A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts!
This is the last regular chapter. The Epilogue will post next. :)
Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest, including all mistakes, are mine.
Chapter 46 – Lázaro
EDWARD
"…shot while on an undercover op…lost a massive amount of blood…paramedics said his heart stopped twice before they were able to get him into surgery..."
"…lucky to be alive…think he'll make it…"
"…touch and go…surgeons had to practically pry the girl off him…"
OOOOO
"Edward…Edward, I'm back…doctors needed to examine you…sometimes they let me stay, sometimes, no matter how much I beg…make me step out…already warned them I'm not leaving…love you…"
OOOOO
"…Bella has warned us not to upset you…talk…more detail when you wake up, buddy…don't worry about her safety…threat to her is gone, Ed, and by gone, I mean the fuckers are dead…want to be clear on that point…know that won't upset you…we're keeping her company…you just take it easy and get better soon…"
OOOOO
"…Agent Brandon…Alice is being released…know you and she are close…you'll be glad to hear it…Agent Cullen- Edward…never mind this Agent this and Agent that business…seeing you and Alice hurt…and Alice…I understand how Bella feels…life is unpredictable…told her I loved her...not Bella, no, Edward, relax…told Alice I loved her…could've lost her…she would've never known…never heard me say…she and I are figuring it out…life's too short for mixed-up priorities…"
OOOOO
"…healing well…wait 'til you see my scar…not as badass as yours…Director Haywood…commendations to all of us…Emmett, you, and me needed to do was get shot…kidding…in the end, she didn't need any of us to be her heroes…but she needs you…
OOOOO
"…told the surgeon I didn't want to end up looking different…you might not recognize me when you wake…joking…Emmett said the surgery would minimize the scarring not give me a facelift…they're all clowns…sometimes I can't help laughing…otherwise all I'd do is…never mind…you're going to be so well-rested for that beach…never surfed, but I'd love to learn…know you're going to want to stretch your muscles after such a long rest…then we can just lay on the warm sand and…love you…miss you so…"
OOOOO
"…worked things out with Counselor Cope...extenuating circumstances…some convincing but she understands…told Judge Castro how you and she worked out the covert op…made it seem like you broke into her office in case Garrett had someone on the inside…one less thing for you to worry about when you wake up, little brother…I know what you'd say…only two minutes younger…sorry, Edward…so sorry I never…I thought…throwing everything away for her…years of undercover…but Bella loves you so much…get better for her if for no one…"
OOOOO
"…went to court today with Jasper…my statement…putting it off for weeks…subpoena…judge had it…threatened to withdraw the immunity agreement…saw Jacob…all behind us…missed you…love you…"
OOOOO
"…can't stay too long…shouldn't be here…goddaughter tells me you spoke of Oshun…of Chango…she didn't understand that she personified her…and I owed her and her mother for my sins…I felt your request…invoked him on your behalf, his strength for you…now, I invoke San Lázaro, Babaluaiye, orisha of the injured…"
OOOOO
"Here, Mike, hold him up while I get this corner tucked in properly so we can change the rest of his sheets before she returns."
"She's never gone for long, is she, Jen?"
"Can you blame her? You've heard bits and pieces of their story, haven't you?"
"Yeah. Some crazy shit right there how those two survived. Don't you worry, Romeo. Jen and I won't jostle you too much; we just need to change these sheets and check those bandages. There we go, buddy. Hey, these are looking better, ain't they, Jen?"
"They are, Mike, and his vitals have been improving too. Juliet will be happy to speak with the doctors today."
"Yeah, Juliet sure watches over her Romeo like a hawk, don't she?"
"Aw, Mike, she's a sweet thing. Keeps him and this room spotless and tries her best to stay out of the way. Here, hold his head up while I change the pillowcase."
"Alright, good-looking, we'll be done quick. He's not hard to look at, Romeo here, is he? Beard and all. Looking healthier too. Got some more color in his face. You know what, Jen? Maybe I'll wake Romeo here with one of those true love's kiss thing-a-ma-jigs, just like in the movie, and steal him right out from under Juliet's nose."
"Mike, there's so much wrong with what you just said, I don't even know where to start, but how about with you'd better stop joking around like that before you get yourself in trouble? And you're mixing up fairy-tales with Shakespeare and movies with plays. Dumbass."
"You should've seen your face right now, Jen! Oh, my God, that was priceless. I can't stop laughing! You didn't really think I'd do it, did you? I was just kidding – sort of."
"Mhm. Whatever. And he's looking healthier because of all the love and care his Juliet gives him; keeps his mind and his heart engaged, reminds him there's a world to return to. Hey, you know Juliet is…"
"Get out of here! How do you know that? Wait, is that true, or are you just trying to make me jealous, Jen?"
"Shh! Keep your voice down, Mike! She'll be back at any moment! You know she doesn't dawdle when she's forced to leave his side. And now, why would I make that up just to make you jealous? Brought her some ginger tea myself this morning."
"Well, there go all my wayward fantasies up in smoke. Oh well. Aw, bless our sweet Romeo and Juliet. Let's not even talk about that around him in case he can hear, 'specially since the doctors stopped administering them sedatives. All joking aside, Jen, you think Romeo here will ever wake-"
"What the hell is that infernal noise?"
The sound is irritating the hell out of me. It's a familiar, continuous beep, but I can't seem to place it or to even account for how long I've heard its maddening, chirp-like sound. It might be ten seconds; it might be ten years. I have no clue, and all of it exacerbates my irritation.
What's more, though I felt myself ask the question, felt my mouth awkwardly make the series of vocal movements required to form the words, I'm beginning to wonder whether I really spoke aloud after all. For one, the voice that erupted sounded not just muffled but gritty and gruff, the voice of an ornery old man whose vocal cords are on their last legs. For another, seconds pass, and I receive no reply. So, perhaps, I only spoke in my mind.
Groaning impatiently, my eyelids flutter…flutter…and finally manage to open.
A solar eclipse greets my efforts and singes my irises into ashes. At least, that's what it feels like. Grunting in both pain and additional indignation, I pinch my eyes shut, then try to reopen them once again, though much more slowly and warily this time. The glare is headache-inducing but not blinding. Finally able to keep my eyes open against the extreme brightness, I take in my surroundings.
Straight ahead and to my left is the New York City skyline. The skyline is framed by rays of light that stream in from two eastward-facing, perpendicular-meeting floor-to-ceiling windows. They're what bathe the room in its blazing clarity. There's a sliver of wall between both windows, and a flat-screen TV hung on the wall. Sparse though functional furnishings are laid out around the room – a couple of small tables and chairs and a convertible futon. Flowering vases rest on various ledges. On one of the chairs, a blue sweater is thrown across the backrest.
A man and a woman – nurses, by the look of their uniforms – flank me, staring through wide eyes and with mouths agape. Pulling off the plastic mask nestled over my nose and mouth, I try once more to make myself heard.
"Please, for the love of all, turn off that beeping and go get Bella."
The requests pop out in that same brusque, gravelly voice, so I suppose it is me after all. Unfortunately, I receive no reply to these requests either. Instead, the nurses' gaping continues, and the heart monitor's beeping – yes; yes, that's what the aggravating sound is – intensifies.
"Where's Bella?"
The male nurse shuts his mouth and reopens it. But when he speaks, it's still not a reply to my question.
"Holy shit. Holy…"
"Mike, go get a doctor."
The female nurse sounds more in control. She speaks in a steadier and even tone, though her gaze remains frenzied and on me.
"Mike…go…get…a…doctor."
"Where's Bella?"
An image from the past – years, weeks, days ago? – flits through my mind…
Bella and I are back in my bedroom. Her head rests on my lap, and she's in shorts and a tank top but wrapped in a blue sweater, snuggled against me while laughing at something on TV. I'm somewhat distracted, with one hand scanning through paperwork for the case and running the other through her hair. But when I inhale, when I smell the sweet, unique scent that wafts off her, I set down my paperwork…
"That's her sweater, isn't it? That's her blue sweater. And that's her scent coming from the futon."
"Mike, get a doctor!"
"WHERE'S BELLA!"
The female nurse springs into action and lunges, smacking down a button behind me.
"We need a doctor in Agent Cullen's room! Stat! He's awake!"
She then bolts to the door and runs from the room, yelling as she goes. "He's awake! He's awake!"
The action seems to rouse Mike from his stupor. He approaches my bedside. "It's okay, Agent Cullen. The doctor will be here in a sec. It's okay."
"I don't want a damn doctor! I want Bella! Where's Bella?"
When I attempt to stand, my limbs twitch but go nowhere. So when Mike carefully yet firmly pins my shoulders to the bed – a hospital bed, I realize – the unnecessary restraint serves to infuriate me further.
"Get off of me!"
"It's okay, Agent Cullen. Everything's going to be just fine."
"Where's Bella? Where is she?"
The beeping escalates and climbs, and the blood pressure monitor joins in the melee. My fucking headache grows. I know what's happening. I'm a doctor; of course, I know. So I try to draw in a series of deep, cleansing breaths to calm myself and stave off the impending explosion. But inhaling simply sharpens her scent. It overwhelms my senses, and-
"Jesus, where is she? Bella!"
Meanwhile, Mike continues his empty attempts to pacify me. When the door finally tears open, my breath hitches in anticipation.
But it's not Bella. Instead of her beautiful face, I'm treated to the sight of an unknown woman – apparently the doctor – rushing in. Emmett scrambles in behind her, and while a vague part of me is gladdened to see him, he's not the one I want right now.
"Where's Bella?" I demand.
"Holy crap, Edward. You're awake," Emmett exclaims in disbelief.
Groaning, I drop my head against my pillow, exhausted, outraged, and…terrified.
Where is she? She would've never given up on me; that's irrefutable. The woman who I've been in love with for…for…I'm not sure for how long, wouldn't give up on me. So then, in the space of a few heartbeats, that fact naturally begs the next question:
Did she exist?
Was such a perfect woman, one who stimulated me on every possible level in which a person can be stimulated, a reality? Or did I conjure her in some drug-induced dream where she was a thief sent to steal my heart along with everything else? After all, I've awoken in a hospital, and everyone is looking at me as if Lazarus has risen from the dead. Jesus, I've even got images in my head of her dressed in a catsuit.
Bile rises to my throat.
An additional team of people rushes into the room, some vaguely familiar, some unknown. Yet, all their faces display similar expressions of shock, excitement, and joy.
"Edward!" The woman who sprints to my side slips her warm arms around me and chokes on a sob. "Baby."
"Mom." Despite everything, I feel a smile lift the corners of my mouth. "Mom."
My father bounds to my other side and wraps his arms around us both. "Edward…son."
"Hey, Dad."
"Agent Cullen, I'm Doctor Martin. We're all…extremely pleased to see you awake. You're in the hospital wing of FBI headquarters. Do you know why you're here, Agent Cullen?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I know." At least, I think I do. "Where's-"
"Esme, let's let the doctor do her job," my dad murmurs.
Both he and Mom slowly pull back, though I can tell Dad has to coax her. Mom nods and offers me a watery smile. Once they move away, Doctor Martin takes my mom's place, leaning over me to shine a light in my eyes. I squeeze them shut and turn my face away.
"Where's Bella?"
"How do you feel, Agent Cullen? Would you like me to replace your oxygen mask?"
"No, no oxygen mask! Enough lights and monitors," I hiss, breathing hard. "All I want to know is-"
"Yes, yes. Where's Bella?" Doctor Martin says, offering me an indulgent smile. Yet, she continues her examination while the rest of the room remains silent.
"She didn't exist, did she? I made her up in my…in my mind…" – my voice breaks – "along with her parents and our conversation by the dock in the rain and-"
Doctor Martin pulls back. "Agent Cullen…Edward…of course, she exists."
"Bella?"
The doctor's indulgent smile remains in place. "Yes, Agent Cullen, Bella – Miss Isabella Swan – exists."
"Edward, honey, of course, Bella exists," my mom says, gazing at me lovingly.
"Ed, buddy, you're not that crazy yet. Though what is this about Bella's parents and rain?"
"He'll be somewhat confused for a while, for days, possibly even weeks, but…"
She resumes her examination while everyone seems to hold their collective breaths. In a daze, I answer the doctor's questions. Once again, resting my head against the pillowed backrest, I exhale a long breath through narrowed lips, and I hear the monitor's beeps revert to something resembling normal.
She wasn't a dream or a figment of my imagination. She happened.
We happened.
"…his attention span may vary…"
Relief makes me heady, even dizzier, flooding into every extremity, into every nook and cranny.
"…might be short-tempered…"
But where is she then?
Emmett abruptly snorts. "She's definitely going to flip when she finds out he was alone when he woke. I'm sorry, Mrs. Cullen, but I'd hide if I were you."
"I was gone for three minutes," my mom insists. "I just walked down the hall to get some coffee."
"And I was speaking with one of the doctors," my dad contributes.
Finally, the doctor sets down her instruments and smiles. "All his vitals are at acceptable levels. It'll be a long road, but we're on the right track."
Everyone in the room sighs collectively.
"How long?" I ask.
"A few months, I'd say at least six to eight. You'll need physical therapy, a few more rounds of antibiotics, and even once you're released, it'll be a while before you can exert-"
"No. Doctor, I've answered your questions, now please answer mine." My tone is admittedly curt, but I can't seem to control my emotions. "Where is Bella, and how long have I been here like this?"
An eerie silence fills the room, one where the monitors play the part of the proverbial crickets. The doctor's expression of cautious optimism morphs into a mask of inscrutability, one which I, as a surgeon myself, recognize.
"Let's begin with the answer to your second question."
"Why? What the hell is everyone trying to hide from-"
"Agent Cullen, you were in a medically-induced coma for ten weeks."
That stupefies me enough to delay the completion of my tirade.
"Ten weeks?" Blinking successively, I attempt to wrap my mind around that statement, but though I'll never admit it, it's as the doctor predicted. My mental capacity is woefully lacking, clouded by a haze of confusion, and now staggered by the doctor's pronouncement.
"Ten weeks," I breathe shakily. "How? Why?"
"Agent Cullen, you went into cardiac arrest twice before the medevac carrying you arrived here at our hospital wing. We had a team of surgeons waiting, but you were in a class four hemorrhage which necessitated an immediate blood transfusion."
"Class four…that's loss of over forty percent of circulating blood volume – the body's limit."
The doctor nods.
"I'm O negative. Who donated that much-"
"Your sister, honey," my mom says. "Rosie."
I swallow thickly, unable to speak, except…that doesn't necessarily mean I'm surprised. We've clashed in adulthood, but she's my sister – my twin. I'm shocked into temporary muteness, but no, I'm not surprised.
"We then operated and removed your damaged spleen, but the loss of oxygen which had already occurred sent your neuro-system into overdrive, and so we induced a coma to allow your neuro-function to recover without additional stress."
"So, I've been in a coma for the past ten weeks?" Perhaps stupidly, I ask the question once more, though the clarification is necessary as it turns out.
"No, Agent Cullen. The coma was reversed two weeks ago. You've been simply sleeping ever since."
"Are you telling me I left her alone…that I've been away from her…from Bella for three months?"
My voice shakes, and my chest heaves. Doctor Martin's inscrutable mask momentarily slips, and she offers me a sympathetic nod.
"Yes, Agent Cullen."
"Though, she hasn't been alone, buddy," Emmett adds with a wistful smile. "Don't worry about that."
Sweeping my eyes away from everyone's pitying gaze, I instead glare straight ahead, forcing myself to feel the pain of the sunlight streaming in. Regardless of Emmett's assurances, I left her alone for three months. It's all I can think of, all I can register, and the guilt of it is…staggering.
"Will someone please lower the blinds and turn off the damn beeping?"
Doctor Martin nods, and Mike lowers the blinds while Nurse Jen lowers the volume on all the machines hooked up to me.
"Agent Cullen, you're beyond lucky to be alive. In fact, it's nothing short of a miracle. Most people wouldn't have survived the trauma your body went through, much less come through it with all signs of an eventual full recovery. Were I the type to believe in such things, I'd say you had angels out there watching over you. All that said, it's absolutely normal to feel a bit out of sorts for a while."
"May I please speak to Emmett alone?"
"Of course, though, we will have to perform some more examinations in a short while. I'm afraid there will be some more pricking and poking going on for the next few days."
Grimacing, I merely nod. My mom approaches and pats my leg, squeezing it until I offer her a weak smile, reassurance that she's actually seen me awake.
"Sweetheart, we'll be right outside when you're ready for us."
The look of overflowing relief comingled with motherly love and concern makes my chest ache. While undercover, I rarely saw my parents. Now, my mom takes my dad's hand and leads him out, holding my gaze over her shoulder the entire way.
The doctor and nurses follow. Emmett swallows thickly and stares at me for a few seconds, much like my mom appearing not to trust his eyes, before he slowly ambles over. He offers me a one-armed hug, his eyes red-rimmed when he pulls back and takes a seat in the chair beside me.
"Glad to see you're okay, Em."
"Ed, you're glad to see I'm okay? Man, for a while there…" He clears his throat. "Anyway, yeah, the cast will come off in a couple of weeks, and I'll be good as new."
"And Alice?"
"Alice," he breathes, smiling. "She recovered well after her surgery, but she's had to take a few months off for physical therapy. She visits you often, as does Whitlock. Seems she and our Assistant Director," he stresses with teasing mockery, "are an official item, which means that though she can't work under him anymore, she's under him more than ever if you know what I mean." He wriggles his brows, and I roll my eyes.
"There's the Emmett I know."
This makes him chuckle heartily. "Enough of this serious bullshit."
"Emmett, what happened with Garrett? With the case?"
Despite his joking from a few seconds earlier, he sobers instantly. Drawing his chair closer to my bed, he inhales and exhales heavily.
"Ed, what do you remember?"
"I remember the warehouse and Garrett shooting me. I remember Bella tricking him, then having to trick her into leaving me, into making the jump to the next building. I remember going after Garrett because I knew he'd never stop looking for her, and therefore, I couldn't allow him to live. I remember…I remember Bella came back and…and she shot him, then…then I remember sitting at a dock and the rain…the warm rain…"
'Tell her we love her…'
'Tell her we're okay now…'
Emmett's brow furrows. "Hm, I don't know about that dock and rain you keep mentioning, but yeah, the rest is about right. Bella escaped, got her hands on a cell phone, and called us, and though I, personally, told her to stay put," he smirks, "she went back for you. Shot a bullet straight into Garrett's brain."
He squints an eye and, making a gun out of his hand, pretends to shoot, with sound effects and all. Then, he sighs.
"Forensics said it was a one in a million shot. Had she missed, the entire warehouse would've been blown sky-high. But…Detective Swan taught his daughter how to aim, and when she had to…" His tone takes on a wistful note. "Man, I wish I would've gotten there in time to see that. Anyway, by the time the paramedics and I arrived, you'd stopped breathing. The medics set to work on you right away, but…"
Trailing off, he swallows and sweeps his eyes away as if he can't quite hold my gaze for the rest.
"Ed, you have to understand, you had no pulse, no heartbeat. But Bella…Bella refused to let you go. When the medics turned off the defibrillator, she shouted at them to go again, insisting you weren't…that you were still…" He rakes a hand roughly through his hair. "Rose and I…we thought she just couldn't accept…she was crying uncontrollably-"
"Crying?"
"Yeah, crying."
"Actual tears?"
"Yeah, actual tears. What else would she be crying?"
'It's raining…'
'Her tears…they're soul-cleansing…'
'Anyway, Bella refused to give up even when the rest of us did. And Jesus, had we not listened to her." Dropping his head, he shakes it from side to side. "She shouted and demanded and begged, and the medics shocked you once again, though honestly, it was just to shut her up at that point so that she could see…"
His head shoots up, and he grins, the corners of his eyes wet. "We're the ones who saw. Your heart started up again. They air-lifted you over here and then had to literally pry Bella off to take care of you and to take care of her too."
"How badly was she hurt?"
"A couple of cracked ribs that have healed, a fairly deep laceration to her right cheek. Your dad got a great plastic surgeon, though, to work on her scar. You can barely even see it now. She got a piece of glass lodged in her right heel, but that's healed as well. Her ankle…the doctors have told her she can't make those crazy-ass jumps anymore or she'll end up with a permanent limp."
My head spins, and I'm forced to rest it against the backrest yet again, to shut my eyes and swallow hard to keep the vomit from expelling itself.
"So many injuries, and no more of her jumps…"
After a few seconds of allowing me to wallow, Emmett speaks up.
"Ed, buddy, but did you hear me? Really hear me? She got lucky. You got so lucky. I mean, you don't even know..."
"What?"
He shakes his head. "Anyway, post-surgery, you were put here in the FBI's hospital wing. They were going to send Bella somewhere else, but Rosalie got right on that."
"Rosalie?" I frown. "My sister?"
"Yeah," he nods. "Your sister. Thing is...no one who saw Bella with you at that warehouse, no one who saw that could ever doubt how much you need her...and vice versa. Anyway, once your parents were informed of what happened, and they met her, she stole their hearts."
"Yeah, I know what that's like," I murmur, rubbing at my chest.
Emmett snorts. "With all the defendants dead, with the flash drive Charlie made, and you found, with most of the evidence – minus the bracelet – back in the ADA's possession, with our testimonies, and with Counselor Cope's assurance that you and she were working a covert op when you broke into her office," he smirks, "there was no reason to keep the case open any longer."
"Emmett…how has Bella really been?"
He sighs and offers me a hollow grin. "We've kept her company, but she's been…lonely, Edward. You've had a rough few months, and for a while there, it was touch and go. Even after they took you off the sedatives and reversed the coma a couple of weeks ago, they still couldn't guarantee that you'd wake up or that if you did, you'd be…well. So, Bella only leaves your side when she has to, like a few weeks ago when the judge lost her patience and insisted Bella appear and give her testimony. And like…today."
Tentative susurrations of relief whisper in my ear, unable to take hold any louder. My mind believes everything Emmett has imparted; it understands the truth of his words. But none of it penetrates the lingering confusion and haziness enough to sink in. It won't, not until I…
"Em, why won't anyone tell me where she is? My mind isn't working at a hundred percent yet, no, but it's not slow enough for me to fail to notice when everyone changes the subject."
He nods slowly, a peculiar ghost of a smile lifting one corner of his mouth, and when he does finally open his mouth, he stops. Then, as he pulls his cell phone from his back pocket, the ghost of a smile sprouts into a full-fledged grin.
"Well, Ed," he breathes. "That question isn't mine to answer. It's not for any of us to answer, except for…"
The sensation is like that warmth streaming in from the windows except a thousand times stronger, and I already know she's nearby.
A shriek erupts from beyond the room, and my heart barely has time to jump, my heart to pick up its pace, to send the monitor into a frenzy once again because she's fast. She's so damn fast.
And then, she's in my arms. Or I'm in hers.
There's no hesitancy, no caution, no restraint, reserve, or apprehension. And for a second, I think I have died and gone to heaven because Bella's entire frame is wrapped around mine, her scent consumes me, her heat engulfs me, and her tears…her tears on my cheek and my mouth are the sweetest, most joyful tears I could've ever imagined. And I know I've felt their life-giving power before.
"Edward…Edward…"
She squeezes me tighter, and my sore muscles ache and sing all at once. In turn, I hold her against my chest as securely as I can. And it's awkward because of all the goddamned tubes and the bed rails, but it's the most potent embrace I've ever received. It's the embrace that kept me alive.
"Edward, you're awake…you're awake…"
"I'm here, Bella. I'm here, my love."
I grab her face and meet her eyes - glassy, shiny with both shed and unshed tears, and as I drink her in, regardless of the confusion still crowding my mind, there is one irrefutable truth I'll never doubt:
Those taupe eyes stole my heart at first sight.
With a series of uneven sighs, she allows my eyes to roam her face, including the small scar, before I pull her mouth to mine. Her lips are as soft and sweet as I remember, though, to me, it was only yesterday that I last kissed them. That kiss was rough, urgent, and tainted by the pain of believing it a final kiss, a goodbye.
This kiss feels like a beginning. My lips mold to hers as I breathe in her life and her vitality and silently wish there was a way to meld her soul to mine.
"You're crying," I smile as we pull back for air. Amazed by the sight, I reach out and touch a teardrop.
Bella chuckles. "They're happy tears, Edward."
"They're life-giving rain."
Again, she chuckles, though this one contains a tinge of bemusement.
"I'll explain, but not right now."
"Edward, I missed you so much."
"Bella…I'm so sorry I was sleeping for so long."
"It's okay. You came back. You came back to me, and that's all that matters."
"Of course, I came back to you. I promised you forever, didn't I?"
She nods, those silent tears still streaming. "You remember."
"I remember everything, Bella. It might all be jumbled in here." The tip of my index finger bounces off my temple. "The exact order of events and their relation to one another might be somewhat hazy, but at the crux of every thought in my head…at the end of every road is the woman who stole my heart and the promises I made her."
"I love you," she replies simply.
"I've been wondering if you were ever going to say that again or if it was just something you say when I'm dying."
Here, she throws back her head and laughs. "I'll forgive you for that because you did almost die." The humor dissipates, and she brushes her lips against mine. "You love me too."
"I do love you. I adore you. I'd give my life-"
"Shh." She rests her palm lightly over my mouth and shakes her head. "I know you would, but don't say it."
"I'm sorry," I smile ruefully. "I seem to have no filter since I awoke."
"I've noticed," she smiles back.
"Bella, you stayed with me." I skim her lips with a fingertip, and when she kisses it lightly, I'm flooded by warmth. "You were here with me all along."
Bella rests a hand gently over my quickly-beating heart. "I had to stay to make sure this kept beating."
I wrap my hand over hers. "Where were you when I awoke?"
It's not an accusation. Its blunt curiosity compounded by a mouth I can't seem to curb and by instincts still in effect despite the fog of months-long slumber. Things are being kept from me. Whatever it is isn't related to her safety; Emmett has assured me of that, and I believe him. It's not related to my health; Doctor Martin has assured me I'm on the road to recovery, and my belief in that stems from my own medical knowledge and the strength I already feel increasing slowly but surely.
Yet, there's something…
All the while, Bella gazes at me through eyes brimming with more than tears, with an emotion barely able to be contained.
Or perhaps Doctor Martin is correct, and I am just fucking confused.
When she takes my hand and weaves her fingers through mine, I have no clue what to expect.
"Maybe I should wait to tell you, but…no, no, I won't wait. Edward, do you remember everything? Even with your memories currently jumbled, do you remember…" She rests her forehead on mine and simultaneously takes our joined hands, placing them under her shirt and on her stomach…on her somewhat rounded stomach.
Every fine hair on my body stands on end. As quickly as my heart just raced, it now comes to a sudden standstill. I hold my breath tentatively as she continues.
"Do you remember our love, Edward?" Bella whispers, shutting her eyes. "How we expressed it even before we said the words? With no barriers, no hesitation, and despite all our fears, completely open to all the possibilities-"
"Goddess of femininity…fertility, beauty, and love."
Her eyes pop open.
"Are you okay? I mean, after everything that happened that night, is he…or she…?"
"Shh. That night didn't affect it at all, so don't worry about that. That's where I was today, Edward. The FBI hospital wing doesn't employ an obstetrician."
"You only leave my side when you have to."
"Yeah," she smiles. "We've been so lucky, Edward."
"Sometimes, the willingness to sacrifice is sacrifice enough."
"What?"
"A sage…and beautiful woman, so much like you, told me that. And I'll tell you all about her if you climb up here."
She searches my eyes and nods once before carefully climbing over the bed rails. When she lowers her body beside mine and cautiously rests her head on my chest, we both sigh.
As crazy as it seems, just like in that hotel room in Hawaii, so long ago, we're exactly where we were always meant to be.
This time, the heart monitor beeps off the god-damned charts.
Nurses then doctors come and go. They berate. They plead. Then, they leave.
None of it matters. All that matters is in my arms once again and flourishing between us. The rest, as I vaguely recall someone telling me at some point, we'll figure out.
So, when I fall asleep again, invigorated yet still recovering, it's with Bella's head on my chest, with her life-giving tears warming me, with our hearts beating in sync...and with our love manifested between us.
And when I dream, it's of a beach…of sun…of a taupe-eyed child…and of the beautiful thief who stole my heart.
A/N: Thoughts?
Epilogue coming up next.
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*An aside for the benefit of the GR who seems to think I don't know what I'm writing about when I write about Santeria:
Actually, let me rephrase that: For the GR who doesn't seem to know what Santeria is in the first place but decided to insult me quick-fast:
As I've mentioned before in this story, Santeria is an Afro-Cuban religion that originated in Cuba with roots in African religions and Christianity. During the slave trade, African slaves – in this case, specifically the Yoruba people of West Africa – were kidnapped into the Americas then forbidden from practicing their religions. They therefore had to resort to "hiding" their beliefs within those beliefs they were allowed to practice. What resulted was a diasporic religion where African deities or orishas took the names of Christian counterparts so that the slaves could "safely" continue their traditions. Over the years, this evolved into the Santeria religion, a synchronization practiced heavily in Cuba and then brought to the mainland where it is still practiced in those areas where there's a significant Cuban population (such as Miami, Florida, and parts of New Jersey).
GR, I learned all this and more years ago, both through Cuban-American family I have in Miami and through a college elective entitled 'Religions of the Caribbean,' which was taught by none other than a Santeria priest, a Babalawo. Therefore, no, I'm not an idiot when it comes to this subject, and I'm actually shocked that YOU seem to not know of its existence. Next time, instead of coming at me with them insults rolling, how about you pull up a google search first, and then if you still have questions on my research and knowledge, reach out with something called RESPECT?
Finally, after insulting my story AND me over the previous update, I bet you're still reading. ;)
See ya!
To the rest of you, have a great weekend! :)