Chapter Music: I Said by Michelle Featherstone
A/N: Thanks so much to miztrezboo for holding my hand on this one and to annanabanana who got this beta'd even though she was juggling RL.
N.B. This should be read after Chapter 11: Release of Reinvention of Hope.
LINK TO CHAPTER UNDER THE COMMENTS BAR
:: Edward ::
As Charlie pulled the Bella-Marie up to the dock, I jumped down onto the platform and tied her off. As far as fishing was concerned it had been a fairly uneventful morning, but I knew that Charlie enjoyed time on the lake, just as much as he did reeling in the big fish.
"Do you see that?" Charlie asked as I knotted my shoe lace.
"What am I looking at?" I glanced up at him and saw he was pointing out toward the highway. Thick black smoke twisted and spiraled up into the bright blue sky, marring the perfect noon. "What the…?" I took off at a run down the dock as Charlie followed, his leg hindering his movement. "Chief, you call the station," I called over my shoulder. "I'll see if I can help."
As I rounded the end of the driveway, my feet faltered at the sight halfway down the road. I hesitated for a moment and looked back at the house. Sure enough, Bella's Audi was no longer parked where it had been.
A loud shriek filled the air and my head snapped back toward Bella. Her car was surrounded in flames. Her hands were fisted into her hair and she was stumbling across the road. I broke into a sprint, closing the distance between us, calling out to her as I got nearer and nearer.
I keep my eyes trained on her small frame, as her hands fumbled in front of her chest, flicking one tiny flame after another toward the once-high-end sports car. What had happened? Charlie's gas can at her feet told me it hadn't been an accident. What was she thinking? She could have been hurt—or worse.
I called to her again, and just as her knees buckled, I reached her side, wrapping both of my arms securely around her shaking body. My uneven breaths fanned over her skin and she shuddered before relaxing completely, all of her tension dissolving.
The car was ruined. I could see it better now. The paint work was scratched and dented, the windows were broken, and where the leather upholstery wasn't scorched and burned, it was torn right through. To some, the sight of the mutilated car might have been heartbreaking, and if Bella weren't clearly so distressed and broken, cradled in my arms, I might have thought so too. Her needs and feelings would always outweigh anything so trivial as material damage.
I took a step back, pulling Bella with me, trying to move us a safe distance from the burning shell only a few feet away. She whimpered softly and her tears continued as I spoke. "Shhh, Bella, it's okay. I just need to move you; we need to stand back." I kept my voice soft as I whispered into her ear, not wanting to startle her. Bella moved her hand across her cheek, wiping at her tears and leaving a trail of blood in their wake. "Hold on, don't…not with that hand. Christ, baby, what have you done to yourself?" I murmured. She was a mess.
My chest tightened as I feared what had triggered her outburst. She had been doing so much better over the last couple of weeks. What could have changed so badly that she would have taken such a drastic step backward?
She said nothing, and as I turned her into my chest, I heard her muffle a sob. I cast my eyes over her body once, assessing her for any serious injuries. Bella buried her face into my sternum, her nose and chin digging into the bone, but I ignored the discomfort and placed my hand onto the back of her head. Feeling glass stuck in her hair, I carefully moved my hand to rub soothing circles on her back instead, but her crying continued. I heard footsteps crunching against the uneven ground, and turned my head to see Charlie approaching us both, one hand in his hair, the other carrying a fire extinguisher.
"What happened?"
I shrugged, my eyes wide—darting between him, the wreck, and Bella—not knowing how to answer his question.
"Is she okay?"
I nodded my head, continuing to rub Bella's back.
"Okay then. Take her back up to the house, son. I'll wait here for the fire department."
I nodded my agreement and tried to shuffle Bella in the direction of home. She remained immobile, tucked into my side.
"It was never me," she murmured. "There was someone else."
"What do you mean, Bella?" I dipped my head, my lips barely grazing the skin over her temple. Her breath deepened slightly, and her grip tightened on my waist.
"I was never enough." Bella's tears slowed and she took another shaky breath. Her cheeks were red and a little shiny, her lips were chapped and raw, and her eyes were swollen and bloodshot. I wondered just how long she had been standing out here, inhaling the fumes and standing by the heat of the flames. Lifting Bella gently from the ground, I carried her down the road.
"Bella?" I whispered as her eyes closed. "What happened?" She didn't reply, and I didn't know if it was because she was too withdrawn to answer me or if it was because she was asleep. "You're exhausted, aren't you? Oh, Bella," I murmured, closing my eyes for a moment, and lifting my head to the sky, feeling helpless. She hummed so quietly that I only felt the slightest tremor of her chest. Her breathing was deep and steady, but what she had said before had me curious.
"Who else, Bella?" I tightened my hold around her, in case she panicked or got upset again. I wanted her to know she was safe with me; I would never drop or hurt her. She hummed again, and this time I felt it through my entire body. "It doesn't matter, baby. You can tell me later."
Charlie had left the front door open in his rush to get back out to the road, so I took Bella straight up to the bathroom. I needed to see what she had done to her hand and get the glass out of her hair. I lowered her gently onto the counter and filled the basin with warm water. A narrow shard of glass was embedded in Bella's palm and I carefully removed it before wiping away the dried blood from her skin. She watched as the water grew pink from the washcloth, while I reached for her hairbrush.
Bella's eyes closed and she let out a soft stuttered sigh as I pulled the brush gently through her hair, making sure that no glass remained. On the surface, Bella looked almost serene. It was only her tear stained cheeks, and the scene I'd witnessed earlier, that gave away the fact that she was falling apart inside. I emptied the basin and dampened a clean washcloth to wipe her face. Her eyes opened at the contact and she stared into mine, looking desperate and lost.
Seeing her like that was killing me, almost as if my body recognized hers was in pain and it needed me to feel it too.
In an effort to distract myself, I began wrapping her hand in gauze. She wouldn't need it for long—a day or two maybe. The cuts were superficial at best; it was more for me than her. I faltered for a moment as her fingers brushed my cheek.
"So sad," Bella sighed. I forced my eyes to meet hers and tried to smile, but the sorrow in her eyes was crippling me. I don't know when she'd stopped being Charlie's daughter and started just being Bella, but watching her fall apart in front of me was making it harder for me to breathe.
"My friend is hurtin'. So yeah, I'm sad." It was the truth, but somehow seemed severely understated.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, dropping her head and avoiding my eyes.
"Don't be sorry, Bella, it's not your fault. Is it?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light, but trying to get some answers at the same time.
"He didn't want me," she croaked.
"He's a fool," I replied, resisting the urge to pull her to me, to try and ease her suffering.
"I wasn't enough." Her voice broke at the end of her sentence and this time I was weak. I lifted her head and watched her eyes tear again; I wiped them quickly with the washcloth.
"You are enough, Bella." Her eyes searched mine with each word I spoke, and I hoped she saw the truth behind what I said. Dropping the cloth onto the counter, I lifted Bella back into my arms and walked down the hallway to her room. As I set her down on the floor, her eyes remained fixed through the window on the scene in the distance. Fire trucks and thick smoke were all that was left of the blaze she had started a short while ago.
"You need to change, Bella. Your clothes…you can't lie down in these." I ran my finger around the hem of her t-shirt, remembering that there'd been a time when I'd thought what Bella slept in was none of my business. Walking to her dresser, I lifted out the first thing my hands came to—cotton shorts and a vest. I wondered briefly if she'd manage by herself before deciding to offer, "Do you need any help?"
I watched as Bella tried to unfasten her jeans, her fingers slipping off the button. As she nodded her head, her shoulders trembled and her chest heaved. Dropping to my knees in front of her and leaving her clothes to one side, I lifted her hands and placed them on my shoulders for support. I felt her fingertips press against the fabric of my shirt, before she fisted it in her hands. Trying to concentrate, I untied her shoes, slipping off first the right, and then the left.
With a shaky breath of my own, I straightened my back and hooked my fingers into Bella's waistband, popping the button open with ease. My eyes never left her stomach, and as I rid her of the stiff denim, I found myself again watching the same sliver of skin I'd seen on the boat. Lost in her for only seconds, I quickly lifted each of her legs into her shorts, but I was caught off guard when I felt Bella's fingers running through my hair. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt anyone do that, much less a woman, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to enjoy the sensation.
The softest sigh escaped Bella's lips and reminded me that I was here for her, not for me. She was hurting; something had threatened to rip her in two and she was fighting to hold it together. I pulled the shorts up her thighs, and my thumb grazed the skin on the inside of her hip as they sat low on her waist.
"You okay?" I asked, checking I hadn't overstepped any boundaries as I got to my feet. Looking up at me, she shook her head. The movement was slight, as if she had exhausted all of her energy. "Do you need me to stop?" I squeezed her shoulder lightly, showing that whatever she wanted was okay.
"Please don't."
That was all I needed to hear. I let my fingers brush over her skin, trailing them down her arm as I stepped around her. Bella trusted me, and I wasn't about to do anything to betray that. I may have been her only choice for help, but that didn't mean that I had to make undressing her uncomfortable.
"Lift your arms for me, Bella." She followed my request, and I pulled the t-shirt over her head, dropping it to the floor and lifting her vest. Her hair swung against her exposed back, stirring the air with the faintest scent of vanilla, causing my head to spin. I focused on the daisy print of Bella's bra as it disappeared under her hair and along the middle of her back. From my position behind her, Bella's face was obscured by her hair, and it was only when she lifted her head toward the ceiling, that I saw the tears in her eyes again.
I leaned forward, desperate to offer some form of comfort, but conscious of the fact that she was almost naked; not just emotionally, but now physically exposed, too. She blinked fiercely, almost unwilling to share her grief.
"It's okay, Bella. Just let go." She stiffened and pulled a ragged breath in through her teeth. "If you need to fall, I'll catch you." I reminded her of the promise I had made on the porch downstairs, and as I pulled her vest down over her head, Bella held her breath. She offered no acknowledgement, no sign that I was getting through to her. If she was going to fall, she was determined to do it alone. All I could do was be there for her now, and let her know that if she needed me I wouldn't be far away.
I steered her to the bed and held back the duvet as she stumbled onto the mattress. "I can stay, if you'd like," I offered, watching in silent agony as her lip trembled. I wasn't sure I could leave if she asked me to, but as she rolled onto her side, turning her back to me, I knew what was coming.
"No, thank you." Bella's voice was tight and rough, raw from the time she had spent crying. Her body quivered under the sheets, and I could do nothing but leave her as she'd asked. Each step I took toward the door, made the ache in my chest seem deeper, and I hesitated in the doorway, not sure if I could pass over the threshold.
"I'll be downstairs if you need…" my voice trailed off as something tucked against the wall caught my eye. Bending to pick it up, I saw it was one half of a photograph. Jacob Black's smiling face stared back up at me, and it was clear from the slender arms wrapped around his neck and the fraction of brown hair at the torn edge that Bella had been in the missing half. Anger coursed through me, quickly distinguished by the realization that this was what had upset Bella.
I sighed, stepping out of Bella's room and closing the door behind me—giving her the space she wanted. But I couldn't leave. As I slid down the door and onto the floor, the tortured sound of Bella's cries were barely muffled behind me. I listened, with my head in my hands and my heart twisting in my chest. I listened as Bella fell, swearing to myself that it would be the only time I wouldn't be there to catch her.
A/N: As always, thank you for reading.
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