37

Bella's entire body ached as she slipped out of bed, but her legs were too weak to hold her up. She slid to the floor and crawled across the room until she found herself in front of Edward's desk. Throwing her hand on top, she desperately felt around for her iPod, finally finding it next to his laptop. Her hands shook as she shifted so that she was leaning against the desk, being extra careful not to pull on the tubing coming out of her body.

Her father had haunted her dreams. His pleas for her to come to him, to save him from the darkness had her waking up with silent screams. Stuffing her earbuds in her ears, Bella pulled her knees up in front of her and rested her head on top all while fighting the tears that burned in her eyes as she watched Edward sleep and ignored her father's voice.

And while trying to lose herself to the music, she tried to remember a time when she wasn't the girl with cancer, the girl who was pathetic and needy. She hated all of it: the tubing, the pump, the constant queasiness, the overwhelming exhaustion, the unbearable pain, but mostly, the way Edward felt helpless and weak. He was anything but weak. Over and over, he went through hell, struggled to keep his hold on life. Bella only wished she could be as strong as he was, as brave, as beautiful, but she wasn't any of those things. He wasn't the one who needed someone to pull her hair back while she retched over the toilet over and over, to soothe away the tears she was unable to keep from falling. Edward wasn't the weak one, Bella was and she hated that he hurt because of her.

She'd been sitting on the floor for almost an hour when Edward began to stir. He reached across the bed for her, his face crumbling as he came up empty, which only added to the ache in her heart. He deserved better than a wife like her: one that wasn't sick, one that wasn't selfish. Sitting up, his hand automatically came to rest against his chest, and he looked over at her.

"What are you doing on the floor?" he asked.

Bella shrugged her shoulders and held up her iPod.

"Who are you listening to?"

Biting her lip, Bella paused the song and pulled the earbuds out of her ears and offered it to him. Slowly, Edward climbed out of bed and walked over to her. Before she could protest, he sat down on the floor next to her. She wanted to argue with him, insist that he wasn't strong enough to sit on the floor yet, but she couldn't. Not just because she didn't have a voice, but because she needed him next to her, so instead she shifted her body so that she was facing him.

Edward slipped the iPod out of her hand and placed one of the buds in his ear, turning the song back on. Bella watched his face, waiting for some kind of reaction, something that would give her any indication about how he felt while listening to the melody pouring out of the tiny speakers. After a few minutes, he smiled and looked over at her. "I like her. She has a . . . smooth, silky voice. What's her name?"

Bella felt her cheeks warms as she brought her hand up and patted her chest three times.

His eyes widened. "This is you?"

She nodded.

"But . . . how?" he stammered. "You never told me you recorded anything."

Bella shook her head and brought her hands up, slowly spelling out, "J.A.S.P.E.R."

"Jasper recorded you?" he asked.

She nodded.

Edward slipped his hand over hers, bringing her fingers up to his lips. "You have an incredible voice."

Bella grimaced and shook her head.

"You do," he insisted. "It's . . . very emotional." He paused. "Nights were always the hardest," he murmured, shifting his attention back to her. "I . . . I spent a lot of time alone, and at night, I sometimes got scared because there was always so much noise. Alarms and beeping, and . . ." Edward swallowed thickly. "It didn't take long before I learned the lingo. Code blue, code black, and, um, it seemed like nighttime was worse than the day. I never told my mom or dad how scary it was because I knew it was hard for them to leave me there, but they had work and Pix and Car, and I didn't want to make it worse, you know?"

Bella nodded.

"So, anyway, when my tenth birthday came around, Car snuck in one night after visiting hours, and he tossed a present on my bed. When I asked him what it was, he laughed and said it would make the nights easier." He paused and smiled. "He gave me an iPod filled with music. I must have cost him a ton, but when I asked him why he gave it to me, he said . . . he said," Edward whimpered, "whenever I found myself scared, that I could listen to the music and he'd be there with me." A tear slipped down Edward's cheek, but he didn't attempt to wipe it away. "And when I would hear the alarms going off on the floor, or hear the nurses calling for the code team, I . . . I'd listen to the music. I guess it was Car's way of taking care of me."

Bella laid her head on his shoulder, placing the palm of her hand over his incision. She felt him sigh, felt his chest rise and fall as he breathed, and for a moment, a brief and fleeting moment, she wondered what their lives would be like if they hadn't been dealt the hands they were. If Edward hadn't been the boy with the broken heart, would they have met? Or if a fire hadn't claimed her parents, would her first tumor have been found, or it would it have robbed her of more than just her voice? Too many 'what if's' and none of them were pleasant. Just the thought of a life without Edward had her weeping inwardly.

"Butterbean, Edward, are you two awake?" Esme called, knocking on their bedroom door.

Bella rolled her eyes as Edward said, "Yes."

"Your appointment is in an hour, Butterbean," Esme said.

Sighing, Bella scrambled to her feet and stumbled to the door, pulling it open. Esme was standing with one hand on the frame. Once again, she was wearing one of Carlisle's T-shirts, but at least she had on her own pajama pants. Bringing her hands up in front of her, Bella signed, "Yes, I know. I don't need you constantly reminding me of every appointment."

A look of hurt sprang up on Esme's face, and Bella felt horrible, but before she could apologize, her sister simply nodded, turned away, and walked away. Bella closed the door and looked over at Edward, who was trying to push himself up off the floor. She rushed over to him, but when she reached for his arm, he pulled away.

Edward looked up at her. "You're not strong enough. Get my brother."

Bobbing her head up and down, Bella tried to hide the hurt as she turned and walked out of their bedroom. She should be able to help him when he needed. She was his wife, yet she was too weak to be there, too pathetic. Life wasn't fair.

Stopping outside of Carlisle's bedroom, she knocked softly. A moment later, the door opened and she found herself face to face with Carlisle. "Hey."

Bella grabbed his arm and pointed to their bedroom.

"Edward needs me?" he asked, and Bella nodded. "All right."

Carlisle walked past her and down the hallway to their room, and Bella looked over at Esme, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her with sad eyes. Bringing her hand up in front of her chest, Bella gave the sign for sorry.

"It's fine, Butterbean," Esme said, giving her a fake smile. "I know I'm overbearing."

She shook her head frantically.

"No, I am," she insisted and stood up. "I just . . ."

"You what?" Bella signed.

"I feel so helpless," Esme whimpered, wrapping her arms around her torso. "I want to make everything better for you, easier, but I can't. I can't do anything, and I fucking hate it!"

Bella gasped. Esme wasn't one to use foul language, and seeing her so emotional had tears burning her eyes.

"Mom would know what to do, how to make all of this better for you," she cried. "And Dad would . . . Well, he would tell Mom to stop nagging you all the time," she added, with a chuckle before she sighed. "I know you're annoyed with me, but I need to be here. For you, for Edward, but mostly for Carlisle." Her cheeks turned bright pink as she shifted her dark brown eyes to Bella. "I love him."

Her mouth flopped open.

"I know it seems so . . . fast," she said, reaching for Bella, who immediately walked over to Esme, wrapping her fingers around her sisters. They sat down on the side of the bed. "I've felt so . . . alone. Em has Rose, and you had Jas and now Edward, and I was just there. I tried to be strong, Butterbean, but there wasn't anyone there for me."

Bella frowned.

"Oh, please understand," Esme pleaded, pulling on her hands. "I know you did the best you could, and you were going through more than just losing Mom and Dad. I didn't want to be a burden to you, or to Em, so I did what I had to make sure that we were okay. My appointments helped. Gave me someone to talk to at least, but I came home every night and found myself in bed alone, and I just wanted someone who loved me, someone to hold me and tell me it was okay to be angry and to cry. I get that with him. He . . . he makes me feel special. I've never felt such a strong bond with someone the way I do with him. It's like . . .like he's my . . ."

Bella tugged her hands out from Esme's and pinched her index finger and thumbs on each hand together, waved her right hand in a circle, and pulled it upward. Then, she clenched her hands into fists and pressed them together, causing Esme to smile.

"Yes, yes, Butterbean, he's my soul mate," she murmured.

Bella slipped her hand over Esme's. She was glad her sister had found Carlisle, found someone who made her happy. A cleared throat drew her attention to the doorway, and when she looked over her shoulder, she saw Carlisle leaning against the doorframe, a cheeky grin on his face and red tinting his skin.

"Edward's in the shower," he murmured.

Bella nodded and stood up, turning back to Esme. Trying her best to smile, she brought her hand up to Esme's face, gently stroking her cheek. She wished she could tell her how much she loved Esme, how much she needed her sister, but she couldn't, not like this. So instead, she hoped that she'd live long enough to watch her sister get married, to have babies, to live a life where she didn't feel responsible for everyone.

With tears filling her eyes, Bella wrapped her arms around her torso and walked out of their room, pausing in the doorway when Carlisle placed his hand on her shoulder. As she tilted her head up, a tear slipped down her cheek. He didn't say anything as he reached over and wiped it away, and for that Bella was grateful. It was hard enough being the pathetic and weak wife of his younger brother, she didn't want his pity, too.

—SW—

"Bella." At the sound of her name, she shifted her attention to the doorway. She was curled up on a small sofa, her body trembling and shaking, her nerves on edge, and her heart heavy with fear. Once again she'd found herself lying on a hard table while beams of radiation were seared into her. Her throat hurt, her skin was red and blistered.

"Sweetheart," Phil murmured, walking over to her and kneeling next to the sofa. Edward had her head on his lap, his hand slowly rubbing her arm, doing what he could to make her feel better. Nothing helped, nothing made eased the ache. "Sweetheart, can you sit up?"

Bella shook her head, but pushed herself up so that she was sitting upright. Immediately, Edward had his arm around her, doing what he could to hold her up.

"I need to take a blood sample. Check your platelets, and white blood cells," he murmured, gently reaching for her arm. As his hand wrapped around her wrist and lifted her arm up, Bella noticed a tear slide down his face. She brought her other hand to his face, carefully brushing the moisture away. "I'm sorry."

Once again, she shook her head. There wasn't a reason for Phil to be sorry. He'd always done everything he could to make life easier for them, to be the uncle they deserved. Bella knew his feelings for her father were one-sided, that losing Charlie to Renee had been gut-wrenching for Phil, but he never let it keep him down.

Sliding her hand to his chin, she tilted her head up and back. Then, tugging her wrist out of his grip, she began to sign. "He loved you. You know that, don't you?"

Phil nodded after Esme interpreted for her so that Carlisle and Edward would know what she was saying. "But not like I loved him."

"No, not like you did, but you were his family, too," she gestured.

His chin quivered. "It's not fair, you know? To have sat on the sideline and watched him live a life I could never really be a part of, and then to lose him so cruelly."

Bella nodded, because it was cruel. Charlie had been the glue that kept their family together, the one who never raised his voice when he was upset with one of his children. He was a kind and loving father, and the love he had for her mother rivaled the way Bella felt for Edward. They were not only lovers, but best friends, soul mates, and now they were stuck in hell. And Phil had loved Charlie, loved him enough to put a smile on his face and pretend that it didn't rip his heart apart when he watched Charlie love Renee. It wasn't fair, but nothing they were going through was fair.

"I shouldn't be blabbering on like this," Phil murmured and reached for her wrist. "You're dealing with enough without adding my bullshit to the list."

"You're family," Edward said, causing Bella and Phil to look over at him. "I mean, you're here, right? For her, for . . . for all of us?"

Phil nodded.

"Then that makes you family and, um, you can never have too much family, right?" There was a pleading tone to Edward's voice, one that Bella longed to soothe with whispered promises. But she couldn't, no matter how much she wanted to.

"I suppose it does," he mumbled, and then cleared his throat. "Well, let's get a blood sample, and then you can go home, get some rest. You haven't been sleeping much, have you?"

Bella shook her head, once again thinking about the way her father had crept into her dreams.

"I didn't think so," he replied. "Only a couple more weeks, hopefully, and then we can move forward with the implant."

Bella frowned because there would never be such a thing as moving forward, not for her. She would always be the girl with cancer, and even if she got her voice back, that wouldn't change. She'd always be afraid when her throat hurt, when her voice became rough. Every check-up, every test, every day, she would wonder if there was mass of cancer cells trying to rob her of a life with Edward, and that thought alone had her grieving. Would they ever get to be happy? Really, truly happy?

Nobody else said anything as Phil filled several vials with her blood. He kissed her forehead before he reminded Edward, Esme, and Carlisle to call if they needed him. They would always need him, whether to treat her cancer or be their honorary uncle, they would always need Phil. Edward stood up and attempted to help Bella to her feet, but when he winced and grabbed at his chest, Esme placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Let me," she said, and when he grimaced, she added, "Just let me get her to her feet, and then you can hold her. Please? Let me do this for both of you."

"Okay," he whispered, and though Bella knew it was excruciatingly hard for him, he stepped back and let Esme wrap her arms around Bella, hoisting her up.

In an instant, Edward was by her side, his arms taking the spot where Esme's had just been. Bella grabbed at his hand as it rested on her hip, the other reaching up and grabbing at the front of his shirt. Slowly, ever so slowly, they walked out of the small room, down the hallway to the elevator. However, when they stepped inside, Bella reached over and pressed the button for the fifth floor.

"Butterbean," Esme whimpered. "No."

She nodded and brought her hands up. "I need to see them, Esme. Please, I need to see them!"

"But last time . . . Mom . . . she . . ." Esme paused. "She's dangerous."

"I need to see Momma and Daddy," Bella signed. "I can't explain why, but I need to."

Sighing, Esme nodded. Though Bella knew she didn't think this was a good idea, and it probably wasn't, Bella couldn't ignore the pull she felt toward them. Her life had changed so much over the last few weeks. She'd gotten married, started her treatments, and now, she needed something more, something she couldn't explain.

When they walked onto the floor, all the nurses at the front desk stopped and looked at them, however it was Kate who made the effort to come to them.

"Hey, honey, are you feeling?" she asked.

Bella shrugged her shoulders. Biting her bottom lip, her hands shook as she brought them up in front of her. "How are they?"

It might have been her imagination, but it seemed that Kate tensed just split second before she smiled. "Um, well, you're mom is in the craft room. She's not having a good day, and it helps to keep her focused on an activity."

"And Daddy?" Esme asked.

"The same," Kate replied with a frown. "Always the same."

Bella nodded and then led Edward down to her father's room. Like he always was, Charlie was sitting in front of his window. A blanket covered his legs and he had a dark, blue robe that was frazzled around the edges. Bella walked over to his chair, kneeling in front of him. His dark eyes were locked on the window, and when she grabbed his hand, she wanted his fingers to wrap around hers, for him to cradle her against his chest, and promise that everything was going to be okay, but he didn't. So, instead, Bella placed his palm on her cheek and laid her head on his knees. Tears flooded her eyes, spilling done her face, and though she cried, her father didn't react, never reacted.

Bella wasn't sure how long she'd sat there when she heard it: the sound of her mother's voice echoing down the hallway. Sliding out from under her father's hand, Bella scrambled to her feet and started to walk to Edward, but when a hand reached out and grabbed her arm, she froze.

She froze because Edward, Carlisle, and Esme were standing on the other side of Charlie's bed. The only person within range of being able to grab at her was her father. And with tears once again flooding her eyes, she turned her head to her right and looked down. Not only was his hand wrapped around her wrist, but his head was tilted back and his eyes were locked on her.

Thank you for all the reviews.