Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just play with them. This story is rated M, and is not suitable for younger readers. Story contains violence, coarse language and sexual "situations". Please do not read if any of these things offends you.

Note: [Beta'ed by: HEAR and Amore]

Chapter 31 – "Quiet"

Edward Cullen POV

Insane. Demented. Mad. Psychopathic. Loco. Loony. Nuts. Bonkers. Deranged. Mental.

Batshit. Fucking. Crazy.

Who the hell were these people?

To say that I was disturbed by Sparrow's story would have been an understatement. I didn't know what to think. It all sounded too incredible to be real, but I had seen the news on TV and I knew for a fact that shit like this happened behind closed doors every damn day. I guess I had just been an ignorant fool to think that this couldn't happen here too, just because it was boring-ass Forks.

Sparrow's voice had been emotionless and detached as she told me about what happened, and I couldn't blame her. The only way she could get through it was probably by detaching herself and pretending it wasn't really her story she was telling. This was the first, and only, time she had told someone about what happened. I may have been an ignorant fool before, but I wasn't ignorant enough to not realize that this shit was huge for her. The fact that she told someone.

The fact that she told me.

When she was done with her story, I really didn't know what the fuck I was supposed to do. I couldn't very well tell her that I was 'sorry' because that was pathetic. It's not like that would be the magic word to fix this. To fix her.

I had a strange, almost overwhelming, feeling of really needing to protect her now. Before it had just been about protecting her from killing herself, and saving myself from getting blamed – now it was all about protecting her from those insane people. I didn't even care what happened to me. If they got their hands on her again, there was no fucking doubt that they were going to kill her. They would go too far.

And none of this was her fucking fault. I wanted to tell her this, but I bit my tongue.

I didn't know why she made me promise not to tell her that. She couldn't honestly believe it was her fault, could she? Apparently, she did. She thought she was to blame, that she had done something to make them believe she was someone she was not. And that was why they hurt her like they did.

But of course it wasn't her fucking fault. She hadn't asked for the last name she was given.

And I told herthat when I couldn't hold my tongue anymore.

She was not very pleased.

I didn't fucking care.

I couldn't take the defeated look in her eyes, but I didn't know what I could do to remove it. At least I understood it now, and I didn't blame her at all. Still, I needed her to fight back, but as long as she felt defeated she would never do it. There was nothing I could do for her, nothing I could say, to make it all okay.

So I did the only little thing I could do. I tried to appeal to herempathetic side. If she didn't fight, they would kill her, and if they killed her they would find another Swan to take her place. And the vicious circle would continue. More people would get hurt. I knew she would never allow that to happen. She didn't want other people to get hurt. Granted, I didn't know her that well – if at all really – but I fucking knew her type. She would rather die than have anyone else get hurt.

We needed to tell someone. Anyone. Someone had to believe us.

I didn't care if I would get into trouble for it. It would be worth saving a life for, right? It would be the ultimate proof of the fact that I was not as bad as people thought that I was.

But right now it wasn't about what other people thought, it was about what Sparrow thought. It was about how I could help her out of this shit-fest and how to make her feel better. The better she felt, the less suicidal she would be… and the greater my chances of keeping her alive would be. No biggie, right? Wrong.

Since my words didn't do much to comfort her or ease her worries, I did the first thing that came to mind.

I kissed her fucking knuckles.

It was such a pussy move I almost wanted to throw up on myself. Who the fuck kisses someone's knuckles? Who was I? Some Shakespeare-douche? I might as well have been dressed in tights. I figured I did it because all girls liked cheesy moves like that, and I thought she would blush scarlet and be all giggly. And if I could produce a giggle out of her I knew I was in the clear… for now. A giggle, a blush and embarrassed look in her eyes would have been a good thing, it would have proved that all was not fucking lost yet. And I would have pick embarrassed over defeated any day, anyway.

But then, as I met her gaze, all those thoughts and hopes disappeared. She looked so defeated.

After she reminded me about the possibility of her dad getting a restraining order put against me, I felt a sudden rush of panic shoot through my body. I tried my best to shove that shit aside. Who cared if he pulled that shit? We just had to be sneakier about our nightly meetings…

A restraining order against me would be the least of our problems. It was a small price to pay if that meant keeping Sparrow alive for a little while longer.

I kissed her knuckles again. For some reason it felt like I didn't do it for her this time. It was fucking weird. Why would I kiss her knuckles if it wasn't for her benefit?

I tried to shake the weird, uncomfortable, feeling off by asking for her phone. I figured that if she had my number she could text or call me whenever her crazy-ass mother decided to try again. This way I didn't need to worry so much.

And we finally established out loud, between the two of us, exactly what we were.

I, Edward fucking Cullen, was now friends with Isabella 'The Goose' Swan.

And it didn't bug me in the slightest.

The past couple of weeks had put everything on edge. I shouldn't be happy about befriending The Goose. I should be worried about my reputation and the fact that she was a freak.

But I wasn't. I wasn't worried at all, and I was… well… maybe not happy, per se, but I wasn't unhappy about it either. It was all just so fucking confusing and I didn't understand it at all. Maybe I wasn't supposed to. Maybe I was just supposed to roll with it.

Friends… huh…

I glanced at Sparrow and noticed her looking at me. Her big, brown eyes were intense and it made me uncomfortable. I hated when she looked at me like that. It almost felt like I was naked – and not the good kind of naked. Not the "I'm about to get laid" kind of naked. This was "You can't hide" kind of naked. I looked away and down at our hands instead. I realized then that we had made a habit of holding hands when we met.

Correction; I have made a habit out of it.

"You think you'll be okay?" I asked quietly, still not looking at her.

She sighed deeply and shrugged. "I don't know."

"If you're ever in trouble or if she tries something with you… just call, okay?" I continued with the same quiet tone.

"Edward." she said, and I could already hear her protesting. "You're fighting a losing batt-"

"At least I'm fucking fighting, unlike some people," I snapped in frustration. "Just do this shit, okay?" I shot my eyes to her, blinking in surprise when I noticed that she was looking kind of amused. I quirked an eyebrow at her in question and she smiled.

"What? I'm not allowed to make a joke?" she asked calmly.

"That wasn't fucking funny," I replied, my voice shaking in frustration. "It took me forever to get you on the right side of this shit, so don't even joke about giving up again. Okay? Just… fucking… don't…"

I pinched the bridge of my nose with my free hand and took a deep breath. She was going to be the death of me, before she became the death of herself. What a fucking mess this was. She squeezed my hand and gave me a gentle nudge.

"C'mon," she said weakly, and I sighed again, squeezing my eyes shut.

"You have any fucking idea how much this shit is stressing me the fuck out? My nerves are practically fried by now and I can't… you can't make jokes about giving up after telling me a shit story like that, okay?" I almost hissed through clenched teeth.

I opened my eyes and let my hand fall down to my side. I turned my head toward her. The amused look was gone from her face.

"I'm sorry," she said, but I didn't want her to be fucking sorry. None of this shit was her fault. I sighed and stood up from the bed. She surprised me by holding onto my hand and holding me back. "Don't go… I'm sorry… I can't… please… Don't go… I don't want you to leave… I… don't… my mom…" she rambled.

I looked back at her at her, and I tried to ignore the pained expression in her face. "I'm not going anywhere, I fucking told you that already. But right now, I need to get home," I said. "I'll be back tomorrow. I promise."

"You promise?" She sounded so desperate, and it was instinct more than anything else that made me sit back down on the bed. It was nothing but instinct that also put my arm around her and pulled her closer to me. She stiffened for a moment, before relaxing.

I ignored the fact that I relaxed the moment I touched her.

This should be uncomfortable… why on earth isn't this fucking uncomfortable?

"Maybe I can stay a little while longer," I replied quietly. "Why don't you try to sleep?"

She nodded softly and closed her eyes. It didn't take long for her breathing to even out, and I assumed she was asleep. Her back was against my side, and she rested her head against the arm that I held around her. Her hair was practically in my face, and every time I breathed I smelled that soft scent of strawberries. I leaned my head forward so my face was just an inch from her hair and took a deep breath. Yeah, strawberries… and freesia… Maybe even a little lilac…

So now you can name a bunch of pansy-ass flowers? Did you forget your dick at home or something?

I leaned back slowly, staring at her head as if I had never seen it before. What the fuck was I doing? Sniffing a girl's hair, holding her hand, kissing her knuckles… what the fuck was happening to me?

She stirred in her sleep, nuzzling her face in my arm and hugging it closer to her. I felt that ridiculous stirring in my stomach again, and it felt like it was spreading to other parts of my body too. What the fuck was this? Disgust? No. That wasn't it. I knew disgust. Disgust is what I felt when Tanya threw herself at me, trying to make me her boyfriend. That was disgusting. But this was… not. It felt kind of… nice.

I looked down at her head again and stroked some hair away from her face. I couldn't see the expression on her face from here, but it was fine. I didn't fucking need to. She was relaxed. She was fucking safe.

That was all that mattered.

"I'll protect you, Sparrow," I whispered, before pressing my lips to her hair, and it felt just as natural as kissing her fucking knuckles. Kissing her felt… natural.

What the fuck is going on?

I closed my eyes for a moment. At least I thought it was a moment. I must have fallen asleep because I felt all groggy and weird when I opened my eyes again. Sparrow was looking at me with a sleepy smile.

"You should leave… I heard Dad wake up a few minutes ago. He's in the shower now, so you better run," she said quietly. I nodded with a yawn as I got up from the bed. I stretched, and my back protested immediately. It was a bitch to sleep in a sitting position… especially if you sat like a fucking sack of potatoes.

I walked over to the window and pushed it open. I glanced over at Sparrow and found her looking at me. I smirked at her and a light blush crept up her cheeks.

"Stay out of trouble today. Okay, Sparrow?" I said to her.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Right back at you, Tony."

I met her gaze and my smirk faded slightly. "I'm going to the same school as Black. You can't expect me to stay out of trouble."

Her amused look faded too and was replaced by a frown. "Leave him alone. You're not going to say or do anything to him or anyone else for that matter."

"We can't stay quiet about this… you have to tell someone… we need to tell someone," I said.

"No. I want us to keep quiet. No one is going to believe us anyway. Just leave it the hell alone, Edward, it is what it is. This is not your choice to make, it's mine. And I'm saying we're keeping quiet," she said sternly.

"Nobody will think you're insane! I don't think you're insane, and shouldn't I be the first one to jump on that train, anyway, huh? The only thing that's insane is that you want to keep quiet about the damn thing. We need to stop your crazy-ass mother, and the only way to do that is by telling someone," I spat in frustration. She looked away and pursed her lips. She knew I was right, but she wasn't going to budge. We had to tell someone.

"Stay away from Jacob, and keep your mouth shut, and we won't have a problem," she mumbled quietly, without looking at me.

"Until your crazy-ass mom comes home and decides it's a good idea to try to kill you again!"

The plumbing in the house suddenly made a weird noise and Sparrow looked up at the ceiling.

"Great," she sighed, as she looked back at me. "He's done in the shower now. You better go. Now."

"See you later," I muttered and quickly climbed out the window.

x x x x x

I didn't bother to try sneaking in today either. The clock on my phone told me it was already past seven, and my whole family would be up by now. When I entered the house I went straight for the kitchen. I was starving and there was no damn use in trying to beat around the bush.

When I walked in, I found them all sitting by the kitchen table. They were the picture perfect family. Dad was reading the paper, dressed in a casual suit. Mom was sketching something on her inspirational pad - which she carried around almost everywhere, so she was ready whenever inspiration struck. And Emmett was shoveling food into his mouth at a frightening speed, as if his life depended on it. They all looked so fucking perfect.

Despite Emmett's lack of table manners.

I wondered how breakfast at the Swan house looked. What did she prefer to eat in the morning? Did the chief read the paper? And what did her mom do? Did she just sit there and stare longingly at Sparrow's neck while daydreaming about her blood? What did crazy people eat for breakfast? Babies?

"Edward? Are you listening to me?" Dad's voice woke me up from my musings and I looked at him.

"What?"

"I said that your car is ready to be picked up today," he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him, and my hands curled into fists by my side. "I don't fucking want my car back. You can drive it off a fucking cliff for all I care," I muttered, and turned toward the fridge.

He frowned and put the paper aside. "Don't worry, I'm not asking you to drive it, or even go with me to pick it up; that's why your mother is coming with me," he replied, still with that annoying calm tone.

"Then what the fuck are you even telling me this for?" I asked. Mom and Dad shared a look before looking over at Emmett. He stopped shoveling food into his mouth and huffed.

He swallowed and pushed his chair back. "I guess that's my cue to leave," he said and left the kitchen.

Dad sighed deeply before looking back at me. "We need to talk," he said.

"Oh, fuck this," I sighed and turned to leave.

"You're not leaving this room!"

I froze in my spot for a moment, before slowly turning around and staring at my mother. From the corner of my eye I could see that Dad was gaping at her as well. Mom never raised her voice, and I do mean never. Especially not at me or Emmett. This was… weird.

She took a calming breath and nodded towards the chair that had been occupied by Emmett.

"Sit," she said evenly and I did as I was told. I didn't dare disobey her now. An angry mom was a scary fucking mom. "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you're not off doing something stupid when you leave the house every night. I believe we have cut you enough slack. We need to see a change in you. That's why your dad is going to take you to the hospital tomorrow and see a colleague of his."

I shot my eyes to Dad and he just nodded.

"I'm not fucking crazy!" I snapped.

"We know you're not," Mom said softly, and patted my hand on the table in a condescending manner. I snorted. It was almost as if I could read their minds at that moment. Their thoughts were so fucking obvious. They wanted me to go into therapy and take meds for whatever they thought was wrong with me.

Meds and therapy were for crazy people. Why did they think I was insane? So what if I didn't like driving or riding in cars anymore. It was understandable, right? I almost killed a girl the last time I drove; of course that made me a little anxious to be around cars. It didn't make me insane enough to require meds and therapy to get better.

I can get over this on my own, thank you very fucking much.

I looked down at the table and I could suddenly feel myself relate to Sparrow's fear. She thought that they would think she was insane. Maybe it wasn't such a farfetched fear in her case either. Her story was so fucking unbelievable, it was possible no one would think it was true. They would lock her up in the loony bin instead of her mother, and she would rot away like a bird in a cage.

In Sparrow's case, one would probably think that ending up in the loony bin was a good thing, considering what she had waiting for her at home. But I knew better than that, I knew her better than that. The loony bin would be a death sentence. Nobody would ever take her seriously again. Everything she said would be considered a joke. And what would happen the day she finally got out? Her mom would kill her.

Staying was a death sentence; speaking up was a death sentence, and the fact that she already wanted to die wasn't really helping me out either. Everything was a fucking death sentence.

I rested my elbows against the table and hid my face in my hands.

If we told someone about her situation and they didn't believe us, did that mean people would think I was crazy too? Would they think I lost my mind in the accident and that I needed to be locked up? My parents already thought I had issues. Maybe this would only fuel that fucking fire.

What the fuck am I going to do?

"We're not crazy… we're not fucking crazy," I muttered into my hands.

"Edward… who are you talking about?" Dad asked, sounding confused and with serious concern lacing his voice. He touched my shoulder and I made no move to try to shake it off. I let him be. This must have made him even more concerned because I could almost feel his hand shake as he squeezed my shoulder softly. "Edward...?"

"If someone told someone else something… something fucking horrible… but that someone wasn't allowed to tell someone else because people would think that someone was fucking insane and that it would get someone committed… what the fuck would you do?" I groaned into my hands. Neither of my parents said anything. I let my hands fall down to the table and I slumped in my chair. They shared a concerned look before they both looked back at me.

"Edward, this wasn't a hypothetical question, was it?" Dad asked, and I clenched my jaw and looked away. He sighed. "Damnit, Edward."

"What have you gotten yourself into?" Mom asked worriedly. "You can tell us, you know that. We won't judge, we just want to help."

I just shook my head and looked down at my hands.

"If something is going on, if someone's in trouble or if you're in trouble, you have to tell us," Dad said. He was trying to keep his voice stern, but his worry overrode everything. I shook my head as I pushed my chair back and stood up.

"I need to take a shower before school," I muttered, ignoring the looks they gave me. Dad sighed and nodded reluctantly. I quickly left the kitchen and ran up to my room.

I barely had enough time to close the door behind me before I collapsed on the floor. I leaned back against the door and pulled up my legs, resting my arms against my knees and my forehead against my arms. I just wanted to curl up and disappear.

Is this how Sparrow felt every fucking day?

I wasn't saying I wanted to die, because that shit would have been messed up. I just wanted to disappear, and that was a totally different thing.

How could she tell me such a fucked up story and expect me to keep quiet? Yeah, I was all for letting people's business be their fucking business, and not getting involved. If Emmett told me that some dude was cheating on some chick, I would just scoff and change the subject. It wasn't my fucking business, so why should I care?

But this was fucking different. I didn't know exactly why it was different, but it was. Maybe it was because they had broken the law.

Yeah, because you're such a fan of 'the law'.

At least I've never tried to murder anyone!

You just tell people that you will.

Fuck you.

I made it to the shower and relaxed in the warm spray of the water. I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against the cool wall.

Was this how it felt when your entire being was being broken apart and you had no way of stopping it? Was this how it felt when your worst nightmares became your reality? Was this how it felt when your view of the world blurred into nothing and became something else? Was this how it felt when you realized that karma really was a bitch?

If Sparrow really didn't want any help she never would have told me. She would have told me to fuck off from day one. She would have killed herself a long time ago. She wanted my help. She wanted anyone's help. She just didn't know it. She also didn't know how to ask for it because of her fucking fear of not being taken seriously.

She had too many damn fears.

No wonder she has no friends.

I straightened up and stared at the wall as if it had been the one saying it.

She had never had any friends at our school, not that I was aware of anyway, and for the first time I actually wondered why. For as long as I could remember she had been The Goose to everyone. People called her that, amongst other things, in the hallways or in the line to the cafeteria, but other than that they mostly left her alone. She was invisible, until she came into their line of sight and they needed someone to put down.

She was nothing to people. Why was that? She wasn't that weird. Honestly, she wasn't weird at all. She could stand up for herself if she needed to, and she was funny. She had a wicked sense of humor and she was honest. Honest and trustworthy.

But people never saw that because none of the bastards who went to Forks High had ever given her a chance. Sparrow wasn't that kind of person who struck up a random conversation with just anybody, and maybe that was why she had fallen into obscurity. She wasn't forward enough, and people saw that as a weakness. High school was all about survival of the fittest, and Sparrow's weakness was enough to become her downfall. Her strengths never had a chance to surface.

I cursed under my breath as I left the shower and went to get dressed. Mom and Dad had already left when I came downstairs. My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I never got anything to eat before my shower. I entertained the idea of maybe skipping school and sleeping all day instead, but I pushed that thought aside. I wanted to find out more about Jacob, and if there was anything else they had done to Sparrow, or any information of value. Maybe I could even find out what they were planning on doing to her next. And when.

To say that I was late when I finally made it to La Push would have been an understatement, but I couldn't care less.M r. Ateara was reading from some old book, and the class turned their heads to stare at me when I walked in.

"Why, Mr. Cullen, I'm glad you finally decided to honor us with your presence," Mr. Ateara said. His dislike for me couldn't have been more obvious even if he had been wearing a damn "I hate Edward Cullen" t-shirt. Leah gave me an amused smile and I smirked back. I guess I wasn't the only one noticing.

I assumed today was going to be just another day where I had to be force-fed a bunch of ridiculous legends. Turns out, I was only partly right. After Mr. Ateara had finished reading whatever-the-fuck he had been reading when I walked in, he began telling us about the history of the town. Real fucking facts at that, shit you could look up in a book at the library, or Google or whatever. Who knew Mr. Ateara knew anything about real stuff? I had assumed he was too caught up in his stupid legends to know anything else.

Leah was waiting for me outside the classroom when it was time for lunch, and we walked together to the cafeteria. The line was short and we went to sit at the same table as yesterday.

The 'bad-ass' table was empty. None of the mutts had arrived yet, and that was just as well. I wouldn't have been able to eat if they had been there. I glanced at Leah, and saw her staring at the cafeteria doors.

"Waiting for someone?" I asked casually. She quickly looked down and I swear to God that she blushed, even though her dark skin covered it pretty well. "Sam?"

"No, I'm not waiting for Sam." She spat his name, sounding offended. I rolled my eyes and took a big bite of my sandwich. We ate in silence for a moment, and it didn't take long for her eyes to wander back to the doors. She quickly looked back down when the doors opened and none other than scar-girl herself walked in. Leah muttered something under her breath and I pursed my lips.

This is going to be interesting…

I put down my sandwich and leaned back in my chair. I crossed my arms over my chest as Emily walked toward us. Leah kept her eyes steady on the table, the cafeteria doors holding no interest for her anymore.

"Hi, Leah, how are you doing?" Emily asked with a light voice. She was hugging a couple of books to her chest, and I cringed at the obvious display of her arms. They were even more disgusting this close.

There were cuts and scars everywhere. The cuts were not limited to the inside of her underarms – they were all around it. One cut in particular looked severely infected, but she didn't seem to care. If she was going to let people cut her like that, why wasn't she taking better care of the wounds afterwards? Dad had told me horror stories about how bad infections could be. Didn't she care that she could get blood poisoning and that she could be forced to amputate her arm? Apparently not. Then again, what did her health matter if she got to spend the rest of her life with her 'imprint'? Fucking idiot.

Leah did what she could to ignore Emily, but Emily kept talking about some gathering.

"… and Jacob will bring Isabella, it's going to be great," she said excitedly.

I tensed at the mention of Sparrow. "Isabella?" I croaked, even though I tried to keep my voice calm and nonchalant, like I really didn't care.

"Yes, Isabella. She's Jacob's girlfriend. But I'm sorry, you can't go. It's Quileute exclusive," she said sweetly, but there was something in her voice that clearly said that she wasn't sorry at all. She looked back at Leah. "We start at eleven, but I think you would want to be there before ten. I hope we'll see you there. Everyone is coming!" Emily's smile was beginning to look awfully fake and forced, and Leah kept staring at the table without a word. "Well, anyhow, that was all… see you tonight!" Emily walked away, and I turned to look at Leah.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"Just more stupid legends crap… nothing to worry your pretty little head about," she said, and patted my head condescendingly. I assumed she was trying to be funny, but I wasn't having it.

"What. Was. That. About?" I asked again. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Nothing! It was just one of those stupid things they do when they think the time is right, and they want to celebrate love or whatever… I don't know what they do at gatherings anymore, I haven't been to one in years. They have a habit of spiraling out of control and they're not what they used to be," she replied with a deep sigh. "Why do you care so much anyway? For a guy who thinks all of this is crap you sure ask a lot of questions."

I pushed my chair back and grabbed my tray. I leaned forward just as I was about to pass her.

"And for someone who says she's not waiting for Sam, you sure do stare at that door and at that empty table a lot," I replied, with my voice close to her ear. She huffed and I chuckled humorlessly as I walked away.

I tossed my entire tray in the garbage before I left. I picked up my phone from my pocket as I walked out from the cafeteria. My fingers flew over the keys as I quickly wrote a text.

"Shit is going down. Stay clear from crazy moms. Be safe or I swear to fucking God…"

I pressed 'send' and sighed deeply.

Shit was about to hit the fucking fan.

And I hoped Sparrow was somewhere safe when it did.

x x x x x

Sparrow never replied to my text. I tried to tell myself that it was because she was in class, or that she had left her cell phone in her locker or something. Or maybe she just read the text and didn't bother to respond. It wasn't like I had ended it with a question or anything, so maybe she thought she didn't need to reply?

But at the end of the day I was more than a little anxious. I told myself she was safe. Why wouldn't she be? She was at school. What could happen to her there? Nothing would happen to her there, especially not with Emmett by her side. She was safe.

Safe.

When I got home I was met by yells and shouts from the living room. I walked in there to see what all the commotion was about. I was not surprised when I found Jasper and Emmett playing their usual video game. I plopped down on an empty chair to watch Jasper kick Emmett's ass, since that's what he usually did.

"Hey, bro," Emmett said, without tearing his eyes off the screen. "Mom put your baby in the garage, so if you want to go fuck the Volvo you're all clear."

"Shut up," I said, rolling my eyes.

I watched them play, and we talked shit for about an hour. It was nice to have a normal moment for once. Just being a fucking teenager, talking shit and playing video games with friends. No worries in the world. It was a nice distraction from the hell that was my life.

"… good thing Bella wasn't in school." Emmett chuckled.

I turned my head to him. "What?"

"Not that you'd care, but apparently Tanya was ready to have her revenge on Bella today, so it was a good thing she wasn't in school. Rosalie heard them plotting in the girl's bathroom… fucking hyenas," he explained, sounding irritated. "Not like you'd care," he pointed out again. I felt the blood rush from my face and I stood up quickly. Emmett rolled his eyes at me. "C'mon, don't even act like you're offended." He scoffed as I ran out of the room.

But I wasn't offended. Not even close. I ran up to my room and picked up my phone again. Still no message from Sparrow. No sign of life. She wasn't safe. Fuck.

I stared at the phone for what felt like an eternity. Finally, I scrolled down to her name in my address book and pressed the green call button. Text messages be damned, I needed to hear her voice.

But I never got the chance. The call went straight to the pre-recorded voicemail.

What the fuck did that mean?

Maybe it meant nothing. I shouldn't be jumping to conclusions. She was probably fine. Why wouldn't she be? Maybe she was just feeling a little under the weather; there was no reason for me to think anything else. Last time she was home from school, when I still went to Forks High, it was because her leg was bothering her. Maybe her leg was back to being a bitch.

Yes. Her leg was bothering her. Of course it was.

I took a deep, calming breath and clutched the phone tightly in my hand.

My first instinct was to run to her house to see for myself that she was okay, but even I knew that that idea was stupid. What if it turned out that she was fucking fine? What the hell was I going to do then? That was like asking for trouble and getting caught for nothing. Fuck.

I would have to wait till midnight like always, and then I would give her a piece of my mind. I would fucking tell her that if I send her a damn text she'd better answer it.

Who the hell did she think she was anyway? Did she enjoy torturing me like this?

Oh, I get it. This is her way of finally getting back at me! By driving me fucking insane!

I'm on to you, Sparrow…

I didn't even realize I was pacing until I jumped in surprise when someone suddenly cleared their throat. I turned my head to the door and found Jasper smirking at me.

"Jumpy," he noted. I snorted and started pacing again. "Why so anxious?"

"Nothing," I muttered. "Just realizing that people are out to get me."

"Wow, since when are you paranoid?"

"Since now, apparently." I picked up my phone again, glancing at the screen even though it would tell me nothing. Jasper frowned and sat down on my couch.

"Seriously, dude, what's up? You're kinda freaking me out here… are you tripping on some bad shit or something?"

"I can't fucking tell you," I said, biting the nail on my thumb. "I can't fucking tell anyone because I promised… and because it would kill her if I did… fuck I don't know… maybe she's just messing with me… not answering my texts… calls just going to voicemail…"

"What the fuck are you talking about? What the hell is in the water in La Push?" he joked, with a humorless chuckle. "And what is this about a girl? Who's the girl?"

"I can't fucking tell you," I said again.

Jasper sighed. He leaned forward where he sat and gave me a stern look. "Seriously, dude, tell me. What the fuck is going on? I hear this shit about you having panic attacks while driving a car… you freak out even when you're near a car… and now you're rambling nonsense about a girl. What the fuck is going on?"

I stopped pacing and stared at him.

Jasper was a trustworthy guy. I could trust him. Totally. I could tell him about Sparrow. He was always Switzerland, so he could give me an objective opinion on the whole thing. He could tell me what the fuck I was supposed to do. He could help out.

Jasper quirked an eyebrow, almost as if he could hear my thoughts, and I shook my head. No, I couldn't fucking tell him. There was nothing he could say or do to help.

"You are going to drive yourself insane with whatever thoughts are running through your head, you know," he said, sighing. He stood up and walked over to my keyboard. "So… are you playing again yet?" I shook my head without looking at him and he smiled crookedly. "Yeah, it figures. Four months and still not a tune. You were never one for getting help," he said, mostly to himself. I wondered if he even intended for me to hear.

"Help for what?" I muttered. "I woke up one morning and there was no muse anymore… so fucking what? Maybe I just outgrew it."

"You? Outgrow music? C'mon, don't be an idiot." He snorted. "You outgrowing music is like… I don't know… Emmett being into dudes?"

I scoffed and shook my head. "I don't think you're too far off there… I've seen the way he's been checking out Newton."

"Be serious, man, what the fuck," he said.

"I am serious," I replied as I checked my phone again.

"You're so messed up," he said. "Maybe you will get your head out of your ass one of these days and realize you need help."

"I'm not fucking crazy!" I snapped and he flinched in surprise. He stared at me wide-eyed and I looked back down at the floor.

"I never said you were," he said slowly. "I just said you need help. You're pacing a hole in the floor right now, so you obviously have issues with something. And I'm just assuming you need help with those issues, or else you wouldn't be pacing. Am I wrong?"

"Fuck you."

"Thought so." He turned and walked towards the door, leaving me to dwell in my own misery. He threw me a look before exiting. "When I say that you need help I'm not talking about shrinks or whatever. And bro, you know that whatever you tell me stays with me. I'm no Emmett. I'm not going to spill the beans to my girlfriend."

"Yeah, I know." I sighed.

"My advice to you is to stop thinking so much. Whatever you're obsessing over can't be worth all the anxiety." He grabbed the doorknob and closed the door behind him, letting that become his parting words.

I stopped pacing and stared at the closed door.

Not worth it? Not worth it?

So saving a life wasn't worth obsessing over? What the hell did he know?

I looked at the phone again. No message. No calls.

I guess I had to continue pacing. At least it killed time.

A while later Mom called me down for dinner. Dad had not come home yet, which was nothing out of the ordinary.

I tuned Emmett and Mom out as they discussed their day's events. Every so often I glanced at the clock on the wall, groaning inwardly when I realized only a minute had passed since the last time I checked. Once, I was even sure the stupid arm went backwards.

Half-through dinner, Dad walked in. He looked tired but content. He gave Mom a kiss before sitting down at his usual place.

"How'd it go?" Mom asked quietly.

"It went very well… she'll live," he replied timidly. "But it was touch and go there for a while…"

"Poor girl," Mom said, nodding.

"What girl?" Emmett asked, with his mouth full.

"I was just ready to leave when a girl was brought in, and I had to perform emergency surgery," Dad said, shaking his head at the memory. I swallowed back the bile that quickly rose in my throat.

"Who was the girl?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"You know I can't disclose that kind of information," he said, looking at me surprised.

I stared down at my plate. Appetite gone? Check.

Dad continued talking to me, telling me something about something, but I didn't listen. I tuned him out completely. All I could think about was how I had failed Sparrow. I was absolutely certain that the girl who had been brought in was her. Who else would it be? All the signs were there. She wasn't in school. She didn't answer her damn phone…

But dad said she would live and that was always something. But at what cost? What did they do to her this time?

"I'm going to my room," I muttered, cutting Dad off mid-sentence. I ignored the looks they gave me as I stumbled out of the dining room and toward the stairs.

I failed her. I fucking failed her.

I failed myself. I fucking failed everything.

I couldn't even keep her safe.

I was soon back to pacing in my room, shutting out the outside world completely.

My plan was still to leave at midnight that was for fucking sure. And I guess I would have to sneak in at the hospital again.

Just like in the good old days…

I tried to distract myself by watching TV for a few hours, but it was fucking useless. I zapped through the channels, and every single one reminded me of Sparrow. If it wasn't a nature show about birds, it was a fucking hospital show with some girl who was abused by her parents.

Was some higher power trying to tell me something?

I glanced at the clock for the fiftieth time in ten minutes. I groaned when I realized not even a minute had passed since the last time I looked. This was fucking it. I needed to get the fuck out of the house, but Mom and Dad were still up. I was obviously not in the mood to have them question where I was going tonight, and if Emmett caught me I knew I was fucked. He would surely follow me and then the secret would be out. Tonight was the night I really had to be sneaky about it. I couldn't risk getting caught.

Fuck.

I rolled out of bed and left my room. If I was going to wait I might as well go downstairs and get something to eat, since I hadn't eaten much at dinner and it would kill some fucking time.

Eating always killed time.

I came downstairs and found not only Mom and Dad, but also Emmett and Rosalie, sitting in the living room, watching a movie. It was disgusting. It was like they were on a double date or some shit.

How pathetic, having a double date with your parents.

"Hey, sweetie, we're watching a movie, do you want to join us?" Mom asked timidly and I shook my head.

"No thanks," I mumbled.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I almost crapped my pants in alarm. I was just passing the couch, where Mom and Dad were sitting, and I stopped as I quickly picked the phone up to read the text.

My eyes went wide and I felt all the blood rush from my face.

"Son? You alright?" Dad asked, and it was almost as if his voice came through a tunnel. I wasn't hearing him right. I didn't answer him. I couldn't even see him; my eyes were focused on something I couldn't even see.

Sparrow.

I turned around quickly and ran towards the front door, with my cell phone tightly clasped in my hand. Dad called after me, but I still ignored him. I just threw open the door and ran out into the cold. Not even bothering to grab my jacket. I had no fucking time. I knew this was fucking it.

The cold air was burning my lungs as I ran down the driveway, but I scarcely noticed.

The text had only contained one word, but it was enough for me to decide that I couldn't wait until midnight.

"Help!"