A/N: Hello, and happy new year! I hope 2013 treats everyone kindly. For those who haven't seen, I posted a Christmas outtake for Wisp. You can find it on my profile. :)
All standard disclaimers apply.
Wisp
As it turned out, Edward didn't get a chance to introduce Wisp to her new DVD player and the movies Alice had given her. She was out before they even got upstairs, falling asleep heavily in his arms. She was so sensitive to her medication, poor thing. He smiled as he settled her on her air mattress. Though in reality she'd only had a few mouthfuls of liquid, he felt hopeful that she was on her way to feeling better. Before her trip to the hospital, she couldn't even keep down a sip of water for more than a few minutes. The sound of her crying as she dry-heaved and retched was beyond painful. It didn't help at all that they couldn't explain to her why she felt so bad or what was going on. Did she know what a virus was? Surely she'd been sick before—people didn't escape childhood without illness, even in the best circumstances.
Or did they? It was impossible to know what kind of contact with the outside world she'd had prior to this, and contact with infected individuals was how sickness spread.
But still. This couldn't possibly be the first time she'd been sick.
Edward set her down on her air mattress and was about to pull the blankets up over her again when she reached out with one clumsy hand, grabbing at his sleeve as heavy, sleepy eyes opened. "Ed-ward," she mumbled, tugging weakly.
"Shh, little Wisp, it's okay to sleep. I'm here, and I won't leave you." Never. Not as long as she needed him.
"Ed-ward." Her voice was barely a breath, but she kept her hold on his sleeve.
"Okay, sweet girl. Okay." He touched her warm cheek, then slid carefully onto the air mattress beside her. Fuck it. Rosalie kept telling him he wasn't a predator, and if his Wisp wanted him close, he wasn't going to argue about it.
She made a soft, contented noise, settling against his side and letting her head burrow into her pillow. "Edward."
"I'm yours, precious thing." He kissed the top of her head, using his free arm to tuck her blankets closer around her.
She was asleep within seconds.
Edward chuckled softly and kissed her damp hair, then reached up to grab the book on his nightstand. He was farther along in his recuperation than Wisp was, and he didn't feel the need to sleep all day and all night. The air mattress wasn't as comfortable as his bed, but it was definitely good enough. He settled in, Wisp's head pillowed next to him, her forehead softly touching the curve of his shoulder, and opened the book.
She had to be woken in the morning to receive her scheduled medication, neither of which pleased her. She whined softly and buried her head in her pillow, one hand pulling at her blankets. Edward hated to disturb her, but this was important. He tickled her ear. "Little Wisp," he said softly. "Honey, come on. I know you want to sleep, but you need your meds." Carefully he drew her into a sitting position. She slumped like a rag doll, dangling in his hands, her big eyes barely slitted open.
"No, Edward," she mumbled, plaintive, mournful.
"Good girl." Making her wants known with words rather than just body language was a definite step in the right direction. Unfortunately, he couldn't just let her have her way this time. "Thank you for talking to me. I need you to sit up for just a second and then you can go back to sleep."
She didn't protest when he put syringes of liquid medication to her lips—first the anti-nausea meds, then the painkiller. Within the next few days they would try weaning her off both. Because she was the next thing to nonverbal, they'd have to watch her closely for signs that she was in pain. Edward suspected she would be okay. He was more concerned with her stomach, but she couldn't stay medicated forever.
"Water?" He offered her a cup, and she took several small sips before casting a longing glance back at her pillow. "Okay." Edward helped her settle back to the mattress, tucking her blankets around her. "There. Now you can sleep a little more. I want you to get up in a few hours and try to eat, though."
She was asleep before he finished talking.
Since he wasn't tired, Edward took the opportunity to shower. It was a lengthy ordeal, and he shaved afterward, after which he felt much more human. Better than he had the past week or more, anyway. Poor Wisp, he thought. She'd been sicker than him. He couldn't imagine how awful she'd felt during the worst of it. At least she'd been drugged for the very worst, and able to sleep. He made some toast and tea—coffee was not recommended by Carlisle for another few days—and settled on the couch. It felt a little strange to sit here without Wisp in his lap, to be honest.
Before he could decide how to occupy himself while Wisp slept—a book, catching up on news, going through notes for the book he was supposed to be writing—his phone buzzed on the table. Rosalie.
"Hey, stranger."
"Fuck you," she said. "How's my girl?"
"My girl," Edward corrected. "She's sleeping. I heard you've been incarcerated."
"Fucking doctor," Rose grumbled. "I'm fine, I swear to god. I'd fire his ass and get a new OB, but there isn't anyone else taking new patients in this fucking town." She paused, and Edward could hear voices in the background.
"Are you at work?"
"Yeah. I have to delegate." Edward could hear the derision in her voice. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Plenty of working women can't delegate their jobs. I mean, what would he say if I said I'd get fired if I didn't haul around shit like I usually do?"
"Rose, you're the boss. You can't really fire yourself."
"Not the point, asshole." She barked out a quick order to someone, then returned to the phone. "Really, how is she? I was pissed when I couldn't come see her in the hospital."
"She's...it's slow, but I think she's on the right road." Edward glanced at the stairs. They were empty, and Wisp hopefully slept in peace right above him. "Her meds knock her out. It's not as bad as in the hospital, but she's still pretty out of it. Part of me wishes I could change that, and part of me thinks it's maybe better that she sleeps through most of this anyway. Being that sick can't be comfortable."
"Yeah," Rosalie agreed. "I get you. Look, Jasper's supposed to tell me when I can start coming over again. I think it's stupid—she's obviously not contagious anymore—but Emmett's pretty adamant and I think we'll let him have his way this time. It'll be good for him." She paused. "I have someone I'd like to introduce Wisp to, when she's feeling a little better."
"Who?" Edward was instantly on alert. Wisp's "social" circle, if it could be called that, consisted of family, close friends, and those people necessary for her well-being and her case, like Scott and Garrett. Why would Rose suddenly want to just up and introduce her to someone else?
"My friend Emily. She was part of a therapy group I joined after Royce screwed me over. She got married young—really young—and it took her years to get up the courage to leave her abusive dick of a husband. We left the group at about the same time, and she ended up going on to get a degree from the University of Washington. She's back in town after graduating, and I want Wisp to meet her."
Edward considered. He didn't think he really had a choice about anyone Emmett brought over, Emmett being the police and all, but he did have a choice about who Rosalie introduced to Wisp. That being said, he didn't think it was necessarily a bad idea. Wisp could use another female in her life, and the opinion of a woman similar to Rose, one who had suffered through the things men were capable of, should be welcomed. "Okay," he said slowly. "But I want to wait until she's feeling better. She's really not in any condition to be stressed out right now."
"I don't want to stress her," Rosalie snapped. "Jesus, Edward. I'm not that bitch doctor. But you know as well as I do that her progress has been stalled, even pushed backward, for a while now. She needs to have a little push, I think, and Emily might be the person to do it."
Yeah, Edward knew it, though he didn't like it. He wanted to wrap that girl up tight in warm clothes and blankets and pillows—anything that made her happy—and refuse to let the rest of the world bother her. He wanted to let her rest, and have every happy thing he could provide. Companionship. Her pet. Good food, art supplies. All of it. Everything. He smiled slightly as he wondered whether Carlisle and Esme might consider having a pool put in. He couldn't say for sure, of course, but he bet Wisp would take to swimming like...well, like a fish to water.
"I get it," he said. "Don't push her, Rose."
"You men." He could hear her bitchface over the phone. "Thinking you know what's best. We're a lot tougher than you seem to think, you know."
Edward let Rosalie harp; it was just leftover irritation with her own situation, after all, and not necessarily Wisp's. She might really think he was shielding the girl too much—in fact, she probably did. But that wasn't her call to make. Wisp was his responsibility. His, and Jasper's, and Scott's. And her therapist, whenever they got around to getting her one. It was on his to-do list, he swore. But she'd had a huge backslide in progress and then they'd both been sick... After she was better, he promised himself. After she was better, he'd start making calls.
Speaking of calls. Edward said goodbye to Rose, then dialed her husband.
"Ed, dude, how you doing? No more projectile vomiting?"
Edward grimaced. He didn't really want to remember the last week or so, frankly. "Isabella," he said instead. "She was all fucked up with her fever and then with meds, but I'm ninety percent sure her name is Isabella. "
"Yeah, Esme told me. Unfortunately, it hasn't given us any leads."
Edward blinked. "A name isn't giving you leads?"
"There are no missing Isabellas in the US or Canada that fit her description. There's a thirty-five-year-old named Isabella Carter missing from Ottawa, Canada, but that's it, man. And we're checking more internationally, but it's gonna take some time."
"A middle name?" Edward sort of knew he was grasping at straws, but he didn't care.
"Checked that possibility, too. No go."
And Isabella wouldn't be a nickname—it was too long and formal. Nor was it a last name. Was it true, then, what James had said? Did she really have no one looking for her? Edward tugged hard at his hair. It just wasn't possible. How could a girl go missing and nobody notice? How could anyone look at her and not want her back?
"So we're back where we started." His voice was flat. "And we started with nothing."
"Sorry, man. This is how police work happens, sometimes. We went through all the Gerandys in the state, with no red flags. No one's looking for a girl around her age that matches her description. The chief wants to set up a meeting with you and her social worker to talk about the next step."
"What's the next step?"
"Going to the media." Emmett groaned; Edward knew that sound. He'd just sat down. "I know you don't wanna, and we didn't, either. I don't think any of us want to make a media sideshow of her. But...fuck, man. Maybe someone out there knows something. Maybe we can get 'em to come forward."
Edward didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. "Emmett, you know she won't be able to handle that." Once the media got hold of this story, the story of a feral girl who thought she was an animal, he and Wisp would have no peace. How the hell was she supposed to make any progress or, hell, even just feel comfortable? They'd never be able to take her anywhere. This cabin was her sanctuary, but he didn't want it to turn into her jail, too.
"Easy, Ed. Chill. You know no one wants that. We'll start small—release a photo and ask for help identifying her. That's it. No details. It'll be okay."
Edward wasn't so sure, but what could he do? This was their call, not his. It's possible Scott could talk them out of it, but he doubted the social worker would. Finding where she came from was too important. "For the record," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "I don't like it." Fuck, he could feel the start of a tension headache.
"Yeah, we got that. It's just...what else are we supposed to do? We need answers, and we got nothing."
Edward knew that, he did. But that didn't mean he had to like the idea of letting the public invade Wisp's safe little bubble.
An hour and a half later, a sleepy Wisp backed her way down the stairs, her eyes barely slitted open. Edward smiled as he watched her make her way to the bathroom, and he gave her a few minutes of privacy before he joined her.
When he peered around the open doorway, Edward had to stifle a bark of laughter. It really wasn't funny...except it was. She'd used the toilet—that much he could hear—then promptly fallen asleep again on the soft bathmat in front of the tub. Edward exhaled a slow breath as he shook his head. They really needed to wean her off those meds. This was getting ridiculous.
He picked her up in his arms and took her back upstairs, settling her on her air mattress once again. The blankets were still warm with her body heat, and she burrowed into the softness. Her hair was tangled and she needed to wash, but all that could wait. He smoothed her hair back, out of her face, and was rewarded with a pleased little hum before she sank deeper into sleep.
Rousing her again wouldn't be fun, but she needed to try to eat. Edward made a packet of plain oatmeal and some lukewarm tea, and brought both to her upstairs. Pet demanded to sniff what was in the bowl, but once she discovered what it was, she wandered away again.
"Hey, pretty girl." Edward tickled her ear again. "I know sleep is one of your favorite things, but it's important to be awake, too."
She pushed at his hand, and he chuckled as he caught her fingers and gave them a squeeze.
"Come on, now. Sit up for me."
Groggy and disoriented, she did. Edward pulled over the ugly backrest thing Alice gave her, and she did seem better able to hold herself up with the cushion at her back. She rubbed her eyes, then looked dubiously at the bowl Edward offered. "Ow," she said, wrapping an arm around her stomach.
"What does that mean, honey? Does it hurt now, or do you just remember that it hurt before?"
But she didn't answer the question, as he knew she wouldn't. She did accept the tea, taking tiny sips of the warm liquid.
"Good girl." Edward stroked her cheek. "I want you to try one bite for me, though. Just one, okay?" He raised the spoon with a little oatmeal on it, and offered it to her.
"Ow, Edward." Her dark eyes were full of sleep, and they eyed the spoon with misgiving.
"I know, little Wisp. I know. Just...please? One bite. I won't make you eat any more than that."
She whimpered, and the sound almost undid him. He wasn't good at saying no to her—not when she looked at him with those soft, dark eyes. Rousing her from sleep was hard enough. But this was important. She needed to eat, or she'd end up in the hospital again. She needed to know that it was okay to eat—that she wouldn't always vomit everything back up.
"Come on." He tried to steel himself against the pleading look on her delicate face, and he brought the spoon to her mouth again, holding it there. "One bite, and then I'll stop bugging you."
With a reluctance borne of bad experience, she gave in. He knew she would; she didn't have it in her to argue, though she was slowly learning to voice her preferences. She deferred to him, because she didn't know how not to.
"Thank you," he said, and true to his word, he didn't make her eat any more. He watched her swallow the small bite, then sip more of her tea. She looked resigned, as if she fully expected to throw up soon.
"I know you're afraid of being sick again." Edward pushed the bowl aside and reached instead for the DVD player. She could probably use a good distraction, and he didn't want her going right to sleep. "Look—Alice brought this for you, but I think you were too confused to really notice." He opened the device, plugged it in, and selected Peter Pan out of the handful of Disney DVDs Alice had supplied. "Look, little Wisp. I think you'll really like this."
She did.
Her bleary eyes grew huge, and she sat perfectly still as Edward placed the DVD player in her lap. He took the mug of tea out of her hands, just in case, and adjusted the volume so it hopefully wouldn't irritate her sensitive ears.
From the opening credits to the ending scene, she was...entranced. Edward couldn't think of a better word. Her eyes never left the little screen in her lap; he doubted she moved.
She did, however, make noise.
"Peter!" she squealed when he first appeared. Yeah, she knew him. Edward had wondered, since the Disney version obviously didn't look exactly like the illustrations in her book. But she knew. He'd planned to grab a book while she watched her movie, but Edward found that he couldn't look away. Her responses were far too moving. "Bad!" she gasped at the figure of Captain Hook, and when a disguised bomb blew up the Lost Boys' hideout, she hid her head in her hands and whimpered.
It was...Edward couldn't remember the first time he'd watched television. It was just part of his childhood, something that was always around. Saturday morning cartoons and bowls of Fruit Loops or Apple Jacks, often with Emmett if he'd slept over the night before. The news droning in the background, weekday evenings, while he worked on his homework. Movies both at home and in the theater. Disney and Don Bluth, then more adult movies as he grew.
Wisp had had none of that.
He couldn't say for sure, of course. But the way she stared at the little screen, hardly daring to breathe, was a big clue. As the screen returned to the main menu, she reached out trembling hands and slowly picked up the DVD player. She peered at the bottom and back, then tugged at the power cord until it detached.
"No!" She held the device in one hand and the cord in the other, and she looked up at Edward with something he hoped wasn't fear.
"Hey, it's okay. It's not broken." He put the power cord back in, then popped it out again to show her. "See? That's how it works."
She spent a good minute plugging in and unplugging the power cord, then turned the screen toward Edward. It was still sitting on the menu. "Peter?"
"Yeah, that was Peter. Did you like it?"
"Peter," she said again, extending the player further toward him.
"You...want to watch it again?" Edward hoped he understood what she was trying to tell him. "You have others; Alice gave you more than one movie. Do you want to watch a different one?" He showed her the cases, but she wasn't interested.
"Peter!"
"Okay, okay." He chuckled. "Peter it is." He hit play again.
About fifteen minutes into the movie, the front door opened. Edward headed downstairs and met Esme in the doorway.
"How is everyone?" She gave him a hug. "You look a lot better."
He chuckled. "I bathed."
"And Wisp?"
Edward beckoned her upstairs.
Wisp was right where he'd left her, staring at the screen of her DVD player, and she didn't even glance up as he and Esme entered the room.
"Oh..." Esme smiled. "That's sweet. It's a good, quiet activity while she's sick, too."
Edward agreed. It was entertaining enough to hold her attention so she didn't fall asleep, but still a quiet, restful activity. He'd get her all the DVDs she wanted, if it meant she would sit still and relax while she was sick.
"I heard from Emmett today."
"Oh?"
"He said her name, if it is her name, didn't bring up any new leads. He wants to put her photo—"
"Shh."
Edward blinked. It wasn't Esme who shushed him, but Wisp. She looked up at them with her solemn little face. "Peter," she said, pointing to the screen on her lap.
"Okay, lovey," Esme said, and he could tell she was holding back laughter. "We'll go downstairs to talk, and you can watch Peter."
Downstairs again, Edward let out a chuckle. "Every time I think I have her figured out, she surprises me."
"She surprises us all." His aunt went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. "How has she been today?"
"Sleepy." Edward leaned back against the kitchen counter. "I know the meds are important, but they really mess her up. I'll be glad when she's not so out of it all the time."
"Is she giving you trouble?"
Edward shook his head. What trouble could she possibly be? Though she was learning to express herself, she still deferred to others every time there was the slightest confrontation. Short of trying to blow him again—an experience he prayed never to have to relive—what could she do? "I feel bad making her wake up, even though I know she can't just sleep all day. I think the movies were a really good idea."
"Bless Alice and her generosity." Esme poked through the refrigerator. "I know it's not exciting, but what about some chicken and rice tonight? Has she eaten anything for you?"
"A bite of oatmeal this morning, and even that was a challenge." Edward rubbed his face. Maybe Esme would be willing to try feeding Wisp tonight. He definitely wasn't looking forward to doing it again. "She's afraid, I think. You know, that she'll just be sick if she eats."
"Poor baby. Well, if she kept a bite down, that's a start. Fluids?"
"She's still taking tiny sips, but she's drinking. I'm not too worried."
"Mm. I got some 7-Up, even though the meds seem to be settling her stomach fairly well. Maybe she'll like it."
As Esme started the rice, Edward told her about his conversations with both Rose and Emmett. "I don't know," he said, opening a cold can of 7-Up and pouring about half of it in a plastic cup. "I don't like the idea of her picture out there in the media. I just..." He shook his head. "James said something during his interview with the prosecutor—you know, when they denied him a plea bargain? I can't get it out of my head."
"What did he say?"
Edward stared out the window at the rapidly-darkening woods. He could still hear perfectly how James had sounded, arguing with the man who would decide his fate. "He said that maybe someone was looking for her, but if so, it wasn't her family." It was hard to explain exactly what about that statement made the hairs on the back of his neck stiffen. When he said it to Esme, it didn't sound the way it sounded in his head. "I don't know, just...the way he said it. We know he has at least one accomplice out there. He hasn't been in touch with anyone while he's in prison, not even his family. But if we put her picture out there...what if someone sees it who shouldn't? What if someone finds her, and it turns out she was better off lost?"
Esme turned from the stove and studied him as he flicked on the light. "You're in a difficult situation." Her voice was gentle. "I don't think there are necessarily any right or wrong answers. It's a matter of priorities. Emmett's priority is to solve the case he's been given—to find whoever did this to her, and bring them to justice. I know he's also concerned that she might not be the only victim. He has to worry about the potential of other girls still trapped wherever our Wisp came from, and their needs. Their safety. You—I know you want those answers for her, too, but it's not your first priority. You're concerned about this one girl, her day to day life and her future. You're worried about things that are less important to Emmett as a police officer, though I know that as your friend he's worried, too. You want her to be happy, and safe. You want her life to be as free of stress as possible, and bringing in the media is not the way to go if you want to reduce stress." She smiled softly at her son—a little sad, a little wistful. "I think, if Scott agrees with the police, you won't have much choice. So the question will be how to handle this, going forward. How to keep her as sheltered as possible from the worst parts of humanity."
Yeah, that's pretty much what Edward thought. He didn't like it, but he was going to have to live with it. Scott would almost certainly agree with the police chief's recommendation, and his job going forward would be to do his best to keep her safe and happy while the media sharks circled. It was a juicy story; they wouldn't be able to resist.
"Did they say whether they think offering a reward for information would be helpful?" Esme asked as she pulled chicken breasts from the refrigerator. "Carlisle and I would be happy to."
"He didn't say. I...really don't know. I mean, on the one hand, you'll have crooks trying everything to get the reward. On the other hand, it might tease out someone who knows something but otherwise wouldn't give a shit about coming forward."
"Well, I'll mention it the next time I see one of them." Esme nodded to the cup on the counter. "Take that on up to her. She should be drinking as much as possible."
Edward went, but his mind was still weighted down with unpleasant thoughts. Was it so wrong, he wondered, to want to keep her safe? To worry about each new experience, every stranger they let into her life? He trusted his aunt and uncle, Emmett and Rosalie, Alice and Jasper, with his life—and, perhaps more importantly, with Wisp's. But anyone else... He shook his head a little, trying to clear it as he entered the bedroom. Wisp's pale little face glowed pale blue in the reflected light from the DVD player. He flipped on his reading light to give her a little more illumination without the harshness of the overhead, then caught her hand and placed the cup in it.
"Try that," he told her. "You need to keep drinking."
She obeyed, as she always did: as she had been trained to do. Whether it had been beaten into her, brainwashed, or both, she was a pliant, malleable little thing. She did not fight. She did not try to protect herself. He'd only ever seen her protest—really protest—when she thought Pet was in danger. She did for her cat what she would not do for herself.
As her lips touched the bubbly liquid, Wisp jerked back. She stared into the cup for a long moment, then stuck her finger in and licked. Edward chuckled and left her to it, heading back downstairs to see if Esme needed any help. He was a little uncomfortable about how much she was taking care of him. He was a grown man, after all. But he knew it was for Wisp's benefit more than his, and he couldn't refuse either of them when it was clear Wisp had latched onto Esme, and Esme to Wisp. She was, in some ways, the daughter his aunt had never had. And no one deserved a mother's love more than Wisp did.
When he asked, though, Esme said that dinner was nearly done. She poured herself more hot water for tea, then added that he could feed Pet if he really wanted to help.
So Edward set about finding one of Pet's dishes and fishing a cat food can out of the cupboard. He spooned the smelly stuff into the dish and set it on the floor, a little surprised that he'd managed to pop the top of the can without her noticing. She always came running when she heard that sound.
"Pet," he called. He doubted the cat knew its name, but he wasn't going to go around making kissy noises and calling, "Kitty, kitty." He did have some dignity left.
But the cat didn't come.
He looked everywhere—under the beds, in the closets, behind the couch. Cupboards. The bathtub. The top of the tall bookshelf. He looked everywhere he could think of, then looked again.
No cat.
"You don't think she could have run out when you came in, do you?" he asked finally, pausing in the doorway to the kitchen. He was filled with a nervous sort of energy, chemicals seeping into his system as the magnitude of the potential problem sank in.
Esme paled. "I...don't know. I didn't see her, but I was carrying bags, and..." She put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, no. Edward."
Oh no was right, Edward thought. The cat was missing. How the hell was he supposed to explain that to Wisp?
A/N: Um...