-Obviously, I do NOT own Twilight. Or Harry Potter. I do possess more chores than I'd really like to do. –

Author's Note:

This one is just a mini chapter. It's the last of this segment, but don't worry – it's not the end.

Chapter 4

Why is it that almost anywhere you go you can recognize a hospital room as soon as you open your eyes? The same bland, sterile décor, that same medicinal chemical scent. The crinkly sheets would be a dead giveaway even if you were unable to see the rest.

My mind was pleasantly blank, and I drifted on an undulating sea of painkiller haze. Little tidbits of conversation wafted through my world, as insubstantial as the air that carried them. The words were tiny, floating butterflies. Misty words about some poor person's punctured lung, a concussion, internal bleeding, self defense and a guilty plea. Moved in the night was dancing around father. I tried to make sense of the whole mess, but hadn't made any decisions when a woman's unrecognizable face spread across my view. She mumbled something about a dosage from far away. I tried to ask her to make the butterflies hold still but the words wouldn't come. My body was not my own, but that was okay. A moment later warmth climbed through my veins and I peacefully slid away.

Somewhere, an alarm clock or other aggravating beeping device was going to get pummeled. Just as soon as I was awake enough to find it. And something to smash it with. Thoroughly. Maybe if I ignored it long enough, it would go away and I could go back to sleep. I groaned, reaching for my pillow to pull it over my head.

My arms caught, stinging pinpricks and tape. I opened my eyes and blearily discovered I was covered in wires and IV tubes. Right. Hospital. That'd explain the beeping. One of my nurses must be sadistic, because the blinds were wide open to a bright, sunny day. But – was that – yes, it definitely was. Someone, somewhere nearby, had coffee. I rubbed my hands over my face and tried to sit up. Searing pain shot through my chest and abdomen, and I immediately relaxed back onto the bed, coughing weakly. Okay, sitting up, not my best idea ever. Won't do that again. I patted around searching for a call button. Hospital beds always have some kind of call button, right? Somewhere? If I could find it, maybe someone would bring me coffee. Wires… more wires… I don't even want to know what that is… hmm. Bandaging. I lifted the sheets and peered down at myself. Even under the hospital gown I could tell my ribs were taped. Okay, that explains the pain. At least some of it. I furrowed my brow, trying to remember how I had managed the broken ribs this time. It was there, just hovering on the edge of my mind, just out of reach.

Was it just my imagination, or was the coffee smell getting stronger? No, it definitely was. I heard the soft click of a door opening somewhere down by my feet. In my mind, I asked eloquently for an explanation of my current condition and location, to acquire some of this ambrosial liquid, and who was at the door. What actually came out sounded more like someone choking a giraffe. Soft footsteps hurried to my bedside. I knew that face! Wavy drifting nurse. She gently patted my shoulder.

"Shhh, honey, don't try to talk. We just took the ventilator tube out this morning, you're going to be sore for a while. You're in the hospital." Thanks lady, I couldn't figure that part out and it was really eating at me.

"I know you must be pretty confused right now. You've been out for a while, and the doctor put you on some pretty strong pain medication. It's December 24th. You've been here almost a week. You've been awake a few times, but you probably don't remember very well. You're going to be okay." Good to know. "My name is Abby, I've been taking care of you. You have two broken ribs and one punctured your lung. There was also some internal bleeding. We had to operate, but we fixed it. You had a mild concussion, and there's stitches in your lip. Don't try to move around too much just yet. We've called your father – Charlie? And he should be here soon. Now I'm going to get you some water and you just try to sip a little."

The bed motor hummed as Abby raised my head. It did hurt, not as badly as trying to sit up on my own, but not exactly a sunshine and daisies kind of thing either. Abby held a cup out for me with a tiny straw, and I obediently swallowed a tiny sip. For being a smooth liquid, water could feel remarkably like swallowing ground glass. It took a few attempts to make it go down.

"Renee?" I rasped. Renee was usually around when I woke up. Usually hung over and half delirious, but around.

Abby's eyes told me what her words would not. Sadness. Something had happened to Renee. I tried to sit up again, immediately concerned. She may have been a pretty useless mother, but she was my mother and the only one I had. Without her, it was just me and Phil. I needed her.

"It's alright honey, settle down. She's okay, as far as we know."

"As far…?"

"We haven't found her." Ah. Well, Phil wouldn't have been smart or sober enough to cover it up if he'd hurt her, so she was probably fine wherever she was. I wondered if she even knew I was in the hospital, or if she'd wander home from some barefoot walk through the wilderness in a few days stinking of patchouli and marijuana with no idea where everyone was. I wondered if she'd look for me. Maybe. She was equally likely to decide I had turned into the pretty bird sitting on the windowsill.

Phil… boots. I gasped, feeling the bile well up in my raw throat. Phil had put me here. The boots, the belt – Edward! Where was Edward? Where was Emmett?

"Edward!"

"Is that your friend honey?" Was Edward my friend? I suppose you'd call it that. If it was possible to go from being nothing to everything so quickly, but I didn't know what he thought of us as. If there even could be an 'us'. I nodded.

"He's alright. He tried to come see you, you know, while you were out. We haven't been able to allow any visitors yet though." Edward had been here. For me.

Before I could ask any more questions, there was a timid knock on the frame of the open door.

"Alright to come in?" Gruff, reserved, possibly embarrassed. I knew that voice.

"She's awake. Come right on in, Chief Swan." Charlie. I fought down the tears threatening to well up. It had been two years with no word from my father. We'd never been close, thanks to Renee's antics, but Charlie had always been my father. My rock.

"Char – Dad" I squeaked hoarsely.

"Izzy." I'd never heard Charlie's voice crack like that. He never was one to show emotion. I shook my head, cringing. I never wanted to hear that name again. Even from Charlie it sounded toxic.

"Bella." Izzy is gone. Call me Bella.

Author's Note:

So, over 40 viewers and nobody has reviewed? Anyone?

Look for the next chapter to be out soon, it should be longer again.