From another point of view (Outtakes from 'Trust me')

Outtake #1: Because ice would melt

When I saw the 112 in Jacob’s mind as he read the thermometer, I snatched it out of his hand, and forced a glass of water in front of him.

I hoped to hide the reality from my father as long as possible, but I knew I needed his assistance no matter how upset he would be at learning the extent of Jacob’s fever.

I could hear snippets of conversation below as I began moving quickly around the room, trying to work out what Jacob may need to get through the night.

Carlisle didn’t need Jasper to tell him I was agitated by the reading, of which they didn’t know the specifics because Jacob hadn’t said it out loud, and I hadn’t dared to.

“Edward, what’s wrong?” Carlisle asked me, walking slowly towards the stairs in case I needed his assistance.

“His temperature is 112,” I hissed quickly at the same time that I loudly filled up another glass for Jacob to drink from once he finished the first. It provided the perfect amount of noise to mask my words to my father.

“We need to act fast,” Carlisle warned me, but of course, I was already prepared to act as quickly as needed. “You must do as I ask of you,” my father insisted, which of course, I was more than willing to do; I had never refused to obey my father’s instructions regarding anything medical. But somehow I had the feeling from Carlisle’s tone that I may not be willing to obey him this time. I was about to question him, but at that moment Carlisle requested I find out how Jacob was going.

Putting my own question aside momentarily, I asked Jacob:

“How do you feel?” I waited for his answer feeling apprehensive and on edge; if Jacob didn’t start improving shortly, I knew we would all be in for a difficult night.

I was relieved to hear through Jacob’s thoughts that the water I gave him to drink made him feel slightly better, but as I expected he was still sweating profusely and was uncomfortably hot. Before I could think of what to do next or how I was going to relay Jacob’s silent thoughts to Carlisle, who for whatever reason trusted me to handle this feverish Jacob on my own, I was bombarded with a repeat of easy ways Jacob thought he could cool down. Immediately I began shaking my head in response having already devised arguments against these very ideas moments before. I knew there was no point experimenting with his suggestions; as easy as it would have made all of our lives, ice was guaranteed to melt.

Why not? he demanded, annoyed that I was already shaking my head, apparently without considering his ideas.

“Your fever is serious,” I emphasised forcefully. “Your core body temperature needs to be reduced now,” I explained almost dangerously. Carlisle’s anxiety increased at my words; even though this was not new information to him, my anxiety didn’t help his.

Whilst Jacob kept persisting, aloud this time, which I was relieved about so Carlisle could hear, my father was simultaneously providing answers to each of the boy’s suggestions.

“Ice?” Jacob suggested.

It would melt

“A cold shower?” he continued.

Jacob cannot be sleep deprived; standing under the shower for the night is not an option for him.

Carlisle’s tone was patient, but this was the third time I had heard Jacob’s suggestions, and I was losing my patience.

“The ice would melt soon after touching you, and a shower is only a temporary solution,” I answered him, trying not to let my annoyance seep into my tone.

“Well there has to be something!” Jacob hissed at me, and I could sense that his anger was not helping his fever. Carlisle needed to give me a strategy and fast.