Once Bitten Twice Shy Chapter 25/?

Author: Lifelesslyndsey

Category: Twilight

Pairing: Bella x Peter

Summary: Clinging to Angel ideals, trapped in a vampire body, with very human urges. He was very confused. Peter was an indecisive vampire with an identity crisis. Bella was jaded and self-isolated. In short they were perfect for each other.

Rating: Mature audiences only for Language & Lemons

Word Count: 3, 482

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Beta of my heart, VampishVixen, who always seems to be there when I need her

A/N Okay, so this chapter was like stupid hard to write. I actually wrote 3k of it twice, and just fricking scrapped it, until I came up with this, which I'm not 100% happy with, but it is what it is. It's going to feel a little rushed, but thats just the way the story goes, so please don't be mad at me. Also, if you are unhappy with the way this chapter ends, and you probably will be, don't give up on me yet! There is more to come! There is still FIVE MORE CHAPTERS of OBTS.

Peter POV

"You're wearing contacts," Bella said abruptly. "Why the hell are you wearing contacts?"

The harmonized orchestra of 'what?' echoed in the room, as every pair of eyes snapped to his righteousness, the First-Son. Edward flinched beneath the weighty glare of his entire family, eyes darting to the floor in the darkness. "I made a mistake."

Yeah, that much was fucking clear. His shifty fucking attitude made more sense now, how hard it was to look the weasely little bastard in the eye. I wondered how he was avoiding his family, for they all seemed so clearly surprised.

"What do you mean, you made a mistake?" Carlisle asked, as if it wasn't obvious. I slipped my hand into Bella's, tugging her against me as we watched a train wreck in our honeymoon suite.

Jasper growled, stepping forward with a lethal stride. "It means that our Eddie's been monopolizing on the Earthquake victims," he sneered. "Eddie likes his Haitians like James Bond likes his martinis. Shaken, not stirred."

"Jasper," Esme chastised, but Jasper just scoffed.

"Whatever. I'm sure this ain't the first time your boy's pulled this shit, it's just the first time y'all caught him. Serves the little bastard right, he's been sitting a little too high on that pedestal as of late."

Bella trembled in my arms, hair sticking to her temples with sweat. "I think there was something wrong with those waffles. I feel like crap," she whispered against my chest, shaking fingers curled into the waistband of my jeans.

Wrapping my arms around her, I held her close. "It's probably the stress. This shit is crazy, you don't need this."

"Yeah," she agreed, laying her sleepy cheek against my shoulder. "I just want to get back to the honeymoon we didn't plan. When the fuck we sign up to play Dr. Phil for Vampires? They can take there drama elsewhere."

"I'm very sorry dear," Esme said softly, her golden eyes solemn. "This isn't exactly how we expected this to turn out." Bella shrugged; neither of us had much to say on the matter besides 'get the fuck out'.

Edward's eyes flickered up from the floor, panic etched in every inch of him. Jasper was right, the little fucker deserved what he got. "Jasper..."

"No," Jasper cut him off, shaking his head as his family watched. "If you got the balls to be a bastard to me, Eddie, don't think I won't fight back. You talk a lot of shit, calling me and Peter monsters, but it ain't nothing other than your own guilt, right? Y'all know I do my best, know I fight the very nature that was beaten into me. But you, Eddie boy? You step out like this once a fucking decade, like a seven-year-itch. Yeah I know, I've always known. But I understood, you know? I get that it's hard; I never said a fucking word. But you're all up in here on your fucking high horse, and I'm sick of it."

"Is that true, bro?" The largest of the Cullen clan asked. "How long?"

Edward didn't answer, just continued to stare into the carpet. "As long as you've known him," I supplied. My answer was proven in the tensing of Edward's body, hands balled at his side.

Emmett scowled, looking all the more menacing for it. "All that shit you gave me when I slipped up in the forties? I was barely out of my newborn years, and you're pulling this shit now? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Emmett dear, you know we don't blame you for that. You were very young," Esme said gently, laying a tiny palm on his arm. It seemed to be enough, as he threw her a smile, shrugging it off like it was nothing.

"Sorry mom," Emmett replied. "It's just...you know I had a hard time getting through that, and Edward didn't let me off easy. Bastard."

"Is this true, son?" Carlisle cut in, his voice carrying over all others. "Was this intentional?"

"It's never intentional," Edward replied quietly. "I never set out for it to happen. It just...happens."

"Intentionally?" Carlisle asked. "Or does it just happen as means to avoid Alice seeing it?" Edward cringed, but said nothing, and Carlisle pressed on. "This is why you disappear every decade for a few months?"

"I didn't want you to see me like this," Edward replied. "I'm ashamed."

"You should be," Esme replied coldly. "This is not the way we raised you, Edward Anthony. We would have helped you, forgiven you, should you have asked for it. It's almost as if you don't regret what you do."

"Peter."

"Oh he regrets it," Jasper sneered. "But that doesn't make it right."

"Peter."

"Regret is the first step in asking for forgiveness," Carlisle offered. "We're a family, and if Edward wants our help, then he has…" Carlisle fell silent, his golden eyes fading to an instant, stormy black.

"Peter!" The scent hit me faster than the panicked sound of her voice, staining the air with bleach and lavender. Her hand clenched in mine as she stumbled backwards, hand cupped over her face.

"No!" Alice snapped, hooking a tiny arm around Jasper. "You have to go Jasper. Go!"

"Every one out, now!" I said at once, pulling Bella behind me as she cupped her nose, bitter blood spilling into her palm like a fucking geyser. The girl really had a knack for timing. "Out!"

"Peter, Peter! Shit, shit, get me something!" Bella rasped, both hands pressed against her nose and mouth. Her lips and chin were striped with blood, sticky red rivets running down her forearm, and dripping from her elbows. I watched the color leech from her skin, steadying her at the waist when she began to shake.

"It's okay, it's going to be okay." I whispered, feeling her blood smear across my arms. I held my breath and ignored the warm seeping into my skin. "We'll get you to a hospital. It'll be okay."

"There's no time," Carlisle said at once, ghosting through the double-doors and into the bedroom. He returned with a damp towel as Esme shut the balcony doors, ushering her children out the window. "Catch her!" he snapped as Bella crumpled forward, eyes rolling into the back of her head. "Keep her upright, or she'll choke. Where are her pills?"

"Her purse," I replied, propping her up on the couch, pressing the towel to her face. The white cotton terry-cloth stained first pink, then red, until it was heavy with her blood. "We have to get her to a hospital. They helped her last time; they can help her."

"There is no time!" Carlisle snapped, losing every ounce of his cool demeanor. "She's dying."

"No."

"She is," he replied, shifting through the army of orange bottles lining the side table. "Whether it's now or later, I can't tell. Keep her head up, or it will drip back into her throat and make her throw up. Do you know what these are for?"

My mind barely registered the words, to ready to refuse any accusation. Bella wasn't dying, she wasn't. "They're antidepressants, sleeping pills, and stuff. And some of them are for the clotting disorder."

"And the autoimmunity. But there are others," he plucked a bottle from the line up. "This is for Haematemesis."

"What?" My mind wrapped around the word, running slow and sluggish in its refusal to believe what was right before my eyes. "Hema...hema what? Bella's never puked blood."

"Because she takes her medication," He said, clearly irritated. "This one is for the nose bleeds, but it isn't working, or she didn't take it."

"She said she wasn't sick, that it wouldn't kill her" I said, almost to myself. "She promised."

"By themselves, none of these are lethal. The clotting disorder is concerning, and the Haematemesis is actually a symptom of something else. It's the autoimmunity that concerns me." He stared at the bottles for a long moment. "This looks a lot like Hemophagocytic lymphohistiocytosis."

"Do you honestly think I know what the fuck that is?" I growled. Had I been able to think clearly, I would have no doubt known, but I couldn't think. Bella laid lifelessly across the couch; the rise and fall of her chest the only thing keeping me anywhere near sane. The nose bleed had tapered off to a low trickle, bleeding a slow path through the thick dried blood that caked her skin. "Come on Doc, I'm losing it." I wiped at it in vain with a clean corner of the towel, smearing rusty stains across her cheeks.

Crouching before her, Carlisle felt for her pulse, pressing cool fingertips against her blood stained wrists. Wiping the blood on his grey slacks, he peeled back her eyelids, watching as her pupils dilated lightly in the dim light.

"There are symptoms. Fever, lethargy, jaundice, enlargement of the..." He lifted her shirt to expose her abdomen, pressing gently into the soft muscles, and frowned. "Enlargement of the spleen. It leads to lymphocytosis and histiocytosis, which explains the autoimmunity and the blood clotting. " He sighed, leaning back on his heels. "She's already in the stages of Hemophagocytosis." Without blinking, he licked a stray droplet of her blood from his knuckle, grimacing. "Her blood is killing her."

"No. No...just. No. She said she wasn't dying. She promised me!" I was pretty sure that the good doctor wasn't fucking getting it. Bella wasn't dying. She wasn't. Fuck.

Carlisle's look was pitying. "It's possible when she said it that she didn't believe she was, Peter. The disease is fickle, there's no promise of death. It isn't the Hemophagocytic lymphohistiocytosis that's killing her. It's the inability to fight infection. Did she take her medication today?"

"I don't know, I was out with Jasper." Snatching her purse from the table, I dug within it until my fingers brushed the familiar worn-plastic Dracula. "It's full. She hasn't taken anything today."

"She's breathing, and her heart rate has slowed," Carlisle replied quietly, peeling the soaking wet towel from my hands. "I believe that some kind of pathogen was introduced into her body recently. Maybe today. At this stage of the disease, it wouldn't take more then a few hours to send her body into shock without the medication. Without it, she was unable to fight off the infection. It would explain the nose bleeds, they're common in autoimmunity diseases. It could have been from anything. The bathroom, the room service. The cat."

Peen growled at Carlisle, moving to curl around Bella's ankle in silent protest. It wasn't the cat, of course. Hayyel's animals were as perfect as any angel, incapable of contracting disease or illness. It was obvious he resented the comment.

"She got a nose bleed when I met her," I said almost absently, piecing together a picture I hadn't yet formed. "The pharmacy tech was disgusting. Bella washed her hands though; actually she washed everything, constantly. She got another one, a really bad one after we visited the Wolf Pack in Forks. That was...that was after Walter Freedmont! She was in his vile fucking house, no wonder she got so fucking sick. They increased her medication. She's been sleeping so much more lately, and I've woken her up completely drenched in sweat. "

"She's building a resistance to it, or rather the disease is spreading,"he informed me solemnly. "Given enough time, the medication will be ineffective."

"So...there's no fighting this?"

"There are plenty of premeditated measures one can take. As you said, Bella kept things clean. Increased hygiene and sterilization, special diets are part of the regimen. Victims of this disease also tend to be come rather introverted, limiting their contact without others as a means to prevent possible infection. With this level of autoimmunity, a cold would feel more like pneumonia, and pneumonia would kill her." Carlisle smiled sadly. "If any one was going to fight it, it would be Bella. Go get washed up, and I'll see if I can get any of these pills in her."

"I'm not leaving her," I replied petulantly. "I want to be here when she wakes. She needs me here."

Carlisle smiled tiredly this time, his patience wearing thin. "She shouldn't wake for a while, Peter. And she doesn't care for blood. Let's clean her up, and then you need to go get cleaned up, okay? You haven't been breathing, if you continue to stifle yourself, your other senses will accommodate, and it will cause acute panic and distress. You're already feeling panicky, I can tell. I hardly think I need to inform you that a Vampiric panic attack is not a pleasant thing. You're of no use to Bella like this; we need to clean the blood."

"Okay," I replied slowly. "Her bag is in the bedroom, at the foot of the bed. There's probably some pajamas in there."

He returned with the bag and a new damp cloth "I've seen Bella indisposed before," he said with a wry smile as I glared at him. "I've treated her more times then I care to count."

"As wonderful as that is, would you turn around?" I asked stiffly. "I doubt Bella would appreciate being manhandled in the buff by you if I am here and perfectly capable of doing it."

"Of course," Carlisle replied amicably. "I only meant to assuage you of any ill ease. My intentions towards Bella are purely fatherly."

"I'm sure they are," I said lightly, wiping gently at the ribbons of blood that stained her arms. "You'll have to forgive me if I'm not in the most gracious of moods. I just found out that my entire reason for living is dying before my eyes and I can't do shit about it."

Carlisle shifted slightly, his shoulders drawn tight. "Bella was once...assenting to the idea that she might join our kind. It is an option."

"I'd change her in a fucking heart beat," I growled. "Don't you think I'd do that if I could?"

"I think today has proven that your control is iron clad," Carlisle replied. "Do you not trust yourself?"

"I would never hurt Bella," I replied quietly, peeling away her blood soaked clothes. "I couldn't hurt her if I tried. I live for her, and nothing else. There is nothing else for me. Before I met her, I wasn't alive, I was existing. I could never hurt her. But I can't do it. I can't."

To my surprise, and gratitude, Carlisle asked no questions. "I could do it."

My hands pulled the white cotton shirt over Bella's head mechanically as my head reeled with the possibility. "You would do that?" I asked, tugging at Bella's ratty sweat-pants.

"It would not be the first time I had considered it, to be honest," he replied. "It had been my intentions once upon a time to induct Bella into the family properly. I know that isn't an option now, but I would still do it, should she ask."

"I'd never turn her without her permission," I agreed at once, dropping her sweats on the floor. I slid the clean pair of sleep pants over her ankles, then calves, tugging them until they were snug around her waist. "She's dressed."

Carlisle turned and gathered Bella's bloody clothes from the floor. "Go on now, I'll take care of her." He promised, all but shooing me from the room.

xXxXxXx

I watched the water drain at my feet, swirls of pink and crystal. I couldn't fucking do this. This couldn't be happening.

"You realize that it would not be difficult to alter the Order to include others changing Bella as well, yes?" Gabriel said, standing beside me in the walk-in shower.

"Wouldn't that be toeing the line of Free Will?" I asked, too drained to be startled by his sudden presence.

Gabriel shrugged wings, feathers shifting and defying all laws of physics and reality in the small space. "These are not humans which we speak of. As you well know, the Free Will of vampires has always been adjusted to accommodate Fate." His pointed look was not lost on me as he slid against the wall, pressing his palm against my back. My wings shuddered, tearing silently through my iron flesh. I bit back a growl as pain ripped through my body, my flesh pulling tight where my wings had torn through. "Stop fucking with fate, Micha. We are not amused."

Rolling my shoulders, I bared my teeth at him, shaking the water from my lashes. "You think I'm doing this to piss you off? I love her Gabriel, a concept you cannot understand! It's not like loving Dad. It's on a whole different plane, and I can't continue without her. Not in the Host or with Brotherhood, and not here on Earth. I can't be without her, I just can't!"

"Oh Micha," he said softly, pulling me against his dry, fully clothed body. "We are not made to love like this. We are not built to feel as humans feel."

"What happens if the vampire changes her?" I asked, pulling free from his arms. "What happens to me?"

"We will not alter the order," Gabriel replied. "We hope you will make the right choice, brother. Should Bella be changed by your hand or at your request, the sentence stands. You will be banned from the Heavens, and hunted by your own kind." He took my hand in his, commingled grace tingling through my fingers. "No one wants that, brother."

"I'd give up Heaven and the Host for her," I said with a desperate kind of finality. "I'd give up my wings and my soul for one more day."

Gabriel's angelic facade faded away, as his eyes became pleading. "Please, I am begging of you, not as an angel or a Messenger, but as a friend, as your brother, Micha. Please don't do this. God has a plan! You must trust it, it is the way!"

"His way is to take Bella from me," I replied with a choked sob.

Gabriel sighed, squeezing my hand as his wings brushed against mine. "No one knows the way of God, Gabriel. Not even you. No one knows the plan."

I laughed darkly, looking up into the eyes of God's Messenger himself. "God spares no love for me today."

"God loves all his creatures," Gabriel reminded me. "Even the darkest. You know that."

"I know nothing of the kind."

xXxXxXx

Bella was curled over the edge of the bed, vomiting dark red blood when I left the bathroom. Carlisle's eyes snapped to mine, speaking in nothing but a whisper, barely heard over the splashing sound of blood hitting the bottom of the ice-bucket. "It's worse than I thought."

"Peter," Bella wheezed, whipping her cherry stained lips on the back of her hand, leaving smears of red. "I'd offer to kiss you, but Carlisle said I taste terrible."

"Probably from the increased white cells. Your far too bitter for my taste," Carlisle replied, appeasing Bella's need to joke. "That was all your medication, I'm afraid. I suggest you attempt to eat something, then take a new dose."

"Of course, Carlisle." Bella lied, settling herself back into the couch. Peen hopped down from the armrest, curling into her lap. "Peter, stop it."

"What?" I felt my feet hit the floor at once, and ignored Carlisle's strange look.

"He floats when he's upset," Bella explained flippantly. "Peter."

"Bella..."

Carlisle interrupted smoothly, fishing a card from the pocket of his red stained jacket. He was covered in blood, his pale face splattered, fresh and wet. It was something out of a horror movie, really. A movie where he wasn't the monster, just another guy who gets gutted and hung up by his intestines in some back-woods barn. Movies never got it right.

"I'll leave you two to talk, apparently there is much to say. I think it would be best if I hunted. As solid as my control is, it is rare that I have blood projectile vomited down my front." He dropped the card on the table, casting Bella one last smile before disappearing off the balcony.

"Can you carry me to the bedroom?" Bella asked, looking up from the horror-scene that was the couch. The carpet squelched beneath my feet, no doubt from when Bella missed the bucket. "I'm too tired to walk."

"Of course you're too tired," I replied, fear and panic shattering my voice. "You just puked half your weight in blood."

"I think there was some waffle in there too," she replied, looping her arms around my neck. "We gotta talk, don't we?

"Yeah, we gotta talk."

A/N Please don't shank me yet! I won't leave you hanging like last time. This chapter was really, really hard to right! There just wasn't a good enough segue between asshole Edward (which we hear about again later, the subject isn't closed) and desperately ill Bella. So, yeah. Let's not kill the Lyndsey.

Oh, and also? Hemophagocytic lymphohistiocytosis is a real disease. There isn't much known about it, except that it's genetic. I thought I was gonna have to make this shit up, but hell no, Wiki helped a girl out.