A/N: it has been a while. Hopefully this chapter is worth the wait, as it has been revised and betaed (it IS a word. I just made it up.) by the lovely Springlily86.
Thanks again for the readers and reviewers.
Delirium
It's too bright. Curtain less windows don't shield the room from the rising sun and the snow white walls reflect all the light back to the only living occupant of the room – me. After forcing my eyes open for a tiny peek I notice that I am in a hospital. Having been fairly regular customer of said facility for nearly 27 years I don't need that many clues. As I'm trying to turn on my side to block the too bright and too hot sunlight I have my first clue as to why. It's as if someone has stabbed me on the right side of my stomach, turned the knife couple of times for good measure and then left it there. I can't help the agonized cry that escapes from my lips. My free hand – the one that is not attached to some annoying, beeping machine – flies without my permission to my belly.
"No, no, no, no..." My wailing echoes eerily in an otherwise empty room. I find the call button next to my pillow and press it. I need to know. I need to be sure... And beyond all things I need my Edward. The fact that it cannot be arranged doesn't make the need go away. It worsens it.
The door finally opens and a nurse comes in, followed shortly by a doctor. And not just any doctor, but Doctor Carlisle Cullen, who is holding my chart in a clipboard and talking to a cell phone. He smiles at me gently, before looking back at my chart and returning to his muted phone conversation.
"Hi, I'm Wendy", the nurse says, smiling a tight-lipped smile and I smile back meekly. My breathing is still a little short because of the pain and anxiety and I bite my cheek from the inside to prevent myself from whining aloud. After the first stabbing agony the pain is now settled to the right side of my abdomen to a pulsing, burning sensation.
"I see that you are in a bit of a pain", Wendy states, nodding towards my awkward position on the bed. "Unfortunately I can't give you any pain relief before the doctors have decided what to do."
I bit my lip and nod. What the hell am I supposed to say to a statement like that? 'Give me morphine; I don't care about the reason'? I think not.
Wendy takes my bedside chart and writes down some figures from the bleeping device next my head. "I wasn't able to get all your information straight when you were brought in last night – you were nearly unconscious and your friend couldn't tell much. He only mentioned that you are pregnant. Is that correct?
"Yes", I wince out. "Ten weeks along."
"Wendy?" Carlisle has finished his phone call and is now standing next to my bed, my back still party turned to him. I can't move from my pain.
"I can take it from here. Would you mind paging Dr Uley for me, please?"
"Certainly, Dr Cullen." Wendy throws me one more glance and exits. The moment the door closes behind her the atmosphere changes from stiff and professional to warm and familiar.
"Bella, darling", Carlisle says and presses a kiss to my heated cheek. "I came as soon as I heard! I'm so sorry you had to go through all that hassle in ER – they didn't know that you were my family and couldn't find anyone to call. Your next of kin is Edward and his cell is obviously unreachable and Jacob wasn't allowed to stay because he is not a relative of yours...so, long story shortly, they finally realized that we had a same last name and paged me."
I really don't care. I don't say that aloud, of course, not wanting to be rude, but still – water under the bridge. I feel a little bad for Jake, though. He must be insane with worry by now. Having me collapsing in his arms minutes after outing his emotions to me and learning that I was –
That I am pregnant. I am. Am I?
"Carlisle?" I ask in a small voice. "The baby?"
Carlisle lets out a deep sigh and I start to hyperventilate.
" Carlisle..."
"Sweetie, your baby's OK for now, as far as the ultra sound can tell. The heartbeat is steady and strong. You, on the other hand, Bella..." But I have stopped listening after his second sentence.
"There was a heart beat? Did you hear it? Can I hear it?"
"I'm sure that you will have a change to hear it after your surgery, Bella."
"Surgery?" I turn my body slowly towards my father in law. I notice that he has thrown his lab coat on the window sill and is wearing a slightly wrinkled shirt and dress pants. Clearly he is not on duty today. Poor man.
"Yes, Bella – the surgeon on call, Dr Gerandy, thinks you might have appendicitis. An inflammation of appendix."
"He thinks? Is he not sure about that?"
"Well, all your symptoms are pointing to it – nausea and vomiting, abdominal pain located to the right side, high temperature, your blood work – but the only way to confirm that is to open you up and have a look."
Huh. He must have talked to Esme. No one else knows about my all-day sickness – apart from...
"Edward! You haven't called there, have you?"
"No, no – no need to make him worry when he can do nothing about it." Carlisle says, comfortingly. "He will have my head, though, when he finds out", he adds wryly to himself. I don't doubt that. He would want to know.
"About that surgery, Carlisle – I don't want it if it's just some unnecessary diagnostic procedure. I won't risk the baby."
"That's the thing Bella – it's not just diagnostic. If it really is the appendicitis, it can very well be fatal for you and the baby if it's not operated on time, whereas removing the possibly innocent appendix has its risks, too, but it's definitely lesser of the two evils."
I feel like my head is spinning from worry. Looks like I don't have any options. But if there's even a small risk...
"I don't really see any other options here, Bella dear."
"Do I have to decide right now?"
"I'm afraid so. The longer the wait, the bigger the risk of perforation and peritonitis – and that's something you want to avoid, Bella. For both of you." Carlisle's tone is serious, but gentle.
I feel silent tears falling on my pillow and I don't even attempt to cover them. I'm starting to have a head ache from all the unknowns and the medical jargon I don't even want to understand.
"I know you're worried about the baby, dear. But your OB/GYN will be there throughout the whole operation just to monitor the foetus and there's a whole surgical and anaesthetic team looking after both of you." And like as an afterthought, he adds. "I'm sure that's what Edward would want you to do."
I sniff, a little annoyed – I haven't had a moment's doubt about his opinion. He would beg me to do anything to keep myself from danger. But the thing is – it's not me I'm worried about, at all. Sadly, it looks like there is no 100% safe alternative from the baby's point of view. I just have to go with the least bad. Somehow that doesn't make me feel very confident.
"Fine. Let's do the damn surgery", I finally groan. As from sheer delight of my decision, my abdomen cramps again with a mind-blowing force. I barely swallow my scream of pain.
Through my agony I feel Carlisle's cool hand on my cheek before he presses a soft kiss to my forehead.
"That's my girl. I'll get the nurse to give you some pain medicine. We are trying to get you to OR as soon as possible."
"Will you be there?" I pant pathetically as the convulsions run through my body.
"If you want me to."
"Please."
"See you on the other side then, Bella."
***
I absolutely hate IVs. It doesn't matter that Carlisle and Dr Gerandy have both sworn that there is no needle in IV cannula; apparently it has been taken off after the insertion – mere look at my bandaged hand connected to an IV line makes me feel all dizzy and nauseous. I'm very glad that I was already drowsy from the premedication when they inserted the damn thing. I only remember the weird smell and tiny stinging sensation in my right hand before blacking out.
Waking up has been a nasty experience of its own. Feeling completely disoriented, light-headed and weird and having to immediately endure the infuriatingly calm and soothing tones of the nurses and beeping and bleeping of the machines made me want to go back to sleep. Of course, the nurses in the Recovery room weren't having that. I needed to be poked, wiped and pinched and my pillows needed to be adjusted and my IV needed to be probed to a point that I actually considered screaming.
Carlisle saves me again. He saunters into the Recovery room with Dr Gerandy on his wake, both in their scrubs and wearing those funny surgical caps with ponies and rainbows. Or Carlisle is – I think wearing ridiculous headpieces is part of the job prescription of Paediatric Doctor. Or maybe it's just Carlisle. They both look quite relaxed and satisfied which lessens my own anxiety remarkably. Surely there can't be anything horribly wrong when even Dr "Pokerface-Billy" Gerandy is smiling.
"Hello, Bella", he greets me. "How are you feeling? I understand that you just woke up."
"I'm fine", I respond with my slightly hoarse voice. "Kind of thirsty, though."
Carlisle pours me a glass of water and hands it to me. "Start carefully, dear. We don't want to make you nauseous."
"SO? Did you find anything?" I ask after two sips of water. "Is everything..." I swallow the end of my question.
"We found a very red and swollen appendix . Quite a nasty inflammation."
"In English?"
Carlisle steps ahead and takes my free hand in both of his. "Bella, it was appendicitis, nearly perforated. It means that we weren't a minute too early."
My hands aren't steady anymore, so I lower the cup on the bedside table. I don't have to understand every word of theirs to get the tone. Carlisle sees the question in my eyes even though I can't bring myself to ask it.
"The baby is fine. Bill removed the appendix and managed to avoid damaging the uterus – it wasn't even close to the place he was operating. Dr Uley – Emily – was happy with the outcome, too. She will see you both later today."
I let out a huge sigh of relief and without my permission it turns into a sob. Dr Gerandy – or "Bill" – shifts uncomfortably on his feet, but Carlisle just presses a kiss on my forehead. He is still holding my other hand in his and gives Bill a significant glance. Bill clears his throat.
I hear him explaining some gross details about the surgery, which I frankly want to know nothing about, and reminds me about the risk of a premature childbirth and then says again something disgusting about my wound. I can't bring myself to care about any of those things at the moment – the most important thing is that I will soon hear my child's heartbeat for the very first time.
His voice falls to the background of my mind, which is currently filled with much more pleasant thoughts. Relief over the successful surgery mixed with some of the wonderful drugs they have been giving me lulls me quickly to sleep. I let the dreams take me to my happy place.
Esme hadn't arrived yet when we stepped back to the house, so we just waited in the living room. It was just as beautifully decorated as the rest of the house; beautiful, light-coloured textiles and the fluffy, comfortable sofas and armchairs created a nice, calming atmosphere. The room was like Esme: graceful, soft and classy.
We sat down on one of the sofas in front of an open fire place. Edward sat right next to me and I felt a pang of disappointment when he let go of my waist. It was quickly replaced by thrilling excitement when he grabbed my hand in his and casted a shy smile at me. Alice plopped herself down on to an ottoman. She kept throwing sideway glances at us, more specifically at Edward, like preparing for another outburst. I was blissfully unaware about everything else than our intertwined fingers and his thumb stroking mine. I struggled to keep my breathing even and fought the huge smile that threatened to split my face.
"I thought that you wanted to get Bella something to eat", Alice said pointedly to her brother after a short silence.
"NO!" I nearly shouted. The last thing I wanted was to let go of his hand even for a moment. "I'm fine, really." I felt my now permanent blush deepen a little. Edward gave my fingers a little squeeze and asked with a worried crease between his eyebrows:
"Are you sure? I mean, our Mom should be home pretty soon, but I'm sure there are some fruits in the kitchen…"
"Edward, I'm fine – I can wait until the dinner." I felt a pleasant shiver run down my spine when I said his name. I had no idea what had happened to the Edward who had mere twenty minutes ago commanded me out of his room – not that I missed him in the slightest. I was perfectly content to have this sweet, caring boy in his place. I just felt a little bad for Alice, who I was now neglecting for her brothers benefit. She didn't seem to mind, though, but sit happily on her seat by our feet and chatted away with him. I didn't pay particular attention to the topic, absorbed as I was to the all consuming happiness that seemed to radiate from the place where our hands were joined.
Apparently Emmet didn't plan to come to dinner as he had plans with his girlfriend – that was all I caught from their vivid conversation. I wondered absent-mindedly if Edward would someday call me his girlfriend - and what that would feel like. Could it be that much different from the position I currently occupied, "a friend" – after all, there was only one word's difference? I was absolutely positive that it would make all the difference in the world.
The dinner at the Cullen's was surreal experience, to say the least. Although the facilities and setting was fitting even to royalty, the occasion was surprisingly relaxed and lacked all kinds of formality.
Carlisle was a gracious host, who greeted me literally with open arms. Esme clearly enjoyed her role as a head chef and a hostess, but at the same time chatted away with her children and husband, scolded to her son for teasing his sister, talked into her cell phone to a client and rearranged the plates and the silverware so that Edward could sit next to me.
He hadn't let go of my hand at all, as if he was afraid that I would run away if he'd do that. As if. We didn't talk much – not to each other, that is. Alice seemed perfectly happy to sit opposite of us and apart from a few sideway glances to our hands, she didn't acknowledge our handholding at all.
Finally we had to tear our fingers apart – to eat. Both of us seemed to chew their meals rather quickly and soon our hands were clasped together again. The sensation was like coming home. Breathing felt easier and world looked brighter when he was touching me. And of course, there was the electric current which remained even when we weren't holding hands and caused the air around us to ripple and twist.
Sometime after the dinner I startlingly realized that it was quite late already – and I still needed the ride home. Edward felt me tense by his side on and asked what was the matter.
"It's just getting late", I said, looking at him for the first time for what seemed like hours.
"Do you want me to drive you home?" he asked and his voice sounded oddly hopeful and disappointed at the same time.
"If it's not too much trouble."
With that he stood up and pulled me on my feet as well. Alice came to give me a hug and when I was close enough, she whispered:
"It was lovely meeting you. Thank you for forgiving him. He's an ass, but fortunately he knows that himself. " I blushed and said aloud:
"Thank you for calling me today, Alice, and for your help. You're a really good friend."
She beamed to me like a sun and demanded me to call her tomorrow – apparently we were going to go shopping. I promised to call and gave her one last hug before letting Edward lead me to the lobby to get my coat. He helped it on me, which felt weird and kind of old fashioned but also adorable as hell. It was like he'd known instinctively how to lure his way into my heart. I was ridiculously in love with him and for the first time I felt that maybe, just maybe, he might have felt something back.
The drive to my house was silent – a very different kind of silent that I had ever experienced in his company. It was comfortable, but at the same time loaded with electricity and anticipation. Edward held my hand on top of the centre console and somehow the small gesture felt more intimate in the confines of his car than it was earlier in the house with his family. Looking straight at his face felt too bold, so I just stared at our intertwined fingers, stroking his thumb with mine lightly.
The journey ended much too soon, without either of us breaking the silence. He killed the engine and slowly turned to face me. I blushed under his blazing gaze and at the same time felt myself drowning into his green pools. And in equally slow motion he closed the gap between our faces and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was soft and sweet and absolutely perfect . I felt my lips part without my permission and his tongue gliding against my lower lip. Our hands were still clasped together and my free hand rose to his neck, to feel the unruly, silky hair there. His other hand appeared onto my waist, pulling me slightly closer.
When we finally parted we were both panting and flushed and deliriously giddy. I bit my lip and smiled at him shyly. He was still holding my waist and my hand and my right forearm rested on his shoulder.
"Can I call you tonight?" He asked eagerly and a little breathlessly. I thought he was very cute.
"What kind of silly question is that?" I asked. As if I would be able to tell him no, no matter what he asked. His kiss had officially crumbled my will.
"Just answer it, please", he said, smiling a little.
"Of course you can. I want to hear your voice", I admitted a little ashamed. His left forefinger stroked my cheek gently.
"Good."
He gave me one soft peck on my lips and then I stumbled out of the car. I stood on our porch, stunned and a little light-headed and watched as he drove away. Tonight I would talk to him and thank him for the drive home and for the dinner, but at the moment I just let myself feel. He would call me.
He always called.
When I wake up the second time I'm not in the Recovery room anymore – I have been brought back to my private room and the dusk of twilight peeks at me through the window. I also notice that I'm not alone: Esme is sitting by my bed and she smiles widely when I see her.
"Good evening, Bella", she breathes and kisses my forehead. "Welcome back."
"You're here", I mumble groggily and rub my eyes with my IV- free hand.
"Yes, dear – Carlisle is on call tonight so I forced him to go home and have some sleep before that."
I groan quietly – poor Carlisle! He has to come back to hospital after spending there nearly two days without any sleep – on his free time. I feel ashamed to admit that I really couldn't have managed without him.
"And your dad called – he wanted to come and see you, too."
"What did you tell him?"
"I told that you were still asleep. He will be here tomorrow."
I sigh, thankful that I don't have to meet anyone else today. Dad would be insane with worry, I'm sure, and he doesn't even know about my pregnancy.
"Emily – I mean Dr Uley wanted to see you today, too. I understand that you had some questions for her. Do you want me to go and get her – I believe she's still in the hospital?"
"Yes please." I smile at Esme when she exits the room silently. She blows me a kiss and closes the door behind her.
I have nearly drifted off to sleep again, when Esme comes back followed by Emily who is dragging a big ultra sound machine behind her. I sit up tentatively. This is it.
"Hello, Bella", Emily greets me, smiling. I can see that she, too, is in need of a good night's sleep. I hope I'm not the only reason she is still here instead being at home with her husband.
"I thought that you might want to hear something." She plugs the machine in and we wait as it's warming up in silence. Esme has taken her previous seat next to my bed and is holding my hand. I push my blanket down from my abdomen and lift my gown under my breasts. I can see the wound now – or rather the small dressing on top of it. The skin around it looks bruised and ugly, yellowish purple. My belly looks slightly more round than it did yesterday – or whenever it was I last took a good look at it. Before I get to form the question in my still foggy brains, Emily says:
"Your stomach is a little swollen from the surgery – the tissue swelling should subside in a few days time. " I know that she tries to be comforting – but I really don't want the roundness to vanish. For the first time I actually look pregnant.
I just nod to her and smile nervously. She spurts some gel on the transducer and puts it on my belly. It feels like the whole room is holding its breath - and then I hear it.
"There we go", Emily says quietly as the rhythmic "thump-a-thump-a-thump" fills the room with breath-taking force. I feel the tears spilling to my cheeks and I don't even attempt to hide my silent sobs. Esme squeezes my hand and leans forward to look at the screen.
"Look, Bella!" she breathes. "Your baby is moving around like a little fish – I think he quite enjoys the attention." I fix my eyes to the screen, too, and look at the little figure twirling and turning under the pressure of the wand. I feel my own heart beating with the rhythm of baby's little heart. Quick, forceful and alive.
The door opens suddenly, but I don't even register it before the nurse clears her throat.
"Mrs. Cullen?" Esme and I both look up, but I can see that the nurse is looking at me.
"Yes?" I ask, still teary and smiling.
"We have your husband on the phone – would you like me to put him through?"
