A/N: Here's the second part of this story. What I've decided to do is what I did for my story Release. There will be two endings. So if you don't like this one there is going to be one more. A 'happier' one.
This story, of course, has received very little attention. Seems to be a trend with my work. However, as usual, the attention it has received has been wonderful. Quality over quantity.
Special thanks to my beta Aleeab4u. Her help and support is invaluable even beyond the confines of ffnet. You know what I mean my dear and it means so much to me.
For those of you that have reviewed and alerted and favorited this story, thank you. Sarita I owe you. A number of people found me because of you and that kind of support means so much. I promise I haven't forgotten about leaving you a review.
Speaking of that Sarita wrote a story you guys should go read. For Without You, I Would Be Nothing by Saritadreaming. New Moon one-shot. Sad and beautiful and sensual all in one.
I tried to reply to all of the reviews but I think I forgot some so for that I apologize. Annatwo, BettyBarchetta, Edward's Eternal, lisa-alice-cullen, SandytheSandstorm, Louise. Thank you all. If I missed anyone please don't take it personally. I appreciate each and every one of you.
On an aside, as some of you may know, I've been working on an article about why people hate Twilight. It finally got published and the link for it is on my profile in case you feel like reading it. I have also decided I am going to do a follow up article called In Defense Of Twilight so you all have a second chance to fill out my questionnaire if you want. It's in my stories under the title "Help".
Long ass A/N. Sorry! Please leave a review and thanks for reading.
Within seconds I stood in the doorway and there before me lay Bella's pale and still form. She was on her side, facing me. A knife dangled limply in one hand while the other was covered in blood. It was caked on her forearm in layers upon layers and stained the sheets beneath her. The air was permeated with the rusty floral scent of her lifeblood.
What have I done?
In an instant I was at her side searching her body for signs of life despite my preternatural senses telling me what I already knew. No. No. No. No.
It couldn't be true.
I laid my head over her heart listening for the one thing that grounded me, that kept me tethered to this earth.
Nothing.
I pressed my fingers to the pulse point on her neck, the place I'd so often tortured myself with the scent of her blood.
Nothing.
I lay my cheek against her slackened jaw and cold blue lips searching for even the faintest puff of breath.
Nothing.
And lastly I looked into her eyes, her brown eyes that had seen so deeply into my soul. And I knew now that I had one. I knew it because it had resided in this pale and beautiful creature and now it was gone.
I screamed long and hard, my head lifted up toward the ceiling but in my mind it was the sky I saw, the shining stars and the cold dead moon and I realized that's what I was, a cold dead moon circling an empty space.
I'd always been afraid of this; afraid that she would die because of me but never had I thought it would be like this. This. This was the worst of my sins, the worst crime I could have ever committed. Of all of the lives I have ever taken this is the only one that truly mattered.
My fingers dug into the mattress as I leaned over her. My dry eyes were a harsh reminder of the monster that I am, that even in my most desperate hour God would not grant me a single tear.
I cradled her to me and it was like a new kind of pain when I didn't think there could be one any worse. The electricity that normally bound us together keened and wailed in the absence of its spark, the living flesh of Bella that was the fuel to our fire. It hurt to touch her in ways it never had when she was alive.
It felt like this was some sort of imposter instead of myBella. Her cooling skin was soft and pliable and her limbs were weak and heavy with death. All I could think was that she should be cold and hard and heavy with strength, and not this decaying corpse lying limp in my arms.
I knew then what I had to do, the only thing I could do, the only thing I wanted to do and I had to act quickly before anyone caught on, before Alice sees, before Charlie begins to worry in earnest, before the wolves pick up the scent of her blood. I would be spending eternity with Bella. Just not the way I had thought it would be.
I picked her up and ran us from that place that should have been a memory in her mind years from now. I could see it clearly. An older Bella, her skin a little less smooth, the first hints of grey hair, hips widened from giving birth to the children scattering around her. She'd think back on these days and wonder if it all wasn't just some sort of dream, something her creative mind had imagined, that perhaps she had seen what she wanted to see. And if she ever got close to the truth, ever started to really wonder, her husband and children and the chores of everyday life would distract her from being able to give it any real thought. She would be happy.
She would have been happy. She should have been happy. But she wasn't.
She wasn't anything anymore.
I reached the cliff face quickly, far more quickly than it had taken to get to the cabin. I was still north so there were no Quileute lines to cross.
This isn't what I wanted, isn't what I had fantasized about back in the forest but it would have to do. It was the only way to ensure I couldn't be tracked, that we couldn't be tracked.
I held my siren in my arms while I looked down at the blackened sea listening to the waves crashing against the rocks. It seems we had both been called to our deaths.
I kissed her forehead one last time, my lips lingering on her flaccid skin as my face broke out in an anguished incomplete sob. At least there would be enough tears in the ocean to last us forever.
"I'm so sorry." I whispered. "I love you."
And then we were under the water.
I swam. I swam and I swam until we reached the point where the shelf floor dipped down sharply hundreds of miles. I swam us to the very bottom and when I got there I buried us in the sand. I lay myself atop her knowing that my weight would keep her anchored there. Even in death I needed to control her, to control our fate. I couldn't bear the thought of what would have happened to her had I let the authorities find her.
I hoped that eventually I would grow so weak with hunger that I would slip into the closest thing I could to death with my angel wrapped beneath me in blood stained sheets and the swishing of the tides as our lullaby.
"Just asleep, her soul immortal,
Dwelling now beyond life's woes,
Finds from care and pain and sorrow
Sweet and undisturbed repose.
As a dream when one awaketh,
As a tale when it is told;
Thus its flight the spirit taketh,
Dust returns to earthly mold."
Not Dead, But Sleeping
Clara M. Brooks
1911
