So fast the slender lines of her blurred, Alice rushed at me, grabbing me in a fierce and not altogether painless hug.

"Oh Bella! Are you ok?" Her hands slipped down my back, patting my ribs, my waist, my shoulders – as though she were a cop and I a particularly seedy person attempting to sneak past airport security.

"My god you're thin. Have you been eating? Why didn't you eat?" Her words were light and musical, jostling against each other like fighting butterflies. Still gripping my arms she thrust me back, her eyes sweeping me, taking in everything from my still-damp hair to my eyes.

Immediately her eyes narrowed and she turned her head towards Edward so sharply that a human neck would have snapped like old elastic.

"What's wrong with her!?"

Edward had closed the door but other than that he hadn't moved, his face still reflecting that alien glow.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" He sounded tired yet manic at the same time.

Alice looked furious.

"No, it isn't! What's wrong with her?"

"Come on Alice, why else would you be here?"

"Because I saw what you did, idiot!"

Her hands tightened on me and I flinched, not able to help myself.

"But…" He trailed off.

Alice breathed out and her hands loosened slightly.

"Forget it - we'll talk about that later." She turned back to me, her eyes burrowing into mine.

"What's going on Bella, what's happened to you?"

I stared at her wordlessly, then flicked a glance back to Edward. His face was a collage of anguish, anger and that strange glow.

"Bella?" Alice pleaded.

"I just…" My voice was faint. "I don't…"

'Enough!" And then Edward was between us, a tall, beautiful shield between me and Alice's pleas. "Stop it Alice. Just leave her alone."

Alice looked incredulous.

"You're kidding me, right? Leave her alone? Hasn't that done enough damage? And besides – what the hell's she doing here if we should just 'leave her alone'?!"

"Alice…" Edward's face tightened as though gripped by an invisible hand, his voice low, dangerous.

"No, Edward – no! This is madness – sheer madness! I mean, aside from the danger, look at her! Look! Do you really think this is helping?"

His eyes swivelled slowly to mine, the strange light emanating from them raising goose bumps on my skin. And then he whirled away, so fast he was but a smudge from one place to the next.

A beautiful flowered vase exploded from its perch on a side table.

Alice rolled her eyes.

"Men!" she muttered to herself. She turned back to me, but this time she didn't speak, the frustration in her eyes softening.

I looked back at her unable to believe that in the space of just a couple of hours (providing it had only been a couple of hours, I wasn't too sure) I had my two favourite Cullens right there.

She looked exactly the same: tiny, sculpted features, short spiked hair - albeit flattened by the rain - her elfin body fluttering beneath expensive clothes. And yet it was like looking at a beautiful stranger.

Her eyes were wide, full of concern – but there was something else in there too.

Fear?

And then suddenly it was gone and she was reaching out, snagging the ends of my hair between skinny fingers.

"My god you need a haircut!"

I blinked, it was the last thing I'd expected.

"I do?"

"You mean you don't know?" Come here." She grabbed my hand and dragged me across the grey rug, through the adjoining room that was a kitchen and down a hallway to a bathroom.

"There!" She thrust me in front of the mirror. "See? You're like Rapunzel gone feral!"

"Oh…" It was all I could think of to say. The me in the mirror, or rather the face in the mirror, was just awful. Alice was right: my hair was lank, broken and way too long. Plus my skin was so pale it was as though the thousands of tiny blood vessels beneath had given up and sunk to their deaths. Without thinking I brought my fingers up to the glass, feeling the polished ice of the other girl's fingertips.

"Bella?" Alice sounded worried again. I turned from my reflection and looked at her.

The look was back, the twitchy, scared little spark that glittered in her irises.

"Sorry." I muttered.

"Ok, I've had about enough of this – strip!"

"What?"

"You're having a bath." She said turning her back and yanking the taps open on the bathtub.

"No, Alice I –"

"I said strip, Bella!" She snapped, squeezing liquid soap into the stream of water causing bubbles to churn in the bottom like soda.

I was about to protest again, but she turned her head and shot me a look of such venum, such determination, that I knew without question that if I didn't do as I was told, my clothes would not last for another wearing.

"Ok…" I muttered, unzipping my hoodie and pulling it over my head. "Not too hot though."

Alice didn't answer but I saw her small white hand give a vicious flick of the cold tap before getting to her feet.

"I'm going to leave you to it, get you something to eat."

My stomach gave another huge yowl, like a street cat before a big fight.

"You're going to eat and you're going to lie in this tub for a minimum half hour – you got me?"

I unzipped my jeans, knowing it was pointless to reply, and stumbled trying to get a leg out. Quick as a camera flash she was steadying me, her voice gentler than before.

"Careful Bella." She let go and turned towards the door. "Be back in a sec, ok?"

"Ok." I mumbled. But she was already gone.

By the time I got the rest of my clothes off and sunk down into the bubble-coated water, Alice was back bearing a large plate with an even larger sandwich.

"All of it, you got me?" she threatened handing it to me with a menacing scowl.

I nodded, my mouth filling with water.

And then she was gone again.

I didn't waste any time, my eyes closing at the taste of brown bread, roast beef and mustard. When I was finished, I put the plate on the floor and leaned back with a big sigh, the bubbles in front of my face shifting aside like the parting of the Red Sea.

The not-too-hot water combined with my full stomach felt good and I let my mind drift, my eyes playing along the scalloped edges of the ceiling.

This was Edward's house – he had a house. Despite the Cullen's residence, the idea seemed so strange to me. That he would go off and buy his own house, as if somewhere along the way he pictured living alone.

Or with someone.

I examined the thought, let the words tickle my mind. What other explanation could there be? The house was way too small for the whole family, but from what I'd seen, perfect for two.

For a wife…

I opened my mouth, feeling certain that I needed to inhale, exhale - something. I felt a sudden, fleeting awareness; like I was on the verge of understanding something - something critical. The tiny flutter from before was back, but this time I was certain I felt it.

I half-rose out of the tub, my eyes flying to the door, convinced that I was about to call out. My mind hurtled ahead: he would come, of course, appear in the room faster than the words could fade from my throat.

And then what?

I sat there, the warm water trickling down my chest, one hand fastened on the side of the tub intensely aware that something huge was just starting to peek through the mist.

What?

But already it was slipping away, too fine for me to grasp. I clung to my compulsion, my compulsion to call out to him, tried to ignore the awful blankness that swarmed back over me.

I whimpered aloud in frustration, but the sound, when it came out, seemed nothing more than a muted sigh.

And then it was gone: the frustration, the confusion, the compulsion.

Gone.

I slid back down into the water, suddenly tired beyond endurance, unable to think of anything other than the warm depths of the bath and the lingering taste of Alice's sandwich.

*****************************************************************************************************************

"This is going to end very badly, Edward."

The night outside the window was silent, still, but I kept watching, waiting for what I knew would come. Behind me I heard Alice sigh and the soft creak of the couch as she sat down.

"I mean, to just take her like that? It's not like you, Edward. This is not the kind of stuff that you do."

"I couldn't…" I gritted my teeth, my jaw. Cringing over the words - about what they meant about me, about her.

"I couldn't leave her."

Alice sighed again.

"But you did before, Edward. 'For her own good' – remember?"

I turned around slowly. "I remember."

"And she was desperate to be with you then, would have gone anywhere with you."

I closed my eyes, the truth of it laying my guts open in thin strips.

"I know."

"So now – and I meant it before, Edward, I have no idea what's wrong with her – but now all I know is that she's here, but she's… Well, you took her when she didn't want to."

She breathed out slowly, loudly, her frustration building momentum.

"Edward, if she doesn't want to be with you - now more than ever you need to let her go."

I felt my face seize up, panic twisting then freezing my mouth, my eyes, my forehead. Unable to help it, I turned towards the hallway, to where Bella had gone, to where I knew she was. The thought of letting her go scalded my insides and brought my basest instincts crashing to the fore again. The urge to go to her, to where she lay in the bath, lay so quiet, so dull, so gone. It took everything I had not to make that first step and a low growl trembled from my throat with the effort.

Shock, then fear burned their way across Alice's features.

"Edward, no…" she breathed, up from the couch in a brief shift of time, making her way over to me. "You can't do this. You know…" She paused, unwilling to say the words we both knew were there, lurking in the background like understudies desperate for a lucky break.

She reached my side, her small hands gripping my arms, her face as close to mine as it had ever been, horrified and desperate.

"You know they won't let you do this. Edward, you have to let her go!"

"I can't."

"You have to, Edward. The treaty –"

"I don't care."

Alice looked hysterical. "How can you say that? They'll come for you Edward – there's too many of them now –"

"I know how many there are."

"Then you know what will happen! And if you think we can just sit back –"

"You will sit back!" Alice shrank from me, my sudden anger scorching her. "I mean it Alice." I could feel the curl at the edge of my words, as though they too were burning. "This has nothing to do with you, with Carlisle. This is mine. I did this, I'm doing this." I could hear my voice break, knew I was going places I had never intended to go.

"I made a mistake, Alice. I have to be with her, be near her. I can't walk away again – I know you won't understand, but I can't, not even if she wants me to."

"But Edward -"

"No, Alice! I'm not an idiot, I know what will happen. I know this won't last, but…" I turned away from her, back to the window, to the glossy night that would soon enough break open to reveal my fate.

"You just don't get it. You think you do, because of Jasper - you think you know what I'm feeling, but you don't." I could see my reflection in the glass, a white ghost framed by darkness. Though my lips moved, it was my eyes that told the story.

"My. Whole. Life." I spoke the words slowly, emphasising their sound, their meaning. "My whole life - the whole time - I've been empty. I didn't know it – not really – not until I met her and then… then not until I left her."

I turned from my reflection, from the dead man talking. My words had become hoarse, as though every one cut a bloody trail through my throat.

"She's everything, Alice. There's nothing without her. And if she doesn't want me, I can still be near her. I can still be near her until they drag me away. And if I have two days or two hours or two minutes… If that's all I have with her, if that is the rest of my life – it's enough."

Alice's mouth opened, as if she would say something else – another protest, another plea. Her eyes were blacker than starvation.

"I'm sorry, Alice." I whispered, meaning it with every part of me. "I know this will be hard for you, hard for… for our family. But you have to go. You need to leave me.

"I need you to leave Alice."

*****************************************************************************************************************

I'm clinging to a rope hanging from a very tall tree. The ground below is so far away I can barely see it and the horror of just how far I could fall causes my legs to clench even tighter on the rope. Above me, the thick green foliage of the tree shifts gently in the breeze. I can smell the clean leafy smell and I know that if I can just make it to the top of the rope, the tree will shelter me and I'll be able to rest without falling. I inch up another couple of feet, my hands sticky with sweat but holding firm to the thick rope. Below me someone calls my name, and though I cannot place the voice, the sound fills me with a terror that sends me scrabbling up the rope, desperate for the sanctuary of the branches. I climb faster and for perhaps the first time in my life I do not falter, my hands and legs working in steady coordination to move me foot by foot. But the top seems to get no closer. Though I can see it clearly, see tiny veins in the deep green leaves, I don't seem to be moving at all. Below me the voice calls to me again and my flesh ripples in response. The breeze that has been blowing gently against my back picks up strength and the rope to which I cling begins to swing slowly from side to side. I panic and start to climb faster, focusing on the rope in front of me. The voice howls louder and I can hear my name broken into two pained halves: "Bell-a!" I climb faster still, but the top - my safe-hold - is still so far away. The wind blows harder and now, for the first time, my hands are slipping and terror fills me: terror of what should happen to me if I slip… If I fall. The wind screams, tearing the rope violently, but still I can hear the voice below, can hear my own voice too as I mutter pleas to myself to hold on, to be strong, to just hang on. But it's no good, my hands are drenched with sweat and too tired to lock and though I fight with everything I know that it is only a matter of time. And though I know that the ground will rush up at me fast, it isn't the ground I'm afraid of, it isn't the earth that makes my heart shudder in my chest and a scream explode from my lips…

*****************************************************************************************************************

Abruptly Alice turned from me, taking three short steps away.

"How do you know this is the only way?"

Her voice was broken, helpless-sounding, so unlike Alice.

"How do you know she won't snap out of this? How can you decide – decide to just…die."

I took a step towards her. "Do you think she can? Alice? Do you think she will?"

Alice turned back to me, defiance and desperation mixing on the bleak palette of her face. "Yes. Yes, I think she will."

"But you don't know, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You can't see her anymore than I can."

Alice looked dumbstruck and for a moment - just a brief second - I thought maybe I was wrong, that maybe she could see, had seen.

Maybe she will love me again.

But then her face crumpled, and I knew. She wanted to tell me I was wrong; she wanted it so desperately. But it would have been a lie.

"No." She whispered at last.

She sat down again, her head sagging forward on her slender neck.

"I don't understand it…" she said, her voice trembling. "I never told you, but I used to see her all the time. Until you decided to go back, I saw her living every second of her life loving you, longing for you. Then when I knew you were returning, I saw how she would greet you, how she would run from you, fight you, but she would love you."

She would love you.

Her words brought images to my mind so terrible in their beauty, so deadly in my longing for them, that I could barely stand.

"But then she went dark. I don't know Edward, but something happened, and it's changed everything." She started to look up at me then stopped, as if she couldn't bear to look me in the eye.

"I can't see her anymore, Edward. I swear when I saw what you would do - that you would take her away – it was like - like seeing you trying to hold smoke in your arms…"

She shook her head, unhappy with her explanation.

"I don't know any better way to explain it. I wish I could tell you I see something – and I should, I should be able to see something about what will happen to her. But I don't. It's like she's not even there.

And then she looked at me and for all the devastation I saw there, the naked hopelessness that matched my own, I wished she hadn't.

"Edward, it's like she's dead."

**************************************************************************************************************

And suddenly I wasn't falling, but rather sitting up and screaming into the hollow quiet of an unfamiliar bathroom. I couldn't focus, my body was shuddering from the effects of the dream, unwilling to let go of the terror.

First Edward then Alice came running into the room, fear scratching harsh lines on their perfect faces. I wanted to say something but I was too stuck in the dream, too stuck in the scream that - although it no longer had sound - was still clenched to my face.

Edward lunged towards me, but Alice threw herself in his path, shoving him hard with her tiny hands - so hard that he crashed against the cabinet. Her thin arms were stronger than I could have imagined as she pulled me out of the water, sheltering my naked body with a towel. But then Edward was there again, more determined than Alice could ever hope to be, lifting me out of her arms, cradling me like a half-drowned puppy, pressing my silent screaming face against his cold, hard throat.

"GO!" He yelled, his voice dark and ferocious. "I mean it Alice, you go - you GO NOW!"

Alice was frozen, half crouching next to the tub, water from my hasty rescue all over her expensive shoes. Her eyes were huge.

For a moment it looked like she would speak. Her eyes darted from Edward to me and then back again.

In my dream haze I knew I was scaring her – scaring her worse than I already had. But I couldn't help it, had no words to help her when I couldn't even help myself.

And then with one last pleading stare, one that caused Edward's fingers to bite painfully through the towel, she was gone.

Instantly Edward was on the move, carrying me through the bathroom door, down the hall and into a bedroom. So carefully I barely felt it he placed me on the bed, pulling the blanket around me over the towel as he did so and kneeling before me.

"Bella?" My name was a whisper muffled by his fear. I couldn't speak. Though the memory of the dream was draining from my mind, the terror remained and as I looked at his stricken face it seemed to rebound upon me, his terror mingling and feeding my own.

The vagueness of earlier, the sensation of drifting through an emotionless fog was gone. Every atom of my body was consumed by that single explosive emotion. I couldn't verbalise it, couldn't reason it, and as the seconds ticked by I felt myself falling deeper and deeper into it.

"Bella?" He was closer now, his white face so near my own I could see the tiny grooves in his mouth, the individual lashes on his lids.

But I couldn't speak, the terror a thick glue in my throat, my mind a hopeless snarl, unable to reconcile the reality from the dream. Somehow, even there, sitting on the bed, my feet clearly touching the soft carpet, I still felt in mortal danger of plummeting to my death.

And then before I could untangle it, before I could even take another rasping breath, a howl that I recognised all too well echoed through the woods.

Edward stiffened and in his eyes was a finality - a grim acceptance - that even I – in my jumbled state – could not fail to recognise. And then before I could even try to do anything with that knowledge, he was kissing me, cold lips somehow hot against mine. And oh this was so different to what I knew. Before where he had pressed his lips so carefully to mine, now he moaned against my mouth, forcing my lips open so he could kiss me passionately, aggressively, hungrily. If his smell had ever seemed hypnotic to me, if his taste had always been a thousand – a million – times more, now I was destroyed by it, shattered into too many pieces to fathom. The first time he had ever kissed me - despite the caution, the restraint, the care for my safety – I could have died for the taste of him.

But now, death was simply not enough.

His hands hooked through my hair, one grasping a large handful the other dragging its way down my body, fingers savouring my skin, as he pressed his body hard into mine so that I fell back onto the bed. And all the while he continued to make that sound, that half groan/half growl that seemed to come from so deep down inside him.

Like he was loving and dying at the same time.

The fear that he would lose control seemed to be beyond him, in fact he seemed to be inviting it as he ground himself against me and grazed his lips, his teeth across my cheek and down my jaw to my neck

But then as suddenly as he had started he stopped, moving off me with his usual grace, his body tauter than wire.

For a moment he stood next to the bed looking down on me, his mouth partially open as if he would say my name.

Like he's saying goodbye...

But as a second howl echoed through the night, he turned – his bared teeth a brief white flash in the dim light - and was gone.