A/N for 2020-12-04: I'm grateful to be fairly well and whole today, barring some minor age-related discomforts. It seems more and more important in the midst of this pandemic to be that - grateful. I'm also very grateful for Chayasara and Eeyorefan12, the two of whom practically wrote a novel this week via the comments on this story. I learn a lot from them, and I'm very grateful for their efforts.
Happy reading, all. See you next week.
- Erin
The room fell silent. Bella caught Carlisle's quick glance at her before his gaze settled on his son. She'd never seen Carlisle so visibly anxious. Jacob just looked angry. And Edward—Edward was an emotionless statue.
Her heart rate began ticking upwards, a possessed metronome for some monstrous symphony. She and everyone else in the room had just betrayed Edward, betrayed everything he'd worked toward.
Whereas Edward's last words had been a growl, now they were soft and gentle. "I need to treat you, Bella." He looked pointedly at Jacob and then Carlisle.
Carlisle disappeared first and Jacob followed, both with wary gaits and stiff shoulders.
Edward's eyes were a bright gold, and she focused on that aspect of him as he moved closer. The rest of his body was tight with a mixture of feelings she did not have to work too hard to imagine: anger, betrayal, worry. This is Edward, she told herself, feeling the fear beginning to stir in her gut. Despite the assurances of her mind, her body was wary, believing no vampire safe, especially one so obviously stirred by such strong and negative feelings. So when Edward's hand slipped under her back to help her sit up, she flinched.
Edward stopped moving, finding her eyes with his gaze. "When you're ready."
She forced her head to move in a slow nod, her breathing still too quick.
It was testament to his alarm that Edward took this disingenuous movement as a sign to begin, not even asking her permission before he brought his tongue to the base of her neck.
Her body finally relaxed under the influence of the venom, and she resented again her corporeal refusal to listen to her mind. She trusted Edward. She just couldn't get her body to do so consistently.
Very slowly, because she was weak and woozy, she brought her arms up so they circled his back. The effects of the venom made it so hard to focus, even on this. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know you don't want me to be like you."
He trembled slightly in response. She couldn't see his face, and he didn't stop moving his tongue. She supposed he was too worried to do so.
"I didn't want it either, Edward, but . . . my reasons not to be changed aren't good enough anymore." Her voice shook with emotion. "I want to be with you."
Another shiver in his back.
"Please say something." She closed her eyes, tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks. She couldn't stand the idea of his dying because she would, but the thought of him leaving her emotionally was even more brutalizing. He might, she knew, given what she'd just done. She'd betrayed him again.
"This is keeping you alive right now. I need to finish." He kept licking.
"Okay." She tried to blink away the tears, clinging to him still, afraid that if she let go she'd find him gone. Afraid that he might not come back. She struggled to hold onto consciousness. "I don't want to lose you, Edward. Promise me you'll stay, no matter what. Don't leave me." She was in no position to make demands, but her desperation pushed words from her mouth. "Please. Tell me you'll stay. Please."
Abruptly stopping his work, he cupped her cheeks with his hands and held her so she was forced to look into his concerned face. "I have already promised you that I will not leave you—I never will. I meant it then, and I'll mean it always." He brushed his hand over her hair, his eyes never leaving hers, the intensity of his gaze daring her to disbelieve him. "Never." Then he leaned forward and kissed her, nudging her lips open with his tongue and making her forget everything else.
She slept or she was unconscious. She wasn't sure, but her sense of hearing lingered near consciousness, and as her thoughts meandered through hazy recollections of the last day's events, it was caught up in the sounds that filtered through her dreamlike state. A slow and mournful melody made its murky way through her thoughts, tinkling bright phrases recalling a string of notes she'd heard before. With the most focused concentration she could manage, she tried to chase the music, attempting to follow it to its conclusion, but it didn't seem to end, maddeningly cycling through itself over and over again, the tonality sliding from major to minor to some atonal bastardization of the melody. When she finally sank beyond its reach, it was to a deep oblivion, so much so that she wondered if she was actually dying. Even that terrifying thought was not enough to rouse her from the full rest her body finally demanded.
The sun angled into the house from the side opposite from when she'd last been awake. When she moved her arms, they didn't ache, and as Bella cast her awareness over her body, she realized that she felt . . . well, better than she'd felt in some time. As she shifted her legs and began to move, she noticed that she wasn't in the hospital bed anymore. Blinking, she took in the room. The medical equipment was gone. She was in the bed she'd been sleeping in since they'd arrived, and Edward was perched at its foot facing her, his legs crossed and hands folded together. He reminded her of a statue of an angel, his beautiful face carved with sombre features.
"You shouldn't need any more treatment beyond what I can do," he said calmly.
The morning's events came rushing back to her. She presumed it was the same day though she supposed it really didn't matter.
"Okay," she said, suddenly nervous. She had betrayed him in seeking Jacob's assent and in doing it in such a way that Carlisle would choose to involve himself.
He returned to his marblelike pose, and she looked down at the bedspread, trying to figure out how to navigate a conversation that felt like walking through poured concrete.
"Are you angry with me, Edward? I'll understand if you are." It felt brave when she lifted her gaze to find his.
"You think I should be angry with you?" he asked.
She nodded slowly and warily.
"Oh, Bella." He shook his head. "I am angry with . . . the universe. With fate. With Demetri. With the Volturi. With—I am not angry with you." He stretched out and crawled on his hands and knees to come sit beside her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the top of her head. "I love you."
Taking in a shaky breath, she released it along with tears of relief, returning his embrace. "I love you so much. I don't want to leave you. We haven't had enough time—"
"We have not," he whispered into her hair, his lips planting another kiss there.
When he pulled away, there was still sadness in his features. "I have always wanted you to have a full life—a human life—and you have been robbed of that in great part because of . . ." He sighed, shaking his head.
He didn't need to say why they were where they were. She knew. But she was glad that he didn't take it all on himself. They had both made choices that had brought them to this point.
Bella smiled a tiny and rueful smile. "Yes, I know. You have always wanted that for me, even when I thought I didn't want it for myself. Not that I think you've forgotten—perhaps it's been buried in the more recent past, but I asked for this before, Edward. Until a few months ago, I would've given anything to be like you. It's only because of how much you loved me and wanted to protect me that I am not one of you now because I begged you for it even before I knew what I was asking for. It was . . . well, we're back at the beginning, in some ways."
"You weren't dying then," Edward said.
"Not this quickly, no." She smiled at him again, more wryly than ruefully. There were so many things she could say—how she'd felt like every moment she was changing and growing older was time she was another step closer to a final parting; how it had made her need to be changed so much more immediate. Still, that was then and this is now. And before her, she had the man she loved who was struggling with watching her lose the life he'd worked so hard to preserve against such great odds.
She put her hand on his chest. "I know my human life has to end, but I'll be creating a new one with you."
His fingers wiped at the tears on her cheek, tracing her jaw and then the length of her neck. She felt her skin heat with the flush of feelings that his touch raised. "I will not minimize what you know of my kind, but every single person in my family will disagree with you about this simply being an exchange of one life for another. Don't think there isn't grief and loss in becoming what we are, Bella, because there is. So much."
"I've gotten a pretty good idea of what grief and loss look like in the last year, even breathing and human and everything." She smiled weakly. "You never lied to me about this part, Edward. You always told me there was a darker side to being what you are, and I refused to believe you. I just . . . all I knew was how much I wanted you. But Demetri and Aro set me straight. Seeing what the Volturi are capable of made me afraid to be like them."
Edward frowned before he looked away briefly and then back at her. "And after seeing all of that, experiencing that level of cruelty, you want this life? To be what I am? Like them?"
"But I won't be like them. I'll be like you, like Carlisle and Esme, Alice . . . all of you. I'll be someone strong enough to deny her nature and still have the ability to love someone with everything I am. That's who I want to be. I look at you and your family, and I see how each one of you would sacrifice for the other . . . and are sacrificing right now for both of us. Out of love. And if becoming like you means I will be someone capable of that, then I'm okay with it. Because of you, I have a choice. I choose this. I choose you."
Edward pinched the bridge of his nose briefly before dropping his hand back into his lap. "Then surely, knowing how much you have already sacrificed and how much more you are offering to give up now, you can see that I'm struggling to believe this is what you really want, that you aren't doing this for me?"
Bella spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable. "Edward, I love you. I want you. Would I choose this without you? I honestly don't know, but we wouldn't be here now if we hadn't fought for each other. Right now, immortality with you over death sounds like a pretty good deal."
Edward studied her for a moment. "Have you really been thinking that I would rather you be dead than immortal?"
She wanted to joke, to say something like, 'I kinda wondered, given the reaction,' but didn't, whispering instead, "I haven't been sure what to think."
The pretense of his smile disappeared. "I'm sorry for how angry I've been, Bella. I am struggling, not because I don't want you—I so very selfishly want you to be with me forever—but I am still angry that your life is being taken from you. I grieve it deeply, and at the same time, I loathe my own happiness at knowing I won't ever have to lose you." He frowned again. "There will be no children, no family—"
"I've never wanted children, Edward. And I will have family with you."
His frown persisted. She suspected he was holding back arguments like the ones he'd made before, that she was barely out of childhood herself. How could she even know of those longings?
Well, there wasn't exactly time for her to experience those longings now.
"You've always told me that all you want is for me to be happy. Even when you've made choices for me, right or wrong, your motives were always to keep me safe and give me a full life, as you call it. I believe that of you. Now it's your turn. I've made my choice, and I'm asking you to believe me. I want this, Edward. I want a life with you."
He nodded, the uncertainty on his face not quite resolved, but she had the feeling he was getting there. She hoped so because she wasn't quite done with all she would ask him for. She reached for him again, and he followed her lead, gathering her up into his embrace on his lap. They stayed this way for some time, he nuzzling the top of her head, she feathering her hands over his forearms. It was comforting to be together this way.
"There has never been a question of me wanting you," Edward murmured.
She sighed in relief. It was still so easy to be insecure despite all they'd been through.
Part of that insecurity nudged at her now, and she was glad that her face was hidden from him. It felt like too much to ask him this now, but if she didn't do it immediately, she feared her courage would falter later. The question she wanted to ask needled her gut.
He wants you, she reminded herself. He wants to be with you.
"Edward?"
"Yes?" His nuzzling continued.
God, how did she ask? "Would it—would it be too much—I know my blood is—I know . . ." She sighed in frustration.
"What is it?" He leaned back a little so they could look at each other.
"Could it be you who . . . changes me? Not Carlisle?" She held her breath, too anxious for the answer.
He blinked once as he watched her for a moment. "Breathe," he commanded gently.
She did, shakily releasing the air.
"You want me to change you?"
She nodded quickly, nerves silencing her words.
"You're afraid I'm going to say no." His arms tightened around her again. "I've given you so much reason to doubt me," he mused aloud, "but my answer is yes. I will do it if that's what you want."
She let out another breath. "Thank you," she said, leaning into him, allowing herself the respite of relief.
- 0 -
It was an awkward dinner for Bella, sitting together with Jacob, Edward, and Carlisle. Everyone was very quiet. Bella hadn't expected Jacob to join them, but here he was, trying to look interested in the food Edward had prepared. Bella struggled with the same task. She just wasn't that hungry anymore. Still, she poked at her food and forced herself to consume some of it.
Ever mindful of Edward and his body language, Bella noticed the subtle stiffening in his shoulders paired with a sidelong glance at Jacob.
"What?" she asked, looking first to Edward and then to Jacob.
Edward frowned slightly at Jacob but then softened his features for her. "I think it's best to discuss it openly."
Jacob sighed but nodded. "Bella, I don't want to be here when it happens."
"When what . . .?" Oh. Of course he didn't. Right. "I understand." Her eyebrows furrowed. "Um, will you go home?"
"No." He didn't look at her, still nudging his food around on his plate. "I'll . . . still be close so they can't . . . " He shrugged.
She reached across the table to take his hand, but he pulled it away.
"Don't—"
"Sorry," she muttered.
"Don't be sorry." He met her gaze. "I don't want you to die, Bells. I just—I'm still wrapping my head around . . . this." He stood up, nearly toppling his chair. "Thank you for dinner. Excuse me." Picking up his plate, he retreated to the kitchen, and then Bella heard his footsteps fading down the long hall that led to Jacob's private quarters, not that they would be his for long
She thought of how difficult it had been for Jacob to stay with them, even after all his early optimism—his very youthful stoicism. He must be relieved in some ways, being freed of this obligation but feeling guilty too. And that was when she realized what such feelings must be spurring him to do. She turned to Edward. "I'm not going to see him again—before it happens, am I?"
Edward answered by curling his hand around hers.
Awkwardly, she wiped her face with her other hand. The tears came so easily now as did exhaustion.
"This part sucks," she said.
Edward gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. "It's a lot for him to deal with, not only seeing you ill or in pain, but it goes against his nature to choose not to protect you. We, Carlisle and I at least, are supposed to be his mortal enemies. We are all asking a great deal of him."
"Yes." She hadn't really thought of that part of it until Edward said it, but Jake was her friend, and he'd given his permission for the thing that would keep her from truly dying. It was also the thing that could make her, as Edward suggested, Jake's mortal enemy. She couldn't help thinking he was a better friend than she had been in this. "Isn't there anything we can do to make any of this better for him?"
Edward shook his head. "Not beyond giving him the distance he's asking for." She wondered if Edward preferred that distance as well. Having a disapproving audience for what was to come probably wasn't high on his list of preferences either.
With a sigh, she returned her gaze to her dinner plate, which disappeared when she blinked. Carlisle had also left the table, and from the sound of the water running in the kitchen, she knew he was cleaning up.
Men who cleaned up. She smiled a little at this notion, thinking of her father. As with all thoughts of him now, it stabbed emotionally. He would be okay, she told herself. He would.
"How long can we wait?" she asked.
Edward's hand still held hers, and he rubbed his thumb lightly over the back of it. "Even with your medication and treatments, a week, possibly a few days more before it's no longer safe to wait."
A week. She repeated the words in her head. As a child, she'd counted her time away from home in weeks. A few weeks with Charlie each summer, sometimes in Forks, sometimes in sunnier locales. The weeks had been interminable then, feeling like they'd stretch forever, keeping her from home and the undiluted sun. And yet, those weeks had always managed to shrink down to that final day or night. It had been reassuring then, knowing the seemingly insurmountable length of days would end. Now, though, the week before her felt very, very short. Time was not a reliable friend.
With this fresh understanding came a loud shushing in her ears, her heart beating its blaring and unfaithful rhythms. She counted out the long and steadying breaths she took, marshalling her body's tempos back into line. There was not much time remaining to her, and the things she wanted in her limited days were becoming much clearer. "I'd really like to watch the sunset. Can we sit outside for a little while?" she asked.
"Certainly."
Edward carried her to one of the loungers that dotted the veranda, holding her as they watched the light melt into the horizon.
"You know, the sun will still set when you're changed," Edward said, cocking an eyebrow at her.
Bella chuckled. She hoped it was a good sign that he had just teased her a little, but she let her gaze drift over his face, just to be sure.
"It will," she agreed, ignoring the horizon, keeping her eyes on him and fiddling with the top button of his shirt, twisting it against the tether of its threads.
"But I have a feeling you didn't want to come outside just to admire the sunset."
Her cheeks warmed. No. She hadn't. With a tap to the button's front, she pulled her hand away and looked into his eyes. "No. I wanted to ask you for something."
Edward had kept his arms wrapped loosely around her since they'd settled on the chaise. Now he curled one of his fingers around a lock of her hair, releasing it to twirl away and then capturing it again to repeat this gesture. He seemed so calm. "I can tell that you're quite anxious about whatever it is."
That was an understatement. It would be useless to deny it. It wasn't as if he couldn't see and hear the physical signs for himself.
"It isn't a pony, is it?"
"What?" Startled out of her tense contemplations, if Bella hadn't already been looking at him, she would have missed the glint of mischief in his eyes before it was gone again. Still, he couldn't quite hide his struggle to contain his smile as one side of his mouth twitched with the effort.
"I was just wondering if that was what you were going to ask for." Edward continued speaking as if they were discussing something completely mundane, both his expression and tone all mock seriousness. "Although I'm not sure it's feasible at this point in time since—"
Playfully slapping her hand over his mouth, Bella couldn't help the half-laugh, half-sob that burst out of her. For someone who wasn't given to silliness, he couldn't have picked a better moment to try to alleviate the tension. Although his mouth was still covered, Bella could feel Edward grinning behind her hand and see his eyes twinkling at her. God! How she loved him. Surely that love could help keep her strong enough to continue the conversation she'd brought him here for.
She changed her mind now about not touching him while discussing this, removing her hand from his face and weaving her fingers through the hair at the back of his head, wishing it was long enough for her to grab. Even with the brief respite from the heaviness of the moment, her damn heart still thudded irregularly with nervous energy. She swallowed hard and locked her eyes with his. "Edward, I . . . want to be with you—I want us to be together, before I'm changed."
The tiny pucker between his eyebrows smoothed out as his eyes widened slightly. "Together . . ."
"Yes."
After watching the understanding dawn on his face, she grasped just how selfish her request was, and she immediately regretted asking him. He'd never wanted that for them, had never even suggested it. Yet, here she was, twisting his arm with what was essentially a deathbed request. Why had she said anything before really thinking about it?
"I'm sorry—that was—it's not—"
His fingers snaked into her hair, mirroring the position hers had in his. "It's a perfectly reasonable request, especially—" He furrowed his eyebrows again. "It's entirely understandable."
Her guilt doubled. He was rationalizing her request, and he was going to acquiesce because she was dying.
"Please don't say yes out of guilt."
His lips twitched briefly in a smile. "Why do you want this, Bella?" he asked, serious again.
How he could confound her. "It—never mind. I shouldn't have asked. I'm not thinking clearly—"
"Take all the time you need to think, but I want to know the answer." He smoothed his hand over her hair, letting it come to rest on her back.
She groaned, putting her face into her hands. "Edward, I meant it. I shouldn't have said anything—"
Though his voice was gentle, there was a firm edge to it. "Tell me why, please."
Letting her hands fall to her lap, she sighed. It really wasn't fair to withhold an answer. Regret made her stomach churn. "When I'm changed, I know that I won't care about much beyond blood for the first while—that there's a very good chance I won't be interested in anything besides that."
Edward nodded, encouraging her to continue.
It was harder to say the next part, despite all the progress she'd—they'd—made. "I've wondered what it would be like to be with you when I'm not in the throes of bloodlust. But I . . ."
"But you . . .?"
"I also don't want to remember—I don't want to remember what Demetri did. I want a stronger memory than that—a better one. But it's—I don't know if that would work, and it isn't fair to you for me to ask because let's face it, if I ask for anything at this point, I know you're going to try to make it happen. I'm sorry for saying anything."
He didn't speak for a moment, still studying her face quietly to the point that she looked away, uncomfortable under his scrutiny.
"I think you're labouring under a misconception." He put the tip of his finger under her chin, lifting it gently to turn her gaze back to his. "Yes, your human body is dying, but you've asked me to change you. Remember, I'm the selfish creature that wants you to be forever—and now I get my way. I have extraordinary guilt over that, but as for the leverage you imagine your request holding—you're wrong." He grinned his beautiful tilted smile that made her stop thinking. "Do I want you? Do I want what you're asking? God, yes." The smile disappeared. "Am I still anxious and terrified of hurting you by doing so? Absolutely. But I think, given the progress we've made, that we can try—with the emphasis on the word try."
Bella stared at him, blinking in amazement.
"Please, take a breath" he said, sounding amused.
She did, still staring. Was it really going to be this easy?
"For the second time today, my answer is yes."
Her capacity to speak fled as quickly as had her ability to breathe, so she leaned in and kissed him, her quiet moan matching his. She tucked her head under his chin, and he rested his cheek against her hair.
"But a pony would be easier," Edward mumbled under his breath.
This time, Bella laughed with more energy than she had to spare or had felt in some time. Her heart felt equal parts light and heavy as they sat coiled together in an embrace under the sun's dwindling rays, watching the light slip down past the dimming horizon.
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.
