First, I own nothing to do with Twilight.

I want to thank you all so much for your amazing support! I can honestly say, it really drove me to complete this story! I had this ending in my head for a while now- I'm not sure what you'll think. But I wanted to take a dark and foreboding route. I'm not sure if it'll satisfy you or not (probably not). But I hope you all know I love you all, and I'm so enternally humbled by the response I've received! You're all amazing, so thank you all for inspiring me the way you did!

Feel free to hate me. Everything (freedom of speech) is entirely welcome.

Thank you all so much, I love you all! x

Fever. Burning. Everything, my bones, my body... was burning. Bleeding. I couldn't imagine anything else comparable to the pain I was feeling then. Not even broken bones, or being shot, or stabbed with a sharp knife.

Oh God, please don't let me die.

Edward don't let me die. Please.

At least, let me see Charlie first. Just let me have my wish of seeing Charlie first, before I die. I wanted him to be happy, and to know he was safe, before my end.

Please oh please Edward. I don't want to die. I didn't feel ready to die yet.

Still so much to do. So much to... say.

EPOV:

It all happened unexpectedly. I'd never done it before, I wasn't even certain if it was supposed to go this way at all.

I couldn't remember the way it went, even for myself. Perhaps that is what happened when we switched lives? Carlisle, my father, never enlightened me on such truths. He never told me much, in fact. Like what happened to the human body while the change took place. I couldn't remember how it felt to change, no less. But I could experience it, and see it firsthand with my eyes myself, with her.

I thought it would be more better for her, to experience the change on the hotel bed. I didn't want her uncomfortable in anyway, so I propped up some pillows, gathered her up in my arms- where she felt far too sticky with blood, and sweaty- and placed her carefully onto the bed with her head positioned upright on the pillow.

She started screaming and muttering words in a low, hoarse voice then, much unlike her usual voice. "Please, you have to get me to a doctor right this instance. I'm... everything... it's burning."

Of course, I couldn't actually take her to a doctor. What on earth would they possibly think? No doubt, her case would be unlike anything they had ever witnessed before. I tried to calm her down a bit, I told her, the worst will be over in forty-eight hours (I was only guessing, of course). She lay there on the bed quietly for a little while, twitching, she was sweating so badly her whole face was glistening and her hair stuck matted to her forehead. Never had anything looked so painful, I felt almost as if I was undergoing the transformation along with her. She started crying, her mouth twisted in anguish, only it wasn't the regular crying I had heard from her before. More like silent tears, that ran down her blistering cheeks, glossing over her eyes.

Soon, she started twitching again compulsively, so I tried to hold her down. It was no good. It got her crying again, but loudly this time around.

"Charlie," she started breathing out. "Please." Her breaths came out quick and fast, like she had only just finished a six-meter marathon.

"What of Charlie?" I asked, thinking I'd misunderstood her. I couldn't quite understand what she was saying through all the heavy breathing.

"Charlie... I need to..." And she kept on like that, for nearly over half an hour. Calling her father's name, and insisting that she needed to do something. Wasn't quite sure what, though.

"What will you do if I die?" she asked, a while later. She would calm down marginally, then start all over again.

"You're not going to die," I hushed her. "Don't be ridiculous."

"But I feel like I am," she insisted breathlessly. "I know I am. I feel like... I feel like death."

So much as the thought of her even dying frightened me. I really didn't want to talk about it. "Let's just talk about something else, all right?" I tried, but she wouldn't give up that easily.

"I'm dying!"

"No, you're not." Not in that way, anyhow.

"Would this all be over? Would you be able to move on then, if your mate died?"

"Probably not, if you died I would most likely soon follow. You're not dying anyway."

"Would you go on to find someone else?"

"Don't be ridiculous," I said again. I really wished she would stop talking like that. She was being absurd. "As I explained before, there is no one else for me. There can't be anyone else."

"Then I wish, I wish you would." It took her a while to get that out. She was panting way too rapidly, there were at least over five gaps before she completed the sentence fully.

"Please, let's talk about something else."

"I'm dying!" She kept saying it, over and over. And it probably felt like it, too.

"You'll be back to normal in a day, or so. The pain will subside."

"It won't," she replied, sounding strong on that. "It won't! It won't! Make it stop!"

"Bella, I can't." I almost laughed because, really, what could I do? "I can't do anything to make it stop. You'll just have to live with the pain for a little longer."

"You'll stay with me, until it's over?" She clutched onto my shoulder, as firmly as she could, which wasn't firm at all. Her strength was all gone, her hold was feeble, and weak.

"I will."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise." And I meant it. "I will, of course I will."

Everything was silent for a little while, aside from her little grunts and bed-twitches. And then, later, she said, "It's okay, I forgive you."

I hadn't known what to say then. She was probably too far gone to even comprehend just what she was saying. I hadn't known I had done anything to be forgiven for, though. I was just a man who couldn't stand losing the girl he loved most. Where is the fault in that?

Her breathing had grown very faint, she was quiet with no more pained murmurs, and I assumed then, that the change had finally happened. The worst was over and done with. I felt very sorry for her next early morning, I felt so guilty for all the pain she had endured due to me, all the fear and stressing over whether she was truly dying or not. But it was inevitable with such a transformation, surely she could forgive me and overlook that momentary bit of pain. I sat for a while at the side of the bed, observing her while she lay there, listening to her breathing (which was much too soft, and her heart wasn't beating at all). It was a normal occurence for us, though; Our hearts ceased to work, they remained still. I had only gathered it was much the same for her.

Her face was pallid, and blotchy, and her eyes were wide open. She was staring off vacantly at the hotel room ceiling, but even then I assumed everything was right as rain. She had old dried blood smeared over her nightgown and on her patchy skin (I had bitten her several times, just to be certain I was doing it right as a precaution; Neck, wrist. The soft fleshy part of her left breast, her thigh). She looked hot in her nightgown- which I also presumed was usual, as the change happened- so when I rolled her carefully onto her side to attempt to peel it off her skin, she was stiff and limp as anything. When I lifted up each of her arms to pull off the sleeves, her arms felt heavy. When I looked her over without the nightgown on once I managed to extricate it fully off her body, I felt unbearably bad for her, because clearly I had went overboard in biting her to spread the venom into her system. There was dried blood everywhere on her, it was an awful mess.

I supposed I ought to have been more gentle, more careful with her. But my emotions had well and truly overtaken me that night; I was angry over everything, her lies, her pretense on wanting to marry me, and the ludicrous precondition she had invented. One could hardly blame me for being a little too eager.

I gathered some toilet-paper, rolled it around my hand, and dampened it with cold water. I decided to clean her up a bit, so I took the job very seriously and attentively so that I wouldn't hurt her any further. I dabbed at the bites, wiped them clean of the day-old blood, but viewing the imprinted teeth marks that were my own didn't settle with me so well. I was praying she would heal very soon so it wouldn't be something else she could find to incriminate me with. Along with the bites, there was a horrible amount of bruises; Purple, blue, yellows. I just couldn't stop feeling sorry for her, it had me in a good, old foul and depressed mood over what I had put her through without much ounce of thought beforehand.

After about six in the morning, the sun was seeping through the curtains, and I opened up a window and let some fresh air in. Then, I decided to go out for a much-needed cigarette while I waited. My body was running on high, all tense and strung-out for the moment she awakened. I was feeling incredibly nervous, I couldn't deny it. Or hide it, no less. Several people who had stayed over at the hotel the night before, were leaving early and packing their things into their cars. One of them, a young woman, stared at me while I smoked, and I couldn't help paranoidly wondering whether she had heard all the fuss Bella made the night before. Her looking at me got me all hot and bothered, though. No doubt, I looked guilty, as if I had done something wrong the night before.

When I got back inside the room, I made sure I relocked the door. With the dim morning sunlight hitting Bella's skin the way it was, it made her appear all the more ghastly in physical appearance. Suddenly, there was a lot more white to her skin than I had first noticed, a lot more yellow and purple. I couldn't hear her breathing at all. Not to mention the familiarity of her thumping heart any longer.

All to be expected, certainly.

I sat by her, I slipped up onto the bed along with her body, and sat real close. It was all so hauntingly tragic, the way she looked. She no longer looked like that bright and carefree girl I had first met that day, wet in the rain. No, her skin looked particularly dull, her hair limp and lifeless on her scalp. Her eyes were dark shine less, depthless pits that stared off at something side-long. By laying close to her, I think I realized then, that things had definitely taken a turn for the worst. Her mouth was hanging halfway open, her lips chapped and dry, with no color like they previously had been. I used to love her lips; All pink, and girly, and pretty. Only now, they were like somebody else's and not Bella's, all pale and flaky.

I raised a hand to her forehead and I felt her, and she felt surprisingly cold underneath my fingertips. Not at all like somebody who had just underwent the change- though, I was unexperienced, of course. I wasn't quite sure what to expect. Was she meant to look so awful and battered, and feel like a cold, lifeless corpse? It just didn't seem right at all.

I got to thinking then, maybe I had bitten her too much? I had bitten her roughly around eight or nine times (at the time, I couldn't count, because she wouldn't lay still, she was always restless and thrashing about). There had been a lot of blood. On my mouth, on my clothes, everywhere. I had assumed that was normal, though. It was normal, right?

I whispered her name several times, softly, quietly, hoping to get a reaction out of her.

Come back to me, darling. You can come back to me now, please. Oh please.

It never came. When I rolled carefully on top of her, pressed my lips into the shape of hers, still I received no response. When I laid my ear carefully, always carefully, against her breasts, I couldn't hear anything at all. Not a single beat, or a flutter of the heart.

I decided to wait a little longer. Perhaps I was being far too impatient? Perhaps it took a longer measure of time than that?

So, I sat around, and waited. I didn't think I had left her side for no more than two minutes.

When nightfall slipped in again, she was much the same in state as before. No response. Not even when I shook her gently. By that time, I was truly worried. I felt sick inside. My stomach plunged to the floor. It dawned onto me then, when I held my fingers over her lips, and felt no whispered breaths.

She was dead. I had killed her. I had killed her. Dead.

I got on top of her, closed her eyelids down, and pulled her mouth shut. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know how to repair it. Realistically, I couldn't. What's done is done, what's gone is passed.

I had failed. I had failed in what I had initially wanted of her. I had tried so hard to make things right again, in order to keep her, for always and forever. I tried too hard, had held on too strong, and yet my persistance in keeping her has been the very thing that killed her, in the end.

I couldn't believe it. Not so easily, anyhow.

I stared at her, for what seemed years, a lifetime, dumb-founded. For a while there, I had convinced myself it was all a torturous trick. One that God was playing on me. I was God's Fool for the day. How could I have killed her? Surely, I couldn't have. I loved her, I loved her so, so much, I couldn't stand it, half of the time. Why would I kill her? I never wanted that for her. I would never want that for her. Not ever in a thousand years.

It had gone wrong. All terribly wrong. A mistake.

It wasn't meant to happen this way. We were meant to be forever. All the possibilities I had for us, all the experiences and sights we would share together, all that... was crumbled. Destroyed. All due to me.

I watched her as she laid there, in silence. I touched her again, I touched her everywhere, and I still couldn't believe it was true. God was playing a trick on me, somebody had to be playing a cruel and hurtful deceit on me. Her body, everywhere, so cold... so so cold and limp, it never ceased to fail giving me a shock. I couldn't understand it at all; Just nearly twelve hours ago she was talking to me, screaming, and thrashing around, like the change was happening. And now this. Now, she was just lifeless and cold. It didn't make any sense. It was beyond comprehending.

Something so suddenly broke inside of me, something happened, I lost my head. I crawled on top of her, and held her body close, and the frail frame of her sunk it so harshly, it made something crack and break within. Before I knew it, I was shaking from my head to my toes, I was kissing her all over, and telling her not leave me, demanding her to swear on it- certain promises of course she could never hear and return. One moment she was in my arms and in the next, she was replaced by the headboard and there was a loud crash, and then there was even more damage and curtains were torn to shreds off the hooks and the hotel room was just complete and utter turmoil and wreckage, exactly like how I felt inside. All but her.

After a while, the uncontrollable trembling stopped, and I managed to calm myself down. All I had to calm myself was the sight of her, and along with it, I couldn't help but feeling it was the end. I couldn't live without her and yet, it was all my fault, I had done this to her.

As I stared at her, it was then the idea came to me.

All I would have to do, is kill myself now. I can't live without her, I couldn't possibly stand it. What reason is there in life, when the reason is gone? There could be no forever for us any longer. All the dreams I had conjured, all the pleasant ones, were gone and ended. This was the only way. It had to be this way.

It would reminiscent to her favorite book, Romeo & Juliet. Two people, completely and wholly in love, that were destined to never be. The odds were always against them. It would be sheer torture to go on without her. I just had to find a way to the end. Others could think whichever they like, my father. He could judge it the way he wanted, but he couldn't possibly feel disgraced in the fact that I had killed a human.

It was a plan. A definite solution. There wouldn't be any pain over her absence. She would be waiting for me on the other side, ready to greet me with open arms.

A suicide pact for two lovers who weren't destined to ever have their forever.

However, things never quite work out the way you had set your mind onto them happening.

As it turned out, there was a slight variance to the plan.

I laid there with Bella in my arms, on the hotel bed, and I had decided to distract myself for at least a little while with some mindless television. I watched the screen, hardly seeing anything, everything going entirely past me, aside from the feeling of holding Bella in my arms, while she rested, so peaceful, so serene.

I was talking to her, just when oddly enough, an actress flitted across the screen promoting her new television series. It was a complete lightbulb moment. There was a way about her, that reminded me of Bella. She looked the exact same, she could almost be fit to be Bella's twin, and she was extremely popular around the globe for her acting. Her mannerisms, everything, was so utterly Bella. Only she was far more opinionated, and strong. As it was, she didn't touch me in the same way Isabella did, of course, but there was certainly something about her. I was still undecided on following through on my plans of suicide with Bella, but seeing this girl an exact replica of Bella almost made me reconsider. Perhaps it wouldn't be so hard to live a little bit longer, to try forever on this actress perhaps? Perhaps she would be different, even though she was a spitting image of Bella? Besides, I would be far more prepared this time. I had learned well from my experience with Bella; I would reveal my true self first, rather than save the monstrous surprise until later. And, even if it had the same outcome as with Bella, I had learned now what I was truly capable of when I did not get my way.

Suddenly, it appeared I had something else to live for. Just for a little longer, just to test the waters and see.

This will be a fascinating experiment.

EDIT: Thanks for your reviews and feedback. I understand I've probably disappointed you all (I'm adding one more chapter). What I wanted to illustrate was that Edward isn't an innocent person, he has killed a few girls before, is very fickle. As for Bella, is she really dead? I'll just say she's playing dead, she'll come back (maybe not in front of Edward, but...). I apologize if you think it was horrible, I didn't mean for it to seem rushed. I just wanted to go for a different outtake on things. Hopfully next (last) chapter, it will be resolved more to your liking.