Shed some Light

by Amber Naralim

  “I need to make sure he is alright.”

  “El,” Vincent whispered. “I'm sorry.”

  Ellie took his hand. She laced her fingers between his. “I know... I know you had to do it. And I know Reese is right,” she admitted, tears springing to her eyes. “Something is wrong with him,” Ellie whispered, her voice breaking. “I've seen it. I just- just couldn't admit it.”

  With a wince of pain, Vincent slid his arm around her. She leaned in against his warm, half-naked body. Vincent stared at the wall. He remembered the look in Edward's eye when he turned on her. It was Vincent’s greatest fear given shape. He had been so afraid that one day, he would do the same thing to her.

  “What if he doesn't come back?” Ellie whispered against his stomach.

  Vincent pulled back by inches and sank down resting on his haunches. Face to face with her, he brushed the back of his hand across her tear stained cheek. Vincent stared into her shining green eyes.

  “He will,” Vincent whispered. “He is strong, just like you.”

  Ellie tried to smile. Instead, she broke down into sobs. “I don't want to do this anymore,” she cried. “So afraid every moment of every day.” Ellie looked into his face. “Me and you, it was different. It was hard. But I knew we would be all right,” Ellie sobbed.

  She ran her hands through his hair. Ellie leaned forward, laying a kiss on his forehead. “I thought once he was safe.” She sniffed. “I figured I could rest. I thought it could just be us. But he's not safe. I can't rescue him from this. Maybe I was stupid to think I could rescue him at all.”

  Vincent’s jaw clenched. That was the reason he didn't want to save Edward in the first place. Vincent did it because she wanted him to. The people chasing him had taken Edward. They turned him into a monster. And Vincent set him loose on the world. For her. Vincent would do anything for her. Anything she needed. Anything she wanted. No matter how wrong he knew it was. This was all his fault. That look on Ellie’s face was his fault.

  “He's your big brother, El. You're not supposed to save him. He's supposed to save you.” Vincent huffed out a breath. “We could go.”

  “What?” Ellie asked reaching up to wipe at her nose with the back of her hand.

  “We could leave. Just you and me again, out into the world,” he said. Vincent saw the expression on her face, the look in her eye. He knew better. His Ellie didn’t run.

  “I can't give up on him,” Ellie said, her voice quiet.

  Vincent smiled. That was his Ellie. “Or we can stay and try to save him. You know me, El. Anything for you. I can't tell you no.”

  Ellie looked at him for a long moment. Tears rolled down her face. “Why do you love me the way you do?”

  “You're my Ellie,” Vincent told her with a smile. “My North Star. You saved me. I will spend the rest of my unnaturally long life trying to make it up to you.”

  Ellie kissed him. It was gentle and chaste, and yet it held every bit of passion she had ever felt for him. Somehow, she managed to show every ounce of what he meant to her with that bare brush of lips. Her fingertips on either side of his face, she looked into those swirling, dark eyes of his. Ellie gave him the ghost of a smile.

  “You're my Vincent, you know that, right?”

  Vincent smiled. He did now. He darted forward and kissed her again. Elation ran through him. “Come on, beautiful. I need you,” Vincent told her. That made her smile, broken as it was. He lifted her into his arms with only a tiny wince. Vincent carried her upstairs through the quiet hush of the house. Up the steps and into her bedroom, he laid her gently onto the bed, smiling down at her.

  Ellie lay her head against the pillows. She watched as he climbed into the bed with her. He rolled onto his side, pushing up on his elbow. Vincent slid his hand into hers. Bringing it up to his mouth, he kissed the back of her palm. Vincent looked down at her for a long while. Ellie took in a shuddering breath, running her thumb across the back of his hand.

  “Sleep,” he whispered.

  “I thought you needed me?” Ellie asked with a smirk.

  “I do need you. I'll always need you, El. And right now, I need you to sleep.”

  She smiled, blinking her heavy eyes. “You'll stay with me?”

  Vincent gave her a smile of his own. “You're never getting rid of me.”

  Ellie blinked a few times letting her eyes fall closed. She was asleep in minutes. Vincent lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. He thought back to his time at the hospital. He remembered all the tests they put him through. How many times he hoped that this one would be the one to finally kill him. Nothing they did kept him down for very long. He healed everything. Every harrowing pain they put him through.

  It was only a matter of time Vincent tried to tell himself. But the truth was he had no idea what Susan did to Edward. Vincent didn't know if he was coming back. The one thing he did know was that if Edward didn't he would lose Ellie. That was the look in her eyes when he dragged Edward's bleeding corpse into the room. For just a split second, Ellie hated him.

  If she hated him, it really was over. He might as well drown himself in darkness because without her there was no light. There was no hope for him. Death was all he had left. Vincent’s life was a series of what ifs and should haves. A long line of one mistake after another. The only thing good in him was Ellie. Vincent couldn't lose her.

  Hours passed with Vincent listening to the peaceful sounds of her breathing. The soft, wonderful rhythm of her heartbeat calmed him. He thought about Edward. Thought about how different things would have been, had he tried to save them both that night. Would Ellie still be here with him? Vincent watched as the sunlight dappled and danced across one of the paintings of her.

  He heard the sound of familiar footsteps on the hallway floor and down the steps. The sound of the coffee pot, running water played in his ears. Vincent pulled out of the covers carefully, trying not to wake her. He walked out of the room as silent as any thief. Down the steps and through the back hall, he stopped. Charlie moved about the kitchen.

  Vincent leaned against the jamb, thinking. He licked his lips, heaving a heavy sigh. Charlie looked up, startled. “Oh, Vincent. Goodness, you about gave me a heart attack,” Charlie said. “Are you all right, sugar? You look,” she paused looking for the right word. “You look troubled.”

  “What did they do to Edward?” Vincent asked.

  Charlie sighed. “That Bennet lady was a smart cookie,” she said, cracking an egg into a bowl. “She stripped the virus down. She was trying to keep the superhuman sexiness, as Ellie would call it and lose the uncontrollable monster,” Charlie explained. “Which makes sense. You said they were trying to make soldiers.”

  “Then why is he still so angry?”

  “Well,” Charlie said, mixing the eggs together with a whisk. “Soldiers are meant to kill.”

  “Great. So Susan gave him all of the powers and still kept the rage,” he said.

  “And, the more I mess with the dosages. The more his moods go out of whack.” Charlie looked up at him. “You want some eggs?”

  Vincent exhaled through his nose and shook his head. It almost made him smile. Vincent swore after he killed her husband she cooked and baked for a week straight. It was Charlie’s coping mechanism. Looking at her Vincent’s heart tore a bit more. She didn't belong here. She didn't deserve to be afraid every day. Ellie's words echoed in his head. Neither did Ellie. Vincent took in a deep breath just to blow it out again. He really despised Edward in that moment.

  “She also made the serum addictive. He's completely dependent on it,” Charlie said. “They needed some form of control, hence the addiction. The people she infected would have to go to them to get it. From the notes, it sounds like they were experimenting with mental conditioning and hypnosis as well. And they did something to him that isn’t in the notes. Just a string of numbers and a date.” Charlie sighed. “I should have told you sooner. Reese is right. I should have told you, honey. I'm sorry.”


  “Tell me what?”

  “I can't make more of the serum. That- that Edward is dying and there's nothing I can do about it. He wanted me to keep it secret from Ellie. So she wouldn't go rushing back to that hospital.”

  Vincent took a few steps into the room laying his hands on the granite counter top. He looked at Charlie across from him. “You can't recreate it?”

  Charlie plastered her lips together and shook her head. Tears stung her eyes. “I don't have the skills.” Charlie wiped at her eye. “Edward knew. Reese figured it out. I just don't have the heart to tell Ellie. Even if I did, he didn't want her to know.”

  “What happens when we run out?”

  Charlie swallowed, biting her lip. “His systems will start shutting down, one by one, then his organs. And then-” She stopped not wanting to finish her sentence.

  Vincent hung his head, his shoulders knitting together. “He'll die,” he said it for her.

  Charlie nodded her head. She half turned, poking at the scrambled eggs with the spatula. “He's been distant from her because he didn't want her to figure it out.”

  “Yeah,” Vincent said. His mind raced. Huh, figures, if he could have held out a couple more months this never would have happened. Edward would have died and, and... Ellie would still blame him for it. Vincent gave a roll of his eyes cursing Edward's name yet again. His head dragged around in a tight circle.

  “What if he was infected with the real virus?” Vincent asked, looking down at the floor.

  Charlie thought about that for a moment. “It could heal the damage that the serum caused. It could also kill him. Hell, it could turn him into a pink, fluffy bunny. I have no way of knowing,” she said.

  Vincent healed everything. From the moment that beast ripped open his guts. Nothing anyone did to him made a damn bit of difference. But, and it was a big but. Nothing that was done to him before he was infected went away. His heart even now skipped a beat with his heart murmur. If he infected Edward, it might not save him. It would have been better had the security team simply killed Edward. What Susan did to him was so much worse. A slow death is cruelty. Vincent sighed. He walked toward the stairs, decision made. Saving Edward was the only way. It was the only way to wipe that look from Ellie’s eyes.

  “Where you going?” Charlie asked, dumping her eggs onto a plate.

  “To bring Edward back.”

  Charlie dropped the pan into the sink, jogging after him. By the time she came down the steps, Vincent was standing over Edward’s body. She frowned, worried about what might happen. Charlie hurried over to them. “Are you sure about this?”

  “If he dies, El will never forgive me. Besides, I owe this to him,” Vincent said looking down at her. “It's my fault all this happened to them.”

  Charlie shook her head back and forth. “How?” she asked with wide eyes. “I thought you didn't know quite how you got infected?”

  Vincent swallowed loud enough for her to hear it. “I drank its blood,” he said, without taking his eyes off Edward.

  “What?”

  “The knife in my boot,” Vincent said and then remembered where he had gotten it in the first place. “Reese's knife. I stabbed it in the eye, in the throat. Its blood-drenched all over me. I swallowed some of it,” he explained, shrugging his broad shoulders.

  “So you're going to feed him your blood?”

  Vincent nodded. “He's already dead. The blood, I swallowed it and a few moments later I was dead.” Somehow, that seemed fitting. Whatever this virus was, it was mythical and supernatural. Not something that could be quantified and studied in a lab. Charlie walked over. Opening the drawer in her desk, she pulled out a scalpel. Charlie handed it to him with an awkward smile.

  “Open his mouth,” Vincent directed.

  Charlie walked around him. With both hands, she craned Edward’s head back, resting it so that his mouth stood open. She looked up at Vincent. He was staring down at the body. Vincent’s lips pursed. He wiggled them back and forth, trying to figure out the best way to do this. Finally, he took a step forward and raised his wrist. Vincent stopped and looked down at Charlie.

  “You should probably step back, just in case,” Vincent told her.

  Charlie nodded. She walked to the other side of the room. It was kind of nice to have someone listen to him for once. Vincent took in a breath and ran the blade of the scalpel over his skin, opening the vein. He left the tip there, to keep it from healing in on itself. There was pain. But nothing Vincent hadn't felt before. Two thick heavy drops splattered onto the paper. Another dropped onto Edward's face, well, what was left of it anyway. Vincent turned his wrist and laid it down against Edward’s open mouth.

  The blood drained into his throat. Charlie watched intently from the other side of the basement. She would take a step right, or left, but never any closer. Finally, Vincent pulled the scalpel away. The cut healed in on itself. Vincent hoped it was enough. He pulled his arm away, staring down at Edward’s body.

  It felt like an eternity had passed and nothing happened. Vincent frowned. He looked at Charlie. She gave him a shrug of her ample shoulders. Then, Edward's leg twitched. A fine tremble stole over his body and the massive damage began to heal. It was like watching a flower bloom backward, each petal slipping back magically.

  Vincent watched as the bones in Edward’s chest began to mend. The sharp bone sticking out of his thigh pulled back in. Skin flowing like water, it knit back together. His skull forged itself together. Heat began to flow from him. Vincent took a step back. Edward's body began to shake and seize. His arms and legs shuddered. His spine bowed.

  Edward fell back to the table whole again. A ragged breath tore free of his throat. Edward sat up fighting hard to catch his breath. His eyes were completely black with a blue starburst licking in their center. The darkness looked out of place in his pale face. Heat rolled through him, unfurling like tendrils. It chased the pain away. Edward blinked his eyes. The world shimmered gold. Bright sparkles clung to every surface. What light flooded the basement stung his eyes. Tears dripped down the sides of his face. He shook. His teeth chattering threatened to explode his eardrums. It was so loud. Over the past few months, Edward had slowly gotten used to his heightened senses. This was all new extremes he wouldn’t have believed existed if he weren’t experiencing them. Edward held his hand up shielding himself from the blinding light. He couldn’t get over the sensation of air moving over his skin. All he could remember was pain.

  Acidic, like his entire body was dipped in fire. His mind reeled at his senses. It made it impossible to think. Then, like a spike of electricity being hammered into his brain, he remembered Ellie. She had her gun pointed at him. Her eyes like shiny green stones. The memory sent waves of cold down his spine. He was going to kill her. He cocked that razored fist back and brought it down.

  “Ellie?” Edward cried, those inhuman eyes wide. “She’s okay? Please, tell me I didn’t-” he couldn’t even finish saying it.

  “She’s alright.”

  Edward turned his head to stare at Vincent. Wetting his lips, Edward tried twice to speak before the words escaped him. “I didn't hurt her?” His eyebrows pulled inward. “Did I?”

  Vincent swallowed, the muscles in his jaw bunching. “No,” Vincent told him. “I stopped you.”

  Edward's eyes closed, his face showed relief. A breath fell out of him. He looked at Vincent with grateful eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “I had to kill you,” Vincent told him gravely. Just talking about it made Vincent’s right eye twitch. The anger it caused bubbled in his belly.

  Edward blinked those eyes at him. The darkness began to bleed back. It flowed backward leaving his eyes a stark tri-color blue. “Then how am I talking to you?”

  “Because,” Vincent began.

  “He infected you,” Charlie finished for him.

  Edward looked at Vincent. His expression read confusion. He shook his head. “Why would you-”

  “Your death would have killed Ell
ie. And I can't hurt her.”

  The two of them stared at one another for a long time. Edward swallowed, taking in a breath. His eyes slid to Charlie with a hunger that Vincent knew all too well. Whatever control Edward thought he had was nothing compared to the Beast.

  Just a whiff of her scent, honeysuckle mixed with copper, had him reeling. Edward’s stomach seized and pain shot through him. The hunger was sharp, a rock in the pit of his stomach. A need stronger than Edward had ever felt before. He swallowed. His mouth salivated for just a taste of Charlie. Vincent stepped between them. He stared at Vincent with wide eyes. Edward didn't understand why she was so amazingly tantalizing. Vincent stood next to him and he did not hunger for Vincent. He looked at Vincent with new, appreciative eyes.

  Edward could hear her heartbeat thundering in his ears. He could see the blood flowing through her. The image was superimposed upon Charlie. The gold dust that shimmered and sparkled hadn’t gone away. Edward wanted to rip into her, tear chunks of her away. He craved Charlie’s flesh in ways that he would never understand. He wanted to hear her screams. Edward fed on her fear. Every time she gasped, his heartbeat rose and fell.

  Edward felt his Beast rise to the surface. It stared about the room in curiosity. He felt Vincent's mind like a brush of velvet in the back of his head. Familiar, and warm, he recognized it as his own, as part of it. He could hear voices whispering on the edge of his consciousness. Edward tried to breathe through the hunger, the thirst. He felt like he was drowning. His senses were on fire. He could hear the squirrels on the back porch. He could hear Anna breathing. Her heart beat out a peaceful rhythm in her sleep. And something else. It was faint, barely audible over everything else around him.

  Sunlight cut rectangles on the wall that danced ever so slightly. It was beautiful, all of it, and yet the light was so bright that it walked a fine edge between wonderful and painful. It was hard to control his movements. There was so much power behind his every muscle. A breath fell out of him and he looked up at Vincent.

  “Is this what it's like for you, every day?”

  Vincent nodded his head. “You have to hunt. You have to keep it fed. Keep it full. Or it will hurt them.” Somehow, Edward knew that when he said, them, Vincent really meant, her.