Atlas Shrugged

Chapter 1—Titan

It was inevitable that he would know.

He would have heard two hearts beating deliriously; two lungs grasping for
breathe.; two burning bodies in the frozen forest. One mind would have been
glorifying in victory, in ecstasy; broadcasting, "Finally," for the one he knew was
listening.

Yet for all this knowledge, he would only hear silence in the one that mattered. He
wouldn't know that when I asked the boy to kiss me, that I didn't really want it. He
couldn't know my desperation to save the wolf from his pain and rashness. He
didn't know that when I pulled back from his violent response that I had given up. I
had already gone above and beyond to prevent his death; he couldn't possible
demand more of me.

Little did I know that of course Jacob did, he would have all of me, which was the
one thing I would always refuse him.

Standing outside that feeble tent, on this day of requiem for vampire and wolf alike,
all he read in Jacob's mind, all he smelled on the air, all he heard… was my final
response.

My struggle meant nothing, because I succumbed to temptation. I wonder if he

could hear the pedestal he had placed me on shattering into thousands of pieces. If
Alice could see three hearts being shredded as surely as the newborn army below.

Pondering his omniscience meant nothing, when I knew that for all of his abilities
he would never know my thoughts or motives. He would assume I loved Jake as I
loved him. He would bear all fault and responsibility for leaving me and try to take
this on himself, saying he paved the way for another man. It wouldn't matter that
as the scalding skin pulled me closer, manhandled me, pushed and hurt me,
attacked my mouth and went back for more; my body too was saying, "Finally." My
insecurities and vulnerabilities were eschewed as they were presented with
evidence of my desirability. As I felt that I was finally a woman and not a china doll.
Edward would only ever see it as my revelry in his enemy and my best friend.

My new confidence brought only more fear: terror of the consequences of my

actions and dread for the battles, both emotional and physically that lay ahead. On
this day, when everyone I held dear fought for their lives in order to protect mine, I
betrayed my soul for the whims of my body.
Even filled with desperation, my body still quivered with the echo of Jacob's touch.
Only my mind, far more understanding of my true desires, cooled the burning
touch; narrowed the build; hardened the lips and sweetened the breath. Long and
black became bronze and unruly; terracotta became diamonds; friend became
lover, shifter became marble.

My mind struggled to comprehend all the contrasting emotions swirling in me. The
desire to continue with Edward what was started with Jacob; the gut wrenching
guilt of my betrayal; my fear of Edward's response all bounced around competing
for my attention as I walked back.

Deftly stepping over fallen branches and uprooted trees, I pushed the doubt aside
with the assurance that despite my foibles, Edward was above them. It was absurd,
as he would say, that while my axis shifted, to think that his world would have even
rumbled. My fear for his reaction was only juxtaposing my emotions and reactions
upon him. I might be his weakness, but that did not make him weak.

He would have read my intentions and motives through the fog of Jacob's lust as
clearly as the blush on my cheeks. Despite all he couldn't know, he was Edward. He
was my Greek God, all knowing and powerful, and not even the feeble confusions of
a hormonal teenage girl would hinder that. He knew me to be merely human, knew
that we were fallible and we fail; that we give in to temptation. It may not affect
him, but his empathy would give him the grace to put me back together. To forgive
me my imperfections and someday soon, change me so we would be equal in all
things.

Emerging into the snowy clearing of our camp, I calmed my wildly guilty heart and
steadied my frantic breathing, knowing I must not appear to be harmed. If there
was one flaw of my vampire, it was his unilateral devotion to my safety. I did not
risk my relationship with Edward to save Jacob's life only for him to lose it again.
Allowing my guilt to come forward and preparing to apologize, I moved towards the
tent and hopefully my Edward.

The snow crunched beneath my boots, insuring that he knew of my approach, but
neither Seth nor Edward made a move towards me. The only sign of recognition of
me was an eerily disapproving growl from the young wolf at the door. Who it was
directed at, I couldn't fathom, but it was abundantly clear he already knew what
had happened. As apparently did the rest of the pack.

Bracing myself to grovel, I opened the tent still surprised he had not grabbed me
the moment I left the woods, and slid through the hole. I allowed my eyes to adjust
from the gleaming snow to the glistening vampire in the darkened tent. As my eyes
fell on him, the inevitable traitorous tears began, my confidence dwindled, and my
guilt drowned me. I only wish this was the worst of it, but one look at Edward's face
forewarned me my own foolishness would be the least of which to weigh down my
conscience.
Prone against the cloth walls, legs strewn before him, was an Edward I had never
seen,or imagined. There was no look of desperation or deprecation upon his face.
No angered gleam to his eyes or painful grimace upon his mouth. He did not mirror
his anguished remorse he exhibited when we returned from Volterra. Even his
impassive ambiguity days after my birthday would be preferable to this Edward.
This blank and empty vampire.

Even at our worst together, I could recall a gleam to his eyes that I was too blinded
by my insecurities at the time to recognize. The look that silently begged me to
understand he hurt and to please forgive him for what he was about to do. He may
have been an expert liar, but everyone has a tell, and Edward's was always that
lone glint mirroring his soul. I yearned for that hint of emotion. Even if it said, "I
hate you," at least I would have something to distinguish him from a statue.

Now though, he was sprawled in the tent, not moving or breathing, neither
acknowledging nor ignoring me; and still heartbreakingly beautiful. There was
nothing to show him as anything but an expertly crafted piece of marble. How such
a vibrant and soulful man could ever look empty did not escape my notice. My
actions were Medusa's gaze and the result was this statue before me.

My tears and pleas, my cries and grasping yielded nothing. I flung myself on him,
grabbing his shoulders, blazing tear and snot stained kisses over his lifeless body,
dragging myself as close as possible, pulling his hair, and shouting in his ear.

All for naught.

I shoved my jugular under his nose to tempt him with my potent smell.

No response.

Frantically searching for anything to rouse him, I thought of the third wife who
sacrificed for her people. I was already the stupid lamb, perhaps now I could be of
use. I would be and do anything to reverse my Medusa spell, and return Edward to
the life he had slipped away from.

I sought a sharp object to use to cut myself. He may have been able to ignore my
attempts to rouse him, but he would not be able to deny his base instincts to feed
and devour. I would give my life to return him to his. Finally I could be what he
needed.

Finding only a rock I carved into my skin, positive that Edward would stop me at
any moment. He never noticed, just as I was unaware of the pain as it dug into my
flesh. If anything I rejoiced in it, some physical manifestation of what I put him
through.
I suppose he was right after all, I never did have any notion of self-preservation.
Logically, somewhere inside me I knew I should be scared of dying. But as I lifted
my bleeding wrist to his lips, no thoughts of this sacrifice being too big, too much,
too rash, or of how this would effect him crossed my mind.

Perhaps I should have realized it was of no avail when I wasn't dead as soon as my
blood hit the air. I certainly should have known when the blood was coating his lips
and he remained impassive. Maybe I should have remembered Edward's control;
his iron will to see no harm come to me. Instead I selfishly prayed that he would
show some sign that he was aware of me as something other than background.
That with the temptation of my blood, he would prove that despite the cruelty of
my actions, he still desired me on some level.

Lost inside this microcosm Edward and I existed in, I was as unresponsive to the
outside world as he was to me. I was barely cognizant of all the fluids pouring from
my body, nonetheless the wolf cries, the sickly sweet smell of burning of bodies, or
Seth's panicked howl from outside the tent.

No, my world had disintegrated. I had thought that I once knew what that meant.
Surely the void I existed in when he had left was the worst pain anyone could go
through and survive. I was wrong though, as I so often seem to be. I suppose it
could still be worse if he died. Now I think I finally have the perspective to know
that if he were to leave this world, so to would I, with no needed help from my own
hand. For now though, I still had Edward. Perhaps that was a technicality since he
seemed to be nothing but an empty stone shell; sentenced to an eternity, as the
still-life statue. So I would exist in this state, past the point of pain I thought I
could survive, yet still so far from the peaceful slumber of non-existence. I always
said I would do anything to be with him, even if it meant enduring this.

My endurance was to be short lived. I was sitting, smashed, and tangled in Edward.
My tears were saturating his shirt, sliding unnoticed down his still chest; mixing
with the snot pouring unstopped out of my nose and sullying the crimson drops
falling un-tasted from his lips. All my fluids, representing everything that I am was
around him; until suddenly they were not.

Before my wrist could fall from his mouth, the tent had disappeared. Where there
had been darkness surrounding us, there was an empty gray sky. From where I had
been dumped on the ground, I could see the tattered remains of our shelter, and a
decided lack of my catatonic vampire.

Euphoria rose inside me. He moved. He may have fled from me, but he existed. He
had come back to himself. With him, so too lived hope.

Oh how I was wrong. Would I ever be able to trust my instincts? Was everything I
believed to be the right course of action always destined to be the polar opposite?
Like opening a vein upwind of a vampire fight, which contained beings lost in their
bloodlust. In my willingness to bleed to save Edward, all I did was jeopardize him.
Whether I bled, lived, died, or sacrificed myself, Edward was put in the path of my
destruction.

Cognizance returned, and with it the flame haired vampire of my nightmares… and
her sidekick. Inevitably since I was the bloody human, I would be the first to go.
They may have wanted to play with me, but my recklessness prevented that. The
only question was if Edward could escape for help while they dealt with me.
Selfishly I forgot about Seth. I suppose his death would be another rock on the
scale measuring my soul, though it was nothing compared to the that would
represent Edward's.

It seemed ridiculous to run or try and prevent their attack, so I stood still, with my
bleeding arm outstretched. Let it tempt them. Let them come for me. Let this end.

My actions of course both did and did not have the effect I desired. Victoria and her
pet fiend, leapt at me, but never connected. Edward, who had been standing there,
not even looking at me, responded more like Alice than himself. At the exact
moment before they would have hit me, he merely stepped into their path. They
responded in kind, growling and hissing as their collision begot the beginning of a
rockslide.

I was out of the way, standing frozen before these clashing titans mere feet in front
of me. Seth, well I had my wish that he was out of way of the vampires, though I
hadn't meant for him to be crushed under a boulder in the process. With detached
emotions, I saw him prone and whimpering below a rock so large even a werewolf
couldn't move it. And so I stood and watched someone else I cared for be hurt.

Nothing, not even the life seeping out of a barely pubescent boy nearby, could have
prepared me for seeing Edward under attack. I had passed out from pain when he
fought James, and had been horrified when Jane tortured him. Both of those times
he had a plan of action, and while pain had been inflicted upon him, he gave back
far more than he was dealt.

Not now though. This being that I had always envisioned a god or one of God's
archangels, fought recklessly with no thought or plan, nor any sense of survival.
They tore into his skin, scratched and bit at him, and he never moved away. He
knew that it was coming, even I with my human vision could see their deliberate
movements, and yet he never dodged or flinched. Systematically he attacked at
them, purely offensively.

Watching this horrorshow before me, my brain finally pushed past everything I let
blind me, and saw the situation for what it was. I saw through a clear filter for the
first time and I knew I could trust it, because I saw through Edward. As he
completed his suicide mission, I saw his perception of my actions. When I ran away
in Phoenix to save my mother without him, when I rode motorcycles and jumped
off cliffs…or when I befriended a werewolf all ran through my mind. My boundary
pushing for him to fulfill my needs, for him to change me, for him to relax and let
me be pursued by a reckless and manipulative young wolf followed shortly
thereafter.

At every turn, at every moment, Edward watched my insecurities and stubbornness

take me one step closer to death. He saw me never trusting him, never recognizing
that all he had ever wanted was my safety and well-being. Even now, after I had
made him compromise his values, ignore his fears, and beg for my hand in
marriage; after I had betrayed him with his biggest fear and natural enemy; he
stood in front of me, risking his life to save mine.

He had told me, what seems so long ago now, that I was his life. He went to
Volterra because he could not be in a world that did not include me. Still I doubted
his sincerity. I let my insecurities dictate my actions. I stubbornly refused
everything he had ever tried to do for me. I ironically rejected his love time and
again and simultaneously took it for granted. His unresponsiveness in the tent was
merely the manifestation of how I had always treated him. I had assumed because
I thought of him as a god that he was above the trivialities of mortality. The paltry
emotions of jealousy, arousal, wrath…insecurity and vulnerabilities, I perceived to
be below him.

Apparently I had forgotten my mythology in my adoration of Edward. The gods

were never the ethereal creatures that deigned to grant humanity their grace. They
were vengeful and petty, arrogant and arousing; they personified the human
emotions to the extreme degree. I had never stopped to think that Edward felt
more than I did. That not only did he see in minds, hear from afar, traverse
impossible distances, and crush mountains into sand; the same applied to his
emotions. Everything in Edward was heightened; from the dichotomy of his
perfection and fallibilities, to the battle between the man inside with his inner beast.
His impeccable control that so frustrated me was yet another layer of protection for
me; another way he wrapped me in his unconditional love.

He once said that vampires do not easily experience change, and once it occurs it
was impossible for them to return to how they were before. I can see now that I
was the great change in his life. He argues that it conquered the beast and brought
out the man. On this occasion, he was wrong. I reverted him. I changed him from a
god to a Titan, and I punished him for it. Today, not in 1918, but on this fateful
day, Edward had been turned to stone, and yet he continued to bear the weight of
the heavens on his shoulders.

Adonis became Atlas, holding up the burden of his shooting star. I never noticed
before how he had progressively carried more and more weight. My humanity and
his immortality; the call of my blood and his unending thirst; my insecurities and
stubbornness; his desperation to keep me safe; my precipitous abandon towards all
things dangerous; his sacrifice of his own feelings to protect me; the guilt of his
abandonment; the consequences of my relationship with Jacob…every little thing
further weighed him down. Today was just the day he finally succumbed to the
burden.

God, Jacob. In this moment, as my Atlas buckled, and yet still shouldered his
burdens, I found myself caring even less about Jacob than I did about Seth's injury.
I couldn't bring myself to feel the onus of my responsibility toward others at the
moment. Paradigms were shifting and Edward, who never failed to endure, was
falling.

Venom was leaking from bites all over his formerly untarnished skin, his arm was
barely connected, and he was limping. Yet the newborn was in pieces, and Victoria
was crazed with what had been the impossibility of her impending failure. She and
Edward blurred together, moving too fast for vision, though I could still hear her
hissing and growling. Edward never made a noise. He steadfastly refused to dodge
away from her teeth and determinedly kept nipping at her neck.

He had no anger or will to cause her pain; he was too far gone for that. He merely
systematically sought her end, and took whatever damage she dealt to him without
a wince. He would keep the heavens from crashing to the ground while he lived, but
if in the process he was destroyed, it mattered not to him.

Ever responsible, ever loving, ever sacrificing, he would do and mean what Jacob
did not. I saw it clearly; when he left me, as Atlas did to Hercules, he made Jacob
hold me up. Then he returned, and retook the burden- willing and lovingly, but not
before the damage was done.

As Edward fell to the ground, with his teeth at Victoria's neck and hers at his, I saw
a Titan, a god, vampire, a man, my love: broken before me. Victoria may have
dragged him down, but I shattered him. And he let me. I ate from the apple, and as
Eve before me, I was granted the gift of knowledge; but in this impossible story, I
ate, and my Atlas shrugged.

Victoria and Edward came into focus, as the clearing quieted all but for my
repetitive pleas of, "please;" to Edward, to God, to whomever could save this man
before me. Someone somewhere listened.

He rose from the ground, ever so slowly, as the silvery fluid leaked from his neck,
holding her head at his side. I sank to my knees and stared at the sky, shocked to
see the sun was still in the same position it had been. My blood had clotted and my
snot had dried, but my tears kept endlessly falling. I guess time was irrelevant
when the world shifts.

Yelling Edward's name was futile, but I did anyway. He was too busy methodically
collecting body parts and piling them up. In that section of my brain where all
things morbidly curious and inappropriate lay, I contemplated how he could tell his
bits from theirs. But when he picked up a slab of flesh and shoved it into his pocket,
I deduced that he had some way of discerning them. From the same pocket he
pulled out a lighter and lit them on fire. For all his snark about wolves, he certainly
had a dogged determination to see his task through. Not his own vampire bleeding,
Seth's whimpering, or my patheticness could distract him.

The putrid purple smoke rapidly rose above the treetops and shortly thereafter the
cavalry arrived, a day late and a dollar short. Something you didn't tend to suspect
with omniscient vampires. Looks of shock and horror were another. Emmett threw
the boulder off of Seth and alerted the wolves to his injury. Alice and Esme, pulled
me into their arms and held me close, rocking back and forth and trying to calm
me. I felt Jasper's effort, but sometimes your body and your emotions refused to be
anything but your own. My guilt and liability at the agony of my actions could not
be eased by any vampire but the one limping away.

Carlisle and Rosalie, in two different manners urged him to stop; Carlisle reaching
out in support, Rosalie snarling at him to quit being melodramatic.

Apparently she had yet to be informed that I had done this, or I would be on that
pyre as well.

Edward kept walking away, his mission had been completed and now he could
shatter. I don't know if he tried to nobly sacrifice himself to pave the way for Jacob.
He had always been ever willing to bear the burden of others. It would perhaps be
easier if those were his intentions; if he wasn't so hurt to the point that he couldn't
care if he existed. I could fix extreme reactions, but I don't know if all the crazy
glue in the world could piece him back together now.

Nonetheless I would try. But I couldn't if my prior worst fears were to come true
first. My begging of him to come back was ignored, but my whispered broken
question connected.

"Will you leave again?"

And then the empty stone god, the unbreakable vampire, stumbled and fell. And no
one was there to catch him. Alice gasped. Esme panicked. Rosalie glared at me.
Carlisle reached for him, but was denied. They were beginning to see the picture
clearer, that something far worse than bloodshed and death marred their brother
and son.

Alice and Esme released me as I squirmed to free myself and run to him. I would
pick him up as he always had me. But his slight shake of the head stopped me
inches behind him. Those bone shattering muscles tightened and shrugged. His
head dropped, and his lungs gasped for air. At last, in a tenuous voice, as if he
hadn't used it in ages, he stuttered,
"I. Promised."

With that he was gone.

No longer Titan and god or vampire.

A broken burning man, injured inside and out, staggered out of my sight.

That final glimpse told me I never needed to become a vampire to make us equals.
I had achieved that today. He bled and fell, he felt pain and agony and suffered
from my same insecurities. He needed reassurance and someone to brush back his
hair and tell him they would make everything ok. Without a partner he was an
overburdened man sinking under the weight of the world.

It took this most acute betrayal for me to know Edward Cullen.

He put aside his hopes and wants and inner desires and loved unconditionally. He
sacrificed himself time and again for me, whether rightly or wrongly, and loved me
even when I threw it back at him. He loved me enough to leave me. He loved me
more to come back. He loved me enough to ignore his seething jealousy and let me
see a temperamental wolf that he knew to have ulterior motives. He loved me too
much to call me on my never-ending ration of crap I dished out. He let me reject
him and pull him closer and make ridiculous demands. Even at his lowest and my
worst, he resisted his bloodlust, and saved my life again. After all that I still
doubted his promises, and he still kept them. I imagined as he made his way back
to the house, he was awaiting my arrival to send him away and to explain that I
wanted Jacob instead. But he would stay and endure until that time; ever loyal;
ever loving.

Yes. I knew Edward now.

And I knew myself.

I was Bella Swan, the god killer.

For those of you who aren't dorks like me who took way too much Latin, I'll provide
a few footnotes on the mythology referenced.

Medusa: A Gorgon who was once a beautiful maiden sought by countless men. She
was punished by turning her hair into snakes and having her gaze turn any who
met it to stone.
Atlas: There are a few different accounts of this tale. Virgil declares him to be a
Titan, who sided with other Titans in the war against the gods. At their defeat, Zeus
sentenced Atlas to the farthest corner of the world to hold up the celestial orb.

Ovid, however, tells a different tale that relates back to Medusa. Perseus, in his
travels after his defeat of the Gorgon, tried to enter into the realm of the
Heripades, the giant Atlas' daughters. He has walled off their golden apple orchards
and protected them with a dragon. Atlas then tries to prevent Perseus from
crossing into it, and the upstart pulls out Medusa's head and turns Atlas into
mountains that were so vast they held up the sky.

Hercules also relates to Atlas. The great hero we all know, in a moment of rage,
went nuts and killed his family. He fled to the Oracles to seek retribution and they
told him to enslave himself to a cruel king. The king then set twelve impossible
tasks, one of which was to retrieve the golden apples of Heripades. Hercules used
his noggin for once on this one, and chatted up Atlas who struck a bargain with
him. If Hercules would just hold onto the heavens for a while, Atlas would get the
apples from his daughters.

Chapter 2—Turn

Even the Antichrist had to go home for dinner some time, I thought wryly as the
Mercedes sped towards Charlie's house. The quiet-as-a-mausoleum vampire driving
next to me prudently avoided eye contact, electing to hide the condemnation or
consolation in her eyes. You never knew if Esme's maternal devotion would show
itself through her care taking or her fierce protectiveness. Fortunately she knew I
was in no shape to accept either; and it was readily apparent she was too torn
between her responsibility and her need to be with her injured son waiting at home.
The Cullens, neither cold nor accusing, had closed ranks. Whether it was for my
safety or Edward's well being I couldn't fathom, but it was decided I needed to go
home. Words like, "heal Edward," "need blood," "your father," "expecting," "it
would be best for all," were thrown around like empty platitudes to hide their need
for me to not be there.

I had listened half heartedly, but focused on the individuals around me. Every
action had an equal and opposite reaction, and their world had been shaken as
deeply as mine today. My sins and Edward's torment rippled outwards towards his
family. Our disastrous microcosm stretched into the macro as I saw the effects on
their faces.

Carlisle stared into the trees Edward had disappeared into; a burning need breaking
through his compassion as he turned to me: "I. I.. He's my son...I'm sorry." And he
disappeared after him.
Emmett gazed dazedly at the scene before him, not seeing any of us. He looked like
a computer program that had been fed bad code. Nowhere in Emmett's systematic
vampire brain was there a scenario in which Edward's ironclad will was broken.
Even the great Achilles had a weakness and Emmett's floundering family wounded
him a surely as that arrow.

Alice kept blinking, as if she could clear her flawless sight to see something better. I
could only hazard a guess that she was seeking comfort in the future, hoping that it
would paint a less dreary picture. By her frustrated growling it would appear that
the Oracle was being unresponsive. God I hoped it wasn't because of the wolves.

Rosalie had been set apart from the others. I expected her to be tearing me limb
from limb or spitting vitriol at me by now. Yet she looked strangely accepting.
Maybe our pain made hers lessen. Or perhaps she liked to watch me suffer. I often
wondered if Emmett got dizzy watching her polemical mood swings.

I couldn't bring myself to look at Jasper. His face would read every one of Edward's
shrouded emotions, especially the depth of my betrayal. He already knew me to be
a coward, but I masked it to the others as thoughtfulness.

"Go Jasper. It will only get worse."

Alice nodded in agreement and further encouraged him.

"It will debilitate you. His wounds alone will bring back your more...delicate
memories."

He knew we were right, but his lingering pride refused to yield

"I know you worry Alice, but I never left my wounded men. Would you have me
start with my brother?"

I sighed, the world and vampire feelings suddenly too much with me.

"Jasper. He's not a wounded soldier. He's a broken man who won't want his brother
privy to and crippled by his weakness. I took everything else from him, at least
leave him his dignity."

For a moment I had thought I felt his respect trickling against me, but my own
condescension was too thick to accept it. As it departed, so did Jasper, heeding his
brother's wishes.

With my one accomplishment, I tuned out the world. I had already proven my
frailty today, and it was rapidly falling down around my ears. It wasn't that I was
tired or overwhelmed, though both were true. It was more the eternal weariness
Edward used to describe immortality. I desired for the sweet surrender of sleep, but
while my heart still beat, I had been changed. I felt that I would never sleep again,
for there were miles to go before I could rest. The burden of guilt was consuming
me, but I felt that I could carry it. I swallowed it whole and made it a part of
myself. I let it weaken me before, and it destroyed Edward.

Surrounding me were the burning ashes of the newborns. Today had signaled death
and destruction, but from it I would see that something better would come from it.
Tested and burned by the fire consuming me, I would rise from it, strengthened
and reborn; neither vampire nor fragile child, but Edward's mate.

Fortifying my resolve, I allowed them to carry me down the mountain and take me
home. Only hours ago I would have screamed and fought to be taken to Edward, to
ease my fears and calm me. I would have leaned on him when gravity was bringing
him down. Now I understood that while I wanted only to fix him, I couldn't right his
arm or heal his wounds. Even my presence would distract Carlisle from the task. So
home I went, not in defeat, but tactical retreat.

Esme pulled into the driveway behind Charlie's cruiser, having never spoken a
word. Turning to look at her I requested she call me when he had been treated.
Faltering only for a moment, she wearily asked,

"Do you plan to return to the house afterwards?"

I vehemently nodded.

"The moment his strength returns. I won't bother him until then, but I can't and
won't let this linger."

She seemed to grapple with her words, and upon finding them she finally faced me.

"Alright."

And acceptance softened her mouth.

I stumbled into the house, never stopping to contemplate what I looked like. When
the most beautiful creature in the world has been marred, it's hard to then question
your own vanity. Charlie did though, and found it decidedly lacking.

"What the hell happened to you? You're wet, dirty, your face looks like you went
into anaphylactic shock, and your damn arm is bleeding! What the hell kind of mall
have you been in!"

Oh. So that was the cover story. I think this moment was the first time I had ever
wished with my whole being that I had been shopping. I would take rampant
consumerism and couture fashion any day, over this afternoon.
C'est la vie. And cover stories.

"I wasn't at a mall Dad. I was with Edward. All weekend."

I knew the lie would have been kinder. It would have stopped his mustache from
scrunching into his sinuses. The vein in his forehead wouldn't be pulsating with the
rhythm he was going to use to beat Edward. His face might not have turned the
same shade of "ladies-who- lunch-lavender" as Alice's toenails.

But the ripples in the pond had already started multiplying and nothing would cease
them now. My relationships with everyone would be altered. Starting with Charlie.

He snorted and grumbled and eventually coughed out a reply.

"What in God's name were you doing with that boy this weekend, Isabella? And it
damn well better not have anything to do with what you look like now."

"We weren't having sex Charlie."

Now he matched Rosalie's "special" red heels.

"He was asking me to marry him. And I said yes."

As an afterthought I added, "No I'm not pregnant."

He doubled over and made a tiny smile form on my mouth at the invectives
spewing out of him.

"Damn, I don't think I've even heard Jake call him a dirty douchepacker. Do I even
want to know where you picked that one up?"

The mention of Jake gave him a spark of determination, thinking that he could use
him to guilt me away from Edward. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't know that my
guilt cup had runneth over, and any leftover for Jacob was merely spill off. Where
once my anxiety kept me clinging to ties that needed to be trimmed, now my
feelings for him could be wiped up with a dirty sponge and wrung out in the sink.

It wasn't that I didn't have feelings for Jake, even complex ones at that. I owed him
my sanity and safety while Edward was gone. I may have been in the clear then,
with my unceasing expression of my devotion to my nonexistent vampire; but even
I could admit I muddied the water upon his return. He may have known that I loved
his enemy, but I continuously sought him out, and didn't establish new boundaries
now that I was taken. I shrugged away concerns of his devotions with the
assurance that my feelings towards him were strictly platonic. I didn't recognize
that our brother and sister relationship was out of the Oedipus family for him. Still I
let it go on.
Of all my faults though, I could bear the brunt of this one on my own. I knew that I
let Jake linger because somewhere in my mind I hadn't trusted Edward to stay. It
wasn't reflective of him, today especially exemplified that. It was fear of my own
failings and my mistaken perception of Edward as anything but a man with
weakness and fears of his own.

Jake, despite being a werewolf was approachable. He grew and changed, bled and
breathed, failed and fell. And though he was far stronger than I was, I had the
upper hand. I was older and more mature, smarter and wise beyond my years, and
Jake was just a frisky pup. He was that processed unidentifiable meat hot dog on a
bun with a shelf life of a billion years with relish made from uranium. Not something
you could eat everyday, not particularly healthy, but completely comforting. Eating
too much of it would get you sick, but at times it hit the spot and filled the hole.
From the start, Jake filled the hole. But like all gut bombs, it was always going to
come back on you. You could play off the indigestion, but when you start spewing
meat by-product to the point it ruins all food for you, it's time to call it quits.

Today, Jake's months of disregard and disrespect of me and my relationship, and

his blatant blackmail manipulation to make me kiss him, caused me to cough up
wolfy by-products. Let them be squeezed out from a smelly sponge, and slide down
the drain. I learned today of my selfishness and self-absorption. I hated hurting
others, but I could only be spread so far. Manning up to my sins and repairing
Edward were as far as I could see now. Jake would have to deal with his pain on his
own.

"Bells, that nonsense coming out of your mouth can wait. I just came from the
Blacks. Jacob's hurt. Real hurt. He crashed that damn motorcycle of his and tore
himself up something nasty. Billy won't take him to the hospital because of his
damned prejudices. You need to go to him. He's asking for you."

A laugh bubbled up, coming from a dark and demented place within me, and
erupted across the kitchen. On it went, manic and cruel, baffling and angering
Charlie. I could have sooner picked up Emmett than have stopped it. It had been
building since the beginning of this tragic melodrama, and wouldn't stop until the
irony was revealed.

"Are you hopped up on something Bella? I didn't think Edward was the type to get
you involved with shady things, though it would explain those dark circles under his
eyes... and all the Cullen kids. Is there meth lab in the back of that mansion? Is
that how they have such nice cars? What have you gotten yourself into?"

Well that stopped the laughter. Though it sorely tempted a different kind.

"Really Dad, a meth lab? Are you so adverse to me marrying Edward that you have
to turn him into a drug dealer? I'm not 'hopped' up on anything besides anger at
the irony of that 'douchepacker' if you will, injuring himself after I practically threw
away everything I have with Edward to save his sorry ass."

Charlie's face might never return to its normal expression after the workout it was
receiving tonight.

"So you're not getting married?"

Joy. Then a pause.

"What do you mean you saved him?"

Sighing, I mentally rearranged the supernatural circumstances to give Charlie the

truth. I knew at this point, he was eager for the ignorant state of denial we'd both
existed in since I moved in, but if I had my way, I wouldn't be here much longer. I
could at least give us this modicum of truth between us.

"Sit down, it's a long story- that does not involve impregnating or meth labs, so
please do not jump to conclusions or race after your service revolver."

Begrudgingly we sat across from each other at our tiny little table. Night after night
we sat in silence, and now it all would come barreling out.

"Edward and I were in Port Angeles. We had stepped into a store, and unbeknownst
to me, Jacob was there as well. He overheard Edward mentioning our engagement.
He yelled and knocked over a shelf, and ran out of the store like demons were
chasing him. I turned on Edward and asked if he had seen him when he said it, and
his face spoke volumes. Instead of being miffed with how Edward handled it, but
letting it go, I ran after Jacob instead. I found him on the street, mounting his
motorcycle. He snarled at me about how he obviously meant nothing to me, why
did I bother coming after, him, etc.. Then he said he'd spare me the trouble of
having to worry about him by crashing his bike.

"I didn't realize that he was bluffing and trying to trap me. All I saw was the pain I
had caused him. I was crying and screaming at him to not sacrifice himself for me
and that I would do anything to make it right.

"He told me to ask him to kiss him. I refused at first, but then he started talking
about how he'd crash the bike, so I interrupted him and asked. It seemed like such
a small price to pay to save his life. He pulled me towards him and smothered me.
I'll save you the details, but it was forceful and violent, and the exact opposite of
how Edward treats me. I tried to pull away but he wouldn't let me, and he took the
noises I made as encouragement, and somehow got me to respond.

"Eventually he pulled away, with a smug grin all over his face, but it was directed
over my shoulder. He kissed me again, hopped on his bike and drove away. His
mission was complete. Edward had seen the whole thing, and as far as he was
concerned, now hurt the way he did.

"I was left standing in the road, staring at a frozen Edward, begging him to
understand. He never said a word. I don't know how long we stood there, but I
guess a car came along that didn't see me, or I it. Edward pushed me out of the
way and took the brunt of the impact. Hence the blood and dirt and tears all over
me.

"It blurs after that. I called Carlisle who was also in town shopping with Esme. He's
pretty badly hurt, but nothing so serious that Carlisle couldn't fix him at home.
They're working on him right now. I wanted to be there, but the last thing they
needed was my hysterics and fainting at the blood, so Esme dropped me off."

I stopped there, letting Charlie absorb everything. I needed to let his view of the
characters involved realign with the story. It wasn't exactly as it occurred, but it
was close enough; the actions, intent, and pain were all accounted for. All I really
left out was why I responded to him. I doubt my father wanted to hear his daughter
was desperate for some action.

Quietly he asked,

"Edward will forgive you won't he?"

I was surprised he was concerned about him, but maybe this finally opened his
eyes to Jacob's flaws. Perhaps he would no longer give him the blanket benefit of
the doubt and be constantly pushing me towards him.

"I don't know. I'm just now realizing how insecure he's always been about my
relationship with Jake. Something I always scoffed and never addressed with him.
It's going to take a lot of work to erase the image of his brand new fiancé making
out with the guy she swore she only felt brotherly affection towards."

He winced in empathy for Edward, or maybe at the mental image of his daughter
making out.

"I suppose I owe you both an apology for always pushing Jacob to pursue you. I
was just so angry with Edward for hurting you and I thought Jake would be a better
choice. I never thought that he was too immature to deserve you. I won't make you
go see Jake, Bella. I do think you need to talk this out with him at some point, but
you've got bigger fish to fry right now. How are you going to fix this?"

Of course he asked such a pertinent question. The answer to which still eluded me.

"I have no idea. Eventually we need to talk about it, but words are often
immaterial. I just plan to take care of him. I've never done that before. I've always
let him handle everything and then gotten angry when he didn't do what I thought
he should. That's not much of a relationship. "

"Are you still getting married? Won't you two have a lot to work through before
that?"

"If he will have me, yes, we will. It won't fix everything, but even at this lowest
point, our love is not the question, it's the answer. I have faith in Edward's love for
me, and the only way I can restore his, is just to love him."

He looked away and at the table. For two awkward people who had never shared a
meaningful conversation before, this was stretching both of us to our limits. With
his head in his hands, he gruffly spoke,

"Honestly, I knew it was coming. Jake was my last ditch effort to keep you here.
But you can't keep something that's not yours anymore. You gave yourself to him,
and whether I like it or not, he loves you and will keep you safe. For what it's
worth, you have my blessing.

"Now go upstairs and get cleaned up. I suspect you'll be spending all your time at
the Cullen's for a while, and you can't fight for your boy... man... whatever, if you
catch a cold."

I had been short sighted towards Charlie too. I never once suspected this depth of
understanding or compassion. I always knew he loved me, but it was never in an
obvious way. Now he was putting aside his fatherly objections, his desperate need
to keep me his little girl, and giving me into the hands of another.

I stood and walked around to his chair, and sat in his lap. I wrapped my arms
around his shoulders and pressed my head underneath his chin, like it was when he
was my Daddy and I was just his baby girl.

However awkward it may have been to have his 18-year-old daughter sitting on
him, he ignored it and held me closely, kissing the top of my head.

"I love you Dad. I may have given my heart away, but I loved you first. Thank you
for letting me go."

I thought I heard him choke a bit, but he covered it up as he replied,

"I love you too Isabella. And I'll love you last."

I grabbed a bag out of my closet and started pulling clothes into it. I had showered
and gotten cleaned up a few minutes ago, giving my mind and body a much needed
thirty minute vacation in hot water. I hadn't heard from the Cullens yet, but I when
I did, I would be prepared. I probably packed too much, but once I got there, I
didn't want to have to leave for the mundane necessities of spare underwear. I
debated bringing books, but decided there was nothing here that at least one of the
Cullens didn't already possess.

Unable to think of anything else I might need, I went downstairs to be closer to the
phone. Filling my time, I puttered around the kitchen, fixing sandwiches for Charlie
and myself. I stuffed a few in the fridge for him to eat later, and wrapped up the
rest to take to the Cullens. I knew they'd feed me, but I didn't want to be in the
position of being taken care of so I decided to be self-sufficient; heading off into
unknown waters via PB&J's. No one said you couldn't be intrepid with a 5-year-old's
sandwich of choice.

Strident knocking interrupted my mental ramblings, and I went to answer the door,
fearing that it would be an ambassador from Jake or bad news from Edward.
Dreading either, I opened it to reveal Rosalie.

She arched her eyebrow at me, and turned and walked back to her BMW. Speech
was apparently below her.

I ran back to the kitchen to retrieve my bag and Charlie's food. I deposited his non-
kindergarten variety sandwiches on his lap, and kissed his head.

"I'll call when I can."

With that I stepped out the door to face whatever Rosalie was going to throw at
me.

Her silence was a blatant tactical strategy. She was trying to break me down.
Normally it would have worked. Hell it was close to being successful now. I wanted
to pester her with questions. Did they heal him? Was he going to be ok? How did he
seem? Did he ask about me?

The last one was what kept me from breaking. If I asked her such an adolescent
question she'd probably drop me off at the middle school.

Rounding the edge of town, she smirked. Immortality may have heightened her
tenacity, but she still lacked patience. I'd say this round was a draw. I didn't fall
apart and she didn't throw me from the car. Yeah, we were making improvements.

"The asshole won't let us fix him. His flare for the dramatics has him huffing that he
wants to wallow in his pain. Something lofty about the poignancy of the physical
pain is the manifestation of the death of his soul."

Translation, Edward had thrown them from the room without a word.
"Who elected you to come get me? What can I possibly do to put a vampire back
together?"

"You broke it. You buy it. Unless you had a pressing date with the mutt that you
need to rush off to instead."

"I'm only going to explain myself to Edward."

"Answer the question, Bella. Are you sticking around?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose, and felt like Edward. God but she was taxing.

"Sorry, sis, you're stuck with me."

And with that, she threw her head back and laughed. Seeing that made me almost
feel bad for Royce. That crazy harpy was the last thing he saw before he died.

"Good."

While I was ever so glad I had passed this bizarre test of Rosalie's, I still had no
idea how I was supposed to accomplish this. Yes I wanted to put things back the
way they were supposed to be, but I didn't think it would start with basic vampire
assembly. I said as much to the sadistic blonde next to me.

"Pain makes me bitchy. You can only imagine how Edward deals with it. His hissy fit
has damn near destroyed his room, and much to my eternal dismay, it's rather
hard to pull one over on a brother who hears your every thought. Emmett managed
to at least crash into his arm hard enough to shove it back into place. But trying to
pin him down and close his wounds just results in him losing more venom. When I
left Alice was consulting with Jasper via cell phone for strategic capture and lick
clean maneuvers."

My usual mental filtering was shot with that one, I was just glad I refrained from
reminding her that a pillow facing the wrong way made her bitchy.

"So you, in all your infinite vampire wisdom, decided to come get me to, 'lick him?'
That's the master plan?"

She laughed at me again. I'd never seen Rosalie show even an ounce of emotion
before, nonetheless mirth.

"Who knew innocent little Bella had some freak in her. Smell that excitement in the
air. You certainly jumped all over that conclusion."

I chose to ignore the possible truth of that as she continued.

"The 'master plan,' as you so eloquently put it, is not for you to lick him. While I'm
sure both of your repressed selves could greatly benefit from some of that, all your
saliva would do is absorb the venom, and then we'd be stuck with both of you
screaming like little bitches.

"If you had stopped to think, you might have remembered the circumstances
behind Edward, Esme, and my change. We were all near death, and while Carlisle's
venom turned us into vampires, it first had to patch us back together again. Fever
had fried Edward's brain. Esme's spine was broken. I was beaten and battered. Our
venom is poisonous, but it also has healing properties. One of us has to seal
Edward's wounds, and we can't do that with him flailing around. If you're there he
won't because he'd risk hurting you."

I was loathe to that she could have lead with that point and made things a lot
clearer. I knew half the point of this was to taunt me. She was doing this to save
her brother, as ridiculous as she thought he was being, not to include me. What the
hell, I'd call her on it anyway.

"Why are you doing this Rosalie? You and I both know this won't kill him, and it's
abundantly clear you think he's overreacting. I especially can't fathom why it's you
coming to get me. This is Alice's territory. Your job is to sneer at me, and after
today, reaffirm to him your disbelief over why he's with me. Seeing you at the door
I half expected you'd come to play Grim Reaper."

She tilted her head away from the road and glared at me. I think she was trying to
look as malicious as possible to make me back down and not make her explain her
motives. I held her gaze, and with a disgruntled harrumph she elaborated.

"Well, 'sis,' maybe I understand a little better than Alice does what it is that Edward
needs right now. You may scoff, but one of the reasons Edward and I can't stand
each other most of the time is we're far too similar. I mock his theatrics because I
would, and have done, the same thing. My hysterics were always much more
flamboyant, but Edward and I both feel the weight of this existence. You know my
story and the betrayal I faced. I was a mess and acted out for years. You may think
I'm moody now, but it's nothing comparatively. And most of it was directed at my
dear brother. Finally though, ironically in the forest, I found something to put me
back together again."

I wondered if part of Rose's anger at leaving Forks stemmed from the reminder it
gave her of meeting Emmett. It was a level of sentimentality I'd never expected
from her.

"Emmett patched up my holes and gave not only himself and his love, but he gave
me back myself. Edward's broken now. A large part of that is your fault, but if I had
to hazard a guess, this has been coming for 80 years. He's wrapped too tight, and
takes on too much. You let him bear the brunt of it, but even if you hadn't, he
would have bore it anyway. It's who he is. I don't want him to suffer, but this is
good for him. Or will be if you're there for him during it. You're his Emmett; you've
got the ability to help him let go of his rigid control, and accept that he finally has a
partner; someone to face this existence with.

"We all have to fall apart sometimes, this is Edward's turn, and it's your job to help
him through it. And despite what you think, I love my brother, and for all of Alice's
omniscience, she doesn't understand what the heart of the issue is. She lives in the
way things should be, and rarely in the realities of how things are."

I knew then I would have to ask Alice to keep from looking. I needed to work
through this with Edward without the interference of anyone else, no matter how
genuine their help may be.

"Edward was hurt by your betrayal, but you know he would forgive you anything.
Right now he's bone scared that he's going to lose you. He knows what that feels
like now. He did it once by choice, and he wound up huddling in a hole in South
America. When I told him you were dead, he tried to off himself. Now here he is,
faced with the prospect of you walking away from him, and all he can do is watch
you go. He can't run away this time or try and kill himself, because he swore to you
he wouldn't. And right now those promises are all he has. So he's wallowing in the
terrifying prospect of an eternity without you.

"You're the only one who can ease that fear. So yeah. I came and got you."

We approached the hidden turn off as she finished her speech. I still don't know if
Rosalie liked me, but it didn't matter. For all the snide 'sis' comments we had been
throwing back and forth, her soliloquy was her way of accepting me as just that. In
this moment she and I were connected by our love for that stubborn and vulnerable
vampire down the road. It was, as they say, a start, and I need to let her know I
recognized it as such.

"Rosalie?"

"Hmm?"

"Is Emmett going to make me wear one of those orange decoy vests during this?"

This time her laughter rang genuinely through the car with no intent besides
amusement.

"Bella?"

"Hmm" I echoed back at her as we pulled into the garage.

"Call me Rose."
I took a moment to myself before I walked into the house. Inside everything I
cherished was waiting for me. My next step would require setting aside my
insecurities and immaturity, and using the guilt devouring me and channeling it into
the strength to set things right. It would mean I needed to quit cowering behind my
hair, blushing, and being clumsy and take my vampire by the hand to stand proudly
beside him. It didn't matter if the world saw our discrepancies because Edward
loved me. By giving into my own diffidence, I was doing that love a disservice. Just
as his belief that my love would fade in time was not his decision to make; me
doubting that he should love me was equally as impertinent. The disaster in the
clearing showed me my fears, and opening the door into the mansion it was time I
pushed mine aside I to start fresh.

For every season there is a time

He had killed, and I would heal him.

He had broken down, and I would rebuild him.

And finally it would be our turn to love.

Chapter 3—Touch

I could hear no music coming from his room. Of all the things to notice, it was the
lack of any harmony seeping through the cracks. No arabesques or sonatas; no
avant-garde acoustic Indie rock; no angry screeching metal and synthesizers, nor
sound of any kind emanated from within. Not being able to hear Edward's music
was the same as not seeing his reflection in the mirror; it gave no sign of his
existence. His music was my small glimpse into his thoughts and emotions that
slipped past the mask he wore towards the world. When he left last September,
"Death of Isolde," poured from his car at his arrival, as a hint of what was to come.
To this day I can't even watch old Warner Brothers cartoons because Wagner sends
me into hysterics; Bugs Bunny induced PTSD.

Nothing but silence greeted me as I opened the door to the darkened room. No sign
to judge the contents within besides my light saturated eyes. By the time they
adjusted, my determination and confidence had slipped away as surely as any sign
of vitality had from him. On our bed, the once golden sheets had been sullied by
dirt and venom and would never be the same. I didn't want to look past them
though, to see the vampire bleeding upon them staring at the ceiling in resignation.
All my resolve that led to my truthfulness with Charlie, and candid conversing with
Rosalie, was shot at my first glance at him.

An unquenchable desire rose inside me: a need to fling myself at him; to sob
uncontrollably; to mumble and mutter inconsolably against his chest; to crawl
inside him and never part. I wanted to forsake everything for a few moments of
comfort inside his arms. I burned with the need for him to console me with his
unfailing love and protection. My body swayed towards him, ready to take from
him, without a thought or care for what he needed.

It was with that thought that I overcame my own selfish impulses. I refused to
sacrifice his needs for my own. Doing so was why I stood here now instead of lying
on that bed with him, planning our future and dreading our nuptials. With a sigh I
dampened my traitorous proclivities and focused on the task at hand; super- gluing
a vampire.

His head turned away from the ceiling towards the windows, as my nearly inaudible
lament reached his ears. I felt that it had implied something to him, though it was
impossible to determine what. I could choose to fret over it, or I could move
forward. Worrying would accomplish nothing, so I walked to the bed.

His eyes were scrunched closed and his hands were clenched, but there was no
other sign of movement. Judging by the sheer amount of venom pooled below and
still pouring from him, I doubted he was capable of budging much. That realization
caused panic to swell within me. Before me was this fallen angel broken before me.
I desperately needed to explain and beg for forgiveness, but to do so now would be
selfish and futile. Words would not put the pieces back together, and he would only
lie there hurting while I eased my conscience.

Trembling, I lowered myself to the bed and reached for him. He may not have been
able to shy away, but his face caved, as if he awaited a blow. If I allowed myself to
absorb that action I would have crumbled before him. Instead I stared at his
matted locks, filled with debris and venom, sticking to his head for the first time I
could recall.

Delicately I raised my hand to wipe his sticky brow and was met with a shudder.
Brushing away his hair I was filled with an unbearable tenderness for him. He was
not my invincible immortal; he was an aching man and needful boy. His wariness of
my touch broke my heart but did not daunt me. Just as he acclimated himself to
my scent so long ago, I would work as hard to do the same to comfort him. In this
moment he was as fragile as he perceived me to be. I caressed his head with
feather light strokes, removing the intruding dirt, and trying to infuse my love into
each stroke. My other hand followed the first, along his sunken cheeks and square
jaw; across his strong nose and prominent eyebrows; gently over his hidden eyes
and around his grimacing mouth. On and on I touched him in silence; until inch by
infinitesimal inch, his face relaxed from his stricken expression and his head
minutely leaned into my hands.

I never once stopped movement as I crawled across the pillows behind him and
wrapped myself around his head. I moved from side to side, warming him with my
body, relaxing him with my hands, hopefully soothing him with my care. Ever so
slowly I increased the pressure and dragged my fingers lower: circling his temples
and around his ears; pushing my thumbs into his non-existent pulse points and
lightly scratching his Adam's apple. Deftly avoiding his open wounds dripping on my
thighs, I reminded him of our first time in our meadow; idly drawing patterns on his
skin. He had nearly purred at the feeling, rejoicing at being touched with love.

Back and forth I went, between his hair and his neck, never allowing my hands to
lift from him; a constant reminder of my presence. It was as imperative as my
gasping breath that he know I was there beside him, that I always would be. He
had to know that when he hurt I would care for him; when he was low I would
comfort him; that I knew no other way to exist than to love him. So I would go on
for as long as he would let me, pausing only for a cracking whisper of a voice.

"Bella."

I wanted to say something profound, declaring my intentions and sorrow in my first

word to him. All that came out was a shaky,

"Yes?"

"Why... why are you here?'

"Where else would I be?" I asked incredulously.

"Home."

Leaning over his head I pressed my lips to the worry mark between his eyes and
answered him as honestly.

"I am home."

He blew out the breath I hadn't realized he'd been holding, and lifted his head into
my lap. It wasn't forgiveness, but it did purvey his acceptance of my presence,
maybe even his desire for it.

"I realize the impertinence of my request, and I promise it will be my last, but
before you.."

His voice broke off mid-sentence, unable to complete it, unknowing I would give
him everything he asked for, and even what he didn't.

With his head in my lap, I pulled myself even closer to him until he could feel the
warmth of my belly. The change of position let me cradle him to me, and tilt his
head until he was forced to look into my eyes, and see my silent plea for him to
continue.

"Before you leave, will you let me hold you, here beside me, one last time?"

He stared at me, braced for my denial, begging for me to condescend to love him.
Resolve be damned, I couldn't stop my tears from falling on him, the burning of my
face, or my choking dismay. As if I would ever let go of him, but still, his health
took a priority.

"You can hold me for as long as it takes you to fall asleep just as soon as you let
Carlisle heal you. For all my stubbornness, I don't know that even I can lift your
unmovable arms high enough to crawl into them."

It was unnecessary to ask why he had refused help in the first place. Seeing him
now, it was plain as day. He was not suicidal, but neither did he have the will to
live. He had been, and perhaps still was hopeless. Without hope, there is no life, so
he had chosen to lay here and merely exist.

He nodded his acquiescence to my implied question, so I raised my head in the

direction of the door and spoke merely a name.

"Carlisle."

By the time I turned back to Edward, Carlisle was walking through the door; a bowl
in one hand and tongs grasping gauze in the other, a grateful and relieved smile on
his face.

"Bless you Bella, for making him see the light."

I couldn't except or acknowledge his appreciation, so I sought to divert him with a

question he already anticipated.

"In the past, when my children have been injured, their spouses have attended to
them. For some reason, Emmett prefers for Rose's methods of venom delivery than
his father or mother's. Edward, having never been quite as reckless as my other
sons, has never sustained any injuries he could not repair on his own, and thusly
this has never been an issue. Though I would assume, considering the extent and
placement of his injuries, that he would not appreciate the direct delivery approach,
as you will."

A hint of a wry smirk tugged on Edward's mouth.

"Yes, Carlisle, I far prefer a communal bucket of the family's spit applied via
antiseptic gauze, than listening to Emmett's chants of "ass kisser" for the next
millennium."

Never before had dry sarcasm filled me with euphoria. I wouldn't care if he forever
remained snarky; it was a sign of him making an effort. Within him some will
existed and I had done naught but rub his head and promise him he could hold me.
There were still miles to traverse, but the first step had been made.

"Bella I thought you might want to assist me. If you use the forceps, the venom I
collected will never touch your skin. Normally it would be unnecessary for you to
need them, but frankly, if there was any way for the venom to find its way into the
bloodstream through the epidermis, it would be with you."

Edward nodded very gravely at his words, so I chose to ignore my natural

propensity to argue the point, since they were inevitably right. That and I reveled in
being able to do something so basic as tend to his wounds. One day I would stand
before God and vow to love and protect this man through sickness and in health.
Today I bound myself to him not with words, but with that oath made flesh.

Though it was made difficult by the irony of Edward's desire to not burden me.

"Please do not feel obligated to do this, you really don't have to. It's not right for
you to have to take care of me."

Silly, irrational vampire.

"Try and stop me. The only thing not right is that I never have before.

Now tell me how to do this and what I can do to ease the pain of it."

Edward didn't address my commentary, but he relaxed his tense shoulders in

response. Carlisle quickly led by example, asking me to remove Edward's tattered
and torn Oxford while he ripped what was left of his pants. I expected Edward to
comment about his bareness, since I had never seen him in so little clothing before.
Instead he peered at me, searching my face for signs of my discomfort. Of course
he would think of me, while he bled out...or oozed as it may be. I reassured him
with a final pass through his hair and a lingering kiss on his forehead. Quickly I
lowered his head to the pillow and moved out from beneath him to better reach his
wounds.

I took the forceps from Carlisle, saturated the gauze in the venom, and trailed it
across his lacerations with enough pressure to push the venom inside. The doctor
said I was doing it right, and explained how they had different variations of venom
for different fluidly functions. Only the kind secreted from their saliva glands had
the required healing properties. Admittedly I tuned him out, preferring to watch the
miracle before me.

I had started with the gash at Edward's neck; it worried me the most having seen
Victoria gnawing at him there. Surprisingly it was a clean wound, resembling more
a cut from a knife that an actual bite. As I rubbed the venom into it though, I
watched the two sides seal themselves together. It was hard to rectify the thought
of a substance that had, and hopefully would again, cause such agonizing pain to
me; seemingly magically heal Edward. It was the chemical personification of our
differences, that at our biological cores we were not the same. But science could
speak naught of the marriage of true minds nor the binding of our souls.
Carlisle left the room, leaving me to my work, with a quiet word to his son. He had
spoken it in order to include me, but I focused on the wounds, and not his loving
remarks. I had enough to occupy me, for Edward's wounds were vast; scrapes
across his abdomen, slices through his tendons, gouges in his back. Diligently I
focused, repeating the process, dipping into the venom, saturating the cuts, and
watching them seal. Every single one of them was attended to with the utmost care
and attention. It had become a metaphor for the work I had to do on our
relationship. Face every hurt, dress it with honesty, and wash away the pain so that
it would heal.

Eventually the job was done, all under the watchful eye of my vampire. He seemed
to be waiting for me to give up and flee, but upon completion, all I did was try to
get closer. Not caring about the venom stains, I crawled up his body, sustaining my
weight and nuzzled his neck.

"Do you want me to lay beside you now?"

His non-injured arm stirred beside me, but only succeeded in brushing against my
knee with the lightest of touches. Scowling he said with a defeated murmur,

"More than anything, but despite your kindly doctoring, it seems my stubbornness
has caused me to lose too many fluids for movement."

Before I had been too focused on reading his emotional state through his eyes to
notice their color. He looked as if he had lost the fight that had so injured him; both
his pupils and the bags below them were blackened. He was desperately in need of
nourishment. It was time for me to summon Emmett, and hope that the errand I
had sent him on upon my arrival to distract him had been successful.

Sitting back behind his head, I called for his brother. He stared at me intently, as
always trying to probe into my thoughts. I felt a twinge of sadness that he didn't
ask me for them, for surely I would lay them all before him if he so desired, but he
seemed to scared to ask anything past his one request of me.

I answered his question upon Emmett's arrival.

"Did you get the take-out?"

Emmett still looked at me as crazily as he had when I first made the suggestion to
him. When I had arrived and walked into the common area, he had been pacing by
the window, intermittently growling that his brother wouldn't let him come to his
aid. He was incapable of watching his family suffer and having no avenue to fix it.
Esme reminded him that Edward would need to go hunting once he came to his
senses, and that Emmett could assist him then. Conversely he responded with an
audacity I had never seen any of the Cullen kids show towards their mother figure.
"How the fuck is he going to be able to go hunting? He lost half of his goddamn
venom dodging us. He threw me out of the room and went ass over tea kettle onto
his bed, where he stayed pissing out his life force in his refusal of our help!"

Esme, ever aware of her children's pain, had judiciously ignored his outburst at her,
but I intervened before it got worse. Making the suggestion that Emmett just go
fetch something for him and bring it back, was met with the same reaction as if I
had just made out with Aro in front of him. Confusion and clarifications
commenced, in which I had to explain that I did not mean that he should sling a
cougar over Edward's prone body for him to snack on. Eventually though, with
much grumbling on his end about loss of flavor and that it was just uncouth to eat
in bed, he left to take care of the problem.

"Yeah. Sorry bro, it absorbed the flavor of the container, so it tastes like ass. It
may not be fresh from the tap, but it'll fill the hole til you can nab your own."

Opening his brown paper bag, (apparently he took me quite literally) he pulled out
several thermoses.

"I, uh, didn't know what kind you were in the mood for, so I met up with Jasper
and we kind of got you a buffet. There's elk, deer, black bear, cougar, and coyote."

He announced the last one with a devious grin that prompted Edward to respond in
kind.

"If it already tastes like filth, I may as well keep with the theme. Pass the dog."

It was a testament to how much things had changed that I didn't even blink at that.
Instead I rose from the bed and kissed his nose.

"I'll give you some privacy for your vampire moment."

He looked reluctant and surprised. He didn't seem to fathom that I wouldn't fight
him about being around when he had his dinner. I could trust him, and I still
believe rightfully so, to never hurt me at any cost, but he did it for my protection. It
was time I finally respected that.

Unfortunately, I may have closed his physical wounds, but his inner ones had
barely been patched.

"Will you come back?"

I leaned over him until I could meet his eyes.

"I will always come back to you."

I grabbed my bag, and stepped around all the mess he had made in his resistance,
and went to find Alice.

"In my room." echoed up the stairs at me.

She was sitting on her bed with a blank look in her eyes.

"What does it mean that you can't see anything?"

"Jacob isn't going to come storming the house and steal you away, if that's what
you're implying. Either you're still clueless as to what to do or Edward hasn't
decided if he's going to accept it. It's almost like you're back on that cliff ledge,
your toes are at the very end, but you can still step back or leap. That whim has
yet to be played out, but it's coming. I keep seeing a vision, of myself having a
vision. Not altogether helpful."

I could feel an Alice hissy fit building. For all my cracks about her fashion obsession
and Edward's annoyance that she's a little know it all, we both tended to ignore
that they were her coping measures. With no memory of her human life and her
only hints of it being a hellish existence, she chose to be optimistic about life
instead, and expressed it through making her own little part of the world beautiful.
Her visions were much the same. They were as much as part of her as hearing or
tasting. It was no wonder she panicked when her visions failed, it was the
equivalent of her being blind. For those reasons I could forgive her impatient
griping that Edward and I get our acts together so she can beta the finale.

"I'm sorry that you're flying blind Alice, but right now I'm pleased. I don't think I
could bear to know how it all ends. It would take away the sacrifice and the effort
of us getting there on our own. And that's what we need, to put aside everything
and everyone else and just be us with no interference. Our relationship has gotten
a bit crowded lately, and it's time to do some restructuring.

I hope you know, that this is by no means a commentary on you or the countless
times you have saved us. Because it's not. Without you, it's quite possible Edward
and I would have never reunited, or if he had been successful, neither one of us
would be here now. I don't know if I ever told you how much I love and thank you
for that. Maybe I could go halfsies with Edward on the Porsche?"

"You'd have to stay conscious after he told you what it cost for you to go 'halfsies'
with him. And geeze, I can take a hint. I'll just stay here in my room, by myself, in
vision constipation. Feel free to stay indecisive."

I may never bet against her, but I would find a way to thwart her when this was
finally resolved. Until then I decided to give her information since underneath being
pissed off, she was legitimately concerned for us. In her own "I must know
everything," way.
"His wounds are healed and Emmett's providing him with blood as we speak.
According to Carlisle he'll be sore for a bit, but he should regain movement shortly.
Then he'll get cleaned up and we'll.."

I trailed off with the formation of an idea that was promptly interrupted by a
squeal.

"He's still on emotional lock down, so I don't know how he will respond. But here's
what you were going to ask me for. And for the record, I know my brother. He
won't tolerate being babied, but this is right. I may watch out for him, but there's a
role that his family cannot fulfill. For the past half century that I have known him
he's been an island unto himself. Take care of him. No one else ever has. He should
be almost done, everything else you need should be in there."

I hugged her in appreciation, determined that no one would ever doubt how I felt
for them again, and turned to leave.

"And Bella? It's just the two of you now. I won't look anymore. I trust you."

"Alright mister, you've been stitched up and fed. It's time to wash the day off of
you."

He was sitting up in the bed, surrounded by stained sheets, wearing nothing but his
boxers with various expressions shifting across his face. Relief, and what I could
only describe as a cross between self-loathing and annoyance.

"If you're only here to play nursemaid, please don't concern yourself. You have no
debt to pay. I will be...strong...again soon enough."

Yes, we still had miles to go.

I went to him, picked up his hand and placed it over my heart, vaguely wondering if
he could hear it cracking at his inference.

"Are you just babysitting me every time you keep me from tripping? When you hold
me when I'm upset? When you patch me up? Do you protect me out of duty,
Edward?"

He yanked back his hand in anger.

"Are you being deliberately obtuse? What else would I do? Let you fall? Let you
hurt? Leave you wounded? I may be a soulless monster, but even I am not
heartless enough to watch you suffer."

"Then you think I am."

I paused, just long enough for him to confirm or deny it, but he only held his
shaking head between his hands.

"If Esme, Rose, and Alice take care of their mates, why is it any different when I do
it? It's not a debt repayment, it's my job. All you've ever done is sacrifice yourself
for me Edward. It's my turn. Let me take care of you. Please."

He pulled me next to him on the bed, rougher than usual, and rested his head in
the crook of my neck. He stayed there for a moment; inhaling my scent, exhaling
his weariness, listening to the clomping of my heart, and feeling the rise of my
chest. I held him to me, reveling in his presence, in the flush of my skin where his
head met, in the feel of his hair between my fingers, in the smell of him that
clouded my head with love for him.

"You can have anything that is mine to give you, Bella. Just please, I beg of you,
don't sacrifice your happiness for me."

I felt the weight of his agony deep inside me; crashing and crumbling everything
that I was, and breaking me apart. I wanted to give in, and sink into its depths and
never resurface. But he carried its weight, and so would I.

Attempting to lift his face, I tried to speak through the lump in my throat.

"Look at me. You. Are. My. Happiness."

His eyes met mine as I continued.

"The only way I could forgo my happiness is to see you enduring such pain. I
cannot bear to see you hurt, even if it's at my own hands. I will not ask for your
forgiveness yet, but I will ask you to let me in. Let me help. Share your burden with
me. "

"You have nothing to feel guil.."

I cut him off, with my hand over his mouth.

"Shut up Edward. I have never said that to you before, and I hope to never again
have to. But do not say that. I have everything to feel guilty about, but that's not
what this is about. This is so much more. I can live with the guilt. I cannot live
without giving you my love."

He stared at me, long and hard, trying to discern the truth behind my words. I
never looked away or even blinked, it was far too imperative that he knew the
veracity of my statement. Time passed and mountains moved before he looked
away, a small smile on his hand-covered mouth. The faintest of pressures
resonated from his lips against my palm.
"How do you propose to wash me then?"

Slower than I had ever seen him move, Edward made his way into the bathroom.
He wouldn't accept my aid, but offered me his hand in its stead. He was reaching
out and letting me in. Palm to palm, he connected himself to me as surely as a holy
palmer's kiss.

As he stepped into the darkened bathroom, lit only by tiny flickering flames, and
the steam dancing among them, I realized it looked more like a romantic interlude
than a healing bath. I started to panic and pull away, worried he would think I was
presuming we were ready for that, or that I was trying to push past his boundaries.

"I. I. Uh. I can wait in your room, if...if you want me too. I don't have to be here. I
dddon't want you to be uncomfortable or think that I'm pushing you. I swear I'm
not trying to do anything. I just thought it would make you feel better. I'll just be
outside. Take your time."

He wouldn't release my hand as he climbed into the steaming tub with a quiet
moan of pleasure.

"If you can shove your bloody wrist in my mouth, then you can get in the damn
tub."

It was the first time he had made reference to earlier today, but he did it as he was
encouraging me to stay with him. I could feel our impending talk coming, but now
was not that time. He wanted me to join him and I'd be damned if I denied him
anything. I shed all my clothes except the bathing suit underneath that I had
borrowed from Alice. Before stepping in, I hit play on the sound dock.

He maneuvered me until I was beside him, shoulder to shoulder, in the enormous

sunken tub. The mugginess resonating in the air, illuminated by the candles, the
low light, the haunting piano music, and the dichotomy of the delectably warm
water and the chill of Edward's skin were an ethereal dream within a dream.

"Do you know which piece this is?"

I shook my head. I had merely selected it to play classical piano. It personified

Edward, and I had wanted do anything that would make him feel more like him
again.

"It's Debussy's Reverie. It's a dream-like or musing state in which one can be lost
in their daydreams, " he sighed as I had begun to wash him.

With reverence I bathed him with a lathered washcloth. I rinsed away the dirt and
venom; my dried blood and invisible tears; the pain and the agony of the day. Each
swipe of the cloth and splash of the water renewed us. Gone were the days of my
obliviousness and his martyring, of the misunderstandings and insecurities, of our
imbalance. From here forth we would just be Edward and Bella, sharing our lives
and ourselves with each other.

When I had washed all of him, he held me close to him, with my head on his
shoulder, and his arms curling me into his body.

"This used to be my reverie, you know. For eighty years in my deepest heart of
hearts, I dreamt of the intimacies of the touch of another. Their palm within my
own, the caress of their hand upon my face, their head on my chest...to feel their
breath across my neck and their body pressed close to mine. It's so often taken for
granted, the simple feeling of someone else reaching out to you. But when you are
denied it, you yearn and ache for it. For in that momentary connection with
someone else, it eases the loneliness and keeps you a part of this world. I had
nearly given up hope of ever finding that touch that resonates throughout my body
and that comforts my soul; that dream of someday being loved. Until you. With
you, I found my reverie. I found everything."

I clung to him tighter and kissed his heart. His may not beat, but there has never,
and will never be another with such a capacity to love. I started to tell him as
much, but he cut me off, tilting my head up to look at him.

"Don't say anything yet. I told you long ago I am a selfish man, and I am. I gave
you up once for your protection, nonsensical as it may have been, and I nearly
rotted inside without you. I thought though, that if ever you no longer wanted me, I
would have the dignity to step aside for you. I was wrong, ever so wrong. I have to
ask you, beg and plead you, my pride and dignity be damned, to
please...please...do not leave me.

I'm so fucking scared of losing you Isabella. Even when I thought you were
de...had...died...I wasn't this terrified, because I could follow you into the dark. But
there's no place for me to go this time."

He was sobbing out his plea, his whole body shaking with the force of it.

"I will take you any way I can have you, your friend or your lover, or the neighbor
down the road. Just please, keep me. Keep me in your life, even if you cannot love
me anymore. The only thing in this world that I cannot bear is to lose you. Without
you, there is no me."

Frantically I climbed into his lap and connected every part of my body with his. Our
hands clasped, our chests pressed together, my legs tangled with his, my nose
against his, our mouths breathed each other in, and our foreheads knocked as I
combed my other hand into his hair. I cried the tears he couldn't and quivered with
him. I would have glued us together if I could. I wanted to use my touch to fill
every hole in him and eternally bind him to this world and myself.

" You won't be loved someday. You are loved today, as my friend and as my lover,
as my world and my soul. I will hold and keep you Edward. There will never be a
day when I won't reach out for you or want you by my side. There will never be a
place I go that you cannot follow. Every choice I make is you. It will always be you.
You cannot beg for something that is already and forever will be yours." Everything
that I am, will always be you.

Our embraced tightened and lingered. The air cleared and the water cooled, yet still
we held on.

It was not a victory or even a resolution.

It was two mouths breathing a cold and a broken hallelujah.