A/N: This is the end... I apologise for the delay-as poetic as that is. I've been hanging on to this chapter for 3 months. I rewrote it twice, procrastinated like a mofo over it, but in the end I had to do it. 5 years is a long time to do anything, and a lot has happened in those 5 years...
Anywho, Bella Down Under was the original name. I always thought it was corny and cliche, but there you have it.


Bella Down Under

chapter 52

Bella's POV

Were Edward and I going to make it?

Jacob's question gnawed away at me, keeping me awake at night, and creating within me an increasing sense of anxiety.

It wasn't something I wanted to have to answer—I shouldn't have had to answer, but here I was only a month into my relationship with Edward plagued by pessimism. It was so ridiculous considering how close we had become; how connected I felt to him since Australia, but it seemed typical. After all, it's not as if pessimism was an unusual emotion to carry around for me, but I was beginning to think I'd be shadowed by these feelings all my life; that nothing would ever be simple with me; that it would always be me, and not Edward.

At least, this time I wanted to believe that was the case.

If truth be told, I wasn't even sure exactly what Edward and I were now that we were back in Forks. We'd barely managed a week incident free; it felt as if some invisible force was always trying to pull us apart. I'd tried to remain in denial about it, telling myself repeatedly that things were only rocky because of the circumstances surrounding how we got together, and we just needed to find a sense of normal now that Kel's funeral was over and we were home, but a nagging voice just wouldn't be quiet, and it was making it harder and harder to remain in denial.

The fact was the panic I always felt about letting myself get close to Edward, the anxiety I felt over his impulsiveness and unpredictability, was only growing within me. In spite of how much I loved him, how much I physically and emotionally yearned for him, it had not gone away; it had only got worse.

And the morning he left for Vermont, I woke with a sense of relief. Relief that for the next three weeks I was going to get a break from the emotional rollercoaster I was on with him. That rush of all-consuming emotion was, for the first time in so long, going to stop. I didn't realise how much it had exhausted me, until he was gone; how weary it had made me. Of course, it wouldn't stop my worry over him, or my fear that he'd do something stupid, but it gave me a release; a moment to breathe; a moment to evaluate my feelings and collect my thoughts.

My thoughts, which in turn, only gave Jake's question more relevance, and I began to have a sinking feeling that the answer was no.


Two days after Edward was gone, Esme came to the house.

As I opened the door, my heart immediately quickened, just a fraction of a second before she broke into a warm smile.

"Hello, Bella…" she said gently before she reached out and took me in her arms.

I immediately tensed, but since I'd anticipated it I was able to get on top of it fairly quickly. "H-hi, Mrs Cullen," I replied, awkwardly.

When she pulled me back, her smile turned knowing. "Esme," she corrected me, in a teasing tone. "I was wondering if you'd like to grab a coffee with me."

"Sure," I replied, returning her smile, and fighting off the uneasiness as I did. I turned back to glance into the living room. Uncle Billy was sitting on the lounge watching TV, whistling happily to himself; Jake had broken up with Nessie an hour earlier. "Uncle Billy, I'm just going out with Mrs Cullen for a while."

He turned his head, then quickly got to his feet, coming to greet Esme, before she led me to her car.

She was silent for the five minute drive, turning to me only after she parked her car at the Hard Rain Café. "Go and find a table for us, Bella, while I order the coffee."

My uneasiness grew, despite her calm, warm demeanour, and I still couldn't rid my mind of what she'd said to me at the Police Station. I had a horrible suspicion she was going to ask me to break up with Edward.

I chose a place to sit on the decked porch, and was joined by Esme a few minutes later, carrying two mugs.

"Chai tea?" she offered, placing it before me after I nodded, and offered her a tense smile.

If truth be told, I'd never had it before.

She sat opposite me and stirred a sugar into her drink, seeming in contemplation for a moment before her eyes met mine. "I owe you an apology, Bella. Please don't think I blame you for anything that happened with Edward." Her tone was sincere, almost beseeching.

I nodded again, sighing beneath my breath and feeling my shoulders relax a fraction in relief. "It's OK, Mrs Cullen. I-I understand."

She smiled, it was sort of fractured and sad, before her expression turned serious. "I know you do, sweetheart. I can see it in your eyes—you worry about him as much as I do—as much as Alice."

This surprised me; it almost jolted me, immediately engulfing me with emotion. I nodded for a third time. "I do," I confessed, my voice hitching.

Taking a sip of her drink, Esme paused for a moment before her eyes, so much like Edward's, again connected with mine. "I don't want you to think that I think you're bad for Edward. I didn't send him to camp to separate the two of you. I sent him there so he can get counselling to learn to deal with his ... emotions."

Again I nodded. I was beginning to feel like an imbecile, but I didn't have any words, and Mrs Cullen still intimidated me so much.

"You know he needs it, don't you?" she breached.

"Yes," I answered, staring down at my steaming cup. As much as I wished what he'd said to me the night before he left was true—that it was just who he was—I knew better. I took a sip of the tea; it was kind of nice…

"Edward's always been short tempered—my goodness the tantrums he used to throw as a toddler," she paused and smiled to herself, chuckling softly when I immediately broke into an amused grin. "He's also very passionate and sensitive. He gets that from his father, but I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about the way he gets emotionally burdened until he's so angry it's irrational. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

"Yes," I repeated softly, as my heart quickened with an echo of the panic I constantly carried for Edward. "And he becomes unpredictable."

"Exactly."

I took another sip of the tea, before meeting Esme's sedate gaze and asking, "Has ... he always been like this?"

Esme set her drink aside, and clasped her hands together. "No. It first happened after Alice became sick. He got quite out of control—it got to the point where we were just as worried about him as we were about Alice," she paused, and I nodded in resignation.

"Alice told me…"

She sighed, and opened her mouth to continue, almost seeming to shy away from me. "It wasn't until the night of the prom that Edward lost control like that again."

I felt my breath leave me, immediately overcome with guilt. Putting my tea down, I rubbed my brow, ashamed.

"Bella, sweetheart, it isn't your fault. It's a validation of how much he loves you. You were in so much pain, and he couldn't help you. He didn't know how to deal with it. He was so angry he almost threw Emmett over the second floor banister. Carlisle … was going to sedate him … but Jasper managed to calm him down."

My head snapped up, my eyes instantly welling with tears, horrified. "I-I had no idea…"

She shook her head, attempting to placate me. "You were so upset, and we didn't want you worrying about Edward as well, but then Alice was almost hysterical. She pleaded with me to allow Edward to go to Australia, and it was against my better judgement, but since you've returned … he's worse than what he was before…" her voice trailed away and she sighed, massaging her forehead with the tips of her fingers, making it evident how concerned she was about him. "He's so angry, and he's so disrespectful to me and Carlisle. He doesn't want to listen. He thinks he's on top of everything and he's completely fine. The only thing is, this irrational anger is his way of dealing with everything, but it doesn't even come close to resolving anything he's feeling."

I nodded. I was beginning to feel helpless and defeated, as that pessimism where Edward and I were concerned anchored itself more in my heart.

"He listens to you, Bella. In fact, you're the only one he will listen to. You have this incredible healing effect on him that I know he'll take it better from you, than from me."

I felt my brow bunch in sudden confusion. "Take … what?" I asked, when internally I just wanted to groan, Oh God, what now?

There always seemed to be something, after all.

"He doesn't know I've arranged therapy for him, and the minute he finds out … well, you know how he gets." She huffed suddenly, brashly, before bringing her mug to her lips, her eyes half rolling.

And despite myself, I scoffed in agreement. "Yeah … I know…"

"I wanted to keep him as isolated from home as possible, so his focus won't be so distracted—you understand?"—I nodded—"but he's going to find a way to get in touch with you. I just wanted to ask if you could … ease him into it. If he thinks you think it'll be good for him … I don't know." She exhaled deeply, her expression suddenly weary, and I wondered whether this was going to be my fate.

To be so preoccupied with worry about him.

"If it's any consolation, I haven't heard from him yet. Alice told me he's angry that Jazz won't let him use his phone, so…" I broke into a small smile, shrugging a shoulder.

Esme grinned in full amusement, before chuckling softly. "Well, I'll be… Jazz is sticking to our agreement…"

"You must have put the fear of God in him," I replied, laughing softly with her.

"Oh, much more than that." She winked, her smile turning devious, before bringing the mug to her lips.


It was incredibly reassuring to know Mrs Cullen didn't disapprove of me, at all. It was a boost to my confidence, but it did nothing to quell the growing anxiety I had for me and Edward, and afterwards I went back to agonising over Jake's question; becoming convinced I wasn't going to like the outcome.

It didn't help that the first time Edward contacted me from camp he was completely irrational, and ended hanging up on me. I hung up, threw my phone down on the bed and almost ripped my hair out, I was so frustrated, but after speaking to Garrett, his camp therapist, I guess you could say, I started to feel the stirrings of optimism. Garrett described him in a simplistic way that didn't make me feel so overwhelmed.

"He's a flighty little prick, but in every retrospect he's a normal kid—and for heaven's sake don't tell him I called him that."

"Called him a … prick…?" I asked.

"No. A kid."

I laughed.

I didn't tell Edward, and every night when he called me I could sense the growing calmness in him. His voice was beginning to loosen, and he didn't sound so on edge; plus—and I'm not sure if it was connected—but he was a lot more expressively assertive. Some of the things he said to me almost made my hair stand on end. It wasn't a matter of him telling me how sexually frustrated he was—he did, numerous times. I could hear it in every syllable he spoke—in that deep, fluid voice of his, in his non-Australian accent that often pulled me up short; and in every breath he took.

It always came back to this with us, and bloody hell how it impacted me.

As relationships went, I didn't think you could get one rockier than mine and Edward's, and yet when we were together we couldn't keep our hands off each other. It seemed, typically, flawed and dysfunctional, like everything else about my life, but it still surprised me how physically charged I often was; though, it did nothing to quell it, and I wasn't even close to understanding it.

I often wondered what pre-Forks Bella would have thought about me now. An innocent, naïve girl, who was rabidly distrustful of every male in town—with the exception of Nummi and Kel's brothers—to a girl who'd lost her virginity after only two weeks into her first real relationship, and who subsequently wanted to jump her boyfriend at the mere thought of him. In fact, I had to remind myself constantly how many times I'd actually had sex with Edward, because considering the amount of times I'd dreamt it, it was beginning to obscure my view of reality.

Was I filling a void from my childhood, as Alice suspected?

No. It wasn't sex that filled the void; it was Edward himself.

Edward, this volatile person who was a stranger just six months ago, but who was now virtually ingrained into every aspect of my life. Edward, who had no control over his emotions, but who completely controlled mine. Edward, through all his cockiness and self-assurance, turned out to be just as damaged as I was, but in being so was the only one to make me feel whole.

The same Edward who made my heart quicken in fear and panic as much as in love and desire…

Pre-Forks Bella would have been understandably aghast, but post-Forks Bella's anxiety was beginning to lessen, and she was beginning to miss her boyfriend.

And the answer was now a solid "maybe".

Maybe, we would just make it.


A few days before Edward and Jazz were due home, Alice, Jake, Leah and I went into Port Angeles. We were going to buy graduation presents for Emmett and Rose, and for me, birthday presents for Edward and Alice. Emmett's graduation party was coinciding with their eighteenth birthday.

Leah and Jake just decided to tag along.

"Oh God," Alice moaned, upon seeing them in the back seat. "Are we going to be subjected to their slop the entire way?"

I laughed lightly, slinging my arm over her shoulder as we walked back to my car. "You'll be surprised what you'll be subjected to—believe me."

It had shocked the hell out of me.

It was a few days earlier when Jake first brought Leah around to meet us. She was the complete antithesis of Nessie that I was initially taken aback.

She walked in wearing a pair of greasy-looking overalls, a flannel shirt and an easy going expression, making Jake's grin reach levels of critical failure. Then as their greeting, Leah punched him in the arm—hard.

"What's up, dude," she said to him.

Jake's reply was to punch her back.

Then, in the next instant, they went backwards over the sofa, wrestling with one another.

I only stared at Uncle Billy in amazement, who was grinning to himself broadly.

"Nice girl, that Leah Clearwater," he commented to me.

I could only shake my head in amazement.

"Say UNCLE!" came Leah's voice from behind the sofa. I never understood that phrase, Uncle, but I never wanted to sound like an idiot and ask.

I peered over to see Leah had Jake's arm behind his back, with her other around his neck, and while Jake's face was steadily going purple, his mammoth grin did not wane.

I was almost in fear for my safety when Jake introduced her to me.

"Beeeeelllla…" she drawled, "I hear you're going out with that Cullen chick—he's hot."

"Uh…" I uttered blankly.

She laughed, and winked. "I'm just kidding—he's OK." She laughed again, before grabbing my hand and yanking me towards her into a one arm grapple-type of hug.

She smelled of … motor oil and perfume. It was a bizarre combination.

"How are you?" I asked, my lips crushed against her shoulder, before she released me.

"I'm good—yeah—what country are you from again? Zimbabwe?" And without waiting for an answer, she put her fists up and started dancing around the room with Jake.

"She's from Australia," Jake answered, blocking her swinging arm and chuckling.

They went outside to work on Jake's car not long after. I think Uncle Billy started to fear for his flat screen. I ended up watching them through the kitchen window as I did the dishes.

At first, I could only see two pairs of denim-clad legs sticking out from under Jake's rabbit, but in the next moment they were hosing one another, and in the next Leah was chasing Jake up and down the street hurling wrenches at him; their laughter echoing off the rain-soaked road.

It was only five minutes into the trip that Alice understood my meaning.

"PUNCH BUGGY!" Leah hollered—making Alice jump—before we heard the thudding sound of her—presumably—punching Jake.

Alice only turned to me, her expression comical. "What the hell?" she mouthed to me.

I shrugged, shaking my head simultaneously.

"God, I miss Jazzy…" She sighed.

I miss my Eddie-weddy too, I replied beneath my breath, and feeling all the more cheesier than if I'd said it aloud.


While Leah and Jake ate ice-cream and giving each other piggyback rides up and down the main street of Port Angeles, Alice and I went shopping.

I was generally terrible at picking out gifts, but Rose and Emmett weren't too hard, and Alice had basically advertised what she wanted all morning. Edward, on the other hand…

Alice had bought Jazz a pair of silk boxer shorts with love hearts on them, and tried to talk me into getting some for Edward. A part from it being completely corny, it wasn't us, and I wanted it to mean something.

I did have one part of his gift decided on. I had a photo of the two of us taken at Nummi's house that I was going to have enlarged onto a canvas. It was the day after Kel's funeral, and still feeling generally under the weather, Carol had sent me outside to get some fresh air. Edward had, of course, accompanied me, and we sat on the old wrought iron bench chatting until eventually I laid down against him, my head in his lap, and my legs dangling over the side. Rach had come out to get us for dinner and had taken our photo. Neither of us were aware of her, and so it was a completely natural pose as we gazed at each other, our fingers entwined, while Edward's other hand was cupped around my brow, pushing my hair back. And because it was dusk, the light had created a semi-silhouette with our faces just barely visible.

Rach posted it to me via Facebook messenger a couple of days after we got back to Forks, and I loved it. It was so intimate, as if it was a secret between us, but with everything that had happened after we returned I never got a chance to show him.

"Oh my gosh! What an awesome photo!" Alice exclaimed as I was arranging to have it printed at the camera store.

"Yeah," I agreed softly, feeling self-conscious; as if she'd walked in on something too personal. "I just don't know what else to get him."

"Buy him a pen. I mean, it's your thing, isn't it?" she suggested, casually, as she browsed through a collection of novelty mouse pads close by.

I opened my mouth to reply but faltered.

A pen…?

It was our thing, I guess, but it was more Edward's thing for me.

Though, in keeping with the pen theme, I ended up buying him a black leather necklace, and three silver charms to go on it. One was a pen, the other was an angel wing, and the last, a love heart.

"Aww, how sweet. Is this for your boyfriend?" the sales girl asked me as she wrapped it up.

"Yeah," I mumbled, my face exploding into flames.

"Is he your angel?" she pressed, while Alice beside me hocked back an obvious urge to laugh.

I grabbed the bag—without waiting for the receipt—and promptly left the store. Neurotic as I was, but I didn't like to advertise my relationship with Edward to the world; at least, not regarding what he meant to me.

It had become inherent in me, to have this constant need to guard anything so close to me, for fear my mother discovered it and then destroyed it.

Edward was no exception.

When I was in sixth grade, a boy new to the town named Riley took an odd fancy to me, and despite all my best efforts to sabotage it and deter him, one day I horrifyingly discovered him on my doorstep.

Renee had only sneered at him, before grabbing my hair, yanking me back from the door and shoving me down the hall to my room.

"I might as well tell you now, before your parents find out you've been here, Bella is not the sort of girl you want to be friends with," I heard her tell him, as I cowered behind my bedroom door, listening. "She lies, steals and will turn everyone against you. I'm actually fed up from all the abuse from the other kids' parents about her that I have to resort to this—now get the hell out of here!" She'd snapped in the end, her resentment eventually slipping through her facade, before she slammed the door on him.

I knew if I'd stayed I'd be in for a world of pain, so with my flight response kicking in, and just as I heard her slow, calculated footsteps move in my direction, I'd jumped out of my bedroom window.

With a deep sigh, I placed my palm to my forehead, impatient by these memories, and by the fact that they still carried so much weight with me. I had to keep reminding myself—as much as it continually mortified me—that Edward had faced my mother. He'd faced her and was still on my side.

Alice caught up to me, holding out the receipt.

"Bloody hell, it's too cheesy, isn't it?" I turned to her, blurting out as I took the piece of paper from her hands.

She half rolled her eyes. "Of course it's cheesy, but it's sweet and romantic, so I think cheesy is just a given."

"All right," I mumbled, breaking eye contact with her when her smirk deepened. I should have been used to Alice being privy to intimate details of my relationship with her brother, but I wasn't, and I was in the midst of cringing when she nudged me.

"Besides, Edward will love anything you give him. You know how completely nuts he is about you, belly welly." Her smirk turned shrewd, before she began chuckling a moment later, and no doubt from my sudden beet red complexion.

I glanced back at her, not knowing how to react, but deciding to explain it. "We have this thing … where we imitate Nessie and Jake, or how they used to be, anyway."

"Uh-huh…" she replied all too sure of herself. "I gotta say, we all knew Edward would fall hard when it finally happened to him, but never in a million years did I ever envision my brother using the words baby cakes."

"How the hell do you know this?" I screeched, going on the defensive to mask my embarrassment; though, I was grateful that Alice's teasing distracted me from the toxic reminder of my mother.

Her laughter only continued, until she turned to me, a warm, affectionate smile breaking it off. "He talks in his sleep," she confessed. "Now, what did you buy me?"

I let go of my breath into a rapidly broadening grin. "Not telling!"


Four days before Edward was due home, Garrett called me. Usually his number on my phone's screen signalled Edward, but Edward always called me around 9pm; I received this phone call several hours earlier.

"Hey, you," I answered brightly, my tone automatically turning affectionate.

"How are you, Bella?" Garrett's British accent spoke through the receiver, alerting me to the fact that it wasn't Edward.

"Oh, hi, Garrett—f-fine," I stammered, huffing to myself shortly after, wondering impatiently if I'd ever be able to combat this meekness.

"Don't stress, doll. Mr hot head is OK, but I wondered if we could have a chat?" he asked, in an easy going, laid back tone.

"Sure…" I answered slowly, and I guess my uncertainty translated through the phone because he started chuckling.

"Bella, everything's cool. I just want your take on him. You OK with that?"

"Ok," I said simply, half shrugging to myself.

"I want you to be honest with me, OK? No holding back." His tone turned momentarily serious.

I sighed. "OK. What do you want to know?"

"What concerns do you have most about Edward?" he asked, and I got the impression he had a set of questions written down in front of him. I didn't like it; I felt like I was betraying him, in a sense.

Still, his question wasn't hard to answer.

"That he'll do something stupid and kill himself," I answered without delay. It was my number one concern with him; mainly because it had almost become reality.

"And that's a reasonable concern for anyone, only with Edward..." his voice deliberately drifted with emphasis.

"Yeah..." I agreed, softly.

"Is it putting a strain on your relationship with him?"

"Everything is straining our relationship—if that's what you could even call what we have." My tone turned brash. It frustrated me to feel so much insecurity in something I had so much invested in.

"Do you care to elaborate on that?"

"I … I just feel like I'm suspended, waiting for something bad to happen ... and Edward is just ... Edward. He's so passionate, and I absolutely love that about him, but ... I don't know. I feel like I'm always on a knife's edge waiting for him to snap. I don't know what to expect from him sometimes, but I want to accept who he is. I just don't want to feel like we're spiralling out of control all the bloody time," I explained to him, beginning to feel more and more disheartened as I heard my voice validate my innermost fears, while trying to stop the emotion of it from reflecting in it.

"Edward … doesn't control you, does he, Bella?" Garrett asked me with apprehension in his tone.

"H-how do you mean?"

"Does he tell you what you can and can't do? Does he become impatient and abusive towards you. Emotionally abusive...? Physically...?"

"No! Of course he doesn't!" I replied emphatically, passionately, immediately offended. "He's not like that, and I would never tolerate that—ever again—from anyone!" And knowing I'd said more than what I had intended, I abruptly stopped.

"OK, Bella. Deep breath … calm down. Bloody hell ... between the two of you..." His tone turned soothing; though, a fraction of it appeared amused.

I took a breath, releasing my irritation along with it. "Why would you ask such a thing?" I conceded.

"Seriously?" he asked pausing. He sounded like he was puffing on a cigarette. "That kid looks at me like he could kill me, but in his defence, I've asked him some pretty personal questions; especially about you, my dear."

"Me?"

"Yes, you, my sweet. Edward—eventually, because it was like bleeding a sodding stone—told me about your past. In a kid like him, it was quite significant, and I think I have him figured out." He exhaled deeply into the receiver, and I wasn't sure whether he was waiting for me to answer or was blowing out cigarette smoke.

In truth I spent the next several moments cringing over the fact that someone else in this world knew the unfortunate truth of my past.

"Really?" I asked eventually, barely a whisper, and unsure to what I was really responding to.

"Really. At first I thought you were possibly the worst people on the planet for each other, but now I think it's the complete opposite." I heard him exhale again, and chuckle softly to himself, while I remained uncertain, and becoming more distracted.

"W-what made you think we were terrible for each other?" I asked, rubbing my brow, and refusing to get immersed in pessimism again.

"You both have so much issues from your past," he explained. "I initially thought the two of you together would be too destructive, and had led to some of Edward's actions, but now… Edward's completely consumed by his emotions, and from what his family has told me, in the past he avoided them—he replaced them with anger. The way I see it is, he reacts to you, the same way you no doubt react to him. You, Bella, who you are, your past, you force him to deal with things that he's long buried, and I suspect he brings the same out in you." He was being deliberately gentle and tactful, but it still stunned me silent.

I attempted to speak—to reply—to process it, but all that came out of my mouth was stuttering, and I wasn't sure I could fully comprehend what he was saying.

Was it Edward who forced me to confront my past?

It was Edward—more than Nummi and Rach, and more than Kel—who made me believe I was more than my mother's daughter. It was Edward who gave me that sense of significance to finally put her behind me. And it was Edward who made me feel it—not just believe it; to feel it to the very core of who I was. Physically and emotionally I felt it whether I was with Edward or not, but I never understood the implications of it until now.

Every day, as I acted and reacted to Edward, he'd been healing me without me being aware of it; the more I was pulled into this connection with him, the further he was pulling me from Renee.

I was so used to living my life as a conjunction with Renee, but now, she was slowly being eroded out of my life as Edward became more and more prominent. We had our problems, yes, but I was experiencing those problems with my boyfriend, irrespective of my mother; of her poison and influence over my life.

And suddenly Jake's question was answered with a resounding 'yes'.

Yes, Edward and I were going to make it, and I wanted to break down and sob, because to admit to it would finally destroy all the doubt and deception my mother had placed in my heart.

"You might not believe it, Miss Bella, but the two of you have won the relationship lottery. You are exactly what you both needed, so don't you worry about Edward," I heard Garrett say as I attempted to pull myself back from the brink of this new found revelation. "All he needed to do was open himself up enough to realise it, and he has."

"Huh?" I mumbled, before breaking into a strange sort of half sob, half laugh.

It was Edward who, on my first day of Forks High, made me realise that first revelation; that I was no longer going to be judged as Renee's daughter.

"You OK, sweetie?"

I laughed fully this time. "Edward calls me that."

He chuckled. "Listen, lovie, I'm going to put Edward on a communication blackout after tonight. He's going to hate me for it, but he needs to process everything. OK?"

"OK," I echoed, nodding. My mind was distracted, and my heart was racing, inundated and engulfed, and I started to understand that it had all been for a reason—everything between Edward and I. This journey that started in my past so long ago, with three friends who held me together, to one emotionally volatile boy who put me back together.


I found a place to park the Jeep at the beginning of the Cullens' driveway, just before six on the evening of Emmett's graduation party, and the day Edward and Jazz arrived home. The entire drive was jam-packed with cars on both sides, and I could hear the music blaring before I even exited the car.

I was nervous and jittery, but it wasn't from anticipation, and I wasn't entirely sure why.

I hadn't seen or spoken to Edward all day. He'd arrived home early that morning, and I wanted to let him sleep. Alice and I had planned on meeting him and Jazz at the airport, but the camp was rained in and their flight was delayed three times. In the end, he landed at Port Angeles at 4:30 in the morning, with Esme picking him up.

He'd sent me a message not long after.

I'm home, baby. I'm gonna crash. I'm shattered. C U tonight. Love you.

Tucking the gifts I'd bought under my arm, and with my heart reacting to the nervous energy beginning to course through me, I set out down the drive with Jake carrying Leah on his shoulders beside me.

Edward had extended an invitation to Jake and—at the time—Nessie. Jake had accepted; not because things with him and Edward were improving, but because being Emmett's party, everyone was going.

Everyone in the literal sense, it seemed, because when we reached the front door, I almost ran straight into Jessica Stanley, who shoved past me with her hand clamped over her mouth.

"PUKE, PUKE, PUKE, PUKE!" Leah suddenly began chanting, as Jessica disappeared somewhere in the bushes.

"Ugh," I groaned beneath my breath, before turning back to the door and raising my hand to knock just as it swung open.

"Bella Down Under!" Emmett exclaimed, suddenly reefing me off the ground, into his arms momentarily, before setting me down on the other side of the door.

"Hi, Emmett!" I had to practically yell to hear myself over the music. "This is for you." I held out his gift.

"Niiiiiice," he replied, taking it from me and shaking it roughly close to his ear. "Edith's in his room, bludging." He winked at me, before extending his hand to Jake.

Shaking my head lightly to myself, I made my way further into the house, fighting through the crowds, when I spotted Rose.

Throwing her a welcoming grin, she made her way over.

"How are you, Bella?" she asked—though I could barely hear her—bending down to kiss my cheek; all with her usual nonchalance.

"Good—I'm good."

She took a sip of her drink, her eyes breaking from me, seemingly on Emmett. "I like your dress. I'm too tall to pull off a kaftan…"

"Thanks," my eyes dropped to her outfit; she was wearing a white t-shirt with an hysterical-looking photo of Emmett printed on the front, "and I like your"—I broke into soft laughter before I could finish—"t-shirt."

She almost looked unimpressed, but for the small smirk that hinted on her lips. "Alice," she replied, or rather mouthed, over the blaring sound of the music.

Since it was exactly the same thing Alice had suggested I buy her, I wasn't surprised—not that I would have been, anyway.

Rose suddenly bent down to me again, explaining quickly in my ear, "Here she comes now. I'll see you later, Bella."

I had just enough time to nod and look around to anticipate her, when Alice almost literally pounced on me out of nowhere.

"Hey, girl—you're late," she exclaimed, hugging me impulsively.

"I had to park at the top of the road!" I explained, leaning close to her to practically shout in her ear while pulling her present out from the carry bag. "Happy birthday!"

It was a pink V-neck t-shirt almost identical to Rose's, only the photo printed on it was of her and Jazz kissing.

"Yay—I love it," she burst out after ripping the wrapping off, immediately yanking it over her dress. "Have you seen Jazzy?"

I shook my head. "No, but I saw Jessica Stanley." My voice restricted around her name. I couldn't help it.

"Oh, yeah—Rose and I poisoned her drink," she said with a devious smirk, before bursting into laughter.

My mouth fell open before I eventually laughed with her, when Jazz was suddenly before her—clearly semi-drunk. His hands were practically cupping her chest, before he plunged his ruddy face into her cleavage.

I whipped my head in the opposite direction, with the pretence of looking for Edward, when Alice reached out and grabbed my arm.

"Edward's waiting for you," she shouted, struggling to hold Jazz off, before she kissed her fingers and waved them to me, flashing me an affectionate grin. She said something else before she surrendered to Jazz, and was drowned out by the music, but it almost sounded like, "Wait until you see him."

I was so eager to see Edward, and as I made my way through the crowds and up the stairs, the urge to laugh over Alice quickly faded, and was replaced with the same overwhelming feeling I'd experienced since Garret's phone call.

Edward and I were going to make it. We were OK.

I knocked on his door quietly before I quickly opened it and stepped inside. He'd obviously just had a shower and was walking back into his room, buttoning a shirt over his semi-damp chest, when he looked up and caught my gaze.

My breath immediately caught, quickening when he broke into a warm, completely relaxed smile that quickly turned toothy. It reminded me so much of him that very first day at school back in March. He seemed so different back then, as if that person was a stranger now.

Was that who he always was? Someone who had got lost in this odyssey with me, and was only just finding his way back?

Without a word spoken between us, I dropped the bag I was carrying to the carpeted floor, and took a step to meet him, just as he engulfed me in his arms.

He was just as warm as he ever was, and as I wrapped my arms tighter around his waist, I pressed my lips to his chest, inhaling in the scent of him; of his damp skin, immersed with soap and aftershave that immediately began to heighten every one of my senses.

He didn't say anything, and I was just content to hang on to him, listening to him breathe—to his heart beat—before stretching myself up, to run my hands around his neck and into his hair.

Which wasn't there...

My fingers were met with spikes, which stopped me short. I immediately pulled back, taken by complete surprise by what I saw.

"What happened to your hair?" I exclaimed.

It was so short! The back and sides were clipped, and the length of the top looked barely an inche.

"Oh," he said, his expression turning wry, as he withdrew his arm from around me to run his fingers back through the top of it—as if suddenly recalling, "Max cut a chunk of it off."

"Max…?" I prompted, running my fingers over his shortly cropped hair, and throwing him a feigned teasing pout.

"A kid from the camp—little shit," he scoffed to himself, a smile lighting up across his face, and broadening by my reaction.

He looked so different, but at the same time it made him so ridiculously appealing, that it felt as if it was poetic in a certain way.

The past cut away...

It sounded completely corny, but it definitely seemed to be symbolic; the new Edward...

I sighed deeply, humming as I let it go, scrutinising him further, and deciding it was definitely a positive; despite it making him look slightly preppy. "It suits you—a little too much." I met his eyes, throwing him a shrewd grin.

He only chuckled softly through his nose, before drawing me against him again, and pressing his lips to the top of my head.

"You don't look like you, any more," I mumbled against the cotton of his shirt, feeling suddenly wistful and sentimental. Maybe he wasn't him any more, though. At least, the him I always thought he was.

"You're not turning all sappy on me now, are you, butter cup?" he murmured, teasing me, his voice muffled against my hair.

I broke into a barely audible laugh, nudging him gently, before he released me, only to curve his palms to the sides of my face and close his mouth over mine.

He kissed me, repeatedly, but briefly, placing his heated lips against every point of my face, lingering momentarily, before he rested his brow with mine. "Come sit down for a sec," he said to me almost breathlessly, before catching my hand and leading me to his bed.

I sat beside him, feeling sluggish and drunk; my hands resting against his legs.

"Baby...?" he breached, after taking a deep breath, sounding apprehensive.

I gazed up at him; he looked almost lost and vulnerable. "Yeah?" I asked softly.

"Are we OK?" He was serious, his eyes canvassing mine.

"Of course we're OK," I replied adamantly, feeling my brow bunch.

"You'd tell me, though. I mean, if you were feeling..." he abandoned it, his hand running to the back of his neck, breaking eye contact with me.

I took a weary breath, my hands smoothing down his shirt, before I slowly buttoned up what he'd left undone. "Edward, you know me. I would tell you. I promise you I would," I assured him, quietly, "but there's nothing to tell."

He glanced back over to me, a sheepish smile inching across his face. "Garrett ... told me ... you were just hanging on—I don't know..." he mumbled, with a half shrug.

I scoffed to myself. "Most days I am—but never with you. With ... just everything in general, you know...?"

His smile turned warm, almost sad. He nodded. "I know."

I sighed again, shortly, before breaking into a knowing grin. "Are you going to be a big sook and make me tell you how crazy in love with you I am, and how much of a spunk you are?"

He laughed, the timbre of it gentle, before he dropped his face to the crook of my neck. "How much do you love me, cuppy cake?"

I groaned good-naturedly, struggling to distract myself from him suddenly. "Edward…!"

Continuing to muffle his laughter, his lips pressed to my collar bone, before trailing up, and pausing. "I missed you, baby cakes." He breathed, huskily, before raising his head and taking my lips with his.

"I missed ... you, too, you big ... sap," I managed to utter, intermittently when he released my mouth, while beginning to lose my coherence.

Only a moment later, and just when I'd decided to completely abandon myself, Edward pulled out of it, with a resigned sounding groan.

"Okay," he sighed heavily, "show me what you bought me."

"All right," I mumbled, swaying slightly, and needing to brace myself against his chest to get to my feet.

"Orrite," he imitated me.

I shoved him playfully before I retrieved my handbag and the plastic bag that was still lying by the door, and sat back beside him on the bed.

"Okay, first…" I rummaged through my purse and pulled out my baby photo, handing it to him. "I owe you this."

He took it from me, studying it and breaking into a huge grin. "Well that's fucked up adorable," he said, going back to analysing it, before his eyes met with mine over the photo. "You had blue eyes when you were a baby?"

I grabbed it back from him, and propped it up against his bedside lamp. "It might have been the light," I mumbled, before pulling the wrapped canvas photo of us out of the plastic bag. When I turned to give it to him, he was holding the photo again, grinning to himself.

I only quirked an eyebrow at him. "Really, Edward?"

He put the photo in his breast pocket, before his eyes dropped to the wrapped package I was holding.

"Happy birthday, cheeseball," I said to him, my voice laced with teasing affection. Leaning in I kissed his temple, before dropping my lips to his ear. "Love you," I murmured.

He only continued to smile to himself, shaking his head a little, before he tore into the wrapping, which—using Alice's boxer shorts idea—had love hearts over it.

He paused when he first saw it, before holding it out before him and gazing at it.

"Do you like it?" I asked him, feeling suddenly uncertain.

"I like it," he answered, his tone softening. "Who took it?" His eyes didn't deviate from it.

"Rach—do you remember? When she came to call us in for dinner?"

"Ahhhh ... yeah..." He nodded slowly in recollection, his smile turning tender—as though he was lost in thought.

"What…?" I nudged him, gently.

He turned to me, his eyes locking with mine. "Nothing... I love it, babe."

"Babe again," I mumbled to myself, breaking his gaze—to stop him from seeing how much he was compromising me—as I reached into the bag for his last present.

He only chuckled.

"This one ... is kinda corny, but anyway..." I admitted, feeling my face flame as I placed the smaller package in his hand, taking the canvas from him as I did.

He took a deliberate breath, groaning with it teasingly. "Always corny..."

When he opened it and saw the necklace, he only smiled more intently to himself, seeming almost amused again, before wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

"Thanks, baby." He kissed the side of my head, before removing his arm from around me to unclasp it.

I only smiled to myself, convinced, for whatever reason, that he wouldn't like it.

"Okay, I get the pen and the heart, but what does this wing mean?" he asked, his expression turning almost sly.

"It's an angel wing," I answered.

"Am I your angel?" He looked up at me, his expression cocky this time, as he put it around his neck and latched it.

I didn't say anything, I just threw him a feigned, cynical scowl.

"Am I...?" he pressed me, his tone turning husky, as his hand slid to the nape of my neck, guiding my mouth to his.

"You know you are..." I breathed out, semi against his lips, before grabbing his shirt in my fists and opening my mouth further to him.

His breath shot through his nose in silent laughter, before he took me deeper and deeper; his hands becoming more adventurous, moving to my chest and inching under my dress...

And then he abruptly pulled out of it for a second time, leaving me completely drunk and intoxicated by him.

"I have something for you, as well," he stated, before with a secretive grin growing on his lips, he jumped up from the bed and went to his closet. He rummaged around for a moment before he turned around, a wry expression suddenly contrasting his demeanour. "Wanna see what my pain in the ass sister bought me for our birthday?"

"Okay…"

He held up a T-shirt with a photo of ... me on the front, this time.

"Oh God..." I groaned, splaying my fingers across my face and breaking into laughter.

"It's a part of a matching set. This one's for you," he elaborated, suddenly throwing a second white t-shirt into my lap.

I held it up; it had Edward's face on it, and written below was "Team Edward". I only scoffed to myself, shaking my head.

She must have bought them in bulk...

"I know, hey? It's even cornier than you are," he teased me, laughing good-naturedly when I threw it back at him.

"Just so you know, if we wear those, we'll turn into Alice and Jazz."

"Oh, fuck me sideways," he muttered, visibly shuddering; his expression becoming so repulsed it was almost comical.

"We can try that later…" I teased him, chuckling softly to myself when he immediately tensed, his ears deepening.

He gauged me for a moment, before his expression turned devilish, his eyes darkening. "Oh, we can, can we?"

I only shrugged slowly and intentionally, deliberately toying with him. Then shaking his head to himself, his grin replacing his initial surprise, he turned back to his closet, throwing the shirts at the back of it, and bending down to pick something up.

When he turned back around, he was carrying a fairly large, rectangle shaped box, with pink and white wrapping around it.

"What's this…? I asked cynically when he placed it in my lap.

"Open it, you pain in the ass." His voice had turned gentle.

I only gazed at him, my brow quirked, as curiosity pushed through the warmth, before my eyes fell back to the box in front of me. Taking a breath, I pulled away the bow, and took off the lid.

And then I froze...

I literally stopped short, my breath drawing back sharply, before I brought my hand to cover my mouth.

It was my teddy bear...

My teddy bear—exactly how I remembered him. It was as if I was seeing a ghost! A ghost from my past.

I couldn't move, I couldn't speak; I only stared at it, completely awed and flabbergasted.

His bow-tie, his suspenders and little trousers, were all exactly how I remembered—to the last detail.

It was as if he'd been here all along; as if he'd never been destroyed in the fire, at all.

And before I realised it—before I could even properly react—the sobs were erupting out of me.

"Baby, don't cry..." I heard Edward's voice, gently, beside me.

I turned to him. "Edward ... how...?"

He smiled down at me, his expression tender and almost stricken, and becoming blurry behind my building tears. He brought his hand to cup my cheek, wiping my tears futilely away with his thumb. "I... Baby, I had to get him back for you."

I only stared at him, shaking my head back and forth slowly, overwhelmed suddenly by a flood of emotion that I had absolutely no way of processing just then. "I-I can't believe you did this..."

He pulled me closer to him, until his brow was grazing against mine. "Bella, I would do anything for you," he confessed, his voice tender and almost uncertain.

I closed my eyes, the tears spilling beneath them, my mouth curving into an immediate smile as I exhaled deeply. "You big sap," I teased him, gently—completely overwhelmed—before I lifted my head up and caught his mouth with mine.

Edward was way too constrained, and breaking away first, he placed his lips against my cheek, before he pulled back, took the teddy bear out of the box and held him out to me. "Is he the same as you remember?"

I nodded, wiping away my tears clumsily. "He's exactly the same," I whispered.

Edward then nudged my face with the bear's nose, making a smooshy, kissing sound.

Chuckling softly, and inhaling back the threat of fresh tears, I took him from Edward, brought him back to my face and inhaled him in.

He felt the same—he even smelled the same. How could that be?

Closing my eyes, I held the bear against my lips for a moment, as projections of my past filtered through my mind; of the childhood I shared my teddy bear with, and the pain I felt when I lost him. A memory I had recoiled from, trying to shut it out, every day since.

Until now, because Edward had healed the very worst memory I had, and I was able to, finally and indefinitely, close that part of my life, and move forward.

Clutching the bear to my chest, I turned to Edward and threw my free arm around his neck, bringing him impulsively to me.

In the next moment we were kissing without reservation, which was our habit, and something I had never experienced in my life before Edward.

It was me who broke away this time, opening my mouth to speak, but needing to pause and catch my breath, as I rested my brow against his.

"Edward," I said, barely a whisper, locking my eyes with the acuteness of his, "ask me anything, because I won't say no."

Edward only reconnected his lips with mine, taking me deeper down with him, until all I could conceive was him; that burning intensity of him flooding my senses. "Stay with me tonight," he eventually uttered huskily, breathlessly, as he moved back a fraction to slide his nose to the other side of mine.

I only hummed my compliance against his lips, clumsily placing my bear beside me on his bed, before grabbing his shirt in my fists; needing his heated skin against mine.

"And every night after..." he added in a rustic murmur, as he laid me back on his bed, covering me completely in the uncompromising weight and surrender of his body.


Where there is love there is life – Gandhi.

The end.


A/N: thank you to Drowning in Chaos, who was a large part of why this story was ever written.

The epilogue that I began to post, that was originally a part 2, was complete suckage as an epi and ridiculously too long, so I am going to repost it as a new story/follow-on.

God bless xoxox