Yup, I rewrote it. That's why you got a second notification for Chapter 33. As you already know, I've never pulled or reposted a chapter before. It's a breach of unspoken fanfiction posting rules between me the writer and you the reader, and I hope you forgive me for posting two days ago something I wasn't completely happy with. The basic plot remains the same; just how it is handled is now a bit different.

The advantage of the new review system FFN has is that you can still leave me your thoughts—including the offended, angry ones—even if you've already reviewed the earlier version. Just log out and put your name in at the top.

The rough plan is still about 38-40 chapters.

As before appreciation goes to ATONAU for a quick pre-read of a now much earlier draft of this chapter. (For the record, she didn't encourage my current rule breaking). The will power metaphor is accredited to psychologist Roy Baumeister.

~*~Chapter Thirty-Three~*~

Bella let her feet carry her up the stairs. Quickly. Away from Carlisle, away from Rosalie. But the screams followed her. The house reverberated with them and there was no escape. Even though Bella's feet took her into her room, her hand shut the door behind her, her legs moved her onto the bed, and her face buried against her hugged knees—the screams still followed.

And blood stayed with her. Bella could taste the salty ridge and loose skin inside her lip where Carlisle's kiss had made her teeth cut. Her tongue ran along it, recognizing the abnormality.

Strumming my pain…

"Breathe, Bella," she said aloud.

And there he was

Seeing it again in a flash of her mind's eye, Carlisle rose from his crouched position on the floor, and struck Rosalie.

This young boy

Rosalie flew backward to the wall.

A stranger to my eyes

And Ramesh bounced off the car, landing on the hard black pavement.

From downstairs the deep masculine screams were ongoing.

Strumming my pain…

Killing me softly with his song…

Bella's tongue worked against the abused flesh inside her mouth.

(~*~)

Downstairs in the living room, alongside Rosalie and his screaming new child, Carlisle was standing still, not moving.

In his studies Carlisle had once read a proposal by a psychologist on the idea that will power was like a muscle and overuse could temporarily exhaust it. He could personally attest now to there being some merit to the metaphor. Carlisle's self-control had snapped.

Making love to Bella was a precarious balance between luscious surrender and tight control. The closer he got to pleasure, the stronger he had to be to stay reined in. It was an inner battle of slack and rein that grew more massive with each touch. And tonight he'd been prepared for the ultimate sweet agony.

Then the scene had abruptly changed from love and pleasure to blood and near-death. His control had to adapt to the emergency. Already tightly stretched, it had grown more and more taut with each play on it.

Sex.

Rosalie's threatened violence against his mate.

And blood.

There was blood on his lips, a taste not even slightly sampled in decades, and it gave a flickering rise to a hunger long resisted. His inner battle had changed shape, back to the beginning pressure when his presiding desire was for the sex and taste of Bella. In the moment he'd finished releasing his venom into Rosalie's young man, Carlisle had lost control and moved to his mate, no thought but his need and want for her.

And he was desperate, for he had known the instant he'd seen Rosalie with the bleeding stranger in her arms that he was about to lose Bella. There could only be one reason Rosalie would show up with an almost-dead human, begging him for help. There had been two roads before him. The first, to help Rosalie, his child, who had always needed help more than any of his family but rarely gave him an opportunity to provide any. The second, to refuse. For there was no way Bella could stay in the house with a newborn, and if Carlisle delivered the venom, he was honor-bound to stay with the man.

There was no time to wait for anyone else to be the young man's sire, and Rosalie wouldn't do it. Wouldn't because she was a coward, Carlisle mused with a touch of bitterness, or wouldn't because she was so dark that only one taste could send her over the edge? That was the edge she was precariously perched on when she arrived.

No, Rosalie wasn't a coward, and Carlisle berated himself for allowing his emotional turmoil to lead him to even thinking such an uncharacteristic thought of his loved one. Rosalie was in a crucible and she had been asking him to help her through to the other side.

But at what cost? Only Bella could tell him that, and he'd made things worse. Kissing her roughly with the stranger's blood on his mouth and making her bleed.

He'd tasted Bella's blood.

She'd run out of the room, up the stairs to where—not so long ago, but in a way an age ago—they'd been about to physically become one.

Bella had to leave. She couldn't stay in the house. But how far had he pushed her? When she left, would she be leaving him completely?

Carlisle withdrew into himself. He remained standing in the living room. Rosalie and the screams of the young man were his only company. He'd barely acknowledged the eventual arrival of the other members of his family. They'd all gone straight to Bella anyway.

(~*~)

Bella just barely sensed someone else in the room before a cool arm eased around her shoulders, offering comfort. Her body twitched away, and the arm withdrew.

Blinking, Bella raised her face from her knees. It wasn't Carlisle; she could tell by the smell. Confused, she turned her head.

"Esme?"

Esme smiled at her, sympathy showing in her kind face. "We're here."

"How…?"

"Alice called us." Maggie stood beside the bed, just behind Esme, all caring concern. "She and Jasper are on their way."

Bella's mouth fell open, and she scrambled off the bed. "She called you? Why didn't she call us? Why didn't she call me?"

"It was already happening, Bella. She didn't see it in time."

"Well, why the hell not?" Bella immediately regretted the words. There was no argument for events outside of control, and it was stupid to focus her ire on Alice, as well as to yell at Esme and Maggie. It's not as if her shouts could possibly drown out the screams coming from downstairs. The flash of anger left her eyes, and face crumbling, Bella turned away from them.

Esme's arm returned, wrapping around her shoulders, and guiding her back to the bed. Bella sat, the tears she'd been fighting beginning to shed. She wiped at them, but more came, slowly and silently falling.

"Bella," Esme's voice was gentle, "can you talk about it?"

Bella's jaw tightened and loosened. Her tongue absently played along the inside of her lip. It was a long moment before she finally answered. "I don't know how."

"Could you…" Esme tried again, but didn't finish. A scream reverberated with extra force and Bella covered her ears.

"I can't stand it!" Her voice cracked as she screeched. "I can't stay here."

"We know," Alice said from the door to the room, in chorus with Maggie speaking the same two words. Alice entered the room swiftly, Jasper moving in slowly behind her.

(~*~)

When Alice arrived in Bella's room, she found Esme and Maggie already there. Esme was sitting beside Bella on her bed, holding her while Bella wiped tears away. Bella seemed dazed, as though she hadn't quite gotten ahold of what was happening around her.

Alice didn't blame her. In fact, Alice wished she could comfort Bella as Esme was doing now. But they all had their parts to play and Alice's was to ease Bella's departure.

She couldn't stay. Rosalie had found her mate, and brought him to Carlisle to be changed. Now that Emmett was here, he wasn't going anywhere. And there were no possibilities that didn't result in Bella's death if she tried to stay in the house with a newborn. None.

And Carlisle would not be going with her. He would never leave behind someone he'd bitten, no matter how large a family of support existed around him. He was a man of honor, and would feel too keenly the responsibility.

Bella would be going. Carlisle would be staying. These things were self-evident.

So Alice began to pack.

(~*~)

"Alice," Bella sighed the name, ready for some answers. She watched as Alice moved into Bella's closet and pulled out one of her tote bags. "What's going on? Who did Rosalie bring here? Why did she do it?"

"His name is Emmett. And he'll be a part of our family very soon," Alice said.

Alice bussed about Bella's room, gathering and determining. Just hours ago Bella had watched Alice pack for herself and Jasper. Now Alice was packing for her, and it wasn't going to be only for a weekend. Not this time.

"I'm part of this family."

"Of course you are, Bella. We all love you. But now that he's in this house, you can't be. Just for now. Just until we can teach him self-control."

"How long is that going to take?"

"I don't know." Alice turned to face Bella, watched her worrying the inside of her lower lip. "How long are you going to need?"

Bella didn't say anything. Her eyes scanned the room, looking at the four of them: Jasper, Alice, Esme, Maggie. Bella didn't think that she'd ever had all of their eyes so focused on her, not even the night Carlisle and Bella had returned from the garage after confessing their feelings. They looked at her, all of them unnaturally pale with varying shades of golden eyes. They were her family—and they were not normal. The screaming downstairs made that more evident than ever. Screaming she had been planning on doing herself one day.

"I don't have an answer for that."

Alice nodded and continued to go through Bella's things.

"Jasper," Bella began, redirecting her focus from Alice. Looking at Jasper, she was suddenly forcibly reminded of the first time she'd ever laid eyes on him. He'd frightened her a little, when she'd turned in the cafeteria and seen him looking at her. His eyes had been dark then; he'd been hungry. And Bella had felt that he was dangerous, a feeling validated even more the night he had helped intimidate the guys who attacked her in the alley in Port Angeles. Yes, she'd thought Jasper was dangerous. Bella remembered the way Rosalie looked tonight, as even more screams reverberated through the house.

She'd had no idea.

Jasper strode toward her now, putting his hand on her arm. She looked into his eyes and saw the man that had sought her out four months ago, urging her to come back to the family. She saw the brother she'd joked about the disgusting habits of teenage boys with. Bella took a deep breath, then tried and failed to give him a shaky smile.

"Jasper, how long does it take for a newborn to adjust?"

"Months."

Bella closed her eyes and nodded, stepping away from him. Only to find herself being hugged by Maggie.

"Don't give up, dear," Maggie said, her curly red hair tickling Bella's face.

Even though she was grateful for the gesture, Bella didn't respond, but instead carefully eased away.

"You're all set, Bella." Alice had Bella's tote bag over her shoulder. "I'll put this in the car for you."

The moment hurt. Truthfully every moment had hurt since she'd run from the living room. She didn't want to be ready to go out the door yet. But the screams were an ever present reminder of why it was necessary.

"I'll take the bag," Bella said and held out her hand.

Alice looked like she was about to protest, but then she simply handed it over. Bella wrapped her hand around the strap, feeling the rough polyester-nylon of the fabric, the weight of it making her tighten the muscles in her arm.

And her heart squeezed painfully.

"Carlisle," she sighed very softly, but everyone heard her.

(~*~)

Carlisle came to her bedroom door. The others moved passed him out of the room, no one saying a thing. He still wore the clothes that he'd hastily put back on when Rosalie arrived. Instead of askew, his necktie was now completely undone. His shirt was buttoned and his pants were belted on. He must have picked his belt up from where they dropped it on the stairs. Funny, that she could remember now that was where it ended up, when she'd had no idea what she'd tripped over on the way down from her bedroom—before she'd been aware of the craziness about to happen.

Carlisle's expression was hard to bear. She didn't know if she'd ever seen him look so miserable and forlorn. Bella tightened her grip on her bag. This had to be taken slowly, one step at a time. She couldn't launch herself at him to comfort him when she felt just as miserable. And the last time one of them had launched themselves at the other, it hadn't gone well.

Once everyone had gone, leaving them to relative privacy, Carlisle spoke softly, but just loud enough to be heard over the screams.

"I am sorry for hurting you."

Belatedly, Bella realized that she was pushing her tongue against her inner lip again. She wondered if he'd noticed it. "It's fine."

"I shouldn't have touched you at all." Carlisle's words came in a rush. "It was out of line. I was out of line."

"Yes, you were… and no, you weren't." Bella sighed, and her grip loosened on her bag. But she didn't let go. "You were doing what you needed to do."

"Bella…"

"I have to leave." Bella gazed at him. His face was gaunter than usual, all pale, with shadows under his eyes and hollow cheeks.

"I know. It would be dangerous for you to stay."

"That is not the only reason I have to go."

Carlisle nodded. Bella knew that he understood, and was relieved not to have to speak aloud something she didn't really know how to find the words for. Carlisle's hand moved ever so slightly, as if he wanted to reach for her. Then it dropped by his side again.

Cautiously Bella stepped closer. It was hard to do at first, but then each step seemed to take itself, and soon she was standing directly in front of him. He was still her Carlisle. Being nearer to him remained comforting.

Bella closed her eyes briefly to take a deep breath, trying to forget that she was in a house full of screams. Trying to remember who she was—who they were—before.

"Carlisle, what is happening to us?"

Suddenly the gauntness in his face was lessened. Carlisle touched her cheek, so softly she could barely tell his fingers were there. "I don't know. I am relieved there still is an 'us.'"

Bella leaned her cheek into his hand and looked up at Carlisle with angst-filled eyes. "Of course there's still an 'us.' Why would you…" She stopped as she realized the words she was about to utter were foolish.

Unable to help herself she stepped back, and started pacing the room. It only made things worse. She grew increasingly agitated, her sense of surroundings no longer grounded by his presence, anyone's presence but her whirling thoughts and the horrific screams of a man both healing and dying. She needed out of this house.

She needed to get away from the screams, from the memories that were ruining her calm. But she knew she would have to leave him behind, and she didn't know how she could find the strength to separate herself from him again. She didn't want to, but couldn't live here with him anymore.

"Carlisle," she said brokenly, and instantly he was there with her, his arms around her. "I love you." The spinning in her head stopped.

Carlisle kissed her hair, murmuring her name. "I love you more than anything. But I cannot change who I am."

"I know." She leaned into his chest. They were kneeling in the middle of her bedroom floor, and his chin came to rest on her head, the motion tucking her closer while he held her. She still had her bag in her hand. "I need a little time to figure out how to accept all of what loving you means." And with her free hand she gripped his arm, tight as she could. "But I am coming back."

Carlisle pulled back just far enough so that he could look down into her eyes.

Bella met his gaze, and she wished that she could have done so without a part of her inwardly flinching. Her humanity, something that she hadn't been aware it was even possible to feel, recognized danger. Though a new battle was being waged inside, love allowed her to reassert without absolute conviction. "I'm coming back, Carlisle."

Crouching on the bedroom floor, they held onto each other, knowing there wasn't much time before they had to let go.

(~*~)

Jasper leaned his shoulder against the wall, watching as Rosalie and Carlisle carried Emmett up the stairs, bringing him to the bed that until today, he had shared with Alice. Rosalie was emitting more strongly than usual, and some of the emotions coming at him were not what he was accustomed to sensing in her. There was the customary determination and low-level anger. Even apprehension and concern weren't too revolutionary. Hope, however, was something he'd never sense from his sister before.

Jasper gave a mental sigh once the three passed out of his sight, and he turned so that it was his back making contact with the wall. He let the emotions swirl beyond him, into the walls of the house that was bearing silent witness to the events occurring within.

For the last three years there had been the sweetness of Carlisle and Bella slowly growing closer, the impatience of the family around them—Jasper included, and then at last the joy of first discovery.

Bella's heart skipped a beat every time Carlisle would enter the same room. All could hear it, and see the rush of pleasure in her eyes. Carlisle's reaction was much the same—his body became more relaxed, his smile more at the ready. Everyone in the house tensed with anticipation until the two of them were beside each other, touching. It was never the same; each touch was different. Sometimes it was a hug, sometimes just the sides of their hands grazing each other. The milder touch was more intense, and the whole house could hardly wait for those fingers to finally entwine.

Their growing love and desire for each other permeated the home, a tension of pleasurable and happy anticipation. The house now held a tension of a different kind, and an anticipation that was not as pleasant. For all Rosalie's hope, and even the happiness that Alice held for her, Carlisle's grief and fear of losing Bella was stronger than it all.

So Jasper remained where he was, back against the wall, out of the path when Carlisle rushed down the stairs and out of the house.

(~*~)

Bella was trying hard not to cry. The rain was coming down on her windshield. It wasn't dawn yet. The darkness and the rain made it hard enough to see, and she took care to drive slowly. No, she wouldn't cry. Not yet. She would cry later, when she got to wherever she was going.

There was nothing but silence for the next mile. She'd almost gone two when she finally saw him. There was movement along the trees, running apace with the car. Bella eased her foot off the gas pedal. No other cars were around as she slowed and came to a complete stop in the middle of the road.

He'd slowed, too. Then he moved out of the woods and stood on the side of the road and just looked at her.

It was dark, and Carlisle was covered in rain, pale and wet. His hair clung to his scalp. If she were closer, she was certain she would see water dripping off of his face.

Bella understood now his resistance when Rosalie had asked him for help, why he had been silently asking her permission before he'd agreed. He knew that changing Emmett would change their lives, and that she would have to leave the house. Had he known the effect it would have on him? Or the one it would have on her?

In a few mere hours their lives had been completely overturned. It was unreal, and it was necessary. For better or worse, a man hadn't lost his life bleeding out on their living room carpet. That was one thing she couldn't bring herself to regret, as much as she wished that she could just get out of the car and go to Carlisle, for the two of them to go back to simply being blindly in love. As much as she wished that the long dormant self-preservation part of her instincts had not woken up to truly recognize the otherness in the Cullens.

It wasn't so easy to be blind anymore.

For several long moments she and Carlisle stared at each other across the wet black asphalt.

Then Bella continued driving.

Next chapter… some surprises while on the road