A/N

The girls on Facebook ganged up on me. It worked.

Enjoy!

Everything feels and sounds muted, like I'm underwater.

I don't hear the rest of what Emmett has to say. I drop the phone and tell Rose to drive to the hospital.

The next thirty minutes are a blur.

Rose asks no questions, the silence stretching thick between us, nerves and anxiousness a blanket over the car, wrapping my heart tightly in its grasp, squeezing the life from me.

I try not to think of what awaits me. I can't go there, I can't … lose him.

I don't remember the walk from the car to the hospital, spotting Esme and Emmett as soon as I arrive. They stand, Esme rushes over, tears a heavy river down her beautiful, kind face. I can't speak, I can't think … the lights feel too bright, the atmosphere suffocating.

"Where is he?" I manage to choke, trying to stay standing as Esme holds my upper arms tight.

"He's in surgery," she tells me, her voice agonised, her breaths ragged as she tries to hold her emotion at bay.

"What … What happened?" My eyes find Emmett as he approaches, his Massive frame engulfing me as he wraps me in his arms and guides me a seating area.

"He … got into some trouble in Port Angeles. Him and Jacob. He was … stabbed."

I sob, loud, like a bark; throwing my head into my hands. I feel my heart break, I feel the crack tear through the muscle, my body convulsing.

"You told me it was an accident."

Emmett wraps me in his arms. "I didn't know what else to say over the phone."

I have one hundred questions, but I can't find my voice. Why? When? How bad is it? Is he going to die? What was he doing?

I pray and pray that he's an innocent party in a random attack, but then I remember the way he left, the anger, the hurt … I want to ask, but I can't. Instead I chant in my head, please let him be okay.

Every second that passes feels like an hour. I watch the clock, but I think it's broken. The low murmur of voices is deafening, a hum that reverberates through my body and settles under my feet.

Time stills, it means nothing now.

And then Carlisle appears, looking older and dishevelled, his hands full of cups of cafeteria coffee.

We all watch him approach, silently begging for answers we know he doesn't have.

He can't operate on a family member, he's in the darkness, just like the rest of us.