A/N: Hello, doves. Let's get on with it. See how Bella's coming along.

Comas weren't like what Edward had ever seen-and acted-on screen. People didn't wake up in control of all their faculties, ready to get out of bed. Awareness came gradually, and even if a patient became fully aware, it didn't mean they would ever regain all their functionality.

"The term is minimally conscious state," the doctor explained to Edward when he was allowed to see Bella. "She's awake, but not like you or I are. Be patient. Keep talking with her. She's still trying to find her way back."

"She's opened her eyes once already," Charlie said after the doctor had gone. "Not for long." He swallowed hard. "And it wasn't pretty."

"Better than not knowing if she'll wake up at all, right?" Edward said. He heard the desperation in his voice. Despite the fact the doctors had warned over and over that any number of things could still be wrong, he wanted to have hope.

Charlie didn't look at him. He held his daughter's hand, stroking his thumb over her knuckles. "It's better," he said finally, but it sounded like he wasn't sure.

An hour or so later, Edward understood his reluctance. For days, the idea he couldn't see her pretty brown eyes drove him to the edge of madness. He'd have thought he'd give anything to see them again.

Edward was alone when he finally did get to see them. Charlie had been coaxed away by a friend, convinced he had to eat sometime. Edward had been carefully stroking his fingers through Bella's hair, leaning over her, telling her about what was going on at work when he saw movement behind her eyelids.

"Bella?" he asked, clasping her hand. "Can you hear me? Open your eyes, baby, please."

Her lashes fluttered. She opened her eyes.

Edward's heart broke. It wasn't his Bella-not quite. Her gaze was unfocused. She didn't react at all to him saying her name. Her eyes didn't move when he kissed her forehead. They remained cloudy and vacant.

Worst of all was the tiny whimper he heard. He didn't know how to read that sound. Was she in pain? Afraid? Confused? The doctor had warned she might be any or all of those things. The idea he couldn't help her killed him. She made the noise again-a small, pitiful sound-and then closed her eyes. She was asleep before the nurse Edward had summoned could get there.

"Believe it or not, reaction is a good sign," the nurse assured him. "Even if she was in pain, that she was reacting to it is a good thing." She offered him a small smile. "Healing isn't often easy, Mr. Cullen."

As she slept, he drafted a statement for Benjamin. It took him several tries to find the right words. He was angry at his fans. Yes, Alice had acted alone, and she was the one who would have to answer for her crimes. But they were all responsible. Each and every one of them helped create the atmosphere that had allowed ideas that led to Alice's actions.

People talked as though they knew celebrities personally. They acted as though they were owed a piece of their lives. It was why Edward couldn't so much as walk down the street without having his picture taken-because his fans felt entitled to consume even that much of his life. They felt entitled to their opinion on his personal life-what parts he took, who he hung out with, how much he partied, whom he dated. He'd seen toxicity aimed at people he cared about-friends, family, and lovers-in the name of his supposed happiness. As though any of those strangers understood what made him happy.

He wanted to shake all of them. Right. They only wanted him to be happy. That was what the commenters always said. It was what Alice said too, what she'd screamed at him as he'd watched Bella's blood pool around her head. She'd done it because she knew what was best for him and only wanted him to be happy.

Edward sighed, looking around. Their hearts were most often in the right place. Many of his fans, likewise expressing that they wanted him to be happy, had sent flowers and other gifts to Bella. The room was overflowing.

It was what it was. He was a fantasy to them-good or bad. He was an idea, not a person. That wasn't going to change.

He wrote a short statement.

As many of you know by now, a person I care about very deeply was harmed, with the intent to kill, in my name. I vehemently condemn the actions taken against both Isabella Swan and Gianna Gale. They are two of the kindest people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. I am devastated at the idea anyone could think this was something I wanted.

I would like to take this time to make it clear I do not condone any actions made on my behalf. I would not wish an ill word on any person, let alone such sickening, heinous acts that were committed by Alice Brandon against these women. I believe that all people are worthy of dignity and respect, and no one deserves even a word of cruelty aimed at them. It is my hope that any of my fans would feel the same.

However, it continues to be my experience that there is much more love than hate in the world. Thank you for your support, your heartfelt actions and thoughts. Your voices, too, have been heard, and are a light in a dark and trying time.

I ask that you respect the privacy of Miss Swan and her loved ones at this time. Your continued positive thoughts and well-wishes are greatly appreciated.

"Some of the language-" Benjamin began, but Edward cut him off.

"Run it. Unadulterated."

His fans wanted a personal piece of him; there it was.

~0~

Agonizingly slowly, Bella worked her way back to full consciousness. The first thirty-six hours, she opened her eyes for minutes at a time. Toward the end, she started to flex her fingers. Edward had never felt so elated by a feeble touch.

The next day, when Edward went directly to the hospital after work. Bella was awake. Not only awake, but her eyes tracked him as he came in the room. He stopped short. "Bella?"

Her eyes were intense-tired but intense-on his.

"She's squeezing the hell out of my hands," Charlie said.

Edward lurched, unsteady on his feet, to the seat by her side. She rolled her head-a slight movement-to look at him. Her features were slack, but her eyes were alive. Not vibrant, but there. When he took her hand, she squeezed it almost instantly-again, a small movement, but perceptible.

Tears sprung to his eyes, and he sucked in a sharp breath. "Hey, you," he said, his voice shaky with emotion. "There you are."

She squeezed his hand again, a small pressure.

Across from him, Charlie chuffed. "Guess you weren't wrong about her wanting you to be here."

Bella rolled her head again to look at her dad. He laughed. "Don't worry. I've been playing nice."

She looked back to Edward, and he laughed too. Hell, he giggled. He was so happy. He raised her hand to his lips. "Don't boss your dad around, Bella."

At some point during their visit, Edward fell asleep. He woke with a sigh. Something was running fingers through his hair, and it felt good.

Consciousness caught up with him, and he raised his head. He blinked.

The room was dark-as dark as a hospital room could possibly get. He'd fallen asleep with his head cradled in his arms on the rail of Bella's bed. Her father wasn't there. They were alone in the room, and Bella was awake and alert. She'd been caressing his hair. He blinked again. She smiled.

Holy hell, she smiled. A small, tired smile, but a smile. She licked her lips. "Hey, stud," she said, her voice a scratchy, barely-there whisper.

They were, without a doubt, the most beautiful two words he'd ever heard.

Edward pressed a soft kiss to her lips, brushing with the gentlest pressure. "Hello, beautiful."

~0~

"You'll ask her, right? If it's okay to visit?"

Edward sighed, looking over at his brother-in-law. "You don't need permission, Em. Come see her. All of her friends have already been by. I'm sure she'd love to see you."

Emmett grunted. "Doubtful."

"She doesn't blame you." Edward rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't blame you."

There was a time, right after it happened, that Edward did blame Emmett. Terrified, angry, and lacking anyone else to yell at, Edward had said some not-so-nice things to his friend.

"You should blame me," Emmett said gruffly. "It was my fault. She was right under my nose. Literally right under it."

"She was under all our noses." Edward shuddered. He'd seen pictures of the shrine she had in a small closet of her house. The same house Edward had been in. If he'd gone snooping, if any of them had snooped, he'd have found it. "Speaking of which, how's Jasper doing?"

Again, Emmett grunted, and Edward saw his fists flex around the steering wheel. "He's pretty fucked up about it. The police still haven't given up on the theory he's an accomplice. And to make matters worse, he was falling for her. Hard. I don't think he's going to be able to work in security again." He grimaced. "I don't think I will either, but for reasons of incompetence."

"Emmett-"

"She almost killed Bella, Edward. Getting someone killed is pretty much the polar opposite of my job description."

"Your job was to protect me, technically. And Jasper protected Gianna, which was his job description." Edward waved a hand to stop him from speaking. "Look, we all had our part, okay? Jasper met this chick at the damn gym. She wasn't involved with movies, didn't mention me to him. How the hell were you supposed to know it was you she stalked for a while? She knew you were my bodyguard. It was your people she stalked until she found an in. And then it was me who didn't take it seriously, who thought it was all a game, who didn't think twice about dragging Gianna and Bella into it. It was Bella who agreed to all your plans and who refused the protection you offered her."

Emmett pulled into the hospital parking lot. "She wants to see him," he mumbled.

"What?"

"Alice." Emmett said the name as though there was something foul in his mouth. "She wants to see Jasper. She wants to see you too, but that's a given."

"What does she want with Jasper?"

Emmett shook his head. "She's in love with him. Or so she says. Obsessed with you-your future, whatever-but in love with him. How's that for a Hollywood twist?"

"That's fucked up."

"Yeah, well. She can fuck off and die for all any of us care." Emmett looked at Edward. "Call me when you're ready for a pick up, huh."

"Right." Edward put his sunglasses on and pulled a beanie down as he made the short dart into the hospital. He came and went through a back entrance in a parking garage, and despite the fact he rarely saw anyone else around, the paps had gotten several shots of him over the last week.

As he made the now-familiar trek through the hospital to Bella's room, he considered what Emmett had told him about Alice. He wondered if there was any comfort in the idea she truly loved Jasper. She'd used him without a doubt, but their relationship, however falsely it had started, was true. He snorted to himself. It was a Hollywood trope if ever he'd heard one. The kind where the misguided bad boy-bad girl in this case-learned the error of their ways after finding true love.

He remembered how he'd harbored suspicions Bella was the one after Gianna. Would he have been able to forgive her if she had been? If their relationship was built on true feelings but false circumstances?

Well, he supposed it didn't matter. Bella was an innocent, and Alice hadn't learned the error of her ways. Emmett was right. She could rot in jail for all Edward cared. He didn't want to think about the creepster anymore. Not right now. He was eager to get to Bella after a long day away.

As he reached Bella's unit, a nurse he recognized saw him and gave him a strange smile. "There you are. You're late."

"Late?" He furrowed his eyebrows. He hadn't been aware there was a schedule. "Is everything okay? Was Bella asking for me?"

Her smile gentled. "She's doing well. Now go on. Don't keep her waiting."

Edward thought the woman was acting a touch strange. Given all that had happened, he started to worry about it. He wondered if he could ask Emmett to look around the hospital, check out the nursing staff to the best of his ability.

All Edward's worries faded as he stepped in Bella's room.

She was sitting up in bed, smiling at him with mischief in her eyes. She looked pretty. Not that she wasn't always beautiful, but a hospital stay was never the best look on anyone. Today, though, her hair had been brushed. It hung shiny and lovely to her shoulders. The rolling table that usually held her water and whatever bland, crappy meal they were trying to feed her had been moved so it stretched over her bed. A vase held a simple carnation. There was a plate on it too-holding a pastrami sandwich, potato salad, and a mess of pickles. He recognized by the sight of them exactly where they were from.

"These are from Canter's," he said, sitting in his customary seat.

"You're very observant, Cullen."

He reached for her hand. "What's going on here?"

"What do you think's going on here?" She flashed a grin at him and held out a bouquet with her free hand. "I know I'm a bit late, but I believe we had a date."

He laughed, smiling as he took the offered bouquet. "And me without my good dress pants."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Ah, I wouldn't worry. The venue is casual." She leaned in closer to whisper the next words conspiratorially. "You know, my ass hangs out of the back of the dress I'm wearing?" She plucked at her hospital gown.

He let his grin turn lascivious. "Lucky dress."

"Don't be too jealous. If everything goes to plan, after dinner, we'll be taking a romantic, halogen-lit stroll down the hospital corridor. You might catch a glimpse while you help me into my wheelchair." She suppressed a grimace, glaring at the thick cast about her leg.

"That does sound romantic." He peered around the room. "Where's your dad?"

She feigned horror. "I'm way too old to bring my dad on a date, ya old prude." She shrugged. "He took the night off at my vehement insistence."

"Oh, good. Then I don't have to worry about him walking in while I do this." He pushed forward, kissing her with quite a bit more force than he'd dared before. She made a surprised sound that turned into a quiet moan as she kissed him back. She raised her hand-the one not covered in needles and wires-to cup his cheek as she deepened their kiss.

When he had to breathe, Edward broke the kiss. He leaned his forehead against hers, panting, unwilling yet to let her go. He cupped his hand behind her neck, under her hair, rubbing his thumb in slow circles.

After a few moments of this, Bella pressed a hand to his chest and pushed him back gently. She clucked her tongue. "I don't know how long it's been since you've been on a first date, stud, but you're not supposed to kiss first."

He had to press his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop the goofy smile that threatened. Only when he was sure he wasn't going to moon after her did he allow himself to reply. "You know how we actors are. We're used to getting what we want."

She nodded, her expression solemn. "Well, not with me. You're going to have to earn your first kiss."

"How does that work, hmm? As the planner of the date, aren't you the one who has to earn the first kiss?" Edward sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Let's see. You greet me with flowers you picked from your, er, garden." He gestured around them. You've taken me to a restaurant that allows their patrons to have their ass hanging out the backs of their dresses. And…" He prodded the pastrami sandwich. "Yep. It's cold."

"Well, someone didn't move his ass getting here from the set. That's hardly my fault."

"Such excuses."

"You kissed me ten seconds ago, Cullen. Call me crazy, but I'll bet I can convince you to kiss me again." She batted her eyelashes and tilted her head.

Her lips were way too inviting for Edward to resist. He dipped his head and kissed her tenderly. "Damn," he said, breaking the kiss with a sigh. "I never did learn how to play it cool."

Bella produced a wine flute and a small bottle of Pepsi from behind one of her flowers. She waggled her eyebrows at him as she served. "Fancy, right?"

"Ah, yes." He swirled his Pepsi in his glass as though it were wine, sniffed it delicately, and then sipped. "I like this vintage. Excellent year."

She laughed, and he loved the way her eyes danced. "Dig in."

"What about you?" he asked, taking a bite of a kosher dill.

"Ah. I'm covered," she said ruefully. She pulled a plain applesauce cup from the same stand she'd pulled his Pepsi from.

"Gourmet," he said, reaching out to touch her hand. He took a bite of his sandwich and moaned. "God, it's been too long since I've had Canter's. How did you know I like it? Oh, wait. I forgot. Was this in one of the interviews of me you watched?"

She seemed bemused by his question. "I texted your sister. In fact, she's the one who brought it to me."

Edward was quiet at that.

"What?" Bella asked, when he'd been quiet a beat or two too long.

He shook his head and reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear, studying her face. "Sometimes I'm so scared people I care about won't remember I'm real that I forget I'm real."

Rather than tease him as he might have expected with a line like that, she reached out to trace the line of his jaw. "I know you're real, Edward." Her eyes followed the path of her fingertips. "The fantasy you? The makeup and the cameras and the stories your fans will tell themselves about your life? That was all the stuff I didn't want. The real you?" She looked him in the eyes, her smile tender. "You're worth dealing with everything else."

Edward put down his sandwich. The knot in his throat made it took difficult to swallow. He pressed his thumb to her lips and took a shaky breath when she kissed him there. "How can you say that now? How can you say that from where you're sitting?"

"I fell and hit my head, ace. It happens in my line of work." She smiled and took his hand, pressing it against her cheek. "Don't worry. I'm going to be one of those comeback stories. They can't keep me down for long."

Edward closed his eyes briefly, releasing his breath and with it, the worry all of this would only reaffirm her original opinion-dating actors was just asking for trouble. He took her hand and pressed her palm to his lips, opening his eyes to grin at her. "Bella, I think you can do anything."

"Except fly, apparently."

He sat back, embracing the lightness of the atmosphere. "So what do you have planned for the entertainment portion of our date, hmm?"

"What, my company and conversation isn't good enough for you?"

Edward made a lackluster face and waggled his hand in an, "eh" motion.

Bella's smile turned wicked. "Oh, good. I did have something in mind that I think you'll enjoy…"

She turned on the room's TV set and flipped to the channel she wanted. To Edward's horror, one of his earlier movies was playing. A bad one. In which he had a horrible haircut and a penchant for overacting.

"Give me that," he said, reaching for the control.

"Not a chance," she said, holding it out of his grasp.

They "wrestled" though, of course, Edward didn't put any kind of strength behind it. Still, they ended up tangled and breathless. Bella winced, but she caught Edward before he could pull back. "I'm fine," she said.

He grunted, feeling guilty about roughhousing with her. She played a good game, but she was injured. "Your ribs are broken."

"Yeah." She took an uneasy breath. "But I don't care."

Then, she kissed him. She kissed him, and she didn't let him go.

A/N: How are we doing out there, kids?