The sterile white walls of Forks General seemed to hum softly under the dim fluorescent lights. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and rain-soaked pavement, the scent of a small-town hospital that rarely saw much excitement.
Outside, the storm hadn't let up; streaks of rain ran down the windows like silver threads, distorting the view of the dark evergreens swaying in the wind.
Bella Swan sat on the hospital bed, a thin blanket over her lap, the scratchy fabric doing little to warm her. Her heart still raced, not from pain, but from shock.
The crash replayed in her head over and over: the blinding flash of metal, the sound of tires shrieking against wet asphalt, and the impossible, utterly impossible, sight of Edward Cullen stopping the van with his bare hand.
She stared at her hands now, noticing how they trembled. "I'm fine," she muttered again, as if saying it aloud would make it true.
Across the room, Tyler Crowley sat in a wheelchair, head wrapped in gauze, his expression a mix of guilt and disbelief.
"Bella, I'm so sorry," he kept saying. "I didn't see the ice— I swear—"
"It wasn't your fault," Bella interrupted quietly, though her voice was distant. "It's okay, Tyler. Really."
The curtain shifted slightly, and Bella's father stepped in. Charlie Swan looked more worn than usual, his police uniform damp from the rain. His worry softened his usual stoic face.
"Hey, kiddo," he said, his tone rough but gentle. "You okay?"
"I'm fine, Dad," Bella repeated, forcing a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Charlie's eyes flicked to Tyler, then to the nurse checking Bella's vitals.
"The doctor said you might have a mild concussion," he said. "You should've seen the scene outside, that van's totaled."
Bella's breath caught. "Is Edward okay?" she asked, a little too quickly.
Charlie frowned. "Edward Cullen? He's fine. Just a few feet away from being crushed, from what I heard. Lucky kid." He didn't notice the way Bella's fingers tightened around the edge of the blanket.
The door opened again, and Dr. Carlisle Cullen entered, tall, impossibly calm, and as immaculate as ever. His blond hair caught the sterile light like a halo.
"Bella" he greeted warmly. "You're very lucky."
She stared at him, searching his face for any hint of the truth. "Lucky," she echoed, testing the word.
"That's one way to put it."
Carlisle smiled faintly, almost knowing. "You might have some bruising, but nothing serious. I'd like you to stay for observation just a bit longer."
Bella hesitated. "Can I see Edward?"
Carlisle's smile didn't falter, but there was something almost imperceptible in his eyes, a flicker of caution. "He's down the hall. I'll let him know you asked."
As the doctor left, Bella's pulse picked up again. Her mind raced through questions that made no sense. No human could've moved that fast. No one could've stopped a van with their hand. She wasn't imagining it, she couldn't have been.
Moments later, the door opened again, quietly this time, and Edward Cullen stepped in.
He looked completely unscathed. Not even a scratch. His bronze hair was perfectly disheveled, his pale skin flawless under the harsh light. He met her eyes, that strange, unreadable expression locked in place.
"You okay?" he asked softly, voice smooth as glass.
Bella narrowed her eyes. "You tell me," she shot back. "You were standing next to your car, and then you weren't."
Edward's lips twitched. "I had to make sure you were safe."
"That doesn't answer my question," she pressed. Her frustration broke through the fog of confusion. "You pushed that van away. I saw you."
He looked away for a second, jaw tightening. "No one's going to believe you," he said quietly. "You hit your head, that's what people will think."
"Then what should I think?" she whispered.
Edward's gaze locked with hers again, and for a heartbeat, the air between them seemed to hum, charged, like the pause before thunder. "Think whatever you want, Bella," he said finally. "But I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone."
She stared at him, torn between anger and awe. "You're impossible."
"So they tell me," he murmured, a hint of a smirk ghosting across his lips.
Before Bella could say more, Charlie reappeared at the door, clearing his throat. "Is everything good here?"
Edward straightened immediately, that perfect polite smile sliding back into place.
"Just checking on Bella, sir."
Charlie nodded stiffly. "Right. Well, thank you."
Edward's eyes flicked to Bella one last time, a look that said everything he wouldn't, and then he slipped past Charlie, silent as a shadow.
Bella sat back against the pillow, staring after him, her pulse still unsteady. Outside, thunder rolled softly across the sky.
Whatever had happened in that parking lot, it wasn't human.
And deep down, she knew it.
[5 Minutes Before]
The hallway outside Bella Swan's hospital room was empty, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh, sterile glow over the polished linoleum. Rain streaked the windows, drumming a steady rhythm that filled the silence.
Edward Cullen stood rigid, pale and tense, his gaze locked on the door ahead. Across from him, Rosalie Hale prowled, golden eyes blazing with fury.
"You didn't think!" she hissed, voice low but sharp enough to cut through the air. "You could have exposed us, everything, to humans. You saved Bella, yes, but Bella and Aiden saw you!"
Edward froze. "Aiden?" he asked softly, a surprise flickering in his eyes. "I… I wasn't aware he saw me. He was delirious, barely conscious, it's a toss-up whether he remembers anything."
Rosalie's glare hardened.
"Exactly. And do you think that matters? One slip, one word, and we're all in danger. We'd have to move, be on the run from the Volturi. You risked everything for one girl!"
Edward's jaw tightened. "I had to act. Bella's life was in immediate danger."
Rosalie scoffed. "And you risked it all… for someone you barely know!"
Edward's voice softened, thoughtful now, almost challenging. "If you were in my shoes… what would you do?"
Rosalie's lips pressed together. She hesitated, but he didn't let her answer. He reached out subtly with his mind, reading the fragments of her thoughts, the concern for Aiden, the memory of his injuries, the boy lying in a hospital bed. The guilt she refused to voice, and the realization that he understood it all.
She stiffened under his gaze.
"You can't criticize me," she snapped, her voice sharp, rising an octave.
"I've done nothing wrong. I think with my head, Edward, not with my dick, like you do!"
Edward said nothing, letting the accusation hang between them. Rosalie's chest rose and fell rapidly as her frustration simmered, eyes flicking toward Aiden's wing before turning back to him.
Before the argument could escalate further, Carlisle Cullen appeared at the corner, calm and composed.
"Enough," he said gently, his presence smoothing the edges of their tension. "Edward, Bella wants to see you. Go to her."
Rosalie's gaze lingered on Edward for one last moment, her expression a mixture of anger and reluctant acknowledgment. Then she stormed off, giving him one final jab under her breath.
Carlisle glanced toward Edward, his voice soft but firm. "And Edward… she's angry, yes, but you need to focus. I'll check on the other patient."
Edward exhaled slowly, tension in his shoulders easing slightly. One life saved. One secret is protected. He turned toward the door and stepped inside, leaving the corridor, and Rosalie's fury, behind him.
[3 Minutes Later]
The hallway outside Aiden's room was quiet, the soft tapping of rain against the windows filling the air. Rosalie Hale slipped silently inside, moving like a shadow, her gaze immediately falling on the boy lying still in the hospital bed. His breathing was even at last, his face calm under the bright fluorescent lights.
Carlisle Cullen followed quietly, his presence steady and reassuring.
"You need to be easy on Edward," Carlisle said softly. "He understands the circumstances. He's just… new to this experience."
Rosalie snorted softly, a faint smirk touching her lips. "New? Takes him 118 years to grasp one human, and you call him new?"
She glanced at Carlisle, the edge in her voice softening slightly.
"I suppose I understand what you mean. But I worry about the future. If the Volturi knew… or anyone… Edward should have been more careful."
Carlisle's voice remained calm, measured.
"Don't worry. He did what was necessary. Focusing on the Aiden now." He leaned over Aiden's charts and vitals.
"His arm has been set, he's on medication, and his vitals are stable. The rest… only time will tell."
Rosalie stepped closer, brushing a curl of brown hair from Aiden's forehead. She lowered her head, and a soft, almost imperceptible melody escaped her lips, a tune she had learned from her mother long ago, a lullaby that had comforted her when she was a girl. It was intimate, tender, a private thread of humanity threading through her inhuman existence.
Her mind wandered as she hummed, thoughts tangled between worry and something unspoken.
Cold hands… hot body… fragile, alive…
The contrast pulled at her attention, yet she continued softly, letting the melody flow through the room like a quiet shield against fear.
Carlisle watched her carefully but said nothing, letting her small act of care linger, grounding the room in calm. The storm outside softened into a gentle drizzle, and the wing felt suspended, caught in its own delicate quiet.
Rosalie continued humming, almost unconsciously, until the rise and fall of Aiden's chest reminded her that for now, he was safe, and she had done what she could.