318Beta'd by Auntypanda
They're all finally under one roof.
R
The cookies were yummy.
Ms. Esme made them with chocolate chips and even let her clean the bowl while they waited for them to bake. She's nice. Her eyes are gentle like Momma's, but a little bit sad too. That didn't make sense to her though; Momma was sad because she was all alone. Ms. Esme had Mr. Carlisle, so she had no reason to be sad.
But maybe that wouldn't be the case with her momma for long. Mr. Edward—Daddy—was back, and he already promised that he wasn't leaving again.
Daddy.
Tony called him bad words and said they didn't need him, but she could tell that Momma missed
him. She'd get sad whenever she asked about him and where he was. She knew she shouldn't ask it, but sometimes she couldn't help it. She had so many questions, especially on Father's Day: what his favorite color was, what he did for a living, what he looked like, most of all, where he'd been. Tony used to say he hoped he was burning in hell if there was a hell, but that was how Tony was with people he didn't like. That made her wonder though: how can you not like someone you never met?
He seemed nice enough. Kinda weird, and a bit sad like Momma, but nothing bad. He even gave her back Bradley when she lost him. Bradley liked him, he thought he was nice and was 'specially happy he brought him back to her. She was curious about whether he would join them for tea. That way she could finally ask him all the questions she wanted to ask.
First things first, though: she had to find a tea set. Her set was at home in her room, and she didn't know how long they were going to be at his house.
Right now, she's in the kitchen, sitting in her seat with Bradley on the table, feet dangling off the chair. Beside Bradley is a plate full of cookies, waiting to be eaten. At the sink, Ms. Esme is washing the dishes, humming a pretty song under her breath. She wants to ask her if she has any tea sets, but she's still not quite comfortable talking aloud yet, and Momma isn't here for her to give her thoughts too—Ms. Alice took her upstairs.
Will she get in trouble if she leaves her seat? Ms. Esme never said she couldn't leave. She hops off her seat and walks to the kitchen entrance. She turns around one last time—Ms. Esme is still washing the dishes—before scurrying away into the enormous living room.
It's a wide-open space, with an L-shaped cream-colored couch and matching armchairs surrounding the biggest tv she's ever seen, bigger than all the walls in her room. On the walls are more pictures of Ms. Esme's family, this time though they're all wearing clothes from today, not from a long time ago. Far off in the corner is a black, shiny piano-the kind you see in concerts on the stage. She walks over to it eagerly.
She places Bradley on top of the piano, near the middle. The cover is down, but with all her might she lifts it up and pushes it back so she can see the white and black keys inside. This piano is different than the one from Tony's memory—the one from his mind was smaller, made of light brown wood, and sat against the wall like a dresser. They didn't have a piano at Nahuel's house in the forest. Lots of mismatched furniture that was banged up and old, but she liked that they all came from somewhere else. They were like them: mismatched pieces brought together.
Tony didn't like the piano. At least, not by the time they were living in Nahuel's house. He liked the guitar more. Miri would always beg him to play while she sang. It was fun. Reni and her stuffed animals would be the audience and then they would perform. Sometimes Momma and Nahuel and Huilen would come listen, and everything would be alright. Nahuel wouldn't be so angry all the time, Huilen would relax, and Momma would smile. But it wouldn't last. Things would go back to normal soon after, and Miri and Tony would go off on their own into the forest or the city with Nahuel, getting into all sorts of fun mischief. That just left her and Momma most days. They were fun, but she knew Momma was still sad deep down and that made her sad. So, she would leave Momma alone to play with Bradley and her other toys, hoping for when she would feel better.
"Hello."
Startled, she turns around in the seat. The blonde lady is there, but she's neither happy nor angry. In fact, she looks…nervous. Like how new kids at school look when they're made to stand in front of everyone. She always liked meeting new kids-. it reminded her of when she was a new kid herself and how the other kids, the ones she now called her friends, had been kind to her. She liked returning the favor. She knew how scary it was being new.
Still though…she wasn't sure what to make of the blonde lady. She knew she could be mean: with the way she was glaring at Momma and her in the hallway. Tony would call her a bad name and tell her to go away with another bad word, but she wasn't like Tony—she wasn't allowed to say bad words (though, honestly, neither was Tony) and she didn't have the bravery to disobey like Tony.
"Do you know how to play?" she asks softly, taking a few steps closer. She stops as she sees her climb down from the seat in response. On her tippy toes, she swipes Bradley off from the piano and clutches him tightly, watching the blonde lady with wide eyes. Sadness tugs the blonde lady's mouth down into a frown.
"I'm sorry…about earlier today…if I scared you," she says again, softly. "I didn't know the whole story. I thought we were all in danger…"
Because of me, she finishes, in her head. Somehow, she knows it's because of her. It wasn't just the blonde lady staring at her in the hallway, it was the others too. She didn't like how they looked at her, like she was…she was…
A freak.
Just the thought makes her eyes fill with tears.
"No, please don't cry!" the blonde lady says, eyes widening in horror. She takes a step forward but stops herself when she sees her take a step back.
"Rosalie, what's going on?" Ms. Esme asks behind Reni, from the kitchen doorway.
Not taking her eyes off her, the blonde lady replies, "I think I upset her."
Swiftly, Ms. Esme goes to Reni's side and kneels, so they're at eye level. She brushes a stray strand of curly hair away from her face.
"It's alright, sweetie. That's just Rosalie, my eldest daughter. She won't hurt you…Why don't we find some paper and colored pencils?"
She rubs her eyes free of tears, nodding, before taking Ms. Esme's hand and allowing her to guide her towards the staircase. She looks back around to the blonde lady-Rosalie- one last time. She's still sad, staring at the floor. An uncomfortable feeling twists in her stomach, but she ignores it and focuses instead on the steps, and then the pictures in the hallway.
"Edward was quite the photographer during the 1940's and 50's," Ms. Esme says as they walk. She looks up at her in wonder and she smiles down at her, continuing, "A passing fancy, he claimed, but I do wish he kept up with it, like how he has with the piano."
The piano! So, it was Daddy's! she thinks excitedly, forgetting to keep her thoughts to herself. Ms. Esme freezes in the hallway, staring down at her in bewilderment. Reni lets go of her hand and stares at the floor in apprehension.
"W-was that you?' she asks Reni in amazement. Shyly, she looks up at her, hands and Bradley behind her back. She feels her face turn red. She nods.
A small, understanding smile graces Ms. Esme's lips. She offers her hand again, and Reni takes it, finding herself smiling back. They resume their walk.
"…Edward is talented, too."
I know, she says. He reads other people's minds. Other people can't read his. Not like how it is with me.
"Have you always been able to?"
Reni thinks for a moment. Yes, she finally thinks after a while. For as long as I could remember. Except…She closes off her connection to her mind, remembering what Tony said about loose lips.
"Reni?"
Chewing her bottom lip, she tentatively opens her mind up a sliver.
Not supposed to share. Loose lips sink ships.
"Ahh, I see. Well, we can't have that, can we?"
Reni shakes her head "no."
"…It's funny. Edward could never read your mother's mind when she was human."
Reni gives her a quizzical look.
"It confused him to no end. But I think not knowing only made getting to know her more precious to him. For once, he could be like everyone else when he was with her.
What do you mean?
"Edward…has always been the odd one out among us, because of his gift. Since he can read everyone's mind, there are no secrets with him.
Well, that's no fun, she remarks. She couldn't fathom not being able to have her own secrets, or never being able to be surprised.
"No, I suppose it isn't. It had taken its toll by the time he met your mother. At heart, Edward is a very private man."
How long has he...she pauses in her thoughts, trying to find the best way to ask. How old is he?
"109."
"Huh."
Older than Momma, but younger than Nahuel. That's interesting. His face materializes in her mind, same hard stare he always had. For as long as she could remember it made her uneasy. Tony was angry, too, but she knew Tony. He could make her laugh and would play with her. Nahuel might as well have been a statue. He was always so serious and too busy to play. Except when he was around Momma. Then he would lighten up a bit. Sometimes even smile.
That smile would fade whenever she or Tony entered the room though. She never understood what it was about them that he didn't like, so she always made sure to stay away or be quiet when in his presence. Tony didn't like him...but he still listened to him when he bossed him around. It was the strangest thing. He...was afraid of him...but also wanted him to like him. He listened to him, he...
"I think you're looking for the word 'respected.'"
Reni looks up. Ms. Esme is looking down at her with a strange look on her face. Embarrassed, Reni looks away again.
"This Nahuel...did he treat you and Tony and your mother well?"
She thinks for a bit, not sure what she means. He was scary, especially when he was angry, but he always made sure everyone was fed and had clothes and other things they needed. He might not have played with her, but Tony and Miri always wanted to go with him into the city. And Momma wasn't as sad when he was around. The only time he was especially scary was when Momma was having her blue days. But by then, he would just leave the house and hunt for a bit.
Yes, she finally answers.
Ms. Esme looks relieved at hearing that. She gives Reni hand a small squeeze as they start to approach an open door. Reni gasps as they enter.
The room is huge, big enough maybe to even hold their whole apartment in, with wall-to ceiling shelves, drawers, and square cubbies filled with rolls of different colored paper. In the center of the room is a cute round wooden table and a curvy, purple thing that's a cross between a cushiony bench and sofa. In the far-right corner, a paint-stand and canvas sit in the middle of a thick paint-stained cloth on the floor. Paint containers with different shades of blues, greens, reds, and purples are on a table nearby. In the far-left corner is another canvas stand with another nearby table, but this one instead has a tray full of what looks like chalk. They're softer in color and look like they've been used a lot. Between the two canvases is a large, slanted desk covered with papers.
"This is my studio. I always loved to create things, even as a little girl."
Reni takes a few steps forward, close enough to the couch to feel the soft fabric of the back rest. The shade of purple makes her think of the robes royal people wore in one of Tony's history books. And blueberry pie. Excited, she starts to make her way towards one of the cubby holes. A bubblegum pink roll of paper has caught her eye, but before she makes it a loud crash booms from downstairs, followed by shouts.
She looks at Ms. Esme with wide eyes before flinching as another crash echoes around them. Ms. Esme motions for her to come to her, and she quickly speeds over and allows her to pick her up. Hugging her tightly, Ms. Esme holds her as she runs at vampire speed down the hallways until they are at the top of the staircase. Before she can get a good look at below, Ms. Esme gasps and backs away. Reni gets a quick glimpse of the chaos going on in the living room. Shock hits her little heart, and she squirms out of Ms. Esme's arms and runs back down the hall and down the stairs as fast as she can, ignoring Ms. Esme's panicked calls.
The cream-colored couches and armchairs lay on their sides, tossed like broken toys. The large tv she admired earlier lays shattered on the ground to her right. The other vampires and Edward surround him, trying to get to him but also staying away. He's not himself, he stands like how he stands when he's attacking a bear or lion-slightly crouched and ready to pounce- and his eyes are blood red and crazy. Snarls leave his bared mouth as he looks from vampire to vampire. His arms hang limply at his sides, coated with—is that blood?
"T-Tony?"
Everyone looks at her, startled. A strangled shout escapes Edward's throat before he zips over and quickly pushes her behind him, the others following suit, cocooning her away from Tony. From the cracks between the bodies, she meets Tony's red, crazed eyes. The feral hate in them softens.
He recognizes me, she thinks to herself. But before she can say her thought aloud, the vampire with the scars—Jasper—breaks away from the cocoon and tackles Tony to the ground.
"No!" she screams as Tony's body collides with the tile, cracking it, his head whipping from side to side in panic and rage, feral snarls filling the air. She slips through the opening Jasper's absence creates and is about to make it to them when arms wrap around her from behind and pull her back, into the kitchen. She starts to screech, thrashing her arms and legs, kicking and hitting anything and everything but it does no good.
"Sweetie, please, you have to calm down!" Alice says desperately. She only fights harder against her grip, until finally the small one's forearm shifts near Reni's mouth and she bites down, hard.
Alice shrieks in surprise and pain, dropping her. Reni scrambles to her feet and runs back into the living room. The other vampires are standing around Tony's now-motionless form while Jaspers kneels beside him, his hand on Tony's chest. Fear catches in her throat and escapes as a wail as she pushes past them. She starts to pummel Jasper with her fists, angry, terrified tears spilling from her eyes.
"Get away from him!" Her fists hit his chest and head. Hands behind her try to pull her away and vaguely, she can recognize the voice of her mother, but she ignores her. Scar-riddled hands gently take hers, and they might as well be holding them in a vice grip, stopping her from hitting him. She struggles and tries to pull out of his grip, but when she can't her anger turns to frustrated cries.
"I'm not hurting him," Jasper says softly, in between her cries and hiccups. "Just making it so he can rest."
"I thought you couldn't feel him," a voice behind her asks. Carlisle.
"Not before. But now..." Solemn gold eyes flick down to her brother. "Whatever this infection is must be affecting his ability to shield himself from me. I can feel him just as well as anyone else right now." He looks back up at her, sadness creeping in his eyes. Carefully, he lets her hands go. She sniffles, wiping her eyes with her fists. Now that she's stopped crying, she can feel the soft hands of her mother on her shoulders. She lets them guide her away from Tony until she's enveloped in her arms. Easily, Momma picks her up. Sniffling away the last of her snot, she turns in Momma's arms to watch everyone. Rosalie and the big man hover close to Carlisle and Edward, who are examining Tony, while Jasper and Alice have moved behind them to talk softly to each other.
Carlisle and Edward both look worried. They're talking to each other fast. Edward's hand is on Tony's forehead, like how Momma felt for Tony's temperature when he was hurt before. It's only now that she notices that Tony is breathing funny - fast and shallow. His heart is beating too fast, too. She feels like crying again. Is he hurt like before? His head looks fine, but his arms are covered in angry red wounds, the worst where his neck and shoulder meet. There, the skin is dark red and purple, like a bad bruise, except she can see the open flesh underneath. She nuzzles her momma's neck, burying her face in her hair, trying to push the image out of her head.
Carlisle and Edward seem to come to an agreement on something. Edward picks Tony up like he weighs nothing and starts to follow Carlisle down the hall. Behind them, Jasper quickly follows.
Where are they going? she asks Momma as the four disappear through a door at the base of the staircase.
"Carlisle is a doctor," Momma says. "He has his own little medical room in the basement. Everything they need to patch Tony up is down there."
"Like what?"
"Bandages, medicine, machines to see if his organs are okay. That sort of thing."
Reni stares uneasily at the door.
"Beware the Libishoman."
She looked up in confusion at Huilen. Beside her, Tony and Miri were playing a game of checkers. They had heard this story before, Tony from Nahuel, and Miri from both more times than she could count. Outside the rain poured, washing the forest clean. In the distance, thunder rumbled, and lightning lit up the ashy grey sky.
Finally, she was deemed old enough to know the ghost story that wasn't just a story.
"My parents warned Pire and I every harvest of the evil. The being that came when the nights were short and the days long. It came when you were alone. When you wouldn't be missed by the tribe. It counted on the solitary ones. Like Pire..."
She leaned back in her rocking chair, eyes far away.
"It was beautiful. Convincing. A liar. Appealing to one's vanity and desire. All you had to do was give it a child, and your wishes it would fulfill."
"The child would be a god," it promised. "And you, the mother of a god. A great honor. A great legacy. You would birth the beginning of a dynasty that would last a millennium."
"It would promise to take care of you. To heal you, so you wouldn't perish in childbirth, like so many before you."
She closed her eyes tight, pained.
"But it was a lie. It had the means to heal, but it was never intended for you. You would birth something...godlike. But not live to see it grown. No. All a lie. It said it was a healer. An angel. It was a healer, an angel. But not a good one. It was fallen. El diablo. Sanador Malvado."
"It wanted the child, not the mother. And once the child was born and the mother dead, it would come for him or her and spirit them away."
"What would happen to them?" she asked. Huilen looked at her soberly. She leaned down closer to her.
"It called itself a healer. A healer needs subjects to experiment on, to know that their methods work."
Wide-eyed, she grabs Bradley from beside her and hugs him close. She flinches as another roar of thunder rumbles though the sky. Huilen sits back in her chair, staring out the window.
"If you ever meet one, don't stick around. Run as fast as you can back to me, Nahuel, or your mother."
Sanador Malvado. Evil Doctor.
Panicked, she tries to get down, but her mother stops her, holding her tight. Staring into her eyes, she touches her cheek with her palm and repeats the memory in her mind. Eyes furrowed in distress; Momma shakes her head.
"No. Carlisle isn't that. He's not...not like Joham. He's a real doctor. The kind that helps people."
"But Huilen said-"
"Huilen's never met the Cullen's."
Reni opens her mouth to ask another question, but they are interrupted by the door to the basement opening. Edward sticks his head out.
"We need you," he says to Momma. Worried, Momma puts her down. She tilts Reni's chin up to look at her. "I'll be right back. Stay with Esme." Though she wants to join her, she nods. She watches her go through the door. A light touch on her shoulder reminds her of Esme's presence.
She tries to be brave.
T
He's drowning.
He has to be. Why else would his vision and hearing be fuzzy, details hopelessly blurred and muffled? Why else couldn't he seem to get a good breath in his lungs? Each inhale and exhale are agony, the air setting his chest on fire and exhausting him. Maybe he should stop breathing...after all, he didn't need to breathe...
But no, something tells him he can't do that. Something begs him not to do that. A creeping feeling in the back of his throat that makes his heart jump, and his extremities go numb.
If you stop breathing, you won't wake up, the beast whispers, for once, fear lacing its voice. He feels his eyelids open and close, though he can't see anything clearly. Just the bright white of the lights above. Two suns...Was it daytime? He tries to swallow but his throat is dry. Maybe he's not drowning...but what then? What else is there?
Burning, the beast says.
"We need to find some way to flush the bacteria out of his system," a distant voice says. "Give him something that will override the infection."
"I thought you had antibiotics?"
"We've tried. No effect."
"There's one thing we haven't tried," another voice says. He feels a low growl rumble in his chest. That voice. The scarred one. "You said before that the other hybrids—Nahuel's kin— exchanged venom when they were injured, and that the exchange assisted in the healing process."
"Only amongst each other. And they were all grown adults. Reni's only a child."
"I'm not talking about Reni."
A long pause. He tries to get up, but a firm hand on his chest keeps him lying down. Drowsiness hits him like a sack of bricks, but this time he fights it, clawing at the smooth metal underneath his fingertips.
Metal?
He blinks rapidly up at the twin lights, and for a moment the blurriness in his vision subsides. Several golden eyes stare down at him. He looks around, finally noticing that his chest is bare and he's lying on a hard smooth surface, like a slab or...
"What will happen if he gets us?"
It was an innocent question, after all. Nahuel had just told him about the Libishoman. Nahuel secures the rope to the trunk of the tree. Above them, the carcass of the jaguar swings slowly, its jaw open, frozen in a permanent snarl.
"...Do you know how medical students learn about the subjects they're supposed to take care of?"
Confused, he shakes his head "no". He squirms under Nahuel's intense gaze. Finally, Nahuel breaks eye contact with him and grabs the funnel and bucket by his side, positioning it directly underneath the jaguar. With a flick of his thumb nail, he slits the throat of the jungle cat open, and warm, dark red blood spurts out of its neck and pours into the funnel and bucket.
"They cut them open. Have them laid out on an operating table to be carved up like a Christmas ham."
"No way!" he exclaims, horrified.
He chuckles darkly. "See and get yourself caught by him then."
Sudden fear seizes his heart. Frantically, he tries to get up again, but more hands force him down onto the operating table. Despite the pain and the drowsiness hitting him in waves, he claws at the hands clutching him. Blearily, he tries to focus on the faces above him.
"He's burning up," the blond says on his right. "Beyond what can sustain viable life. You two need to decide now."
To his left, the bronze-haired one's grip on him tightens. Tony growls at him, struggling to shrug him off. Golden concern and worry meet his enraged, feverish red. The bronze-haired one looks away, his mouth pressed into a hard line. He looks up, beyond Tony's peripheral vision. Something in his face changes, and he nods to whoever he's looking at. At the same moment, soft, gentle hands stroke the hair on Tony's head. The upside-down sight of his mother's heart-shaped face greets him.
The air changes. He's still burning, but it's like someone has turned the dial on the speaker volume all the way down. Like time has stopped. The anger he feels melts away, tension leaving his muscles, and all he can focus on is her face, staring down at him in concern and fear. And love.
Even as razor-sharp teeth pierce the side of his neck.
Pain shoots through his arms, but he doesn't care as he claws the back of Bronze's shoulder and pulls him away from his neck before head-butting him. The resounding crack of his nose breaking mixes with the startled shouts as they try to steady him but he kicks himself backwards off of the operating table, knocking the contents of a side table to the floor with a tinkling shatter.
He falls against his mother, who catches him from behind by his arms as they both tumble to the ground.
He jumps to his feet, head whipping from left to right, trying to find an opening through which to run. They surround him, even Mom, who has joined their ranks.
Shakily, he backs away from them, into a corner. Medical instruments and trays litter the floor, the operating table knocked on its side and pushed against the adjacent wall. He blinks hard. He's still burning, vision feverish and lungs on fire with every breath he takes, but it's now joined with a peculiar burst of energy in his body and icy numbness radiating from his neck. Where he bit him.
"I told you, didn't I?" the beast says sardonically.
"Shut up," he mutters. Seconds pass, the only sound being the harried inhales and exhales of breath that enter and escape his nose.
"Who's he talking to?" the scarred one asks cautiously.
Bronze watches him carefully. He looks at the spot where the beast stands and then back at Tony.
"He's hallucinating."
The beast chuckles. Trembling, he tries to raise his less-damaged arm so he can cover the bite wound with his hand, but the adrenalin must be fading because a sudden jolt of pain from the action stops him. Behind them, the beast moves closer, out of the shadows at last. At this point, he doesn't have any energy to even feel surprised at the form it chooses to take. Maybe that was its form all along.
"Yes, Tony. Tell them who you're talking to," Nahuel says. "Look at you. I told you what would happen if you didn't practice. Now here you are—"
"Can you calm him?" Mom asks the scarred one desperately. "Like before?"
The scarred one shakes his head. "He's aware of it now, and actively fighting it."
"—Cornered."
"Tony," the blond says cautiously, hands raised in an attempt to show he means no harm. "We're not here to hurt you." He hisses at him in response.
"He's not there," Bronze says to him softly, getting his attention. Slowly he takes a step forward as Tony takes a step back. "He can't harm you anymore."
Nahuel scoffs. "Like he would know what has or hasn't harmed you."
"You did," he mumbles, before he can stop himself. The smirk on Nahuel's face is wiped off in an instant. Fear catches in his throat as he takes another step back.
"…I did," Bronze agrees, staring at him, agony in his eyes. "This is my fault. All my fault. I never should have left—"
"I never harmed you," Nahuel says, coldly. "I made you stronger."
"—you, your mother, and your sister to the mercy of that man."
"I made it so you would survive."
"Shut up—SHUT UP!" he screams. The floor shifts below him like tiles on a game board. He stumbles to the ground, eyes trying to follow the moving pieces. The icy numbness blooms in the center of his chest. Before he can ask what's happening, his eyeballs roll up into his head, rapid dizziness and bursts of light racing in his vision as a collision of fire and ice rages throughout his veins. He feels himself collapse to the ground.
More shouts and cries as he writhes on the floor. He feels cold hands trying to turn him this way and that as the spasms make him twist and his back arch. His heartbeats pound the walls of his chest. Bile burns the back of his throat. He has just enough sense to turn his head to the side before it retches out of his mouth in bitter foulness.
"—have to go through it," the blond grits, as he steadies him on his side. He dry heaves in response. "If the antibiotics are any indication, benzodiazepines won't have any effect."
"We don't even know if biting him will work."
"It has to," Mom says, her hand cupping his scalp, his body still shaking from the convulsions.
"It has to."
'Cause I'm about to break down, I'm searching for a way out
I'm a liar, I'm a cheater, I'm a non-believer
I'm a popular, popular monster
I break down, falling into love now with falling apart
I'm a popular, popular monster
Popular Monster, by Falling in Reverse