Chapter Twenty Five

The Choice

"Death is more universal than life; everyone dies but not everyone lives." – A Sachs

The days had dwindled down, the time had slipped through the hourglass, and finally, we were facing the final hours. As I stared across the room at Edward and Eric, each one positioned on an opposite side of the window, I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. Would the both survive, or would they both be killed? The very thought of losing either of them was too much to bear, and I tried to refocus on something else.

Since the arrival of the Denali coven, spirits had been high—even the McRaes were much more positive—but I could see they were all still worried. Even though the five vampires added to our numbers, we were still lacking. According to Alice, the newborns would be attacking with the Zions, which meant their creator was working with the Pure Ones. Who was it? Who was making these newborn vampires? Too many questions; not enough answers.

I was also disappointed my illness had decided to take a turn for the worse. Carlisle had placed me on bed rest until the battle. Normally, I would have fought his diagnosis, but seeing how I could hardly stand up, I decided to be compliant. So, there I sat, wrapped up in blankets, drinking an endless supply of hot tea, and sporadically coughing up gallons of phlegm. I'd never felt so disgusting in my life. As I fumbled with the mug of tea in my hands, I felt my stomach twist again, only this time it had absolutely nothing to do with death or destruction. As if on cue, the tea was out of my hands, a cool palm was rubbing my back, and a small, metal waste basket was placed in front of me. I had only a few seconds to ponder what I was feeling before my insides purged themselves.

"Here you go, love," Edward said softly, handing me a glass of water.

The water slipped down my scratchy, raw throat violently, but it still felt relatively good. While Edward carried the soiled trash can away, Eric brought a wet washcloth to my face and cleaned the grossness from my chin and lips. When it had become apparent that I wasn't getting better, the two of them had joined forces and become my caregivers. While there was still a large amount of confusion, I was happy they were somewhat getting along.

There was a knock at the door, and all three of us turned to find Esme and Melena in the doorway, trays of food in hand. My stomach growled, although I couldn't smell any of the food they had brought, and I waved them forward. Over the past week, Melena and Esme had grown significantly close. The Cullen matriarch was such a compassionate person, and Melena found it easy to open up to her about … everything. After one afternoon, Esme had learned about Argos, Aryana, their deaths, and everything else that made Melena who she was. I'd learned all this second hand from Edward, though; Esme refused to betray anyone's confidence.

As they moved into the room, I noted the subtle changes in Melena. Her expression was softer, and she had a small smile on her lips. She looked noticeably happier.

I ate the soup and sandwich quickly, letting Esme know how grateful I was in between bites, and was finished in less than five minutes. As I lay back against the pillows, I felt my stomach grumble its thanks, and I hoped I wouldn't throw up again.

As I lay there, trying to focus on anything except the gross feeling in my head and lungs, Eric started laughing. It wasn't long before Edward joined in, and I glared at both of them.

"Care to share?" I crossed my arms over my chest. "What's so funny?"

"Tanya's going after Avarice again," Eric said. "She's been pursuing him since yesterday, and frankly, she's starting to scare him. It's … entertaining."

"Thank god it's him and not me," Edward commented. "I've been the object of her personal torture for years. It's refreshing to be within ten miles of her and not have her thinking of undressing me."

I frowned and tried not to make my discomfort obvious. The idea of a beautiful, blonde vampire lusting after Edward was doing new things to my stomach, which combined with the nausea, wasn't helping me at all. I knew it was a bit hypocritical of me, what with everything going on with Eric and Edward, but I couldn't help how I felt. As I stewed, I made a point not to say anything; I didn't want to make Edward feel bad.

Regardless of how negative I felt toward Tanya, I couldn't help feeling grateful that she was distracting Avarice. Even if he was just a play thing for her; it would help him forget about Skye. I also had to admit, the thought of straight-edge, serious Avarice being bugged by a woman was a funny image.

I'd called Charlie earlier on in the day and was glad when Sue Clearwater had answered the phone. We talked for a good twenty minutes on how Charlie was doing, what was going on with Jake and Leah, and just life on the reservation in general. I hadn't been back since I had picked up my truck after my dad was admitted into the hospital. To be honest, I was still upset with the wolves for deciding to stay out of the battle, which had probably fueled my choice to stay away from La Push. I tried my best to curb my hostility when Sue said Leah and Jake were planning on having a double wedding with Sam and Emily. I had congratulated her, and asked her to relay my well wishes to the happy couples. It wasn't Sue's fault, after all.

Charlie had sounded tired. His voice was husky and low; I had to struggle to hear what he was saying. However, on the plus side, he was eating, and although the doctor advised against it, he was moving around. My father and I were similar; we didn't like to be treated like invalids. He had also found my current predicament rather hilarious, even if he did frown on me staying under the same roof as Edward. All in all, hearing from my dad had made me feel better.

As another round of coughs hit me, I bent over at the waist and covered my mouth with my hand. Another glass was thrust into my hand; another palm started rubbing my back. The repetitiveness of it all was getting on my nerves.

After a few hours, Lazarus came to sit with me, which I was grateful for. I hadn't had any alone time with him since the incident with Skye. Although I couldn't begrudge him for tending to his brother, I was happy to have him to myself. There was something about him presence that calmed me. Maybe it was the fact that he wanted nothing more from me than friendship, or maybe it was his history with Ary. I wasn't sure, and frankly, I didn't care. As he nestled beside me in bed, I found myself leaning against him unconsciously.

"What's the best case scenario for tomorrow?" I asked absentmindedly. I wasn't exactly sure where the question came from, but I couldn't bring myself to regret asking it. From what the McRaes and the Cullens were telling me, the battle would be costly. Someone was going to die. The question on everyone's mind: who would it be?

"The other side suffers more losses than we do," Lazarus answered. "To be honest, Bella, I'm not entirely sure what to expect anymore. The Denalis will help us, but I can't determine whether it will be enough."

"Everything will be fine," I said, more to myself than him. "It has to be."

"I wish I shared your optimism." He frowned, his brow creasing deeply, and sighed. "I don't wish to bring you down, Bella—just ignore me."

"It's kind of hard to when you say things like that," I answered honestly, shaking my head. "Do you really have such a negative outlook on this? I mean, don't you have any hope?"

He smiled ruefully. "My hope left with her."

"I can't even begin to know what you've gone through, Lazarus. You, Dante, Melena, all of you, have seen so much death and destruction, it's amazing you haven't completely hollowed out. But, I want to remind you that you're not alone. None of you are. I know you've never adequately warmed to the Cullens, but they're here for you. I'm here for you. I didn't know her half as long as you, but I'm fairly certain Ary wouldn't have wanted you to give up hope. She would have wanted you to fight… and live."

"I know, Bella," he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I've heard it from many others."

I couldn't really blame him for feeling the way he did; trying to get over Edward had been next to impossible, and I'd had to do it twice. The first had been when the McRaes had been in town, and the second had followed when they had left. Each time, I'd had someone to help me through the transition. The first time, Eric had helped me; the second time, Jacob had helped me. Of course, I had been acting under the assumption that Edward had never loved me. Lazarus had known Ary had loved him, even if they had been at odds toward at the end; they had, literally, hundreds of years of happiness. Surely that had counted for something.

"Why can't you move on?" I'm not sure where the question came from, or whether it was appropriate or not, but I didn't regret it. After much hesitation, I had started to move on from Edward. True, I had still loved him, but I was willing to move forward with my life, even if it would have been a half life. It almost seemed as if Lazarus had given up… like he was just taking up space.

"This world holds no meaning for me, Bella," he answered, and there was a firm resolution in his eyes. This was not something that was up for debate; there would be no swaying him. "Don't look at me like that—I've tried, I really have. There's just nothing left in here"—he gestured to his chest—"I'm all but empty now. Every reaction you see, every emotion, is rehearsed and mimicked. I'm just so… tired of it all."

"Tired?"

"I'm tired of holding it all in for the sake of others," he explained. "I'm sick of withdrawing for the protection of the world. I can't tell you how much I want to scream and shout, how angry I wish I could get, but I… can't." He rose from the bed and moved to the window. "There's a part of me… a dark part that wishes I could just let go, destroy everything around me, but I won't. I'm sorry if it's frightening, but this is simply how I feel."

I reined in my shock, trying to keep my face neutral, but couldn't find an adequate response. As I stared at him, I realized something that he hadn't said. It was written all over his face, and I didn't need Edward's ability to confirm it. Lazarus had no plan for after the battle; he had no intention of being alive after it. The thought was abhorred to me, especially with how close we had grown. How could he abandon me like that? What was he thinking? However, I stopped that line of thinking immediately; this wasn't about me. This had never been about me; it had only ever been about him. He wanted to see Ary again, and in that desire, he had planned his own death.

I couldn't find it in me to be mad at him, as much as I wanted to be. I was simply… sad.

"Do they know… that you don't plan on surviving?" Did the rest of his family know of his choice? Did they approve, or were they vehemently against it?

Seeing beyond my words as usual, Lazarus understood. "Yes."

"Do they agree?"

"It wouldn't matter if they didn't," he answered. "However, the majority of them do. Melena and Dante have their own agreement worked out with my brother. I won't dive into the details, but I'm fairly certain you can guess what it entails."

"Poor Avarice," I commented absentmindedly. "He'll be alone."

"I wouldn't have made this choice if I believed that. It appears he'll have a companion for quite some time now. Although he doesn't know it yet, she is just what he needs. She will help him heal."

I started to ask who he was talking about, but it dawned on me; Tanya. Although Edward and Eric had laughed over her affection for him, Lazarus knew better. Her feelings were genuine, chaste, and pure. According to Lazarus, she was Avarice's other half, the calming presence he so desperately required. When his family was gone, she would be there for him; she would be his constant. Seeing her come into his life had eased Lazarus's worries.

"I wish you wouldn't," I said honestly. "But, I know why you feel this is necessary. I've been there."

"You have to promise me something, Bella. Promise me, no matter what happens, you'll look after Erickson. He's young compared to the rest of us, and he's suffered so much. He thinks no one noticed how hard her passing hit him, but he's wrong. We all saw it, but there was nothing we could do for him. Please, don't let him drown. You're the only one who's been able to reach him. You'll be all he has in the end. Don't let him fall."

I sighed, feeling the weight of the choice I had yet to make rest on my shoulders, but I pushed it away. "I will, I promise."

"And promise me one more thing?" I nodded. "Don't mourn for those whose time has come. Everything will be all right in the end. You will live and be happy."

I nodded, sniffling a little bit and trying to keep the tears from falling. Wanting to redirect my attention, I spouted off the first thing that came to mind. "Tell me about them… the Zion Guard."

This caught him by surprise, and he quickly narrowed his eyes. "What would you like to know?"

"Everything," I all but growled. "I want to know what we're up against."

"All right." He nestled in beside me. "The head of the Zion Guard is Zador, someone you've seen. He was the giant one from the memory I shared with you. He has no hair on his head, and he almost always looks angry over one thing or another. He's the most vicious of the Guard—his name actually means 'violent one.' He's a skillful fighter, cunning and strong, and it's those reasons why he is also Bane's bodyguard when he travels."

"Who's Bane? I've heard you talk about him before, but you've never told me who he is." I had remembered seeing him in Lazarus's thoughts, but I never rightly understood who he was.

Lazarus's features went dark. "Bane is the leader of the Pure Ones. He's an extreme traditionalist, and extremely Old Testament, if that makes sense to you. He hates everything, with the exception of himself, and he rules with an iron fist. He was also in the vision, remember? He was the one who sentenced Yana and Argos to death."

I thought back and immediately remembered who he was speaking of.

"Chavis is the second in command," Lazarus continued. "You remember him, as well, yes?" I nodded. "He's a tracker in a sense, although it isn't necessarily a special ability. He's fine tuned his senses over the years, and he's able to follow a scent, even if it's almost gone. "

For the next two hours, Lazarus educated me on the finer workings of the Zions—their names, their strengths, weaknesses, and what they look like. I knew what he was doing; he was preparing me. In case the following day went horribly awry, he wanted me to be as safe as possible. The thought of running from the Pure Ones was a frightening thought, but not as bad as the idea of losing the ones I loved.

The day came to a close, and although my body screamed for sleep, I just couldn't slip away. Edward and Eric took their turns, coming in and check on me. Whispered words were exchanged, reminders of happier times, and insistence that I not worry. Little by little, all the Cullens and McRaes came to speak with me… even Rosalie.

She took my hands in hers, and she smiled at me. "Bella, I don't want to… I don't want you to…" She took a deep breath and started again. "I'm glad I had a chance to know you, happy you've brought my brother out of his shell. Although I've never showed it, I do care about you."

When sleep eventually claimed me, my dreams were filled with endless scenarios. I saw the deaths of everyone I loved, but I also saw outcomes where they lived. Each time I stirred from my slumber, I wondered what would happen. Would we survive this? Would we all walk away unscarred? Or would this be the last of the Cullens and the McRaes? Would I be forced to flee?

The dizzying worries made me freak out, however, I smiled when an intense calm descended on me. I silently thanked Jasper and slipped off into dream land.

Author's Note: I'm sorry for filling your inbox with notifications. I just figured if I didn't get this all up now, I never would.