"It's OK," Jacob whispered, as the pain spread outward from her chest, a rippling band. "I know it hurts, but you're safe." The panic fluttered with it, making her thrash, trying to get away.

This time, though, his hands were icy cold, as they locked down hers. "You're OK, Bella, just relax," he said, and she could only panic more. The pressure in her lungs was vicious, pulsing with each strained breath.

There were cold hands at her face, then her mouth, and finally, the cupping of something over both that made her flail even more. When she felt his body sliding over hers, she only knew the fire in her lungs and throat as she tried to scream him away.

The last thing she felt was an echoing sting in her arm, and then a blessed, and silent oblivion.

Edward released her arms, feeling them go slack, wishing he could have such release. Or sleep. He stood, half poised over her, dully aware of the rapid, and medical machinations Carlisle's mind was making.

Becoming louder, were Alice's panicked sifting through a set of other possibilities.

Edward swore softly to himself.

What? Carlisle asked calmly, wordlessly, still weighing different medical treatments.

"Charlie," Edward spat, reviewing the fractured futures Alice was seeing. "He's coming here to get her, but... it's still uncertain."

"How long?" Carlisle asked, calculating when Bella would waken from the sleep he'd put her in.

Edward focused, listening to Alice. "Late afternoon," Edward finally said, brushing Bella's hair off her forehead. She was still febrile, even after the night.

The future refused to solidify, flickering and flowering in too many different paths for Alice to be precise. "We'll deal with what comes," Edward said quietly, hoping to reassure her. He didn't feel it himself. "She's safe. He can't force her to leave."

But Charlie was exploring just that option.

He was standing at Judge Neal's door, hand poised to knock, when it opened, and the honourable Mark Neal stood before him, slightly startled, clearly dressed to head into the garden. "Charlie," he said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, a little confused. A little worried. It was his day off.

"Nothing official," he said, his face a painting of many feelings, all warring for expression, "it's Bella," he finally said.

"Come on in," Mark said, "if it isn't official."

They sat down at the dining room table, Charlie waving away the offer of a coffee. "Bella's gotten mixed up with someone...Kinda like your Diane was," he said, looking at him pleadingly.

"Oh God, Charlie, I'm so sorry."

"Yeah," he said, "me too. She left. Yesterday, after...well, you remember what we tried."

"Oh God," Mark said softly, rubbing his face briefly with his hands, "you didn't."

"I did," Charlie sighed, mirroring his friend's gesture. He felt Mark's hand briefly grip his shoulder.

"How can I help you then?" his friend asked, trying to settle his own pained, but empathetic expression.

"I'm not sure you can," he said, "she's sick. Pneumonia. Holed up with the bastard who's hurt her. She doesn't want to see me."

Mark nodded, and Charlie went on.

"His family. It's weird—cult-like, almost. I don't know how, but there's some kinda hold they've got on her." He paused, adding, "I think, if I could get her away, even for a few days, she'd see sense."

Mark looked at him shrewdly. "Ah," he said, understanding, seeing Charlie's look. "You know those orders are rare, Charlie," drumming his fingers on the table.

"Yes," Charlie said, watching him just as carefully.

"You're asking a lot," Mark continued, quietly, looking down at his hands.

"I'm only asking what you did of me," Charlie said softly, all his pleading in his eyes. "Please, Mark. I don't know what he's doing, but she was bruised as all heck and hiding it. Jittery. Afraid to see her friends. Making all sorts of crazy accusations."

The judge blew out his own breath, stomach twisting. He knew exactly how Charlie felt. Had been there himself.

"Is it just the temporary custody you need?"

"And a restraining order," he said. "At least temporarily." Then he explained for who, the name making Mark's eyebrows curve high on his forehead.

"Jeezus, really?" he asked.

Charlie nodded, staring at the table.

"And she hasn't made a complaint?"

"No," Charlie admitted.

"'Course not," Mark mumbled, looking down, shaking his head.

They both sat silently for a while.

"You gonna try to see her?" he asked, turning possibilities over in his mind.

"Try to," he said, "after I leave here."

"If she isn't competent—and there's no wiggling on that, you can enact both, but if she's awake and refuses, you haven't got anything, Charlie. I'm sorry."

"I understand," he said, "thank you," nodding, standing.

Mark was grabbing the phone, dialing his clerk's number.

Alice squeezed her eyes together with her hands, moaning. "Carlisle," she said, "you need to wake her up. Now."

Edward made the same sound, seeing what was playing out. He crunched an angry fist into his thigh.

Damn him, he thought. Fool! If the man couldn't see sense—

Alice was filling in Carlisle, who was shaking his head. "I can't," he said, "she needs this," he said, gesturing to her now peaceful form.

"He'll take her, Carlisle," Edward was growling.

"Where?" Carlisle asked.

"The hospital," Alice said.

"He has orders from his friend, a judge," Edward said, "until she can speak for herself, he has legal control."

"Would it be so bad, that she be in a hospital?" Carlisle asked, looking at him.

"No," Alice interrupted, "but the restraining order he has on all of us is."

Carlisle regarded her calmly, and then at Edward. "We can leave," he said softly. "If you want. If you think it's what Bella wants."

Edward considered it, but shook his head. "No," he said, "she isn't ready."

Carlisle's thoughts were clear. He loves her, Edward. For all his mistakes, he's her father. He prizes her well being as much as we do.

"He needs to know what happened," Edward said, "for her to be safe." Unspoken, but just as true, they all knew this needed to come from Bella. Their credibility was too suspect with Charlie now.

The three of them sat, listening to the rhythmic wheeze of Bella's shallow breaths.

A legal challenge to Charlie's authority simply wasn't possible. There was simply too little time.

"Then we let him take her," Carlisle said softly, running a hand through his hair.

Edward was feeling the closest thing to panic a vampire could feel. "No," he said. It made the hair on his arms stand on edge, his muscles rigid with anxiety. "No," he said again, imagining the worst possibilities.

Carlisle regarded him cooly. "If she isn't ready to leave, or you're not willing to make that choice for her, then I don't see what other choice we have."

Edward wanted to scream at him, to deny this reality, but could see its cold logic, despite the heat of his own feeling.

Charlie was earlier than expected. And not alone.

Two police cars crunched their way to the Cullens' front door, and matching police officers exited them. It was Carlisle who met them, eyebrows rising convincingly, as he opened the front door.

"Dr. Cullen," Charlie said, remarkably even-voiced.

"Chief," Carlisle said, nodding to his deputy. "This looks very official."

"It is," Charlie said, and handed him the papers.

Carlisle pretended to study them, asking Charlie, "and what do these mean, exactly?"

"That Bella comes with us," Charlie replied, voice still tight with the pretense of calm. "And you don't."

"She's quite ill," Carlisle said, "and sedated."

Charlie flushed angrily.

They were still standing on the doorstep.

"Sedated," Charlie repeated.

"Yes," Carlisle said. "She has pneumonia. It helps with rest."

Edward could hear the wild accusations swimming under the screen of Charlie's topmost thoughts.

"I'm sure it helps with lots of things," Charlie said, lips pressed together angrily. "Like keeping her from leaving."

Carlisle sighed. "She came here of her own free will Charlie," he said softly.

"Free will my ass," he spat back.

WIth a look that made both men take a step back, Carlisle leaned forward, saying, "I didn't force her into the back of a cop car, to go see the man she'd just told you was hurting her."

Charlie's deputy's eyebrows went flying, Carlisle's predatory face forgotten, looking at Charlie incredulously.

Charlie made himself lean forward against his better instincts, gritting out, "the boy who hurt her is no friend of mine, and you have a lot of gall, patching her up for him to beat again."

Carlisle's voice was shoving at the edges of its human approximation, too loud in places and too perfect in others to be believed without great denial. Charlie perches on the very edge of this belief, hearing him talk. "Edward has never hurt Bella. Ever," he said, "and wouldn't."

Charlie's cheeks were a dusky shade of mulberry. "Yes," he said, "breaking her heart. That was nothing. And the bruises—probably nothing to you. You waiting for there to be a body, before you think there's something wrong with that kid?"

Spurred by Alice's increasingly panicked visions, Jasper had come to the door, asking Carlisle in a perfectly innocent voice, "what's happening?"

Everyone's hands relaxed.

"They're here for Bella," Carlisle said, turning, not inviting them, but moving aside to let them enter. "She needs oxygen to travel. She's on IVs. I'd recommend an ambulance," he added, "but you can see for yourself."

Charlie's deputy pulled out his phone, starting to call, but Charlie put his hand out, stopping him.

When Charlie reached Edward's room, his face darkened again, realizing whose it was.

Edward stood up from where he'd been sitting by Bella, moving aside to let Charlie pass.

In deference to the heat of the fever, Alice had changed her into a pair of light jersey shorts and a tank top. They left no question as to where her bruises lay, and Charlie gasped quietly at the bright weal raised on her shoulder, and the dark smear that was the bruise on her inner thigh.

"Out," he said, afraid he might do something to undermine his authority. "Now."

None of the Cullens protested, Edward included, who looked at Bella, heart and mind overfull.

Before he could leave, though, Charlie turned on him. "You," he said, jabbing his airy finger at Edward. "You will answer for what you've done."

Edward faced Charlie, and returned the sentiment in icy tones, "and so will you. We'll see who lands on the better side of it."

Then he turned, and left, and Charlie picked Bella up, carrying her outside.