"Hey."

"Hey." I remained seated, not sparing my adoptive brother a glance. "Are you angry?"

"No." The sincerity in Edward's voice prompted me to turn and face him as he explained. "I admit I was a little put out that you would worry Esme, running home without a word like that." I winced. "But," he continued, "I realize there wasn't a way around that. Carlisle told me you cut it pretty close as it was. If you'd hesitated even a minute, your friend here might not have made it."

I opened my mouth to ask a question, but he was already answering, "I think it would have been better for him if you'd let him die. But I understand why you didn't."

If I were still human, I would have blushed. I'd been trying very hard not to understand my own motivation. I had a feeling I might not like it.

Why was Edward even here now? He'd been avoiding this room ever since -

"I've only been staying away because I haven't particularly wanted to be inside his head." My brother gestured toward the man on the makeshift pallet. After all the blood had been cleaned up, Esme had suggested we move him to someplace a bit more comfortable than the table, but in a house that never slept, beds were hard to come by. I hadn't left my place on the floor next to him since we'd moved him here.

I glared at Edward. "Would you stop answering questions I haven't asked?"

He grinned in reply. Then he cocked his head, thoughtful. "He's calmer with you here. He isn't even aware that I'm in the room, he's so focused on you."

As I looked down at young man beside me, I couldn't help but ask, "Has it gotten any better for him? At all?"

"No," Edward said simply.

I grasped the dark-haired man's hand and could feel how tense each muscle in it was. Remembering my own transformation, I couldn't imagine how difficult his self-control must be. All that effort, and when he woke up he'd be rewarded with the knowledge that he was a monster.

"I really should have just let him die." Even as I said this, I ran my free hand through his curls possessively. Whatever I should have done, I knew that if I had the chance to relive the encounter, I'd save him again.

Edward observed, "He likes the way your hand feels." He stared out the window for a long moment. "What you should or shouldn't have done, I think that's for him to decide."

I bit my lip. "Perhaps."

My brother reached out and tucked one of my curls, lank from neglect, behind my ear. "I'm supposed to tell you to go hunt. I should also tell you to go freshen up a bit - you haven't been changed your dress every four hours today and it's starting to worry us." He smiled as I rolled my eyes. "But," he continued, his voice serious, "I won't. You should stay here with him."

I smiled tentatively. "Thank you, Edward."

He inclined his head. "Rose."

When he'd gone, I turned back to the young man, lying so perfectly still. I smoothed one of his dark curls into place. Why had I saved him? If this could even be called saving. I resented Carlisle for turning me into a creature of nightmares. Resented him and Esme for their hopes that I would prove a good mate for Edward. Resented Edward for not wanting me, even though I didn't want him. Resented myself for being too cowardly to leave them.

Me being a vampire hadn't worked out for anyone. So why had I forced this existence on someone else?

My motivation suddenly burst out from the mental walls I'd so desperately tried to contain it in, refusing to let me ignore it any longer. It was a hope, a stubborn, untamable hope that all my powers of reason could not destroy: maybe I didn't have to feel alone.

With that hope came a fear just as strong: this soon-to-be vampire would resent me for his rebirth.