Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Ahhh…live has suddenly become a b*tch and writing time has gone the way of the DoDo. Well, that's not entirely true, I've had the time, but thanks to personal crap going on with a crazy Aunt, the words just won't come when I try to write. Then to make matters worse, my son overflowed the toilet in his bathroom this morning and didn't tell me. I found out only when I heard the water dripping in the basement. I ran downstairs to find out what was wrong only to slip and fall down a few of them and sprain my ankle. So now, I'm unable to do anything and am all achy and grouchy…and even now, while stuck in a chair with my leg propped up, no words!

WARNING: In the meantime, this chapter will cause a pretty good case of heartfail. The next chapter is already written. I have decided to be kind, and will post it on Wednesday so you won't have to wait a whole week to find out what happens next. A very small teaser, yet still should help belay your fears a tad, is up on my blog. Acullenwannabe dot blogspot dot com. With any luck, inspiration will strike this week or else I may not have any updates for you next week :( I'll do my best to keep you updated in the form of blog posts and twitter updates. In the meantime, here is this update. Thanks as always to my beta AgoodWITCH! TTYL!


The Mysteries of Time

I couldn't help but think how strange it was that time seemed to trickle by in slow motion in one respect and yet pass in a flash in others. Each passing week between letters seemed to stretch on for an eternity as I strained my patience watching for the next bit of news from Edward, to know he was okay, to know he was safe. Weeks seemed like months and months seemed like years.

For every perceived decade I spent waiting for word from my husband, the opposite phenomenon was happening with my daughter. It seemed like she was developing and flourishing within blinks of my eyes. In the course of a day it sometimes seems she had developed new skills that should take months. Her smiles became giggles, her relatively immobile body began to roll, then sit up, and then eventually crawl, and her understanding of the world around her grew more encompassing every day. It was astounding to watch as we all did our best to document as much as possible for her Daddy who was missing it all.

By her nine month 'birthday' in October, our little Cherie had already begun pulling herself up to stand and walking around while holding onto the fingers of an adult. We all knew it was simply a matter of days before she would take off on her own. I was so excited to see it, always marveling at every advancement she made, but at the same time, they always made me sad for poor Edward, still fighting so far from home.

As for Edward, it seemed like his letters had morphed into running commentary responses to the updates we sent on Cherie. He had yet to hold her in his arms, and yet it was obvious that our little girl was already his whole world. The best part of all was that he got to dream of her and I just as we dreamed of him.

I had sobbed when the first letter came, almost exactly three weeks to the day from Cherie's birth. The date in the upper right hand corner was the morning after she was born, when he told me all about an elaborate dream he had about me giving birth and how much he wanted to beat down a nurse who was being quite rude to me. I immediately wrote him back telling him that his dream had actually happened.

The next week, he had outlined another dream of sleeping in bed with me and I told him that it was a girl and we named her Gabriella Cherie…once again the letter laid out like a screenplay for our interaction.

It took about five weeks before all the correspondence back and forth left us astounded at what could no longer be denied. We undoubtedly had a connection that could not be dismissed. The next letter after the realization was established, I got a letter from Edward begging me to tell him that his worst nightmare had not been true, and that if it were that I had not kept it from him all this time. I sobbed as I replied to the letter admitting that his nightmare about James trying to attack me had been real and begged his forgiveness and outlining my reasons for withholding the information.

He understood, in a respect, but it had led to about a month worth of stiff letters between us as we hashed out the upset as best we could. It was so much harder having a two to three week lag in response to such emotionally charged material, leaving both of us weeks to wallow in the concern over the other's reactions.

After we worked our way past that, it all got so much better, and now our letters were always filled with so much happiness and good news, only marred by the sadness that he could not be at our side to experience it all first hand.

November 8th, 1944, over a year after the chaos that moved us all to Chicago, the Volturi brothers finally faced the trial regarding their activities during the months between when Edward left to serve his country until I showed up at their board meeting, the newly vested controlling stockholder in the company to stop their misdeeds. They had expensive, high powered attorneys at their side, but in the end, there was simply too much hard evidence against them not to sentence them. Both brothers were sentenced to twenty-five years in Joliet without parole. Apparently, you don't mess with the government during a war and manage to be capable of getting out early on good behavior.

Throughout the entire trial, Marcus and I along with our friends and most important coworkers attended every day and each of us took the stand to testify. I felt such relief when the verdict was read, but it quickly died in my chest as while the others cheered in delight, Aro cast a hateful glare my way that sent shivers down my spine. I couldn't help but hope against hope that his reach would not be able to extend beyond the walls of the prison yard or else I might find myself still in danger.

Once they were convicted, a 'family' meeting was called to order, which included my family, friends, and bodyguards. After much debate, it was finally decided that the around the clock security who had been at my side for more than a year was no longer necessary. Instead, at my suggestion, the guys were all offered jobs at Cullen Steel. With the new advancements in the R&D department, new security was needed to keep our newest research projects as safe as possible.

Rosalie and her team were truly proving their genius as they pushed ever closer toward a new way of making durable metals that would ultimately weigh less, the end result would be faster, sturdier planes that would be the new wave of the future, allowing planes to move much more quickly through the air. They already had preliminary talks running with two companies looking into the development of jet engine technology. Between the genius of Rose's team and the engine development groups they had their way, the next war we entered would be one much more quickly resolved by a new breed of peacekeeping airplanes.

Professionally, Cullen Steel was doing better than it had in more than three years. Finally, we had a company that we all felt we would be proud to return into my husband's capable hands when he returned home. Not that he cared, he was far more interested in returning to his family, which made me happier than pretty much anything, but it still felt good to know we had done it for him nonetheless.

Everything was going well back home. With the exception of missing Edward and worrying about him while he was away, the clouds had cleared and things were truly looking up. I should have known that the sunshine can only stay for so long before another storm blows through the ruin the peace.

For months and months, I had nothing but good dreams about Edward. Each and every one, even when I was riding with him was positive. Edward had never told me anything about escorting bombers on raids, because it wasn't allowed, but I knew because I was there. I was always spared the rough parts though, only getting to ride through the white fluffy clouds, seeing the bright blue sky engulfing the forms of massive bombers dotting the horizon with small fighters like Edward's hovering throughout to deal with any Nazi fighters who tried to intercept them. I rode through a few exchanges with the Nazi planes, but none of them were nearly as terrifying as the first dream. The fighters would circle just outside of the actual drop zone, staying clear of the flack that filled the air in the distance through which the bombers shuddered and jerked until they reached their targets and dropped their bombs at which point the fighters would rejoin them to escort them home.

In dreams like these, I finally began to think positively about the war, believing we were reaching the end as the bombers went in and leveled production facilities throughout Germany, Romania, and many other surrounding areas. Finally, it seemed like we might just be seeing results, and I think perhaps I started to get too cocky as well, convinced he would be home soon.

That was until the night of December 21, 1944, the night that my blood ran cold in my veins as I watched in horror before I awoke screaming at the top of my lungs.

The first part all went according to plan. We floated in, chased around a handful of fighters, shot down four on our own and rejoined the bombers on the return run. When the water in the distance showed on the horizon as the sun began to rise, we both relaxed into our seats, knowing that it wouldn't be long before we were touching down on the English shore.

We couldn't have been more than thirty miles from the shoreline of the channel over the Netherlands when a squadron of Nazi fighters came up on us from the South. With a few loud curses, the fighters turned to engage and protect the bombers as they finished the distance to the airbase in Norwich from which they had left. It was perilous for everyone since all of the fighters were extremely low on fuel. They needed to get back as desperately as the bombers, but with the current strategy the bombers were more important because they were literally leveling Hitler's manufacturing capabilities.

The world blurred into a orange lit glow as the sun shone dimly along the Eastern horizon as he rolled and shifted, we took out one, two, three fighters before shooting one of Emmett's tail and redirecting the one about to nab Jasper. Jasper's trailer, however, was a superior pilot to the boys they had been encountering up to that point. For every move Edward made, he countered, staying on our tail until he had a clean shot.

Within moments we went from going up and leveling out to losing control as we began to fall quickly toward the ground. Yelling voices in the radio told us that the tail was completely shot off, Edward had to eject immediately. He fumbled for the ejection handles, yanking the picture of me holding Cherie off the gauges before a loud bang exploded and he shot away from me into the air.

As I sat up and screamed, my hands clutched tightly over my tear stained face, Alice and Rose busted through the door and ran to my side, soothing me with words and touches that I could not feel or hear. I needed to go back to sleep, to make sure he was okay, to find out WHERE he was, but my heart was pounding with the adrenaline rushing through my body as my breath wheezed in my chest. I couldn't stop screaming and crying.

I vaguely heard Rose yell for Alice to call Carlisle as I continued to wail, shaking my head as I shivered atop my mattress as time didn't creep, but rather seemed to halt.

*****

Esme paced the living room with Cherie as I rocked on the couch. From the looks on everyone's faces, I must have appeared as frantic as I felt. My hand trembled as I clutched them around my legs, my knees tucked under my chin.

"It was real. I know it. I….I just KNOW it, Carlisle."

Carlisle sighed. "Bella, there is no way you could know that. With the Volturi gone and the business doing so well and Cherie letting you sleep through the night, maybe your mind is just now free enough to fully manifest your fears as nightmares."

I shook my head so hard as he spoke that my stringy hair whipped back and forth across my face. "No, Carlisle. I don't know how to make you believe this, but I could feel it. I could feel him. I'm not sure where we were when he was shot down, but we were in airspace near Amsterdam when we were engaged. I lost track of where we drifted from there, but it was real! He was so close! I know he ejected, but I don't know what area he was in, how far from the channel, and even if he can reach the channel, how would he ever get back across? Oh God!"

I buried my face in my knees and sobbed while Rose and Marcus began phoning Marcus's contacts in the military. It would be useless. With so much going on over there and so many men MIA, the likelihood that we could get any information would be slim to none, but they insisted on trying.

I closed my eyes and prayed my heart out until I heard Cherie fussing across the room from where she had been sleeping on Esme's shoulder. I opened my eyes to see her arching her back and grunting, trying to get down. Esme finally settled her on the floor as she stood, staring at me with her huge green eyes, glimmering with anxiety. She was worried about me, which broke my heart.

She glanced around and I could tell from the look on her face, she was looking for something to hold onto to steady her as she walked across to me from the far side of the room, but there was nothing besides the wall where she was. She looked from Esme, who looked distracted out the window toward the lake, her hand fisted over her mouth as she tried not to cry, and then back to me before she held her hands in front of her and began to rock side to side before she managed to take a waddling step in my direction.

I watched in quiet bewilderment as a light of realization illuminated in her eyes and with determination she began to toddle unsteadily toward me, her hands in front of her to catch herself if she fell forward. I gasped, drawing everyone's attention to me before their eyes drifted to the object of my focus, a chorus of small gasps following their new view as eleven month old Cherie took three steps before losing her balancing and leaning forward to place her hands on the floor. She squatted for a moment before standing up again and taking a few more.

Everyone cheered for her making her beam even more brightly, a beautiful distraction from our desperate pain for the briefest of shining moments. She continued the same way twice more before reaching the coffee table which she held with one hand to steady herself as she sped her steps with the added balance to reach me more quickly. I smiled sadly down at her when she reached me, sweeping her into my arms and holding her close, kissing her rosy cherub cheeks as she cooed at me, rubbing her chubby little hand down my arm comfortingly.

I held her closely, sobbing as I rocked her back and forth on the couch. She didn't move to leave me, as we rocked back and forth without end. The sun rose slowly as I continued to hold her. Alice eventually took her to change and feed her as I stayed in my spot, gripping my arm across my waist to hold myself together as best I could.

When the baby was fed and dressed, Alice brought her back to me, settling her in my arms. Cherie relaxed into me, resting her head against my chest as we still waited for some kind of word, anything. Everyone tried to get me to leave the couch, to eat, to dress, to use the restroom, but I wouldn't move…I couldn't.

The smells of lunch were floating on the air when I heard an anxious deep tone echoing from the telephone stand. Seconds later, the bell in the housing of the phone rang dimly as the mouthpiece was slammed down seconds before stomping feet ran into the living room where I still sat.

"It happened…it really did happen. Jasper and Emmett radioed in the approximate location that he went down in Belgium. Thankfully, it was in a section of the Belgium countryside not currently occupied by Nazi troops. They're trying to get authorization to go after him, but without an exact location, they aren't allowing it. There is a supply route that goes through that area. Everyone has been told to keep an eye out for him. With any luck, he will get a ride home soon with one of the supply trains."

I gasped on the couch, taking shaky breaths and praying Marcus was right and he was safe where he was. If he wasn't injured when he landed, hopefully he was okay and making his way to the channel. My stomach churned painfully, wishing I could go back to sleep. Maybe if I could, I would be able to get a definite location….something…anything was better than nothing.

Time ticked by, each second seeming to span a thousand years. He had to come back to us…he just HAD to!