"What is that smell?" Rosalie asked, coming to stand by Carlisle's study door as Edward ushered Bella into the house.

Edward gave Rose a dirty look.

"Don't look at me like that. It reeks." Rose stepped closer, sniffing him, wrinkling her nose. Then she leaned towards Bella and pulled back abruptly. "What were you doing, Bella, rolling around near a dead dog?"

Thrown by the blunt commentary, Bella struggled for an appropriate reply. Edward hadn't said anything. "Um—"

"Leave if it bothers you so much." Edward growled at Rose.

"Does it really smell that bad?" Bella asked Edward quietly. She lifted her collar to her nose. There was a faint odour from where Jacob had hugged her. He had smelled off, but she'd chalked it up to how he and Billy were always terrible about getting things into the dryer quickly. Their clothing always seemed to have a musty scent.

"It is a very strong and distinct odour, yes," Carlisle said, but without judgment. He was obviously thinking about something else, his wrinkled forehead evidence of his deliberations. "How long, exactly, did it take for the symptoms to progress?"

"Not long. Maybe five minutes?" she said.

"Well, I'd be feeling pretty awful if I smelled like that."

"Rose!" Edward sounded furious.

"My bathroom and wardrobe are at your disposal, Bella." Ignoring her brother, Rosalie waved her hand in the direction of her room. "Seriously. Go take a shower."

"Actually, you should, at least your neck and shoulders." Edward's lips turned downwards as he said this.

Carlisle nodded. "I agree. As soon as you can, each time."

So Bella found herself in Rosalie and Emmett's palatial bathroom, standing under a rain-head shower, enjoying the heavy water that rushed over her. She washed herself thoroughly, figuring it was better to appease the keener noses where she could. As she scrubbed, she thought about Jacob and what she'd expected from him. Certainly his anger, yes, but his reaction to Edward worried her. She wanted, as much as she could, to make things right between these two men. Jacob had been her best friend, and he'd more than saved her when she'd needed saving.

Yet, it was clear that there was no easy peace to be made between Edward and Jacob. Her disappointment was keen. She loved Edward, and she loved Jacob, too. It grieved her that these two important people in her life seemed so contentious with each other.

At least there had been some marginal ice-thawing between Charlie and Edward, though when she thought about Charlie's parting words, things still seemed pretty frosty.

Rose's voice broke Bella's reverie. "I've left some clothes on the counter. Esme's washing your stuff. She wouldn't let me burn it." Rose sighed with this last statement.

Bella laughed. She could at least count on Rose for her unfiltered opinions.

However, her kind feelings towards Rosalie evaporated as soon as she saw the clothing she'd selected for her. Laid out on the bed was a dress. And after months of being forced to wear dresses, Bella utterly loathed them. Still, she felt it would be rude to say anything, and she'd had enough conflict for one evening. Putting on the garment, Bella noted that it was at least an ordinary sort of casual dress, a modest but form-hugging navy blue jersey with long sleeves and a hemline that met her knees. The soft fabric was comfortable.

Dinner had wound up fairly early. It was only just after nine. Charlie wouldn't head to bed until around eleven. She didn't need to rush and took the extra few minutes to blow-dry her hair, brushing it into a soft style.

She turned, looking at herself in the mirror. She looked nice, she decided, maybe to the point where some dresses weren't evil.

Maybe.

But as she walked down the stairs, she caught sight of Edward's face. The expression there was one that she liked seeing-not leering, just admiring-and it made her feel . . . beautiful. Beautiful in a way that didn't frighten her.

"You look lovely," he said.

From the living room, Emmett called, "And you don't stink anymore. Nice work, Swan!"

Either because Rosalie's comments had already rendered him immune to such provocations, or because he'd learned to tune Emmett out in general, Edward did not react to his brother's taunting. Yet, after a moment, his eyebrows nudged together.

"What?" Bella asked.

"Emmett just had an interesting theory."

"It was a joke," Emmett said, "but it sounds way more impressive when you call it a theory."

She watched Edward frown, obviously thinking hard. "Well?" she asked, walking beside him towards Carlisle's study.

"It was fairly soon after Jacob arrived that your symptoms began to progress, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Bella said.

Edward's frown became more pronounced.

"Edward," Bella said calmly, "it's incredibly frustrating when you reply to someone's thoughts but then don't tell the rest of us what you've heard."

She watched Carlisle's microscopic grin form. She wasn't alone in this opinion.

"I'm sorry," Edward said softly. "Emmett was thinking about how obnoxious we find the wolves—"

"That's not what I was thinking!" Emmett's voice boomed from the other side of the house.

Edward ignored his brother. "You've been exposed to vampire venom. It's affected you physiologically, and Emmett wondered if the chemistry might make you react to at least the wolf smell in a negative way."

Now it was Bella's turn to frown. She thought about Jacob's musty laundry smell. "What do the pack members smell like to you?"

The reactions between Edward and Carlisle could not be more disparate. Carlisle appeared thoughtful, while Edward's face wrinkled in disgust.

"Pungent." Carlisle's tone was polite, as it always was.

"Like a wet, mildewy dog," Edward said, "after it's rolled itself in a vat of rotting fish."

"Mildew?" Bella asked. There'd been other tinges in Jacob's odour, too, now that she thought about it. Pungent was the right word. "Jacob did smell bad, but I thought it was his laundry."

Edward and Carlisle eyed each other. "Has there been any other change in your symptoms, Bella? Anything at all, even something small that you might otherwise dismiss?" Carlisle asked.

She thought of how she'd perceived Edward. "After you treated me, it . . . " She paused, feeling silly. "You seemed clearer, somehow."

"Just me?" Edward asked.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Everything did. Sharper, I guess."

"Like you could see better," Edward suggested.

Her vision was twenty-twenty, so it wasn't like there was anything wrong with it, but it had felt improved somehow. "Yes."

The look between the two men returned, and her gut twisted with anxiety. "What?"

Carlisle nudged a chair forward in invitation and Bella sat down, as did Carlisle, facing her.

"We don't know a lot about the effects of venom beyond when it enters the human bloodstream, but given what we do know of that, we're wondering if it is . . . altering you in some way, at least temporarily." Carlisle didn't look happy as he said this. "More importantly, we don't know what kind of impact that is having on your body. However, given what your reaction was in the presence of a pack member, I'd advise against being near them for the time being."

Not be near her best friend? In her last months of this life? Her eyes teared up just thinking of it. It was another grief, layered on top of so many others.

"Are you sure?" she finally asked.

"No," Carlisle said, opening his mouth to say more—

"You're not a guinea pig," Edward said, voice firm. "We don't know, and we aren't going to experiment." His words seemed more for Carlisle than her.

Her thoughts were full of Jacob and the potential loss before her. From this, her anger rose. The Volturi would take her human life; they would take her relationship with her father. But they wouldn't rob her of the chance to say goodbye to her friend—nor would she let a theory rob her of it, either.

"It's just a theory, then. If it happens the next time I see him, we'll know it's more than that."

"Next time?" Edward asked.

"Yes, next time," she said, not liking the tone he was taking.

Edward's jaw tightened. "Bella, these are shapeshifting wolves."

"I know what they are, and I know what they're like," she said evenly. "I spent a lot of time with them while you were gone."

Although brief, it was a pained expression that flickered in Edward's features. "Yes. You did." He hesitated for a moment, clearly struggling with his next words. "But you weren't having this . . . issue then."

Am I being selfish? Bella thought, suddenly doubting herself. She had hurt Edward so much already, and his point about the venom addiction was something that worried him. But this was Jacob—and Jacob would never hurt her. She had so little time left with her best friend. Not to be able to see him—

"Edward," Carlisle said calmly, "perhaps Bella and I could speak alone for a few minutes?"

"Of course," Edward said. He looked to Bella, who nodded at him before he left the room.

Carlisle cocked his head to the side. She wondered if he was waiting for Edward to be far enough away for them to have some privacy. When he looked at her, his forehead was wrinkled with what she recognized as worry. "Edward is concerned with your health, though he struggles to be tactful in expressing himself about this."

That was one way of putting it. But Jacob—"Jacob's my best friend, Carlisle. You're both asking me to give him up."

"I'm not asking you to give up your friend, nor is Edward, but I am asking that you put your health first."

Bella took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm not trying to be reckless with my health. It's just that this is only a theory. It could've been the fact that I was stressed, too."

"That could be the case. Surely, though, you can see it being reasonable not to test this theory too much, given the strain on your heart—and what is at stake." Carlisle looked toward the doorway through which Edward had left, his expression thoughtful.

There were so many ways to measure the strain on one's heart, Bella thought. But Carlisle had a good point. "If it happens again, then yes. I can . . . agree to see Jacob less often."

"Perhaps we could discuss ways to minimize the risk, at least until we know that being with your friends is safe for you."

"Like what?" she asked. She was not sure any solution could please everyone, but she was anxious to hear his ideas.

"You don't have to decide anything right now," Carlisle said. "But it might be as simple as making sure that one of us is close enough to help, should the need suddenly arise." His expression and his tone grew more serious. "That could mean that your having an issue if you are visiting the reservation could create some problems unless we can form an understanding with the pack that they will evacuate you immediately should you require it. Or that one of our family would be allowed to cross the treaty line in an emergency."

Bella could see the quandary with this suggestion. "But I'll have to explain why to Jake, which is going to create other problems."

"Yes," Carlisle agreed, his tone back to being calm and measured. She supposed her heart rate had picked up again. "It will, but they are not problems about which I want you to worry. If anything, I want you to avoid any stress. We would be happy to negotiate with the pack on your behalf."

Having to stay away from her best friend after being forced apart for months fell squarely into the stressful category for Bella.

While she was all for reducing her stress, she wasn't at all in favour of being excluded from plans that involved her future. Given the treaty between the Cullens and the wolves and the fact that Edward would be required to break that treaty to keep his word to the Volturi, there were going to be other difficult conversations to be had with the Quileutes. "I think I need to be involved in those decisions and discussions, Carlisle. This is my life, and my being changed is because of what I did, ultimately."

Carlisle leaned back in his chair, fingers weaving together and apart in a practiced doctor-like mannerism.

A quiet but deliberately audible set of footsteps drew both their gazes to the door.

"Do you know the other pack members well?" Esme asked, coming to sit beside Carlisle.

"A little," Bella said.

"Her friendships will make for an easier opening, certainly," she said to Carlisle.

"Though I'm sure they will soften the beginning of the conversation, I doubt their sociability will have an impact on the ending," Carlisle said, a sad note in his voice.

No, Bella knew the wolves would be anything but happy about what she would become. But there was nothing to do on that front, and if they attempted to interfere, they risked their lives and the lives of all the people nearby. She thought of the Volturi coming to Forks, coming near the wolves—coming near Charlie.

"If we explain the Volturi to them, surely they'll understand," she said. As soon as she said it, she knew it was probably not an easy decision for the Cullens to mention the Volturi. Wasn't that breaking the cardinal rule for their kind?

"As I said," Carlisle said softly, the look on his face confirming her thought, "I don't want you to worry about it. We will find a way."

Bella shook her head. She wished she could say she was only thinking about it, but it wouldn't be true. Worry coloured every aspect of her thinking. "I'll worry about it until it's taken care of. I'll need to talk to them."

"Not without us." Edward had returned.

"They won't hurt me."

"Not intentionally, no. But I saw enough in Jacob's mind to understand just exactly where a wolf's good intentions can lead." With all the seats taken in the small office, he leaned against the wall nearest Bella, arms folded.

Bella thought of Emily and Sam. Yes, she understood why he was fearful. But Jacob had never hurt her, and despite the fear he had always expressed, Edward had never hurt her just by being near her either. A small voice inside her head reminded her that this wasn't strictly true if she considered the events of her birthday party, but she silenced it and ignored the small stab of guilt for doing so.

Carlisle studied Bella for a moment, standing up and moving to one of the wall-mounted cabinets. From inside, he pulled out a small vial of pills.

"What are you doing? No!" Edward's voice sounded positively incredulous—betrayed, even. His facial expression matched his tone.

Carlisle paused, halfway through extending his arm, ready to hand the bottle to Bella. "These are very mild sedatives. They'll help with sleep, but more importantly, they'll help with anxiety, of which you have a great deal and with very good cause." He looked from Bella to Edward again, clearly puzzled by his son's reaction. Edward had given up his casual pose, pushing off the wall to stand facing his father.

Stuck between them, Bella sat, chewing on her lip. She reminded herself how much she loved Edward and how much he loved her. She reminded herself how frightening it was for him, having her be human and vulnerable. Looking at the pills, she knew they must seem like a loaded gun after what had almost happened in Volterra. She was mildly surprised that Carlisle was offering them until she realized that Edward must have kept the specifics of that awful day to himself. She felt a moment's gratitude that he had provided her that modicum of dignity, but the fact remained that she was no longer suicidal and had no reason to be. Edward had no justification for trying to exert this level of control now. Even thinking about this made her feel like Demetri's hand had snaked out of Italy, slithering its cold way around her body—

"I need to be part of the process, making decisions about my health," she said, her voice low and quiet, almost shaking. "I will always listen to reasoned arguments, but I need to know that my choices will be respected."

She moved her gaze around the room, taking in Edward, Carlisle, and Esme's very still postures. No one challenged her words though there was some silent struggle in Edward's face.

"How often do I take them, and how many do I take?" Bella asked Carlisle.

"Just one, as you need, but no more than once every six hours," Carlisle said. He finished extending his arm so that she could take the plastic vial, but he watched Edward as he did so.

The small bottle rattled in her hand as she accepted it, glancing at the label before tucking it into her fist. Edward would have heard the medication's name in his father's mind, and it was the same type she'd had in Volterra. No wonder he was upset. With her face feeling flushed, she stared at the carpeted floor, waiting for Edward's challenge. He had to know she wasn't suicidal. It wasn't a risk. Please understand, she thought. Please respect my choices. You've already kept that secret for me once, please do it now.

"Of course, Carlisle will know best." Edward sounded contrite as he spoke to Bella. "Please excuse my . . . overreaction."

"Okay," she said, voice still shaky, her shoulders slumping in relief.

"It's getting late," Esme observed. "Did you tell your father when you'd be home?"

Bella glanced at the small clock on the wall. It wasn't late, per se, but it had been a long day, and she was tired. "I didn't, but I should get going soon."

"I'll take you," Edward said.

"Thank you," Bella said, still not looking at him. They needed to talk, but she was anxious about what the fruit of such a conversation would be.

The rest of the Cullens made quiet goodbyes as she and Edward headed back towards the garage. Bella clutched the pills in her hand. She wasn't sure where things stood between her and Edward, and really, she wasn't so sure where things stood with herself. The pills rattled as she walked, and she stared at them as Edward started the car.

"I'm not suicidal," she said, once they were on the road to her house.

Edward didn't say anything, but he looked at her as she did him.

"Do you not believe me?" she asked.

"I believe you." His hands gripped the wheel tightly.

She had more than frightened him with her attempt before, and she considered again what he and Rose had said about vampires not experiencing trauma. "I can give them to Charlie to hold onto. He'll think it's because—"

"No," Edward said softly. One of his hands left the steering wheel, as if to travel towards her. He paused, his hand in midair, then put it back on the wheel. "I trust you, Bella. And I don't think you should give them to Charlie since a person being treated for a real drug withdrawal shouldn't have access to them."

She hadn't thought of it that way. "Or you can hold onto them. I can tell you if I feel the need to take one."

He grimaced, shaking his head. "I said I trust you."

"I don't doubt your trust, Edward. I just don't want you to be concerned."

He rounded the corner of her street, pulling up in front of her house, turning off the ignition. "You don't need to worry about me."

"But you need to worry about me?"

He smiled and chuckled. "This might come as a great shock, but I'm known to be a bit of a worrier."

"Terrible shock," she replied, her own laugh light though still uneasy. She looked at the pills, then twisted off the cap and took one of them out, showing him the single tablet before putting it under her tongue. Then she held out the bottle.

Edward shook his head again. "I trust you."

She retracted her hand, thinking for a moment about where she would keep them. Edward was right. If her cover story was that she was being treated for an addiction, no doctor in their right mind would prescribe these pills to her. She thought of Charlie's muted reaction to her disclosure. She'd expected more in the way of fireworks, and she paused, sighing a little as she realized why he'd been so quiet. "He's either gone through my stuff or is going to, isn't he?"

"If he has, I can't tell, but he's certainly considered it."

Bella set the vial down in one of the cupholders. "Then you should hold onto them."

Edward nodded. His hand flinched on the wheel again.

She thought of what she could offer him, for she wanted to offer him something—offer them something—the simple reassurance of touch and trust. "Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Can I touch you?"

Though the interior of the car was dim, enough cloudy light filtered in through the twilight to illuminate his now bright eyes. "Yes," he said.

Slowly, she extended her hand towards his face, fingers hovering near his hair. They landed in the still silky softness she remembered, trailing down his cheek. She watched his eyes close and his features relax, a quiet, rumbling hum buzzing in his throat.

The last of the day's light was gone when her hand slipped away from him.

"I love you," he said softly.

Her throat was too tight to let words through. She had to swallow twice before she could speak. "I love you, too."

He walked her to the front door, standing a foot closer than he normally did. "I'll be nearby if you need me."

She nodded, understanding. It wouldn't do to have Charlie have to see him again so soon. There had been enough tension in everyone's evening so far.

"Just say my name and I'll come," Edward said. He disappeared then, slipping into the darkness so easily, she had to blink, trying to see exactly where he'd gone.

A/N for 2020-09-18: Thank goodness it is Friday! And what a week, too - first full week of school, a full week of wildfire smoke and one teacher ready to fall over into the weekend. Looking forward to getting some writing done on this story and not working about marking or school at all.

As always, my gratitude to Chayasara and Eeyorefan12 for all that they do.

A reading recommendation: I just finished reading The Remnants by maembe13. If you enjoy a good dark tale, then boy is this one for you. It's an AU on the first Twilight book and features Bella and Edward . . . sort of, well, you'll see. Do yourself a favour and go read it. The writing is excellent, the plot structure is captivating, and just when you think you know what's happening, the story surprises you again. It's one of the ones I plan to reread to appreciate all its nuances.

- Erin

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