Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. All grammar mistakes are unfortunately mine.

Time for some Edward. He's a little dark in this chapter, so be patient with him please. And me. Thank you ;)

Chapter 8

It happened again.

We got attacked once more. Just after it was pronounced this morning that it was over, after all these years of bloodshed, it was supposed to be over. We were supposed to be safe.

But it was all a lie.

Thousands upon thousands died that day.

But the only one I cared about, the only one that was there for me was gone.

See, I had no parents, no siblings, no friends I could call my own. I was all alone. Until I met her. It was unexpected.

It was beautiful.

It was rare.

Just like she was.

A ray of sunshine after the bloodshed rain.

She was supposed to be my beginning, until she was my end.

I don't think I have ever truly admitted to myself, but the first time I have met her in that hospital bed, the first time I've heard that voice, looked at her beautiful doe eyes was the first time I knew this was the miracle I was looking for. Searching for so long.

It was too damn bad it was at the wrong place and the wrong time.

Why was that, I asked myself.

Why were we always finding each other when we found ourselves?

Always at the wrong time, and the wrong place.

Or was it really?

Were we on this earth, finding each other again and again, only to teach each other what we could not on this earth? This beautiful yet confounding place we call home?

I sighed, frustrated, deciding to get out of bed and take a short walk, tired of these philosophical nonsense.

I take the stairs, tiptoeing to the door, ever so silently, not trying to make it creak, and finally after what felt like eternity, I get to the highest floor, and on to the balcony. I finally take a breath of relief, and search for my stash of cigarettes that was hidden between the pot of flowers and the ugly looking frog that was leaning next to it. For who knows what reason, every time I kneel next to it, I pat it one the head, thanking him for watching over it.

I had even talked to it a few times.

Fucked up, I know.

Told you, only way you come out of this place is in a bag, or even worse...completely sane.

Which is worse? Sometimes I wonder...

Lighting up a cig, I take a long inhale before I blow it out.

It's one of those days- if you notice such things- cold as fuck...sure, but still...there are even a few stars shining, blinking, as if they are looking at you...talking to you...assuring of good things to come.

Told you...insane motherfucker here.

Insane in the membrane...insane in the brain...crazy insane, got no brain...

"Jesus Christ," I grumble to myself, taking another big inhale, and rubbing my exhausted, disgusting face before there is a sound of doors opening wider.

I freeze.

Fuck, am I going to get in trouble? I mean, I've been sneaking around for weeks and no one had been the wiser, but I guess, nothing good lasts forever.

A shadow comes closer to me, only to realize that it is none other than our hospital shrink.

Why the fuck is she still here?

"Why the fuck are you here?" I yell out, harshly than intended.

"No need to be hostile, Mr. Cullen. Besides, shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?" a curious eyebrow lifted in question.

I shrug, trying to be nonchalant. What's the worst they can do?

Kick me out?

I smirk with pleasure. " Yeah, well..." letting the sentence be filled with silence.

I expect her to start with one of her famous speech about...shit, I don't know. I've never listened to one of her shitty speeches, because let's be honest, they were always boring and never contributed anything to my sanity.

To my surprise, she utters something I've never thought she would.

"Can I ask for one?"

I stare in confusion, "one what"?

"Cigarette", she adds, as it's obvious.

It was. Just not to me.

"Oh. Sure."

Taking the spare out of my robe, I give it to her.

She takes it in her mouth, and without thinking- almost as a gentleman, or some shit- I light it for her.

She gives me a slight smile, followed by a thank you nod.

A moment of silence envelopes us, before she starts talking.

She's one of those, it seems. The one where she has to fill the awkward silence, instead of letting it hang in the air.

"So..." she starts, letting out another puff of smoke in the chilly air.

"What's troubling you tonight? Another nightmare, perhaps?"

"Who says I have nightmares?" I ask, judging her tone.

"Let's cut the bullshit Edward, pardon my French. If you think that we don't know you've been coming here for the past few weeks smoking and doing god knows what elese, you've got that shit wrong. We are all here to help you guys, not to judge you. Don't think..."

"Sorry for the interruption, but you don't know shit about me or why I"m here..."

"Then stop acting like a petulant child, and accept that where you are right now is not ideal, but it is on the road to get better."

I laugh ironically. " Doc...does this look like I'm getting better? " I ask, looking her directly in the face for the first time since I've been here.

She says nothing, so I continue.

"I look like shit. I haven't eaten, or slept for who knows how long. I keep getting this shitty nightmares about..."

"The girl, right? Bella, is it? Or is it Brittany..."

"How...how the fuck do you know..."

"I hear you...we can all hear you when you scream at night..."

"What?"

"Yep. Every night like clockwork."

I quickly change the subject, not wanting to think about this right now.

"Why are you here...I mean...sleeping here, instead of going home? Don't you have a husband, a boyfriend, or...something?"

She laughs sardonically at "something".

Guess I'm not the only one that's shitty at that.

"Long story", she adds, taking another smoke before throwing the bud on the floor, stomping on it.

"You wanna talk about it?" she asks, knowing what my answer already is.

"Nope, you?"

No answer. Figures.

"Well...Isn't love fucking grand?"

For some reason her response caught me of guard. My face does something it hasn't done in a long time. I stretches in to a smile. A genuine one this time.

"Well, shit doc, looks like we are both in a shitty situation."

She gives me a look that says, "you have no idea".

Taking the bud and stashing it into a pot, she turns around and says, "You know, when you get tired of being a big boy, and let that big ego of yours go, you can ask for help. I'll even make a deal. You can talk about your problems, and in return, I'll tell you all about mine. You know where to find me. Good night Edward."

And with that, she is gone.

Every week, there is a gathering that we have to attend to, where we sit around in a circle and talk our feelings out. And quite frankly, it's boring as shit. There is always one person if not two who end up with tears in their eyes, talking about being better for their daughter or their father, or even wanting that redemption but didn't know how to get it.

I don't have that problem.

Correction.

Nobody in my family has that problem with me, since they don't even wanna acknowledge me. As they said, I am no longer a Cullen. I don't deserve to wear such a noble name.

Fucking fine with me. One less family I have to worry about betraying. Or asking for forgiveness.

Did it bother me at the beginning? Sure, but after they disowned me, it became easier for me not to give a shit about anything else, including myself.

As expected, there is a cry at the end of a meeting, with a there, there pat on the shoulder. So fucking monotonous.

Usually, every week, they skip me altogether, because, well... it's obvious I don't wanna communicate or even acknowledge my presence, which is why I'm startled when my name is called.

"Edward? Would you like to say anything today? Anything that troubles you? That you want to get out of your chest?"

Here is where it gets interesting.

My mouths opens up, ready to say, "hell no", but what it does is, it tricks me. Stupid brain.

"I, uh...had a nightmare. Again."

The shrink nods eagerly, in anticipation for more.

"Can you tell us more?"

Some look right at me, while others right through me. It creeps me out.

"Uh...it was...ugly."

The shrink nods once more, sympathy in voice. "Okay. Do you maybe wanna share what it was about?"

The interesting part was, after yesterday night, I kinda do, but the way these weirdos are looking at me? Not really. So I try to say as little as possible.

"It's about...a girl. Woman. Every night she is in my dreams, and every night she dies in my arms, and there is nothing I can do. It makes me...uncomfortable and like...like I'm...incapable to stop it...like I'm powerless, even in my dreams. Especially in them and it...it kills me. All this anguish and hurt I feel is so deeply rooted in me I can't...I can't escape it. It makes me tired. So, when I wake up, I can't eat. Can't sleep...It...it consumes me entirely. So...yeah..." I finish lamely.

There are shocked faces everywhere, as if they are seeing me for the first time.

I don't like it.

Fortunately, the shrink realizes this, and decides to end our session for the day.

"Well, that was excellent work for today. Great job everybody. See you next week."

I quickly get up, moving away from the looks and the whispers that are clearly about me, and just let my feet guide me wherever they want. Unfortunately, they guide me to the shrinks office.

Without my permission, my hands do the rest, knocking on the door.

"Come in," she answers.

For the first time, I recognize her written name on the door.

It says Doctor Kate Ashley Wilson.

Huh. Okay then.

"Hey doc. I've come to say yes..."

"To?" she asks, as if she doesn't know already.

"Our deal. You tell me yours, I tell you mine. Tit for tat. No pun intended, of course."

My smile is devilish, because, fuck, we both know it absolutely was.

She gets up from her desk chair, lifting up her hand in agreement, a grin in place.

"Deal."

I nod, shaking her hand. "Deal."

And that is how I, over the next few days, shared my complete fucking story to a stranger. And it felt liberating.

Thanks for reading!