Are You Sick? BPOV
Ough. My throat felt as if someone had poured gasoline down my windpipe, along with a lit match. It was on fire, making it difficult to swallow, burning each time I did. My head felt so heavy, my lungs weighed down with mucus. All the Tylenol and mucus medicine in the world couldn't make me feel better. My whole body hurt, it was tired and it took more energy than it should, for me to move. I tried sleeping. I tried Melatonin, but it wouldn't work. All I could do was lay in my bed and try not to move. That didn't work either. Within 5 minutes I was sitting on the edge of my bed, restless. There wasn't much I could do, while being sick. But I knew I wouldn't be by myself for too much longer. He would be here any minute. Any second. Any-
"Bella?" He stood outside my bedroom door for a minute or two. It creaked open, he stood there, still, like a game show prize.
"Come in Edward." My voice sounded so raspy and uneven. I hope he wouldn't notice. If he did, he didn't let on that he knew. He strolled in, giving me a kiss, before sitting on my old rocking chair.
"Feeling casual today, love?" Must've noticed my messy hair. Well, it was hard to miss. I probably looked like a complete wreck.
"Ah hah. Yeah, I guess so." I joked, trying to maintain a sick free, look as I (dizzily) went to my dresser to get a hair tie. My messy hair was put into a messy bun, all together it looked like a big clump on the top of my head.
When I turned around, not completely satisfied with my blob of a hair-do, his eyes became stuck on mine. My "not sick" charade, failed quickly when I stumbled dizzily back to my bed. His arms caught me, letting me get some balance. I gently pulled away from his arms, sitting back down on the edge of my bed.
"Bella, are you feeling alright?" I looked away quickly. Worried and Edward did not go together. So I lied.
"I'm fine. I just stumbled, that's all." The look he gave me told me, that he didn't buy my lie at all. I swallowed nervously. Ow. "Ok..so I'm not fine." He seemed to sit up straighter, possibly in potential panic.
"What's wrong?" Worry and concern was written all over his face. I shrugged.
"I'm just sick. A cold or something." He shook his head at me.
"No that's not what I meant. I mean what's wrong? What hurts?" I knew my answer would only make him worry more, but...
"Everything. My head, my throat feels like it's on fire. And my lungs-"
"What do they feel like? On a scale from one to ten how b-" Woah woah, slow down! I put my hand up, trying to stop him from his massive questions.
"Edward, they aren't going to burst. They're just weighed down with mucus. It does make it difficult to breathe, though."
"You're having trouble breathing?" Maybe I should have phrased that differently. His fingers clutched the arms of the chair so tight, it surprised me that it didn't crumble from his strength.
"Only a little bit." The over-worried, somewhat frantic look in his eyes made me swallow nervously. Ow.
"Perhaps I should take you to the hospital." Ugh. No no no. The last thing I needed was unnecessary actions. His eyes were reckless in worry.
"Edward relax. This isn't Spanish Influenza, here." It seemed impossible for him to tone down, and just be calm. His eyes went from worry to pain, from memories this probably brought back for him. In that instant, I felt like a huge jerk.
"Colds can kill people Bella. I should know." I smiled. My throat's fire prickling its way along the sides, I tried clearing it with a cough. Ow.
"I know you know." My voice, still raspy, was becoming hoarse, reducing itself to a scratchy whisper. I tried clearing it again. "But this isn't 1918."
Edward sighed, he seemed frustrated. "I know that Bella. But something like a cold shouldn't be underestimated." I felt an ice cold hand, press lightly on my forehead. It felt nice. "You're burning up. Have you taken anything?" I nodded, making the room spin. Dizzily, I grabbed onto his arm for support, until everything settled down, and quit spinning.
"I think I should lay down..." My words were drowlsy slurred together, but I knew his perfect ears had heard me. He layed on the bed, pulling me to his chest, the coldness of him seeped through his cotton shirt. It felt so good. I tried concentrating on how nice he felt, cooling me off, since I doubted I would be able to sleep. I rested my head on his shoulder, trying to relax, and ignore the stinging that came from my throat.
"Feel better?" His arms tightened, slightly bringing me closer.
"Ah..I uh.." It cracked so badly, my voice. I couldn't make any words form. I soon felt glass press against my lips, cool water flowing in my mouth, letting me swallow without pain. Had Edward even gotten up? Or maybe I was so out of it, I hadn't noticed.
Hours passed and I hadn't slept during any of them. Even the numerous amounts of water filled cups I'd drank hadn't helped, much.
"Bella, love." His voice broke me from my daze, I turned my neck slightly so he knew I was paying attention. "I'm sorry if I panicked. I suppose it was pretty foolish for me to get so worked up. I just don't like seeing you so uncomfortabl, and knowing there isn't much I can do about it." He didn't have to do anything. This was enough. Knowing he cared about me this much, was enough. I was content with this. "But I can do something now." I wanted to tell him not to worry, that this was more than enough for me, and that he didn't have to try so hard. I moved my neck upward, resting my hand on his face.
"I appre.." A gross, huge mucus covered cough, escaped my throat, destroying the calming effect the water had given me, igniting all the flames back to where they had started. "I appreciate your concern for me. But, the macabre kind of flu you had is nothing like what I have. It's just a cold." And it was, to my judgments, something he shouldn't be so worried about. Of course, going through something as horrible as the Spanish Influenza, isn't anything you'd forget, but surely he had to realize that was centuries ago. My voice, having been reignited, blazed with every word, determined to set my whole body on fire.
To emphasize my point (and to try and calm him down, even if it was the tiniest bit) I brought my lips to his, putting enough pressure on them, to hopefully let him know that I'd be alright. But my body lacked energy and I slumped against him, exhausted and immobile. My eyes grew heavy, and darkness enveloped my mind, drifting off to a slumber.
Heh-hau-heh.
Henh-hau-heh-hugh.
Heh...hengh-hau-hugh-hugh.
Who's terrible...horrible ragi breathing was this? Edward's? Mine? I opened my eyes. My chest moved and I realized the horrible breathing, was coming from me. Why was it so bad and steadily quickening? Wait. I blinked a few times. There was no way this was in my bed. This was far too comfortable and strong for it to be.
"Edward?" It was so dark. I could barely make him out. But I saw his eyes lock onto mine. I tensed a little, noting that the too comfortable place, was his arms. I clutched myself to his shirt, slightly panicked. "Edward? Where are we? What's...going on?" The things whizzing past us in a blur didn't look familiar. His eyes looked away from me, straight ahead.
"I'm taking you to the hospital Bella. You're more sick than you thought." I tensed a little more. It didn't mean he had to carry me there. "You'll be alright, love. I'll get you there, I promise." I couldn't say anything. My throat had gone stiff when he'd said 'more sick' and air was getting trapped, making me breathe unevenly. I soon weny back into a subliminal state, as darkness took another hold on me, everything going black.
When I came to, the first thing I noticed was how still I'd become. No movenment meant no arms, no arms meant no Edward. Everything was dark and my eyes were acting as if they were meropia. Everything was in a bad blur, the colours being fairly identifiable. My hearing began to weave out, and I noticed there were voices--people, near me. They hummed at first, fuzzy, until they became louder and easier to hear. "Will she be alright?" Someone said. I knew this voice. My eyes strained themselves as I forced them to make sense of the coloured blur of a body to my left. "She will be, once the doctors can give her some more antibiotics. But for now, she should rest." The blur next to me nodded, shifting what I guessed was a chair, closer to me. My eyes were slits, only halfway open. Glossy and confused. That's when I felt something wonderful slide into my hair, and stroke it.
"Bella?" The voice sounded anxious. "Bella can you hear me? Are you there?"
'Of course I'm here' is what I wanted to say, but my throat was burning, not as bad as before, but it still hurt. Ow. The hand in my hair felt nice, the rythmatic stokes becoming their own pattern, weaving through my strands gently. I swallowed a few more times, ignoring the pain that followed.
"Edward?" I managed to whisper.
"Bella...are you alright? Do you hurt at all?" So, it was Edward. I should've known. My hand went to my throat, as if it would stop the fire, and put it out. It didn't, but thankfully Edward knew what I needed, and a cup of water was in my hands within seconds.
"How are you feeling?" I felt his hands lay leisurely on my lap.
"Fine, I guess."
"I called Charlie for you. He's been here for a while, but I told him to go home and rest, since I didn't think you'd wake up for a while."
I nodded, still drinking my water. Charlie could handle one night without me cooking. There were leftoevers in the fridge, so he didn't concern me. What did concern me was what happened to me. "What's wrong with me?" I asked, setting the empty plastic cup, on the table that connected to the bed. "Why is everything so dark and blurry?" Edward shifted, glancing over his shoulder, then bringing his face back to me, taking my left hand in his.
"It's dark because the lights are dimmed. You must be pretty exhausted, so that could explain the blurryness." He played with my fingers gently. I tried to scoot up, to sit straighter.
"Yeah. Ok. But what's going on? I mean, do I have a cold or what?" He shifted again, looking somewhat nervous.
"The doctors think that you might have Atypical Pneumonia." He didn't play with my fingers anymore.
"Aty..what?" What the heck was that? Was it bad? Deadly? Was I going to die?
"Atypical Pneumonia." he repeated. "It's a type of pneumonia that isn't caused like most cases. Antibiotics should help." What the heck was he talking about? It's not like I'd been to Medical school twice, like he had. "For the most part, I'm sure you'll be okay, but it could turn into something more. Something worse." Well, gee. That sure does make feel better. I frowned, glaring at him.
"Y'know, that's not really helping." Atleast lie to me, or something.
"Sorry, I know it must sound pretty bad. Probably worse, since I'm still worried about you." Why? I'm safe now. I'm with you now.
"What do you mean 'still'? I thought I was going to be fine." The hand that was playing with my fingers moments earlier, went into it's owners hair, ruffling it messily, before taking hold of my hand again.
"It's not so much for now. I meant before you woke up. You really frightened me, love."
One of my eyebrows arched. "Go on." He did look a bit...off, to be honest. Unsettled in some sort of way.
"Well, I thought you weren't going to wake up. Your breathing became really laboured, and your fever went up. For a few minutes your breath got short, and I thought I was going to lose you." His grip on my hand tightened, showing his worry. It began to hurt a little, but I didn't say anything. "I was debating on whether or not to change you right then and there." His grip loosened. He had almost changed me. A part of me strongly wished that he had so I could look worthy to be with him. But a part of me was also grateful that he hadn't. The scenarios of what would have happened if he had, played in my head. I felt myself yearn and retreat for it.
"Bella? I've probably scared you haven't I? I'm sorry it's ju-"
"No." The scenario was starting to go away, to be thought of some other time. "No." It made me a little sad to see it go since, I could have been living it, hours ago. "I'm not scared. Just...happy, I guess." Edward gave me a baffled look. "Happy to know you'd take care of me." But I knew he would. He would do anything for me. He was my entire world as I was his. "Really, I'm the one who should be apologizing. Must've given you a heart attack."
He chuckled, letting my hand go and moving it into my hair. "You have no idea." I smiled, a little, enjoying the good feeling his hand did to my hair. I still felt bad about worrying him so much though.
"I'm sorry." I mumbled, a little ashamed.
"About the almost heart attack? I'm just jesting, of course."
Of course, I knew that. Even if it was possible, I don't think I'd be able to give a dead heart a heart attack. "No. Well, yes, but...I know this must have brought back..scary memories." I didn't know how much of his human life Edward remembered. But I knew the memories he probably had weren't the best. As I realized this, I immeadiatly felt guilty and worried I had made him downcast. "It did didn't it? Oh God, Edward! I'm so sorry I-" His eyes cut me off.
"Bella, it's not your fault. Getting sick is normal, it's not something you could control. I'm not blaming you." If it helped then blame me. Go right ahead. I don't care. Just so long as it pushes those memories away. He moved his hand out of my hair and gently squeezed my hand.
"So I did give you bad memories.." Maybe I was just getting hyped up and didn't really do anything wrong. My mind wanted me to be wrong. I wanted it to be wrong.
"You didn't. You could never give me a bad memory."
His franticness and attempt to subject change didn't convince me. "Then my sickness gave you bad memories." If that was what was making him so downcast and weird, I would do anything to never get sick again. So I wouldn't have to see that pained look in his eyes.
"It made me think about a few things." Few things or everything? "But you're different. Your sickness is different. I didn't feel bad at all." His thumb stroked the side of my hand, while his other layed--more like gripped--his knee.
I almost snorted. "You're not as good a liar as you think you are. Y'know that?" He could have been telling the truth, but my gut made me think otherwise.
"You think I'm lying?" Right now, yes. "You think I would lie to you?" Ugh, the way his eyes were looking at me, made me wish I had never said anything. They made me want to have kept silent and never doubt what he had said. They-
"Well...you're right." I blinked twice. Edward...my Edward. Looked like he was on the brink of tears--if he could cry, that is. I knew he'd lied to me before (for good reasons, apparently) but this was completely different. This lie was protecting him, not me. My free hand began to shake a little, as I thought about how I was crossing into things that ought not to be crossed. "I'm sorry I did, but I get kind of..defensive when it comes to certain things." Kind of? The last time we'd spoken about something he didn't want to think of, he sliced the TV in half. "I couldn't help it. I know I shouldn't compare you to my parents...or me. I guess I'm being foolish to think that way. Idiotic, to say the least." He gripped his knee even tighter than before.
"Edward? ...Edward." I took his hand off his knee, and held it in my hands. I tried to give him a reassuring smiled. "Just...forget it, okay? All that matters is that you're here with me, by my side, and that I'll be fine. I'll get better." My lips met his hand softly.
"Yes." He seemed to come out of his downcast bubble, reassuring more to himself, rather than me. He kissed me gently. "That's what matters most" I returned his with a kiss of my own, not wanting it to end, but my lungs made it clear that I needed to breathe. He pulled me away a little, but I kissed his cheek before I could be fully settled back. I smiled as I looked at him.
"I'll be better in no time."