A/N: Leah42683 and Kaydee1005 I couldn't do this without you both. AndrewsLove0491 i adore you completely.

smyers09 you have been amazing and your support is mind blowing. I love the three of you dearly.

It's the way that you blush when you're nervous
it's your ability to make me earn this.
I know that you're tired,
Just let me sing you to sleep.

EPOV

Bella's insulin pump started beeping, alerting that her sugar was dropping. I silenced the alarm and suspended her pump, stopping all delivery of insulin. I shook her gently to wake her up.

"Bella, baby, wake up. We need to check your sugar," I said as I sat her up.

"Ok," she grumbled.

I grabbed her glucometer from the nightstand and inserted the test strip. I pressed the lancet device against her finger and released the trigger button. I gently squeezed her finger, placing a drop on the test strip. Bella laid her head back and closed her eyes. She was paler than usual; she was shaking and clammy.

Ten seconds passed, and her machine beeped stating her sugar was 44. I opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out her glucose tablets. I opened the container and took out three grape flavored tabs.

"Baby, you're low. Open your mouth you need to eat these."

Bella slowly chewed each one and drank some water to help get them down. I rechecked her sugar fifteen minutes later to make sure it was heading upward. Her meter read 82. I restarted her insulin pump and lowered her back down to sleep.

I climbed in next to her, lying on my side watching her sleep. She looked so peaceful, but at the same time, she looked empty. What this disease has done to her body, her mind and her spirit was so wretched.

We were on our first official date when I found out about Bella being diabetic. We were at dinner, and she told me she had something important to tell me. She took out her glucometer and placed its case on the table. She said she would understand if I wanted to walk away after her admission. I became nervous and confused as to what she could tell me that would make me want to leave her.

"Edward, I am a diabetic. A very brittle diabetic," she whispered as she rubbed her hands together.

"Okay. But, why would that make we want to walk away from you, Bella?"

"I get sick. Alot. And my diabetes tends to scare people off."

"Why would anyone ever leave you because you're diabetic? That doesn't make sense."

"Give it time. You'll see. My ex-boyfriend left me while I was in a coma on Christmas Eve. He had dinner at my parents' house and asked them about my diabetes and how often I get sick. They told him that I get sick quite often and that it required attention. A lot of attention. He said he just couldn't handle me being sick. He tried to love me, but he couldn't accept all of me. I am not perfect. I never claimed to be. I am full of flaws. I never asked to be this way, but this is me. Take it or leave it. So I guess you could say I just want to know how this is going to go."

I grabbed her hands and held them tight. "I'm not scared of your condition. I know I just met you, but there is something about you that is drawing me in and I don't want to let go."

The next day I Googled diabetes. I read articles at the American Diabetes Association's website, and I went to the library downtown. I knew I needed to take the initiative and educate myself on Bella's condition. I needed to show her that I want to know all of her, including her diabetes. I needed to do this for me, I needed to do this for her, and I needed to do this for us.

I had only known her for a week, but I knew that I loved this woman. I needed to be around her all the time. Her energy, her aura, everything about her lured me in.

Renee POV

Flashback to Bella Age 15-Freshman Year of High School

"CHARLIE!" I yelled.

"She's done it again! Call 911!" I screamed as I stared at the empty insulin bottle and multiple syringes that laid on the nightstand.

Why, baby? Why?

Charlie called 911 and ran into Bella's room, slamming the door back hard enough to leave a hole in the wall. He climbed onto the bed and began giving her CPR. I ran downstairs and grabbed the emergency glucagon kit and Bella's glucometer. I checked her blood sugar, and it was 31. She was comatose. Charlie injected the shot of glucose into her hip. He felt for her pulse, but it was barely there.

"The ambulance is taking too long! Let's get her in the cruiser and get her to the damn emergency room! I will do anything to save my baby girl! I'm scared, Renee!" Charlie yelled as his hands shook.

Charlie carried Bella down the stairs while I grabbed clothes for Charlie and me.

While Charlie sped thru town, I called the station and let the dispatcher know that we were taking her to the hospital ourselves and they could cancel the ambulance.

"Charlie, what are we going to do? This is her fourth attempt. Damn it. What if she doesn't make it this time?" I sobbed.

"Renee, don't talk like that. She'll be fine. We have to stay calm!" Charlie yelled.

I was in the back seat holding Bella like she was my newborn child. I began singing Sunshine You Are My Sunshine, while stroking her hair.

"Come on, baby. Stay with me. We'll get through this," I cried.

Tears streamed down Charlie's face as his sirens blared. He ran every light in sight. Charlie had tried to instill faith in me but deep down, he thought this was the last time he would see his daughter.

"Hurry the hell up. She's turning blue and barely breathing. For the love of God, go faster damn it! I won't lose her!" I screamed.

Charlie pulled into the Emergency Room entrance and slammed the cruiser into park. He grabbed Bella out of the car and barged through the doors.

"Help me damn it. She's not breathing!" Charlie yelled at the top of his lungs.

A team of doctors and nurses met him in the entranceway and jerked her from his arms, laying her on a stretcher. They rushed her back thru a set of swinging doors. A nurse stopped Charlie and I and told us they would update us on Bella's condition shortly.

Please baby girl, don't leave me! Pull through. We need you.

I fell to my knees crying, my hands covering my face while I screamed. Charlie slowly picked me up and cradled me in his arms. We sat down in the waiting area and prayed harder than we ever had before.

An hour passed and a doctor emerged from the double doors. He took a deep breath and sat next to Charlie.

"Bella is in critical condition. It has been touch and go since she arrived," he said in a calm yet worried voice.

"There's something you aren't telling us!" Charlie screamed.

"You do know that this appears to be no accident. Bella took enough insulin that she should be beyond dead at this point. She's fighting for her life in there. Her heart has stopped several times."

"We know, but we don't understand why she keeps doing this. Please just tell me she's going to make it. She has to," I cried.

"Mr. and Mrs. Swan, we will do all we can. I must go back and check on her. You can come back as soon as we get her stabilized," the doctor said as he rested his hands on ours before walking away.

I haven't been as religious as I had hoped to be at my age. I was raised Catholic, and I even convinced Charlie to marry me in the Catholic Church- the same church that Bella would be baptized in. I silently began to pray, almost begging God to save my little girl. I need for her to understand how much she means to me. I said ten Hail Mary's and sat back on the chair, curling into a ball.

Hours passed before the doctor emerged once again from the swinging double doors. Charlie woke me and pulled me up to stand.

"Bella is in a coma. She is hooked up to several machines to help her breathe and monitor her heart. She is being moved to the PICU, and you should be able to see her shortly," the doctor said.

Bella was in a coma for five days. Those were the longest five days of my life.

BPOV

Five days later

I awoke and barely knew who I was. The room was empty and began to spin. I heard the familiar beep of the machines mixed with the sound of shuffling feet and phones ringing.

My eyes shifted and slowly scanned the room.

Hospital.

I tried to speak but I could barely talk. It hurt so badly.

Feeding tube.

I inhaled and felt cold air through my nasal passages.

Oxygen.

I could see out the window that it was dark. I wondered where my parents were. What happened? Did I fall? Just then a nurse entered the room and gasped.

"Well, hello there, Isabella. How are you feeling?" she asked as she checked my tubing.

I didn't even try to speak again. I didn't have the strength. I closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep.

My eyelids were so heavy I couldn't raise them, no matter how hard I tried. I heard voices around me, whispering. They sounded familiar, but I couldn't make out who they were.

I felt a warm hand run through my hair. Their touch so gentle and their scent so familiar. I breathed them in, wanting to be held. I was suddenly scared, but I did not know why.

IIIIIn my mind, I screamed for help. I begged for somebody to take me away. Something isn't right. My heartbeat quickened its pace as my eyes fluttered open.

"And now I believe Miss Swan is rejoining us. Isabella, can you hear me?" questioned an unrecognizable voice.

"Yes," I whispered.

The dark haired woman pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. She placed her clipboard on her lap and started to write.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"My name is Alexandra Davis. I am a social worker. I work with the hospital," she said as she flashed her badge.

Social worker? What happened? Where are my parents?

I began to get sleepy again, and my head began to roll.

"Isabella, I would like to ask you a few questions. Do you think you are up to it?"

"I can try," I said as I coughed.

Ouch

"Do you know what day it is, Isabella?"

"Please, it's just Bella."

I tried to think about the question. I don't know what day it is. I do know that my head is hurting so bad. Did I fall?

"Bella, are you okay? You look a bit distraught."

"I-I don't know what day it is. What is going on?"

"It's alright,Bella. Today is Sunday. Let's try another question. What is your mother's name?"

"Ummm…Renee."

"Good. And do you know where you are?"

"Forks Hospital."

"And do you know why you are here?"

"I had been sick. Bronchitis. I am assuming I ended up with a severe case of Pneumonia. I remember it hurt to breathe. I have asthma and diabetes so I get hospitalized a lot."

"There isn't another reason you may be in the hospital?" she acquiesced.

What is this lady's deal? I just told her what I remember. Why can't she just write that down on her clipboard and leave me alone?

I began to get fidgety and started playing with my IV. Alexandra locked eyes with mine and was watching my every move.

"Its okay, Bella. You can tell me anything. I am only here to help you."

Good lord, this lady doesn't give up. I became very nervous. What was she alluding to?

"All I remember is being sick. Why am I in here? Obviously I answered that question wrong," I said waving my fists in the air.

"How bout I tell you what information I have on you?"

It's about freaking time woman.

"Bella, you were diagnosed at the age of 13 with Juvenile Diabetes. Over the past two years, you have been hospitalized three times for attempted suicide. Is this accurate?"

My stomach began to tighten and my face became very hot. Shit. How does she know this? Yes I have done this but it's not like I enjoy talking about it, let alone someone laying out the truth. The truth hurts. My hands became sweaty and the tears were on their way. Oh no. I followed through. Again.

I knew exactly what was about to happen.

"Yes, that's accurate. And I know what you're going to do now."

"And what is that exactly, Bella?"

"Once the doctor's clear me, I will end up on the psychiatric unit - on suicide watch," I said angrily.

"Don't you think that is the best plan?"

"No. I don't," I said as I grabbed at my bed sheets.

"Bella, this is the fourth suicide attempt. Why is it that you what to die so bad?"

"You wouldn't understand!" I yelled.

"I can try."

"Do you have diabetes? Do you really know how it feels? Are you super emotional and depressed all the time?" I spat.

Alexandra didn't say anything. She just stared at me, my fists clenched and tears running down my face.

"My thoughts are consumed of escaping this world, of this disease. Only other diabetics may even start to understand what I go through. And if one more god damn person tells me that all I have to do is test my sugar, follow my diet, take my insulin and I can live a normal life, I will rip their head off!"

Just then my mother and father walked in, followed by a nurse.

"Everything okay in here?" my father asked.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Swan. My name is Alexandra Davis, and I am a social worker here at the hospital," she said as she shook my parent's hands.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Renee and this is my husband, Charlie."

"I was just speaking with Bella in regards to why she is here in the ICU."

"I see. Can we speak with you out in the hall for a minute?" Renee asked.

"Of course."

Alexandra and my parents walked out of my room and closed the door. Oh to be a fly on the wall for that conversation! I can't wait for them to come back in. Oh yay.

After about thirty minutes, my parents returned without Alexandra. I could tell my mother had been crying and knew this conversation wasn't going to be easy.

"Bella, have you been told how close you were this time?" my mother asked, her voice shaking.

"No," I mumbled.

"You almost didn't make it. The doctors were almost certain they lost you," my mom said as she grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight.

"Bells, what can we do to make this stop? What is it gonna take to make you want to live?" my father asked as he gripped the bed.

"I love you both. So very much. But if you ask me if I have the desire to continue on in this fucked up world, the answer is no."

"I don't get it, honey. What is so bad about your life?" my mother asked.

"If you take out my diabetes and depression then, no, my life isn't so bad. I can't really explain it. The thoughts in my mind say leave, but my heart says stay."

"The social worker says you need to be admitted to the psych ward as soon as possible. And, well Bells, your mother and I agree."

"No! Please, don't send me there," I begged.

"You need help, baby. We just want what's best for you and what will keep you here with us," my mother said.

"How long do I have to stay there?"

"Alexandra said at least two weeks to get your diabetes under control and your meds on track. It could take longer, but that is just what she estimates at a minimum." my father explained.

"When do I go?" I whispered.

"It probably won't be for a few days. The doctors here need to evaluate you and make sure you are in a stable and functional condition," my father said.

"I'll go, but I can tell you right now, it's not going to make a bit of difference," I said as I shook my head.

"Just try. Please. We are here with you. We will support you. We love you dearly, Bella," my mother said.

"This I know. You're always there. Constantly hovering andwaiting for me to mess it all up again."

"Bella! Stop it!" my father yelled.

"Just go. I am done talking about this. Just leave," I said firmly as I rolled over to my side, staring out the dark window.

"This is what's best…"

"How do you know that it's what's best? Have you ever been suicidal? Have you ever been locked in a mental ward?" I screamed as I sat up in the bed.

"Calm down, Bella. And the answer to your entire question is NO. But we are your parents and we are trying to do whatever it takes to keep you alive," my father explained.

"As you know, we spoke with Alexandra and planned out the next step. You are going to be transferred to the children's psychiatric unit where the doctors will regulate your medicines and you will participate in individual and group therapy. We really want you to be able to get to the underlying issue that is causing these feelings. Alexandra said you can expect to be there at minimum two weeks. After that time, we will reassess your needs. You know the drill, Bella. You have been through this before. Your father and I are willing to do whatever it takes to make you better. This is not punishment."

Obviously they are not getting the memo.

"I said that's fine. Look, I am really tired and this is a lot to take in. I would really just like to sleep now. OK?"

"Yes, that is fine dear. Get some rest, and we will be by in the morning to check in on you. I love you," my mother said as she kissed my forehead.

"Sleep tight, love bug. I love you," my father said as he squeezed my hand tight.

And with that they were gone. That night I cried myself to sleep, begging God to make me have the will and desire to live again.

I was transferred to the psychiatric ward three days later.

As soon as I walked onto the unit, I wanted out of there. I had been through this very same process multiple times.

Karen, a psychiatric nurse whom I had seen in the past, walked me to my room. It looked just like the room I had stayed in eight months ago. All that was in the room was a twin bed and a desk. The bathroom was very small. There was no mirror over the sink and no plastic bag in the trashcan.

"Bella, you know the procedure. No shoe laces, no belts, no draw string pants. And because you are on suicide watch, we have to take your insulin pump. I will lock it up in the office. You will need to change into these scrubs. Your parents dropped off a duffel bag of your belongings. They'll be searched and then brought to your room. Lunch will be brought up shortly. We'll make the announcement, and you can join us in the dining area. I'm sorry to see you back here, sweetheart. We'll get through this, don't worry," she said as she hugged me close.

"Thanks, Karen," I sighed.

The announcement for lunch came, and I headed for the dining area. I sat down at the corner table that was empty.

"Isabella Swan," called one of the aides.

"Right here."

"Come out in the hall, and we'll check your blood sugar."

The aide checked my sugar, and it said 189. That's not bad for me. Of course the aide had her own comments. The nurse came and gave me my shot in my arm. Some people hate shots. I actually liked them when other people did it. It burned a little, and it was almost like a mini-rush.

I went back to the corner table, and my lunch was there.

Oh yay. A diabetic tray.

I ate my lunch alone and in silence. I watched some of the other kids as they talked while they ate. I was not in the mood for interaction. You could tell who was on suicide watch and who wasn't by what they were wearing. If they had hospital scrubs on, they were on watch. If they were in street clothes, they had more freedom and were lucky.

After lunch we had group therapy where we all went to the indoor gym located upstairs. You could tell who had been there for a while cause they were in their own little cliques.

Everyone was walking laps. I took a deep breath and began to walk. Alone.

After a couple of laps, I could feel someone inching on me. I turned half-way and saw a pale girl in scrubs. Suicide watch, just like me.

"Hi. I'm Brie. You're Bella, right?" said a very tiny voice.

"Hey, yeah I'm Bella."

"How old are you? What ya in for?"

"I'm fifteen. I errr-I attempted suicide. Again."

Fuck. I hate admitting that.

"I'm fourteen. I am a habitual cutter, and this time I took it too far," she said as she held out her bandage-wrapped wrists and kept up with my pace.

I watched her face as she looked ashamed after the words left her mouth.

"I'm diabetic. This is the fourth time I have attempted suicide."

I watched Brie's face as she hung on to every word. It seemed as if my words comforted her-when it was me admitting my selfish act.

"I have been a cutter for the past year and a half. This was the first time I wanted it all to end and actually had the guts to go thru with it. Diabetic, huh? I know a little about it. One of my best friends has it. It sucks."

"Yeah, tell me about it. I hate it so much. I would give my soul to the devil himself for a lifetime of normalcy. No diabetes. No depression. No pain."

"Depression and pain, that I know all too well. People think cutting is a form of pain. It doesn't hurt. It actually feels like it stops the pain from the depression. I feel alive. The deeper the cut, the bigger the rush. Three nights ago, I just couldn't get enough of the rush and I couldn't stop the pain. My mom found me. I still haven't really talked to her about it. I am scared to talk to her about it, but oddly enough, I don't mind sharing it with you."

"I overdosed on insulin. Again. And every time I have failed at my attempt and I end up in the ICU and then in here. Obviously me coming here isn't working."

"You think you'll attempt again?"

"I have no doubt, unless of course you have the cure for this wretched disease."

"I wish I did. And I wish you had the fix-all for my urge to cut, to destroy the ones I love."

Brie and I shared more about ourselves as we walked. We talked about our families, school life, musical interests, favorite movies and hopes for our futures.

Over the next couple days, Brie and I became very close. As we got more comfortable with each other, we opened up more in group sessions. She may not know what I go thru with my diabetes and I may not know what she goes thru went she cuts, but we got each other on a level. Our level.

On the sixth day, my doctor and I agreed it was safe for me to come off of suicide watch. I was so fucking happy when I got to put my jeans and t-shirt on. I had to write out a contract, which I had done prior. It's really just a way to shut them all up. They don't get that these thoughts consume me.

Because I was finally released from suicide watch, I earned more privileges. My parents were now allowed to visit. My parents arrived after dinner when visitation started. We sat in the commons area and spoke of our week.

"We miss you, Bells. We want you home; We need you home," my father said.

"I am working on it, Dad. I'll be home soon," I partly lied. I would be home soon. How I get myself to get home is another story.

"The nurses said that your sugars are almost normal. That is good news. Have you gotten your insulin pump back yet?" my mother asked.

"They said I'll get it back in a couple days. I miss it. I miss my independence."

We talked for an hour and then visiting time was over. I kissed my parents goodbye and met Brie in the break room.

"How was visitation with your parents?" Brie asked.

"It was okay, same routine. I just want out of here. I want to get back to my life."

"I know exactly what you mean. But, I will miss you."

"I will miss you, too. Do you think you'll cut when you get out?" I asked.

"Do you think you'll overdose on insulin when you get out?"

"Yes, but I don't think it will be anytime soon. The immediate urge is gone, but I still hate me. I hate my diabetes. The only cure is to end it all."

"Don't talk like that, Bella. You'll make it. It's not going to be easy, but you will see. Life can be grand. I may not always believe that either, but I have hope. And yes, I do think I will cut. I just hope that it won't get as bad as it got."

We hugged briefly and made our way to our rooms for the night.

EPOV

Present Day

"Come on, Gavin. It's time to bring mama her breakfast! And we're gonna take her to the park later. Aren't you excited little man?"

"Yes, papa. Can mama go on the swings with me?" he asked.

"If she has enough energy, then it's a possibility. We have to make sure mama eats all her breakfast, okay?"

"Okay. Did you give her a banana? She loves them just like me."

"Yes I did. And I made her peanut butter toast, too. And I put an extra piece on there for you since you like to steal hers," I laughed.

We walked into the master bedroom just as Bella was waking up.

"Good morning, sunshine!" I said as I kissed her on her forehead.

"Mama! Mama! We're going to the park and gonna swing! Eat. Eat. Eat," Gavin pleaded.

"Calm down, sweet boy. Let me take my meds and eat. Then you can help Mama get ready and we'll go," Bella said as she sat up.

Gavin crawled up in the bed with Bella and helped her eat while I opened the blinds to let the sunlight in. As I turned around I saw the light creep over Bella's face. She had the face of an angel. My angel.

Bella finished eating and plugged her blood sugar and carbohydrate intake into her insulin pump. I helped her out of the bed and into the bathroom.

"I can do it, Edward."

"Are you sure you don't need my help?"

"Yes. Please, I feel stronger, and I just want to do it myself."

Bella closed the bathroom door while Gavin and I waited impatiently on the bed.

Fifteen minutes later, Bella made her exit.

"Okay boys. Who's ready to go to the park?"

"Me!" Gavin screamed.

We went outside and made our way to the car when Bella stopped quickly.

"You okay, sweetie?"

"Yeah. I was thinking maybe we could walk to the park. It's beautiful outside."

"Do you have enough energy?"

"Yes. And if I get too tired, you can come back and get the car. Please, Edward," Bella begged.

"Okay. Walking it is then. Gavin, you wanna ride on Papa's shoulders?"

"YESSS!" Gavin yelled.

We spent most of the afternoon by the pond at the park. Bella used all the energy she had to swing with Gavin. It was amazing to watch them. That little boy does so much for Bella and I, without even knowing it. I am so proud to call him my son.

I laid out a blanket by the playground. Bella and I lay down while Gavin played with some of the neighborhood boys.

"Thank You," whispered Bella.

"For what, baby?"

"This. Us. Gavin. Everything," she said as her eyes began to fill with tears.

"Baby, we are the lucky We should be saying 'thank you' to you ."

"I had a voicemail today from a Victoria Childers. Did you call her?"

"Yes. She's a therapist who was recommended by a friend of my fathers. I think she might be of great help, love."

"Why?"

"Because you're not sleeping, and when you do the nightmares are horrific. I think it would do some good to talk about it. A release, to someone outside of family and friends that knows nothing about your past or your present. You choose what to talk about. You control the speed."

"Talking scares me, Edward. It brings up things I may not want to face."

"Baby steps. What is our motto, love?"

"One breath. One second. One heartbeat at a time."

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