trouble | i.g

thirty two - "enemy infiltration."

*AN: surprise motherfuckers :)*

Bella's POV

"You've killed her." I heard a voice say, "And dragged her cold corpse into my room to blame me for the crime."

"Um, no," somebody else was in the room, and suddenly warm fingers were wrapped around my wrist and pressing lightly against my pulse. "She's breathing."

"I'll burn the body if I have to."

"Please don't do that."

There was a wad of cotton caught in my mouth and a fist pounding at the space behind my forehead. I tried to open my eyes, and was instantly met with an intense ray of light that was so blinding it could only signal my arrival at the gates of heaven. I groaned and rolled over, taking a moment to mourn my death. I had left too young, and with so much to live for. I also never got a chance to clear my internet history.

"How am I not in hell?" I lamented.

"Because you're already here," a voice said, and I finally managed to force my eyes open. I was not crossing interdemensional-worlds. I was lying in a bed that I did not recognize, wrapped in a blanket that I also didn't recognize, with a killer headache and a throat that felt like it had suffered from years of chain smoking. Holly, my best friend, stood at the end of the bed with a fire in her eyes that looked fierce enough to burn down the entire town (with me and probably several children trapped inside). I genuinely feared for my life.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Ian said. I turned, and there he was, leaning back in a desk chair with his feet kicked up on the bed. His arms were crossed as he smiled at me with a tired expression and- I realized it with a start- my secret now balanced on his back. I wondered if he felt its presence like I had everyday, or if it now made him see me through a kaleidoscope that painted me a different color then he had watched through before. But he just looked at me as though he knew nothing, as though I hadn't crawled under one of the motel beds last night and cried myself to sleep, despite the many attempts Ian made at luring me out with food and poking me with a broom handle. But I had no memory of what happened after I fell asleep, or how I ended up in the pedophilia motel in town to what I was assuming as Holly's bedroom.

"What," I deadpanned, "Is happening."

Holly suddenly rushed at me with her arms outstretched, wielding a cup of ice water like a weapon. I meekly tried to defend myself with a pillow, but it was just swatted away. She jostled the drink in my face before forcing it into my mouth, tipping it back while I choked and began spitting all over the two of us.

"Drink it, damn it!" She was shouting, while water began spurting out of my nose, "Get better!" She began flinging it at me like holy water. I was gurgling. She was screaming. Ian's wide eyes watched us with alarm before suddenly darkening with worry. He jolted to his feet so fast his chair skidded across the floor.

"Hey, hey, hey," he exclaimed, lightly grabbing Holly's elbow to attempt to draw her away from me, "Be gentle with her, she just woke up. Let's all just calm down, okay-"

Her wrath was diverted. She spun around, blonde hair flying out like whiplash, and began jabbing at the center of Ian's chest, "You," she snapped, "Can not ever tell me what to do." She pushed harder against him, and he stumbled back with both hands raised in surrender, "You think just because you're all sweet to Bella and you play the role of a nice, protecting boyfriend that everyone will really forget what an ass you are."

"I'm feeling a bit attacked right now," Ian said, getting backed up against a desk, "And I'm a little unsure on how to defend myself."

I snapped myself out of the trance I had been put in when I saw the helpless glance Ian was giving me from over the top of Holly's head. He stood there, much taller than this short blonde-head, biceps flexed as he blocked his face from her assault. "What do I do?" He said quickly, knocking over a lamp in his effort to get away, "Bella. Young. Help. Me."