AN: Hi! This is a little something I wrote for a contest. I had to use the words permanence, erratic, omnipresent, noble, detest, inconsequential, sauntered, and exiled. It takes place during Bella and Edward's first summer together...and it was inspired by too much Grey's Anatomy ha ha. :) I never wrote in this style before (the tense), so it was a bit of an experiment, but Edward is a ton of fun to write...all dark and depressed. :P

Enjoy!

Waiting Thoughts

Usually my mind is soaring with thoughts: my own thoughts and the thoughts of those around me. I can never truly block them out, and they have become a part of my life. Their permanence used to drive me mad, but I have learned to adjust. To an extent, I can no longer function without them. I am far too used to knowing everything.

Hospitals are always the worst – full of thoughts of fear, pain, and lost hope. I can feel these thoughts drifting at the corners of my mind, but they never become coherent to me. I have my own fair share of these thoughts, and that is more than my mind can handle.

I take a deep, trembling breath, and rest my head in my hands. If I was human, I would be sweating and my heartbeat would be erratic and violent. That is how it should be, but instead I am as stiff and cold as a statue. My body has no physical reaction to what has happened.

My thoughts jerk away from my heart as the scent of her blood hits me. It is faint, but distinct. My body has a reaction to it: venom attempts to enter my mouth and my body readies for the hunt. I bite my lip at the cruelty of it all. I am a predator, and thus my body is built for the chase. It is not made to fall in love with a human. It is not made to react when that human stands in the doorway of death.

My ears pick up the sound of the waiting room door opening, and a familiar scent reaches me. I look up as Mike Newton enters the room, his eyes glancing around for someone he knows. His eyes land on me. I watch as his face becomes hesitant for a moment, but he pulls it in with a mask of confidence. After all this time, he still believes that there is a competition between us. This thought almost makes me laugh. Our petty, non-verbal contest for Bella seems inconsequential now. Everything pales in comparison to this moment.

Newton puts his hands in his pockets, and moves toward me. When he reaches me, he asks about Bella. The urge to snap his neck is nearly overwhelming. When he sauntered toward me, he tried to be carefree and unperturbed. He tried to be cool. If he truly cared about Bella, competition would have been dropped at the door.

I took another breath. It is not his fault. He doesn't know. He doesn't know.

He doesn't know all the pints of blood she lost. He doesn't know about her crushed abdomen. He doesn't know the extent of the wounds to her head. He doesn't know that, because of a drunk driver, she is in surgery fighting for her life.

Mike is saying something about Jessica and Angela coming, but I can't find the strength to care. All my strength is being used to remain in this room, away from her blood. Carlisle told me to let the doctors do their best. They couldn't do their best if I was there. He told me to sit, wait, and pray. It is harder than he knows. He has never been exiled from his dying love before.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and my head falls back into my hands. I detest this. I detest that she is hurt. I detest the drunk driver for hurting her. I detest the waiting. I detest Mike Newton for faking nonchalance. And I especially detest myself for not being in that car to save her.

I let out of sound. I can count on one hand the amount of times I have let out that sound in the past hundred years. It is a sound that has no tears to accompany it. This was to be a beautiful summer: our first together. Why did this have to happen to her?

Edward?

At the presence of my father's thought, my head snaps up. His honey-colored eyes are looking at me from across the room. They are grim and solemn, and I know what he has to tell me without a word being spoken.

My heart is alive, and it is in pain. It can't be…

You have a decision to make.

I know what he is referring to. He means to tell me that there is still time. Still time to be strong, noble Edward and save her. There is still time to be her hero. But to save her means to condemn her. It is a decision I have struggled with since the moment I knew I loved her. Now, I have to make it. If I couldn't make it in months, how could I possibly make it in seconds?

"What would you do?"

He hears me even though I whisper the words. Carlisle will know the right road to take. He is the omnipresent force in my life; I have made thousands of decisions based off of his knowledge and compassion. He always knows what to do.

That's not the question you should be asking.

He won't tell me; the burden of this decision is mine alone. A sob escapes me as the pain overtakes me again, but his voice rings out in my mind once more.

What would Bella want?

The chaos and pain stops. For a moment time freezes, and a small path makes itself known to me. I know the answer to this question. She had given it to me many times.

I stand up and walk toward my father, leaving Newton behind. My heart makes this decision before my mind, but Bella made it before either one. This is what she wants. She wants her three days. She wants an eternity. She wants to risk her soul for me. I can't deny her what she wants in the face of death.

I love her far too much.