Chapter 11.

A/N: I didn't mean to leave you all hanging for this long, but unfortunately, life got in the way of my updating. But thanks for putting up with me.

I'm aware of two things when I finally am able to stand aright.

The first is that Edward quite possibly saved my life. He pushed me out of the way of the falling, flaming branch. Instead of me, he took the hit. The flames don't affect him, I think, but the tree limb surely does. He hasn't moved from his place on the ground. His eyes haven't even fluttered. I quickly put out the fire, only to realize that his clothes are slightly singed. Out of all the times I've seen him at work, his clothes have never burned. Something's off. It's so unusual.

My attention leaves Edward. Heavy smoke fills my lungs, as the air grows darker. I can hear the crackle of the flames, and that's when I realize the second thing. With Edward unconscious, he is no longer controlling the blaze, and now it's raging. I look around myself to confirm what I already know. The forest is alight.

I cough and sputter when I inhale. I need to do something about the heavy smoke. But first, I need to move Edward away from the flames, if he really is vulnerable when he's unconscious. I drag his body to a safe spot, away from the brute of the blaze.

I'm sweating like crazy, and my eyes are watering. With a string of coughs, I walk to the center of the clearing near where the lake sits. The flames extend in all directions around me. I cool the air, hoping to dispel the smog. Lowering the temperature does nothing, so I take a deep breath, filling my lungs. My mouth parts and I exhale, letting out a huge gust of cold air.

The smoke clears, and I'm able to take a clear inhalation. The world around me is no longer clouded by the thick darkness. The flames rage around us, not even ten feet away. Colors of bright yellows, oranges, and reds line my sight.

I use my combination from earlier, fusing combat moves with frozen assaults. My best attacks do nothing to the fire, and it melts on contact. The blaze refuses to halt until it's devoured every tree and bush of the forest. My ice surfing would be of no use amidst the fire, and I'm not capable of using my regular ice blasts. I'm left with little options.

An idea clicks into my mind. It's very risky, but I don't really have a choice. It's not as if I can flee, and I can't walk through fire either. Unless I act, I'll be trapped within the flames, and my nightmares will become reality. I remain still, attempting to concentrate despite my surroundings.

It happens faster than I thought it would. A coldness sets in. It's comfortable—inviting, even. I allow it to take over me. It seeps from my face, down to my feet. I'm aware when the change is complete because I can't move at all. I'm frozen in this position. I can't breathe either. I've never made it this far using this technique before. My mind automatically panics because nothing happens when I try to exhale. It's like my lungs don't work. This is my elemental form. I am ice.

I rack my brain to think of a solution. I can return to my normal form, but I feel like our only chance of surviving is if I access this. I realize that I won't get anywhere unless I calm down before I cause myself to have a panic attack. Little by little, I compose myself.

I take a new approach, molding the ice. I'm careful with it, so as not to break it. I don't know what would happen if I were to shatter. I'm able to mold and bend the ice as if it is a liquid. There is no time to practice my newfound ability. The flames lick the grass a mere five feet away. I consider forming a dome of ice around Edward to provide a little shelter, but decide it'll be best if he doesn't end up with hypothermia.

After taking a deep breath, I channel all of my energy and focus it into one attack. The energy escapes my body in a wave of ice beams. They extend in all directions, coating the blaze with a layer of frost. The flames around me are easily quelled, leaving the scorched ground. I condense a blast into a spherical shape and launch it in the direction of the fiercest blaze. As soon as it makes contact, there's an explosion of sorts. Everything is iced over.

I examine what little is left of the fire. There's just one small section left of the area where the inferno is staying strong. It's amazing how greatly my attacks are multiplied while I'm in my elemental form.

I turn my attention to the lake behind me. It's nestled within the trees. With a sweep of my hands, I draw out the water, turning it into frozen water, and I hurl it at the remaining flames. That takes care of all that is left. My arms fall to my sides, and I feel the effects of the tremendous amount of power that it took. Involuntarily, I make the change back to my normal self. My body can't handle its new form just yet. That will take practice. I conjure up enough energy for my final move.

All around me, the scent of burnt wood is strong. Everything within sight is scorched. Trees, once a healthy color, are now either singed with black or reduced to dark ash. I wipe my forehead and heave a tired sigh. The clouds begin to grow heavy and gather. They give way to snow. It is not a light snow, more like a small blizzard. I want the fresh snow to cover all of this. I sway at first, but muster the strength to walk. My muscles ache with each step I take toward Edward.

I survey the damage. There's a burn across my cheek. The hot sting is now apparent. I cry out in pain as my fingertips touch the swollen, sensitive skin. A few hot tears run from my eyes, burning as they travel. There's a gash down my right arm. It's a little bloody, but nothing major. There are a few scratches here and there across my skin, but this is the least of my worries.

Edward's lying on his back, eyes closed. He hasn't come to yet. I ignore the harsh strain on my muscles as I lift his body. He's a lot heavier than I thought he'd be, but maybe it's all dead-weight. I end up wrapping his arms around my neck and pulling him along.

It's a slow process, but we make progress. The scent of burnt nature fills my nostrils as I follow the white markers on the trees. Before we approach the outskirts of the forest, we encounter what looks to be a search party.

"Bella!" Alice and Rosalie wrap their arms around me. The group around us includes the other elementals and Jasper. Jazz takes Edward from me as Alice demands for details. "What the hell happened?!" Her wild eyes find mine. "The truth, if you don't mind."

"Later," I say. "Edward needs to be taken to the clinic." The others nod in agreement.

"Emmett!" Rose yells. Seconds later, he swoops down from the sky along with Dr. Carlisle. Carlisle rushes over to Edward to inspect him. Once he looks him over, he has Edward handed to Emmett. Everyone is crowded around Edward except for Gianna. She hangs back, leaning against a mighty oak tree. We lock eyes for a split second, and then her gaze returns to her feet. She tucks a lock of her red hair behind her ear. It's straight for once. Usually, her tresses are wild and unruly.

Something's wrong. "Are you okay?" I mouth. When she doesn't respond, I walk to where she stands.

Her face looks pained. Her slim nose is scrunched up, and her green eyes are big and wide. "The trees are crying," She mumbles. And that's when I realize that although Gianna has that tough, wild exterior, she's still a fifteen year old girl.

We're all hurting in a way. I've never been particularly good with emotions, but it just comes as an instinct to wrap her in my arms. "I know," I tell her. "I'm sorry."

Kate walks over to us. "I don't mean to interrupt anything, but Bella, you're bleeding. I think you should go to the clinic as well."

"I'm fine." My eyes search for Edward, but I find neither him nor Emmett.

Carlisle puts a hand on my forearm. "Please. Don't be so stubborn. I'll carry you there if I need to."

I sigh and agree to go. He asks Benjamin and Gianna to stay and help replant what was lost. I know trees were scorched and burned to the roots. Others have frozen and fallen limbs.

Dr. Carlisle uses the remaining super strength he has from Emmett to smoothly carry me toward the school. My eyelids feel heavy and keep threatening to close. I grow tired of trying to fight sleep and give in to the darkness.

I had let my guard down. From the time I saw the painting in the ESP room, I already had knowledge that the forest would become alight. I didn't know how it would take place, but I should have prevented it. I open my eyes to find myself in a hospital bed. Alice, Jasper, Rose, and Emmett are seated in black chairs against the white wall. With groggy eyes, I search for a clock with the time.

"It's 6:20." Rosalie informs me.

"You guys have been sitting here for half an hour? It's dinnertime. Go eat. I'm fine." And I do feel fine, better than before. I start throwing the sheets off of me.

Emmett's stomach growls. "I could go for some food…"

I join them at the door. "Are you sure you're all better?" Alice questions. When I nod, she says, "Then tell us what happened."

I sigh. "Edward has been helping me train. That's what we were doing in the forest. We weren't around so many trees at the time. He was showing me a new move, but the tree caught on fire, and it spread pretty quickly. He was trying to push me out of the way of a falling, flaming branch, but he got hit by it."

They share similar looks of astonishment. Alice says, "You could've just told us something was going on between you two."

"There's nothing going on." I reply dryly. "My feelings haven't changed towards him."

Jasper eyes me dubiously, but I maintain a cool composure.

"So… food?" Em reminds us. We walk out of the small room. "We can talk about the pyro later. If I don't get any food in my system now, I'm gonna starve."

The level of the school that we're at right now is the basement. This level includes the training rooms on one side of the floor, and the medical wing on the other. This area is home to healers and the like. The five of us walk toward the elevator that sits at the end of the hallway. If we're in the medical wing, then that means Edward has to be in one of these rooms.

Jasper lingers as the others go into the elevator. I think he's about to tell me something about the investigation he's still conducting, but he surprises me by saying, "He's in the room two doors down to the right."

"What?" I'm taken off guard.

"Edward. I haven't gone in there to see how he's faring, but I know Angela's in there. She's also the one who healed you… Well, she did her best with the burn."

My fingers automatically reach up, feeling the skin of my cheek. It's rough, marred by the previous events. I had forgotten about the burn. I should care. I should feel upset. I should feel something. But I don't. I'm numb. Or maybe I'm just too tired to care.

Jasper leaves me standing there in the middle of the hallway, catching the elevator before it leaves. I hear Alice ask him about me, but he whispers something too low for my ears to pick up. After a few seconds of deliberation, I decide to check on Edward. My legs propel me forward across the freshly waxed floor. I am able to see my reflection on the black tiles. The burn is still etched on the skin of my cheek. It's not as prominent as before, but there's no mistaking that it's there. There aren't traces of any of the scratches and the wound that adorned the length of my arm. Minus the burn, I look better than before, fresh and renewed.

I knock lightly on the door, and Angela opens it. The girl, assumingly my age, stands before me looking professional in her white lab coat. Her hair is tied in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. "Oh, Bella. You're up. I'm sorry about the burn. Burns and scars take a longer amount of time to heal, I'm afraid. When you were brought in, I examined it. It was a second degree burn. Very swollen and red. Thankfully, it wasn't blistering. I did the best I could, and brought it down to a mild first degree appearance. I tried to heal and repair the tissue." She says, and quickly adds, "It's not as bad as it sounds though. The skin is only red there."

I really do appreciate her kindness. The healers probably garner the most respect out of all the fields here. Angela has done a lot for me, and for that I am grateful. "It's fine," I assure her. "Thank you." I allow my eyes to roam over the boy lying on the cot. He wears a frown and the creases of his forehead are visible, but his eyes are closed.

Angela notices me watching him. "He hasn't woken up yet. We had an I.V. in him earlier, but only to give him fluids. Other than that, he's basically sleeping. There was a mild concussion."

"Oh." I find the black seat in the corner of the room and sit. "You should eat before dinner is over, Angela. I can take it from here."

"Oh no. I couldn't." She declines, busying herself at the counter across the room. She returns various medical tools to their proper drawers and storage.

"I insist. Go."

Although clearly hesitant, she finally exits the room, leaving the two of us alone. My eyes remain focused on him, while my mind is fixated elsewhere. I keep replaying the scene when he pushed me out of harm's way and took the hit himself. If he hadn't acted in such a way, I could've died from the impact of the tree on my skull. My reflexes need some work. I should've seen the branch and reacted fast enough to freeze it.

One question keeps nagging me, lingering in my mind. Why? Why did he save me? Why did he act so quickly as if it were instinct or something? My previous attitude towards him hadn't exactly been favorable. His actions baffle me, for sure.

"Bella?" My eyes snap up to focus on Edward's face. He looks a little puzzled. Then I see the realization dawn in his dark green eyes. "Did anybody…" Edward pauses. He closes his eyes in pain—not physical pain because Angela's fully healed him—and takes a deep breath. "Did anybody get hurt?"

He looks very troubled and that stirs something in me. "No," I tell him.

Edward leans back against his pillow, clearly relieved. "How long have I been out?"

"An hour maybe. Angela says you had a concussion."

"Is it too soon for me to leave this place?"

"I don't think so. So long as you're feeling better." I reply.

He stretches and stands up. His eyes seem to focus on my face, as if just now seeing it well under the artificial light. I attempt to bring my hair in front of my face, but it's too late. He's already noticed. "What the hell happened to your face?" His voice comes out low, as he's already fearing the answer.

"It's nothing." I rise and begin walking toward the door.

He blocks my path. "It's a burn." His voice cracks on the last word.

"It's not your fault," I tell him. Anger is etched all over his face—but it isn't directed toward me. It's almost self-loathing which only works to make me feel worse.

"C'mon," I urge him. "Let's go upstairs." He allows me to guide him down the hall to the elevator. It takes a couple of seconds for the elevator to reach our level. Once we enter, I press the button for the first floor. I stand, my back to the cool handrail, and Edward is across from me. The elevator moves steadily, and once the metal doors open, I usher him out.

"I need some fresh air." Edward says. He sounds so broken and defeated.

I am about to tell him something—anything—to prevent him from walking through those double doors a few feet away. It's the entrance to the southern courtyard. All that's left of the forest is the few trees that make up the tree line. But he's already gone. I see his silhouette against the backdrop of the moon. I join him outside, watching from a measurable distance. He stands in the courtyard, back facing me, surveying the damage in the moonlight. I think he's fighting inwardly. Our previous conversation about fire enters my mind. He told me that fire equaled destruction. This only confirms his thoughts.

He doesn't notice me approach until I'm right next to him. "You shouldn't have come out here," I mutter.

"They couldn't hide this from me forever," He replies; his voice is monotone. "I'm dangerous."

I could argue his comments for hours but it won't accomplish anything. He doesn't need to be here right now, for this to serve as a horrible reminder. An idea enters my mind. "Hold on," I tell him. "I'll be right back."

I move to walk away, but I feel a tug on my wrist. A pale hand tightly grips me, holding me in place. "Please." He whispers.

"Okay. Come with me then. We're headed to the Headmasters' building."

Edward doesn't question me. He only follows me obediently. I hate how trusting he is of me. The long walk up the hill is filled with silence. I feel a sense of obligation toward him seeing as how we both caused the fire, and I'm the real reason we were there in the first place. Guided only by moonlight, we round the building and make our way to the door.

I knock on the door, a purposeful knock. There's no response. After a minute or so, I try again, only to find the same response. "I know someone's here," I mutter. I decide to take the risk and try the handle of the door regardless. To my surprise, it opens. Edward hangs back for a moment, hands in pocket as I enter the grand foyer. The way I see it, I'm carrying out my plan regardless, whether with the headmasters' permission or without. I'll just accept the repercussions instead of letting Edward take the blame if something happens. However, if I can, I'd like to try to gain their permission.

"Hello?" I call out. No one responds. I walk across the light patterned tiles further into the room. In the center of the foyer where the small dark table rests, something is out of place. The expensive gold vase that sat on the tabletop, as I recall, is no longer sitting there. In its place is a set of keys. I pick them up in my hand, and they jingle, clacking against each other. I recognize these keys as the same ones from our last excursion.

With Headmaster Caius, every move is strategic. I wouldn't be surprised if these were left here on purpose. So with keys in hand, I guide Edward to the parking lot. Sure enough, I press the button on the remote and the lights of the red Ferrari flash twice.

In no time, we're leaving the gates of Volterra Academy behind us. Edward is leaned against the window on the passenger side, more silent than ever. I keep my eyes trained on the road before me. It's been a while since I've driven. I've never owned a car, but Jasper would let me drive his every now and again back in Washington. "Where do you want to go?" I ask Edward.

"Millennium Park." His response is immediate.

I turn left and merge onto I-90. Although I've never traveled this way before, it isn't difficult for me to follow the highway and make my way to Chicago. It takes about half an hour before the Chicago skyline appears before us. The top of the tall buildings are hidden by thick fog, swirling around the skyscrapers.

"Do you know your way around Chicago?" I jump at the sound of Edward's voice, as I had become accustomed to the silence that was the past thirty minutes.

"Not really," I reply.

"Take a right at this next exit."

I do as he says. The city is lively and busy. Newer buildings line both sides of the street. Cars run up and down the road, some honking impatiently and others attempting to perform moves that are surely illegal. I have to drive faster so the car behind me stops riding my tail. The Ferrari is accustomed to speed and purrs happily as I give into its desire.

"Make a left."

I make a sharp left, and we feel the jolt of the car as it goes over a pothole. Upon his instructions, I park the car to the right of the street. As we exit the car, I'm hoping that nothing will happen to this Ferrari. It's a pretty expensive car, and Caius would have our asses if something were to happen on the streets of Chicago.

Edward guides me up the walk. A stretch of grass is laid out before us. "This is the Great Lawn," He says emptily. "We're in Millennium Park now." There's no snow on the ground despite the chilly air around us. A strong wind blows, moving past the thick hair at my neck and cooling the skin there. A shudder rocks through Edward, and I wish I had thought to at least bring a jacket or coat for him.

Above the Great Lawn, huge metal arches cross, forming an intricate pattern in the black sky. We walk to a secluded area, but I can still hear the drone of the city life from nearby streets. The soft spiky grass prickles my butt as I sit down on the cool floor. I remove my jacket, exposing my arms. I hand it to Edward, "You look cold," I offer.

"I am." It's small on him, so he just uses it to cover his arms, providing a thin shield from the cold so familiar to him, yet so crisp and uninviting. "This was another place I'd go to when I wanted to be alone."

I draw my knees to my chest. Why am I doing this? Why am I here with him now? It isn't as if he and I are friends or anything. I have no ties to him nor obligation. Yet here I am, upon my suggestion at that. My eyes flit to his face, and I remind myself. He looks so broken, that's why. How could I just leave him in the courtyard staring emptily after today's events?

"The whole forest…" He murmurs. His eyes close, and he's resigned that it's his fault.

"It wasn't the whole forest," I argue.

"Most of it."

There's silence as I struggle with the right words to say. I've never really had to comfort someone. I know that I can't just sit here while he's suffering, but I fear that my words will only make the situation worse. I repeat my words from before, "It's not your fault." I pause and look down. "It's mine. I shouldn't have suggested the forest. No matter how much control we both have, some things are simply just out of our control. With so many trees, a similar result is always a possibility."

"Don't blame yourself. With that kind of mindset, I'm a threat to anyone. Anywhere. I can't live life like that. I need more control."

"You're too hard on yourself," I respond, feeling a little hypocritical because I'm the same in a way.

"Am I?" His face is skeptical. "You saw what happened out there." Silence ensues, and he sighs. His grave voice drops an octave. "And what happened to you…" He turns away, unwilling to meet my eyes.

Part of me wants to let him know that I'm alright, but it's difficult. "It's only a burn," I say.

"Burns don't heal. Don't you realize?! Because of me, you've been scarred forever!" Edward raises his voice for the first time. His words cut like knives through the crisp air and linger.

My fingertips trace the mark on my cheek. It's not as bad now, as Angela was able to heal it some, but he is right. The burn is still here and will always be here. But for whatever reason, I can't bring my heart to hate him. I only feel sorrow for him. I want to comfort him, but I don't know how. So, my hands stay glued to my sides, and my lips stay pressed together.

"I'm so sorry, Bella," He says, realizing how his words affect me. But it's okay. I've done worse to him. I've slandered his name, misjudged him, and treated him unfairly. Why is he here with me?

"It's fine," I reply.

His small voice responds, "You should be angry." I think he wants me to be. And I wish I were. Feeling nothing is worse than feeling something. But I'm not sure what my emotions are, they've been so up and down lately. But anger… I can't bring myself to lash out as I normally would. The fight in me is gone.

"I'm not."

"You should be upset."

"I'm not."

"Despite everything that has occurred since I've arrived at Volterra, you're here with me. Why?"

I respond truthfully. "I… don't know."

He sighs. I lean back against my elbows, staring emptily at the buildings across from the park. The city lights are bright, and I doubt this city ever sleeps. "You can talk, you know." I correct my words, "If you want to, that is. I've grown good at keeping things to myself, but I don't think that that's always the best thing to do."

"It isn't," Edward agrees. He runs a hand through his messy reddish brown hair. "I don't like keeping things in, but I've had to for so many years." He pauses, and some seconds pass before he speaks again. "Have you ever done something unintentionally that really ended up hurting someone else?"

"I'm not sure I'm following."

His eyes find mine, willing me to understand. And I have a feeling that he's about to delve into something he hasn't spoken of in years. I don't like sharing things about my past, but this is clearly the real thing that's been eating away at him, and I know that he'll do better once it's off of his chest. Edward's voice is level and serious. "When I told you the story of the first manifestation of my powers, you asked if anyone got hurt in the fire. I lied. Everyone made it out of the school safely except for one person. My best friend."

Edward's eyes are sad, but there's something else in there as well. Acceptance. He's had to deal with this burden so long that he's accepted it. He continues, "Tyler and I had been close friends since elementary school. When the fire occurred, he was stuck in the school. Everyone made it out except him because he was away from the group. The firefighters got there, and were able to pull him out. He was unconscious when they brought him to the emergency room.

"Took a couple days before I got the courage to visit him. By then, the doctor told us that he had slipped into a coma. I couldn't stay there long. Looking at all those burns on his body, knowing that I was the cause..."

I would never have suspected a story like this, especially with how well he does to hide it. "Is he okay now?"

"He still hasn't woken up. The doctors don't know if he will, and if he does, if he'll be able to function after this—walking, moving, talking. His parents still hold hope."

"And what about you?" I get to the root of it.

"I have hope too." He responds with a sigh of what seems to be relief. "I still—uh—visit him sometimes."

I draw closer to him, scooting across the grass because it almost comes naturally. He looks worse than before—weary and weak. He leans against me and rests his head in my lap. "Is this okay?" He asks.

I nod, not feeling as uncomfortable by the proximity of his body. We just sit there on the grass. He seeks the comfort that my being there provides, and we don't need to speak. I'm not sure if he realizes it, but I can see the unshed tears glistening in his eyes.

Some time passes, and I'm reflecting on it all. I assume that he's asleep, and I glance at my watch. It's almost midnight. "I don't want to go back," Edward's voice is clear as he regards me. "Not tonight." He hasn't moved an inch, and I now doubt that he was ever asleep.

"Okay," I reply. "But we can't stay here. You're freezing." His body really is cold, a very noticeable difference in his usual temperature. I doubt that he cares, but I find that I do. "Let's go to the car."

He's clutching me, holding me closely as we walk. We climb in the car, and I sigh. I turn the heat all the way up, and I feel the change in atmosphere. "I guess we're spending the night in here. Maybe there's something in here that could be of our benefit."

The seats aren't uncomfortable by any means, and we can adjust them to lower all the way back as a makeshift bed. I check the glove-box to see if I can find a blanket, jacket, or something else that can be used. Instead, my hands run across paper—a stack of it. I lean down to see what I am feeling and find a stack of cash. "Bingo," I say. "We're checking in to a hotel room. Think you can navigate me to the nearest hotel?"

He nods. "Take a right two blocks down."

If he objects to our spending this money, he doesn't voice it. Everything happens for a reason, and I feel like the money was purposely planted here.

We get a room with two beds in a reasonably priced hotel for downtown Chicago. The two of us are too exhausted to do anything other than climb under our respective sheets as soon as we enter the suite.

"Bella?" Edward says.

"Yes?" I turn to the other side of the mattress to face him.

"Thanks for listening."

I'm not sure how to respond to his genuine statement, so I mutter, "Uh-huh."

His next words catch me off-guard. "And maybe one day, you'll trust me enough to tell me your story."

I remain silent. It isn't that I don't trust him, well, it partly could be that. But, I haven't even told my friends much about it. Only Jasper knows because he's a part of my story, and both of us have a sort of unspoken rule about not mentioning things that have happened. What's past is past. Although, the events that occurred today cause me to doubt that philosophy. Edward still deals with the result of the actions of his past, and in a way, I may be doing the same.

I hear his steady breathing and deduce that he's fallen asleep. "Goodnight, Edward," I whisper into the darkness.

A/N: Let me know what you're thinking.