A/N: This is it, friends. Let's get to it.
Edward walked into the sunroom-turned-greenhouse and stopped short at the sight in front of him. The backdrop was idyllic. In the short distance, across the expanse of grass, moss, and trees, the setting sun sent sparkles across the gently rolling waves. In the foreground, Bella sat on a bench that had been pulled up to the window for just this purpose. She had her feet on the bench, her head turned toward the sunset. As she sat, she worked a pestle into a stone mortar.
He stepped softly, and when she didn't seem to notice his approach, he smiled. They were midway through spring, and sometime in the cold winter months, she'd begun to let her guard down when it was just the two of them in the home they shared.
Except for the small storage area with a worktable and the small couch Bella sat on, the whole room was covered in neat rows of planters. Some were still empty, having been built recently. Others were filled with plants at varying points in their growth cycles. Of course, the stronger she got, the less Bella could be convinced to just rest. She'd spent the long winter months teaching herself horticulture, designing and building planters, and converting their sunroom into a greenhouse.
Edward had found himself bewitched often. She did things with plants he found amazing. She'd teased him about it, reminding him about high school biology and the monk, Gregor Mendel, who'd done hybridization experiments on pea plants—early genetics.
"What did you think he was doing when they talked about him splicing pea plants?"
But he hadn't thought about what it meant, so the way she cut the branches of one plant and bound them to another impressed him. And, frankly, turned him on.
Then again, most everything Bella did was a turn on to him.
Now, Edward made his way along a row of plants that grew high or curled along the trellises she'd built for them. He was almost at the end, almost to where she sat, before she turned her head away from the window. He stilled, but it was too late. She yelped and almost dropped the mortar and pestle.
"What the hell are you doing, you damn creeper?"
Grinning, Edward crossed the remaining steps to her quickly. He caught her legs before she straightened and draped them over his knees as he sat beside her. "I live here. You can't be a creeper in your own house."
"I don't know. You're making a damn good case for it." She glared at him, but there was no heat behind her look. He stared back at her coolly. She broke first, her face cracking into a small smile as she leaned in and pressed a soft, sweet kiss to his lips.
A pleasant thrill went down his spine. It had been months since Benjamin and Tia's December wedding, and still, every kiss felt like a miracle to Edward. She had pulled him into her bed in late December, murmuring some excuse like she had when they were still walking.
"You're still the last man on the planet for me. You get that, right? You get what this is?"
And he'd let her tell herself whatever she needed to. He didn't tell her how he felt; what he wanted most. He let her lead, let her untangle the mixed messages she was throwing out. She spoke about leaving but with each passing month, her ties to this house, this community, to him only seemed to grow.
He brushed his lips along her cheek, merely skimming her skin. "You know, if we find you one of those Ren Faire outfits you'd make quite the mystic—over here with your potions and tinctures."
She made a soft noise, a sigh, and pulled back from him enough that he could see her arched eyebrow. "You caught me," she deadpanned. "It's a back-up plan for women to kill their abusive husbands without getting caught. You know...if it becomes necessary."
His breath caught, and he searched her face to see if she was serious. She tilted her head, and he rolled his eyes. "Like I could put it past you," he said. "You could do it, right? Kill a man with plants."
"It's not difficult. Especially when there's no such thing as toxicology reports." She waggled her eyebrows. "But this is pot."
He blinked. "Pot. Like… pot pot?"
"How can you not smell it?" She laughed and reached over her shoulder to get what he realized was a box of rolling papers. She looked down, intent on her work as she spoke. "You weren't far off with that whole bit about potions." She shook her head. "We have to assume it's going to be awhile before we start making modern medicine again. I'm trying to figure out what it would take to make a medicine garden. Old school, homeopathic remedies like we talked about on the trail. Peppermint for upset stomachs. Willow bark for minor pain relief."
"Right, because the bottles of ibuprofen and Pepto aren't going to be around forever."
"Yep. And as for this..." She lifted the joint she'd rolled between two fingers, holding it up to him. Her eyes seemed to tighten at the corners. "Shelley Cope is dying of cancer. I can't make chemo meds, but I can do what I can to help her with the pain."
Edward squeezed her knee, drawing his fingers up and down her thigh. It was one of his father's biggest frustrations as well. There were a few in their little society who suffered greatly or were, like Ms. Cope, dying without access to the medicines they'd depended on. There was no network of doctors, hospitals, and specialists to consult. It was maddening, because it all still existed.
They were doing the best they could with what they had.
Bella took a deep breath and made an obvious effort to find levity again. "Maybe there's no FDA, but that doesn't mean we can relax our quality control." She produced a box of matches.
His lips quirked up. "Ah. It's only ethical to test the product. Quality control."
She nodded and lit the end of the joint.
He wasn't going to pretend he didn't find the sight erotic. Electricity went through him, making his every nerve-ending awake and aware. He watched, riveted, as she inhaled deep. She pulled the joint away from her lips and blew the smoke out into a haze around him. He inhaled, already dizzy.
She passed the joint to him, and he held her gaze as he inhaled. He coughed—just a little, but so not sexy. Still, it was worth it to see her laugh. "Been a hot minute since college," he said.
"Sure." She took the joint from him and took another, quicker puff. She leaned forward, taking his lips. He opened to her, breathing in the smoke she breathed out in a slow exhale. Edward closed his eyes and savored.
"Better?" she asked as she pulled back a moment later. Her voice was scratchy and low. The sound of it reverberated under his skin.
Edward hummed. Yeah. It was good. Better than he remembered, or maybe it was just the method of delivery. His eyes darted down to her lips and lingered. When he raised his eyes back up to hers he could feel the energy between them. She darted her tongue out, and that was all the invitation he needed. He leaned in and kissed her. They were hungry, seeking kisses, and when she pressed back, opened her mouth to him, he asked for more.
There was a small frenzy of movement. He took the mortar and pestle from her lap and she put the joint out.
It was like this sometimes with them. Their eyes would meet and two seconds later they were horizontal with their clothes off. Some things were the same in this strange, horrible world. They were a man and a woman newly in love—whether or not she was willing to admit it. They were wild for each other.
The little couch couldn't contain them. Edward slid onto the floor and pulled her down with him onto the rug. It was a plush thing—the kind that had fit when it had been a sunroom and now Edward was glad Bella hadn't gotten around to replacing. He laid her down, his fingers exploring, caressing, stroking along her clit and her entrance. With his free hand he held himself above her, catching each of her little moans with his mouth. She arched up against his hand. Her hands roamed his body; her fingers tangled in his hair, traced a path down his back, and cupped his ass. Her questing hands dipped lower and circled his shaft. She stroked, gently at first and then firmer, matching the rhythm of his fingers. He gave some of her moans back, breathing them into her as his tongue slid along hers.
She pulled back, panting, and licked her lips. He swore he could have come at the sight of her—hair wild around her, face flushed, lips plump and shiny with his kisses. "I want you," she whispered.
His fingers, curled inside her, stopped. He stared, trying to process. "You mean…"
"I mean I got a shot. We're good."
Some part of his mind understood the significance of this statement. The shot was one of the long-term birth control options offered on the island with their store of hoarded medical supplies. He had some definite questions about how often she planned on needing protection from pregnancy and what that meant about how long she planned to be in one place to practice preventing pregnancies—
Bella squeezed his cock, her fingertips skimming along his balls, and Edward decided to shelve those questions for study later. She wanted him. She'd asked nicely. He wasn't going to make her beg.
Not tonight, anyway.
He turned all his concentration on her, and gave her all the things she wouldn't let him say out loud.
He tilted his head down, as he positioned himself over her, and ran the tip of his nose along her cheek. As he passed her lips he pressed a gentle kiss there. He let his body say all the soft, tender things he would whisper in her ear. Her answering moan was quiet, so sweet, and she tilted her head so he could nuzzle her neck.
Bella kept a hand wrapped around him. Her tongue stroked his in time with each pump of her fist. She spread her legs, guiding him to her.
His thrusts were slow at first—a gentle rock of the hips. But just as before, she rose to meet him, and he let her feel all the pent up passion he had for her. He bucked against her, driving in hard and deep. She gasped, breaking their kiss as she threw her head back.
Quickly, the position wasn't good enough. He needed more access, needed the use of his hands to touch and pinch and squeeze. He rolled them onto their sides, hitching her leg up over his hip as he did.
"Oh, hell," Bella said on a breath as his thrust drove him deeper. Her moans spiked higher in pitch. "Oh. Oh. Oh!"
His hands roamed. He rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She yelped when he squeezed, and the sound of it shot through him, making his cock jump inside her.
Again, needing more, he shifted them. He left her on her side but he sat up, kneeling between her legs. He hitched her left leg up higher around his hip, and let out a long groan as he buried himself inside her. "God, baby," he whispered hoarsely.
Their eyes met, locked, and Edward's whole body quaked. She was inside him, part of him. What he felt for her he felt in the marrow of his bones.
He spoke with his body; showed her what he felt.
She could talk all she wanted about how they were inevitable—he was the only man in her world, and she was an attractive woman. They were trauma-bonded, but that's all they were.
Bullshit.
It had never been like this; not with anyone else.
The build of pressure at his core was bigger, deeper. The pleasure that shot through him, spiked with lightning and heated by fire, was tinged with something else. He was in love with her, and giving himself over to the sensation of it, he understood the difference between pleasure and ecstasy.
"Please. Please. Please," she begged after all, and Edward thought he would lose his mind.
When she screamed his name, he did.
They came down slowly. It took Edward minutes to realize how tangled they were. He gasped when her fingers touched parts of him still far too sensitive. His nerve endings crackled, and he realized she had a hand around the base of his shaft.
She'd been feeling the way he moved in her. Edward groaned, closing his eyes and chuckling because she drove him so crazy.
"Need my hand back." She still sounded breathless.
Edward grunted. He gathered her to him, kissing her temple, and then let her go. Gently, he untangled their limbs until they were two separate entities again, lying side by side.
To his dismay, she got up but only long enough to retrieve the joint from before. She lay back down beside him. There was only an inch of space between them and, to Edward, it was too much, but he didn't push. For now, it was enough that she didn't protest when he reached out to rub her knee.
For once, the sky outside was clear and so the moonlight that filtered in through the wall of windows was enough to illuminate the room. They lay on the floor together, passing the joint between them. Bella started rambling sleepily about the medicinal uses of marijuana and how the plant could be hybridized to produce more effective treatments depending on the malady. She segued into other useful plants and how quickly they could be grown and harvested.
"This yard is big enough for two huge greenhouses." She gestured vaguely out the wall of windows. "One for food and one for medicine. Actually, we should be encouraging and helping people turn their sunrooms into greenhouses like this one. I bet most of the houses on these islands have rooms like this. Even a small garden would help. Like a Victory Garden from World War I."
Edward hummed, inhaling another puff and watching the smoke curl out and away from him.
"I wonder if we can get enough glass to make two greenhouses on the lawn," Bella mused. She crossed one leg, so it rested on her other knee and bounced her foot.
He watched, admiring the shape of her leg as he debated to say what was on his mind. "Designing the greenhouses, rallying the villagers to plant their Victory Gardens, finding the resources... That sounds like a lot of work." He paused, giving her room to speak. When she didn't, he continued. "It doesn't sound like something that can be done before summer."
Before she was supposed to head out, possibly never to be seen again.
The silence lingered. Outside, the trees rustled in the breeze. Minutes passed and then, Bella sighed. It was a long sound—a deep inhale of breath and its slow release.
She rolled and straddled him, holding herself on both arms. Her breasts pressed against his chest. She stared at him, still not speaking. He met her gaze, calm though his heartbeat picked up, not knowing quite what to expect. He ran his fingertips up her side, lingering at the scar where his father had pushed a tube into her skin to reinflate her collapsed lung.
"I want..." She swallowed and the expression on her face grew serious as she looked down on him. "Don't ever forget how many ways I know to kill you."
Edward's breath caught. He replayed the words in his head, and he couldn't help the strangled laugh that came out.
She pointed at him, her look fierce. "I'm not kidding. Putting this world back together isn't going to be pretty. Look at everything that's normal to us now that wouldn't have been a few years ago. We don't know what the world is going to look like. You're not above it, Edward. You're not above thinking the same way Jacob did. All it takes for any of us to be someone we don't recognize is the right set of circumstances."
He clenched his jaw, catching himself before he argued. He would never...He could never...
He swallowed the rage the comment brought in him and held her gaze.
"I'm just saying. If, at some point, you start to think you're entitled to me, I will stab first and ask questions later. It doesn't matter how much I love you; you will never own me."
His lip twitched, and despite the fact he still wanted to yell about how not like Jacob he was, her words quickly distracted him. "You love me?"
Her eyes popped wide, and she sucked in a sharp breath. Putting her hands over her face, she moaned and rolled off him, onto her back again. After a moment, she sighed heavily. "Yeah," she admitted. "I figured it out a while back, but I was trying to talk some sense into myself."
"Well..." Edward had to press his lips together hard to suppress the grin that threatened to make an appearance. "I'm glad we finally found something you're bad at."
She groaned, covering her face with her hands, but then she gave a small giggle. "Hitching my wagon to you definitely doesn't bode well for my survival," she muttered.
He lost the battle against his grin. He smiled so hard and wide his face hurt. "So you're staying."
"If you remember—"
"You'll chop me up and feed me to the pigs."
"If you're lucky."
"Right."
"Then yes. I guess I'm staying."
He hummed an acknowledgment as though the news only barely interested him. But he twined his fingers through hers and squeezed.
~Bella~
How strange to be part of a family again.
Then again, even if the world had stayed the way it was, Bella figured she was always going to feel just a little out of sorts as part of a family group that wasn't her own. There was not much familiar about the way the Cullens interacted. Bella's own family—scattered and small—had never really functioned this way. There were no big, noisy gatherings. Charlie had preferred quiet and Renee had been too scattered to organize anything for holidays or birthdays. Bella, like her father, was okay being a solitary creature.
The Cullens, on the other hand, never missed a chance to spend time with each other. When they went into town, Edward would always drop in on his parents and his brother. There was always a meal to be shared. Holidays and birthdays were big celebrations filled with too much food and a huge helping of craziness.
Like right now.
Emmett had brought out a metric ton of condiments—the equivalent of the drawer everyone had in college with spare ketchup, hot sauce, and the miscellaneous packets that accumulated on a mainly fast food diet. He and Edward were engaged in a heated discussion about whether or not they were okay to eat.
"These things will still be edible when the human race actually has been wiped off the face of the planet," Emmett said, waving a packet in Edward's face. "They're like 99% chemical."
"Then why would I want to eat it?"
"You did before." He picked up a little tub. "Look. McDonald's barbeque sauce. You know you miss McDonald's barbeque."
Edward wrinkled his nose. "I've actually had McDonald's barbeque sauce that's been in the drawer for a few months and it was nasty."
"Ah, but that was before, when our tongues were used to a bunch of flavors. I bet it'll taste amazing now."
Bella rolled her eyes, hiding a smile behind her hand.
It was a good family.
Bella's attention shifted when someone sat beside her. She straightened up a little when she saw it was Carlisle. Though his manner was gentle and welcoming, he still gave the air of someone who was firmly in charge. Logical or not, she still got the sense she was in his space, his island, his community.
"I wanted to tell you I'm glad you've decided to stay," he said. As always, he spoke with total sincerity. Not even her subconscious could doubt him. "I appreciate what a difficult decision it was in your position."
Bella considered. She liked Carlisle. He was philosophical, and one of those people who could enjoy discussions without taking much personally. "It was and it wasn't. I had to remember that the society I was born into wasn't safe. Not for a woman, and not for a lot of people.
"When we were little, in school, they always talked about world peace like it's something that was possible." She shook her head. "Call me a cynic if you want, but I don't think it is possible. This earth always had enough for everyone. Even before, when there were too many of us, there was enough to go around. Yet we still invented things like money and decided that people would live and die based on how much they had."
"We don't have anything like that here," Carlisle pointed out. "No one here is required to do anything to get what they need here. Shelter. Food. Medical care. It's available to all, no questions asked."
Bella nodded. "It was one of the things that made it easy to say yes to staying. You never treated me like a burden. I took valuable resources, and I haven't contributed much more than a bag or two of veggies to this little society. We should want to take care of each other.
"But the rest of the world still exists. You try so hard to be good, to do good. I believe you have our best interests at heart—all the council does. But you've made deals with people who take their power by force and violence. Of course, I understand why you did. It's inevitable. We can't keep the rest of the world out. We need allies, because there will come a time when someone will come to take what we have by force. Because people are people, and there will always be those who crave power."
Bella shook her head hard. "Sorry. That's too heavy for this." She gestured around them. They were gathered to celebrate Esme's birthday, for heaven's sake. "I'm trying to say, whatever happens, however this world decides to turn next, I want to be here for all of you, with you. And actually, I've been thinking about that. Where I'd be most useful, because I do want to contribute, even if you're not going to take away my food and shelter if I don't."
Carlisle tilted his head. "Edward told me about the gardens."
"Yeah, that's a project I want to work on, but I was wondering…" She wrung her hands, nervous for some reason she couldn't explain. "Well. It's not like there are medical schools anymore, right? I've been heavy into the old school medicine lately—plant-based medicine. But I was wondering what you'd think about an apprenticeship?"
His eyebrows shot up. "You want to be a doctor?"
"I want to help. There aren't enough of you on the island as it is, and if the future goes down bloody—like it has the rest of human history…" She shrugged. "Either way, having someone else around to ease even a little of the burden wouldn't be a bad thing, right?"
"Especially because the islands are spread out. It's taken too much time for one of us to get from the tip of one island to the tip of the other, depending on where people are." Carlisle stroked his chin and smiled at her. "There's no reason it couldn't work. Start with the more basic procedures—broken bones, that kind of thing." He nodded as if to himself. "It's a great idea."
"Grappa!" Almost two-year-old Aaron barreled into Carlisle's legs then and started tugging at his pants, trying to pull himself up.
Bella stood, ruffling the boy's hair as she gave them space to play.
There was so much beauty left in this world.
"Hey." Edward came up beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Everything okay?"
Rather than answer, Bella turned to face him. She cupped his cheek and let the love she felt for him settle into the depths of her being. Tugging gently, she kissed him.
"Everything is good."
~The End~
A/N: I know we still have questions about Alice, but that's the nature of this world. I do want to write a future shot about Alice, but I have a few things to decide before I can do that.
For now, I draw this fic to a close.
So many thanks to my incomparable team: Betsy, Packy, Eleanor, MoH, and my newest prereader May. You are invaluable to me.
And to my readers. Thank you so much for sticking with me. While the last couple of years has been far and away the best in my life—I love being Jaina's mom, guys, I really do—I've struggled with the impact on my writing. Writing is part of my soul, and I'll never forget that. Thanks for still being here.