Chapter Fifteen: Panic

Disclaimer: According to international copyright law, Stephenie Meyer is officially the only person allowed to use the characters. In practice, she doesn't really seem to mind too much about us borrowing them. Besides, if it weren't for fanfiction, Midnight Sun would never have been (partially) written. Despite this, if we don't acknowledge her ownership, Stephenie might get a little annoyed, so here it is; Stephenie Meyer owns all of the characters you see here. Except Cottontail. The rabbit belongs to Beatrix Potter.

BPOV

Like every morning, I woke early to Cottontail nibbling on my ear. And, like every morning I sighed deeply. I no longer had the heart to draw in the mornings. It had been two whole years since the Cullens had visited. I missed them all terribly – especially Edward. It now seemed that my infatuation had not been temporary. I was currently thirteen, to all intents and purposes, but I was no less in love with Edward than the year before.

I sat up and stroked Cottontail fondly, wondering vaguely when the Cullens would visit again. Time probably didn't seem nearly so long to them. I considered faking an illness to force they're return, but discarded it quickly. I'd never been physically ill in my life, I doubted my parents would believe me if I tried it. Sighing, I swung my legs out of bed – and screamed.

There was no need to fake. I did need medical attention.

Sulpicia POV

I paced the floor of the chamber obsessively. I was in a foul mood. Over a day. My treasure had locked herself away in her room for over a day. We had called the Cullens urgently, her sobs were clearly audible and the smell of blood crept past the doorway. Something was very wrong, and that frightened me. If she was sick, or hurt, if something happened to her, if we were to lose her....that was not acceptable.

The Cullens had taken 40 hours to get here. An impressive feat, but not quick enough. My Bella was in trouble.

But now, even now that they were here it was to no avail. She wouldn't allow Carlisle through the door either. This was bad this was very bad.

The sound of footsteps racing up the stairs distracted me, followed by a knock on my door. I opened it quickly, hopefully.

Beyond was one of the guard. He wore a medium dark gray cloak, not one of the highest ranked, but not so lowly as to be unacceptable to my presence. Eleazar, his name was.

'My lady, ' he began. 'your daughter...'

'Yes? Has she come out? Has she let anyone in?'

He grimaced, 'No my lady, but she has offered a compromise. She says that she would be prepared to allow entrance to Rosalie and Alice Cullen...' he broke off as my mouth pressed into a hard line. Jealousy burned a whole in the pit of my stomach. My daughter was suffering, but it was not I she asked for. No, it was the Cullen children.

I tried to remain rational, reminding myself of the blood, that she was probably afraid. To no avail, of course. She was mine, any attachment she felt to others was unacceptable.

Still, her suffering had to end.

I sighed in defeat and nodded, waving my hand to dismiss the guard.

BPOV

I was scared. I was more scared than I had ever been in my life. There was something very wrong with me, and I couldn't ask anyone for help. Not my Mamma, not Padre.

It was too dangerous, they had little control at the best of times – I'd heard the screaming. Suddenly my family was the greatest threat posed to my life, and that was hard to get my head around.

They were scared too, I could tell. They called Carlisle, hoping he could help, but when he asked to come in, I couldn't allow that either. The reason this time was different, pure mortification held me back.

I sobbed into my knees, I was going to die, I was sure of it. I knew who I wanted to come, but I was an idiot if I didn't think there would be serious repercussions in asking Esme for help. My family was all too happy to kill to get things to go there way, I knew what had happened to my Aunt Didyme, even if my Uncle Marcus didn't. This thought made the tears fall even faster, I didn't want to die.

In desperation, I thought that maybe Mamma's spite would be tempered enough by her gratitude that it might be safe to ask for someone else. Not Esme, that would be going too far, but maybe someone else. Two someone elses.

Sulpicia POV

Two days had now passed since my treasure locked herself away from me. Two days that seemed longer than a millennium. I opened the door once more, and four people filed in, followed by four of the guard. My husband wrapped his arms tenderly about me, while Carlisle and his daughters stood against the opposite wall.

'Well?' I hissed impatiently.

'Well, ' the small, spiky one seemed very awkward.

'Well indeed,' agreed her sister.

I hissed.

The spiky girl took a deep breath and pulled at her fingers, getting ready to tell whatever it was which made them so uncomfortable. Fear, would have been acceptable. Worry would have been acceptable. But awkwardness?

'Well....it would...it would appear that...that...'

'That Bella has begun to menstruate' the blond finished.

My jaw dropped.

BPOV

A few hours ago I thought I was going to die. Was terrified even. That was almost laughable. I wanted to die. This was much, much worse than death. I had been forced to sit with not only both my mother and aunt, but also the human receptionist – she being the only person in the castle to have experienced this any time in the last decade – and have The Talk. It was mortifying. If it were possible to die of embarrassment, I would have done so by now – and that would certainly be preferable to living right now. It might not have been so bad if I'd known what was going on before hand, but thanks to my little panic attack, not only did I have to put up with all of these new complications, I had to deal with everyone in the castle knowing abut it.

I'm serious. What exactly had I done to deserve this?

I tried to comfort myself, reminded myself that at least the Cullens were back now. At least I got to see them. But it really wasn't working. They hadn't stayed long last time, and the reason for that hadn't changed, never would change. I had to face facts, I would be lucky if I saw the Cullens for a single week out of every few years, for the rest of my existence. Probably, it would be less than that. Maybe one week per decade. And that hurt. A lot.

More than my current embarrassment. More than it had hurt to miss them for the last two years. Worst of all, there was nothing I could do about it.

A/N: So, who guessed what was going on in this chapter? Probably all of you, *shrugs*, its one of those things that just had to be included.

With regards to arrival time, here's my logic. Its about five thousand miles from Alaska to Italy, the aircraft they were most likely to have used was the Douglas DC – 3. It goes at a maximum of 237 miles per hour, with a cruise speed of 150 (but these are the Cullens, so we'll go with the maximum). Its range is about 1000 miles. So thats about 25 hours airtime if they bunny hop. The next 15 hours are for getting to the plane, refuelling and going from the airport to Volterra.