Thank you, Ham and LivieLiv!

SM OWNS TWILIGHT. This plot is mine.

Chapter One

I sit with my back against the corner of the table, and watch her. Her chest is barely moving and her legs shake. She's losing too much blood, but I can't bring myself to move her.

I watched the light leave her eyes, her finger slipping off the trigger. She'd do it, it was all I needed. The proof, knowing I was enough, that I was the reason.

I've pried the gun out of her hand. Her fragile skin is pale and cold against my own. She was seconds away from ending it. From ending us. Me.

She's bleeding out. Her stomach is covered and soaked. But I can't stop myself from running my fingers through it, drawing designs in the blood for her. Hoping she feels me with her.

Jasper's on the floor. His blue eyes are open wide and I can't help but smile at him. I know he saw it when he opened the door. There is no way he didn't recognize her. That smile, those dark brown eyes.

She's a drug. My drug. An addiction you can't give up.

Isabella was his once. Only for a moment, but I know he never forgot her.

That face, those lips.

She's absolutely breathtaking when she smiles. Her eyes crinkle and her nose scrunches. She makes the pain go away. She makes things seem simpler.

She gives me a peace that seems forever lost to you.

And even though his dead fingers clutched at it once, I'd won. The heart thumping in her chest, beating a slow melodic tune was only meant for one person: me. She is mine. She was always mine.

"Edward!" Carlisle all but breaks down the door. His grey eyes have tears in them and he's shaking when his gaze lands on the floor, in my lap. "Is she..."

"She's alive." I move to sit up and she whimpers. "I need you to fix her."

The scalpel is still stuck in my skin, a throbbing pain reminding me how close she came to puncturing my heart. If she wasn't lying in a pool of her own blood, I'd hug her to my chest.

It was about damn time she got angry. Showed me the woman behind the mask that I knew lurked there.

"Her wounds aren't deep, but she's lost blood." I lift my hands, both covered in her blood and dripping to the floor.

"Jesus, Edward, she could die." He takes a quick step toward us and stops.

"She will die if you don't stop staring." He will too if she does.

His eyes move to mine, and I know he sees it. I'll kill him over her. I'd kill his wife, his sister. I'd kill anyone that touched her. That hurt her. Looked at her wrong. Looked like her.

He moves her quickly to the table, allowing me to stand. I push Jasper with my boot.

"I gotta do something about this one."

Carlisle barely looks down at Jasper as I stand above the body. He's always been in my way. If I had known being in Isabella's path was the way to truly dispose of him, I would have planned this years ago.

Instead, I have a body to remove and not a lot of time to do it.

"Did you do that?"

"Would you believe it was her? All it took was Jasper not wanting to help me." I laugh, the feeling of pride over my girl's actions filling me as I step over Jasper.

"There's a kit under the table." I wave my hand as Carlisle begins cleaning her wound. The more he touches her, the harder my fists begin to clench, and I have to look away.

I know he needs to do this. That he'll save her. But it doesn't stomp the craving to snap his neck.

"You need to remove that." Carlisle is looking at the scalpel sticking out of my chest as he fumbles with my bag.

"Not now." I reach in my pants and pull out a cigarette. "I just need coffee."

"No, I need your help. You have no anesthesia and this will wake her up. You're going to have to hold her arms down so I can work."

Fuck. I light my cigarette that's covered in her blood, and stare at the smoke as it trails over her body.

"Prep her while I smoke." I know he's pissed, but he knows better than to think I don't care about her. I just need a minute.

"Talk to me, Edward."

"She came to see me," I mutter, shaking my head. "Why the fuck would she do that?"

"Damn it." He's shaking his head as he pulls the lamp closer to her stomach.

"Yeah." I inhale, enjoying the burn as the smoke lashes at my throat. "She'd been to the jail so many times, but she would never talk to me."

She would come to see me, only to have Charlie or one of his pining lackeys talk her out of it. I always wondered what went through her mind when she signed her name on my book.

"You were supposed to leave her alone, Edward." He turns to me, and I can see the doctor and father fighting one another.

One side of him wants to protect her, protect me. Protect us from one another.

The other wants me happy.

I want both to fuck off, to keep out of my business like he promised.

"I DID!" The saw I was playing with earlier slams into the wall across from us.

"I know you love her. But it's not the right kind of love, it's not how you're supposed to love her. You left to protect her, Edward. Why the hell would you go back there?"

"I can't stay away from her. I'm like some fucked up junkie with her. She has this fucking power over me, Carlisle." I laugh, my cigarette hanging out of my mouth. "The worst part? She has no fucking clue." If she did, I'd be in trouble.

"You have to let her go this time. I can take her with me to the hospital, get her proper treatment. But you need to go, leave this place for good." I know he thinks he knows best, that he could help her, but he's wrong.

"No. No I can't do that." I press my fingers around the wound she gave me, watching as blood trails down my chest and over my tattoo. Her tattoo.

"You can. You just don't want to."

Exactly.

"You couldn't have brought me some coffee, could you?" I rub my palms over my eyes, wishing he would hurry the fuck up.

"Your wife is dying on this table and that's all you can think about?" He's angry and I don't blame him.

I shrug. Of course she's on my fucking mind, but so is coffee.

I wake up to Isabella. I taste her on my tongue when she isn't there and I hear her when she doesn't speak. She's always... always fucking with me. She's never not there. She's the voice in my head telling me I'm better than this.

The one that fights me on every decision.

She's kissing me. Loving me. Hating me.

She's always with me. Always.

I grab the alcohol I keep hidden here and pour it over my chest, hoping to kill any infection and distract me. "Mother fucker!" I pull hard, watching as the metal lands on the floor at my feet.

"Do you just enjoy the pain?"

I cut my eyes at him, the anger burning in them, quieting him as he turns back to Isabella.

"Put the cigarette out and come help me before she dies."

"Kill her and I'll kill you." I stomp the lit end in the concrete. Taking a deep pull from the bottle I move closer to help.

"Alright. I need you to just watch her. Keep your eyes on her because she will scream and this will hurt her." I lock eyes with him, reminding myself that he's helping, that if I kill him she might not survive.

I lace my fingers with Isabella's, pulling them over her head and I kiss her cold lips. "I got this."

"I just need you to focus on her and not on me. Remember I'm helping her, okay?"

I know he's worried I'll snap. I probably will. "Any day now."

He takes a deep breath and nods at me before he picking up the needle. I watch her eyes fly open, tears already spilling as she looks around the room. She's scared and screaming, her voice breaking as her fingers tighten in mine.

"I got you, baby." I lay my cheek against her, kissing her, breathing into her ear, promising I'll take care of her and letting her screams pierce my soul.

"Just keep her still."

I want to push him off her as her tears stains my cheeks. But I hold her down, knowing she could hurt herself. "Just listen to my voice. We're going to be together, you and me," I tell her, listening as her cries turn to a silent sob. "Carlisle's gotta fix you first. Then it's just us. Just like we planned."

I know Carlisle's in the background somewhere, trying his best to soothe her. I know he'll do whatever he can to help her, to keep her safe.

He's more worried about her than the child he raised. I can't hate him for it.

Especially right now.

"You're almost done," I tell her, hoping like hell it helps. With every tear I can feel another crack in my icy heart. It makes my instinct to punish grow.

By the time Carlisle is done stitching up her insides, my fingers are wrapped so tightly in hers they burn.

I'm not even sure if it's her, me, or both of us wanting to hurt the other.

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