Thank you to my wonderful Beta, SueBee, for getting this done for me on short notice. You've been an amazing champion for the story and a consistent source of help to me. I appreciate it so much!

I'm also exceedingly grateful to everyone reviewing Arms. I know I don't always get around to responding, but as a lot of other fanfiction authors have said before me, it's the only payment I get for this and each one means the world to me. :-) I also want to send a shout out to those who have Tweeted, rec'd and chatted about this story over the proverbial water-cooler. Thank you a million times over!


Disclaimer: I still do not own Twilight, its characters, or any other copyrighted material. I'm just borrowing. Additionally, I am not a medical professional or a federal agent. I do my research, but if I get something wrong, please don't string me up. ;-)


From Chapter 12~

Sleep, I can do. Sleep is easy. Sleep means I get to be with Bella.

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


Chapter 13:

EPOV—

I'm dreaming again. This time I'm more aware of it. But it doesn't stop me from allowing myself to become completely immersed in the memories.

We're not quite halfway home to Forks when Bella breaks her eerie silence. She's not said a thing to me since leaving the movie theater, and when she finally does, she asks me if I'm angry at her. I have no idea what for, but I assuage her fears immediately.

There's nothing for me to be angry for. Nothing that happened tonight was her fault. She's in an impossible situation.

Even I'm shaken up over it.

I well remember the little talking to I got from the U.S. Deputy Marshal in charge of protecting her. He was clear she'd be taken away from us if I asked too many questions. What would happen now? There was no way I'd let anyone just come and take her against her will, but would it be against her will?

Maybe it would be a relief for her to leave. Not to mention that there's a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that what happened tonight has placed Bella in danger. In which case, it would be in her best interest to leave.

Next to me, I hear a choking sob escape her, and despite my reassurances that I'm not upset with her, Bella completely loses it. Her cries grow inconsolable, and, while I knew it was coming, I'd just hoped she'd hold off until we got home before she did this.

Not that her silence and trembling weren't just as disconcerting as her tears are, but I'd hoped we'd be off of this dark, winding road before she needed me.

Fortunately, the 101 is a path I know well. There are little logging roads and access paths located all along the way. I find one, and being sure to make sure we aren't noticed by any other cars, I pull off.

I don't think twice about getting out of the car and going to her. I open Bella's door and lean in, whispering that it will all be alright, though I have no idea that it will be.

"Bella, sweetheart, it's okay. It's all right and I'm not mad."

She continues to cry.

"You did nothing wrong. You know that, right? And you handled what happened back there so well."

She doesn't seem to hear me at all, and her breaths are coming so fast and so desperately that it's frightening. I take off her seatbelt and pick her up as I would a small child. She barely weighs more than one.

Sitting back down, I pull her into my lap and close the door to shut the rain out. It's a bit cramped, but Bella clings to me, which means there's just enough room for the both of us.

"Bella, please don't cry. You're fine. It's fine."

Her arms go around my neck like she's drowning and I'm the life preserver.

"I've got you," I tell her. "You're okay."

Her grip on me tightens and she responds with a nod into my neck. Her cries continue, but quiet down. Instinctively, I tighten my own hold on her. I want to anchor her against me, make her feel safe.

She exhales a long breath and it goes right to the tiny hairs on my neck, making my body react. Shivers run through me and my lungs contract. Everything changes focus and suddenly, the way I'm holding her in my arms seems completely different.

Surprisingly, Bella's breathing evens out and calms. Mine becomes more frantic. She shifts her head to the side and... the world stops.

Her lips caress my neck.

I moan.

She does it again.

I hold her closer.

She kisses me again and I tremble as a wave of desire like nothing I've felt before rocks through me.

I want her. She has no idea. I want her like I've never wanted anyone, and I know deep down inside that it's not just about sex. Not even close.

I want to kiss her, yes, but I want to comfort her. I want to protect her. I want to help her and heal her. I want to love her, and dote on her, and provide for her. I want to take her away and keep her with me until the sun doesn't rise in the sky anymore. I just want.

I want everything.

But she's seventeen.

At least, she supposed to be seventeen.

There's some mental confusion over something the idiot from the movie theater said about watching Bella in the 2008 Olympics. She would have been only thirteen during the summer of 2008. I wrack my brain trying to remember if thirteen year olds can compete in the Olympics. And in shooting of all things? Wouldn't that have made some serious headlines?

My reverie is broken by the parting of Bella's lips. I can feel the moisture of her mouth against the skin beneath my jaw.

I groan, loudly.

"Bella..."

Heaven help me, if she runs her tongue over that spot I'm done for. I'll lean her back and kiss her until she can't breathe anymore. I'll kiss her until we both forget our names and anything else that exists outside of this car.

Oh, God. She's seventeen, she's seventeen, she's seventeen...

Mercifully, she also seems to realize what she's doing to me, or at least, she realizes that I'm virtually begging her for a reprieve.

Her lips leave my skin and she releases her hold on my neck. I take a deep, calming breath and loosen my own hold on her. It takes me a few more moments to collect myself, and, when I do, I'm disheartened to see her staring at her lap looking guilty and ashamed.

Does she always have to blame herself?

I take her face between my palms and wait for Bella to raise her eyes to mine. I need to communicate to her that she has nothing at all to feel guilty for.

I open my mouth to start to tell her, but my gaze becomes fixated on her mouth and if I loosen my tongue at all, it might end up doing some very forbidden things. I stifle a groan and close my eyes, directing the urge to her forehead instead.

Placing a gentle kiss there, I pull back and run my thumb over her soft, tear stained cheeks. There's so much I want to say, but I can't. I have to get some distance from her first and think.

I find the strength to let her go and get out of the car, placing her back inside and closing the door for her. I get back in the driver's side and restart the engine with a reticent sigh.

"Put your seatbelt on. We need to get you home," I say softly, telling myself the same thing.

I really do need to get her home. At home, we can figure this out. I can figure her out. I can find her out.

Isabella Swan... Who are you? Do I even know you at all? The Olympics? Really?

Despite my doubts and the seriousness of the situation, my lips quirk into a smile. I never would have imagined that about Bella. At the same time, I'm not at all surprised. Everything about her has always screamed extraordinary, phenomenal, and accomplished.

I'm definitely going to be finding out just how accomplished she is as soon as humanly possible.

By the time we get home, Bella seems better, but still uncomfortable. I tread carefully. I don't know the right thing to do or say at this point. I need more information first, but I don't think she's up for giving me the answers just yet. I stand in the foyer, hoping she'll speak first. She does.

"I'm going to go take a shower and go to bed. I have to call Jasper first, but..."

"Will you let me know what he tells you?" I ask. Obviously, I'm concerned about the outcome of tonight's events.

She nods. "Of course."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I'll be in the study," I tell her.

What I really mean is... I'll be on Google.

~(~)~(~)~

"Okay, did he just say something about Google?"

Emmett's voice rouses me from my dream.

I hear the delicate feminine laughter of my mother. "It sounded like it."

"I'm telling you, Mom, he's been like this all night."

"Hmm... He mentioned Isabella a couple times."

"Yeah, I noticed that, too."

"She does seem more like an Isabella, don't you think?" Mom asks thoughtfully, her voice curious. I can picture her trying to figure everything out. She sighs. "It makes sense that she would have preferred being called Bella if she was really an Isabella, and not an Anna Bella."

"Yeah. I guess so." Emmett yawns. "Where's Dad? Didn't he come back with you?"

"Yes. Your father's talking to the physician on duty."

"Cool. Do you mind if, after Tori gets back with breakfast, I head to the hotel to sleep?"

"No, of course not, sweetheart. Thank you, by the way, for getting the hotel room for us. You were right, we really did need a good night's sleep in an actual bed. It's been a long week."

"I don't know why you haven't been home. It's really not that far, Mom."

"Things were too unstable here."

I lift one eye open and see Mom watching me even as she speaks to Emmett. She smiles at me as my eye closes again just as quickly.

"Hi, baby."

"Hi," I rasp, keeping my eyes still shut tight.

She chuckles. "It's okay if you want to go back to sleep. Someone will be in here to poke and prod at you soon enough."

I shake my head and look around the room a little, thinking there's no point going back to sleep if I'm just going to be forced awake again. After a few minutes, however, my mother and brother have both fallen silent, and my eyelids get heavy again.

I don't know how it's possible to want to sleep even more after being in bed for so long, but without the sound of conversation around me to keep my attention, it's easy to let my mind drift to Bella.

At some point, I surrender to my fatigue and dream of her again.

~(~)~(~)~

She's real.

Isabella Swan.

She's real, and she's Bella, and she's... not seventeen.

I stare at the date on the screen again.

She's not seventeen.

I feel the words as they pass through my lips, but they're drowned out by the pounding of my heart. I can hear my pulse in my ears and my breaths are coming in pants.

I may be having a heart attack.

Or... I may have just had the equivalent of a ten-thousand pound weight lifted off of my shoulders.

She's not seventeen.

I feel like I can actually breathe again for the first time in almost six months, and before I even know what I'm doing, I've ripped the page I found on the web out of the printer tray and began taking the stairs two at a time.

I don't have a plan. I don't know what the hell I'm going to say, but I know I have to see Bella. I have to at the very least confirm this information. I'm helpless to stop the hope that's blossomed in my heart after seeing her face, her name, her age. I know I'll be crushed if it's all wrong, but it can't be. Can it?

I mean... I Googled it. It was on Wikipedia.

My feet slow as I reach the top of the stairs, some of my enthusiasm wavering. Wikipedia is crap and I know it.

My only comfort is that one of the sources sighted on the 2008 Beijing Olympics Wiki page was a CNN article that led me to an archived PDF of a USA Shooting publication that seemed very legit.

Still, I'm not sure what I planned to do with this information regarding Isabella Swan, and since I can hear the sound of a hairdryer coming through Bella's door, I sit down on the top step and take some deep breaths.

Eventually, my eyes wander back to the paper in my hand.

Athlete: Isabella Swan
Date of Birth:
September 13, 1988
Birthplace:
Phoenix, Arizona
Hometown:
Mesa, Arizona
Events: Women's 10m Air Rifle, Women's 50m Rifle Three Position

"Three position... Now I know what the hell the idiot from the movie theater was talking about."

My eyes skim over the hefty list of medals, awards and accomplishments next to Bella's name. I shake my head, a small smile gracing my lips as I read: 2008 Olympian -Gold Medalist (Women's 10M Air Rifle). The line is followed by another: 2008 Olympian -10th Place (Women's 50M Three-Position.)

It goes on and on—a national championship, World Cups, a few NCAA titles. I'm overwhelmed.

I stare off into space and try to picture Bella firing a rifle. It's not an image consistent with the quiet, withdrawn girl I've known. But then, there were some very small girls back in the Navy who were responsible for some very big guns.

Hoping it might help with the images in my head, I allow myself to look down and study Bella's picture in detail for the first time.

There's little room to deny that it's her despite the slightly lighter shade of her hair. She's the same, and yet different. She looks happier, more self-assured, and definitely younger. Or maybe it's just that she looks lighter and more carefree.

Her long hair almost obscures the sponsor names embroidered on her dark blue USA Shooting jacket. The blue is a nice contrast against her pale skin, while the red in the American flag hanging behind her brings out the slight flush of her cheeks. There's a twinkle in her eye as well –one I've never seen before.

I find myself feeling a little choked up when I think of all the reasons why that is. Below the hefty list of medals, awards and accomplishments to Isabella Swan's credit, there is a short biography. It's obviously no longer current, but speaks volumes of the life she lost.

-~- Bella Swan is a Resident Athlete at the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs. Though she is right handed, Bella favors her left when shooting. In addition to air-rifle, she is also skilled with a sport pistol and has medaled in several regional contests in that event.

Bella was first instructed in the use of a firearm at an early age by her father, a police officer in her hometown of Phoenix, Arizona. He remained her shooting coach until she was selected for the National Team in 2006, but still remains actively involved in her career. Bella openly admits he's her best friend.

Though she remains busy with school and her sport, in her free time Bella enjoys reading, tutoring younger readers, cooking with her mother, and playing games like chess, dominos, and Scrabble. -~-

The sound of Bella's muted voice coming through her closed door pulls me from my reading. I listen for a moment and realize she's on the phone.

I wonder how long I've been sitting here staring at her picture. How much time has passed while the lines written on the page in front of me began to fill in the gaps of what I know of this girl, and what I don't?

Somehow, impossibly, those three small paragraphs have brought her to life for me. I feel like I may finally be beginning to understand her. Who she is, and more importantly, who she isn't. There are still so many questions though.

As my eyes flit back to the top of the page, I am still reeling with the idea that she isn't seventeen.

Nervousness takes a hold of my gut, and some seriously girly butterflies tickle my stomach. Despite that, I stand on surprisingly steady legs and walk towards her room. It's silent now, and I just hope she's not fallen asleep because we need to talk.

And I have a feeling that some of what needs to be said between us really can't wait for the morning.

I knock quietly at first, then, as my eyes fall to her bio again.

I knock louder.

Knock, knock, knock...

~(~)~(~)~

Knock, knock, knock...

"Oh, for the love of... Tori, will you get that?"

"That can't be anyone from the hospital. They would know better, this is critical care for crying out loud."

"Can I help you?" I hear my sister hiss. I chuckle and force my eyes open.

It takes a little effort, but it's nothing like the last few times I tried to do the same. The heaviness is lifting.

"Hello, sweetheart," my mom whispers. I smile at her and turn my head as Tori's voice sounds again, obviously annoyed.

"Well, he's still sleeping. Or he was until you started pounding on the door. The door that, by the way, has a sign." I hear tapping against wood. "See? 'Please do not disturb. Patient resting.'"

"Our apologies, Miss Cullen, but were informed that he should be awake this morning. We need to speak with him."

My father sighs and stands, I see him out of the corner of my eye. "I'll take care of this. I'm sorry, Edward."

I shrug. While I do know where I am, and what happened to land me here, I have no clue who is at the door or what they want with me.

Mom leans over me and offers me a cup and straw. "Thirsty? It's ice water."

I nod and take the straw into my mouth.

My father exchanges some hushed words with whoever is at the door. I can't see behind the curtain pulled around it.

Mom shakes her head. "It figures they would come back just when your brother leaves to rest. He'll be pissed."

I almost choke at my mother's language and pull back from the cup she's holding for me.

"Sorry," she says, dabbing at my chin with a napkin. I take it from her. "How are you feeling now?" she asks.

I inhale a deep breath and then exhale, assessing what my body is telling me. My mind is surprisingly clear; I can even remember what I was just dreaming about, right down to the moment when I realized the knocking sound I heard wasn't my dream anymore. As I continue to breathe, there's a deep aching feeling coming from my left shoulder and my lower back hurts a little, but other than that...

"I'm okay," I say. My voice is rough, barely more than a whisper.

"Are you in any pain?"

I inhale again, slowly, and reach up to touch my shoulder. I touch it lightly and wince a little.

"Some."

"We'll let the nurses know."

"Who's at the door?" I rasp, lifting my chin that way.

Mom frowns. "The FBI. They want your statement so they can move things along in the case against the man who shot you.

"He was after Bella."

"I know, honey."

"Any word on her, Mom?"

She sighs and gives me a wary look. "No," she says hesitantly, watching for my reaction.

"I'm not going to freak out," I say, vaguely remembering the panic attack I experienced when I first realized how long it had been since I last saw Bella. "I just need to know. At some point soon, I need to know where she is. That she's okay."

"I understand. I feel the same way," Mom whispers, trying and failing to control her emotions. While I know for certain she doesn't feel exactly the same way I do, I know she loves Bella in her own way.

When the curtain in front of the door slides back, she wipes at her eyes frantically.

"Esme? Love, what is it?" Dad asks.

She shakes her head and waves him off, turning her back to the room to wipe her eyes.

He looks concerned, but joins me at my bedside. I notice Tori walking up behind him.

"Edward, it's good to see you awake," Dad says.

"Yeah, Ed," Tori adds, smiling mischievously. "You scared the living crap out of everyone. What gives?"

I chuckle, wincing when the movement causes some discomfort. I smile anyway. "What can I say? I guess since I never saw any action while I was in the Navy..."

She inhales a laugh, even as her bottom lip quivers and her eyes flood with tears.

"You big idiot! How can you even joke about that?"

I smile apologetically at her and Dad wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to rub her arm.

"I'm sorry, Tor," I say softly. "I wasn't trying to get hurt."

She nods and sniffles. "Yeah, sure. Just don't ever do it again."

"I'll try not to," I laugh. This time I hiss at the pain. "Okay, that hurts."

Dad removes his arms from Tori and clears his throat. "The attending physician is already on his way in to check you out. After that the nurse will be able to give you some pain meds."

I nod. "Okay."

"In the meantime... How are you feeling?" he asks, leaning forward to exam me for himself.

I sigh. "Okay. Some pain. Still a little tired. Hungry, but not. Does that make any sense?"

"It does," he says, putting his personal stethoscope in his ears. "Just breathe normally."

I do and watch his face as he does his thing. It's kind of odd to see him from this angle.

"The bullet did a real number on your shoulder, son. You may require more surgery and physical therapy at some point, but it's still too early to tell. Additionally, you lost a lot of blood when you were shot. There were some serious complications from that, which is why you were in ICU until yesterday and also why we sedated you last night. There is an increased risk of blood clots until you're up and mobile again, and unfortunately, your kidney function was compromised as well, so you'll be watched very closely until that resolves itself."

I nod as he speaks. I understand most of what he saying. I have questions, but they can wait. It obvious my father has more to say.

"That said," he smiles sadly, removing his stethoscope from his ears, "Like Emmett told you yesterday, there are still people who want to speak to you. Do you think you're up for it?"

I nod. "Yes, as long as they give me some answers in return."

Dad smiles wearily. "Well, good luck with that. However, I'm not allowing anyone to interview you until the physician on record agrees that you're stable enough anyway. Okay?"

"Sure. Thanks, Dad."

"I'd tell you anytime, but I'd rather not repeat this experience again as long as I live."

"Me either," I smile tightly. I reach up and tentatively feel for the wound on my shoulder.

"It's healing nicely," Dad comments. "You have some staples that will come out in a couple of days. The incision was about five inches long and ran from here," he points to his own shoulder and draws a line, "...to here."

Tori shudders. "Um, Dad, you're grossing me out."

He chuckles and lowers his arm. "Sorry, sweetheart."

I press lightly against the hospital gown and gauze beneath it. I don't have time to ask any more questions, however, because there's a polite knock on the door a moment before it opens.

Two men and a young woman walk in. My father and sister move aside to allow them near the bed. The girl I remember, she's the girl with the light-blue eyes who ripped the tape off my face yesterday when they took me off the ventilator.

She has a thermometer in one hand and a small plastic pitcher of what I assume is more ice water in the other. The taller of the two men, the one in the scrubs, follows behind her and goes straight to the panel of machines behind my bed, pressing a button before smiling at me and then the rest of my family. I feel the blood pressure cuff on my good arm inflate.

The other man, presumably my doctor, is reading a chart and looking over the monitors, ignoring the rest of us altogether. I find myself wondering if my father does that when he tends to patients, and I shoot him a questioning look. He shrugs.

The tall guy in the scrubs moves to my bedside and checks my IV line, or rather both IV lines coming out of my arm. The girl asks me to open up and places the thermometer in my mouth.

"So, Edward, I'm Jake, I'll be your day nurse. That's Angie, she'll be your nurse tech."

I nod. A moment or two later the thermometer beeps and Angie takes it back.

"98.9, pretty good," she smiles.

Jake writes it down on a notepad and then looks back at me. "How's your pain this morning?"

"Uh, it's painful."

He smiles and nods. "On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst–"

"Six," I answer, not needing him to explain the scale they use.

"Very good."

"Excuse me?" my sister speaks up from across the room. I turn my head to find her staring at the nurse with an eyebrow arched and her arms crossed over her chest.

Jake chuckles. "Okay, it's not good, but I just meant that I'm glad he's not in extreme pain. Don't worry. We'll get him down to a zero in a couple minutes."

The doctor clears his throat and we all turn our attention to him. He hands my chart over the bed to Jake and then smiles.

"Good morning, everyone. Edward, I apologize for not introducing myself right away, but you are sort of our priority patient at the moment. I was doing my due diligence." He chuckles and crosses his arms. "I have all but a court order from a judge forbidding me to let you die."

"Very funny, Eleazar," my father says, clearly not amused.

"Well, I try, Carlisle."

"Edward, this is Dr. Denali."

"Nice to meet you," I say out of habit. Truthfully, I'd rather not have met him. At least not like this.

His smile tells me he knows what I'm thinking. He shakes my hand anyway.

"You, too. I hear you're quite the hero."

I shake my head. "No, not really. I was an idiot." I didn't feel like filling anyone in on the exact details at the moment though.

"Edward..." Mom protests.

"Esme," Dad says, stopping her. He takes her hand and pulls her in front of him, then wraps his arms around her from behind and whispers something in her ear.

The sight of them like that makes my heart hurt. I look away and try not to think of the fact that Bella's been taken from us... from me.

Dr. Denali clears his throat. "So, I imagine your father gave you a run-down of your injuries already?"

I take a breath, collecting myself before answering. "Only my shoulder, and something about my kidneys."

"Yes, in cases of extreme blood loss like yours, kidney function can be severely compromised. The bullet that penetrated your shoulder nicked your left Subclavian artery, which I may or may not need to tell you, is a major artery. You lost almost 50% of your blood volume and required extraordinary measures to save your life, including rapid infusion of donor blood and other intravenous fluids. Unfortunately, in some patients, the sudden reintroduction of large amounts of fluids can put a strain on the kidneys, and you ended up being one of those patients."

"Am I okay now?"

Dr. Denali places a hand on my good shoulder. "You're on your way back, Edward. With any luck, you'll be out of the CCU by tonight."

"Is that too soon?" my mother asks.

"His blood work will tell us," Dr. Denali answers. "Which means... the only bad news I have for you at this point is that I have no reason to deny the agents investigating your case an interview with you. I'll have to send them in just as soon as we get some blood taken and get you some pain meds."

My father raises a hand up to object to something.

"Not in that order of course, Carlisle," Dr. Denali says, waving him off before turning to Jake. "Go ahead with the oral dosage we discussed, every four hours. It's on his chart. Also, get another kidney panel on him."

"Sure thing, Doctor," he says. He turns to me with a big grin. "I'll be back in a few."

I nod, slightly afraid of his enthusiasm, and then he and Angie excuse themselves from the room.

Dr. Denali waits until they're gone before speaking again. "Do you have any questions for me?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm just tired again... and a little hungry... and my shoulder hurts."

He nods. "Well, that's all perfectly normal. I'll tell Jake you want to eat and he'll get you squared away." He looks at my dad then. "Liquids only until we get his creatinine level back, then soft solids for the first twenty-four hours."

My dad agrees and Dr. Denali leaves the room. Impossibly, I feel completely wiped out by that one little conversation.

By the time Nurse Jake returns, I'm already impossibly drowsy again. He gives me my pain pills and then recites my lunch options while he draws some blood. He takes care of his task quickly, gets my order for chicken broth, lime gelatin, and ginger ale, and then departs.

Mom and Dad make small talk for a little while about the need for more male nurses in health care. The seriousness with which they discuss this makes me smile, and my sister has to bite down on her fist to keep from laughing.

She eventually gets up and joins me on the edge of my bed while Mom and Dad continue to talk. Her smile fades and she gingerly touches the tape holding my IV in place. I can tell there's something on her mind, but it takes her a while before she finally gets up the nerve to say whatever it is she has to say. I'm almost asleep again by the time she gets around to it.

"What happened, Edward? When I left you guys at Mom and Dad's, everything was fine. How did..." She stopped, swallowing hard and biting her lip for a moment. "How did this happen?"

I look at her, for a moment getting a glimpse of the scared, but very angry girl I first met thirteen years ago. My mouth opens to form words, but I'm at a loss at where to start.

She does it for me. "Emmett said you told him she got recognized at the movie theater. That she was some kind of famous athlete?"

I smile weakly. "She..." I stop for a moment, my mind overwhelmed by the emotions that I experience just simply talking about Bella. Tori waits while I gather my thoughts. "She was an Olympian, Tor... She got a gold medal in competitive shooting."

Across the room I hear my mother's quick intake of breath. When I look towards her, she and my father are wearing matching expressions of shock. I realize my pain meds have kicked in and I'm a little... loose, for lack of a better descriptor. I probably shouldn't have said that. Or, I don't know... maybe it doesn't matter anymore.

"She won the Women's 50 meter... um, something with a rifle," I continue for the hell of it. "Oh, and she also had a second event and came in like... maybe eleventh? Yeah, or was it ninth?"

"She... won a medal for marksmanship?" my father asks, his voice incredulous. "With a rifle?"

I chuckle lightly. "Apparently."

Tori frowns at me. "You're high."

"I am not."

I get the eye-roll. "Yes, you are."

"I'm not," I insist. "I'm tired and just, I don't know..."

"High."

"Victoria, please," Mom sighs.

I yawn quite suddenly and feel the room spin a bit.

Dad clears his throat. "It probably is the pain medication, son. The dizziness should subside when you've had something to eat."

I nod and he helps lower the head of my bed some. "Rest now. We'll wake you when your lunch arrives."

"Thanks," I say, stifling another yawn. I don't really care about lunch, even though I'm hungry. I don't bother to fight it when my eyelids get heavy, even though I've been asleep for days.

I know who and what I'll see when I close my eyes, and right now, that's so much more appealing than Jello.

~(~)~(~)~

BPOV–

"Again! Another round of epi! Charge to three-sixty! And we need more blood, people! We're losing him!"

"Edward..."

I whimper and try to make my feet move.

"Clear!" they shout.

"Edward!"

I try to scream, but no sound will come out.

With a jolt, I wake up, my stomach suddenly feeling as though it's in my throat and my hands flail out to grab on to whatever I can find to steady me. One palm slaps against something cold and hard at my right. A window. The other finds something pliable and smooth right in front of me. A vinyl covered seat?

"Easy there, Bella..." a mechanically amplified voice says.

I start at the sound. It's too close to my ears.

"You're okay. It's just a bit of turbulence. We've had to navigate around a storm front."

I blink and look around, completely unaware of where I am. Grasping onto the seatback in front of me, I reach up to touch the headset covering my ears. At the same time, my stomach lurches again as the small plane I've suddenly found myself in dips down sharply.

I let out a squeal as the floor shudders beneath me a bit. I clench my eyes shut and try to figure out how I got here. Am I dreaming? Why am I so confused?

"You're okay, Isabella," the voice repeats. I open my eyes and find the owner.

Garrett is seated in front of me on the left side of the plane. The pilot's seat, I presume. My breath starts coming faster as I take in my surroundings.

Vinyl seats, glass dials, and electronic switches. Small windows, narrow doors, and seatbelts with shoulder straps. A blur of motion that could only be a propeller is visible through the front windshield. The hum of an engine is steady and too loud, much more so than the engine of a car or truck.

My head turns to the side almost without my permission. I'm unable not to look. I stare out the window, stunned. There's nothing there but blue sky and white clouds. Well, mostly white, some are dark grey.

I look away, down at my feet. I'm now shaking and breathing too fast. I've never been afraid of flying, but then, I've never flown quite like this before. My heart is pounding. I don't even know how I got here.

It takes a few minutes to calm myself enough to try to remember. My mind struggles in a way it shouldn't. I can't think clearly and get frustrated as the memories come together out of order and disjointed. Then suddenly...

I remember.

I remember Edward.

I remember him getting shot while trying to save me. I remember rushing him to the hospital and what happened after.

"Oh, God..."

My heart starts racing again, faster now, and angry tears fill my eyes. The confusion seems to wash away with them.

I remember passing out in Kate's arms when his heart stopped. I remember waking up in an SUV and screaming for Garrett to turn around. I remember arriving at a marina on the other side of Sequim and panicking with the realization that he really meant to take me away while Edward was fighting for his life, or worse.

I remember begging... crying... shouting. I remember slapping Garrett after he picked me up and carried me onto his boat. I remember Kate's distressed plea for me to cooperate, and her husband's veiled threat that he would force me to cooperate if he had to.

He must have done just that. Now the question is...

Where are we?

~(~)~(~)~


Bella will be back with more next week. I know... other than some lovely Edward memories, there was not a lot of forward motion in this chapter, but hang in there with me. Please?

-Ginnie