Notes: Bella learns the full truth.


Esme and Rose take turns explaining Alice's vision to Bella on the ride back to Rose's house. Emmett and Carlisle are in the car Carlisle borrowed from Alice. A phone call interrupts near the beginning of the explanation, and Esme -- who isn't driving -- reads the text without comment, then closes the phone. She doesn't say who it is, or what the message had been. It's probably Alice, and Bella wants to ask, but doesn't. There are bigger fish to fry.

Bella feels betrayed, although her objective side recognizes why they hadn't told Edward. Apparently Alice had seen that he would 'hover' and drive Bella to distraction. But -- "I'm not inclined to knee-jerk responses, you know. And I do understand how Alice's visions work -- that there can be lots of possible outcomes. You could have told me."

"Alice didn't think it was worth saying anything to worry you until something got clearer," Rose explains -- again.

"And it was just at the airport this morning that she told me she had a feeling something would happen soon," Esme adds. "I didn't have time -- alone -- with you until it actually did happen."

Despite a certain numbness, Bella feels argumentative. "But would you have told me even if we'd had time?" Esme doesn't answer immediately and Bella says, "I thought not." Esme doesn't dispute that, just looks mollified. Rose says nothing, keeping her eyes on the road, her posture stiff and angry, but Bella understands it for guilt. Rose realizes she should have told Bella. "I know now why you were asking me what I'd want to do in case Edward bit me," Bella tells Rose. "It wasn't Edward's bite you were worried about, was it? It was this."

"Yes," Rose admits, voice terse.

"You do realize that if you'd given me the actual scenario, my answer might have been different."

"It would? What would you have answered, knowing it all now?"

"I'd have said 'yes.'" Bella is surprised by her own certainty, but it doesn't lessen that certainty any. "I'd want to change. I'm not ready to lose Edward."

Rose neither answers immediately nor looks at Bella, just gives a sharp nod of the head. Finally, she says, "Moot point."

"Apparently," Bella agrees.

None of them speak again; it's not a comfortable silence but fortunately, they're only a few blocks from Rose's house.

Edward is there in the driveway, leaning up against the side of his Audi, arms and ankles crossed. He still looks furious. Bella now understand why, and he's at her door almost before Rose can stop the car. "Come on," he says as he opens it, reaching in to scoop up Bella. "We're leaving."

Esme appears shocked. Rose just looks furious and gets out herself, slamming the door. She storms around the car to confront Edward with Bella in his arms. "Look here, you ASS. You don't have the right to just swoop in and carry her off! You don't OWN her!"

"I never said I did!" Edward bellows back, almost deafening Bella, who winces. "But at least I'd TRUST her enough to tell her about a vision that might mean life or death for her!"

"Oh, YES, you self-righteous prick!" Rose punches his shoulder with one manicured red nail. "Tell me ALL about it! You LEFT her ten years ago because you -- in all your godlike wisdom -- thought it BEST for her! How does it feel with the shoe on the other foot, Edward? You don't have room to talk!"

"I've learned better since!" he shouts back.

"TIME OUT!" Bella howls . . . stopping them both cold. "Edward, please put me down -- in my chair." Face meek and humiliated, Esme already has it out and opened for her. "I'm not a doll."

"I didn't think you were," he mutters, but complies immediately with her request.

Settled, Bella spins the chair, glaring at her new husband and the woman who has, to her great surprise, become her best friend. "Look, I love you both, and I believe -- with all my heart -- that you both absolutely want what's best for me because you have good souls and you're the fiercest protectors I know." That makes them both blink in surprise, but it's true. Edward and Rose are two sides of one coin and she suddenly understands why she's come to love Rose so well. She's just like Edward in all the ways that really matter.

"I'm angry, Rose," she says. She's aware of a second car pulling in behind Rose's Tesla. Emmett and Carlisle. They get out and approach cautiously, aware a stand off is in process. Carlisle goes to Esme, but Emmett is wise enough to keep his distance from Rosalie, instead standing behind Bella, who's facing the two of them. "You hurt me," Bella goes on, and her voice cracks. It's more effective than anger as Rose's whole face crumples. She starts to move towards Bella, but Bella holds up a hand and she stops. "I trusted you. You let me down -- you and Alice both, and Esme." She glances back. "And Emmett?" He just drops his eyes. "All of you knew."

"Carlisle didn't," Esme says quietly. "Don't blame him."

"Edward," Rose says now with a pointed look in his direction, "would have freaked out if we'd told him. Alice saw that he'd get overprotective and make you so angry, you'd have had a serious fight."

"I would not -- !"

"You would so!" Rose cuts him off. "Don't tell us you wouldn't! Alice saw it! And we ALL know what you're like!"

"And that gives you the right not to tell Bella?"

"STOP!" Bella yells. She feels right on the edge. Before she can continue, a phone rings. She's not sure whose until Edward fishes out his cell and glances at it. His lips thin.

"Alice," he says into the receiver as he flips it open. "You -- " He cuts off, listening for a moment, then breaths out heavily and hands it to Bella.

Surprised, she raises it to her ear. The first words she hears are, "I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Despite the fact she knows Alice can see just how to approach this to defuse her anger, it works. A straight-out apology -- without excuses -- is exactly what Bella needs to hear, and it's exactly what Alice is giving her. "I love you," she continues, and Bella can hear in her voice the tears that can't be shed. "And I trust you -- I really do. I'm so sorry, I just . . . I didn't want to scare you until I knew more. I was waiting for a clearer vision. I should have known better."

She doesn't ask for forgiveness. So of course Bella gives is. "I know," she says. It's grudging. "I know you didn't mean me ill."

"Absolutely not!" Bella hears someone speak behind Alice and Alice responds quickly, then says into the phone mic, "Jasper's telling me, 'I told you so.'"

Against her will, Bella smiles. She can see that all the Cullens can hear this conversation, so she asks. "What do you see now, Alice? The truth."

"Nothing," Alice tells her. "Nothing more. I saw it all happen as it played out, of course -- well, just before it played out. I was on the plane. I couldn't call. I got out my phone anyway and sent Esme a text. The flight attendant didn't catch me."

Bella glances at Esme, who just nods. Esme had mentioned that earlier.

"And that's all? You've seen nothing else since?"

"Nothing else -- I swear on a stack of Bibles. Assuming that counts for vampires."

Behind her, Emmett snorts, but neither Rose nor Edward -- nor Carlisle and Esme -- look amused. "Anyway," Alice is saying, "don't blame them. I told them not to tell you."

"Thank you, Alice," Bella says, "but Rose, Esme and Emmett are still adults and they have to answer for their own choices. Just -- never again hide a vision from me. Even a scary one. I can forgive you once. I can't forgive you twice."

"I know," she says. "I won't."

Bella closes Edward's phone and hands it back to him. He doesn't look satisfied, but he's less visibly angry. Alice, Bella thinks, knows how to manage her brother. Yet as a communication specialist, Bella can see exactly how she's managing her brother (and the rest of them), so it loses some of its impact. Alice may mean well, but Bella thinks she still has a ways to go before she fully grasps the scope of the deception she played here.

Edward is watching Bella. "What do you want to do?" he asks quietly. "Do you want to stay here tonight?" -- and that simple question means the world to her. Of them all, he -- who once tried to run her life the most -- is the one asking her what she wants to do now. If she hadn't loved him before, this would seal it. Till death parts them, her heart will belong to him and she's never wished more that he could hear the clamor in her brain telling him so. She meets his eyes instead, hoping he can see it there -- her gratitude, her affection, her trust. She knows he'd have told her. Yes, Alice is probably right -- he'd have hovered. He'd have driven her crazy. But he'd have told her. And in the end, that's the greater trust. Protection is normal. All people want to protect those they love. But trusting someone with the truth -- that's dearer, and Edward would have trusted her. The rest of them meant well -- honestly they did -- but even Rose didn't trust her like Edward would. Or Rose hadn't. Bella thinks they might all have learned something here tonight, and in the end, perhaps the future matters more than the past.

"I'll be okay here," she tells Edward, then breaks the stare to glance around at the rest of them. "Don't ever lie to me -- us -- again. The same thing I told Alice applies to all of you. Yes, I'm human. I'm disabled. I'm breakable compared to you. But if there's a threat to me, I want to know about it. Even if all Alice's visions say I'm dying -- I want to know. I deserve to know. If you don't tell me, you're stealing my choices. That's not a kindness."

It's Carlisle who backs up her words. "She's right," he says softly. "As a doctor, I sometimes have to deliver bad news to a patient but -- a few rare situations aside -- it's always better if the patient knows the full scope. It's not a kindness to spare them. Bella didn't die today -- God be thanked -- but if events had gone differently, we wouldn't have known what she wanted."

"She says she would have wanted to be changed," Rose blurts.

That catches everybody's attention, especially Edward's. He glares at Rose. "That's not an op- "

"That's what she said she wanted, Edward!"

"Rose is right," Bella says before Edward can reply. He turns to look at her and she holds his eyes. It's hard. He's clearly upset and his face is pleading with her. But she holds his eyes. "I'm not ready to lose you yet. If I'm eighty, that's different -- or seventy, or even sixty -- I'd be ready to go. But tomorrow? I'm not ready."

His gold eyes are dark and hard as he glares at her in the night of Rosalie's driveway. Security lights from the garage cut sharp shadows in his face.

"I know what the decision would mean," she tells him, not backing down. "I'm not seventeen any more. I understand completely what I'm choosing."

And he bows his head. It's acquiescence. "I know you do. And I'd respect your decision."

The gathering in Rose's driveway breaks up after that. Esme and Carlisle go home, and Rose and Emmett go with them -- perhaps because the tension is still thick between Rose and Edward, or perhaps just to give Edward and Bella time alone together. Since he cut his shift short, and needs no sleep, they'll have a little time tonight and tomorrow morning before he has to leave for his next shift at 3 pm.

Bella can tell he's still extremely stressed, but she's just too emotionally drained herself to take care of him too. He's going to have to wear his big-boy pants for a while until she's had a few minutes to collect herself. She retreats to her bathroom to splash water on her face and empty her bladder and bowels since the station's excuse for a handicapped-access toilet was pathetic. She'd taken one look at it and given up, although Rose had made her go once with assistance, "Or your bladder might perforate," she'd warned. Bella hates being caught like that without options, and perhaps she should think about traveling with a spare catheter, in case. She's resisted it for years, but it's not sensible to be stubborn like that. Be that as it may, she feels much better once her human needs are taken care of.

Or most of them. When she exits, she can smell food cooking and her stomach rumbles in answer. She hasn't eaten since noon; it's now after 8 pm. Edward is in the kitchen, making her grilled cheese and tomato soup. "I know you like grilled cheese," he tells her, hearing her enter but not turning.

"Comfort food," she replies, and accepts the plate he brings over. "Thank you."

She eats in silence; he watches. Even after all this time, it feels a little weird to have him just watch while she eats, but she's also not at all sure what to say. She knows the two of them need to talk this out further but can she handle another stressful conversation tonight? When she's almost done, he says, "You look ready to collapse. Want me to help you get into bed?"

She recognizes the offer is as much for him as for her. He wasn't there today, and now he feels a need to assuage guilt (however pointless) by care-taking -- cooking for her, helping her get ready for bed . . . She sees how his hands are gripped together tightly on the tabletop. He may not need sleep, but he needs to be held as much as she does. "Come to bed with me," she says.

"I'd like that," he agrees.

Getting ready for bed with Edward's assistance takes half as long and soon they're curled up on their sides, nose to nose. "I had time to burn earlier today," he says, "so I got online and shopped around for properties between here and Atlanta. I know I suggested building a house for us, but we could get out of here faster if I found one to remodel." After tonight, Bella thinks he's that much more eager to get them their own place -- and he doesn't suggest that Esme and Emmett renovate it. Right now, she doubts he's eager to ask them for anything.

"It doesn't matter to me, Edward. I've learned not to be too particular about my living space. Most of the time, you have to take what you can find when you're like me."

"You shouldn't have to settle. I don't want you to have to settle ever again," he says. "But I don't want to stay here for months while we build something from scratch."

"We'll have to stay here at least until spring," she says. "Even if you bought a house tomorrow, contractors couldn't get much work done in January."

"I could do the work."

This makes her smile. "You have many talents, but I'd trust you to work on my brain before I trusted you to work on my plumbing. Have you ever actually done remodeling work?"

"I've helped Esme!" he says. "And I can read a book or two."

She bites her lip to keep from laughing."You're such an academic, sweetheart." At his raised eyebrow, she explains, "You hate admitting there's something you might not know about. It's okay not to be the world's greatest living expert."

"I don't think I'm -- "

She shushes him with fingers on his lips. "You may not think it, but sometimes you act like it. Just let Emmett and Esme do what they're good at. After tonight, they owe us."

"But I don't want them to owe us!"

"What you mean is that you don't want to feel beholden to them right now."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Same difference."

"Not really." She cups his cheek, studying his face in the dark. However immobile it can become, it's still a surprisingly expressive face. "You're not sure you want to forgive them, are you?"

"You'd think -- after everything that's happened -- they'd know better than to leave us out! Bella, you could have died today and I wouldn't have been there!"

That's really the heart of it for him, and she can't blame him for the way his breath speeds up with delayed panic. She'd feel exactly the same if their places were reversed. Reaching out, she pulls him to her and he settles his head on her chest right above her breasts where he can hear her heart. Then he just breathes, struggling to calm himself.

"Sometimes we only learn from mistakes," she says after a long minute. "If we're lucky, those mistakes don't leave us in a wheelchair." Her voice is wry and he raises his head to glare at her, looking as if he wants to protest but she shakes her head against the pillow. "I told you once before, if you don't let me own my mistake, it takes away my power to surmount it. Just like you had to own yours from ten years ago -- and you did." She kisses his forehead because it's all she can reach. "Thank you, for tonight. You stood up for me; you didn't get pissy because Alice didn't tell you. You got pissy because she didn't tell me. I know she saw you hovering, but you'd have told me why -- and that means a lot."

"Of course I'd have told you." He sighs and lays his head back down. "I know Alice is probably right. I'd have hovered and you'd have gotten angry with me."

"No doubt. But then we could have fought about it and cleared the air, and that's better than being left in the dark just to keep us from fighting. That's what Alice needs to understand."

He raises his head again to look at her, then moves back to lie beside her where he can see her better. "She needs to understand we should fight?" He looks baffled.

"Absolutely." And now they're on her home turf. "Edward, communication comes in all forms -- including quarrels -- but it's essential to making ANY relationship work, even a marriage. Especially a marriage. If a couple isn't fighting at least some of the time, that's not a good thing!"

This idea appears to startle him and he stares at her, dumbfounded. "Quarrels indicate a problem."

"No!" she says. "That's such a common misconception, but not fighting is what indicates a problem! Sniping is unhealthy. Even the wrong kind of teasing is unhealthy. But quarreling just means people can be honest with each other. If you never fight, you never learn how to fight fair. Then when something really big comes up that you can't agree on, you have no idea how to resolve it and everything falls apart! Fighting is good as long as it's healthy fighting -- which means both sides being honest. No manipulation, no making decisions for somebody else, no guilting the other into doing what one wants. That's passive aggressive behavior, and it's maladaptive communication. It may work for a while, but eventually, it blows up in the person's face. Quarrels are good, Edward -- it's healthy communication as long as it stays fair and hatchets get buried when it's over."

His amber eyes are hooded. "You don't think there are things that just don't need to be said?"

"No." She shakes her head and brushes the bronzy hair off his forehead. "In my experience, it's not the 'what,' but the 'how' that causes hurt feelings. There are good ways of saying things, even potentially painful things . . . ways to open communication and ways to shut it down. But if you start hiding things, especially in intimate relationships, then they . . . turn into an abscess, to use medical terminology for you. It festers."

"And if you just don't agree?"

"Then it's important to know that -- confront it, and figure out how to live with it . . . or not. But pretending it's not there won't make it go away. If you respect the other person, then you can respect that they can disagree and they're not stupid, or crazy, or out to get you. They just see the world differently."

His lips twitch. "Mark Twain said it's a difference of opinion that makes horse races."

It makes her chuckle. "Exactly."

"So fighting's okay?"

"Absolutely. I hope we fight sometimes -- or there's something wrong."

"Then Alice was wrong. If we'd fought, it wouldn't have made you leave me."

"What? No!" Bella is astonished. "Is that what she told you on the phone?"

"Um, sort of."

Bella smirks and touches his cheek. "She told you something else but she knew that's what you'd hear, and it got you off her back. That's exactly the kind of communication that's not good. I think you, I and Alice need to have a chat when she gets back. She means well, but sometimes her ability to see the future gets in the way of her living in the present.

"And no, Edward. If I get angry with you, you'll hear about it from me. We'll fight it out. I asked you to promise me you wouldn't leave me again. Well, I promise you I won't shut you out because I'm mad at you. I know you love me, and you know I love you. But love alone isn't enough. We have to believe the other will stick around, or we'll never be able to be honest with each other for fear of losing the other person. That's what real commitment is based on -- that promise. You're stuck with me, Dr. Masen."

Out comes the crooked smile she adores. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

That settled, Bella feels more of the evening's coiled tension sliding away -- at least until he speaks again. "What happened today at Alice's store with Hannah's husband -- it's not uncommon, is it?"

After her spiel, she knows she needs to tell him the truth even if it might lead to an argument. "It's more common than people think -- but less common than you probably fear. I know you worry, and I won't lie, Edward. These things happen. The good news is that they usually end with less blood than today. I could probably have talked Brady down if Hannah hadn't reacted like she did. Diffusing tense situations is what I do, sweetheart. It's what I was trained for."

He laughs a little and runs his thumb up and down the skin of her upper arm. "You sure know how to diffuse me. Isn't that manipulation, though?"

"Smart ass. No. It would be manipulation if I said, 'But this is what I want to do, and you wouldn't want to make me unhappy, would you?' That's manipulation because it's using guilt against you. I want to be honest with you, but without hyperbole and melodrama. Working in a shelter is dangerous. You do get crazy husbands and boyfriends who want to do violence to their wives and S.O.s, or shelter workers. That's why their wives came to the shelter in the first place. Our job at the shelter is to retrain people how to problem-solve without resorting to violence. Hannah is . . . a work in progress. She's better, but she still hates Brady and knows just how to set him off. The really sad thing about today is that we've ended with a situation that's going to be three times as hard to deal with. And tomorrow, I'll have to get up early and go in and deal with it. But I sorta . . . I like doing this, Edward. I didn't think I would, and I'm not good at the empathic side of shelter work. But I'm good at finessing bad situations." She studies his face. A slight frown mars his brow and she uses her thumb to smooth it. "I have a suspicion I know what you're thinking. I'm in the chair and that makes me more vulnerable. Right?"

"Yes." He meets her eyes. "Bella, you want me to be honest so let's be honest here. You can't run. You can't move as fast as fully mobile people. I know how much you can do, and I'm not putting that down, but -- "

"You don't need to apologize; I'm not offended. And you're right. But today, being in or out of a chair wouldn't have made a difference, would it? He had a gun. Only a vampire can outrun a bullet. What I'm doing is dangerous -- but I believe it's important enough to make the danger worth it. I believe in it. Sometimes that trumphs danger."

His smile is wry. "That's why I love you. Well, one reason. You're braver than I am." He leans in to kiss her. It's gentle. "I won't stop you, Bella. But we're going to have a talk with Alice about visions. And promise me this -- be brave, but don't be reckless. You do have a bunch of vampires around you. Let us protect you."

"Oh, absolutely. I recognize the danger. I'm not stupid. If one of you wants to step in front of me to stop a bullet, be my guest."

His laugh is rough, but it's a laugh. She knows how much it costs him to give in on this -- or rather to reach a compromise. He's not stopping her, but she's not being absurd about her limits.

And now she needs to ask the big question -- confront the big pink elephant that's been sleeping in the bedroom with them. "What would happen if you did change me?" His eyes go wide at this and his lips part a little in surprise. "Rose told me that you told her changing me wouldn't mean I could walk again. I'd just assumed it would."

He doesn't answer her question; instead, he asks one of his own. "Do you really want to be changed? I know you said so, but Bella -- "

"I don't know," she admits. "I think I would. I wasn't kidding when I said I'm not ready to give you up yet. The problem is I'm not ready to give up my family yet either, but if I was dying, I'd be giving them up one way or the other, so if being changed meant I got to keep you, then I'd opt for keeping you. But I need to know what might happen if I were changed, before I really know for sure what I'd want."

He nods against the pillow. "I wish I could give you a definitive answer. I can't. And I told Rose that changing you wouldn't necessarily mean you could walk again -- but it wouldn't necessarily mean you couldn't, either. I just don't know and I'm reluctant to try with such a big question mark out there." He licks his lips even though he doesn't really need to. It's a nervous habit left over from his human years. Whatever he thinks, he can still act and react like a human. "I've been looking into all of this for a while."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you never asked me, Bella. I thought it would be . . . presumptuous . . . of me to drop it on you without even knowing if you wanted to be changed. And I still . . . I haven't changed my mind, really. I'd prefer to see you stay human. I like you human. There are so many things . . . " he trails off and lifts a hand to draw his forefinger along her cheekbone. "I love your blushes, and your heartbeat, and your warmth, and your gray hair, and to watch you sleeping, and all those very human things that embarrass you." He grins. "I even like that you can fart and belch. Don't laugh!" She's biting her lips, half in embarrassment, half in amusement. "I love you human. If I could have any wish, it's that I could be human with you. To get old and wrinkled with you. Being seventeen forever sounds a lot more appealing than it actually is."

"Oh," she says, grinning back at him, "I'd hate being seventeen forever. But I must admit, there are advantages when it comes to your, ah, stamina." She thinks he'd be blushing if he could, but he just made her blush with that crack about 'human things,' so she doesn't feel too badly. "But giving up my family . . ." She trails off and he offers a nod for her to continue. "Martha . . . it would hurt her. She lost Mark and then to lose me . . . but she still has Jada and Rosa. I know children aren't interchangeable, but she wouldn't be left alone. For my parents, I'm all they have -- their only child. Dealing with me in the chair for the rest of my life was hard enough on them. If I 'died,' it would kill them. Especially my dad. He never says a lot, and we may not talk as much as I do with my mother, but she'd come to terms with it eventually. She'd be able to believe she'd see me in the afterlife, and she has Phil to take care of her. But Charlie . . . he'd never get over it. And he's all alone."

Now it's Edward's turn to raise a hand and stop her mouth. "Bella -- listen to me. I love how you think of others first. You always did, even when I first met you. But this is about you. It has to be about you. Not Renee, not Charlie, not Martha. Not me. You. So if you don't want to be changed, don't be. It's not something I'd ask of you; it's not something I want for you. But I will do whatever you choose because, in the end, it's not about me. It's your life."

And for the second time that night, Bella's throat closes from sheer emotion. "I love you," she finally manages, and knows she's crying. The hot sting in her eyes makes her blink as he wipes the tears away, touching one to his tongue to taste her. If she were changed, she'd lose that, and she knows it's yet one more thing Edward finds precious about her humanity. "Part of me wants to stay with you forever -- the romantic part. But a wiser part thinks a lifetime with you would be just fine, and maybe better."

"One lifetime is all I ever wanted, Bella. You know" -- he pauses as if weighing whether to say something -- "I'd follow you. I'd follow you when your life is over."

"I know," she says, and it bothers her a lot less now than a few days ago. Talking to Rose helped, and if she wants him to respect her choices even if they aren't ones he'd make for her, she has to do the same for him. "My soul would wait for yours."

"If I have a soul."

"Oh, you do. You know you do, Edward."

"Carlisle told me once that the surest proof I've got a soul is that I can worry I don't. I never really believed him before."

-- which implies that now he does believe.

After these exchanges, Bella hates to return to more mundane topics, but the big question never got answered. "What do you know about what would happen if you changed me? Why wouldn't the venom fix me?"

"Because the spinal cord break is healed." He rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "Understand this is purely speculation. I've not been able to find a vampire with even the approximation of your situation, nor does Carlisle know of any. We're not . . . we're not usually very forthcoming about our human lives, even if we remember them. We know that venom heals death wounds, or any other wound or imperfection in the body at the time of the Change." He glances over at her. "Carlisle tells me I had bad acne. The Change cleared it up even if it wasn't related to the influenza that killed me." Bella grins at the idea of Edward with acne, but probably shouldn't be surprised. He wasn't living in an era of dermatologists and Clearasil. "But, um, other things didn't get fixed." He glances down his body and Bella senses that he's suddenly shy. "You've seen that I, uh, well, I'm still circumcised."

"Yes, I did notice that." Mark hadn't been, but there are a lot of differences between Mark's body and Edward's -- starting with skin color -- so circumcision hadn't stood out to her.

"The foreskin didn't grow back. Like I said, most of us aren't forthcoming about our appearance or life before this one, so I can only be sure of my own family and none of them had permanent alterations to the body like circumcision. That's probably, er -- what's the word now -- 'TMI'?" He laughs a little. "The closest other thing I can be sure of is the break to Esme's leg that happened when she was sixteen. X-rays of her leg bone still show calcification from healing. The bone is whole -- but it's not like new."

Bella follows where he's going. "So if damage is healed, or something's amputated, it won't grow back?"

"I fear that's right. Although I have a theory of how I might be able to get around the problem of the break in your spine."

"Re-break it?" she suggests. It seems the obvious choice.

"No. We don't fully understand how the nerves in the body work and I'd have to cut out all the scarring . . . which would mean taking about half an inch out of your spinal cord. What if it doesn't grow back, like my foreskin? The brain and spinal cord are unique."

"But you said your foreskin incision was healed, which is why it didn't grow back."

"True. But again -- I'm not sure. And I'm not going to lop off somebody's arm or cut his spine, then change him, just to see if it fixed itself. That would be highly unethical!"

She can't help smiling. "True. But you had a theory . . . ? Not one that involves re-injuring me?"

"Yes. It's very similar to what might heal SCI anyway."

"Stem cells," she says, finally getting it.

"Stem cells," he confirms. "If I were to introduce stem cells at the site of your original injury, during the Change, they might become new neurons. That's why stem cells are so invaluable, and not just for this. They're undifferentiated and can become specialized as needed. When we finally master them, it'll revolutionize medicine. So many incurable diseases and injuries will become curable -- not just SCI, but diabetes, Alzheimers, Lupus . . . " The excitement in his voice is palpable. "It's why I wanted to work in this field. I can help change people's lives. You, yes, of course, but others too." He stops. "I mean, yes, I was inspired by you, but -- "

"It's okay, Edward." She leans in to kiss his chin. "I like that you want to help more than just me."

"Either way, I think stem cells are the answer. We are so close. So much good work has been done in other countries and now that the bans have been lifted here . . . research is moving at warp speed. I'll see you walk again, or at least feel again. I swear it."

The excitement is back, and it makes her smile. It's contagious. It also makes her choice easier. "If I could walk again like I am, I'd be happy with that."

"So would I," he says.

"And if I could walk as a vampire . . . I guess I'd be happy with that too. In an emergency." She frowns.

He nods, studying her face. "What about in ten years? Or twenty?" He licks his lips again. "I know we said that if we have a long, happy life together, that would be good enough. And it would be. But what if you get breast cancer at fifty? That's not tomorrow -- but it's not seventy, either."

"I don't know," she tells him. "I don't know what I'd want to do. I do know I wouldn't want to be old and decrepit and immortal. But fifty and immortal? That's not young, but it's not so old. Still, you'd look half my age."

"I'm going to look half your age anyway if you stay human. And it's not your body I see when I look at you -- not really. It's your spirit."

"I know. Same here. You're not seventeen to me; you're unique. Can we . . . can we cross that bridge if we get to it?"

"Okay. But it won't matter to me if you're forty or fifty, Bella." His lips curl up. "I don't care what you look like. It's not who you are -- or who I am."

"No, it's not," she agrees, then snuggles up to him and lets him hold her and rub her back until she drifts off to sleep.


Notes: Human Edward with acne is a nod to Minisinoo's "This is My Beloved Son." I was really struck by the image of a teenaged Edward with zits. Sometimes people make him a little TOO perfect. As a vamp, he's physically perfect. As a human, he'd have had some normal faults. So MY idea of human Edward has acne and was nearsighted. :-)