Night 50: F31-F40 Hallway

[bodhiandspirit]

A ring. Like she did with the Exsphere earlier, Rita attempted to bring up the interface that would allow her to examine the gem's properties in better detail, but it was no use. All she had to go off of was the Head Doctor's explanation, and whether that could be trusted or not remained to be seen

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[vitale]

So, a coincidence. Bella nodded her head, though she was still curious as to what they talked about. Did he like Claire? Could he read anything from her? At the mention of her being human, she let out a soft laugh, knowing how the girl had some kind of ... immortality of sorts. "Me? Friends with normal people? Like that'll ever happen. I'm still waiting to be friends with a witch, you know. Or a wizard. Harry Potter would suffice."

However, at Edward's doofus grin, the teenager couldn't help but blush a bright red color, letting out a huff of defeat. She had known it was going to make him happy, but this ... he was like a child.

The feel of the cool metal slipping onto her finger, oddly enough, sent a calm feeling washing over her. It was as light as she remembered it to be ... light and perfect, almost like it was made to become a part of her. Shuddering slightly at the feel of his lips against her hand, Bella smiled up at Edward for a moment before allowing an amused grin to cross her lips as well. "And here I was thinking you were going to make a remark about me asking to put it on. I had a rebuttal all ready and everything - was going to call you Smugward. Maybe next time."

But honestly, she loved seeing Edward happy. It made her feel invincible.

... And she'd rather he be happy now, considering once he saw the stab wound on her back - if he recognized it as a stab wound, anyway, - he probably wasn't going to be very happy anymore.

... Unless he forgot.

With her hand still in his, Bella carefully moved her hand so their palms were aligned, and she entwined her fingers with his own, reforming that constant link between them once more. "I promise to take better care of it this time."

[sanguinario]

"I thought about it, but decided against it," Edward admitted with a soft laugh, lowering her hand. The ring was warm against her skin, even after only a few moments of contact, but it was most definitely his mother's... or a perfect copy. Because of its age, he rather doubter the latter thought. "I don't think I'm all that smug, though... the moniker smugward is interesting. I think I like it." He gave her forehead a quick kiss and stepped past her, lifting the first aid kit from her drawer.

No, he hadn't forgotten. She wasn't about to be that lucky.

"If it survives tonight, I think it will be able to survive anything." He snapped the box open, rather surprised to see how well-stocked it was: gauze, bandages, elastic... even instructions on how to mend basic injuries. He supposed that would have been necessary to training nurses, but it seemed a rather small treasure in a den of garbage. "Now, if you'll turn around and remove your shirt, we can get this over with. I want to see the one on your shoulder blade first."

[vitale]

"I have others," Bella told him as she moved towards her bed, sitting down on it with her back to him, "But I think I'll save them for a rainy day. A few are pretty good, I admit. You name is pretty easy to add things to." She was completely joking, of course, and she knew he knew that.

So she could tease him too. Who knew?

However, at the mention of her injuries once again, the teenager admitted defeat in ever trying to get away from his cautious side. She honestly knew better than to doubt his memory, what with it being photographic and all, but sometimes she hoped. Oh, how she hoped.

That being said, Bella turned and gave Edward a solid glare, watching him. "Fine. But you turn around too. No peeking."

Not that she minded. At all.

Once she knew he had done as she had asked, the teenager carefully removed her shirt (he said take it off, after all.), wincing when she pulled the piece of clothing over her head, stretching her arm. She only hoped that Edward was still turned around and that he didn't see her flinch.

With her shirt off and her back turned towards the vampire, Bella pulled her shirt close to the front of her chest and turned her head to look at the now bandaged stab wound on her back, sighing. There was a red splotch, but she knew that the wound was closed. Either way, the stain was from last night, so she hoped he wouldn't freak out about it.

Turning her head back towards the wall, she sighed. "Just ... promise me you won't freak out, okay? And if you do, none of that internal torture nonsense. I'd much rather you talk to me then to no one at all."

[sanguinario]

He turned around as she'd requested, threading his fingers together in preparation. He could do this. As much as he'd been through, harming Bella was an action he instinctively flinched away from; that included how the smell of her blood had changed to him. But he himself had changed since the two of them had walked along the ridges of those mountains in July, and a lot of it had to do with survival.

Or so he was telling himself. He didn't have a choice - it was either human blood from an indirect source, or the living, breathing, beating actual source. His eyes were still red as a physical representation of the choice he'd made - the vial of blood in his bag even more so.

Deep breath. He smelled her immediately. Old blood and new, gauze, bandages. The fire in his throat roared up, angry and raw, but he ignored it. Now that he had become accustomed to human blood, all of it was particularly... strong.

"No internal torture. I may be able to do that," he said, then turned around, staring at the raw, red wound in her back. Maybe not. At least he held in his initial flare of rage, but all of what she called "internal torture" was still bubbling beneath the surface, along with all the thoughts associated with it. If he'd been with her, it wouldn't have happened - it'd be his wound, and that was all right.

Detachment, he heard in Carlisle's voice, reminding him of the training his pseudo-father had tried to instill in him. It'd never worked - not completely - but it helped. Carlisle could still be invested in his patients, but Edward hadn't had the control for that back then. He still didn't, really. Carlisle would always excel him in that.

He set his hands on her shoulders, eyeing the wound - it was clean, sharp; some sort of stab-like wound, but not enough force in it to be that. Not a knife, either. Too jagged and uneven for that. "I need to touch it, but it's going to hurt. Is that all right? I promise I wouldn't do it if it weren't necessary."

[vitale]

"May should be can," the teenager muttered under her breath, closing her eyes when Edward moved to the bed with her, his hands on her shoulders. Her heart was pounding, knowing that within the next few minutes she was going to be in ... well, more pain than she was now.

Needless to say, at Edward's question, Bella nodded her head quickly, tensing up in preparation. She knew she could handle the pain; she just had to keep telling herself that she had felt worse ... physical and mental. Nothing would beat the pain she felt those months ago when she had been alone ...

And having her leg snapped in half was a good thing to remember as well.

So she focused on that. "If I make any sounds, I'm sorry. I'll try to be quiet." Lowering her head, Bella took a slow breath in, her hands shaking slightly. She never really was a big fan of pain, after all. She stared down at her lap, willing her hands to stop shaking. She gripped tightly onto the shirt she was covering herself with in hopes of it hiding the quaking.

Stealing herself, Bella bit tightly down on her bottom lip and shut her eyes once again, hair falling around her face and effectively blocking her expression from Edward.

[sanguinario]

"Don't try. If you try to control your reactions to the pain, it's going to make you more tense and irritate your shoulder." Congratulations Edward, that sounded disgustingly clinical. Good job. But it worked. If he could remain clinical, the blood that had blossomed on the bandage a few inches from his face wouldn't bother him.

Too much.

He maneuvered her to the edge of the bed so he could sit behind her, legs on either side of hers; it gave him enough room to move around and reach the first aid kit, which he'd placed on the pillow next to him. He began by gently peeling back the bandage - it stuck somewhat because of the dried blood had bonded it to the wound, and cracking that began a slow trickle of new blood.

Don't focus on it.

Maybe if he had something else to focus on... it could help both of them. "I can talk about something trivial if it will help. It'd offer a hand you could bite down on, but this is going to require both of mine."

[vitale]

"Oh," she sighed, though still bit down on her lip every chance she got. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him, oh god.

When the bandage was pulled off Bella couldn't help but wince, simply focusing on her breathing ... at least, for a moment. Edward had another idea, and truth be told, it couldn't hurt to try. "Sure," she said, her voice cracking a bit as the fear started to get to her once again. "I don't know what you should talk about though, so don't ask me."

She could also see this getting nowhere.

... But then again ...

"Or ... wait. Tell me ... about something before we met. What you did, who you saw, where you went. And make sure it's riveting; no details left unsaid or anything. In return I'll tell you something about my life when this whole thing is done." She hoped it sounded like a fair trade - she really knew ... nothing about his life before she met him other than he was often bored and angry, but that was it. Surely there had to be something he liked before meeting her.

[sanguinario]

Edward paused in his ministrations to tear a strip of cloth off of his shirt and think over her request. He used it to dab away at the blood sliding down her back, using more effort than he was comfortable with to lay the soiled strip on his leg rather than to his mouth. He really should have taken that vial of blood before he'd started... but then again, that could have made the thirst worse instead of better.

"You think my life before you is more interesting than it really was," he finally answered truthfully - back then, existing was mostly just... that. He didn't really have any goals or any desires except for nightly feedings. The thrill of the hunt had always been fascinating, but that was more an animalistic instinct than anything he desired himself. A way to keep his body hunting. That was all. "I never did anything more than once, though; the places my family moved to were always different. It hasn't been quite long enough to revisit any old homes just yet. The only thing that I used to consistently do was visit my mother's grave in Chicago. At least once a year, if not more. It's a way to cling to my old humanity, I suppose. Give me another decade or two and I probably won't be able to recall what she looked like. Even now, the details are hazy."

The wound was slightly reopened, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to open it even more... but if he was right, he might need to. He hadn't brought any of the pain medication from his room; a fact he was sincerely regretting right now. "This wound is from glass, isn't it? I want to open the wound to make sure there aren't any slivers of glass left over, but it's going to hurt. I have morphine in my room if you want me to get some for this."

[vitale]

For what it was worth, it worked. Bella listened intently to Edward as he told her his stories, suddenly perking up when he mentioned his mother in Chicago. "All the way to Chicago? Wow," a pause, and she frowned. "I've never been, but I've heard Chicago is nice ... a fun city with stuff to do, like Phoenix."

However, Edward's comments after that had her frowning. "I'm ... sorry," she whispered, turning her gaze towards the floor. She couldn't imagine not remembering what her mother looked like, or her father ... but she knew it would happen. After a few decades, everyone you know will be dead.

"Maybe if you recall what you can, at least for a few minutes every day ... you'll slowly be able to remember again. Or write the things down that you remember ... I know you have a few journals in your room - not that I was peeping or anything ... I never read them I promise. It could ... help." Would she do such a thing after she was changed? Bella knew she didn't want to forget anything about her life before being turned, but she wondered if she would write down everything. Things were different for her - she was growing up in an age that had instant cameras and portable recording devices ... anything she wanted to remember she could just literally record it. For Edward it was different; he hadn't had the privilege that she did.

Drawn up in her thoughts, she barely heard what Edward was saying. "Hm?" she asked, not really hearing ...

Until seconds later his comments struck, and Bella froze, all the blood draining her face.

Oh god.

"No," she told the vampire with a slight shake of her head, "Let it hurt. It'll prepare me for when I become like you."

A pause, and Bella turned to look at Edward over her shoulder. "Maybe I can lie on my stomach and shove my face in a pillow so that way I can ... you know, scream. If needed."