EPOV

I do not know if I have zoned out or if I have managed to fall asleep, but the swoosh of the doors snaps me out of whatever state I had lapsed into. Jerking up my head, Emmett enters, pushing a portable bed before him.

I stand immediately, confused, but he recognizes it instantly and puts me at ease. "Nothing to be alarmed about, sir. I am just delivering this"—he motions to the apparatus before him—"under Rose's order."

It is then that I glance around. "Where is Rosalie?"

He waves his hand nonchalantly. "She is gone in seek of more appropriate attire for Bella. She will return shortly."

My brows furrow, but I do not comment. Instead, I stretch my cramped muscles and retake my seat, training my eyes on my mate. She has not moved a muscle, aside from the steady up and down motion of her chest, for which I am exceedingly grateful. My palm caresses her bare arm, perplexed by the contradicting temperatures radiating from her skin. The steady beeps from her monitoring system allow me a brief comfort, yet the ache inside my chest never fails to lessen.

Glancing around, I realize I have missed Emmett's departure, but I am just in time to catch Rosalie's reentrance into the room. Instead of speaking to me, she goes straight to her station and checks all of Bella's stats. My chest squeezes a little tighter with the knowledge that she cares that much for my mate.

Once that is done, she turns to me, her expression glum. "I think we need to situate her better. Change her clothing and make her more comfortable."

My mind wants to reject the idea outright because the suggestion implies she will be lying here longer than I can accept, but the stark reality is, I have no choice. The stab of pain that accompanies that thought is enough to make me double over. Gripping my chest, I lean my forehead on her bedside while I struggle to even out my breathing.

Rosalie's firm hand lands on my shoulder. "Are you all right?" I do not look up, but I nod and continue inhaling deeply. "I promise, Edward. I will cure her."

Another nod is all I am capable of at the moment. Sensing I need time, she leaves me and moves back to her station. I rub my palm over my broken heart in an attempt to soothe the frantic organ. Once the agony becomes bearable, I take one more heavy breath and lift my head, my eyes, once again, falling to my mate's form. A lump forms in my throat, but I swallow it back along with the swell of emotion that wishes to consume me.

"Let us get her comfortable," I say, my voice cracking.

Rosalie simply nods and returns to the bedside, thrusting some clothing items into my hands. "You get her changed, and I will make up the other bed."

I lift my brows and tilt my head to the clear glass that runs along the whole wall facing the corridor. "I will need privacy."

Rosalie nods. "Oh, yes, of course." With a flick of her fingers, the windows and doors fade to a deep black. "There you are. No one can see or enter right now."

I swallow and push my distress away so that I may do what needs to be done. Gingerly, I begin opening the snaps that line her side, and with each new inch of exposed skin, my heart thunders harder and harder. The rash is everywhere in large blobs that mar her creamy skin. I want to wrap my body around her and absorb every drop of toxin from her skin, taking it inside myself and curing my mate from this horrible fate that has befallen her.

Shaking my head, I breathe deeply and push the material from her upper body, exposing more contaminated flesh, shredding my already tattered heart even more. My fingers brush the scorching skin as I uncover the flat expanse of her stomach and slim waist.

Glancing around, I note that Rosalie is focused intently on her task—too intently—but I am appreciative of the privacy she is affording us. Taking the garment she has given me, I hold it up in an attempt to figure out the contraption. It is unlike anything I have ever seen.

"What is this?" I say aloud, not sure who I am asking.

Rosalie looks over, brows puckered. "Oh, I am sorry, sir. It is one of the newly designed sleeping choices. Alice thought it would be more comfortable for Bella."

The silver material feels slick beneath my fingers and hangs in one long form with an opening at the top and bottom, along with holes for the arms and snaps lining the front. "Would you like some help?" she asks, quietly, her voice more reserved than I am accustomed.

I shake my head and bunch the soft material between my fingers, gripping onto it like a lifeline. With steady breaths—because I need to remind myself to breathe—I open the snaps and allow my eyes to trail back to Bella. Lifting one limp arm, I push it through and then lift her incapacitated form to slide it behind her back before moving around and performing the same action with the other.

Leaning over her, I bring the fabric down as far as possible, and with a gentle kiss to her chilled lips, I begin fastening the snaps. One by one, the apparatus closes, hiding the skin that torments my very soul. Once completed, I move to her feet and peel the spacesuit from the rest of her body, pulling it down her legs, allowing her modesty to remain.

Rosalie clears her throat. "Would you like to get her moved now?" She motions to the impeccably made bed that appears much more comfortable than the hard examination table on which she now lies.

With an absent nod, I pick up my mate and carry her imprisoned form to lie among the more plush surroundings. As I go to step back, I lift her head and untwine her hair from its usual tight bun. Rosalie covers her in soft a blanket and leaves me alone with her. The monitors have stuttered with my manipulation of her form, but they now fall back into the same monotone beeps I have heard since last night.

I shake my head. Last night. It was only yesterday that I awoke with Bella's lips running a trail over my bare chest, her tongue peeking out to tease my already sensitive nipples. And now. I sigh deeply. Now, I am here in this vacuum-like state, the life being steadily sucked from us both but in opposing ways.

As Rosalie moves the examination table to the far wall, I grasp Bella's hand between my own, my eyes fixed upon her still beautiful face. "Bella, I do not know if you can hear me, but I am here. I will not leave your side, beautiful." I brush my fingers across her cheek, and I lower my head onto her shoulder.

I do not know how long I maintain this position, but it is Captain's voice, which brings about the lifting of my head. "Edward, why are you not attending to your duties?" he asks, his arms crossed over his chest.

My muscles tense at both his question and the tone with which he delivered it. Clamping my jaw shut so that I do not lose control, I stand swiftly, my seat knocking back from the force. My eyes are narrowed, and my fists are clenched tightly at my side.

He takes in my aggressive manner and lifts what he assumes is an imposing brow before glancing at Rosalie, who is frozen at her station, staring between the two of us. "Could you give us some privacy, Rosalie?" His voice is calm and indifferent.

"Y-yes, sir," she stutters, unaccustomed to being ordered by the captain himself, and in her own space no less.

"Stay." My voice is hard and cold as I deliver the command, but it is a command.

"Ed— "

"Do not," I snap, the first words I have spoken directly to him. "You will not come here and ask the one person who cares whether my mate lives or dies to leave the room."

His eyes finally trail over to Bella, taking in her form as she lies lifeless upon the bed. When they flick back to me, he gives a small nod. "Understood," he says tersely. "Since she is so well cared for, I assume you will have no issue returning to task."

I cannot help myself; my jaw falls open, and my face screws up in pure disbelief. "Returning to task," I repeat out of sheer incredulity, unable to come to terms with his thought process.

"Yes, son," he says, his tone lighter as he caught me so off guard that my stance softened. He even adds a light chuckle. "Once your day is done, you are welcome to come back for a visit."

Both of my hands slide into my head, and I grip furiously as I process his asinine suggestion. I spin my body in an attempt to come to terms with what he is saying, and my eyes meet those of Rosalie, whose are wide and uncertain.

That does it. All of my tension resurfaces and I draw up to my full height, facing Captain and taking two steps in his direction. "Do you not care?" I all but scream into the enclosed space. "Have you so little concern for your people that you would leave her, my mate,"—I pound my fist into my chest—"alone in her hours of torment!"

His eyes widen and scan to the clear, glass windows beside us. "Edward, you are making a scene," he admonishes lowly, in an attempt to have me act calm and rationally. However, all rationale is long gone from my system.

"Let them stare," I explode, cutting my angry eyes to the faces who dare peer back at me. "I do not care about a scene! I care about Bella! She is all that matters to me, and you would see her die without me at her side as long as duty is being fulfilled."

I am overcome with an anger like nothing I have previously felt. My limbs are trembling as the emotion moves through my body, pent up and contained inside, wishing to explode on the one who evokes it so tremendously.

Instead of understanding, I receive scorn. "Edward, she is only your mate. Your duty to your people is paramount, nothing is more important."

"That is where you are wrong, Captain," I sneer, taking one more step in his direction. "She is everything to me. Without her by my side, I will be unfit to lead."

He raises his hand, rubbing it across his forehead and chuckles once before his amused eyes scrutinize me. Finally, he shakes his head, and his lips quirk up in the corners. "You have let your member dictate your actions today, so I will overlook your outburst … this time, but your insolence will not be tolerated."

I take one more step, and we are now nose-to-nose. "I do not speak through my member. I speak through my heart. It is lying on that bed over there, and if she does not recover, neither will it." I grasp his shoulder firmly and give him a small shake. "Do you not see? I love her, father. I love her!"

A trail of wetness leaks from my eyes and makes its way down my cheeks. I pull back and gasp.

Tears.

I am crying for my love, broken before him, and if he cannot see after this, he will never. I move back to my seat and drop down, defeated, retaking her hand, bringing it to my lips.

He says nothing more, and I do not hear him depart, but the next time I look up, he is gone.

Some time later—I am not sure how long—the quiet murmur of voices brings me from my stupor, and I peer around the room. Emmett has joined us again, and he has brought Rosalie something to eat. I am thankful he is looking out for her because I am not in the frame of mind to think of her needs above my own—well, Bella's.

When he catches me staring, he moves to stand before me. "Sir, I have brought you a meal." He waves to a tray of food sitting on a cart, then brings his free hand up and extends something to me. "I also found this at the tree-like structure and thought you might want it." At my furrowed brows, he asks, "It is Bella's, is it not?"

I give an absent nod and slowly extend my hand, taking Amelia's journal from him. I crush it to my chest and hold it tightly to me. It is a piece of her, one she uses to find solace. The wetness rushes to my eyes in the form of a stinging sensation, but I push it back again, unable to allow myself to break down.

"Thank you, Emmett," I finally say, though my voice is scratchy from the hours since its use.

He waves me off. "Not a problem, sir. I found it this morning when I returned to do a more thorough search in the light of the suns."

His words comfort me in an unexpected way. He, too, cares for my mate. He cares whether she lives or dies, he understands my need to be by her side which is more than I can say for my own father. Disappointment settles inside me, so profound it almost overpowers my agony for a short period of time.

I take a steadying breath. "Were you able to find anything further?"

His head tilts downward, giving me all the answer I need. "No, sir." His sorrow-filled eyes meet mine. "No species contained the color red, but I still brought the few we found in for testing. I awaited the results personally, and there were no toxins present."

I nod along with his words, for I know in my heart he scoured that ground last night, but I cannot help but feel even more appreciative that he made one more effort. I stand and lay my hand on his shoulder. "I know you have done everything you can, Emmett, and I cannot express my gratitude in enough ways"—I cut my eyes to Rosalie—"to either of you."

"Edward," Emmett says in an unexpected soft tone, bringing my eyes back to his. "We love Bella, too, and will do anything for her."

I cannot help it, the words cause a chasm to open up inside, and I break. My chin falls to my chest and deep, wracking sobs escape my lips as fat tears run unbidden down my cheeks. Strong arms encase me while I allow all my pent up grief, anger and resentment to leak from my system.

I do not know the length of my breakdown, I only know that my friend is here, and he is holding me up, offering me a comfort I have never been privy to aside from that of my mate. Soon, I feel a softer presence and realize that Rosalie has joined us, wrapping a soothing arm around each of us as she sheds her own silent tears.

With quiet sniffles, I rein myself in but stay close for a moment longer, absorbing the comfort, because I know what awaits me outside this bubble. I will be back at Bella's side with all of my agonies once again in the forefront. For one more minute, I allow myself this reprieve, the time to give in and be weak.

Slowly, I pull myself away and take a step back, wiping my hand across my face to dry the wetness. I clear my throat. "I am so— "

"Stop it," Emmett cuts me off, his voice stern but soft. "I believe my mate and I needed that as much as you did." He wipes his hand down his cheeks that I now notice have their own wetness.

I can only nod and take another step back, ready to return to my mate's side. "Not so fast, sir. You need to eat," Emmett says, pointing to the tray of unappealing food he brought.

"I am unsure if I am capable of eating," I respond with a shrug. "The very idea of food makes my stomach knot up."

"Please, try, sir." The tone is which he delivers his request makes it impossible for me to deny, so I bob my head and turn to retake my seat while he rolls the cart closer.

The next while is spent with me mostly pushing my salad around my plate between three or four bites that clog in my throat, and Emmett being a much more subdued version of himself. Once he has left, things return to the same way they have been. The monitors provide the background noise while Rosalie and I stay lost inside our own tasks. Hers, monitoring and doctoring; mine, begging and pleading for anything that will make my mate open her beautiful eyes and grant me a smile.

"Edward." Rosalie's soft voice interrupts my thoughts. "Do you see these lines?" She points out a row on the monitor that has an unusual pattern; non-specific like the others that remain a steady rhythm. At my nod, she continues, "These are her brain waves. Her mind is very active."

"That is a good sign," I say, hopefully.

She grants me a smile and nods. "Yes, but, I have better news." She picks up a contraption that almost looks like a helmet and holds it out for me to take. "Put this on your head and allow the screen to be in front of your eyes."

My brows draw down in the center, but I still do as she requests. There is a clear glass arcing over my face. I watch as she takes two tiny probes and lines them at my mate's temples before looking at me with an even bigger smile.

"Do not be afraid. These are only images from her mind. They can be dreams, reality or anywhere in between, so please, do not allow them to negatively affect you. I thought they would bring you a sense of solace; enable you to feel closer to her," she explains as she walks back to her station and clicks a few keys on her TwiPuter.

I gasp as the clear screen darkens and an image appears. Tears immediately rush to my eyes as I see my mate before me. She is healthy and smiling, strolling on my elbow, as together, we make our way to her favorite spot. Our mouths are moving, but I cannot hear the words, yet my whole being sighs in relief. It gives me hope that this very scene is in our future.

I am transfixed as scene after scene plays out before me. Some are memories between us and cause heat to rise upon my cheeks, and others, bring about the sting in my eyes. One unusual scene flashes by so fast that I am unable to make sense of it, but then, the most breathtaking scene of all plays out before me.

My mate's midsection is swollen with child, and then, we're suddenly in a room similar to now, only Bella is alert, and I am at her side as she struggles to push our baby into this world. Rosalie stands between her spread thighs, her appearance encouraging before a blinding smile graces her lips, and she lifts a tiny, pink bundle into the air.

My breathing has escalated a noticeable degree, and I have to work to calm it as the scene switches, and this time, I pay close attention when the same image flits before my eyes. Every muscle in me seizes momentarily before I yank the contraption from my face.

"Rosalie," I snap, unable to control the hysteria in my voice. "Please tell me you were recording the images!" I am frantic. Afraid for what I saw, and silently, begging that it not be true.

Her eyes widen at my urgency, but she jumps into action as her fingers fumble with the keys before her. "I did not set record, but the system will automatically store the information for a short period of time. Is something wrong?"

"Play the last ten seconds," I demand, taking even breaths to calm my overwrought emotions.

She nods rapidly, and with a few more clicks, the monitors change, and they are showing the birthing scene again. I watch carefully, jaw clenched tight, afraid for my fears being brought into reality. Just as the tiny, pink bundle is lifted, the scene changes.

Bella is under her tree, the journal in her hand. She suddenly jumps and sits it to the side. There are only two more images left to play. In the first, Blue swoops down from his perch and pecks her calf. In the last, my mate collapses.

Bella has been poisoned by her pet.