It was a long drive to the hospital in Port Angeles. Longer, when you knew your Dad was having a heart attack.
She'd sanctioned speeds that would leave her green and uncertainly stomached.
Alice stayed on the phone, giving her a running commentary as Edward drove.
He kept glancing at Bella, worried by the tight set of her jaw.
"Please, just focus on driving. Faster, if you can." She closed her eyes as they rounded a particularly vicious curve.
He really couldn't. Not during daylight hours. Not without drawing attention that would delay them.
"He's stable, Bella," Alice breathed out.
"Is he awake?"
"No, they've sedated him. Everything seems to be OK right now, from what I can see."
"What you can see, or what you can see?"
"Both," she said.
Bella was only marginally calmer by the time they arrived, moving to sit by the bed, her own worried hands over Charlie's limp one.
The doctor had met them outside the room, explaining what the implications of Charlie's heart attack were.
"He has a long recovery as it is, and I'm afraid this has added to it. I can't stress how important it is that he stays calm." He looked at Bella, and then Edward and Alice, particularly. He'd heard, from the nurses, something about a visit that had gone sideways, and probably triggered the distress.
"Of course," Bella said softly. "Understood."
It'd been late afternoon when they'd gotten there, and it was almost midnight before Charlie woke again, grey and pasty looking.
He made an indistinct sound.
"Don't move," Bella said, squeezing his fingers, pressing the call button with her other hand.
"'K," Charlie murmured. He felt like crap.
Even more like crap than when Billy and Sam had come.
The contents of that conversation came flying back to him, and the alarm on his heart monitor began to beep.
"Hey," she said, "I'm here. Just try to relax, OK?"
"Those are claw marks," he said gruffly, looking at her arm, and then her legs. He brought his eyes back up to meet his. "And Alice knew." The beeping on the monitor was getting faster. "And so did you."
"Yes," she said, glancing at Edward, hoping her acknowledgement would calm Charlie down.
It did, and when the nurse stepped in quietly, she didn't interrupt their conversation, but politely nodded, murmuring to Charlie, taking his vital readings.
When the door clicked shut again, Charlie rounded back on Bella, and then Edward. "What happened to Jacob?"
Bella's face folded around the edges, uncertainty, worry and fear for her father all melding together with concern for keeping the Cullen's secret safe.
Her secret safe.
If the Volturi found out he knew…
"He's dead, Charlie," Edward said softly.
"How?"
Edward stared at him, letting just enough of his human facade to slip away in the curl of his lip, as he growled out, "at my hands." Then, just as subtlety, he let his face resume its expected form.
Charlie looked at Bella, and then Edward, and swallowed. He was more white than grey now.
"There are some questions better not asked," Edward said, standing up from his leaning position, moving too gracefully towards one of the machines that was not properly calibrated. He tapped at the casing, and then, with a speed and knowledge his human, teenage self could not possibly possess, adjusted the settings.
It was Bella's turn to stare at Edward. Had he just—? Yes, the little voice in her mind said, he had.
"Did you," Charlie started, looking at Edward, and then Bella, "did you know?" It was whispered out.
She nodded.
"What is, what are—?"
"No," Edward said. "Some questions are not safe." He locked his eyes on Charlie again. "Do you trust me, and my family, with Bella?"
There was now delay in the reply. "Yes."
"Good. Then don't ask. We'll tell you what you need to know."
Charlie sucked on his lower lip, clearly considering whether to abide by this, or push further.
"Bella?" Charlie asked. "You got a say in this?"
She blew out a shaky breath. "I love you, Dad. And I love Edward. Everyone is OK. Let's just...keep it that way."
"And me asking questions will not make things OK?"
"Very much," Edward said.
The conversation was interrupted by a warning rap at the door. An small assortment of doctors came in, one Bella recognized as Charlie's, and several more behind him who looked young and weary.
Edward and Bella were pushed aside by this crowd of people, Charlie becoming the focus of much more unwanted attention. As he answered questions, and suffered their prodding touches, his eyes stayed on Bella, watching her reactions, gauging her facial expressions.
It was exhausting, and he was trembling by the time the doctors left again, en masse. He held on tenaciously to his wakefulness.
"Are you safe?" he asked her.
"Yes."
He nodded. His eyes were drooping. Then they were simply closed, and Bella squeezed her hand into Edward's, all the worry plain and open on her face.
"It'll be alright, Bella."
"Will it?" she asked. "He won't let go of this, Edward."
"He won't, no," Edward admitted, "but he won't ask questions, not out loud anyway."
"The Volturi—"
"Will not be a danger to him," he said, now taking both her hands. "I promise."
She leaned her head into his chest. "You can't know that."
"He doesn't know what we are, Bella. He knows what the wolves are. He only suspects we are something different."
She pulled back, looking up at him quizzically. "Could you hear?" She knew that Charlie's thoughts were largely muted to Edward.
"Enough," he said, stroking her hair back behind her ear.
She yawned, snatching a hand back to stifle it.
"You should sleep," he said, "it's late."
She shook her head, looking at Charlie.
"He's OK," Edward assured her, "and I'll wake you up if anything happens." His fingers fluttered over her ribs. "You're still recovering."
There was a chair that extended into something bedlike, and kissing her, he pulled it out, setting a pillow and blanket on it for her.
When she finally slept, Edward opened up his phone and called Alice, murmuring quietly with her.
Bella slept through the whole night, as did Charlie, and when she began to wake, he let his fingers play through her hair.
"Morning, love," he whispered. "Your Dad's still sleeping."
"Good," she yawned, stretching.
He waited to see her wince. In their rush, they'd not brought anything for an overnight stay, and she was long overdue for her pain medication. Her stretch was painless, though, and he cocked his head, listening, wondering if he'd missed something.
"You OK?" he asked, knowing where she'd slept couldn't have been all that comfortable.
"Fine, actually," she said, standing, rotating her back, hands at her hips.
He put out a hand to her shoulder. "Wait," he said, "your ribs haven't fully healed."
"They feel fine," she murmured, stopping.
He was running his fingers over them, looking for the remembered feel of the fissures there, but he couldn't find them. His frown deepened in confusion.
"Your ribs are healed," he murmured. He sounded almost disappointed to Bella.
"Seems to me that's a good thing," Bella said, raising her eyebrows at him.
"It is," Edward said, forehead squished together. "It's just—I've never seen ribs heal so quickly."
Both Bella's eyebrows went up. "It felt long enough to me."
"Sorry, I know, I'm just—"
"Worried that I feel better?" Her voice sat somewhere between incredulity, and humour.
"No," he smiled, chuckling, "just surprised."
She slid her hands to his waist, whispering into his lips, "maybe your immortality is rubbing off on me."
Charlie made a sort of huffing grunt, shifting in the bed, effectively interrupting this almost kiss.
"Dad?" Bella asked softly, turning away from Edward.
"Hey," he murmured, seeing her there, then frowning at Edward.
Coming forward, Edward said to Bella, "I'm going to go get you something to eat, OK? I'll be right back."
"OK," she murmured, squeezing his hand.
She didn't see him pull out his phone as he left, calling Carlisle as he went.
It didn't escape Charlie's notice, that this was the first time Edward had left Bella alone with him.
"How are things with you two?" Charlie asked, not sitting up, but laying back against the pillow. Talking felt exhausting.
"Really good. Normal, even." She smiled. "Classes start in a few weeks. I'm kinda excited, and nervous too."
Charlie's smile was small, but genuine. The thought of her going off to college still seemed surreal.
As did the idea of her being married.
And the reason for it.
"I'm so sorry, Bella, for what I put you through."
"Oh, Dad, don't start with it again. You've already apologized, and I've already accepted it."
"I know, but...it seemed worth repeating, knowing that things are...weird."
She snorted out a laugh. "Yeah, weird. That about sums it up, hey?"
He smiled, squeezing her hand, paling more. "You OK with that level of weird?"
"I am, very."
"Then I'm OK with it too."
She could see Charlie was tiring again, and his breathing was laboured. She pressed the call button, murmuring softly to him, asking him to just rest, and not talk.
The nurse only had to take one look at him before bringing out the oxygen cannula, Edward slipping into the room as she paged Charlie's doctor.
"I think it might be best, if he could rest right now," she said to Bella.
Charlie nodded, waving Bella away with his hands. "Go home," he hushed out. "I'll be fine."
She didn't believe it for a moment, and both Charlie and Edward could see it.
"Can we see about having you moved closer to home?" Edward asked him. "Then Bella could see you more frequently, for shorter visits."
Charlie nodded, eyes closing, slipping into an unwilling, and exhausted sleep.
Outside the room, Bella paused, shaky hands on Edward's chest. "Is he well enough, to be moved?"
"By ambulance, yes," Edward said. "He will get better, Bella, but he needs to rest. That's all. Shorter, and more frequent visits will help."
"OK," she breathed out.
He made her eat before they got back into the car, worried now far more for her, than he wanted to admit, and eager to get her home to Carlisle.
