Some weeks later I was skimming through my notebook, wondering if I should be worried. I didn't use the notebook for keeping notes as I read, the original reason Edward had bought it for me, because I seemed to have a photographic memory for what I was reading. Instead, I used it to keep lists of things I didn't want to forget, like what seeds I wanted Edward to look for on his next trip to Seattle, and plants I wanted to try growing in the greenhouse. It kept the clutter out of my mind so that I could focus on my reading, but now, as I looked at the first page, I frowned in confusion.

I'd written FHG in big letters, underlined them several times, and even added a couple of exclamation points. But why? Something about Charlie's 'rallying cry' had been important to me back when I'd first gotten the notebook, but now I couldn't remember what that had been.

Was that normal? How could I retain an entire textbook of complex scientific jargon, yet be unable to retrieve a memory that had obviously been important to me just weeks ago? Or had it been months? I got up and checked the calendar I'd asked Edward to get to help me keep the days straight. It was August 22th. I'd run away in early June, so I'd been here with Edward for over two months already.

I felt better knowing that it had been that long, but still it troubled me that I couldn't remember. It wasn't the first thing I'd forgotten, either. Maybe when Edward got back tonight, I'd ask him what he thought.

I moved over the windows by the desk. It was darkening early tonight, and today for the first time I'd felt a touch of autumn in the air. We probably had another month of dry weather before the fall rains started, but already I could feel that summer was nearing its end. I didn't mind, though. I was looking forward to spending the rest of the year in the cabin, and beyond that if possible.

I knew Charlie would have preferred it if we moved back to Forks, but I didn't want to. Not only did I feel oddly attached to the cabin, but Edward had told me enough of what the world had been like when he'd lived in it that I knew I wouldn't be able to bear having to conform to the way it was now. I'd absolutely refused to believe that women used to vote, that they could come and go from their homes whenever they pleased, and that they could divorce their husbands if they wanted to, without even giving a reason. None of that seemed even remotely possible, but as he told me more I began to realize that the world I'd grown up in was a fairly new society, not the well-established, historic one the government would have had us believe.

It wasn't until Edward told me that just as many women as men used to graduate from college every year and go on to have careers that I truly realized I couldn't go back. I wouldn't be able to contain my resentment. I'd probably assault men at random just out of sheer fury at the unfairness.

I sighed again. I knew it wasn't all men. Charlie wasn't like that, and it sounded like more and more men were joining his group of subversive agents every week. They were apparently wreaking quite a bit of havoc on Forks, having found a way to organize. They'd started meeting in Charlie's storage unit until their numbers outgrew the space. Then another guy had a garage, another a basement. Tonight they were meeting at a bar, the owner having lost a son to the wars at the age of nineteen.

That's where Edward was tonight – at the meeting. He liked being a part of society again, liked feeling useful. He'd told me the other men didn't mind that he wasn't registered, and actually looked up to him for it. The fact that he was Charlie's de facto son-in-law didn't hurt his reputation, either. They knew I was alive and with Edward, and it only served to raise him in their estimation.

I started pacing, looking at the clock I'd asked Edward to buy me when he started going to the meetings. I needed him to come back, and soon. It was eight-thirty, so the meeting was just ending. He should be back within minutes.

But he didn't come back. I stared at the clock, watching the minute hand tick, reminded of something. I'd watched a clock before, and I'd been upset, but that's all I could remember. I tried to reassure myself that maybe the meeting was just going longer than planned, but my agitation continued to grow as I returned to pacing.

By nine o'clock I knew something was wrong. Edward would have left the meeting before it ended rather than cause me this much distress. But what could possibly be keeping him? I pulled the door open and walked out to the treeline. It was too dark for me to see into the trees, but I kept still on the off-chance I'd be able to hear him coming.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. There was something out there, something bad. I had no idea how I knew, but I was sure of it. I took a couple of steps backward, toward the cabin, keeping my eyes on the dark trees in front of me. Part of me knew I should go back inside, but all I could think of was Edward. Where was he? Was he safe?

Something crashed in the woods off to the east. It sounded like a tree falling, and was rapidly followed by another crash. Whatever was happening, it was far away enough that I couldn't hear any other noises, just the enormous crashes of giant trees. More came, and then more, this time closer and to the south. I tried to make sense of what I was hearing, but I couldn't. There weren't any animals in the forest big enough to be making these noises, and the crashes weren't accompanied by the buzz of saws – and who in their right mind would be sawing down trees at night?

A scream rose from the woods then, and I stepped back again, my heart pounding. Another scream, and then a third one that sounded like the cry an animal makes when it's dying, horrible and high-pitched. I felt my stomach drop and I was frozen in place as the woods returned to silence. Whatever had happened was over.

If Edward had been involved, he should be back any second, but still he didn't come. I scanned the treeline, hoping to catch any sign of movedent, however small, but there was nothing – nothing but the occasional shift of branches or fluttering of leaves.

"Edward," I whispered, saying aloud the mantra I'd been repeating in my head for the last half-hour, "come back. Come back to me."

What was that? Something moved in the woods, something about twenty feet inside the trees. It moved again, coming closer. It was about the right size and shape to be Edward, but there was something wrong with the way it was moving. It was too slow, too clumsy. Oh my god, Edward was hurt.

"Edward!" I ran into the woods until I reached him. My eyes had adjusted enough to the night that I could see he was badly injured. His left arm was mangled and he had a huge gash on his right shoulder. He was breathing in gasps and seemed to be struggling to stay upright. I wrapped my arms around his waist and tried to help him move toward the cabin.

"Stupid girl," he coughed, his voice hoarse. "What are you doing out here?"

"Helping my crazy man. Now come on."

We made it to the cabin and Edward collapsed onto his chair while I brought a lamp over to check his wounds. They looked really bad, all of them filthy and oozing venom.

"What do I do, Edward? Should I clean them?"

He looked down at his shoulder. "Please."

I ran to the kitchen and got a towel wet at the sink. My hands were shaking and I took a breath, trying to compose myself. I had to be calm. I had to help Edward.

When I returned to him, I gently eased off his shirt and wiped as delicately as I could at his injuries. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

He shook his head.

"What happened?"

"Another vampire." It seemed difficult for him to speak, so I didn't ask him anything for the next few minutes while I worked. I was pretty sure I could figure out the rest, anyway. Edward had told me once that different vampires had different levels of strength, and that the only way to destroy one was to rip it into pieces. He'd obviously fought this other vampire, and thank god he'd been the stronger one.

As I continued wiping, Edward's skin began to heal itself. I watched in amazement as his cleaned wounds slowly began to close, and let out a huge sigh of relief. He was going to be okay. I smiled and glanced up at him, about to tell him so, but something was still wrong. He was losing consciousness.

"Edward," I shook him lightly. "Edward!"

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong? Your wounds are healing, but you're getting worse."

"I am?" He didn't seem to know what I was talking about.

Oh, this wasn't good. Not good at all. He was the only one who knew how to heal himself, and he if wasn't able to tell me what to do, then he might die right before my eyes whether he'd been ripped apart or not.

"Look at me, Edward." I took his face in my hands and got his attention. His eyes had a far-away look but at least he was listening. "You're getting worse. What do I do? What do you need?"

It seemed to take him a few seconds to figure it out. "Blood," he finally answered, looking down at his shoulder again. "I've lost too much venom." He made a movement to get up. "I have to go to the farm." He collapsed back into the chair, his eyes closed.

I didn't even think twice about what I did next. Edward's life was at stake, and there was no way he was fit to travel to the dairy farm, no way I was able to run out and catch an animal for him. Instead I ran back to the kitchen and got a knife. I closed my eyes and made a quick sweep with the knife, letting it fall to the floor when I was done and hurrying back to Edward.

"Here. Drink." I held my palm up to his face, but he didn't respond.

"Edward!" I could hear the panic in my voice as I shook him again, not gently this time. "Wake up!"

His eyelids fluttered, and I held my hand up again, this time bringing to his mouth.

"Drink, Edward, please!"

His mouth opened slightly and I felt him begin to suck. I perched on his knee, watching him as he sucked again. His eyes opened and he frowned, realizing what was happening. He tried to pull away, but I shook my head and pushed my hand more firmly to his mouth. He didn't argue this time and sucked again, keeping his eyes on mine.

It didn't hurt. I really couldn't feel anything but a gentle sucking. But even if it had hurt, I wouldn't have cared. All that mattered was that with each swallow his eyes were getting more lucid. He brought one hand up to my arm, helping me hold it up, and brought his other arm around my waist, pulling me closer. We kept our eyes on each other's as he drank, and I smiled as I caught the first emotion he'd given off since returning. I shook my head in response. He didn't need to thank me for anything.

After another minute or two, I felt him stop and lick my cut closed

"Did you get enough?" I didn't feel light-headed or weak, or anything. I felt fine.

Instead of answering, he pulled me into his arms and held me tightly, his head pressed to mine. His emotions were back in full force, and his love and gratitude had never been stronger. He brought a hand up to my hair and kissed my head, then cupped my chin and lifted my face.

"I'm sorry," he finally said.

I could feel his remorse and it puzzled me, seeming out of proportion to the circumstances. It wasn't his fault he'd had to fight another vampire, especially if it had been one that drank human blood and was near the cabin.

"For what?"

He swept his thumb over my cheek. "I told you once that I'd never change you without your permission."

"What are you talking about?" Was he still not quite all together?

"Your blood."

"What about it?"

"It has venom in it."

A/N: Pat yourselves on the back, those of you who guessed it!