Let me know what you think! Sorry if any of this is confusing, most of it is on purpose. If you have any questions, feel fee to DM me!
Her father was sitting next to her. It was the first thing she could properly recognize after calming down. There was a look on his face, and whatever nameless grief it was had aged him by decades. The skin beneath his eyes was incredibly dark, and his skin pale. The wrinkles around his eyes and mouth seemed deeper, and it made the memory of his smiles flit away. He barely looked like her dad. All Bella could see was grief and exhaustion incarnate.
When he finally realized that she was aware again, he leaned forward and took her hand, gently. He looked far more anxious now than he had after her injuries in Phoenix, (something he still didn't have the truth for, just another thing for her to feel guilt over). Charlie started gently rubbing his large, calloused hands over hers, his eyes looking wet.
"Oh, Bella," he said, his voice barely audible through the hoarseness of his throat. Bella could tell he had been crying, and the thought stopped everything for her. Her father never cried – she had been acutely aware of how high up the emotional walls of her father were, and she never once blamed him for it – his tears were a shock to many of her childhood foundations. "I'm so sorry, baby."
The way he spoke to her, his own vulnerability lightly mirroring hers, made her feel small. She felt like a child again, wrapped up in his arms after a long day. He would anchor her anxious child brain down with warm hugs and soft words. He would wipe away tears while he explained to her that it wasn't her fault that the other kids were mean to her. Charlie had always made her feel safe, and now was no different.
"Dad," Bella coarsely whispered, tears marking wet trails down her sore cheeks. She wanted to scream. Her dad shouldn't feel like this. Why couldn't she be stronger? Why couldn't she have prevented this? (She savored the feeling of his hands, though, for she had so desperately missed the small acts of affection from her dad).
Charlie made eye contact with her, and whatever had helped him stop crying, crumbled. Tears leaked from his eyes as he gently squeezed her hand. (Small tingles of pain radiated up her arm when he did, but it was worth it. She didn't want him to let go).
They sat there for a few minutes before a nurse made her way into Bella's room. She was surprised to be alone in the room as every other experience had her with at least one other patient, but perhaps her situation –
Bella frowned. Air was struggling to make its way into her lungs, and the room felt far too small. The bandages she could feel were itching, and it felt like they were tearing her skin apart. Why was she so vividly aware of all that she could feel?
"Isabella?" The nurse was calm as she took readings from the monitor connected to Bella. She tried to pay attention to her, but moving her head still gave the world a slight blur. (Thankfully, she could see now, but it was still nauseating). "I need to let you know that your health information has been released to the Forks Police Department."
Bella figured as much. (Something was still nagging at her. Telling her that she was missing part of the puzzle. She felt so confused. She knew they would want information, but it wasn't clicking for her).
The nurse changed the IV fluid bags and asked the normal rotation of questions. Bella answered them to the best of her ability, her aching face making it difficult. Her dad stayed silent, still holding onto her hand. His gaze was on the wall behind her, his eyes looking dull despite the wet sheen that still remained.
"Are you okay with more visitors? You have a few hours before the doctors will be back with all the scan results."
Bella couldn't remember getting any scans done, but the thought of other people seeing her made her feel a little sick. She wanted the company, (oh, how she so wanted other people to finally see her), but she was worried. Would they think her deserving of the pain, whoever they were? Eventually, she decided that if it was a terrible experience, she could always have them leave. (Who would even want to see her? She couldn't think of anyone who thought her worth the time normally. Why now?)
Bella nodded, trying not to worsen her headache as she did. She watched dazedly as the nurse left the room, likely to document the numbers she took down, and let her visitors know. Bella felt out of her body, for a moment, as if the world had slowed down to a near stop. She felt a brief clarity wash over her, and she remembered everything.
"Oh," she gasped. She looked around, ignoring the double vision the action gave her, trying to spot his figure standing in all the shadows of the room. There was no way that he wasn't watching her, even now. Even with her father in the room, he could find a way to watch her. She could almost feel his dark gaze scratching up her form. She could feel the suffocating nature of his anger and hunger even now.
Bella was struggling to breathe again. The world felt too small. Her vision was dark at the edges, like old film.
A warm hand settles itself on her other hand, the one not held by her father, and Bella falls back into her body.
Jacob. There is no one quite as warm, or capable of setting sparks flying up her skin and down her spine. (She had never decided if she liked that feeling, all the way back when they had been hanging out. Now she would take anything she could get. Even the confusing feelings he cropped up in her).
"Jacob," She said, her eyes darting up to meet his.
Jacob had a similar countenance to her father, but his grief was overshadowed by an anger that simmered beneath the surface of his skin. It rippled across his face at each wince and twinge she gave as she moved to look at him more completely.
Bella was vaguely aware of the other people in the room, now. Sam was there, oddly enough, and so was Billy, likely for her father. (He didn't like her. He likely blamed her for her situation. Why wouldn't he? She did too). However, a majority of her focus was on the young man in front of her.
"Bells," his soft voice responded. He crouched at her bedside, seemingly ignoring the others as he inspected her for himself. "Look what he did to you…" His large hands skirted over her face with gentle touches. He seemed to want to pull her against him, to hold her more firmly, but he held back. (She wanted to scream, "Just hold me, please. I don't care how much it hurts," but she knew she couldn't. He wouldn't do it at the expense of her pain. Never).
Tears were tumbling down her face again, all at the prompting of his tender touch. She wanted to lean into his hands. She wanted to scream. The rest of her kind of wanted to die.
The thought stopped her in her tracks for the second time.
No – she could not think about death so blandly. What was the point of surviving if she was just going to give up now? She scrunched her eyes closed, pain and anger and a strange apathy creeping up on her. A hiccuping sob ripped from her chest, and she cried.
"I'll keep you safe, honey," Jacob said, his thumb wiping away one of her tears. His gaze was thoughtful as he turned to Sam.
Bella, tears blurring her vision, looked at him too. Sam was a strange figure in her life. He had saved her, all those months ago. He had kept her from Jacob. He had welcomed her into the pack. He had grown angry when he had abandoned them to save Edward. The expression on his face, now, though, told a different story.
Sam was a complicated man. He was the Alpha of a pack of young wolves. He was young himself, having lost his opportunities to something he couldn't control. He had watched his fiancé, Emily, get attacked by a vampire, making his relationship with her strained for a long time. (Emily's face had been scarred, but she had only been thankful to have remained unturned). He was angry, but a natural leader. He was distant, but he wasn't cold. Bella could see why the Pack looked up to him for more than his status as Alpha. He was a good man.
Sam's expression held a grief that Bella couldn't understand or explain. (Why would he grieve? Is it because now the Pack might have to fight on her behalf? Was it something else? She didn't want them fighting for her. She couldn't have it, not after everything).
"We will take her in, Jacob." The deep timbre of his voice startled Bella out of her thoughts. Her father seemed confused, and she could see him whip his head around to stare at Sam.
"What?" Charlie leaned back in his chair, finally letting Bella's hand slip out of his. (She twitched her fingers softly, looking down at them briefly). 'What do you mean you'll take her in?"
Although she was sure her dad didn't mean to seem so confrontational, she figured the stress of the situation had done it. The exhaustion and anger he felt was brimming under the surface, and tugging at the words he spoke.
Sam looked down at Billy, something wordless passing between them before Sam nodded. "The Cullen's can't come onto the reservation, as you know."
Bella flinched at the name, something she hadn't done in months. She felt like what little of her that had been built back up after they had left was gone now; pieces of her crushed into dust and scattered to the winds.
Charlie frowned, starting to connect the dots as Sam kept speaking. "She'll be safe with us. She can stay with Emily and me. We always have people over, who can help her recover, and keep an eye on her."
Bella watched Sam work over his thoughts as he kept explaining himself. He seemed so steadfast and confident in everything he had to say. She deeply admired it, missing the little confidence she had once had.
"You would obviously be welcomed at any time, but he doesn't know where any of us live. She would be safe, and she could recover while everything gets handled." Sam was keeping eye contact with Charlie, clearly trying to appeal to Charlie's good sense.
Bella wondered idly if 'handled' meant killing the Cullen's. She was so numb and exhausted that she barely felt a thing at the idea.
Charlie was looking at her, then. He was searching her face, taking stock of her injuries again, trying to come to terms with everything. He seemed to realize that he alone was not enough to protect her. Pain darted across his face briefly, and then his resolve washed it away.
"Alright, if Bella is okay with it."
She felt four sets of eyes stare down at her, and suddenly she couldn't meet them with her own. She wanted to tear her hair out.
"I don't – I don't want any of you risking anything for me. Please," she pleaded. 'Not again,' she silently added. She was vaguely aware of pain as she tried to look at anything but the four men in the room.
"Oh, Bells," Jacob whispers, dragging her attention to him. There is a love written all over his face, and it makes her chest ache. (How could a broken and terrible thing like her, ever, truly, respond with the amount of love he deserves in turn?) "Don't you worry about us. You deserve to feel safe, Honey. You always have."
Bella cries, as she finally relents.
When he finally leaves hours later, when the doctors come back, swearing to figure everything out so that she's all set to go when she leaves, she lies flat on her back. She stares at the ceiling, and she wonders about everything her life has come to.
Edward would return to kill her, and of that, she had no doubt. If he was angry about the wolves before, he would be angrier now. The panic that she had experienced before was now a dangerous calm. She could feel the storm brewing. Through the haze of pain that slowly slunk over her, she came to terms with the hell her life had become.
Nothing was ever going to be the same for her.