Huge thanks go to my friends, in particular mxpi1970 (my awesome beta), loopylou992 for her help and handholding with this chapter while I beat at the brick wall called writers block, and to my readers and reviewers, in particular the lovely CentauRita who never gave up hope.

I own nothing. Stephenie Meyer owns all.

All I Want to Hear

Chapter 9

The flight is short and filled with trepidation.

Carlisle's world is changing with every minute that passes. When the plane begins its descent, instead of staring straight ahead, his posture stiff, he concentrates on the feel of Edward's fingers wrapped around his, the steadying warmth of his touch keeping him fixed in the here and now.

They disembark at Terminal B, bypassing the busy luggage carousel, their meagre carryon in their hands. The airport is bustling with passengers, shouting over each other and waving at happy faces there to greet them. Some are striding through the crowds, briefcases in hand, an air of authority all around them that seems to clear their path, or so it appears to Edward. He stays close, knowing better than to show affection out in the open – especially here. This isn't home – this feels strange, exciting, and almost alien. The building isn't as grand as he expected, it looks outdated and tired, and yet all his head can think is 'This is New York! I'm here!' He is reminded of the last time he came to an airport and the heart-stopping reunion they had shared right there in front of the world and yet unnoticed by other oblivious individuals. The memory stirs his heart into overdrive.

He stays tight to Carlisle's shoulder, and they make for the taxi rank outside. No sooner have they arrived then an empty cab jerks to a stop. In a flurry of movement, Carlisle has the door open and the luggage inside, not willing to take the risk of having to wait longer. Edward scrambles in and Carlisle follows, leaning forward to speak to the cabbie, only breathing easy once the door slams closed.

"You don't use the shuttle buses then?" A smile quirks Edward's lips until he sees his lover shudder. "Sorry – I was just thinking how much it must cost to take cabs everywhere." His thumb rubs a comforting rhythm around Carlisle's knuckles.

"I'd rather use cabs. I like the anonymity of them." To Edward, Carlisle seems tightly wound, uncomfortable here on his home ground when this must surely be more familiar to him than Maine. Or was that now no longer the case? Is there a chance that this place, the specific place where he has chosen to hide away, has become unfamiliar territory, with strangers around every corner and no friendly faces to be found?

Edward's eyebrows pinch together, fresh worry blossoming anew for the first time since leaving Maine.

The cab ride is long and quiet, Edward studying Carlisle's unhappy face and wanting so much to reassure him. He does not want to overstep the mark and hopes that his presence alone is enough to offer some comfort until they arrive at his apartment, close the door on the outside world, and relax. He wants to burrow under the surface a little and learn more about the New York Carlisle he first met in that dark hotel room, the lost and lonely man who chooses this busy metropolis in which to hide away.

The cab pulls to a stop outside one of what seems to Edward to be an endless sea of tall, imposing buildings. The blue awning over the lobby door bears the address; Edward smiles to himself. Do rich folk get lost easily or does every street, and every building, look the same here?

Carlisle is paying the driver and climbing out, Edward hot on his heels. No time to look around, they enter the building and head to the elevator.

"So which level is...?" Edward doesn't finish the sentence, seeing Carlisle press the button for the ninth floor. Door closed, the elevator begins its ascent and Edward feels his lover relax in the confined space, the outside world no longer able to intrude. The doors slide open and Carlisle exits, key in hand. Edward glances around.

"It's quiet."

The door opens and he is ushered inside.

"My neighbours only live here for part of the year. It's pretty perfect. I don't know where they go – it's not like we talk."

Edward drops his bag inside the door and walks through the living space to the large window dominating the room. He points to the trees far below, people the size of ants walking even smaller dogs.

"Is that Central Park?"

Carlisle is still at the door, trying to process what he sees.

Edward. In my apartment.

"Yes." Struggling to make the images meld in his distracted mind, he heads away from the man he craves, the world around him becoming blurry and indistinct.

Edward turns to see him walking away carrying their bags. He follows him into a white room, almost empty save for a large bed and closet. Carlisle looks round to see Edward behind him, worry etched on his beautiful face. He hates that he is still causing him pain, but he is disoriented, out of focus and floundering. The words are soothing, yet hold an undertone of fear.

"What's wrong? Talk to me, Carlisle. Are you regretting bringing me here?"

"No, of course not... No." His buckled brow mocks his words, his eyes tight.

"Tell me about this place; did you deliberately set out to live so high up? It must be a nightmare if the elevator breaks down."

"I-I... I like to look down on the world, literally speaking. I don't feel a part of it anyway and this way it's almost like I'm not... a part of it, I mean. I watch the world go by, the day to day business of the city happening beneath me, and I feel numb."

Warm hands clasp his, holding his balance. He looks into concerned eyes, full of love – love for him.

"This isn't healthy. You need to be part of the world. If you can't do that here then why stay? It's poisoning you a little more every day – it's killing the man I love, and I can't bear that." He rests his cheek against Carlisle's, closing his eyes in the moment, feeling soft, rasping breaths against his ear, arms winding themselves around him in a fierce embrace.

They stand, wrapped around each other, both afraid to let go. Edward's whisper breaks the silence.

"Take me to bed; I want to hold you."

Together they shed their clothes, not hurrying, a simple exchange of power in the act of mutual unfastening and disrobing. Clothes fall to the floor, the sharp clatter of buttons, the clinks and whirrs of belts and zippers. The curtains are open, weak sunlight throwing gentle shadows across the wall. Edward gazes into Carlisle's eyes, gauging his discomfort, before reaching for him, feeling the pounding of his heart against his own chest. His hands ghost down the soft skin of his back, feeling the sheen of nervous sweat.

"Relax." His lips find the sweet hollow of his lover's throat, feeling the answering shudder ripple across his skin. "It's just us. No need to close the curtains up here. No one can see us."

Together they sink down onto the bed, kissing and stroking, each finding home in the other's comforting touch.

~o.O.o~

Edward pushes himself up on his elbow and looks down at his lover.

"This is a nice bed."

"I prefer yours. It has you in it."

"I'm here now though." His fingers caress the line of Carlisle's jaw before kissing him long and slow. "Where can we go tomorrow after your meeting?"

"You choose."

"Can we do the touristy thing? I've never been to the Big Apple."

Carlisle heart races; his casual response takes herculean effort.

"Okay then."

"Show me your city."

Carlisle has expected this.

"I hardly know it."

"Then let's discover it together."

The soft sounds of kisses fill the sunlit room.

~o.O.o~

Edward wakes to find the sunlight gone, the room darkening into early evening, and for a moment he is disoriented. A contented smile spreads across his face when he hears Carlisle's even breathing beside him, the novelty of waking up together always a wonderful experience he feels he will never tire of. Watching Carlisle sleep, he indulges the secret fantasy he holds onto tight during those times when they are apart. He sees them living together in Maine, where he has been promoted to day manager, working regular hours and spending all his free time with the man he loves. He sees Carlisle's name across the spines filling his bookshelves, his success their shared joy. He sees their friends' happiness at...

No.

He can't allow his mind to go farther than that, to build up hopes beyond those that have any possible potential. He loves this man so very much and cannot allow himself to push too hard, too fast. He fears even now that Carlisle will panic and run at the thought of major change. Edward wants a future with Carlisle, sees them as a couple, but has to have him on board, fully committed to wanting the same thing, to being together and seeing where it takes them. Carlisle's fears are huge barriers, his past a roadblock to their happiness. The demons must be exorcised.

Slipping out of bed, he makes his way to the spacious bathroom, catching sight of himself in the mirror as he turns to leave. Leaning in close, he sees the hickey low down on his neck, a memento of their shower the previous afternoon. His fingers touch the mark, loving the unbridled passion it represents, seeing his own eyes shine at the memory, his face flushing. The sound of rustling accompanied by the creaking of a wooden bed frame calls him back to the bedroom. Carlisle's face is sad and somehow vacant, his head registering his surroundings and believing himself to be alone. His sudden surprise when he sees a naked Edward is comical until he remembers where he is, where they are, his face now alight with the happiness that only love can bring.

Edward grins, lounging against the door post.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving. I'm guessing any food you might have had here would have walked out on its own by now. Where can we eat?"

Carlisle's face is frozen. Edward's flow is flawless.

"Or we could cook something. Is there a grocery store nearby?"

"The next street over has one I use. Or we could order in; delivery is fast. I have menus in the kitchen."

"Sure. " He disappears and returns within a minute, his hand clutching a sheaf of menus. "I could go for Italian... or maybe Chinese? What about you?"

Carlisle relaxes. "The Italian restaurant down the street is good. I'll ring through when you've decided."

Thirty minutes later, Carlisle answers the door to a delivery guy with a paper sack full of cartons of steaming food. Edward is quick to empty the bag whilst Carlisle tips the man. He receives a friendly grin in return; it appears that Carlisle is well known to the delivery staff at Casa Nonna. They eat with enthusiasm, the food tasting like heaven after both the flight and their recent exertions. Clearing away, Edward comments on something he has noticed.

"Do you cook much here? You seemed to enjoy it so much back in Maine."

Carlisle gives a crooked smile.

"Shopping here is a little different from what you're used to. Lack of space means regular visits to the stores, and most of the time it's easier to just order groceries online than face the crowds. Plus, ordering in from restaurants is simpler. I do cook, but only when I'm not working."

"But you're always working." Edward's tone holds a mild admonishment. "You need to make time for yourself." He crumples up the empty paper sack.

"I do – it's the time I spend thinking about you." Carlisle's voice is soft and vulnerable. Edward stills, looking over at his lover.

"Then think of me more often." His words are whispered.

Carlisle draws him into his arms, holding him close and inhaling the scent of his skin.

"When I think of you I'm inspired to do things other than cook."

Edward's soft moan is all the food that Carlisle's soul needs.

~o.O.o~

Carlisle is up early to prepare himself for the meeting. Edward stays behind, not wanting to venture out into the city until they can do so together. He knows that Carlisle will be back soon and fills his time with a hot shower and a look around the apartment now that he is alone. He has no intention of snooping, looking only at what is on display in the open space. What he realises is that there are no photos on display, no indication of family or childhood. He wonders if Carlisle has lost these items along the way, perhaps in a move. The picture on the wall is abstract, just colours in a pleasing sweep across the canvas. The bedroom is sparsely furnished, looking more like a hotel room than a personal refuge, the walls all white save for one, a restful blue above the head of the bed. The living space is dominated by a sofa and chair, the coffee table piled with aged books. A desk sits by the overstuffed bookshelves, an empty space in the centre the size of Carlisle's laptop. A phone, notebook and pot of pens all sit off to one side and Edward can see in his mind's eye the hours Carlisle spends in this space, finding the words to express his passion for the subject matter. Running his fingers across the chair back, he knows that if he were sitting here now he would be bringing him coffee and rubbing his tense shoulders.

He hopes the meeting is going well.

~o.O.o~

Edward is gazing out of the living room window when he hears the elevator stop outside. He is there to greet him the moment the door opens.

"Well? Is it all good?"

Carlisle nods, filling a glass with water and downing half in a couple of noisy gulps.

"He's happy with the book which is a relief. A few minor changes to make, but nothing I can't finish in good time."

Edward beams. "Fantastic! So does this mean you get to take a break before starting on the next one?"

Carlisle's chuckle is a joyous sound.

"Yes! I can have a little downtime before restarting. Not much though; you're only as memorable as your last book and I don't want to have too long a break between releases."

"So what you're saying is that I'm in love with a workaholic?"

"I'm afraid so. The upside is that I get to spend my free time with you."

"Now you're speaking my language. So what are we doing today?"

"I thought you wanted to see the Empire State Building and Central Park?"

Edward lights up. "I do!"

"Then I'll book tickets so we don't have to wait in line. We should do that this evening – the city will look spectacular."

For Carlisle, the thought of fighting his way down Fifth Avenue through the crowds leaves him in a cold sweat, the later booking enabling him to breathe easier. Now he just has to face Central Park during the height of the day on a glorious, sunny Saturday.

Hell on earth.

"Just a thought, but would you like to take the ferry over to Staten Island? You get a great view of all the Islands that way."

Edward thinks for a moment.

"Sounds fun, but I'd rather just walk and take in the sights if that's okay; maybe I'll get a souvenir for Kate too."

Carlisle psyches himself up.

"That's a great idea. Let's get started. I'll book the tickets."

He hopes his smile does not look forced, his love for Edward driving him forward. The booking completed, he sees Edward's outstretched hand and takes it; together they catch the elevator and head outside for the park across the street. Carlisle's overriding instinct is to let go of the warm hand he is holding the minute they are on the sidewalk. Edward has expected this and hopes to persuade him that they are doing nothing wrong. He whispers to him, a mantra to keep him relaxed.

"It's okay - just breathe. No one knows us. No one is looking at us. But if they were - believe me - they'd just be jealous of me being out with you."

He feels Carlisle's grip loosen on his, not pushing him away exactly, but making the contact appear casual and inconsequential. Edward does not fight him, but does not let go until his fingers slip free. They cross the street and enter the lushness of the park, walking for a few minutes in silence until they stop at Strawberry Fields to look at the monument strewn with flowers. While they stand together, Edward feels Carlisle's tentative touch, his fingers capturing his own and interlacing. Edward senses the hesitation in his demeanour when people approach, also looking at the mosaic; Carlisle is tense, fearing a confrontation.

Looking at his profile in the dappled light, Edward sees his expression change to confusion when the other people walk away, no sign of disgust or disapproval on their faces. Edward gives his fingers a light, reassuring squeeze.

"We both know this is perfectly natural and nothing to be ashamed of. You're not ashamed of loving me, are you?"

He waits for an answer, his anxious eyes trying to hide their need for acceptance. When Carlisle turns, Edward holds his breath.

"I could never be ashamed of how I feel about you. But being open around other people... it's so difficult – almost insurmountable."

He shakes his head. The heavy weight in Edward's chest shifts. There are many hurdles to overcome before their relationship can ever be celebrated.

The park is busy, the meadow full, and they walk on, their bodies almost touching. It is a telling moment when a couple of teenage boys walk by, arms wrapped around each others' waists, their faces wreathed in smiles for everyone to see, their love radiating outward in a joyous fog that could be felt by anyone close to them. One of them looks up and nods his head to his lover. They pause and turn to Carlisle and Edward.

"Hey. You guys look good together. First date?"

Their friendliness touches Edward deeply and he is compelled to respond, hoping that Carlisle will also stop.

"First time in New York; we weren't sure how open we could be, you know?"

The young men nod in understanding. "There are haters everywhere; it's how you choose to deal with that. A few people could use a reality check. We get our own back at Gay Pride – then we can kiss and cuddle and no one can do anything about it. The rest of the time..." he shrugs. "They can't stop me loving him so I choose to ignore them. Gotta go – have a good day, guys."

They continue walking, their path taking them towards the street and the promise of lunch. Both are thirsty, breakfast a distant memory. A short walk down the street, a bar promises free pizza slices with every beer; Edward smiles and points.

"Let's go kill two birds with one stone – beer and pizza!"

He heads off, looking back to see Carlisle hesitate before following. He notices the tight posture, senses the warning signs, and returns to his side, his presence offering security and protection from the world around them. Together they walk toward the sounds and aromas of the bar, seeing the place is not overly crowded, the lunch rush having already passed. They walk in, finding empty seats near the door, and claim the table. A waitress appears and they order drinks and food, Edward taking the lead, Carlisle sitting white-faced and quiet. Beneath the table, unseen by anyone who cares to look, Edward stills his lover's jigging knee, his anxieties leaking out into plain sight. He turns as if to make casual chat, his manner unobtrusive yet vital to their situation.

"Just imagine we're in Maine and Kate's about to come through that door with our order. She'll be missing us, you know."

The sharp inhalation beside him betrays the effort Carlisle is putting in to keep it together. It is only moments before their drinks arrive, along with paper plates bearing huge slices of pizza.

"Enjoy, gentlemen."

The pretty waitress tosses them a smile, open admiration for Edward written all over it. He chooses not to notice, both charmed and amused by her interest. Taking a bite of his food, he chases it with a mouthful of ice-cold beer and sighs. Beside him, Carlisle has reached for his own drink, taking frequent sips, his food as yet untouched. Under Edward's watchful eye he takes a bite of steaming pizza. He has to admit to himself that it's very good and he keeps at it, hunger registering for the first time since they sat down.

"What time did you book the Empire State tickets for?" Edward puts down the rest of his slice to swig his beer.

Carlisle checks his watch.

"We can go in an hour. It'll be dusk and the view will be amazing."

"So time for a bit of shopping before we go? Any ideas what I can buy Kate? I was thinking of something fun like a key fob with the Statue of Liberty on it – something like that. She won't expect anything, but I want to do it."

"I'm sure we can find something for her. She'll love anything you get because it will be from you."

His words raise a happy smile and he marvels at how lucky he is to have Edward at his side. He hadn't noticed the waitress at first, but the looks she is throwing their way now are unsubtle at best. He finishes his food and drains his beer, ready to leave. Edward stands and before he can make a move for his wallet, Carlisle has laid more than enough on the table, his gaze levelled at the hopeful girl across the bar, the message clear.

He's mine. Back off.

He almost feels bad for her when she looks defeated, but knows that given the chance she would only try again. It was the nature of the beast in NY – the single girls were always on the lookout for fresh meat. Standing on the sidewalk, he feels his brief control begin to slip and makes a decision. He hails a cab and they climb in, giving concise instructions to the driver. Edward is gazing out of the windows trying to take it all in, and before long they are at the epicentre of life in NY – Times Square. The bright lights are dazzling, the crowds a seething mass that have no beginning or end. The cab slows in traffic and Carlisle turns to Edward.

"This might be a good place for souvenirs."

Edward frowns, seeing the sheer volume of people in the square.

"It's a bit crowded." The understatement under any other circumstances would be laughable.

"It always is."

No more is said and soon Edward is seeing Bloomingdales outside his window, its windows lit with vibrant displays to entice shoppers. Up ahead he sees the Empire State Building and stares in awe.

"Wow! I can't believe we're going up that! It's incredible!"

His hand finds the one he seeks and he squeezes tight, communicating his enthusiasm. This will be a first for Carlisle too, this tour of New York introducing him to new experiences in the same way as Edward. The cab driver has to wait, and horns honk when he tries to pull in, the car in front refusing to move. A heated exchange through rolled down windows follows and Edward shakes his head.

"This place is crazy!"

Carlisle can't help but agree.

"We'll get out here, thanks." He checks the meter and pays, adding a healthy tip which Edward notices. He leans in and whispers in a confidential tone.

"I wish clients at the Dragonfly tipped half as well as you do."

They climb out and stand at the bottom of the famous landmark before heading for the lobby. Edward's head swivels to take it all in, their feet taking them to the elevators, a quick stop first through the metal detectors. Carlisle speaks to the operator and they head in, on their way to the 80th floor. Edward watches the floor numbers rise, excitement building minute by minute. When they land they find there is a wait for the second elevator to take them to the 86th floor and the observation deck so they opt for the stairs. Five minutes later they arrive. There are a lot of people, jovial jostling seeming to be the only way to acquire the best view. The crowds thin out somewhat a few minutes later, the cold air driving them inside once more and Edward makes the most of the opportunity to take a couple of photos of the city spread below them. Turning his back then he takes a smiling selfie before looking at Carlisle for permission. Leaning in, Carlisle allows him to take a picture of them both, secretly loving the gesture. Their first photo together as a couple; it's an auspicious moment.

Stepping off the elevator back on the ground floor, Carlisle cannot put off the moment he has dreaded any longer and they are soon in a cab headed back to Times Square for Edward to do his souvenir shopping. Edward is wide eyed and keen to look around, knowing this is his last day in New York and wanting to explore and create memories of them together. It is therefore unfortunate that the events that follow are not the kind he would ever want to relive.

Amid the bright lights and sounds that dominate the famous tourist destination, they leave the cab and join the stream of tourists mesmerised by the giant screens and seductive lure of Broadway. Edward spies a flower and gift store and heads in to find a cute memento of their trip for Kate. He checks that Carlisle is with him, keeping him close by while he makes his purchases. However, it is when they step outside again that trouble hits. Carlisle is surrounded by people in every direction and it is now that the suppressed panic attack he has managed to hold at bay suddenly grabs hold of him. The crowded, unfamiliar places he has avoided since living here become overwhelming, oppressive, the teeming streets and crowds closing in on him. He tries to communicate this to Edward, but finds it hard to breathe. Edward registers his terror and tries to dispel it, tries to focus him by holding his face in his hands, encouraging him to ignore everything else.

Carlisle's breathing escalates and Edward realises too late that he is losing him. He tries again to ground him in familiar things, to talk him down from his metaphorical ledge he is balanced on.

"How do you ever go out if you can't face being around all these people?"

Through gasps, Carlisle tries to answer.

"I shop at night when it's quieter. This... this..." he gestures around him, his face white, "is too much." He turns to bolt and finds Edward's arms around him, his words encouraging him to breathe, just breathe. No one is looking; they are both jostled and ignored, the incoming tide of people pouring around them in wide, sweeping ripples.

"I can't do this, I can't." For a second he is held, safe and protected, his head buried in Edward's shoulder; he finds the strong, reassuring touch of his lover to be a tower of strength. Then he remembers where he is and shoves Edward aside, his hysteria increasing, his imagined fears of ridicule escalating in the face of perceived public disgust. Without thought, driven by blind panic, Carlisle hails the nearest cab and jumps in, giving directions to the driver before slumping back in the seat fighting for breath. Edward stumbles, caught off guard, saddened yet not surprised at this outcome.

I pushed too hard.

He stands alone in the unfamiliar, crowded square, his lover already lost to view.

~o.O.o~

He paces up and down, making a conscious effort not to worry about Carlisle and failing in spectacular fashion. His mind skitters, unsure of his next move, not wanting to inflame an already delicate situation. He stills, turning to look at the passersby, searching for a familiar face in the vain hope that Carlisle will return for him. The early evening glow from the store windows illuminates the sidewalks, spilling shadows where the light cannot reach. It is cold and Edward is growing scared that he will not be able to find his way back to Carlisle's apartment, having no address in his head to give to a cab driver other than the upper west side. He checks his phone at regular intervals, but finding no messages he heads to a store where he can at least stand still without being swept along.

He messages Carlisle, hoping and praying for a response:

*I don't know how to get back. What is your address?*

When no answer comes through, he tries again:

*Carlisle – please answer me. It's cold out here and I'm lost.*

It is with some relief that his phone pings a couple of minutes later, a simple address appearing on the screen. Tucking his phone into his pocket along with his souvenirs, he hails a cab and heads back to the apartment to deal with whatever awaits him.

~o.O.o~

Carlisle arrives home and heads straight up to his floor, driven onward by the need to be in safe surroundings. It is a sad truth that he has forgotten Edward in his panic, remembering him only when the door closes and his phone chirps. The crashing realisation of what he has done sends him into a temporary stupor, his eyes staring at the message in his hand with no idea of what to do. Returning is unthinkable – he can no sooner return than fly to the moon – but his whirling mind struggles to find a solution. The second message galvanises him into action; his Edward is scared and alone and it's his fault. He pulls himself together and sends him the address, desperate to have him home yet having no clue of how he will ever be able to apologise for such an action.

Minutes later he hears the elevator and opens the door to let his lover inside. Edward wants to rail at him, to ask him how he could just abandon him in a strange place with no way of finding his way back, but he stays silent and waits. Carlisle is expecting anger and is unprepared instead for this reaction. In all honesty, he expects Edward to want to leave both New York and him, to forget about them and get on with his life, to live his own dreams without being weighed down by the problems of another.

Edward stands just inside the door and watches him with sorrow, seeing the plea for understanding in the depths of those forlorn eyes, and cannot find it in his heart to lose his temper. It is clear to him now that Carlisle had simply reached his coping boundaries while trying to give Edward everything he wanted. In that moment, Edward feels gratitude that Carlisle has tried no matter what it cost him, and conversely feels guilt at having allowed things to progress so far, in not truly seeing just how much of a struggle it had been for him to do what regular people take for granted. He knows how far Carlisle has come since they met, but today's setback has been hard, Carlisle's panic attack a shock to them both, and Edward realises more than ever that he wants to get him back to Maine and never let him return to this place that scares him so.

That night they bare their souls to each other, all painful truths broken open in the hope that healing can finally begin.

~o.O.o~