After much thought and deliberation, I have decided on the route for the rest of this story. Unconventional? Probably. But I don't think it's been done quite this way before. Anyway, it might bomb, but I'm gonna be brave and try it.

If you guys are like me, you thought it was a little strange that Bella suffered no long-lasting ill effects from the trauma she endured at the hands of James and Victoria. That seems a little odd…and that's the only hint you're getting.

Bella's POV:

It took me a long time to go back to sleep. Carlisle pulled some strings to allow Edward into the room with me. He was curled gently into the bed beside me, soothing my fears as nothing but his presence could. They'd tucked extra blankets around me, to ward off the chill, but my hand remained firmly in his. Sometimes that cold was the only thing that kept me grounded. Especially now.

I drifted in the haze of not awake and not asleep, the fine line between awareness and unconsciousness.

Carlisle's shift had been over a long time ago, but he hadn't gone home. Instead he'd taken up residence in my room. From long experience I knew he was worried about my nightmares. I should feel guilty for keeping him from Esme, but instead I only felt relief.

They must have thought I was asleep, because Edward spoke, very softly. "I'm worried, Carlisle, is this normal?"

I knew Carlisle would be sitting slightly forward in his chair, chin resting on his hands. It was easy to envision the thoughtful look in his ocher eyes as he mulled over Edward's question.

"PTSD," he replied at last, "yes, it's normal. You've seen the effects in humans before."

He was gong to say more, but a soft rustling told me someone else had entered the quiet room. To my shock it was Rosalie's voice.

"Esme wants to know if you're coming home later."

Carlisle hesitated, then, "Yes, after midnight I'll have to go, to avoid suspicion."

Rosalie didn't leave immediately. "How is she?"

Edward's voice was a quiet snarl. "Since when do you care?"

I had been wondering the same thing.

"Edward," Carlisle rebuked softly, before replying to Rose's question. "As well as can be expected."

"I still can't understand why she did it."

Edward spoke again. "Because she loves us. With a deeper, more devoted love than any of us deserve. She did it for you, too, Rose."

She snorted. "Sure she did. Tell me something, Carlisle, if you'd had any inkling at all that she was going to do that, would you have shoved her aside and taken that bullet anyway?"

Carlisle didn't say anything. Rosalie's next words were directed at Edward, acerbic and full of spite. "Would he?"

Edward's answer was a few moments in coming, but it came.

"Yes," he said bleakly. "He would have."

And none of us needed Alice to know how that future would have played out.

I couldn't stay awake any longer, and allowed myself to sleep in the security of Edward's arms. In fact, the next morning the whole conversation was so murky in my mind I had trouble believing I hadn't dreamed it.

But it was there. Waiting. Like my fears.

Like the faceless gunman that still haunted my nightmares, and sometimes even my waking hours.

Alice was uncharacteristically subdued the next morning, when she came to sit with me. Renee had had to fly back to Florida the night before, and Charlie had to work, so it fell largely to the Cullens to stay with me. A cop had come by to take my statement when I was deemed well enough. Rehashing the whole horrible experience had not been nice. At all.

"Bella," Alice said, a little impatiently.

"I'm sorry. What?"
"I was telling you, I have to step out for a second – Esme wants to talk to me about something. Will you be all right?"

NO! I wouldn't be all right!

"Hurry back," I forced past my lips. "But I'll be fine."
She threw another searching glance into my face, but nodded and left quickly.

The door shut behind her, and I was alone.

My eyes darted towards the bathroom door – it was slightly ajar. Had they checked that since last night?

A flicker of movement caught my eye. I jumped violently, wincing as a shaft of pain darted through my abdomen.

It was the just the air vent. This time.

Slowly, I pulled the covers up to my chin, trying to shake off the goose bumps that crawled up my skin and prickled the back of my neck.

That shadow, just around the corner. Was it just me…or did it move slightly?

The door bumped open, and I choked back a building scream as I realized it was just Carlisle.

My heartbeat ratcheted up a notch before I could stop it.

He shut it softly behind him. "I'm sorry, Bella, I should have knocked," he said, turning back to watch me.

"It's fine," I aimed for a lighthearted tone, but my voice was a ragged gasp.

He frowned, looking at the readout on one of the machines. "Where's Alice?" he asked, sitting down next to the bed.

"Talking to Esme," I answered.

He tugged on my wrist, and I realized I was still clenching the sheet tightly in my fists. Embarrassed, I released my grip immediately.

His gaze was sympathetic and assessing. "Bella, I know it was hard to talk to Officer McCauley earlier. I'm sure the memories are difficult for you."

I couldn't stop the tears from dripping down my cheeks. "I hate being so frightened, Carlisle. It's irrational and stupid, but I see him everywhere. I can't help but feel vulnerable."

"It's normal," he said quietly. "I've seen countless people endure this after a trauma. Sometimes the aftermath is worse than the actual event. I'm sure you've heard of post-traumatic stress disorder?"

At my small nod, he continued, "I would normally send someone suffering from this to a counselor, but I don't think that's in your best interest. After all, you couldn't speak honestly with him. There's really no point."

I cringed at the thought of sharing my deepest fears with a stranger, glad that Carlisle was right – yes, I could speak honestly. If I wanted to spend my life in a padded cell. Well, you see, I threw myself in front of a bullet to keep my vampire father's secret. It won't harm him, you know, he's made of stone…oh yeah, my best friend's not speaking to me. He's a werewolf, by the way.

Gently, Carlisle brushed away my tears with the pad of his thumbs. "Vampires can get PTSD too, you know. Jasper has the worst case I've ever seen. Years and a loving family have helped him get through most of it, but some of those old habits and feelings are still there. He understands what you're going through. You need to talk to him about it."

He paused, "Rosalie, too, would understand, but under the circumstances I don't think she's the best choice."

I thought about the conversation I'd overheard the night before. "No, I guess she isn't."

Carlisle glanced towards the door. "I know Edward and Alice are at school. He'll be here the minute it lets out, but as you know Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie supposedly already graduated. So if you want to talk to Jasper now, it would be the ideal time."

I hesitated. "He wouldn't…mind?"

Carlisle smiled gently. "On the contrary, Bella, he's anxious to do anything at all to help, in any way he can. We all are. We love you, Bella, you're part of our family now."

He smoothed back a strand of my hair. "Shall I call him?"

I bit my lip. "Please," I whispered.

To my relief, he didn't leave the room, just went to the door and called Jasper's name softly. Only when Jasper stepped inside the room did Carlisle give me one last reassuring smile and leave.

I tried to relax as Jasper soundlessly seated himself in the chair that Carlisle had just vacated.

I'm going to start recommending stories at the end of every chapter. Recommendations for the day are:

Heart of Ice by Midnight Sun. Read it. You won't be disappointed...and don't forget to leave a review!

Without A Doubt by catharticone.