I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

Author's Note: Yeah, I know this Edward is not a very nice guy. :p But what fun is it to always have him be the hero? Sometimes, he's not the hero. Sometimes, he's the bad guy. (Okay, cheesy and tacky, I know, but I'm feeling cheesy and tacky today!) I just enjoy making characters into my own personal Stretch Armstrong dolls, pulling and twisting and contorting just for the hell of it. My apologies. But I still had fun, not gonna lie.

Chapter 5: Orbits Gone Astray

Can't find another way around
And I don't want to hear the sound, of losing what I never found.
I shot for the sky
I'm stuck on the ground
So why do I try, I know I'm gonna to fall down
I thought I could fly, so why did I drown?
I never know why it's coming down, down, down.

"Down" by Jason Walker

She is laughing.

He wants to go to her. Every cell of his body cries out for her. But his feet remain rooted in the ground below. Her laughter turns into quiet weeping and he screams at the blue sky above. He watches the clouds roll in, knowing that they bring them his destruction. He can do no more than stare helplessly at them.

Suddenly he is set free and he runs to her.

She is curled up in their meadow, her arms wrapped around herself, sobbing. He touches her cheek and her eyes fly open. Instead of throwing herself into his arms, she scrambles to her feet and backs away from him.

She gives him one last panicked look and then she runs.

And he knows there's not a chance in hell he'll ever catch her.

~OT~

In spite of Emmett's warning, I found myself contemplating my next step. It was beyond selfish, but that was who I was. It was cruel, but I'd never claimed to be anything but. It was wrong on every single level. And I knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that I would do it anyway.

I wanted to talk to her. I needed to know if I had imagined that note of distance and restraint in her voice. I knew she had a life now, well, if you could call it that. Her existence was small and constrained, while mine was… Mine was out of control. Mine was the opposite of small, in every destructive way possible. Even I recognized that, even if I didn't want to do anything to rein it in.

I liked the dizzying terror of not being sure if I would actually wake up in the morning. The very uncertainty of my existence gave me a sort of sick thrill. Half-life or death? Did it really matter anymore?

Then I would wake up and I would realize that I had survived another day. Odd, but that never gave me any sense of satisfaction. I kept expecting that it would, but no… There was nothing beyond a strange sense of impending – something. Every time I woke up, I was both surprised and disgruntled, as if I had lost my turn by some random toss of the dice in some cosmic game of life.

I should be dead. I should be dead. No matter how I said it, the crux of the matter remained. I didn't deserve to breathe the oxygen I wasted with every breath.

But somehow, somehow I sensed that it would be better if I could only get Bella to listen to me. My dreams of hurting her, my wish to hear agony in her voice, had faded and left behind only the certainty that only with her forgiveness could I have any hope of…redemption? I wasn't even sure that was what I was looking for; I only knew that Bella was the only person who could offer it to me.

My fate rested in her hands. I was torn between conflicting desires. I wanted to hurt her, and yet at the same time I longed to know whatever secret she harbored that brought her such joy in such a miserable existence.

So the day came when I decided to ignore my brother's warnings and I dialed the number. "The number you have reached has been changed. No further information is available about…"

Bella had frustrated me. Again.

What was it about her that ate at me? What kind of hold could a small town girl, married to a crippled "hero" and the mother of a damaged child possibly have on me? When I stared at her pictures, it was as if I could see some secret lurking in her dark eyes. It was like there was some ancient mystery of life and happiness that only she had solved. The answers were there, in her eyes, pulling at me, tugging me into her orbit.

She was the sun and I was a helpless body – a mass of air and earth and water, destined to orbit forever. I could no more resist her call than the Earth could stop circling the sun. We were both bound into our places – forever. There would be no mercy or reprieve.

But maybe, just maybe, Bella could free me. She could tell me those secrets that she kept hidden in her brown eyes and I would know. And knowing would set me free. And freedom would bring me peace.

It was all up to Bella.

I had to know. I had to be free. I had to find peace. If even the questionable solace of death was going to be denied me, then peace would have to do. Wasn't death just the ultimate peace? And if she wouldn't murmur her secrets to me, if she would not grant me that questionable mercy, then I would simply make sure that death did not elude me again.

Instead of merely courting it, I would embrace it and hold it closer to me than any woman I'd ever fucked.

There was a sense of ease in having a plan. I had to talk to her, see her. In person, she could not elude me. She would look into my eyes and I would gaze into hers and her secrets would be laid bare for me.

I booked a flight to Nashville, cursing myself as I did so. I knew I wouldn't stop me. I was being drawn inexorably toward my salvation or destruction.

I would fly incognito. No one would care about the bearded man who looked like he hadn't slept in a few months. I would be just another scruffy, skinny nobody. I had a plan. The plan soothed me. I felt in control again. I felt smug at my impending success. Nothing could stop me. Bella had always been helpless against me when I laid the charm on thick and sweet. I knew how to work her. I always had. She had told me as much. In some ways, Bella would always belong to me. I was her first. You never forget your first.

I hadn't, as much as I had wanted to, I hadn't. I never would. Her mark was on me as if she'd branded me.

I would succeed. There was no other option. And by the time Emmett found out that I had defied him, I would already possess Bella's secrets and his anger wouldn't matter anymore. I would have already won.

I rented a car with a license that had a fake name on it. My haggard appearance kept anyone from recognizing me. I was anonymous in my pain and desperation. I found the little house with no difficulty. I had been sober for two whole days. It was a record for me. My head ached but at least I could drive. I shouldn't, my license having been lost long ago. But I could, and that was all that mattered. Besides, I had lawyers who could make anything inconvenient simply go away.

Sobriety was painful. I couldn't stop thinking. I couldn't stop remembering. I didn't want to remember the Bella-that-had-been. So I would see the Bella-that-was and I would be freed from the curse of her memory. I would take her mysteries as my own, and her defeat, the invasion of her small little life would make mine expand and there would be nothing but good things ahead. It was not right that she should find contentment in her burdened life when I, who had so much to live for, found life such a chore. It was wrong. It was insufferable.

I pulled into her driveway and I took a deep breath. This is it, Cullen. This is your moment. This is the moment when you reclaim the life you've built for yourself.

My life was shit and I knew it.

But tomorrow, well tomorrow would bring something different. I could feel it. I could practically smell the change in the air. Years from now, when I looked back on these moments that I sat in a rental car in Bella Swan's driveway, I would realize that my life before this day and after this day were two completely different lives – led by different men.

Peace and the secret to contentment waited in that little house. Those things should be mine and they within reach at long last.

I got out of the car and walked up the driveway to the little porch. Children's toys littered the tiny porch and a wreath of fake flowers decorated the door. This was a tiny little house with little lives being lived out inside of it.

I was bigger than this.

I was better than this.

But I wanted it all. And Bella would free me. When she did, I could finally start living the life for which I'd given up so much.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

He opened the door and all those thoughts I had had about his naïveté and ignorance danced away at the expression in his face. His eyes went from friendly and open to hostile and shuttered in a moment. In an instant, he was the warrior, the man who had been to hell and back and was fully prepared to go back there in defense of his family. "What do you want?" he asked coldly.

"I want to talk to Bella," I said, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"Yeah, that ain't happening, asshole." I heard a movement behind him and then there was Bella, her face pale and drawn as she peered around Black's arm.

She put a hand on his arm, his real one, and leaned into him. "It's all right, Jake," she murmured. "This won't take long." Her eyes flickered toward me. "Not long at all," she added.

As always, she was both fearless and honest.

Their eyes met and some unspoken communication flickered between them lightning fast. I was the outsider, the unwanted and uninvited intruder. I swallowed hard and every intention I had had suddenly became smoke and drifted up to disappear into a blue sky. So much for bad intentions…

The reality of Bella rocked the foundation on which I stood.

She opened the door wider and I could see reluctance radiating in Black's big, broken body. It was a little humiliating to admit, but I wasn't entirely sure I could take him, one arm and leg or not. That fucker was huge. His clumsy prosthetics and awkward appearance aside, he practically vibrated with fury. His remaining arm looked large and powerful; his hand seemed big enough to crush my throat with very little effort on his part. It would be a mistake to think of this man as incapable of protecting what was his. Protecting Bella and their daughter.

He eyed me like I was a predator who had wandered into their midst and he subtly angled his body between us. I heard noises from the kitchen and I guessed their daughter was in there doing whatever it was that kids her age did.

Jacob Black moved in sync with Bella, their motions oddly in tune with each other. It was as if she had matched her gait to his awkward one. Her former gracelessness had given way to a gentle, fluid way of moving that somehow complemented his ungainly and off-kilter movements. They fit with each other, and it only took a few moments in their presence to recognize that.

I hated it.

Jacob went to the kitchen table and unstrapped and plucked a tiny body up out of a high chair, his hands – one flesh, one metal – oddly assured in their movements. Then the child was facing me and I found myself enthralled and spellbound.

She had dark eyes, almond-shaped and lovely, but not even close to empty as I had expected, instead they were wise in their own way. They were both ancient and innocent at the same time. I felt as if there was something hidden deep within those guileless eyes, something that would forever elude someone like me. The oddly compelling eyes blinked at me. The little girl smiled widely and reached for my face. Black jerked her away before she could touch me, like I was dirty.

I couldn't take my eyes from that little face. It was imperfect, cruelly so, yet somehow, for all her differences, the kid was...beautiful. Pure. That was it. She was pure. Innocent and sweet in a way that I don't think I'd ever been, in a way most people have never even known. It was...humbling. Odd. Terrifying. Reassuring, but I had no idea why.

"She's beautiful," I whispered to Bella. I wasn't sure why I spoke those words, but I noticed that something in Bella softened. Her eyes were warm and full of love as she watched her daughter's face retreating, tucked snugly over her husband's broad shoulder.

"Yes she is," Bella agreed. Then her expression grew grim and she turned to look at me. "Why are you here, Edward?"

"I..." I held out my hands. "I don't really know, to be honest."

Her eyes didn't waver. "We're ancient history, Edward. I'm not really sure what purpose might be served by coming here. Are you trying to see if you can still hurt me?" Her expression was knowing and disdainful.

I had been. That had been my purpose. And it had felt good to have a purpose again, sick and twisted as it was. But that was lost now, evaporated in the face of an innocent girl who had been limited before she was even born. How odd that some kid would make me...fuck. Make me feel.

Once again, I was cut loose and cast adrift. It had only ever been this girl who had once loved me, this woman who hated me, who had ever anchored me to earth. Then I had cut the ties between us and soared up, up, up...never giving a thought to what would happen when the journey was over.

Bella's shoulders slumped and she leaned on the cheap kitchen counter. "Edward, I know that Emmett warned you to stay away from me. I asked you to stay away. I think you owe me that at least. Just leave me alone. Leave us alone."

I stared at her. Her small little life suited her. In spite of her burdens, she glowed. She looked like one of those Madonnas I had seen in countless paintings from a different time, a woman made beautiful by some otherworldly sense of what really matters. It was somehow no surprise that Bella had been destined for an imperfect existence that would suit her so damned perfectly.

Gone was the girl I had known. In her place was a woman who had faced the darkness head on and come out the victor. Where did she get her strength? Did she get it from a place that only the good knew about? If that was the case, I would never be granted that mercy. Perhaps Bella, out of the goodness of her heart, would give some to me, in the interest of what we had once shared.

"You're right," I finally said. "I owe you that at least. But we both know I'm a selfish asshole, so here I am."

Bella's head hung down for a moment and then she turned, leaning against the counter. I could hear Jacob's deep voice talking to the little girl.

That might have been your daughter, an insidious voice inside my head reminded me. It could have been. If you hadn't fucked it all up. But someone like me wasn't worthy of that little girl, much less the incredible woman who stood before me.

"I need-" I began.

Bella's dark eyes stopped that thought. I didn't have the right to talk about what I wanted or needed. But I was going to anyway. I was going to be selfish because it was what I knew. I didn't have an empathetic bone in my miserable body.

I swallowed hard. "I admit, I came to hurt you," I finally said. "I wanted you to hurt like I hurt."

"Why?" Her voice was gentle and that threw me.

To my horror, I felt the tears sliding down my cheeks. Traitorous, treacherous tears. Angrily, I wiped at them and sniffled like a terrified boy. "Because it's all shit, Bella. My whole fucking life...it's shit...and I don't know how to make it better."

"Why, Edward?"

"Why is it shit?" I asked.

Her smile was sad and knowing. "I know why your life is shit, Edward. I only have to look at you to figure that out. You suffer from an excess of yourself." Her eyes were wise and tender, but remote all the same. She had moved beyond me, that much was abundantly clear. "Why did you want to hurt me? Why did you think that hurting me would make your shitty life look better?"

This was it. This was my moment of truth. Like that time outside that concert hall in Seattle, I had to chance to change the course of my life. I had a chance to do something different.

The words that spilled out of me were not planned; they were not what I intended at all. But they were perhaps the most honest words I'd spoken in years...in my life.

"Because I wanted you to know that I lied to myself when I said I didn't love you. I lied. I lied with every phone call I didn't make, with every letter I didn't write. I lied every time I fucked another woman and desperately pretended it wasn't you I was thinking of." The shame became a mantle I couldn't discard, an oppressive weight that made itself a part of me. I raised my eyes to hers. "I wanted to tell you that I had lied...and that I'm...I'm sorry."

How long had it been since I said those words? Something in my chest unclenched.

"I'm sorry, too, Edward," Bella said softly. "I'm sorry you lied. I'm sorry you were such a coward that you couldn't break my heart in one clean, quick break. I'm sorry that I let myself ache for you, that I almost let the most wonderful man in the world get away from me because I was too fucking hung up on you..." She closed her eyes. "But mostly, I'm sorry that it doesn't change a damned thing. I'm sorry for you, because even after everything that happened, I hate seeing you in pain."

Hope soared in my heart until I got a good look at her eyes.

"I'm not lying to you Edward when I tell you that your lies destroyed everything we had," she said in a low voice. "It's gone. All of that is a memory that belongs to another person." She gestured toward the little living room where I heard the deep rumble of a broken man's voice and the answering, lilting voice of an imperfect child who had somehow changed something inside of me with a glance. It wasn't enough, and it was too late, but it was the truth. "They're my life now, Edward and that's how I want it – that's how I'll always want it."

"I don't believe you," I said. The darkness roused up again in me. I wanted to break her and use her broken pieces to give myself new life, to suck her dry of all the happiness and hope that she had no right to feel. I clenched my jaw and gave into the rage; I let it sweep through me with its cleansing agony. The fury was an old and trusted friend. "You can't prefer this shitty little life to what we had."

And then she laughed.