Disclaimer: I do not own My Sister's Keeper, or Twilight

Warning: Spoilers for My Sisters Keeper.

It's really a wonder that I haven't dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. Yet I keep them, because in spite of everything, I still believe that people really are good at heart.

- Anne Frank

Alice

Most babies are accidents, mistakes, the result of a drunken night, or because birth control isn't one hundred percent. Not me. I was made for the sole purpose of saving my sister. Bella has acute promyelcotic leukemia. Actually, that's not quite true—right now she doesn't have it, but it's there hiding under her skin, waiting to flare up again.

She was diagnosed when she was two; she's seventeen now. I'm an allogeneic donor—a perfect sibling match. When Bella needs leukocytes or stem cells or bone marrow to fool her body into thinking it's healthy, she gets them from me. Nearly every time Bella's hospitalized, I end up there, too.

As I am walking through to the lounge my mother sticks her head out of the kitchen.

"Ah, just the girl I wanted to see." She says, giving me a small smile.

My mother could be beautiful, if she were parachuted into someone else's life. She has long dark brown hair and the fine collarbones of a princess, but the corners of her mouth turn down, like she's swallowed bitter news, which she has, and plenty of it. She doesn't work, because she needs to be there for Bella if she should develop a bruise or a nosebleed, but I know she once dreamed of owning a bakery. Dad told me she used to bake all the time. She doesn't really do it that often anymore, only if Bella requests something, or special occasions like Birthday's and Christmas'. That's the sacrifice she's had to make.

"Can you set the table for me?" She asks. I watch her rush around the kitchen. I can see she's satisfied being there. All food has to be steamed, organic and germ-free, so Bella doesn't get sick. I'm about to respond but before I can agree to help, my mother goes perfectly still. She holds up a hand, shushing me. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Bella."

"I didn't hear anything."

But she doesn't take my word for it, because when it comes to Bella she doesn't take anybody's word for it. She marches upstairs and opens up our bedroom door to find my sister hysterical on her bed, and just like that the world collapses again.

"Bella!" My mother sinks down to the floor, the skirt of her dress a cloud around her. "Bella, honey, what hurts?"

Bella hugs a pillow to her stomach, and tears keep streaming down her face. Her breathing's too tight. I stand frozen waiting for instructions: Call Dad. Call 911. Call Dr. Jones. "It's Preston," she sobs. "He's leaving Serena for good."

That's when we notice the TV. On screen, a blond hottie gives a long look to a woman crying almost as hard as my sister, and then leaves out the door. "But what hurts?" my mother asks, surely there has to be more to it than this.

"Oh my God," Bella says, sniffling. "Do you have any idea how much Serena and Preston have been through? Do you?"

That fist inside me relaxes, now that I know it's all right. Normal, in our house, is like a blanket too short for a bed—sometimes it covers you just fine, and other times it leaves you cold and shaking; and worst of all, you never know which of the two it's going to be. I sit down on the end of Bella's bed. At different times this summer she has been crazy for Callahan, Wyatt, and Liam, the male leads on this soap. Now, I guess, it's all about Preston.

"There was the kidnapping scare," I volunteer. I actually followed that story line; Bella made me tape the show during her dialysis sessions.

"And the time she almost married his twin by mistake," Bella adds.

"Don't forget when he died in the boat accident. For two months, anyway." My mother joins the conversation, and I remember that she used to watch this soap too, sitting with Bella in the hospital.

My mother gets up, standing in front of Bella. "You're sure nothing hurts?" Bella shakes her head quickly.

After my mother leaves, Bella sinks a little. That's the only way to describe it—how fast color drains from her face, how she disappears against the pillows. As she gets sicker, she fades a little, until I am afraid one day I will wake up and not be able to see her at all. "Excuse me Ali," Bella says. "You're blocking the picture."

So I go to sit on my own bed. "It's only the coming attractions."

"I know but if I die tonight I want to know what I'm missing." She says with a cheeky grin. I smile back weakly, not really finding the humor, but really I know, it's the only way to deal with our situation.

I fluff my pillows up under my head. My mother, as usual, has swapped them so that Bella has all the expensive ones that don't feel like rocks under your neck. She's supposed to deserve this, because she's three years older than me, or because she's sick, or because the moon is in Aquarius—there's always a reason. I squint at the television, wishing I could flip through the stations, knowing I don't have a prayer. "Preston looks like he's made out of plastic."

"Then why did I hear you whispering his name last night into your pillow?" Bella jokes.

"Shut up," I say.

"You shut up." Then she smiles at me. "He probably is gay, though. Quite a waste, considering the Swan sisters are–" Wincing, she breaks off mid–sentence, and I roll toward her.

"Bella?"

She rubs her lower back. "It's nothing."

It's her kidneys. "Want me to get Mom?"

"Not yet." She reaches between our beds, which are just far enough for us to reach each other if we both try. I hold out my hand too. When we were little we'd make this bridge and try to see how many Barbie's we could get to balance on it.

Suddenly all resentment I may have been harboring is gone, because when I really look at the situation, I know, that it's not my sister's fault and I love her too much to be mad that things are the way they are.

"Sissy, I need you to do something for me. If you do this for me, I promise it's the only thing I'll ever ask for again." Bella whispers. I listen to her request in silence. After she's finished she looks at me with so much pain that I want to look away, but I don't. "Please." She begs.

"Okay," I whisper my throat feeling tight, "I'll do it."

I was born for a very specific purpose. I wasn't the result of a cheap bottle of wine or the heat of the moment. I was born because a scientist managed to hook up my mother's eggs and my father's sperm to create a specific combination of precious genetic material. Once I was old enough my parents sat me down and explained that they chose little embryonic me, specifically, because I could save my sister, Bella. "We loved you even more," my mother made sure to say, "Because we knew exactly what we were getting."

It made me wonder, though, what would have happened if Bella had been healthy. Chances are, I'd still be floating up in heaven or wherever, waiting to be attached to a body to spend some time on Earth. I would certainly not be part of this family. See, unlike the rest of the free world, I didn't get here by accident. And if your parents have you for a reason, then that reason better exist. Because once it's gone, so are you.

To reach my brother's room, you actually have to leave the house, which is exactly the way he likes it. Emmett moved into the attic over the garage three years ago—a perfect arrangement, since he didn't want my parents to see what he was doing and my parents didn't really want to see. Blocking the stairs to his place are four snow tires, a small wall of cartons, and an oak desk tipped onto its side. Sometimes I think he sets up these obstacles himself, just to make getting to him more of a challenge.

I crawl over the mess and up the stairs, which vibrate with the bass from Emmett's stereo. It takes nearly five whole minutes before he hears me knocking. "What?" He asks, opening the door a crack.

"Can I come in?"

He steps back to let me enter. The room is a sea of dirty clothes and magazines and leftover Chinese take–out cartons; it smells a bit like sweat. The only neat spot is the shelf where Emmett keeps his special collection—a Jaguar's silver mascot, a Mercedes symbol, a Mustang's horse—hood ornaments that he told me he just found lying around, although I'm not dumb enough to believe him.

Don't get me wrong—it isn't that my parents don't care about Emmett or whatever trouble he's gotten himself mixed up in. It's just that they don't really have time to care about it, because it's a problem somewhere lower on the totem pole.

Emmett ignores me, going back to whatever he was doing on the far side of the mess. My attention is caught by a crock pot—one that disappeared out of the kitchen a few months ago – which now sits on top of Emmett TV with a copper tube threaded out of its lid and down through a plastic milk jug filled with ice, emptying into a glass Mason jar. Emmett may be a borderline delinquent, but he's brilliant. Just as I'm about to touch the contraption, Emmett turns around.

"Hey!" He practically flies over the couch to knock my hand away. "Al, I don't want you touching that, your supposed to be the pure one in the family."

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Depends, what do you think it is?" Emmett laughs and throws a t-shirt over it. "So what can I do for you?"

I shrug my shoulders in a casual manner. In trying to save Bella, my parents, they had always forgotten Emmett. He would do anything for us, but he found out a long time ago it doesn't matter much, so now he doesn't even try. Emmett and I have always had a special relationship, with us both being in the same boat. We both love Bella, but we knew what it was like, and we were there for each other. It was worse for Emmett, with the little attention I got it was hard to imagine he got less.

"Is this a social call?" he asks, sitting on the arm of his couch. "Sick of the house? Here to ask if there's room for you to move in?" He gives me a lopsided grin. "If it was something about Bells, you would've already told me."

"Actually, it is about Bella." I stare into my lap. "Her kidney's are failing, I'm sure of it."

"Fuck. Why now." He mumbles shaking his head in anger. He looks up and notices me. "Sorry, Al," Emmett says. "I apologize for the language. It just makes me so angry." Emmett bangs his fist onto his knee.

"It's okay Em. I know me too."

A few moments of silence passed before he speaks again.

"So when she's going back in?"

"I don't know, she hasn't even told mom yet."

"What? Why not?" He shouts angrily.

"I dono, maybe she'd rather pretend that she isn't going to have to go through a huge life changing operation." I grimace.

"Oh, I'm sorry Al; I know this isn't exactly fun for you either. How are you holding up?"

"I'm scared." I answer honestly.

"I know, but it's going to be alright. Just think about all the time off school you'll get, and ice-cream and jelly for weeks! You're gonna be in heaven Al."

"I guess, but will it hurt?"

Emmett looks at me with sadness in his eyes. "I'm not going to lie to you Al, I think it will hurt for a while."

"I thought so, but Em, what if I don't want to do it anymore?"

"You don't want to do what?" Emmett asks, although it looks like he already knows.

"The kidney donation, what if I don't want to. What if, I want to think about myself for once?" He listens, then looks me right in the eye. His eyes are the palest shade of silver, so surprising that sometimes when he stares at you, you can completely forget what you were planning to say.

"Don't mess with the system, Alice," he says bitterly. "We've all got our scripts down pat. Bella plays the martyr. I'm the Lost Cause. And you, you're the Peacekeeper."

"Says who? I don't want it to be this way. I never asked for this!"

"Come on, Al! This is me you're talking to. If I thought you were telling me the truth, I would support you, you know I would! This isn't you though. Tell me the truth. What is this really about?"

Damn, I knew he'd never believe it. He knows me better than anyone. I feel the tears building up in my eyes. I squeeze my eyes shut, and when I open them my vision is blurred, it makes it easier to say what I need to say. "It's Bella. She wants to die."

Emmett stares at a spot on the carpet for what feels like a very long time. I fidget with my fingers nervously.

"We're going to lose our sister, you realize that?" Emmett finally asks.

"Yeah, I know." I say as a tear runs down my cheek. He nods a few times then turns his back to me. I think that maybe now would be a good time to leave. A strangled sob escapes from Emmett, my whole body freezes up. Pretty soon, I'm an emotional mess as well.

Emmett walks over to me and encompasses me in a tight bear hug. I cry into his chest and he holds me tighter. We stand there for ages, falling apart together. After a while Emmett releases me and wipes his eyes of the sleeve of his shirt. Though his eyes are red and slightly puffy, I know that I won't see him cry again. He'll be strong for both us.

"Alright," he says in a shaky voice, "let's go see, Bells."

AN: At the moment this story is very similar to My Sister's Keeper, and as the story get's on I'm going to try to get away from that, and make it more my own. I just need to set the story. Although, in mine you find out very early that it's Bella, who doesn't want Alice to give her a kidney, still her parents don't know though.

Characters:

Charlie Swan- Based on Brian, the father
Renée Swan- Based on Sara, the mother
Bella Swan- Based on Kate, the sick sister
Emmett Swan- Based on Jesse, the brother
Alice Swan- Based on Anna, the IVF sister

Carlisle Cullen- Edward's Father, Bella's Doctor
Esme Cullen- Edward's Mother, Designed the hospital
Edward Cullen- Based on Taylor, the love interest of Bella/Kate (also has cancer)
Rosalie Cullen- Edward's Sister, love interest of Emmett
Jasper Cullen- Edward's Brother, love interest of Alice

Not sure if I'll use these guys yet:

Aro Volturi- Based on Campbell, the lawyer for Alice/Anna (I might not use a lawyer, tell me what you think, I should do)
Jacob Black- In a gang that Emmett gets involved with (Could get too complicated. What do you think, could do like a possible crush on Bella, or is that getting kind of old/boring. Basically asking, any fans of Jacob?)

Thanks for reading.

Please ask questions, make suggestions, and point out errors, or just leave a comment. I'd like to hear it.

Alonsus.