Here we are with another chapter – earlier than I expected, to be honest – and it may interest you to know that this will be the last one with only the Twilight characters. Next time we'll finally get to see some familiar faces from the other side of this crossover.
She wasn't sure how long she lay there, too stunned to move. At some point she noticed that a red tint had fallen over her vision, which she eventually realized was caused by blood trickling into her eye, and it occurred to her that she should wipe it away, but her hands wouldn't move. She couldn't tell if her body was refusing to respond, or if her brain was simply too foggy to issue the appropriate commands to her limbs.
She didn't think she lost consciousness, at least not completely, though she must have faded out at some point, because the next thing she knew Edward was bending over her, asking frantic questions that she wasn't sure if she answered adequately. Then she suddenly found herself at his house, lying on the living room sofa while Carlisle explained the results of the tests he had performed when Edward brought her in (in the interests of keeping her away from the prying eyes of human doctors, he had somehow managed to procure all the equipment he would need to monitor her recovery in the privacy of the Cullens' home, which he'd set up in his study).
"What happened?" Bella asked him, her voice still weak. "My leg barely brushed that cabinet, so why did it hurt so much?"
"I'm afraid I have bad news," he replied in a grim tone that not even his usually excellent bedside manner could totally conceal. "The number of osteoblasts at the fracture site is much lower than it should be-"
"Huh?"
"Osteoblasts are the cells that build new bone after the damaged bone has been resorbed by osteoclasts," Edward explained with a worried frown that matched his father's. "If you don't have enough of them, it means your leg isn't healing properly."
"That's right," Carlisle confirmed. "The initial burst of rapid healing that allowed you to leave the hospital so quickly appears to have come to an end, and instead of mending, your bone is actually deteriorating."
"What? Why?"
"Your body needs to be healthy in order to repair itself, but my tests showed early signs of malnourishment."
"Malnourishment?" Bella's voice suddenly grew stronger, and she pushed herself up on the throw pillows she was reclining on, almost as if she had taken his diagnosis as a personal insult. "If I'm malnourished, it must be because of the crud they fed me in the hospital, because I've always made sure Charlie and I eat healthy at home. I even buy organic vegetables and grass-fed beef!"
Emmett and Rosalie, who had drifted into the room to find out what the latest Bella-related crisis was about, chuckled at her outrage, and even Esme cracked a smile, but Carlisle's demeanor remained serious.
"I'm sure your diet is very nutritious…for a human. But you are not human, Bella," he said gently. Edward had said that they'd come a little closer to discussing that last night, when she admitted to feeling unsure of her place in the world, but she still seemed to be in a certain degree of denial about her true nature.
Sure enough, her expression instantly became closed off, and she tried to look away, but Carlisle leaned forward, his earnest golden eyes pinning hers. "I'm sorry; I know it's a hard thing to face up to, but this isn't something you can ignore. Now that your fae nature has manifested, you're going to have different needs than you did before, and if they aren't met, your health will suffer."
She swallowed hard before reluctantly asking, "So, what – I need to eat something humans don't, the way you guys drink blood? Please don't tell me it's raw liver."
"I wish it were that simple," Carlisle answered, raising his voice slightly to make himself heard over Emmett's raucous laughter, "but it's likely that the missing element in your diet isn't a physical substance at all. There are many fae species that derive sustenance from feeding on the emotions of others."
Bella stopped shuddering at the thought of raw liver and frowned at him in confusion. "How does that work? I've heard of people eating their feelings, but I thought it was just an expression."
A grin cracked the doctor's somber attitude for the briefest moment before he explained. "Well, it's not really 'eating' in the strictest sense, more of a…psychic transference. Are you familiar with the idea that emotions have a sort of resonance, that they create energy in the atmosphere around us?"
"Sure – when Renée went through her yoga phase, her instructor was always talking about generating positive energy."
"That energy is what fae feed on. Of course, each species is attuned to a different type of emotional energy, a different 'wavelength', if you will, so we won't know what your specific requirements are until we know what you are."
"And if I do this energy transfer thing," Bella asked hesitantly, "will it hurt the person I'm…feeding on?" Merely uttering the phrase out loud caused a flicker of unease to pass over her features.
"It depends on the emotion involved," Edward told her. "There are several fae whose feedings are painless, or even pleasurable. Baku, for instance, take away bad dreams."
"That doesn't sound so bad."
"It's not," Emmett piped up encouragingly. "And don't worry – if you are a baku, we won't let anyone kill you for your pelt."
"What?!"
"The skin of a baku cures disease," Esme said with a slight frown at Emmett, "with the unfortunate consequence that they've been hunted to near-extinction."
"That's awful. Also…pelts?"
"Yeah, they're pretty furry," Rosalie elaborated, "so unless you've sprouted a lot of new body hair recently, odds are you're not a baku."
"Oh. Well, that's a relief, I guess." As cool as curing nightmares would be, Bella didn't want to be covered in fur. "What other types are there?"
"Hundreds," Emmett said bluntly. "We could go down the list, if you've got twelve hours."
Seeing her crestfallen look, Esme tried to offer her a ray of hope. "Sometimes fae will show an affinity for their niche before their powers appear, though. If you think of your talents and inclinations, especially any that have developed in the last few months, that may give us a hint."
"But I don't really have any talents," Bella replied, her shoulders slumping, "unless you know of a book-devouring fae."
"Don't sell yourself short. I'm sure there must be something," Esme said bracingly.
"Edward says she inspired a lot of the new music he's written since he met her, so maybe she's a leanan sidhe," Rosalie mused.
"What's that? Some kind of muse?" Bella didn't think that sounded too bad either, though she couldn't help noticing that none of the Cullens looked terribly enthusiastic about the possibility.
"More like an evil muse," the blonde answered. "They feed on talent and creativity and inspire gifted people to achieve great things – at the cost of their sanity and usually their lives. Most people the leanan sidhe attach themselves to burn out well before they reach a ripe old age."
"It's true," Esme murmured unhappily. "You've heard of the Dutch painter Vincent van Gogh, yes?"
"Of course," Bella said as her stomach clenched apprehensively. "Didn't he cut off his own ear and eventually commit suicide?"
"Tragically, yes. What the historical accounts don't mention is that one of his friends was a leanan sidhe."
"And of course more recent history is littered with examples – actors and musicians who engage in extremely self-destructive behavior. It isn't always fame alone that goes to their heads," Carlisle added.
"Then I definitely don't want to be one of them," Bella declared, reaching out to give Edward's hand an anxious squeeze. "Don't go tearing your ear off for me, okay?"
"I can assure you I've never felt the slightest inclination to do anything like that."
"Even if you did drive Edward nuts, I'm not sure it'd make much difference anyway," Emmett joked, drawing a mock glare from his brother. "Hey, you already hear voices in your head, man."
"Those are others' thoughts, not auditory hallucinations, though they can still be bothersome. That's why you're my favorite sibling," Edward said with a smirk. "Your mind is so quiet, it's almost like there's nothing going on in there."
Rosalie rolled her eyes at their playful exchange of verbal barbs, then walked over to the couch and took a seat at the end, being careful not to bump Bella's plaster-encased foot. The other girl's brown eyes immediately fastened on her, surprise evident in their dark depths; this was the first time Rosalie had voluntarily come within six feet of her.
"Look," the blonde said in a low, serious voice, "you're probably not really a leanan sidhe, but whatever you are, you will have to feed on humans in some way – animals don't have the emotional capacity to generate the kind of energy fae need, so they won't be an option for you like they are for us – and there's at least a fifty-fifty chance it'll be unpleasant for them in some way. For every fae out there that's harmless or even beneficial to humans, there are just as many that feed on negative emotions like anxiety, fear, shame, rage, pain, jealousy, even suicidal despair if you turn out to be an ixtab-"
"What are you saying?" Bella gasped, her already pale face turning stark white with horror. "That I might have to make some poor person off themselves every time I need a snack?"
"That's enough, Rose," Esme said sharply. "She doesn't need to hear this right now."
"I think she does," Rosalie disagreed, though she was careful to keep her tone respectful while speaking to her surrogate mother, the matriarch of her coven. "She needs to start wrapping her head around what being fae truly means. She wanted to be part of our world, and maybe I can understand that on some level; when you're on the outside looking in, I guess the fae world might seem more exciting than the human one, but it can also be brutal and vicious. The sooner she gets that, the longer she'll live."
With that, she stood up and marched out of the room. Emmett followed her, hoping to pull her out of the cynical mood she'd talked herself into. Seeing Bella's eyes film over with tears as she absorbed Rosalie's words, Carlisle and Esme locked eyes across the room and made their own swift exits, having silently agreed that she and Edward needed a moment alone together.
He glanced up just long enough to shoot them a grateful look before turning his full attention to Bella just as her tears spilled over.
"I can't do this. If I have to hurt people to keep myself alive… I can't do it. I don't want to live like that."
Edward took her face in his hands and leaned in until their noses were nearly touching, making no effort to hide the panic in his eyes as he gazed pleadingly into hers. "Don't say that, Bella, don't ever say that. Please – I need you. I love you."
She tried to shake her head, to look away, but couldn't move even a fraction of an inch, so she squeezed her eyes shut instead, unable to bear seeing the anguish in his face. "I'm sorry, Edward. I love you too, but I don't want to be a monster. You've found a way not to, by only feeding on animals, but if that's not an option for me… After everything you and your family have done to avoid hurting people, to not have that on your conscience, how can you expect me to be okay with it?"
He didn't have an answer to that, because she was absolutely right; it wasn't fair to expect her to make moral compromises where he was unwilling to do the same, to resign herself to an existence that would leave her constantly tormented with guilt and self-loathing – especially when he knew firsthand how miserable a condition that was – just so he wouldn't have to lose her. He recovered quickly, though, and switched tacks.
"Before you consign yourself to a slow death by starvation, don't you want to at least try to find out what you are? It might not be as bad as my sister made it out to be."
"Sure," she said dully. "Got any ideas on how to do that?"
It was clearly meant as a rhetorical question, but he surprised her by saying, "As a matter of fact, I might. Jasper and I went to Seattle this morning, to meet with a contact of his who's been making inquiries into your adoption-"
Bella suddenly sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing. "Jasper's been looking into this, huh? Without telling me?"
"Well, we didn't have much time to talk while you were in the hospital," Edward pointed out, "and when we did, you were…preoccupied. In any case, I didn't want to get your hopes up until Jasper's contact actually found something, and yesterday he finally did. It seems you're not the only fae to be raised among humans."
Bella's narrowed eyes popped wide open, her lips parting in shock. "Are you serious?"
"I know, I can scarcely believe it myself…but according to Jasper's source, another fae was recently discovered in Toronto with a story that matches yours exactly – adopted by a human couple, claimed to have been completely ignorant of their true nature and origins until they drew the attention of the local supernatural community."
"So who is this person? Has anyone figured out how it happened to them?"
Edward shook his head. "Details are frustratingly hard to come by, I'm afraid." At Bella's incredulous look, he elaborated, "What you have to understand is that Toronto is essentially the fae capital of the world; it's where the supreme leaders of both the Light and Dark factions have their primary residences as well as the center of our government, so for someone to appear out of thin air right under their noses, as living proof that all the safeguards they've put in place to keep track of their citizens, and specifically to prevent orphaned or abandoned fae children from ending up in the care of humans, aren't infallible… I can only imagine what a huge embarrassment that must have been. It's no wonder they tried to keep it under wraps. Luckily for us, Jasper's contact knows people who are very good at ferreting out information, even if all they were able to give us this time was a name and phone number."
He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a folded piece of paper, which she took but didn't open. "If this other fae doesn't know any more than I do," she said thoughtfully, "how does contacting them help us?"
"They found her – or she found them – a few months ago. Rumor has it that she's been conducting her own investigation since then, and if she's had any success at locating the person or people responsible for facilitating her own 'placement', it may shed some light on your situation. If the same people arranged your adoption as well, they'll be able to lead us to your birth parents."
Bella's fist clenched, crushing the paper into a ball which she angrily shoved into the pocket of her sweatpants, as if she couldn't stand to touch it a moment longer. "And what," she demanded in a voice that shook with barely contained fury, "makes you think I want to find them?"
Edward was taken aback at her reaction, his excitement over the potentially momentous discovery crashing down faster than a balloon that had been shot out of the sky. "We need to. They're the only ones who can tell us-"
"I don't care! I don't want anything to do with them!"
"I understand why you feel that way, but we don't know anything about them – who they are, the circumstances that led them to do what they did…"
"I know everything I need to," Bella spat. "They abandoned me, Edward! If they couldn't take care of me themselves, they could've put me in fae foster care, where at least I would've been raised by people who know about this stuff; instead they dumped me with humans, and you said whatever's happening to me now would've happened when I turned eighteen even if I never met James, right? Him biting me just sped it up?"
"That's right."
"So whatever I am, whatever my…dietary requirements…are, if I hadn't gotten lucky for once in my life when I stumbled across a family of vampires, I wouldn't have a clue what's going on. My biological relatives-" She placed a very deliberate emphasis on the word, making it clear that as far as she was concerned, they didn't deserve to be referred to with such terms as 'parents' or 'family' "-must've known that, and they ditched me anyway. If you think I'm going to go crawling to them now, expecting them to help me, you're delirious."
She made her voice as flat as possible and gave him her best stubborn glare, trying to communicate in no uncertain terms that the subject was closed. She was adamant that he wasn't going to dazzle or cajole her into changing her mind this time, and braced herself to resist when she saw him gearing up to try. Before he could say anything, however, her phone rang.
Grateful for the distraction, she snatched it off the coffee table, then groaned when she saw the caller's name. "Charlie – great. Just what I need right now." She set the phone aside and rubbed at her forehead, hoping to massage away the pressure building inside her skull, only to lower her hand in surprise when Edward picked up her phone.
"Good afternoon, Chief Swan. Before you ask, Bella is with me; we're at my house."
That seemed to reassure Charlie enough that he didn't start yelling, yet she was still able to hear his response fairly well. "Is everything okay? When I got home, there was food sitting out on the counter and the lid to a jar on the floor."
"Yes, Bella said she was making a sandwich when she dropped the lid, then fell while trying to pick it up. I found her on the floor and brought her to Carlisle. She isn't hurt," Edward continued over Charlie's exclamation of alarm, "apart from a small cut on her head." (Bella wished he hadn't mentioned that, but since it was unlikely that Charlie wouldn't notice the new Band-Aid on her temple, she supposed he didn't have much choice.)
"But it's nothing serious?" Charlie demanded, still breathing hard as he calmed himself.
"Just a flesh wound, though I thought it would be best to have Carlisle check it anyway."
"Yeah, good idea. Can I talk to her?"
"Of course. One moment." He looked over at Bella, then frowned when he saw her frantically shaking her head. Covering the mouthpiece, he said, "Bella…"
"I'm sorry," she interrupted. "I don't think I can deal with this right now."
Edward's frown deepened. "I know you're still angry with him, as well as feeling overwhelmed with everything we've just discussed, but this has been hard for him too. You can't avoid him forever, Bella. He deserves better than that."
She blanched under the look he gave her; it wasn't like he had never spoken forcefully to her before, even disapprovingly, but that usually only happened when he thought she wasn't taking her safety seriously enough, particularly with regard to the dangers he himself posed to her. This was the first time he'd made her feel ashamed of her own behavior. Swallowing as best she could through her tightly constricted throat, she mutely held out her hand for the phone.
When he gave it to her, she placed it gingerly against her ear, almost as if she expected something to slither out of the speaker and bite her, and squeaked out a nervous, "Hi."
"Bella? What's the matter? Edward said you fell down and hit your head… Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yeah." Her voice came out in a strangled croak; clearing her throat, she tried again. "I'm fine – just got a fresh bruise to add to my collection. Sorry if I freaked you out."
"Freaked me out?" he repeated incredulously. "First you run off and almost get killed falling out a window, then I come home and you're gone again… I just about had a heart attack."
The note of fear in his voice that was barely hidden under a thin veneer of gruff indignation – the kind of fear that only came from love – unexpectedly brought tears to her eyes, forcing her to blink rapidly to clear her vision. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
Her obvious remorse, coupled with the fact that he couldn't exactly blame her for seeking medical attention after her fall, seemed to take the heat out of Charlie's righteous outrage. "Just get back here, okay? Do you need me to come get you?"
"No, Edward can drive me. I'll be home soon."
###
They arrived to find Charlie pacing the narrow front hallway between the kitchen and living room, though he spun to face them the second they came through the door. "Thank goodness you're back."
Edward took one look at his expression, which was an incongruous mixture of relief and frustrated worry, and quickly backed out again, closing the door behind him.
Left alone with Charlie, Bella shifted awkwardly on her good foot, looking everywhere except directly at his face. "Hey." The word felt woefully inadequate, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.
Charlie responded with a tense, jerky nod. "Come here; we need to talk."
Unlike last night, it wasn't a request, so she acquiesced without argument and let him usher her into the living room, where for once there was no sportscaster's commentary blaring from the TV; in fact, the screen was blank and the remote control still in its place on the shelf, indicating that Charlie hadn't even turned it on since he came home. They sat down on the couch, keeping some distance between them, then stared at each other, neither knowing how to break the uncomfortable silence that seemed to expand inside the room like a cloud of poisonous gas, crowding out every last molecule of air.
Finally unable to stand it any longer, Bella steeled herself and looked straight into her adoptive father's eyes, which were so close to her own shade of brown that it was no wonder she had never questioned her paternity…except, according to Edward, her eyes weren't always brown these days.
"Look," she said softly, "I really am sorry for scaring you."
Charlie exhaled loudly before answering. "When I came in and saw that the house was empty…I thought you'd taken off again."
"And left the food out to spoil? If I wanted to leave home, I'd at least clean up after myself first."
The look he gave her in response told her that her attempt at humor had fallen flat. "I know you've been having a tough time coming to terms with…with the adoption and everything…and you were right when you said Renée and I really dropped the ball there. We never should've let you find out the way you did."
"Thank you," Bella said quietly, dropping her gaze to where her hands lay folded in her lap. "I'm glad you see that…and yes, it would have made things easier if I'd heard it from you…in some ways. It would've solved half the problem, anyway."
"What do you mean?"
Her eyes darted up again as she wondered if she'd said too much. Still, having opened the door, she decided she might as well follow through. "Well, you don't know where I came from, do you?"
"No," Charlie said with a regretful shake of his head. "I wish we'd thought to ask so I'd have some answers for you now, and I can't believe how little I remember about the day you were given to us…"
"Didn't it ever bother you, not knowing anything about me?" Bella pressed, leaning forward slightly. "Did you ever wonder if there might be something…wrong with me?"
"Wrong with you? There's nothing wrong with you," Charlie said vehemently, sounding offended by the very idea. "What do you mean by that?"
Her fingers picked nervously at the sofa cushions as she searched for a way to hint at the issue without actually revealing anything that would endanger him. "You know… Like if I had some kind of disease or something."
"No, we never worried about that," he replied at once. "Except for all the bumps and bruises you got from tripping over stuff, you were always very healthy. Remember that winter when half your first grade class was out with the flu, and you never even got a sniffle?"
"Some diseases take years to show up," Bella muttered.
"Like Parkinson's or Huntington's, you mean?" Her fiddling with the cushions was starting to drive him crazy, so Charlie laid a hand over hers – the first time he'd touched her since her return from Phoenix – causing her to look up in surprise. "Bella, where is this coming from? There's no reason for you to be worried about having some genetic disorder…is there?"
She shrugged, once again deciding to dance around the truth. "Carlisle said my leg's healing slower than normal."
Although she tried not to sound overly concerned, she couldn't stop her voice from cracking the tiniest bit. Charlie's face softened in sympathy, and he pulled her into a hug without stopping to think of how she might react. Her muscles automatically tensed, but then the much-needed familiarity of his scent and the feeling of his arm wrapping around her back overwhelmed her defenses, and she burrowed into his shoulder.
"It's probably just a little setback – nothing to worry about," he said soothingly. "You've been under a lot of stress lately…and if there is something more serious going on, I'm sure Carlisle will figure it out. He's a pretty smart guy, so don't get yourself all twisted up over this. Whatever it is, we'll handle it, okay?"
"Okay," Bella mumbled. She didn't have the heart to tell him that if she didn't find out what essential component was missing from her diet soon, and if it wasn't something she could live with, there would be no 'handling' her condition. She would continue wasting away until the process of starvation reached its inevitable conclusion, and while she thought she could accept death if the only alternative was becoming a monster – at least she hoped she would be brave enough to make that choice – the thought of making Charlie watch her decline brought on a fresh wave of tears. Making Edward suffer through it would be bad enough, but at least he would know why it was happening, and hopefully one day he would understand that it was for the best. There would be no such closure for Charlie, though.
Her arms tightened around his midsection as she considered the impact her mysterious demise would have on him, and in that moment her wounded feelings and petty grievances seemed incredibly insignificant. If there was a chance that their time together might end soon, she didn't want to waste what they had left holding a grudge over past mistakes.
"Thanks…Dad."
###
A short time later, she went outside to find Edward sitting on the front porch, watching what amounted to a sunset in Forks; the sun wouldn't actually sink below the horizon for another forty-five minutes, but thanks to the towering trees, the scant light that had managed to penetrate the cloud cover was already fading. Setting her crutches aside, she carefully lowered herself to sit beside him.
"You were listening, weren't you?"
He confirmed her suspicion with a nod before turning his head to look at her, the intensity of his liquid gold stare making her breath catch. "I'm not the only one who would be devastated by your loss, you know."
"I know." She took a deep breath. "That's why I have to exhaust every possible avenue for finding out what I need to survive before I give up. Who knows, maybe you're right about it not being as bad as Rosalie said – maybe I really can get by with raw liver." Her lip curled in disgust at the thought, but eating something unappealing would be better than hurting people – or worse, driving them to hurt themselves.
"Hmm, I've never heard of a fae with a fondness for liver…although there is a type called an aswang that eats the flesh of diseased corpses," Edward said brightly.
Bella couldn't think of any words that would adequately express how she felt about that possibility, but her look of horror and revulsion said it all.
"It's not as bad as it sounds; like vultures, aswangs perform an essential function by removing pathogens from the ecosystem. Some people estimate that without them, casualties from the Black Death could have been anywhere from forty to sixty percent higher."
"Great," she said in a wooden tone that eloquently conveyed her lack of enthusiasm, "I could be a vital ecological link. Think Charlie will mind if I start keeping plague-ridden body parts in the fridge?" An absurd mental image popped into her head of him reaching past a severed foot to get his morning orange juice, making her snort out loud.
Although he couldn't see what she was imagining, Edward pictured something similar, and the image made him laugh out loud – a rare genuine laugh, rather than his usual wry or sardonic snickers. Did I ever laugh like this before I met Bella? Even with his excellent memory, he couldn't be certain.
"You can keep all the body parts you like at my house," he promised. "Esme loves it when you eat there; she's always delighted when she actually gets to use the kitchen."
"Right," Bella scoffed. "Somehow, I doubt cooking with cadavers is what she had in mind." Still, she couldn't stop one corner of her mouth from turning up at the ridiculous turn their conversation had taken.
Sensing that her mood was lightening, Edward decided to chance broaching a more sensitive topic. "Does this mean you've decided to check out the information Jasper got for us?"
Bella's grin vanished instantaneously, her attitude turning deadly serious as she squared her shoulders in a resolute posture. "I have."
She fished in her pocket for the piece of paper she had carelessly crammed into it back in the Cullens' living room. "Let's see if this-" There was a pause as she carefully smoothed out the crumpled wad, squinting in an effort to decipher the spidery handwriting that was now distorted by the creases in the paper "-Bo Dennis can give us some answers."
And there we have the setup for introducing our other heroine – but before we catch up with Bo, I couldn't resist giving Bella's relationship with Charlie a little more screentime, because I felt bad for him with how often he got shut out of her life. In this story I think he'll also serve as her biggest link to the human world as she gets pulled deeper into the supernatural one, so I needed to at least get them started on mending the rift between them.
Just for fun, I've also compiled a list of when each of the fae species that've been referenced so far in this story appeared in Lost Girl, in case anyone wants to refresh their memory:
Akvan (mentioned in the previous chapter) – 2x16
Baku – 2x03
Leanan sidhe – every episode Evony appeared in, though we didn't find out what she was until 2x06
Ixtab – 3x04
Aswang – 1x06
…And of course we know all about the wolf-shifters. FYI, Lost Girl's and Twilight's lycanthropes will be the same species, with a blend of traits from both series and a few small tweaks to iron out any discrepancies.