A/N: All right, you guys were really patient for waiting for me to finish this. Thanks! Anyway, at this rate, I'm trying to update every week. Maybe on Saturdays or Sundays. I'll see. Well, anyway, the title is based on Paramore's song on the twilight soundtrack: Decode. Obviously I don't own the song. I also don't own the characters; that's all Stephanie Meyer's doing. Now, that that's all cleared up, here's the next chapter! Thanks for looking this, and… good luck getting through this! Its dense, and I'm not going to make it easy for them.

Thanks for all the favoriting and the response to the pilot chapter! I appreciate each and every one of your reviews, I really do. 3 Thank you, my readers.

My shoulders were stiff as I came back to consciousness. I mentally cringed. Where the hell was I? My memory was fuzzy around the edges. It was almost like I was behind this bridge leading to the truth. I remembered this guy, this hot guy. But his face was etched into my memory in a cold, sinister smile that I think I put there.

Fuck.

I didn't get much more. I remember being lifted softly into the sky, and coming back down. Multiple times this process repeated. Crap. Charlie was probably freaking out, and so was Angela. Was I really alive at this moment? No, probably not. I wanted to crack my bones- it was so awkward sitting here.

I searched a little further into this memory, and came up with nothing but Alice's little words to live by. "I think you both need to realize how you could help eachother." How you could help eachother. H-E-L-P. Eachother.

But since when was I taking Alice Brandon Cullen's fucking advice? Since the zombie apocalypse. Exactly- never.

I tried to open my eyes, but breathing was the only thing manageable right now. Whatever. I tried to open my ears, and I couldn't real form words, but I could form voices.

There was a manly, rough, yet strangely comforting voice. That was probably Charlie. It seemed concerned, but, well, I could understand that. It was conversing with a flitty, soft, yet upbeat- for the situation, at least- voice that I had come to understand as Renee.

Then, there was the doctors voice. He was closest. His muffled words were filled with covered emotion. This was interesting, hearing emotions, but no words.

And finally, we'd come upon the best voice of them all. The perfect, velvet-like voice belonging to the love of my life, and my soul- I'd finally connected 'that hot guy' and recognized him as Edward… Cullen. Edward Cullen.

The man I'd cried, fainted, and burned a house down for. Oh, right. I'd burned a fucking house down. Great. That house was Grandma Swan's. Charlie was going to kill me.

The words were coming in clearer now. I was dying to move, but scrunching up my face was too agonizing, and it took too much work. Finally, I decided upon twitching my hand. Hard, but not anything I couldn't accomplish.

It hurt more than I fucking I imagined, but I tried to ignore it. This was about waking up- not that I wanted to, but I guess that wasn't really the important part, here, now was it?

No.

Okay, I seriously need therapy.

"She's twitched her hand." Edward's voice. It was urgent, needing. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. I knew that. I'd been the one to do it. Oh, fuck it. No one would see my eyes. I doubted anyone had for some time.

The door opened. "Hey, how is she doing, Renee? Charlie?" I think it was Angela Weber. Then her voice turned cold. "Edward." She sneered. "What do you think you're doing here, asshole?" Jesus Christ, I didn't know that she had it in her! All that talk with the popular girls probably got her up into the running.

"I'm here because I care, you bitch." He snapped. "And it fucking seems like you don't have enough respect to just let her rest. Your sneering probably woke her up." Angela probably scowled. Nobody said anything, and I expected Angela to make a comeback, but she didn't.

"How long has she been out?" She finally asked. I would have asked myself, but that's kind of hard when your mouth isn't really intent on moving, and breathing by itself is a challenge all on its own.

"About two days, but it feels like ten weeks." Renee answered solemnly. Oh, wow. My own mother actually cared about me for a change. So THIS is what it feels like to be loved. Maybe I should pull a stunt like this quite a bit more often.

"Hey, isn't she waking up?" I felt my entire build shake at that comment. It gave me hope. I decided it was time. I opened one eyelid and then the other at nearly the same time, and instead of shapes, I saw a blinding white light.

"Gah!" I screamed, my voice raw from dehydration. Everyone in the room gasped and I visibly tensed, having hated to cause that much attention. I was then met with bright green emerald eyes staring into me. I blinked a couple times, and then I really saw them. They were filled with pain, sadness, weary, and concern, but most of all, the one standing out, was regret. Suddenly, his face flashed into a mask- probably for me.

"Bella," He whispered softly. I tried to say his name but it hurt too much. My throat was constricting on me; closing my access to air.

"Wa..t.." I coughed, hard. Then, at that moment, I saw Edward's arms wrap around me. "Drink this, sweetheart." He said lovingly. I looked into his eyes, mine already filled with questions of my own.

I drank up, but before I did, I spoke to him, and he spoke to me. In unison, we spoke quietly. "You have some serious fucking explaining to do."

A/N: I know this is short, but I promise to update more frequently at this size.

Xoxo, Kasey.