AN: Thanks to Fran for beta'ing. Thanks to Gail and Mykaela for pre-reading.
Boy in the Backyard
Chapter 26
Peter Cullen stared at the ground—the earth, the grass, so purely untouched in the meadow around him. He drew his eyes towards the edge where soft wildflowers straightened, hoping to absorb what was left of Wednesday morning's sunshine. The voices of his family were mumbled, an indistinct static that his ears were barely receiving. He bit his lip, fighting the voices back.
If he turned his head, it would be real.
The earth and the grass wouldn't be so purely untouched anymore. They'd be a sandy brown, crunching wanly under his black dress shoes.
If he turned his head, he'd have to see their aching. Charlotte's eyes would flicker like a switch until they finally settled on a dull, pain-filled brown. Bella's sad eyes would turn to anger if she met his ashamed ones—because it was his fault. Anger for what was taken from them, and anger for what Peter brought into their lives.
He should turn around, though.
He deserved it.
Being strong was the least he could do, right? After all, it was him who taught him what that meant. Blood softly trickled into his mouth the harder he bit; he couldn't stop the quivering of his bottom lip. The baseball-sized lump in his throat left him dry, his lungs begging for air.
"I'm…sorry." He muttered quietly to himself, turning. The wildflowers became a haze of watercolors as the tears erupted from his eyes. They were salty and burning as they cascaded down his raw, red cheeks, "I'm sorry, Uncle E."
He felt a hand on his shoulder, a pale, large hand. He took a breath as he looked up to meet the owner's gaze.
Garrett's eyes were mournful; blue; glistening at his brother's casket.
"It's time to say goodbye, Peter."
"No! No! I can't! I can't!" Peter cried, taking a deep breath. His eyes ripped open, squinting after seeing the bright lights of the hospital waiting room. He gasped for breath and stared at the floor. He reached up instinctively to touch his hair only to find it covered with sweat.
"Peter? What is it?" Renee asked, getting up from her spot on the stiff, blue couch.
"Wh…what time is it? Where's Bella?" Peter asked, panic crossing his face as he looked around the nearly empty room.
"It's about 11:00 pm, Pete. You've been sleeping for a while. I didn't want to wake you. Bella is back with Charlotte; they're keeping her overnight for observation."
"She's gonna be okay?"
"Yep, she's going to be perfectly okay, kiddo. They just want to make sure nothing happens again. Your Uncle really saved the day with that one." Renee smiled softly at him.
"And what about him? What about my Uncle E?" Peter asked desperately.
"He's still in surgery, Peter. The doctors are working on him. Bella came back out here about an hour ago to give me an update. They're doing the best they can…it's just going to take a while. When you want, we can go back to where Bella and Charlotte are." Renee said gently, "would you like that?"
Peter nodded lightly. He stretched his arms out over his head, twisting his back to crack it. The stiff hospital chair wasn't the ideal place for a nap.
"We might be able to get you a cot if you wanna sleep some more when we get back there." Renee offered as she gathered her bag.
A shiver scraped down Peter's spine. He wouldn't be going back to sleep until he saw his uncle.
"No." He responded darkly, looking at the floor with a frown. He could feel his lip start to quiver again as his mind flashed back to the nightmare he'd woken from, "No more sleeping."
Renee huddled in the corner of the hospital room; her breathing was erratic as she watched her granddaughter on the bed. Peter sat closely next to her under the crook of her arm. The young boy's eyes were wide with worry. His focus splintered between staring at the girl on the bed and the cracked metal door.
He wished he could see his uncle.
"Oh, God. Charlotte! What happened?" Bella shrieked as she burst into the room. She shut the door behind her before hurrying over to the small girl on the bed. She ran her hand through the little girl's hair, tears prickling at her eyes.
"I'm okay, Mommy," Charlotte said, looking up at her mother.
Bella gasped lightly, taking the girl gently into her arms, peppering kisses across every inch of skin she could see, "Oh, baby!"
"Bella…she had an allergic reaction. She…ate a piece of candy with peanuts in it."
"What? How did that happen? Where's Ed—" Bella snapped, looking around the room, noticing someone was missing.
"Honey, there was a break-in at the house when I was watching Charlotte after school. Edward and Peter weren't back yet from his therapy appointment."
"A break-in? What are you talking about, Mom? Where's Edward?"
"It was her," Peter said, staring at the door. He couldn't bear to look Bella in the eye.
Bella's figure staggered noticeably as soon as the words left Peter's mouth.
"Your mother? Kate?"
Peter nodded softly.
"Bella, listen to me … Kate gave Charlotte some candy…to try to keep her quiet until Edward and Peter got home. She, uh, didn't know you had a child. She had already locked me in the closet upstairs."
Renee tried to explain calmly.
"Wh…" Bella started.
"Mommy, it's okay. Edward and Peter got there…Edward saved me…he used my special box that Peter got from its special place." Charlotte said before flashing her eyes to Peter. She blinked hard before letting the tears start to fall down her face.
"Charlotte! What's…"
"Bella, that woman had a gun. She was…deranged. A complete psychopath. She showed up with the expectation of taking Peter…" Renee explained.
Kate Denali had been inside her house? With her child? With her children? With her mother? With Edward? Something clicked inside of her head—where was he?
"Mom, where's Edward?" Bella asked, eyes widening with the fear that set deep in her bones.
"Bella, sweetie…please take a breath. Edward would not let her take Peter, so Kate fired the gun, and it hit him. She…claims it was an accident. He tried to get it away from her…but." She trailed off lightly. "He's in surgery," Renee said calmly, biting her lip as she stared at her daughter.
He was in…surgery. He got shot. Edward got shot. In her kitchen? The words alone made her stomach whirl. She couldn't grasp the thought. How…
"He…was shot? How…wh…" Bella stuttered, eyes widening. Panic began to fill her body, a lump rising in her throat. Her thoughts were scattered. Edward…had gotten shot? And Charlotte was nearby when all of this occurred? And what about Peter…oh, God, Peter. Things were fuzzy as she whipped her head around to take in her daughter's body, eyes scanning along every surface for an injury.
"Once, Bella … he was hit in the chest…well, the ribs, but there was a puncture to his left lung. They took him right to surgery once we got here. I…imagine they've started not too long ago." Renee described nervously, frowning as she took in her daughter's somber expression, but also not wanting to upset the children who were listening intently.
Bella stumbled back, gasping and catching herself on the wall. Her other hand raised to cover her mouth as she fought to breathe.
"Um…did they say what they were doing? What's going on? Where's Kate? What about Carlisle and Esme…did someone call them? Why didn't someone call me earlier? Did they say what doctor was doing the surgery? What about P…" Bella scrambled her words until she finally settled on the small boy in the room.
"Peter," Bella said softly, fighting to contain the sob in the back of her throat.
She crossed the room in only a few steps, reaching her arm out to the frail-looking boy tucked under her mother's arm. His eyes were soft, glistening with wavering tears. They kept shifting from Charlotte to Bella, to the clock, like a roundabout pattern waiting for the last shoe to drop. Waiting for something.
"Peter? Are you all right?" Bella repeated steadily. She opened her arms softly, inviting him for a hug.
He hesitated for a split second before leaving Renee's side and stepping into Bella's arms, welcoming her light touch on his back. He breathed in her scent, a wave of peace overcoming him. He couldn't stop the tears that began to fall down his cheek.
He bit back, ripping an arm from around Bella's waist to press it to his face to try to hide his mess. He sniffed, pressing his hand harder into his welled-up face.
"Peter…sweetheart. You're all right; everything's okay now. Did she hurt you?" Bella asked through her own tears. They dripped lightly onto Peter's matted hair.
"No… she didn't hurt me…it just happened so fast. She was just there, and I don't know what…" Peter trailed off, shaking his head.
The muscles in Peter's back ached as he re-adjusted, tucking his knees farther into the backside of the stiff couch. He felt an unusual heaviness on top of him, a coat of warmth. He lazily reached his hand over to feel what was providing such comfort—a prickly wool blanket was draped over him, caught in the midst of his tangled legs. He wondered briefly if Bella had placed it over him at some point during the night.
She and Renee were swapping positions every few hours between his Uncle E's room and Charlotte's. He wondered if she would be awake just yet. According to Bella, it'd been a fairly quiet night for Charlotte. Before she went to sleep, she was unhappy about what had occurred at the house, but health-wise, was sound. She desperately wanted to hug Edward again—she was almost as afraid as Peter had been.
Peter knew the feeling.
In the small row of windows above the couch, the first sign of morning light began to creep through the blinds. Peter bit his lip, fighting the flashes so determined to enter his mind. He couldn't go back to that place…the place he fought so hard to escape.
It was a losing battle.
The field with dead flowers, faceless strangers standing, peering at the six-foot hole in the ground.
His father reaching out for him. His mother waiting for him in a simple black dress. While the other women in the crowd dawned pearly white gloves over their hands, hers were a dark, wine red. They slithered over her arms, skin-tight, as if she dunked her arms into a bucket of paint, but Peter knew deep down they weren't gloves.
Droplets of red hit the light green grass.
"It's time to say goodbye, Peter."
But he couldn't do it.
Did that make him any less strong? Was it okay that he couldn't do it?
Peter couldn't say goodbye.
He opened his eyes, shaking his head. He was breathing hard. His eyes raced up the walls, landing on the spot he'd settled on earlier, staring at it for most of the night.
The walls of Uncle E's room were cream—soft, not peeling or devoid of paint in areas, just cream. The night before, it was a strange concept to see his uncle laying there, unresponsive, save for the beeping of the machines. If Peter focused on the walls as he drifted to sleep, they seemed to act as a coat of protection against the reality behind his closed eyes. It was safe and comforting.
He'd been camped out on the hard-cushioned couch since they'd been allowed in to see Edward. He spent a few hours with Charlotte the previous night while they waited for his uncle to be moved from recovery to a regular room.
Peter didn't last long in the recovery room—the one with a lot more machines and buttons, with wires coming and going in every direction. By the time he got there, Edward was already back to sleep. His vitals were checked, and a new round of pain medicine was given. It was calming in a way, as if he was sleeping. Bella said he'd woken up momentarily, roused from the anesthesia, groggy, and not likely to remember anything until he woke up on his own.
This room was nicer—a couch, some chairs, and some small tables lined the area. Peter briefly wondered if it was because of his uncle's position at the hospital. Was it strange for the other doctors to work on one of their own? He made a note to ask Bella about it when this was all over, long over.
He was rest-assured his uncle was out of the woods.
Regardless, leaving wasn't a notion Peter was going to consider until he saw Uncle E's eyes open. And even then, it was highly unlikely.
Bella called him stubborn but didn't fight him on anything.
He'd been the voice of reason since Bella arrived. Held her hand in the time of need, but not for Bella's sake. For his own.
Because without it, he was going to drown in the memory of what transpired in that kitchen...
"What did you do? What the hell did you do? How could you do this?" He cried; his voice raised. The loud tone pricked his skin after the echo of the gunshot. Peter saw everything. He didn't care if she was startled, if it was an accident, none of it mattered. He kicked the gun away from where she dropped it to the far side of the kitchen, "What did you do, Kate!" he screamed.
He'd never had the strength to face his mother head on this way. He'd never even thought of using the words that came out of his mouth—words he'd picked up from the people at his old house when they ran out of something … words that came out of someone's mouth when they got angry. He reached out and gripped her arms tightly.
He saw the look of shock cross Edward's face as he hit the back of the counter and raised a curled hand to his chest. It only fueled the fire beneath his feet.
"I…I. Don't…Peter…we need to leave. You have to come with me." Kate stuttered as her ex-brother-in-law slumped over against the counter. She could hear the sirens wailing in the distance. Her heart was beating slowly. She tugged against her son's hands, trying to drag him with her. They could still run. They could go.
But Peter wouldn't budge.
"No. I'm not letting you go anywhere! You're never going anywhere again! I hate you! And I'm going to make sure you know exactly how much, Mother." Peter spat the last word as if it was an insult, "you wanted me with you, and now you have me, and I think we should stay." Peter gripped her arms tighter. He couldn't control his anger; it was as if all his hate for the woman in front of him had surfaced at this very moment.
His nails dug into her wrists.
She had hurt the one person who loved him unconditionally …
With each glance towards his uncle, he clenched harder. With each glance towards his uncle, he clenched harder, creating a soft glove of red from the indentions.
His uncle's soft voice pulled him out of the rage.
"Right side down, where it hit, it'll help," he mumbled.
He watched his uncle on the ground, compressing the side of his chest with his arm.
"Uncle E?" The words came out in a sob.
It wasn't long before Bella's kitchen and living room became flooded with people in uniform. Peter held his breath and kept his eyes wide as the EMTs worked over his unconscious uncle. They worked swiftly despite being shocked to find a man with a gunshot wound at the scene. They called for backup before turning their attention to him, taping a tube to his face.
Renee spoke to them, giving them insight on Edward's condition. There was a ringing in Peter's ears, and he couldn't seem to make out what she said. He kept his hold tight on Kate's wrist.
He cringed painfully as he watched the medic stick a large needle into his uncle's chest.
He had to turn away from it.
"It was her. She did this!" Peter finally managed to find his voice after he shifted around. He stepped away from the woman, letting go of her wrist, "She gave Charlotte over there food she's allergic to so she would keep quiet. And then she tried to take me! And when my uncle wouldn't let that happen, she shot him! She tried to kill him!" Peter yelled at a police officer with steel-gray eyes.
He wasn't sure if his words were clear; they could have been muffled sobbing for all he knew.
"Sweetie, can you tell me what happened?" The voice of a woman dressed in a navy uniform pulled Peter out of his fury haze. He turned his head towards the other end of the kitchen, where an EMT and a woman with tied-back blonde hair was bending. Charlotte hid further back underneath the dining room table, shaking, with her eyes locked on Edward's form. Peter couldn't follow her eyes but heard the wheels of a gurney being pushed away.
"She…had an allergic reaction…to, uh, nuts. The lady over there gave her a piece of candy. My uncle…the one that got hurt…used an Epi-pen on her. He's a doctor…he told me to tell you…I think she's scared." Peter said as he ran to the other side of the kitchen. He knelt down next to the leg of the kitchen table.
"It'll be okay, Charlotte. I promise."
"Peter?" A raspy voice broke his memory.
AN: I can now confirm Chapter 27 will be the last chapter, followed by an epilogue, future take!
If you like my stories, check out my Facebook group "Mariescullen Fanfiction and Graphics" for teasers, manips, etc!
Checkout my newest story: The Simulation - The Cullen Inc. is supposed to help those met with terrible fate in this life. Edward Masen, Lead Engineer of the IRMA project, finds his latest assignment, Isabella M. Swan, fascinating. Recovering from injury in an unknown world, Isabella struggles with the perception of reality. Meanwhile, IRMA, a prevalent machine created for the greater good, is hijacked by a powerful businessman.
See you soon,
mariescullen