Stephenie Meyer and Little, Brown Publishing own the Twilight series, and my name is not Stephenie, nor am I a publishing company. Therefore, this stuff isn't mine.

There had never been a time in my life where I felt so helpless. Every minute that passed was sixty seconds of agony and horror for Edward, but there was nothing I could do. The only option was to kill EJ, and that wasn't much of an option at all. Even though I was dying. I knew, Edward knew, Rose knew, and the rest of the Cullens knew. But I'd been on my deathbed before and I saw no reason to loose faith now and do something that I would regret for eternity. Everything was going to work out fine. It was just a matter of days before we found a way for me to keep some food down, and stop the bruises, and get my energy back. There had to be a way for me to stay with Edward and have EJ at the same time.

That wasn't the only reason I felt helpless though. With each passing day, not only was my body slowly (and painfully) going down death road, but the body of little EJ. Every nudge was weaker than the last, though still painful because I was wasting away right along with him. He was going to die from starvation because the only person who had the ability to help him was too weak to keep down one stinking cracker. You would think that, after having no food for over five days, a normal person would be hungry enough to not throw their food right back up. Then again, there wasn't really anything normal about me.

I felt like the Titanic. I was going down and I was going to take everyone with me. Even when I wouldn't gasp or wince or show any signs that I was in pain, Edward just knew. Really, it was like a never-ending chain reaction thing. First I would eat, and then throw it up again. Then, EJ would get weaker because he wasn't getting any nourishment. So of course I would get worried, making myself feel worse. Finally, Edward would see me looking sicker and get this look in his eyes as if he were in Hell. Well, actually he probably was in his own version of Hell. If there was anything I could do at all…

"Edward?" I began, glancing down at his still figure that was sitting on the floor in front of me. I winced at another weary nudge that was weak enough to send any loving mother into a panic attack. I didn't even acknowledge that my voice sounded like crap. It was my voice now. Or at least it was for the remainder of the pregnancy.

"Yes…Bella?" He replied, not meeting my gaze, but instead looking down at the floor. He'd been saying my name more than usual lately. My guess was that he thought that his chances to do so were limited. I closed my eyes, refusing to let Edward see the tears that were preparing to launch at that thought.

"You're hurting yourself," I whispered, gently rubbing his hand that was clutching his hair so tightly that it was threatening to rip it out. Looking surprised, well as surprised as the dead look he had taken up permitted, he met my gaze.

"Don't worry about me. I'm alr—" I cut him off. I couldn't stand to hear him say that he was alright. To say that he was in complete anguish would be an understatement.

"No Edward. I'm alright. I'm getting along just fine…There's no need for you to…rip your hair out over this." When I had said that I was getting along 'just fine' he had literally ripped some of his hair out.

"Bella…" He trailed off, refusing to tear his eyes away from mine. His eyes were saying 'You're wrong.'

"Edward…" I trailed off, matching his tone. With my eyes, I said 'No. You're wrong."

"Bella's going to be great, Edward," Rosalie cut in, making me turn to face her. I felt another bump that was so wimpy that it couldn't even be classified as a nudge anymore. "Oh, don't look at me like that."

I couldn't see Edward's face, but apparently it was severe enough that when Emmett walked in and caught a glimpse of it, he felt the need to mutter something to Rose about 'backing off a bit'. Rose didn't acknowledge that she'd heard him.

"He called again?" Edward asked, finally turning away from Rose and towards Emmett.

Emmett nodded. "Esme's been talking to him."

"Been talking to…who?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Charlie."

No one had specifically said what was going on in the conversations between Esme and Charlie, but I had deduced that Charlie was under the impression that he was talking to a receptionist named Julie Williams who worked at the doctor's office/hospital that I was getting treated at. The Cullens must have given him a bad number. I could also guess that he was an absolute wreck.

"I should talk to him," I said quietly, remembering the sound of Charlie's voice. I was almost desperate to hear him again.

"Bella, we've already talked about that," Edward said gently. I had been mentioning giving Charlie a call for a few days now. Each time, I got the same answer.

"He can't be handling this very well. Maybe if he could just hear my voice again…" I reasoned, bringing up the same point I had a million times before. Edward wrinkled his eyebrow, debating. Something about our most recent conversation seemed to have changed his mind. At least now he was considering it.

"Please Edward?" My voice cracked.

"I…I don't…know," He was obviously against it, but he didn't want to say no to me. I remained silent, letting him think. "Charlie is…distraught." He muttered, more to himself than me. "It could be good closure," He was trying to talk himself into it. "I…suppose so." He said, with a pained smile that didn't reach anywhere near his eyes.

In the next second, he was handing me his cell phone. I tried to dial, but my fingers were too clumsy. With a dead look, Edward took the phone back, dialed for me, and handed it to me again. "Thank you" I mouthed, while it was ringing.

"Hello?" Charlie answered the phone. His voice was thick.

I didn't answer. I was letting the joy I was feeling run through me. His voice was like an antidote, helping me to feel stronger.

"Hello?" He asked again.

"D-Dad?" I hadn't even realized that I had started crying at his voice. I had hoped to save the tears until later in the conversation.

"Bells? Is that really you?" His voice picked up like it always did when he was excited.

"Yes." I whispered, savoring every word that he said.

"I wasn't sure if I was going to get to talk to you again." I could tell that the momentary glee he had felt was gone, replaced with sadness. "You sound…"

"I know." He could tell that my voice was getting worse.

"Where are you? I want to come see you."

"I'm…quarantined." I said, having a hard time thinking clearly and remembering the word I wanted to use.

He muttered something that I couldn't understand.

"So…how are you?" I asked, trying to get over the slightly awkward pause. What a stupid question to ask.

"Worried." He said gruffly, his voice still thick, shaking with the effort to keep from crying.

"Dad, I'm okay. I'm great," I said, a crack in my voice contradicting my words. I saw Edward cringe.

"You don't sound so great," He murmured.

"Really? Well…I… am." Nice comeback.

Charlie didn't respond.

"I don't know when I'll get to call you again," I said. If I'll get to call you again.

"Are the doctors being mean to you? Are you not allowed to use the phone?" He asked, sounding angry.

"No, of course not. They're great."

"Then what's wrong?"

I couldn't come up with a witty explanation. I was really missing my brain food.

"Um. I don't like… phones….right now." Wow.

On the other end, Charlie was silent, trying to decide what to make of my words.

"Actually, never mind that." Charlie didn't say anything. "Well…I love you."

"You're leaving already?" He sounded distraught.

"Yes." I needed to end the phone call now before I said something really stupid. Also, I was being shredded again so I wouldn't be able to say much more anyway.

"I love you." I repeated, the tears flowing faster.

"Bells…I love you too." He barely managed to choke anything out at all.

"Bye." I whispered, my tears progressing to sobs.

"Bells…" Was all he could say. Against my will, I clicked the phone off.