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The Bird and the Worm (one-shot) by Achlies






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Table of Contents
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Story Notes:

 

Lyrics from “The Bird and the Worm” by The Used are peppered throughout the story and, unfortunately, I don’t own a single word of them.  Nor do I own Twilight.

From Alice's perspective, as seen through a single vision.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Twilighted Supervisory Beta: qjmom
Twilighted Junior Validation Beta: Phoenix Rising

 

Author's Chapter Notes:

Twilighted Supervisory Beta: qjmom

 

Twilighted Junior Validation Beta: Phoenix Rising


 

 

 

Oh, god, no.

I ran.

He was in her bed, alone and unmoving. His mouth was stretched back in a painful, self-mocking frown. Exhausted from the endless days of misplaced efforts to save her, he began to succumb. He opened his eyes and I helplessly watched them flicker from gold to crimson as he lied there. All alone, fighting the parallel demons of thirst and love in an altruistic quest to save her, he had turned to stone.

For months he had been her savior, relentlessly protective and overwhelmingly sincere. But he was tired and as I watched him stare peacefully at the ceiling, he would become her demise.

She came into her bedroom and stopped in the threshold. She couldn’t understand all that his expression implied, but still she took a hesitant step backwards. Her instincts demanded she run; every muscle in her body was coiled with tension. She shifted her weight, from foot to foot, until he took a deep breath, painfully and shamelessly deep, and locked eyes with her.

He pulled the edge of the covers back. But still she stood, and watched as he silently beckoned her to the bed.  He smiled at her and she came to him, just as he knew she would.

He sighed deeply as she lay down. He pulled the covers to her shoulders and wrapped his arms around her. Her face was a frantic mess of worry, anger, confusion, terror . . . and love. She was resigned and so she closed her eyes.

He took an impossibly deep breath and I watched as she froze in his arms. I could see the hurried beats of her pulse through her neck.  He could see them, too. He hummed softly until she relaxed, slowly, and pushed her face into his chest. I watched as his body stilled until he was no more than an eloquently carved statue with a taut frown and a relentless, burning need.

I ran faster.

As he looked down at her, his tight frown softened. He began rocking her slowly and I heard his humming become less peaceful and more urgent. He pressed his lips to her temple in a sweet move, but he was determined.  He took another deep breath.

All alone, wrapped in his selfless and misplaced sense of gallantry, he succumbed to his instincts. He moved his lips to her neck, yet held his breath, as she paled beneath him.

All he knew was if he couldn’t relieve it, it grew. And so it goes.

I walked slowly into her room. His body was turned towards me but his eyes still remained on the bed. A very human shudder rolled through his shoulders and in an instant I saw Atlas solidify in front of me.

His stoic face flickered briefly as he watched the story of his demise turn to ashes in my mind. An impossible tear formed at the corner of his eye. I looked away as it solidified, hardened, and as the frozen opacity blurred its crimson edges.

“She was sleeping,” he said and I watched the floor as he retreated.

 

 

 

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