A/N: I have to sincerely apologize for how long it has been since the last update to this story. I never intended for it to be so long but sometimes important RL "stuff" takes over and has to be dealt with. If you still have this on alert, I thank you for hanging in there!

Big thanks and hugs to urmistaken70 for pre-reading! :)


Edward smiled as he clicked his iPhone's alarm app, turning the beeping off. He closed his music folder, tapping it once on top of the piano to straighten the papers inside before stuffing it into his backpack. Bella was at the library with one of her study groups and he had decided to hang out at the music building and practice while she studied. It was going to be late when she finished and he didn't want her walking home alone. She had protested, but he refused to budge on the matter. He should have just enough time to make it over to the library and be waiting for her when she got out.

He was just walking out the door into the cool night air when his phone beeped again, this time signaling a text message. It was Bella.

Where r u?

Leaving music bldg. now, be there in 10.

Don't bother. Finished early. Meet me at the park instead.

Edward shook his head, frowning at her message. Emmett had called Bella stubborn the first night Edward met her at the diner and he certainly was right. She couldn't wait just ten extra minutes until he got there, especially when she knew he was coming to meet her. She hated to inconvenience anyone and she thought Edward was being overprotective.

Fine. But be careful.

Of course. xoxo. c u soon.

Edward got to the park quickly and sat down on their usual bench to wait on her. His mouth twitched upward into a smile, remembering the last time they'd been here. It was just a few weeks ago, on Mother's Day. So many emotions, so many memories were running through him that day. He had wanted to be alone; he had wanted to wallow. But Bella had shown up and sat there quietly with him, not saying a word, just being the strength and the calm that he hadn't known he needed. For the first time he had allowed himself to see the future, a future with her in it.

Of course, she had always been more certain about the two of them than he was. She never had doubts about her feelings for him or the idea of them as a couple. Which is why, a week later, she had asked if he wanted to move in together. She had all these arguments ready to convince him—it was more economical, it would save time (no more running back and forth between each other's apartments)—but she didn't need them. He was over the moon at the idea, and as she said, it did make sense. They rarely spent any time apart so why waste money on two apartments?

He remembered his surprise when she asked, and the heavy beating of his heart as her words sunk in. This was big. He tried to be rational and think this through, but his heart was already speaking the answer for him.

The look on her face when he said yes was etched in his memory—first a look of relief, and then that beautiful smile that lit up his world.

They'd spent Sunday morning culling through the "apartment for rent" listings, trying to decipher the descriptions—was "cozy" really cozy or was it just a euphemism for "small and cramped"—and bantering back and forth over the merits of this apartment versus that one. Bella made some calls and they had even gone and viewed a couple that afternoon. Neither one was suitable for different reasons, but it was a start at least. A start to their life together.

School was over in one more week and then they would be able to devote all of their time to apartment hunting, packing and moving. He broke out into a big grin every time he thought about it.

Caught up in his thoughts about their future, Edward didn't realize how many minutes had passed while he had been sitting at the park. He glanced down at his phone for the time; Bella should have been here by now, he thought to himself, frowning in concern.

He looked across the park, in the direction she should be coming from. Relieved when he saw her, he smiled and waved when he caught her eye.

A big smile spread over Bella's face, as she waved back at him. She had her ear buds in, listening to her iPod as she always did when she walked across campus. Spotting Edward, she immediately started digging into her bag for the iPod, to shut it off. Her steps slowed as she continued searching distractedly in her bag.

Screeching tires and loud rap music with a booming bass tore through the still night air as a beat-up van turned the corner too fast, swerving erratically.

Edward's smile wilted as the air left his body. He opened his mouth, on instinct, to scream, to warn Bella.

But of course, no sound came out.

His arms waved frantically, fists punching the air. As his body grew hot and cold with adrenaline, time suddenly crawled to a standstill, everything in slow motion, like the movies.

Except this was no movie.

He heard her scream.

He heard the dull thud.

The obnoxious bass thumping faded away as the van disappeared down the street . . . leaving only eerie black stillness in the air.

And Bella's crumpled body on the street.

Edward's heart was pounding out of his chest as he took off at a full run to get to her. He may not have had a voice, but inside he was screaming—NO! no, no, no, no . . . God, please…

Let her be okay.

Edward lost all breath as he stopped short in front of her, his muscles frozen.

She looked like a rag doll that someone had just tossed away without a second thought, her body twisted and still. One leg and arm were twisted under her at odd angles. And there was blood . . . so much blood.

Edward's legs gave out and he fell to the ground next to her.

NO, no, no . . . Bella, Bella . . . Oh Bella!

His lips moved but of course she would never hear him.

Please baby . . . please wake up! Please wake up for me, baby. Oh God . . .

Tears streamed down his face as he reached out to touch her. His hand shook as he gently placed his palm on her cheek. Her skin felt cool but he also felt a faint puff of warm air . . . which meant she was breathing, at least.

Edward sent a thanks to God and let out a relieved breath. But then he tilted her head slightly and found the source of the blood. One side of her face was scraped up from hitting the rough pavement, and up near her forehead was a deep gash. Dark maroon blood ran down her face and matted her hair. Her beautiful, beautiful hair . . .

Edward stroked the strands of hair around her injury and shook as sobs overtook him. He leaned over her, laying his cheek against the other half of her face, delicately trying to put his arms around her. He wanted to crush her body to his, to will her to feel him, to will her to hear him.

Please Bella, please wake up . . . open your eyes for me! Come on baby, fight . . . please don't leave me . . .

Let her be okay.

Afraid of hurting her further, Edward pulled away and gazed down at her. She looked so lifeless, so fragile. She had to be okay. He was going to make sure she was okay.

He took a breath and swiped at his eyes. With shaky hands, he grabbed his phone and without thinking, hit 9-1-1.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

Bella . . . my Bella . . . is hurt.

"I repeat, this is 9-1-1. What's your emergency?"

She was hit . . . she's bleeding . . . please hurry!

"Hello, is anyone there?

YES damn it I'm here! Edward frustratingly punched his phone, ending the call. No matter how much his brain screamed at the person on the other end of the phone, no words were going to come out. He knew better, but his mind was scrambled right now and 9-1-1 was the first thing he thought of. It's what every normal speaking person would have done.

He started fiddling with the phone again; he knew he had an app on there for making calls, or translating calls . . . something that surely could connect him to the help he needed for Bella. His fingers stabbed and swiped at the screen trying to find it. Bella had even downloaded it for him, but he'd never used it yet.

Finally finding it, he opened it but there were directions to read and screens to click through and a password to set up while minute after wasted minute was passing for Bella.

Edward flung the phone away from him in frustration, the cracking of plastic and metal against the pavement echoing in the stillness. He turned back to Bella, who still lay motionless. He touched her cheek again, and bent over her, tears flowing.

He would have to go get help.

But he couldn't leave her. What if she woke up while he was gone? She'd be cold and alone and in pain. Or worse . . . what if . . . what if she didn't wake . . . No!

Let her be okay.

It felt like hours that he sat there on the cold asphalt, cradling her body to him, warring with himself over what he should do. In reality it was only minutes, but they were the longest minutes of his life.

He was so focused on Bella that he didn't hear the approaching voices until they were only a few feet away.

"Oh my God!"

"Hey dude, are you okay? Whoa! What happened, man?"

"Ang, call 911. Hey, buddy . . . hey . . . ."

Edward's whole body jerked at the tug on his shoulder.

"It's okay, buddy . . . everything's going to be okay . . . ."

He turned to see two female students on the other side of the street, huddled together around a cell phone, one of them speaking into it. Backing slowly away from him with their hands up were two male students. They looked wary, and Edward couldn't understand why . . . until he realized how he must look. Crying and crazed, with blood streaked on his hands and his clothes, leaning over a bloody, mangled body. Good God, they probably thought he was the one who hurt her. He started moving his hands, signing desperately, telling them what had happened. Although, of course, they wouldn't be able to understand. But it was the only way he could try to communicate.

"What's he doing?" one of the boys asked.

"He's . . . I think he's using sign language," the blonde girl said. "He must be deaf?"

The four of them just stared at each other blankly and then back at Edward. He started furiously making writing motions, trying to get them to give him something to write on. His actions were futile, though, as sirens began wailing in the distance and chaos descended.

Screeching tires, screaming sirens, red flashing lights. Men and women in black uniforms, voices yelling out commands to each other.

Strong arms grabbed his and lifted him roughly away from Bella's side.

No!

He pushed and pulled violently against his captors, fighting to break free, but it only made them tighten their vice-like hold on him.

Bella!

"She's breathing! Pulse is strong. Significant trauma to the head. Fractured arm and leg. Get the neck brace and back board, stat."

Please help her . . .

The arms holding him shoved him farther away from Bella until he felt something hard digging into his back. Suddenly his vision was completely obliterated by two black shirts and shiny badges. The officers were still restraining him against their car but had moved in front of him, blocking his view of Bella and the EMTs.

"Sir, who is that lady? Is she a family member? Your girlfriend? What's your name? What the hell happened here tonight? Did you get angry with her? Were you trying to hurt her?"

As their accusations swirled around him, Edward wasn't even paying attention. He just wanted to see Bella. He continued to struggle against the officers, trying to see around them to see what the paramedics were doing to Bella.

"Sir! Sir! Are you refusing to answer our questions?"

"I think he's deaf." The blonde girl again, calling to the officers from across the street where they were being questioned by another uniformed policeman.

At her words, the officers turned their attention and their grip away from Edward long enough for him to finally see Bella, strapped to a stretcher and being loaded into the emergency squad vehicle. The doors slammed shut behind her, the sirens started screaming again and she was gone.

The struggle left Edward's body and his muscles immediately went lax, slumping against the police car for support. His heart plummeted into his burning, ripped-out stomach as he hung his head and let the tears flow silently.

Let her be okay.

.

.

.

.

.

.

It would be two hours before Edward was finally able to see Bella again, two hours that felt like a lifetime to him.

The police officers had to take him into the station because one of the officers there knew sign language and was able to interpret for Edward. His arms, hands, and fingers felt so heavy; hell his whole body felt heavy. It took great effort, but he was finally able to get his entire story out and answer all of their questions about what had happened. He gave a fair description of the van but there were probably a thousand nondescript brown vans in the city like the one that had hit Bella. He hadn't been able to get any license plate information and everything had happened so fast, he hadn't noticed anything else unusual about the car, no telltale markings or bumper stickers. He was the only witness, but they finally believed him and let him go. A uniformed officer drove him to the hospital where they had taken Bella, and escorted him inside, letting the doctors and nurses know that Edward couldn't speak.

When one of the nurses stated that medical information could only be given out to family members of the patient, Edward nearly jumped over the desk and attacked her himself. But as the police officer explained who Edward was and what had happened, the head nurse took sympathy on him and overruled the younger nurse, based on the fact that none of Bella's immediate family was there yet.

Bella's leg and arm were both broken, but with time should heal fine. The leg might need a rod or pin; the orthopedic specialist would look at it tomorrow. Her ribs were pretty bruised, but there were no fractures and no internal injuries. She had hit her head pretty hard, but initial tests showed that there should be no major damage. However, she still hadn't woken up and the doctors had no idea how long she would be out. The nurse explained that this was not uncommon after such a trauma as Bella had just been through. She said it was the body's natural way of forcing itself to rest and heal. Plus, Bella had been sedated and given some pain medication to keep her calm. All in all, she said Bella was a very lucky girl.

The nurse gave Edward Bella's room number and pointed him in the right direction. His eyes were heavy, his head was aching and fuzzy with exhaustion, and the hallway he stared down was so long. But it was Bella—he would travel a hundred miles in the desert to get back to her, to see her with his own eyes.

The whole car ride from the police station, he had been so gripped with fear; not knowing what he would find when he got to the hospital.

Let her be okay.

The door to her room was closed with only a small, narrow window allowing a view to what was on the other side. Without looking, without thinking, Edward twisted the doorknob and rushed into the room.

His whole body stopped and his legs shook, almost buckling under him.

Oh my beautiful Bella . . .

She was lying quiet in the bed, her dark hair stark against her pale skin and the pale white hospital sheets. She was hooked up to a couple of machines, and her left arm and leg were immobilized in temporary braces. A large white bandage covered an entire half of her forehead. Her eyes were closed and the only movement was the slight rise and fall of her chest as she struggled for each breath.

His own breath stuck in his chest and his heart raced. He stood there for an eternity until he finally felt himself moving forward to her bedside. His hand shook as he reached out and gently brushed his fingertips across her cheek.

Bella? I'm here . . . I'm here now.

There was no movement, no reaction from her. His eyes welled up.

Please, love . . . please wake up.

Still nothing.

His hand moved down to her hand, curling his fingers tightly around hers. He squeezed gently several times, hoping she would feel the movement and open her eyes . . . but again there was no reaction.

Bella, I'm so sorry. Please . . . squeeze my hand, open your eyes for me baby.

I'm here . . . Please come back to me.

The tears flowed down his face. He thought for sure . . . if she knew he was here . . . she would respond, with a twitch, a squeeze . . . something, anything that would let him know she knew it was him.

And yet . . . nothing. But then, why should she respond to him now? He was too late. He had failed her. He couldn't warn her. He couldn't stop the van. He couldn't call for help. He'd just sat there . . . useless, while she lay hurt. He hadn't even been able to be with her in the ambulance as she was taken away. She had probably been scared and hurt and alone . . . and he wasn't there.

Oh why hadn't he told her to stay at the library? It was only a matter of a mere ten minutes from the music building to the library. Why couldn't she have waited? He shouldn't have gone to the music building at all, he should have went with her to the library, stayed there and waited while she studied. Then she wouldn't have been alone; she wouldn't have gotten hit.

It was all his fault. He wasn't there. He'd tried, he didn't want her walking home alone so that was why he waited on campus for her . . . but it hadn't been enough.

And now he was here for her, with her, and was still helpless to do anything to save her. All he could do was watch and wait for her to wake up. If she woke up. No matter what the doctors said, he wouldn't believe she was really okay until he saw her eyes open.

His chest was in crushing pain, aching for her. Although he knew he had no right to, he bent towards her and brushed his lips over hers, as gentle and as lovingly as he could. But her lips were not his Bella's lips. They were cool and antiseptic tasting. And non-moving. He pressed again, a bit more forcefully.

As he pulled away, her eyes were still closed. Even his kiss, his kiss that never failed to bring heady, fiery reactions from her . . . could not get through the lifeless fog she was trapped in.

His head rested on the cold chrome of her bed rail, tears dripping silently, landing on his shoes and the hard tile floor below.

The sound of the door opening and squeaky footsteps brought him out of his grief.

The young nurse stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening at Edward's face. "I'm sorry, sir . . . I have to check her vitals and her IV . . . ."

Edward just shook his head to indicate it was okay. He swiped at his eyes with his hands as he got up and headed toward the doorway. He turned one more time and looked back at Bella again, sadly, before leaving her in the care of the nurse.

Let her be okay.

~O~X~O~X~O~X~O~X~

"Ed . . . Ed watch out!" His mother's voice . . . then she screamed. Ear-splitting screams that seemed to go on forever. Bright light blinding him. Screeching tires.

"Elizabeth!" His father calling out. Sounds of metal crunching. The car bouncing around like one of his soft bouncy balls. Edward remembered turning upside down and around and upside down again before finally the car bounced to a stop, right-side up. He had scrunched his eyes tightly shut during the blinding light and all of the bouncing. Once everything had settled and it was quiet again, he carefully opened his eyes. His parents were silent, his father's head leaning out the glassless driver's side window. His mother was slumped against her passenger side seat, all he could see from the backseat was some of her pretty red hair peeking around the headrest and her arm that had come to rest on the console between the front seats. She was motionless and there was blood covering her arm.

Edward remembered the icy fear he felt, the confusion. He tried to move but something heavy was holding him down. When he tried to move his head something sharp was scratching at his neck. He still flailed his arms and struggled to move, even though it was fruitless. He needed to wake his Mama up, he didn't understand how she could have gone to sleep with all of the noise.

"Mama! Daddy! Mama! Wake up!" She wasn't responding. Didn't she hear him?

He started screaming for help, for anyone to help his mama and his daddy. Why wasn't anyone coming?

And then he realized . . . when he opened his mouth, no sound was coming out. He was forming the words in his mind and his lips were moving . . . but there was nothing but silence. He was helpless to do anything to help his parents and they had died. Now, again he was in a situation where someone he loved needed his help and he had been unable to help her . . . .

~O~X~O~X~O~X~O~X~

Heavy footsteps running down the hall roused Edward, and his head snapped up. When his eyes focused finally, he found himself looking into Bella's father's eyes. Charlie's brow was furrowed and his mouth was pinched into a tight line. He paused briefly in his glance at Edward but said nothing, instead rushing into Bella's room. Edward didn't need to hear Charlie's words, that look in his eyes said it all. What did you do to my baby girl? You promised to take care of her. You said you loved her. Why didn't you protect her? You lied. You let her get hurt. You couldn't help her.

Edward's heart started pounding so hard it hurt, and he couldn't breathe. He jumped up and tore off down the hall. He just had to get away, just for a moment. He turned down a hallway and found an open doorway with a sign above it—"Surgery Waiting Room." He peered in and saw that it was completely empty.

Slowly he walked in and sat down in one of the plush chairs. He bent over, his head in his hands, his fingers gripping his hair tightly. After many minutes, his breathing finally started to settle down.

Raising his head, he looked blankly around the room, searching for something, anything else to focus on for the moment. A distraction.

On the wall directly across from him was a large framed painting, well, a print of a painting. It caught his eye because it felt familiar and yet sad at the same time. He got up to get a better look at it. Nighthawks by Edward Hopper, read the tag on the wall next to the frame. It was a painting of a diner, so no surprise that it looked familiar. In fact, it reminded him very much of Emmett's. Except that it was so . . . empty and cold. The street outside the diner was dark and empty. And even though there was a lot of light inside the diner, it was almost too bright and garish; it gave the scene no warmth. There were only four people in the diner: a man with his back to the window, an employee of the diner working behind the counter, and then on the side of the counter facing the viewer were a man and a woman. The man and the woman were not looking at each other but were obviously together by how close they sat.

Edward began to wonder about the people in the painting. Why were they not looking at each other, why did they seem so detached from each other? What had made them come into the diner and why weren't they interacting with each other?

The more he continued to stare at the people, the more he began to imagine them alive, moving and talking. The woman's red hair darkened to brown, like Bella's. She turned to the man sitting next to her, a smile slowly animating her beautiful face. The man said something to her and she broke out into laughter then. She tipped her head forward intimately toward the man. He reached up with his finger, nudging her even closer until their lips met, in a gentle, tender, kiss.

As they pulled apart, her eyes opened languidly and she sighed, a smile still on her face. Edward, trapped working behind the counter, watched her, watched the happiness shining from her eyes. He stood there, torn between sorrow and happiness as Bella and the man continued to converse and laugh and smile comfortably. Part of his heart was broken at seeing her with someone else, but another part of his heart was happy to see her happy and content and loved. As she should be, as she deserved to be by a normal, speaking man. A man who could take care of her in ways he could not. In the painting she ignored Edward, as if he wasn't there, as if he didn't even exist. Because in this alternate universe he was imagining, he didn't exist. He was no one to her, merely the guy working behind the counter.

Edward rubbed both of his hands over his tired eyes, surprised to be wiping away a few wet tears as well.

When he looked up again at the painting, it was back to a still life of four people forever frozen in time. They were no longer talking to each other and the woman's hair was back to fiery red.

He sighed loudly. He was so exhausted he was hallucinating. But it had felt so real.

~O~X~O~X~O~X~O~X~

Edward sat back down for a while, but couldn't stay still, he was restless to get back and find out how Bella was doing. In spite of the possibility of losing his life by Charlie's hand.

As he approached Bella's room, he saw that the hallway was now more crowded. No sign of Charlie, but Billy Black was there, and Sam, from the reservation.

There were two chairs left, one next to Billy and one several feet away. Edward chose the one farthest away, not sure how welcomed he would be by the two men.

His head slightly ducked down, as if he could hide himself that way, he glanced cautiously at Billy. Amazingly, he saw only compassion and concern on the older man's face. And a kind smile focused on him.

Billy gestured to the chair next to him. "You can sit next to me Edward, I promise I don't bite."

Fumbling, Edward got up and moved, still unsure that he shouldn't have stayed where he was, but eased slightly by the man's welcoming appearance.

Pulling a note pad that the nurses had given him from his pocket, he wrote his response to Billy.

Charlie's the one I'm worried about. Although I certainly deserve anything he would do to me.

Billy chuckled but then tilted his head as he looked at Edward sadly. "I've known Charlie for a long time, Edward, we've been friends since we were younger pups. He's gruff and brash, but his bark is far worse than his bite, believe me. Right now, Charlie is out of his mind with worry about Bella; he can't think of anything but the fact that his precious little girl is lying in that room hurting. But he would never hurt you, Edward.

And you certainly shouldn't say you deserve to be hurt or punished, Edward. It wasn't your fault."

You don't know, you weren't there. I couldn't do anything to help her. Edward fought back more tears, and swallowed hard against the lump in his throat as he forced himself to write the words.

Billy reached over and placed his hand on Edward's shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"Son, you are helping her, you are her healer, she needs you. The spirits show it to be so. She draws from your light. She will be fine, I promise. Because she has you."

Edward could only shake his head. Billy was just trying to placate him, to make him feel better. But he knew the real truth.

A few more hours passed. Charlie never left Bella's room and Edward stayed in the hall. Billy and Sam remained there as well. Billy had come because Charlie had been there for him through everything he'd had to deal with Jacob's death. And now Billy was going to stay and be there for him, no matter how long it took for Bella to wake up. Sam had driven Billy up from the reservation.

Billy tried to get Edward to go get something to eat or go lay down on one of the waiting room sofas, but Edward refused. He would keep nodding off ever so often but would always snap back awake, physically refusing to let his body succumb to sleep.

Billy and Sam finally headed down to the cafeteria to get some coffee and breakfast for everyone. Edward was nodding off again when Bella's door banged open, jerking him upright immediately. Charlie leaned out and yelled down the hall for the nurses, the doctors, anyone who was in earshot.

Edward's heart thumped hard in his chest.

Bella was awake.

The door slammed shut and Edward sat there for a moment, his whole body shaking. She was awake. Finally. Oh thank you God, thank you.

When he felt capable of it, Edward stood and walked slowly toward the door. He got close enough that he could see in through the small window, but stayed far enough back that he wouldn't be noticed.

Bella's eyes were open, her lips were moving. Edward exhaled for what felt like the first time all night. He had never seen a more beautiful sight.

She was looking over toward her father; they obviously were having a conversation. She started leaning her head up off the pillow and Charlie placed his hand on her forehead, obviously telling her to lie back and take it easy.

Edward smiled but it barely stretched across his face. Seeing her eyes and her mouth moving, talking silently, reminded him of the painting in the waiting room and the vision he had imagined. Of her life without him in it. Of how happy she had been. Of how happy she could be.

Billy said she needed him, that he was her healer. Well, she was awake now, she didn't need him anymore, not that he really believed Billy's words. And if she still needed healing then he knew what he could do to help her.

Edward touched his fingertips lightly to the glass and took another deep painful breath while he drank in the image of her, ingraining her into his memory.

Let her be okay.

He let his fingers drop and he took a small step backward.

And then he turned silently, and walked away, down the long corridor and out the hospital doors.


A/N: *passes the tissues around* Hang in there, and have faith. :)