A.N: Thanatos is a child of the goddess Nyx and her consort, Erebus. Thanatos pretty much means, Death.

Thanatos

I live in fear,
when the shadows reappear,
unleashing all their might.
I'd never thought,
I'd face the demons all it stop!
Haunted…hunted….
-"Haunted", Stream of Passion

Bella
I felt as if something was constricting my throat and binding me to the bed when I finally opened my eyes. The slit through my lids only exposed the immaculately white sheets stretched from my breast to my toes. The color matched the new door now resting as the front of this quiet room as a wall to the insanity probably swirling through the rest of the castle without a proper queen.

I inhaled and automatically smelt Edward's clean scent. The breath seemed to bring reality back to me; I heard the rattling of a cart down the hallway, the beep of steady machines next door, the obnoxious giggling of girls underneath the window…. Glancing down, I found Edward's hand gripping mine and I sobbed mentally with sadness for not even feeling it. I yearned to clench his fingers reassuringly - to tell him I was fine, but I could not move. This feeling went beyond lethargy..

"Are you awake, love?" Edward softly inquired, his breath fanning across my face. My eyes lowered in peace and pleasure, enjoying the gentle smell of him like a summer breeze. I opened my mouth to speak, but it only croaked in protest. I smiled dizzily at him.

I think I'm awake, at least, I informed him through our mind-to-mind contact. Or is this heaven?

He smiled sadly, his hands grasping my face. No, Bella, my love, you're alive. His emerald-tinged ocher eyes were alert and full of fear, although his voice was smooth - practiced. "Is there any pain?"

I wished to stroke his cheek, to alleviate the emotions flickering wildly across his face like firelight, but my hand felt detached from my body - there was no way my wish would ever be acknowledged.

I'm not in pain, I assured him. His hand slid through mine, lacing our fingers together. I focused all my energy into squeezing his hand back, though my body rejected the idea. My finger twitched.

Can you speak? he questioned hesitantly, not wanting to run down my throat with questions. He picked at the most unimportant, like a child grimly eating vegetables with the smell of a fresh baked pie wafting into his nostrils.

No - I'm still…

"Under exertion," he hissed. His eyes widened slightly, apologetically, like he had spat an expletive or belched. "I begged you to cut back on the power you've been putting forth lately. But, as usual, you never heed what I have to say - why now?"

Edward, I chided mentally. Please - it's not that.

His expression softened a tad, apology dripping in his eyes like honey, but he remained zealous about my powers. You've been talking to Jasper lately, he accused. Trying to bring back Alice again.

I widened my eyes, hoping that it gave the same affect as shaking my head.

Then explain to me why you blacked out like that Bella? The only time I've ever heard you scream like that…, he drifted off, his mind softening around the edges. He decided to let this go - he couldn't, in his ever-sympathetic conscience, guilt me while I lay on my death bed. I just worry about you, Bella, my star, my meteor. I feel guilty - I ignored your complaints about frequent headaches. I believed them just to be aggravation from work….

I mentally tried to send him the feeling every kiss to my forehead he ever bestowed upon me created. His soft smile told me I was a success. There is no way to tell that this would happen. Don't feel guilty. I mentally sighed into his head. Tell me what has happened? I only remember collapsing and waking up here.

You don't remember waking up before? Don't remember screaming? Edward asked incredulously, his face darkening. He slowly slipped memories of what had happened into my head and I analyzed them carefully. Whatever happened to me seemed to be a mystery.

Do you not remember anything? he pressed, his face worried.

I ran through my own memory bank and only recalled the familiar sound of nails on a chalkboard, the scream of a female voice, which - I decided in a snap decision - could be likened to one of my headaches escalating. Keeping that single memory to myself, I met Edward's eyes carefully.

No. I remember nothing.

ELECTRIC SHOCK ELECTRIC SHOCK ELECTRIC

Jasper
I felt as if my ears were bleeding, my head was exploding, and my body was going to disintegrate into the ground. I watched in anguish as paintings and shelves crumpled to the carpeted floor because of the terribly vibrating walls. I considered knocking on the door but she probably wouldn't hear my frantic demands for her to turn down her stupid music. Nor will I barge into her room - it's improper as well as potentially devastating if she is undressed.

I attempted to drown out her music by pulling five pillows over my head, but my ears, exponentially better than a human's, could hear it way clearer than an amplified bell. I sighed, slightly perturbed by the fact I couldn't even hear the sound of resignation, and tried to clean up the glass from a painting that had fallen.

Morning was beginning to dawn, I realized tightly - nearly five hours of blindingly loud screams coming from her damn room. She claimed it to be artistic expression - she claimed it to be music. The only thing melodic about the disaster coming from her speakers is the pounding in my head that somehow is akin to the earth shattering bass woven underneath feral growls. I put a hand to my aching head as if to compress the pounding and then went back to brushing the shards of glass into my other hand.

Cora swept into my room without any regard for the shut door. She turned on her neon green stiletto heels and lowered the music before giving me a bright smile. "Good morning."

I grunted rudely in response, which I must confess, is more than she deserved. With all the shards swept up, I dumped them into the trash barrel, brushing past her coldly. She didn't notice my anger because the dent in her cheek didn't alleviate even the smallest from her gleeful smile.

"I'm guessing you're not a morning person," she said, sweeping her short hair into a bun on her head. "Either way, I'm planning to go to the garden today - seeing as you're my protection, I'm going to assume you're bound to come with me."

I quickly glared at her as if she was insane before quickly glancing away, trying not to show her my obvious agitation. Instead, she took a seat on my bed, curling her legs up to her chin, which wasn't proper considering her extremely short skirt. She rested her face into the crevice between her knees and locked her arms around her legs, the soft sound of static from her forearm against her thick black tights the only noise in the room. She smiled angelically as if she hadn't just tortured me with her suicide anthems for hours straight before imperiously claiming my place as her own.

"I'm going to also guess from that snarl on your face, you're pissed off at me," she stated, claret eyes wildly energetic. "And I'm going to assume it's because my music was too loud."

"Gee," I grumbled, pushing the shelf hanger nail back into the wall. I gently balanced the shelves back onto the wall and sighed. Looking back at the girl sitting on my bed, I noticed now how at peace she was. Not a bit of remorse flowed through her - not even a sarcastic apology. In fact, she seemed rather pleased to have me pissed off. Her feral pride lit up her feline face with a bronze glow.

"So, are we just going to sit here and waste space and air, or are we going to get going?" she demanded, pouting.

"To tell the truth Cora, I could give a fuck where you go. Get lost," I scowled in her general direction as I placed Alice's photo back onto the shelf. I winced when I realized a long scar cut across the glass, breaking Alice's beauteous face in half.

"Jasper," Cora said. I hardly noticed she came up behind me until she had placed her hand on my shoulder. I flinched away from her touch and watched how her smile dimmed in wattage. "We really should get going."

"Going where?" I demanded the girl angrily. "I have no plans."

"Well I actually do," she whispered at me, squeezing my shoulder before dropping her hand. "I signed up for some classes here, especially the ones for helping my thirst," she said, clamping her hands around her throat with a giggle. "I have to take care of the flowers and I'd love to check up on Bella."

I glared at her.

"Look, you can glare at me all you want. In fact, hate me. Grumble curses, slam me with the few friends you have. I don't care, but let's just get going, please?" Noticing how my body didn't tense, nor did I move, Cora sighed. "I'll make a deal. I'll only listen to my music on really low and I'll clean up your room." She nodded towards the corner of my room, where the windows were. "There's still some glass."

No bubbled on my lips, but I knew she would eventually threaten me by telling Edward or Carlisle, who I know would side with her. Instead, I glowered at her until I reached my closet. I stripped off my shirt and replaced it quickly before turning to meet my charge.

"Where to first?"

"The garden," she peeped and danced to the out of my bedroom, slamming the door behind us. I watched her skip down the hallway, and she turned just once to appraise me as I stalked behind her. Cora smiled elegantly.

"Hurry up," she said, before continuing to the garden. I however, wasn't in any rush. I leisurely followed behind her, an air of anger floating around me. As soon as the fresh air flowed around me, I felt a bit relaxed. The Italian summer breeze ruffled my hair gently, the smell of flowers on it.

I watch Cora somehow run to each exhibit with her mini skirt, wondering how the small leather fabric didn't constrict her into one position. For a moment, she was just a pretty face; even her feral attitude was muted to a more gentler side. She looked like a woman, but not in the same context. Instead of a lioness, she seemed more like a bird, a gentle sparrow.

She pushed back her curly red hair from her eyes and glanced up at me, her smile waxing away like a moon. Sighing, she called me over with just a slight twist of her head. When I disagreed with her, she petulantly crossed her arms over her chest, jutting out her hip and tapping her foot in such an Alice fashion, I found myself reluctantly trotting over to where she stood. It was then, I realized, that I have become nothing more than a tool of Cora's will.

She didn't speak as she tended the flowers - pulling out weeds, plucking off dead leaves. It was the tranquil air that convinced me that it would be alright to go about my duties to the garden as usual, before Cora had become my charge. I fell in step with her and we somehow started a partnership. As I rid the garden of weeds, she followed behind me, tugging at browned leaves. Our unspoken truce seemed loud in my ears, palpitating almost like a pulse.

Birds twittered overhead as the sun rose high in the sky - afternoon, I calculated as I untangled the watering hose. When I looked up from the task, Cora was gone.

Panic froze me in my spot; if I lost her, there would certainly be hell to pay. However, as quickly as the panic seized me, it was alleviated. I found her kneeling at the base of a proud oak, towards the end of the garden. I jogged over to where she was, opening my mouth to scold her. I quickly closed it when I noticed the expression on her face.

Cupped in her hand was a dead butterfly. She showed me her find with all the excitement of a boy who had found out his parents had died - lest to say, she did not look pleased. Her brows furrowed and she sighed.

"Do you know how insignificant this life is?" she asked softly, looking up at me from underneath her eyelashes. "How little, individually of course, our lives or deaths affect the grand scheme of things?"

"Yes, I am aware," I said dully, sitting down besides her. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

She leaned against the tree, nudging the butterfly with her fingernail. "This insect has died," she pointed out matter-of-factly. "How does that affect us? Immediately, not in any way. Not physically of course.

"However, mentally, we will always know that this butterfly has passed away," she told me. "Perhaps, even one day, you'll make a metaphor out of it." She shrugged. "But we know. Now, if I did not find this butterfly, we would not have known.

"That's how it is with everything. All over the world, many millions of things are dying." Swallowing, she murmured, "Billions. Humans, animals, plants, aspirations, thoughts, love…." Inhaling, she gazed at me with her claret eyes. "But things are also living, are being born. And for some stupid reason, God put me on this earth to discern which things should continue to live, and which things should die."

I watched as the butterfly twitched back to life. For a moment, I swore it was looking directly at Cora, thanking her, before floating off into the air. It's flight routed through her hair, around her shoulders, before taking off to join the rest of the flying bugs in the sky.

"So what died in it's place?" I asked.

Cora's eyes weren't on mine; she was staring at the tree that had faded, the leaves turning a crusted brown and falling all around us like rain. Then, looking at me with an expression I could decipher, she said, "Me."

ELECTRIC SHOCK ELECTRIC SHOCK ELECTRIC

I still can't fathom how Cora didn't figure out from her oddities that she isn't just a normal vampire. She had passed out in my arms, compelling me to bring her to Carlisle. He explained that it was natural for mixed breeds to sleep - she was just as much as werewolf as vampire and siren.

I watched her sleep for a few moments, mystified by it's magic. Her face was smoothed over, and she looked simply astonishingly beautiful. Her arched brows were less dramatically drawn on her face - they were quivering softly as she sighed. The tips of her lips parted down, and her long limbs, so thin and ethereal, were sprawled out from under her duvet. Very quietly, she murmured don't leave, over and over again.

It was then that I had enough.

My body and mind felt like traitors, carrying the empty shell of a heart - the only baggage on my limbs. I raked my hand through my hair and walked down the spiraled path to the garden, gazing around. I knew that this whimsical request would only cause pain - the nighttime caused such a severe longing in my heart that it didn't matter what I chose to do anyway.

I could pretend that Alice was besides me; sometimes, I could close my eyes and recall the feel of her hand in mine, always so dainty and warmer than the sun. It was always those touches that reassured my humanity. Sometimes, I felt as if my heart could beat again. When I close my eyes, I can recall her laugh, so similar to the breeze blowing through the wind chimes I had placed around the garden for the soul fact it reminded me of her. The orchids I had woven into each exhibit smelled like Alice, filled me with memories.

I need this garden, I realized, laying on my back, eyes closed. I tried to recall the exact shade of ocher in her eyes. With frustration, I realized in these past years, I have forgotten the feel of her slender waist clasped between my palms, like holding the Holy Grail. I have forgotten what she said when she rolled over in my arms, the dawn squiggling over her body, causing sparkles.

Rain fell overhead. Slow at first, dampening my hair, but then fell in a rush, like the tears I wanted to streak down my face. I was lost in the cliché, the complete and utter ridiculousness of the moment, before deciding that it was Alice's tears sweeping over my face, washing into the venom streaking down my eyes and burning in my mouth like fire. I miss the taste of salty tears. The water seemed like nothing on my tongue, but weights.

I was comforted by the fact Alice was still very much apart of my despair as I am hers, but then choked myself on venom, on water, because she's in heaven and in pain. I chided myself for being so self-centered. Well, she was so self-centered for dying!

It wasn't her fault - she didn't choose, I reminded myself for the millionth time. I bowed to the wind of my conviction so easily it was not surprising that I didn't realize I was drowning in it.

I sat up and laughed callously at myself. I likened my rising to that of some Dracula movie. Chuckling, I hoped to turn into a bat - fly away undetected into the night. Fly all the way to heaven….

My feet dragged me over to the dead tree by their own accord. Instantaneously, my heart scolded me for remembering the weight of Cora's body pressed against mine as I carried her back to her room. My body screamed back - it has it's needs. She satisfied them. My mind explained that my body is emotionless and hasn't been touched in years. It needs physical interaction. Maybe even an embrace. It needs to feel like it's alive. My mind continued on to say that although my body is a dickbag, my heart will never forget Alice. I still love her, even if my body is grasping for something else. It's shallow.

I pushed that to the corner of my brain, dragging my nails down the bark to chip it. M.A.B.C and J.W.H eternally, I wrote. I ran my fingers over the inscription, feeling it brand into my fingertips, feeling the each letter being carved onto the surface of my heart.

"Tough night," a soft voice chirped the observation. I glanced up and found Esme by my side, her hand on my shoulders. I watched as she casually ran her fingertips down the carving. I wondered if it branded her too - marked her, entwined her spirit forever with Alice's like I had just felt. The light in her eyes didn't suggest it.

"Extremely," I finally choked out. Esme's soft hand caressed the mid of my back, rubbing circles into it.

"I think of her too, Jasper," she finally said. "Alice is a daughter to me, and a good friend. I loved her, in a different way than you, but just as strongly. There isn't a day where I don't pray she's happy."

I noticed she used the present tense. It made my body quiver as if Alice's hand rested on my other shoulder. I looked at Esme's face and saw ghosts.

"We're worried," she said, but then stopped. "I'm worried. I think that you protecting Cora isn't…something you're ready for. I'm not saying you can't function - I'm not saying you're crazy. I'm just not sure that you're ready to have a female, especially one like Cora, forced upon you."

"If you think that manipulative female," I grumbled, instantly getting an image of her sleeping peacefully in her room, "is going to hurt me, you've got it wrong."

"No," Esme said, looking strangely at me. "I think that manipulative female is going to make you hurt yourself. I'm not stopping you from moving on," she said, and her words rattled me, "but I am going to say that false hopes are just the same as drugs. They can shield the pain, make you forget, and will trash you in the end."

I shook my head at her. "Since when have you become a psychic?"

"Call it a mother's intuition," she said, stretching as she stood. "Come on Jasper; let's get you inside. It's pouring cats and dogs."