I woke up just as the sun was rising the next morning. I listened quietly as the beeps of the heart monitor gradually became more frequent – alerting the change in my heart.

Edward was checking one of the machines but turned to look at me when he heard the monitor. "Good morning, Rosalie." He murmured softly.

I smiled at him, knowing he wouldn't miss the quiver in my weak smile. I felt terrible.

He approached me quietly, gently shifting the tubes that had tangled across the bed and over my body. "How are you feeling?"

I shook my head at him softly, informing him I didn't feel well enough to talk.

He sighed gently and unwound the stethoscope from around his neck. "May I?" he asked.

I nodded; closing my eyes for a few minutes as he thoroughly examined my chest and lungs. I didn't feel so bad, just tingly and weak. My eyes were throbbing, and my head felt a thousand times heavier than it normally did.

Edward examined me a further while more, but then announced he had to leave and that he would be back later.

I hardly paid attention to anything that was happening around me. People came in and out of my room in a gentle blur, the room was quiet apart from the beeping of the monitors and I kept my eyes firmly closed.

However, after what seemed like hours, the door slowly clicked open again, and my eyes opened on impulse. I wasn't feeling so dizzy anymore.

A tall, looming figure stepped into the shadows and my breathing hitched for a second before he stepped out into the room.

Standing at about 6'5", Emmett was definitely taller than Carlisle and Edward, positively towering over Alice by nearly two feet. His strength gave him a rather filled out form, but I didn't really see him as being overweight, just muscular. He was very handsome with smiling dimples and slightly curly, dark brown hair that almost looked black in the shadows of my room, giving him a childish look not often seen in a grown man such as him.

As he sat down in one of the chairs to the side of the bed with a graceful motion that seemed impossible for someone of his size and muscle, he smiled at me softly, the light reflecting in his clear, glass blue eyes. "Hello, Rosalie." His voice was deep but soft; very soothing.

"What are you doing here?" I rasped softly, noticing that he had changed out of his bright uniform, wearing a simple gray sweater that clung to his muscles and faded black pants. He looked beautiful.

He grinned, the dimples tugging at his pale lips. "Carlisle insisted that I come keep you company since he and Edward have work to do, and your family are busy for the meantime." He cast a small look at the blood that was steadily dripping into my arm. He pointed at it with his thumb and gave me a lopsided smile. "Also seems like you and I have the same blood type. It seems to come in handy considering the circumstances of your condition right now."

"You're giving me blood?" I asked, looking at the tubes with slight fascination.

He shrugged. "I gave blood last night, and some more this morning. I always donate, obviously under the rules and regulations and whatnot. Don't worry, you'll be fine."

I smiled softly; he didn't even know me and he was willing to give me his blood.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, before he sat back and took on a serious expression. "I know that it's none of my business…but you did that to yourself?" He nodded towards the bandage on my wrist. Of course he knew I did it to myself – he was an EMT.

I swallowed back the lump in my throat and nodded. "Yeah, I'm crazy, I know."

He smiled sadly. "You're not crazy, you're hurting. There's a difference."

I studied him for a few seconds, waiting for him to laugh and call me a freak, but he didn't. He was absolutely serious. He didn't think I was crazy. "I guess you could say that." I whispered.

He leaned forward, leaning on his knees. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Rosalie. We all have feelings, we all get hurt sometimes, unfortunately some more than others. It's okay not to be okay. I've seen so many cases of self-injury and attempted suicide in the years I've worked, and it's not very long."

I nodded mutely. "Must be hard for you."

He shook his head. "No, not hard, upsetting mostly. Pretty girls like you shouldn't cut."

When I wouldn't look at him, he reached forward, and with a surprisingly gentle touch, lifted my chin to look at him. "You're hurting." He stated quietly.

I nodded, trying to stop the tears that were ready to fall from my eyes. "Yes, but I can't talk to you about it. You're a paramedic."

He laughed; a genuine, beautiful, bell-like laugh. "Yup, I'm a paramedic. It's that whole patient mixing policy right? Well…I'm pretty sure I'm not working right now." He winked at me, causing a small laugh to escape my lips. He only grinned wider.

"You wouldn't understand." I whispered inaudibly, the shakiness in my voice giving away my emotions. "No one can understand the way my mind works, what I see, what I hear, or what I feel. At least not yet…I'm not…I'm not brave enough."

He rose from the chair slowly, with an ease that brought Goosebumps to my skin. In the same slow motion, he bent down slightly to come to level with my face, and leaned on the metal bars of the bed. "Try me, Rosalie." His eyes were wide, open, sincere windows, leading directly to his innocent, beautiful soul. "From what I see, you're a very brave young woman. One day, I'll understand."

The breath caught in my throat and he eased me back down to rest my head on the pillow since I'd sat up to look at him. As he grinned, a few of his curls drooped down into his eyes.

"I'm not the most emotional person, but I know when someone needs me, and when they don't know how to live anymore. I know exactly how it feels to feel so low…" As he walked towards the door, signaling our time was over, he stared at me for a few seconds. "Get some rest, Rosalie." There was sadness in his eyes.

"You'll come back?" I asked weakly, sounding seriously desperate. I wanted him, I realized with a sudden jolt. I wanted him to hug me, to soothe me. I wanted to tell him everything about my messed up mind, about them.

He smiled; the light returning to his eyes. "Tomorrow." He promised, before he slipped into the shadows of the hall.