A/N: This fic! The pacing of this fic gives me such trouble. Thanks for bearing with me! We're honing in on the end.

Bella stared at the map, blinking.

What the hell had she been doing?

Blink. Blink. Blink.

Her thoughts were filled with half-formed sentences. Maybe this… Too many… On the coast…

She sighed and tilted her head. Edward's gentle fingertips skimmed along her neck, brushing strands of hair back so he could press tiny kisses to the skin there. She should have been annoyed, but saying yes to the pull she felt for this man had given her damn hormones control. "This is important, you know," she said.

"Don't let me stop you," Edward murmured, his tone innocent.

"Edward," she warned but didn't pull away. "I have to find…" She sighed. Every inch of her skin was alive and aware; every nerve ending tingling with his touch. "There are…" She swallowed hard. "The camps you showed me. We have to avoid them and...oh." His hand rested around her, his fingers stroking at her stomach. "There are canyons. And dense forests. This…oh, hell. This is… important."

Edward hummed, and the sound vibrated in her blood. "I'm entertaining myself. Don't worry."

The inside of Bella's head had become a battleground these last few days. The world-wary warrior yelled with a drill sergeant's bark. Vigilance. Preparation. Alertness. Attention. It took all of her wit to keep herself alive in this world. One step ahead of whatever danger was coming next. Survival. She couldn't afford distractions.

On the other side was the woman she should have been. She was in a meadow. It was a scene out of a fairy tale—verdant green grass and bright flowers ringed by trees. A creek babbled just out of sight. And there was a gorgeous man nuzzling her neck. Aaron slept peacefully nearby, and they hadn't run into even a hint of recent civilization in days.

Edward's questing fingers traced a trail up along her side. Bella's eyes rolled back in her head with the thrill that rushed down her spine. Survival? What was the point of surviving if she never lived?

He did make her feel alive. Not in the living for someone else kind of way—that wasn't her style. He piqued her senses—all the long ignored ones that were everything good in life. Excitement. Joy. Pleasure.

"Oh, God," she moaned at the sky, her voice a croak as she tilted her head back to give him better access to her neck.

She lay back in the tall grass, bringing him down with her. There was a hunger in her that was getting harder to deny. Desire burned hot in her belly, but somehow it was a need not to consume but to be consumed. She spread her legs so he was pressed against every line of her. Even that wasn't close enough. Edward's hand slid along her leg and gripped under her knee. He tugged, and she hitched her leg around his waist bringing him closer still. They both moaned, and she caught the sound of it in her mouth.

The rough scratch of his stubble under her hands as she cupped his face. The scent of him—earth and man. The heady taste of his tongue as it pressed into her mouth, push and retreat, push and retreat. The black behind her closed eyes as she surrendered herself to the feel of him.

He owned her senses. He was her whole world in those blissful moments.

Bella bucked her hips up to meet his once. Twice. Again.

Edward broke their kiss and pulled away. "Bella." The word was a breathless plea. He'd pushed up, holding himself above her with his eyes screwed tightly shut.

"Sorry," she said, equally breathless. She touched his cheek gently. "Got carried away."

He rolled into a sitting position with a huff, but his smile was bemused as he looked down on her. "I started it." He kept his hand splayed over her midsection, not holding her down but keeping her there all the same.

They lapsed into a silence that was an accident on her part. She'd been struck by his beauty—his brilliant green eyes and the sheen of his bronze hair in the sunlight. In this peaceful, fairytale place, he seemed ethereal. From there, how could she help but take him in feature by feature? The strong jut of his chin. The line of his nose. The smile that played at his lips.

She was so distracted it took her minutes to realize he wasn't speaking either. Like her, he was staring, his eyes sweeping her face and then down.

Heat went through her again. A different kind of heat. One that pooled in her cheeks.

How long had it been since she'd thought about her body outside of survival mode? In order for her to survive, her body had to be maintained. Three checks on her neverending checklist—food for fuel and strength, cleanliness, protection.

Under Edward's gaze, she remembered all the things her body was capable of. She reached up, tangling her fingers with his, imagining all the ways she wanted him to touch her.

He would. If she asked. If she touched him. If she pulled him down again. He would follow where she led.

Bella closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She breathed in and out.

"We have things to do," she said as she sat up again.

"Bella." He said her name so quietly it was almost a whisper.

She closed her eyes. Waited several beats too long before she finally looked at him. "What?"

There was such tremendous sadness in his eyes; like he knew the futility of his plea before he said it, but that didn't stop him. "Stay."

And for a moment, she could see it.

An end to her journey. Not just this side quest to get him and Aaron to their safety, but an end to all of it. To be done with journeying and loneliness and homelessness. To share the burden of her safety and survival.

To be with Edward in all the ways she wanted to. In a place where, if the worst happened and she became pregnant, she would still be safe.

But then, that was what had sent her running in the first place, wasn't it? That was what she'd escaped because she refused to be just a means to an end. A vessel to carry a line in danger of dying out.

Bella gave her head a quick shake. "This thing you feel." She swallowed hard, looking away. "We feel. It's situational. Shared trauma does that."

He grabbed her hand before she could stand and pulled her back close. His eyes were intense on hers. "It's not that I want you." His lips quirked. "Not just that. Even if I could never touch you again, I don't want to lose you." He sighed. "Just stay."

She held her breath until the urge to say yes passed. "We have things to do," she said quietly instead.

He sighed and they both stood to get to work.

~0~

Their last full day together was terrible.

She'd fallen asleep the night before in his arms. That was her first mistake. It was startling how easy it was to get used to his presence by her side. She was never more vulnerable than when she slept—hours of time she wasn't aware of her surroundings. With his warmth against her back, one arm slung possessively over her midsection, she felt the illusion of safety.

Or maybe safety wasn't the right word. Her rational mind knew he was just as unaware and, of the two of them, she was better able to protect them both. Contentment. That was the feeling. When she woke, before thought pervaded the pleasant fog in her brain, she felt a deep sense of peace; of well-being.

Like she was where she was meant to be, there in his arms with his breath puffing lightly against her neck.

She couldn't freeze time, she reminded herself. She couldn't stay in this perfect moment.

She couldn't afford to forget the reality of the world and her place in it. She'd spent years trying to avoid the compounds; she wasn't about to walk into one now.

That second voice in her, the one who still remembered what her twenties were supposed to look like, rattled the bars of the cage Bella had shoved her in. She was falling for Edward. Scratch that. She'd fallen. It was done. She wanted the luxury of taking a chance, of seeing what they could be. If it didn't work out, what was the worst that could happen? A broken heart? Highly survivable.

And she agreed with herself. A broken heart she could survive. It would break her heart to walk away from him, but she would live.

It didn't mean she was happy about it.

Her heart ached, and the weight of it in her chest seemed to make it hard to breathe. She was angry at the world, and it made her cranky. Her impatience flared, and she snapped at Edward until he snapped back. They walked most of the day in a stony, uncomfortable silence when they weren't bickering.

As if that weren't enough, Aaron wasn't feeling well. They had to stop once when the little boy threw up all over Edward. Worse than that, when he wasn't sleeping, he cried. A lot. And loudly.

The only luck they had all day was coming across an outpost, not unlike the one she'd been in at Yellowstone. The kind for whatever official people had business this far into the uninhabited wilds of Washington. More than that, the small space had clearly last been occupied by a woman; a survivalist with a penchant for feeling girly, it seemed. Bella had been bemused to find stacks of non perishable supplies, knives and, most importantly, a solar powered portable shower that had been out in the sun for ages alongside things like lotion, spendy conditioners, hairbrushes and lip balms.

And a big, purple, fluffy robe, folded and clean.

There was a heavy layer of dust on everything. It was possible the little outstation had been the home of an ecologist out here on a months-long study of the plants or wildlife or weather.

It was equally possible it had been home to someone like her. Maybe it was a summer home as the little cabin in Yellowstone had been for her. Maybe her fellow survivalist left small cabins stocked with supplies all over the country. Bella had certainly considered it.

Maybe this woman had been caught.

Maybe she was dead.

Bella shook those thoughts away. Wherever her fellow survivalist friend was, she would have to hope the woman would forgive her for using a few of her items. After a long, shitty day, with the promise tomorrow would be worse, Bella's first vaguely warm shower in years was just the thing. How long had it been since she could practice self-care?

She left Edward in charge of getting himself and Aaron clean by the river and took the time she needed to get her head on straight.

The portable shower didn't have a great capacity, of course, so Bella still did most of her bathing in river water, especially since the use of the spendy shampoos and conditioners she'd found necessitated more than one rinse. But afterward, she stood under the spray of the shower, running her fingers over her skin as the floral scented body wash slid down her body.

All too soon, the water ran out. Bella sighed. Wrapped in the robe, she set about the task of getting her hair dry. It was becoming a chore which was usually a sign it was time to cut it short. Necessity. Practicality.

Bella made her way inside, heart aching for too many reasons, trying not to be bitter that she couldn't let her hair grow long just for the hell of it.

Inside, it didn't take long to gather what she needed: a brush, a comb, and her hunting knife. Bella closed her eyes as she brushed the snarls out of her hair. She tried not to feel anything but the pull of the bristles and the coolness of the air on her damp skin. The shampoo and conditioner she'd used on a whim left a floral scent, and she breathed it in, letting it soothe her.

All too soon, she had to open her eyes. With a sigh, she picked up the knife from where it rested on the table. There was a small mirror propped up against a tin of baked beans. She tilted her head this way and that, trying to find a good angle so she could see what she was doing. Not that there was any great reason for it. She supposed there was some vanity left in her that she wanted the cut to be as neat as possible.

"Can I help?"

The quiet, low timbre of his voice sent a thrill through her. And now that he'd made his presence known, she could feel him, the energy of him, on her skin. The words were innocent enough but her body reacted as though he'd whispered something filthy in her ear. Excitement sped her heartbeat. Desire coiled low in her belly.

She cleared her throat, turning slightly in her seat, and handed him the hunting knife wordlessly. When he took it, she turned again and closed her eyes. A tremor ran through her body and she released her breath in a silent gust when he was near enough she could feel his heat.

He brushed his finger just below her ear, and she had to catch a soft moan from escaping. "Here?" he asked.

It took her a few beats to realize he was talking about the length of her hair. She swallowed and jerked her head in a nod.

They lapsed into silence. There was a clunk—Edward setting the knife back down—and then the slide of the brush through her hair again. Maybe she should have told him she'd already brushed her hair out, but she was caught off guard by the emotion that welled in her then. The electricity, the pull and ache for his touch, was there, yes, but there was something more. Deeper.

This was so intimate.

His fingertips skimmed her nape as he pulled a strand of hair taut. He held the strand in place with his thumb and pointer finger while his other three fingers pressed against her scalp, protecting her from the tug as he cut. There was something so tender about the scenario. He wasn't merely helping her; he was caring for her.

What a strange thing—to be cared for by someone again.

"You got the baby to sleep?" Bella asked, scrambling for a distraction.

"Mmm hmm." Edward didn't offer more than that, and Bella couldn't think of anything else to say. She was distracted by how good it felt when he combed his fingers through her newly shorn hair.

Brush. Tug. Cut. With her eyes closed, Bella was caught in a surreal space. The rhythm of his work soothed her. His touch sent electricity up and down her spine.

He was quick and efficient; done too soon. "How's this?"

Bella breathed in deep through her nose, hesitating a beat or two more before she let her eyes open. She tilted her head back and forth, examining the look in the tiny, square mirror. Her smile was bittersweet. "It's good. Thank you."

Before she could convince herself to get moving—there was always something more to do—his hand, light on her shoulder, stopped her. She drew in a deep breath when he pulled her robe down slightly, but he only brushed his fingers along her skin. Stray hairs, she realized, her heart picking up an erratic rhythm anyway. He ducked his head, leaning down close and blew hot air against her neck.

The warring voices in her head got louder. The twenty-something she should have been was beginning to make so much sense.

With a shuddering sigh, Bella squeezed her eyes tightly shut again. She stood, but she didn't face him. Releasing her breath in a slow gust, she rolled her shoulders. The sound of the robe sliding down her body and falling to the floor was loud in her ears.

"Bella." Edward's voice was a rasp, a warning, a plea.

She turned, remarkably calm now, and traced a finger along the line of his jeans. "There's a little stockpile of Plan B pills on one of the shelves. You should take it with you tomorrow, but…" She hooked a finger in the first loop of his jeans and pulled him forward, closer. "I thought we could use one."

His eyes searched hers for only a beat before he tilted his head, taking her lips. Clearly, she wouldn't have to ask twice. His hands were all over her, as though he didn't know where or how to touch her first. It was a frenzy she was familiar with—the physical release of the tension that had vibrated in her blood ever since she'd let herself act on her attraction to him. Her hands too couldn't decide what they wanted most. To cup his ass? To tangle in his hair?

But always whispering in her ear was the knowledge that they had so little time left. No time to waste.

She moved her hands to the button of his jeans. Moving together, they made short work of his clothes. She pulled his pants and underwear down. He broke their fervent kiss long enough to pull his shirt off before he reached for her again. His hands ran over her body, and he moaned into her mouth when she took his hot length in her hands.

Enjoying the way his hungry lips moved with hers, Bella didn't break their kiss to look. Instead, she explored his cock with her hands. She ran her fingertips along the smooth skin, feeling him harden with her touch. She cupped his balls, teasing the thatch of hair at the base of him, and tested their weight in her palms. She moved back up, circling him where he was thickest.

She needed him inside her; needed him to fill her; needed it now.

As though he could read her mind, Edward pressed her backward, up against the wall. He used a knee to guide her legs apart, and then it was his hands touching, teasing. He pressed a thumb against her clit, rubbing as his mouth trailed kisses along her jaw, toward her neck. Bella leaned her head back against the wall, and gasped. She whispered his name when he pressed a finger inside her.

"You're so wet," he said, his voice a low growl. He nipped and soothed her skin with a sweep of his tongue.

She pressed up against him, and he took her by the waist. He pulled them both away from the wall. He took her mouth again, his kiss bruising, and she returned it in kind before he spun her around. One hand splayed firm against her shoulder blade, he pressed her down. Bella went willingly, sighing as he dropped kisses along her spine.

With his other hand, Edward guided himself to her entrance. He paused giving her time, she thought, to change her mind. But she wouldn't. Couldn't. And she didn't want to. She wanted him. She wanted this.

He sheathed himself inside her in one thrust, and they both cried out.

"Okay?" he asked, breathless as he leaned over her.

"Yes," she said around a moan. She didn't have the words for just how okay it was. How it felt to be filled by him, to feel her walls around him. How it felt to be surrounded. Consumed. The weight of him pressing her into the table. She rocked back against him.

He began to move in her. She spread her legs wider, taking him deep inside her. He nudged her head, and she tilted her neck to the side, letting him press his mouth there. The heat of his breath; the bite of his teeth; the thrust and pull that set off each of her nerve endings. She cried out again and strangled the sound, reaching one hand back to feel him as he moved and the other forward to grip the edge of the table.

Their rhythm built to a fevered pitch as it had from the moment she'd given in to this desire, this pure need for him. What a beautiful symphony they made—guttural grunts, the moans, the sharp commands. Please. More. There. Edward. Bella. The slap of skin against skin.

This wasn't sex; it was union. And she couldn't pretend what she felt from him was a simple matter of him being the only man on earth.

"Bella." The word was a warning and a benediction all at once.

"Yes," she answered, following him over the edge. Her vision seared white. Her thoughts went blank.

Minutes went by. He was draped over her—heavy and hot. Such an awkward position, bent as she was, and yet she was in no hurry to move.

He moved. He stood straight, his hand gentle on her shoulder. With a soft tug, he pulled her upright. "Are you crying?"

She laughed. She couldn't help it. She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him again. "Don't worry. It has nothing to do with your performance."

His eyes searched hers. He cupped her cheek, the touch so tender another tear welled and spilled over. He wiped it away with his thumb.

Bella kissed him then. There was no fervor to this kiss. That frenzy had been sated for now. She kissed him and pulled him until they were in the little bedroom. They sat on the little bed, kisses languid, hands stroking, holding. They lay together, and when he grew hard again, she straddled his hips. She had him again. And again in the early morning light. Until they finally slipped together into sleep, their final day ending despite their best efforts.

A/N: I'll see you as soon as I can. Promise.