A/N- In case you have forgotten, Bella was hit by a car. The beginning of this chapter will likely leave you confused. That's understandable. Bella will be confused, too. Things will be explained more clearly later.


Chapter 33- Living Dead Girl

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Darkness envelops me like a blanket. Thick. Infinite. Ominous. Light does not exist in this place. Absolute silence further suffocates my senses. There's nothing to hear. Nothing to see. Nothing to touch. All that's here is me.

Where am I?

My brain struggles to explain what's going on. I come up with nothing.

I decide to do some exploring and find out the answer myself. Within moments, I discover moving around is out of the question. It's like there's no legs for me to stand on. I can't flex my arms or wiggle my toes either. It's as if my limbs have been detached and moved elsewhere. I almost feel... weightless.

I mull over what little I have gathered so far.

Blackness.

Emptiness.

Weightlessness.

My vague thoughts slowly solidify into certainty. Dread seizes its opportunity, digging its ugly claws deep into my soul. There is only one thing this can mean.

I am dead.

But...why?

I think, and think, and think.

I draw nothing but a blank.

Having nothing else to do, I study my surroundings and try to come to terms with my fate. It is impossible. This is what happens after you die? You get banished to a black void? That's it? I thought there would be more to the afterlife than this. Like, relatives who passed on years before coming to greet me with opened arms, and feelings of peace and serenity. There's nothing like that here. It's cold. And lonely. All the company I have are my thoughts. I don't know what good they will do. They only remind me of what I have lost.

Friends.

Family.

And...

A tidal wave of desolation crashes into me, sinking my spirits further..

I lost him, too. I lost Edward.

Desperate to see him again, I scramble to concentrate. The final memory I have of him surfaces within my mind. He sat on the piano bench while I placed a kiss on his temple. Then I said I would see him later. It pains me to know I never will. And I didn't even think to say that I loved him one last time before leaving the room.

What's left of me curls in on itself. My grief spirals out of control. I regret not giving him a proper goodbye. Now I have all of eternity to rue over my worst mistake.

The only consolation I have is that my memories of Edward are intact. I seek refuge with him there, temporarily forgetting about my harsh, new reality. I picture his stolen, late-night kisses in my teenage bedroom. I remember the way his eyes would narrow a little when he was hunting for the perfect note to add to a song he was composing. I marvel at how he could somehow make a cotton t-shirt and jeans look as classy on himself as he would a black suit and tie. I recall hectic days when it felt as though nothing would get finished in time, and how a pair of gentle lips would soothe away my stress.

Memories of other loved ones float up to the surface, one after the other. My mom's carefree laughter that made everyone in a room smile. The sparkle in my Dad's eyes when he made a dry joke. Alice's pouty, puckered lips when she would beg for me to do something girlie with her. How Carlisle would go into doctor mode at the drop of a hat, his manner always the epitome of kindness. Rosalie's habit of wearing beautiful clothes while working on the messiest of car maintenance jobs, and somehow never spilling a drop of oil or grease on herself. Esme's unfailing encouragement whenever someone she cared for was feeling down. Jasper and Emmett's hours long chess matches, where cheating was accepted and even congratulated based on its inventiveness.

Each memory I possess is precious. And I wish I had been given the opportunity to have made more.

My thoughts are draped in sorrow when something changes unexpectedly within my ink-black world.

I hear a sound.

Whatever had been on my mind dissolves in an instant. I focus exclusively on what I just heard. The sound is muffled and distant. But it's something after hearing nothing at all for no telling how long. I decide to call out to it.

Hello?

I wait and wait. Nothing responds. So I try again.

Hello!

When the sound returns, it's closer than before. It's pleasant, like the ringing of a bell. I think it's a voice. I hear another one, too - grumbling and low.

Over time, more voices drift to me. I hear a whimpering voice. There's a baritone voice, and a quiet, subdued voice. Sometimes a sweet, sad voice murmurs nearby. Each voice is different, yet one quality is shared by them all - their words are mostly garbled and indecipherable. Occasionally, I recognize a word within the babble of noise.

"Hi."

...

"You."

...

"Better."

...

But, in the end, their mutterings are always a let down. What I hear never tells me anything of value. I don't know who they are, what they are doing, or why they are here. I'm not even sure if they are aware of my existence. Because at every opportunity, I have screamed out to these faceless people. I have begged and bargained for their help. But no one comes. No one responds. Ever. Either they can't hear me, they don't want to help, or I am only imagining there are people nearby. I'm not sure which is worse.

"Bella."

Something inside of me stirs the moment I hear my name said out loud. The voice that spoke is deep, its tone smoother than warmed honey. It pierces through the darkness in a way the others cannot. Some of the next spoken words are much too jumbled together to understand, but I keep listening regardless.

"Up," the same voice intones as before. "Need."

The words are disorganized, and I have no clue of what's being said. But I don't care. Because this voice is unmistakable. I would know it anywhere.

It's him.

A new feeling rises within me. I haven't felt it in a very long time. I think it's called Hope.

Edward! It's me! I hear you! I scream louder than ever.

"Back," he says immediately afterwards. "Love." "Please." The last word he drags out, somber and haunting.

Edward, I'm here! Help me!

I quieten and wait for him to emerge from behind the shadows at any moment. Instead, he repeats my name a time or two more... He mutters a few garbled words...

Then, I am left with nothing but silence.

Once again I am struck down by devastation. Edward is gone. And, even worse than that, I don't think he heard me at all. I don't understand. He sounded so close. How could he not hear me?

After I wallow in depression for a while, I try to concentrate on the positive instead. A dead person wouldn't be able to hear her husband calling her name, right? So that must mean I am still alive. And, evidently, Edward and other people are out there searching for me. All I need to do is hold on until they can track me down. But this only leads me back to my original question.

Where am I?

Time drags on with no definite answers. The voices come and go like a breeze, never staying for long. I yell for help. No one acknowledges me. Edward whispers soft words - a few of which I can decipher - though most remain a mystery. I scream "I'm here!" multiple times and wait for him to come. He never does.

The cycle repeats itself. Over, and over, and over.

I'm beginning to think this is some type of twisted game. Someone has kidnapped and thrown me into a dark room to watch me mentally deteriorate. Then they play the sound of Edward's voice every so often just to give me false hope of rescue. And it works. Every. Single. Time.

Just when I think I can't take my solitary confinement for one minute longer, I hear him again.

"Bella," Edward murmurs. "Sorry." "Love you."

Out of all those times I heard him speak, this is the very first thing he said that I can understand without a doubt. He's saying he loves me. I grasp at this small victory and take strength from it.

Yes! I love you, too! I yell.

I stop screaming and listen hard, hoping things will be different now. Since I heard his voice better this time, there is a good chance he can hear me better, too. I wait anxiously to see what he says next.

Nothing. He says not a word more.

Before I lose what hope I have regained, another voice fills the silence. What it says is impossible to comprehend, but I have to admit it's nice. The voice is low-key and comforting. At least I know I am not alone.

As I listen to the voice's soothing, hushed tone, I take note of a sudden and dramatic change. When before I felt detached and weightless, there's now a tingling sensation where my right ankle should be. I feel it again on the left one. A strange, warm sensation flows upwards, similar to how it feels when an arm or leg falls asleep.

The heaviness in my heart lifts. I don't know what any of this means, but once thing is for certain.

I have LEGS again!

Quickly, I come up with a new theory on what happened to me. Whoever threw me into this pitch-dark dungeon must have drugged me in order to keep me powerless and confused. Hopefully, after the drug leaves my system, I'll be able to move around normally again. And once that takes place, I promise I will get out of here and find Edward myself - if he doesn't find me first, that is.

As I draw to this conclusion, more pinches occur at both wrists. Seconds later, I receive another one to the side of my neck. Meanwhile, the warm tingling of my legs changes to heat. It's negligible at first. I don't pay it much mind. My attitude alters a great deal when the heat begins building in strength, rising and rising until it feels as though my legs have been stuffed inside of an industrial oven turned up to its highest setting.

I never dreamed things could get worse here. But I was wrong. So, so wrong. Because my body has now caught on fire.

Everything from my fingertips to elbows joins the burn. It winds its way up my arms and legs, transforming my limbs into nothing but kindling. The sting at my neck flares up until my entire being is engulfed. I command myself to do something, anything, to save myself. But I can't. My body is useless. It won't move a muscle.

I am a sitting duck. There is no way for me to extinguish the flames.

The fire does as it wishes, spreading to every inch of my body. It ignites my skin, scalds my eyeballs, and boils my brain. No part is spared. Screams of torment scrape my throat until it's raw.

While I suffer, the faceless voices return to make background noise, their words just as muddled and disjointed as before. Why won't they come any closer? Can't they hear my screams?

Eventually, I force myself to stop pleading for help. No one will come, I realize. And the screaming isn't doing anything beneficial. No matter how loud I yell, I burn just as savagely as before. So I grit my teeth, turn the pain inwards, and suffer in silence. Whoever set the fire probably enjoys listening to my agonized cries. I refuse to give them anymore satisfaction.

The pain goes on and on. For how long, I don't know. But something odd begins happening to my environment with no explanation.

I begin to see a light.

It's dull and far away at first, like a tiny pin prick against the black background. Gradually, it brightens up and enlarges until it shines like the Sun. I become blinded by its light, unable to see a thing. Being trapped in the dark has affected my vision apparently. I smash my eyelids closed to save myself from further pain. There is no way I can give much thought to what this new development may mean while my brain is on the verge of exploding.

More time passes. The burning moves away from my extremities to direct its aim solely against my chest. Somehow, this pain is worse than when my entire body was on fire. The flames pierce and lick at my lungs and other internal organs, feeling like a thousand hot knives are being driven into this one area. A ball of white-hot heat discovers the last, untouched organ hiding behind my ribcage. Molten lava besieges it until it's overtaken completely, so much so that I assume my heart will give out at any moment. Then, surely, I will die. That has become my best case scenario.

Out of nowhere, the pain doubles and stabs me senseless. The heat wraps its final death grip around my heart, squeezing and twisting until its beats become sporadic and weak.

Thump.

...

Thump.

...

...

Thump.

No longer able to hold back, I gasp out loud from the torment.

This is it. My suffering will end soon and I will be set free. I am finally going to die. And I welcome it.

Thump.

...

...

Thump.

...

...

...

Seconds or an eternity later, the torturous burning inexplicably disappears. The fire is gone. The pain has vanished without a trace. I don't even feel my heart struggling to beat anymore.

And it is quiet. Very quiet.

I must be dead now for sure.

Then, why do I feel so alive?

A wonderful, sweet fragrance fills my nostrils. There's also an odd tickling in the back of my throat, as though it's sore and needs something warm and wet to soothe it.

Dead people can't have sore throats...right?

My eyes fly open wide. Immediately, I take note that my back lies flat on a bed. A high ceiling stretches over my head, too. It's wooden with long beams made from split logs running across it, kind of like what I would imagine Abe Lincoln's childhood home must have once looked.

I stare at it dumbly for a second. Then my spirits soar sky-high.

I can SEE again!

Simultaneously, something else catches my eye. An unearthly pale face looks down on me from above. Short, straw-blonde hair is on his head. Friendly, golden eyes twinkle into mine.

A familiar name pops into my head.

"Carlisle?" I breathe out in wonder.

His lips lift into a gentle smile. "That's right... And how are you feeling?"

I squint my eyes at him, puzzled. Where did he come from? Where was he back when I was burning to ash? And why is he using his doctor's voice on me? His question sounds like something he would ask after stitching up a wound of mine. I don't understand.

"I...I-I'm not sure. I was hurting a minute ago. A lot. It felt like I was on fire," I explain hesitantly.

Carlisle nods his head in a slow up-and-down pattern. "It is very painful. But, don't worry - it's all over now. There will be no more pain."

I flick my attention away from his face for a moment and study the ceiling again. The wood is interesting - but I guess just about anything might be considered interesting after seeing nothing at all for god only knows how long. Each polished plank above me is unique. One is a smooth brown, free from imperfections. Another has a small knot in the middle that gives it character. A third has gorgeous swirls of mahogany and umber. The harder I stare, the more details I notice. Fine wood grains. A tiny, hairline crack. A...fingerprint?

Huh. That's weird.

It's almost like I'm peering at the wood through a microscope.

I blink my eyes a few times to clear my muddled head. I guess I'm just disoriented and imagining things that aren't really there.

My attention darts back to Carlisle. "Where am I?"

A distinct pause that comes between us. His eyes fall down to the floor as he speaks "Can you tell me anything about what happened before the burning pain you were talking about?"

I observe him a moment, aware that he purposefully avoided my question. But his own question has me too preoccupied to care. My memory is a little foggy for some reason. It's difficult to think back that far. After much concentration, I manage to recall enough to form an answer. "I visited one of my neighbors," I reply.

Our eyes reconnect. "That's all you remember?"

"No... I think I was going back home and..." I cut myself off mid-sentence and recoil from thinking about that terrible dark place. A hint of anxiety taints my voice as I finish my thought out loud. "And then there was just blackness."

The anxiety turns into a tidal wave as I recall more. When I was in that awful place, I heard a lot of voices. Only one did I recognize. Edward's. He had been there with me, I realize. In the black prison I was trapped in. Somehow, I escaped that place and ended up safe and sound here with Carlisle. Does that mean Edward is still trapped there?

My fingernails dig into my palms. "Where's Edward?" I rush out.

Carlisle's voice softens further. "It's all right, Bella. He's nearby and will see you soon. Please, go on with what you were telling me."

I loosen my fists and shut my eyes for a moment, letting the information sink in. Edward is OK, I chant like a mantra. This relaxes me enough to go back to describing what I went through.

"I think I was trapped," I continue.

"Trapped where?"

"In a room. But it was dark. Very dark... No one would turn on the lights," I frown.

"Anything else that you can recall?"

I bite down hard on my lip. "A little. Sometimes I heard voices. But, most of the time, it was quiet. I...I thought I was dead at first."

His eyebrows lift in surprise. "You heard voices?"

"Yeah. A word here and there."

"What did they say?"

I shrug a shoulder. "Different things. I don't really remember now. I know that I heard Edward's voice sometimes. I'd answer him, but I don't think he ever heard me." Pain stings my heart as I relive that experience. "Hearing him was the only thing that gave me hope that I wasn't dead after all... But, after the burning started, I kinda wished that I was."

I force myself to stop dwelling on my lowest point. My thoughts drift back to Carlisle's original question as a way to distract myself. What happened before the burning began? That seems to be the most important thing for me to remember. But the only image my brain can summon is the one where I am leaving my neighbor Effie's house to return home. And then... nothing after that.

So, what happened between point A and point B?

I press onwards to solve the mystery of where my missing time went. My spine soon tingles with a new discovery. When I try to remember things, it's like I'm squinting at my life through a cloudy mist.

The layout of my house.

What foods I prefer.

The name of the elementary school I once attended.

Which side of the bed I sleep on.

Stuff I could recall easily once upon a time now requires a lot of effort to remember.

What happened? It makes no sense. It's like all of my memories have either been stolen outright or manipulated to such an extent that I can barely recognize them as being my own.

I lock gazes with the man standing over me, not allowing him to look away again. "What happened to me, Carlisle?"

It takes a few beats for him to respond. "You were in an accident. A car hit you when you crossed the street. Do you remember that?"

My brows glue themselves together as I search for the memory. I come up empty handed. How could I forget getting hit by a car?

"No. I don't-... I don't remember," I gulp nervously, the soreness in my throat spiking. "Are we at the hospital?"

He releases a soft sigh. "No, not anymore." His hand comes to rest on top of mine. "We brought you to Alaska, Bella. Do you remember the Denali clan? We're staying with them."

I resist the temptation of rolling my eyes. "Of course I remember them. But why would you take me there? I don't understa-"

My words choke my throat, leaving me unable to complete what I wanted to say. Carlisle just casually set his hand on top of mine like an old friend, evidently with the intention of giving me comfort. It does the opposite. My memories may be faulty, but I do remember one thing just fine. Carlisle's skin should feel like ice. In the past, it would sometimes be so cold that my teeth would chatter from touching it.

Now the temperature of his hand isn't cold at all. It's almost...warm.

Other things about him gradually become more obvious now that I am paying closer attention. His face is sharper than I remember. And when I concentrate, I realize that I could easily count each individual hair on his head from right here where I lay if I wanted to.

Either I've been hit on the head with the crazy stick, or something big happened while I was gone.

My entire body - from my head to the tips of my toes - goes stiff as a board. "Bring Edward to me. Now," I demand.

Carlisle leans in, concern flashing within his yellow irises. "What's wrong, Bella?"

I swallow roughly. "I just-... I need to know that this isn't just some trick of my mind, OK. I need to see him. Please."

His mouth twists into a frown. "I promise you that this is no trick. Not even a dream. But, umm... It may seem that way to you at first... Let me ask you a question. Have you noticed anything strange since the burning ended?"

My face nods up and down, eyes pinned exclusively to his face.

"Good. That's very good," Carlisle emphasizes calmly. "Tell me about it."

I examine his features as I speak. "You...look different now. More defined than usual. And...your hand. It doesn't feel cold anymore. It feels the same as mine." I end my confession just above a whisper.

Carlisle looks back with sympathetic eyes, his hand giving mine a light squeeze. "Yes. You're right. Things have changed. Your injuries from the accident were extensive, Bella. Broken bones and a severe head injury. You were in a coma for longer than a month. The doctors did everything they could do for you, but nothing improved your condition. We hoped that you would heal on your own, but that did not happen I'm sad to say. As time passed, your long-term chances for survival decreased. And Edward asked..." His jaw snaps shut, cutting himself off from what he had been trying to say. "Well, none of us wanted to risk losing you, Bella. So we brought you to Alaska to save you... Understand so far?"

Everything he reveals tumbles down like an avalanche, the information crushing me with its weight. I replay what he said within my head.

You were in an accident.

A car hit you when you crossed the street.

A head injury.

Coma for longer than a month.

We brought you to Alaska to save you.

The more I think about it, the clearer it becomes what has happened. The feeling I had of being burnt alive. My greatly improved vision ever since my eyes reopened. How my hand is the same temperature as Carlisle's now. It all makes sense. But I am also frightened by what it means.

In a last ditch effort to explain away what I already know for certain, I wait for my heart to palpitate and for my lungs to heave from panic.

But my heart doesn't beat. Not once. My chest no longer rises and falls on its own. I don't think I have taken a breath since before I began talking to Carlisle.

It's time to face facts.

I am no longer human. Carlisle turned me into a vampire.

Springing up into a sitting position on the bed, my sights zone in on where Carlisle's hand rests on top of mine. I'm struck dumb by what I see. Our skin looks the same! White as the sheet that lies on top of me, and hard as stone.

Slipping my hand out from underneath his, I study mine closely and marvel at the changes. There's a iridescent quality to my skin that fascinates me, making it appear as though I'm faintly glowing. I am flabbergasted further when I notice the scars I have received over the course of my life - from nasty kitchen burns to simple playground cuts - are all gone. My skin looks flawless...

Swish!

The sound probably wouldn't be perceptible if I were human, but my new ears detect it as clearly as if a diesel truck cranked up a foot away from me. My face whips up faster than a launching rocket. My eyes widen to find almost a dozen milk-white faces staring at me from across the room. The sense of awe I had a moment before switches on a dime. Within a fraction of a second, my survival instinct kicks in. These are no ordinary beings, I determine. They are vampires. That sweet fragrance in the air must be their scent. There's so many of them. What if they're here to take me down?

Resisting the urge to run and expose myself to whatever they may have planned, I monitor their movements and examine each individual before deciding what to do. There's a well-dressed man with a cocked eyebrow and an air of mystique. Next to him is a woman with almond-shaped eyes and long, flowing hair the color of dark walnut. Their names emerge from within the foggy depths of my mind. Eleazar and Carmen.

Not too far away, more figures are huddled together in front of a window. Their hair comes in three different shades of blonde - silver, gold, and strawberry. It's the Denali sisters. Their stances are relaxed, varying degrees of curiosity etched plainly on their faces.

The remaining speck of wariness inside of me vanishes completely the instant I see the next face in line. It's white as a snowflake and lovely as a lily. Esme. Next comes a tiny woman with short, jet-black hair and a huge grin aimed at me. Alice! And standing beside her is a red-lipped beauty with an hourglass figure and watchful topaz eyes. Rosalie.

The last group of spectators stand off by themselves in the corner of the room. They elicit a moment of pause within me. All three are men of great height, their frames much taller and broader than mine. The first man has a dimpled smile and muscles lining his arms like boulders. They're huge. Then I rummage up his name. Emmett. During my human life, I remember him playing video games and starting prank wars. I decide he isn't a threat to me, so I move on.

My eyes halt and lock on the man in the middle, causing me to completely ignore the smirking face of Jasper who stands beside him. The man's hair looks like it hasn't seen a brush in days, clumps sticking up however they please. But it's not bad. I like it that way. Each strand is interesting and beautiful. Copper, cinnamon, and dozens more shades that have no proper name all contribute to his hair's uniqueness. However, the man's face is his most striking quality. He's so attractive, it doesn't matter that his expression looks lifeless. Prominent brow. Square jawbone. Full lips...

Realization slaps my face. That's no stranger.

It's Edward.

But his skin is different from what I remember. His healthy beige complexion has paled to nearly the color of a grain of sugar. Almost like he...

I suck in a lung-full of air that I no longer need and stare at him with a frozen, dumbstruck gaze. It can't be... But it's true.

Edward is a vampire now, too.

As I stare open-mouthed, Edward steps forward and leaves the crowd of fellow pale faces behind. His focus is set on me - just as mine is on him. His movements are like those of a wild animal slipping quietly through a dark forest, graceful but cautious of possible danger nearby. Once he reaches where I sit, his hands slide inside of his pockets and he doesn't utter a word. Maybe he waits for me to speak first. I can't, though. Because I just noticed something I should have picked up on much sooner.

Those green eyes I loved so much are gone.

I remember being lost within them countless times during my human life. Now those eyes of his are the brightest of red, the color of which a demon from the underworld might wear.

Unable to look away, I find myself whispering in a dream-like daze. "Edward? Your eyes."

"It's temporary, Bella," Carlisle pipes in. He speaks more, but I can't stop staring at Edward to give Carlisle much notice. "As long as you both don't, err...stray in your diet, the red eye color will gradually fade to gold. Don't worry about that. Animal blood dilutes the red quickly."

I blink a few times to wake myself up from the shock. If I were still human, no doubt I would be terrified of Edward's new look. Skin as pale as a corpse. Eyes as red as Hell itself. Yet, I am most definitely not afraid of him. One thought dominates above all others.

Edward is perfect.

His handsome face has been amplified in its attractiveness. He's probably the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. The few flaws he once had have been wiped clean. His teeth are a little whiter. The tiny mole behind his ear is missing. The bronze locks on his head shine more vibrantly than ever. His facial features are a bit more chiseled.

Then, I glance down at his body and go slack-jawed. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up above his elbows, revealing masculine forearms built with bulging veins - none of which transport blood any longer. And his chest muscles protrude through his shirt even more than they did as a human.

Like I said, Edward is beautiful. Still, I can't help but search frantically for the old green eyes I once knew so well. They would dance joyfully whenever we would reunite after a long day of being apart. They would soften lovingly whenever my mood was poor and I needed cheering up. And they could light up with a fiery passion that I still believe goes unmatched in the entire world. That's the Edward I knew and married. So where is he? Is he hiding somewhere behind these strange, ruby colored eyes that look as though they have never before conveyed happiness? Or, is the Edward I fell in love with lost forever?

I peer deeper into these new crimson pools of his, looking past the unfamiliar redness, and uncover something unexpected. I see a trace of sadness within them. This emotion can be seen elsewhere too - by his slightly slumped shoulders and frowning lips. I think back to when I last saw him as a human. He smiled a lot that day.

It doesn't appear he's done much smiling lately.

My only question is...why?

I put myself in his place and wonder no longer. My accident did this to him. Not only did it put me into a life-threatening coma, it also placed Edward into the position of having to sit there and watch me slowly fade away. It had to have been devastating to go through.

My eyes widen further when another horrific realization occurs to me. Carlisle said they brought me to Alaska so he could change my body into that of an immortal. But what he neglected to mention earlier was that he did it to Edward as well. I don't need to ask why. It's so obvious it hurts.

Edward had himself changed into a vampire because of me. So we would be together no matter what.

A sharp, stabbing pain attacks me where my heart once beat. Part of me hopes I'm delusional and only imagining that he did this to himself. I know enough about vampire life that I am aware of the downsides of living forever. Besides the obvious blood drinking, there are the personal sacrifices you must make. Edward surrendered all of his hopes and dreams when he did this to himself - even his promising music career. There is no way a vampire could play a piano in packed concert halls and sign autographs for fans without eventually exposing his secret.

I've never wanted to drag Edward into the many predicaments I found myself in during my lifetime. He had to pull me away from the path of Tyler's runaway van the second time we ever had a conversation. Then Edward had to save my life when the serial rapist in Port Angeles attacked me. Not to mention the numerous times he's caught me before I tripped and fell flat on my face. And then I had to go and make matters worse by getting hit by a car. Perfectly fit, healthy, and happy Edward then felt the need to give up the greatest gift he had.

His life.

"Did you really do this?" I ask him, my voice shaking.

His eyelids snap shut, blocking me from reading his emotions. "I'm sorry, love. I'm so very, very sorry," he murmurs. The tone he uses is low but ear-catching. Immortality took his old charismatic voice and found a way to improve upon it further. It's mesmerizing to such an extent that I can't question him on why the very first words out of his mouth is an apology.

He meets my gaze again, this time the hurt in his eyes on full display. "There was no other choice," he goes on. "It was either risk having you die or...this. And, to me, your death was not a option. I suppose it was selfish of me to make a decision of this magnitude without knowing what you would have wanted. But I-... I couldn't imagine you going on like that for one minute longer than you already had, Bella. Having you lying there for weeks - not saying a word or moving a muscle..." He trails off his sentence. The fingers of his right hand rakes through his hair, in the same manner as he would often do as a human when under stress. "It was pure agony. We had to do something for you. So, I turned to Carlisle to help us."

My canine tooth digs into my bottom lip as I watch him. He may not look exactly the same as he once did, but I'm beginning to see his old self in his new form.

"But you-...you did it, too," I reply softly. My hand lifts without my consent, eager to see how his marble-hard skin will feel underneath my fingertips. But I stop myself before I do so. I shouldn't get distracted by his body. It's hard enough to concentrate as it is.

"You changed for me... Didn't you?" I press, already knowing the answer.

Some of the strain around his mouth lessens. "I did it for us both."

My head shakes from side to side, guilt piling up by the second. That's such an Edward thing to say. He's trying to gloss over what he did - as though going through days of burning torture and giving up his humanity was no big deal. But the truth remains the same no matter how you look at it. He sacrificed himself all because of something that happened to me and me alone.

"But why?" I choke. "Why did you apologize to me when I'm the one to blame for doing this to you?"

He takes me by both shoulders, angling my body towards him. His gaze deepens as he stares back. "Listen to me. First of all, none of what happened was your fault. The accident was just what the name implies - an accident. They happen to hundreds of regular people every single day, so don't for a minute think that you are to blame. Secondly, I don't regret doing what I had to do to keep us together. My only regret was not knowing what you would have wanted. That's why I apologized, love."

His scarlet eyes break eye contact before he continues, flicking down to my sheet-covered lap. "I made the choice to have us both turned to vampires," he confesses, his voice weakening. "I subjected you to more pain than the car accident had. Back at the hospital in Ithaca, I brushed away all concerns except finding a way to keep you alive. I didn't care about the transformations pain, or if what I was doing was morally wrong. It wasn't until I experienced it myself did I realize that you may not agree with my decision."

It's easy to hear the self-reproach in his explanation. While I've been blaming myself for putting him through a month of needless stress, he has been condemning himself just as harshly. But he shouldn't. When I take the time to think about his actions, what he did for me is understandable. If Edward were ever in danger of dying, I know for a fact that I would do anything to save him. And I would do anything to be at his side.

Without hesitation, my hand gently strokes the side of his face. His eyes dart back up in surprise. My fingers slide down his cheekbone until they find his jawline, trying to comfort him in the best way I can. To comfort us both really.

"You know me," I begin, still touching him tenderly. "Sometimes I think that you know me better than myself. But you need to understand that I thought I was dead for a long time, Edward. I was alone with nothing but my thoughts. And during that time, there was only one thing I really thought about. Do you know what that thing was?"

His head moves from left to right and back again. Otherwise, he does not answer.

My fingers mold themselves to the new, marble flesh of his cheek. "It was you. I thought I would never see you again. And that my life was over... I would have given anything to see you one last time."

His Adam's apple bobs in his throat, catching my eye. My hand slides down his face and passes over his throat in captivation. Other things about him fascinate me, too. The V in his black shirt that points down to his pectoral muscles like a highway sign. The way the fabric clings to his body. His snug-fitting jeans...

Oops.

Distraction strikes once again. How long was I gone that time?

I tear my gaze away from his torso and refocus on a safer place - his face. "I didn't understand what had happened to me at the time, but I knew that something had gone wrong somewhere," I continue. "Now I know what happened. Now I know that I was practically dead... There was no hope left for me, was there?"

"No. There wasn't," he frowns.

My head nods once. "Then you did the right thing for me, Edward. All I've ever wanted was to be with you. I'll take it in whatever way I can. So stop beating yourself up."

The hint of worry returns to his eyes. "Maybe you should wait and hear the rest before you grant me clemency."

"What else could there be?" I question.

He releases a gloomy sigh. "A lot, actually... You see, time was running out for you. The Cullens and I came to the conclusion that there was no choice but to have Carlisle inject you with his venom before your condition worsened. Our decision left us in a quandary, however. Everyone we knew - from Ithaca to Forks - had already heard about your frail state of health. It was no secret that you likely would not make it for much longer. Not to mention there was a legion of nurses and doctors watching you around the clock. Therefore, we couldn't have you lying helpless in a bed one moment and up running around as a newborn vampire the next. That certainly would have raised a few red flags. It was agreed that we first had to get you out of Ithaca and to Alaska without arousing suspicion. There Carlisle could begin the transformation process on both you and me without fear of a human coming upon us and becoming our first snack.

"So we came up with a plan to get you out of Ithaca. It was simple really. Your doctors had been pressuring me to put you into a long-term care facility for a while. I refused every time. I wanted only the best care for you and had assumed the ICU would provide that. But once we made the decision to change you, I decided we could use the doctors' advice to our advantage. I agreed to their recommendation on the condition that I could take you to a medical facility closer to home. To Forks."

Edward's mouth purses for a moment. "I lied to them," he continues. "I had no intention of sending you to any more nursing homes or hospitals. I needed a decent excuse to get you out of the hospital and away from their prying eyes. With the doctors' blessings, you and I flew in a medical emergency plane to the Port Angeles airport. The crew were led to believe we were meeting up with an ambulance from Forks. That was another lie. The ambulance was one we had scrounged up. Irina was behind the wheel while Kate acted in the role of a paramedic. Instead of driving us to Forks, Irina brought us to another section of the airport where Carlisle and a private plane were waiting. And while you and I were being flown to Alaska, a few of us stayed behind in Washington."

"Why?" I question, furrowing my forehead.

"To stage another accident to cover our trail," he replies. His somber lips turn down even more at their corners. "You understand that our lives will be different now, don't you? Now that we are no longer human, there's no way we can return to Ithaca or Forks without bringing disaster down upon our heads. We would be recognized as Bella and Edward, yes. But our new bodies and chalk-white skin would arouse suspicion. And we can't have that. It was imperative we remove ourselves completely from society to keep us safe.

"So that's why - under cover of darkness - Irina crashed the ambulance along the highway to Forks. Carlisle had previously obtained some bodies to place inside of it." Edward's mouth twitches. "Don't worry. We didn't hurt anyone. I believe all of them had been donated to science." He clears his throat loudly before resuming. "As I was saying, Irina crashed the ambulance late at night to lessen the chance of anyone stumbling across what they were doing. Then the vehicle was set on fire. All four bodies were burned beyond recognition.

"Afterwards, we needed someone to phone the authorities and report the wreck. Jacob volunteered to do that for us. It was very helpful to have a local resident act as a sort of witness to it all. It gave the accident more credence, I think." Edward stops speaking briefly. His lips open and then close a time or two, appearing to choose his next words carefully. "That was around three nights ago. It has since been determined by the county coroner that all occupants of the ambulance were killed instantly upon impact." Red eyes bore into mine, strengthening their grip on my psyche. "Almost everyone we know thinks we're dead, Bella. The only people that know the truth are the Quileute pack, the people in this room, and your father."

His words hit me hard. I knew things would be different, but I don't know if I understood until now what I would be giving up. That means there will be no more attending classes at Cornell. No more checking in with my old friends from Forks, or having lunches or study groups with my new ones in Ithaca. No more sleeping in our beloved house. There will be no more of a lot of things.

My new reality is difficult to swallow. Though, I am also aware that I gave up all of those things the instant the car struck me down. There's no getting around it. I'm lucky that I had people like Edward and Carlisle to give me the opportunity to start over and begin a brand new life. It will be hard to adjust to, I know. Edward and I will have to master being animal-blood drinkers for a while before we can even get near civilization again. But at least I CAN do that one day. After experiencing a month of confinement within the dark recesses of my mind, I'll take it.

My body jerks to attention. Something Edward casually mentioned towards the end of his story falls on me like a truckload of bricks.

"The only people that know the truth are the Quileute pack, the people in this room, and your father," he had revealed.

My Father!

"Charlie knows I'm a vampire now?" I ask, eye wide.

Edward shakes his head in the negative. "No...not exactly. To comply with Volturi rules, Alice and I blurred the edges around the truth a bit to protect him. I told Charlie there was a way to cure your injuries and wake you up from the coma. He was very interested until I explained that it was a relatively unknown medical treatment which is only available to a select few. The man especially didn't understand why I would need to receive the treatment as well. Of course, he didn't believe a word I said after that - not that I can blame him. He probably thought the stress had finally gotten to me and I had become nothing more than a madman.

"Luckily, Alice stepped in for me and turned the tide in our favor. She dropped a few hints which gave Charlie the impression that she and the other Cullens had all once been brought back from the brink of death by the same secret medical cure. She then went on to say that was the reason why they all look so very different from your average man or woman.

"Charlie bought that explanation. He took it surprisingly well, too. It turns out that Charlie knew there was something fishy about the Cullens this whole time, but he had kept quiet about it since they weren't causing any trouble." One side of Edward's mouth lifts slightly. "He knows there's something strange about some of the Quileute, too. He pointed out how Seth disappeared for a few weeks back when he was fourteen and then reappeared with a new, improved body. Charlie asked me if the medical treatment we would receive is similar to what happened to Seth. I told him yes... He's a very smart man."

Edward's hand musses up the hair at the top of his head. "So now Charlie is aware that the Cullens are unlike other humans. He's just not sure of the specifics. To his credit, he didn't complain too much about not being told absolutely everything. His only wish was to keep you alive. Everything else was unimportant to him in the long run. That's why Charlie chose to help us with our plan. Frankly, I doubt we could have pulled it off as well as we did without him. He agreed to speed up the investigation into the crash as best as he could to prevent anyone from discovering the truth. He - um-... He also identified the bodies from the ambulance as being our own. Thanks to him, no one suspects it wasn't us in that accident."

I take a moment to absorb all this information. I'm stunned to learn that both Charlie AND Jacob had a hand in this mess. Jacob couldn't possibly have been thrilled by the thought of two newborns being added to the planet, but he helped make it happen anyway. And my dad... That's even harder to fathom. He helped fake my death. He had to LIE when he identified two of those strangers' bodies as being Edward's and my own. And all for what? So his daughter could live but he never hear or see from her again?

At least he knows the most important part of the truth, I remind myself. He knows you're not dead.

As I take solace in that, an image of a face overrides everything else. Bright blue eyes. Dark hair. Facial features similar to mine except for a few laugh lines around her mouth.

Mom.

It has taken me until now to realize something I should have seen right from the start. When Edward told me of the people who know the truth, my mom's name did not come up.

"So... Charlie knows I'm alive, but Mom thinks I'm dead?" I state aloud, my voice lowering until it almost breaks. If there was a way for me to cry, I would. Unfortunately, my tear ducts no longer function.

Edward's cherry-red eyes dim. "I'm sorry. But, yes. She thinks you're dead. I asked Charlie if she could be trusted to keep quiet about everything, but he said that he didn't think she would understand." His perfect lips suck in a breath before continuing. "But, if you think that she could handle the responsibility and not reveal anything, we can contact her, too."

I give an unsteady shake of my head, hating myself for having to admit the truth. "No, Edward. We can't. She would never understand. She wouldn't be able to keep it a secret. She would broadcast it to everyone she knows that I am still alive."

Edward clenches his eyelids for a moment. "I'm so sorry, love."

"It's not your fault," I respond softly.

We share a mutual look of distress. Then my upper body strikes like a snake, head falling upon his chest and hands clinging for dear life. He accepts me into his embrace and allows me to grieve. Pale fingers stroke my thick hair, giving me the comfort that I crave.

Edward may look different in his new form, but there's no denying that inside he hasn't changed much at all. His heart and soul remain unchanged. I can sense the old Edward behind every loving touch he gives. And he is exactly what I need to begin my second chance at life.

"This is just the way it's got to be, I guess," I murmur. "But at least I'll still have you."

"Always," he replies, holding me tighter than before.

The side of my face buries itself into his chest, attempting to hide from my pain. It doesn't work as well as I would like. All I can think about is my mom. She has always been a sensitive person, the type who wears their heart on their sleeve. She must know of the accident by now. Mom thinks I am dead. How is she holding up? I'm sure it must be tough on her. My only consolation is knowing she has Phil to help get her through this time. He's a good man. I bet he dropped everything and came running to comfort her the moment she needed him by her side. She will have her many friends and Phil's gigantic family as a support system, too. She'll never be alone. That soothes the ache in my heart a little.

But me never again seeing her smiling face? Never hearing her laughter, or listening to her embarrassing stories that would always make me blush? That's devastating.

I raise my face up from Edward's chest. An idea pops out of my mouth before I can chicken out. "Do you think it would be all right if I kept up with her?" I ask uncertainly. "Watched her from behind the scenes sometimes to make sure she's OK?"

He reaches for a lock of my hair and moves it away from my forehead. "I'm sure that would be fine. And Charlie can give you updates on what she's up to."

My wide-eyed gaze crosses his, stunned beyond belief. "I can still talk to him?"

"Of course you can. In fact, I promised him that you would call as soon as you could. Maybe tomorrow, if you'd like."

A whole new torrent of emotions twists my insides into knots. I've heard some of the stories of how the members of the Cullens came to be vampires. The main theme was the difficult task of giving up contact with all of their family and friends. I thought I would suffer the same fate. Instead, I am fortunate enough to be able to at least keep Charlie in my life. The news is more than I could have hoped for.

I don't need to ask who arranged this for me. The answer stands right in front of my face.

My thumb brushes against his cheekbone. "Thank you."

His hand catches mine and presses my palm into the side of his face. "Don't thank me for doing the bare minimum, Bella." His voice drops to a husky whisper, eyes capturing and holding my gaze. "You've had so much taken away from you. This was the very least I could do."

I can't speak. Can't move, either. I think Edward has permanently put me under his spell - now more than ever. Good thing I don't need to breathe anymore.

"I love you," I blurt out.

"I know," he says without missing a beat. Then, he smiles. A real one. It's blinding and gorgeous. "But not as much as I love you," he tacks on at the end.

My smiling eyes roll at his teasing. "Impossible."

Before he can argue to the contrary, I grab the sides of his face and claim his lips. He goes along with it without complaint. I wasn't sure how things would be now that our bodies have changed so dramatically. There was a vague concern in the back of my mind that we would be stiff and spiritless. Like walking statues, maybe. But I'm pleased to find that kissing him is a dream. It's far and away the best feeling I have ever had, fierce and overwhelming.

How can this be so good? In high school, the teacher explained that hormones are what drive your desire, making you so desperate to connect with that special person, your entire body will react. But immortal bodies don't work that way. Vampires don't have hormones. No Sex Ed class can explain this feeling.

I come up with my own hypothesis. This is all Edward's doing. And I like it.

Our languid kisses turn progressively more frenzied. A spark ignites between us that burns hotter than the venom which hardened our bodies. His lips taste like heaven and move over mine with purpose, driving me mad. When he seizes my hips and pulls me flat against him, my brain threatens to short-circuit. Vampires are supposed to be naturally intelligent. Yet right now, I doubt I could count to ten. I don't care. I am much too busy reveling in what I had once feared I had lost forever than to give a damn about anything else.

I can't wait to see how the rest of him tastes, I think dreamily as he bites down on my bottom lip. I bet it'll be like licking a popsicle. He always did like that thing I can do with my tongue...

Edward's mouth promptly pulls away from mine, leaving me panting and confused. His bronze head snaps to his left, a deep scowl forming on his face. "Oh, please excuse us, Rose," he snaps sarcastically. "But if you recall, I haven't kissed my wife in weeks. What's your excuse? Remember the countless times the whole family had to watch you and Emmett fondling each other whenever the urge hit you?"

My body straightens to attention. I had forgotten we had an audience of Cullens and Denali coven members watching us all this time. Thank goodness I didn't start groping him. That would have been awkward. But what made Edward snap at Rosalie like that? Was I so distracted by his mouth and kisses that I didn't hear her speak?

I find Rosalie standing stock still, in the same spot she stood earlier. Her blonde eyebrows are knitted firmly together as she stares at Edward.

Almost simultaneously, perky laughter follows Edward's remark. "Yeah!" Alice agrees. She glances at Rosalie and Emmett with an amused smirk. "Like that time you two decided to attack each other in the kitchen and Esme caught you fooling around on the table. After that, Edward refused to eat in there at all until the table was replaced. I think it was two weeks before he set foot in the kitchen again."

Esme clicks her tongue, shaking her head anxiously. "And he lost a whole pound, too."

"Emmett," Edward growls, eyeing the muscular vampire across the room with a glare of stone. "Please keep in mind that I can see the kitchen incident right along with you. I would appreciate it if you would hold off recalling that fond memory of yours until I'm far, far away."

"Sorry, man, but I can't help it," Emmett shrugs with outward innocence. "You saw how great Rose looked. If you don't like it, stop sticking your nose into my head."

Rosalie strikes a model's pose, an arm wedged upon her hip. Her puzzled eyes dart from one face to another several times before refocusing on Edward. "How did you-?" She abruptly stops speaking, apparently at a loss for words.

Emmett lets out a sigh like a dying accordion, his eyes sagging with weariness. "He's a friggin' mind reader, babe."

My head whips around to stare at Edward so fast that my neck would have broken if I were still human.

My husband...

Is a mind reader...

Like a rising flood, every thought I've had since waking as a vampire piles up. A good number of them involved me drooling over his body and imagining him in compromising positions. Did he see them? In my thoughts? Oh god. I didn't want him or anyone else to ever know about my obsession with him!

Or the one I have with his glorious ass...

I've always been attached to it. I remember staring at his butt an awful lot - especially after we first got married and I finally had unfettered access to it.

I wonder what it looks like in his vampire form? Is it possible that it could be even better than before? I'll have to see it to believe it, because it was already pretty fantastic if memory serves me correctly. If he would only turn around a few more inches, I could...

My eyelids flap open like window shades being yanked up.

Edward can hear you RIGHT NOW, idiot, I scream at myself. Shut. Up!

I try to put a stop to my internal monologue and focus on making myself sound somewhat sane. Because, apparently, there could be someone listening.

My new vampire life just got way more complicated.

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A/N- I have to stop here so I can get the chapter out to you sooner. This was easily the hardest thing I have ever written. I wrote and rewrote it an embarrassing amount of times. Sorry for the long wait.

Next Chapter- Now that we've gotten most of the serious stuff out of the way, let's bring on the fun! Bella discovers some positive aspects of immortality. She goes hunting for the first time. She also finds out what happens when you're a newborn vampire that already has a mate. It involves her being thirsty. Very, very thirsty. ;-) And a couple of visitors show up in Alaska. See? Fun.

*Insert shameless self-promotion*

I have begun a new story called Prohibited Activity. I'm very excited about it. Here's the summary:

Forks in the 1980s was a place where music was outlawed. The police chief's sheltered daughter dreams of self-expression and freedom. The new boy in town can't dream at all. Yes, this was partially inspired by the movie Footloose - but has the addition of Vampward to spice it up. Because vampires make everything better. AU. No wolves.

That's right. Break out your neon scrunchies and rolled-up jeans, people. It's Twilight In 1985! Sort of. There will be an overbearing authority figure for you to despise, cruel and obnoxious teenagers you'll probably want to slap, an evil scheme, disturbingly big hair made possible by Aqua Net, and a moody vampire who just wants to be left in peace - until he gets stuck with watching out for the delicious smelling girl he meets on his first day of school. Did I mention that I'm excited about this? I'd love it if you'd join me there. Chapter two will be uploaded (fingers crossed) this coming week.

*End of shameless self-promotion*

Thanks for reading! :-)