I set him on a bed somewhere upstairs inside the Cullen house and remained there ever since close by his side. I would stay with him until he reawakened I told myself the hour I regained my urge for blood. It had been close to a day since my last drink, but nothing-not even the desire for blood-could endorse me from leaving his side. It was too much of a risk, both because at any second he could die either from the bite or horrifically the Volturi. I tried extensively not to think about them, but in my gut I was worried inaudibly about if and when they would appear. They were all probably on my trail (if they could find one) and trying to recruit me again for some chaotic mission. If Samuel lived, I would then be back to where I was before and living on the edge of having deja vu. However if he didn't make it. . .Which I often tried not to think hard on-at least then I could never be forced to work under their control ever again.

I didn't want either to happen despite Samuel living. Even if he were, God forbid, to die and I was free from ever doing whatever the Volturi ordered on his account, I would never be the same again-hell, I don't even think I'd live long enough to know what that was even seemed like. . .

I waited there I don't know how long watching several of the Cullens, but mainly the doctor one, examine Samuel. He looked at him closesly up front taking his temperature and studying especially the fresh wound on his neck. I had no idea what he planned on doing-if he had a plan at all-but trusted him no matter what happened. Not to mention, it wasn't like I had any other choice.

It was better he stood a chance around these vegan bloodsuckers than in the middle of nowhere with no hope at all, much less the tombs of the Volturi where everything was much worse. No, he was in the best place he could be right now. Even if the doctor treating him was a vampire and they all hated me. On the bright side, though, he and I were dealing with 'considerate' vampires who, as I learned, wouldn't place any bad judgment him just for knowing me.

More minutes passed and I was still uncertain what it was Dr. Cullen was doing. He had Samuel plugged into tubes with a variety of hospital equipment revealing his heart status and so on. From the machine it was beating outrageously fast, but Jasper let me know it was just because of he was a werewolf and the fact that the bite was also causing his heart to pump faster. (not that I would've assumed was any surprising comparing that to a human) But, it was still uncertain if he was going to make it or not. There was a half and half chance considering his body still surfacing in survival mode. I'm surprised he was still able to manage such strength on account of the brutal torture those monsters put him through. It was a miracle one might say, yet the true fluke of nature still had yet to come forth.

That said, a true miracle stood slim through my eyes as I watched the werewolf cry out in pain. A torn expression upon his pale, but normally tan, face I was driven to rush over to him and hold his hand all the way through if it wasn't for the others surrounding us. Dr. Cullen continued to diagnose him with shots and follow along the other (what seemed like) endless procedures during this murderous moment. I was stricken every second I had to see him like this. I couldn't resist for if I turned away for even the slightest second he could fall far from our world.

"Esme," Dr. Cullen called authoritatively, "Go downstairs and grab some food from the kitchen. He needs strength to fight this."

"Right away," the tall, slim young woman nodded, then leaving in a flash for over a minute. She came back with a basket full of meat, loaves of bread, and soup. It was quite a substantial amount compared to what a human I'm sure could consume, but then again perhaps that was just the portion he needed after suffering through a meager supply of food for so long. I had no idea if the Volturi even considered feeding him back in Italy, but knowing them, there was no question about it.

"If it helps, Esme," the doctor said to his wife helpfully, "maybe, perhaps, Miss. Elizabeth should try feeding him." He gestured her to me as it seemed she was having some difficulty transporting the fuel into his mouth. I had just caught on to what was happening and absentmindedly stood up and left both Jasper and my seat to approach closer to the werewolf and pair of deadly vampires. I gathered the basket of nutritious food, but collected the bowl of soup first in hopes that it would be easy enough to swallow. For some reason deep inside my memory I could feel a connection with this type of food from my past-that is the human one of course. Long and many winters ago it seemed this was the very substance I always consumed when lets say under the weather. I could only hope this would do wonders for Samuel.

His face was sweating miserably as I stepped forward and knelt next to him beside the bed. His eyelids were vaguely cracked open for me to capture his once deadly then determined black eyes. At the moment, however, with as little much as I could see I could only now see a glint of failure in his eyes.

"Drink this," I murmured as softly as I could under enough volume the others were surely not able to follow. I drew the warm bowl closer to his mouth with a spoon at hand. With one hand balancing the bowl and the other scooping a spoonful of porridge from inside, I gave it a shot trying to feed him. This may have caused a shock to others, I suppose, if you count the Volturi as an example. They and others I'm sure would've been horrified at the sight of my kind treating this other in this sort of way. I myself, if not in the position I was in, would also no doubt fuss about it. But, event and time changes people, and that includes vampires as a matter of fact. No more to say.

He reluctantly sucked in the warm liquid with a lot more effort than I thought with someone as weak as he was. The vibrant food source was easy to take down and swallow without much trouble and chewing like the French bread Esme, she remembered, was trying slowly to stuff in his mouth. All he needed was something softer and lighter to digest and the soup was just the thing. Gosh, she felt good about herself. Despite all the chaos that had gone on in the last days and weeks, this was the one time I actually felt a slight warmth of goodness sprouting through my chest. The feeling was unfamiliar to me, but it was one I was gladly more than happy to enjoy while it still lasted.

"There," I said gently to him, when he had finally finished the soup bowl. He had taken it quite slowly, but that didn't change anything with what the doctor was doing whether checking the wound further more or injecting him with more shots. None the less, I hadn't minded at all feeding him by hand. And quite honestly, I quite enjoyed it. It made me feel like I was doing more than simply nothing and was actually taking part in helping him recover. Werewolves need food, right?

Speaking of food. . .

I shook my head. "Are you able enough to chew some bread now?" I asked softly, holding up diminutively torn up pieces of bread. His eyes, now less dead and empty, observed the substance and nodded. I was assured quite yet if he was able to speak and in my mind I was certain that I didn't want to know. So I fed him more. The bread, surely, would've risen his strength up a little, especially with him going through two loaves in a matter of minutes.

In fact, it was starting to show. He had stopped sweating so tremendously and appeared now as lively as he did the last time I saw him before her trip to Washington. His eyes grew wider and revealed a satisfied pair of eyes when he gazed at me. I didn't realize either until he started to sit up more that my hand had been engulfed into his jet black, dirty hair.

What amazed her even more was when he spoke. "Can you pass me the meat?" His gaze from her moved down to the basket of thickly sliced chunks of grilled meat.

"Oh, of course!" I nearly yelped, lifting the ceramic plate that the meat sat on onto his lap. When it looked like he was just going to dig in right then and there I asked, "Would you like a knife and fork?" Something told me then that maybe that was unnecessary.

He, on the other hand, responded differently. "Oh." he looked down, seeming obviously moved and perhaps embarrassed. "Yes. Yes, please." It was than as I passed him the utensils that I took into his account the way he replied. Such manners and politeness. It didn't sound anything like the monster he was born to be, more than less the beasts I witnessed many times in battle with the guards of the Volturi and the time before.

Despite all that, I was more than happy to see this creature back to normal somewhat and eating an exceptional meal. If there was anything I wanted to see in this infinite lifetime of cruelty, it would be to see him, Samuel, eating for once a healthy and nutritious meal right before my eyes. Lord knows how long it's been since his separation from it.

I want to ask how he was feeling, but after realizing the doctor and the others around us I was convinced to save it for later, or simply leave it for the medical professor to ask. They usually asked the sorts of questions I believe. And how right I saw, when no more than a minute later, after confirming his temperature once more, did he ask genially how he was feeling.

"Better,"he responded after chewing down the rest of one flab of meat. Boy, when he ate he surely could eat a lot of it. And fast too. Already, I was starting to see the strength and normalcy start to appear. He was laying weak all over and on the verge of death any second now. It felt safe even for me to look the other way if I had to.

However, it was the firm grip of his eyes that held my gaze. It was completely dubious to my mind, therefore making it complicated and even more yearning for me to find out what it exactly was.

Then, it was until the doctor asked me then to move aside so that he could perform another test that I finally realized what it could be. "It's okay," I assured him warmly in a voice I found unrecognizable. My hand, that I found covering his, entangles his own for just a second when I then said, "All they want to do is help. They wont hurt you, I promise." My tone was as sincere as it could be as I lastly explained this bit of information. Picturing his position, he was probably scared to death to finally find himself in a room surrounded by his most bitter, evil enemies. However, his expression was still solid still, I couldn't afford any longer to stay. Whether I liked it or not, he could still be dying from the wound. It might not seem like it now, but I knew better than to take the chance. I listened obediently to the doctor and pushed away as he came through and returned to my seat next to Jasper. My brother hadn't moved an inch since the time that I had moved and it made me slightly wonder what was going along in his head as well.

When I sat down, he was still staring at me. I'll be right here, I mouthed to him. My face was serious and honest to the nearest extent. Perhaps, he thought since I was the only one he knew here he would ask me non-verbally for some sort of explanation or reassurance. After all, for all he knew these vampires were no better than the ones back in Italy. I couldn't blame him, but I couldn't let him now that he has slightly recovered to go berserk. That was the last thing I, and they, needed him to do.

For the next few minutes or so, the doctor, wife, Jasper, and I all watched over Samuel. What was left of the group all left for some fresh air, but I was pretty sure they were on their way out hunting. Gosh, how remarkable it would be if I had the chance to go out hunting myself. . .But no, it wasn't possible. I couldn't yet with Samuel fully awake and watching me like a child did their parents when they wanted someone close to be beside them whenever they felt lonely or didn't want to be left alone. The fact of how long he looked at me told me that much.

"Why are you so frightened?" A sudden question nearly bursts the insides of my chest. For the first time in hours, I cut my gaze from Samuel to Jasper my face cautious.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You know what I mean, Elizabeth." And, yes I did.

"It's nothing," I answer as a response.

"Really?"

"Why do you even care?" I questioned now venomously. I treated you like a snake treats a rat. I hurt not only you but your entire family, not to mention stole your wife and step-brother and traded them in to the Volturi in return for a dying werewolf! I would have galdy said this aloud had it not been for the three others occupying this room.

"You're my sister. That's why." He turned in my direction. "Is it because of him?"

I don't answer.

"I'm just asking because he will live, Elizabeth. The venom is dying as we speak. The shots and medicine helped, but it was the food you gave him that secured his life for good." During the time that he said this, I was returning my gaze back upon Samuel. His own gaze hadn't moved elsewhere, and for some odd reason I was very satisfied with that.

"Elizabeth?" The returning buzz of annoyance interrupted the sweet gaze and moment.

Without turning away, I said furiously, "What is it?"

He leaned in closer to about the height of my ear and whispered, "Will you please tell me where I can find my wife?"

That one questioned drove me to tear off my gaze from Samuel yet again and study the burning look of pain I was just beginning to capture in Jasper's eyes.