"Go outside, Em," Rosalie said, evenly but firmly.
With a slow exhale, Emmett replied, "I… I think I'm okay." His body was less stiff now.
But she shook her head. "Just go. I can take care of this."
He gave me an apologetic nod then vanished.
"I'm sorry," I stammered.
I was trying not to breathe, trying not to catch the distinctive smell of rust and iron that I knew would leave me light-headed and queasy. But there was a smudge of blood on my hand, and the odor was creeping into my nose.
Rosalie stepped toward me, frowning as she took in my appearance. I knew I had paled, and my skin felt clammy.
"Oh, that's right," she said, her perfect eyebrows drawing together, "blood bothers you."
"I'm okay," I attempted. "I just need to wash it off… I'll just go inside…"
I took a step, but my legs were slightly unsteady. I faltered. Rosalie caught my shoulder lightly and wrapped her arm around my back.
"Come on," she said with a hint of a sigh, "I'll help you to the kitchen."
"You don't need to."
Her grip tightened as my legs weakened. "I think I do."
She escorted me through the door that led into the house. My head was spinning, and I was honestly glad for the support. My wrist stung, too. I didn't think the wound was more than a light scratch, but I was anxious to run some cool water over it.
In a few moments we were in the kitchen, and Rosalie had turned on the water at the sink. She removed the cloth from my wrist then held my forearm under the stream. For just a second the water ran pink, then the blood washed away. The scratch still stung, though.
Rosalie sealed the soiled cloth in a large baggie then threw it into the garbage. She handed me a clean dish towel as I shut off the water. I pressed it over my wrist, resisting the urge to rub at the stinging.
"Sit down," she said, pulling out a chair, "and let me look at it."
"You don't need to do that," I said. "It's nothing, really."
She huffed out a breath. "Try telling that to Edward."
We shared slightly exasperated smiles at that. But I remained concerned. "Doesn't it bother you?" I asked, glancing at my wrist. I hated to state the obvious and utter the word blood.
"I don't think that 'bother' is the right word, Bella," she replied, sitting across from me. "It's slightly tempting to me, but less so than it is to the others, with the exception of Carlisle, and of course Edward, but he doesn't really count." She shrugged.
"Why is it less tempting to you?" I inquired, sincerely interested.
"I studied medicine, too. It was only one time, and I didn't complete the entire program, but I was exposed to blood, and I became slightly inured… not entirely, of course, but more so than Emmett or Esme or Alice."
"I didn't know that about you," I said.
"Why should you?" she replied indifferently.
"I…" I wasn't sure how to respond. Finally I said, "You've all led pretty fascinating lives. I'd like to hear more about them sometime."
"I've studied a lot of things. We all have. But I'll save the specifics for another time." She took my hand and removed the cloth. "Does this hurt?" she asked as she scrutinized the wound.
"It stings a little," I answered. I didn't want to look at it; I was afraid any traces of blood would make me dizzy again. I wasn't entirely clear-headed yet.
"It appears slightly irritated," she reported. "I'll be right back."
She shot out of the room, returning less than a minute later with a small first-aid kit. I recognized it as the one Edward had brought along when we had hiked up into the mountains earlier in the month. I suppressed a shudder at the memory of the battle.
Rosalie unzipped the bag and removed several alcohol wipes. She rubbed one carefully over the scratch, and the stinging discomfort increased. I tried not to flinch, but I couldn't resist sucking in a sharp breath. She glanced up at me.
I gave her a nod to continue. She dabbed at the wound a little more, then she lightly pressed a square of clean gauze over it. When it was dry, she smoothed on a thin layer of antibiotic cream and covered the site with a large adhesive bandage. She had just finished when we heard a tapping at the kitchen door.
Emmett stood outside, an anxious expression on his face. "Can I come in now?" he asked.
Rose nodded in response, and he stepped inside. His eyes moved to the bandage on my wrist.
"You okay?" he asked me.
"Fine. It was just a scrape."
But it still stung mightily, and now I felt a distinct urge to scratch at it. I resisted, instead standing with the intention of getting a glass of water. However, my legs remained slightly shaky; it seemed I wasn't quite over the blood yet. For a moment dizziness clawed at me. I gripped the back of the chair to steady myself.
"Hey… Bella." Emmett's voice was uncharacteristically soft, and his touch was light as he wrapped his huge hand around my shoulder. "Easy there. Maybe you should sit down again. You're still pretty pale."
His face reflected his concern. He glanced at Rosalie, who was repacking the kit. She looked up, saying, "She's all right. It's just the way blood affects her." Her tone was slightly condescending.
"I dunno," Emmett replied, studying me for a long moment. "Maybe we should call Carlisle."
"Really," I protested, "it's nothing. Like Rosalie said, I don't deal with blood well. It makes me light-headed and a little queasy."
"But it's all gone now," he said. "I can barely smell anything."
I shrugged, unsure how to respond to that. I really was a pathetically feeble human. I felt Rosalie's eyes upon me, and my many shortcomings suddenly seemed infinite. My chest grew a bit heavy at the knowledge that I couldn't complete even a simple task without breaking. I had almost started to believe that Rose was tolerating me. Now it felt like we were back to square one.
I didn't realize that I was sitting down again. Emmett must have eased me back into the chair.
"Do you need anything?" he was asking.
"Um, a glass of water, please," I replied.
He had it ready in a few seconds and handed it to me. I took a few long sips then set the glass on the table, saying, "Thanks. That helped. I'm ready to get back to work on those gears."
Rosalie shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"No, really, I'm fine."
She had crossed her arms over her chest. "It doesn't matter. I'm not willing to risk you getting hurt again. Edward's not going to be happy about this as it is."
"I won't tell him—" I began.
"You know he'll find out regardless," she replied.
"But it was my fault completely. He can't be upset with you over it."
She arched a perfect eyebrow at me. "Oh, yes, he can."
Emmett wrapped an arm around her. "We'll explain what happened. He won't be that upset."
"Maybe," she said. "But if I let you back in the garage, all bets are off. I won't be reckless with you, Bella."
Disappointment washed over me. I could almost feel it weighing down upon me. I sighed, my shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Rosie and I'll finish up with your truck," Emmett said cheerfully. "You can just wait in here. You wanna watch a movie?"
"Maybe," I responded glumly.
"It won't take us more than half an hour," Rosalie told me. She was already walking toward the door with Emmett in tow.
"Okay."
I was alone then. I rubbed at my arm, which continued to prickle hotly. I glanced down at it. The area around the bandage was red. I didn't realize I had rubbed that hard. I stood, testing my legs for a few seconds before I shuffled to the living room. I wasn't in the mood for a movie, so I picked up one of Alice's magazines. Naturally it was focused on brides, but there was an article about honeymoon secrets, which piqued my interest slightly. I opened the magazine and began to read.
However, my wrist still itched terribly. I knew that scratching usually made things worse, so I tucked my arm behind a pillow, grateful for the coolness of the fine silk.
It helped for a few minutes, but then the stinging returned, worse than before. I could not resist the impulse to scratch.
I pushed aside the pillow and turned over my arm. For a second or two, I just blinked in surprise at what I saw. My forearm was deep red, from my palm up to my elbow, and the area around the bandage was surrounded by raised, white patches.
The sight left my heart pounding as a gasp escaped me. I could feel my entire body heating up as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.
Emmett's jovial voice tore me from my shock. "Hey Bells, did you find a— What the hell is that?"
He was beside me in an instant, pointing at my arm. I shook my head, trying to calm my breathing enough to answer him.
"I… I'm not sure," I stammered.
"Rose!" he bellowed. "Get in here, now!" He stood stock still, obviously unsure what to do, but I could see him breathing very tentatively.
Rosalie sauntered into the room, wiping her hands on a rag. She could not see my arm over the back of the couch. "What is it?" she asked, her tone reflecting perturbation. However, the moment she saw Emmett's expression she shot around to stand in front of me.
Her gaze swept over me, quickly finding the source of our distress.
"What the hell is that?" Emmett repeated for her benefit. "It looks really weird and painful."
Rosalie took my wrist gingerly, turning it to see both sides. The front of my arm was unaffected.
"It looks like urticaria," she said. "Hives."
"Hives," I repeated. I had heard of the malady but had never experienced it before.
She nodded. "It must be an allergic reaction—possibly to the bandage or maybe to something in the garage."
She removed the bandage quickly. The scratch was quite swollen now, entirely covered by a hive of its own. She ran her fingers gently over the area. The coolness of her skin offered me a moment of relief.
"What do we do about it?" Emmett asked.
"Get the first aid pack," she replied. "I left it in the kitchen cupboard. There should be some cortisone cream in it that will help."
Emmett was gone in a flash. Rosalie sat beside me, studying my face. "You look pale, Bella," she said.
"Um, I guess. I wasn't expecting something like this." It was hard to tear my gaze away from my strangely swollen, mottled skin.
"You've never had this reaction before?"
I shook my head. "I guess I was just surprised."
"Well, try to calm down. Your heart's racing, and that won't help."
"Right… okay…"
Emmett appeared with the kit, and Rosalie dug out a tube of cream. She applied it liberally over the entire affected area.
"It's going to take a little while to begin working," she told me. "Try not to scratch in the meantime."
I nodded.
"And Bella, really, you've got to calm down." She shook her head in mild vexation.
"I'm trying…"
"Take a couple of slow, deep breaths," she suggested.
I nodded and inhaled, but it felt like something was pressing over my chest. My throat was tight, too. It was difficult to take a full breath. With a pang, I realized that I was probably close to tears. I couldn't let Rosalie see me cry, especially over something as ridiculous as hives.
"Could you—" I inhaled shallowly then managed to finish. "Just give me… a minute?"
Rosalie stood. "I'll get you a glass of water," she offered.
"Esme makes her tea when she's upset," Emmett said.
"Do you want tea?" Rose asked.
I nodded. She took a few steps, then turned back to glare at Emmett. "Come on," she said very quickly.
"I think I should stay with her," he replied. "In case she needs anything else."
"She needs a few minutes to herself," she retorted.
I gave a small nod of agreement. Emmett followed his wife from the room. I sat as still as possible, trying to manage a decent breath or two. I reminded myself that being calm would help, that letting myself get upset was the worst thing I could do. But I couldn't seem to inhale effectively. My throat felt tighter than before, my chest heavier, and now nausea began coiling in my belly.
I wheezed in a breath, fighting against the queasiness. My head was beginning to spin, too, so I lay back against the pillows. This was a disaster. I had ruined everything. Rosalie would certainly hate me now, and Edward would be angry with her, somehow blaming her for my body's bizarre reaction. But what if he blamed me? What if he decided that I was just a wretched, weak human after all, and he didn't really want me? Visions of abject loneliness swirled through my head. My world was ending…
To be continued...