(AN) So...this will come as a shock to you guys but, I am not Stephenie Meyer. I know...I know you are beyond yourselves with surprise right now. Dry your tears and it will be okay, I promise.

In all seriousness...thank you so much for the warm support you have given this story. Every review goes straight to my heart, and every hit on my stats page gives me butterflies of excitement in my stomach.

When Life Gives You Lemons: Eat Them

Out on my window ledge
I don't feel safe
And I stay
Looking down on you

It's out of my hands for now
It's out of my hands for now

I can't just walk away
Be nice to walk away
But I don't feel safe
Get away, all the way up here

Its out of my hands for now
Its out of my hands for now

~Out Of My Hands, Dave Matthews Band

Chapter Four-Helpless

"Bella, you know I love you, and I understand that you're freaking out right now, but you have got to calm down. You're making me so nervous with your fidgeting that I'm about to drive off the road."

I tried to take a calming breath, but it sounded more like a panicked wheeze. Rose was saving my ass right now, and I didn't need to make it any harder on her than it already was.

After I'd gotten the news about Charlie, I had pumped Billy for all the details, trying to make the blood stop rushing in my ears, so that I could hear what he was saying. As soon as the line had cleared up, I had called Rose, dissolving into a bout of hysteria the minute she picked up. I don't know how she discerned the situation from my garbled whimpers and sobs, but a NASCAR driver couldn't have gotten to my house as fast as she did. Being the most epically awesome friend in the history of friend-doms, she had proceeded to take care of everything; booking a flight to Seattle, procuring a rental car to get us from Seattle to Forks, all while simultaneously keeping me from succumbing to a full on panic attack.

I honestly don't know what I would have done without her.

It wasn't her fault that time was moving too slowly. It felt like weeks, months, since I'd received Billy's phone call. In actual fact, it was a two hour flight, followed by a 3 ½ hour car drive, and it was pulling loose the last pieces of my frazzled nerves. When I finally saw the sign welcoming us to Forks, I nearly cried as a mixture of emotions washed over me. I'm not sure how I managed to feel both relieved and anxious at the same time, but I seem to be a master of playing host to conflicting feelings.

Forks was a small town with a population of 3,120, and once we made it into town we found our way to the hospital quickly. I moved at an uncharacteristically quick pace across the parking lot, flying into the hospital lobby like a bat out of hell. Billy had said that he would meet me here, and so my frenzied gaze scanned the lobby, looking for a vaguely familiar face.

"Bella."

Over the phone, it had been difficult to attach a face to the name. It had been 11 years since I'd last come to Forks for summer visits with my father. For a few years he'd agreed to come see me in Phoenix, but it had been obvious that we were both miserable in climates so drastically different from our homes. Physical visits had turned into phone calls, and phone calls had faded into email communications, and then finally we'd been reduced to cards on Christmas and birthdays. And so I'd forgotten many of the faces I'd once been fairly familiar with.

Memories came flooding back, however, when the russet skinned man with long black hair began wheeling his chair towards me, with a strained but friendly smile on his face.

"How is he Billy?" I was panting from my jaunt across the parking lot, and with the added fear laced within my voice, my words came up choppy and unstable.

His voice was gruff when he responded. "He looks like he's been run over by a truck or two, but the doctors say he's doing well."

Rose squeezed my hand and informed me she was going to stop by the cafeteria and grab us some food, while I followed Billy into the elevator and to the Cardiac Unit. My discomfort levels were at an all time high. Hospitals gave me the heebie jeebies faster than a horror film. Billy said he wanted to give me alone time with Charlie, and opted to wait outside while I visited.

I hovered outside the door indecisively, perhaps it was guilt that held me back, or fear; maybe both. It had been so long since I'd seen my father face to face, and I was nervous. But this wasn't about me…it was about Charlie, so I braced myself and entered the room.

"Ch…Dad?"

At first there was silence, but when I took a few steps into the room, soft, deep breathing answered me. I ghosted my way to my father's bedside, and stared down at his sleeping form, he looked so pale and weak against the pallid hospital sheets. The beeping, blinking machinery was intimidating, and made him look so small. Was all this normal for someone who had suffered a heart attack, or was Charlie worse off than I was being led to believe? I felt all the strength seep from my bones, and sank wearily into the chair, scooting it closer to the bed. Slowly, I reached out and grabbed his hand, my thumb gently smoothing the calloused roughness of his skin.

Time passed…minutes…hours…it felt like days. My eyes were glued to the rhythmic movement of Charlie's chest, the husky whispers of his breath. It was as if I feared that averting my eyes for even the tiniest of seconds would cause those movements, those precious sounds, to cease. Images flashed through my mind's eye, like snap shots in a family album; Charlie holding an infant version of my self, his face beaming with adoration as he awkwardly coddled my tiny form; Charlie and a child version of my self going fishing on the lake, his gentle hands covering my own as he guided me and helped me hold my fishing rod.

If eyes are the windows to the soul, then tears are raindrops, sliding down the windows on a gray, melancholy day.

I was startled out of my thoughts by a movement in the doorway. I looked up to see a man in a white doctor's coat entering the room with a chart in his hand. He looked to be in his late 40's, but was devilishly handsome despite his age, with blonde hair and gentle, blue eyes. He smiled when he saw me.

"Ah, you must be Mr. Swan's daughter, Isabella."

I nodded. "How's my father Dr…" I quickly snuck a peek at his nametag, "Dr. Cullen?"

"Well Miss Swan, your father experienced a severe heart attack. But he's doing remarkably well considering. We've checked his Troponin levels to confirm the heart attack and run some tests, and it seems your father has Coronary Artery Disease."

"He's…he's got a disease? That's like…really bad right?"

"Coronary Artery Disease is a narrowing of the small blood vessels that supply oxygen to the heart. It's caused by a buildup of plaque and fatty waste that collects in the vessels and leaves less room for the blood to get through. Unchecked and untreated, the condition can get very severe, but with the proper treatment we should be able to get your father sorted out."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "So…what do we do to fix it?"

"Your father's blood vessels are in bad shape. In some of the more severe vessels we're going to put what's called a stent. It's a mesh tube that is inserted into the arteries to keep them open. We're also going to put him on blood thinners, some medications to lower blood pressure and a diet and exercise plan. The heart is a very delicate organ Miss Swan. We have every reason to believe you're father will recover, but it will take time. Average recovery times for these sorts of traumas are usually between three and four months."

All of my breath whooshed out of me like a hurricane. Before I could pull myself together enough to think of another question to ask, Rose timidly entered the room. "Hey Bella, I brought you some dinner. You should really eat something."

I reluctantly accepted the styrofoam take out box, as Rose sat down in a chair in the other corner, glaring down at the contents of her box with little zeal or appeal. Upon opening the lid to my meal, I was greeted with a sorry excuse for a cheeseburger; I mean…McDonald's stuff looked more edible, and then there was a small side of runny applesauce.

I raised an eyebrow at Rose, "I'm gonna sit here and eat a cheeseburger…next to my dad…who just had a heart attack?"

She shrugged. "It was the only thing that didn't look like it had been sitting out there for a week."

I picked up the dejected excuse for a burger. "It looks like it's gonna kill me if I eat it."

Dr. Cullen chuckled as he looked over my father's chart and checked his monitors. "Our cafeteria is certainly not of a five star restaurant quality, but rest assured, it won't kill you."

A small smile flickered across my face. "Is that your professional or personal opinion, Doctor?"

"Both," he answered pleasantly. He started to head towards the door, and I turned to look at Rose, who was busily working her fancy phone.

"Whatcha doing, Rose?"

"Trying to figure out where we're gonna sleep tonight."

We'd discussed this during the car ride here. Rose had asked why we couldn't just stay at Charlie's house. I'd cited that I was going to use his bedroom, because that was creepy, and my old bedroom was probably a home office or a game room by now. The couch was the only thing left, and two people couldn't sleep comfortably on the old two-seater. Besides that, if Charlie was able to come home relatively soon, I knew I would want to stay and make sure he was settled, and there was no way three people could function in that tiny house.

Rose let it go, but I knew she'd caught on to my unspoken thoughts. I didn't want to be surrounded by Charlie, by all of the belongings I feared he wouldn't be coming home too.

"Might I offer a suggestion?" I jumped a little at the sound of Dr. Cullen's voice. He was lingering in the doorway, his body turned back towards the room.

"Um, sure."

"My wife and I have a guest house on our property which we'd be more than happy to rent to you during your stay. It's not quite luxurious, and we're still completing repairs, but it should serve you well for the duration of your stay."

People in small towns are so damn friendly. We need to start sending whatever these folks are drinking to the people in big cities.

"I really appreciate the offer, Doctor," I answered with genuine feeling. "Could I have a few minutes to think about it?"

"Of course." He nodded and gave me directions to his office, so that I could come and find him if I decided to accept his offer. As he left the room, Rose sat forward in her chair and looked at me incredulously. "What are you doing? That's going to be a hell of a lot cheaper than a hotel, Bella."

"Rose, you don't have to be here. You can go home."

She paused…and I watched her face get that hard, porcelain look that it always got right before she bitched someone out. "Do you REALLY think that I would come all the way up here and then just LEAVE you? What the hell kind of person do you think I am?"

I shook my head. "You've already done too much, Rose. The Doctor said that Charlie's going to need three to four months to recover. I…I have to stay with him. I know him, and he won't take care of himself the way he should unless there's someone to keep an eye on him. I can't ask you to stay here with me for that long."

Her eyes narrowed and she shot me with a steely gaze. "Have you thought this through at all? Where will you stay all by yourself? How are you going to afford to live for four months?"

"I'm not going to ask you to stay so that I can steal money from you."

"Damn it, Bella! It's not stealing if I offer it to you. I swear to God you are too moral for your own good. Listen to me. I am staying. This isn't a vacation or some luxury getaway. It's a family emergency. You are family to me, more than any person who shares my DNA, and I will give anything I can to help you get through this."

My voice was small and timid. "But it's not your money Rose; it's your parents'."

A sarcastic snort filled the room. "You think they give a shit? This is all pocket change to them, sweetie. I could spend $2,000 a month and they wouldn't care as long as I didn't bother them."

That's when I lost it. Many tears had traveled a path from my eyes to my chin since I'd heard about my father. But this was the first time I'd lost all semblance of control. The sobs tore through me, curdled in my throat, and seeped from every pore. Rose was by my side in a flash, wrapping her arms around me and holding me tightly.

"Bells?"

The voice was soft, and I barely heard it over the sound of my hysterics. Rose pulled back, and I peered over her shoulder to see that my father had turned towards me, his eyes blinking sleepily.

"I'm gonna go talk to Dr. Cullen about the guest house," Rose whispered softly in my ear. I nodded.

"Bells…you're here."

He was groggy, but gaining coherence. I leaned forward, trying quickly to erase the evidence of my distress, and gently grabbed a hold of his hand. "Of course I'm here Daddy."

God, I hadn't called him Daddy since I was small.

Smiling, he squeezed my hand gently. "You didn't have to come all the way up here for little old me, Bells."

"You're my dad. Of course I did." I hesitated for a moment. "Did…did you talk to the Doctor?"

There was a minute nod of his head. "This morning. He told me I'll be needing some sort of tube put in to help my blood flow. Easy as pie…I'll be healthy as a horse again in no time."

I chuckled at his nonchalant attitude. "You really did a number on yourself, Dad. But don't you worry, I'm gonna stay here until you're better."

"Hmph…you mean you're gonna coddle me."

"I'm going to make sure you lay off the steak and cobbler at the diner every other night."

He gave a slight laugh, but the exhaustion was clear on his face and his eyes began fluttering closed again.

"You get some rest, Dad. I'll come see you again tomorrow."

Leaning forward, I let my lips brush gently against the weathered skin of his forehead. Gathering up my things, I left as quietly as I could, pausing in the doorway to whisper a soft "I love you" that only I could hear. It still felt good to say it though.

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By the time I found Rose, she'd sorted out all of the details with Dr. Cullen. He'd given her directions to the guest house, as he'd be at the hospital for another 5 hours at least. We'd followed the directions well enough while traveling on the main roads, but found ourselves scrambling when we had to look out for smaller back-roads whose names were obscured by the absurd amounts of foliage.

After a few wrong turns, and arguments over the correct interpretation of Dr. Cullen's handwriting, we found ourselves driving towards an impressively grand house. This was obviously the main house, and we followed a small road past it, back a mile or so on the property.

The guest house was not modern, and certainly not as grand as the abode we had just passed. It was a modest, single story home, obviously fashioned sometime in the 1950's. As Dr. Cullen had said, it was still being renovated; the paint was fading and peeled, and the lawn, while not overgrown, did not boast the same mossy green color as the other homes in the area. Despite its run-down appearance, I found it's 'time capsule' vibe to be rather charming.

We pulled into a small gravel driveway, and released grateful sighs at the prospect of being at our final destination. From the car, I could see a woman sitting on the porch steps. As Rose and I got out of the car, she stood and came to greet us. A heart shaped face encased a warm smile, and soft grey-blue eyes. She had dark hair which cascaded down her shoulders, adding to the warm, motherly vibe she was exuding. She greeted us in a soft and soothing alto tone.

"Welcome. I'm Esme Cullen." Reaching me, she gave a quick appraisal before leaning in to wrap me in a gentle hug. "You must be Bella; you have your father's eyes. How is he?"

"Um, he's doing alright," I murmured. "Thank you so much for this offer, Mrs. Cullen."

"Please, call me Esme," she answered, squeezing my shoulder. After giving Rosalie an equally warm welcome, she helped us with our bags, and gave us a tour of the house; which was much more spacious than it had appeared from the outside. The walls were painted in varying shades of cream and peach, with dark wood flooring and white trim.

The front door opened into an inviting living room, with a brick fireplace and an impressive entertainment center. An archway beckoned us forward, into a moderately sized dining room, which in turn lead us to a galley style kitchen adorned with teal walls and white cabinets. The teal walls kind of threw me off, but at least the appliances were considerably modern.

Both a door from the kitchen and a door next to the living room fireplace opened into a hallway, which hosted the linen closet, the laundry area, a bathroom, and lead us to three bedrooms.

An epic battle ensued, during which Rose insisted I take the master bedroom. I countered with the argument that she had made more than enough sacrifices for me regarding this trip, and that if she didn't want me to perish in the fires of my tragically painful guilt she would take the master. It was one of the few times I ever won an argument with Rosalie Hale. However, the glare in her eyes told me I'd be paying for it later.

Esme took us back into the kitchen, where she proceeded to show us that she had stocked our fridge and cupboards with some basic supplies to hold us over, at least until we had time to get to the grocery store.

She proceeded to tell us about the house, how it had been the main house on the property when they'd bought it. Dr. Cullen's original intentions had been to tear it down, but his wife had not been able to bear the thought of destroying a piece of history. It had been used as a guest house for when their parents had come to visit, but hadn't been used in almost ten years.

Giving us another round of hugs, and informing us that she worked from home and that we were to come to her if we should need anything, Mrs. Cullen took her leave. This left me with nothing to do but my least favorite activity known to man…unpacking. The room I picked consisted of an unexpectedly comfortable queen bed, a desk, a bedside table, and a dresser. The whole house was a rather delicate balance of emptiness, and familiarity. Esme had picked simple furniture pieces, most likely in the hopes that they would speak comfort to all who used them. They did. It was like the house had the feel of a partially painted canvas; blank enough to appeal to a general and wide public, but not so barren that it overwhelmed you with all the possibilities.

After a while, the weariness of the day began to take its toll. Rose and I ate in tired silence, a dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches and some homemade tomato soup. We also partook of some lemon drop cookies, courtesy of a goody basket Esme had left us on the kitchen counter.

We retired to bed far earlier than we would have if we were back home in Phoenix. It was so eerily quiet, yet so noisy at the same time. The house creaked, and groaned, and I am not ashamed to admit that my 23 year old butt got a bad case of the heebie jeebies. The mixture of being in a strange place, and the overwhelming amount of fear running through my veins kept my mind wide awake despite my body's exhaustion. I don't know how long I lingered under the cool sheets, unwilling to look at the clock beside me before I couldn't take the stillness anymore.

Trying to avoid any creaky floorboards, I headed back out into the living room. Upon opening the hallway door, I found my eyes invaded with bright light, despite being aware I'd turned off all the lights as I went to bed. When my eyes adjusted, I realized that Rose was sitting on the couch, a book in hand, looking as uncomfortable and 'sleepy-but-awake' as I was.

"Hey," she said softly, attempting to give me an encouraging smile.

The simple, harmless word caused me to lose it, for the second time in one day. Somehow, my feet made it to the couch, where I collapsed and released my emotions onto Rosalie's shoulders, in the form of loud, unapologetic sobs.

It occurred to me…that this wasn't just about my father. Seeing him there on that hospital bed, looking as if he were at the brink of death's door had scared the crap out of me. If Charlie, a considerably active, supposedly healthy man, could get so sick…what did my future hold for me? Would I be in a hospital bed soon, looking pale and weak and fragile? I was afraid; for my father...and for myself.

Eventually, my sobs turned into sniffles, which then turned into hiccups, and finally… shifted into the quiet breaths of slumber.

(AN) I know this chapter was low on the funnies, but we've got to experience the low's if we can celebrate the eventual high moments.

I will see you guys next week. If the incessant snow and ice doesn't take me out first, that is.