Cracked! Chapter 19: In My Eyes, You're Everything
Blah blah blah, disclaimer, Stephenie Meyer, seriously, she knows by now that I'm not making any money from this.
The current chapter can also be found on FFn here.
Previously: Bella kicked some ass. How often does THAT happen in this franchise?
In My Eyes, You’re Everything
“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Edward asked as he pulled up to Bella’s house.
Thinking for a few moments, Bella finally said, “I’ll be able to keep Charlie fooled, I think. He won’t suspect anything as long as I keep my gloves on.”
“Don’t you want to tell him what happened?” It didn’t make sense to Edward that after being assaulted Bella wouldn’t seek comfort or security from her father, or at the very least, a police report.
“He’s already worried about me,” Bella said.
“With good reason,” Edward reminded her.
“What’s telling him going to accomplish except to get him all worked up?” she shrugged. “He can’t even do anything about it, really, because I can only remember one face, and all four of those guys got away.”
Not for long. “Would you like me to walk you to your door?”
The short walkway from the street to the porch had never looked so long, dark, and threatening. But Bella still shook her head. “I’m good.”
So brave. “Here’s my number if you need anything.” Edward handed her a slip of paper. “It doesn’t matter what time it is.”
“Thanks.” Wincing slightly as her gloves compressed her swollen knuckles, Bella tucked the paper scrap into her purse.
“Remember to ice your hands,” Edward advised, even though he was sure Bella knew that already.
“I will,” she said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She almost leaned over to kiss Edward goodnight before she stopped herself, realizing that she didn’t know if he was quite there yet. Edward caught the movement and the sudden stop, of course. What surprised him was that he might have let her go through with it. He wanted to let her-it seemed so natural. And that was part of the danger he’d almost allowed himself to forget so quickly.
“Good night, Bella,” he whispered, letting her name be his kiss.
“Good night, Edward,” she murmured in kind.
Charlie glanced up from his recliner when Bella came inside. “How was it?”
“Oh, fine,” Bella answered, sounding tired. “Jess found a cute dress, and Angela bought the most beautiful earrings.”
“That’s nice.” Charlie did exactly what Bella had hoped he would: back off the topic of what Bella did all night when it looked like the conversation might get girly. “Are you okay? You look a little worn out.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Bella lied. Realizing Charlie would never believe that, she added, “I fell again. Sidewalk.”
“Bella,” Charlie sighed. “Do you need the clinic?”
“No, no. It’s just some bruising. I’m getting a headache, though.”
“Did you hit your head?” Charlie sat up quickly, alarmed.
“Not that kind of headache,” Bella reassured him, touched by his concern. “If Jess calls, can you tell her I went to bed early?” At Charlie’s nod, she went to the kitchen for an ice pack and headed upstairs.
Little did she know, Jessica had already called.
Chief Swan wasn’t stupid. He knew perfectly well Jessica wouldn’t have called on Bella’s behalf asking to stay out ‘a little later’ if Bella was actually with Jessica. (Although he had to admire Jessica’s attempt at providing an alibi.)
Charlie’s problem at the moment was what to do with his knowledge. The way he saw it, he could either confront Bella or keep it under his hat for a while and try to find out more information on his own. After the argument he’d had with his ex-wife over the weekend, he doubted very much that Renee would agree to share whatever it was that Bella told her, if Bella had said anything at all. That left him with either asking other people what they’d noticed (a risky option, as Bella was more likely to hear Charlie was asking questions than he was to get answers), or spying on her himself.
Or, his conscience nagged at him, I could trust her. She’s nearly a grown woman. She’s been doing just fine without my butting in for the last seventeen years. At least I know she doesn’t have a thing for my K-9 officer. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t. Nobody else on the squad has a death wish. Right?
It took Charlie a long time to fall asleep.
Bella, meanwhile, couldn’t sleep at all.
She’d tried crying in the shower, but the tears wouldn’t come. She tossed and turned in her bed, rocked back and forth in her rocking chair, and sat on the floor and thumped her head on the side of her mattress. She tried reading books, surfing the internet, music, and meditation. Mostly, all she could see was the face of her attacker. All she could hear was his terrible laugh. And all she could do was sit and relive it over and over again.
Around one in the morning, when she was sure Charlie was snoring his loudest, she snatched up the cordless phone from her nightstand and made a call.
xXxXx
From the moment Edward dropped Bella off at home, he knew exactly what he wanted to do.
However, he’d made a commitment to not murder people anymore, no matter how badly they deserved it. Instead, he went to his father and asked for help. Fortunately Carlisle was all too willing to provide assistance. And drugs. Really strong drugs. (Now that he thought about it, Edward wondered how Carlisle got away with keeping that much diazepam on his person. Didn’t the hospital pharmacist get suspicious?)
“Not that I’m complaining,” Carlisle said casually as the pair ran to Port Angeles, “but I find it interesting that you’ve become the Neighborhood Watch type all of a sudden.”
“Is it wrong that I don’t want that animal to hurt anyone else?” Edward asked.
“Of course not,” Carlisle said kindly. “I’m just a little surprised that you’ve chosen to get involved at all. You don’t normally meddle in this kind of thing.”
“I used to,” Edward reminded his father.
“That was different.”
“Yes. That was using my sense of justice as justification to drink from humans. I’m not taking any part of this man into me. I don’t think I could stomach it.”
“What I mean is, your position has always been to either feed on these kinds of criminals or to ignore them altogether,” Carlisle clarified. “You’ve never felt the need to involve the authorities.” Opposite extremes versus a middle way.
“That’s not true,” Edward protested. “But since we have a family policy of keeping out of anything related to the justice system, I have to pretend I don’t know anything and go about my day.”
“You disagree with the rules we’ve made, then?” Carlisle ventured. Silly question. Of course he does. He’s never made a remark like that before, though.
Edward shot a glare at nothing in particular. “Do you have any idea what it’s like, hearing the thoughts of all these people as they’re being victimized? It’s demoralizing. I used to save people. Now I can’t even call 911 unless it’s from a payphone and I don’t give my name.”
Why didn’t I realize how important this is to him? Carlisle thought about what the years had been like for his son, and how strenuously he insisted human thoughts were inconsequential-clearly he’d been trying to convince himself of that just to get through the decades. The permanently surly attitude made a lot more sense now. How could anyone aspire to retain a moral code or sense of humanity in such a situation, let alone a pleasant demeanor? “How long have you felt this way?”
“Since Prohibition, when I came back to you and Esme.”
So long! “Why did you not come to me before?”
“Because it wouldn’t have changed anything,” Edward explained. “There’s a logical case for maintaining silence. I don’t want police knocking on our door asking for witness statements any more than you do. I have a duty to my family, and I’ve put that first because that’s what we do. But we have all these chances to make the world better for the people around us, and we let those opportunities pass us by.”
“I think I make a positive impact on humanity,” Carlisle commented, trying not to sound hurt.
“Yes, you do,” Edward agreed. “But it’s just you. I want to make a difference, too.”
“Your sisters donate to charity.”
“I’d like to think I can do better than just writing a check.”
“You can always go back to medical school,” Carlisle suggested.
“By the time I’m done with undergrad, med school, and residency, I’ll look too young for my public age.” Edward shook his head. “I have to work with what I’ve got, Carlisle. I’d like my contribution to prevent harm. Frankly, I’m tired of justifying my inaction by telling myself it’s not my place to interfere with human history.”
“Son, I want to support you any way I can,” Carlisle said quickly, “but you know we can’t afford publicity.”
“The Volturi do it every few centuries,” Edward countered calmly. “They change their names and write themselves into the history books as saviors of man. But can you imagine what the world would have been like if we’d prevented the Kennedy assassination? Or the Jonestown Massacre in Guyana?”
Carlisle chose not to comment on all the times Alice made dire predictions for major events in the world around them, especially in the last fifteen years. Occasionally one or two of the family members would say ‘We really should do something about that,’ but the most anyone ever did, aside from restraining Edward until his urge to feed on the latest homicidal maniac had passed, was to decide it was a good time to move to Canada again. The problem with the Cullens was that the majority of them clung to humanity in theory while looking down their noses at it in practice. They thought of the human condition the way most urban Americans think of wildlife and nature: ‘it’s quite awful how bad things are getting for them, and we don’t mind helping out financially or recycling or whatever, but beyond that it’s not really our problem.’ If that sounds crass, that’s because it is.
“I’m not trying to become Batman here,” Edward sighed. “I’m just sick of sitting on my hands and doing nothing.”
“Personally,” Carlisle noted, “I’m glad you want to make a contribution at all.” When Edward didn’t respond, Carlisle thought, She’s good for you. So many changes already.
Edward smiled grimly. “Time to change something right now.” Indicating a pub not far from where the two vampires had come to a stop, he said, “In there. He thought of coming here in case he needed an alibi.”
“All four of them?”
Edward listened intently. “Just the ring leader.”
“Are you going to round up his companions?”
The boy shook his head. “No, the others didn’t touch her.”
“Very well, then. Which one is he?”
“Last bar stool on the far end, long dirty hair, bruises all over his face.”
Carlisle lifted an eyebrow. “Bruises?” I thought you said you didn’t harm him.
“I didn’t,” Edward murmured, thinking of her now. “Bella is many things, but she’s not meek.”
Observing the worry lines on his son’s forehead, Carlisle ordered, “Go. I’ll take care of this for you. Watch over her.”
“I thought you disapproved of that,” Edward said.
“Stand watch outside,” his father advised. “I don’t think she’d mind this once.”
So it was that when Bella made her late-night phone call to Edward, he was already in the trees nearby her home, listening to the night creatures chirping below him.
“Edward?”
“Right here, Bella.”
“I can’t sleep.”
That makes two of us. Fortunately Edward was sensitive enough not to start cracking jokes. For once. “Want some company?”
“Yes, please,” Bella said breathily. “Front porch?”
“I’m already there.” Hearing Bella’s breath catch, he added, “I was in the neighborhood.”
Bella appeared at her door a few minutes later, bundled up in thick socks, a bath robe, and her grandmother’s ugly quilt.
“Are you okay?”
Bella nodded yes…then shook her head no. With clumsy, tired movements, she sat herself down on the edge of porch, feet dangling, letting the wind blow across her face. Edward hesitated, then sat beside her. It helped that he’d just hunted over the weekend, but still, he left a few inches between them. If nothing else, Bella might need the space.
So he was more than a little surprised when Bella slowly leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. His every nerve ending lit up, his mind recording the sensation of her warm cheek burning through his shirt. His body was cast into confusion as he tried to patiently wait out her noiseless tears while desperately fighting the competing instincts to do…something. Hold her. Kiss her head. Press his mouth to her carotid artery. Tell her he loved her more than anything.
“You know why I love the desert?” she finally said, lifting her weary head and wiping her face.
“Tell me.”
“The heat makes the smallest breeze worth more.”
Pondering this, Edward said, “I’ve never been to the desert. I wonder…”
“What?”
“My body is colder in the winter because of the ambient temperature.”
“You mean thermodynamics?”
“Yes, exactly. My body doesn’t produce its own heat; it simply adjusts to its surroundings. I was just wondering if my skin would feel warm all the time if I lived in the desert.”
Bella gave a little surprised snort. “Doesn’t sunlight make you burst into flames or something?”
“No,” Edward laughed quietly. “Most myths about us are untrue.”
“Then why don’t you go to school on sunny days?”
“I’ll show you sometime,” he promised.
She nodded and was silent for several minutes. She found herself grateful that Edward wasn’t pressing her to share her thoughts, that he let her reveal things at her own pace. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
Bella swallowed, unsure she wanted the answer but certain that she needed to voice the question. “Would you really have killed them?”
“I wanted to.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Edward looked at Bella’s fingers clutching her quilt. The swelling seemed to have gone down a little, but it still looked painful. His memory had permanently stored her attacker's vision of how she looked lying on the asphalt, and what she would look like in an hour’s time. If Edward lived to be a hundred thousand years old, he would never forget that image.
In a voice that left no room for doubt or second-guessing, he said, “Yes.”
Bella nodded slowly, processing. “Why didn’t you?”
He examined her profile. “You.”
Bella glanced up at him sharply. “They hurt me.”
“Will you allow me to explain?” At her nod, he continued. “Don’t think for a second that justice is unwarranted. But you were my priority. Not ideas about revenge or cosmic balancing. Those are just words. Nothing else in the entire world mattered at that moment as much as caring for you.”
Bella blinked several times, and then looked back down at her feet. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I wouldn’t be here right now if not for you.” She sighed. “I just hope no one else gets hurt in my place.”
Edward thought very carefully before he spoke. “They won’t.”
Rather than look up in shock, as he’d been expecting her to, Bella simply grew still. “You went back.” It wasn’t a question.
“It’s taken care of,” Edward whispered, “but not the way you’re probably thinking. No one is dead.”
Confused, Bella asked, “You had them arrested?”
“Not quite,” Edward answered. “The one who…he’s being delivered to the authorities.”
She nodded again, neither obviously pleased nor displeased. “The others?”
“You probably don’t want to hear this,” Edward said slowly, “but the other three were very drunk and didn’t realize what they were getting themselves into at first.”
“You’re right,” Bella agreed. “I don’t want to hear that.”
“I just meant that I don’t believe they would try it again.”
“Oh, I don’t think you’re lying about their thoughts. But that’s not worth anything. I don’t remember any of them trying to stop it from happening in the first place.” She stared down at her lap. “There’s more than one way to be evil.”
“Point taken,” Edward said quietly, remembering the first time he had that very notion. A man died that night, and his daughters retained their innocence. This was the thing Edward had never felt comfortable telling his father: it wasn’t vampirism that cost the Cullens their souls. He used to believe it did, and he let everyone go on thinking that opinion hadn’t changed because he didn’t want to talk about his real feelings before now, didn’t even want to think about it. Instinctive desire to feed on the living wasn’t really the issue; Edward realized long ago that appetites could be curbed, but the fact of having them couldn’t be helped. The real problem was the neutrality with regards to human life. It wasn’t enough to simply abstain from feeding on people. When the suffering of their neighbors inspired neither empathy nor sympathy nor action, when vampires put themselves and their anonymity above their compassion, that was the thing that made them soulless. Every single member of his family, Carlisle included, had been guilty of this at one time or another, whether they acknowledged it or not. Edward had been silently sacrificing his soul for his family’s benefit and his own since 1931.
Saving Bella (twice now) was a really big deal for Edward.
“Can I ask you something now?” he whispered.
Bella nodded.
“How would you feel if I had taken that man’s life tonight?”
Cold wind sighed in the trees as Bella pondered the question. Her two belief systems, of equal importance to her, had always been in conflict on this subject. All life was sacred. An eye for an eye. Neither shalt thou stand against the blood of thy neighbor. Karma. She could never quite make it all fit.
In the heat of the moment she’d been perfectly sure that she wanted to kill all four of those bastards herself, but that moment was past. She knew what people thought about the gruesome jokes she sometimes told, but they were just that: jokes. Gallows humor was what she used to cultivate a thick skin against the horrors other people committed for evil purposes, the evidence of which she would someday process so that the obvious bad guy could be named and justice could be served. But a life being taken horrifically to protect someone else? She wondered if there was a difference, really, between Edward killing on her behalf versus the law performing the task impartially versus a warden dumping convicted rapists and child molesters in a state prison’s general population. Someone would have killed her attacker eventually. At least Edward might have gotten a meal out of it. But would she have felt safe around him, knowing he’d just fed on another human being?
“Is it all right if the answer is ‘I don’t know’?”
“There is no wrong answer,” Edward assured her. He felt he knew her just well enough to be sure whatever conclusion she eventually reached would not be unjust.
“Can we not talk about this anymore?” Bella sighed.
“Whatever you wish,” was the reply.
“No,” she said, wanting to get back to normal, “you don’t have to treat me with kid gloves.”
Catching on quickly, Edward asked her, “Have you ever actually worn kid gloves?”
Bella paused. “Now that I think about it, I don’t even know what they really are.”
“Gloves made from goat leather,” Edward told her. “They were common in America when my mother was alive, but Carlisle says the French used to wear them during the reign of Louis XIV.”
“Oh. So when they say ‘kid…’”
“They mean baby goat,” Edward verified.
Bella thought about this. “Are they softer or something?”
“Softer than cowhide,” Edward said. “But I imagine they were fairly strong. The French used to slap each other with them.”
“Slap…what?” Bella’s eyes seemed so much larger in the dark. “You mean like for a duel? Like in those Bugs Bunny cartoons?”
“Exactly. That’s how they challenged each other.”
“Grown men,” Bella deadpanned, “slapping each other’s faces with fancy leather gloves so they could have a prancing swordfight at dawn.” She looked away and shook her head. “French.”
“Oh, but Facebook drama is so much more masculine,” Edward laughed. Leaning in slightly to get a better look at her, he said, “Is that a smile?”
“I’m trying to imagine you in the middle of a Facebook throw-down.” Bella looked up into the distance, the corner of her mouth lifting a little. “You would so lose.”
“Logic has almost nothing to do with a Facebook fight,” Edward protested. “The only goal is to be the one who gets the last word. Besides, what exactly is my prize if I win? They don’t crown me the king of social networks. I don’t receive a medal for being able to construct a complete sentence without grammatical errors.”
“You get the satisfaction of being right, of course.”
“I have that regardless,” Edward smirked.
“Confident, aren’t we?”
“Experienced. And while we’re on the subject…”
“You’re out of luck. I deleted my page a year ago.”
“That was wise,” Edward praised her, even as he wished she would resume using it.
“Well, who could get any work done with all those damn farming games taking up all my time?”
“Indeed,” Edward said, neutralizing his face so that Bella wouldn’t deduce that one of his false personas had a Frontierville net worth of ten million gold pieces. Or that he frequently increased his inventory by using his siblings’ passwords to log on and send himself game items. Yes it was a waste of time, but even one night is a really long time when you’ve read every book you own and you’re the only male in your house without a wife.
“You got to my house awfully fast,” Bella noted.
“I did.” Here it comes.
“Were you already on the porch when I called?”
“No,” he reassured her. “But I was close by.”
Bella gave him an odd look. “Was I in danger?”
“Not at all,” he promised. “It just felt right, being near you.”
“I swear to god, Edward, if you were peeking through my shower window-”
“I didn’t,” he vowed. “I wouldn’t.” I couldn’t if I wanted to because of the frosted glass. Great, now I kind of want to.
“Don’t think just because you saved my life twice, I’m going to let you have a free peep show,” Bella warned.
Edward lifted his hands in the air as though surrendering. “I’m just glad you didn’t call the cops on me after my first night here.” Slyly, he added, “Not that I’d have been caught, but it would have been embarrassing for both of us none the less.”
“Oh, I had a plan.”
“Right,” Edward snorted. “Mouse traps.”
“That was only Phase One.”
“Phase One? What was Phase Two, a lobster cage?”
“Never you mind.”
“Phase Three was probably something larger, like a tiger pit.”
“Personally, I prefer the Edgar Allan Poe approach,” Bella said breezily. “I’d trick you into chaining yourself up in a corner of the basement, then hide you behind a wall of bricks.”
“For the love of God, Montressor,” Edward quoted, making Bella laugh. The sound was more musical to him than any of his favorite concertos.
“So…” Bella said awkwardly, not sure how to broach the subject. “Duck blood?”
“What?” If Edward had been sipping water, he’d have pulled off an Oscar-worthy spit take. Well, maybe not an Oscar, but definitely a People’s Choice Award.
“Don’t you like it?” Bella asked, confused by Edward’s stupefied expression.
“Are you offering me a drink?”
“No! When have I had time to go shopping for that? Where would I even keep it?” Bella said. “I was just wondering if that’s all you drink.”
“It’s…no…what made you think of duck?” Edward managed to say.
Bella shrugged, deciding it was better not to mention Mr. Carlos by name. “Well, I mentioned Bugs Bunny before, so that got me thinking ‘Duck season or wabbit season.’”
“Wabbit-rabbit season ends March fifteenth for cottontails,” Edward said knowledgably (learning and reciting mundane knowledge always did make him feel better about the chaotic world around him). “So unless Bugs is a European rabbit, after tomorrow he’s safe for the rest of the year.”
“But you like duck and rabbit, don’t you?”
Edward’s mouth slanted to one side. “Not especially. Small, farm-raised animals are a bit like…Chex Mix, I suppose. The plain kind.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “We wouldn’t even bother with them in the wild, but rural slaughterhouses and butchers tend to have large quantities of them, so it’s convenient to purchase the blood sometimes. Generally we prefer hunting big game. Deer and goats will do, but carnivores taste best when we can get them.”
“So you only eat animals that are in season?”
“No,” Edward shook his head. “We’d get dangerously hungry if we did that. I just try not to feed from anything that’s completely banned. Endangered animals, pregnant females, the state bird, that sort of thing.”
Not having any knowledge of what animals were protected in Washington, Bella asked, “Like what?”
“Grizzly bears-which annoys my brother to no end. Marmots, lynxes, grey wolves, certain species of caribou.” Edward smirked. “Swans.”
Bella laughed louder this time. “I should get to bed.” Edward extended his hand, and Bella held it to pull herself up. “Thanks for…this. Everything.”
He remained sitting, looking up into Bella’s face. “Do you want me to stay close by for the night?”
“Just for a little while,” she smiled. “Wait twenty minutes, then go home. I should be asleep by then.”
“You know,” Edward said cautiously, “I think it will be much easier for me to spend time with you safely if I have something of yours to…well, to smell, when you’re not around.”
“You don’t need to explain,” Bella assured him, tapping her own nose. She took Edward’s hand again to balance herself and appeared to be scratching one leg with her other foot, until-
“Catch!”
“Your sock? Are you serious?”
“Do you have any idea how many scent glands are in the human foot?”
“Those are sweat glands, and that smell isn’t from your sweat, it’s from bacteria.”
“What did you think I was going to give you, my bra?”
Edward couldn’t help smiling in answer.
“I don’t think so, buddy. Give me back my sock.”
“Sorry. You’ve lost it forever.”
“Tell me you aren’t going to spend the rest of the night with my sock in your face.”
“I’m not. It’s the principle of the thing.”
“Sock thievery is a principle now?”
“Sock theft has its own online community.”
“Sock thieves need a support group and a twelve-step program.” Bella stood over Edward, positively beaming, still clasping his hand (the one without the sock). “Good night.”
“Good night, Bella.”
Edward waited on the porch, listening as she locked her front door and climbed her stairs. If he could have, he still would have undone her terrible evening, but as far as terrible evenings go, this one was salvaged nicely.
Mostly, Edward thought about Bella’s expression, her bright, trusting smile. At last, she looked genuinely happy. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen that look on her face even once.
Except that he had. In Alice’s vision.
And while there was a part of him thinking Shit, there’ll be no living with Alice for the next fifty years, mostly Edward was overjoyed.
Bella, too, felt lighter, and not just because one of her feet was bare. Finally, finally, she didn’t feel like her life was in a holding pattern until something better came along, she wasn’t missing her mom, and she didn’t wish she was someplace else- even the cold didn’t matter. Renee was right. I must be in love. This is amazing.
They were both so damn happy, neither of them noticed that Charlie wasn’t snoring anymore.
-----------------------------------------
A/N: Leviticus 19:16 “…neither shalt thou stand against the blood of thy neighbor…” This means you should not stand idly by when a human life is in danger.
“In my eyes, you’re everything,” is taken from the lyrics to Rod Stewart’s “Maggie May.”
The current chapter can also be found on FFn here.
Previously: Bella kicked some ass. How often does THAT happen in this franchise?
In My Eyes, You’re Everything
“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Edward asked as he pulled up to Bella’s house.
Thinking for a few moments, Bella finally said, “I’ll be able to keep Charlie fooled, I think. He won’t suspect anything as long as I keep my gloves on.”
“Don’t you want to tell him what happened?” It didn’t make sense to Edward that after being assaulted Bella wouldn’t seek comfort or security from her father, or at the very least, a police report.
“He’s already worried about me,” Bella said.
“With good reason,” Edward reminded her.
“What’s telling him going to accomplish except to get him all worked up?” she shrugged. “He can’t even do anything about it, really, because I can only remember one face, and all four of those guys got away.”
Not for long. “Would you like me to walk you to your door?”
The short walkway from the street to the porch had never looked so long, dark, and threatening. But Bella still shook her head. “I’m good.”
So brave. “Here’s my number if you need anything.” Edward handed her a slip of paper. “It doesn’t matter what time it is.”
“Thanks.” Wincing slightly as her gloves compressed her swollen knuckles, Bella tucked the paper scrap into her purse.
“Remember to ice your hands,” Edward advised, even though he was sure Bella knew that already.
“I will,” she said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She almost leaned over to kiss Edward goodnight before she stopped herself, realizing that she didn’t know if he was quite there yet. Edward caught the movement and the sudden stop, of course. What surprised him was that he might have let her go through with it. He wanted to let her-it seemed so natural. And that was part of the danger he’d almost allowed himself to forget so quickly.
“Good night, Bella,” he whispered, letting her name be his kiss.
“Good night, Edward,” she murmured in kind.
Charlie glanced up from his recliner when Bella came inside. “How was it?”
“Oh, fine,” Bella answered, sounding tired. “Jess found a cute dress, and Angela bought the most beautiful earrings.”
“That’s nice.” Charlie did exactly what Bella had hoped he would: back off the topic of what Bella did all night when it looked like the conversation might get girly. “Are you okay? You look a little worn out.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Bella lied. Realizing Charlie would never believe that, she added, “I fell again. Sidewalk.”
“Bella,” Charlie sighed. “Do you need the clinic?”
“No, no. It’s just some bruising. I’m getting a headache, though.”
“Did you hit your head?” Charlie sat up quickly, alarmed.
“Not that kind of headache,” Bella reassured him, touched by his concern. “If Jess calls, can you tell her I went to bed early?” At Charlie’s nod, she went to the kitchen for an ice pack and headed upstairs.
Little did she know, Jessica had already called.
Chief Swan wasn’t stupid. He knew perfectly well Jessica wouldn’t have called on Bella’s behalf asking to stay out ‘a little later’ if Bella was actually with Jessica. (Although he had to admire Jessica’s attempt at providing an alibi.)
Charlie’s problem at the moment was what to do with his knowledge. The way he saw it, he could either confront Bella or keep it under his hat for a while and try to find out more information on his own. After the argument he’d had with his ex-wife over the weekend, he doubted very much that Renee would agree to share whatever it was that Bella told her, if Bella had said anything at all. That left him with either asking other people what they’d noticed (a risky option, as Bella was more likely to hear Charlie was asking questions than he was to get answers), or spying on her himself.
Or, his conscience nagged at him, I could trust her. She’s nearly a grown woman. She’s been doing just fine without my butting in for the last seventeen years. At least I know she doesn’t have a thing for my K-9 officer. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t. Nobody else on the squad has a death wish. Right?
It took Charlie a long time to fall asleep.
Bella, meanwhile, couldn’t sleep at all.
She’d tried crying in the shower, but the tears wouldn’t come. She tossed and turned in her bed, rocked back and forth in her rocking chair, and sat on the floor and thumped her head on the side of her mattress. She tried reading books, surfing the internet, music, and meditation. Mostly, all she could see was the face of her attacker. All she could hear was his terrible laugh. And all she could do was sit and relive it over and over again.
Around one in the morning, when she was sure Charlie was snoring his loudest, she snatched up the cordless phone from her nightstand and made a call.
xXxXx
From the moment Edward dropped Bella off at home, he knew exactly what he wanted to do.
However, he’d made a commitment to not murder people anymore, no matter how badly they deserved it. Instead, he went to his father and asked for help. Fortunately Carlisle was all too willing to provide assistance. And drugs. Really strong drugs. (Now that he thought about it, Edward wondered how Carlisle got away with keeping that much diazepam on his person. Didn’t the hospital pharmacist get suspicious?)
“Not that I’m complaining,” Carlisle said casually as the pair ran to Port Angeles, “but I find it interesting that you’ve become the Neighborhood Watch type all of a sudden.”
“Is it wrong that I don’t want that animal to hurt anyone else?” Edward asked.
“Of course not,” Carlisle said kindly. “I’m just a little surprised that you’ve chosen to get involved at all. You don’t normally meddle in this kind of thing.”
“I used to,” Edward reminded his father.
“That was different.”
“Yes. That was using my sense of justice as justification to drink from humans. I’m not taking any part of this man into me. I don’t think I could stomach it.”
“What I mean is, your position has always been to either feed on these kinds of criminals or to ignore them altogether,” Carlisle clarified. “You’ve never felt the need to involve the authorities.” Opposite extremes versus a middle way.
“That’s not true,” Edward protested. “But since we have a family policy of keeping out of anything related to the justice system, I have to pretend I don’t know anything and go about my day.”
“You disagree with the rules we’ve made, then?” Carlisle ventured. Silly question. Of course he does. He’s never made a remark like that before, though.
Edward shot a glare at nothing in particular. “Do you have any idea what it’s like, hearing the thoughts of all these people as they’re being victimized? It’s demoralizing. I used to save people. Now I can’t even call 911 unless it’s from a payphone and I don’t give my name.”
Why didn’t I realize how important this is to him? Carlisle thought about what the years had been like for his son, and how strenuously he insisted human thoughts were inconsequential-clearly he’d been trying to convince himself of that just to get through the decades. The permanently surly attitude made a lot more sense now. How could anyone aspire to retain a moral code or sense of humanity in such a situation, let alone a pleasant demeanor? “How long have you felt this way?”
“Since Prohibition, when I came back to you and Esme.”
So long! “Why did you not come to me before?”
“Because it wouldn’t have changed anything,” Edward explained. “There’s a logical case for maintaining silence. I don’t want police knocking on our door asking for witness statements any more than you do. I have a duty to my family, and I’ve put that first because that’s what we do. But we have all these chances to make the world better for the people around us, and we let those opportunities pass us by.”
“I think I make a positive impact on humanity,” Carlisle commented, trying not to sound hurt.
“Yes, you do,” Edward agreed. “But it’s just you. I want to make a difference, too.”
“Your sisters donate to charity.”
“I’d like to think I can do better than just writing a check.”
“You can always go back to medical school,” Carlisle suggested.
“By the time I’m done with undergrad, med school, and residency, I’ll look too young for my public age.” Edward shook his head. “I have to work with what I’ve got, Carlisle. I’d like my contribution to prevent harm. Frankly, I’m tired of justifying my inaction by telling myself it’s not my place to interfere with human history.”
“Son, I want to support you any way I can,” Carlisle said quickly, “but you know we can’t afford publicity.”
“The Volturi do it every few centuries,” Edward countered calmly. “They change their names and write themselves into the history books as saviors of man. But can you imagine what the world would have been like if we’d prevented the Kennedy assassination? Or the Jonestown Massacre in Guyana?”
Carlisle chose not to comment on all the times Alice made dire predictions for major events in the world around them, especially in the last fifteen years. Occasionally one or two of the family members would say ‘We really should do something about that,’ but the most anyone ever did, aside from restraining Edward until his urge to feed on the latest homicidal maniac had passed, was to decide it was a good time to move to Canada again. The problem with the Cullens was that the majority of them clung to humanity in theory while looking down their noses at it in practice. They thought of the human condition the way most urban Americans think of wildlife and nature: ‘it’s quite awful how bad things are getting for them, and we don’t mind helping out financially or recycling or whatever, but beyond that it’s not really our problem.’ If that sounds crass, that’s because it is.
“I’m not trying to become Batman here,” Edward sighed. “I’m just sick of sitting on my hands and doing nothing.”
“Personally,” Carlisle noted, “I’m glad you want to make a contribution at all.” When Edward didn’t respond, Carlisle thought, She’s good for you. So many changes already.
Edward smiled grimly. “Time to change something right now.” Indicating a pub not far from where the two vampires had come to a stop, he said, “In there. He thought of coming here in case he needed an alibi.”
“All four of them?”
Edward listened intently. “Just the ring leader.”
“Are you going to round up his companions?”
The boy shook his head. “No, the others didn’t touch her.”
“Very well, then. Which one is he?”
“Last bar stool on the far end, long dirty hair, bruises all over his face.”
Carlisle lifted an eyebrow. “Bruises?” I thought you said you didn’t harm him.
“I didn’t,” Edward murmured, thinking of her now. “Bella is many things, but she’s not meek.”
Observing the worry lines on his son’s forehead, Carlisle ordered, “Go. I’ll take care of this for you. Watch over her.”
“I thought you disapproved of that,” Edward said.
“Stand watch outside,” his father advised. “I don’t think she’d mind this once.”
So it was that when Bella made her late-night phone call to Edward, he was already in the trees nearby her home, listening to the night creatures chirping below him.
“Edward?”
“Right here, Bella.”
“I can’t sleep.”
That makes two of us. Fortunately Edward was sensitive enough not to start cracking jokes. For once. “Want some company?”
“Yes, please,” Bella said breathily. “Front porch?”
“I’m already there.” Hearing Bella’s breath catch, he added, “I was in the neighborhood.”
Bella appeared at her door a few minutes later, bundled up in thick socks, a bath robe, and her grandmother’s ugly quilt.
“Are you okay?”
Bella nodded yes…then shook her head no. With clumsy, tired movements, she sat herself down on the edge of porch, feet dangling, letting the wind blow across her face. Edward hesitated, then sat beside her. It helped that he’d just hunted over the weekend, but still, he left a few inches between them. If nothing else, Bella might need the space.
So he was more than a little surprised when Bella slowly leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. His every nerve ending lit up, his mind recording the sensation of her warm cheek burning through his shirt. His body was cast into confusion as he tried to patiently wait out her noiseless tears while desperately fighting the competing instincts to do…something. Hold her. Kiss her head. Press his mouth to her carotid artery. Tell her he loved her more than anything.
“You know why I love the desert?” she finally said, lifting her weary head and wiping her face.
“Tell me.”
“The heat makes the smallest breeze worth more.”
Pondering this, Edward said, “I’ve never been to the desert. I wonder…”
“What?”
“My body is colder in the winter because of the ambient temperature.”
“You mean thermodynamics?”
“Yes, exactly. My body doesn’t produce its own heat; it simply adjusts to its surroundings. I was just wondering if my skin would feel warm all the time if I lived in the desert.”
Bella gave a little surprised snort. “Doesn’t sunlight make you burst into flames or something?”
“No,” Edward laughed quietly. “Most myths about us are untrue.”
“Then why don’t you go to school on sunny days?”
“I’ll show you sometime,” he promised.
She nodded and was silent for several minutes. She found herself grateful that Edward wasn’t pressing her to share her thoughts, that he let her reveal things at her own pace. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
Bella swallowed, unsure she wanted the answer but certain that she needed to voice the question. “Would you really have killed them?”
“I wanted to.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Edward looked at Bella’s fingers clutching her quilt. The swelling seemed to have gone down a little, but it still looked painful. His memory had permanently stored her attacker's vision of how she looked lying on the asphalt, and what she would look like in an hour’s time. If Edward lived to be a hundred thousand years old, he would never forget that image.
In a voice that left no room for doubt or second-guessing, he said, “Yes.”
Bella nodded slowly, processing. “Why didn’t you?”
He examined her profile. “You.”
Bella glanced up at him sharply. “They hurt me.”
“Will you allow me to explain?” At her nod, he continued. “Don’t think for a second that justice is unwarranted. But you were my priority. Not ideas about revenge or cosmic balancing. Those are just words. Nothing else in the entire world mattered at that moment as much as caring for you.”
Bella blinked several times, and then looked back down at her feet. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I wouldn’t be here right now if not for you.” She sighed. “I just hope no one else gets hurt in my place.”
Edward thought very carefully before he spoke. “They won’t.”
Rather than look up in shock, as he’d been expecting her to, Bella simply grew still. “You went back.” It wasn’t a question.
“It’s taken care of,” Edward whispered, “but not the way you’re probably thinking. No one is dead.”
Confused, Bella asked, “You had them arrested?”
“Not quite,” Edward answered. “The one who…he’s being delivered to the authorities.”
She nodded again, neither obviously pleased nor displeased. “The others?”
“You probably don’t want to hear this,” Edward said slowly, “but the other three were very drunk and didn’t realize what they were getting themselves into at first.”
“You’re right,” Bella agreed. “I don’t want to hear that.”
“I just meant that I don’t believe they would try it again.”
“Oh, I don’t think you’re lying about their thoughts. But that’s not worth anything. I don’t remember any of them trying to stop it from happening in the first place.” She stared down at her lap. “There’s more than one way to be evil.”
“Point taken,” Edward said quietly, remembering the first time he had that very notion. A man died that night, and his daughters retained their innocence. This was the thing Edward had never felt comfortable telling his father: it wasn’t vampirism that cost the Cullens their souls. He used to believe it did, and he let everyone go on thinking that opinion hadn’t changed because he didn’t want to talk about his real feelings before now, didn’t even want to think about it. Instinctive desire to feed on the living wasn’t really the issue; Edward realized long ago that appetites could be curbed, but the fact of having them couldn’t be helped. The real problem was the neutrality with regards to human life. It wasn’t enough to simply abstain from feeding on people. When the suffering of their neighbors inspired neither empathy nor sympathy nor action, when vampires put themselves and their anonymity above their compassion, that was the thing that made them soulless. Every single member of his family, Carlisle included, had been guilty of this at one time or another, whether they acknowledged it or not. Edward had been silently sacrificing his soul for his family’s benefit and his own since 1931.
Saving Bella (twice now) was a really big deal for Edward.
“Can I ask you something now?” he whispered.
Bella nodded.
“How would you feel if I had taken that man’s life tonight?”
Cold wind sighed in the trees as Bella pondered the question. Her two belief systems, of equal importance to her, had always been in conflict on this subject. All life was sacred. An eye for an eye. Neither shalt thou stand against the blood of thy neighbor. Karma. She could never quite make it all fit.
In the heat of the moment she’d been perfectly sure that she wanted to kill all four of those bastards herself, but that moment was past. She knew what people thought about the gruesome jokes she sometimes told, but they were just that: jokes. Gallows humor was what she used to cultivate a thick skin against the horrors other people committed for evil purposes, the evidence of which she would someday process so that the obvious bad guy could be named and justice could be served. But a life being taken horrifically to protect someone else? She wondered if there was a difference, really, between Edward killing on her behalf versus the law performing the task impartially versus a warden dumping convicted rapists and child molesters in a state prison’s general population. Someone would have killed her attacker eventually. At least Edward might have gotten a meal out of it. But would she have felt safe around him, knowing he’d just fed on another human being?
“Is it all right if the answer is ‘I don’t know’?”
“There is no wrong answer,” Edward assured her. He felt he knew her just well enough to be sure whatever conclusion she eventually reached would not be unjust.
“Can we not talk about this anymore?” Bella sighed.
“Whatever you wish,” was the reply.
“No,” she said, wanting to get back to normal, “you don’t have to treat me with kid gloves.”
Catching on quickly, Edward asked her, “Have you ever actually worn kid gloves?”
Bella paused. “Now that I think about it, I don’t even know what they really are.”
“Gloves made from goat leather,” Edward told her. “They were common in America when my mother was alive, but Carlisle says the French used to wear them during the reign of Louis XIV.”
“Oh. So when they say ‘kid…’”
“They mean baby goat,” Edward verified.
Bella thought about this. “Are they softer or something?”
“Softer than cowhide,” Edward said. “But I imagine they were fairly strong. The French used to slap each other with them.”
“Slap…what?” Bella’s eyes seemed so much larger in the dark. “You mean like for a duel? Like in those Bugs Bunny cartoons?”
“Exactly. That’s how they challenged each other.”
“Grown men,” Bella deadpanned, “slapping each other’s faces with fancy leather gloves so they could have a prancing swordfight at dawn.” She looked away and shook her head. “French.”
“Oh, but Facebook drama is so much more masculine,” Edward laughed. Leaning in slightly to get a better look at her, he said, “Is that a smile?”
“I’m trying to imagine you in the middle of a Facebook throw-down.” Bella looked up into the distance, the corner of her mouth lifting a little. “You would so lose.”
“Logic has almost nothing to do with a Facebook fight,” Edward protested. “The only goal is to be the one who gets the last word. Besides, what exactly is my prize if I win? They don’t crown me the king of social networks. I don’t receive a medal for being able to construct a complete sentence without grammatical errors.”
“You get the satisfaction of being right, of course.”
“I have that regardless,” Edward smirked.
“Confident, aren’t we?”
“Experienced. And while we’re on the subject…”
“You’re out of luck. I deleted my page a year ago.”
“That was wise,” Edward praised her, even as he wished she would resume using it.
“Well, who could get any work done with all those damn farming games taking up all my time?”
“Indeed,” Edward said, neutralizing his face so that Bella wouldn’t deduce that one of his false personas had a Frontierville net worth of ten million gold pieces. Or that he frequently increased his inventory by using his siblings’ passwords to log on and send himself game items. Yes it was a waste of time, but even one night is a really long time when you’ve read every book you own and you’re the only male in your house without a wife.
“You got to my house awfully fast,” Bella noted.
“I did.” Here it comes.
“Were you already on the porch when I called?”
“No,” he reassured her. “But I was close by.”
Bella gave him an odd look. “Was I in danger?”
“Not at all,” he promised. “It just felt right, being near you.”
“I swear to god, Edward, if you were peeking through my shower window-”
“I didn’t,” he vowed. “I wouldn’t.” I couldn’t if I wanted to because of the frosted glass. Great, now I kind of want to.
“Don’t think just because you saved my life twice, I’m going to let you have a free peep show,” Bella warned.
Edward lifted his hands in the air as though surrendering. “I’m just glad you didn’t call the cops on me after my first night here.” Slyly, he added, “Not that I’d have been caught, but it would have been embarrassing for both of us none the less.”
“Oh, I had a plan.”
“Right,” Edward snorted. “Mouse traps.”
“That was only Phase One.”
“Phase One? What was Phase Two, a lobster cage?”
“Never you mind.”
“Phase Three was probably something larger, like a tiger pit.”
“Personally, I prefer the Edgar Allan Poe approach,” Bella said breezily. “I’d trick you into chaining yourself up in a corner of the basement, then hide you behind a wall of bricks.”
“For the love of God, Montressor,” Edward quoted, making Bella laugh. The sound was more musical to him than any of his favorite concertos.
“So…” Bella said awkwardly, not sure how to broach the subject. “Duck blood?”
“What?” If Edward had been sipping water, he’d have pulled off an Oscar-worthy spit take. Well, maybe not an Oscar, but definitely a People’s Choice Award.
“Don’t you like it?” Bella asked, confused by Edward’s stupefied expression.
“Are you offering me a drink?”
“No! When have I had time to go shopping for that? Where would I even keep it?” Bella said. “I was just wondering if that’s all you drink.”
“It’s…no…what made you think of duck?” Edward managed to say.
Bella shrugged, deciding it was better not to mention Mr. Carlos by name. “Well, I mentioned Bugs Bunny before, so that got me thinking ‘Duck season or wabbit season.’”
“Wabbit-rabbit season ends March fifteenth for cottontails,” Edward said knowledgably (learning and reciting mundane knowledge always did make him feel better about the chaotic world around him). “So unless Bugs is a European rabbit, after tomorrow he’s safe for the rest of the year.”
“But you like duck and rabbit, don’t you?”
Edward’s mouth slanted to one side. “Not especially. Small, farm-raised animals are a bit like…Chex Mix, I suppose. The plain kind.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “We wouldn’t even bother with them in the wild, but rural slaughterhouses and butchers tend to have large quantities of them, so it’s convenient to purchase the blood sometimes. Generally we prefer hunting big game. Deer and goats will do, but carnivores taste best when we can get them.”
“So you only eat animals that are in season?”
“No,” Edward shook his head. “We’d get dangerously hungry if we did that. I just try not to feed from anything that’s completely banned. Endangered animals, pregnant females, the state bird, that sort of thing.”
Not having any knowledge of what animals were protected in Washington, Bella asked, “Like what?”
“Grizzly bears-which annoys my brother to no end. Marmots, lynxes, grey wolves, certain species of caribou.” Edward smirked. “Swans.”
Bella laughed louder this time. “I should get to bed.” Edward extended his hand, and Bella held it to pull herself up. “Thanks for…this. Everything.”
He remained sitting, looking up into Bella’s face. “Do you want me to stay close by for the night?”
“Just for a little while,” she smiled. “Wait twenty minutes, then go home. I should be asleep by then.”
“You know,” Edward said cautiously, “I think it will be much easier for me to spend time with you safely if I have something of yours to…well, to smell, when you’re not around.”
“You don’t need to explain,” Bella assured him, tapping her own nose. She took Edward’s hand again to balance herself and appeared to be scratching one leg with her other foot, until-
“Catch!”
“Your sock? Are you serious?”
“Do you have any idea how many scent glands are in the human foot?”
“Those are sweat glands, and that smell isn’t from your sweat, it’s from bacteria.”
“What did you think I was going to give you, my bra?”
Edward couldn’t help smiling in answer.
“I don’t think so, buddy. Give me back my sock.”
“Sorry. You’ve lost it forever.”
“Tell me you aren’t going to spend the rest of the night with my sock in your face.”
“I’m not. It’s the principle of the thing.”
“Sock thievery is a principle now?”
“Sock theft has its own online community.”
“Sock thieves need a support group and a twelve-step program.” Bella stood over Edward, positively beaming, still clasping his hand (the one without the sock). “Good night.”
“Good night, Bella.”
Edward waited on the porch, listening as she locked her front door and climbed her stairs. If he could have, he still would have undone her terrible evening, but as far as terrible evenings go, this one was salvaged nicely.
Mostly, Edward thought about Bella’s expression, her bright, trusting smile. At last, she looked genuinely happy. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen that look on her face even once.
Except that he had. In Alice’s vision.
And while there was a part of him thinking Shit, there’ll be no living with Alice for the next fifty years, mostly Edward was overjoyed.
Bella, too, felt lighter, and not just because one of her feet was bare. Finally, finally, she didn’t feel like her life was in a holding pattern until something better came along, she wasn’t missing her mom, and she didn’t wish she was someplace else- even the cold didn’t matter. Renee was right. I must be in love. This is amazing.
They were both so damn happy, neither of them noticed that Charlie wasn’t snoring anymore.
-----------------------------------------
A/N: Leviticus 19:16 “…neither shalt thou stand against the blood of thy neighbor…” This means you should not stand idly by when a human life is in danger.
“In my eyes, you’re everything,” is taken from the lyrics to Rod Stewart’s “Maggie May.”