I'm not Stephenie Meyer

After dinner with Edward, things between us had shifted. We were friends, and I hadn't had a friend since Tanya died except for Jake. I made it through my second day of group and individual therapy, just counting down the hours until my three day period was up. I felt selfish for letting Edward get close to me, but I needed him.

I continued to panic about whether or not I would be released. Edward assured me that I would likely be going home, so long as I promised to come to group. He also told me he would be at group as an outpatient visitor, too, which made me feel better about it. We spent most of that second day just talking to each other, learning mundane facts. He told me about his siblings, and that his father worked at the hospital.

He told me the story about how he came about joining the military with his best friend, and I relished in the happy look on his face as he grew nostalgic about the shenanigans he and Mike used to get into. I wondered why I couldn't look back on the good times with Tanya in that way. Edward talked and talked, not being offended when I didn't have much to offer. I managed to tell him a little bit about my Dad, and how much he loved fishing.

As much as I enjoyed the time with him, he was putting me on edge throughout the day. Edward was on to me, and he knew there was something more about the day I jumped than just the anniversary of Tanya's death. He was too intuitive for his own good. He would subtly push me to tell him, and I would refuse until he conceded, telling me another funny story from his childhood or adolescent years.

He terrified me. A few times I almost cracked, I almost told him about Sam and what happened on the reservation, but I had no way to ensure his secrecy. If my Dad ever found out, it would destroy him.

Dinner went the same as the rest of the day, and before I knew it, we were all being called to bed. Before I turned to my room Edward stopped me, and looked at me like he had something to say. Instead, he sighed, and ever so gently lifted the back of his knuckles to a bruise that was still across my jaw. A flicker of emotion rushed across his face, and the entire interaction must have only been a few seconds even though I felt as if I had been lost in the feeling of his hand against my face for hours.

"Goodnight, Bella." He half smiled, but there was something sad behind it. I mumbled goodnight back to him, and in a matter of minutes I was asleep.

I was standing outside of the hospital, my prison, my home for a few days. Freedom was swallowing me whole in the best event of my life in the last year. I felt a chill rising up from behind me, and fear began to pulse its way through my veins. When I turned, I was met with the beautiful crooked smile and as quickly as the fear began, it dissipated. "We can start our lives now." His velvet voice rang out.

"We're free." I said. "We're better." I smiled up at him. He reached his large hand out to cup my face, and I basked in its warmth, a hand I could never be afraid of; Sworn to never harm me. "We make each other better, we make each other whole." He insisted, emerald eyes ablaze, and his signature grin prominent. I turned my face into his hand and inhaled his fresh scent.

I closed my eyes as I nuzzled into his touch. The feeling lasted a few wonderful moments, and then the touch changed. The smell went from Edward to stale cigarettes in a split second. The grip on my face became rough instead of gentle. When I opened my eyes, the hand that was before them was a russet color.

I dared to glance up, to see Sam standing before me. The fear quickly returned as I began to scream. "Help!" I shouted as the hand that I had imagined to be so comforting clamped over my mouth. "You will never be better!" Sam snarled at me. "You are mine! You are ruined!"I tried screaming again against his hand, just as a caught a glimpse of Edward over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed at me, he turned on his heel, and walked away.

I woke drenched in sweat with nurses surrounding me, syringes in hand. My breaths were coming in quick gasps and I was choking on what little air I could manage to get into my lungs. Tears stung my eyes. "She's having a panic attack, we need to get a doctor in here!" One of the nurses shouted as another one ran to the emergency phone. I tried to insist that I was okay, that it was just a nightmare, but all that I could get past my lips was a strangled cry.

"Everyone get back to your rooms!" Another nurse shouted, bringing my attention to the threshold of my small room. A crowd of other patients had gathered and of course, right at the front, was Edward. He looked anguished and torn. His beautiful face was contorted with concern, but I was too focused on trying to breathe to be embarrassed. I locked eyes with him and he mouthed the word "breathe" to me. I felt my pulse gradually slow down then pick right back up again, the shouting of nurses faded into the background.

He theatrically took slow breaths, gesturing his hands up and down over his chest as he inhaled and exhaled, coaxing me to follow his rhythm. I did my best to keep up. My breathing would manage to be in sync with his for a breath or two, and then the shaking of my body would take over and I would be right back to the excruciating quick intakes of air the put a blunt pain on my sternum.

The nurse was trying to shove him out the door, when his head snapped to the right, peering down the hallway. "Dad!" He shouted frantically, "Dad you have to help her! She can't breathe!" A handsome blonde man bounded around the corner and into my room. He had the same strong jawline and gentle expression as Edward. "Edward, go back to your room." He spoke calmly, I nodded at Edward once, silently giving him permission as best I could.

Edward hesitated for a few seconds before finally letting the petite nurse push him out of my line of sight. The blonde man turned his attention to me. "Bella, I'm Dr. Cullen, can you sit up for me?" He asked sweetly. I tried to comply, but I couldn't. My body was still shaking violently. Dr. Cullen whipped his head around to the nurse, "I think she may need to be sedated." He said to her, and I was suddenly compelled to find my voice.

"No." I insisted. "It was just a bad dream." I tried to convince everyone in the room, including myself. The last thing I needed was to be put back into sleep, where I was at his mercy yet again. Being awake was safer, of that I was sure.

"Bring her an Ativan." The doctor spoke again, compromising with my pleas. He turned his attention back to me, "You have to take something, Miss Swan. You're having a panic attack, this will relax you without knocking you out too harshly." He assured as the nurse handed him a pill. He pulled an unopened bottle of water out of his bag as he slipped the pill from his hand to mine.

I nodded in compliance, even though I didn't want the pill. I popped it into my mouth and downed about half of the small bottle, letting the cool liquid soothe my raw throat. "Thank you." I said meekly. He put his fingers to my wrist to check my pulse, and waited with me until the medicine kicked in.

I closed my eyes to blink, Dr. Cullen's hand still on my wrist, when I opened them up again there was light shining through the small window of my room. I took a deep breath before even attempting to move. My 72 hours was almost up, and I was entirely sure that I had ruined any chances I had of getting out on time.

I reluctantly got out of bed and felt like I'd been hit by a truck. Every part of me was sore from the attack, the jump, and now the nightmare. I was shaking so badly when I woke up that every muscle felt as if I'd overexerted myself in a workout from the tension.

I grabbed my clothes and walked up to the nurses station. "May I take a shower?" I asked sweetly. I was still covered in sweat and dried up tears.

"Of course, Bella." She smiled, and led me back to the bathroom with a shower in it. All showers had to be supervised. I let the hot water loosen up my muscles, the smell of the generic soap made me yearn to go home where I had my own possessions, my own smell. I wondered idly how Edward still managed to have his own scent.

Once I was sufficiently clean, I turned off the water and wrapped myself in a towel. I took my time getting dressed, still embarrassed by my episode in the middle of the night, and terrified that it would mean I couldn't go home.

The nurse led me back into the hallway when I was dressed, and I took a giant breath before making my way into the rec room where I knew everyone would be speculating on what happened. Slowly but surely I put one step in front of the other until I reached the end of the hallway, and when I did everybody stopped to stare at me.

A few people chuckled, I heard a boy say "she'll never get out of here now!" between laughs, Bree laughed loudly at his joke and put her hand on his upper thigh. Edward had mentioned that she had a bit of a reputation. His brazenness caught me off guard, and I wondered if he was right, if I ever really would get out.

Before I could panic too much, Edward led me away from him by my forearm gently, the look he shot the boy was absolutely deadly. The nameless boy backed down immediately, and suddenly his joke wasn't so funny to him or Bree.

"Don't look at him like that." I admonished, even though it was for my sake. I didn't like it when Edward looked intimidating.

"I should rip his head off!" Edward whispered loudly, momentarily tightening his grip on my forearm. I jumped back from him, his outburst shocking me. "Shit, I'm sorry." His expression immediately softened as he reached out for my hand.

"It's okay." I shrugged. "You can be so...intimidating sometimes. I'm just not used to it" I hesitantly let him take my hand in his, and I hoped that one day his touch would be as easy as it was in my dream, even if we were only friends.

"You have no reason to ever be afraid of me." He said sheepishly, I could tell by the expression on his face that he was chastising himself. "I have a bit of a temper, but I wouldn't lose it with you, or any woman for that matter. Definitely not you, never you." He said with exasperation as he pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes for a moment. He peeked up at me and just like the night before, he gently touched my face.

"You look so tired." He said sadly.

"I didn't get much sleep last night." I attempted a lame joke, which he didn't find funny.

"What happened to you?" He asked.

"I'm not sure, your dad said it was a panic attack, but I've had those before and this one was much was much worse. Maybe this one was just particularly b-" I said out in a rush before he cut me off.

"Not what happened last night!" He said roughly. "I know something happened to you, don't lie to me, Bella. I'm a veteran do you think I don't know a night terror from post traumatic stress when I see one?!" Tears pricked my eyes and his expression immediately returned to normal.

"I can't tell you, I'm sorry." I said lamely. All the fight had left my system, I was tempted to just scream it out loud, and let him do with that information what he will.

"Did someone do something to you?" He asked incredulously. He returned his hand to mine.

I was half annoyed and half relieved that he could see right through me. Yet still, I couldn't trust Edward with my secret. "I can't talk about it, Edward. No one can know this." I shrugged.

"I would never tell a soul, I swear." He said passionately. His eyes were pleading with mine to let him in, but it still didn't seem like a good idea.

"Let's get out of here first. I'll tell you someday, okay?" I compromised hoping to placate him.

"Promise me." He said sternly.

"I promise." I held out my pinky to him, and he halfheartedly took it. I wasn't sure if I actually did promise but I needed him to stop asking, it hurt too much.

Edward peered over my shoulder and I noticed that Dr. Cope was nodding toward us. Edward swiftly wrote his phone number on a napkin with a crayon, the only writing utensil we were allowed, and handed it to me. "When you're out, I'm out. We're in this together." He winked, and my heart melted a little bit.

"Bella." Dr. Cope smiled. "Let's get you ready for discharge, your dad is on his way. I want to have a discussion with you about what we expect from our outpatient program." She said kindly, and I could hardly contain my excitement.

"I get to go?" I asked giddily. For a few brief moments I was able to just be excited about something. My own bed, my own soap, my own cooking, my home.

"Your 72 hours is up, and we don't think you are an immediate harm to yourself and others." She said, obviously not happy with the narrowness of the rules. I didn't really care what Dr. Cope thought of the rules in that moment, because I was going home with my Dad.

Dr. Cope went back over the expectations. I was prescribed anti-anxiety medication, one for every day use, and one for emergency use in case I'm particularly panicked. Her words rolled over me, and I did my best to smile and nod in all the right places.

After about five minutes of her rattling off instructions, I was led to the front where my Dad was waiting with a sad smile. Immediately he wrapped me in his arms and I melted into him.

"I'm so sorry, Dad." I whispered, willing my tears not to fall.

"Don't ever scare me like that again, baby girl." He huffed. "Let's go to the diner and have a feast. Appetizer, entree, and dessert. We're gonna get some meat on those bones." He said through a chuckle, masking his despair.

Dr. Cope cleared her throat behind us. "Charlie, I've already gone through everything with you, Bella is expected at group tomorrow and we will have an individual session the day after that." She said adamantly.

"It won't be a problem." Dad nods at her, acting like he does as Chief Swan.

My elation subsides as soon as we get to the car, and awkwardness swims around my dad and me. He and I had always been okay with comfortable silence. Usually, however, there wasn't an elephant in the room. I knew that something needed to be said, but I didn't know what that something was. It was evident to me, that neither did my Dad.

"So.." He trailed off, still unsure of what to say "are you feeling...better?" I knew what he was asking, but he was trying to be gentle.

"I'm okay Dad." I lied, but I was doing better, and that's what he asked.

"Jake and Billy came to the house yesterday to bring back your truck." He sighed. "Jake said Sam has been asking about you a lot." my heart dropped as he said those words. I clenched my fists as he surveyed my reaction.

"Don't bring up Sam to me ever again!" I shouted. "If he comes to the house, send him away. If he calls, say I'm not there." I was breathing shakily.

"Alright, alright." He conceded. "You know I never liked that boy, I can't tell you how many times I had to throw his sorry ass in the drunk tank. I just gotta ask, honey, did he do something to you? Cheat on ya'?" I was a shit liar, but I had grown accustomed to avoiding answering questions directly.

"Don't worry about it, we're done, just...keep him away from me. I know you always wanted to sit on the porch and clean your gun in front of boyfriends...well, now is your time to shine." I said through frustration. I wanted to tell my dad what happened. I wanted his comfort, and in a lawless world, I wanted him to go shoot Sam in the head. Tears welled up in my eyes.

"Dad, can we just take our things to go." I asked him, not wanting to have a breakdown in the restaurant. Forks was never safe from gossip for too long, and I was sure at least half of the people in the restaurant would have heard about my stint in the loony bin.

"Bella, don't cry." He begged. I could probably count on one hand how many times my dad had seen me cry, and he never, ever handled it well. He took a deep breath and rubbed his hand over his face. "We'll get the food to go, and we'll wait in the car. Whatever you want, just don't cry. I'm sorry I wasn't thinking, I just wanted to do something normal I'm just so glad you're alive and we just don't spend enough time together and I can't stand the thought that maybe you did it because you don't realize how much.." he swallowed thickly. "How much I love you, Bella. You're the only family I got, and I would be lost without you. You're all I've ever needed in this world." He finished.

My tears fell again, I could also count on one hand how many times he had actually told me he loved me, even though it was always known. "I'm sorry, Dad. I promise, I won't do it again. I just...I'm going through a particularly hard time right now." I didn't know what to say. "It was a rash, stupid decision." I admitted to both of us.

He put his hand over mine, a rare but welcome fatherly gesture as we pulled into the parking lot. "How about I get us a sampler, a couple burgers, and some pie?" He changed the subject more gracefully that he was usually able.

I nodded and half smiled. He swiftly ran into the restaurant, and I grew fidgety in the car alone, looking over my shoulder. I breathed in through my nose and out my mouth. I shut my eyes and pictured Edward standing in the doorway gesturing for me to breathe normally. The way he gestured over his chest made me want to lay on it, it looked warm, and safe.

Charlie opening the car door broke me out of my daydream. "They'll bring it out to us in a few moments." He spoke, awkwardness taking over again.

"Dad, do you have my phone?" I asked, remember the napkin in my pocket.

"Uhh, yeah, it's in the glove box." He gestured toward it with a nod. He was obviously curious about why I needed it, and I wasn't about to tell him.

I pulled it out and turned it on, it had about half of a battery. I saved Edward to my contacts list before sending a text.

Hey, it's Bella. I thought you should have my number, too. Did you make it out alive?

I was nervous after sending the text, unsure if he was serious about leaving when I did. I hadn't known Edward very long, and trust didn't come easily to me. Just as I was about to feel like a total idiot for even reaching out to him and not playing it cool against my better instincts, the indicator light on the top of my phone lit up.

I did. Left right after you did. Couldn't stand the thought of dinner without you. At least I'll see you tomorrow.

E

I was thankful for the playfulness in his text, and it made me feel better for the moment. I decided not to text him back until I was done having dinner with my dad. I knew my dad could tell something was up, and I knew I would have to channel all of my energy into keeping it from him.

AN: Sorry that took so long to get out, College life is a lot busier than high school life so I likely won't get the chapters out as quickly as I did with my other fics. Also, if you want to listen to the song that inspired this fic, it's, unsurprisingly, called "Dismantle, Repair" by Anberlin. Please review. I don't hold chapters for ransom, but reviews do motivate me, I gotta say.

Aces.