This is the last out of the outtakes. Sorry it took so long to post...I forgot about it . lol. Have a single shot futuretake in mind, but it won't be up for quite some time. Have Our House and Blister in the Sun to finish, Rusted to start, and a futuretake for Hush Little Baby to get up. Sigh.

Unbeta'd: Sorry for the mess. This was written before the final version so some events may not match up, but it shouldn't cause any problems.

Outtake Part 3

You're so quiet these days, and the light within you dims as your weight diminishes, the circles beneath your eyes grow, the tremble in your hands become even stronger. He's killing you, and I wish I could save you like I work endlessly to save him.

Whitlock swings his eyes from you to me and then back to you, his mind churning behind those dim blues. "I'm fine, Dr. Cullen. Just so tired. I feel so tired all the time."

I nod my head, tucking my hands into my coat's pockets. "Any day now, Mr. Whitlock, we expect good news."

He closes his eyes, his smile wistful. "Do me a favor, Dr. Cullen?"

I hesitate. "Sure."

"Will you take Isabella home? She hasn't had a good night's rest in forever."

You startle, grabbing onto his sheets. "I don't think that's a good idea."

He waves you off. "Just for tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."

I hold the door open, waiting for you to gather your things. "Come on, Mrs. Whitlock. I don't mind."

It isn't until we're in the elevator, riding the car down to the empty parking lot that you say, "I thought I told you to call me Bella."

"How have you been, Bella? Truthfully."

You sigh, the light of the fading day playing shadows across your face as we climb into my car. "I love him. Don't get me wrong. It just gets harder and harder every day."

"I'm sorry, Bella. Nobody deserves what you're going through." I ache to hold your hand sitting on your thigh. Can you feel how your hurt makes me hurt?

"It should be him you feel sorry for. Nobody deserves to go through what he's going through."

"He's not the only one suffering. This is a hard ordeal for everyone involved."

You crumble. Your tears overflowing down your cheeks. Your body hunching against the weight put on your shoulders as you lean your face against the window, crying your sorrow into the passing lights. I can't help myself when I grab your hand, intertwining my fingers through yours, clutching so tightly, wishing I could stop your sadness with just my touch.

"I'm so overwhelmed. Every day it's so hard to get out of bed, to eat, to smile, to pretend that I want to be there with him, and then I feel like a horrible human being because what decent person would abandon her dying husband."

I pull to the side of the road, the hush light of the setting sun doing nothing to illuminate the interior of the car. Except for your tears. Those glitter down your cheeks like stars falling from the sky. So beautiful in their sadness. I hate seeing you like this. Crying against the window, your chest heaving with the sobs leaving your mouth. How I wish I could erase the pain of your misery, of your guilt.

"Tell me what to do," I beg, pulling on your hand, not stopping until you're in my arms, clutching at my shirt, dampening the cotton with your tears. "I'll do anything."

Your breaths are soft but sporadic as you look up, your hair brushing against my chin as you tilt your head back until there's that silver lining between my eyes and yours. I've forgotten how to breathe. How to pull air into my lungs in order to stay alive. I wait for my heart to stop because that's what you do. You pull me under with just a simple look.

"Make the pain stop. Make it all go away. Make me feel good," you whisper so sweetly. "Kiss me, Edward."

Your limps are plush, soft and wet, delicious in the way you breathe your last breath into me, in the way your tongue shyly pushes against mine. The groan that leaves me echoes with the passion, desire, lust…love that I've built up for you. I hope that through this kiss you can feel just what you do to me, how you've ended and then restarted my life with just being there by my side.

"Bella…" I gulp down fistfuls of air when you pull away, my heart beating so fast as I try to calm my nerves after having fantasized about your touch for so long.

"Please, Edward," you whisper, your lips dragging against my skin. "Make me feel good. Make me forget."

I dive back in, pressing so hard against your lips that you fall back, taking me with you as I sprawl across the center console, but even the gearshift sticking into my abdomen doesn't stop me from seeking anything you're willing to give. It's when your hand, clutching so desperately at mine, guides my touch up your thigh and to something so sacred, so forbidden, that I pull away.

"Bella?" I whisper, hoping this is real, wishing you won't make me stop.

"Touch me, Edward," you say, your eyes closed, your head tilted back as you impatiently wait, trembling beneath me. Your moan is so loud when I finally do. So unreserved that I spare a quick glance beyond the window.

Your panties are easily pushed to the side as I explore beneath your shorts. So wet and hot. So tender and sensitive. Your hips thrust with each slide as your head shakes back and forth with your lust, your mouth begging for me to stop and to go faster, harder, all at the same time.

"Fuck, Bella." I can't take the way you move below me, how you're lush and soft in your heat. I push against the console, seeking relief for my aching dick. How it wishes to be buried so deep where my fingers are exploring. "You feel so good."

"Edward…Edward…Oh my god!"

You come so beautifully, so violently, so hard against my hand as you clutch at the leather, leaving scratches in your wake, your eyes staring at the roof as your harsh breaths attempt to even out.

"Bella. Baby. Do you feel better? Good?" I ask, trailing my lips down your neck, to the top of your breasts, revealed to me from the shuffle.

"Oh my god."

"Talk to me, baby. What are you thinking?" I want to strip you naked. Right here. In my car. And bury my dick so deep inside of you that you'll remember me for days. Not that you'll have to. Now that I've smelled you, felt you, heard you, I won't be able to get enough.

"I'm sorry." You whimper, pushing me away. I go though it takes all of my will to do so.

"Bella?" I ask, searching your eyes avoiding my own. "What's the matter?"

More tears come as your hand fumbles through the dark. "I'm sorry, Edward. We shouldn't have done this."

Before I can argue, before I can plead my case, my love, you're thrusting the door open, running off into the dark, leaving me behind with your scent on my fingers as the only reminder that you were even there.