A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.

Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. So do all mistakes.

Broken - Chapter 15

Mid-October - One Year After the "Break-Up:"

"And we're back in 5…4…3…"

I cleared my throat and simultaneously ensured the knot on my tie was straight.

"2…1…"

The cameraman signaled, and the TV journalist – what was her name again? Sabrina? Selena? Serena? – crossed her legs and swiveled her chair toward the camera, offering the audience a rapturous smile.

"And welcome back. As some of you might know, the Centers for Disease Control have issued an alert this year ahead of the height of the flu season in this country, stating that the Flu vaccine currently in distribution may not actually offer the protection they'd originally hoped. At this time of year, when many are visiting their doctors to receive the vaccine in the belief that it'll protect them from the flu over the long, winter season, this isn't good news."

Throughout her speech, Sabrina/Selena/Serena's rapturous smile slowly faded and morphed into an exaggerated expression of alarm. When she swiveled her chair toward me and re-crossed her legs, I drew in a covert deep breath.

"Joining us today is Doctor Edward Cullen, one of the CDC's top epi-demi-olo-gists- sorry." Sabrina/Selena/Serena looked up at me from her notes and giggled, leaning in conspiratorially even though we were on national TV. "I keep getting stuck on that word!"

"Not a problem. It's a long word."

"Anyway. Doctor Edward Cullen," she repeated, eyes back on her index card as she pushed her long, blond hair behind her shoulder, "is the CDC's lead this year in its Influenza research, and he's here to give us some further information. Doctor Cullen, thanks for taking time out of what I know is a busy schedule to join us this morning."

"Thanks…Ssselena. Glad to be here."

When she offered me a broad grin instead of a scowl, I knew I'd guessed correctly.

"So, Doctor Cullen, with the flu season underway, experts at the CDC are predicting a tough year. It's a little-known fact, which I've recently learned, that the production of flu vaccines begins six to nine months before the actual flu season begins?"

"Correct," I nodded.

"Which means," she said, furtively glancing down at her cheat sheet, "that the specific influenza viruses researched, predicted, and chosen for vaccination each year may not be the flu viruses we encounter when the true flu season begins."

Again, I nodded. "Yes, Selena. The preparation of vaccinations which will inoculate the general population against a specific season's strains of the flu virus is on average, I'd say…ninety-percent scientific research and ten percent chance. Unfortunately, some years those percentages fluctuate more toward chance." I splayed a palm between us and gestured the fluctuation. "Because it does take six to nine months to produce sufficient quantities of the flu vaccine to be delivered to the public in time for the northern hemisphere's fall flu season, adjustments for late-presenting strains are difficult."

Selena nodded thoughtfully, her brows furrowed in focused concentration. No one in the TV viewing audience would ever catch the lightning-quick glance at her index card.

"Is that why some years it seems so many people get sick with the flu even after being inoculated?"

"That's exactly why, yes."

This time, there was no surreptitious peek to her notes. "So, you're saying we should probably just skip this year's vaccine?"

"That's not what I'm saying at all, no." I rushed out the rest before Selena could ad-lib some more nonsense. "The CDC, along with the World Health Organization and several other worldwide collaborating centers send representatives like me around the world, for months at a time, to perform surveillance, collect specimens, and conduct clinical studies in order to develop the best possible inoculation. This year's inoculation does protect against other strains which were researched, predicted, and early in the season, are already presenting in the public. What I'm saying is that, unfortunately, there appears to be a new strain of the flu which has recently presented in the northern hemisphere, and it's a strain which we didn't include in this year's inoculation."

In my periphery, it appeared like someone suddenly stood behind the cameraman and began waving his or her arms, but I was in the middle of something too important to take a look.

"Specifically, we're talking Strain Number H5V2 of Influenza A, which hasn't been seen for a while, and which has the potential to cause a pandemic. See, strains can be further broken down into subtype, based on the regions in which they're found. So, for example, a few years ago, the Flu Pandemic of 2009 introduced a new strain of H1N1 into the human population, and it was further broken down by…by…" The antics of the person in my periphery became too distracting. I glanced over.

"Stop!" Emmett hissed, wildly waving his arms. "Stop talking fucking strains! No one cares! Just get to the damn point!"

I returned my attention to Selena, now noting how her expression of feigned interest had contorted into an unfeigned expression of dazed perplexity.

"Sorry, I tend to get carried…anyway," I sighed, "the point is, Selena, the new strain is a pretty potent one which causes higher fevers than we're used to seeing with most flu strains as well as severe chills, intense muscle aches, and acute lethargy."

"Is it deadly?" Selena stage-whispered off-script as if she were vying for an Oscar.

My jaw tightened imperceptibly. "As with any flu strain, if acquired, most of the population should pull through fine after a week or two of rest and plenty of fluids. Unfortunately, the younger and the older population are always at greater risk for further complications as are those whose immune systems are already compromised." I sat up straighter. "Look, we at the CDC want to assure you and the public that we're working diligently and around-the-clock to develop a booster as soon as possible. In the meantime, it's imperative that the public does it's best to keep themselves and their loved ones healthy. The best defense against catching and spreading most viruses is as simple as frequent handwashing or disinfecting, covering your mouth when coughing or sneezing, and as much as feasible, avoiding overcrowded public venues, at least until the booster vaccine has been developed and administered."

"Thanks so much Doctor Cullen. Those are all great suggestions, and I'm sure that coming from someone so obviously fit and…healthy," she giggled, "everyone will do their best to follow them. It'd be amazing to have you." Selena smiled then jumped, her eyes growing wide. "I meant, it was amazing to have you! On the show!" Another giggle. "What I meant was it was amazing to have you as a guest on the show!"

"Thanks for having me – on the show."

Afterward, as we made our way out of the studio, Emmett chuckled heartily and patted me on the back.

"It could've been worse."

I smirked. "Really? How so?"

"Well, you could've gotten into a discussion about specific strains straight off the bat, and the audience would've switched channels immediately and not even known there's a possible problem in the form of a virus lurking out there. And Selena Santos could've done more than air her wet dreams about you on live TV."

He roared with laughter while I rolled my eyes.

"At least that may have kept the audience tuned in. Other than that, I'm not sure those five minutes of embarrassment accomplished anything useful."

OOOOO

One evening, a few days later, I pulled myself away from the office a few hours earlier than I would've wanted, but I'd made a promise to my mom earlier that morning.

During my…self-imposed exile, Mom and I kept in touch through phone calls and video chats, often with JJ at her side; at least, enough so that surprisingly, when I physically saw him for the first time in almost a year, JJ had recognized me and called me, "Uncoe Ed."

As Emmett had once phrased it, I'd spent almost a year continent-hopping, chasing the toughest cases in the most hard-to-reach areas around the globe, in an effort to keep both physically and mentally occupied. In those first couple of months after…she and I argued, I'd left as a way to ensure I kept my promise to her by not succumbing to the almost overwhelming temptation to contact her. In those first few weeks, I wanted to contact her to offer more apologies, more explanations; to remind her of portions of That Day she'd obviously forgotten. What's more, common sense would occasionally abandon me and give way to moments of righteous indignation. In those moments, I was tempted to contact her in anger and lash out in pain.

But, reason and rationality had finally kicked in, and I realized how completely right she'd been and how totally wrong I'd been. What the hell was I but a reminder of the worst day of her life? I'd been so intently focused on keeping Alice and Jasper away from her that I'd failed to see…l should've kept me away from her as well.

Once I figured that out, all that remained was a dull ache, a void I'd filled by rising even higher at the CDC. To an outsider looking in, I was career-focused – an individual on his way to the top. And I was; but it had started out as something else.

Now, even though I'd been back in the U.S. for the past couple of months, I'd spent them rushing back and forth between New York and Atlanta. With the threat of a flu pandemic, it was all hands on deck. My days and nights were both busy. Nonetheless, my nephew, JJ, had become one of my joys outside of the office. Considering the dickheads the kid had for parents, I made a concerted effort to be there for him whenever I could.

So, when they closed down my parents' block for an early Halloween party – something called a 'Trunk or Treat' for the youngest of the trick or treaters, I was there.

"So, you're a shark, huh?" I asked JJ as we walked from one car trunk to the next, and I crouched down to clean his hands with disinfectant for the umpteenth time.

"I baby shahk, Uncoe Ed!" JJ clarified.

"Baby shark. I see." I nodded as if understood the correction, while JJ began bouncing around and singing some song about baby sharks.

Straightening, I chuckled in bemusement. JJ wore a dark blue sweater designed by his grandmother, with not-quite-so-sharp fins protruding from the back and equally dull-edged teeth overhanging the sweater's hood. The teeth were sewn with various shades of red and white fabric. His basket, a half-bitten beach ball, was also hand-made. These were some of the benefits of having a grandmother who was a famous designer.

Esme, who'd been talking with a neighbor, caught up to us while JJ bounced and sang. She adjusted his hood and pushed his blond curls under it.

"Don't touch his face until you clean your hands again, Mom."

She smirked at me over her shoulder. "Who do you think kept you alive for the first eighteen years of your life?"

I chuckled ruefully. Meanwhile, JJ kept bouncing and singing his shark song.

"What is that song?" I asked.

Esme snorted. "Edward, just be grateful you don't have to hear that song on replay day after day, hour after hour. Ask any of the parents or grandparents here. It's literally all we hear!" She chuckled, but then looked up at me with a tender smile. "Though, I'm sure something else will come along to replace it when you're a dad."

I quirked a brow in her direction and forewent a reply. "Come on, buddy," I said instead, guiding JJ to the next trunk.

"What?" Esme laughed when she caught up. "What did I say?"

I side-eyed. "Esme Cullen, please don't tell me this is going to turn into one of those conversations."

Again, she chuckled, guiltily this time. "It's not. It's not. It's just…" She took JJ's hand and stopped in front of me, blocking my way. Then, she reached up with her other hand and traced one eye and the other.

"I have two eyes, yes," I grinned.

She shook her head and offered me a wistful smile. "They look troubled."

"There's this nasty flu strain threatening to eradicate North America, so yeah, I suppose I'm a bit concerned," I smirked.

Esme snorted, looking unconvinced as she searched my eyes. "Your mind is always on taking care of the world; on fixing other people's lives."

Though it remained unspoken, I understood the second part to that comment. Thankfully, JJ wrangled himself loose from his grandmother's grip and rushed to the next trunk. Now, I understood the concept of this trunk or treat and why all the parents around me appeared more comfortable with the closed street.

"JJ, buddy hold up." I rushed after him and cleaned his hands after making sure he said thanks for his treat. We walked on to the next trunk, while my mom caught up.

She smiled softly, her eyes on her step-grandson. "In my heart, JJ is my flesh and blood," she murmured. "That doesn't mean I wouldn't love to have another grandchild."

"Speak to Alice. She's just stupid enough to get right on that for you with her one-trick-pony of a boyfriend."

"Edward."

It was a massively fucked-up thing to say; I was aware, even if I whispered it while keeping an eye on JJ a few feet ahead of us.

"She was fired from the newspaper yesterday. That's why I brought JJ tonight. She's been crying all day."

"I can't say I feel sorry for her, Mom," I shrugged. "For one, I'm sure she's getting enough sympathy – and financial support – from our father. And for another, you reap what you sow, right?"

"Not always, honey," Esme replied. "I tend to think that sometimes, Life tests us with what we don't deserve, whether good or bad. It's how we react to those tests which determine what we're made of."

I snorted dubiously. Meanwhile, JJ reached the next trunk. The owner, a woman with a little boy by her side dressed as Captain America, crouched in front of JJ and grinned.

"Oh my God, this is the best costume of the night. Baby Shark!"

JJ started bouncing and singing.

"Pick whatever you want, sweetheart," the woman said, holding out a huge basket full of toddler-appropriate snacks and toys toward JJ. He reached in with both hands.

"Just one, JJ," I reminded him.

JJ picked one and backed up. "Thanku."

The fact that he remembered to say thanks without having to be prompted had me beaming with pride. I may have puffed out my chest a bit.

"My God." The woman, a pretty, petite brunette, placed a palm on her heart. "What a well-mannered sweetheart." She looked at me and smiled. "Daddy taught him well."

"Yeah, well," I said vaguely.

JJ reached for my hand and yanked. "Come on, Uncoe Ed! Next twunk!"

"Coming, buddy."

"Oh, you're his uncle," the woman said. "It's great of you to take your nephew out."

"He doesn't make it a hardship."

"Aww. I have a single brother that enjoys helping me out with my little guy too." She sighed. "It's not easy being a single parent."

"I'll take JJ to the next trunk," Esme offered, pulling JJ from my grip.

"I'm coming," I said before looking back at the woman. "Thanks for the-"

"I'm Lauren, by the way," she said, stretching out a hand. "Lauren Mallory."

"Oh." I shook her hand and smiled. "Hi. I'm Edward Cullen."

"That was your mom?"

I nodded.

"Esme Cullen, the designer, right?"

Again, I nodded.

"No wonder your nephew's costume is so cute. I didn't say anything to her because I'm sure she gets enough strangers gushing over her."

"I appreciate that," I smiled genuinely now.

"No problem. So how old is your nephew – JJ, right?"

"Yeah. He's nineteen months."

"My little boy here, Tommy, is a little over two."

"Oh." I smiled at the boy. "Hey, Tommy."

"Listen, if you're ever interested in getting the boys together for a play date, he and I can be found most nights between the hours of four and six p.m. at the corner playground." She pointed down the block. "You're more than welcome to meet us there."

"All right. It's a busy time of year for me, but I'll let my mom know. She's with him a bit."

"Oh. Sure," she smiled. "That would be great. But hey, if things slow down, we'd love to see you there with JJ."

"I'll keep that in mind." I waved a hand in goodbye, but she asked another question, and I release an internal sigh.

"So, Edward, what do you do, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I work with the CDC."

"The CDC as in the Centers for Disease Control?"

"Yes."

She raised both eyebrows. "Oh, wow. I'm impressed. That's crazy what's going on with that new flu strain, isn't it?"

"I'd more call it concerning than crazy. But diseases tend to follow patterns of time, so it was time."

"I've noticed you keep cleaning your nephew's hands."

"Yeah. It's nothing personal against anyone here," I said sheepishly. "I just-"

"No, no. I think it's great." She waved away the rest of my explanation and picked up a large bottle of hand disinfectant behind her. "And it's reminded me to pull out my own disinfectant for Tommy."

"I'm glad then," I grinned. "Well, it was good to meet you, Lauren, and thanks for the treat."

"Good to meet you too, Edward."

Esme leaned into me when I caught up with her and JJ.

"So?"

"So…what?"

She held my gaze and shook her head, sighing.

"She seemed…nice," she said.

"She did seem nice," I agreed.

"You've had all the single moms and dads here, even some of the married ones, daydreaming since you arrived. The gossip's been passed down from trunk to trunk along with the candy." She cupped a hand around her mouth and spoke in a mockingly urgent tone. "Alert, alert! Tall, good-looking male in his late twenties slash early thirties in our midst! And he's not wearing a wedding band! Every man and woman for themselves!"

"I hope you're joking."

She chuckled. "I'm really not, sweetheart. Then, everyone holds their collective breaths when you finally stop and hold a semi-conversation…"

I made no reply. Instead, I crouched down and took my time cleaning JJ's hands.

Undeterred, Esme was waiting for me when I straightened. "All I'm saying, Edward, is that time moves forward, my love." She cupped my cheek. "You have to move forward with it."

When JJ dashed off to the next trunk, Esme sprinted after him. After a few seconds, I followed.

OOOOO

About a week later, my team and I were working late in the downtown, New York office. We were close to a breakthrough with the booster, but we had to ensure the sample was FDA-ready before we continued. That would require another trip to Atlanta the following week. In the meantime, we were crossing all our t's and dotting all our i's on a Friday evening. The entire group's weekend plans were on hold until we got everything settled and on track.

By the time eight o'clock rolled around though, the complaints started rolling in.

"So, let's obtain blood cultures of the left and right-"

"Ed, before we talk blood cultures, I think you should know that these vending machine chips ain't doing it anymore, panita." Emmett showed me the bottom of his empty chip bag.

"Yeah, for real." Bonnie, one of the other members of the team, agreed with Emmett.

"How about we break for a quick dinner, Ed?" Collin suggested.

"It's a bad time for a break, guys," I said, to the protesting groans of almost everyone.

"Edward, there is a great new restaurant a few blocks away," Maria said, yanking playfully on my sleeve while all the others were involved in the moaning. "I've heard the food is fantastic."

In the weeks following last year's semi-fiasco with Maria, where we'd carried on a semi-flirtation for about a day before it'd gone nowhere, things had been somewhat…awkward between us. Eventually, however, the awkwardness faded. This happened around the same time she'd started dating a guy from the FDA, a few floors down. What then remained between Maria and I was a friendly, work-related relationship. However, Emmett recently took it upon himself to inform me that Maria broke up with her FDA guy over the summer. More recently, she seemed to be smiling and joking with me a hell of a lot more.

And maybe…maybe Time moves forward whether you want it to or not.

"Have you heard," I grinned in return, "or have you been there?"

"No, I have not been there…yet." She offered me a teasing grin, which everyone else at the round table missed while complaining about food.

"Hm." I quirked a brow. "Unfortunately, we really do need to keep the momentum going tonight, so how about we just order in for now, and maybe next time..?"

She chuckled. "You are right. But maybe next time…sounds interesting."

I grinned broadly and backed away to address the rest of the table.

"All right. Maria has a good suggestion for a restaurant we can order from, so give me your orders, and I'll go pick us up some grub."

Everyone clapped and whistled. Emmett, however, shot me a way-too-knowing grin.

OOOOO

Changing into my sweats, I took a sprint to the restaurant. All the while, there was a strange song running through my head. Something about baby sharks.

With the song still stuck in my head, I pulled open the door to the restaurant. My eyes immediately found the hostess stand just a few feet in. The quicker I picked up our order, the quicker we could eat and get back to work. Two hostesses, both in their late teens or early twenties, stood at the podium, both who looked up as one when I approached.

"Welcome!" They both said in unison then giggled simultaneously.

"May we get you a table?" One of them asked.

"Uhm, no thanks. I placed an online order. Edward Cullen."

"Ooh!" the other hostess exclaimed. "Yes! I believe it's ready Mr. Cullen. Jane, go get it!"

"Gina, you go get it!"

Jane sucked her teeth. "Fine," she groaned before walking away.

"Do you live around here, Mr. Cullen?" Gina asked while we waited.

"Uhm, no. I work nearby."

"Oh. Working late?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. That sucks, having to work late on Friday. I mean, I'm working, and it's a Friday, but this is just my part-time job, and…"

I tuned out the rest; not so much because I wasn't interested – though, I wasn't – but because…

A peculiar, tingling sensation rolled up my spine. It was that feeling you get when someone's eyes are on you, and your heart begins racing because you're not sure why this person is so intently focused on you."

"Here you go, sir! Thanks for waiting and for your order!" Jane was back, but I barely understood the words coming out of her mouth.

Someone was watching me. My scalp prickled with the knowledge.

"Is there anything else I may do for you?"

"Is there anything else either of us may do for you?"

The question was…did I want to know who?

Yet, even as I asked myself that question, my head was already turning toward the source of that overwhelming, bewildering…and all-too-familiarly heady sensation.

I saw her eyes first, met them with my own. Those first couple of seconds, they were all I saw; dark, rich, and expressive…as expressive as they'd ever been. She was shocked. Caught unprepared. Anxious. Nervous. In the next second, I noted things in my periphery, the way I'd been trained to. She was dressed for a night out, her hand meeting someone else's halfway across the table…enclosed within someone else's. I noted him, yes, but at that moment, he was part of an insignificant background; a heart-clenching development, yes, and I'd definitely torture myself with a more thorough examination later. But at that moment, nothing could trump her.

Or the fact that she was frozen in bewilderment, and as always, as ever, my first instinct was to set her at ease. When I offered her a small smile, she hesitantly smiled in return.

Swallowing hard, I forced my eyes away from her and back to the puzzled hostesses.

"No, that's it. Thanks."

And without a look back, I picked up the bags and walked out.

A/N: Thoughts?

Chapter Song Rec: When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars.

Facebook: Stories by PattyRose

Twitter: PattyRosa817

"See" you soon!