"Life must be rich and full of loving-it's no good otherwise, no good at all, for anyone." –Jack Kerouac, Selected Letters, 1940-1956

OtO

There were two times in my life up until that night when I had to make a decision that would drastically change the path I was headed down. The first was in the shadows of the buildings on Poindexter Street so many years ago when I pulled Edward to me and kissed him, not sure if he would kiss me back or punch me. The second was the morning just a few months ago when I woke up, suddenly struck with the overwhelmingly clear knowledge that I had to come back. There was no question in my mind that I needed to be here on this island. I think at the time I was confused as to the capacity in which Edward needed me. But sitting out under the waning crescent moon, listening to the cicadas chirp and wondering if he was still slumped on the floor inside, I realized that it wasn't about him needing me or me needing him. It was about us needing each other.

He was right; depending on each other for happiness was a battle that would kill us both. When I let go of that responsibility it seemed very clear that maybe we could make it work. I wasn't going to sit by and watch him self-destruct, but maybe if he didn't feel pressured by me to be whatever kind of perfect existed in his fucked up mind we could stop trying to be right for each other and just work on being right for ourselves.

So with a slightly skewed sense of hope, I stood up off the sagging stairs and went back inside for him. He was still slouched on the floor by the bedroom door, his body shaking every time he drew a breath. I could hear the rattling in his chest as he inhaled and then exhaled and all of the fight and anger and bitterness rushed out of me as I dropped to the floor beside him. He was so, so broken and at that moment all I wanted was to make him better.

"Baby, I'm sorry," I whispered as I cupped his face in my hands and lifted his head so that I could see his eyes. They were empty as he squeezed them shut tight in pain, trying to catch his breath.

"It's ok," he whispered back hoarsely. "I'm done. I can't do this anymore. I'm so tired."

I pushed the hair off of his forehead and leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on the gash above his eye.

"I know. But I'm not leaving. I promise, Edward." I tried to keep my voice from shaking even though I was terrified.

"So what then? Pity?" he replied. He tried to take a deep breath but started coughing, spitting up blood as his body was racked with pain.

"No, not pity. Love? I don't know. What does it matter?"

"It doesn't, I guess," he said as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He sounded clearer after the coughing spell and the noise in his chest was quieter. I stood up and went to retrieve a wet cloth from the kitchen. Wiping the blood and sweat from this face, I helped him stand and we made our way into the bedroom where I got him out of his clothes and into bed. Once he was situated, I crawled in next to him and he wrapped his body around me, linking his fingers through mine as I pulled him even closer and held him as tightly as I could.

OtO

The heat woke me the next morning. Edward hadn't moved in the night and was still draped heavily across my body, but he was sleeping soundly and the noise in his chest was gone. I started to slip out from underneath of him, but he tightened his grip on me and sighed contentedly. I fell back onto the pillow and started running my fingers through his sweaty hair as he smiled and relaxed back into a deep sleep.

I began to talk to him in a quiet whisper, remembering days on the beach, dances and parties, fast Banker ponies and friends that we'd made. I told him about things that had happened in Chapel Hill; the crazy cases I had seen come into the clinic, the three-legged dog who hung around outside of my little house there, how much I missed him when the honeysuckle bloomed and made me think of the wild vines that grew up the side his mother's porch. I talked about my students and the other professors and how I didn't think I would miss it when I didn't go back in August. I told him I figured the animals on the island could probably use a somewhat decent doctor to stitch them up and vaccinate them and that his little family alone would probably keep me in good business. And then I just stopped talking and listened to his soft snores and the purring cats who were sharing our bed and the rumbling in my stomach when I realized I was starving.

I tried to crawl out from under him again and was successful so I pulled on a pair of shorts and tip-toed into the kitchen. It was too hot to cook so I started cutting up tomatoes, cucumbers and onions, pulled cold fish out of the refrigerator and cut up a cantaloupe that had been left on the porch. I was slicing through a pan of leftover cornbread when Edward shuffled out of the bedroom. He was wearing only his boxers and his hair was sticking up on end all over the place. He was covered in bruises and spots of dried blood and had at least two days worth of unshaven scruff covering the sharp angles of his jaw. There was a look of confusion on his face like he'd just woken up from a bad dream or a five-day drunk and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Why are you laughing at me?" he asked, smiling as he scratched his belly.

"You're a mess," I replied, shaking my head. "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah, starving," he said as he walked over. He surprised me with a hug, burying his face in the crook of my neck and then kissing the spot right behind my ear that made me shiver. I squeezed back, happy for the connection.

"I moved some of your shit off the table so we could actually sit down if we wanted to," I told him as I took a step back and grabbed a plate. He just grinned kind of shyly at me as he balanced three bowls and a bottle of beer in his arms and walked over to sit down.

We ate in comfortable silence. I only broke it once to tell him that allowing the cat to sit on the table and eat off his plate would probably give his mother a stroke if she were here. He just shrugged and tossed a piece of fish to the gray-striped tomcat as he linked his bare feet around my ankles under the table. We finished eating, unhurried, content with each other's company and content with whatever agreement it was we reached last night. I wasn't sure exactly what that agreement was and I don't think he was either, but the air around us seemed lighter.

"So you're not going back?" he asked suddenly. I didn't realize he had been listening to me earlier; he seemed deep in sleep, but I should have known better than to think my words were just ending up lost in his dreams.

"No, I don't think I am. Actually, I know I'm not. You're my home and that's where I want to be," I told him, startling myself with my honesty. He didn't respond, just smiled one of his rare, genuine smiles and leaned back in his chair. He nodded his head slowly as he absently drew circles into the old pine-topped table with his finger and let my decision wash over him.

"I'm glad," he finally responded. And that was that. We were moving forward despite ourselves. I was thrilled, overwhelmed with happiness and relief and scared shitless.

"Me too. Really and truly," I said. "So are you planning on ever showering again? I feel like that might help improve your outlook on a life a little."

"I'm kinda gross, huh?" he laughed. "Yeah, I guess. But only if you join me," he said more soberly, looking at me with just the corner of his mouth turned up into the slightest grin. I was done denying and done over-thinking, so I just stood up and reached my hand out to him. He grasped it and squeezed hard, letting me lead him into the bathroom.

The shower inside was rarely ever used during the summer; no one wanted a hot shower and the one on the side of the house was more convenient anyway. But it wasn't private and I suddenly needed Edward in a way that required four walls and no prying eyes. I reached in and turned the water on, letting it warm up as I pulled him to me and kissed him.

He groaned and wrapped his arms around my waist, his hands resting on my ass as he pulled me even closer. His tongue slipping into my mouth was my undoing; I was suddenly ravenous for anything he would give me. I reached down and slipped my hand under the waistband of his boxers, taking his hot erection in my hands as the air steamed up around us. He thrust up with a whimper as I tightened my hold on him and twisted my hand around the head of his cock, already slick with pre-cum. He broke the kiss and collapsed against me as I continued to stroke him, shuddering at the contact that we had both been missing and craving so badly. I used my other hand to undo my shorts; as soon as I wriggled out of them his hands were on me, mimicking my own. We ground against each other, sweaty, needy, and frantic as we bit and kissed and sucked whatever skin we could come in contact with.

He dropped to his knees taking me in his mouth and I fell back against the sink, overwhelmed with my desire and lust and love for him. He took my entire shaft into his mouth; I hit the back of his throat as he reached up and cupped my balls before moving his hand even further back and running his fingers along the length of my crack. He licked and sucked and grazed me with his teeth, causing me to buck wildly into his mouth. My dick started to twitch and he grinned around it before swallowing me whole one last time. I saw stars as my orgasm overtook me, leaving me a shaking mess as he swallowed and then licked his way back up my cock.

He stood then and kissed me; I tasted myself on him and my dick started to stir again. His erection was pressed tight against my stomach as I started to lower myself to return his favor. I didn't waste any time, taking his entire length into my mouth and sucking hard as he gasped and thrust into my mouth. He fell forward and rested his hands on the edge of the sink, stabilizing himself as I flattened my tongue against him and slowly worked up to the head of his cock.

Twisting and pulling with one hand, I slid back down with my mouth, slow enough to make him impatiently shove his hips towards me. My intent wasn't to tease him, though, so I braced myself by wrapping one arm around his waist and looked up at him, silently giving him permission to start fucking my mouth. He growled and thrust into me; I almost gagged but relaxed enough for him to slide what seemed like halfway down my throat. He stilled for a split second to make sure I was ok and then began to rock back and forth again as I used my free hand to tease his entrance. I felt him start to throb in my mouth and slipped one and then two slick fingers into him, curling up and brushing against his prostate just twice before he exploded with a groan.

When he began to go soft I dropped him and stood up, our mouths crashing against each other with so much need and force that he fell back against the wall. He broke the kiss and we stood holding onto each other, our skin slick with sweat and our chests heaving with exertion. He began to cough then and I pulled away from him as he doubled over and tried to catch his breath.

"Sit, sit Edward," I told him. He slid down the wall and continued to cough with his head between his knees. Drops of red started to fall onto the bathmat below before he finally stopped and took a shuddering breath. My eyes locked onto the blood staining the white rug as he continued to catch his breath. It wasn't right, even if he did have a broken rib or some kind of internal bruising. When I finally looked back up at him, he avoided my gaze, wiping his mouth as he pulled himself up by the towel rack.

"I'm ok," he wheezed, running his hands through his hair. "I'm ok." He leaned down and offered me his hand, pulling me up so that I was standing face to face with him again. He kissed me softly; his lips tasted like copper and salt and I still had no words for any of what had just happened. He pulled me into the shower and we silently washed each other, kissing and loving and healing under the spray of lukewarm water. When we were finished, we dried each other off and made our way back into our bed, ignoring the heat and wrapping ourselves around each other before we both drifted back to sleep.

OtO

The second time I woke up it was to someone pounding on the door. I groaned and rolled out of Edward's arms, pulling on a pair of shorts and stumbling my way towards the front of the house.

"Christ, I'm coming," I muttered as I tripped over a stack of books and stepped on a cat's tail, sending him flying out an open window. I finally made it to the front door and pulled it open, coming face to face with Betty Meads who looked like she was about to blow a gasket.

"Carlisle Cullen!" she exclaimed. "I don't know what the two of you have goin' on over here but we just got down from Elizabeth City and there's a horse under our house. A horse, Carlisle! Now I'm not spendin' all summer puttin' up with whatever it is you two are up to. I'm not!"

When she stopped to take a breath I jumped in. "Mrs. Meads, I'm sorry. I'll run over and collect the horse right now. We're fixin' to put up a fence so it won't be a problem again. As for anything else you might be referrin' to, I suggest that you mind your own damn business," I told her, laying on the accent and smiling as I shoved past her and slammed the door shut behind me.

She hurried after me, still screeching about how the cats better not kill her chickens and she better not see any odd comings and goings in the middle of the night. I ignored her and whistled for Ripper, who immediately trotted out from under the house with a snort and shake of his head.

"Carlisle, I am not kidding! I will call Sheriff Basnight just as sure as I'm standin' here, you mark my words! I know the two of you are up to no good. I've seen Lester Jennings leave outta there after carrying in crates of what I just know were liquor," she continued as I tossed a lead rope over the horse's neck and started to lead him back home. "And furthermore, don't think that you have anyone fooled. You and that Masen boy are living in sin. Sin! And if I have anything to say about it-"

"That's enough!" I snapped at her. "It is none of your goddamn business and I don't give two flying shits what you have to say about it. I can assure you that these horses will not set foot on your property again. Besides that, I have no other business with you."

"Well I have never," she huffed, her face a mixture of shock and disgust. She narrowed her eyes at me, but kept her mouth shut as she turned and headed back towards her house.

I watched her go for a moment before turning back to Ripper and leading him to the other side of our house. Digging through a bucket of junk sitting on the corner of the porch, I found two halters and tied him and Whistle up to the railing. I filled a bucket with water and gave them both some grain before collapsing onto the stairs. I was absolutely fucking exhausted. The last thing I needed to deal with was that woman and her nosy meddling just proved to me that people knew Edward and I were more than just good friends. I was terrified of what that would mean for us in the future, especially once it became apparent that I wasn't leaving anytime soon. There were far more Betty Meads in the world than there were people who were accepting or at the very least willing to turn a blind eye.

"Jesus Christ," Edward said from behind me, startling the shit out of me. "I thought that old bitch would never leave." He sat down next to me and began to slice an apple, tossing the pieces to the horses.

"We need to be careful. Did you hear her? She threatened to call the sheriff."

Edward just snorted and rolled his eyes. "It's like this every summer with her. She's always up in arms about some silly thing or another. Harvey Basnight is quite happy with the whiskey he gets for a very, very discounted price. I don't think he's going to be showing up here to bother me anytime soon."

"Well, that may be. But if enough people complain about us living here in sin, as Betty so eloquently put it, we might have bigger things to worry about."

"Like what? Someone burning a cross in the yard or giving us dirty looks when we go buy groceries? I could care less, Carlisle. Those people aren't worth the time it takes to worry about them."

"Well, that's a very idyllic world view."

He shrugged and smiled up at me. "Maybe. I believe I'll go for a ride," he said, standing up and stretching. He grabbed two bridles off of a hook by the door and tossed one at me as he hopped over the porch and untied Ripper from the railing. I followed him, bridling Whistle and swinging my leg over him as Edward turned towards the ridge. Urging my horse into a trot, we caught up to them and crossed the road together, heading to the sand dunes in front of us.

Jockey's Ridge was named for the horse races that used to take place down its steep slopes, but you rarely saw that anymore. When the island was still a wild and largely uninhabited place, Bankers use to hobble mules and tie a lantern to their necks, walking them up and down the crest of the hill, mimicking a ship at sea. Weary ship captains would head towards the light, not realizing that they were actually sailing straight to land and wreck their vessels on the shallow, treacherous shoals right off the coast. The Bankers would plunder the wreck for anything of value and many of the houses on the island were built with wood salvaged from those shipwrecks, including the one I had been sleeping in for the last month. In recent years, the dune had become a destination for tourists and locals; a place to fly a kite, watch the sun set over the Sound, steal a first kiss. There were smaller ridges surrounding it with names like Engagement Hill, Pin Hill, and Run Hill and beyond them a flat stretch of land where the first hotel was built on the island after the Civil War.

As we began our ascent up the big dune, the horses dug their bare feet into the soft sand and huffed their way up diagonally until we reached the peak. From there you could see clear to Bodie Island to the south and Kill Devil Hills to the north. In front of us was the Sound and beyond that the mainland, while behind us stretched the Atlantic. We were alone at the top of the world, on an island at the center of the universe. I looked over to Edward, who was surveying the view around him, completely at home surrounded on all four sides by the landscape that was so much a part of his soul. The setting sun back-lit his silhouette, causing it to look like he was on fire as his painted horse pawed and snorted, anxious to keep moving, moving, moving. He checked the reins several times before he looked at me with a slight nod and then leaned forward, silently granting his horse permission to race down the embankment towards the fresh water ponds below us.

Go I whispered to Whistle and we took off after them.

a/n

Thank you Suz. I couldn't do this without you. I couldn't do a lot of things without you, tbh.

If any of the local history or terms trip you up, please let me know. I didn't want to explain it to death in the story, but I also want it to be clear. Hit me up with a PM or on twitter and we can chat. Also, I'm using very common local surnames but the characters are totally a product of my imagination; the secondary characters are not based on specific people. Just throwin' that out there in case anyone is like "OMG my grandma's name was Betty Meads and she was NOT a bitch!" ;)

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Wishing everyone a happy holiday (or a happy end of December if you don't celebrate). Until next time. xo