A/N Twilight is the property of Stephanie Meyer. Anya Simms is all mine.

Chapter 40: The Pyre

APOV

Tues March 15, 2005

Phoenix, AZ

I spent most of the morning pondering how best to ensure The Duck didn't make a bigger mess of things when a fleeting thought crossed my mind. One I knew Heathcliff would hate with a passion, but honestly, if it kept my vampire—Jasper—out of James' crosshairs, it was worth the potential fury.

Yet, that still left me with another question: sure, I could try to contain Bella and ensure she stays put, but what about me? Do I ask Jasper to do to me what I was thinking of doing to Bella? He's a vampire too, and I'm sure he'd hate the idea as much as Eddie boy would. The thought made my stomach twist.

I could feel the Gordian knot of tangled what-ifs and possibilities growing bigger by the minute. But the answer was staring me right in the face. It was so obvious. I had already caused too many ripples; I only had one card left to play.

Nothing. There was nothing I could do.

I had to sit back and let it all play out. Forget about Bella. Forget about trying to control the situation. I needed to focus on myself. How could I save myself? Easy. The answer, I realized, lay in the very advice I had given Bella in the car. No thrilling heroics. No thinking I could outsmart James.

I needed to listen to Alice and Jasper. I needed to put my faith in them and trust that they would see me through this. I had to surrender all of my control to them, which wasn't as easy as it seems. But it was the only option left.

"Nothing," I said aloud, the word heavy in the silence of the room. "We do nothing."

Both Alice and Jasper snapped their heads up in one fluid, synchronized movement. If it weren't such a life-and-death matter, I might have found it amusing. But the laughter died on my lips when I saw the confusion on both their faces.

Right, they wanted an explanation for my sudden outburst.

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. "I've been thinking... about all the ways I could try to keep Bella safe, to keep myself safe. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that every move I make just complicates things further. I've already caused too many ripples in this story." I paused, searching for the right words to make them understand. "Et voyons, anything I do now might just make things worse. So... we do nothing. We let it all play out as it's supposed to."

Alice tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as she processed my words. Jasper remained silent, but I could tell he was analyzing every nuance of what I was saying. "You're suggesting we just... wait?" she asked, her tone cautious, still uncertain what I mean.

No, I'm suggesting we head down to the nearest liquor store and drown our sorrows in a good bottle of Chardonnay. Of course, that's what I'm suggesting! "Yeah," I said, nodding. "I know it sounds counterintuitive, but I'm realizing that trying to force a different outcome might backfire. I was thinking of... well, some extreme measures to keep Bella in check, but that's not the answer." I looked over at Jasper, hoping he understood where I was coming from. "I don't want to take away anyone's agency, not Bella's, and certainly not my own. We just need to trust that things will unfold as they should." My confidence in this plan was miniscule but I carried on. "As your creator intended them too. I need to trust you both to keep us safe."

Jasper's eyes softened, understanding dawning in them. "You're right, Anya," he said quietly. "Sometimes the hardest thing to do is nothing, but it's also the smartest move."

Alice still seemed hesitant, but she nodded, her gaze flicking between us. "It's risky, but you're not wrong. The more we try to manipulate the situation, the more unpredictable the outcome becomes."

"A calculated risk," Jasper whispered softly, his eyes locking onto mine.

I couldn't help but smile, recognizing the words I had used with Carlisle when I suggested drawing my own blood, knowing full well the scent could push Jasper to his limits. The irony wasn't lost on me. "Exactement," I murmured, nodding in agreement.

It was strange to hear those words echoed back to me, especially now, when I realized I had to literally sit back and do nothing. Tabarnak, I really wanted a drink. Jasper's gaze softened, and I could see the understanding in his eyes, for me to have faith – faith in him, faith in Alice, and faith in whatever strange twist of fate had brought me here.

"It'll be okay," Jasper said, his voice steady, almost reassuring himself as much as me. "We'll make it through this."

I felt a surge of emotion, a mix of love and determination, and without thinking, I got up and moved toward him. I leaned in, pressing my lips gently against his, letting the warmth of the moment wash over us.

"Team Jasper to the end," I whispered with as much conviction as I could muster.

His hand came up to cup my cheek, and he smiled against my lips, a rare and beautiful expression that made my heart flutter. In that brief moment, everything else faded away—there were no deadly nomads, idiot teens or broody Heathcliffs. Hell, there wasn't even an ex-lover in the room. It was just us.

And that was enough.

JPOV

Wed March 16/05

The last forty-eight hours were, by far, the most hellish of my entire existence. Not even the worst days during my time with Maria could top what Anya and I found ourselves facing.

When Anya first suggested that our only plan was to do nothing—to let events play out as they should—I won't lie, I fucking hated it. The idea that any further interference from her could lead to an outcome even worse than the one she already dreaded, the one where Eddie boy swoops in at the last moment to play hero, went against my every instinct, both as a vampire and as a solider.

This was worse than our family agreeing to 'wait and see' after Eddie boy saved The Duck from the van.

But the more she explained it, the more I began to understand. She wasn't just talking about keeping herself out of harm's way; she was talking about preserving the fragile plot my creator had weaved. She had tried to warn Bella: no thrilling heroics, no thinking she could outsmart James. Most importantly, Anya knew she had to place blind faith in Alice and me. It was a calculated risk, just like the one she had taken before. Oh, that sweet blood! Damnit Whitlock, focus!

Anya had finally accepted that she was in this world, this reality, and that she had to play by its rules. She was no longer in the Dreamworld.

So, she did just that.

She did nothing.

She took all of her cues from the fictional characters she had once read about: myself, Alice, and Bella. Anya had slipped back into the role of a distant observer, a reader of her own fate.

I could feel how hard she struggled to keep her emotions in check, to stay calm, to be bored. To not draw attention to herself. More importantly, for three of us fictional characters, it was about not drawing attention to her. To not be influenced by her.

The days dragged by. Anya's emotions had been pushed deep down inside of her, she was focused on playing her part with a grace that both impressed and pained me. It was maddening, watching the woman I love force herself into this passive role when every instinct I had was screaming at me to do something, anything, to protect her. But I had to respect her decision.

She was right. Any action we took beyond what was necessary could have catastrophic consequences. I ached for her baseline emotional cocktail.

Fucking Edward and his need to invite the human to watch us play baseball!

And so, we waited. And I conceded that she was the true military genius. Maria would have wanted to conscript her into her army. A chilling thought to say the least.

When Alice had a vision and began to draw, I felt a spike of hope from Anya. It was brief, but intense. She quickly tamped it down, forcing herself back into the role she had committed to—the observer.

Alice's hand moved swiftly over the paper, sketching out the details of a place I knew would be crucial. A ballet studio, abandoned and decrepit, with its cracked mirrors and dusty floors by the looks of it.

Well, that's not exactly a great battlefield with all those potential dangers for a frail human like Bella. This was where it would happen—where Bella would be reckless, and where Eddie Boy would finally confront James. When Alice finished her drawing and held it up for us to see, Bella's reaction was instant; she recognized the place immediately. "That's my old dance studio," she said, clearly confused. "I haven't been there since I was a kid. Why would Alice draw this?"

Why indeed.

Anya continued to say nothing, her expression carefully neutral as she watched Bella try to make sense of the situation.

I fucking hate my creator and what they're doing to Anya. I needed her baseline emotional cocktail.

Tuesday rolled into Wednesday and still we waited. Eventually, Anya slipped back into the bedroom to rest. Once more I wasn't invited.

Fucking Edward!

I wish she would just tell me. I mean I could have used my gift and persuaded her, but she had placed her blind trust in me not to hurt her. Much like those early days in January when she would go to sleep knowing there was a vampire in the house. Fuck, how did I ever get so lucky to have this woman in my existence? But, I didn't because I realized, her decision, her strategy of doing nothing really was the best one we had. I fucking hated it, but it was what we had to do.

When we found Bella's note about taking Alice's car, I saw the colour drain from Anya's face. A flash of annoyance hit her—sharp, bright—because of fucking course The Duck was diving headfirst into danger, convinced she could outwit a tracker. Why wouldn't she?!

Anya didn't even bother speaking. Just gave a nod, like she was accepting the inevitable. Then she sank into an armchair, pale but composed, and started singing softly—"Down by the River to Pray."

Now that threw me off. Spiritual wasn't exactly her thing. The same woman who cursed like a sailor when things didn't go her way was now crooning an old hymn like she was making peace with the universe. Her voice was quiet, steady, and unsettling in its calm. Almost too calm, given the situation.

Do any of us making it out unscathed? Was she preparing for death? I thought this was a love story!

Alice and I exchanged a glance. I felt as if we were moving towards impending doom and disaster. But Anya had already told us—this was how it was supposed to go. We had to trust in that, in the story that was unfolding, even if it felt like everything was spiraling out of control. Which it fucking did feel like it was! And fucking Edward – when I get my hands on him!

Before I could ask Anya about her interesting song choice, Alice was already pulling out her phone, her fingers moving quickly as she dialed Edward. The call connected almost immediately, and Fucker's voice crackled through the speaker, tense and urgent.

"Alice, what's going on?" Well, your idiot girlfriend thought she could outsmart a tracker that's what's going on asshole.

"She's gone, Edward," Alice said, her voice clipped. "Bella took my car. She left a note, but it's vague. I think… I think she's going to meet James."

Fucking understatement – The Duck was thinking she could sacrifice herself. What the hell for, no idea. I mean, we're vampires. I'm a warrior. James wouldn't have lasted had he met me on the field of battle during the wars.

There was a pause on the other end, as Eddie boy was trying to piece together where Bella had gone. "She's going to the ballet studio," he said finally, the realization hitting him. "It's where she used to take lessons as a kid. James must have lured her there somehow."

Alice and I exchanged another glance—of course. It made sense now. But it was a fucking trap, and The Duck was waddling right into it.

"We're heading there now," I said, taking the phone from Alice. "We'll meet you there, Edward."

To say that Anya chose to follow us was a surprising move. She had given no sign that Alice's call to my idiot brother was part of the original story. She could've stayed safe at the hotel, far from the disaster that I feared was about to unfold. But when I went to question her, she shook her head, her eyes full of unshakable resolve.

Right. She didn't want to risk changing the story, and maybe she thought staying behind would somehow mess things up. She wasn't content to be a passive observer, left to wonder and worry. No, she wasn't running from the danger—she was walking right into it, fully aware of what could happen.

But how is that any different than what the Duck was doing you ask.

Well, Bella's impulsive stunt, was about charging headlong into danger just to prove a point. No, this was Anya making another calculated risk. Brave, yes. Foolish? Maybe. But reckless? No. She knew exactly what she was doing—she just wasn't backing down from it.

Shit, this woman was brave.

Leaving the hotel, Anya fell into step beside me. Every instinct screamed at me to turn around and take her as far from the fight as possible. This odd little human was willingly heading into a situation that could end in disaster, and yet she carried herself with a calm that awed—and terrified—me.

Oh, Maria would have turned her in a heartbeat!

Fucking Edward.

Reaching Carlisle's car—he must have come south separately from Edward—I glanced over at Anya. Her face was set with that same quiet determination.

"You don't have to do this," I said softly, just loud enough for her to hear.

"I know," she replied, her tone steady. "But I need to. The show must go on."

I nodded, understanding her reasoning, even if it went against every instinct screaming at me to keep her far from this mess. "Just stay close to us," I said, trying to keep my voice firm. "No heroics, no trying to outsmart anyone. We do this together, and we get out together."

She smiled—small, grateful—but it didn't reach her eyes. "Team Jasper to the end, remember?" she whispered.

I smiled back, though the dread gnawed at me, twisting deep inside. "Team Jasper to the end," I echoed. Is this the end?

The thought wouldn't stop circling in my mind. Once more I was thinking: I can ask her. Hell, I can even manipulate her into telling me how this all ends—whether any of us make it out—but even then, would knowing change anything? Can I risk making things worse? Can I live with knowing that this was all leading to disaster and not be able to stop it? Can I risk Anya's life? Fuck Eddie boy and the Duck. Anya, though? I can't take that chance.

Speeding toward the ballet studio, the car was eerily quiet. Anya sat silently in the backseat, her hands folded in her lap, her gaze distant but focused. It wasn't long before we reached our destination. We had all arrived—the Forks contingent, the Phoenix duo, plus Anya, the casual observer. I felt Eddie boy's annoyance at Anya's presence immediately; it contrasted sharply with the rage radiating off of Anya until she tamped it down, trying to maintain her role as just a bored observer.

Ignore her, Edward. Get inside and focus on Bella, I thought to myself, not daring to say the words aloud my irrational fear that I might tip the scales. Another deviation from what our creator had intended was the last thing we needed.

Thankfully, Eddie boy's desire to play the hero outweighed his annoyance, and he charged in.

The scent hit me before I saw it—Bella's blood, sharp and coppery, filling the air like a toxic perfume.

Well, shit, this wasn't good. A singer actively bleeding, being taunted by James who had also bitten her? Anya had said it would be bad, and she hadn't been mincing words.

We all sprang into action. Emmett and I zeroed in on James who was in combat with Edward, our instincts driving us to tear him apart before he could cause any more damage. Carlisle rushed to Bella's side, trying to assess the extent of her injuries. Esme, Alice and Rosalie moved with lethal precision, ensuring James had no escape.

And Anya—I lost track of her for what I thought was only a moment, but it was long enough.

When I found her, she was lying on the floor, still and silent. Her emotions were void, an absence that chilled me to the core.

Bella's screams echoed from the far side of the room, her voice filled with pain and terror. The remains of James were already burning, the flames consuming him. And that's when I saw it—a small bite mark on Anya's wrist.

James had gotten to her as well. His venom was coursing through her veins, and her reaction was the total opposite of Bella's. She wasn't writhing in agony or screaming in pain. She was slipping away, her life force dimming right before my eyes.

"NO" I screamed I couldn't let this happen. I couldn't let Anya slip away.

Was this how she returned to her world? Was the book finished, and now she'd be yanked back to her old life, leaving me here with nothing but a broken heart?

A/N #1: When I drafted this chapter, I think my line of thought was Anya thinking they could literally tie Bella up, in a basement, or maybe a bank vault. Which would also mean Jasper would have to tie her up and leave her while they destroyed James. I think. I wish I had written down what the crazy idea Anya had for detaining Bella. But yeah, something like that. 😊

A/N #2: I stand firm that sometimes the best strategy really is to do nothing and let things unfold as they should. It is also the hardest thing to do. It screams against our every instinct do something, anything. Yet doing nothing, is a form of 'something, anything'.