A/N: Long story short, I'm exhausted and feel like I need a nap, but I can't sleep until I wash all my laundry and make my bed (for a reason that is totally beyond me seeing as I'm just going to go back to bed again). Enjoy the chapter and I'll see you at the bottom of the page.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Twilight characters. I just use my overly active imagination and say, "Dance, my puppets, dance!" And, oh they are so obedient (and I'm so lame). Anyway, Stephenie Meyer owns (and powns) all.

IT'S NEVER ENOUGH

"Ow, that hurts," I exclaimed loudly, unable to hold back. I tried to pull away from him, but he refused to let me go.

"That's what you get for going out and punching someone. Besides, the way you closed your fist was incorrect. You're supposed to close in your thumb before you let loose," Carlisle explained calmly, his gentle fingers wrapping bandages around my knuckles and wrist. Diagnosis: two broken knuckles along with a very swollen pinkie finger.

"But you've got to admit Dad; she's got an awesome right hook." Edward's fingers gently cupped my chin, lifting my lips towards his and meeting them together. As embarrassing for it was to kiss him in front of his father, I couldn't find the will to pull away. A click and a groan from Edward was what I heard next, along with a few giggles from Alice.

"Alice, give me that camera!" Edward's shoes padded against the floor while Alice's heels clicked as she made her way down the stairs, Edward at her heels. I laughed, a blush on my face, knowing that if Emmett saw that, he would be red with embarrassment and possibly anger. Carlisle chuckled along with me, his hands still steadily wrapping the bandages around my wrist and gluing them gently in place.

"There, all done. Now, Tylenol is all I'm willing to give for now. They should help." I nodded gratefully and stood from my chair, nearly stumbling over my unbalanced feet before catching myself on the chair. I could practically feel Carlisle's hands at my side, ready to catch me, but I shook my head to deny them. I turned towards him and decided now was the best time to question him. "Carlisle, can we talk?"

"Of course, Bella. What would you like to talk about?" He seemed surprised, but nonetheless didn't express it outwardly. I thanked goodness he was a psychiatrist that was used to this kind of thing (though he admitted that, off the record, he had never had a blind patient before). I sighed and "looked" down at the floor in embarrassment.

"Well, you never exactly told me about my diagnosis. Well, I just wanted to…I mean –oh never mind. Don't worry about it. I'd better head downstairs," I said, embarrassed at my inability to stop talking and began walking towards the stairs, only to have Carlisle stop me from leaving.

"Bella, it's fine. It's normal for patients to want to know the results. Of course, I would like to explain it to you a bit before I actually tell you. And, I must be blunt about it. No sugar-coating. Is that alright?" I nodded, eagerly. Carlisle chuckled while heat invaded my cheeks and I sat down on my chair, ready to hear more.

"Well Bella, for me to create a diagnosis, it takes time and a lot more information than most people thinks. I can't just form a hypothesis based on a full story. I have to know how the person acts, how they react, and how they would function in a stressful situation. Sometimes, it seems impossible because the patient won't open up or they feel the need to hold it all in until it explodes."

Like me.

"It was incredibly difficult for me to come up with a diagnosis for you and to decide whether or not I could interfere with your condition. You have much more baggage than normal patients do, so I had to be delicate with the situation. With you, I had to take into account that your past is much more…traumatic, than those patients I've had before and that you actually have a reason for being the way you are, though that is not an excuse. And so, with careful watch and now that I have your history, I have made the diagnosis." Despite all that he was saying, I wasn't nearly as eager as I had been. In fact, I almost wanted to tell him to stop, to not continue. My stomach was churning painfully, lifting something up my throat to break off any deep breaths that may have calmed me.

"You have a mild version of PSTD, without most of the symptoms and you suffer from depression. As for the PSTD, it seems that you, unlike many patients, have discovered a way to avoid any of the symptoms, but by doing so, you have blocked yourself off very well. And, as a result, a…proverbial wall seems to have protected you from everything. Edward stated before that you told him everything, how you hadn't told anyone.

"Bella, holding in things like that, stressful things, it isn't healthy. I'm sure someone has told you that before, but I'm hoping you will take it to heart this time. By doing so, you have mentally and physically exhausted yourself. I'm sure that not even I could handle that, much less you, a teenage girl with blindness to boot."

I nodded thoughtfully. Things could have been a heck of a lot worse. He could have told me that there was no diagnosis and I was a mental disaster that needed to be institutionalized immediately.

"So, what do you recommend, Carlisle?" He sighed. I heard the crinkling of his perfectly starched shirt. Perhaps he was cleaning off his glasses.

"I try to avoid prescribing medication in my practice. I will avoid it with you, despite your diagnosis. I don't believe anti-depressants are good for the body, anyone's body, and so I only prescribe medications to those who have suffered from very strong bouts of depression. It would be unfair of me to prescribe them to you. Anti-depressants are dangerous and they change you. You wouldn't be yourself anymore, and I fear that by prescribing them to you, more than one person will be hurt at the thought of losing a loved one."

His stare burned me painfully in my chest. All I could do was nod to Carlisle in agreement. Edward was the main objective in both of our minds at this time. Charlie would go along with anything that would rid me of my depression and Emmett would follow Charlie's example, unsure of what he could do. And though the rest of the Cullen family was now something of a family to me (though I didn't truly know them all that well), the only one who would truly be devastated if I were to change was Edward.

He had proclaimed that he liked me the way I was, that he was just fine with the blindness and the baggage that I carried constantly over my shoulder. He had even offered to carry some of it for me. But I couldn't help but think back to our conversation in his room. I had almost cracked under the pressure of the moment and the girl that I had just damaged. While the latter had almost made me giddy with anger and mixed happiness and adrenaline, I could help but feel sorrow towards Tanya. The only causes for her behavior that I could think of was that either she had been a very spoiled child and had learned that she could get everything she wanted, she had a very high libido and she really did feel she needed to have Edward to make the feeling pass, or she was insecure that Edward had denied her and she needed to feel the need from him. The third option made the most sense to me.

The point was I had almost proclaimed to Edward that I loved him, that I was unable to get him out of my heart and mind, and that I wanted to see him. And that could have been catastrophic.

It wasn't that I didn't want him to know. No, I wanted to yell it to the stars until the gods heard me. But I knew that if I were to tell him, he would do the one rational thing he could do. He would run from me. Such was the nature of teenage boys who were in a relationship. They weren't sure and they wanted to take things slowly in the emotions area while things in the physical area were speeding up progressively. Of course, Edward didn't seem very normal in that way. And I had to take into my mind that he, at one point, had enjoyed activities with the other girls of Forks. The talk I had heard from the others always echoed in my ears, telling my mind not to trust him while another part of me, the part that seemed to always make the irrational decisions, told me to let him in, to tell him everything and never let him go.

Of course, it was all irrational and incredibly idiotic of me to even think I could stoop to that level of intimacy and confidence. I was neither confident nor that physically appealing. My blandness was my downfall. I had nothing to offer him that even displayed an air of peculiarity and amazing-ness.

So, if I were to be cured of my depression through medication, would Edward like the difference it made? Would he see me as more confident, more appealing to his already slightly inflated ego (which had been established through the years of praise he had gotten from the girls of this town)? Or would he find the fact that I took medication disturbing and repulsive? I was opposed to changing myself for him, to altering my being to keep him with me, but I felt I had to. This was something small I could do for him, change my personality for him to want to stay with me.

But then I shot back from that idea. That would be trying to keep him with me. What he wanted to leave and hadn't really thought this whole thing through? I couldn't not let him think about this. I would wait for him to decide. If he still wanted to stay with me, then I would discuss with him the options. Then and only then would I consider the medication.

"What's wrong with Bella? Bella, love, are you alright?"

"Huh?" I shook my head to clear it, now completely aware of the smooth voice I was hearing.

"Bella, I was calling you for a few minutes. It seems you spaced out for a bit," Carlisle said humorously, chuckling lightly. I felt a shock cross my skin as nimble fingers ran over my neck and up my jaw, a thumb pressing lightly into the expanse of skin beneath my ear.

"Are you alright?" Edward whispered, his breath fanning across my cheek. I was hyperaware of his presence now, I had been for weeks. The feeling that had begun overcoming me was overwhelming, a raging storm that had knocked away my only consciousness and left me drowning in everything and nothing. And for once, despite all that I had been through, I wanted nothing more for him to drown me, to pull me under the waves of happiness, anxiety, nervousness, and unworthiness, and to just love me like I loved him. Underneath it all, I knew that it was impossible. Had it been under different circumstances, maybe he would have loved me. Had I not been blind, maybe he would have seen that I was possibly worthy of his love. But with this damned blindfold over my eyes, I wasn't worthy of him.

"So, what were you just saying, Dad?" Confused, I looked up at Edward, hoping he would repeat what I'm sure he said in my brain's absence. I should have remembered never to get so lost in my own thoughts when Edward was around. Who knew how much time I had left with him?

"Well, I was trying to explain to Bella….well, actually, it's her decision whether or not she wants you here when we discuss it. Bella?" I nodded.

"Edward can stay. This affects him too," I said.

"As I thought," Carlisle replied with a smile in his voice. "We were just discussing her diagnosis and what we could do to counteract it. And what I've hypothesized is that though anti-depressants are normally called for in these situate –" He was cut off by Edward's outburst.

"Absolutely not! You know what those things do to people, Carlisle. I refuse to allow her to take them," Edward nearly shouted, his breath coming out heavily.

"Edward," Carlisle sighed tiredly. "If you would have let me finish, you would have known that Bella and I have both decided that medication wouldn't be the best option in this case. So, what I've decided is that maybe a bit of closure would be the best under these particular circumstances. I believe a trip to the optometrist is in order here." Immediately, my head shot up in surprise.

The optometrist? My mind couldn't really wrap around the idea. I mean, I had been blind for a year, therefore, my eyes were practically a dead sense to me now. So why would I need to go to the eye doctor now that I had been terminally blind for so long?

As if answering my unspoken question, Carlisle continued. "Bella, I looked over your medical reports, with your father's permission of course. It seems that after the accident, you remained in the hospital for two weeks before you were able to go home. After that, there are no records of you actually going back. No visits to the optometrist for them to check into your eyes, no appointments made with specialists, nothing. As per usual, there are usually several follow up visits to ensure that health is at its best, but in your case, there is nothing more than the hospital visit and that's it."

I nodded. I knew all this. Renee had sheltered me so much after the accident that I hadn't really even thought about going in to the doctor. The skin around my eyes had felt so tight and painful after the accident that I just wore a bandage for several weeks afterward until I had grown accustomed to the feeling of skin stretching. The doctors had said that the skin would heal well and that the scars would hardly be visible. But they never said anything about a return visit. Now that I thought about it, that should have been one of the first things they said when I had checked out.

"Carlisle, what could the optometrist possibly tell her? That's she's blind? I don't think it needs to be brought up any longer. Besides, it doesn't matter to anyone whether or not she is blind. We will all care for her either way," Edward said with a sense of sureness in his voice.

"That's not what I meant, Edward. Of course we'd still care for her, even if she wasn't blind. But the thing is, there is a difference between knowing your blind and knowing whether or not you can be cured of your blindness. In Bella's case, it may be too late due to the damage her eyes may have suffered after the accident. Her medical reports say that got glass in her eyes, but technology and procedures have greatly increased in efficiency in recent years. There may be a way to save her eyes. This is the closure she may need to let the past go."

Edward was silent and I was closely in tune to his breathing. It had gotten slow and quiet, more so than usual. I almost wondered aloud my question of whether he was alright but was quickly stopped by Edward's whisper.

"Bella, did you know about this?" I was taken aback by the question. I had to clear my head before replying.

"Well, yes, it was something I looked into at the beginning but I never really thought much of it. I was told that the chance of my eyes working again was slim. I didn't want to take that risk, especially since newer, more accurate procedures are coming out every day. If I had the surgery and things didn't go….well, I wouldn't have another chance to take. That would be it for me."

"But, you didn't even think to tell me, to discuss it with me?" He sounded so hurt, but underneath his words shone out anger, anger at me for not telling him. Angrily, I retorted.

"Yes, I thought about it, but I didn't think it mattered. I've come to live with it and I didn't think you needed to know."

"Bella, this involves us both, as you said earlier. I would have wanted to know. Everything that concerns you, I want to know. Especially when it comes to getting rid of the problem."

"It doesn't matter Edward because I'm not going to go. I'm not going to get your hopes up for nothing. It isn't worth it."

"Bella, this is your sight that we're talking about, not just nothing. It is worth at least a few hours of our time."

I felt something burning behind my eyes, and I quickly bit back the lump that had formed in my throat. Who had I been kidding other than myself? It all made sense now.

"I knew it," I muttered as I stood from my seat and began walking out the door. My hand still aching, I avoided touching the wall with my right hand to the rail as I climbed down the stairs from Carlisle's office.

"Bella, where are you going? We're not done yet!" Edward's feet thumped against the carpet of the hall as he followed me down the stairs but I ignored him despite the pain in my chest.

"I'm done, Edward. I should have known it wouldn't be enough. I should have known that I was being an idiot to think it was even close to enough." My mutterings were heard by Edward and whoever was walking past the stairwell. With every word, my volume increased.

"Emmett," I called from the bottom of the staircase. He had arrived shortly after my phone call earlier, his ears eager to hear my story of Tanya's defeat in extreme details.

"Bella, what's not enough? We're talking about your eyes here. Surely you can just wait and thin –" I cut him off.

"Of course I've thought about it! It was all I ever thought about for months after the accident. But I'm not doing it, Edward. I'm not going to get my or your hopes up for nothing."

"Hey, Bells, why are you yelling? I could hear you from Rose's room."

"Take me home, Emmett. I just need to go home."

"No Bella, we need to discuss this," Edward said angrily, his voice raising at me for the first time. Angry and tired of being spoken to in that manner from him, I turned to him.

"It just isn't enough for you, is it? You can't just accept that I'm blind, can you? You were perfectly fine before! When you didn't have the option, you swore you were fine with the fact that I can't see you, but now you are open to me going under the knife to "get rid of the problem"? Well, I'm not doing it. Isn't it enough that I'm willing to do anything else for you? Isn't it enough that I love you?"

With that, I pulled Emmett's large hand with me and dragged him outside, tripping over my own feet, tears pouring down my face. I couldn't hear Edward, but I didn't want to right now. I needed to be alone.

A/N: Wow, that was a freakishly short chapter. I'm pretty sure this chapter was one of my shortest, but probably one of the hardest to write. It involves a lot of Bella's internal monologue, a lot of questions, and a lot of angst. Bella is horribly self-loathing in this chapter. Her low self esteem is kind of wracking on my own self esteem. I feel bad about it, but I kind of wish she would just chill out a bit. But you know characters. They just seem to run away with themselves.

Anyway, I'm tired. Pooped. Exhausted. Ready to fall onto my bed and just fall asleep (but not until after my bed is made –rolls eyes-). Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this chapter.

Oh, and I'd like to thank everyone for the amazing reviews I received for the last chapter. Everyone was very supportive of my problems and just so you all know, I'm doing better. The day after I posted the last chapter, I had a panic attack (not a good thing) but I've gotten better since then. I went to the doctor recently, got some medication because it turns out that there are a couple things wrong with me.

One: I had an ear infection which is all gone now.

Two: I need to get my blood tested to check to see if I have a thyroid condition (weird…what does the thyroid do?)

Three: This one is a big one. I'm anemic. Turns out that my lack of appetite has affected my blood greatly, therefore leading me to feel sick and occasionally tired.

Four: I lost four pounds (hee hee, this one's a good one)

Five:…. I can't remember what else. Umm…Oh yeah, my insomnia is REAL! I wasn't just making it up in my head in the time that I don't sleep for about two to three days.

Anyway, that's it. I cut my hair too, so I need to update my picture. I'll do it…eventually. So yeah. Thanks for reading and please review!!!

P.S. Please read my other stories if you can. I'm kind of hoping to see how many people I can get to read them and actually like them.