Disclaimer: As much as we'd like to claim these characters, nothing Twilight-related belongs to us.

A/N: Hey guys! We've had a surprising amount of people ask us what's been going on. First of all, we're glad to see you guys love us so much. :) Second, it's been a long couple of weeks. First it was due to some personal problems, but then we got hit by a whole ton of snow that set Ben's internet out for a few days. This is the first part of the final chapter of TE until the New Year. We'll be back before New Years though, so don't worry your pretty little behinds.

IMPORTANT! As I said earlier, Ben's internet is out. However, just as he tried getting it fixed today, his power went out. Which, as of now, is where it stands. Sorry kids, the weather in Washington has been crazier than ever this month. We don't know why. Anywho, because of this, I'm posting my part today. Sorry it's short, but it's only half the chapter. Assuming Ben gets his power back relatively soon, he'll post his half. So be on the lookout.

ANYWAY. EXCITING NEWS! cALLIEfornia BENches is FINALLY moving up the FF ladder! Thanks to ginny374, What He Would Have Wanted has been translated into French! WOO! The link is on our favorites and on our profile. This is really exciting for us, so go PM ginny374 and tell her how much you love her. :)

That's all. :) Continue.

Turning Eighteen
By cALLIEfornia BENches

Chapter 7: All Anew, Part 1

I couldn't move.

I wasn't sure if I was tied down, or if it was just because my muscles were refusing to work. Groaning, I did what I could to open my eyes.

The room was bright, the sun peeking in through a curtain-clad window. It was an unbelievably nice room, too. The white carpet perfectly offset the orangey-red walls, creating a nice, warm feeling. There was a desk on the far side of the room and a matching wooden chair. And I was on the bed. The huge, king-sized bed.

Where was I? And why was my kidnapper treating me so nicely?

A glance down at my legs told me I was most definitely not tied down. I was simply much too weak to move from the bed, so I closed my eyes again, trying to let the sleepiness take over. Maybe if I fell asleep, I'd be able to move when I woke up.

I thought of Isa. I still felt horribly about what had happened. And now I had no idea where she was. They're going to think I ran off with her.

I sighed. I wish.

At least then I would be with her. Right now, all I wanted to do was curl up next to her and curl up to her sweet scent. But I couldn't. There was no way I could be with her right now. Even if she was physically in my presence, it's not like she'd run straight into my arms. In fact, she'd probably run the other way. It was borderline mortifying, knowing that she obviously didn't feel the way I did. I mean, I had really put myself out there. I wasn't lying when I told her that I had never told anyone I loved them before.

Not the way I loved her, at least. Sure, I've told my parents and relatives that I love them. But what I had with her—my eyes shut as I tried to brush away the memories like two-week old dust.

It was irrelevant. I wouldn't see her again, ever. I wouldn't have a chance to tell her I loved her.

I let out a deep breath and opened my eyes again, determinedly focused on not thinking about her. Right now, I needed to figure out where I was and how to get out of it.

My muscles clenched again, and this time made small progress. I was able to lift up both my arms and move my left leg to the edge of the bed. What had he done to me to make me so weak? A frustrated sigh escaped my lips, and I set my eyebrows. I was going to move if it was the last thing I ever did. I refused to give up.

Slowly but surely, I made my way to the edge of the bed so I was sitting up. Standing was going to be hard—that I was sure of—but it didn't render my determination.

Setting both feet on the ground, I scooted to the very edge of the bed. I had hardly put any pressure on my feet when my knees collapsed and I hit the floor with a thud. I used the bed as support to get myself back up to a sitting position and tried again. This time, though I had to completely lock my knees, I managed to stay standing for a moment or two before falling in a heap back to the ground.

Just as I was ready to crawl over to the door, I heard something. A small thump knocked twice against the wall farthest from me.

What was that?

I waited for a moment for it to happen again, but it didn't.

I must have imagined it, I thought to myself as I got back to my feet. I leaned a majority of my weight against the wall and trumped over to the dresser. All the working to get myself moving had me worked up in a sweat; I wanted to change. But I was getting mixed signals from my kidnapper.

First, he talks to me like we're old friends, save the fact that he kept calling me Edward. Then he proceeds to punch me in the face, but then leave me on a bed fit for a king. Who knew? Maybe he left some clothes for me in the dresser.

I sighed. It was worth a shot.

Trudging forward proved to be one of the most difficult tasks I'd ever faced, and I silently cursed whoever decorated this room for putting the dresser on the opposite side of the wall. When I finally reached it, I slumped heavily against the wall with a drawn-out sigh. My hand weakly reached for the handle on the dresser, shaking slightly, when I heard it again.

Two thuds vibrated against the wall on my back. I know I didn't imagine that. As quickly as possible with my weakened limbs, I turned myself and pressed my ear against the wall, knocking three times against it. I waited.

Another three knocks sounded in answer. There was someone in the room next to mine, trapped just the same as me.

"Hello?" I asked through the wall.

There was no answer, so I tried again, a bit louder.

I couldn't hear anything distinctly, but I thought I heard someone murmuring. It seemed like a feminine voice, and the tone sounded scared. I didn't know this woman, whoever she was, but I felt like we automatically had some sort of connection. We were both terrified and scared and kidnapped. I wondered if there would be any way for me to get over there to her and comfort her.

My legs, a bit stronger now, carried my slowly over to the door. Surely they wouldn't leave the door unlocked, would they? I placed my hand on the circular brass knob.

Moment of truth.

I moved my hand slightly, and it turned a little before stopping. I let go of it and slumped against the wall. Of course they wouldn't. I slammed a frustrated fist into the door. The woman in the room next to me knocked back, once. I fought back a sarcastic laugh before collapsing into the door, exhausted.

Taking a hold of the knob, I went to push myself off and get back to the bed.

The knob, in my attempts to lever myself away from it, turned completely and the door opened. I stumbled into the hall, having put all my weight into the wood.

What just happened?

As soon as I got a hold of my balance, I made my way back to the door. I twisted it like I had the first time, and it stopped. My brows furrowed. I used all the strength I could of my weak arm muscles and tried turning it farther. Sure enough, it passed the stick point and kept on turning. I rolled my eyes. Of course that would happen to me.

I let the door go and made my way to the room next to mine, the room where the woman was staying. I softly knocked.

"Hello?" I asked quietly. A small whimper was my only answer. "My name is Masen Edwards. I was in the room next to you? I'd like to come in, if that's okay with you. I know I'd like someone to talk to, and I'm sure you'd want the same. My door was unlocked. I'm hoping yours is, too?"

I bit my lip in answer.

"Come in," a soft voice said.

The door opened easily, much easier than my own. The woman was curled up on her bed, the blankets thrown around her to the point where the only visible part of her was her chocolaty brown hair.

I would recognize that hair anywhere.

"Isa?" I asked softly.

The covers rustled and her head popped out. But it wasn't the happy Isa I once knew. This Isa's face was tear-stained and blotchy, with big puffy red eyes. He hair was knotted and messy, fanned around her. And yet she was still the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

"Masen," she choked.

"Oh, Isa," I said, hurrying over to her faster than my legs wanted to carry me. I fell ungracefully onto the bed and pulled her into my arms, not even caring that she hadn't wanted me last I saw her. I was just hoping she wouldn't push me away. I didn't think I would be able to take that. Not now.

Not ever.

But she didn't. She curled into me, even though we were separated by the thick comforter. Her face burrowed its way into my neck and I could feel the tears sweeping down her face. Her breath on my neck felt all too familiar. I reveled in the sensation, never wanting it to end. Even if this was as close as she would let me, I would settle for it.

"Isa, Isa, Isa," I chanted like some sort of mantra.

"Oh, Masen, I'm so sorry. For everything."

"Shh, you have nothing to be sorry for," I lied. She did, but so did I. In my opinion, it evened us out. We didn't need to ruin the moment with apologies. "I just want to be next to you for now," I told her. She nodded and I kissed her forehead.

We sat in silence for a long time, save for the sounds of her occasional stifled sob. It was heart-wrenching, listening to her be so upset and knowing there wasn't anything I could do to stop it. I had never seen her like this. The Isa I knew was so strong, and this Isa seemed so vulnerable, so frightened. I simply rubbed her back through the blankets and waited until she had calmed herself enough to talk to me.

"Are you okay?" I asked her.

"I think so," she said, her voice sending reverberations through my neck and into my chest. I fought the urge to moan. I had missed her, terribly. "Just scared."

"I am, too," I told her. "But it'll be okay. We'll get through this. Together."

"Masen, I want to talk. It'll take my mind off things. Not to mention I feel like I own you all sorts of apologies and explanations. That day, a week or so ago—"

"A week?"

She brought her face back to look at me, confusion in her eyes. "A little over a week. They brought you in here a week ago, today. Of course, I didn't know it was you, but I figured whoever was in there had died. There hadn't been any movement or sound of any sorts since they dropped you in there."

"Wait—they?"

"Yeah. Two women and two men. They don't come in here often, only for meals and clothing. I think they were waiting for you to wake up. They're out of the house right now. I don't know where they went."

"What are they like?" I asked her.

"The older woman—though old is definitely not a word I would use to describe her—is fairly petite. She has pretty caramel colored hair, and she tends to be the nicest of the four. She almost seems sympathetic, or maybe sorry for something. I don't know why.

"The other woman is the most beautiful person I think I've ever seen. It's not even human, how pretty she is. She's a bit intimidating, to be honest. She doesn't talk much, though. She seems a bit snooty.

"Then there're the two guys. One of them is huge, and probably on a sort of steroid. He's fairly nice, but pretty scary. I've never said anything to him; I'm afraid that if I do, I'll make him angry. And he doesn't seem like the kind of person that you'd ever want to make angry," she told me. This must have been the guy that had kidnapped me.

"The last guy is tall, blonde, and always angry; I don't think I've never ever seen him smile. He's the leader of the crew, I think. But he doesn't come in here often. And even when he does, he won't say anything. He'll just come in here and watch me when he thinks I'm asleep. I don't like it. Or him."

I decided I didn't like him either, whoever he was. It made me nervous knowing that he was doing that. I wondered what they had brought her here for.

"But I didn't get to finish what I was saying earlier," she said. I nodded, telling her to continue. "I wasn't thinking straight a week ago. And for that, I'm so sorry. But you must understand: I've never lied to Joey about anything that major before. And he trusts me. It was hard for me to deal with the repercussions of that. It's just... That weekend was so perfect. It was everything I could have ever asked for. And I was on this cloud, this heavenly cloud, all the way to my house.

"And then it was like that cloud decided to turn black and start raining. And I realized that it was stupid of me to believe I could sit on top of this cloud forever, thinking I would never fall through. And I hit the ground so hard, I wasn't thinking straight. The only thing I was thinking about was that I needed to make Joey happy, let him know I could be the kid he thought me to be. And I didn't care who I hurt in the process. Meaning you.

"Hurting you hurt me. I was a mess. A teary, stupid mess. And what I had been doing didn't actually hit me until you told me what a terrible person I was being, in so many words. When you told me I wasn't listening to my heart—or yours, for that matter—it really hit me. I felt like the lowest scum on the face of the planet. I felt like even the dirt and mud was looking down on me.

"After watching your car leave, I knew I had to follow. I had to explain to you how much you meant to me. How much I loved you—how much I still love you. But someone was waiting at my car—the blonde one—and he told me I had to come with him. He looked menacing enough for me to follow without question. He drove my car here. And I've been here ever since, waiting for you—or someone—to come rescue me. Though, I'll admit, I was doubtful that you'd want to help me. I could understand why you would have been angry and wouldn't have cared." Her voice caught on those last words, and my heart went out to her.

"Oh, Isa," I said. "How could you think I would stop caring about you?"

"Well I said some horrible things—"

"Which were just words," I finished for her. "Words wouldn't make me stop feeling what I feel for you. It took me twenty-four hours to realize it, but I decided to fight for you. But you were gone. I thought you ran away. I thought I made you run away. I felt terrible. Joey was so angry...," I trailed off.

"That's not important now," I said, "What's important is that we're here. Together. And that I love you."

"Oh, Masen. I love you, too."

Tenderly, slowly, I lowered my lips to hers. It was so different from the last time. Our last kiss was passion-filled, lust-crazed, and everything in between. This one was slow, almost a judgment of whether things could still be the same between us.

My lips curved into a smile between us. Things could go back to how they were, if only for a short amount of time. We were in danger, I knew we were, but in the moment I couldn't have cared less. All I cared about was that I was here, with Isa, and she loved me.

She loved me.

A/N: Sorry it wasn't great, but I felt like you guys deserved at least something for waiting two weeks. I just wish I could have given you all of it. :( And I'm sorry it's all so lame, but there was nothing we could do. I figured it best to give you a lame half-chapter than to give you nothing at all for another week.

Anyway, I've spent all morning preparing for this mess. Thankfully my room's in the basement of our house, so I should be fine. (The rest of my family is sleeping down here tonight. Haha.) Sorry again, but just please keep us in your thoughts. Hopefully everyone will be fine, since we've had such an advanced warning. Also, I won't be sending previews of the next chapter until Ben gets his half up. It'd give away too much. Haha.

We sincerely hope you guys can forgive us. :( Keep Seattle in your prayers.

In mean time, read this story I've been addicted to lately: it's called "The Antidote" by jandco. It's a really original plot. I'm only on chapter 3 but I'm hooked. Haha. :)

Until... well, whenever we get power back.

-cALLIEfornia BENches