Time Moves Slow- BADBADNOTGOOD and Samuel T. Herring

It Will Come Back- Hozier

I traced my finger along the condensation inside the double-paned window, wishing I could dip my finger through to draw a pattern with the collected water. It would be so easy to just push through the clear acrylic, to finally feel a breeze blow on my face and fresh, pure air rush in.

I let my hand fall on my lap, resigned as I leaned my head against the side of the cabin. If I did that, then the cabin would depressurize, oxygen masks would drop, people could die as the pilot steered us into an emergency landing right in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Everything would be delayed as cops swarmed in and investigations came in from all directions as to why the window beside seat 2D suddenly broke so severely there was a perfect hole right in the center. And that was exactly what I needed when I was on my way to the Volturi.

I sighed needlessly, letting the last bit of breath in my lungs escape. The man seated beside me glanced over at me but quickly returned to his movie when he saw me looking back. I rolled my eyes and returned my own stare to the back of the seat in front of me. He had been nervously glancing over at me since I slipped in front of him to take my window seat. He was a businessman of some kind, dressed in a starchy collared shirt and dark slacks, clearly of the kind who still thought he had to dress nicely for a flight while most others were in sweatpants and T-shirts. He had a shaved head and thick-rimmed glasses, the shadow of a beard creeping along his soft jaw line. I didn't know what it was about me that he found so off-putting- I was also dressed well, and I wasn't trying to present myself as standoffish or frightening.

I absentmindedly wondered if he could sense it. I looked down to make sure that there was nothing physically on me. I touched the light silk of my shirt, trying to verify it and no, even though it felt like there was a gaping hole in my chest, like my dead heart had been ripped out of me, torn apart, and burned to ash, there was nothing there but fabric and skin, all smooth and intact.

I inhaled just enough to be able to sigh again, relishing the burn in my throat that reminded me of something, anything, other than this pain. Thirst was familiar, it was normal, especially on a plane with one hundred and ninety-eight humans and just recycled air, no other ventilation or escape. It wasn't as if I was remotely tempted to go about slaughtering them all, but there was certainly a reason that Carlisle had bought our family a private aircraft.

I pressed my finger against the window again, removing it and pressing again so my fingerprint left a pattern in the patina of glass cleaner left behind. If I squinted, it almost looked a bit like a turkey, or a peacock. Not realistic at all but rather the sort that small children made in primary school for Thanksgiving celebrations.

I stared out the window, past my abstract little drawing into the ocean below. We had passed through a stretch of dense cloud cover but now it was curiously clear, just a black night sky meeting the dark surging water, cast in a pearly chiaroscuro of the moonlight shimmering over the waves. I closed my eyes and unwittingly conjured Edward's face before me. Not happy Edward- no matter how hard I tried to bring them to mind, those images were lost to my memory. Instead, I received a glass-sharp vision of his face on that night, just four days ago. His eyes shining with the stain of tears in the same soft glow of the moon, his full lips bowed down in a frown. Him asking me to leave.

That fiery pain began licking at my insides once more. I felt dizzy with pain, accidentally allowing a moan to slip from my lips. Mistake. My eyes parted just enough to watch my companion in the seat next to me, staring at me furtively with his sparse brows shooting up on his expansive forehead, his knuckles whitening as he clenched the armrests on either side of him.

I closed my eyes again and shrunk myself down, hoping to calm him from the race of his pulse. My shoulders bent, my body leaning as far away from him as possible as I pressed myself against the side of the cabin, my blanket stuffed beside me to give him the semblance of more space.

The flight attendant made her way down the aisle, pushing her cart and offering all the first class passengers snacks, foods, drinks, and moist towels. Only my seatmate and a honeymooning couple two rows back were awake at the late hour, and I opened my eyes to quietly ask for an herbal tea. When I reached over to grab the mug, the man visibly flinched, and I very quickly withdrew back to press into my little corner. The flight attendant gave him an annoyed look while she poured him a glass of scotch and returned to the kitchen cabin to fetch him a sandwich.

"Sorry," I murmured. My throat felt dry and scratchy, choked with a sob I had been holding back, parched with a thirst the cup of tea couldn't quench.

I just couldn't bring myself to drink, to hunt. My stomach felt knotted and tight, hostile to the idea of anything entering it again. The nausea lingered, and I pressed my forehead back against the cool window and wished I had been in the frame of mind to ask Carlisle before I left if there was something deeper wrong with me.

In all honesty, I wasn't in much a frame of mind now, either, especially if my seatmate was any indication. But when I left… I did it all wrong. None of it was how I wanted.

This sword had been hanging over all our heads for months. Those newborns in Seattle had to be dealt with, and I couldn't regret going when it meant that we had saved scores of humans from their rampage. Especially given how long it took the Volturi to get there to deal with it themselves.

But the days leading up to me being on this very plane were not supposed to be how they were. It was meant to be filled with every last bit of happiness and joy we could squeeze out of the last days of summertime, basking in the sunshine and swimming in the river. I was meant to be wrapped around Edward for days, his large, warm hand twined through mine, pressed against my hip, twisting through my hair. Maybe I could have spent some time with Carlisle, while Edward slept, either at the hospital, quietly marking through charts, or maybe in our library at home laughing and shouting about some book or philosophy. I hadn't given myself time to just be with Esme, to rest my head in her lap as she scratched my scalp and read an architectural journal aloud to me.

They should have all been at the airport, hugging and kissing me goodbye with promises that I would be home very, very soon, promises that I would be safe and assurances that Edward would be fine, too, that they had their schedule and their routine was down pat and everything would be the same when I came home.

It was nothing like that. I sprinted home after leaving Alice's bedroom in such a state that I thought I might be genuinely crying. I had nothing but her book tucked in my side and this hole in my chest that was apparently not physically real, but sure as hell felt like it was. I flew into the house, jumping straight up to my room and skipping the formality of entering downstairs and running up the stairs.

I stuffed some clothes in the duffel bag and slung it over my shoulder, moving so quickly that Esme and Carlisle were still on the stairs, running up to meet me. They must have known it wouldn't have gone well. I wondered if Edward had told them what he was planning to say to me.

I brushed past them, heading down the stairs myself and ignoring Esme's outstretched hand, Carlisle's piercing stare. Kate was sitting at the dining room table, where they had obviously been sitting before they heard me come home. It was where all our important family discussions took place, after all. More recently, it was where Edward took his meals, Esme sitting beside him almost always to bask in his presence and delight in being able to care for one of her children.

I stared at his seat, slightly crooked and sticking out from under the table from the last time he had sat there and haphazardly pushed it in when taking his dishes to the kitchen. Esme usually straightened it out, but she must not have had time.

"I'm going to Denali. Would you mind coming with me and showing me where?" I asked, my voice uneven and breaking.

Esme and Carlisle begged me to stay with empty promises of fixing things that were fractured beyond repair, telling me Emmett and Rose were on their way home and would be there soon and they could figure everything out together.

I shrugged off their every touch- it was too cool, even their warm hands didn't radiate that penetrating heat that I craved- and ignored their pleas. What did it matter anyways? The end was inevitable, and here I was, on this plane, rocketing away from where I had left my heart and soul.

My little tracking expedition had been useless anyways. There was nothing I could do right, after all. Nothing in my power to hold Edward to me, to bring him back to me. Kate took me straight up to the mountain where she had first realized Alice had taken off, then down the path where her very faint scent lingered. I could smell everyone else far more potently, intermingling and crossing throughout the valley and obscuring the traces of Alice's scent anyways.

Kate had realized I was in no state for company and quietly slipped away, probably heading back home to tell her family that silly Bella who had fallen for a human had been too lacking to hold on to him.

I sat in the forest, curling into a ball and wishing that the elements could just take me. The wind was just a gentle brush across my skin, the insects with no sense of self-preservation began to crawl across my skin.

I don't know how I did it, but I unfolded myself and ran. I guess I was figuring someone would come to find me eventually, and I didn't know how I could possibly face anyone. My whole body felt like it didn't work, couldn't possibly move, yet I was impossibly running faster than a car, sprinting alongside the highways that I met and weaving past traffic. I had my bag cradled against my chest, the strap needlessly around my neck. If I pulled on it firmly enough, the pressure matched his arms when we ran together.

It was a sick, silly thought. I was more rational than that, surely. Besides, my purpose was meant to be focused on Alice. My heart called for Edward, but the venom that surged through my body sang for the vampires it had created. Alice was my sister in more significant ways than I think even she could understand- how else could she have left? Edward was waiting for her, but I was too.

I wasn't focusing on subtlety, and I was certain that strolling briskly down the streets of Seattle in the dead of night had drawn attention from some humans, but no one called the police. I wasn't in the nicest neighborhood, and people tended to keep to themselves as much as possible here. How else could they not have noticed the drunken and belligerent couple on the end of the block with a pair of children that were so clearly malnourished and abused?

I stared at the little house, boiling with rage at an inanimate object. It was old- built in the 50s and probably only updated once in the meantime- and dilapidated on top of that. The white paint was yellowing and peeling, the roof missing shingles. The yard was overgrown and covered in weeds and, upon one deep breath, I discovered weed, too.

But there was no Alice. None of that sparkling, honeyed scent I had associated so closely with my sister.

I had been over-confident, thinking I would find her there. Everyone else had stuck to Alaska, but I knew Alice, or at least I thought I did. I thought maybe, just maybe, she would come to see the house she had grown up in, where her demons were born. But there wasn't even the ghost of a trace of her, and I couldn't help but wish I could just lay on the ground and escape it all.

I didn't, though. At that point, I had two days before I was due at Sea-Tac. If there was a chance, no matter how small, that I could find Alice, I wouldn't give up.

It was just so stupid of her! I couldn't believe she would just take off on Kate. She knew how dangerous it was, how dangerous she was! How many times had we tried to tell her that newborns were so mindlessly out of control that she could massacre an entire town and still not be able to satiate her thirst, that she wouldn't be able to understand or mourn until she was rational again, and then she would regret it so deeply that she would carry it with her for eternity? I knew that it would be difficult for her to understand the gravity of it all, given her age, but in the very least, she could have trusted us.

I faded into the shadows of every street, skirting along lights and avoiding as many humans as possible. I stopped at home after apartment, a veritable mini-tour of Edward and Alice's childhood, searching for a scent that was never there, and with each passing locale the probability of her being there lessened.

I visited each group home either of them had ever been placed in, every foster home. I even managed to track down the foster family who had moved, and it took a great deal of control I didn't realize I had anymore to refrain from shattering their window, bursting into their living room, and unleashing the true fury of the vampire I had long-since buried in me. That was that first foster family, the ones Edward had told me about who made their foster children use the hose outside to shower, even in the dead of winter.

But I let them go and moved on to the next. The only place I lingered was a park in Renton. In summertime, it was very pleasant, though I remained in the shadows. It wasn't even sunny under the stubborn cloud coverage, but that was where I belonged. I didn't deserve to mingle about with any one of those happy humans, to sour their mood with the depth of my grief. I was sure they would be attuned enough to sense it, as my seatmate on the plane surely did. He still hadn't slept on our overnight flight, and I was sure I was the reason for his restlessness.

But those humans were laughing, running, reading. I strolled through the park quickly and tried to avoid crossing paths with anyone, keeping to the edges, my shoulders hunched, my bag pressed tightly to my side. I wished I could become as small as I felt, just a mote of dust joining the countless others, losing myself in a swirl of breeze and drifting aimlessly until I was as faceless and lost as all the others.

But I couldn't. I was sure that Alice hadn't been to this park or the areas surrounding it either, but I couldn't bring myself to leave yet.

This was where Edward had spent months of his time before he moved to Forks. It was here he slept on a bench, under a tree, in a nearby alley. It was here he consumed every book he could get his hands on, and I spied the library on the other side of the park. It was a tidy little building under the shade of a towering oak, welcoming and warm, especially to a lost teenager.

I pulled my phone from my bag, ignoring the dozens of calls and messages from my family, With a quick glance, I knew nothing had changed, that Edward wasn't calling out for me. He hadn't changed his mind.

With a quick flurry of messages and passwords, I transferred a sizeable donation to the little local library. They would be funded through the century, and have a shipment of books weekly if they wanted it. If there were any other people who were as lost as Edward had been, they would be able to find some comfort in the same pages I once had.

I sighed deeply again and touched the cover of Alice's copy of The Shining. I hadn't opened it, but I had taken it from my duffel bag and laid it on my lap for the duration of the flight. It was a pretty nondescript cover, compared to other Stephen King novels. Just a simple dichromatic depiction of the Red Hallway in the Overlook Hotel, the title words stretched across the cover. The spine was bent, the edges of the pages worn from use. Alice had clearly enjoyed the novel, just as she had every other horror and thriller that I had left on her bookshelf.

But I couldn't bring myself to open the book. I just left it, balancing on my thigh, my mug of tea cooling quickly in my cold hand, as I watched the ocean stretch out underneath us, vast and deeply uninterested.

It would wear on. No matter what else, the concerns of any other being were trivial to the ocean. It had existed long before humanity- and the derivation of humanity vampires were- and it would exist long after. I could go on to Italy and never return, and the ocean would storm and calm the same as before, just as it would if I were to return home.

I wasn't as optimistic as I had been before, but maybe I had just been convincing myself for Edward's sake, and for everyone else's.

And even if I did come home, what would be left for me?

Edward… he didn't want me.

How could he? There was nothing I had that could hold him, nothing I could offer him when he could find better. All I had done was ingrain myself into his life, take his sister away, shake any hope of stability and force him into a world where he would never be truly safe.

The world was in shambles around me, but everyone on the plane seemed wholly oblivious to it. Well, except for the man beside me, but I had watched him swallow a pill and he was slowly closing his eyes, finally settling into an uncomfortable rest as he continued to nervously glance at me.

The attentive flight attendant came round again with her drink and snack cart, collecting my still-full mug and offering me an apology that the drink wasn't to my liking. I mustered up a pained smile and assured her it was fine, I just wasn't as thirsty as I thought I was- a lie that tasted of ash and burned down my tongue, because I was still thirsty.

She stored the mug in her cart and offered me something else, but I declined this time. My hands were warmed but cooling rapidly, unable to retain the heat from a source that faded. Nothing at all like the scorching embrace of the boy I loved, whose warmth burned like the sun as I orbited around him. I felt exactly suited to that metaphor, like some celestial body thrown out of orbit and rocketing wildly through space, dark and alone and without a path back.

All too soon, we were treated to a view of the sun rising over the sea. Most of the windows in the plane remained firmly closed, passengers still sleeping through what was the middle of the night from where we departed in New York. They missed the glimmering sea, the shadows cast by the waves. As the depth got shallower and shore approached, they missed the lightening of the water and the ripple of seagrass and rocks that marked reefy ribbons in the white sand. The beach appeared then disappeared quickly, giving way to a patchwork of fields, a quilt of agriculture that blanketed the countryside.

I felt the nose of the plane begin to dip slightly as we began our descent. I couldn't refrain from another sigh, running a hand across the cover of my book, tracing the grooves in the binding before I safely stored it in my bag. I tucked it back under the seat in front of me and sat back, closing my eyes and trying to sleep.

Instead, all I could see was Edward. He had been so broken when he asked me to go! It tore me to pieces to do as he asked, but I had no other choice. I could only envision the glassiness of his teary eyes, reddened and irritated, hard and cold and resolved. The way his lips turned down, the wrinkling of his brow in a frown. I couldn't very well throw myself at his feet in a binding offer of servile obsequiousness, or tie a rope around his waist and loop it around mine so we could never be apart. I couldn't do anything. He always took the lead throughout our entire relationship, dictated the direction we took things and the speed at which we went. I was powerless, incapable of arguing against his decisions, or combatting them.

I had lost.

The plane sunk further down in the sky, and we skimmed through the clouds down enough to see the haze of bright-roofs and green forests that gave way to the shining blue waters of the edges of the Ligurian Sea. It was a blending swirling of turquoise and aquamarine, a dark blue and piercing green that made my heart spasm in my chest and left me gasping for a useless breath.

Thankfully, my seatmate was knocked out by his sedative and finally sleeping soundly, his breaths even and steady as the plane tilted slightly to the side and we circled down the coast to broach the land I had spent the better part of three centuries avoiding.

I missed the days we weren't all so connected, when the world felt huge and distant. Maybe it was grossly old-fashioned of me, but I couldn't help my age. I missed how far away this had all once felt, and how my home on the other side of the world had once felt safe.

Now, my home was no longer a location, but rather a person. The entire world had turned upside down, and I was sat here spinning, gripping the cushion of my armrests as the cabin shook, the plane speeding down to the tarmac it had been directed to.

I sucked in a violent breath, feeling the wheels skip along the runway. My eyes squeezed shut, and I found the rest of my body trembling along with the plane as we braked back into our landing.

I stayed seated, forcing myself to bounce my foot in a human habit of fidgeting so my stillness wouldn't be disturbing to the passengers filing down the aisle to deplane. I couldn't move. I didn't want to be here, but here I was, and there was no turning back.

At least it took the flight attendant a few minutes to rouse the man sitting beside me, blocking my path to the aisle. He had taken the sleeping pill too far into the flight and its effects were obviously still wearing heavy on him. I could smell the sweet tang of melatonin still seeping into his bloodstream, and when he did finally wake, he was mumbling and stumbled out of his seat.

I sighed again but swiftly gathered my bag and ducked out of the row of seats. I stood up to the balls of my feet and easily lifted the man's carry-on suitcase out of the compartment. At least he was so knocked out by the medication that he couldn't muster his usual nervousness around me.

"Have a nice trip," I murmured, slinging my bag over my shoulder and quickly following the rest of the crowd off the plane.

I had no place to be urgently. The only reason I had scheduled my flight so far ahead of time was because Edward had wanted to know exactly when I would leave. Little did I know he would grow so tired of me that he couldn't bear another day, that he would send me away when there was only a few days left until my flight.

But here I was. The sleek leather of my shoes was quiet against the linoleum flooring, and I paced aimlessly down terminal after terminal. The airport was busy and bustling but thankfully outdated, and it was easy to avoid the scant windows and shining sun.

I was ready to leave and just get this over with. Internally, I wanted nothing more than to hop on the next flight to Seattle and leave this wretched country behind without every stepping foot outside. I could beg Edward to take me back, but if he didn't, I had to go on. Alice was still out there somewhere, alone and wandering, likely sunken into a newborn bloodlust that she would need help to escape, and even more support to cope with the aftermath.

And my family was still there. I had to go on for them. The whole reason I was here, as dangerous as it was for me, and not Carlisle, who was so much more well-liked, was to protect them all from what I had brought them into. Caius needed only one flimsy excuse to eliminate us, and exposing our existence to a human would be more than enough proof. With one touch, Aro would know Carlisle's mind and memories, and know we had broken the most sacred of laws.

I was here for Carlisle, too. My oldest friend, my partner. I had spent decade after decade at his side, following him from town to city, holding him back as he fought his thirst and slowly worked to completely master his control. Days stretched to weeks where we sat around, debating philosophy and swapping novels before finally racing each other to whatever forest was nearest.

And Esme, who I couldn't help but think of as my mother, no matter how much older I was- I was doing this for her, too. How many nights had I spent curled up on her lap, her fingers smoothing out my hair as she read to me? Rose, my sister and child of my venom, and Emmett, my brother in every sense of the word. I couldn't tolerate thinking of a world in which neither of them existed.

I was going on for all of them. There was no other choice.

I stepped through a crowd of a Japanese tour group and into a bathroom. There were two other women using the facilities, but it was as quiet as it could possibly be. The stall door clicked behind me, and I slowly undressed myself. I folded my discarded clothes neatly and exchanged them for a pair of dark slacks and a fresh blouse, silky and long-sleeved and the color of fresh cream. I shook my hair out carefully and brushed through the strands, then tied it back in a loose braid that would keep it from tangling when I ran.

Hesitantly, I turned towards the mirror.

I expected horror. Sunken cheeks and sallow skin, black eyes and deep shadows that would seem to indicate the excruciating exhaustion I felt. My body felt like it was caving in on itself, burning and aching and immolating towards implosion.

Instead, I was met with just my face, plain and familiar. Besides the pained frown that had carved itself on my expression, there was nothing different about me. My eyes were a dark gold, fading towards black but still feeding from the blood I had absorbed in my last hunt.

At even the thought, I felt impossibly nauseas again, and turned away. I would have to do. I slipped my light coat over my shoulders, and in the inside pocket stashed Alice's book and my passport. Everything else would have to be disposed of, and the moment the sun set and it was safe, I strode out of the airport. I wiped my phone clear and gave both it and the duffel bag of clothing to a homeless woman I met outside a shabby bar in Sesto Fiorentino. She seemed overwhelmed with gratitude, and it was some small comfort to know how much happier she would be when she discovered the rolls of Euros wrapped neatly and tucked into the socks.

I tried to run mindlessly once the land opened up, letting my feet carry me through fields and farms, darting around towns and evading any humans who crossed my path. I had no memories here, no matter how many times I had passed through these places. Centuries had passed and humanity had moved on, and nothing held any familiarity.

That is, until that sugary scent began to waft through the cool summer night. It was sweet and floral, all mixed together and impossible to distinguish when the scents intersected so frequently.

My improvident pace slowed, and I found myself again still and frozen against the breeze. The lazy mountain crested, and I stood at its peak with a clear view of the valley below. The walls of the city were bright and colorful, but menacing and threatening to those who knew better. The whole city was pressed in on itself, sloping upward as if bowing in reverence to the cathedral in its center, the belltower stretching out to the sky as if it could scrape itself up to the gods themselves.

A cold chill crept through my bones, warring with the burn that smoldered in my chest. I swallowed the venom in my mouth and tried to gain control of my breaths, evening them out to a steady pace that should have been manageable since it was physically impossible for me to hyperventilate. Then again, I thought it impossible to vomit, also, but I had done that a few short days ago.

I felt execrably deracinated, confronting the land of my birth and rebirth, the grassy hillsides I had run through so many times as both a human and vampire. I had always rejected the very basic tenets of nihilism, and it was the one philosophical stance both Carlisle and I could agree on, but it was difficult to not see the profundity in Nietzsche now.

"When you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."