Before we begin, a few important facts:

1. I am not a fan of Twilight. I feel like this is important to know beforehand. However, I got an idea for this story and decided that it would be entertaining to write. I have no intention of disrespecting Meyer by destroying or vilifying any of her characters (besides, obviously, the villains). If you feel like I've messed up a character in a massively huge way, please tell me so that I can fix it or explain why the character is acting that way, if there is a logical explanation. Also, if I've made a glaring canon error, please point this out to me so I can fix that. Bonus: I've taken to calling Bella's daughter "Ren" because I doubt that any fully-grown woman would appreciate being called "Nessie". This story takes place fifty years after the events of Breaking Dawn.

2. This is not a romance story.

3. This site does not disable your back button. If you hate me for playing in your sandbox when I really don't belong here, don't read the story.

4. Concrit is greatly appreciated.

That said, this is not a short story, but this is a short summer. I return to University in August, so past that, updates will be fewer and farther between. Should I drop this story, I'll add an addendum to this author's note. If this note doesn't tell you this is discontinued or complete, this is still in progress.

scratch

i. only i have proved me wrong

The bus-stop is empty. This is not surprising. Buses don't run often anymore, and people don't often ride them at one o'clock in the morning. This is precisely why I'm here -- I don't want to be stopped. I don't want to be followed. And most importantly, I don't want to be seen.

I don't have much of a plan, really. Honestly, I know I didn't think this out very well, but I got so tired of planning. Everyone had their own ideas on what we should do and how we should do it, and I finally just had enough of it, and decided to strike out on my own while the others were busy poring over maps and dissecting tiny sentences to find some kind of hidden meaning. They'll chalk it up to distress -- which isn't far off the truth -- and let it go.

I fidget in my seat. I don't like being alone.

It's times like these I wish I was religious. Having something -- anything -- to pray to would be nice. Might make me feel like I was doing something other than waiting for some scary Italian bus driver show up. I have exactly 743 American dollars on my person, having misjudged plane fare, which is why I'm throwing myself on the mercy of public transport.

I keep running over Rosalie's words in my head -- Maybe he went to Italy. The last time he left Bella, that's where he went. We should start there.

So, this is where I am. It's not much of a lead, but it's a place to start. I just wish I had a little more information.

I take a deep breath. I am perfectly capable of doing this. I survived seventeen years without Edward. I can survive until I find him again.

...But where did he go? And why? I can't think of any good reason. Our anniversary isn't for another five months, and my birthday has already passed, so he can't be planning something for either of those. And if he had been planning something, no one else would have been worried. If he'd been in danger, he would have said something to me -- or at least to someone. Carlisle, if no one else. He didn't seem preoccupied about anything before the disappearance. It's like he just... vanished, all of a sudden.

Like he was never there at all.

I can't figure it out, which is why I came here. I'm going to talk to the Volturi -- someone has to have a lead of some kind. Surely Aro...

I don't want to think about the possibility that they may not be able to help me. And besides, a missing vampire is a pretty big deal, right? It's in their best interest to lend me a hand. So we all benefit.

I keep fidgeting. This seat is uncomfortable, and I'm lonely. I wish I'd thought to bring Ren with me. She's usually good at dealing with these kinds of situations. But if I'd brought Ren, then I would have had to bring Jacob, and everyone would have figured out, and then I'd either still be sitting at home (probably hearing all the reasons why this is a really bad idea) or it would be a Group Field Trip To Volterra!

And I'd probably still be hearing all the reasons why this is a really bad idea.

Just in Italian.

I don't need to be insulted in various languages. I need to find my husband. I also need this bus to -- finally, I hear it coming. I stand up, rummaging through my purse for the Euros I swear I grabbed from Rosalie's nightstand, so I'm not reduced to snarling at the bus driver until he waives the fee. Luckily, they have the good sense to be where I put them.

The bus driver is an elderly, smiling man, which is good -- I'd half-expected a drugged-out addict of some kind, and wasn't looking forward to arguing with someone higher than most space junk. I smile at him, and he grins absently back at me. He seems safe enough. The bus itself is mostly empty, except for one seedy-looking guy in the very back who won't stop staring at me. I take a seat near the front, and ask the driver how long to Volterra.

An hour and a half. I settle in for the wait.

...I don't like waiting.

I know I could probably have simply run the distance -- vampire stamina and all that -- but I don't want to call any undue attention to myself. I'm about to throw myself on the mercy of Aro, so breaking his rules won't win me any favors. It isn't much of a setback, really, all things considered. Just... not good on the nerves.

I try to restrain myself. Over the past fifty years, I've worked hard on controlling my strength. I've found that it's usually rather useful to be much stronger than most people, but at this moment, a nervous display of massive physical strength will put me in a highly compromising position, one I'm not prepared for. To begin with, the guy in the back would probably lose something vital to him -- I'm thinking a spine -- and the poor, sweet bus driver may not be able to stay on the road if he has to witness something like that. I don't want to hurt any of them.

I'm just not really thinking straight, and when I'm not thinking straight, I'm not good at controlling my temper. I take another deep breath. Just 77 minutes left. That's all -- 77 minutes to Volterra, and from there, it won't be hard to find Aro.

76 minutes...

I can do this. I know I can do this. I can... I draw my knees up to my chest and look out the window. It's almost ironic -- all my power, all my experience, all my influence -- it's nothing right now. I could be anyone, anywhere. Just a girl on a bus at an ungodly hour of the night. I could be the other girl in the movie, standing in the rain, watching her lover leave.

On this bus, I am not Isabella Cullen.

I'm Bella Swann, all over again. I'm the awkward teenager, away from home for the first time. I haven't missed it, not one bit.

74 minutes.

Edward... Where are you?

--

"--Which is why I need your help." I stand in front of Aro, hoping against hope that he has some kind of response. His face isn't showing much promise, though. He doesn't appear to be concerned -- does he know something I don't? Irrationally, I'm angry. He's got this look on his face like he knows exactly where Edward is, like I'm an idiot for not knowing, and -- worst of all -- like he isn't planning to tell me.

"It is not our business where your husband is," he says slowly, and I realize that he's confused. He doesn't understand why I've come to him for help!

"But a missing vampire is a big deal! It's a huge deal! You have no idea where he is, he could be... he could be anywhere!"

"He hasn't done anything yet to compromise the rest of us. And he should know the rules well enough by now to know what not to do. You don't know where he is, but that doesn't mean he's missing."

I'm ready to tear my hair out in frustration. This can't be happening! They can't honestly be so... so... callous, can they?

Oh, who am I kidding? I knew from the start they were unlikely to help. I just wanted so badly to have an ally in this. I fooled myself into thinking that they would help me out of the kindness of their hearts. It makes me angry, though. What kind of leaders are they?

"Fine," I hiss, angry, "Fine. I'll find him myself."

I turn on my heel and leave. As I'm on my way out, Aro calls out after me --

"I'll tell you this: He isn't in this area. I would know if he'd come within a hundred miles of us."

I don't respond. The streets are still dark, but dawn isn't far off. I'll have to find a place to stay for the day. I lean against a wall. I'm alone in a foreign country with 743 dollars to my name, no husband, and no leads. And it's probably safest to assume that I have no friends. I could easily call up Carlisle or Jasper and get them to take me home. We could start the search over -- with Italy off the list, we could brainstorm, find some other place to look -- but something in me refuses to crawl back home so soon.

My promise, spoken in anger, binds me. Not physically, but as a matter of pride. I don't need anyone's help to find Edward. It won't be easy, but I can do this myself, I know it. I just need a place to begin.

I find myself at a train station, looking over the times. There's a train leaving at 5:13 AM, set to arrive in Dijon at 7:45 PM. It's imperfect -- I'll have to invest in a blanket and a dimly-lit compartment -- but it should suffice. And France is a perfectly logical place to start, right? At least I'm doing something.

This is probably terribly dangerous, and incredibly stupid.

And at the same time, it's -- bizarrely -- kind of fun. Not the "being alone" part, but the "exploring the world" bit is. It's almost epic, in a way, like I'm a character in a movie or a book. If I must be without Edward, then I suppose this is the way to do it, not by staying at home with Ren and Esme.

I'm... hopeful. I will find him. And he'll probably chastise me for being so reckless, but we'll be a family again, so it's worth it. I'll do anything to find myself back in his arms. Whatever it takes.

After a hasty exchange of currency at the ticket booth, I buy a fleecy blanket at the gift shop from a sleepy cashier, and, as an afterthought, I pick up a few magazines and crosswords. I'm in for a long train ride, after all. I smile and try to be friendly, but people are rarely friendly in the wee hours of the morning.

The train is far from roomy (better, I think, because no one will think to look for me on a cheap train in the middle of nowhere) and I find the smallest compartment -- the sleeper compartment -- close the blinds on the window tight, and pray for clouds. The train fills fast, but the occasional glare is more than enough to dissuade any possible companions, and besides, most people aren't looking for a bed. I curl up under the blanket and wish I could sleep. The crosswords are sitting comfortably on the seat by my head, but I don't pick them up. Before long, the train starts moving, and I relax slightly.

Finally, it occurs to me to check my phone. International service is (naturally) standard on the Cullen phones, but I've been shamelessly ignoring my cell since I turned it off at the Seattle Airport. I listen to voicemail (Alice, Esme, what appears to be a rather pissed off Jacob, Alice, Alice, Rosalie, Ren, Carlisle -- sounding very restrained -- Jasper, and Alice again) before turning it off again. I pause for a moment, and then, in a fit of anger I'll never be able to explain, I open the window and throw it out.

I roll back over, and watch the shadows on the wall until they disappear completely.

It's a sunny day.