A/N for 2020-12-18: Today marks the last teaching day for 2020, and I can't say I was sorry to see the end of it. I'm hoping you're all keeping well and healthy.

As always, my most sincere thanks to Chayasara and Eeyorefan12 for their work on this story. They inform me and keep me in chuckles with their whip-smart commentary.

Happy reading, and happy holidays, folks.

- Erin


Bella felt a little bit like she was in heaven, not the literal I-think-I-might-be-dead heaven, but the sort of blissful sleepy happiness that she had once imagined would follow the sorts of activities in which she and Edward had engaged. The light in the room was very low, the glow from the bedside lamps muted and soft. Everything felt golden in their light—or perhaps it was the way she was looking at things.

A soft hum escaped with her next exhale and the cool arm that was wrapped around her began to slip away.

"No!" she said, grabbing Edward's wrist. She didn't want the slightest thing to change in this blissful scenario.

"You're cold," Edward said softly, continuing to lift his arm, then pulling the blanket back up over her, resettling himself back where he'd been.

She was cold, she realized, and she was mildly bothered that this fact, and Edward's attention to it, were distracting her from all her other rather pleasant and mushy feelings. But the cold continued to creep up from her hands and arms towards her chest, the sensation turning into a more sinister tingling along the way.

"Mmm," she said, squirming a little and rolling over to face Edward.

By the time his face came into view, she wished she'd stayed put. His forehead was wrinkled with worry, and as he moved to kiss her, she felt the tell-tale wedge of his tongue at her lips.

Not just a kiss, then, she thought.

Despite their intimacy, the need for this still-medical treatment unnerved her. It was like Demetri's shadow hung over her, no matter how many days and weeks were between then and now.

Not for long, though, she assured herself, not for long.

Edward's venom acted quickly, especially since he no longer had to limit the time his mouth was on hers, and it soothed for now the squiggling tremors in her body. Her fingertips and toes remained stubbornly tingly, like she'd just come in from a walk on a frosty evening. She wiggled these extremities, but the sensation remained.

"What?" Edward asked.

She shook her head, feeling woozy at the movement. God, she was so tired all the time, so weak—

"Bella, please tell me what you're feeling." His tone seemed urgent.

"Just some numbness in my fingers and toes," she mumbled.

The wrinkles returned to his forehead briefly and then disappeared, like he was realizing something . . . accepting something?

Oh. Her fuzzy brain finally grasped the realization too. "It's . . . time, isn't it?"

"Very soon, yes." His eyes studied hers, and he moved his hand slowly over the back of her head, smoothing down her hair.

She wanted to reciprocate, but even the thought of lifting her hand was suddenly exhausting. Sleep was tugging at her.

"Rest now," Edward whispered.

She didn't want to sleep though she could feel her body needed it. She had just woken up, after all. Perhaps something could smooth the way. She reached out and laid her hand on his arm as she looked up at him. "In a bit, but maybe you can help me get back to sleep?"

He nodded quickly but then frowned a little, his eyes widening. "Bella, with your current symptoms, I don't think—"

She laughed, a low throaty sort of chuckle. "Not that, no. I was wondering if you would play for me."

"The piano?"

Her smile widened. "Well, given that apparently I'm not up for you playing me, yes."

He made a good show of rolling his eyes.

With her smile still on her lips, she continued. "It always helps me when you play. Even in Volterra—when I thought I was hearing things—it helped. And the other day too."

She knew he would be reluctant to leave her side even for this short distance, and she was reluctant to have him be away either, but hearing his music was something she would have even in sleep. Her one unsleeping sense would know his presence, and that would be enough to let her leave consciousness behind again.

When sleep finally came, it was in fitful spurts, wakefulness giving her brief glimpses of the altered darkness as the moon's travelling light made small changes to the room's landscape. These brief, conscious moments were filled with the sweet sounds of her lullaby, the familiar notes soothing and soft. The musical fragments drew contented sighs, little precursors to more sleep.

It was the pre-dawn chorus that woke her next, and she blinked her way into wakefulness, realizing that she was likely waking from sleep for what would be the last time for her. Somehow, the thought wasn't as frightening as it had been before. Her body was not rested, but she knew it would soon no longer need that either . . . or food or drink or air or . . . so many other things.

Edward appeared in the doorway, a dim shape in a dim room.

As it always did, her heart sped at the sight of him.

She watched his body stiffen.

"Take a breath, please," he said.

She did, and his shoulders softened slightly.

How she loved this man, and how she was ready not to be fearful that their time would be snatched from them courtesy of her bodily frailty. How long she had felt puny beside his immortal perfection, and now so much of that would be allayed. How long she had felt weak and a burden. No more. She would be like him.

Eventually, she reminded herself. There would be years before she mastered any kind of control. It was for a different reason that her heart beat faster again. Would she be herself as an immortal? Would she remember all that she wished to? And none of what she didn't?

If you don't hurry up and do this, you won't have to worry about anything soon enough, she reminded herself.

She swallowed before she spoke, a little startled by the hoarseness in her voice. "I'm ready."

Edward smiled weakly at her, abruptly dropping his gaze to the floor as he held on to the doorframe. He chuckled a little and shook his head, still looking down. "Just like that."

She chuckled too. "Yeah, just like that."

When he became aware that she was struggling to sit up, he walked into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed to assist her. "And here I was wondering if you wanted to have breakfast outside."

Breakfast. Right. "Um . . . I have a feeling I might regret having breakfast later on, all things considered."

There was some hesitation in Edward. She could see it in the way he was trying to appear relaxed, but she knew him so well now that such things didn't escape even her human eyes.

"You're having second thoughts." She grimaced as soon as she spoke. How instinctive it was to question him—to have a moment's distrust even now. But she knew even before he replied what his answer would be.

"No," he said quickly, "not second thoughts. Just . . . making peace with my first ones." His smile was rueful as he took her hand in his, kissing it. "I want this. No matter how selfish that makes me or how much guilt I may feel for this outcome, I want you to be mine for all time. Still though, to lose your humanity—it is a loss for me." He brushed his finger up her cheek, and she felt the blood follow the movement. His smile grew wide. "I will miss that."

"I, on the other hand, will be super glad that not everyone will be able to read my feelings like an open book." She smiled at him. She knew it was a tentative smile—the nervousness engulfing her now didn't allow for more— but she wanted to make this easier for him. She wanted to erase that wrinkle between his eyes and to be the comfort for him that he had been for her—to be his mate, to be his equal.

When he leaned forward, she lifted her head slightly to meet him partway. His kiss dizzied her afresh. With her hands in his hair, she held him close. "Now, please, Edward." She wasn't sure she had the strength or nerve to keep asking, recalling the pain that she'd felt from James' bite, knowing it would be infinitely worse when the venom was allowed to spread throughout her whole body.

He pulled back, gazing into her eyes, sadness creeping into the features of his face.

Another movement at the door caught Bella's attention. Carlisle entered silently, smiling gently at them both and depositing a long and narrow black case on the bedside table.

"Thank you," Edward said.

Bella didn't ask what was in the case. She was quite sure she didn't want to know.

"I'll be nearby if you need me," Carlisle said.

"Okay," Bella said, realizing belatedly that he probably wasn't talking to her.

Carlisle placed a hand on Edward's shoulder and squeezed it. For once she didn't begrudge them their silent conversation as Edward momentarily looked up at his father, nodding at him and murmuring something not meant for her ears. Then Carlisle was gone.

Edward was playing with the fingers on her hand, smoothing his own over her much softer and warmer ones. It was gentle and soothing, and she relaxed under the rhythmic touch. He moved up to her wrist and her arm, and the mild tingling in her fingertips faded a bit with his massage.

"Lie back a little," he said, continuing to work her muscles until she felt like she would nearly fall asleep again. He had produced a tube of some sort of cream which he applied to her neck and chest, and she allowed herself to melt into his every touch, trying to absorb each pleasant sensation, knowing what unpleasant ones were to come.

When he brought his lips to hers, it was with a whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too. Always." She murmured it so quietly that she could barely hear herself, but she knew he had.

Edward nodded, his face drawn and his eyes full of things there was no more time left to say. He dipped his head and kissed her lips again, then her cheek as he worked his way to the side of her jaw. When she turned her head away, knowing what was coming next, she felt his cool breath on her throat and heard him whisper, "Forever."

She didn't even realize his teeth were in her skin until she felt the pressure there. The cream must've been an analgesic, and she loved that he had tried it, but she knew it was only a temporary respite. She heard him make a sound halfway between a sob and a groan as he wrenched himself away from her, and she tensed, waiting for the burning to begin.

It didn't. Instead, warmth travelled down her neck and through her chest, migrating outward and down beneath her skin, flowing quickly, moving with what she knew would be increasing heat. She clenched her fists and jaw in anticipation.

The warmth continued to permeate, occasional spikes of pleasant feelings making her insides feel like they were bubbling. The sensations accumulated in little pockets, some in very sensitive pockets.

"Oh," she said, closing her eyes. It was very quickly becoming difficult to be cognizant of more than what was happening within her body, the sensations overwhelming her mind's ability to process them. She was so fully engulfed in them, she barely registered the clink of something metallic nearby and the sound of Edward's voice. He might have been asking her something, but she could not make it out and could not have responded if she had; nor could her mind make sense of the sudden pinch in her chest and the sense of fullness that briefly simmered there. Then, a new deluge of heat exploded into a rush of ecstasy, and she felt every particle of it as her body welcomed the injected venom that flowed through her veins.

- 0 -

"Remarkable." Carlisle's voice was almost a reverent whisper. Edward knew this particular tone was normally reserved for the latest medical advancements and Carlisle's awe at what human technology could accomplish. Now, though, his father marvelled at Bella's seemingly unconscious form, which only twitched occasionally with sounds of contentment or . . . sounds which Edward associated with things he rather wished were private. "She doesn't appear to be in any pain."

Edward nodded. He could barely believe it himself. He'd waited for the burning to begin so that it would distract her from the additional pain of the intracardiac injection of his venom, but there had been no screaming, no begging, no writhing, only soft moans and gasps. After calling her name repeatedly with no response, he'd injected her as quickly as he could, and if she'd felt any discomfort, there had been no sign of it.

Hours later, she still looked so peaceful. While it should have been comforting, he found himself terrified instead. What if the addiction interfered with the change? What if these were her final death throes?

"Look," Carlisle said softly. He put his hand on Edward's shoulder, redirecting his attention.

Yes, his father knew his fear. Edward followed Carlisle's thoughts and then his pointed finger to look at Bella's neck. The first changes were inside, invisible even to vampiric eyes, but the skin where Edward had bitten her was . . . different. Edward stepped forward, kneeling and forcing himself to look more clinically.

"She's changing, Edward." Carlisle was trying to keep the excitement from his voice but failing. He was thinking what this could mean if they ever decided that there was a need to change someone again. The thought of a painless transformation was enthralling. Already his father was trying to calculate how quickly one could foster venom addiction and if it could be done expeditiously in such a situation.

"Carlisle." Edward's shoulders were stiff with anger, and his tone reflected the same. He recalled the horror of watching Demetri do what he had done over the past few months. No one should ever again suffer what Bella had. The creature had poisoned her and had forced Edward to continue to do so long after. What if this didn't work? What if the exposure to the venom ultimately and negatively altered her change? What if the addiction continued and could not be fed? Would it weaken her? "How did I not even consider this possibility?"

"Consider what?" Carlisle asked.

"The addiction . . . what if it interferes with her change?"

Carlisle sucked in a breath. "I'm sorry for being so insensitive." His clinical suppositions stopped immediately, and Edward watched his father focus on Bella again. Carlisle's thinking was now full of gratitude and relief for the painless transformation he was convinced he was witnessing. "Her heart is steady though, and we're already seeing the first signs of change."

Edward brushed his hand over Bella's forehead and hair before laying his hand on her cheek. She sighed and turned her face instinctively into his touch. There was still no sign of distress. As his fingers lingered over the mark his teeth had left, he felt for himself the now much harder flesh there. Yes, that had changed. He hoped it was a sign that the rest of her would as well, but he was too versed in fate's vicissitudes to so easily believe that all would be well.

Anything, he prayed silently to whatever higher power might still be listening. I will do anything. Whatever you want from me, I will give you . . . for her. Please let her be as she should be. Please.

He continued to kneel beside her long after Carlisle left the room, his silent supplications repeating even as he watched her skin turn diamond-like in the midday sun. There was nothing to do but wait and hope, and his inability to do more weighed upon him like the horrendous fates he imagined coming.

Please . . . please . . .


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