Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer. I don't own this stuff. Yada yada yada. Poor poor pitiful me.

Carlisle had once again turned his office into a hospital room. Machines cluttered the floor and this time there were two beds in the center of the room. The two girls were attached to machines that monitored their heart rate. Their breathing was normal but they both had high fevers and Carlisle was working meticulously around them, trying to lower their temperatures. Turns out, Holly lived alone in a house out side of the town. She now lived with us, full time; ever since we found out she was alone. Carlisle had insisted and Edward and I had seconded his decision. For the first days before the girls got sick, it had been like one big sleepover. Then they got sick and the girls were moved into the office.

"Carlisle," I called, peering into the room. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Of course," He stepped out of the office and we walked down the hall, out of earshot.

"What is going on here Carlisle? How sick are they? Do they really need all these machines?" I asked hotly.

"Bella, I know this is a stressful time," Carlisle consoled, "but all these things really are necessary. This machine," He gestured to a machine that was attached to both girls, "pumps fluid into the girls' arms. This machine…"

"Carlisle," Edward interrupted, coming up from behind me and grasping my hand. "What is wrong with them?"

"Edward, Bella," Carlisle sighed. "The girls have extremely high fevers. Renesmee is about 112 and Holly's is a little higher they have a case of a the flu. A bad one. But it is worsened by their immortality. The fact that they are both part human makes them susceptible." Carlisle shook his head. "This is a sad state of affairs. I'm doing the best I can. I can only hope its good enough."

Edward placed a hand on his father's arm. "I trust you. Please help our daughter and her friend." Carlisle nodded, turned and walked back towards the room, going back to his patients.

Edward turned to me. "He's doing all he can. That's all we can ask, love."

"I know," I replied, resting my head on his shoulder. "It's just hard. I love Renesmee and I love Holly like my own daughter. I don't want to see them hurting. I don't want to see them sick."

"Nor do I. But we can't do anything more. The girls are in Carlisle's hands. Very capable hands. They are safe."

---

I sat in the living room at the main house, flicking idly through the hundreds of channels on the TV. I could hear what was going on up stairs but I didn't want to. I knew I should be upstairs, holding my daughters hand, but if I went up there, I knew I would fall to pieces. I didn't wasn't the girls to see me like that. It was hard enough on them as it is, floating in and out of consciousness, extremely high fevers, sweating bullets. The immortality that tied the girls to their mythical ancestors could not save them now. They had to heal. Edward and I were suffering, yes. But our suffering was nothing compared to Jacob's suffering.