AN- Hey gang. So apparently FFN is having issues with GoDaddy which is having them remove stories containing CSA, which of course this story references to and shows in brief flash backs. In case they ever get around to it, I also post on AO3 under the name EmberAmongAshes and the story name is the same. I don't like AO3 as much as a poster, but I urge you to follow or bookmark or something just in case they decide to take this down here.
Update on my life- I just got engaged to my partner of almost 9 years! Not a surprise but very exciting.
Sorry for the long gap between updates, I am writing at least 100 words a day, but there's no promises for where the words are going.
Bella
When Bella arrived home, she was still riding a high. She jumped out of her truck, closing the door as quietly as she could while her limbs were powered by adrenaline, and considering the age of the car, a slam was somewhat necessary.
After the bad encounter with Mike, Bella had sat with other people, listening to their stories about each other, and just absorbed the laughter. She had never imagined a group of that many people could be so upbeat. She had always thought that someone wicked would have swayed the group towards anger, but the group seemed… happy. She was happy. And she was part of it, even as an observer, she was present.
Bella bounded up the stairs and opened the front door, which was still unlocked. The reason for it was immediately evident, as the sounds of baseball and the faint light from the TV lit the room. Bella stepped forward cautiously, peaking out at the living room. There were only a few beer cans on the coffee table, but the strong smell of beer filled the room causing Bella to freeze, a white hot panic flooding her body.
Her hands starting shaking, and she tucked them into her jacket pockets. Bella had thought that Charlie was safe, but with the overwhelming scent of beer in the room she couldn't help but think that he was about to snap. He had said she could go out. But that didn't mean anything. Phil used to do things like that all the time. He liked to change the rules on her, keep her uneasy.
Maybe Charlie was the same way. Maybe he wanted to wait for a big enough mistake so he could really lay into her. Maybe he was about to scream at her in a drunken rage and make her regret being born.
But Charlie didn't yell, he didn't slur his words, he just smiled at her, a real, warm smile. "Hiya Bells, how was the party?" Charlie sounded sober, but that smell was impossible to ignore.
"It was fine Dad" Bella faked a smile and Charlie waved her over.
"You drove home?" He reached for something in the pocket of his recliner, and Bella's breath caught before she recognized it as a breathalyzer. Officers had waved them all around during Bella's DARE classes from middle school while lecturing about the dangers of drinking and driving.
"I did" Bella stepped forward, still cautious about the smell of booze all around her. While she had smelled it at the beach, there was at least the fresh air and ocean spray as well.
Charlie stuck the breathalyzer out at Bella and she leaned in, breathing into it. The sensation was odd. She felt vulnerable in her bent over position, but Charlie's attention was entirely on the breathalyzer screen. A soft beep played and Bella stood up straight, her nose wrinkling at the smell of beer that was a bit stronger.
"Good, its a zero." Charlie smiled up at Bella, and there was something so kind in his eyes that Bella almost, almost smiled back. His expression changed, apparently noticing the way her face had screwed up in response to the beer, and he- Bella couldn't be sure, but it almost looked like he was blushing.
"Sorry Bells, your old man is a bit of a hypocrite tonight. I guess I had one too many, I spilled my last beer. I tried to clean it up, but I guess I didn't do as good of a job as I thought I did."
Bella felt a bit lightheaded. Back in Phoenix, if she had let her feelings towards Phil's beer show so clearly on her face, he'd have flown into a rage, hitting her, maybe insisting she needed another lesson, or if he didn't have that kind of energy, he'd have at least forced some of it down her throat. But here with Charlie, he apologized.
"I can take the carpet cleaner to it, dad. Tomorrow though? I'm pretty beat." The words flowed from her mindlessly, as though her brain couldn't help but push at the boundaries that were already miles wider than she was used to.
"Don't worry about it Bells, I made the mess, I can take care of it. You get to bed, I'm not too far behind you."
Bella nodded wordlessly and went upstairs quickly, still in a daze of unfamiliarity.
She closed the door behind herself and quickly changed into sleep pants and one of her father's sweatshirts. There was one more thing she wanted to do before finally resting.
Taking her laptop to her bed, she quickly typed in the website she wanted and got to work. In no time at all, Bella was the proud owner of a new email address. She knew Phil wouldn't be able to track this one. He and Renee paid for her phone, so there was a chance that he could check texts or call logs, but she knew that this email would be all hers, and everything inside of it would be too.
Bella hugged herself gently, her eyes unable to move from the empty email inbox, as though it was a lighthouse in her turbulent storm. As long as she could endure the storm, there was peace to be found, all she had to do was weather it.
Bella heard a faint noise from downstairs and hid the window with her new secret email before slamming the laptop shut. She peaked down the stairs on her way to the bathroom and saw her father on his hands and knees, the carpet cleaner beside him whirring to life, heating the sudsy water in the tank. He was going over a spot on the carpet with the handheld tool.
Bella quickly moved to the bathroom before he could see her. Her mind was reeling. Just one week ago, she couldn't imagine any of this. Not the party, not the apology, not Charlie on his hands and knees cleaning up a mess. She dazedly washed her face, removing the small amount of concealer she had dared to put on.
She wondered what the next week would bring. What daring new rebellion she would be looking back on, entirely shocked. What new revelations the week would bring.
Bella got back to her room and sat back down on her bed. The small flicker of hope in her chest swelled as she pulled the laptop closer to her.
Slowly, as though each keystroke may set off an alarm, Bella began composing an email.
...
The Sunday night after the party, Phil called.
Bella was daydreaming about a normal life that she was closer to than ever. Charlie had to take over a shift and was out. Her music was playing out loud, and she was humming along happily while doing her homework. Her normal girl act was almost convincing, even to herself.
As though some cosmic energy shift knew that she was too happy, too content, it worked against her, bringing her the shadows she clearly deserved.
Her phone began buzzing, a phone call. The only people who call her are her dad, Renee, and Phil.
Phil.
She paused her music quickly and took a breath before answering the phone.
"Hi Phil."
"Hello Isabella." Phil's voice was cool, low. The kind of calm she knew to associate with danger. Phil was in a mood. Not the kind of mood where he would simply explode, burn out quickly. No, this mood was one of playing games, toying with his prey.
Her blood ran cold. She was thankful all of her vital homework was complete, because it took longer to recover from nights like this.
She knew what he wanted. He wanted her to be a good girl. Obedient. Meek. Scared. It was hard to imagine that she wasn't still that girl. At least, not to the extent that Phil was expecting. Bella had changed, and it was a surprise to her. Even though she thought she was only pretending to be normal, the fact that Bella was so aware of the role that she needed to play… she must've changed. It hadn't been so obvious before, but now?
"Isabella. Are you alone at the house tonight?"
"Yes" Bella barely let out a whisper, the word getting caught in her throat.
"Video call me." Phil ordered before hanging up. Bella shuddered, tears beginning to prick her eyes.
Bella immediately obeyed, setting her phone down slowly and opening the program, simultaneously begging the loading screen to remain and hold off what was to come, and needing it to go faster, so she wouldn't be punished for the time it took.
The screen, apparently deciding for her, disappeared, and she called Phil. He answered almost immediately. His stubble was more overgrown than he usually kept it. He was fully relaxed in his chair, and Bella could tell he intended on being there for quite some time.
"How has your time been Bella?" Despite his disheveled appearance, and his certainly high blood alcohol level, his voice was so controlled.
"I've been alright. I've been doing well in school, I've been keeping the house clean."
"Good. and how are your little friends?" Phil eyed her while opening a beer with a hiss.
Bella's blood turned to ice. Did he know? About the party? She had made sure that she had never texted a word about it. But was he tracking her phone? How could he? There was hardly any signal outside of town.
"I-I haven't been overly socializing. Just lunch, talking about assignments, things like that." Now that was a downright lie that Bella hadn't intended on saying.
His eyes narrowed as he watched Bella squirm under his gaze. She wanted to correct herself, tell him the truth so she wouldn't be punished for lying. But the lie had already been told. The punishment would already occur. By telling the truth, she would only be condemning herself further.
So she sat in the uncomfortable silence, trying to keep her face blank. In all honesty, she was only nervous about the consequences, not guilty for the lie. She supposed this was part of what made her wicked, but she was so tired of trying to be good.
"Isabella. I think you need a punishment to remind you of your place." She nodded, feeling bile rise in her throat. But with the bile rose hope.
Did he not notice the lie? He seemed not to know about the party. He would certainly have said something, right? Or was that coming later?
"I guess Charlie isn't as worried about your well being as I am, or he would be giving you more punishments too."
What Bella didn't say, would never say, was that Charlie hadn't given her any punishments. Her father didn't know about most of her wickedness, and yet he had let her go to a party. He had just cared about her safety. What did that mean? Phil seemed to think that made Charlie a bad guy, but Bella just couldn't see that.
Then, Phil's commands began.
He had made Bella hit herself before, but he usually saved that honor for himself. He had threatened that to take it out on Renee if she refused, as though she had ever refused him, as though that were a choice. She knew that Phil would hurt Renee anyway. But Bella knew that if she didn't follow through with the gusto Phil wanted, the pain to the older woman would be worse.
Bella would have to do it. Whether she felt it was fair or not
Usually Bella just felt hopeless, or scared, or, as had become much more frequent, resigned. That all too familiar resignation began to sweep over her, like the waves took over a beach. Phil was right. Bella shouldn't have gone. It was unsafe.
A part of her did think it was fair. She was talking to boys, she went to a party, she was socializing and risking making others wicked. Angela had told her that it was worth it to live in spite of punishments. And it was worth it, but it still didn't quite add up. For once, Bella felt a tinge of anger, true anger, at Phil. It reminded her of the anger she had felt at Mike, when he had tried to pull her behind that boulder. That had surprised her too, her anger trying to fight back against what she believed she deserved.
That small sense of rebellion, of anger, stood up to that swell of helplessness. Like a solitary stone sticking out of the shallows, one fact stood firm: even if Phil was right, Angela was right too.
It had been worth it. This punishment was one she was used to, one she had been given for much smaller infractions. In fact, usually Phil did it himself, which was always worse. Doing it herself would hurt hey body and her soul, something so small and shriveled by now she couldn't be sure it existed.
That anger remained. Perhaps her one defender of the small wisp of soul Bella had left.
Pain, emotional and physical, was something she was very, very familiar with. That hurt was a price she would have to pay regardless, even away from Phil. And the satisfaction Bella had gotten, the rush that rocked through her at the party, it felt almost healing. So even as Bella began to hit herself, she couldn't make herself regret her decision to go.
With each and every blow, followed occasionally by a comment from Phil, Bella reminded herself why it was ok. Why this was worth it. Angela was right. This punishment was no worse than the one she got back before she had decided to try being bad. The punishment was going to come regardless, its something Phil wanted, no matter her behavior. She may as well enjoy herself outside of it. Especially now that she realized she might not get hurt by socializing.
The party had been fine. Only Mike had been what she had expected, and Bella had fought back, if only for a moment. Then Jake, a man, had protected her from it. No one else had seemed interested in hurting her, in getting her away from everyone else.
Sure maybe someone there had wanted to, but it hadn't happened. She had been to a party, and she had a genuinely good time. Maybe bad things were inevitable, but good things could happen too.
That's what Bella reminded herself as his punishment continued. As she performed for him, as she abused herself for him. Good things were also possible, this was not the only way for her to exist.
The mantra continued as she scrubbed her skin raw in the shower, trying to get rid of the cloying feeling of Phil that always seemed to linger despite him not laying a finger on her.
As Bella got back to her room, she needed a change, something to clear that Phil presence. She opened a window a crack and immediately felt some comfort in the cool air that seemed to freshen the room, and drive out the remaining Phil.
Bella climbed into her bed and curled up against the cool night air. She tried to continue her mantra, but sobbing broke through, as she thought about the bad that seemed to be much more prominent than the good.
...
There was a thin coating of frost on her windows when Bella was finally able to peel her eyes open. She groaned and covered her head with her pillow, both in reaction to the obvious cold, as well as the pain the light seemed to bring her.
She had struggled to sleep last night, and the moment she pulled her sheets back, the warm cocoon she had managed to build herself in the night would be gone, and the cold reality would hit her, literally and figuratively.
But her alarm was still blaring, and a tardy- or god forbid an absence- on her record would not be allowed. As she sat up, Bella became aware of a pounding in her head, the kind that she usually got after crying very hard. She gently pressed the button on the alarm that was far too loud, and brought herself slowly to her feet.
She was freezing, and despite her headache, it seemed the first thing that needed to be addressed. Bella moved quickly and carefully to her dresser, grabbing one of Charlie's sweatshirts and throwing it on over the shirt she had been sleeping in. She couldn't bear the idea of taking a layer off in this cold, so she would just have to wear both today.
The sweatshirt was old, something she'd seen Charlie wear dozens of times. It was dark green at one point, but had lightened over years of use and washing. The front had an image of a doe, a simple outline of the mountains behind it. There was a comfort that came with donning it, and Bella wrapped her arms around herself briefly.
Bella continued to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. She had been thinking about it since she had first found it, but she was finally brave enough to do it.
From the cabinet she took the bottle of Tylenol. It was a small luxury that she never got at Phil's. Sure the pills were there, but they were primarily there for when Phil woke up hungover. On the rare occasion where Phil felt bad about hurting one of them, he might dole some out. Unfortunately, if Renee or Bella felt the need to take one themselves, Phil always seemed to find out, and "really give them something to hurt about ''. But with Charlie, she knew it wasn't the case. On top of all of her new revelations about his character, he just didn't seem to be able to keep track of anything.
Bella had discovered that there were half-full bottles of all kinds of over-the-counter medication. Some expired, some brand new, some off brand, some name. Some were in the bathroom cabinet, some were in a cupboard in the kitchen, and there was even a bottle next to the couch that Charlie reached for some days after work. Everything at Charlie's felt that way; comfortable, abundant, and not under constant scrutiny. And it was starting to look like it would stay that way.
Bella took two and let her eyes close for a moment, willing the pills to dissolve and enter her bloodstream faster, her head pounding in protest that she hadn't remained in bed all day.
Examining herself in the mirror, she cringed. She pulled up the sweatshirt and cringed again. After Phil's punishment from the night before, small bruises were beginning to develop, primarily on her hip and ribs, where the bone acted as a backboard for her own fists, bursting blood vessels.
She hadn't been this bruised since she came to town. Even the last time Phil had made her punish herself, he got bored by the violence quickly, and had moved on to other punishments he could have her inflict on herself.
She didn't know which was worse. The marks that would hurt her, physically, much longer than the initial pain, or the invisible scars from actions that made her sick and made Phil… satisfied.
Bella yanked her sweatshirt down, as though blocking the evidence would also block the thoughts that she seemed unable to shake. The bulk of her sleeping shirt seemed to catch on the fabric of the sweatshirt, and she wanted to rip it off in frustration, but she was too cold, and she was running behind. As she changed into jeans, Bella thought absently about how she would be bothered by the shirt all day, but hopefully it would replace other thoughts.
The ice on the front step nearly took her out, but she steadied herself on the railing, miraculously fast enough for once. Charlie had salted the stairs and driveway, but apparently not long enough ago to really help her now.
With her hands clasped on the railing, she carefully made her way down the stairs, but the walk to the truck was slightly more treacherous. Bella imagined any sudden sound or even a breeze would knock her off her balance.
If Phil saw you this vulnerable, he would be licking his lips to prove to you just how weak you are.
The drive to school was easier, though she still drove at a near crawl. Luckily, she didn't hit a patch of ice, so her lack of experience driving in winter didn't need to be tested nearly as much as she expected.
It seemed odd that she had only lived in places of extreme temperatures. Bella had never liked the cold, the way it numbed her fingers, the way it would feel manageable until the wind came to rip away the slight warmth she had accumulated. Now that she was driving, she really didn't like how it always came with treacherous road conditions.
But as much as she disliked the cold, she had absolutely come to despise the suffocating heat. Back in Phoenix, there were days where it seemed like their air conditioner would rattle and fall apart, and it still couldn't fight off the heat. Bella would be in as few clothes as was safe, laying against the too warm tile floors, knowing that there was nothing that could be done. Even the fan would only move the warm air in a way that could actually make the heat worse.
At least in the cold Bella could add more layers. In a house, the warmth could be accumulated, even one as bedraggled as Jake and Billy's. There were many times as a kid, over winter break, where she got caught in a storm at Jake's, and she would have to stay there until Charlie could come and get her. Billy would start a fire, and they would make hot chocolate, and before Bella knew it, the house was toasty, and the cold would only have to be braved when it was time to go home.
The cold in Forks also meant one thing; snow. She had a love hate relationship with snow. On the one hand it felt magical to watch the snow fall, the world turning white and sparkly around her. It almost made the world seem quieter, and seeing the fallen snow untouched brought a sense of solitude that had become such a comfort.
Pulling into the parking lot, her optimism evaporated. It was one thing to have been so vulnerable and slow at home, but now she would be surrounded by people. Hopefully many would be doing the same awkward waddle, but if they were more used to it, Bella would be so obviously weak. A target even. She decided to park on the far side of the parking lot, instead of trying to get as close to the doors as possible. The grass on the side of the parking lot would account for most of the walk in, so she would be vulnerable for as short a time as possible, and maybe the light she was parking by would be close enough she could reach out and use it to balance.
When Bella parked, she put her backpack on in the truck, to avoid the shift in balance while on ice. She got out carefully, finding a luckily bumpy bit of ice beneath her.
She closed the door of her truck successfully, and was deciding between an awkward sideways waddle that would potentially draw attention, but let her keep two hands on the car, or keep one hand on the car while waddling normally
It was during this overly involved deliberation that many things happened almost simultaneously. First, she heard Edward not too far from her, calling her name. As she turned to him, she heard a short honk, then a slight screech of tires.
In a blur she could barely comprehend, Bella saw Edward lunging for her as a dark van careened in their direction. There wasn't time to flinch back, there wasn't time beg him not to. He made contact, his hands going to her hips, and the force of his body sent them both flying backward onto the grass. Bella felt the wind get knocked out of her right before her head hit the ground, hard.
There was ringing in her ears for a moment and she gasped for breath. Bella felt a weight on her and looked down quickly. She was panicking, and a weight on her usually only meant one thing. She wanted to fight, to push him off, but instead of a cruel face looking back at her, she saw the bronze head of Edward, Edward however wasn't looking at her, his eyes instead focused on the area of her skin that had become exposed in the tackle, his hand having pushed her shirt up. There, peppering her abdomen, were the bruises Phil had forced Bella to give herself.
As though he felt her looking, Edward's eyes shot to hers. He moved his hands from her exposed skin and lifted his weight off of her, but stayed looming over her. "Bella, I'm so sorry, are you alright?" Bella was still struggling to catch her breath, and Edward moved up her body, his eyes pinging around, examining her.
Finally, the rest of the world came into focus, and from under Edward's arm, she saw a van had crashed into her truck, the front end if it stopped by the streetlight. It wasn't for certain, but if Bella had stayed where she was, that van may have crushed her.
Edward had maybe just saved her life. He had also just seen proof of her punishment, proof about what kind of a girl she was.
She pushed helplessly against his shoulders, beginning to panic at the familiar weight on her, and Edward took her hint, quickly pulling her shirt back down and rolling off of her. She thought he had left, but he stayed on his hands and knees next to her.
Bella's mind was oddly silent. There was no way for her to make sense of anything that was happening, much less to try to figure out what it meant for her. A crowd of people closed in on them and she felt her panic rising.
Everyone was saying their names, but it quickly turned to just hers as Edward continued inspecting her. There was chattering, shouts, and just chaos. She found her lungs finally gasping in a big breath.
"Bella, Bella, listen to me. Don't move. You could have hurt your neck. You need to stay still until the paramedics get here." Edwards commanding tone cut through all the chaos around her, and she found herself searching for something to say. She started to shake her head but Edward quickly put his hands on either side of her head and stopped her.
"Please just stay still."
Bella immediately obeyed his request and stayed still, his hands holding her head anyway. In seemingly no time at all, the crowd of students was parted by some EMTs, who shooed them away.
Edward started explaining what happened, and they jumped into action, one called the station and found out that Charlie had already been told, and he wanted her at the hospital. The other asked Bella all kind of questions, checking her neck, her pupils, even asking her to lift her shoulders.
When she passed their checks. They got her into the ambulance, and the last thing she saw was the crowd of students, all eyes on her.
She was utterly humiliated. It wasn't bad enough she had been tackled, now she there were even more eyes on her, and everyone was acting like she was near death.
When Bella got to the hospital, Bella was trying not to hyperventilate. Not again, not again, not again, not again.
She tried to calm herself, reason with herself. Phil wasn't there, he was over a thousand miles away. Maybe she could get out of this without him even knowing.
Besides, Edward only told them about a head injury, they don't need to check anything else, right?
Edward
Edward was sitting in the waiting room, his body constantly finding some way to move, taping the arm rests, bouncing his leg, or running his hand through his hair.
When Edward saw the van skidding towards Bella, his mind went absolutely blank. Without a consideration, he threw himself at her, just needing her as far from the looming threat as he could get her, at the very least needing his body between her and the threat. It wasn't until he heard the thud of their combined weight hit the earth, and the sickening sounds of Bella absorbing the impact, that he realized how rough he had just treated her.
It was when he pulled back, ready to check on her, wanting to fix what he had just done that he saw it; the sight of her hip bone protruding as her shirt rose up, her stomach speckled with bruises.
It made his mind race, he was trying to make sense of not only what he had just seen, but everything. Everything that had seemed wrong.
There was something wrong with Bella. Something was seriously wrong. She was too light in his hands, and she pushed him off of her like his skin burned her. He had thought her horrified expression was due to understanding what had almost happened, he didn't know anymore.
Edward had tried to go to the back and find his dad, but the receptionist didn't let him, saying that he could only go back there if he had an injury. Edward had briefly considered bashing his head with a rock, but figured that would get him sent to a different kind of hospital.
So he sat. Or paced. Or did some kind of combination of twitching that really couldn't be considered sitting right? Because 'sitting' had some kind of implication of stillness, and the one thing Edward definitely, definitely was not was still.
After what felt like an hour of not staying still, another woman took the first receptionist's place, and Edward recognized her. Thank God. He walked to her and she immediately recognized him too. She waved Edward back to see his dad, not asking any questions. All of the Cullens were known at the hospital, and he was thankful that they had never abused the trust at the small hospital.
Edward saw his father picking up what he assumed was Bella's chart at the nurse's station. "Dad, wait."
Carlisle looked up at him, his face twisting in confusion. "Edward, I don't have time there was an accident at your school-"
"I know, I was involved." His expression changed to one of worry, and looked Edward up and down with concern.
"They didn't say-"
"It's because I'm fine, I just need to tell you something before you talk to Bella."
He looked for a second like he was thinking it over, "Alright, but make it quick."
The doctor pulled his son into an empty room and Edward told him what had happened. He couldn't meet his father's eyes when he mentioned how hard he had tackled Bella.
"But son, why did you have to tell me before I talked to her?" Carlisle prompted, and he had to steady himself.
"Dad, I'm worried about her. I know HIPAA, so I know you won't be able to tell me if you find anything out, but- I just need someone to look into it." Edward took another moment, knowing once the words were out, things would be different. He knew whatever it was, would change things.
"I think someone has been hurting Bella. I don't know if its her dad or if she has a boyfriend or something but… when I tackled her, her shirt rode up and I saw bruises on her, too many of them, they looked recent. That and… she has seemed pretty afraid of guys and touching. I might be paranoid but… I just want someone to make sure that she's ok." Edward ended his plea, his voice merely a rasp.
Edward's face must've betrayed his desperation because his father's face softened. "If I find anything, I'll ensure the proper channels are notified."
Carlisle gripped his clipboard and left Edward alone, his worry still haunting him. Edward walked back to the waiting room, and a few minutes after he sat back down, Chief Swan barged through the waiting room doors, barking at the receptionist to get the room number.
The young woman quickly found the number and told the Chief, who took off. As a cop he didn't need directions.
Edward had always thought of Charlie as a kind man, but with the new knowledge he had, Charlie didn't seem so nice anymore.