She felt weightless as Sam carried her out of the forest and into the safety of her father's arms, but couldn't muster the energy to clasp her arms around his neck. Three days starving yourself and laying still as the dead would do that to a person.

The warmth of his embrace was replaced by the hard lumpiness of the living room couch. It wasn't much worse than the floor of the forest. Warmer here. The skin of her face was numb with cold. She couldn't feel her father's fingers skim over her cheeks, brushing the damp hair from her face.

"Bella? Can you hear me?"

Of course she could hear him, but she didn't answer. Answering took energy. Energy she no longer had. Shivers began to wrack her body in seizure-like tremors. Warm blankets were piled on top of her, adding sweat to the dampness of her rain-soaked clothes. Sue put more blankets in the dryer, replacing the old ones with steaming hot dry ones.

The warmth was bliss and Bella's eyes drifted shut, taking her into deep black. The black enveloped her for a short while, and then the dreams started. Screams woke her from her slumber. Some blankets lay in a tangled heap on the floor, the remaining blankets trapping her flailing arms.

Charlie shot up from his recliner, half asleep, to console her, but the screams continued. She was only partially aware that the screams came from her own mouth.

"Shh...shhhh...baby girl, it's okay. It's alright. I've got you."

The words had no consolation in them. The arms she wanted wrapped around her had no warmth in them. She wanted the cold to return. Something to remind her that he was real. That they all were.

Whispers faded into the background.

"Should really see a doctor."

"Hypothermia."

"Medication."

It didn't matter. The couch was becoming a part of her and she was molding herself to its form. She was stuffing and upholstery and creaking springs. Nothing more. Never more.

The sensation of lifting made her head swim. Something smooth and cold was pressed to her lips. "Drink this." The water pooled in her mouth, then spilled out of the corners onto her shirt. She wasn't sure if her eyes were open or shut, if she was awake or asleep. It didn't matter anyway. Sleep brought nightmares. Awareness brought reality. Either way, it was her own personal hell.

The sun rose and fell, blinding her with its brightness. Nothing had shape or form. It was either light or dark.

"You need to eat, Bells." A spoonful of soup was pressed to her lips. She let it dribble out again. No energy. No hunger.

"Bells, please," a choked sob pleaded with her. The spoon reached her lips again. Again, the steaming concoction ran out of her mouth and onto her makeshift bib. More sobs. More pleading. A kiss on her forehead. It reminded her of another kiss on her forehead. Cool lips pressing goodbye into her mind. She sank further into her abyss.

"Hospital."

"No other choice."

Movement. Lifting. More movement. It felt like gliding. Pinching pain in her arm. An I.V. drip? Clarity came and went in waves, mostly went.

"Rehydrated."

"Medication."

"No improvement."

People came and went. Everyone held her hand. Everyone begged her to return to them. Tried to guilt her into coming back.

"Please wake up. It's killing Charlie to look at you waste away."

"Bells, please come back to us. It's not the same without you."

Some voices she recognized. Some she didn't. They were all irrelevant anyway.