Chapter 27: Fear, Awakenings, and Sleep

The room was still, save for the soft, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. The sound was meant to be comforting, but every tick grated on my nerves, reminding me that Faye was still unconscious. Carlisle had us move her upstairs into his in-house clinic. He assured me that her condition was stable, but I couldn't bring myself to relax. Not while she was like this.

Alice charged for my phone for me and they asked me to give Charlie a call or text to let him know I was still sick. Apparently, that's what they told him to cover for me when I was in the woods and Carlisle had even written me a doctor's note excusing me from school. Charlie wanted to come and check on me but Carlisle told him that I was sleeping and contagious and I didn't want him catching it—something I was relieved about. It would be easier to explain being sick than what happened in the last week.

My sudden remembrance of Charlie made me feel a pang of guilt. He must have been so worried, Taking out my phone, I saw the missed calls from him. The signal must have been too weak in the dense forest.

When he finally picked up, I could hear the worry in his voice, and I reassured him that I was getting better and would be home soon. I apologized for making him worry and told him Alice had brought over the schoolwork I'd missed, promising to catch up on it when I felt better. I told him I was in good hands with Dr. Cullen. When he asked why I hadn't answered his calls, I told him my phone had died, but now that I was feeling better, I finally had the energy to charge it again. He told me he was happy that I was feeling better and made me promise to call him again which I did.

Once I hung up, I turned my focus back to Faye, waiting for any sign of improvement. I had lost track of time—had it been days or just hours? It didn't matter. I wasn't leaving her side, not until I knew, for sure, that she was going to be okay.

I had barely slept, catching moments of rest in the chair beside her or leaning against the bed with my head on the mattress. Every time I closed my eyes, I'd wake in a panic, heart racing, terrified that something had changed while I slept.

But nothing changed.

Faye stayed the same.

I sat on the edge of the bed, eyes locked on Faye's face as she lay there, so still, so pale. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, the only sign that she was still with me. The blankets were tucked lightly around her, I could see the outline of Ivy's tail still peeking from beneath the fabric.

Esme brought meals to the room every day—sandwiches, fruit, soup—but they all went untouched. Sometimes she would sit with me, her kind eyes full of concern, but I couldn't bring myself to speak. What was there to say? Nothing would make me feel better. Not until Faye woke up.

I had tried to eat at first, but the thought of food turned my stomach. Every time I took a bite, my throat closed up, and I couldn't swallow. How could I eat when she was lying there, not knowing when she would be okay or wake up? I couldn't. So I stopped trying.

Occasionally, I could hear someone shuffling outside the door or moving around downstairs, but I didn't care. My focus remained solely on Faye. Every slight movement she made, every soft sound, filled me with hope that was the moment she would wake up.

Carlisle came in often, checking Faye's vitals, adjusting her IV, and quietly offering reassurances. "She's getting stronger," he'd say. "Her body just needs time to heal." But every time he said that it felt like a cruel joke. Every minute that passed felt like I was one step closer to losing her.

I couldn't lose her.

Not Faye. Not Ivy. Not my sisters...

Speaking of Ivy, I haven't heard from her no matter how many times I've called her name. She must be in deep sleep or resting, likely because she's been absorbing some of Faye's exhaustion and trying to relieve her pain, which has left her drained as well.

There were moments when I would catch a glimpse of movement—her fingers twitching, her eyelids fluttering—but they never lasted. I'd lean in close, whispering her name, begging her to get better or to please wake up, but the moment would pass, and she'd fall back into that haunting stillness making me shed some tears.

It was agonizing.

I reached out, taking Faye's hand in mine, her skin still warm but not with the fever that she had before. I squeezed gently, hoping that somewhere, deep in her subconscious, she could feel me. "I'm here," I whispered, my voice hoarse from days without food and being exhausted. "I'm right here, Faye. I'm not going anywhere."

I brushed my thumb over the back of her hand where her scar was, trying to ignore the weight pressing down on my chest. The room felt too small, too quiet. The silence was suffocating, but I couldn't leave. What if she woke up and I wasn't here?

Or worse.

What if I left and… she never woke up?

I quickly pushed the thought away. Faye was strong. She'd make it through this. She had to.

But as the days dragged on, doubt began to creep in. How much longer could this go on? How much longer could I go on? My body was tired—no, exhausted—and my mind was beginning to hurt overthinking everything that might go wrong, but I couldn't stop. I had to be here. For her. For Ivy.

I rested my head on the bed beside her, my eyes burning from the strain of staying open. My fingers still laced through hers, and I sighed softly, my breath hitching in my throat. "You're going to be okay, Faye," I murmured, more for myself than for her. "You have to be."

Time passed—minutes, hours, I wasn't sure anymore. I lost myself in the rhythm of her breathing, in the soft hum of the machines around us. My eyelids grew heavier, and for a moment, I let them close. Just for a second. Just long enough to—

A slight pressure on my hand jolted me awake. My heart leaped into my throat, and I shot upright, blinking away the sleep that threatened to take over.

Faye's fingers twitched in mine.

I held my breath, watching her face closely. Her brow furrowed slightly, her lips parting as if she were about to say something. My pulse quickened, hope sparking to life in my chest. "Faye?" I whispered, barely daring to believe it.

Her eyelids fluttered, and slowly, agonizingly slowly, her eyes opened. They were unfocused at first, clouded with confusion and exhaustion, but they were open. She was awake.

"Faye?" My voice cracked, thick with emotion. I squeezed her hand gently, trying to ground myself in the moment. "Can you hear me?"

Her gaze drifted toward me, sluggish and dazed. It was clear that she wasn't all there, but there was recognition in her eyes. She blinked slowly, her lips parting as if to speak, but all she managed was a silent mouthing of my name. "Robyn...?"

Tears sprang to my eyes, and I laughed softly, a mixture of relief and disbelief flooding through me. "Yeah, it's me," I said, my voice shaky. "I'm here. I'm right here. We are safe."

Faye's eyes fluttered shut again, but this time it wasn't the same emptiness as before. She was just tired—so, so tired—but she was there. Alive. With me.

I slumped forward, resting my forehead against her hand, my body trembling with the release of everything I'd been holding in. The fear, the exhaustion, the overwhelming relief—it all came crashing down at once, leaving me breathless.

I stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, just holding her hand, letting myself believe that it was finally over. That she was going to be okay.

After a while, the door creaked open, and Esme poked her head in, her eyes softening when she saw my relieved form. She glanced at me, a warm smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "She woke up," she whispered as if saying it too loudly might shatter the fragile moment.

I nodded, unable to find the words. Esme stepped inside, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You should rest now, Bella," she said softly. "You've done enough. Go take a shower, eat, something."

It took me a second to realize she was talking to me. I shook my head and gently squeezed Faye's hand a little tighter. "Not yet," I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath. "I'm not leaving her. Not until she's fully awake."

Esme didn't argue even though it seemed like she wanted to. She just nodded, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before leaving the room again.

And so, I stayed awake.

Because no matter how tired I was, no matter how much my body screamed for rest, I wasn't going to leave Faye's side. Not until I see her eyes open again. Not until I saw that playful smile of hers again, the one that lit up her whole face and made everything feel like it was going to be okay.

I could wait a little longer.

Faye POV

I could hear the beeping of a machine and feel a soft pressure in my hand. The sounds around me felt distant, muffled like I was underwater.

Ivy?

….

Robyn?

No one answered.

That made me a little scared.

What if Edward attacked Robyn?!

What if Robyn never made it to the Cullens and she was out in the woods somewhere… lost?!

My eyelids felt impossibly heavy, but I fought to open them. I had to make sure Robyn was okay. I slowly opened my eyes, squinting against the brightness, the room was so bright, that it took me a while for my eyes to adjust. It was unfamiliar and very white. I could smell sanitizer and cleaning products.

Where am I?

I felt pressure in my hand.

Who?

My gaze drifted to the source of the pressure in my hand, and I saw her—Robyn, sitting beside me, her forehead resting, slightly leaning, on my hand. Her hand clutched mine tightly, her fingers rough against my skin, like she hadn't let go for days. A pang of guilt hit me as I realized how worried she must've been.

I wanted to say something, to let her know I was awake, but my throat felt raw, burning as if I hadn't spoken in days.

I probably haven't.

All I could manage was a soft, hoarse sound, barely audible. It wasn't loud enough. I felt frustrated with my body for betraying me when I needed to reassure her the most.

Instead, I decided to squeeze her hand. It was light and weak, but it got Robyn's attention. Robyn's eyes snapped open. She blinked, as if not believing what she was seeing. I watched the relief flood her face, her eyes softening, brightening with hope.

"Faye?" she whispered, her voice trembling, raw with emotion.

I tried again, forcing the words past the dryness in my throat. "I'm here," I rasped, the sound barely more than a whisper, but this time, it was enough.

Tears welled up in Robyn's eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she squeezed my hand tighter, as if afraid I might slip away again. "Thank God," she breathed, her voice cracking with the weight of everything she'd been holding back. "You're okay… you're finally awake and you're okay."

I wanted to smile, to tell her it was going to be alright, but my throat felt itchy, so I nodded my head. I heard her let out a shaken sigh of relief. I could see her face was pale, she looked like she was exhausted.

She needed sleep.

I carefully scooted over to make room and patted the bed, giving her a pointed look. She seemed confused at first, but then recognition flickered in her eyes. "Faye I don't think-" I cut her off with a glare before patting the bed harder.

There is no way I'm letting her stay up any longer. Who knows how long she has been up? Water can wait. I'm making her a least take a nap if it's the last thing I do!

She let out a tired weary sigh before slowly climbing onto the bed. I guided her down so her head rested gently on my collarbone. As soon as she settled, her eyes began to droop, though I could see she was fighting it. To help her relax, I started to massage her scalp and gently play with her hair.

Her breathing began to even out, and I could feel her body relax against mine. Soon, her resistance gave way to sleep, and her breaths grew deep and steady.

I remained still, holding her close, feeling a surge of relief that she was finally resting. I continued to gently stroke her hair while listening to the footsteps echoing through the house. Hearing people walk around, I couldn't help the sense of protectiveness, causing me to tighten my grip around Robyn and keep a wary eye on the door. I wasn't sure if Edward was in the house, but it didn't matter. If he enters this room or tries to take Robyn away then he better prepare to get limbs taken off!

Suddenly, I felt something brush against my leg which almost made me jump. Taking my eyes away from the door, I gently unwrapped one of my arms from around Robyn, I shifted the blanket to reveal a tail. I was confused because it looked like Ivy's tail. My eyes followed where it led, and to my surprise, it led directly toward my butt.

As I looked closer, I realized that it wasn't going to my butt it was coming out of my tailbone. It felt like an extra arm when I tried to move it around. Frowning in disbelief and confusion, I suddenly felt my hair twitch. I reached up and felt my hair only to find wolf ears.

What is going on?

Not wanting to wake up Robyn, I decided to ask Ivy.

Ivy?

Silence.

Ivy? Are you there?

The usual connection I felt when calling out to her remained frustratingly empty. I closed my eyes, concentrating harder, reaching out mentally for her presence, she was there but seemed up to be in a deep sleep. The silence was unnerving, and for the first time since she arrived, I couldn't hear Ivy at all.

I took a deep breath and reached out mentally once more, calling to Ivy with more urgency.

Ivy, please. I need you.

Panic started to creep in, but I forced myself to remain calm. Something was definitely wrong, but I couldn't afford to let it show, not while Robyn was still sleeping. If Ivy couldn't answer me, I'd have to figure this out on my own, wait until she comes back, or until Robyn wakes up.

I gently shifted Robyn in my arms, pulling the blanket up to cover her. My mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything—the tail, the ears, the lack of response from Ivy. What had happened to me while I was unconscious?

For now, I had to focus on Robyn. She had stayed by my side for who knows how long, neglecting her well-being just to make sure I was okay. I couldn't let my confusion or fear take away from the relief of having her here, safe, in my arms.

I watched her sleep for a few more moments, her face soft and peaceful, the dark circles under her eyes proof of her exhaustion. I would protect her, just like she had protected me. No matter what was happening to me, no matter what came next, I wouldn't let anything harm her.

I settled back against the pillow, closing my eyes as I listened to her steady breathing. There would be time for answers later. For now, I just needed to rest. I wasn't going to sleep fully but just to rest my eyes. And maybe when Robyn woke up later, Ivy would be able to answer me.

The wolf ears flicked at the faintest sounds in the house, heightening my senses and sharpening my awareness of everything around me.

As I closed my eyes, Robyn's soft sighs and the gentle rise and fall of her breathing created a soothing rhythm against me. Her body relaxed completely into sleep, offering a comforting steadiness that calmed the tension that I was holding on to.

I knew there would be drama later but right now this is all I care about. For now, I wanted to cherish this peaceful quiet comfortable moment