A/N: So I've been sick. Icky. I hate being sick. Though I stay home from school and have all the time in the world to write, my muse gets thrown away with every tissue.

I've missed all your lovely reviews. Where did you all run off to?

Credit: Jess for her lovely part in this story. The Cake Eaters for getting me obsessed with FA, and giving me inspiration when I feel pathetic enough to sneak over to our DVD collection to grab the movie.

Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. Constance, Texas is a fictional town created by yours truly. I'm taking creative license on this story.

Chapter Twelve: All I Get

Isabella Swan—Age Nineteen

It took forever, but the results were in. I held Edward's hands tightly in mine, not looking up at the unfamiliar doctor who would bring me the news that would either end my life or set me free.

She slipped her thin-rimmed glasses off her twiggy nose and let them fall around her neck on their gold chain. "Well," she started, and Edward and I both clenched at the same time, "I have good news. You don't have leukemia, or any other kind of cancer,"

A huge breath rushed from my lungs, and I sat back in my chair. I felt like laughing, like I could fly. The silver shackles were broken from my limbs and the film over my eyes finally peals away.

"But,"

But. There was always a 'but'.

"But, your white count is a little high. It could be an infection, it could be nothing. Have you gotten any more bruises?" The doctor leaned forward in her chair, resting her chin on her laced fingers, her elbows on her desk.

I shook my head, picturing the spot on my back that was only still blue over my spine. "The other one is clearing up,"

"I think our best option is to just sit and watch you for a while, see if anything new comes up." And then she smiled reassuringly at me, and I trusted her.

Edward and I left the hospital hand-in-hand. I sighed, breathing in the heavy air of a fast-paced Houston, Texas. "You know," I started as he led me towards his Volvo, parked under a pretty purple-blooming tree, "I've never actually got to see this big city," I leaned over and plucked a big puff of purple flowers from a low branch, "I was always in a hospital room."

"Hmm," Edward mumbled, and I looked sideways at him. He was watching me, leaning up against the passenger side of his Volvo. There was a line between his eyebrows that I'd gotten all too familiar with since the Fourth weekend. I dropped the bushel of flowers and walked over to him, leaning my body against his. I kissed his lips, furrowing my brows at his late response.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked lightly, smiling to try and lift his spirits. We'd just gotten some of the best news in the world, and he was upset. What could be troubling him?

"Nothing," he said, but his beautiful green eyes were distant as his arms locked around my waist.

"Did I do something wrong?" I whispered hesitantly.

Edward's far-away eyes were suddenly round and focused on my face. "Of course not," he said urgently, and kissed my mouth.

"I love you," I told him, resting my forehead against his.

"I love you, too." And then he said something that made the hair on my neck stand on end, "I'm just scared I'm going to lose you soon,"

"I'm not going anywhere," I pressed my lips to the corner of his, molding myself into his body.

After a few minutes of strange emotional tugging and some of the most painful kisses of my life, he lifted his head and offered to take me around to enjoy Houston. I agreed, but only under the condition that we not go home today.

Charlie and Renee still didn't understand why Edward and I had come down here - they believed it was related to Friedreich's Ataxia, and I guess they didn't see the need in coming if it seemed I was cured. And I was a big girl now. Which was fine with me, because I would have never gotten to experience everything Edward showed if they had been here.

He took me to an Italian restaurant called Piatzo's that had delicious asparagus with chunks crab covered in a cream sauce. He took me to the Galleria and we ice skated, luckily without me breaking anything. He took me down the block to the Williams building and we stood in the mist of the water wall, kissing and being with each other. And then we laid in the grass and stared up at the top of the blue building as the sun set, the clouds moving so fast through the sky that it looked like the glass structure of the Williams building was falling towards us.

I lay, pressed against the prickly green grass with even my palms flattened against the earth, watching the head-trip above me, when Edward obscured my view.

"Let's get married."

"What?" I sat up slightly, and he pulled me into his lap.

"I'm serious, Bella." he said, "Why not? I love you, you love me. This is what I said before your heart surgery, remember?"

And I do remember, like it was yesterday and not a full year ago: "One day we're going to get married—like I said when we were like, six—and you're going to have lots of kids, and you're going to grow old with me, alright?"

"Please, Bella," and he looked straight into my eyes, and our lips were only moments away from touching, "Please, marry me,"

On any normal day, back in Constance, without the amazing things Edward showed me, I would have told him to let me think about it. I would have told him that I wasn't ready, that I needed more time to adjust.

Today, all I cared about was how beautiful everything fell into place, right on top of us.

"Yes," I whispered, and he kissed me so hard I was sure I'd never be able to breathe correctly again. I fell backwards into the grass, and he covered me, sliding a knee between my legs and peppering my skin with his lips, teeth, and tongue.

My left hand was suddenly in his, and his mouth was too far from my skin to be legal. He stared at my face as I watched him slip the delicate-looking white gold ring onto my left finger. It was simple, with a twirl of small diamonds faceted in the surface. There was no "rock," and to that I was happy about.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him slowly, tasting his musky sweetness on my dancing tongue.

"Thank you," he whispered into my skin. The water from the wall across the park crashed into the pool beneath it, and I smiled up at the sky as he kissed my throat, his heat radiating throughout my body.

The sun was setting, lighting the blue building into a hot flame over us, catching the rays in its windows. I refused to shut my eyes to the beauty of the world around me, even as Edward stirred those agonizingly delicious feelings deep inside my stomach. The mist of the falling water floated over us, curling my hair against my neck and sticking our clothes to our skin.

This is what I always wanted to see, feel, and taste.

We were wed before the night was over.

~*~*~

The wedding night. The wedding night.

Oh, what had I gotten myself into? While sitting on the side of the bathtub, with my head in my hands, I realized this. This was my wedding night. Who ever knew I'd get married?

Once the park beside the Williams building had closed, Edward and I skipped off to the court building. We signed papers, we kissed even when they didn't ask us to, and we made our way to a hotel. There was no ceremony, no flowers, no Mom or Dad, just two police officers as witnesses, the pastor, and Edward and I.

Edward was in the room just outside the door, waiting for me. Around my finger was the completed engagement ring and wedding band, burning into my skin.

I loved Edward, no doubt. Was I ready to get married? Not by a long shot. The day had flowed into my head, soaked through my veins, and gotten me giddy. When he asked, all I could think of was how much he had done for me, how much I could see now, and how much I loved him, adored being in his arms, and hung on every word and kiss of his.

And now I was married.

Mrs. Isabella Cullen.

It could work.

And maybe, if I told Edward how I felt about being a married couple, he would understand. . . .

Oh, who was I kidding? He'd be heartbroken, thinking I didn't want to marry him. And I did—that's why I married him, right?—just maybe not right now. I was nineteen, he was nineteen, we still lived in our parents' houses, and didn't have any plan for the future.

Me, because I'd never planned for the future, because I never thought I'd have one.

Him, because he decided that I needed a future, and had become a part of my future because of it.

I wanted him in my future.

So I was married. To Edward Cullen.

And I would go out with a smile, because he was mine now. For however long he wanted me.

I stood from the ledge of the bathtub to stop in front of the huge mirror over the marble sinks. The hotel was extravagant, just how Edward liked. I stripped off my shirt from the day and threw it over the back of the toilet.

"Bella," Edward's soft voice called from the other side of the door, his knuckles lightly tapping on the edge. "Everything okay?"

"Yes," I said, almost breathless by the concern in Edward's—my husband's—voice. "I'll be out in a second."

"Okay," he almost sounded hesitant to leave the side of the door, but I heard his retreating footsteps while I tugged my jeans off my legs, draping them over the toilet, too. My socks were gone then, and I found myself trying to catch my breath as I looked myself over once more in the mirror.

I was so very plain. Just a light blue bra and bikini cut panties. No lace, nothing extraordinary. My body was nice, I guess. I'd always been healthy, but never like the girls at school, the girls I knew Edward had been with. The corner of my lips tugged down, my fingers brushing along the obvious scar on my chest, pink and raised. Even after a year, it hadn't lessened in appearance. And then there was the bruise on my back, the other scars from falling and injuries I sustained throughout my years. What did he love about me so much, this damaged body?

And then I remembered that he had picked me, that there was a ring around his finger too. We shared a last name, now.

It didn't help much, but my hand grasped the doorknob, anyway.

Suddenly the door was open, my hand having turned the knob. Edward was sprawled out on the hotel bed, tangled within the cloud of fluffy sheets and comforters. His auburn hair fell into his face, and his beautiful eyes were closed. He'd dozed off, his perfect lips parted slightly. I smiled and watched him for a minute, leaning against the door jam. His body was bare except for his boxers, and even his breathing caused the muscles of his back to ripple.

I couldn't stand the separation of us anymore, and moved towards the bed.

I slipped my weight carefully next to Edward, hoping not to wake him. I placed one hand on the other side of him, so I was hovering over his godlike back. And then I lowered myself so I could place slightly wet, open-mouthed kisses along his skin. After the third kiss, he hummed awake.

"Hi," he muttered under me while I continued to dot my mouth over his back.

"Hi," I replied, moving so I was straddling his lower back. My mouth was between his shoulder blades, making its way to his neck, to the corner of his jaw, and finally the edge of his lips. "You're awake," I laughed quietly, running my fingers up through his reddish-brown locks.

"I am," he sighed, his eyes remaining closed while I massaged his scalp. My thumb on his back worked against a stressed muscle and I earned a delighted moan from his lungs. "You're good at that," he told me, pealing one eye open to look up at me.

My only reply was to whisper a laugh in his ear, and then he decided that this just wouldn't do. Edward somehow managed to roll over so I was over his stomach, his hands pulling my body flat over his. He lifted his head just enough to kiss my lips for a second before he rested back and stared into my eyes.

I didn't know how long we stayed that way, just touching—each other's faces, arms, and stomachs—and watching. It was nice, that even though we were in his nice, comfy bed, alone, in a hotel miles away from our real lives, that it didn't turn into a lust-filled physical act. Instead, we were able to kiss without frenzy. And I liked it.

"So, Mrs. Cullen," Edward said at one point.

I groaned and rolled my eyes, covering my face with my hands. We were now laying side-by-side in the bed, one of my legs draped over both of his and his arm behind my head. "My parents are going to kill you, you know,"

He pretended to consider this for a moment before shaking his head. "No, Charlie will kill me, because he has the guns. Renee will just help him bury me,"

I laughed and slapped his chest. Before I could take my arm back, he locked my wrist in his hand, and kissed my knuckles. "I love you, Bella," he said into my skin, and I moved so I was laying half on top of him, my wrist still in his gentle grip.

"I love you, too," I whispered, and pushed myself up to kiss him. His hands moved to the sides of my face, cupping us together in our own little world.

I wondered for a moment if he ever thought about how much he had changed. I never thought I would get here, in his arms—or anyone's, really. I never thought I would have been able to ice skate. I never thought I would be able to think about my future and not have the thought of my death constantly looming in the "Possible" for tomorrow's events. He had no idea how much he had helped me, brought me to life.

My hand was suddenly traveling down his torso lightly. I smiled as I felt his muscles clench under my fingertips. "You okay?" I asked with a smirk on my mouth.

"More than okay," he told me. My fingers danced between the "V" of his hips, just above his boxers.

"Hey, Bella?" He asked suddenly, before I could start anything.

I didn't remove my hand. "Yeah?"

"How do you feel about having kids?"

I rested my palm flat against his stomach, stalling. I knew this conversation would come up some time—did it have to be the wedding night?

The thought of Edward fathering my children made my lower stomach burn so bad I almost screamed. Who knew I'd have a fight between myself and my ovaries? I could see his babies now—green-eyed with that glorious auburn hair. If I had it my way, I would make it so that our kids had nothing of mine. They would be strict clones of Edward just because he was so perfect.

And this was the main reason I didn't want to have my own children. What if? was my question, always. What if Friedreich's came back? What if the bruise on my back was life-threatening? What if the doctors missed something?

What if our kids had Friedreich's Ataxia?

There was no way in hell I could bare to see my child go through what I had. There would be no perfect genetic match for them—I definitely couldn't donate stem cells, and even their father wouldn't be perfect enough for that.

So I found myself shaking my head, saying "No," while Edward's features fell.

"Why?"

And I told him everything, and he listened in an eerily silent way that made me trail off when I was finished. I stared at him, waiting for him to reply, when all he did was look up at the ceiling, his fingertips tracing feathery patterns on my bare skin.

"Please say something," I begged, touching his chin, trying to get him to look at me. "I want to have your kids more than anything, Edward. I just—I can't risk that."

"It wouldn't happen, Bella," he finally says, peeking down at me. "When I was tested to see if I was a donor match for you, I had them test me for something else. I'm not a carrier for FA, so there's no way our kids could have it."

This is true. Friedreich's Ataxia is a recessive genetic disorder, and both parents had to be carriers to bare children with it. But since I had both genes, somewhere, no matter how long it would be until then, another person would be born when Friedreich's Ataxia. If I could stop that one from not having it—I would.

"They would carry it." I said, and kiss his chest. "They'd be like Renee and Charlie."

"But they'd know. They'd be able to avoid—"

"Edward, please stop," I keep my mouth close to his skin, hoping to keep his mind from this topic. "Can we not talk about this now?"

He muttered something under his breath, his tone angry as he ran one of his hands over his face. I looked up at him, worry creasing my brow. "What?"

"Nothing," he signed, rolling to get out from under me. I reached for him, but he was already standing from the bed, reaching for his clothes draped over the edge of the chair. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand.

"Where are you going at one in the morning?" I tried to keep my voice low, natural, as if I wasn't bothered by his reaction.

He tugged his pants on. "I don't know."

I sat up, moving to the end of the bed and grabbing for him, but he moved away. "What is your problem today?" I ground out, holding my hands out helplessly. "I've never seen you in such a horrible mood."

"Why do you like avoiding things, Bella?" He asked me, and pulled his shirt over his head. He was really going to leave.

My throat closed on me at the thought of being left here in this huge, unfamiliar city. "Don't leave," I begged with a squeaky voice, throwing my legs over the side of the bed and standing. He dodged my advances, stuffing his feet in his shoes and grabbing his car keys. "Edward,"

"Call me if you need me,"

"I need you now," I whimpered, finally catching his shirt in my hand. "Please don't leave," I felt humiliated for some reason. Maybe it was the fact that I was begging my new husband to not leave me on the wedding night in my underwear.

Edward hesitated at the main door to the suite, his hand on the gold knob. "I have to clear my head, alright?" And then he left.

I stood there for a very long time, confused, angry tears staining my cheeks. I shivered, cold in my thin fabrics, before I decided to take a shower to get the feeling of uselessness and unwanted off my skin.

I was able to get the water as hot as my poor flesh could bare and dropped my underclothes to the ground, way beyond caring at this point. The water stung and the steam clogged my throat, making me lightheaded, but I welcomed it, wrapping my arms around myself to keep everything from falling apart.

They may have stitched me up a year ago, but it now felt like my scar was going to tear open and my innards would go spilling out onto the floor of this hotel shower. I tilted my head down under the flow of water, my hair falling in sopping curtains around my face. The vapor was almost unbearable and I threw my head back for air.

The water here would not get cold, and I took full use of this fact, letting the heat loosen my muscles as I kept my mind completely blank of everything except for that image of Edward's children. His perfect little children.

It wasn't even an hour when he came back.

I heard the bathroom door sweep gently open, listened as his clothes dropped to the floor, and stood still as he pulled back the curtain quietly. He joined me under the heated spray, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I'm so sorry," he said immediately, resting his chin on my shoulder. I ran my hands down his arms and threaded my fingers with his, but did not reply. "I shouldn't have left," he said, and I nodded deftly, turning my head just enough to brush my nose along his temple. "I'm so sorry," he said again, and peppered my shoulder with kisses.

His right hand started south, and my hand traveled with his. I let him kiss my skin and my head fall back onto his shoulder as he found my center. My knees were already shaking, and he'd barely started to move his fingers, so I rested most of my weight back against him as he started to work me. His thumb made quick circles around my sensitive bundle of nerves while he moved one finger deep inside me in a painfully slow motion. The different sensations of fast outside and leisurely inside sent me moaning his name into the fog encasing Edward and I in our own little world.

"Please," I whispered into the air next to his ear, and he obeyed, adding a second finger and then a third when I arched back for more. I took my free hand to my breast and rolled my hard nipple between my fingers, wishing for more friction. "More," I muttered, lolling my head to kiss Edward sideways. He sucked on the skin between my neck and shoulder, and rubbed my clit harder, finally increasing his tempo inside me, bringing me to an easy, over-powering release. I shook against him, shivering with the aftershocks and feeling his want for me pressed against my lower back.

If this was all I would ever get, it would be too much. Edward was just too perfect for me. Honestly, he could have had any girl on this earth and he chose me? How? How did that happen?

Everything. He was my everything. If he left me—

Everything I knew would be gone. If I lost him somehow, there would be no hope. He'd given me so much. So much. He showed me that it was okay to plan and wish for something to happen in my future. He showed me that, even if everything was not set in stone, it was alright to think it was.

Even for a moment.

So as he turned me around and kissed me for real for the first time since he left, I let myself believe that nothing could go wrong, that he'd fixed everything in my life, my future. The past was unforgiving and no one could fix that, so I simply let him draw me over his thighs and take me against the wet shower wall.

If this was what I was destined to have, I would take it with clutching fingers. I would hold on to Edward as long as I could, let him ravish and take me wherever he wanted, because I certainly wasn't complaining about that part.

"I'll listen to you as long as you hear me out," he said in my ear as his hips ground against mind, his length hitting a spot that he'd never gotten to before. How could he speak when we were like this—I had to focus on the simple act of breathing while he was inside me, and here he was, talking. I could only nod against his shoulder, moving myself in time with him. I moaned loudly as he suckled on my pulse point, one of his hands massaging my breast.

"I want you to have my child, Bella." His voice was deep and husky, a fierce growl ripping from his throat when I dipped my hand between us to where we were joined. I rubbed myself and touched his hard member as he disappeared deep inside me. "I want to see you swell with our kids, I want to be able to kiss your pregnant belly. I want to be able to run my hands over you and feel our baby kick against my palm."

I could barely understand him anymore, and simply hummed as he spoke, blubbering, and blinking water from my eyelashes. "Bella," he growled against my throat, "please consider having kids with me,"

"Yes!" I yelled into the air as I came, my walls tightening around his shaft. His thrusts became erratic and wild before he finally stilled inside me, filling me with his seed. I felt my toes curl and kissed his wet shoulder and chest, just peppering his flesh. "I'll think about everything for you, Edward," I said truthfully.

I let him pull me from the shower and dry me off, twisting my dripping hair around his forearm and wrist. Then he led me to the bed, where we spent the rest of the day after we wed.

A/N: Yes, they're moving too fast.

I'm thinking of writing a thing for Christmas. A little Christmas Horror Fest thing. What do you think?

Anyone hear the New Moon soundtrack yet? I haven't heard it all—but my favorite is already "Possibility" by Lykke Li. What's yours?

Oh, and tell me what you think about me getting my own Twitter account for my writing. I would post little snippets if I felt like it and such, but it is totally up to you guys. ;D

Hope everyone had a fun and safe Halloween! What was your costume? I myself was a dead reindeer. Bet no one else was.

Please review!

-R.I.