Chapter Fifty: The Mortal Toll
The adrenaline finally crashed, leaving nothing but a vast, agonizing wasteland in its wake.
Mame stumbled through the back door of Renée and Phil's house, his boots scraping heavily against the linoleum. The sky outside was already bleeding into the pale, hazy light of dawn, signaling the end of the Night of the Great Purge. The criminal network that had aided the tracker was reduced to ash, but the physical cost of the slaughter had entirely bankrupted Mame's fragile, Rank E body.
He gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, his knuckles white and trembling.
Every single nerve ending was screaming. The violent, repetitive recoil of the stolen 9mm handgun had micro-fractured the delicate bones in his wrists and sent deep, purple bruises blooming all the way up to his shoulders. His ribs throbbed with a sickening ache, a direct result of the extreme G-force he had endured when Jasper yanked him through the air to dodge Scar's bullet. Without his enhanced endurance or kinetic bracers to absorb the shock, his baseline human vessel was fundamentally wrecked.
He coughed, tasting copper, and forced himself to stand straight.
Mame limped down the hallway to the guest bedroom. His duffel bag sat on the floor, next to a small, neatly folded stack of clean clothes he had set aside for Bella hours ago. He grabbed the clothes, his fingers stiff and uncoordinated, and shoved them into a plastic bag.
"I need to get back," Mame rasped to the empty room, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "I have to check on her."
He turned toward the doorway, fully intending to drag himself back to Mercy General Hospital.
Jasper was standing in the hall, perfectly still, entirely blocking his path.
The empath didn't look threatened; he looked deeply concerned. Jasper's golden eyes scanned the boy from head to toe, reading the erratic, fluttering rhythm of Mame's exhausted heart and the sheer volume of physical pain radiating off him like heat from a furnace.
"You aren't going anywhere, Mame," Jasper said, his Southern drawl quiet but firm.
"Move, Jasper," Mame ordered. He tried to project his usual heavy, authoritative command, but his body betrayed him. His knees buckled slightly, forcing him to catch himself against the doorframe.
Jasper didn't budge an inch. "Look at yourself. You are covered in dark bruises. You're pale as a ghost, and you're shaking so hard you can barely hold that bag. If you walk into that hospital room looking like you just crawled out of a war zone, Renée is going to panic. Bella is going to panic."
Mame set his jaw, his dark eyes stubbornly glaring at the vampire.
"If they see you like this, it won't be good," Jasper continued, his tone softening slightly out of a profound, newly earned respect. "It blows the cover story. It puts Bella on edge when she needs to be resting. I will take her clothes to the hospital."
"I need to be there," Mame ground out, his raw willpower fighting a losing battle against his shattered muscles.
"I'll tell them you crashed," Jasper reasoned, gently reaching out and taking the plastic bag from Mame's trembling grip. "I'll say you were still asleep when I left to check on them, and that you needed the rest. It's the truth, Mame. You've done enough tonight. Let me handle this."
For a long, agonizing second, Mame stared at the vampire. He wanted to argue. He wanted to push past him and stand guard outside Bella's door. But as a sharp, blinding spike of pain shot up his spine, Mame finally realized his mortal limits. He couldn't fight right now. If a threat walked into that hospital, he wouldn't even be able to raise his hands.
Mame let out a slow, defeated breath and released his grip on the bag.
"Fine," Mame muttered, leaning heavily against the wall. "But if anything happens—"
"Nothing will happen," Jasper promised. "Edward and Alice are there. I will be there. Get some sleep."
With a sudden blur of motion, Jasper vanished down the hallway. The front door opened and clicked shut before Mame even had time to blink.
The house was empty again.
Mame tried to take a step to follow him, a stubborn instinct refusing to die, but his left leg completely gave out. He collapsed onto the hallway carpet with a heavy thud, gasping as the impact rattled his bruised ribs.
He lay there for a minute, staring at the ceiling, before forcing himself into a slow, agonizing crawl toward the master bathroom.
He pulled himself up using the edge of the vanity and opened Renée's medicine cabinet. He bypassed the generic painkillers and grabbed a heavy tub of mentholated muscle balm and a roll of athletic tape. Stripping off his damp, ash-stained shirt, Mame stared at his reflection in the mirror. His torso was a canvas of deep, mottled purple and yellow contusions.
Working methodically, he slathered the freezing, stinging balm over his shoulders, ribs, and wrists, binding the worst of the strains tightly with the tape to keep his joints stabilized. It was a crude, burning fix, but it was all he had without the System's regenerative perks.
Knowing his human body needed fuel to rebuild the torn tissue, Mame shuffled into the kitchen. He didn't have the energy to cook. He grabbed a loaf of bread and some leftover cold cuts from the fridge, forcing himself to chew and swallow the dry food purely for the caloric intake.
Every movement felt like moving through wet cement.
He didn't even make it back to the guest bedroom. Mame stumbled into the living room and collapsed face-first onto the plush sofa.
His eyes were closed before his head even hit the cushions. Stripped of his powers, his titles, and his arsenal, the fragile human boy finally surrendered to the exhaustion, falling into a deep, heavy darkness where not even the System could wake him.
A few days had passed since the Night of the Great Purge, and the brutal, agonizing wreckage of Mame's physical vessel was finally beginning to stabilize.
He was still strictly bound to his crippled Rank E baseline, but the intense, stabbing pain of his micro-fractures had faded into a dull, manageable ache. The heavy layers of menthol balm and tight athletic tape had done their job. Wearing a loose, long-sleeved gray henley to completely hide the patchwork of dark yellow and purple bruises mapping his arms and torso, Mame finally felt capable of walking without looking like a casualty of war.
He stepped out of the Phoenix heat and into the crisp, air-conditioned lobby of Mercy General Hospital, making his way up to Private Wing B.
When he pushed open the heavy wooden door to Bella's room, the atmosphere was surprisingly light. Edward was notably absent—likely hunting or making arrangements for their eventual return to Forks—but Alice and Jasper were stationed in the corner. Renée was sitting by the bed, flipping through a magazine.
Bella was sitting up, the color fully restored to her cheeks, looking infinitely better than she had a few days prior. As Mame walked in, she arched an eyebrow, a small, teasing smirk playing on her lips.
"Well," Bella said, folding her arms across her chest. "Look who it is. You finally have time to see your sister in the hospital now?"
Mame walked over to the edge of the bed, a soft, genuinely sad smile touching his face. He knew his absence had worried her, even if it was necessary to keep the shadows at bay.
"Sorry, Bells," Mame replied smoothly, his tone light but laced with his usual dry bite. "I just really didn't want to run into a certain weird emo that's usually hovering around here."
From the corner of the room, Alice let out a sudden, bright burst of laughter. Beside her, Jasper's stoic expression broke, a rare, genuine chuckle vibrating in his chest. Even stripped of his supernatural empathy, Mame could tell the two vampires appreciated the jab at their brooding brother.
Renée, however, looked up from her magazine with total, genuine confusion. She blinked, looking between Mame and the laughing Cullens.
"Who's the weird emo?" Renée asked earnestly.
"No one, Mom," Bella said quickly, her cheeks flushing a faint shade of pink. She shot Mame a warning glare before shifting the subject. "The doctor came by earlier, Mame. I'm officially cleared. I get to go home tomorrow."
Mame's dark eyes lit up, a wave of profound relief washing away the lingering exhaustion of the week. The hospital stint was over. The tracker was ash. They had survived.
"That's amazing," Mame said, leaning against the wall. "Well, if you're getting out tomorrow, we definitely need a celebration then. Maybe we can get some food, do a little..."
Mame stopped. He realized the word forming on his tongue a fraction of a second too late, but the momentum of the sentence carried it out into the open air.
"...shopping."
The room went dead silent.
Mame watched in absolute horror as both Alice Cullen and Renée Dwyer slowly turned their heads to look at him at the exact same time. The golden eyes of the vampire and the warm brown eyes of the mother mirrored the exact same terrifying, predatory shine.
"Shopping," Alice repeated, her musical voice dropping into a breathless, dangerous whisper.
"Shopping!" Renée echoed, tossing her magazine onto the side table and practically leaping out of her chair.
Mame took a slow step backward toward the door. "Wait. No. I meant—"
Jasper let out a long, heavy sigh from the corner. He crossed his arms, looking at the human boy with a mixture of profound pity and amusement. "You did this to yourself, Mame."
"It's perfect!" Alice chirped, her pixie-like energy completely taking over the room. She was already mentally mapping out the floor plan of the largest mall in Phoenix. "We can go to the mall at five o'clock. Jasper can stay here and look after Bella, and the three of us can go get everything we need!"
"I don't need a babysitter!" Bella protested immediately, her face flushing red again.
"I don't need any clothes!" Mame argued, trying to pry his hand onto the door handle. "It's a celebration for Bella, not me!"
"Nonsense," Renée waved him off, already grabbing her purse. "We are here, the mall is open, and you've been wearing Phil's oversized shirts for three days. Why not?"
Mame looked at Jasper, silently pleading for the empath to use his gift to calm the two women down, but the Southern vampire just smirked and leaned back against the wall, thoroughly enjoying the anomaly's sudden predicament.
At exactly 5:00 PM, the true nightmare began.
Surviving a biological purge and executing an entire criminal syndicate was child's play compared to being trapped between a hyper-energetic mother and a vampire with an infinite credit card limit.
Mame was dragged relentlessly from store to store. The fluorescent lights of the Phoenix mall burned his eyes, and the endless crowds tested his fragile, mortal patience. Alice moved with a terrifying, calculated efficiency, plucking jackets, shirts, and jeans from the racks and shoving them into Mame's arms before he could even register the colors.
"Try this on," Alice commanded, pointing to the fitting rooms.
"I don't even like blue," Mame grumbled, his arms overloaded with hangers.
"You'll love it when I pair it with the leather jacket," she shot back without missing a beat.
Renée was in her element, thrilled to be spending time with him and entirely oblivious to the fact that Alice was subtly using her preternatural speed to clear paths through the crowded stores. For hours, Mame was subjected to a relentless barrage of fitting rooms, fashion critiques, and heavy shopping bags. He tried to complain, he tried to leverage his stoic, unyielding willpower, but against the combined force of Renée and Alice, he was utterly powerless.
By the time they finally loaded the trunk of the rental car and drove back to Renée's house, the clock on the dashboard read 12:15 AM.
Mame dragged himself through the front door, his Rank E muscles screaming in protest, weighed down by half a dozen shopping bags. He didn't bother turning on the lights. He dropped the bags in the hallway, stumbled blindly into the guest bedroom, and collapsed face-first onto the mattress.
He didn't even have the energy to kick off his shoes.
From the hallway, the soft, chiming laughter of Alice mixed with Renée's warm giggles.
"I think we broke him," Renée whispered.
Mame heard them, but the darkness was already pulling him under, completely and soundly asleep before the bedroom door even clicked shut.
Chapter Fifty-Two: Jacksonville
The "Welcome Home" celebration for Bella was a small, aggressively cheerful affair.
Renée had filled the living room with balloons, ordered a mountain of pizza, and insisted on playing upbeat pop music to drown out the lingering hospital gloom. Bella sat on the center of the couch, her arm in a fresh sling, looking embarrassed but undeniably happy to be out of the sterile hospital wing.
Mame stood near the kitchen island, wearing one of the new, dark fitted shirts Alice had forced upon him the night before. His physical stats were still grounded at a fragile Rank E, and his ribs ached with every breath, but his Willpower was fully operational—and he was currently using it to be an absolute menace.
Edward Cullen was attempting to be the supportive, doting boyfriend, but every time he tried to cross the room to sit next to Bella, Mame flawlessly—and seemingly accidentally—intercepted him.
If Edward moved toward the left side of the couch, Mame suddenly needed to hand Bella a napkin, stepping directly into the vampire's path. If Edward tried to approach from the right, Mame was suddenly there, leaning against the armrest to ask Bella how her pain meds were holding up. Mame was acting as a flawless, physical shield, and his mind was a broadcast of sheer, unapologetic hostility.
Without the Anomaly cloak to block his thoughts, Mame knew Edward could hear every single word echoing in his head. And Mame was making sure the volume was turned all the way up.
Take one more step toward the couch, Edweird, Mame thought, staring blankly at the wall but aiming his internal voice directly at the vampire, and I will spend the next three years of my life figuring out if your sparkly, diamond skin can survive an industrial woodchipper. I bet it takes a while.
Edward froze halfway across the living room. He blinked, a look of profound, wry disbelief crossing his flawless features.
Yeah, that's right, Mame's internal monologue continued, relentless and entirely deadpan. Go stand by the ficus plant. If you touch her injured arm, I'm going to wait until you're asleep—oh wait, you don't sleep. Fine. I'll wait until you're distracted, and I'm going to superglue your favorite vintage piano shut.
Edward let out a soft, defeated sigh that only vampire ears—and a hyper-vigilant older brother—could catch. Knowing Mame had literally sacrificed his own supernatural body to save Bella, Edward accepted the punishment. He offered Bella a warm smile from a safe, Mame-approved distance and retreated to lean against the far wall by the ficus.
Except for the silent, psychological warfare being waged on the telepath, the party was a massive success. Bella was smiling, Renée was glowing, and for a few hours, the shadows of the supernatural world were entirely forgotten.
The peace, however, was brief.
The following evening, the Cullens had tactfully excused themselves to give the family some privacy. The house was quiet as Renée called Bella and Mame into the living room. She was practically vibrating with a nervous, electric energy, a wide smile breaking across her face as she sat them both down on the sofa.
"I talked to Phil today," Renée began, her voice bubbling with excitement. "He got a job! A real, stable coaching job with a minor league team."
"Mom, that's amazing!" Bella said, her face lighting up for her mother.
"It is," Renée agreed, reaching out to grab Bella's good hand. "But... it's in Jacksonville. Florida."
The air in the room suddenly shifted. Bella's smile faltered slightly as the geographical reality set in. Jacksonville was on the complete opposite side of the country from Washington State.
"Florida is beautiful, Bella," Renée pleaded, her eyes wide and hopeful. "It's sunny all year round. There are beaches, great schools... we can finally put all this gloom and rain behind us. You can come live with us. Both of you!" Renée turned her warm gaze to Mame. "Mame, you are absolutely welcome. We have plenty of room, and we'd love to have you."
Mame leaned back in the armchair, his dark eyes softening. Renée's offer was genuine. It was a chance at a completely normal, sun-drenched life, far away from shape-shifters, cold ones, and the looming threat of the Volturi. If he went to Florida, he could just be a human boy.
But he couldn't leave. He knew what was coming to Forks, and he couldn't leave Charlie—or the Quileutes—unprotected.
"I really appreciate that, Renée. I mean it," Mame said, offering her a soft, genuine smile. "But... I have family in Forks, too. Charlie took me in. And I have friends on the reservation. I want to get to know that side of my life a bit more before I uproot again. If that's okay."
Renée's face fell slightly, but she nodded in immediate understanding. She knew Mame's history was complicated, and she respected his independence. "Of course, sweetheart. I understand completely."
Renée turned her full attention back to her daughter, squeezing her hand. "But Bella... you don't have to stay in the rain anymore. You can come to Jacksonville."
Bella looked down at her lap. Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Jacksonville meant the sun she had always craved. It meant living with her mother, avoiding the suffocating, grey dampness of the Pacific Northwest. It was everything she had wanted before she moved to Forks.
But Forks had Edward.
Forks had a dangerous, beautiful, terrifying world that she realized she could no longer live without. If she moved to Florida, she was choosing the sun, but she would be giving up her heart.
Bella took a deep, shaky breath and looked up at her mother.
"Mom... I want to go back to Forks," Bella said softly, her voice carrying a quiet but absolute certainty. "I want to live with Charlie."
Renée stared at her daughter, her heart breaking just a little as the realization washed over her. She saw the look in Bella's eyes—a look that had nothing to do with the weather or the town, and everything to do with the boy who had been standing guard in the hospital lobby.
"Oh, Bella," Renée whispered, her voice tight with emotion. She pulled her daughter into a gentle hug, careful of her bandaged arm. "You're really staying for him, aren't you?"
Bella didn't answer out loud, but she returned the hug tightly.
Sitting in the armchair, Mame watched the exchange in silence. He felt a sharp pang of protective anxiety knowing Bella was willingly tethering herself to a world of monsters. But as he looked at his sister's resolute expression, he knew the narrative was locked. They were going back to the rain. They were going back to the vampires.
Mame closed his eyes, mentally cataloging his inventory and his zeroed-out Fate Points. He had a lot of work to do the second they landed in Washington.
The next morning, the small house in Phoenix was a whirlwind of cardboard boxes, packing tape, and chaotic energy. Renée was in full moving mode, bouncing between packing for her new life in Jacksonville and helping Mame and Bella gather their things for the flight back to Washington.
Around noon, Renée dragged Mame out to the local hardware store to buy heavier shipping boxes and bubble wrap. Mame had agreed without a fight, using his iron Willpower to mask the limp in his step and the exhausting ache in his Rank E muscles as he followed her out to the rental car.
For the first time in days, Bella was left entirely alone in the quiet house.
She sat on the edge of her bed, her bandaged arm resting gently in her lap. The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting long, golden shadows across her room.
A soft, almost imperceptible rustle of fabric sounded from the open window.
Bella didn't jump. She just smiled slightly and turned her head as Edward stepped seamlessly into the room, his movements so fluid and silent he seemed to simply materialize from the sunlight. He looked flawless, his golden eyes warm as he crossed the small space and sat carefully on the edge of her mattress, leaving a Mame-approved margin of distance between them.
"Your mother and brother are at the store," Edward said softly, his voice a smooth, magnetic hum. "I thought I would take the opportunity to see you without being mentally threatened with a woodchipper."
Bella let out a soft laugh, though it lacked its usual lightness. "Mame is just... Mame. He's overprotective. But he's fine. Nothing ever really hurts him."
Edward's expression flickered. A dark, complicated shadow passed over his golden eyes as the memory of Mame's exhausted, crippled mind—and the knowledge of what the boy had swallowed to save her—flared in his memory. He didn't correct her. He couldn't.
Bella looked down at the thick white bandages wrapping her forearm. The atmosphere in the room shifted, growing heavy and serious.
"Edward," Bella started, her voice dropping to a quiet, hesitant whisper. "I remember the studio. Not everything, but... I remember the bite."
Edward stiffened. His hands clenched into fists resting on his knees, his jaw tightening so hard the marble-like skin seemed to crackle. "Bella, please. You don't need to dwell on that."
"But I do," she insisted, looking up to meet his tortured gaze. "I felt the fire. I felt the venom in my blood. I know what it was doing to me." She paused, her brown eyes searching his desperately. "Why didn't you just let it spread?"
The absolute horror that washed over Edward's face was devastating. He looked as if she had just struck him.
"How can you even ask me that?" Edward breathed, his voice vibrating with a sudden, raw anguish. He stood up abruptly, pacing to the opposite side of the small bedroom as if simply being near her while she asked that question was physically painful.
"Because I want to be with you," Bella said, her voice steady despite the intensity of his reaction. "If I was like you, I wouldn't be so fragile. Mame wouldn't have to constantly risk his life to protect me, and I wouldn't have to worry about growing old while you stay exactly the same. We could just... be."
"You have no idea what you are asking," Edward said, spinning around to face her. His eyes were wide, filled with a centuries-old grief. "You don't know what this life is, Bella. It is a curse."
"It's a way for us to be together," she argued stubbornly.
"It is a death sentence for your soul!" Edward practically begged, stepping back toward the bed but refusing to reach out to her. "Do you think I would ever do that to you? Do you think I would steal your humanity, your future, your soul, just so I could be selfish and keep you beside me?"
Bella flinched slightly at the intensity in his voice. "Edward—"
"No, listen to me," Edward interrupted, his tone fierce and uncompromising. "I watched you bleeding out on that floor. I saw the fire in your veins. I watched your brother do things... sacrifice things... that you cannot even comprehend, just to ensure that poison didn't take you."
Edward took a shaky breath, forcing the image of Mame's broken, bruised body out of his mind. He couldn't reveal the boy's secret, but the weight of Mame's sacrifice fueled his absolute refusal.
"I will never turn you, Bella," Edward vowed, his voice dropping to a solemn, unbreakable promise. "I would rather die myself than be the monster that damns your soul to this twilight. You are human. You are going to stay human. I will not let anything, or anyone, take that away from you."
Bella stared at him, the stubborn set of her jaw trembling slightly against the sheer, overwhelming conviction in his eyes. She didn't fully understand the depth of the trauma he was referencing, still believing Mame was the invincible Fate-Breaker, but she understood one thing perfectly clear.
Edward would never give her the venom. If she wanted to step into his world permanently, she was going to have to find another way.