Chapter 28 Girls and Boys Come Out to Play
A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. After all of this, I can say, I own G&B.
Musical Inspiration: Breakable by Ingrid Michaelson & Let it Be Me by Ray Lamotagne – Link can be found on my profile.
Thank you to everyone who's read G&B. Your dedication means the world to me.
This final chapter is dedicated to TaylorMa and lovesfool87.
Epilogues to follow.
APOV
I should have been grateful for every inch of natural light exposure that slightly brightened my pallid, brutally extended hospital stay. No matter the fact that my pathetic excuse of a window, with its four-by-five foot spans and vertical blinds obstruction, didn't realistically allow much illumination to creep its way to my bedside. Now, however - after what seemed like ages without so much as stepping outside - I was reminded of just how incomparable feeling the sky's radiance upon one's own face truly was. In honor of that revelation, neither the inane wheelchair, which regulations required assist me from my former room to Red's plush leather backseat, nor the gauze bandage currently matting my shorn, black lock's re-growth could cloud this moment. I was, at last, bathing in a cool freedom.
To say my stay at the Seattle Children's Hospital had been ongoing seemed a gross understatement. In reality, it had taken them so long to release me that winter holiday was nearly upon us, breaking Fremont students free from behind fences and gates in only a few short days. Well, everyone expect the Hale/Swan's and lil' ol' me. Jasper, Rose and Bella would remain ensconced for the duration, their guardians planning to stop in for Christmas on their way to Belize. Since the accident, I'd only heard from my own parents twice, but it hardly mattered. This year's festivities would be about family, so I'd decided to stay behind with as much of mine as possible.
For today, it was strictly the girls who surrounded me; Bella helming the chair – pointing us homeward - and Rosalie maintaining the overt fawning and bitch quota. All was finally beginning to seem gloriously right again.
"The linens are fresh and I even had that lazy Clara scrounge up a few more pillows. And I know you say the bed is 'a hoochy king' but you'll still need your space - you know, to heal up good and proper. As I'm sure you can tell, Al, I don't mind one bit how put out this leaves me." Rose's warm cheek brushed each temple at either side of my head and two air-kisses resounded in the crisp, late morning breeze. Being that I couldn't turn to wrinkle my nose affectionately and witness her dramatics first-hand, my mind carved out a sassy pin-up likeness. Such an image equated perfectly with Rose all the way up to the look of amusement that was undoubtedly reflecting in her eyes.
These jokes, which Rosalie had been tossing around like men for the last day or so, weren't rooted in any form of truth. In fact, they were indicative of the exact opposite. If I weren't near, taking over her four-poster for the foreseeable future, the final hair would split for my loving bombshell. Any distance would certainly sever Rose down to the heels of the scalloped edged Chloe boots currently clicking her toward the driver's seat.
"Up and in -OY! Ali – tisk, tisk – watch your head." With only that, just as if my treatment had been nothing more complex or taxing a lesson than practicing nap-time in nursery school, I was torn from outside observations and thrust back into my predicament.
If Bella's hand hadn't played buffer between skull and door jam at precisely the moment it just had this day could have very easily ended with me right back inside that overdone hospital room. And that was how outside myself I'd become. No speed, no agility, barely an ounce of common sense. Spatially I could hardly gauge the distance from foot to ground, hand to eye, ass to toilette. This meant someone with me at all times, lest I fall and re-injure …. everything.
Just two thoughts for myself and I've already almost had to be recommitted.
With how far I still had to go in recovery remaining ever present moment-to-moment I'd begun to frequently reminisce over – and reevaluate – when I'd been able to walk, choose, play and daydream without the fear of critical trauma. I'd spent many days worth of hours attempting to relive these last months. Most specifically what I truly felt about the jump. Clarity was a gift currently Out of Stock to me in most capacities, yet the choices I'd made that overturned day could not, would not, dilute into the current muddy state of my mind. Blame held no allure any longer either. I'd been responsible for my own survival and actions for far too long to play the victimized pawn for any measurable amount of time. And it was still that singular instance, a day plucked out of someone else's life, that continued to rival the fog.
I'd regretted my lonely leap the moment my toes lifted off concrete. Not before - no, I'd been sure then. But, with my bodyweight acting as its own accelerant, the trip sailing through air had been spent disappointed that I'd not chosen differently. In the time between takeoff and landing, I'd also been unknowingly preparing for an impact no one could ever have steeled themselves against.
Regret and resilience; what a discordant pair.
But as the story goes, I was the unlucky daredevil who struck her head in an effort to level sentiments and ended up in an immobile, hypoxic coma. I'd say "sentiments" had become confused with sense except jumping was old hat. I'd been stupid for a really long time apparently.
And then, the actual coma; what a psychedelic circus of days that had been! Just how cognizant I'd remained while floating along, motionless to the outside world yet all the while stirring up true insight within my concussed head and awareness, would be unbelievable to anyone outside of my friends. Truthfully, it was hard for me to reconcile and I'd lived it.
How I'd managed to be so vividly present during what'd supposedly been a profound state of unconsciousness boggled me further every moment I attempted to delineate it. Noises, people, exact dialogue; every trifling instant that the general person automatically processes and stores - and ultimately takes for granted - was impossible to isolate and define. Similarly, I'd strained my inner sight to identify the woman depicted in my coma-drawing but she'd only become blurrier. So, until I was free to do a little Wiki hunt or physically able to put the emotion of it all to an enormous linen canvas, the how/what had been placed on the back burner. During my weeks of recuperation, however, the more meaningful why had taken on a life all its own and began to form something new within me.
I'd been deep in an alternate viewing platform, able to see my friends sans personal emotional sensitivities and overreactions. Instead, all I was attuned to was my love for them. Hearing them discuss me, and one another, without the kinetic ability to interject whatsoever, I found that natural judgment and comparisons of every word and relational dynamic were inaccessible. Frozen somewhere between understanding and grace, my base humanity was completely detached. As were my personally established definitions of all I'd ever known. The end result produced lessons I'd have to learn more than once; such was the needed correction for my misguided stance on "universal truths."
Bella and Jasper. Jasper and Rosalie. Rose and me. Myself and Edward. Edward and Emmett. Em and me. Myself and Bella. B and Rose. R&Em. B&E. A&J.
There is beauty in differing loves and issues and priorities and endings. And the purpose behind all of it is always changing. I don't feel as though I hold the monopoly of control over such symbiotic connections anymore. I'm Alice and what I see is for me, about me, through my Ali-filter. To attempt to cram the entire world's vision into my pint sized perspective would be sorely undercutting the magnitude of history, individuality, experience and dreams. Whenever passion is combined with any type of relationship there are no limits. My love is not their love, and for that I am so grateful, because if everyone were as limited as I am I'd be short one tall, blond, dream-man.
Waking up to Jasper and pain and a mind full of uncertain experiences helped send my conscious regret packing eventually. Such rational retrospect made me realize that in the mania of Jasper's retreat I couldn't have expected myself to react better, just like I couldn't have ever guessed that Edward would abandon our ways. It was that two-count punch that helped me reconsider my long-held ideology - that paired with a constant Jasper Hale.
Jasper's perseverance made us possible. Allowing him in again, even if "in" simply meant beneath my covers, began a steady reconnect that was unavoidable. Well, inescapable when you're an Alice-and-Jasper brand of lovers.
"Jasper asked if he and the guys could come by later, Alice, but I turned them down. The suite is a guy-free zone tonight," Rosalie sing-songed from a mile in front of me.
I smiled drowsily, thinking of my new path with Jasper, his second chance. No matter if I wouldn't be seeing him this night, as long as we each continued to direct ourselves toward the other, the man who'd leapt beyond any creation of my own design would continue to catch me up. Fill me up. Make me up – but only because I'd chosen myself first as we laid this new foundation.
"Hey, sweetie … Sweetie? Oh, Ali, you need sleep. We'll get you in bed, just hold on."
The femininity in each of the girls' voices melded and became indistinguishable as my eyelids drooped and musings tapered off. Welcoming this type of slumber, the light around me faded in a sought and temporary way.
BPOV
She couldn't have looked smaller in Rose's bed if she'd been a second grader alone beneath the playground parachute during a game of Tepee. Size aside, the probability of that team exercise working solo seemed equally probable to our Alice ever completely returning to her whole self.
"Come sit, B. We'll hear if the little sprite wakes up." Rose's voice encouraged me away from the door frame and back to my Indian-style perch on the settee. How I'd gone from sitting, to pacing, to staring blankly into a dim room I couldn't recall. It felt as though I'd paused mid thought.
"But anyway, yeah – this must be what insanity feels like," I summarized, believing this explanation to my core. The constant vacillation between relief and despair was so bewildering, so exhausting. Above all, especially when combined with a Hefty bag full of other emotions, the shifting world my insides had become was utterly maddening. No stability, no relief, only a hope for progress, and an immediate need for motion.
The heaviness I'd acquired that night with Edward in the stairwell fit me like a familiarly worn glove. This time, however, the weight didn't leave me on the ground, anchored to stagnancy. Instead every inch of me, even to the tips of my wispy hair, felt aflutter.
Knowing you need one thing but realizing it can't simultaneously fulfill what you want, what your heart most desires, can require someone else's functioning brain to make the final decision while you turn in circles. To that end, his had.
"So, you're over? Eddie finally gets to talk to you and it's just … fucking done?" Her fingers focused on a wayward thread marring our dually occupied base of girl-chat operations. After a beat her blue eyes rose to question mine; "So, how did he actually finish things?"
"He just saw it better than I did, Rose. Saw me better … I don't know." I couldn't help but shake my head in time with my shoulder shrug. More of the mind jumble leveled out with the back and forth motion. I realized I wasn't giving myself enough credit. "No, I do know! It's just that I can't make all of this information fit inside my brain at one time. I swear to you," I whispered emphatically, tapping my index finger rigidly against my left temple, "crazy."
"Oh hush, you're fine. A total pill in the trust department, and in desperate need of some life-adventure, but absolutely as sane as the rest of us." She pressed at the end of my deflated hand, tracing one chipped fingernail at a time. "You're leveling out, Bella. Going from one extreme to the other is a sure fire trip, but you're standing now, mighty fine and fucking fabulous." My cousin's determined murmur was on the verge of coaxing me into believing her.
Hugging her knees-to-chest, Rose finished consoling the last person in the room. "He did get it right, you know … it's much more important to have yourself." Then as quickly as she softened me, her blatant misunderstanding of all I was warring with became apparent. "That's all that matters anyway, Swan - being true to your self. So what if you don't have King Cullen?"
The air in our immediate vicinity hung thinly as Rosalie's thoughts caught up with her. "I can't believe the girl whose life long determination centered on having others just said that. Whatever. Hindsight, bitches!"
Her reinvention had indeed been peculiar to watch come full circle. First with Alice, then Jasper, obviously herself and finally Emmett, making up the jelly filling and cream frosting of her fucking cake life, I fumed irrationally from deep, hollow places.
Obviously I realized Rose's life hadn't been easy; it just happened to be full. Enviable.
I couldn't help myself. It was draining having no one understand where you were stuck indefinitely. So, I brought it to her level.
"Just think about what it would be like to say a half-way goodbye to Emmett. You know you'll want him eventually, and maybe forever, but you've put that future completely on hold because you aren't ready yourself. You want to be ready, but you're not … but you want to be … desperately." The spark of realization that crossed her features was cathartic.
"Okay, that is maddeningly insane," she breathed out, a few unsteady minutes later.
"And that, my fair cousin, is only the tip of my agony iceberg." All energy gone, but in an effort to keep from pacing the damned room again, I let my body sink backwards and curl into itself. My head burrowed deep into a velvet pillow sham.
"Well, hell. But, there's nothing else you can do …"
"Except wait," I volunteered, mumbling into the goose down stuffing. Simply put, I was highly aware of what I could currently handle. Forcing myself to be ready for how I loved Edward was not on the list.
As if my pillow-deep head helped her finally comprehend how my circumstances were literally drowning me, Rosalie took us somewhere we both would share in the party of frustration.
"What about Jasper, Bella? How are the two of you doing?" A low blow, especially when I was perfectly keen on continuing to asphyxiate myself.
Lifting my forehead just enough to launch a pointed glare, I countered: "You, 'What about Jasper?' Rosalie."
"Speaking of Emmett-" she shot out faux-innocently, with rapid fire.
"Like ten minutes ago, and don't change the subject!" I was on my back now, half looking to the ceiling, which calmed me, and half observing Rose draw her lips in surrender.
"Shit, well, alright. Jasper's fine in my book. I'm still aggravated about how he handled Alice, but they can work thing out like big kids." One pause. Two pause. Three. "He seems proud of me, and that means a lot. But, Bella, we'll never be like the two of you were – are. Especially where the dysfunction comes into play, that is fine by me. You know that relationship didn't evolve like it should have over time. There was no age adjustment and it became apparent as fuck for you both this year. So, whether it's Edward or Jasper, B, just do it better next year." My eyes slipped closed and heavy breaths shook my chest. At her next words, however, I no longer even had lungs.
"Renee would be proud of you, you know."
Like it had always been just a simple two-step, our dance shifted. In this one sentence, the match was declared a draw. I found that to be sweet. Knowing that even something as deeply rooted and cultivated as our contempt could be replanted nourished me. It gave me hope that in no way pertained to romance. Or even to myself. Tenderheartedness, I finally realized, could be our long-term game changer.
"I was the daughter. I haven't wound up killing myself or anyone else, so pride is sort of a given. No one has to love their niece as much as mom loved you. You were her choice, Rosalie." There was no comparison, only truth. Rose deserved to own that knowledge for the rest of her life.
"On bad days, I used to think I dreamt it. Being loved so much made no sense in a world that seemed totally void of anything so divine. A world full of cocktail party mothers and Fremont." The last came out in a sneer.
"Renee wasn't perfect, remember? She liked to put pickles on everything and streaked lemon juice skunk stripes in my hair during the summer for 'variety.'" My gestured quotation marks faltered as I covered my face as the memories flooding in. I couldn't hold the snort laugh back.
"I do remember! Dill chunks in the Jell-O. That bald patch you tried to cover with a ripped up sleeve headband. You kept yelling at me, 'Shut the hell up, Rose, it's grunge.'"
We laughed into the large room. The melody touched every edge of a void we'd never shake, dulling the forever-sadness. As the loved ones mom had left behind, we would never stop sharing her. I wanted to cry knowing that now we could.
A silent form appeared in the master bedroom's doorway enlarging the moment, if only a pixie sized amount. Padding slowly toward us and snuggling easily into the middle of our youth, Alice seemed to have always been there.
The light outside was beginning to shadow. Dark was quickly creeping up on the late afternoon hour, and even more so considering Seattle had entered winter.
After sufficient homage was paid to the hum of comfort only really good friends can create, Ali groaned. "Oh my god, I am positive that I will suffocate and die in here if we don't take a walk or something."
"No more life or death incidents, please," I countered with a groan of my own, attempting to lower myself into the pillowed cave once more. Instead of allowing that, Rosalie snapped into action - taking charge and care - ready to move us forward.
"Hale if I don't have the sweaters and thermal socks; Swan, you get the blankets. Brandon, let's get you swaddled!"
She was instantly a blur of activity, so I rolled over and heaved a few quilts into my arms while our patient let out a surprisingly Ali-like squeal. Venturing out sounded better every second.
RPOV
It's hard to encounter mutual need. In fact, it might be a fucking impossibility in this self-entitled world. If it does occur, often circumstances have to require it. It is rarely a product of choice.
Alice, Bella and I were victims of a freezing circumstance, to be sure, but Ali was tear-her-hair-out antsy so staying indoors was not an option. Unlike the majority, we chose to set out together. She needed this; we needed her to get better. Need. Need. Need. One enormous blanket containing three hundred percent body heat was the ticket to keeping any of our legs moving at this point, though. So, we huddled, and shifted slowly, desperate not to let the biting wind tear its way into our padded fortress. Just a little ways more and we'd be to the grassy hill, anyway.
We scurried along the sidewalk and continued past a large tree, not wanting bare branches to block the emerging night's sky. With the overbearing Queen Anne building isolating all ground's lighting, stars would soon be visible. Just beyond the location of my breakdown with Jasper we sat and pulled individual blankets around ourselves. Our perch provided a direct line of sight to the gates we'd one day exit and never be required to step foot through again. That was a promise I would set my calendar to.
"It's so fresh out here. Not living, like spring, but…" Alice appeared to be swallowing her own fog breath. "I think I can taste snow in the air."
"We probably won't see white until January or February at least. If at all."
"Um hum," I hummed in agreement with Bella. Snow wasn't likely this time of year.
"I want a snowy Christmas," Ali whined, full pout on display.
"Fat chance, baby cakes." Her arms crossed haphazardly in consternation, but a traitorous smile tugged at her lips. Probably in response to the "baby cakes."
"Hey, I am a traumatized woman. Aren't you supposed to tell me what I want to hear?"
"So you can be a sad-sack all vacation long? No thanks."
"Well, fine. I'll just have to decorate the windows with Artificial Spray Snow. Ooooh, and lights." Ali fingered the bandage situated behind her ear, eyes alive with planning. "When can we get a tree?"
"How about tomorrow?" I answered as I reached over to retuck her gauze and warm her worried fingers. "That way we can use the Jeep before Emmett and Edward leave for Chicago."
"That doesn't make me want to hurry and get a tree. I hate that they won't be here with us."
As if on cue, Jasper materialized, followed by our other men who just couldn't seem to get enough.
"Oh darlin', they'll hurry back. Won't ya fellas?" Wasting no time, he pulled Alice fully down to lie as he cradled her closely enough that our fingers remained connected even as Emmett situating himself below me. Hovering behind her already side-turned body, Edward became Bella's big spoon. Brown hair intertwined with my yellow as her forehead nearly rested on Em's shoulder.
A syndicate. Quietly connected without much effort. With a purpose to escape and reshape. But together.
"So what kind of shin dig are we missing out on, anyway, Shorty?" Emmett bellowed in absolute faith, as if Alice would obviously have something huge up her sleeve no matter the state of her health. Which she probably would. Or maybe that was too much to hope for.
"Oh, only the best kind," she threw back, with a warble in her voice from strain. The temperature was lowering every minute, the ground stiffening with cold. We'd need to get her back inside soon. "There will be great food and music and us."
"And … presents?" Jasper was a sucker for presents, like three kids in one.
She only shrugged as she snuggled more closely to his chest.
"No presents?" Bella reiterated, urgently drawing up on her elbow. Seeing the immediate expression her hair and scent and nearness brought to Eddie-Boy's heart breakin' face, I was damn glad she was facing away.
"Eh, maybe," was Alice's almost inaudible answer.
Hearing her so deflated couldn't only be affecting me, but I held on to the promise of progress that I knew the coming month would bring. With Edward and Emmett being so much apart of her it was aggravating knowing they'd be absent for all of it.
"Well, it'll be an Alice affair. Enough said. You're going to miss out, Cullens."
Feeling my sudden rigidity, Em pulled me closer, walking his hands up and down my sides and spine. Cupping my neck, he kissed through my head down into my whole body. His touch reminded me we were a team, even when apart. Watching Bella easing into Edward, no matter their obstacles calmed me and I allowed every aspect of our collective dedication to wash over me.
Building this unit together meant we'd never be separated, not really, no matter whose love flourished and whose was taped up in the moving boxes come various graduation days. Six individuals were now inextricably linked by innumerable, interwoven bonds. This moment cemented the fact that, together with Emmett, being the glue to this hodge-podge family was always meant to be my purpose. Something grand, a blessing immeasurable and wholly mine. Aunt Ren had known. It was about time little Rosie knew also.
Time would continue to demand we move on, grow more. First dates ending in love, Water Polo riots, idolizing cling-ons, fantasyland parties, a boarding school monarchy exalting an opposing King and Queen - ours was an unprecedented life of "Castle in the Sky" mentality. It had been difficult to discover that we weren't so above everything that the crash impact of grounded reality couldn't be avoided. Within all of our privilege, the students of Fremont left little room for appreciation or thankfulness. Expectation trumped humility. And that arrogant nature would haunt nearly every being I'd haughtily subjugated during my reign. That I should escape such a vapid sentence seemed more miraculous every day that brought me closer to my own liberation.
May would be here before I could even think of turning my contribution around. It had been terribly easy to program these society brats into service in exchange for status, but it would be a waste of time trying to pry their class-clenching fingers from a future of "promise." Their parents live it, why wouldn't they. But once the glitter façade fades, there's no pretending. The six of us learned that lesson, that's for fucking sure.
Looking back, it was never the game we continually made it out to be, but hell, we've hardly stopped being children. Just girls and boys begging to escape the bubble of Fremont but not willing to leave the safety net, to come out and play in the adult world. Or perhaps we had ventured out a bit, but now the time for make-believe was over. Things we'd found out on our own made life too blisteringly real to fake one more second. Head-splitting, family-altering, heart-crushingly anew. It was almost like, if we had to go through it at all it better finally count toward the real deal.
"How long will you guys be in the Windy City, anyway?" Bella inquired quietly, as if to make is seem she wasn't the one asking at all. Our eyes locked. I'll miss them, too.
"We'll be back early," Edward smiled, his desire visible for miles, light or none. "Then we have the whole year."
"And next year," Alice whispered.
"Not with Rosie and me." Emmett interwove our fingers, because it was us first, even while it was also all of us together.
"Oh, you'll still be around. If there's a place other than Fremont for us to hang out you know we'll be there. Gah, fucking Fremont." Bella happened to mutter the last part right along with Jasper.
"And after all that?"
Ali's question hung in the air for less than a second before I threw it far from today.
"Anything."
Eyes closed, warm energy all around, with breaths sustaining the most precious of people peppering the atmosphere – I knew beyond anything that in this moment there was nowhere I would rather be.