: :

She checks her phone multiple times, but there are no unanswered calls or messages, and there is no purpose to calling Edward incessantly only to hear that his phone is turned off.

He didn't make it to Anchorage, clearly. But why? It had to have been an emergency for him to not even let her know that he couldn't make it. But how is she going to find him with nothing but his phone number? He conversed with a limited amount of people who could know about his whereabouts, but how can she get hold of any of them? She has gran's number, but gran doesn't have cell phone reception, either. Just in case, Bella sends her a text message explaining what has happened and asking gran to contact her.

Driving home, Bella dials grandpa's number and tries to swallow the tightness in her throat.

"Forty degrees, light breeze, gorgeous sunset," he replies, shuffling around. "Good evening, sunshine. Is Edward terribly jet-lagged?"

"Grandpa," Bella replies, but her voice cracks. "He wasn't on the flight."

"What do you mean?"

Bella pulls over to the edge of the road when unshed tears blur her vision. "Give me a sec." She sniffs, wiping her cheeks with sleeves, and takes a deep, shuddering breath. Hoping she's pulled it together, she sits straighter. "He didn't get on the plane in Anchorage, and I—something happened. Some kind of an emergency."

Grandpa pauses. "How do you know he didn't just miss his flight?"

"I don't," Bella replies. "That's the problem. But in order to find out, I need your help. Help me brainstorm. Please, grandpa. You know I can't just sit around wriggling my thumbs."

"Of course I'll help," he replies, and she imagines him, sitting on the swing on his porch, thinking. He takes a breath. "Have you thought that he might've gotten cold feet?"

"No," Bella replies, and for the first time since Edward didn't show up at the airport, she feels and sounds confident. "I know this sounds like me being stupid and in love, but… you didn't see the way he acted around me. He loves me. I know he does. He was so… trust me."

"I do. I just wanted to confirm. Is Edward's grandmother the type of person you would trust to contact you if something happened?"

Bella thinks of gran with all her little quirks and fierce independence.

"Yes," she says. "I do, actually. The problem is, she spends a lot of time in the bush without cell phone reception, so she might not know about any troubles. But if she did, she would let me know. I'm confident she would."

"Have you tried reaching her?"

"Yes, and her phone is turned off. No surprise."

"Who else did you come in contact who knew Edward?"

"Mike and Jess. In Talkeetna. But… I don't know their number."

"Last names?"

"Yes! Yes. I do know it. Newton, I think. I'll see if they have Facebook. Mike's sister, too. Angela. One of them has to be on Facebook."

"Start with that," grandpa says. "I just googled the Denali National Park and they seem to be open until four PM. They're four hours behind, so… I don't think they're open. Do you want me to try?"

"Would you have the time?"

"Bella," he scolds.

"Sorry. Yes, please. Meanwhile, I'll google anyone who's ever been in contact with Edward." She takes a shaky breath, and starts her car. "Thank you, grandpa."

"Thanks for letting me help," he says, sighing. "Let's proceed with the assumption that he's alive and well, all right?"

"I couldn't—I couldn't… he has to be. He has to."

"I'm sure he is," he replies. "And we'll find him even if we have to fly out to Alaska to do it. You hear me?"

They made a great team, grandpa and Bella.

It's over nine o'clock when she gets home, turns on her laptop and starts coffee. She realizes she's shaking a little, out of nerves or anxiety or who knows what, but she's no longer on the verge of tears. She's ready to do whatever it takes to reach the people who could have information about Edward, even if she has to break Google to find him.

Grandpa calls to let her know that the park information phone line isn't answering, and that the Talkeetna Ranger Station phone did answer but knew nothing. Bella, meanwhile, finds both Mike and Jess on Facebook, and tries to sound concise and worried but not panicked when she writes identical private messages to both and asks them to contact her. She cannot find Angela on Facebook.

Part of her feels like she's overreacting, but a stronger part doesn't care. If something serious happened and nobody knows where Edward is, the sooner they know about the fact that he's missing, the better.

She distracts herself with the most menial tasks, trying not to panic or think of the worst case scenario, but nothing keeps her from checking her email and phone twice a minute, and even though she can logically argue that nobody spends their nights staring at Facebook messages, she's so anxious she can't help but wish they did.

Doubt and fear creeps in as she figures something must have, indeed, happened, because Edward knew her phone number by heart. If he had missed his plane or lost his phone, he could easily borrow one and send her a text, the way he did when she left. But he hadn't. Mike and Jess would try to contact her if something did happen, right? But what if they didn't know?

And so, Bella goes on a walk around the subdivision, trying to come up with ideas on who to contact, feeling herself panic as the hours pass with no word from anyone. She convinces grandpa to go to sleep, promising to let him know if she heard of Edward, and even though grandpa suggests that she try and do the same, she can't. Because, what if, after just getting together with him and being on the verge of something so wonderful, he got taken away from her? How would she cope?

It wasn't his time to go. They were supposed to die together as ninety-year-olds in an avalanche, found after permafrost melted from around them three centuries later when the Chinese had taken over the world and put their hugging bones in a museum. They'd analyze their genes and determine their age with Carbon-14, if nuclear bombing hadn't made that impossible. They'd make up stories about their love for each other and wish to love and be loved just as intensely.

She'd be okay with a death like that.

But to not have the opportunity to spend her life arguing and laughing and enjoying silence with this incredible man, to spend summers making love under the stars and meeting wolves in dark forests, she couldn't comprehend how painful it would be to lose him now. She couldn't. He had to be okay. He had to be alive.

Five minutes after one AM, just as Bella has no other ideas but to call the Anchorage Police Department, she gets a text message from an unknown number.

evangeline contacted me. edward left denali at 9 AM but never made it to anchorage. he was supposed to leave his cessna here. there's bush planes and helicopters looking for him now. if anyone can survive a plane accident, it's him. you can't help from michigan, get some sleep. I'll keep you updated. billy.

Bella doesn't have a clue who either Evangeline or Billy is, but she feels equally content and terrified to have received such a matter-of-fact update. She can hear Samuel crying upstairs as she writes back.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, whoever you are. Please do. – Bella

Ten minutes later, she gets a more official-sounding text from the Alaska State Troopers, from a woman named Jillian Fall, who mentions Evangeline's name as the person who insisted Bella should be kept updated. Bella receives a message from Jess, confirming what she already knew, but it's more emotional, and it sets her on edge. Every minute feels like an hour as she gets these small tidbits of information from people she's never heard of, all texting her because of this mysterious Evangeline. She keeps grandpa updated.

The search spreads when there are no signs of him between Talkeetna and Denali, or Talkeetna and Anchorage, and it's half an hour before four in the morning when she has to read the text twice to understand the words.

We have reason to believe he could be near Fairbanks. James from the 210 RQS

Another hour and a half pass with pieces of information as she drinks coffee, googles these strange abbreviations and stares at her phone, waiting and on edge, before a text from Billy makes her sit upright.

he's found. he wasn't in denali at all but north of fairbanks. he's slightly injured and exhausted but conscious and keeps asking after you. he had a boy, about seven years of age, tied to his chest and covered in blood. a wolf or a bear, probably. the boy is now unconscious but stable. edward seems to have run a long way. they're still looking for his plane. billy.

It feels strange to Bella, that a message that's essentially happy could make someone burst into tears the way this one makes her weep. She tries to reply coherently, but nothing seems to convey the depth of her gratitude.

Thank you, Billy, thank you. I'm grateful beyond words. Please send him all my love if you get in touch with him, and thank Evangeline for asking all these people to keep me updated. – Bella

She's smiling and crying when she sets her phone on the table and laughs into her pillow, pulling a blanket over her head and kicking the couch with her feet. She throws the blanket away and sits up, grinning like a maniac as she wipes away tears. The relief feels electric, like she could climb the walls with her energy.

He's alive. He's okay. He's injured but okay.

She sits on her kitchen table, kicking her legs when she brushes teeth, exhilarated and crying and not knowing how to deal with her emotions. She sends a message to grandpa.

He's okay! I'm mad with relief. He's slightly (?) injured but conscious. He seems to have gone through one hell of a journey, and I think he saved a boy's life, but I guess he'll explain later. The important thing is, he's okay. I love you, gramps. Thanks for keeping me sane tonight. – Bella

You had an incredibly level-headed approach to this, not that I expected anything less from you. Proud of you, kiddo. When will I see you? And where are my hugs and kisses? xox

Not sure yet. I'm sure Edward will have to rest and maybe they'll keep him in the hospital for a few days, and I guess it's probable he can't make it to Michigan, which is okay. As long as he's okay. But... yeah, I think I'll be there tomorrow (and by tomorrow, I mean today). Everything I've needed to do here is done and I miss you terribly. But sleep comes first. Aw, sorry, gramps: xoxoxo. – Bella

Much better. Let me know and warm cinnamon rolls will await you. Sweet dreams! xox

Rosalie's living room lights go on, and Bella listens to Rosalie humming a song by... Eminem.

Okay then.

She considers going to her to share this wonderful news, but other than grinning and crying and feeling like she could jump out of herself, the exhaustion settles in, and she decides this can wait until tomorrow. And when Samuel stops crying, Bella doesn't feel like wasting Rosalie's tiny moment of sleep.

It's half to six AM when she finally remembers to change into her pajamas. She wraps herself in a blanket, wishing it was Edward holding her instead, but the important part is, it will be. His heart and arms will be hers until they're both at least ninety.

When she starts charging her phone, it's blinking with four messages.

I didn't realize it was his girlfriend I was talking to, forgive me. That's one hell of a young man you have here. If this is something you didn't know, the boy is mad about you. He's well taken care of now at the hospital. Incidentally, your suicide trekker has helped us rescue more people than we've been able to give him credit for, and if it's within your power of influence, he'd be an invaluable member to our squad. James from the 210 SQR

Corporal James Locklear took Edward to the hospital. He said he vomited after crashing—concussion? His injuries are otherwise minor. The boy he rescued received a blood transfusion and got a shot for rabies. Can't reach his parents. Nobody seems to have gotten the full story out of Edward as he seems convinced he's let you down and is frantic about contacting you. We assured him that you're being updated and that you have no intention of breaking it off with him over this. (If it is, he's in no condition to hear it.) – Jillian Fall, the AST

I'm more in love with him than ever and I'm not going anywhere (other than Alaska). Please tell him that. – Bella

That's what I thought. I'll find someone who can. – Jillian Fall, the AST

He's alright! He's alright. I hope you heard. Nobody would've known about his absence if it weren't for you—thank you. We think the boy (Tom) ran away from home, but how did he get so far? Lots of questions. It's too dark to search for Edward's Cessna, so they'll continue tomorrow. They wouldn't let us visit him at this hour, but we're told he's fine, if a wee bit lovesick ;) I can't imagine being in another state if something happened to Mike, so... stay strong, I guess. Get some sleep. I'm sure you can talk to him in no time! :) Jess

My grandson is a strong man, Bella. He's lived through worse. He will live through worse, and that's something you'll have to get used to because I know you're serious about him. Thank you for letting me know about his absence. I know a few people, and I'm sure those directly involved kept you updated. Get some sleep now because he needs it, too. You can talk tomorrow. – Evangeline

Not once had it occurred to Bella to ask for gran's real name.

Bella wakes up at two PM after an eight-hour sleep. Her phone is blinking with dozens of messages from unknown numbers from the AST, the 210 SQR, from Denali, from Fairbanks, from all over the place. Everyone explains how they know Edward—met him, consider themselves to be friends with him, work with him, have been on rescue missions with him—and all praise him in awe-inspiring amounts. She reads the messages one-by-one before stumbling upon one that makes her heart skip a beat. It's sent at six AM.

I love you. I hope you know how much. I'm sorry. I've been trying to convince the doctors my head is too thick for a concussion, but they won't believe me, so I don't know when I'll be there with you. But I will try to be. I have a lot to explain. Go spend time with your grandpa, I'll be thinking about you. – Edward (the nurse whose phone I'm using is heading home, so don't answer)

The second message is from another unknown number, sent two hours ago.

You're sleeping, aren't you? I wish I could be holding you. Gran told me James found us because you let her know I didn't make it to Michigan. Once again, I owe you my life—how will I ever be able to repay you? You might just be my guardian angel. I have asked gran to ask everyone we know, pilots and friends and troopers, to send you text messages. I hope they've all reached you. Save their numbers. If you ever doubt where I could be, they are the people you will contact, and they will all help you. Keep my heart safe. – Edward (don't reply)

Two hours later, after Bella has explained what happened to gape-mouthed Rosalie and Emmett, she gets in her car and starts driving to the UP. Leaving feels bittersweet, but her relief is overwhelming and distracts from it, and she stops only once before the Mackinac Bridge to get something to eat. She doesn't receive any more messages from Edward, but it doesn't weigh her down as much as it would if she hadn't received any. All that matters is that he's okay, and the rest she can handle, especially with grandpa by her side.

It's a little after ten PM when she turns to Blackbird Lane and pulls up in front of her grandpa's two-story house. The kitchen lights are on before the hallway lights up, too, and her grandpa stands on the doorway even before she has thrown her backpack over her shoulder. Grandpa pretends to scowl when Bella takes a shortcut over the grass, but his face breaks into a grin when Bella throws her bag on the porch to hug him. His curly hair is in a pony-tail, he has a barbell in his right eyebrow and tattoos on his forearms peeking out from underneath his sweater. He smells like cinnamon rolls and home, and for some strange reason, it brings tears in her eyes.

"What will the neighbors think if you hug me for so long?" grandpa teases.

Bella pulls back to see his eyes, laughs, and hugs him tighter. "They'll be jealous of how much I love you."

She brings her backpack inside and starts taking off her shoes as grandpa leans against the wall, head tilted on the side. "So this is what's hip these days?"

He motions at her shoes, four sizes too big for her, and she looks down shyly.

"They're Edward's," she replies, knowing that she could've easily worn an old pair or bought a new one.

"Uh-oh," he says. "And yours are…"

"…at the bottom of a lake," she finishes. "Long story."

Smiling, he motions at the kitchen. "Sounds like a story I'd love to hear."

"I'll be right there," she replies, taking off her jacket and letting grandpa's cockatiel Jim nibble on her little finger for a few seconds. Jim breaks into a song, as he does after getting to nibble a finger, and grandpa laughs. It warms her heart.

She hangs her jacket and starts to leave, but a white coat with grey sleeves draws her attention, and her heart feels like it could jump out of her chest.

"Grandpa."

He rounds the corner, crossing arms in front of him, and his smile, although closed-mouthed, reaches his eyes.

"Tell me you bought it."

"And knitted a scarf to go with it," he replies before Bella pulls out a dark red scarf from its sleeve, mouth agape. She squeezes it, blinking at grandpa.

"He didn't," she whispers, taking a whiff of the scarf, but when it smells like him, like Edward, she feels light-headed.

"But he—he has a concussion. He couldn't—he can't. Grandpa?"

Instead of answering, he tilts his head toward the stairs, just slightly, and she takes three steps at a time as she runs upstairs. The door to her room is closed, and she hesitates.

"Be gentle with him," grandpa says, and Bella's heart skips a beat.

Her room is dark and empty except for her single mattress in the corner. Two large feet peek from under the blanket, toes resting on the carpet, and the blanket rises and falls as he breathes. Bella crouches next to his face and runs her fingers through his hair to make sure he's real. He makes a noise, a hum or a grunt, before turning his head and wrapping his fingers around her wrist. She can't see if his eyes are open or not, but he lifts the blanket for her and she doesn't hesitate to lie against him in her clothes. As soon as he lets the blanket fall and wraps his arms around her, she starts crying. The relief, joy and unexpected nature of his appearance, the fear of losing him, it all catches up to her, and it's overwhelming to realize she could've lost him so easily, his warmth and touch and love.

"I don't know what to do when you cry," Edward says, voice hoarse from sleep. His lips brush her temple. "You have to teach me."

"Hold me."

His grip tightens, and he runs his palm up and down her back. She calms down after a while, sniffing a bit, and presses a kiss against his bare shoulder. She wants to apologize for waking him up, she wants to ask so many questions, but it all feels meaningless because he's holding her in his arms. He's here, with her.

"I thought you had a concussion."

He takes a breath and lets it out against her ear. "No," he replies. "I don't. But I haven't slept in 36 hours."

She stops trailing lines on his skin and takes her arm from around him. "I'm sorry. I should let you sleep."

"Don't." His arms tighten around her, and he takes back her hand. "Never apologize for wanting to be with me."

She pulls off her sweatshirt. He presses his palm against her back, pulling her against him in a way that makes her feel so precious she might burst. He turns them so that she's on her back, rests his chest against hers, and hides his face in her hair. His palm presses against her waist, and his voice is barely above a whisper.

"Tell me nothing's changed."

"Everything's changed."

He stiffens, pulling back, and she's sure he's opened his eyes even though she can't see them. His voice is pained.

"Bella…"

"I love you twice as much as I did yesterday and I'm afraid you're stuck with me for life."

He exhales, lowering himself on top of her. She revels in his warmth.

"I can't begin to tell you how much I love you," he whispers, voice still rough from exhaustion and lack of sleep. "Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

She finds his jaw with her fingers. His beard is gone, and one cheek is covered by a bandage, but she presses her lips against his. He hums when she starts massaging the back of his head. She has so many questions, so much to ask, but it has to wait because he's been through too much, and after all of it, he's here, with her.

"Always."