Previously
Emmett POV
"Bella," the name slipped from Edward's mouth. He rocked back on the ground, looking crushed, as if all the breath had been knocked out of him, leaving him dying.
"Oh God," I couldn't help myself. I wanted to bury my face in my hands, to shut out the impossible news. My baby Bella, my little girl, the tiny baby I had nursed so carefully, the little girl I had raised to never be afraid of the dark, was stabbed.
"Young Isabella was rushed to the OR where she made it to recovery in a very unstable state. She passed in her sleep just hours ago, in the ICU here at the Phoenix Memorial."
Emmett POV
"No!" Rose cried desperately. She clasped both hands to her mouth, her shoulders shaking with crazed sobs. Her face was twisted in horror, desolation.
"Oh God Bella," I couldn't hold back the sobs that wracked through me. I felt as if my heart had collapsed in a burst of fiery agony. "Bella."
Third Person POV
Edward froze, stunned. Bella, his little Bella. Bella was gone. The flood of memories, of feelings, of everything, hit him like a tidal wave, knocking him to the ground with the force of it all.
He curled into a ball, squeezing himself in himself, crushing his legs to his chest. He pulled at his bronze hair, sparkling in the rare sunlight of the Alaskan wilderness.
Bella, laughing as he chased her down the sandy shores of First Beach. Bella, shrieking with delight as he swung her around above his head like an airplane. Bella smiling as she messed with his coppery hair. Bella running, her tiny hand clasped over his much larger one. Bella. Bella, holding tightly to his icy cold hands as she willed his spirit back to his body. Bella.
Her silky brown locks twisting down her back. Her warm chocolate eyes, like endless tunnels to her soul. Her ivory white skin, her pale rosy lips.
Everything he pictured, perfect little Bella, turned dark in the blink of an eye. Instead of the sun casting a glow over Bella, it was the moon, icy darkness surrounding her. Her hair was no longer healthy, shimmering molten chocolate. Her eyes were no longer sparkling with love and luster, but dead, no light in them, dulled like the edge of an over used blade. Her ivory skin turned to pale ice, her rosy lips becoming tinged blue with death.
Agony worse than anything he had ever felt, worse than the change to vampirism, worse than knowing he could never see his baby Bella again. At least then he had some light to look to. He had been able to look ahead and know, just know that even though he could never be with her again, she could be happy. She could get married and have children, move past the loss she had suffered, and be happy, whole, once more.
Now he had none of that. She had none of that. He had lost everything, lost any hope for Bella to live a whole, happy existence. She was dead. She was gone forever.
He had to be alone, had to escape from this hell he was trapped in, no reprieve, not even sleep.
Without waiting for anyone to tell him no, he fled from the room, slamming the door shut behind him as he disappeared from the house.
He ran through the shimmering sun, weaving through the forest until he reached the lake. He threw himself into the icy blue water, hitting the surface with a smacking splash. Letting his dead body sink into the blue oblivion, Edward lay still, unable to bear the unadulterated agony bursting through him in a constant flow.
Slowly, with age and wear his body would never allow, Edward curled in himself, sobbing out noiseless sobs deep under the sunlight shining down on the lake.
The weather was mocking him, taunting him, dancing horridly in front of him. While his Bella was gone, his angel was dead, the rest of the world kept spinning, and people kept laughing, talking, whatever their untroubled minds wished. But not Bella. Not Bella. Bella, who was gone, dead forever, was not laughing. She was dead. She above anyone else deserved to be dancing under the sun, spinning in all of its glory. But she didn't get that. She didn't get to be happy on this bittersweet day. And if his Bella was deprived of that joy, so would he. For the rest of time.
One o'clock AM
Peter POV
I sat beside Bella's bed, holding her hand, distinctly warm against my icy skin. I had hardly left her side since moving her from Phoenix Memorial. Gabriel had deemed it appropriate to move her once hearing our entire story.
Though Bella's mother had the greatest intentions, her carelessness was unacceptable. Her thoughtlessness and her hair-brained, whimsical attitude could have gotten Bella killed. It was safer, while we could still pass Bella's disappearance off on her death and whisk her away to somewhere far, to move her now.
Gabriel called a time of death, flat-lining the machine with a misplaced heart monitor pad and plenty of sedatives. It was risky, drugging Bella so deeply but the defibrillator could have killed her had her heart not been slowed to near death.
He had drained some of the tainted blood while giving her pumping fresh blood into her system the moment he had gotten her settled in his vacation house deep in the desert. It was rare than anyone came out this far so there was next to no chance that anyone would see her.
Though at least half of the morphine had been siphoned from her system, she still remained in a deep slumber, in practically a comatose state. She was too far-gone to know anything for certain. She should not have been moved until she was more stable, but it was too dangerous, risking that others would find her stabilizing and wonder of her sudden death.
"How is she?" Lottie knocked lightly on the door, slipping in to take my open hand. She smiled sadly at Bella's limp, but peaceful form, lying as if she were already dead, buried in the deep blue bedding. She stroked her forehead lightly, brushing wisps of hair from her face.
"No different," I kissed Lottie's cheek softly, letting her rest in the chair beside me. "Gabriel said she's not in a coma. She's just deeply drugged. He said she's stable now. Just in a lot of pain." Lottie's face drooped downward, sadness spreading throughout her angel face. I stroked her cheek tenderly, smiling with a downcast weight. "He's got her under deeply. She doesn't feel a thing.
"Do you want me to watch her for a while?" she asked gently, running a hand across my face, smoothing the worry lines from my forehead. "You should hunt. You haven't since that night."
I sighed, turning my face to kiss her palm. "I'll wait for her to wake up first," I decided, leaning into her hand. "Just to be sure."
"You needn't worry," she assured me. "She's strong. I can feel it. I promise, love."
Four Hours Later
Bella's pale rose tinted lips opened in a soft groan. Her small body shifted slightly. I reached forward, attempting to stop her, but the damage was done. Her eyes flickered open as she cried out, her chest heaving, only intensifying the pain.
"Bella, sweetie, you need to calm down, breathe slowly," I murmured softly, smoothing her hair with gentle strokes. I had never had a child of my own, though Charlotte and I had always wished we could. But an immortal child was outlawed and I would not condemn an innocent child to death for my selfish wants. But Bella was… different. We, Lottie and I, were drawn to her. I couldn't just leave her behind when her mother was going to get her killed. I had to keep her safe, like she was my own daughter. She was too vulnerable; we had to protect her.
"Peter," she sighed feebly. She smiled dazedly, clutching weakly to my hand. "You… saved… me."
"Shh," I soothed her. "Save your breath. It'll hurt less. Gabriel, a doctor friend of Lottie and I, is on his way in, in a few seconds."
"Thank you," she breathed, still holding my hand.
I just smiled, brushing small circles into the back of her hand with my thumb.
"Hello Bella," Gabriel whispered, slipping noiselessly into the room. He smiled gently, ever the caring and kind doctor. He worried for all his patients, especially the children, but he, like Lottie and I, had taken to Bella, even in her comatose state.
I excused myself from the room, promising Bella that I would return soon, listening to her soft giggling as Gabriel told her a story about when he had gotten into mischief as a child.
Later that Day
I sat with Lottie on the couch, my head resting on her chin, my arms about her waist. Bella had quickly fallen asleep after he had checked on her. He told us that it was natural and that after her substantial blood loss, she would sleep for hours and hours.
We sat in silence, listening to the steady beat of Bella's heart, Gabriel reading a book at the computer hutch across the room.
I started slightly when my phone buzzed. Lottie laughed at the shocked expression on my face, shifting so I could reach it. Noticing the number on the phone, I flipped it open, startled.
"Carlisle?"
