This was going to be one massive chapter, but it just didn't work… it was too unwieldy and confusing. So I split it up into two chapters. I couldn't leave you all hanging though, so I'm posting them back-to-back. Don't get used to that hehe. This means that Theotherbella edited two long chapters in two days! She's my rockstar hero this week.

My amazing, talented, and fabulous hubby made me a banner for this fic. It's incredible, please check it out here (replace "dot" with an actual dot) or the link on my profile:

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I don't own, I just play

Chapter 5, Her Hero

BPOV

My mother killed herself when I was 22.

The only people in the world who knew that were my father and Sue. She wasn't a traditional mother. When I was seven, we spent my summer vacation on a commune in Colorado, pulling carrots from the ground and becoming "one with nature." When I was twelve and got my period, she took me to a local Native American Reservation and we experienced a sweat lodge together as a celebration of femininity. She was a Vegan before it was cool. She wore crystals not because they were pretty, but because she thought they were healing.

My parents split when I was five years old. It was a mutual and calm break-up. No courts were involved with custody or anything. I split my time equally between the two of them - playing caretaker to my free-thinking mother and chef to my kitchen-allergic father until he married Sue when I was 17.

I never knew my mother was unhappy because she never said or showed anything. To me, she seemed to find peace in her crystals and mediation groups. It never once occurred to me that the reason she sought peace and tranquility with such a fervent passion was because she never felt either.

There was no note. There was no indication that she was about to end her life. My mother had left a few days previous on another retreat. She was in Phoenix, or so I thought. In fact, she went to the Jemez Mountains just outside of Santa Fe. It was at a spot along the Jemez River that a hiker found her. I knew there was something up when both Sue and my father walked into my room. I was still living with my parents, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, and they never kicked me out or made me feel unwelcome in either house.

Sue immediately sat next to me and took my hands in hers. My father was still in uniform and was playing with his belt, not looking me in the eyes.

"What's going on guys?" I asked nervously.

"Bella," Sue started, but then got too choked up to continue.

My father came and kneeled in front of me.

"Dad? What's going on?" I asked a little more panicked.

He looked at me square in the eyes and said "It's your mother. Bella, I'm so sorry."

I didn't get it though.

"What, she run away with some baseball player or something?" I sassed.

When Sue began to sob, things started to become clear. I looked to my father who actually had tears in his eyes. I didn't want to believe it. I got up and tried to run out of my room. I thought if I went to my mother's place she would be there. Of course she would be. She was due back later in that day, anyway. She would be glowing with her newfound peace and tell me about the beauty she witnessed, just like she always did.

I didn't get far though. My father grabbed me from behind and wouldn't let go.

"She's not there, Bella."

I crumbled then. Only my father's arms were keeping me upright. He wouldn't let me go - not through the tears, not through the dizziness, not through the screams. And I screamed. I screamed until I couldn't make anymore noise. The pain wasn't over though. My father told me it wasn't an accident. He told me about the pills. Pills I wasn't even aware she took. She was so maniacal about Western medicine. She didn't even take Tylenol. Suddenly, everything hurt.

It was days before I could stand or talk or stop my eyes from leaking. Sue wouldn't leave my side. My father took care of everything. To my utmost surprise, my mother had a will. She left me everything she had, and precise instructions for her "death ceremony." She wanted her body to be left in the desert to be picked apart by nature, to decompose and become one with Mother Earth once again. I couldn't let that happen.

I didn't care what her last wish was, I would not let her be torn apart by animals. I asked my father to have her body cremated. I would spread her ashes in the desert instead. Two weeks later, Charlie, Sue and I were in the Jemez Mountains, by Soda Falls. Mom and I used go to Soda Falls when I was younger. I had fond memories of her there.

I sold everything that my mother left me, which wasn't much anyway. Not out of spite, but because I didn't want the memory of her haunting me every time I saw one of her scarves, necklaces, or books. The problem was it wasn't just objects that reminded me of her... it was everything. Santa Fe was permeated with her spirit and as hard as I tried, I couldn't find peace. I needed to get away. I needed a break. I left Santa Fe and ran away to New York where there were no deserts, no searingly beautiful sunsets, and nothing to trigger thoughts of my mother.

It was working until I was about to turn 30. Suddenly all I could think about was how much I wished my mother was around. I wanted her to make me one of her awful vegan birthday cakes. I wanted to hear her voice again, I wanted to know what she thought about my amazing new hair - what would she have thought about my jewelry, my new friends, our plans for the business.

And I knew that if I was serious about becoming the me I imaged in my head: the cool, fierce, amazing Bella, I had to face my the memory of my mother. I was past being angry with her and past wondering if there were something I could have done - hints or clues I should have recognized. Instead, I wanted to do something that would at once help me say goodbye, but never let me forget.

It was a lonely night in my little apartment when I remembered the poster in the living room. My mother's decorating style was haphazard to say the least. Most of it was flea market finds. None of it matched, everything had some crazy pattern on it accented by nauseating colors. She painted anything that she deemed was too white, gray, or brown. Every wooden surface had little painted zodiac symbols on it, or skulls, or chili peppers, or suns in metallic inks and paints. Everything was nuts except for the poster in the living room.

It was called "Cow Skulls with Calico Roses," by Georgia O'Keeffe. The painting was all whites and grays. It was the only calm inch of space in the riot that was my Mother's apartment. It was iconically Southwestern too and always reminded me of the harshness, yet indescribable beauty, of the desert. I thought of it and realized it was the perfect image. It was my mother, it was Santa Fe, it was tragic and beautiful. It would make a brilliant tattoo.

So when I asked Alice if she knew a tattoo artist, I told her I wanted a little something that reminded me of home. It was a partial truth. I wasn't sure if I wanted to or had the strength to tell Rose or Alice, or even Jacob, the truth about it. They all thought Sue was my mother, and that wasn't exactly a lie either, she was in every way that counted. Maybe I would eventually tell them, but it was still something I wanted to keep locked inside.

My tattoo, a selfish little 30th birthday gift. I knew it would cost a fortune, but it wasn't as if I spent money on myself often and anyway, Alice promised that Garrett would give me a family price. So on a Tuesday in September a few days before my birthday, I was talking with Garrett in his parlour in Alphabet City about my tattoo.

"This your first?" he asked. He was English, although had been in the States long enough for his accent to be nothing more than a lilting hint of his homeland.

"Yes."

"Do you have a picture?"

"Yes," I handed him the folder of the painting that I had printed out at the office. Jacob had caught me printing it and asked what it was. When I told him, he was excited and wanted to come along. I told him it was something I wanted to do alone. He was sore for a few minutes, then let it go.

"Georgia O'Keeffe, huh? Well it's wonderful but it's not going to look so great small. It would have to be fairly large if..."

"I want it on my back," I butted in, "my entire back. The horns can come over my blades and rest on the back of my shoulders, the head can dip down my spine, and the flower can cut across my waist."

"You've thought this through, huh?"

"Every night for a week."

"Is there a story behind this?"

"It's for my mother."

"She's not here anymore, is she?"

"No... How did you know?"

"When you've been around as many people getting tattoos as I have, you can tell."

"I see."

There was short silence as he smiled a small knowing smile.

"I know the painting is mostly white, but that won't really work. It's too much. So you want to change around colors? Just black and white?"

"Umm... I hadn't really thought about it."

"Why don't you take your time, I have to draw this up anyway. Mind taking off your shirt so I draw the shape of your back? No worries, I've seen more naked bodies than a doctor."

I smiled. He was making a very nervous situation easier. "Sure." I took off my t-shirt and let him trace my back.

"Ok, I should be done in about fifteen, twenty minutes. Make yourself at home."

I put my shirt back on and flipped through his portfolio, he was amazing. Alice was right. Of course, I knew she would send me to someone incredible. Before I knew it, Garrett was calling me to his chair.

"It doesn't look like much now, but once it's on your back..."

"I trust you. As for colors, you're the artist. Do what you think would look best."

"OK."

He handed me a towel, told me to take my shirt and bra off. When he placed the stencil on my back and showed me in the mirror, everything became real.

"This is going to take at least three sessions, Bella. We won't get it all done in one night."

"I was expecting that."

"If you're good with the placement, we'll start."

"It's perfect."

He had me sitting upright, straddling a chair. I pressed the towel to my chest only because the windows faced the street, and before I knew it, he told me to breathe normally and to let him know when I needed a break. The first sting of the needle was the most painful. After that, I sort of drifted into my own world.

Memories of Santa Fe and my mother flooded my thoughts. I remembered my mother cheering at every dance recital, I remembered her coming home with a new can of paint because she got tired of tangerine walls and was ready for lilac. I remembered the light in the desert and every flash flood that almost swept us away. I could almost remember the way she smelled. I knew I was crying. The tears just came and silently made their way down my face.

I don't know how long I was sitting there when I heard the front door quietly close, but I do remember his eyes. It was only a second - but a second I'd never forget. I saw sage green staring at me intensely. His eyes were so haunting. But just as quickly as he had arrived, he was gone. I spent the rest of that session looking out into the darkness outside the parlour door, hoping to see sage green again. I never did.

When we were finished, Garret washed and dressed my raw skin, told me not to wear a bra for a few days, and to try to sleep on my stomach that night. He asked me if I wanted him to call me a cab, but I told him I was fine. The train was a ways away, but I needed the walk. He told me to be careful. I nodded and left. I was so exhausted. I felt drained and heavy and like I could sleep for twenty years.

I slowly made my way through Alphabet City cursing myself for not taking him up on his cab offer. I was getting paranoid, too. I kept turning around, sure that someone was following me. But every time I did, I was alone. I was just slightly uncomfortable with the whole situation, but when I saw the subway station up ahead, I perked up a little. It was a long, lonely, and sore ride home.

That week was hell. I could have received the Academy Award for my exquisite performance, though. No one knew I was struggling, no one knew that I was crying myself to sleep at night - something I hadn't done for years. Between the front I was putting on and the pain I was going through re-living my mother's death, I was a wreck. I was due for another session that Friday with Garrett. I was looking forward to it, but only kind of.

By the time I got to Garrett's, I knew the routine. He got his inks ready and I stripped. I resumed my position on the chair and let him work. I looked out through the windows for the sage green eyes for a while, but then gave up and went into my trance. Memories came to me again, and yet again I could feel the tears silently working their way down my cheeks. It was painful, but cathartic in its way. Before I knew it, Garrett told me he was done for the day.

He said he could finish up the tatt in one more session. I asked for the following Wednesday, my birthday, the 13th. He didn't know it was my birthday and agreed as long as the skin continued to heal as well as it had the previous few days. I assured him it would. The only person besides my father and Sue who knew it was my birthday was Jacob, but he learned a while back that trying to get me to do anything for my birthday was useless. Thankfully, he had given up. That didn't mean he wouldn't get me some silly little gift, but I was excused from drinking or dancing.

I slept on my stomach straight through to Wednesday and only wore a tube bra, despite my better judgment. My boobs were bouncing all over the place, and Mario had a friggin' field day with the ogling and comments, but if it meant I could finish the tattoo for my 30th, it was worth it.

Sure enough, when I walked into the office on Wednesday morning there was a little silver bag with hot pink tissue paper on my desk. It was from Jacob. There was a little card attached to the bag that read: Happy 30th Bella (don't worry, I won't tell a soul). To my best girl, love your boy toy, Jake. Inside was a bottle of hot sauce and some hand drawn coupons worth ten bowls of Dan-Dan Noodles from Big Wong's. He knew me too well. It was the only time I smiled the entire day.

I was sad and anxious all day. Sue knew when she heard my voice something was up.

"Sweetie, talk to me."

It took all I had not to break down over the phone.

"Sue, it's been so long since she left us, and I've come to peace with the fact that she's not here. But I'm thirty today and..."

"...And it hurts, doesn't it?"

"So much."

"Sweetie wherever she is, she's proud of you. She would have never left you if she thought it would break you and it didn't. Look at you. You're a beautiful woman, you're making it on your own in New York. You're starting a business with your new friends. You have so much to look forward to."

"I just wish... Hell, I don't even know what I wish for anymore."

"Your father and I love you so much. We miss you like you can't even believe and we wish you were here with us, but more than anything, we want you to happy. If you're not happy, Bella, you can come home. We're here waiting for you."

I hadn't seen either of them for two years. They came one Christmas and spent an obscene amount of money on a hotel. It was too much for them to do often.

"I know you are, Sue."

"Sweetie, can I tell you what I want for you more than anything in the world?"

"What?"

"I want you to find love, Bella. I want you to call me all excited and fluttery because you found someone who likes Heath Bar Crunch ice cream as much as you do."

I could hear the smile in her voice and it broke my heart. I didn't know what the future held for me, and I couldn't say that I would never find love, but I hadn't yet and I wasn't holding my breath.

"Thank you, Sue. Is Dad there?"

I spoke with my father, which was pleasant, if not slightly strained. He never quite knew what to say when things were emotional. He left the mushy stuff to Sue - he was so lucky to have her. He did ask me what my plans for my birthday were though. I told him about the tattoo, and he was quiet for a minute. I don't think he ever considered his little girl having a tattoo, certainly not a giant one on her back. Then I told him what it was. I couldn't assume there was approval, but there was understanding in his voice and I was grateful for that.

After work, I walked down to Garrett's. I took my time and got there about twenty minutes early. The place was empty. I assumed my half-naked position and felt my stomach rumble. I realized that I hadn't eaten all day. I was too consumed with my own thoughts to think about something like food. As I had before, I searched for the sage green eyes. No luck. I slipped into my world and instead of memories, every regret I could think of flooded my head.

She'll never meet her grandchildren...she'll never see you in the pages of Vogue...she'll never meet Rosie or Alice...she'll never have lychee Bellini...she'll never kiss your forehead again...she'll never, she'll never, she'll never.

When I heard Garrett say my name, I was in some kind of limbo. Not quite awake, not quite lost.

"Bella, I'm finished."

He gave me his hand and helped me up. He walked me to the full length mirror, handed me a small mirror, and I saw my completed back piece. The entire thing looked like it was painted on instead of tattooed. There were no border lines, only soft edges. The skull was all shadows, black with white highlights. The two roses were the softest peach color, the interior buds a darker peach, almost orange. They looked so damn real. The soft green leaves and stems were equally impressive, and I couldn't help but gasp. It was so much more than I ever could have expected.

"Do you like it? I can't tell."

I needed a moment before I could answer him. "I'm overwhelmed. It's so beautiful. I wasn't expecting it to be this beautiful. Thank you, Garrett."

"Welcome. Once it's healed up I want a picture for the portfolio, OK?"

"Of course."

"Bella, please let me call you a cab. I can see how drained you are and I don't want you-"

I cut him off. "Garrett, you're sweet, really. But I promise I'll be fine. I'm a big girl now. In fact, today's my 30th birthday."

He nodded knowingly. "Happy birthday, then."

I smiled, sadly. "OK, time to settle the bill huh?" I started walking to my bag.

"Already taken care of."

"What? I can't accept that. You worked too hard on this for a hand out. No, I insist."

"Thanks, but it wasn't a handout. It was paid for already."

"Alice..." I mumbled to myself.

"Not Alice."

"Sure it wasn't," I answered sarcastically. "When I see that little troublemaker-"

"It wasn't Alice."

"Then who?"

"Can't tell you that."

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't. There was an envelope slipped under my door with a note. It was way too much money. Someone has a secret admirer."

I was a little creeped out. I knew it wasn't Jake, he didn't have that kind of money. I thought of my father, but unless he got Alice's number, he wouldn't have known where to send it. Then a flicker of sage green eyes flashed in my mind. I dismissed it. I was starving, exhausted, sore and sad. I'd have to let the mystery stay a mystery for a while.

I kissed Garrett on the cheek, not wanting a hug; I was too sore. I stepped out in the night and started my trek down the street. I knew I was weaving as I walked. I must have looked drunk, but in reality, I was just weak. I felt light-headed and miserable. I made it halfway toward Avenue C before I had to stop and rest against a tree. Suddenly everything bombarded me: hunger, pain, loss, sadness, loneliness, regret...

I had a strange vision of the skull on my back, the peach flowers, the soft green leaves. But instead of black spaces where the eye sockets were, I saw sage green eyes. It was terrifying and marvelous all at the same time.

Everything went black.

EPOV

It took a lot of groveling to get Alice to forgive me. It also took my gifting her the honeymoon of her dreams. Not only was Alice family, but along with Lydia, she was the only one I trusted, and the only person who could handle working for me.

She asked me if I wanted to change my schedule with Garrett. Instead, I told her I wanted to know when the girl, whose name happened to be Bella, was going to be there next. She found out for me and even held her tongue instead of teasing me. She knew what she was doing. I wish I could say I was angry or annoyed with her, but the truth was, I loved having something to look forward to.

When Alice told me that Wednesday was her final day, I had my driver slip an envelope and note under Garrett's door. Bella would never know who it was from, but it made me feel so fucking good to that for her. Of course, when I realized that Bella and Alice were now something Alice called "besties," I was sure that Alice's secrecy would have to be assured. Maybe a second honeymoon?

That first night she was with Garrett, I followed her. She knew I was there too, she kept looking behind her, trying to find me. I just had to make sure she got home safely. I was furious with Garrett that he would let her walk alone that late at night. I couldn't say anything though; I didn't want him knowing I was spying. When I realized she was going to the train, I damn near followed her. It was irrational. I just... shit. I had to know that she was safe. I couldn't sleep that night. It wasn't until Alice told me that she was coming again at the end of the week, on Friday, that I felt like I could breathe.

I had Alice re-arrange my sessions with Garrett for another night. I was getting my willow tree on my left rib cage. It hurt like a fucking bitch, but I'd had worse, much worse. It was going to take a few sessions, but in between those sessions, I had Bella to look forward to. When Friday rolled around, I was practically buzzing with anticipation.

Once again, I stood outside, in the dark, looking in. Bella stripped, hugged the towel to her chest, then straddled the chair. Once again, I got hard just looking at her. She looked out the windows for a little while before turning her head and slipping into her trance. Not long after, the tears came. That shit broke my heart all over again. I was so close to running in there and wrapping her into my arms. I didn't know if I could make it better, but I really wanted to try. When she was finished, I followed her to the train again.

She was early on Wednesday and by the time I got there she was already in the chair, towel against her chest. But my beauty was different. She had deep, dark circles under eyes. Her shoulders were hunched. She looked exhausted. Her tears were coupled with short clipped breaths. It looked as if she were too week to keep her head up at times. Garrett was too focused on his work to notice, but she was holding on by a thread and I was the only one who knew it.

When Garrett was finished, I caught a glimpse of the tattoo as she walked to the mirror. A skull, with two roses. I was sure it meant something, but didn't know what. She looked at the tattoo and she seemed to stop breathing. There were head nods and she got dressed. Then there was some discussion and her face got very serious, her body tensed. Later I would realize it was over the money I had sent anonymously, but I wasn't thinking straight at the time.

She was finally ready to leave. She opened the door and started walking, but I knew something was wrong. She was walking as if she were drunk and disoriented. Finally she put her hand out to a tree and stopped there. I could see her swaying, she was going to faint. I ran as fast I possibly could, and grabbed just as her head fell back and her hand slipped from the trunk. She was out like a light.

I didn't know what to do, but once again instincts took over. I reached for my cell, called for my car and minutes later we were both in the back seat. Her breathing was fine, as was her pulse - I was sure she needed rest, not a hospital. My driver asked where we were going and I rifled through her bag until I found her wallet. It was a New Mexico license - no good. I heard myself say "Home" and thirty minutes later we rolled up to the service entrance.

The driver opened the door, and seeing that I was carrying a woman in my arms, the doorman ran to open the door, then called for the elevator. When the building super opened the elevator doors, he asked if I needed a doctor. I told him she had just drunk a little too much and needed to sleep it off. I lied and said she was family from out of town - I didn't need rumors floating around.

I asked the super to use his key to open my door and once inside my apartment, I took her immediately to my bed and gently placed her down. She was sound asleep. I took a minute to take her in. Even exhausted, even in whatever pain she was in, she was stunning. Porcelain skin, plump bee-stung lips, huge eyes, her wicked thick curves were there for me to touch - so close. I snapped out of it though. I needed to call Alice.

I left her on the bed, closed the door and dialed.

"Alice?"

"Edward, what's wrong, do you know how late it is?"

"Yes. Bella is here."

"What! What the hell is she doing there, Edward? Wait... you let her look at you? You let her in the apartment?"

"She fainted."

"I'll be there twenty minutes."

Almost exactly twenty minutes later, Alice and Jasper showed up. I explained everything. Alice hugged me, something she hadn't done in a very long time. It was one of her death grip hugs too. As quietly as she could, she slipped into my room. Minutes later she came back out, got a glass of water, and told us she got Bella out of her clothes and under the covers. She was going to stay with her - none of us wanted her waking up in a strange place alone, after all. I told Jasper to take any guest room he wanted.

I couldn't sleep. I watched the city lights, I watched some TV, I stared at my bedroom door as if I could see through it. I fell asleep on the couch as some point. I was woken up by Alice, early.

Bella was awake.

A/N

A link to the Georgia O'Keefe painting that the tatt is based on is here (replace "dot" with actual dot):

http:/www(dot)metlermedia(dot)com/go/html/credits(dot)html

DYING to know what you think! Please review, it's my lifeblood.