Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga and am not Stephenie Meyer.

A/N – Yes, it really did take this long. Yes, I apologize. And there's one more important thing. There are exactly TWO CHAPTERS left in "Twilight", which means about FOUR chapters of this story. O.O I didn't realize it was that close to the end! Oh my goodness!

NOTE: I would like to make a note of something that "vjd" very nicely informed me of: when Alice and Jasper knew that Bella had run, she read the note, and Edward heard it from her thoughts before the plane landed. That's something I didn't know about, and I have to confess, you guys: I'm lazy. I don't want to go back and revise what I wrote. So, if it bothers you a lot, you can ignore what I wrote, there, but I wanted you all to know the inaccuracy of the last chapter. Okay?

sundown21—I am not completely sure about my story of "New Moon" in Edward's point of view. The current working title is "Blue Moon" but I have yet to put it up. I'm going to have to finish this one first. And, to answer your other questions: yes, I'm a girl, and I'm sixteen at this point in time (2008).

I just realized that I haven't put what I'm listening to up here for so many chapters. Oops. :D Well, this time, I listened to "So What" by P!nk as I wrote this chapter. It's a pretty great song. :)

Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Lucid

She didn't answer when I called her name. But how could I expect her to, when she was in this state?

Her leg was twisted at an unnatural angle, her breathing coming rough and uneven into her lungs. Red marks on her skin bore evidence of soon-to-be bruises, and the glass mirrors of the room—cracked where she lay, and on the other side of the room—told me she had been tossed around.

But her blood…her blood was everywhere: on the floor underneath her head, slowly spreading across the wooden floor panels; staining the broken shards of the mirror; streaked across the floor. The red, viscous liquid tempted me, something I was ashamed to acknowledge.

However, I couldn't ignore the draw that her blood still had on me. I wanted to taste that… I shook my head, focusing desperately. This was Bella, Bella lying bleeding and broken on the floor of a dance studio. Bella, who was so still and pale that if not for the audibility of her heart, I would have thought her dead.

Faintly, behind me, I could hear Emmett and Jasper. Jasper was having difficulty leaving, but Emmett was right there with him, guiding my brother from the room. And Carlisle was sending up mental praises for Alice having the foresight to stash medical supplies in the car.

Alice felt relieved and guilty for that very same thing. This was the vision she had seen, which I was just learning of. She had seen Bella in this very situation before leaving the hotel room they had been staying in. I was just hearing of it, now. And the only thing that could reassure me was that Alice hadn't seen anything past this moment. She was too caught up—like me, like Carlisle and Emmett and Jasper—to think of scanning through the mists of the future for answers.

And I was stuck in my own terrible time warp, wanting desperately to hold Bella in my arms and yet being terrified of hurting her if I did. I called her name desperately. "Bella, please!" She wouldn't wake: she was unconscious…at least, I hoped that she was unconscious. A torrent of words poured from my lips as I begged for her to hear me, for her not to be dead. "Bella, listen to me, please, please, Bella, please!"

She didn't answer. "Carlisle!" I cried out, although I already knew that he was at the door to the studio. "Bella, Bella, no, oh please, no, no!" A pressure built up behind my eyes, a sensation I realized as the longing to cry. I wished that I could sob out my despair, but as a vampire I had to hold it in. I had no choice: I had no ability to cry, for everything else that my state of being had enabled in me.

My father came, appearing beside Bella and I in a flash. My mindless babbling scared them, but Carlisle concentrated his efforts on Bella. Alice had been sent to snatch the medical kit from her car. They had all been in the doorway just after I tore James away from her, witnessing that much before springing into action.

Carlisle yanked open the kit at his side. We have to stop the bleeding. His eyes flickered up to me. Edward can't do too much here. He reached forward, fingers lightly probing her head wound so that he could see the damage. Not that bad—

Her gasping, strangled cry startled me. I had thought she was unconscious, for she was so still—but at her cries, I knew she was awake. What's more, I knew she was alive. "Bella!"

Conscious. That's good. She might have a concussion, but I hope not. "She's lost some blood, but the head wound isn't that deep." My father spoke with a professional disinterest, his way of coping with treating Bella. She was too close to "family" already, what with our relationship.

Alice appeared beside him, and he said, "Watch out for her leg, it's broken." It looks like he stepped on it.

An enraged snarl broke through my lips. Alice moved around Bella's body, carefully not coming into contact with her at all, and squeezed my shoulders. She tried to offer some comfort, but it was hardly capable of easing any tension from my tight muscles. She'll be fine. I saw her fine. She will live. She'll be fine… The mantra gave me hope.

Carlisle's fingers now skimmed over her torso, and she inhaled sharply again. "Some ribs, too, I think," he added, his forehead creasing. It sounds like she can breathe still, for now at least. That's something to be thankful for.

Thankful? I knew he didn't mean it that way, but it still sent a sharp ripple of agony through me. I had been the cause of all of this, and for us to be glad that she could still breathe made me feel like I was the most terrible monster on earth. Which, of course, I was…

"E-Edward…" Her soft, angelic voice broke through to me immediately. Her head titled towards me slightly, and I could see her eyelashes fluttering.

I hastened to reassure her that I was there, even though I hesitated to touch her for fear of hurting her unintentionally. "Bella, you're going to be fine. Can you hear me, Bella?" I asked, feeling that pressure of nonexistent tears building up behind my eyes. "I love you," I told her, meaning it with every ounce of myself.

"Edward…" she repeated. Her throat sounded a little bit clearer, but a faint crease was appearing between her eyebrows.

"Yes, I'm here," I told her.

"It hurts."

Her whimper caused me to flinch, and I didn't even think. I took her hand in mine, relieved when she didn't flinch in pain, and held it in mine as lightly as I could. "I know, Bella, I know," I murmured to her. I turned away from her, my throat choked with anguish. "Can't you do anything?" Anything to stop her pain…

"My bag, please…" he motioned for Alice to hand it to him. She moved away from me, our contact breaking, and handed it to him before slipping up beside Bella's head. She sat there, rocking back and forth, wanting to help. She also possessed black eyes, which our father noticed. "Hold your breath, Alice, it will help." She did, instantly.

"Alice?" Bella groaned.

"She's here, she knew where to find you," I told Bella, stroking my thumb over the back of her hand.

"My hand hurts," she whispered.

I grimaced and released her hand, placing it gently on the floor. At least she could tell me that it was causing her pain, so that I could stop from doing it. "I know, Bella," I reassured her, now that she had told me. "Carlisle will give you something, it will stop."

But I was surprised by her reaction. "My hand is burning!" Her voice had risen to a shriek, and her eyes finally fluttered open. They were unfocused, and the blood on her face was inhibiting her ability to fully open her eyes and see. But her shriek had been so terrifying, I cared very little for the fact that she'd opened her eyes.

"Bella?" I asked, frightened.

"The fire! Someone stop the fire!"

Something in the back of my mind lit up at that. It sounded so strangely familiar—terrifyingly so. Her hand? I looked—actually looked—at the limb this time, and to my shock I realized that there was blood there, too. It was on my fingers. And…

My fingers closed on her wrist, bringing the limb closer to me. My eyesight was frighteningly precise, but I lifted her hand despite myself as I gawked at the wound. "Carlisle! Her hand!" I already knew what it was, but I wanted him to tell me I was wrong.

He didn't. No. "He bit her." Was it not enough to torture the girl by throwing her around the room? Did he have to bite her on top of that? Fiery agony on top of a beating?

My breath caught. No, I was right. This was a bite mark. This was a wound that James had left on my Bella, which…

…Which would eventually leave her immortal. A vampire. Like me.

The wound is so small, I know it won't be enough. Alice? Alice had known? She had reassured me that Bella would be fine. She had just told me that… There needs to be more venom, to speed up her transformation instead of letting it stretch out so long. I thought so. "Edward, you have to do it." My sister reached up to wipe blood from Bella's eyes, trying to offer her some comfort.

I felt frozen at her words and thoughts. How could something like this be happening? It was a nightmare, but I couldn't sleep, and that meant it was reality. How could this be happening? "No!" I couldn't lose her to this! I couldn't let her become immortal!

"Alice," Bella moaned, her body twisting at the pain.

Was that my only option? To increase her suffering? I couldn't do that to her. I could barely stand to be in this room when she was bleeding so freely, and it was a miracle that I was withstanding the temptation her blood offered. How could I bite through her skin and taste her blood, and pull away? And not just that: how could I bite her to change her into one of us, when I felt like the very idea would tear me apart?

She deserved life. She deserved more than me. Yet here she lay, broken on the floor, because she didn't realize that. Because she put herself in harm's way: because of me. How could I save her from the terrible fate of becoming a monster, like me?

As if he read my mind, Carlisle told me, "There may be a chance." It would be difficult, but he can't seem to stand the idea of letting her become one of us. And I know his philosophy—this is a nightmarish event for him.

I felt as if I was going to sob with relief. Another alternative? And Carlisle understood how I hated the idea of Bella becoming one of us! "What?"

"See if you can suck the venom out. The wound is fairly clean." Small stitches. If I get these in fast enough, it can staunch the blood flow from the head wound.

I blinked at him, hardly believing what I was hearing. Was he insane? It would have been hard enough to simply let venom flow from my mouth into her body, but to actually drink her blood in the effort to draw out the tracker's venom? That was mad, foolish in the extreme.

Alice was running out of air. "Will that work?" Does that satisfy you, Edward? You don't have to let her become one of us—not right now, at least. I ignored the last bit of her sentence, but it was her reassurance that made me listen to her. This can work, Edward. You can do it.

Carlisle misinterpreted her words as being for him. "I don't know. But we have to hurry." In theory, sucking the venom out will work as long as it hasn't flowed too far into her bloodstream yet.

I could see the theory in his head, the faint imagery in his mind's eye as he imagined the venom flowing backwards. I could see the assurance in Alice's mind as well, her determination that the faint vision she could see—me lifting my head from Bella's hand, her chest still moving with steady, shallow breath—and she directed reassurance at me. You can do it, Edward.

"Carlisle, I…" Despite her belief in me, I was loath to think that Alice was telling me the truth. The mind's imagery was forgeable, and I wouldn't put it past her to tell me anything to try and get me to act. I felt terribly guilty as I spoke aloud. "I don't know if I can do that." Could Carlisle do it for me? That was what I asked.

His voice was gentle. "It's your decision, Edward, either way." It should be hers, but she's not in the position to tell you right now. That makes it even more important to both of you. "I can't help you. I have to get this bleeding stopped here if you're going to be taking blood from her hand."

He was preparing a needle of morphine for her when Bella began to writhe more strongly, obviously affected by the venom. Her leg shifted and she cried out in pain. Then, "Edward!" She screamed. Her scrunched-closed eyes flew open, unfocused and yet latching onto my face seconds later.

I stared at her for what seemed to be the longest moment of my life. She was lying there on the floor, in agony and in more hurt than I'd ever wish on my worst enemy. And she was begging me for something, begging—but for what? For me to stop the fires of the venom? For me to make it end faster?

My father had noticed her leg move. "Alice, get me something to brace her leg!" She might damage it more if she keeps moving around like that. "Edward, you must do it now, or it will be too late." I don't mean to rush you to make a choice, but you have to make it.

There was no time for deliberation. There was no time for thinking, not anymore. I knew what I believed. I knew what I wanted.

The question now was whether I could do it. Did I really think I could handle this? Did I honestly believe that I could drink from Bella without killing her? Could I stop? Could I depend on my father and sister to stop me if I became lost in bloodlust?

I had to trust myself. But how could I trust myself when I was just a monster in the guise of something that my family, that Bella, thought was "good"?

No choice. Either she died at my hand—which would be unbearable—or she lost her soul to become what I was, which was possibly worse.

Not by much. But the margin of error was slim enough that it bolstered my determination.

I heard Alice sigh in relief, and yet some regret, as I locked my fingers around her bitten hand to keep her from moving it when I bit down. And I leaned my head down, placing my lips gently to her skin—then parting them, and allowing my razor-sharp teeth to sink through her thin, pale flesh over the same open wounds that the tracker had left on her hand.

Her blood was like an explosion of the sweetest-tasting wine within my mouth. I could taste every drop that slipped through my parched lips, and something inside me roared in triumph.

It was the sweetest substance I had ever tasted.

And a dim roar in my head gradually began to block out everything except the feeding pleasure that made my inner monster growl and purr in delight. I heard, vaguely, that Bella was crying out and screaming. I felt her thrashing, even though her hand stayed in place in my solid grip. I heard Alice speaking soothingly as she held Bella's leg to a yardstick she'd found, to keep the limb straight.

I heard Carlisle speaking to me as he held Bella's head, so that she didn't hurt herself more as she struggled in pain. It was my father's continuous warnings to me, his instructions and support, that made me focus on Bella. I focused.

It was a struggle unlike any other. I fought to keep from drinking too greedily, trying to tell myself to savor it. The monster inside of me was only half fooled—it believed that it should savor the sweet taste, yes, but it would still find a way to down it all despite my efforts to keep that from happening.

But slowly, slowly, I tasted the venom that was not mine slip to a few drops. I tasted her blood; cleared of venom and becoming infused with the morphine that Carlisle had given her.

It was in those last few moments before the drug that I almost lost myself again. I almost gave in to the purring delight in the back of my head, the monster that tempted me to just drink a little bit more, only a few more drops…

Alice screeched in my head. Edward—you love her! Be strong for her!

Carlisle encouraged me. You are in control enough, Edward. You can stop.

In my own mind, however, I could see Bella's face. I could see how she always blushed whenever she was embarrassed. I could see her beautiful smile. I could see that faint frown appearing on her forehead, a little crease. I saw her laughing, I saw her scowling, I saw her asleep… I saw Bella.

And, somehow—miraculously—I pulled my head away from her hand. I closed my lips over my teeth and inhaled deeply, gritting my teeth.

She'd stopped writhing, and her breathing was steady—shallow, but there. "Edward," I heard her breathe.

"He's right here, Bella," Carlisle told her. I didn't look up, although I felt his eyes on my face. I heard his mind. You did extremely well, all things considered. You did it.

I had, hadn't I? I wanted to jump to my feet, shout to the heavens that I had left her alive—that she was still human, because I managed not to kill her in the fury of a bloody obsession. I wanted to kiss her, smile with her, laugh—but she was still hurt, so terribly. She was still in danger.

She didn't seem to realize that her life was still on the line, even if her mortality and soul were not. "Stay, Edward, stay with me…"

But how could I deny her what she wanted? Who was I to deny her anything? "I will." She sighed, relaxing on the doubtless-hard wood floor.

Since she was more or less out of it, Carlisle took the opportunity to check with me. "Is it all out?" He watched me, and this time I met his eyes. The fatherly concern for me shone brightly in them. Any drops left could leave her in unbearable agony all over again.

He didn't mean for me to hear that. But I was on a cloud of relief, and I knew that he was just concerned. "Her blood tastes clean." I spoke softly, so as not to rouse her. "I can taste the morphine."

Good. But I should check with Bella, as well. "Bella?" he asked.

"Mmmmm?" She was exhausted. But even if she had a concussion, with all the blood she had lost it was fairly ridiculous to try and keep her awake.

"Is the fire gone?"

"Yes," she sighed. "Thank you, Edward."

If I'd ever thought before this moment that she would someday be thanking me for drinking her blood, I would have thought I was going insane. And if I had thought I could actually do it and leave her alive, I would have been certain that I was insane. Instead, I felt like my heart was about to burst from my chest.

I'd made the right decision, then, if this was what she wanted. Well—what else could she have wanted? She didn't know what the burning pain meant. So, I opted for telling her again, "I love you." I would never tire of telling her that.

"I know," she breathed.

I laughed quietly to myself, so relieved that the tension had to be let out somehow. I knew that this wasn't over yet—not by a long shot—but there was still some part of me that felt relieved, that this barrier was overcome. This was one part of the situation that had been pulled under control.

How cute. Exchanging vows of love over what would have been her deathbed, Emmett commented lightly. I could hear the underlying anger that was filling up his mind, and Jasper's, as they noticed what kind of a condition my Bella was in. I shot a half-hearted glare at the two of them as I rubbed my lips into my sleeve to remove excess blood. My brothers had come in with a gallon of gasoline that the owner of the car we'd stolen had stored in the trunk—a very nice gesture, since we had to burn the ballet studio along with James' remains.

Then Emmett hissed in a vampire-fast voice, "I don't smell her mother." Is she here? Or is she at Bella's house or something?

His comment sparked the memory in my mind. Carlisle beat me to the question, however. "Bella?" Where is her mother?

I smiled to myself as a frown appeared on her face, but I, too, was concerned about Bella's mother. Was Renee still in danger—or possibly hurt? Bella grunted, "What?"

"Where is your mother?" my father asked.

"In Florida," she sighed. "He tricked me, Edward. He watched our videos." Videos? I assumed that she meant ones from when she still lived with her mother, considering the circumstances.

But then she started, trying to open her eyes. The lids fluttered feebly. "Alice. Alice, the video—he know you, Alice, he knew where you came from."

There was a long silence in the room, as we blinked and tried to digest that. Alice looked up, scanning the room, and then stood. She walked as if in a trance, to the TV where a video camera was set up. She reached forward and pressed the button on the side, stopping the small machine from recording any more of the scene.

I was barely able to think about Alice's imminent discoveries when Bella muttered, "I smell gasoline."

We had to move. I'd almost forgotten, but now we had to get in motion. "It's time to move her," Carlisle said. To the car, I suppose. We have to figure out a story for the hospital.

"No, I want to sleep," Bella protested.

I couldn't really grin to myself. I was feeling rather melancholy again, considering she was in such bad shape. Yet, I made sure that there was nothing but love in my tone as I soothed her. "You can sleep, sweetheart, I'll carry you."

Carefully, gently, I slid my arms underneath her broken body, taking the utmost care to make sure that no part of her was twisted or strained. Carlisle made sure her makeshift leg splint was secure before stepping back, and I lifted her into the air. In my arms, she curled into my chest ever so slightly, still too hurt to really snuggle close to me.

Pressing my lips to her jaw, I whispered in her ear, "Sleep now, Bella."

She did, cradled in my arms in the most comfortable position that she could be in when she was so hurt. Carlisle led the way out of the room, and I followed immediately after him as we ran to the car. We couldn't let any watching humans spy us, for they would be curious as to why Bella was so hurt. However, Alice hadn't foreseen any problems or witnesses, so we were in the clear as far as we knew.

I did my best not to jostle Bella as I lowered myself into the car, and slid into the backseat. I cradled her on my lap, doing my best to support her weight as I spread her body over the remaining half of the seat. Her head remained in my lap.

Carlisle slid into the driver's seat, and we waited for what seemed like the longest minute of my life before Alice flung herself into the passenger-side seat. "Go straight, then turn right." We have to get to that hotel within the time frame and call an ambulance from there…

It was hard enough saving Bella from the dance studio, when I knew that if Carlisle had the equipment in his reach, he could have done so much more. But it was so much worse for me, and for Bella's condition, for us to have to set up the scene in a random hotel and wait for an ambulance to show up, after we had situated Bella and called for help.

I didn't let her go the entire time, holding her head as loosely in my grip as I dared as I murmured softly to her unconscious form. There was something about the talking that made me feel better, oddly enough, even though I knew that she couldn't hear me.

I was in agony during those long minutes, as we first set up Bella's clumsy fall down the stairs and through a window, and then waited for the hotel staff to stop panicking while Alice called 9-1-1. Carlisle did what he could, pretending to stitch up Bella's head wound right there and staying on top of making sure her vital signs were strong enough. No one paid close enough attention to the details of Carlisle's stitches to notice that he was moving quickly because they were already there. People tended to see what they wanted to see.

No one noticed that there was blood on our clothes until we reached the hospital. Carlisle followed with Bella into the ER, showing his certification as a doctor. I trusted him to help her, so even though I was wired on anxiety and nerves, I allowed her out of my sight. Just barely, but I did do it.

One of the nurses at the front, where Alice was signing paperwork for Bella, noticed the blood on my pants. He was right there with that girl who was just brought in, wasn't he? How else would he have gotten that blood on his legs? "Sir, there's a bathroom around the corner if you want to try and remove those stains," she ventured shyly.

I nodded at her in thanks, although I was more preoccupied with listening to Carlisle's thoughts through the hazy network of other minds in the hospital. I could hear the developments in Bella's case, and was intent on hearing everything that I could.

However, my brothers showed up at the hospital almost as soon as the nurse told me where the bathroom was. Emmett entered the room—Jasper stayed outside, the better to keep control on himself—and my large, burly sibling decided that I needed to go wash her blood off.

Allowing him to nudge me into the bathroom, I scrubbed vainly at the stains, which only served to lighten them to a pinkish color. Emmett stayed with me, keeping up a near-constant hum of talking, which served to distract me from Bella's current state. I wasn't entirely appreciative of the gesture, and I reflected that I would have to thank him for keeping me sane during those long hours in which we sat in the waiting room.

But after half an hour had passed, after Alice had called Bella's parents and Esme, we were still waiting. I was growing more tense by the second, just listening to Carlisle struggle to find the right blood for transfusion. I gritted my teeth together and moaned. How could it be that Bella's blood type was the most difficult—O negative—and there was none of that in this building?

Edward, calm down, Alice scolded me after I'd growled in frustration. She was outside with Jasper, but they could still hear us with their finely tuned vampire hearing. "They'll find it," she added out loud. They have to.

Find it? "Find what?" Emmett asked.

"Her blood type," I told him. My head hung loosely, my elbows propped on my knees, as I waited for good news. "They couldn't find any of her blood type in the hospital and are now sending out for it." I was counting down the minutes. I could hear each one of the seconds ticking by.

Damn. What's her blood type? "And her blood type is…?"

"O negative."

He snorted. The most difficult type, of course—you know, I wonder if that's why she smells so good? He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, raising an eyebrow. Does Edward have an attraction to that particular blood type?

I frowned to myself. That was a plausible theory, actually, but it didn't quite make sense to me. "If that's true," I murmured at a low volume, "then wouldn't that mean that the humans you ran into, who smelled so sweet to you, also had the same blood type? You described its effect as similar to what I felt."

He frowned, too. Then we would all have had the same thirst for her blood that you do, he concluded. "Huh." Maybe not, then…I, myself, was wondering if it was something mystically attractive in her that made her blood appeal to me so much.

Thinking of her blood made me recall how I had suffered through my own monstrous cravings to keep her human. How difficult it had been, for me to restrain from drinking her completely dry! I pressed my hands to the sides of my head, trying not to recall the memory of the taste of that liquid.

Emmett clapped a hand gently on my shoulder. "She'll be okay." You know that they're going to find her blood—they have to. Hippocratic Oath and all. They have to.

I smiled grimly, but said nothing. Oaths to do one's best to save a life meant nothing if the materials with which to save that life could not be found.

I bent my head again, and tuned out the world as I sat and waited for something. Anything. I'd saved her from the predator who would have destroyed her without a thought, with eagerness, even. I saved her from a life like mine. I had saved her from myself. But this wasn't something I could fix or save her from. I could only sit by and wait.

I'd saved her from so much already, and still she was in danger. And I could do nothing.

A/N—To be continued…

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