CHAPTER TWENT-FIVE: AN IMPASS

My eyes slowly fluttered opened to a bright, white light. I was in an all too familiar room, a white room—I knew it to be a hospital room, which left me confused. The wall beside me was covered in long vertical blinds; over my head, the glaring lights blinded me. I was propped up on a hard, uneven bed with rails. The pillows were flat and lumpy, everything but comfortable. There was an annoying beeping sound somewhere close by. I hoped that meant I was still alive. Death shouldn't be this uncomfortable. None of this was what I'd speculated Heaven to be like. Perhaps broken souls needed mending before they could go on?

My hands and arms were all twisted up with clear tubes, and something was taped across my face, under my nose. I lifted my hand to rip it off.

"No, you don't." And cool fingers caught my hand.

"Edward?" I turned my head slightly, and his exquisite face was just inches from mine, his chin resting on the edge of my pillow. I realized, slowly once more, that I was indeed alive, this time with gratitude and elation. "Edward, I'm so sorry!"

"Shhhh," he shushed me. "Everything's all right now."

"What happened?" I couldn't remember clearly, there were flashes of fire, a bright light, and pain, pain like I'd never experienced—my mind rebelled against me as I tried to recall each detail.

"I was almost too late. I could have been too late," he whispered, his voice tormented.

I groaned, clearly annoyed. "No you don't. You're not putting any of this on you. I was the stupid one here, Edward. I thought he had my parents, the baby."

"He tricked us all."

"I need to call my mom and dad," I realized through the haze.

"Alice had already called them. Reed and Charley are both here — well, they're here in the hospital. They've gone to get something to eat right now. Reed nearly had to drag Charley out of the room."

"They're here?" I tried to sit up, but the spinning in my head accelerated, and his hand pushed me gently down onto the pillows.

"They'll be back soon," he assured. "And you need to stay still."

"But what did you tell them?" I panicked. I had no interest in being soothed. My parents were here, in the hospital, and I was once again recovering. Only this time the assault had come from a sadistic vampire. "What's the story. Why do they think I'm here?"

"You fell down two flights of stairs and through a window." He paused. "You have to admit, it could happen." He flashed me my favorite grin, and I could not help but smile. I sighed almost instantly as I laughed, my entire body hurt. I stared down at my body under the sheet, the huge lump that was my leg.

"How bad am I?" I asked.

"You have a broken leg, four broken ribs, some cracks in your skull, bruises covering every inch of your skin, and you've lost a lot of blood. They gave you a few transfusions. I didn't like it — it made you smell all wrong for a while." Huh, not all that worse than when Alex and Jericho had attacked me.

"That must have been a nice change for you," I offered jokingly.

"No, I like how you smell."

"How did you do it?" I asked quietly. He knew what I meant at once.

"I told you. I love you, more than anything. My entire being is repulsed by the idea of causing any harm to you." He never looked away from my wondering eyes. I lifted my gauze-wrapped hand from the bed and held it gently in his, careful not to disrupt the wire connecting me to one of the monitors.

I waited patiently for the rest; I knew there was more.

He smiled. I could feel just how proud he was of himself. "I thought it would be impossible... to stop," he whispered. "But the moment that I could taste your blood over the venom…I stopped. That entire aspect of myself, the predator, the monster that so desperately craved your blood on that first day, that I've been fighting with myself since then, was nowhere to be found. I had to stop it. I had to save you. I could't lose you." He was beaming up at me, his eyes glistening with peace. "You must be more magical than I thought."

I laughed, then winced in pain. "Do I taste as good as I smell?" I smiled in response, even that hurt my face.

"Even better — better than I'd imagined."

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

He raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Of all the things to apologize for."

"What should I apologize for?" I asked unaware of what he was referring to.

"For very nearly taking yourself away from me forever."

Oh that. Yeah, that was something I'd need to apologize for.

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry, I didn't think I had a choice." I apologized again.

"I know why you did it." His voice was comforting, his thumb gently running over my gazed knuckles. "It was still irrational, of course. You should have waited for me, you should have told me."

"You wouldn't have let me go."

"No," he agreed in a grim tone, "I wouldn't."

Some more of the very unpleasant memories were beginning to come back to me. I shuddered, and then winced.

He was instantly anxious. "Beau, what's wrong?"

"What happened to him?"

"After I pulled him off you, Emmett and Jasper took care of him—it was a very good thing you'd already started that fire."

There was a fierce note of regret in his voice.

This confused me. "I didn't see Emmett and Jasper there."

"They had to leave the room... there was a lot of blood."

"But you stayed," I said beaming up at him.

"Of course I stayed."

"And Alice, and Carlisle..." I said in wonder.

"They love you, too, you know."

A flash of painful images from the last time I'd seen Alice reminded me of something. "Did Alice see the tape?" I asked anxiously.

"Yes." A new sound darkened his voice, a tone of sheer hatred.

"She was always in the dark, that's why she didn't remember." I remembered what the tracker had told me about her during his gloating. How he'd found her locked away in an asylum, how an ancient vampire had grown found of her, changed her before the tracker could gave her.

"I know. She understands now." His voice was even, but his face was black with fury.

I tried to reach his face with my free hand, but something stopped me. I glanced down to see the IV pulling at my hand.

"Ugh." I winced.

"What is it?" he asked anxiously — distracted, but not enough. The bleakness did not entirely leave his eyes.

"Needles," I explained, looking away from the one in my hand. I concentrated on a warped ceiling tile and tried to breathe deeply despite the ache in my ribs.

"Afraid of a needle," he muttered to himself under his breath, shaking his head. "Oh, a sadistic vampire, intent on torturing him to death, sure, no problem, he runs off to meet him. An IV, on the other hand..."

I rolled my eyes, though I as happy to hear him joking. "I'm so tried of having needles in me," I said offhandedly, not thinking.

His expression reverted back to that of ebony fury, of true loathing. I watched his the muscles in his arms and shoulders tenses, the knuckles on the hand I was not holding clenched tightly. I could feel the anger coming off him, swirling around him like a black fog.

"You know." It wasn't a question, just a factual statement. He knew everything that'd happen back in my sophomore year. The full story, not the very abbreviated one I had given him the last time I'd seen him. "You know everything, don't you."

He turned his head from me, trying to hide the frightening glare that was on his face. He nodded once.

"How?"

He took several moments before speaking. Breathing in and out deeply, calming himself before he would speak.

"We're in the same hospital as you were then," he whispered bitterly. "Dad let his friend, Dr. Sadarangani, know we were bringing you in—your doctor from before." Edward paused again, I could see him reliving each detail he'd learned in his head, imagining it as if they were his own memories. "At first, I though he was just explaining your previous stay here to Dad, to discuss potential treatment plans. But then I realized that he was just remembering the last times he'd seen you, horrified to see you in a similar situation once again.

"His thoughts were…very explicit. All the while he was operating on you, his thoughts were swimming with the memories of before, comparing your current wounds to before, wondering if there'd be additional complications with many of the same bones rebroken…"

He sucked in a breath. "Later while he was talking to Dad again, he thought back to his testimony at the trial. He still wonders if he could've said more, explained things in a more graphic tone to sway the judge in your favor…Alice did a little digging after that. She read what little news articles there were, discovering that those…cretins were dismissed of all charges—immunity granted. She had Em and Jasper do some more digging on their end. They found the paper trail of payoffs and corruption between the judge and one of your assailants' fathers. A little deeper look showed evidence that this had been a repeating pattern between the two."

His voice was still dark and cold. I squeezed the hand that I held as tight as was possible. He returned his gaze to me, his eyes full of sorrow.

"I understand now, what you had meant back in Port Angeles, when you said screaming wouldn't help. And why you were bracing yourself for a fight. When you told me about them before I left you in Forks, I thought maybe they'd been typical high school bullies, perhaps they'd harassed you a little….but I never imagined…how very vile and evil they truly were. All of them. Or how close I'd come to never even having the chance to meet you."

His voice sound like he were crying, but no tears left his eyes. "It all makes sense now," he continued, "your nightmares, why you were so adamant about knowing that I wasn't the villain, that I was good—and why you said you'd met real monsters before…"

I nodded. "I swear I was going to tell you." I took in a large breath, fighting back the painful memories and the emotions that were tied to them. "The day of the baseball game, after Billy and Jacob left—I saw a notification on my Instagram. Someone at school had taken a picture of us, and posted it. They tagged me in it, and Alex saw. He sent me some…threatening messages. That's what Alice had kept you from seeing."

"I don't understand," he whispered painfully. "What made them do that to you?"

This part was both the easiest and hardest to explain. After everything with the tracker, I wasn't sure that describing the attack would cause any negative emotion—I could speak of it as a third party narrator, a report. But the most difficult part would what would come after, because I would need to share with him what Alex's father had said about me in court, the version that was the "official" story—the one that had been made the most public, the one I'd be so terrified of someone discovering back in Forks. That was the part that still bothered me the most. How they'd painted me as the predator, them the prey.

"Alex and Jericho were the star lacrosse players at school. They were a year ahead of me, and they decided to try out for the spring musical. I'm not sure if they did it as a joke, or to add something on college applications, or what, but they got parts. I hadn't really interacted with them much during rehearsals, they were in the ensemble, and I was in the principal cast. Because of how the way most of our rehearsals went I wasn't around them much. They seemed fine, not the type of people I'd want to befriend, but they showed up and took their roles as serious as I'd have expected.

"There was a cast party the night after the last show. Everything was fine, everyone was happy and celebrating a great show and time together. Everything seemed normal. I'd excused myself to use the restroom, and when I opened the door—Alex and Jericho were in there. I caught them making out, they'd snuck a flask in…I apologized, closed the door and returned to the party. When I saw them again, they just kept looking at me, with these very concerned faces.

"I thought they were worried I was going to say something. That I'd out them or something, and I felt so bad. My stomach was in knots for the rest of the evening, and still in the morning when I woke up. That had been a Sunday. Later the same day, I got a text from an unknown number, it was Alex—I think he must've gotten my number from someone else on the cast. His text read as if he were scared, Jericho too. They begged me not to say anything, and I promised them I wouldn't, that I'd never 'out' anyone."

My voice was growing thicker. Though not as horribly as I'd once thought, knowing that I would be describing the next events were not as easy as I'd recently hoped.

"You don't need to finish, Beau," Edward whispered, brushing several locks of hair from in front of my eyes.

I shook my head. "Yes, I do," I said, my voice rich with conviction. "You have told me everything about you, even the parts you didn't want to share, that I pushed you to share, and now it's my turn."

"You need to rest, Love."

"They'd asked me to meet them at the school theater, after the sun went down," I started to explain again, ignoring Edward's protests. "The knots in my stomach just grew tighter, I felt like I was going to throw-up at any moment. But I ignored it, I made myself believe that I was crazy. I told my Dad that I was going to meet friends for dinner—it was only a twenty-minute walk to the school.

"The knots grew tighter, and tighter, it felt like my insides were being yanked by a barbed-wire chain. But I went into that theater. Where I waited. I texted them that I was there, wondering if they were just late. I didn't see the first blow hit me."

Edward's jaw was clenched. He was trying to fight away the fresh rage, attempting to keep his expression soft, understanding, and comforting. But I could feel the black fog returned. I wondered if he were right, if it were better that I not finish. But that was the coward in me speaking. He needed to know, to best understand me, understand why I believed in him so fiercely, why I knew in my soul that he was truly good.

"They beat me, with bats, their fists…they told me they couldn't take any chances that I'd tell anyone what I saw. That their lives and futures would be ruined, and that they had too much to lose. I promised them, after each blow, in-between screams. I promised, and I promised, and I promised, until eventually the pain was too much, and I didn't even have the strength to scream.

"They left me there, on that stage, soaked in a pool of my own blood. I think they thought I was dead, and I think they got scared. They ran out of the theater, by the emergency exit. The door didn't closed. I watched the night sky flash with lightening, and I listened to the rain pour down like the heavens had opened, releasing the floodgates. I just laid there, wondering why it was taking so long to die. My theater teacher found me the next morning. I was rushed here."

Edward's eyes were closed, his lips trembling. I couldn't tell if it was because he was singing to himself like he had in the meadow, if he were cursing my attackers, or if he were desperately trying to hold in his own screams. I gave his hand another squeeze.

"You already know how the trial went. Alex's father is a very successful defense attorney. They painted me as a stalker, someone obsessed with Alex. They said I'd made a move on him at the party, and got mad when he rebuffed me. They painted a pretty ugly picture of me. The incident at the theater was my fault too, according to them. They said I'd been the one to ask for them to come and talk things out. And that I had started the attack—and they had acted in self defense.

"The lawyer my parents' hired wasn't able to get anywhere with the judge. Most of the evidence that proved my side was thrown out as inadmissible. The judge said my mom had intervened in the case, and tampered with evidence. In the end they won. Mom suspected that the judge was paid off. At least now I know he was." I tried to shrug.

Several long minutes past before Edward looked at me. His face looked nearly gaunt, as if what I had described to him had sucked the very essence out of him.

"You have…no idea…how hard—Beau. Beau I want to—"

"I know," I said cutting him off. "You're not the only one. But Edward, promise you that you won't. If you kill them, then you are no better than them. And we both know you are. Don't let Hyde lie to you, and say that you're not."

He laughed humorously. "A few months ago…I wouldn't have believed you. But you," he looked at me in a way he hadn't before. I was stunned and rendered speechless by the look of love and devotion. It was the look of a blind man seeing the sun for the very first time, a mute hearing the symphony of the world's most beautiful song, a lame running through the sand and into the bluest waters of the ocean. "I have been irrevocably changed by you, Beaufort Swan."

I smiled, tears of joy well into my eyes and fell down my face. He sighed heavily, a the briefest look of guilt flashed into the warmth that was there before.

"What?" I inquired, suspicious, knowing that he was hiding something. He looked at me remorsefully.

"I didn't do anything, to any of them," he began. The monitor watching my heartbeats began to grow louder. Edward began explaining swiftly, in an attempt to calm my anxiety.

"They're not dead, Beau," he assured, and I could not deny the honesty in his voice. "But they will never hurt you again."

"What do you mean?" My voice sounded wearier than it had before.

"I didn't do anything. Rosalie did."

"Rosalie?"

"I didn't ask him to, I wouldn't have ever considered it, but Emmett—he made her read everything. The articles, the hidden files, the doctors's reports, every secret transaction."

All this sounded like a severe invasion of privacy, and more highly illegal, more so than it already was. That wasn't what bothered me. I was more embrassed than anything. Why did Rosalie care, when I'd last seen her, she hadn't cared if I'd lived or died. And I had yelled at her.

"Why did he show Rosalie? Why would she—"

"You and Rosalie…have far more more in common than she would care to admit. All you need to know, is that after she read everything, she got on the first flight out. She delivered the files personally to the District Attorney. As it stands a thorough and deep investigation have started. All of them, Alex, Jericho, Alex's father, and the judge have been arrested and indicted on numerous federal charges. Bail has been denied. When Rosalie was done here, she drove your truck back to Forks. It's waiting for you at your house. She has asked for me to tell you that she apologizes, for how she judged you."

My mind was swimming. I was having trouble comprehending everything that he had just said. They were all arrested. The District Attorney had every shred of evidence of their corruption. I could see the news stories already breaking. Eventually my name would be cleared. Alex, his father and Jericho would never be able to bother me again. I was free. I felt the heavy weight of that knowledge lifted off my chest. I was still confused, as to why Rosalie, of all people, had cared though. Even more confused by what Edward had said, that we'd have 'far more in common than she would care to admit.' That was too much to pounder at the moment. And I didn't feel that it was Edward's place to elaborate.

I decided to change the subject. "Why are you here?" I asked.

He stared at me, first confusion and then hurt touching his eyes. His brows pulled together as he frowned.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" I protested, horrified by the thought. "No, you beautiful moron. I meant, why do my parents think you're here? I need to have my story straight before they gets back."

"Oh," he said, and his forehead smoothed back into marble, and he smiled, relieved. "I came to Phoenix to talk some sense into you. You'd called me to tell my why you'd left. I came to convince you to come back to Forks, that it wasn't safe to confront them." His wide eyes were so earnest and sincere, I almost believed him myself. "You agreed to see me, and you drove out to the hotel where I was staying with Dad and Alice — of course I was here with parental supervision," he inserted virtuously, "but you tripped on the stairs on the way to my room and... well, you know the rest. You don't need to remember any details, though; you have a good excuse to be a little muddled about the finer points."

I thought about it for a moment. "There are a few flaws with that story. Like no broken windows."

"Not really," he said. I stared back at him wide eyed, and disapproving. "Alice had a little bit too much fun fabricating evidence. It's all been taken care of very convincingly — you could probably sue the hotel if you wanted to. You have nothing to worry about," he promised, stroking my cheek with the lightest of touches. "Your only job now is to heal."

I wasn't so lost to the soreness or the fog of medication that I didn't respond to his kiss. The beeping of the monitor jumped around erratically — now he wasn't the only one who could hear my heart misbehave.

"That's going to be embarrassing," I muttered to myself.

He chuckled, and a speculative look came into his eye. "Hmm, I wonder..."

He leaned in slowly; the beeping noise accelerated wildly before his lips crashed against mine once more. But when they did, though with more force than I could ever remember, the beeping stopped altogether.

He pulled back abruptly, his anxious expression turning to relief as the monitor reported the restarting of my heart.

"It seems that I'm going to have to be even more careful with you than I'd like." He frowned.

"I was not finished kissing you," I complained. "Don't make me come over there."

"Yes, sir," he grinned, and bent to press his lips forcefully to mine. My tongue slide across his tantalizing and intoxicating lips. I felt his chilled, wonderful breath sweep into my mouth. My hand intwined in his head, nearly ripping the IV out.

"Beau," he moaned.

"Darling," I smiled. The monitor went wild.

But then his lips were taut. He pulled away.

"I think I hear your parents," he said, grinning again.

"Don't leave me," I cried, an irrational surge of panic flooding through me. I couldn't let him go — he might disappear from me again.

He read the terror in my eyes for a short second. "I won't," he promised solemnly, and then he smiled. "I'll take a nap."

He moved from the hard plastic chair by my side to the turquoise faux-leather recliner at the foot of my bed, leaning it all the way back, and closing his eyes. He was perfectly still.

"Don't forget to breathe," I whispered sarcastically. He took a deep breath, his eyes still closed. "Show off," I muttered.

I could hear my parents now. They were talking to each other, pleasantly with one another, and someone else, maybe a nurse; they both sounded tired and concealing their upset. I wanted to jump out of the bed and run to them, to calm them, promise that everything was fine. But I wasn't in any sort of shape for jumping, so I waited impatiently.

The door opened a crack, and my mom was the first to peeked through. "Mom!" I whispered, my voice full of love and relief.

She took in Edward's still form on the recliner, and rushed towards me, my father not far behind her. The each knelt down on my bedside.

"Beau," my mother cried, placing her hands on either side of my face. Tears of joy fell down her face, as did my father. He clasped a hand over his mouth.

"You're awake," my father cried. "Oh thank God."

"Mom, Dad," I whimpered. They reached touched me, carefully, just as they had the last time. Their relief and joy radiated all over the room. I'd noticed the nurse, the same nurse who'd overseen me the last time, watching through the doorway. My mom turned her head to Edward, watching him as he pretended to sleep.

"He never leaves, does he?" she mumbled to no one.

"Mom, Dad I'm so sorry you had to come."

My mother scowled at me gently, before reaching to hug me softly, and I felt warm tears falling on my cheeks. "Don't be silly. Beau, I was so scared."

"I'm sorry, Mom. But everything's fine now, it's okay," I comforted her.

"Sweetie, I'm just so glad to finally see your eyes open." She moved her now to sit on the edge of my bed, my father sat beside her, his body positioned just so that he wasn't touching her.

"Dad, how's Loretta? You should be with her."

"Loretta is fine. She and the baby are doing just great. She won't let him come until you'er out of here."

I laughed painfully. "I'm not sure that's how it works." I suddenly realized I didn't have any idea when it was. "How long have I been out?"

"It's Sunday, bud, you've been out for a while." My father responded.

"Sunday?" I was shocked. I tried to remember what day it had been when... but I didn't want to think about that. Tuesday, Wednesday?

"They had to keep you sedated for a while, baby— you've got a lot of injuries." My mother cooed as she ran a hand through my hair.

"I know." I could feel them.

"You're lucky Dr. Cullen was there. He's such an amazing man... very young, though. And he looks more like a model than a doctor…" My father began.

"You met Carlisle?"

"And Edward's sister Alice. She's a lovely girl." My father's voice was guarded.

"They are," I agreed wholeheartedly.

Both my parents glanced over my shoulder at Edward, lying with his eyes closed in the chair, before staring back at me, their eyes filled with concern.

"You didn't tell me you had such good friends in Forks," my father accused.

I cringed, and then moaned.

"What hurts?" my mother demanded anxiously, turning back to me. Edward's eyes flashed to my face.

"It's fine," I assured them. "I just have to remember not to move." Edward lapsed back into his phony slumber.

I took advantage of my parent's momentary distraction to keep them subject from returning to my less-than-candid behavior. "How's Loretta?" I asked again, quickly.

"She's amazing," my father reassured. "She's stubborn…we've finally decided on names. For a boy, or a girl…your step-mother is sure its a boy. That's why we painted the dinosaurs in the room. I learned a long time ago to not disagree with her…"

I smiled.

"I'm glad to hear that, Dad." I added with a smile.

"And you'll like Westernville, so much," he gushed while I stared at him vacantly. "I was a little bit worried, when Lore started talking about moving to her home town, even with everything that had happened here. But Westerville! It's always sunny, Beau. And there's really no humidity—and it really isn't that bad when there is. We have an amazing house, yellow, with white trim, and a porch just like in an old movie, and this huge oak tree! I'm going to put a swing up in it. And it's just a few minutes from the ocean, and you'll have your own bathroom—when you come to visit."

"Sounds like it will be a great time. I can't wait to be a bad influence on my baby brother." My tone was only slightly joking. Edward still had his eyes closed, but he looked too tense to pass as asleep. Was he worried I'd considered moving back there? "I'll have to come visit for a couple weeks in summer. Help you and Loretta with the little guy." I had stressed the word visit.

"We'd love that," my father whispered, smiling.

I turned to look at my mom. "Mom." I hesitated, wondering how best to be begin adequately apologizing. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I left, and with just a note. I don't know what came over me. I got those messages and I just…I just snapped.

My mother's face was serious. "Don't worry about that now. I understand." Her face suddenly lifted. "There's been…some developments while you've been out. We were right, Beau," she said smiling, vindicated. "MaCoy paid off the judge. I had the page you left with me—but before I could get to the local police station here, they'd all been arrested. Someone gave the District Attorney a folder of evidence, showing years of pay offs and corrupt dealings…Sweetie, they'll never be able to hurt you again. We won. Finally". I returned her smile.

"We can finally put it all behind us, Bud," my father assured. "You're safe."

"I know," I responded, believing for the first time in over a year that my woes were finished. Before me lay only a road of unlimited bliss.

My father turned his head over his shoulder, looking at Edward as he continued to pretend sleeping.

"So, this boy?" he began, the phantom of a smile on his face. "Why am I just now finding out about him."

"It's kinda a new thing," I said laughing.

"Is he why you've adjusted so well to the small town life?"

I opened my mouth to lie, but his eyes were scrutinizing my face, and I knew he would see through that.

"He's been a big part of it," I admitted.

"I thought you said it was a new thing?"

"I've had a crush on him for awhile," I answered. "So, have you had a chance to talk with Edward?" I asked.

"Yes." He hesitated, looking back at his perfectly still form, before turning back. He and my mother shared a look. "And your mother and I want to talk to you about that."

Shit. "What about?" I asked, my voice guarded.

"Bud, I…your mother and I think that boy is in love with you," my father accused, keeping his voice low.

"I think so, too," I confided, not able to conceal my smile.

"And how do you feel about him?" My father only poorly concealed the raging curiosity in his voice.

I sighed, looking away. I'd been lying, so much recently, and I knew that I could not provide them the full story—or share with them everything that there was to share, but I would be honest with them, as much as I could. "Well…I'm not ready to book a venue or anything," the smile on my face growing wider. For the faintest of moments, I saw another imagine, a vision; just as the last time the setting was, but I saw clearly myself in white marching steadily towards Edward, each of our parents guiding us, before our hands were joined…I blinked, and the vision was gone but my smile remained. "But I do love him. With him I'm beginning to feel whole again." Even to myself it sounded horrible cliche — that same thing any teenager with his first boyfriend might say. My parents shared a worried glance.

"Well, he seems very nice, and, he is incredibly handsome," my mother began, "but you're so young, Beau..." Her voice was unsure; the voice of a mother worried that her son would follow in her footsteps, would make a rash decision without thinking it all the way through, a decision that he may one day regret. I recognized the reasonable-but-firm tone of voice from each of them. They had a right to worry, that was part of being a parent. And I was helpless to alleve their concerns. I knew, if he asked, I'd married him the moment we graduated. It was a foolish hope, a hormonal and naive fancy.

"Mom, Dad.…don't worry about it. You're not walking me down the aisle just yet. Besides—we're just seventeen," I soothed them.

It was my mother who smiled, my father shook his head.

"That's right, 'just seventeen,'" my mother repeated. Her eyes met mine, and I could feel the emotions that encompassed her. She saw through my breezy explanation. She knew, how I felt. And that concerned her, more than she even understood.

Then my father sighed and glanced guiltily at the watch he wore on his wrist.

"You need to call, Loretta," I said knowingly.

"I forgot that you could read my mind," he said with a laugh. "She wanted me to call the moment you were awake. She's been going to the church everyday, praying. She'll be so relieved you're up. She's been worried sick."

"Go call her," I demanded, almost upset. I didn't like the fact that she had been so worried about me, she should have been more concerned about herself and the baby.

My father nodded. He pressed his lips to the temple of my head before making his departure.

Mom stayed with me. Her eyes were exhausted, the same purple rings that always encircled the Cullens' eyes were wrapped under her's.

"You haven't slept since you got here," I accused,

"I haven't slept since you ran off," she responded, glaring at me jokingly.

"I'm sorry," I added guilty.

"I couldn't leave my baby," she soothed, running her hand gently down my face. "I'm just thankful that you're okay, Sweetheart, and that you're awake, alive."

"I promise to warn you the next time I run off."

"There'd better not be a next time," she warned, suddenly serious.

Deep down, I knew I couldn't promise that as I glanced towards Edward.

"You need to sleep. You're owed a good twenty-four hour rest."

"Alice has been saying the same thing. She's been following me around, waiting for me to drop…she's hilarious. She just keeps looking at me, like she's waiting for me to fall in her arms. Poor girl probably couldn't hold me up."

I laughed, amused by my mother's ignorance.

"Do you have a hotel room?"

"I've been sleeping here. Carlisle asked the staff if I could stay in one of their rest rooms. They were nice enough to accept. Edward and I have been taking shifts in that chair," she explained, jutting her head towards the place where Edward pretended to sleep. She sigh deeply. "He really loves you, you know I've never seen anyone so committed. I don't think he's left once." Her voice was not as accusing as my father's had been, but more in a tone of wonder.

"Did you tell, Dad, that?"

My mother shook her head. "No. Your father is worried enough." She suddenly looked guilty. "I'm worried too, Beau. I wasn't much older than you when I met your father…"

"Mom," I said, grabbing her hand. Her eyes met mine, and I could read her fears as if she spoke them. "You can trust him. You can trust me."

"I know. I also know history likes to repeat itself."

My mother's phone chimed in her pocket before I could respond. She pulled it out, distracted. She smiled.

"Sean?" I asked with a smile.

She nodded. "He's been asking for constant updates. Him, Billy and Jacob."

I stiffed, worried if Billy had told her anything. Her thumb was flying across the screen.

"They'll be so relieved that you're awake. Sean was ready to drive down."

"So I take it the date went well?"

"Very," she nodded.

I smiled. "Has he asked you out again?'"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Detective Swan. He did-before you up and ran off Dirty Harry style." Her voice was a strange combination of accusation and joking.

"Good."

My mother yawned.

"Go to Alice's room. Sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

She shook her head. "I'm fine," she lied.

"Mom," I said gripping her hand tightly, ignoring the pain, "go sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

She smiled, her eyes full of happiness. "Even to Westerville?"

"Especially not to Westernville. I told you in that note. I should've moved in with you years ago." And I meant it.

My mother gently caressed my cheek. She kissed the top of my head, promising me that she'd be back early in the morning. I begged her to sleep in.

"I love you, Mom," I told her.

"More than my luggage," she added, quoting one of her favorite movies. She turned the lights out in my room as she left.

Edward's eyes stayed closed, but a wide grin flashed across his face.

A nurse came bustling in then to check all my tubes and wires. She reintroduced herself, she had been one of the nursed who helped me the last time. Afterwards she busied herself, checking the paper readout on my heart monitor.

"Are you feeling anxious, honey? Your heart rate got a little high there."

"I'm fine," I assured her.

"I'll tell your RN that you're awake. She'll be in to see you in a minute." As soon as she closed the door, Edward was at my side.

"How was your nap?" I asked.

"Interesting." His eyes narrowed.

"What?"

He looked down while he answered, sheepishly. "I'm surprised. I thought maybe... maybe your father's description of Westernville would have sold you…well, I was worried you'd want to move there."

I stared at him uncomprehendingly. "I would thought you'd know better than that."

"Small-town life has really had that much of an impact on you?"

"It's nice. It's simple…when one isn't being chased down by a serial killer." He laughed.

"I suppose."

"Besides, I'm kinda seeing this amazing guy back home. My parents think he's 'in-love' with me." I added playfully.

Edward nodded. "From the sounds of it, I think that 'amazing guy' just may be. Maybe even crazy about you." He was back at my side, sitting beside me. His cool hand wrapped in mine.

"I'm pretty crazy about him, myself."

"He's a lucky man."

"I think I'm the lucky one."

"We shall agreed to disagreed?"

"Agreed," I responded with a smile.

Underneath the joy he felt, I could sense the uncertainty and fret beneath Edward's composure.

"What it is, Hyde lying to you about?" My voice was knowing.

He smiled, chuckling. "Lots of things," he admitted sheepishly. "He tells me that I am responsible for all this.". I continued to stare at him blankly as the words one by one clicked into place in my head like a ghastly puzzle. I grew anxious at what he would say, I was barely conscious of the sound of my heart accelerating, though, as my breathing became hyperventilation, I was aware of the sharp aching in my protesting ribs. I waited. Edward continued without fulling meeting my eyes.

"Hyde, he tells me that I am a danger to you. That I have constantly put your life at risk, with my being around you. He tells me as always that I am a monster…that I am not worthy of you, much less your love. He tells me that you're here, laying in this hospital bed because of me. He whispers that you're better off whiteout me." He sighed heavily, running a hand through his auburn hair. "But…Edward" he said smiling, finally fully meeting my eyes, "he now believes better."

I smiled back, rubbing his head with my thumb.

"I'm glad that Edward is the voice of reason."

"As am I," he responded, leaning in. He paused. "What you said…about 'booking a venue'."

"I'm sorry about that," I responded, shaking my head, "Teenage hormones."

"I liked it," I could hear the smile in his voice.

"We're just seventeen," I reminded, halfheartedly.

"Let us be seventeen," he sang, his voice milked honey. I smiled wider, knowing the exact musical and song he had selected.

"If we still got the right," I sang back. "So what's it gonna be? I wanna be with you," I sang with intent and emotion.

"I wanna be with you."

"Wanna be with you—all nights."

Edward pressed his forehead to mine. "Yeah, we're damaged."

"Badly damaged," I sang aggringly.

"But your love's too good loose," we sang together, somehow in perfect harmony.

"Hold me tighter," he sang softly.

"Even closer."

We both took a deep breath. "I'll stay if I'm what you choose."

Edward whispered. "Can't we be seventeen."

"If I am what you choose."

"If we still go the right."

"Cause you're the one I choose."

"You're the one I choose."

"You're the one I choose," our voices ending in perfect sync.

He kissed me, deeply, ignoring the sound of my heart monitor.

"I love you, Beau Swan."

"I love you more, Edward Cullen." I panted.

"I'm going to marry you someday."

The monitor was horribly alive. But I didn't care. I was too busy smiling up at him. And then another nurse walked purposefully into the room. Edward sat still as stone as she took in my expression with a practiced eye before turning to the monitors.

"Time for more pain meds, sweetheart?" she asked kindly, tapping the IV feed.

"No, no," I mumbled, trying to keep the ecstasy from my voice, overjoy still by the words that had left Edward's mouth. "I don't need anything." I couldn't afford to close my eyes now.

"No need to be brave again, honey. It's better if you don't get too stressed out; you need to rest." She waited, but I just shook my head, still smiling.

"Okay," she sighed. "Hit the call button when you're ready." She gave Edward a stern look, and threw one more anxious glance at the machinery, before leaving. His cool hands were on my face; I stared at him with wild eyes.

"You should sleep now, Love."

"I don't want to sleep" I begged in a broken voice. "I don't this moment to end."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised. "There will be countless more moments sweeter than this. Now relax before I call the nurse back to sedate you."

But my heart couldn't slow.

"Beau." He stroked my face anxiously. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here. Forever."

"Do you swear you won't leave me?" I whispered. I tried to control the gasping, at least. My ribs were throbbing.

He was smiling. He put his hands on either side of my face and brought his face close to mine. His eyes were wide and serious.

"I swear."

The smell of his breath was soothing. It seemed to ease the ache of my breathing. He continued to hold my gaze while my body slowly relaxed and the beeping returned to a normal pace. His eyes were dark, closer to black than gold today.

"Will you sleep now, my brave idiot?" he asked.

"Maybe," I said cautiously.

He shook his head and muttered something unintelligible. I thought I picked out the word "overreaction."

"This was what? The fourth time you've had to save my life?" I whispered, trying to keep my voice from breaking with joy. My mind began to wonder, despite the thrill of his words, I was worried about one thing, deep down. And bothered but my current state, but not for the reason I should be. With nothing between us, I decided to ask him a question I had been dreading. "Are you tired of having to save me all the time? Are you tired me always being a damsel in distressed?"

He looked at me as if I were absurd. "I believe that this was only the third. And no, I don't mind having to be the Superman who has to sweep you off your feet."

"Promise me," I whispered.

"What?" he asked warily.

"That you'll be the one who changes me," I whispered back.

"What?" His voice was suddenly guarded.

I felt my face scrunch up, as if it were obvious what I was referring to. "Promise me, you'll be the one to turn me into a vampire. I still don't understand."

"Understand what, Love?"

"Why you did it. Why didn't you just let the venom spread? By now I would be just like you."

Edward's eyes seemed to turn flat black, and I remembered that this was something he'd never intended me to know. Alice must have been preoccupied by the things she'd learned about herself... or she'd been very careful with her thoughts around him — clearly, he'd had no idea that she'd filled me in on the mechanics of vampire conversions. He was surprised, and infuriated. His nostrils flared, his mouth looked as if it was chiseled from stone. He wasn't going to answer, that much was clear.

"I'll be the first to admit that I have no experience with relationships," I said. "But it just seems logical... a man and his man have to be somewhat equal... as in, one of them can't always be swooping in and saving the other one. Superman or not. They have to save each other equally."

He folded his arms on the side of my bed and rested his chin on his arms. His expression was smooth, the anger reined in. Evidently he'd decided he wasn't angry with me. I hoped I'd get a chance to warn Alice before he caught up with her.

"You have saved me," he said quietly. "I thought I'd made that painfully obvious."

"I can't always be Lois Lane or MJ…Gwen Stacy," I trailed on. "I want to be the superhero, too."

"I'm not sure you know what you're asking." His voice was soft; he stared intently at the edge of the pillowcase.

"I think I do."

"Beau, you don't know. I've had over a hundred years to think about this, and I'm still not sure."

"Do you wish that Carlisle hadn't saved you?"

"No, I don't wish that." He paused before continuing. "But my life was over. I wasn't giving anything up."

"I just admitted to my parents that I'm already thinking of marrying you. You are my life. You're the only thing it would hurt me to lose." I was getting better at this. It was easy to admit how much I needed him. It must have been the medication.

"You admitted that you loved me, but weren't ready to book a venue," he reminded me. He was very calm, though. Decided. "Love," he whispered delicately, "you need to think about what you're asking. Seriously. It's more complicated than you think. Right now, I don't think I could even-I wouldn't. Not now."

The medication was making me more irritable than he could be. My words came out louder than I'd meant them to be. "Don't tell me it's too hard! After today, or I guess it was a few days ago... anyway, after that, it should be nothing."

He smiled down at me.

"And the pain?" he asked.

I blanched. I couldn't help it. But I tried to keep my expression from showing how clearly I remembered the feeling... the fire in my veins.

"That's my problem," I said. "I can handle it."

"It's possible to take bravery to the point where it becomes insanity."

"It's not an issue. Three days. Big deal. I've always been obsessed with witch trials. I've always wondered what it would feel like to be burned at the stake".

Edward grimaced again as my words reminded him that I was more informed than he had ever intended me to be. I watched him repress the anger, watched as his eyes grew speculative.

"Your father, Loretta, the new baby?" he asked curtly. "Your mother?"

Minutes passed in silence as I struggled to answer his question. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I closed it again. He waited, and his expression became triumphant because he knew I had no true answer.

"Look, that's not an issue either," I finally muttered; my voice was as unconvincing as it always was when I lied. "Neither one of my parents look their age. They'd easily pass for my older siblings—and don't deny it. I know you've read the minds of everyone around here. I have good genes, I'll remind them of that, and then I'll be able to pass for someone older than what they look—especially with my skin care routine. My father has always made the choices that work for him— he'd want me to do the same. And my mom is resilient, she'll be fine—we'll only have to tell them the 'need-to-know.' It doesn't have to be goodbye. Besides, I can't take care of them forever. I have my own life to live."

Edward groaned. "Beau. There's more to it than that. Sacrifices you've not even begin to comprehend, " he warned. "Things you've not thought of to give up. Selfish as I am, I don't want you to give up those things…now without thinking of them first."

"If you're waiting for me to be on my deathbed, I've got news for you! I was just there!"

"You're going to recover," he reminded me.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, ignoring the spasm of pain it triggered. I stared at him, and he stared back. There was no compromise in his face.

"No," I said slowly. "I'm not."

His forehead creased. "Of course you are. You may have a scar or two..."

"You're wrong," I insisted. "I'm going to die."

"Really, Beau." He was anxious now. "You'll be out of here in a few days...two weeks at most."

I glared at him. "I may not die now... but I'm going to die sometime. Every minute of the day, I get closer. And I'm going to get old."

He frowned as what I was saying sunk in, pressing his long fingers to his temples and closing his eyes. "That's how it's supposed to happen. How it should happen. How it would have happened if I didn't exist — and I shouldn't exist."

I snorted. He opened his eyes in surprise. "That's really stupid. That's like going to someone who's just won the lottery, taking their money, and saying, 'Look, let's just go back to how things should be. It's better that way.' And I'm not buying it."

"An eternity of bloodlust," he growled. "That sounds like a pleasant prize." He rolled his eyes and set his lips. "Beau, we're not having this discussion right now. You're tired, you're healing. I…I have only very recently begin to consider that I truly have a soul. And I've only begun to consider that, because only someone as magical, as enchanting, as bewitching as you, someone with such an immaculately beautiful soul, could not possibly love someone who was without one. But, Love, being one of my kind is…it's not a life many would choose if they had the full knowledge of what I took. I want you, for you, for your family, to fully consider what it would mean to join me, and my family…as one of us. And all the things you'd be throwing away. You don't get older—you don't get another chance to be human. Or being normal."

"Being normal is vastly overrate," I reminded him. He scowled at me. "And I have considered it. Considered everything. Everything I would have to give up. And they're all worth it. Because I get to spend forever with you.

"You don't know what you're asking—not fully…you'd make such a great husband and father."

I ignored his words, not letting myself dwell on his last two words. He didn't need to know how true those words stung me, he didn't know the hidden dream I had—of a family of my own. I'd make myself forget that, he would be enough. "You're not the only vampire I know."

His eyes went black again. "Alice wouldn't dare."

And for a moment he looked so frightening that I couldn't help but believe it — I couldn't imagine someone brave enough to cross him. "Alice already saw it, didn't she?" I guessed. "That's why the things she says upset you. She knows I'm going to be like you... someday."

"Her vision are subjective, if you remember. She also saw you dead, but that didn't happen, either."

"You'll never catch me betting against Alice."

We stared at each other for a very long time. It was quiet except for the whirring of the machines, the beeping, the dripping, the ticking of the big clock on the wall. Finally, his expression softened.

"I love, Beau. And I am selfish enough to admit that I want you. Forever. But I also want you to consider everything. I want you to have time…time to understand all the sacrifices you'll be making. There is still so much more than you understand."

"So where does that leave us?" I wondered.

He chuckled humorlessly. "I believe it's called an impasse."

I sighed. "Ouch," I muttered.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, eyeing the button for the nurse.

"I'm fine," I lied.

"I don't believe you," he said gently.

"I'm not going back to sleep."

"You need rest. All this arguing isn't good for you."

"So give in," I hinted.

"Ha. Nice try." He reached for the button.

"No!"

He ignored me. Pressing the call button.

"Yes?" the speaker on the wall squawked.

"I think we're ready for more pain medication," he said calmly, ignoring my furious expression.

"I'll send in the nurse." The voice sounded very bored.

"I won't take it," I promised.

He looked toward the sack of fluids hanging beside my bed. "I don't think they're going to ask you to swallow anything."

My heart rate started to climb. He read the fear in my eyes, and sighed in frustration.

"Love, you're in pain. You need to relax so you can heal. Why are you being so difficult? They're not going to put any more needles in you now."

"I'm not afraid of the needles," I mumbled. "I'm afraid to close my eyes. I'm afraid you'll leave."

Then he smiled his crooked smile, and took my face between his hands. "I told you I'm not going anywhere. Don't be afraid. As long as it makes you happy, I'll be here. I love you, remember? You've changed me."

I smiled back, ignoring the ache in my cheeks. "You're talking about forever, you know."

"Oh, deep down I am counting on it. I just need to you to have time to consider—I need you to be certain. And once you are…"

I shook my head in disbelief— it made me dizzy. "I was shocked when my mom didn't dwell on what I said about booking a wedding venue. She hates young marriages—I thought maybe she'd know what I was imagining. I know you know better."

"What were you imaging? I have no clue."

"I was envisioning marrying you," I said shamelessly.

"And how was that imagine?" he asked me. "Did we have a big cake?"

My eyes narrowed. "It was wonderful—didn't see the cake. Just saw us. I was actually wearing white."

"Now I know that's a fantasy." He was laughing when the nurse came in, brandishing a syringe.

"Excuse me," she said brusquely to Edward. He got up and crossed to his arms, holding his breath reflectively. His gaze met mine calmly.

"Here you go, honey." The nurse smiled as she injected the medicine into my tube. "You'll feel better now."

"Thanks," I mumbled, unenthusiastic. It didn't take long. I could feel the drowsiness trickling through my bloodstream almost immediately.

"That ought to do it," she muttered as my eyelids drooped.

"Thank you," Edward murmured.

She must have left the room, because something cold and smooth touched my face.

"Stay." The word was slurred.

"I will," he promised. His voice was beautiful, like a lullaby. "Like I said, as long as it makes you happy…," I could register that his voice was giddy. "As long as we both shall live." He laughed. "Don't worry, now my Love. I shall be with you for always." I could feel his lips at my ear. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you more, Darling."

Another imagine, as suddenly and vivid as the last. Edward, smiling brighter than I'd ever seen, a small, black-haired child in his arms, looking up at him with admiration and love.

"Edward," I sighed as unconsciousness began to swarm me.

"Yes, Love?"

"You'll make a great husband and father, too."

I could hear him laugh. "Go to sleep my love. You're becoming delusional."

"No I'm not," I defended. "I just know…it's a gut feeling."

"I'm sure," he laughed quietly.

I turned my head slightly... searching. He knew what I was after. His lips touched mine gently.

"Thanks," I sighed.

"Always."

I wasn't really there at all anymore. But I fought against the stupor weakly. There was just one more thing I wanted to tell him.

"Edward?" I struggled to pronounce his name clearly.

"Yes?"

"I'm betting on Alice," I mumbled.

And then the night closed over me.