Forks, Washington. Thursday, September 4th, 2005:
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
"How are you doing today?"
Kit shrugged her right shoulder, sinking into the soft suede brown couch, closest to the wall, with dark orange and red throw pillows. Across from her, next to a large desk, was a matching brown armchair.
It was a small space. Next to the couch, there was a small round table with books about self-love and courage on top as well as a box labeled 'Coping Skills'. There was a small bookshelf and atop that, it held a large notepad, a cup of pens, and a dim lamp.
In the corner of the room was another desk that held a coffee pot, a few boxes of decaffeinated tea, and a plastic bowl full of marbles.
"Kit?"
Kit flicked her eyes up, meeting a pair of brown eyes, thick lashes coated with black mascara. The woman who sat across from her in the brown armchair wore gray pants and a lavender shirt that showed off the sun damage on her chest. She had ginger brown hair that was pulled into a fancy knot at the back of her head. She always looked like she had run the mile with the constant tinge of rosy pink under her tanned white skin. There was a wedding ring on her finger and she looked young and peppy.
This was her therapist, Rachel.
"Are you not feeling well?" Rachel asked worriedly, "I know your Thursdays are really long. Do you need something?"
"M'okay," Kit mumbled. She shrugged her right shoulder again, "Um," she glanced to the left, then back, "I'm nervous about…Saturday"
This was what Rachel had been waiting for her to say. Kit could tell by the way she nodded and regarded her curiously.
"Right," Rachel drawled, "You're seeing your boyfriend for the first time since going home."
"Yes," Kit exhaled softly. She looked down at her lap, "Um, his family, too. I think Emmett's…he's coming to get me with Carlisle."
"Do you think Dr. Cullen's presence will make this easier?"
"I hope so," Kit admitted, "I mean," she sighed, her breath catching, "I don't know. They've all been really nice to me even though I haven't been talking to them. Emmett's sent me…" she stopped again, biting her lip, "Um, he's done it before, I think. T-they were really pretty and stuff and Alice brought me some really comfy clothes that they don't wear anymore and that was really nice."
She was wearing a couple of the clothing items, now.
Rachel nodded softly, waiting for her to continue.
Kit bit her lip, "I—I feel like I sound stupid—I'm just anxious. I'm scared that they'll make fun of me or look at me like I'm stupid."
"Have they done that before?"
Kit pressed the heel of her hand to her eye as she began to tear up and she sniffled, reaching out when Rachel handed her a tissue.
"I don't know," she whimpered. She gasped out a sob and coughed once, "No."
"What is it, Kit?" Rachel implored when she said nothing else, "Tell me what you're thinking."
Kit took a minute, struggling to put her thoughts into words.
"I…feel—I'm a mess and I'm scared that I'll be too much of a problem or too much to handle and then Emmett will break up with me or I won't be able to go around them, anymore," her face crumpled further, "I-I'm trying, but I k-know M'not the same and I'm scared they'll be m-mad at me."
"Well, first," Rachel started, scribbling something down, "What have I told you about insulting yourself?"
Kit took more tissues from the pastel blue box that Rachel had placed beside her, trying to calm down so that she could talk.
"Um," her brow furrowed as she tried to recall, "That it's…it's…" she began to rub her forehead, then scratched her temple.
'What is it?' she thought, 'I did my homework and I saw Connie all ready…'
"The bad one," she tried to force confidence in her tone, "Like, the not good—the bad thinking, right? That one."
When Rachel continued to stare at her expectantly, Kit felt her face crumple again and her body jerked with a sob.
"Hey, Kit? It's okay," Rachel soothed, "It's okay. I know you've been working really hard with Connie. We checked-in the other day. She says you're making progress and everyone is so proud of you."
Kit shrugged, rubbing at her eyes, "I-I guess," she sniffled.
"I'd really like you to try and think of the word," Rachel said gently, "I know I'm not Connie, but I could draw a picture for you?"
Kit shook her head vehemently, "Mm-mm."
The only sounds were her crying and the tick of the wall clock. She had a lot on her mind and she didn't want to spend what was left of her hour, doing her other therapies. She hoped, that if she was quiet long enough, Rachel would tell her the word.
After two minutes went by, Rachel did, her tone reluctant, "It's negative. Negative thinking, Kit."
'Right,' relief washed over Kit and her body relaxed as her brain registered the word, 'I'm such an idiot.'
"Negative t-thinking," she echoed. Her voice was raspy.
"And what did I tell you about negative thinking?"
Kit wiped her nose, her lower lip trembling, "N-negative thinking…leads t-to negative consequences."
"That's right," Rachel nodded, "Before we go on, can you tell me what type of negative thinking that was? I know you've been doing your homework."
Kit nodded, trying to think. Her CBT homework was one she could usually do by herself, but it was still hard to remember sometimes…she had worked on it earlier…
She was given the 'negative' word and she only needed the other one, "Negative…Self-Labeling…?" she hiccuped hesitantly, looking to Rachel for confirmation.
"Yes," Rachel smiled proudly at her when she made eye contact, writing something else down, "That's right, wonderful and that's something we're going to continue to work on. Now, secondly, I've never met Dr. Cullen's family and I can't predict the future of your relationship with them or with Emmett. Do you think they're the type of people who will toss you aside when things get hard?"
Kit frowned at the word 'when', but didn't press it.
"No," she answered, "Emmett's not like that at all," she balled up her tissues, wiping them under her eyes.
Rachel smiled, "I'm not going to lie to you and say that it's going to be easy. You've been through something very traumatic…and you survived. Yes, there are long-term effects and I know they've been hard to deal with. There are both internal and external scars, physical, emotional, and mental; but you're healing and you took time for yourself to grieve and process. To get help. There's nothing wrong with that and you won't be criminalized."
Feeling more tears build up, Kit pulled out more tissues.
She missed Emmett dearly. She missed Alice, she missed Esme, she missed Jasper and…and…the rest of them.
She had spoken to Esme on the phone a couple of times in the past four months and she had only spoken to Emmett once, thanking him for the—she could picture it in her mind. Pretty, thick green stems and different, colorful blossoms on top in all sort of shapes and sizes. She knew what they were and saw them all the time. She just couldn't think of the word.
Not wanting to dwell on it, she said, "There's nothing wrong with it," she repeated Rachel's words, "And I know I still have a long way to go, but…" she cut herself off, "Maybe I should take some more time? I-I don't know if M'ready," she shrank further into the couch.
"I think the interaction will be good for you," Rachel said in her soothing, therapist voice, "We've talked about how lonely you are and that you've missed Emmett and his family. Think of it like this: when Dr. Cullen and Emmett come to pick you up, I want you to take a moment and evaluate yourself. It's normal to be anxious and a little scared. But if you truly don't think that you can handle it—remember we talked about comfort zones?" Kit nodded. They talked about it often, "If you feel like you're in your panic zone, then it's okay to stay home. You should never push yourself into or past your panic zone."
Kit sniffled and nodded her head in agreement. She always had to take medicine when she panicked and she hated it.
"It's not just him," she continued, biting her lip, "Making me scared, I think. I don't know…I know we've moved and everything, but it's still hard being here, sometimes. Leaving the house is making me really anxious."
She and her family were still in Forks. They had moved further out of town to a new house.
"It's hard," she wiped away another tear, then her nose, "Sometimes, I want to…" she paused, gesturing, "I want to…go or…you know, leave," Rachel hummed, "But I have friends here and you know, that one thing, and I don't want to switch any of my doctors, even if it's irritating, sometimes. I like my PCP a lot," her lips twitched a little when Rachel chuckled knowingly, "And I'd miss Jax and Lex, a lot. They've been really nice and keep making me laugh. Lex wants to make my hair like hers."
"Oh, dear," Rachel laughed and Kit let out a few giggles of her own.
Laughing made Kit feel better. More at ease, more confident. She tried to take a deep breath, coughed once more and wiped away the rest of the tears from her eyes.
Rachel had changed her position to one that was more casual. She was slightly hunched over, her hands folded in her lap. Though, she still held a pen between her fingers and a giant yellow notepad resting on her crossed legs.
"So, you're able to acknowledge that you have a good support system that you don't want to lose?" Rachel clarified and Kit nodded. Support. That's what she had meant to say, "That's great, that's really great. And would you like Emmett and his family to be part of that support system?"
"Well, yes," Kit said, "I really do. I still want him in my life and I know that things will be kind of awkward, but I still love him," she paused, "Um, I can have a boyfriend, right?"
"You don't need my permission," Rachel said softly, "That's entirely up to you and your significant other. However, I don't see why you couldn't still be in your relationship. No one is perfect. You certainly weren't before you started therapy and treatment. As long as he supports your recovery, there's no reason that you're not allowed to have a relationship or be in love. You are entirely deserving of love and care and happiness."
It was hard for Kit to believe those words and it made her uncomfortable to hear them. She showed her discomfort, by glancing to the side, then back.
"Only, with that," Rachel continued, tapping her pen against her notepad, "You need to understand that you're still in the process of healing and you're still very fragile," Kit gaped at her, but Rachel continued, "There are consequences to letting an illness, whether mental or physical or both, become the sole function of the relationship. You don't want to let that direct the movement of your relationship because you're more than that."
In a small voice, Kit said, "I don't want to focus on them at all."
"Ah," Rachel held a hand up, "See? And that's not good. There are going to be times when you need to focus on them. It will do nothing, but harm both you and Emmett in the process if you pretend that they're not there," she fixed Kit with a firm look, "And you know that you can't afford that to happen, right now."
Kit exhaled softly, averting her gaze again. She was sick of hearing that and couldn't wait until she was eighteen…
"You and Emmett need to encounter your diagnoses as any other problem that would come up in a relationship," Rachel said, "Is he aware of them?"
Kit scrunched up her nose, "I think so…and my dad said he wanted to talk to Emmett when he came."
"I think that's a good idea."
"But I asked him not to," Kit finished, "I mean, I know he has to know, but there's things that'd I still like to keep private," she looked at Rachel again, "That's okay, isn't it?"
"To an extent," Rachel said slowly, "You are still entitled to your privacy, but these are all things to think about if you really want Emmett to be in your life romantically. He can't fully support you and could in fact, cause more damage, if he isn't aware of what's going on."
"Oh," Kit said dumbly. She hadn't thought of it like that, "I guess so."
"You don't need to jump right back into the relationship if you don't want to," Rachel said, "Keep in mind that communication is key. You're both individual people. Every relationship has some drama, some issues, but if you and Emmett are willing to be patient, learn, grow and accept that things might not be the same—you might have to make some changes or take it slow—then, I think you'll both be okay."
Kit felt elated by these words. She loved Emmett and she still wanted to be with them. Even before everything had happened, she had never been keen on rushing into things or moving too fast. They had always taken it slow.
"Thank you," she said sincerely. She felt a little better about the whole thing.
"I'll be looking forward to hearing how this all goes," Rachel said, "And you can always call me and leave a voicemail if something happens," she glanced at the clock, "Tell me how your moods are. How have you been doing on your anti-depressant?"
Emmett bounced his leg so fast, it was a complete blur.
Today was the day. It was Saturday. The day he got to see Kit.
It had been four months since she had come home from the hospital and began her lengthy and hard recovery journey.
Carlisle was in the driver's seat of his Mercedes and kept glancing at Emmett.
"Try and calm down, son," Carlisle sounded both worried and amused, "We'll get there soon. You know, she's much closer, now."
That was true. The Algrens had moved again. This time, they were out beyond Forks, over the bridge of the Calawah river, heading eastwards.
They were basically neighbors and Esme had helped Blake find a house in the midst of Kit's chaotic care.
"I know," Emmett confirmed, "…I know you can't tell me—HIPPA and all that—but, is she well enough—I can hug her, right?"
Carlisle sighed sadly, "Yes, Emmett, of course you can. I'd ask for permission, first. You have to be gentle."
Emmett nodded, glancing out the passenger window. At home, he had done nothing but watch the clock, waiting for it to be a reasonable hour to go to Kit's house.
Alice had whined and protested at being left behind while he and Carlisle went to go pick up Kit.
"I want to see her too," she had complained, "I love her! I don't want to wait here, it's boring."
"You'll see her very soon," Carlisle had soothed, though he understood Alice's impatience, "But it might be overwhelming for her. She might see us and decide to stay home and that's okay. We have to allow her some time to adjust and process."
After that, Alice had relented, going to sulk on the couch in Jasper's lap. The blond wouldn't admit it, but he was just as eager to see Kit. Bella was going to be there, too and everyone was eager to see her. Almost.
"Should I tell her that Rose won't be there?" Emmett asked softly.
While Emmett and Rosalie were slowly working on their damaged relationship, it had been decided by him, Carlisle and Esme—Jasper had put in his two cents as well—that it would be best for Kit if Rosalie wasn't there when Kit came over and kept her distance for awhile.
Seeing her might be too much.
"If she asks," Carlisle instructed, his eyes on the road, "Otherwise, don't bring it up."
Emmett opened his mouth to say okay, but then Carlisle announced, "We're here," and he closed it.
The house they pulled up to, was cottage style and from the front looked to be mostly made out of roof. It was a combination roof, covered with dark gray asphalt shingles and strips of brilliant white at the trim. One was a peaked dormer roof with three horizontal windows in the middle, and the other one acted as a large peaked door roof, held in place by thin, square three white beams.
The house itself was made of horizontal lap siding, the color of a cloth sail and the door was a simple light wooden two panel bottom door. At the right, there were three square-shaped glass block windows. In front of the door was a brilliant white railing, though the porch step was a wide slab of concrete, barely three inches tall.
"Are you ready?" Carlisle shut off the car and they sat in brief silence.
Emmett took a moment to compose himself, gazing at the new house. Getting out of the car, he took a deep breath, mostly out of habit.
Blake must have heard the car doors slam because he had swung open the front door before they had even reached it. The scent of lemon scented bleach hit his nose. It was so strong, it burned.
Emmett slowed his steps by a hair, using this time to look at Blake, looking him discreetly up and down. He looked better to an extent. He still had the same shaggy hair and wore a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. It was black and had some kind of white, articulate design in the middle. It looked like he had gained a little weight and there were some tired lines on his face. He still looked quite young and much more healthy, but his blue eyes behind his glasses weren't as bright. They weren't dull with sadness like they had been. No, he looked worn out.
"Kit's in the shower," he said in a way of greeting, then gestured for them to come inside, "Come in, please."
Emmett had taken two steps inside, when from seemingly out of nowhere, a white blur shot out from somewhere in the house.
"Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof!"
Emmett blinked stupidly. Barking and jumping enthusiastically at his heels, was a tiny white dog wearing a sparkly pink collar with a gold, heart-shaped tag that jingled with every movement.
"Well, hey there," Emmett knelt down, letting the little runt jump into his arms.
Once he had straightened up, the dog squirmed, barked and wagged its tail, putting its small paws on Emmett's shoulders.
"You got a dog?" Carlisle inquired, petting its back.
Blake rolled his eyes, "Indigo got a dog," he corrected, "My brother's doing. His name is Sparkles. He's a Maltese poodle mix, I think."
'Of course the kid named him Sparkles,' Emmett thought, amused, 'But Blake's brother? Damn, I didn't know that he was still around.'
He had known for awhile that Blake had an older brother. Kit had told him on a Monday, a few days before—she had told him that with the help of Google, phone books and some things she found in the attic, she was able to track down Marcus Algren to his law firm and leave a message with his assistant.
Thanks to Edward, Emmett knew that Blake had knocked Mark on his ass when he showed up, but Emmett wasn't sure what had happened after that.
"Here, I'll take him," Blake held his arms out and Emmett passed Sparkles to him.
"Okay, Sparkles, go…"
While Blake spoke to the dog, Emmett looked around the interior of the house.
Walking in the front door put Emmett and his father right in the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen. It was a grand space, the flooring was all sleek red oak hardwood.
To the left of the entry-way was the designated dining room. A simple six-piece black dining set with a light fixture hanging above it.
To the right of the open space, was the living room. Same fawn tan colored Lawson-style sofa, same coffee table, side table and television. Though the lamp atop the side table was different.
In the left corner, right across from the dining room, was the kitchen. The way the long island was positioned in the middle, kept the room from being one muddled, confusing space.
The kitchen was much smaller. Besides the island, there was a long granite counter, built into the wall. There were appliances atop it and in the middle, the counter was broken apart by the oven, then continued at angle, then went towards the right where the refrigerator was tacked onto the end. There was a white door a few feet away from the fridge.
Behind the island, were beige carpeted stairs and Emmett could hear the shower running as well as footsteps coming from upstairs. He figured that to be Everly and the much smaller footsteps belonged to Indigo.
"You're home is beautiful," Carlisle commented before Emmett could and he settled for making a sound of agreement.
"Thank you," Blake said sincerely, "Your wife was a big help," he looked around as if he didn't live there, "It's much more homey. It's called an open-concept."
He didn't say anything else about the house or the open-concept, leaving the air to become very tense.
Emmett cast his eyes down to the shoes he was removing, but not for long. When Blake cleared his throat, Emmett looked up.
"Why don't we sit down and talk?" his tone was suggestive, but his eyes told a different story, "It's been awhile."
Emmett took the bait, "Yes, it has been."
"Go, sit," Blake urged, waving a hand towards the couch, "I'll get a chair."
Emmett glanced at Carlisle who nodded at him, his expression serious. Emmett followed him to the couch and took a seat as they waited for Blake to join them.
He did, using a chair from the dining room set to sit across from them. He folded his arms across his chest.
Despite Blake shooing him off earlier, Sparkles came wandering back into and shook himself off. He looked at Blake and went to sit at his feet.
"Carlisle," Blake started acknowledging the blond first, "My daughter adores you, my wife and I respect you greatly. You saved my daughter's life and continue to do so. You've done a lot for our family…more than I can say. And I mean no disrespect when I say this to your son," his eyes switched over to Emmett "But I'm not going to pretend that I'm happy to see you."
Emmett's eyes widened, put off by the hostility. Four months ago, Blake had tearfully admitted that he was glad Kit had him. Now, Blake looked like he couldn't stand the very sight of Emmett and Emmett couldn't understand what he had done wrong.
He had done his absolute best to respect Kit's need for privacy. Was it the flowers? He had only sent them a few times and the cards had just been the automated one that stated who they were from and why they were sent. He hadn't thought of that being too big of a deal. Kit had called him once to thank him, the third time he sent them, but he wouldn't have minded if she hadn't called. Had that been it?
"Things are getting better," Blake continued wearily, "And they continue to get better…but…" he shook his head, looking Emmett in the eyes, "Son, I need you to understand that Kit is sick."
Emmett nodded slowly, feeling it was best not to speak. He was aware.
"Kit feels moderately well a majority of days," Blake spoke in a tone that implied he had said this many times before, "But…she's sick. Since being home, Kit's started a multitude of treatments. She's in all kinds of therapy. Talk, physical, occupational, speech—we were lucky, but…her brain damage is still serious, no matter how minor it might be, no matter if the statistics are on her side, no matter how hard she tries to play it off and pretend like nothing is wrong. It's still brain damage."
Emmett forced himself to take a deep breath and he nodded again.
"It's small things," Blake said, "But it's noticeable. She suffers from anomic aphasia—she blanks on the names of simple things, has trouble recalling words or numbers. Names, too. Especially when she becomes overwhelmed. Try and be patient with her. There's a little dysphagia—trouble swallowing, but that's gotten a lot better. Really, therapy has helped her a lot. If she takes it slow, sometimes, she can manage to walk by herself, but her left side is still really weak and she's a fall risk. Her therapist said she doesn't need to use her walker, anymore. At least, not all the time, and she's been working on standing by herself for longer periods of time, too. She describes it as feeling like she's always going to tip over. So, she can stand as long as she holds onto something."
"There are some memory issues," Blake cleared his throat, "But again, with help, that's starting to get better. Slowly. We're still not sure if it's physical or emotional trauma that's keeping them suppressed," he shrugged, "One memory, can bring back a thousand. As always, we're doing our best to stay positive. It's good for her."
"Of course," Emmett mumbled, just because it seemed appropriate.
Blake bobbed his head to the side, "There's some other things, too, but like I said, she's making progress every single day," there was a measure of pride in his tone, "Upstairs is hard for her some days…and that's not only due to the brain damag—
Blake cut himself off and Emmett noticed tears welling up in his eyes as he tried to compose himself, taking a deep breath.
Emmett stole a glance at Carlisle, but he was looking at Blake, his eyes soft and pained.
"Um," Blake's voice was higher in pitch, "Her lungs," his voice wavered, "We-we worry about them."
Emmett nodded again. It had taken over a week to wean Kit off the ventilator.
"It's called pulmonary fibrosis," Blake choked out, "There's…" he waved a hand, "Some complications that comes with that and you're aware that she's also in…" he had to take another moment, "In kidney failure."
"Yes," Emmett whispered.
Blake sniffed and cleared his throat again, "Um, that's been really hard on her. Really hard, but she's getting treatment for that, too. We're all working to get her on the transplant list, but—watch out for her left arm—um…" he cut himself off again. Rubbing at his eyes, he looked towards the stairs, "Look, you have to watch her. She overexerts herself often and she gets so tired—she wants to be normal again."
He fixed Emmett with a contemplative look, "It's a lot of work, Emmett. There's so much more—it's not that my wife and I don't care about you, but…" he leaned forward, "I'm worried that Kit is going to try and force herself to keep up with you and your family. That's exactly what she's going to do. She's still very sick. You need to understand that she's only been home four months. She's not reached full health."
"I understand," Emmett said firmly.
"You don't," Blake frowned at him, "There are days when she is really, really sick and gets frustrated. The medication she takes trashed her immune system. She's not going to tell you if she's not feeling well. In fact, Kit wanting to go with you is the first time she has willingly left the house in weeks save for her treatments."
Emmett wasn't too keen on Blake's tone, "What do you mean by that?"
Blake leaned back as if in challenge, "You can leave," he said, "You can leave, right now and I won't ever tell Kit you showed up here."
"Blake," Carlisle said disapprovingly, his tone borderline defensive.
Blake held up his hands, "You can't come back into her life and—Look, I know not seeing her for months wasn't your choice and thank you for respecting that, but you can't come back and then leave when it gets too hard…and it's going to get too hard. If you only want to be her friend, then that's fine, too. Maybe you guys can be phone buddies. But if you want to break up with her, then do it now. Don't stay with her because you feel like you're obligated to or when you get too far in, not wanting to break up with the sick girl."
Emmett's mouth fell open and he stared at Blake, dumbfounded. Before he could stop it, he growled defensively, making Sparkles shoot up from his position on the floor.
"I love her," he glared fiercely at Blake, "More than anything! She's alive—
"And you would think things would be easier," Blake interrupted him, "But they're not. Kit is doing her best to work and take care of her body and be more independent, but she needs constant care. She's on a lot of medication. And she was just released from Children's two weeks ago. Pneumonia…again."
"Children's?" Emmett parroted, "In Seattle?"
"Yes," Blake nodded, "It's where she goes to see her pulmonologist. It's far, but Kit's lungs need the medical care and the only pulmonologist near here is in Port Angeles. That would have been fine, but he treats by numbers, not symptoms and that didn't work for us."
Out of the corner of his eye, Emmett saw Carlisle nod firmly.
Emmett decided to push a little, "She sees a lot of doctors?"
"Yes," Blake said shortly, "A majority of her time, is spent doing medical stuff or resting. I know your family is really outdoorsy, but she's not always going to have time, or be feeling well enough to hangout or go on dates."
"And that's fine!" Emmett hadn't intended to sound so exasperated, so disrespectful, "I would never want her to push herself too hard or put her in a position where she ends up making herself sicker. I'm willing to be by her side and help in any way I can," in a quieter voice, he said, "I love her very much and I'll do anything to prove that. I gave her the promise ring. I want to be with her. I do."
Blake nodded thoughtfully and looked at Carlisle.
His father had taken over the role at Kit's primary care physician and was being so quiet, probably because he knew everything. It irritated him. Emmett was very conscious of the fact that Blake wasn't telling him the full extent of Kit's illnesses.
"Please keep an eye on her," Blake begged Carlisle, "I know you're her PCP and you know what to look for, but I feel better saying it out loud. I know she's going to try to downplay everything and pretend like nothing is wrong, but she had a rough night. She keeps getting those fevers and this morning, her kidney was really bothering her. You can tell because she rubs her lower back. Her hypoglycemia's worse. When she gets too low, she'll at least tell you that. Her vision gets blurry and her hearing becomes muffled."
"I have Glucagon if she needs it," Carlisle assured him in an even, understanding tone, "Is there anything else you'd like me to have on hand?"
"Mmm," Blake hummed, "Actually, I'd like you to have some Ativan with you. She took a tablet this morning, but she's allowed another half tab if she has a panic attack, or gets too anxious and can't calm down on her own. I'll give you one."
Blake stood up, reaching for something in his pants pocket, but suddenly, he stopped and lowered himself back in the chair.
"Oh, and…" he dropped his voice to a whisper, "I don't know if—just make sure you keep a sharp ear out if she uses the bathroom. Everly and I…" he finally pulled his hand from his pocket, showing them a small silver key, "We have special medicine cabinets. They lock. I mean, eventually, we'll have to learn to trust her, but…" he trailed off.
"Yes, of course," Carlisle smiled sadly, "That's completely understandable. Not to worry, I keep all medication with me in my office and there's no reason for Kit to go in there. In fact, we'll all probably stay in the living room. You said upstairs is hard for her."
"Right," Blake nodded, satisfied, "Excuse me, I'll be right back. Come on, Sparkles! Come on!"
The pup stretched and trotted obediently after Blake.
When Blake was out of earshot, Carlisle placed a hand on Emmett's shoulder.
"How are you doing, Emmett?"
Emmett took a moment to process everything he had been told. Some of it, wasn't new to him. He had been aware of Kit's kidney troubles and of her brain damage. She had been on dialysis while still in her coma. He had been aware of her lung damage, too and the pus that had been drained from her lungs.
"I wish Blake would trust me," Emmett admitted, "What treatment is she doing? What meds is she on?" they were rhetorical questions, but still, he said, "I know you can't tell me, but I'd like to know, so that I can help. How am I supposed to help if he doesn't tell me everything?"
"Perhaps he is leaving that for Kit to tell you," Carlisle patted his shoulder, "It's her decision how involved in her treatment and life she would like us. And if she decides to spend more time with us, it will come to a point where we will all need to know these things. There could be days when she comes over and I'm at the hospital. There could be days when she's alone with you or alone with Alice."
"This will happen in due time. Don't force it," Carlisle warned, "Give her time to adjust and open up."
"Okay," Emmett agreed, looking to the left when Blake returned.
Upstairs, he heard the shower turn off.
"Here," Blake handed Carlisle a prescription bottle with the label missing, "It's only half a tab."
"Thank you," Carlisle pocketed the container, "My family is looking forward to seeing Kit. We've missed her very much and think about her often."
Blake, having a much more relaxed demeanor, nodded as he reclaimed his seat, "Yes. She's missed your family, as well. There's been a lot going on, but I'll leave it to her to tell the rest. I've said too much all ready and she'll yell at me if she ever finds out," he laughed, an easy, but still weary sound.
"We won't push her," Carlisle promised.
Blake look relieved at that and he too, along with Carlisle and Emmett turned his head when they heard footsteps descend the stairs.
Upon seeing who it was, Emmett lit up, but Blake pressed a firm finger to his lips, frowning at who had joined them.
Still, that didn't stop Indigo's loud gasp and she bolted towards Emmett.
He chuckled as he swept Indigo up into his arms.
"Look at you!" he gasped once she had settled, "You're taller and whoa!" he made his eyes widen dramatically, "Your hair's pink!"
"My mommy let me do it and I'm only taller a couple of inches," Indigo pulled back to beam at him. Her dirty blonde hair had pink streaks throughout and she threw her arms around his neck, "I missed you!"
"I missed you, too, kiddo," he said sincerely.
Indigo looked like she was doing a lot better. To him, it appeared that Indi was back to her silly, bouncy self.
"Did you get to meet Sparkles?" Indigo asked hopefully, "Uncle Mark got him for me as an early birthday present!"
"I did get to meet him," Emmett smiled, "He's very cute."
Easily satisfied by that, Indigo twisted in his grip, "Hi, Carlisle!"
Carlisle smiled gently, "Hello, sweetheart. How are you?"
"Good!" she said, "School starts on Monday. I'm gonna go to a different one, now."
"Oh, yeah?" Emmett inquired. He knew the Algrens had sued the Quillayute Valley School District and assumed that they had won or settled. There had been an email sent out last week about some big budgets cuts. Principal Greene would still have his job, but under the watchful eye of the superintendent. Bella, Edward and Alice would be returning Monday.
"Yes," Indigo continued, "One in Port Angeles. It's called Hamilton Elementary school. I'm in fourth grade, now! We're hawks and I still get to see all my friends at soccer!"
"Cool!" Emmett grinned at her, "Are ya' nervous?"
"A little," Indigo admitted shyly, "But I think it'll be okay," she looked back at Carlisle, then back at Emmett, "Are you here to see Kit?"
Emmett couldn't stop the frown from twitching at his brow, but he smoothed it away into a cool expression.
Kit, she had said. Kit, not Kitty.
"Um, yeah," he said, "I am."
"Okay," Indigo nodded, "Well, be extra careful with her, okay? She gets really tired and she throws up a lot."
"Indigo!" Blake burst out.
The last time Emmett had seen Blake scold Indigo, she had gotten teary-eyed, but this time, she scowled, whipping her head around to frown at her father.
"She does!" she whined, "She did, when she came home, yesterday," she turned back to Emmett and he saw Blake sigh heavily, pinching his nose, "It's…" she looked at Carlisle again, "It's a complication from the dialysis," she enunciated the word, "Right?"
Carlisle's face fell and he hesitated, "I—yes, that's right, sweetheart."
"I'm right," she confirmed to Emmett with a satisfied grin, "And she's on a bunch of other medicine, too. Oh, and be really careful, she falls down, sometimes. Oh, and her left arm—
"Okay, Indigo," Blake rebuked her with a sigh, "That's enough, now. He gets it."
"You said I could help!" Indigo scrunched her nose, "I'm helping."
"Well, why don't you go help your sister find something to wear, instead?" Blake suggested, "You're getting too big to be picked up, anyway," he smiled at Emmett, "You'll spoil her."
"Being carried is much better than walking!" Indigo declared sassily," and Emmett grinned. He didn't mind picking her up, "But okay, I'll go help."
"Don't tell her that Emmett's here, yet," Blake said firmly, "I mean it."
"Okay."
Emmett set her down and patted her on her head, "It was nice seeing you, kiddo."
"You too," she said, "Am I going to see you more, now?"
"I sure hope so," Emmett said honestly.
"Go upstairs, Indi," Blake instructed, "I'm not going to tell you again."
Indigo huffed and sulked upstairs, but not before she shouted for Sparkles to follow her, who ran barking up the stairs.
"She's doing a lot better," Blake confirmed Emmett's earlier notion, "She's so happy to have Kit home."
"Yes, I'm sure she is," Carlisle's eyes were kind, "She…
'She throws up a lot,' Emmett repeated Indigo's words. Sure, Carlisle had confirmed it was a complication of dialysis, but he was ashamed that a part of him, had first thought it was due to Kit's eating disorder.
Blake hadn't mentioned how that was going. Was she eating? Had she gained weight? Was she getting treatment for that, too? Because she threw up from her dialysis, did that mean she didn't make herself throw up? Was she still hiding food?
There was a light knock that came from upstairs, sounding clear as day to Emmett's vampire hearing as he broke out of his thoughts.
"Kit Kat?" that was Everly, "Are you doing okay?"
"Mhm," it had only been a hum, but it was Kit's voice and it made Emmett waver where he stood as he listened more intently.
"Do you need me to get you anything?" Everly persisted.
"Daddy told me I could help you pick out an outfit," Indigo added eagerly.
"I'm doing okay, right, now," Kit responded from inside the bathroom, "Did you find my black socks?"
Her voice had changed. It was quiet and timid. Like she was afraid she'd be yelled at or punished if she said the wrong thing or spoke out of turn.
"Oh, they're in the dryer," Everly responded, "I threw all your clothes in the laundry, last night. I'll get them. Indi, go wait for your sister in her room and don't turn all her stuff around like you did last time."
More footsteps descended the stairs, breaking up whatever Carlisle and Blake had been discussing. Emmett hadn't been paying attention, latching onto the sound of Kit's voice. He couldn't wait to see her.
Everly appeared and Blake cursed under his breath, rushing over to her. He didn't make it. Everly had looked up and gasped before he reached her.
Emmett's mouth lifted up in a half smile, "Hey. Long time no see."
Everly's lips pressed together and it looked like she was going to cry, her eyes growing wet as she went to embrace him.
Emmett wrapped his large arms around her. She smelled of the lemon bleach that permeated the house.
"Hi, honey. I'm so glad that you're here," Everly said with such honestly, into Emmett's skin, "Kit Kat's missed you. You're good for her."
"Thank you," Emmett let his arms drop to his side when Everly released him.
Everly looked like she had lost some weight. Her blonde hair was thrown up atop her head and she had the same tired look that Blake did. Except she also looked determined, like she was constantly plotting something.
Everly said hello to Carlisle, then fixed Blake with a dark look. With her hands on her hips, she scolded him.
"I can't believe you did this when Kit asked you not to," she hissed, "She's not going to be happy.."
"She'll get over it," Blake argued, equally quiet, "She needs to understand that I'm trying to keep her healthy," he mimicked his wife's defensive stance, crossing his arms, "You know, I'd prefer her to stay here. I don't even want her going. She's not going to take care of herself. She's going to want to keep up and force herself to keep up, when her lungs—her body—
"Ugh, I'm not doing this again," Everly threw her hands up, "I need to get Kit her socks," she placed a hand on Emmett's arm, going back to a sweet tone, "Kit's going to be very happy to see you, honey."
"Me too," he agreed, "Your house is beautiful."
"Thank you," Everly smiled at him, "I think so, too. It's much more comforting, don't you think?"
Emmett nodded. It had a more welcoming feel to it and there were family pictures on the coffee and the side table, some hanging on the walls where Everly's artwork was also displayed.
Everly's smile slowly fell from her face as she glared at Blake. Playfully, she pointed a warning finger at him, "Behave yourself, Mister."
Rolling his eyes, Blake pretended to draw a halo around his head with his finger.
Emmett heard a door upstairs open. It was Kit. He could tell by the sound of her heart and her scent.
It had changed too. No longer, did the scent of white tea and chamomile permeate her blood. The soothing scents were muted, almost nonexistent, overpowered by something that made Emmett's nose wrinkle and not in a good way.
He hated himself for thinking it, but Kit's blood smelled very unappealing. Bad, if he dare say it.
He recalled a passage about kidney disease that he had read on a medical website: Your kidneys filter waste and excess fluids from your blood, which are then excreted in your urine. When chronic kidney disease reaches an advanced stage, dangerous levels of fluid, electrolytes and waste can build up in your body.
So that was it? Kit's blood was full of waste that her body couldn't get rid of on it's own.
He heard Kit's footsteps steps were slower, lagging and sounded uneven.
Everly came back from the laundry room, a pile of clothing in her hands. She said nothing, but glared at Blake as she passed, still doing so as she headed up the stairs.
"Kit, Emmett's here!" she shouted, louder than necessary. Emmett saw her throw another glare over her shoulder before she disappeared completely.
He heard no verbal response from Kit and nervously, he looked to Carlisle, searching his eyes for an answer to a question he hadn't asked.
"Ah, don't worry, son," Carlisle nodded encouragingly at him and told Blake, "He's quite nervous."
"I'm sure," Blake mumbled, looking distractedly towards the stairs.
It was silent between the three. Intensely silent as they all waited for Kit to make an appearance.
Indigo came down first, her little dog yipping happily behind her and she bounced over to stand by Blake.
"Mom, stop, I've got it!" Kit hissed impatiently.
Emmett rubbed his lips together, getting antsy.
Another thirty seconds passed. Then, he saw her.
She was holding tightly onto the stairwell with one arm, placing both feet on each step and waiting three seconds before going down the next one. She was looking down in concentration, making it so Emmett couldn't see her face.
Her hair was pulled away from her face into a simple ponytail. He had seen her hair pulled back before. He had expected to see her dressed in one of her fun skirts and pretty tops.
Instead, she was wearing black leggings, a loose gray v-neck over a light pink shirt and over that, she wore an unzipped navy blue hoodie that looked too big for her as well. On her feet, were not a six-inch pair of patterned stilettos, but a pair of pink and white lace-up sneakers.
He had never seen her dressed so casual. Still, it suited her and he was delighted to see a familiar chain around her neck. He couldn't see the charm, but he knew that she was wearing her grandmother's locket again.
When she got off the last step, her breathing was more forced and she wavered. Everly, being closest placed her hands on Kit's shoulders as Blake stepped forward to help, but Kit quickly shrugged her off.
"I'm okay," she promised in her new, quiet voice.
Finally, she looked up and Emmett felt it.
Warmth spread throughout him as he took in Kit standing there. There were dark bags under her green eyes that looked too defeated and exhausted on her young, freckled face. She was so pale, she rivaled his own skin tone. There was none of her warm ivory flesh tone, the paleness making her freckles look darker.
And she was so thin. Emmett couldn't spot any muscle mass. All her bones jutted up sharply, her clothing loose where it shouldn't have been. There was a tiny gap between her thighs. Her left arm hung uselessly by her side.
But she was alive. She was alive and she was here and she was breathing and her heart was beating. She was alive and he loved this woman with his whole soul. Sick or not, she was still beautiful, she was still Kit and he couldn't dwell on that for long because all his brain could process was that he loved her and she was here, right in front of him.
He must have been staring at her too long, because looking at the ground, Kit mumbled, "I-I don't get a hug…?" her voice trailed off to an uncertain whisper.
'She's tiny,' Emmett began to approach her, chanting, 'So tiny, be careful. An egg, a baby bird's egg. That's what she is.'
When he got close enough, slowly, he wrapped his arms around her. Her right arm came to wrap around him.
Everly, Emmett noticed, kept a hand on Kit's back, steadying her.
He held her for a long moment, feeling her heart beat against him. Her heart that had almost stopped beating under his father's hands. He felt her warm breath on his skin. She was still warm and her skin was still soft.
"Hi," he whispered, choking back a sob.
"…Hi," Kit whispered back.
"I missed you."
Emmett took a chance and allowed himself to hold Kit tighter. Just by a hair. She clung to him with feeble strength and he ran his hands over her bony shoulders and settled his arms at the middle of her back.
"I missed you, too," her voice was full of emotion and Emmett closed his eyes, "I missed you so much."
Author's Note: Hello and welcome to the sequel! It's quite lengthy, but I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter. I got a lot of positive feedback on the prologue and so many heartfelt messages. Thank you to everyone who reached out and I'm so excited to continue Kit's story. I know you have a lot of questions, but they will be answered in due time!
Little bit of a sidenote: For 'Over The Midnight Moon', I used song lyrics for the chapters and I think for this story, I'm going to go with single words just because.
So, that's it. Don't forget to review and I'll be posting outtakes on the first story, soon. Let me know if there's on you'd like me to write and I'll try my best.
- FictionChic