Yes, guys, I'm back on this site, and to those who've stuck with me thank you so much for your patience. I promise there won't be a wait that long again. Enjoy!

Chapter Two

Seth meant well, he really did, but his constant solicitations weren't helping in Edward's attempt to keep his mind a perfect blank.

Walking required minimal thought so he was mostly going on autopilot, which was the only reason that when Seth bumped against his side, Edward lost his footing and almost pitched headfirst into a tree. He was distracted. That was all.

Still, the tree provided a comforting presence, so Edward clutched tight to a branch for a moment, fingers sinking into the brown bark, bowed his head and pretended that he couldn't see anybody and therefore they couldn't see him.

The illusion broke when Seth nudged at his hip with a whine. Edward, you okay?

"I'm fine," Edward said in as definite a tone as he could manage, but Seth wasn't fooled.

Are you sure? Maybe you shouldn't be fighting, man, maybe you should sit it out—

Edward shook his head and pushed himself onward despite the hollow feeling in his legs. "I'm fine," he repeated, and if he said it enough then maybe it would start to be true.

She was doing the right thing for herself, and that was all that should've mattered to him. It didn't matter how he felt: Bella deserved to be happy, and so did Jacob Black.

He owed it to them now to make sure their happiness took as peaceful a form as possible, and step one was taking care of the newborn army.

There was a small inkling of relief in that, as well. Edward had never felt comfortable abandoning his family to fight on their own.

Seth took a moment to regress into his pack-mind, checking in on them as he'd been doing periodically. Trying not to actively listen in, Edward looked around.

In the woods the light was dim and green, and in the air there was mostly just the smell of faded sun and snow and time. Edward breathed it in and wished that he could stay there for just a little bit longer.

Edward realized he was still holding onto the ring, turning it over like a talisman in his hand, and he promptly stowed it in his pocket while it still retained warmth from her skin.

Seth shook himself off like he was stepping from water as he left his pack mates' minds, deliberately laying out the image he'd gotten for Edward to see.

There was none of the sense of tension that must have permeated the air in Seth's thoughts, just pictures laced with fondness and concern; Carlisle with a look of determined acceptance on his face, Alice and Jasper whispering so quietly that the wolves could not hear, and a little ways away Paul and Jared play-fighting in the melted snow. Edward wondered dully why Seth was showing him these things that he already knew.

His silent question was answered when Seth glanced over at him with an air of off-handed curiosity.

I was just wondering why you told her that it was going badly, said Seth. We both knew it hadn't even begun.

Edward listened to the brief sounds his heavy paws made against the forest ground.

He said, "I thought she might be less likely to object to us both leaving. If she thought—"

When the truth was that he hadn't known what to say, his usually glib tongue just failing him at the sight of Bella holding Jacob like she'd used to hold him, and the best he'd been able to come up with was a clumsy segue into the fact that he had to go.

His fight, his fault, and it was only fair that he take part in it as well. And now Edward was feeling bruised and tired by Bella's words and the weight of the ring in his jean pocket, but he'd have to be strong enough to just shove that all aside.

It was time to clean up the mess that he had made.

Seth, as if sensing his thoughts, wordlessly nuzzled his hand. Edward tensed so as not to pull away. Seth was just trying to be friendly. And besides, the warmth felt nice, the living presence of somebody voluntarily by his side. It was—comforting.

The gleam of sunlight off skin and chattering voices heralded his family's presence before anything else, and it hurt, their brightness, because he knew that he would be dimming it. Alice at least would be upset by the news.

They broke through the wet green trees into open air sooner than he would have expected, the large expanse of snow before them broken by two distinct groups. The wolves were roving and restless but his family was still, ice-locked in concentration. Edward thought that maybe they wouldn't notice he was there.

Good luck, Seth thought, and Edward had almost forgotten his presence. He casually reached up and ruffled Seth's fur, reminding himself that here was one more person he could not allow to get hurt.

Seth trotted off to join his pack with unconcealed excitement. He was greeted with an immediate spurt of mental chatter that made Edward's head pound, like eyes kept in darkness for too long then exposed to the bright blinding light.

He bit down on his lip and turned to his family, whose thoughts alerted him to the fact that they were watching him expectantly, and well, Edward thought, so much for that.

"Is there a problem, son?" Carlisle asked finally, eyes gleaming gold in the pale sunlight.

Rosalie looked suspicious, which wasn't all that strange a look on her. Wonder why the little princess isn't attached to his hip.

"No problem," Edward said as casually as he could manage. He wanted to allay their growing suspicions, because he was having trouble hiding the expression on his face, but he didn't—he didn't think he could. It was like he'd forgotten how to act.

"No problem," Esme repeated, crossing pale forearms over her light jacket with a distinct air of suspicion. "Then why are you here?"

"Yeah," Rosalie added sourly. "Last I checked the plan was for you to stay up the mountain with your precious girlfriend. Where's the mutt?" Rosalie had, whether deliberately or not, always had a knack for getting to the quick of things.

Edward swallowed back the soreness in his throat. "Jacob and I have switched places."

Emmett's mouth fell open with an audible pop, a vampire-perfect grin spreading across his face. "You're kidding. Bella let you fight down here? How the hell'd you manage that?"

"Like I said," Edward gritted out, turning away so he wouldn't have to see the looks as they understood. "Jacob and I have switched places."

There was a moment of quiet, broken only by the whisper of snow settling gently on the ground, the faint sizzle as it began to melt beneath the sun's white rays. He felt them, but he couldn't feel their warmth. Edward very deliberately didn't turn around.

"That would explain the wolves," Rosalie said eventually, nodding toward where the pack was stationed just beyond a grove of trees. Their eyes gleamed yellow in the green shadow of the leaves, and a few of them seemed to be shooting him covertly guilty looks. The rest just looked the canine version of smug. Fantastic.

Jasper drummed his fingers against his jean-clad thigh, impatient and making it clear. "Edward, will this interfere with your concentration during the fight? Because really, I don't want to risk—"

"I'm fine, Jasper," Edward snapped, wishing more than anything that they would all just leave him alone. He could do this, he told himself. If there was one thing that he knew he was good for, it was loving Bella Swan, and if what she wanted was for him to leave her in peace—

—then he would do that, and be happy for her. She would have a life now, do things the right way; she would never feel the unimaginable, unendurable pain of burning alive.

He wanted to give her a present now, to show he was okay with it, the one thing he'd wanted for her more than anything but never been able to attain. Safety.

He spared a brief thought to Victoria, but there was a reason he'd insisted on going down to the fight himself and it wasn't the one he'd laid out. And it was actually true that in the case of Victoria's single-minded obsession, the people close to Edward were the ones at risk.

Bella had already absented herself from the scene, and Victoria liked things planned out well in advance. This was exactly the sort of change that would leave her floundering and unable to act.

"Fine," said Jasper distractedly, looking them all over with the unsettling air of somebody checking items off a list. "Hair, Rosalie. Carlisle, are you insane, either zip up your jacket or leave it off. No loose flaps of clothing. Edward, I know you didn't hunt with the rest of us, but tell me it wasn't too long ago."

Emmett was staring broodingly at the ground, bare brown with a patchwork of snow.

"I never liked her," he finally announced. "She wasn't even hot. You're better off without her, bro."

Edward hadn't expected him to be especially bothered, but then he'd forgotten just how seriously Emmett took his role as protector of the group.

"She isn't dead, Emmett," Rosalie said softly, face warm and thoughtful as she tied her hair back. "Small favors."

But she was still angry and the others were no better, and Edward was growing concerned. Bella loved his family: he knew that. He didn't want her to lose them over this.

And though he mostly just wanted them to drop it he was going to say something, just to make sure they would still be there for her, but just then Alice froze.

"They'll be coming within the next three minutes," she said softly, voice ringing clear across the snowy field. "Everybody get ready."

Edward wrapped his arms tightly around himself, shirt rough against his skin, and didn't care how defensive the position made him look. He hadn't wanted to abandon his family, but he hated the thought of destroying sentient creatures, hearing their minds wink out of his and leave a blank spot in their place. It made his stomach turn.

And then there was Bella, alone with Jacob unphased and out of contact up on the mountaintop with only him for protection if something did happen and God, God, if he'd had a heartbeat it would have been pounding. It was his worst nightmare, leaving her almost defenseless.

But this was what she wanted. That had to be what mattered most.


When the newborns came they came like a wave, dressed all in black as if choreographed so that it stood out stark against the snow and their glittering limbs.

Edward felt secondhand the excitement that Emmett and Jasper and the wolves were feeling, and he wondered what was so wrong with him that he wasn't feeling it himself.

It wasn't—he wasn't weak. It was just that this was a terrible thing they were going to do, destroying all of this life. He couldn't bring himself to enjoy it.

The first one made the choice for him, rushing at Esme with its pale face set, so intent on its goal that it was simple to yank back into Emmett's waiting arms. Edward turned to the next one and used a dark-clad shoulder as a hinge, spinning the newborn right into his grasp.

A woman, and from the looks of it she'd been beautiful as a human, blond hair bright against the collar of her shirt. She was dizzy and barely aware of Edward's grip, just anger and sheer screaming thirst.

Edward listened to the gleeful way Jasper was dispatching his prey and forced himself to finish the job.

They were too new to be clever and they hadn't been well-trained, just a disorganized mess of fury and constant thirst, and it was strange how these numbers could have been deadly but in fact they were pretty far off the mark.

This was an army whose creator had been ruined by grief.

It was easier after a while, like driving for hours until highway hypnosis set in, the killing moves turned automatic until he no longer had to give them any thought. Edward was selfishly grateful for that.

Things cleared when Edward realized that the influx of newborns had slowed, and he glanced around to see two Quileutes circling a vampire that moved too quickly for their eyes, so that they were left tracking the flashes of light it left behind.

Edward darted over to help, tugged Paul out of the way as the newborn lunged and managed to pin it to the ground. He made the mistake of looking up for a bare moment to check that the wolves were all right, and the newborn instinctively flipped them, leaving him trapped.

It was so heavy that it gave the illusion of heat, despite the cold of its skin and the snow.

He heard a moment of hesitation from the wolf minds closest to him, and then hot breath was on his neck and the wolves were pulling it away.

Edward twisted to his feet and was on it in the same instant. The newborn was a mountain of ice and snow-caked clothes, as tall as the wolves in human form. He tripped it up and sent them both crashing to the ground again, angling his body so he came out on top, and pulled away with its head in his hands.

He left the corpse for Sam and Paul, who eagerly leapt upon it once he backed away. Edward had half expected them not to wait until he was clear: he wasn't sure if he was disappointed or not.

But—loyalty, he thought he'd sensed, somewhere in the recesses of their minds. At least a growing unwillingness to watch a Cullen be hurt. That had to be a good thing, at least a little safer for them all.

A sudden silence and change in the air drew his head up, and Edward realized that it had been the last of them, and the sudden whirlwind of violence was at an end. In its aftermath they were left almost breathless, thrumming with adrenaline that suddenly had no place to go.

And then one wolf howled his triumph and another joined in, and then another, and another, until the place rang with it, and then Sam shut them up. The Cullens just looked at each other and exchanged secret smiles in pairs, like they were exchanging gifts.

Edward felt as if he should join in on the enthusiasm, and he was painfully grateful that nobody had been hurt, but really he just wanted to go off on his own for a bit and go privately to pieces.

The wolves finally retreated back behind the trees, and Edward saw piles of white glistening flesh scattered like driftwood on the gray frozen ground. It almost made it worse that they hadn't been so difficult to destroy: this was what Victoria had made for him, this unbelievable waste of life.

Emmett was examining the ugly scene with a despondence entirely unrelated to Edward's. "Don't tell me that was all."

"That wasn't enough for you?" Rosalie snapped, somehow still lovely and untouched, gleaming golden like a candle through the haze of debris. "Edward, you owe me big time. I'm going to stink for weeks."

"Yeah, sorry, " said Edward distractedly, and wondered why he didn't feel more settled. It was just—there was still so much movement, disturbed snow like settling dust swirling dizzily and a fine tension in the air. He couldn't quite think of anything as done.

Alice chose that moment to lope over to him with a casual, easy grace.

"Edward," she said, voice soft and uncertain, "I don't mean to pry, but Bella—aren't you worried that Victoria will—"

Edward looked at Alice, dark hair outlined strangely against the cast-iron sky, who'd been so quiet when he'd told them of Bella's change of heart only because she was dealing with the loss of her first and only friend.

"It's taken care of," he said, when what he really wanted to say was that he was sorry for messing it all up. "Victoria won't bother with her now."

Not when she'd been within earshot as he'd made it painfully clear that his life and Bella's would no longer intersect.

Edward had hated that just a bit more, hated that by necessity their final separation had been something of an act, put on and played out carefully so that Victoria would have no doubt.

Only Bella's safety came first and it always had, and it wasn't like he'd made her do anything she didn't want to. It had been her choice, and for that he was glad.

Alice looked a little taken aback, but her eyes were warm and trusting in a way that hurt his chest. "Okay. You can explain later."

Just like that, like his decisions were infallible, and what if he'd gotten one of them killed? Would she be so understanding then?

The wolves emerged around the trees looking downright weird in tank tops and shorts against a backdrop of snow and steel gray skies. It bothered him in a half-concerned way, seeing bare flesh exposed to the cold mountain air.

"Sam," Carlisle said, managing to push away his surprise that they'd come in human form. "Congratulations on a job well done. I trust that none of your pack needs any medical attention?"

Irritation flashed through Sam's thoughts at the conciliatory tone, but he kept his expression calm. "Yeah, we're good," he said. "No injuries."

Carlisle held out one pale hand and after a moment's pause Sam took it gingerly, though he looked a moment away from wrinkling his nose.

"We do appreciate your pack's assistance in this, Sam." Carlisle's voice was easy and deliberately smooth as silk. "Hopefully this has shown all of us how beneficial an alliance like this might be in the future."

To his credit, Sam appeared only slightly grudging. "Yeah, I mean," he started awkwardly, a little more obvious in his discomfort. "I mean, we aren't fighting against each other. We—that's pretty obvious now."

Carlisle nodded, smile bright as if he'd just made a new friend. Edward wasn't going to tell him that wasn't exactly the case: no need to prove his hopes false.

He tried to edge away, scanning the snowy expanse like he was expecting more monsters when the monsters were gone, and therefore was so shocked by what he saw that it took a moment to register.

A single vampire cut an easy swath through the snow, made into slush by the wolves' heat. Edward spun around, followed the trajectory and saw it aiming straight for Leah, who stood human and vulnerable with her gaze cast to the ground.

His sudden movement attracted people's attention. The vampires looked up and some of the wolves did, too, and they were closer than anyone. But compared to vampires, wolves moved as if through water. They weren't going to make it in time.

Edward didn't have to think.

He launched himself at the newborn and got there a second after it had slammed Leah to the ground. Its hands were deathly pale where they wrapped around her neck, a grip so tight they would've been white-knuckled if there had been any blood to disperse, and Leah was too shocked to even begin to fight.

Edward hooked an arm around the newborn's waist and yanked it up and away, tossing it to the ground with a puff of snow like smoke.

It lay there with a distinctly resentful air for just a moment before clambering to its feet, its new aim revenge.

Edward thought about it, and decided that making sure Leah was entirely out of harm's way was much more important than moving himself. He turned to check on her, alarmed by the distinct wheeze to her breath, knelt and put two fingers to her throat. But the wolves were resilient, and Edward was relieved to feel a steady pulse.

He looked up to find himself staring into the newborn's face, red eyes and all strangely beautiful, because for a moment he could only see what Bella would have become if she had stayed with him. She was safe now, that whole nightmarish future no longer hers.

At least there was that, and Edward looked at the newborn and stayed frozen.

Its thoughts were lost in the maelstrom inside Edward's head, but he saw the promise of relief in its bright red eyes. She'd been unattainable and he'd known that from the first but like a stupid child had been unable to resist, and in the process he'd done so much harm, and it had been for nothing.

Because she had made the right decision, of that Edward was well aware. He wanted to be happy for her, he wanted it so much, and that he couldn't seem to muster up the emotion—

He was worse than he'd ever imagined, because even though he loved her, even though he wanted her happiness above all else and he knew she was making the right choice—it still felt like he was being torn apart by the lack of her, and God, it hurt.

Edward had exactly enough time to grab Leah by the shoulder and fling her to the side, and then the newborn was on him.

It was a wild, snarling thing, all crashing teeth and a grip around his shoulders hard as steel, an elbow in his ribs that cracked something and left him gasping. He tried to focus enough to get the upper hand, but there was far too much pressure turning rapidly to pain, and just then cold hands latched around his elbow with brutal precision and twisted hard.

There was the sound and savage pain of breaking bone, and Edward could no longer think about anything other than how badly he wanted to scream.

Dark shapes swam overhead and then coalesced into a black wolf in front of him and more off to the side, and his family whose pale skin blended right into the sky.

Suddenly the newborn had been torn away. It was only then that the pain ratcheted up to unbearable.

The sun glittered off of his skin and the snow, white on white, and the world began to blur. Edward realized he was on the ground: he hadn't even felt himself hit the snow, because the parts of his body that didn't feel like they were on fire were entirely numb.

His vision was going spotted and beginning to fade out, but he saw the black wolf lunge to stand in front of him, growling. Sam was trying to protect Leah, Edward thought hazily. Not him. He was just in the way and should probably move so as not to reap the benefits of somebody's protection when they weren't offering it to him, but his legs might as well have been cut out from under him for all that he could stand.

Edward rolled onto his side, jostling broken bones like lightning beneath his skin. He wanted to scream very badly but there was no air in his lungs, no breath that he could take, and it felt like he was choking.

Somebody was shaking him, hot hands on his shoulders that only made everything hurt more, but the world was already slowing and splintering around him. The cold was seeping in, something living and vital slipping from his grasp, and Edward had the faint sense that it was important he hold on.

He let go anyway, thinking: he'd done his part.

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