Posted: 2019-04-9; Many, many thanks to eeyorefan12 for Beta-ing.
Bella heard the high-pitched, "Oh!" from the living room. She moved quickly, tripping over the circle of plastic horses set by the door.
"You're going to be really unhappy, Mommy."
This didn't hearten her. Her next step landed on a stray lego piece that had camouflaged itself into the woodwork.
"Fu . . . dge!" she muttered louder than she should have.
"Swearing!" Joshua piped up from the kitchen, his voice a perfect imitation of his father's.
"Mommy's going to swear lots at you, Joshua!" Meredith spat out.
She still had a few more steps to go but at this, Bella halted, stomach sinking. Had she been? Since . . . ?
Quite possibly, she realized.
Ya think? her snarky alter-ego supplied.
All sorts of guilt squirmed in her gut, despite the deep breath she made herself take. Matt had always been so patient with the kids. So patient. The thought of tainting that legacy made her feel physically ill.
She was responsible for all of it now and the weight was palpable. She knew she was angry much of the time, but she thought she'd managed to keep most of it from them.
"That was BAD Joshua, BAD!" Meredith's voice rose with each word, becoming shriller and shriller.
"Don't throw more crap on the fan," Bella mumbled to herself, then walked into the kitchen.
"See?" Meredith accused, pointing to where her younger brother Joshua sat. His usually-cherubic face was squashed into a resentful frown, little eyebrows pulled together.
Following the line of Meredith's finger, Bella caught sight of an overturned but, thankfully, unbroken vase, its spilled water spreading out in a wet and widening circle over the table cloth. The shredded remains of tulips were scattered over the kitchen table and floor.
"Oh," Bella said, feeling a wave of relief.
She'd imagined much worse, because Joshua had a penchant for producing much more dramatic results. She clamped down on the memories that threatened beneath the surface. All of them involved Matthew. He'd always been able to muster a laugh at Josh's adventures, then help Bella see the humour in them, even when all she wanted to do was cry.
At that particular moment, she really just wanted to cry. And not because the flowers were gone.
"He broke your special flowers! He's awful, and I wish he was dead instead of daddy!" Meredith shrieked.
Bella winced at the words, watching the flicker of pain on Joshua's face. She'd had some ugly bargains drift through her mind in the weeks since Matt's death. What she wouldn't give to have him back. In the more difficult moments of parenting grief-stricken children there had been some fleeting but brutal exchanges she'd been briefly willing to make with God. But only briefly.
Blowing out a large breath, she made herself move to the far edge of the table, sitting in the chair between them. "That's not okay to say, Mer," she began softly. "I know you love Josh, just like me." She looked towards the wrecked tulips. "They're just flowers, sweetheart. We can buy more."
"But they were special flowers," her daughter said, voice trembling. "They weren't death flowers." Tears were forming in her eyes.
They had bought the flowers earlier in the day. Tulips had long been Bella's favourite. Their promise of beauty, after a long winter in the ground, spoke powerfully to her. She'd refused all flowers after Matthew died. Charlie and Renee had disapproved, but she'd told them to stuff the notion and let her have at least flowers free of grief. Death could take all sorts of stuff, but she got to keep flowers as a happiness. The indulgent purchase had been an opportunity to lose herself momentarily in the bright red colour, with the hints of pinks and yellows inside an anticipated treasure.
On her other side, Bella could hear Joshua beginning to snuffle too.
Shit.
Shit.
Then he began to wail, head tipped back, voice rising.
Meredith clapped her hands over her ears and ran from the room. The thumping on the stairs meant she'd sought refuge in her bedroom.
Bella wished she could follow, but instead moved towards her son. "You're okay. You didn't do anything wrong. Mer was just upset. She didn't mean any of that. We all feel sad about—"
But she didn't get to finish.
Joshua's hands were pulling his hair and his whistle-like scream filled the room, making Bella's ears ring and her face twist up in pain.
The cat, who was eating from her bowl in the corner, scrambled away from her dish in a well-rehearsed move. The sudden motion distracted Bella from Joshua's grab for the vase. His throw held surprising force for an almost two-year old. The glassy crash sounded quiet next to his screams.
When he tried to get up, Bella put an arm around him, afraid he would injure himself on the glass. This sparked a fury of kicks and punches from his little body. She switched tactics and scooped him up from the chair, holding his back to her chest. His head thwacked back painfully into her jaw.
Her self-control fled.
"NO!" she bellowed, pushing him down to the floor. "YOU DO NOT HURT ME! YOU DON'T HURT YOURSELF! AND YOU DON'T HURT MEREDITH!"
Her voice briefly eclipsed his shriek, stunning him into silence.
The reprieve was fleeting. Bella's mortification over her behaviour, and then the fear for what was coming shoved it away.
The wail began again, rising like a siren, approaching full volume once more.
He fought less when she held him, still tight against her chest, but this time it was with her own tears wetting her face. Not trusting him enough to loosen her grip, she let her nose drip along with her eyes.
"Sorry," she whispered into his hot scalp. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. Mommy shouldn't have lost it."
Joshua's thrashing continued and Bella held tight.
After half an hour, his voice had become hoarse and broken with sobs. "Go!" he would cry every few minutes.
"I need you calm first, buddy."
"NO!" He pushed out. "GO!"
Her arms ached and she wanted nothing more than to let him go, and then curl up and cry.
But she didn't.
During his last meltdown, she had taken him at his squeaked, monosyllabic promises, then watched in horror as he launched himself at Meredith, landing a solid four bruising punches before Bella could pull him off of her. Then he'd bolted for the knives.
She kept those high up in the cupboards now.
Things hadn't been this bad when Matthew had been there, but since his death any change to routine had become a nightmare to navigate with her youngest.
She tightened her arms and whispered, "I love you," into his sweaty head.
Glancing at the clock, Bella sighed. It was five-thirty—close to dinner time, and Meredith would come down soon looking for food, despite the fracas Joshua was making.
Calculating what leftovers were available, Bella tried to figure out what Mer could actually get out of the fridge herself.
At six o'clock, Joshua was still struggling in her arms, which were beginning to weaken from the prolonged hold.
"I need you to be safe, Josh," she tried, murmuring in his ear, moving back quickly when he tried to hit her again with the back of his skull.
A flicker of movement by the door caught her attention.
"It's okay, sweetie, you can come in, just stay away from the broken glass."
Meredith entered slowly, watching Joshua like prey would watch a predator.
"You're safe," Bella said to her. "Can you find a snack in the fridge?"
"NO!" Joshua shrieked.
"Yes, snack in the fridge for Meredith," Bella replied, needing him to accept something, even if it came under duress.
She hated this, the physical restraint she had to use with him. Matthew had rarely had to resort to such measures, usually being able to see the signs well before Bella could.
"No," Joshua complained in a high, croaking voice, looking at the fridge and frowning. Bella noted that his rage-fueled steam whistle had subsided a little.
"Okay, where should we get food from?" Bella tried, almost wincing in anticipation of the response.
"There," he said, looking to the cupboards.
"Do you want something from there?"
"Yellow. Yellow."
Bella dared to hope. If he was saying what he wanted, there was a chance of calming him down. "Can you get a yellow bowl, Mer?"
"NO! NO! NO!" His voice was a full siren again.
"No yellow bowl, okay," Bella hurried out. "Yellow what, Josh?"
"Yellow!" he cried. "What!"
"Oh, cereal!" Meredith said excitedly, and then ran towards the cupboards. Right through the broken glass.
Now Meredith's cries filled the room too.
Struggling to stand under Joshua's weight, Bella carried his kicking form towards Meredith, where she set him down on one side, locking her arm around his neck. After making sure his struggle wasn't because she was choking him, she turned her attention, and her right arm, to Meredith, who had fallen back on her bum and was trying to pull her socks off.
One foot was fine, just a few minor cuts, but the other had a deep puncture that oozed nauseatingly, something soft and white protruding through the flesh.
"Oh God, that's going to need stitches." Bella's nausea was tempered by the realization that they would need to get to the hospital. On a Sunday night.
They'd been there before but always as a whole family, as that's what it had taken to manage everyone.
Meredith whimpered. The last time they'd been there had been to reset her dislocated elbow.
"Josh, wanna go in the car?"
"NO!"
She hadn't thought so.
"Want a lollipop?"
She'd regret it later, but there was a chance it might distract him enough to get him to calm down a little. Maybe to get into the car. Maybe not.
"Lo-li-pop?" He choked out, between frantic breaths.
"Lollipop. In the car."
"Lollipop." he repeated, looking in the direction of the car.
Saying a quiet prayer, she released him. He stood. "Lollipop," he said more firmly, looking towards the door.
"Good job buddy. Go get your shoes and jacket on. Okay?"
He nodded, chest heaving with big breaths.
"Momma's just gonna clean up the glass and help Mer, okay?"
More nodding.
When everyone was safely buckled into their seats, Bella allowed herself a long, slow exhale, then started the engine, pulling away from the curb and driving as smoothly as she could towards the hospital.
- 0 -
It was almost midnight by the time Bella pushed Meredith and Joshua out of the emergency room in one of their loaned wheelchairs. Meredith's rented crutches were tucked beside her in the chair, along with Joshua, who was calmer, but teetering on the dangerous edge of a toddler's exhaustion and overexcitement.
"Just a day being tired," Bella told herself. She'd accepted a substitute call for tomorrow and the kids would have to go to daycare on time or she'd be late. Again.
She kept up a steady stream of talk with the children on the way home, passing them chips from the bag she'd bought from the vending machine. It was crap for food, but it kept them awake. Transferring them from the car while they were sleeping had ended disastrously before and she didn't want to risk it alone.
But, by the time she pulled up to the house, she turned around to find their two small faces tilted innocently back in sleep.
Her groan was quiet, but profound. If she woke Meredith, she might be able to get her to walk into the house. Maybe. But if it woke Joshua—she shuddered, thinking of taking on a second melt-down. Her own sleep was so tantalizingly close, it was painful to consider what failure might mean.
She'd have to wake Meredith if she wanted a chance to get Josh inside. Very quietly, she unbuckled Meredith, gently rubbing her little flushed cheeks. "Shh," she whispered, smoothing away a small curl of hair.
"Tired," Meredith mumbled. "My feet hurt!" she whined on top of this.
"I know," Bella whispered back. "Let's get inside, and you can go to bed, okay? But you have to be very, very quiet."
Well-versed in the reasons why, Meredith nodded, whimpering only a little when she put her feet to the ground with her crutches.
Next, Bella began to undo Joshua's car seat clips. She felt like a member of the bomb squad, not sure what movement would spark detonation.
They were just steps from the back gate when Meredith's crutch lodged itself in a hole and she went stumbling forward, crying out in surprise.
Joshua startled in Bella's arms, catching her off balance. She struggled to keep herself upright and failed, using her arms to protect him as she fell. She took the full impact on her backside and hip, all the air pressed from her lungs. The fall stunned her momentarily and her arms slackened, letting a panicked Joshua spring free. He bolted. Right towards the busy road facing their house.
She didn't have time to scream or to tell him to stop. Struggling to get up, Bella didn't dare look or imagine the squealing tires, or Joshua's frozen form in the street, or the mortal impact her very bones anticipated—His body, hurtling back into her, made her fall backwards again.
She clutched at him, choking out a hoarse cry of relief. "You came back. You're alright."
"Scary," Joshua whispered.
"Yes, scary," she agreed, eyes still shut tight.
In the midst of her fear, she'd completely forgotten about Meredith, who had recovered herself enough to speak up.
"Mommy, who's that?" There was a note of apprehension in her voice.
"Who?" Bella asked, opening her eyes.
Her eyes met a pair of men's shoes, a few feet away on the sidewalk. A set of legs sprouted upwards from the shoes and as her gaze followed this trajectory, she found the rest of a body—and then a face.
Edward Cullen's face.
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.