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Whatobsession17, Kimmcarr, and Jessypt, thank you so so much for all the time you've put into this story! Couldn't do it without you ladies!

SM owns all the characters of Twilight... I just took their homes away

WARNING!
This story contains subject matter which may be offensive to some readers. I will try to post a warning before each chapter if I feel there is a need, but the story in general deals with mature themes.

I am safe, when I am with you

And I feel warm, If you want me too

I am cured, when I'm by your side

I'm alright

Careful where you stand, My love

Careful where you lay your head

It's true we're always looking out for one another

- Coldplay

EPOV

It's been three weeks since I acquired my new shadow, three very long weeks. She seems so alone and scared. I can't bring myself to tell her to leave me alone, even though some days I want to. The past three weeks, the days and nights, have gone just like the first day that I met her. Bella is skittish and scared. Every move I make in her direction causes her to flinch and cower. Every minute that she's not preoccupied she's looking over her shoulder. It's like she's just waiting for someone to come get her. She has become attached to me, not willing to even talk to anyone else, not that she talks to me much.

For the first two weeks she barely said anything to me. Just this week she's starting to speak up if she needs something, or if she has a question. It's progress. In her sleep though, the girl won't shut up. It's annoying at times because she keeps me up. I just keep hoping that she will give away some clues as to what's going on with her during her sleep-talk. She has done everything from cry, plead, beg for help and have full conversations in a different language in her sleep. Most nights, she speaks this other language. I'm not sure, but if I were to guess, I'd say it's Italian. I haven't brought this up to her, but plan to soon.

I finally convinced her to talk to Miss Elizabeth two weeks ago. Since talking to Miss Elizabeth, she'll go to the Mission to shower and have her clothes washed, as long as I stay and wait for her. She seems terrified to be alone. That's where she is right now, showering. I'm outside sitting on the curb waiting for her to finish.

I keep questioning Bella, trying to figure out how she ended up out here. I know she wasn't homeless before this. She knows nothing of street life, that much is obvious. My curiosity has been killing me though, so I keep asking questions. She just clams up, not willing to talk at all. After the first week I stopped asking. Even though I can't get her to open up, it seems that she feels safe with me. A few people have tried to bug her since she has been with me; I've stepped in every time. Like I said before, women aren't safe out here. Even though no one has tried to force her again, men have propositioned her for sex or come to me like I'm her pimp. That shit doesn't fly with me, and my fists hitting their faces let them know that.

Demetri, Felix and their gang tried to give us shit a few times. Jake and I even got into a pretty big fight with them last week, but as of now they have let us be. As I sit here and think, I realize that I have put my neck out there more times for her in the past three weeks than I have for anyone else in my whole life. I'm not sure why I feel the need to protect her, but I do. It bothers me that I've managed to grow somewhat attached to her in these past three weeks. I'm not used to these feelings, and I'm not so sure what my next move should be. I just know that I need to get her to talk to me. She's scared and untrusting of other people; she can't even hide her reactions.

When Bella met Jake the first time, I thought she was going to piss her pants. He's a big motherfucker, but harmless as far as she is concerned. Jake hung out with us at lest five times before I could get her to understand that he will not hurt her. Still every time he comes around, she hides herself behind me. He really hasn't been around much anyway, so mostly it's just me and my shadow, Bella.

During the day, I feel like I'm talking to myself. Mostly we sit by the waterfront and I talk. Talk about music, people that I know out here, the job that I so desperately want to get, Miss Elizabeth, anything to fill up the silence really. She adds a little more to the conversation each day but mostly, she listens. I find myself trying to make her laugh, trying to keep her from looking over her shoulder for the bogey man that seems to be after her. I've fought everyone that has tried to hurt her, but I can't fight something that I know nothing about. I let my head rest on my knees; I'm tired of thinking about this.

I feel like I have been waiting for her forever when I feel her presence next to me and lift my head. I can't help but notice how pretty she looks. Her face and hair freshly washed, her clothes smell clean. She has a soft smile on her face that makes her look innocent and sweet. Her bruises have pretty much healed, leaving her pale skin unmarked, except for a few scars that seem like they will be permanent fixtures on her otherwise flawless face.

"Hey," she says softly.

"Hey, you feel better?" I ask.

"Yeah, a lot better; feels good to get cleaned up." I just nod in agreement.

"River?" I ask. She nods, and we stand to make the mile walk to the waterfront that has quickly become our place. We sit on the bench that has become familiar to us over the past three weeks. I notice that she sits on the bench fully, unlike last week when she had half of her ass hanging off to keep space between us.

It's a grey, overcast, cold day. Bella is wearing a sweatshirt that the mission gave her when her shirt was too ripped to be sewn up. She pulls at the sleeves and she crosses her arms. She brings her feet up on the bench and hugs her knees. She intently watches the water as a rowing team practices; they glide gracefully by. Every few minutes, she looks over her shoulder.

"Do you like the water?" I ask, not able to stand the silence anymore. She shrugs; I look at her, willing her to talk. Finally, she does.

"I...uh haven't really swam before, but I do like looking at the water. It's peaceful."

"It is," I agree. I don't ask her about her history and the lack of swimming. I have learned if I get personal at all she clams up. I want to save those questions for something more important than swimming.

"Do...you...you know," she says motioning toward the river. I wait; she needs to start talking more. A few seconds later, she finally finishes her sentence.

"Do you like the water?" It was quiet but, once again, progress.

"I do. I used to swim a lot. Sometimes in the summer it gets warm enough to swim here; maybe you'll have a chance to learn." I don't offer to teach her, because I plan to be far away from the streets by then.

We spend a while in silence. I want to try to get her to open up about her past. I decide that now is as good as a time as any. I turn my body to face her; she looks at me questioningly. I pick out one of her scars on her face; the one above her left eyebrow looks like it was the most brutal so I start there. I lift my hand slowly, bringing it to her face. As usual, she flinches as if I am going to backhand her. I pause so that she can see that I mean her no harm. Once she relaxes a little I move my hand forward and gently trace the scar with my finger. She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, obviously nervous to have me this close.

"How did you get that?" I ask.

She just stares at me, never answering. I move to a scar by her ear, and again trace it with my finger.

"How about this one?" I ask.

She responds so quietly that I can barely hear her. "The shower."

"The shower?" I question.

"Yes, I am...really klutzy." She lets out a nervous laugh and shakes her head. "I'm sure you've noticed." I have; she falls over thin air.

"I slipped in the shower when I was, I dunno, probably ten and landed on the shelf in the shower," she says, pointing to the scar. I am a little shocked at her answer, how easy it comes out. It's the most information she has given about herself. I stop, realizing that everything I have asked in these past weeks has been about her current situation, it seems that she doesn't seem to mind talking about the past as much. I decide to test my theory and try again. There is a scar on the right side of her top lip; again, I slowly trace it.

"This one? How did this one happen?" I ask. Her eyes fill with tears, and she shakes her head unwilling to speak. I feel bad; I don't like to see her cry.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what has happened to you, but I am so sorry that it did." It's true, and it's the most honest thing I have ever said. I hate whoever has broken this girl. She looks up and a tear escapes her eye; she quickly brushes it away.

"Thank you," she says. I just nod. I assume the conversation is over and return my attention back to the water. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her hand coming across the bench. I feel her finger on my cheek. She touches a scar that I have had for years.

"This one?" she asks. This is the first time she's touched me, and it is doing crazy things to me. Her fingers are so soft against my skin. I fight the feelings, not wanting to get any deeper in this complicated mess. I clear my throat and attempt to clear my head then answer her.

"When I was fifteen, this older kid, he...uh...was trying to steal my shoes. I wouldn't give them up without a fight, and he pulled a knife on me." She gasps. When things like this happen it proves to me that she is't homeless. Stolen shoes and knife fights are nothing out here; if that makes her gasp, then I'd better keep the other stories to myself.

"Did he?" she asks.

"Did he what?"

"Steal them... your shoes?" I laugh; I tell her about a knife fight that I was in and she asks about the damn shoes.

"Yeah, he did." I decide I don't want to talk about it anymore, so I ask her the question that I have wanted to ask all this time.

"Bella." She looks my direction. "What are you running from?" She tenses and turns away, but I continue on. "Whatever it is, it can't be that bad. I'm sure your parents are worried." She laughs bitterly but doesn't face me. I say nothing, giving her space and time. After a while she turns to me.

"What about you, what are you running from?" She asks demandingly. I am instantly on the defensive. This is a new side to her that she hasn't shown yet. I don't talk about my past. Jake knows the most and that's not very much.

"I'm not running from anything Bella," I say sternly, so that she knows the subject is closed.

"So is that what you think? I'm a spoiled brat that ran away from my parents?" She's pissed; I've never heard her sound so forceful. I'm not sure why she is so upset.

"You don't know anything, Edward. Nothing," she says, crossing her arms, her body language shutting me out completely.

"So tell me," I plead. "You have been following me for weeks, and you've given me nothing. You're right; I know nothing," I say feeling frustrated and exasperated.

"Do you want me to leave? I understand if you do Edward. I appreciate everything you have done, but I can't... not now. Maybe someday, maybe I will be able to tell you, but not now. If you want me to go though... I understand." Her voice has softened; the anger has passed. Do I want her to go? I know I should say yes; my life would be so much less complicated. The truth is though, no, I don't want her to go.

"No, I don't want you to go. I'm sorry. I'm just trying to understand." It's the truth.

"I know, but I just... I can't," she says, unwilling to look at me. I don't push her again. I'm

glad I asked though. She was forceful and said more than two words. I hope that from this point on she comes out of her shell around me.

It's getting dark and starts to rain. We go by the Mission to see if there are any beds left. They say they can take Bella, but not me. That's fine, I don't mind; I would rather her have the bed.

"I'll meet you back here tomorrow morning," I say as I turn to leave.

"No!" She all but shouts. I turn to see what's wrong.

"I'm not staying if you aren't. I want to stay with you." I'm not surprised, and honestly, I wasn't looking forward to spending the night alone. I hate to admit it, but I have gotten used to her company. I walk away, knowing she will follow me. I decide to go to back to the place we stayed the first night. When I get there, I'm disappointed to see that there are three other people already in the alley. It's raining too hard to go somewhere else at this point, so we're just going to have to deal with neighbors.

I step into the alley, and Bella is right behind me. When she sees the three men, she stiffens. The reasons I can think of as to why men would frighten her so much make me see red. I push those thoughts aside, deciding that we need to be settled for the night. I step in and don't feel her presence behind me. I turn to see her frozen at the mouth of the alley. She's scared shitless to be around these men, but we can't get soaked tonight; this will have to do. I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her close to me. I'm unsure as to how she'll react. I expect the worst, but hope that she will find some comfort in my protection. She gasps and stiffens, looking at me shocked. Quickly though, she relaxes and leans into me. We make our way to the back of the alley, and one of the assholes makes a fucking catcall at her. She stiffens and leans into me more.

"Shut the fuck up," I spit at him. He mutters a "whatever" but doesn't bother us.

The only open space is between two of the men; I don't like it. I always try to give myself an out in case I need one. Having Bella with me is making me more paranoid than usual. I eye the men warily. I recognize two of them as harmless bums who have been on the streets of Portland for as long as I can remember. The third, the fucker that made the catcall at Bella, I've never seen him before. His presence makes me nervous.

We slide down the wall, and Bella quickly scoots away from me. I don't expect her to dive into my arms, but I was hoping that some ice was broken. We don't talk, both of us nervous about our company. I hide it from her though, wanting her to sleep. I lean over and whisper to her.

"I know them; it's fine. Sleep." She looks at me, I see trust in her eyes, she nods closing her eyes. It was a lie though. I don't know the jerk sitting across from me, and he's making me nervous. His eyes are glued on Bella; I don't fucking like it. I decide at that moment that I will not be sleeping tonight. I can't take the chance of anyone hurting her.

It must be hours later that I am slapping my face, trying to stay awake. The fucker across from me is waking up every so often and immediately looking to see if I am awake. Every time I am, and am staring the motherfucker in the eye.

About an hour later Bella starts to stir. She has had nightmares often; sometimes, she screams and cries. I usually just ignore her, or wake her up. I pray that she doesn't have one tonight, we don't need any attention on us. She's starting to shake and mumble; the talking will start soon. If she wakes these bums up they will be pissed, and I am not trying to fight tonight. I reach my hand over and smooth her hair, nervous, not knowing how she will react to my touch. She calms a little, leaning into my hand. Not too long later she starts in again, this time louder, she sounds like she is pleading.

"No, please, no! Mi dispiace! Si prega di lasciarmi andare!" Fuck she is speaking the other language again. What the hell am I supposed to do if I can't even fucking understand her? I look over, and the man to my right is stirring. I decide that I have to do something to calm her down, keep her quiet. I reach over and smooth her hair again.

"Shhhh it's ok, I'm here. Bella, calm down." I continue to stroke her hair and her face softly. She not only calms but also shifts and lays her head on my chest wrapping one arm around my waist. I'm in shock and hope that she doesn't freak out when she wakes up like this. After a few minutes she starts in again.

"Shhhh, it's ok," I say, running my hand up and down her back.

"Mmm, Edward," she sighs in her sleep. Fuck. What am I getting myself into? I'm in way too deep with this girl. I sit against the wall gently pounding my head against it.

For the next hour or so, the nightmares seem to stop. She mumbles nonsense once in a while and keeps repeating the word "Aiutatemi". I decide that I have to know what she is saying.

When the sun just barely starts to rise, the man that I don't know, the one that has been staring at Bella, gets up and leaves. As he leaves, he shoots me a dirty look and flips me off. I decide that since he's gone, and Bella is safe in my arms, I will try to get a couple hours of sleep. I repeat what Bella says in her sleep over and over, the words sounding so desperate, so sad. "Aiutatemi".

The Italian phrases might give you tiny clues... ;)

See you next Monday!

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