AN: So here it is. The first chapter of my highly anticipated (pfft) new story. Please, let me know what you think, if you're mildly intrigued or mildly sickened by it.

Shit, I've missed posting. I'm so excited to hear from y'all.

Enjoy!

Bella POV

I don't even know how long we've been here.

In this room, devoid of all remnants of the outside world, it has become impossible to tell. I'm lying on a stained, bare mattress, something that belongs by the side of a road in a bad neighbourhood, and yet, it's my home.

Our home.

He groans and shifts on his side of the mattress.

"Hey," I murmur. I've learned that keeping quiet is in my best interests. Actually, anything that garners their attention is a bad idea.

"Hey," he grunts back, rolling over to look at me. He smiles weakly, and I smile back.

They've been rougher with him than they have with me. His face is beardy, covered in cuts and bruises. His kneecap is a little swollen, and even though he puts on a brave face, I can see him fighting back a grimace as he walks over to the small bathroom. The room is absolutely disgusting, a grimy sink and seatless toilet.

They both work though, so I'm grateful.

He emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, and flops his tired, skinny body back down onto the mattress. I've watched him pale and wasten away during our time here, and I'm sure he's seen me doing the same. I try hard not to think about the constant ache of hunger that resonates throughout my body.

"How are you?" My question is careful. I know full well that he's going to be in bad shape. They decided to play with us last night, and he caught the worst of it. His bruises are fresh, and his face wet from washing off the fresh blood.

I also know what he's going to say before he even says it.

"I'm fine, Bella."

I almost laugh when the predictable words leave his mouth. He's not fine. Nothing about this situation is fine.

I had been here alone for a couple of days before they brought him. I was huddled in the corner furthest from the door on my mattress, shaking with fear when I heard the door open. I tucked my head into my knees, because I did not want to see who was coming in, or what they had in store for me.

A moment later, I heard yelling, and the sound of a struggle. I looked up to see the two men who had brought me here dragging a young man in as he valiantly struggled against them.

"Fuck you! Let me fucking go, you assholes!" he spat at them, trying to swing his legs out to kick at them as they dragged him.

"You've got company, princess," one of the men cooed at me, before they threw him to the ground and then slammed the door closed. The sound echoed through the small room with a crushing finality.

He was immediately on his feet, banging and pulling at the door frame. There was no knob on our side, or any windows. Getting out was an impossibility. He banged against it anyway, screaming obscenities and threats at our captors, who were paying no attention at all.

"There's no point," I muttered, using my voice for the first time since I'd stopped screaming two days prior. He turned around, seeming shocked that he wasn't alone. He appraised me in the dull light emitted by a naked bulb hanging from the ceiling, before he crossed the room and sat down beside me on the mattress as if we were old friends.

"I'm Edward."

"Bella."

We shook hands.

"I wish I could say it's nice to meet you, but it really fucking isn't."

I smiled weakly, feeling a little better because I wasn't alone anymore, and then a lot worse for thinking that way.

The door swings open and I flinch back instinctively. The door opening is rarely good. Thankfully, it only opens a little, and two water bottles are flung through, followed by a couple of granola bars. My eyes light up, because this only happens what feels like every two or three days. Not only are we about to eat, but time is passing. In a place like this, it has a tendency to feel like it isn't. Like I'm suspended in some nightmare that I'll never wake from.

Edward moves to stand, but I hold up my hand to stop him. Even in his state, he still has gentlemanly impulses. It's impressive. I get up, collect the food and water, and return to our mattress, our unlikely haven. We sit, facing each other ,while we plow through our crappy food like it's Thanksgiving dinner.

"You know," I muse while I chew, "I wish I'd met you before… everything. I think we could have been pretty good friends."

"What?" he asks, holding his hand to his chest in feigned distress, "you mean we're not friends now?"

"Well, of course we are. But it's a little… contrived, don't you think?" I smile teasingly and he smirks back.

"I guess you are kind of cool, especially in comparison to all the other fuckers I've come into contact with since I was brought here."

"I'd be more than a little bit pissed if you liked them more than me," I bristle and he laughs. The sound is throaty and ragged. It still makes me smile though.

We stay on the mattress until I can't sit still anymore. I pace around the small, dank room like a caged lion, desperate for the sun on my face, the smell of the ocean, a hug from my dad. I force myself not to cry. I've done more than my share of that in the time we've been here, and it didn't get me anywhere. Edward's never cried, not once.

"I wish I knew why we were here."

"Do you think that'd make it any better?" he questions. He's right. It probably wouldn't.

Suddenly, we hear a commotion from the next room. This hasn't happened before. I look over to Edward, and his eyes are fixed on the door.

"Bella," he calls, not looking at me.

"Edward, what's happening?"

"I don't know," he says evenly, "come here."

Without question I go to his side, and he pulls me down onto the mattress, inclining his body so that I'm behind him, and further away from the door. The commotion gets louder, we hear one, then several more gun shots. My heart is pounding in my chest, my breathing getting heavy as my panic spirals.

If there is one comforting thing about what we've been through here, it is the consistency of our captors. Yes they are brutal, but they are predictable. This new activity frightens me so much more than the scheduled horrors we've endured.

Edward's arms fan out slightly, creating something of a shield around me. I grip his forearms tightly, trying to stop myself from slipping into a full on panic attack.

"It's ok, Bella," he murmurs, but I don't believe him for a second.

Then it happens.

The door bursts open, bathing us in bright light. We both recoil from the harshness. The light is quickly interrupted by a silhouette of a large man, taking up most of the doorframe.

"Isabella?"

I know that voice. The figure starts moving towards us, taking slow steps. We must look like frightened animals. I feel like one.

"Oh my god," the man breathes and the figure starts moving towards us. I cower behind Edward and his arms extend further, responding to my fear.

"Back the fuck up," Edward growls. He'd been like this since we'd arrived, always trying to protect me, and often at his own expense. The man ignores him, moving closer still, until I can finally make out his face. What I see makes me gasp, and the tears immediately start falling.

"Oh, baby girl," he coos, his voice laced with relief and pity. Edward turns to meet my eyes, and I nod frantically at him, confirming that this is, in fact, my father. He drops his arms and my father crouches before me. I cower away without realising, and he looks hurt. I can't help it. I lean into Edward, and the mattress, my two refuges throughout this ordeal. Edward remains stoic, taking in everything around us with suspicious vigilance. He trusts no one.

I know the feeling.

Four paramedics file into the room with gurneys and then dart over to where a small circle of law enforcement officers has gathered around Edward and I.

"Are you ok?"

Are you fucking kidding me? We've been locked in a humid, dark, disgusting room for an unnamed period of time. We are anything but 'ok'. I say nothing, too angered by their question to respond to it.

"We're fine," Edward speaks for us. A slightly hysterical laugh bubbles up at his use of the word fine. After all the times he's said those words, they might actually be true now.

He looks at me with a knowing smirk.

"Shut up, Bella," he chides me playfully, and I cover my mouth with my hand to stifle my giggles. Everyone around us seems shocked by our banter. I'm not surprised they react like this, it's not like they could ever understand.

One of the paramedics leans in and extends a hand to me. I flinch away from it and Edward exhales heavily with unexpressed anger.

"Bella," my father says in a gentle but authoritative voice, "they need to help you up so we can get out of here."

I look at Edward, and his expression gives nothing away.

"Edward's parents are waiting for him to arrive at the hospital," Charlie continues, and Edward's face twitches at the mention of his family. With that, I am decided. I don't take the paramedic's hand, but I force myself into a standing position, then point to Edward.

"His leg… he's hurt," I tell them, and Edward scowls at me for outting him, although I can't understand why. A boy thing, I suspect. Two paramedics help him up while another guides me over to the gurney intended for me.

"I don't need this," I grumble, but they insist it's a safety precaution. Before I know it, I'm wrapped in a blanket and sitting in the back of the ambulance. The gurney feels nothing like my mattress. I miss it.

When we arrive at the hospital and I'm wheeled in, it occurs to me that I truly have no concept of how much time has passed. How long I've been free, how long I was in there, what day it is. How strange.

"What day is it?" I ask, to no one in particular. There is a woman standing beside me, taking my blood pressure. She answers.

"Thursday."

I stare at her blankly. That means nothing to me. Realisation lights her face and she tries again.

"Thursday, the 14th of May."

I take a minute to process that information. I fail. The words still have no meaning to me at all.

"Where's Edward?"

She seems surprised by my question, or perhaps my lack of response to the information she just gave me. I don't have the time or the patience to deal with her confusion right now.

"Where. Is. Edward?" I repeat. The only time we'd been separated in recent times was when bad things were happening. Actually, bad doesn't come close to covering it.

"Edward, the young man you were brought in with?"

I nod, trying to stifle my irritation and the burgeoning panic. I can't see him. Did they even bring him here? They wouldn't leave him, would they?

"Miss Swan, you need to calm down," she says in a calm professional voice, and I realise that my breathing is becoming erratic. "Edward is being checked out right now, just like you are. He's with his parents."

"But where?" Her answer does nothing to pacify me.

"He's in another room. He's perfectly safe and sound."

"I need to see him." I wouldn't believe a word she said until I proved it myself. The men would always laugh, take him away and tell me he'd be alright, and he'd return to me looking anything but. I don't know this woman, I don't know if she's lying.

"You can't see him yet, Miss. I need to get your vitals and check your wounds. They might be infected."

"I don't care," I tell her, and then jump off the bed.

"Miss Swan, please take a seat."

"No. Edward?" I call. No response. I try again, louder this time, still nothing. I'm panicking now. This place is big, so much bigger than what I'm used to, and he could be anywhere. He could be hurt, or they could have found him and taken him away, and I wouldn't know.

We have to protect each other.

My father wraps his arms around me, trying to detain me, and I start screaming. Why won't they let me see him? What have they done to him?

Through the haze of panic, I hear someone mention his name to the woman who had been taking my vitals.

"… Edward Cullen… no, apparently he's the same… we have no choice… panic attack in their current state… take her."

Take me?

Where are they taking me?

"You can't take me!" I scream. "Where's Edward?"

"Bella," my father murmurs to me, "you need to come with us."

My father's in on it too. He wants them to take me.

The waves of terror consume me, and everything seems to fade to grey. Someone picks me up, but I'm powerless to stop it. I should have known. At least this time I'm being carried, rather than dragged by my hair as usual.

Then, something penetrates the haze. A voice.

A furious, familiar voice.

"What the fuck have you motherfuckers done to her? Why isn't she walking? Bella? Bella!"

He's here.

I force my eyes open only to see him confined to a bed. Good. His knee is in terrible shape. He's trying to get up, but that won't do at all. I push against my father's arms, and happily, he lets me go. I dart over to Edward and he wraps an arm around me. I bury my face in his chest.

"Are you ok?" he murmurs, too low for anyone else to hear. I can also hear the orderlies clearing the room, giving us space. My father reluctantly leaves the room, along with a couple I don't recognise. I'm too exhausted to care who they are.

"Yes. I thought they'd taken you back," I confess. "I didn't know where you were. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," he tells me, and I smirk at his choice of words.

"This place is too big."

"I know." Of course he does. He's the only person who knows.

"I couldn't see you."

"I'm here now."

"Good."

Our voices are near silent, a habit we've developed. Our conversations were one of the few things the men couldn't have, those were ours. Just as long as we kept them low enough that they couldn't steal them from us.

"Miss Swan," I hear the voice of the woman who'd pissed me off before. "Mr Cullen is here, and he's safe. I need you to get in," she says, and I look up to see her gesturing to the other bed in the room, "so we can finish making sure you're ok."

"She doesn't have to leave?" Edward clarifies.

"No."

"It's ok, Bella," he breaths in my ear, "we're together. It's ok."

I get up and take the four steps to the other bed, although I feel like I'm a mile away. This isn't right. We're vulnerable like this. He looks just as anxious as I feel, and watches like a hawk as the woman runs a series of small tests on me and gives me some stitches. She moves onto Edward, doing the same thing.

Finally, everyone leaves us alone, citing that we need sleep. It's a matter of seconds before I cross the room and we're together on the small hospital bed.

"I miss our mattress," I mumble absently as I try to settle in. The sheet makes a strange crinkling noise and I grimace.

"Yeah. It shits on this one," he agrees, as I knew he would.

"What's going to happen now?" I ask as I snuggle down in the blanket. He stretches his arm out and I rest my head on it. This mattress is much smaller than our one, so we have to tangle our legs and arms just to fit.

"I'm not sure," he says casually. Uncertainty is something that we're used to.

"We're going to be alright, though," I say, although it sounds like a question.

"We're going to be just fine."