Stolen Dreams

Disclaimer: Everything recognizable belongs to the respective owners. Is that clear enough?

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone that has read and reviewed this week. I am so glad you are enjoying it. Thank you also to Jenny Cullen for betaing this mess. She makes my words a lot prettier. Please see below for another note.

Chapter 9

The lab technician took a mouth swab and a blood sample from each of us, clearly labeling them for processing. Edward fidgeted the entire time, which calmed me, oddly enough. It might have had something to do with the fact that I knew he was anxious, too, and that I wasn't alone.

Dad met us at the door to the lab. "Hey, you two. I know you're probably ready to head over to The Lodge and settle in, but I have a few things I wanted to go over with you tonight."

"Sure, Dad," I agreed, casting a worried look at Edward.

Charlie didn't appear too happy, and that ratcheted up my anxiety. Edward simply took my hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly. Whatever it was, we would deal with it together.

We followed Charlie to the police station, where he waited to escort us into his office. He looked unusually grave. When he motioned for us to sit, we complied immediately. "Yesterday, I brought Bob Gerandy in for questioning as soon as he returned from Spokane. It took some time, but eventually, he confessed to arranging the adoption of your son by the Cullens."

I gasped and covered my mouth with my free hand. Edward clutched the other as if it were a lifeline.

"His story was interesting, to say the least, and I'm not sure how I feel about all of it," he cautioned. "He has also agreed to share his version of the truth with you."

Edward stood immediately. "Well, let's go. I want to hear what that bastard has to say for himself. Is he still in his cell?"

Dad frowned. "Sit down, Edward. That's the other part of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Warily, Edward sat on the edge of his seat and retook my hand.

"I was able to get Bob's statement, but I was not able to arrest him. The statute of limitations in Washington is only five years for kidnapping. Since the crime occurred almost ten years ago, there's nothing I can charge him with." Charlie sounded angry at himself and the law.

"What the fuck, Charlie?" Edward exploded. "This man stole our son, told us he was dead, and lied about it for ten years. The only reason he came clean was because he was caught red-handed!"

"I know!" Charlie shouted back. "Don't you think I want to hit him with everything I can? Don't you think that for one minute, I considered beating him to within an inch of his life for the pain he put my daughter through? Don't yell at me or lecture me, Edward. You weren't here to feel the aftermath of his decision on her."

Edward slumped back in his seat, breathing heavily. His jaw twitched as he ground his teeth, and he blinked back tears. "That can't be it," he muttered thickly. "He cannot escape punishment for what he did to us."

My mind was a confused jumble, thoughts and feelings each vying for attention and outlet. Like Edward, I wanted to refuse to believe that such deeds were not outside the law, but that was indeed what my father was telling me, and I was certain that he'd examined every angle he could. To think that Gerandy engineered such an elaborate ruse and coordinated with a family he'd never met, in a home he never . . .

"What city did the Cullens live in?" I blurted out. In another situation, I would have found both men's expressions as they stared at me comical.

Dad consulted his notes. "When Ryan was born, they were living in Portland. A year later, they moved to Los Angeles, where they lived until recently."

I saw the comprehension dawn on Edward's face first, and then my father's. "A federal crime . . ." Edward whispered.

Faster than I thought possible, my dad turned to his computer and began typing. "Federal kidnapping charges require a minimum of twenty years in prison and have no statute of limitations. Neither does the buying or selling of children."

The implications of his statement hit me full force. By paying fifty thousand dollars for Ryan's adoption, the Cullens were guilty as well. Could I see them prosecuted for a crime they didn't know they were committing? Would Ryan ever forgive us if we did? Would he believe we hadn't done all we could to get him back if we didn't?

"Alec Majors still works with the Bureau out of their Seattle office, I believe. I worked with him on a man hunt case a while back," Charlie explained as he picked up the phone and dialed a number in his Rolodex.

Onlymyfatherwouldstilluseoneofthose, I mused.

While my father talked to his friend in the FBI, I turned to Edward. "Is this the right thing to do?" I asked him. I wanted Gerandy to pay for his part in the ordeal, but so many others would be caught up in the net along with him.

"Of course it is," Edward scoffed. "After everything we've been through, why wouldn't you want to see him rot in prison?"

"Because it's not just him," I said, shrugging. "His wife, children, and grandchildren will never see him outside of prison again. Susan Mallory is actually the one that transported Ryan to Oregon. Will we take her away from Lauren and Caleb, too? The Cullens paid for him. Do we have them brought up on charges as well?"

I could see when my misgivings registered in Edward's expression. It softened and became more pensive. "I don't know, baby. I just know that I want Ryan back, and I want whoever broke our family ten years ago to pay for that."

I gave him a sad smile, because he was right. Even if it hadn't been Dr. Gerandy's intention, his decisions had had far reaching consequences for everyone involved. Edward could have died in Iraq or Afghanistan. The months and years of feelings of failure, insecurity, and pain had left me a changed person.

"Agent Majors is going to meet me in Seattle on Tuesday," Dad announced after hanging up the receiver. "He'll probably need to talk to the two of you, as well."

There was no question for either of us that we would make the time.

"Since you're already here," Dad said slyly, "I thought we could order a pizza at the house tonight. And you might as well stay to watch the baseball game tomorrow. Last Little League home game of the season."

"We can go watch Ryan play ball?" I gasped, excited beyond belief for something I'd once done only to see Edward in his baseball pants.

"From what I hear, he makes a mighty good short stop," Charlie commented.

Edward's eyes watered again at the reminder of how much his son was like him. Edward had played short stop all through Little League and high school, going so far as to help his team to the state tournament our junior year. "Pizza and Mariners tonight it is, Chief," he declared.

Watching Edward and my dad cheer on Dad's favorite baseball team—Edward had become a Mets fan when living in New York—while eating pizza and drinking beer brought a certain lightness to my chest. I didn't care about the game in the slightest, but I did care that my world was righting itself after so many years off axis. The man I loved and my father enjoyed each other's company, and the oppressive weight of death and loss no longer haunted us. Knowing that Ryan was alive and across town right at this moment was almost enough. If I worked hard enough, I could pretend that he was ours as he should have always been and was just spending the night with a friend.

Dad insisted that we not waste money on a room at The Lodge and made up the couch for Edward. I suspect he knew that I would end up there, as well, but he at least made a show of telling me that my bed had clean sheets. I changed in the bathroom and was sitting with my back against the headboard when Dad peeked his head in and wished me a goodnight. I heard his door close and readied myself to sneak down the stairs. Then, my door opened again, stopping me.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, when Edward motioned for me to scoot over and wiggled underneath my covers.

"I'm going to bed," he whispered. "If you want to sleep down there, be my guest, but I'd rather not wake up with springs sticking out of my back."

I giggled. "It's not that bad."

He raised his eyebrow and stared at me. "Bella, I've slept on the sand, on rocks, in the rain, and in the snow. I'm refusing to sleep on that mattress. It's that bad."

I laughed again and clamped my hand over my mouth to stifle the noise. My childhood bed was small, but we managed to smash ourselves together. As long as neither of us moved much, we'd be okay. And I got the bonus of sleeping cuddled very close to Edward.

When I woke in the morning, sunrays were filtering through the window and Edward was nowhere to be seen. As it was already after seven, I figured he'd been up for awhile, especially if he was trying not to let Charlie know he'd spent the night in my bed. On decent Saturdays, Charlie left before dawn for fishing trips with his best friend, Billy Black, so it would have had to be really early that Edward moved back downstairs.

Sure enough, when I traipsed downstairs, the sofa bed was folded back up and the sheets were neatly folded in a stack on the side. Voices from the kitchen drew me onward, and I turned the corner to see Charlie sitting at the table, reading the paper, and Edward leaning against the counter.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" I asked. "Shouldn't you be on the river with Billy?"

"Some things are more important, Bells," he said simply, sipping his coffee and never taking his eyes of his paper.

Fishing was like a religion with Charlie, so to hear that he considered something more important than that was shocking. My astonishment must have been evident on my face, because when I didn't respond right away, Charlie looked up and snorted.

"I can go fishing any Saturday, but it's not every day that I can see my grandson play his first Little League game in Forks," he retorted.

Edward caught my gaze with a sad smile and watched as I struggled with my emotions. Hearing that, hearing my dad refer to Ryan Cullen as his grandson, stirred something within me. In my mind, I referred to the young man as my Ryan, mine and Edward's son, but to hear it put in plain terms regarding my father made it real to me. I was going to see my son play baseball, just like I'd watched his father so many times in our youth.

"Charlie, will us going to the game cause problems with the Cullens?" Edward asked.

"Well, I'm sure they won't be too happy about it, but there's not much they can say," Charlie answered. "It's a public field, and you have every right to be there. They may still ask that you not approach Ryan, though." Dad gave me a sympathetic smile, as if he knew how much that idea slew me.

"How long are we supposed to wait?" Edward asked. He held out his arm and cuddled me into his bare chest.

Dad shook his head and laid his paper down with a sigh. "That's a question for your attorney. The DNA tests usually take about a week, from what I understand. The criminal case will be separate from any custody or visitation arrangements you establish with the Cullens. It can only make things easier, though, if your faces are familiar, right?"

"What time is the game, Dad?" I asked to change the subject.

Dad glanced at his watch. "The game starts at ten, but we should get there a few minutes early if we want a seat."

The clock on the coffee maker said that it was almost eight o'clock, and I tried to weigh whether or not I had time for a short run. There was enough nervous energy coursing through my body to power all of Forks for a day. "Can we get out of here for a bit?" I asked Edward, trying to control my anxious bouncing.

"We should have time for a short run," Edward answered with a grin. "Go get changed, and we'll head out." It was a mark of how well he knew me that he knew just what I needed.

We didn't talk much as we ran around the edge of town. I let the sound of my feet hitting the pavement, the beat of my heart, and our combined panting drown out all my anxious thoughts regarding what was coming.

Everything returned full force as soon as we got home, though. In just a short while, Edward would see our son for the first time. He seemed as nervous about that as I was. When I found him pacing the living room after we'd both showered and dressed, I wasn't surprised. Dad offered to drive us all, but I thought it might be good if we had our own car, in case we needed to get out of there for some reason.

The baseball field was packed. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, and of course, parents filled the bleachers. There was an empty space about halfway up that Edward, Dad, and I took. It seemed to be the only available spot. The kids were out warming up on the field, throwing the ball back and forth. Red jerseys, gray pants, and red ball caps filled the outfield as Forks' team practiced. The kids in blue from Port Angeles filled the other side. A whistle blew from somewhere below us, and all the players streamed into the dugouts. A few minutes later, the Forks Red Devils took the outfield.

"He's right there," I whispered to Edward, pointing to the space between second and third base where Ryan crouched.

Edward's eyes zeroed in on the little boy, and he inhaled sharply. "Damn, you weren't kidding."

I giggled. "Nope. Do you see how I knew?"

"Damn," he whispered again, stunned.

Ryan was a decent short stop. The ball only got past him once, but that was more because it sailed three feet over his head than anything else. He didn't get to bat during the first inning, but in the second, he hit a double, smacking the ball to center field. Once he made it across the plate and we'd cheered along with the rest of the fans, I excused myself and went to the concession stand for a drink.

Just as I rounded the corner with soda in hand, sharp nails dug into my upper arm and pulled me back alongside the building. Lauren Mallory faced me, Red Devils' Mom shirt on her chest and a scowl on her face. "I don't know what you did to my mother, but ever since your little visit last weekend, she's been terrified of her own shadow. She won't even keep Caleb for more than an hour at a time, because she's afraid she's going to get arrested. So, whatever your little deal is, just stop."

I stared at Lauren in shock. It didn't seem like her mother had told her the details of what transpired ten years ago. I wasn't, however, going to stand here and take her ire. "What would you do, Lauren, if someone came to you and told you Caleb was dead?"

Lauren blanched.

"Because see, that's what happened to me. But instead of actually giving birth to a stillborn baby like I was told, someone stole my son and sold him," I spat, taking care to keep my voice low. "Your mother delivered him to his new parents. If she's jumpy, maybe she ought to be. Maybe she didn't really believe Edward and I would give our child away without a word, but she did what she was told to do."

"My mother wouldn't do that," Lauren said weakly, but I wasn't sure she even believed what she was saying.

"But she did, Lauren, and she admitted it," I told her, keeping my voice as gentle as I could. "I have no problem with you, and I don't want one. You're a mother, too, so I'm sure you can understand. My son, the one I thought was dead, is out on that field playing baseball, and I want to watch him."

Lauren's expression shifted from horrified to understanding. "If she really did that, I'm sorry. I cannot imagine how that would feel. She is my mother, though, and the only help I get with Caleb. I need her."

"I know. If it helps, I don't think she knew what was going on. She might have found it fishy, but she had no idea that what she was doing was wrong. I'm trying to keep her out of it," I promised.

"Thank you." Lauren gave me a smile, and we both turned back to the field as a cheer rose from the stands.

Neither of us wasted any time in returning to our seats. Neil, one of Ryan's teammates, had hit a triple with the bases loaded.

Edward and Dad gave me curious looks when I retook my seat. "Everything okay? You were gone awhile," Edward asked, concerned.

"Yeah," I assured him. "Everything's fine. I just ran into Lauren. Apparently, Susan Mallory is afraid she's going to be arrested any day now, and Lauren wanted to know what we did to her."

"Huh. What did you tell her?" he asked.

"The truth," I said simply. "She's a parent. She understood."

Edward nodded and returned his attention to the game.

At his next at bat, Ryan hit a grounder toward third base and barely made it to first. Two plays later, and the third out ended the inning before he could make it home. The Red Devils were good, better than the Tarheels from Port Angeles, and ended the game with a final score of eleven to eight. I didn't think it was possible to be so proud of some kids playing a game, but I was practically bursting with pride.

We filed down the bleachers with everyone else and watched as they all congratulated their players. More than anything, I wished I could go give Ryan a hug and tell him how well he did. His adoptive parents were filling that role, though, and all I could do was watch. Dr. Cullen saw us over Ryan's head, and his face hardened. He said something to Esme, and she cast a look in our direction, before bustling Ryan off toward the car.

"I thought we agreed that you would stay away from my son until this was settled," Dr. Cullen said angrily. He practically towered over me.

Edward maneuvered me behind him and faced Dr. Cullen head on. "We agreed not to contact him, and we haven't. Yet. But there isn't any reason why we can't come see our son play ball."

"Look, the last thing he needs is some deadbeat parents that gave their kid up and now want to come play house with him," Dr. Cullen snapped.

Esme had walked up behind Carlisle just in time to hear his comment, and she gasped. Edward was vibrating, trying to control every impulse he had to keep from knocking Dr. Cullen flat. Getting arrested for assault wasn't on the agenda for this weekend.

He didn't seem to notice, though, and kept going. "He needs positive influences in his life, not a mother that got knocked up at seventeen and the father that abandoned her."

Edward's fist hit Dr. Cullen on the jaw and knocked him backward.

Dr. Cullen stumbled and sneered at him. "As I said, positive role models. Not some jerk that starts a fight at a kid's baseball game." He turned to Charlie. "I want to press charges."

"You most certainly will not," Esme snarled. "I don't know who you are or what you think you're doing, but until you get your head back on straight and act like the man I married, you aren't coming home with me. Major Masen, Dr. Swan, I apologize for my husband's . . . attitude. The letter we received regarding the DNA tests and custody hearings this week must have fried his brain. I've already taken Ryan in, and I'll be in touch once the results are in."

She started to walk off, but Dr. Cullen grabbed her arm. "Esme, give me the keys. You're obviously in no shape to drive."

She scoffed. "Like hell. You aren't getting in the car with my son like that. You can apologize to these people and walk home. If you hadn't caused a scene, I wouldn't have to explain to Ryan just what the hell is wrong with you." She yanked her arm out his grasp and stormed off to the black Mercedes in the parking lot.

Now, what do you all think about Mrs. Esme? She's a firecracker, isn't she? Leave me a note.

As you know, I am writing an outtake from Stolen Dreams for FGB. Here's your task. Tell me what you want. Something from the future, something from the past, something from Edward's POV? Please PM me or let me know in your review.