When Angels Deserve to Die...
by, Smeagol's girl
(Takes place years after Kim dies. Edward meets a doctor who can not only help him, but give him a home. When he gets there he soon discovers that the doctor's home is a house for people who have become outcasts (mostly teens) either because of who they were or because they, like him, had something special about themselves. Everything goes well until he meets a teen girl with problems of her own. Rated PG-13 for angst. I own nothing except for any unfamiliar characters.)
Part 1:
A New Home
"This is my life
It's not what it was before
All of these feeling's I've shared
These are my dreams
I've never lived before
Somebody shake me cuz I
I must be sleeping..."
-'So Far Away', Staind
It was a dark and cold night, and Edward sat alone on his bed in the chimeny. The night was very bleak, and he knew he'd spend it alone once again. No one ever came in there, not since the day Kim left. He was numb. Not tired, nor hungry, nor sad. Just numb with cold and lonliness. He wished that for once just someone, it didn't matter who, but someone would slip in, even if it was for a minute. The mansion had become his prison, and he longed to see life outside of it again.
But it was not safe, he continuously reminded himself. People would hate him again, he would hurt someone, and the police would chase him. People, he sneered. They never accept anyone who's different. They just try to push them away and that's the end of it.
"Kim," he muttered to himself. She wasn't like them. Maybe at first, but she was the only one who had come to love him. She was the only one he had ever fallen in love with.
"Go in there!" shouted a voice from outside. He poked his head up and walked to the window to see who was there. Two teen boys and a girl, probably all drunk by the way they were staggering, were standing there, one of the boys pushing the girl towards the mansion. "I dare you to go in there!"
"Stop it!" she shouted, pushing him back. "I'm not going in there."
"C'mon! Go see if ol' Scissorhands it still in there." Edward watched as the girl screamed as they pushed her towards the gate again. He shook his head. This wasn't right, and he headed down the stairs, ready to go out the door and possibly scare them away.
He had just opened the door when a fourth voice was heard, this one older than the teens, and sober.
"What the hell do you kids think you're doing?" he growled. The teens all looked at him and started laughing.
"C'mon, pops!" said the taller boy. "We're just having a little fun."
"Now you listen to me," said the man, pointing a finger in the boy's face. Even in his drunken state he could tell that the man wasn't playing around. Edward moved towards the gate, but managed to stay unseen so he could still see them. "I want you and your friends to get out of here or I'll call the cops." The tall boy nodded, and grabbed the other two by their arms.
"C'mon," he growled. "Let's go hang somewhere else!" They all staggered away, laughing and acting stupid. The man who remained looked up at the mansion, and stepped up to the gate.
"Wonder how long it's been since anyone's actually been in there," he muttered to himself. Edward moved a little closer, but the bush made a rustling noise, and the man looked dirrectly at him. He held in his breath, would the man shout for the police? Would he run?
But instead, the man stared at him, looking him up and down with facination. "Hello, there," he muttered. "What have we here?" Edward shrank back a little, but the man held up his hands. "No, wait! Don't go. I'm not going to hurt you." Edward stopped, and stood still, not really sure what to do now. "Do you live here?" Edward paused and nodded carefully.
"Yes," he said softly.
"With who?" Edward shook his head.
"No one." The man nodded casually.
"Must get very lonely in there."
"Sometimes." The man seemed safe. He was just standing there and talking to him as if he were a normal person.
"Are those your hands?" he suddenly asked in facination. Edward held them up and nodded.
"Yes. I'm not finished." The man stepped through the gate and approached him cautiously.
"Do you have a name?" he asked.
"Edward," he responded, feeling a little nervous with the man approaching him.
"Edward," repeated the man. He pointed to Edward's blades. "May I?" he asked. Edward nodded and the man took them and looked them over. "I've never seen anything like this. It's simply amazing! The blades are so beautiful and so sharp. Have your hands always been like this?"
"Yes." The man beamed at him and looked at them some more. "They're not amazing," said Edward. "They hurt people. That's why I live alone. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want any trouble." There was a sort of sadness in his eyes that the man saw immediatly.
"Tell me, Edward was it?" Edward nodded. "Would you like to come and live with me? You won't have to be alone anymore, and I'm a doctor. I can give you hands if you like." Edward's face brightened a bit.
"I would like that," he said eagerly. The man smiled at him.
"My name's Rodney, and I'd be honored to help you in whatever way I can." Eward smiled and left with him, just like that.
"And this is your room," said Rodney as he showed Edward to his room. "There's a bathroom right down the hall, and the girls dormitories are upstairs. Boys aren't allowed up there after eight at night. But I doubt that'll be a problem." Edward nodded. "Now, the last time I saw the others, they were in the TV lounge. You remember where that is, right?"
"Yes," he answered. "How many others are there?"
"Eleven," said Rodney with a smile. "Five girls and six boys. Well, you make seven now. They're a fine group, and you'll fit right in. You see, this place is for people who have nowhere else to go. Many of them have been rejected for being different. Some just needed a place to stay. I must warn you, you may hear some very sad stories from some of them, especially the teens. A lot of them have been through terrible experiences." Edward nodded silently. He understood that very well. "Alright, I'll leave you to it then."
Once Rodney was gone, Edward headed down the stairs and into the TV lounge, where a group of people, seven teens, three adults, and one child, sat watching Spiderman. One of the teen boys glanced up at him and smiled. He had blue hair, spiked, and a nose piercing. When Edward looked him over, he noticed the boy's left arm was missing.
"Hey, the new guy," said the boy. Everyone glanced up, except for a teen girl, sitting in the corner and bent over a sketch book. Edward barely noticed her though. "I'm Lance." He stood up and walked over, ready to shake his hand. Edward held his hand up just in time, and Lance stepped back, nodding with eyes wide. "Whoa!" he muttered.
A girl with blonde hair in a pony tail beamed at him. "I'm Samantha." She was in a wheel chair, and one of her eyes seemed glazed over. Next came a man, dressed like a goth. "Chris," he said with a smirk. Then another teen boy with claws and white blonde hair. "Mark. Pleased to meet you, mate." The rest proceeded to introduce themselves, some seeming completely normal, and others having some odditty that stood right out.
From the back corner, the girl everyone had forgotten about, peaked up from her sketch book to look at him. Her lips curved into a half smirk, and she quickly looked back down again so he wouldn't see her. She was the only one who didn't introduce herself that night.
"That's Corina," said Samantha from her wheel chair. She pointed to her, and Edward stared at her for a long time. "She never talks, so don't expect a warm welcome." Corina looked up from her sketchbook, dirrectly at him. What he saw, startled him. Her skin was white, completely white. Her eyes were red, and she had long black hair that rippled down her back. Even a tail to add on. She was, without a doubt, the strangest creature he had ever seen. "She was born like that," whispered Samantha. "At least that's what we think. No one knows where she came from, except for the doc. He's the only one she'll talk to. I don't even think anyone here has heard her voice."
"She looks lonely," muttered Edward.
"You'll get used to her," said Chris. "Everyone else had to. She never gets bitchy so you've got nothing to worry about."
"Can you guys pipe down?" said the little boy sitting on the floor. Joshua was his name. He was there because he was homeless. He didn't really have anything strange about him (for a boy). They all sat down, and spoke with Edward quietly.
Corina looked up at him again and began to draw what she saw. Pale face, like hers, greyblue eyes that seemed empty, and scissors for hands. No doubt the doc had promised to help him with that. The way Edward had looked at her was the same way everyone else did, and she sighed as she moved to a clean sheet. He would be no different from the others.
"Move it, freak!" snarled Joshua as he brushed past Corina in the kitchen. Edward glanced up at her, surprised to see her just let it go and continue dishing up her breakfast. He remembered when Kim's boyfriend had called him a freak. He had hated it so much then, and yet it didn't seem to bother her.
"Joshua, shut up!" said Samantha from across the room.
"Make me!" the kid growled. Edward raised his eyebrows. What a brat, he thought to himself.
"Josh!" called Chris in his deep booming voice. "Chill." Joshua looked up at him with big eyes and nodded. Edward smirked. At least someone could keep him in line. He looked back over at Corina who sat down alone on the otherside of the room, away from the others. This seemed to be the way she did everything. Away from them.
"Hey, are you going to come eat, or are you the new realistic statue?" asked Lance. Edward smirked and went with him to another table.
Corina sat in front of her mirror, staring down her reflection for the longest time. There was nothing she could do about her face. Her skin would always be white, her eyes would always be red, and she'd always have a tail. She closed her eyes and smashed her fist in the mirror. She was ugly, and she'd always be ugly. Everything she saw she hated, and she wished she could just disappear and let everyone else get on with life. Especially the doc. He had done too much for her already, and she was tired of disappointing him every day.
A small stab of pain diverted her attention to her hand. It was bleeding from the shards of glass she had created, and it stung like hell. Moving quickly, she stood up and pulled out a roll of gause wrap. She carefully wrapped it around her hand and taped it down. There was always gause wrap in her room, because she was in constant need of it. Her looks weren't her only problem. She was a cutter, and a damn good one. Her arms and legs were proof of it, so she always stayed covered. The doc knew about it of coarse and had tried to help her. He wasn't the first one.
"Corina?" came a voice from the door. She turned and knew it was the doc. "Corina what broke? Are you alright in there?" She didn't reply, but started shaking. She never trusted anyone standing outside her door unless she could see them. Over the years she had learned the hard way that people could not be trusted. The door opened, and she sighed with relief. It was only him. He looked at her wrapped up hand, and then the shattered mirror. "It's okay," he said softly as he walked over to her and put an arm over her shoulders. "It'll be okay." She started crying, and he lead her into his office to bandage her up.
Edward was watching TV with Lance and Chris when Corina came in, one hand bandaged up, and her nose and eyes red from crying.
"What happened to you?" asked Chris. Corina didn't even look at him. She just simply sat there, watching the TV.
"She probly tried to kill herself again," said Lance, not looking away from the TV. Edward looked up, a little surprised to hear that. He hadn't really realized such a thing existed as suicide. Corina's head lowered a little, and he could tell she was trying to ignore them.
"Shut up," said Chris. "That's not funny." Edward stared at Corina. He couldn't imagine what frame of mind she was in if she was even considering ending her life. Corina looked up at him, seeming surprised to see him staring at her like that.
"Are you okay?" Edward asked. Not caring if she answered or not. Corina merely stared at him, and Lance snickered.
"You're waisting your time," he muttered. "She doesn't talk to no one."
"Maybe she doesn't have to," said Edward. Corina stared at him for a while before standing up and leaving silently. There was something in her eyes he couldn't read very well, and something told him she didn't want him to.
"It's not your fault, Ed," said Chris. "Corina's been through a lot, that's all. I think eventually she'll come around to talking again."
"She tried to kill herself?" asked Edward, still not getting past that.
"Just once," said Chris rolling his eyes. "That was three years ago, but the people here spread rumors that she's going to try it again. It's just a load of bull. Rule one in this place, don't believe everything you hear."
"Why do people say things like that?"
"To be mean," said Chris. "No matter where you go the people are all the same. Unaccepting of someone who's different, and just cruel sometimes."
"I know what that's like," said Edward with a frown.
"Who doesn't?" said Lance. "That's why we hide away in here. People leave you alone." Chris shook his head.
"It's just as bad, Lance," he said softly.
"Not really," muttered Lance. "We've got the doc."
"He seemed nice," said Edward.
"He's a good man," said Chris with a nod. "Everyone here likes him."
"He said he'd give me hands." Lance grinned.
"Yeah, well he promises a lot of things. You can ask Corina."
"Lance, that's enough," scolded Chris. "Corina has been the only exception. The doc will probably be able to help you."
"What happened to her?" asked Edward.
"Are you kidding?" asked Lance, raising his eyebrows. "We barely even know the whole story. Besides, we're not allowed to talk about it. Doctor's orders."
"Why not?"
"Because it's a personal issue for her, and the only reason we know about it is because we were there through most of it," said Chris. "Let's just change the subject." As if on cue, the door opened, and Joshua stepped in with a DVD in his hand.
"I get to watch my movie now, folks," he said with a sneer. He walked over to the DVD player and placed the disc in.
"Not this movie again!" wined Lance.
"Let it go," muttered Chris.
"I don't care. I am so sick of 'The Italian Job.' I'm going outside. I think I saw Samantha and Mark playing frisbie." He stood up and left. Edward moved over so he was sitting next to Chris. The man smirked and leaned over.
"This is his favorite movie. We've seen it over a million times. You ever seen it?"
"No," said Edward. "What happened to Lance?"
"What?" asked Chris.
"His arm?" Chris nodded and sat back.
"Oh, that," he muttered. "He was hit by a truck when he was six. The bone broke in so many places that they couldn't save it. They had to amputate."
"He seems to do fine without it." Chris smirked.
"Of coarse he does. He's had plenty of time to adapt. You'd think he didn't miss it." Edward nodded with a smirk and sat back, glancing at the door briefly.
"Will Corina be okay?" he asked. Chris shrugged.
"For now? Yeah, I think so. In the long run? No one knows."