46 Argentina
A/N for 2020-11-20: Well, a happy Friday to you all. As always, my deepest thanks to Chayasara and Eeyorefan12 for their work on this story (and on my note here, because I had the wrong date!).
Reading: I'm currently enjoying the story Metaphysics by Anais Mark. The story is a Twilight AU that involves Eward leaving town not long after he and Bella meet, well before her suspicions about him evolve into anything dangerous. They meet again in London, where they find themselves both researching the same obscure poet.
- Erin
Bella pushed down on the top of her suitcase, zipping it closed. She stared at the bag for a few moments before looking around the hotel room that had become something of a home over the last few weeks. Though she had said her goodbyes in Forks, this was the final step out of her old life, one to which she would not return. She thought she'd been on the edge emotionally when she'd hugged her dad goodbye. But this was it—no more phone calls and no more describing what was actually happening around her. She'd continue to send her father email, but it would be pure fakery, fading off at some point to some final, fabricated ending.
This was the true goodbye, and while the therapy had helped address so much of the emotional baggage she'd carried with her from Italy, she found herself grappling with a grief that she'd thought she'd already resolved. She felt foolish for being so naive.
I love you, Mom and Dad, and I'm so sorry for what this is going to do to you.
She understood, only in part, but she knew what a gut-punching hole it would be for her father to think she had died.
"Months away," she told herself, but it didn't feel that distant.
"Ready?" Edward asked, appearing at the door.
No. "Yeah." There was no way she was ever going to be ready for this. She wiped at her eyes.
His hands slid around her waist, inviting an embrace. When she turned to face him, her tears dampened his shirt.
"He thinks you're off to school. He and your mother will be happy for you." Edward didn't need to say to whom he was referring.
"I know." Her words were muffled by his chest.
"But you're allowed to be sad about what's coming, too."
"I know." She wished this made it easier.
In the car, she clenched her hand around Edward's. Jacob rode in the front beside the driver, whipping his head back and forth, taking in the last vestiges of New York. He'd struggled with the never-ending noise of the city, but he'd loved its offerings, too. "Any hints on the next stop?" he asked, turning back to look at Edward.
Edward shook his head, eyeing the driver pointedly.
Jacob rolled his eyes but shrugged and faced forward again.
It was only in the privacy of the small airplane hangar that Edward finally spoke. "Argentina," he told them as they moved up the small set of stairs to the jet.
"Argentina?" Jacob sounded as surprised as Bella felt.
"Yes." Edward smiled apologetically.
"Like, Argentina—forever?" Jacob asked.
Edward's smile became something of a grin. Bella tried not to smirk. Jacob was still so . . . young. Her time away had aged her more than she wished.
"For now." Edward looked to Bella, and she smiled softly at him. He seemed to relax a little. Had he been worried about his choice?
Yes, she decided. There was a tiny pull in his cheek bones when he was nervous, and it was there now.
The trip was long. Bella wished she could have mustered more excitement for it, but she left most of that to Jacob, who looked eagerly out of every window, taking in the sight of the new continent and its mountains.
The next hangar they deplaned in looked much like the one in which they'd boarded, and though the large SUV waiting for them was white rather than black, it seemed similar, too. The dry air was welcome after New York's humidity, and the temperature cooled as the vehicle wound them through twisting and ascending roads.
Bella fell asleep at some point, waking to find the driver gone and Edward behind the wheel.
"Don't worry, he didn't eat him," Jacob said, having noticed her quizzical expression.
Bella rolled her eyes at the bad joke. "Thanks for clearing that up."
"We're almost there," Edward said, ignoring them both, "but we can stop, if you need to." She knew the suggestion was directed at her.
As was becoming habit, Bella swept her awareness over her body, checking on all her needs, particularly for any signs that the withdrawal symptoms might be returning. She squirmed a little in her seat, making sure she really was okay. Jacob had never witnessed Edward treating her addiction, nor did he truly know what it entailed and she didn't want to change that, especially not while they were in a car. "No, I'm okay." She was certain of it.
Still, Edward's worried gaze met her in the rearview mirror.
She smiled back at his reflection, mouthing, "I'm fine."
Edward nodded, but his focusgaze stayed where it was.
Even after all this time, his gazeless driving unnerved her, and she looked out the side window, taking in the alternating rocky or green terrain. Their route moved them further into the greenery, and soon they were flanked by tall trees on either side of the road.
"How far are we from a city or town?" she asked.
"Just about an hour from Salta," Edward said.
Salta. He'd given her a book on the airplane with the page for Salta bookmarked. It was a large city, very touristy. An interesting choice. There would be lots to do, if they wanted, but they'd have their privacy, too.
"We can certainly explore a bit, but we won't be able to spend a lot of time there," Edward said softly.
No, they wouldn't, not if they meant to keep a low profile. That was key.
When they finally pulled to a stop, it was in front of a house unlike any Bella had ever seen. Each rectangular block featured a strip of continuous windows through its middle, the rectangles stacked at alternating angles. Glinting at them from the lowest rectangle was the startling blue of water. It seemed to hover there, unconfined.
"Is that a—?"
"Glass-fronted pool." Edward smiled at Jacob.
"Whoa."
Bella could second that statement. The whole assembly of buildings looked like something out of Lifestyles of The Rich and Famous. At first glance, the house—if she could call it that—seemed large enough to be a small resort.
"It is a little visually jarring at first glance." Edward stood at Bella's open car door. "I promise the inside is more conventional." He looked apologetic again, holding out his hand for her to take.
Jacob stretched beside the car, looking towards the forest. "Mind if I—?"
"Not at all," Edward said. "Remember—"
"A half mile. I know." He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, but there was a tightness to the smile he gave Edward.
Bella waved at Jacob, watching him lope into the treeline. Then she smiled at Edward, trying not to let herself worry at this sign of Jacob's discontent. This would take some adjustment for all of them, especially now that they wouldn't have as many convenient distractions as there had been in New York.
"Conventional" was nowhere near any word Bella would use to describe the house's interior. As it appeared from the outside, each front section of the house featured unbroken views through the seamless windows that ran the length of every block. While the rectangular prism appeared to float in the surrounding greenery, each one ran back diagonally so that the whole structure was a wedge split into different levels and sections. Each staircase floated out in equally giant stone slabs from central concrete pillars that rose from the ground below. She revised her initial assessment. It wasn't like something from Lifestyles of The Rich and Famous; it was like something from a Bond movie—a crazy villain's equally architecturally crazy house.
She looked at Edward, bursting into laughter.
He lifted his eyebrows in response. "Well, that wasn't the reaction I expected."
She waved her hand toward the house. "I'm getting James Bond villain vibes."
He laughed. "Well, as I've been telling you for a very long time, I'm not the hero in this story."
His hands rested on her waist. He didn't pull her towards him, but she understood the invitation. Moving closer, she laughed again. "Oh my God, that makes me the ditzy and morally questionable villain girl."
Edward chuckled. "You're too smart for that. But . . . can I give you a tour of my Bond-villain lair?"
The house was furnished comfortably but with an eye to minimalism in keeping with the architecture. She liked the airiness of it all, the many skylights letting in an abundance of natural light. Nestled in the dimness between two blocks of sunlight was a piano. At first glance, it seemed small, but as she took in more of the space, she realized that the baby grand was merely dwarfed by its surroundings.
"There are guest quarters, too," Edward said. He led her down the stairs towards a small hallway that ended in a closed door, waving towards the entrance. "I thought Jacob would like to have a place of his own."
"Because the rest of this isn't big enough?" Bella asked, teasing him. She'd been mentally gauging the size of each space, and she'd easily seen something close to one of the museums they had visited in New York. Had she even seen the entire house, yet?
"Because this is more difficult for him than he's admitting—to himself or to anyone else." He did not smile or frown as he said this, but Bella knew the ring of truth in his voice and she sobered immediately. She'd seen as much with her own eyes.
"If this doesn't work, Edward—"
"This will work," he said, his voice determined. "Don't even think about giving up because there are some difficulties."
She paused to consider Edward's insistence. She'd known that this would be difficult—that there would be some bumps in the road. It was harder, though, when the bumps were in front of her friend and not her—her friend who had given up his life for the time being so that she could have one.
So far, their time away had been fairly easy for her. She thought of the therapy and all of Edward's efforts in supporting her. Jake had been included in as many of their other activities as possible, and she had spent a little time just hanging out with him while Edward had hunted for small game in nearby Central Park. Still, she knew in her heart it wasn't nearly enough to appease Jacob.
"Come for a swim with me?" Edward asked. She realized he'd been observing her while she was lost in thought, and now he was offering her a welcome diversion.
She shivered a little and not for any reason that was temperature-related.
"There's an indoor hot tub, if you prefer—"
"I'd love to swim with you," she murmured, turning towards him and standing up on her tiptoes. Their lips met in a kiss, and Edward moaned softly, the sound vibrating through her lips, his fingers flexing at her waist. There hadn't been a repeat of the intimacy they'd shared in New York days before, but Bella could well imagine there being a repetition now. Just the thought of it made her slightly dizzy—slightly more than dizzy, actually.
Edward pulled away with a soft "Sorry" on his lips.
"Why?" she asked, feeling a little stunned. It only took her a moment to realize why he was apologizing. Her lips tingled. His kiss had been more open-mouthed than they normally were, and—oh, right. She felt stupid for not having realized it immediately. The touch of his tongue had felt so natural, nothing like the treatment that was still so clinical. She shook her head. "Show me where in this villain-house a girl can stow her stuff and get changed?"
- 0 -
Bella had passed her GED with high marks, and not wanting to lose steam by breaking her study pace, had immediately signed up for a first-year English course through a distance education program offered by an obscure college Edward had suggested.
She was reluctant to admit even to herself that she was regretting the choice. The assigned readings were interesting, but it felt laborious, slogging through the writing work. She looked at the books spread out over the dining table, the room's many skylights illuminating the texts. Nearby, Edward read in one of the upholstered chairs, one leg haphazardly slung over the armrest. She envied his ability to be so relaxed while reading, then almost laughed at herself when she realized that his posture was most likely entirely for her benefit. She rubbed at her face with her hands. She was finding it hard to focus and not because he was nearby. She was just so tired. Her mouth formed a yawn, and she fought to keep it back, blinking at the words on the pages before her. She fiddled with her pen, but try as she might, she could find no words for the essay she needed to complete.
In her peripheral vision, she watched Edward put down his own book and sit up straight, his gaze resting on her. She tried very hard to ignore him. After a few more minutes of attempting to shepherd her thoughts, she put down her pen.
"Would you like to take a break and go for a walk?" Edward asked.
"You can't really call it a break when you haven't accomplished anything," she mumbled, frowning. Then she sighed. "I'm sorry. That was really snarky. I'm—"
"Frustrated. I can tell." He was smiling gently when she turned to look at him.
She was. But she was tired all the time. They'd been in Argentina for two weeks now, and she'd hoped, as she'd hoped in New York, that she would finally cross that final threshold in recovery and not need any more venom. Her body remained stubbornly attached to it, and she required it at least every five days. The amount required remained undiminished, and despite Edward's attempts to lessen it, her withdrawal symptoms returned in force when he did so.
Even though Edward hadn't made specific reference to it, she also knew that her heart remained arrhythmic and weak, her varying energy levels testament to the irregularity of her blood flow.
It was a disheartening situation, and while she wasn't depressed, she struggled to make peace with this altered future. She was beginning to fear that things might never change.
Then there was Jacob.
She sighed again.
"Come on," Edward said, hopping up gracefully. "Let's go for a walk."
A walk. It was about all she could manage.
Stop it with the self-pity, Swan. "Sure."
Several walking paths fanned out from the house, winding through the dense swath of trees. It was a very different sort of forest from the one she'd known at home, but she liked the crunch of the dry leaves and needles underfoot, and she liked even better the cool hand that kept custody of her own.
She'd stopped asking Jacob if he wanted to join them on these walks. He kept his distance from Edward though he would join Bella when Edward went hunting. They'd made a few trips into town, where Jacob seemed happier to be near other people. He was lonely, and while Edward assured her that Jacob would adjust, she wasn't as confident . It was a heavy weight on the pieces of happiness she enjoyed, and sometimes it was easier to let herself believe what she knew was the most optimistically framed truth that Edward offered her. Jacob might adjust, but she doubted he would be happy.
They were almost to her favourite ombú tree when the dizziness struck.
"Whoa." She put her free hand on Edward's shoulder, the world spinning as her knees gave out.
Edward's arms were around her instantly, helping her sit on one of the tree's thick roots. She put her head between her knees, waiting for the lightheadedness to pass. Edward's hand rubbed her back in slow circles. She'd given up on apologizing for the way her frailty interfered with even the simplest tasks.
Pity party, much?
She was alive and she was otherwise whole. I'm damn lucky is what I am.
The dizziness, though, was intensifying. They were four days out from the last time she'd had venom, and the itchiness growing in her skin told her that her body was insisting on early delivery for the next treatment.
She swore silently. Pity party or no, the withdrawal reminded her of what Demetri had done, and no matter how much she told herself that it was Edward touching her and no matter how many mental tools she had acquired from therapy, there was always a part of her brain that insisted on remembering exactly what Demetri's hands or other body parts had felt like.
"I think we need to go back to the house," she said, her voice quavering. What she really meant was that she needed him to carry her, and she was too miserable with the shame of her body's failure to say so aloud.
Without having to be asked, Edward lifted her, planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head and carried her back to the house.
- 0 -
"I still can't believe you haven't seen Goldfinger. It's a classic," Bella said to Edward, plopping herself on the couch with her bowl of popcorn. After her repeated jokes about their Bond-villain abode, Bella had discovered that Jacob had never actually seen this Bond film either. In a rare display of camaraderie, he had agreed to Bella's request to watch the movie with her and Edward.
From where he lounged in an armchair nearby, Jacob hungrily eyed the bowl in her hands until she laughed and waved him over to grab his share.
Edward smiled at Bella, urging her closer with a gentle tug on her sleeve. She was happy to oblige him, going so far as to lay her head on his shoulder.
Back on the other side of the room, Jacob performed his typical eye roll, his mouth already full of popcorn.
Bella was determined not to fall asleep during this film. It had been something like a curse of old, not being able to get through an entire movie without waking up partway through. She'd armed herself with a nap earlier in the day, and the evening was still young.
She smiled in anticipation as the credits began to roll with the names of the actors and the roles they played. Then one particular character's name popped up and suddenly Jacob was laughing out his last mouthful of popcorn. "You have got to be kidding me!" It was pure delight to see him so animated.
"Nope." Bella's face already felt tired from smiling so widely. On top of seeing Jacob look happy, she was enjoying the novelty of being the only person familiar with the film and realizing how much fun it was to spring a surprise on both of them. How often was she in on something that neither Edward nor Jacob knew about? Like, never.
"When was this made?" Jake stared at the screen with a look of incredulity.
"Nineteen sixty-four," Edward replied automatically.
Bella lifted her head from his shoulder and stared at him. "I thought you said—"
Edward brushed his fingers lightly over her shoulder. "I haven't seen it, but it was a big deal. Ms. . . .Galore's name was a particularly big deal for the time. And people thought about it a lot."
Jacob laughed again. "I'll bet!" He glanced slyly in Edward's direction. "Maybe I should think about it over the next few days."
Bella had already returned her head to Edward's shoulder so she couldn't see his face, but she would have sworn he was the one rolling his eyes this time.
The film progressed in all its dated and campy glory, and the popcorn was long gone before several characters were dead, and the protagonist was close to the final confrontation with his nemesis. She'd forgotten a lot about the film, which she supposed was fair, given that she'd watched it with Charlie when she was quite young. In particular, she didn't recall the scene that was now transpiring in front of her, the one set in a barn with the character of Bond involved in what seemed like a far-too familiar scenario playing in front of her. When he dropped his female opponent to the ground again, it was his knee pushing her legs apart that made Bella bolt inelegantly from the couch with a rushed, "I need some air."
Each block of the house was fitted with a glass-fronted strip of balcony. These clear railings had left Bella woozy the first time she stood near them, but she didn't notice the invisibility of the barrier now. The actor's smirking expression floated in her mind, confusing itself with the one on Demetri's face.
"This is now, that was then," she whispered to herself as she leaned forward, her head in her hands, drawing in deep lungfuls of air. She could practically feel Demetri's knee between her own. She repeated her mantra over and over again.
"Bella?"
When she looked up, Edward was standing by the door to the balcony, his feet planted in such a way as to show he wasn't moving anywhere.
"Just need some air," she said. She really did, along with a strong dose of selective amnesia. She closed her eyes again.
"Can I come out there?"he asked gently.
She felt herself cringe. . "Please . . . not yet," she whispered. The thought of rejecting him in any way was painful. She just needed time.
"Jacob's quite worried about you."
She swore silently. Beyond the Cullens and her therapist, she hadn't told anyone else about what Demetri had done. If she'd had her way, she would have erased the knowledge from all minds everywhere, particularly those of the Cullens. The fewer people who knew, the better, especially when she had anticipated the eternal memory that would have been hers once changed. Now . . . well, now she still didn't want people to know and remember for her when there was a chance the memories would fade. Why couldn't she just forget it all?
He spoke in a low voice. "I'm afraid he's drawn some accurate conclusions about why you're upset. Some . . . inaccurate ones as well."
She whispered her curse words now, tears streaming down her cheeks. She could hardly be angry with Jacob for making the connection although now she was also wondering about the "inaccuracy" of some of his conclusions that Edward had mentioned. Oh god, did he think that Edward . . . ? Clenching her hands into fists, she closed her eyes again, trying to regulate her breathing and at least calm herself. The technique didn't work, and she tried again. Hands tingling, she released her fists, opening her eyes to see alarming spots in her vision. A familiar itchiness was beginning in her extremities, crawling up her legs and arms to her torso. "Oh," she said, turning and nearly falling.
She was in Edward's arms before she could try to right herself. It's now, not then, she told herself when her body tried to recoil from his touch. This is the man who loves you, the man that you love.
She managed to calm herself with these thoughts long enough for Edward to get her inside, but just as he set her down on her bed, the panic overwhelmed her and she pushed him away unthinkingly. Her heart pounded, a ringing filling her ears. She couldn't breathe. Edward stood beside the bed, his jaw tight, his eyes moving over her like he was trying to decide what to do for her first. He began to shake. No. She was shaking.
Then Jacob appeared behind Edward, and she couldn't understand the conversation between them. There were words and faces twisted with strong emotions and then two voices calling her name before she blessedly slipped into a blackness that felt like peace.
She woke to the sound of soft beeps and whooshes. Blinking, she alternated between the softness of the dark and the harsh brightness of the sunlit space surrounding her. Edward was a pale pillar beside her bed.
"Good morning," he said. The worried pinch between his eyebrows told her it had not been a good night—or nights?
"Hi." She was surprised that she could even form the syllable. She felt so slow, so weak. She could barely lift her arms although she was trying. While she was unable to ask Edward what had happened to her, speech became unnecessary when he read the question in her eyes.
Edward swallowed. "Your heart stopped."
It had? Again, this information filtered in slowly. She let her blurry focus wander, taking in the room. Ah. Right. There were several familiar hospital machines parked in various places. She recognized what they were from her hospital stay in Phoenix. Why didn't it surprise her that they were here? Then she moved her gaze and found the IV bag and line. What was he giving her?
As if he could hear the question—maybe he could hear it?—Edward answered. "I've put you on some blood thinners and beta blockers. You're going to feel very woozy." His eyes were that mottled in-between colour. Hadn't they been lighter last night? How long had she been—?
"You've been unconscious since last night."
Edward adjusted a dial on the IV stand and then came closer, putting his hands on the bed. He leaned over her then, putting his weight on his arms and making the mattress dip. When he spoke again, his voice was husky with emotion. "I'd ask you to never do that to me again, but I'm not sure it's entirely within your control."
"Sorry," she murmured. She didn't like how he was looking at her or how she thought he was feeling. Her faculties were slowly coming together. Her heart had stopped. Whoa. "Was it . . . withdrawal?" Her words were barely a whisper.
"I think so." He ran his hand through his hair. "I'm not sure what it would be otherwise. There was nothing else that Carlisle found when he was treating you at home. But yes, I think it's the effects of either the addiction or the withdrawal. It's taking . . . a toll on your body, Bella, one that I did not expect."
Again, she looked around the room at the machines, lifting her eyebrow as she did so, which required a startling degree of effort. If he didn't expect anything, what the heck was all this, then? It hadn't materialized out of thin air.
"Given our remote location, I wanted to be prepared for any eventuality." Either he could hear her again, or he had taken note of her perusal of her surroundings. She wasn't sure she cared which explanation was correct.
She wondered what else he had stored in the house, a nuclear fallout shelter? She giggled. Good Lord. Was she on morphine again?
Edward adjusted the IV dial again, his lips attempting a reassuring smile but failing.
She couldn't quite read the labels on the bags, but things were growing fuzzy again—intermittently black. She blinked, and the spaces became longer between the blinks, the light changing from white to black.
The next time she woke, it was with a growling stomach. Her limbs were her own to move again, though slowly, and she lifted her hand to her face. It felt strange, and when her fingers reached the cannula under her nose, she understood why.
"Jacob's bringing you something to eat," Edward said softly. He hovered by the bed, reaching his hand out tentatively.
She grasped it with her own, a profound sense of relief travelling up her arm and through the rest of her. With it came the memories of the film they'd been watching and her reaction to it and how Edward had told her that her heart had stopped. Clearly, it was beating now. She eyed the machines, a few of which she didn't recognize, but they were no longer attached to her. Although she was sure he was trying not to, Edward appeared tense and worried. Her heart had stopped. That would be worrisome, especially to the man who was fighting harder than anyone to keep it beating. She dug through her knowledge of biology, trying to make sense of what she vaguely remembered of cardiac physiology from books or lectures, but there was so much she didn't know. She doubted Edward would tell her everything, especially if he thought it would cause her stress. Still, she didn't exactly have anyone else to ask.
"What does this mean?"
She caught only a glimpse of the pain in his eyes before he looked away and shook his head.
This was more than alarming. "Edward?"
Jacob arrived at that moment, carrying a tray. "Hi. Nice to see you awake."
Things must be really bad if Jacob wasn't cracking a joke. She looked back at Edward.
"You should eat something," he said softly, still not making eye contact.
The "Okay" that left her lips felt strangely raspy and dry.
It didn't take much of the soup Jake had brought for her to feel full. She pushed away the bowl on the tray, trying to catch Edward's eye. He was sitting in the chair next to the bed, but he was pretending to do something with one of the machines beside him. Jacob had vanished as soon as Bella had begun eating. Whatever it was they weren't telling her, it was bad.
"Carlisle's coming," Edward said, turning and facing her.
What? "But, I thought—"
"I've made all the arrangements for him, including a car to pick him up from the airport." Edward's expression was stoic as he said this in a flat tone. His eyes didn't quite meet hers but were trained on something slightly over her head. "I didn't tell him where we are, and the only decision he's made is to go to the airport in Seattle, so there should be nothing that will alert the Volturi."
When Bella didn't respond to this, Edward finally lowered his gaze and focused on her.
"I would bring in another doctor if I could, Bella, but I don't have a way to explain what's happening to you. If there is any hope of treating this, then Carlisle will . . . there isn't anyone else I can ask."
Any hope? "I'm dying?"
"No." Edward's hands were folded together and resting on the side of the bed. He was leaning forward and Bella couldn't help thinking that he looked as if he were praying. "No. Your heart is just . . . struggling right now to do what it needs to do."
Her heart was failing, and she was dying. And he was so terrified by this that he couldn't even bring himself to say it. She couldn't bear the look of helplessness on his face. Sliding her hand under his, she grasped it as firmly as she had strength for. "I'm here right now, and if Carlisle's coming, then things are going to be okay."
His features twisted into a pained expression. If he were human, she'd expect him to weep. Gently but abruptly, he pulled away, staring at the floor as he spoke. "I need to hunt. Jacob will come stay with you. He'll alert me if there is any concern."
Then he was gone, and Bella stared at the space where he'd been, her heart both beating and breaking for the man she loved.
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.
