A/N: Hey everybody! I just wanted to say thank you for reading. Hopefully you will love Hatterward as much I do. Oh and squishycuddles to MyHerion01 for fixing my commas.

Chapter Two

Promises and Promises Broken

Over the next two weeks, Edward went through stages. Some days he was so morose and depressed that I kept a constant eye on him in case he did something stupid. Other days he was a maniac, and he'd bounce around the shop like a rabbit. I could hardly keep up track of him those days.

After about two weeks, he started to mellow out. There was still madness in his words, eyes, and actions, but his moods were less extreme.

It was only at that point that I felt comfortable letting him out of the shop, and that was only after I convinced him into some new cloths. Fortunately, a long gone boyfriend had left something behind that fit him. There was only two things I couldn't make him get rid of—the faded purple overcoat or the shabby hat. The hat was never out of his sight. He even slept with it. I didn't understand the fascination with it, but I didn't argue either. If it kept him focused, then fine.

The first place we went was to city hall. After hours digging through the city archives, Edward was too stressed and agitated to continue. We had found nothing. He didn't remember a last name, so we and the cleric that helped us had to dig through reams and reams of files.

In the end though, we found nothing, and Edward's mood was getting worse. He was sullen, testy, and his syntax, not good at the best of times, was worse. His riddles were down right mean by the times we got back to the shop. As soon as I opened the door, he disappeared inside the store room.

Knowing that he needed space, I opened up the store. He never came down.

That evening I finally went up the stairs in the back room to my apartment. One room with an odd collection of furniture and broken things. The oddest of them sat in front of my fireplace, glaring and pouting at the flames.

His hat was on the armrest while he drummed the top with his fingers. Since he was slouching in the chair, I knew the fire in his soul had gone out. He was still prickly though. I would have to be careful with how I approached him.

"Edward?" He acted like he hadn't heard me. "Edward, have you eaten anything?"

He shook his head woodenly. That wasn't surprising. Getting Edward to eat was a chore. No matter what I put in front of him, he claimed it wasn't "wonderfully flavorful."

I pulled pancake mix out of the cabinet and reached for the oven knob as I told him, "We'll try again, Edward. You have to be out there somewhere."

"No. No. Beautiful Bella doesn't get it. It's not her fault. She can't possibly know it. She can't see." Edward sneered, his beautiful face twisted into a mask of pain and anger. I'd learned that he didn't how to control his emotions and took them out on whoever was close. It stung, but I was the only one who was truely around him all the time. I didn't believe that he meant to be.

"What don't I get?"

"Can't be found," he muttered darkly. "Nothing to be found. It's been too long. Doesn't matter. I need to find her."

It wasn't the first time his daughter had come up. There had been days when I could barely keep him still and from rushing out the door. I was loath to let him go. He could barely take care of himself. I suspected that his daughter had been taken away, which had lead to this, whatever this was.

That didn't mean that I didn't understand him. He clearly loved her, whoever, and wherever, she was. He would talk sometimes as he slept about how much he loved her, about how sorry he was that he lost her. He couldn't remember her name, but he called her His Flower. I knew from the rest of his mutterings that it likely lead back to her real name. I was going to help him find her, but we had to figure out where he was from first.

I left the kitchen cabinet and went to kneel in front of his chair. I was unsurprised to see the sheen of moisture heavy on his eyes. Edward didn't cry often, but it explained why he's bad mood had clung so long.

"Edward." Softness usually worked better with him. It settled him enough that I could talk to him and hopefully get some real information. "It's okay. I'm going to help you find her. I promise you, but we need to find where you're from first. We'll go back to the courthouse tomorrow and keep looking. I won't give up, and neither will you."

He shook his head, the ends of his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. I had to fight the urge to brush away the curls. He needed a haircut.

"It's not going to work. It can't work." He spoke through gritted teeth. "I stepped out wrong. I wasn't supposed to be here, but the trail lead here, and I need to find…"

His eyes turned from the orange fire to my face and for the first time I was scared of him. His green eyes glared with madness and anger. They were livid. If felt like they had a physical force pressing on my chest. It was terrifying and just a bit exciting.

"Promises." He growled. "Promises. Promises. Promises. You make promises and then you throw them away. Poof. Away the grains of sands. They don't mean anything. They get broken. Always broken."

Edward pounded his fist on the arm rest with a loud smack. I jumped. I was tempted to reach out and make sure he hadn't hurt anything, but I didn't know if he could handle touch at the moment.

"It'll be okay. You just have to be patience."

"No. No patient. I need. I need. I need her. I need home."

The anger faded out of him and the depression came in. One big tear fell down his face. I reached up to brush the wetness away and gasped when he caught my fingers in his own. It was the first time that he'd ever instigated touching me.

He blinked slowly before staring wide eyed at my fingers. He turned my palm over and used his other hand to trace the lines he found there. He smirked, which caused his crazed eyes to gain a whole new level wildness. They didn't scare me anymore.

"You're lines are weird." He giggled.

"Thanks. I think."

"It's a good thing." He winked and I lost a little bit of air in my lungs by the sheer beauty of it. "My Flower has weird lines, too."

The melancholy settled back in, but it didn't bring the frustrated fire with it. It was just empty and that broke my heart more than the fire.

"We'll find her, Edward." I stared right into his wide, scared eyes. At that point it didn't matter that I suspected that he lost his daughter to the government. He clearly needed her, or to at least know where she was, and if that she was okay. "I'm going to help you find her, Edward. I know you don't believe me, but I promise I will."

He smiled sadly and his eyes went back to wandering the lines on my palm. "I only don't believe you because I've broken to many promises myself."

A/N: Theories? I'd love to hear them!