24. An Impasse

My eyes opened to a bright, white light. I was in an unfamiliar room, a white room. The wall beside me was covered in long vertical blinds; over my head, the glaring lights blinded me. I was propped up on a hard, uneven bed — a bed with rails. The pillows were flat and lumpy. There was an annoying beeping sound somewhere close by. I hoped that meant I was still alive. Death shouldn't be this uncomfortable.

My hands were all twisted up with clear tubes, and something was taped across my face, under my nose. I lifted my hand to rip it off.

"No, you don't." And cool fingers caught my hand.

"Marceline?" I turned my head slightly, and her exquisite face was just inches from mine, her chin resting on the edge of my pillow. I realized again that I was alive, this time with gratitude and elation. "Oh, Marceline, I'm so sorry!"

"Shhhh," she shushed me. "Everything's all right now."

"What happened?" I couldn't remember clearly, and my mind re-boned against me as I tried to recall.

"I was almost too late. I could have been too late," she whispered, her voice tormented.

"I was so stupid, Marceline. I thought he had my mom."

"She tricked us all."

"I need to call Gummy and my mom," I realized through the haze.

"Flame called them. Bubble is here — well, here in the hospital. She's getting something to eat right now."

"She's here?" I tried to sit up, but the spinning in my head accelerated, and her hand pushed me gently down onto the pillows.

"She'll be back soon," she promised. "And you need to stay still."

"But what did you tell her?" I panicked. I had no interest in being soothed. My mom was here and I was recovering from a vampire attack. "Why did you tell her I'm here?"

"You fell down two flights of stairs and through a window." She paused. "You have to admit, it could happen."

I sighed, and it hurt. I stared down at my body under the sheet, the huge lump that was my leg.

"How bad am I?" I asked.

"You have a broken leg, four broken ribs, some cracks in your skull, bruises covering every inch of your skin, and you've lost a lot of blood. They gave you a few transfusions. I didn't like it — it made you smell all wrong for a while."

"That must have been a nice change for you."

"No, I like how you smell."

"How did you do it?" I asked quietly. She knew what I meant at once.

"I'm not sure." She looked away from my wondering eyes, lifting my gauze-wrapped hand from the bed and holding it gently in her, careful not to disrupt the wire connecting me to one of the monitors.

I waited patiently for the rest.

She sighed without returning my gaze. "It was impossible… to stop," she whispered. "Impossible. But I did." She looked up finally, with half a smile. "I must love you."

"Don't I taste as good as I smell?" I smiled in response. That hurt my face.

"Even better — better than I'd imagined."

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

She raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Of all the things to apologize for."

"What should I apologize for?"

"For very nearly taking yourself away from me forever."

"I'm sorry," I apologized again.

"I know why you did it." Her voice was comforting. "It was still irrational, of course. You should have waited for me, you should have told me."

"You wouldn't have let me go."

"No," she agreed in a grim tone "I wouldn't."

Some very unpleasant memories were beginning to come back to me. I shuddered, and then winced. She was instantly anxious. "Bonnie, what's wrong?"

"What happened to Simon?"

"After I pulled him off you, Jake and Finn took care of him." There was a fierce note of regret in her voice.

This confused me. "I didn't see Jake and Finn there."

"They had to leave the room… there was a lot of blood."

"But you stayed."

"Yes, I stayed."

"And Flame, and Hudson …" I said in wonder. "They love you, too, you know."

A flash of painful images from the last time I'd seen Flame reminded me of something. "Did Flame see the tape?" I asked anxiously.

"Yes." A new sound darkened her voice, a tone of sheer hatred. "She was always in the dark, that's why she didn't remember."

"I know. She understands now." Her voice was even, but her face was black with fury.

I tried to reach her face with my free hand, but something stopped me. I glanced down to see the IV pulling at my hand.

"Ugh." I winced.

"What is it?" she asked anxiously — distracted, but not enough. The bleakness did not entirely leave her eyes.

"Needles," I explained, looking away from the one in my hand. I concentrated on a warped ceiling tile and tried to breathe deeply despite the ache in my ribs.

"Afraid of a needle," she muttered to herself under her breath, shaking her head. "Oh, a sadistic vampire, intent on torturing her to death, sure, no problem, she runs off to meet him. An IV, on the other hand…"

I rolled my eyes. I was pleased to discover that this reaction, at least, was pain-free. I decided to change the subject.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

She stared at me, first confusion and then hurt touching her eyes. Her brows pulled together as she frowned. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" I protested, horrified by the thought. "No, I meant, why does my mother think you're here? I need to have my story straight before she gets back."

"Oh," she said, and her forehead smoothed back into marble. "I came to Phoenix to talk some sense into you, to convince you to come back to Forks." Her wide eyes were so earnest and sincere, I almost believed her myself. "You agreed to see me, and you drove out to the hotel where I was staying with Hudson and Flame — of course I was here with parental supervision," she inserted virtuously, "but you tripped on the stairs on the way to my room and… well, you know the rest. You don't need to remember any details, though; you have a good excuse to be a little muddled about the finer points."

I thought about it for a moment. "There are a few flaws with that story. Like no broken windows."

"Not really," she said. "Flame had a little bit too much fun fabricating evidence. It's all been taken care of very convincingly — you could probably sue the hotel if you wanted to. You have nothing to worry about," she promised, stroking my cheek with the lightest of touches. "Your only job now is to heal."

I wasn't so lost to the soreness or the fog of medication that I didn't respond to her touch. The beeping of the monitor jumped around erratically — now she wasn't the only one who could hear my heart misbehave.

"That's going to be embarrassing," I muttered to myself.

She chuckled, and a speculative look came into her eye. "Hmm, I wonder…"

She leaned in slowly; the beeping noise accelerated wildly before her lips even touched me. But when they did, though with the most gentle of pressure, the beeping stopped altogether.

She pulled back abruptly, her anxious expression turning to relief as the monitor reported the restarting of my heart.

"It seems that I'm going to have to be even more careful with you than usual." She frowned.

"I was not finished kissing you," I complained. "Don't make me come over there."

She grinned, and bent to press her lips lightly to mine. The monitor went wild.

But then her lips were taut. She pulled away.

"I think I hear your mother," she said, grinning again.

"Don't leave me," I cried, an irrational surge of panic flooding through me. I couldn't let her go — she might disappear from me again.

She read the terror in my eyes for a short second. "I won't," she promised solemnly, and then she smiled. "I'll take a nap."

She moved from the hard plastic chair by my side to the turquoise faux-leather recliner at the foot of my bed, leaning it all the way back, and closing her eyes. She was perfectly still.

"Don't forget to breathe," I whispered sarcastically. She took a deep breath, her eyes still closed.

I could hear my mother now. She was talking to someone, maybe a nurse, and she sounded tired and upset. I wanted to jump out of the bed and run to her, to calm her, promise that everything was fine. But I wasn't in any sort of shape for jumping, so I waited impatiently.

The door opened a crack, and she peeked through.

"Mom!" I whispered, my voice full of love and relief.

She took in Marceline's still form on the recliner, and tiptoed to my bedside.

"She never leaves, does she?" she mumbled to herself.

"Mom, I'm so glad to see you!"

She bent down to hug me gently, and I felt warm tears falling on my cheeks.

"Bonnie, I was so upset!"

"I'm sorry, Mom. But everything's fine now, it's okay," I comforted her.

"I'm just glad to finally see your eyes open." She sat on the edge of my bed.

I suddenly realized I didn't have any idea when it was. "How long have they been closed?"

"It's Friday, hon, you've been out for a while."

"Friday?" I was shocked. I tried to remember what day it had been when… but I didn't want to think about that.

"They had to keep you sedated for a while, honey — you've got a lot of injuries."

"I know." I could feel them.

"You're lucky Dr. Abadeer was there. He's such a nice man… very young, though. And he looks more like a model than a doctor…"

"You met Hudson?"

"And Marceline's sister Flame. She's a lovely girl."

"She is," I agreed wholeheartedly.

She glanced over her shoulder at Marceline, lying with her eyes closed in the chair. "You didn't tell me you had such good friends in Forks." I cringed, and then moaned.

"What hurts?" she demanded anxiously, turning back to me. Marceline's eyes flashed to my face.

"It's fine," I assured them. "I just have to remember not to move." She lapsed back into her phony slumber.

I took advantage of my mother's momentary distraction to keep the subject from returning to my less-than-candid behavior. "Where's Gunter?" I asked quickly.

"Florida— oh, Bonnie! You'll never guess! Just when we were about to leave, the best news!"

"Gunter got signed?" I guessed.

"Yes! How did you guess! The Suns, can you believe it?"

"That's great, Mom," I said as enthusiastically as I could manage, though I had little idea what that meant.

"And you'll like Jacksonville so much," she gushed while I stared at her vacantly. "I was a little bit worried when Gunter started talking about Akron, what with the snow and everything, because you know how I hate the cold, but now Jacksonville! It's always sunny, and the humidity really isn't that bad. We found the cutest house, yellow, with white trim, and a porch just like in an old movie, and this huge oak tree, and it's just a few minutes from the ocean, and you'll have your own bathroom —"

"Wait, Mom!" I interrupted. Marceline still had her eyes closed, but she looked too tense to pass as asleep. "What are you talking about? I'm not going to Florida. I live in Forks."

"But you don't have to anymore, silly," she laughed. "Gunter will be able to be around so much more now… we've talked about it a lot, and what I'm going to do is trade off on the away games, half the time with you, half the time with him."

"Mom." I hesitated, wondering how best to be diplomatic about this. "I want to live in Forks. I'm already settled in at school, and I have a couple of girl friends" — she glanced toward Marceline again when I reminded her of friends, so I tried another direction — "and Gummy needs me. He's just all alone up there, and he can't cook at all."

"You want to stay in Forks?" she asked, bewildered. The idea was inconceivable to her. And then her eyes flickered back toward Marceline. "Why?"

"I told you — school, Gummy — ouch!" I'd shrugged. Not a good idea.

Her hands fluttered helplessly over me, trying to find a safe place to pat. She made do with my forehead; it was unbandaged.

"Bonnie, honey, you hate Forks," she reminded me.

"It's not so bad."

She frowned and looked back and forth between Marceline and me, this time very deliberately.

"Is it this girl?" she whispered interested.

I opened my mouth to lie, but her eyes were scrutinizing my face, and I knew she would see through that.

"She's part of it," I admitted. No need to confess how big a part. "So, have you had a chance to talk with Marceline?" I asked.

"Yes." She hesitated, looking at her perfectly still form. "And I want to talk to you about that."

Uh-oh. "What about?" I asked.

"I think that girl is in love with you," she accused, keeping her voice low.

"I think so, too," I confided.

"And how do you feel about her?" She only poorly concealed the raging curiosity in her voice.

I sighed, looking away. As much as I loved my mom, this was not a conversation I wanted to have with her. "I'm pretty crazy about her." There — that sounded like something a teenager with her first relationship might say.

"Well, she seems very nice, and, my goodness, she's incredibly good-looking, but you're so young, Bonnie…" Her voice was unsure; as far as I could remember, this was the first time since I was eight that she'd come close to trying to sound like a parental authority. I recognized the reasonable-but-firm tone of voice from talks I'd had with her about relationships.

"I know that, Mom. Don't worry about it. It's just a crush," I soothed her.

"That's right," she agreed, easily pleased.

Then she sighed and glanced guiltily over her shoulder at the big, round clock on the wall.

"Do you need to go?"

She bit her lip. "Gunter's supposed to call in a little while… I didn't know you were going to wake up…"

"No problem, Mom." I tried to tone down the relief so she wouldn't get her feelings hurt. "I won't be alone."

"I'll be back soon. I've been sleeping here, you know," she announced, proud of herself.

"Oh, Mom, you don't have to do that! You can sleep at home — I'll never notice." The swirl of painkillers in my brain was making it hard to concentrate even now, though, apparently, I'd been sleeping for days.

"I was too nervous," she admitted sheepishly. "There's been some crime in the neighborhood, and I don't like being there alone."

"Crime?" I asked in alarm.

"Someone broke into that dance studio around the corner from the house and burned it to the ground — there's nothing left at all! And they left a stolen car right out front. Do you remember when you used to dance there, honey?"

"I remember." I shivered, and winced.

"I can stay, baby, if you need me."

"No, Mom, I'll be fine. Marceline will be with me."

She looked like that might be why she wanted to stay. "I'll be back tonight." It sounded as much like a warning as it sounded like a promise, and she glanced at Marceline again as she said it.

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Bonnie. Try to be more careful when you walk, honey, I don't want to lose you."

Marceline's eyes stayed closed, but a wide grin flashed across her face.

A nurse came bustling in then to check all my tubes and wires. My mother kissed my forehead, patted my gauze-wrapped hand, and left.

The nurse was checking the paper readout on my heart monitor.

"Are you feeling anxious, honey? Your heart rate got a little high there."

"I'm fine," I assured her.

"I'll tell your RN that you're awake. She'll be in to see you in a minute."

As soon as she closed the door, Marceline was at my side.

"You stole a car?" I raised my eyebrows.

She smiled, unrepentant. "It was a good car, very fast."

"How was your nap?" I asked.

"Interesting." Her eyes narrowed.

"What?"

She looked down while she answered. "I'm surprised. I thought Florida … and your mother…well, I thought that's what you would want."

I stared at her uncomprehendingly. "But you'd be stuck inside all day in Florida. You'd only be able to come out at night, just like a real vampire."

She almost smiled, but not quite. And then her face was grave. "I would stay in Forks, Bonnie. Or somewhere like it," she explained. "Someplace where I couldn't hurt you anymore."

It didn't sink in at first. I continued to stare at her blankly as the words one by one clicked into place in my head like a ghastly puzzle. I was barely conscious of the sound of my heart accelerating, though, as my breathing became hyperventilation, I was aware of the sharp aching in my protesting ribs.

She didn't say anything; she watched my face warily as the pain that had nothing to do with broken bones, pain that was infinitely worse, threatened to crush me.

And then another nurse walked purposefully into the room. Marceline sat still as stone as she took in my expression with a practiced eye before turning to the monitors.

"Time for more pain meds, sweetheart?" she asked kindly, tapping the IV feed.

"No, no," I mumbled, trying to keep the agony out of my voice. "I don't need anything." I couldn't afford to close my eyes now.

"No need to be brave, honey. It's better if you don't get too stressed out; you need to rest." She waited, but I just shook my head.

"Okay," she sighed. "Hit the call button when you're ready."

She gave Marceline a stern look, and threw one more anxious glance at the machinery, before leaving.

Her cool hands were on my face; I stared at her with wild eyes.

"Shhh, Bonnie, calm down."

"Don't leave me," I begged in a broken voice.

"I won't," she promised. "Now relax before I call the nurse back to sedate you."

But my heart couldn't slow.

"Bonnie." She stroked my face anxiously. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here as long as you need me."

"Do you swear you won't leave me?" I whispered. I tried to control the gasping, at least. My ribs were throbbing.

She put her hands on either side of my face and brought her face close to mine. Her eyes were wide and serious. "I swear."

The smell of her breath was soothing. It seemed to ease the ache of my breathing. She continued to hold my gaze while my body slowly relaxed and the beeping returned to a normal pace. Her eyes were dark, closer to black than gold today.

"Better?" she asked.

"Yes," I said cautiously.

She shook her head and muttered something unintelligible. I thought I picked out the word "overreaction."

"Why did you say that?" I whispered, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "Are you tired of having to save me all the time? Do you want me to go away?"

"No, I don't want to be without you, Bonnie, of course not. Be rational. And I have no problem with saving you, either — if it weren't for the fact that I was the one putting you in danger… that I'm the reason that you're here."

"Yes, you are the reason." I frowned. "The reason I'm here —alive."

"Barely." Her voice was just a whisper. "Covered in gauze and plaster and hardly able to move."

"I wasn't referring to my most recent near-death experience," I said, growing irritated. "I was thinking of the others — you can take your pick. If it weren't for you, I would be rotting away in the Forks cemetery." She winced at my words, but the haunted look didn't leave her eyes.

"That's not the worst part, though," she continued to whisper. She acted as if I hadn't spoken. "Not seeing you there on the floor… crumpled and broken." Her voice was choked. "Not thinking I was too late. Not even hearing you scream in pain — all those unbearable memories that I'll carry with me for the rest of eternity. No, the very worst was feeling… knowing that I couldn't stop. Believing that I was going to kill you myself."

"But you didn't."

"I could have. So easily."

I knew I needed to stay calm… but she was trying to talk herself into leaving me, and the panic fluttered in my lungs, trying to get out.

"Promise me," I whispered.

"What?"

"You know what." I was starting to get angry now. She was so stubbornly determined to dwell on the negative.

She heard the change in my tone. Her eyes tightened. "I don't seem to be strong enough to stay away from you, so I suppose that you'll get your way… whether it kills you or not," she added roughly.

"Good." She hadn't promised, though — a fact that I had not missed. The panic was only barely contained; I had no strength left to control the anger. "You told me how you stopped… now I want to know why," I demanded.

"Why?" she repeated warily.

"Why you did it. Why didn't you just let the venom spread? By now I would be just like you."

Marceline's eyes seemed to turn flat black, and I remembered that this was something she'd never intended me to know. Flame must have been preoccupied by the things she'd learned about herself… or she'd been very careful with her thoughts around her — clearly, she'd had no idea that she'd filled me in on the mechanics of vampire conversions. She was surprised, and infuriated. Her nostrils flared, her mouth looked as if it was chiseled from stone. She wasn't going to answer, that much was clear.

"I'll be the first to admit that I have no experience with relationships," I said. "But it just seems logical… two in a couple have to be somewhat equal… as in, one of them can't always be swooping in and saving the other one. They have to save each other equally."

She folded her arms on the side of my bed and rested her chin on her arms. Her expression was smooth, the anger reined in. Evidently she'd decided she wasn't angry with me. I hoped I'd get a chance to warn Flame before she caught up with her.

"You have saved me" she said quietly.

"I can't always be Lois Lane" I insisted. "I want to be Superman, too."

"You don't know what you're asking." Her voice was soft; she stared intently at the edge of the pillowcase.

"I think I do."

"Bonnie, you don't know. I've had almost ninety years to think about this, and I'm still not sure."

"Do you wish that Hudson hadn't saved you?"

"No, I don't wish that." She paused before continuing. "But my life was over. I wasn't giving anything up."

"You are my life. You're the only thing it would hurt me to lose." I was getting better at this. It was easy to admit how much I needed her.

She was very calm, though. Decided.

"I can't do it, Bonnie. I won't do that to you."

"Why not?" My throat rasped and the words weren't as loud as I'd meant them to be. "Don't tell me it's too hard! After today, or I guess it was a few days ago… anyway, after that, it should be nothing."

She glared at me.

"And the pain?" she asked.

I blanched. I couldn't help it. But I tried to keep my expression from showing how clearly I remembered the feeling… the fire in my veins.

"That's my problem," I said. "I can handle it."

"It's possible to take bravery to the point where it becomes insanity."

"It's not an issue. Three days. Big deal."

Marceline grimaced again as my words reminded her that I was more informed than she had ever intended me to be. I watched her repress the anger, watched as her eyes grew speculative.

"Gummy?" she asked curtly. "Bubble?"

Minutes passed in silence as I struggled to answer her question. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I closed it again. She waited, and her expression became triumphant because she knew I had no true answer.

"Look, that's not an issue either," I finally muttered; my voice was as unconvincing as it always was when I lied. "Bubble has always made the choices that work for her — she'd want me to do the same. And Gummy's resilient, he's used to being on his own. I can't take care of them forever. I have my own life to live."

"Exactly," she snapped. "And I won't end it for you."

"If you're waiting for me to be on my deathbed, I've got news for you! I was just there!"

"You're going to recover," she reminded me.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, ignoring the spasm of pain it triggered. I stared at her, and she stared back. There was no compromise in her face.

"No," I said slowly. "I'm not."

Her forehead creased. "Of course you are. You may have a scar or two…"

"You're wrong," I insisted. "I'm going to die."

"Really, Bonnie." She was anxious now. "You'll be out of here in a few days. Two week at most."

I glared at her. "I may not die now… but I'm going to die sometime. Every minute of the day, I get closer. And I'm going to get old."

She frowned as what I was saying sunk in, pressing her long fingers to her temples and closing her eyes. "That's how it's supposed to happen. How it should happen. How it would have happened if I didn't exist— and I shouldn't exist."

I snorted. She opened her eyes in surprise. "That's stupid. That's like going to someone who's just won the lottery, taking their money, and saying, 'Look, let's just go back to how things should be. It's better that way.' And I'm not buying it."

"I'm hardly a lottery prize," she growled.

"That's right. You're much better."

She rolled her eyes and set her lips. "Bonnie, we're not having this discussion anymore. I refuse to damn you to an eternity of night and that's the end of it."

"If you think that's the end, then you don't know me very well," I warned her. "You're not the only vampire I know."

Her eyes went black again. "Flame wouldn't dare."

And for a moment she looked so frightening that I couldn't help but believe it — I couldn't imagine someone brave enough to cross her.

"Flame already saw it, didn't she?" I guessed. "That's why the things she says upset you. She knows I'm going to be like you… someday."

"She's wrong. She also saw you dead, but that didn't happen, either."

"You'll never catch me betting against Flame."

We stared at each other for a very long time. It was quiet except for the whirring of the machines, the beeping, the dripping, the ticking of the big clock on the wall. Finally, her expression softened.

"So where does that leave us?" I wondered.

She chuckled humorlessly. "I believe it's called an impasse."

I sighed. "Ouch," I muttered.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, eyeing the button for the nurse.

"I'm fine," I lied.

"I don't believe you," she said gently.

"I'm not going back to sleep."

"You need rest. All this arguing isn't good for you."

"So give in," I hinted.

"Nice try." She reached for the button.

"No!"

She ignored me.

"Yes?" the speaker on the wall squawked.

"I think we're ready for more pain medication," she said calmly, ignoring my furious expression.

"I'll send in the nurse." The voice sounded very bored.

"I won't take it," I promised.

She looked toward the sack of fluids hanging beside my bed. "I don't think they're going to ask you to swallow anything."

My heart rate started to climb. She read the fear in my eyes, and sighed in frustration.

"Bonnie, you're in pain. You need to relax so you can heal. Why are you being so difficult? They're not going to put any more needles in you now."

"I'm not afraid of the needles," I mumbled. "I'm afraid to close my eyes."

Then she smiled her crooked smile, and took my face between her hands. "I told you I'm not going anywhere. Don't be afraid. As long as it makes you happy, I'll be here."

I smiled back, ignoring the ache in my cheeks. "You're talking about forever, you know."

"Oh, you'll get over it — it's just a crush."

I shook my head in disbelief— it made me dizzy. "I was shocked when Bubble swallowed that one. I know you know better."

"That's the beautiful thing about being human," she told me. "Things change."

My eyes narrowed. "Don't hold your breath."

She was laughing when the nurse came in, brandishing a syringe.

"Excuse me," she said brusquely to Marceline.

She got up and crossed to the end of the small room, leaning against the wall. She folded her arms and waited. I kept my eyes on her, still apprehensive. She met my gaze calmly.

"Here you go, honey." The nurse smiled as she injected the medicine into my tube. "You'll feel better now."

"Thanks," I mumbled, unenthusiastic. It didn't take long. I could feel the drowsiness trickling through my bloodstream almost immediately.

"That ought to do it," she muttered as my eyelids drooped.

She must have left the room, because something cold and smooth touched my face.

"Stay." The word was slurred.

"I will," she promised. Her voice was beautiful, like a lullaby. "Like I said, as long as it makes you happy… as long as it's what's best for you."

I tried to shake my head, but it was too heavy. "'S not the same thing," I mumbled.

She laughed. "Don't worry about that now, Bonnie. You can argue with me when you wake up."

I think I smiled. '"Kay."

I could feel her lips at my ear.

"I love you," she whispered.

"Me, too."

"I know," she laughed quietly.

I turned my head slightly… searching. She knew what I was after. Her lips touched mine gently.

"Thanks," I sighed.

"Anytime."

I wasn't really there at all anymore. But I fought against the stupor weakly. There was just one more thing I wanted to tell her.

"Marceline?" I struggled to pronounce her name clearly.

"Yes?"

"I'm betting on Flame" I mumbled.

And then the night closed over me.