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damned_institute2011-03-09 12:03 pm
tightsofmight) wrote in damned_institute2011-03-09 12:03 pm
Entry tags:
- aidou,
- alaric,
- albedo,
- anise,
- ax,
- badd,
- battler,
- bella,
- brainiac 5,
- byrne,
- canada,
- claire bennet,
- claire littleton,
- claire stanfield,
- claude,
- damon,
- dean winchester,
- dexter,
- edgar,
- edward cullen,
- erika,
- firo,
- franziska,
- goku (dragonball),
- gren,
- gumshoe,
- guy,
- guybrush,
- ilia,
- japan,
- kairi,
- kaworu,
- kenshin,
- kibitoshin,
- kinomoto sakura,
- kirk,
- klavier,
- kratos,
- l,
- lana skye,
- leela,
- lightning,
- lion,
- lunge,
- matt,
- maya,
- mccoy,
- mele,
- mello,
- minato,
- nigredo,
- peter parker,
- peter petrelli,
- prussia,
- rapunzel,
- renamon,
- rita,
- ritsuka,
- roxas,
- ruby,
- s.t.,
- sam winchester,
- sasuke,
- scott pilgrim,
- shinji,
- snow,
- sora,
- soren,
- spock,
- stefan,
- sync,
- taura,
- the doctor,
- the flash,
- the scarecrow,
- tsubaki,
- two-face,
- venom,
- yue,
- zack,
- zevran
Day 55: Cafeteria
A night spent inside his room had done nothing to ease his jitters. Peter couldn't stop worrying. Over Brainy, what he thought of him now that he knew about what he'd done to Grell, and where he was going for the night. If he'd be safe. If Indy and the others would be safe, trucking on down to the basement. (Not frigging likely, considering 'basement' was synonymous for 'giant ass doom pit'.) If that ominous intercom announcement had meant anything. Peter had spent hours staring into the dark after that, his stomach churning his supper into butter over the horrific possibilities. Whatever punishment that arose for the food fight was a mystery. It didn't seem to infect him, unless it was a particularly trying case of insomnia. No matter how badly Peter tried, he couldn't find the will to sleep. Much of the night had been spent making notations and doodles in his journal by flashlight, peppered with long stretches of staring at the dark.
Honestly, he'd rather be taking another crack at the Hall of Hallucinations instead of rolling around in his bed. Paranoia was his only company the whole night.
Morning felt like a blessing by the time it came. He wasn't sure when sleep had finally overtaken him, but as he blinked his way into life he couldn't help feeling a bit...off.
It was really quiet. Peter's face scrunched under the light, and he stretched underneath the covers. There was a zip of cotton on cotton, and his shirt half dragged itself out from under the belt.
His eyes shot open. Belt? The covers flipped back, and Peter gaped down at his form on the bed. ...Belt?!
What the frigging hell was this? Peter jolted to his feet, patting himself down. He looked like some kind of air cadet. There were freaking epaulettes on his shoulders (was that even what they were called?), boots on his feet and a beret on the dresser. A single pin was nestled into the front, looking freshly polished as it glinted in the light. Peter snatched the hat up and stared. Two letters were inscribed on the pin. Nothing more, nothing less.
"SC..."
Special Counseling? Peter's expression took a turn for the frantic. What else could it stand for? He tried to run through a few candidates, but nothing stuck. Nothing applied so neatly without being ridiculous, because it clearly didn't stand for Super Cuckoo or Spider Cadet. Was he supposed to wear this like some stupid badge of honour? God, just brand it across his forehead, why don't you? My name is Peter Parker and I totally snapped a guy's arm for Mother Landel's. Hail the Smiley!
Peter pressed the beret against his face and groaned into the fabric. This was it. They weren't playing games anymore. They were finally turning this into death match boot camp and sending them off to war. Shit. Shit he was going to be in the frigging army in some messed up alternate universe, and he didn't even know what the frick they were fighting against or why they were fighting. If they were pulling magical whatsits out of every book and TV show known to man, then who knew what wacky threat they were up against. Aliens? If it was aliens, he was quitting. He was going to curl up on the ground hugging a grenade and pull the pin. Just no. No. This was not happening. This could not be frigging happening.
Except that it was. The person who whipped open the door that morning wasn't the affably sour Nurse Rachel, but a hulking, thickly built man who looked like he consumed a toddler a meal solely to fuel his pecs. Peter couldn't even find the breath to argue as he was told to tuck in his shirt and put on his boots and come to the cafeteria. He left just as another soldier brushed past them to collect Brainy, and Peter abruptly realized that in his confusion he'd forgotten to check if the boy was okay.
Too late for that now. Peter tried to match pace with the burly man, fumbling to put his snazzy new beret on and watching with wary eyes as other patients were dragged by. Things seemed even bleaker as they hit the cafeteria. The buffet was empty. The scent of food was lacking. Soldiers packed along the borders of the room so neatly you would think they were part of a particularly tacky wall paper. And worst of all? Buckets. Mops and rags and brooms, all piled in the center of the room.
The lady officer's speech was entirely unnecessary at that point. Peter withered where he stood as she told them their duty. It was like a scolding from Aunt May, if someone gave her a gun and a license to use it. Except the joke only made things worse - now he just wanted his Aunt. The force of his loneliness bowled him over like a wrecking ball. He might never see Aunt May again. Peter's gaze fell to the floor and he clenched his fists.
Was this it? Was his life really over? Escape never seemed so far away.
There was no protest from him as they were sent to work. Ashen and queasy, Peter stumbled towards the cleaning supplies and selected a bucket and a rag. He couldn't even bemoan his lack of breakfast. His nerves were making it impossible to even think about food.
They needed to get out tonight. Everyone. Somehow...
[Lion!]
no subject
When Edward's fingers moved up his neck to feel only clean skin there and on his face, he sighed with relief. As much as he did not want to admit it, the sacrifice of pain had been worth it for the blood. He was free of its sticky hold on his skin, he was free of the raw burn of his thirst, he was free of... his gray clothes.
He noticed the difference immediately when his mind caught up with him. Crisp, clean. Unscented. Tight. When he carefully sat up and slid to the edge of his bed, he could see why. Aguilar - the Eagle - hadn't taken his threats lightly. He was clothed in a military uniform, the ones that reminded him of the children in ROTC programs, with a small, dark beret staring at him from his desk. On top of the shirt was a dog tag, stamped boldly with his fake name.
Rubbing his fingers over the words, he frowned. It was a little late to give him a dog tag, considering he'd been dead for over ninety years. Was the real owner of this name still alive? Was there a real owner?
Edward placed his feet squarely on the ground, standing up solidly. Even as much as he had learned last night, he still felt like nothing had been accomplished. The excitement, the adrenaline... all of it had faded away. Somehow, he wasn't surprised when he stumbled to his closet and saw absolutely nothing in it; it just echoed that empty feeling. No shotgun, no bottles, rotting or otherwise.
No pool cue.
There was no polite knocking before the door opened, one of the soldiers from the previous day moving through with complete disinterest. "Cafeteria. Tuck in your shirt, first."
With one arm? But he did it without arguing, awkwardly and struggling at times. He hated the feeling of the sleeve rubbing against his arm in the sling. It felt irritating.
The soldier jerked his head towards the hallway, clearly ready to get him where he needed to go. With only a nod, Edward followed him silently. It barely bothered him to know that these men, too, were entirely immune to his telepathy. At least there was no pain coming from trying to listen.
The cafeteria itself was blissfully free of the warm smell of foods. There was only a small grouping of patients positioned there, on the floor with sponges and buckets of water by their sides. No sign of Bella or Stefan, so he immediately looked away with disinterest. Cleaning up the food fight. Of course. It rather shocked him that all the man guiding him did was point to a chair, pushed off to the side, before leaving.
What, they weren't going to torture him by making him clean in his weakened state? How disappointing.
[For his soul mate. :(]
no subject
Last night ... how had last night ended? Honestly, she couldn't remember. Everything seemed hazy; was it the pain? There had been no pain last night. What had happened? How had that happened? She didn't know if she wanted to find out. Through the food? Through something that had been slipped into the air? No clue. No clue at all.
Holy shit, ow.
Bella moaned as she carefully pushed herself up in her bed with very unsteady arms, looking down to see the damage -
But she was wearing something else. Something very ... army like.
"What the hell?" she was momentarily distracted from the pain, and instead carefully slid her feet out from under the blankets and to the floor. She was now wearing some kind of dark, tight pants, as well as the blue shirt. When had she been changed? And why into military garb? Looking down at her hands, she couldn't see any skin; bandages everywhere. Feeling through her shirt (after a slow process of reaching up) she touched the bandages that lay underneath. How much of her body was bandaged? She could feel her neck was covered, but she didn't know what else.
Oh, right, my ankle, she thought bitterly, looking down to, indeed, see her ankle bandaged. Upon further inspection, she could feel what appeared to be stitches on her head. At least that cut was small and didn't hurt as much as her arms or neck.
Suddenly, the door was swung open, and Bella couldn't help but jump in surprise as a soldier walked in and stared at her for a moment before telling her to put on her shoes and follow him out the door. He quickly then added (rather curtly, she noted) to tuck in her shirt and grab the hat on her desk.
Augh. I am not a hat person.
After trying her hardest not to limp after the soldier, Bella entered the cafeteria and was instantly told grab something to help clean. After giving the soldier an unamused look (behind his back, of course.) she proceeded to limp to the middle of the room to grab onto a rag and bucket -
And there he was.
Bella instantly felt her stomach drop at the sight of him. Not because she was injured and she knew he was going to be quite angry at her, but because he was injured. His arm in a sling.
Panic took over.
"Oh my god!" she cried, carrying her things over so she could at least clean the floor ... close to where he was. She was afraid to touch him, what with all the soldiers suddenly appearing (so many!), so she simply ... speed limped to his side and proceeded to unceremoniously drop to his feet, making it look like she was very interested in cleaning the ground next to him.
However, the action caused her arms to tighten up in agony. Bella continued "scrubbing" a few seconds later. "What happened to you? Are you okay?"
Never mind the fact that she had her own jumble of wounds to worry about. At least her ankle, head, and arms were covered by her clothing. She only wished she had something to cover her neck with.
no subject
"Bella," he sighed, that hollow feeling draining from him as he looked up from where his gaze had fallen to the floor - then immediately being filled with something else. Something that was a mixture of dread and rage. Bandages, covering his Bella's neck, creating uneven lines under the crisp blue and black lines of her new uniform... her hands, the ones gripping the rag and pushing it against the floor.
He had been so ready to greet her with an awkward grin, ready to bear the brunt of her anger - her rightful, justified anger. But it was okay, because he was the one hurt, not her. He should have known better. He was a terrible guardian, and an even worse fiancé. Of course she was hurt. His face shut down, going pale. Edward nearly collapsed onto the floor across from her, hitting his knees hard on the wet tile, lifting his good arm to hover gently near her shoulder. "I'm fine, I'm fine! Stop that! You're hurt!" His brows knit together on his forehead, the overwhelming concern bleeding through. Who had hurt his Bella?
- don't tell him she had lied. She wasn't... she wouldn't do that to him, right?
That hovering hand finally ventured closer, his index finger just touching her jaw. "God, Bella, what did you do? Who did this to you?"
no subject
You are the monster, Isabella Swan. Not him.
"I don't want to get yelled at. Or. You know. Whatever it is soldiers do for punishment. I'm sure whatever it is, it's not pleasant." And ... there was the nervous talking. The words came out before she could even stop herself from talking. Who did this to you?
You did. Or, someone who looked like you did.
She didn't know where to start. His finger against her face instantly calmed her, and she couldn't help but slightly lean into his hand, eyes falling shut for a moment before opening. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for lying. But ... if I didn't, you wouldn't have let me go. I ... was told Venom had been released earlier yesterday, and ... and I knew you needed help getting ... something to eat, so I ... I went to the Chapel. And ... was ... attacked by some kind of ghost child that burnt my arms. But I couldn't feel it. I couldn't feel anything - it was like I ... something was wrong, and I don't know what happened."
Bella didn't want to look at him. Didn't want to see the anger, even if it was well deserved. "Be mad at me. I deserve it. I deserve every kind of hateful thought you could have. I'm sorry."
"But I'm not sorry for going," she continued. "Because ... I accomplished what I wanted to do. I got what I wanted. ... And I was helped. By ... by Venom. The nurses - they must have lied, because ... because he found me when I was ... attacked," she paused then, and she hung her head, knowing he would understand. "I ... I was attacked. By something. Pretending to be you. And I was helpless."
no subject
After that, he stayed silent. Bella told him much more than he honestly expected her to. Not that it was her fault - his reactions were more than enough reason to keep quiet - but he had become accustomed to all of the misspoken and lost words between them. Maybe when he had the perspective to look back on this moment, he would be able to appreciate that their promise to be more honest with each other was actually being fulfilled.
If only he could read her mind, the words wouldn't have to be so inadequate.
The Chapel. Venom. The burns - the bandages on her arms. And something that looked like him... something like the thing that wasn't Zato.
The vampire closed his eyes, clenching his teeth hard enough that he swore he could feel them cracking. He could take this. As much as he knew that completely slaughtering a soldier and turning them into a corpse more torn apart than that creature from last night would not help him - and, more likely, would end up with him full of bullet holes - he could imagine it. The satisfying crack of a skull. The bones fragmenting under his finger tips. Warm, thick blood oozing onto the cold white tiles of the institute, leaving a brown residue.
If she hadn't said that, he might have shouted. He might have asked why she did such a stupid, stupid thing. But those demands made him quiet as he mulled over his words before speaking them. "You don't deserve anything like that," he said, his eyes still closed, his tone completely neutral and cold. Breathe in. Breathe out. She was still Bella, still warm and tinted with the scent of strawberries, only mixed with blood this time. "Why would you do that, Bella? I went hunting for a reason."
He opened his eyes, bending his head down so it was on par with her own. "I'm so sorry. For... everything."
no subject
She let out a small laugh then, shaking her head as she continued. "And all I could think of was you. How much it must be killing you to be around me when you're like that. And I couldn't stand it. I couldn't ... I don't. ... I never want to hurt you like that. Even if you say I don't, I'll always just think of him, and how horrified he looked. So that's why I did what I did."
Bella sighed after the whole exchange of words, feeling her arms grow slightly weak, but she refused to relent. The pain would keep her mind off of his sadness.
However, his last words instantly caused her to freeze, turning to look at him with wide eyes. "No. No, no, no, no no. Edward, don't you dare take the blame for this. This is not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for. I chose this. I am taking the blame for it, even though there is nothing to blame for. It happened, and nothing would have changed that. Just like how you were hurt. Should I take the blame for that? Because if you feel guilty over my wounds, then I feel guilty over yours. Simple as that."
Bella, unable to help herself anymore, ever so gently touched his knee with her hand, albeit made it look like she was still trying to scrub at the floor. "You can't protect me from everything, no matter how much you wish you could. I'm sorry to cause you so much pain all of the time."
no subject
Whatever his reason had been before, it was not because of this. Edward had never imagined that she would think of Stefan's reaction and apply it to him.
"There's a difference, Bella, and I'm not just saying that." He slid from his knees, planting himself firmly on the floor and dropping his hand from her face. He was too afraid of what the closely watching eyes would think, too convinced they would be well aware of his weakness. "That was me, yes. I reacted the same way to you when I first met you. But I have time on my side, and even if I'm hungry, you don't affect me that badly."
"You don't seem to see," he continued, gently pushing the hand off of his knee, "that it is my fault. You realize the fact that you did it for me makes me responsible, correct? I wasn't going out and killing animals for you."
God, was he the only one who saw how self-destructive they were? This cycle would never end. He was aware of how they both worked, how they both moved around each other... and it would never end.
"I don't mind the pain, you know. It's just a reminder that you're here... with me."
no subject
He said he didn't mind the pain, but who wanted to live their life every day being tortured by something they could very easily leave? Bella couldn't imagine going every day feeling as if she were breathing in fire and smoke, scorching her throat. How strong he was, to have been doing it for months and months. And yet, she still thought on the fact she was hurting him period. Her shadow had been correct; all she did was cause him pain.
"If you're going to say that, then I'm going to take credit for all of your past injuries, too," Bella told Edward, feeling her heart lurch as he moved her hand away. Was he that angry at her? "For when you were burned. For your family being targeted by the Volturi. For James and Victoria disrupting your happiness. For hurting you on a daily basis because of my selfishness."
But she wouldn't change that. Never.
Her eyes prickled with unshed tears as she looked down at her hand - the ring was gone. Again. Lovely.
Bella moved carefully, not wanting to attract the attention of a soldier, standing up so she could move to the side of Edward now, limping those few feet away. "Sit back down or they'll really tear us apart. For good this time, I think. They ... don't look like they'll be messed with. Especially with these stupid outfits and this ... horrible hat," she let out a choked laugh, trying to force herself not to cry from the mixture of emotions that were currently flooding her brain. Sadness. Anger. Worry. Fear. Nothing good amidst the waves.
no subject
Dammit. If there was one thing Bella was skilled at, it was always being able to turn his arguments against him. The worst part was that there was no disagreeing with what she was saying. Even if he tried, she would just shoot down every objection - he wondered briefly if she got that ability from her mother. She had to. Charlie may have been the chief of police, but Edward had seen him fumble in personal conversations more than once. Perhaps he was better skilled at it in a public setting, in dialogue that was not to his immediate family.
Though he nodded at her order, he didn't move from his spot on the floor, neatly crossing his legs under him. There wasn't much pain unless he shifted his upper torso, luckily - and there was a spare brush just within his reach, pushed off to the side beside a soapy bucket. He plucked the brush off the floor with his free arm, dipping it in the water and bringing it to the ground. He bent over it as if he were really working at the floor, but it was just so he could bend his head closer to Bella's. He had noted the ring was gone from her hands - her bandaged, small hands - but he didn't care. It probably wasn't even the real ring, and it meant nothing to him in comparison to the girl that wore it.
"Please don't cry." He watched her, his hand moving the brush back and forth against the tile. "I'm more than glad to share your misery with you, so the burden is not so heavy." He smiled; not close enough to reach his eyes, but it was a good attempt. "Besides, I think your hat is very cute."
no subject
It was funny. If she could read his thoughts, she would have rolled her eyes at his thoughts as well. She could turn all of his arguments against him. But no matter what she did, or no matter how she told him she wanted to do it, he still would take the blame for everything. Everything she did that was painful was wrong. Everything she did that was right (in her eyes) was wrong. Could she ever do anything right?
And ... Edward was still cleaning. Bella sighed, a deep, shuddered sigh, and shook her head. He always yelled at her for not doing what he asked. But he never did what she asked either. So.
Please don't cry. The words made her want to cry all the more, and she lifted one bandaged hand up to her eyes, poking at them in hopes of that making her want to stop crying. "I can't help it," she sniffled at him, shaking her head. "I'm just so fed up with this place. And these stupid rules and these stupid uniforms and the fact that I want to touch you so badly it's almost painful but I can't is just driving me absolutely insane.
"And it's a stupid hat," she said with a laugh, turning to him with teared eyes. "You're just biased. I could wear the most hideous thing in the world and you would think I look okay in it."
Bella continued to look at him, not being able to tear her gaze away. At least they couldn't stop her from looking at him, right? "You never told me what happened to you. How you got that sling. And I want the truth. I told you everything."
no subject
He sighed as well, matching her own. "I miss when only high school teenagers were rolling their eyes about our public displays of affection. I really miss those days." Well, and the teachers. But since when did Edward ever care about what a human thought of him, especially one with only a moderately average level of intelligence?
Comparatively, however, high school hadn't been so bad.
"I wish I could kiss you right now. How about if I promise I will give you one tonight that is good enough to forget all of this, if only for a moment?" He chuckled underneath his breath, changing his area of scrubbing to the grout in between the tiles. "I admit that's a hefty promise, but I will attempt to fulfill it."
Also, that was his subtle way of asking her if she be with him tonight. Maybe it wasn't the best way, and despite her words... he still thought that, even if she didn't, she should have some sort of grudge against him. If she had gotten hurt doing something for him, and he seemed unappreciative -
Oh. Well. He had expected that question. It snapped him out of his thoughts.
"I'm not going to try lying to you anymore, Bella. I went hunting, like I told you... with Stefan. I used Venom's ring to teleport us to the forest so we would be away from the rest of the patients. Something found us. It was, ah." He looked down at the tiles, watching the slow movements of his brush. His voice was more quiet, so he leaned closer to her. "A squirrel. A very large, very angry, very carnivorous squirrel. And it fought back."
His eyes turned back up. "I got what I needed, as you can see." He imagined his eyes were very bright, almost yellow with the amount of blood he had consumed.
no subject
At the mention of high school, she let out a small laugh. "Oh, please. We weren't even bad. Just kissing and holding hands. It's not like you slammed me up against someone's locker on a daily basis and blocked them from getting their books. If we had, then I could see why they were so upset. We were practically Disney rated G back then."
And then he was talking about kissing her, and her eyes instantly dropped to his lips. Oh.
Where had the sadness, the anger, the fear she had only moments ago gone?
"Promise accepted," Bella lifted one of her hands towards Edward, holding out a bandaged pinky for him to shake. At least he still had one good arm. Not that she minded one side embraces, per say. She knew how much it would kill him if he weren't able to touch her, though. "Though. If I asked to meet you part way, would you be mad at me?"
She half expected him to threaten her at this rate, but she kept her mouth shut. After all, he should know better by now, that even if she had a limp, it wouldn't stop her from getting where she wanted to.
Bella listened intently as Edward spoke about his night, frowning when he spoke about something finding them, and then -
She tried her hardest not to let her lips quirk into a smile. That would be insulting, especially considering she had her ass whooped by a child last night. "A squirrel. Really? No judgment here, I promise. Let's just never tell anyone we were beaten up by squirrels and children and I think we'll get out of this okay."
When Edward looked up and she actually noticed his gold eyes, Bella's smile only grew. "Yes, I can see that," but she paused, however, and looked down at the floor. "But regardless of what color your eyes are, you are Edward to me. Forever."
no subject
He extended the pinky of his free arm, very gently curling it around hers and lifting their hands up and down once. "I imagine you think I'm going to say yes. Actually, that's true. I will be mad. But I have regretfully accepted that you are never going to listen to my voice of reason, and I have no way of stopping you outside the fact that you limp and I do not. Just... please, please be careful."
That was it. That was him, accepting defeat. He couldn't keep fighting her all the time, not when it wasn't doing any good to either of them except stressing them both out. The only thing on his side was his speed; her stubbornness was his mortal enemy, and he would not be able to defeat it about this.
"Tonight will be better, I promise. We can stay in... we can go wherever you want. As long as we're together, I don't care what happens." Stefan had already become what Edward considered a good, trustworthy friend, but Bella needed him more, and he needed her a lot more. "I can tell that, despite your lie, you are judging me. I am relatively okay with this. It was only a squirrel the size of a cougar. I think we can agree never to speak about either again, however."
Besides, Edward wasn't about murdering children if... this thing was still alive. He wasn't sure how a child had burned her arms, but no one touched his Bella. He couldn't imagine she meant a literal child. Maybe it was like the not-Zato, the not-him, that simply looked like one.
Which brought him to the thought of something attempting to look like him to hurt her -
"It's better this way," he cocked his head to watch her expression. "I feel like less of a murderer."
no subject
At the pinkie shake, she smiled all the more, and released his to go back to scrubbing. "Well. Can't blame a girl for asking. Maybe one of these days I'll let you come to my room first, since I suppose I owe you one. Maybe. But don't quote me on that, since I might change my mind." He knew how paranoid she was. And she knew how paranoid he was. It was endless.
But Edward was still speaking, and she looked at him with a smile. "Was that night apart as horrible for you as it was for me? Because it ... gets pretty terrible when you're not by my side."
She had other friends, of course. Other people she cared dearly for. But ... Edward was different. Wasn't that understandable?
"No, I'm not," she said with a laugh, reaching out with a shaky hand to poke him gently on the cheek. "Really. So you were attacked by a cougar squirrel. Big deal. Can't say that it's the strangest thing that's happened to you, right?"
But ... then he was talking about being a murderer, and instantly Bella's face dropped, and she looked at him with side eyes. "Don't make me say it, Edward. Because I will fight you to the death for it," a pause. "But. I guess if you're a murderer, than so am I. Or, will be. Misery loves company."
no subject
Right, he'd gotten over that. He had gotten over the fact that nearly every tragic thing that had occurred in his life - his parents dying, his own death, nearly a century of soulless solitude - was just someone's idea of entertainment. But that was if he bought into the idea that everything was of the same world. It wasn't. He knew that now. It wasn't just the fact that he had been to Venom's home, or some version of it. It was that he had seen the recognition there, the memories of his home that Edward had not seen before those moments. The people, the things he'd seen -
He laughed at her finger in his cheek, but he did lift his head to look around. No sign of his assassin compatriot...
God, what did he owe Venom now? This was beyond saving him from starvation. It wasn't even the first time he had saved Bella. There was no way to ever repay this sort of debt.
"You're not going to be a murderer," he stated flatly, his lips still curled up softly as he turned back to her. "I will never allow it. You're too kind to try, I think." Which was true. She wouldn't be the newborn he had been. He didn't even want to think of what sort she would actually be. "Last night was horrible, yes. I like hunting, but not when it results in... this. Stefan was nice company, though." That thought actually turned his gaze suspicious, but not for the reason she might think. "You lied to me about going out with someone last night, didn't you? You planned it all out when we were writing to each other."
He'd had his suspicions, but it was safer to have them confirmed.
no subject
Part of her wanted to, though. Wanted to remain that pristine image he clearly had of her in his head.
At the topic of her lie, Bella bit her lip, turned her gaze back towards the floor even as he continued to glare ready to throw daggers in her direction.
She didn't want to lie. They weren't lying to each other anymore, right?
"Yes," she finally said after a few minutes of preparing herself for the silent wrath that would eventually follow, whether it be now ... or when they were allowed to be alone once the lights shut off. "I knew you needed to go out last night, and if I had said I was going out alone, you would have been beside yourself. I wasn't going to stop you from feeding yourself," her gaze then turned away, so he couldn't look at her face - for the moment, anyway. "Considering how much hunger hurts."
"And I wasn't going to stay alone in my room," she continued, finally turning back to look at Edward. "Because knowing my luck, something would have found me there, and I'd have been cornered. At least when I went out by myself I was able to make a run for it."
Never mind the fact that she couldn't feel any of the pain from what had happened to her last night, but she was sure he would ask about that sooner or later. If he remembered.
"So," she finished, shrugging her shoulders slowly, wincing once the pain shot down her spine. "Yes. I lied to you. And I will accept whatever punishment you feel I deserve," she turned to him then, quirking an eyebrow. "And as I recall, you said you would kill whoever it was I was with if I got hurt. Should I start writing out my will now?"
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She was so selfless. It didn't make sense to him, how she could be human and fragile and still go out into a darkness she knew held monsters, monsters that were more than capable of consuming her than he was right now, just to get him something to drink, something so he wouldn't starve. He never asked for it, never hinted that he wanted her to make such a sacrifice, but she did it anyway. She had thought of him during a night when he had only been thinking of himself.
His eyes itched, trying to meet some unreachable expectation. He leaned back so he could drop the brush and lift his arm to his eyes and rub them without falling over. He wasn't actually sure how he would get off the floor, funny enough.
"I'm not going to punish you," he said, his voice not nearly as strong as it had been before. "I'm not your father, and I never want to be. I can't... I can't even be mad. It's so hard, Bella. I should be but I can't be, knowing you did all of that to help me. That you sit here and you seem so proud of it, that you are completely unapologetic about all of it... I understand why you lied. I wish I could thank you in a way that did not involve words."
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Right.
When he spoke, her face softened, and she reached out - fuck the guards - and gently touched his face, her palm resting against his cheek for a moment that was much too short for her tastes, before running her fingers down his jaw, index finger brushing over the lips that she so longed to kiss. "Even if you didn't say thank you, I still would have done it. I would have done it if you asked me to. I would have done it if you asked me not to. I love you. I love you so much it consumes me."
Her head shot to the side suddenly when she heard a soldier moving towards them, and for a moment, a look of determination crossed her face before she slumped her shoulders, looking defeated. "And if you so want to," she told him quickly, "You can show me your thanks tonight. I mean, if you're up to it."
The soldier was behind them now, glaring down at her. "Say goodbye to your ... friend, Irving," the soldier said her in a stern voice, and Bella forced herself to stand on shaky legs. She didn't want to say goodbye.
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Edward turned his head with her, watching her get up unsteadily, his only attempt at helping her to be his arm lifting with her just in case she lost her balance. He concentrated on her face, if only so his lips didn't curl back over his teeth in response to the soldier's interference. He would remember what the man looked like, in case there was a chance they ever met again in a dark hallway.
"I will, Bella," he said conspiratorially, intentionally waiting until the soldier had turned around to lead her away. Right before she moved away, he mouthed the words I love you back to her.