A/N:

~ This is the first re-edited/re-posted chapter for this story. Please refer to my profile for more information. PM me with any questions.

- Kassidy

DISCLAIMERS:

*Slaps self* Still don't own Twilight...

EPOV

Bella used to be the picture of serenity and relaxation while she slept.

One lone night had changed that. Now, she tossed and turned and screamed violently. Begging me to find her, asking James to spare her. Her restlessness became more prominent over time, instead of less so, as one would expect. The tortured facial expressions haunted me every day.

Regardless of her disturbing antics, she was beautiful. Even with the gigantic cast consuming her leg and multiple bruises left over from the fight. The entire ordeal was my fault, and I was endlessly agonized by the memories. That didn't mean I wasn't grateful that she'd made it out alive—no matter how many injuries made it out with her.

It was obvious that Bella's nightmares caused her great emotional turmoil. To make it worse, they affected her physical health as well. Her unconscious movements pressured her injuries. The constant tossing threatened her fragile ribs, and more than once did I fear she would damage her already cracked skull.

I took it upon myself to keep her unmoving while she slept, so as not to stress her already precarious physical health. She'd been through enough - the last thing she needed was to fall off the bed.

Every night I sat at the end of her bed, with her casted leg on my lap, so I could hold it in place. When she would try to move, I would hold her leg with one hand and lean forward to kiss her forehead. Such strategy was invented during her first nightmarish fit. I had panicked, not sure how I would be able to calm her without waking her. The only thing I could think of doing was kiss her, and-to my great surprise and pleasure- that worked.

Bella began to mumble in her sleep, "Edward, my rib hurts. Edward I love you. Edward where are my crayons?"

I laughed quietly; crayons? That wasn't something I heard often. I would need to check the pain killers Carlisle had her on.

I looked over her beautiful features- her full lips, milky skin, her long lashes, luscious mahogany hair which was slightly wavy from being wet.

I wished there were words to describe the way she made me feel. Resurrected? Clichéd, but true. Whole? Absolutely. Her presence made things right. Her love made things perfect. Her face made the dimmest room light up.

She also caused me to think in overly figurative terms.

Bella twitched. At first I thought she was about to resituate herself. Her flinches became more prominent, more violent. She was dodging something- her body was jerking and twisting unnaturally. I had never witnessed such a horrid reaction to a nightmare.

I contemplated waking her up. I tried briefly. I failed miserably. Bella was stuck inside her head, she was being held hostage by her own imagination. I could see I wouldn't be able to wake her gently, so I gave up on the institution. I tried a different tactic. I set her leg down, and lurched forward to smash my lips to hers.

She didn't wake, but whimpered, "Don't let him, Edward! Stop, James no!"

Nothing was working. I understood it was imperative to wake her up immediately. I kissed her again-speaking softly to her, hoping my words would break through her terrors and awaken her.

"Bella, love it's alright. It was just a dream," I whispered, as if she would break at the sound of my voice.

She shot up, and I hopped off the bed so her delicate head wouldn't collide with my stone one.

Her breathing was jagged and her eyes weren't focused, "Edward?"

I joined her on the bed once again, wrapping my arms around her and encouraging her to lay her head on my chest. "James is dead Bella. He isn't going to hurt you."

She moved to look at me, her brow furrowed, "That's not what my dream was about."

I pursed my lips, "Well then what was it about?"

"I wasn't worried about James attacking me- I was worrying about him getting you."

"I don't understand," I admitted.

She sighed, "Edward, if I died,"—I flinched at the words—"I would die knowing I was lucky enough to experience the greatest love ever. I could die happy. I would die happy. If you died, my life would be nothing. The only thing I would experience afterwards would be suffering."

"Bella you never have to worry about suffering," I whispered brokenly, "I will never let you suffer."

My words were true. Bella wasn't allowed to suffer. It was unacceptable. It was part of the reason why I wouldn't change her, that process required suffering on many different levels.

She wanted it—or she thought she did. She was willing to live with the trials… with the agony. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger? Technically I would be killing her and making her stronger. But that didn't solve our entirety of issues.

I wanted an eternity with Bella, but I couldn't tarnish all her innocence and warmth for a damned existence by my side.

"Edward, I suffer when you suffer. With me dead, will you be suffering?" Bella was intelligent. She knew me well.

"I will suffer when you are gone. But death…It's life. It's natural. I refuse to remain in a world that isn't graced with your heartbeat anyways. I will soon follow." My suffering was a deserved punishment.

As if Bella could read my mind, she said, "Edward, you didn't choose this life. You aren't a monster. You have more appreciation and respect for human life than most humans do. You refrain from killing me. You love more passionately than anyone I know."

I thought about her words for a minute, "Maybe, but I've killed before. How do you excuse that?"

She shrugged, "It doesn't matter. I love you."

I pulled her against my chest once again, resting my cheek on her head. She sighed, nuzzling her face into my neck.

As her breath evened out, and I knew she was on the brink of sleep, I muttered, "I love you too."