"There is not room for Death

Nor atom that his might could render void

Since thou art Being and Breath

And what thou art may never be destroyed."

Emily Brontë, No Coward Soul Is Mine

Third Person POV

It began to rain lightly outside, the sun's rays dulled by the grey stormy clouds. Dr. Alvaro Gonzalez was standing in front of the window in his office, his hands clasped behind his back. His best friend Carlisle was sitting at the desk, rummaging through piles of beige worn out folders.

Dr. Alvaro, feeling strangely unsettled and disturbed after the way the interview ended, cleared his throat and broke the silence. "Adonica Messiao is a very peculiar child."

Carlisle glanced at him, observing his friend's tense expression. "She was nearly in tears when we got back." Carlisle nodded in agreement, frowning when he came across a folder labeled 'Spain, 2002'. "She was trembling as if she'd just seen a ghost."

"Yes, I saw her face; she looked whiter than a sheet!" Dr. Alvaro nodded, deep in thought.

"Mrs. Messiao presented me with tapes of Adonica's previous interviews," Carlisle handed Alvaro the worn out beige folder, "Alvaro, Adonica has been interviewed and psychologically profiled every year since she was six years old."

Dr. Alvaro's dark eyes widened. "But six years is so young, Carlisle!" Dr. Alvaro exclaimed in disbelief, gawking as he skimmed through the photographs of a six-year-old Adonica, doctor's notes, disturbing images drawn by red crayolas, old prescriptions for medications, and finally, Adonica's documented diagnosis.

"'Patient shows signs of apathy; socially withdrawn in school. Has no school friends; grades are average. Patient suffers from frequent panic attacks'," Dr. Alvaro read aloud. "'NOTE: Patient has physical injuries; parent interview and profiling highly recommended.'" Dr. Alvaro tossed the beige folder back on the desk with an incredulous scoff.

Carlisle picked it up and examined the photographs of Adonica.

Six year old Adonica was staring at the camera, her green eyes wide and a half-smile on her lips while she sat on her mother's leg. Mrs. Messiao looked younger, her hair a vibrant red instead of graying like it was now; she had a blond, blue-eyed little boy in her arms and Carlisle knew that was Jarrod.

Carlisle narrowed his gold eyes, scratching at the dull shine behind Adonica's shoulder.

"After Mr. Medina, Adonica's father, abandoned his family, Adonica's previous doctor diagnosed her with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. But, to be frank, I see no change in Adonica's behavior. She has only two friends (Seth has shared with me how quiet and shy Adonica is, even with him), she still has panic attacks, she had one when we left the office; Alvaro, besides the injuries caused by the shower glass, Adonica has bruises that could only have been caused by a terrible force." Carlisle swallowed the venom forming at his mouth in disgust when he saw the photograph of the ragged scratches on six-year-old Adonica's small wrist.

No matter the amount of centuries lived, no matter the amount of gore he witnessed throughout his life, child abuse never ceased to disgust and anger Carlisle. "It's almost as if though she were beaten by a group of people." He finished.

Dr. Alvaro sniffed, repulsed, as he picked up one of Adonica's old drawings; for a six year old, her drawings weren't at all amateurish. The drawing was made in orange and red Crayola's, the drawing showed a man in an orange prison suit standing next to a stop sign with a broken broomstick shoved halfway into his stomach.

"You mean like a gang?" Dr. Alvaro inquired somewhat absent-mindedly as he picked up another drawing; the drawing showed one lone man sitting on a sidewalk with a bloody fork stuck in his temple. Dr. Alvaro shuddered.

"The only 'gang' in this area is those LaPush boys and we both know they are no threat to citizens or patients." Upon realizing his friend's attention was drawn to the disturbing art work, Carlisle spoke up once more, "The reason Mrs. Messiao wanted us to treat Adonica is because she found 'disturbing words' written in Adonica's diary."

But Dr. Alvaro was shaking his head as Carlisle spoke to him. "I just don't understand any of this, Carlisle. It's obvious that although Mrs. Messiao and Adonica aren't particularly close, Adonica and her brother were cared for; Mrs. Messiao and her husband never hurt them. Could it be Adonica is being abused by someone else? Is she harming herself? Or is she manifesting psychopathic traits?" Dr. Alvaro finished, waving the disturbing drawings for effect.

Carlisle nodded thoughtfully. "She has been having physical injuries since she was six; since the abusers weren't her parents, I don't believe Adonica's abuser would follow her from Europe to America. It would made more sense to assume that Adonica harms herself but she…"

"She's too good for that." Dr. Alvaro finished Carlisle's trailed off sentence. But Carlisle hesitated.

"We don't know her on a personal level, Alvaro, the medical term would b-"

"Yes, I know but screw the medical terms right now, Carlisle, okay? You saw her; you saw how she spoke, and how she smiled. Her personality does not fit the personality of someone that would harm themselves. In fact, I'd even say it's safe to assume she has low pain tolerance!"

Carlisle nodded at that, "That could be." He murmured, not wanting to form conclusions off of mere observations; they had yet to finish their interview.

Dr. Alvaro crossed his arms, leaning against the desk with a scowl on his face. "This entire case confuses me, Carlisle," he told the vampire, "the minute I laid eyes on her I could not even fathom how someone like her could be the victim of such a horrifying situation."

Dr. Alvaro sighed as he tiredly rubbed his face with his hand. "Did you get any notes down, Carlisle?" He sighed, plopping himself down on the chair next to his friend.

Carlisle silently slid the scrap of paper with the small scribble he had made during the interview to Dr. Alvaro; it wasn't even comprehensible.

Dr. Alvaro gave Carlisle a deadpanned look. "Carlisle, what the actual fuck."

Carlisle was usually a well-tempered and considerate man so Alvaro especially appreciated whenever Carlisle made a joke; but sometimes Alvaro wished that Carlisle wouldn't.

Carlisle chuckled but handed his friend a tape recorder; it was an old tape recorder of course. Forks Hospital wasn't advanced enough in its technology to provide their staff with proper equipment but the tape recorder worked well enough.

Dr. Alvaro's dark eyes brighten in excitement. "You recorded the conversation!"

The cafeteria smelled of hand sanitizer and French fries; tired families and nurses filled up most of the tables.

"No doubt they've stayed here all night." Sӧren murmured pointlessly to Seth as they stood in the lunch line, nodding towards a middle-aged man with his small daughter on his lap.

The man was trying to keep up with his daughter's cheerful chatter but was fighting to keep himself from nodding off to sleep.

Seth looked down at Sӧren; her pale face was thinner, her green eyes looked enormous and round over her bony cheekbones. He glanced down at her plate; she ate like a rabbit! Sӧren had a bowl of fruit, celery sticks, a veggie burger, and a small bag of baby carrots.

Seth never understood the concept of a veggie burger but it didn't look appetizing; in fact, none of the hospital food looked appetizing but the turkey sandwiches weren't so bad.

"He looks like he needs some rest." Seth nodded but gave her a pointed look. Sӧren insisted on never missing a day of working in Interior Design but spent nearly every night in the hospital waiting room and visiting Donnie whenever she could.

Seth was nervous, hoping Donnie's interview with Dr. Gonzalez and Dr. Cullen would go alright; he didn't know what to expect. Seth knew Sören was nervous as well although she wouldn't show it.

Sӧren scowled up at him before giving his plate a scathing look. "You should add more vegetables to your plate!" She chastised.

Leah found Sӧren's motherly comments annoying but it amused Seth; in fact, Sӧren's protective and caring nature reminded him of Emily except Sӧren was more fashionable. Sӧren, trading her usual attire of long and flowery skirts for jeans and a long-sleeved tee, still managed to look elegant and graceful, even with bags under her eyes.

"I guess you're right!" Seth chuckled.

"How you haven't gained weight from all that food, I'll never know!" Sӧren shook her head in amazement as they seated themselves at a table near the big window.

It was grey and cloudy outside but Sӧren still glanced out the window, hoping the sun would shine today; the sun always helped make her feel better.

But she scowled. "I moved here in hopes of getting a bit more sunshine and happiness but instead I get this." She pointed out the window, watching the raindrops trail down the glass in disgust. Seth nodded in understanding, his mouth full but shrugged.

"The grey and stormy clouds make the sun seem all the more beautiful, really."

Sӧren scowled at his response; his cheerfulness and optimism really threw her off. She didn't understand how someone so optimistic and friendly could be attracted to someone so shy and depressed like Adonica but she didn't question it: Sören hoped that Seth would help make Adonica happy.

She couldn't remember a single moment in which Adonica was happy and remained happy; Adonica had always had panic attacks and emotional outbursts of tears since she was only six years old which confused and frightened Sören.

Sören eyed the enormous boy in front of her enviously as he shoveled food into his mouth; now that she was middle-aged, it was harder for her to appear healthy. She had grey hairs beginning to grow, wrinkles beginning to form at her eyes and lips; her skin would begin to sag soon. Although her metabolism was fast, Sören hated feeling unhealthy and weak.

Seth's plate was filled with turkey sandwiches, bacon, four bowls of fruit, yellow mush that Sören assumed were eggs, and an entire separate plate of toast.

But instead of scolding Seth for his unhealthy diet choices, Sören decided to ask about Donnie.

Sӧren knew (way before she and Fernando dated) that, if she ever had a daughter, they would never be close; Sӧren herself didn't have a good relationship with her overbearing mother so Sӧren raised herself, depending and trusting no one but herself. It all changed when she met Fernando, though; Fernando taught her the importance of family relationships and taught her, through love and patience, how to be a better parent and person.

Sӧren knew Donnie kept things from her but at least Sӧren could interrogate Seth to see what he knew and she wasn't going to let this opportunity pass.

"So how did you and Donnie meet?" Sӧren asked trying to sound nonchalant as she warily eyed the veins on Seth's enormous muscles bulge with each movement he made.

She never would've guessed Donnie found the whole steroid-freak-look appealing but Seth was attractive despite the intimidating appearance. Seth was very sweet and optimistic but, although Sören still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that someone like him was dating someone like her daughter, she was grateful Donnie had someone like him in her life.

"In school!" Seth grinned, his mouth full. "Our friend Wade introduced us to each other." He added after swallowing down the slices of bacon.

Sӧren nodded, but munched on the celery sticks thoughtfully. "And you're okay with…?" She didn't finish her sentence, gesturing instead to their surroundings.

Seth's happy grin was wiped off his face, a sorrowful and worried expression replacing it instead. His happy grin was so cute it made Sӧren sad to see such a sad expression on his face.

"I worry so much for her." Seth confessed.

Seth knew that imprinting on Donnie meant that she was his soulmate; but despite the natural pull he felt, he knew their love hadn't developed to its fullest. He hoped with all his heart that, despite everything, Donnie would be able to pull through.

The pack had a theory that werewolves imprinted only on the humans strong enough to help carry on the Quileute genes so he knew Donnie had strength in her. And if she wasn't brave or strong enough, he would be her rock; Seth would be anything she wanted him to be.

"She seems… uncertain on what to do with me." He chuckled humorlessly Sӧren let out a laugh.

"Donnie has always been very shy," She chuckled with a sorrowful look on her face. "I had hoped you would help her but I see that she has broken away from her comfort zone. She has Eliza, Decimus, and you in her life now."

Seth couldn't help but feel anxious; he had shared his secret with Donnie but he had been patiently waiting for her to be honest with him. He wanted her to be okay, he wanted Donnie to fall in love with him, and he wanted to fall in love with her. He was willing to wait but he wanted to help Donnie get better in any way he could; he knew he wouldn't be able to continue living like he lived before, Donnie was a part of him now.

"I'll wait for her."

Sӧren looked at him in shock but felt herself let out a small breath of relief, as if she had been waiting for him to say that all along.

"I really like your daughter," Seth continued, "And I'm willing to wait any amount of time for her; I want her to always be safe."

Seth was a bit uncomfortable to find that Sӧren's green eyes were now filled with tears; her eyes reminded Seth a lot of Donnie so seeing such pain in those green orbs made him especially miserable.

"I just-" Sӧren began shakily, but choked on the forming lump in her throat.

Seth gazed at her with wide eyes but his facial expression was pained, as if he already knew what Sӧren was going to say.

"Life has just… not been kind, Seth." Sӧren choked out, placing her slim pale hand on her chest in attempts to keep her tears at bay, "I never knew – and still don't know- what's going on with my baby!"

Seth felt a bit guilty upon hearing this. Although he felt constant anguish and anxiety in hopes that Donnie would turn out alright, he had his pack brothers but Sӧren had no one now.

Sӧren lowered her head, sniffling but spoke again, "I loved my son; I love my daughter, and I've never in my life laid a hand on either of them. It breaks my heart to see my baby suffer like this. All my life I've been afraid, afraid of disappointing my mother; afraid of letting my daughter down; afraid of what would happen to her next… you know?" Sӧren sniffled some more, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, grasping Seth's much larger hand with her free one.

"But I feel some peace in my heart now, Seth, because now you're here for her. I'm glad I'm not the only one left in this world that cares for Adonica."