By now you all know, I do not own Twilight. Lord, I wish I did, though... *sigh*
Red, thank you so much for putting up with my shit. You are the best beta a talentless hack like me could hope for. LOL I love you. :)
There are three girls I couldn't live my life without, and they know who they are. Flove you.
Well, you beautiful, amazing readers of mine, I really hope this was well worth the wait. I love y'all hard.
Chapter Twenty – BPOV
With a quiet whoosh, the elevator doors slide shut at my feet. The resulting puff of air swirls about my ankles, raising goose bumps across my skin. I shudder involuntarily.
"Are you okay, love?" Edward asks, his eyes red-rimmed and bright, and he stumbles over himself, rambling, "I mean, I know you're not okay, but I just meant to ask why you're shivering."
Unable to speak through my puffy lips, I nod as best as I'm able. The movement sends a shooting pain through my cerebrum. I don't think I've ever experienced a worse headache. A tear trickles down my cheek, over my swollen face.
All the while, the pair of paramedics fusses over my aching body. I don't pay them much attention, focusing instead on the bald fear emanating from Edward.
His large hand reaches out to gently brush away the tear drifting over my temple. "Don't cry, baby girl. They're going to make you all better." He chokes on the last word before bending down to whisper in my ear, "I thought I'd lost you," and tears from his brilliant green eyes leak into my matted hair, wetting my scalp.
I turn my head a fraction to get a better look at him, wanting to ease his fears, and I try to reach my hand out to him, but I can't. The muscles in my arms pinch painfully when I try to jerk my hand again.
"Ow! Damn it! Shit!" I cry, falling back against the gurney, my arms locked in place against the cold metal bars. Panic wells in my belly, clenching my muscles, forcing bile into the back of my throat. I tug at the restraints, my breathing rapidly increasing. With my neck secured, I wasn't able to see what they were doing. A little forewarning would have been nice.
"Miss, please don't fight us, we're only trying to help," a paramedic—Sam, according to his nametag—says as he checks the bindings at my wrists and tightens some around my legs. "You've got to hold still until we can assess your injuries. And if you don't stop pulling, I'll have to sedate you. "
"What? Why?" I ask, feeling the hysteria flood my veins, and the elevator bings our arrival at the ground level.
The doors open and Sam's face leaves my vision. "Just let us do our job. I know it's scary-"
"Scary?" I screech, my anger suddenly at boiling point. "You've got no inkling, asshole!"
"Bella, please… You're alright; they know what they're doing," Edward tries to calm me, but to no avail.
"Get the fucking restraints off me now!" My heart races, and blood pounds at my temples. I start to sob. "Edward…Edward, please, make them stop."
His large hands stroke my face, smoothing away my tears with some difficulty, while we rush through the lobby and onto the sidewalk. The streetlights shine behind him, bestowing him with a bright halo. In contrast with the dark sky, the illusion of Edward on my eyes is nearly blinding.
"Bella, look at me. Keep your eyes on mine."
My drowning eyes find his glistening emeralds, and I exhale a large gust of breath I didn't realize I was holding in. Given everything going on around me, I feel an innate sense of calm radiating through Edward and into me. Reaching the ambulance, I feel a sharp pinch, a pinprick, in my thigh. It burns, and I try to turn my head, but Edward holds my face still, murmuring words of comfort to me, his warm breath falling over my skin. My tense limbs suddenly feel light and non-existent.
"Ebwarb," I mumble, "my eyes are tireb," and my lids slide closed over my pupils, blocking out the interior roof of the ambulance. I melt into the gurney, completely at ease with the world.
*O*O*
"The doctors said no visitors today, but you're more than welcome to come tomorrow, barring any unforeseen complications." A deep voice cracks on the last word. "No, she hasn't." He pauses. "Yes, of course I will. Oh, wait, I think she's waking up. I'll call you if anything changes. I will. Bye." Another pause. "Bella? Baby? Are you awake?"
Soft footfalls approach, and I struggle to lift my eyelids. Glimpsing a blurred face through my lashes, a rush of panic surges through me, and I try to scream. Nothing but a scratchy croak emerges; my throat is so dry.
Cool fingers brush my forehead, pushing back errant strands of hair. "Shhh, it's okay," the voice croons, "I'm not going anywhere. Would you like some water?"
I relax immediately; I know that voice, even through the ringing in my ears, but I need to see his face. Rapidly I close and open my eyes, trying to clear the mucus from my goopy orbs. Slowly, his chiseled face, with stubble covering its chin, bright green eyes, and cautious smile become clearer. Unable to explain to Edward how parched I am, I gesture toward my neck with leaden arms.
With a knowing smile, he lifts a Styrofoam cup with a straw to my lips and I sip greedily, pulling in as much as I can swallow without choking. The ice cold fluid passes over my tongue and down my esophagus, soothing the aching dryness. When I've had my fill, I rest my head back against the pillows.
"I'm sorry…if I scared you," I tell him, my voice sounding as though I've been asleep for six months. I cough and clear my throat before I continue. "My ears are ringing, so I didn't realize it was you at first. Who were you talking to on the phone?" I ask as the pressure in my ears subsides slightly, relieving me of the consistent ringing.
"Huh?" he replies distractedly. "Oh, it was Rose. She and Emmett want to visit, but the doctors said no one but me today." I open my mouth, but Edward stops me and says, "I already spoke with Alice. She said to tell you she'll see you as soon as they'll let her in tomorrow." I smile, glad he's able to read my thoughts so well. "Are you in any pain, love?"
"Not really. I feel kind of…puffy." The hurts are muted, throbbing, but not unbearable. My right eye isn't quite able to open fully, and my cheekbone is obscuring my eyesight. Glancing at my fingers, I notice how swollen and bruised they are; I flinch.
Following my gaze, Edward speaks up quietly, in a controlled voice. "It looks like you fought with him."
I nod slightly and watch as a stray tear leaks from the corner of his eyes and trails down his cheek. "Don't cry," I whisper, fighting back hysterics. "I'm home now. Home…with you, with the man," I choke, "who gave me a reason to fight him, to fight my—my kidnapper." A wealth of emotions render me mute, save for the sobs wracking my chest.
Edward rests his weight gently on the side of my bed, cocking himself on his hip so he can wrap his arms around my shoulders. I fall into him, feeling the pull of an IV on the top of my hand. I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck and whimper.
He pulls back, keeping his grip on my shoulders, to look into my eyes. "Oh, sweet girl, I've never been so scared in all my life. When I found you at our door, I was relieved and horrified, and I came to a huge realization. I don't know—"
"You're awake," interrupts a kind-faced nurse who comes bustling in the door. "How're you feeling, dear?"
Edward slips from the bed, stepping back to give the nurse room; I instantly long for his touch, his warmth, his comfort.
Dragging my eyes from him, I focus on the nurse and her question.
"I'm a little sore, but I guess that's to be expected after someone drugs you and slaps your face with a pistol," I reply sardonically.
A little taken aback, the nurse—Carmen—drops her jaw and stares for a moment before catching herself and showing me where the button for the pain med release is.
I feel a flush climb my cheeks. I didn't mean to be so blunt, but her chipper attitude was grating my nerves. I'm overly emotional as it is without her acting like I'm here for a spa treatment after everything that has happened. Still, I know she meant no harm. I'm so embarrassed by my words, when Carmen informs me Dr. Masen will be coming to check up on me, not that I know who Dr. Masen is, I merely nod, closemouthed and avoiding her gaze. She says she'll be back to check on me and not to hesitate calling her if I need her. "I'll see you soon."
Listening to Carmen's soft-soled retreat, I sink further into my pillows in the hopes I'll disappear through the mattress and into a hole. No matter what I've been through, it doesn't give me the excuse to be horrible to people helping me. I sigh and moan, tossing an arm over my eyes. The cold tubing from the IV trails along my skin, sending chills down my spine.
Long, cool fingers wrap around my wrist and gently peel my limb from my face. Worried oceans bore into my own shitty pools, indecision and apprehension clear within the former.
My skin burns with mortification, and I grumble, "How horrible am I?"
A light chuckle softens a few lines from Edward's brow. "Darling, you amaze me. You've just been kidnapped, drugged, and apparently beaten, and you're worried about how you're behaving?" He shakes his head with a humorless laugh. "Quite frankly, I'm kind of waiting for you to break down." I glare and open my mouth to refute, but he stops me with an upraised hand. "Please, don't be offended, Bella, but that's what Dr. Masen told me to expect."
Frowning, I think about what he said. I'm not sure I like this Dr. Masen. He doesn't know me; how dare he make assumptions on my behalf. Irrational anger burns beneath the surface, and I twist my fingers into the sheets, glaring at a point on the wall behind Edward's beautiful face. I suppose I am breaking down in a way. My outbursts of aberrant anger could be viewed as such.
"They need a new decorator for this hospital," I say matter-of-factly, attempting to change the subject. "Why does every medical facility have to be full of muted peaches and dusty powdered blues? It's not 1990 anymore."
This induces a full laugh from him. "Only you would be concerned with the décor, my lovely girl."
"If I wasn't thinking about that kind of thing, you would need to be more worried." I reach up to pull him down for a soft kiss, determined to completely sway our conversation. I place my fingers in his palms and he holds them softly, minding my damaged knuckles. I pluck gently at his lips, ignoring the slight puffiness left on mine. "What…time…is…it?" I ask between kisses.
Leaning back, but keeping his grip on my hands, Edward replies, "It's nearly dinnertime. You've been out since about eleven last night."
Surprise colors my tone. "Why did you let me sleep so long?"
"You needed it. Besides, they gave you quite a few different medications."
With a sigh, I ask, "How long until I can go home?"
"Well, Dr. Masen was running a few blood tests to determine exactly what Mike gave you. He hasn't been back in a while, but he wouldn't give me specifics. I'm your emergency contact, but we're not married or related, so they won't share anything else with me." Edward has a hard time hiding his irritation.
"That's stupid of them." I roll my eyes and a shooting pain pinches my optical nerve, radiating through my brain. "Oh, my head! I think I need to push that magical little button the nurse showed me." I grapple through my sheets, pulling on the cord closest to me only to be unpleasantly surprised by a tug on my urethra. "Oh my God!" I wriggle. "What the hell?"
"What's wrong?" he asks, unaware of my current dilemma.
"Um, I just pulled on something attached to my crotch. Where's my pain button?"
Edward laughs quietly and points to the device hanging on the rail of my bed.
Being the epitome of maturity, I stick out my tongue and push the button. His chest shakes with silent laughter, which I choose to ignore, and I lie back, waiting for the drugs to invade my bloodstream. Edward drops a kiss on my forehead and pulls a chair closer to my bed so he can hold my hand. His fingers lightly trace mindless patterns over my bruised knuckles, and I revel in the tingles shooting up my arm, tingles which have nothing at all to do with the narcotics flowing freely through me. He leans forward to place his lips on a particularly bruised portion of my fist; the moisture from his slightly parted lips heats my skin and tightens my loins in response. Amazing. Even in a drug-induced state Edward makes my blood boil. I shake my increasingly heavy head slowly, keeping my eyes locked on his lips. I want to kiss them, to lick them, to suck them. My thoughts blur, as does my eyesight, as the medication begins to take effect.
"You—you're pretty," I mumble drunkenly.
His grin widens and he responds with, "No, you are."
Rather than argue, I nod my head once and fall into a peaceful abyss, my hand gripped by Edward's, his long fingers rubbing my skin.
O*o*O
I part my eyelids to sunlight pouring into my sterile room, softening the harsh décor. I yawn and stretch, feeling the somewhat lessened pain in my body. I watch microscopic bits of dust float through air, swirling about until Edward snores lightly on a couch-turned-bed beside me, drawing my attention and focus wholly upon him.
The sight of his long frame sprawled out on the cot brings a smile to my face, which is quickly replaced with a frown as I look closer. The sallow tinge to his skin doesn't escape my notice, nor do the purple shadows beneath his lower lashes. He's not taking care of himself, because he's been too anxious with my wellbeing.
All because I acted rash, overconfident, foolhardy. Because I thought I could handle it myself. Because I just can't let go. It's harder than I thought to give myself, my whole self, to someone and trust in that person completely. The logical part of my brain told me to get Edward, to have him call the police, but the remaining vestiges of inner bitch were fighting the restraints I had thought were firmly in place. For the last few months I've turned to him without a second thought, but one look at Jake and all that time was erased. My only thought was to deal with him myself, as though I was the only one who could solve the problem. Obviously, I think wryly, I was wrong. Hence the kidnapping, drugging, pistol whipping…
I sigh, dreading what I know has to be coming, something that hasn't occurred to me until this point. I haven't seen one police officer since I woke last night. I've watched enough Law & Order to know they're probably pacing outside my door, waiting to squeeze every bit of information they can get from me. Yet, miraculously, I've not been interviewed. I'm not really sure I'm ready to relive my time at Mike's cabin. A shiver crawls down my spine as I glare out the window, not seeing anything but a squalid room, bare of much but dust. A cold sweat beads on my forehead.
Suddenly my body is shaking, jolting me out of my reverie.
"Bella? Hey, hello?" Edward's voice thrusts me into realty, pulling me back from the hideous nightmare I will forever be subjected to.
"Yeah, hey, I'm sorry," I reply, still trembling despite the fact his hands are no longer in contact with me. "I guess I was daydreaming."
"I saw the look on your face; that must've been the most disturbing daydream ever dreamed."
"Well, I'm kind of dreading the conversation with the cops. I don't really want to rehash my little…vacation."
"How do you…?"
I cut him off, feeling somewhat perturbed that he would think me so naïve. "Edward, I'm not some ingénue; I'm a smart enough girl to know the police will want to go over every little detail, no matter how little I want to do it."
"I didn't mean to imply-" he starts.
"I know you didn't," I say, brushing off his comment. I know he's worried. "I'm just trying to be a realist." I flap a hand at him. "You may as well bring them in. Let's get this over with."
Apparently he's not satisfied with my interpretation of his words. "Bella, listen to me a second. I was just trying to ask you how you do it. How do you exert this calmness, this sense of control, despite everything you've been through?"
I blush and reply without giving it a second thought. "To me there are only two ways to come out of a tragedy: a victim or a survivor. I made my choice the day I moved into the Black household – I would not be a victim. I would make it out of there a stronger person. Alice helped me achieve that goal in a way I never thought was possible. I refuse to let anyone push me around; that's not who I am…now." I take a deep breath, feeling red flame in my cheeks and I plow on, knowing I won't be able to rest until he knows everything. "Edward, I made a huge mistake in not putting my faith in you. Almost as though you couldn't handle the situation. It's ridiculous, really. How many times have you told me you'll protect me? How many times have you proven exactly just that? It didn't matter. I saw Jacob's face and I just…just lost it. I think I even thought something along the lines of sparing you so you wouldn't have to deal with it, like you'd ever have it any other way." I stare into his eyes, hoping he understands what I'm trying to say, and just in case he doesn't, "I owe you an apology."
Feeling embarrassed by the choking feeling in the back of my throat. I look down, not wanting to show him my tears given my little speech about being strong. Talk about an oxymoron. Jeez.
His strong hands graze my cheeks gently, as though they're the most delicate flower petals, lifting my face to gaze into my eyes. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm just so happy you're alive, even if you do have some things to work on." He winks and presses his lips to mine, which aren't swollen anymore, kissing me with abandon.
I can't deny the stinging pain at the cuts on my cheek, but I'm really too wrapped up in Edward to care. He caresses my lips with the perfect combination of passion and tenderness, until I feel myself trembling once more.
A knock on the door separates us as quickly as guilty adolescents, each of us with a huge smile on our face.
Without waiting for someone to answer, the door swings open, admitting a tall, stern-faced man in a white lab coat. "Hello there, Miss Swan. I'm Dr. Masen." His voice is friendly, and a complete contrast to his looks.
As Dr. Masen breezes into the room, Edward steps back to vacate my bedside, giving him space to flash a small light into my eyes and press his fingertips lightly over my bruised face.
"Well, dear, it appears as though you're healing quite nicely. I'm glad the swelling has gone down, but I'm afraid it will be awhile before your pretty colors fade." He smiles kindly. "Also, as I'm sure you know, there are some gentlemen outside who'd like to speak with you. Will that be alright?"
I nod, keeping my eyes on the tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed man, feeling anxious all over again. "B-b-but only if Edward can stay," I stutter.
Dr. Masen gives me a thoughtful frown. "Well, I don't think that should matter. But I have some test results I'd like to go over with you first, if you don't mind."
"Test results?"
"Yes, and I'm assuming since you'd like your…Edward," he fumbles over the decision to place the wrong title, "to stay for police questioning, it's alright for him to be here for those as well." He looks at me, waiting for my approval, which I give without delay.
"Of course he can," I insist. "I have nothing to hide from him."
"Well, okay then." He smiles and watches Edward walk around the bed to hold my hand. He's been silently moving to my other side during our conversation. "Miss Swan," he starts, "I ran a number of blood tests upon your admittance, testing for different drugs which could have a lasting impact on your health, and while most of those came back as expected, there was one whose results will most definitely have a lasting effect."
Edward's fingers clench mine, and I feel all of the blood drain my face. I whisper, "What is it? What did he do to me?"
The doctor's eyes gauge my reaction curiously and he replies, "You're pregnant."
A/N: Yes, some of you guessed it. Now, let me know what you think of it, if you've got a second or two to spare... ;)
Also, I have a Facebook page now! It's just for fun, you know, if you like that sort of thing. *wink* Feel free to add me! It's: JustineNicole FanFiction - real original, I know.