The past couple of minutes had passed like knifes, each one stabbed at some unknown part of me, in the region of my former heart. Seeing Bella's lifeless form was devastating, and to know that I had failed utterly was a pain stronger than I had ever known, in either of my lives.
And then when she had stirred, murmuring my name, my pain changed. She was alive – not well, but alive. She was hurt, and that alone sent a chill of remorse echoing through my hollow veins. Her leg was broken, and she was bruised all over; I took extreme care in touching her, and refused to acknowledge the pooling crimson below her, which flowed freely from her head. I knew that if I concentrated on the growing stain just inches away from where I knelt, my self-restraint would be put to the ultimate test, a test far worse than it had already endured this long day. I concentrated on not breathing in the scent, but I knew my eyes were furious with the desire.
And there was the most recent pain, which had struck when Bella had awoken after what felt like far too long, and complained that her hand was on fire.
I felt a swelling, uncontrollable fury rise within me at the site of the wound on her hand. It too was bleeding, but I somehow saw past that; the hole was distinctly shaped like a dangerous set of teeth. And the fire in her veins now was causing her to cry out in pain as his venom slowly blossomed throughout her system.
Carlisle had pleaded with me; if it wasn't done soon, it would be too late, and my efforts to keep her alive - human alive - would have been wasted. Alice's vision had come true, but it was blaringly different than I had imagined it; she'd seen me drawing out the venom. I'd misinterpreted it, and now faced the consequences of my misunderstanding.
I couldn't do it.
I knew I should – I must – if she were to remain this way, human. But could I trust myself to stop once her blood was clean? Could I really put myself so close to my greatest temptation and expect my self-restraint not to be tarnished because of it? One taste was all it would take. I knew that one taste would be pivotal; if I were truly as strong as I wanted to believe, I could stop when I had completed my mission.
But I wasn't that strong, and the memories of all the different ways I'd planned to kill her on that very first day made me painfully aware of that.
I wanted to protect her, from danger and from this lifestyle, but what happened when saving her from one meant sacrificing the other? Could I put her in danger to keep her human?
I could, but would I?
Carlisle's thoughts begged with me to do the right thing. You have to do it now or it will never work, and the venom will begin to creep through her blood system. Please, Edward, think: if Bella is to remain human, this is the only way. I'm busy with her other injuries or I would do it; Alice can resist the smell but one taste will send her over the edge.
And Alice's soprano thoughts tinkled, Perhaps it's better this way. I did see it. . .
I didn't snarl at her as I wanted, but instead seized Bella's hand gently and raised the wound to my lips, making up my mind and swearing to myself that I was strong enough. . . Pleading with myself to listen to common sense. I closed my eyes, and took a deep, steadying breath.
The breath was enough to fill my head with her scent – so much stronger, so potent now that it was exposed and not hidden by her skin – and my senses threatened to gain control. I hadn't really tasted it yet, but already my feral instincts were almost overpowering; her blood was so sweet, so warm, so rich. . . it would be impossible to stop. Impossible. I would kill her, and I only realized that too late. . .
One long, deep draw and there was a bitter, toxic taste on my tongue; James' venom was almost out now, but before I could get it all the taste of it attacked my senses. It masked the taste of Bella's blood completely, and I no longer worried about not stopping; I was worried about drawing out every last drop of poison so I could stop and clear the vile taste from my tongue. I took one more long siphon from her wound, and tasted the too-delicious clean blood before the metallic, somehow less-bitter taste of the drugs Carlisle had given her. My hands coaxed her hand away from my lips, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Carlisle took her hand and began to wrap the wound; I opened my eyes briefly to see that he had already braced her leg and stopped the flow of blood from her skull.
My shoulders slumped from the exhaustion my restraint had caused me; I closed my eyes and concentrated on not breathing again; her wounds were now sealed, but the pool of blood remained on the floor, taunting me. Alice patted me gently on the shoulder, the gesture so light that I barely felt it. I was still faintly annoyed at her last thought, and didn't look up at her.
"Edward," Bella murmured, her voice groggy and dull and muddled. My eyes flickered open.
"He's right here, Bella." Carlisle continued to tend to her injuries, and I sidled a little closer to her.
"Stay, Edward, stay with me. . ." Her voice betrayed her own fatigue, and I smiled dimly. Her eyes remained closed.
"I will." I cursed mentally when my voice came out tense and vaguely exultant.
She sighed, and I found myself praising the small sound that escaped past her lips. She was alive. Not well, but alive. That was all I needed; to know that I hadn't failed, that all our efforts had worked out to our advantage. And to know that Bella was still human, and by my hand. I knew she'd be annoyed to find out that I'd thwarted her first – and hopefully last – chance to become one of us, but as long as her cheeks flushed with anger when it happened, I would be satisfied. For the time being I contented myself with reveling in her safety, and being near her. The past several days had been too long. I had driven myself sick with worry, and the others to the point of exhaustion with my anxiety. It was over now, and although there were a few hurdles left – the healing process Bella now faced, and explaining everything to Chief Swan, with me at her side – I, as well as the rest of my family, was floating with relief.
After telling Carlisle her blood was clean and deciding to move Bella – she complained about the smell of the gasoline Jasper, Alice, and Emmett had used – I lifted her into my arms, carefully avoiding her injuries -- her leg was in a makeshift brace until we could reach a hospital, and her skull was surely tender from the long gash there – and carried her towards the car.
"Sleep now, Bella," were the last words I murmured before her eyes drifted closed and she fell towards unconsciousness.
Author's Note:
Hello, readers! If you're reading this it's safe to assume you read the story (or at least I hope that's the case)
and I'd like to thank you for doing so!
I'd also like to explain that I realize this specific plot has already been hashed out here on several times, and although everyone has done an excellent job of writing their idea of how things happened, I felt compelled to do the same, no matter how lame, redundant, or poorly planned it came out.
Besides, the chance to get behind Edward's eyes for a few short chapters is irrestible.
Wink wink.
Again, thanks for reading, and please leave a comment. I thrive on feedback, be it positive or not.
Sometimes criticism gives me that warm fuzzy feeling where warm fuzzy comments do not.
Help me better myself and my writing, and be not afraid of what you need to say.
Cheers, fellow fanpires.
AGK
