Duuuuuuuuude. I just finished this. It's about 2am and my mother has come down here twice to look at me and say "Are you still up?"

(What am I supposed to say? "Oh no, it's an optical illusion"?)

Anyway I decided I HAD to stay up and do this because 1) I was excited to write and 2) I want to time the release of this just right, you know with time differences & I don't want to release it while most of you guise are still asleep.

Soooo some Spanish Influenza type things going on here. I had to research all the secondary infections and how to combat them, and all sorts of random cures they used during this pandemic.

I know it's not completely realistic though, the fact that the patients are getting so sick so fast, but I think this story stopped being realistic when the central character celebrated her 146th birthday.

Anyway, so I didn't write a note at the end cuz that would totally ruin the effect of the cliffhanger.

Don't scroll down& read it you harlot, you'll ruin it for yourself!

So thank you thank you thank you for all the favouriting people have done of me & my story, it means a lot. I'd love it if you could continue, and please leave a review :)

Next chapter coming soon I promise,

xOnlyLoveIsForeverxx


Save Him

Most things about this portion of my life have been permanently engrained in my memory. Some things I remember because of the happiness they brought me – for example, the joyful days spent in our meadow. However, other things I remember because of the sorrow that came with them – such as the few weeks after Edward Senior's death.

There was, of course, the funeral. I wore a dark veil, through which my face was barely visible. This was not to shield me from the sun – the weather was suitably dreary – no, it was simply to hide my face. I didn't want anyone to see that, throughout the entire day, I could not shed a tear.

Tears – they had begun to mean so much. I watched the tears that filled Edward's eyes that day, the tears he blinked away. I recall the tears Mrs. Masen shed the night her husband had died, the tears that had stained Edward's shirt as he held her – tears of his own falling silently down his face. And I remember the tear that had fallen onto her beautiful engagement ring, the day she decided to take it off.

Each tear that fell from these two sets of stunning green eyes symbolized a different type of loss – whether it was the loss of a father, the loss of a husband, the loss of a perfect family or the loss of true love. I saw that tears were a way of taking the emotions from inside and forcing them out to be dealt with and moved on from. It was only natural to have emotional become physical, uncontrollable become controlled. I supposed that proved once more that my existence was not natural.

Soon, I decided to make use of my unnatural abilities. The hospital was so overrun with patients, and the doctors were risking their lives just trying to assist the growing numbers of the ill. With my immunity to the disease and my ability to work very long hours, I decided it would make sense to assist. I'd become qualified as a nurse a century back, and the work wasn't particularly complicated. Applying cold packs, dealing out aspirin and salicin; it was all in a day's work. Or rather, a night's work, as Carlisle and I were among the few that worked the night shift. We had to pretend to be weary, though, and go home each morning. Though frustrating, this meant I could still spend my days with the Masens, helping them and doing whatever it was they needed. Sometimes I went out to buy food because Elizabeth didn't want to leave the house, and sometimes I simply sat with Edward on the porch, silently sharing his pain.

One day, I didn't do anything for them. When I visited in the morning, Mrs. Masen said she would just have a quiet day alone, if I didn't mind. When I leaned out from my window at dusk, Edward never came to greet me. This disappointed me, but I wasn't worried – sometimes he would stay with his mother and keep her company alone. I gathered it was one of those days, so I closed my window with a sigh.

Just a few minutes later Carlisle and I were at the hospital, ready to relieve the day workers. I had just donned my uniform as my father spoke with Lloyd, a doctor whom we had gradually befriended.

"Not so many new admissions today," Lloyd informed Carlisle. "The gentleman in bed 216 was struck down by fever in the street on his way home, the elderly lady over there was admitted in the morning by her daughter-in-law, and those two behind you came in at around noon. The poor lad brought his mother all the way down here, and once she was in her bed he himself collapsed! Now he looks in worse shape than her."

Frowning for the unfortunate pair, I turned to see the patients to which Lloyd was referring. Once my eyes landed on the two beds, I stopped breathing and stared in horror.

Elizabeth was writhing slightly, sweat glistening on her skin. Her eyes were half open and gazing intently at the bed next to her, and on that bed lay her son. Lloyd was not lying – Edward did look worse off than his mother. He was a pale, unnatural colour; his eyes were closed and his chest was rising and falling only slightly. I staggered over to him, shaking my head.

Staring down at him, I heard a broken murmur from behind me; "Bella."

I turned slowly to face her, "Mrs. Masen."

"Bella, is he alright?" She whispered weakly. "What can you do for him?"

"Well, usually we try to reduce pain first... but he's sleeping now," I studied him for a moment before lifting one of his burning hands and gently showing it to her. "This discolouration in his fingertips, it means the influenza has caused cyanosis... And for that I can inject oxygen directly into his bloodstream."

Upon remembering the treatment, I nodded to myself and wandered off to equip myself. I kept a blank, calm exterior – addressing one of his ailments at a time. Just below the surface though, I wondered how many secondary infections I would have to combat – pneumonia, vasomotor depression, toxemia... the horrors may all have been present in him and all I could do was treat them one by one. With most patients, I did as well as I could and usually knew it would all be too much, but I refused to acknowledge that with Edward. Failure with him was truly not an option.

***

Hours later, and Edward had just woken up once – with a heartbreakingly weak crooked smile for me. He was conscious long enough to drink a little from the mixture I had prepared, but then he sank back into the pillows with closed eyes. Chewing worriedly on my lip, I turned to help Elizabeth drink some of the same remedy.

"Wh – what's this?" She coughed. "It's quite nice."

I took the empty flask from her and smiled vaguely. "It's cinnamon in the oil form, mixed with milk. Reduces temperature, and is quite nice."

Mrs. Masen smiled feebly, watching me. "Thank you, sweet girl. For helping us today, for helping us after Edward's passing... For helping us since the day we met you, really. Never have I seen my son so happy."

A lump formed in my throat as I smiled with gratitude. "Oh... Well... You know I do it all partly formyself. I don't think I've ever been quite so happy. Not now, obviously, but... "

She smiled once more and patted my hand as her eyes shut, "Sweet girl..."

I watched her for a moment, making sure her heart was still beating. With a sigh, I made sure the flannels on their heads were still cool and then hurried off to prepare the next treatment.

***

It was around midnight, and the Masens were still both asleep. I had just finished checking their temperatures, and was now studying Edward's hands to see if cyanosis was still present. I was considering another oxygen injection when I heard a rasp from behind me. I jumped and turned to see Elizabeth glaring up at me fiercely.

She grabbed my hand with encouraging strength, "Save him!"

I swallowed and nodded, "You know I'll do everything in my power."

"You must; you must do everything in your power." She insisted, her eyes boring into mine. "What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward!"

I stared back at her, wondering if she meant what she seemed to mean. The way she was looking at me, the way she had made her demand... I felt as though, somehow, she knew what I had been hiding from her. While I was staring at her, her eyes rolled back and she let go of me. Tangled in her sheets, she writhed and heaved – overcome by the fever. I knew I had to cool her down, and decided to use the coldest thing available.

But as I placed my icy hands at her wrists, trying to cool her bloodstream, her body already seemed out of control – out of mine and out of hers. Her heart pounded faster and faster until it suddenly stopped with a low thud. Then silence. I stared, disbelieving, at her lifeless body.

"No..." I murmured weakly. "No!" I tried to resuscitate her, and I tried silently begging the Lord... But neither worked. I stood in between the two beds, looking from Elizabeth to her son, wondering what I was supposed to do.

I gasped, or perhaps I choked. Either way, a shocked sound escaped me. I had no tears to offer, but damn it I was going to cry for her anyway. I fell to my knees by Elizabeth's bed and held her lifeless hand in mine. What I wanted was to fulfil her wish, to save her last hope and mine. I stared at her face, listening to Edward's heartbeat and wondering why she didn't look peaceful yet. I thought back to the exact words she had said, and wondered if she could possibly mean what I thought.

I got up and stood between them once more, looking again from one beloved face to the other. There I stood for an immeasurable amount of time, until one thing changed – Edward's unsteady pulse quickened. It was only a slight change, but it gave me a sense of déjà vu that sent a shiver down my spine.

Watching Elizabeth die was enough. I refused to see it happen to him.

For some reason, all the commotion in my mind then stopped. Calmly, I wheeled Mrs. Masen's bed out of the room, through the dark hallways and down to the morgue. I then returned to Edward's bed and, with a glance at the empty space beside it, I wheeled him out, too. I pushed him silently through the halls, knowing that none of the doctors rushing around us would notice his heartbeat. When I reached the room of the dead, I was struck by the sudden need to have him away from them, and quickened my pace. Carefully, I lifted him from his bed and carried him out the back door. I wasn't sure how I felt about skulking through the night, avoiding the streetlamps and listening for humans. I wasn't sure how I felt about anything. I simply focused on Edward, and thought with anxiety and anticipation about what I planned to do.

When I opened my front door, I smelt Carlisle in the air and remembered him. He would still be at the hospital, I was sure. I stopped in the hallway, wondering honestly how he would feel about what I was doing. I was almost doubting my actions when I heard Edward's pulse quicken again – much faster this time. As it had before, the noise made all the difference, and I hurried upstairs to my room.

As I laid him out on the bed, I heard Edward moan; at some point he had regained consciousness. I swept some damp hair from his face and ran a cold hand along his cheek.

"Bella," he croaked. His eyes travelled across my face as he lifted his hand to hold mine. "You're so cold."

I smiled sadly, "No, you're just rather hot."

Edward shook his head and chuckled, "Honestly, do you think I'm feeble-minded? You always feel this way... All those times I said you were different from anyone else, I meant it in more ways than one."

I stared into his eyes, shocked at his whispered confession. All those months, I'd thought I had pulled off the human charade perfectly – and in one night I had found that they both, apparently, knew far too much. But I dismissed this worry; it didn't really matter, seeing as soon he would be very much in on the secret.

"You're right," I admitted. "Now, just close your eyes."

He watched me for a moment. "What are you going to do?"

I took a deep breath, "I'm going to make you better."

As I wondered if this was even true, Edward nodded and his deep green eyes closed. I listened to his heartbeat, stuttering and faltering, and knew I had to act soon. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his head, promising myself it wouldn't be our last kiss. Listening to his pulse, I felt as though my own heart should have been beating out of my chest as I moved my lips down to his neck. One hand steadying his shoulder and the other hand holding his, there I paused for a moment... Before closing my eyes and parting my lips to taste human blood for the first time.