Bella found herself wandering the woods for some time. She wasn't entirely sure where she'd ended up, feet treading an aimless path, mind pulsing furiously in her skull. She paused, noticing only now how far she'd strayed. How much nothing looked similar, yet all looked the same.
The anger that had fuelled her hike had dissipated, burned away by step after step. She looked behind her, thinking for a moment there'd be scorch marks in the path she'd made, something to follow her way back. There were none. The forest floor looked untouched; each lick of grass as long and untrampled as the rest. The dense canopy suddenly felt oppressive. She felt a single rivulet of sweat stream down her neck.
Bella flopped onto the hard ground, back resting against one of the larger tree trunks around her. She could feel the energy seep away from her, feel the treetops stretching away, bending and twirling in her vision. She blinked, and the dizziness fled. These were the symptoms of dehydration, she realised.
She'd gone through anger. Now came grief. Indulgent tears flowed freely. She hated the energy they stole, each drop draining whatever she had in her to get back, but she couldn't stop them falling.
She was grieving a life she'd never know.
She'd had a dream, recurrent and vivid. The reality she'd seen for her future. The reality she'd expected. It always began the same. Her and Edward, frolicking among the trees, faster than light, faster than dust to settle, faster than sound itself. She was giggling and laughing, dodging trees with superhuman ease. Edward mirrored her, their hands connecting then moving away again. Separated by the trees and only briefly connecting. Their fingertips barely reached each other, the tips millimetres away before the vision came crashing down. A new Bella was running to catch Edward, slow, and ageing. The distance between seemed to stretch out, getting longer and longer. He got further and further away. Then he was out of sight. She was left behind, too weak to go on.
It wasn't like they'd said anything new, either of them. She and he had talked like this before, but never had she flown off the handle so quickly. She realised only now how presumptuous she'd been. Presumptuous that Edward's objections would lessen over time. He'd come to his senses and turn her and they'd be together forever. Alice's prediction had lulled her into a sense of temporary waiting. She would walk among them, she'd felt so certain then. Now she wasn't so sure.
She realised now how complacent she'd become, letting the time pass freely through her fingers when Edward's clock never ticked. It felt cruel somehow. Him watching her die a slow death. Time was a currency she couldn't afford, but the one thing he owned in abundance. The one thing he could share with no expense. She realised how selfish he'd been. Selfish not to give her the only thing she can't get by herself. It would cost him nothing, and yet. Yet he won't. It had always been her desire that Edward would turn her. Asking for Alice or anyone else to do it felt like a betrayal that she wasn't sure the relationship would survive.
She turned her mind back to the blades in front of her, hand tracing the stem of each before moving onto the next. A repetitive motion to soothe her pulsing brain. That, too, she realised was dehydration. She needed to get back. Where was she?
Bella's eyes wandered the trees, once more, searching for some identifying mark. She'd surely be nearer the campsite, but it was impossible to know. She could call out for Edward, but she wasn't sure how far his hearing might extend. Besides, her pride wouldn't allow it. She was certain that retracing her steps couldn't be that difficult anyway.
She stood up uneasily, head swimming with the movement. The heat had been searing, humid, unrelenting even in the trees. She'd been impetuous to run off like this. It had been several hours now since she'd had even the slightest bit of water. She was once again reminded of her stance as the weak human in this dynamic, and the resolve hardened to disprove the stereotype. I can do this. She ambled on.
Edward was sat where she'd left him, hands in the water, occupied by the way it laced in-between each finger, reuniting on the other side. He could see the fish clearly underneath the surface. Indifferent to his presence; he'd been there so long. He looked up at the sky, noting how the sun had dipped well below the treeline. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, how long he was supposed to wait, when to worry. It was a fine balance in his mind. His desire not to push Bella warring with his concern for her. He vowed to wait just a bit longer. As much as he could bear.
"Where's Bella?" Carlisle's casual voice floated through the haze, him and Esme were meandering up the path from downstream, hair still wet from the swim.
"She left," Edward said simply. "We had a fight." He looked away.
Carlisle nodded sympathetically, propping himself on the grass bank while Esme busied herself with the towels. He said nothing for a while, eyes on the blackbirds in the trees, a male and female playing cat and mouse. He smiled serenely.
"You have quite the connection, you two. It's something I've rarely seen in a hundred years," he said placidly, eyes moving to meet Edward's. "She will forgive."
Edward opened his mouth, but said nothing. He'd never met anyone like Bella in his taste of immortality. It was a flame that burned passionately. Yet, her candle had a wick; his was eternal. This fight would always be the circle he couldn't square. There was no moving forward with this. Carlisle seems to understand. He released a sympathetic sigh.
"Eternal damnation," he muttered. Carlisle had always had the same black and white thinking on the matter that Edward possessed. He'd seen the bloodthirst of his kind, watched them drain bodies with no remorse. It hurt to fight the nature he was given and he didn't wish it upon anyone. Edward's eyes caught his. He understood exactly what Carlisle was thinking, and nodded, sadly.
"I think we better look for her. She's been gone a while," Edward said finally.
Bella found herself hauling from tree to tree, struggling with the humidity. Sweat trickled down her back—a precious resource she couldn't afford to lose. Everything looked maddeningly the same. The trees, the grass—an endless repetition that made her question if she was walking in circles.
The oppressive sun bore down on her, each step heavier than the last as her legs threatened to buckle. Her throat was parched, her lips cracked, and her vision blurred. The forest, once teeming with life, now felt like an endless, suffocating maze. Dread gnawed at her insides—what if she never found her way out? She shook off the thought; it was ridiculous. Her pride wouldn't allow her to give in, and Edward would surely find her if it came to that.
She paused, leaning heavily against a tree trunk to steady herself. The suffocating woods had to end eventually. She had to be nearing the path again, something familiar. Summoning her last ounce of strength, she squinted into the distance, spotting a vague shape through her blurry vision. Was it her imagination, or was there something ahead?
Bella forced herself onward, clutching at anything to stay upright. The trees began to thin, and a surge of hope pushed her forward. She broke into a desperate run, driven by the thought of escape. Suddenly, she stopped, realizing where she was. The dense woods had given way to the top of the waterfall, the endless trees replaced by a long, weeping cliffside.
A small stone path cut through the water just before it cascaded over the rocks, leading to the slope she had descended with Edward, Carlisle, and Esme earlier that day. Somehow, she had circled back. Relief washed over her, lifting the heavy weight from her chest. She had found her way back. All that remained was to cross the stream, and Edward would be just down the hill.
Bella released her grip on the tree trunk and cautiously moved toward the stream. The stones seemed sturdy enough. This last push, and she wouldn't have needed Edward's help after all.
First step, second step, third—Bella wobbled dangerously as dizziness and the slippery rocks conspired to pull her into the rushing water. She regained her balance for a split second before she was knocked into the water, her jaw slamming painfully against a jagged rock. The pain was sharp, but she barely registered it. The stream, deceptively strong, surged around her, dragging her closer to the edge of the cliffs just feet ahead. The shallowness beneath her gave way to deeper water, and her footing slipped as the current yanked her from solid ground. Panic surged through her as she realized she was going to be swept over.
The searing pain in her jaw blurred with the dizziness, but she fought against the current, flailing desperately. Her screams were drowned by the roar of the water, but she tried anyway, her voice breaking. "Edw—!" She was dragged under, the water thinning as it scraped her mercilessly over the rocks. The edge was near; she could feel it. She would tumble over any second.
Her head broke the surface for a brief moment, and she gasped for air, her lungs burning as she tried to scream again. "Edwar—!" The current pulled her under once more, her head smashing against the rocks, and everything went dark.
Then, out of nowhere, a cool hand shot into the water, gripping her firmly and yanking her out.
A cool hand stroking her face, something soft beneath her head. There was a blinding light that stirred her stomach as she felt each eyelid lifted, flashed and let drop. She gasped.
"You're okay."
Edward's eyes were the first thing she saw when hers blinked open. She was lying down, head in his lap, him peering down at her with a look of concern and sympathy. "You're okay," he said again, gently smoothing away the concern on her face. She realised she was back at the campsite.
"How do you feel?" Carlisle was adjusting a drip that was clipped onto a makeshift stand. Bella traced the tubing to the crook of her elbow and cringed. "You were rather dehydrated when we found you," he clarified, catching her gaze sympathetically. He knew how she loathed needles.
She tried to answer, but the moment she opened her mouth, a sharp, searing pain shot through her jaw. Her hand flew to her cheek, fingers pressing against the source of the ache that radiated from her teeth. Edward noticed instantly. "Something sore, Bella?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
She nodded, her eyes watering from the pain. He cupped her jaw with the same gentle hand, guiding her to open her mouth slowly. The pain was sharp, making her wince as Edward carefully examined her. Carlisle, ever the attentive physician, handed Edward a small flashlight without a word. Edward took it gratefully, wanting not to divert his attention from Bella for a second. His eyes narrowed as he made the rounds of her mouth, beginning with the top left, working from the molar to incisor, the beam of the flashlight revealing some unusual findings. "Carlisle, have you got anything I can use for a mirror in your bag?"
Carlisle returned his attention to his black bag, his brows furrowed in thought as he rummaged through its contents. "I'm not sure I have anything that will work, Edward," he said finally. "I'll ask Alice; maybe she can help." He moved to exit the tent, but before he could step outside, Alice swept in with her usual grace, a knowing smile already playing on her lips.
"Sometimes you two forget that I'm psychic," she teased, holding up two compact mirrors attached to new makeup sets. "Do you want this one or this one?" She tilted her hands to show off the mirrors—one embedded in a blush compact, the other in an eyeshadow palette, both gleaming under the tent's light.
Edward allowed himself a small smile at her timing. "Is there any way you can attach one of those to that?" He nodded toward a pack of wooden tongue depressors sticking out of Carlisle's bag, the ones used for examining throats.
Alice's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "I think I can do that," she said with a confident grin, already moving to improvise. She deftly set to work, whipping up a makeshift tool with the kind of ease that made even the most mundane tasks seem magical when she did them.
Edward maintained a firm grip on Bella's jaw, wanting to avoid any movement that might cause her pain. He wasn't entirely sure where the pain was coming from. Fractured jaw, possibly. He needed Carlisle to have a look once he was done assessing the damage to her teeth.
Within moments, Alice was finished, holding up her creation with a triumphant smile. She had securely fastened the compact mirror to one of the wooden sticks, creating a makeshift dental mirror. "There, good as new," she chirped, handing it to Edward.
Edward took the improvised tool from Alice, his eyes warm with gratitude. "Perfect," he murmured, focusing his attention back on Bella. With gentle hands, he adjusted her jaw once more to get a better look, but as he applied the slightest pressure, Bella let out a small moan of pain. The sound pierced through him, and Carlisle, always attuned to suffering, immediately began rummaging through his bag for pain relief, his expression tense with concern.
"I'll leave you some privacy, Bella. Feel better soon!" Alice, sensing that her job was done, decided to make a quick exit. She hated seeing her human sister in pain and didn't want to linger, feeling useless as she watched. With her usual grace, she slipped out of the tent as spontaneously as she had entered, leaving behind a cool breeze in her wake.
Carlisle, his physician's instincts fully engaged, looked at Edward with concern. "What can I do, Edward?" His voice was steady, but the helplessness in his eyes was unmistakable. Seeing his future daughter-in-law in such agony was almost unbearable.
Edward's face was etched with worry as he continued his examination. "I think she's fractured her jaw, Carlisle. I can't get a good look at the damage. I need it held steady."
Without hesitation, Carlisle moved to help, his hands finding the hollow beneath Bella's chin. He positioned his fingers gently on either side of her jaw, stabilizing it as best he could. "Sorry, Bella," he said softly, his voice full of sympathy. He knew all too well that a fractured jaw was one of the sharpest, most excruciating pains a human could endure. He couldn't be sure that the fracture didn't reach her skull. Once Edward was finished, they needed to get Bella to the hospital.
Edward, with the mirror now firmly in place, began to carefully inspect the inside of her mouth. The flashlight's beam illuminated the left side, revealing the damage in harsh detail. "You've cracked some teeth, Bella. I'm so sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with guilt and sympathy. The mirror's reflection showed multiple fractures and chips, the result of the forceful impact during her fall. As he moved the mirror to the right side, he found more of the same—a grim confirmation of what he had feared. The cracks ran deep, and several teeth were chipped, the damage mirrored on both sides of her mouth.
His heart sank as he noticed the filling he had meticulously placed after Mexico in one of her back molars had been dislodged. It had run deep, and he felt certain that another filling would not be enough this time. It was a small detail, but one that hit him hard, knowing how much care he had taken to ensure her comfort and safety. Edward sighed, a heavy sound that echoed his realization of what this meant. Bella would need extensive dental work, and the knowledge that he couldn't shield her from this pain gnawed at him.
Bella whimpered softly, a mix of pain and embarrassment churning in her stomach like a lead weight. The nausea still lingered, a constant reminder of her disorientation. Every scrape, every bruise on her body seemed to throb in unison, and the thought of how much mending she would need felt overwhelming. It wasn't just the physical pain that got to her—it was the vulnerability of it all. To be so broken in front of Edward and the others, to have Carlisle, her future father-in-law, so intimately involved in patching up her damaged mouth, made her feel exposed and fragile. The idea of the entire vampire family knowing every detail of her injuries made her cheeks burn with embarrassment.
"It's okay, Bella," Edward whispered, his voice tender as he noticed a stray tear slipping down her cheek. He caught it with the pad of his thumb, wiping it away gently. His touch was cool, a stark contrast to the heat of her shame and discomfort. "We'll fix you up," he promised, his golden eyes full of reassurance and love. "Let's get you out of here, okay?"