A/N for 2020-04-05: My beta, Eeyorefan12, was instrumental in putting this and the last chapter together. Many, many thanks to her for the way she's raised this story up from its infancy.

Hoping you are all well. It is a beautiful sunny, Palm Sunday here in Vancouver, BC.

~ Erin


Someone was beating on something, a dull pounding that made her head pulse with a steady ache. Moaning a little, finding it difficult to move, Bella realized the ache was her head throbbing to the beat of her heart. The smell of the woods and Chelsea's panicked face swam back to her and she groaned in earnest, but didn't open her eyes.

"Ooh, the fun's about to start!" The voice was unnaturally high, its discordant chimes making Bella wince.

Something jammed painfully into her back, making Bella cry out.

"Be careful—don't break her yet!" the same voice hissed.

Through her now open and watering eyes, Bella took in the scene in front of her. Unfinished walls were partially obscured by a furnace and hot-water tank. The exposed studs looked dry, but there was the odour of untouched dampness. Near the ceiling were several white rectangles—windows, but the glass had been painted—papered over?—she couldn't quite tell. She was trying very hard to distinguish between the two, because that detail was a lot easier to focus on than what she knew was behind her. Her fuzzy gaze drifted to the left, where a box of newborn diapers sat beside a box of infant formula. She squinted at them to make sure, and when she did, swallowed her mounting nerves.

"Too scared to look, Bella?" the voice laughed.

Bella pushed herself up to kneeling, wincing at the pain in her back, and then turned herself to face the other side of the room. Victoria's hair was just as violently red as she remembered, if not even more alarmingly so under the caged utility bulbs that dotted the ceiling. A man—a vampire—she corrected herself, of moderate stature stood beside her. He had sandy brown hair and unremarkable features. Were it not for the unnatural brightness of his skin and the red glow of his eyes, he could've blended in anywhere. "Say hello to Murray, Bella."

Bella stared, contemplating her response.

Victoria's fingers interrupted her brief flicker of thoughts, making a brutal vice at her jaw. "Say hello to Murray, Bella."

Bella managed a garbled, "Hello."

"Good girl," Victoria said, releasing her grip, patting Bella's jaw with the equivalent of a slap.

"Well," Victoria said, standing back beside Murray. "I'm positively giddy. It's like Christmas morning, and I barely know what to do with you."

Bella decided her silence would be wise, and swallowed, trying to wet her dry throat.

"Get her some water, Murray."

Murray lifted an eyebrow and looked sideways at Victoria. His distaste for the task was obvious. Victoria rolled her eyes and explained, "She's thirsty, and I don't want her dying on me yet."

The chill that had started with Victoria's touch slithered down Bella's body. She'd hoped her end would be fairly quick, or at least not prolonged. The diapers, the formula, and the water all colluded in extinguishing this hope. Victoria didn't plan on killing her quickly.

Murray was gone and back in a blink, holding out a cup of water for Bella to take. With trembling fingers, she pressed the plastic cup to her lips and swallowed carefully, trying not to make eye contact with them.

An abrupt band of pressure tightened its way around her midsection, and Bella closed her eyes and breathed into the small contraction. When her eyelids lifted again, Victoria and and Murray still stood staring at her in exactly the same positions. Perhaps they were going to stare her to death. Her nerves were drawn so tight, the laugh barked itself out of her before she could stop it.

Victoria's lip curled. "And what's entertaining you, little girl?"

Fear abruptly strangled her voice. She shook her head, immediately regretting it as the throbbing intensified. Keeping her gaze lowered, she tried to will the headache away.

"You can play with her if you want, Murray. Just make sure you're careful. I seem to remember brunettes are your favourite."

Bella's stomach churned as she looked up at him.

"Hmm," Murray said, cocking his head slightly. "Not ones quite that big." His mouth twisted a little.

"Your choice," Victoria said. Her voice was flat with disappointment.

Murray remained statuesque. Only his tongue moved, traversing the outline of his lips in a hungry motion.

Bella stuck her gaze back on the floor, trying to breathe evenly.

Victoria obviously didn't like Murray's refusal, and her stance shifted. She was agitated, and there was a bite to her tone as she spoke. "Murray is very useful, Bella. I discovered him quite by accident when I was looking for your darling Edward after I thought he'd abandoned you. I kept Murray safe when he was a newborn, didn't I, Murray?"

Murray grunted his assent, still eyeing Bella like a snack.

"And then we discovered that all those Cullens couldn't use their gifts with him. They can't see his future or hear his thoughts, or anyone's who's near him. It was perfect!"

Bella closed her eyes again, realizing in that moment she'd still been harbouring the tiny hope that giving herself up to Victoria would make it possible for the Cullens to find them both. That brittle little flame of possibility was quickly extinguished by this new revelation.

"That's right," Victoria crooned. "You're completely mine. They're not coming. He's not going to save you this time."

Bella opened her eyes and stared at the woman, hoping her expression was as black as her feelings towards her. The explosion of hatred made her grind her teeth, but didn't keep the words in. "Fuck you," she spat at Victoria.

Victoria laughed, the high notes echoing in the small space. "Don't you wish."

Bella heard the snap before she felt it, choking out a cry as she grasped the broken finger on her left hand, closing her eyes and breathing through the pain. Victoria had moved so quickly, she hadn't even seen her coming.

"Behave," Victoria hissed, her breath chilling Bella's face.

The wise thing, she knew now, was not to provoke Victoria more, so Bella remained still, not speaking, letting her eyes wander over the two vampires.

Victoria stuck out her hand. "Noticed it yet? Did you like my surprise?"

Bella saw it then. The upper portion of one of Victoria's fingers was missing, a pale stump sitting in the middle of her left hand.

"It was worth every bit of pain to know you would all be fooled." She giggled. "You were so easy to fool with Murray."

Bella closed her eyes again. The hope she and the Cullens had dared entertain back then had been crushingly painful when it collapsed on top of them. The list of corpses made in her own name traipsed over her conscience again. She was here. She was ending this. This would have to be enough.

When Bella dared to open her eyes and look up again, Victoria and Murray's mouths were moving, the silent conversation unfolding at a speed she couldn't follow.

Whatever was going to happen, Bella knew it wasn't going to be quick—at least not for her baby. Veering away from that troubling thought, she pictured Josh and Mer with Edward, thinking of what they would look like as they grew older. They would be safe and loved for as long as they lived. Well cared for. They'd never want for anything material, she was sure of that. They might long for her, but they'd have Edward and all the other Cullens to fill that void.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to her baby, hand on her abdomen, squirming as a stronger contraction made her body squeeze in on itself.

As her jeans became suddenly wet, Bella sniffed in a hasty breath and caught the distinct sea-watery smell that told her that her waters had broken.

While she was close to full-term, she was still more than a week from her due date. Stifling a sob, she made herself breathe. When she'd made the choice to hand herself over to Victoria, she'd expected to die unpleasantly, but she hadn't expected to be physically parted from her baby when it happened, or to witness whatever Victoria planned to do to her son or daughter.

The idea of killing her own child, to spare it a worse death, flickered briefly and then extinguished itself. Even on the unlikely chance she could make herself do so, she knew Victoria would intervene if it ran against her plans.

A powerful contraction forced Bella to bend over and grunt. The wetness at the seat of her jeans spread, and her vision blurred as she tried to find a focal-point in the room.

"Ugh, she's leaking," Murray said. His lip curled.

"Oh," Victoria said, clearly delighted. "I'd expected to have to wait, but look at this."

Bella contemplated telling her to fuck off again, but the contraction was too strong. She tried to get onto all fours, her finger singing with pain as it touched the ground.

"Do you know what I'm going to do, Bella?" Victoria crooned.

Victoria might as well have been talking to a wall, the contraction was so powerful. Bella's vision was shrinking, a blackening shadow creeping in from the edge of her eyes. A groan crawled out of her throat.

As the contraction eased, Victoria spoke. "I really thought he'd left you. When I saw you all drugged up, I wondered if you really were his mate. But clearly, he couldn't stay away, though how you could love a snack, I have no idea. I'd settled on simply killing him. It wouldn't be as good as making him suffer through losing you, but now—oh now, I have so many ways to hurt him." Her leering grin appeared in front of Bella's face. She whispered, "I'm going to change you Bella, and then I'm going to watch you kill your baby. And then, when you've lost what little of your sanity and humanity remain, I'm going to take you to a nice little playground full of children and watch you lose the rest of your mind."

Bella had never been so grateful for another contraction. She couldn't have heard anything else Victoria said even if she'd wanted to, groaning and growling as the pain flamed into her back and groin.

When the smell of pennies reached her, Bella retched automatically, watery vomit spreading over the floor. As she opened her eyes, Bella saw that Victoria's feet had retreated to the other side of the room.

"Go get him," Victoria snapped at Murray.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

If there was an answer, Bella didn't hear it.

While the contraction finally faded, the blurring blackening in Bella's vision did not. She didn't know what Victoria's timeline was, but her own was becoming very clear. Unless Victoria had a stock of antihypertensive drugs with which she was planning to inject Bella, the complications from her labour were going to end her life in short order.

The skin over her arms and face felt tight. Her already swollen left hand was fattening again, the wedding ring cutting into her flesh.

A snarling and scrabbling from the stairs distracted her from the beginnings of her next contraction, and she stared at the exposed treads where three sets of very quickly-moving feet had appeared. The snarling became a roar, and then her father was standing a few yards away from her.

Murray was holding one arm, another vampire the other.

The snarling stopped abruptly. Charlie's mouth pressed itself into a thin line, and his chest stopped moving. His bright red eyes stared at Bella.

"Dad?" She could barely believe it. She'd hoped he was alive, had feared he might be dead . . . but somehow, she'd never imagined this.

Charlie made a distressed sound, struggling against his captors.

"Get a good look, Bella. This is going to be you in a few days," Victoria hissed. "Just think of all the children you can drink with him. I think we can even find little Meredith and Joshua to keep you satisfied."

Charlie's body trembled and shook, and the two vampires holding him visibly struggled to keep him in place.

The list of things Bella knew of newborn vampires was short, but its salient points were in front of her: strong, violently hungry, and completely lacking in self-control. Her blood must be driving him insane.

"She smells good, doesn't she?" Victoria hissed delightedly in Charlie's direction. "But she's not for you. We'll find you someone else—"

The movement was rapid, but for Bella it was almost in slow motion. Charlie's arms flicked off the ones holding him, the deafening crack of splintering wood filling the room. Bella squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head away, as an unexpected sense of relief flowed over her. This was better. Faster. And it was her father. She had already forgiven him as she waited for the bite that would end this.

But it never came.

There was the sound of shattering glass and hissed exclamations.

Bella looked up.

"No!" Victoria shrieked. Bella spotted Murray's feet as they disappeared out the window, but Charlie and his other captor were already gone. Victoria stared at the empty space, and then turned to Bella, howling.

Grabbing Bella's throat, Victoria yelled, "How long for the baby?"

Charlie's flight had done one thing for Bella, and one thing alone: it had given her a flicker of hope back. She didn't know if it would make any difference to her own outcome, but if it screwed with Victoria, it was worth trying.

"I don't know." Her voice croaked out the lie.

"Hours? A day?"

"A day, maybe," Bella said more easily, feeling Victoria's hand slacken.

Victoria yanked her hand away. "Murray!" She roared, but there was no answer, or at least not one that Bella could hear.

The blackness that haloed Bella's eyesight had crept further inwards, the pounding in her head now constant and all-encompassing. She closed her eyes again, still perched on her knees and the heels of her palms. The room hadn't been warm, and it was rapidly growing colder with the broken window. She shuffled herself backwards, away from the draft, sliding her body into a corner. It was becoming difficult to take a full breath.

The world-tilting dizziness was sudden. Rolling onto her side, she groaned against the mounting pains in her head and abdomen. Breathing, she blinked, feeling the spaces between her eyes' closing and opening lengthen, time distorting itself. Blinking, blacking out, and possibly dozing off became interchangeable. In the brief periods of consciousness, Bella understood that she had been left alone. Victoria and the others were gone.

Finally, a feeling she remembered all too well asserted itself, and she began to pant. It was the only thing she knew she could do to stave off the birth. Her fingers were painful sausages as she held up her hand to look at them, the broken ring finger a disturbingly numb purple.

When she saw Edward and heard him calling her name, she knew the end was close.

"Seeing things," she murmured. "Not real." She must've been having seizures and now hallucinations.

"Keep panting," her delusion said and then jabbed something into her arm.

Her, "Ow!" was lost in the next contraction, which she forgot to pant through, pushing instead.

"NO!" Imaginary Edward said. "Don't push! Whatever you do, don't push!" She could almost feel his hands on her face. "I'm here, and I'm real, and you need to not push." Then the hands were gone and her legs felt suddenly colder, as if a breeze was coming in through the broken window. The chill reached her belly and seemed to settle there for a few moments before retreating again and moving down her body.

Her tears were unnaturally cool over her swollen face, but the choked sobs were familiar. It was the most abject self-pity she had ever indulged in. This just wasn't fair. She'd lost Edward for so long, and this was the end; she wasn't even going to be able to touch him again or hold her baby with him. It was almost cruel that her mind was playing these tricks now, making her think he was here with her. She shook her head. "Not real," she murmured again, trying to keep herself from false hope. She knew better than anyone what tricks the mind could play. It was not the time to fall for them and yet . . . there was something . . .

Her thoughts were becoming more fractured. Sacrificing herself had been worth it, she told herself, even if she had to die. But Victoria had disappeared . . . what if Alice could see her now? If the Cullens could find the baby before Victoria came back, then all the children would be safe with Edward, and Victoria couldn't use her anymore. Bella needed to let the baby be born before it was too late, before her body failed her.

Still, the delusion in front of her was tenacious. "I AM REAL! STOP PUSHING, BELLA!" Then the vision of Edward pressed his lips to her swollen ones and made his presence suddenly and unmistakably tangible. It was the briefest of kisses but it was enough for her to realize that Edward was actually there. He had come for her and he would save her child.

"PANT!" He roared, grabbing another syringe from somewhere, stabbing her leg this time. There was a desperation to his actions that Bella understood: she was going to die. She thought she had called his name then, but he didn't seem to hear her as all his focus seemed to be on what was going on beyond her vision. She needed to remind him. She needed to make sure he understood something.

"The children," she gasped out, another strong contraction stealing the rest of her words. She struggled to draw more breath. She had to tell him. She raised her hand, reaching for him. "Edward, the childr-"

"Shut up!"

"You promised to—"

"Shut up and pant!" he snapped back at her.

She did, her muscles straining with her efforts, but she cried out at the new and fiery pain between her legs and the familiar pressure she was helpless to resist. Her face tensed with panic and she looked at Edward as he stilled his movements and raised his eyes to hers.

His features were transformed in that moment, grief and resignation flickering over them. He lifted her up off the ground, pulling her into an embrace so that she rested on her knees, her arms draped over his shoulders.

He was much quieter when he spoke again. "It's okay," he whispered. "You're safe now, and the baby's going to be fine." His hands brushed her hair from her face. "I love you." He kissed her cheek, and then her lips before pulling back a little. "It's time now."

She nodded, the tears still cold on her cheeks, hearing what he had said, and knowing exactly what he had left unsaid. The baby would be fine. She wouldn't be. "Okay," she said, and then pressed the heels of her hands into his shoulders, straining and screaming and pushing with all the strength that she had left.

Edward's hands were cold as they touched her intimate flesh, but she trusted them with the small body that finally slipped free from her own. Edward caught Bella before she could collapse, pressing the infant to her chest as he laid them both down on the ground. He rubbed the little back through a blanket he'd quickly wrapped around them until a soft mewling from the baby made her blink with relief

"A daughter," Edward whispered softly.

His daughter now, she mused, comforted by the thought.

Bella's arms shook, and she struggled to keep them in place around the baby. Edward had slipped a needle into her arm, and was busy connecting a tube and a bag of something to it which he hung up somewhere behind her. Then his hands were at her abdomen, kneading the now loose and tender flesh.

Her eyes were drooping, feeling heavy again. She fought to keep them open, and was rewarded by the sight of her child opening her own eyes. They were a startling vibrant blue—Matt's eyes. "Hello," she whispered.

"Can you try to nurse her?" Edward asked softly. His jaw strained as he looked at Bella. "It might help." With what, he didn't say.

"Okay," she said weakly, trying to shift her hold, but her arms were useless. It was a struggle to draw a breath.

Edward picked up the baby and held her with one arm while helping Bella open her shirt. She felt very heavy, and very tired. She could see and feel the swelling in her wrists and fingers. Putting the child to her breast, again with Edward's help, she sighed at the familiar sensation. The latch was good. The baby was healthy and strong.

"Victoria?" Bella asked again. The world felt like it was beginning to slide backwards away from her, bits and pieces of her vision flickering. She was so tired—

"They followed her," Edward said. His hands had returned to her abdomen, still kneading. His voice sounded hollow and distracted.

As the baby nursed, Bella observed Edward, seeing him inject something into the IV he had set up, dimly registering the bloody blankets beside him, watching him stuff more of them between her legs. The random irony that he must have gotten them from Victoria's stash floated in her thoughts . . . as did a question.

"How'd you find me?" she slurred out.

"Alice could suddenly see you and Victoria." He was studying her belly intently. "We don't know why."

She had an answer for him, she thought. The other vampire, what was his name? She strained for the memory. "She had a helper," she murmured. "Manny . . . no, Murray. She said he could . . . block you all."

Edward's eyes narrowed as he looked over at her. "Where is he now?"

In answer, she tried to shake her head but it was a struggle just to turn it from one side to the other. "Don't know. He . . . ran, I think." She struggled to remember why but the memory wouldn't come. "Is everyone . . . okay?"

"I'm sure they are," Edward said, trying to smile at her. The effort died on his lips as her eyelids fluttered. It was so hard for her to keep them open. "Bella, can you look at me?"

It was like lifting lead, but she did it, holding her eyelids open, fighting the desire to close them.

Edward's hands had stilled once more and he settled back on his knees as he looked at her. His voice cracked with emotion when he spoke. "Bella, I asked you once if you would want me to change you, if I couldn't save you."

The seconds stretched out like hours before she could latch onto the words, fumbling at their meanings. Their conglomerations of sound didn't make sense. Only the fuzziest intentions lurched forward in her thoughts. Edward was here. He was her home now. He was safe. He would keep bad things from happening. He could—

"The medication I've given you has stopped the seizures, but it won't hold them off much longer. Your lungs are failing and your placenta—" He looked down at her abdomen. Her gaze followed. The word registered, but only vaguely.

"I can't save you." His voice trembled. His bloody hands were now holding her arms, which had gone slack around the baby. "Please let me save you another way."

Bella's bleary eyes tried to hold onto him, sliding down to look once more at the baby that was curled up on her chest. She could barely make sense of the choice he was offering. "I love you," she whispered to the baby. To her children. To Edward. This all made sense.

"Please, don't leave me, Bella, let me change you," he whispered, leaning over her and bringing his forehead to hers. "Please, Bella. Please. Let me change you. You can't leave us. Please let me."

The darkness was greater than the light in the room, and she blinked, her weakened gaze torn between his tortured eyes and her daughter's sleepy face.

She had always known, deep down, that it would come to this, but she had thought she would have more time with her children—with him. Even when she had allowed herself to consider it, the times Edward had asked her and even when he hadn't, she had always known what her answer should be . . . would have to eventually be. And now . . . she was so tired and it was just too hard to contemplate all that she was leaving behind, or what it would mean for her family. Whether it was right or wrong, it had always been an impossible choice for her to make. With her last conscious breath, she uttered the only word she had energy for, the word that held her grief for all the losses she knew her death would bring: "No."


DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.