Disclaimer: No. I still don't own them.
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When I woke up, I was in a tree. Not under a tree, not against a tree, in a tree, about forty feet from the ground. At least I think I was awake; it actually felt more like I was floating around just below the surface of a strangely dense, green pond. I couldn't feel my limbs. They were there, I could tell that- but they were so very numb that they might as well have been stitched to my forehead. The pain was gone. Or so I thought, until I attempted to roll over…
"OUCH!" There it was again, coursing viciously through my arteries and bringing those ubiquitous tears to my eyes. I could sure feel my arms now. It was a bit too much feeling for my liking.
So anyways. I was in a tree, on a branch, dying of pain and possible blood loss, and slowly beginning to doubt my existence. There was nothing around me, no one to hear me. The pain wasn't my own; it couldn't be. No one should be able endure this type of pain, no mortals, nor vampires, nor…
"Bella!" Edward was in front of my face in second, gently caressing my face with his hands and massaging my frozen limbs back into order. I could hardly see him though he was right in front of me. My eyes were tired, foggy, strained from the pain and thoroughly defiant of my brains orders to stay awake. "Bella, stop looking through me."
It was strange how he understood. His hands were cold but oddly comforting, and his voice alert and desperate but strangely conscientious. I wanted so badly to reach out to touch him, to speak to him, but every ounce of my being was frozen, even the blood in my veins which should have been working to warm me up.
Suddenly I snapped to attention, pained and agonizingly sore, thrashing out and whimpering like some sort of a wild creature. I couldn't control it. Edward was on top of me at once, covering my mouth and making strange facial expressions that, on any other day, I would have completely understood and taken heed of, but today it was nothing to me. All I wanted was to stop feeling…
"Would you stop moving?!" He whispered harshly, more irritated than anything. "You're simply going to have to stop. I can't do anything if you kick me every time I get near you."
"Edwardi'mdead." I strung my words together so that I wouldn't have to breathe.
"You'll be even deader if you don't stop moving," he warned heatedly, gripping my wrists with one hand and using the other to keep us from falling of the branch. "Not to mention if we fall out of this tree."
"But I feel…"
"Just… shhh! Okay? I'm attempting to help you."
His fingers were needles in the side of my neck as he gently felt at the wound. Each time his skin came in contact with mine I shuddered, and each time I shuddered he dug his fingernails into my wrists, a gentle warning that we weren't completely safe. As he examined my neck his expression changed gradually from one of concern to one of derision, and from there to a look of pure unadulterated hatred. With absolutely no warning at all he released my wrists and covered my mouth and nose with his hand, allowing no air to be gasped into my eager lungs. He held me there for God knows how long; I waited desperately for that feeling, the lightheaded feeling that comes from a lack of oxygen, but it never came.
Without moving his hands Edward whispered, calmly, "Dammit."