I'm so sorry this has taken so long. Life has been busy and my health hasn't been great. But I'm hoping things will turn around soon!

Thank you to everyone who reads, reviews, and favorites this story. You're amazing!

Big thanks to Fran, Mr G and Me, and Monica03 for all their help as well. (Any mistakes you see are my own.)

SM owns everything Twilight.

Heavy footsteps from multiple people pound on the floor, followed by the most enticing aroma I've ever smelled; it hangs heavy and thick in the air, the scent coating my nostrils and making my throat engulf in fire.

Never in my life have I smelled anything so good. My mind goes into a frenzy … needing, wanting, and craving whatever smells so delicious.

In my head, I hear a guttural roar, followed by an intense need to move. I push myself, wanting to get closer to this scent, to take it for myself. It's all I can think about, and it's all I want.

Somewhere, in the corner of my mind, I feel something start to stretch away from me as if there's a layer of film over my skin, and it's slowly being pulled back.

This is an odd sensation; I feel a tingling in my brain, and shortly after, I feel the muscles twitch in my feet. But I can't concentrate on this for long; the overwhelming need to capture that delicious aroma is all I can focus on.

"Bring it over here," Edward commands, carefully maneuvering me into a sitting position, slipping his legs on either side of mine.

"I don't know about this," Emmett skeptically replies, his voice growing closer. "I think we should just wait until she opens her eyes."

"And if she's too weak, what then?"

Silence is his reply, but he must take that as answer enough. I hear a shuffling of something coarse against the fabric, and the overwhelming scent gets closer to me.

If I were able, I'd be screeching and clawing at anything and anyone in my way of this delicious smell. I feel a low vibration start to rattle deep in my chest, but instead of it growing louder and intense, it dies off, as if someone had flipped a switch.

"How is she going to drink that?" A new voice asks, completely unfamiliar to me.

It's a woman, and while I'm intrigued by this new person, the flaring burn in my throat is now more important.

While I want to know how many people—and who—are here, all that's important right now is for me to get vocal and mobile again; I have some things that need to be discussed.

"I'll pour it down her throat," Edward responds, a touch of irritation in his tone. "Could you leave now?"

"Wow," the female replies, sarcasm dripping from every word. "That was almost polite, Edward. I'm impressed."

Edward responds with a low growl. "Get the hell out. Now."

"Touchy-touchy."

"Come on, Tanya," another unfamiliar female voice chimes in. "Leave him alone. Garrett and the others are waiting for us outside."

"Fine."

"We'll leave you the house for the time being; if you need anything, we'll have our phones on us. Good luck."

The door closes, and there's a moment of silence before Edward moves again, shifting the delicious aroma toward me once more.

"You all should leave as well," Edward says, pausing.

I want to scream and punch him because, at this point, it feels as if he's just teasing me, and I hate it.

"You don't know what she'll be like if—when she wakens," Carlisle amends when I hear the resounding growls of Edward and my mother. "If she's uncontrollable, you'll need help."

"You are a handful and a pain in my ass," Edward whispers in my ear, placing a kiss there. "Emmett and Esme's transformations weren't nearly as stressful as this. Nor Alice's."

A torrent of insults hurl their way through my head in a never-ending stream; I imagine them flying toward Edward, shooting their way into his head like arrows, penetrating his skull and letting him see just how pissed I am right now.

A second later, it seems I get my wish.

Edward releases a combination of a groan and a gasp, and he flinches, trying to jerk himself away from me, but his grip never loosens. He takes me with him, tumbling on the floor in a mass of limbs and a string of curses.

Instead of it being painful—as I expect since I fell on my head—it isn't. It merely feels as if I landed into a pillow, the floor caving in underneath my weight.

Exclamations of shock and concern fill the air, overwhelming my senses and making my head pound. I want to flinch away, but I'm currently unable to move, so Edward does it for me.

Pulling away, I feel air glide through my hair and the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor. One of Edward's hands remains draped across my waist, pulling tighter and tighter against him.

"Stop," he moans, his voice rising as a flurry of questions come flying at him.

"What's wrong?"

"What's happened?"

"Are you okay?"

"Bro! You, okay?"

"Son, talk to— "

"Everyone, stop!" Edward roars, his breathing labored, as pain laces every syllable. "Bella," he whispers after a moment. "I know you're hurting, but please … stop."

Multiple gasps sound out as they realize what had just happened.

As they realize I'm the one that hurt him.

Guilt stabs at me, but there's not much I can do about it at the moment.

Low whispered murmurs follow shortly, while I try to control the anger simmering within me because apparently, I'm the cause of his pain.

I try to focus on something, anything, else, but all my thoughts circle back to the heady, rich aroma hanging in the air and the fact that my throat burns terribly with each second that goes by.

"Okay," Edward whispers, his fingers gently sweeping over my hip. "Okay. It's okay. Em, hand me that; she needs to eat. Now."

"So … she's in there, then?" Emmett asks, his footsteps—along with the delicious scent—getting closer. "She's … alive?"

"Yeah. I think it's what we thought, Carlisle. She's trapped in there; she doesn't know how to get herself out."

Carlisle breathes out a word of astonishment but quickly jumps into the situation. "It could be a reflex action; like a muscle you haven't used in a while. You'd need to relearn how to use it. Do you really think this will help her?"

"She's thirsty, Dad. She's starving. I don't know if this will help bring her out, but we have to do something. Maybe if she eats, it'll snap her out of her head."

"Possibly," he murmurs. "Let's feed her now."

"Hey, Bella," Emmett starts, his voice timid. "I'm sorry about the accident. I swear, I didn't mean for you to get hurt or for any of this to happen. I swear it; I mean, I'm glad you're okay, but you should never have been in that position to begin with and— "

"Emmett," Edward interrupts. "It doesn't count if she's unconscious."

"Right, right. Let's get her eyes open, then."

There's a long silence, and then I feel something warm and wet at my lips. The rich scent invades my nose and warms my head, sending a shockwave of heat through me.

Reflexively, my neck and body tighten as the liquid is poured into my mouth, the warmth of it soothing the fire in my throat in a strange dichotomy of something that shouldn't be possible.

Suddenly, a low vibration of a growl rattles deep in my chest, much like it had moments ago.

But this time, it's different.

Instead of the sound dying off before it can get started, it grows in intensity, getting louder and louder until it sounds like someone unleashed a wild animal.

Someone chuckles from behind me, the sound vibrating through my back and into my body. It cuts off just as quickly as it started as another low snarl rumbles through my throat.

Before too long, the liquid runs dry and empty, leaving me feeling sated but not full. I inhale deeply, looking for any more of this delectable food, but I smell nothing. There's only the heady scent of paper, grass, and soap that's the strongest and must be coming from Edward.

There are other scents, too; laundry detergent, a light perfume scent, pine, and lavender. They're not strong scents, but they definitely hang in the air as if a mist had just been sprayed.

"Bella?"

Ever so slightly, I feel my head jerk toward the voice, but nothing more happens; my limbs are slack and still, and my eyes still closed. An oppressive weight hangs on me, rendering me incapable of movement.

"I thought you said this would work," my mother says, her tone slightly scolding.

"This hasn't occurred before," Edward replied, aggravated. "Every person who's gone through the change has woken after their heart stopped. There hasn't been one person that has continued to sleep—who are you thinking about, Carlisle?"

Edward stops, his tone harsh and biting. It makes me even more curious as to who he's talking to and what they're thinking.

Thankfully, I don't have to wonder for very long.

"Marcus of the Volturi; his mate had continued to sleep after her transformation."

"But she woke up, right?" Mom asks, her tone pleading and distraught.

Carlisle sighs and the sound of flesh rubbing against flesh sounds through the room. "No, she never woke. To this day, she continues to sleep. Marcus continues to hold on to hope; he still feeds her every day and never leaves her side unless he must. Her brother, another member of the Volturi, still visits her as well. But she hasn't woken … and she was turned over two hundred years ago."

Soft cries from my mother, Esme, and Alice pierce the air as Edward's hold on my body tightens. Mom's cries grow into guttural sobs, and she mumbles out something unintelligible before hurried footsteps race from the room, telling me she's left.

"I'll go after her," Esme says. Shortly after, I feel fingers softly trace over my hairline. "She'll be okay."

There's a long moment of heavy silence, the tension palpable in the air. Edward grips me tighter, his growl reverberating from his chest into mine.

"No."

"Son," Carlisle starts but is quickly interrupted by Edward snarling.

"No! Don't you even think it, Emmett."

His brother sighs heavily. "You need to prepare, just in case, okay? From what Carlisle said— "

"I heard her; from what you thought about Marcus's mate, not even Aro could hear her thoughts when he touched, right Dad?"

"It's true; Aro couldn't hear her at all. It was like she was sleeping."

"There you go," Edward simply says. Slightly, I move up and down, and I figure he must have shrugged. "She's in there, Em. I heard her. I felt her. She just has to find her way back, that's all."

"Bro— "

"Leave," Edward responds coldly. "Before I throw you out. And don't think I can't; I'm severely pissed off right now."

"Come on, Emmett," Alice softly says, followed by the sound of flesh softly patting fabric. "Let's leave them alone."

Two sets of footsteps retreat from the room, one a little bit heavier than the first; almost as if they're dragging their feet while the other seemingly bounces across the floor. It's shocking how I can tell the difference between them.

"For the record," Alice lowly says as if she's sharing a secret. "I think she'll come out of this just fine."

"Have you seen something?" Edward eagerly asks.

When she replies, her tone is frustrated and petulant. "No. I still can't see her."

This fact tickles me, and when I get out of this mental prison I've apparently trapped myself in, I'm rubbing that in her face, just because I can.

"But," Alice continues. "I know she will. I may not see it with my visions, but I feel it. It's odd. It's a sure feeling, just as much as a vision."

"Thanks, Alice."

When she replies, I can hear the smile in her voice. "No problem. Quit being an overdramatic, lazy tart, Bella."

In my head, I hear laughter, and since I can't physically laugh, it feels extremely weird. To have this sensation running through my body without any physical effects or manifestations is bordering on very cool and very creepy at the same time.

Regardless, I'm still going after her for that remark.

"She's going to kick your ass."

Edward knows me so well, and this is probably the only time I'll ever admit I'm happy about it. I'm glad he can speak for me since I'm unable to.

"Why do you think I said it?" Alice says. A moment later, footsteps race in my direction, and I feel cold lips press into my cheek. "Find a way out soon, okay? I miss you."

Without another word, she runs off again, closing the door with a gentle click.

"Alice is right, son. Bella will be fine."

"You really believe that?" Edward questions. "Because when you were talking about Marcus's mate— "

"There are similarities in both cases," he trails off, seemingly lost in thought.

I'm curious about what he's thinking, and I want Edward to hurry him up, but whatever his father is thinking, he seems to be content on where it's going.

Since I can't read minds, and I'm basically a vegetable, my patience is nonexistent.

I feel the vibration start-up in my chest again, but like before, it goes nowhere.

"Verbally, Dad," Edward requests, probably sensing my impatience.

"Right, right. I apologize, Bella. Anyway, there are similarities, but I doubt this is what fate had in store for you … or her."

"I hope not," Edward replies, his tone almost too low for me to hear. He squeezes me tighter, his lips ghosting over my neck. "I just found her."

"Have faith, son," Carlisle tells him. Seconds later, I hear something pat on a solid surface; most like Carlisle embracing his son the only way he can, considering said son hasn't let me go once. "Bella is a strong person, and she'll make it through this. She won't give up; she still has to piss you off, after all."

"Ha, ha. Been talking to Charlie, have you?"

Once more, my curiosity is piqued, and I add this latest tidbit to my mental folder to ask about later.

"Of course. We're practically in-laws now."

The mere thought of being married sends a rush through my head, and if I could, I'd be running for the hills as fast as I can.

I'm too young to get married, not to mention I haven't known Edward long. Sure, I have some deep feelings for him, but I'm not even sure it's love.

Now, here his father is, talking about being in-laws with my father when Edward and I haven't even been officially dating a year.

I'm sure time is different for vampires, considering they have loads of it, but you'd think they'd take their time on some things, especially marriage.

I try as hard as I can to make myself open my eyes and move, but that immobile pressure still weighs frustratingly heavy on me.

"Out," Edward says immediately. "You and Charlie—you're both insane! Bella and I haven't been dating that long, and you're trying to get us married off? What's wrong with you?"

His only reply is a chuckle and footsteps that carry away. "You forget, you're from an era that married at a young age, without hardly knowing their spouse. I don't think you've changed that much."

"Out."

"I'll check in on you in a bit, son. To make you eat next time."

Edward huffs and starts muttering under his breath about his insane parents. Despite the fact that I freaked out myself, it's entirely more humorous to hear his panicked reaction.

"Completely off-kilter," he mutters. "Insane … they've both had too much brain damage, I think. It's nuts … we need to get away before they marry us when we're not looking. It wouldn't be bad, honestly. Just not right now. There's too much— "he trails off with a sigh, his breath fanning over my skin. "You have to wake up, Bella. I'd say something cliché like I can't do this without you, but I know you'd rip my head off for that."

I agree with him on this, knowing that would be my reaction, along with some mocking … it's a nice sentiment, but it's not us.

"So instead," he continues, his voice low and calculating. "Instead, I'll tell you that I don't want to. Even though you aggravate me to no end, I like it. I crave it, almost as much as I craved your blood when we first met. You're a challenge, that's for sure … and a huge pain in the ass, but I need that in my life. I need you in my life."

His words are sweet and comforting, and being trapped inside my own body gives me the freedom to react the way I want without fear of anyone seeing it.

I love the way his statement makes me feel; I know he genuinely cares about me, but hearing it reaffirmed is always nice and welcome.

I just wish I could tell him I felt the same way.

Because while I feel like it would hurt like hell to be away from him, and I would miss him a lot, I know I could do it … but as he said moments ago, I don't want to.

I'm comfortable and content with him, and until that feeling goes away, I'll be with him until we grow sick of each other.

Now, if I could just get out of this weird in-between state, I'm in.

Being in this silent relationship is not it for me.

"You have to wake up, Bella. You have to open your eyes, okay? I know you're trapped in there—I heard you. I know you're still here, and I— "

In the distance, I hear a faint murmur of voices. I expect to not hear anything clearly, but oddly enough, I can. It's as if they're in the next room whispering, and the walls are paper-thin, but I can still hear every word and breath they take.

"We have to help him," Emmett says, his tone sad and guilty. "It's not normal for him to do this— "

"He's helping her the only way he knows how," Carlisle responds. "Who knows? Maybe all she needs is to hear his voice. If she focuses on it, then perhaps she can find her way back."

"Do you really believe she's in there?"

"Why don't you?" Alice shoots back, her tone bordering on annoyed. "How can you doubt it?"

"I agree with Alice," Carlisle chimes in. "You saw his reaction when he heard her thoughts. She's in there; she's just … stuck."

"I'm not really doubting that," Emmett says. When he speaks again, his voice is defensive. "I'm not! I mean, I was skeptical at first, but after seeing Edward flip out like that … it's too weird not to believe. And probably something only Bella can do."

Carlisle laughs lightly. "Probably. So, what's the problem, son?"

"I just … I feel guilty for her being up there. That's my fault. If I hadn't focused only on Rose, if I would have pulled them both out of the way, she wouldn't be up there like that."

I feel bad for the big guy, and I can honestly say I don't blame him for this.

Nor do I blame my mother.

They were both doing what they thought was right at the time. They probably weren't the best decisions ever made in the grand scheme of things, but there's nothing we can do about it now.

Besides, the only person I blame is Royce, and I honestly believe if he hadn't gotten Rose or me that night, then it would have been another one … and who knows if there would have been anything left of us to save.

Anger flares through me at the thought of Royce getting away with this—with allowing him to continue to breathe after hurting us.

Underneath that is panic; if all the Cullens are here with me, then who's watching Dad, Rose, and Jasper?

Taking a moment, I reason with myself.

They must be close by if everyone is here with me. I know Emmett wouldn't have left Rose, and Mom wouldn't have left Dad. The same goes for Alice and Jasper, so I'm sure they're close by, waiting to hear a word from me.

It's frustrating because try as I might, I simply can't get my body to obey me. All I feel is the oppressive weightiness laying heavily upon me, keeping me immobile, and it pisses me off severely.

I want to scream and lash out; to kick and thrash and punch through something, but it all remains in my head … a loud symphony of yelling and frustration only I can hear.

At my side, Edward groans lowly in his throat, his forehead pressed against the side of my neck. "Bella, please," he pleads.

Pulling back and changing the direction of my thoughts to give him a break, I wait until I hear nothing from him again, except for pleas for me to wake up.

I had forgotten Edward can sometimes hear me … which isn't something I'm a fan of; I like my thoughts being mine, of being secret from prying minds and psychic friends.

If that goes away, I'll be severely pissed.

Deciding to test out the theory, I think of Edward's name, asking him if he's become too co-dependent and needs help.

I receive no indication that he's heard me; not a smart-ass retort or a chuckle … so what is he hearing from me, if not my thoughts?

It's another mysterious question I'll need to solve.

Closely, I listen to the voices from somewhere in the house, coming in clearly, as if they were in the room. I've missed a large chunk of the conversation, but I quickly catch up.

"…don't think she'll ever forgive me."

"She will," Alice comforts. "And so will Rosalie; she's just afraid. We all are. We've never been through this."

"Yeah," Emmett responds with a heavy sigh. "Dad, when Bella wakes up, will she remember everything?"

"I'm not sure; with everything Bella has gone through and is continuing to go through, I'm unsure what she'll remember. Why?"

There's a long silence, followed by the sound of fabric shuffling across a hard surface. It's odd, like taking a dry paper towel against a messy wall.

Suddenly, a burst of laughter fills the house, the sound rich and melodic. While it's a beautiful sound, it reverberates in my head, pounding through my skull.

These new senses are good for eavesdropping but not so much for anything else.

"You're scared of her, aren't you?" Alice exclaims, falling into laughter once more.

A thump can be heard moments later as Alice's laughter continues.

At my side, Edward releases a breathy chuckle, his breath fanning over me.

"I am not!" Emmett complains.

"Yes, you are! You're scared! Oh, man. I can't wait for her to kick your ass just because she can!"

"Alice," Carlisle admonishes, though there's no force behind it. "Stop teasing your brother."

"I can't! This is epic! Wait until James and Victoria hear about this … I need to call them. Where's my phone?"

Emmett scoffs. "I'm not afraid. She's a tiny girl; look at these muscles. She can't beat me."

Irritation flares within me. If he thinks I can't wrestle him because of my size, he's definitely got another thing coming, and I plan to show him who's boss.

"Muscles have nothing to do with strength in this case, Emmett," Carlisle supplies. "She'll have her own human blood still in her tissues. She'll be stronger than you for a year."

He receives a heavy sigh in response, and there's another sound of shuffling fabric.

"What is it, son?"

"What if she's pissed at me? What if she's gonna kick my ass. And yes, Alice, I am worried about it. But what if she doesn't forgive me? What if she tells Rosalie not to forgive me? What if Rosalie doesn't forgive me, even if she doesn't say anything? What if she's so pissed with me that she leaves? You know what'll happen, right? Edward will go with her, and the family will be broken, and it'll be my fault."

For the longest minute, there's nothing but silence in and around the house. Strangely, not even sounds from outside can be heard; normally, there'd be birds or squirrels squawking from trees or rushing across the house in search of food.

Here, there's nothing.

There's just stunned silence from everyone here, including me.

I never knew Emmett was worried about my reaction to all of this, let alone knew he could ramble as much as me. I wish there were a way to tell him I'm not upset with him for what happened. I know it wasn't his fault, and honestly, I'm not mad he saved Rose; I actually prefer it that way.

Since there's nothing I can do to reassure him now, I make a note to tell him after I wake.

… After I give him hell for his tiny girl comment.

"That won't happen, Em," Alice says, all traces of teasing gone.

"You don't know that."

"Bella doesn't hold grudges, Emmett," Edward says. "She's a go with the flow type."

Thankfully, he says it lowly, as if he knows that my hearing is super sensitive right now. Maybe he does, and that's why he's being quiet about it. I'm glad he is because I couldn't take it if he shouted.

But who knows; maybe if I got pissed off enough, it'd help me snap out of this state I'm in.

"Until I hear it from her, I'm still gonna worry about it," Emmett replies. He still sounds despondent, but there's a note of hope there too.

"That's fine. But expect her to kick your ass for that tiny girl comment."

Emmett groans, ignoring the chittering of laughter around him.

"When is Eleazar supposed to arrive?" Esme asks, a whirlwind of sound coming in with her. It sounds as if debris follows her, but I can't picture Esme ever leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. "Renee is so distraught about Bella, and so I am, frankly."

Carlisle makes a soothing sound meant to comfort, and slight shuffling noise can be heard shortly after. "She'll be okay, Darling. But Eleazar is on his way; he'll be here later tonight. If anyone can help her, it's him."

I'm extremely curious about this new person being thrown into the mix and how he can help me, and why he seems to be the only one. I don't like the fact that I must rely on a complete stranger whom I've never met to help me get up and moving again.

As if he's sensing my questions, Edward answers me. "Eleazar is one of Carlisle's oldest friends; he used to work in Volterra, with the rulers of our kind, but left once he met his mate. He can sense what gifts another vampire has and how to use them. He's kind of like a computer; he scans you, and then an instructional manual pops in his head. It's not lengthy or detailed, but he gets the gist of it."

"Edward!" Esme scolds from down below, her tongue clicking when everyone else—including Carlisle—laughs at his description.

It is a rather comical description, and in my head, I see a cyborg-looking creature with an eyeball that has red a lazar to scan whatever person he wants.

I highly doubt that's how this guy looks, but honestly, it would be really cool.

8*8*8*8*8

Time passes quickly, and before I know it, there's something crunching outside as a pair of footsteps race closer. Voices that were once silent now murmur exclaimed relief before a low creaking emits throughout the house.

"Eleazar, thank you for coming so quickly," Carlisle greets.

"Of course, my friend," the new voice replies. He has a hint of an accent I can't place, sounding almost Spanish and Italian. He sounds regal and formal, like I imagine royalty would sound. "I just hope I can be of assistance."

"Me too."

"You're sure she's still alive? That everything went well with the transformation?"

Edward growls at his question, and Eleazar immediately apologizes.

"Forgive me, Edward. I merely ask to be sure."

Apparently, Edward doesn't forgive him because he growls louder, a snarl starting to build.

"I'm fairly certain, yes. Edward heard her mind; it's completely different from Didyme."

The silence stretches for a long moment before light as air footsteps race closer, stopping somewhere near me.

"Is this true, Edward? You heard her thoughts?"

At my side, Edward shifts but never moves away. He hesitates in replying, making me wonder what he heard from me if he heard anything at all.

Did he just make up his reaction and his plea for me to stop screaming in my head?

For me, that doesn't make sense; he would have had to hear me to have that reaction. It was too strong, not to mention it happened at the same time all the chaos erupted in my head. It's just too many coincidences for him to not have heard something.

He holds me tighter, his hand gripping my clothes so tightly I can hear the seams strain under the pressure and feel his hands press deeper into my flesh. I'm finding that more and more things are odd now; sounds, smells, touch … it's overwhelming and amazing at the same time.

But it would be better if I could move … or see.

One thing at a time, I guess.

"I didn't hear her thoughts per se. I heard her screaming; I felt the force of her anger and upset. She's in there, Eleazar." After a moment, Edward growls again. "It's not my delusions talking; she's not dead, and I'm not grieving. I heard something from her. I felt it. She's in there, trapped by her own mind. Can you not see her gift?"

Eleazar hums, the light vibration of footsteps coming closer follow suit, but pauses as Edward growls lowly in his chest, warning him away.

"I mean her no harm."

"Forgive him, Eleazar," Carlisle interjects, ever the peacemaker. "You know how it is."

"I really do," the man murmurs a hint of pleasing recollection in his words. "I'm sure we all do. But I must assess her closer, Edward. Something is off here."

He trails off, causing panic from the other Cullens in the house.

"What do you mean?"

"What's wrong?"

"Is she okay?"

"Quiet, please, friends," Eleazar requests, and at once, everyone settles and stills, not even moving an inch.

It's eerie how they do that, and if I hadn't believed in vampires before, I definitely would now. There's no way anyone so still and quiet could ever be human.

"She's blocking me," Eleazar murmurs after a moment. "She's definitely a shield. A strong one too, but there's something more there as well. I can't put my finger on it. But one thing at a time; now, we have to get her out of her head."

"How do you plan on doing that? And how did this happen in the first place?" Edward asks, desperation coming through clearly in his voice.

"Every one of us can agree the transformation is excruciating, Edward. It's painful and never-ending. Add in the shock and trauma of her injuries and the suddenness of her transformation, and it's enough to send anyone into hiding."

Once more, there's nothing but silence as his words sink into everyone's heads.

"So, she trapped herself inside?" Edward holds me tighter as he asks this, his lips gently caressing my temple.

"I believe so. Her shield probably blocked out the pain, and now she has no idea how to control it. Bella," Eleazar says, finally addressing me for the first time since he walked in.

If I could, I would huff and ignore him just to prove a point, but I'm completely at his mercy … and I would like to get out of this prison I've apparently locked myself in.

Once again, I'm finding the things I can do fucking terrific. Now, if I could put other people in this type of state, then that would be cool.

"Do you see anything around you? Like a web? Or a band? Perhaps a clear wall?"

He's asking questions I can't answer, and Edward can't answer for me. I know he doesn't mean actually see since I can't open my eyes, but I'm honestly at a loss about what I'm supposed to be looking for.

I don't "see" any of the things he's mentioning. The only thing I can make out is this heavy oppressiveness weighing down on me.

But I wonder … if I'm a shield like he thinks I am, then would that be it? That feeling? Is it like a weighted blanket, keeping me safe and comforted from the pain I had experienced?

I'm unsure, but I have to try. I'm not going to stay like this for the rest of my life.

I'll surely go nuts then.

"Imagine this web—or whatever you're seeing—stretching out away from you— "

Taking Eleazar's advice, I picture a shimmering translucent blanket covering my body, shrouding me in a light glistening of color. I imagine it lifting away from me, slowly but surely, until it hovers over my body, an inch away, giving a bit of wriggle room.

To my surprise, I feel the heavy sensation slightly, and the pinky finger on my left hand twitches, the muscles jumping and trembling.

Edward stiffens at my side, his body rigid as he sucks in a breath, exhaling my name so softly no one seems to hear it.

Excitement rushes through me at the small movement, but it comes crashing down when that frustrating weight slams back onto me, rendering me immobile once more.

A flash of anger jolts through my system, and heat sears through me as my annoyance grows. At my side, Edward whimpers, pressing his forehead into my neck while he mumbles my name.

I wish I knew what he heard in my head, but whatever it is, it must not be good if his reaction is anything to go by.

There's a cluster of voices as multiple people pour into the room, asking questions that blend into one incoherent stream of noise. Even though I can't hear them, I know it's about me, or more specifically, what Edward is hearing from me.

"The same as before. It's just … frustration and anger. Like someone turned up a radio that has nothing but static," he answers through gritted teeth.

Eleazar calls for silence once more, prompting me to focus on the web around me, and I intend to do just that.

Pushing everything else away, I focus on the "blanket" covering me, willing it to rise away from me. It's frustrating to focus on something you can't see but can feel … and it's not as easy as Eleazar makes it out to be.

Even though I picture this blanket rising from my body, I don't feel it. It takes an enormous amount of concentration and patience to feel this sensation moving away from me even slightly.

Two traits I don't have, but I know I'll need to learn quickly.

Once more, I focus on this sensation, putting all my energy and attention into it, hoping it'll work this time.

Several hours pass as I work on it; I know this because several people—some familiar, some new—enter and leave the room, telling Edward the different times of day and how he should feed.

I almost lose my concentration each time someone comes in, but luckily, the more I try, the better I get at focusing on pulling this weight from my body.

After the fourth time someone enters, Edward and Eleazar—the latter staying with us for some reason—both threaten to lock the door if they don't stop intruding.

My throat burns like I've swallowed something gritty, reminding me of the time I had a bad cold when I was twelve; my throat was so sore it hurt so much just to swallow the littlest bit.

Keeping my focus, I imagine the weight pulling off me, rising high above my head and hovering over me like a shimmering blanket. I will it away, not wanting that feeling to return.

Suddenly, I feel a slight pop in my head, and my eyes shoot open as my body jerks.

There's a low gasp, and then, ever so slowly, a pair of black eyes with deep scarlet around the outer edges come into view.

I tense, uncomfortable with knowing what that means—that this person has fed on humans recently.

But who?

And why are they so damn close to me?

Before I push them away, my gaze drifts upward, and I spot the familiar mess of copper hair that can only belong to one person.

"Hey," I breathe, my voice sounding strange and light—almost chiming-like—even to my own ears. "You look like shit."

I'm not lying; his clothes are wrinkled and dirty, and his face is drawn and pale, even for him. Dark, purple shadows circle his eyes, giving him zombie vibes to the max.

He laughs, bending his head down to press his lips into mine, his sweet breath fanning over my face. His hands frame my cheeks, his thumbs brushing against my temples. "Bella. I missed you so much."

"I— "

Before I can finish, there's a stampede of footsteps rushing our way. My back tenses and I fly up, shooting myself into the furthest corner, near what looks like a closet.

Bodies pile in the doorway, their faces familiar.

They're the Cullens; Emmett and Alice are in the front, and Carlisle and Esme are in the back, anticipation, and trepidation, along with awe and shock on their faces, respectively.

Behind them, there are a few unfamiliar faces, their hair light blonde, their features just as perfect and flawless as the Cullens.

The question about who these people are, rests on my lips, ready to spill out, but it's stopped when I see my reflection in the mirror from across the room.

In the blink of an eye, I'm standing in front of the mirror, my reflection—or what I think is my reflection—staring back at me.

"What. The. Fuck. Happened?" I question through gritted teeth, flinging a finger toward the mirror.

It shatters upon impact, the shards falling around my feet as everyone around me stares, wide-eyed and terrified.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

I'll try to update as soon as I can!