Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just play with them. This story is rated M, and is not suitable for younger readers. Story contains violence, coarse language and sexual "situations". Please do not read if any of these things offends you.

Note: [Beta'ed by: adt216 & vasweetpea07]

Chapter 22 - Blame

Isabella Swan POV

One little push in an empty school hallway, and it resulted in me being forced to stay in the hospital for the weekend. Wasn't that just the cherry on top of the crap-sundae that was my life?

Dr. Cullen had been nothing but kind to me ever since I woke up in the uncomfortable hospital bed, that I was currently laying in, but under that kind exterior, I could tell there was a storm of emotions brewing. He was angry about something, and when he asked me about what happened. I immediately realized why.

He thought Edward was responsible for me being here.

I first thought that it was odd that he had jumped to that conclusion so quickly, but then I remembered that Emmett and Edward were the ones who had taken me to the hospital. So I guess Dr. Cullen just assumed that Edward was involved in this.

I didn't know why it bugged me, but it did. Why did people always have to jump to conclusions? They didn't even want to hear people out before they decided what was right or wrong. I hated to admit it, but Dr. Cullen reminded me about my father in a way. Dad was convinced that everything Mom said or did was the truth and right, and whatever I said or did in response was wrong. Just like how everything Edward did was wrong in Dr. Cullen's eyes, even if he wasn't involved in the first place.

I told Dr. Cullen what happened and that it wasn't Edward's fault. My memory may have been a little hazy from being knocked out and then passing out again, but if there was one thing of which I was sure, it was this: Edward had done nothing wrong; in fact, he had been the one to help me.

Edward might not like me; I might not like him, but I didn't think anyone deserved to get falsely accused of anything. After everything I've gone through, how could I not believe in the sanctity of right and wrong? Karma might be a bitch, but nothing Edward had done in the past could justify how his family and friends were shutting him out now.

I felt like it was somehow partly my fault. When Edward came to the hospital after the accident, maybe I should have kept my mouth shut and not made that stupid comment about his car, and that he was only there to collect the money for the repairs. If I had kept my mouth shut, maybe Dr. Cullen wouldn't have been that suspicious of Edward and maybe his friends would have been a little nicer.

Why did I have to be so mean to him about it?

Maybe it was the shock of being hit or from being in such a serious accident that made me. Back then, I needed to find someone to blame, but now that need had disappeared. I had seen firsthand what happened when people blamed and accused people, and it wasn't pretty. There was only one person in my life that I could blame without feeling bad about it, and that someone was my mother. I had every right to blame her for what she had done to me, for how she hurt me, because what she did wasn't an accident. She had done what she did on purpose, unlike the accident that had been just that… an accident.

I knew I could blame Tanya and hate her for what she did, but I didn't have the energy for it. Blaming her, or hating her, for what she did wouldn't make me happier. She may have pushed me on purpose, but I'm pretty sure she hadn't expected me to pass out because of it. It was just an unfortunate consequence that none of us had foreseen. Of course, I was pissed that she pulled a stunt like that. She should definitely be held responsible for her actions, but I couldn't find it in me to care. The only thing that worried me was that Edward would have to take the fall for what she did. Other than that, I couldn't care less. I had bigger problems than Tanya right now.

I opened my eyes and it felt as if I just had woken up for the hundredth time that night, or maybe I hadn't even fallen asleep once. The drugs that I'd been given for the pain were seriously messing with my head. I didn't know what was real. Maybe I was sleeping after all?

The room was hidden in shadows, and only barely lit up by the moon and streetlights from outside. From what I could see, the sky was almost completely bare of clouds and the stars shone like a million diamonds.

Twinkle, twinkle little star…

Yeah, the drugs were definitely making my head feel funny, but at least I wasn't in any pain.

I didn't even notice that I had closed my eyes again until I opened them again, and I flinched infinitesimally when I found myself gazing back at a familiar pair of green eyes. Edward looked almost as surprised as I felt and I blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"I didn't lie! I told your dad the truth!"

He cocked an eyebrow at me and tilted his head to the side.

"What?" he asked, sounding both confused and a little amused.

"I told him what happened, that you didn't do it… please… don't hurt me…."

A part of me told me that he wasn't here to hurt me, while another part asked me why he would be here in the middle of the night, if he didn't want to hurt me. He probably got into a lot of trouble for what happened. He didn't care about me and the only reason he helped me was because… because what?

My mind was spinning with questions and the drugs weren't really helping matters.

"That's not why I'm here," he replied with a sigh, as he sat down in one of the chairs by the window. I followed him with my eyes while trying to make sense of his presence.

"Then why are you here?" I asked calmly. He smirked a little and his white teeth sparkled in the moonlight; his eyes were shining in all their green glory. It was a fascinating sight.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Of course, how could I be so stupid?

It was a dream. It was all a freaking dream.

I felt myself relax at the realization. Of course it was a dream. Why else would he be here? Stupid, silly Bella. And now that I knew it was a dream, I could use it to my advantage and say everything I ever wanted to tell him, blowing off some steam, if you will, and get some things off my chest, without the risk of making a fool out of myself.

Thank you drugs, you did well.

"I have two questions," he said, still with that smirk plastered to his face. "One, what have they given you? And two, are you sharing?" I snorted at the weird question. Was this my subconscious's way of mocking me for feeling slightly out of it because of the drugs? Maybe.

"You're an idiot," I replied, directing the comment mostly at myself and my subconscious.

"So I've heard," he replied.

I met his gaze directly and neither of us looked away for something that felt like an eternity. I was amazed at how well my subconscious was portraying Edward. He looked so real - apart from his insanely green eyes. I decided I didn't like it. I didn't care if it was my subconscious's way of helping me deal with things or whatever. Edward had no business being in my dreams.

"Why are you here?" I asked, even though I knew I wasn't going to get a real answer. How was dream-Edward supposed to know why he was here? Or maybe he would know, just becausehe was dream-Edward? This was all so confusing.

"I couldn't sleep."

His answer confused me. It shouldn't have surprised me, though, since dreams rarely made sense. I decided to just roll with it to see where this dream was heading. Maybe I could learn something. I let whatever thought came into my mind, leave through my mouth. This would be the first, and probably only, time that I could speak with Edward without any barriers.

It's like that exercise that psychologists want you to do - the empty chair. You speak to an empty chair, pretending that the person you are upset with is sitting in it, and you can lash out and say anything you ever wanted to say to that person. Blow off some serious steam. This was just like that, only that my empty chair wasn't empty. I could still see Edward, even though he wasn't really there.

I could definitely benefit from this, even if it was just a dream.

"You're here… because you can't sleep? So you figured that 'hey, if I can't sleep, then neither can the Goose'?" Edward winced slightly. I wondered what I had said that caused such a reaction from him, but then I remembered it wasn't really Edward. Nothing I had said had caused any reaction from the real Edward. I took a deep breath and continued my rant. "You told me a million times that you don't care about me and that I mean nothing to you. I'm a waste of space and I'm better off dead, right? But still you come up to me at school, asking me where I've been for the past two days… then you give me shit for even being there in the first place, just because I happened to be in the hallway during class… what's your damage, Edward? Why can't you just leave me alone?"

It frustrated the hell out of me that I would never get the answers to my questions. I was talking to myself and not the real Edward. He was just a manifestation of my subconscious. Somehow, I thought this would make it easier. To get everything out and ask the questions that had plagued my mind ever since that morning, when he asked me where I had been. But it didn't make it easier, quite the opposite really; it just frustrated me even more.

Why did he ask if he really didn't care?

He averted his gaze and looked down at his shoes instead, while fiddling with the hem of his jacket. I wondered if that particular tick was another attribute that my subconscious had given him. The real Edward didn't have any nervous ticks.

"Because it fucking meant something, alright?" he muttered, and I could just barely make out the words. What was he talking about? I sighed and turned to stare at the ceiling instead.

How long I had wished for someone to tell me I meant something. That what I did mattered. That someone would notice if I went missing, and that it would mean something if I did.

"Do you know why I like you, Edward?" I asked.

"Like me? You don't like me," he argued and I couldn't help but laugh. At least my subconscious knew me well enough to know that.

"Yeah, I don't like you. I just meant that I like the fact that you're the only constant in my life…"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked, it almost sounded like he thought it was an insult.

"It means that… people change, all the time, for no good reason… they love you, then they stab you… they hate you, then they wanna help you… but you, Edward… you're the same all the time. And I like that. It's nice having something constant to hold on to… even if it means being called a bird's name every now and again… it's the constant things in your life that keep you sane. You didn't let the accident change you… and I think that's a good thing."

The words blurred together in my head, but I knew in my heart that I meant every word. People changed every day for no reason at all. Like Mom. She changed without a reason, or if there was a reason, it was still unknown to me. Everyone changed. Everyone but Edward.

Edward had integrity; he didn't change because society expected him to. He was true to his character and I envied him for it. He was strong in himself and he didn't do things that he didn't want to do. He didn't let people push him around.

I wish I had his strength.

"What about you?" he asked me quietly and I turned to look at him again.

"What about me?" I echoed while silently wondering why he suddenly looked so sad.

"Did you change after the accident?" he prompted.

What a good question, dear subconscious.

"I… I don't know… I don't think I did… I didn't change… but all the people around me sure did. I'm still the same old Goose. No one important."

For some reason, he cringed again.

"You really believe that? That you're not important?" he asked. I guess my subconscious didn't like it when I told it as it was, or said something that made me appear worthless – even though I was. My subconscious must have known the words to be true, or else I wouldn't have uttered them. I had accepted the truth a long time ago, so why didn't my subconscious agree with me? Maybe it was in denial.

A subconscious in denial… that's rich.

I looked at Edward for a moment before laughing humorlessly.

"Are you kidding? You, of all people, should know the answer to that… of course I'm not important. I'm a waste of space, remember?" I felt myself growing angry and frustrated with myself. Why did my subconscious push me like this? I didn't matter! People had proven that to me over and over again. Why was that so hard for it to accept?

Edward left the chair by the window and walked over to the bed. He looked like a man on a mission, like he had something really important to tell me. Something big.

He looked at me with those green eyes of his and tilted his head a little. Something changed in his eyes just then; the resolve of being on a mission disappeared.

"What happened to your arms?" he asked out of nowhere.

My eyes widened. I immediately went to grab the sleeves on my shirt, but there were no sleeves to grab. I once again found myself dressed in a short sleeved hospital gown, but this time I had no bandages covering my arms, hiding away my scars. They were on display for everyone to see.

Why, dear subconscious, why?

I quickly crossed my arms over my torso and wondered why I even bothered. My subconscious knew that there was nothing in this world that I was more ashamed of than my scars, so why did I bother hiding them? Was I supposed to face my fears and shames, was that the point of this whole dream?

I didn't care if Edward wasn't really here, but the mere thought of him seeing my scars made my skin prickle. My scars were my shame, my stigma, and they were not meant for anybody else to see, not even in a dream. I didn't want to see them or expose them to even myself, so why was I tormenting myself with a dream like this? What good could come of it?

It wasn't even a dream anymore. It was a nightmare.

"Nothing," I muttered to him.

I didn't care what the point of the dream was anymore. At that point I just wanted it to be over. It was getting uncomfortable. I was hearing things and thinking things that I wasn't comfortable with.

"I didn't look like nothing to me," he said casually and I glared at him. Dream-Edward was no better than the real Edward. They both kept pressing issues they had no business pressing.

"My father is going to kill you when he finds out you were here," I said, even though it made no sense at all. Was I suggesting that Dad was supposed to kill Edward for appearing in my dream? Yeah. Sure. That wouldn't make me look crazy at all.

"I think my own father will beat him to the punch," he replied with an amused shaking of his head, and the sad part was that he was probably right. If Edward ever did something to me, or if I ever claimed he did, Dr. Cullen would probably end up hurting Edward before my dad even got the chance to load his shotgun.

"Why are you here, Edward?" I whispered. I was hoping my subconscious would be kind enough to tell me what the point of him being there was. Why Edward? Why not Emmett? Emmett would have made more sense.

A million emotions flashed in his eyes and I could see something crumble. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

"Because I fucking changed…" he whispered back. His voice was raw with emotions that I didn't understand and I didn't know what to make of it. I reached for his hand, to give it a squeeze and as soon as our skins touched I felt myself being jolted back to the real world.

Reality hit me like a bucket of ice-water being dumped over my head.

I'm not dreaming.

This was real. Edward was really here. He wasn't just a figment of my imagination. The drugs must have messed me up even more than I thought.

I smiled sadly at him and wondered how anything would ever be okay now.

"That's okay," I whispered back. I was barely able to get the words out. The realization of him really being here was too overwhelming and I didn't know what to make of it all. This made even less sense now than when I thought it was a dream.

A dream… a nightmare…

I could swear my heart almost stopped beating.

Edward had seen my scars.

The real Edward, and not just a dream version of him. My biggest weakness and shame had been exposed for him to see and for him to judge. Edward was the last person on earth that I would ever want to have seen my scars, and now that he had, I could never take it back.

He had gained ammunition that he could use to bring me down. He could use the scars against me in the cruelest of ways. And he doesn't even know it.

"I'm not constant," he whispered back, and it almost sounded like an apology. I chuckled quietly and humorlessly to myself, while biting down on my bottom lip. He was still constant. He just didn't know it and I wasn't about to tell him, either.

"That's okay too," I whispered back.

He smiled crookedly and it reminded me of the way he used to smile at all the girls at school. He used that particular smile to get into their pants. He knew the powers that smile possessed. Although, while it was the same smile he gave them, it was still different. He wasn't smiling at me like that because he wanted to get into my pants – because he had no interest in my lady parts, I doubted he even realized I was a girl – he smiled because… maybe he felt the connection too?

The connection that showed him that we weren't that different from each other after all.

We were both broken but in different ways. Ours parents didn't understand us, and from the looks of it, none of them wanted to either. We were on our own in all of this, no one who was supposed to be on either of our sides were. Our families had turned their backs on us, betraying us. They didn't understand us because they didn't want to listen to what we had to say, and the little they did listen to they simply did not believe. They didn't realize how broken we were because of them. They broke us, without even realizing it.

However, it didn't matter how broken we both were. I would never be comfortable with him knowing about my scars. We might have shared a connection with our broken similarities, but that wasn't enough to keep him from using my past as ammunition to hurt me. Edward was constant, and if he knew exactly how those cuts came to be, then he would have all the ammunition he needed to push me to the point of no return.

But I would never let him get that far.

I'd learned from my past mistakes to never let anyone come to close to me ever again. Edward might have gained ammunition, but he still didn't have the gun to use it with. He didn't know what he had stumbled across, and that made me feel a little safer. As long as I kept my mouth shut about myself, then I would be okay.

Edward might be a cocky son of a bitch to the rest of the world, but to me, he was nothing but a scared little boy who had just found out that Santa wasn't real. My perfect bubble had burst a long time ago, and I had come to accept it. Now it was Edward's turn.

"What time is it?" I asked quietly, my voice just an octave away from being a whisper.

He glanced at his expensive looking watch, turning his wrist a little so the moonlight was reflected on the glass.

"Almost four…" he said, his eyes widening a little bit. "Shit." He looked up at me. "I shouldn't fucking be here." He pulled his hand back and I let my hand linger by my side for a moment, before hugging my arm to my torso again.

"You're right… you have no reason to be here," I replied without looking at him.

"This is fucked up," he said and I nodded.

"I agree," I replied simply, because he was right. This was fucked up.

Probably even more than he realized.

He started pacing back and forth, dragging his hands through his hair while doing so. I gnawed on my lip, silently deciding that my hands were very interesting and that I should study them instead of looking at Edward.

"What did you tell my dad?" he asked, still pacing. "Did you tell him it was Tanya?"

"Yeah, I did. My memory might be a little hazy, but I know it wasn't you," I replied quietly.

He stopped pacing. I felt his eyes on me, but I didn't look up.

"How are you feeling? Besides being high as a fucking kite?" he asked and I could tell he was only half-joking. I smiled sadly and bit down on my lip even harder, suddenly it was so much harder to get any words out. All because I knew it wasn't a dream anymore. All my words would have some kind of consequence.

"You don't need to act like you care," I said with a calm and quiet voice. "We both know you're not here in the middle of the night because you wanted to see how I was doing. You were here to make sure I wouldn't rat you out…"

He didn't answer me, but I could still feel him staring at me. Ever so slowly, and ever so reluctantly, I looked up at him and met his gaze. He was frowning and his green eyes were more livid than ever.

"If I was afraid you would rat me out, then I would have threatened you or hurt you before we even left the hallway," he replied with a clipped tone. I guess he had been waiting for me to look at him before he answered. "What Tanya did was fucked up." He got that right. He sighed and dragged his hand through his hair again; it almost looked like he wanted to pull it all out. "What the hell happened, anyway? Why the hell did you pass out like that? I thought you fucking died or some shit!"

It almost sounded like he was accusing me of something, as if I had passed out on purpose. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. Edward was just that kind of guy that needed someone to blame for things that happened, and this situation was no different. Although, we both knew who was to blame for this particular mess, and that was Tanya.

Blame is a funny thing…

"The pain was pretty bad. But Dr. Cullen said it had more to do with the psychological side of things than it did with the physical," I replied quietly.

"I have no fucking idea what that means," he sighed and threw out his arms dramatically.

I smiled weakly at his antics, but decided that I didn't want to elaborate further. I knew what Dr. Cullen had meant, but I wasn't in the mood for sharing that with Edward. Edward had no business knowing my business. What happened with me this afternoon ran deeper than just a push from Tanya. It ran almost as deep as my scars.

He kept staring at me with that exasperated look in his eyes and I sighed.

"It means that it was psychological, okay?" I snapped, feeling frustrated because he refused to leave well enough alone.

"What? You passed out because you… you went crazy?" he asked incredulously, misinterpreting my words completely. "Your brain couldn't handle the crazy anymore, is that what you're saying? You're fucking insane?"

He sounded genuinely upset at the thought of me being crazy. It baffled me, but I didn't know what was more baffling, the fact that he had the nerve to call me crazy, since he was the one sneaking into a hospital at four in the morning to visit a girl he hates, or the fact that he sounded so upset about the whole thing. I didn't know what to say or do in response to that, so I settled with just staring at him.

"Is that it? You're fucking insane?" he said again when I didn't answer. "Is that why you don't talk to people at school? Why you always keep to yourself and why you have those scars? You're insane?"

He kept repeating that word over and over again, and it angered me. Who was he to judge me? I had baggage, yes, but I was not insane. Not even close.

"No," I replied with the same clipped tone that he had used earlier. "I'm not insane."

"Then what the hell was it all about?" he asked.

"Edward, it's four in the morning… Why can't you just leave me alone?" I sighed deeply.

"What's with those scars?" he asked again, ignoring my question completely. I really needed him to leave now. His inability to keep away from the sensitive subjects was starting to wear on me.

"Leave. Me. Alone," I hissed. "Or I'll scream."

He cocked an eyebrow and snorted quietly.

"You won't scream," he replied coolly.

"You wanna bet?" I challenged. He opened his mouth – probably to do just that – but closed it back up without saying a word. I smiled humorlessly at him and nodded. "Didn't think so."

"What's the big deal?" he asked after a moments of silence. There was no hostility in his voice, just raw curiosity. "They're just scars."

If someone had told me two weeks ago… hell, if someone had told me an hour ago that Edward would be visiting me in the middle of the night asking questions about me, I would have questioned their sanity. And if they would have told me that he would sound genuinely curious while doing so, I would have politely asked them to take their crazy pill and leave me the hell alone.

But nobody had told me this so I wasn't prepared for this at all. Why did Edward seem to care all of a sudden? Maybe he had noticed that he had struck a nerve the first time he asked about them, so now he couldn't let the topic go until he found out the truth about them. Maybe he knew he had struck a goldmine.

Well, no such luck, Mr. Cullen.

"It's not a big deal," I lied and tried to keep my voice steady, so he wouldn't catch on.

"Yeah, right," he muttered and went to stand by the window. "If someone cut me like that, I would have fucking cut their throats." His voice was quiet, as if he was talking to himself, but it was loud enough for me to hear. His words left me paranoid. Did he know something? Had Dr. Cullen told him about them?

He must have known that I had heard him, because he threw me a look over his shoulder and smirked lazily. "What did they try to do to you anyway, make you the Thanksgiving turkey?" He chuckled darkly at his joke, but it sounded forced and awkward even to me.

"I think you should leave now," I said. I was barely able to keep my voice steady. He couldn't have been stupid enough to not realize he was pushing it. "I'll promise you that I will scream bloody murder if you don't leave."

"Yeah? And what's the worst thing that can happen? Your dad getting a fucking restraining order against me? Oh wait, that's already happening!" he replied and turned fully towards me. "But you're right, I should fucking leave. I don't even know why the hell I came here. I must be losing my fucking mind or some shit…"

"Maybe you're the one who's insane," I said. I couldn't help it, but it needed to be said. "And what do you mean 'restraining order'? Restraining order for what?" He gave me a look that suggested I was stupid – as well as crazy.

"Because our dads are under the impression that I was the one who fucking put you here, okay? And your dad thinks that it's a great fucking idea to put a restraining order on my ass because I was trying to fucking help you," he snapped.

"How is tha-" I was cut off by a sudden light and I had to squint my eyes. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust and I realized that someone had flipped the light switch.

Edward and I stared at each other for a moment; my horror was mirrored in his eyes. We both slowly turned our gazes, almost in sync, towards the door, finding ourselves staring at a short, middle-aged nurse. She was staring back at us in bewilderment and I fought hard to come up with something to say. My mind was drawing a blank and I felt my throat close up.

I didn't understand my reaction. Why was I getting all panicky over this? Edward was the one who shouldn't be here. I couldn't get in trouble for this. I was safe. This was my room. Edward was the one in trouble now.

"And what do you think you're doing here, young man?" the nurse asked with a stern voice.

Edward looked at me, and I could see panic flash in his eyes. I suddenly felt sorry for him. He would get in so much trouble when his dad – and my dad – found out that he had been here. He might have been pushing it by coming here at this hour, but he did help me out earlier. He helped me and stayed with me after Tanya pushed me. He didn't have to do that, but he did. Maybe it was my time to return the favor. Save him like he saved me.

"He… ehh…he was just…" I stuttered. My mind was completely blank and I couldn't come up with a reason at all as to why he was there. What reason in the world would be good enough to explain why he was there in the middle of the night?

"I'm her… boyfriend," he said in my place, his right eye twitching as he said the word. I shot my eyes to him in shock and he gave me a look that clearly said 'shut up', as he grabbed my hand. "I just wanted to see her and make sure she was doing okay. I… eh… missed her and I was worried and I couldn't sleep and I-"

"Yeah, I got it," the nurse cut him off. Her expression a little softer now and not as stern. "But Miss Swan needs her rest. You may visit her again during visiting hours tomorrow."

"Oh… okay," Edward said, scratching his neck with his free hand. "You're not gonna tell anyone, are you?" He shuffled his feet, looking oddly bashful. The nurse smiled and shook her head.

"I've been young; I know how love can make you do stupid things. I'll let you off the hook this time, but if I see you here again in the middle of the night, I will have to report it," she scolded, but the seriousness behind her words was tarnished by her amused smile.

"Yes, of course," he said, shooting her a dazzling smile that would bring even the most prudish of girls to their knees. "May I have a moment with Sw- Isabella before I go?"

"Don't stay too long," she chided, before leaving the room.

We listened carefully to the sound of her footsteps disappearing down the hallway. Neither of us dared to even breathe until we were sure that she was gone.

I breathed out in relief and looked away from the door, realizing that I was still holding Edward's hand. I pulled it back quickly and he looked a little startled by the movement.

"What the hell was that?" I hissed at him.

"What? Did you want me to get into trouble or something?" he hissed back. "I'm in deep enough shit as it is. I don't need to add this shit too!" His bashful act from a moment ago was gone in an instant.

"If you didn't want to get into trouble then maybe you shouldn't have come!" I said angrily. "You can't honestly believe that coming here at four in the morning wasn't a risk. It's like asking for trouble."

"Fuck you," he snarled. I raised an eyebrow at him, but kept my mouth shut. "I'm obviously deranged from sleep deprivation; I'm not in my right mind. Hell, I'm probably even more fucked up than you are from your meds."

"Yes, obviously," I replied coolly. "So why don't you go home and sleep it off and we can pretend that this little rendezvous never happened."

He gave me an once-over, before nodding once.

"You got it, Penguin," he agreed. "This never happened."

"Penguin?" I echoed.

"Yeah, penguin. They're like you… they walk funny and they have a hard time getting up when they fall… and they look stupid doing it," he replied with a dark chuckle, as he walked over to the door.

"Wow, Edward, just… wow," I said, giving him a slow motion applause. "Here you had me believing that maybe, just maybe, you had a heart. But then you go and say something as stupid as that. What the hell is wrong with you? Couldn't you save your insults at least until I was out of the hospital? And if you want to keep insulting me with bird names, maybe you should steer clear of the cute ones."

His lips twisted into a sad, crooked smile as he turned his head to me.

"Yeah, maybe I should. But where's the fun in that?" he asked.

Then he was gone.

x x x x x

I woke up the next morning in a daze. I felt disoriented and it took me a moment before I even remembered where I was. Last night felt like a dream, and I wasn't really sure if it even happened. The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that it really had been all just a dream.

"Good morning, Isabella, did you have a good night sleep?"

I turned my head towards the door, expecting to see Dr. Cullen waltz into the room. But it wasn't Dr. Cullen, it was some other doctor that I had never seen before.

The doctor was a man in his fifties, with dark brown hair with a few grey streaks in it. The streaks looked fake, as if he put them there on purpose to look more 'mature' or something. His skin was almost orange due to his spray-on tan, and when he smiled at me, I was almost blinded by the whiteness of his teeth.

Who does he think he is? Dr. 90210?

I immediately decided I did not like this man.

The way he was smiling suggested that he was very impressed with himself. I could only imagine the conversation he was having inside his head at that moment.

"'Oh, I'm so awesome. The chicks loves that I look like a carrot. My ridiculously white teeth aren't at all the cause as for why all my patients are suddenly in dire need of a laser-eye surgery.'"

I glanced at the name-tag on his chest and frowned a little.

Jason Jenks. Why did that sound so familiar?

I didn't even bother to respond to his smile. I don't think he even noticed anyway, since he kept on smiling to himself as he noted something on my chart. It looked like he was enjoying some inside joke or something, or maybe he was just reminding himself about how awesome he was.

"Did you get any sleep at all? I hope your visitor didn't keep you up too long…" he continued with a teasing tone. I felt the blood rush from my face and was replaced by dread.

This was not good.

He looked up from the chart, still with that somewhat cocky smile and a twinkle in his eyes. His bright white teeth made the skin on his face look even more orange. It made me want to puke, and the dread only added to the nausea.

"Oh, don't be embarrassed, Isabella," he chuckled. "I overheard a couple of nurses talking. One of them mentioned that she caught you and your boyfriend here last night." He paused to chuckle some more, and I wanted nothing more than to sink through the bed and through the floor, disappearing into nothingness. Getting teased about a pretend boyfriend by a guy who looked like a carrot. This was beyond humiliating.

"Yeah, boyfriend…" I muttered as I twisted my finger together in my lap.

"Maybe you should tell him that he's welcome to visit you during visiting hours and not in the middle of the night," he continued as if the situation wasn't uncomfortable enough. "I hope he takes good care of you. I'm sure a girl like you has a lot of-"

"Where is Dr. Cullen?" I said, effectively cutting him off. I wasn't sure if it was a conscious act on his part or not, but he sounded so condescending when he spoke to me, like I was a five-year old who had just found a boy who wasn't afraid of her cooties. I guess that was what made me snap. I had taken enough crap in my life. I didn't need Dr. Carrot to add to the pile.

A muscle underneath his eyes twitched at the mention of Dr. Cullen, but his smile never faltered.

"Why, I'm sorry, I assumed someone told you," he said, again with that tone that suggested I was five years old. "He's no longer assigned to you. I will take over from here."

"Wait… what? Why?" I asked confused. Dr. Cullen might not have been my favorite person in the world, but I would rather have him as a doctor than this man. Especially since Dr. Cullen was already aware of some of my issues, and the less people that knew about that the better.

Plus, he didn't look like a carrot.

"I'm sure your dad will explain it all to you when he gets here," he replied. His bored tone did nothing to hinder him from smiling. He continued talking about something else, but I wasn't hearing a word of it. My mind was spinning with the different possibilities as to why this was happening. Why Dr. Cullen was no longer my doctor.

Dr. Jenks did his doctor thing, by checking my reflexes and making me wiggle my toes on my broken leg, and then asking me to rate the pain. The pain was bad, but also manageable. Though, that was probably due to the drugs that I'd been given by the nurses, that Dr. Cullen had authorized. Dr. Cullen hadn't seemed to have had any issues giving me medication as long as I was in the hospital, and I had planned to milk that cow for all I was worth. I didn't even consider the thought of saving them up for later, right now all I could think about was survive another moment without pain.

Maybe now, with a new doctor and all, I would be able to score some other pills too, pills that I could save up and use later.

Dr. Jenks must have noticed that I wasn't really paying any attention to what he was saying, because he left the room without a word when he was done with his exam. I guess he wasn't used to having patients ignore him.

I wasn't alone for long, though. Only a couple of minutes later, there was a knock on the door again. And when I looked up, I was surprised to see Dr. Cullen standing there. He smiled timidly as he stepped inside.

"Mind if I come in?" he asked.

"It's your hospital," I replied coolly and he chuckled lightly.

"This may be my workplace, but it's hardly my hospital. And you are not my patient," he said as he sat down on the edge of my bed.

"Yeah, Dr. Carrot told me," I replied. "What he didn't tell me was why…"

Dr. Cullen took a deep breath and his shoulders slumped as the air left his lungs.

"Your dad asked me to step aside. He's not comfortable with me treating you, since he's taking legal actions against Edward," he replied with a soft tone, with no trace of anger in his voice.

The anger began to rise in me, however, as I processed his words.

My dad did this? What legal actions? The restraining order?

Dad had gone insane. There was no other explanation as to why he was acting like this. Why would he put a restraining order against a boy who was just as much a victim as I was? Was he really that blind? Was he really looking so hard to find someone to blame, to make himself feel better after being such a lousy father to me, that he was willing to take it out on an innocent boy? What was his damage?

"Edward visited you last night, didn't he," Dr. Cullen said without making it sound like a question. The statement caught me completely off guard, and I didn't know what I was supposed to respond to that.

Was it a trick question?

I gnawed on my lip and took my time before answering – because I simply didn't know what I was supposed to say in response to that. This wasn't freaking rocket science. It shouldn't have been that hard to just squeeze out a 'no' or a 'yes', but it was, since either one felt like a trap.

If I said no, he would know I was lying and then he would jump to conclusions and think that Edward had made me lie about it. If I said yes, he would ask me what he wanted and jump to conclusions and think Edward came to hurt me.

There was no way of winning this one. I was screwed either way, as was Edward.

In the end, I guess Dr. Cullen didn't even need me to respond.

"What did Edward want?" he asked, his smile completely vanishing. He still didn't sound angry or irritated; he merely sounded tired, as if he wasn't surprised that it had come to this.

"Who said he was even here?" I asked with a casual shrug, even though I knew it was no use. There was no reason for me to pretend I didn't know what he was talking about, but I felt obligated to try anyway.

Edward didn't have anyone who stood up for him anymore. Everybody was just assuming the worst as far as he was concerned. It would have been easy for me to be that someone, who had his back, even though I didn't like the guy. After all, I knew firsthand how it felt to be betrayed by the ones you love, and feel that there was no one there for you anymore. Did I wish that on Edward? No, I didn't wish that on anybody. Not even that douche.

I had to try to protect Edward.

He had been right. He had enough crap on his plate right now as it was. Whatever I said next could set fire to that pile of crap, and nothing good would come of it. And when that fire had burned out, all that would be left would be us, regretting all the decisions that led us there.

While smelling like crap.

Edward had come to me in the middle of the night for a reason. He might have told me it was because he couldn't sleep, but we both knew that wasn't the case. The fact that kept him from falling asleep in the first place was probably the reason why he came.

I just didn't know what that particular reason was.

Edward had inner demons; it was obvious that he did. He was just very good at pretending they weren't there and that everything was just peachy. Denial was a river that ran deep in Edward, and maybe he was finally realizing that.

"This isn't the time for games, Isabella," Dr. Cullen sighed exasperatedly.

"I'm not playing any games," I replied. "I just asked you, who said anything about him."

"I caught him this morning when he came home. He didn't tell me where he had been, but I suspected he had been here… and the way you just avoided the question proves my suspicions to be correct," he replied, almost sounding a little smug while doing so. He quirked an eyebrow at me, silently challenging me to tell him that he was wrong. At that moment, I could see the resemblance between him and his son. They both had that same look of challenge. It almost made me smile.

"You don't have to protect him," he continued seriously, "if he hurt you in any way, you have to tell me. He may be my son, but I don't agree with the way he has been handling things lately. With everything that is going on right now, I need to know what he's up to."

"I told you before; Edward did nothing wrong! He helped me! It was Tanya who pushed me. It was a good thing Edward was there when it happened, or else I would have been laying there in that hallway for God knows how long before anyone noticed," I argued, feeling frustrated beyond belief. Why couldn't he just listen to what I was saying already? He had told me I could talk to him, but how was I supposed to do that when he didn't want to listen? Or was the offer to listen out the window now, since he wasn't my doctor anymore?

Dr. Cullen's gaze softened immediately, and he looked almost sad now. Sad and tired. I didn't even want to know what this whole ordeal was doing to him. How was it even possible for him to treat the girl that his own son had maimed, while still being a professional about it? Although, he wasn't being a professional about it. He had showed me time and time again that he was anything but objective when it came to my health. He was picking my side over his son's, and that was why I chose not to like him and why I didn't trust him. Nobody who picked a stranger over their own flesh and blood deserved my trust.

That was a lesson I had been taught the hard way, and I guess Dr. Cullen reminded me of both my parents in a way. He reminded me of my mother by picking a stranger over his own flesh and blood, and he reminded me of my father by refusing to listen and thinking that they knew best, that nothing anybody could say would sway them from the believing what they thought was the truth.

Maybe it was a good thing he wasn't my doctor anymore.

"You should calm down. Your body has been under a lot of stress, and it will do you no good getting worked up like this," he said and I had to resist the urge to throw my pillow at him. If he didn't want me to get worked up like this, then maybe he should listen to what I was saying instead of making up his own stories.

He sighed deeply and glanced at my leg, a small smile forming on his lips when he looked at the bear that Emmett had drawn. He stood up from the bed and smiled gently at me.

"How's the pain?" he asked.

"Manageable," I replied.

"Good." He nodded. "I should leave now, but remember I'm here if you want to talk about anything, anything at all… even if it's about Edward." He gave me a pointed look, which I ignored, before leaving the room.

After that morning's surprising turn of events and changing of doctors, spending another day in the hospital turned out to be a drag. The TV in my room was broken and I had no books or magazines to read. I spent a few hours literally just staring out into space, silently pondering what the hell I had done in this life, or maybe my past life, to deserve all this crap. Karma was a bitch, they say, but I didn't think I had done anything to deserve this… right?

"Isabella, my Bella, Bobella!" I was caught totally off guard by Emmett bursting through the door with the energy of a hundred hyperactive kids. I would have been afraid of him if he hadn't been grinning from ear to ear. Alice walked in behind him with Jasper in tow.

Emmett kept his grin in place as he plopped down on the bed by my feet. Alice was smiling timidly and Jasper showed no emotion at all. He just stood there awkwardly by the door, his back straight and his hands clasped in front of him.

Jasper would make a good soldier… at least he looks the part.

Alice stepped up to me and put her huge handbag on the bed. She began ruffling through it until she found what she was looking for. She picked up her sparkly pink pen case and smiled brightly at me.

"Can I continue my work?" she asked and nodded towards the cast. I sighed and shrugged.

"Knock yourself out," I muttered.

Alice squealed in delight and walked around to the other side and pulled out a chair, before sitting down and starting her work. Having visitors might not have been on the top of my wish list, but at least it gave me something to do and it killed some time.

Jaspers presence made me uncomfortable, especially since it was obvious that he didn't want to be there. His face may not have shown any emotions, but displeasure was rolling off of him in waves. It was impossible not to be affected by it.

"So…" Alice began, trying to sound casual, "what happened yesterday?"

I glanced at her, but she did not meet my gaze. She was looking intently at the cast as she drew…a little too intently for me to be fooled by her casual demeanor. Alice was a terrible actress.

"Are we really doing this?" I asked skeptically. Neither of them said anything and I sighed. "Tanya pushed me. I fell. I passed out. Edward helped me. Emmett found us. I was brought here. End of story," I rambled monotonically. I saw how the flowing movement of Alice's hand, drawing on my cast, faltered a little. I glanced at Emmett, wondering if he was going to argue with me on this one, since he was so hot to blame Edward after it happened.

"Did Edward make you say that?" Emmett asked cautiously, not surprising me at all with his question.

"What do you think?" I asked as I looked him straight in the eyes.

"I… I mean…eh…" he stuttered and looked to Jasper for support.

"Told you," Jasper replied quietly from his place by the door.

"I guess he didn't," Emmett replied with a sigh as he turned back to me. That answer, however, surprised me, and against my better judgment, I looked over at Jasper. He must have sensed my confusion, because he smirked lazily as he met my gaze.

"Edward is a douche, we all know that. But pushing chicks around in hallways is below him. He doesn't hurt chicks, other than breaking their hearts," he replied with a dark chuckle, without moving an inch from where he stood.

"If that's true, what you're saying, then I don't get why the hell you're not blaming him… you know you could ruin his life by lying and saying it was him, right?" Emmett said, and I chuckled humorlessly at that comment.

"Why would I want to ruin his life?" I asked.

"He ruined yours," he replied simply. I shook my head softly.

"No, he didn't," I argued quietly. "We were both just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I wasn't talking about that fucking accident," Emmett replied with a frown on his face. "I was talking about the way he's been treating you since then. He's been a bigger douche than ever before, and I don't fucking get how you can be okay with that."

"Because that's the way he's chosen to deal with this whole mess," I replied, feeling irritated that Emmett didn't understand his own brother. "If making fun of me, and making my life in school miserable, makes him feel better…then let him."

"I never would have pegged you to be the masochistic type," Alice murmured, without tearing her eyes from the cast and her work. I didn't argue with her on that one, because I couldn't help but wonder if what she said was true.

Was I being masochistic for letting Edward get away with the way he had been treating me, over the past couple of weeks, without any repercussions whatsoever? Or was I merely recognizing he was in pain, and letting him use me as an outlet for said pain?

The thought lingered with me for the remainder of the day, and it was thoughts of Edward that kept me from falling asleep. I watched how the sun set and the world outside got darker. The streetlights came on and the moon graced me with its presence.

A nurse came in around midnight to give me some pills for the pain and to help me relax, but there was no use. My mind was not up for a nap right now. As the pain in my leg lessened, it gave my mind new room to ponder all the questions I had.

I looked out the window; the sky was almost as clear from clouds this night as it had been the night before. It was beautiful, really…

The room was momentarily lit up when the door opened, and the light from the hallway flowed in before the door closed again. I didn't need to turn my head from the window to know who had entered.

Edward moved around the bed and brought the chair from the window closer to the bed. He looked at me and his eyes were once again almost magically green in the moonlight. He picked something up out of his back pocket and held it up for me to see.

"I brought a pen," he said and I couldn't help the smile that formed on my face.