Why did you leave me here to burn?

I'm way too young to be this hurt

~ Camila Cabello, I Have Questions

BPOV

My mind was fuzzy.

It wasn't the kind of fuzzy that resulted from a kiss that took your breath away or an orgasm that was so earth shattering it took you a few minutes to be able to think coherently again afterwards. Those were good fuzzies. Fuzzies that ended you up in the safe, warm embrace of the one you loved.

This was not good. This was a cloudiness that I couldn't escape. A fog that kept me lost in my own head because I was trying desperately not to remember a large chunk of time. It was a haziness I was afraid to escape. I knew my own mind well and if something was trying to keep me from thinking, it was usually best to let it win.

Of course, the figurative smoke clouding my mind could have also been the concussion or copious amount of pain pills I was on. That didn't mean I hadn't subconsciously repressed some details of the last forty-eight hours I didn't trust myself to face.

Which was why I couldn't let myself succumb to the exhaustion that was threatening to take over. I wouldn't be able to keep all of those memories locked up if I fell asleep. So, instead, I focused on Edward.

He had been quick to fall asleep, which I knew meant he had already been dead on his feet for hours. He never let it show. Didn't even seem to think about going home to get a few hours of comfortable rest as the sun started to set.

The only tiny moments of peace I experienced throughout the day were with him. A squeeze of his hand or a second as small as his eyes meeting mine calmed the undercurrent of anxiety that had taken up residence in my veins. When he wasn't around, or I was too distracted to focus on him, an all too familiar insecurity settled in my bones. A fear of every shadow and corner that I hadn't felt since the day I moved to Los Angeles.

I hated it. That fear. I had lived with it for ten years and it was supposed to be gone. Now, I was stuck in a hospital bed and hooked up to a dozen machines that let everyone in the room know my heartrate picked up whenever the door opened. There were too many people around, too many eyes on me and questions hurdled at me that I either didn't know the answer to or didn't want to think about.

I concentrated on the way the lights from the various machines in the room cast shadows across his face. How, even in his sleep, his hand had mine in a tight grip. A days' worth of stubble was lining his chin and he had dark circles underneath his eyes that I knew were my fault.

A knot of guilt settled in my stomach.

"You have every right to be angry and sad and upset, but you… you do not need to apologize. Do you understand?"

That was what he told me earlier. I nodded and told him I did. I even repeated the sentiment to myself throughout the day in an attempt to get it through my head.

I didn't understand, though. I didn't understand why no one was mad at me for ending up in the hospital or why everyone showed up in the first place. Even now, after a day of being surrounded by everyone's kind smiles and thoughtful gestures, I just didn't understand.

Rosalie was always hovering around, Emmett close behind, sometimes shoving a book in my face about the science behind a hip replacement. Carlisle and Esme tried their best not to hover, but I could usually find them out of the corner of my eye. They always looked on edge, like they were trying to hold themselves back from doing to saying something. Alice never showed up without her arms full of bags. Whether it was clothing or flowers or balloons, she didn't seem to stop filling the hospital room with things to make it feel less like a hospital room. Masen and Lucy seemed a little unsure about what to do, and had taken to buying everything. A habit they had probably picked up from their aunt. Masen had gotten me a handheld gaming system and set me up on some island with little animal friends. Lucy had gotten me a smart watch so I could call her if I needed anything and didn't have my phone close enough.

I had been in the hospital plenty of times before. I knew how it was supposed to go. Any kind of injury I had sustained while living with my mother frustrated her. She would moan and groan on the drive to the emergency room, complain about the wait for hours once we got there, and then tell me all of the other more important things she could have been doing on the drive home.

Logically, I knew that wasn't how it was supposed to be. Parents were supposed to be sympathetic when their child was hurt. It was just never something I had experienced, so it was never something I would have expected from anyone.

"You should be sleeping."

My focus drifted back to Edward, his eyes now open and carefully studying me. His thumb gently brushed away a tear I hadn't known had fallen down my cheek.

"I don't understand," I admitted quietly.

"What don't you understand?"

"Why no one is mad at me."

Edward pressed his lips together, doing a good job at keeping his expression as neutral as possible. "Why would anyone be mad at you?" he asked, looking genuinely curious.

"Because I… I got myself hurt and they had to spend the whole day in the hospital. They're all busy people. They have more important things to do than sit around and watch me try to walk across the room."

"You did not get yourself hurt," Edward started slowly. "None of this is your fault, and no one thinks it is. Everyone is just glad you're okay, all things considered."

My teeth sank into my bottom lip. Frustration settled in my bones. I hadn't always been the best patient when it came to therapy, but I had been actively trying to fix my flawed ways of thinking for the last eight months. Now, all of that seemed to be a waste.

Sincerity rang through his voice, not an ounce of frustration or annoyance anywhere in his demeanor. "If you ever start feeling guilty, if you get confused about how it's supposed to be, tell me, okay? I'll remind you. A dozen times a day if I have to."

I nodded against his chest, taking a deep breath to try and clear my head.

"Edward?" I mumbled after a few minutes of silence, my eyelids starting to lose my battle to stay awake. "Thanks for staying."

The last thing I remembered was the feather light brush of his lips against my hair.

…Closure…

"Did I pass?"

I gingerly sat myself down on the edge of my hospital bed. Lexi had come by first thing this morning. Before I was allowed to leave she was supposed to make sure I could walk a certain distance on my own, and go up and down stairs. She brought a set of stairs with her, two that went up followed by two that went down. She had me do them half a dozen times.

"There aren't going to be anymore incidents like yesterday?" Lexi asked me, one brow raised in my direction.

In hindsight, assuming I could stand on my own a few hours after having my hip replaced wasn't my brightest moment. I had been hoping everyone was overreacting, though. There was also a little bit of denial going on at the time but it was quickly erased as soon as I tried to stand up normally and nearly passed out from the pain.

"No," I promised. "No bending my waist more than ninety degrees. No twisting or pivoting at the hip or lifting my knees past my hips. No rotating my feet inward or outward and no crossing my legs. And, no getting addicted to pain pills."

Those were only a few of the rules I had to follow, and the last one was mostly a joke. They were the ones Lexi repeated the most, though, so I assumed they were the most important. I was hoping my memory would help convince her to let me go home.

I really wanted to go home.

I wanted my own shower and shampoo and bed. I wanted to be able to do something for myself. Even though I knew at home Edward wasn't likely to let me do much on my own, every time I got out of bed here a nurse rushed in and it was driving me a little crazy. I wanted to know that my life was still going to be somewhat normal, even with a new hip.

"Then, yes, you passed."

I ignored the soreness in my jaw as I smiled, finding a matching grin on Edward's face as she stood across the room.

"I'll have the nurses start drawing up your discharge papers. Doctor Ford and Doctor Roberts both want to see you one more time before you leave."

Doctor Roberts was the orthopedic surgeon, I remembered his name. I couldn't place a Doctor Ford, though. "Doctor Ford?"

"He's the – "

"Best plastic surgeon in town," a deep voice cut Lexi off as a man walked into the room. He was in a white coat, matching Lexi, and had an easy smile on his face. He had salt and pepper hair with a matching layer of scruff over his chin.

My confusion at his specialty must have been written all over my face.

"Nobody wanted you to have a scar on your forehead," he said patiently, pulling up a rolling stool and taking a seat in front of me. "Whitlock called me before an intern could get close to you."

"Oh," I mumbled, frowning as he pulled the bandage off of my forehead. I saw Lexi leave the room out of the corner of my eye. "So, I won't have a scar?"

A scar on my forehead was the least of my problems, but I didn't love the idea of having a reminder of the whole thing on my face for the rest of my life.

A comforting if slightly cocky smile spread across Doctor Ford's face. "A small one, if any. Everything looks good. Keep it covered and dry and come back in four days and I can remove the stitches."

"Okay," I nodded. "Thank you."

Doctor Ford smiled and left just about as quickly as he appeared, Carlisle and Esme walking in just a moment later.

"There's a security guard walking around with your car keys, Edward," Carlisle told him, giving Edward's shoulder a squeeze as he walked past him.

Edward shrugged, the picture of indifference. "Oh, good."

"Why does a security guard have your car keys?"

He walked over, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "I didn't really bother parking when I got here Friday night."

I frowned, wondering if I wanted more of an explanation or not. Edward knelt in front of me, unbothered by a random man walking around with the keys to his very expensive car.

"Will you be okay for a few minutes?"

I nodded, feeling a little stupid that he had to ask if I would be okay alone for a few minutes and a lot embarrassed at the fact that I wasn't sure if my nod was a lie or not.

"I'll try to find Doctor Roberts, too. See if we can get you out sooner."

"Thanks," I sighed, an errant thought floating through my mind that I would never be able to repay him for the last forty-eight hours.

"How are you feeling?" Esme asked quietly, breaking me out of my guilt-ridden haze. Her and Carlisle walked toward me slowly, like I was a wild animal waiting to attack. More of a wounded animal, maybe.

"Okay, I think. I get to go home soon."

Bright smiles covered both of their faces. "That's wonderful."

Esme took a seat in the chair Doctor Ford left behind, Carlisle standing over her shoulder.

"That's actually what we wanted to talk to you about," Esme told me softly. She hesitated for a moment before grabbing my hand. "We weren't sure what Edward's plan was, when he was going back to work, but we wanted to offer to stay with you for a while. However long you needed before you're back on your feet."

"You can say no," Carlisle said gently. "We just wanted you to know we're here. If you need us."

It took me a few minutes to process their offer. My mind was distracted with memories of Renee sulking off as soon as we got back from the hospital, not so much as another look in my direction. It didn't matter if I had stitches or a broken arm or a concussion. There was never so much as an offer to make me lunch.

My eyes darted back and forth between Carlisle and Esme. Both wore matching faces of concern, both genuinely offering to uproot their lives to take care of me.

And, still, I couldn't understand why.

"In the spirit of full transparency," Carlisle started sheepishly. "I followed your father out yesterday and… exchanged a few words."

I frowned. "Why?"

"Because no one should look so confused when family offers to help them."

I used to be excellent at controlling my emotions. Mostly because I got tired of Renee chastising me for crying when a doctor would set a broken bone, but it was a trait I had kept up over the years. Until now, because it seemed I no longer had control over when big, angry tears started spilling down my cheeks.

Esme's arms wrapped around me first, followed quickly by Carlisle's. Whispered words of comfort drowning out the cries that left my entire body sore with the effort it took to breathe through them.

…Closure…

Being home was supposed to make everything better, make all of my problems disappear and my life go back to normal. There were no longer nurses coming and going every half hour, constantly poking and prodding at me. I wasn't hooked up to a dozen different machines and I finally got rid of the constant beeping that always flooded the hospital room.

Somehow, being home made the whole thing worse. Everywhere I looked there were things I wanted to do, normal things that I took for granted three days ago that I physically could not accomplish now. I couldn't take Lady on a walk. There was a pristine gym in the basement I could no longer use. I couldn't even curl up in bed without risking bending my hip the wrong way.

I sat on the couch in our bedroom, Lady sitting stoically beside me. I tugged at a loose string on the oversized sweatshirt Edward had helped me into, after helping me shower. Again.

The couch sank beside me, Edward sitting carefully next to me fresh out of his own shower. He leaned over, elbows resting on his knees as he tugged at his hair. After a minute, he turned toward me.

"You made me your healthcare proxy."

I gasped, quickly regretting it when it pulled at my ribs the wrong way. "Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I…" I mumbled, unsure how to answer. I had done it months ago, the last time I went to the doctor. I always meant to tell him, but then I forgot the day of and afterwards I started to build it up too much in my mind.

Hey, no big deal, but if I ever have a medical emergency you're in charge of my life. Thanks.

I always rationalized my cowardice with the logic that he would never actually need to make any of those decisions. The proxy had been a suggestion by my college therapist as a way to distance myself from my parents, and keep them from having any kind of control over me. It had been Rosalie for years, but when the doctor handed me a form to confirm Rosalie as the contact, I didn't hesitate in changing it.

"I didn't think you'd ever actually have to do anything."

We were both quiet, the air heavy around us. I watched Edward get more and more frustrated beside me. Even my anxiety ridden gut knew he wasn't frustrated with me not telling him. He was frustrated that he ever had to find out.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he breathed out, his voice tight and gruff. "I'm sorry you ever had to live with those people. I'm sorry I – " his voice got caught in his throat, his attention turning toward me.

I had known Edward Cullen for over a year, and never once had I seen him look so despondent. So gutted that it took my own breath away.

He cleared his throat, though it did nothing to smooth out his voice. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you like I promised I would."

My chest constricted, my heart feeling like it was being squeezed from the inside out. I scooted myself closer to his side, as close as I could get, and wrapped my arm through his.

"You're the only one who has ever protected me, Edward."

He was shaking his head before I even finished my sentence. "Not this time."

"Yes, this time." I ignored his incredulous look and kept going. "You're only human. You can't predict the future or change the past. I know you would if you could, though. And that's… that's more than anyone else has ever done for me."

He wasn't convinced, it was written all over his face. I pressed my lips against his t-shirt covered shoulder.

"I'm still sorry."

"If I don't get to apologize for being a burden, you don't get to apologize for something that was completely out of your control."

Edward was quiet for a minute, the tension slowly leaving his body. He leaned back against the couch, finally relaxing, and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

I turned toward him, my chin resting on his shoulder. "You haven't kissed me in days."

He frowned, pressing another kiss to the same spot in my hair. "I've kissed you plenty of times."

Top of the head kisses. Cheek kisses. Hand kisses. Those were all I got. "Not a real kiss."

Edward reached his free arm across himself, brushing it gently along my bottom lip. There was a small cut in it, which I knew was part of why he hadn't kissed me. A much larger part was the bruise covering my chin and my inability to move it without wincing in pain.

Still. A kiss would be worth it. It would be the ounce of normalcy I had been craving for days. It would give my brain a reprieve from the constant loop of intrusive thoughts that I had been fighting to avoid.

Edward's lips brushed against mine, just barely. It was hardly a kiss, but it felt like it was the first time I could really breathe in days. The few seconds of peace were more than worth the twinge of discomfort in my jaw.

The moment was quickly ruined by a knock at our bedroom door.

"Sorry to interrupt," Esme said quietly, looking far too uncomfortable for my liking. "Jenks is here with a few lawyers that want to talk to Bella."

I walked slower than I needed to as Edward and I headed downstairs. It was the first time in two days that I was okay with having to use a walker. It delayed the inevitable, at least for a few more minutes.

The only time I had actively thought about what happened was when a detective showed up at the hospital. It had been naïve of me to think so, but I had hoped that would be the only time I would have to acknowledge the entire thing. Even if the dining room table hadn't been full of lawyers and detectives when Edward and I finally made it downstairs, I knew this would only be the first of many times I'd have to talk about it. Him.

Ignorance was bliss, though.

There were half a dozen people sitting around the table, only two were familiar faces. Jenks was there, looking at me with pity staining his eyes. Detective Sloan was also there, the one who came to the hospital yesterday. Everyone else was new, which made me far more uncomfortable than I would ever admit.

I hadn't realized how much progress I had made on myself until it was all shattered into a million pieces.

I hesitated in the doorway, my eyes scanning the new faces.

"Bella," Jenks greeted, standing and quickly pulling out the closest chair for me.

"It's good to see you again, Ms. Swan," Detective Sloan offered with a small smile before motioning to the man sitting beside her. He was very obviously a cop, probably a detective. His buzz cut and stern face and navy-blue suit did nothing to hide his profession. "This is my partner, Detective Wilson."

Detective Wilson gave me a nod, and what was probably supposed to be a kind smile. He didn't seem to be a natural at smiling, though, and it came out as more of a grimace. At least he tried.

"I'm Rhea Taylor, and this is Colleen Foster. We work at the District Attorney's office."

A knot of nausea formed in my stomach.

"Hello," I signed, carefully sitting down and trying not to frown at the pain radiating through my ribs.

Edward sat down beside me, intertwining our fingers and giving my hand a squeeze. My returning one might have been more of a bone crushing clutch.

"We'll get right to it," one of the girls, Rhea, said. "Mr. Dwyer's arraignment is tomorrow morning at nine."

"Okay," I breathed out. "What… what does that mean?"

"It's a hearing where he'll be formally read the charges against him."

"What are you charging him with?" Edward asked, his voice harsher than I was expecting.

"First-degree attempted murder."

First-degree attempted murder.

The words played on repeat in my mind, each easy enough to understand. My brain was just having a hard time comprehending them at the moment.

I knew what had happened. I might have spent the last two days trying my hardest to forget the whole thing, but it would be engrained in my memory for the rest of my life. Hearing it defined as attempted murder was apparently where my brain decided to draw the line and shut down.

"First-degree?" Edward asked. His brain was obviously much more lucid than mine currently was.

"It means Mr. Dwyer's assault was premeditated and intentional."

"He planned it."

An even more uncomfortable air settled over the table. Detective Sloane opened up a folder that was sitting on the table in front of her, placing photo after photo in front of Edward and I.

"We got a warrant for the hotel he had been staying at for the last month. He had hundreds of photos of Bella and detailed notes documenting her schedule."

The ringing in my ears overruled Edward's next few questions. My eyes scanned the photos in front of me, each one making my stomach roll. There were photos of me as I walked into my office building. To the gym. The grocery store. Even the dog park Lady and I tried out a week ago. All of them were taken from afar, but the idea that he had even been that close and I had no idea was like a shot of ice through my veins.

"He was stalking her," Edward spat out.

"Yes. We've got enough evidence to prove he violated Ms. Swan's restraining order at least a dozen times and a very strong case for first-degree attempted murder."

"What is the sentence for it, if he's convicted?"

"Life, with a possibility of parole."

My chair screeched against the wooden floor. I stood too quickly, too haphazardly, and somehow nearly every inch of my body was pulled in just the right direction to make everything hurt. The pain was a nice distraction from the mental turmoil.

"I can't do this," I gasped, slowly making my way out of the room. My disdain for the walker was back as it took me far too long to get away from the suffocating atmosphere in the room. I made it to the kitchen sink just in time for my stomach to roll again and the little food I had managed to get down today to come back up.

Edward's fingers brushed my cheek and he pulled my hair back, his other hand rubbing softly against my back. I tried to focus on the soothing gesture, but the panic building up in my chest couldn't be ignored.

"I'm sorry," I panted. "I just – I can't – " Every gasping breath was agonizing and useless as my lungs never felt satisfied with the little air they brought in.

"You're okay," Edward said calmly, gently pulling me against his chest. "Just breathe."

It took me a couple minutes to be able to match my breathing to his. Even then, my ears were still ringing and the reality of what they were charging Tyler with still spinning around in my head.

First-degree attempted murder.

"I can't do this," I repeated, panic building up in my chest again.

"I'll take care of it."

I was shaking my head against his chest before he could finish his sentence. "You shouldn't have to – "

"Bella," Edward interrupted quietly but strictly. He pulled back a few inches to look down at me, his fingers brushing some wayward hair out of my face. "From the moment we met you have done nothing but solve my problems. Every fucking one of them. I will take care of as much of this as I can."

I had no fight left in me. My body was exhausted, every breath painful. The last two days had been spent in bed but very little of that time had been restful. All I wanted to do was forget, which was hard when there was a room full of people forcing me to remember.

"Thank you," I mumbled, nearly incoherently, against his chest.

Without another word, Edward led me over to the elevator off of the main foyer. An elevator I thought was ridiculous when we first looked at the house. It would have taken me a good five minutes to get up the stairs now, so I had lost any right to complain about the extravagant elevator.

Edward settled me into bed, sliding my phone across the bedside table so it was within reach. He knelt beside me, wiping his thumb gently across my cheekbone.

"Try to get some sleep, okay?" he said softly, pulling the comforter tighter around my shoulder.

I nodded, feeling the bed dip near my feet. I didn't have to look down to know Lady had made herself comfortable down there.

My eyes dripped closed before Edward was out of the room. The air was still around me. Gone was the frantic atmosphere of the hospital, the sterile scent and the constant beeping were no longer looming around every corner. I focused on Lady's snoring from the foot of the bed, counting each of her breaths before my own mind finally turned off.

…Closure…

"Are you sure you're okay with us going?" Edward asked me for the fifth time the next morning.

I nodded. "If you're sure you want to go."

The arraignment was in a couple hours, something Edward, Carlisle, and Esme decided they wanted to attend. The three of them spent another hour talking with all of the lawyers and detectives yesterday. Something I knew I probably should have done as well, but hearing all of those people define what had happened as attempted murder pushed me even further past my breaking point than I already was.

I had cried every time Edward helped me shower since that first time in the hospital. I woke up to dried tears on my cheeks that I didn't even remember falling. And I nearly lost it when Carlisle and Esme said they wanted to go to the arraignment with Edward. Sometimes I didn't even have a concrete reason for the tears, they just started falling on their own and I no longer had the self-control to fight them.

It was exhausting. I was exhausted and sore and had no idea how I could ever go back to who I was before. Because before I turned around and saw Tyler standing behind me, I was happy. Blissfully happy and content and hopeful and safe. Now, I could barely hold myself together at the thought of Edward in the same room as him.

I understood it, sort of. His need to be there. Even if it was something I couldn't let myself think about too much. Still, the whole thing made my stomach uneasy.

"We won't be gone too long."

You ruined every-fucking-thing Bella!

I flinched and the unwanted memory. They had started coming back this morning. Or my fragile lock on them in the back of my mind was coming loose from all of the crying. Either way, it wasn't good.

"Bella?"
My eyes snapped back over to Edward, kneeling in front of me as I sat buried under a pile of blankets in our home theater. His eyes didn't hold the usual spark I liked to see in them, the emerald forest that I liked to get lost in was clouded and dark.

"I'm okay," I said, even though we both knew it was a lie as I blinked away the tears that started to flood my lashes.

Edward's fingers wrapped gently around the side of my neck, his thumb rubbing gently against my cheek. He pressed a soft peck to my lips. "I love you."

His words made a small smile tug at my lips, even through the war in my mind.

"I love you, too."

"Okay. There's a new series on Netflix that just dropped. I have every nail polish color you could possibly want. And Masen is making his specialty grilled cheese." Lucy rounded the corner, arms full of nail polish and blankets as Lady pranced along behind her.

Edward stood up, pressing one more kiss to my forehead before turning toward Lucy. He gave her a hug, whispered something in her ear I couldn't make out, and was gone before I could give in and ask him to stay.

Lucy sat carefully down next to me. "You choose a color and I'll start the show."

She handed me a basket full of nail polish that I quickly realized was full of my usual choice of pale neutrals.

"I thought my usual color was too boring?"

Lucy shrugged, setting the control down as soon as the familiar big red 'N' popped up on screen. "It is. But, I'll let it slide today."

Lucy and I sat in a comfortable silence as she painted my nails. The women on the screen bickered about something petty and I welcomed the mundane distraction. I gave Lucy a smile as she finished my last nail, and quickly realized she wasn't as relaxed as she should be. Her pale brows were furrowed and her ocean eyes swimming with uncertainty.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just…" she sighed, curling her legs up underneath her and tugging a blanket around her shoulders. "I'm really glad you're okay."

I had a decade worth of abuse to thank for the absolute shock I felt at her admission.

"I know we haven't always gotten along and I know that's mostly my fault. But… when we were at the hospital Friday night and you were in surgery I just… I've never seen my dad look so lost."

My tear ducts should have dried up a day ago, but I felt a new round start to sting behind my eyes.

"He's my dad, you know? He doesn't panic. He knows what to do all of the time. He's got all of the answers. But, when you were in surgery he was… despondent. And scared. And I – I'm sorry I ever thought you weren't with him for the right reasons."

"It's okay," I answered quickly, before my throat constricted too tight and I couldn't talk.

"No, it's not. I always had this picture in my head of Mom and Dad back together and happy but I know it was just a fantasy I had made up. They were never happy. Dad was relieved when he got divorced. He was shattered when he thought he might lose you.

"Don't get me wrong, I don't love that there are Junior's at my school that look older than you, but I'm glad he has you," she finished with a tentative smile.

I didn't know how to respond. There had still been this fear in the back of my mind that Lucy would change her mind one day and decide she didn't like me anymore. It didn't seem to be something I had to keep worrying about now.

"I don't love that there are Junior's at your school that look older than me, either," I admitted with a smile. The tension was broken quickly at my joke, just as I had hoped.

Lucy would never be my daughter. We were far too close in age for us to ever fall into that dynamic. I could confidently call us friends now, and maybe even silence that voice in the back of my head that always told me she still secretly hated me.

A/N: I hope this one was worth the wait. I'm sorry for the longer wait between updates, but thanks for sticking with me and these two. See you next time!