All stuff packed and prepared, I decided to do one more thing: to meet up with Angie, have her show me Bree's grave and try to contact her.
The freeze has passed; it was still chilly, but the ground has lost its icy cover and the grass was again green, the grass of spring. Mellowing, the wind turned to a breeze after clearing the sky; now it was only fresh instead of cutting. I decided to take a walk there. I had a headache and I had a lot to think about.
As I got to the cemetery, Angie called she'll come a bit late, her grandma unexpectedly stopped by and she can't leave.
Lingering for a moment by Edward's cousin's grave, noting the fresh lilies there, I looked around at the rows and rows of tombstones.
In the end I found it.
Bree was not cremated – good. Somehow when there are actual remains, it tends to be easier for me to strike up a connection. Bracing myself for the backlash that might come, I closed my eyes, touched her headstone and concentrated, searching for her energy. I couldn't reach it. I tried again, calling her inside my head.
Nothing.
Over and over, I tried, but failed.
C'mon, girl, you want me to help you – so talk to me.
Nothing again.
I was out of practice.
I just couldn't find her.
Tired, I decided to go home and call Angie we'll see each other another day. As soon as I made a couple of steps, however, something crashed into me and froze me into place, something chilly, violent seizing me, until I collapsed on my knees. I crawled away, panting, until I found myself back by the grave marked with lilies. There I laid on the cool, wet grass, until I was somehow able to drag myself up on my feet, disoriented and frightened. I had to steady myself by clutching the headstone. Knees wobbling, scorching pain in the chest. Images of the rape, of all the horrors Bree went through, flashing through my mind. The terror she felt, pumping up my adrenaline sky high as if it was my own.
Stop it! I cried out to her in my head. You'll kill me if you go on like this.
I keep trying to show you, but you don't wanna see it, I keep trying to tell you, but you're not listening. Nobody is. Her voice, distant, was desperate. Help me, Bella!
Falling down on my knees again, doubling over in pain and gasping for breath, I muttered: "Alright. I'm listening."
"Bella!"
I looked back. Angela, looking as scared as if an earthquake was going on. She rushed to me and grabbed me. "Jesus, Bella, are you okay?" She shook with me when I wasn't reacting. "Bella?"
That feeling of chill went away and I was suddenly empty. "Angie, can you get me home somehow?" I muttered to her and she quickly nodded, wreathing my arm around her neck and pulling me up.
"Sure – sure, I got my car here. Don't worry, Bella, you'll be fine. Just, you know what? I'll take you to the ER, okay?"
"Okay."
Tammy Benjamin, Bella. Find Tammy Benjamin.

xxx

So there we were, back in that room, back on IV drips and monitors for a while. Angela waited outside for a moment as the kindly face of Dr. Cullen was hovering above me, his amber eyes darting to me here and there in endless sadness and regret as he was filling out some forms.
"I will put you on top priority, Miss Swan," Dr. Cullen promised me. "I will strive my hardest to find you a new heart."
Might be better if you don't, I thought. Save it for somebody with better chances at survival.
This body, from my childhood it was dead set on destroying itself; I had spent more time in hospitals during some years than out of them. What was the guarantee the new heart would not be wasted?
And now there was Bree; a health factor, or rather risk, I couldn't really tell Dr. Cullen about. Bree who needed help and assaulted me because I wasn't delivering it. What wasn't I seeing?

xxx

Thankfully, though I did feel pretty queasy and wiped out, it was nothing serious, as I assured Edward when he called me in concern from Seattle where he went for his transfusion, and Dr. Cullen let me go home. Angie gave me a lift and stayed till the evening.
"You sure you'll be okay here?"
"Yeah – well, Edward's coming over, so..."
"Uh... okay." She seemed torn between concern and relief. "By the way, why did you want to see Bree's grave?"
"Well... I dunno, I was hoping maybe we'd find some clues. But... there's another thing." And I told her about the trip to France with Edward.
"Well... alright. Just get back home safely," she said, troubled. "I'll cover up for you, don't worry. Hope it will help you. You'll write me or call me if anything happens, right?"
I smiled at her and we hugged. "Sure. You're the best."

xxx

Deep in the evening, as I was putting together some semblance of a dinner, I heard some weird rustle in the bushes and a pair of blue jays sounded a frenzied alarm call, roused from their sleep. I stopped slicing a cucumber and stiffened, turning after the sound; somehow I had a burning feeling in my gut somebody is watching me.

The jays were going crazy, but I could see nothing, it was as if the darkness was staring at me. Unknown. Empty.
Danger.
I sensed danger.
The door was locked, but old. There were no safety bars on in, no special locks. The windows, too, were just glass. I suddenly felt exposed and at the mercy of whoever it was staring. There was no one living nearby. No one would hear me screaming.
I shuddered and took a deep breath, forcing myself to go on slicing that cucumber and acting as if nothing was the matter. But as if casually, I dialled Edward's number.
"Pick it up, pick it up, pick it up," I begged him under my breath. I grabbed the knife so my knuckles whitened.
"Bella?"
"Edward, I think someone's outside. Staring... I think someone's in the bushes, watching me from there. Can you-"
"I'll be there as fast as I can, okay? Just stay on the phone, okay? Okay?"
"Okay."
"I'm almost there, love. In five minutes."
I eyed the shotguns that were hanging on the wall in the corridor. I'd have to find some ammo, in dad's desk next to the TV. Five minutes seemed like too sufficient time for someone to burst in and kill me. But, no shotguns. Shotguns aren't good for a closed, small space. A gun. Dad has to have his Beretta M9 somewhere near the TV. He has to. Slowly, twirling my hair as if I was flirting on the phone, I went over to the den, rummaging through the desk for the Beretta and a full mag.
"What's that noise?" Edward asked and I could hear his brakes screaming as if he made a mad turn.
"Looking for a gun. Something's wrong, Edward, something's really wrong."
"I know, I believe you. You know how to shoot? Well enough to have a chance to at least slow that bastard down?"
I glanced behind at the tiny sliver of the forest I could see from the den, indistinct and black. "By God I hope so," I muttered and then found the Beretta in the drawer and a full mag beside it. Good. I quickly locked the slide back, pushed the mag up in, hit the slide release, decocked, turned the safety off and hid the gun under my hoodie under my waistband. Adrenaline pumping through, goosebumps on my skin, I went back to the kitchen and put some water into the jug kettle. Steaming hot water's as good a weapon as any. Resuming the chopping, I listened half to Edward as he was telling me to hold on tight and half to the sounds from the woods. For a while, there was silence; but then the birds screeched again in warning. Something was possibly moving; it moved away from them, but now it got too close for comfort again for them. A predator? Was it a human, or was it an animal?
"Step on the gas, please," I murmured into the phone, fighting the urge to pat the gun to ensure it's there, ready and reachable.
"It's down on the floor. Hang on. Got that gun?"
"Yep."
The water was starting to boil. I took a deep breath. One thing my great-grandpa taught me about self-defence: mean it. If you can't avoid conflict, be brutal and efficient. Go for the move that gets you rid of your opponent the fastest and run. I forgot all about his training when I went to argue with Lauren over Ginny, this time I had to remember.
Stay mindful of what is going on around. Pay attention. Use it to avoid conflict if you can. If you can't, give it your best.
The birds. What is it that's bothering them? A mountain lion, a wolf, or a human? Where is it? Some ten, twelve yards away from the house, if it's still in the bushes, close to the birds. I hoped that was so. I hoped it was not going around the house to its back. But the birds were still going bonkers, so probably not. I put some raspberry leaves into a big mug and poured the sizzling water into it, religiously adhering to the routine in the hope that in case it is someone there instead of an animal, he has not noticed yet I know he is there. I leant against the cabinets with my back to have a good peripheral view of both the left and the right side, so that person could not surprise me from behind. Another shriek, the birds flew out of the forest and something moved forward in the bushes, the branches and leaves shaking. I hooked my hand on my waistband, just next to the gun, stiffening up.
"Edward? Edward, are you still there?"
The Lamborghini appeared on the road with a roar and I exhaled in relief, still keeping the hand next the gun. First that movement in the bushes stopped; then it seemed as if somebody was running away, into the forest. I couldn't see much, a little blinded by Edward's car's headlights, but it definitely was a human.

xxx

In the morning, soon after Edward woke me up with a herbal tea and a fruit salad on a tray and went down to pick his baggage up from his brother who brought it over, dad called me. He sounded awkward and remorseful.
"Hey Bells, you sure you'll be alright there?"
Huh? Since when do you care? I rolled my eyes and said wryly: "Positive. I'll have all the girls from school over and trash the place while you're out."
"Good," he cleared his throat. "Just mind the trophies, okay?"
Another eye roll. "Sure."
"Bells..."
"Yeah?"
He coughed and then said: "Bells, the reason why I've taken the week off is cause Sue and I, we're in Vegas. We're getting married. You're... well, it would seem your new sibling's on the way, so... we thought it would be good to make it official."
The cell fell on the floor and I stared at it as if struck down by lightning.
Not part of his life anymore. So that was the reason. He really had a new life now. Another child on the way.
He didn't need me anymore.
"Bells? Bells, hun, are you there?"
I picked the phone up. "Yeah. All the best of luck to you and Sue," I muttered into it, feeling dead. Perhaps it would have been better if I were. "Sorry, dad, gotta go now. Angie's at the door."
I rang off and went over to Edward, who gave me a quizzical look. I threw my arms around him and said: "Just hug me, will you? Hug me so tight I'll break."
He complied and whispered into my hair: "Careful what you wish for."

As he was carrying my backpack and suitcase to his car, I heard a rustle in the bushes again; Edward immediately turned after that, too. Somehow the sound scared me; and seeing Edward's reaction, I tensed up even more.
"What was that?" I whispered to him. I heard somebody's rapid breath; then thudding as if someone was running away in panic.
"Old Hopkins," Edward frowned hard and pulled me close to him with one arm, eyes fixed to the place from which the sounds were emerging. "You really shouldn't be here alone," he muttered to me through the corner of his mouth. "And if you are, don't wander in the forest alone anymore, okay? I wonder how long has that waste of space been watching this house."
I shuddered, drawing nearer to him. "Dad said he ain't dangerous," I whispered.
Edward shook his head a bit, grasping my arm tighter. "Not so sure. Not anymore. He's getting weirder and weirder since he last came back from the rehab. As if he started taking something."
"Angie..." I breathed. "Angie's been coming here alone – do you think he could hurt her?"
"Maybe. Who knows. But I think you should warn her, too. Or you know what – I'll ask my siblings to keep watch on her till we come back. They'll keep her safe. Well, if that's okay with her."
Angie agreed to our mutual relief.
Then, the last thing before leaving, I overstuffed the bird feeder with peanuts and sunflower seeds. The jays will find it, as they always have the past few days since they've built their nest in the forest.
The least I can do for you, I thought with a glance at their tree. You two loud things may have well saved my life.

xxx

"My hip and knee, I've got metal replacement in them," I explained to the officer as I came to stand in front of the metal frame detector, slouching in discomfort and bracing myself for what I knew would come regardless.
As always, I gave the metal detector a heart attack.
"Step aside, honey, please."
I complied and stared off as two women officers started leading me away to search me. Edward frowned at one of the women and gave her a deep glare in the eyes; suddenly she took her hands off me, stood dumbstruck for a split second, blinking, and said: "Proceed, please. Next!"
I had seen that dazed, confused look before. On the librarian when she told him off for smoking.
"Hey, how did you do that?" I muttered to him when we got past the checks. "Did you just hypnotise her, or something?"
He evaluated me with a wary look, took my backpack from me and slung it over his shoulder. "And say... just hypothetically... I did?"
We stared at each other for a moment. Then I went and hugged him.

xxx

"There's one more reason why I'd like you to meet Vladimir," Edward explained to me when we were on board. "Garrett perhaps is easier to take as a healer and as a person in many ways for many people, but Vladimir is better at diagnostics."
"Well, you know my diagnosis."
He shook his head, frowning a bit in determination. "Just a label. Name for a symptom. It doesn't say why it keeps coming back to you, these heart troubles, or why did it come the first time. I want answers, Bella, so we can see what we can do. I think Vladimir might have them."
Drowsy, I snuggled my head against his shoulder and he rested his cheek against it. The clouds outside were like puffy trails of layered tulle on tutu skirts, such as ballerinas wear for Giselle; they looked comfortable, like a great place to lie down and sleep on, or walk on barefoot. Shame it would make such a terrible fall, right?
"You're sick?"
"Kinda," I admitted. Most of all I was so tired I could barely keep awake. "How do you know?"
"Your pulse seems sky high. And you're feverish."
"That's just anger at Charlie. It will pass," I grinned at him.
"Charlie?"
"Well, I don't think I'll call him dad anymore. He just somehow... isn't. It's time I face the facts."
He squeezed my hand tight. "Well, that's my brave girl," he murmured. "So, will you tell me now at last what made you so upset when you came down to me? Anything to do with him?"
I explained and he frowned, wreathing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me closer.
"I see."
We were silent for a moment, just holding each other. Cold. I felt so cold.
"You should move out," he said eventually.
"I know. I'm thinking about it. As soon as I'm eighteen. Just not sure where to. Or what's gonna happen, really. If da... Charlie wants to move to Sue's, or if the Clearwaters are gonna move in with him. Not much space there for a baby, really. And definitely no space for me if Leah moves in, too."
He held me tighter. "Plenty of space in the Cullen house, if you ever want," he muttered. "For now, at least. Till we find a place of our own."
I widened my eyes at him. He crossed looks with me.
"Just a normal life, remember?" he said and carefully squeezed my hand. "That's all that both of us want. And we deserve it, after all the madness. And I love you, Bella. You're what I care about the most in the world, apart from mother." He stroked my cheek and rested his forehead against mine. "And like I said, it's not safe for you to stay in that house alone with that weirdo stalking you. We'll need to take care about him, anyway, but still. We would be much happier without our fathers messing with us. I'm eighteen next week. And you?"
"13th September."
"Oh. That's pretty long. Too long. It's not good for you to be under Chief Swan's authority if you get sicker, with his attitude."
I shrugged and sighed. "Well, what can we do. Just wait and hope for the best. Hope that I won't get sicker."
Somewhere in the quarter of the flight, I began to cough and my joints started to be killing me. Edward frowned, touched my forehead and then laid his ear against my sternum.
"Oh Hell," he muttered and handed me my scarf from the overhead locker.
Some moments later I started to have difficulty to breathe, a heavy pressure on my chest and pain under my left shoulder blade. My left arm began to tingle weirdly. Gradually, I lost feeling in it, in my left leg, in the left half of my face.
"It's okay, it's just my spine, from too much homework laptop time," I tried to smile at him, but it only seemed to alarm him further. Then I realised I can't really smile. Somehow, my facial muscles were too numb and weak for that.
He pulled me into his arms. Like in the hospital, he whispered to me not to be scared, that I will pull through. He whispered to me that he loves me, to please not leave him. He held me through the shaking as chills went through me and wrapped me up in all the blankets he begged off the scared stewardesses. He held me through all the sweating when I began to burn, wiped it off my forehead and placed kisses there. Through the coughing, through the agonizing headache, through the moments I thought that's it, I'm too weak, I won't make it through the flight. By the end of the flight, the fever was through and it seemed the worst is over; I opened my eyes to find myself in his pleasantly cool arms, his gaze, caring and scared, fixed on me and outside it was dawning – and I saw that this was really the beginning. I reached up for his cheek and stroked it; and I told him: "I love you."

Beyond the passport checks, I suddenly dropped to the ground. I couldn't walk anymore; couldn't move my left arm and leg. Edward picked me up at once and carried me past the baggage claims to a limousine that awaited us there and took us straight to a hospital.
Once connected to all those machines again and once given tPA, I sighed a sigh of relief – and he did, too, looking at me and clasping my hand in both his.
"He'll be here soon," he promised me, while the nurses and doctors fussed around me. "His plane should land in few hours. Just hold on, okay? Okay?"
I smiled at him as far as I could, struggling to keep my eyes open. Within a moment, however, I was out.

xxx

I woke up with a start, gasping for breath; the left part of my body paralysed. I knew I was having another attack. The monitor beeped in warning. I heard it, but I couldn't see it. All was dark. I couldn't see the LED displays shining. I couldn't see anything at all. I groped for the call button to get the nurse, but I couldn't find it, my fingers not obeying me. I was in utter darkness, alone and utterly terrified.
I tried to scream out for help, but I couldn't open my mouth. The hospital was still; the way they tend to be still only during the night shift at some one or two am, nurses painting their nails and hanging onto their coffees in their office.
This was the end.
Edward... please God, let me see Edward once again, for the last time...
Then I felt an icy hand on my immobile shoulder, soon followed by another one, which was hot like branding iron.
"Drug, skorey," a husky, dark male voice said. "Ona umiraet."
"Sdelayu, chto smogu," a deep, calm, distant voice replied.
Somebody forced my lips open and made me swallow a strange-tasting liquid.
Then I fell into oblivion.

xxx

In the morning as it dawned, the Sun stabbed me in the eyes; it was as painful as it must be for any blind person, suddenly seeing, or for a nocturnal animal rudely awakened from its sleep out of its natural hours.
Blurry, grey images slowly turned into something coherent. A gigantic black figure, a blur of white hair; I blinked several times, trying to zone in. The light made it difficult. At last I made out the silhouette of an enormous man reading a book by my bedside. Then the details of the snow white hair, cascading in wavy layers down to discomfortingly broad shoulders. The height, which was plain scary. Even as he was sitting. The face was proud, aloof, beautiful and unfamiliar. Nothing in it rang a bell. And yet... Porcelain fair skin. Angular jaws. Unnatural stillness with which he sat and the uprightness of his back. And the aura of reserve. With those, he reminded me of Edward. And yet, there was something infinitely strange about him, stranger than about Edward, as if... and that thought made me shudder after the recent encounter with Bree. As if he was closer to the world of the spirits than the world of the living. I drew back on instinct, gripped by a sudden surge of paralysing fear.
He turned a page, as if engrossed still in his reading, though I had a feeling from the way his eyes stilled for a split second he was alerted to my movement. I was inching away as far as I could, pressing myself against the wall. Thinking, on the off chance he really is lost in his reading, would I make it to the door fast enough before he springs up and stops me? Drawing further away, I toppled over something and it fell on the floor with a loud clink.
Peaceful, not in the least perturbed, he went on to turn another page. As if, who knows, giving me the time to observe him and calm down. Never taking my eyes off him, I groped around for the button to call the nurse. I couldn't find it.
Calm down, girl. Stop freaking out. Be logical about it. You can move now – you couldn't before. Your limbs obey you. You feel strong enough in fact to walk.
To run.
To haul rocks.
Weird. Too soon. Too soon after a right cerebrovascular aneurysm. I shouldn't be able to move yet. Or did I sleep for so long?
For how long did I sleep?
Alright, he's a stranger in your room. There were two strangers in your room in the night, trying to heal you. Stop freaking out, for God's sake.
After couple of more blinking, I realized the book he was reading was by Pushkin, though I couldn't see what it was; he was wearing an elegant, tailored black suit with an unusual shirt underneath the jacket. It was a Tolstoy shirt; something my Russian great-grandfather used to wear sometimes.
One of the Russians from the night. Calm down, Bella. Just frigging calm down.
The agonizing pain that was shooting through me made it difficult. Even simply to focus, or think at all. My mind screamed for relief, for Tylenol, for any kind of painkiller.
Height. A healer. This must be Vladimir, Garrett's father.
A pair of freezing blue eyes lifted to me. He lingered a second on me with a serious, scrutinising gaze, holding mine, before putting the book aside, standing up and giving me a formal bow of his head. "Please, there is no need to be scared of me, Miss Swan. I am Edward's uncle, Vladimir Chernigovsky."
The deep, calm voice from the night.
"Edward," I rasped and swallowed, trying to regain my voice. "Where is-"
"He will come back in a minute. I sent him off to take his meal, he has not eaten anything in a too long time and was on the verge of collapsing, too."
I glanced around, seeing a large fireplace, French windows, antique furniture. I wasn't in the hospital anymore. "Where... where am I?"
"At my home. Safe."
Machines were still beeping around me; I still had tubes attached to me. But the word, home, even if somebody else's, made me relax at last. And perhaps it was his voice, too. It was soothing.
Exhausted, I sank back into the pillow, soft as the mother's arms, and turned my head to him. "Mr. Chernigovsky... thank you."
He shook his head. "For nothing yet. How do you feel, Miss Swan?"
"Thirsty."
Actually, that was an understatement. My throat was burning with the thirst.
He nodded. "Naturally. But first, sleep, Miss Swan. Sleep will help you heal all the faster." He approached me in a slow, serene gait and my eyes began to close, even as I struggled to keep them open. "Sleep. Just sleep."
With the last bit of consciousness I caught the same strange taste of an unknown liquid. It tasted like fire.

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Author's note:

Drug, skorey. Ona umiraet.
Sdelayu, chto smogu.

Hurry up, my friend. She is dying.
I will do my best.

As always, thanks so much to each and every one of you for reading, subscribing, favoriting and reviewing this story:-) Kochabilka, Traceybuie, Silversimon, it's always great to see you're sticking around. Thanks for all your thoughtful reviews:-)

!Small Spoiler Alert!

I think however perhaps there are more of you people wondering like Silversimon whether this is going to be about Bella/Garrett pairing, so, though I was not going to spill the beans, I will, a little. Please don't worry. It's just that this is such a long, long story to tell. We're at chapter 11 now and we are not even over the beginning yet. Garrett is going to be very important for the story's conflict later on and though this is actually a fic with more pairings (B/E, B/V and B/G, which I just put in the description, thanks for reminding me!), there indeed will be a Bella/Garrett pairing, eventually. Let's just say Bella has to grow into a relationship with Garrett and there's a lot of stuff for her to go through yet?