"There's no end, there is no goodbye."
-"Wait" by M83
The only thing that could be deduced from the crime scene was that the fire had started in Bella's bedroom.
(before)
The first bloodsucker she killed was a newborn in Phoenix.
There were plenty of them in the South but this one in particular had been tricky to track. It had them looping and doubling back all around the state before they finally cornered it in an abandoned warehouse.
The trap had been set perfectly.
Drops of her blood leading to an ankle trap that would usually be about as effective as a cage made of toothpicks if it hadn't been laced with hunter blood already.
It was like moths to a flame. They knew it would kill them. They could not resist it anyway.
The bloodsucker spat and hissed at their feet. Charlie, broken arm cradled against his chest and pissed beyond all hell, spat back.
He couldn't hold the crossbow.
"You're gonna kill it, Bells."
The monster's skin was bone-white, with sharp cheekbones and dark brown hair that framed an angelic face.
It was young— a newborn. It must have been only 14 at the most, when it died.
It was hard to notice its beauty and hear the demonic snarls ripping from its chest at the same time. They were two sharply contrasting images and she had difficulty balancing them both— her awe and her terror.
Its jaw kept snapping towards her face, delirious with thirst, even in the face of death.
She was skinny and short for her age— 13 years old and graceless about it. She could not help but feel pity for whoever the monster was before.
She swallowed hard— and raised her crossbow. She hoped feverishly that her hands would not shake.
This is what she was born to do, after all. Protect her family, protect the humans, protect those who could not protect themselves.
There was no room for pitying monsters.
"YOU'LL BE HEARING FROM OUR ATTORNEY, YOU SON OF A BITCH—"
The yelling cuts off abruptly with the sound of a slamming door. Bella groans as the pounding in her head gets worse.
Bella distinctly remembers the voice. Mrs. Crowley was at the funeral, dripping with over-dramatic tears and condolences. Bella had to hide in the bathroom to avoid her. She's surprised she can even remember; she was nearly catatonic at the time.
She opens her eyes and immediately shuts them tight, the fluorescent lights stinging her eyes.
Shit. Concussion. Maybe even stitches. Definitely a mess of bruises on her face.
That's not even considering the mess she's made of her already tainted reputation. Maybe she should just drop out.
Also, she must have been brought here when she was unconscious. How embarrassing.
"Bella, we need to talk."
Shit.
She opens her eyes and blinks away the spots to see Mr. Varner, Nurse Jackie, and Principal Green all there, staring at her with crossed arms and varying degrees of disapproval. They are standing right next to— shit—
Police Chief Burke.
She is going to murder Tyler Crowley.
"We'll keep this quick, since you need to get your head looked at. Nurse says you're stable for now but you're still a minor and a student. We're liable for all kinds of shit if you keel over in the next five minutes so answer me plainly and we'll let you go and get treated."
"Actually, Chief Burke, I have to get back to—"
"Sit. Down."
She sighs. And sits.
The Chief leans forward in his seat.
"Bella… what the hell was that?"
She readjusts her ice pack over her eye. Chief Burke purses his lips when it's clear he's not going to get an answer and settles himself back on the principal's chair. She can tell— he's beyond angry. His face is an alarming shade of purple and there's a tiny vein pulsing in his forehead. She squirms in her seat.
"Okay. So. Let's start with the basics. You're not in handcuffs so you're obviously not arrested but I can't promise Tyler's parents won't sue you for assault."
She tries not to look so guilty. From Chief Burke's expression, she fails magnificently.
"I'll go down there before the day is out and try to reason with them," he continues, wearily rubbing his face. "There might be a chance Mrs. Crowley will drop all charges if I threaten to charge her son with harassment and vandalizing school property. You'll have to be suspended for a week or two, but I'm hoping we can avoid the mess of criminal charges."
Huh. She'd forgotten to care about the possibly of suspension. Or jail. Still, she can't manage to dredge up any sense of relief. It's like the events of this morning are reaching her through a haze of static.
"Isn't that blackmail, Chief Burke?"
"Would you like to file an official complaint?"
There's a tense stare off for a moment before Bella folds and sags in her chair. Chief Burke seems to realize he's not getting a fight and he sags as well, anger dissolving to grim resignation.
He looks older since last year.
"Bella… You cannot go around assaulting every dickhead that goes around saying stupid shit. There's gonna be plenty of those people, believe me. You do not need to go around adding fuel to the fire. Did you ever stop to consider your own future? What if I did arrest you? What would happen then? You could say goodbye to college, to getting a decent job. Not to mention Tyler Crowley is up at the goddamn hospital breathing through a tube!"
Bella looks down, shamefaced.
"No. No, you didn't consider any of that."
He falls silent, the sound of the clock ticking earsplitting in the tiny office.
"I'm sorry," she says in a quiet voice.
She looks up and her guilt flares higher. Chief Burke has his head in his hands.
"Chief?"
He doesn't move for a moment and Bella feels a lurch of panic. She's not exactly a great consoler. But the Chief finally looks up at her and sighs, his eyes red-rimmed with exhaustion.
"It's been a long day, Bella. I'm sure you'll agree. And I'm sorry for blowing up at you. But I'm concerned."
"I'm fine," she says quickly.
Chief Burke gives her face a once over and she moves her icepack to hide where she imagines she looks the worst. She has yet to look in a mirror.
"It was just… a lot. What he did."
Chief Burke lips thin, anger coloring his face once again.
"What he said was very wrong, Bella. But I don't care about him. I care about you. And at the end of the day, you're gonna be the one facing the consequences of your actions."
Bella bites the inside of her lip. It's hard to feel properly chastised when everything still feels so staticky. She feels her head give another nauseating lurch and the sight of Chief Burke sitting across from her blurs. She tries to hide it. Because like hell does she need to be going to Forks County Hospital.
"Have you given any thought to the programs I left for you?"
Bella squirms. Programs referring to "support homes." She knows what that means.
"It… doesn't really seem like it's for me."
"And your sessions with the school counselor? How has that been going?"
She resists the urge to roll her eyes.
Dr. Tabitha (she insisted on being called by her first name) was the sort of person who Bella would rank on the very bottom of the list of people she would want to interact with, much less confide in. Bella's still not sure if she's an actual doctor or if they just call her that because the high school couldn't cash out for a real one. She spends the grand majority of her sessions staring at the diploma hanging on the wall, trying to figure out if it's something she just printed off the internet.
Dr. Tabitha is an eccentric, even for Forks. She is in love with Bella because she's messed up enough to need weekly sessions, where she likes to try out new-agey therapy, a lot of it involving essential oils and sage. She means well, but unfortunately for Bella, good intentions are about as helpful as a state hospital would be.
It's not like she can actually talk about her problems. Not with Dr. Tabitha, not with anyone.
The truth would get her medicated in a white-padded room, drooling into a cup.
"She's… fine. She's been having me keep a journal."
"Oh. That's good. Very good. And is it helping?"
Bella tries not to fidget. The furthest she's gotten is writing her name on the inside cover. She hasn't had to worry about getting caught since Dr. Tabitha promised she wouldn't read it.
"I guess."
"Good."
An awkward silence falls and Bella shifts in her chair. The Chief clears his throat. She always wonders if she brings out stilted silence in people, since she never really learned how to keep a conversation going.
Renee always said she got it from Charlie.
She blinks the sudden tears away.
Don't think about that.
"Are you coming to the wake tonight?"
The wake. She had successfully put it out of her mind since this morning. Her entire body goes cold.
"The whole town will be there. And people would love to see you… show their support…" He trails off.
She shudders.
He gives her a sad smile.
"If you change your mind, you're always welcome to come around. I know you may not always feel that here, with them fool rumors, but it's true. You got a whole lotta people behind you, Bells."
The nickname unsettles her like nothing else.
"I'll think about it," she lies.
"You have any other plans for today?"
His voice is gentle and cloying with sympathy. It makes her palms itch.
She wants to say she doesn't really see the point of doing anything today. Today is no different from yesterday, nor will it be different tomorrow, or any other day for the rest of her sad life. Her family will remain dead, whether she goes to the wake or if she spends the rest of her life pretending nothing happened at all.
But she doesn't say any of that. She stares at the carpeted floor, grinding her teeth and trying to force down the lump in her throat.
When she finally gets the courage to look up again, she is surprised to see his face drawn with guilt.
"I am trying to find him, Bella."
She flinches.
She knows where this is going, and this is not a conversation she was hoping to have when she dragged herself out of bed this morning. This is not a conversation she was hoping to have ever. She swallows down the rising panic— she hasn't prepared for this yet.
"It's been one year now and… I know I've let you down. He should be caught by now, paying his due. But I…."
She feels her face flush, horrified, as she hears the crack in his voice.
He clears his throat and starts again.
"I'll get the son-of-a-bitch. I promise you that."
He sniffs once, then goes silent, his eyes on the floor.
She stares at him.
His skin is sagging a little underneath his eyes. He smells distinctly of cigarettes and whiskey and she knows the second he goes back to the station, he'll reach for the small flask in the bottom drawer where her dad used to keep his lunch bag back when that was his desk. Back when that was his office.
Chief Burke is still looking for an arsonist who doesn't exist.
He's still trying to find the imaginary madman responsible for the deaths of her entire family. But after a year of searching, he's still no closer to solving the case than he was the first day after it happened.
No leads. No evidence. No nothing.
She can't even tell him how useless it is. She knows exactly the thing it was that killed her family.
And vampires don't leave evidence.
(before)
They only look like people, Charlie liked to say.
They're long dead. They're dead the moment the venom enters their bodies. She knew this.
But when she drew back her arrow, she also saw fear in those blood-red eyes.
She realizes that Chief Burke looks like he's aged a million years since she's seen him last. She realizes that he will look for her family's killer until his dying breath. It's haunting him, and he will never find the answers.
And that? That is one hundred percent on her.
"I know you'll find him." She hears her automatic response come out of her mouth in a flat monotone.
She is the biggest piece of shit.
"I just want you to get some closure over all this and… you know that you can come and see me if you need anything, right?" His voice is earnest and slightly desperate. "Anything at all, you come on down to the station. We miss seeing you over there."
She forces herself to smile. It pulls at all the wrong muscles in her face.
"Thank you. For… everything."
Chief Burke gives her his trademark watery smile as he opens his mouth and subsequently destroys any notion of her getting away with a trip to the hospital.
"You're made of tough shit, kid. You'll be alright. You go and get that head looked at now. I called ahead to the hospital and Dr. Cullen is already expecting you. Nurse Jackie can give you a ride. The last thing that we need is some kind of spectacle."
The hospital. She has to go to the hospital.
She steps out of the office, once again fighting down the rising panic and she is so distracted that she doesn't notice who else is in the reception area until the hairs on the back of her neck stand without warning.
Her eyes shoot up straight across the room and it's the absolute last thing she needs to see right now.
Edward Cullen is standing with his back to her, shuffling some papers mindlessly in his hands as he waits for the receptionist to get off the phone.
"Are you ready, dear?"
Nurse Jackie's kind voice, saturated with pity, rings out through the reception area. She steps out of her office, her keys already in hand.
The sound of her voice causes Edward to turn around.
His face is carefully blank as he looks at the nurse, then he turns his head to look over at her.
He frowns very slightly as his eyes rake over her face— back and forth— which is sure to be one giant bruise.
Like before, with Tyler, she can't tell what expression is on her face. It's hard to notice things like that when she is choking with pure rage.
But through whatever look he sees on her face, he stiffens. The entire line of his body goes impossibly still.
His eyes— black— narrow.
He doesn't look away from her face. Doesn't even blink.
She ignores her hunter's instinct that is screaming at her never to turn her back on one of them. She turns away from his stony face, stalking out of the door into the freezing sleet.
There have been too many reminders today already.
(before)
The strange metallic shredding sound only lasted a split second, but she still flinched when the arrow found its mark through one of the newborn's garnet eyes.
Aim for the head— even amateur hunters knew this too. Their precious minds were more vulnerable than their dead, un-beating hearts. The second that hunter venom hits the vampire brain, it's all over.
The newborn leech fell to the floor with a heavy thud. Her first kill.
Vampires are dangerous, vampires are uncontrollable, vampires are savages. She knows this like she knows her own name.
But when she saw the newborn's shattered face, she couldn't help but cry.
"Did you need something, Mr. Cullen?"
The receptionist's voice pulls him out of his trace, staring at the door that just closed behind Bella Swan. His mind cannot move past the last ten seconds.
He looks down at the various colorful school flyers he came to collect in his hands. His flimsy excuse.
He drops them back down on the desk and they scatter in a dizzying array.
"No, thank you, Mrs. Cope," he hears himself say. "I'm just looking."
Go find out what's happening, Jasper had told him before he left.
We need to know everything that's going on.
So Edward had dutifully went to the office and spied on the police chief and consequently, on Bella Swan.
Then she walked out with blood on her face.
Her scent.
Every other human in that maddeningly cramped office smelled overwhelmingly warm and distinct. He could smell the tang of stress and whiskey that ran through Chief Burke's blood. He could smell the cheap perfume on Ms. Cope. Even the nurse, who smelled strongly of antiseptic sanitizer, set his throat burning.
So why did Bella Swan come across so strangely muted to his senses? It had been strange before. But now— it is a screaming sign of proof to what he knows is true.
She had open cuts on her face and he could not smell the blood.
He drives, speeding through the pouring rain.
He thinks he might be going insane with the sudden influx of information in his brain— it flashes in dizzying speed one after another.
The frenzy in the trig room— the crack of Tyler's nose— the unbelievable strength it took to pull Bella off of him— the force with which Bella fell against the desk— Bella speaking reluctantly to Chief Burke as Edward watched raptly through his thoughts— Bella flinching when he mentioned looking for the mystery murderer….
He replays the total lack of emotion on Bella's face as Chief Burke promised her that he would find the nonexistent arsonist. Not a lack of emotion like Bella didn't believe what the chief was saying, but a lack of emotion that told him that she was hiding something from the Chief, that she knew more than she wanted to show…
He steps harder on the gas.
If they would have passed each other on a crowded street as strangers, he would have smelled the faint whisper of human blood that classified her as human and he would have passed her without a second thought.
But Bella Swan was not a stranger. He was around her every day.
And every time he tried to read her thoughts or track her scent, he would reach some kind of impassable bubble that shielded her from his most acute senses.
Her scent was too faint, too indistinguishable. Too…
Too deliberate.
The revelation comes before he reaches Forks County Hospital. He careens the car into an impossible space by the curve.
He forgot the most obvious detail. The most damning tell.
Her immediate hatred of him.
Before he even spoke a word to her.
The rain pours over his windshield like a breaking dam, the wipers swinging wildly back and forth. His hands grip the steering wheel so hard it almost snaps into pieces in his fists.
Somehow, impossibly— Bella Swan knows what he is.
And he thinks he knows what she is too.
A/N: Updated this chapter as of May 2020.