Characters: Bella, Charlie and 'Granddad' Swan, Edward Masen, Carlisle Cullen, Elizabeth Masen, Edward Masen Senior (minor), and Margaret Woods.
**Summary: Bella is a nurse, living in the city of Chicago, Illinois during the year 1918 when the Spanish Influenza is at its most crucial point. Happening upon a young man by the name of Edward Masen, her heart is quickly won over by the fact that something so beautiful shouldn't deserve to die. Facing strange, and prophetic dreams of what really happened to Edward Masen, she struggles with dilemma of whether or not Edward is still alive or if Dr. Carlisle Cullen is telling the truth when he insists that Edward is dead. But fate brings her across another Cold One during one night when she leaves the hospital late, and she is thrown into another world where nothing makes sense, and what she feared most becomes something she desires more than anything.**
Side notes and think to be taken in account:
-Takes place in Chicago of 1918 when the Spanish Influenza dominates the life of Bella Swan (who is sixteen years old).
-This is basically what would happen (in my opinion) if Bella had met Edward while he was still human.
***-Will eventually shift years into the future to present-day.
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer has decided that I still cannot own all things Twilight. J
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Chapter Two
"Miss Swan," a voice murmured urgently in my ear. "Miss Swan!" A cold hand shook my shoulder, causing my head to snap back and forth on the fragile cervical vertebrae that made up my neck. I watched the room fade between light and dark as the smell of blood reached my scent glands. It was salty and rustic and smelled of everything I feared. My vision of the young man who lie dying in the cot blurred, and I felt cold breathing stir loose strands of hair as they tickled my face.
"Dr. Cullen!" A woman's voice reached my ears and I heard her feet rush over towards us. "What's happened?"
"Miss Woods, please escort Miss Swan out of the critical wing. It seems I had misjudged and ignored my intuition," Dr. Cullen's tone lit my cheeks aflame and I moaned a feeble apology as I was dragged away.
"Don't worry, Bella, I'll have you cleared up in no time," the woman soothed as she lead me towards a bench just outside of the critical wing. I peered towards her groggily, recognizing my old friend Margaret Woods. She sat me down while my head swam in waves of pain as I clutched my stomach with my right hand. Two gray eyes met my vision and a glass of water was handed to me.
I sipped it, taking deep breaths. "Thank you," I murmured to her, trying to smile. I was sure it looked like a grimace from any outsider's point of view.
"Any time," she replied. Her arched eyebrows collapsed over her long eyelashes as she studied my face. I braced myself for any questions, knowing for a fact what was coming my way.
"Bella?" She asked, looking directly into my eyes. I realized she was kneeling in front of me, her very short and fair hair sticking out of the nurse cap in odd, straight, and choppy angles. She was no older than me, except for about two years, but our morals were strictly set on two different ideas.
"Yes, Margaret?" I mumbled, resting my head against the wall.
"Was it the blood that did you this time?"
I froze, my mind wobbling on the threshold of a worn and thin tightrope. In my mind's eye, I saw my torso lean from one side to the other. On my right, I saw the sick and wonderful face of the dying Edward Masen, and on my left, a river of blood one-hundred feet down, only a long scarlet snake slipping across gray stone. Before I knew it, the rope beneath my feet snapped.
"Partly," I murmured self-consciously.
Margaret's eyes widened momentarily. "Partly?"
"I became faint when I saw their faces," I explained, not including the primary person that had caused such wooziness. "The blood finished me." Half of it was true, at least. The blood did cause some light-headedness, and most of the fainting, but Edward Masen Junior caused the other part of the light-headedness. My heart jumped when I thought of his dying face, and I instantly pushed the thought away. Edward wouldn't die… would he?
"Oh," her curiosity deflated awkwardly, and she looked away. I wondered why she seemed so disappointed with my answer, but I didn't press the issue.
I smiled half-heartedly, "Do you think Dr. Cullen ever regrets his decision for allowing me to set-foot in here weeks ago?"
Margaret laughed brightly, her rosy cheeks glowing in the artificial light from above head. "I don't think he would be able to live without you, Bella," she took my empty glass from my hand and set it on one of the near-by carts. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and I laughed twice. Truth was that she voiced my fears facetiously.
I stood carefully from the bench, testing my balance. "Maybe it will pass."
"What, your phobia of blood?" Margaret looked at me with severe disbelief. She melted into laughter again along with me as we mocked the impossible.
"Maybe not," I added quietly as I shot a remorseful glance behind me towards the critical wing. "The critical wing will just have to do without me."
Margaret gave me a sympathetic look and took my arm, "Come along, Bella. There's plenty who still need our help in the recovery wing. Have you seen your grandfather yet?"
"Yes."
"Well, then, I hope you don't mind seeing him again."
The remaining day at the hospital passed slowly and uneventfully, though my conscious secretly longed to catch a glimpse of the handsome Edward just once more. However, despite my longing and suffering, I had to put the thought of his dying, angelic face in the back of my mind in order to stay focused.
More and more victims of the Spanish flu seemed to ooze into the critical wing, and I said good-bye to a lot of familiar faces from the recovery wing who had relapsed. Some faces even lost their lives that very hour, some seeming to shrink into brittle, living corpses. I watched my grandfather like a hawk, seeing him every hour-and-a-half or so, just to reassure myself that he wasn't about to die like so many of the people I had visited only the day before.
Besides the few doctors I talked to, I didn't see Dr. Cullen once, and I wondered at one point if it was more than a coincidence that we didn't see each other. I secretly wallowed in thoughts of shame; I was almost sure he regretted asking me to become a nurse. "It seems I had misjudged and ignored my intuition," Dr. Cullen's voice echoed in my fathomless mind, a sound equivalent to a high-pitched keening. I winced when I thought of his words, my cheeks stinging painfully with the blood of my emotions.
It was about six o'clock on the dot when I noticed a slab of white marble approach me from my right. I didn't move as I pretended to read the recovery report of Mr. Clarence Dailey, who currently resided in room twenty-one. Dr. Cullen cleared his throat as he neared, and I looked up with mock-surprise.
"Dr. Cullen," I greeted as I stared into his golden eyes. "I was just about to check Clarence -"
"No, Miss. Swan, you've done enough for today." I furrowed my eyebrows, preparing to respond but a white hand stopped the words that danced on my tongue. I looked at his hand, the way it held no traces of wrinkles as it continued to suspend in the air with some indication for me to stop any thought. He wanted me to listen, and for a second I almost thought I was going to try and escape. But, unfortunately, my feet did not budge as I shifted my upper body weight towards the nearest exit. I wondered if it would have been easy to out-run him.
"Please, Miss Swan, if you would listen to what I say," he said sincerely, no form of authority in his lovely voice that sounded so much like the bells of a church tower.
I nodded once, refraining from exposing my dignity with an utter of the simple "yes" answer. He smiled as if he could read my mind, and with one eloquent breath he apologized.
"I apologize, Miss Swan. I apologize because I knew better than to expose you to the turmoil of your fear, to the thing you struggle with almost every day."
I stared at him blankly, a feeling of self-loathing crawling through ever limb of my body. And then, as the anger I felt towards my initial fear began to worsen, a feeling of hopelessness caused my anger to reside and I was left dry and exhausted. I looked towards the white-tiled floor momentarily, frowning.
"It's okay," I replied quietly, now looking into his golden-ochre eyes. I sighed loudly, repeating those two words with more confidence. "It's okay." I knew he wouldn't buy it if I left it at my first tone, which happened to be very unpersuasive.
But then, as I continued to look into his golden eyes, I realized something that made the small hope I had for overcoming my fear become completely crushed: Dr. Cullen didn't believe me. Wasn't that… if a person didn't believe you, their faith was equal? And if they didn't have much faith in you, surely they didn't believe in you? I stopped breathing for three seconds as I continued to stare at his wonderful face with wide brown eyes.
"You don't believe me!" I accused out loud, holding one of my hands to my mouth. "You honestly don't think that I can overcome my fear! You're a doctor, and surely if a doctor doesn't think so, then it's a fact that it's impossible! You regret it don't you?" I breathed out loudly as my words echoed in my ears twice as sharply as they came out.
I was very stupid. I was so stupid, that I realized it at once and all I wanted to do was snatch my accusation out of the air and stomp on it until it was small enough to appear invisible. I wanted to run, run until I never saw this pretty-faced doctor again in my entire life. I wanted to hide.
And then, as I slowly pondered my accusation, I wondered for the first time why I had exploded. The answer suddenly became very simple; I had been dwelling on it for hours, so how could it have not escaped somehow? Stupid, stupid, Bella. Stupid. I continued to stare at Dr. Cullen, my cheeks turning a bright red.
Dr. Cullen frowned, his eyebrows crumbling into a very innocent mask. I wasn't fooled.
"Regret what exactly, Miss Swan?"
I sighed, trying to calm my nerves. "I'm not one of your ditsy nurses, Dr. Cullen. I don't try to follow you around hoping to become one of your lap-dogs. I didn't take this job just because -like so many other women here- I secretly hoped to catch your eye. All I wanted was to watch my grandfather recover, and so I did. But now," I slanted my eyebrows as he continued to look at me with curious eyes, "now that I have taken this job seriously, I need truth. All I need is truth. So don't think I am easily fooled, Dr. Cullen, because I am not. Don't pretend to know nothing of what I am speaking of. You are brilliant, Dr. Cullen, I have watched your work, and therefore I am completely aware of how bright you are. You know exactly what I speak of. You do not need to play dumb with me."
For the first time in my four weeks of working in the hospital, his reaction surprised me. He nodded once, a small smile plagued with comprehension on his perfectly crafted lips. His eyes told the same story; he understood my point.
"Miss Swan, you continue to surprise me in the oddest of ways," his tongue accentuated every syllable perfectly. And then, his expression changed to a softer and more serious one. "No, I do not regret asking you to become one of our faithful nurses."
Relief slammed against my worry like snow on a badly burned finger. A smile tugged at my lips, and before I could stop it, I laughed loudly.
"You're free to leave, if you wish," Dr. Cullen smiled at my happy mood.
"I'd like to say good-night to my grandfather," I replied, already half way down the hallway.
"Er- uh, Miss Swan, about your grandfather's quarters for tomorrow," Dr. Cullen held up one of his hands, slightly bewildered that I had left so fast.
But I didn't listen, I lost site of his marble-white figure as I came upon my grandfather's room. Anything about where he stayed could be talked about tomorrow. I was finally relieved to have my self-consciousness and embarrassment -not to mention my worry- out of the way. It was if I had been wading in ocean water up to my knees for the entire day, and finally, when exhaustion racked my muscles, the sandy-white shore was there to break my fall. Yes, I liked that; the white shore with its golden shells that shone as bright as the sun in the forget-me-not blue sky… My metaphor dissipated as I knocked on my granddad's door, my thoughts already moving around from one place to another.
After cooing lovingly to my granddad, I made homeward, the sun already beginning to droop in the heather blue-gray sky. Rays of red-orange fire shot out from the sun's beams and I wondered if the fire could burn away the sickness that harnessed the world. I saw few pedestrians, and those I did see walked with heads down in a brisk pace. Maybe the sunset's color reminded them of the blood that the their family had bled before they had died, or maybe it was an ill omen for all. Nonetheless, I managed to get home, my mind constantly teetering on the edge between depression and content.
Charlie had been dropped off early, the sign of the police car no where to be found. I reasoned that he no longer needed to take the police unit home. I also wondered if maybe he decided to go back to horse-back, instead.
Despite it all, I was happy to find him home when I walked through the door, giving him a much-needed and cheerful kiss on the cheek.
"Good evening," I greeted.
"Hello, Bella," he smiled up at me from his place on the sofa. His eyes once again skimmed over my nurse-attire, and I saw the many thoughts that flicked across his face. Pride, worry -the kind fathers contained-, concern, hesitation, sadness, love, happiness. It was all written there, as if his wrinkles were the lines of a book, and each contained a sentence with words that could conjure the image of the most amazing of emotions.
I patted his shoulder briefly, "Granddad is doing fine. Dr. Cullen said he will be out in no time." Charlie smiled up at me, murmuring his gratitude to the pale doctor. "And, Father, you won't believe it."
"Believe what?"
"Dr. Cullen offered me the job of becoming one of the permanent nurses," I kept my voice soft despite the excitement. I loved to make my father proud.
"That's excellent, Bells!" Charlie wrapped an arm around me as he stood up, but we kept our faces away from each other in subconscious fear of spreading any germs.
"Yes," I agreed. "How was work?"
Charlie shrugged, his arm falling away from our brief hug. "I decided to go back to patrolling with a horse. Bill says it's best…"
I frowned, looking at my father more closely. "It would be best? How so?"
Charlie looked troubled, but he shook his head as if to clear away the thought that bothered him. "Well it's not just Bill who says it would be best, but the Department of Health. They're trying to reduce the spread of the influenza."
I raised an eyebrow, "The health department? How can they control the spread of sickness." The annoyance must have reached my voice because Charlie gave me a sympathetic look.
"Not control, Bella, but hopefully reduce the spread of the sickness. With the police-units, two or men are in close-quarters of each other, so you could imagine how quickly it could spread if one of us in the car happened to be infected. With a motorcycle or a horse, the risk of it being spread must reduce it some," Charlie brushed a stray lock of hair from my forehead as I glared angrily.
"And I suppose the masks that we are supposed to wear help, too?" I said harshly, my voice mocking the decisions of the Department of Health. "Wearing face masks are about as effective as trying to block a sandstorm with chicken wire. What good will taking police-units away from the people do? This is a pandemic, Father, a pandemic. How can the Spanish Flu cause so much destruction but be reduced by simple measures? It's too strong," I frowned, glowering at the wrinkles in Charlie's forehead.
"I know, Bells," was all he murmured.
I sighed, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Father," I apologized. I was starting to feel guilty after getting angry. "It's just, I'm upset that things are so… so-" my voice broke, and I looked to the floor as I pictured my mother's face. "Death is just so unjust," I whispered. The pain in my heart deepened as I thought of my mother. She was so lovely.
I felt a hand caress my shoulder, and I looked up into my father's eyes. I saw how they were slick and glassy with rims filled with tears. I watched as one tear slid down his cheek and linger at the five-o'clock shadow on his chin. It was a liquid diamond filled with the love he still shared for his wife that he had not been ready to lose. Again, I saw his emotions fan across his face in an array of many colors.
Sad was blue, hurt purple, pain and fear a charcoal color, his love a bright mix of pinks and lavenders that turned sour with yellow when he realized the loss. There was no green, he wasn't envious or jealous of Death. He was only angry with scarlet.
For a moment of silence, we comforted each other with silent mourning before I left him alone in the living room to wallow with pain as I prepared our dinner. The chicken with mushroom sauce did not taste as good as it would have been under the affect of loss and sadness. Charlie and I ate in silence, the chicken as bland as paper on a dry tongue. I struggled to wash it down with water, another bland-tasting thing that only oozed down my throat uncomfortably.
When we were finished, I cleared the table and routinely began to wash and dry the dishes. I kissed Charlie good-night and disappeared into my room, which was on the second-story of our town-house.
The cool, blue walls soothed my silent grief, and I changed from my nurse attire to a breezy night-gown. It was darker than night when I turned off the lamp by my bedside, and for a long time I could not sleep.
When I finally did, a strange dream came to me, one that was neither sad nor happy:
Stars did not dot the sky as they did on any normal night. Though it was dark, the night was as clear a dewdrop in the winter sun. I was sitting in a strange alley, one much like the many in Chicago that were in-between rows of buildings.
I was aware of something approaching from the end of the alley, but I did not move, fear and curiosity gripping my heart and sense. Two golden eyes glinted at me, but before I could recall what was happening, a monstrous crack exploded in the night air.
Flames leaped up around me, my cries of surprise cut short from the other screams of people who suddenly appeared around me. I was knocked onto my back, stranded to be consumed by the crackling flames and their greedy fingers. I screamed as I felt the flames scorch my skin, and two red eyes glittered wonderfully at me. The eyes faded as soon as they appeared, and I was suddenly losing consciousness despite the burning.
All I remembered where the flames…The flames… it was all over.
The grotesque flames in my dream awakened me to a cool midnight in my room. Sweat beaded at my hairline, and I turned, burying my face into my pillow to escape the horrible pictures of the fire. Tears soaked into my pillow, and I shuddered at the thought of burning alive by flames of malice.
I was too afraid to move, afraid that the fire would come back like it had out of nowhere and consume me. In that state, I fell asleep, the nightmare lurking in the corners of the veil of darkness that shrouded me with sleep. I didn't wake up again that night, but the morning brought the images back.
I held onto the fact that it was only a dream despite how vivid it had been.
After all, a dream was a dream, wasn't it?
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Well, guys J What do you think? Sorry it took so long. I sometimes struggle with writers block. Anyway, REVIEW. No, don't even think about exiting this fanfic without reviewing. Hahaha. No seriously.
And, thank you guys, for all who reviewed for chapter one J. It makes me all giggly inside.