AN: Jasper encourages Peter to join a grief support group. He meets the mysterious woman who seemed to outlive the accident that took his Charlotte, and yet death still knocks at her door.

PPOV

A fucking support group. What vampire needs to join a support group? Me apparently. It's been hell since Charlotte died. It's felt like my heart has been ripped out of my chest, torn to shreds, and burned into nothing but ashes. The pain has been excruciating, and at first, I had no will, no motivation. I'm only doing this because I know she wouldn't want me wallowing for the rest of my life. I'd be dammed if I went out the easy way.

My sweet darlin'. It's like a freak accident happened. She was out, in one of those little gas stations. Why? Hell if I remember. She just liked going to them for some reason, and you know what happened? It blew up. She was standing closer to the blast than anyone else, the venom in our bodies was like lighting a match next to gasoline. What was just the store ended up being the whole block.

I think out of the whole ordeal, one person survived. A human. I wasn't sure of their name. But it's ironic. An indestructible being could be burned into nothing, and yet a human could come out unscathed. I envy the human. Sometimes I find myself mad at them. How was it fair? Sometimes I find myself mad at Char. She had no need to go there that day. No reason, and now she's left me all alone.

I wasn't aware that the meeting had started until a throat was cleared. I zoned back into reality, my mind already kicking in to count for the people that now sat in the circle. There were only 8 of us. Myself included. I tried to pay attention to these people and their stories, and I did understand what they were going through, but then again, the magnitude in which a vampire's love ran was unimaginable by humans. No matter how hard I listened, I knew the love and loss they shared would never compare to the loss I felt.

I didn't say anything this session, but, I listened.

A week after the same routine, of three times a week and an hour and a half, there was a new face. I saw her before our instructor Tim did. She was outside of the building, peeking in, sunglasses on her face as she peered inside with obvious hesitation. I didn't pay her much attention really, but I did watch her for at least three minutes fidget before she made her way inside, pulling up a chair straight across from me.

I even offered a smile like the rest, and she just gave a single nod, a saddened smile on her face. I couldn't really see beyond the heavily tented glass behind her sunglasses, and it made me curious. She said nothing, not even offering her name. She was now the new mystery. Even to myself.

Today was the day I finally introduced myself formally, and my reason for being here. I received the looks of sympathy, and the 'I'm sorry's', which was well expected, and we went through grieving exercises to start us through our healing process. Our first step towards recovery was to acknowledge that our loved ones were gone, and that there was nothing we could do to change that. That was easier said than done.

The mystery woman never spoke a word, those sunglasses obscuring her from prying eyes like my own.

It's officially been a month since I joined this group. I knew everyone's name, save for one, what they did, what happened to them, and who they lost.

Terry: He was 45, and he lost his wife to cancer.

John: He was just 28, and his baby girl of 5 was killed in a hit-and-run last year.

Shelia: She was 26, and lost her husband to an act of carelessness by the local hospital.

Tammy: She was 65 and lost her daughter to domestic violence.

Lawrence: He just turned 37, and he lost his wife and child in a drunk driving accident.

Kimmy: 32, and her whole family was killed in a home invasion.

Terrance: 38, and both of his children drowned in the family swimming pool.

Then, there was the woman who still hasn't said a word. I was wondering if she could even speak the longer I was here. We all fit here. Every one of us felt like we could have stopped the act that took our loved ones away from us. Terry believes that if he would have pushed the doctor's harder, his wife would still be alive. John felt like he should have been watching his daughter better than going inside to check the baseball score really quick. Shelia should have chosen a different hospital, and Tammy felt like she should have paid more attention. Lawrence thought he should have picked his family up, and Kimmy should have been home. Terrance shouldn't have fallen asleep, and I should have stopped Char from leaving.

When she first spoke, everyone was surprised, their heads snapping in perfect unison to the mysterious woman whose shades were always covering her face. "My name is Isabella, and I lost my father in a gas station explosion," Now my eyes were on her. She didn't say anything else for two minutes before she took a deep breath. "I lost my mother the day before I lost my father. We weren't supposed to leave until the next day, but I begged to be as far away from the pain as possible. I'm not even supposed to be alive,"

This was the woman who outlived the dead.

It was well into the night when session ended. About an hour longer than normal. I purposely waited outside, the young woman walking right past me, clinging to her purse. "Isabella," I call, and she turns around, my reflection peering back at me as I push off the wall. "Peter," She acknowledges. "Do you mind?" I ask, motioning towards her and then the dark street ahead. She shakes her head, and turns around, and I easily kept in stride with her. She rummages in her bag, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. "Those will kill you, you know," I say to her as she offers it to me. I gladly took it, taking in a drag, the nicotine filling my chest with no effects. I pass it back to her, eyeing her curiously.

I walked with her all the way to her one bedroom apartment, nodding at her as she closed the door, a quiet goodnight leaving her mouth.

"Why don't you get to know her?" I look up at Jasper, tilting my head at him. "Why would I do that?" I question. Jasper stares at me, his red eyes twinkling under the light. "You two can bond. Her father died in the same explosion that Char did. It may do you some good," I scowl at him, flickering my eyes to the small hand that wrapped around his arm. "He's right you know," I roll my eyes. "Of course you'd agree Maria," She smiles at me, a playful glare in her eyes. "What good could this be worth?" Jasper shrugs at me. "Only you can answer that Pete,"

"That concludes our session for today. I want you guys to work on forgiveness. Forgive yourself…" I zone Tim out, my eyes flickering towards Isabella. I wasn't sure if she was looking at me, but I don't think that mattered. I waited to the side as she stayed longer than everyone else, waiting for her to come outside. Like yesterday, I walked her home, saying nothing. Before she could close her door, I stopped it with my foot, shooting her a smile to alleviate the spike in her heart rate. "I uh, just wanted to say that if you need someone to talk to…I'm a listening ear. I figured with the two people we loved the most dying the same way…we could use the company," She regards me for a moment, removing her sunglasses.

On the right side of her face was scarring from what I assume was the fire, her right eye seemingly intact, but if you looked closer , a nerve had been damaged, making her eye look red all over.

Her brown eye on the left side of her face narrowed at me, and she hummed softly. "Goodnight Peter,"

I handed Isabella her purse, holding up my hand as she was obviously about to protest my offer. I gave the hot dog contender a 10, handing over the foul smelling food. "Thank you," She responds, and we walk down the almost empty street, arms barely touching. I walk alongside her as she slowly chews, those damned glasses reflecting nothing for me to go on.

"How are you alive?" I blurt out, eyeing her closely. She swallows her bite of food, looking up at me. She was probably 5'4, short, brown, curly hair falling to her shoulders. "Luck," She replies, turning back to look ahead of her. Luck. Good luck or bad luck?

"It's not fair, is it?" She asks me moments later. "What do you mean?" She doesn't say anything else to me, walking beside me in silence.

Jasper's throat clearing pulled me from my thoughts. "So, how's it going?" I raise a brow. "How do you think?" He sits down across from me, leaning back against the chair. "I don't know. It's why I asked. What's she like?" I ponder the question for a moment, tilting my head in thought. "Weird," I respond. Jasper chuckles, sending me an amused glance. He then frowns. "Don't do that," He whispers. "Do what?" I retort, leaning back into the couch. "Feel guilty. There's nothing wrong with asking for companionship," I purse my lips, looking towards the picture that sat on the coffee table. "I feel like I'm betraying her. It's not fair," I whisper. Jasper leans forward, his blonde curls obscuring his eyes. "She would want you to live a little. Make a friend. She wouldn't want you wallowing here all day," He lays a hand on my pants, squeezing my knee.

Two months. I've been walking Isabella home for two months, three nights out of the week. It's been almost three since I've joined this group, and it's made me feel somewhat better. I can smile sometimes, and then sometimes I can embrace the sadness and not feel angry. I've learned to forgive myself for letting her go, and I've learned to forgive her for leaving. Now, I was struggling with letting her go. I didn't want to let her go. I didn't get that sense of closure I felt most people got with having funerals. I despised even lighting a fire in the backyard and drinking a beer or two in memory. I refuse to say some misguided prayer, and hope that's she's in a place that I don't think exists.

"Peter?" I snap my eyes to my own reflection, raising a brow. "I'm sorry. What?" I question. Isabella waves her hand towards her apartment door. "I asked if you would like to come in," She repeats. I stare at her hand, and then the door, nodding once. She opens the door, and allows me in. I walk inside, smelling the scent of fresh paint and wood. She steps in behind me, closing the door and clicking on the lights. It was a small place of course, equipped with a kitchen adjoined to the small living room where nothing but a bookcase and a few pieces of furniture sat, as well as the bedroom and bathroom down the hall.

"I know it's kind of small," She whispers to me, locking the door. I shrug. "It's fine," I reply. "Tea?" She asks as she walks around me. I shake my head. "No thanks," I decline, watching her turn on the lights in the kitchen. "Doing some redecorating?" I ask. I hear the sunglasses clink on the counter, and she nods. "Yeah, needed a fresh coat," She murmurs, putting the kettle on. I sit on the brown couch, staring at her bookshelf. I saw titles of anything and everything. "Charlotte loved reading," I murmur quietly.

"Why don't you get a new copy darlin'? This one is tearing,"

Charlotte glances up at me, and I run my fingers through her short blonde hair. "The smell of the pages would be gone. There's always a difference between a new book and an old one,"

The feeling of warmth is next to me, and I look down at Isabella who has her hands wrapped around a mug. "My father got me into reading. He was a cop, and there was nothing I loved more than to read those superhero books. I always thought he was one, even until the very end," I lean back into the cushions, and she stares ahead.

"Isabella," I start, and she shakes her head at me. "Bella," She corrects. "Bella…" I repeat, and she looks over at me. "Thank you,"

Bella never questioned why I didn't come over during the day, why my eyes were weird, and we never saw each other outside of group meetings. Fate would have impeccable timing as while our hunting for my next meal, I came across her. I would think that at night she'd go straight home. I guess she's not what I assumed.

The rain didn't bother me none, and I stalked down the street, stopping for a moment as I heard a familiar voice. She was pleading, crying, begging. I rounded my way around a corner, seeing her being cornered, her sunglasses reflecting off the light from the bright moon. Her purse was snatched, and I saw red as one man started rifling through her bag, while the other two grabbed her arms. "Mmm. 50 bucks? That's all you got? Hmmm…well maybe not all…" I was seconds away from grabbing the man and bashing his head in, but I was surprised as Bella kicked the man in the chest, sending him flying right into me.

I of course wasn't impacted. I grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt, throwing him against the brick wall, his body dropping to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The other two men froze, glancing at me. They let Bella go, raising their hands, their widened eyes quite comical to me. They both tried to run past me, but a quick, not too gentle shove, sent them spiraling to the ground rather harder than necessary. They were easily knocked out unconscious.

I peered over at Bella, coming closer as she bent down to grab her purse. When she stood, I could see the slowly bleeding wound that sat on her cheek. I reached down, gripping her chin, tilting her face up a bit. "I'm okay," She responds, albeit shakily, gently pulling her chin from my hand. I grunt in response. "Let me walk you home," I offer. I hold out my arm, and she grabs onto it with her hand.

I offer Char my arm, smiling down at her as she glided her arm through mine, a bright and blinding smile on her face. "What a gentleman,"

I tip my hat, winking at her. "Anything you want me to be sugar,"

I blink a few times, unable to help myself as I drifted my eyes across the rest of her, noticing the popped buttons on her white blouse, a necklace hanging around her neck, the pendant just barely grazing the top of her breasts. "Did they touch you?" It took everything in me not to growl or bend down and break each of their pathetic necks. I would be back for them. Bella shakes her head, walking beside me quietly.

"Thank you Peter. Not many men of our generation are gentlemen," She softly replies.

We walk in silence to her apartment, and she lets me inside. I wait for her to come back, and she does after a few minutes, in dry clothes and semi-dry hair. Her necklace was hidden from view, and I grabbed the first-aid from her hand, sitting her down on the couch. I crouched down in front of her, reaching up to take her glasses off. She grabs my wrist, and I stare at her silently. "You don't need to wear these around me," I whisper. Her fingers tighten for a moment before she lets go, allowing me to take her glasses off. I grit my teeth at the black bruise around her eye. I tended to her eye and cheek, knowing she was watching me. A tear glides down her cheek and I stop what I'm doing, fearful that I may have done more harm than good.

"Thanks for letting me not feel like a freak," She whispers. I give her a small smile.

Maria's constant smile made me almost want to hide. "Oh! I'm so happy for you Peter! Jasper was right! I want to meet her!" I immediately shake my head. "I don't know if he's ready for that darlin'," I roll my eyes. "But it's good to see you cracking a smile. I'm glad she can be there for you in a way we can't. So, based on the story you told me, you wouldn't have any idea to what happened to these men, now would you?" Jasper shows me the newspaper of three slain men. I shrug. "Nope,"

We had three more weeks to go before the support group was over. This week, I spent 5 days out of it with Bella. I visited her father's grave with her, and she understood my reluctance to make one for Char. She prayed next to me, holding my hand, and I stared at the tombstone with confusion.

So this was what it was like.

I walked Bella home each time I was able to, and she even gave me her phone number. On the days I didn't see her, we were texting about our days when not together, and on the nights we didn't see each other, I always texted her to make sure she was alright. Jasper and Maria thought it was endearing. I ignored them mostly. I came to terms that I was not betraying Char. I loved her, and I still do. It was just weird having another woman I spent most of my nights with, even if we were nothing but friends. Were we friends?

I think so.

In the three days of the second to last week, Bella was nonexistent. Her chair was empty. It bothered me. When the session ended, I sent her a text. She never missed one. She didn't tell me she wasn't going to be here. So, it was….weird. I waited, expecting for an immediate response, but nothing.

I was two shakes away from just walking to her apartment, but I thought better of it. She probably had a reason to not show up.

For that whole week, I hadn't heard anything from Bella. Not a text, not a call. She was a no-show. I left a few voicemails hoping I didn't sound like a stalker, or lonely friend, and not one of them were returned.

On the last week, my attention was on the empty chair that stared at me. On our last day, I couldn't stand not knowing. Where was she? The trek to her apartment was easy of course, filled with the thoughts of what I was going to say to her once I got to her door. I walked up to her door, focusing my attention on the sounds inside the apartment.

I could easily hear her moving around, so I knew that she was alive. But, the question was, why was she ignoring me? I knocked on her door, hearing her faltering footsteps. She didn't come any closer towards the door. "Bella? It's Peter," I call, listening to her some more. "I know you're in there," I call, knocking on her door again. This time I could hear her hurrying towards the door, and she opened it up just a crack, staring at me. We don't say anything, and I tilt my head a bit at her. "I've been worried," I speak first, trying to hide the confusion on my face. "You should go home Peter," She sighs, getting ready to close the door. I stop it with my foot. "I will once I know you're okay. You haven't been answering my calls, or texts, you haven't shown up to group, I….I wanted to come check on you,"

She stares at me for a long moment, an emotion I couldn't describe staring back at me. "I apologize. I thought if I stopped responding and stopped showing up, you'd forget about me,"

Was she saying goodbye? Was our friendship over?

"Did I do something?" I wonder, not sure if I could cope with this. That's crazy isn't it? Me, a vampire can't cope losing a human friend. I think there's something wrong with me.

"Oh Peter. No. Go home Peter. Don't come back," She closed the door in my face, and I waited there for a moment, and I knew she was standing on the other side, waiting for me to leave. I did, and no matter how far I went, I could hear her cries.

"I don't understand, she just told you to go away?" Maria asks, sitting down next to me. I nod, still confused by the ordeal. I didn't understand her. I couldn't force her to be my friend of course, but even I couldn't deny that I felt somewhat upset at losing my friend.

It's been a few days since Bella had told me to go away, and every night I fight just going to her apartment and forcing her to talk to me. I felt empty I guess. I wasn't sure if she was even a friend anymore. I think she was more than that. Maybe not romantically, but I felt like we shared something special.

Jasper and Maria wanted to meet her, hoping that they could do something, but I declined their help. If Bella didn't want to see me, I'd respect her wishes no matter how lonely I may have felt. It was probably late in the night when she called me, telling me that she wished to see me in person.

I of course jumped up at the opportunity. Maybe I could figure out what's going on. I decided to show up with that nasty food she apparently liked, hot dogs, and she was already at the door when I knocked, letting me in. She took the hot dog from me, smiling in thanks. I think I was just so happy to see her that I overlooked what was staring me in the face. After she ate, she grabbed my hand, and sat me down on the couch, slowly sitting down next to me.

I couldn't help running a finger along the healing scar on her cheek. She grabs my hand, holding it between hers. "I've missed you," She smiles, patting my hand, and no matter how much I wished to ignore it, this feeling of dread kicked in. "I'm here now," I say simply, finally taking notice of her already pale skin, almost sickly in complexion, hallow cheeks, and chapped lips. "I know, which is why I wanted to talk to you in person," I wipe away the tear that trails down her cheek, narrowing my eyes at her. "Why are you saying goodbye again?" I ask, shaking my head at her. Why?

"We can't be friends anymore Peter," She whispers, looking away from me. Her bottom lip wobbles, and I squeeze her hands, willing her to look back at me. Everything in her face told me why, and I didn't want to believe it. I place a hand over her chest, her stuttering heart beating under my palm. I could hear it. "It's easier this way. I…it'll make dying that much harder. I can't fight this, and…you've given me something to fight for. Knowing that no matter how hard I try, I will fail. It's why I've been avoiding you, why I stopped doing anything. My time is coming to an end," She holds onto my hand, a sob leaving her small, frail body.

"And I don't want it to end, because Peter, since I lost it all, you've given me a reason to live," Venom tears pool in my eyes, and I swallow heavily. "You shouldn't be alone," I try. She shakes her head, looking up at me. "I want to be," I'm frozen momentarily as she presses her lips against mine, saying goodbye to me in the most honorable and devastating of ways.

"Please Peter…I want you to remember me how you first saw me. I wasn't happy, but I was alive," Against better judgement, I pull her close to me, squeezing her harder than I should, placing a kiss on top of her brittle hair. "Let me stay," I whisper. Bella just squeezes onto me, kissing my cheek. "Go home Peter,"

Despite Bella's attempts to completely shut me out, I went to visit her every day, this close to offering her the gift of immortality. She was doing worse, and no matter how much she didn't want me there, she needed me there.

I was waiting for the day I'd walk up to her door and get no response or find her on the floor. I was waiting for the day that her heart wouldn't beat anymore.

The day came sooner than later.

Her apartment door was ajar, and I went inside, zipping forward to her unconscious body. Her heart was faint, and I had a few options. Call 911, take her to the hospital, or change her. As much as I wanted option number three, immortality was not for every one. Option 1 would take too long, so I gently lifted her, cradling her to my chest. She was still, too still . The night was my friend, the streets my lover as I ran through dense neighborhoods, heading towards the nearest hospital. It was blur. Handing her over to medical personnel, giving any information I could, signing any papers they wanted.

I waited desperately for any word, and I finally got something when a doctor approached me. He told me about Bella's condition. When the explosion happened, she was exposed to some kind of radiation, and it had accelerated into attacking all of her major organs. Her heart being last. His eyes told me all, more than his words ever could. "How long does she have?" I whisper. He frowns, looking at his watch. "A few hours if she's lucky,"

There goes luck again.

"Can I see her?" I'm lead to her room, and I sit beside the bed, grabbing onto her hand as I'm left alone with her. I smooth a hand down her hair, frowning. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I quickly pull it out to see that it's Jasper. Sunrise was coming, and I needed to get home. I kissed Bella's hand, closing my eyes. Was it right for me to be selfish? Was it right for me to choose? Was I weak for what I was about to do?

Do I desperately crave the company of this human so much so that I would give her eternal life?

"Peter?" Her raspy voice brings me to attention, and I sadly smile at her. "Hi Darlin'," I whisper. "Am I dead? You look like an Angel," She breathes out, and I knew my time was up. I shake my head. "No. I can make the pain go away. If you'll let me. You'll never hurt again," I whisper. She stares at me, wheezing air just barely making it to her lungs. "If you could live forever, if eternity allowed you to be free, would you take it?" She doesn't respond to me, but rather smiles softly. "Forever is only a dream Peter," I shake my head, standing up, squeezing her hand. "It's a reality. A reality that I think you belong in. Say forever and I'll make it all go away," I kiss her hand, watching her eyes flutter close, and her heart rate decreases in speed.

It's then that the EKG makes that horrible, disgusting, sound of her heart flatlining. But there was enough of my hearting to detect the faintest of beats. Before the last beat her heart ever made, I sunk my teeth into her wrist like butter, injecting my venom into her flesh. I then pulled down the hospital gown, exposing the top of her breast to me, biting right above her heart, and then I moved my lips to her neck, right under her ear. "I hope you don't hate me," I whisper, before sealing her forever, her chance at eternity with my tongue.

She was pronounced dead at 12:46 am, her body being transferred to the morgue. It was then that I intercepted, taking her lifeless body home. Jasper and Maria stood at my side as we waited the three long excruciating days for her to wake. I thought for a moment that I was too late, but Jasper told me to have faith. Her body had definitely changed. She was more beautiful than before, her hair vibrant, skin healthy. The burn on her face had minimalized into that of a scar that rested over her eye, and it gave her a sense of beauty and danger.

It was exactly 96 hours later that she woke, her body moving faster than her mind. She stares at the three of us, her body crouched, ready to spring. As I made contact with her vibrant red eyes, her hard features softened, and before I could react, I had two tight arms wound around my neck, legs around my waist. "I told you I'd make the pain go away,"

Fin. Please excuse any mistakes.