WARNING: This chapter contains sensitive material that may be a trigger for certain readers. Proceed with caution!
Chapter 7
"Hey, can you hear me?"
"Bella?"
"She's really warm… where's Carlisle?"
The muffled, thick sounds of worried voices only just permeated the thick fog of sleep clouding my mind as I lay still, every fiber of my being focused on staving off the ache of sickness. Laying in the strange, comfortable bed, I felt my body come alive, fleeing the bonds of slumber as I escaped the realm of dreams. Slowly, bit by bit, my senses returned to me. I felt the warm, cocooning sheets wrapped around my legs, and the chilly air on my face and arms. I smelled the sweet, slightly floral scent that permeated the room, and the distinct, earthy cologne to which Emmett was so partial. My eyes, while still closed, became aware of the colourful blooms behind my eyelids, blues melting into reds, reds to greens and greens to purples. I tasted the remnants of medicine from earlier in the day, and though something in me registered the unpalatable bitterness, I was in no state to take action.
"Wake up, Bell." Jasper's voice was slightly muffled, but loud in its proximity. A hand reached out and stroked my clammy forehead, and while I knew the hand should be warm, it felt strangely cold and intrusive in my half-awake state. Blinking slowly to acclimate to the light of the bedside lamp, I jerked away from Jasper's steady, soothing hand and pressed my cheek onto the cold pillow beside me. My entire chest flared with pain as I twisted round, and a loud, unpleasant cough burst from me as my eyes snapped open. I tried to catch my breath.
"Hey, hey, hey…" said Jasper's now-worried voice as he reached over and pulled me back, settling me gently on some pillows he had propped up. "Deep breaths." The coughing lasted a few moments longer, and once it eased up I sat hunched over, my forehead resting on my knees.
"That doesn't sound good," said Emmett's voice, speaking suddenly from the corner of the room. I started and glanced up, seeing his hulking figure huddled away in the shadows, a dark mask of concern on his face.
"You're really warm, Bella," said Jasper gently, pressing his hand to my forehead once again. "And you're coughing."
I sighed and swallowed thickly, feeling the unpleasant burning pain in my throat and chest.
"See if Carlisle's still up," said Jasper, turning to our brother. "I'm sure her fever's worse."
"Sure," said Emmett, stepping forward and skirting around the end of the large bed. His brows were knit together, a concerned crease marring the otherwise smooth forehead. He glanced back only for a moment as his feet crossed the threshold of the door, and in that momentary gaze I saw his worry and upset reflecting back at me.
"I'm fine," I said automatically, my throat flaring as I used my voice for the first time since waking.
"No, you're not," said Emmett, and much to my concern, he no longer sounded angry. Instead, he sounded soft and tired, as if all of the stress of the past few days had worn him down. That sound of defeat- that gentle, unassuming protest to what would have usually incited anger and affront, made my heart clench and my stomach roll.
Before I could say anything in return, Emmett left the room and closed the door behind him, his quickened footsteps echoing down the hall.
"Carlisle will know what to do," said Jasper gently, fussing over the sheets that were tangled around my legs. "He'll make you feel better."
"Did I upset Emmett?" I asked worriedly, my voice coming out in a harsh rasp.
"No, Bella," said Jasper. "Emmett's just overwhelmed. I think we all are."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," said Jasper, and to my dismay, he sounded just as detached as Emmett. "None of this is your fault."
I stayed quiet as I blinked back my tears, wishing more than anything that we could go back to the way things were before all of this- before I had opened by big mouth and blabbed, and before my brothers were ruminating over their own misplaced guilt. In that moment, lying on a bed that was not mine, in a family home that was not my own, I felt the depth of my own intrusiveness, the knowledge that I did not belong. A home like this was no place for someone like me—someone with nothing to offer, and who took way more than she could ever give back.
Jasper pressed a kiss to my cheek and snapped me out of my thoughts, just as Emmett's footsteps returned in the hallway, and the door creaked open. This time, however, Carlisle's tall form came into the room as well, silhouetted against the light from the hallway. He moved quickly into the room, urging Jasper away so he could take the most convenient spot beside my bed.
"Open up for me," he said gently, brandishing his thermometer. Knowing that protest would get me nowhere I did as I was told, and let the kind doctor slip the metal probe under my tongue. Gentle hands coaxed my arm from under the covers where I had slipped it in search of warmth, and I felt his steady fingers grip my wrist, timing my pulse.
By the time he released me and the thermometer had beeped, he was coaxing me to sit up as he produced a stethoscope from a medical bag.
"You've got a fever, and your pulse is quick," he said gently. "Deep breath for me?"
The coolness of the stethoscope made me flinch back but Carlisle did not relent as he held it in place, and I did my best to breathe deeply without coughing.
I did not succeed.
"Again."
I coughed again, and he laid me gently on the propped up pillows.
"It sounds to me as if you've got an infection," he said gently, peeling back the heavy comforter on the bed. I shivered fiercely as my last refuge of warmth was taken away, and huddled up even more tightly in the sheet he had left in place.
"I know you're cold, dear, but try to keep the comforter off," he said. "I don't want your temperature rising any more than it already has. You're relatively healthy, so I don't think there will be any other complications, but if you get too warm, you'll have to go into the hospital. I'm going to swab your throat and look for anything else it might be, but some antibiotics, bed rest, and plenty of fluids should sort you right out."
I simply laid in my bed, staring up at him, feeling more miserable by the minute. There was no way I could just lie in this bed, doing nothing to contribute… doing nothing to show my thanks for their kindness.
"If your fever increases, or you have any trouble breathing, tell me immediately," said Carlisle, placing a water bottle on the bedside table as he rummaged in his bag. "I've got a few doses of antibiotics in here, but I'll write you a script and have someone pick it up tomorrow."
He placed a bottle of large pills on the table as well, and cracked open the water bottle.
"Take two now, and another two every six hours," he said. "I'm sure someone can set an alarm so you remember to take them."
Emmett immediately snatched his cell phone from his pocket and began swiping through it to find what we needed.
"I'll let Esme know what's going on in the morning," said Carlisle. "She'll be more than willing to make sure you've got everything you need."
"I can…" My sentence was cut off by a sharp, painful cough that made Emmett shift uneasily.
"You can rest in bed until you feel better," said Carlisle gently. "Don't worry about anything else, alright?"
"But…"
"Trust me," said Carlisle gently, smoothing the sheet down as he spoke. "Esme won't mind one bit. You need antibiotics, rest and fluids. The rest we can sort out later."
"The rest?" repeated Jasper quickly, eyes snapping up to meet Carlisle's. I laid back down in bed, closing my eyes.
"There are still questions that need answering," said Carlisle gently. "A social worker was set to come by tomorrow afternoon to sort out temporary custody, but as it stands, I think I'll call her and reschedule. Since Bella is sixteen, she could legally apply for emancipation, but…"
His next words were drowned out as my throat flared once more and another vicious, hacking cough forced me to sit up- carefully, lest I strain my rib.
"…with us," finished Carlisle, mild concern entering his voice as he reached out a hand to steady me. "Lying flat will make it worse, I'm afraid, so perhaps you might feel better if you use some more cushions to hold you up."
Jasper rose to the occasion before I could even move, and when he was finished, I was nearly upright.
"Let her be for now," said Carlisle, gently coaxing Jasper away as he went to fix the already smooth sheets on the mattress next to me. "Nothing to do but wait it out, I'm afraid."
"Do you need anything?" asked Jasper gently, clenching his hands into fists in what I knew was a feeble attempt to keep his hands away from my blankets. "Anything to eat? Some more water?"
"No thanks," I said, whispering to keep my throat from protesting too much.
"You know how to use Emmett's phone?" he asked, picking up the small black tablet from the bedside table. I nodded.
"Text me if you need anything. Don't shout, okay?"
"Yeah."
"I love you," he said, gently peeling himself away from the bedside, where I knew he wanted to be. Jasper was a natural caretaker—always one to look after everyone else, even at the expense of himself, if the situation warranted it.
"Love you."
"Come on, Jas," said Emmett gently, jerking his head towards the door. "Let her sleep."
"Text me, Bella," said Jasper firmly, pointing to the phone. "I mean it."
"I will."
"Someone will come and check up on you in a little while," said Emmett gently, stepping aside to let Carlisle pass through. "Try to sleep through until morning, okay? Maybe that will help."
The clock on the wall ticked steadily, the hands indicating 1:30 A.M.
My eyes were heavy.
"I will," I promised, reaching over to turn the knob on the lamp. My head thanked me as the harsh, white light disappeared and was replaced with steady darkness, with only a chink of light from hallway streaming through the open door, and the blue-filtered light of the moon from the gap in the curtains.
"Feel better, Boo," said Emmett gently, just as Jasper slipped past him and made his way slowly down the hallway, leaving our brother in the doorway.
"I will. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he said, and closed the door behind him.
Left alone in the bedroom, I sat back on my pillows and closed my eyes, my thoughts rushing to and fro as I lingered on the events of late. My tired brain, try as it might, could not make sense of the sequence of events that had led me to where I was now. How could it be that only last week I was alone in my predicament, with only my abuser knowing the full extent of my misery? What had happened? How had that part of myself- that quiet, meek, unassuming part of me- changed so drastically? Where had all that inner strength- the strength to speak up and take back control, come from? Had it always been a part of me, or had it grown from the sense of opportunity that underscored my anxiety at my brothers' arrival?
My mind raced, and try as I might, my overactive mind would not succumb to my bodily exhaustion, and I was left in a state of in-between. While my body screamed and protested, demanding that I give in and sleep, my mind refused to settle down. If it did not focus on the events of the past few days, it pointed out my sickness. If it did not focus on sickness, it reminded me of my anxiety, about how inadequate and burdensome I felt in this big house with these kind people. It reminded me of how embarrassing my dialogue with the handsome Edward had been, and how he must think me defective, unintelligent, a complete and total freak… Oh, how my ribs were aching, my head throbbing. What must my brothers think of me…
The sky glowed the bright blue of a clear, cloudless day- a rippling azure that came with burgeoning summer. I could feel the soft grass on my legs, bare and warm in the yellow sunshine. I felt the warmth on my upturned cheek; I sensed the gentle breeze that brought with it whiffs of wildflowers and freshly cut grass. My hair blew gently, curling tendrils tickling my neck as I smiled to myself, brushing my hand up to move it away.
"Bella!" My head snapped to the side, seeking the newcomer. The white façade of our home was topsy-turvy from my prone position on the ground. Her voice was happy.
"Bella! Dinner!"
…
"I'm so sorry, Bella."
"Such a tragedy."
"So young…"
"So beautiful…"
I barely heard the words being said to me, the empty condolences of those who did not know, of those who could never know… Guilt burned though me; the acrid pang of knowledge kept me in my seat, hunched over, refusing to look up and see her smiling. I refused to see her likeness there, a two dimensional representation tucked away behind a pane of glass…
Jasper's arms wrapped around me and I started, my vision suddenly clouded by the grey of his sweater. Her casket, the wooden tomb that I had forced her into, was blocked by a tuft of blonde hair and a stubbly, splotchy, tearstained cheek. Jasper slid in next to me on the church pew, not saying a word and yet conveying so much as he gripped me, running a tense hand up and down my back.
"It'll be done soon," he said finally, as I pressed my face greedily into his shoulder. I did not want to look… I didn't want to see…
"Do you want to go up?"
My whole body shook and I felt the familiar grip of panic taking over. I wouldn't. I didn't want to. I couldn't see…
"Hey, hey, you're okay," said Jasper, worried as he held me even more tightly. He helped me up from the pew and steered me away, leading me down to the church basement just as the breathlessness took over and my vision began to fade…
…
His hand was on my face. I could feel the tears, thick and hot, falling down my face as he moved above me, his weight pressing down and forcing air from my lungs. He smelled of sweat and cologne, of mint and gunpowder.
"I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry…"
I squeezed my eyes tight and jerked my face away from his hand, pressing it instead into the pillow…
Something cold slipped under my legs.
"I love you."
Hands gripped my arms.
His head collapsed on my shoulder, his breath heaving…
My hair was damp.
"Good girl…"
"Wake up, Bella."
The world went dark…
"She's much too hot."
"What do you need me to do, Carlisle?"
"Go and pull the car around."
"Shouldn't we call an ambulance?"
"The car, Esme, please…"
"What's wrong with her?" Emmett's voice sounded tinny.
"I'm not sure," said Carlisle, his voice slipping into muffled garble. The urge to fall back into sleep, into sweet, sweet darkness tugged at me, urging me forth, but a real, almost tangible fear of dreams urged resistance. I felt an insistent hand on my cheek, rubbing back and forth as my eyes shifted behind their lids, and burst of icy cold spread across my head.
"That's it," said Carlisle, as my eyes snapped open and I blinked furiously. My head was pounding it its skull, hot needles poked at my throat and my chest felt as if it were being crushed.
"Your fever spiked," said Carlisle gently, resting me against the wall of the bathroom- someone must have carried me inside.
"You're wet… I had to cool you off," he continued, using a fluffy towel to gently pat down the dripping ends of my hair. "I'm going to drive you to the hospital, so they can take a better look at you there."
"What…?" I just could not fight off the cough as I slumped back against the wall, strength eluding me. Someone had placed an ice pack under my legs as well, and I jerked away when I felt cold condensation seep through my pants.
"Can you stand?" asked Carlisle, offering me his hands to help me up. I stood on shaking legs on the cold tiles, resisting the urge to fall back down as my head spun and my stomach clenched. Emmett, who I had just barely noticed, also reached out to steady me, and I felt my face flame.
"I'm fine," I insisted, turning away from my brother to cough into my hand.
"You're not fine," said Carlisle easily, letting Emmett lead me outside the room. I shivered, cold air rushing over my wet head. "I think your infection might have become pneumonia. A chest x-ray is in order."
"Charlie can't afford that," I said automatically, my mind moving immediately to a hypothetical scene involving me, Charlie, and a hefty medical bill.
"Don't worry about that," said Carlisle, trying to placate me. "Let me worry about all of that, and you just worry about feeling better."
"But…"
"Bella, stop," said Emmett, and I was both pleased and slightly ashamed to hear a note of anger returning to his voice. "You're injured, have a raging fever, are coughing up a lung and might have pneumonia. You're going to get checked out and you're not going to complain about money. Got it?"
"But…"
"Stop it," he said firmly, stopping us partway down the stairs to wheel around and face me. "Enough worrying, please…"
The icy hard stubbornness in his eyes shifted only for a moment, but that brief moment belied his concern and upset. Neither of us spoke for a long moment before he sighed and stepped aside, letting me continue on my way.
"They'll take an x-ray to make sure everything is in order, and as long as your breathing isn't compromised, I see no reason why they shouldn't write you a stronger prescription and let you come right back home," said Carlisle.
"When you come back," said Emmett, smiling weakly, "I'll let you hang in my room and we can watch the game."
"Oh yay," I deadpanned, and Emmett let out a genuine laugh before he ruffled my already tangled hair, and opened the door.
"Jasper won't be happy," said Emmett, grimacing as he looked at the clock. It read 6:45. "But I'll tell him where you are if he wakes up." I grimaced.
"We'll be quick, I'm sure," said Carlisle, checking his watch. "She'll take precedent over any sniffles or colds."
"Love you," said Emmett gently, stepping back to let Esme, still clad in her dressing gown, come back inside, handing Carlisle the keys to his Mercedes.
"Feel better, sweetheart," she said, pressing a kiss to my forehead that made my face flame red. "I'll make some light soup for when you come home, okay?"
For the second time that morning, my stomach did a strange little flip at the sound of the word "home".
"Thanks Esme."
Carlisle ushered me through the door, and into the backseat of his car.
ooOoo
Three hours later, I was back at the Cullen home, snug and warm next to Emmett, while Jasper lounged in a chair off to the side. Emmett, reclined on a mountain of pillows, munched lazily on a handful of peanuts while Jasper, pointedly ignoring the loud chewing, stared diligently at the screen, where a new player was coming up to bat.
I shifted carefully against Emmett's side, conscious of the long tube running from the needle in my hand to the bag of antibiotics and saline on the tall, shiny pole.
"Your arm is cold," remarked Emmett, glancing down between us at my arm, wedged between the mattress and his side.
"It's the saline," said Jasper, turning to face us as the batter struck out. "It helps with the fever, too. You feeling okay?"
"Not too bad," I said quietly, snuggling deeper into the bed. "I feel a bit better."
"Good," said Jasper, stretching his arms up over his head. "Carlisle said your fever was really high earlier."
"Mhm."
Emmett said nothing, keeping his eyes glued to the screen. Jasper had been rightly upset when he'd woken up and I was gone, especially knowing that Emmett hadn't roused him.
"Good. With any luck, you might be ready to go back to school in a week or two," said Jasper, eying the calendar on the wall. Schools weren't in right now, on account of spring break, but for both the boys and myself, the vacation was ending far too quickly.
"In Forks?" I asked, refusing to meet Emmett's eye when he scowled and sat up a little straighter, running a hand through his hair.
"I don't think so," said Jasper gently, sitting back in the recliner. "I'm sure social services will work something out."
I didn't reply, and let that information sink in.
"Hello?" Esme's soft voice emanated from the hallway, her gentle knock sounding on the bedroom door. "Can I come in?"
"Sure, Esme," said Emmett easily, glancing over as Esme stepped inside, a tray of food in her hands.
"Now, this is for your sister," she said sternly, shooting a pointed glance in Emmett's direction. Even though he smiled knowingly at her, he did sit back a little, and avert his eyes from the steaming bowl of soup that so obviously enticed him.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart? Is the medication helping?"
"Yeah, thanks," I said, doing my best to clear my throat and sound even slightly normal. "Thanks for everything."
"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, waving me off. "I've brought you some soup, and a few crackers, if you feel up to eating. Carlisle also sends some Tylenol, for your headache, and a bottle of water in case you feel thirsty."
"Thanks."
"You're also supposed to take your temperature before you eat," she said, pulling a thermometer from her pocket. "If you eat before, it might not give a correct reading."
Dutifully and without complaint, I placed the probe under my tongue and waited for it to finish.
"100.9," said Esme, taking it from me when it beeped. "Still high, but not nearly as bad as before."
"That's good, Bell," said Jasper, smiling as Esme took it away and placed the tray over my lap. "Much better than before."
"Yeah." Esme beamed and my face flushed.
"Eat up, sweetheart, and I'll be back in a little while for the dishes."
"Thanks again," I said, my voice raspy and hoarse once more.
"Not a problem, dear." She fussed over the blankets. "Oh! I almost forgot! Rosalie and Alice were asking after you, and were wondering if you'd be up for a visit later today."
"Oh! Um…" I hesitated, chancing a glance at Jasper, who looked blankly back at me.
"If you're not up to it, that's perfectly fine," said Esme in a rush, looking slightly worried. "They'll understand, I promise…"
"No, that's okay," I said, shaking my head. "They can come in."
"Oh, wonderful," said Esme, smiling once more. "After your dinner, then."
"Sure."
"Call me if you need anything. Or send one of these two." She jerked her head at my brothers.
"Thanks."
"Eat up, sweetheart."
I spooned a hot mouthful of broth into my mouth in response, and with a small smile she left the room, closing the door behind her.
"She's a good woman," said Emmett suddenly, his eyes glued to the closed door.
"That she is," said Jasper, turning his attention back to the game on the television.
I simply finished my soup and snuggled back down under the covers, wondering what on earth Alice and Rosalie could want with me, of all people.
A/N: I'm hoping you all could follow along with this chapter, but in case you couldn't, the italics denote Bella's fever dreams.
Thanks again for sticking with me while I finish this story up. If you feel up to it, let me know what you think!
