General Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Twilight, as I'm not SMeyer. I think my Edward is more fun than her Edward though.
A/N: So, with the help of vjgm from Twilighted, I've gone through and tamed Edward's inner rage slightly in an effort to cut down on my gratuitous use of the word "Fuck". Still rated for language, as Edward's still an angry bastard.
Well fuck, I thought as red and blue flashed against the night sky. My head was throbbing, though whether it was more from the booze or the steering wheel smashing into my skull, I wasn't sure, but I didn't really give a fuck at this particular moment. I had bigger things to worry about. Like the fact that the front of my car was wrapped around a tree, there were at least three cop cars surrounding my busted ass vehicle, and I had three open containers in the passenger seat. Like I said…fuck.
I hissed at the harsh light that assaulted my eyes when the 'pig in blue' shined his flash light into the car. "Step out of the vehicle, Cullen." It's never good when the cops know you by name.
Fuck you, I thought bitterly, though I wasn't really up to adding resisting arrest to my file tonight, so I shoved the door open, praying it at least clipped piggy in the balls as it swung back if I pushed it hard enough. No such luck. Fuck. I stumbled from the driver's seat of the Volvo, my head spinning.
"Have you had anything to drink tonight?"
I snorted at the pig, rolling my eyes. "Jus' one or two." I really tried not to slur but Jesus Christ. That shit's easier said than done. Anyone who's ever been drunk will tell you just how hard it is to not slur. So of course I fucked that shit up, earning a knowing grin from the cop, but whatever. Like anyone couldn't tell I was wasted. I'd just wrapped the front end of my car around the fucking trunk of a tree for God's sake. Whatever.
"Alright, just step away from the vehicle, kid."
I stumbled away from the Volvo, scowling angrily as the rest of the pigs stopped whatever the hell they were doing to stare at me. Fucking Assholes.
I knew the fucking drill, but I let Weasel Dick walk me through the field sobriety test as another asshat searched my Volvo. I could feel the cold metal of the handcuffs digging into my hands as the jackoff cuffed me a little harder than necessary. "Jesus Christ!" I spat over my shoulder angrily. "Don't be so fucking rough next time, dickhead."
"Shut your fucking mouth, kid. You're in enough trouble as it is. Don't make me slap a disorderly charge on you too."
"Bite me, mother fucker."
He snorted as he shoved me forcefully into the back of his cruiser, my head clipping the edge of the door. I knew this part of the drill too. I'd have to sit in the back of this cold ass piece of shit while the rest of the pigs finished searching my car. Only after a tow truck had been called to haul awaymy now useless piece of shit car, would Weasel Dick finally take me down to the station. I'd be fingerprinted, photographed, and released to a responsible parent or guardian with various citations and yet another smudge on my already hefty record.
There was no doubt in my drunk mind that Carlisle would be pissed or, at the very least, threaten to let me sit over night in the county jail, but that was all talk. Of course he'd come and pick me up. He wouldn't want a rumor to start that the 'Good Doctor' abandoned his juvenile delinquent of a son during his time of need. Carlisle was all about avoiding a scandal. That worked in my favor most of the time, even if I did think he was the world's biggest douche.
"You just can't fucking stay out of trouble, can you Cullen? Daddy's not going to be too pleased after he gets this phone call."
"Fuck you Weasel Dick," I slurred, mentally flipping him off since I couldn't do so physically with my hands cuffed behind my back. I slouched down in the seat as much as possible, leaning my throbbing head back against the seat as I closed my eyes. I'd whacked my head pretty hard against the steering wheel and the door of the cruiser. I wondered if I could get the Good Doctor to sue the cops for failure to even make sure I didn't have a fucking concussion. I mean, I probably could have died sitting here or something.
I felt the car jerk to a stop, my head flying forward only to be stopped by the partition between Weasel Dick and myself. "Sonofabitch! Where the hell did you learn to drive?" I cursed, glaring at Weasel Dick. At least, I thought I was glaring at him. There were currently three of him in my life of vision. I didn't know if I was looking at the right one, but whatever. It was the thought that counted.
"Oops," he responded, though he didn't sound one fucking bit sorry. Prick. That certainly wasn't going to help the possible concussion. When I was less drunk, I'd have to play that up to get a little sympathy so that maybe I really could talk Carlisle into suing this piss poor police department. Then, I would fucking own Weasel Dick.
I almost laughed at the thought, but the throbbing in my head cut that shit real short. I groaned as he yanked me out of the back seat, my head spinning. I was almost positive that I was going to puke on his feet, but before I had the opportunity, he shoved me forward.
"This is fucking police brutality, asshole!" I screamed. "Watch your fucking hands."
"Shut the hell up, Cullen. Just get in the fucking station."
I wanted to argue with him, I wanted to remind him that he was nothing more than a wart on the genitals of society. But I didn't because I was already going to be in enough fucking trouble as it was. I didn't need to add an hour long lecture on how I needed to 'respect the heroes of our city' and all that other bullshit that Carlisle tended to spout once he really got going. So I kept my mouth shut and let him toss me in through the back door of the department.
Being arrested was not as cool as it's portrayed on TV. You basically get thrown in this tiny ass room with at least three pigs who stink and were sweating out of their fucking eyeballs while you sat there, handcuffed, in a cracked plastic chair that pinched your ass every time you so much as breathed. And supposedly, you only got one phone call, but that was bullshit because they made me call Carlisle as many times as it took for him to answer.
So there I sat, with my head tucked between my now un-cuffed hands as I waited for el Douche-o dad to show up.
The only sounds to be heard were Weasel Dick typing away on his old ass computer and some other asshat at the desk in the back of the room hacking his nasty fucking germs all over the place. Disgusting. The shrill ringing of the telephone sliced through the air, causing me to cringe as the sound assaulted my ears. Did everything have to be so goddamned loud?
"Processing," he greeted. I couldn't hear the bitch clearly on the other end of the phone, but Weasel Dick's portion of the conversation told me everything I needed to know. Carlisle was here. "Tell him to have a seat in the waiting room. I'm not done processing our friend yet."
As he slammed the phone down, again, harder than necessary, I scowled angrily. "Doctor Cullen doesn't take too kindly to waiting," I reminded him, but he was well aware. He simply smirked in my direction and shrugged.
"Then Doctor Cullen shouldn't have raised such a fuck up."
I wanted to punch Weasel Dick right in his smug fucking face, but assaulting a police officer was a pretty hefty charge and I wanted to do nothing more than to get my ass home, get naked, and possibly get my latest booty call over to the house for a good drunk fuck, so I kept my mouth shut, again. It wasn't easy,
Just as I was debating on whether or not to puke right there on the ugly floor, Weasel Dick pushed his chair back, cracking his knuckles. "Alright Cullen. Let's go."
"About fucking time, asshat."
"Shut your fucking mouth before I change my mind and hold you here a little longer."
He pulled me to my feet and shoved me towards the door of the processing room. I stumbled drunkenly down the hallway, nearly face-planting twice before we even made it to the waiting room. El Douche-o sat, his mouth turned downward in a frown as he pushed himself to his feet.
"Doctor Cullen," Weasel Dick greeted with a nod of his head.
"How much trouble is he in this time?" Carlisle asked, clenching his jaw.
I hated when they fucking talked about me like I wasn't even standing here. Douchebags.
"He's lucky he didn't kill himself. We got a call for an accident just off the highway. Driving drunk again, of course. We cited him for reckless driving, driving under the influence, underage possession of alcohol, three charges of driving with an open container, and possession of narcotics. When we searched the vehicle, we found a baggy of weed under the driver's seat."
Fuck. I knew I should have left that shit home. I didn't miss the glare that Carlisle sent my way and it took every ounce of strength I had to keep from flipping him the bird. Dick face. I loved when he pretended to actually give a shit whether or not I killed myself in front of other people. We both knew he didn't give two shits about what happened to me. He was just concerned about how this made him look.
But really, he should be thanking me. That asshole bagged all kinds of pussy from those stupid nurses at the hospital because of me. They all wanted to comfort him for having such a fuck up of a son. He almost pulled as much pussy as I did. Almost.
After signing all the necessary paperwork, we were finally given the clearance to leave. I stumbled out after him, ignoring the pointed glares he was throwing me the entire time. I climbed into the passenger seat of his black Mercedes, leaning my throbbing head back against the seat. I wondered if he was too angry to try and play the sympathy card but the sharp sound of him slamming the door told me everything I needed to know. He was pissed.
The ride to the house was silent and tense. He was busy stewing over the fact that he had to stop whatever the fuck he was doing to come get me and I was busy concentrating on not puking all over the inside of the Mercedes. Of course, it would be pretty funny to see Carlisle's reaction to that, but I wasn't looking forward to cleaning that shit up when I got home. And, since I didn't have the Volvo now, I didn't particularly want to smell like Vodka Vomit when Carlisle drove me to school on Monday. That shit's just gross.
I'd never been so happy to see the house as I was when he turned into the driveway. Let's see… I fucked Tracy last night. Jamie's still got that disgusting stomach virus… Mandy. Yeah, Mandy's a good one to call. It's been a couple of days, I decided as I unstrapped my seatbelt.
"My office. Five minutes," Carlisle snarled as he climbed out of the Mercedes, not even giving me a goddamned chance to argue.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I cried as I stumbled out of the car. "C'mon, Carlisle! Can't this bullshit wait until tomorrow?"
"Five. Minutes," he reiterated, his jaw clenched again.
Well fuck. I hated his stupid lectures. It was a waste of time. We both knew that I completely ignored him, so really, what the hell was the point of continuing the charade? Whatever. I slammed the door of the Mercedes before I brushed passed him angrily, storming into the house.
As I stumbled my way up the stairs to my bedroom, I thought briefly about completely ignoring his demand about meeting him in his office and just go the hell to bed. But I knew Carlisle better than that. If I wasn't in his office in five fucking minutes, he'd come busting into my room and drag me out of bed and then I'd hear about that shit for days too. It was best to just get it the fuck over with and let him get it out of his system.
I took my sweet ass time as I took a piss and changed my clothes before I headed down the hallway to his office. I ignored the irritated look on his face as I sank down into the plush leather chair, ready to get this crap over with.
"What?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
"What the fuck were you thinking, Edward? What the fuck are you ever thinking when you pull stupid shit like this?"
I rolled my eyes. "Let's just cut the bullshit, Carlisle. What the fuck do you really want?"
"When did you turn into such an insolent little prick?"
I couldn't contain the laugh at that one. I always loved with the Good Doctor lost his composure. "I learned from the best," I sneered. "Are we done here? Is that all you really wanted to ask?"
"I'm not doing this with you anymore, Edward. You've fucked up more over the last three years than most people do in their entire lives and I've had it. I think it's time I sent you somewhere. You've left me no choice."
I rolled my eyes at his threat. We went through this after every arrest. He claimed to be at his wit's end and threaten to send me away. I'd laugh, roll my eyes, and dare him to even try before I'd stalk out of the room. It was a dance we'd done many times. And he hadn't made good on his threat yet.
"And where exactly do you plan on sending me, Carlisle? Who are you going to dump me on?" I asked, merely humoring him. We both knew this would be forgotten come morning.
I laughed loudly at that one. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. That bitch is like a hundred and seventy years old. Yeah, okay Carlisle. If you're going to threaten me, you should at least pick someone who can walk."
"Ruby is very capable, Edward. But I was sure you'd react this way. That's why I've made plans for an alternative, just in case." I watched as he pulled a…brochure from his desk and slide it across the mahogany surface towards me. "It's your choice, son."
"Really Carlisle? Really?" I snorted as I shoved the brochure back to him.
"The Marine Military Academy would do you some good."
"You've got to be fucking kidding me. So it's either a fucking military academy or Ruby?" I snorted. "I'll take the old bitch any day."
"She's quite capable of handling you, Edward."
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"Regardless," he continued, ignoring me, "if you fuck up with Ruby, the fucking academy is exactly where you're going to find yourself. Maybe that'll be incentive enough to keep you from fucking up."
"You're reaching for the stars with that one, aren't you?" I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Are we fucking done here?"
"You might want to start packing your things, son. You're leaving Tuesday."
"I can't believe you're fucking doing this. I haven't even seen that old bitch in like… ten years. Why the fuck would she even agree to this bullshit?"
"She's your grandmother, Edward."
"Man," I said as I headed for the door. "I can't wait to have kids so I can pawn them off on someone else. Must be great to be a parent."
I didn't bother to hang around and wait for his response. I stomped down the hallway to the bedroom, making as much fucking noise as possible. I knew how much he hated that shit. Once I was in the safety of my bedroom, I slammed the door, kicking it for good measure. I couldn't believe this shit.
Talk about a fucking buzz kill.
I wasn't lying when I said I hadn't seen Ruby in at least ten years. There was no reason to continue after my mother left. I always got the impression that Carlisle hated Ruby and that was pretty much confirmed when the trips to Forks had stopped after the whore was no longer around to force us to visit.
Ah, Forks. I hated that town. That place was the fucking bane of my existence. Further proof that Ruby was a fucking nut job, just like her whore of a daughter. Who the fuck would want to live in a virtually sunless town? That shit was depressing. And now, all because Carlisle was a fuck up as a father, I was being forced back to that place with a woman that I knew absolutely nothing about. I fell back onto the bed, closing my eyes. Well fuck.
A/N: Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of Saved. As much as I love Drunk!Edward, reviews are better.