Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to S. Meyer.

Thanks for all of the reviews you guys! You all totally blew me away with your support. Some of you cracked me up with your wishing for Charlie's demise. I get it, I do.

Let's see what happened…

Living on a Prayer

Chapter 21

Billy quickly helps me up and continues to hold me as I cry. I notice his weather and age worn face is brimming with unshed tears as well. I need him to hold it together though, for me. I need someone to be strong for me right now, as selfish as that sounds. I don't have it in me to be strong, not when I have no clue how my father is doing. I only know that he was in a mining accident. That's enough to send me into a panic though. It's enough for me to know that it could be fatal, most coal mining accidents are. I know the statistics and the outlook is probably not so good for my dad. I just need to see him though. I just need to hear from the doctor that he's going to be okay.

He has to be okay.

He just has too.

Billy opens the door and helps me inside. He reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out some yellow Wendy's napkins and offers them to me as a tissue substitute. I wipe my eyes, but the effort is futile, because the tears continue to fall. I just let them. They burn and blur my vision like pure gasoline. That thought only makes me cry harder, as I'm sure some sort of methane gas was the cause of the explosion.

Once Billy is in, he puts the truck in drive and hastily reverses down the old gravel drive. He reaches for my hand and I let him hold it, let him support me in the only way he can now, because he can't save my Daddy, as much as both of us might want him too and wish he could, he just can't. So, I squeeze his rough warm hand and pray to the only one that can fix him. The only one who can make this situation all better and let me keep my daddy, my only remaining parent.

When that thought hits, the tears fall harder and I'm on the verge of passing out, because I'm now hysterical and hyperventilating.

He's my only parent, he's all I've got in this whole world and I just can't lose him.

I just can't.

Dear God, please, please don't take my daddy too. I need him, so freaking much. I need his warm smile and quiet mind. I need his big comforting arms and his just right words. I need his knowledge and guidance. I need his acceptance of me and my future. I just need him. Please God, please don't take him from me too.

Please, I love you.

In your precious name I pray,

Amen

After my short prayer, I settle a little, the tears still pour from my eyes, but I can breathe, I can think clearer now and I know it's time to ask for the details. I take a deep breath and prepare myself for the worst.

"So, what happened?" My voice is cracky and croaky like a bull frog as I try to speak through my tears.

Billy takes his eyes from the road and glances my way. His kind red rimmed hazel eyes do their best to soothe me, but I see the worry and fear behind them. I'm not naive enough to think my daddy will just walk away from this accident unscathed and get to go home with me tonight. I know it's going to be bad. I just need to know how bad. I need to prepare myself, if one can really prepare themselves for something like this.

Billy sighs and turns his eyes back on the road, knowing that he won't be able to look me in the eyes as he gives me the blow by blow of what happened at the mine today.

His voice is somber, emotionless as he begins to tell me. "It was the damn methane." His voice gets thick, his ability to stay numb, proving to be impossible.

How can someone be numb though, when describing something horrific about their best friend?

I swallow thickly and nod for him to continue. I knew that methane was the likely cause, it typically is. We've been fortunate that it's not happened sooner.

"Anyway, me and the other guys went up top for lunch, but you know Charlie, he just can't stop until he finishes something." He chuckles, but it's without enthusiasm.

I know all too well what he means though. Like father like daughter. I hate starting a project, unless I know I can finish it.

"He was the only one down there, working away. I was mid-bit in my turkey and cheese sandwich, making lame ass jokes with the guys, when we hear it." He stops and I look up to the man that is like my second father.

I know this is hard for him, possibly the hardest thing he's ever had to do. The tears are now flowing freely down his tanned face and he makes no effort to wipe them away.

I give him all of the time he needs, letting more tears fall from my own eyes as well, the salty smell mixing with the timeworn leather and tobacco smell of his old two toned truck.

He composes himself and continues and I hold on tight to his hand and the 'oh shit' handle above my head, trying to remember to breathe.

"They think it was a faulty light he was using. The cord must've been bad on it or something and it created a spark. Damn fool knew better than to go using that light. He damn well knew better."

We're both sad and angry at my dad and it's with my newfound anger that I cling to as we pull into the hospital parking lot and make our way inside. I dry the tears from my face with the back of my sleeve, and then feel the vibration in my pocket.

I ignore my phone, not having time to mess with Kate, or even Edward right now. I have to know that my daddy is alright and once I can see with my own eyes that he is, then-well then I'll thank God and give Daddy a tongue lashing for being so foolish and not double checking all of his equipment beforehand. That was a rooky mistake and my dad is anything but a rookie in the mining industry.

We ask nurse at the front station for information on Dad and she directs us to the family conference room. The room where they send families for the doctor to come in and deliver the bad news. The room where they put you when they don't want you to have a breakdown, screaming, hysterical crying fit in front of all of the other patients and families. The one tiny room that will close up on you when they tell you something horrible has happened to your loved one or even worse, that your loved one is no longer with us, that they did all they could do and they're sorry, so very sorry.

They never look very sorry, well at least not on TV they don't. I've never been in one of these rooms before. With my mother, we knew what to expect and we were right there by her bedside, holding her hand when she went peacefully to be with the Lord.

I've never understood that expression, well always thought it wasn't fair anyway. I mean, the Lord lets them go peacefully, but we the family, are forced to stay here on earth and live in hell for months and years and mourn the loss of our loved ones. Never fully recovering, never fully moving on, and never, ever forgetting them and the state they were in when they left this world…peacefully.

I'm on autopilot as the nurse ushers us into the tiny box of a room, with no window, no cheery curtains or bright paintings. Just a small room with a wooden desk and a few chairs and of course a small blue box of tissues placed in the middle of said desk. They don't try to sugarcoat this room. They know it would be of no use. They know it's the room of doom and gloom, so why try to put up a façade?

Billy is holding my hand as the nurse leaves and we take a seat on the lightly cushioned blue chairs. We don't speak, we barely breathe as we wait for the doctor to take his precious time and come in to tell us the news.

A short while later, the door opens and I stop breathing. I start shaking and I just don't think I'm strong enough to do this a second time. I really don't think I can.

I feel Billy caressing my hand and suddenly I freak out about that and pull it away. There are only two people, two men that I want comfort from and neither are here. One for all I know could be lying dead in this hospital as we speak and the other, well- he doesn't even have a clue what's going on and I just can't deal with this right now. I really need my daddy. I really need to hear him tell me he's fine and that this is all a joke. I need him here to tease me about boys or one boy in particular. I need him to be okay.

I pull my knees to my chest and focus on breathing in and out in order to get through what the doctor is about to tell us.

He walks in with his white coat and red tie, carrying what I'm sure is my dad's file under his arm. His sandy blonde hair and light blue eyes, try their best to seem kind and compassionate, but I know this is just another case to him, just another nobody that got sent to his hospital for him to work on. I bet he doesn't even know his name without looking at his file. I hate doctors, their godlike complexes infuriate me and their mock compassion makes me want to punch them in the face.

I do my breathing exercising again that I learned in years of therapy when I was a younger child. They call it a coping skill, but I just see it as a calm- the crap –down-now –Bella- before- you -get -kicked out-of- the- hospital- without-answers, skill.

He takes his seat and opens his mouth, "Ms. Swan I presume."

He needs to stop presuming and just resume with the information about my father.

I nod my head and bite my tongue in an effort to keep my composure.

He grabs a tissue from the box and offers it to me before he continues. This only heightens my fears, but I take it and start shredding it with my fingers.

"Ms. Swan, your father as you know was in a horrific explosion out at the mine today."

I try not to roll my eyes at him. I wish he would just spit it out already.

I sit up in my seat and cut him off. "Listen, doctor, just tell me is he- is he alive?"

I couldn't say dead, I could not allow those words to slip through my tightly pressed lips, so I chose the lesser of the two evils.

I see Billy lean up in his seat as well, as we wait on baited breath for the doctor to give us a freaking answer.

He leans forward as well and steeples his fingers under his chin. "Yes," He simply says and I let out an audible sigh of relief and let the tears fall once again.

He's alive and for now, for just this second anyway, that's enough.

I wipe away a tear and the doctor offers me another tissue. I don't ask for his name, because I really don't care. My father is alive and everything else is secondary and of non-importance in this moment.

I sniffle and compose myself enough to ask another question. "Can we see him?"

The doctor runs his hand through his hair as he leans back in his big black leather chair. "In just a moment Ms. Swan, but I must warn you, that his injuries are severe and his status is still very much critical. He is stable at the moment."

He's alive, but critical, so I'm not in the clear. I could still be an orphan. But for now, I send up another prayer of thanks and one more plea for God to let me keep him, for now, for forever if possible, because if I'm not nor can be my Daddy's little girl, then who am I and who will I be? I don't even want to contemplate that thought. I just want to see my daddy, that's all I want, to hold his hand and sweep his dark brown hair from his face. To see his silly mustache twitch from trying to hold back a grin at my goofy antics.

I hold up my hand to get the doctor to stop from going into the details. There will be time for that later, now I need to get to my daddy. He needs me and I need him.

"Can, you tell me or Harry all of that later, please. Right now I just want to see him."

He nods his head and makes his way to stand up and usher us out of the room and down the long hallway of patient rooms to door number 203. He stops and tries to warn us once more what to expect and that he's hardly recognizable. He reminds us to keep it quiet to let him rest, let his body try to heal and that he will give us ten minutes with him.

We both nod and I mouth a silent 'thank you' to the doctor as he makes his way out of the room. I turn to face my hero and try to stay strong for him as I scan him from head to toe. His face is black and marred with dirt, coal and ash. His body looks to be severally burned. He looks as if he is one giant white cast and my whole body shivers and aches as I look at the man lying in this bed and trying to find one part of him that is reminiscent of the strong man I know as my father.

This is too much. Nothing, not one thing, could've prepared me for seeing my dad look so frail, so broken, lying in this bed. The only sure way I know it's him is the dark brown mustache on his gas burned face.

I rush to him, trying to find a place to touch that won't possibly hurt him. "Oh Daddy!" I sob. I hold his bandaged hand, my touch feather light, not wanting to hurt his burns. I just look at him and cry, praying for strength to get through this, to be strong for him, in the way he was strong for me when Mama died.

Billy is all but forgotten as he stands stoically by the window and gives me time to be with my father. I know he's concerned for both of us and trying to be strong. I know Daddy would appreciate him taking care of me today.

All too soon the nurse comes in and ushers us out of the room. It's all I can do to tear myself away from him, to leave him lying there without a loved one. I know that he doesn't even know I'm there and I know that he needs his rest and that is the only reason, I allow Billy to lead me from the room. That's as far as I'll go. I won't be leaving this hospital without my dad.

Once we're back in the waiting room and I sit down on the hard floral couch, my phone vibrates again. I pull it out, knowing that I need to let Kate and Edward know what's going on. I'd be surprised if they haven't already heard, it being a small town and all and as they say, good and bad news travels fast.

"I see that I have two new text messages, both from Edward.

Hey my girl. Just wanted to let you know I'm thinking about you and really enjoyed our day today. Can't wait to see you wearing my jersey Friday night.

XO- E

If I didn't feel so emotionally drained right now and so shaken by these last few hours, I might've smiled, but all I can do is flip to the next message instead.

Hey Sweet B, it's been a few hours and I haven't heard from you. You okay? Getting worried.

XO- E

It's clear in that moment that if I can't have one of my guys right now, holding me, I can sure have the other. I call Edward, knowing that I need him here with me, need his comfort; need his hugs and reassurance that this will all be okay.

I hit dial on my phone and wait for him to pick up. It rings only once before his soothing voice answers.

"Hey My Girl, I've been worried. What's going on?" And I lose it, right there on that old ratty floral couch with other families hovering nearby. I cry and beg him to come to me.

"I need you Edward."

I can hear the panic in his voice as he responds, "Where are you?" He doesn't waste time asking what's wrong, he just knows that I need him now, knows that he can ask questions later.

I cry louder into phone and hope that he can understand my choppy words as I tell him I'm at the hospital and make out the words 'my dad and accident.' I just need him to know that it's not me, ease his worry a little bit anyway, though mine is still very much elevated and will continue to be until Charlie goes from critical to just okay. I can deal with just okay, just okay means he'll survive, critical means there is still a chance he won't pull through this and I can't even fathom that.

I hear his deep panic breathes on the other end as he tries to control it and be strong for me. "Okay, Sweet B, I'll be there in five minutes. I'm coming… I'm here for you- always."

I just nod, knowing he can't see me and choke out a thank you before hanging up and clutching my knees to my chest once more as I rock myself and try to hold it together as best I can. Trying not to garner any more worried and empathetic glances my way from the other families suffering in this waiting room as well.

I just hope Edward gets here soon.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was pretty tough to write, having lost my own father (for all intents and purposes) a few years ago to heart failure. I was by his side and I assure you it is anything but peaceful watching a loved one go. If you've been through it, then my thoughts, prayers and hugs go out to you.

Until next time…