iii. sleep, sweetheart

She always knew it was going to be bad. Horrible, a living nightmare. But she also knew that thinking about it a lot was only going to make her feel terrified rather than do any good. But perhaps she could have prepared herself for it better. Perhaps not.

At first they planned to leave Forks and take Bella somewhere secluded and far from any other people before going through with it, but she got restless and was going so crazy from the fear and anticipation she wanted to get it over with. So when Jasper comes home and finds Bella thrashing wildly on the carpet with Edward holding her in place across his lap and Alice clutching her hand, his voice is heard sounding deep and grave as he comes close and immediately feels it - all of it.

"Oh my God." He is standing in the doorway of Edward's room, looking pityingly over at where she and the others are on the floor, and she is only vaguely aware of hearing his voice speaking; he sounds far, far away. "I thought you weren't going to yet."

Edward looks up at him, not even bothering to explain now. "Jasper?" he says in a pleading, desperate tone. "Please. . ."

"You know I can only do so much to help physical pain like that," he says regretfully, and Bella loses the rest of what they all say to the roaring in her head, but it seems that for a while she is not so aware of the pain, desensitized to it. For just a while. And then it is unbearable again, every part of her feeling like it's on fire, the sweat running endlessly. She is feverish and half-delirious, forgetting where she is and not understanding what's happening anymore.

Then she thinks it's day. Then she thinks it's night. Then she thinks she can tell it's still night when it shouldn't still be - where is the sun? Are there curtains over the windows? How much longer does she have left before it's over? Time seems to be disappearing entirely. Maybe in a way, it is.

Edward is there, she realizes in this moment when she can think again - probably always has been, though she wasn't always aware of it. He is saying something in her ear, attempting to soothe her, but the words are just whispers of the air, nothing she understands right now. This is how it is for what seems like another ten days rather than just a few; she writhes and yells out wordlessly and screams piercingly without even hearing it with her own ears and he is with her every moment feeling it all with her, hating that there's nothing more he can do than just be there. Then at some times she doesn't want anyone near her. She throws anyone off of her who tries to touch her - even him. This disturbs him so much that Jasper starts looking at him sadly as much as he looks at her that way, and as Edward sits helplessly watching her shriek and squirm and thrash on the floor like a fish out of water dying, Jasper puts a hand on his shoulder at one point and does his best to make it more bearable for him, too.

Bella makes her fingertips bleed digging them into the floor. She does not even notice it when her nails start making deep, effortless grooves in it and there is no longer any bleeding. Edward tries to come to her again, but everything scares her right now. She does not remember who he is. She hates him. He is the one who did this to her. As she lies back on the floor taking huge, rasping breaths with all of her skin glistening with sweat, he reaches for her face and she lunges for him viciously, a fierce and wild growl escaping her that sounds much too loud for a sound coming out of her, something strange and terrifying. Before she strikes him he has both of her wrists and pins her arms down on the floor, trying to make her settle down by muttering calm, quiet words.

"Bella, it's alright," he says, his voice sounding torn in two and barely audible. "Listen to me, Bella. I'm right here with you and you're going to be fine in just a while. I think the worst of it is almost over. It's almost over . . ."

She struggles out of his grasp and rolls over, curling up into a ball with a low moan. He sinks completely into a sitting position and turns away from Bella, unable to watch anymore right now, putting his arm over his face as he leans his head down and letting out a great exhaling sigh.

He thinks of what she said about how he is the only thing stopping her from growing old, and how it terrified him but he didn't say anything. It is still not a choice she made for the right reasons. This is all still just her trying to make everyone else happy.

Why? Why didn't he lie and tell her she was right, that he would be okay even if he lost her? Why didn't he stop her? Why did he ever take her to the meadow that day to show her the reason monsters like him have to hide from the sunlight and let everything start even after he knew what Alice had seen? Why did he pursue her when he knew he shouldn't have?

Why didn't he just let her die that day Tyler's truck was supposed to slide right into her? He never did give her an answer to that. And thinking of the answer now, the reason he thought he had any right, he hates himself.

Finally, near the end of the third day, Alice suddenly looks alertly toward Bella, knowing: it's here, it's nearly done. Edward is holding her hand even though she does not seem to feel it or see him sitting by her as she lies still now, trembling and still gasping every breath. He can still hear her heart beating steadily - the most important sound in his world, he told her. But then suddenly it starts to hammer fast and hard, as if raging and fighting against the end with a few last determined beats.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump.

...Thump.

Then nothing, and Edward stops breathing.

Alice has come to kneel at her side along with Edward now, and everyone else is standing near, closely watching. It is immediately easy to tell when the change is done; the color drains from her skin all over, in just a second, as if the lighting around her just changed and made it appear to be a different tint. Slowly, she opens her eyes, and Edward is suddenly terrified beyond speech or movement as the firey red irises stare up at him.

Esme drops to the floor by her as well now, stroking her face with her hand. "Bella?" she says softly. "How do you feel, honey?"

Edward squeezes her hand, and his voice comes out sounding weak. "Please say something."

Her eyes roll back away from being pointed at Esme to looking at him, and something in them seems to become more focused and calm. She whispers, "Edward."

He sighs heavily. He pulls her up into a sitting position, holding her against his chest. She closes her eyes again and says quietly, "I feel . . . so tired. . ."

But there will be no sleep. This is it. She cannot sleep ever again.