Once again, huge tackle-hugs & thank yous to SueBee, my lovely BetaFairy! She got this back to me in just under 24 hours! Thank you as well for all the Tweets, rec's and reviews from all the readers out there this week! It felt like my inbox exploded at one point. :) Hugs, everyone!

Disclaimer: I still do not own Twilight, its characters, or any other copyrighted material. I'm just borrowing. Sadly, I'm also just borrowing the seaplane and the cabin. ;-)


Chapter 15:

BPOV-

"You need to eat, Isabella."

"I'm not hungry right now."

"You said that this morning and last night."

I sigh. "Just leave it, please. I'll eat when I feel like it."

"Isabella..."

I pull the covers back over my head and pull my knees up to my chest. "Later," I mumble.

"If you don't eat tonight I'm going to hold you down and pour it down your throat, girl. You're too little already to be on a hunger strike."

I say nothing as a single tear slides down my cheek. It's not a hunger strike, I just can't think about food at all right now. The images on a continuous loop in my brain won't allow me to.

I hear Garrett let out a small growl of frustration. "Okay, look... the water heater is up and running. The tank should have had time to heat up by now, so you can have the first shower if you want."

I don't answer right away. He gives up after a moment.

"Fine, but if you change your mind, the bathroom's all yours."

His footsteps retreat towards the door.

"Thank you," I say at the last minute.

"You're welcome," he answers, closing the door behind him.

Tears fall freely then; tears for how I've treated Garrett, tears for Edward, tears for my parents, tears for Edward's parents, tears for the whole effed up situation.

The crying only subsides as I allow the void to take me once again. I feel numb when I get to this point and it's a relief. It's the only time I have control over my emotions, but it will be lost the moment I have to deal with reality again.

I slowly pull the blankets down a bit so I can look at something other than plain burgundy cotton. It's dark in the room, the time now well after midnight. My dinner remains haphazardly placed on the nightstand. A pile of clean clothes, that I assume must have belonged to Kate, sit on the top of the dresser along with a few other necessities purchased for me in Hyder. I avoid looking in the mirror on the wall behind them, afraid of what I'll see staring back at me.

In my avoidance, I realize the cabin is silent save the sound of my breathing and the hiss of the heater. Listening for a little longer, I decide that Garrett has likely fallen asleep in the other room.

It takes me a few more moments of deliberation before I sit up and allow the blankets to fall away from my body for the first time since this morning. Admittedly, I've been in the bed almost non-stop since Garrett opened up the tiny cabin, but it's not like there are a lot of options here anyway. Even if I was in the mood to explore, I wouldn't get very far.

Other than the single bedroom—a simple square space with a dresser and closet on one wall, and a bed and nightstand sandwiched between two windows on another wall—and a bathroom, there is really only the one room to the cabin. It has a monstrous stone fireplace in the center that serves to divide the space without the use of additional barriers.

One corner of the main room holds a tiny, old fashioned kitchen. Another corner serves as a small living area, while a third contains a desk, book shelves and other storage. The last corner of the room, the corner adjacent to the kitchen, functions as both a pantry and a laundry room. It has more shelving and a tiny, apartment size washer and dryer. Between the kitchen area and the laundry area is the door to the bathroom. From what I can tell, the slightly more modern space appears to be an addition to the original structure.

All together, the entire cabin is probably less than eight hundred square feet, or roughly the same size as my first apartment. It's simple and functional, but also decorated very well for such a rustic and remote location. It's got clean lines and has a uniform color scheme throughout. There is also a touch of femininity here and there in the decor. Between that, and the few pictures of Kate and Garrett around, I decide this must be a place they share together and not just some top secret hide out Garrett uses while working for people like Jasper Whitlock.

For some reason, I find that thought comforting. The cabin isn't meant to be a prison. It only feels like one because I'm so desperate to be someplace else.

Eventually, I tentatively swing my legs out of the bed. I don't really know if I can emotionally handle something as simple as a shower right now, despite the fact I desperately need one. The grimy feeling of the last few days' travel is what ultimately moves me.

I stand, hoping not to make too much noise on the creaky wood floor. It's cold to me, even through my socks, and I shiver the moment I'm up. My jeans shift around me uncomfortably as I stretch. I try not to think about how long I've been in them, or how I got into them to begin with.

My heart aches with a phantom pang of discomfort when the memory comes to me anyway. Kate had to practically force me out of the bloodied clothes I'd been wearing when we left Port Angeles. I may have told her to go do something rather crude to herself at the time, but I was grateful now that she'd persisted.

I can't imagine how it would feel to have the physical evidence of Edward's injuries on my body at this point. Just the dried blood I'd had to scrub out from under my fingernails last night had been too much for me.

Making my way across the small room, I sort through the clothes on top of the dresser and find something that will work for pajamas. I also grab a fresh pair of thick socks and pull open a package of new undergarments I had no idea Garrett purchased. Or maybe Kate kept things like this lying around? Either way, I feel grateful.

With fresh clothing gathered, I venture out of the bedroom. The door creaks loudly when I open it, but the uninterrupted sound of snoring coming from the other side of the main room lets me know it wasn't too loud. In fact, Garrett continues snoring even when I trip over the threshold to the bathroom and bang into the door.

Huh...

Watching him sleeping on the sofa for a moment, I decide he must feel comfortable that no one will find us here. He's out cold, and it was always my experience with Jasper and Alice that these people slept with one eye open at all times. Metaphorically speaking.

Once inside the bathroom, I use the toilet while waiting for the water to heat up. It's still pretty cool when I'm done, so I wash my hands and brush my teeth while I wait some more. I'm not surprised by the slight heartache even these mundane tasks cause. The Cullens had a new, energy efficient "tankless" water heater in their house. It provided instant hot water and I remember quite vividly that Edward was quite jealous he didn't have one at his place. He'd told me as much when we showered together after making love.

My cheeks flush; a surprise to be sure.

Was that really just three days ago?

I stand with my hand in the slowly warming water and wonder what today would have brought had everything not gone to hell. Would we have been in Forks still? If so, we would have been back at school this morning. I would have had to sit through his class and not blush at his every glance. He would have had to teach his lesson and not react to the heat in my gaze when he leaned against his desk and crossed his arms over his well-muscled chest, as he often did.

When would we have been able to be together again? Would we have had a torrid, secret affair—stealing intimate moments when no one was looking? Or would we have come clean with Emmett, Esme, and Carlisle no matter the consequences?

Finally, the shower is hot and I step inside. I'm helpless to stop the flood of other memories that hit me once I'm standing under the water. While the liquid saturates my hair and runs over my face, I close my eyes and allow images of Edward to saturate my mind. I smile despite myself, remembering his hungry eyes as he stared unabashedly at me in this same position.

At the time, I'd raised my arms and run my hands over my hair and down my body seductively, giving him a teasing smile. He'd growled and told me to knock it off before he ended up doing something that my recently well-loved body wasn't ready for. I didn't tell him how that thought somewhat excited me.

Instead, I apologized and swapped places with him so he could have a turn under the water. We allowed our conversation to become earnest then, sharing our life histories and re-learning everything about each other. He had more to re-learn than I, of course, but I still found out a few things about him that surprised me.

"Favorite movie?"

"Star Wars," he answered without pause.

"Star Wars?"

His eyes widen comically at my giggle.

"Please don't tell me you're one of those weirdos who hates Star Wars."

I laugh again and shake my head. "No, I don't hate it. It's a classic, I guess. I just..."

"What?"

I smile and step closer to him, running a hand through his wet hair. "It's cute."

His hands find purchase around my waist again. "It's not cute. Men are not cute. And a lot of men like Star Wars."

I giggle again. "Yeah, I guess they do. You don't happen to go to conventions and stuff to meet up with these men, do you?"

He narrows his eyes playfully. "Not anymore."

"Anymore!" I laugh.

"I told you I was a geek in high school," he smirks.

I giggle softly and lay my head against his chest as he pulls me closer. "I was a nobody in high school. Well, at least I was until I won a national title and made the local news."

His lips touched the top of my wet head. "I can see that."

I look up at him, confused by what he means.

He smiles, kissing me softly on the lips this time before explaining. "I just meant that I can see the reflection of your own high school experience back then, in the way you treat others in school now."

When I continue to be confused, he laughs and spins us a bit in the water. "You treat everyone with respect, even those that don't deserve it. You made a point of befriending the friendless and underappreciated. Don't think that went unnoticed. It's an exceptional trait in a teenager. Although, I still find it exceptional in spite of the fact you're really twenty-two."

I blink at him, my cheeks heating under his praise. He leans down and touches his lips to mine, effectively changing the subject.

Several long, tender minutes later, he murmurs close to my ear while massaging conditioner into my hair.

"Tell me about the Olympics. What did you think of China?"

I smile. "It was amazing. So different, and a little scary too, but amazing. I don't know if I can put the whole experience into words."

"Were your parents able to go with you? Or did you travel with the team?"

"My parents came with me. My dad wouldn't have missed seeing me shoot for the world, and my mother wouldn't have missed the Great Wall, or the food."

Edward looks at me askance. "The food?"

I laugh, then smile nostalgically. "She watched a lot of the Travel Channel. Have you ever heard of Anthony Bourdain?"

"I don't think so." He wrinkled his forehead in thought.

"He's the host of what was one of her favorite shows. The guy travels the globe seeking out the most unique foods imaginable." I take a deep breath. "Mom always wanted to do the same. China was her first chance."

Edward wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling my back up against his chest and holding me in his perfect arms.

"How did she like it?" he asks softly, understanding when it takes me a moment to answer.

"She loved it. Even the stuff she hated, she tried to at least appreciate. She was just so enthusiastic about the whole thing. Just so... Renee."

I sigh and Edward hums, continuing to anchor me to him. Eventually, I turn my head and smile to tell him I'm okay. He steps backwards with me, releasing me so that I can rinse my hair under the water while he asks his next question.

"Did you participate in the opening ceremony?"

"Yes."

"So if I find it on YouTube or something, will I see you?"

I laugh a little. "You might. For like, a millisecond. There were several hundred athletes there just from the U.S."

Long fingers stroke the curve of my spine. "Were you towards the front or back?"

"The middle."

"On the left or right?" His fingers trail to the left and right landing on my hips.

"I have no idea," I say, trembling slightly.

He chuckles and rests his chin on my shoulder.

"I bet I can find you."

I turn in his arms and gaze into his eyes. "I bet you can, too."

The memory, like the cold water now running down on me, makes me shiver and brings me back to the present with a start. Warm tears spill over as I turn off the shower and grab a towel. My entire body shakes as I dry myself. I'm not sure if it's because I let the water run cold, or because I got lost in thoughts of Edward.

His voice echoes in my mind as I wrap my towel tightly around my body and reach for another to dry my hair.

"I bet I can find you."

God, how I wish he would. I wish that he could.

That last thought stirs me to begin a new round of tears and silent prayers for him. I never realized I had any kind of faith in a higher power, but my fear for Edward's safety has apparently brought it out in me.

Please... Please don't take him.

I repeat my mantra for a while, refusing to allow myself to think of the alternative. Once I'm dressed again and get my hair up in one of the towels, I leave the bathroom and make my way back to bed. I'm still freezing from the way I let my shower end, so I climb under the covers immediately, wrapping them around me the best that I can so I can still brush my hair. I stare out the window into the night until I cannot keep my eyes open any longer.

It's sunny when I wake up the next morning, the sound of my door clicking shut apparently having roused me. Rolling over and peeking out through the blankets and my very wild hair, I see that my dinner from last night is gone. I never did eat it, but a small twinge in my stomach tells me I'll probably eat something this morning.

I'm sure that will make Garrett happy. Or maybe not. I can't really get a good feel for him, so who knows? Maybe he was looking forward to having to force sustenance down my throat.

Not surprisingly, I can hear him moving around in the kitchen, but I don't get up and go out there. The most I can manage to do is to grab my hairbrush out of the bedding and try to tame the haystack masquerading as hair on top of my head. I spot the clock on the nightstand and am shocked to see that I slept so long. It's nearly noon.

A light knock on the door is followed by the sound of Garrett's voice.

"Knock, knock."

He's done this every time he's entered the room in the past two days, but I actually reply for the first time. "Come in."

The surprise on his face is immediately evident when he opens the door. "Oh, you are up."

I shrug. "Yeah, I guess."

"I hope I didn't wake you earlier when I came in. I was just checking on you. Making sure you were still breathing and all that."

I nod. "I figured."

"Okay, good. So..."

"So," I answer, my voice lifting in a question.

"So you need to eat today. I had oatmeal, but we also have pancake mix and I could make you that. Or there's dry cereal. No eggs though. They were out in Hyder."

"I remember."

He nods. "Good."

"Oatmeal is fine."

He looks dubious. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good. You drink coffee? Or I think Kate has some tea here, too."

"Coffee's fine," I answer.

"Sugar and milk?"

"Please. For the oatmeal, too."

"Good. That's good. I'm glad you're eating."

I shrug again and look at my hands in my lap. "Thanks for checking on me. And for... cooking for me and stuff. I know I slapped you... and I yelled, and..."

"It's okay. It comes with the territory. Trust me."

"Okay."

He's quiet a moment. "I'll be back. Unless you want to come out. You can come out anytime you want. Watch a movie, grab a book, whatever."

"Um, thanks," I say, knowing I'm not likely to take him up on that right now.

He nods once and takes his leave with an expression that's not quite a smile, but something close.

The rest of the day proceeds in much the same way. I try to be kind to Garrett. He tries to keep me fed and encourages me to stay strong. I get sick of the kid gloves pretty fast though and eventually I close the door to my room, telling him I'm tired.

It's true to an extent, but when I lie down and hide myself under the covers, sleep evades me. Every time I close my eyes I'm accosted by more memories, both good and bad. I want to concentrate on the good ones, but I'm afraid if I do that, I'll just make the reality of my current situation seem even worse.

By the time darkness falls and the cabin becomes quiet again, I've given up on sleep. Like last night, I creep out of my room to the bathroom just after midnight. I do what I need to do, showering without wetting my hair this time, and then tiptoe back. I sit and stare through the windows again, and just like the night before, sleep only finds me when I'm finally and wholly exhausted.

The pattern continues for two more days. Wednesday morning, or afternoon technically, I wake up from pleasant dreams that are almost a shock to the system. I lie staring at the wood paneled ceiling, replaying them like a masochist. I can't help it, I know it will hurt in the end, but they were too wonderful to ignore or forget.

In my dream, Edward had been in Beijing with me for the Olympics. He met my father and mother and they loved him, of course. He was there cheering for me when I shot for my gold medal. Only for some reason, in my dream it was a silver instead. Not that I cared now. The mere idea of Edward side by side with my parents, a smile on his face and one of my mother's homemade Team USA/Team Bella pennant's in his hand, was too enrapturing to nitpick over.

When I've exhausted the play by play in my head, I roll on my side and think of other impossible things. I imagine Edward at my parents' home in Phoenix, chatting with Charlie over a disassembled rifle on the table. My mother would tell them they had an hour before she wanted her table back for dinner, then she would retreat with me into the kitchen where she would press for details that would make my cheeks burn.

For some reason, I try to imagine the reverse scenario. I try to envision me at the Cullen's house in the role of new girlfriend. I try to imagine how Carlisle and Esme would have treated me if I'd only ever met them because of Edward. It's difficult to do, and my happy morning comes to an abrupt halt when I realize they would likely never get past the fact that I nearly got their son killed. The thought is illogical in my imagined scenario, but still pervasive. I lose control at that point, the images coming to me growing darker and darker, until I'm a sobbing mess.

Garrett comes to check on me, but by this point, all I want to know is when we can contact Alice. I need to know if Edward is all right.

"Tomorrow," Garrett says simply before requesting that I come out of the bedroom for a while so we can discuss what will happen then.

It takes me some time to calm down, but eventually I'm seated at the small table in the kitchen area. Garrett tells me he has to leave the next morning in order to find cell phone service for Alice's call. He also wants to be a minimum of one hundred miles from his cabin, just in case.

"Not that I anticipate Alice making a mistake twice, but I like my cabin."

I stare at him blankly until he sighs and gives me just the facts. He'll be flying into Juneau and waiting for Alice's call there. He'll be getting supplies while he's out; I can ask him for anything and he'll get it for me. He'll be back by dark, but perhaps most significantly, I'll be staying here alone.

"No one will find you here. I promise."

I nod, too mentally exhausted to ask him what to do if some local fisherman happens by, or a bear comes out of the woods or something.

Will he leave me some way of protecting myself? Or is he too wary of my emotional state to even leave the kitchen knives here when he goes?

I don't ask, but instead concentrate on the fact that—by this time tomorrow—I'll know if Edward lives. Or not.

I don't sleep that night.

I scarcely move while Garrett is gone.

I can barely breathe again until I hear the hum of an engine and the distinct sound of the seaplane landing on the icy water out in the cove the next evening.

"Knock, knock."

I've never been so glad, or more afraid, to hear Garrett's ridiculous greeting.

"Come in," I say shakily.

"Have you been in here the whole time?"

I shrug and sit up, wrapping my arms around my knees tightly.

Garrett sighs and gestures to the bed, asking permission. I nod and he sits.

"So, Alice was able to get a call out to me."

My heart lurches. "And..."

Garrett keeps his eyes locked on mine. "And... Edward is still in intensive care. He's stable, but Alice says she spoke to his brother this morning and, at that time, they were still waiting for him to wake up."

"So..." I say, trying to keep calm. "He's in a coma or something?"

Garrett shakes his head. "I don't really know. Alice said that he had surgery to stop the bleeding and repair his shoulder, but there were some complications. She believed that the doctors were keeping him sedated in order to help his body heal, at least that was according to his brother. She said to tell you she'd know more in a couple of days."

"Oh." I had no idea what else to say, or even what to think. "So... that's it? That's all she told you? Or is that what she told you to say? You're sure you don't know anything else?"

"That's pretty much all I know, kiddo."

I take a moment to process that. To process the idea of Edward alive, but still in intensive care. That he was possibly sedated and still suffering complications from the surgery to save his life nearly a week later.

I shake my head, my breathing growing uneven. I was hoping for relief, but it's just not there. I've been given nothing concrete to hold onto with this information.

From the corner of my eye I see Garrett reach out to me, like he's going to pat my hand or leg or something. I stand up to stop him.

"Did she at least say whether or not he's expected to pull through?" I ask shortly, backing away from the bed.

Garrett shakes his head.

"Well, did she say if... if it's not looking... good, or...something?" My voice fails me, and I choke on the words a little.

"I'm sorry, no. She didn't say. And I didn't think to ask."

I take a rough breath. Garrett leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

"I wish I knew more, Isabella. But I don't. At least we know that he's still alive and stable."

For now, my traitorous brain adds. Edward's pale, lifeless face flashes through my consciousness again, making me wince.

"Are you all right?"

I shake my head. "Not really, no."

"Okay..." Garrett says, sort of shifting uncomfortably. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I shake my head.

"That's fine. I get it."

"Do you?" I question, biting back an acerbic laugh as tears fill my eyes unbidden.

Garrett smiles sadly. "I do. I've seen some shit in my time. I know you've seen some shit. Alice filled me in a little bit more about your parents, you know."

I shake my head to stop him from continuing. "Can we not have that conversation, please? Just tell me what else Alice said about Edward. And did she say how this happened? Is the guy who did this still in jail? When can I go home?"

Home... I'm a bit startled by the fact that I'm referring to Forks, Washington as home, but Garrett starts talking before I can really concentrate on why.

"You aren't going anywhere for a while. Alice is going to call again in a few days and she'll need at least a week to work things out, but she's coming here to get you. The asshole who ran them off the road and then tried to kill you and your foster-brother whatever-he-is? He turned out to be an FBI agent, kiddo. And, yes, he's still in custody, but there are multiple agencies investigating the incident and Alice still isn't 100% sure exactly how or why everything went down the way it did. So it's going to be a while before you can go back."

"But... Edward… and the Cullens... Who will protect them?" I ask.

Garrett chuckles. "Not you. You can't protect them, kiddo. And if anything, your presence would only place them in greater danger."

I nod, knowing he's right. A tear slips down my cheek and I wipe it away furiously.

Garrett stands and heads for the door. "I'm certain Alice would make sure they're looked after. She already feels responsible for what happened."

"It's not her fault," I say quickly.

He sighs. "It's not your fault either."

I don't respond.

"Jasper said hello."

I gasp and spin around, horrified that I'd completely forgotten about him and hadn't even thought to ask about his condition, or even Alice's, before now.

"Is he alright? I never even asked. Is Alice alright?"

"Alice is fine. Cuts and bruises only. But Jasper... well, he has a spinal cord injury. He'll need a lot of rehab and stuff. It looks like he's out of the game, probably for good, but we'll see."

"Oh, my God..." I gasp.

Garrett nods. "I know. But he's in good spirits from what I understand. Alice says he keeps telling her he'll be back on the job and driving her crazy again soon –which does sound like him."

"Will he be back? I mean... his spine? Isn't he... Doesn't that mean he's paralyzed?"

"I don't know."

I shake my head, losing my composure, and slump heavily against the dresser next to me. "I can't believe any of this. It just doesn't seem real."

"It never does," Garrett says. "But life goes on. It may not seem that way now, but it does. I'll give you some time to yourself."

I can hear the door creaking behind me, so I turn around quickly.

"Wait!"

Garrett pauses, raising an eyebrow.

I feel my cheeks heat a little for the first time in nearly a week and look away. "Please, Garrett... Is there anything else you can tell me about Edward or the Cullens? Anything at all?"

He sighs. "They're worried about you. And..." He squints, and then shakes his head. "That's it. Alice didn't say anything else except for what I already told you."

I sniffle and thank him quietly before turning back around and moving to the window. Pressing my forehead against the cold glass does nothing to stem the ache in my heart, but it does seem to keep me from breaking down completely.

He's alive, I tell myself. He's alive and...

"That's all that matters," I whisper, my breath fogging the glass. "He's alive."

I hear Garrett leave and shut the door. My head instinctively turns toward the sound, and I glance around the room before looking back outside. Pressing my hand against the glass longingly, as if I could reach all the way back to Washington, I tell myself I can survive this—I can survive anything— if only Edward would just wake up and be all right.

"Please be all right, baby. Wake up."

Hours later, when I finally surrender to the physical and mental exhaustion of the day, it's with those words on my heart.

Wake up, Edward... Please, wake up.

~(~)~


Just in case the timeline is confusing with the alternating POVs, the end of this chapter coincides with the end of Edward's Chapter 12.

FYI- I'm off to New Jersey for a week. The next chapter is pre-written, so unless my nephews have a game or my brother-in-law planned something I'm not aware of, the next update will be on Friday, as usual.

(And if you don't mind, please pray I can find some writing time while I'm there. I don't know how that's gonna go with my sister-in-law, six kids, and three boisterous men in the house, LOL!)

-Ginnie