A/N: I hope the shift into third-person omniscient narration doesn't bother anyone too much. The old version stuck with first-person, but for the sake of clarity and quality, this little shift was necessary. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 10

An astute observer in the Cullen residence in the early hours of the morning would have been privy to the frenetic scene that played out in the smallest bedroom of the family home. It was there, tucked up in a cozy, soft bed, that a bedraggled girl lay still and limp, unmoving and unknowing in the dark recesses of her mind. A blond man stood over her, urgently checking her pulse and lifting her eyelids. Two other men, much younger than the first, stood next to her bed, the largest fidgeting and the youngest staring.

"Someone please call 911," said the doctor calmly, taking a penlight out of his pocket, shining it anxiously on her to check pupil reflexes. Jasper, breaking eye contact with his sister, leapt from his spot and darted from the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

"What's going on?" asked a tousle-haired boy peeking into the room. "Dad, what's wrong?"

"Go back to bed, Edward," said Carlisle sternly, but the boy did not move.

"Is she okay?" he asked, his fear causing his voice to break. "Is she sick, dad?"

"She's unconscious," said Carlisle with a frown, and Emmett, still fidgeting, wheeled around.

"Is she gonna be okay?" he demanded, white-faced. "Is she…"

"We'll know more when we get to the hospital," said Carlisle, his face grim. Although neither of the younger men knew it, Carlisle's medical experience told him more than he needed to know about this kind of situation. This was exactly what Doctor Gerandy had been afraid of when he'd discharged her earlier that evening. There had been no significant swelling then, no bleeding on her brain…

What this meant for her, Carlisle could only guess. Before Edward could make another sound, Jasper pushed him aside and careened back into the room, holding out the phone to Carlisle.

"Here," he said, breathless. "You're the doctor, take it."

"Yes," said Carlisle, drawing up to his full height and taking the phone. "No, she's non-responsive."

Setting the phone between his shoulder and ear, Carlisle took the girl's hand in his own. Emmett gasped, outraged, as he took the girl's finger and pressed down on her nail with the side of his pen with what should have been excruciating force. His sister did not even flinch.

"No pain response," said Carlisle, his brow furrowed. By this time, the activity had roused his wife as well, and she tip-toed in.

"Carlisle, what's wrong?"

Carlisle merely shook his head and listened closely to the dispatcher, letting Emmett fill her in. Emmett's stunted words made just enough sense for Esme's eyes to bulge and for her hand to clap over her mouth.

"Someone go and wait outside to show them in," said Carlisle gently, allowing Esme to take up the task. He knew she would not cope well in the sick room—she never did—but he also knew that there was no way she could remain uninvolved. His wife had been extremely worried about the girl from the moment she had pulled up in their driveway, and Carlisle knew only too well the toll these past few days had taken on her.

Esme had never been good with sadness.

"Bella, come on," said Jasper gently, leaning in over the bed. "Wake up."

The girl did not stir.

"Is she breathing?" demanded Carlisle suddenly, watching the unnatural, ashy paleness creeping over her face very quickly. Jasper rested his head carefully on her chest, listening intently, relieved to hear the quick inhales and exhales.

"Yes," he growled anxiously, and Emmett visibly relaxed.

"But not well," said Carlisle gently, pressing his hand to her chest. Both Emmett and Jasper knew he was itching to take up his stethoscope and perform a more thorough investigation, but his supplies were out in the trunk of his car, and he could not leave her now.

"She was fine an hour ago," protested Emmett suddenly, drawing himself up to full height. "I woke her myself." He began to pace.

"I know," soothed Carlisle quietly, urging the man to keep calm. "These things aren't always predictable. As far as I know, we've caught it quickly. If we hadn't been so diligent, she might have been far worse by morning."

"She seemed alright," said Emmett, bewildered. "I mean, she cried, but who wouldn't after being woken up three times in three hours? Wasn't that something the other doctor said to look out for? Crying?" Emmett's voice grew louder and more upset.

"You had no way of knowing," said Carlisle gently, and Jasper gripped his brother's shoulder. "We'll get this sorted out," he promised.

Emmett fell silent.

For the next few minutes, no one spoke. The dim bulb in the bedside lamp set the room aglow with buttery light, but not even the brightest of lights would have roused Bella just then. She lay perfectly still, completely unconcerned with her brothers' worry or the doctor's troubled countenance. Though Jasper could not know it, she was not immersed in feverish dreams as he feared she was. Nothing in her head reminded her of her wretched father or of her wonderful, beautiful mother who had been so cruelly snatched away. Before, when Bella dreamed, she had often conjured up either terrible nightmares or dreams so unbearably nostalgic that they twisted the dagger in her heart. She relived Charlie's violence, and sunbathed with her mother on the shores of the Pacific. She felt Charlie's hot, sweaty hands roaming freely over her body, and she watched her mother at the bathroom mirror, painting her face with makeup.

"Some day, you'll be old enough to wear some too!" Renee would say. "When you're bigger, we'll have such fun dressing up…"

But none of this was true just now. Now, Bella lay blissfully unaware of both pain and pleasure, unable to perceive the world around her. For now, she existed only in her own mind, in some dark recess that not even she cared to reach. She could not see the rush of paramedics flooding into the room, or feel the oxygen mask they strapped on her face. She did not feel any rush of movement as she was expertly transferred from the cozy, warm bed to the wheeled stretcher. She could not feel the cold night air nipping at her exposed flesh before they got the gurney into the ambulance, and she could not hear the worried talk around her as she was driven off into the night.

In the hospital, before her family could arrive, Bella was poked, prodded, and examined within an inch of her life. New medications were sent through her IV cannula, and the bandage was unceremoniously removed from the top of her head. Doctors with cold, steady hands felt carefully around the wound, and if she could have heard them, she would have heard the barking voice demanding a new scan of her brain.

Bella wasn't conscious to hear the fight her oldest brother had with the triage nurse, who refused to let him through. She couldn't hear him calling after her when he finally caught sight of her stretcher behind the nurse, being wheeled off to diagnostic imaging.

"She needs care, Emmett," said Carlisle sadly, watching three nurses wheel the gurney away down the hall. "She'll be in the best hands, I promise you. Sit down."

The scandalized triage nurse shook her head and excused herself as Emmett, angry and afraid, threw himself unceremoniously into a pink armchair. Jasper was not quite so agitated. He sat gingerly next to his brother, neither speaking nor looking up. Had Emmett been less frazzled, he might have seen his brother's strange silence for what it was—guilt.

A long thirty minutes passed in dragging silence as the three—two brothers and one doctor—sat silent in the hospital waiting room. As it was so late at night and Emmett was so agitated, the irritated nurse set them up in one of the nearby quiet rooms, which were most often used to give families the very worst news. Emmett bristled when he was led inside, wondering what sort of game this nurse was trying to play, but did not make another scene.

Not two minutes after they had been seated there was a knock on the door and Doctor Gerandy stepped inside.

"Is she okay?" demanded Emmett at once, jumping up from his seat. "What's wrong?" Jasper stood as well, moving to stand next to his brother.

"She's got a bleed," said Doctor Gerandy gently urging Emmett to sit back down. Emmett shrugged him off with a scowl, crossing his arms.

"What's that mean?" he demanded. "Is she going to be okay?"

"We're prepping her for surgery," said the doctor delicately. "The on-call neurosurgeon is coming straight in from Harborview…"

"Surgery?" said Jasper, his voice cracking. "For what?"

"We have to relieve the pressure on her brain," explained the doctor delicately. "If we don't she might not wake up."

Jasper looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead sat himself down on the chair he'd hastily abandoned upon the doctor's entrance. Emmett only took the briefest moment to register his brother's distress before he rounded on the doctor.

"Can we see her?" he demanded. "Before she goes in?"

"I think that would be wise," said Doctor Gerandy quietly, shooting a furtive glance at Carlisle. Carlisle's brow furrowed quickly before he smoothed his face into a mask of calm and understanding, rising gently from his seat.

"The OR is being prepped, so you'll need to be quick," said the Doctor. "Once McMaster gets here, it'll be time to go."

"Did she improve at all with the medication?" asked Carlisle gently, letting the two boys out of the room first. Doctor Gerandy led the way down the hall.

"No," he admitted softly. "She's relatively stable, but she's still a six on the GCS."

Carlisle sighed, nodding quietly.

"A what on what?" asked Emmett confused.

"She's comatose," said Jasper in a low growl, and Emmett wheeled around.

"What?"

"GCS," said Jasper flatly. "The Glasgow Coma Scale. The lower the number, the worse you are. It only goes down to three."

Emmett stared at him, blinking, trying to comprehend.

"She'll wake up, though?" he asked, a note of worry seeping into his voice. "I mean, she has to wake up…"

Jasper did not reply.

"Right through here," said Doctor Gerandy softly, leading them to a curtained area at the end of a long ward. Two nurses hovered around the bed, and there was a cacophony of medical noises that reached them as soon as they entered. The curtain was pulled back and Emmett could not suppress his groan.

There she was, just as she had been at the house, but this time without her bandage and with all kinds of monitors. She a cannula in her nose replacing the oxygen mask, and there were three screens by her bedside monitoring various bodily functions.

"Go and see her," said Carlisle gently, stepping back to let the boys through. "You don't have much time. As soon as the surgeon gets here, they'll have to take her…"

Emmett was the first to step forward, looking apprehensive and angry all at once. He stood awkwardly by the bedside, his hands hovering uncertainly over her, unsure where to touch. Should he take her hand, though it was taped up? Should he rest his hand on her shoulder, where an electrode sat? Her head, perhaps, even though she had that nasty gash?

He settled for the hand, feeling like he could do the least amount of damage there, and was thoroughly unimpressed by the anticlimactic reunion. She didn't even know he was there. Some part of him, deep in the recesses of his brain, registered that this could be the last time he'd ever hold her hand, but he quickly forced that idea back. He did not want to cry in front of her, or worse, in front of Jasper. Speaking of Jasper, where had he gotten to?

"Are you coming?" said Emmett gruffly, his brusqueness disguising his fear. Jasper blinked twice at him but did not move, looking shocked.

"What?" demanded Emmett, knowing that if Jasper missed this opportunity and things went bad, he would be haunted for the rest of his days.

"This is all my fault," said Jasper finally, not in a tone of anguish or horror, but one so matter-of-fact that Emmett had to turn around.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, exasperated. "Come and see her before they take her away." Before she's gone forever, corrected a little nasty voice in his head.

Jasper just shook his head, standing back.

"It's all my fault," he repeated, and Emmett was both confused and concerned to see his eyes well up. Jasper rarely cried—and never in front of his brother.

"How is this your fault?" demanded Emmett, humouring Jasper for a moment. "You tried to protect her. We all did."

"I opened the door," said Jasper, and this time, his voice broke. "I should never have opened the door!"

Emmett stared intently at his brother, forcing himself to remain calm.

"You were worried about Carlisle," he said lowly, knowing why his brother had unlocked Rosalie's bedroom door the night before. It had been that action that allowed Charlie to grab her, to drag her out to the car, to push her so hard that he had cracked her skull... "It's understandable. You couldn't have known he'd do this."

"I knew he was violent," protested Jasper. "That's why I opened it…"

"You are not responsible for his actions," said Emmett, cutting him off. Jasper stared up at him.

"No matter what you feel," he said scornfully, "you are not to blame for what he's done. Now come and say goodbye before it's too late."

The words escaped without his consent, and he saw Jasper's eyes flood once more.

"It's not goodbye," he spat, taking two steps forward as he blinked his tears away. Emmett stood to the side, still holding her hand, and let his brother find some other piece of her to hold on to.

"She's not going anywhere."

Emmett, feeling wise, kept his mouth shut. That niggling little voice in his head was snarking back, murmuring that it very well might be the end, and wouldn't it be something if this was the last time they ever saw her alive…

Emmett clenched his eyes shut.

"Please don't say goodbye," whispered Jasper in her ear, settling at her head. He leaned over, mindful of the monitors, and kissed her cheek as gently as he could, lingering for a moment before he pulled back.

"Don't you dare go anywhere," he whispered again, and Emmett looked away. It felt wrong to intrude on their private moment, even though he knew that this moment did not belong to any two, but rather all three.

He hoped to high heaven that this would not be the last moment the three of them shared together. He was not sure how he would endure it if it was…

Jasper noticed the strange beeping noise before he did.

"Back up," he said suddenly, forcing Emmett to relinquish Bella's hand. She still did not stir as the second monitor at her side began to flash, first yellow and then red, a grating alarm sounding from the little screen.

"Step back, please!" said a nurse, flinging the curtains aside and brushing the boys away. Both watched, Jasper with sickening fear and Emmett in angry confusion, as Carlisle hung up the cell phone he'd been talking on to slam his hand down on a button at the bedside. The nurses laid the bed flat—it had been inclined somewhat, propping her up—and began opening the front of her gown.

"Code blue, ICU," rang out a cool, female voice over the intercom system. "Code blue, ICU. All available staff please report to room 406."

The nurse tore off two electrodes impeding her work and began chest compressions.

"Code blue, ICU. Code Blue, ICU. All available staff please report to room 406."

"Step back," said Carlisle gently, pressing the two boys against the far wall as the door flew open and three more people came rushing in. As the University Hospital was a teaching hospital, Carlisle knew that any residents, students, and even some volunteers would come running, and he did not want anyone getting in the way. The three men watched as Doctor Gerandy swept through the room, taking charge with the IED machine attached to the wall.

Emmett could not watch them shock her.

"Bring me the intubation kit," Gerandy said, shaking his head. "She's gone down again. If we can't stabilize her airway, we can't take her to the OR."

Carlisle didn't bother to clarify for Jasper, who closed his eyes and sighed. The boy was actually shaking, and Carlisle wished he could be of more help. A steadying hand was the best he could do just then.

Very few medical procedures bothered Carlisle, a 20-year medical veteran. He watched with sad, knowing eyes as Doctor Gerandy tilted her head back and slid the tube carefully and precisely down her throat. The machine, still beeping hectically, slowed and calmed as a full breath of air was forced into her, no doubt doing damage to her broken, tender rib.

Still, she did not wake.

"McMaster has just arrived," said Gerandy, speaking to the head nurse. "Go and help him scrub in. She can't keep on like this for much longer."

"Yes Doctor," said the nurse, and she was out of the room at once. She left an eerie silence in her wake.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," said Gerandy gently, glancing over at Emmett and Jasper. "We don't normally keep family in the room when things like this happen."

Jasper said nothing, refusing to look up from the floor, but Emmett reared up.

"What was that?" he demanded, taking a jerky step forward. He did not dare cross the invisible line keeping him separate from his sister now, however, as an unspoken fear seemed to have crept over him.

"She stopped breathing, and it sent her into cardiac arrest," said the Doctor gently. "We've got her breathing again, and her heart's restarted."

"Her heart stopped?" said Emmett, and Carlisle was alarmed to hear the pronounced panic in his voice. "Is she…"

"She is in urgent need of a neurosurgeon, as I said before," said Doctor Gerandy patiently. "There is a bleed under her skull putting pressure on her brain. That's why she's comatose. The worse the bleed gets, the more pressure it exerts. This time, it looks like it's affected her respiratory center."

Emmett stared at the doctor, lost for words. Carlisle reached out a supporting hand to him as well, keeping one on each of the brothers.

"Will she…" said Emmett again, swallowing reflexively. This was way more than anyone had bargained for.

"We don't know," said Gerandy. "I have hope that everything is reversible, but there's no way to know for sure. Only time will tell."

Emmett didn't say anything back, but slipped back wordlessly against the wall as a flurry of nurses came back into the room, each of them taking up a station at Bella's bedside. One controlled the breaks on the wheels, the other steered the gurney, two more pushed the IV pole and the wheeled monitors. Someone else kept a close watch on the screens, no doubt prepared to intervene should things go downhill again.

As the group shuffled by, no one spoke. Only Jasper put a hand out, his fingertips brushing Bella's long, dark hair for the briefest moment as she passed.

In the moments after she had been wheeled away, he kept his hand out, as if he could still feel her there.

Emmett only looked up from the carpeted floor of the quiet room when he saw a pair of strappy red sandals—entirely inappropriate for a hospital visit.

"Are you okay?" asked Rose gently, kneeling down in front of him. She had never seen him this quiet, this still, and at the same time, so terribly, awfully frightened.

"No," he said gruffly, and she took a deep breath.

"How much longer?" she asked slipping into the seat beside him. Esme had gone straight to Jasper, enveloping him in a fervent hug. Alice and Edward were parking the car.

"Dunno," said Emmett sourly. "They came by about twenty minutes ago and said they had no news."

"No news is good news," repeated Carlisle for what felt like the hundredth time. Emmett had been on the verge of snapping again when first a nurse, and then a doctor had come by, each time to say only that things were progressing, and that they should have some news soon.

"She'll be okay," said Rose gently, urging Emmett's head down on her shoulder. "You'll see. She's a lot stronger than she looks." She kissed his curls.

"Yeah." Emmett's voice was gruff, even for him.

"How's Jazz doing?" asked Rose in a whisper, glancing only briefly at Jasper, who was resting against Esme.

"Dunno," said Emmett again, shrugging. "Nervous."

Anyone with eyes could see that Jasper had left nervous behind some hours ago, and had been stranded in the land of panic for some time now.

"It'll all be over soon," soothed Rose, speaking loud enough for Jasper to hear her too. He did not react.

"Yeah, but done how?" asked Emmett darkly, his eyes brimming again. He angrily wiped the tears away, but not quickly enough to fool Rosalie.

This time, she had no answer for him.

"I'm so sorry," she said, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso. "I'm so, so sorry."

At that moment, a frantic Alice and an anxious Edward came through the door, one in a whirlwind of colour and tears, the other lurking awkwardly against the wall.

Rosalie knew he felt like he did not belong here, in this moment of family grief.

"Oh Jazz," said Alice softly, taking in the sorry sight on the hard chair. To everyone's astonishment, Jasper responded not with gentle words of reassurance, but by snatching her up in a massive bear hug and burying his face in her collar. Not two seconds after Alice had run her fingers through his hair did he burst into tears, unable to hold himself together. Astonished Alice stood, stoic and strong for the first time in her life as Jasper, usually a pillar of emotional stability, fell completely and totally to pieces.

Emmett could not look away.

"Shh," said Alice soothingly, trying her best to be of some help. "Jasper, it's okay…"

Emmett, unable to stomach this strange display of grief from his calm, collected brother, reached over and patted his shoulder, but said nothing. He did not need to. Jasper gripped his hand and in that moment, the both of them were little boys again- frightened and lonely, and desperate for some sense of balance.

And so they sat for another hour, each waiting with bated breath for any scrap of news. Jasper calmed himself slowly but surely, and let Alice take the seat next to him, though he did not break his contact with her. From the second he had let her go, his hand had been in hers, sometimes clenching so tightly he feared he was hurting her, sometimes drawing absently with his fingers on her palm. Esme sat stoically in her chair, her hand on Carlisle's knee, staring at the door as if willing the Doctor to come forward. Edward sought out a seat in the back corner where he took up residence, fidgeting with his hands in his pockets.

"How much longer is this going to take?" asked Emmett finally, breaking the long silence of the room. Alice started at the sound of his voice, and Jasper glanced over at Carlisle.

"It's hard to say," he said gently, taking care to phrase himself carefully. "These things sometimes take longer than expected…"

"It's been six hours," said Emmett angrily, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. No one had gotten much sleep the night before. "How long does it take to fix one bleed?"

"They need to make sure she's stable before they close her up," explained Carlisle quietly. "The surgery could've been done a while ago, but if she can't be stabilized, they'll keep looking for something else to fix. It might not be another complication."

"She only hit her head once," said Emmett desperately. Rosalie knew that Emmett struggled with the medical jargon that was of such interest to Jasper and Carlisle, but in this case, he was desperate to understand.

"One hit doesn't equal one bleed. The brain is a delicate organ," said Carlisle. "We know so little about it…"

He was cut off by a knock at the door.

"Yes?" said Emmett, his voice echoing. "Come in."

Doctor Gerandy came in, looking haggard.

"It's all done," he said gently. "Thank you for waiting so patiently."

"Is she okay?" demanded Emmett urgently. "Is she waking up?"

"Not quite yet," said the Doctor sadly. "Let me explain."

And explain he did.

There had been two bleeds—both close together, but the second was unreachable through the original incision site. No sooner had Doctor McMaster repaired the first bleed did the second make itself urgently known, and they had been forced to call for blood from the donor bank in the basement. The second part of the surgery had required another incision, which had led to a heightened risk of swelling…

It was all confusing to Rosalie, who stared only at Emmett, gauging his reaction. Emmett looked hard-faced and angry all over again.

"I hope they let him rot," he spat suddenly, as Doctor Gerandy finished up his explanation.

"I'm sorry?" he said, looking to Carlisle for an explanation.

"Charlie," growled Emmett, refusing to call the man "dad" any longer. "I hope they let him rot."

Jasper grunted his assent.

"Yes, well," said Doctor Gerandy, a little awkward. "In an hour or two someone will be by to take you up to see her again. Only three at a time, mind you. They don't like big crowds in the ICU. The next 24 hours will be critical. We will monitor her closely for signs of…"

Rose heard nothing more, breathing a sigh of relief now that this wretched ordeal was over. Bella had come through. Sick and terribly injured, to be sure, but alive. And that was something.

As the sun began to make its way above the tall Seattle skyline, a little nurse in pink scrubs came by the room to take three visitors to the fourth floor ICU. Emmett and Jasper leapt up, escorted by Esme who was eager to lay eyes on the girl she had grown to care for. The three of them left without so much as a glance back, and Rose couldn't help but smile. She, too, wanted to visit, but she could wait her turn.

"Do you think she'll be alright?" asked Alice worriedly, turning to face Carlisle once Jasper was out of earshot. "I mean, that doctor didn't sound too sure…"

"I hope so," said Carlisle softly, looking up with tired eyes. "It'll be a long road for her, to be sure…"

"She will be fine," said Rosalie suddenly speaking up. "She's come this far, there's no way she's giving up now."

"It might not be her choice, Rose," said Carlisle gently. "With injuries such as these, there are some major risks of complication…"

"No," said Rosalie firmly. "She will live, and she will thrive."

Carlisle just watched her, smiling sadly, and did not reply.

A/N: We'll get back to the first-person narration soon, I promise. Let me know what you think!