Written by LeandraCullen. Takes place at the beginning of New Moon on the night of Bella's 18th birthday, after the incident at the party, while Bella is sleeping.

Edward:

The brisk autumn air drifted through the open window. The cold breeze wasn't bothering me at all, but I was worried about Bella, for many more reasons that just the draft.

She was tossing and turning, murmuring in her sleep. She sounded like she was in pain, disturbed. It was upsetting, disquieting. I wasn't sure if it was the pain in her arm that was bothering her or if she was simply suffering from a common nightmare. I didn't know which was worse. Her arm was hurt because of me. But Bella's common nightmares were easily far from common for a normal person. Was her mind replaying the sight of Jasper, growling at her, struggling against Emmett's grip to get to her? One of my own, my brother, trying to kill the reason that I exist.

It'd happened within seconds. That's how fast I could put her in danger. My thoughts on right and wrong, which had been so conveniently interrupted earlier, were quickly resuming. I knew that my family was behind me; they would do whatever I thought was necessary to keep Bella safe. But Bella was right about one thing: she had such horrible luck, it was uncanny. What sort of messes would she wind up in if I wasn't here to protect her?

But what sort of messes would she wind up in if I stayed? Was one worse than the other? Was my inclination to stay no more than selfish desire on my part?

My mind was running through each question at the speed of sound, but I was coming up with no answers. Why couldn't there be some sort of a guidebook? A list of set rules detailing what was right and what was wrong? Basic instructions before leaving Earth?

I cast a troubled gaze around the room, not sure what I was searching for and not bothering to linger on details that I'd already memorized. My eyes fell on the bookshelf across the room. It wasn't large or grand, but it served its purpose and was well used. I'd seen Bella pull dozens of books off those shelves. But what caught my attention now was a large, thick, incredibly dusty leather bound volume that I was sure I'd never seen Bella pick up. A book that Bella owned but didn't read? Curiosity spiked through my guilt and self-loathing.

Something about the book beckoned to me. I hesitated, not wanting to disturb Bella. But as soon as I though of it, she murmured something pained in her sleep and rolled over, away from me. I took an unnecessary deep breath, my thoughts flicking from dark to darker for a short moment, and then whisked over to the bookshelf.

With an anxious glance back at Bella, I bent down to examine the anomalously dusty book on its shelf. I could see the title now, embossed in gold, but almost completely obscured by dust and shadow; it would have been invisible to the human eye.

The binding of the book read "Holy Bible."

I knew the book, of course by reputation, and from the much older version in Carlisle's office. Truth be told, I hadn't spent as much focus on this one singularly important book as I had on all the others in our massive library.

Somehow I felt that this Bible might hold some sort of an answer, or at least bring me solace for the night. How or why, I didn't know. And I didn't especially care. I was past the point of desperation. My heart didn't beat, but it felt as though it were racing.

I slowly slid the thick book out of its place on the shelf. I held it carefully, weighing it in my hands. Holding the spine in one hand, I let the Bible fall open.

The pages separated about in the middle. The words were arranged in their columns like poems or verses. Psalms. My gaze fell on the right hand page. Psalm 91. Intrigued for some reason that I couldn't have explained even to myself, I let my eyes trail down along the text, reading the vaguely familiar words. My breath caught when my gaze met the two verses that seemed to perfectly fit into the whole in my thought process.

You will not fear the terror of night,

Nor the arrow that flies by day,

Nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,

Nor the plague that destroys at midday.

I contemplated dozens of possible meanings, how those beautiful and comforting words could be applied to my situation, how they fit my circumstances, how the answered my questions. My first thought was full of dark and self-loathing. I am the 'pestilence that stalks in the darkness.' I was only hurting Bella, only corrupting her world. My mind was laced with melancholy acknowledgement. Acknowledgement of my fate, of my true nature.

But then I looked at the verses again, and I saw something different. "You will not fear the terror of night." Maybe it was saying that I wasn't pestilence. I walked in that world, and with me so did Bella, but we didn't need to be afraid of it. Maybe it meant that we could stay together. We just needed a little…faith.

I almost felt my heart flutter with hope. But I was still hesitant to accept these new ideas, as desperately as I wanted to. My eyebrow knit as I flipped randomly to another page.

I ended up at almost the very beginning of Genesis. Again I let my eyes scroll down a couple of pages. This time I felt that I was searching for something specific, but I didn't know what. My gaze stopped abruptly on verse 1:27, the words seeming to glow through the monotonous print.

So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.

Every human was created in the image of our God. So Bella was safe…if she stayed away from me. Because I wasn't human. I wasn't created in the image of God. My heart sank as I was reminded of the literal species gap between Bella and I. But again, when I read the verse a second time, the meaning of the words changed for me, like I was reading them with someone else's eyes. I used to be human, made in the image or my original creator. And then I'd been made a monster, yes, but by way of saving my life. I'd gotten another chance. Not only that, but an opportunity to defy the devil. To make myself once more in the image or my creator—my true creator.

Encouraged, but hardly prepared to fully accept what could very well have been wishful thinking on my part, I thumbed through the pages before stopping at Exodus 20. Again, I hadn't been actively searching for this particular passage, it just jumped out at me, the words seeming bolder than the rest on the page.

I skimmed the chapter. The Ten Commandments. Of course I was familiar with this one. I ran through the scriptures in my head a couple of times. Nothing particularly new came to me. This passage felt like a condition, a reminder. If I did choose to stay with Bella, if I decided that it wasn't wrong to love her, then I would have to remember to live by these for eternity. I glanced skyward and then let my gaze fall on Bella. In that moment, I realized just how hard it would be to leave her. I looked back down at the Bible in my hands and nodded. For Bella, there was nothing I wouldn't do, no extremes to which I wouldn't strive. If my conclusions led me to stay, I could follow every commandment to the letter.

When I felt that I was through with Exodus, I flipped to the New Testament.

I found myself at the beginning of Luke. This time I read through several pages before finding the passage that seemed just a bit bolder, just a bit brighter. It was Luke 15.

The son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.'

But the father said to his servants, 'Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let us have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again, was lost and is found.' So they began to celebrate.

I felt as if God was speaking to me directly through these verses. I'd never felt such an extreme and inexplicable rush of love and acceptance; I thought that I'd experienced the max with Bella. I looked at verse 24 again. 'For this son of mine was dead and is alive again, was lost and is found.' I was dead, but Bella made me feel alive. I was lost, but Bella found me. I hadn't actually prayed in months; not since Bella was in the ballet studio, but now I found myself fervently thanking God for giving me whatever time that I had with her, whether that meant two more days or the rest of eternity.

Closure looming nearer and nearer, I flipped one more time to a new page. I barely glanced at the words before recognizing the bold glow that I had come to look for like flashing neon lights.

If I speak with the tongues of man and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or clanging symbol. If I have the gift of prophesy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude or self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

If I could cry, my eyes would have been swimming now. This passage was telling me something specific and profound, peaking directly to my unbeating heart. I could go anywhere, do anything, with Bella's best interests in mind, but I knew what that would entail. It would take everything that I had to leave her; I'd have to shut down completely. After that, I wouldn't have love. I wouldn't have anything. I would be 'only a resounding gong or clanging cymbal.' I would do what I had to do. But afterward, I would be nothing.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

I closed the Bible and placed it back on the shelf, my decision made. I hated how much Bella had been harmed just by what I am. But to give her up now? Who was to say that Bella's life hadn't been permanently stained by our time together? Who could tell me that she was safer without me? No one could. There was no way I could be sure. In the absence of absolution, I had to hope. I had to trust. I had to persevere.

A feeling of peace settling around me, I sat down carefully on the bed again. I gently stroked Bella's hair away from her eyes, letting my hand linger on her face. Her breathing steadied and she leaned into my palm with a contented sigh, as if she could hear me saying that I wouldn't leave her.