AN: I got positive reviews about the Esme chapter, but I won't pop another one of those for at least a few Bella POVs. I'm not sure if I can tackle an Edward POV yet. There are certain parts that I can see, but it's hard to put them all together. Anyway... enjoy.

"Please drop it," he said in what I didn't doubt was a quiet and dangerous tone.

"Will you promise to explain it later?"

"Fine."

I didn't believe him for a second. The van moved further out of the way and I saw people in bright green safety vests – the EMTs - tumbling towards us. I kept my eyes firmly on Edward. What would he say had happened?

Edward vehemently refused any assistance from the EMTs, saying he'd not been injured, but that when he'd pulled me down I'd hit my head. Traitor. I scowled at him – or at least tried to – the EMTs were in the way. No doubt checking my vitals and asking me all sorts of questions. I tried to rein in my thoughts and focus on them, on who was asking what. I was totally unsuccessful. I suddenly stopped them all and began blurting out every answer to every question I thought they could have possibly asked.

"My name is Isabella Marie Swan, my birthday is September thirteenth, I'm in the high school parking lot and was almost hit by a van, I do not have a concussion, and all this fuss is extremely disorienting!" More than one person was trying to talk to me again and I sighed in defeat. Maybe it would be easier to pretend I had a concussion. I closed my eyes and rested my head back against my truck. I jumped at the first touch on my skin, only moments later. My ears were still ringing, but I could hear more muffled voices. Like little blurbs of voice you hear when you fast forward or rewind a song. I opened my eyes again, looking at the EMT in front of me. I could have sworn I recognized his face from somewhere. Probably one of my childhood trips to the ER. I focused on his lips, answering his, and only his questions. Answering one person was better than no one I supposed.

Suddenly I could see blue and red flashes of light. Had the ambulance decided to turn on its lights again? Was the driver of the van that badly injured? Suddenly my father pushed his way forwards. I grinned at him, and stood up, however I slipped slightly on the ice and the EMTs quickly wrapped me into a stretcher. They tried to put a neck brace on me and I cussed a little more fluidly than Charlie had probably ever heard me swear. I thought he looked like he was going to pass out with worry. Charlie began to sign What and I quickly shook my head.

"I'm completely fine Cha - Dad." I was nearly interrupted by an EMT trying to re-affix my neck brace. I grabbed hold of it and glared fiercely at him. "You try that one more time and I'll bite your hand."

I looked at Edward, who was calmly climbing in beside the stretcher they were rolling me on. He was laughing. I turned my head away, scowling at the sky, and then the ceiling in the ambulance. My heart rate started to go up as we drove. I was trying not to panic, after all – I was in a damn ambulance. If there was an accident I'd literally be surrounded by people ready to save me. I still slid around ever so slightly on some turns as we made our way to the hospital and I gripped the metal of the stretcher hard enough that the lone ring on my index finger was catching some air. I began to force my breath to slow down. It was only a couple of minutes to the hospital. I'd be fine. The EMTs took my silence and lack of struggle as consent to continue taking measurements and probing my head for injuries. I focused intently on a line in the roof, keeping my breathing calm as a pressure cuff and thermometer were shoved at me. G. I was signing in my head, going through the alphabet, simple phrases, anything to keep my mind off of me not in control of the moving vehicle I was strapped into. The moment we stopped at the hospital I released my grip on the bars. My fingers screamed at me from the effort.

I was rolled into a ward and left there while dozens of people came and went. Edward had strolled away meaningfully and I itched to sign every bad word I knew at him behind his back. Tyler – a boy from my school was rolled in shortly after I was, and he had to have been the driver of the van. He was covered in cuts and blood. His head was oozing still under some gauze. I wanted to puke. I managed to control that urge too as I reassured him that I was fine, reassured Charlie that I was fine, reassured nurses that I was fine. When I finally had a small speck of alone time I told Charlie that my ears were ringing a little and it was making it hard to hear. He nodded, understanding.

"It's why you're more confused isn't it?" he asked. He had probably worried I had a concussion.

"Yeah. Can't hear squat. Well I can now actually, and it's getting better. Probably just adrenaline to be honest." I paused, thinking. "Could you do me a favour and hunt down whatever doctor is supposed to be looking after me and ask them to be… well discreet?" I hoped that the emphasis would make my point, as I nodded my head towards the still conscious Tyler. Charlie nodded, understanding, looked at Tyler, grimaced and went hunting for my attending physician.

I lay back in my bed listening. Every time my eyes wandered to Tyler he was apologizing. He hadn't seen Edward either.

"Seriously I am fine Tyler. Don't worry about it. I'm okay." I had redundantly repeated the reassurances, but nothing seemed to quiet him. I turned over, away from him, glaring towards the empty hospital bed beside me. A hospital bed that Edward Cullen should be in. Actually, even that was incorrect. He shouldn't even be in here, off parading wherever he was. I should be being scraped from the side of a van. I imagined an EMT with an ice scraper, peeling away the Bella pancake and smiled morosely. I focused then on the ringing in my ears. It had greatly subsided, and now a dull throb was pulsing around my temples. I wondered if I'd lost any more hearing this time. Was my head even damaged enough? Was I being a hypochondriac? They wheeled me away to x-ray me, and I rolled my eyes as everyone reassured me that I was fine. Two seconds ago I'd been telling them that. They needed the official stamp of my attending – but so far absent – physician, so I was wheeled back into the room with Tyler. He had drugs now and was much less coherent, laid back, and very sleepy looking. Finally some silence. I stared at the pastel walls replaying the inhumanly strong and fast actions of my saviour in my mind. Since I lost my hearing, my eyes and brain seemed to absorb what little input I did receive with such determination that it was almost photographic. I had a play-by-play of his heroics. And they were impossible.

A musical murmuring caught my attention. I wasn't sure what it said but I knew damn well who it was. I glared at Edward. He began to raise a hand, and for a split second I thought he was going to begin signing to me. I was confused until I saw his lips move.

"No blood no foul," he smiled towards Tyler, and then sat himself on the bottom of Tyler's bed. "And what's the verdict?"

"I'm fine. Not even a concussion. There's nothing wrong with me at all, but they won't let me go." My hands twitched with the longing to emphasize my words with signs. I clasped them together, and finally sat back on my propped up pillows. "How come you aren't strapped in here like the rest of us?" That elicited a laugh from him.

"It's all about who you know. But don't worry, I came to spring you."

I continued glowering at him, until Dr. Cullen walked into my line of sight. It had to be him. Young, blond, movie star like appearance, the grace of a ballet dancer and the physique of a boxer. Pale, and tired looking, exactly like Edward.

"So Miss Swan, how are you feeling?" he smiled at me. I couldn't help but be crass, it was the two millionth time I'd heard that question.

"I'm still fine." I kept my eyes fluttering between Edward's lips and Dr. Cullen's, the musical notes were too similar. I would definitely miss phrases if I wasn't paying attention. The one thing I did notice was that Edward seemed to be frowning slightly, and looking confusedly at his father. Was he expecting a different diagnosis?

"- head hurt? Edward said you hit it pretty hard." I caught the doctor saying. In annoyance my teeth clicked together. I could punch him.

"It's fine." I managed. The doctor's cool fingers probed lightly against my skull, and my view of Edward was blocked. I looked determinedly up at Dr. Cullen's lips.

"Tender?" he asked when I winced. I began glaring at him now. If he'd read my file he surely had enough information about me to understand just how many 'tender' spots I had acquired over the years. I arched my eyebrow at him. He backed away with a smile, still facing me. I kept my eyes away from Edward.

"Well come back if you're feeling dizzy, or if you notice any disruptions in your eyesight…." He paused, and smiled "Or hearing. Your father is in the waiting room outside, you can both head home now."

"Can't I head back to school?" I was going to miss the entire day's worth of classes. Angela could cover me I know, but honestly – I was missing more than enough as it was.

"You should probably go home and rest. I could make it an order if you would prefer."

I suddenly looked at Edward. "Does he get to go back to school?"

Edward smirked at me. "Someone has to spread the word that we're alive."

I scowled again. I would get wrinkles young if I kept this up. I swung myself off of the hospital bed, and oh so not gracefully tumbled into Dr. Cullen. He steadied me, checking my eyes again for dilution no doubt.

"Honestly, I'm fine. I'm going. I'll sleep. Thank you," I worked my way towards Edward. He stiffened slightly as I approached him. "I would however like a quick word alone with you."

Edward nodded once, turned abruptly away from me and started walking towards the empty hall. As I checked back towards Carlisle he was making himself busy with Tyler in a rather overly cheery way. He totally knew too.

Edward stopped in the hallway, and turned to face me. "Your father is waiting for you."

"He can last a few more minutes."

"What do you want?" he asked, the venom in his statement almost crumbling my resolve.

"You stopped a van today. With your hands."

"You hit your head. You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Your own father just disproved that theory, there's nothing wrong with my head. I saw the dents. I saw you lift the van as it came for my legs. You got over to me from across the parking lot in a matter of seconds."

"Nobody will believe that you know."

"I don't care, and I'm not going to tell anyone." I said each word with an almost patronising quality, making sure that I enunciated it so that I sounded as fierce as possible. Surprise flitted across his face. "But you still owe me an explanation."

"I saved your life. I don't owe you anything." His eyes were cold, flashing dangerously. I flinched back. Good point. I had secrets didn't I? Was I the only one allowed them? It was hard to admit, but I'd hate it if someone pushed me for information. Fine.

"Fair enough," I conceded with a nod. "But if I'm going to keep this a secret there better be a damn good reason. I want to know why I'm lying to people."

"Well then I hope you enjoy disappointment," he stared me down. I turned my head away.

"Why did you even bother?" I sighed, moving away without waiting for his reply. I found Charlie, and half the school in the waiting room. I reassured everyone and made Charlie take me home. I wondered about my truck. It was probably still sitting in the car lot at school. Looks like I'd be walking in tomorrow.