Author's Note: Please don't ask me what got me into this fandom. I really don't know myself. Maybe I will blame The Angelic Demoness, for telling me that she's been looking into HP/Twilight crossovers, so that as I was attempting to write my HP fic, I somehow ended up with this. Though perhaps I'm still upset at the ending of Breaking Dawn, because life does not fit into a perfect little box. At the end of Breaking Dawn, we're supposed to believe that Edward, Bella, and Jacob's lives are not only fitting into boxes, but that those boxes are wrapped up and tied with bows.

So here's what I think of as the real ending. And although it's not bursting with happiness and sparkles, it's not really that sad, either.


Not Enough


"Bella!" Edward cried angrily. "You have no personality! It's always either 'yes, dear' or an 'I'm not good enough!'" He threw up his hands and then went stopped suddenly, doing nothing but shaking his head.

"But… but I…" Bella began, tears forming in her eyes. She looked so helpless, and as much as Edward hated himself for putting the object of his affections in that position, he knew it had to be done.

"If you want to disagree, tell me your hobbies," he said weakly, leaning against the counter. The worst part of the whole thing was that Edward had realized he hadn't deprived the girl of her soul when he had turned her into a vampire. It was the realization that she had always been that way—empty.

"But… you can't…" she began, sniffling uncontrollably and drawing her arms around herself. She shook her head. "No…."

"Why do you think Renesmee ran off?" he asked wearily, his tongue catching on the name of their daughter. He missed her more than he really liked to admit it.

This time, tears broke free from Bella's face. She peered up at him and hiccupped. "She-she loves Jacob, Edward. So they have to be together." To Bella, it was the simplest and most perfect reason. Had he really been so blind, thinking he'd be happy forever with someone so childlike?

"Come on, honey," he said, giving in to the urge to pull her close to him. He held her cool body against his, feeling her melt into sobs on his chest. "Love's not so simple. I thought… I thought you knew that.

"We're not a fairytale, Bella. We're not guaranteed a happy ending."

"Wha-what are you saying?" she asked, looking up at him with something like alarm on her face. "That we're not going to live happily ever after or something?" She punched him weekly on the shoulder. "It's not like I thought we were guaranteed perfection or something," she went on, and the sniffling started again.

"Really?" he asked gently. She twitched and looked up at him with an expression of hurt. "Can you honestly say you didn't expect it all to work out perfectly?"

Bella was caught somewhere between nodding and shaking her head. She bit her lip and wrinkled her forehead, and then just leaned into him and sobbed harder. "I thought… you loved me!" she cried pathetically.

"Yeah, well… me, too."


The emptiness that had entered the house since Renesmee's departure had been replaced by a brooding tension. The echoes of their fights—Edward's sudden outbursts and weary tones, followed by Bella's constant denials and sporadic sobs—lingered in the kitchen, the dining room, the family room, and worst of all, the bedroom.

As usual, Bella would cuddle up next to him, placing her cheek on his collarbone, but Edward still felt distant, troubled by his own thoughts. Bella was… empty. She lacked the little details that made a person a person. She had no life outside her world of himself, their daughter, and the rest of the Cullens. Once, there had been Jacob for her, but even wolf-boy had become just an extension of Renesmee in her mind. Bella was without so many things that it seemed more appropriate to say that Bella simply wasn't.

The truth was, he couldn't blame Renesmee for leaving them. She may only have been five years old, but she could certainly take care of herself like any competent adult. Bella had not been privy to many a silent conversation between father and daughter. As she grew older, Renesmee began taking advantage of Edward's ability to read minds, as well as her own ability to project her thoughts clearly with a simple touch.

She'd concentrate on a subject, mull it over long enough for her father to understand what she was thinking, brushing past him lightly if she wanted to really get her point across clearly. She'd wait for Edward to nod or shake his head, and then move on to the next topic. But it became more and more obvious that she was speaking less and less to her mother.

Edward had at first thought that it was just a phase all daughters want to go through. Bella had lived apart from her mother during all the years he had known her, after all.

Often, when Edward found himself lying awake in bed, not in the mood for anything more than simply lying next to his wife, he'd find his thoughts spiraling back to that day, nearly a year ago, when Renesmee had shown him she desired to talk about something complicated.

After dinner, he had sat with his daughter on the front porch while Bella did the laundry inside. It had been hard to believe that Renesmee had grown up so fast—she had looked to be approaching her teens that night—and far too old to be the daughter of such young-looking parents. Amazingly enough, Renesmee's intelligence had always surpassed her growth. She appeared as the world's cleverest 12 year old, with those mysterious and beautiful amber eyes that the Cullen family shared.

"Dad…" she had begun quietly, and Edward had known to pay careful attention to her words. Whenever his child chose to speak out loud, she had something important to say. "Do you ever wonder sometimes about mom?"

Edward had blinked a little in confusion, using her mental cues to figure out what she meant. Even so, it had been hard to follow her thoughts, as she was nearly as confused about her meaning. She had shaken her head, her long, dark tresses waving softly and catching moonlight.

"I mean, what does she do?" Renesmee had asked, and Edward had caught images of Bella in a suit, carrying papers to some kind of staff meeting, followed by images of her in a doctor's scrubs, a firefighter's heavy suit, a spelunker's helmet and jumpsuit…. Renesmee had turned to him. "Does mom actually do anything?"

Edward had known she wasn't talking about how much effort Bella put into caring for her family. Renesmee had wanted assurance that Bella did something outside of the family, that she had a life beyond her daughter and husband.

And Edward… had been at a loss for words.

"She… didn't go to college because of me," Renesmee had continued, staring out across their dew-dropped lawn.

"That wasn't strictly your mother's fault, you know," Edward had said carefully. He remembered that he had suddenly hoped he wasn't in for a 'birds and the bees' talk.

"Yeah, but you manage to do things, dad. I mean, it's hard because you'll always look young, but I know that ever since I was born, you wanted to do something on your own. That's why we don't live with Grandpa Carlisle anymore, isn't it?"

Edward nodded slowly. He and Bella had wanted to build their own family. They had wanted to go through all the motions that normal, human families went through, hoping that Renesmee would benefit from the environment. It was difficult, however, to always be switching schools (because even a full year at the same school revealed too much of Renesmee's quick growth), so Bella had eventually volunteered to homeschool their daughter with Esme. Edward had worried constantly about their daughter's social growth and lack of friends, and had even encouraged Jacob's frequent visits, just so Renesmee wouldn't grow up in isolation of people outside her family.

A child raised by vampires… it wasn't natural no matter how he looked at it, no matter how much love existed in her environment. And so he worried. And so he pretended to be human as much as possible.

Early in Renesmee's childhood, Edward had put his musical talents to work for him, and managed to secure a deal with a record label. He used a different name, and made sure that strict confidentiality was written into his contract. He could use the income, certainly, but he couldn't afford the price of fame.

If found, the Volturi would hunt them down within days, and Bella wasn't an unpredictably strong newborn anymore. She wouldn't be able to protect them all in a second round.

He had figured that his own work would be a benefit to Renesmee, a way to give her a picture of a normal life so that once she matured, she could go to college herself and make new friends.

But… somewhere along the line, he had failed his daughter. And as time went on, it became clear that it wasn't really Edward who had failed, but Bella, which in many ways, was worse. It left a thick and disgusting taste in his mouth when he considered it.

Bella was a housewife. Cleaning, laundry, paying bills, and nurturing Renesmee were her entire life. And what her daughter wanted was proof that a woman could be more than a housewife. At the same time, it wasn't as if Renesmee didn't watch tv, and see examples of women with careers. In some ways, she had to know it was perfectly possible.

But what she had conveyed to Edward that summer evening ran deeper. Could a vampire have a normal career? Was it possible for someone like her to have her own life, or would she be sucked into the same pattern of eternally in love? Was it that her life was already planned out for her? That when she grew up, in only the next few years, she would marry Jacob, and they'd live in the house next door. That she'd then spend her life cooped up, a hen in her henhouse, cleaning and doing laundry and paying bills and nurturing her husband and future children.

Edward had done the best he could to allay her fears, but he knew he had never put them entirely to rest. It became a shared worry between them, that Bella wasn't really a good mother—or rather, she was a perfect mother, but lacking as a woman. The more Renesmee pointed it out, the more Edward noticed it.

And the more he noticed it, the more he realized that Bella would always be Bella. She would always stay that way. And it broke his heart to realize that she had always been that way.

Any personality, any subtle characteristics, anything truly belonging to Bella other than her appearance and the love she felt for him… all of that had been his own imagination. She was nothing more than a shell. Filled with love, certainly—she had proved that enough times—but lacking everything else.

Months after his conversation with Renesmee, he had asked his wife if she wanted to go to college. He could easily take care of Renesmee while she took classes. He told her it would set a good example for their daughter.

And Bella… had resisted. He had always known she had never wanted to go to college, had instead favored spending time with Edward. But she brought up excuse after excuse—Renesmee's education (which Esme was happy to continue on her own), running the household, and other mindless details of Bella's wifely and motherly existence.

"Bella, sweetie, you have to do something for yourself, you know," he had insisted gently.

She had shaken her head, and said that doing things for the people she loved was enough. The honesty in her words had cut him to the core, and for the next few weeks, he had been plagued by the thought that it was his fault. All the trials he had put her through early in their relationship… had that been the cause of her lack of self?

But those thoughts had been swept away—or at least put on hold—when Renesmee angrily joined them at dinner, making an announcement that had nearly made Bella collapse in shock.

"I told Jacob to stay away," she had declared, tossing her curls, which she had decided to cut short. "I don't like him anymore."

"B-but he loves you!" Bella had cried, trying to recover. "What happened, baby?" she had crooned softly.

"I'm not a baby, mom," Renesmee had replied curtly. "And I just feel so trapped when I'm around him, so I told him to stay away. You don't want me feeling trapped, do you?" she had asked her mother levelly.

Bella had been even more shocked. Only a few years ago, Bella herself had been in this rebellious phase, and the truth was that neither parent was quite ready to deal with it yet. Edward could read the way Renesmee found it easy to manipulate her mom by her emotions.

"Renesmee, of course we don't want you feeling trapped. This just comes as a surprise, that's all," Edward jumped in, giving his daughter an equally level stare. Pushing her mother around was not going to be tolerated.

He heard the retort in his daughter's mind. It shouldn't surprise you, dad. You actually know what it's like to have a life. I'm just trying to be like you, after all. Isn't that what you want? For me not to grow up as empty as mom?

"Renesmee Carlie Cullen, I know exactly what you're thinking, young lady, and I don't like it." It might have been the first time he had raised his voice to his daughter, and both women of the house were surprised. Even Edward had been surprised to hear the severity of his tone. "You will not try to manipulate your family this way, and instead you will be open and honest with us, just as we are open and honest with you." He paused for a moment to give his daughter a formidable glare. "Are we clear?"

But instead of calming down or apologizing, Renesmee had shot to her feet in anger. "Well isn't this fitting? It's like a freaking play the way you two act so perfectly old-fashioned! Damn it, mom, it's not like you have to jump when I'm angry—I'm a fucking person, alright?! And dad, go ahead, get angry! Do whatever to try to keep me in line! You're the man of the house, right?" Renesmee had slammed her palms to the table, sending a long crack through the wood. "Well, guess what. I've got news for you! I'm not going to fit into your perfect little family box, okay?!"

She had stormed out of the room, stomping up the stairs and slamming her door shut behind her.

Edward had still been privy to her angry thoughts as she had exited the room. He could hear the desperation in her mind.

I'm trapped! At this rate, I'll never get out..


The argument had been a surprise, but Bella had been easily pacified by the news later that week that her daughter had made up with Jacob. Edward, however, could tell that things remained different. Renesmee, even though she spent time with the werewolf, held herself apart.

"I… I want to be able to choose things for myself," she had confided in him late one evening, nearly a year after their first conversation. To a human eye, she was an average 15 year old, with her usual dark make-up and close-cropped brown hair. "If I just go along with the flow, no matter how good that flow is… it's like I'm not reaching out for something that might be better. It's boring, and I feel… I dunno, powerless."

Edward had nodded, letting out a long sigh. "You're a smart girl, Renesmee. Your mother and I are very proud of you—"

She had snorted and Edward had had no trouble with her thoughts: Like I care what mom thinks. I could be a drug addict, and as long as I 'tried hard' in rehab, she'd be proud.

Edward had sighed heavily again. "What I mean to say is that you've done well with everything life's thrown at you. You're only five years old, and… look at you. I bet you'll be able to apply to college soon, and each one would love to have you."

Not that college is important, though. I mean, it's not like mom went. Her thoughts had been sarcastic and biting.

"That's not the point, Renesmee. Just hear me out as quietly as possible."

"You're reading my thoughts, dad. I am being quiet."

Edward had paused, and then continued. "Sorry. What I'm saying, honey, is that you're not powerless. I'm not here to trap you into some life you don't want to live. If you don't like Jacob, then don't see Jacob. And if you do like him, then spend time with him. If you want to go to college, go to college. If you want to spend a year in high school, you can do that." He had looked her carefully in the eyes. "I'm behind you every step of the way."

She had rolled her eyes back at him and leaned forward, curling her knees up to her chest. "I guess I don't know exactly what I want to do—only what I don't want to do. Jacob… he's like a pedo, dad," she said with a laugh. "He's been in love with me since I was born—how weird is that?" She had shaken her head, and Edward had chosen to remain silent, reading that her thoughts were still flowing forward. "And it's beginning to be that I can't stand being in the same house with mom. She's such a happy little homemaker, and I get the feeling she expects me to be the same. I can't do that, dad. I can't be like her. Maybe I'm too selfish—"

"No, that's not it," Edward had cut her off abruptly. "Your mother just… works differently than most people. She loves things with her whole being, you know, and that doesn't leave any room for herself." He had hoped that the tone of his voice hadn't been as bleak as he had felt at saying the words aloud.

Renesmee had poked at the porch deck, not wanting to look at him. "She doesn't have to, you know. It'd be alright."

Edward had only nodded once again.


Thus, when he had found the note from Renesmee, he hadn't been surprised. Bella had cried, of course, when he had showed her the carefully-written letter, spelling out Renesmee's decision to travel the world with Jacob.

Edward had been able to read between the lines as effortlessly as if Renesmee had been standing in front of him, thinking her thoughts clearly.

It wasn't so much that Renesmee wanted to be with Jacob as she wanted to be away from Bella. He wasn't even sure if she was indeed with Jacob or not, though it would have been foolish to not take him along. He would have shown up at Edward and Bella's house asking for her at some point if he weren't around.

But Bella… she did indeed think that Renesmee had suddenly realized her love for the wolf-boy, and had left because she wanted to see the wide expanse of the world.

Edward hadn't really had the heart to tell her otherwise. Perhaps it was this sort of thing that caused them to drift apart, that caused Edward to really see Bella through his daughter's eyes, even after she had gone.


"Bella, I'd hate to make some kind of ultimatum, but so help me if I won't!" he said testily.

As usual, she looked as if she weren't ready to deal with anything. Had he sheltered her too much during her last human years? Her eyes were filling up with tears.

"You've got to find something for yourself, or else it's going to drive me insane. It's great that you can give so much, but your selflessness is what's tearing this family apart!"

"I… don't understand," she said weakly.

"You've got no life, Bella! You never have! I'm sorry I didn't realize this earlier, but it's true!" Edward cried desperately, the words dropping out of his mouth like an unstoppable barrage of missiles. "And it's not working out any more! It was ridiculous to decide that we could love each other forever after such a short time together! Yet I let you push me into marriage!"

Bella was now looking horrified, but the dam within Edward had broken, and the words continued to pour out.

"It's like you're not even there, Bella! There's nothing in you! When I look into your eyes, I want to see you, not a reflection of myself! I can't love you that way!"

Bella eyes widened and she dropped to her knees, arms wrapping around herself. Edward shook his head slowly, taking a step back.

"I can't love you if the only thing you are is love for me. I… I guess we thought that love itself was good enough, but it's not.

"It's not, Bella, and I'm sorry."


After the divorce, Bella had moved up to Alaska with Esme and Carlisle. Rosalie and Emmet bought a house in the Yukon not too far away, but far enough away to be considered far away. Edward knew that Rosalie disapproved of the way he and Bella had raised Renesmee, and thinking about it now, he couldn't blame her. Alice and Jasper spent their time moving back and forth between the two houses.

Edward had sent word to Renesmee through the wolf pack when the paperwork was finalized, and had returned alone to the Cullen house in Forks. Only a few days later, Jacob stopped by the house, dressed in the old clothes he had left under the porch, bringing news of Renesmee. He had last seen her at a youth hostel in Norway, planning a trip to the arctic with some new friends. She had been well, he said, with only a slight bit of bitterness in his voice.

"Everything seemed perfect a few years ago, huh?" Edward mused wistfully.

Jacob snorted. "Perfect? I don't know what fairytale you were living in. Things were such a mess back then."

Edward shook his head. "It was Bella's fairytale. We were all living in it, weren't we."

At this, Jacob looked out into the woods. The humor in his voice was much darker. "Psh. I guess we were. I really don't know what you were thinking when the two of you decided you were really ready for a kid."

"Hey, you know the spell little Nessie cast on us—probably better than most." Edward could hear the silent assent in Jacob's mind. As much as Edward loved his daughter, he knew that Jacob's love for her had been a more even, constant, burning flame. Due to the way his wolfy kind worked, he was bound to love Renesmee forever. Some hard-wired switch within him had been flipped, and now it was permanently stuck. Unfortunately, it appeared as if Renesmee wasn't really going to return those feelings any time soon, if ever.

Jacob let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah, yeah. But I guess we two bachelors get it now, don't we."

Edward nodded, following Jacob's gaze into the darkness of the woods, reminded of the days he had sat on the porch steps with Renesmee rather than Jacob at his side, of the nights when he had run through those dark woods to Bella Swan's house, of the very first moment he had seen her, and felt his head reel and his blood pound.

He had loved her… and probably still did.

But, as Jacob had said, he got it now.

Love alone isn't enough.


Author's note: Please review. I may never enter this fandom again, but I'd appreciate comments.