Blood Moon

Missing

We all make decisions we later regret.
This is because we care.
Through all darkness and peril,
Remember that your decisions may change fate.

***

We stand, motionless, in the underused kitchen. Carlisle crosses his arms across his body, and nervously stares at the floor, while Esmé next to him holds a soothing hand on his shoulder. His brow is furrowed into a dark expression, and his mouth is downturned into a scowl that could kill. Rosalie wears that same scowl, and her bright Amber eyes burn with the intensity of a forest fire. Emmet stands beside her, his usual calm and collected exposure dropped completely. He rubs his hands together, a nervous habit.

"So, what do we do?"

Everyone stares at Alice, who asked the question

"You must be able to see who wins this battle," Carlisle pleads.

"I can't. Its dependent on who we choose, right now. Should we stay loyal to the Volturi, or should we betray them in favour of the Romanian coven?"

"I- I don't know," Carlisle sputters. "I can't betray my friends, but I know that they are wrong!"

"It's better if the Volturi are dethroned, this is just one way to do it," Edward says, his eyes cold as ice.

"But what will the Romanians do when they take over? We don't know how evil their intentions are," Esmé objects.

"It's a necessary evil," Rosalie yells.

"No, it's not," Jasper retorts.

"Well, we have to choose, now," Alice screams. "We need to stop bickering and make a decision!"

An tangible silence falls over the room, and the tension of the atmosphere could be cut with a butter knife.

"So, what do we choose," Alice asks.

Carlisle looks up, tears brimming in his eyes. "We have no choice. We have to side with the Volturi."

Several of us look at him, disgruntled and uncomfortable, but we must accept his decision.

"I need to send a message to Aro," Alice says, her eyes half-lidded and tired.

She leaves the kitchen, and Rosalie and Emmet follow. While she walks tiredly, they tromp angrily, almost stomping. They don't want to have to be involved in this.

Edward takes my hand, gently, and holds it in his own, until we are joined by Renesmée, who wraps her arms around our shoulders, and squeezes tightly. Her head makes contact with ours, and we are suddenly struck by all of her worries. I see Jacob, his pallor grey and his eyes clouded over, and then I see all of us, ripped to pieces and burning in the darkness. She lets a teardrop fall from her eye, hot and wet, and it lands on my cheek.

We walk, together, out of the house, and move to our cottage, Edward and I carefully watching over Renesmée as we walk.

"Do you think we'll have to leave soon," asks Renesmée, shyly.

"I don't know," I reply, "but I hope we have some time. We have to take care of the werewolves at the reservation."

"Do you think they might help us?"