Angsty stuff. Poor Edward.

The thing started crying, a high, delicate - I hated to use such a light, pretty word in reference to It, but there was really no other word to describe it - wail, and Rosalie's attention was again diverted, just for an instant, but this time, it was enough.

I forced my way out from under her, sending her sprawling, and I was free.

I could now see the person who had spoken - Carlisle. Even though I knew he was a strong pacifist, it still surprised me that he had stopped Rosalie from killing me, the one who had walked away from his dying daughter-in-law and had tried to kill his granddaughter, and everyone else in his family as well.

The Cullens, all except Edward - who had stayed upstairs after all, it appeared - were gathered in a loose semicircle at the far end of the room. Carlisle, Jasper and Emmett were at the front, Jasper and Emmett staring at Carlisle with incredulity, Alice's attention and glare solely focused on me, and Esme's attention on It. Suddenly, she left the others and darted across the room, picking up Renesmee and cuddling it, in much the same way as Rosalie had been doing mere seconds ago. The fury ignited once again. I should attack now, when they were moderately unaware.

Jasper made a sudden motion, as if to step forward, and then there was movement, so fast I could barely see it, much less react. In half a millisecond, Emmett was on my furry back, his teeth at my throat and his burly, malodorous arms around my neck, tightening menacingly.

This was a good situation to be in, I thought to myself. Surrounded by six mutinous vampires, caught red-handed trying to kill their sister and niece/granddaughter.

Nobody moved for a moment, except for Rosalie who got up off the floor and went to stand by Carlisle. Besides her and Alice's murderous glares, all the rest of the bloodsuckers' expressions were wary. Finally, Carlisle spoke, his voice echoing in the silence of the room.

"Calm," he pleaded, his eyes flicking from me to Rosalie to the thing, still squalling in Esme's arms. "Let us be calm. There is no need to be hasty."

In the back part of my mind, I noted how he said "let us" instead of "let's", and how it had a more soothing, formal effect.

I narrowed my eyes slightly, and Jasper tensed, reading my emotions. It annoyed me, as it always did, when the bloodsuckers took one more bit of my privacy away, privacy I had already mostly lost from being in the pack.

We waited in silence for an eternity longer. Nobody relaxed.

Finally, Carlisle said, "Now. First things first. Bella is upstairs, yes? Is her condition stable?"

Nobody quite knew the answer, except for me, and as I wasn't in a form that could speak, and as I wasn't sure I'd be able to say the words anyway, I couldn't answer.

There was more movement, from the stairs this time. We all turned to look.

It was Edward, of course, but the moment I saw him, I knew he had finally given up. His body was drooping, his walk unsteady, like he would fall at any time. He halted staggeringly to a stop at the bottom, and didn't move for one agonizing moment.

I had to pity him. There was no other emotion you could feel after watching him struggle down the steps, like an old man. And in that moment, for the second time in my life, it put my emotions in perspective. Again, I was just a small-town kid.

My fear for what was coming, my anger, my hatred toward these monsters standing in front of me, the monster whose sobs were finally quieting in the arms of one of the two decent ones, even my pain at what I had just witnessed, all were nothing compared to his mindless, never-ending agony. My own words came back to me: "His, mine, yours, what's the difference?" It had been when I had tried to convince Bella to get rid of the thing that had been killing her.

And now I saw the difference. My pain, Carlisle's, Esme's, any, all of ours combined, was nothing. It was a mud puddle compared to an ocean. I could not imagine to be living in the hell he was so obviously living in now. I shuddered, and Emmett didn't even respond, too caught up in watching his brother suffer.

And then I looked at Jasper, whose face was contorted as he battled with Edward's torture and everyone else's. A force so heavy, I was surprised he didn't crumple under the weight.

Abruptly, I felt hideous for ever wishing this upon anyone. No one, from a mindless assassin to the bane of my existence for the past two years, Edward Cullen, deserved this appalling wash of pain.

I turned my attention back to Edward. His face was downcast, staring at the ground, and I was glad he didn't look up. I didn't want to see his eyes.

"No, Carlisle," he said, softer than a whisper, so soft that I could barely hear it. "Her condition is not stable. She's dead."

And then he collapsed.