A/N: So, my laptop got sick and had to go to the doctor... so I can't write until it comes home all well, but hopefully that will be sooner rather than later. Luckily I can use my parent's desktop!!! :-D Thanks to LittleLea05 to being my sweet beta!!! :-) And thanks to everyone who has reviewed, you rock!!!

Disclaimer: Don't own in it. Never did.

BPOV

"Swan, I want some water," Emmett called from the bedroom. I rolled my eyes and tried very hard not to throw the ice cubes violently into the glass.

It had been three days, and Emmett was already whiny and restless. I was always ten seconds away from throttling him, and another ten seconds from kissing his boo-boos to make them better. I did neither.

"And bring me a movie. I'm getting sick of daytime TV."

"Anything else?" I asked politely, though I was clenching my jaw.

"Nahh, I'm good."

I filled the glass with tap water, grabbed a random DVD box off of his shelf, and strode to his bedroom. The door was wide open, as usual. Emmett was spread out on his giant bed, propped up on more than a dozen pillows. He looked uncomfortable, and I knew it was almost time for him to take another pain killer.

I handed him his glass, and popped the DVD in the player. I wasn't sure which movie I'd picked out; anything would do to silence him for awhile, at least until it was time for his meds and they kicked in.

"What movie is it?"

I glanced at the box. "Blade."

He flopped his head back on the pillow. "I just watched that."

"Well, I'm very sorry, Emmett, I just grabbed it off the shelf. Did you have anything specific in mind?"

"No, its fine," he grumbled.

One thing I had to give Emmett; he was demanding and at times petulant, but he wasn't a diva. He didn't make me redo things; he usually went with the flow. I appreciated it.

"Do you need anything else?"

This entire time we hadn't made eye contact once. Emmett stared sullenly at the TV. I felt a tiny wave of pity for him. He looked so sad, so defeated by his injuries. "No, I'm okay. I'll need medicine soon. It hurts."

He looked slightly embarrassed that he had just admitted that to me.

"I'll bring your meds in a minute," I promised. "Are you hungry?"

"No."

That alone tells you he wasn't feeling good. The man usually ate like a ravenous grizzly. In the last three days, he'd barely eaten a handful of crackers, and it was already showing on his face. His cheeks, normally dimpled and smiling like the cocky bastard that he was, were slightly sunken in and pale white. His well-muscled arms laid limply at his sides, his left arm well protected in a cast.

"Okay, I'll leave you to your movie now," I said, and slipped from the room. When I looked over my shoulder, he was already asleep, long before the opening scene was even over.

Times like this make me feel incredibly guilty that I'm ever annoyed with him. He was so fragile, so weak.

Esme called just as I was getting Emmett's pills together in a tiny plastic cup.

"Hello, love. How is my Emmy Bear?"

"He's really tired, and uncomfortable. I think its part heat, part pain, part restlessness."

She sighed deeply. "I suspected as much. Listen, Bella, I'll be there in four days. I can stay for a few days, and you can take the weekend off."

"I'm sure Emmett will be glad you're here."

"Are you two not getting along yet?"

"We're both trying. It's not bad, Esme. He's too knocked out most of the time to really piss me off."

She laughed lightly. "I'm sure. I still don't know what it is with you kids… Well, anyway, Bella, I just wanted to check up on you two and see how things were going. Tell Emmett I love him."

"I will, Esme. Have a good night."

"Talk with you later, darling. Bye!"

Almost as soon as I hung up, my cell phone rang again. Edward.

"Hi, Bella," he said in his smooth, seductive voice. "How are you tonight?"

I immediately felt my panties getting wet just thinking about him. "Well, right now I'm giving Emmett his pills, but after that's done, I was going to curl up on the couch and read a little."

"Read? Baby, I have much bigger plans for you than reading. Not that the idea of you all naked and reading isn't sexy."

"Who said anything about being naked?" I asked, laughing.

"No one, but it's such a better picture overall."

I rolled my eyes. Edward's mind was never far from sex. Much like Emmett, I supposed, though Edward knew how to keep it in his pants. Or rather, in my pants. I liked it that way.

"Can I come over?" he asked in a silky tone I knew I could never say no to.

"Of course," I breathed, and immediately began tidying the living room. My heart was always pounding out of control whenever I thought of Edward, and more specifically, the things he was going to do to me.

I flashed a guilty look towards Emmett's bedroom. He was asleep, though you could tell it wasn't restful. He whimpered in his sleep, trying to shift. I sighed deeply.

"Uh, Edward, that might not be such a good idea right now. I want to see you, but I think it'll have to wait."

I could hear him growl low in his throat. "Fine. Tell your invalid I hope he feels better."

"That's nice talk from someone who wants to be a doctor."

He ignored me. "Good night, Bella," he said tersely.

"Night, Edward."

He hung up, and I could feel the tension in my body. I was sexually frustrated and pissed off, first at Edward for being so cold, and at Emmett, for being the injured cockblocking jerk that he was.

And once again, that wave of guilt bombarded me.

I grabbed Emmett's meds and walked into his bedroom. He was still asleep, but practically panting from a dream.

"Emmett. Emmett!" I hissed, resting my hand gently on his good arm. "Wake up! I have your medicine."

He moaned, and I couldn't help but bite my lip at the sound. It was gravely and sexy. Whoa, where did that thought come from?! That moan, paired with his sexy, muscular body and angelic face, made me think of things I really shouldn't have even considered. I shook my head and blinked hard as if to get the unwanted images out of my mind.

"Emmett, I have your medicine for you."

He groaned again, and blinked his eyes open. Blurry and unfocused, they were still that deep blue that made my heart skitter a bit in my chest.

Once again, Bella, what the fuck? I thought to myself.

"Thank you," he rasped, trying to hoist himself up on his pillows. I tried to help him out, but the man was as thick as a tree. It was hard to budge him an inch. I wasn't as tiny as my best friend, Alice, but I also wasn't known for my great feats of strength. Next to Emmett, I was a tiny, china doll.

After a few more minutes of struggling, Emmett finally got into a seated position on the bed, and I handed him his cup of pills. One was for pain, one to fight infection, and the other, a simple multi vitamin to keep his body functioning.

"Are you hungry?"

"No," he said, still looking as weak as ever. "But maybe I should eat something."

"That's what I was thinking."

Ten minutes later, I had made up some chicken broth and added some soda crackers to his plate. I wasn't sure how much to give him, but I knew that whatever I gave him, he wouldn't finish it all.

It was bizarre seeing him this way. His entire left side had practically been crushed by the Hummer, and it was a miracle his bones hadn't shattered entirely. Half of his body was on the mend, useless at the moment. He was really lucky to be alive.

He was flicking through the channels of his TV with his good right arm. Except for some minor bruises and scrapes, the right side of his body was practically unscathed.

"Thanks," he said hoarsely.

"Your mom called. She says she loves you. She'll be back in a few days. They're all so worried about you."

"Well, they shouldn't be," he said suddenly, harshly. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. I don't need anyone's sympathy."

"I know you will," I said, snapping back. "Now eat something, and let me know when to take your bowl. You can lift the spoon, I assume. I wouldn't want you to need anyone's help for anything."

I didn't mean for my words to come out so spitefully, but I couldn't help myself. One minute, I'd be flooded with guilt for how he was, for seeing him so broken and sad. The next, I was trying to figure out how to give him enough morphine to make him sleep for weeks. I'd never do it… never intentionally hurt him… but damn, there were moments when I was sorely tempted.

He'd always been able to get under my skin, even when most other people wouldn't deem it a big deal. I'm sure most people would've given him a hug and told him he was right. But everything he said bothered me one way or another. I couldn't explain it. It was like it was written in my genetic code to loathe him.

"Whatever," he muttered, and continued to stare at the TV in front of him. I clenched my jaw and whirled around on my heel. I flounced onto the couch, grabbing my book, and hastily started reading.

Five minutes later, I was still reading the same paragraph. I glanced through his bedroom door and saw that he was asleep again, his neck twisted at an odd angle. His mouth was pulled into a frown, and again, that infuriating part of me, that tiny piece of my brain called out to me, making me note how full his lips really were.

Fuck, I'm going off the deep end, I thought to myself. I lust after, and hate, my "patient." What the fuck is wrong with me?

I pulled out my phone. It rang several times before the person on the other end picked up.

"Edward, it's me. On second thought, can you come over now?"

EmPOV

Bright colors. Flashes of memories. Really vivid dreams involving The Wizard of Oz and episodes of Star Trek.

These meds really fucked with my mind.

I couldn't do much besides sleep. Even if my body was awake, I slept, because sleeping kept me from thinking. The last thing I wanted to think about was how badly this was going to fuck up my future in hockey… my future in anything.

It was the single most frustrating thing I'd ever experienced. I wasn't used to being waited on, and I didn't like it. The last thing I wanted was people's sympathy I know I'd gotten mail from family and friends, probably telling me how much they loved me, and how they wanted me to recover quickly, and feel better, and blah blah blah. I wasn't having it. After several angry outbursts on my part, Swan knew better than to bring them to me.

It was to the point where I didn't even want to hear my mother's voice. She was so kind, and so full of love and empathy for everyone, that she couldn't help but ooze it every time she called me on the phone. She wouldn't talk for long, but it was more than enough to make me go crazy. I couldn't take the kindness, the love, and the coos of well wishes.

There was another benefit to sleep.

If I slept, I could keep my mind well away from Swan.

I hadn't seen her in years, but I could have sworn the last time I saw her, she wasn't stunningly beautiful like she was now. She used to be gawky and wear big old granny glasses. She hid her face with huge bangs and horrendous makeup and barely talked above a squeak.

Now… damn, she'd grown up. Still pale white and small, with that rich brown hair, but she was confident now. Sexy. Curvy. Incredibly fuckable.

I groaned to see that one part of my anatomy was still fully functioning. Maybe I could convince her that was one part of my therapy, a nice, good old fashioned hand job.

Probably not.

The medicines I'd just ingested suddenly hit me like a Mack truck, and I was out like a light.

This time, I had a very vivid and realistic dream about Swan riding me fast and hard in my bed. It was a good dream.