Disclaimer: Still not mine (Twilight, that is. This plot, however, does belong to me :D)

AN: So, I've realized I should probably write these ANs after I re-read the chapters, and not before, but whatever. I think I like this one, but I have the feeling it's maybe a little choppy and disconnected. Also way too teen-angst-love-story ish. Uh-oh. As a rule, I don't really like this kind of thing, but it was kind of necessary, I thought. Anywho, um, here it is! Now, I'm hoping I haven't lost the thread of this or something, because some of my lovely reviewers seem to have forsaken me. :( But, I do still have some lovely reviewers, and I love you guys! Thank you times a million, as always. Now, read on!

That summer, for the first time in decades, I actually had a purpose again. No longer did I simply spend my days drifting, daydreaming, avoiding looking into my mother's haunted eyes, and scaring tenants.

Now, I met Bella in the mornings, and brought her back. I monitored her carefully through my bizarre memories, spent the days and nights thinking about them, pondering our progress, and the evenings talking them over, talking strategy, with Bella.

After a time, though, something became glaringly clear to me, something that had been haunting me for some time now. Right from almost the beginning, I'd known it. I was growing attached to Bella. Much too attached. No, not even that. I wasn't growing attached, I was attached.

I felt so ashamed of myself. Here she was, working so hard, and so selflessly, to help me. And I had the nerve to fall- no. Not that. My mother's declaration wasn't true. It couldn't be. But nevertheless, I was much more interested in Bella, and not only for her capacity to help me, than I should be.

I was disgusted with myself. If I weren't careful, I could ruin all of our - her hard work. Already I caught myself fabricating excuses to draw our time out. I'd never been anxious, or obsessed with leaving this earth like some, but I'd always wanted to go. Now, though, I wasn't sure.

So, starting right then, that's what I was. Careful. When I wasn't actually with Bella, talking strategy, I avoided the house at all costs. I was trying to cut down the number of our nightly planning sessions, and when we did have them, I was strictly business, quickly consulting her on our progress, and then leaving. I tried to stop the newly forming memories, but those were one thing I had no control over. The best I could do was try and tune them out, pay less attention.

One day, though, the memory was too strong, too important to be ignored.

I was walking with Bella, taking her back to my house - I had a piece on the piano I had wanted to show her, and also I had wanted to introduce her to my mother. But it wasn't the events that were important, although they were significant enough in themselves. It was my thoughts. I hadn't been paying enough attention to the past recently, in my attempts to distance myself from Bella, and prevent what I now realized was the inevitable. But now that I was listening, I realized that it wasn't just me anymore. I could hear it in my memories, in fact, it had probably been there for weeks, if I'd had the sense to look.

He knew it, knew that he was. . . I forced my self to think it. In love with her. But unlike for me, it wasn't a cause of grief for him. How I envied my past self that. No, right at this moment, he - I - was planning the best way to tell her.

And then it hit me. What should have been glaringly obvious from so long ago. We had the wrong plan, the wrong idea. I was never meant to enlist, to save myself by getting out of Chicago. In fact, I was pretty sure I'd known that since the beginning, but had gone along for her sake. I realized that mistake now. But also, I realized, in the kind of blinding, lightning-flash epiphanies you only read about in books, what the real solution was. The real reason I couldn't go on, the real thing that would have to change in order for me to.

It all made sense now. What I - we, were feeling with Bella, the reason it was so monumental, and why it had taken me so long to see it for what it was, when my mother had guessed in only two days.

It was so monumental, because I'd never felt it before. Not ever in my more than a hundred years of existence, had I ever experienced love.

And I was supposed to. It was one of the most basic things, I realized now. Nobody should die without having loved and being loved in return.

That was what it would take to set me free. Not just loving her, but she would have to love me back, and I would have to know it. And, if things kept going the way they were, that might happen very soon.

But I couldn't let it.

I could say that the reason I wanted to stop myself from confessing my feelings to Bella were pure and selfless. That, if I did, she might realize she had feelings for me, and it would hurt her when I left. I could tell myself that was the reason, but I'd be lying.

No, the real reason I had to stop this, right now, was purely selfish. If I allowed my past self to confess to Bella, and she turned out to return my feelings, I would go on, disappear from this earth forever. And I had no idea where I'd end up. It could take me away from her, forever, and that, I couldn't stand.

Therefore, she couldn't be allowed to go back. She would eventually forget about me - I couldn't allow myself to talk to her - , live her life, and marry somebody else. But even watching that, being near her, even if only from a distance, would be better than leaving forever.

I watched the rest of the memory intently, hoping against hope that my epiphany hadn't been too late, that he wasn't planning on telling her today, and I breathed a sigh of relief when she finally said her goodbyes.

As I stood there on the street corner, waiting for her so that I could take her back, and then watching her come into view, knowing this would be the last time she'd ever see me, my heart was breaking. It wouldn't matter as much to her - she was too smart to do something as stupid as fall for me like I had for her - but it mattered to me.

I tried to be normal, joking, when I greeted her, but my "There you are. I though I was going to have to come in to get you!", meant to be teasing, sounded odd and strangled to my own ears.

At first, I tried to give her privacy, but then I realized it was hopeless anyways, so I had no reason not to watch Bella, silently and unnoticed, even if it did feel slightly like torturing myself.

Her behavior that night, though, put some of this out of my mind. She was acting very strangely indeed. Just sitting there, appearing to be deep in thought. Abruptly, her expression turned angry, but soon it was replaced by a look of fierce determination. At that point, I decided to stop torturing myself, and left her in peace once more.

The next morning, I tried to stay away again - knowing it would be easier for me if I could, and wanting to let Bella live her life in peace - but I was too morbidly curios as to what she would do when I didn't show up.

She spent most of the morning in her bedroom, seemingly anxious about something, and I could see that she was muttering to herself, but never loud enough for me to make out. As ten o'clock came and went, I could see her getting worried, but when she started searching the house, calling for me in whispers, I didn't trust myself to be strong enough to ignore her, and I had to leave again.

I told myself that she would get over it quickly, move on. After all, she hadn't cared more about me than as a friend, someone she felt sorry for and wanted to help. I kept telling myself this, but as Sunday came, and, having the house to herself, she called for me again, not keeping her voice down this time, "EDWARD!! Edward, you're freaking me out!!", I realized I would have to explain things to her.

But I also knew the I couldn't tell her the truth - it would hurt both of us too much.

So I settled into my visible form, in her room, standing staring at her wall, and working up my nerve, rehearsing my part. I would have to play the bad guy, and it would involve hurting her more than I could bear to.

After what seemed like an eternity, I heard the door open, and then her footsteps freeze in shock. I was just about to turn around, when a blast of angry sound was thrown at me. "What the hell, Edward Masen? Where have you been?" I barely had time to process this before she changed her tone so abruptly, it made me head spin.

"I'm sorry, I mean, Edward, I was just so worried, I had no idea where you'd gone, and Edward, I'm sorry I'm so bad at this! But I will try harder! Just bring me back, and I promise, I'll do better!"

That stopped me short. Somehow, she seemed to think this was her fault. I couldn't bear her thinking that, blaming everything I'd done on herself, and I just barely managed to keep my face cold and expressionless as I turned to her. "You're not going back."

"But Edward, I have to! I have to save you!" she insisted.

"No. We were wrong, that's not. . . it's something else. We had the wrong plan." I was improvising now, praying she would leave it at that so that I wouldn't have to hurt her more than I already had with my cold, distant manner.

"Then tell me the right plan Edward! What can I do I need to-"

"No." I interrupted. This was what I was dreading, but I had to get it over with. "You can't help."

She was angry now. "Edward, I know I messed up, but I can fix this! I'm supposed to be the one figuring this out! You said I was meant to help you, you're not supposed to be figuring this out, I am! It's my job!"

While we'd been talking - if you could call it that - I'd made my way over to the door, making ready for a quick escape. Not seeing her face, as I had my back to her, also helped me to keep in my role, but now I had to turn to deliver my last, final line. "It's MY LIFE!" I roared at her, summoning all the anger I felt towards myself and throwing it outwards, and then turned abruptly, not being able to bear seeing her face.

I could hear her behind me, so I let my image dissolve away, but was still able to see her as she stood in the hall, looking around her in vain. I made myslef leave, but not before the tears started running down her cheeks.

AN: There we have it! Now you all know what was going on in Casper's head during that/those scenes. And yes, for those of you who have read it, this chapter is heavily influenced by the hospital scene in MS. :D

Well, I hope you enjoyed, and, if you want another super-quick update like these last few, you know how to proceed. (hint, hint) Rrrrrrrreview! :D

Thanks to all of my readers and reviewers, as always,

SkySong