A/N Thank you all for your awesome reviews for the last chapter. They came in so quickly after I posted and I loved some of the reactions, despite the icky subject matter. We are definitely in an angsty space for a while.

The title of this refers to the Sarah McLachlan lyric 'Hold on, hold on to yourself, this is gonna hurt like hell'.

Immense gratitude as always to elusivetwilight and cereuleanblue xx

Song: 'Carry You Home' By James Blunt

Hold On

As strong as you were, tender you go.
I'm watching you breathing for the last time.
A song for your heart, but when it is quiet,
I know what it means and I'll carry you home.
I'll carry you home.
If she had wings she would fly away,
And another day God will give her some.
Trouble is the only way is down.
Down, down.

-x-x-x-

I had never given much thought to how I would die.

I would never have imagined it like this. On the side of the highway at dusk.

Murdered.

My killer approached on the premise of helping me, when he wasn't really there to help me at all. What I really didn't expect was quite how cold and callous his intentions actually were.

As soon as the truck had sputtered to a stop my hand was dealt to me, and there were no cards I could play. All I held was a twisted fate, culminating in my life now resembling a nineties horror movie.

-x-x-x-

After the world had disappeared around me, shrouded in blackness and pain, the next lucid moment I had was that he was really there and I was actually seeing him, no hallucination this time.

"Edward!" I yelled as the driver's door of the Aston flew open. Emmett came bursting out of the passenger side.

"Bella!" Edward cried. I swear I heard his body cracking like marble through his voice.

"Edward, it's okay. I'm okay now that you're here," I implored.

He didn't respond to me.

It was like I wasn't there. He looked terrified, yet he didn't come straight to me. I looked around. I was standing on the road. My truck was where it had stopped, hood still up. Edward had pulled up a few metres away behind it. The driver's door of my truck was open; I could see the streak marks of blood I had left across the seat and door panel when he had dragged me.

Edward ran past where I stood calling to him, choosing, instead, to head towards the back of the Chevy. I followed after him, moving closely behind Emmett. As I approached around the corner of the truck, Edward collapsed in front of us. His knees crumpled, giving out beneath him as he fell to the ground. It was as if the gravel was absorbing him like quicksand; the frailty I had just witnessed so foreign to the strong figure he always seemed. He reached down in front of him pulling something carefully to his body.

"Oh, fuck, Edward..." I heard Emmett say, a mix of trepidation and empathy in his voice. "Little Swan," he murmured.

"She's still warm, but she's not breathing and I can't hear her heart," Edward said shakily. It was far from the lyrical tone of his voice that usually made my ears sing. He wasn't looking at Emmett when he spoke. His head was down, shaking with denial.

I walked further around past Emmett so I could get a better view of what was going on, why they kept on talking about me, but not to me.

When I saw the scene unfurling in front of me I began to wretch, bringing up nothing other than the return of the sickly taste of blood to my tongue.

It seemed that the Aston Martin my tortured mind had heard rounding a bend had actually been there. It must have been the reason for my killer's disappearance when I had last opened my eyes. It all clicked into place. Edward and Emmett had come skidding to a stop in the beautiful gunmetal grey car just a moment too late. I was sure if they had been a scant minute earlier I would have seen Edward's face and that alone would have been enough to keep my heart beating a little longer. But my eyes had closed just before the car had stopped. A second later my heart faded out, along with everything else. That's where all went blank. A pivotal change had occurred in that moment, until the time when I had just cried out to Edward.

When I was eighteen, I died.

The realisation hitting me, I spaced out, went totally numb, and tried to process everything.

My best friend, the love of my life, was there with me. I knew that now, because I could see.

He had his arms wrapped around me. He was listening for my heart and trying to squeeze me back together.

The look on Edward's face should have torn my heart apart at the seams of its chambers. If it had still been beating.

It wasn't.

I was bleeding. I was broken.

And all I could do was stare.

Watching Edward and being totally helpless to do anything about his pain was what made me realise I was dead. The part that I couldn't figure out was how I could see everything that was going on, as if I was still here.

Looking down, I could feel my body when I placed my hands to my stomach. My clothes were gashed and stained, there were slight pains inside me like bruises. There was a little bit of blood around, but there were no cuts, no wounds, no broken bones. Yet in front of me lay my destroyed form, wrapped in Edward and clearly wounded and broken. He was wearing a white t-shirt, which was now being stained red as it soaked up the evidence of my state.

I had to look away as I felt a gagging wretch building in my chest again. Emmett was assessing the scene a little. He could barely look at his brother, collapsed on the ground with me lifeless in his arms. Confident Emmett was at a total loss, his usually statuesque form seeming smaller and less present in that moment.

"Do you think the bastard that did this is still close? I'm going to find that fucker," Emmett growled, clearly not knowing how else to deal with the situation.

"No. Bella," was all Edward could get out.

"Right, we'll um…later then. Uh, I'll get the car," Emmett said, anxiously turning on his heels. He looked over his shoulder at Edward to check he could manage with me.

The rain began to fall then. I couldn't help feeling that it was symbolic, the air thick with murky encompassing pain. I watched as Edward stood gingerly with me laden in his arms. I clearly wasn't a burden as he hugged me to his chest, looking around him in desperation, before he took off with me toward the woods.

Emmett watched him momentarily, about to call out, then thought better of it. He threw himself back into the car, spinning the gravel across the ground as he accelerated away towards their house. I could understand that sitting in the car with me may have had Edward tearing at the upholstery in frustration and anxiousness, but I couldn't work out why they weren't at least taking me in the direction of the hospital. They hadn't even called an ambulance.

I panicked then. If they weren't taking me to the hospital, then there must be no hope. There had to be hope. I had wanted it to be over when he had his knife to me. I took it back now. I didn't want it to be over. Emmett, Edward, they made me remember that.

I turned back to watch Edward as he ran, and ran like nothing I had ever seen before. It was a lissom and captivating and I knew I couldn't keep up. He was heading in the direction of his house, where I had been on my way to, so I let him slip out of sight before following the best I could.

When I reached my second home I could hear panic and pain edged voices as the sounds seeped out through the thick glass of the front windows. I froze just before the edge of the river that ran through the front of the property. An agonised cry that would never leave the memory of my ears tore out of the house and reverberated off the surrounding trees.

"CARLISLE!"

-x-x-x-