Going Home

Don't ask me where the idea came from or why. It's a one shot that just happened. I'm not a fan of Twilight or Edward (though in FF it's fun to read parodies of it) anyway, this sort of came to me and if you've read anything dramatic I've written for Twi then you'll know where it's going with Edward. To those of you who are reading my writing in the Twilight faction for the first time let me say it now before you review and ask or berate me (it's happened before). No, Edward and Bella are not together. No this is not bashing. No I am not going to write a continuation where he and Bella eventually reconcile. Read the story and you'll see why there is no BellWard here. It's one of the many ways I think Twilight should have been, in a sense. Anyway, read on, review and of course leave out the flames. I understand that this is horribly written and probably not that good. I don't need reviews telling me of something I am aware of. Of course, if you like it then go on, tell me. Its always nice to hear feedback. Flames are not feedback, flames are mean. Please don't be mean.

Obviously this is an Alternate Universe.

The house was large and nearly falling apart when Edward had come upon it a little over six months ago. Of course it had been in the middle of thick woods, left behind and nearly utterly forgotten so the fact that it had been dilapidated and falling apart was no surprise at all, except Edward remembered this house from a little over seventy years ago when it was not so forgotten or broken down. He remembered that a nice big family had lived here with far too many sons withe smiling pink faces an elderly father and a young mother. They'd been kind, they'd been well off and most importantly they had told him in that kindly long forgotten Southern drawl "you come back now, this door is always opened for you."

The Johnson's had been kind church going people who worked hard and always went to early Sunday sermons. Edward, who had for a second time detached himself from his family had been living on the streets here and there until Mary Joe Johnson had found him cowering in an alleyway covered in soot and grime. She talked him out of the alleyway after about twenty minutes of coddling, she inquired the whereabouts of his family if he had any at all and somehow, and to this day Edward would never know, she had talked him into a job at the house in the woods.

Looking at the house when he had come about it six months ago seemed a great affront to the former lady of the house, Mary Joe whom Edward had adored so much. Marcus Johnson, he remembered had taken a liking to Edward immediately and the work he seemed to do with ease. Used to say that Edward could build the house from the ground up if given the chance and then he would laugh making his round belly shake. Mary Joe adored Marcus. People nowadays would have looked at them and assumed the worse, perhaps the young pretty blond wife must be in it for thee money but, back then it was no big thing.

Looking up at the freshly painted panels and the cleaned windows glimmering in the waning sunlight, Edward almost felt like he had returned to 1944 and, that any moment Mary Joe would and the boys would soon come out onto the large porch to have their lemonade and wait for the fireflies to come bustling from their hiding places amongst the great foliage. If he looked closely enough to the highest window, stained glass shimmering gold, he could almost see the shadow of James, the eldest son, looking down across the lawn. He'd been sickly, Edward remembered, and because he couldn't go outside his bed had been situated closest to the window. Why he wasted to look out of stained glass Edward never knew but the boy had wanted to be near it.

Such sweet memories of much simpler times, of better people. Edward missed the '40's like he missed the '50's, the '20's and so forth. This day and age was too loud, too busy too stuffy. It was hard to live in.

The steps didn't creak when he walked up the porch. The glass knob was cold beneath his fingers though he barely felt it. The inside of the house smelled like cedar and pine. Leather from the furniture, polish on the wooden floors and walls. The clinking from the chandelier in thee dining room clinked as the crystals hanging began to sway from the breeze of the opened window just at the other side of the large room. The rugs were old, musty but cleaned enough that any human would never detect their age and the wall hangings were just as old.

The faces from the photographs glimmered beneath thee glass of their new frame bundled together on thee dark cherry wood table near the door. Twilight poured through the cleaned windows casting odd shadows on thee floor. He stood at the very mouth of this house, the door was now shut behind him, and he crookedly smiled because now he felt like he was home. Six months had been entirely too long, he thought, he should have speed up the work he'd done, should not have taken his time but the finished product seemed better now then he had ever imagined.

It looked thee same outwardly but inside it was clearly different. Gone were to told wooden chairs and older sofas with springy cushions and wooden legs chipping paints and falling apart. They'd been replaced withe leather sofas, sturdy chairs. The floors were new wood like the walls. He laughed. Marcus had been right, Edward had built up the house from the ground up almost.

"I would have made a fantastic carpenter if I do say so myself." He laughed again.

If given the opportunity to be human it would be his profession. Working withe his hands all this time had seemed natural like pretending to breathe and act human. Second nature, building it had left him tranquil and peaceful. It had take his mind off of his misgivings which dealt withe leaving his family and Bella behind. He looked at it the way a human would. It was long ago that he had left them, six months is a long time, not in terms with his immortality no, certainly it couldn't compare but Edward made himself believe that it had been a long time.

He took into account the way humans aged, he took into account the way peoples perceptions of the times varied, in short Edward payed attention to the passage of time where before he would pass through the ages like nothing had changed. To a creature like himself a year could go by and it would make no difference to him, he might not even notice it. That was what came with living forever or close to it, after all, when time did nothing to change you then why should it matter anymore.

That was how he had come to the house. He had wanted to visit Marcus and Mary Joe and the children. The confusion he felt when he came to the broken house had taken him aback until he realized that it had been in 1945 when he had been here last and now it was 2010. They must be dead, of course, yes that's it. It's been seventy years!

How time fly when you aren't paying attention. He remembered Bella asking him once, about, specifically a certain day perhaps twenty or thirty of fifty years before, he couldn't remember what she had asked specifically. But, what he had said had frightened her a little bit, just a little. Edward could not remember certain years, if you asked him "Do you remember what happened to JFK in 1963?" he couldn't tell you anything because he wouldn't know anything monumental of specific.

He could tell you about his own soundings that day; "There was this small room I was in. There was a crack in the wall closest to the door. The television had rabbit ears that I had twined into two perfect springs. It rained that day for a long while and I remember thinking that I could go outside just for a walk in the rain."

But ask him anything historically specific and there was nothing he could tell you. He didn't retain information like a book, none of them did despite popular belief. It must have been because eventually it would be too much. If they remembered everything monumental that happened in a decade it would be amazing but too much to retain for them. Too much knowledge too much on their minds, they would go mad.

Older memories faded and one day Edward would eventually forget the Johnson's and Bella just like he forgot Chicago and the last time he had been in that little town house his family had owned after he had been turned. Maybe he should adopt Carlisle's method. Write it all down as to never forget. Take pictures of everything, remember it all.

He wouldn't bother with it, not where Bella was concerned. If he forgot her the better. It would be easier on them both if he forgot her and treated her as just another passing shadow in the sea of shadows he had been immersed in over the years.

She was married to a human male now, she was also pregnant and living in a beautiful house in Georgia with this man which he had all but thrown at her. Jeremy Dewitt was seven years older then Bella, he worked in a prominent law-firm alongside his brothers and his father. He had a strong personality, he was charming and made her laugh. He loved her the way Edward loved her, desperately, deeply bordering on obsession. Not the healthiest of love but the kind of love she was used to and that she yearned for.

The divorce had been hard for Edward even if he had initiated it after a year of being married to her. She'd been too young, she was too fragile, she was human. When Edward had been married to Bella for that one magical year, one night on their anniversary Edward had realized just how wrong it was to be with her. It had come in a phone call from her mother. She wanted to vacation with Bella and Edward, maybe go to somewhere bright and warm. Somewhere that wasn't Forks or rainy.

"Sweet heart you know I'm worried about you. Ever since you've met Edward you've kept yourself hidden in that little town." Renee had whispered to Bella during one of her frequent phone calls.

"Mom stop."

"I'm not saying anything bad, I'm not insinuating anything. He's a great guy and I know you love him but this antisocial bit he's got had to stop some time. I mean, don't you ever want to go anywhere? You used to love thee sun."

"Sometimes things happen and you have to give up something you used to love. I'm okay withe living here in this town. If I'm with Edward then I don't need to be on some sunny beach or in some foreign city."

She'd given up so much to be with him and for what? For Edward to eventually turn her into a monster so that she would never even have the option to go out into the sun? To give up on her favorite foods and the opportunity to see her mother. Charlie had made his peace with what Edward was after he'd found them out but he didn't like it. He had thought that Edward was a selfish disgusting pig to date and marry someone so much younger.

Once Charlie had found out about Edward and his real age he had begun to treat him as an actual adult. Long gone were the days he would briskly speak with him the way he would anyone twenty or so years younger then him. He spoke to Edward like a man and voiced his opinions proudly. Too old to be with someone so young. Too dangerous to be with someone so fragile. Didn't it bother him that she was physically aging while he stayed the same. Was he going to make her like him and why would he if he loved her the way she was? Was he some sort of idiot to even attempt to make it work?

Eventually it would be Charlie that he would go to after leaving Bella. The explanation was clear as a bell. He couldn't do it, he couldn't subject her to a long life with so many regulations and rules. It was unfair, he was much too old. How could he have been with her and not take into account the things she was giving up just to satisfy that childish need to "have have have"?

All Charlie had done was listen and pour him a strong drink, not like alcohol could really effect Edward, not really, he couldn't get drunk in the same sense humans could but he did get pleasantly warm after going through a few bottles of whiskey (of which Charlie himself had only had two stiff drinks). After Edward was left sitting at the round kitchen table, dazed and warmed from all the whiskey in his system Charlie had stood, pat him on the shoulder and said "You did thee best thing for her. She'll get over it and you will too, old man."

That night had been warm and comforting as he had laid on the familiar sofa in Charlies living room trying as he might to think of anything that could take away the pain of leaving her.

That had been a two years ago, though it had actually been six months since he had seen her. She'd been at her father's house anticipating Edward's visit and when she saw him she smiled, stood and shook his hand as though they were old friends rather then former spouses. She had told him that she forgave him. She still spoke to his family regularly. She'd been recently in Greece with her (then) fiance-Edward's human lawyer Jeremy Dewitt, and that she had never been happier. She said she was miserable in the beginning and hated him for a long time but now she understood. She was happy living her normal human life now that she knew the significance of it. She wanted to have many children and if she had a boy she'd name him Anthony.

After that long day, sitting there with her and talking to her about her exploits, her traverse through Europe with her human lover and what they saw, it got Edward thinking about everything they'd been through. He loved her more then he could love anyone but it was muted now. When he had told her that she nodded in understanding. "First love," she had said "it comes hard and then it goes."

That was when he had left Forks and his family for the Johnson household remembering those kind people, the first family he had ever loved.

He stepped into the parlor, on his way he flicked the switch welcoming the glow of artificial light as he took his seat on an old leather chair he'd picked up second hand. Leaning into it he shut his eyes and let the floodgates to his memories opens and spill upon him in crashing waves. He couldn't tell you the significance of anything really important during his life time, things passed in blurs.

All he would ever remember were the things that he had witnessed first hand, things like the rain he had been caught in on October 31st 1965.

The flapper girl named Jeanne Dorey with her cupie bow lips drenched in red who had offered him a cigarette in a night club in Boston back in 1925.

A memory of children in their Sunday best flooding the cathedrals in New York, a little girl with periwinkle who had bumped into him, her eyes had been bright green and her hair had been fire-engine red.

Lena Horne in the Cotton Club, her steps flitting though his ears as she danced. The stiff drink in his hand as he watched her, intently delving into her nervous mind.

The '80's, the big hair, the glam rock, the last of the genuine love ballads, the movies-watching American Gigolo on the big screen for the first time.

The '90's were a passing blur that he spent most of in mini malls, in bright tacky clothes and listening to grunge music that was to this day his guilty pleasure.

2005, Bella. Falling in love. 2007, marrying Bella. 2008, filing for divorce. Leaving Bella. Living on Charlies couch, watching his world fall apart.

Six months ago, August 19th, 2010, beginning the restoration of the old Johnson house.

So many memories, so much passing time. One day it would all blur out and he would forget everything but, he was home and it didn't matter anymore because in the end it was all for the best.

Hard days, easy days, sunny warm, cool and cold, days spent in loving and laughing trying so hard to retain the small fine details. All of these would fade, a passing shadow, the momentary glimmering of twilight.