SM owns Twilight.

(CozItRunsInMyBlood /Rose B. Mashal) owns the plot.

(BandMum) is the wonderful beta.

Chapter 10 Part 2

The next day started at 4:45 AM and I decided not to try to go back to sleep. Two nightmares were enough for one night.

The worst thing about my nightmares were the feelings that lingered after I was awake. One of these nightmares was new. I dreamed Dr. Cullen's flight crashed, and he didn't survive. I woke up wailing like an infant, and the gripping in my chest lasted while I showered and dressed. Maybe a little after that.

In one corner of the lab, Dr. Cullen had a fridge where he kept some of his medical items, injections and materials he needed for his experiences. I kept some food there, as well.

He offered to get a small fridge for my room, but I told him not to. It wasn't necessary since there was already one in the lab. He thought I would be upset by the things in there, but he was wrong. I've seen worse things, to let some syringes and blood bags bother me.

I quietly took out the milk and brought it back to my room. I made a bowl of cereal for breakfast, careful not to make any noise that would disturb Smokey's sleep.

When I finished eating, I took my medications. That was the only reason I ate anything since I had no appetite. The painkillers were so strong that they gave me a stomachache if I didn't eat first.

After the meds kicked in, I put on my winter jacket and took a walk around the garden, which I had come to like very much. The weather was cold, but extremely refreshing, and I needed that.

My nightmare was still worrying me as I sat on one of the benches and fidgeted with my cellphone. I wondered if I could call Dr. Cullen to see if he was okay. He said I could call him whenever, but I didn't want to bother him, especially when I only wanted to ask if he landed safely. He had more important stuff to do than reply to my silly questions.

Eventually, I pocketed my phone and decided to go back inside. It was getting colder by the minute and the last thing I wanted was to get sick again. I already had enough of that.

When I returned to the lab, Smokey was awake. He made some happy noises when he saw me approaching. Getting closer, I realized that he was eating his breakfast and I chuckled. Surely, he liked his food more than he liked me.

"Good morning, buddy!" I smiled, "What do you have there?"

Smokey stopped eating and gazed at his basket of fruit for a moment. He looked at me, then at his food and offered me an apple.

"Aww! So sweet of you, but I already ate." I told him, and he continued eating. He was too cute for words. "Wait, where did you get it from?" I asked, frowning in confusion.

Smokey didn't respond, not that I expected an answer, but I realized he was very intelligent, and we frequently communicated well. He always made an effort to 'reply' to my questions one way or another.

I looked around his cage to see if Dr. Cullen left a supply of food, but I didn't find any. I wondered how Smokey was going to eat for the next days since only Dr. Cullen fed him and had asked me not to. But I didn't say anything about it as I was aware it wouldn't go unnoticed by him, and I was always careful about bothering him with many questions.

Finally, I noticed the security camera in one corner of the cage, and I realized the assistant must have brought Smokey's breakfast. I didn't know how to feel about that. I knew he was somewhere in the house, but I didn't expect he would come to the lab while Dr. Cullen was away.

What if he wasn't a good guy like Dr. Cullen said he was? What if he hurt me while I stayed here, alone, and helpless? Anxious thoughts started to invade my mind.

I shook my head in an attempt to shrug them away. The assistant couldn't be a bad guy. He was in my room yesterday. He was so quiet that I didn't even feel his presence, and I am a light sleeper. He could have hurt me then if he wanted to, but he didn't – he gave me roses.

Taking a deep breath, I returned to my glass-room. I decided to look at my painting supplies to see if I can start on something. Maybe it would take my mind off of my anxious thoughts and horrible memories.

~WtSGD~

By the end of the day, I hadn't drawn anything, but I organized the supplies and intended to try tomorrow. I didn't have a specific idea in mind, but I knew it would feel good to handle the brushes and mix the colors. I had dreamed of doing just that for so long.

My stomach growled and I decided to have another bowl of cereal, my third today. Just as I was about to pour the milk, my phone went off.

I put it down on the counter and ran back to my room to get the call. Since only Dr. Cullen had my number, I knew it must be him calling to make sure everything was going all right.

I smiled when his name flashed on my screen. "Hello!"

"Bella! How are you doing, dear?"

Hearing his voice made me smile in relief.

"I'm doing fine, sir. I took my medication and was about to have dinner to take the night dose." I told him.

"Yes, you had cereal for breakfast and lunch, and now you want to have cereal for dinner?"

My eyebrows shot up to my hairline and my eyes widened. "Er …"

"Bella, you promised to take care of yourself and eat well."

"Cereal is fine, sir. I haven't broken my promise," I said quickly, afraid I had angered him.

"Cereal is not real food, dear. I told you to order something or go out to eat."

"I don't really want to go out," I said honestly.

"That's fine. Tell me what you would like to have for dinner."

"You don't have to worry about that, sir. I'm sure you're busy with work."

"Exactly. Please, don't do it again. Now, what would you like to eat?"

"Anything is fine, really," I said and he sighed.

"All right then, dear. I'll have Edward order you something."

"Thank you, sir." My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he ended the call.

Edward? The E. from E. M.? His assistant?

I looked up at one of the cameras and imagined him sitting behind the screen, carefully monitoring everything I did and taking notes. My stare was long and intense, then I spit out, "Snitch!" before going to put the milk back in the fridge.

About twenty minutes later, Dr. Cullen texted that my food was right outside the lab. That was odd. If the assistant got it from the delivery man by the gates – since Dr. Cullen didn't like strangers on his property – why he didn't give it to me himself? Why was he hiding? Was he afraid I'd try to talk to him? Did he think I wasn't worthy of a "hello"? Considering we lived in the same house, I'd like to know what he looked like. I wasn't sure what to think.

After I collected the brown paper bag, I closed the door and locked it. I was the only one who used that door, anyway. Dr. Cullen always came in from one on the other side of the lab, probably a private door into the house.

Setting the bag on the table, I was surprised to find a note on it written in the same neat handwriting from the diary.

'Sorry. Snitch is not sorry.'

My mouth fell open for a moment before I broke into a fit of giggles, embarrassed to realize he heard me. The smile didn't leave my face the whole time I was eating. I wasn't sure when I felt so… light. Maybe never, and all due to a simple line from a complete stranger.

When I finished my baked chicken and potato salad, I cleared the table and cleaned it. Then I put everything back where it was; the vase, the diary, and the elegant pen.

I read the line in the diary for the fifth time that day, then closed it. I touched the rose petals, then bent down and sniffed; they still smelled so good. I reread the note that came with my dinner before tucking it into the diary.

Looking up at one of the cameras, I hoped he heard me clearly this time.

"Thank you." It was the least I could do. He reported my poor eating habits to Dr. Cullen for my benefit. He gave me roses and made me smile more than once today.

My eighteenth birthday was the best one I had since I left Forks as a child. At least this one wasn't out in the cold streets, or trapped in my stepfather's basement with a broken bone or black eye.

Before bed, I brushed my teeth, then went to the closet for pajamas. My brow creased as I heard thumps coming from upstairs.

Footsteps. I was hearing footsteps. Someone was running inside the house. More than one someone.

What the heck?

~WtSGD~

Author Note:

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