My eyes opened to a bright, white light. I was in an unfamiliar room, a white room. The

wall beside me was covered in long vertical blinds; over my head, the glaring lights

blinded me. I was propped up on a hard, uneven bed — a bed with rails. The pillows were

flat and lumpy. There was an annoying beeping sound somewhere close by. I hoped that

meant I was still alive. Death shouldn't be this uncomfortable.

My hands were all twisted up with clear tubes, and something was taped across my

face, under my nose. I lifted my hand to rip it off.

"No, you don't." And cool fingers caught my hand.

"Edward?" I turned my head slightly, and his exquisite face was just inches from mine,

his chin resting on the edge of my pillow. I realized again that I was alive, this time with

gratitude and elation. "Oh, Edward, I'm so sorry!"

"Shhhh," he shushed me. "Everything's all right now."

"What happened?" I couldn't remember clearly, and my mind rebelled against me as I

tried to recall.

"I was almost too late. I could have been too late," he whispered, his voice tormented.

"I was so stupid, Edward. I thought he had my mom."

"He tricked us all."

"I need to call Charlie and my mom," I realized through the haze.

"Alice called them. Ren�e is here — well, here in the hospital. She's getting something

to eat right now."

"She's here?" I tried to sit up, but the spinning in my head accelerated, and his hand

pushed me gently down onto the pillows.

"She'll be back soon," he promised. "And you need to stay still."

"But what did you tell her?" I panicked. I had no interest in being soothed. My mom

was here and I was recovering from a vampire attack. "Why did you tell her I'm here?"

"You fell down two flights of stairs and through a window." He paused. "You have to

admit, it could happen."

I sighed, and it hurt. I stared down at my body under the sheet, the huge lump that was

my leg.

"How bad am I?" I asked.

"You have a broken leg, four broken ribs, some cracks in your skull, bruises covering

every inch of your skin, and you've lost a lot of blood. They gave you a few transfusions.

I didn't like it — it made you smell all wrong for a while."

"That must have been a nice change for you."

"No, I like how you smell."

"How did you do it?" I asked quietly. He knew what I meant at once.

"I'm not sure." He looked away from my wondering eyes, lifting my gauze-wrapped

hand from the bed and holding it gently in his, careful not to disrupt the wire connecting

me to one of the monitors.

I waited patiently for the rest.

He sighed without returning my gaze. "It was impossible… to stop," he whispered.

"Impossible. But I did." He looked up finally, with half a smile. "I must love you."

"Don't I taste as good as I smell?" I smiled in response. That hurt my face.

"Even better — better than I'd imagined."

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

He raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Of all the things to apologize for."

"What should I apologize for?"

"For very nearly taking yourself away from me forever."

"I'm sorry," I apologized again.

"I know why you did it." His voice was comforting. "It was still irrational, of course.

You should have waited for me, you should have told me."

"You wouldn't have let me go."

"No," he agreed in a grim tone, "I wouldn't."

Some very unpleasant memories were beginning to come back to me. I shuddered, and

then winced.

He was instantly anxious. "Bella, what's wrong?"

"What happened to James?"

"After I pulled him off you, Emmett and Jasper took care of him." There was a fierce

note of regret in his voice.

This confused me. "I didn't see Emmett and Jasper there."

"They had to leave the room… there was a lot of blood."

"But you stayed."

"Yes, I stayed."

"And Alice, and Carlisle …" I said in wonder.

"They love you, too, you know."

A flash of painful images from the last time I'd seen Alice reminded me of something.

"Did Alice see the tape?" I asked anxiously.

"Yes." A new sound darkened his voice, a tone of sheer hatred.

"She was always in the dark, that's why she didn't remember."

"I know. She understands now." His voice was even, but his face was black with fury.

I tried to reach his face with my free hand, but something stopped me. I glanced down

to see the IV pulling at my hand.

"Ugh." I winced.

"What is it?" he asked anxiously — distracted, but not enough. The bleakness did not

entirely leave his eyes.

"Needles," I explained, looking away from the one in my hand. I concentrated on a

warped ceiling tile and tried to breathe deeply despite the ache in my ribs.

"Afraid of a needle," he muttered to himself under his breath, shaking his head. "Oh, a

sadistic vampire, intent on torturing her to death, sure, no problem, she runs off to meet

him. An IV, on the other hand…"

I rolled my eyes. I was pleased to discover that this reaction, at least, was pain-free. I

decided to change the subject.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

He stared at me, first confusion and then hurt touching his eyes. His brows pulled

together as he frowned. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" I protested, horrified by the thought. "No, I meant, why does my mother think

you're here? I need to have my story straight before she gets back."

"Oh," he said, and his forehead smoothed back into marble. "I came to Phoenix to talk

some sense into you, to convince you to come back to Forks." His wide eyes were so

earnest and sincere, I almost believed him myself. "You agreed to see me, and you drove

out to the hotel where I was staying with Carlisle and Alice — of course I was here with

parental supervision," he inserted virtuously, "but you tripped on the stairs on the way to

my room and… well, you know the rest. You don't need to remember any details, though;

you have a good excuse to be a little muddled about the finer points."

I thought about it for a moment. "There are a few flaws with that story. Like no broken

windows."

"Not really," he said. "Alice had a little bit too much fun fabricating evidence. It's all

been taken care of very convincingly — you could probably sue the hotel if you wanted

to. You have nothing to worry about," he promised, stroking my cheek with the lightest of

touches. "Your only job now is to heal."

I wasn't so lost to the soreness or the fog of medication that I didn't respond to his

touch. The beeping of the monitor jumped around erratically — now he wasn't the only

one who could hear my heart misbehave.

"That's going to be embarrassing," I muttered to myself.

He chuckled, and a speculative look came into his eye. "Hmm, I wonder…"

He leaned in slowly; the beeping noise accelerated wildly before his lips even touched

me. But when they did, though with the most gentle of pressure, the beeping stopped

altogether.

He pulled back abruptly, his anxious expression turning to relief as the monitor reported

the restarting of my heart.

"It seems that I'm going to have to be even more careful with you than usual." He

frowned.

"I was not finished kissing you," I complained. "Don't make me come over there."

He grinned, and bent to press his lips lightly to mine. The monitor went wild.

But then his lips were taut. He pulled away.

"I think I hear your mother," he said, grinning again.

"Don't leave me," I cried, an irrational surge of panic flooding through me. I couldn't let

him go — he might disappear from me again.

He read the terror in my eyes for a short second. "I won't," he promised solemnly, and

then he smiled. "I'll take a nap."

He moved from the hard plastic chair by my side to the turquoise faux-leather recliner

at the foot of my bed, leaning it all the way back, and closing his eyes. He was perfectly

still.

"Don't forget to breathe," I whispered sarcastically. He took a deep breath, his eyes still

closed.

I could hear my mother now. She was talking to someone, maybe a nurse, and she

sounded tired and upset. I wanted to jump out of the bed and run to her, to calm her,

promise that everything was fine. But I wasn't in any sort of shape for jumping, so I

waited impatiently.

The door opened a crack, and she peeked through.

"Mom!" I whispered, my voice full of love and relief.

She took in Edward's still form on the recliner, and tiptoed to my bedside.

"He never leaves, does he?" she mumbled to herself.

"Mom, I'm so glad to see you!"

She bent down to hug me gently, and I felt warm tears falling on my cheeks.

"Bella, I was so upset!"

"I'm sorry, Mom. But everything's fine now, it's okay," I comforted her.

"I'm just glad to finally see your eyes open." She sat on the edge of my bed.

I suddenly realized I didn't have any idea when it was. "How long have they been

closed?"

"It's Friday, hon, you've been out for a while."

"Friday?" I was shocked. I tried to remember what day it had been when… but I didn't

want to think about that.

"They had to keep you sedated for a while, honey — you've got a lot of injuries."

"I know." I could feel them.

"You're lucky Dr. Cullen was there. He's such a nice man… very young, though. And he

looks more like a model than a doctor…"

"You met Carlisle?"

"And Edward's sister Alice. She's a lovely girl."

"She is," I agreed wholeheartedly.

She glanced over her shoulder at Edward, lying with his eyes closed in the chair. "You

didn't tell me you had such good friends in Forks."

I cringed, and then moaned.

"What hurts?" she demanded anxiously, turning back to me. Edward's eyes flashed to

my face.

"It’s fine," I assured them. "I just have to remember not to move." He lapsed back into

his phony slumber.

I took advantage of my mother's momentary distraction to keep the subject from

returning to my less-than-candid behavior. "Where's Phil?" I asked quickly.

"Florida— oh, Bella! You'll never guess! Just when we were about to leave, the best

news!"

"Phil got signed?" I guessed.

"Yes! How did you guess! The Suns, can you believe it?"

"That's great, Mom," I said as enthusiastically as I could manage, though I had little

idea what that meant.

"And you'll like Jacksonville so much," she gushed while I stared at her vacantly. "I

was a little bit worried when Phil started talking about Akron, what with the snow and

everything, because you know how I hate the cold, but now Jacksonville! It's always

sunny, and the humidity really isn’t that bad. We found the cutest house, yellow, with

white trim, and a porch just like in an old movie, and this huge oak tree, and it's just a few

minutes from the ocean, and you'll have your own bathroom —"

"Wait, Mom!" I interrupted. Edward still had his eyes closed, but he looked too tense to

pass as asleep. "What are you talking about? I'm not going to Florida. I live in Forks."

"But you don't have to anymore, silly," she laughed. "Phil will be able to be around so

much more now… we've talked about it a lot, and what I'm going to do is trade off on the

away games, half the time with you, half the time with him."

"Mom." I hesitated, wondering how best to be diplomatic about this. "I want to live in

Forks. I'm already settled in at school, and I have a couple of girlfriends" — she glanced

toward Edward again when I reminded her of friends, so I tried another direction — "and

Charlie needs me. He's just all alone up there, and he can't cook at all."

"You want to stay in Forks?" she asked, bewildered. The idea was inconceivable to her.

And then her eyes flickered back toward Edward. "Why?"

"I told you — school, Charlie — ouch!" I'd shrugged. Not a good idea.

Her hands fluttered helplessly over me, trying to find a safe place to pat. She made do

with my forehead; it was unbandaged.

"Bella, honey, you hate Forks," she reminded me.

"It's not so bad."

She frowned and looked back and forth between Edward and me, this time very

deliberately.

"Is it this boy?" she whispered.

I opened my mouth to lie, but her eyes were scrutinizing my face, and I knew she

would see through that.

"He's part of it," I admitted. No need to confess how big a part. "So, have you had a

chance to talk with Edward?" I asked.

"Yes." She hesitated, looking at his perfectly still form. "And I want to talk to you about

that."

Uh-oh. "What about?" I asked.

"I think that boy is in love with you," she accused, keeping her voice low.

"I think so, too," I confided.

"And how do you feel about him?" She only poorly concealed the raging curiosity in

her voice.

I sighed, looking away. As much as I loved my mom, this was not a conversation I

wanted to have with her. "I'm pretty crazy about him." There — that sounded like

something a teenager with her first boyfriend might say.

"Well, he seems very nice, and, my goodness, he's incredibly good-looking, but you're

so young, Bella…" Her voice was unsure; as far as I could remember, this was the first

time since I was eight that she'd come close to trying to sound like a parental authority. I

recognized the reasonable-but-firm tone of voice from talks I'd had with her about men.

"I know that, Mom. Don't worry about it. It's just a crush," I soothed her.

"That's right," she agreed, easily pleased.

Then she sighed and glanced guiltily over her shoulder at the big, round clock on the

wall.

"Do you need to go?"

She bit her lip. "Phil's supposed to call in a little while… I didn't know you were going

to wake up…"

"No problem, Mom." I tried to tone down the relief so she wouldn't get her feelings

hurt. "I won't be alone."

"I'll be back soon. I've been sleeping here, you know," she announced, proud of herself.

"Oh, Mom, you don't have to do that! You can sleep at home — I'll never notice." The

swirl of painkillers in my brain was making it hard to concentrate even now, though,

apparently, I'd been sleeping for days.

"I was too nervous," she admitted sheepishly. "There's been some crime in the

neighborhood, and I don't like being there alone."

"Crime?" I asked in alarm.

"Someone broke into that dance studio around the corner from the house and burned it

to the ground — there's nothing left at all! And they left a stolen car right out front. Do

you remember when you used to dance there, honey?"

"I remember." I shivered, and winced.

"I can stay, baby, if you need me."

"No, Mom, I'll be fine. Edward will be with me."

She looked like that might be why she wanted to stay. "I'll be back tonight." It sounded

as much like a warning as it sounded like a promise, and she glanced at Edward again as

she said it.

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Bella. Try to be more careful when you walk, honey, I don't want to

lose you."

Edward's eyes stayed closed, but a wide grin flashed across his face.

A nurse came bustling in then to check all my tubes and wires. My mother kissed my

forehead, patted my gauze-wrapped hand, and left.

The nurse was checking the paper readout on my heart monitor.

"Are you feeling anxious, honey? Your heart rate got a little high there."

"I'm fine," I assured her.

"I'll tell your RN that you're awake. She'll be in to see you in a minute."

As soon as she closed the door, Edward was at my side.

"You stole a car?" I raised my eyebrows.

He smiled, unrepentant. "It was a good car, very fast."

"How was your nap?" I asked.

"Interesting." His eyes narrowed.

"What?"

He looked down while he answered. "I'm surprised. I thought Florida … and your

mother…well, I thought that's what you would want."

I stared at him uncomprehendingly. "But you'd be stuck inside all day in Florida. You'd

only be able to come out at night, just like a real vampire."

He almost smiled, but not quite. And then his face was grave. "I would stay in Forks,

Bella. Or somewhere like it," he explained." Someplace where I couldn't hurt you

anymore."

It didn't sink in at first. I continued to stare at him blankly as the words one by one

clicked into place in my head like a ghastly puzzle. I was barely conscious of the sound

of my heart accelerating, though, as my breathing became hyperventilation, I was aware

of the sharp aching in my protesting ribs.

He didn't say anything; he watched my face warily as the pain that had nothing to do

with broken bones, pain that was infinitely worse, threatened to crush me.

And then another nurse walked purposefully into the room. Edward sat still as stone as

she took in my expression with a practiced eye before turning to the monitors.

"Time for more pain meds, sweetheart?" she asked kindly, tapping the IV feed.

"No, no," I mumbled, trying to keep the agony out of my voice. "I don't need anything."

I couldn't afford to close my eyes now.

"No need to be brave, honey. It's better if you don't get too stressed out; you need to

rest." She waited, but I just shook my head.

"Okay," she sighed. "Hit the call button when you're ready."

She gave Edward a stern look, and threw one more anxious glance at the machinery,

before leaving.

His cool hands were on my face; I stared at him with wild eyes.

"Shhh, Bella, calm down."

"Don't leave me," I begged in a broken voice.

"I won't," he promised. "Now relax before I call the nurse back to sedate you."

But my heart couldn't slow.

"Bella." He stroked my face anxiously. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here as

long as you need me."

"Do you swear you won't leave me?" I whispered. I tried to control the gasping, at least.

My ribs were throbbing.

He put his hands on either side of my face and brought his face close to mine. His eyes

were wide and serious. "I swear."

The smell of his breath was soothing. It seemed to ease the ache of my breathing. He

continued to hold my gaze while my body slowly relaxed and the beeping returned to a

normal pace. His eyes were dark, closer to black than gold today.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yes," I said cautiously.

He shook his head and muttered something unintelligible. I thought I picked out the

word "overreaction."

"Why did you say that?" I whispered, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "Are you

tired of having to save me all the time? Do you want me to go away?"

"No, I don't want to be without you, Bella, of course not. Be rational. And I have no

problem with saving you, either — if it weren't for the fact that I was the one putting you

in danger… that I'm the reason that you're here."

"Yes, you are the reason." I frowned. "The reason I'm here —alive."

"Barely." His voice was just a whisper. "Covered in gauze and plaster and hardly able to

move."

"I wasn't referring to my most recent near-death experience," I said, growing irritated.

"I was thinking of the others — you can take your pick. If it weren't for you, I would be

rotting away in the Forks cemetery."

He winced at my words, but the haunted look didn't leave his eyes.

"That's not the worst part, though," he continued to whisper. He acted as if I hadn't

spoken. "Not seeing you there on the floor… crumpled and broken." His voice was

choked. "Not thinking I was too late. Not even hearing you scream in pain — all those

unbearable memories that I'll carry with me for the rest of eternity. No, the very worst

was feeling… knowing that I couldn't stop. Believing that I was going to kill you

myself."

"But you didn't."

"I could have. So easily."

I knew I needed to stay calm… but he was trying to talk himself into leaving me, and

the panic fluttered in my lungs, trying to get out.

"Promise me," I whispered.

"What?"

"You know what." I was starting to get angry now. He was so stubbornly determined to

dwell on the negative.

He heard the change in my tone. His eyes tightened. "I don't seem to be strong enough

to stay away from you, so I suppose that you'll get your way… whether it kills you or

not," he added roughly.

"Good." He hadn't promised, though — a fact that I had not missed. The panic was only

barely contained; I had no strength left to control the anger. "You told me how you

stopped… now I want to know why," I demanded.

"Why?" he repeated warily.

"Why you did it. Why didn't you just let the venom spread? By now I would be just like

you."

Edward's eyes seemed to turn flat black, and I remembered that this was something he'd

never intended me to know. Alice must have been preoccupied by the things she'd learned

about herself… or she'd been very careful with her thoughts around him — clearly, he'd

had no idea that she'd filled me in on the mechanics of vampire conversions. He was

surprised, and infuriated. His nostrils flared, his mouth looked as if it was chiseled from

stone.

He wasn't going to answer, that much was clear.

"I'll be the first to admit that I have no experience with relationships," I said. "But it just

seems logical… a man and woman have to be somewhat equal… as in, one of them can't

always be swooping in and saving the other one. They have to save each other equally."

He folded his arms on the side of my bed and rested his chin on his arms. His

expression was smooth, the anger reined in. Evidently he'd decided he wasn't angry with

me. I hoped I'd get a chance to warn Alice before he caught up with her.

"You have saved me," he said quietly.

"I can't always be Lois Lane," I insisted. "I want to be Superman, too."

"You don't know what you're asking." His voice was soft; he stared intently at the edge