Wayward ➳ Edward Cullen

22. Healing Pains

The steady beep of machinery and the tinny sound of a crowd cheering greeted me. The smell of cleaning chemicals was strong in the air. A soft mattress held me, while a thin blanket that did little to chase away the room's chill covered me.

Opening my eyes, I found a small television mounted on a wall across a narrow room. The birds eye view of a football game played on it. Beneath was a small counter next to a tall cabinet. Immediately beside me a vitals' monitor quietly beeped as several stats were displayed on the screen. Near it was an IV stand where liquid-filled pouches and dangling tubes hung.

In a chair beyond it all sat Bobby Singer. Hunched forward, his eyes were glued to the television set. My mouth was dry, my lips cracked, but I managed a low, rasping murmur. "Bobby?"

He looked over and stood. Relief shone in his eyes as he stepped to the side of my bed. "Hey, girl." He picked up a styrofoam cup from a nearby tray and directed its straw near my mouth. "Here."

As soon as I took a few sips, my mouth and throat felt better. As he moved the cup away, I lifted my hand to find it bandaged. My other arm was in a sling, immobile. "What—"

"Vampires with guns," Bobby said lightly as he set the cup back down. "What's the damn world comin' to?"

The pop of the nine-millimeter firing. Blood dripping down my arm. Dad biting my hand. Mom's spirit, a pillar of fire. Edward sucking out the venom.

"How—"

Bobby glanced over his shoulder. Turning back, he explained, "Dean found you in time. Managed to get you to the hospital."

"Dean? He's here?" I asked, glancing around. There was a cot along the wall, but whoever was on it was obscured by Bobby.

"He went to get something to eat." Frowning, Bobby was silent for a moment before adding, "Guess your dad got a line on the demon that killed your mom, or he'd be here, too."

I stared up at Bobby. He must not have known Dad was a newborn vampire. What had happened after Dean and the Cullens arrived?

Bobby must've interpreted my silence as disappointment. He lifted his baseball cap up to scratch his head. "I'm sure he'd be here if it weren't important." He didn't sound too convinced of that.

"Yeah," I said.

"Why don't I go get Dean. Let him know you're awake," Bobby finished, laying a hand on my good shoulder and patting it.

I nodded.

Bobby walked around the bed and headed to a nearby door. Before he walked through it, I called, "Hey, Bobby?" Pausing, Bobby looked over his shoulder. "Thanks." I managed a little smile. "For coming."

Glancing at the ground, Bobby shifted the bill of his cap again. "'Course," he muttered. He cleared his throat and walked out.

I settled my head into the pillow and, closing my eyes, sighed.

"Sarah."

The silken call had my eyes swiftly opening again. Edward. He stood up from the cot and moved beside the bed.

"Edward." His cold hand encompassed my unbandaged one. Ignoring the trickle of pain that made it past whatever drugs I was on, I squeezed back. Considering what I'd just gone through, it was barely a prick of discomfort. "What happened? Where's Dad?"

"Physically, he's fine," Edward replied, settling next to me on the mattress. "Emmett, Jasper, and Alice took him back to the house. He's agreed to stay."

Some tension left with a long breath I let out. "Good."

"He's very worried about you," Edward went on after a moment.