A/N: I own nothing.

EPOV

I thanked all my lucky stars for remembering to grab my jacket before I left the house. Because I was still wet from my previous late night activities, and it was raining like a bitch. I got to Bella's car right, catching the door before she could slam it shut. I noticed how soaked she was, and felt my remorse bubbling back up for driving her away. But how the hell was I supposed to know she was going to react like this?

Stubbornly she held on to it, trying to close the door even. I think most of her strength came from wanting to wedge my fingers. "Let go," she said to me through clutched teeth.

"You let go." I tightened my hold on the door, using my resolve to opening the door all the way, forcing Bella to let go of it.

I saw her eyes get wider and red from the fury, and I braced myself for an attempt at a physical attack. Because I could all but see it in her face as she stared at me. As I saw her start the ignition while I still held the door, I grabbed her arm trying to push her out of the car. When she didn't budge, I reached for the car keys in the ignition and turned around to head back in the direction of the house. Because this was pretty fucking childish and I had no intention of dealing with her if she was going to behave like this. So if she wanted to go home, she would just have to do it on foot, under heavy rain.

I was barely half way back to the house when I heard what could only be described as a grunt coming out of Bella's throat, which I arrogantly took as a sign of victory. I was feeling pretty smug until I hear a loud thud and a wail of pain coming from behind me. Stunned, I turned around to find Bella on the floor with her hands around her left ankle, trying to use the truck as leverage to get up.

Yeah. I felt like a piece of shit. I ran up to her as soon as I was able to react and I held onto Bella from behind, putting my hands underneath her arms. "How bad?" I wanted to ask does it hurt, but I felt it was a pretty stupid question considering the look in her face.

"Get your hands off of me."

I cursed myself again for being an asshole to her. I could have just ignored her when I arrived tonight, but I had to go and fuck things up. And now Bella was injured and I had no clue how bad. I knew if I could get her inside I would be able to tell how bad it was, but I didn't want to move her until I was sure it wasn't broken. "Just tell me how bad" I pleaded, trying to see through the rain.

"Not too bad." I could see by her face that wasn't completely true, but I admired her bravery. So rather than forcing the truth out of her, I nodded and put my arm around her, trying to carry as much of her weight as I could. "Just hold on to me."

She half walked, half hopped back into the house, and I tried sitting her down as gently as possible on the couch in the living room. I removed her shoe and her sock gently, trying not to do more damage than good, and I sighed when I saw her ankle. It had swollen and there was some slight bruising surrounding it. I pressed my fingers to her foot and her leg just above her ankle. "Does this hurt?" She eyed me dubiously, but shook her head. I could tell I wasn't going to get out of that one easily.

I wasn't exactly a doctor, and I didn't have intentions of becoming one. Still, my foster dad was a good doctor and I had grown in a house with athletic men. There had been plenty of sprained ankles in this house over the years, and I felt pretty confident that I would be able to take care of it on my own. I kept telling myself it had nothing to do with having to explain why Bella had gone to the hospital ten minutes after I was supposed to watch her.

I made my way to the kitchen to get an ice pack and on my way back I grabbed a few pillows that I placed underneath her foot. I left for the bathroom, looking everywhere for the first aid kit. When I found it under the sink, I took out some bandages and pain medicine and met Bella in the exact same position lying down on the sofa. When she looked quizzically at me as I placed her hurt foot on my knee to have a better access to bandage it, I stopped. "You sprained your ankle. I'm going to use this to compress the ankle so it doesn't swell anymore."

She didn't look any more confident in what I was doing, but she must have been in enough pain that she nodded. I kept my eyes fixed on her ankle, making sure it was well wrapped. When I was done I placed her foot back on the pillows.

I saw her little arms trying to ease me away and I had to stifle a laugh. I handed her the ice pack and the medicine. "Here. It'll help the pain."

She looked at me up and down, probably considering if I would use this moment to give her medicine for constipation. Either she was in too much pain or she decided I was trustworthy. But she took the pill hesitantly and swallowed it, even without water. It reminded me she probably hadn't even eaten yet. "Are you hungry?"

I saw the look of utter shock in her eyes and I had to bite my tongue not to reply. Because I had been an ass before, but I was taking care of her now, wasn't I? She shook her head fiercely. "No. You don't have to do this. I'm fine."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Just wait here."

BPOV

I heard Edward's voice coming from the kitchen and I wondered if he was on the phone or if he was talking to himself. I grimaced in pain when I looked at my ankle. I was officially the clumsiest person alive. Of course I could have told Edward my left ankle was my weak link. Any little thing and it would give out on me, which happened once every few months. But I had been so angry at him when he took my car keys all I could think about was throwing my suitcase at his head and hoping it would be enough to crack it open.

I saw Edward coming back with a plate filled with chicken and pasta with heat coming off of it and I literally heard my stomach growl. Because it had been so long since I had eaten that I was starting to feel sick. I thanked him and took the plate from his hands eagerly. I immediately dug in, eating happily, without noticing anything around me.

By the time I was done I heard a noise behind me and turned around to see Edward holding up a towel in my direction, obviously intended to dry myself off, and placing a cup of what I assumed was tea on the table in front of me.

"Edward, this is already too much." I sighed and pointed at my ankle. "I mean, this isn't even bad according to my standards, I get much, much worse all the time. You really don't need to do this."

I could tell he wasn't convinced. And to make matters worse, I knew he was feeling guilty. In another attempt to be the bigger person, I gestured for him to sit down. He did, far from me.

"Look," I started, moving around on the sofa to pick up my tea. As I warmed my hands with the heat from the cup of hot tea, I continued "So we didn't start the week well. It's not a big deal."

He emitted something like a snort and I knew he was biting back a snide remark again. I could see this was becoming a habit with us. I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm serious. I'm sorry I'm such a freaking klutz. I'm sorry I ruined your vacations. I'll stay out of your way."

He looked serious for a moment, and I feared what might come out of his mouth or if I even really wanted to know. I looked away, embarrassed at his silence, and took a long sip of my tea. I couldn't wait to leave and hide in the sanctuary of my bedroom, but I had no clue when it would be polite to pick up my sprained ankle, my wet clothes and my miserable self and leave.

"You didn't ruin my vacations."

I lifted my eyes to his abruptly. He had spoken so softly I wasn't even sure I had heard him correctly. "What?"

"You didn't ruin my vacations." He met my surprised gaze head-on. "Esme was going to tell Charlie you shouldn't be here until Sunday, and I stopped her. I told her I'd look out for you until they arrived."

I looked at my sprained ankle and thought about telling him nice job, but I wasn't about to let this moment of vulnerability pass me by.

"Why?"

Another moment of awkward, long silence filled the room. I tried to persuade him to tell me everything, anything that was going through his mind with my eyes.

"I don't know." He sighed deeply, looking at his hands. "I think I wanted to prove to myself I could do it."

I laughed. "Do what? Spend time with me and not kill me?" My laughs stilled when I realized from the expression in his face told me I wasn't far from the truth. I tried to hide the sadness from my face and my voice when I spoke. "Why? Why do you hate me so much? You never even tried to get to know me before you did."

He moved in his seat uncomfortably and took a long slow sip before he answered me. I knew he was deciding whether to tell me or not. "I don't remember. Why did you?"

He was lying. That much was obvious. This only made my mind wander through all the different possibilities. Did I remind him of his parents? Had I said something I shouldn't? When I arrived I had been in a near catatonic state as far as social interactions were concerned. I had no clue if I had accidentally hurt him. I forced my mind to take me back to the first time I saw him. It had been here, at the Cullen household, and we were both just scarred, damaged children. I remember being shy because I thought he had been the cutest guy I'd ever seen until then, so I blushed when Esme introduced us. But by then he was already rude, and he didn't even say "Hi" or "Nice to meet you". He left without a second look at me and since then, every year, I tried to stay the hell out of his way.

When I remembered the way I blushed when I first met him, I couldn't help but let a small, sad smile escape my mouth. He did have a cute face back them, with his wild hair flying in every direction and his eyes the color of the forests surrounding Forks. "I didn't hate you when I first met you. I started avoiding you because you treated me like crap. The hate part just grew naturally from it."

He smiled at my attempt at a joke, but his eyes narrowed and turned serious again. "I don't think that's true."

I gawked at him. "Believe me, it is." I thought about telling him that I had been attracted to him back then, but then I figured I shouldn't give him too much ammunition. Just because we were friendlier now it didn't mean we weren't going to go back to hating each other's guts.

He didn't look like he believed me yet, but I knew for a fact he was lying, so I didn't feel the need to beat myself up. I stifled a yawn, surprising myself with how tired I felt. I guess having an almost nervous breakdown and spraining your ankle really takes it out of you.

Before I could say anything, Edward had made his way from his seat across the room to me. He had his hand around my waist and was taking hold of my body, lifting me off the couch. I looked at him in question, waiting for an explanation. And I nearly freaking smiled at the look in his eyes. Because it had clearly been a reflex reaction, which he never would have done if he had thought it through. He immediately let go of me and took a step back, thrusting his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, avoiding looking at my face again. "Do you want help? Getting to your room, I mean?" He pointed at my ankle as he spoke, but I didn't need him to remind me of my disability. The thing still hurt like a bitch.

It was really inviting to say no, but as I turned my head to look at the amount of stairs that led up to the guest room, I sighed. Because I could do it, and I would be able to do it, but not without some major effort on my part. And being the ultimate klutz I would probably end up falling down the stairs and spraining my other ankle. Deciding to take advantage of our truce while it lasted, I nodded. "Just to the top of the stairs, please?"