Author's Note: ugh. Still looking for a Beta. Being one myself I used to edit my own but, ugh. It gets so frustrating, and it's a well-known fact that the people with sharper eyes for mistakes are the readers, so... I NEED A BETA READER! :P

On a sadder note: My keyboard is dying, and it is becoming very hard to type. :S

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The Twilight series is the imaginative creativity of Stephenie Meyer.

Chapter Fourteen.

'Until Your Lungs Give Out'

Edward stiffened and growled mercilessly.

"She's no pet." Emmett snarled. I felt a sudden surge of affection for the muscular vampire I thought of as my big brother.

Irina didn't seem miffed in the least. She turned her wide, angry eyes to glare at each of us in turn, as if waiting for something. I could almost see the smoke billowing out from her ears, the flames and sparks jetting out pitilessly from her dark eyes. I took an unwilling step back.

Finally, what she seemed to have been waiting for happened. It was as if the room had sighed; we all sensed it was coming, we knew what had taken place between us all without the need for words. If the floor had suddenly opened up and a huge neon sign had popped out between us, it would have somehow been less obvious. We all just knew.

"So … you're still going to fight the werewolves." Carlisle said. He was just making unnecessary clarification, I could tell.

Carmen raised an eyebrow in monotonous disbelief. "Obviously."

"Well then, I guess there's nothing we can do." Carlisle added quietly. I threw him a look of incredulity. "We aren't seriously going to sit here and do NOTHING?" I wanted to yell. Instead, I turned to Edward, questions written all over my face, in the obvious lines forming between my eyebrows, in the dark circles under my eyes, in the anxious bite marks I had subconsciously etched into my lips. He shook his head slightly, indicating that he would tell me everything later. I couldn't believe we were just giving up – the dream I had had a few nights ago was bubbling up through the black fog in my brain in thunderous gasps of terrible graphic images that I did not want to see.

But, the voice in my head said, though unconvincingly, the pack outnumbers the Denali coven greatly. They'll probably win the fight. They'll probably be the ones to rip Tanya's coven apart. But, as I let my eyes deviate over each of the Alaskan vampires in turn, I realized that I did not want them hurt, either. I couldn't explain it – I hatedthat coven, felt absolute, unadulterated loathing toward them. Yet I also felt … pity. That's the best way to describe it. They could be peaceful and wonderful like the Cullens, too, but Laurent had obviously affected – or more appropriate - infected – them in a very negative way.

If a werewolf had killed Edward, whether or not he was trying to drink from someone, I would want to get my revenge, too, I realized. I would become just like Irina. I would want to stop anyone getting in my way. And the Cullens would probably help; they would probably have done the same thing that Tanya's coven was doing.

This epiphany left me even more dazed and confused – so I hated them, yet I sympathized with them?

"Goodbye, Carlisle. Esme." Eleazar's voice rang with an ominous finality as he stepped forward to clasp Esme and Carlisle's hands in turn with both of his own, giving them a furious shake. He turned to give a small wave to the rest of us, as if he was leaving for a long vacation or something. Not one pf the Cullens returned the gesture.

As soon as Tanya's coven of vampires had disappeared out of earshot, everyone converged in around where Edward and I were stood.

"Alright, now what?" Emmett said excitedly, his hands balled into fists at his side - he was bobbing up and down in a very Alice-like gesture.

I stared.

"Should Bella come? I mean, it wouldn't be useful to have her in the way – sorry Bella – if we have to go and stop them from fighting." Jasper said quietly.

Everyone turned to look at me thoughtfully. Only Edward and Rosalie had stubborn my-mind's-already-made-up looks on their faces, and they both stated firmly at the same time: "No."

I looked from one to the other. Edward was just being stupid again – he was always treating me like I was made of porcelain, and he wanted to keep me out of the way of rogue werewolves and vicious vampires, I knew. Rosalie's reaction, however, left me nonplussed. She had never liked me; in fact, she used to be completely antagonistic toward me. She'd come around a little after a while, even going so far as to explaining her jealousy and why I shouldn't become a vampire. But she'd never cared much for me, either way. Whether I lived or died had never really bothered her.

Rosalie saw my questioning look and forced an awkward half-smile that only slightly obscured her dazzling goddess features. "I don't want you to get hurt." She said softly. (Edward smirked at her sudden turn around, and at my reaction to it.). "…I can sympathize with Irina, though." She admitted. I nodded.

"Me, too." I announced, looking directly at Edward as I spoke. I wouldn't stop until I could avenge him, either. I loved him too much to let him go without a fight.

"So then, it's settled." Alice chirped, bringing me out of my reverie. "Bella can stay in the trail leading to the clearing, and wait for us there. We will go to stop the fight. But –" She looked around at Carlisle, her question trailing off.

"If we can't stop it, we will have to fight." Carlisle said grimly. There was an obvious undercurrent of resignation and irremediableness in his voice. So they were preparing to fight.

"But, Carlisle, who's side do we fight on?" Esme's voice held tension so thick it was nearly tangible; this was the question that everyone was worried about. Do they fight for the treaty, for hope, or for friendship, and vengeance? If I looked at it in an unbiased way (which I couldn't, when I thought of Jacob, Embry, Quil, Seth, and Emily compared to the hate filled coven that had just passed through) I had to admit that both sides were appealing.

All eyes were on me again.

"I think." Said Carlisle slowly, after long deliberation, "That we should fight with the wolves."

"Edward, please just let me come. I can help!" I protested fruitlessly. Edward shook his head.

"Bella, love, everything will be fine. No one will be hurt." He assured me unavailingly. He leaned down to kiss my resentful lips, his cool breath making my head spin, as usual, and I forgot to breathe. When I was about to faint, he finally pulled away, the last moment of our lips together rushing through with unmatched urgency.

"Come back." I whispered helplessly, foreboding creeping up on me from somewhere deep under the ground, rooting me to my place, tears fighting their way to the surface.

"I will." Edward promised, looking away. Then, without a warning, he sped off into the trees to join his family, Tanya's coven, and the wolves, where they were gathered, waiting to fight.

I wanted to sit down, but my knees refused to bend. I couldn't gather up the strength and will to move toward the ground. I was worried – if Tanya's coven somehow managed to win, everyone I cared about was in danger. Strong and powerful Emmett, who was also kind and funny, Willful and gorgeous Rosalie, who was also loyal and thoughtful, Alice, so joyful and friendly, Jasper, cool, collected, battle-scared, Esme – motherly, kind and beautiful Esme, who always looked out for everyone, Carlisle, his years of hard work at resistance and acceptance, and Jacob – my beautiful, amazing Jacob, with such a huge heart and even huger opinions, and Edward. I couldn't live without Edward. If one of them hurt him, I would … nothing. I couldn't do anything if he got hurt, because I was a weak, useless, pathetic human.

Why couldn't he have changed me!? I pounded my fist of the nearest tree in anger and agitation, which wasn't a good idea, because a big purple bruise appeared on my hand almost immediately, leaving it feeling tender. My scream of pain was lost, however, drowned out by another shriek – a much more repugnant one, filled with detestation and terror: "YOU TRAITORIOUS FOOLS!"

It was followed by even more hair-raising, shrill wails, and soon, the sound I'd come to know only too well – that god awful, metallic screech and thud.

My muscles stopped refusing to move almost instantly – I was suddenly running, (and falling) and running (and falling again) as fast as my little legs could carry me toward the source of the horrific noises. Everyone I loved was in trouble – there must be something I could do to help!

I need to go. The little voice in my head was yelling, I can stop this. I know I can. I am the bridge over the gap between the werewolves and the vampires, a lowly human who is fond of them all. I can stop this.

But time was slowing down. It was as if it knew that I needed to speed up, to go faster and stop the war, and it was deliberately slowing, spurring on my weaknesses with slow motion, willing me to go faster but at the same time holding me back. Finally, after what seemed like hours, I stumbled into the clearing.

And was struck by the scene that faced me.