A/N: Welp.

~Five years later~

"I thought you said mountain climbing saved your life. Why are you going to let it kill you?"

Edward arched an eyebrow and looked over his shoulder at Tanya Ivanova. He'd met the vivacious young woman the night before when he'd pulled into the campground. It was early morning now, not quite dawn. His eyes followed her as she walked around to plop in front of him at the picnic table.

She looked not at him but at the paperwork he had spread out in front of him, turning one printed out page to face her. "All the hikes here in Yosemite are a long way from Everest."

"Everest is my plan for my ten year anniversary."

Now it was Tanya's turn to arch an eyebrow. "Anniversary?"

His lip twitched.

Edward was well aware Tanya was interested in him. The night before, when he'd stepped out of his camper, too tired from the long drive to do anything more creative for dinner than canned Dinty Moore stew, she'd sidled up to him with a bottle of wine. She was supposed to be here in Yosemite with her sisters, but they were running late, she'd explained as she offered him a plate of steak and veggies.

"There's plenty of room in my camper tonight," she'd said, batting her bedroom eyes.

But she'd accepted his gentle rebuff.

"Anniversary of my decision to climb mountains instead of throwing myself off them," he clarified. He was still in a blunt mood. He had been last night too, when he'd told her the truth about what made him such an avid hiker.

This was, after all, his five-year anniversary of that momentous choice.

"So you're going to let the mountain kill you instead?" Tanya pointed to a picture of Everest. "You know there are hundreds of bodies up there, right? Literally, you're actively dying when you're up there."

"Most people survive."

"Minus a few toes, maybe."

Edward smiled and began to gather his supplies. "That's the point of planning this far ahead. I'm going to make sure I do everything possible to prepare."

Though, she'd hit the nail closer to the head than he was admitting. There was something about the single mindedness of many Everest climbers. Everest was a consuming goal, and—to those who took it on—well worth the risk of their lives.

Maybe that was what drew him to the endeavor—the idea he could be consumed by anything again.

"You do like to play it risky, don't you?" Tanya shook her head, her expression bemused. "Solo hiking and now Everest."

"Solo hiking isn't so risky out here. The trails are well marked."

"Solo hiking is always risky." She wagged a finger at him. "Clearly someone hasn't been listening to the park rangers."

He smiled. "Well, in the interest of safety, I'll leave my intended route with you."

Back in his camper, he took a few minutes to double-check his pack of supplies and set off.

Yes, he was well aware solo hiking was not preferred. Especially after five years of hikes and climbs, he was well versed in trail safety. Anything could happen in the wilderness—far away from roads, hospitals, and cell signals. One of the biggest rules for surviving a wildlife encounter with a bear or other predator was not to sneak up on it. The more people traipsing through the woods, the more likely any disaster could be mitigated.

But the silence of nature was what drew him to it in the first place. Being alone with his thoughts and the beauty of the natural world was most of the point.

Once he hit a good stride, his thoughts turned inward. He found himself considering Tanya, and the ever-present question: what if?

These last five years, Edward had continued therapy. Of course, the idea of moving on had come up more than once.

While the idea of soulmates was, for many, a romantic notion, his therapist had pointed out the logistical nightmare. One person? Building your life around one single person, believing they were everything was an awful lot of pressure for both parties. He was capable of being happy. He was capable of true, deep commitment and emotion.

And if he wanted to bang a few gongs just for the hell of it, there was nothing wrong with that either.

But Edward had never been attracted to anyone but Bella. Not when he was a teenager, not when they were married, and not afterward.

At first, his therapist had approached it as just one more facet of his dysfunction. His disinterest in moving on was something he could and should overcome.

More recently, she'd begun to speculate he was, perhaps, on the asexual spectrum. A greysexual experienced sexual attraction on a limited basis, usually after getting to know and connect with a person. And that made some sense. Edward had never been a people person. There were very few human beings whose presence he could tolerate for any good amount of time.

It was an interesting theory, and probably for the best, if true. Even all these years later, he couldn't imagine touching someone else and not thinking of Bella. In all the years they were together, he'd memorized what her body felt like beneath his fingertips; the sound of her pleasure, her laughter; the way she looked when she came undone.

After all this time, he didn't think it would be fair to another partner.

His therapist's concern was that having a family had been such a big part of who he was and what he wanted for his future.

But the way Edward had come to see it, having a family was just one thing he could do with his life. It wasn't the only path to happiness. Hell, he knew plenty of people who, while they deeply loved their children, also would have chosen a different life if they could do it all over.

For now, Edward had found, if not happiness, then at least, serenity in the woods and mountains. He liked the way the quiet made his head less crowded. Out there, all the loss he'd suffered, the regret and the pain, didn't seem to weigh as much. He could take a deep breath.

More than that, he enjoyed the exhilaration. The scrambles up rocky paths, crossing easy streams like he was a pioneer, and seeing views only lightly touched by human sprawl.

This particular trail was located in the Yosemite backcountry, far away from the tourist haven of the Yosemite Valley. He did pass a hiker here or there—or a faster hiker passed him—but they were gone with an acknowledging nod or an exchange of basic pleasantries.

It was early afternoon when he got where he was going. The view from the mountain's peak was breathtaking. He stood for minutes just gazing out at the view.

His eyes lingered on the more famous of Yosemite's features, specifically the peak where he'd once sat, Yosemite Falls tumbling below his feet, and asked Bella to marry him.

He closed his eyes and just breathed the cool mountain air for a few minutes. In through his nose, out through his mouth, mitigating the pain of loss that washed over him.

There was a reason his sister had called him a masochist for planning this trip. He'd known coming back to this place that held so many happy memories for them was going to be difficult. That was another reason why he'd stayed away from the valley. Following his own increasing need to find more difficult hikes, he should have been conquering Half Dome or El Capitan.

Opening his eyes, he set about the business of the day. He unpacked the trail-friendly meal he'd prepared, ate, and packed it all up again, following the leave no trace tenet of enjoying nature. With that done, he pressed his back against a rock in the shade, intending to rest a few minutes before heading back down.

There, in the quiet of the mountains, he indulged in daydreams. Behind his closed eyelids, with the light breeze rustling his hair like a caress, he spun fantasies about what his life could have been.

The next thing he knew, he was startled into full consciousness by a noise so loud, his ears rang. He scrambled to his feet, blinking rapidly as he looked around, trying to understand what had woken him and what was going on.

Another loud clap sounded. Thunder. His befuddled mind tried to make sense of it. The forecast had been clear. Keeping up with changes in the weather was another trail safety rule. Bad weather was easily deadly out in the wilderness.

He hadn't double-checked the forecast that morning, too distracted by his own melancholy. But the sky had been so clear, and none of the other hikers had any warnings for him.

The sky was dark with ominous clouds. Thunder rumbled this time, echoing across the distance. Rain began to fall.

Edward looked around as his mind finally cleared. Where there was thunder and rain, there was lightning. Yosemite's mountains were made of granite—a severe lightning risk. He grabbed for his pack. As he pulled it on, he took a glance around.

And froze.

At first, he thought he must still be asleep; he must still be dreaming.

There, climbing quickly and agilely down another section of the mountaintop maybe five hundred feet from him was the subject of his daydreams, the woman still in most every thought he had.

Bella.

Breath left him at the sight of her. His memories never had done her justice. She was stunning. He watched as she jumped down to the level ground, adjusted her pack and—as he had—looked around.

And froze when their eyes met.

It had to be a dream. He waited to wake up. He waited for her to walk away from him. Again. As well she should. He—

Whatever he would have done or she would have done, he'd never know. The next second, there was a blinding flash of light, a deafening boom. His whole body seized—his muscles, his bones, his tissue, everything going stiff as a board as he slammed to the ground. Pain sliced through him—like razor blades ripping open his veins along every inch of his body, spilling molten lava under his skin. He opened his mouth to scream but found he couldn't. He couldn't even breathe.

He told Bella once that Hell would be a mercy to the pain of living without her. This must be the Devil then, come to claim him and test that theory.

The white light faded slowly from the center of his sight. Though he couldn't see much, Edward would have sworn he saw her. Bella. Leaning over him. A surreal, ethereal angel. His last vision as Hell closed its fist around him and pulled him under.

A/N: Well… here's the thing. The last chapter is giving me problems. I figured out how to fix those problems, but I doubt the chapter will be ready by tomorrow. SO. Friday. Promise.