Author: ReneeSue PM
One partially collapsed hospital, six people and a broken finger. Bella and co have to survive together while they wait for help to remove debris trapping them in a hospital basement. There are good times and bad times, but can everyone band together?Rated: Fiction M - English - Tragedy/Romance - Edward & Bella - Chapters: 11 - Words: 21,017 - Reviews: 376 - Favs: 150 - Follows: 323 - Updated: 09-22-09 - Published: 09-05-08 - id: 4521399
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/n: Ok everyone who was reading living the dream this is the story that took over. I am co-writing this with Evendoe who I beta for. This is slightly based off of 9/11 and If you ask what 9/11 is I'll scream! Let us know what you think!
Chapter One: Disaster Strikes
I can't believe I broke my stupid finger. I broke it slamming my truck's door closed and my stupid hand got in the way. I've now had to go the emergency and wait for four hours, sitting next to huge, loud guy who's dislocated his shoulder. Some nurse—ok, she's sort of more than just some nurse; she's flawless—is flirting with him and the big guy with curly hair is flirting right back.
Then two doctors walk in. One is male, tall, and rather good-looking—heck, he's beautiful—and the other is strangely tiny, female —her defining feature being the short spiky black hair that covers her head.
"Rosalie," The man says in a rather bored tone. "Stop flirting with your patients. Can you get your brother for me please? I want to talk to him when I'm finished with muscle man here."
"Sorry Edward," The blonde replies, not sorry at all. She flashes a smile at the brawly man next to me as she leaves.
The doctor, Edward, holds his hand out for my chart. I notice his bored expression changing when he looks at my face, suddenly becoming softer, more polite. "Miss Swan, is it?" He cracks a sly grin. "This is Dr. Brandon," he introduces the other doctor to me. "She's going to look at your finger for us and find out if it's broken." Now is he flirting, or is he flirting? I mean, I'm very flattered, but surely that's against protocol or something. I just nod though and look ponderingly down at my finger, which is now swollen and bruised.
"What did you do?" Dr. Brandon frowns at my hand as well. It looks comically large in her frail, tiny hands.
"I slammed my truck's door shut and my hand got in the way," I inform her, wincing as she applies too much pressure, causing pain to shoot up my arm.
"It's broken all right," she agrees, turning to the good-looking doc.
"Ok." He nods. "Put a stack splint on it." He then turns to me. "Does it hurt much?" Ok, he is seriously good looking. As in, I am now finding it hard to get my words out because I can't help but stare at his face. So instead, I do this weird half-nod-half-shrug thing. Smooth, Bella.
The doctor inspecting my finger laughs lightly. "Too hard for pain meds, are you?" she teases.
How unprofessional! My mind scoffs. Except I find I don't mind it; she was nice about it, and it hadn't come out rude at all.
"Maybe," I cock my chin to the side. Without Hot Doc in my vision, my brain is functioning properly.
"Ow!" The guy next to me groans and I whip my head around to see what's going on. Hot Doc is examining the guy's shoulder.
"You could've told me you were going on three." The guy complains. "I though you were going after three."
"Well, I'm sorry…" Hot Doc sounds irritated, and he picks up Big Guy's chart. "…Emmett. Next time you come in here with a dislocated shoulder we'll discuss it before hand."
"Aren't you hilarious," Emmett's voice is dripping acid.
"And you're healed." Hot Doc quips back. He signs something on the chart and rips off a slip, handing it to Emmett. "Hand this to reception and then you're free."
"But I want to say goodbye to Rose," Emmett frowns, peering around Hot Doc.
I'd been so engrossed in the conversation next to me, I hadn't noticed my own doctor treating me—the splint is now attached to my broken finger. Except it doesn't look like a splint, but a really weird ring—like a finger-shield, or something. A crappy imitation of part of a gauntlet, perhaps.
"Ew," I frown at the offending plastic thing. "Can't I at least have something impressive? This doesn't scream 'gory-broken-finger' at all."
"Would you rather we put on an aluminium splint and you won't have any flexibility in your finger and you won't be able to use that finger at all?" Hot Doc has come over and he's wearing a sarcastic half-grin, but it just makes him look even hotter.
A very tall, blonde man walks over then, tapping Hot Doc's shoulder. "Rose said you needed me, Edward?" The man says, his voice muted. I don't miss the small smile he gives Dr Brandon who is filling something out on my form. She smiles back, giving him a little finger wave.
Movement at the corner of my eye tells me the nurse has returned, and is, once again, flirting with Emmett. The emergency room has certainly changed since my last visit.
Hot Doc—Edward—is talking to the blonde man when the lights start flickering. Everyone looks up, like the lights are going to give them the answers as to why they're not working properly. But before the lights can say anything, there is a crashing boom followed by a loud, rusty groan. I'm knocked off the bed and onto the floor. My head hits the corner of something, sending a sharp pain down my neck and everything goes black
My eyes blink open and shut. I try to move, but I'm being pinned down by something heavy and uncomfortable. What happened? Wasn't I just in the hospital getting my finger checked? I blink again and dust trickles onto my face.
"Isabella!" Someone calls my name, sounding worried. I try moving my arms to get whatever it is that's on top of me off.
The voice calls again, more desperately this time.
"Here!" I cry out, wriggling around under the debris. Dust lifts around me, getting down my throat. Note to self: Don't open mouth.
"Be careful Emmett. Remove the debris gently, you could make something worse if you just try to get her out." I recognize Edward's, Hot Doc's, voice.
"Oh my god! Oh my god!" Someone shrieks.
"Jasper, can you calm Alice down?" Edward asks, irritated.
"I think I've almost got her," Emmett yells. That would explain the strange moving around me, the weight on top of me getting lighter. What is he going to do to me?
Suddenly, I feel myself being lifted. My body aches and I can already feel bruises forming.
"Careful!" Edward cries. That boy needs to calm down, or he's going to give me an aneurism. I look down at myself from the awkward position Emmett has me in. My clothes look ok, considering, but I'm covered in cuts, and another of my fingers isn't feeling that great.
"Isabella, I need you to tell me where it hurts," Edward orders a few moments later, in a calmer voice.
"It's Bella," I mutter under my breath, getting annoyed with the formalities. Can't he just give me mouth-to-mouth, or something?
"What?" he asks, confused.
"Call me Bella," I repeat.
But the pain is starting to kick in now, and I will myself not to cry. I steal a glance around the room; the small doctor, Alice, is in the blond man's arms and the nurse is sorting through a cupboard.
"Ok, Bella, where does it hurt?" Edward asks, his hands fluttering everywhere, not sure where to go first.
"Everywhere," I moan, wanting those hands everywhere. But he takes me seriously and just nods, taking things from the nurse to bandage my cuts.
"What's happening?" I ask. I can't stop my voice from shaking, though I wish it would.
"I'm not sure, we think it must've been an earthquake, or something. It looks like half this side of the building just collapsed." His fingers are running over my head, looking for injuries.
"An earthquake? In Seattle? What about that raging storm outside? You don't think that could've had something to do with it?"
"Well I don't know. Maybe the storm is actually a tornado or something. I do know the ceiling caved in. Talk about bad luck, you were right underneath it."
"Trust me." I mutter under my breath. Edward is about to say something, but a familiar noise starts going off in my pocket, cutting him off. I look down in surprise and pull out my cell phone.
A brief look at the caller id and I'm struggling to pick up, my hand shaking. Of course, the fact that I have a splint on my finger doesn't help.
"Jacob?" I cry into the phone after I finally get it open.
"Bella? Where are you? The hospital was bombed. I know you, Bella, please tell me you're not there!" His familiar voice is calming, reassuring in this crazy situation.
"You bet I'm in the hospital," I try to joke. "I broke my finger earlier and I was still in here when the earthquake happened. Do you have any idea what happened? Because I'm having real trouble dealing with the idea that it was an earthquake, in Seattle."
"You sure you're ok?" He demanded.
"Perfect, apart from a really sore hand. So do you know when we're going to get out of here? Or why the hell the hospital can't even hold up in a storm? Because this is really quite annoying, you know—"
"Bella," Jake stops me in my tracks. "Didn't you hear me before? I said bomb. Someone planted bombs in a whole bunch of places around the country."
I take a deep breath. Did he say what I think he said?
Edward and the others are all looking at me, trying to extract information from the look on my face, but my expression is frozen. Surely Jake didn't just say bomb… right?
"Are you ok, though?" Jake's voice is demanding.
"Yeah… A bomb?" I repeat. "Really?" It still hasn't sunk in.
"That's what the News is saying."
Edward's eyes are wide now, his hands on my upper arms, fingers wrapped all the way around.
"That would explain why the ceiling fell on top of me." My voice is empty, echoing in the silence around me.
"Are you ok?" An engine starts in the background and I snap back to reality.
"I'm fine, Jake. Don't be stupid and come here. It's a hospital, it's full of doctors, and it's dangerous." He starts to interrupt but I stop him. "Take care of yourself, Jake. I'll talk to you later."
"I'll see you outside, Bella. In a few hours, I promise."
"May I borrow your phone?" Edward asks when I hang up. I can't understand the look on his face.
"Of course." I hand him the phone.
"Thanks," he smiles. My heart thumps. That smile is gorgeous. He is gorgeous.
He dials swiftly, sure of the numbers. "Mom?" he cries and the smile gets bigger, lighting up his face. "Yes, we're ok for now." He continues. "Yes, there are patients in here with me. I love you Mom. Yeah, let Dad know, I'm sure he'll be part of the rescue efforts." He finished and shut the phone.
"I should call my Dad," I whisper, looking up into Edward's face.
"Go ahead," he shrugs, handing my phone back.
The phone picks up straight away, not even getting through the first ring.
"You're not calling to tell me you're in that hospital are you?" Dad sighs, wearily, already knowing the answer.
"I'm ok, the ceiling kind of collapsed on me, but I'm fine. Only a few scrapes and bruises, and my finger was already broken. I don't suppose you can tell us what the hell happened? Jacob said something about a bomb…?"
"We know it was a bomb. There were several other attacks in the country. Don't worry, Bells, there are masses of people helping us. We'll get you out."
"Bombs?" So Jake was right?
"Yes, now don't panic. I've got to go—I have a meeting with the mayor. We have bulldozers and medics coming to get you. Don't worry." He's rushed and a buzzing sound goes off in the background.
"But—Dad!" I protest, but it's too late. The line is already dead.
I look up at Edward's face to feel the panic start.
"What was that I heard about bombs?" He asks in a whisper.
"It- it wasn't an earthquake, or the storm. It-it was a bomb," My voice is barely there, I still can't process the information.
There's a loud groaning sound and I look up from my hands, my eyes wide. What now?
"What was that?" Dr Brandon shrieks, looking around.
"I think it was the building, it's going to collapse!" The nurse screams, pulling Emmett towards her. Talk about Drama Queen. Alice screams and holds tighter onto the blonde man. The place groans again, and a few ceiling tiles fall to the floor.
Edward suddenly pulls me into his arms and holds me against his chest protectively. I lean into him automatically, he's warm and I feel safe. And very comfortable.
"We're going to die!" Rosalie sobs into Emmett's chest.
Ugh, can't she shut up? "If the building is going to collapse," I say, getting off of Edward (a little bit regretfully). "Then why are we sitting around crying and waiting to be crushed?"