Please don't be watching

"Make love?" Bella repeated. Everything in her stomach curdled, threatening reappearance.

"Yes," Jun nodded solemnly.

Victoria was so sick, Bella didn't even have words for what'd she'd done.

"Jun," she said, voice distorted with emotion, "she hates Edward. She wants him dead, or me, or both. Can you not see how this is—"

"Bella," Jun said, shaking his head. "They're the only vampires you've ever known. They could just as easily have twisted things for you. Don't you think, that I would know, having been changed, what's involved?"

Bella cringed, realizing what this would have meant. When she found her voice, she tried for as calm a tone as she could manage. "Jun, I trust them—"

"Why? They left you, Bella. And if they thought Victoria was a threat, what the hell kind of friends are they, leaving you with a vampire after you?"

"They thought—"

"They thought they'd screw with you nine ways to Sunday. Like how they signed that complaint."

"What do you mean?" She stared at him.

"They signed the complaint. She showed it to me."

"No, Jun, they—she must—"

"No."

She'd stood, backing away, head shaking, hands working over her upper arms, and then he was suddenly there, his icy palms holding her cheeks. She stopped, terrified by what any strong emotion might wring from his fingers.

"It's going to be OK," he said, and kissed her forehead.

God, Alice, please be watching.

She had to delay him. Somehow.

Give Edward time.

Then Jun leaned back and chuckled.

It threw her, hearing it. She knew newborn Vampires were unpredictable. Emotional. So she said nothing, watching carefully.

"I'm going to guess you didn't even stretch, did you?"

The minute head shake she gave seemed to amuse him.

"Why don't I rub your back?" he asked softly. "We have some time."

And she needed to make it stretch as far as she could.

"OK."

"Here," he said, pointing back to the bedroom she'd changed in. She tensed, and he said softly, "I'm just going to rub your back, Bella."

She followed him, and he pulled things out of the cupboards, setting a sheet down. "Put that over you and let me know when you're ready." He closed the door, and she slipped the robe down to her waist, laying down, sheet over her. She felt like a corpse.

And she might just be one soon.

"Ready?"

"Yes." It was whispered.

He'd warmed his hands somehow, and they felt slippery with some sort of oil. A familiar smell, but not one she could quite place.

"Still tense as anything," he said easily.

His hands, so powerful before, were deadly now, and when she gasped at the pressure, he backed off some. She knew, if she lived, that she would be purple by the next day, but said nothing, terrified it would only hasten what she needed delayed.

He worked for some time, silently, finally loosening the robe and shoving it out of the way as he moved down to her legs.

"It's OK," he said, feeling her nervousness. "Just a massage, Bella."

She understood, and tried to let her muscles relax into the brutal working of his fingers. His touch had lightened further, but not enough for her to let her guard down.

Finally, he set the sheet over her again, "I think you're good."

She felt loose, but not in the way she expected. Her hands were slow and uncoordinated, and her head spun. "Whoa," she mumbled, struggling to get the robe back on.

"Feeling it, hey?" he asked, watching.

"Feeling what?" she squinted at him. The air warbled around him. She must be more tired than she realized.

"The oil," he said, wiping his hands on a towel. "I thought you'd recognize the smell."

Her head shake made her brain feel like it was on a see-saw.

"You seemed to react to it well, that time," he murmured.

Her look was thoroughly confused, thoughts loose, flying away.

"Cannabis oil," he said softly. "To help you relax."

"You...drugged me?"

"I told you I'd make this as easy as possible."

She swallowed, throat feeling abruptly too dry.

"Please Jun," she whispered, "I don't want this. Please don't—"

"It's OK," he said, sitting down on the bed with her, pulling her close. "You'll be OK. We can be together, Bella. And it's so much better—clearer after."

He murmured on, his touch careful, but not gentle, as he smoothed her hair from her face, and tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

Her control and logic were so loosened, as to be mere, floating suggestions. Things to be snatched at, and missed with the loss of any meaningful focus.

When he pulled out a set of syringes though, she mustered enough panic to stand and move away, stumbling backwards out of the room.

He caught her easily, then letting her go, not wanting to frighten her any more than she was.

"We need to start, Bella, soon. She promised she would run interference, but we don't have forever."

Good, she thought.

"This'll make it so it doesn't hurt."

She kept backing away, but then felt the dizzying grip of his movement, and he had her back on the bed.

"No!" she pushed out, feeling his hand on her arm.

He ignored her, holding her arm steady as he slid the robe sleeve aside, wiping down the site with alcohol.

She was rigid with fear.

"Relax your arm, Bella. I don't want the needle to break."

"No!" she said, tensing it even more.

"Fine," he muttered, and then flipped her onto her side, jabbing the needle into the curve of her buttock.

She choked out a cry, knowing herself defeated, finally succumbing to the terror of what was coming.

"You're OK," he said, picking her up, stroking her hair. "I know you're scared. I'll be here, and make sure you're safe."

Then he leaned in and kissed her.

Hands at his head, she tried pushing him away, a muffled "no" lost between their lips.

Whatever he'd given her spread quickly, and her movements slowed, sluggish and then dulled to nothing.

After laying her back on the bed, he kept kissing her motionless form, and she felt the robe slide open, then be pulled entirely off.

Her last, cogent thought, was: Alice, please don't be watching.

~ 0 ~

"What do you mean?" Charlie said into the phone, the blood draining out of his face.

Jacob and Billy looked on, eyebrows furrowed in mirroring, worried expressions.

"Well, is she OK?"

Then Charlie swallowed, and sat down. "OK," he said, nodding, as if trying to accept something. His voice broke. "OK."

He hung up the phone, and whispered, like a man in shock might, "I gotta go."

"What is it?" Billy asked.

"Bella," Charlie said, "she's been in an accident."

The colour slid out of Jacob's face, and he closed his eyes.

Without any more explanation, Charlie picked up his keys, and walked out of his front door.

~ 0 ~

"Stop blaming yourself," Alice whispered to Edward. "She made her choice. This is not your fault."

Edward's doubting and derisive sound was made somewhere in his throat. It sounded half choked.

"You told me yourself, Edward."

"It doesn't exactly lessen this, Alice."

"I know," she whispered.

They looked at Bella's still form on the bed, and resigned themselves to waiting.

A/N for 2018-07-21: I know. Another cliff. Working as faaaast as I can...

~ Erin

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.