Dr Reynolds' office somehow feels about ten thousand times more intimidating this time than it did last time. I attribute this to it being Esme beside me in the waiting room, rather than Edward.
He doesn't even know I'm here.
I know he'd be angry if he found out I was gallivanting around the countryside without him knowing where I am, but I also know that he's not ready to come back here yet, but that if I told him I wanted to, he'd force himself regardless of his comfort. His personal training sessions have given me the opportunity to go about this, and as guilty as I feel for keeping it from him, it's for the best.
At least that's what I'm trying to convince myself.
The doctor walks out of his office, a polite smile on his face. I slide down in my seat, instinctive fear running through me, but take a deep breath and force myself to at least try to be normal. He waves me over and I release my hand from Esme's, a little embarrassed at how I'd been clinging to her.
"I'll see you in an hour, peach," she says gently with that motherly smile I've come to love so much. I force myself to cross the room and walk through the door Dr Reynolds is holding open for me, keeping my body as far away as possible. I seat myself on the couch, positioning myself exactly where Edward had been last time, as if it could some how bring my closer to him and assauge my discomfort.
I want to do this. I need to do this.
My eyes dart around the room, gauging my surroundings in a vain attempt to familiarise and calm myself.
"So, Isabella -"
"Bella," I cut him off quietly, the reflex overriding my anxiety.
"Bella," he says with a smile. "What brings you back to me today? I notice that Edward isn't with us. Why is that?"
"He... doesn't want to come back."
"But evidently, you do."
I nod, abruptly irritated at his stating the obvious.
"And why is that?" he prods.
"I just... I want to be normal again."
"Normal? That's an interesting choice of words. How do you define the normality you're after?"
I pause to think, so I can try to enunciate just how much I crave to be the girl I once was.
"I'm tired of being so frightened."
I can't think of any better way to phrase it than that. He smiles slightly and nods, apparently satisfied with my somewhat laconic response.
"What are you frightened of?" he asks.
"... Everything."
He laughs gently.
"I'm going to need you to be a little more specific than that, Bella."
I immediately tense as my mind instinctively tries to lock out the thoughts I know need to come to the surface.
"I don't want to hurt anymore."
He nods.
"And I don't want anyone else to hurt because of me." Especially Edward.
"I'm going to tell you something now, Bella, get it out of the way early. I suspect that because of what you've been through, you're going to struggle with this, but it's crucial to your healing that you try to wrap your mind around it."
I wait in silence.
"You need to stop thinking about others. If you're doing this because you genuinely want to live a more healthy life and move past what happened to you, then I'm confident I'll be able to help you. However, if you're doing this out of some misplaced sense of guilt, you won't be able to properly benefit from what we're doing here.
"So I'll ask you once, are you doing this because you think you have to, or because you genuinely want to?"
He looks at me for a long moment, and I feel as if he can tell that I'm fighting the temptation to run out of the room.
I can do this. I can.
"I want to get better."
His passive expression changes to a gentle smile. My lip twitches up slightly in response.
"I'm glad to hear that, Bella."
A moment passes and then he clears his throat.
"Now, I know some information about your time away, but I'd like to hear it from you directly."
I swallow hard. I know this was coming, and that this is the main purpose of my being here, but it doesn't make it any easier. My leg starts moving of it's own accord, twitching in a silent expression of the stress that is eating me alive. He looks at my shaking leg, then back to my face.
"Tell me about the day you were taken, Bella."
"I - I don't know if I can." I'm disgusted by how weak my voice sounds when I say those words.
"There's no rush," he says, his voice even but somehow a little soothing. "Take as long as you need."
I take a deep breath and try my best to reopen a wound that I have tried to seal shut with every fibre of my being.
I was running late.
Woefully, unfashionably, going-to-get-a-smack-from-Alice late.
I snatched my bag off the counter, cursing loudly when my keys fell to the ground. I yanked them up and ran into the garage, remote-unlocking my car as I bolted. I briefly considered making up at least a little of the time by speeding slightly, but the countless lectures my father, the District Attorney, had given me about the risks I was posing to both myself and everone in the general vicinity prevented me.
I'd rather take Alice's wrath than go to prison for vehicular manslaughted... orange was so not my colour.
In my rush, I failed to notice a lot of things.
I didn't notice that there had been a car following behind me the entirety of my journey from home to the restaurant.
I didn't notice that the very same car filled the only spot left outside the place, forcing me to drive around the block to my usual back-up parking lot that barely anyone knew about.
I didn't notice that when I climbed out of my car and headed down the alleyway to get back to the restaurant that a man climbed out of his car and followed me.
I did, however, notice when I saw a non-descript blonde man, dressed in a pair of jeans and black boots, walking down the narrow path towards me. I moved to my left so that he could pass, trying to be polite. He just continued down the middle of the alleyway.
I looked up, a little irritated at this man's lack of common courtesy. He had a small smile on his face, victorious even. Looking back, I realise that he was consumed by the thrill of the hunt. He had stalked, and trapped his prey, and was savoring the moment.
My stomach rolled as intuition seemed to punch me in the gut.
Something was wrong.
I fixed my eyes back on the ground, and then slid my eyes backwards, trying to plan a way out of the situation. That's when I saw the tall, ebony-skinned man I hadn't noticed before. He was looking at me in a different way to the blonde. Vacant, expressionless, but no less terrifying.
Something was very, very wrong here.
I stopped moving as the men took their final steps, placing one on either side of me, only a couple of feet away.
"Look," I said, trying to maintain a level voice and failing immediately. "You can have whatever you like. Just take it." Slowly, I placed my purse on the ground and slid it towards the blonde man in front of me.
He just laughed, a hollow sound that made me want to throw up.
"That's not what we're here for," he chuckled lowly.
"What do you want?"
"We're going to need you to come with us."
I looked over my shoulder desperately, hoping against hope that the other, dark skinned man would no longer be there and that I would be able to run. I was wrong. My eyes flicked back to the blonde, and I weighted my chances for a fraction of a second.
I bolted in the direction of the second man, hoping that I could catch him by surprise and slip past him. I was mistaken. As soon as I got within his reach, he extended a bulky arm and wrapped it around my waist, lifting me off the ground with almost no effort at all. I struggled as hard as I could.
"Help me!" I screamed, beating my fists against the man and writhing in an attempt to get out of his grip. "Somebody help me!"
The blonde man approached, savoring the scene before him before he clamped his hand over my mouth with painful force. His fingertips dug into my face, but I screamed on regardless.
Make as much noise as possible, try to draw attention to yourself.
"Now, now," the man chided, his breath in my face as he leaned in. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The harder you make this for me, the harder things will be for you, I guarantee it."
He looked up to the french man, nodded once, and they began moving. I fought as hard as I could as they walked to a van that had been parked at the mouth of the alley. I struggled and bit at them, screaming and cursing and doing anything I could to stop them, but I couldn't.
It wasn't enough.
"It wasn't enough," I repeat dully, looking down at my hands as my failure consumes me.
"What more could you have done?" he asks. The question stings, as I'd spent hours - days even- while I was in that room thinking about exactly what else I could have done to avoid what happened.
"I want to go home."
I don't wait for his approval. I pick up my bag and walk out of the room, leaving him seated in the chair. I open the door to see a surprised Esme look up from her magazine. She glances down at her watch and back at my blank face, a mixture of concern and confusion on hers.
"Honey, what are you doing? You've only been in there for twenty minutes."
"I'd like to go home now," I tell her. It seems to be the only thought that can penetrate that haze that has descended. I'm trying so hard to push everything back out, but now that the dam has been opened there's nothing I can do to plug it.
"Are you sure?" she murmurs, standing. I take an instinctive step away from her, not wanting contact or any kind of reassurance. It could disrupt my protective haze, and I can't allow that.
"Yes, please."
She looks over my shoulder, presumably at Dr Reynolds, then nods slowly. She picks up her purse and I follow her back to the car, not saying a word the entirety of the trip. I walk up the stairs and into Edward and my shared room, closing the door softly behind me.
I lean against it and slide down the cool wood as the tears start falling. I try to focus on the feeling of them tracking down my face instead of the memories pushing their way into my conscious mind. I'd worked so hard to subdue them, and with that one small break in the wall I'd put up, they're all bursting through.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I screamed as I was lifted from the back of the van by the dark-skinned man. "I haven't done anything wrong!"
"It's not always about you, princess," the blonde chuckled. It was dark, but I could make out the small cabin that we were walking towards. Well, that they were walking towards.
"Please! My father will give you money, or anything you want! Just let me go!" I'd been begging the entirety of the trip, but my pleas were falling on deaf ears.
"I'm sure he would," sneered the blonde, "but this is bigger than that."
He opened the door and the other man carried me inside. I tried to wrap my fingers around the door frame, on final attempt at freedom, but the blonde man grabbed my arm with excruciating force, twisting until I was forced to let go. I directed my gaze at the man carrying me, hoping against hope that he'd have some humanity I could appeal to. He looked away the moment our eyes met.
"Please... please don't do this! Please!"
I didn't even know what I was asking them not to do, but I'd soon find out.
I drag my body over to the bed, pull the sheets off the top half and curl up against the headboard, tracing the familiar quilted pattern of the mattress. It's not the same, but it's the closest I'll get to finding the familiar solace I crave.
Edward had been in the room with me for little over an hour. He'd spent nearly the entire time since introducing himself combing the room vigilantly, looking for any kind of exit or weapon he could find. He came up with nothing. I knew he would, but I didn't have the heart to tell him how futile his efforts were.
He looked over at me, in the corner on the mattress, and sighed deeply, running his fingers through his hair and then down his face.
"Room for me on there?" he said teasingly.
I nodded and shuffled minutely closer to the wall to give him as much space as possible. He flopped down, his feet still on the concrete floor and his body hunched over, then sighed once more before turning to look at me.
"So this is it, huh?"
I didn't respond.
"I'm not going to lie, but this place is a fucking hell hole."
I couldn't bring myself to tell him, but it was only a matter of time until he realised that this small, dank room wasn't a hell hole at all. When compared to the other room, the room with the men and the chair and the bound wrists and beatings, this room was my haven.
Our haven.
I fight with the memories until I can take no more, and sleep consumes me. I awake to the sound of Edward moving around our room, and try not to burst into tears from sheer relief. He's pulling a t-shirt over his head, his hair wet from his post-workout shower. I vault myself off the bed and over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind. He gets his shirt on and turns in my arms, laughing lowly when I bury my head in his chest.
His arms wind around my body, and I feel at ease again as the bubble surrounds me, filling my tired head with the contentment I crave.
"Miss me?" he teases, and I just nod against him, inhaling his smell, which is intensified by the dampness of his skin. He kisses the top of my head, then pulls back and I can feel him looking at me. After one more deep breath of him, I look up and see his eyes flicker to the partially exposed mattress then back to me, concern and curiosity evident on his features.
"Hey," he murmurs, brushing a gentle hand down my face.
"Hey," I breathe back. I let myself drown in his lovely face and the warmth of his body and his amazing smell and every other part of him that makes me feel so at ease.
"Are you alright?" he questions, glancing at the mattress once more. I smile softly at him, trying to express my gratitude for the overwhelming relief he brings me.
"I'm just fine."
AN: What did I get you all for christmas? information... my christmas gift from you? reviews.
*smooches*