Chapter 26 Five Little Speckled Frogs

A/N: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, but the characters wound together here, in precisely this way, are mine.

My mother-in-law's continual creativity sparked the format for this chapter – many thanks to her for the constant support and an endlessly attentive ear.

Girls and Boys Come Out to Play has been nominated in four Indie Award Categories: Best Alternate Universe Human WIP, Best Characterizations (Non ExB) WIP, Best Secondary Story Line WIP, Most Romantic Moment WIP. I hope you'll cast your votes beginning July 9th (linked on the profile)!!

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We won't say our goodbyes

You know it's better that way

We won't break, we won't die

It's just a moment of change

-All We Are by One Republic

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APOV

I was cognizant enough to feel the pressure of the flickering darkness that encapsulated whatever was left of me.

And that was all.

Where I was, what remained, how I wound up so incomplete was a mystery - one my curdled mind refused to sort out as it mucked along the dank reaches of empty space.

Through the infinity that stretched in every direction, beyond where I was certain I existed in some form, I could suddenly just make out what looked like my own hand extended much too far away to actually be connected to me. I couldn't even register if my eyes were open yet somehow I was seeing this pseudo-Alice hand moving briskly between visibility and mirage. However, from what was present I was certain. It's definitely mine. Back and forth, assured, determined, those childlike fingers were doing … something.

If I can see that hand, my mind sloshed along, perhaps my other senses are also functioning at some capacity. Without any tangible body's limbs and ligaments to flex, touch seemed unlikely. Though exhausted and sluggish, I drew on everything I felt I did have access to with the soul purpose of initiating a basic sniff. Even as I simply thought about smelling, however, rich blackberries and sterile hostility flooded my illegitimate existence. Wafting in with the somehow familiar scents came a murmur. Oh to hear right now would sooo be progress.

I had obtained a sight, inhaled a scent and interpreted the atmosphere of a world far outside my comprehension. If it were only possible to extend what little strength I possessed, training my absent ears towards this muted sound might prove positive.

So I trained. I trained with all my tiny might, one single wave at a time.

The frequency was high then low, often times overlapping. The more and more I pushed to understand, thankfully, the cleaner the noise became. As the murmur clarified into what I was certain had to be words - a strained human conversation - I was deliriously aware of the suspiciously careening hand swiping away in midair and the lovely berry smell, complemented by a floral vanilla, traveling nearer.

Outside my dark abyss someone was hovering over me, and even as my external view betrayed me I knew without a doubt that person was Rose. She was everywhere and nowhere. The height, fragrance, and intonation – she was unmistakable.

"It's … two days … -ward. As I've said … stop … things worse. No … go find … -la." Yes – sigh - Rosalie. I felt slightly less alone, but all the more bewildered by the indefinable circumstances that had landed me in such a disconnected state.

"She won't let …" What I believed to be Edward's voice was low and broken, easily tangling with the hum of machines and the subsequent white noise impeding a world I wasn't actually apart of.

Though it seemed like I should feel her hands moving over me, as Rosalie's breathing strained and she continued on in a reprimanding tone, I couldn't. "Make her. She'll be here … minutes."

Their tired, sluggish exchange made it easier to process the syllables, but the variable meanings of the partially discernible conversation left me reeling. Two days since what? Until what? Which things were worse? Who needed to be found and was that someone arriving soon?

Most importantly, though, was the naggingly obvious: Where the hell am I and why doesn't my voice or body work? I wasn't even sure this wasn't some sick manifestation of my own subconscious. Maybe I'm dead.

"I just … her to wake … She's so small and helpl- … -uck Rosalie … made such a mess."

"… blah mess blah … just … go." A slam followed Edward's swishing departure and Rose's final comment was spoken in my direction. "Whiney bastard."

The accuracy of my understanding indicated the increased sensitivity I was finally experiencing. Each sense I still had control over was heightened – offset by the functions I lacked - and helped overcome the fog of my thoughts. Though my mind still felt stuck in slow motion it pressed forward, attempting desperately to process each noise it encountered. My surroundings were beginning to take form.

Spatially I knew we were enclosed, my best friend and I. When Edward had opened the door - accessing his retreat - congested clatter, voices and the natural sounds of the living and active had flooded in. Out there was much fuller and busy than in here.

"He's such an ass, Ali. I don't know how the fuck you put up with his prima donna eccentricities; I really, honestly don't." She chuckled over something deeply deprecating, but not towards Edward. "Damn. I wonder what people must say about us." I knew right away the "us" she was referring to was our friendship, hers and mine. The unlikelihood of it. The perplexity our duo must cause from the outside; the bits of nothingness that mattered little compared to the fact that she was the female friend I'd been waiting a lifetime to find.

"Have you ever had long hair? I don't think you should grow it out or anything, you'd get tons of paint in it, it's just … you're going to hate trying to cover all this up with nothing but pixie length hair - Oh, well shit, I know. We'll do a Neiman raid - you can get your much overdue NYC fix – and buy out all their scarves and attractive hats. And I do mean attractive here, not creative! You'll look fuckhot in a simple beret. Maybe grey; match your eyes."

I wished with everything I had within me that I could feel whether or not Rosalie was twirling my hair as she prattled on about our usual business. She was emanating nervous tension and I longed to calm her, explain what was happening in my head – that I actually was here with her - but for now I'd have to be thankful she was finally discernible in word and thought.

"Speaking of, Emmett had on the most mouthwatering charcoal sweater today. You know, one of those 'I'm a tight ass bit of strategically stretched fabric masquerading as winter apparel' kind of panty clenching situations. I almost ripped it to shreds and mounted him mid-walk to English. But I came here instead. I'm guessing that makes me your most sacrificial friend of Life." Her pause was obviously for her; I wasn't going anywhere. "I really love him Alice, and I know this could be construed as shitty by anyone listening in who has any idea of what – well, if they knew what Jasper did to you, but you're all bandaged and freaky looking and I'm scared and I just need you, Ali.

I love him. It's so obvious to me. We're supposed to be together. And dammit, not just today or tomorrow, but for a hell of a long time. How could I possibly know this though? So intrinsically? I'm seventeen today, which mean only sixteen yesterday. That's hella young. It's not even halfway through junior year - subsequently my last year - of high school. I have daddy issues. And brother issues. Well … men issues. And I'm completely in love for the first time and think it's my future. How fucking ridiculous do I seriously sound? I can't believe it. I'm that girl."

I felt my body shift impossibly, bending my invisible spine and sinking what would be my lower half deeper into something soft. I could imagine my feet suspended in front of me, supported by the same cushiony landing my entire body was propped on. But most striking were the dull rivets of warm I felt to my right. If I were to guess - and hope - I'd say Rose was now supporting her weight beside me as she touching up and down my arm, soothing me to, in turn, sooth herself.

"Don't let me be like that. Tell me we're different; that, because of my shitty past, I don't apply to the same laws of teenage girl 'nether lovin' equals forever' mentality." And then there was a heavier pressure on that same hopeful arm.

"Please wake up," she continued in a muffled plea ending with a tense laugh. "I bet when you do the only thing you're going to remember is missing an opportunity to throw our birthday party."

Rosalie was unsure, hurting, overwhelmed and I was stuck. The fury I felt at not being able to reassure her and tell her she wasn't an idiot savant when it came to men just because her father and brother had been douches, that just sexin' wouldn't send her a-love spiraling, was indescribable. Emmett was the real deal. Hell, if they weren't meant to be together long term no one was.

As I attempted to push away the rage my incapacity was causing, I focused instead on the only thing assuredly seen – that random hand swiping away before me. Its' movements hadn't ceased. I wondered about the purpose behind this floating instrument – it obviously means something – but what it was actually doing as it blearily moved back and forth before me was also still mystifying. There was just no way to know what crazy concoction my mind was capable of creating at a time like this.

The door to the observation deck of my own personal cave opened slowly, and mingling with the onrush of sounds came a hallow voice; "Hey."

"Hi. Did you manage to dodge Edward?" Rosalie's muffled voice and touching ceased as she relaxed away from our one-sided embrace to engage in actual interaction. It's been ten minutes and I'm already bitter. Great.

"I didn't see him in the hallway." Bella sounded exhausted.

"Did you climb the stairs again, B? It's like seven stories. Is avoidance really worth fourteen fights of stairs? And all your hair sticking to your forehead and neck sweat - eck."

"What ever do you mean? I'm only thinking of my health. Exercise and all that." A chair scraped shrilly against the hard floor and Bella's flippancy blew out of her in a strained huff as her weight registered in the seat's joints. "I'm just not ready to talk. Apologies, back tracking, emotional instability issues coming to the surface - all that just isn't equivalent to a party."

"Ha," Rose countered distractedly as she fiddled with what sounded like colliding glass.

"Well, maybe for me it is pretty equivalent, actually. I'll find him when it's time." I strained to remember seeing Bella at a party, not enjoying herself fully. The idea was preposterous to me, but despite my dedicated searching I couldn't recall any parties. I knew they were something I enjoyed - Rosalie's motivation behind her previous comment affirmed that - but I had no memory of circumstances. As I raked my mind for specific memories, all I found fully were the cemented truths of what and whom I loved. The people whose voices I'd heard, and those yet to appear, I remembered them, their beings. No actions seemed to influence these emotions. My love for the precious people in my life was based solely on who they were. And who we were together. A unit. Family. Couples. Individuals.

Us.

Therefore, Rosalie's treatment and aggravation towards Edward was something I couldn't fully understand, as was Bella's attempts to avoid him. I had no 'why' context here in this blasted hole.

While the girls' voices continued to bounce around me, trekking back and forth over lighthearted topics, I was left with no way to contribute. Not being heard or able to communicate in anyway was truly maddening.

The glass Rose had been handling ended up being toenail polish bottles, and together the two of them were proceeding to beautify me, confirming that I indeed had a body. I was physically present and not just cosmically overhearing Rosalie's personal confessions dictated to a dead friend. Thank god.

"I like the teal," Bella sedately chorused from her new position at my feet.

"Do a top coat over these rhinestones," Rosalie coached.

I may have been hearing their voices, but instead of comprehending the words I chose to focus on their direction of origin. Directly in front of me - right where the girls were perched in my foot-space - was that mid-air hand. With this renewal of my attention, I was now sure it was drawing. The blurry, soft leaded pencil it held crafted delicate strokes; a mysterious image long and almost translucent was the product. Seemingly, just like my current situation, the obscure sketch held no context for me.

"You know she's going to kill you for blinging out her toes."

"No, Ms. I Hate New Things, you forget – that's you." Ha, that reaction certainly would be Bella's. Quaint, simple, vintage Bella.

"Oh, right, right. How could I forget?" Bella's rhetorical question was lost on me as my clouded mind spun me in yet another direction and I was suddenly awash in my own resurfacing tangent. I wonder why she's avoiding him? She loves Edward – they love each other. What would make her run from that?

"And I wish she would wake up to kill me. For the toes, for letting you and Jasper leave, whatever. She'd at least be awake." Rosalie spoke softly, a cohesion of hostile and worry steaming behind each word. I was lost again though, this time because of their words. Where did Jasper and Bella go? If Bella's here is Jas back yet?

"Please stop blaming yourself, Rosalie. We both know why Jasper left." Contrastingly, Bella's comments rang out, cutting through the tension Rose had radiated since the moment I first registered my existence.

"Yes, we do. Poor Bella was in trouble." There's my snark and sass. Rose seemed to shake loose from her momentary downward spiral at the wide-open opportunity to chaff with Bella. I also had another clue for the puzzle that was their apparent disappearance – Bella had needed Jasper's help.

"God." Or maybe she hadn't? Her response certainly didn't seem affirming. Gah, not being able to see their facial expressions left too many possible interpretations.

"The real question is: Why did you leave?" Yes, yes, why did you leave, Bella? Why did you take Jasper away? My instincts told me everything correlated - their leaving, all the discord, my condition – it all had the same root cause. Unless they detailed it out for me, though, I'd never know. If I could only fucking ask!!

"Because I'm an idiot. A scared, spineless, untrusting, inexperienced girl." It hurt me deeply to hear Bella describe herself this way, because though I didn't know the things we did together or the details of the day-to-day life we lived I knew those adjectives easily described all six of us to a degree. She had basically just described humanity as a whole but singled herself out as the only perpetrator.

"Hmmm. So …" Rose's pause gave me just enough time to be conflicted over her pushing for answers and respecting Bella's privacy. Without a voice I couldn't form the needed questions, but with only my mind left for the thoughts to ricochet around in until I could snap out of this, I'd be stuck with the details and no way to help. "Come on, that's not fucking it, Bella, and you know it. What's the bottom line?" Pushing it is. I'd been leaning that way anyway … Hello, I'm still Alice!

"The bottom line is Edward and I had sex." Oh my god. This was the second time my brain had absorbed that information - somehow I was sure of this fact - yet it didn't make the impact any less intense. Bella broke her rules. Somewhere in my memories I could hear a warning Jasper had once given about Bella and the sanctity of her rules.

"I told you this would happen. I'm actually surprised he held out for so long." Don't be mean, Rose, not now. Do that sweet thing we've been practicing; she needs you.

"Me too, actually. Well, no … not surprised so much as I was thankful. He didn't push." He loves you. No one knew like I did how monumental Bella was in Edward's life. She made him. He was because of her.

"So, you experienced the ride on a Cullen's throne – nice, huh?" Gah. The outrage at having no eyes to convey understanding or arms to console with was horrendous. Rose had no tact; Bella was miserable. Fuck. Struggling this way - against nothing and everything together - was like being bound by a straight jacket. No worse, drugs. Yes, I felt immobilized by toxins. Something strong. That would explain the haziness.

"He told me he loved me." I wanted to gasp, because he'd actually found a way to tell her.

"When?" I longed to nod along in anticipation.

"During." …

"Fuck." If I didn't assume my jaw would be scraping the floor at this moment, I'd have reacted the same way.

"I said it back, " Bella finally whispered after Rosalie's reaction had resonated enough for us all. Wow.

"And you meant it, so you freaked out. 'Cause he's …. Edward Cullen." They said his name together, knowingly, and I stopped being upset for myself and absorbed the heavy hurt every shitty decision Edward had ever made that put him in this position. Edward may have come to love Bella, but he'd been someone else much longer. Untrustworthiness was Bella's own personal kryptonite. She couldn't trust him, not completely, and she'd never trusted herself either.

"I wish she'd wake up." The strength of my own desire for this was still present, of course, but as Rose voiced this I knew I was still too socked over Bella and Edward to invest fully.

"The doctor said if she would have just been hypoxic she'd have woken up by now, but with the brain swelling, well we just have to be patient." Wait …

"I don't do patient." … something happened to my head?

"I've noticed." I thought back to any indication made to how long I'd been this way but all I could come up with was Rose's reference to "two days." If that were the case, it didn't sound so bad. But still … brain swelling?

"Did you get all of the left side? Damn, that looks good. Fuck culinary school, B. You should totally paint nails for a living." Their rapid change of topics, coupled with my own split focus, left me reeling. Instead of keeping up I tried to organize internally as they squabbled out there.

"I wouldn't want to jack your dreams, Rose."

"Oooohhh, touché."

"Yep, don't forget how I play."

Have I really been like this for two days? If so, has Emmett been to see me? Jasper? Two freaking days … where the hell is Jasper?

"Hello. Visiting hours are almost over, and Ms. Brandon needs her rest," a new person and voice bellowed, bursting through my thoughts.

One of the girls snorted before Rosalie retorted, "She's in a coma; I'm guessing she's pretty well rested." Coma? Oh my god.

"You'd be surprised how much awareness comatose patience can have. And by rest, I mean silence and calm." I felt giddy to have an explanation and dizzy with concern.

"Okay, well, since we can't throw that wicked ragger in here like we planned, can you please make a note on Alice's chart, or something, that her toenails will be wet for about thirty more minutes and she'll need her tucked back in so her feet don't freeze off? But not before! We won't hesitate to rat you out if she wakes up and rampages over a smudged and goopy below the ankle mess … Nurse Colleen. Thanks."

"Bye, Alice." Bella's voice sounded forced and overly joyful before a pressure on my forehead indicated she'd sealed her farewell with a goodbye kiss.

"Night, Ali. Love you. Wake up soon or I'll kill you." Rosalie's lips smacked against her teeth right beside my ear as she whispered, and I imagined the smile that accompanied such a baseless threat. She was so worried, and now that I knew I was in a coma everything fell into place. My location, the reason for everyone's nerves being on edge, and I felt my worry rise. What if I'm stuck like this, aware but detached, forever? But mostly, I was now afraid of how any of this had even happened.

The girls' presence floated away, allowing me to barely catch their departing conversation.

"You're such a snob."

"Don't you love it?"

As the last vestiges of their energy drained from my single patient hospital room, I felt the emptiness abundantly. Despite the bustling nurse fluffing my pillow and scurrying about, I was very alone.

"Lovely friends you have Ms. Brandon." She continued adjusting me, where and for what I couldn't be sure. "There you go." The pressure of her hands and movements stopped and she quietly left me.

The haziness I'd fought my way through was seeping in again, the reigning victor over me - the somehow comatose girl. I continued to try and question this outcome. Was there an accident? If so, am I the only one hurt? It seemed unlikely Jasper and Emmett wouldn't come by like the others had. Were they injured as well? I felt sick as I struggled against what felt like sedation, but I had no answers and without them it would be better to not be able to hear myself think anyway. So, unfairly but mercifully, I sunk away from my metal turmoil and found the familiar blackness of the last two days I never knew I'd seen.

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My awareness had returned, but it wasn't like last time. Instead of forced clarity, I was unable to wrap my mind around anything more than the general. Still I pushed.

I saw the drawing continuing to unfold before me, off in the ever-near distance. It was still indiscernible; only a filmy, long, elegant design with the slightest hint of something peeking out from behind it could be made out.

The air was different, too. It was so cold.

And him. His presence was new. He smelled like warm and familiar boy.

And me. My body had shifted; the entire left side tingled as I assumed it was pressed flush against something … his.

My visitor's breathing was slow and the rhythm of his heart beat steadily. Feeling it calmed the immediate panic that swam over my senses, attempting to pick up where it had left off. So I listened to his breaths and beating heart.

Nothing else mattered. Nothing else could be done.

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"That's crazy, Emmett. You've lost your fucking mind."

Their conversation had been seeping in for a while, but now – finally - each word was actually attaching to the next, making whatever they were fighting about intelligible.

"I knew that would be your response. But just think for one second, man. If either of us had said you'd fall ass backwards in love with one girl, wait for-fucking-ever to bone her, all the while becoming some unrecognizable boyfriend who does shit like 'make love' and wait around in hospitals-"

Neither Emmett nor Edward was sitting very close to my bed, as far as I could tell from the projection of their voices. Each seemed relaxed enough, though, as they rowed – what England Edward would have called their arguing. Where did that come from?

"Right, but see how well everything turned out for me? Not to mention, these situations are incomparable." Edward's trademark exhale and hair rake was certainly in action as shock continued to emanate from him. "It's fucking ironic that you'd be the moron who officially blew my mind."

"Well, bro, we're even 'cause you scrambled my brains weeks ago."

"So, when?"

"I guess we'll see." I had no idea what they were talking about, and being so close to knowing was aggravating. I mean, they were in my damn hospital room; the least they could do was expound. Provide a coma girl with a little information if not entertainment.

"Have you talked to her yet?"

"She said she'd find me. She needs her space, Em." Okay, so we're on to Bella.

"But does she know you didn't jump, that Alice went first and you dove in after her. That shit's gotta mean something from what you've told me." He didn't jump with me. This all sounded so familiar, but pinning it all together into collective thought felt impossible. There was like a disconnect between my heart and mind's base functions and all the details that went into making sense of choices, purposes, of fully understanding were now superfluous.

"I think she knows, otherwise I doubt she would've communicated at all."

"True, true."

"And Jasper?"

"I hate him."

I did know hearing such strong words used against Jasper hurt me, especially coming from Edward, my forever guy. So maybe the disconnect I'd been experiencing really just weeded out the judgments, the irrelevant details which only dilute love and forgiveness.

"Dude-"

"No, dude, I get to hate that motherfucker. He left her. He started all of this. You saw Alice after he walked … don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about. She jumped because of him. "

All this talk about Jasper made me miss him. Like so many of these in between times, I wondered where he was.

"He's lower than fuck, Edward. We love Alice, I get that, but not the way he does. Imagine if this was Bella like I keep imagining if it had been Rosie's perfect head that struck a rock – don't say that doesn't break your fucking world apart. You don't have to cut him any slack, but really your hate only screws you – he's damning himself a thousand times over what your misdirected anger ever could. You're really pissed at yourself. Man the fuck up."

"I blame myself plenty, thanks. And what about Bella? His whole mess here fucked her up, too."

So, Jasper had left and I'd jumped alone; Edward chose to hang back because of Bella. In the course of the fall I struck my head, which is what obviously landed me in this coma. Everyone is basically blaming themselves, and I am stuck in limbo. I couldn't figure out if the ache in my head was literal or implied from the ridiculous mess we'd all found ourselves in. Physically, emotionally, mentally – we were in shambles.

"Stay out of that. You don't see me butting myself into the brother/sister/twin thing. We're new, Edward, don't you get it? This isn't a choice between each other. I'm pretty sure we do this thing together or we walk away alone." The honesty in Emmett's deduction struck me. The idea of any of us three girls not having our corresponding man left me without.

"Fuck, like that's even a choice, man," Edward forced out through a clenched jaw.

"I know, Ed. I know."

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I'd spent the time since Edward and Emmett left waiting for the darkness to return. After a doctor stopped by long enough to examine me - probably deducing my progress - and scribble some notes on my chart, I began to wonder if I was waiting on myself or the treatment to eventually release me from this backwards sleep. I was undoubtedly medicated, but I had no idea if that was what was inducing this coma or if my body had initiated this resting state to heal properly.

What I did know was the deafening black closed in after every nurse visit, and sometimes in between if I wasn't mindful enough to begin with. This uneducated deduction was tested further when my most recent nurse visits left my awareness in tact. In fact, I hadn't slipped away since before awakening to the boys at my bedside.

The warm bodied boy was beside me again, and I was most thankful my thoughts were present when he'd arrived. As I'd always known, it was Jasper's company that had calmed my fears endlessly as my mind flitted between knowing and absent.

He'd been here often, in between the others. But always alone. He never sat in a chair either. If he wasn't lying next to me, he was gone. And I loved him impossibly more for it. Even after finding out many of the reasons that landed me here were because of my reaction to him leaving, my love still grew. He may have chosen to leave, but I obviously chose to react. I jumped. I couldn't remember doing so, but I believed Edward. Though angry and vindictive, my bestie's words had been quite clear; "She jumped because of him."

If I'd learned anything during this dark existence – besides that the hovering-hand drawing had developed into a person, a woman peering out from behind a curtain of sorts – it was that we'd all collected our fair share of baggage. I'd listened, confined to silence - over what had to be days - to my five little darlings, all so positively fucked up in their own right. Speckled and marred, perfectly themselves, and mine. They were my collective - my hurting, broken brood.

As Jasper's grasp on me tightened I realized how defined the pressure had become. Instead of warmth and tingling, the sensation of his fingers softly clenching my forearm was quite distinct and the faint smattering of chest hair that peeked out of his v-necked white undershirt became hazily visible right before my very own eye slits. I was seeing him. I'm actually seeing Jasper.

Immediately I registered that my head felt ten million pounds heavier than the earth and my throat was raw making swallowing excruciatingly uncomfortable. From my noises or movement, Jasper realized I'd awoken.

"Ali? Angel … look at me." I felt my world rush forward, bringing with it everything the surreal place I'd left had kept from me. Hurt, confusion, judgment, bitterness … sorrow. And finally, desperation.

But he was here now; Jasper wasn't driving away from me.

He had, though. He'd run. He'd left. He was the leaving kind.

I didn't know what I knew any more. If I'd dreamed every word of the last few days to simply help my crushed brain fit the pieces of my accident back together, or if everyone truly had been so candid, I didn't truly care. Because reentry into this jaded world left me bare and emotional. And it didn't matter that it hurt, because it was my pain to own and in some twisted way this Alice believed I deserved to feel and revel in this despair.

As the cancer of being human spread, I couldn't call back the forgiveness and understanding I'd found resolution in whilst lounging in wonderland. I felt simply too weak, void of any tolerance or fight; so I succumbed.

"You left me," my thrashed throat croaked out.

Jasper's brow crumpled and words flew out in a sob; "Alice, I-"

"Son, you need to get off the bed. Son! Ms. Brandon needs an MRI immediately, please!" Suddenly, amidst machines beeping like crazy, my cramped bedside was swarming with scrubs and lab coats, many of which stretching out arms to remove Jasper from his unwavering embrace.

"Alice, I'll wait and be right here when you get done," he promised as his feet touched the ground.

I processed these words - his pledge to wait, to be here - and spoke before I could accept anything but the result of his breaking my heart.

"Don't."

I was in a hospital, waking from a coma because I fell in love with a boy who leaves. I didn't want to hear anymore of his words.

My bed was rushed away, out the door and down the hall before I knew what happened. And in some sick way I couldn't escape the feeling that I'd just done to him what he'd done to me – put someone else first.

Apparently, when it's my turn, I choose myself.

Alive and very much Alice, I calmly reveled in the fact that at least this time I was being chosen at all.

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A/N: A couple days ago I was complaining to my husband about my total update fail these last five chapters - I've seriously turned into the slowest writer of all time. (Maybe it's my perfectionist tendencies, maybe I'm intimidated by my own flipping scope, maybe, maybe, maybe.) Anyway, I was complaining and his response to my fail was "That's okay, you're busy living your real life." Gasp. Truthfully, his "misinformed husband to an obsessed Twilighter" response left me slightly insulted, because it isn't okay. And because I realize just how un-okay leaving you hanging for weeks on end is, you, the reader, deserve my apology. For taking a million years to wrap my head around each and every update, each and every character, I am so very sorry, but above all I'm sorry that I don't think it'll get much better for G&B. It is just too important to breeze through at this point; I care about what happens too extraordinarily. For not being the author I promised myself I'd be – the consistent kind – I'm sorry!

Thank you so much to everyone dedicated to seeing G&B through. Your patience seems endless to me and I promise not to take advantage of that as best I can! ~RAE