A/N for 2019-11-17: This comes to you several hours and a week later than planned. Many thanks to Eeyorefan12 for her faithful beta work.
~ Erin
Josh was very sensitive to light. Its presence in the evening made summer bedtimes later, and its early arrival in the morning made his mornings earlier. He still napped, and this was good, Edward mused, as it could stretch to fill the deficit of sleep that seemed to expand and contract with the seasons.
This was one of those early mornings, and he and Josh sat at the table in Esme's immaculate kitchen. Josh's mind was busy, presenting Edward with questions and declarations mostly in the form of images, but with some errant words in the ruffled wake of his thoughts. Meredith and Bella were both still asleep, though Bella would wake soon briefly, and then—Edward hoped—return to sleep. Her pregnancy was just shy of eighteen weeks. The tests he wanted to run couldn't be done for a few more weeks, and he hoped the results would disprove his fears for her well-being.
Josh's thoughts pressed repeatedly, and he looked at Edward over his cereal. "Man?" he asked.
"I'm listening," Edward said.
Josh showed him Bella on the ground at Charlie's house from a few days before, and then a startlingly strong image of Matt, as he'd been laid out at the funeral home. Then one of Bubbles, as she'd laid still on a faded blue towel. They were the same images he'd shown Edward when Bella had collapsed, minus the panicked tone. Then he showed Edward an image of his mother sleeping.
"Yes, it was more like that," Edward agreed.
Josh nodded and went back to his cereal. He'd eaten most of it and was now experimenting with his milky canvas, nudging the floating o-shaped pieces into lines and shapes.
"You made a line," Edward said, smiling at the grin this brought to Josh's face. Reaching over, Edward nudged the pieces into a circle. "Circle."
Josh squished his eyebrows together. "Sir-cull."
"Yes, circle. Good!"
Bouncing from excitement, Josh nearly tipped over the bowl, but Edward caught it.
Josh replayed the action several times, flicking his eyes between the bowl and Edward.
"Yes. I'm very fast," Edward agreed.
"Fast," Josh said, and then without hesitation. "Man, fast."
The excitement Edward felt at this cohesive phrase was twinned with an equally deep concern. Josh was very, very perceptive—at least, with what he wanted to see. Mer's global focus surpassed her brother's, but there was no hiding what he and the rest of the Cullens were with Josh. His observations had already been shaped into very clear concrete conclusions in his little mind.
It wasn't a significant worry yet, but when Josh learned to verbalize more fluently, they would have to watch him carefully. Or, and he cringed internally at the idea, use Josh's Autism as a means to explain away his imaginative descriptions of his family members. The thought was a painful one, but they had to have strategies at the ready. While they worked hard to keep their inhuman capacities from both children, there were inevitable slips, and here Edward chastised himself. He could have let the bowl tip and spill. It was still habit to fix things.
Bella had warned him several times. "Kids need to make mistakes to learn things. Let them learn."
He agreed with her, but it was harder to put this principle into practise.
Edward watched Joshua rearrange his cereal into what his young mind thought passed for a dragon shape. Edward cocked his head while trying to see it, then frowned while making the effort.
Josh caught the expression. "Dwagon," he explained, copying Edward's frown.
Edward lifted his eyebrows in concession and nodded. "Yes, a dragon."
Josh's attention was jumping through his various interests now, and he gave up on trying to make shapes, eating the remainder of his cereal instead. He settled on his preferred topic. "Truck," he said, showing Edward what he thought was covered by the word.
"Jeep," Edward corrected.
Josh pictured Emmett and Rosalie. They regularly took him for short drives up and down the driveway. He liked the jeep best. He was replaying the last ride over in his mind.
"Do you want to go wake up Rose and Emmett?" Edward asked. Josh hadn't figured out that he and his family didn't sleep, yet, and hopefully wouldn't figure that out for a good while.
The coppery curls bounced with his excited nod.
"First, you help clean up, then you can go wake them up," Edward said, just as Josh was about to dash from the table. He pointed his gaze at Josh's cereal bowl.
From a distant corner of the house, Emmett groaned. He and Rose were occupied in a way that Emmett was not eager to end soon.
"Fair warning," Edward murmured to the non-human members of his family.
Josh's little frown was more intense now, and he remembered Bella telling him to clean up too, as he pointed a dissatisfied stare at Edward. The comparison was not flattering.
"Yes, even I make you tidy up." Edward grinned.
Edward mused over the concept of family, considering the way it was being expanded for him. Gently, he ran his fingers through Josh's hair, warranting a quizzical look.
"Your hair reminds me of shiny pennies," he said.
Josh thought of the jar of pennies that Edward kept on his dresser. They were a currency foreign to him and Meredith. They'd played with the contents upon their discovery, making lines and pictures over the carpet of his room.
"Yes, just like those. If you want, I'll show you how to make them shiny later today."
Josh's yes was silent, and Edward smiled, hearing it. "Clean up first, though, okay?"
With the carefulness only a child could employ, Josh walked his sloshing bowl to the sink, leaving a trail of tiny white dribbles behind him.
"Good job," Edward said, when he finally reached the sink.
As soon as the bowl was on the counter, Josh bolted, running for Emmett and Rosalie's room.
After wiping up the mess, Edward turned his attention to making breakfast for Bella. He fried some eggs, plating them, then adding some watermelon wedges. He'd offered Josh the same meal, but had gotten an incredulous head shake in response. Putting the food, a glass of water, cutlery and a cup of herbal tea on a tray, he paused. Then he zipped outside, plucking a spray of roses from one of Esme's plants. He slipped the small buds into an equally small glass of water, and carried the whole assemblage upstairs.
Bella was awake, and smiled at him. When she caught sight of his full hands, the expression dropped from her face.
"You don't like breakfast in bed?" Edward asked, setting the tray onto the bed.
"I do, and I know I said I'd rest, but . . . " she eyed the tray. "Is this your way of telling me I'm not allowed to get out of bed?"
"No," Edward answered, smiling. "I just thought I'd bring you breakfast in bed for a change."
"Oh." She seemed relieved.
His mind replayed the conversation of a few nights before, shortly after their engagement party. On the drive home, he'd managed to keep his concerns to himself, but after the children went to bed, he'd let the full swath of his anxiety break loose.
"They didn't give it much thought after they saw you up and moving around," he'd said to Bella, when she asked again about how Josh and Meredith were handling having seen her so unwell.
"Good," she'd sighed.
They'd had many conversations about the ways in which her children had expressed and coped with their grief for Matt. It was something that often occupied her thoughts—and he didn't need to hear them to know; her emotionally agile face told him just as articulately.
"I, however, am not doing very well with the way your pregnancy is progressing."
He'd been so careful at keeping the line she'd asked him to respect about her health that he wasn't surprised to see her tense, nervously lifting her eyes to meet his.
He had tried softening his words with a hand to her cheek. "I hope you've figured out by now, you are more precious to me than anything or anyone else, my own life included. And you are not doing well with this pregnancy. You've refused all the extra tests that your midwife has offered, and you're not following the rest she's asked you to take. And I am not sure how to convince you that you need it." He'd looked down, jaw clenched as he searched for more words. "Your body is sending you fairly clear signals, and yet you're not convinced by those either—you passed out," he'd added for clarification. "When your body won't listen to the brain's suggestions, it ends the choice and makes you lose consciousness. That and the elevated blood pressure, the varicose veins, the nausea—"
Her cheeks had flamed. He'd suspected that, presented with the list of things she had been able to dismiss as simply the disconnected symptoms of pregnancy, their amalgamation was revealing the denial in which she'd buried herself.
"What do you think it is?" she'd finally asked.
"I'm not sure, but I'd like your permission to find out, or for Carlisle to, or . . . someone."
Her hands had cupped his cheeks, "I'm sorry for making you worry. Thank you for telling me. I think you would probably feel better checking yourself, or having Carlisle check, rather than finding someone else."
He hadn't wanted to overwhelm her with concern, but he wondered now, eyeing the tray between them, if he hadn't overdone things this morning. He truly had meant it purely as a romantic gesture . . . mostly.
"You're really worried that I'm going to become ridiculously overprotective, aren't you?" He could hear it in her heartbeat.
"I don't want to be wrapped in cotton-balls, no."
Edward nodded in acknowledgement, and Bella looked a little relieved, sitting herself up against the headboard, putting the tray on her lap.
Edward lay alongside her, stretching up to kiss her cheek.
"These are pretty," she said, touching the tight red flower buds.
"I thought you'd like something nice to look at."
She chuckled and smiled. "Oh, I already have you here."
"So Mer was right. I'm 'pretty.'"
Bella put her hand to her mouth, snorting. Mer had blithely commented that all the Cullen men seemed to be very pretty. Emmett had had a field day with the remark. He'd quietly ribbed Edward about all the ways in which he was "pretty."
"Is Josh safely occupied?"
"Of course," Edward said, tracing a set of lazy swirls up her arm with his finger.
"Doing what?"
"'Waking up' Rose and Emmett so they can go play in the jeep."
"I'll bet they didn't appreciate that," she said sympathetically.
Edward snorted softly. "Well, Rose is thrilled."
"And Emmett?"
"He'll survive," he answered dryly. Bella smiled knowingly. Surely she suspected there was some sort of 'payback' involved.
"And Meredith is asleep?"
"Soundly," Edward said, reaching her elbow.
Bella set the tray aside, and then wrapped her hands around his face, kissing him. "Excellent."
"This doesn't strike me as being very restful," he murmured against her lips.
"I just woke up. I can nap later," she mumbled back, continuing with the kisses.
He responded carefully, matching her movements, letting her lead him to the places she wanted him to go. His touch was soft and tentative. Almost reluctant.
"What's wrong?" she finally asked.
"Nothing," he said. It was true. He was just being very, very careful. Extra careful.
"Then why, when you were all over me when we first got back together, are you so hesitant now?" she challenged.
He watched her, scraping away at that thin layer of clutter that obscured his one constant intention: to protect her. His worries were more vibrant now with the new developments in her pregnancy.
He spoke gently. "Well, if I'm reading things correctly, I have an idea of where this is going, and I'm always afraid I'm going to hurt you."
A set of wrinkles grew on her forehead. "You've never hurt me."
He lifted his eyebrows, questioning her statement. As far as he was concerned he had—every single time, if the depleting stock of items in the freezer was any indication.
"You can't think of it that way," she said in response to his gesture, propping herself up on her elbow.
"I try not to think of it that way, but I won't deny the physical outcome such pleasant activities produce," he offered, brushing his hand down her cheek.
"Do you still want me this way?" she asked. There was a tremble to her voice, and his chest tightened.
How stupid of him. Of course she'd wonder. That ridiculous insecurity lived on, despite his many reassurances and actions to the contrary.
"Of course I do," he whispered.
"Then show me," she breathed back. There was an edge to it. Yes, that worry was deeply rooted. And if he needed to worship at her feet every day to dislodge it, he would until it was neatly excised and destroyed.
He began at her feet, planting kisses at her heels. "I love you. Every part of you," he murmured, firm presses of his lips marking his progress up her legs, paying special attention to the few spots where long blue veins had become raised lines. Moving upwards again, he paused where her legs joined, lingering there with his lips and tongue. "Though I do enjoy the kind of response I can get from you here."
She twitched and moaned, gasping at the intimate invasion, her hands merely a tickle for him where they fisted his hair. When he blew a loud raspberry on her belly, she burst into laughter.
He nuzzled her breasts first before taking them into his mouth, savouring the way her body writhed beneath him as he sucked and licked.
He didn't break contact, stretching his hand out to reach into the bedside drawer, grabbing a thin foil package. He'd bought them as a precaution, knowing there was very little chance of the venom in his bodily fluids beginning a change, but not wanting to take the risk. The cervix was simply too easy to make bleed at this point in the pregnancy.
Bella opened her legs, moving to wrap them around his back. Oh, the way she wanted him—and the way he wanted her.
"Show me you want me," she whispered as he finished rolled the condom on.
"There is no question," he groaned, lowering himself over her and pushing inside.
She arched her head back, elbows pressed into the bed, closing the gap between them.
Underneath her sounds of pleasure, he could hear one heart-rate dropping. It wasn't anywhere near dangerous, but Bella was beyond the point where she could lie on her back for any prolonged period of time without the vena cava being suppressed.
He rolled onto his back, bringing her to sit on top of him, using his hands at her hips to help move her in a slow slide up and down. There was a pinch in her forehead, and he knew he was pushing too far for her to be comfortable. But if he lifted her up any further, it would rob her of the ability to control any of her own movements.
Sitting up, he pulled out of her, eliciting a displeasured moan. "Can we try a different position? One that you're more comfortable with?"
"Sure," she gasped. "Just . . . now, please."
He kissed her again, pulling them both back down to the bed so that she rested on her left side. It would be an awkward position for a human couple, but he angled his body to match hers, moving gently inside of her.
Bella's hand snaked between his legs, gripping him. The sound in his throat was part moan, part purring growl, increasing with the pressure exerted by the fiery cup of her palm. He reciprocated by swirling his fingers through her fine hair, locating the spot that made her body finally jerk with release. Her hand tightened, and he joined her in the throes of that rippling pleasure.
He disposed of the condom quickly, tossing the tied item into the small metal container that sat high on the room's tall bookshelf. While it was well out of the reach of Josh or Meredith, he would still burn that particular bin of trash later. He then turned his attention back to Bella, who wrapped herself around him again, her legs straddling his thigh. She was warm from exertion, and he loved that this allowed such closeness to his natural chill. It was a small benefit of the pregnancy that she could tolerate the prolonged togetherness.
His gift had taught him that these moments were ones that women often wanted, and that few men offered. As to why not, he could not fathom. Her heartbeat fluttered against him where they were pressed together, and he kept his hands moving over her back and hips, encouraging the regulation of her essential rhythms. Her ear lay against his chest, and he wondered what sounds she heard there—the proverbial sea of her own heart, thumping back against her? Or some sound his body produced that only she could hear?
Her heartbeat should have been slowing, but it wasn't. Instead, he could hear and feel it tripping and skipping in uneven rhythms, and he let his thoughts slip from the contentment they were enjoying to more grisly speculation. Had she heard something he and Jasper had discussed the other night? No, surely not. They'd kept their voices undetectably low. The computers were all password-protected, and the one Bella used was never purposed towards the Cullens' research. It wasn't that he worked to keep things from her, but he didn't want her making any unexpected, or gruesome discoveries and, after their conversation the day of the party, he felt they were on the same page about that.
Bella's leg twitched. Perhaps a bodily need? "Do you need to get up?"
"No."
His fingers continued to stroke her hair, gently teasing apart the tiny knots they found, trying to soothe whatever it was that was troubling his mate.
"Is there something bothering you right now?" he asked.
Her breathing quickened.
His silent 'Yes,' and her audible, "No," were synchronized.
He kept stroking her hair, waiting.
Bella closed her eyes, pulled in a large breath, and then released it, blinking her eyes open and looking at him. "Yes, something is bothering me. It's something I should have told you about well before today."
She rolled over onto her back to grab her phone from the bed-side table, punching in her pass-code and tapping the screen, obviously looking for something. She handed the phone to him silently. Her jaw and breathing appeared equally strained.
He barely had time to wonder at what sort of image or text could cause such anxiety for Bella, when he saw the name and the email.
And the date.
The email was days old.
Instinctively, his body stilled in the manner of the prey he hunted, everything in him poised and ready, determining whether to leap or pivot, flee or fight, as he weighed his choices and their likely effects.
In that moment, he took the barest fraction of a second to give thanks for the adeptness of his supernatural mind, because he needed all its capacity to consider what Bella had just shown him, what it might mean, and more importantly, why she hadn't shown it to him before.
He immediately dismissed any notion of ill-intent. After all they had suffered, and how hard they'd been working, he couldn't believe that she'd intentionally made their jobs harder. No, it was something else. His immediate suspicion was fear, most likely that she was afraid for him, and what he might do with such information.
Her question from moments ago bubbled to the surface. Did she think he would leave her again? He'd told her again and again and again that he wouldn't. And yet . . . she had lost him once before, and then her best friend, and then her husband. And then a man she might have called friend. She'd even her lost her damn cat.
All this thinking was done by the time he'd looked back up at her from the screen. Her face was creased with worry, and she was holding her breath.
"Breathe, Bella," he said, cupping her cheek.
She did, snatching in a hasty lung-full of air.
"I could probably guess at why you didn't tell me about this, but I'd prefer to hear it from you."
She had to take another breath before she could speak. "I have no good reason for keeping this from you, beyond my own selfish one. Until I got this, everything had begun to feel ever-so-slightly normal again, I just didn't want to break that tiny bit of happiness that we've managed to get back. You seemed so . . . relaxed. So at ease with us."
Edward felt his eyes widen. She had been trying to . . . protect him? From stress?
"I was going to tell you, but then the engagement party happened and Sam and Sue and Dad, and this—" She sighed. "I'm sorry. I know I should have told you. I knew it then, I . . . just didn't want to add one more thing to all the things that are going on, and after not telling you, it just got harder to find the time to tell you, and—"
Edward put his hand over hers, trying to stop the quickening pace of her speech. "I understand," he said.
He did understand, but he was still floored by the revelation. She had kept what could have been vital—or, more likely—lethal—information from them because she'd been worried about his reaction and how it would affect their relationship. Of course, the email contained nothing important in and of itself, and it wasn't as if they didn't know that Victoria was keeping tabs on Bella, but still, if they'd known in time, they could have traced the originating IP address and place, and possibly traced that back to a physical clue, or maybe a trail, if they were lucky. It was unlikely in the extreme, but it was still a whisper of a possibility.
And with this last thought, it occurred to him that what was even more likely was Victoria attempting to drive a wedge between them. Yes. So much more likely. If the email had been anything of consequence, if Bella's decision to delay would have changed anything, Alice would have seen something, and she hadn't.
"It's alright, Bella. It doesn't matter," he finally continued. "It's very likely it didn't matter even when it first arrived. She's covered all her other tracks so well, I don't doubt she's covered her electronic ones, too." At least, they'd found no trace of her online, despite a web of programs designed to report on any kind of search they thought she might make.
No, he determined, the email was as red a herring as any.
Bella was biting her lip, watching him with a somewhat dubious expression He supposed she had expected a much different reaction and, to be honest, he was surprising himself with his reasoned response. She was probably waiting for the other shoe to drop and that thought gave him pause. The idea that Bella was afraid of him in any way was unacceptable. He chose his next words carefully.
"I love you," he said. "This was likely nothing to begin with, and her intent was probably only to drive us apart. Or frighten you, or make you worry, which she has obviously done."
Bella nodded, her hand clammy in his cool one. "I'm so sorry, Edward, I really screwed up."
He gave her a rueful smile. "I won't deny I think it was a mistake not to tell me, but mainly because we are going to need all the pieces of the puzzle to solve it. Still, I don't think dealing with a vengeful vampire falls under the umbrella of a normal marriage."
She shook her head. "No, I don't suppose it does."
They both sighed.
He brushed his fingers over her hand. "I will keep you safe, I promise."
It was one of those times when he wished he could hear what she was thinking, but all he knew was that her lips made a wan smile. If it was doubt he was seeing on her face, he could hardly blame her. What had he done to stymie Victoria so far? While his promise might feel weaker for its repetition, it would only truly be weakened by division between him and Bella.
"But I need you to trust me, and to let me protect you as I can. As only one of my kind can."
She watched him for what felt like a long time, finally nodding.
"And how do I protect you?" she asked. "From worrying so much for me?"
This he could answer. "If I have your love and your well-being, I need nothing else."
She laughed, as joyful and care-free a sound as any, clutching the sheet to her chest. "Of course you have my love , and the rest of that thought is so beautiful and . . . hilarious. You, Edward Cullen, are an anachronism. "
"An anachronism?" Was he so out of place in this time?
"Your chivalry is appreciated, but good relationships find their goodness in balance," she said, her wide smile slipping a little. "I messed up on this one, but I can do better. Let me help you, too, through all this mess."
That she desired his happiness as much as he desired her own made his resolve harden even more. He would end the danger that Victoria posed to their life together, one way or another.
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.