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not beta'd

Word Prompt: Cast

Dialogue Flex: "I need a few more minutes."

My stomach twists, clenches, and I stop where I am. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this.

He's here. The bridge of his nose is black and blue, and he's got scrapes and bruises to rival my own, but he's here. Alive, awake.

And for the first time, I'm looking at Edward, not Masen. Part of me will always remember falling in love with Masen, but the transition has been almost seamless in my mind. Maybe it's because there was so much badness, that moving past it, is crucial...a matter of survival.

New life, new names. Masen's supposed to be dead. I wonder if Edward Cullen is gone, too.

I'm distantly aware of Emmett's hand at my elbow, gently leading me further inside. I snap my eyes away from Edward's and look around the room, meeting the gaze of the other four men standing around. Like Jacob and Tyler, the officers who drove us to Forks, these men are US Marshals. They quiet when they see us, waiting expectantly.

Jacob clears his throat. "This is Bella Swan." He glances at me. "These are the officers who'll be in and around the premises at any given time over the next year. They'll check in on you from time to time, ensuring your safety and the integrity of your seclusion. Several members of the local law enforcement have also been chosen to assist."

The Marshals step around the couch, introducing themselves one by one: Embry Call, Paul LaHote, Jared Cameron, and Sam Uley. They're polite and friendly enough, with the exception of Paul, who's a little on the serious side, and very...official.

"Hello." I give an awkward little wave, unsure of the protocol in situations like this. I've entered an alternate universe, apparently, or a television show of which I am the unwitting and very reluctant star.

After a beat, the tension breaks on its own, the Marshals resuming whatever conversations they were having prior to our arrival. Emmett eases past me and shakes Edward's hand. "Cullen. Good to see you again."

"You too, man." Edward's eyes slide back to me as he stands. His injuries, like the bullet wound in his shoulder, are apparent to me by the way he moves. Stiffness has replaced his natural grace. "Bella."

He sounds almost...unsure.

It squeezes my heart. I don't want to pretend like his presence isn't my entire world right now, like I haven't been agonizing over him since the night we were separated. I can't pretend; I'm too tired, and I feel too many things for him. All of the fears I had concerning his well being and whether or not I'd ever see him come to a swell up within and then just dissolve, leaving me emptied and weak.

And so relieved I could cry. Again.

The room suddenly blurs as a result of the tears I'd hoped were gone, and a huge lump forms in my throat. Shaking, I trip toward him, wrapping my arms around him as securely as I can without hurting him. He sucks in a sharp breath, but holds me tight, tucking my head beneath his chin. I love the way he smells. That hasn't changed.

I may have known him by a different name, but there are so many things I know about him.

Minutes pass. A door closes. I open my eyes, and the room has emptied.

"I guess they know?" I whisper, wiping my face.

He nods, chuffing quietly. "I think everyone closely involved in this operation knows." He holds my face delicately, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over my cheeks. I wince a little, and he freezes, dropping his hands. "I'm sorry! Sorry...your cheekbone, right? I'm sorry, Bella."

"It's okay," I breathe, gazing up at him. "How are you here?"

"You really don't know?" he chuckles, extricating himself so he can lead me to the couch he was sitting on before. "I requested to be placed with you."

"That's not...I don't know - suspicious? Or a conflict of interest?"

"Normally, it would be suspicious, yes. But I'm supposed to be dead, and no one knows where you are right now except for the little cast of characters you were just introduced to. Not even your father knows." His eyes search my face. "And yes, it would be the biggest conflict of interest ever, except...I'm no longer employed by the department."

"What do you mean?"

He swallows, sitting back, and I curl up beside him, kicking off my sneakers so I can tuck my feet in. "It's not uncommon for officers who've been as deep undercover as I have, and for as long, to go on hiatus, or to even retire altogether. Besides, my injuries were pretty bad. I'm doing okay now, but..."

"Emmett said you broke your nose?"

"And a rib."

My hand flies to my mouth. "I didn't know."

"Hey, it's okay," he says, waving it off. "Hairline fracture. I'm just lucky it didn't puncture a lung. Really, everything else was superficial. Hurts like a bitch, but I'll be fine."

I take a deep breath, thinking about the implications of what Edward's just told me. He really is like me, not just for now, but for good.

"What're you thinking?" he asks eventually.

"Emmett said it's going to take a while for this to go to trial. When he said Forks was temporary, I thought he meant...I don't know; a month or two. But then he explained that it was more like a year or two, because there's so much work that needs to be done first." I shake my head. "This doesn't feel that temporary. And I know it doesn't matter, but I don't really have anything. My clothes...I don't have a phone..." I tuck my hair behind my ears, self conscious about how long and ratty it is at the moment. "I must sound really ungrateful right now."

"You sound human," Edward says, shrugging. "You'll get a stipend for food, clothing and other necessities, and they'll provide you with a phone. Easier for them to set that kind of stuff up to reduce hacking and trailing. It's probably all being dealt with right now."

"Have you done this before?" I ask.

"No way. I did some undercover work when I was younger, but it was easy shit. Nothing like this." He runs his hand over his head, making me want to do the same. I kind of miss his longer hair, running my fingers through it. "I couldn't put myself through this over and over."

"Do you regret it?" I ask, trying not to be distracted by his looks. The short hair does something to me. It's...hot.

"Not a bit. I did my job. I helped bring down a lot of assholes, and I met you."

My heart thumps. I look down, giving myself a little break from the intensity of his eyes. "So...you're staying here? With me?"

There's barely space between us, but he scoots closer, slinging his arm around the back of the couch. "What'd I say? Didn't I promise you?"

"Yeah, but I thought –"

"I lied about certain things, necessary things, because I had to. It was my job. But some stuff was absolutely true, and that was one of them. I told you I'd take care of you, and I told you we'd stay together."

I look at him again.

"Were you ever scared?"

"All the time. You have to be; keeps you on point."

"Was it hard?"

"Having to lie? No. It's playing a part."

Frowning a little, I start remembering things. "No wonder you seemed kind of...off when I kissed you, that first time at Tilden."

"No." He shakes his head, sitting up straight. "No, that was never a lie. I'd had feelings for you from before."

I stare at him,wanting so very badly to trust and believe. After all, look at how far we've come.

"Could you really not tell?" he asks, eyes searching mine.

"I – I don't know," I admit, confused. Everything he says make perfect sense, but I've never been in a situation like this. I mean, few people ever are. Additionally, relationships in general are new to me. I was with the same person for so long that I kind of lost my edge – if I ever really had one. Trust, reading between the lines, the dynamic of a new relationship...all this stuff is foreign to me.

But if there's any hope for me and Edward, and I desperately want there to be, I have to be explicitly honest about my thoughts and misgivings. I have to be, because I want him to be that way with me. No lies.

"I was a baby when I got with Alec. I don't really know how these things work, you know? He said stuff, I believed him. He did things, and I trusted. Until I didn't and by then it was too late." I rub my palms down my jeans, trying to fit my words together in a way that make sense. "You're nothing like him, obviously, but I don't know what I'm doing. I feel like I'm starting from square one. It's not your fault you started our relationship with lies, but it still went down like that and so now I have to get to know you in this new way."

He nods, staring out the window.

"Does that make sense?"

"Of course, Bella. I...this is why they tell you never to get involved. It ends up being this huge clusterfuck."

It really does, doesn't it?

There is so much I want to say, but I let it settle for now. After a moment Emmett, Rose and Jacob pop back in, arranging themselves around us. Edward's been prepped a little bit, but I have a lot of listening to do. There are do's and don'ts: obvious things like not talking to strangers or contacting family and friends from home, and less obvious ones like caution when using the internet. There will be "eyes" on the house at all times, and if ever either of us needs a hand, regardless of where in town we are, we'll be able to reach one of the Marshals on speed dial.

One of the reasons Forks was chosen is because of its near constant rain and cloud cover. Besides a surprisingly thriving fishing industry, there isn't much action here, and people tend to stay in a lot at this time of year. It's perfect for us, because we won't be expected to socialize much. Once the trial is over and our "real" fake lives begin, we'll be given our permanent placement and papers. We'll be able to fully integrate into society, living as normally as possible. For now, though, privacy and secrecy are of paramount importance.

When it's time for Jacob, Tyler, Emmett and Rose to head back to Oakland, we walk them to the door and let them out, promising to be in touch as regularly as possible. Well, I promise Emmett and Rose. I doubt I'll ever see the other two again.

Rain falls softly, more of a heavy mist than anything, and I shiver, realizing it's much, much colder up here than it was back home.

Home. This is home, for now.

Dinner is pizza. Delivery.

The kid barely takes the money before he's gone again, swallowed up the grey-black of early night. Edward and I eat quietly, muted by our thoughts and probably the heaviness of our situation.

I know that it will get better, that we won't always be this way, but it's hard. I'd imagined such a joyous reunion, and while I'd gotten one, briefly, it hadn't taken long for reality to kick in. I'm left exhausted.

After eating, I stand, pushing my chair back in.

"I'm going to take a bath."

Edward nods. "Okay."

I wander upstairs, to the room Jacob had showed me earlier. Compared to the lavishness I was living in before, it's modest, a full size bed in the middle, cream colored walls. I wonder if we're allowed to paint, and I think that maybe I will, just to make it feel more mine. The few belongings I brought are in a bag on the dresser. I grab clean underwear and a t-shirt before going to the bathroom. It's simple and small, but clean, and I'm grateful.

There aren't bubbles, so I just make a mental note to buy some and run the water as hot as I can stand it before getting in. It feels amazing, and I'm in there so long that when Edward knocks I startle.

"You okay?" he asks, muffled through the door.

"Yeah, sorry." I sit up, glancing at my wrinkly fingers. "I need a few more minutes, then we can switch."

"I'm all right," he says, voice already fading.

I hurry anyway, rubbing lotion on my skin before getting dressed. Edward's nowhere to be found when I make it out. I follow the sounds of a shower running to another door down the hall. There are two bathrooms up here and one half downstairs.

My books and things were left behind in that house on the hill. Not used to such quiet and simplicity, as well as such freedom from expectations, I climb in to bed and wonder if Edward will join me. I hope he does. I don't want to sleep alone.

I'm dozing again when he comes. He pauses beside the bed, and I pat the spot beside me, my heart pounding steadily. Having access to him, being able to spend the night at his side if I want, is overwhelming. We've always operated in tiny slivers of time, stolen moments and pretend errands. This is so honest, so normal, and I want him to want it the way I do.

He turns the light off and comes into bed. I curl on to my side, ultra aware of his nearness in the soft dark. His hands find me right away and he pulls me close. Our mouths meet like they were destined to all along, and I reach up to touch his hair. It's soft and spiky, and I love the way it feels, maybe even better than before.

Our injuries make us careful, but there's still this undercurrent of heat and need between us, and it doesn't take long for him to get my panties off.

"Are you sure?" I ask, gasping when his fingers slide inside, getting wet and maker me wetter. "I don't...I don't..." He kisses me over and over, teasing kisses that interrupt. "Don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," he promises.

We're on our sides. He hitches my leg over his hip and lets me feel him, urging me closer. It's not my favorite position but it's ideal for right now, keeping pressure and weight off of his rib.

I moan when he enters me, and he moans when we start to move. It's different than before, relaxed, like we have all night, because we do.

And when he curls up around me afterwards, when I reach back to touch his head because it's my newest addiction, he whispers, "I heard what you said that night. I love you, too."

sorry so late. tiny tyrant's nap is when i usually crank these out, and between voting at the polls and other stuff, we missed our normal routine.

anyhow, see you tomorrow ;)

xo