Author's Note: Nice reviews are better than chocolate, unless maybe you're licking the chocolate off someone.
Seven
Tears fell from Bella's eyes onto Edward's face as she did compressions on his chest on the forest floor. She wasn't entirely sure how to do it; she only had a dim memory of her mother trying to teach her the proper way in one of the many tangents of her mother's life. She counted out loud and then blew into his mouth. Bella did this over and over, afraid to stop, believing she could keep him alive if she could just keep moving. She could hear someone's loud, hitched breathing echo off the trees and then recognized that it was her own. In that instant, she wanted to call out to God, to whoever it was, to save him or take them both because she couldn't live in a world where Edward didn't exist. Her fingers cramped and her back ached and she had a suspicion that no one was listening.
Finally she stopped to check his breathing and heartbeat. With shaking hands she pressed her fingers on his neck, but she couldn't tell if the movement was from him or her. She wasn't at all sure if that's the way it had always been, that her heart beat only as a companion to his. She made a sound of frustration and concentrated harder; the beat of his heart was faint, but present. His breathing was not. "Dammit, dammit! Breathe Edward, please!" Her cry caught in her throat as she continued to breathe for them both. She didn't realize anyone else was there until two hands began pulling her away, up onto her feet. "No! Leave me alone! He's still alive, Edward!!" She screamed at him, clawing out of the man's grasp, getting down on her hands and knees, crawling up beside Edward's face, cutting her palms on loose branches. "Edward! Edward!" She turned to face the other person who was reaching for her again, it was a paramedic. "Save him then! Do something!"
A second paramedic showed up then, carrying medical equipment. They spoke too quickly for Bella to understand; she backed up then, knowing better than to get in their way. She was unaware of the other people that were there. Her eyes were locked on Edward's still form, willing him to breathe. Hoping that if he died, she could somehow be taken with him.
"His heart stopped," one of the paramedics said, his voice rising in alarm. Bella would swear later she heard Edward release one low, quiet exhale into the air.
Bella stopped breathing. "Edward," her voice was barely a whisper. More hands were on her, pulling her farther back, away from him. In the distance, she thought she heard someone say, "she shouldn't have to see him like this." He'd looked dead. His blood dried in angry stains on all his exposed skin, his face looked too round, she couldn't see the sharp curves of his cheekbones. The blood on his clothes looked black.
She fought them every step of the way, screaming at them to let her go. But her will to really fight had left when Edward's heart stopped beating; she closed her eyes and waited for the world to take her too.
"Miss Swan, please come this way," detective St. Clair turned her to face him. "Look at me Bella." He held her upper arms in his large hands. He looked like he pitied her, like he'd seen her future and this was her unhappy ending. She stared at him, realizing that his hands were the only thing keeping her from crumpling to the ground. With her eyes on him, the detective lost his ability to speak. Yet he could see the hope in her face, he could see something in her that she didn't know was there.
The paramedics were slowing down, their movements resigned. One sat back on his knees, his brows furrowed. "Ok," he paused, his eyes cast downward, "he was just too far gone," he sighed, defeat shown across his face. The other paramedic pressed a last time into Edward's chest and touched his fingers to Edward's wrist lightly, more out of his need to finish his job than anything else. They backed up, preparing Edward for removal. A body bag appeared; a third paramedic stretched it out on the ground. They moved in around him, reminding Bella of vultures circling a dead gazelle.
The detective was never good at this, giving comfort; he let Bella go. She didn't know what to do; she looked at St. Clair blank faced, turned to Edward again. She couldn't process why they were stopping, they were supposed to save him. She was supposed to save him. She stood rooted to the ground, knowing she should be doing something, screaming into the heavens over what kind of sadistic force would let her taste perfection and then rip it out of her grasp.
"I want to see him alone," she said it so quietly she wasn't sure if anyone could hear her. The paramedics turned at the same time to look at her; they backed up to give her space. She kneeled beside Edward's face and smoothed back his matted hair; his skin still felt warm. There wasn't anything she could say that would matter, so she sat there with him, running her hands over his face, onto his neck -
"He's got a pulse!" Bella jumped up, her own heart pounding.
"Edward!" Dark spots began to cloud her vision; she felt like she was underwater. The voices sounded far away and she recalled hoping that someone would catch her before she hit the ground.
She woke up in the ambulance, afraid to move, afraid of what she might see. Tentatively, she looked to her right and saw Edward, laying on a gurney, eyes closed. He's alive. She reached her hand out, took his, and let exhaustion take her away.
There was a lot of noise, someone was screaming, that was what woke her up. She sat upright in the hospital bed, looking around. There was a thin curtain partition and the screaming was coming from beyond that. She struggled to find focus.
"No needles mom, please, I hate them!" Bella heard a mother's soothing voice, with only a slight hint of irritation. She looked down at herself and noticed thankfully that she was in her own clothes. She swung her legs carefully over the side of the bed, touching her feet slowly to the ground. She tested pressing her full weight on her feet and when she didn't immediately stumble, took off in search of someone who could help her. She found a nurse's station not far from her "room", but nobody was there. She turned in a circle, willing someone to appear. She was still exhausted and felt like she might fall down at any minute. Have I eaten today? Yesterday? She couldn't remember. Leaning against the counter at the nurse's station, she closed her eyes.
"Can I help you with something?" A tired female voice asked her. She lay a gentle hand on Bella's shoulder.
"I'm looking for Edward Cullen, he was just brought in today," Bella looked up at the woman; she had kind eyes. The nurse walked behind the counter and began looking through files; she tapped something out on the keyboard. "Room 411; take this elevator to the fourth floor and go right, you'll see the room. Dear, are you alr –" Bella was gone before the nurse could say anything more.
The elevator seemed to take hours. It stopped at the second floor, took on a family who were obviously grieving. The woman, looking to be in her fifties, was crying softly into a handkerchief, a younger woman, her daughter maybe, wrapped an arm over her shoulders and stayed quiet. "I don't know how to be without him. I don't know what to do. This wasn't supposed to happen." Her body shook with the force of her crying and Bella had the urge to go to her, to tell her something perfect, to make her alright. But she was too afraid of doing more harm than good. The doors opened to the fourth floor and Bella used the last of her reserves, running toward room 411.
It was four doors down; she stood outside, suddenly cautious. She remembered how he looked in the woods. She could barely see his skin, he'd been covered in layers blood and dirt. One of his eyes had been swollen shut, his left foot lying at an odd angle. She opened the door slowly, afraid that he might be sleeping. Bella peeked inside and saw him.
Most of the blood and grime had been cleaned off his face and arms, but it was difficult to tell with all the bruising. He had a small cut over his swollen right eye and a bruise that matched Bella's on his cheekbone. His bottom lip was cut and swollen. Her gaze moved down to his hospital gown, his arms looked alright, although his left wrist was wrapped in white gauze. His left foot was in a white cast that went up to mid-calf. She took a step forward and a doctor entered. He held Edward's chart, making a note on it. "Are you family?" He asked her curiously.
"I'm his wife," Bella said without pausing. "How is he?" He motioned for her to follow him outside and she did obediently.
"Most of the damage was internal, but not necessarily life threatening. My best guess is that the men that attacked you both dropped him in the woods, thinking he was already dead. In his condition, it could have fooled them. He is suffering from the effects of exposure, which is the worst of it. To be perfectly honest," he paused, studying her expression, "he wouldn't have survived another night out there if you hadn't found him."
Bella's eyes were wide as she listened to Edward's doctor. She still hadn't had time to process any of this, especially the part where she seemed to know exactly where he was in the first place. Standing there, she discovered that she didn't care. He was alive; he was with her.
The doctor replaced Edward's chart and left, leaving Bella standing alone in the hallway. She opened the door and tiptoed back into the room. Edward's eyes were still closed. Bella pulled a chair as close as she could to his right side and leaned her upper body over the bed, resting her face next to his hand, facing him. She lay there for a long time without interruption, after a while she closed her eyes. She felt his hand move then, gently moving her hair out of her face. A small swallow, a hoarse whisper -
"Hi, love."
