A/N: Firstly, I want to thank everyone for all of the amazing feedback! This fic has been getting a lot of recognition, and I just want to thank all of you for taking the time out to read my stuff. I haven't been nearly as engaged with you as I'd like to be (in fact, I haven't been at all) and I do apologize for that. I'll admit, at first I was a bit intimidated because I hadn't written anything in so long and I felt kind of at a loss as to what to say to introduce myself, or in this case, reintroduce myself. But you guys have all been so kind and I want to thank you so so much for that. It means a lot, truly.
Currently, I have a lot of family issues going on, so I apologize in advance for not responding to you reviews, but know that I do read each and every one of them! I will continue to do my best to post weekly, but like I said, there's a lot going on and I'm starting to run out of backup chapters :( However, I have not given up on this fic, and I will continue to write whenever I can!
That being said, this chapter was especially difficult for me. I'm working really hard to keep the story interesting, while also staying true to the characters I've reimagined. After a lot of starting and stopping and deleting, I've finally found what I believe to be the best version of this chapter. Again, thank you all so much for all of your encouragement. I won't hold you any longer.
Enjoy!
"I know what you are."
It's hard to see him in the dark, but I can still make out his figure which is still impossibly motionless. I feel his eyes boring into me and I shift uncomfortably under his gaze.
When he doesn't say anything, I try to grab his attention. "Edward?"
He mutters something under his breath that I can't understand, but before I can ask him about it, he grabs my arm and pulls me down the hill.
My worn out soles slip and slide on the damp grass, causing me to stumble. Edward's grip keeps me from injuring myself further, but he refuses to slow down to a pace I can keep up with. "Edward, what are you doing?"
He says nothing, at least not anything I can hear and makes his way over the bridge.
Fed up with his abruptness, I snatch arm back, but I have a sneaking suspicion that freeing myself was more thanks to Edward letting go rather than my own strength. "Enough! Are we seriously not talking about this?"
Edward whips around to face me, his black eyes clearly distinct in the moonlight and nostrils flaring with anger. For the first time, I feel afraid. "Not here." He grips my shoulders and the force jostles me slightly, causing me to gasp. "Don't you get it? If you know the truth, then you should know it's dangerous here." He shifts his hands from my shoulders back down to my arm and we continue down the path, this time at a slower, human pace.
I don't say anything and let him drag me back to the abandoned playground. He finally stops just before the old swing set and practically throws me toward the sidewalk.
I stumble to catch my footing and turn to find him standing about a car length's distance from me. "What's wrong with you?"
"You need to go."
Throwing my hands into the air, I shake my head. "I can't believe you. You're blowing me off. Again!"
"Bella, please. You don't understand." He's not meeting my eyes. He's staring at something on the ground and for a moment I wish I could throw something at him.
"You're right!" I explode. "I don't understand! So, tell me. I deserve to know."
"Goddamn it, Bella!" Edward raises his head, eyes so black, I can't distinguish the irises from the pupils. "You need to leave. Now!"
"Why?"
The muscles in his jaw flex as he grinds his teeth together. "I'm barely hanging on."
I'm about to ask him what he means when I remember the stinging feeling in my knee. It's the blood. Of course, it's the blood.
"I'm sorry," I say, my anger dissipating. "I didn't mean to—"
"Just go," he interrupts.
I turn my back, only for a second to find the street. When I look back to ask him when I'll see him again, he's gone.
By the time I get home, it's raining again. It's light, but steady nonetheless. It's enough that my jacket is soaked and my socks are damp. I'll have to hide them in my room or Charlie will become suspicious.
I expertly climb the stairs without a sound and duck into the bathroom. In the medicine cabinet, I pull out a small bottle of peroxide and a package of band-aids. I'm annoyed with myself that I have to count to ten before I'm ready to even look at the abrasion, but there's no way in hell I was about to ask Charlie.
Pulling up my pant leg, I wince as some of the blood has dried onto the fabric. Separating them is like reopening the cut and I squeeze my eyes shut when I see a fresh flow of blood run down my leg.
With my knee this close to my face, I can smell it. In the back of my mind, I ask myself if it smells the same for Edward. Does he like the scent of salt and rust? Or is it something he must choke down in order to survive?
I wad up a handful of toilet paper and saturate it with the peroxide. Before I talk myself out of it, I dab at my kneecap.
"Ow, ow, ow!"
The alcohol burns, but it keeps me present. It keeps my mind from wandering back to the last time I had to smell the sour, rustic odor.
Satisfied with my cleanup job, I slap the band-aid on and head back to my bedroom.
I'm lying there on top of the sheets, staring at the ceiling. So many questions are running around in my head. When will I see Edward again? Was it my blood that made him emerge from those woods? I'd seen him interact with so many of us at school, like it was nothing. I never thought that one stupid scrape would be the thing to send him over the edge.
With a sigh, I close my eyes. I know sleep will evade me, but I try anyway. I match my breathing with Charlie's, easily syncing up with his snoring from down the hall.
I don't realize I'm about to fall asleep until I'm abruptly awakened by the shrill ringing of my phone.
Angrily, I snatch my phone from the nightstand and glare at the time. It's nearly one in the morning.
"What?" I answer, grumpily.
"Hey, uh, Bella?"
Sitting up, I clear my tone of irritation. "Ben? What's wrong?"
"Um…" He must have his car windows down because his voice falters behind the sound of the wind rustling in the car. "It's Angela."
I'm grabbing my pants and throwing them back on, ready to meet up with him. "What happened?"
"Nothing, Angela's fine, she just…"
Rolling my eyes, I rest my hand on my hip. "Just what, Ben? Spit it out, already."
He groans over the line. "She's drunk."
"What?"
"She's wasted, Bella, and she won't let me take her home! She keeps mumbling your name. Can you take her? My parents will kill me if—"
"You do realize my dad is the chief of police."
"He was the chief," he corrects.
"Fine, whatever. Bring her, but for the love of God, be subtle."
Ben sighs and I think I hear Angela singing Barry White. "Bella, you're the best. I'll be there soon."
A few minutes later, I spot headlights closing in from down the street and move to meet him out front.
I open the door, to find Ben carrying a very dazed Angela. She's giggling and mumbling incoherently about something even I can't understand.
"Can she walk?" I ask him.
"Doubt it," he answers.
As if on cue, she shouts, "I can walk!"
Ben and I shush her at the same time and she has the nerve to look offended.
"Was it something I said?"
Ben places her on the ground and I realize she's barefoot. He hands me her heels and I do my best to guide her without touching her.
My attempt doesn't get me very far once Angela makes the first step inside and immediately starts to tip over. I have no other choice, but to grab her and pull her into my side.
My vision suddenly doubles and sways back and forth as if I'm on a boat. I'd never actually stepped foot onto one, but I realize that if I did, I'd probably be seasick.
"Do you need help?" I hear Ben ask from behind me.
"I've got her," I say, but I'm not sure I sound very convinced. Still, Ben closes the door behind us and I recognize the sound of tires on the pavement as he drives away.
"B, I don't feel so good."
I take a deep breath and focus on getting us to the bedroom. "Yeah, I know."
Through double vision, I manage to find the staircase and grip firmly onto Angela as we take the first step. She must not be ready, because she stumbles backward and I double back to catch her.
"Work with me, Ang." I coach her back onto her feet and we try again. "Okay, left foot first."
"But I don't have a left foot," she whines.
Rolling my eyes, I see that I'm on my own and settle for dragging her. Turns out carrying one hundred twenty pounds of deadweight is actually a lot harder than it looks. But somehow, I manage to throw her onto my bed without hurting myself much.
"Damn, girl." I raise my arms above my head and stretch the aches in my back. "You so owe me for this."
Angela, face down in the comforter, says something that sounds like, "Te amo."
I unzip her dress and wiggle the fabric down her waist and hang it gently over the rocking chair that sits in the corner. The skirt is damp and mysteriously smells like vodka. "You are going to hate yourself in the morning."
Angela moans, tiredly and I can't help but chuckle under my breath. "B?"
I turn back toward the bed, closing the door as I go. "Yeah."
"My tetas are out."
I laugh and pull my comforter out from underneath her and cover her bare skin. "Nothing I haven't seen before, sunshine. Get some rest."
She moans again, and I leave her to sleep.
At least this will keep me busy, I think to myself. I won't have time to think about Edward as long as I stay focused on Angela. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise.
I manage to squeeze myself into the tiny space Angela's left for me and use the comforter as a wall between us to keep our skin from touching. She doesn't seem to notice. If it weren't for her snoring, I'd say she's dead. That and also I can hear her dreaming.
I didn't sleep at all that night. Angela had kept me up with her drunken shenanigans, cuddling me and kissing me (she thought I was Ben) and scaring me half to death with strange belching sounds that sound almost identical to vomiting. I made sure to keep her head turned to the side in case she decided to surprise me.
Charlie wakes up at six in the morning and I spend the whole hour it takes him to get ready chewing the cuticles off of my fingers, praying he doesn't walk in to find Angela in my room. She's still slurring her words in her sleep and her dress smells like a bar.
To my relief, Charlie stays focused on finding his fishing gear instead of saying goodbye. He knows I have a terrible time sleeping anyway and doesn't want to bother me. If he only knew.
Soon after he leaves, the sun breaks through the clouds and shines through the window. I hear Angela groan and I quickly stand to close the curtains. Her thoughts aren't clear enough for me to know how much exactly she drank, but I'm hoping that she can sleep it off. If she doesn't have her act together by this afternoon when Charlie plans to return, we're screwed.
Around eight, Angela begins to stir. I recognize the rumbling sounds of her stomach and jump up to grab the trash can that sits by my door.
I'm not fast enough though, and slide out of the way when I see Angela hop onto her feet and sprint to the bathroom.
I go to follow her, but decide at the last second maybe it's better to keep my distance. If I touch her now, there's no telling what the effect will be. Maybe there's something I can use so I don't have to directly make contact with her.
Running down the steps, I grab the pair of rubber gloves Charlie likes to use when he washes dishes. It's a bit ridiculous, but when I crouch behind Angela to brush her hair back, I find that I'm not nauseous. I call that a success.
"Bella…"
I shush her and begin to detangle the curls she put in her hair the night before that are now knotted from her tossing and turning. "You're alright, Ang."
She retches again and I do my best not to cringe. I continue to brush out her hair and then pull it back into a braid. It's difficult and comes out a bit messy with the gloves on, but it gets the job done.
"I feel like ass," she moans, her voice echoing slightly in the toilet bowl.
"Yeah, I bet." I rub my hand up and down her bare back and pat slightly when she coughs. "What did you drink last night?"
She groans again when I bring it up. "Oh, please, Bella. Don't talk about drinking right now."
Chuckling to myself, I continue to rub her back. "You almost done?"
She shakes her head and I stay with her while she empties her stomach.
After a minute or so, she asks, "Why am I naked?"
"I took off your dress," I explain. "I didn't want you barfing all over it."
She hums her acknowledgment. Then she says, "Your hands smell like rubber bands."
I proudly show her my latest discovery. "It helps with touch. I can't feel anything."
"Lucky you," she mumbles tiredly.
I should take her back to my place while my parents are gone. She can sober up there. Bella was right, what was I thinking? Taking her to the chief's home.
"I'm going to let Ben in," I whisper to her.
Her head lifts slightly, but her eyes are still closed. "Benny's here?"
Smiling, I say, "Yes. He just pulled in. I'll be right back, okay?"
She nods and I stand from my spot on the floor, limping slightly when the cut on my knee twinges with the motion.
Ripping off my gloves, I open the front door just as Ben lifts his hand to ring the bell. "Hey, she's upstairs."
"How did you know I was…? Never mind." Sighing, he pulls me into an unexpected hug and I flinch when I see the memories of the night before. Flashing lights, bass thumping in my chest, sweat sticking to the back of my neck. "Thanks, Bella. I owe you one."
As politely as I can, I push him away and offer my best reassuring smile. "No worries. I'm just glad Charlie didn't catch us. Here, you can bring some Gatorade up to her."
"Got some ibuprofen too?"
I toss him the drink from the fridge and he catches it with ease. "Probably in the medicine cabinet."
I follow him up the stairs and roll my eyes when I hear Angela whining in the bathroom.
"No!" I see her trying to clumsily close the door from where she sits crouched over the toilet. "I'm not dressed!"
"He's already seen you naked," I remind her while Ben laughs from next to me.
"But I was cute then," she argues.
Ben pushes the door open and steps inside, snagging the Advil on his way. "You're always cute." He takes the spot behind her and offers her the sports drink. "Drink up."
Leaning against the doorway, I gently tap Ben's shoulder. "Can you take over from here? I'm going to get some food ready for her."
"That'd be great, Bella." He kisses her shoulder blade and I try not to feel like I'm intruding. "Thank you."
While Ben coaches her into the shower, I start frying some eggs and bacon. I make enough for the three of us and place everything on the table as they descend the stairs.
"How are you feeling?" I ask her as she sits in the chair next to Ben.
"Starving." She takes a big bite of toast and Ben and I share a look of relief.
"Good," I say as I sit next to her. "I'm glad your appetite is back."
We don't talk much, since Angela is usually the one to keep the conversation going between Ben and me. Since she's currently stuffing her face, there's nothing to do but eat and keep a watchful eye on her.
When we finish, Ben decides to take Angela back to his place to rest. I happily let him take the responsibility as the lack of sleep begins to catch up with me.
Bleary eyed, I plop myself onto the couch as I listen to Ben's tires backing out of the driveway. I swear I'd only closed my eyes for a minute when I heard a light tapping on the door.
Standing up, I balk when I see the bright sun is now covered by the storm clouds passing by, casting shadows all over the living room. How long had I slept?
The knocking sounds again and I hurry to answer it. If I tell you I was expecting Edward Cullen to be behind the door, I'd be lying.
He stands there perfectly still, eyes bright gold and his lips opening and shutting as he struggles with finding the right words.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, relieving him of speaking first.
Edward sighs and pulls at the tips of his hair so hard I see his knuckles go white. "I'd like to talk, if you don't mind. Maybe somewhere a bit more private."
"Nobody's home," I say and offer him to come inside. He doesn't move, but keeps his eyes on me. "What?"
"Come with me. I want to show you something."
Crossing my arms, I shuffle my feet, wondering if the change of his eye color has something to do with the fact that I'm no longer bleeding. "Are you feeling...better?"
A somber expression falls on his face. "Yes."
I pull out my phone and send a text to Charlie. "Let me tell my dad I'm leaving and then we can go."
He nods and waits patiently while I type out my message. When I'm finished, I follow him to the silver Volvo that's parked in the driveway.
Edward opens the passenger door for me and I thank him as I sit. The interior is exactly as I remember it. Dark gray leather, aux cord dangling lazily beside the console and the scent of lilac and honey.
"Where are we going?" I ask when he starts driving. When he doesn't answer, I roll my eyes and snap, "Well, if you're not going to talk, can you at least put some music on?"
"I'm trying, Bella." Edward glances at me longingly and I fight an irritated sigh. "Please be patient with me."
"It's just a push of a button." I had intentions of being funny, but it came out sounding petty. When Edward sends me an irritated glare, I add, "You can scrap the whole 'patience is a virtue' thing. I've shown you plenty, and quite frankly, I'm all out of it. You've run my dry."
"I've never done this before," he says after a moment. "Just...please. Give me time."
I'm annoyed that I understand where he's coming from. My curiosity and lack of sleep make me want to be frustrated with his poor communication skills, but unfortunately, I know all too well about the tension that comes with opening up to people. "I understand," I say quietly. "I'm sorry."
"Stop saying you're sorry," he replies curtly. "There's nothing you need to apologize for."
Looking over at him, I immediately recognize his dismal expression. "Neither do you."
Laughing humorlessly, Edward says, "You haven't even heard what I have to say."
"I don't need to." I keep my eyes on him even though he averts his gaze and pretends he needs to focus on the road. "Whatever you tell me won't change the way I see you."
"You have no idea what you're saying, Bella."
"Yes, I do!" So many things I want to say to him, scream at him even, build up on the tip of my tongue, but I hold back. He's not budging on the subject and it's clear that he's not comfortable with having this conversation here in the first place.
When Edward passes the school off the highway, I ask, "Seriously, Edward. Where are we going? The freeway ends soon."
I wasn't expecting him to respond, seeing as he only answers about fifty percent of my questions when I ask them, but I'm pleasantly surprised when he speaks. "There's a hiking trail just off of the main road. I want you to see something."
I look down hesitantly at my dirty leggings from the night before and beat-up sneakers. "I'm not sure I'm dressed appropriately for hiking."
Edward chuckles and I turn to glare at him. When he catches my gaze, he only laughs harder. Something about the sound is contagious and just as I'm about to call him out on his shit, I find myself smiling.
"What is so funny?" I'm doing my best to look intimidating, but I'm sure my giggles and teetering smile aren't exactly getting the point across.
"I'm sure we'll figure something out," he responds after he regains his composure.
Eventually the freeway starts to turn into a dirt road and Edward pulls over to park.
"This is it?" I ask.
"Yes." Edward exits the car and I bend down to tighten my shoe laces. A second later, he's already on the other side, opening the door for me. I want to ask about how he did that, but decide against it. I already know about his dietary needs, why not add super speed to the list? "You don't have to walk if you're not up for it."
Rolling my eyes, I step out of the car and brush past him. "I have Charlie to treat me like an invalid. I don't need you to do it, too."
Edward matches my pace as we start up the trail. "I only asked because you mentioned your attire."
"I'll manage."
"Are you feeling alright, Bella?" He gently grabs my hand, and makes me stop to face him. "You look like you haven't slept."
At the thought of sleep, I yawn. "Not much."
"Is that why you're so cranky?"
I'm about to lash out at him when I realize he's teasing. "Don't test your luck, Cullen."
Edward continues to make light conversation as we walk, which I'm grateful for. Anything to keep me distracted from my already-aching feet.
We go at it for the better part of an hour before I begin to tucker out. My legs feel wobbly and the adhesive of the band-aid on my knee slipping, but I purposefully ignore it. I don't want to draw Edward's attention to it, but it seems my effort is futile when he asks me about it.
"Is your leg bothering you?"
"It's fine," I say immediately.
"Are you lying?"
"No, Edward." I sigh, which is hard since I'm already panting. "I'm not lying."
"Then why are you limping?" I expect him to look smug, but when my eyes land on him, I find only concern written on his face. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm okay, really," I assure him. "I'm just exhausted. Are we almost there?"
He points to something in the distance. "Do you see that clearing up ahead?"
"Um...no? Should I?"
He looks at me and then back to the spot ahead. "Hm. Maybe not."
"Okay, let's just keep going."
"Hold on," he interrupts. Edward crouches slightly in front of me. "Hop on."
"Seriously?"
He stands to face me. "We'll get there faster this way. Trust me."
"Trust you?" I mean to sound like I'm kidding, but Edward seems to take it to heart. I see the emotions behind his eyes and motion for him to turn around before he gets his panties in a twist. "I was just messing with you, Edward. You need to learn to take a jo—"
Before I can finish my sentence, Edward's taken off. I can't exactly make sense of what I'm seeing right away. The trees are passing by the same way they do when you're in a car on the highway. Everything in my peripheral vision is blurred and within seconds I can see the clearing that Edward was talking about earlier.
I hardly feel his footsteps beneath me. I almost wonder if he's flying until I look down and see his feet moving. It's a mistake as I realize everything on the ground is moving faster than everything else. My stomach begins to turn and I grip onto his shoulders tighter to keep from vomiting all over him.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I tuck my head into his neck and pray that we're done soon. I'm so nauseous, I can't even think about how many questions I have about how he's able to do this in the first place.
Edward comes to a sudden stop and I groan quietly as a wave of dizziness comes over me. He seems to sense my discomfort and gently places me onto the grass.
"Bella, are you alright?"
I nod, placing my head between my knees. "I just need a minute."
Edward sits next to me and rubs my back while I gain my stability. "Let it run its course."
A moment later, I lift my head up. I'm still a bit nauseated, but the world has stopped tilting. Now that I'm feeling better, I take in my surroundings. We're sitting in a small field, perfectly round with wildflowers still sprouting everywhere. Violet, yellow, blue and soft white. The trees here were still mostly green despite the autumn weather. I didn't look forward to when the cold weather took away all the life from this place.
"Where are we?" I ask, my ears perking up when I hear the subtle bubbling sounds of a stream nearby.
"I come here fairly often," Edward tells me. "I found this meadow by accident. I stumbled upon it, looking for a place to reflect."
"It's really pretty." My eyes roam up toward the sky and my brow furrows at the dark angry clouds above. "Is it going to rain?"
"No, it will pass." Edward removes his hand from my back and he focuses on something in the distance. I recognize his expression as one of concentration as he presumably gathers his thoughts. "I'm sorry about last night. What were you doing out there by yourself? Do you have any idea how reckless you were?"
I sit up a bit straighter and nervously play with the hangnail that's forming on my thumb. I know he suspects I have other abilities, but I'd never actually opened up to him about them. Do I tell him about my dream? About how my mind travels without my body? "I was looking for something."
"For what?" he asks.
I sigh, a sudden wave of impatience washing over me. God only knows when Edward is going to shut down again and with our limited time he wants to ask questions about me. What about him? Everything I know I've learned from someone else. When will he be honest with me? When will I?
It starts with me, I realize. I have to open up. "About two weeks ago, I saw something. While I was sleeping."
"In a dream?"
"No." I roll my eyes at myself, trying desperately and failing at finding the right words. "Not a dream. Sometimes, when my body falls asleep, my mind wanders. I see things that happen in real life. Kind of similar to an out-of-body experience, I guess."
Edward leans forward, intrigued by what I'm saying. "You mean like astral projecting?"
I shrug. "Sure?"
"That's normal," he offers as if to console me. "I've encountered others who can do it as well, though I've never experienced it myself."
"I saw you just off the trail," I go on. "I remembered you telling me your father takes you hiking and I wanted to see if I could find the spot. I wasn't sure at the time if what I saw was a dream or if it'd really happened."
Edward seems to find the meaning in my words and stills. He's completely frozen and I wait patiently for him to say something. I count to one hundred before he opens his mouth. "What did you see?"
"You." I contemplate my words carefully. "With a deer."
He stands suddenly, balling his fists by his side and I watch anxiously as he paces. "Damnit, Bella. What is wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me?" I rise from my spot and stand directly into the line he's imprinted in the grass with his footsteps. "What's wrong with you? You can't be upset with me, I didn't do anything wrong!"
"You're doing everything wrong!" he shouts. "Any normal person would be terrified by now. Any normal person would run away, but instead you actively seek me out. Why?"
"I think we've already established that I'm not normal," I began. "I wish you'd cut the crap already. I know all about your big secret and if I'm being honest, I've known for a little while now. I'm not afraid of you."
Edward stops directly in front of me, his face only inches from mine. "You should be."
"The same way everyone should be afraid of me too, right?" I challenge.
"You don't kill people, Bella."
"Neither do you! So stop making yourself out to be this monster." He turns his back to me, but I grab his sleeve before he can go anywhere. "For the love of God, stop doing that!"
"What?" he responds, dejectedly.
I run my hand through my hair and force air into my lungs and then out. My heart is hammering with frustration and I'm working hard to keep my cool. "I'm not the one who started this."
"Started what?"
"This!" I gesture between the two of us. "Us! Whatever! You were the one who said hello, you were the one who sat at my lunch table. You were the one who wanted to be friends!"
Confusion written all over his face, he asks, "What are you saying? You don't want to be friends?"
"Not when you act like this." I take another breath. "Friendship is a two-way street. You've seen what I can do, even if I haven't admitted it to you yet." I wait for him to respond, but he continues to stare at me with his head cocked slightly to the side and eyes boring into mine. "Tyler's van?"
"What did you do?"
Exasperated, I drop my hands to my sides. "You know what I did."
"You said you haven't admitted it," he says. "So, do it now. Tell me what you did."
My eyes drop down to our feet, suddenly unable to look at him any longer.
"Say it, Bella."
The words come out in a whisper. "I stopped it."
I wait for him to do something. Anything. But he is totally quiet. I still can't make myself look away from the ground and feel the anxiety fluttering in my belly as I wait for him to speak. I've gnawed off the whole top layer of my lip before I'm able to look up. Edward is standing exactly where I left him, inches from my face. "I stopped the van."
He nods. "I know."
"Your turn," I say. "Admit it."
Without faltering, the words come out. "I'm a vampire."
