A/N: Remember the scene in "Eclipse" where Bella asks Edward what he would do if they plane they were flying in would crash. Well, here's the answer.
Copyright: Unfortunately, I don't own anything.
"I can't wait to get home," I said as I leaned back into the comfortable seat, which actually was just a teeny tiny bit too comfortable. Edward had, of course, insisted on booking first-class seats, and while I didn't mind more legroom I would have had no problem flying coach, either. I wished I could just get over this aversion to people paying enormous amounts for money for me—the people in question, my family-to-be, had more money than you could ever imagine after all—but for some reason I couldn't. Sitting in this very comfortable chair and sipping Evian made me feel very uncomfortable.
Edward smiled, either because he sensed my discomfort or in answer to what I'd said.
"Besides," I went on before he could say anything, "I don't understand why you insisted on schlepping me to Los Angeles, anyway." Edward raised an eyebrow at my choice of words; I'd been watching reruns of The Nanny and had acquired some of the vocabulary, which drove Edward, who always sounded so sophisticated whenever he opened his mouth—due to his advanced age, I assumed—crazy. "After all," I said, cutting him off yet again, "I'll have all the time in the world to see every interesting spot the United States have to offer, and probably even some of its not-so-interesting spots, once you've changed me."
Edward's smile faded just a little. "Not in the sunlight," he replied. "You'll…"
It wasn't me who cut him off this time but the chime of the intercom. Edward sighed, and I couldn't help smiling just a little, which caused him to roll his eyes at me.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the pilot said, "there's a bit of a bad weather front ahead of us which unfortunately we can't avoid, so it might get a little rough. Fasten your seat belts and sit tight. The good news is we're right on schedule and will be landing in approximately twenty-five minutes."
"Great," I muttered. "You see? I knew we should have stayed at home."
Edward sighed again, muttering something my ears weren't sensitive enough to catch—probably complaining about how ridiculous I was being—then said, "We're not going to crash, Bella. It's extremely unlikely we're actually going to be struck by a lightening."
"I'm not worrying about crashing."
He raised an eyebrow. "You're not?"
"Nope. I'm worrying about getting airsick and vomiting all over you."
A grin spread across Edward's face. He gestured at the dark blue curtain the flight attendant had just disappeared behind, probably to strap in. "The toilet's through there."
"You're not taking me seriously," I muttered, and he laughed quietly and kissed the top of my head. I curled up against his side and glanced out the small window, watching us pass swiftly through the clouds which were stained with ugly grey smudges. In the distance lightening flashed. It was eerie. The plane trembled slightly as it progressed through the clouds, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been.
"Feeling sick yet?" Edward asked, teasing me. I shot him a glare, trying to think of a quick-witted remark—of course, if you had to think about it first, it wasn't quick-witted anymore, was it?—when the plane suddenly dropped at least ten feet, plunging into an invisible hole in the air. I yelped—I wasn't the only one who did—and clutched Edward's arm. He chuckled.
Again the intercom chimed. "It appears to be worse than we anticipated," the pilot said, "but we're almost through. No need to worry." He didn't sound nervous at all, but I glanced at Edward's face just to make sure. He smiled back at me reassuringly, so I assumed the pilot wasn't just trying to keep us from panicking. I took a few deep breaths to steady my racing heart.
"I won't let anything happen to you," Edward whispered into my ear, his cool lips brushing over my neck, which made me shiver just a little. "I promise." He peered past me out into the sky. The clouds were black as pitch now. "We're almost through," he said, repeating the pilot's words and sounding just as confident. The plane dropped again, and so did my stomach. I swallowed. I was feeling a little bit queasy.
"I think I'm going to be sick," I groaned as my stomach heaved again. I all but climbed over Edward out into the aisle, my hand pressed firmly onto my mouth. I turned right, reaching for the dark curtain.
I was flung off my feet so suddenly I didn't even have time to cry out. I was slammed hard against the seat behind me as the plane tipped to the left, turbines howling. People started screaming. Edward pulled me back into my seat and fastened the seat belt. My hands were shaking, and even though Edward held me in his iron grip I clung onto his arm as hard as I could.
The plane still lay trembling on its side, then it suddenly rolled back onto its belly. "What's going on?" I whispered, my voice shaking just as much as my hands. Edward didn't answer. He seemed to be listening intently to something nobody else could hear. "Edward?"
"Lightening strike," he said eventually, just as quietly. "We've lost a turbine, but the pilot believes it's possible to make it to Seattle in one piece. He's right." He smiled and gently kissed my forehead. "It's possible." He didn't sound nearly as confident as he had before and he didn't loosen his grip on my arm. I didn't believe a single word when the pilot reassured us that everything was going to be OK, but most of the other passengers seemed to buy it. Excited babble rose around us. Edward didn't relax.
"What's wrong?" I asked. "What aren't you telling me?"
"The pilot's correct," he whispered. "It's quite possible to make it to Seattle on one turbine. It's what they're built for after all. However, he's afraid the second turbine will fail as well. It wasn't damaged, and it's highly unlikely we are going to be struck by lightening again, but it has been causing problems since we took off, and he's afraid the strain might be too much."
I didn't answer. I didn't know what to say. Edward pulled me against his chest as far as my seat belt would allow, trying to comfort me. We're going to make it, I told myself over and over again, we're going to make it. We were almost there.
We didn't make it. We ran out of luck ten minutes out of Seattle.
We'd long since left the clouds behind us, but the sky was just as black even though it was barely past four in the afternoon, and I couldn't see a thing. Edward's head snapped to the right, and I knew our time was up even before the remaining turbine actually failed. It didn't die straightaway, though. It coughed and spluttered, and the plane staggered through the air like a drunken man. At first, nobody screamed. They hadn't realised what was happening yet, then somebody yelled, "We're going to crash!" and panic swept over them like a tidal wave.
"Don't be afraid," Edward said, his voice anxious. "I'll get you out."
I glanced outside again, so he wouldn't see my face. Edward's anxiety scared me worse than anything else. He didn't seem so sure that he'd really be able to save me. And even if he did… Who'd save the other passengers? Would any of them survive?
The pilot still seemed to be in control of the plane. It continued its descent, and I was beginning to believe that we would make it after all—then the turbine spluttered one last time and fell silent. The plane's nose tilted earthward, and as our angle gradually changed and became steeper, I suddenly remembered the movie Titanic my mother had made me watch when I was younger; she'd sunk just as slowly, at least at first, as we seemed to be falling out of the sky.
"Help!" a woman yelled. Edward reached out just in time to catch a little girl who must have slipped out of her seat belt and came tumbling down the aisle like a pin knocked over by a bowling ball. He caught her by the collar of her green dress and lifted the wailing child back up to her mother. My eyes started to fill with tears. I knew the girl was going to die. Edward looked at me, his golden eyes sad and sympathetic, but there was nothing he could do.
We were losing altitude very quickly now. I could see lights outside now. Edward shifted in his seat. "Please close your eyes," he told me, even now polite as ever, and I did. I didn't need to see what was happening. I could still hear everything, though, the frantic screams of the people around me, the groans of the dying plane. I even heard the yellow masks pop out from overhead.
Then we hit the ground. I felt a soft tremor and metal screamed as it was folded together like aluminium foil. Edward yanked me out of my seat and against his chest, wrapping his arms protectively around me and reaching up to protect my head as well. Metal was ripped apart, and then we were airborne. The smell of smoke and burning rubber filled the air and made me cough. I felt the heat of fire on my cheeks, and for the first time I screamed, not so much for me as for Edward. I'd seen how dangerous fire was for vampires; their venom was highly inflammable.
Edward's grip loosened. My eyes flew open. He'd put me down on the grass beside what was in fact a runway—we'd made it to Seattle after all—illuminated by the fire devouring what was left of the plane. I wrapped my arms around Edward's neck and kissed him frantically. "You're OK," I whispered, wiping away the tears; I hadn't even realised I was crying. "You're OK."
"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked gently.
"The fire…" I turned to look at the airplane for the very first time. We'd hit the ground headfirst. The force of the impact had folded the plane together, and its wings were warped and twisted. Frankly, it didn't look like an airplane anymore. Flames, yellow and orange, were licking over the wreck, and smoke rose towards the sky. Even I was able to hear the screams over the roar of the fire. "They're still alive," I cried, horrified, and I felt tears begin streaming down my cheeks again. Edward couldn't even go back in there and save them because of the fire. If he was hurt, the damage was likely to be permanent.
Edward didn't answer. He held me quietly until I calmed down, then gently lifted me back up into his arms and kissed my tears away. I was glad to be alive, glad that Edward was unharmed, and yet I couldn't help feeling guilty. Sirens began wailing in the distance. "We have to go back," Edward said. I nodded, and he carried me back towards the wreck of the plane to wait for the fire department and the ambulance who wouldn't be able to save anyone else at all.