Title: Unexpected Reminder

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Edward trusts that his wife will know exactly how to soothe him after an unexpected reminder of the depth of despair he's experienced. Canon one-shot post Breaking Dawn.

***

~ BELLA ~

I was caught off guard from the moment he burst through our front door, hair disheveled and eyes burning with a fervor unprecedented in our lives together.

"Edward?" I managed to whisper as I turned from the kitchen sink where I had been washing a few dishes and cups from Renesmee.

He did not say a single word as he slammed the front door behind him with a flick of his hand and crossed the distance between us in silent and almost eerie speed. Usually, we don't rush in the house. The cottage is small enough that there's no need for us to make use of our speed, or strength, in any way. That was part of the reason why I was so confused by his actions. He also looked completely terrified.

"Is something wrong?" I squeaked as he came at me, leaving me no choice but to step back until I felt the edge of the kitchen counter against my back.

I took a mental inventory of every member of our family. I knew they were all fine as of that morning. I searched his eyes frantically for some sign that I needed to be alarmed too. He met my stare briefly, and as I dropped my shield and begged to hear that everyone was okay; he nodded his head so quickly that I would have missed it if I blinked. "Thank God", I thought. I felt momentary relief, but it disappeared as I noted that the crazed look on Edward's face hadn't faded in the least.

"Bella," he forced out between clenching his jaw, just a fraction of a second before his lips crashed into mine. There was no tenderness in his kiss, no subtle caress as his hands gripped my back and pulled me against him while the entire weight of his body pushed me into the edge. I cried out as he grabbed my hips and all but tossed me up onto the counter. His mouth never left mine as he wrapped an arm around my lower back and pulled me flush against him, not willing to allow any separation between our bodies.

"Edward," I managed to gasp as he left my lips only to trail urgent, almost frantic, kisses down my neck. I sighed and buried my hands in his hair, surprised at the cold that was still captured in the silky strands there. I forced myself to think of anything other than the feel of his mouth as he continued to reverently kiss the length of my collar bone, first on my left side, then my right, but not until he left butterfly kisses in the hollow of my throat between the two.

This was just so unlike him. He's been completely passionate, spontaneous, and unrestrained with me, rendering me all but powerless countless times, but this sort of unbridled and sudden attack was a shock, and it just felt...serious.

He left the house only two hours ago. He'd planned to visit Carlisle at the hospital before stopping by the furniture store in town to pick up some end tables Alice and I picked out last week. I couldn't come up with a logical reason for his sudden and emotional return. Of course, I felt no urge to shrug him off. His hands were moving purposefully to the front of my sweater, and I moaned automatically when the soft skin of his fingers brushed against my tummy. He moaned too, answering my cry of pleasure with his own as I trailed my hands down his back, before wrapping my legs around his waist, drawing him impossibly closer.

"Talk to me," I spoke softly into his ear. I just felt compelled to hear him. I wanted to know what he was thinking, feeling, wanting. There was some part of me that understood the look I'd glimpsed in his eyes when he first came through the door, and I was growing desperate to identify it for certain. His head was bent with his mouth pressing hot and wet kisses to my bare shoulder. He'd removed my top, and I didn't even notice. The position gave me direct access to the side of his face. I kissed his cheek, his jaw, temple, and eyelid. Then, I pulled back slightly, having received no reply. I let my lips hover over the shell of his ear as he continued kissing my neck. I let my breath fall on him, watching in fascination as the tiny hairs of his sideburn waved in its wake.

I bent my head even closer and pulled the lobe of his ear between my teeth, biting ever so gently as I spoke again, "I'm right here."

His reaction was instantaneous.

A broken cry ripped its way front the center of his chest, and his head whipped up to face me. His eyes leveled on mine, and I gasped at what I saw. There was immense grief in his golden stare. Instantly, my hands were cupping his face, my thumbs tracing gently over the tips of his cheekbones.

"Hi," I whispered, and he broke my unbeating heart with the most beautiful smile possible. It still held sadness, but it was genuine. It was love, and it was Edward.

"Hi, Bella," he answered finally with such love in his tone, and I smiled back for him. As soon as I did, I felt tension drain from his impossibly hard body. It seemed like even his face relaxed. The grip of his hands on my waist lost some of its strength, and he leaned forward to kiss my forehead. I sighed yet again, and smiled once more as his hands found their way to my face, mirroring the way I cupped his cheeks.

We stared at each other silently. He arched an eyebrow, and I answered by immediately doing what he had requested. As soon as he was granted access to my mind, he let out a deep breath and laid his forehead against my own.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"I love you," I thought repetitively, overwhelmed with all of him. I didn't think about any one thing in particular. I simply let my feelings, my contentment, and my joy dictate where my thoughts and mental images led me. I watched his face carefully. His eyes were closed, but it was more than enough for me to watch as his lips twitched in a smile every time he caught something he truly loved, flittering about in my thoughts. I watched his perfect face become more peaceful with each second that ticked by loudly from the clock hanging in our small den.

I realized after a few moments that he still wasn't willing to leave my side. He seemed to be calming with each minute thought, and that was my only desire. I shifted slightly, and his hands flew to my thighs, keeping my planted in place. I ran my hands over his neck before running my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Not going anywhere," I confirmed unnecessarily since I was completely content with that, and he knew it. I would have stayed there all day and night if he needed me to.

***

~ EDWARD ~

I was standing in the waiting area of the emergency room when the doors of the hospital flew open loudly. Carlisle had asked me to wait a few moments while he finished checking on a patient before we were to head to his office. He had no idea I'd been planning to stop by, and he seemed thrilled to have a reason to break up his near fifty-two hour work streak to visit with me. Apparently, there were a few doctors out sick, and he was very willing to pick up the slack, needing neither the sleep nor immune boost they required.

I listened rather impassively to the swirl of worried and restless thoughts pouring from every direction around me. The woman at the counter was staring, and it made me slightly uncomfortable, so I turned toward the entrance to avoid her completely. That's when I first heard him...and saw her.

His thoughts were completely crazed. I wondered how I'd not picked up on them miles away. I usually tune in to severe distress like his at the moment, but I was completely unprepared for what happened when my eyes trailed down his bloodied shirt. His arms cradled someone in them, his stance protective but eager for help as he shuffled his feet quickly through the short entryway.

A few people in the waiting room to my right gasped and started murmuring to each other. A few pointed at him before turning their heads away and avoiding the scene. I glanced quickly in both directions, and noticed that no doctors were around. No one was rushing to his side.

"Get my father!" I barked, half turning my head at the woman sitting at the admittance desk, before walking in the direction of the desperate man.

His eyes met mine, and I cringed at the depth of his furious thoughts. I got within three feet of him, and he began screaming. It was so strange. I've faced down monsters of the worst kind. I've battled extremely strong animals, and I'm a predator of unparalleled strength, but I was scared of the look in his eyes. I was scared of him and for him. I knew the look, and I respected it.

"Let me help you," I spoke, my voice surprisingly calm. He needed calm.

"No! Get her help. Get her a doctor!" He cried, and I looked once again to the bundle he cradled in his arms. It was only natural for this boy to assume I was clueless. I heard Carlisle asking for a gurney behind me. Within seconds, one was rolled to them, and several nurses gathered around my father and two other doctors as the man finally, reluctantly, allowed them to pry her broken body from his hold. I gasped when she was finally visible to all of us.

I saw the side of her head; long, chestnut brown hair rolled in soft waves and curls down to her middle back. Blood spilled from her head, and I bit my lip as I carefully surveyed the trail it left, looking for brain matter; a gruesome quest, but I did it with pure hope that her fate was not sealed. I found none, and I breathed an unnecessary sigh of relief. Why did I care so much for this complete stranger?

Carlisle then turned the gurney, lining it up with the hallway that would lead them to the first examination room. Her entire body was turned in my direction, and I wondered what the odd noise was when I finally saw all of her.

"Edward," Carlisle called my name forcefully, and I realized with horror that I'd cried out when I saw her. It was frightening. Her heart shaped face had more color, and the shape of her nose was sharper, but the resemblance was striking. Darker freckles graced her forehead and cheeks, but I found myself instantly picturing Bella on the sunniest of days, when I could clearly see the ghost of her own freckles under the bright light. The change has all but eradicated their presence, but I remembered them. I remembered them well. This woman's lips were fuller but didn't look quite as soft as Bella's.

I wasn't breathing. I wasn't moving, and I was quickly losing control. A million thoughts assaulted me all at one. None of them made sense, but that didn't lessen their strength. I pictured Bella lying beneath Tyler's van, looking like this girl before me on the gurney. I pictured Bella on the floor of the ballet studio, looking just like the young woman on the gurney before me. I pictured Bella on the ground in our meadow, at the base of a cliff, on a road beside a broken motorcycle, in an alley, on the floor of castle in Italy, on the grass of our backyard, looking like the broken girl before me. I heard the man's thoughts, and I knew they were my own if and when I was in his place. "I'll die...I'll die...I will die...please, don't let her die..." he thought, and I felt absolute panic rip its way through me.

I felt so selfish. Here, this man was experiencing the worst moment of his young life, and I was too busy suffering an inexcusable attack of worry. But, her face was like being taken instantly back to Bella's human years. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't thank whoever will listen to my prayers that she is with me. I've seen her broken in the worst way. The birth of our daughter was nothing less then horrifying for me. I never allowed myself to truly stop and look at Bella then. I was so intent on saving her. I saw the condition that she was in. I really did. I watched her for torturous hours, wondering if I'd done enough to save her, but I never let myself see her fragile human body broken in every way. I couldn't. It would have broken me, and she needed me while she changed.

I saw this girl. I saw all of her injuries and heard her heart's dangerously slow thud, and I didn't know how to deal with it.

That's when I saw him sink to the floor. His knees buckled, and I winced when his legs folded awkwardly under the weight of his body. I walked to him and crouched before resting a hand on his shoulder. His head raised, and his eyes met mine briefly before more tears blurred his vision. Sobs tore from his chest, and I moved behind him and bent down to snake my arms under his. I knew that if he really paid attention, the stone-like feel of my body would alarm him, but he didn't even flinch. He did not care, and his thoughts were not of himself at all. He allowed me to maneuver him into one of the rigid, plastic chairs lining the wall. I sat beside him and waited.

I all but collapsed at the misery of his thoughts. I felt like I was back in Italy, thinking that Bella was gone forever and wanting nothing more than imminent death for myself. I tried to stifle an agonizing cry of my own while I witnessed him focusing on his own memories with the girl a few rooms away. He was trying to calm himself.

He was leaning forward now, his hands running over his face and through his air. I placed my hand against his back, leaving it stationary there. I just wanted him to know that someone was there. I knew someone would talk with him shortly, but that wasn't enough.

Almost twenty minutes later, a nurse came and informed him that she would be on her way to surgery. He nodded, and I removed my hand. As she walked away, he turned and looked at me.

"Thanks, man," he cried between the two words, and I gave him a small smile.

"Hang on," I said softly before standing. He nodded slowly. I just couldn't bare to hear his thoughts much longer.

"Edward, son, go home." Carlisle directed me from inside the exam room where he was furiously preparing her for transport to the operating room. I turned my head and saw my father give me a quick nod and sad smile. He was concerned for me too. I know he registered the resemblance as well, because I detected the slightest tremor in his hand as he steadied her fragile neck while they moved her. Carlisle never faltered with his patients.

"Go to Bella." He commanded, and I closed my eyes and shook my head once to acknowledge him.

He was right. I would go to her. I would hold her adorable face between my hands, kiss her, and she would make everything better. She would be there when I got home, and her smooth, freckle-free face would smile for me. Her hair would feel so soft when I buried my fingers in it, and her incredibly soft lips would kiss away every horrible thought I'd allowed to break me in the last few minutes.

I turned on my heel and strode through the hospital doors with determination. I was in my car and half-way home before I thought of the young man again. I felt intensely for him. I knew the hospital staff and Carlisle would continue to be there for him, but it didn't help the desperate ache that was gnawing at me. I wanted him to know that he wasn't alone. I knew what he was feeling. I knew how serious he was when he thought that there would be no life for him if hers ended. I understood completely, and the terror I'd experienced through him drove me mad until the very moment that I pulled into our driveway. I ran as fast as I could, stopping only so that I did not throw the door off its hinges as I moved into the house.

Bella stood at the sink, water running over her hands as she washed a bright, blue cup.

She gasped when her eyes flicked to mine, and I felt the world stop when she cocked her head slightly and stared at me. I gave her no time. I was on her with the next flash of movement, and only when my lips found hers, did I finally begin to feel like myself again. It was only then that I let myself be the luckiest man in the world...again.

**

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