I'm not sure how to reply to guest reviews, but to Kimmie: Yes, I tried to keep the characters as true to form as possible. Thanks for reviewing, everybody! If I get ten reviews tonight I'll post as early as tomorrow.
Esme's POV:
I had the three-to-five shift. Charlie had just left, and Carlisle was doing his rounds, but he would be here soon.
Her school friends must have come by earlier. Her bedspread was full of cards and photos, and her side-table was too.
It broke my heart to see her this way, so fragile and pale, with all of her beautiful hair gone. I would give anything to hear her voice again, or feel her throw her arms around me.
"I brought you something, too, Bella," I said quietly, "and I hope you remember it. They say familiar things might help you out of this."
I pulled a bright blue ribbon from my pocket. "You were wearing this the first time I ever saw you. You were so nervous! Meeting your boyfriend's family. But not because we were all vampires. No, not you, Bella. You were afraid we wouldn't like you."
I tied the ribbon around her wrist. "I love you, Bella."
The door opened softly behind me, the sound barely detectable under the constant swish and beep of the monitors. I knew without turning that it was my beloved.
"No change," Carlisle stated heavily. Over the last few days it had become more of a statement and not a question. We were all beginning to lose hope.
"No," I said quietly.
He took a seat beside me, squeezing my hand. "To think I could have prevented all this," he said, guilt coloring his tone.
I didn't let him get any farther. "Don't beat yourself up, my love! We could all play the what-if game. What if we hadn't gone to the Bahamas for a week? That was my idea, you know. What if Alice had seen that Bella would need a phone earlier? We could have gotten her one, you know. What if Edward had talked Charlie into allowing her to come with us? He could've, you know."
I slid my finger under his chin and turned him towards me, forcing him to meet my gaze. "We could all play the blame game," I said again, more forcefully. "But the thing is, none of us can go back and change it."
"Edward hates me," he said, every word barely audible. Every word holding such pain it hurt me, too.
"Edward is not thinking straight," I said. "His inner pain is blinding him. He's lashing out – that's his way of dealing with it. It's always been his way. Don't take it personally."
"I wouldn't," Carlisle said. "Normally, in every other situation, I wouldn't. But it hurts me so deeply now because…because he's right."
The last words were inaudible to a human ear, but I caught them with no trouble. And they chilled me to the bone.
"He is not right, Carlisle. He knows that, deep inside. And so do you."
He just shook his head and continued to watch the gentle rise and fall of Bella's chest.
Edward's POV:
I knew I was in for it the moment I heard Esme's thoughts coming down the hall. I barely had time to brace myself before she stormed into my bedroom, where I was gathering a few more things to take to Bella.
"How dare you," she seethed.
"Esme," I started wearily, but she cut me off. "Don't you get smart with me, Edward Anthony Masen Cullen. This is going to end right now."
I set the bag on my bed and turned to look at her.
"It's not his fault, and you know it."
Anger began to boil up inside me. "It is his fault, Esme! Why didn't he have his phone on?"
Her eyes narrowed. "You could take that game a million different ways. Why blame your father? The man who loves Bella as much as you do. The man who loves you, Edward, and would give his own life a thousand times over to see you happy."
I deserved her wrath and loathing – I knew that, deep inside. But I was afraid. If I let go of my anger, what did I have left? Nothing but a deep, abiding grief that would tear me apart. I had to be angry. I had to blame someone.
Esme was still glaring defiantly at me, waiting for my response. I felt myself deflate.
"I'm sorry," I broke down and let her hold me, wrap me in her comforting, motherly arms and soothe me.
Mine was the first façade to crumble – and it certainly would not be the last.
Jacob's POV:
I felt awkward, folded up into this little chair in the stark white hospital room. I shifted uncomfortably and reminded myself that this was Bella I was talking to – though the emaciated, bald shadow in the bed hardly resembled the girl I loved.
"Well, Charlie let me go up to your room and get this," I said, after clearing my throat. "He thought it might help a little. Plus I'm kind of selfish. You've got something from just about everybody in this room. I want you to have a piece of me, too."
I carefully hung the dreamcatcher I'd given her for her eighteenth birthday over her head. "I hope, wherever you are, you're happy, Bella. Whether it's with me, or with him, or maybe your life before you ever came to Forks. I just…I just want you to be happy, Bella. That's all I ever really wanted."
I thought back to all the ways I'd made her life miserable since Edward had come back into the picture. I'd even told her I'd rather see her dead than one of them. God, I would give anything to take back those words.
I'd asked Carlisle about changing her. But he'd explained that the brain damage was irreversible, anyway. Not even the changing process would help that. So we were all stuck in some sort of limbo. Waiting for Bella to wake up. Waiting for her to respond in some way. Waiting for her heart to stop beating.
Waiting forever.
"Bella, if you come back, I promise to leave you alone and let you live your life in peace with the one you chose. Just…come back."
