A/N: Sorry this has taken a while, I have been sick and editing just isn't as fun when your sick. Plus FF was being difficult, it wasn't letting me add this chapter and it took about 3 days for it to let me! I want to say a HUGE shout-out to my beta- PisceanPal23, she rocks as always!
I have to say how amazed I am by the reviews for the last chapter, so many of you felt it was a seriously sad chapter, which surprisingly was not my intention, but I like how you, my wonderful readers, see things that I may not notice I write into this story. I continue to be amazed by those that put this story as a favorite or on alert, you make my day!
Last chapter I recognized my anonymous reviewers, so this chapter I want to *wave* to those who have faithfully reviewed: Bethflower, ecullensgurl, sholtsclaw and last but not least- Mineola! I get giddy when I see your reviews and there are not enough words to express how kind and generous you all are. Your encouragement and excitement for this story keep me writing.. so to all of you guys.. this one is for you.
At last- Disclaimer- I do not own Twilight or the characters, ohh how I wish I did!
Please review and ENJOY!
Crisis of Faith
The high I felt from hearing her voice lasted me quite a while. But the pride and the approval had me searching for ways to hear her again. As I finished searching Montana and crossed over into South Dakota I let my mind wander thinking what I could do to make it happen. Both times that I had heard her was after I had done something charitable, even selfless. Was that the key? That seemed unlikely, but the evidence was too strong.
Yet the notion of me becoming some crusader of justice or whatever had me laughing. How could I be that? I was just a soulless vampire, living out a damned half-life. That I was able to be a savior for unsuspecting humans seemed wrong and ironic all at once. How many times did she try to tell me that she believed I was more than I was?
I felt as if my thoughts were going around in an endless circle and it was tiring. I tried to push them away, but they became the new buzzing in my brain. Even if what I was thinking was right, did I want take time away from searching for Victoria to try and play the hero? Didn't I owe it to her to use ever y last minute I had to make this world safer for her? That seemed to be a better use of my time and energy.
With a renewed interest and focus, I concentrated on the search for Victoria. In the Dakotas I found a few stray scents but they were faint and I was unable to follow them for any real distance. An early winter snowstorm forced me to stay in a hotel in Fargo. Even for vampires it was hard to see in a blinding blizzard. The snow wasn't the problem, it was the variable wind; it made tracking scents nearly impossible. This would be my last stop before I trekked into Minnesota.
The hotel was nothing too fancy, but I was lucky to find a room. The storm had forced travelers to stay inside and hotel rooms were filling up fast. I looked over my clothes and realized I would need to get some new clothing. I had been wearing the same few outfits for the past month or so and they were showing their wear. The storm was scheduled to dissipate by morning, so I would have to wait till then.
Once in the room I set out my usual belongings and the routine continued. Seeing the squares crossed off the map left me feeling unsettled. I had yet to find even a trace of Victoria and I wondered if I was going about this all wrong. Was there a better way for me to track her? For about the thousandth time I cursed myself for not paying more attention to Victoria that awful night. I tried to reason that James was the bigger threat at the time, but that did nothing to lessen my guilt. Knowing I was spinning my wheels in useless frustration I continued with the rest of my routine.
There were no reports of suspicious disappearances or murders in the nearby area which was a relief. I expanded my search to include the top third of Minnesota and found no such news there either. I did find a blurb about a string of missing people in a major Minnesota city, but with further searching I found nothing that would indicate that a vampire was to blame. I momentarily planned to head there after the storm let up, but realized I was grasping at straws and resigned myself to continue with the set search pattern.
With my routine done and a blinding snowstorm outside, I found myself with a few uninterrupted hours and that terrified me. I worked hard to keep myself busy. When I found myself with too much free time I never knew what to expect. I worried that the blackness or numbness would consume and I didn't want that to happen. Flipping on the TV wasn't much of a distraction as the storm made reception almost non-existent. I paced the small room but that only left me feeling more anxious.
My eyes fell to her note and it got me thinking when I last heard her voice. I still had no clues as to what triggered my mind- or was it my sub-conscious- to generate her voice. The argument that it tied directly to my actions had my mind whirling. I tried to think as rationally and logically as possible.
Both times I had heard her voice was after I had done some charitable action. Both times she expressed pleasure in my actions. What spurred me to act in the first place? I thought back to each incident and saw a common thread, albeit a very thin one. In some way I was reminded of her.
The first was too similar to the incident in Port Angeles. The idea that another woman would experience the terror I knew she felt seemed wrong. No woman should feel anything less than safe, secure and loved. The second was harder to fit into my theory, or maybe I was more in denial. If I forced myself to be honest, I could have sworn I saw her looking out from the eyes of the child. It was why I left the hall in such a hurry. It couldn't have been the color for they were too dissimilar; light versus dark. No, it had more to do with the depth of the eyes. Looking into the child's eyes reminded me of how far I could see into her eyes. Before her I had never found human eyes expressive, certainly not as a gateway to a person's spirit.
But when I first looked into those warm chocolate-colored eyes, I realized just how much you could see into the person just by their eyes. That child held the same depth and expressiveness and it unnerved me. I was saddened by the notion that a mere illness could wipe those eyes off the face of the earth and it felt all wrong, especially in light of the fact that a solution was possible, just not financially feasible. If all it boiled down to was money, that was something I could fix and that was my motivation to act.
So maybe I needed to feel a connection to my angel, couple that with a selfless act and maybe I had the recipe to hear her voice. It sounded feeble and extremely pathetic. But in the last month or so, I had my share of pathetic moments. Keeping my thoughts in the morose vein I pondered what other benefits my actions could bring besides hearing her voice.
If I subscribed to certain religious ideologies, I could delude myself into believing that I could erase my huge karmic debt or pave my way back into heaven. If I did enough good deeds, could it possibly erase the years of killing? I had serious reservations on that thought, but my mind refused to let it go. Before I knew it, thoughts of being able to share the afterlife with her overloaded my mind. My body tingled with anticipation and hope and for the first time in a long while I dared to dream.
That was how I spent my night, vacillating between hope and despair; longing and eagerness; light and dark. By the morning light I tried to shake the small sliver of promise of being allowed in heaven. But it refused to be dislodged. If I knew that there existed a possibility to enter heaven upon my final death, wouldn't I do everything I could to make it a reality? Of course I would, without any hesitation. Yet, there was still the little issue that I had no soul and there was nothing I could do to change that fact. So even if I had repaid my debt and could be deemed worthy of heaven, my lack of soul would keep me eternally barred.
I continued to argue with myself as I repacked my bag and inventoried my clothing. I threw away the most tattered items and made a mental note of all I needed to replace. I tried to ignore the nagging question that was floating in the back of my mind. It was a ludicrous thought and one that I already had an opinion on. So why did I suddenly feel I was having a crisis of faith, per se? I seriously hoped not. It was poor timing and I could only deal with some much stress. Maybe that was it, I was cracking under all the stress I was feeling and I was going insane.
A small bark of a laugh came out and I shook my head at my own amusement. I would prefer to think I was insane than to start to question my personal ideology. But insane or not, the lingering question remained. What if I am wrong? What if Carlisle and she were right, what if I did have a soul? That question buzzed loudly in my head and it was hard to ignore. Maybe I was grasping at straws, the need to know that I would have some kind of eternity with her over-rode my logical ideals. Ugh, my head was spinning in never ending circles and I no longer wanted to think about it.
I stepped out into the frosty morning, thankful that low storm clouds still hung in the area. The entire city was blanketed in over a foot of snow, but the blizzard winds last night created drifts that were several feet higher. There were people digging themselves out and helping their neighbors. Kids bundled up against the bitter temperatures played outside and I smiled at their squeals of joy.
I made my way to the only open department store and replaced the needed clothing items. I hoped that Alice was not paying attention to what I was buying. She would be mortified that I was purchasing less than top of the line designer clothes, but my options are limited in a town such as this. With little tree cover to help me make a fast getaway, I headed towards the car rental and hoped they were open. Then I could head into Minnesota, turn in the car and resume my search.
Just my luck, the rental place was open but there were several other people waiting to get cars as well. A quick scan of the clerk's thoughts revealed he only had about a dozen cars left to rent out. Seeing I was the fifth person in line, I breathed a bit easier knowing I would soon be on my way. By the time it was my turn, I was surprised that there was a decent car available. It had nothing on my Volvo, but it had enough power to get me going. I signed the papers and was handed the keys to the Escalade. For appearances I had to wait for the car to warm up before heading out.
Soon enough I was headed down the main highway where there was only one lane open and plenty of traffic. I knew I could navigate the other lane just fine, but it would be a bit conspicuous so I got in line with the rest of the cars. I pulled out my phone to look up alternate routes that would allow me to go faster. Finding that the snow severely limited my options I stuck with the road I was on.
With nothing to occupy my time, I went back to my earlier musings. There were no easy answers or conclusions, just more questions and even more uncertainty. So I went back to what I wanted to happen, which I knew without any hesitation was to hear her voice. My past actions showed me that doing something of a charitable fashion could accomplish that. I could do that. So did I even need to worry about the rest? Couldn't I just forget all about the confusion of souls and heaven and the afterlife and just be in the present. That seemed to be a fair conclusion and one I could easily live with. So why was my mind constantly throwing the questions back in my face? I am sure it had to do with the small glimmer of hope that sparked to life last night. No matter what I thought or felt, it refused to be extinguished.
I was pulled from my reverie as an SUV was speeding down the heavily snow covered lane. I watched the vehicle attempt to maintain control of the car as he began to slip and slide on the road. The cars in front of me began slowing down in an attempt to avoid him should he lose complete control. So it was no surprise that a few seconds later as I continued to observe the SUV that I knew he was going to slide into the lane full of cars. When he did, there was chaos.
I slowed even more to avoid being part of the accident unfolding several car lengths in front of me. The SUV in its attempt to stay in its lane overcorrected and spun into the right lane and hit a minivan. The van then spun out into the ditch and rolled several times before settling right side up. The SUV ended up on its side in the other ditch. The two cars in front of me slammed on their brakes too hard trying to miss the accident and they ended up rear-ending each other. I managed to slow down enough to be able to pull over. In a split second, I decided here was my chance to see if my theories were right.
I exited the car and went to the van which was closest to me. I could hear kids crying, another person moaning and I smelled the blood. I ducked my head into my shoulder to take a quick inhale of air and held my breath. If there was too much blood I would need to find a way to leave the scene, I could not risk exposure this late in the game.
Coming up to the van I saw the kids I had heard were in the back of the van still buckled into their car seats. Another quick scan of them revealed no injuries so I turned my attention to the driver and passenger. The driver was male, appeared unconscious and was the source of the blood I smelled. There were cuts on his face and his leg looked odd, most likely broken. The moaning came from the passenger, a female who was mostly alert.
She spotted me and her eyes went wide and her heart began to pound harder. I slowed my approach towards her and held out my hands in a gesture of comfort.
"Are you ok? Are you hurt? I am here to help." My voice was low and soothing. I softened my gaze to lessen any fear she may be feeling. I averted my eyes and began to look for obvious injuries. Spotting none I turned back to her, waiting to see if she would respond.
"No, I don't think I am hurt, just freaked out. My kids! Are they hurt? Why are they crying? I can't see them." Pure panic flowed out of her as she tried to twist to look at her kids. The maternal instinct in her was strong.
"They look fine, just scared I bet. Can you get out of the car and then you can help me get them out of their seats." I had used up all my air talking and when I sucked in a quick breath, I found that the blood did not bother me, too much. So I kept breathing through my nose to help lessen the potency.
At mention of her kids and getting out of the car, the woman calmed and began to tug on her seatbelt. By this time, a few more people came by to help. One had asked me what they could do.
"Could you check the driver, he appears to be hurt and unconscious. Do we know if someone called 911?" He shouted the question back to the people who were now standing up at the edge of the road. I heard the affirmative answer that someone was currently on the phone with emergency responders. My attention went back to the lady as she struggled with her seat belt. I could hear frantic thoughts as she was unable to free herself.
"Do you need help getting unbuckled? I could try." She looked at me, trying to figure out if I meant to harm her, her thoughts a jumbled mess of concern, worry and fear. Slowly she nodded yes and I reached over her to get at the buckle. I pretended to struggle and then just ripped it out of the latch and helped her get out of the van. Once free she rushed to her kids and worked with another person to free them.
I walked over to the driver and the one I had sent to help. He had managed to open the door, remove the belt and push the seat back. He looked at a loss for what to do next; it was up to me to help the driver.
I addressed the man quickly. "He looks like he has a broken leg and multiple cuts. See if you can find blankets and something for me to splint his leg with, I am worried he may go into shock." He seemed to jump at my words, as if I had frightened him, but I could not worry about that, the driver was not doing well.
I took his pulse and noticed it was steady but weak. He was starting to shiver from the cold and the blood loss would not help him stay warm either. I looked in the back of the van and saw one of the children's blankets. I ripped it into strips to bind up some of the cuts on his arms and head. I ripped open the leg on his pants to get a better look at his leg.
The bone had not broken through the skin and I was thankful for that. It would have been too much blood for me to handle. But there were shards of glass that had created large gashes in his thighs. I made longer bandages and gently wrapped them to staunch the bleeding.
Just then the other man came back with several blankets and some PVC pipes. I motioned for him to come closer and issued several directives.
"Take those car seats out and lay a blanket down. We need to move him to the seat so I can stabilize his leg." I was surprised by how quickly he followed my directions, only a few minutes had passed and he was helping me move the driver from the front seat to the back. The easiest way to do that was to recline the front seat as far back as it would go and gently side him over the seat and onto the back seat.
I cautioned that we needed to move slowly and carefully to avoid causing any more pain than was needed. I could tell from the driver's thoughts that he was unconscious and could feel little of the pain he was in. I was extremely thankful for that.
As we were moving him, the passenger came running over to us, her thoughts worried and anxious.
Oh my goodness, is he ok? "Gary? Gary, are you ok?" She gripped his hand and held on tightly. She looked from me to the other man, frantic. "What's wrong with him?" She stared at me and was warring with the desire to protect her husband and flee for her own safety. I made to open my mouth but was cut off by the other person.
"Ma'am, he's hurt, but this nice young man is helping him. You need to let us help him until the ambulance gets here. You can stay near him, but let this man help your husband." His words were soft and gentle and they instantly put her at ease. She nodded a jerky yes and let go of Gary's hand.
Finding my voice I spoke to her, "He will be all right. I just want to stabilize him and keep him warm." Her eyes locked with mine and her thoughts jarred me with their possessiveness. Hurt him, and I will hurt you. I nodded to her, answering her thoughts and turned back to her husband.
I gave the rest of the shredded blanket to the man helping me and asked that he make more strips to help me hold the PVC pipe in place. I noticed that the wife had a belt and I asked her for it. It would provide much more stability than the strips of blanket. Without removing her eyes from her husband she removed her belt with one hand and gave it to me.
I went to work, placing the PVC pipe on either side of his leg and tying the blanket strips to hold it in place. I then used the belt and more strips to provide more stability. I placed the remaining few blankets on him and checked his pulse. It was a bit stronger than before but still weaker than it should be. I moved out of the van and gestured for the wife to be close to her husband.
"I have done all that I can until help arrives. Talk to him, keep him calm." The look of gratitude from her floored me. It was rare that anyone had ever looked at me like that, not since Bella. Her name flew from my thoughts before I could contain it. Pain and sadness seared me and I hissed at the sensation. I stumbled a few steps from the van, fearing that I was about to lose control of my emotions.
I had not thought her name in so long, not knowing what it would do to me and now I had my answer. I closed my eyes to the agony and once again I wished I could just cry. Instead my shoulders heaved with the force of my guilt and torment.
In the distance I could hear the ambulance and I was thankful that I would be able to make my escape shortly thereafter. I struggled to find any semblance of calm, knowing that I needed to present an air confidence when I spoke to the paramedics. I focused on the distant wail of sirens and counted down the minutes before they would arrive.
Exactly three and a half minutes later, the ambulance arrived. The bystanders on the side of the road directed them toward the van. I made my way back to the van and met the paramedic there. He stepped inside the van and lifted the blankets.
"What are his injuries," he inquired at the wife and me in general.
"He has a broken leg and minor cuts and abrasions. There are deeper wounds from glass on his upper thigh. His pulse has been steady but weak. His respirations have been steady. He has not regained consciousness." I spoke with firm conviction.
Wow. I wonder if the kid has some EMT experience. His thoughts gave me the perfect cover should anyone question my assessment.
'That was a pretty good run down of his condition. Are you in medical school or something?" I smiled at him and wondered if he would be surprised to know I hold two medical degrees. Instead I stuck with the idea that he unknowingly provided.
I shook my head before answering, "No, but I am in my last year of EMT training." I gestured to the man he was administering IV fluid to, "Looks like I was in the right place at the right time."
"I would have to agree. If your actions here are any indication, you will have no trouble finding work after training is done." He looked back at the driver as he continued to speak, "Your assessment of him was spot on and he will be back in good health in no time."
I nodded my thanks and slowly crept back towards the road. I watched as he secured a better splint and called for the backboard. They secured the driver to it and slowly made their way back up to the waiting ambulance and placed him on the gurney. With all eyes on the paramedics, I continued to silently head towards my car. A quick look around and when I noticed that no one was looking for me, I drove away from the scene.
A breath that I did not realize I was holding exploded out of me and the pain I held at bay reared its ugly head. My head swam with the force of all the loneliness and grief that thinking her name had conjured up. It took me by surprise, but again, everything to do with her took me by surprise. I knew that I needed to find some calm. I had a mission I was desperate to complete and I could not afford a meltdown.
But fate always liked to play with me and it was no wonder what finally calmed me down- her voice.
You did a good thing back there. I am proud of you. A monster would never have helped. You are a good man.
The pride in her voice was like a balm on my spirit. I savored each word that she spoke. I stored it with all the other memories and words she had ever spoken to me. I dared not believe what she was saying, but instead focused on the fact that once again I had heard her.
With the knowledge that I had some idea how to hear her voice, I was bound and determined to make sure that I heard it as often as I could, I did not care if I needed to play hero. If that is what she wanted of me, I would give it. I would do anything for that voice. I could deny her nothing, I was her puppet to command as she saw fit. She alone held sway over my life and it could be no other way. Secure in my new found knowledge I continued my journey and allowed a small smile to pull at the corners of my lips. Once again I had found refuge in my angel.
A/N: Please review! I read them all and to all signed ones I respond. As always I send a little hint as to what comes next! Reviews are my brand of crack.. give me a fix! :)