A/N: I'm catching up with , just updating the chapters I haven't posted here yet. There will be a new one out at the end of it all, so leave me some love (or hate whatever)!

I own nothing, not the book, not the movie, not the songs.

Rating: T to M for mature language and situations.

Flight 5107

Chapter Seven: for a minute there I lost myself

I was going to lose her, of this much I was sure.

For three days and three nights, I watched as Bella lay slowly dying in my arms. Her fate was unbearable to me, but it was imminent. It was times like this when I wished I was unaware, ignorant of any sort of medical knowledge. But alas, that was not the case, and my knowledge betrayed me. I could recognize all of the signs.

She was septic.

It was funny, she had bad blood. Infected blood that was poisoning her system.

And there was nothing I could do about it.

I snickered to myself. I guess I was better at taking lives rather than saving them.

She had collapsed after vomiting on the beach, her body shaking and writhing about. At first, I'd been afraid that she was seizing, either from a metabolic disturbance or some other central nervous process. And once her body stopped thrashing, she had gotten so confused, was that a post-ictal state?

I waited for her condition to improve. Seizures are very common, they don't always portend to a poor prognosis. But then the decline continued and she was hard to arouse from her lapses in consciousness. And that's when I started to smell the difference, the slight nuance that was giving her blood a more acrid odor. Bacteria was swimming freely through her blood, feasting away at her organs, attacking her immune defenses, pumping through the chambers of her heart. I didn't know how much or what damage it had already done, but I knew the infection was taking her quickly.

She'd been waxing and waning so frequently in her level of awareness that I didn't dare leave her side for fear of a quick deterioration. Instead, I took her into my arms and didn't let go. I'd promised her that I would not leave, and I would not go back on my word now. I had no other choice than to stay.

I wiped her furrowed brow, letting my fingers trace the wrinkles in her wet skin. Sweat poured off her body; the fever was out of control. Damn the heat. I had to fight myself extra hard to control the thirst. Even with the added pungency, her scent was so tempting to me. It was distracting to say the least. I was truly a monster to think of my desire when she was about to lose her life.

Why couldn't it be me?

Oh, maybe because I was a century old vampire who was already dead. Trust me, if I could die, I would have gladly traded places with her. My death would be far less consequential than hers. It was unfair for me to have lived several lives over, when her only one was going to end so prematurely. I would give anything, everything in my life to ensure that this girl lived. And the truth was, I wasn't even sure why. She affected me in a way that was unprecedented; never before had I experienced so much anguish and pain over a human being. Even in the early days when I lapsed into the murderer I used to be, I'd felt bad, maybe a little guilty, but I'd never felt like this. It had never been like this for anyone before, even with my family, whom I loved dearly. This was different. Bella was a permanent fixture in my thoughts and more importantly in my heart. I'd never felt anything for anyone because I thought I'd been doomed to live this life alone.

Until she came along and I finally figured out what had been missing.

She'd come and rescued me from an eternity of loneliness. Bella was my soul mate. I'd seen this idea of a "soul mate" in the minds of others before, their thoughts leading them to believe that there was only one true love for them. Fools. I had previously dismissed these musings as silly myths, but now I knew there was inherent truth to these theories.

Bella was my soul mate. I knew this now more than ever. She was my singer; her blood sang for only me. But soon that wonderful voice would be silenced. Call it fate, call it whatever you will. I was meant to be alone. This is my punishment in this life.

She sputtered as she hacked a cough out, her back arching in pain as her distressed lungs forced out short gasps. Her whole body was clammy, her clothes soaked through. Her cheeks were flushed so beautifully, as they had been without the sickness eating away at her. It was a reminder of what she had been, but now that blush was a sign of devastation. Hyperthermia.

Her body was frail, dry, withered with dehydration. Hypovolemia.

I did anything and everything in my power to remedy her, to fix her. As she started to grow more feverish, I cooled her warm head with my hands, my head, anything…I was just trying to be as close to her as possible.

How much time did she have left?

I cursed the world and whomever was damning me for tempting with fate. We were just starting to get along, why now?

Please don't take her, I've been so good. I saved her. I was able to resist.

Yeah, I was a real fucking martyr.

Lightning crashed as the sky cackled at us, mocking me.

She was only getting worse with every passing moment. Her heart raced erratically. Tachycardia was a bad sign. Her breaths were quick and shallow. Tachypnea was always a bad sign. I could barely feel a pulse, it was thready. Her blood pressure was low as a result of the sepsis decreasing her vascular resistance. Even her blood vessels were too tired to put up a fight. She needed fluids, replacement, antibiotics, anything. But she couldn't control her swallowing; she didn't have control of any of her basic mental capacities. I wasn't going to risk aspiration, which would just be something else that would weaken her defenses. This is what it felt like to be helpless. It was only a matter of time before all of her organs started to fail from the low perfusion.

Her mind was gone. When she was conscious she was delirious, confused, agitated. She'd fought me, she'd scratched and kicked at me. I pinned her arms down to stop her from hurting herself. I was faced with the harshest of realities. Even if she did get out of this alive, she would be a mere shell of the Bella she once was. Her brain was affected, her cognition was well on its way to being destroyed.

She did say my name though. And every time that disgraced word left her lips, it was enough to keep my hope alive and damn me to the deepest hell all at once. It was probably foolish, but I would still have faith.

I should have swam, and I shouldn't have stopped until I found someone who could help her. But I couldn't leave her, I couldn't bear to disappear when she needed me most. I was much too selfish for that. I didn't want to lose any time with her. I would not let her be alone. I loved her.

I loved her. And that's why I made the decision to do the only thing that I thought could give her a chance at life.

I was going to drink her blood.

----

Was I really going to do this?

I couldn't do this.

I had to do this.

The only man who had ever attempted what I was about to try had barely been able to resist to urge to stop, and he had more compassion for humanity in his index finger than I could ever hope to have in all of eternity.

There was three scenarios. First one was the best one. I would drink enough of her blood without biting her to filter out the infection. She would then hopefully recover without incident. The second scenario saw me drinking, biting and then killing her. I would not be able to stop myself from fulfilling my primal urge. I shuddered. That was obviously not optimal. The third one, which was the least desirable, had me transforming her with my venom…

I would not let that happen.

I would not condemn her to an eternity of misery.

I fought the thoughts in my mind that created an image of Bella and I in the future, she in a long white dress standing next to me. In these fantasies, her skin would be so pale, so white, there would be no denying what she would become. Her beauty would be illuminated by the subtle changes in her features that would come with the transformation. She wouldn't change much though, she'd still be the most beautiful girl in the world to me. And she would be mine. I would be hers.

And we would live together forever.

Forever. It was not her destiny.

I carried Bella into the makeshift shelter I built from sheet metal from the plane. Gingerly laying her on her blankets, her body trembled without my skin to cool her. If it was one thing I was able to give her, it was the slight comfort from my sub-zero body. I was useful for something, I guess. I lay down next to her, pressing myself against her shivering form. My forehead was flush against hers, my body aching for her.

"Edward…Edward…" She repeated my name over and over, her eyes blank and stormy.

Fat droplets of rain fell atop the metal roof, a pitter-patter of echoes. Another storm. I dripped water from a soaked washcloth into her mouth. I traced my finger down her forehead, past her bleary eyes, down her sweet mouth. She twisted her body away from me, her legs kicking at the air. I had to drink soon. Time was running out.

Lightning flashed in the darkened sky outside our little hideaway. I snickered to myself, it was twilight, what was supposed to be the safest time for us. It was supposed to protect her from the dangers darkness could bring. What a load of shit that was.

I unwrapped her leg, the festering wound the likely source of the infection. The skin surrounding the cut was gangrenous and edematous. Her leg was tender, the wound was reddened and hot. Greenish-yellow pus erupted from the infection as I squeezed it lightly. I expressed the prurulent material from the deep wound to expose the jagged edges of the cut. It was a big enough laceration, no need to bite. Good, that would make it the slightest bit easier. She shook as I massaged her calf. Her skin was so hot there, but it didn't warm me like the rest of her body.

I lowered my head to her leg. Her eyes remained closed. She was finally still, and I didn't want to check if she was still breathing. My lips touched her leg and she flinched at the cold. Good, she was alive. My nostrils filled with her scent. I was finally able to pinpoint exactly what she smelled like…lavender and freesias plus the impurities in her system. I wanted to smell her the way she was before, it was going to happen. I had to believe that she would come back to me.

A tiny droplet of blood oozed out of the festinating wound. This was it. It was time.

My tongue darted out and caught it before it dribbled down her calf.

My body shook as it tried to hold itself still. Oh, shit. Yes. Hot. Cold. Muscles contracting. Go. Pain. Up. Down. Stirred. No. Relaxing. Crazy. Frenzy. Stop. Calm. Pulling. Love. Motion. Focus. Pushing. Life. Death. Monster. Laughing. Mocking.

Fuck.

Flittering images of my past flashed before me as I tasted the sweetness of the iron. Dying. Transforming. Running. Fighting. My parents. Carlisle. Bella.

A snarl that no part of me could suppress reverberated through my vocal cords. My teeth bared as my insides were slashed to pieces by a million of the dullest, most rusty blades causing a flurry of tetanic contractures.

My teeth chattered, my hands flitted left and right, grasping at the target. No concentration. I braced myself for the complete joy and despair that was to follow. My mouth latched onto her leg as I sucked, long, hard and slow. My nerves jumped around like a bunch of school children with hyperactivity syndrome…on crack. She was the sweetest, most decadent lamb I'd ever feasted on...mmm, so mouthwatering. My wildest dreams couldn't have imagined this divine taste. My eyes closed as the warmth trickled down my throat, delighting every taste bud, every axon and dendrite transmitting its wonderful deliciousness to my brain. My happy brain. I drank freely, being able to savor the nuances in her wine. There was no stopping now.

The color drained out of her face as I glanced up at her. She stared at me with a dreamy, enamored gaze. Her eyes were half closed, her breaths were even. She was at peace. She could feel no pain now.

She reached down towards me and ruffled my hair, a gesture that both assured me and mortified me.

"love…you…"

My head snapped up and away from her flesh. A trail of blood dribbled down my chin as I tore out of the tent and into the freezing rain. The world turned circles in my brain and I ran. I dove into the surf, swimming as quickly as possible. I had to find help and I had to find it now. Trouble was, who would it be for, her or me?


Inspired by King of Pain by the Police, Karma Police by Radiohead, Time is Running Out by Muse