they all begin the same, a twilight fanfic

Author's Note: What the hell is this? No idea. Crack!fic. Yes. Shoddily written? Yes. Unbeta-ed? Yes. Loopy timeline? Yes. Plotless? Most definitely. Honestly, I have no idea where this came from. Okay, maybe I do. A little. The late hour, watching The Pagemaster, eating the leftover spaghetti in my fridge despite my initial reaction to label it as a biohazard and shoot it into space. And Edward/Bella? The fuck!? Why am I writing this?

Summary: Edward, Bella, mostly Edward. And he's got a gun to the heart, no time left. [AU/AH]

Disclaimer: I own…nothing.

they all begin the same

It ends with me in bed, the face of a pistol aimed straight at my heart. Just the slightest of pressures, the faintest of pulls, and I'll be gone.

But Esme's always warned against starting stories from the end. So, I suppose I should jump back. I wouldn't want to confuse you. You see, this story--my story--starts, like most stories tend to start, with a girl. But not just any girl. The girl.

Alright, from the top now. The coldest winter to date in Forks, Washington. A small, dwarf of a town somewhere on the left side of the continental US of A. And, no, I'm not beginning right. Shit, not even a minute in, and I've managed to mangle this whole thing to bits.

Let's jump back even further. The summer, a few years prior to the coldest winter to rip through the Pacific Northwest. Just over a year before the girl.

June 25

Jasper's got a Southern drawl and a mean right hook. It feels like a sledgehammer to the face, my body crumbling under the impact.

"Where's The Doctor?" he asks, face hovering over mine. Behind him, his partner Emmett is frowning, arms crossed. Good cop, bad cop. I'm sure you know the drill. One guess on who's playing who.

"Go to hell." The insult comes out less than stellar, the tang of blood pooling on my tongue. A heavy heat blooms hot on the back of my head, shoulders caving inward against the pain.

"Go easy on him," Emmett says. "He's no use to us dead, Whitlock. You know that."

If you haven't figured out the roles by now, you should just give up.

In case you're wondering, I survived.

Interrogation's a fuckin' sore on my backside. They kept me up for hours, questioning me over and over again.

When was the last time I saw the good ol' Doctor? When was the last time I talked to him? Did he ever take me up to Volterra? Had I ever met the Volturi? What was my preference? Human, bear, cougar, deer?

As if I'd take the stuff we deal. I'm not a complete idiot.

No evidence, only a strong conviction, well, it's not enough to keep you forever.

July 18

The call comes late at night, a shrill ring that jerks me awake.

" 'ello?" I croak into the phone, clear my throat and try again. "Hello?"

"Edward?"

The sound of Rosalie's voice knocks the wind out of me. I haven't seen her since last fall. We were suppose to meet at the airport, fly away and be together until our pasts caught up with us. She never showed. All I got was a sorry excuse in the mail.

"What do you want, Rose?"

"Oh Ed," she sighs, voice infinitely sad. Her breath hitches, her sobs making me sit up straighter, take notice. "I messed up bad."

Wet, cold, dark. Forks is anything but welcoming. It'd been years since I'd shown my face, but Rose's call had pulled me out from the shadows.

It seemed The Doctor had taking a liking to her, despite the pretty little wife constantly hanging off his arm. Of course, Rose being Rose couldn't ignore the attention. She'd found herself in deep.

And, like always, I had to rush in like some knight in shining armor.

And The Doctor, well, he was only too happy to let me in. Too eager.

October 27

Mike Newton is a fucking idiot.

"Nah," he shrugs, fingers curling around the collar of his parka, trying to pull it up over his red ears. It's an awkward move with a gun in hand. "Killing you would be messy, take up too much of our time. How would we do it? Slow? Fast? Where would we hide the body? And don't even get me started on alibis."

I roll my eyes, glance up and down the deserted street. No one in sight save for me, Newton, and some poor kid on his knees.

"No," Mike continues, rubbing the end of his pistol across his chin. "No, keeping you alive, getting the money, hell, that's loads easier than killing you."

Like I said, Mike's an idiot. And he talks far too much.

Carlisle didn't want me dealing, not any more. I think Rose had something to do with it. She'd always hated me hanging out at seedy bars trying to get someone to buy.

But, let me tell you, collecting pay is a hundred times worse than attempting to sell the last of your stash to some deadbeat. I feel bad for these people.

And the killing, the hurting, the scaring the life out of them--it's not for me.

January 1

Bree wears too much makeup, and I can't tear my eyes away from her red stained mouth. The same exact mouth that, mere moments ago, was wrapped around my cock.

"Edward Cullen," she says, head tilted to the side, hands slipping down my thighs. "You don't love me."

I don't answer, just keep watching the way her lips move around the words.

"God, do you have any idea how frustrating it is to be with you?"

She keeps yammering away, and soon she's storming out of the room. Out of the house. Out of my life.

See, the thing you've got to understand is I'm no good at getting close to people.

Even Rose. I never truly let her in. And, since I'm suddenly on an honesty kick for some goddamn reason, the truth is I never really loved her. Obsessed with her, yeah. But never in love.

Letting yourself be vulnerable, well, no thanks.

March 9

Chief Swan is ten types of suspicious.

I can tell by the way his eyes trail me when I'm close by. It's unnerving, knowing I'm being watched.

"Morning, Edward," he greets as I take the seat beside him at the counter. The dinner is packed today, people desperate to escape the pounding rain and the lonely walls of home.

I nod a thanks to the waitress as she pours me some coffee. "Chief."

His eyes narrow, gaze locked with mine. I keep them that way for a beat, then glance down. It'd be no good to challenge him.

J. Jenks.

Okay, I may as well admit it. I was the one who put the bullets in his head. All five of them. What can I say, he pissed me off. But, and this is a very strong and definite but, Crowley was the one who was suppose to dispose of the body.

Of course he screwed that up.

June 3

Esme has this tight lipped smile, keeps shuffling nervously around until The Doctor enters with Vladimir and Stefan in his wake.

He doesn't greet me, instead walks the Russians to the door. When it shuts behind them he calls out for me to wait in his office. My stomach drops.

Up in his office, I'm not surprised to spot Maggie. The bitch can spot a lie a mile away, and it's no wonder Carlisle called her in from Ireland.

"So, I hear the detectives from Chicago are in town."

Well, fuck me.

By the time Jasper and Emmett arrived in Forks, Rose was long gone. Carlisle's interest had waned, moved onto some girl from Alaska who spoke fluent Spanish, and whispered slippery words in his ear.

Unfortunately for me, he liked having me around. I was good at what I did.

August 15

James is good at finding people, and it's his idea to snoop around and 'meet' Chief Swans daughter.

That's how we end up at Newton Outfitters, patrolling the aisles like guard dogs, ears and eyes on high alert for any sign of the new female in town.

I spot her first, seconds before she walks through the sliding glass doors. She catches my stare when she enters, blushes and slips behind a tent display.

Don't believe what everyone says. If you want to know, these are the facts:

1. I didn't ask her out, James did.

2. I didn't kiss her until the night they had their first fight.

3. After that, we fell too easily into bed.

November 29

Bella's fingers trace patters along my collar bone, her wide brown eyes following the movement. She stops, turns to me with the faintest of smiles.

"Tell me a secret," she whispers, nuzzling my neck.

"What kind of secret?"

She gives a tiny shrug, sheet slipping down to reveal the pale curve of her shoulder. "Any kind. I'm not picky."

My hands move on their own accord, tugging her as close as I possibly can. "I can't get enough of you."

Being with Bella was a secret, if you must know.

We met without anyone being the wiser, or so we thought.

Chief Swan, the detectives from Chicago, The Doctor. Maggie who could sniff a lie in the dark, James who could find you with his eyes closed, even that fucking idiot Mike Newton. I should have realized there was no way for us to carve out a niche to call our own.

February 14

"What?"

Bella's cheeks flame, head ducking down. "I talked to some detectives the other day."

My heart stops for one agonizing moment, and I try not to let the fear show on my face, try to keep my voice light when I ask "Oh, yeah?"

"Hm. They said…Edward they said you…did things. Horrible things, and I need to know. I have to know if…Are they true?"

I couldn't lie. There was no way I could lie.

February 28

"We broke up," James sighs, pulling the tab on his beer. "Or, she broke up with me. Said she couldn't be with my type. Not with her father being in charge around here. Not with detectives poking around."

I say some bullshit line about how he's better off without her. Of course I don't believe it. No one would be better off without her.

When beer runs low, I make a quick trip out to the market for more. Matchbox sized town, of course I run into Bella the moment I leave the house.

It wasn't a secret after that, if you must know.

James was pissed, took off after some ex-girlfriend to get away from me. The Doctor was amused. Chief Swan was livid. The detectives were on high alert, watching our every move.

I was always careful to keep my work life and my life with Bella separate. I didn't want to drag her down.

April 26

"Will you hear me out, please!?"

"No," I snarl, trying to put as much distance between us as possible.

"Edward, please." Her voice is watery, begging me to just listen. "Dad says he can help! Why won't you take up his offer? Don't you want out?"

I whip around to face her. "Leave it alone, Bella!"

"Please." The word comes out cracked, desperate.

I gave in. Of course I gave in.

I was nervous as fuck wearing a wire, arranging secret meetings. Sleep began to slip away from me, and I'd spend hours awake while Bella dreamt, curled into my side.

Paranoid and on edge. I hated it, but Bella smiled easier, breathed easier.

June 2

The tub is too small for both of us to fit comfortably, but we manage somehow. Bella's back to my chest, my hand cupping her breast as she leans her head back.

"You're not a bad man, Edward."

But I am, I know I am. Still, hearing her say I'm good, that my soul is golden, is enough to tear my heart to shreds.

My free hand slips down her stomach, and she hisses when I slip one, two, three fingers inside her. Her body shudders.

"I love you," she breathes. It is the first time she's ever said so. I'm too afraid to say them back.

I'm not particularly fond about sharing the intimate details of my life, but you have to know. I have to tell it, can't keep it locked up within me.

Loving Bella came easy. She made it easy, or I made it easy. I don't know. All I know is I loved her, more than any person has a right to love anyone.

September 6

Maggie is on my front step, a scowl in place. "Your house is a dump."

"So leave."

She merely laughs, shoves past me. "No can do kid, boss man's orders."

I grunt in response, shut the door behind me and follow her to the living room.

Carlisle knew. And if he didn't know, he was suspicious.

I was getting sloppy, slipping up. Words stopped coming as easy as they used to. Actions were delayed, as though my limbs and brain were from two separate bodies.

You would think I'd get it, figure out that time was running away from me. I didn't notice. Not once did I even consider it.

November 16

"When will you be back?"

I keep the answer vague, because the truth is I don't know if I'll be coming back. "Soon."

Jasper and Emmett didn't want me to go to Italy, but sitting out on the trip would have been a neon sign of a tip-off. You understand, don't you?

December 17

"Alright," Jasper says, "It's enough. You're done."

The relief is staggering.

I'm a moron. As if it would be that easy.

December 18

Lunch is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The bread is that stupid healthy kind, with oats and seeds baked in.

Bella grins, takes a large bite. "Yum."

"I love you," I say, the first time the words have left my lips.

Have you ever said those three words to anyone and meant it, really meant it? Hardest fucking thing on the planet.

December 19

Aro, Maggie, Emmett. Spider webs and missing links. Carlisle and Esme and that bitch from Alaska. And Rose, sweet Rose. And thorns, and a dial tone when the other line goes dead too quickly.

It feels like slow motion, being underwater, all your senses dulled, reactions delayed. Everything is off and wrong and impossible in a way you never thought possible.

December 20

Three in the morning, the gaping mouth of a gun aimed at my heart as Emmett and Rose bicker at the end of my bed.

And all I can think about is Bella, how she's not here.

Endings, beginnings, middles. Stories stop and start everywhere, every minute, every second. Now, and now, and now.

Do you know the feeling?

December 21