CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:

I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, heart stopping with fear and tears on my face. Cackling, high-pitched laughter lingered in my ears, as did the screaming and the thump of dead bodies. Ghost faces flashed before my eyes and whispers of unquiet spirits egged me forwards while pulling me back.

I hadn't been dreaming of a specific event; it had been a combination of all the horrific things that had happened to or before me, but it had ended with two words. Avada Kedavra.

My stomach twisted violently and I barely noticed Edward supporting me as I lunged for the bathroom and emptied it. I was shaking and shivering, and he was trying to soothe me but all I could see was Sue's lifeless face in that coffin, all I could smell was smoke and blood.

Some part of me noted that I was having a panic attack, even as my legs stopped supporting me. I couldn't stand, couldn't speak, couldn't breathe.

My face is practically numb, but I can still feel the icy cold of lips on my forehead.

It takes nearly ten minutes for my panic to recede and I'm exhausted and shivering, but my heart rate has slowed and I can breathe properly again. Edward, who's holding me cradled to his chest, looks relieved beyond words.

"Can you speak now?" he asks gently and I nod, tiredly, resting heavily on him. He kisses my forehead and stands up, easily lifting me and carrying me back to my bedroom where he lays me gently on the bed, tucking me under the covers before laying down next to me, on top of the thick blankets.

"I suppose we should have expected the nightmares," he says, quietly.

"Yeah." I agree, my voice just as quiet. He strokes my sweaty forehead with his icy hands and I lean into the touch. "Thank you. For being here." I tell him, and he looks at me, golden eyes burning with sincerity.

"Forever."

-

I groaned as I was dragged kicking and screaming from Morpheus' sweet grasp, opening my eyes to a plate of pancakes covered with strawberries and whipped cream. I blink, staring at the tower of sweet soft red fruits blearily, my mind still half-asleep. Edward lets go of the shoulder he was lightly shaking to wake me up, and smiles. "Good morning, love."

"Wazime?" I yawn.

"Pardon?" He asks, amused.

"What's the time?" I repeat, this time more legibly.

"It's seven thirty." He says and my eyes widen with horror.

"Why am I awake this early?" I demand and he has the nerve to laugh, eyes alight with mischief.

"Finals start today," he says, and I groan- loudly.

"Great. Just great." I say, sourly.

After I've eaten the pancakes Edward kisses me then leaves for his house. His whole giving me privacy while I get dressed is something I don't exactly understand seeing as he's seen me naked—and on more then one occasion—but I just accept it as part of how he was raised.

I'm tired and my body feels heavy as I pull on a pair of jeans and a white button up shirt. I pause mid-buttoning and frown. Against the stark white material of my shirt, I can't help but notice how my nails look sort of yellow-ish. Jaundice, my brain supplied me with, and my frown deepens as I pull on a red cardigan over the white shirt, the red material not contrasting the way the white did.

As I go into the bathroom, I examine my eyes up close in the mirror. It's not obvious and I'd have missed it if I wasn't looking for it exactly, but there was a slight yellow tinge to the whites.

My blood sugar levels must be really low, I realized, and I decided to buy some juice, and maybe glucose tablets if the juice didn't show any improvements. I should probably ask Qiang to give me a check-up when she arrived back in America too, I thought with a sigh at the thought of an impending scolding for getting myself injured.

After brushing my teeth I carefully rolled up my cardigan and shirt, revealing the long, thick scar down my left side. Carlisle had provided me with anti-scarring gel that was supposed to help reduce the keloid, making them softer, smoother and less noticeable- not that this one would ever be anything less then noticeable, no matter how soft or smooth it was, I can't help but think a touch bitterly.

I bit down hard on my lip as I gingerly applied the gel for the first time. The contact with the scar increased the general throbbing which had yet to fade into a stabbing pain that had me inhale sharply, and I took several quick, shallow breaths as I quickly spread the gel.

The toilet was next, and I sat down on the cold seat, slumping slightly and rubbing my eyes. Seeing as I was half dozing, it took me a few minutes to realize I didn't actually need to go, which was sort of weird because this was the usual time I emptied my bladder.

Putting it down to anxiety about today's upcoming exam, I stood up and flushed anyway, washing my hands before moving back to my bedroom. A check of the clock told me that Edward would be returning to pick me up in his car in about ten minutes, so I lay back down on the bed, deciding to close my eyes just for a moment.

"Bella? Bella?"

"Huh?" I blinked several times, Edward's face coming into focus above me. "Edward?"

"You fell back asleep, love." He said as my mind struggled to figure out what was going on.

"Oh," I realize, pushing myself back up. Edward holds out a hand that I accept, letting him help tug me to my feet.

"Are you okay, love? You seem quite tired." He says, concerned, and I shake my head.

"Just catching up on some sleep." I tell him.

-

Stepping out of the Volvo, into the school car park, my first impression was that it was a mistake to come. That impression didn't change as the week continued.

The anxiety I'd felt at the funeral and Order of Merlin ceremony had returned, and without the Calming potion every loud noise had me either jump or freeze. Fear prickled continuously along my spine, sending flecks of ice through my veins that left me at times unable to stop shivering. Both the open space of the school grounds and then the boxed-in classrooms left me feeling vulnerable and tense in a way they never had before.

Even Edward's constant presence beside me did little to calm the panic clawing under the surface, fighting to take over, to leave me curled up in a corner, rocking and crying and reflexively cursing anything that moved.

The stress had left me tired and queasy with a semi-constant headache and a rash, and my back hurt from all the sitting in the straight-backed chairs.

Katie sat two rows in front of me during the exams we shared, and I found my eyes continuously flick over to her slight figure, bent over her exam paper, almost as a way to reassure myself. Her missing arm had gained her many stares and hushed whispers, but no one had actually asked her what happened- something I was aware of due to the fact Angela snapped and snarled as fiercely as a vampire whenever anyone tried to approach her girlfriend.

After the first day back especially, I seriously considered just ditching finals. Really, I had. But I was stubborn, and the scared creature shying at her classmates was not who I was, and not who I'd give in to- ever.

I was beyond mere determination that this wouldn't be forever; I'd work through it with my family and those that I loved as Edward and I carved out our own little niche in the world, side-by-side.

Edward and Alice protected me from curious students, like Angela protected Katie. When Mike tried approaching me after the English exam Alice had seemingly appeared out of nowhere and literally growled at him, baring her sharp, too-white teeth in his direction. He'd turned almost grey, his instincts screaming at him what his mind could not process, stumbling away from her, running like a dog with its tail between its legs.

I had six exams I needed to sit, four the first week and two the second. The finals stretched over three weeks, ending on the Wednesday of the third week, and then Friday was graduation.

After the first week, Friday night I collapsed on my bed and slept nearly fifteen hours straight until Edward actually woke me up, his face tight and anxious.

"Are you feeling alright?" He kept asking, to which I'd honestly reply that I felt exhausted, drained, the scar along my scar ached something fierce and all my stressing had given me a rash. Edward had Carlisle write up a prescription for me for some kind of medical ointment that was supposed to sooth and treat rashes, but I personally felt it did little good.

I'd had four more nightmares that ended with me crying, and two of those had devolved into panic attacks that Edward had soothed me through.

I didn't see Luna much now that she'd moved in with the Cullens, so busy with the stress of finals, but I did catch a few minutes with her every day as Edward dropped Alice off back at the Cullen's manor-like house after school.

Biology was my last final, and Edward and I spent the whole weekend when I wasn't sleeping revising for the two and a half hour exam on Wednesday.

Impossibly, even after sleeping in as long as I wanted to, I found I was still exhausted. I could tell Edward was getting more and more worried, but I couldn't bring myself to really be bothered by it. The stress of finals and the severe anxiety I was experiencing left me exhausted- I wasn't surprised I was sleeping so much, though I did think that I should feel more rested after my fifteen hours on Friday night, and then nearly fourteen Saturday night, having dozed off on the couch at around nine pm and not waking until past eleven am in my own bed, either Charlie or Edward having carried me to my bedroom.

After a late breakfast- or early lunch, really- I apparated over to the Cullen's manor-like home. The Cullens had gone hunting, Luna was tending to a comatose Snape, and I migrated up to Edward's room to do some studying on my own, which was almost worse then revising with my slave-driver fiancé because at least his presence gave me actual motivation to force myself to do the work. I had just seriously started to consider setting my biology textbook on fire, when I heard Malfoy groan. It wasn't the sort of groan that meant he was enjoying himself a little too much while I was only one room away, either.

I cautiously opened the door to the room next to Edward's where Malfoy was staying. The platinum-blond older boy was tossing and turning in the bed. He was tangled in the sheets, his normal pale face was flushed and wet, and his mouth was twisted into some sort of terrible grimace. I cringed as he let out a choked groan, his whole body shaking as if trapped in the grip of some terrible nightmare.

And he was crying, I realized with a start; he was crying in his sleep. For a long moment I just stood there, not sure what to do as I stared across at the distressed older boy. A part of me wanted to turn around and leave him to suffer, to be tortured by his subconscious mind. Unfortunately, that part was overshadowed by my conscience.

How frustrating.

I crossed the room and grabbed Malfoy's shoulder, shaking it. It took a minute or two to fully pull him out of the nightmare, and when he jolted up into a sitting position, he was making gasping noises, body shaking violently. He buried his head in his hands and I could hear the strangled sobs he was trying to repress.

Sighing, I sat down on the edge of his bed. "Want to talk about it?" I offer, after a pause.

"Not really." He says, hoarsely, eyes still hidden by his hands, not meeting mine.

"Good." I mutter. "Because angsting with you is quite frankly the last thing I feel like doing."

"Then why did you even come in here?" He looks up now and meets my gaze, all gaunt and swollen-eyed, but with the tears now under control.

"It's called human decency. You should look into it." He looks down, and I can see the shame clear on his face.

"I don't blame you. For hating me." He says, quietly. "I hate me too. I don't know what she sees in me."

"That makes two of us."

"But I'm selfish." He continues like I haven't spoken, looking up again to meet my eyes, this time with a steel in the grey present that he'd lacked a moment ago. "I should leave, get as far away from her as I can. Let her fall for someone like Longbottom, someone who's brave and courageous and good- someone she deserves. Someone worthy of her. But I can't- I need her. She makes me feel human; she gives me strength I don't realize I have. She makes me the best person I can be. I love her."

"It's the ones we love we hurt the most." I warn him, agitatedly tugging on the end of my ponytail. The spacey bedroom suddenly feels like a coffin; too small, too dark, too stale. "If you hurt her, I will kill you. I will actually kill you." I tell him, and I'm not exaggerating. He meets my hard gaze, calm and accepting. He doesn't need words and neither do I. I stand, giving him a sharp nod before leaving the room.

-

Monday morning was a bad one. I'd had a nightmare and when Edward gently shook my shoulder to wake me up in the morning for school I had to resist the temptation to ignore him, to curl myself tighter and never leave my bed. Instead I forced myself to wrap frail bravery around my shoulders and stand up. My throat was sore and when I started coughing Edward was instantly checking my temperature. I batted half-heartedly at his hand, but didn't really care. He looked worried.

"You don't have a temperature, but you look unwell," he says, which feels like the understatement of the century.

"Stress lowers the immune system," I mumble, wincing and rubbing my throat. "I think I've picked up some sort of bug. My throat hurts, but that could just be from the... dream." Screaming during my sleep was something I knew I'd done before, and even though no one had told me if I had, I'd bet I was screaming myself hoarse before finally waking up when the nightmare released me from its iron shackles.

"Three more days and then you can sleep all you want, or we can curl up on the couch with soup and a blanket and watch movies and read." Edward promises and I sigh in relief.

The exam finishes a little before lunch, and I'm poking the food on my plate with my fork, not actually eating it, though I did have a yoghurt earlier to help with my throat, when Alice perched on the side of the table.

"I have foreseen," she began in an ominous tone. Edward threw an elbow towards her ribs which she neatly dodged. "Fine," she grumbled, "Edward is making me do this, but I did foresee that you would be more difficult if I surprised you."

"In English?" I requested, trying not to yawn and offend her.

"Don't be a baby about this," she orders, "no tantrums."

"Now I'm scared." I say, already resigned.

"So you're—I mean we're—having a graduation party. It's no big thing. Nothing to freak out over. But I saw that you would freak out if I tried to make a surprise party," she danced out of the way as Edward reached over to muss her hair, "and Edward said I had to tell you. But it's nothing. Promise."

I sighed heavily. "Is there any point in arguing?"

"None at all."

"I'll be there. And I'll hate every minute of it. Promise." I said, darkly, and she beamed.

"That's the spirit! By the way, I love my gift. You shouldn't have."

"Alice, I didn't." I point out and she giggles.

"Oh, I know that. But you will."

I tried to rack my foggy brain in panic, straining to remember what I could have decided to get her for graduation that she might have seen, but I was coming up empty.

"Amazing," Edward says, beside me. "How can someone so tiny be so annoying?"

Alice laughed. "It's a talent." She then frowns. "You look like crap, Bella. Make sure you get better in time for the party, I can only do so much to make you look glamorous- you have to put in some of the work yourself." I roll my eyes, not taking offense as I can clearly hear the teasing in her voice, even underlined with concern.

"It's just a bug," I say. As if waiting for that exact moment, my stomach rolls violently and, knowing that I won't make it to the bathroom in time and desperately wanting to avoid making a huge scene (and mess) in the cafeteria in front of so many people, I grab Alice's handbag. I take a second to hold it upside down, emptying its contents on the table, before vomiting into the designer bag with a price tag that would undoubtedly make me faint with shock.

I ignored Alice's indignant squawking, too busy heaving up what felt like my entire stomach lining. When I finally stop retching, I push the bag away and let my head rest tiredly on the table. I don't know if anyone's staring or not, and in this moment I don't even care. I feel like absolute crap; my headache is back, my chest feels tight, my throat hurts even worse then it did this morning and my back is radiating pain up and down my spine.

"I'll take her home," I hear Edward murmur, and I tiredly let him led me out of the cafeteria, picking me up once we're out of sight of our curious peers.

I'm asleep before we even reach the Volvo and when I wake up its several hours later and I'm in bed. Some wonderful, kind, thoughtful, saint-like soul put advil and a glass of water on my bedside table and I swallow the medication gratefully before shakily getting to my feet as my bladder feels like it's going to burst, the uncomfortable sensation that woke me up in the first place.

I make it into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me, before the dizziness really hits. It feels like my head is getting smaller by the second and my eyes feel like they're going to bounce out of my skull. I grab the sink for balance, trying to take deep, calming breaths, but my breathing just comes faster and gets caught in my raw throat despite my best efforts to steady it. I cough and cough and cough until blood begins to splatter on the white ceramic of the sink.

That's the point where I finally realized something was seriously wrong, but the strength was sapping from my body alarmingly fast, and I hit the tiles with a thump. A strangled yelp of pain escaped as my left side exploded in pain along the scar, white-hot and agonizing and like it had been ripped open again, and I could hear Bellatrix's insane laughter drowning out my own scream.

There were white spots in my vision as I started up my coughing again, and I couldn't breathe and there was blood-too-much-blood. The seizure that hit me—hard—had my limbs jerking spasmodically; I was already soaked in sweat but as I lost control of my sphincters, my bladder gave out and I was choking on my own saliva, blood and stomach acids. Tears mixed with blood and mucus, and my head hit the floor with a sickening smack, one, twice, thrice. It only got worse before it started easing off, but I couldn't even find it within myself to feel relieved, to feel anything but pain and exhaustion.

Something was terribly wrong, was horribly, horribly bad; something that I'd missed, that we'd all missed.

And I was pretty sure that I was dying. I could feel in my chest, in the roaring in my ears, my heart struggling to beat, so staggered and slow. Different muscles twitched from stabs of pain. Only trace amounts of air came and left my lungs as I fought to take haggard breaths. Slowly... slowly I could feel everything begin to stop working.

The door was literally ripped off its hinges and cold hands were lifting me. My vision was sort of blurry, and I thought it might be a concussion, but I knew whose arms were holding me, the chest I was pressed against; I knew them as well as I knew my own body.

"Shh, just hold on sweetheart," my angel's voice was crooning, and I listened to those soft words.

I could hear the wind, but I was tucked into my protector's chest, protected (always protected, always loved). Then we weren't outside anymore, we were somewhere that smelt sharp and clean.

"Edward, you need to let go," a familiar voice, Carlisle, said, firmly.

"What's wrong with her?" Edward growled.

"The blood-work came back," Carlisle says, and my foggy brain struggles to focus, wondering when I'd given a blood sample, then realizing Edward must have taken it while I was unconscious. "It... it wasn't good, son." Carlisle's voice is suddenly grave, and Edward lets out a fierce growl. "There's a high level of toxicity in her blood- from the toxicity levels, the symptoms you've given me, and the seizure Alice saw in her vision, my professional opinion is that different systems in her body are shutting down."

Edward makes a furious sound, even as he places me gently on a surface that feels soft, malleable; a mattress, I think. My eyelids are too heavy to open, and I stop fighting them.

"How did this happen?" Edward demands.

"Unless someone's given her arsenic, then my guess is she was poisoned somehow during the battle." Carlisle says, and I want to open my eyes, to talk, to demand what he's talking about, but instead I cough weakly, blood splattering down my chin, and cool hands turn my head so I don't choke on my own blood.

"Luna's getting Qiang," Carlisle said, grimly. "There's nothing I can do for her, even if I had the finest medical equipment and the world's most talented surgeons by my side."

"How did this happen so quickly?" Edward asks; frustrated, frantic, desperate. "Surely the progression should have been slower, or the symptoms presented themselves quicker. She went from having a sore throat to coughing up blood in under twelve hours!"

"That is an unnatural and unlikely progression, but we have to realize that there are new rules, Edward. For all we know, this could be perfectly natural development in symptoms for whatever's poisoned her for a witch. Bella has barely been around Luna, let alone seen a trained Healer. We should have realized that the physical check-up I gave her wouldn't account for any spell-damage."

No! I want to tell him, to scream at him; it's not his fault, I should have thought to see a Healer. Without any immediately threatening injuries I'd been perfectly content to wait for Qiang, while under my skin a curse worked to poison me, killing me from the inside.

As if reacting to my thoughts, my body started to shake violently, my muscles going into spasms. There's a brief prick of pain in my upper arm and then cold hands are just barely touching my shoulders, before they're removed. "Why can't I touch her?" Hissed Edward, reacting to something Carlisle thought.

"You can't hold down someone having a seizure- you'll hurt them more. We wait it out. I've given her the acetazolamide, it shouldn't last any longer then ninety seconds." Carlisle said, voice calm, but over the roaring of blood in my ears I could hear the undertones of stress.

He's right, my body does stop its movements but I can barely breathe anymore my chest feels so tight, and my already slow, uneven heartbeat starts faltering as my body is deprived of oxygen. Carlisle curses softly. "I'm going to have to attach a ventilator." He says.

Cold air brushes against my ear as Edward pleads, "Please keep breathing, Bella!" I try to do as he says, which becomes infinitely easier when tubes are inserted in my nose and I don't have to work so hard anymore. I can feel Edward's lips pressing against my forehead. "Oh Bella," he whispers, sounding tortured.

"Edward," Carlisle says and Edward is suddenly standing and snarling fiercely.

"No!"

"Edward," Carlisle's voice is gently rebuking. "You must look at every possibility. Bella is dying. With every minute that passes, her body is further poisoning itself as it shuts down. Her respiratory system has practically failed, her renal, gastrointestinal and neurological systems are well on their way to failure, and her blood is practically a toxic substance by now."

"I know that!" Edward says, furious.

"Son, our venom could be the only solution. This is advancing so rapidly, impossibly so by normal standards, that there's nothing I can do outside of trying to keep her heart beating- except for turning her."

"You don't understand," Edward sounds tortured, "she doesn't want to be Turned, Carlisle."

"What?" Carlisle sounds shocked. "But- you're engaged! If she isn't Turned, then even if she survives this, she'll only have another approximately sixty-five years!"

"If she's Turned she loses her magic." Edward says it so quietly that I barely hear it.

"She won't give up her magic for you?" Carlisle asks, and Edward snarls again, furious-sounding, and I want to snarl too.

Of course I'd give up my magic for him! I'd give it up in a second and without hesitation! I'd do anything for Edward- I'd die for him, and I'd live for him too- if that meant losing my magic and becoming a crystallized predator then I'd do it in a heartbeat (which, in reflection, isn't the best choice of words).

"Bella is the most selfless person I know," Edward's voice is furious, "and for those she loves, she'll give up everything without even thinking twice. And that's why she doesn't want to be Turned, because if she is Turned, she can't protect us from her monsters. I don't know what she's thinking now that the Battle of Hogwarts is over, but I do know that I would never forgive myself if I went against what she's said she wants, ripping away a part of her that's as precious as her heart."

"I am sorry, Edward." Carlisle says, genuinely apologetic. "I worded that badly. Forgive me." Edward doesn't say anything, just sits back down beside me, running cool, slender fingers along my sweaty, heated forehead.

The exhaustion is starting to take over, and I'm drifting in and out of awareness, picking up the briefest snippets of conversation. The last thing I really remember is Edward's cool lips brushing against my forehead.