A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! Unfortunately, there's a little more sadness for polkadotward before things get better.
Chapter 3: An ambulance can only go so fast
EPOV
It's funny . . . I've often had people tell of me of events or moments in their life when time seemed to stand still, when they felt paralyzed by what was going on such that the earth stopped spinning. But I'd never believed them because I knew there was nothing that could stop my own world, that could withdraw me from my own needs. Until now . . .
As soon as my eyes saw the car hit her, I knew the earth's axis had been completely tipped over. I was paralyzed and I opened by mouth to scream but nothing came out.
Again my feet moved faster than my brain and I was running to her. The car sped off and I felt as if my ears had gone super sensitive because I could literally hear her skin bruise and scrape as she hit the street, skidding across it. I heard her bones crushing even above the sound of my own heart breaking.
I reached her body and my hands instinctively went out as if to touch her--but for the first time in my life, I didn't know what to do.
I heard a commotion behind me and my head snapped back, anxious to find help.
Rosalie and the muscle man were in front of the crowd, running toward me.
"Don't touch her." Muscle head told me, and anger rose up in me dissolving my former feelings of terror.
"What do you know about it?" I practically yelled, not leaving my crouching position next to her body, wanting to shield her from all of these prying eyes.
"Edward, he's a paramedic. We already called 911 but he can help, until they arrive." Rosalie said, surprisingly gentle and calm.
I turned back to her body, ghosting my hands over her because I couldn't actually touch her even though I want to and also trying not to wince at the blood rushing out of a large cut on her forehead. I felt so helpless.
"Take a deep breath, man. Did you see what happened?" It was the oaf again, also sounding surprisingly calm. Was I the only one here in a panic?
"Who are you anyway? Awfully convenient for you to be here, isn't it?" I asked, my anger simmering at the surface.
"Whoa, I don't know what you're talking about. I was just in there enjoying the show . . . hoping to finally swallow my pride tonight and talk to Rosie," he glanced back at Rosalie with a smile that lighted his entire face when he said her name, "but we heard a terrible crashing sound and ran outside to see you here . . and her." He finished, pointing down at the body.
"We called 911 but I figured I could survey the scene until they get here . . . I do drive an ambulance and I'm an EMT," he confirmed, pointing back at himself to his uniform as if this should all make complete sense.
"Wait, Rosie?" I let out a nervous laugh, looking at Rosalie who definitely had a sparkle in her eye even though the oaf had called her by a name that she had punched men in the face for calling her in the past.
I heard shallow, ragged breaths and cursed myself for even turning away from her for a second. And then I heard the sirens, the sound growing increasingly closer. At least she's still alive, I told myself, as if that were any consolation.
I didn't even know I was crying until I could feel my shirt wet with tears, clinging to my chest.
The ambulance came to a screeching halt next to the crowd and I could hear the chaos mounting around me but I drowned it out, focusing all my energy on her. I wanted to grab her hand but then the paramedics were there talking to "Rosie's paramedic" and he informed them of the accident. I was being asked to step aside like I didn't belong here, like they could just take her away from me without consequence.
They put her on a backboard, strapping some awful contraption around her neck and lifting her into the back of the ambulance. I noticed the moonlight bounce off her incredibly long eyelashes and I looked up. I would have prayed if I thought it would have helped.
I couldn't bear to watch them situate her in the ambulance and yet I didn't dare take my eyes off her lest something else happen. I could just see those assholes dropping her or jostling her even thought I assumed that was exactly what the backboard and neck contraption were supposed to help prevent.
Her eyes were still closed and she actually looked . . . peaceful? No that wasn't right . . . how could she be peaceful covered in dried blood with bruises blooming just under her snow white skin? Her skin was almost translucent in its paleness, and although I could guess that she bruised easily, it still made my heart ache to remember seeing her propelled across the pavement, her skin the only thing stopping the force of the car.
I wasn't sure I even wanted her to be conscious right now for I feared my heart couldn't take it if she was in that ambulance, staring at me – I had only seen her eyes full of delight, of shock, of wonder. To see them filled with pain would break me even more.
But still I stared at her through the small opening—one of the back doors of the ambulance was now closed as the paramedics readied to leave—and I was instinctively drawn to her form sandwiched in between two paramedics checking her vitals. Me eyes rested on her chest so I could be sure she was still breathing . . . everything in me was attuned to her; it was like I was in pain, too.
It wasn't a question of whether or not I was going to follow the ambulance to the hospital—I was—but my concern was what I was going to do when I got there. It would be hard to tell them I was family if I didn't even know her name. And if I wasn't family, they wouldn't let me see her. I would be relegated to the waiting room, pacing the floor all night to find out how she was doing.
The anxiety of the situation was already taking over; my hands were shaking and I didn't even realize the ambulance had left until it was gone. It was unacceptable that I wouldn't be able to see her at the hospital. My hand was in my pocket then, my fingers clenched around my keys as I dug them out. Immediately, I was running to my car, when I tripped and fell.
Something must really be getting to me because I don't think I had ever tripped in my life. I was too aware of my surroundings. My palms stung and I welcomed the pain, hoping it would bring me back to reality so I could figure out what to do. I pushed my palms flat on the ground in spite of the pain, using my arms to stand up, when I felt something brush my right hand.
I glanced down and saw a woman's purse. Small, brown, tooled leather. Something about it called to me and even though I knew I needed to get up and get in my car—that I couldn't waste another minute like I had earlier tonight—I opened it up. A tiny, beat-up wallet fell out into my hand and since tonight was already going so well, I decided I should just unfold it. It had a plastic window for an ID and my fingers couldn't slide it out fast enough when I was realized it bore a picture of her.
And then I knew her name: Isabella Marie Swan I clutched the ID to my chest for a brief second as if it were a lifeline.
When I looked up, an outstretched hand obscured my vision.
"Need a hand?" The oaf asked, Rosalie peering over his shoulder.
"I'm fine," I said through clenched teeth, stuffing the wallet and ID back into the purse and scraping my hand again as I stood up, my other hand gripping its strap.
"Edward . . are you going to the hospital? I'm sure it was—well that it was difficult to see the accident but I'm sure the police will want to talk to you and," Rosalie started.
"Rosalie, spit it out . . . I need to get going to the hospital." I said, muttering my thoughts out loud . . . "if I can figure out which one." I cursed myself for not being faster; I couldn't even hear the sirens anymore.
"Mercy." Said the Oaf.
"What?" I asked, seriously annoyed by Rosalie and her new man-toy who were now definitely holding me up.
"They took her to Mercy Hospital . . . I don't know every paramedic but I my friend Sean was in that ambulance. Plus, it's the closest hospital from here."
"This is Emmett," said Rosalie gesturing to the oaf. "And, Edward, I've never seen you so shaken up—maybe you should let us drive you to the hospital?"
The oaf—er Emmett—reached his hand out again and I shook it, not looking at him but looking at Rosalie because I was trying to figure out what game she was playing at. She was never nice and especially never nice to another girl—she couldn't have suddenly developed concern for a stranger; it must be the oaf. My mind wandered to earlier when Emmett was talking to Isabella—did they know each other?
"Do you know Isabella?" I asked Emmett, now looking at him.
"Isabella? You mean Bella?" He said, smiling at me like he knew a secret.
"Why are we wasting time? I need to get to the hospital." I said, beyond aggravated at this point.
"You need to take a deep breath and relax, man. We're just trying to help you out . . . I know some people at Mercy and you look pretty bad . . . I thought it might be a good idea to give you a ride. Rosie told me how close you guys are and any friend of Rosie's is now a friend of mine." Emmett said, taking Rosalie's hand and squeezing it while he smiled at her.
"Whatever. Can we just get there tonight? I . . . I'm scared." I said, the weight of everything crushing down on me along with the need to just see her, Isabella—no, Bella—beautiful, how appropriate I thought . . . again . . . and as soon as possible.
A/N: Poor Edward--so frantic and sad. Thanks to Jenn, the best beta in the universe. Please review -- I'm writing chapter 4 in between updating this and it will make it go so much faster!! xo