SONG: Muse - Fury

Chapter 40

Progress

EPOV

Sunday

"Liz, why on earth did you stop taking your meds?" Carlisle questioned, gripping my mom's shoulders in frustration.

My mom just sat there, remaining indifferent to his pleading; just as she had been with me.

Carlisle got mad. He stood up from where he was kneeling before her, and fiercely ran a hand through his blond hair.

"For God's sake Liz, answer me!" He cried.

I had never seen uncle C like that before. He was usually always so calm, so collected; so good at concealing his emotions. I mean, he was a doctor; he had to be good at it. But for once, he couldn't. You could practically see the frustration outlined on his face. I knew exactly how he felt.

He was also helpless.

My mom sighed despondently, the first semblance of emotion she had shown all weekend.

"Carl, I'm sick to death of taking meds." Her voice was little more than a murmur. I had to strain my ears to hear her from my place at the bottom of the stairs. "What kind of life is this huh? I have to take pills everyday for the rest of my life in order to stay sane. What's the point?"

I fumed.

Carlisle fumed.

"The point Elizabeth; is that you have a family who care about you, you have a son who needs you, needs you to be a mother. It's not only you this is affecting. How the hell do you think Edward feels, seeing you in this sorry state?"

She shook her head sadly.

"I've already messed up there Carl. I've been a lousy mother for the past seventeen years; nothing I do now is going to change that. Edward doesn't need me messing up his life anymore."

I stood from the stairs and turned, running into my room, and slammed the door behind me. I lay on my back on the bed, listening to Uncle C's muffled voice downstairs, still trying, ineffectively, to make my mom see sense. Angry tears gathered underneath my eyelids and though I tried to force them back, they eventually spilled out from under my closed lids, and trickled down my face, soaking the pillow under my head.

I couldn't believe that my mom still believed that I was better off without her. Even after the talk we'd had when I'd first visited her, even after I had told her that I did need her, that she was selfish for trying to leave me, she still believed that I would have been better off if she had died.

And her words only brought fury. Fury that festered and boiled deep inside of me until I could hold it in no longer; and it spilled out onto the surface.

I picked up my alarm clock on the bedside drawer and hurled it, with all my might, at the opposite wall. It smacked against the wall with a loud thud, but it was plastic so it didn't smash. It probably wouldn't work anymore though. I turned over onto my stomach on the bed, burying my face into the pillow, not even attempting to hold back the pathetic sobs that overcame me, causing my body to tremble with the force of them. I sensed his presence before I even glanced up. Uncle C stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and looking exactly as defeated as I felt.

His sigh was deep and weary. "I'm sorry Edward. I don't know what more I can do, what more I can say that will get through to her. She's unwilling to get better, and until she decides to take her medication again, it's out of my hands. I can't force her to take them. I've spoken to a therapist however, an old friend of mine, and she'll be coming round to the house tomorrow at around noon to speak to her."

I couldn't even speak, couldn't even look at him, so I just nodded into my sodden pillow, and a moment later I heard his footsteps retreating back downstairs.

Eventually I stopped crying, and I decided to call Bella to let her know that I wouldn't be back in Forks for a while. The sound of her soothing voice, the disappointment she felt very apparent, almost caused me to start snivelling pathetically again down the phone to her.

I fucking hated crying.

Monday

The therapist was due at twelve pm.

It was eleven thirty and my mom still hadn't even left her bed. Uncle C sighed forlornly, shaking his head as he continued pounding on her door fruitlessly.

Eventually though, it was twelve fifteen and the therapist, Dr. Danielle Lock, had already arrived. She took up the knocking, knocking a lot softer and a lot more patiently than uncle C, muttering encouraging things through the door to my mom. Finally, at twelve thirty, she managed to coax her out, and my mom surfaced, face blank, still in her dressing gown, her hair in a dishevelled state.

Uncle C told me to get dressed; he wanted us to go out, to give my mom and Dr. Lock some privacy. We went out in his Mercedes, just driving around Seattle aimlessly, not really having anywhere to go. He stopped at a McDonalds and got us both cheeseburgers and cokes, despite the fact that neither of us was hungry. We sat in the car in the parking lot of the McDonalds, forcing down little bites cheeseburger and staring blankly at nothing in particular.

Uncle C spoke first.

"When do you plan on returning to Forks?"

"Whenever she gets better." I replied, almost automatically.

We were both still staring ahead.

Uncle C sighed. "Edward you still have school, remember? I've already let you miss quite a bit of time this semester. At the moment, it doesn't seem like your mother will be getting better anytime soon. She is uncooperative, unwilling to help herself. If she stays this way for the week then I may have to have her admitted into Springwater Clinic again. We both have responsibilities, I'm a doctor, and I've missed far too much work. You're a student and you're missing important parts of your studies. If she doesn't respond to Dr. Lock and still refuses to take her meds, then I'll have no choice."

We were silent a long moment as I thought over what he said. He was right; we couldn't put our lives on hold for her. Uncle C was her brother, but he had a family, a job. I had school, I had Bella. I closed my eyes tightly; my jaw tensed, and brought a fist to the dashboard. Uncle C started a little. I had been hoping it wouldn't have had to come to that, that she wouldn't have to be admitted again.

"Uncle C, why is she doing this? Why now? I mean, all those years she managed to cope. Ok, sometimes she didn't cope very well but she still tried. Why doesn't she want to try anymore?"

He shrugged weakly. "I don't know son, believe me, I can't understand it either." He said, shaking his head. "But your father's death, it severely affected your mother. She was never the same Liz after that. When he died, it was as if a part of her died with him."

"But that was nearly eighteen years ago now! Does she think that she's the only one in the world to have suffered a loss? Does she not think that sometimes I miss a father I never even knew? But people get on with life; they try to be strong because they have fucking responsibilities!"

I was yelling, and a lady walking over to her station wagon looked over at us in alarm.

"Yes Edward, I know, but she is Bipolar. I know that that doesn't excuse her selfishness, but she has no control of her emotions because of it. Without her mood stabilizers, her mood is always on the far end of each spectrum. She could feel elated, energetic, to the point where she could even be a danger to herself and others around her. She could feel low, extremely low to the point that she feels like her life is not worth living anymore. There is no middle ground for her."

I knew this stuff already. I knew he was right, but I still couldn't help being mad. I scowled at my fists, the burger forgotten on my lap.

"Unless we experience it firsthand, you and I will never understand it. We'll never know how she is feeling right now." He continued. "I know you're angry with her, but she does love you Edward, never doubt that. Just...try to understand."

Try to understand? What the fuck had I been doing since I was fucking six years old?

"I've been, understanding since I was fucking six years old uncle C! I had to grow up fast, had to learn to take care of myself because of it!" I yelled again. "I'm tired of being fucking understanding! Why couldn't I just have a normal mom? Why did I get stuck with a fucking head case like her? You know, maybe she's right; maybe it would have been better if she'd died that night."

Carlisle remained calm.

"You don't mean that. And please, less of the profanity. Her session will be over soon, let's get back."

He picked up our uneaten burgers and got out to toss them in a trashcan. He then put on his seatbelt, started up the engine and we drove back to the house in silence.

Tuesday

My mom was already in the living room when uncle C and I went downstairs the next morning. She was in jeans and a grey sweater, her hair was brushed back into a neat ponytail as she sipped a cup of coffee. She looked a lot better, and I shot uncle C a questioning look as I sat in the recliner.

My mom looked over at me as I sat down. I hadn't spoken to her since Saturday, when I had called uncle C for help. I avoided her gaze as she studied me, pointedly looking at the TV, which wasn't even switched on.

"Edward," She began, but uncle C cut her off.

"Your mother has agreed to continue the home therapy, and to take her meds again, as long she doesn't have to go back to the clinic."

And what the hell was I meant to do at that news? Jump for joy? Only the threat of going back to hospital could get her to cooperate, not her brother, nor her own son begging her to.

Sometimes I wondered if she actually even loved me.

I wanted to be understanding though, as uncle C had told me to be, so I said nothing, because I knew that if I had spoken I wouldn't have been able to reign in my anger.

I simply nodded.

Wednesday

Mom had another therapy session at twelve.

And again, when I went downstairs at around eleven thirty, I found her in the living room on the couch, watching TV. Her hair was neatly hanging down this time, and she was wearing a blue sweater instead of a grey one. And, as I sat down on the recliner again, she looked over to me and smiled.

The first smile I had seen from her in days.

"I've made you some breakfast." She said quietly. "It's in the kitchen in the microwave, so it wouldn't get cold."

Uncle C, who had been busy doing some paperwork in the recliner opposite me, glanced up at me and grinned minutely.

I couldn't help grinning back.

I went out after breakfast, just driving around Seattle again. I went past my old high school, smiling nostalgically as I heard the bell ringing in its usual shrill, deafening tone. I met up with Luke after school and hung out at his place for a while.

When I got home I found my mom in the kitchen, cooking, humming quietly as she did. She gave me another smile as I watched her, mouth agape in shock.

"Dinner will be ready in about half an hour."

Thursday

Mom was a lot better. Uncle C had assured me that she was taking her meds, and I could see it was true. She made breakfast for us, as well as dinner, and she even insisted on going grocery shopping. Uncle C went with her, of course, and they came back wielding bags and bags of food.

It was past ten, and I was on the couch in the living room, on the phone to Bella. Of course I hadn't forgotten her during my time at my moms. I missed her, a lot, and I called her every night at ten.

I was saying my goodbyes to Bella, kicking myself for still not having the balls to tell her I loved her, when I felt a presence behind me. When I had finally gotten off the phone, my mom came and sat next to me on the couch, all smiles once again, and I smiled back.

"So..." She started, ruffling my hair fondly. "What's her name?"

I groaned, grimacing at the embarrassment of talking to my mom about my girlfriend.

She laughed. "C'mon." She insisted, "I want to hear all about her."

"Do I have to?" I mumbled, looking down at my lap as I felt my face flushing.

She laughed again, and I cracked a smile at the sound.

"Yes you do. I'm waiting Edward Anthony." She gave me a stern look, struggling to hold back a smile.

"Fine." I sighed, defeated.

I told her all about Bella. Everything. From what she looked like, to what she smelled like, to her favourite things, to the things that pissed her off, to what she looked like when she was mad. I told her about her dad, about her mom, about her truck, about her friends. I told her every single thing there was to know about Bella Swan, everything I had learned about her during the months, and I was actually a little surprised at how much I knew.

After I had finally run out of things to say, she looked at me for a long time, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She reached out to push my hair back from my forehead.

"You really care about her, don't you?"

I looked down at my lap again, nodding.

"I love her mom." I answered quietly.

My mom nodded; a small smile on her lips. "My baby boy, all grown up now." She murmured, more to herself. "So," She said, a little louder, "I want to meet this girl who has stolen my son's heart. Why don't you invite her over for the weekend?"

Friday

I was nervous about inviting Bella for a number of reasons. The number one reason being, what if my mom started acting up again while she was here? But then I decided that, even if she did, it didn't matter, because I trusted Bella. I wanted her to know everything about me like I knew everything about her. I hadn't told her much about my mom at all, and that wasn't really fair. I was hoping the weekend would make up for that. She said she would be in Seattle by one on Saturday. It was almost eleven when I got off the phone to her.

Only fourteen hours to go.