Okay, I don't want to say buckle up but... things have to get worse to get better.

The song for this chapter is Running Up That Hill by The Hound and The Fox. Remember that you can play along with the story on Amazon Music using the special web address below!

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Chapter Forty-Four: Running Up That Hill
JPOV

I really questioned the wisdom of letting Bella watch her own funeral.

Rosalie had obliged Bella's distraught request to stream the joint service for her and Charlie. She'd discreetly set up cameras in some of the flower arrangements. So far it was just people coming into the small church in Forks where the service was being held. Bella would occasionally make a comment about someone who came in. Our family hadn't come in yet. The plan was for them to follow the caskets along with several of the families from La Push. I hadn't told Bella that part yet.

To be honest, I didn't want to tell Bella about any of this.

She was drowning in grief. It was like a festering black hole inside of her, sucking in every emotion she had and leaving a void whose icy edges burned inside of her, spreading the frost until she was only left with the cold. I hadn't had to tell Edward about what she was feeling; he could read it in my thoughts as I experienced it first hand. He thought that being able to indirectly be involved in the proceedings would offer her some closure.

I wasn't so sure.

I remembered what Bella's grief had felt like when she first moved to Forks and was mourning the loss of her mother. This was so much worse than that. I had to actively block out her feelings so I didn't internalize them and lose myself in her sorrow. The guilt was sour and biting and her grief tasted like seawater until I thought I might drown. I tried providing her with some comfort but any time I sent even the smallest amount to her, she yelled at me to stop.

She wasn't okay and I worried that maybe Carlisle had been right to worry about her desire to adjust to her new life. Maybe this was crueler than letting her die. She held herself personally responsible for what had happened to her dad and nothing any of us said or did made any difference.

Or maybe it was some odd quirk of hers since her change.

And she was all odd quirks.

In all my years and all the hundreds of newborns that I had been personally responsible for 'raising', I had yet to meet one that didn't wake and immediately assume that any other vampires were threats and react accordingly. Newborns operated purely on instinct. Not unlike animals, they prioritized food and safety first and were extremely temperamental and territorial.

So why hadn't Bella been wary or scared of us when she woke up?

She hadn't tried to run or fight. She'd had an entire conversation with us. She had seen me in all my scarred glory and hadn't run or even flinched. I'd lost count of the number of newborns that had woken up, seen my scars and immediately challenged me or ran away and hid. It was routine at this point. I knew how I looked. I knew that I screamed danger like a foghorn.

And yet, she'd stayed. She'd shown concern for me.

She hadn't had any desire to feed yet either and that might have been the most alarming thing of all to me.

I'd been alive for over a century and I still struggled to ignore my thirst. It was a burden that weighed on me, every day. I had to actively choose not to think about the burning in my throat. Here Bella was, no desire to hunt, no desire for blood.

Had I been doing it all wrong this whole time?

Was it me? Was my self control so weak that I struggled needlessly against my very nature?

It couldn't be.

Thirst was a defining feature of all vampires, old and new. It was the driving force of our very beings and was the center of our society. Covens were formed based on blood and power. The Volturi policed our ability to remain hidden, the violation of such usually was caused by overindulgence or especially violent and careless bloodshed.

Bella shouldn't be more than an instinctual predator right now. Losing Charlie should hurt some but it definitely shouldn't overwhelm her desire for blood.

Was this some latent gift manifesting itself in her new form?

She'd had an aversion to blood as a human that was so violent that mere drops could cause her to lose consciousness. I'd never heard of anyone waking up with a blood aversion. Even Carlisle hadn't been averse to blood, but rather averse to desecrating the sanctity of human life. I'd never heard of a gift like this. There had to be something else at play here.

"Here they come," she said softly, watching the television screen we were showing the funeral on. The funeral director carefully guided the casket 'Bella' was in down the aisle, followed by Carlisle guiding Charlie's. The Blacks and Clearwaters followed behind along with some other members of the council, including Old Quil, who I remembered meeting when we moved back. Behind them, Esme and Alice, and Rosalie and Emmett made their way to the benches behind the wolves.

Bella sniffed on the couch, tucked between Edward and I. She was leaning into him and he had an arm around her shoulder while I kept a hand on her knee trying to subtly feed her some peace. The service started and we listened as Harry Clearwater gave the eulogy for Charlie, recalling what they had been like in their youth and no one's surprise when he had decided to become a law enforcement officer.

"Charlie always had a strong sense of justice and a desire to serve and protect the innocent. He was always honest and I've never met another human being with a moral compass as straight as his. He was fiercely loyal and that was never more apparent than in the way he felt about his ex-wife and daughter. Charlie never stopped loving Renee, never failed to prioritize her wellbeing over his and the only person he loved more than her was his daughter, Bella. He was a proud father and even in the end, he was trying to protect her. He would do anything for the sake of her wellbeing." He looked briefly at the camera and I wondered if Carlisle had filled them in on the unexpected virtual guest. "He will be greatly missed but he will never be forgotten." He sat down and the funeral director returned to the pulpit.

"We will now hear a eulogy from Alice Cullen, a close personal friend of Isabella Swan." Alice walked somberly to the pulpit. My heart ached at the sight of her.

God, I missed her so much right now. She would be able to make sense of my mixed up and confused feelings. Above all, I knew she'd tell me that what I was feeling was valid and that Bella was just a huge freak and something was wrong with her brain.

Maybe in nicer words, but she'd know what I needed to hear.

"Bella was my best friend," Alice said thickly. "She was a beautiful, selfless soul. She was never afraid to stand up for injustices, a quality she inherited from her dad."

"This is wrong," Bella said from between us. "All of this is so wrong." Edward pulled her into him and she hid her face in his chest. I squirmed, the guilt rolling off of her and crashing into me like a tsunami.

"You're pretty lucky," he said casually. "None of us got to witness our funerals. The bloodlust was too much and we couldn't watch it live like this." She lifted her head up and stared at him.

"Because missing out on witnessing your own funeral is so lamentable." I chuckled.

"I would have liked to have known what was said about me," Edward said and she rolled her eyes.

"Of course you would. Only people with egos the size of Australia would care who said what at their funeral."

"Actually, I don't think you got a funeral," I mused.

"Why not," she asked, turning to me.

"No body," Edward bragged.

"Well, Edward died during the height of the Spanish Influenza. Public gatherings like funerals and wakes were prohibited in an attempt to control and stop the spread of the disease. Casualties overwhelmed the workforce and most victims were buried in unmarked graves. So even if Edward hadn't been turned, he would have just been dumped in the ground with lots of other people."

"That's so sad. So, you don't know where your parents are buried," she asked, turning to face him.

"Not exactly," he said and I felt the familiar, muted grief that Edward felt whenever he thought of his mother. "We've been able to guess where she's buried. There's actually some archaeologists at some universities here who are trying to get permission to start digging up the victims and trying to identify them. They've had some very generous funding but there's a small group of nutjobs who think that we should leave the dead buried."

"Generous funding, huh." He gave a self-deprecating smile.

"It's a noble endeavor that I obviously have absolutely no personal stake of interest in at all."

"Really, Bella, you're the only one who gets an actual, honest-to-God funeral. When we were all changed, we disappeared and there wasn't really anyone to make the body disappear. I think Rosalie was the only one who had a funeral with someone in the casket. Carlisle pulled a similar stunt with you and told her parents that the state she was found in required a closed casket service. But she couldn't attend because it was too soon after. Although if anyone was your competition for most controlled newborn, it would be Rosalie."

"Didn't she brutally murder everyone involved in her death," Bella deadpanned.

"She did and it was a beautiful, glorious thing," Edward hummed. "But Rosalie has never tasted human blood. She murdered every single one of them without ever giving into her bloodlust or losing control and feeding from them instead. She's quite proud of the fact. Even Carlisle tasted blood when he bit all of us. But she hasn't. I'm curious to see if you two are the same."

"Thanks so much," she said sarcastically. She turned her attention back to the television, watching as some of the local kids performed a hymn. "I didn't think it would be like this," she whispered.

"Because you thought you'd have more time?"

"That. And a double funeral with my father was never in the books."

"The animal that did this is gone, Bella. We made sure he suffered before we corrected the mistake of letting him take up valuable air."

"You what," she gasped.

"You didn't think we'd let him hurt you and Charlie and get away with it, did you," I asked her, confused.

"I just… it sounds so violent when you say it like that."

"It was violent, Bella. We're violent creatures, even if we live a civilized life. He hurt you and Charlie. We weren't going to leave it to a broken justice system and hope for retribution." She was silent, stewing in her conflicted emotions.

"Good," she finally said.

"Good," Edward asked.

"Yes, good. He deserved worse than he got, I'm sure. He killed Charlie. He should burn in Hell for eternity as far as I'm concerned." I looked at Edward, and felt the concern growing in him, responding with my own thoughts.

"We're going to open the floor to anyone who would like to share a memory or story of Isabella or Charlie," the funeral director said on the tv, pulling our attention back. Two men from the reservation stood and helped lift Billy Black's wheelchair onto the stage area. He took a microphone from the funeral director and sat for a moment, staring at his lap.

"Charlie Swan was like a brother to me," he said. "We knew each other from childhood and spent our days running around with Harry, creating more mischief than any Police Chief should have." Chuckles sounded around the room. "He was a quiet man, never one to offer up his own troubles without persuasion but the first to show up at the first sign of trouble and offer you the shirt off his back. When I was first confined to this chair, Charlie had a ramp built in place of the stairs to the house within twelve hours. He helped convert the house to accommodate the chair and to minimize issues with adjusting. He told me that he didn't realize when he prayed to be able to compete with me that I would be 'struck down'." I chuckled to myself. "When… when my precious wife, Sarah, was taken from us in a terrible accident, I was… a shell," he said shakily. "I had three children to care for and no desire to leave my bed. Charlie showed up at my house that night with enough food to keep us alive for weeks. He jumped in feeding my kids and communicating with the tribe about funeral arrangements. He set up a meal train and made sure that for the first two weeks after, we weren't alone.

"Charlie was good at that. At making sure you never felt alone, that you weren't left in the lurch. He was quick and intelligent, even if most people took his silence for ignorance. He only loved one woman in his life. I asked him once if he might try moving on and he told me, 'Billy, I've experienced the kind of love most people spend their entire lives looking for. Anything less would pale in comparison.'. From that love, he had Bella. Although their time together was less than they both deserved, those visits were the highlight of Charlie's year. He would talk about it for weeks before and it was a little bit harder for him to bounce back after. And Bella was Charlie's child through and through. Always quick to call someone out or give you a hard time to show affection but just as quick to offer whatever she could. About a month after Sarah passed, a box showed up at our door in the mail. Bella had put together a care package for my kids. She'd filled it with what pictures she and Renee still had, food that she'd learned to make while at our house, thoughtful and sentimental gifts and keepsakes for us. It was unexpected but, to this day, remains some of the most prized possessions in our family."

"I forgot about that," Bella murmured.

"This was not the ending that either Charlie or Bella deserved. They should have had more time together, to make up for the lost time. Even though Bella planned on leaving eventually to follow her own destiny, there should have been more memories and experiences. If Bella was still with us," he said, looking directly at the flower arrangement our camera was artfully concealed in, "I would tell her that I hope she doesn't blame herself. I would want her to know that Charlie loved her more than anything, even himself. That if he had had the opportunity to spare her at his own detriment, he wouldn't have had to think about it for more than a second. He just wanted her to be happy and loved. And she is. Very few are loved like she is." I grunted as grief and guilt intermingled to form a fist like force slammed into me from Bella. She was up and out the door before Edward or I could stop her, sobbing following her as she took off for the woods.

"I'll go," Edward said quietly. "Call Alice when this is over."

"Thanks," I said, feeling churlish. She was clearly suffering and I was letting her drag me down into it with her. He raced after her and I watched blankly as the funeral services closed and the pallbearers carried the coffins out of the small chapel. After everyone had left, I pulled my phone out and dialed Alice.

"Emmett and Rose are going to be on the next plane out. You can come back after they get there," she said, foregoing a greeting.

As usual.

"I will be. Send me all the details. I…"

"I know," she said softly. "It will be better once we're together again."

"Me or Bella," I teased halfheartedly.

"You. I'm not seeing Bella being okay for a while," she whispered sadly.