A/N: My regular readers will know that I put a lot of time and effort into researching, and this chapter is no different, but there has been a tiny little bit of creative license taken with the medical situations in this chapter.
The procedures and injuries ring true, but the hospital set up, the doctors and nurses, the family members of the patients, and Emmett are given liberties not usually given in normal situations. That is my doing and is used for effect only.
Emmett POV
The shot is both the hardest and the easiest thing I've ever had to do. There's no time to think whether it's wrong or right. No choice to be made.
I plant my feet in the hall, square my shoulders, raise my hand and aim. My pistol has always felt comfortable in my hand and today is no different. The trigger has a groove worn in it from years of practise and it's now an extension of my arm. I use the groove to settle myself before firing the shot.
It's loud. Even for me and I'd been expecting it. But the room is so quiet and it makes even me startle.
They're fast, the consequences. So fast everything seems to happen at once with no time between what I can see is happening and what is happening from the result of my shot.
His body collapses like one of those toys you push up from underneath to make the legs give out and the body flop over. That's what his body does. It folds on itself, legs first, and then it topples over and lands in front of Bella.
Another shot, an unexpected one, echoes through the space and I blink rapidly to work out who fired it and from where.
The living room window explodes.
Jake had pulled his trigger as my shot entered his body. A reaction from the impact of my bullet. My shot had jerked his arm, thankfully, and the bullet meant for Bella's forehead has shattered the pane instead.
As the glass rains down I watch Bella intently. The scream that's been building inside her is let loose and it sounds like a siren. Long, agonised shrieks coming hard and fast one after the other as she takes in the scene in front of herself.
His blood is seeping from the wound now. Spreading outwards like a ruby fog. Inching its way towards her knees where she's still kneeling on the rug.
Her siren wail doesn't lessen as I go to her, lifting her under the arms and moving her away from the horror. I pull her to my chest, cradling her as best I can as I do the work for both of us and move her back into the hall and away.
I whisper that I've got her. That's she alright. I tell her gently that I'm there, that I'm Emmett, and that I won't hurt her.
I sit her on her ass on the cold tile floor of the foyer, the siren cry now filling the space by the front door.
She isn't going to let up and I wish I can spend the time to calm her but I can't. I know I only have a minute, or maybe even a few more seconds, before the whole house is going to be swarmed with cops and emergency people.
My mark is in the house somewhere and I have to find him.
Another wail joins the one Bella's making all on her own and I calm a little knowing it's the arrival of the authorities.
"Ed!" I shout, hoping to hear some type of reply. "Ed!" I shout again as I run to my office.
I switch screens over and over and over on the monitor there hoping to catch a glimpse of life in the house. The bunker is empty. The bedrooms all empty. Hallways and sitting room, the library and games room...all empty. And then, there, behind the sofa in the living room, I see him.
I run again. Desperate to get to my boy before my time's run out. I'm screaming his name, adding my own siren to the mess of them already reverberating around me.
I give no thought to the wrecked and ruined body on the living room floor as I run past it. That part of this saga is done now. Now I have to pick up the pieces.
"Ed!" I shout as I race to where he's lying on the edge of the rug face down.
I turn him over, hoping against hope that he's still breathing. I push him onto his back and am shocked to see that he's clean. There's no blood. Not a drop.
Oh sure, there's splatter from what used to be Jakes head on the wall but there's nothing on Ed. Nothing.
He's breathing. It's shallow and laboured.
I can hear the shouting now. The proper shouting. Not Bella's screams and my desperate pleas for Ed to open his eyes. But the shouting of cops and paramedics who have come to end this horror. They don't know yet that it's already done. The damage is already done and I'm sitting in the middle of it.
I add another shout to the cacophony that's building around me as I try to get a response from my boy. He's totally silent and I start to tear at his clothing to work out why.
I don't get far.
It's only another second or so before I'm pulled backwards and shoved aside.
I surrender my weapon to Frank. Or maybe it's Beans. I can't be sure because my head is swimming, my gut is churning and my eyes don't want me to see anything other than my boy.
There are paramedics all over then. Bella's still screaming but over it I hear a female voice attempting to calm her. The voice sounds official so I know she's in good hands.
I look to my left and see another uniform crouched down by Jakes body, feeling for a pulse I know he isn't going to be able to find. He calls it as I see it to his buddy who stands above him.
The guy who'd pulled me off my mark is shouting to his partner to bring a gurney and I start to panic. Had I missed something? Was he hit and I didn't find the entry point?
"Are you hurt?" I hear and I want to yell and tell the guy that it won't do him any good, that Ed's out for the count, but then I hear it again. "Are you hurt?"
I look up and see that it's me being asked the question. I shake my head but my answer isn't taken very seriously and I find myself being lowered to the floor carefully.
I stare up at the ceiling as my pulse is taken. Blue and red lights swirl and shimmer up there. There's no rhythm to it and there are so many.
A cuff is tugged up my arm and as it inflates I turn my head to the left and watch as my boy is slid onto a stretcher. There's a mask over his face and a brace around his neck already. There's no blood. No sign of any injury. But he's still out and there doesn't seem to be any visible reason for that. The paramedics are talking but I can't make out what they're saying over the loud shrill of the sirens that are still ricocheting around the space.
The cuff on my arm deflates and I hear my paramedic give the result to his partner but I don't take my eyes off my boy as they wheel him past me.
I catch a glimpse of dark, navy blue on his chest where the two halves of his shirt have been ripped open.
The realisation of what I'm seeing calms me even more than knowing he is breathing.
He'd been wearing a vest.
Bella POV
They keep asking me if I'm hurt but how do I tell them?
How do I say the words?
How do I explain that the pain I feel isn't physical? It's mental. It's not in my bones. Or in my blood. But it is in what's left of my heart.
They're dead. Seth. John. Jasper. Edward. My Edward. All dead. All gone.
"We'll have to wipe her down," someone huffs at my side.
I'm tugged and pulled, poked, prodded and scrubbed then. All over. Until it's clear that the only injuries I have are on my face and the one you can't see in my shoulder. The blood they wipe away from my skin isn't mine.
Its Seth's and Edward's. Its Jake's too.
They leave me alone for a minute and then they're back. I'm asked to shift so my clothing can be removed but I'm numb. Too numb to move. So it's done for me. I'm rolled while my t-shirt is cut off me. Rolled again and again as scissor slice through my jeans. A gown is pulled over my arms and then I'm rolled again so it can be tucked behind me.
Then its penlights in my eyes and rubber clad fingers poking my lip and eye. Someone holds my elbow while someone else rotates my shoulder. A hand runs over my scalp. Another dabs antiseptic on my cheek.
A doctor asks me questions that I don't answer. A nurse takes observations that I don't feel. The doctor asks me my name but I don't say. There is only one name bashing itself around my head and it's not mine.
They give up then. I hear them whispering a little ways away from the end of my bed. They must come to some decision because they leave. They leave me there. Alone. Alone with one name screaming itself in my brain.
A doctor comes back with Rosalie in tow. He stands at the end of my bed and explains that because she's known to me, is a registered therapist, and I have no family she's allowed to speak with me.
She's kind. She's soft and gentle and asks me simple questions to which I have no answers. I don't know my name. I only know one name and I give it to her. "Emmett," I croak.
"He can't come right now," is her reply before she asks if I know what the day or date is.
"Emmett," I say a little more loudly.
"He's at the police station," she tells me kindly, her voice low and understanding. She asks if I know how I got to the hospital. I only know one thing.
"Emmett," I shout.
"Soon," she tells me softly, patting the top of my hand carefully.
I don't know any of the answers to any of the questions she asks after that. She isn't disappointed or disapproving. She's just Rose. Soft and gentle and kind. She's patient but I'm not.
I demand to see him. I shout that he's the only one left. I yell that I need him. And still Rose is soft, quiet and gentle as she gets to her feet and presses the button above my head.
I know I'm upsetting her by screaming his name but I can't help it. It's all my brain knows. It's all my brain wants. It doesn't know me and what I've done. It doesn't know days, or dates, or times or circumstances. It just knows Emmett. It knows that Emmett is the only one alive.
"Emmett!" I bellow. "Emmett!" I roar, hoping to be heard. "Emmett!" I scream hoping that someone, anyone, can hear me and understand that there is only me and Emmett left.
I'm surrounded then. The room is full and I'm being pushed back onto the bed by another rubber clad hand and told to breathe deeply.
"Emmett!" I groan as the cold travels up my wrist and up my arm. "Emmett," I gasp as the blackness swallows me.
Emmett POV
It takes three hours. The longest three hours of my life to date.
I answer everything as calmly as I can. Precisely. With as much detail as I can recall. I know the drill.
Homer and Pete are patient with me, their questions asked with gentle respect and tolerance. They have the tapes. They have the video that has shown them the sequence of events at the house. They've talked to other people, other witnesses, they have more information than I do actually. They ask me more questions. They have me point to the screen to identify people and things, situations and occurrences.
I tell them everything. Everything they want to know I explain. Every detail they want I give them eagerly, wanting it to be over. It's a process they tell me sympathetically because they know and understand the desire I feel to run. To escape this part and to be with my boy and with the others. They know. They get it. They tell me so when I watch the part of the tape where Edward is shot.
But it takes three hours. Caius is beside me and the two detectives are thorough and as quick as they can. There's nothing they can tell me about the condition of my boy, or any of the others, because they've been in the interview room with me since I'd been brought in.
I've got the jitters bad by the time they're done and it's not just in my hands. And it's got nothing to do with having just ended a life and everything to do with not knowing who'd lived and who'd succumbed.
Caius is speaking quickly into his cell when I emerge from the station. He gives me quick details about everyone's whereabouts and then he shoves me into his car.
We head for the hospital. He avoids going by the house where we both know the cops are still working. The detour takes longer but I get it and I'm grateful.
The press line the street when we pull up. I tell Caius to go, to leave me there and to go and do what he needs to do but he ignores me and parks by the emergency room doors, off to the side where a cop slides a pass under his windshield wiper before escorting us both through the front doors.
The place is packed to the gills. It's Saturday, late afternoon, and the emergency room is full of people needing help to deal with their problems.
Caius asks where we should go after giving Ed's name to the nurse at the desk. I don't hear her reply but Caius takes my arm and leads me into the bowels of the building. We take an elevator up but if anyone asked I wouldn't be able to tell them to what floor.
I can still hear Bella's screams as they mixed with the ambulance and police sirens and my ears are ringing as we ride the car up. The white walls and floors dazzle me as we walk. The place isn't quiet, no hospital ever is, but the noise is like a dull hum in my head as we go. No one sound is distinguishable from another, just white noise in my head.
Caius must know where he's going because he guides me with a deft hand on my arm. I let him. I'm beyond making decisions for myself right then. The urge to run is strong but not knowing where I should run to keeps me moving along and keeping pace with my lawyer.
I see Carlisle and Esme first. They're huddled together on a long row of seats against some windows. I rush towards them. Esme is shaking as hard as I am though Carlisle seems a little calmer.
We speak quickly and quietly and I'm desperate for news about their son's condition. My legs almost give out when they say there isn't any yet.
I hold back from shouting that it's been three fucking hours as I watch Esme's bottom lip begin to quiver. I pat her hand and give Carlisle's a shake in support.
They start to thank me but it's too much. I don't want it, their thanks. I'd failed them, and their son, and I knew it. That I'd gotten to the house in time to stop another tragedy had been luck, not careful planning and not something I wanted thanks for.
Caius grips my forearm again as I leave them and he guides me to a waiting room filled with people. Alice is on her feet and running to me as soon as I've gotten in the door. I hold her hard, letting her say what she feels as my arms keep her steady. She's trembling and is so small in my arms. And she's angry. So fucking angry. Hissing and spitting with rage as she sobs against my chest.
I take it all in, knowing it's my fault that she's hurting the way she is.
I give her back to Sam when Leah comes into the room. She's angry too. She's hurt and confused and so fucking scared that her usual bitchy 'I can handle anything' attitude is forgotten as she cries into my neck for her poor brother.
I take that in too. I put her little brother in harm's way and I'll wear that forever now.
Everyone is there, the whole team, so when I spot the blonde head of hair at the far end of the room I put Leah into Jared's hands with one last pat to her back.
She's sobbing into her knees that she's got drawn up while she's sitting sideways on a hard backed plastic chair. I sit behind her, or beside her depending on how you saw it, and put a hand to her back. She flinches and lets her knees go. She turns to me, her beautiful blue eyes swimming with tears, her bottom lip quivering in anguish.
"Oh Em," she whimpers as I pull her to me.
"Shhh, Rosie, its okay," I tell her as I stroke her back and shoulders.
She pulls away almost immediately and when she looks up at me her eyes are fierce. She runs her hands over my face, my chest, down each arm. She squeezes my hands and pats down my hair. She checks me over from head to toe. She stands and drags me up with her and I let her. She needs this. She needs to see for herself that I'm alright.
She moves around me quickly, looking me over again. When she's done, when she's sure, she throws herself at me. I catch her around the waist and hang on tightly. For her and for myself.
"I'm okay," I tell her softly as she tucks her face into the curve of my neck. "I'm alright."
She's rambling then. Sobbing between words. "I heard the shots...they wouldn't let me...and then you didn't come out and I thought...but they took me away...oh Em," she sobs.
As garbled as she is I understand every word. She'd arrived at the house at the same time I had, ready for her session with Ed. We'd both seen the body at the gatehouse and I'd insisted she stay put while I went through the gates.
It had been my cab driver who'd called the ambulance even though we'd all known it would be futile for John. It had been a clean headshot at close range; he'd never stood a chance. The only comfort for his family would be that he didn't suffer. It had been too quick for him to suffer.
When I'd found Jasper gasping for breath and bloodied in the driveway I'd shouted for Rose to call another ambulance. She made the call, as she'd run towards where I stood with Jasper, and it was Rosie who'd kept the pressure on his shoulder wound while I'd gone inside at the sound of Bella's screams.
I knew she'd have been escorted away to a safe distance as soon as the cops arrived and I also knew she wouldn't have been told jack squat about how I'd fared inside the house.
She'd gone three hours without knowing so I let her sob a little longer before pulling away gently. "I'm okay, truly," I tell her earnestly. "Do you know who I should talk to about the others?" I ask.
"They're still in surgery. There isn't anything to learn yet," she tells me as she begins to dry her eyes on her sleeve. "They'll only tell family when the time comes anyway," she sniffs. "Bella's been asleep for a while but with no family..." she trails off.
"I'm her family," I say without having to think about it.
"I know," Rosie tells me softly as she rubs my bicep. "What I meant was, there isn't anyone here waiting for news about Bella and before they sedated her she was screaming for you."
I take that in as well. Rosie's anguish and Bella's screams. They're still echoing around in my head from back at the house and now I can hear her fresh ones from inside one of the hospital rooms too. It's imaginary but feels real as Rose leads me out of the waiting room.
"She'll probably still be in shock," she warns, her hand on the door. "She was disoriented and unable to answer simple test questions so prepare yourself for that if she's still the same now."
I nod but say nothing as we go into the room.
My first thought is that she looks small. Very small curled up on her side in the bed.
There are leads and wires coming out from under the covers that are tucked up under her chin and I take a moment to look at the monitors beside the bed as they beep and whir.
"Her shoulder has been wrenched but they're sure it's just bruised," Rosie tells me as she reads from the chart at the foot of the bed. "Her eye reacted to light under all that bruising and swelling. Her lip will heal without the need for stitches."
"Good," is all I can say as I take the tiny hand that is hanging off the side of the bed into mine. "Are all the beeps as they should be?" I ask, never taking my eyes off Bella's swollen and battered face.
"Yeah," Rosie sighs. "All her observations have been normal so far. She's only been given something light so she'll wake up very soon. I'll leave you to it for a bit and go and check on the Masens. Press the big red button there above her head if you need help."
I nod but don't speak as she slips out of the room.
"Oh sweetheart," I whisper as I lay my head down on top of her hand. "I'm so, so fucking sorry."
Her soft, raspy whisper woke me later. I had no idea how long I'd been asleep against the side of her bed but the fuzziness in my head told me I had been.
"Em?" she whispered again as I sat up fully.
"I'm here," I tell her as I scrub at my face with one hand and squeeze hers with my other. The come down from an adrenalin rush was a bitch to wade through.
She's quiet for a moment, just staring at me as she lies on her side, peering at me through one puffy, red rimmed eye and one swollen black one. I'm about to ask how she's feeling when she sits up abruptly.
"You shot him," she gasps as she starts pulling at the wires at her wrist.
"You bet your ass I did," I tell her as I close my fingers around her hand to still her as the monitors go nuts from being disconnected.
"You fucking shot him," she shouts as she digs her nails into my hand, making me jump back at the sharp pain and the even sharper tone of her voice. Her legs are over the side of the bed in the next second and before I can protest and tell her to get back into the bed she's on me.
She's screaming – even louder than she had been back at the house – and punching my chest with both fists. "You fucking killed him! You fucking killed him!" she screams over and over.
I'm too far away from the red button Rosie pointed out so I go for damage control on my own. I try to grip her wrists gently to get her to stop pounding on me but she's fast and she's strong and...wired.
And still she screams. "You fucking killed him!"
"I fucking had to!" I roar down into her face, hoping to stun her out of her rage.
She doesn't even slow. Not her fists as she fights me for control of them. Not the screaming, not the rage. "I hate you! I fucking hate you!" she hisses. "You shot him and I hate you!"
"I had to!" I bellow at her. "He had a fucking gun to your head. I had to!"
"You robbed me!" she shouts as she fights me.
I don't get it. I don't understand her. Shock I understand. Panic I understand. Pain and anguish and fear I understand but this I don't get. She's pissed at me for killing Jake? What the ever lovin' fuck?
I push her then. Hard. I push her away so that she can't claw at my chest and face anymore and once she's got her ass up against the side of the bed I shout her name and demand she look me in the eye from where she is.
"You robbed me," she says, whispering it this time. She's not calm, not by a long shot, but the fights gone out of her now.
"Of what? Of Jake? Are you telling me, after all this, that you're angry with me for killing your ex husband?" I plead. "What exactly did I rob you of?" I demand.
"Of peace," she sobs as she collapses to the floor. "You robbed me of peace. You took away my chance to be with Edward forever and I hate you."
I go to her right away. I reach for her but she bats my hands away fiercely as she sobs and shakes on the floor.
"Leave me alone," she hisses as I try again to reach for her. "I just wanted to be with him," she snarls, lifting her face to me as I hover over her. "I just wanted to be with him and now I'll be alone forever. I'll have to spend my whole life without him now," she sobs.
I'm so lost. Half of me wants to rush to the head of the bed and push the red button because she's delusional; the other half wants to pull her to her feet and demand to know what the fuck she means. I settle for something in the middle.
I sink to the floor beside her and pull her – batting her hands away from me as she fights – until she's sitting in my lap on the cold, hard floor. I still her arms by wrapping mine around her. I let her cry for a good long while and when her sobs start to stretch out I loosen my grip and tuck her head up until my chin.
"Tell me what's going on in your head," I whisper against her hair. She shakes her head but I insist. "No. You don't get to say nothing. Not after what's just gone on in here. So you tell me, sweetheart, you tell me what this is all about."
"You killed him," she whimpers, her shoulders shaking as she begins to cry again.
"I had to, sweetheart," I coo against the top of her head. "I'm sorry if you think that was the wrong choice, but I don't. I couldn't let him shoot you. I couldn't. And he deserved to die."
"I know all that," she says on a choked cough.
I'm even more confused now. "If you know that why are you so angry with me for shooting him?"
Her answer takes an age but once she gives it to me I feel a calmness come over me that hadn't been inside me for weeks.
"He killed Edward. He took him away from me. I wanted him to kill me too, Em, so that I could be with Edward forever and you took that away from me."
"Oh sweetheart," I croon as I hug her hard. "You've got it all wrong. All wrong," I tell her. "Edward's not dead. He was wearing a vest."
Bella POV
He has to tell me twice more before it sinks in.
And even then I don't believe him. Not truly. I'd watched the bullet hit him in the chest. I'd watched him go down. I'd been at his side when his eyes closed.
But Em keeps telling me. Over and over.
Edward's alive. He'd been wearing a vest. He's alive. The vest saved his life.
I'm out of his lap and on my feet as soon as my brain clicks that he's not lying, that he's never lied to me, even when he probably should have to stop me from freaking out. Emmett doesn't lie.
"I want to see him," I shout as I pull the gown around myself, trying to close the gap at the back so I'll be respectable when we leave to go to Edward.
Em gets to his feet and runs a hand through his hair, just like Edward does when he's nervous. "He was still in surgery when I came in here. I don't know if he can have visitors yet," he says without looking at me.
"Surgery?" I shout. "But you said. You told me he was...surgery?"
"He was wearing a vest. I promise. I swear it to you. I saw it for myself before the paramedics took him away," he tells me as he crosses the room and takes my shaking hands into his huge ones. "And I swear to you that he was breathing on his own when they brought him in, but, he was shot at close range, Bella. And while it's true that a silencer slows the bullet down a little bit, and the vest took the brunt of the hit, he's still injured.
"They call it Behind Armour Blunt Trauma. There's no blood and no hole but the pieces of the vest itself get embedded in the skin and they have to be removed in surgery under anaesthesia," he says as he walks me back to the edge of the bed.
I sit on it, my legs unable to hold me up any longer. "Surgery," I say to myself.
"It'll be quick," he reassures. "He's probably already out. Probably in recovery right now. But he's going to be okay, sweetheart."
Something about what he's told me has me shooting my eyes up to his. "Seth wasn't wearing a vest, was he?" I ask as the tears fill my eyes again.
"No, sweetheart, he wasn't," Em grimaces. "I don't have any information about him yet, but the doctors are doing everything they can for him."
"He's alive?" I shout, getting to my feet again. "He was alive when they brought him in?"
"That's what I was told, yeah," Em tells me with a small smile.
"What about Jasper?"
"Wearing a vest too," he grins. "He's in surgery too, but he'll be longer than Ed. The shoulder shot was through and through so that'll take a bit to repair. But the chest shot is like Ed's, just a cleanup needed," he tells me as he pushes me by the shoulders so my ass is up against the bed again. "And you're not going anywhere so you may as well get back into that bed."
I do as he says but I don't like it. My guys are all here somewhere and I want to see them. I want to know how they're doing. "John? The guard at the gatehouse?" I ask but I know the answer long before Em gives it to me.
"He's gone, Bell's," he says on a sigh as he drags the chair back to the side of the bed. He takes my hand back into his as I lie back against the pillows and let the tears come. "Even if he'd been wearing a vest..." he trails off and I know.
I already know. It had been a head shot. I'd seen it happen. Right there in front of me. But I'd hoped, I'd always hoped that there might have been...I had hoped.
I don't close my eyes. I can't. I don't want to see John fall to the ground behind my eyelids. I can't handle the memory of Seth clutching at his stomach; I don't want to see Jasper go down in the driveway again. And Edward...my Edward...falling to the floor behind the sofa clutching at his chest. Desperate for breath that I thought would never come for him again.
"It was Jake," I say quietly, just in case he didn't already know.
"Yeah," he sighs with a squeeze of my hand. His cell phone begins to chime but after looking at the screen he silences the call and squeezes my hand again. "I've gotta go and talk to the police again for a bit."
"I want to see the others," I tell him firmly.
"You know you can't but that doesn't mean you can't have visitors. Tell me who you want and I'll send them in," he says as he gets to his feet, wiping at his eyes.
I think about asking to see Esme and Carlisle but I can't. I'm the reason their son is in surgery right now. Same goes for Alice, it's my fault her Jasper is hurt. Leah won't want to see me and I don't blame her. There isn't anyone I want to see before I get the chance to say sorry to the guys personally.
"Nobody," I tell him as calmly as I can.
"I don't want you staying in here on your own, not right now," he counters.
"Nobody," I tell him as I roll over, away from him, and pull the covers up and over my head.
He says nothing more. All I hear are the sounds of his shoes and then the click of the door as it closes behind him.
Barely a minute later I hear the door swoosh open again and then the hushed voices of Edward's parents. I stay under the covers. They stop talking after a little bit and then the room is filled with only the weight of my guilt.
Emmett POV
I hadn't had to look too far to find Ed's parents. They were right where I'd last left them, sitting in the hard, uncomfortable chairs outside the recovery suite.
"Any news?" I ask as I go towards them. The simultaneous shake of their heads makes my gut twist. Again. "Bella's up and awake. She says she doesn't want to see anyone but I don't want her left alone and I need to go and..."
"We'll go," Carlisle says as they both get to their feet.
"Are you alright, dear?" Esme asks me quietly.
"I'm fine," I assure her though I'm sure she can see the lie as well as hear it in my quavering voice.
Thankfully they both let it drop and as they walk away in the direction of Bella's room I hear Carlisle reassure his wife that he'd let the nurses know where they were if there was any news on their son.
I watch them enter Bella's room and hope that she opens up to them.
I take a deep breath then and it feels like the first clean one I'd taken in hours, maybe days. The threat to my people was over now but the tension and anxiety remained.
I'd totally lost control of the situation back at the house the instant I'd instructed Jasper to let the days plans unfold as we'd planned previously. This was all on me. All of it. Every injury – and the two deaths – were all on me and I felt it. It was heavy. A tangible weight that had settled on me in the hours since I'd listened to Jasper's frantic phone message and then heard the distinct chime of Bella's personal alarm coming from my cell.
I look around the waiting area and wonder who I can help. Would any of them let me try I think as I look over Alice' hunched form, then Leah's. Paul and Jared were talking quietly with one of the cops who had come to take statements. The other boys are all talking amongst themselves off to one side of the small area.
Rose is nowhere to be seen and I'm left standing on my own just staring at the group and wondering what the hell would come next.
I feel a hand on my shoulder and spin around quickly, my fists coming up to defend myself without thought.
"Whoa," Caius says quickly, stepping away. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's okay. Sorry," I tell him sheepishly. "I'm a bit...yeah," I trail off.
"To be expected," he nods. "Listen, I've got a quiet room set up for you one floor down for when you need it. It's room three-oh-seven. I've got to go for a bit but you call me if you need anything, right?" he asks.
I tell him thank you and try to keep how pathetically grateful for his intuition I am out of my voice as I say it. We shake hands and I thank him again for his appearance at the station twice in the one day and at such short notice. He says it's what I pay him for but I know it's more than that. He's a good guy and he'd always been good to me. More friend than lawyer. I thank him again and as I watch him leave I realise that I am going to need the room he's organised for me.
There's a lot to do even though half the people I need to do it for aren't up and about yet.
I might not have been able to control what had happened today but I sure as hell could control the fall out.
I take one last look at the crowd in the waiting room. I wait until Sam lifts his eyes to mine and then I give him a chin lift to ask if he needs anything. He shakes his head minutely and I nod to show I've seen it.
I make my way down to the third floor and locate room 307. It's just a plain, blank space with a single table, a few chairs and a phone but it's perfect for what I need.
I dial the number I need from memory and wait as it rings.
"Aro, there's been an incident," I say as soon as the call is answered.
"I'm downstairs. The press conference is set for six o'clock. I've got it all covered," he tells me matter of factly.
I sigh in relief. I want to know who'd called him, what he knew and how, but it suddenly doesn't feel very important so I settle for a very heartfelt thank you. He tells me to piss off, to do what I've got to do and to call him the instant I have some news about the condition of my people.
I leave him to do what he's good at.
My next call takes a little longer to answer.
"Garrett," I sigh when it does. "I've got trouble."
"I'm heading your way now," he tells me matter of factly and once again I'm grateful that my brother doesn't need a thousand words where five will suffice.
"Mom?" I ask.
"With me. Three hours tops," he informs me.
"Don't go to the house," I tell him.
"Aro's got us covered. Three hours. Hang in til we get there, bro," he says.
"I will. And thanks," I tell him before ending the call.
Everyone seemed to know and they all seemed to be thinking far more clearly than I am I think as I stare at the phone wondering what I should do next. I'm relieved of the burden of my indecision when the door opens and Rose comes in. She looks tired. Worn out really and I wonder if I look the same.
"What do you need?" she asks right away.
"Answers," I tell her straight up. "First I need to know how my boys are doing."
"I don't know if I can find that out," she sighs. "I'm not a relative of any of them. I don't know if they'll tell me anything."
"You've got privileges at this hospital, right?" I beg.
"I do. But not for these patients," she says with a shake of her head.
"Will you please try? Please? I want to be able to tell the others something. Anything," I beg.
She gives me a small smile and puts her hand to my forearm. "I'll do what I can," she concedes. "I don't want you to get angry if they won't tell me though. Its policy and I don't know if the powers that be will break that rule just for me. Or for you."
"I'll take what I can get," I tell her as I put my hand over hers. "There are other ways to get what I want if this doesn't work," I tell her with as much of a grin as I can muster.
"Charm?" she asks, eyebrows raised. I shake my head and she grins. "Where's your weapon?" she asks, her thoughts obviously going where mine had.
"Don't worry," I scoff, "the cops took it to match to the hole in Jake's head. I'm not packin' right now."
She shudders a little and I think my attempt at levity has been a gross misjudgment but then she grins just a little. "I want you to know, no matter what, I think you did the right thing today."
I don't know what to say. None of it has really sunk in yet. So rather than reply I pull her to me and hold her hard up against my chest.
The knock at the door makes us step apart but I know that, for right now, it's better that other people believe that our connection is purely professional. At least for a little while longer I think as Homer and Pete come into the room.
"I'll call you, or come up here, as soon as I know something," Rosie tells me as she slips out the door.
"Any news on your boys yet?" Homer asks as he takes a seat at the table.
"They're alive. That's all I know for now," I tell him as I wave a hand for Pete to sit as I do. "Do you have the information I asked for?"
"Right here," Pete says as he slides a typed page across the table to me.
I read it through once and then close my eyes. "I really appreciate this. I know it's not protocol," I tell them both.
"Maybe not protocol, but it's a good thing all the same. They already know and a uniform is there with them now but it'll be a comfort for them to hear from you. We'll leave you to make the call," he says as the both get to their feet again. "We'll be in the waiting room when you're ready."
I nod to show I'd heard and then I take up the handset on the phone. I read the names of John's parents once more as I dial the number. "Mr and Mrs Bauer, my name's Emmett McCarty and I'm so sorry for your loss..."
Bella POV
"We know you're tired, we'll let you rest. We'll be outside, just down the hall in the recovery suite's waiting room," Esme says softly as she uses gentle fingers to push a strand of hair off my face.
I don't say anything. I haven't said a word to either of them since they'd come in after Emmett left. They'd been quiet too, at first.
After a little while they probably figured I was asleep so they began to talk in whispers, but I could hear them none the less. They talked about things I didn't want to know. How frightened they'd been when Alice got the call from Jasper about my alarm. How awful the drive back to town had been because they didn't know what was happening. Esme made quiet mention of how horrible it had been to be directed to the hospital, rather than the house, as they'd gotten closer and Carlisle had commented how fearful he'd been to learn that there were multiple casualties.
And worst of all was hearing how grateful they were that I was alright.
I count to one hundred once they're gone. I count another fifty before I'm sure nobody else is going to come into the room and then I'm out of the bed and on my feet, tugging the gown closed at my back again.
I take the heart monitor off my finger and let it fall onto the bed. I tug the blood pressure cuff off my arm and let it dangle by the machine that is now squealing its head off because I've removed it.
I press all the buttons on it in turn but nothing shuts it up so I yank the plug out of the wall. That does the trick and the room is blessedly quiet again.
I listen at the door and when I think the coast is clear I open it and peer out. There are people in the corridor but none that I recognise. I slip out of the room and look both ways. My feet are bare so I make hardly any sound at all as I make my way to the waiting room.
They're all there, everyone I expect to see are all there. They nod to me in turn as I make my way through the room to a row of empty chairs at the back. They acknowledge me, sure, but nobody speaks and I think that's just as well as I sink into the last chair in the last row.
The silence feels like an accusation, and maybe it is. After all, I'm the reason everyone is here. A few short weeks ago they'd all been going about their business happily.
But I hadn't been happy. I'd been miserable. Miserable and angry, confused and hurt. And then I'd scaled the fence and set all this into motion.
I've got questions. Hundreds of them floating around in my head dying for the chance to come out but I can't ask them. I want to know if Alice is alright and if she's got someone coming to be with her. I want to know if Sam's wife is coming to be with him soon. I want to know if Leah has called her parents and I want to ask if Jasper even has any parents. I want to know but I can't ask.
I study the room looking for answers without having to ask them.
By the window a doctor is speaking with a nurse and they are both writing notes on a clipboard, glancing over at me before making more notes and saying things I can't and don't want to hear in hushed voices.
Alice is crouched on a chair at the furthest point away from me. Sam sits to her right but they don't speak now, not since I've come into the room. She looks tiny. Fragile. Compared to Sam's huge frame she looks like a little girl and she probably feels like one right now because I sure do.
Since the nod as I'd entered neither of them has looked at me. Not once. I don't blame them at all. I did this. They shouldn't look at me.
A policeman comes into the room and heads right to Sam. He crouches in front of him and they speak quickly and quietly. The cop leaves seconds later and Sam returns his stare to the opposite wall. Alice hasn't looked at anything other than her hands the whole time I've been there.
They shouldn't look at me.
A doctor in scrubs comes through the door and immediately everyone holds their breath. He asks for Leah and as he takes her aside and begins whispering the others sigh heavily and return to their positions. Nobody speaks. Nobody looks at me. And they shouldn't.
As quickly as he arrives the doctor leaves, Leah following in his wake, and I find myself thinking that's good. They shouldn't tell me what's going on. I don't deserve to know.
After a few minutes Sam gets to his feet and joins Jared and the one I think is named Embry on the other side of the room. They speak in hushed tones as Sam shows them something on his cell phone screen. There's a lot of nodding and a few hand gestures and then Sam returns to his place beside Alice. He puts his arm on the back of her chair and I watch as he gives her shoulder a squeeze before he goes back to staring at the wall again.
I slip further down into the uncomfortable plastic chair and keep my eyes on the door. It's only another few minutes before another doctor in scrubs sticks his head into the room and asks for the relatives of Mr Whitlock.
"His parents are still travelling to get here," Alice says in a tiny, choked whisper as she meets the doctor in the doorway, Sam close on her heels.
I'm happy that Jasper has family and that they're on their way. But I'm also worried that Alice' family aren't here to be with her. I want to comfort her but I can't. I shouldn't. She'd never accept that from me now anyway I think as I watch her nod along with whatever news the doctor is giving her.
The conversation is short and when the doctor moves away from the door Alice and Sam follow him out. They don't tell me anything and I don't deserve to hear it anyway. They don't turn as they leave. They don't look at me and they shouldn't.
A dark haired woman with olive skin comes in next. She's agitated as she pokes her head in the door but the instant she sees the two guys in the opposite corner she puts a hand to her mouth and rushes to them. They hug her in turn and I hear that her name is Emily. She's Sam's wife. The three of them speak hurriedly as they leave the room together, probably to go find Sam, none of them giving me a look as they leave.
And that's as it should be I think as I watch them go.
They shouldn't look at me.
I'm poison. Toxic. Noxious.
And I'm alone.
Edward POV
I wake to soft, warm hands and a gentle voice telling me to breathe carefully.
I don't understand the instruction because breathing has never been something I've needed instruction to achieve before.
A few seconds later I understand the direction.
My chest is on fire. A burning ache radiates outwards, covering the whole of my upper body. I groan and the movement intensifies the ache to the point that I see stars behind my eyes.
"Shhh," the gentle voice coos at my side. "Don't try to speak. You're safe here. You're safe and you're going to be just fine. Just lie still and breathe carefully now."
I do as I'm told without needing the coaching. If opening my mouth and attempting to speak is going to cause the explosion of pain then I know to do as I'm told and just lie still.
Something cold begins to spread through my hand. It travels beyond my wrist and up to my bicep, causing another kind of ache. I feel it warm a little before I lose concentration and the overwhelming need to sleep overtakes me.
I wake up quickly. I know exactly where I am and why. There's no fog in my head for the first time in years and I'm grateful.
I can hear that I'm not alone in the room too. Feet are shuffling. Papers are being turned. My mother's voice is soft as she speaks to my left. There is a slow, rhythmic beeping to my right.
"Is she alive?" I ask as I open my eyes.
My mother is there then, leaning over me, tears brimming over as she smiles at me. "Welcome back," she says softly but it's not what I want to hear.
"Is she alive?" I ask again as I attempt to sit up.
"Lie still, darling," my mother croons as my father joins her at my bedside.
"Tell me!" I try and shout but the pain in my chest won't let me so instead of the forceful sound I want to make it comes out more like a gasp and a croak.
"She's fine," dad tells me, finally. "How are you feeling?" he asks me.
"Bella," I croak again as I tug my hand out of my mothers.
"Go and fetch a nurse," my mom tells my dad. "Lie still, darling, you're only just back from surgery."
"Bella," I groan as I put both hands under myself and push up. The pain is excruciating but I find I don't care. "Bella," I croak again as my mother puts her hand to my shoulder.
"I'll get her. I'll get her if you lie back down," she tells me as her tears spill over her cheeks.
"Bella," I grunt as I lower myself back to the pillows.
"I'll get her," mom promises as she rushes from the room.
The wait seems unbearable. The only sounds in the room are the heart monitor that is going berserk because of my pain and my own gasps for breath.
When the door opens I look up and expect Bella but it's not. It's my dad and a nurse who is quickly at my side and begging me to calm down, to lie still, and to take shallow breaths.
"Bella," I pant through the pain.
"Can't you give him something?" my dad asks in a rush.
"Only a doctor can," the nurse tells him curtly. "Lay still Mr Cullen. You have to lie still and get your breathing under control or we'll have to sedate you again," she says to me before turning to my dad. "You were warned that he might wake disoriented."
"Bella. Now," I tell my dad who is staring at me through glassy eyes. I'm not disoriented, I'm determined.
Dad nods just once and then flees the room. I want to tell him that mom's already gone to get her but I can't get the words out against the pain. The nurse is fiddling with the monitors at my side and the sound of the beeping is getting on my nerves.
"Get out," I manage to grunt.
"Mr Cullen," she huffs as she adjusts the blood pressure cuff on my arm.
"Masen," I cough, making my pain skyrocket so high I have to close my eyes and hold very still until the white hot needles are finished skewering me through the chest.
"Alright Mr Masen, calm down, breathe shallowly," she says, not shifting from beside me one inch.
I'm about to tell her to get the fuck out when the door opens again. Its mom, then dad and then Bella. The monitor goes crazy when I get a look at her all banged up.
The nurse is huffing and saying something about having to insist on no visitors if I can't control my breathing for myself. Mom's telling her to shut up. Dad's telling her to get out. And after she's made one more huff she leaves, promising to return very soon with a doctor in tow.
Then it's just the four of us.
Bella's tears start before anyone has uttered a word. "I'm so sorry..." she begins, but she can't finish.
"We'll head the doctor off," dad says as he reaches for mom's hand and tugs her to the door.
We stare at each other for the longest time, the beeping of the heart monitor doing its thing beside me, my shallow gasping breaths and Bella's sniffing are the only sounds in the room.
I swallow thickly before asking her to come sit by me in a rasping voice. She does and I ache at her hesitation to take the hand I offer her. She does, eventually, but I can see the mental conflict going on behind her eyes as she takes my hand.
"Jake killed your dad," I tell her as I pant through the fire in my chest, wanting to at least ease the pain of not knowing for her finally.
"I know," she whispers, her eyes cast down at her lap.
I take a second to wonder how she knows but find I just don't care anymore. That she now knows the truth is enough I think as I try to draw in more oxygen so I can speak again. "Accident," is all I can get out before the pain takes my breath away.
Her eyes find mine then. Well, her one good eye finds mine and I assume that the one hiding beneath the swelling and bruising would be staring at me too if it could. "It wasn't an accident. He confessed," she says softly.
She's misunderstood and I hope it can keep it simple enough to explain it because the heart monitor is going nuts and the pain in my chest is getting worse with each word I manage to get out. "Aiming for me," I tell her simply.
"I know that," she whispers. "He told me that."
"Charlie saved me," I manage before I have to close my eyes and pant through the agony again.
"I know that too," she tells me as she stands.
I want to tell her to stay, to sit back down, beg her not to leave me but I can't. It hurts so badly to even breathe that the idea of begging her is beyond me right then. Instead I squeeze her hand hard and keep squeezing it over and over in the hope of making myself understood.
She drops my hand and I make a grunting sound of displeasure but she shushes me instantly.
I watch, relieved, as she hikes up the hospital gown she's wearing and climbs up onto the bed beside me. There's very little room as I'm lying right in the centre but she doesn't seem to care as she lies down against my side.
She curls up there, waits for me to lift my arm high enough for her to burrow into my side a little more and then she closes her eyes and sighs deeply. "I love you but you need to sleep," she whispers softly as I lower my arm to her shoulder and close my eyes too.
Alice POV
I watch the monitor and count the beats of his heart even though the screen has a flashing green digital display that tells me the number per minute. It's steady. The nurse has told me it's a little fast but that steady is good. So I keep counting.
He's very still. Very pale. His hair is matted to his forehead and he's bruised up the side of his neck and down his arm but he's absolutely beautiful still.
The beeping of the monitor speeds up as he wakes. I'm on my feet right away and leaning over him, brushing that pale blonde mane back, as his eyes open.
"Hey there," I whisper as he comes around.
"Is my mark alive?" he asks though it's barely a whisper and it obviously causes him a great deal of pain to get it past his lips.
"He's alive and almost well," I tell him, laughing lightly at his need to protect Edward even as he comes out of anaesthesia. "He fared better than you actually. He got one in the chest but my brilliant boyfriend was thinking on his feet and left a vest for him."
"Jake," he grunts before closing his eyes tightly and breathing through his nose to stave off the pain.
"Dead by Emmett's hand," I tell him matter of factly. I wanted that out of the way right off. "If it wasn't for the vest you put on you wouldn't be here right now either."
His lips turn up but he doesn't actually laugh. I can see that he wants to, but the pain in his chest and shoulder is too great to try. "I put Bella's on," he gasps through gritted teeth. "If the second slug was any lower I'd have two navels."
I do laugh then. It's a relieved kind of laugh and probably sounds a bit maniacal but I don't care. I'm relieved that he's alive and that he's only come away with a clean through and through bullet hole in his shoulder and a small wound from the Kevlar embedded in his chest. The rest is swelling and bruising and would subside fast, so the doctor tells me.
"If you're joking around I know you're going to be just fine," I tell him as I kiss his forehead.
"Parents," he croaks.
"On their way," I'm happy to report.
"Scar will freak mom out," he grunts.
"Shhh," I tell him, grinning down at him. "She'll just be happy you're going to be okay. Don't worry about the scar."
"Chicks dig scars, right?" he grins but I can see the misery in his eyes and can hear the catch in his voice because he's trying to hold a conversation when he should be asleep and letting his body repair itself.
"Yeah chicks dig scars," I whisper as his eyes close.
"Something to tell the grandkids," he manages to get out before he succumbs to the healing power of rest. And the massive dose of morphine the machine at his side has just given him.
Leah POV
Mom is quiet and as white as a sheet as the surgeon walks towards us.
"Mrs Clearwater?" he asks and when she nods he sits down by us and turns so that he can speak to us both. "Your son did well," he tells us right away, making mom start sobbing. I let out the breath I felt like I'd been holding in for hours while we waited for news.
"Can we see him?" mom asks around her crying and sniffing.
"Soon," he says with a small smile. "He's being moved to the ICU as we speak."
"ICU?" mom asks as her shakes make a comeback.
"It's necessary I'm afraid," he says gently.
"How long will he have to be there?" I ask when it looks like mom can't.
"Around a week or so," he tells me, giving mom a chance to gather herself before he dives in with more information. "Intensive care doesn't always mean a critical patient," he explains slowly. "Sometimes the things we have to do to keep the patient stable enough to complete a surgery means they need some extra care after the operation, that's all. And for Seth that's exactly what he's going to need."
"Will he be okay after that?" mom asks.
"I doubt you've been given much information so let's start at the beginning," he says patiently. "Seth was unconscious when he was brought in and he'd lost a lot of blood so his pressure dropped very quickly. That meant the trauma team in emergency had to put a tube in his throat to help him breathe and some large tubes into the backs of his hands, and one in his arm, so that they could replace the blood he'd lost at the scene.
"A quick x-ray showed that the bullet hadn't fractured any bones and a CT scan proved that the blood loss wasn't due to the rupture of any major blood vessels or arteries.
"That meant the trauma team could stabilise his vitals and send him to me for the repair job. I won't get too technical right now, there'll be time enough for that once the surgical resident takes over his care once he's settled into ICU, so the simple explanation for the need for surgery is that the bullet sliced through his liver.
"I know that sounds scary but it was a simple thing to fix in Seth's case. I've stitched the laceration on both sides, and the entry wound, and I'm happy with his blood pressure and the stability of his other vital signs so I've released him to the ICU for care."
"Thank you," mom sobs as she grabs for his hand and squeezes.
"It was absolutely my pleasure," he says gently, squeezing her hand right back. "Now, I don't want you to worry or be frightened when you see him in ICU. He's had the breathing tube removed now that the surgery is complete but I've left the nasogastric tube in. That's so that we can give him some food and fluids straight into his belly so that the swelling to his liver, and from the surgical incision, don't impair his stomach and renal function while they heal.
"The tubes in his hands are pretty big, and it'll look a bit confronting at first because one of them is connected to a machine that's pumping some extra blood into his system for a few more hours, but that will be one of the first things we remove over the coming days.
"We're going to keep the other one in his other hand so we can give him pain relief and what we call a paralytic drug to keep him asleep through the worst of the pain. He's not in a coma, I promise you that, but he won't be able to wake up on his own until we stop giving him that drug. Alright?" he asks.
We both nod, our heads swimming with information and fear. "Can we see him now?" mom asks.
"Let me go and check that the nurses have him all settled in and then I'll take you to him. Sit tight," he tells us and we watch him walk away down the hall before turning into another corridor.
We're quiet for a minute and then mom turns to me. "He made it," she sighs.
"He's tough," I remind her.
"I wish the two of you had stuck with ballroom dancing. Much safer and you were so good as a team," she sighs.
I laugh. I can't help it. "We're still a team, mom," I remind her. "And after this I'll make sure he wears a vest. I'll bedazzle it myself if you want," I chuckle.
Emmett POV
I know to be quiet when I go into the room but I can't help the tiny bark of surprise that escapes my throat when I find not only Ed in the bed but Bella too.
She's asleep; he's staring at me with wide eyes as I move to the side of the bed.
"You alright?" I whisper when I get there.
"Sore," he says quietly, his eyes crunching up in what I think might be serious pain.
"You need me to get someone to give you some juice?" I ask, pointing to the tube coming out of the back of his hand.
He shakes his head and I have to wonder at the wisdom of not accepting pain meds. It makes me wonder if he's alright mentally. I've seen the tapes from the house so I know he remembers things now, but I don't know yet what effect the remembering has had on his brain.
I'm lost in thought when he gasps out a short sentence, "Have we lost everyone?"
I pull the chair to the side of the bed and make sure he can see my eyes as I speak. "No, buddy. We haven't, thankfully. They're pretty banged up but it looks like they're going to be okay."
"Seth?" he manages to ask before coughing shallowly, which wakes Bella at his side.
"Hey, sweetheart," I tell her softly as she turns over to face me. I gratefully take the hand she offers me and rub my thumb over it as I fill them in on what I know. "They're both out of surgery and Jasper was awake and joking with Alice last I heard. Seth's not awake yet but Leah and his mom were allowed in to see him just now, so that's got to be good."
They're both quiet as they take in the news. Bella cries quietly, burying her face in the pillow for a moment. Ed stares up at the ceiling but doesn't make a sound.
The silence gets awkward and I decide to leave them to rest so I get to my feet, drop Bella's hand with another pat, and make my way around the foot end of the bed.
"How'd this happen?" Edward croaks before I get much further.
"Let's leave that for now," I reply gently. "I only know what I've seen on the tapes from the house and bits and pieces from after emergency crews got there. Seth knows some things that I can't tell you, Jasper too and Bella knows more than all of us. When everyone's up to it we'll put all the pieces together as a group, alright?"
"No," Bella sighs and as I'm about to protest she continues. "We'll put the pieces together as a family, won't we Em?"
"Yeah, we will," I tell her as emotion begins to well up inside me. I tamp that shit down as best I can for the time being. I know the debriefing is going to be rough and I want them both to have a little more time before things get heavy again. "I can buy you a little more time to just be, but you're both going to have to make a statement soon."
"Rose has to be there with us all when we do," Bella insists firmly.
"If that's what you want," I agree. "But can I ask why?"
"In case it's too much and he shifts," she whispers, but I catch it.
It's something I've thought about a lot since viewing the tapes. Was I ever going to see James or Rupert again I wonder as I stare at him. "Ed?" I ask, hoping he'll know what I mean.
"Don't know," comes his gasping reply.
"We'll work it out," I assure them both and leave them to sleep.
A/N: Thank you for reading.
Please review.