I have a terrible time sleeping, even with my oxygen on. My cough seems to get exponentially worse as the late hours tick by, and I'm sweaty and cold. Fuck Emmett for being right, but I think it's just a cold—at least, I hope so. I'm not really in the mood to be sick and miss work, but I guess I don't have much control over that and let Ms. Sue know just in case I'll be out. She tells me to take care of myself and not worry about a thing, but I feel bad.

Around five in the morning, I give up pretending to sleep and walk downstairs to the couch. I turn on a true crime documentary I've been wanting to see and cough and blow my nose for the next hour until Emmett wakes up.

"Shit, Bells," he says, taking one look at me as I cough more. His brow furrows in concern. "Look, um … I'm not saying you're going to wind up back in the hospital, but it may not be a bad idea to have a bag packed in case that happens at some point—again, not that it's going to now, but just to be on the safe side. You know, so Alice doesn't have to go through your drawers and ruin your organization again."

She did make a mess of things last time, but I don't like the idea of packing for the hospital. That doesn't mean he's wrong though.

"Yeah," I sigh, grabbing a tissue and blowing my nose. "I think this is just a bad cold though. I usually get one in late October or early November."

He nods while trying to nonchalantly gauge my temperature by pushing my hair back. He's way too obvious to be nonchalant though. "Yeah, that's probably it. I'm going to go for a quick run, but I'll be ready to go by seven-thirty. I'd try to get some rest if I were you."

I smile softly, promising him I'll try before he heads out. It's impossible though.

"Fuck," I groan, putting a pillow over my face, and then trying to scream into it. My voice breaks though, so I can't even do that.

I do as he suggested and put some underwear and shorts into a small bag. I have some extra deodorant and a small bottle of shampoo and body wash, so I throw those in too for good measure. When I wind up in the hospital again, at least I won't be stuck with their supplies.

By the time Emmett gets home, I've thrown on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie but haven't found the energy to do much else aside from brush my teeth. I look terrible, and I dread Edward seeing me this way—not that I probably didn't look worse when he shocked my heart back into a normal rhythm.

"Ready, kiddo?" Em asks as he comes down the stairs, freshly showered.

I nod and hold up the bag I've packed. "Keep this in your car," I say. "Just in case."

He nods sadly, taking it from me before leading me out to the Porsche.

At least, I get a fun ride.

Thanks to May, Nole, Fran, Brier, and Meg for prereading and Sally for Beta'ing