I have been… So busy. Ya boi has been on that job-hunting grind while working full time at an unpaid student placement. I've also been busy editing and combining chapters of this story so it's fewer, longer chapters instead of tiny little chunks of scenes. I'm not going to repost the story here yet, but I might start uploading on AO3 as well. We shall see how lazy I'm feeling when the time comes.
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"I'm fine, really," Honey repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. He barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes, knowing it wouldn't help the dull pounding in his skull.
"We understand that, Mr. Hart. However, we have to wait until the doctor gets here to check you out before we can give you a clean bill of health." The nurse seemed just as exasperated as Honey was, which he guessed was probably fair. No one had ever accused him of being easy to deal with.
"It won't be much longer," Helena murmured, although she still looked a little pale. The poor woman had just stepped out of the school when the accident happened. Apparently it had taken a bit of convincing for the paramedics to let her ride with him to the hospital, since they obviously weren't related. Honey felt bad for scaring her like that, and doubly bad for being such a shit now. He gave a slight nod, trying to settle down.
He couldn't help it- he was just so bored. It had been about two hours since he'd arrived at the hospital, and after he'd answered the seemingly endless barrage of questions from the nurses, been checked for any obvious physical injuries, and gone through a few tests, he hadn't had much to do but wait around for the doctor to show up. They wouldn't even let him play with his phone in case he had a concussion. He definitely hadn't hit his head that hard, but no one would listen to him when he tried to insist. It probably didn't help his case that everything between the crash and arriving at the hospital had been a bit of a blur. That had less to do with any injuries he'd sustained than the shock of watching a boy his age hold a two-tonne van on his back and then shrug it off like a goddamn backpack. If it wasn't for the steady pulsing of low level pain from where Emmett has gripped his face, he'd almost believe he had imagined the whole incident. It was impossible, but Emmett had saved his life by getting in a fight with a speeding van and winning. Just as Honey was about to begin yet another dizzying thought spiral trying to make sense of the day's events, the door opened, admitting the doctor.
The second Honey laid eyes on him, he knew that this must be the Cullen patriarch. No one else could possibly look like that- so inhumanly perfect. He was tall (although compared to Honey's unimpressive height, everyone was tall) and seemed to be well built. Honey didn't think he'd ever seen someone look that good in scrubs, and as someone who had watched Grey's Anatomy religiously for an embarrassing amount of time, that was saying something. The man had dark circles under his dark eyes, but somehow didn't look run down. He held a clipboard in his hands and had a kind smile.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Hart. I'm Doctor Cullen, I'll be your physician today. Looking at your results, it seems like you have a mild concussion. Nothing to be too concerned about," The doctor assured, much to Helena's relief. An uncharitable part of him wondered if it was due to genuine concern for him, or if she was just glad to avoid an uncomfortable situation with DCS. He quickly squashed that thought, knowing it wasn't fair of him, and tuned in to Doctor Cullen again. "I recommend that you stay home from school for the rest of the week, try to get some rest, and avoid bright lights and screens. Take Tylenol for the pain. Any questions?"
"Are you old enough to be a doctor?"
Honey immediately wanted to crawl to the nearest ditch and bury himself the moment the words left his lips. God, who asked something like that? Although, in his defence, the man looked more like a college undergrad than a medical school graduate.
Thankfully, Dr. Cullen simply waved the question off. His expression was pleasant enough, but there was something in his eyes, something like wariness, that Honey didn't really understand. "Not quite what I was expecting, but I get that a lot. I assure you, I'm older than I look."
"If you say so…" Honey wasn't convinced, but he wasn't going to argue about it. That would be too much, even for him.
"Should we come back for a follow up?" Helena asked, fingers playing with the edge of her jacket ceaselessly. Honey almost wanted to reach over and put his hand on top of hers, but he refrained for now.
"Ah, yes," Doctor Cullen nodded, gesturing toward the door. "If you go see the nurse at the front desk, they will get you a referral form for a follow up appointment. I don't foresee there being any issues, but it's better to be safe than sorry."
"Of course," Helena stood from the hard plastic hospital chair, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She gave Honey a soft smile. "I'll go take care of that and then we can head home, alright?"
"Alright."
Helena left, but Doctor Cullen remained. For some reason, Honey wasn't that surprised. The wariness he had glimpsed before was back, stronger now.
"There's just one more question, and then you can be discharged. Do you remember exactly how you got those strange bruises on your cheeks?"
Honey paused for a moment. This was a test, it had to be. The way the doctor was looking at him, he had to have at least an idea of what had caused his bruises. Honey's belief that there was something strange about the Cullen family ratcheted up about 10 degrees.
"I'm sorry, Doctor, everything happened really fast. I don't remember a lot of the details, it all sort of blurred together." The lie came to him easily; lying to adults was basically second nature to him by now. "Why, should I be worried?"
"No, No," Doctor Cullen waved him off, expression shifting almost imperceptibly to relief. Honey didn't know if the doctor believed him, but he was at least reassured that Honey wasn't going to run his mouth. That was good- if the Cullens were some weird 'roided out cult, then maybe they wouldn't come after him to silence him. "I was just trying to satisfy my own curiosity. Like I said before, you should be perfectly fine. If you'll excuse me, I have to go check on one of my other patients. Good day, Mr. Hart."
Honey watched him go, letting out a tiny breath of relief. He'd just faced a (potential) cult leader and survived. Go him!
Deciding to ride the feeling of success, Honey braced himself and started to sit up slowly, mindful of his aching head. He had to squeeze his eyes shut once he was upright to stave off the dizziness that threatened to make him bring up the pathetic contents of his stomach. As good as breakfast had been the first time around, he didn't want to experience it for a second time. Helena came in just as he finally decided it was safe to pry his eyelids apart, followed by a male nurse pushing a rickety looking wheelchair.
"Oh sweetheart, you should have waited for me to come help you, you're all pale," Helena fussed. She reached out as if to touch him, but stopped herself. Honey was grateful for that. It had been a long time since he had felt comfortable letting someone touch him casually, especially someone he barely knew. He liked Helena and all, but they weren't quite there.
"I'm okay, Helena, just a bit of dizziness," Honey assured her, waving away her concern like so much smoke. He slowly inched inched his legs to the side, shifting around until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He winced at the soreness in his body and head on top of the nauseating dizziness he was experiencing. God, almost getting hit by a car sucked worse than actually getting hit by a car. At least then, he might have gotten the good drugs.
Helena held out her arm in a silent offer, and after a moment, Honey took it. This wasn't the time for something as trivial as pride. He gripped Helena's arm and pulled himself to his feet, shuffling a few steps to the side before planting his ass firmly in the wheelchair. Once he was situated, the nurse began to wheel him from the room. Honey gripped the armrests, gritting his teeth and resisting the overwhelming urge to squeeze his eyes shut yet again. Yeah, the wheelchair had been a good idea. He would have ended up embarrassing himself otherwise. As it was, he sat stiffly, eyes trained forward to avoid getting even dizzier. It was because of this that he almost missed seeing Emmett.
He only saw him by chance, noticing Doctor Cullen first as the nurse pushing him stopped in front of the elevator doctor, Emmett, and Edward Cullen were huddled together, seemingly having a very intense conversation. It was hard to make out their expressions from so far away, but based on Emmett's hunched shoulders and ducked head, and Edward and Doctor Cullen's matching crossed arms, Honey could only guess that the latter two weren't very happy with the former. Honey frowned to himself. He just knew there was something weird going on with that family, but he didn't have the first clue of what it could possibly be.
Edward's head snapped up, eyes meeting Honey's with chilling accuracy. Honey didn't have time to pretend he hadn't been staring, caught red-handed. Emmett and Doctor Cullen followed suit quickly after, their fathomless dark eyes training on him. Instead of backing down, he raised one eyebrow in challenge. He might not have been able to prove it, but he knew that they had been talking about him. He wasn't going to get embarrassed about a little bit of staring.
Edward looked away first, murmuring something to his father and brother before stalking away. If they lived in a cartoon, Honey imagined that there would have been a little thunder cloud hanging over his head. He saw Doctor Cullen reach out and squeeze Emmett's broad shoulder reassuringly, but any other interaction between the two was lost to him as the elevator doors slid open and the nurse pushed him inside. Honey sighed softly to himself, reaching up to rub at his temples. Yeah, this was all too much to think about right now. He wasn't in any state to worry about whatever bullshit was going on with the Cullen family. He would worry about that when his head felt more firmly attached to his shoulders.
Honey let his mind drift for the duration of the journey out to the car, checking back in briefly to maneuver himself from the wheelchair to the front seat of Helena's SUV. After that, everything was a bit of a blur. Maybe the doctor's diagnosis of a concussion actually was accurate. He remembered letting Helena help him into the house and up to his room, practically tucking him in. He would have protested the blatant mothering, but he didn't have the heart or the energy at the moment. Instead he closed his eyes, letting his eyes close. Helena left for a few moments before returning with a glass of water and two Tylenol. Honey popped the pills into his mouth first, enjoying the sickly-sweet candy coating for a moment before washing them down. He finished off the whole glass in one go and handed it off to Helena.
"Get some rest, sweetheart," Helena murmured, straightening the blankets over top him before taking a few steps away. "I'm going to call Wendy and give her an update. I'll be back to check on you shortly.
Honey grunted, not bothering to open his eyes. He figured he could be excused for rudeness, just this once. He was concussed, after all.
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It turned out that staying home sick when you were actually sick was boring as hell. Helena had thankfully backed off after the first day, trusting Honey to ask for help when he needed it. Not that Honey would ever ever willingly admit to needing help, of course. He had dealt with worse than a stupid concussion, he would be fine. His dizziness had abated for the most part, although he still found it hard to handle bright light or excessive movement. His head pounded at even the thought of looking at his phone screen for more than a quick moment. He could read, but he wasn't quite that desperate yet. By the time Saturday rolled around, Honey was almost looking forward to going back to school. It would give him something to do that wasn't napping or staring up at his ceiling, at least.
He was currently doing the latter, listening to music at a low volume while he searched for images in the irregularities on the ceiling. So far he had found a spot that sort of looked like a dog, if he unfocused his eyes and tilted his head a little. He could hear the faint sound of Helena puttering around upstairs, presumably working on her art. She had invited Honey to join her so he wasn't stuck in his room by himself, but he had declined. He appreciated the gesture, but he didn't think they were on a level where spending hours alone together could be anything but awkward. He was just about to roll over and start on another nap when he heard a knock at the door.
"I got it!" He shouted at the ceiling, rolling off the bed. Helena called back an acknowledgment, although he couldn't quite make her out through the floorboards. He grabbed the nearest clothes (a black tank top with the words 'Men want me, fish fear me' and a pair of hot pink pajama shorts) and struggled into them before heading down the stairs. Ugh, he really hoped it wasn't Jevovah's Witnesses. He wasn't in the mood to be polite to religious cultists today.
When he opened the door, he was both surprised and delighted to find M.L standing on the porch. He was thrown for a moment as to how they knew where he lived, before remembering- everybody knew everybody in such a small town, and M.L knew he lived with the Greenes. They grinned when they saw him, hitching their bookbag up from where it had begun slipping down his shoulder. "You look good for a guy who got hit by a car."
"Don't be dramatic, I only almost got hit by a car," Honey rolled his eyes fondly, shifting to the side so M.L could come in.
"Bad luck- at least if you had actually gotten hit, you might have gotten some money out of the situation."
Honey frowned. "Goddamn it. Think I could still fake some soft tissue damage?"
"Please don't commit insurance fraud," Helena appeared at the top of the stairs, wiping her hands on an olg rag before stuffing it into the pocket of her paint splattered overalls. She smiled kindly at M.L. "Good morning, M.L. How's your mother doing?"
"Good morning, Mrs. Greene," M.L greeted, perfectly polite. "Mom is good, she told me to tell you thanks for lending her that book, and she's almost done with it."
Helena waved her hand, heading toward the kitchen. "Just call me Helena, sweetheart. I'm guessing you're here to help Honey catch up on the stuff he missed this week?"
"Just in psychology and English, we don't have any other classes in common," M.L shot Honey an apologetic look, but he just shrugged. He had a brain injury- he was pretty sure the teachers would cut him a little slack. If not, well it wasn't like he was unaccustomed to having shitty marks.
"That's kind of you. You guys go work upstairs, I'm going to start making lunch soon. I was thinking about making quesadillas, if that's good with you two?"
"That sounds great. Thanks Helena," Honey smiled, waiting for M.L to step out of their shoes before leading them upstairs. He had them wait in the hallway for a moment while he tossed his dirty clothes in the hamper and made his bed before inviting them in.
They let out a low whistle, looking around. "Your room is like, twice the size of mine. Lucky."
"Yeah, this is the best room I've ever had," Honey agreed, sitting down on his bed. M.L dropped their backpack on the floor, pulling out a stack of papers and textbooks.
Honey had to stop himself from groaning. Okay, he knew that he had to at least try to catch up on his missed work, but that didn't mean he wanted to do it.
M.L rolled their eyes at him. "Boring school work first, and then we can chill."
"You're a cruel taskmaster," Honey pouted, flopping backward onto his pillows. M.L didn't look very sympathetic.
"Come on, drama king, it's not that bad," They teased, nudging him with their thigh as they climbed onto the bed beside him. They flipped open their psychology textbook, back propped against the wall.
"Say Mx. Brainiac," Honey huffed, but did as he was told. M.L was right- the sooner they got this done, the sooner they could just hang out.
Thankfully, it turned out that teachers went easy on you when you almost died on school grounds. He didn't have to do either of the in-class assignments from English, and only one of them from Psychology. M.L spent some time going over the notes they had taken for him in both classes until he was fairly certain that he wouldn't be any further behind than he had been on Wednesday morning. He wasn't too worried about Art or Photography, knowing his teachers would probably give him extra time to work on his assignments in class. He was still kind of fucked for Math and Chemistry, but he could only hope that his teachers in those classes were merciful. If he was really lucky, maybe Emmett would take notes for him in Chem.
Once they were done with school work, M.L and Honey got comfortable on Honey's bed. He was surprised at just how comfortable the situation was for him. Normally he hated having people in his space, even friends. Hell, he could count on one hand the amount of times he'd invited a friend over and still have fingers to spare. With M.L though, he didn't have any of his normal anxieties or discomfort. It was just nice.
"So," Honey started, propping his pillow up under his head and curling on his side. "On a scale from "How has school been since my near-death experience?"
"Boring as fuck, mostly," M.L scrunched their nose up. "Everyone was freaking out on Wednesday, but it was mostly a bunch of assholes trying to use the drama as an excuse to go home early. One girl even tried to say she had to go home because some broken glass hit her. I saw it- it was barely a scratch. Things calmed down once people realized that wasn't going to happen."
"Vultures. I'm the only one who gets to milk my injury for sympathy and special treatment," Honey said. He then frowned at the mention of the girl though, remembering someone who had been much more than a bystander and was probably actually injured. "Did Emmett seem okay?"
M.L's expression did something complicated, flickering between confusion, concern, and something akin to dread. "Cullen? What about him? Why wouldn't he be okay?"
Honey opened his mouth to answer, before hesitating. This felt like the kind of thing he shouldn't share casually. Not just because it would make him sound crazy, but the way the Cullen men had looked at him at the hospital… He had a feeling that if the story got out, it wouldn't end very well for him.
"Can you keep a secret?" He asked instead. M.L frowned at him, expression shifting fully into the 'concern' territory.
"I have six brothers, of course I can keep a secret," M.L said, shaking their head at him. "What happened?"
"Okay, so this is going to sound insane," Honey started. He figured it didn't hurt to warn them, after all. "But I swear to god, Emmett Cullen stopped the other car from hitting me."
"What? How?" M.L demanded, their eyes going wide. Honey noticed that they looked more upset than confused or disbelieving, but he brushed it off.
"I have no clue. One second he was on the other side of the parking lot, and the next I'm on the ground and he's hovering over me with 4.000 pounds worth of vehicle on him. Then he just shrugged it off." Honey's voice was shaking my the time he finished, and he had to clench his hands into fists. Saying it out loud made it feel more real, like a thing that had actually happened.
"You're right- that does sound insane..." M.L said. Honey felt his stomach sink, but before he could think of something to say, they continued. "But I believe you. And to answer your original question, I don't know if he's okay, because he hasn't been at school since the accident. The other Cullens have, just not him."
Jesus, this just got weirder and weirder. "On one hand, I want to know what the fuck happened. But on the other, I'm kind of scared that that the Cullens are cultists, and I really don't need that kind of drama in my life right now."
M.L laughed, and Honey hadn't even noticed how tense they were until it bled out of them. "I mean, they do have a vaguely cult-y vibe, so that's a valid concern. In any case, I think it's better if you drop it. Sometimes, the truth is better left unknown."
Even as he nodded along, Honey knew that he wouldn't be able to follow M.L's advice. After all, curiosity may have killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.
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M.L stayed for another three hours, eating lunch and spending a while shooting the shit with him before they had to head home. Honey ended up taking a short nap after they left, waking up just in time for dinner. He washed up in his bathroom, throwing a hoodie on over his tank top before heading downstairs. When he got to the kitchen, Helena and Wendall were just finishing up the last touches of dinner. Or well, Helena finishing up- Wendall seemed to be dividing his time between helping and pestering his wife. Helena thankfully seemed to find it amusing, a fondly exasperated expression on her face as she smacked his hand away from the cheese she was grating. Honey had to admit that it made the older man seem a little less intimidating, watching the pair interact. Helena noticed his presence first, nodding at him.
"Morning, sleepyhead. Now that you're up, would you mind getting the garlic bread ready? That's what this cheese is for." Helena requested, gesturing toward the loaf of Italian bread on the cutting board.
Never one to pass up the opportunity for cheesy garlic bread, Honey let out a hum of agreement. He found the butter and garlic powder thankfully already on the counter, so he didn't have to worry about hunting through the cupboards for them. He retrieved the bread knife from the drawer, slicing about half of the loaf, buttering each slice before laying them out on a baking tray. He sprinkled the garlic powder and cheese on top, popping the tray into the oven below a lasagna that looked like it was almost done. Honey felt his stomach growl in anticipation. While he wasn't the biggest fan of pasta in general, he had a special place in his heart for lasagna. Probably because it was so filling, and pretty damn hard to screw up. Honey noticed that Wendall and Helena both seemed preoccupied with cleaning up, so he made himself useful, setting the table with knives, forks, and glasses, as well as a plate for everyone. It was instinct at this point, drilled into him by countless foster families over the years. He still felt a little warm when Helena gave him a genuine thank you as she finished wiping down the counter.
Once the lasagna and garlic bread had been taken from the oven and they'd all sat down to eat, Honey found his mind wandering inevitably back to the Cullens in general, and Emmett in particular. He needed to know what the general consensus on the Cullens was. He knew M.L wasn't a fan of Emmett and his family, but something about that felt oddly personal. After a moment or two of debating whether he really wanted to bring it up, he decided to just bite the bullet and ask.
"How well do you guys know the Cullens?" he asked, wincing at how awkwardly that question had come out. Wendall furrowed his brow as if he had to think about it, but Helena nodded right away.
"Esme Cullen is on a lot of the same volunteer committees that I am. A very lovely woman, outside and in," Helena answered. Wendall smacked the table with his palm, seeming to remember something.
"Right! She's the one that made those fancy cupcakes for the bake sale in August. Seems like a mighty fine woman."
"Of course that's what would jog your memory, old man. I swear, all you think about is food," Helena laughed, shaking her head at her husband, before turning her attention back to Honey. "And of course, Dr. Cullen is the one who looked after you. Why do you ask?"
Honey shrugged one shoulder, attempting to look casual. "No real reason, I guess. The kids go to school with me, and they just seemed interesting."
"Well I can't say I've had much interaction with the kids, but they seem to be nice enough. They're certainly a very beautiful family, that's for certain. Has one of them caught your eye?" Helena asked, which- No. It didn't matter how nice and kind his new foster parents seemed, he was not going there with them.
"No! No, nothing like that. I was just talking with M.L about them, and they said that the Cullens are sorta weird, so-"
Helena interrupted, looking actually angry for the first time since Honey had met her. "Don't you listen to that kind of talk, Honey. People around here are so set in their 'right' way of doing things, they think anyone who deviates is weird and wrong. Hell, folks thought Wendall and I were strange when we decided to start fostering, didn't they?"
"Sure did, Helly," Wendall agreed, nodding along with his wife. "I think that Dr. and Mrs. Cullen are admirable, adopting and fostering four teens at once, and at such a young age themselves."
"No, no, I don't think M.L meant it like that," Honey interjected quickly. He didn't need his foster parents deciding that his only friend was an asshole. "I mean, they know I'm a foster kid, and they aren't weird about it, so."
"Hmm, alright then," Helena nodded, looking somewhat appeased. "In any case, don't let other people's assessments skew your own. They aren't perfect, nobody is, but from what I can tell they're good people, they don't cause any sort of trouble. Beyond that, there's not much else I can say on the matter."
Honey nodded, letting the conversation go. Before long, talk turned to other things, Helena and Wendall recounting their days and encouraging Honey to do the same- not that he had much to talk about. Helena asked him if he felt ready to return to school on Monday, and he agreed that he was. As the evening wore on into the night, Honey found the Cullens slipping right out of his mind, at least for now.
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There we go! I'm sorry this took so long guys, but I've been busy as hell. I'm hoping that I'll be able to get back on a semi regular updating schedule soon, but I can't make any definitive promises right now, because I don't have wifi.
I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and please leave a review telling me your thoughts!