A/N: Chapter 6, as promised. Truth be told, it panned out differently from what I thought, so all those wanting to know what the deal with Embry is, I'm afraid you'll have to wait for chapter 7… Anyway, hope you guys enjoy the read, and let me know in the reviews what you think. As always, reviews are most welcome!

Again, a thank you to dantemalfoy and Lineia for providing comments!

Warnings: Drama and angst.

Chapter 6: Purgatory

"One cannot be betrayed if one has no people." – Kobayashi, The Usual Suspects

A clock ticked. The right hemisphere of his brain was aching. Edward meekly opened his eyes, and peaked at the world surrounding him.

Is this heaven?

He rolled his eyes around in their sockets, taking in the surroundings while his blurred vision slowly returned to normal. A light blinded him, causing his headache to worsen steadily until the pain became too much, so that he closed his eyes and lay still until the throbbing in his head subsided. When it had returned to a shallow, nagging sensation, he cautiously reopened his eyes, hoping to take in more details.

Though he expected bushes and trees, perhaps a small bird landing in front of him, chirping softly, he saw something else. He wasn't quite sure what he was looking at, but it wasn't natural.

Heaven is a stranger place than Earth, it seems….

His head had tilted to one side, as he lay on some soft surface quite unlike the cold earth he remembered from the forest. Something covered him, although he wasn't too sure what it was. Whatever it was, it was too warm and snugly to be snow.

Heaven is a warm place.

His mouth curled into a smile, expressing a deep satisfaction at the turn of events. He had been freed from the shackles of his life and found himself in a better place; a warm place, where softness caressed his body. Maybe he could start afresh – a life after death, bathing in the glowing beauty of God himself.

Just as he was slipping back into sleep, muffled sounds reawakened him. He reopened his eyes as his lips uncurled and turned into a frown, his face tensing while trying to make out what he was hearing: soft stomping and low voices. He rolled over to redirect his ears at the source of the noise, so that he came to lie on his left side. When he did so, and his gaze swung to the side, he was surprised to see redness and brownness appear before him. Amazed by the change in colours, he slowly righted himself by propping up on his elbows, so that he could better investigate where he was. He saw red walls, a brown door, a white ceiling.

I'm in a room?

Edward's confusion was palpable. He was lying in a bed, not sure whether he was dead or alive. The world seemed so soft, cosy, warm and friendly; not at all like the one he had left behind. That one has been dark, threatening and full of misery. Perhaps he was not in heaven, but he didn't seem to have been dropped back in the hell of the night before. Was he in purgatory?

I must have died, there is no way I could have survived that night….

At that point he heard crackling and his glance shot towards the door. The handle was slowly turning! Edward felt panic creep up from his loins to invade his spine, nailing him to the bed as it engulfed his upper torso.

The door opened.

Edward calmed down, his tense face slightly relaxing but his eyes still opened wide with terror when a middle-aged woman stepped inside carrying a plate and a glass of milk. She eyed him curiously for a second before approaching him.

"I see you're awake! Good. I brought you something to eat and drink, you must be starving!"

The woman sat down on the bed, showing him the glass and the plate, the latter carrying some kind of toasted sandwich. Edward wasn't hungry at all, however. As he stared at his visitor it dawned on him: he wasn't dead and he wasn't in after life. His hopes, which had soared high, were instantly shot down. He had not escaped his miserable life after all….

"You should really eat something kiddo, it will make you feel better…." The woman insisted, holding the plate closer to Edward's face as she stared at him intently. He glanced at her face. Her hair was curly and came down to her shoulders, but was starting to turn grey in places. It seemed to Edward that she had been a brunette once upon a time, a long while ago. She wore round glasses with small lenses, making her look about twenty years older than she probably was. Her Bordeaux-coloured sweater was baggy and worn-out, and her jeans betrayed a long life lead and ready to be thrown out. Nonetheless, she seemed like a nice lady, smiling at him pleasantly, and nudging at him with the food. Edward's thinking was still slow, and the world seemed unreal to him as he let his gaze travel around the room once more before moving back to the woman.

"What's your name dear?" Her piercing voice broke the silence. Edward stared shyly at her and averted his gaze, staring out of the window instead.

"Edward," he croaked dryly.

"Oh dear…. Here, have a drink." and she practically put the glass of milk to his lips and tilted it, so all that Edward could do was swallow. He simply complied, feeling deflated and tired with life, unwilling to fight this unknown stranger's motherly instincts.

After a few gulps – Edward had to admit that the milk tasted nice – she lowered the glass again and put it down on the nightstands, together with the sandwich. She then looked him over and placed a hand on his leg, piercing his eyes with her gaze as she did so. She remained silent for a moment, but finally she began to speak.

"My husband said he found you yesterday in the forest, at night. You were unconscious and you weren't wearing a coat." She averted her gaze and looked down at her feet as she kept talking. She raised her head and stared at Edward with an expression of worry on her face.

"What happened to you? Where are your parents? We need to call them and tell them you are okay…."

Edward gazed aimlessly in front of him. Whereas previously the reminder of his parents would have wound him up with grief, now he felt nothing. The word "parents" had lost all connotation to him, a veil of apathy engulfing the word, ripping away all its meaning. It was a hollow shell, a relic from happier times that had gotten in disrepair out of disuse. Words like "friends" and "family" had suffered the same fate during that cold winter night.

At least, without people, I can't be betrayed like this again….

In the void that was his thoughts and feelings, an almost negligible pang of relief briefly touched his heart when this notion dawned on him. However, the relief felt bitter and was clouded by an overbearing apathy that quickly rid him of his sorrow.

"I have no parents, family or friends," he spoke sadly, but with a bored flair of nonchalance.

The woman looked shocked. Her pupils dilated and her eyes widened, even if only slightly. She seemed perplexed, though a vague glimmer of understanding shot across her face. It did, of course, explain why he had been in the forest that night, freezing to death. Edward could see she was at a loss for words, but he was unimpressed. He looked at her with utter boredom, feeling truly apathetic about the whole affair.

While the woman was still trying to collect her thoughts and say something useful, Edward had loosely fixed his gaze forward again. His mind was empty, all thoughts flushed away during the last night. An emptiness; a dark void as he had never really remembered experiencing had taken hold of him. He felt his body tingle with pleasure at the softness around him, but at the same time he felt numb. He looked outside the window and felt how the sun's warm rays, breaking through the layer of clouds intermittently, heated his tired body; he felt none of it.

The world was greeting him, the sun winking for him to come. He looked upon it with a sinking lethargy, feeling drained of all opinion, feeling and thought. He just didn't care about anything. He didn't care for the soft bed, nor did he care for the woman. He didn't care for the warm rays of the sun, or the food and drink that were given to him. The fact that he was alive caused him no happiness either. When he was considering all this, he let out a nearly inaudible sigh, but it was but a sigh of boredom; of not knowing what to do with it all.

Living: the icy finger of apathy made it nothing more than an outright boring prospect. For what was he going to do with it? He felt like doing nothing, and in a way he couldn't be but annoyed at this woman's husband for "rescuing" him, had he been able to muster the strength to feel annoyed. That, too, just seemed useless to him. Really, being dead would be so much easier. He had nothing to live for anyway, so why prolong life? Maybe he should try to get out of this place, go back into the forest and wait for the shadow of the night to once again try to creep its long, bony fingers around his tender neck.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea," she responded with a sad voice. "I'll let you eat your sandwich in peace. I'll come check on you later."

The woman's chatter reached Edward like through a blanket. Her voice sounded dull and lifeless to him, muffled by the boredom he felt about the situation. Meanwhile the woman had gotten up from the bed and had turned around to face him. She looked him over as a weary smile formed on her wrinkled face.

"I forgot to introduce myself, Edward. My name is Angela." She lingered helplessly for a moment before turning around and exiting the room, closing the door behind her. Edward winked with slight confusion, having only just barely registered her name.

He eyed the sandwich and noted the grumbling feeling in his stomach, but he couldn't be bothered to extend an arm and eat. What would be the point to sustain his body if he wasn't planning on doing anything with it? Instead, he lay back on the soft mattress, curling up under the blanket. He closed his eyes dreamily and slid into a heavy, black sleep.

It was snowing. A heavy wind gust through the trees, making the leaves rustle restlessly. Edward walked aimlessly along a road, not knowing where he went or why he went there in the first place. Cars swept by him in silence, for all he heard were the weather pounding against his clothed body. As he kept walking, the wind became stronger, and walking further became more difficult. Soon he was fighting to put another step forward, until finally he wasn't strong enough and was forced to stay in his place. In that moment he asked three simple questions:

"Why am I doing this? What's the point? Where am I going?"

A car sped by him in silence, but stopped not far in front of him. A guy stepped out and walked towards him easily, as if there was no wind at all. It was a Native American; it was Jacob… and he walked towards Edward, who was still struggling against the wind. When Jacob stood in front of him, he extended his arm and reached over to Edward, grabbing his wrist. With ease he yanked him forwards and lead him to his car, an old, rickety piece of crap. They sat inside, and Jacob started the engine, but Edward was surprised when he didn't hear the rumbling of it. In silence Jacob steered onto the road and turned the car around. The car shook when Jacob steered it off the other edge of the road and put the car in reverse. At that point Edward lurched at him, and awkwardly dragged him to the passenger seat while he switched to the driver's seat. He, Edward, was back in control, as it should have been. He smiled vaguely as he stepped on the gas and the car moved backward, shaking heavily as it got back onto the paved road….

Edward awoke when his body was shaken. Lazily he opened his eyes as he stretched his arms, the image of Jacob behind the steering wheel still imprinted on his thoughts. Angela stood in front of him, holding the uneaten sandwich that she had placed on the nightstand. She looked worried.

"You didn't eat your sandwich dear. Please, have a go at it, will you? I have to go do some shopping, but my husband will be home soon. Just stay in bed and we'll take care of you."

Edward couldn't help but be surprised at the help he was getting from these total strangers. In any other circumstance he'd feel delighted, but an all-encompassing indifference obliterated that possibility. He only felt numbness pervading his heart and soul as he looked up at the sandwich and the worried expression on Angela's face.

He righted his sleepy body on the bed, leaning against the headboard as he took the plate with the sandwich from Angela. She smiled happily when he started eating. He wasn't hungry at all though; he just wanted her to go away, to not have to deal with the sandwich any longer and get some peace and quiet.

He took a bite and slowly chewed on the dry bread with the moist slice of ham, but he didn't really have any sensation of taste. The food seemed like ash in his mouth, which was dry as a desert. He forced what felt like a gulp of sand down his arid throat, but he took another bite. Angela faced him contently. Finally she stood up, announced once more that she was going shopping, and left, closing the door softly behind her.

Meanwhile Edward kept chewing. The slow, rhythmic movements of the muscles relaxed him. Concrete thoughts were absent in his mind, since the iron fist of apathy was still tightly clenched around it, emptying it by paralyzing it. Even with the abyss that was his mind, he still felt tensed-up. His body seemed to know something that his heart wasn't aware of. As he kept chewing however, it felt like his body was relieved from stress, and the paralyzing touch of apathy was lifted ever so slightly; lifted enough for some thoughts to leak back into his emptied mind.

Jacob at the steering wheel….

The thought brought back flashes from the dream. It seemed like some kind of prophecy: Jacob rescuing him with such ease from his abysmal predicament. It was, however, a prophecy that he couldn't believe in. Jacob didn't have the tools or the power to help him, right?

Such doubts clouded Edward's mind. Every time cautious hope entered it, the full force of apathy immediately lurched at it, restraining and trimming it down to nothing. Like a ship rocking on the waves, swaying to and fro as the wild ocean battered against its creaking flanks, so Edward's mood was subject to the rumble of opposing thoughts assaulting his soul.

He sat in silence, hearing nothing but the ticking clock and the murmur of feelings and memories tugging on his sleeves, calling for his attention like a bunch of five-year-olds. Indifference made him unwavering in his resolve to ignore them. As he stared at the wall in front of him, lost in the absence of any thought or feelings, the vision of Jacob at the steering wheel flashed before him momentarily before fading out again.

Suddenly the door handle creaked and the door was softly pushed open. A man with a rough beard and a checkered shirt and blue jeans peaked through the opening. Edward, distracted, took a moment to register that he was being observed, but soon his gaze travelled lazily to the door. The man looked at him with curiosity. When he saw Edward was awake and conscious, he opened the door further and stepped inside.

He was big, heavily built and his muscular torso towered above Edward. His strong chest supported big arms, and his neck was broad, though it was hard to see with the medium-sized beard covering it up partially. His hair was cut rather short, though he wore a woollen hat that covered up most of the top of his head.

"You're feeling better, I see. Did my wife give you anything to eat?"

Edward merely glanced at the half-eaten sandwich on his lap. He must have dropped it while eating it, because the last thing he remembered was a handful of sand flushing down his throat. He must have momentarily blacked out for a moment before this guy came in.

"I see she made you one of those sandwiches of hers. Don't tell her I said this, but I understand you didn't eat all of it."

He swivelled his torso as he came down to sit down on the bed next to Edward. He took the sandwich and the plate and put them back on the nightstand. He then refocused his attention on Edward.

"My name is Brad. What's yours?"

Edward looked up at the guy, and told him his name: "Edward."

His voice was not as hoarse or croaky as before, since his mouth had been wetted with the milk Angela had given him. He hated to admit it, but the drink and food had done him some good and his body felt a bit revitalized, even if his mind was still buried alive in a ten-foot deep pit.

"Well then Edward, what on earth were you doing in the middle of the forest at that time? You could have frozen to death if I hadn't found you, you understand that right?"

Edward merely smirked.

That was the point….

Brad seemed a bit confused at Edward's smirk, and repositioned his legs to more comfortably eye Edward as he leaned back, supporting his muscular torso with his left arm. He observed Edward intently, a frown having appeared on his bearded exterior.

"What's so funny?" He asked, his voice betraying annoyance. Edward glanced at him.

"You," he answered, short but resolutely. Brad was obviously taken aback a bit at Edward's short rebuttal.

"Excuse me?" He asked, trying to sound tough, but Edward was unimpressed.

"You don't even know me, Brad. Why would you be so concerned with my life when I myself don't care one flying fuck about what happens to it?"

Edward's words stung Brad like alcohol stings on a gaping wound. Perplexed he looked at Edward, to whose expression had returned a bored look. After a few moments he finally seemed to recover from the initial shock.

"So what, I should have left you to die?"

Edward glanced at him, his eyes mat with apathy, though for a fraction of a second a nearly murderous flash seemed to have made his eyes sparkle. Edward's answer was once again short:

"Yes, that's exactly what you should have done."

It was obvious that Brad didn't understand what he was hearing. Slowly it seemed to dawn on him that he hadn't rescued some poor teenager that was accidently freezing in the cold – he had inadvertently prevented a suicide attempt. The notion dropped on him like a bomb.

"What are you saying?" Brad answered cautiously. "You were trying to get yourself killed out there?"

Edward stared at him and nodded briefly. Brad's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Why?" He asked, looking Edward over with prying eyes in a manner that betrayed both worry and curiosity. Edward sat silent, staring at his feet, which peaked out from under the blanket at the other end of the bed. He sighed briefly.

"I have no reason to live," he answered, the tone of his voice hollow and sad. He sounded broken and hurt to the bone. To Brad it became increasingly clear that he was dealing with a bigger problem than he had anticipated, and he wished his wife was with him. Unfortunately he would have to do it without her.

"Such a young, good-looking guy as yourself must have a future in front of him, right? Where are your parents; can't they help?"

Edward barely batted an eyelash to that suggestion. "I have no parents; no family that can help me." Brad looked at him with an unconvinced frown.

"Surely you have somebody to take care of you?"

Edward grew more and more annoyed with Brad's unhelpful chatter. This seemed like some kind of torture; a delay of execution. Why couldn't he just be left alone? There was nothing Brad could do anyway to fill the emptiness inside of him. He was rotten to the core; where his mind and soul had been filled with playful happiness was now a gaping crater, fuming with the toxic waste that had been dumped within. Thus Brad's question remained unanswered.

"Look Edward, I want to try and help you. If you tell me what's wrong, I can do that. If you don't, there's nothing I can do."

Edward shot him a glance. While his face seemed perfectly expressionless, his eyes radiated anger. He watched Brad like that for almost a full minute. After that Brad made to stand up and walk away, leaving Edward alone. However, just before Brad could do that, Edward blurted out, "If I tell you, will you leave me in peace?"

Brad repositioned himself on the bed, and tilted his head backwards, lifting his chin as he eyed Edward, frowning. "I can't promise that," he finally answered.

Edward rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Fine, whatever. My father found out that I'm gay and threw me out. I lost my family. I have no friends, no goal, no nothing; nobody to miss me when I die, and I will certainly not miss life. There, that's it; that's my story."

Edward stared at Brad briefly after giving his concise account of past events. He then sighed loudly and refocused his gaze on the window directly in front of him. Brad, meanwhile, was once again shocked and averted his gaze.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been prying like that," he mumbled as he stood up and made his way for the door. He closed it silently behind him and Edward was left alone. Downstairs he heard a door shut loudly and muffled voices penetrated the room through the hard-oaken door. To Edward it was all the same. He rolled over in his bed, closed his eyes but couldn't fall asleep. Instead he tried to listen in on the conversation below him.

"…thrown out of his house by his family for being gay. Not sure what parents he has but here I wish I had a shotgun ready."

"Brad, please don't say such things! Only God knows who hears such threats; you're not a murderer!"

"I know I know, don't worry, it was a figure of speech. The kid seems completely apathetic to me. The betrayal of his parents must have ground his mind to dust… he even claims to not have any friends, can you believe it?"

"Oh dear oh dear, poor boy. I wish I knew what we could do about it. He is too young to die…. Ah, it's so tragic."

"Yes, we must figure something out Angela, we have to help him in some way. There must be somebody out there that could help him, right?"

"I don't think he likes us prying at him like that, Brad. He kept sending me angry scowls when I asked him."

"Yeah, he did the same to me. Nonetheless, we should make him appreciate the fact that…"

Edward at last fell asleep as Brad's words rumbled on in his mind.

When he awoke again the sun was setting. The red light of dusk bathed the room in a soothing orange glow; the same kind of light in which he had basked during that summer evening when he had been at Gaya with his siblings.

He yawned loudly and scratched his abs as he sat up a bit in the bed and stared at the setting sun. The door opened soon afterwards, and both Brad and Angela stepped inside. Angela was carrying another plate – once again a ham sandwich by the looks of it – and a glass of milk. She set it on the nightstand as she sat at the edge of the bed and looked Edward over. Brad kept standing behind her, arms folded. The room was dark, making it hard for Edward to make out their faces against the background of the setting sun.

"How are you feeling, dear?" Angela asked. Edward nodded slowly in reply.

"I'm okay". Angela nodded, a smile spreading her lips and curling the corners of her mouth. Truth be told he felt as empty as before and wasn't sure what to feel. Happiness at being alive? Annoyance at not being dead? Thankful for these strangers' kindness? Angry that they were so persistent in wanting to know what had happened to him?

"My husband here told me what you said. We are sorry for your loss and we hope we can alleviate your pain. We won't pretend that we know what you are going through, but at least let us help make things easier for you?"

Edward heard the words, but wasn't aware of their meaning. They floated past him, swirling around his ears like mosquitoes. He simply nodded in reply, smiling weakly. He looked Angela over, whose face radiated with new energy at Edward's answer, but Brad seemed unconvinced. He still stood with folded arms, frowning at Edward.

"Edward, how are you really feeling?" he asked. Though he frowned at him and seemed unimpressed with Edward's previous answers, Brad had asked this in a calm voice that invited honesty. Edward wasn't sure what to say. He was in conflict over his feelings since the night before. He stared forward in silence for a while, contemplating an answer while phasing in and out of reality intermittently.

"I don't know what to feel. I feel empty… even if I wanted to feel something I wouldn't know how to. I think I would like to cry, but I have no tears. I'm a void, and I'm not sure what to do about it," he finally managed as he looked up at Brad. Stating the truth like that felt strange, but a tingle of relief permeated his lower back. He breathed a bit more easily, even if feelings didn't return to him. Brad was lost in thought, and Angela's smile had evaporated, her expression having turned into a worried frown.

"Edward," Angela finally started, "we don't believe that you have nobody. There must be somebody out there to help you. Somebody, anybody…"

Their persistence was as infuriating as it was praiseworthy. For some reason that Edward couldn't fathom they seemed really concerned for him. As he stared at them and considered their question, flashes of his earlier dream appeared before him. There was perhaps one person that wanted to see him again, but he was unsure about how that person could remedy his situation. He looked at Angela and Brad, and he sensed their trepidation as they awaited an answer. He sighed.

"Perhaps there is somebody, but he won't be able to help me."

Angela's eyes widened, and Brad unfolded his arms as he crouched down to look Edward straight in the eyes. Hope visibly flared up in the married couple that had looked at him, almost begging, for the better part of five minutes.

"Who is this person? I'm sure we can contact him to help you out." Brad asked urgently.

Edward merely sighed and shook his head.

"It's no use."

He turned around in his bed to face the wall opposite of Angela and Brad. He heard how Angela got off the bed, and accompanied her husband out the room. The food and drink remained on the nightstand, untouched. The door closed silently as the light in the room was turned off.

Edward was alone in the room once again, thoughts mulling around in his head for the first time since the previous night. They were sparse and few, but they were there – and they pertained Jacob.

A/N: I will be abroad for a few days as of Thursday and will only be back sometime in the second week of February. As such, I can't promise anything within the next two weeks, but I will try to deliver chapter 7 as soon as possible.