II. Who Are You, Really?

As the screaming of the witnesses erupted around us, I leaned down to examine her face, to see if she was conscious—hoping fiercely that she was not bleeding anywhere. (Midnight Sun, page 58)

Her eyes were screwed shut, features drawn tightly in fear.

"Isabella?!" I asked urgently. "Are you alright?"

Her eyes shot open and swung to meet my gaze. And for a terrifyingly long moment, she didn't respond.

Crushing relief washed through me, when she finally stammered dazedly, "I...I'm fine. Thanks for the save."

I sucked in a breath through my teeth, and did not mind the accompanying burn in my throat. I almost welcomed it.

But then she was screwing her eyes shut once more, lips quivering and fear contorting her features as she inhaled a shuddering gasp. The sight caused something painful to twist inside of my hollow chest.

"…You're welcome," I answered, belated, wondering how I could reassure her, how I could wipe away the terror from her face. Even worse, I couldn't know whether she was merely afraid or truly hurt. I had tried my best not to knock her to the ground so violently, but perhaps in the midst of my urgency, I had injured her.

I recalled the sharp crack of her skull against the ice and winced sharply.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked again, her silence further serving to agitate me. "You hit your head pretty hard."

"It hurts," she confessed, meeting my urgent gaze with a small wince. "But I don't think it's anything serious," she hurriedly added.

Although her reassurance brought me a small amount of comfort, I felt the desperate need to ascertain this for myself.

But I hesitated, when I realized I would have to release her. She felt safer this way―tucked against my side.

I ignored my absurd reluctance. There had been no smell of fresh blood, but that didn't rule out internal damage. Gently, I asked, "Do you think you can sit up?"

My words appeared to have startled her. She suddenly grew rigid within my grasp, and oddly enough, met my eyes with a guarded gaze. "Right," she said quietly, ripping her gaze away and shifting in my grip. "Yes. I can sit up."

Pushing past my own hesitation, I carefully sat up, sliding my hands from her waist to gently grip her elbows. As soon as I'd pulled her up, Isabella quickly scooted back, though there was hardly any room to do so, wrapping herself in her arms, mumbling a soft, "Thanks."

I frowned, but did not protest. Instead, I focused my eyes on the side of her head which had struck the asphalt.

To my immense gratitude, it was not the gruesome sight I had feared, but rather a slight bump hardly visible beneath the layers of her thick hair.

The accident scene was surrounded now. Mostly students, peering and pushing through the cracks to see if any mangled bodies were visible. There was a babble of shouting and a gush of shocked thoughts.

I scanned the thoughts once to make sure there were no suspicions yet

Isabella remained painfully quiet.

While the rescue attempt began around us―adults arriving, authorities called, sirens in the distance―I tried to ignore her silence and get my priorities straight. I searched through every mind in the lot, the witnesses and the latecomers both, but I could not find anything dangerous. Many were surprised to see me here beside Isabella, but all concluded that they hadn't noticed me standing by her before the accident.

I winced when I caught the thoughts of Rosalie, Jasper, and Emmett, just arriving on the scene. There would be hell to pay for this tonight.

For now, I waited. There was not much more I could do without threatening further exposure. Even something as simple as ironing out the indentation of my shoulders from the tan car would have to wait. At least, until Isabella, who was sitting much too close, was distracted.

Once the humans finished struggling to push aside the van, the EMTs moved in with their stretchers and a familiar, grizzled face appraised me.

"Hey, Edward," Brett Warner said. He was also a registered nurse, and I knew him well from the hospital. "You okay, kid?"

"Perfect, Brett. Nothing touched me. But I'm afraid Isabella might have a concussion. She hit her head when I yanked her out of the way..."

To my relief, Brett switched his attention over to Isabella.

The next EMT tried to insist that I allow myself to be treated, but it wasn't too difficult to dissuade him.

I promised I would let my father examine me, and he let it go.


The first priority, when we reached the hospital, was to see Carlisle. It was easy to find my father's familiar mind. He was in his small office, all alone.

"Carlisle."

He'd heard my approach, and he was alarmed as soon as he saw my face.

I explained all that had transpired in the past hour. And at my request, he went to attend to the situation personally.

I waited alone in Carlisle's office―one of the longer hours I had ever lived―listening to the hospital full of thoughts.

Despite the fact that Tyler Crowley appeared to be injured far worse than Isabella, it was not enough to keep him from talking at her, immensely consumed with the guilt of having almost killed her. Unnoticed by him, Isabella didn't appear very attentive, laying on the gurney, neck brace discarded.

And then, he asked her how she'd gotten out of the way.

I waited, not breathing, as she finally turned to acknowledge him.

"Edward pulled me out of the way," she stated simply, with no hesitation.

I exhaled. And then my breathing accelerated. I'd never heard her speak my name before. I liked the way it sounded―even just hearing it through Tyler's thoughts. I wanted to hear it for myself…

Isabella offered no further explanation and it took a long moment for Tyler to realize who I was.

"Cullen?" Huh. That's weird. "I didn't see him." I could have sworn... "Wow, it was all so fast, I guess. Is he okay?"

Isabella shrugged and turned back. "He seemed fine."

It's why she didn't notice the shift in Tyler's gaze as he observed her closely.

She's pretty, he was thinking, almost in surprise. Even all messed up. Not my usual type, still... I should take her out. Make up for today...

I was out in the hall, then, halfway to the emergency room, without thinking about what I was doing. Luckily, the nurse entered the room before I could―it was Isabella's turn for x-rays. I leaned against the wall in a dark nook just around the corner, and tried to get a grip on myself while she was wheeled away.

It didn't matter that Tyler thought she was pretty. Anyone would notice that.

There was no reason for me to feel...how did I feel? Annoyed? Or was angry closer to the truth? That made no sense at all.

I stayed where I was for as long as I could, until―

Edward.

I straightened up, when Carlisle mentally reached out.

Come. I require a second opinion.

I switched directions in one fluid motion, following the quickest path to radiology, where I found Carlisle alone, observing a series of x-rays stuck to the lightboard.

"Take a look here," he requested as soon as I'd reached his side.

I settled my gaze across the x-ray he gestured towards.

At first glance, I assumed I was looking at the images of an adolescent brain, going by its size and shape, but the further I studied it, the more I realized that it was likely the scans of an adult with a slightly larger than average brain size.

Some of the gray spotting was odd, but could be blamed on the out-of-date equipment available to the hospital.

Additionally, there were focal areas around the brain's cortex which appeared smaller by comparison. But the discrepancy was very minor―a detail only my eyes or Carlisle's would've had the ability to catch.

"Early onset dementia," I concluded on the most common form of cortical atrophy. "Although I am unable to reach an accurate diagnosis based on a CT scan alone."

"Now, take a look at this one."

I quelled my impatience, and drifted my gaze over to the next brain scan. This one was also the right shape and size for an older adolescent, and appeared healthy in appearance. Any further study on my part was fruitless.

"This one appears to be in good condition," I said.

"Yes," Carlisle agreed. "That one belongs to Mr. Crowley."

I lifted an eyebrow, curious as to why he would show me his brain scans. While it was good to see for myself that he would make a full recovery, it wasn't really him I was concerned about.

"Whose is the other?" I inquired, taking another peek to see if I'd missed anything. I frowned at the strange spotting. Tyler's hadn't had it, meaning it couldn't have been a result from faulty equipment.

"This one belongs to Miss Swan."

I froze.

"…That can't be."

"I assure you, it is," Carlisle frowned, and pointed a finger along her brain's cortex. "Take a look again. This isn't degeneration. I arrived to the same conclusion at first, but compare it to Tyler's and you'll see."

I observed both scans side-by-side. The relation to each other revealed that Isabella's brain wasn't atrophied at the edges like I'd first assumed. It was the odd spotting on other parts of her brain that made the tissue appear marginally smaller by comparison.

Beyond that, I couldn't make sense of it.

"Have you seen anything like it before?"

"Never," he admitted, and then shifted his finger over to the odd spotting across her brain. "The closest I can compare it to is the focal neural activity seen in victims of PTSD, but the pattern isn't quite the same. And there's no atrophy of grey matter to suggest this might be the case. I'd need to get some MRI scans to get a better look, as well as ask her a few questions. I can't be entirely sure if there's external factors that have caused this or not."

I nearly agreed, eager to know what it was about Isabella that made her so strange.

Until reality came crashing down, and I was forced to say, "I'm sorry, Carlisle. You can't do that."

He frowned. "Perhaps it wouldn't be wise to keep attention on this incident for longer than necessary. But I would be failing in my duty if I were to ignore this."

"Not necessarily," I admitted. At his behest, I elaborated, "Isabella is…abnormal. From what little we've seen, Alice and I believe she may be uniquely powered. I know it's extremely rare, but already I am unable to read her mind, and that isn't even the strangest thing about her. Perhaps these scans only serve to prove that she is supernaturally able."

"That thought hadn't crossed my mind." In his mind, Carlisle despaired at the idea of incidentally exposing another supernatural being.

But like him, I was unable to squash my own curiosity. "No, but, if I could offer another avenue of investigating this?"

"Go on."

"Contact the hospital in Phoenix," I suggested. "Get copies of Isabella's medical files. If she's had brain scans previous to today, you'd at least be able to study those and compare them to the current ones."

"Yes." Like I expected, he latched onto the idea with enthusiasm. "We can't be sure there will be much available, but going by the healed contusions along her skull, it's likely this isn't her first incident."

I nodded and took a step back.

"I think I'm going to go talk to her, before she sees you," I said. "Like I mentioned before, she didn't appear to suspect a thing, but I'm positive the shock has worn off by now. I'd rather she direct any questions she has towards me."

Carlisle nodded absently, still looking over the x-rays. "Good idea. I'll join you momentarily."

I walked away quickly, feeling guilty, but relieved that Carlisle hadn't realized my very selfish reasons for wanting to see her.

When I got to the ER, Tyler was still apologizing, while Isabella continued to ignore him, appearing small and vulnerable in the hospital cot.

I took a deep breath and moved into view.

When Tyler saw me, he started to speak, "Hey, Edward. I'm really sorry―"

I raised one hand to halt his apology. "No blood, no foul," I said wryly.

It was amazingly easy to ignore Tyler, lying no more than four feet from me, covered in fresh blood. Even fresh and exposed, Tyler's blood had nothing on Isabella's.

I kept my distance from her, seating myself on the foot of Tyler's mattress.

When I finally caught her eyes, I asked, "So, what's the verdict?"

"I'm fine," she said simply.

When she added nothing more, I offered her a soft smile. "That's a relief to hear."

I watched her carefully, but it appeared she was no more suspicious of me than when I'd first rescued her. Just the ever present disquiet that lingered in her eyes ever since my first, nearly murderous, encounter with her.

Even Carlisle's appearance did nothing more than slightly startle her.

"So, Miss Swan, how are you feeling?" Carlisle asked.

"I'm fine," she repeated quietly.

Carlisle clipped her x-rays to the lightboard by the bed, confident that she wouldn't notice any of the oddities we had discussed earlier. "Your x-rays look good. Does your head hurt? Edward said you hit it pretty hard."

She nodded and agreed, "It hurts."

Carlisle stepped closer to her and ran his fingers gently over her scalp until he found the bump under her hair. She flinched.

"Take some Tylenol for the pain," he recommended, dropping his hand. "Your father is in the waiting room―you can go home with him now. But come back if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight at all."

"Thank you," she said, pushing herself up and slowly swinging her legs over the bed.

Once she was standing safely on the floor, Carlisle smiled and said, "Of course. I wish you a speedy recovery, Miss Swan." He turned to Tyler. "I'm afraid that you'll have to stay with us just a little bit longer."

Realizing that Isabella had already begun to make her way towards the waiting room, I hurried to fall into step beside her.

Isabella appeared flabbergasted by my actions.

"Isabella," I spoke up, just before we reached the doors to the waiting room.

She paused and turned to look at me with wide, apprehensive eyes.

"Are you positive you're alright?"

Although I had come to understand that her silence around me was intentional (as I so rightfully deserved), I had the sense that her current reticence was more a result of the trauma she had just experienced than any lingering trepidation she felt in my presence. I wished so desperately that I could ease her distress.

Isabella blinked and then offered me a far kinder smile than I had ever received from her. "Yes. It's not exactly my first rodeo. I'll be fine."

Before I could respond, she pushed the doors open into the cacophony that awaited her on the other side.

Meanwhile, I remained rooted to my spot, the accumulation of unanswered questions resting on the tip of my tongue.

With a frown, I pivoted on my heel and strode off.

Tomorrow. I'll see her again tomorrow.


A/N: Sorry, I know I promised I would update this back in September, but I struggled, and then I got sick :/

Share your thoughts please! :)

In Reference to A Body of Water and Bones: Chapter 2.