A/N: This is the epilogue. I like it, made me sad to finish this story off. );

But at the same time it makes me happy that I got this out of my head. It was my baby when I started it and things have changed so much while in the midst of writing this.

So once again, thanks to Kitschisme for Beta'ing. If Austin wasn't around, I'd snatch you away and steal you into the night. ;)

In our time, most humans don't take the opportunities and chances that they're given. Most would prefer to live by familiarity and repetitive safe ways. I was exactly the same way.

Everyday I would do the same routines, no differently from the day before. The same feeling of emptiness and a bottomless stomach with no end to the tragic worries and pains that flocked me were so common that I'd become uncomfortable without them.

The mundane sounds of rain and distant chatter in the back of my mind filled my ears with swollen lies and bruised meanings.

And when the pain became so unbearable and so incomplete to me, I decided to take the chance I was given, to take the outlet away and finally get away from it all.

But that outlet led to a dead signal. Maybe the operatours decided they would cut off power before I could reach the other side and I was just stuck in the middle, going no where but back to the place where I came from; alone and bruised beyond healing.

Instead, I was offered a separate reach. I was pulled from my confusion and pain and brought to a place where others were in the same position, and some of them so much worse. I could no longer just blend into my little world and remain noticed; I had to stick my head out and finally join in with the rest of the world.

People were kind; they were nice, understanding, and ingeniously tactful. I could watch them work their magic on the guards of our forced home, getting things that were contraband and sharing.

I learned more in that place than I did in all seventeen years of life elsewhere. I learned to love those around me, and not to take them for granted. One day they could be near me, laughing and playing, and then the next they could be on their death beds.

I thought about that hospital more than anything in the years that passed me by. I stayed the same, living in my greatest human chance. It wasn't really fair; I had this opportunity to live and be with the one I love, and no one else did.

When I was left to think by myself, I would go into shock inside my mind. The final days of my humanity weighed down on me heavily. I could barely remember them. They were blurry in front of my all-seeing eyes, but I felt the way my still organs rolled with each thought. The pain would come back; it was the only thing that could rip through me like that.

In the twenty years that had passed I had been more confident in myself than ever before. My instincts were keen and my mind was sharp. I could block out the pain of those lost memories easily if I wanted to. Sometimes, when I felt the need to be drawn back to them, I let the distant thoughts consume me. I wasn't ignorant to my human life. I knew I had been defiled and broken down to these little pieces of myself, but with each year that went by without great incidence I grew a little and the pieces began to mend themselves together.

It was a slow, painful process, but Edward was beside me the entire time.

Carlisle tried his hardest to conceal the thoughts of my last moments at the hospital. I knew my face was gaunt, with hopelessness and fear mixed into one hardened mask mixed with blood and salt from my tears.

The only reason he ever thought to abolish these thoughts was because of Edward. His… ability, so distinct and perfect, must have been too much for him, because he could see into the minds of others.

It started when we arrived back from our first hunt together. Our clothes weren't at all in tact, but we made do. Esme had been frantic, her body rigid with worry, and once we came in view, her shoulders slumped and she let out a long gust of air.

Carlisle had looked at our appearance and his lips tugged at the corner. Edward stiffened beside me and shuffled his foot in the dirt before muttering 'no' to him.

And in that instant we all turned our eyes on him. After hours of thorough discussion, convincing him that no one was speaking out loud, and that he was, indeed, listening to another part of the mind, he turned to me and glared directly into my eyes.

"Then why can't I hear yours?" He'd asked.

That of course spurred on a new round of inquisitions and a long night of testing his ability. The range was a mile and half before it became a quiet whisper. Living in the woods as newborns, this came in handy.

Six months and thirteen days after being changed and living solely on animal blood, our eyes started to dim out. At first I was terrified of this, and then, as the honey colour fringed the edges of my iris, I smiled and stalked off to relay the news to Carlisle .

Two years, three months, and fourteen days later, Edward had his first taste of human blood…

We were hunting on our own, and though he knew the man was a safe enough distance away, smelling the scent of his open wound when he tripped and then seeing the blood in his mind drove Edward wild.

I followed after him the whole way, trying my hardest to restrain him, but the one time I managed to tackle him to the ground, he snaked his way out of my embrace and got the gain on me.

Edward was faster than any of us; he had gifts and talents that put other vampires to shame. His control couldn't hold, though.. While I progressed in learning when to hold my breath and keeping calm, he reveled in the scent of it.

That night, his eyes turned a bright red, the same colour that I'd seen when I saw him as a vampire for the first time. He mourned for his mistake, and we gave the body a proper burial, Carlisle giving a quiet and short sermon he'd learned from his father.

Edward became more determined after that. But not long after, I came across a hiker who had caught his foot in a bear trap. After five years and not one slip up, I held my breath and went to help him.

As soon as the trap released and I thought he was better, I watched the pools of blood trickle to the ground, soaking uselessly into the leaves beneath him. While the man thanked me for my kindness I snapped and sucked him dry from the wound on his leg.

Once the blood hit my tongue, I couldn't stop. I fed gluttonously and I enjoyed every last drop. Even now when I think back to it my throat enflames with an incredible fire.

Like I had done with Edward, he held me in his arms all through the days that it took for me to become ravenously thirsty and cleanse the blood with that of a bears. We buried the man next to the other, and when dog search teams came out, we decided that no matter how far the bodies were from our home, the four of us needed to move.

Esme had taken the roll as adoptive mother. She cleaned the house, chastised us with a loving enthusiasm and all around adored to watch her small family.

After a few months I had slipped up and called her 'mom' by accident, the absolute joy that broke out on her face was glorious.

We ended up moving from Washington to Canada in no time. We moved to Alaska with a few years after that . Denali was a beautiful place; the land was covered with white and ice crystals hung from the large oak house that sat perfectly on a hill.

We met with Carlisle 's long time friends, who also fed solely off of animals. It was different, but also very inviting. I hadn't been near anyone but this small family in so long, and the previous friends I had, ended up… less than vibrant.

There had been a service for those who died during the flu that overtook the hospital. I couldn't attend, and neither could Edward, but Carlisle stood dutifully by as his patients were all sent off one by one.

He had seen Lorenzo briefly before he fled with one look from his black eyes. I'd only been told this recently when Edward more-or-less tried to run the house into the ground.. He was furious that Carlisle could even think of that man.

My insides churned with a familiar pain at that. I had hoped for his death, that maybe the blood he had lost would somehow kill him, or maybe by the way his skull had smashed into the wall he'd become nothing more than a useless puppet stuck in a chair for all his life.

His arms were both without use. He had to keep them in thick plastic braces, which meant that they would never heal correctly or be useful to him. His leg was snapped and the bone had obviously been pushed into some of the skin.

I was glad he was suffering; no one could deserve it more. But at the same time, I was disheartened by the fact that he was alive, that he had gotten his job back and was still considered a therapist much less a doctor.

For two years I thought about that, letting it fester and stew inside of me before I tracked him down from the safety of my home and family and decided to see him, to make sure he would be living in hell. Just to see. Edward had been completely put off by the idea, raging and roaring about what he had done to me, and that gave me all the more incentive.

And so here I sat, some ridiculous magazine in my hand that was so familiar to me, reading how to attract a male with a flip of your hair or a move of your lips. I almost laughed; I merely had to look in Edward's eyes and or cross my legs to attract him. All he had to do was speak and I was undone.

We managed to break several good pieces of furniture and a house in Montreal before we could even think about control. It was never something that we were worried about being controlled in. The best times of my life were with Edward above me, under me, and anywhere on me.

I shifted my legs a little and I saw him look over at me, his eyebrow raised. His lips were still in a straight line; his eyes were a little lighter. I reached my left hand up to stroke his taught jaw, and he leaned back with a sigh, his eyes closing. A woman seated in front of us watched with curiousity at our display of affection and I was unabashed by the fact that we both knew she was watching.

I sat the magazine on the table beside me and gripped onto Edward's hand, my nerves in a throng of unease. I would have passed out were I human, but this seemed so much different, it was anticipation settling in me.

"Mister and Misses Jones?" The receptionist called. Edward and I both stood and walked back into the office that awaited us.

The woman at the counter gave a strange look before turning back to her computer and picking up the ringing phone. I could smell his putrid scent ringing down the hallway. He smelled like antiseptic spray and death. When we entered the office, his back was turned on us; we were faced with his bald head that was shaved so that the obvious missing hair wouldn't be too visible.

Lorenzo fumbled through papers on the table behind him before turning around and opening up the folder—all without looking up at the people in front of him.

"Take a seat, so you'd like to enroll your son or daughter in the therapy, allow me to tell you the therapy sessions I work here do miracles." He grinned at the file, looking over the little girl who didn't belong to us, but was manipulated in a photo. My jaw clenched and I stood straighter. And at that moment, most likely hearing my jaw snap, he looked up and his face went completely gaunt.

Edward allowed me my distance, but still stood securely beside me. Lorenzo rolled his chair backwards and hit the table, the fat of his cheeks jiggling at the movement. Time had not been kind to the plastic surgeon's canvas. A long purple scar decourated the sides on his face, he had a hearing aid in one ear, and some kind metal ring on the other. His skin was… papery, disgusting to look at, and his eyes still looked menacing to me.

His arms were in large plastic casts, keeping him busy with picking up the paperwork when we arrived in. He looked horrified and spluttered over his mixed words. He stopped between panting breaths and then would try to say something before stopping. I decided to take the initiative and start. His fear was amusing, but my fingers were digging to the point of pain into my arms.

"Hello," my voice was light, quiet but I couldn't hold the venom back. It hurt not to snap at him, to take his pudgy little head off of his shoulders. I didn't want anything of this monster inside of me. He would die slowly, but there would be nothing left of his horrible life inside of me.

Never again.

"Surprised?"

"You—you're… like… him." He whispered, his fingers pointing directly at my eyes. He couldn't even curl his fist to point.

He must have meant Carlisle , the look of pure terror faded in and out and I saw his younger lecherous face enter my mind. I resisted the urge to smile at the mental image, but I took a step toward him.

"Stand up, you swine." I ordered. He stood shakily, knocking over his chair in the process. I could smell the flushing of fluids before I saw it seep through the front of his khakis. Edward snorted behind me and Lorenzo looked at him for the first time, his eyes growing wider if at all possible.

"B—both? Dear… God…"

"There is no God where you're going." I murmured, coming closer to his sniveling form. He couldn't walk properly, his knee wouldn't bend and I saw the scrap of bone sticking out of his leg.

And yet he still backed up, his perspiration soaking his back to the wall. I could smell the adrenaline rush with the fear. I stopped five feet away from him, not willing myself to be tempted to bite him..

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"If I lose control, stop me quickly, please."

"Of course,"

And with that, my hands were wrapped around his neck, not squeezing enough to snap his neck, but to close his windpipe and open it when he was on the verge of passing out.

"How does it feel to be in Alice's place?" I whispered, his eyes looked down at me, swimming in tears. I watched closely at the bulging blood vessel in his right eye and squeezed his neck harder this time. It was close to popping, and so I kept at it.

His sweaty hands clawed at my cold ones, unrelenting and forceful. He spoke gibberish, pleading for me to stop, to just stop.

"Did you stop when I asked you to?" He looked down at me again, his face a wide canvas of fear. Edward shifted behind me and suddenly he was on the desk, facing us both,

"Your eyes are changing…"

"I'll deal with this." I gripped tighter this time. "It's worth it."

"I'm—s—sorry!"

"You're sorry? No, you're not sorry, you're only sorry that you got caught, that you couldn't live life with functioning limbs and a pocketful of little girls who don't deserve to be there." I clenched my fingers around his windpipe completely and squeezed it.

I felt the surge of blood and then his eye tinted red and I let him go, dropping him to the floor in front of me.

"I came here to make you suffer, but an eternity in hell—as all real monsters go—is so much more than I can give you."

My leg reeled backwards and I pushed it forward into his stomach. I felt the muscles twisting and then a loud crack sounded through the room as I hit one of his ribs. His eye began to bleed, a perfect little line slipping down his putrid face.

I watched it, and then to control myself, I moved my leg forward with excessive force again. His mouth opened in a wheezing cough followed by a short cry. Before he could scream and attract attention I picked him up by his throat and lifted him up to the wall.

I held my breath and squeezed his neck while he thrashed wildly in my grip. His blood red eyes swam in blood and tears and little gasps left him and he swung his casted arms around and his disjointed leg hit me uselessly.

"Bella, please," Edward murmured behind me. I could hear the growl set low in his chest and then I wrapped both hands around his neck and strangled the monster to death.

He let out a gurgling shriek before Lorenzo's body went completely limp. Before his blood could drip to my hand, I let his body slide to the ground with a loud thud.

Edward's arms wrapped around my waist and his lips touched the back of my head. He was dead. He was actually, truly dead. He couldn't hurt anyone ever again… no one would have to suffer by his hands again.

"I don't feel any different…"

"It'll take time. We have plenty of time."

We stepped to the large glass window behind Lorenzo's desk and Edward grabbed the fake file with our aliases in it before opening it and jumping out.

That night I watched the news with my family, Edward on one side, and Esme on the other, with Carlisle waiting on the seat beside his wife, and we all watched the minute segment on how Doctor Steven Lorenzo was murdered in his office today. The police officer that we'd paid off to make fake sketches of the couple—Mister and Misses Jones—had a picture of two young people that looked no where near us.

I hoped that some of the people he'd hurt watched that, saw the image of his body snapped by the news reported before it could be covered up. He had obvious hand prints on his neck, and I'd done more damage than I thought, but it was more rewarding that way.

Two years after his death, the police raided his home in Seattle and found a collection of pictures and files of past patients—all girls under the age of twenty five—and began the process of contacting each one. They didn't find any of the girls at the hospital, they were dead, and they didn't find me, even though a letter was sent to my unnecessary PO Box.

I laughed a little at the irony; it was so much more than the police knew about, so much more than anyone on the human side knew about.

And so after all of the painful drama of Lorenzo died down, Edward and I left our adoptive parents for a decade, with small intervals of visits. We traveled the world, to Europe and Asia and saw everything we'd ever dreamed of going.

He proposed at the top of the Eifel Tower , where I'd mentioned once in our human life was the most romantic spot. We were married—a small affair—the next year and then after our long time alone together, we moved back with Esme and Carlisle .

I still thought about the time the weak faces of my friends were so dim to me, but I thought about them in remembrance, spoke to Edward about it and we shared what we remembered.

And though it was difficult, and we'd undoubtedly slip every now and then, we would be together for the rest of time, regardless of the struggles we would face.

A/N: Aw, I loved this so much.

I know a lot of people were unhappy with leaving Lorenzo where he was and all. Some people were perturbed by the whole walking off into the sunshine happily-ever-after thing I left off, but I knew this was going to happen since I started this, so I had time to stew on it and not let it bother me.

This was how I intended for it to go, and I'm very happy with the outcome.

So I'd maybe like to get 650 reviews. Right not 600 is like ten away. It'd make my life, and all you leave the best reviews that make me bust my gut laughing. xD

So for now this is finito, and I loved it so much, so go read something else of mine. If you want angst and lemon goodness I suggest Cultivating Youth Substinences or my collab with the lovely Kitschisme Labour of Devotion and I've got a couple stories up on my profile you should check out.

So goodbye, my loves!

Don't forget to review!