Just sitting in the parking lot of the hospital made Paul feel close to phasing. But he listened to the sound of the car's motor, of the humming, and took a deep breath. He had to do this. He had to see her. He had to know… He had to see her broken so he could focus on making sure she was built up again. He had already seen it once, before it even meant anything. After the leech had left her.

This was different. This was … after he started to see her as something.

"She's on the sixth floor." So high up. But Paul followed Sam, the shoes and clothing feeling foreign on him. It had felt like forever since he had last worn them. But was it really only three days ago when he was staying over at Sam's?

They went slow, and whenever Paul felt like it was too much, like he was working himself up or getting too overwhelmed, they'd wait until Paul calmed down again. Sam had the fucking patience of a saint. Paul hated him for it. Sometimes he wished Sam would just get angry about something. But he never saw him angry. He never saw him remotely angry in the way that you were supposed to be. He was just firm.

Fucking perfect wolf.

When they reached her hall, Paul paused and swallowed, clutching the wall.

"We're almost there," Sam insisted. "She's about four rooms down." Paul took a deep breath, breathing in all the artificial scents of alcohol pads, too clean floors, and sick people. This was the coma ward. But each room they passed, Paul could just smell death. Cancer. Terminal illnesses. He didn't know how he knew what it smelled like, maybe he was just making it up, to make the walk feel worse. But he swore he could smell something that wasn't right in the air around him.

Until they got to her room. Sam lightly knocked on the door with the back of his knuckles.

"Is she going to answer?" Paul asked, a tad sarcastic, but his will wasn't in it. He was about to see her and he didn't know what she even looked like.

"No, but a nurse could be in here. It's polite," Sam said under his breath. He opened the door, but didn't swing it open entirely. Just a crack. Just enough for Paul to smell the soft floral scent she carried on her. She was a rose. Soft, but hard when she wanted to be. And sharp. She hurt just to try and get in his grasp. A pain that Paul hadn't much thought of before. But one that he would happily endured if she walked out of here. If she would let him. "She's in pretty rough shape, Paul… I just want to warn you." Paul swallowed, nodding, but Sam didn't budge. "She's not in pain, but she's covered in wires and tubes and a few casts… She doesn't feel any of it. It was the first thing Charlie asked… But she looks… When I first saw her, I didn't even think it was her."

What did she have? A caved in skull? But that wasn't even something to joke about, because thinking of her with that… fuck. It killed him inside. Paul nodded again, and Sam opened the door all the way. At first, he didn't know it was her. Like Sam said, she was covered in something everywhere. A blanket kept her lowerhalf covered, but it bulged in a way that it hadn't before. Paul had practically memorized her form sleeping on Jake's couch when she was in high school, what she looked like when she was laying on top of him. It was all wrong. Blocky, chunky. He focused on that first.

"She's got a leg cast and there are a shit load of pins in her hips to keep them somewhat straight. She's not as swollen today, but they say that she still won't be normal until it starts to heal." Paul swallowed. Fuck. His gaze traveled up to her arms, where an intricate set of metal was sticking out of her hands. "They had to restructure her hand." It was nearly purple from bruising. What else on her was bruised, that they couldn't see? Fuck…. Her arm had a cast as well, and he saw people were already signing it. Friends, family. People that had heard and traveled to see her. He recognized a few as people she went to High School with. People that came to the graduation party on the reservation. And then he looked to her head.

His breath left him in a silent whimper. Jesus Christ. Her eyes were completely bruised. And her nose was crusted with blood, as if it had just dried from bleeding. It was broken, a strip pressed against it to help it heal. It was a common thing for a broken nose to cause eyes to bruise. Hell, he had a few broken noses in his day. He knew that. But it wasn't what caught his attention the most. It was the gauze taped to her face, down her jawline where he knew there would be scars from the surgery they had to do to repair the damage. Sam was explaining everything they had done, but Paul wasn't listening anymore. There wasn't some part of his face that wasn't bruised. And following the gauze, he saw that some of her hair had been shaved from the left side of her head, along the stitches.

He couldn't get any closer than he was. About four feet away from the bedside. "I… I can't do this."

Sam stopped talking and glanced back to Paul. Paul couldn't move his eyes from her lips, cracked and scabbed from where she had probably bitten them in the accident. Jesus fuck. She was so much worse than he had pictured in his head. He had pictured her to look perfect, to look like she normally did, just asleep. Not… not this.

"Just breathe," Sam said quietly. "She's not going to jump up and scare you or anything. Focus on keeping your breathing even." Paul nodded. He could do that. He started to count in his head, breathing in time with that. And when he got close enough to hear her heartbeat, his breathing began to match that instead. He calmed down.

She looked awful. Like an angel that had crashed onto earth. "She doesn't feel anything," Sam continued quietly. "They're keeping her medicated. They're keeping her fed. Emily sits by her while I'm at work and reads to her a few books she found in Charlie's garage. Her old stuff from high school." Paul glanced to the stack of books on the bedside table, where a few cards were also sitting. "Charlie's here between work and when the hospital staff kicks him out for not taking care of himself. Jake and Angela are here every morning. She's only alone at night."

Her heart monitor was beeping steadily.

"Are they post-poning for sure now?"

"Yeah," Sam said quietly. "They won't do it without her." Paul figured that Bella would be pretty pissed when she woke up and found that out. She was always pissed when people did things for her. That was why that "Pre-wedding" party they held was called that. Not a "Welcome Back" party. She would have thrown a fit about how they were making a big deal about her. She didn't like to be in the center of attention. She didn't like to be in the spotlight. Paul understood that.

"They say if you talk to her, she might be able to hear you."

Paul snorted. "Right, because that's what she wants. Me to talk to her and she's unable to tell me to get the fuck out. Or to say something back." Paul chewed on his lip.

"Her favorite book is Wuthering Heights." Paul didn't even know what that meant. But he glanced towards the books again and found the title. "You okay?"

"Yeah… I think so."

"They don't want you to touch the wounds, but you can touch her other hand and hold it if you want to." Paul shot Sam a look that told him he was clearly losing it. He wasn't going to do that shit. "I'm going to leave you here. I'll give you the week off for patrols, until you figure shit out… sit with her."

Paul was about to protest, but no. Sit with her. What if he couldn't sit with her again? What if when she woke up, she wouldn't want him near her? Fuck, was it selfish to want to sit with her now?

"I should go-"

"Paul, you know you need to see her." Paul knew that. He needed to remember this. Like he remembered Emily. Because Bella was his Emily. Only, she was nothing like that at all. Sam said a quiet hello to Bella, promising he'd be back tomorrow, and then the door clicked shut behind him.

Paul stood there for a moment, silent, unsure of what to say. And then he moved slowly to the chair on the opposite side of the bed, on her uninjured side. "I'm just going to say it because no one else has probably said this yet, but you look like shit." Paul paused, as if waiting for her to jump up and start telling him he was a piece of shit, so he must know. But she didn't. And he swallowed, rubbing his face with his hands, before he exhaled. "It's pointless to talk to you if you don't talk back. That's the whole point, to get you riled up. It's… fuck, it's really funny when you're angry. You're really… kinda cute or some shit. Don't quote me on that if you can really hear me." He took in her hair again. "You'll be pretty pissed when you see your hair, though. Fuck, they sort of gave you an awful haircut."

She looked ... like she was in pain. His eyes darted to the heart monitor, where it beeped steadily. If she felt anything, would it beep faster? He didn't know how long he sat there in silence, before his fingers lightly touched her hand. He almost wanted her to flinch away. Anything would have been better than her steady breathing and stillness. It was unnatural. It was … not Bella.

His fingertips lightly touched her knuckles, and then down her fingers, before he pulled his hand away sharply. Was it… considered like molestation? He was touching her without her consent. And… fuck. He just wanted to hold her hand. "Sorry," he muttered. He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. Her skin was soft, warm. And … frail feeling. She felt so frail. When Charlie came, with his lunch, Paul shifted in his seat, clearing his throat, before standing.

"No, no, you sit down," Charlie insisted. But Paul didn't. He let Charlie have the chair. "Nice to see you're back. Where were you?"

"Running," Paul shrugged. "You know, just… everywhere."

"Yeah," Charlie agreed quietly. "It's good you're back… I know about..."

"Yeah," Paul said awkwardly. "Sam said."

"Does that mean that… you really love her?"

Paul swallowed. Fuck, he didn't know. He never said it outloud before. But he exhaled and seemed to deflate slightly as he glanced at her. "Yeah. We've had our ups and downs, but yeah."

"You were pushing her away, Sam said." Fuck Sam. Why the fuck was he telling Charlie this? But fuck him, Paul respected no one like he did Charlie. Charlie was one of the guys, really. Him and Billy. Charlie could down a few beers and talk about a game that was on with no problem. Charlie cared for no one as much as he did Bella. "You know, in high school, especially after she started hanging out with you guys, she always got…" The words seemed to choke him a minute and Paul stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. "She'd come home from the reservation so happy. She'd talk about how Jake and you would get in a fight over a hot dog or something, and think it was the funniest thing. She talked about you all the time after… you know, the other one left."

Paul swallowed. Shit. She… she started to like him back then? Why didn't he fucking say anything? He could have said something and prevented all of this. "She's something else."

"I just wish she'd wake up," Charlie sighed.

"Yeah, me too."

"They don't know if she'll have brain damage or not from the crash. Memory loss or anything…" Charlie reached for her hand, doing exactly what Paul had stopped himself from doing, and clutched it tightly. "Thank you… Sam said that because of the imprint, she's stronger than she would be on her own."

Paul nodded as Charlie glanced up to him for confirmation. "I guess. That's what they tell me." Charlie glanced back to Bella. "We're not… we're not safe when we're angry. I just… she makes me so angry."

"Because you've never felt like that about anyone before," Charlie said quietly. Paul tensed. What the fuck was Sam telling him? All of Paul's secrets? Fuck. He needed to have a talk with his alpha. "So you tried to push her away, so that she'd be safe."

"It's the only thing I know how to do," Paul admitted. Charlie heard and met his eyes. "Push people away. Make them hate me. My dad did it. I do it." Paul shrugged like it was nothing, but it was eating him away. "She's safer without me."

"She would have really died without you, son," Charlie insisted. "I may not know much about you guys, but I know that it's because of you my little girl's still alive." Paul swallowed at the tears in the man's eyes and tried to look away, but couldn't. "And she's going to be okay. Because of this love at first sight stuff you guys do. The same thing as ducks apparently."

Paul snorted. "Yeah. Imprinting." He glanced back to Bella, his arms crossed. "Thanks, Chief, for the talk… I should probably go."

"Back to running?"

Paul shook his head. "Nah, I haven't slept in three days. I'll start there and figure everything else out after that."

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