In the Blink of an Eye 26 (fic)
Author: That Writr
Characters/Pairing: E/B ... eventually
Rating: Mature ... eventually; this part is PG
Category: romance, drama
Spoilers: through New Moon
Summary: Bella went cliff diving, but it didn't turn out so well. She broke her back. A decade later, Edward reappears in her life on the same night she loses her best friend and husband to a freak accident. Now a graduate student in Women's Studies, Bella isn't thrilled to see him. But when the Cullens re-enter Bella's life, they bring change, hope, and a new joint project that will require all their expertises.
Notes: A crisis reverses roles and Bella arrives at a hospital to comfort a distraught Edward.
Previous: Part 25
Additionally, I have the story up at Fanfiction.net, for those who'd prefer reading it or commenting in that format or are new to it and want to start from the beginning: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4500819/1/I
The dream begins oddly, as dreams often do. She is, inexplicably, back in a class at the University of North Florida in Jacksonville. She's not sure what class it is, and it doesn't matter. What matters is that there's a test today and she's forgotten to bring a pen. She studied; it's not that she didn't study -- but she has nothing to write with. She forgot to put her pack on the back of her wheelchair and now she's scrabbling for a pen, a pencil . . . anything at all. Growing increasingly anxious, she asks her neighbors for a loaner but none have a spare. Then somebody stops beside the table she occupies near the door. "Here," a voice says. "You can use mine." A beautiful blue faux-pearl Parker fountain pen is laid on her table.
"Thank you," she tells her benefactor. "I'll be sure to give it back afterward." She looks up.
It's Edward standing there, offering her a pen. It's not Mark, it's Edward. Even in the foggy world of dreams she recognizes this as somehow strange. What is Edward doing at UNF?
She only dimly recalls the dream when she wakes, yet she feels as if something fundamental has shifted, deep down inside.
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"Bella! Bella!" The banging on her sliding glass door makes Bella look up from where she sits at her desk, working on the application for yet another privately funded grant. It seemed like three-quarters of her time was spent trying to raise funds for the shelter and only one quarter devoted to the business of the shelter itself, like writing mission statements and vocational training plans, lining up counseling services, police protection, and making arrangements so that shelter kids can be enrolled in the local schools with adequate privacy.
Turning from her computer, she moves toward the doors but Alice has already let herself inside. "Come on," she says, holding it open. Her amber eyes are wide and anxious.
"Where are we going?" Bella asks, confused.
"Edward needs you."
"Huh?" The improbability of that causes her to pause, which leads Alice to dart forward at inhuman speed and propel her and her chair out the door, grabbing her purse-pack as they go.
Outside, Alice rolls her across the poured-concrete porch to the sidewalk that squares around the house towards the garage and drive. "It hasn't happened yet," Alice explains, "but it's going to. I just saw the accident; I was stocking shelves but I saw the accident and called up Jasper from his study, then I ran here. It was faster than driving through those absurd 25-mile-an-hour speed zones in town. Now we have to hurry because it's going to happen in about half an hour. We can't be in Atlanta by then, but we can be there afterward. That's when he'll need you anyway."
Alice has been babbling almost too fast for Bella's human ears to follow but the words still make her heart race, their dark, dire nature at odds with the bright day that throws rainbows off her granite skin. She risked running all the way from her shop in this summer sunlight? But then, at full speed, she moves too fast for human eyes to see more than a blur. "What accident?" Bella asks as Alice speeds them along to the garage. She's in too much of a hurry to let Bella move herself, although normally all the Cullens are hyper-conscious of Bella's desire for independent movement. "Edward isn't going to be hurt is he?" She didn't think much could hurt a vampire.
"Not Edward. He's fine. But he's on call. He's about to lose his first patient." Her voice is tense and Bella looks over her shoulder as they reach the garage. Alice opens the rear door to let them inside and dashes over to rifle through the key caddy for a spare, then dashes to the old yellow Porsche that Rose has been working on in the evenings. Rose -- and her Tesla -- are at court today while Emmett -- and his Jeep -- are over at the shelter, working on the water heater. That leaves only the newly acquired shelter van or the old Porsche. Of course Alice would choose the Porsche. "Losing a patient . . . it happens eventually to every doctor, but this is a special case." Alice unlocks the car doors, then fetches Bella, plopping her unceremoniously in the passenger seat and breaking down her chair to toss it in back. "Edward's at the children's hospital today."
"Oh," Bella says, suddenly understanding. "It's a child."
"Yes." The garage door is cranking up and Alice already has the engine started. It sounds a bit rough but at least the engine is in the car. Last week, it wasn't.
Alice whips out of the garage and barrels down the private drive, headed for the little county highway to turn south. "Rose might worry about her car . . . " Bella says.
"I left a note," Alice says. Her lips are pursed in determination. "I need to concentrate, Bella. I need to keep the visions at bay so I can drive."
"Okay," Bella says and falls silent, watching the North Georgia countryside zip past at dangerous speeds. Now and then, Alice slows to the speed limit. "Cop," she explains the first time and Bella spots the concealed squad car in a hidden driveway, but once out of sight, Alice speeds up again, sliding in and out of the light traffic on the two-lane highway with grace. Once, however, she finds herself stuck behind a truck of some sort, well back in line and unable to pass. She grinds her teeth and swears under her breath too fast and too low for Bella to understand her. Then they're in the clear again and aren't forced to slow again until they hit the Perimeter. Even there, they don't have to slow much as Alice weaves around the slower-moving cars until the exit for I-85 takes them down into the heart of the city, Decatur, and Emory University.
Children's at Egleston is located right near campus. Even with the roof and tinted side windows, the sunlight glitters dangerously on Alice's knuckles where they grip the steering wheel. "Bella, I can't get out of the car to put together your chair and drop you off. I'll have to go into the parking garage."
"That's fine. I wouldn't know where to find Edward anyway."
Alice takes Clifton Road past the glassy front, turning on a side-street to enter the garage. With pedestrian traffic and college students flitting around, they have to be careful. Alice gets them parked, but then leans her forehead against the steering wheel for a minute, just breathing. Bella waits while she rides out the force of backed-up visions. Finally, she lifts her head, blinking. "He's in the residents' call room. The attending dismissed him after they informed the parents."
Then she's getting out of the vehicle, coming around to Bella's side of the car and fetching out Bella's chair, snapping the wheels on with uncommon force and Bella is glad nobody is around to see a girl who isn't five feet and shouldn't weigh 90 pounds soaking wet manhandling a titanium wheelchair like it was Styrofoam. When she has Bella in the chair, she speed-pushes her towards the elevators. "What exactly happened?" Bella asks. "And why do you think Edward needs me? What can I do?" That has been the question on Bella's mind for most of the trip actually.
"Some boys were climbing trees; one slipped and fell. He cracked his head on a tree root. It split his skull, but didn't kill him. Even so, there was really nothing Edward could have done -- nothing anybody could have done. But Edward -- he doesn't like to lose. Or fail. He's convinced that if he could've used his full speed, he could've saved him. He couldn't." Alice pauses as the elevator reaches the basement where the call rooms are. "Summer falls are common, and head injuries . . . The family lives nearby so the ambulance took him to the closest children's hospital, but it's only a level 3 trauma center. He should've been airlifted to Scottish Rite in North Atlanta, although I doubt even they could've saved him. He dies in every vision I've seen. The surgery team was trying to stabilize him enough to move him, but there's nothing they could have done. Edward has to be told there was nothing he could've done."
Bella turns her head to look up at Alice's face. She has the glassy stare of searching visions. "So why me?" Bella asks again.
Alice refocuses and turns her eyes down. Inside hospital lighting, they look yellow like a cat's. "He needs you," Alice says, as if that's self-evident. Bella starts to ask why again, then stops. She doesn't need to ask, not really. She's just being needlessly dense.
They've reached a nondescript back hallway and Alice has stopped outside a door with a heavy steel knob. She bangs on the door. For a minute, noone answers, then it opens to reveal a disheveled Edward. Bella's heart goes out to him. He looks . . . beaten. His eyes are red-rimmed from tears he can't shed and the gold-gold irises are dimmed, his shoulders are slumped and even his perfect skin looks haggard, his forehead creased in confusion upon seeking them. Alice throws herself at him and hugs him tightly. "There was nothing you could do, Edward. I came to tell you that." Then she moves back to push Bella forward. "I'll see you later." And she's gone.
Bella stares up at him and he blinks back at her. He seems stunned, but she's unsure if it's at their presence or still at the shock of watching a boy die under his care. "Edward?" she says softly.
He steps aside. "Come in."
She wheels past him. There are three beds in the call-room, or really hospital cots, two desks, a small closet and a small cabinet with a microwave and coffee pot. There's also a bathroom with a toilet and shower. It's not a big room, and at the moment, empty of anyone but Edward. There are no windows. "The attending made me leave," Edward said. His hands, Bella notices, are shaking as he shoves them in the pockets of his blue scrubs. "I guess Alice saw . . . ?"
"Yes. I'm sorry." And what was she supposed to say next? This was a new experience for her -- comforting him. Back in Forks, he'd always seemed so much older and more experienced, and after their reunion, she'd been the one in need of comfort insofar as she'd let him offer it. He'd been the strong one, self-assured, certain. He looked none of those things now. As she'd first thought upon seeing him, he looked beaten. "Oh, Edward," she says now, or breathes really, and then acts on instinct. She holds up her arms to him.
He drops to his knees in front of her chair and lays his head in her lap. It's such a gesture of surrender that it takes her a little aback, seeming somehow unEdwardlike. But is it? Edward isn't perfect or all-knowing. He's just a young doctor, her friend, who's lost his first patient and needs a hug. He might believe himself a monster, but he can ache, and he can cry regardless of whether he has working tear ducts. She lays her hand on his head, running fingers through his messy hair. "I'm so sorry," she says again, but with sincerity now, not uncertainty. "I'm so sorry, Edward." He doesn't sob. He just kneels there and lets her rub gentle circles on his back and slide fingers through his hair. She doesn't speak further. Neither does he.
Finally, he breaks the silence. His voice is flat and raw, not at all melodic. "He was only eight -- just eight. What the hell were his friends thinking, letting him get up in that big maple? His whole brain swelled from the impact and we couldn't stop the bleeding. It wasn't controlled like a surgery. He just bled and bled . . . " Abruptly he laughs, but it sounds more like choking. "I didn't want to drink him. It didn't even enter my head. Well, that's not true. It did, but only peripherally. I understand Carlisle now; I was too focused on saving him to think about eating him. But I didn't save him -- "
He cuts off and now he does sob, but only once, a choked sound none too different from his laugh earlier. Bella bends over him to place a chaste kiss on the side of his head. "Alice said there was nothing you could have done."
"I could have worked as fast as I'm really able and to hell with the consequences -- !"
"No, Edward. She said it wouldn't have made any difference. You couldn't have saved him."
"He was only eight . . ."
"Shhh," she says and kisses his hair again. It feels stiff under her lips. She returns to rubbing soothing circles on his back and shoulders. He seems fragile to her, which is funny, considering, but it strikes her that -- whatever Alice suggested -- it's not his own failure he's bemoaning. It's the child's age that he keeps repeating and which seems to have torn him up so much.
"I had to tell his parents," he manages finally. "I had to tell them he was dead. They thanked me for trying. He was their only son. They can't have another. They're good people. Simple, good people. Where the fuck is GOD, Bella? How can a good God let something like this happen? I've never understood that. 'It's just God's will' -- bullshit!"
She says nothing. There's nothing to say. Edward needs to vent and she lets him.
"I could hear what they were thinking when they thanked me. They weren't lying. They don't blame me. But I do. I should've saved him. That's what doctors do. We save people. I've killed . . . " He stops momentarily, then goes on, "I've killed . . . too many. I need to save people. I understand Carlisle now. I finally understand him." He's repeating himself, but she senses it's important and lets him babble for a while, just continues to stroke his hair and face, shoulders and back. And somewhere, a balance rights itself. Give and take. She can't trust unless she's trusted; she can't let herself be weak unless she can also be strong. He's letting her be strong now when he needs it.
After a while, she urges him to his feet and gets him to lie down on the cot he'd claimed and pretends sometimes to sleep on. He rests with his eyes closed and she sits with him. Perhaps forty-five minutes to an hour after she arrived, the door opens to admit another resident. "I came to see how you were, buddy, losing a patient and all -- " The young man stops in the doorway, staring at her. "Who're you?"
"Bella Jackson," Bella says, turning her chair and holding out a hand to him. Behind her, she can hear Edward sitting up on the cot. "I'm an old friend," she adds, answering the unspoken question on his lips.
"Oh." He takes her hand and gives it a shake. "I'm, ah, Chip Clayton." So this is the infamous 'Chip.' He has sandy hair that falls in his eyes and bright blue eyes, and she suspects he woos the ladies with ease. There is a jaunty pull to his shoulders as he eyes her even while she knows she's not a real prospect for him. It's just his habit in the presence of a woman. "So you know Masen?"
"Yes," Bella says. She'd just told him as much, after all. He's fishing, looking for more information, but she's not inclined to bite. "We were just heading out to get some coffee." She doubts Edward wants to be trapped in the little call room with a 'sympathetic' Chip Clayton. "It was nice to meet you." She twists to see Edward's face. "Ready?"
His expression is grateful as he rises to follow her out. Chip must step aside so she can wheel past him as Edward holds the door. "You want some company?" Chip asks.
He's nosey, Bella thinks. "No," she says. "But thank you for the offer." It's polite, but final. Chip is forced to go back where he came from or stay in the room.
Fifty feet down the corridor, Edward says, "Thanks. I think I'd have throttled him if I'd had to put up with him today."
She shoots him a glance. Overhead fluorescent lights make his bronze hair look tarnished. "The secret to handling difficult people in conversations is to keep control of the exchange. Don't let him lead you."
"I'll keep that in mind, Dr. Jackson."
"I'm not a doctor yet, Edward. A long way from it. Like a whole dissertation from it. You know that."
He doesn't reply, saying instead, "Alice is coming," and stops walking, turning around. Bella stops to look and hears the patter of Alice's feet hurrying down the hall behind them. She's wearing ballet slippers with leather soles and they make a soft brush on the vinyl flooring. She hugs her brother again. "You didn't have to leave, you know," he tells her.
She just shrugs and gives him a half smile, then darts a glance at Bella. Bella doesn't have to be a mind-reader to know what she's thinking. Edward had needed release but wouldn't have been able to let go in front of them both. Male pride. One person seeing had been hard enough for him. He and Alice might've been born in the same year and she might've been older when turned, but he still thinks of himself as the big brother. It isn't lost on Bella that once he wouldn't have cried in front of her either; he'd have felt the need to be strong. She remembers what his hair had felt like under her fingers with his head in her lap and smiles up at him when he looks at her. She doesn't see perfection anymore. She sees messy hair and a willing vulnerability as he smiles back, just a little. There's still sadness in his eyes, but he smiles back.
Notes: The hospital, for the curious: http://www.choa.org/default.aspx?id=39
Go on to Part 27
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