A/N: As always, please read and review!

Trigger warning: discussion of SA, drug use, PTSD, etc

Chapter 18: Pills (BPOV)

I'm sure it was a dream. The strange feeling of ease as my feet climbed the creaky staircases was wrong. I felt almost as if I was floating through the dull hallways of Charlie's house. Walking with ease was not my strong suit and even know I was well aware of this fact, my body pushed myself forward with a bizarre sense of comfort until I was facing my old bedroom door. The oak beckoned me, encouraging me to twist the scratched, metal knob and step inside. Knowing what would lay behind the door did not deter me and, with confidence, I pushed the door open.

Knowing hadn't helped me. The panic and fear surged through me like fire, sending suffocating smoke through my lungs and jarring pain through my limbs.

"Bella." Edward's smooth voice rung in my ears the same second as my eyes landed on his body detached on the floor. Detached the same way James had been at the hands of Alice, Jasper, and Emmett.

"Bella."

My eyes snap open, sending searing pain through my head. "Oh." I moan, squeezing my eyes shut.

"It was just a dream." Edward's smooth voice is close enough that I can feel his breath on my skin. I shiver involuntarily and Edward's arms wrap around me tighter, holding me to him.

He was alive. It was just a dream. For now.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." My voice is a hoarse whisper smothered by his shirt. I can feel the moisture pooling behind my eyelids and all at once, I'm overwhelmed with hatred and guilt. Hatred that my body is reacting the way it does and guilt that Edward is so consumed by my well-being.

"No, you're not." Edward shifts beside me. "Look at me, Bella, please."

It takes effort I don't have to open my eyes. Edward is staring at me, his eyes masked with concern.

"You're not okay." He murmurs. "It's alright to say that."

"What good will that do?" I mumble in response, feeling the moisture leaking from my eyes now. I pull my gaze away from Edward, but he stops me, using his hand to keep my face pointed toward him.

"You can stop pretending." His breath fans my face as he speaks, letting me soak up his scent. "You can fall to shambles and allow us – allow me – to help you, Bella. You won't have to carry the burden for us all."

"I can't."

"Tell me what your dream was about." Edward requests, wiping my cheeks with his thumb.

I bite my lip, my mind floating back to the terrifying image of Edward broken across my bedroom floor. I blink, trying to clear the image from my head. Edward is beside me, perfectly safe and alive. He's touching me. His fingers brushing over my lips. My mind instantly floats back to the day before. We sat before the window. Our bodies pressed together, his hands in my hair, his lips on mine.

"It doesn't matter right now." I whisper earnestly, my heart swelling with the desire I had yesterday. I look at him fully now, judging his expression. Seeing if he wanted me like that now, if we could try again. But his eyes are hard, raging with emotion I don't truly understand. It brings images of my nightmare back to mind.

"It matters to me."

"I can't." I was losing my composure just rethinking it.

"Try." Edward insists. He presses his lips to mine, his lips cold and guarded on mine. I'm hesitant, too consumed by my dream to respond to his touch the way I want to. "Burden me, Bella. Talk to me." He whispers, his voice warm. I press my face against his chest, not wanting to look at him at all. "Bella, would you, please?"

"It's horrible."

"Which is why you shouldn't deal with it alone."

I bite my lip, considering his words. Was there any point in burdening Edward with my dreams and anxiety when he couldn't do anything about it? Or worse, would he try to do something about it which would ultimately lead to his demise? There would be no waking from that nightmare.

"Later." I mumble quietly, forcing myself out of his arms. My head feels heavy on top of my dizzy body as I sit up. Edward sighs besides me, following my movements as I sit. The large glass wall was incredibly reflective. I could see Edward in perfect detail as he sat near watching me. And I could see small figure of myself, curled in the blanket. I pull my gaze away before my eyes land on something that would be absolutely detrimental to my control.

It was morning the last time I had been awake. So early in the morning that it was dark. My mind, almost instantly, recalls the dramatic events of the day.

"Is Jasper okay?" my hand flying to my mouth as I gasp. When I turn to look at Edward, his eyes are narrowed suspiciously at me.

"Jasper? He's fine." Edward mutters dismissively.

"I completely forgot." I moan, dropping my head into my hands. "Poor Jasper."

"Nothing happened to Jasper." His voice is bleak when he responds to my words. He shifts, looking over his shoulder at me. "Why are you so worried about him?"

"Oh." I could've sworn he had left the house last night on Carlisle's order. My head aches as I try to recollect the events of the previous few hours. "He left, though. . ." I'm sure something must have happened to him.

"Bella," Edward's voice is hesitant as he speaks. "do you not remember what happened?"

Everything was a bit fuzzy as I stare back at Edward. I couldn't have been dreaming the whole thing up. I hadn't had ever had a dream as peculiar as Carlisle demanding Jasper to leave the room without reason. Carlisle rarely took a tone like that. I shiver, remembering the way he spoke when Jacob had brought me to the hospital. Carlisle's soft voice and calm nature was a hallmark of his character – these last few weeks had challenged that.

"I think so." I touch my fingers to my lips, trying to remember.

"Bella, you started bleeding." He said, his voice uneven and strained. "Your headache . . . Carlisle did some tests. . . Do you remember that?"

Then it all came back to me. The IV I desperately didn't want and the strange sounds of the machine and the immense pain in the back of my head that I was positive would kill me. My body convulses with a shiver.

"I think so."

Edward nods, though I could still see how anxious he was. "You're anemic. When your blood pressure got too high because of your headache," he pauses, watching me apprehensively, "you started bleeding."

That's not good. I was never overly conscious of my health, but I never had anything major to worry about. Anemia seemed dangerous. High blood pressure also seemed dangerous.

"Oh."

Edward picks up my hand gingerly in his, kissing the back of it. "You don't have to worry about any of that, you know. We'll take care of it."

"I know." I gulp, swallowing thickly. Anemia didn't sound good and if I started bleeding from high blood pressure, that probably meant I needed to not be stressed. But being anemic was making me feel stressed.

Edward sighs besides. "Carlisle can explain it all later, alright?"

I nod in response, feeling a bit numb as I did so.

"Jasper mentioned you feel calmer when you are outside. Would you like to go for a walk?" Edward questions. "If you're up to something a bit farther, we can hike to—"

"Yes." My voice sounds foreign as I breathe the word, a strong – and strange – sense of relief flowing through me. A hike to our meadow. A normal activity. A pre-attack activity. That was exactly what I wanted.

Edward chuckles quietly as I throw my legs off the bed, nearly running to Edward's chest of drawers to retrieve my clothes. Alice had displaced his clothes at some point, replacing the entire chest with clothes I had never seen before but were certainly my size and style.

I'm not sure where his clothes had gone – or where these ones had come from – but it hadn't seemed to bother anyone except me. Now, I couldn't be bothered to worry about it at all as I yanked a long-sleeved shirt and light jeans from the drawers. I was utterly grateful Alice had thought to buy clothes I would actually wear. The majority of the materials were soft, cotton, and light. Some fabric made me shudder at the touch – I quickly learned to shove those to the side.

I'm about to turn for the bathroom when Edward's ice hands touch my waist.

"I'll be waiting downstairs." He murmurs, pressing his lips to my head. "Take your time."

He disappears from the room before I can respond.

In his absence, I work quickly. My heart races with excitement as I yank off my old clothes, stepping under the hot spray of the shower. The normalcy of using my strawberry shampoo, mixed with the excitement of hiking with Edward, makes me inexplicably happy. The only thing reminding me that things aren't normal is my cast and showering in Edward's tub instead of mine.

Part of me was conflicted – wanting to stay and shampoo my hair another few times to enjoy the familiar scent and emotion. An even greater part of me was scurrying out of the shower as quickly as possible to meet Edward downstairs and get on with our plans. Edward, it seemed, was much more important than my shampoo because it was difficult staying under the spray until all the suds had washed out of my hair.

My body aches against the pillowy towel, but the pain seems muted against my endorphins. I hardly give my aching ribs a thought as I tugged on my jeans and shirt. I manage to force my arms up, drying my hair as best as I could in the damp towel. My muscles aches, having not been using like these in the past few weeks. I toss the thought away – I wouldn't be thinking like that today. Not on our hike to our meadow.

When I step out of the bathroom, Esme is waiting with a hairbrush in hand.

"I thought you might need some help with your hair, dear." Esme smiles sweetly. She corals me to the chair, running the brush through my tangles efficiently. She tsks under her breath, muttering something about me catching a cold with such wet hair.

My legs bounce as I wait, and I think she noticed my impatience because she works quickly to dry my hair.

"Have fun." She hums, patting my shoulder.

Edward is waiting patiently with Carlisle and Emmett in the family room when I finally descend the stairs. He breaks away from their conversation, smiling at me.

"Ready?"

"I think so."

Edward, who seemed like he hadn't moved at all, was now stranding in front of me as he held up my sweater for me to slip my arms into. I accept it gratefully, zipping it up in the front. He brushes a damp strand of my hair behind my ear.

"Let's go." He leads me quietly, his hand on the small of my back, out the front door. I point to the garage, confused.

"Are we walking the whole way?" I ask him, incredulous. "I don't think I can. . ."

"You won't be walking at all." He flashes me a crooked smile, pulling me into his arms and throwing me over his shoulder.

A small gasp of shock escapes me as his fluid movements knock the breath out of me. I close my eyes almost instinctively, ducking my head behind Edward's shoulder. I haven't run with him in a long time, and though I'm getting used to the way it knocks the breath out of me and makes me feel flightless, it's still unnerving.

It feels like eternity and no time at all before he's stopped and steadily setting me on the soft ground of the meadow. My legs are a bit wobbly.

"I haven't heard your heart beating like this in a long time." He murmurs, his fingers brushing over my collarbone. I shiver against his cold touch. "It's so happy today."

"I'm sure you miss it."

"More than you know." Edward hums, taking my hand in his. "Shall we?" he gestures towards the open patch of land huddled between the thick growth of the forest. The air is chilly around us, and the partially budding flowers are all tilting in the breeze. But it's undeniably our meadow and it's incredibly inviting.

We walk slowly to the middle of the field, dropping to sit face-to-face. Edward's smiling crookedly at me, and the expression makes my heart swell. He hadn't heard my heart beating the way it was in a long time, and I certainly hadn't seen that expression in just as long.

"What is it about being outside that makes you feel better?" Edward questions gently. His eyes held the contentment of his smile. He lays down in the grass, closing his eyes with a happy sigh.

I shrug slowly, pulling my legs to my chest. I didn't want to talk about any of the attack right now. I didn't want to contaminate the outside with it. "I'm alone."

Edward doesn't respond immediately and I'm too scared to look at him to see if his expression has changed at all at my words. "Less congested, is it? Fewer prying ears."

"I think you guys try to give me privacy if I'm outside."

"That's true." Edward agrees. "But, almost always, you're outside with someone else. Esme or Alice, usually."

"Or you."

"Only once."

"Twice now." I correct.

Edward opens his eyes, shooting me a smile. "I did forget about now."

"The air is easier to breathe."

"I agree with that." Edward sighs. He's quiet for a long moment, before smiling again. "I went to Denali that one week after I first met you. There's something exquisitely relaxing about being alone in the mountains."

"So, the backyard didn't do it for you?"

"I wasn't necessarily bound by the limitations you were." He laughs. It's like musical bells, chiming perfectly. The sound makes my stomach hurt, and I know it's because I've been so deprived of the angelic sound. "Maybe I should take you to the mountains."

"I wouldn't mind."

"We could, quite literally, run away from our problems." His tone has a teasing edge to it – it's excited and it makes my heart swell.

"I like that idea." I drop my gaze to Edward's still form. He's gazing up at me with an expression I don't recognize.

"What are you really thinking?" Edward traces his fingers over the inside of my wrist. "Your heart is so fast, love."

I breathe out slowly. Didn't breathing calm a racing heart? "I'm not sure. . . I – My mind seems strangely empty."

"Hmm. . . Interesting."

"Would we go alone?"

"I don't see why not." Edward sits up then, lounging on his elbows. "Even better than the mountains, I'll take you to Isle Esme."

Isle Esme. That sounded familiar. I didn't know where it was from. Just like I didn't remember what had happened yesterday with Jasper.

I swallow thickly, trying to force a strange bit of panic down my throat. There was nothing to panic about now. I was fine. I was happy. My heart was happy, according to Edward. I was in our meadow with him. Everything is normal.

"What's that?" my voice sounds strangled, but Edward doesn't seem fazed by it, even if he does notice.

"Carlisle bought it for Esme decades ago. It's a small, remote Island off of Rio de Janeiro." He pauses in his words, seemingly not at all with me right now. "It's gorgeous, Bella. The beaches, the sand. Absolutely incredible."

The panic seems to settle deeper, then. Esme had told me about the island during my stay in the hospital. During the worst day of my stay there. I stop breathing, listening to him.

"When I take you, you'll see. You'll never want to leave." He murmurs. He looks up at the sky, narrowing his eyes at the blanket of clouds. It was thin in some areas – thinner than I had seen in a long time. "It rains every day there, for a short period of time. But the sun shines anyway."

"That's tropical weather for you." My voice is hoarse as I speak.

Edward pulls me toward him, kissing my jaw. "Try to breathe, love. Nothing is going to get you out here."

"That's not what I'm afraid of." I wasn't at all afraid of anyone getting me – it was Edward I was worried about. It was the memories that escaped my brain. It was the sudden fear of forgetting the version of him before all of this happened.

"That's what I've heard." There was a sour edge to his tone as he pulled me onto his lap. I let him move me, adjusting my body between his limbs. There was a strange sense of sweetness and peace between us, despite my somewhat haggard breath. "Don't be ludicrous, love."

"Too late."

"Maybe." Edward grimaces, hiding a small smile as he holds me against him. "Or maybe I can change your mind."

My breath hitches as his hand curves over my elbow, moving over my ribs and towards my hips. The movement is slow and steady, and it makes my body shudder. His lips are moving at my jaw – brushing, never quite touching. I can feel his breath echoing against my skin as he works his way down to my throat. At the base of my throat, his lips finally make contact.

This was different from yesterday. This was definitely something we hadn't done since before the attack. His kisses are light and slow as he moved against my skin. They held a sort of intensity that made my breaths stop. Before I could even make sense of it, he had pulled my face towards his, pressing his frozen lips to mine, forcing air into my lungs. My heart was hammering so loudly in my ears that I was difficult for me to do anything, much less make sense of what was happening.

I tremble against his body, not from the chill of his skin on me, but from the power in the way he touched me. The kisses don't stop as he releases me for a breath. In fact, I could hardly breathe at all as he moved toward my neck, laying gentle pecks in trails toward my throat. My hands shake as they push his face towards me, forcing his lips to pay more attention to mine. My lips part against his, and slowly, he blows cool, fragrant air into my lungs. His arm, straining me closer to him, wrapped tighter around my waist and then, all at once, he lets go.

"Better?" he breathes quietly.

My head was spinning, and air was coming into my body too quickly for me to even process it before I pushed it back out. "I think so?"

"You've been saying that a lot today."

"I'm not really sure about anything right now." My breaths seem shallow and loud.

Edward chuckles and the sound sends my heart into a frenzy. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually. You always do." He pulls away from me after laying a single kiss on my lips. As he lays back down in the damp grass, he pulls my hand into his. "You have a way of astounding us all, Bella."

"I don't understand how."

"Don't underestimate yourself, love." He murmurs. "Bella, I don't want you feeling ashamed or scared of me." He strings his fingers through mine. "You can tell me no at any time, and I'll respect it."

I am quiet, not knowing how to respond to him. I can still feel the cold sensation of my body where he had run his hands delicately over me and where he had skillfully placed his kisses.

"I know." I murmur. But I didn't really know. We had never had this conversation before. We never needed to. I trusted him – I trusted everyone, really.

"I love you, Bella."

I whisper some version of those words, my mind far away from the present. Edward doesn't say anything to me. He merely smiles, laying in the grass on his back. I slowly lower myself to the ground next to him, pushing myself into his arms.

In my mind, despite resisting the urge to do so, I was comparing them to the kisses and touches I had felt several weeks ago. The difference between love and revenge was absurd. The touch of revenge haunted me every single time I closed my eyes and while I had thought they would haunt my touch with Edward, I hadn't thought of them at all while Edward kissed me. I forgot how incredible and gentle his kisses were, even the most urgent and desperate ones.

Now, lying beside him while wrapped in his arms, I was missing the way his cold lips felt on mine and the way his fingers glided over my hips. I could almost feel the ghost of them prickling over my skin teasingly. I wanted more. I wanted Edward.

Edward seems too content for me to bother him with words when I am finally capable of pulling myself from my thoughts. I lay silently besides him, enjoying the sweet embrace of our closeness in our special place until the hidden sun starts dipping below the trees, casting long golden shadows over the meadow. Only then does Edward sit up, suggesting we go home before I get too cold.

The run back is just as quick, only now it's eerie with the shadows of the trees that I can't quite make out with my inferior eyes. Edward sets me down on the porch when we arrive home.

"Welcome home." Edward whispers. He's holding me tightly, and I'm finding so much comfort in his touch that I don't want him to let go. "Do you want to stay out here for a bit?"

I nod, and he pulls me along with him towards the swing that I've essentially claimed as mine. I'm not sure I have seen anyone else use it.

"Are you hungry or thirsty?"

"No."

Edward murmurs gently, "We can go again tomorrow."

"That would be nice." Edward is tracing small designs on my hands the way he was doing before in the meadow. "Or we could just escape now. Run away from everything."

Edward laughs quietly. "That's a fine idea."

"So, we can go?" There was too much hope in my voice, and not enough excitement in Edward's face. The closeness I felt between the two of us was slipping was with every step we took. It felt cold besides Edward now. Cold, lonely, and frightening, and I shiver from the iciness between us.

He shrugs, his voice bleak, almost tired sounding, as he speaks. "We have time for it all, Bella."

"Not much time."

He tenses his jaw as I speak. "Have you changed your mind?"

"No" I mumble, too quickly. My heart hammers unsteadily in my chest. "But I don't think I'll be graduating at this point."

Edward grimaces, looking away from me. "How's your headache?"

I hadn't thought about my head until Edward mentioned it. Now that he had said something, I was acutely aware of the light throbbing at the back of my skull. "It's fine."

"There's not much use in lying, you know." Edward's voice felt strained, and the pauses between our lines felt awkward and tense. I didn't like this. It felt like we were walking on eggshells, both afraid of the other person breaking in their fragility.

I take a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "Mind over matter."

Edward snaps his teeth together. "That doesn't apply right now." Edward grits. I shrug and Edward just shakes his head at me. His hand loosens over mine, pulling away as he stands up. "Esme wants me inside. Do you mind sitting alone for a bit?"

"No."

Edward grimaces as he nods in response. He hesitates, confliction evident in his expression as he stares at me. "Alice wouldn't let you fail out. You're still on track to graduate, Bella. . . If that's really, truly, what you want."

The astonishment I'm feeling at his words is much more captivating than the underlying meaning behind them.

Edward hesitates for a moment, then speaks. "Alice convinced your teachers to let you do your work from home. It wasn't too hard to persuade your teachers. They can hardly ever say no to Alice, and even if they did, Jasper remedied that nicely."

I frown. I hadn't seen a single assignment or textbook around the house. "I haven't been doing any work."

Edward offers a sly smile. "Alice has, with some help from us all. She frequently solicits advice on how to sound more. . . you."

Alice was doing my work . . . With help from everyone else?

"Why?"

"You only graduate high school once. For the first time, at least."

"You're being very . . . pleasant about all of this. Have you changed your mind?"

Edward shrugs. "I can't live without you, Bella, even if it means I am being incredibly selfish." He doesn't say anything else as he slips into the house, closing the door lightly behind him.

It is entirely quiet now that Edward and I aren't conversing, but I'm replaying the conversation over and over again in my mind. He had been so . . . cordial about it. So accepting of my decision, almost as if he agreed with it after all this time. The whole conversation makes me feel strangely nervous about the transformation.

I shiver, whether from the cold or from remembering the pain of James' bite to my hand. But, at the same time, I'm swelling with an incredible sense of happiness and, even, pride that Edward wants me next to him for eternity.

The door opens lightly, and I turn, expecting it to be Edward. Instead, Carlisle steps out into the glowing yard, his pale skin illuminated by the porch lights.

"How was your trip, Bella?" he asks softly, coming to stand by the railing of the wooden porch in front of me.

His dry expression makes my heart thumps unevenly in my chest, all previous thoughts and feelings forgotten.

"Fine."

"Good."

Carlisle doesn't ask me to expand on my short answer, for which I'm grateful. His short answer keeps my heart in a frenzy.

"Forgive me, but I overheard your conversation with Edward just now." He leans against the porch railing, pausing to assess me. "About leaving."

"Oh." Suddenly, remorse fills me. I can't imagine how ungrateful I must sound – to be begging Edward to run away when everyone here had done so much to take care of me. Gravity weighs heavily on my eyes, pulling to them to the floor as I remember Carlisle had quit his job to take care of me. "I'm sorry . . I – I didn't mean to be ungrateful – "

"No, Bella – I'm not trying to scold you at all." Carlisle shakes his head, interrupting me. "Can I ask you one question and you vow to answer me honestly?"

"I think that depends on the question."

Carlisle smiles at my words, then his expression turns serious. "Tell me why you don't trust me."

I gulp at the enormity of his question. "I do." I whisper, but it sounds like a lie – even to my own ears.

"Bella," Carlisle kneels down so we're face-to-face. "You have never hesitated to let me help you in the past. Why do you hesitate now?"

"I . . . I don't."

I don't know. I can't finish my thought. I don't know.

Carlisle's eyes are soft as they bare into mine. "As this: what resemblance do I bear to your attacker?"

His question catches me off guard, and I physically recoil from him as he says it. I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to think about this. I want this to go away. I want to go away. I pull my knees to my chest, burying my face down. I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to be here.

They are nothing alike. Carlisle with his soft voice, gentle touch, kind eyes is nothing like my attacker. Except in all the ways that he is. Blonde hair, pale skin. . . Eyes I know were once blue. Muscles indued with strength that held me down. Syringes and vials filled with medicines to calm me, to sedate me, to kill me.

"You're not him." I whisper, whether to myself or to Carlisle I'm not sure.

"In what ways am I?" Carlisle's voice is a gentle whisper. "Tell me, Bella. It's okay."

"You're not."

"I ordered a sedative in the hospital. Whether you remember it or not, I did that to you shortly after someone else did something similar." A shiver rolls down my spine, remembering the ferocity in Carlisle's voice as he doled out the order for a sedative. "Do you know the difference between my action and his?"

Carlisle waits a moment, the silence nauseating. I close my eyes, hot tears burning my cheeks.

"I did it to help you, to protect you." Carlisle's voice pulls me. "What other parallels are there?"

"You're not the same."

"You very well know this in your mind, Bella. Tell me why you had to convince yourself of it."

It's a long moment where there is no sound but the rush of blood in my ears and the irregular rhythm of my breaths. It's the soundtrack to my thoughts, trying to work up the courage to speak.

"Your hair." I mumble. "Same color."

Carlisle nods. "I am proud of you for the trust you have, in spite of that."

"You held me down . . . Before you put me to sleep."

Carlisle nods, looking remorseful. "Yes, I did. I broke your trust unintentionally that day, and I am truly sorry."

"I understand why." I mumble. "I was hurt. . ."

"While your mind understands, your trauma does not." Carlisle murmurs. "Here's the terrible thing about trauma: it follows you. No matter where you go. This trauma is a trauma of the mind. Thank you for telling me, Bella."

I can't respond to him. He talks about my trauma like it's a living, breathing organism. Sitting inside my body, choking my lungs and squeezing my heart and numbing my mind.

He squeezes my hand gently in his before releasing it. "What Edward started discussing with you this morning. . . I'd like to continue that conversation if you don't mind."

Oh. Anemia. Stress. Bleeding. I didn't want to continue that conversation at all.

"I'm anemic and my blood pressure is high." I state plainly, as if I'm reciting from a science textbook.

"Yes." Carlisle agrees easily. "That is one part of it. All your nightmares and insomnia, lack of appetite. . . "

"Can high blood pressure and anemia cause that?" I wonder quietly. Phil had issues with high blood pressure, but he never showed any symptoms like the ones Carlisle was mentioning. I frown, trying to think harder. If Phil was having nightmares and insomnia, would he even mention that to me? I never noticed any issues in his appetite. Then again, I wasn't sure I had spent enough time living with him and Renee to know his habits.

Carlisle hesitates for a moment. "That's all PTSD, Bella. Did you know that?"

"I have PTSD?" I try to control how shocked I'm feeling, but I don't quite manage to do it.

Carlisle nods. "It's just a fancy term, Bella. We talked about how your headaches were stress-induced and that's essentially all PTSD is. It can influence a lot of your behaviors."

"I guess it makes sense." I'm oddly calm considering what Carlisle is telling me. My mind and body feel numb. I try not to think about it too much as I wrap my arms tightly around my torso.

"Are you alright, Bella?" Carlisle questions.

Not at all. I nod slowly at him, wrapping my arms tighter. My blood felt like ice inside my veins.

Carlisle grimaces, accepting my half-lie. "It gets better, slowly. You won't feel crippled by panic forever."

"Just for the rest of my human life."

"You don't know that." Carlisle disagrees lightly. "It will get better."

"What does the anemia have to do with it?" I mumble, my curiosity overcoming my aversion of the conversation. An anemia discussion might be easier than a nightmare and insomnia discussion. Anemia wasn't a result of the attack, I don't think.

"Anemia isn't a symptom of PTSD, generally. I'm not sure why you're experiencing it." Carlisle admits evenly. "We'll take care of it as we care for everything else."

Carlisle's eyes narrow at me as I start laughing, and I think I've finally lost my own mind and sanity. "Edward always told me I was a danger magnet. Now I'm in danger of bleeding without having even done anything in a house full of vampires."

"I suppose I can see the irony in that." Carlisle's smile is too polite, and I know he doesn't find humor in the situation at all. My condition must be much worse than he's letting on. "If we can keep your blood pressure under control, we won't have to worry about blood at all."

"That doesn't sound easy."

Carlisle grimaces. "It would be," He says slowly, measuring my reaction. "if you would be willing to take some medicine to help with your anxiety."

His words send a jolt of shock through me and my humor is cut short as panic easily sets in. "No." I whisper, shaking my head. "I don't want anything."

"Nothing that will incapacitate you." Carlisle insists. "Just to put you at ease. Can you trust me enough to agree to that?"

"Not right now." I mumble. I would take something later. Much, much later. Maybe just before the transformation – to placate Edward, at the very least. Carlisle could give me morphine like he talked about once and I would bite my own tongue and take it because nothing would harm me as a vampire and no one would ever leave me alone during my transformation.

"Is there something you need to talk about regarding all of this?" Carlisle wonders.

"I don't want anything."

"I understand you don't, Bella. I'm sorry I'm essentially forcing your hand at this point, but I can't let you continue like this."

"I'm fine."

The nightmares were fine. I was eating enough. I was getting better – my body hadn't collapsed on me when I went out today like it did when I went with Alice. Edward staying home, and he wasn't going to leave anymore, and we were getting better. He kissed me today and touched me in a way he hadn't in so long. I hadn't had a panic attack in . . . enough days that I didn't remember the last time I had a panic attack. Carlisle said my panic attacks were getting better.

"I'm fine, Carlisle. I'm okay." I tell him, but I'm sounding a little hysterical even to my own ears. "I'm better now."

"You can't sleep, sweetheart. You can't eat anything at all. I'm not sure you're registering how unhealthy this is becoming. Let us help you."

"I'm getting better." I argue. "You said my panic attacks were getting better." I can feel my voice getting more and more distant as I speak, and I'm trying not to get lost in the buzzing in my ears.

"They are, but your headaches are only getting worse. Your panic is only changing forms, sweetheart. It's not going away."

"You said it would get better!" I gasp. My throat was hurting, and I swallow firmly, trying to put away the aching. It doesn't go away.

Carlisle accepts my accusation easily, his expression not changing at all. "It's not going away, yet." He corrects.

"It won't go away with medicine, Carlisle. It will only get worse." I hiss, pulling my legs towards my chest. My chest felt empty. "It will only be worse."

"Why is that?"

"I'll be trapped, don't you realize that?" I cry. "I won't be able to do anything, and it will just sit inside me. It won't go anywhere. It just sits inside."

His expression changes then. I recognize the sympathy is his eyes as he crouches down in front of me. "That's what Rohypnol does to you, Bella." He presses his hand to mine, to the one holding my legs to my hollow torso. I shiver against his touch. "Rohypnol incapacitates you. And with the weak amount you had in your system, you felt it all, didn't you?"

I can't respond. I'm shivering.

"I won't do that to you, Bella. I won't give you anything against your will or hold you down until you take it, do you understand that?" I feel weak as I nod my head. "I won't give you anything that will sedate you or keep you trapped."

"There's nothing else."

"That's not true at all." Carlisle hums quietly. "You know that. I've given you medicine before."

"I don't want needles."

"No needles." Carlisle reaches behind him, producing a small, clear cup. I breathe in sharply, eyeing the little white tablet laying dangerously inside the cup. "You take it on your time, Bella. Make it your own decision." He puts the cup on the swing next to me, standing up.

I shudder away from the cup, almost as if the whole thing would reach out and attack me.

"I can't take them."

"Yes, you can." Carlisle nods. "You know that I wouldn't hurt you. You know that even when I gave you medicine yesterday I didn't do anything without your permission."

He's right. My memories are fuzzy as I think back on it, but I remember Carlisle talking to me before sticking me in the loud machine. Edward was there, too, promising he wouldn't leave me.

Another cup of water appears besides the pill cup and it takes me a moment to realize that Edward is here with us and he had brought the water. I'm staring at the little cup for so long that, by the time I look up, Edward and I are alone on the porch.

"You can do this, Bella." Edward murmurs, tracing his fingers over my cheek.

"Stay."

"As long as you need me to."

"Do you promise?"

"I do." Edward swears quietly.

My hand is shaking beyond control as I reach out for the little cup. The incredible tremors in my hand knocks over the cup, sending the pill through the cracks of the wooden swing and I sob quietly, frustrated and feeling utterly miserable. Edward is quick, though, and he's caught it in his palm and is holding it up to me to take. My breaths are sounding more and more like sobs and as he presses the tablet into my hand. I shudder against it, remembering the agony that I experienced under his body.

I do my best to hold back my tears as I open my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut. The weight of the pill is heavy on my tongue, and Edward is quick to press the edge of a glass cup to my lips, encouraging me to drink. I want to claw my throat as the pill slips down.

"That's it, love." Edward kisses my temple. "You're perfectly fine and safe."

"Don't leave me." My voice is held by the fear in my voice. Edward pulls me into his arms, holding my tightly.

"I won't."

I close my eyes against his chest, succumbing as the fear of the little white pill inside me takes over. Edward does nothing but hold me and kiss my temple as I cry. He utters words that are too slippery for my ears to catch on to and runs his fingers over my back in movements that make me shiver while I cry and cry until I'm unable to produce another tear and exhaustion overtakes me.