"Please baby, you're talking nonsense. Please calm down", I pleaded with him in my arms.
He was shaking terribly and I tried to calm him desperately. The small bed in my room that I had turned into a twin bed, squeaked with the bad work and the Edward's horrendous trembling. I didn't know why or how it happened, but it did happen from time to time. And it was terrible in all senses.
"I didn't want to go. I didn't. It's just... they took me. I couldn't fight. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I tried to, but they held so tightly. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to go. I wasn't supposed to go. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I promise I won't leave ever again. But Jacob! What if they take me? If they come and take me! I can't fight them! They know that! They're gonna take me! Jacob! They will take me again! I don't want to go! Please Jake! Help!" his voice reached the hysteric notes and at the end it was almost as he was screaming. But his voice betrayed him and it broke into pieces.
His distress and fear made my heart ache and break for him. It was just plainly awful how he was. How bad he felt. Pain and terror covered his beautiful face and nothing could past it. And just that I tried to do. I needed to get him into his senses. "You're safe Edward. No one will take you away. You're safe now. I'm here, I'll protect you. No one can take you away from me", I told him and my muscular arms that surround his tiny frame tighten around him, to make him feel also that I'm here. And more importantly: he is here.
"No, no one can help me. They will come. I know that. I'm so sorry Jacob. I'm so sorry. I don't want them to. I don't want to leave", he's starting to cry and with the quick shallow breathing included it sounds like he's drowning in his own tears.
"Edward, I need you to come out of it. You're fearing for nothing and I don't want you to. Please, sweetie. There's nothing to be afraid for now", I said my own voice full of emotion too. I pressed his head against my chest and began to stroke his back with my other hand. The bones in his back are still the same, too visible and sharp like when I found him from the forest three months before, and make me wonder how he's still standing. And he's not. He's collapsed and only I can try to hold him together. Glue him back together times like these.
But as I hold him together, he is also my salvation. I've been looking for something. I've lived such a good life. Everyone who loves me is around me and stay there and care for me. Yes, my mom is gone. But I was so young that I barely remember her. Though of course I love her, because she carried me and gave me a life and who couldn't love the one who gave the other one the gift of life.
So I had been looking for something. Someone who I could give my love for that I had been given to share. Now I had found that someone. But sometimes I fear if it's enough for him. Can I give him everything he needs? I care for him, I love him dearly, I'd do anything for him, give him anything he could ask, be anything for him, protect him from what he fears. But can he accept it? Can he laugh or even smile at my jokes? Does he believe me, when I tell him he's safe?
He's only shivering now, but when I rose his head to see his eyes I still see the constant feral fear in those impossibly green, glossy orbs. His lips are quivering as he fought against the sobs. I cup both of his pale, hollow cheeks and stare straight into his eyes with remorse. Why couldn't I heal him?
"I love you, Edward. I won't let anything harm you. No more", I tell him strongly. He looked at me back uncertainly. "I promise you. I won't let you go", I tell him again. Eventually he gave a slight nod and pressed his back against my chest. And so it was over again. The shivering stopped, however I pulled the comforters around us betterly. He was always so cold.
The morning lighted my petite room. The twin bed I'd made for us, which weren't very good as I had only made it from wood I got in the carriage, took all the possible space. Now only the closet and the little stol fitted in my room. I wanted Edward to have a better place than this one. I didn't want him to have his frail body to ache everytime he laid on the bed and wake up to it or not even being able to fall asleep to it. Or feel claustrophobic like being in a cell room.
But he said that he wanted this. That this was the only place he wanted to be in. Carlisle, Edward's father said that he could move to their home, because it indeed was Edward's home even though he has never lived in it. But what Edward had replied to him had shocked me at least. I mean of course he first lived with them and recovering. But me and him had gotten a bit close that while. He revealed that he felt smothered and suffocated in there with his parents and siblings he barely knew.
After discussions it had been decided that he would come live with me. I had a soft spot for him and he trusted me. We got even closer. It was strange. I'd never felt anything like it with anyone else. After a month I bared my feelings to him. He kind of compiled to it and let me love him. He mumbled something about that he liked me as well. But I was afraid that he just wanted to please me, because he was in such a vulnerable state. I didn't want to use him or make him feel like I was doing so. But I couldn't help myself but to love him even more, when I got to know him deeper past through the horror and eternal fear in his mind.
He was witty, kind, smart, very clever indeed, caring and thoughtful and affectionate. And delicate as a porcelain doll. He was so fragile in every way. He could easily lose his balance with his emotions. And just looking at him made me want to catch him and enfold him into the most soft and thick blankets so he wouldn't break from the dangerous world around him.
I often wanted to keep him home, well my home, but it would be his now too I think. Just so he wouldn't harm himself any way. I might be a little possessive and over-protective of him, but it's just because he needs it. And I don't think he minded really.
Now the history of Edward is still a bit mysterious for me. He hasn't been able to tell me everything before getting a panic attack. Something similar to the one he just had. But what I and Carlisle were told at the hospital - yes, we took him to the hospital after-all, because Carlisle demanded it without even blinking at Edward's protests - and what they told was that Edward had been physically abused. And of course emotionally and psychologically too.
Carlisle revealed that, when Edward was about fifteen years old he had had to been sent to a psychiatric hospital, because he had been acting so gloomy and distracted and uninterested at home. He had got a diagnosis about a severe depression there. At that time they were living in Chicago still. And he was the reason they moved to Forks.
Edward had been kidnapped. Some lunatic, however not one of the patients, but from the staff had taken him to some isolated place from the hospital with intentions of scaring the boy for life. And that bastard had accomplished it. She gave him untested drugs. Now she was a drug dealer of some sorts. Or a maker. She wanted to create something special that would sell better than any other drug. She examined them on him and also making him addicted to them and he wanted nothing else after that.
But what she didn't accomplish was to create that drug and got frustrated with that. And who she took that frustration on? Edward of course. She abused him in other ways. There were no other signs on him, but starvation and he wouldn't tell us what those ways were. I wasn't sure I wanted to know either, but what I wanted was to make him feel better. And I knew that opening up would help him.
Edward was just fifteen at the time and in a vulnerable stage already so taking advantage of him was easy to her. She shattered his sanity. And turning sixteen, he had already lost himself and believed every insult she could give him, when she went spare.
During Edward's absence his family tried to find him absolutely, but couldn't. And they couldn't bare that they didn't find him and didn't know what had happened to him. A year later she as a part of the facility's staff convinced them that Edward had committed a suicide. Police started to investigate more on her and how she was the only one who knew about it and now that he had disappeared. After that she vanished before the police got more clues. They couldn't find her.
The Cullens tried to escape the hurt of it all and moved to a distant and a isolated place. Forks. And what a coincidence was it that that was the same place she chose.
Edward told that the day he escaped from her, from the little cottage in the middle of the forest, she had taken the wrong dose of drugs and accidently killed herself. He had struggled against the restraints and finally gotten out of them. Then he just took off disoriented. But he hadn't been in the best shape and hurt himself while wandering through the forest.
And then I had found him.
He never told us anything specifically and in detail, I guess he just wasn't ready for that. But what I didn't understand at all was, why did he talk about her in "them"? He was afraid of "them", never during his attacks he said "her".
Was he telling us the truth about his kidnapper? Were there many people who hurt him? It just made me even more angry.
Edward has fallen asleep in my embrace and I turn him so he can lay on the bed even though it's not very much softer. So I lay myself on the bed too and then lift his light form on top of me, so he could enjoy the heat and softness of me.
As he sleeps there finally serene I thought to myself that if I'll be never able to find the ones who hurt my Edward, then I'd at least keep him forever safe in my arms. I'm strong and brave and I have only him to protect and he's the only one who I need and love. It's simple really. He is my everything.
I touch him ever so slightly and trace his apparent bones with my fingers in a comforting manner and I feel him relax even more on me. It feels so good to have him so close. His smooth, silky, perfect skin is tantalizing and almost makes me wanna lick him. But it's enough to have him here, where he needs to be. Safe.