The Emotional Education of Edward Cullen - Chapter 2
Title:The Emotional Education of Edward Cullen
Author: Picklewinkle (ff.net)/JCAddict (LJ)
Characters/Pairing: Edward & Bella
Rating: M
Category: Drama/Angst/Romance
Spoilers: None
Summary: Edward Cullen is brilliant and complicated but also closed off and socially inept. Can Bella teach him how to tap into and understand his emotions through an unorthodox experiment without breaking her own heart in the process? AH.
Chapter 2: Personal Confessions In The Emergency Room
DISCLAIMER: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the words, plot and lackluster formatting belong to me.
I wanted to thank everyone at Project Team Beta. I can't say enough good things about the service. It's an invaluable tool and I'm so thankful to have them to work with. A big thank you to my betas for their assistance on this chapter, Angelz1114577 and LightStarDusting.
Thanks for the reviews, guys! It's so great to hear from so many of you that I recognize from Out of Choices and also to see some new names. I appreciate the support.
EPOV
"Don't lay down here. Let me help you get home. My car is just over there."
I pointed toward my car, but Bella had already lain face down. Her skin looked inordinately pale against the dark pavement.
"Take my hand, Bella. I'll help you up."
I offered her my hand, but she didn't respond. I knelt down and brushed the hair from her face.
"Bella, can you hear me?"
Her eyelids fluttered softly, and eventually her eyes opened halfway. There was no recognition in her gaze. In fact, there wasn't much of anything but a blank stare. I had my suspicions about what was going on, but I was trying not to jump to conclusions. It had been a long time since Bella Swan was my friend. I had no idea what sort of person she'd become since then. What I did know was that it wouldn't be right to leave her lying on the pavement of the school parking lot in the middle of the night, especially given her erratic behavior.
"Bella, something is wrong with you. I need to get you to the hospital. Can you walk?"
Her face twisted in confusion as if my words were nonsensical, more evidence that supported my hunch. A few seconds later, her eyes closed again, and I knew I was on my own getting her to the ER.
"Bella, I'm going to pull you up, but you have to help me by walking."
I gently persuaded her hands out from underneath her and pulled her up to her feet. She staggered toward me with an enormous lurch, wobbling unsteadily one way and then the other, before stilling her body against mine in silence. Her eyes were still closed. She didn't seem to have any clue about what was going on around her.
"What did he do to you?" I mumbled under my breath, awkwardly shifting Bella to my right side so I would be able help her walk.
She slipped her arm around my waist, tottering along beside me while I supported her body and urged her forward. I tried not to think of the irony of the situation; it was absurdly familiar, even if the circumstances were drastically different. Once I had Bella in my car, I started for Forks Community Hospital.
~8~
"Yes, I understand you perfectly, but I don't know her health information."
"I understand, Sir, but we can't attend to your friend without proper paperwork." She shoved the clipboard back at me with an indifferent expression. "You'll have to fill these out for her if she can't do it herself."
I glanced over at Bella, slumped sideways in a wheelchair, lips parted and softly snoring, her chest rising and falling shallowly in her slumber.
"Fine," I grumbled, palming the clipboard in annoyance.
If they wanted completed forms, I'd give them completed forms. Whether or not they'd be correct was another story. I wheeled Bella over to a quiet corner of the waiting room and began the questionnaire.
Name: Bella Marie Swan.
Or would that be Isabella? Isabella, I guess.
I scratched out the given name I'd written and smirked as I wrote in her full name, remembering how much she used to hate it.
Address: 321 Main Street, Forks, WA, 98331.
The truth was I'd never been to Bella's house. I didn't have a clue where she lived. I used that address whenever I had to fill out anything online. It was the address of the post office.
Phone number:
I'd felt Bella's cell phone against my thigh while I helped her walk. I retrieved it from her pocket and added the number to the form.
Next of kin: Mr. Swan.
I knew he still worked for the Forks Police Department. I had no sure knowledge what had become of Bella's mother, only rumors.
I tripped my way through the rest of the form, making up information as I went along and using the scant amount I did know to give the best picture I could of Bella's condition. The ER was not very busy, and we were escorted to one of the examination rooms within an hour. The nurse was kind enough to help me get Bella up on to the table. I took the chair adjacent to it and waited for the doctor.
"Where are we?" Bella rasped softly, squinting at the bright white light that shone down at her.
"We're at the hospital," I explained. "The doctor should be in to check on you soon."
"Why do I have to see a doctor?"
"Your behavior is erratic. You're unaware of your surroundings half the time; the other half, you're sleeping."
"Okay."
She dropped back to sleep almost immediately. Bella took my account of the situation more easily than I expected. She used to be more stubborn.
Dr. Brock came in a few minutes later. I described the predicament I'd found Bella in, as well as her behavior and symptoms, and waited patiently while he scribbled down notes on Bella's chart.
"I'm going to order some blood work for her. I don't think she'll have to be admitted, but the tests should confirm that."
He didn't give me any more information than that, but I was betting he had the same suspicions as I did. I always knew Mike was an asshole, but this was low, even for him.
The nurse was very gentle with Bella while drawing her blood, but the needle prick woke her, nevertheless. The nurse tried to assure her that she was fine, but I could sense the turmoil radiating from her. I stepped to the foot of the table and put a hand lightly on Bella's ankle.
"Still don't like needles?" I wondered rhetorically.
Bella smiled shyly at me and shook her head. The nurse took advantage of the distraction and quickly finished up. Bella waited for the nurse to leave the room before she spoke.
"Why are they taking blood?" she inquired, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
"The doctor didn't really say. All he would confirm was that he wouldn't know if he'd have to admit you until he had the test results back."
"Oh."
"Did you want me to call your mother or father?" I offered.
Bella shook her head, a light blush on her cheeks. It was good to see some color back on her face, even if it was short-lived.
"I didn't mean to embarrass you. It's late, and I thought your parents might be worried, or that you might prefer one of them to be here instead of me."
"My father wouldn't come anyway," she mumbled, a forlorn expression on her face as she looked away from me. "Since my mother left him, he hasn't really been there for me. I don't think he likes to deal with me because I remind him too much of her."
She paused for a moment, glancing up at me before she offered further explanation.
"I haven't seen my mother in forever. She's always made it clear that a baby wasn't in her plans."
The profound sadness in her words was piercing. Her tone was very matter-of-fact, but I knew that her mother's absence had to hurt her, at least it would have hurt the girl I once knew.
"So my dad has spent the last eight years loving her and waiting for her to come back when it's clear she has no intention of doing so. I don't fault him for it though. It's beautiful that he loves her so much; that he's dedicated his entire life to her whether or not she reciprocates."
Bella's eyes darted around the room while she spoke, like she was embarrassed to admit what she was telling me. I didn't understand why she was telling me in the first place. It all seemed rather confidential.
"I think that's the only way to truly love someone, to give yourself over to them body and soul, come what may," she concluded, looking at me expectantly.
"You don't think it's possible to love someone with less investment than everything?" I asked, a little shocked by her sweeping generalization.
"Sure it is, if you're looking for ordinary love. I want something more. I want passion and devotion. I want to be adored."
"And that's what you were looking for tonight with Mike?"
It was a blunt assumption, but I couldn't help my curiosity.
"Not at all," she disputed, shaking her head emphatically. "I could never love someone like Mike. He's too shallow and self-centered. I only agreed to go out with him as a favor to a friend. She thought I could talk him into taking her out. It wasn't even supposed to be a strict date. We were working on that group project for Spanish, and it got late. He suggested we pick up burgers and then offered me a ride home. The minute I closed the door of his car, he pinned me and began his little song and dance trying to get me to sleep with him. Like I'd give up my virginity to him!" she said, snickering.
"You're still a virgin?" I blurted, surprised.
"Yeah," she confessed with an indifferent shrug. "It's not that I'm not interested in sex; I'm all kinds of curious about it… But to give yourself to someone like that, so intimately I mean, there has to be one hundred percent trust, and I think for that kind of trust, love has to be involved. That's where the problem is."
"Problem?"
"When I fall in love, it will be for forever, just like it was for my dad. How many guys do you know that are looking for forever? Not too many," she announced decidedly, and with a hint of sadness in her tone she continued. "Besides, I just get the feeling that love wasn't meant to be a part of my life."
Her thoughts were preposterous. She'd never been in love and had no grounds to base her proclamations on.
"It's not as if you can predict when you'll fall in love," I retorted. "Love is just a hormonal reaction in our bodies that our minds turn into something more. There's always the chance you'll find the right chemistry with someone."
"It's not just about chemistry," she countered passionately. "It's about the choice to surrender to the other person. It goes beyond trust. It's a tangible connection that transcends understanding."
"That's absurd."
"I didn't expect you to agree," she assured me with a laugh.
"You're not being logical."
"Love isn't based in logic, Edward, and that's why I'd never expect you to understand it. Love has no strict rules."
Her tone was good-natured, and as she spoke, she reached for the ice pack that I'd left on the chair and laid it gently on my knuckles. I flinched a little as the cold spread across my swollen flesh. Bella looked up at me with sympathetic eyes.
"Does it hurt?"
"A little," I admitted.
"You should get it looked at. You might need stitches."
"Maybe," I mumbled.
"I'm guessing you liked punching him," she said in a quiet voice.
"I've never liked Mike. Finding him forcing himself on you didn't exactly change my opinion of him for the better."
"So you did like punching him."
The tiny grin on her face gave away her satisfaction. She was every bit as happy that I hit him as I was.
"It wasn't the worst thing I've ever done."
"Really?" she asked, surprised. "What was?"
My mind flashed back to the day my father died, to the guilt I'd harbored for so many years. I'd never told anyone what happened that day, but before I could decide whether or not to share it with Bella, she interrupted my thoughts.
"I bet you've never done anything terrible. You're a good guy, Edward. You'll never convince me otherwise," she announced with a yawn.
This was her longest period of consciousness since I'd found her in the parking lot. I wasn't surprised she was tired again.
"You should sleep, Bella," I suggested softly, crossing the room to sit down.
Bella lay down on the table again, rolling on to her side and curling her legs up tightly.
"You can go if you want to," she mumbled. "You don't have to stay with me."
"I know, but you're in no shape to handle Mike if he shows up, and I wasn't doing anything anyway."
Her eyes stayed closed, but she smiled at my reply.
"Always my protector," she murmured, drifting off moments later.
Time seemed to drag while I waited for the test results. I was tired and impatient, and Bella's restless sleep was distracting. I wondered if she was dreaming or perhaps reliving what happened with Mike, and it made me uncomfortable to watch her disquiet. I was pacing the floor by the time the doctor finally returned to check on her.
Dr. Brock roused Bella gently and tried to explain what her next few days would be like. She didn't seem to be processing much of what he was saying, blinking slowly and continuously at him while he spoke. She laid her head back down as soon as he stepped away from the table. I couldn't tell if she was sleeping or not.
Dr. Brock turned and addressed me directly.
"Has she had many wakeful periods?"
"Not really. She had one extended period of wakefulness but has been asleep most of the time."
"That's good," he noted casually, recording something on her chart. "She needs her rest."
"Was she drugged?" I asked bluntly, sensing Dr. Brock would need some prompting to open up.
"Yes, gamma hydroxy butyrate, GHB. We knew what to look for after you described what happened."
"I suspected as much."
"We tested her blood alcohol and the test results were negative. Given without alcohol, the effects of the drug don't last much longer than three to six hours. She'll need extra rest for a few days, but there will be no lasting side effects." He smiled politely at me. "She's lucky you found her before she was sexually assaulted. In any case, she won't need to be admitted. She's all set to go. Expect some flu like symptoms to appear - nausea, vomiting, diarrhea. Because the chemical doesn't let her brain rest, she's going to feel as if she has a hangover for a few days. Watch for a headache, possibly sensitivity to light and noise, lethargy… she'll probably spend most of her time asleep."
I thanked him and waited for him to leave the room, anxious to get Bella home safely so my responsibility would be finished. I shook her lightly to wake her.
"Bella, it's time to go home now."
She smiled and stretched before opening her eyes to look at me.
"Your eyes are pretty, like emeralds."
"I guess the drug still hasn't worn off yet," I muttered, shaking my head to displace my discomfort.
"Drug?" she asked, shifting unsteadily and sitting herself up.
"I'll explain it later. Right now, we have to get you home."
"Why? I don't really want to go home. There's no one there. Can't I just go to your house?"
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Oh, okay," she stammered, struggling to keep the rejection off her face. "Maybe it would be easier if I called a cab? You probably need to get going. You've already done so much."
"It's fine. I can drive you home."
"If you're sure…"
I offered my hand to help her down off the examination table. She took it without a word, holding tightly to it while she shuffled to my car. The car ride began just as silently. I drove toward the north end of town, hoping she would tell me which way to go before I had to inquire. I waited until the last possible moment to ask her.
"I apologize, Bella. I don't know where you live."
"Willow Avenue, two-oh-one, at the end of the cul-de-sac."
There was something in her voice and in the way she quietly sighed in resignation. It bothered me immensely, although I had no idea why.
Isolated from the busier thoroughfare, her street was dim and deserted.
"Is your street always this dark?"
She didn't respond, just continued to look out the window like she hadn't heard me, or maybe she simply didn't wish to answer my question. I squinted into the darkness searching for the address she'd given me. The house at the end of the block stood alone, its dark silhouette murky against the night sky. There was no porch light on and no lights illuminating the house. No car waited in the driveway, just an old red truck parked at the curb. I glanced over at Bella. She was slumped against the door while her hands clutched mindlessly at the zipper of her hoodie. There was no relief on her face at the sight of home. If anything, she seemed to be a tiny bit sadder. I let the car ease into the curve of the dead end and pulled into the driveway.
"Did you want help getting to the door?" I wondered, shutting off the engine in anticipation of her acceptance.
"No, that's okay. I'll be fine. Thanks for you help tonight. It was very kind of you."
Her tone was determined but she didn't look at me, her eyes fixed on the ground as she spoke.
"Will your dad be home soon?"
She shrugged.
"Not sure."
"Will you be alright by yourself?"
"Of course. No biggie," she assured me, reaching for the door handle.
She turned to look at me once she was out of the car and gave me a small appreciative smile before slamming the door shut. Her hand trailed along the frame of the car, using it for support as she walked toward the house. Her first step without it to lean on was a stagger. I immediately got out of the car to help her.
"I know you said you don't need help, but you seem like you could use some," I said.
I slipped one hand under her elbow to support her and my other arm around her back to guide her. I led her up the stairs and let her lean on me while she searched her pockets for her keys.
"Shit."
"What's wrong?"
"My keys are in my purse, and my purse is in my backpack."
"Where's your backpack?"
"In the trunk of Newton's car. Damn it! I'm so stupid. I never should have trusted him."
"What happened isn't your fault, Bella."
"You can just go, Edward. I'll wait for my dad to come home."
I could tell she was frustrated with the situation.
"Perhaps it would be better if I drove you to the police station to find him?"
"He's not there. He's out fishing with a couple of his buddies."
"Well, I can't leave you here on the porch. You'll freeze to death."
"I'll go sit in my truck."
"Is your truck unlocked?"
"Shit. No, it's locked. Wow, you must think I'm a total fuck-up."
There was so much shame in her eyes when she looked at me, and it was pointless. None of this was her fault. Mike was to blame for everything.
"Come on. We'll go to my house. Tomorrow we can track Newton down and get your backpack from him."
"I don't want you to get into trouble."
"I won't. My mom's out of town for a few days," I admitted.
"Then why didn't you want me to come earlier when I asked you about it?"
"I didn't want to give you the wrong impression."
"And what impression would that be?" she asked with a grin on her face.
"It was a moment of indecision," I muttered. "But that was when you still had a place to stay, that is to say before you locked yourself out of your house."
She giggled quietly.
"For the record, I understand that you were trying to get rid of me earlier, but thanks for not being rude about it."
"It's not that," I lied.
I wasn't sure if I should tell her how awkward interacting with her had made me feel. Would she understand that sometimes I had difficulty relating to people on a personal level, that I didn't always know what to say or what the proper reaction should be?
"It's okay, Edward. I know you didn't sign up for this. If I were you, I'd be sick of hauling my ass around too."
She smiled widely in understanding. Somehow, without ever uttering a word of my discomfort, she understood it implicitly. I smiled back at her, feeling lighter somehow. Maybe the girl I once knew was in there after all.
A/N: Thanks for reading. Keep it up and keep reviewing too! Your support and feedback are so important.
Author: Picklewinkle (ff.net)/JCAddict (LJ)
Characters/Pairing: Edward & Bella
Rating: M
Category: Drama/Angst/Romance
Spoilers: None
Summary: Edward Cullen is brilliant and complicated but also closed off and socially inept. Can Bella teach him how to tap into and understand his emotions through an unorthodox experiment without breaking her own heart in the process? AH.
Chapter 2: Personal Confessions In The Emergency Room
DISCLAIMER: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the words, plot and lackluster formatting belong to me.
I wanted to thank everyone at Project Team Beta. I can't say enough good things about the service. It's an invaluable tool and I'm so thankful to have them to work with. A big thank you to my betas for their assistance on this chapter, Angelz1114577 and LightStarDusting.
Thanks for the reviews, guys! It's so great to hear from so many of you that I recognize from Out of Choices and also to see some new names. I appreciate the support.
EPOV
"Don't lay down here. Let me help you get home. My car is just over there."
I pointed toward my car, but Bella had already lain face down. Her skin looked inordinately pale against the dark pavement.
"Take my hand, Bella. I'll help you up."
I offered her my hand, but she didn't respond. I knelt down and brushed the hair from her face.
"Bella, can you hear me?"
Her eyelids fluttered softly, and eventually her eyes opened halfway. There was no recognition in her gaze. In fact, there wasn't much of anything but a blank stare. I had my suspicions about what was going on, but I was trying not to jump to conclusions. It had been a long time since Bella Swan was my friend. I had no idea what sort of person she'd become since then. What I did know was that it wouldn't be right to leave her lying on the pavement of the school parking lot in the middle of the night, especially given her erratic behavior.
"Bella, something is wrong with you. I need to get you to the hospital. Can you walk?"
Her face twisted in confusion as if my words were nonsensical, more evidence that supported my hunch. A few seconds later, her eyes closed again, and I knew I was on my own getting her to the ER.
"Bella, I'm going to pull you up, but you have to help me by walking."
I gently persuaded her hands out from underneath her and pulled her up to her feet. She staggered toward me with an enormous lurch, wobbling unsteadily one way and then the other, before stilling her body against mine in silence. Her eyes were still closed. She didn't seem to have any clue about what was going on around her.
"What did he do to you?" I mumbled under my breath, awkwardly shifting Bella to my right side so I would be able help her walk.
She slipped her arm around my waist, tottering along beside me while I supported her body and urged her forward. I tried not to think of the irony of the situation; it was absurdly familiar, even if the circumstances were drastically different. Once I had Bella in my car, I started for Forks Community Hospital.
~8~
"Yes, I understand you perfectly, but I don't know her health information."
"I understand, Sir, but we can't attend to your friend without proper paperwork." She shoved the clipboard back at me with an indifferent expression. "You'll have to fill these out for her if she can't do it herself."
I glanced over at Bella, slumped sideways in a wheelchair, lips parted and softly snoring, her chest rising and falling shallowly in her slumber.
"Fine," I grumbled, palming the clipboard in annoyance.
If they wanted completed forms, I'd give them completed forms. Whether or not they'd be correct was another story. I wheeled Bella over to a quiet corner of the waiting room and began the questionnaire.
Name: Bella Marie Swan.
Or would that be Isabella? Isabella, I guess.
I scratched out the given name I'd written and smirked as I wrote in her full name, remembering how much she used to hate it.
Address: 321 Main Street, Forks, WA, 98331.
The truth was I'd never been to Bella's house. I didn't have a clue where she lived. I used that address whenever I had to fill out anything online. It was the address of the post office.
Phone number:
I'd felt Bella's cell phone against my thigh while I helped her walk. I retrieved it from her pocket and added the number to the form.
Next of kin: Mr. Swan.
I knew he still worked for the Forks Police Department. I had no sure knowledge what had become of Bella's mother, only rumors.
I tripped my way through the rest of the form, making up information as I went along and using the scant amount I did know to give the best picture I could of Bella's condition. The ER was not very busy, and we were escorted to one of the examination rooms within an hour. The nurse was kind enough to help me get Bella up on to the table. I took the chair adjacent to it and waited for the doctor.
"Where are we?" Bella rasped softly, squinting at the bright white light that shone down at her.
"We're at the hospital," I explained. "The doctor should be in to check on you soon."
"Why do I have to see a doctor?"
"Your behavior is erratic. You're unaware of your surroundings half the time; the other half, you're sleeping."
"Okay."
She dropped back to sleep almost immediately. Bella took my account of the situation more easily than I expected. She used to be more stubborn.
Dr. Brock came in a few minutes later. I described the predicament I'd found Bella in, as well as her behavior and symptoms, and waited patiently while he scribbled down notes on Bella's chart.
"I'm going to order some blood work for her. I don't think she'll have to be admitted, but the tests should confirm that."
He didn't give me any more information than that, but I was betting he had the same suspicions as I did. I always knew Mike was an asshole, but this was low, even for him.
The nurse was very gentle with Bella while drawing her blood, but the needle prick woke her, nevertheless. The nurse tried to assure her that she was fine, but I could sense the turmoil radiating from her. I stepped to the foot of the table and put a hand lightly on Bella's ankle.
"Still don't like needles?" I wondered rhetorically.
Bella smiled shyly at me and shook her head. The nurse took advantage of the distraction and quickly finished up. Bella waited for the nurse to leave the room before she spoke.
"Why are they taking blood?" she inquired, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
"The doctor didn't really say. All he would confirm was that he wouldn't know if he'd have to admit you until he had the test results back."
"Oh."
"Did you want me to call your mother or father?" I offered.
Bella shook her head, a light blush on her cheeks. It was good to see some color back on her face, even if it was short-lived.
"I didn't mean to embarrass you. It's late, and I thought your parents might be worried, or that you might prefer one of them to be here instead of me."
"My father wouldn't come anyway," she mumbled, a forlorn expression on her face as she looked away from me. "Since my mother left him, he hasn't really been there for me. I don't think he likes to deal with me because I remind him too much of her."
She paused for a moment, glancing up at me before she offered further explanation.
"I haven't seen my mother in forever. She's always made it clear that a baby wasn't in her plans."
The profound sadness in her words was piercing. Her tone was very matter-of-fact, but I knew that her mother's absence had to hurt her, at least it would have hurt the girl I once knew.
"So my dad has spent the last eight years loving her and waiting for her to come back when it's clear she has no intention of doing so. I don't fault him for it though. It's beautiful that he loves her so much; that he's dedicated his entire life to her whether or not she reciprocates."
Bella's eyes darted around the room while she spoke, like she was embarrassed to admit what she was telling me. I didn't understand why she was telling me in the first place. It all seemed rather confidential.
"I think that's the only way to truly love someone, to give yourself over to them body and soul, come what may," she concluded, looking at me expectantly.
"You don't think it's possible to love someone with less investment than everything?" I asked, a little shocked by her sweeping generalization.
"Sure it is, if you're looking for ordinary love. I want something more. I want passion and devotion. I want to be adored."
"And that's what you were looking for tonight with Mike?"
It was a blunt assumption, but I couldn't help my curiosity.
"Not at all," she disputed, shaking her head emphatically. "I could never love someone like Mike. He's too shallow and self-centered. I only agreed to go out with him as a favor to a friend. She thought I could talk him into taking her out. It wasn't even supposed to be a strict date. We were working on that group project for Spanish, and it got late. He suggested we pick up burgers and then offered me a ride home. The minute I closed the door of his car, he pinned me and began his little song and dance trying to get me to sleep with him. Like I'd give up my virginity to him!" she said, snickering.
"You're still a virgin?" I blurted, surprised.
"Yeah," she confessed with an indifferent shrug. "It's not that I'm not interested in sex; I'm all kinds of curious about it… But to give yourself to someone like that, so intimately I mean, there has to be one hundred percent trust, and I think for that kind of trust, love has to be involved. That's where the problem is."
"Problem?"
"When I fall in love, it will be for forever, just like it was for my dad. How many guys do you know that are looking for forever? Not too many," she announced decidedly, and with a hint of sadness in her tone she continued. "Besides, I just get the feeling that love wasn't meant to be a part of my life."
Her thoughts were preposterous. She'd never been in love and had no grounds to base her proclamations on.
"It's not as if you can predict when you'll fall in love," I retorted. "Love is just a hormonal reaction in our bodies that our minds turn into something more. There's always the chance you'll find the right chemistry with someone."
"It's not just about chemistry," she countered passionately. "It's about the choice to surrender to the other person. It goes beyond trust. It's a tangible connection that transcends understanding."
"That's absurd."
"I didn't expect you to agree," she assured me with a laugh.
"You're not being logical."
"Love isn't based in logic, Edward, and that's why I'd never expect you to understand it. Love has no strict rules."
Her tone was good-natured, and as she spoke, she reached for the ice pack that I'd left on the chair and laid it gently on my knuckles. I flinched a little as the cold spread across my swollen flesh. Bella looked up at me with sympathetic eyes.
"Does it hurt?"
"A little," I admitted.
"You should get it looked at. You might need stitches."
"Maybe," I mumbled.
"I'm guessing you liked punching him," she said in a quiet voice.
"I've never liked Mike. Finding him forcing himself on you didn't exactly change my opinion of him for the better."
"So you did like punching him."
The tiny grin on her face gave away her satisfaction. She was every bit as happy that I hit him as I was.
"It wasn't the worst thing I've ever done."
"Really?" she asked, surprised. "What was?"
My mind flashed back to the day my father died, to the guilt I'd harbored for so many years. I'd never told anyone what happened that day, but before I could decide whether or not to share it with Bella, she interrupted my thoughts.
"I bet you've never done anything terrible. You're a good guy, Edward. You'll never convince me otherwise," she announced with a yawn.
This was her longest period of consciousness since I'd found her in the parking lot. I wasn't surprised she was tired again.
"You should sleep, Bella," I suggested softly, crossing the room to sit down.
Bella lay down on the table again, rolling on to her side and curling her legs up tightly.
"You can go if you want to," she mumbled. "You don't have to stay with me."
"I know, but you're in no shape to handle Mike if he shows up, and I wasn't doing anything anyway."
Her eyes stayed closed, but she smiled at my reply.
"Always my protector," she murmured, drifting off moments later.
Time seemed to drag while I waited for the test results. I was tired and impatient, and Bella's restless sleep was distracting. I wondered if she was dreaming or perhaps reliving what happened with Mike, and it made me uncomfortable to watch her disquiet. I was pacing the floor by the time the doctor finally returned to check on her.
Dr. Brock roused Bella gently and tried to explain what her next few days would be like. She didn't seem to be processing much of what he was saying, blinking slowly and continuously at him while he spoke. She laid her head back down as soon as he stepped away from the table. I couldn't tell if she was sleeping or not.
Dr. Brock turned and addressed me directly.
"Has she had many wakeful periods?"
"Not really. She had one extended period of wakefulness but has been asleep most of the time."
"That's good," he noted casually, recording something on her chart. "She needs her rest."
"Was she drugged?" I asked bluntly, sensing Dr. Brock would need some prompting to open up.
"Yes, gamma hydroxy butyrate, GHB. We knew what to look for after you described what happened."
"I suspected as much."
"We tested her blood alcohol and the test results were negative. Given without alcohol, the effects of the drug don't last much longer than three to six hours. She'll need extra rest for a few days, but there will be no lasting side effects." He smiled politely at me. "She's lucky you found her before she was sexually assaulted. In any case, she won't need to be admitted. She's all set to go. Expect some flu like symptoms to appear - nausea, vomiting, diarrhea. Because the chemical doesn't let her brain rest, she's going to feel as if she has a hangover for a few days. Watch for a headache, possibly sensitivity to light and noise, lethargy… she'll probably spend most of her time asleep."
I thanked him and waited for him to leave the room, anxious to get Bella home safely so my responsibility would be finished. I shook her lightly to wake her.
"Bella, it's time to go home now."
She smiled and stretched before opening her eyes to look at me.
"Your eyes are pretty, like emeralds."
"I guess the drug still hasn't worn off yet," I muttered, shaking my head to displace my discomfort.
"Drug?" she asked, shifting unsteadily and sitting herself up.
"I'll explain it later. Right now, we have to get you home."
"Why? I don't really want to go home. There's no one there. Can't I just go to your house?"
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Oh, okay," she stammered, struggling to keep the rejection off her face. "Maybe it would be easier if I called a cab? You probably need to get going. You've already done so much."
"It's fine. I can drive you home."
"If you're sure…"
I offered my hand to help her down off the examination table. She took it without a word, holding tightly to it while she shuffled to my car. The car ride began just as silently. I drove toward the north end of town, hoping she would tell me which way to go before I had to inquire. I waited until the last possible moment to ask her.
"I apologize, Bella. I don't know where you live."
"Willow Avenue, two-oh-one, at the end of the cul-de-sac."
There was something in her voice and in the way she quietly sighed in resignation. It bothered me immensely, although I had no idea why.
Isolated from the busier thoroughfare, her street was dim and deserted.
"Is your street always this dark?"
She didn't respond, just continued to look out the window like she hadn't heard me, or maybe she simply didn't wish to answer my question. I squinted into the darkness searching for the address she'd given me. The house at the end of the block stood alone, its dark silhouette murky against the night sky. There was no porch light on and no lights illuminating the house. No car waited in the driveway, just an old red truck parked at the curb. I glanced over at Bella. She was slumped against the door while her hands clutched mindlessly at the zipper of her hoodie. There was no relief on her face at the sight of home. If anything, she seemed to be a tiny bit sadder. I let the car ease into the curve of the dead end and pulled into the driveway.
"Did you want help getting to the door?" I wondered, shutting off the engine in anticipation of her acceptance.
"No, that's okay. I'll be fine. Thanks for you help tonight. It was very kind of you."
Her tone was determined but she didn't look at me, her eyes fixed on the ground as she spoke.
"Will your dad be home soon?"
She shrugged.
"Not sure."
"Will you be alright by yourself?"
"Of course. No biggie," she assured me, reaching for the door handle.
She turned to look at me once she was out of the car and gave me a small appreciative smile before slamming the door shut. Her hand trailed along the frame of the car, using it for support as she walked toward the house. Her first step without it to lean on was a stagger. I immediately got out of the car to help her.
"I know you said you don't need help, but you seem like you could use some," I said.
I slipped one hand under her elbow to support her and my other arm around her back to guide her. I led her up the stairs and let her lean on me while she searched her pockets for her keys.
"Shit."
"What's wrong?"
"My keys are in my purse, and my purse is in my backpack."
"Where's your backpack?"
"In the trunk of Newton's car. Damn it! I'm so stupid. I never should have trusted him."
"What happened isn't your fault, Bella."
"You can just go, Edward. I'll wait for my dad to come home."
I could tell she was frustrated with the situation.
"Perhaps it would be better if I drove you to the police station to find him?"
"He's not there. He's out fishing with a couple of his buddies."
"Well, I can't leave you here on the porch. You'll freeze to death."
"I'll go sit in my truck."
"Is your truck unlocked?"
"Shit. No, it's locked. Wow, you must think I'm a total fuck-up."
There was so much shame in her eyes when she looked at me, and it was pointless. None of this was her fault. Mike was to blame for everything.
"Come on. We'll go to my house. Tomorrow we can track Newton down and get your backpack from him."
"I don't want you to get into trouble."
"I won't. My mom's out of town for a few days," I admitted.
"Then why didn't you want me to come earlier when I asked you about it?"
"I didn't want to give you the wrong impression."
"And what impression would that be?" she asked with a grin on her face.
"It was a moment of indecision," I muttered. "But that was when you still had a place to stay, that is to say before you locked yourself out of your house."
She giggled quietly.
"For the record, I understand that you were trying to get rid of me earlier, but thanks for not being rude about it."
"It's not that," I lied.
I wasn't sure if I should tell her how awkward interacting with her had made me feel. Would she understand that sometimes I had difficulty relating to people on a personal level, that I didn't always know what to say or what the proper reaction should be?
"It's okay, Edward. I know you didn't sign up for this. If I were you, I'd be sick of hauling my ass around too."
She smiled widely in understanding. Somehow, without ever uttering a word of my discomfort, she understood it implicitly. I smiled back at her, feeling lighter somehow. Maybe the girl I once knew was in there after all.
A/N: Thanks for reading. Keep it up and keep reviewing too! Your support and feedback are so important.