Greetings from Tent City

Dear Readers,

I've been in LA for all things Twi for my research project (and to be a fan girl). It is an emotionally and physically draining experience.

The reviews from the last chapter are incredible heart-felt messages that speak right to me. I treasure them, but have been unable to respond to most. I hope you understand.

I've been out of touch with my pre-readers and beta (family, friends, etc.) since getting out here.

Thank you to the usual suspects who have been waiting to hear from me: orangeapeal, Sunshine, and robsjenn.

A very special thanks to xoEMC who jumped in to beta this chapter.

Reminder: A friend of mine in the fandom, Tammi (aka PattzStewGlobal) lost her son in a tragic car accident two weeks ago. You can donate to receive the Jasper x Alice outtake to raise funds to defer funeral costs until November 20th.

More details can be found here: http:/welcome-to-the-rileys-saturday(dot)blogspot(dot)com/2011/10/auction-to-raise-funds-for(dot)html

Just use a dot in the places it says.

Warning: Angst

From my heart…

Chapter Thirty-two
Painted Walls

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"Edward, come on, run," Carlisle beckons me from the end of a long hallway and I take off sprinting towards him. "There's a person in the Family Room who needs your help."

I look down and see I'm wearing a stained concert shirt. "I'm sorry, Carlisle. I was in the library studying for finals. Did I miss the final?"

"No, Edward." He lays his hand on my back and pushes me into the room. "Now go."

I trip over my feet, stepping clumsily inside, and see that the room is empty with the exception of a figure sitting in the corner, dressed in an oversized coat, looking out the window.

I approach. "Bella? Is that you? Do you need me?" There's no response. The head is bowed. I can't see her—I want to see her.

Beads of sweat collect on my brow. I take another step closer. "It's okay that you need me. I want to take care of you, Bella."

"Reverend Cullen?"

The figure turns around and I stumble backwards, horrified. I see myself sitting in the corner. Sixteen, ghost-white, and terrified. My hands are wrapped in gauze, stained with blood. I'm wearing blue flannel pajamas, hospital socks, and someone else's coat. I look even younger than my age.

Carlisle walks to my adolescent self and I watch the memory play out.

"Edward, we've been looking everywhere for you." He takes a knee in front of me and places his hand on my neck. I can feel it myself, here, now.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was in the backseat of my dad's car." Oh, my voice is so young, sorrowful. My brows are pulled together and I wear a guilty expression. Poor kid. You didn't do anything wrong.

"I know, son." His voice breaks on the word. "I came as soon as I heard they found you."

"Thank you, sir." I see the anxiety in my dark eyes, the confusion, and loss. "Should I go home now, Reverend?"

"No. No, Edward…" Carlisle is distraught and trying to be so careful. "This has been a horrible day; the worst day and night ever, hasn't it Edward?"

I nod. "Yeah… yes, sir." My engrained good manners serve as a foundation, taking over even in despair.

"I'll tell you what we're going to do—we're going to go to our house. Esme is there and she really, really wants to see you. Okay?" Carlisle fights back tears and looks away to steal himself.

"Yes, sir."

"And we… we have all these bedrooms in our house… you like our house, don't you, Edward?"

"Yes. Very much," I say with trepidation, knowing what is to come.

"Esme and I would really like it if you would come stay with us. Would you do that, Edward? Would you come and stay with us?"

I can't watch. I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to look at the fear in my young face.

"Thank you for the offer, Reverend Cullen. But I don't want to overstay my welcome. Maybe I can go home tomorrow. I'm pretty sure I can take care of myself."

"How about we go home now and talk about it tomorrow? Okay, Edward?"

I've seen enough. I take a few steps toward the door, but am stopped by Carlisle blocking the doorway.

"Edward, where are you going? Bella needs you."

"It's not Bella, Carlisle. This is a dream or something."

"Are you sure? It looks like Bella to me," he says, looking over my shoulder.

I turn around to see my mom sitting in the chair. My God, she's here.The sun brightens her face. She's well and smiling. I don't care if this is a dream.

"Hi, buddy. Are you here to give your mom a hand?"

"Yeah, Mom." I run the few steps to her and fall to my knees. "You need me, Mom? What can I do? I'll do anything."

My heart is expanding, spreading, filling my entire body, reaching my toes and fingers. She's glowing like a painting of an angel, or an illustration you'd find in Sunday School children's books.

"You're such a sweet kid. How'd I get so lucky?" She places her hand on my cheek and I lean into it, hoping to sense the warmth of her palm, but I feel nothing.

"Can you pick me up?" She wrinkles her nose at the strangeness of the request. "Carry me?"

"Absolutely, Mom."

I start to slide my arm under her knees, but she stops me. "Edward, what happened to your hands?"

Now the gauze covers me. Blood seeps through the cotton. "It's nothing, Mom. I'm okay."

I move one arm around her back and the other under her legs. Closing my eyes, I pray I can lift her, right my wrong from the funeral. It is the reason I relish carrying my Bella.

I stand, lifting her with me. I'm so happy, I could levitate with her in my arms.

"Edward, you can put me down."

I open my eyes and look down at the face of Bella. It is she who is in my arms. My mother is gone.

"Bella, where's my mom?"

"She died, Edward. I'm so sorry."

"I know." My face falls. There was so much I wanted to tell her. I swallow the bitter pill and look down at the love in my arms. "Can I carry you, Bella?"

She tilts her head and breaks the news, "No, Edward. I don't need you anymore."

I spring awake and jolt up. "What the fuck?" I'm in a dark motel room. The sweat-soaked sheet sticks to my naked chest.

It takes a second for me to remember where I am and how I got here. I fought with Bella, got in my car and started to drive. A couple of hours later, I was at the Canadian border. I ended up at the Anchor Inn Motel, Blaine Washington—a six-pack, Sports Center, and my cell phone clutched in my hand.

It's still in my hand.

I pry open my aching fingers and stretch them out. Another text from Jasper.

I send him the same text I sent last night:

Jasper,
Give me a few days.
I'll be in touch.
-Edward

I look through my voice mail and messages once more, just in case. Nothing from her. From my bed, I can see beginning of an orange sky. I need to go—it's time.

The shower runs cold for several minutes while I unwrap the small soap and uncap the tiny bottle of shampoo. My mind wanders to my dream. Who am I saving, anyway? My mom? Myself? Bella? I shake my head and laugh sardonically. Jack Sparrow would love to get his hands on this. Too bad I'll miss his appointment today. I'm done with dreams. Probably appointments, too. Done with everything.

The shower warms and I step in. I work up a lather with the small soap and move my hands up and down my body in circles, washing away the smell of stale beer.

As I wash my hair, I solidify my conclusions from last night: Since meeting Bella, my world has been turned upside down—anxiety, panic attacks, anger and, as of this morning, nightmares are all back. I don't need any of it. I was probably a better person before Bella. My life was set with Carlisle, Esme, Jasper, the church, and a clear career path—I was probably happy. Happier?

Bella doesn't need me anymore, and I can live with that. I've done my Christian duty by nursing her back from the brink. Now she can move on, and so can I.

I turn the water as hot as it will go. The scorching feels so fucking good. I test myself to see how long I can bear the pain… counting slowly, marking my endurance. One… two… three… sweat mixes with water… My skin turns bright red and for the first time since last night, I feel something… six… seven—Too Much-I lurch away and press my body against the cool tiles of the shower.

I get out of the shower and dry myself with thin, scratchy towels. I put on my clothes from last night and walk out into the room where my phone sits on the dresser next to the small television.

Alright Bella, one last time. If there's a message from you, I throw that whole plan away. If not, we're done.

I look. Twice. There's nothing. It only confirms that I'm right.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I stare blankly at the screen of my cell phone for a long time. I don't know how long. Several minutes… an hour? Once again, I consider texting her. Back together? No. I put that thought to rest last night. But, I told lies. I should rectify the lies before we end all of this.

I start the text:

The name Teddy doesn't bother me.
I do love your house.
You're head is on straight about money.
I wanted to buy you things but was afraid to offer—
I don't know why.
I'm sad when you're sad and happy for you
when you are happy…
I wish you the best of luck
with all of your endeavors.

Fuck.

I flop back on the bed. Don't do it Edward. Don't open that door. A clean break is what you need.My thumb hovers for a moment, then I press 'Delete.'

I peel myself from the bed and put on my watch, hoping that fucking alarm won't go off again. Three times it woke me in the middle of the night, and I have no patience to figure it out.

The phone and wallet go in my pocket and I walk to the door. Wait… No. I take out my phone, the vortex of my obsession. From the door, I toss it… a perfect arch in the air, it hits the edge of the trashcan, and falls in.

I grab the door handle and give one last look. This is where I leave it all—my sorrow, my memories, my... "Good-bye, Bella." I close the door.

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~0~

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There's a pounding on the door. I know it's Jasper. Unable to avoid this any longer, I place down my paint roller, and wipe my hands on my t-shirt.

He pounds again, "I know you're in there, Edward. I saw your car."

I take a breath and open the door. "Hey, buddy, how have you been?"

"How have I been?" He's indignant.

I walk to the kitchen. "Can I get you a beer?" I hide my face in the fridge while I get out two beers and gather myself. I knew this first meet up would be tough. He is silent. I can sense him counting the pizza boxes and take out containers scattered throughout the kitchen.

Jasper takes the beer and strolls around the apartment, surveying my mess, I'm sure.

"Where's your couch?" he asks.

"I got rid of it." I say casually. Too many memories. "All I really need are the two chairs. Just like when we were in college, right?" I slap his back and grin.

Jasper throws his trench coat over one of the chairs and stands in the middle of my living room with his arms crossed, staring at my painted walls.

"Painting?"

"Yeah."

"Hm. Which color are you going with…? The brown or the baby blue?"

"Um… haven't decided. Maybe both. Or, you know, I might paint the whole thing white tomorrow."

"May I have a seat?"

"What? Yeah, of course… why are you asking?"

He shrugs and takes a seat on the one chair that isn't holding laundry. Crossing one leg over the other he inspects me, and the condo, for quite some time.

Fuck, I really should have called him.

"Where have you been for the last five days, Edward?"

"Five? It's only been four, I think."

"No. Five days and not one returned phone call."

I sigh. It's time to get this all out. "Listen Jasper, I'm sorry. Finals were this week, I've been pretty much living—literally living—at the library. Everything finished up last night. The semester is done and now I'm working on getting the condo in shape."

He looks around again, but seems to swallow his criticism about the look of the place.

"What's your excuse for not calling?"

"No phone."

"You lost your phone?" he says, incredulously.

"No. Not lost. I got rid of it, Jasper. And I have to tell you, it is the most liberating fucking thing I've ever done. I swear, Jasper, you should get rid of your phone, too."

The damn has broken and I want to share my happiness. "I'm sorry you were trying to get a hold of me… I know I should have gotten in touch, but really, the phone, the internet… it's all created to fuck us up. We're slaves to it, Jasper. I can't begin to tell you how incredible this week has been… how much I've accomplished. It's fucking nuts."

"I have to ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me, Edward… Are you on coke?"

"What? Like… like coke, coke?"

"Cocaine, amphetamines, speed… something…"

"No, why would you say that?"

"Look at yourself. You're twitching, sweating, your sniffling like a coke-head, pacing around like you're high…"

"No. God, no. I'm… I have a cold I can't get rid of." I go into the bathroom and grab some toilet paper to blow my nose again. I look in the mirror and notice my sallow complexion, the grey-purple circles, and my scruff that is quickly turning into a coarse beard. Okay, I look like shit.

I splash water on my face and call out from the bathroom, "Alright, truth be told… I'm sort of living on coffee. I think I've had about twenty pots in the last few days. You know, finals."

When I walk out, I find Jasper across the room, fingering a hole in the wall. "Was this your cell phone?"

"No. That was my watch." It smashed to pieces when I threw it across the room.

Jasper stands. "Grab your coat, we're going out."

"No, Jasper, now's not a good time," I whine.

"What's so pressing, Edward?"

"I have stuff to do… I have paint out, the wall to fix…"

"And it all has to be done right this minute?"

I massage my temples, hoping my headache will cease. "Jasper, I'm trying to get the condo in order… I think I'm putting it on the market."

"Let me guess, you aren't looking to move to the suburbs."

We have a stare down for several moments.

"I'm looking at some PhD programs out in Chicago." I feel myself shrinking at his glare. I knew this would be hard… now I just have to tell Carlisle and Esme.

"Get your coat," he insists in a cold voice.

"Jas-"

"DO NOT push me."

I get my coat and follow him out the door.

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A/N: I know. It's short. Hang in there. If you want to know if this story is HEA, ask me in your review and I WILL get back to you. Some have asked already, but your PM must be enabled for me to respond.

Please do not forget the auction for funeral funds mentioned in the A/N. You have 5 more days to contribute for the Jasper x Alice outtake.

Be well.

Liz x

PS-let me know what you think.