The next few moments are a blur.
Emmett speeds on, sparing an occasional glance at Edward. He doesn't look angry; he just looks sad and worried. Alice and Jasper are in the flying car in front of them, and Edward listens to their panicked thoughts as they try to figure out what to do with the not-quite dead girl in their car.
"If we let her become one of us, we'd have to move. They would be suspicious. It would totally wreck us!" Jasper cries, awkwardly clutching the fragile girl in his arms.
Jasper has pity for the girl, but more concern for Alice. He imagines her exposed for all the world to see, or worse- being tortured by the Volturi.
Alice angrily changes gears. "Jasper, please. Let's not bother talking about it until we've seen Carlisle."
She doesn't saying it forebodingly, Edward realizes. They truly consult Carlisle over everything. He's not surprised, honestly. Carlisle was a natural leader, and a wise one at that.
The others' thoughts aren't fixated on ways to end his sorry existence. They're more on Bella, the girl whose life he's destroyed, and occasionally they think of how close she is to her father, which makes Edward sick.
He isn't close to anyone and now he's sentenced someone else to the same fate.
It's quiet when the four vampires and gravely ill girl enter the house. Edward immediately knows they're waiting for them in the living room.
Rosalie is sloppily dressed, something Edward's never seen. Sweatpants on the Beauty Queen are certainly a rarity. Normally it would be a sight to behold, but this isn't a normal moment. Unlike the others, she's thinking of ways to torture and hurt him for all of eternity. He's stolen from a girl what she believes was stolen from her: the right to lead a happy, fill life. She wants to rip him to shreds and set a large fire in the wilderness behind the house. Right now he'd welcome that. Anything would be better than the burning in his chest, for once more painful than the burn in his throat.
He looks to Carlisle but the older vampire keeps his eyes focused on the human and his thoughts carefully guarded.
"She has a long three days," Carlisle mutters sadly.
"Actually," Alice pipes up quietly, "she has enough venom in her that it might only be two. In fact I see it taking up to 22 hours."
Carlisle nods but says nothing. Her words are hardly a comfort. 22 hours of unspeakable agony can't be viewed as anything positive. Even Alice, as she speaks the words she means to use as a comfort, regrets the pain the girl will feel.
Esme steps in and tells Alice to bring the girl to the guest room. She then scurries about, collecting hot towels and cool towels, lugging out ridiculously soft sheets from a closet in the hall. She wonders if music will soothe Bella and make her transition easier. He doubts she'll be able to hear it above her own screams, but he says nothing.
He is nothing.
Thankfully Rosalie goes to help Esme and Alice prepare, sending Edward a scathing look before running upstairs. Her thoughts are still on how to dismember him without evoking Carlisle's wrath.
She grabs Emmett's hand and pulls him with her. Jasper mumbles about needing to hunt, that the blood smelled delicious. Then he disappears, leaving father and son.
Finally they are alone, and Edward hardly knows if he feels relief or anxiety. Or both.
The vampire Edward respects the most sighs and sinks into an arm chair, looking strangely every bit his age in spite of his young features. His thoughts are entirely blocked now and Edward regrets teaching him how to do it.
He imagines Carlisle must want him to sit, too, so he takes a tentative seat on the sofa. Carlisle's sad eyes inspect his hands before finally, finally, looking up to Edward's. Then he looks like he's been slapped- his eyes widen and his mouth sags- and he looks back down quickly.
Blood, is all he thinks.
Ah, Edward figures. The red eyes.
The temporary but painful reminder of what he's just done.
Edward can't bear the silence any longer. "I'm so sorry, Carlisle."
The words are said so softly, so quietly, he can hardly hear them. But he's confident Carlisle can. They are small and meaningless when compared to what's happened, but he needs to say them regardless.
Carlisle still manages to surprise him.
"Alice had a vision." Edward opens his mouth but Carlisle continues quickly. "Not the one you shared with her."
Staring at Edward's knees, Carlisle continues. "She saw specifically who you would attack this time. We tried to race to you immediately but she told us no matter what we would be too late. That this was fate. That Bella was your singer and she was meant to die."
He rubs his face like an exhausted human and stands, making his way over to the window.
"When she mentioned the word singer, Emmett immediately reacted. He's encountered his own. He says it's unlike anything he's ever known. An experience that rivals all others. I... can't imagine it. Fortunately I've never met anyone whose blood was more tempting than the rest."
He makes his way back over to Edward and determinately meets his gaze. Edward hears the struggle it is for him to look at him, to see the red swirl where there should be gold.
He sits next to him and takes one of Edward's clenched hands into his own. Edward's fist doesn't relax, but neither does Carlisle's hold.
"I love you, Edward. I'm not disappointed in you. Throughout these hard years you have hurt me, but I can understand why. I will always understand why there's a corner in all of the minds of our family that wonder if I've made the right decision to play God." He sighs heavily. "I've been assured by my own research into the concept as well as the others' testimonials that there was nothing you could have done. You were lost to her the very moment you were able to smell her. I'm so sorry."
Edward is shaking his head. He won't allow himself to get off this easily. He shouldn't be allowed to get off this easily.
All of the faces of his victims flash before his eyes, their faces contorted into shock, horror, and then the throes of pain and death. He remembers their faces as they clutched desperately onto life, spending their last few moments with the Devil.
"I could have easily stayed home. I could have fought it harder. I could have never come back here and abstained on my own."
Carlisle sinks a hand down on his shoulder and manages a small, pained smile. "You're where you belong- with us. I will never doubt that, so neither should you. As unfortunate as this all is, I wouldn't change having you here and I don't want you to question your choice. I know you're blaming yourself right now and there's nothing I can say or do to convince you that you did nothing wrong. It is just our nature."
Carlisle sighs for what sounds like the millionth time and looks Edward over carefully. "You need time to realize that what you just went through would claim the best of us. We will figure this out."
It sounds like a promise; Edward isn't good with promises.
He stands to leave the room, hands in pockets, and then glances back at his favorite child. "It was fate, Edward. Fate."
Edward can't believe how much he's loved. It hits him completely for the first time. Esme, Alice, Emmett, Jasper, even Rosalie, are echoing the same thoughts in their head. Well, Rosalie isn't saying she loves him or forgives him or that he did nothing wrong, but she is admitting that sometimes she's been tempted to slip. And that she doesn't know what she'd do if she came in contact with her own singer. She's sickened by the thought that there is something out there stronger than her control. It makes her shudder with contempt and fear.
Edward doesn't feel any better; he imagines he never will.
But he believes Carlisle when he says somehow, someday, things will.
22 hours are nothing but an unrecognizable flutter of seconds in a vampire's eyes.
These particular 22 hours, however, are the most acute form of torture for Edward. He can't imagine what they're like for her. He vaguely remembers the pain, the confusion, the loss. They're not fond memories. Most vampires stifle them, forget them in their travels of blood and conquest.
Now Edward revels in them, feeling the need to torture himself somehow.
He stands in the doorway of the guest room, watching the young girl moan and cry out for her mother.
"Renee, Renee," she whimpers softly, almost reluctantly. "Mom."
She is hallucinating, seeing monsters and bugs crawling up the walls. She says she's burning, like she's in a vat of acid, and that her flesh is literally being torn away. Edward remembers that feeling all too well.
She wants to go home, she tells Esme who is wiping her forehead.
Esme tries to soothe her with ice and classical music but it's not helping in the slightest.
What can in the face of hell?
The 22 hours are now finally almost over. There's only a few minutes left, and now Bella cools down. In fact, she's freezing.
She's shivering and her lips are blue. Her eyes are glassy and unfocused. She looks terrible.
"W-w-where am I?" she asks Esme, her voice small and frightened.
"With friends," Esme promises cryptically, stroking the girl's forehead.
"Who are you?" she rasps, her eyes taking note of Edward's shadowed form before sagging back to Esme's.
"Shh, sweetheart. We're going to take care of you."
Then she is still. Edward wonders, not for the first time, if maybe sometimes the strange magic doesn't work. Maybe she won't wake up and know what he's done to her and hate him for a lifetime. He'd deserve it.
At first he's almost relieved- she won't be reduced to the same insufferable, unavoidable, unbearable fate. Then, in a most selfish way, it would save him from staring a mistake in the face for all of eternity.
A few seconds pass and her eyelids begin to move. Rubies appear to be shining out of her eyes as she slowly scans the room.
So she has awoken. Edward exhales heavily enough to garner a look from Esme. He's unsure whether he's disappointed or satisfied.
Yet he is astonished by how different she looks. She is the same girl, but it is as if Isabella did some expensive make-over. People might give her a second look and then think she just looks amazingly like her, or maybe she's a very distant cousin. That's it. They would never imagine it was the same girl. Edward doubts that even her father would recognize her.
She sits up and smacks her lips together, running her small tongue along the cracked surface. She swallows heavily.
She's thirsty, Edward thinks. He expected she'd want to feed as soon as she woke.
He was no different. He remembers his first hunt vividly.
He's growing uncomfortable by her silence, however, and by something else- he can't hear her thoughts anymore. He's perplexed. He tries all different approaches but there's nothing. First he wonders if perhaps she hasn't thought anything yet, but that's stupid because he'd at least see himself and Esme in her thoughts. Maybe, he wonders with alarm, she's brain-dead. Maybe the transformation did something to her.
But no, he decides, taking in the gleam of her eyes. She's definitely thinking something.
She's up and crashing through the bedroom window with the true force of a newborn before Esme or Edward can stop her. Alice, Carlisle, and Jasper are galloping, too, following in the heavily wooded forest. Their feet trample twigs and damp leaves as they race after her. Edward can't hear any humans around, and Alice doesn't see any danger happening, but they'd prefer to keep her in their sights.
And then they see the mutilated animals- squirrels, birds, finally a bear- and a long, thick trail of blood.
She sits in the middle of the carnage, looking around her as if she is in some sort of daze. Her legs are filthy, her hair filled with leaves and twigs, her face smeared with dark blood. She seems revolted but sated.
Esme quietly makes her way over to her and helps her stand, though the girl's strength is clearly something Esme's unprepared to manage. Wordlessly Carlisle makes his way over, hooking the girl's other arm over his shoulders. The two carry her back to the house, saying nothing.
Jasper slowly trails after them but Alice lingers, letting Edward see her thoughts.
Isabella is going to have a freakout soon. A big one.
She turns and follows her husband, leaving Edward alone amongst Isabella's massacre.
She's strangely quiet when they return, but Alice and Edward know it won't last long. They've already seen it.
Esme takes her up to the bath and coaxes her in the shower. Once Isabella emerges clean, Esme slowly dresses her and brings her down to the others, who watch with a mixture of curiosity and pity.
Unsure of how to start things, Carlisle sits there silently, waiting on some cue from the girl. He doesn't have to wait long.
"Who are you?" she asks, not for the first time.
Carlisle and Esme exchange a glance. "We're vampires," Carlisle finally admits.
Isabella doesn't laugh. She believes them, Edward's sure. The proof is out in the forest. "And what am I?" she asks in a tiny voice.
She knows the answer, of course, but denial isn't just a human weakness.
Sighing, Carlisle leans his elbows on his knees. "Now you are the same."
Her red eyes scan the room nervously, taking in Emmett's hulking figure. She studies Rosalie's blank expression, Alice's barely subdued glee, and Jasper's calm restraint.
"Like you," she says needlessly. She's merely echoing his words; Edward can see they haven't been absorbed yet.
Carlisle nods.
She takes a breath, clearly thinking hard about something. Edward has felt nothing but guilt since his assault on Isabella, but now he feels a tingling of curiosity. He wants to know what she's thinking.
"The animals... Why am I not going after humans? Do you?"
Carlisle smiles a small, half-smile. "No. We drink from animals instead. We try to be as good as our nature allows us."
Her red eyes flick to me and take me in. I imagine I don't look so great; I've needed to feed desperately.
"I know you," she says slowly, the locks clicking into place in her head. "You're the one who did this to me."
Her voice is flat. Matter of fact.
"Yes," I whisper.
"So you don't always go after animals, after all," she says, the words tumbling out of her like deliberate knives. She turns her attention back to Carlisle. "So I'm like this... forever?"
He nods, looking over at Esme. The beacon of comfort. Only she looks as heartbroken as the girl lost to the world.
"Forever," she repeats to herself. The enormity, finality of it all is dawning on her.
"WIll I ever see my family again?" she whispers, sounding as though if she were human she'd cry.
"No, sweetheart," Esme answers time, gingerly rubbing the girl's wrist. "It isn't safe for them. You will stay with us."
"And feed on animals for eternity," she spits, her eyes now slitting into anger as they once again sweep my way.
"We won't make you stay with us, Isabella" Carlisle assures her. "But there are things you must know about our world before you venture out on your own. We can't let you do that yet, as a matter of safety. For the humans, for you, for us..."
"We'll take care of you," Alice promises.
She sees a glimpse of them in the future, laughing and dipping in a pond together. They are best friends.
Edward glances at the girl's face now and wonders how far into the future that will be.