I'm sorry for the people that didn't like the last chapter (which was to say, pretty much everybody, I think). That kind of depressed me, because that was my favorite. But then someone pointed out that those most likely to read this story are probably way more Team Jacob-ish, and I'm on the Edward side. So that made me feel better. Also, I'm sorry for those of you who thought that it was too focused on Edward because, contrary to what I originally thought, this chapter is about half of Edward. Sorry.

His eyes were downcast again, so I couldn't see them. I was glad. I still felt Emmett on my back, but he wasn't necessary now. I was too full of anguish from watching Edward, even though he was my enemy, to be angry, to want to kill.

He was still in Carlisle's arms, and now he let Edward go. He stood on his own.

Esme put It in Rosalie's arms and went to Edward, wrapping her arms tightly around his narrow form, trying to comfort for a pain that was uncomfortable.

I shifted uncomfortably under Emmett, not because he was heavy, but because I wasn't quite sure what I should be doing, and the annoyance was flaring up again at having him on my back.

I thought about trying to communicate that I wanted to switch back to my human form, but I didn't want to - not really. Oftentimes, even when vampires weren't around, I felt more comfortable in my wolf form - more natural. And now, looking at the way Alice and Rosalie were glaring at me, feeling Emmett's arms around my neck - phasing back would be almost impossible.

But being a wolf did have its problems - poor communication, for instance. And Edward wasn't really in the mood to translate. So I would have to be content watching.

"Edward, no," Alice said now, in answer to his plea. "If we killed you, how do you think we would cope? Isn't losing Bella hard enough? And you have a daughter, Edward - you are responsible for her."

"But how can I stand that?" Edward retorted, whispering again. "Looking into her eyes, knowing that Bel-Bella-" he choked on her name "died because of her? Seeing Bel - seeing her eyes, duplicated onto Renesmee's face? And then - were I to survive all those years, assuming I did come to love Renesmee - then she would die, too. And I would be alone again, more alone than I ever was. Would you kill me then?"

It was partly a rhetorical question, because he and everyone else all knew that they could never kill Edward in cold blood. I, on the other hand, was a different matter. The pity I felt towards him told me to do what he wanted, to let him die. I wouldn't miss him. But that was not an option. Now, anyway. We would see how things played out, but maybe Edward might get his wish before the day was done.

I suddenly remembered the promise I had made him: "You won't have to beg long." I had told him I would kill him if Bella died. Well, she was dead, and no doubt Edward would force me to make good on my promise.

"Edward," said Esme softly, her arms still around him, "We'll all miss Bella terribly, but suicide isn't the answer."

And Edward looked down at her with eyes as cold as snow, and said, "But of course you don't apply to that. You're allowed to jump off a cliff after losing your child, but I'm not "allowed" to kill myself after my wife, the center of my universe, dies? And your reaction, were something to happen to Carlisle, would be different? Am I to believe that you would just cope with his death and move on? Or would you just try and kill yourself again, hoping that, this time, no one would be there to save you?" His tone was mockingly bitter and sharp.

"All this hypocrisy makes me sick," he said, talking to everyone now, the pain fading marginally from his eyes as anger flared up. "Like any of you would do something different, were you in my place! Can't you just imagine the pain, the misery, the sense of emptiness? And yet you still deny me the one thing I want most?"

Esme took her arms away from him and flinched away from his anger. She stared at the floor, biting her lip, and I could see that she was trying hard to keep the dry sobs from escaping after Edward's attack.

Edward noticed, too, and was repentant. "Esme, I'm sorry. You were just trying to help." He was stiffly formal as the anger receded.

Esme still stood away from him, not quite sure how to respond.

There was a long pause, in which nobody spoke. Suddenly, Rosalie turned away from Edward and looked right at me. "And what about him?" she spat through her teeth. "He was going to kill Renesmee!"

Another pause, and then Carlisle said quietly, "So was I, Rose. I wanted to kill her from the very beginning, remember?"

Relief instinctively flowed through me. Carlisle did not want me dead. I knew that that might be enough to keep me alive. He was so influential on the rest of the Cullens.

But then, as the initial relief wore off, fear studded itself in my heart again. Carlisle didn't always decide what would happen. Rosalie, after all, hadn't listened to him. She could go against his wishes no matter what he said, and I could still die. After all, I was fairly sure no one else would stick up for me.

So it surprised me when another quiet voice spoke up. "We can't kill him."

I stared at the one who had spoken, so shocked I wouldn't have believed he had said it if I hadn't seen his lips move.

The one who had spoken was Jasper.

I stared at him with uncontrolled surprise. What possible reason could he have for not wanting me dead?

Rosalie growled, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she glared at Jasper. But he had eyes only for me, and right now they were mildly curious, very urgent, and still agonized from the emotions he was sensing.

Edward looked up sharply at the turn of events, and he said, "Jasper?" so quietly I could barely hear him. His expression was strange; pleading but surprised, soft and curious as he read Jasper's thoughts.

"Thank you," Edward murmured, again deathly quiet, and I grew even more confused. Emmett's hold loosened on my back and I thought about flipping him off me. He wasn't necessary now. I was too confused to have much anger left, and though the hatred for the thing still burned as strong as ever, the heat of the moment was gone and so had the murderous rage.

Edward's head snapped up; his black eyes focused on me and I shivered a little from the intensity.

"Emmett, you can get off Jacob now."

I felt relieved toward Edward, and grateful; I was surprised that he could be himself enough to translate, and grateful that he cared enough to. But then again, his eyes, they had a funny expression on them. Apprehensive, maybe, and then - was that a faint trace of satisfaction? No, it couldn't be.

Emmett's weight shifted, but he didn't get off; I could feel his hesitation. On the one hand, he trusted Edward, even in the state he was in now; on the other, I could still leap at either the thing or Rosalie, who, I recalled, was his wife. After a moment more, Emmett's trust in Edward won out and he was off my back and across the room in a second, standing in front of Rosalie.

"Why should he deserve to live?" Rosalie spat, her glare averted from Jasper. Her expression was black, and I figured that she would do whatever it took to make me dead. "He deserts Bella in her hour of need - don't look at me that way, Carlisle, you know he did; was he with Edward, trying to save her, the girl he supposedly loves?" Her words are bitingly sarcastic. "No, he was down here, trying to kill the very person Bella went through all this to save."

"He has to stay alive," Jasper continued, "because he made a deal. He will do what Edward wants. It will be hard on all of us, but it must be done."

The silence that followed was complete and absolute.