a/n: i tried really, really, really hard to be in-character. stop lurking and review? thanks to maddie for beta-ing this.

{chapter two: story time}

The next morning brought out a slew of problems. There was the metaphorical: a knot twisting its way through Bella's stomach and weaseling into her vital organs. And the physical: a vertebrae with a hairline fracture. The latter was discovered when Carlisle was doing his standard, twice-daily, examination. Along with the fracture in her spine, there were several minor injuries: two more cracked ribs and a hipbone that was in serious danger of snapping outright. She barely noticed the broken ribs anymore; just grouped it in with standard, everyday pain.

It was close to ten when Bella awoke. For the first time in ages, she had to take care of herself. Rosalie was still nowhere to be seen (as evidenced by the invisible worry lines on Esme's striking face) and Emmett had dashed off after her sometime in the late-late night or early-early morning. The Cullen household was smaller than ever and the strain of being without two of its members was evident with everyone. When one person - or, in this case, two - was away, it was as if a large hunk was missing from their hearts. Bella felt it too and she was not particularly close with Rosalie, nor was she half as close with the goofy vampire, Emmett, as she wished.

After her medical exam, Bella brushed her teeth mechanically, spitting out the minty toothpaste when her counting reached one-twenty. She finally took a shower, agonizingly long and skin-tinglingly hot, and washed her hair with some apple-scented shampoo that was probably ridiculously expensive. She even conditioned, with something from a blue bottle that was probably Rosalie's or Alice's.

She twisted the tap slowly. If possible, she'd would've let her shower go on and on forever. She promised Edward and Jacob, her two men, the loves of her life, the only guys for her, that she would think about. The truth? From the minute she'd placed her head on Edward's rock-hard chest and drifted into sleep, her mind had been closed down. She slept dreamlessly. It was wonderful, peaceful. She planned on doing some serious thinking in the shower, but her eyelids flickered shut and she started to hum a couple keys of an old musical. The inevitable abortion of her unborn child, who she was planning on naming Edward-Jacob, was shoved into the furthest crevice of her mind.

Toes first, Bella stepped out of the shower. The gilded windows were covered in condensation. Even the Cullens' bathroom was beautiful. She was, of course, using Alice's bathroom. Emmett, Edward, and Jasper shared one. As did Carlisle and Esme. Alice and Rosalie had demanded separate bathrooms and who were the infinitely wealthy Cullens to refuse?

From the heated towel rack, she produced a white terry cloth. The warm fabric tickled her skin as she towel-dried every inch of her skin. Another wave of regret and longing swept over her when she reached the prominent bump between her hips. She shook her head and prayed the thought would fall out from her ears, nose, or mouth. It didn't. She couldn't stop thinking how, in hours, probably, the life inside her would be gone.

And, yet, she knew the argument Jake and Edward would give in rebuttal: It's killing you. And if you die, we die. She always knew there was no way Edward was going to change her - he'd bite that stupid baby out of her rather than imprison her in the penitentiary of vamprisim he was sentenced to - for eternity.

There was no way Bella could live without them. No way. Even with her beautiful baby boy.

Her favourite Forks High sweatpants for the Phys. Ed. class she hated slipped on with some difficulty. They went easily over shins, knees, thighs. The tugging commenced when she reached her baby bump - she pulled and pulled and pulled, but they still exposed enough of her underwear to be considered undecent. She considered changing. Alice had filled half of Edward's walk-in closet with beautiful, European-designed maternity wear: hippie dresses and crisp blouses and tweed blazers and pencil skirts. They were gorgeous - and uncomfortable as hell.

Rather than change into one of Alice's pre-selected outfits, she pulled a simple ribbed tank top over the her embarrassingly small bra. On top of that, she pulled on a navy zip-up - which she zipped all the way up her pale-as-snow neck.

A glance in the mirror told her (with a sneer) that she was no where near as gorgeous as Alice and not half as fashionable as Alice.

She turned away and tried to be stealthy exiting the bathroom. Of course, she tripped on one of her enemies: a flat surface. Oof. Bella fell square on her arse. Pushing herself up with her palms, she then pressed them against her enlarged stomach. Waited a beat. Nothing. Not the familiar pounding, kicking, or even the faint screaming she swore she heard on occasion was coming from inside her.

"Carlisle!" she hollered hoarsely, hoping among hopes that there was a God and that God could kindly tap the handsome doctor on the shoulder. "Edward! Someone!"

She barely heard their feet against the floorboards before hands were brushing her shoulders, inquiries like "Are you okay?" are coming out of perfect mouths, and the compassion and kindness of vampires nearly overwhelmed her.

"Bella," his melodic voice intoned. She could then identify that the icy hand which rested on her collarbone was Edward's. His parents - for all intents and purposes - stood back. "You must tell me what's wrong before Carlisle - any of us - can help you. Can you do that, please?"

Dizzily (thanks to his voice, his touch, his scent, his face, his love) she nodded. "My baby boy." Pressing her hand against the life inside of her, her chest started to heave and fall quickly with the promise of tears. "I can't feel him anymore."

She was swept up into someone's arms and carried to Carlisle's exam room. This time, she barely felt the hands prodding and poking. Coal-black eyes on Snow White's soft skin. A combination of the soft pressure being applied to her abdomen and the soft pillow behind her back attempting to heal her broken vertebrae lulled her to sleep. This time, she pulled away from Edward's grip that would bring any NFL footballer to hot, salty tears. This time, this time, this time. Bitterly, in the sage moments between sleep, Bella mused how much she hated that phrase. 'This time.' Full of regret and repenting and stupid concepts they teach in Catholic churches.

For her, life was all about the past (last time) and the future (next time). Renee was always the one who spoke of 'living in the now.' Bella was the practical fortysomething trapped in the slim body of a teenager. She was the one who was planning ahead and thinking of how the future could improve from the past. They balanced each other out well and Bella felt a sharp pang of longing strike through her chest.

"Your examination is complete, Miss Swan," Carlisle pronounced with a definite snap of yucky rubber gloves. Bella cringed - one of her most-hated sounds in the world. Carlisle wore a smirk, but the joke was lost on her.

"What's wrong with him?" Brown eyes widened. "My baby," she cooed softly. Edward slipped his hand back into her own (where it belonged...)

Carlisle smiled toothlessly. "Oh, nothing. It's just standard for a woman so...far along in her pregnancy."

"There's..." A smile is shared from husband to wife, father to mother, and Esme smoothed down her flat-ironed chestnut-coloured bob with a flat palm. Encouraged, she continued: "Something we were meaning to ask you, Bella, love."

"It's about him, isn't it?" She gestured to her ever-expanding belly. "And killing him."

Esme's golden eyes closed pointedly. The Cullens only blinked in their own home to make some kind of a statement. "Yes. But, please, do try to think of it as saving a life - many - and not as ending one."

"I know that," the young girl admitted. Curled up on the exam table, a blanket wrapped tightly around her shaking shoulders, she looked far less than her almost nineteen years. "I do, but...it's so hard."

Esme's lips curled up into the saddest smile Bella'd ever seen. She looked so human in that moment. The slim vampire slid closer to Bella until she, too, was sitting on the table, her bottom flat on the butcher's paper used. She wrapped an arm - cold and hard - around the brunette.

"Let me tell you a story."

And she did.

"It starts off with a girl who only longed to fulfill her parents' wishes. She never stepped out of line, spoke out of turn; she would have none of that. She did what she was told and, for that, she was considered to be a good girl. While the good girl grew up, her dreams never changed. She wanted to be married to a kind soul," there was a furtive glance in Carlisle's direction at this time, "and become a mother. When the girl was old enough to leave home, she found the man of her dreams. It seemed that everything was falling into place.

"But really, it was falling apart. She quickly became pregnant: a honeymoon baby. She imagined him - her son, she never pictured a daughter - with the soul-searching eyes of her husband and his soft curls and his easy smile and his everything. She could - she would - be a great mother. Everyone thought so. Even if her husband was less than a great father - he hurt the girl in many more ways than the obvious. Until the day that her son went away.

"It had been a violent pregnancy at first. Her early days were filled with morning sickness and much pain. As her due date grew closer, the pain only grew exponentially. When her son was born, he was her double in everything. She watched her son grow up and tried to shield him from his father's outbursts. She tried her best to be the mother she was destined to be. But his fate - her son's and her own - was already sealed. He died some years later. Trying again seemed stupid. Never would she love anyone as much as did her son."

If vampires could cry, Esme would've drowned in her tears at that moment. Carlisle placed a loving hand on her shoulder and Edward pursed his lips, apologetically, from where he stood by his own wife.

"Death had been her son's escape. Maybe it would work for her, too? So the foolish, silly woman jumped. Off a cliff. And that was when her life started anew."

Esme smiled contently, but even Bella - who was no people-reader - could tell it was a farce. "The End."

"I'll do it."

"It will be better in the long-run, Bella." Carlisle pulled on a new set of latex gloves.

The pregnant young woman gritted her teeth and gripped Esme's forearm for support. Edward's hand was still locked in her own. "Please, let me do this alone," she begged. It was bad enough she had to witness her son be murdered - she didn't want Edward to see it, too.

"No, Bella." His hold on her didn't waver. "Let me stay and we'll get through this together. You and I, forever and a day."

Her chocolate brown eyes welled up and Carlisle did the speaking for her: "Edward."

Esme, the only one who truly understood, looked at her foster son. "It's something she must do on her own."

So he left.