Bookends By: Bella's Executioner.

Rating: M- this means if you're under 16 you are agreeing to break your own ToS by reading this and I'm not your mother so be responsible for yourself.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the sole owner of the world of Twilight. She is Bella's creator. I am Bella's Executioner.

A/N: Bookends is the very first fanfiction I started writing. It's been on this site, moved and come back. It has errors, fuck ups and lots of proofs that I'm human but it also has all of my heart and soul in it. I welcome you into this world of pain and love and hope that you enjoy. I also welcome your thoughts as you read—pm me or review and I'll be happy to discuss the story with you.

Chapter 3: A Time of Innocence

-**-Bookends-**-

EPOV (Seattle)

I was probably the only thirteen-year-old guy who pined for school.

This tiny apartment was starting to smell. I buried my face in my pillow again and prayed for a fast suffocation. Death would be better than living here.

Who knew that my hopes of Tanya getting arrested would come to fruition? And who knew that it would've been anything but good news when she was gone. But then when your only remaining legal guardian is fucked enough in the head to scream about her poor baby boys at home while she was resisting arrest there isn't much hope that CPS won't come out to investigate.

I sighed. I'd been sleeping on the couch for the last four nights, each night I did the same damn thing. I would try to escape in to the oblivion of dreams only to get lightheaded from the god awful stench and frustrated by my mind. Then I, just like I had four other times this week, would look at the clock to see that it was exactly midnight while I went out on to the fire escape to clear my head.

Seattle wasn't the worst city in the world to live in, but the parts that I had lived in were not the most desirable. It had only taken two hours. Two hours from when that shit for brains of a mother stumbled out of the house to when Jazz and I were relocated in to foster care.

Who knew the system could work that fast? If there was a rapist out on the streets it would take years for them to find him and lock his ass up.

It wasn't like we would have to go to an orphanage in the country or anything, but we didn't have to be here either. We had family, even an upstanding member of the medical community, who would take us in without a word. But I didn't want to force us on him.

My uncle Carlisle had bailed us out more than once in our lives. It felt like a burden to even think about him right now. If only my mother could clean her damn ass up.

If only I could just take Jazz away and support the two of us on our own.

But running away wasn't my thing. I couldn't risk Jazz and me being separate permanently. So we ended up here. In the rundown disgustingly odorus one room apartment of the Jones family. I highly doubted the validity of that last word. Mr. and Mrs. Jones hardly spoke to each other- unless it was for Mr. Jones to belittle his shrinking wife. And their one child spent his whole day playing with a kid down the hall.

I sighed again as the crisp night air pushed the threat of drowsiness away from my eyes. I shouldn't be putting us through this. I was lucky as shit that the court didn't split us up. This was only Jazz's second stint in custody so he didn't understand what a palace this shit hole was. And I should have said something at the social worker's office when she asked if there was anyone we could go to. But the shame was just too fresh.

Sure I knew that eventually, if those in the system were doing their damn job, they would locate Carlisle and decide to send us to him. But that was just my half assed excuse for not speaking up sooner. The truth was that I didn't want to look my uncle in the eyes one more time over the shit in my life.

My mom's brother was probably the most compassionate guy you could ever hope to meet. Fucking bleeding heart. But after the last time he took us in, I swore I wouldn't be a burden to Carlisle anymore.

Jazz couldn't remember a time before our winter breaks in Forks. Little prick had it easy. But I could remeber.

I could remember back to when Ed and Tanya Masen were rich-part of that better slice of life on the other side of the train tracks. I could remember when Uncle Carlisle took out a loan through dear old dad to finish med school. And with just as much clarity I could remember the car accident that ended my father's career as the top plastic surgeon in the Pacific Northwest.

I snuck the cigarette I lifted from Mr. Jones briefcase out and lit it. My mother once lectured me on the ills of under aged smoking. Like I gave a flying fuck what she had to say about that. If a cigarette was the worst thing I put in my mouth at the age of thirteen, it was still a far cry better than the shit she used to plow between her teeth when she was young.

My father might have been rich when he met her, but she was far from a socialite in her youth. Maybe it was because she and Carlisle were from slums that made this place look like a castle. And maybe it was because Grandpa Jack used to make her feel like the worthless shit beneath his feet. But my mother's talents were acquired at a very young age.

Strip clubs, back seat hand jobs, anything to score some shit and escape this life. Uncle Carlisle tolerated her because she was family. I could sympathize with that. But he made something of himself in spite of it all. All she ever did was take and move on.

Fuck, Carlisle shipped her ass off to live with the Masens when she was still a kid. Worst damn decision he ever made really. Ed Masen and Tanya Cullen should never have met.

I wouldn't be here now if uncle Carlisle had just found a place for Tanya in Forks.

I sneered as I blew a long stream of smoke into the chilly darkness. It looked like it was going to rain- wonder why that thought comforted me. I never really gave a shit about the weather.

I never really gave a shit about anything. Most of the world didn't impress me. I had lived in a two-story mansion and rode in the back seat of a black Lexus for the first five years of my life. And I had lived through terror filled nights of hearing my mother get beat so hard she couldn't move the next day.

I wasn't some pussy who wanted to wallow in that shit. I was just numb.

A raindrop hit the end of my cigarette and I scowled. I put it out before I had to wrestle with Mother Nature- seemed even the environment had an opinion on my delinquent habits. My hands were nervous without something to keep them busy.

We didn't get to bring much with us on our way across town the other night. I didn't have a chance to grab my sketchpad. It was killing me to have to deal with this shit in my head and not on paper. I closed my eyes and breathed in the smell of fresh rain. It was soothing. Like a lullaby. Like the sounds of a soft giggle.

I hummed a melody that I had been composing for a few years. I was musically inclined too, total case of social deficiency. I hadn't even thought of that piece in months. Behind my eyelids I could see the music's muse.

She was younger than she was now- younger than she was when I last saw her. But those eyes never changed. So open. So peaceful. So green.

I could almost smell her delicate scent- heather and rain. I could almost hear her soft voice humming along. She was always off pitch but it was sweet music to my ears. Suddenly that crooked smile that I tried to hide was spreading across my face. I could see her sleeping with her hands folded under her cheek. Her little lips were parted and her breath was even. And those magic eyes were dancing behind closed, pale, pink lids.

I opened my eyes with a sigh. My smile grew tight as I thought of her. Jazz's favorite game- what was she doing right now. It was her second to last night at that moron's house. She would be sitting up watching cartoons. She'd be trying to convince herself that there was no such thing as ghosts.

And she'd be fucking crying because in nearly three years this was the first day I let her hopes down.

My first instinct was defense.

I never promised her anything. I never wanted her to fucking write me her notes in the first place. I only sent the apple picture out of pity.

But then as I thought of that first reply to her first letter that defense was weakened.

I was anxious for her to respond. The apple was one of my favorites. It was one of the few things I could sketch well. And I had drawn it in response to a very happy memory.

She probably didn't remember it. No one but me probably even noticed it back then. But the first time I met Bella, she gave me an apple. It was years ago... five years ago to be exact. We'd been placed in an orphanage in Canada when mother dearest was caught trying to buy drugs across the border with us in the car.

Naturally, uncle Carlisle had picked us up, and brought us back to Forks to stay with him.

I remember feeling the anger and fear building inside of me on the entire ride to his house. Part of me wished he'd tell us that he was going to keep us. He'd adopted a little girl from the orphanage the day he picked us up. I remember wishing he'd just announce that all three of us got to stay.

But he didn't.

I wasn't overly familiar with Forks, or any of the residents of the town prior to that winter. I'd only visited his house in Forks a handful of times before that day. And it had always been with my parents. The house to the right was always dark and empty when we visited.

The Swan kids visited their father in Victoria for holidays so they were just people my cousin talked about- I'd never laid eyes on Emmett and Bella Swan before that night.

I remember practically choking on rage when I got out of the car. Carlisle promised that we wouldn't have to stay in Forks long. That wasn't music to my ears. I was such an angry kid- was still a very angry kid when it came to the lack of control I had over what happened to my brother and me.

I was ready to just punch something-destroy something just for the sake of releasing some of the shit storm inside of me.

That all melted away when I saw her.

Bella.

She was just standing there on the porch, hiding behind her mom. I didn't want to break shit while Bella was around. I actually felt... oddly at peace just standing near her.

She gave me an apple when she visited the next morning. She actually brought over a basket full of them, but she made a point to lay one in front of me at the kitchen table.

That postcard was of my favorite memory. I didn't get to stay in Forks, but for a minute I felt like I was welcomed.

It was a little nerve racking to hope that she didn't find it stupid. I remember growing desperate to have more of her rambling explanations sent just to me. And when I got her second note I became entirely dependent on Bella's quiet persistence.

I thought about all of the personal pictures that I mailed to her without so much as a second thought and that defense mechanism was disabled entirely.

Fuck. I'd let her down.

This was going to hurt worse than dealing with my shit ass living situation. I didn't want to feel it. I shoved my self back through the tiny window and pulled a paper tower off the roll in the kitchen. I could hear Jazz snoring in the corner as I sat back on the couch. Fucker could sleep anywhere anytime. I found a discarded pen on the coffee table and gripped it with a fury. My hands and eyes were moving faster than my neural processors. The towel grew moist in scattered tiny circles as my tears fell silently.

My heart, that fucking numb part of my chest that I usually ignored, felt like someone was squeezing it tight.

I wanted to run down to the post office and FedEx this shit over night to her. I wanted someone to make an act of congress that said this was the most important piece of mail that would ever be delivered. I should have just spoke up and gone to stay with Carlisle so that I could have access to stamps. I should have dropped two pictures in the mail for the last two months just in case.

A tortured sob tore from my chest and my free hand crumbled the drawing in to a big wad. I threw the pen on the floor and pulled my knees up to my chest.

I slapped my forehead against my knees to stop the tears. I was crying for more than just her hurt feelings now, but her peace of mind was so tangled with my own by this point that there was fresh guilt to pepper the pain too. This was the hard-core shit that was going to tear my sanity from my mind. This was the toxic sludge that made my soul so fucking black. This was every bruise on my back and every slap in my face. Ever broken arm and every time I stood up for my mom.

This was watching my dad's body go into the earth and feeling guilty for enjoying the sight.

And this, of course, was the moment that the little prick stirred in his sleep.

"You okay?" he whispered from the darkness. I clutched my arms tighter around my knees and clenched my eyes shut.

"FUCK OFF!" I spat through shaking lips. My breaths were ragged and I felt like I was gonna hurl. I could hear Jazz getting up. Then nothing. He must be standing there watching his pussy big brother have his breakdown- probably a little scared shitless over the sight. The thought made a hollow laugh reverberate in my chest. If I had a nickel for everything that scared me shitless...

"Do you know the number..." I heard Jazz say from far away. I looked up to see him talking on a cell phone in the kitchen. "Okay thanks, Al."

He hung up the phone and dialed a new number before returning his eyes to me. The look on my face actually made him jump.

"Dude calm down!" he said throwing his arms up and backing away. I glared at the phone since I knew he didn't have one.

"It's the old man's. I lifted it when you took the smokes." He shrugged and walked over to me with a determination on his face that I didn't appreciate. I was trying to get through my first total nervous breakdown and I would have preferred to not deal with his shit ass interruptions.

"Here," he said handing me the phone. I didn't have to ask who he was talking to- there was only one Al in Jazz's life. And I had a fairly good guess whose number was blinking back at me on the green glowing screen of the Nokia that was suddenly in my face.

Little prick.

"You know she's not sleeping."

I glared at the phone and then back up at him. I didn't like anyone, least of all my pissant baby brother, thinking they knew her just as well as I did. But the little cursor that disappeared and reappeared in a hypnotic rhythm was undermining my badassness. I was tired of being the tough guy right now. And just the hope of the sound of her voice was making me all menstrual and weepy.

I made a manly show of shoving him out of my way as I took the phone from him. I went back out to sit on the fire escape again and hit send.

I cringed with each dull buzz- it sounded like the phone was screaming in my ears. Maybe I was just sensitive to the sound because this was a stolen phone. Maybe it had to do with the fact that my tears were still rolling down my cheeks. And maybe it was because I was terrified of talking to her if she answered.

There was a good fifteen second lull where I was listening to the rings in the receiver and having a debate with myself that was fucking life altering. On the one hand was the hope that she didn't pick up. That way I could have some clean anger to help crust over this open wound. It would be so much damn easier to just go back to being pissed off. But then on the other hand was that desperation that was in the pit of my stomach to connect with her. It was the most intense fucking moment of my life. Each ring was met with baited breath.

Then on the fifth ring... "Hello?" Her voice was muffled and raspy.

Shit, she was asleep. I sat there like a cod opening and closing my mouth with no sound. Dumbass.

"Who is this?" God her voice was as sweet as candy. "Not funny Em," she grumbled. I laughed at that. I could imagine the wrinkles in her little brow when she scolded her mountain of a big brother.

"Edward?" ahe whispered. My breath caught and I nearly shit myself.

Holy Fuck! She recognized my laugh- over the phone.

"Yeah," I said like the dumbass that I was. Yeah? I've never called her before, barely spoke to her in person when I had the chance and all I could say when waking her up at one in the morning was yeah. I tried to move my lips again. Yeah, that was all I could say.

"Wow," she said, sounding a little like I felt.

I was kicking my own ass inside my head for not saying... something... anything. My brain to mouth synapses must have been fried in the emotional surge because there was plenty I wanted to say. I wanted to tell her about my shitty week. Hell, I wanted to give her nauseating detail about my entire fucked up life. I wanted to describe the way Jazz cooed at Al on the phone and hear her laugh. Fuck, I just wanted to say anything that would make her laugh. And I wanted to tell her I was sorry that she didn't get anything in the mail today- most of all I wanted to convey to her just how very sorry I was about that.

But I couldn't make my mouth say any of it.

"Are you okay?" She sounded genuinely worried about me.

Fuck. No one ever had that much concern in their voice when they asked me that- except maybe Carlisle. Fuck. Carlisle. Jazz had talked to Alice. We'd be moving to Forks by the end of the day. I shook my head and tried to focus on making my body answer her.

First, my brain processed the question. Was I okay? That was simple- she was there and I was here- no, there was nothing okay with that. Then, my lips parted and I nearly blew a fucking blood vessel to make sound leave my throat.

"No," I strangled out. She breathed an 'oh' and then there was silence. I picked at the crud on the hem of my jeans. I wanted the anger to come. How dare she pity me and not keep this conversation going with her mindless chatter. But the anger didn't come and there was just more pain.

"Sorry," I finally said unconsciously. And then I could hear why she wasn't speaking. Her little voice cracked and her breath hitched. She was crying.

It fucking broke my heart.

"Come home," was all she said. Her voice was tight and she sniffed as I nodded my head in agreement. Whether he came to get us or I had to just start walking when the sun came up I was going back to Carlisle in Forks today.

I just couldn't let her down again.

We stayed on the phone with each other for another hour. I never spoke and she would only say an occasional 'are you still there?' but it was nice. I could hear her breath flow in and out of my ear. I could imagine the smell of heather mixed with the now down pouring rain.

I told her goodbye when the banging came at the door. Carlisle must have chartered a helicopter to get here so fast. Strike that... his jet was probably always on stand-by.

Bella giggled when I told her I was on a stolen phone. Maybe it was a sign that puberty was finally affecting me but the sound of her feminine laugh made me feel all goofy like I wanted to do something stupid to have her giggle some more.

I hung up the phone, erased the memory of all calls and numbers dialed, and slid it back into Mr. Jones briefcase without being noticed. I didn't have anything to take with me so I slapped Jazz on the shoulder and we met our uncle at the door. He was there with two cops and the social worker- who was wearing her hair in sponge rollers and a big fluffy pink bathrobe.

You had to fucking love Carlisle.

Tenacity was a Cullen trait- so I guess Jazz and I did belong to the family. And the look in Carlisle's eyes was beyond tenacious.

"I believe you'll find that I am the legal guardian of these boys. I am their next of kin and am fully ready and willing to take them home with me right now." Carlisle waited for Mr. Jones to wake up enough to process his declaration. He shot me a glance and winked with a crooked smile of smugness.

Definitely related.

We were whisked away to the tarmac in less than twenty minutes. Carlisle kept insisting that we could stop by Tanya's house and collect our things but Jazz and I burst out laughing at the thought that we wanted any of that shit. Carlisle was snickering as he led us to the small private jet that waited for us in the early morning light.

One more reason to love the fucker, Carlisle could fly. This was his personal jet that he bought when he took up flying for something to do in his free time. On anyone else that would have looked fucking pretentious. On Carlisle it was just really fucking cool.

Alice was waiting for us when we got in to the cabin. Her hair was even shorter than before and stuck up in medusa like spikes all around her head.

"Hey squirt," I said when she threw her tiny arms around me. Alice was too damn happy for me to stand most of the time. For right now I was okay with the sugar coated PDA. Family was family I supposed.

She wasn't really our cousin- she was the girl Carlisle adopted all those years ago. Alice had been a hardcore orphan for most of her life and she was like a fucking moth to our flame from the moment she met us. Carlisle refused to leave her behind and was her father ever since.

I noticed that her brother, Jacob, wasn't along for the ride.

"High school boys and their hobbies," was all she offered. She bounced out of my arms and into the waiting ones behind me. Jazz liked being around Alice. There was no tension, no anger, she was all sugar and spice and everything nice. And the fact that she hung on his every word didn't hurt things either. They sat down on the built in couch tangled in an innocent hug.

I scanned the rest of the small aircraft stupidly. I knew she wouldn't be here- she wasn't even back in Forks yet. But watching Jazz get to relax with his girl in his arms made me deranged with the need to have my girl in my arms. That thought pulled me up short.

Bella was so not my girl. She wasn't my anything... was she?

"Good morning passengers," Carlisle's calm voice announced over the speakers.

I smirked- you just had to fucking love Carlisle.

"I would like to thank you all for flying Air-Cullen this morning. I have to ask that you please take your seats," he broke out of the staged voice to mention, "Ally can you show them how to buckle up?"

I scowled at the pixie bitch I knew how to fucking buckle my seatbelt.

"Looks like we are in for a smooth ride back to Forks, with one quick stop off in Victoria. Please refrain from running around the cabin and help yourself to the snack bar once I have turned off the fasten seatbelt sign. And again thank you for flying with us today and enjoy the flight."

The speaker dinged off as the jet roared to life. We flew down the runway and were weightless in no time. I watched as we headed in to the non-threatening rain clouds.

A stop in Victoria, huh.

There was only one thing in British Columbia that I needed to get. Alice's tinkling laughter wasn't even enough to annoy me as we headed north- towards Bella.