I've been running through the jungle
I've been running with the wolves
To get to you, to get to you
I've been down the darkest alleys
Saw the dark side of the moon
To get to you, to get to you
I've looked for love in every stranger
Took too much to ease the anger
All for you, yeah, all for you
Selena Gomez

Bella

I woke abruptly, disorientated.

Had I actually slept soundly for once?

We were on the couch. I was bundled in my duvet and Edward was lying next to me, his body keeping me tucked securely. He'd arranged me carefully to make sure my broken ribs weren't pressed to the cushions. He was tense.

"Are you all right?" I asked urgently, smoothing my thumb across his cheek.

"That should be my question to you."

"I feel … rested."

Edward's expression didn't change. "Thank you for letting me stay."

"I wanted you to."

I burrowed into his chest, relishing his embrace. This was the first time I'd been well since the day he'd left.

"What time is it?"

"Five-thirty in the afternoon. You slept all of today and most of last night. Are you in pain?" he asked anxiously.

"Not right now."

"You haven't eaten in days," he stated, still disquieted.

I sighed. He had a point. Detangling myself reluctantly with his help, I went to the kitchen and retrieved a box of graham crackers then returned to sit next to him on the couch.

"They're probably back now. They'll set up the house and then go back for the cars later."

"So quickly? Weren't you all working?"

"The others were."

"What were you doing?"

"Remembering." Edward took my hand in both of his and brought my wrist to his lips, inhaling deeply. "I was remembering you. That's all I was doing. Replaying my memories of you, over and over," he whispered against my skin. "It was more painful than I'd thought it was going to be—leaving you. I thought that having you in the world, happy … I thought that would be enough to carry me through. But it wasn't. I wanted to come back to you every single hour. The only thing keeping me from doing so was knowing that you were safer without me."

"You spoke to me a lot."

Edward frowned in confusion.

"I heard your voice in my head all the time," I clarified. "Memories of you. Almost anything triggered it. It was like you were still with me, even though it burned."

Agony sounded in Edward's chest. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you like this."

Nothing but the two of us in pain these last months. Gently brushing my fingers through his hair, I leaned my forehead to his, both of us closing our eyes briefly at the feeling.

"Do you remember everything we talked about? In the church?" he asked softly. "You were very tired. And the morphine …"

"I remember."

Edward ran his thumb over the faded lines on my forearm. He'd know they weren't deep enough to cause real harm, or even need stitches, but there was no mistaking it was a repetitive act of some kind.

"I left my blood for Victoria to follow."

"And you thought she was safe because Alice didn't stop you," he observed, his voice breaking.

"Yes. I wasn't really scared of her. Not the longer I kept doing it, since none of you appeared to warn me. Same with these …" I indicated to where the claw marks were. "None of you showed up at the hospital so I assumed it meant I would recover properly."

Edward made a quiet noise of sorrow and brought my hands back to his mouth. "And you haven't been staying in your room."

He wanted to catalogue it, the list of all the ways he'd failed me. I knew we needed to, it was the only way to move forward, purge ourselves of the guilt.

"I couldn't. You were everywhere."

"Charlie didn't stay here with you after the funeral?"

"No."

My words were tumbling out of me—the part I'd played in this.

"I didn't know you called—I barely used my cell. People were ringing the house phone all day, some thought Charlie still lived here. Harry couldn't arrange the funeral, I was helping. I told them to answer when people called for directions—I'm so sorry—"

Edward hugged me closer, silencing me. "It wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have done it like that. Everything went wrong; I was panicking, Alice's vision hadn't changed—she's never been wrong before. I saw it in her head when we were in the church; even with you alive it had the same ending, there was no new paths for her to see. I heard the voices in the background during the phone call—I already thought you were dead—"

His voice cracked on the word but he kept going, tormented. "I needed him to tell me you weren't. If only I had asked for you—I never would have exposed you to Aro. I can't even begin to express how sorry I am, Bella. For everything."

I scrubbed at the tears running down my face. "It was too many coincidences."

"Fate has always been stacked against us," he agreed humourlessly.

"But you're safe now," I whispered, my voice wobbling at how close he'd come to death.

"You saved us. Aro wanted us dead."

"Does he still?"

"No," he replied, smoothing his thumbs against my cheeks.

"How long did he give me?"

"He didn't think of that … or I couldn't catch it, his mind is nothing I'm used to. But time doesn't mean the same thing to him."

"I was banking on that."

"I'd thought he was too arrogant to notice you'd lied to him. Until I realised that was my failing. I never imagined it would be something you would want without me in your life."

"Take me to your family. Please. This is something I need to discuss with them too."

Edward nodded. He stood with me in his arms, arranging me more comfortably before we left.

When we arrived, I saw that the shattered window pane in the door had been repaired already. I probed for guilt and didn't feel it. I wondered where that would take me.

His family were waiting for us in the dining room when we arrived, all poised anxiously. Edward and I took our seats and he kept a hold of my hand

There was no music; the first time I'd been here with them and found it so. It made the place seem lonely, almost as much as it had when I'd come back. The rest of the house looked the same and I was sure if I had an eidetic memory like them I'd be able to tell that every item was placed in the exact same place down to the millimetre.

It was as if nothing had changed.

Everything in my life made sense again and I hated that. I'd spent these last months clawing my way up a mountainside, every moment excruciating, every simple task taking a thousand times more effort. The lure to let myself fall had been constant.

If I fell now, Edward would catch me. Everything would be easy, just like it had been before he'd left. It was so tempting. The wonderful life I'd built for myself with Edward was right there, all I had to do was grab it.

But I couldn't. My rage was too much.

I knew some of it was misplaced. Edward and his family truly hadn't known the danger I'd been in. They were remorseful for everything. But I wasn't about to let them brush aside my feelings.

"You are breathing a little better today," Carlisle observed, his expression laced with concern.

"The morphine helped. Thank you."

"I can give you more."

I didn't answer; I didn't want that yet. "Where did you go?" I asked instead.

"British Colombia."

I nodded. I don't know why I asked that, I hadn't cared about the answer. But that was why they didn't see the news reports, they had been in a different country.

I felt strange. Most of my righteous anger had evaporated after Alice's revelation but the rest of it was still simmering.

"I handled it all wrong, Bella," Edward said, his voice breaking once more.

"You didn't give me a chance to tell you what I thought."

"No. I knew you'd believe I could always save you."

"You have."

He shook his head slowly. "You shouldn't need saving from dangers I put you in."

"That was never what happened," I insisted, my heart constricting at how much he took on the weight of everyone else's decisions. "You didn't leave to stop me from becoming a vampire?"

This was the point that made the most sense to me; the only thing we'd truly disagreed on.

"It was a small part of it but not the entirety nor my main reason. I still believed you'd change your mind. I assumed I knew what you were thinking instead of listening to your words."

"Because you've never liked your choice."

He nodded. "Until I met you. I saw myself differently after you, Bella, and that also terrified me. My first impulse, the second I realised I loved you—the first one—was that I wanted you for eternity. It was so self-centred … as if you only existed for me. I rebelled against it. My selfishness has never brought me anything good."

"It's not selfish if I want it for myself."

"I didn't want to hear that. All I pictured was my forcing this on you."

"That's ridiculous," I snapped. "You've always known I had my own mind."

"This was different. This was bigger."

"And what happens next time you feel you need to take a choice away from me?"

"I won't."

He said it without hesitation.

"You would change me? Right now?"

He didn't even flinch. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it's what you want."

"How can I believe you?" I asked softly.

He did recoil then. "I will earn your trust back, Bella. I promise you. Telling you I didn't love you—that's the only lie I've ever told you. I know that's not worth anything but I want you to know that too."

I did know that. His lie had hurt so much. Everything about Edward had always made perfect sense to me and fit into my life so seamlessly. That lie never had.

"You were very brave, Bella. To face the Volturi like that, and the newborns," Jasper said.

There was my anger.

"Brave? You think that was brave? It was the bare minimum of what I had to do—you think that makes me some goddamn saint that I didn't go to pieces?"

Jasper was stricken, as were the others. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"We shouldn't have left you to face all that alone," Esme said miserably.

"I don't care about that—I wanted to face it alone. You think I could stand it if one of you were hurt in place of me? What makes me angry is that you've all just come back here as if nothing happened! You lied—you all just flitted out of my life without a word and now I'm supposed to trust you'll never do it again?"

Edward's hand was in mine … the desperation of his touch reminded me of the day I'd been attacked by James.

"You have every right to be angry, Bella," Carlisle replied. "We treated you very poorly—"

"I made them," Edward cut across. "I didn't tell them that I lied to you until after we'd left—"

"Regardless, we shouldn't have left in that way," Carlisle said firmly. "It's how we've always left; it helps protect us, and lets any friends we've made to move on if there is no contact afterwards. It should not have applied to you."

"No," I retorted.

"All I wanted was for you to have a proper life, a normal one," Edward whispered. "For you to move on."

"That's not in my nature any more than it's in yours."

"I had to try. Human emotions are not like ours."

"That doesn't mean I don't feel anything—"

"I know," he said hastily. "All I wanted to do was keep you safe and it left you in the worst pain you've ever been in—I'm so sorry, Bella."

I slid out of my chair and folded myself into his lap. His arms were around my shoulders, their cold weight instantly soothing.

"I'm sorry, too," Alice said, desolate. "I didn't look for your future … it hurt so much; I missed you. But if I had … if I hadn't been selfish … I would've realised I couldn't see you much earlier and maybe none of this would have happened. We wouldn't have left you unprotected."

"None of this was your fault," I told her. I stretched out my hand to her and she squeezed it briefly.

"I almost killed you both."

"That's not true," Edward said, at the same time I said;

"It was an accident."

"I tried to save you—I tried to stop it from happening."

Jasper hated her anguish. He grasped her hand, trying to calm her; his expression tormented.

"I know you did," I replied gently.

Alice didn't say anything more and her countenance only became marginally better under Jasper's influence.

"Bella? Can I ask you something else?" Carlisle said softly.

Edward suddenly pulled back so he could look at my face properly. He was shocked by Carlisle's thought but let me speak first.

"Yes?"

"There's quite a few … medical bills in your name. I saw them on the system when I went to the hospital today. I'm sorry, I saw them by accident. But I was angry; your binding hadn't been right and I wanted to know who had treated you."

I shrugged. "I don't care. But yes, there are bills." They'd been arriving in the letterbox for the past few weeks and I'd ignored them. I'd have left soon anyway.

"I can expunge them for you."

"If you want."

Edward couldn't contain himself anymore. "Charlie made you manage by yourself?" he demanded, also furious now.

"It wasn't like that," I argued, coming to Charlie's defence. "I knew what I was getting into, I worked enough hours. I just don't have health insurance."

"Did the card not work?"

"What card?"

"Your bank card."

"I didn't want to use it."

"Bella—have you been struggling for money? Is that why you're so—" Edward stopped, horrified.

I scowled at him. "No. And I don't need a lecture from you about not eating properly. Did you even hunt at all in the last six months?"

Edward didn't answer that. "All the ways I hurt you," he choked out. "So many ways—I'm sorry."

Sighing, I tucked my head under his chin; the place I'd always fit so naturally. His shirt smelt faintly of staleness, the scent of the underground city. I was still wearing my clothes from Italy too, the same clothes from the ocean and the funeral before that; the same clothes for almost four days and that was quickly—and inanely—my most pressing issue.

I blushed for the first time in a long time. "I need to shower and change."

"Please, will you stay here with us?" Esme asked.

The prospect of going back to Charlie's gloomy house was not appealing, even if Edward was there too. And living apart was out of the question. Terrible things happened when we were apart. "If that's okay," I said quietly.

"Of course, dear," Esme said, pressing a kiss to my hair.

Edward took me back to the house so I could collect my things. Before he let me do anything, he made me eat one of the containers of leftovers from the fridge, becoming worried when I could only pick at it.

When I tried to remove my top I came upon a difficulty that hadn't been there earlier. The placement of this tape was more hindering; better for my ribs, but with that and the ache that was slowly overwhelming my every tendon and joint since the morphine had worn off, I ended up awkwardly stuck in my shirt.

Edward, having heard my struggle, was quickly on the other side of the bathroom door. "Would you like me to help? I wasn't sure whether …"

All the things that were different about my body after everything … Edward felt guilty for it all. We both needed new memories of it.

"Please."

He was in front of me and I rested my forehead on his chest for a moment. Very carefully, he worked my shirt off and then unclasped my bra when I couldn't reach around. There were more bruises on my torso from my fall onto the roof, and my hip and upper thigh were a shocking shade of black. Edward put his hand to the spot, feather-light, letting his cold seep into the sore area, and I sighed involuntarily.

"Thank you."

Edward was despondent. "I never should've left. There's nothing I can do to make it up to you but I'm going to try."

"You don't have to. Just don't lie to me again."

"I won't. I can't. Please believe that."

"I do."

It would take us time to find that balance we'd had before. It would be ages before Edward felt able to ask me for something again, a favour, a request; ages before I'd stop reading into every sentence he spoke, every look he gave me. But sometime soon, we'd heal. That steadfast conviction I had in Edward, in us, was still there in the back of my mind—that missing feeling I'd been dealing with these long months, a lack of trust in those around me.

"I'll do anything you want, Bella. Anything you need me to do."

I shook my head. "It needs to be what we want. Our life together, not separately."

Edward's thumb caressed my cheek. "Yes. It will."

"You kept something from me," I whispered. "Maybe not deliberately, but that was what was so jarring for us. We can't do that. Even if you think we won't agree on something or like it, you need to say it. To give me the ability to say what I want."

"It was impossible to contemplate giving you something you might hate later."

"Even as your views of your nature changed?"

"Yes, that made it worse. It made the subconscious longing stronger and I've always tried to best my instincts."

Edward always endeavoured to do the right thing. It was one of the things I admired in him. Everything had gotten so mixed up and painful. But I was also confident it wouldn't happen again.

We were under the lukewarm water in the shower, Edward lathering shampoo into my hair and tenderly detangling the knots. I relaxed further, savouring the familiar feeling. How many times had we done this? All the tiny things about our life I had missed so much. He washed the rest of me and I twisted easily under his hands; another muscle memory.

"Do you want any arnica?" he asked after he'd wrapped me in my towel. I nodded and it was in his hands. He gently blotted it into all my marks, his touch so light I barely felt it.

Finally, I was cosy and clean, dressed in my hoodie and sweatpants. He'd scrubbed himself too, and put on one of the sets of clothes he'd kept in the bottom drawer of my dresser. Both of our outfits from Italy went into the bin.

It didn't take very long for me to pack up the contents of the kitchen, slow and one-handed, into a box for donation or the garbage, and even less time for Edward to have cleared and cleaned the house while I worked. I folded my duvet on top of the box with the rest of the linen, not wanting to keep it.

Edward held my hand when it came time for me to enter my bedroom but it wasn't as bad as I feared. Not with him next to me. I started with the things I'd scattered on the floor in my haste to find my passport, tossing them into one of my duffle bags that materialised. By the time I'd emptied my dresser, Edward had filled the other duffle to the brim with the rest of my things.

"Home?" he asked softly.

"Yes. Take me home."

Edward

When we returned, Bella was sore and exhausted. This was the first time in so long she'd been able to let herself rest and it all caught up with her at once. Carlisle gave her another dose of morphine and she was asleep almost instantly.

Reluctant to release her, I bundled her in the quilts and lay next to her, resting my palm over her bruised leg. Even in such a deep slumber, she still snuggled into my embrace. Bella letting me stay with her was a benediction. And more than I deserved.

That ache in my chest was back—different but sharper. Bella in agony had always warped my mind beyond anything else.

Her injuries.

She'd almost been ripped apart by a werewolf. She'd faced a newborn horde, almost alone. She'd been bitten, almost turned by a stranger. She was thin, nearly too thin; as well as fractured, bruised, and lacerated.

And yet—Bella was forgiveness itself.

She didn't blame Victoria or the werewolf. She didn't blame Charlie. She didn't even blame me, though she should have.

Bella was angry at how we'd treated her but there was no punishment behind any of her actions. She still loved me. Even without Jasper's hand on her skin to confirm it, I knew—I knew she was sincere and her love was as strong as ever.

I had treated her despicably.

My family, everyone except Rosalie, thought me infallible. I knew everyone's mind; my word was law. I protected my family from the motives of our enemies, straightened our thoughts, and ironed our arguments. It made me arrogant. Two hundred years of always being right with so few exceptions as to allow me to assume the other person was simply mistaken.

My family often thought of me that way. Not all of them in a negative sense, not Carlisle and Esme. They both relied on me to serve as a protection for our family, they were proud of me and pleased that I took satisfaction in my role. Jasper and Emmett thought of me as a know-it-all but always with good humour, or at least only a mild annoyance. Alice and I were the same; confident in our own assumptions. Only Rosalie thought of my behaviour with malice. I'd always dismissed it; she rarely had anything nice to say about anybody. But now I knew she had been right.

My arrogance had almost gotten Bella killed.

I had been so certain that her love did not go as deep as mine, that my leaving wouldn't hurt her as much as it would be the end of my life. That she would be safe with her father and safe with whichever human she chose as her partner. It also never occurred to me that she wouldn't use the money to keep herself comfortable, even if she still worked for a year before college as she had first wanted.

And Alice couldn't see her. I'd never expected that. I'd counted on her visions to be able to tell us if Bella was in any critical danger … there was nearly an acidic taste of bile in my throat as I understood we'd been blind to Bella our whole time away. All her injuries, her pain and anguish … I could've prevented it all. I could've come back and saved her.

All the ways I'd been wrong …

So accustomed to Bella's breathing, I noticed immediately when it changed in the early hours of the morning.

"Carlisle."

He came into the bedroom, worry etched on his features. He'd already guessed what I'd observed. Pneumonia?

"I think so. She's also hot as if she has a fever, even with me. And she couldn't eat anything last night."

She hasn't been eating for a while, he observed disquietly, comparing her weight from last spring to today. He touched her cheek, feeling her temperature, and noted that he could now smell the infection very faintly on her breath. I'll go and get her antibiotics and oxygen.

I let her sleep for the short time it took for Carlisle to return, loathing to disturb one of the only good rests she'd had recently, but roused her gently when his car pulled into the garage.

"Carlisle's bringing you medication. Do you want anything to eat?"

"Just water."

I returned with a full glass, Carlisle following me upstairs. She drank the whole thing while Carlisle gave her the injection; I refilled it from the tap in the bathroom.

"The oxygen is just a precaution, we've caught it early. But you'll have to go to the hospital if things get worse," Carlisle explained softly, securing the tube under her nose.

She nodded. "They told me it might happen when I got the X-ray."

Carlisle held the diaphragm of the stethoscope to her chest so he could hear her lungs properly. "Deep breath, deep as you can."

They were relatively clear, thankfully, but she was trembling and lethargic. Probably a combination of her illness, fatigue, and some malnutrition. I swept my fingers anxiously over her neck to cool her.

We will need to monitor her breathing. Carlisle ran through memories of pneumonia patients and tried to map their sounds to hers; difficult when neither of us could hear her lungs quite the same way. With her shield, Bella's sounded worse. There were odd catches as her adrenaline came and went, spurred by her body fighting off pain; the same strangeness that Carlisle had noticed in Italy. His forehead creased.

"You must eat," he told Bella, not leaving her room to wiggle out of it as I had. "You need to get your blood sugar back up too."

Bella sighed but nodded again. She and Carlisle talked while I worked in the kitchen, Esme having stocked it with food yesterday. Bella smiled when she saw I'd made her porridge and blueberries. She ate slowly but with Carlisle hovering over her, she finished the bowl.

Over the next few days, she did little else but sleep fitfully; lulled by tiredness but woken by her chills and cough. Her appetite improved, though Carlisle also made her drink a supplement every morning. It smelt terrible and Bella's expression told me it didn't taste nice either.

The others roamed in and out of our bedroom occasionally, bringing us tales from their day. I read to Bella when she was awake and switched the stereo to gentle music while she slept. When she felt a bit better, we went downstairs for a movie one afternoon but she didn't make it to the end before she was asleep again.

How is she?

Alice wasn't herself—desolate and quiet—she'd been very shaken by the revelation about her visions. Even now, she'd been watching my future all day to track Bella and was still second-guessing.

"Improving."

Bella's breathing was manageable, although she was uncomfortable without the oxygen.

"I'm sorry I was angry at you."

Alice shook her head. None of this would have happened if I had questioned myself.

"I as well. Bella has always had to be the one to pay for my mistakes."

I needed to prove to her that it wouldn't happen again—that I would do everything I could to show her I meant it. We hadn't had much opportunity to talk more about it, neither of us wanting to have such a discussion with her being ill. She was in my arms, trusting me without question. Again. Trusting me to care for her, for Carlisle and Esme to care for her.

Alice followed my gaze. Bella's not angry that you left her alone.

"That doesn't excuse it."

No, but don't focus everything on the thing she's not upset about.

There was truth in that though it didn't make my actions any less reprehensible.

Your futures were so intertwined. That's why I never noticed.

"We should have realised. I should have left then. In the beginning."

You regret her?

"Of course not. But her life would have been better without me in it."

That's not true. You're the only enemy you ever lose to, Edward. Don't let yourself ruin it.

I brushed my fingers over Bella's cheek, relishing that she leant into my touch subconsciously.

"Bella and I are only ever well when we are with each other. How is that the right choice for her?"

Because she chose it. Because she wants you too.

"That's too simple."

As it should be. You're the one who's complicated it all. Alice took note of my pained expression. Longing for something doesn't make it inherently bad.

I'd spent my entire life fighting my most overpowering yearnings; it felt so wrong to give in to the most heavenly one.

The next morning, Carlisle re-taped Bella's ribs with new bindings, noting happily that her breathing wasn't worsening and she was steadily gaining weight back.

"You'll have to finish the tin though," he told her.

"All of it? Bleh."

He smiled. "Sorry, I know it's unpleasant, everyone says so. But it's working."

Bella's energy returned as she got better and Carlisle was sure the next course of antibiotics would be the last one needed. She wanted to be outside, the dawn having thawed the air a little and the wind ceased.

"I've gotten so used to being outdoors, it almost feels odd to sit inside now."

"As long as you're warm enough," I observed, tucking another blanket around her as she lounged in one of the deck chairs. I sat at her feet and she carded her fingers through my hair.

"It must've felt weird to go to a house after months in the wilderness after your newborn phase."

"Somewhat. But more because of the humans."

"Can we stay here?"

"The house is isolated and there's enough of us to help contain you. It'll be fine if you don't go into any nearby towns for people from before to see you."

Bella smiled. "I'm glad. I want to be somewhere familiar."

Talking of this brought such strange emotions. I couldn't quite shake the feeling that Bella was only doing this for me, that I was pulling her into something hateful. Holding on to the remembrance that my views of myself had changed with her influence helped steady it—Bella loved so much of my vampire nature, she would love it when it became hers too.

… Walking right into their crypt. I'm sure Bella's fine. She said she was fine. This is so not a good idea.

"One of the werewolves is nearby. They want to see you."

"Jake?"

"I believe so."

These thoughts were not tinged with sadness, only resentment—the death of her mother too close to be eased so Jacob it must be. Bella had called Sarah and Leah to let them know the broad strokes of what had transpired about our return but Jacob wanted to see her himself, not trusting us—and me, specifically.

"Do you want me to go inside?"

Bella shook her head. "Not unless he wants."

Jacob was too focused on his skittishness and dislike for me to get the full gist of what he wanted but I doubted he would be civil. I'd hurt Bella a great deal, too much to be deserving of any courtesy.

Jacob stepped out of the trees, phasing into his human form once he was closer. That threw me a little until I noticed his brief nakedness hadn't bothered Bella, and no thought about it came into his head either. The both of them were clearly used to it.

Holy crap.

Bella's appearance startled him. Unable to see the nuance changes in her body over the days, and with the addition of the oxygen tube under her nose, Jacob saw Bella as worse than before.

"Hey, Jake."

The croak in her voice didn't help him either. "I thought you said you were better."

"I am."

"You don't look it," he accused.

She shrugged. "Carlisle said I am."

Yeah, that's the problem. How would he know? Not even human.

"This is Edward," Bella said.

"I know who he is," Jacob retorted, not looking at me.

"Hello, Jacob."

He ignored that too.

"Did you want me to leave so you and Bella can talk?"

Such a stand-up guy all of a sudden? What is going on—Bella was so pissed at him before.

"You're back then?" he asked, glaring at me now.

"Yes."

"That means the treaty is in effect."

His thoughts were guilty. He'd broken it before, telling Bella about us. But that was before I knew it was real. It doesn't count. And she probably knew already anyway.

"I'm aware. The elders were informed."

Jacob didn't like that. He loathed his father's indifference to our presence, other than the pain and confusion Billy had voiced our return would cause in Bella. A memory came to the forefront; Bella sagging to the ground, desperately trying to hold herself together, tears cascading down her cheeks.

I jerked myself away from it, snapping my gaze to Bella instead. She caressed my temple with her thumb.

Urgh, how does she touch him like that? She's not scared of them at all.

Bella harshly demanding Jacob to leave Victoria alone; defending our characters from his accusations; Bella and the werewolves in some dilapidated warehouse, loud roars and screeching metallic sounds of vampires being dismembered—Bella resolute; he shield slicing through them—Bella being smashed sideways, blanking momentarily; sharp teeth ripping her arm—she's got a needle, she knew that would happen, she's going to drain it out; it has to work—

Agony tore through me before I could stop it. Bella's fingers were comforting me once more and Jacob suddenly remembered a legend.

"Stay out of my head," he said angrily.

"Don't, Jake," Bella implored.

"It's his own fault if he doesn't like what I remember."

"Jake, stop. It wasn't Edward's fault, nor any of them. They didn't know what was happening. They would've come back to help if they did."

The three of us were distracted by a round of coughing that this brought on in Bella, Jake again not believing her assent that she was getting better. When he saw the blood in the tissue she was holding, he became even more alarmed.

What the fuck, is he going to attack her?!

I handed Bella her water and rubbed her back soothingly. Keeping one eye on Jacob's now unsteady form, I moved subtly so I was imposed between the two of them.

"I'm fine," Bella croaked when she could speak. "You should've been here last week. I looked like something from Dawn of the Dead."

"That's not funny, Bella," he snapped. "You're—bleeding."

Bella shoved the tissue back into the pocket of her sweatshirt. "Only a little. Not as bad as before."

Is she crazy?

"You're bleeding around a vampire."

"It's not like that happens every month or anything," Bella shot back.

It took Jacob a moment to understand. Oh, yuck. Okay. Too much information.

She registered his blurring hands and frowned in concern. "I'd be at the hospital if I was really sick. It looks worse than it is."

"So that's it?" he asked sourly. "Happily ever after?"

"Near enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's not really your business, is it?"

"You're going to stay with them? After everything that happened?"

"I explained it, Jake. This is what I want."

"Killing a human violates the treaty," he spat.

"I'm not dying."

"You won't be human."

"You don't have to like it but you do have to respect it."

Jacob was convulsing, livid at Bella's dismissiveness and his gaze kept darting to me, trepidation now growing too. He wanted retribution but knew he couldn't take our coven on alone and that Bella was more than capable of hindering the pack as well. Jacob knew the best option was to attack while she was weakened—he immediately shook that thought loose.

"You won't be welcome at La Push anymore."

Bella glared at him. "Until the elders tell me so, I can go anywhere I damn well please."

Jacob scowled at us before whirling and sprinting into the woods, phasing once he was far enough away. Enraged but not decisive.

Bella reached out and put her hand on the back of my neck consolingly, trying to ease my protective posture.

"Jake doesn't mean any harm, he'll cool off. But was he right? Does it violate the treaty?"

"I don't think so. We will need to speak to the elders."

Bella pulled me to relax next to her, curling into my chest. "We'll have to leave if they say no."

"Yes."

"They didn't have a problem with me living here before, I can't see it bothering them now."

"They hadn't fought newborns before. I hadn't hurt you before."

"Neither of those things has anything to do with my choice."

"They may not see it that way."

"Billy isn't unreasonable."

"He is worried about your distress."

Bella made a sympathetic noise. "I know. I'll talk to him."

"Only when you get your strength back."

She didn't argue, unexpectedly, giving weight to my uneasiness. Jacob hadn't been the one who injured her but one in the pack was responsible—I certainly wasn't going to allow her to go until it was safe.

"It was an accident. He didn't mean to," she whispered.

"Intention doesn't matter," I replied, speaking for myself and them.

Part of me wanted to hunt down the one who'd done it. Tear his still beating heart from his chest, let his mangled body stand as a symbol for anyone else who'd dare to harm her. But fury wasn't what Bella needed, especially as she'd asked for no retribution. She knew one word from her would be all it took for me to kill him. But Bella wouldn't want that. Because he was her friend, because of his family, because it was an accident, because she wasn't the vengeful type. There would be a multitude of reasons she wouldn't want him dead.

She leant closer to me and I shifted her cautiously, mindful of her ribs, so she was in my lap. I flattened my hand over her bruised hip, Bella soothed by the coolness even as it was healing well.

"I know why you did it … you shouldn't have lied to me. But even if you'd stayed, everything would've happened exactly the same," she repeated quietly.

"I abandoned you. Left you alone."

"And I was angry. But it was because I thought you knew what was happening. Jake only saw my anger, not the reasons why."

"You never hated me?"

"Never."

Bella clasped my hand to her, chasing away the mournfulness she could hear.

"You didn't trust my decisions."

"I didn't trust myself," I told her. "I was nearly too late to save you. That couldn't happen again."

Bella's voice was shaking suddenly. "I know the feeling."

I pressed my lips to her hair, pain lurching in my chest. "It seems every decision I've made, I've hurt you."

"Just the one."

"I will never fail you again."

Bella was silent and I wondered whether she believed me. "Do you want me to join you?" she asked finally. "The truth."

"More than anything. I've always wanted it. Alice has that old vision if you don't trust me."

"I do."

It almost felt like tears were pricking my eyes—my relief immeasurable. I hadn't ruined things beyond my ability to fix them.

"I wouldn't be losing anything," Bella told me firmly. "There's nothing I want that I can't do as a vampire. It's something I need. Just as I need you."

I inhaled her beautiful scent over and over. Bella had explained all of this to me before and I hadn't been prepared to listen, far too fixated on how much it would hurt her in the future.

"I heard Rosalie's memories of what you told her, about not wanting children. That was the thing I loathed taking from you the most."

"You didn't. I've never been interested in motherhood. I told you that too."

"I know. But I was worried. You might've been able to learn to live with the rest but I didn't want that to be a regret of yours either."

"Life isn't incomplete without children. You've never wanted them," she pointed out. "You've never wanted anything but me."

"No. But I've heard enough thoughts to imagine it might be different for women."

"Maybe. I don't know. It's one of those things you have to want with your whole self, not something you just want to see how it goes. And I've never felt that way about it."

Bella was shivering, even swathed in the blankets, the warmer air from earlier having evaporated.

"Just a bit longer," she sighed, sensing my wish to move her. "I've missed this so much."

"The cold?"

"This kind of cold. Living cold."