We're down to one more after this. Woot! Sorry I was unable to get to the review replies last chapter. I make no promises that I'll get to them this time either. I've started working (eww) so you know how that goes.

Alby Mangroves rocks, but you already know that. She really helped to incorporate all the elements this chapter was missing/needed. Big thanks to her!

All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.

- Henry Ellis

. . . | . . .

C H A P T E R - T H I R T E E N

The World Ends With You

~. . . . -=|=- . . . .~

A candle flickered in front of me, pushing against the blackness below the floors of the house. The cellar was cool, and stocked with rows upon rows of gleaming jars holding various fruits and vegetables of different colors. There were large bags of flour and sugar, enough to last several years, I figured, if used sparingly. Barrels were bunched in a corner, not hinting to what was contained within. There were more potatoes in small crates on the floor and a small basket of apples, which only reminded me of the events that had transpired yesterday in the same darkness.

Beyond the shelves of the underground pantry, the gray cement wall led me to the corner where Bella sat on the floor, her arms stretched over her and hands suspended in metals cuffs. Her face looked much like mine; cuts and bruises disfigured her smooth-looking skin. Her eyes were bloodshot, and I wondered, very briefly, if she was meant to endure the same fate as Alice, but it wasn't a thought I could bear.

I unlocked her, and as soon as her hands were free from the wall, she scrambled from the floor, threw her arms around me and clawed at my back, holding onto me from fear or relief, or perhaps both. Her breaths were heavy and erratic in my ear, and her body shook like a leaf against mine. She wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed.

The bite from the bullet tore from my shoulder to my neck. I cringed and pushed away from her with a deep inhale of stagnant air as if it would keep the pain at bay. It did the exact opposite. I groaned against the swell in my chest and distanced myself further, allowing darkness to fall between us.

Shadows danced across her face. Her wet cheeks glistened in the slight candlelight and her lips shook. Her brow creased with confusion, and the pain she had never allowed me to see finally surfaced.

Only then, I didn't have the strength or desire to interpret the meaning. I turned away to ascend the stairs, the path dimly lit by the steady candlelight. Bella followed, grasping onto the back of my shirt with both hands. The light at the top of the steps had retracted, barely clinging to the wall of the staircase, but it ventured into other parts of the house. The den and hall were bathed in the rich golden rays, lighting up the belongings of the dead, and I stood there for a moment, concentrating on the room and its items as if they'd tell me stories of the past.

On a long, dusty table behind the couch, vibrant flowers filled a glass vase, but they were dirty and plastic. Next to the flowers stood two empty glass candle holders, a film of brown hid their sheen. They hadn't been dusted for a long time.

Behind the table, dark stains on the floral-patterned couch appeared to be in bloom. Dust and grime covered every surface. Even the pictures on the fireplace mantel were already beginning to disappear once more under a dirty membrane.

I saw it then, and couldn't believe my complete disregard for the smallest details that I had lived in for a week. This house wasn't looked after with care, and even though it had never been emptied, it was abandoned. What I once thought was a joyous, clean home was a lie, much like the people who had inhabited it.

Bella emerged from behind me. Her shaky breath broke the silence which would be everlasting after today. She was afraid, and I could only speculate that she feared being found out of her shackles, or perhaps she had heard the gunshots and didn't know what she would find in the light.

I knew she knew something was wrong though, when she glanced down the hall into the motherless kitchen. Her eyes were wide, scared. She moved toward the back of the house, where, out the screen-door, she'd find them. She would see what I'd done.

I tapped her shoulder once before she could step away, and when she looked to me, her eyes softened. Where were the words? What could I say? I feared her, then. Only her.

My mouth barely opened as I said, "I never wanted this."

Her lips parted, and there was anguish and tragedy, and all the weariness of a girl who had just lost everything she'd ever known. She turned and walked away, wringing her hands together in front of her as she stepped into the kitchen. She looked right then left. A second later, she disappeared behind the wall, making her way for the screen door.

It's all my fault.

I lingered in the hall, feeling as though I were swept up in a hurricane. I walked through the living room, past the dirty couch and dusty items until I stood in front of the bay window overlooking the front yard. My forehead touched the cold, smooth glass – the one thing, it seems, that was kept immaculate. I could barely stand on my feet. I wanted to rest, to feel relief soak through my body, or to feel nothing at all.

'Nothing' would involve drifting far away from the sun, from life. Not feeling the pang in my heart, or the wind against my body. 'Nothing'was an ideal state to be in.

I tried to hold myself together, even though I was so unbelievably torn apart. My strength wavered. Outside, a calm touched every surface: the trees were still, the leaves on the ground didn't swirl and the white clouds seemed frozen in the cold air. Friendly light filtered through the white curtains, but it was deceiving. Happiness no longer existed, no matter how hard the sun tried to convince me. Time stood still in that moment, and I wished I could somehow reverse it altogether.

Or take it away.

I pushed away from the window and traced Bella's steps.

My movements were stiff, rigid in the persistent cold, but it didn't relieve the raw burn which saturated my muscles. In front of the shack doors, Bella kneeled, her hands together in her lap. That long hair of hers hung over her shoulder and caught in the breeze. I walked past her. I could see her body shivering and chest alive with rapid intakes of breath. Her hopeless, tired expression reminded me of a grieving child.

I knelt next to Alice. Her skin and parted lips already turning cold shades of gray and purple. I stroked the hair back from her forehead, knowing I wouldn't be able to carry her away from this horrible place. My shoulder throbbed with merciless pain, something I'd be unable to push through while bearing her weight.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, kissing her forehead once more.

Air stole from my chest and I gasped at the sudden desperation I felt. Instead of her familiar scent, copper and stink filled my nose.

My eyes were hot, but the tears turned to ice as they hit my skin. My body was present and aware of every noise, every movement: the freeze of the earth under me, Bella's sobs, the birds laughing in the trees outside, but I was lost in time, disbelief, anger. Why did this happen to me? Everything I've ever loved has been lost.

Across the space, Bella's tears were identical to mine, as she stared blankly at the bodies around her. She caught me staring, but unlike a week ago, I didn't look away. I was unafraid of the punishing look she'd give in return. There was nothing to cause me to falter, but the sight of her grieving for those people pulsed through me, filling me with new anger.

Why did she care about them, these monsters?

They were her parents, but they treated her like shit, yet she still continued to mourn them, running her hand over her mother's bloody hair, like she had meant everything.

They were murderers, yet she cried for them! Had I been a idiot? Was Bella part of their scheme, and the kiss last night in the cellar was nothing more than me playing a fool in her little game? Every thought I had for her, every feeling, was a lie.

I laid my hand over Alice's covered face, saying a silent goodbye as I had no choice except to submit to my wound. I couldn't stay here. Upon my exit, I stopped behind Bella.

"Bella's really good at fishing," Jasper had said. And she shook her head. Almost as though she were embarrassed.

"Don't be so modest, you're an excellent fisher."

I didn't know what caused me to think of that first dinner, but the words repeated in my head over and over again.

I didn't see it then. I didn't look deep enough under their seemingly innocent words, but I understood, now. The truth tore into my already tortured soul until there was nothing left except hatred.

I stood where Renee Swan had fallen. The rounds had torn through her skin with such ferocity, there was barely any shoulder or chest left. My pistol lay in the dirt a few feet away, splattered in her blood. I leaned to pick it up.

Bella still cried over her mother, her hand covering her mouth as her shoulders reverberated with sobs pushing on her chest.

The weight of the icy gun in my hand as I wrapped my finger around the trigger then raised it to the back of Bella's head, stunned me with a sensation I had never felt before. Then, there was a moment of pause followed with the thought that this excellent fisher didn't deserve death. She deserved lifelong misery. Perhaps we both did for what we'd done. Our treason, adultery and lies married well. No matter how beautiful and tragic this creature of silence was, I lowered my weapon. She wouldn't win, no matter how tempting the thought.

Without a second glance, I walked away from that farm and out of Bella's life, not interested in knowing what more she could inflict upon me.

I made my way down the familiar, dormant road as I held my pistol in one hand and my heart in the other. I thought I would stumble to the ground, unable to carry myself to my everlasting rest. Ahead were the woods that would lead to the river, and beyond the river, Vicksburg. However, I wouldn't get that far.

And as I walked, I understood my father for the first time in my life. I knew why he wanted death.

Because the pain of living without her was too much to bear.

The pond water sat as still as a pane of glass, reflecting the multicolored trees and blue sky. Consistent chirps filled the forest with a joy I couldn't feel, and I imagined the birds were flitting around overhead in the sunlight. After all, their world hadn't changed. What I wouldn't give to be a bird.

Traces of our camp were left behind: the small hole I'd dug for the fire, the rocks surrounding it, a clearing where the tarp had been, Alice's make-shift net she used to catch minnows. She'd left it behind in a rush to catch up to me.

I grinned, still remembering the look on her face when she showed me the fish she'd caught. It was the last place she was truly happy. That was until I dragged her away in search of a girl who wasn't even injured. Until Bella caught me in her own net.

I was a fish, she my fisherman and I hated myself. I hated her and the feeling of being lost, of having no hope. I was in a world which no longer wanted or needed me.

But I didn't have to go on anymore. I didn't have to fight or worry about food and water or shelter when it rained. I no longer had to fill my empty diet with death.

Finally, after years of wandering and fighting, I could be at peace. It was just me, and I expected nothing of myself anymore. I lowered myself next to the water and stared at the tree-lined bank across the motionless elements. My pants soaked up the moisture from the dirt and grass, freezing my skin underneath as I scraped the cold, dull barrel against my temple.

Alice had trusted me once. I wondered how often the thought that I'd come for her, that I'd save her, passed through her head while she hung upside down.

How many times did she tell herself I'd come in at any moment and find them taking her while she was pinned down?

My stomach turned.

How many times did that thought comfort her? How many goddamn times, Edward? How many fucking times did she tell herself you'd be in there any moment to kill them and take her away from that place? You were sleeping.

When did she lose the hope she'd always kept so close to her heart?

If I hadn't been an idiot and followed Bella. If I had only seen what was truly there.

"You should've known better," I whispered.

I should've known not to trust those people, not to leave Alice alone with them. If I had only listened to her that day. That last day here in the woods.

I could still recall waking from my haze and venturing to the water. Her boldness of removing her clothes fought the innocent smiles she gave, and my thoughts left me stranded as they explored the details of her skin; it had been so dirty, but with one stroke the dirt cleared and she became pale once more.

Now, the grime was below the skin, where water couldn't reach. The bruises would never be washed away. She was no longer pale, but purple. Now, there was blood in her hair, on her skin... on me.

The last that I would ever see of her stained my hands, crusting and chipping away if I balled up my fist tight enough. It couldn't cling to me. It wasn't part of me, though I somehow wished it could have been so I could carry her with me to wherever I was going next.

I couldn't stand it. I couldn't stand sitting alone at that water, knowing her death was my doing. I screamed in revulsion, taking aim at the tree tops across the pond and fired two shots. The vibration rattled my arm and the explosions filled the space around me. Birds escaped from the branches in a black cloud and dispersed across the blue overhead, but it was all a blur.

She'd hung from that beam bloodied and hopeless. I had failed her. Any trust she had for me had faded, even after I entered those shack doors.

I inhaled with a sob, parting my lips to admit the shocking metal of the cold barrel. The roof of my mouth stung the further I pushed. I could taste the bitter soot from the gunpowder and felt the heat escape into my throat as I found the exact spot the barrel needed to be. Eyes hot and wet, I said goodbye to everything around me: the sun, the trees, the sounds of life, as I readied to squeeze the trigger. I'd thought about this moment many times before.

Do I really want this?

Yes. It's easier this way. It's too late to go back. One bullet left. Finish it. You don't deserve life. You're worthless.

Rustling, fast footfall trotted through the forest behind me, and I pulled the gun from my mouth and pointed to the direction where it came; a reaction.

It was her, and when she saw me and the gun pointed at her head, she stopped. Her face was creased with worry, lips parted with heaving breaths. She'd been running. When our eyes met, I exploded with pain, not knowing I could hurt more than I already did. I blinked, and felt a tickle slide down the side of my cheek.

My lips welded together in a scowl and I tightened my grip on the gun, rising from the forest floor.

My body was heavy, ready to finally rest, but I waited for her to push me over the edge. I was strong enough to stand. I couldn't show my weakness. She was more than I thought her to be.

"I never thought I'd kill a woman," I said, teeth clenched as I stepped toward her. "I never even entertained the idea, let alone wanting to do it more than once in a single day, but I'm tempted."

She shuffled at my words, the lines on her face turned into confusion. Did she understand my intention? Did she see the violent thoughts slide across my face?

"So, give me one good reason not to kill you, Bella." My voice cracked as I pushed her to answer me, to speak words. "Hm? Tell me."

She said nothing!

With two strides I closed the distance between us, introducing the barrel of my gun to the pale skin of her forehead. "Cat got your tongue?"

She shook her head and her lips moved with a mumble, as if trying to find a voice within herself.

Why was she doing this? Why was she here after what she did? She betrayed me! Yesterday meant nothing to her!

"What do you want?" I screamed at her, wanting to fall to the ground in agony. "What more could you possibly want from me? Have I not given enough?"

Tears streamed from her eyes, then. "Don't," she whispered, wrapping her arms around her torso.

"Oh, don't?" The idea was laughable. "Don't? Answer me this: how long did you know about us? Were you watching, waiting for the right moment?"

She shook her head violently, panicked.

"Then why were you there?" The question echoed through the trees and across the water. My arm wavered, exhausted, but I righted it, keeping the barrel against her skin. I couldn't remember the precise moment I became so incredibly angry at her. When she didn't answer me I asked once more, "Why were you there?" I spoke slower, harsher, deeper as though it would convince her to respond.

She doubled over with a sob, dropping to the ground as though yielding. My weapon followed. Her hands disappeared in the foliage as she held herself up. Her gaze climbed the barrel of my pistol, eyes alive and glistening before tears plummeted from her bottom lid. "I didn't know you were here," she finally said with a stutter. The words barely stood above a whisper against the morning life of the forest.

Such a simple declaration should've meant nothing to me. She should've meant nothing, but that moment tore me in two. I wanted to apologize. I wanted to kill her. I wanted to hold her. I wanted her to walk away and leave me alone forever.

"Jasper was right about one thing," I said, disappointed in myself for not seeing it sooner. "You're a great fisher, Bella. I'll give you that."

She shook her head. "Please," she sobbed. "Please don't."

Aggravated, I answered, "Don't what?"

"Don't... leave me."

With jaw clenched and eyes closed, I drifted from that forest and into another time, another brief conversation. Memories invaded, but they were mere glimpses of concrete, ash and sky. It faded with time, but the apparition of weight and the feeling of being trapped still consumed me. I'd said those words before as I'd reached for an arm next to me, it's owner buried like me. Don't leave me! I'd screamed through the dust settling in my lungs. Stay with me!

A tremor fluttered through my ears as I shook my head, and finally gave to gravity.

The cool of the dirt at my knees seeping through my clothes rivaled the burn behind my lids. A chill soaked my tired bones which not even the sun could take away.

"I have no reason to stay. My purpose died with her, and it's all your fault."

No. She's dead because of me. It's all my fault for following. "If you hadn't come down to the woods... if I hadn't followed you." I was so incredibly dizzy with thoughts of Bella running away from me that day, flying through like bullets. My eyes were heavy. I only wanted to rest, to stop. "You shouldn't have been here. You should have left us alone. We were fine."

"I didn't know," she repeated. "I ran. I was scared."

"And I followed, just like you planned."

"No. I didn't. It was an accident."

It couldn't have been. There was blood on her. A lure. "Then what about the blood, Bella?"

Confusion swept her face. "Blood?"

"The blood on the front of your dress when I saw you here; the dress you wore yesterday. I suppose that was an accident, too?"

She looked down, and even though there were no smears of blood on her clothes, she appeared as though she were concentrating on the stain. "It was from the bear. Jasper wiped it on me."

Her tired, brown eyes were on mine again.

"So Jasper knew, and he sent you to bait us?"

She shook her head. Her voice still faltered and she spoke slowly, but the more she said, the more steady it became. It was evident she hadn't spoken in some time by the speed which she relayed her words, but it was indiscernible how long she'd been silent. "No. I came to get water. I don't know what he knew. I never heard him say anything about people here. I hated him, never wanted to be around him more than I had to."

The gun had grown increasingly limp between my fingers. Tears fell, and my breaths were erratic between each word I spoke. "You expect me to believe our meeting was by chance? Do you think I really believe that?"

But, I didn't know what to believe. Perhaps she was telling the truth, or maybe her lure was her innocence. Her brow creased and she rubbed her palms against her legs. The specks of dirt that clung to her skin smeared onto her faded jeans in stains of brown and black, and she sat upright, tucking her legs underneath her, away from me, but she never shied from my harsh gaze.

Once again, like the first time I introduced myself, I couldn't read Bella Swan. All at once she took on the form of a frightened child, yet a strong woman. I felt sorry for her, but then had no pity. My confusion waned and my resolve settled. Either way, she would live. I was done taking life. The only exception was my own.

I found strength in my legs and stood, sheathing the gun at my side. I'd wait until she was gone to use it for the final time. "Go home, Bella. Go home where it's safe."

She sniffled. "Home? Safe? I can't go home."

"Well, you can't stay here."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Wh―what will you do?"

"There's nothing left for me here," I said, and turned away from her as she lifted herself from the ground, wiping away her tears.

I didn't expect her touch, but it was there on my uninjured shoulder, willing me to look at her, to meet her halfway as she stepped around me. "I'm here," she whispered. "You have me."

The morning unexpectedly burned my eyes, bringing my heavy lids down to shut the world away. The dark descended on me, and we were in the cellar once more. "We had a moment." And she saw us."A moment I will never forgive myself for. That's all."

I moved away from her. I wished she would leave. "I can't go back to that house," I said, speaking louder so she could hear me as I distanced myself. "They killed my family."

"And you killed mine," she said with a harsh clarity

I stopped. Turned.

Her furious eyes were full of welling tears, and her hands were balled into fists. Hatred, anger and sadness lingered on every word she said. She spoke louder, but she continued to trip over her words, as though they were the last things holding her to the Earth. "And you want to die, now? Then you leave me here to die, too? What if I don't choose that? What if I want to live?"

"You'll live."

"For how long? How long until people take my house? How long will they allow me to live? It's almost happened before. It'll happen again!"

"I can't do it anymore! I'm tired! Don't you understand how long I've been running? Fighting? Starving? I want it to be over!" I was in her face once more, screaming my protests. Maybe I should've shot her and got it over with.

"You're not the only one who's been fighting! I've fought every day since Jasper arrived! Every day! He turned my mother against me! Told her he'd take care of her and my dad when they got older if he could stay. Then told her lies about me and my father!" A fierce shiver shook her body, as though extinguishing her words.

"You and your father?" I asked. It was a sick curiosity.

She stepped toward me again, wringing her hands in front of her. She was gentle once more as she said, "They weren't true. You must believe me." She began to roll the hem of my shirt between her fingers, like she'd done before in the cellar.

I gathered the material back from her grasp and took a step back. "Why would she believe him? Didn't Charlie speak up?"

Her eyes lowered and she shook her head. "He said it wasn't true, but she said she knew why he did it. I was young and pretty... " I imagined she wanted to push the memory far from her mind, but it clung to her. "She forgave him, but not me. Said God wasn't forgiving to the Devil's whores."

The Devil's whore? I had thought I imagined the looks Renee would give to Bella when Charlie drew near to her. I had never seen him touch her affectionately, other than when we had first arrived, far from Renee's sight. Did she really believe her daughter, her own flesh and blood, seduced her husband? It was disgusting, but it explained Renee's curious behavior toward Bella.

"She believed Jasper," I murmured. "Over you."

"Because she loved him more than me. She always wanted a son, not me. She told me that everyday." She paused, taking in a breath. "I just wanted her to be proud of me for something."

She'd never get that chance.

"And Charlie?"

"I don't know how he felt," she said. "There were moments when I thought he loved me, but... " It was more than the wind that caused Bella to hug herself, to shield her body from the world in that moment. "But there were other times... at night... when he ignored my screams while Jasper..."

Her throat closed around her words. I could only speculate what memories emerged from the back of her mind. I didn't ask her to explain. I knew what she was trying to convey. Rape.

I straightened my back. I'd long forgotten about the fire that burned my shoulder, eager to will it away, but pain never strays too far, especially when the cause is a bullet.

I simply stated, "You seemed to have stopped fighting, Bella. You stopped fighting when you failed to mention your family ate people."

"My silence kept me safe when nothing else did. It's how I survived."

Moments passed as my time with her circled my head, knowing her words held truth. She was beaten, soiled, frightened and I knew I hadn't imagined that.

"But I'm tired of surviving," I finally said with a sigh, not forgetting her reason for finding me and keeping me from the ending I wanted. "I have no reason to carry on."

"I can be your reason."

"You simply cannot replace one person's life for another. Not in my world."

"I don't want to replace anybody. I could never be Alice!"

"Then what is it that you want from me? What do you expect? You want me to protect you? Help around the farm? Carry on like none of this ever happened and live happily ever after? I felt sorry for you, Bella. I felt sorry for you because I thought you were being taken advantage of because you couldn't speak.

"And now, after all that's happened, you've got a lot to say? How can I trust you when you've done nothing but mislead me?"

"I never had a choice! I've been scared of them, of you, but that's changed. I'm not afraid of you anymore. You're different. I thought you knew that yesterday."

"I'm not different," I said, recalling the darker edges of my past, when life and death was a strategy, not a thought. "I've killed more men than I care to count. I've killed men because someone I never even met told me to." I smiled, but it wasn't from humor. It was disgust and tragedy. "I'm not different."

"You are," she pleaded. "The way Alice spoke of you"―my heart leapt at her name―"while she helped my mom. She said you were always trying to protect her, always putting her before yourself. Nobody's like that anymore."

"You're right," I shrugged, noting my selfishness, "they're not."

"You would leave me to the world?"

Would I leave her to the world? Just this morning I had wanted to take her with me, to protect her from everything, everyone. And now, I'd leave her vulnerable, knowing she'd be found by opportunists and taken as spoils? They'd hurt her, or kill her. And I would just leave her to the world?" I just... don't see how this would work between us."

"Can't you at least try? Stay for a while, and if it's not working out then you can leave. I'll answer all your questions. Tell you everything. Please, Edward," she pleaded. "Please don't leave me."

No, I couldn't leave her. I was responsible for her endangerment this time. I had killed the only protection she had: her family, no matter how crazy they were. If I left―if I died―she would die, and my heart wouldn't allow that guilt to pass through with ease, not when I felt something for that girl during our time together; not when the taste of her lips still lingered on my mind. Goddammit. I'd never find the peace I so anxiously wanted, but perhaps I wasn't meant to feel peace.

Maybe warriors do not feel the things that the people they protect feel. It's not in our cards, but I knew I'd continue to suffer so she would never have to again. That was my purpose.

I met her dark gaze once more, collecting the despair she felt as she waited for my response.

I felt the Earth shift and come to life as though shaking off the falling winter. A warmth fingered its way across my skin as I huffed a small sigh, lifting the corner of my mouth to give her the slightest smile.

Maybe the world, and this woman, still had use for me after all.

I Wonder As I Wander by David Nevue