Hi, everyone! What a huge response to the last couple chapters! You guys really blew me away, thank you!

Mega hugs go to Katmom this week for taking over the beta reins while SueBee's away. (Kathie's the one who first taught me it was "reins" and not "reigns." LOL!) :-) I also owe a big thank you to IndieFicPimp and The Lemonade Stand for pimping this story out all over the place recently. -You're amazing!

Now... where were we? Oh, yes. Edward's awake now, so let's get back to it!


Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, its characters, or any kind of medical license. No copyright infringement, or professional expertise, is intended.


Chapter 12:

EPOV—

The light is so bright, it's almost blinding. My recently opened eyes blink reflexively, tearing up at the same time. Lifting my hand, I try to block out some of the light while my brother drones on in the background.

"No, I know, Alice. For what it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing. Yeah, yeah... I'm sorry, too. I promise you, I feel just as responsible, but there's honestly no way even you could have known."

I blink a few more times and blink the moisture from my eyes. Emmett sighs heavily at something and I attempt to get his attention. I raise a hand.

"Well, take it easy and get better. And try not to worry too much about Whitlock. From what I remember, he's a tough guy. He'll be up and walking again before you know it."

My eyes come into focus, allowing me to find Emmett in the room, but also to see a plastic tube sticking out of my mouth. Suddenly, instead of waving my brother down, I'm reaching up to feel the tube and see what else I'm hooked up to.

I can feel the strain in my lungs as my breathing changes and fights against the machine I'm apparently attached to.

"Emmett," a soft voice gasps. "Get off the phone!"

"What?" Emmett says.

"Edward...?"

My mother appears over me, her green eyes dancing back and forth over my features. She smiles and brings a hand to her mouth when she sees my eyes are open.

"You're awake," she whispers.

"He's awake?"

Mom nods. "Yes, call your sister. Go get your father."

And Bella?

Emmett leans over my bed right next to Mom. He has more scruff than I've seen on him in years. "Hey, big brother... welcome back."

"Honey, please go get Dad."

And Bella. Where's Bella?

Emmett nods. Mom takes my hand and runs her fingers over my hair.

"I don't know if you remember anything about what's going on, but don't be scared. You're in the hospital in Port Angeles and everything's fine. You're going to be okay."

She's smiling at me and she looks so relieved, but all I want is to ask her where Bella is.

My eyes dart around the room. Maybe she's here. Maybe that's why Mom didn't mention her.

The curtain around my bed is pulled back and several bodies file into the room. None of them are the one I'm looking for.

My father appears, looking more haggard than I've seen him before, but his face breaks into a wide smile when our eyes meet.

"Hi, my boy."

I lift a hand in a sort of wave and he chuckles. "Why don't we see about getting that tube out of your throat, huh?"

I nod, and go back to examining everybody else in the room.

Emmett has stepped out, presumably to call my sister. Mom is standing at the end of my bed now, watching. Dad is talking to the doctor in charge, a kid who looks younger than me, though I doubt that's possible.

I guess some people are just lucky that way. A thought that leads me back to Bella.

I meet Mom's eyes and make a gesture with my hands asking for pen and paper. She doesn't understand right away, but eventually gets it.

"Oh! You want something to write with?"

I nod, or try to. There are two pairs of hands near my face, and some of the tape holding things to me is being pulled off.

Holy mother of... ow!

I grunt and wince and a petite nurse with light blue eyes glances down at me.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry... One more and we're done."

She rips the tape off and I groan again, causing the tube to move in my throat. I tense up immediately.

"Relax, Edward," my dad says, taking one of my hands. "This is going to feel a little strange, but it will be easier if you stay calm and relaxed."

I look at my mom again while one of the nurses suctions out my mouth. I raise my eyebrows and she shakes her head, smiling.

"Can't you wait until they get the tube out?" she asks.

I shake my head at her and Dad chuckles.

"It's okay, Esme. He'll probably be too sore to talk much at first. A pen and pad of paper would be a good idea."

She takes a deep breath and hesitates a moment before going in search of my request. I look up at Dad when she goes and he winks at me. I realize now he's trying to keep her calm as well, and I half-smile at his effort to give her something to do.

Mom doesn't return until after they're ready to remove the tube, which turns out to be a good thing. The process leading up to the actual removal is agonizing, and I feel my eyes welling with tears as I retch repeatedly while they flush the tube and write a million and one things down on my chart. Even when my throat is finally free and clear, and an oxygen mask is in place over my mouth and nose, I have a hard time swallowing without gagging.

As soon as I've caught my breath and the doctor and nurses have left us, Mom hands me the pad with shaky hands. I offer her a weak smile while I breathe oxygen vapors in and out between coughs.

Dad praises me and reassures Mom that I'm doing perfectly well, or "just as expected".

I couldn't care less. I have one thing on my mind.

Bella?

I spell her name out on the paper in my hands.

Mom and Dad share a furtive glance. My heart lurches, the monitors behind me displaying that fact clearly to the entire room. Mom rubs my arm and sighs.

"She's not here, sweetheart."

"Where..." I start to say, but can't.

Where is she? I write.

"Edward, son, we actually don't know where Anna Bella is right now. We assume she's safe."

"Perhaps I should go get Emmett," Mom says while I'm scribbling furiously.

Assume!

Dad begins speaking before I finish printing the 'E'.

"We have no other choice but assume. She was taken back into protective custody while you were still being worked on in the emergency room, son. You can to speak to your brother about the details, but we really don't know much. By the time our flight got here from Hawaii, you were in ICU and Bella was long gone.

"I'm sorry, son," he says, rubbing my uninjured shoulder. "Nobody's telling us anything. Just that she's being looked after."

I begin to scribble down a protest, but am stopped by a coughing fit, my breath coming too fast and my heart beating frantically. The oxygen mask slips off my face due to all my hacking.

"Here, let me..." Carlisle replaces the oxygen mask and holds it in place. His other hand goes to the top of my head and when I look up at him, I can see the fatigue in his eyes, along with the worry and the fear. This is not the doctor standing by my side, this is the father. A man afraid for his son. And maybe even for his sort of, almost daughter.

I place my hand over his on the mask and try to convey to him that I, at least, am okay. He smiles weakly and blinks away some moisture in his eyes.

"You scared us, my boy. You really, truly did."

"I'm sorry," I mouth.

"By all accounts you probably saved Anna Bella's life," he continues, his voice thick. "You've made us so proud, not that we haven't always been proud of you, but this..." He sighs, the air shuddering slightly as he exhales.

I squeeze his hand again and then remove it, reaching for the paper and pen once more.

I'm okay, Dad. I love you.

The door to the room swings open and Mom peeks her head in.

"Prepare yourself," she says, smiling with misty eyes.

I add to my note quickly. All of you.

Dad chuckles at the amendment right before Emmett barrels into the room. He looks at me with wild eyes for a moment, then smiles.

"Dude... you scared the shit out of me!"

I half laugh, half choke.

"Emmett," our father admonishes.

"What!" Emmett defends. "He died. Like, Bro," he says, moving to my side with serious, wide eyes. "You actually flat-lined. It took them four or five tries to get you back before they rushed you off to surgery. I thought you were a goner."

I blink at him, not having any memory of the events that took place after he put me in the back of his cruiser. I hadn't even thought of how close things may have been for me until now.

I hear quiet sobbing, and look over at my parents. My mother is crying into my father's chest, he has his arms around her and is scowling at Emmett.

I reach out to them. Dad turns Mom toward me.

"I'm sorry," I mouth. "I'm okay." I hand her the note I wrote before she walked in the room. She reads it and nods.

"We're just so glad you're alive, and finally awake. And I am so, so sorry we weren't here when it happened," she cries. She leans down and kisses my forehead before hugging me the best she can given that I'm lying in a hospital bed. "We never should have left," she whispers.

"Esme, honey..." Dad says.

I gesture for my pen and paper again when she pulls away. Dad hands it to me.

Not your fault, Mom. Mine. I took her out. I got her recognized. My fault.

Mom, Dad and Emmett all take a moment to read the note and then look at each other, before Emmett clears his throat.

"Listen, Edward... there are going to be some people who are going to want to talk to you. The FBI is investigating this, no let me clarify –the Internal Affairs division of the FBI is investigating this– so it's way, way out of my jurisdiction. I've been told in no uncertain terms to keep my nose out of their business. However... we haven't exactly called them to inform them you're awake yet." He pauses and looks at Mom and Dad again, tapping my bedrail in thought.

Dad speaks up. "Can you tell us what happened, son? Like I told you earlier, they aren't telling us a Goddamn thing. Sorry, honey." He glances at Mom apologetically. "And while you are our son, and our first priority, Anna Bella has been our responsibility as well and we're quite fond of her."

Mom scoffs. "Speak for yourself, Carlisle Cullen. I'm more than fond of that girl. She's a daughter to me, and I want to know what happened! Feds or no Feds."

There's a charged silence, while everyone seems to be thinking. Well, at least I am. I knew my parents cared for Bella, my mother especially so, and a wave of guilt washes over me.

When I made my decision to be with Bella and deal with the consequences later, I didn't account for disaster striking.

Because of that, I don't know what to say. I don't know what they've been told so far, but according to my father, it's been nothing. Would I be endangering them, or implicating them in anything if I revealed all I knew about who Anna Bella Dwyer really was, or is?

God, I hope she's okay... Please, let her be okay.

"Edward?" Emmett's voice catches my attention. "What can you tell us?"

I want to ask him, What do you know already? Instead I find my concern for Bella superseding all other thoughts and I blurt out my first real words since having the ventilator tube pulled from my throat.

"Are you sure... that Bella... is safe? Is she... okay?"

Emmett sighs and rubs a hand over his face for a moment. "I believe she is, yes. At least as okay as she can be."

"What does that mean?" I rasp, rubbing my throat. Dad hands me a cup of ice water and moves the oxygen mask so I can take a few sips.

"It means she went with who she supposed to go with, and they've taken extraordinary measures to make sure no one can find her. At least, that's what I'm being told, but... she didn't want to go. She wanted to stay here."

Oh, my poor, sweet girl...

A wave of grief for her washes over me and I nearly choke on another sip of ice water. My chest hurts a bit, and I find myself wishing the cool liquid could quell my anxious heart along with my burning throat.

God, please let her be okay.

"Ed, man. We really should hurry this up," Emmett says, holding up my pen and paper and wiggling them. I nod for him to continue.

"Okay, like Dad said, the Feds and the U.S. Marshals aren't telling us anything. I think we'd at least like to know what you meant by 'I got her recognized.'"

He points at my previous note and I nod, handing my water off to my father and replacing the oxygen mask over my face before taking the pen and paper.

I flip to a new sheet and begin.

Bella used to be involved in a competitive sport. She was good, too. When we were in Port Angeles the other night, someone recognized her from her sport and asked for her autograph. Then the idiot posted it on the internet.

"Her autograph?" several voices say on top of each other.

I smirk and underline the words, She was good.

"What sport?" Mom asks. "She didn't seem the athletic type."

I chuckle and scratch out my response.

You'd be surprised.

My father's eyebrows draw together. "Care to elaborate?"

I hesitate again.

"She knew CPR," Emmett interjects. "Was she was a swimmer or something?"

My eyes widen at his words and I almost choke on air. As I struggle to clear my throat, it occurs to me that keeping secrets from my family is going to be a lot harder than I thought.

Everything –everything I say, everything I hear– leads my mind straight back to Bella. I can hear her sweet voice in my head even now.

"He was a swimmer. We met in the dining hall at the National Training Center."

Realizing I'm being stared at, I shake the memory of that very intimate conversation from my head and flip to a new page.

Not a swimmer.

I point to Emmett and start a new line.

Is it a good idea for me to tell you guys what I know about her? She was worried about that.

Emmett scratches his head. "Well, I don't think we can do anymore damage at this point. She's long gone and anyone looking for her will know it. We are sort of, kind of, her family now, so I suppose there's a minimal risk to us. Someone may try to extricate information from us if they think we have it. But nothing you know could possibly lead them to Bella. You were unconscious when she skipped town."

Dad interjects. "Why don't we keep things simple for now? We can go into further detail when you're stronger. Besides, Emmett's right. The hospital would have been instructed to call the lead investigator as soon as you woke up, and that means they'll be arriving any minute."

"Perhaps they will be more forthcoming with information about Bella if Edward cooperates with them," Mom says softly.

Emmett snorts, expressing his doubt, but I nod in hopeful agreement.

A heavy silence settles over the room and Mom and Dad both sit and pull their chairs close to the bed. While I watch them, I suddenly remember something.

I scratch out another note and turn it towards my brother.

What happened to the asshat that shot me? Did he die?

Emmett laughs. "Dude, I wish. No, soon-to-be-former Agent James Wiles was arrested by Forks' Finest and then taken into federal custody later that night. I believe he's being held in Seattle pending charges."

I nod. Do they know why he did it? Or how he found us so fast? Or if he was working alone?

"I don't know how he got to you so fast," Emmett says, his voice more somber. "That's still being investigated, but from what I've pieced together, Wiles was connected with the organized crime division of the FBI. Even though he wouldn't have been privy to the location of any witnesses, he would have known how to go about uncovering them. So, he was probably hired, bribed, or blackmailed into doing this. It just doesn't make any sense otherwise. And it's also why they took Bella back into protective custody. Until they get some answers from this guy, and until they know who hired him, there are too many unknowns."

Emmett shakes his head, his eyes far away. "You know, the U.S. Marshals who placed Bella here, they were friends of mine. I met Deputies Brandon and Whitlock my rookie year in Seattle."

Are they all right?

My brother sighs. "They're alive... Out of the two of them, Whitlock got the worst of it. He took his seatbelt off at some point and ended up with a spinal cord injury. He's in critical condition in Seattle right now, but once he's stable, he'll likely be flown to a facility in Denver that specializes in that sort of thing. It'll be a long road for him."

I shake my head and exhale in disgust.

"Yeah, it's a damn shame. Alice is a mess over the whole thing. Her injuries were minor, all things considered, but she's blaming herself for everything. She seems to think she should have been able to see this coming."

I take in his words and an uncomfortable feeling washes over me. I tap his arm and write a note.

How do they know Bella's safe if it was an FBI agent that was trying to kill her?

"They don't," Emmett says, shaking his head. "That's why nobody's talking. Alice made some sort of arrangements and she's refusing to inform anyone, in any agency anywhere, of Bella's whereabouts. To be honest, she could lose her job over it at some point if she's not careful."

But isn't her job to protect Bella no matter what?

"Yeah, but bureaucracy is a bitch. Especially when something like this happens. There are a lot of unanswered questions and a lot of people who may get canned, or at the very least forcibly transferred out of their jobs when the dust settles."

I sigh heavily and lay my head back. My father takes the pen and pad out of my hands.

"Rest for a while, Edward."

I nod and close my eyes, albeit reluctantly. I'm exhausted, however, and there's a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach that has nothing to do with the aches and pains I'm starting to feel throughout my body.

I miss Bella, and I'm terrified for her. I can't imagine what she's thinking right now, or how frightened she must be. Everything she was ever scared of, all of her very worst fears, came true yesterday.

Wait... What day is it? Was it yesterday?

I open my eyes and turn my head towards my father. He sees and sits forward.

"What is it, son?"

I swallow once and lick my lips. "How long have I been here?"

"Five days. You were brought in on Saturday and it's Thursday now."

My eyes fill with tears almost instantly. I want to feel offended for my own manhood, but the gravity of everything has finally hit me and it's crushing.

Five days...

You actually flat-lined...

She was taken back into protective custody while you were still being worked on in the emergency room...

Five days.

Five days since I almost died.

Five days since they took her God-knows-where.

I'm vaguely aware of my father standing and placing both hands on my face. He's looking straight into my eyes and telling me to breathe slowly, to calm down. He asks my mother to call for the nurse. Emmett goes instead and I hear the door slam behind him.

I grab at the mask on my face.

"Edward, stop. You need to calm down."

I shake my head and rip the mask off.

"Does she know!" I gasp.

"Who, son?"

"Bella... Does she know I'm okay? Did anyone tell her?"

Carlisle's eyes fill with understanding and sadness. "I don't know, Edward... We just don't know."

An alarm starts ringing in the background and my father quickly places the oxygen mask back over my face. He instructs my mother to make sure I keep it there and rushes from the room.

It feels like I barely even blink and he's back, along with a whole flock of medical personnel.

My mother leans over me while they work and pleads with me. "Sweetheart, it's okay. Whatever has you so upset, it's okay."

Even as I try to argue with her, I feel myself falling into a haze. I can even feel my heart slowing and my breathing normalizing. I blink slowly and force the words out.

"She'll be so scared. She'll blame herself."

"Bella?"

I nod and feel my eyelids drooping.

My mother's tears spill down her cheeks and she nods knowingly, gripping my hand at the same time.

"We'll do everything we can to get a message to her, Edward. To make sure she's safe. I swear it. Just please, please rest now. We'll be here when you wake up."

It's the last thing I hear before the drugs coursing through my system take me back into the darkness and the silence I've come to know so well.

~(~)~

Sunlight bounces off of her hair, bringing out the rich reds in it and making her look like an angel. She sits back and tilts her face skyward, eyes closed and a serene smile on her face. I've never seen her like this before, with the exception of last night while she slept. Bella looks relaxed, happy... at peace.

The last month or so has been hard, and if anyone would have told me a few days ago that I would be enjoying an easy camaraderie with her, or enjoying a rare sunny afternoon in Port Angeles with her by my side, I would have said they were crazy. Just yesterday things between us were still very tense.

She'd become so silent and withdrawn around me, and I in turn had become hyper-aware of every little move she made; terrified I would do something else wrong and she would deteriorate further. I fully blamed myself for her decline since the night I brought her home from Garrett's bar, and I knew my family did too.

I wasn't even sure why they'd asked me to stay with her, knowing that I'd pushed her to open up and in turn, caused her to shut down. I wasn't sure how they expected me to handle the situation while staying overnight with her, but I guess I handled it well.

I wonder what everyone will think of our little breakthrough this morning?

I hope the change in Bella will be obvious, and that it will remain even after my parents get back from Hawaii. Whatever I've done, whether it was comforting her during her nightmare last night, or getting her out of the house for an afternoon, or simply being upfront and honest with her while we talked today, it seems to have made a huge impact.

I smile at the thought and sneak another glance at her.

She shakes her head a little, causing the rest of her hair to fall down over her back. The words pour out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"Your hair has red in it." I groan internally. Your hair has red in it?

"So does yours," Bella says simply, opening one eye with a smile.

I laugh, feeling relieved. "I believe I have heard that before."

She snickers quietly in response and opens her eyes to look at me a moment before turning her head toward the water. She takes it all in while I observe her as surreptitiously as possible. I know there's still something very wrong about the way I feel when I'm around her. At the same time, it feels so right.

Not for the first time, I wish that we'd been born a few years closer together. I want to throttle myself in the next breath for thinking that way, because she would still be my parent's foster child and potentially my next sibling, were that the case.

I shudder at the thought and try to pay attention to the burgeoning sunset in front of us instead.

It's nice, but it doesn't hold a candle to Bella.

She shifts a bit. I snap my eyes ahead.

"May I ask you a question?" she asks then.

"Of course," I say.

"What did you do when you were in the Navy?"

I can't help but laugh when I notice the apparent trigger of her curiosity; a two-hundred twenty foot Coast Guard cutter.

"That's a Coast Guard vessel, Bella. Navy are grey."

She looks at me like I'm a lunatic. "Um, thanks there genius. I did see that. The bold writing on the side sort of gave it away."

I laugh loudly.

She's so unexpected. The more I think I know her, the more I realize I don't know anything. She never does or says what I think she will. Even in light of her little shut down this last month, she's nothing like most of my students; predictable, self-absorbed, unobservant.

I consider her original question.

What would she think of my Navy days? I mean, she knows me now. She has no idea that I was a skinny, awkward kid when I left for basic training. She wouldn't respect me if she knew I was just running from my problems and willing to take any job they would give me if it meant I got to get away.

But then... maybe if I open up to her first?

I sigh and decide to go for it.

"I was a Boatswain's Mate, which is basically a glorified maintenance man. We did all kinds of stuff, anything necessary to keep our ship up to regulation every day." I swallow and go for the gold, putting it all out there. "Painting was somewhat of a specialty of mine."

She whips her head around to look at me, her eyes disbelieving. "Painting?" she gasps. I'm not surprised.

"Yeah," I answer, laughing nervously. "Apparently the proper use of a drop-cloth is a highly coveted skill in enlisted men."

She gapes at me, her mouth open in a perfect "O." I look away and pull my hands through my hair. I'm both embarrassed by her reaction, and desperately trying to avoid staring at her pretty pink mouth.

"Not what you imagined, huh?" I ask, keeping my eyes averted.

"Not really, no," she admits softly. "But that's okay."

"It's lame, I know," I answer. "I went in hoping to do something cool like work on an air-craft carrier, or maybe become a pilot someday. I just didn't stay in long enough, or go to college first."

She nods and smiles, turning her face back towards the water. She seems to close her eyes automatically, once again lifting her chin towards its rays.

"You like the sun, don't you?" I ask, watching her.

"Very much. Do you?" she answers without open her eyes.

"I do," I reply. "The Roosevelt, that's the ship I was stationed on, was homeported in Florida. You know, the Sunshine State and all that."

"Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes. I missed my family more."

Then I really let loose and share things with Bella I've rarely told anyone else. Not even my brother, my best friend, knows some of what I'm expressing. Perhaps it's simply because I figure that Bella can relate. I know our situations are vastly different, but I my parents both died, too.

Of course, by the end of the conversation she reminds me that her folks had their lives stolen from them in what I can only assume was an act of violence. Her tears break me and I comfort her the only way I know how, offering her words of hope for a better future than the present situation she's been dealt.

"Even if you never look at your own experience the way I look at mine," I tell her. "You can be happy again. Just give it some time."

Hearing her cry causes my arms to ache with want. I so much wish I could just hold her and make it all go away, but I know I can't. And I shouldn't. It's highly inappropriate for me to express my care for her in that way and I know it's more than she's comfortable with as well. As much as it pains me to, I put the thought out of my mind and sit next to her until she shivers in the cool evening air.

"Come on," I say softly, hoping to rouse her from her thoughts gently. "Let's get back to the theater. Do you like popcorn?"

~(~)~

"Is he muttering about popcorn?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"Think he's dreaming about her again?"

"I don't know. It's possible. He got really attached to her."

"That's obvious, Em. What I don't get though, is all that awkwardness the last month or so. I mean, I was almost afraid to leave them alone last week." There's a sigh. "Maybe I shouldn't have. If I'd taken Bella to Seattle with me..."

"Then it might have been you in that bed instead of Edward, Tor."

Tor... Tori... Victoria...

"Edward...? I'm here."

I feel a hand on mine.

"Shit, you think we woke him up? He's supposed to be sedated. Dad'll kill me if they come back from the hotel and find out Edward was up again tonight."

"Shh... he's still out. Mostly."

My eyes flutter open for just a moment and I see her. My baby sister. The spitting image of my birth mother as I remember her –dark red hair, blue-green eyes, sad smile.

I feel her take my hand in hers.

"Sleep, big brother. We're here."

I nod a little and try to force my lips into a smile. I don't want them to worry about me, but I'm tired and not truly wanting to wake.

So I do the only thing I can. I left myself sleep and I dream of Bella.

~(~)~

She looks like the proverbial deer in headlights, completely frozen and unable to move. Bella's tried everything to get this guy to take a hint and leave her alone, but he's not getting it. He's adamant that he knows her and that he wants an autograph.

I mean, autograph?

Who is Isabella Swan? And why would someone stop her in public like this anyway? Okay, so I did hear him mention something about the Olympics, and shooting, maybe? But whether or not he has the right person, is he not aware that he's making the girl in front of him obviously uncomfortable. Does he not see that people are staring?

People are staring.

The gravity of that hits me as I remember a conversation with a certain U.S. Marshal last month, as well as several conversations with my brother and parents. This isn't good.

Breaking out of the confused stupor I've been in, I go to Bella's rescue. She's still arguing that she's not who they think she is, unaware of the full scope of the attention she's receiving.

I step close to her back and lower my head to her ear.

"It's just an autograph," I murmur. "Give the man what he wants and let's get out of here."

Her head whips around and she looks at me in shock. I glance around purposefully with my eyes, and she follows my gaze. I see her confused expression alight with growing horror. Only now noticing the gathering crowd, her body trembles lightly as she takes in the number of eyes on her.

She takes a deep breath and turns back to the idiot who started this all, the idiot who looked at me like I'd answered his prayers when I suggested Bella just give him what he wanted. She swallows hard and nods, giving her consent as he hands her a pen and some paper.

I watch, as if in a dream, while Bella's hand maneuvers the pen on the page with practiced ease. She doesn't hesitate over the designation, like I would were I signing another man's name. In fact, she lets out a small sigh, a wistful sound, as the letters appear there in ink.

Isabella Swan.

Swan.

Swans.

I jolt with a sudden realization, my wide eyes falling on Bella's profile as she stands frozen in front of me.

She wasn't dreaming about graceful white birds last night. Whatever her dreams or nightmares were, the whispered "swan" I heard must have been in reference to her name. Her real name.

I hear a shuddering breath escape her and I realize now is not the time to dissect this new information. Turning her to me, I ask her what she needs from me. I'd give her anything. Do anything for her.

Does she need me to get her out of the country? I will.

Fortunately, for the time being at least, her request is something much simpler.

"Just get me out of here."

~(~)~

"Edward, did you say something?"

Tori...

I feel pressure and warmth lifting from my legs and hear someone clear their throat.

"I think he said he wants to get out of here," a groggy voice says.

Emmett...

I hear a sigh and a squeaking sound. "Well, I don't blame him. It's been almost a week."

I inhale somewhat sharply at those words –a reminder of where I am and what's going on. Exhaling slowly, I try to force my eyes open. Once again, it takes less effort than the last attempt, but I'm still tired and it's almost completely dark in the room, so I close them again.

"What time is it?" my brother yawns.

"Five a.m.," Tori answers. "I'm sorry if I woke you. This miserable excuse for a cot is pathetic and what with Edward mumbling in his sleep and all..."

What mumbling?

"Yeah, and he usually sleeps like the dead."

"Do you think it's because of the pain, or that he's uncomfortable?"

"I don't know. I sure as hell am, though."

"You want the miserable excuse for a cot?"

"Nah... I'm good here. I'll just go back to the hotel and get a nap anyway when Mom and Dad come back."

"How did you get them to leave anyway?"

"I told Dad I saw Mom almost pass out, and I told Mom that I was worried about Dad's arthritis flaring up because I saw him popping like eight Advil or something."

"Well played," Tori says approvingly.

"I did what I had to."

I hear the television click on, and the sound has me opening my eyes briefly.

"Keep it down, Emmett," Tori whispers.

"And you..." she says, reaching for my hand and leaning over my fluttering eyes. "Go back to sleep, okay? That's an order."

I grin and close my eyes. My bossy little sister. Fortunately, she doesn't have to tell me twice. Sleep, I can do. Sleep is easy. Sleep means I get to be with Bella.

I can only pray that maybe we'll know where she is the next time I wake.

~(~)~


I know, I know... where's Bella? Bring back Bella! I hear you, I do. But look at it this way; we can't leave Edward at a time like this, now can we? ;-)

Next update... a week.

Until then, if you need something to keep you busy, you can go vote for our little Sharpshooter and Wannabe-Stuntdriver in the Emerging Swan Awards!

"Arms" is up for Best Bella and Edward, and voting is still open until Monday, Sept. 5th. If you're so inclined, you can visit their webpage, here–
http : / emergingswanawards. blogspot. com /

Thank you, thank you! -Ginnie