New Moon Rewound

Disclaimer: All the characters in the story are the property of Stephanie Meyer. I have borrowed them for my entertainment and (hopefully) your reading pleasure. I make no profit from their use.

Author's note: This is a modest revision of the original one-shot.

Scene: Near the end of New Moon before Bella goes to the Cullens to have them vote on her mortality.

Chapter 1: Nothing but a Dream

I stretch out my legs from the little ball I had curled up in to sleep, yawn, and turn over. The last thing that I remember is Edward carrying me from the car to my bedroom over Charlie's vociferous protestations. To say that my Dad was really pissed, would be putting it mildly. Then Edward kissed me tenderly on the forehead.

"I'll be back when it's safe, love," he whispered softly.

I didn't hear his silent feet as they flew down the steps, but I did hear Charlie holler, loudly enough for the whole neighborhood to hear, "And don't you ever set a foot inside my door again!"

Then I floated back to unconsciousness, a myriad of other, older images assaulting me.

My eighteenth birthday. What a disaster! A paper cut. A rabid Jasper flying at me. Broken glass and blood flowing down my arm. Everyone else leaving the room. Carlisle stitching me up. Edward kissing me as if his life depended on it when he leaves me that night, desperate, wanting.

His coldness and distance in school. Watching sports with Charlie. Taking pictures. The difference a day makes when I look at them after they are printed. Edward before and after. The final scene: being left alone in the woods. I can't go any farther with that one. Fade to black.

Fast forward four months.

Adrenalin rush. Motorcycles and Jacob. Warm sodas from a paper bag. Jacob's garage. Jacob's betrayal. We can't be friends anymore. It's not you, it's me. A pack of wolves saving me from Laurent. And then his secret. Jacob and Paul flying at each other in the shapes of enormous wolves as they battle.

Emily's house and blueberry muffins. Victoria coming after me. Spring break at La Push. More depression. Jumping off the cliff. Seeing Edward one last time before I drowned. Jacob saving me. Alice coming to Forks because she thought that I was dead. The phone call. Jacob's second betrayal sending Edward off to his near death in Volterra.

Going to Volterra. Facing the Volturi. Watching Edward writhe in pain as Jane stuns him. Alice's promise that I would be a vampire soon. The sounds of the screams as the unsuspecting humans enter to feed the thirsty monsters within. The long flight home. Sitting wrapped in Edward's arms. Clinging to him as Charlie tried to drag me away from him.

He is my life. Charlie doesn't understand. Nobody understands, not even Edward.

Hit rewind.

Flashback to the beginning. No! I can't bear to see this story unfold before my eyes again. I am shaking.

It was my birthday, all because of my stupid birthday that I lived in excruciating pain for seven months. No more birthdays. Never again. Alice will keep her promise. Eighteen forever.

Then I take a deep breath and realize that I am finally waking up. He's here. Edward, my love, my life is right here in my bedroom. It's dark. How long have I been sleeping? Oh, who cares? He is with me and I can't believe it.

"Edward!" I say, feeling groggier than usual as I wake up. "You're here!"

"Where else would I be?" he asks. "I was lying here when you curled up next to me last night. And you know that I'll be here until Charlie wakes up."

"Charlie!" I groan. "What will I say to him? What's the cover story? I need to know what to tell him."

Edward stares at me as if I have lost my mind.

"Bella," he says carefully. "Are you sure that you are okay? I mean, you had a restless night. You said my name over and over again. You were looking for me. You wanted me to come back."

"Of course, I wanted you to come back!" I answer. "You go and disappear for over six months. How did you think that I could live without you? And all because of . . . "

But before I can say another word, he pulls me up and around so that I am facing him. He looks at me intently with something like fear in his amber-colored eyes. He slowly traces my face with his hand and softly kisses my forehead before holding me tight in his ice-cold arms. Home, my home, he's here and I'm home. I wrap my arms around him and nestle into his smooth, perfect chest.

"I haven't been anywhere, love," he says gently. "Except right here by your side. Where did you think that I had gone?"

I pull away and stare into his eyes wildly.

"To the Volturi, remember?" I say as my voice takes on a hysterical note. "Alice saw me jump off the cliff. And then Rosalie told you that I was dead, so you went to the Volturi and . . . "

"The Volturi?" he asks puzzled. "How do you know about the Volturi?

"The picture!" I say. "In Carlisle's study, you showed it to me the first time I visited. Remember? The closest thing our people have to royalty, you said. And then when we were watching Romeo and Juliet, you said that if you ever wanted to die because I died, you would go to them. They would destroy you if you provoked them. Do you really think that I would make something like that up?"

"Bella, honey," he says softly. "Keep your voice down or you will wake up Charlie. I don't know what you are talking about. We haven't watched Romeo and Juliet together. We are reading it in class. Yesterday, you said that you wanted to watch it today."

"Today?" I say slowly. "What day is it? I mean, what year is it?"

"It's September 13, 2008," he replies looking more bewildered than ever. "It's your eighteenth birthday, but I know that you didn't want me to remember it. It sounds like you blocked it out too."

"But . . . "

And I can't continue because the tears are falling. I must be crazy. Why is he denying that the last seven months happened? I thought that vampires had these amazing, super-perfect memories. Even if he could get me to believe it, what about everyone else? What about Jacob? Would he ever forgive me for the way that I have treated him?

"But, what, Bella?" he asks me, as he takes my face in his hands. "You have to tell me. I can't read your mind, remember? Now what is all of this talk about Volterra and me leaving you?"

But I refuse to believe him.

"Didn't Charlie kick you out when you carried me I last night?" I ask. "Didn't he tell you never to step inside his door again?"

He looks puzzled for a moment and then he drops his hands and chuckles.

"Bella, he's wanted to tell me that ever since we got back from Phoenix," he says. "But the farthest that he's gone is imposing a curfew on you, or rather us. He's afraid that if he gets any stricter then you'll move out, today in fact. He's only been holding his fire because he doesn't want you to run away with me today. He figures that when you turn eighteen, you will claim your freedom."

"But I'm already eighteen," I say in confusion. "I turned eighteen over six months ago on that horrible night when . . . "

"Bella," he says gently. "Try to focus, love. The most horrible night, or should I say nights, occurred when I was in the hospital waiting for you to wake up from James's attack on you. But I've been with you every night ever since. I'm never going to let you out of my sight again."

"No, no," I moan. "This is the dream. This is the nightmare. After everything that I've been through you are denying that it ever happened. What is it? Are you trying to make me think that I'm crazy? Is this a ploy to keep Alice from changing me like she promised the Volturi that she would?"

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he doesn't answer my question.

"Bella," he says. "Look at this."

He pulls out his cell phone and flips it open.

"13 September 06"

"I must be crazy!" I say as I lean forward and bury my face in his shoulder.

"You. Are. Not. Crazy," he says emphatically holding me closer. "It sounds like you had a very vivid nightmare though."

I look back at the time on the cell phone again.

"4:03 am PDT."

"But I wasn't asleep that long," I say puzzled. "How could all that time have passed while I was dreaming?"

"You're asking the wrong person," he says wryly. "Remember? I do not sleep, perchance I do not dream."

I grimace.

"Ha! Ha!" I say. "Now you're laughing at me."

"This is not funny," he replies seriously. "It has clearly disturbed you very much. Why don't you tell me about it?"

It's odd, but the more I wake up, the more the dream slips away. But about ten minutes ago, it was so vivid, so real. I'm finally beginning to realize that maybe, just maybe, I am waking up and that was the dream.

"It started today," I say. "I mean when I woke up or will wake up or . . . "

"Stop trying to reconcile the time with what you think was reality," he says. "Just tell me the story."

"Okay," I say. "Anyway, I woke up on my birthday, and Charlie had a surprise for me. He and Renee had gotten together to give me a birthday present, even though I told them not to, a camera and a photo album."

"There's your first proof that it's a dream," he says. "They've collaborated to give you a gift, but it isn't a camera or an album."

"What is it?" I ask.

"I don't want to spoil the surprise," he says.

"Will I like it?" I ask.

He looks thoughtful.

"Well, I think so, but that's more of a question for Alice," he says. "I'm still not very good at predicting your reactions to things."

"Alice!" I hiss distracted by the mere mention of her name. "It was all her fault!"

"What did she do?" he asks worriedly.

"She decided to throw me a birthday party," I say. "Now tell me that's not true."

"Okay," he admits reluctantly. "That's true, but it's also very much in keeping with her personality. She's planning on ambushing you at school today with the invitation."

"Hah!" I say. "That's exactly how it happened."

"And will happen," he insists. "But that's just Alice."

"Well, she's not getting her way!" I say vehemently. "I know how it turns out and I'm not going."

"Okay," he says. "No party. She'll be disappointed, but I'll back you up."

"Good," I say. "Then Jasper won't try to kill me."

"Whaaat?" he drags out the word.

"You brought me to the party after we watched Romeo and Juliet together and Charlie brought home a pizza, which you didn't eat of course," I explain. "He wanted to watch a ball game."

"Of course," he agrees. But he watches one ball game or another every night."

"And naturally, Alice went all out with candles, glass bowls full of roses, and a huge cake that no one but me can eat," I continue, ignoring the ball game comment. "Then there were presents and while I am opening one, I got a paper cut and a drop of blood fell on the carpet. Jasper hurled himself across the room at me and you all could barely stop him."

Now I have to stop for breath and Edward starts shaking his head.

"What?" I ask.

"In a minute," he says. "Finish your story."

"Anyway, you threw me into the glass bowls and a huge gash opened up in my arm. There was blood everywhere. You all had to go outside to get away from the smell," I continue. "You all left one by one because you couldn't stand it. After Carlisle stitched me up, you drove me home but you got all weird on me.

"Then three days later, you told me that you were leaving me for my own good. Your whole family was moving away and it would be as if you never existed. You even took the pictures that I had taken of you away from me."

"With the camera that you are not getting from your parents," he finishes. "Oh, Bella! That is a horrible nightmare. And it ends with us in Volterra?"

"No, it ends when you carried me into the house because I had managed to stay awake the whole flight back from Volterra and couldn't see straight, let alone walk straight," I say.

"And that's why Charlie has banished me from the house," he finishes.

"Essentially," I say. "But other than getting the birthday present wrong, why else couldn't that have happened?"

"Well, there are a number of flaws in your premise," he replies. "But I suspect that the root of those is your fear of losing me."

"Flaws?" I ask suspiciously. "Such as?"

"The first is that a single drop of blood would not be enough to set Jasper off," he says. "Especially since I always insist that he gorge himself on blood before you come over to visit. The second is that such a scenario, even if it were true, would not be enough to send me away from you.

"The third is that even if I was crazy enough to want to do that, my whole family wouldn't leave with me. In fact, they would try to talk me out of it, except for Rosalie maybe. But the rest of them think that you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I couldn't go anywhere away from you if I wanted to. And you know that they're right.

"And finally, with Alice's future sight, there is no way that she would ever insist that you come to a party where you could potentially get killed, especially by Jasper, and I might leave you with the intention of never returning."

"She would see that?" I ask. "But paper cuts aren't decisions. They are random acts of fate, or in my case, clumsiness."

"Love, I can see you getting a paper cut and I don't have visions of the future," he says. "But Alice certainly could, or at least the dire repercussions if it happened. You know how closely she watches Jasper's future. She doesn't look out for anyone the way that she looks out for him. And you know it."

"So then the dream could not possibly have been true?" I ask. "Or come true?"

"No, it could not," he says. "Especially now that you're not coming to a party at my house tonight. In fact as we speak, Alice is probably howling in frustration because she sees her plans fading away. I dread facing her when I get back home. But are you really so afraid that I will leave you that you would imagine that such an incident could send me away?"

"Edward," I say with a sigh. "I have been waiting for you to leave me since you came back to school after that little sojourn you took to Alaska the day that you met me, and then almost killed me. You kept dropping all these little hints about leaving me until you came right out in and said it in the hospital in Phoenix. Remember? You told me to go live with Renee in Florida. So that you couldn't hurt me anymore! And then only refused to stay with me no matter what."

"Bella, hush," he says gently. "You have had selective hearing since I met you. Everything that I have said has always been about how it would be better for you if I weren't in your life. I have never wanted to stay away. I may have felt that I had to stay away. But now it's too late."

"Too late?" I ask.

"Too late. You're stuck with me," he says. "Just out of curiosity, what did I give you for your birthday in your dream?"

"A CD recording that you had made of your piano compositions," I say. "It was a gift from you and Alice."

"That's a very good idea," he admits. "I wish I had thought of it. And I guessed that you realized that I would not be able to allow the occasion to pass without giving you something. But actually, it's really quite a different gift, sentimental like the CD, but very much different."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"After my mother passed away, she left behind a collection of beautiful jewelry," he replies. "Some time I will tell you the story of how I acquired it, but it would take too long now. I have given Alice and Esme a few little trinkets, but I really have a hard time parting with any of them.

"I have one that I had planned to give to you later today. I figured that you might accept it graciously because it did not cost me a penny, other than to get it cleaned. But since you are awake and I'm still trying to convince you that I would never leave you, I think that it's more appropriate that I give it to you now."

"Are you sure that you want to part with it?" I ask.

"I don't feel like I'm parting with it," he says. "Because I never want to be apart from you. I feel that it will still always be with me. So here it is. This is all the proof that you need to know that I will never leave you again."

I swallow hard as he puts a velvet box in my hand.

"I know that you don't like a fuss," he says tenderly. "But this isn't a fuss. It's just you and me. I didn't even wrap it, so it's not a real birthday gift. Let's call it a token. No, more than that it's a symbol of my love for you. And because it's a hand-me-down, I really and truly haven't spent any money on it."

I slowly open the box and see a dime-size crystal heart attached to a thick gold chain.

"This represents my heart because it is as silent as it is," he says quietly. "I hope that you will always wear it so that my heart is next to yours."

"Always," I breathe, as I lift it out and turn it around to catch the vague light coming in the window. "It's gorgeous. Even in this dim light it sparkles, just like you."

"And it's hard and cold," he adds a little sadly. "Just like my heart, which stopped beating almost a century ago."

"Never," I reply. "You and your heart, for that matter, are never hard and cold to me. And I love the crystal heart. It's exquisite. And once you put it on me, I will never take it off."

Relieved, probably more by my easy acceptance of the gift rather than my belief that the other stuff was all a bad dream, he takes the necklace from my hand and I twist around so that he can put it on me. I want it on me. I want to feel the cool metal around my neck where it will always stay.

After he hooks it on, I can feel his icy, smooth lips on my neck. I lean back against his chest and he wraps me in his arms. We sit there for a long time, just enjoying the moment and the silence in one another's presence. There are no words to express the depth of our feelings for each other. Finally, the light of the weak and murky sun begins to peek over the horizon, and Edward sighs.

"It's time for me to leave," he says. "You're working at Newton's this afternoon, right?"

"Yes," I answer regretfully.

"Then I will see you at school," he says, as he gets up and goes to the window. "What are you going to tell Charlie about the necklace?"

I shrug.

"I'm going to tell him that you gave it to me last night and told me not to open it until this morning," I reply. "It's not that big a deal."

"You really don't know much about jewelry, do you?" he asks.

"Not really," I say. "Why?"

"Because that's not cubic zirconia," he says and slips out the window before I have time to close my mouth, which is now hanging open in amazement.

I walk over to the mirror and look at my reflection. The heart is perfectly centered in the hollow of my neck between my collarbones. It is no longer cold, but warmed by my body temperature. And now that I look at it more closely and feel its weight, I realize that it couldn't be anything but a real diamond. It must be worth a fortune. Who knew that Edward's human family had been so wealthy? But then again, who cares?

Absentmindedly, I pick up the box and notice a slip of paper caught in the side. It is old and yellowed with age. I carefully open it so it doesn't tear. I want to be able to give it back to Edward, as I am sure that it is a memory of his parents. In fact, I'm surprised that he forgot to take it out.

"My beloved Elizabeth, (I read) "May this heart lay close to your heart each day and night of your life. I hope within a year to give you another diamond to wear to proclaim our eternal love to the world. With deepest affection and admiration, Edward Masen. On the occasion of your eighteenth birthday."

I lift the paper up to my lips to kiss it and a gentle fragrance rises from the page. It smells of my Edward, as if he had taken it out and read it many times. And then I realize that he did not leave it behind accidentally. And then I know.

Edward will not be leaving me ever. this is his shy and almost awkward declaration. As if he couldn't find the words to say what he wanted to say himself. So just as I have his mother's precious gem, I have his father's words to her, the very same words that he would like to say to me, but can't. I smile and look at the clock and see that it is nearly six. No doubt Charlie will be looking for me soon so that he can give me the gift that Edward isn't sure that I will like.

I hurry to get ready school, wondering if Mrs. Newton will give me the afternoon off for my birthday. I have a lot of apologizing to do.

Author's note: Some of you are old enough to remember the infamous shower scene on Dallas when Pam Ewing woke up, after thinking that Bobby was dead for a whole season, only to find him alive and well in the shower. That was the inspiration for this story.

But think about it. What kind of a visionary is Alice if she couldn't see Bella getting a paper cut and all the dreadful things that happened as a result? I couldn't see it either, so this is my solution. It was all a nightmare that Bella had before her eighteenth birthday.

The inspiration for the tender moment with the diamond came after I was writing the story and realized that I preferred to make it something other than a light-hearted take off on one of the worst plot twists ever written to save a TV show.

No offense to Stephanie Meyer, but I think this beats the mirror dream. Of course if you really like that part of the story, you can keep it. Haven't you ever had a dream and thought you woke up from it, but it was more of a dream within a dream? Thought so. Me too.