Summary: "A strangled cry escapes his lips as he watches her fragile body fall, down toward the rushing water below." BellaxEdward, set after New Moon.

Thanks so so so much to bonapuella for editing this and giving me AMAZING suggestions. Check her out, she's an awesome author!

This is set after New Moon, Pre-Eclipse.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

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Jump

"Where are we going?" he asks her, squeezing her hand. She looks so excited, so happy to be here, guiding him through the tall marshy grass and mud.

"You'll see!" she says, teasing him with her smiles and the furtive glances that she keeps shooting him through her eyelashes.

They've snuck out, and he can tell she's thrilled. She suggested it this morning, after Charlie left to go fishing, and Edward was happy to go along. Right now, she's grounded (as she rightfully should be) for sneaking off to Italy to find him. It was irresponsible and he wouldn't have allowed it had he been there, but it worked out well for the both of them and now he's glad she did.

She trips then, over what, he's not sure, and totters forward. She lets out a small gasp, her delicate mouth forming an "o" and distress furrowing her eyebrows. But she needn't worry- his arms are there steadying her and setting her back on her feet.

"Thanks," she mutters, color lighting her cheeks. But in a moment she has forgotten and continues to lead him ahead, to a place only she knows of.

The warm pink flush on her cheeks has not faded, and now he imagines it is from excitement, or maybe the sharp wind nipping at her skin. He studies her as she skips forward, watches her brown eyes shining with anticipation.

He chuckles to himself as he watches her, more spring to her step than he's used to. She is obviously excited about what they're doing, and he can't help but be excited, too.

"Please tell me?" he begs, flashing a crooked sort of smile he knows she can't resist. She looks up at him, and he hears the breath leave her body. She stops walking and stares into his eyes for a moment; he doesn't know how long because he has stopped being aware of time.

Then she finally tears her gleaming eyes away from his and continues walking. "Nope, not yet." She's holding her own today, and it somehow makes him proud of her.

But it's times like these when he wishes he could read her mind.

Of course they were both exponentially happier with it this way, because now Bella is a puzzle to him, full of surprises and a personality that keeps him guessing, the same way he is to her. Every time he thinks he knows what she's going to say, she says something far different. With anyone else, it would irritate him.

With Bella, it's just another reason to love her.

He looks away from her to take in their surroundings. They are walking across a flat plane of faintly yellowed grass, tall but being forced to lie flat by the wind. The ground is slightly soft beneath their feet, mud squelching from last night's rain. The sky is blue, with vague undertones of gray and wispy traces of clouds scattered haphazardly, some in clumps, some floating alone.

As usual, the sun is mostly hidden, with little bursts of light peeking out from high in the sky. He is wearing a windbreaker, same as her, just in case it's sunny. But it's not, so he takes it off and drapes it over his arm. He wears an oatmeal-colored cotton shirt underneath, and debates whether to take that off too.

On one hand, it might overwhelm Bella. On the other, he wants to know where they're going, and whether or not he is wearing a shirt might make a considerable influence on her decision.

So he drops her hand for only a moment to peel the fabric from his skin, revealing his pale chest. Her breath hitches again, and he chuckles softly.

"Where are we going?" he whispers huskily in her ear, and he can hear her heart pounding frantically in her chest. She shivers as he places slow, tantalizing kisses up and down her jaw line. Her eyes flutter shut, and he senses that she's not at all concentrated on his question.

"Hmm, Bella?" He can tell she's about to blurt the answer, it's at the tip of her tongue.

But "not telling!" is what she gasps out as he moves his cool lips to her neck.

"Are you sure?" he inquires very persuasively, kissing upward to her mouth.

She nods frantically, and then places her hands against his icy cold chest. The contact of her warm skin causes his breathing to catch as well, and sends small tremors through his body.

That's enough persuasion for today.

He carefully takes her wrists and moves them away, pulls his lips from her face, and moves a few feet away. But being away is harder than being close, so he immediately comes back and takes her hand again.

She sighs in protest, disappointment in her eyes. He kisses her chastely on the cheek. "Just lead on," he says with a half-hearted smile, and she grins in victory.

He sees a great chasm of empty space in the distance, and realizes that they are at the top of a cliff, not yet at the edge.

"This better be a good surprise," he teases her. Her smile widens, and finally they are at the place where the cliff drops off.

The wispy clouds are fainter here, the sun brighter from behind them. He stares into the distance, at the intricate layers of the rock wall on the opposite side and the thick forest above it.

"Wow," she breathes, her eyes lighting up further as she looks around. She flinches slightly as she peers over the edge, staring down into the clear rushing water at the bottom. It's not so far down, but far enough that he instinctively holds her hand tighter.

"Wow is right," he agrees, pulling her close to him and gently kissing the top of her head. They stand there for awhile, and once again, time has been forgotten, or maybe it just doesn't matter.

"Ready?" she asks, giving him a mischievous grin.

"For what?" he asks. He can't imagine why they are up there, other than to see this beautiful view and to be together.

She slowly unzips her water-proof jacket and it falls in a pile of crinkly gray fabric on the grassy earth at her feet.

"Bella, it's too cold," he objects, raising his eyebrows in bewilderment.

"I'm fine," she insists, smiling again. She's looking at him, waiting for him to understand her idea.

I can't read your mind! He wants to tell her. I don't know! Let me understand.

A thousand possible reasons are flashing through his mind, but none of them seem at all plausible. So he sits quietly and watches. Next off are her tennis shoes, then her socks, and now she is wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a t-shirt.

She smiles again at him, but seems disappointed that he doesn't get it.

What is it? Bella, please tell me! Maybe she can read his mind. But for the life of him, he still cannot fathom what she is doing.

She stands on the edge, staring out at the open air in front of her, at the sharp drop-off of the clip only a few feet away from her toes.

"One, two, three!" she cries and springs forward.

And it hits him, a moment too late, because she is already over the edge and letting out a piercing scream that rings in his ears.

A strangled cry escapes his lips as he watches her fragile body fall, down toward the rushing water below.

His breathing is shallow and uneven. Why is she doing this to him? He thought she was okay, he thought she wanted him back. She'd said the first time wasn't a suicide attempt, and stupidly he'd believed her.

Why couldn't she just say she didn't want him? That would have cut deep enough. But killing herself in front of him? That was ruthless. He was surprised she had it in her. But Bella was surprising him a lot lately. She knew how to hurt him- she only needed to hurt herself.

He wishes he'd died those few days ago, wishes she hadn't come to save him. Then she would be fine and he would get the punishment he deserves.

Of course he deserves it, he knows he does. Leaving her was a selfish choice, but returning was even more self-centered. What made him think he could come back and she would love him again?

All those thoughts have only taken a few milliseconds, and he realizes he can't let her die. He throws himself off the cliff after her, angling his body into a dive so he is as aerodynamic as possible. He falls faster than her, and soon he is next to her in the air. He grabs her around the waist and he can her scream change from elation to confusion.

Her eyes are wide, and she twists in the air as his weight is suddenly added to hers.

He quickly yanks her to the side; there isn't much time left until they will hit the violent water. But they make it to the even ground just in time, and he holds her tight as his feet hit the grass, jarring him slightly and jostling her a little too aggressively.

As soon as he has righted himself, he sets her down and takes her face in his hands.

"Are you okay?" he asks firmly, staring into her eyes, searching for the pain that must have caused her to do this. But there is none that he can find- there is only puzzlement. Is she really that comfortable with death? Did she really think he would let her go?

She nods, but looks somehow dejected. "But, Edward, why did you-"

"Bella, I couldn't let you do that. I'll be gone soon, just let me take you home. I'm sorry to have caused you more pain, and I'm sorry you felt you had to go to this length to get the point across." Had he really misinterpreted her this severely? He cannot hide the anguish in his voice, though he tries. He cannot let her feel guilty for this- it is his fault.

He studies her face again, searching again for the anger and hurt. But her eyebrows are knit in even more confusion now, and it mystifies him.

"You're leaving again?" she whispers, tears coming to the corners of her eyes, and he feels even more baffled and helpless. Then, another look of confusion. "What lengths? What point?" she asks.

"Bella!" He is incredulous. "You just tried to kill yourself! I couldn't let that happen, not again!"

Suddenly she is laughing, almost hysterically, and the tears escape and roll down her flushed cheeks. He is extremely worried now- what has he done to her?

"Why are you laughing?" he demands.

She wipes a tear from her eyes. "Edward," she giggles. "I wasn't trying to kill myself!"

He is dumbfounded. "You weren't?"

She laughs again. "Cliff-diving, Edward! That's what we're doing." She grins, waiting for him to smile too. "It's fun!" she adds.

"Cliff... diving?" he stutters, relief flooding through him. She's okay, she's not suicidal. But how can cliff-diving be fun? What enjoyment could shy, accident-prone Bella possibly find by flinging herself off of cliffs?

"Yes! I wanted you to try it. I did it once," she winced, "with rather unfortunate consequences, but I thought this time would be better. We could do it together!"

He's silent, trying to understand. It seems Bella has changed a lot since he left. Or maybe not at all, and he's just never seen this side of her before.

"Weren't you worried about drowning?" he asks finally. He suddenly isn't sure if he should believe that her.

She shakes her head. "Of course not. I knew you would save me," she says simply, and he finally lets his breathing slow.

She's so trusting. It astounds him how easily she has forgiven him, after he did something so horrible to her. He pulls her close again, relieved that she doesn't want him to leave, and grateful that she didn't want to commit suicide.

She sighs contentedly, then pulls away. "Well, let's go! We've got to try again now."

"You want to do it again?" he splutters. She is amazing, and not always in a good way.

"Of course, Edward, it's why we're here!" She giggles. "Can you carry me up? My legs are tired, and it's sort of far."

He blinks. "You're not doing it again." His voice is firm.

"Yes, I am. And so are you!"

"No, we are not. Bella, I think something happened to your common sense. Don't you understand how dangerous this is?"

She rolls her eyes. "Nothing is dangerous when you're around. Don't tell me you're scared," she mocks.

"Scared for you!"

"Come on!" she insists.

And so he finally pulls her up onto his back and races back up to the top of the cliff.

"At least let me hold on to you," he says, knowing she has her mind set on pulling this impossibly risky stunt.

"Fine. I can live with that. I guess." So he wraps his arms around her waist, a little too tightly.

"Can't breathe," she gasps.

"Sorry," he says sheepishly and loosens his grip. But only slightly. He is not letting anything happen to her.

"Ready?" she asks again, looking meaningfully at him as excitement once again lights up her eyes.

He sighs heavily. "No."

"One, two..." she cries. He grips her tighter. "Three!"

And they launch themselves forward into the empty air and scream- her with exhilarated delight, him because he hasn't let go like this in far too long- as they fall, finally colliding with the icy water.

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