Fix You

Chapter Nine

Bella's POV

There's something not quite right between Carlisle and his wife.

This thought flickers through my mind as I sit upright in the hospital bed - something that I've grown completely tired of - and stare straight ahead at my empty room. I've no idea how long I've been stuck here, but it feels too long already. I want to get out of here; it feels claustrophobic, just like the cafe had done, and I feel vulnerable to attack again.

My flat isn't exactly safe either, but at least I'm free to do whatever I like in there. I can make my own food (even if it will, inevitably, taste awful) and I won't need assistance to visit the toilet.

It's hard walking, but I've been given crutches to support my weight with. The gunshot wound is healing well, but I can still remember the moment when...

And, before I can even blink, I'm back there again amongst the fire and flames. James is leering down at me, smug at the pain he's caused.

My body feels hot, my lungs feel stuffed with cotton wool...

The darkness returns again with a vengeance.

I slowly open my eyes, gradually returning to the room. After drinking a much needed glass of water, I begin to wonder if the rest of my life will be like this. Will I always be plagued by horrific flashbacks, returning to the place where the nightmare happened?

Will Carlisle leave me?

His name has been in my mind practically all of the time. My thoughts are moving in some horrible, constant cycle; Carlisle, will he leave? James, Victoria, the poor man, fire, pain...

I take a deep breath, reminding myself to be calm.

Except it's one of the first times I've woken up without Carlisle by my side. It'd oddly disorientating.

And worrying.

He confuses me. Sometimes it's like he never wants to leave me; I've seen a look in his eyes sometimes. It's very brief, but it looks protective and... somehow intimate. We have a connection few would understand, but I've got a feeling it's about to be severed, because other times he looks so sad and regretful that I just know he's going to leave me.

It's selfish; he has to move on, but I need him. He's like air. Whenever he's near, everything seems bearable.

We've got ourselves into a very dangerous situation.

And it's clear to anybody that his wife disapproves of it. At first she was sympathetic, but now she looks like she hates me.

I can't really blame her; after all, I am stealing her wonderful husband away from her for brief amounts of time. If I were her, I'd cling onto Carlisle and never let go.

That thought catches me by surprise; I'm sounding... possessive.

There's a sudden knock at the door - something which makes me jump stupidly - and I glance up to see a doctor.

Not the doctor I really want to see.

Despite this, he performs some checks - all with a clipboard and pen in his hands - and after asking a few generic questions, he gives me a small smile. "I'm pleased to say that you'll be able to leave within the next couple of days, Miss Swan."

This causes a mixture of fear and joy.

"Obviously you'll have to take it very easily and you'll have regularly visits from a nurse, just to check you're making the right progress. I'd also recommend perhaps talking to somebody who can help ease your trauma following the experience you endured. Maybe a therapist."

All his words sound very serious and I nod, knowing that I should take his advice. These images in my head are crippling and I just really want them to disappear.

It terrifies me, but one way of being able to do that has stuck in my head; alcohol. I'm obviously not able to drink it here, but as soon as I'm home I'll be able to do whatever I like. Kind of.

But a tiny amount of wine would ease the pain, surely?

"Okay, thank you," I manage after a while. He leaves me in peace and, as I shuffle up to reach for some fruit, another knock at the door catches my attention.

My heart leaps into my throat somehow; it's Carlisle. The sight of him brings a wave of peace through me and I smile genuinely. Maybe I could screw the alcohol; Carlisle provides the kind of relief I need. Like some kind of drug.

I'm becoming too reliant on him. That fact is screaming at me, but there's nothing I can do.

"Carlisle," I murmur, watching as he sits beside me.

The look on his face makes my stomach feel light; there's worry in his eyes and he runs his hands through his hair, looking anxious.

Oh God, no.

"What's wrong?" I ask, afraid to hear the answer.

He looks at me for a very long time with his tired brown eyes; it's very intense, and I try to imagine the thoughts that are flickering through his head as he stares. His mouth opens and closes briefly, and he suddenly sits backwards nodding, as though he's made some important decision.

"Nothing's wrong, Bella," he says, managing a beautiful smile. The pain from his face disappears and I feel a flood of relief. "I've heard the good news about you leaving soon."

"Yeah, it's great news. The doctor thinks I'm gonna need therapy though, which is true. I can't stop having flashbacks," I add in a quiet voice.

"Me too," he admits, and I feel our connection strengthen. "But there are ways to cope with it. I can help you."

That must mean he's planning on staying in touch, doesn't it? "But aren't you leaving me as soon as I get out of hospital?" Asking this question makes me feel sick, but it's got to be done. He stares at me again, thinking wildly, I imagine.

"I'm not leaving you, Bella. I can't and I refuse to. We need each other to recover, and purely for that reason I will be keeping in contact."

I feel both disappointment and relief again. The complicated blend of emotions I've been experiencing over the past few weeks have been exhausting, but I can't help smiling at him. "Good."

What happens when we're both recovered, though?

I don't ask this question out loud; I settle for another one. "Is your wife happy with this?"

He visibly winces. "Not exactly... but she doesn't have to know."

My eyes widen. Is he planning on being deceptive? For my sake? That seems completely out of character.

At the same time, it's kind of exciting.

"Carlisle, is that a wise idea? If you're going against what she wants, then surely that's not the best thing to do?" I'm saying what's logical, but for once I want him to go against that.

"For the first time, I'm going to do what I want to do, not her." He sounds bitter but determined. He leans forward closer to me and I realise that, at this point, I'd give anything to read his mind.

"I won't be able to rest knowing that you're still damaged," he continues. "I want to keep in touch solely so that you... so you can recover, because that's my instinct." His voice falters and I wonder if he wants to say anything else. "It's a risk I need to take."

I feel oddly close to tears but just nod silently. "How are you going to explain it to her? You'll be away from her."

"It's completely against what I believe in, lying, but I have to. I'll say I have to take extra shifts at the hospital."

"How will you explain that you aren't earning extra money?"

He sighs heavily. "I'll think of something."

There's a long pause.

"Carlisle, this is risky. You don't have to do this for me." Even though I really, really want you to.

"I do, Bella," he says, meeting my eyes. "I really do."

"I-"

He cuts off my protests with a gentle finger on my lips. The closeness of his touch takes my breath away and I swallow shakily.

"It'll be fine. I promise. We'll help each other recover."

I never, ever thought this would happen. I thought he'd leave and that I'd have to cope on my own, but he's doing exactly what I'd wished he would. He's staying with me, helping me.

A part of me screams that this is going to end badly, but I ignore it. Thinking about Carlisle takes my mind off everything else, and I find myself smiling as I settle down to sleep later in the day.

Two weeks later

"Home sweet home!"

My voice sounds a little strained as Carlisle opens the door for me, but he seems oblivious. In the days approaching today, I've been feeling a little worried. It's going to be another change coming back home, but I'm ready. I think.

Carlisle drops down my bags onto the floor and looks around. "This is a lovely place, Bella."

"Thank you," I murmur, heading towards the kitchen. I never thought I'd be back here and it suddenly feels lovely. I appreciate everything once over, especially the comforting sound of the kettle boiling.

"Do you want a drink?" I ask. He quickly heads in behind me.

"Bella, I could have done that!"

"You're not gonna be around all the time, so I need to start getting used to being independent again," I say, being reasonable. He nods.

Admittedly, it is a bit of a struggle with my crutches, but I can manage without them for very brief periods of time. Carlisle hovers in the doorway, looking over protectively while I gather everything together, and soon we're sitting on the sofa, cups of coffee in our hands.

It reminds me of being in the cafe when we first met, but I try to ignore that comparison. No more flashbacks today.

"What did you tell Esme?"

His face scrunches up at the mention of her name and I fight back the thought that it's a good thing. "Do we have to talk about her, Bella?"

"Well, she is your... your wife," I reply, hating the word.

After rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, he answers, "I said I was going to an important meeting at work. I swear she was tempted to follow me in her car."

My body runs cold. "What if she does in the future?"

"That'd be interesting."

I turn towards him. "Do you even like her?"

This conversation is getting personal and I realise I might be getting too interested, so I apologise hastily. "Sorry, I'm being too nosey here. I just want you to be happy."

"That's a lot more than she ever wants for me. I will admit, Bella, I'm growing tired of her selfish attitude."

I want to scream Have you thought about divorce? but just nod. "Maybe you should do something about it."

We meet eyes. "Yes. Maybe I should."

There's a tense silence after that and I watch Carlisle glancing around curiously.

"I hope you don't think I'm rude," he says, obviously seeing that I've noticed. "I just think you've got a really interesting place."

"Interesting?" I ask, hoping for an explanation.

"It seems like you've made it very... you. That sounds odd, but it's like you've made your stamp on the place. Obviously that's what you usually do with a home, but I love how there are paintings, books, music stacked away everywhere. It's very... homely."

I stare at him after his mini-babble and he grins. He looks so beautiful; his eyes crinkle and look brilliantly alive. "I've got a strange interest in how people decorate their homes, that's all," he explains.

"That's all good, but the place is a mess. I need to have a good tidy up."

"It looks fine, Bella. And besides, there are other things you need to focus on."

You've got that right.

"I'm afraid, though, that I will have to leave in half an hour, or Esme will start to get suspicious."

His words make it feel like there's a gaping hole in my chest, but I just nod as though I understand. "Of course."

"But I will always be ready if you need me. I'll leave my mobile number..." He quickly scribbles it down and I watch as his hand produces the strangely elegant script. "And don't be afraid to call anytime."

He's being wonderful to me. Surely this must mean something?

I feel so confused.

But I know, when he leaves, I'll be craving his presence once again.

It can only mean one thing. I've gone and done something incredibly stupid.

I've completely fallen for him. A married man.

Like I said before, this can only end badly.