D A W N

D A W N

My Version of Part Four of the Twilight Saga

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The wind is rushing after us, and the clouds are flying after us, and the moon is plunging after us, and the whole wild night is in pursuit of us; but, so far we are pursued by nothing else.

A Tale of Two Cities

--

P R E F A C E

Death and I had known eachother for a long time, now – We were old friends. Pals, even.

We had shook hands more than several times, exchanged words – but never more than parting words. The words of those who were to do their best to avoid eachother.

I wasn't surprised when Death wished to greet me again – I had learned to come to expected my unwanted visitor, for as much as I avoided it, it was inevitable; I knew now that there was no way to ever escape what was meant to be.

I was afraid, of course. It was reasonable to be afraid; expected, even. I could not help but be afraid, no matter how prepared I was to greet it.

But at the same time, I could not help but feel strong. I would not go down without a fight.

Because I knew that I would not have to face Death alone, and such comfort brought me strength.

--

1. C R I M E

I inhaled deeply, trying to return my pulse to its natural rhythm.

It was a futile attempt, of course; my breathing continued to come out in short gasps, an aching feeling settling in my chest.

Familiar hands positioned themselves on my waist, a low chuckling sounding in my ear. "You look so guilty – like you've committed a crime."

I turned to face Edward, attempting to scowl at him. Technically, he was the root of all my anxiety – or more specifically, the anxiety caused by the ring that he had placed on the third finger of my left hand . . .

I couldn't be mad at Edward, of course. That was an impossible task; it was impossible feat to even scowl at his godlike face, to glare at his warm, golden eyes. . .

He cleared his throat, and I was suddenly aware of the familiar rush of heat settling beneath my skin, the familiar watery-feeling weakening my knees. It was easy to lose my grip on reality whenever I was with him.

"I have committed a crime, you know. In Charlie's book, anyway." I groaned, imagining the possible scenarios: Charlie reaching for his gun . . . Charlie attempting to strangle Edward, too late realizing that you could not choke someone who did not need to breathe . . .

"Bella, marriage is not a crime." He rolled his eyes at me, but he could not help but smile. "I'm sure that Charlie will be happy, in his own way. After," he added, chuckling as I looked at him in disbelief, "he's had time to think it over, of course."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Whatever, Edward. Obviously you've never met my father."

He laughed as he guided me to the door, shaking his head as I froze, my body as rigid as a statue. He found the familiar key that was placed under the eave, and gently turning it in the door.

Distant sounds of the game greeted us in the hallway. I turned to Edward again, gazing into his angel eyes. "Is he in a good mood, at least?"

Edward paused for a moment, then nodded. "Very calm," he whispered.

"Bella?" Charlie called out, and at the sound of his voice, my breathing began to hitch again, a strangled sound escaping my lips.

Edward grabbed me by my elbows, pulling me close to him. "Can you do this?" It was the first, true hint of doubt that I had heard in his voice since agreeing to marry him. I looked into his eyes again – his smoldering, liquid eyes – and I found myself sighing, the anxiety lifting. I just had to remind myself of what I was gaining out of this . . . what being married to Edward, the most perfect man in existence, truly meant. "Yes," I whispered back. "I'm ready."

We walked slowly into the living room together, Edward's arm wrapped firmly around my waist, as if he expected me to collapse – honestly, I didn't blame him . . . especially with my accident-prone history.

"Hi, Dad." I wasn't surprised when no sound had come out, other than a dry, raspy noise. I swallowed, trying again. "Hey, Dad."

Charlie's eyes barely left the screen. "Hey, Bells. Have a good day?"

I swallowed again, trying to rid my throat of the dry, cracked feeling. "Um. Yeah."

Edward chuckled again – it was obvious that I wasn't going to make this easy. "Actually, Charlie, we have something that we'd like to tell you."

I instinctively hid my left hand behind my back. He laughed again, but only soft enough for me to hear.

Charlie's eyes tore away from the screen, his attention fully fixed on my face – he had seemed to have forgotten the game entirely. "You have something to tell me?" His voice was immediately laced with heavy suspicion, his eyes narrowing at the red blotches that I was sporting on my cheeks.

"Um. Yeah." I was full of award-winning responses today, apparently.

"Have a seat." His voice had a sharp edge to it that I normally would have found alarming. I attempted to pretend that I hadn't heard it, gratefully collapsed onto the couch; my knees were going to give out soon, anyway.

"Bella, if you will?" Edward's eyes were on me now, making me all the more aware of the familiar heated that cloaked my face. I blinked, surprised to find tears in my eyes. Was I going to express any rational emotion today?

"Dad, Edward and I . . ." My voice sounded horrible; rather than announcing a wedding, it sounded more appropriate for a funeral. I cleared my throat, ready to start again, when I noticed Charlie's face. His normally pasty pallor had deepened to a rich purple, furious spots of red sprouting up on his cheeks. His jaw had fallen open, his eyes widening to the point of nearly bulging from his skull; they were clearly horrified at whatever they were seeing.

I followed his line of vision . . . it fell onto my left hand, which I had left completely exposed on top of my knee..

Crap.

I groaned, bringing my hands to my face. This was stupid. I had known that this was a bad idea! I shouldn't have listened to Edward . . . I shouldn't have agreed . . .

"Bella?" Edward's voice was no more than a soft breath in my ear. I pulled my hands away from my face, afraid to peek, afraid to inspect the damage . . .

"Bella . . . I'm not sure of what to say." Charlie's voice was surprisingly even; I was forcibly reminded of the calm before a storm. "Are you . . . pregnant?" The word was strangled, almost beyond the point of recognition.

My face might as well have set on fire. No, Dad . . . of course not. I've already told you, Edward's old fashioned."

He cleared his throat, obviously glad have been spared that nightmare. "Right, then." His voice was still deadly, frighteningly calm.

I suddenly remembered Edward – he was probably enjoying himself through all of this. I glanced up at him, my suspicions confirmed – his golden eyes were shining with what could only be amusement, the corners of his lips twitching slightly.

"Charlie, I truly love your daughter. I love her more than I have ever loved anyone, or anything. She is my life now – my everything. I thought it only reasonable that if a man feels this way about a woman, and if the woman's feelings are mutual – and by chance, Bella so happens to feel the same way about me as I do about her – then it's only natural that they are joined together in the most holy of ways possible."

Edward's words – spoken in a soft rush – were a symphony, complete by the velvet, perfect voice that they were spoken in. I could not stop the tears that flowed out of my eyes and ran down my cheeks, or the sudden pounding of my heart. Edward's hand was suddenly in mine, and the pounding grew worse. My love for him was impossible; impossibly strong, impossibly unbreakable.

"Are you okay?" His voice was barely more than a breath of air, again just loud enough for me to hear – this did not stop me from noticing his alarm. I laughed weakly. Of course my reactions were ridiculous; if one hadn't known better, it would have looked that I was crying out of grief, and not out of happiness. I nodded, offering him a trembling smile.

For a moment, I had almost forgotten the ticking time bomb sitting across from us – Charlie, weighing the idea of our engagement. I braced myself; I was ready now. I cleared my throat, preparing myself to speak.

"Dad –"

But Charlie's voice suddenly interrupted me, as loud and as fierce as gunfire.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?"

I winced. "Dad, please, listen . . ."

"YOU ARE NOT MARRYING THAT BOY! DO YOU REALIZE HOW OLD YOU ARE? HOW IRRESPONSIBLE YOU'RE BEING?"

I rolled my eyes. "Dad, give me a chance to explain."

"DID YOU NOT LEARN ANYTHING FROM WHAT HAPPENED BETWEEN YOUR MOTHER AND I? OF ALL THE IRRESPONSIBLE THINGS . . ."

My pulse began to quicken, but this time in anger. "Yeah, Dad. Exactly. I've had time to think this through, and I know that things will work with Edward. It's not like how it was with you and Mom . . . I'm sure of that. I know better."

"OVER MY DEAD BODY WILL YOU MARRY THAT BOY!"

"Dad, I don't need your permission to marry him. I'm not a minor, and we can easily go off to Vegas, if that's how you want it –"

Edward's voice was suddenly in my ear, a nearly inaudible murmur; "Stop. He's too angry – we'll have to let him sleep on it."

I opened my mouth to protest, but he stopped me, gently squeezing my hand. "Worse comes to worst, we ask Alice."

I nodded, just barely enough for Edward to see. I stood up, inhaling deeply, attempting to gain control over my anger.

"Edward, I think it's best you leave now. Charlie and I have a lot to discuss."

Edward nodded, keeping up the charade; his eyes were innocent and unknowing. I followed him to the door, kissing him lightly before he darted off into the trees.

I gently closed the door, and then returned to the living room. Charlie seemed to have calmed down slightly, now that Edward was no longer in his presence.

"Dad, I don't know where you come off doing this to me . . . to Edward, especially. It's not fair."

"Not fair? I'll tell you what's not fair, Bella. What are you going to do when he leaves you again, huh? When he abandons you when you need him most? Will it be fair then? I'm not going to have that happen to you again. I won't allow it."

I sighed. "Dad, do you really think I'm that stupid? That I'd put myself back into that position? Edward's not going anywhere, and neither am I."

"You're right – you aren't going anywhere. You're staying right here, where I can keep an eye on you. I don't want you seeing that boy anymore."

I sighed. I hated to pull this out, but I didn't appear to have any other choice. "I'm 18, Dad, and I love him. I've never been so sure about anything in my life. And if you can't respect me enough to trust what I am a hundred percent sure of, then, well . . ." I shrugged. "I have other places to go, where I am more than welcome."

"Bella . . ."

I ignored him, walking towards the stairs. I knew it wouldn't be long before Edward appeared in my room, and the sooner I'd see him, the sooner I would be able to calm down, to relax , to let myself go in his arms . . .

As I neared the top of the staircase, I heard Charlie sigh. "Bella . . . I'm not happy about this."

His words were a resignation; I had won.