A/N: So, it's been quite a while since my last update. I think it might be helpful to have a quick recap of where things are at right now - a timeline of sorts. Thanks for the idea, coffeefilterart!
HERE IS A RECAP OF THE LAST FEW CHAPTERS:
Chapter 24 - Paul comes to Charlie's house where the coven of newborn vampires he is working with manages to distract the Cullens long enough for Paul to get his hands on Bella. They discover that Victoria is behind it all and has been working with Paul to harm Bella. While Paul has Edward restrained and is attacking Bella, he shares through his thoughts the details of how he harmed Bella. Eventually, Edward and the rest of the Cullen's are able to deal with newborns and rescue Bella before Paul is able to hurt her severely.
Chapter 25 - Bella is trying to cope with the aftermath of Pauls most recent attack. Edward is distant with Bella as he drives her back to his home as he tries to process everything that happened. Bella is falling apart and seeks comfort in sharing physical intimacy with Edward.
Chapter 26 - After their night of intimacy, Bella questions Edward about what happened to Paul. She discovers that he has been captured and disabled (many of the bones in his body are broken making him unable to escape) and is being questioned about Victoria's motives. Bella discovers that Paul isn't giving them any information they want but is instead sharing details of what he did to her with Jasper, who has been tasked with interrogating Paul. Bella seeks an escape from the emotional reaction of everyone around her and decides to leave with Jacob. She and Jacob drink moonshine together and Bella becomes intoxicated. She almost falls over but Jacob catches her and in her drunken state she thinks Jacob's hands are Pauls. She has a panic attack. Rosalie and Emmett are nearby and figure out what is happening - they call Edward and Carlisle for help.
Chapter 27 – Abyss
EPOV
"It's not alcohol poisoning," Carlisle remarked, his fingers lifting from Bella's wrist before coming to rest across her forehead.
"Res shine, mutt? Really?" I growled at him, struggling with resisting the urge to crack him in half for putting Bella in harm's way. Again.
"I didn't give it to her. She found it, and nobody forced her to drink it," he looked, and sounded, remorseful as he spoke, his hulking body hunched over as he stuffed his hands deep inside the pockets of his jean cut-off shorts.
"It doesn't really matter now, does it?" Carlisle offered, a serious look on his face as he addressed us both.
"Nope, I guess it doesn't," Jacob replied, "She's just a bit out of it. Doesn't know her limits…"
"Hey," Bella's voice came out as an almost incomprehensible slur from her spot on the couch. Her eyes were closed and her body splayed out across the plush, green cushions of Charlie's sofa. She looked paler and more disheveled than usual.
"I know MY liiiimits," she snapped, her voice straining around the syllables as she struggled to structure her words into a coherent sentence.
"Obviously not, otherwise you wouldn't be half passed out on your dad's couch," Emmett said, a hint of laughter in his bellowing voice.
"I think we should go." Rosalie looked uncomfortable and uneasy as she grabbed Emmett's arm, pulling him toward the front door.
"Yes, I think we've got this under control," Carlisle assured them, nodding towards the door as he spoke. He turned to Jacob, digging into his leather bag, producing a small red pouch and an opaque white pill bottle.
"Do you know when Charlie will return home?" He asked, his face filled with evidence of his annoyance and disapproval. It was an unusual, but increasingly more common, look for him.
"Not really. They usually fish a while, come back to the res and then drink some more. But I think Harry will do what he can to avoid going back to the res, so my guess is they're probably already on their way back here…" Jacob looked mostly composed, though his cheeks were a bit flushed and his eyes glazed over with a glassy, far-away look to them, obviously the work of the copious amounts of alcohol he'd consumed.
As I sat on the floor next to Bella's spot on the couch and looked around the room I couldn't comprehend what had triggered this series of events. I wanted to be livid with Jacob, but from his thoughts I could read that he hadn't actually initiated this foolishness, in fact, he'd discouraged Bella from it altogether. Apparently, she'd been persistent and refused to be told what to do.
"I'm going to start an IV, Bella because I think you're at risk of becoming dehydrated if we don't get some fluids into you quickly. Alcohol is a diuretic, meaning that despite being a liquid it can actually contribute to dehydration. Are you ok with this?" Carlisle began pulling the apart the contents of his red pouch, preparing to insert the IV catheter.
"Um. No," Bella giggled, an unnatural snorting sound coming out of her mouth as she did. "I'm gooooood. I'm hy-dra-ted!" She bellowed, her eyes opening and then closing again as she winced in discomfort.
"Why are the lights so bright?"
"They're not particularly. You're more sensitive to the light right now because you're extremely intoxicated," I explained, running a single hand across my brow in frustration.
I couldn't understand her. I didn't understand this Bella, this reckless, temperamental woman hell-bent on defying all logic. She'd always been an enigma, difficult to comprehend and complex well beyond what I was used to, but things had tangibly shifted since my return. I wasn't sure if the change was permanent, or if it was a response to the trauma.
I knelt down next to her, taking her hand, running my fingers across hers.
"Bella, will you allow Carlisle to insert the IV? It'll help you feel better, faster."
She snorted again, a small hiccup echoing around the room as she did.
"I feel fine. I like this. This feeling. It's good," She murmured, pulling her hand out of mine before wrapping it around my neck, pulling me closer to her.
"Bella?"
"I just wanna feel your face on my face," she explained, tugging my head against her chest.
"Yeah. We're just gonna leave you guys to it, then," Emmett said, an unusual edge to his voice as he opened the front door, "we'll be close by if you need us for anything," and with a quiet click of the door he and Rosalie were gone.
"Ugh. GOOD. I just wanna be alone with you," Bella explained, running her warm hands across the back of my neck.
Our position was comical, Bella's hands gripping me in place as I knelt awkwardly over the side of the couch, my face pressed against her chest. I was acutely aware of how unfortunate this would appear to Charlie were he to walk in right this moment. Thankfully he wasn't nearby – yet.
"Bella, just a few minutes ago you were panicking, screaming for help, do you remember that?" Carlisle questioned, taking a seat on the armchair next to the couch, legs crossed and hands folded across his lap.
"Oh. Ugh. I thought he was here…"
"Paul?"
"Mhm."
Bella stilled at his name, sucking in a large breath of air as she clamped her eyes shut.
"He wasn't here, Bella. Do you know that?"
"I dunno."
"What happened?" Carlisle turned to Jacob, awaiting an explanation.
"I don't know. She was fine one minute, had a bit more to drink, tried to stand up and then just starting waffling back and forth like she was gonna collapse or something. I grabbed hold of her so she didn't fall and split her head open," Jacob explained, grimacing as realization dawned on him.
"I see," Carlisle paused, eyes trained on Jacob. "Do you know how much she had to drink?"
Jacob darted across the room and grabbed the bottle of alcohol, swirling it around before lifting it to eye level. "Maybe 6 half shots?" He guessed, his thoughts combing through the last few hours trying to catalog how many drinks Bella actually had.
"And res shine is what, 120 proof?"
"Yeah, about that," Jacob nodded in agreement.
Carlisle's brow lifted as he paused to consider the entire clinical picture before making his assessment.
"That's a lot of alcohol for such a small person," he mused, "I think it's pertinent that we get an IV into her quickly to start flushing some of the toxins out of her system before it overwhelms her body."
Carlisle angled his body to face Bella, addressing her directly now.
"Bella," he said, his words deliberate and slow "You're medically stable right now, but I really do think you should allow us to insert an IV and get some fluids into you, otherwise your condition could deteriorate rapidly."
"No."
"Bella, please be reasonable?" I begged, confused by her refusal.
She pushed my head away from her chest and sat up, wobbling against the effort to right herself.
"I AM reasonable. I don't want it, near me or inside of me. Not right now…", she pulled her hands from my neck in a knee-jerk reaction before wrapping them around her tiny waist. She looked small and unsure in this new position, obviously disturbed by her own thoughts.
"I'm not sure I understand where your concern stems from. Could you talk me through that so I understand?" Carlisle pressed, his concern growing by the second.
"Dunno. I just like this… feeling. That's all. If the damn room would stop spinning I'd be good. But it just keeps spinning and spinning and spinning. It's weird," she mused, holding a hand out in front of her, examining it with narrowed eyes.
"The room is spinning because you're drunk, Bella," I snapped, growing frustrated with her petulance.
"Oh yeah? Well, I think it's spinning because you're a… JERK!" Her sentences were becoming more incoherent by the second.
Despite this, she snorted again, apparently quite pleased with herself.
"Please, be reasonable, love. Allow us to help you because Charlie will be home soon and then we'll have to explain this mess to him as well. And it'll be a challenge to explain away the bruises this time. He'll have more questions and I'm not so sure we'll be able to pacify him with half-truths anymore."
"Oh." Her face grew serious at her realization. "Shit," she stammered out, trying to stand to her feet.
I angled in front of her, stretching out my arms so she could take hold of them.
"Help me get some stuff… clothes?"
"Alice has clothes for you at our house, you can wear those."
"No. I want my own clothes," she drawled out, attempting to pull on my arms but started weaving as soon as she lifted herself to a standing position.
"Ugh. I can't do this," she decided, falling back against the couch with a loud thud. I watched in frustration as a cloud of dust motes flew up and around her, small dust particles settling themselves against her grey-white skin.
"No, you can't. Let me help you? I can carry you out to my car," I suggested, hoping she'd be less reluctant now that she realized that Charlie might arrive home any minute.
"Ooookay," she agreed, rolling her head around in awkward circles, while she opened her mouth to make a strange popping sound, punctuating the silence in the room.
I pulled her into my arms, careful not to disturb her injured arm and grabbed a throw cover from the couch she'd been laying on, draping it over her in one, swift motion.
I moved toward the doorway, Carlisle, and Jacob following close behind me.
"Get rid of the moonshine, Jacob," I ordered, pulling the door open as I manoeuvered Bella's body through the doorway.
"You're really, like, beautiful, y'know?" Bella garbled as her hand found my face and rested against my cheek. I chuckled, amused, despite the unpleasantness of the circumstances.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. But there's so much ugly here…"
"What do you mean?"
"In me. There's ugly in me," she explained, her head pressing against my chest as I cradled her closer to me.
"Impossible. There isn't a single thing about you that is ugly," I countered, intent on keeping her talking. I was desperate to know where these thoughts were coming from and sober Bella was so much less forthcoming than intoxicated Bella.
"It happened here, y'know?" she whispered. We were standing at the bottom steps of Charlie's porch now, waiting for Carlisle and Jacob to join us. Her head tilted toward the house and her eyes settled on the window of her bedroom.
"He climbed in through the window… and then he did it to me… in my room. Against the floor. It made my back bleed…" her voice was harrowing, an inexplicable note of shame and self-loathing edging her words. My body prickled as she spoke, tensing and untensing with each word, involuntary muscle contractions gripping me.
I was worried that if I held onto her much longer I might accidentally hurt her. I recalled, from the memories Paul had flooded my mind with, the exact night she was referring to. The details of her back bleeding were new to me because I only understood that assault from Paul's perspective and not Bella's. My mind cradled the memories, filing through them until the pieces of this one, in particular, unfolded themselves in my mind's eye.
She'd stayed quiet the entire time, worried she would alert Charlie – worried he'd hear and that then he'd come to see if she was ok. Paul had threatened Charlie's life that night, promising to kill him if Bella made a sound.
I steadied myself, internally focusing on maintaining control, trying to hold my composure in the face of her admission.
"I'm sorry," I offered, struggling to find words of comfort that would do this moment justice.
"I should've stopped it. I should've told someone…"
"You couldn't have stopped him because you feared for your life, and rightfully so. He held over you the threat of harm and even death if you told anyone. Your reaction made sense because your reaction was about staying alive. And his threats weren't unfounded, Bella."
"Ugh. That's too many words, Edward. I don't even know what you jus' said."
I laughed, a short, humorless bark, "That's ok," I whispered, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead before pulling the door of my Volvo open, helping her inside.
You drive, Edward. I'll sit in the back with her to keep an eye on her condition.
I nodded, moving to the driver's side door. Jacob stood in the driveway, his hands still stuffed in his pockets as he surveyed the scene before him with unbearable sadness in his eyes. He swallowed, reigning in the emotions that were overwhelming him.
He didn't know very much about what Paul had done. Tonight was the first time he'd heard any details of what happened.
Its effect on him was visceral. I watched as his body started rumbling, vibrating as he stood in place, indrawing and exhaling with purpose and intent. His hands were balled into tight fists at his sides.
I understood how he felt. He loved Bella, perhaps in a juvenile and child-like way, but it was love all the same. The way this cut, it was beyond comprehension.
I'll kill him. His thoughts were fuming, raging, ebbing and flowing from him in a tidal wave of emotion. His russet skin burning in the pale light of the moon, his massive size shriveling as he hunched forward, fighting against the change that was threatening to take over.
I tore from the car, halting only when I was standing a few feet from him.
"Not now," I cautioned "and not like this. You need to fight against this and pull yourself together. Killing him now will mean putting Bella in even more danger. This isn't over, you know that as well as I do and he's our only chance at getting an edge over on Victoria."
Jacob looked up from the ground, his eyes a terrifying reflection of his rage. He nodded once, breathing deeply against the flames of change that were lapping at his ankles, trying to pull him under.
"Pull yourself together and then get in the car."
Jacob stilled, looking at me in confusion.
"I can't leave you like this because I don't trust that you'll be able to contain yourself. And I get it, I do. But like I said, not now and not like this. He'll get what's coming to him, of that much I'm absolutely certain."
"How can you stand it? How can you just leave him alive, knowing what he did to her?"
"I can't. But I have to anyway. We all do. For her," I said, glancing back toward the car, listening as Carlisle tried to coax Bella into accepting an IV.
Jacob looked at me, our eyes locking for a brief second where an understanding blossomed between us. The anger I felt toward Jacob was melting away as I watched this broken man stand in front of me, barely holding himself together.
He didn't know.
And if he had, he would have stopped it.
He would have killed Paul if he'd known.
We all would have.
She woke several times throughout the night, screaming in agony as though someone was trying to smother her. Her body would flip around on the bed for a few seconds and then she'd pierce out an tortured yell.
I was at her side each time, holding her in my arms until she woke, and then releasing her when she fought against me, unsure of whose arms were really around her. It took a few minutes of coaxing and calm explanation before she believed that it really was me.
And then she would fall back to sleep easily, drifting out of consciousness back into her sleep, only to repeat the same pattern an hour later.
Jacob spent the night, Carlisle insisting he stay because we all recognized he was in no condition to return to the reservation with Paul in such close proximity. I worried about the very real possibility that he would soon know exactly what Bella had endured. Based on reports from Jasper, Paul wasn't at all forthcoming with useful information, but preferred to share, in vivid detail, his assaults against Bella.
I knew what it did to me to hear it in his thoughts, I was sure the effect that would have on Jacob would be even more devastating. He was a young werewolf and not very well controlled, at that. It was unlikely he'd handle it well.
I held Bella in my arms, singing her back to sleep while she shook against me, coming down from the most recent nightmare while I listened to Jacob and Alice's conversation two stories down.
"Is she always like this?" He questioned, voice still heavy with sleep.
"Sometimes. It's worse tonight than it has been other nights. I'm sure the alcohol didn't help," Alice accused.
"Listen, it's not like I forced her. I tried to tell her it was a bad idea, but she's… Bella. She does what she wants, no matter how stupid or reckless it is."
"Yes, that's Bella," Alice sighed.
"No one will tell me anything…" Jacob complained, cutting the silence with his deep, guttural voice.
"For good reason, too. You're an animal on the edge of control. We can't have you running off half-cocked trying to take care of things."
"Please," he scoffed, offended at Alice's suggestion, "I have tons of self-control. And would you really be so heartbroken if I tore him to shreds?"
"No. Obviously not. But that's not our call," Alice said bitterly, an edge of annoyance in her voice.
There was a long pause in their conversation as I placed Bella back down into the bed, pulling the blankets up and over her, careful not to disturb the IV in her hand.
"How many times?" Jacob's voice was shaky, filled with fear.
"That's not for me to disclose…"
"Seriously?"
"Bella deserves some discretion. Her story belongs to her, we shouldn't broadcast it to anyone and everyone."
"Firstly, I'm not anyone and everyone. I'm her best friend –"
Alice cut through Jacob's speech, interrupting "ONE of her best friends," she corrected, returning to silence, allowing him to continue.
"Whatever. I'm one of her best friends. Plus, you weirdos don't really have any privacy anyways, do you? I know what that's like, and I know there's no secrets."
"Well, you don't actually know what it's like. Our kind are nothing like yours, really. Sure, we both have exceptional hearing – ours being far superior to yours – and we're both supposed to be mythical supernatural beings. But that's where the similarities begin and end."
"Not really. Eddie boy up there reads thoughts, the freaky blonde guys controls people's emotions, the big one is hopped up on some vamp steroids or something and you read the future."
"And?"
"And we have prophecies. Plus, we have a hive mind when we phase."
"Yeah, Edward mentioned that. Weird."
"Weird? And it's not weird that you can't have a single private thought without the freakish leech knowing exactly what it is?"
"That's different," Alice countered.
"Whatever. It's not. But whatever."
"Are you still drunk?"
"No. Yes. Maybe. Just a bit. But I'm clear enough to know what I'm saying."
"Sure you are."
Silence again, but with a new air of tension this time.
"Look, I just want some kind of heads up about what to expect. Otherwise, when we all phase again I'll just be overwhelmed with their thoughts about what he did… I just want some time to prepare myself for that…"
Alice sighed, "what do you want to know?"
Jacob paused, thinking about what he wanted, or needed, to know.
"How many times?"
"I don't know. Pretty sure only Edward and maybe Carlisle know the answer to that. Well, probably Jasper now, too."
"And… how bad was it after?"
"Her injuries?" Alice clarified.
"Yeah."
"Bad."
"Ok."
"Carlisle wasn't sure she'd make it," Alice explained, and I watched through Jacob's thoughts, seeing Alice in his mind, huddled in a tight ball of long, lean limbs against the armchair in the living room.
"Damn."
"Yeah," she agreed.
"That bad?"
"Yes."
The silence persisted, Jacob's thoughts percolating loudly in a chaotic array of emotional overwhelm.
"Did he tell you that I knew?"
"Who? And knew what?"
"Edward. Did he tell you I knew?"
Alice growled, "I don't know what you're talking about but you better clear it up fast, I'm not in the mood for guessing games."
"One night, after we have a bonfire at the res, Paul followed Bella home. He got in her car and he tried to kiss her. She fought him off and he stopped before anything else happened… but I think that was the beginning of the end."
Alice was tensed on the armchair, wordless and statuesque and she processed Jacob's admission.
"He didn't tell me that," her voice was a deadly sonata, and I watched Jacob recoil away from her through her thoughts.
"I didn't know he'd go that far. I thought he was just messing around, trying to scare Bella out of coming back to the res. He was so angry whenever she was around and me being friends with her only made him angrier."
"You never saw what he did in your hive mind thing?"
"That's how I found out about that first night. But after that, he stopped phasing… I figured he was dealing with some personal stuff… nobody knew it was so much more than that. He must have been hurting her that whole time."
Alice angled her body so she could take in the entirety of Jacob's body language and his expression, her eyes piercing against his.
"You feel responsible, don't you?" She questioned, her voice soft.
"Yeah."
"Me too," she agreed, softening even more.
The silence carried on between them for a while longer, each shifting uncomfortably in their seats while Jacob tried to find sleep but failed. Alice appeared to find solace in his presence, appreciating the company of someone whose pain was almost as great as her own that couldn't invade her most private thoughts the way I could.
Conversation between Alice and I had become almost nonexistent. I could hear her thoughts before she could speak them, and although that was nothing new, we were running out of things to say about how we both felt. This peculiar state of limbo was unbearable but necessary. Time had to continue moving, but we felt frozen in the same place we'd been in since our return to Forks.
It was as though everything and everyone around us had stilled to an almost dead-stop, waiting for something to shift, for something to change.
It wasn't up to us, however. It was up to Bella. And forcing her along in this process before she was ready was unwise.
Bella stirred beneath the covers, her arms rising up above her head as she swatted at the air in front of her face, groaning as though she was in pain. I moved closer to her, my hand coming to rest against her upper arm with unparalleled gentleness.
"Shhhhh, love," I cooed, praying I could bring her some peace with my words.
She pulled away from me in her sleep, groaning again, swatting at the air some more.
"Edward, no," her voice came out strained, broken and pleading. The words tore from her chest in an incompressible way. The way her voice twisted around my name was sickening, and it was obvious to me what she was suffering through in the containment of her nightmare.
I pulled away, pressing against the furthest edge of the bed, worried that if she woke to find me in her space it might startle her even more. I had grown used to Paul as the star of her nightmares, I was unaccustomed to hearing my name roll out of her in this way.
It was nauseating.
To think that somewhere in her mind, she feared me the way she feared him. To know that likely all men, all people, she could possibly trust, were dangerous to her in some fashion or another. Her body and mind had transformed and changed to accommodate the danger in her life. Warning signals would flare at the slightest provocation where no real danger existed, a compensatory response her brain had developed to adapt to dangerous living circumstances.
Post-traumatic stress disorder.
I didn't know much about it, but I knew enough to know that healing took a long time. Closure of some sort helped, but it was often years, sometimes even decades before survivors could function in their daily life completely free of triggers and flare-ups. I was prepared to support Bella through this, to walk through these dark days with her, but I was painfully aware that her will to survive was an important facet in the success of her healing.
I wasn't sure how high up survival was on her list anymore.
The pain had become so layered, so visceral, so tangible that it was all she could do to survive a day without falling to pieces in front of my eyes. I couldn't blame her for wanting to avoid this half-life, this fractioned existence she was currently wading through.
She stirred next to me, her groaning transforming into small, sorrowful sobs of pain. I removed myself from the bed, finding the chair next to her bed and planting myself there, listening to the sounds of her moving through this painful reminder, this painful re-enactment, tormented by my inability to help her.
"Edward," her voice was soft and hollow. She was awake.
"I'm here."
"Hold me?"
She was tired and forlorn. I moved to her side, wrapping her up in my arms without words.
BPOV
My head was throbbing. The sounds around me amplified, ringing through me in a painfully chaotic way. I was cold, and I realized that it was because Edward's arms were snaked around me, my body pressed tightly to his.
"How are you feeling?"
I kept my eyes closed, afraid of how I would feel if I opened them.
"Like I've been hit by a truck. Multiple times."
A short, bark of a laugh burst from Edward.
"That's to be expected, I would think."
"Ugh. This is an awful feeling."
"Truly," he agreed, and I could hear the smile in his words.
"I think I'll be needing a bucket."
"I've got it covered," he assured me, and I could hear the faint sound of metal clinking against metal.
I opened my eyes to see Edward crouching next to the bedside, a metal bucket in his hands, braced against the mattress.
Before I could push him away or force him to retreat to some other room in the house where he wouldn't have to be subjected to this misery, I was leaning over the side of the bed, vomiting violently in the pail.
He handed me a glass of water and two small, white pills once I'd stopped retching.
"Water and Advil. It'll help," he reassured with a small, steady smile.
I groaned again, cursing myself for my recklessness.
I took the pills, swallowed them down with a small sip of water and lay back against the feathery pillow propped beneath my head.
"I'm sorry," I muttered, closing my eyes again.
"You have nothing to apologize for."
"Ugh. Why? Why can't you let me grovel in my misery? I behaved like a petulant child and I deserve to wallow in misery over my mistakes."
Edward chuckled.
"You're allowed to make mistakes, Bella. Nobody expects perfection from you."
"Perfection? Trust me, that's not what I'm aiming for. I'd settle for salvaging what remains of my dignity though."
"You're plenty dignified."
It was my turn to laugh now.
"This is evidence of how untrue that statement is," I countered, pointing toward the bucket he held in his hands.
"You're entitled to some escapism."
"You're just glad to see me engaging in painfully human milestones."
"Perhaps," Edward laughed.
"I'm sorry," I said before he could continue with the deluge of conversation that was meant to normalize my reckless behaviour.
"Bella –"
I cut him off before he could continue.
"No, really. I'm sorry I've been… gone… for so long."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm sorry I haven't been present. I'm sorry I've been so awful at pulling myself back together."
"Nobody expects you to have anything figured out. You're doing well, Bella, all things considered."
"But it's not enough anymore," I explained.
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"I had a nightmare… about you."
"I surmised as much," Edward agreed, a worn look on his face.
"And it was wrong. So wrong."
"Did I hurt you, Bella? In your nightmare?"
"Yes."
"I see."
My heart ached at the sadness he was trying to conceal.
"The lines are all blurred in my mind. I've lost touch of everything that I am, and everything that I can be. But I don't know how to get my head out of this place… this place where all I can feel is the darkness grabbing at me, pulling me under."
"That's a common reaction, I think."
"It's not good enough anymore. I need to get better. I want to get better," my words were rolling and wavering, my voice giving way beneath my sadness.
"You will. I know you will. And I'll be right here, to help you, however I can."
I was silent, unsure of how to process everything that my mind held. Part of me wished I could lock away at the memories that were burgeoning inside of me, threatening to break open and pour out into my life.
"Last night… what did I tell you?" My memories from the night before were unclear, but I knew I'd revealed more than I'd meant to in my drunken stupor.
Edward stiffened, though he tried to conceal his reaction.
"You don't remember?"
"Not clearly."
He nodded once, his lips pulling into a thin line as his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Well, to begin with, you were propositioning me, quite brazenly, I might add." He chuckled and I joined him, struggling to recall what I'd said, only vaguely aware of my inappropriateness.
"And then you shared something with me… something that had happened to you. Something that Paul did to you."
I prickled, the floodgates of my mind breaking open as the haphazardly contained memories pressed into every crevice of my consciousness.
"Oh."
"It's ok, love." His eyes were sad though a glimmer of hope shone through.
"Paul raped me."
The words spilled out of me before I could control them.
But instead of watching myself crumble, I felt the weight of the words lift from my chest and I exhaled for what felt like the first time in an eternity.
Edward sat in silence with me, allowing the words to fill the space, granting me the release I needed. He knew this already, it was no secret to anyone anymore. But hearing the words, speaking them aloud, gave life to the fears that were taking root inside of me.
I couldn't be afraid of them anymore. I couldn't erase what happened to me, and I couldn't smother it down a second longer. The honesty was more painful than I could bear, but it felt more necessary than anything else in this moment.
"I'm sorry."
"Me too."
Morning turned into afternoon, the sun peeking out from behind the cloudy sky, the light no longer bothering my eyes as my sickness slowly faded, washing away as the day wore on. I'd spent the better portion of the morning laying in bed, vomiting, sleeping, fading in and out as my body tried to rid itself of the toxins I'd inundated it with the night before.
I sat upright, testing out my strength, realizing that I no longer felt nauseous, but that I still felt an overwhelming undercurrent of weakness radiating through me.
Edward sat at my bedside, silent when I needed him to be and offering distractions when I needed them. We talked about everything and nothing at the same time. I couldn't carry on much in the way of conversation, and when I grew tired and weary of what little we could talk about Edward pulled out an old, weathered copy of Wuthering Heights and read to me, filling the silence appropriately.
"Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad, only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God!" Edward's voice wrapped around the words that had carried me through my darkest days, hollowing against their newly transformed meaning.
I interrupted, smiling as I finished the monologue for him "…it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!"
He closed the book, his eyes closing too as he pressed back against the chair he was sitting in.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice drenched in his anguish. I prickled against his confession.
"It doesn't matter anymore," I whispered, sitting upright to face him, "you're here now."
"And I'll never leave you again."
"I believe you."
I stood from the bed, my legs shaking beneath me as I walked over to where Edward had taken vigil at my bedside.
"I love you," I told him, sitting down on his lap, resting a hand against his face. He nodded, his shoulders slumping, his head falling.
"And I'm ready," I confessed.
"Ready?"
"I'm ready to heal. I'm ready to live again."
Has he been here since last night?" I asked, nodding toward Jacob who was snoring loudly, huddled into the cushions of the sofa, his massive size shrinking his surroundings.
"Yes. He refuses to leave. He feels responsible, I suspect," Edward explained, helping me into the armchair across from him. I smiled at my friend, grateful for his presence.
"Has he been asleep the entire time?"
"No, he was awake earlier and went for a run with some others from the pack. He ate a meal Esme prepared for him and then fell asleep here again, much to Rosalie's dismay."
I smiled, imagining Rosalie's reaction to having Jacob in such close proximity.
Jacob slept soundly while I attempted to eat a bowl of soup that Esme had prepared. The flavours were spectacular, but the soup didn't sit well in my stomach. I guessed it was due to my aversion to food because although it felt heavy and uncomfortable, the nourishment was giving me the energy I'd forgotten was possible. It was easy to realize that my body needed this.
"Bella," Carlisle's voice reached me before I noticed him enter the room.
"Hi," I greeted him sheepishly, embarrassed by the events of the night before.
"You look like you're feeling better?"
"I am," I agreed, "I think the food is helping."
Carlisle smiled, nodding.
"I'm sure it is."
"I'm sorry… about last night. It was reckless and foolish and I should have known better. I was just trying to find an easy exit, even just for a little while."
"Indeed, it wasn't the best idea, but nobody blames you for desiring an escape, Bella. You're entitled to it now and again, though I would advise finding a safer option next time."
I smiled.
"Yes, I don't think you'll be seeing a repeat of last night anytime soon."
"Speaking of which - do you remember last night?" He asked, sitting across from me, altogether ignoring Jacob's obnoxious, snoring presence.
"Not really. I mean, I remember plotting to leave, and I remember drinking with Jacob… I remember feeling dizzy, and then feeling… hands on me. I know now that it was Jacob trying to make sure I didn't fall down, but it was like my brain couldn't process what was really happening."
"That's to be expected. Your body has embraced new mechanisms of ensuring your safety, though it can't always accurately gauge what is and what isn't safe, so it tends to interpret anything similar to the trauma as being dangerous."
I nodded.
"Does it get better?"
"I believe so, with time."
"I need to get better, Carlisle," I whispered, "I want to get better."
"And you will," he agreed.
I paused, contemplating my words before I spoke them, wanting to make sure they still rang true, that they still felt right.
"I think I need to talk to Charlie…"
Carlisle glanced at Edward, his eyes filled with curiosity.
"I'm not sure how… I'm not sure how to be honest about this without putting him in danger," I explained, wary of the words and of my own suggestion.
"Bella, I think Charlie already knows more than we intended to share with him."
"I know. But I think he needs to hear it from me."
"I agree."
"Edward?" I turned to face him, his face blank and stoic.
"Yes?"
"Will you take me to Charlie's house?"
"Of course."
"You only need to tell him as much as he already knows," Carlisle explained.
"And he knows that Paul… that he raped me?"
"Yes."
"What will I tell him is being done about it?"
"Well, that's slightly more complicated. You have fresh bruises that he hasn't seen before. He'll have questions about those."
I shivered, unprepared for this but sure that it needed to happen.
"So, what do I say?"
"I'm not sure there's an answer you can give him that will fully satisfy him. I could come with you, to try and explain that the Quileute's have their own means of reparations and accountability. He'll be resistant, as is his nature. He might insist you consider pressing charges, but if you remain resolute I believe he'll respect your decision."
I inhaled, purposefully, a renewed energy coursing through me.
I was ready.
The drive to Charlie's house felt longer than it ever had, I was anxious to get on with this, to be done with it. But as I sat in front of him, his jaw tensed and his eyes locked on the fresh bruises covering my body I wished I'd never initiated this, to begin with. Carlisle and Edward sat at both ends of the table, leaving Charlie to sit directly across from me.
Words felt lost to me as I combed through my mind, trying to find the strength to say what needed to be said.
"What's going on, Bella? What happened to you?"
His voice was gruff, filled with tension and a bitter anger.
"That's why I'm here, dad. I'm sorry I've kept you in the dark for so long… I'm sorry I've been keeping this from you."
Sadness clouded his eyes as he scratched at his unusually full mess of facial hair.
"I can't say I'm not angry… not with you. But with being kept in the damn dark for so long. I've really tried to give you your space, to respect your process… but I can't stand it anymore, Bells. Your face is all marked up again and I've got no explanation for how it happened." Charlie's eyes were wild and desperate, bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. He hadn't been sleeping, and it was apparent. He was a mess, his life upturned and overhauled since Edward left, everything he'd ever known was turned on its head and he'd been given no answers to help satisfy whatever agony was burning its way through him.
I inhaled, pulling strength from every cell in my body to speak the words that were sitting on the tip of my tongue.
The words that felt heavy and too big for me to bear.
The words that felt riddled with consequence and pain.
The words I'd been trying to avoid for nearly a month.
The words I was afraid could destroy me.
Speaking them aloud made it real.
And I had to know if I was ready for this to be real.
And if I wasn't, what choice did I really have in the matter anyway?
"Paul raped me. When Edward was gone, without the knowledge of anyone else he attacked me. I kept it hidden from you and from everyone else because he threatened to kill all of you if I said anything."
Charlie bristled, his hands balling into fists, anger flashing in his wide, brown eyes.
"He attacked me again, three nights ago… he would have… raped me again, I'm sure if Edward hadn't intervened."
"Three nights ago… you were here three nights ago, Bella. " Charlie paused, his brain processing what this meant, slowly. He was grappling with this newest truth, pulling it through his head, trying to understand what this meant.
I fought against the urge to shrink back into my seat, pushing against the shame that was threatening to overpower me.
"I know. It was the night after Edward and I had argued… the night I came here to stay."
"That animal was inside of my house? And he tried to attack you, inside of this house?"
I bristled, struggling to remain composed, Charlie's raised voice causing my heart to pound loudly in my chest.
"This is insane. I've allowed this to go on long enough, but I'm not putting up with it anymore. He needs to be arrested, charged and thrown in a jail cell!" Charlie's voice was quivering, shaking around his uncontainable anger.
"We don't have a rape kit, but we don't need a damn rape kit. We've got that note he left, and bruises right on her face," Charlie was facing Carlisle now, his face serious and fury-filled. Carlisle remained composed, his voice even and cool as he spoke.
"It isn't that simple, I'm afraid."
"What the hell do you mean? It is that simple. It was irresponsible of you to not handle this properly, Carlisle. These two are kids, and I don't expect much more from them. But you're an adult – you're a doctor for Christ's sake!"
"I wish it were that easy," Carlisle remarked, his words laden with apprehension.
Charlie stiffened, his eyes narrowing as his back straightened against the chair. He was angry, and it was building into something that looked uncontainable and frightening.
I'd anticipated his anger, but I hadn't anticipated how horrible it would be to witness.
I could hear Carlisle and Charlie speaking, their voices a muddled blur or sound, unable to penetrate through my mind in any significant way. I couldn't understand or interpret the conversation, my own mind filing through an awful array of overwhelming, painful memories.
Charlie's voice was becoming even louder, though the meaning of what he was saying was still lost on me.
My head was starting to ring, loud, sharp, pulsating sounds radiating through the small space, pain echoing around inside of me.
"STOP!"
The word was clear and crisp – it was the first thing I'd been able to understand since Charlie started his rage-induced hysteria.
I took a second to pause and think about where the sound had come from.
Who was it?
I looked around the room and realized that there were three pairs of eyes trained on me – Charlie, Carlisle, and Edward were staring at me with apprehension, expectation, and complete silence.
The sound had come from me.
I wanted to make more words, to speak again and provide some kind of explanation so that I could find an escape from this place and this conversation, but it was as though I'd forgotten how to speak. The words lived inside of my mind but couldn't find life past my tongue and lips.
"Bella?"
I recognized Edward's soft, gentle voice.
"Are you ok?"
That was Charlie. He sounded less angry now.
The realization caused relief to wash over me.
Still, I remained silent.
I couldn't find the words.
I tried and tried, struggling to extract the words from my mind and spill them out into the world. But I couldn't.
I could feel myself falling.
Sinking – deeper and deeper.
Further and further.
Past the point of comprehension.
Past the point of understanding.
And straight into unconsciousness.
A/N: So, Bella wants to heal and she's actively seeking it out, but with that decision comes the reality of facing everything she's been trying to suppress. Healing isn't linear, and the decision to confront the most difficult things in her life, like her strained relationship with Charlie, means a lot of pain and a lot of the two steps forward, one step back kind of progress.
Let me know what you think - and thank you, as always, for your reviews and for sticking this out with me!