Mommy Dearest

aka

Behind Closed Doors

Summary: I can't believe that she can bear to do this to me, every single day. No relief comes, but I can't bring myself to end it. I need help.

Elaboration: Edward and Alice are brother and sister. Edward is the child that everyone loves to hate, and his sister is the only one that he will let himself trust. Bella and Emmett Swan, and Jasper and Rosalie Hale are the only friends he has, and the only reason he keeps on living. Classic abuse story and not much fluff. All human. Major Out Of Character Moments.

Chapter Eight

mas·och·ism

–noun

1. Psychiatry. The condition in which sexual gratification depends on suffering, physical pain, and humiliation.

2. Gratification gained from pain, deprivation, degradation, etc., inflicted or imposed on oneself, either as a result of one's own actions or the actions of others, esp. the tendency to seek this form of gratification.

3. The act of turning one's destructive tendencies inward or upon oneself.

4. The tendency to find pleasure in self-denial, submissiveness, etc.

mas·och·ist, noun

mas·och·is·tic, adjective

mas·och·is·ti·cal·ly, adverb

1. The deriving of sexual gratification, or the tendency to derive sexual gratification, from being physically or emotionally abused.

2. The deriving of pleasure, or the tendency to derive pleasure, from being humiliated or mistreated, either by another or by oneself.

3. A willingness or tendency to subject oneself to unpleasant or trying experiences.

mas·och·ist

1. Someone who obtains pleasure from receiving punishment

sa·dism
-noun

1. The deriving of sexual gratification or the tendency to derive sexual gratification from inflicting pain or emotional abuse on others.

2. The deriving of pleasure, or the tendency to derive pleasure, from cruelty.

3. Extreme cruelty.

From the sadist was born the masochist, and from the masochist will come…what?

-m-o-m-m-y—d-e-a-r-e-s-t-

I spent the whole day with Bella. We talked, walked around Boston, stopped for lunch, and for breakfast. We caught up on everything that had happened in our lives since the last time we had really seen each other, five years ago. Saying that I was completely relaxed around her would be, quite honestly, a lie. I was never more nervous in my life. That morning's event didn't help the uneasiness I felt.

I kept picturing her, in nothing but my shirt. I'm only human. Every time I did, I would flush and stutter, if I was speaking. It was so humiliating. I wanted to tell her how I felt so badly, but I couldn't.

I wouldn't do that to her.

Masochist.

In a desperate attempt to distract myself, I forced myself to ask about the one subject I never wanted to visit again.

"So…what was it like after I left?"

Bella shrugged, her fingers pausing from where they were twisting a lock of hair over and over. She bit her lip, a habit that I remembered from our time as high school students. I knew from this that she was about to tell me the truth, but not the whole truth.

"Well…Alice was upset, as you can imagine. I don't know what happened in that hospital room, Edward, but whatever you said must have struck home, because she wouldn't come out of her room for weeks. All I would ever hear was crying. Jasper was distraught. He couldn't think of anything that could help her. Rosalie, as you so cleverly mention earlier, didn't much like you anyway, so she pretty much used her hatred and the situation to fuel the 'hate Edward' flame." I had to smile a little at the reference to my 'piñata' rant earlier, but I frowned again soon after. Rosalie and I hadn't gotten along, simply because she didn't understand, and she thought that I was a freak, so we hadn't been close. I didn't know that she hated me. Maybe she viewed me as I once viewed myself; someone holding everyone else back.

A liability.

"What about you and Emmett?" I asked, not wanting to dwell on that part any longer than necessary.

She bit her lip again. Ah, now she was going to edit.

"Well…you know how Emmett is protective of Alice as a little sister…he was upset that you leaving had upset her. At first he was angry, which I think was mostly Rosalie's doing…but then he was sad, because he realized just how much a part of the gang you played." She smiled a little. "I mean, you were always there. You were that person who was always withdrawn, always afraid to get into the center of things, but…you were always there when I needed you, or when Alice did. You helped others, despite your own problems. I missed you when you left."

She looked away, and I thought I saw a faint shining in her eyes. Oh crap, had I made her cry? Damn it. Even when I was trying to make it up to her, I upset her more.

"Come here," I told her. She didn't move, so I pulled my chair over next to hers and hugged her. I just hugged her. I didn't trust myself with anything more. She rested her head on my shoulder, and I sat silently while she tried not to cry. Was this because of the subject of what is, or what was? Had she reacted like Alice when I left? For some reason, the thought made me smile internally. She missed me.

Sadist.

She finally got control of her dry sobbing about ten minutes later. I hugged her tighter, before letting go, holding her face in my hands.

"Are you alright?" I asked, concerned. I watched her closely while she answered. I wasn't taking lies from her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry." She smiled, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. She wiped her eyes hurriedly, and her voice was thick with unshed tears, but she wasn't lying. She was sorry.

"I'm sorry about what I've done. I'm sorry that I left, and that I didn't at least try to keep contact with you, or anyone. I really, really am. There are no possible words I could say, or deeds I could do, that would make it up to you, that could restore, or even improve the relationship I shared with everyone I had before I left. But, if you'll let me, Bella, I'd like to try. I want things to be better."

Not the same, but better.

I love you, Isabella Swan.

I always have.

Why is it so damn difficult to say it out loud?

Her eyes were tearing up again, and I hugged her once more. This time, she returned the gesture. She held me tightly, as if she was afraid to let go. I like to think that she didn't want to let go, just then.

"I'm not going anywhere," I whispered to her, and from the small sound she made, that was the right thing to say. I knew that she would probably be afraid that I would disappear again, but that was impossible now. She was my new addiction. I needed her, like I needed air.

My brand of heroin.

-m-o-m-m-y—d-e-a-r-e-s-t-

"So you finally got that journalism job you wanted?"

"Better," she replied, flipping her hair in the cliché teenage fashion. I had to laugh at that. "I started as the coffee girl, and now I'm one of the top investigative journalists in the country."

"Ooh, fancy," I teased lightly. She elbowed me in my side, and I laughed again. I had laughed and smiled more in the last five hours with her than in the past five years.

Wow. How sad a statistic is that?

"What about you? Is the musician's life as crazy as it seems to be?"

"I seem to have gotten lucky, in that I am good enough to be recognized, but not famous enough to have acquired my own stalker and paparazzi group."

"I would totally stalk you, if I had time."

"If you were my stalker, I would welcome you in."

She giggled, blushing. How true that statement was, though. If she thought me important enough to follow around, I would fall at the ground and worship the ground she walked on. I kind of already did that, but then I would make it public.

What a strange relationship that would be.

I stopped my car outside her apartment building; parking it then turning to face her. The atmosphere gained the kind of tension that happens when people realize that they have to go, but don't really want to.

At least, that's what I tell myself.

She smiled. "Thanks for today."

"It was all my pleasure. Thanks for staying over last night. I'm sure, despite my shock, that waking up next to you would be infinite times better than waking up alone."

She smiled again, after blushing. She was so cute when she blushed.

"Well…I guess I'll see you around."

"I'm counting on it." She opened the door, shivering and pulling her coat around her. I had kept her out late; it was a little after ten and I knew she got up early for work tomorrow. I felt bad, but it was fleeting, because my selfish side reveled in having that much time spent with Bella.

Hell, if it were up to me, neither of us would have a job.

We'd just stay home all day.

Not necessarily doing anything.

Just being together.

If only.

"Goodnight Edward," she said, leaning down to speak through the open car door. I smiled.

"Sleep well, Bella."

-m-o-m-m-y—d-e-a-r-e-s-t-

It was one in the morning when the phone rang.

I was still awake, because the odd sensation of being happy all day had left my body immersed in endorphins, and I couldn't get to sleep.

Not that I was complaining.

I was glad that I could think clearly when she rang.

"Edward?" She sounded like she had been crying. I was immediately on high alert.

"Bella? What is it? What's wrong?" Millions of scenarios that could have happened flashed through my mind with dizzying speed and intensity. I held my head in my hands, while listening to her on the other side.

"Well…Tanya came home about half an hour ago with some guy she picked up at the bar." Tanya? Oh, her roommate. Right. "And well…it went really silent about five minutes ago, and he hasn't left. And…I'm a little afraid. I think he did something to her."

"Alright Bella, calm down." She sounded like she was working herself into hysterics. "Where are you in your apartment?"

"My room. First door on the right."

"Where's Tanya's room?"

"Last on the left."

"Okay. Is your door locked?"

"Yes."

"Stay there. I'm coming over alright? Don't panic, and don't open the door unless you hear me, okay? I'll be right over."

"Okay Edward."

"See you in a minute." I tried to make my voice light, to try and help her maintain calm, but I knew it wouldn't work. Jasper was better at the whole 'calm people down' thing. I was usually the one having a breakdown. I had only really seen Jasper angry once, and that was when he had seed the chains in my wrists.

I was vicious with the Volvo in my rush to get to Bella's apartments. I contemplated dialing the police, but I discarded it. I didn't know if the nameless one night stand had actually done anything wrong, and I could get in trouble for wasting police time. Besides, I wasn't too fond of federal agents.

So I would wait, for now.

I skidded to a stop and rushed out of the car, into the flats. I ran up the stairs to the sixth floor – her floor. I ran as quietly as I could to her door, and then quickly realized a fundamental flaw in the plan. No key.

I pulled out my phone, thanking the Gods that I hadn't deleted Bella's number when I deleted everyone else's. Perhaps she had a spare key hidden outside.

"Yes?"

"I can't get in without a key."

"There's a spare one underneath the fire extinguisher at the end of the hall."

"Okay." I hung up, retrieving the key, and quietly opened the door.

The flat layout was similar to mine. Opening the door, there was a long corridor to the right that I presumed held the bedrooms, and then a main room at this end that acted as a kitchen, dining room and living room. It was spacious and clean. It had Bella written all over it. I smiled a moment, before remembering my mission.

I knocked silently on Bella's door, calling her name. I heard her getting up and walking slowly to the door. She opened it an inch, before seeing me and opening it further. I smiled reassuringly to her, but her eyes were drawn to the slightly closed door at the end.

"Pack some clothes. You're staying over again tonight."

"But Tanya -."

"I'll go check on her. You do as I say and wait by the door, alright? And for heaven's sake be quiet."

She nodded, and the door closed. I crept down the corridor, staying to the shadows. The TV was on in the room; I could see the flickering images through the crack in the door. A strong smell of rust and salt hit my nose, and I almost hurled. Blood. I inched towards the door, peering through.

I saw the bed, tangled with someone who, to an unobservant person, could just be sleeping. But I smelled the blood. And I saw it, finally. There it was, in a huge puddle on the floor, and staining the blue sheets. I shifted, and saw a man, staring at the TV. His clothes were spattered with the pattern consistent to wild slashing. He was flipping a blade in his hand, staring blankly at the soundless images on the screen.

Police.

Alright, police.

But first thing's first.

Get Bella out safely.

I hurried down the corridor, pulling Bella out, who was standing by the door. I guess from the look on my face, she could see what had happened, for she didn't way anything, but she looked sick, and her skin was really white. Out in the corridor, I looked around frantically for something that would block the door. Anything.

I couldn't let him get away.

What happened to Bella's roommate could just as easily have happened to Bella.

I felt sick.

I had been so close to losing her.

I quickly pulled out my phone, dialing the police.

"Hello, Boston Police Force."

"Hello, I'm calling about a murder."

"Alright, son. What's the address?"

I gave it to him, along with other details. He asked me to stay where I was, but I knew that that wouldn't happen. I needed to get Bella out of here as soon as possible. I wouldn't have her within states of that man.

Hanging up, I led Bella out to the Volvo. She kept asking me questions, but I shook my head. I wouldn't answer now. I couldn't talk right now, hardly.

I drove her home as quickly as I could. I could hear sirens wailing as police sped off towards the apartment. I knew that they would probably suspect Bella, and me, and that us fleeing wouldn't help our case, but unless the guy escaped, they would have pretty damning evidence.

I didn't even look at Bella until she was safe and sound inside my apartment. There were no crazy murderers here.

Well, no murderers at least. I don't know about the mentally stable bit.

I sat her down on the couch, kneeling in front of her. I put my hands on my shoulders and looked her in the eyes.

"Bella." I made her name a sentence, making her see the seriousness I was trying to communicate to her. "Are you alright?"

She nodded slowly. She was still white, and she felt cold. She was going into shock. I grabbed some blankets and wrapped them around her, and she started shivering almost as soon as I gave them to her. She curled into a ball onto the couch, staring blankly ahead. She was silent for a while.

"She's dead, isn't she?"

"Yes." There was no point pussyfooting about it.

Bella nodded, and then sighed. I started pacing. I felt restless, edgy. She was here, she was safe. She wasn't in danger anymore. Then why couldn't I relax?

"Edward, are you alright?"

I looked at her. She had turned towards me, her brown eyes wide and concerned as they focused on me. I almost laughed. I ran my fingers through my hair, and then clenched them when I realized that they were shaking too.

What to tell her? Lie or truth?

The truth. Always the truth.

"No, Bella, I'm not okay. You have no idea how close you could have come to dying tonight. I knew that this sort of thing would happen. You don't have a roommate like that without risk of getting raped or murdered in the night! He could have done all sorts of things to you, Bella, and you would have been alive for all of it. We have no idea what that poor girl suffered before he finally ended her misery." Memories were flooding back to me with my own rant. Chains tightening…Pain…Blood and tears mixing to sting the wounds more. Physical pain. Emotional pain. Things that I had tried to suppress for years came back in a flood. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to feel, how to think. "He could have…"

He could have done to you what happened to me.

I sat down. The shaking was making my knees weak, and I felt like I could no longer stand. Bella sat up, coming to sit beside me. She wrapped a blanket covered arm around me, enfolding me in the shared warmth of her and the fabric. It was comforting. I forced myself to calm down. Hysterics would not help the situation. How stupid was it that Bella goes through the trauma, but I get the side effects?

But I would take the pain, the fear, the agony. Every time.

"Bella…are you sure you're alright? Did he do anything to you?"

"I didn't even see the guy, Edward. I'm fine." She hugged me, our positions switched from earlier that day, when she had looked to me for comfort. I held her close to me, wishing that we could just…stay this way.

I saw her eyelids droop, and I felt exhaustion creep up on me as well. The fear and adrenaline had gone, and now I was just…tired. I wanted to sleep. I got to my feet, pulling her up as well, and led us both to my bed. I wasn't about to let her out of my sight.

She didn't protest, and I wrapped my arms around her as we settled down to sleep.

I wasn't sure if I was still conscious when I heard it, but I wanted to think that I wasn't just dreaming.

Besides, she talks in her sleep anyway, who's to say it wasn't real?

But just as I was drifting, I heard the four most beautiful words in the word.

"I love you, Edward."

Author's Note: Alright, so I finally made their feelings known. Please let me know exactly what you're thinking of my writing. Your criticisms are the only things that can help me achieve the same standard throughout the fanfic.

Love you all! Review!

HigherMagic x