June 11, 1968

I dropped my hands to my sides for the third time that morning. I was frustrated—and humiliated. "I can't do this."

"You can," Edward said encouragingly. He and Eleazar were standing a distance away from me, observing my struggles. Between us stood a crude, humanish figure made of sticks and leaves. I was supposed to be focusing on it, summoning the light from my fingers. It was not going well.

We—me, Edward, Eleazar, and Kate—were trying to practice my power. If I practiced, I could utilize it more and defend myself, even in the future. Well, that was the plan. It was a slow going process. The first and only time it worked as in 1956. James died under my touch, beginning a chain of events that was still unraveling today.

"This hasn't worked in twelve years," I complained.

"Twelve years ago, you were five."

"You know what I mean," I grumbled, tugging the brim of my hat over my forehead self-consciously. Esme had kindly knitted it for me. It was summer in Alaska, but I was still chilly.

Kate rose from her seat on the deck. She had been observing silently since we started. "Maybe you need some motivation."

I liked Kate. When my initial shyness around the coven had dissipated, I tried getting to know them. Everyone except Irina. She avoided me as much as I avoided her. And, to my relief, Tanya seemed to have gotten over her crush on Edward. He whispered to me privately that the shower episode between us told her everything she needed to know.

I still couldn't look her in the eye, but a small part of me was satisfied with that, and I held no more ill will.

"How so?"

Kate landed gracefully at Edward's side. "Our gifts are pretty similar. We both have an internal ignition source triggered by responses. When I was first learning how to use it, I was defending my sisters."

Her gift was remarkable. Like me, she had defensive power. While mine was very visual—bright, white light—Kate's ability was hidden within her own body. But when she touched someone else while powered up, they experienced somewhat of an electric shock.

"So you want to use it on me," I finished. To my surprise, she shook her head.

"I tried that already," Kate said, ignoring Edward's glare. "I'm thinking your husband will be motivation enough."

She didn't give me the choice. My heart twisted anxiously as I watched her place a hand on his shoulder.

Edward's eyes immediately squeezed shut. He gasped; I flinched from my position. I had never really seen Edward in physical pain. He'd been hurt emotionally . . . but it was nothing like this. The tendons were standing out in his neck, and his hands were in fists at his sides.

I wanted to get between them to take that pain for myself. All I wanted was to wrap my arms around him to shield him from harm.

Kate removed her hand, freeing Edward, and stood looking at the stick figure expectantly.

Nothing happened.

I bounced on my tiptoes, thrumming with frustration. The rest of the family came outside to watch.

Great. An audience to my failure.

"Try again," I said finally. "I'm ready."

I put my hand out in front of me, focusing on Edward's face. He was trying hard not to wince. Kate seemed to be raising the stakes. A small noise of discomfort escaped his lips.

My arm started shaking. I watched in astonishment as light fizzled from my palm. It flickered and died, but it was there. The first surge of power since 1956.

"See?" Kate said approvingly. "Now, let's go again."

I studied Edward as she prepared for the next round. How many times had he seen me in pain, unable to protect me? How helpless did he feel? How useless did his strength seem, when I was frozen or broken or scared?

I channeled everything into my outstretched hand—the fury at my condition, the fear I held for him, the agony over Elliot, even the latent terror from my encounter with James. Everything that swirled under the surface of my skin exploded. White light shot out of my hand. I aimed it at the stick figure with an odd sense of calm.

When the light touched the wood, it burst into flame. I remembered James writhing on the ground, his screams echoing in my ears. The old pitiless fury came surging back. Emmett gave a whoop of delight from the house. I felt my lips curve up into a cold smile.

I stood still for a long moment, watching the figure burn. The light faded away from my hand, but the fire continued to grow. The figure was collapsing under the heat.

"You did it, love," Edward whispered in my ear, his arms around my waist. The fury fizzled and spiraled back toward that strange calm. Edward was okay now. I could relax.

"I did," I said, dazed. I couldn't believe it.

Kate joined us on the safe side of the burning figure. Her smile was wide—even proud. "It's a start, Bella."

Eleazar sat with me and Edward for dinner that night. He spent most of the day mulling over my gift, pondering what he saw. Edward told me even he couldn't keep up with Eleazar's train of thought during the day, as it jumped from possibility to possibility. Finally, around suppertime, his observations from this morning led him to put a tentative name on my gift.

"Photokinesis," Eleazar said, folding his arms. "Though . . . that's not quite it. It seems unstable."

"Photokinesis is the ability to create and manipulate light," Edward explained, catching my puzzled look. "But it's not quite the same as what you do."

"Is there a . . . time-kinesis?" I asked. "And the light is just a product of that?"

"Perhaps," Eleazar said. "But I'm going to simplify it and say shield."

Shield. I frowned. It seemed like too simple a word to encompass everything I was capable of. Abruptly, Elliot's words came back to me.

"Who better to guard the coast than someone who can see what happens next?"

"Interesting," Edward mused, toying with my left hand. I speared a piece of chicken with my other hand, considering what we just learned.

A shield promised a defense. Protection. It was exactly what I always wanted—the ability to protect myself and those I loved. And judging from the vampiric abilities in these covens, my power would grow to astronomical heights. Perhaps one day I could project the light in a larger way.

I wondered if the time travel would continue after the change. I had said no before, but now . . . I glanced at Edward, then back to my food. Even if that were to happen, I would be better equipped to defend myself.

"So what's going on at home?"

We were sprawled side by side in front of the fire. It was a packed house tonight; people flitted in and out of rooms, looking for stuff to do. I watched Alice and Jasper waltzing in the corner for a moment.

"I'm starting a new school," I said vaguely. I was petrified of divulging too much information, even to him. Elliot said he couldn't fight his fate . . . I didn't want to wrestle with mine. I always seemed to land near him when I time traveled, regardless of the decade. Perhaps one day he'd be waiting for me in 2005.

He coiled a strand of my hair around his finger. "You seem anxious. Aren't you a master at new schools by now?"

"I just don't want to mess it up."

But it was more than that. I didn't want to mess with Charlie's life. Renee had Phil to help her clean up the situations I left behind. Forks, however, was a small town. When I first thought of moving, the idea was that it was spread out enough to insure some privacy. Not true. Should I vanish from school or a public place, my dad might have some serious explaining to do.

"You won't."

"I could."

"But you won't."

"You could come dance with us," Alice interrupted, pulling me to my feet. I stumbled toward her. Despite the few inches I had on Alice, she took the lead and spun me around the room. I heard myself laugh.

"Alice!"

She grinned and twirled me to Jasper. I watched Edward take her arm and they danced with the grace and ease of professionals. I turned back to Jasper and sighed.

"Sorry you're stuck with the klutz."

He lifted me like Edward always did, so my feet stood on his own. From there it was easy. We spun as smoothly as they did. His subtle positive waves also helped immensely.

Soon the others joined us. Carlisle and Esme, Emmett and Rosalie, Carmen and Eleazar. Even Kate and Tanya, laughing as they twirled, joined in the fun. Only Irina sat alone watching by the fireplace. I could help but feel a little sorry for her.

When they got bored of dancing perfectly, I became the novelty dance partner. I went from vampire to vampire spinning helplessly in a bizarre game of keepaway. Finally, after several minutes bereft of him, Carlisle spun me toward Edward.

"Oh my God," someone gasped, but I was still turning. The room became a colorful blur.

The final twirl sent me into Charlie's couch, knocking the wind out of me.

Only ten minutes had passed in my absence. Charlie wasn't home yet.

Rattled, I took a deep breath. The old grandfather clock, marked with my heights over the years, began to chime eleven o'clock. I turned to watch, but hurtled backwards—

I landed in what looked like an office. I had scattered the contents of the desk to the ground, and in the mess of papers, I found myself looking at a newspaper. The Watergate scandal was splashed across the front page. More years had passed in my absence. I was in the 1970s now.

The door burst open to reveal Emmett and Rosalie. They shared dual expressions of delight—and fear. I tried to rise, but doubled over in a sudden bout of pain.

I closed my eyes and moaned. I heard them call my name, but when my eyes snapped open, the landscape had changed again.

The first thing I heard was a radio. There was an excited voice announcing John Lennon's new hit, "Woman."

I landed near a clothesline, where the wet laundry was swaying in the breeze. The fresh scent filled my nose. But a greater scent overpowered that, a sweet scent I loved more than anything. I crawled toward the house, toward him—

"Bella!"

His calls were in my ears when I vanished again.

This time I landed in a hospital. I could hear babies crying behind the nearest wall. A bored voice over the PA system called for a doctor on the third floor.

I stifled a whimper. The aching seemed to be originating in my chest. My heart. This was a pain like no other, and a series of trips like none I had ever experienced. They were coming too fast. I lifted my head and realized I knew this place.

I had been here before. I made a least a dozen trips to this moment. From past experience, I knew a nurse was coming around the corner in ten seconds. It took all my energy to hobble to an empty wheelchair and push myself deeper into the maternity ward. Trembling, I rose to my feet, clutching the back of the chair for support.

The baby Isabella was sleeping in the nursery with the other newborns. I peered through the glass as I had done many times before.

Isabella Marie Swan, born September 13, 1987. Six pounds and five ounces. Healthy. Not yet in peril by Time.

I closed my eyes as a fresh trip back took me away.

Too much, I wanted to yell. This is too much!

My trips backward rarely hurt me. This pain was ugly and severe and very unfamiliar. When my back hit the ground, I didn't open my eyes. Someone started yelling.

"Edward, come here!"

Edward.

I opened my eyes to see him leaning over me, his expression tight with worry. He carried me to a couch and laid me there, a hand pressed to my heart. Thud, thud. It seemed like it was slowing down.

"Bella, what's happening?"

"I don't know," I whispered, my arms wrapped around my middle. "I feel like I'm dying."

It was true. I had been thinking it but refused to say the words aloud. What else could this be?

My jumps through time for the past ten years had been leisurely. Comfortable. It felt as normal as any other body function. But now it felt like a hole in my chest. A black hole. I was collapsing in on myself like a dying star. Isn't that what Elliot told me? We die young? Burn out?

"No," Edward shouted, laying his head on my chest. "You can't be."

I wish I had known this was the last time we'd see each other.

I would have taken more care to memorize the way he looked. His beautiful hair, the wide, caring eyes . . . the warmth his hands created despite the chill. I wished I could make love to him one more time. There were tears gathering in my eyes.

I asked my age old question. "What year is it?"

"1995."

The years between my visits were long again, as they were when I first started appearing on their doorstep. The time we had seemed to be cycling toward a natural end, dragging me along with it.

"Bella," he whispered, pleading with me now. "Let me change you. Right here. You won't die. You can stay with me forever."

Rosalie was weeping in the corner. No tears were coming out, but her body was shaking with sobs. I wanted to tell her goodbye too, and how wonderful of a friend she'd been.

But there would be no time for goodbyes. I felt the trip backwards coming this time, hard, like a punch to the gut. A cry of pain escaped me. The light appeared in my palms, arriving to take me back to the future.

A roar filled the room. Emmett and Jasper had taken hold of Edward, pulling him to safety. Away from my fire producing palms. Tears slid down my face, but I couldn't move or brush them away.

I couldn't even say goodbye.

Edward was fighting them with everything he had. I realized that he was screaming.

"No, Bella! Please, take me with you! Bella!"

"Edward, I—"

I opened my eyes to darkness. For a moment, I thought I was dead.

With a long sigh of relief, I realized I landed on Charlie's couch again. This time, the old clock chimed midnight.

Faintly, I heard the cruiser coming up the driveway.

When my dad came through the door, he found me huddled under the blanket. I closed my eyes to feign sleep. I was too weak to make it up to my room. He stood watching me for a long moment before I felt him tuck the blanket tighter around me. He kissed the top of my head, then turned toward the stairs.

When his footsteps upstairs faded, I opened my eyes.

I wasn't dead.

The pain was gone.

I studied my arms and legs. Everything was accounted for. I pulled my shirt up to look at my stomach, but as far as I could see, there was no wound of any kind. Still, I worried about internal wounds. Was I bleeding? How could I know for sure?

It was midnight; I wasn't about to call my mom. I lifted my head cautiously. I was still weak, but I could move. I had to do some research before I drove myself crazy.

I tiptoed up the stairs to my room and booted up the computer. It took an agonizing amount of time to get to Google. I was instantly reminded of my first search on the Cullens. Only Emmett's clue had helped me learn the truth, sending me on a path I never expected.

Brushing tears out of my eyes, I spent the next few hours researching. I definitely had chest pain during these last trips. Dizziness, too. So far I hadn't coughed up blood. But in the grand tradition of the self diagnosis, I spun a web of terrifying possibilities. What if my liver was enlarged? What if I experienced abdominal swelling, or found some bruising?

Finally, at five in the morning, I couldn't wait any longer.

Charlie was snoring when I tiptoed into his room. I shook him awake and explained I wanted to go to the hospital; something felt wrong. He immediately grabbed his keys and ushered me out the door.

The snow plows were just starting their work. Charlie's cruiser struggled through the snowbanks, sliding every so often over ice. My dad kept looking at me. I wondered if he thought I'd throw up. When his gaze flickered back to the road, I tucked my rings in my pocket.

My mom used to tell the funniest stories about my grandmother Marie. Whenever Renee was sick, she would always insist on waiting until the morning to take her to the hospital. Apparently the best doctors came on shift in the morning. When we finally checked in at five-thirty, I thought Grandma Marie would have approved.

We were shown to a room to await testing. Charlie found us some coffee and informed me the best doctor just left. The second best would be along shortly. I snorted.

"Bummer."

We were there for most of the morning. Many of the technicians had to brave the roads to arrive, so my tests took a lot longer than usual. When my prognosis finally came, I couldn't help but throw up my hands.

"There's nothing wrong with me?"

"Other than sleep deprivation . . . no."

Charlie stood to grab my coat. "Sounds like you need to rest, Bella."

"Unbelievable," I murmured as we piled back into the car. After the past several hours of emotional turmoil, there was nothing wrong? Then where was that pain coming from? The agony each time I landed, so much that it rendered me immobile?

My dad looked guilty. "I'm have to go into work again."

"That's okay."

Charlie saw me to the door. "Get some rest, Bell. You've been up all night."

I trudged up to my room and watched him drive off. I crawled into bed with my most comfortable sweats, but sleep didn't come. I realized I had grown accustomed to sleeping with Edward next to me.

I found myself staring at the ceiling. I was alive, but barely.

I was stranded in Forks, alone, and no idea where the Cullens were now.

I never told Edward what year I was from or where I was going. I was overly cautious. Stupid, really. Untrusting. I wondered if I held back because I was really scared of changing the future, or if I didn't trust him enough to be there when I arrived. That I was scared what we had was too perfect, and that it was bound to fail when I returned to my regular life.

My mom always told me Saint Christopher represented travelers. I focused on the memory of that story. If I prayed hard enough, I thought Edward would appear in the window, smiling, his arms open wide.

"Come back to me," I whispered in the dark room.

Suddenly I was the one waiting for him. I put the rings back on my finger and closed my eyes, tears slipping out from under the lids.

A/N: Just so you guys know, I do not take pleasure in writing sad chapters. I literally sat here on my bed crying as I went through this again.

I hope everyone's enjoying the story. It's strange to know it's ending in a couple weeks. I published NOD second overall, but it's my pet project.

*Cries* They grow up so fast! :(