It was another day before Charlie was fully awake himself, only to find Bella fast asleep.

"Charlie," Edward said, hearing him, leaning forward.

Charlie didn't quite know how to react to Edward, squinting, wondering what the hell had happened that Bella had wound up with Jacob again.

And Jacob.

Jesus.

He'd turned into a dog. A giant fricking—

"Charlie?"

"Yep, here," he croaked out.

Edward brought over a glass of water and a straw, holding it to him. "Not too much," he said, pulling it away after Charlie had a sip.

"What happened?"

"Bella used your phone to call us," Edward said.

"And Jacob?"

Edward shook his head. "He wasn't there," he lied smoothly.

Charlie, though, had had enough of his world view jarred that he wasn't quite so willing to accept this.

"There was no reception on that island."

"She called us." Edward shrugged.

Charlie looked at the bandages and tubes in himself, then at the ones on Bella's sleeping form, and said, "very much doubt either of us would be here, if she'd left me to do that." He reached over and gripped Edward's wrist with a ferocity that surprised his son-in-law. "Don't lie to me."

Edward pulled his hand away, gently enough so he wouldn't hurt Charlie, but it was still enough of a hard yank to be felt. "How else would we have found you?"

Swallowing, Charlie said, "I haven't got a clue, but I don't buy the bull you're trying to sell me."

The persistent image of Jacob morphing into a wolf, mid jump, was clear to Edward from Charlie's mind.

"Jacob was there," Charlie said.

"I believe you."

"And I put at least five shots into him at point-blank range. People don't get up and walk away from that."

"No," Edward agreed, "people don't."

Werewolves did.

They stared at each other, stubbornly refusing to give the other ground.

It was at this point that Bella woke, their voices having roused her.

"Dad?" she hushed out, not sure she'd heard him.

"Hey," he said, voice suddenly soft, reaching over with his hand. "You OK?"

"I am," she said, "and I'm way better now that you're awake." Her voice was small with near tears.

His face was shadowed with so many worries. "He didn't—" then he flushed angrily, "it looked—"

"I'm fine, Dad," she said, "I had to get him close enough to knife him."

Charlie stared, swallowing.

"Rose's been teaching her self-defense," Edward explained, wanting to shove Charlie away from this line of questioning.

He took the hint, sliding his eyes over her bandages.

"Cuts," she said, "I slipped with the knife, after."

Charlie's eyebrows went up, and he looked at Edward. "You give us a minute?"

Edward returned his look with a wary one, moving his gaze to Bella for an answer.

"S'OK," she said.

"I'll be just outside," he murmured, kissing her forehead, slipping out the door.

"Those aren't knife cuts," Charlie said. He kept eye contact, watching her flush, knowing it was lie.

She'd tried, working with Edward, to come up with a convincing lie. Rehearsed it even. They'd agreed that Jacob disappearing—and he had, for all intents and purposes, into the ocean—was better than burdening the chief of police with the knowledge of dead body.

A wolfy one.

That he might be tempted to go look for.

"I saw something—" he stopped, "that I can't explain. But I don't doubt what I saw. Maybe you can tell me what you saw."

She swallowed, heart rate ticking up.

"What did you see, Dad?" throwing it back at him.

"I saw Jacob Black turn into a giant dog."

She burst into a fit of laughter, regretting it almost immediately, hand at her ribs.

The ridiculousness of his wording kept dancing across her mind.

A dog.

Charlie's face was flushed, but still utterly serious, and it chilled her, seeing the resolution there.

Her own features melted back into a stony silence.

"And you saw it too," he went on, lifting his eyebrows, seeing her swallow nervously.

Outside, Edward's alarm only grew. Flagging a passing nurse, he told her Charlie was awake, and she dropped her chart on a gurney, rushing into the room.

"Mr. Swan, you're up," she huffed, "how're you feeling?"

"I'm fine," he blurted out, "if you could—"

"I'm just going to page the doctor," she said, "and we need to do a few tests." She pulled the curtain between the two beds, cutting off his visual access to Bella, and Edward slipped his hand into hers, eyebrows raised meaningfully.

"Thank you," she mouthed to him.

He nodded. Now that Charlie was awake, he knew he'd have a better chance of convincing Bella to go home. They could take care of her there, just as well as here. He doubted she'd want to leave her father though.

Charlie's doctor provided the saving grace.

"I'd like you and your daughter in separate rooms, Mr. Swan," he said, almost apologetically. "You need rest, and the fewer intrusions, the better. Visits are OK, but only for short periods."

"I'll come by tomorrow, Dad, OK?" Bella said.

He grimaced, but nodded, not disagreeing with the doctor's verdict. He felt like crap. But he would get his answers. Soon.

In her own room, Bella looked worriedly at Edward. "He knows, Edward. You heard him—"

Edward held a cold finger to her lips. "Yes," he said, "he saw Jacob phase. I doubt very much, that the chief of police for Forks will advertise that much."

"No," she breathed. "But he knows. And if he saw that—"

"He will not go looking for other holes in his reality. Trust me." He hadn't so much as flinched at the icy temperature of his arm. No, their secret was safe. For now.

"OK," she said, letting it go for the moment.

Edward was rummaging around on a side table, where Alice had left the food Esme had made.

Bella made a face, seeing it.

"You wouldn't dare hurt your mother-in-law's feelings, would you?" Edward teased.

"No, I wouldn't. And you wouldn't hurt her feelings by telling her."

"Please?" he tried again, holding out the bowl of soup, letting its fragrance waft in her direction.

Food had largely lost its appeal, and while she would eat when pressed, her appetite had taken a nosedive in the last few weeks.

She soldiered through half of what he'd served, shaking her head at the cookies he waved in front of her.

"I thought you liked chocolate chip," he murmured, putting them aside.

She shrugged minutely. "The pain medication isn't helping."

There was no way he was letting her forego that.

She could practically see the way his thoughts were running, saying, "I know, I need it to prevent pneumonia, yada, yada, yada."

"Yada," he said, rolling his eyes, taking her hand and kissing it.

"That I'll take more of though."

"No problem," he whispered, running the kisses further up her arm, flipping the switch off on her heart monitor alarm when he reached her elbow, and then continuing his work up towards her lips.

His touch supplanted all the other sensations competing for feeling in her body. The ache at her ribs evaporated, and the sting of flesh, trying to knit itself together, were banished, only the ripple of his cold presence wafting over her.

He was better than any balm, or drug she'd ever felt.

So when she felt him pulling away, she groaned.

He flicked the heart monitor back on as a nurse hip checked the door to her room open. Trailing after he was Bella's own doctor.

He was noting how well Bella looked, and thinking she could probably be discharged in the next day or so. When he told her as much, she frowned.

"Like it here that much, huh?" he joked, catching the look.

"No," she murmured, "it's just my Dad, he's here. And—"

"Yes," he said, "I understand. We're not kicking you out by any means, but patients tend to do better at home, all things considered. No rush on our end."

When they were alone again, Edward said, "I'd rather you were home, Bella. He's right, and you'd be much more comfortable."

"But, Charlie—"

"We can come see him whenever you want." Once a day, with Edward present. So that she wasn't bothered by questions she clearly couldn't handle.

She'd been sleeping in fits and starts during the days and nights, and this night was no exception. Trying to get comfortable again, she held out her good hand to Edward, who came to stand by her.

"Come lie down with me?" she asked.

"No way," he said, shaking his head, smiling. He knew the look on her face. "Aside from you being barely well enough to let me kiss you, there isn't enough room."

She frowned. He was right. The bed felt narrow with the things she was attached to.

Her sigh was tiny, not because the emotions were, but because moving air hurt far too much.

"OK," she said, "let's go home then."

In the morning, Charlie was surprised to see Edward bring Bella into his room in a wheelchair.

"Where are you headed, all dressed up?" he asked, looking pale, and wan, but trying to appear otherwise for Bella.

"Heading home," she said softly. "But I'll be back to visit every day, OK? And you can call me if you need anything."

"I'll look forward to it," he said, "but you are the last person I'll be calling if I need anything."

Edward chuckled, and Charlie glanced at him.

Alice knocked at this point, slipping into the room with a rustling shopping bag.

"Hey," she said to Charlie, "Esme wanted me to drop a few things off for you."

"Oh," Charlie said, frowning a little, "that was really nice, she didn't—"

"She was happy to," Alice said, giving a small smile. "Please let us know if you need anything." She looked at Bella, whose expression mirrored her own. "Ready?" she asked.

"Sure," Bella said, waiting on Edward.

"Can I borrow your husband for a minute, Bella?" Charlie asked.

It was the first time she'd heard him use the term, and she nodded, her throat suddenly tight. "Sure, Dad. I'll come to see you tomorrow, OK?"

"Love you," he husked out.

"You too."

Alice wheeled her out of the room, leaving Charlie to fix Edward with a purposeful stare.

"Tell me again, what happened," he said.

Edward did, explaining how Bella had called them, and that Jacob hadn't been there.

"And you have no idea where Jacob might be?"

He did. Precisely. In waterlogged pieces.

"No." His features were impeccably controlled. Just like the movements he'd used to rend the creature's limbs. And other bodily pieces.

"Bullshit." Charlie grimaced, feeling pains twitch where they had no right to be. An alarm started blipping in the background, and he began to pale. "I know when I'm being lied to."

"Charlie," Edward said, worried about his health, already precarious, "what do you expect me to tell you?"

"The truth," he growled out.

Then there were more alarms, and more people in the room, and Edward watched the nurse begin murmuring to him, seeing his distress, trying to find out where and how much the pain was.

She was injecting something into his IV line, but Charlie's eyes were fixed on Edward still, letting him know this conversation was only paused, and most certainly not over.

"He needs to rest," the nurse was saying to Edward now, "come back later, after he's rested, alright?"

He nodded, watching Charlie being pulled reluctantly back under by the drugs flooding his system. When he was certain of his well being, he turned and left, going to take his wife home.