TRIGGER WARNING! - Please PM me for details if necessary.

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Chapter 31 – Grateful

The following week couldn't come fast enough. By the time Wednesday rolled around, I worried she was putting off our reunion, but then finally on Thursday I got the text. It was simple and straight forward. Nothing but the date, time, and an address, and I couldn't have been more excited. We weren't meeting until Saturday, but that was okay. It was coming and I was thrilled.

I had been eagerly anticipating that meeting since I knew it was in the works, however as I drove to the facility, I was surprisingly nervous.

What would it be like to see Bella in that setting?

How would I handle the information she planned on giving me?

Would I have the strength she needed me to have while she divulged her most painful memories?

Those, and many more questions, ran through my mind; none of which I had any answers for, and wouldn't have them until I got there to experience it.

The facility was about twenty minutes away, and every minute that I drove felt like an hour. By the time I got there, my brain was tired with worry, so I ended up sitting in my car in the parking lot for a good five minutes, just trying to clear my mind and get ahold of my emotions.

I took a deep breath. "Okay," I told myself before finally getting out and heading inside.

I was so anxious that I didn't really have the ability to take in the grounds, but as far as I could tell, it all looked clean and welcoming; almost like a hotel, in a way. There was a lobby, and a receptionist desk, and that's where I went to for further instructions.

"My name is Edward Cullen. I'm here to see Bella Swan," I told the woman.

She typed in her computer and was able to find my name right away.

"Ah yes, your name is on the verified list of visitors for Miss Swan, but I will need to see an ID."

After showing her my license, I was directed down a hall and through some double doors, which opened to a large terrace. There was a padded porch swing, and a babbling water fountain that gave off the most peaceful white noise that I had heard in a long time. The flowers that surrounded the area were all in bloom, which completed the serenity of the location and definitely gave me a sense of calm. Bella was there. Everything was going to be okay.

I waited for her for about ten minutes, and when she finally came out, she wasn't alone.

"Edward," she said, her voice was steady, but somehow nervous at the same time.

I turned to look at her and stood as the two women approached.

"Hi," she said with a grin. She stood in front of me awkwardly, and then reached in to give me a hug.

I wrapped my arms around her and breathed her in as deeply as possible. "I've missed you," I said, only loud enough for her to hear.

She pulled back and kept her unsure smile.

"Um Edward, this is Doctor Charlotte Peters," she introduced the woman.

I raised my brows in utter shock. "Professor Peters?"

The woman held her hand out towards me. "Mr. Cullen, I'm so happy to finally meet you. I've missed our email exchanges."

"Uh… yeah. What are you doing here?" I asked, not exactly sure what to think about her presence with Bella.

"She's been an affiliate of here for a few years now," Bella explained. "I was pretty upset when I first ran into her, but we've talked and worked through some things, and now we are writing a book together."

"You're doing what now?" I asked shocked. My communication with that woman had been the catalyst of Rosalie blowing up at me, thus Bella breaking up with me, and her ultimately attempting to take her own life. I didn't blame her, but I was sure as hell never expecting Bella to work with her in any way either.

"We are writing a book on DID," Bella repeated. "I know I've always shied away from the idea of capitalizing on my disorder, but if telling my story could help someone who is struggling out there feel less alone or be inspired in some way, I want to do it. I just… I've always looked at my condition as something to be ashamed of, but the more I talk about it, and the more I'm working on it, I've started to see it for what it really is – a means of survival. I don't think I could have made it through my life even half as well as I have without the protection my alters have given me and are still giving me. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you about the book, and for you to finally meet Doctor Peters."

"Well, if you're happy, I'm happy," I told her supportively.

She nodded. "Books are sort of my thing, so I guess writing a book myself is the next step. And what better topic to start out on than one I've been dealing with firsthand for most of my life?"

"I'm glad to meet you in person, Edward. I'm sure we will talk more soon," Dr. Peters said, before reaching for my hand to shake again, and then excusing herself to leave.

"Speaking of books," I said, breaking the awkward silence we found ourselves in the moment we were alone. "Who's been handling the bookstore since you've been in here? I mean, I know Kate still works there part-time, but she never mentioned who was running it otherwise."

"My dad hired three other employees for me, and the four of them work on rotation. It's been so hard for me to relinquish that kind of control, but I didn't really have any other choice. We also cut down on the hours we're open for, which has worked out well."

"Wow, I'm really proud of you for that. Well, I'm proud of you for everything you've been doing actually."

"I appreciate you saying that. It means a lot."

She wandered over to the swing and sat down, patting the cushion next to her so I would sit too. "So…" she said uncomfortably. "I guess there is no more putting it off. I need to tell you how I got like this."

"If you're not ready…"

"I am," she insisted. "As ready as I'll ever be; it's just not easy. I mean, I know you're still going to love me… but there is just this illogical dread that comes along with it. Like, as if you won't be able to help thinking about me as damaged goods or something. I mean, damaged more than just mentally, but physically too."

"I could never think of you that way," I tried assuring her.

"I know. It's illogical and silly, but I can't help feeling it anyway, so I guess I'm just going to get to it before I chicken out. Like ripping a bandaid off, right? Better to just get it out there?"

"Whatever you think is best," I said supportively.

She nodded. "This is best. Best that you know so I feel like you understand, and we can move forward without any secrets or gory skeletons hanging in my closet. Okay…"

She took a deep breath.

"I don't know everything, and I've come to realize that not remembering certain things is a gift instead of a curse. If I remembered all the little details, like what it felt like, or what they all looked like, I would probably curl into a ball and never function again. I honestly don't know how Rosalie handled it all with those memories, and she remembered everything, so…"

She let her words trail off as she considered what exactly she wanted to say.

"I now can remember just enough to know what happened to me, and I hope that's all I ever remember because that's more than enough," she reiterated.

One more deep breath.

"I guess I should start with a little background. My mom and dad were high school sweethearts. They both came from broken homes; both dabbled in drugs to deal with it."

It was probably clear from my expression that I was shocked Officer Swan was ever into drugs.

"Yeah," she answered my unspoken thoughts. "He said it was a dark time. Anyway, when my mom became pregnant with me, my dad decided to clean up his life, and my mom… well, she tried for a while. I was born addicted to heroin, and after child protective services took me away for a while, my dad was later proven fit, but my mom never was. He was given full custody, and he took care of me with his grandmother's help. Through the years, my mom would show up every so often, and just disrupt everything. I didn't understand any of the issues she created back then, because she was my mom, and I loved her and wanted to spend time with her."

She paused, so I took her hands in mine just to remind her that I was there, and my love was unconditional. Thankfully, she didn't pull away. Instead, she wove her fingers into mine and held on as if I was her life support.

"And then one day, when I was about eight years old, she showed up at my school," she continued. "We had never done anything particularly fun when she was around, but I was excited, and I went with her. I remember driving in her busted up old truck for days. We slept in it, and anytime I said I was hungry she would stop at a gas station and get me donuts or chips. After a about a week, I asked to go home, but she told me my dad didn't want me anymore… I believed her."

"It wasn't true," I stated the obvious.

"Of course not, but when I was eight, I wanted so bad to believe in my mother. Why would she lie to me? Now I know the answer for that… she planned on using me."

"Using you for what?"

"To make money for her drugs. Child… child predators pay a lot more," she said quietly, but with so much strength that I was both heartbroken and disgusted, as well as extremely astonished by her strength.

She looked down at her hands in her lap, but then she raised her eyes and showed me the full intensity of her preserving spirit.

"She sold me… every night. Sometimes multiple times a night. She sold me to perverted pedophiles who paid by the hour. She let them do whatever they wanted to me. She got more money in an evening by using me than she could have possibly made in a month of prostituting herself. I funded her drugs, but also paid for our food and hotels and gas for the truck. It was our only means of monetary income. Somewhere along the way, I reverted into my mind and created Rosalie to bare the burden of all of that. It was the only way I was able to survive it. Whenever my mother would lock me in a cockroach ridden motel room with one of those men, Rosalie would… she would endure it for me. Even now, when I remember enough to know what happened, she is still protecting me from the feelings and the images… and I know she will always keep those buried, and I appreciate that so much…"

She had to stop to wipe the tears from her face, but she remained strong, whereas I felt like I was going to be consumed by my grief and rage. Who could do that to a child? It was sickening, and I wanted nothing more than to hunt down her mother and every last disgusting monster that hurt her. It was the epitome of anguish, and yet, Bella refused to break again.

"You see, I've been fighting Rosalie for so long, and blaming her for all my problems, when in reality, she is the only reason I was able to have any form of a life at all. She was my savior all along."

"She loved you," I said, no louder than a whisper. "You were her purpose."

"I know," she replied, just as quietly. She sighed, and then continued her unbearably painful story. "My mother was busted by an undercover officer when I was about thirteen. That's when I was finally sent home to my dad. Being back with him was a rough transition. He didn't know what was wrong with me because I never spoke about it. I hardly spoke at all at the time, but even if I could talk about it, I didn't even really know most of it because Rosalie had protected me so fiercely."

"I'm sure that was hard on Charlie too," I murmured.

"It was. I can only imagine how helpless he felt back then. His long-lost daughter came back completely broken. I was quiet, withdrawn, and untrusting. My mother had told me so many lies about my dad that I was honestly scared of him. Then Rosalie would come out and she was so combative and violent. He sent me to doctor after doctor, hoping to figure out what was wrong and how it could be fixed. It wasn't until my mom made a plea bargain that involved her giving up the list of her pedophile clients in exchange for a lesser sentence, that my dad even realized how badly I was damaged. It was still a few years later, after I was abused again by one of my many doctors, and split into a few more personalities, that a different psychiatrist was finally able to diagnose me with DID. Having that diagnosis was a blessing and a curse. At least we knew what we were dealing with, but it also put a stigma on me, and my dad and I agreed to not tell strangers about it."

"And eventually you stopped therapy," I remembered.

"We trusted the doctor that molested me. He was the only one that seemed to get through to me at all. He started out so nurturing and warm, but he was the exact opposite. He turned out to be the very evil that he was pretending to help me through. Rosalie blamed my dad, of course. He promised he would never let anyone hurt me again, but he wasn't able to protect me. And because of that situation, I created Alice and Tanya. The psychiatrist that diagnosed me with DID just wanted to drug me into a stupor. I would have such bad panic attacks, and I was terrified of all doctors moving forward. Then one day my dad had enough, and swore he'd never make me go to another one again."

"I don't blame him. Do you remember the name of the doctor who hurt you?" I asked, feeling like my blood was literally boiling. I hoped to god that the doctor was locked up so he couldn't hurt anyone else, but selfishly I would have loved if he were free someplace so I could kill him with my bare hands – slowly. Doctors are always taught to first do no harm; a man like that was no doctor, and neither was I. I truly felt like I could murder the man if given the chance, but Bella refused.

"It was a long time ago now, and as far as I know, he is still in prison for it," she told me softly, clearly trying to calm me down. Her softness was soothing and made me realize that she was the one comforting me instead of the other way around. I needed to get ahold of myself for her sake.

"Edward, I'm not telling you any of this so that you can get angry and run off to try avenge me. I don't need a hero; I just need you to love me."

I took a calming breath and nodded. Somehow I even smiled at her. "You don't need a hero because you already have one. You are your own hero, Bella. The fact that you can even sit here and tell me any of this is the most incredible thing I have ever witnessed. I'm in utter and complete awe of you. Truly, I am."

"It's taken me a long time to get here. But even though I don't need you to save me from anything, your love is the catalyst that pushed me to want to get better. I wanted to be with you so bad that I was willing to attempt to trust doctors again. And the fact that you're not running for the hills proves how amazing you are."

"Why would I run from this?"

She shrugged. "Why wouldn't you? It's a lot of really fucked up shit. You don't have to deal with any of it, but you just keep coming back, and you're still waiting. That means so much to me. I honestly never thought anyone could really love me."

"Bella," I told her as I gently stroked her face. "I don't know how anyone could not love you. What happened to you was… beyond words. I wish I could remove all the memories and pain from you; I'd take it all on myself if I could. I want so badly to go out and find every last person who has ever hurt you and make them suffer a fate worse than death… But I know the best thing we can do now is try to move forward."

"That's all I want," she said sincerely. "They stole my childhood, but I'm done with letting them destroy my adult life too. I want to live. Like really live. I don't want to be afraid to have a family or to be worried it's all going to be taken from me. I've always had a hard time trusting people, but I trust you… but I'm also scared."

"It's okay to be scared. After everything you've been through…"

"But that's just it," she cut me off. "I'm not scared of being with you, I'm just scared of you being afraid to be with me."

"I don't understand what you mean," I said honestly. "Why would I be afraid to be with you?"

"Because of everything that was done to me. Because of how my body was used by other men."

"Oh baby, that would never make me love you any less."

"I didn't say I was worried about you loving me less. I said I was worried that you would be afraid… Afraid to touch me," she explained, getting emotional again. "I don't want you to hesitate, or ever worry that something you're doing to me intimately might have a negative affect on me. I just need you to know that there is nothing you can do to me that would scare me or give me any kind of traumatic flashback to my abuse. I know of a patient in this facility that is terrified to be touched at all sexually because of what she endured, and I don't want you to think that's how I am."

"You don't have any issues with sex after remembering all of this?" I asked carefully, trying to get a better understanding of what she was trying to say.

"No. At least not with you. I really don't remember any of the details. I don't remember how any if it felt or anything I saw or was done to me. Nothing specific whatsoever. And I'm so grateful for that, because I don't want to be afraid to have sex. I want to make love to you in every way… I even want you to fuck me in a bathroom stall again at some point," she said surprisingly light, given the heaviness of the topic.

"That was pretty amazing," I agreed, matching her tone.

"It was incredible," she reiterated. "Especially after going so long without it. But that's the thing, it was incredible because I trust you so much and I can let my guard down with you and know I'm safe. Alice… something I learned recently about Alice is that she actually hated casual sex."

I laughed once humorously. "What?"

"People deal with pain in all different ways. Alice was the one who remembered the doctor molesting us. That was the reason she was created. She endured it. It only happened once, but that was enough to screw her up. Sex with strangers was like a self-punishment to her. She acted wild and crazy because it numbed it. The more she did it, the more she was able to convince herself that it didn't matter. That our body was unimportant and what happened was no big deal. It was how she coped… until she met you. Falling in love with you changed her entire outlook. She actually enjoyed sex for the first time, and she was eager to try anything and everything with you. She didn't always handle her emotions very well, but at the core of all her little tantrums and seemingly insatiable need for intimacy, was just her fear of losing you."

"I had no idea about that," I said stunned and full of regret for every twinge of irritation I ever had towards Alice's behavior. "I wish I had known when she was here."

"She is here," Bella assured me. "They all are. I don't hear or see them, but I feel them, and we are going through this life as a cohesive unit for now on. It's the closest thing to a cure that I'm ever going to get, and honestly, I wouldn't want it any other way. I don't want them to disappear entirely anymore. I just want a chance to live, and that's what we are going to do… together."

"There's nothing more I could hope for you… for us," I told her.

"Things aren't going to be easy," she warned me. "Just because me and my alters are working together now, that doesn't mean I won't have issues."

"I know, and I will be there to help you through it all in any way I can."

"I know you will be, but what's even more important to me is that I finally have enough faith in myself that I can do the same for you in return. Everyone has lows. Life is hard, and all I want is for you to feel like you can come to me with your problems too. I want balance. I know it will still take time, but someday… we will get there."

"We will," I agreed wholeheartedly.

She looked like the weight of the world just came off her shoulders, and she was clearly exhausted because of it. She let her head fall into my chest, and I could do nothing but hold her. It didn't matter where we were or what we were doing – she was in my arms, and we were right where we both belonged.

We must have sat together on that swing for hours. We were both silent for a long time, just enjoying each other's presence and letting everything sink in. I was angry and disgusted and devastated by it all, but mostly I was just grateful. Grateful for the police who finally got her away from her monster of a mother. Grateful for Charlie for doing everything he could to make his daughter better. And thankful to DID itself for keeping Bella safe. Bella's alters had saved her so many times, but at the end of it all, each and every one of them were just pieces of her. Bella was her own savior, and I was so incredibly grateful that she was.

We still had a long road ahead of us. Many more trials and tribulations. We would have our ups and downs, and we would share many more tears – both in happiness and despair. Most of all, we would live our lives together, because together we could get through anything….