A/N: First, I just want to say I'm touched and humbled by every one of you that left me a review stating your concern for my husband's condition. You guys are the best, and I thank you.

He's doing much better than what he was last week. He's awake, communicating with us, and is slowly gaining his memory back. Unfortunately, he's not 100% and there are still some things that I'm watching, but we've been through similar situations before. It will just take patience and time, which is something I've learned is the only thing that will heal. I'll keep you all updated as we go, and you can send me a pm or email if you have questions.

Thank goodness for stored up chapters. If I hadn't had the insight to know that something bad could happen that would prevent me from writing, you'd all be waiting much longer for this. I hope to get back to the story soon, but I've taken a break to concentrate on other projects. I really needed a break from the heartache and angst for my own sanity. Mainly, I've been working on my outtake for fandoms4floods—if you haven't donated yet, please go do it now.

Chapter song this time is Letter to God by Hole.

As always, my thanks to Mizzdee, Dinx, and JointGifts. These girls rock my socks and keep me on track. I'd be in a lot of trouble if it wasn't for my wonderful betas. Lots of love, ladies. Mwah!

All right, I'm a wordy bitch today. Let's get on with it.


Chapter 11

~.~.~

Letter to God


June 19, 2003

Loud footsteps thundered outside Edward's pseudo-room and reverberated through the space. When they stopped, a hushed conversation took place, and then the curtain was pulled back, revealing Emmett and Rosalie. Emmett crossed the room in four large steps and swept me up in a bear hug. He held me tight with his head tucked into the crook of my neck. The action made me slightly uncomfortable, because Emmett had never acted like that with me, and I looked toward Rose. Well, some things never change, I thought. Rosalie stood off to the side with an incredulous look. It was obvious her husband's actions didn't sit well with the blonde.

Emmett pulled back and released his grip. I looked up, noticing his eyes were red-rimmed and glassy. He stared at me with a sad expression.

"What happened, Bella?" he choked out. "I get a call earlier that I have to hurry down here, and that my brother is in bad shape. Why the hell is he hooked up to all this shit?"

I began telling him everything I knew up to that point, sparing no detail. His face morphed from pain to anger when I retold the bathroom incident. His growl cut my rambling off mid-sentence.

"What the fuck was he thinking?" Emmett seethed in a whisper. "If he wasn't already in the hospital, I'd..."

"You always were too good for Edward," he said to me. "But, at the same time, I was glad you guys were together, because I knew that you were capable of loving him like he deserved."

I blinked in shock because the words didn't make sense. This was Emmett, who always made comments about how it'd be better if I left his so-called worthless brother. He was the responsible, caring one, and the one that you could always count on. Edward and Emmett couldn't get along because they were like fire and gunpowder, a lethal mix when combined. So, it was strange to hear Emmett say something positive about my relationship with Edward, even if it was only pertained to me.

"Well, drunk or not, the idiot should know better than to..." Rosalie began. Bitch was seriously going to piss me off if she finished that sentence. Emmett raised his hand in her direction and shook his head, stopping her rant.

"Rose, baby, why don't you and Sue go and see if anyone else is here," he suggested with a pointed look toward his wife. She glared and then spun on her heel, leaving the room without a backwards glance. I threw Sue an apologetic look as she followed Rosalie's dramatic exit, but she just smiled as she left.

Emmett pulled two chairs from across the room beside Edward's bed. Huh. I hadn't noticed them before, but that wasn't surprising. My mind had been oblivious to everything but Edward when I had first gone in. He motioned for me to sit in the one next to Edward's head, and I complied. Taking the other one by his feet, Emmett sat down and stared at his brother. I was quiet as he raked his eyes over my love, stopping at his face. A soft sob escaped the large man, and I reached over and offered my hand for comfort. He took it and squeezed my small hand in his.

"I should have been there," Emmett said, sniffing.

"Emmett, you were here, running Mason Unlimited, doing what you were supposed to," I reasoned.

Emmett sighed and raked his palm across his face. "What I needed to do was be there for my brother, to help him get off the drugs and quit drinking. Instead, I turned my back on him and ran to Seattle so I didn't have to deal with it."

"He hates me, you know," he continued. "Before I left, he told me that he was ashamed that I would choose a bitch like Rosalie over his own flesh and blood."

I gasped; this was something that I hadn't known before. It was easy to surmise the time he was talking about, because Edward had disappeared for three days after promising he'd only be at Emmett's house for an hour to tell him goodbye. When he finally came home, he was drunk and ready to argue.

~.~.~.~

February 23, 2002

I woke up with a start, wondering what the hell had disturbed my sleep. A crash sounded from the front of the house, and it startled me. I looked over to Edward's side of the bed—nope, he was still gone. There I was, probably about to be raped and murdered while he was still out partying.

Bastard.

I really hoped the dope was worth it, because I was going to come back and haunt his ass.

There was another loud clang, and then a string of expletives started. Frightened out of my mind, I grabbed the bat beside the bed, threw the covers off, and climbed off the mattress slowly. Mindful of my steps, I tip-toed toward the door, opened it, and peeked out. The hallway was dark and empty. I took a deep breath and entered into the space, creeping cautiously toward the sound.

As I entered the doorway to the living room, I saw a tall figure standing next to the couch. Their hands were in their hair and the person—who resembled a man—looked agitated. Quietly as I could, I walked over to the person standing in my living room, raised the bat over my shoulder, and then swung it with all my might.

"Fucking...ow...shit!" a male voice screamed. Lost in a haze and really not caring who was in pain, I raised the bat and hit them again. More cursing and shouting came from them, and I raised it a third time.

"Fucking bastard! Think you can come in my house?" I hollered, ready to beat the intruder to a pulp. I was woman and this fucker was about to hear me roar.

"Bella! Stop!" the voice pleaded. I froze, the fog lifting, and the words began to register. Realization finally hit me, and, holy shit, I had just beat the hell out of Edward.

I dropped the bat and rushed over to turn on the lamp. Light flooded the room, and I noticed Edward was slumped over, clutching his side. Wow, I thought, I'm stronger than I realized. Immediately, I went to him and began examining his torso. He flinched and backed away from me, swaying slightly in the process.

"Just...don't, okay?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

Great, he was pissed. All I had tried to do was save my ass, and my pussy, from the evil clutches of a possible home invade /sicko. What the fuck? Had he expected me to ask if he wanted some tea and biscuits before I swung, keeping up with some kind of bad guy etiquette I wasn't privy to? Well, his bad temper and disappearing ass could go suck it.

Tired, and not wanting to deal with the drama, I rolled my eyes and walked back toward the bedroom. I figured if he had taken care of himself for the past three days, he could take care of himself again. Besides, from his demeanor, I could tell he didn't want my help anyway.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Back to bed," I replied and continued to our room. The adrenaline rush I had experienced when I confronted Edward was gone, and I was really tired. I noticed, as I climbed back into bed, that the clock on the night stand read 3:26. No wonder I'm so tired, I thought as I climbed into bed, pulling the covers under my chin and turning on my side.

Just when I was drifting to that place between sleep and wakefulness, Edward burst into the room, causing me to jump.

"What the hell, Bella?" Edward shouted.

"Edward, please," I whined. "I'm really tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

"No. Why did you hit me with a bat?" he questioned.

"Really?" I seethed, throwing the covers off and onto the floor. Apparently, I wasn't getting any sleep, so I stood up and faced him.

"Maybe I hit you because I thought you were an intruder!" I yelled, getting louder with each word.

He looked at me with a puzzled expression. I closed my eyes and counted to ten while I contemplated getting the bat I'd left in the other room. As I became more awake, I noticed that Edward had, once again, come home drunk. His clothes were rumpled, and his eyes were glassy and blood-shot. A flushed face and the slight stagger in his gait confirmed my assumptions. This is just what I wanted, I mused silently. A fight with Drunk Edward. This was going to be fun.

Not.

"What the fuck ever," Edward said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"No, not what the fuck ever, asshole. You've been gone for three days. How was I supposed to know that it was you banging around in there? You know what, I'm not dealing with this right now," I said and grabbed my pillow and a blanket from the end of the bed.

"I'm sleeping on the couch. Enjoy the bed, jerk," I called out as I left the room.

I stomped out into the hallway on my way to the living room couch. When I reached it, I plopped down and threw my blanket and pillow on it. I lay down and covered up, closing my eyes. As I lay there, I thought about my idiot of a boyfriend. Why did he continue to do this to me? If I had wanted to be alone, I'd have lived by myself.

That night, I didn't hear anything more from Edward. I wasn't sure if it was because the alcohol finally hit him and he passed out, or that he was so shocked I had stood up to him for the first time that he decided to leave me alone. Whatever it was, I was able to fall asleep quickly in the quiet house.

~.~.~.~

I grabbed Edward's hand and intertwined our fingers, trying to connect with him. Even through all his faults, I still loved him. It didn't matter if we were fighting, apart, happy, or sad; the one thing that always stayed the same was our loyalty and love for one another.

Emmett squeezed my shoulder with his large hand. I turned toward him and saw he wasn't looking at me, but at his brother. It was easy to see how hard this was on him by the tears trapped in his eyes and the way his gaze never left Edward. I didn't know what he was thinking, but if he was like me, I was sure he was running the countless what ifs in his head that might have prevented us from getting to that point in time.

"Bella," Emmett whispered, pulling me from my thoughts. "Is...Are you really done with Edward?"

The question caught me off guard—no one had asked me if things between Edward and I were still finished. Instead, they glossed over that particular fact and continued to treat me as if nothing had happened. While I appreciated that they seemed willing to allow me to be at Edward's side, it was strange that no one had questioned it. I turned to Emmett and took a deep breath.

"Honestly? I don't know. Things were so...fucked up the other night. Since then, I've come to realize that I still love Edward and want to be with him, but I can't go back to the way things were. So, really, it's up to him. When he wakes up, if he's willing to go to treatment, then I'll stay. But if he refuses, I have to leave him, Emmett. I can't sit around for the rest of my life wondering if the next time he goes out will be the time he never comes home again," I spoke with a tremble in my voice.

Emmett nodded his head and palmed his face. "I get it. You know, whatever you decide...I'm here for you. I realize that I haven't been, but Bella, know that I've always thought of you as a sister. I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you guys needed me the most," Emmett said with tears in his eyes.

Any question I had regarding Emmett's feelings toward his brother disappeared with his gut-wrenching display. I knew that the brothers had been close at one time, but I'd figured when they had their falling out that, at least on Emmett's end, there was no love lost. It seemed, though, I was wrong, and his concern didn't end with Edward, but also extended to me. Until he said those words, I had no idea he felt that way about me. He'd always been polite in passing but had never shown any indication that I was like a sister to him.

The clack of heels sounded outside the curtain, followed by the shuffle of multiple feet. Emmett and I turned to the sound and watched as the curtain was yanked open. Esme, Carlisle, and Alice poured into the tiny space. Each face showed signs of shock and sadness as they registered Edward laid out in front of us. Esme was the first to approach. I got out of my chair and moved out of the way. She took my spot, and ran her hand over Edward's cheek. Esme began to sob openly and laid her head down on his torso. Carlisle walked up behind her, bent down, and wrapped his arms around his wife.

The scene before me was almost more than I could take. Trying to keep myself together, I crept silently toward the curtain. When I walked by Emmett, I noticed that Rosalie had taken a similar stance as Carlisle around her husband. Alice stood against the wall, watching her loved ones fall apart and hugging herself tightly.

I walked outside of the tense bubble and secured the drapery. Immediately, the hustle and bustle going on around me inundated my senses. It was a little disorienting going from the sadness behind the curtain to the professionalism of the outside world. The staff moved about like Edward's condition meant nothing, and in some ways, it probably didn't. To them, it was just another day.

With my head pointed to the floor, I began walking toward the double doors for the waiting room. I passed the nurses' station, and someone stopped me. A little confused, I walked over and waited for them to speak.

"Are you here for Mr. Cullen?" the young nurse asked.

"Uh...yeah," I replied.

"Dr. Cullen has requested all family members be directed to the family area over there," she explained, pointing to a small hallway by the exit. I thanked her and headed in that direction. Three doors down, I saw a small area that opened up into a cozy waiting room. The walls were painted a soft blue, and the furniture was a darker shade. Seated around the room were Jasper, his parents, Sue, and my father. When did he get here and how long was I back with Edward?

As soon as Erin, Jasper's mom, saw me, she jumped up from her seat and engulfed me in a tight hug. I welcomed her affection, knowing her concern was genuine. Erin had always worn her heart on her sleeve and couldn't stand for anyone to be in pain. She was always the person you could go to when you needed advice or just wanted to vent. Out of all the adults in our life, Erin was the most trusted one because she never betrayed any of us.

"How are you holding up, sweetie?" Erin whispered in my ear.

"I don't know," I choked out.

"He's going to be fine. Just you wait and see," she said with determination. I pulled back and looked into her eyes. There was nothing other than resolve shining back at me. It relaxed me; Erin was never one to tell you something just to comfort you, so I knew she believed what she said.

She rubbed my back for a few minutes and then released me. I placed my hand on her shoulder in a silent thank you as I walked toward my father and Sue. He stood and pulled me down into a chair between them. Charlie wrapped his arm around my shoulders and Sue grabbed my hand. Their affection made me feel loved, something that I had missed while I sat next to Edward moments before.

While sitting there, trying to keep my dark thoughts at bay, I looked over at Jasper sitting in the corner with his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands. It was a pitiful sight, but I was having trouble feeling any sympathy toward him. A part of me blamed him for Edward having to be there.

Rationally I knew that Edward was the one at fault. He was the one who decided to get drunk and sit on a moving car. But the rational side of me was being held captive by my emotional side. For years, I watched as Jasper and Edward's addictive tendencies fed off of each other. Neither could go a day without some sort of chemical in their systems. When one of them was looking for something, the other always found a way to provide.

In a way, I blamed Jasper for a lot of Edward's problems. He was the one who introduced Edward to the world of drugs, and later on, its culture. It had started out as curious boys sneaking drinks from forgotten beer bottles and had morphed into adolescents chasing a bigger and better high. As the years went by, I was less of a priority to Edward and became his second love. The nearest chemical substance was what he really craved. Love, affection, and even sex, didn't compare to whatever drug he'd decided to ingest.

Looking at Jasper, I wondered if what had happened to his best friend was torturing him. If he was sitting there, running every action and decision through his mind while trying to figure out where it went wrong. I wasn't a vengeful person, but couldn't help wanting him to feel as bad as I did. His enabling had helped bring us where we were, coupled with everyone else's unwillingness to address the problem.

We were all guilty, in one form or another, of contributing to Edward's road to destruction. His best friend, with his connections and prodding, my enabling and turning a blind eye, his siblings' indifference, his mother's coddling, his father's inattention, and Edward's refusal to be anything but an addict had led us to that moment where Edward had hit bottom.

I shook my head, trying to shake the thoughts from my mind. It wasn't going to do any good to go there. At that moment, all of my focus needed to be on what was going to happen in the near future.

I didn't notice that Alice had entered the room until she was standing over me. Her eyes were puffy and red, possibly from crying, and her posture was slumped.

"Um…Mom wanted to know if you'd come back," she said in a small voice.

"Sure," I said.

She turned and walked out of the room. I was confused by the exchange, trying to understand her abrupt entrance and departure. When I looked over at my dad, he just shrugged his shoulders as if to say 'I have no idea.' I decided not to delay the inevitable and followed her out of the room. As I made my way back to where Edward was being kept, I wondered what Esme could have possibly wanted.

All eyes were on me as I entered, and it made me slightly self-conscious. Esme stood up from her chair, pulling me into a corner away from her son.

"Bella, where did you go? I looked up and didn't see you," Esme asked.

"Um, I wanted to give you time with Edward…" I started to explain, but Esme cut me off.

"Why would you think we'd want you to leave? You're as much—" Esme began, but the sound of the curtain being pulled back stopped her words.

An older man dressed in blue scrubs joined us, flanked by two others who appeared slightly younger. He held a brown clipboard in his hand that was filled with numerous papers and a pen stuck under the silver clip. Carlisle stood and went to shake the older man's hand. As they exchanged greetings, I took in the rest of him. He was wearing a blue cap to match his outfit and a stethoscope was wrapped around the back of his neck. The more I looked at him, the clues began to come together. This was the doctor we had all been waiting on.

The older doctor finished speaking with Carlisle and motioned for us to follow him. Esme, Alice, Emmett, Carlisle, Rosalie, and I filed out of the room, trailing behind him. We were led to a small room that was furnished with only a couch, two chairs, and nothing else. The lack of a personal touch made the room seem cold and sterile. Once everyone was inside, the doctor shut the door behind him and turned to us.

"All right, we don't have a lot of time, but I wanted to talk to you all before we get started. My name is Dr. Painter. As you know, Edward has been scheduled for surgery. At Forks Memorial, a CT scan showed that the swelling in his brain has increased significantly, and that some pressure needs to be released. Now, in order to do this, we are going to have to go in and open up his skull. This will be done by making an incision at the beginning of his hairline and it will run from behind his right ear to the middle of his forehead. We will peel back the skin and cut into his skull, taking out part of it. Then, part of his right frontal lobe will be removed to give his brain room to expand. After we re-attach the bone and put the skin in place, we will drill two holes. One will be used to put a tube in to drain off any extra fluid, and the other will be used to place a thin, metal bar that will record the intracranial pressure. This is important, because we will be able to gauge the swelling at all times, without having to do a scan."

The doctor paused, looking at each of us. When no one spoke, he continued.

"Now, I know that you are worried about the removal of some brain tissue, but you shouldn't be. We have chosen an area that is significantly damaged and controls functions that Edward can relearn, such as speaking, walking, some motor skills, and…well, you get the general idea."

My stomach rolled and I felt extremely sick.

"Do you have any questions?" Dr. Painter asked.

Carlisle began peppering him with questions—in doctor speak, of course. I didn't understand a word of it, but his features relaxed with each answer. Apparently, Carlisle was appeased and feeling confident in the procedure that had been laid out before us.

When Carlisle was finished, Dr. Painter looked at each one of us. The rest of the group was silent, and I couldn't speak because my head was spinning and I couldn't think of anything to say.

"Before we begin, I need to know that everyone is on board and is in favor of the plan of action I have presented. I can't, in good conscience, go in there to do this knowing that someone does not agree. So, are we all in agreement?" the good doctor asked.

Each member of Edward's family showed their support with a grunt, a spoken yes, or a head nod. When Dr. Painter looked at me, I realized that everyone had already given their consent and he was waiting on mine. I was taken aback, because surely, my opinion didn't count. As I looked at each of the faces staring back at me, I slowly comprehended that, yes, it did matter.

"Just…yes. Please save him," I pleaded in a whisper. I was unable to get out more than that because my throat was threatening to close.

Dr. Painter nodded, bid us farewell, and exited the room. We all stood there in stunned silence. I tried to wrap my mind around the conversation that had just taken place, but I couldn't. My mind would not allow me to comprehend the fact that Edward was about to lose a piece, and possibly a very important piece, of himself very soon.

Carlisle cleared his throat.

"Let's go and let the others know what's going on. We need to gather everyone up and head to the surgical waiting room."

Without another word, he left, and Esme followed close behind him. Alice, Emmett, and Rosalie stood there for a few more seconds and then began to leave. My legs, however, were frozen to the spot I was occupying. As if I was outside of myself, I watched Emmett turn toward me. He walked over and stood in front of me, saying something. His words didn't make sense, and I couldn't figure out how to answer him back. When he realized that I wasn't going to respond, he hooked his arm around mine and began to pull me toward the doorway.

My brain must have remembered how to move, because we walked past the nurses' station and exited the double doors of the Emergency Room. Emmett continued to drag me until we reached the rest of our families and the friends that had joined us. They were all congregated in a loose circle and were taking turns hugging, crying, and trying to convince each other that everything would be okay. I knew, though, that it wasn't true. Everything was fucked, beginning the moment Edward fell off of the car. It was the precursor to the tragic events that had followed since that moment. They could stand there and lie to themselves, but I couldn't. Everything had changed, and I had little hope that things would ever be the same again.

"Bella," my father said, pulling me into a hug. I could feel another set of arms engulf me, and I assumed it was Sue since she had showed concern for me since we arrived. Whimpers and sobs came from all around me, and the cocoon of arms held me tightly, as if it could protect me from what would come next. I buried my head into Charlie's chest, looking for comfort. The contact felt empty, though, and I backed away. It seemed like nothing could penetrate the numbness that was gripping me.

Then, without preamble, the group began to disperse and head toward the elevators. Carlisle led the way, since he seemed to know where we were going. Eleven bodies crammed into the tight space, and the doors closed behind us. Nothing was said as the floors passed by, but then again, no one needed to say anything.

The ding of the doors opening broke the silence, and I followed everyone out. We walked down the corridor until we reached an area enclosed in glass and wood. Inside, rows and rows of chairs were set up in perfect lines, broken off by end tables for every three. The room itself was decorated in a soft pink. Pink walls, pink furniture, and pink carpet could be seen everywhere. If I didn't know any better, I would have said someone had sprayed Pepto-Bismol on every surface. Any other day, the pink nightmare would have had me hysterical with laughter, but that day it wasn't anything more than a passing thought. I was too wrapped up in my own pain.

Each person broke off with their respective partner, setting down side by side—except Carlisle and Esme. They walked over to a desk placed in the middle and spoke with the woman seated behind it. She began writing something down as Carlisle spoke, pointing to the paper every so often. What he was doing couldn't hold my attention, so I moved to an unoccupied corner to sit.

"I called your mother," my father said, towering over me. I gave him a confused look, wondering what he was talking about. He sat in the chair beside me and ducked his head. A sheepish expression covered his face.

"I, uh, thought she should know what's going on. She's on a plane; well she, and Phil are on a plane, right now."

Shock didn't even cover how I felt about what he had said. Why in the hell did he call my mother? She was flighty at best and a pain in the ass at her worst. Christ, there was no way I could deal with her brand of crazy and everything else that was going on. I was hanging on by a thread, and my Father thought it would be a good idea to add to my stress.

"Dad, I can't…" I started to say.

"Now, Bells, she's your mother, and she just wants to be here for you," he admonished.

I hung my head in defeat, not having the strength to argue with him.

"Fine," I relented. "But when she gets here, you deal with her. You're the one that called her."

I finished my thought and stood up, walking past him to another row of chairs in the back of the room. I sat down and curled in on myself. The universe, obviously, hated me because it just kept throwing all kinds of shit at me.

~.~.~.~

Two hours later, I was still seated in the same chair. No word had come back on Edward or the progression of his surgery. Every minute that ticked by made me feel helpless and alone. At first, I tried to entertain myself with the various magazines scattered around the room. I became bored after a while with the stories about celebrities and their lives, especially the ones about that guy who plays a Vampire, and the girl, who happens to be a human.

My eyes wandered to the couples paired off around the room. Our little group seemed to dominate the area, and it wasn't hard to find them. Across the room, Esme and Carlisle were sitting with their arms around each other, quietly whispering amongst themselves. Charlie and Sue sat silently a few seats from me, holding hands and occasionally brushing their thumbs against the backs of each other's hands. In the far corner of the room, Emmett and Rosalie leaned on each other with her head tucked under his arm while his head rested on top of hers. In the seats in front of Edward's parents, Julian and Erin Whitlock sat curled together, sharing a magazine. Even Alice had someone to comfort her. She and Jasper sat near the doors, holding each other as Alice cried softly. I closed in on myself further, feeling cold and isolated. Every person I knew had some kind of comfort next to them, a significant other—or in Alice's case, sort of significant other—to help them deal with their personal pain.

The source of my comfort, however, was in a bright, sterile, and cold operating room somewhere on our floor. In that moment, the doctors were most likely cutting him open and removing part of his brain. The thought made me sick, and I had to close my eyes tightly to keep the contents of my stomach down.

What would he be like when he woke up? I knew they were confident that when they finished, and he was on the mend, what had been taken wouldn't be permanent. That, one day, he would be able to re-learn the information that had been ripped away from him. I couldn't help fear, though, that something else would get lost in the process.

I'd heard somewhere that the brain was still something of a mystery. All the advances in medical science couldn't assuage my fears. Mistakes were made all the time, and how much error would it take to cause permanent damage? A centimeter? Or perhaps even a millimeter off the mark?

I grabbed a hold of my hair tightly and pulled hard, hoping that the pain would distract me from the tumultuous ideas running unchecked in my head. I had to stay positive. Edward is going to be fine. He is going to come through this, and we are going to be fine, I kept silently telling myself.

My leg shook as I willed myself to believe the lie I was trying to tell myself. It was better than the stark reality trying to invade the happy place I was constructing.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

I bolted out of my chair and ran out of the room. Behind me, I could hear voices shouting at me, but I didn't acknowledge them. Everything had started to come crashing down around me, and the sight of couples finding solace in each other, plus my "what ifs", had been the last straw. The walls of numbness that had surrounded me had turned to dust, and a pain I didn't know existed threatened to tear me in half.

The elevator doors came into view a few minutes later. I slowed to a jog and then stopped completely. My breathing was labored and shallow, coming out in pants. The need to leave was trying to gnaw its way out of me, and I succumbed to it. I moved to the button panel, pressed the down button, and waited for the car to come and claim me. Surprisingly, it didn't take long. I climbed into the empty elevator and pressed the button for the first floor, watching the doors close in front of me.

Two other passengers were picked up during my descent, a man and a woman. I was barely aware of their presence and kept my face to the cool metal wall. When I reached my destination, I hurried out of the confined space. I could feel a breakdown coming and knew that I was going to need privacy because it was going to be huge. Tears were already falling down my face.

I figured that I could find a bush or something outside to hide behind. Or I could go to the parking garage and find a dark corner so I could lose it. What I didn't expect on my way out of the hospital was the heavy wooden door I almost passed. To the casual passerby, it would seem like any other place where one could seek some sort of comfort. But to me? It was a fucking lifeline.

I opened the door labeled Chapel and walked inside.

The first thing that hit me was the darkness of the room. The only light sources were the fading sunbeams shining through the stained glass windows and the small votive candles flickering on a table in the far right corner. A raised platform with two stairs leading up to it took up the entire front. A podium sat in the center of the platform and a large wooden cross hung above it. There were five rows of long pews, cut off in the middle by the aisle, and each were made out of a dark reddish wood with blue cushioning on the seats.

A musky, boswellia and sage scent surrounded me, which was probably lingering from a recent Mass. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply in hopes that it would help calm me. My feet carried me to the center pew, and I kneeled on the cushioned bar that had been pulled out from under the seat in front of me. Clasping my hands and resting my head on them, I did something that I hadn't done since I was a little girl. I prayed.

Dear God.

I snorted, feeling rather stupid. Neither of my parents had been big on religion, and the only exposure I'd had was when my grandmother used to take me to church with her on special occasions. I would sit beside her and watch as she closed her eyes, clasped her hands, and mumbled silently to herself when it was time to pray. Needless to say, I was never really sure if I was doing it right.

It's for Edward, a voice inside my head pleaded with me.

I can do this. I can do this.

I started again.

Dear God.

Okay, so I haven't always done the right thing. I know that you are aware of the drugs I've taken, the cursing I've done, and all the other things I'm not proud of. Yeah, I'm really sorry about that and I am willing to change.

My grandmother once told me that all I had to do was ask, and that you would provide. I never believed that it could be that simple, but right now, I have nothing to lose. So, I'm asking…no I'm begging you, please help Edward.

Despite his choices, he is a good man. I know because I can see it, hidden behind the drugs and alcohol. It was a stupid mistake that brought us here, and I really don't feel that death is the right punishment.

Right now, he's fighting for his life. It shouldn't be this way. Edward was supposed to fight his demons and come out on top. He promised me forever, and I expected my happy ending. I know that sounds naïve and selfish, but I can't help it. He is everything to me, and I can't imagine a life without him.

A sob broke from me, stopping my internal plea. I welcomed the emotional release that rocked through me.

After a few minutes, I began again.

If you…

I bawled and forced myself to finish.

If you…take…him, it will destroy us all. He is the lost boy we want to see prevail. There is so much potential in him that will be wasted if he leaves us. I know that he is capable of so much, and I want to see it happen. I want to eventually meet him at the end of the aisle, watch as he finds his place in this world, and see him bloom with each child we have. His death would kill all of that, so please…please help him.

When I ran out of things to say, I sat back and cried. I cried for Edward. I cried for Esme, Carlisle, Alice and Emmett. I cried for myself. And I cried for the family and life I watched disappear as he was taken to the helicopter that took him there.

I didn't know if my words had been heard, or if a benevolent God was the one that heard them. For the first time, though, I did know one thing.

I had hope.


A/N: Just a couple of things before you hit that review button. :)

My beta, Dinx, is up for a few awards and I'd love it if you'd vote for her.

Shimmer awards-Climax Award (Best Drama) for Always Leads Back to You

Hidden Star Awards-I Love My Beta

Best Author (Rising Star Award)

Also, I have a story recommendation.

If you aren't reading Mystery of You by DivineInspiration, you really should be. The official summary goes like this:

Mystery writer Edward Cullen stumbles upon a mystery greater than the ones he writes: Isabella Swan. Life happens as he unravels the mystery.

This story is quirky, has the best Alice ever written, and Mysteryward—who has become a member of my top 10 favorite Edward's of all time. I urge you to run, not walk, over to this fic.

http:/www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/6348280/1/The_Mystery_of_You