"It is madness for sheep to talk peace with the wolf."

—Thomas Fuller

You know how there is this cliché idea that when you wake up in a hospital, everything always seems super bright, almost surreal? Yeah, that's a load of bull. There's no gradual rousing, no slight squinting invoked. It is not peaceful, it's not gentle. It is rude and glaring and painful. Very painful.

Bella groaned as she turned over in the most uncomfortable bed she had ever laid in. This was not healing, this was torture. It was constant watching and it was constant questions and it was a constant stream of needles. Oh god, Bella hated needles. She really hated them. But at least they provided a distraction.

She didn't think about Sam's hurt face when the doctor was setting her leg into place. She didn't think about those tears clouding his bronze irises when she herself was crying through pounding concussive headaches. And Bella most certainly did not think about Sam's turned back when those damn needles penetrated her skin. Yes, she knew it would end at some point. She knew she would go home soon. But oh god, it was so great to have the best distraction of all. Pain.

Yet, the pain was not constant, Sam still managed to stay on her mind through every free moment. Constant and cruel, the memories of him struck her like lightning drawn to the tallest tree. From her highest branches to her deepest roots, she was charred by the voltage, by every moment. It was like torture and it was like clarity. Pure clarity, the terrible kind that shows you every mistake you made and every word you should never have said. And oh, there were so many things she should not have said.

Sam was torn. He was torn in two. No, he was far more destroyed than that. It was as if his entire being had been obliterated. Sure, he probably sounded like some heartbroken teenage girl, but it was how he felt. There was no other explanation for the horrible ripping sensation he felt as he stormed out of the house. He began to run, the feeling only growing stronger as he neared the deep forests of La Push.

Suddenly, it turned physical. Running faster, Sam fell to his hands and knees. Yet, he kept moving, running, like some sort of dog, like some sort of…wolf? Faster and faster, he ran. He ran from Bella, from these strange thoughts. He ran and he ran and then he ran more. How much time had passed? The young man could not tell you. Trees blurred on either side of him, exhaustion seemingly a thing for weaker beings. And then suddenly, he came upon a lake. He stopped right at the edge, trembling in pain, both mental and physical. Looking down, Sam peered into the water, into his reflection, a reflection of a wolf. And he cried.