A/N: I only work two days this week! So random.

Edward put a firm hand to Carlisle's knee, stopping it from bouncing. He rubbed his knee, glancing at him affectionately. "Are you nervous?" he asked, keeping his tone light.

Carlisle huffed. "I'm okay."

"Really? Because you kind of look like you're going to blow chunks."

Carlisle's lips twitched. The moment of wry amusement passed, and his lips turned down. "I've been trying to decide if the fact Dr. St. Claire is in the scene is a good thing or a bad thing."

Edward furrowed his eyebrows. "Why would it be a bad thing?"

His husband's look was furtive. "I know you don't see things the same way I do, but he might."

Edward drew back, crossing his arms. Carlisle's attitude was really beginning to piss him off. "You should be careful what you say," he said, trying to keep his voice light and failing. "I might think you're looking for an excuse to leave me."

Carlisle was quiet for a beat longer than was comfortable. "It's true, what you said before about there being no guarantees for anyone, and we make choices based on how we feel right now." He wasn't looking at Edward but staring forward. "The thing is, that only applies to people who are too blind to see a huge problem on the horizon. This is a huge problem. It's a huge part of who you are, and-"

"I heard you the fucking first time," Edward said through clenched teeth. "We've already had this discussion, which is why I won't remind you that you're forgetting it's also a huge part of who you are. And yeah, I also heard what you said about how that's all wrapped up in poisonous bullshit now, but that's why you go to therapy, Carlisle. That's the whole fucking point. You come to therapy to figure out how to cope, how to resolve the parts of you that feel bad. That's what we're fucking doing here."

"Will you calm down, please?" Carlisle said, glancing around the waiting room even though they were alone.

That pissed Edward off even more. "Who the hell do you think is going to hear me? And you know what? I wouldn't give a shit if someone did hear me. No, I won't calm down. When my husband stops talking like our marriage has an expiration date, then I'll calm down."

"Edward-"

The door opened. Edward shrank back, not looking at the doctor or his husband. "Carlisle and Edward Cullen?"

Beside him, Carlisle sighed as he got to his feet. "I'm Carlisle."

Edward got to his feet and forced a smile he didn't feel as he looked at the doctor. He was an attractive man, about Carlisle and Garrett's age, which made sense. He had a hell of a beard and cautious, piercing eyes.

"That makes you Edward, then," the man said, offering his hand. His shake was firm. He looked between the both of them. "I'm Dr. Alistair St. Clair. You can call me Alistair, if you'd like. Would it be all right for me to call you by your first names?"

"No problems here," Edward said. "But I won't answer for Carlisle. God only knows what he's thinking, because I certainly don't."

Alistair's eyebrows quirked, but he only looked at Carlisle. Edward couldn't find it in himself to feel bad that his husband looked annoyed.

"Carlisle is fine," he said.

"Good. Now that we've settled the more important parts, won't you come in?" He gestured into his office.

Edward didn't follow Carlisle in. He pushed past his husband to take his seat first.

"Okay," Alistair said, sitting down across from them. "Why don't you tell me why you're acting out right now, Edward?" His stare and his tone were commanding with a hint of disapproval. "That seems like a good place to start."

A shock went down Edward's spine. He shifted in his seat, glancing between Alistair and Carlisle and resisting the urge to look down at his toes. He felt a twinge of something it took him a quick second to identify as nerves. A sensation familiar and yet…

Rusty? Was that the word?

Alistair's words were purposeful, and the way he was looking at Edward stirred something deep in his gut. He touched the cuff at his wrist and looked to Carlisle, because it wasn't Alistair's place to be saying those words.

He processed all of that in the space of a second. The next second another chill went down his spine.

Alistair has his number. He had been acting out. The same way he did when he wanted-needed-his Dom's attention.

Edward could see that Carlisle had caught what was happening. He looked miserable. He looked like a man whose every fear was being affirmed.

"I'm-"

Alistair held up a hand. He relaxed back in his seat, slipping out of his role as momentary Dom and back into therapist mode. "In our sessions, I want you to pause before you answer any of my questions. Really think about the answer. There's the answer you want to give in the heat of the moment, and there's the answer that's the truth." He nodded to Edward. "The walls are thin, and I heard yelling I'm going to assume was you."

Edward grimaced.

"So I'm going to ask you again. I already know you're angry." Alistair tilted his head, looking more like a concerned parent-or, more accurately Edward supposed, a concerned therapist-now than a Dom. "Why are you acting out right now?"

As requested, Edward didn't speak right away. He was angry, but he was also thirty years old-more than capable of handling a situation like an adult. What he'd done-shouting at his husband in a public place, embarrassing him in front of Alistair, and then shoving past him-was all childish behavior. Or, more accurately to them, somewhat close to the way he acted when he was in desperate need of release only Carlisle could give.

Edward breathed in and out slowly. "I'm scared," he said finally.

"Would you care to elaborate?" Alistair said with a wave of his hand.

No, Edward very much didn't want to elaborate, but he'd lived with Carlisle too long to run from his feelings so easily. "I'm scared, and that's what makes me so angry. I'm sick of being scared all the time."

He clenched and unclenched his fingers, staring forward, trying to find the right words. "I was scared at first that losing our babies was going to drive us apart. That happens a lot with loss, right? You hear that all the time."

"You said 'at first,'" Alistair said. "Does that mean it's not what you're scared of now?"

Edward exhaled and the violent twisting in his stomach calmed down a notch. He looked to his side and found Carlisle looking back at him. With a small sigh, he held out his hand. His husband looked relieved as he took it. "We're not okay," Edward said, stroking his thumb over Carlisle's knuckles. "We're not healed. We won't be for a long, long time-maybe never. But I think we're dealing with the…" He searched for the right word, and looking in Carlisle's sad eyes, he found it. "The grief. We're dealing with the grief together. Right?"

Carlisle reached out to touch his cheek with his free hand. "Yes." He looked to Alistair. "Edward is my safe haven. Whatever I need in that regard, he gives me. With him, I can rage or cry, and he's always right there with me. We don't grieve differently. We grieve together. He never rejects me or resents me."

"What the hell would I resent?" Edward asked. "There's nothing."

"That's not true," Carlisle said, turning back to him. "There's plenty to resent if you were so inclined."

Edward chuffed. "And you think the same isn't true for you? It was my parents who did this."

Carlisle squeezed his hand. "Your parents did this to both of us. If anything, what they did to you only makes me angrier. If it was only me they'd hurt, that would be almost understandable. I'm the asshole who targeted their innocent baby boy. They've always hated me for that. But you." He shook his head and swallowed hard. Edward could see his jaw go taut. "How could they have done that to you?"

Edward shuddered and clenched his free hand at his side. He closed his eyes, tamping down the rage that rose through him.

Alistair cleared his throat, effectively popping the bubble that had come over them. "Edward, you said you're still scared. What are you scared about now?"

Edward looked down at his lap and played with Carlisle's fingers. "I'm afraid I can't be the strong one."

"What does that mean?" Carlisle asked before Alistair could.

"It means I've always been the taker. That's the way we've always worked. I put everything I am, all my baggage and my issues, on your shoulders to carry while I find freedom and release." He looked up at his beautiful husband from under his eyelashes. "I think you need me to carry you, your issues and your baggage for a while, and I'm scared I'm not strong enough."

Carlisle studied him a beat. "And you were acting out right now…"

"Because when you say things like you've been saying, I don't know how to deal with it," Edward said, his voice tight. He shifted in his seat to face Carlisle. "Or when you get pass-out drunk on my birthday."

Carlisle flinched and tried to pull back, but Edward held his hand fast.

"I wasn't angry," Edward said. "I was scared. You have such perfect control of yourself, but for you to be so far gone you did what you stopped me from doing? Self-medicating?

"I'm trying to do what you've done for me over and over again. I'm trying to be exactly what you need, but I don't know how." Edward held his hand in both of his. "What I did just now-I don't think that was about me needing my Dom. I don't. Not yet. I think I was just trying to scare your confidence and your sureness out of hiding."

They both jumped when Alistair clapped his hands together once. "Congratulations, friends. You're better off than a good eighty percent of my clients. I don't have to convince you that opening up and sharing your feelings is part of what makes therapy work."

He leaned forward. "Okay, Carlisle. It's your turn."

~0~

In the end, Alistair spoke to them together and, briefly, individually. They agreed Edward was dealing as well as anyone could with the the loss of their children. Carlisle guessed that one of the benefits of being raised emotionally detached from his parents meant that their loss wasn't as big a blow to Edward as it could have been. Not everyone benefited from therapy. Edward dealt with his issues much better one-on-one with his husband-it was what made Carlisle such a good match for him.

They set up a schedule of individual counseling for Carlisle and couples therapy interspersed in between. Alistair had warned that he wasn't certified to do couples counseling. However, Edward and Carlisle's marital problems didn't revolve around more normal issues. They were still very much a team. Their love for each other only burned brighter after the tragedy they'd suffered. Alistair had a unique insight into the root of their problems. At the very least, an unbiased third opinion couldn't hurt, or so Carlisle hoped.

"Edward, you've said you want to express your love physically. And Carlisle, you have this desire too. Though you've been able to overcome your uncertainty a time or two to be with Edward, you often find yourself pulling back even though you know you aren't going to be pressured into sex," Alistair had said. "Part of your problem, as you've stated, is that you automatically associate sex with the scene, and right now, you have an aversion to the scene. We'll get to that.

"For now, we want to keep you both communicating physically. There's a lot of fear in both of you at the loss of this part of your relationship. To that end, I have homework and a suggestion.

"The homework is to first disconnect physical intimacy from sex. There are plenty of ways to express your love and simply be together. Find some time this week to cuddle. Naked. But only cuddle. It's better not to be on the bed or anywhere you associate nudity with sex. Find somewhere you can hold each other, touch each other, without any expectation of sex." Alistair smiled at them knowingly. "So no touching below the belt.

"As for my suggestion." He tilted his head at Carlisle. "Get the little blue pill and forget about it. You'll know when the time is right, and if you need assistance, take it then. Have it on hand, but take it slow."

It was two days after their first session that Edward and Carlisle found an evening alone. They glanced at each other as they looked around their living room. Edward laughed. "You thought you were so smart, hiding in plain sight. I don't think there's a single surface we haven't, err...utilized thoroughly." He sighed. "So time to move or what?"

Carlisle snorted. Then he took a shaky breath. "There are still a few places," he said, his voice quiet. His heart had begun to pound erratically. Hoping he was doing the right thing, he reached out and took Edward's hand.

Neither of them spoke as Carlisle led them up the stairs. His heart gave a not-so-quiet pang as he turned down the hallway.

Across from Riley's room and Bree's nursery, there was an open area. There, they'd set up a room where the children could have their own space. When Riley and Bree were living there, the shelves were filled with books. Many of their toys and playsets were out, waiting to be played with. The squat entertainment center was lined with Disney movies.

Now, the space was barren save for the furniture. The shelves were empty, but the TV remained. There was a comfortable couch where they'd lounged often, half-asleep while Riley watched Sesame Street.

Edward took a shaky breath, and Carlisle looked at him. "Bad idea?" he asked.

Edward's eyes darted around the room another handful of moments before he exhaled and turned. He put his hands to the small of Carlisle's back, pulling him closer. "No. It's a good idea." He pressed his cheek to his. "They're a part of us. They're always going to be part of us. I don't want to run from those memories.

"Besides..." Edward's hands went to Carlisle's shirt, and he began undoing the buttons. The way he did it was matter-of-fact, somehow. Not sexy. Just something one husband could do for another. Because they were used to touching each other this way. It wasn't new. It was natural. "I'll never regret that I got to see you like that." He looked up from his work, into Carlisle's eyes, and smiled. "I find something new to love about you every other day."

Warmth spread through Carlisle's chest, soothing the ache of loss the slightest bit. He kissed Edward, though he kept it chaste. They weren't supposed to be instigating anything.

They turned away from each other at the same time, not watching the strip tease. Carlisle sat down on the sofa, and Edward followed him. It was a wide sofa-the kind Carlisle liked-and so it wasn't difficult for them both to lie on their sides lengthwise across it. Carlisle propped one hand behind his head, leaving the other arm open so Edward could fit himself against his side. Edward did him one better and laid draped mostly across him-his arm thrown over his chest and his legs tangling.

It was surprisingly innocent. Carlisle had been dubious about how they were supposed to make being naked together non-sexual. In the end, though, Alistair was right. Skin to skin contact was about bonding, not sex.

Though they were both getting better, every day was still a struggle. Simply to put one foot in front of the other was exhausting. Worrying about each other-Carlisle worrying when all of this was going to blow up in his face-was all the more stressful.

This was peaceful. Edward's weight on top of him, his heat, the scent of his skin-it was all calming. He traced the shape of Edward's spine, careful to keep away from known erogenous zones. He kissed his husband. Slow kisses. They both relaxed, their bodies draining of tension. Carlisle closed his eyes, finding solace in the sensation. Edward's kisses, his hands, his soft, contented sighs.

The longer it went on, the more Carlisle finally understood why Alistair had suggested it. This was lovemaking. They were expressing their feelings physically, giving and receiving equally. Edward knew his body. Knew the pleasure-not erotic pleasure, but pleasure-Carlisle felt when he stroked the tips of his fingers over the flesh of his throat. It sent delightful chills through his whole body. He tilted his head back so Edward could press a tender kiss there.

He played with Edward's hair, scratching right behind the ears. He'd teased Edward often that he was just an overgrown puppy that way; he loved when Carlisle stroked that spot.

When they were finally ready to disentangle themselves and head to bed-to sleep-they looked at each other. Edward looked like he often had after sex-love drunk and sated. Carlisle felt it too. That feeling that of all the seven billion people on the planet, this one was his. They overlapped. They were bonded.

For once, in the months since they'd lost their children, Carlisle fell asleep without a heavy thought. He fell asleep still locked in a warm bubble, where nothing in the world mattered except the man who drifted off in his arms. It wasn't hope. It was just a few wonderful minutes of bliss. It was a small slice of peace, sheltered and protected from the maelstrom. The calm eye of the storm.

A/N: As always, thank you to my lovely girls for making my docs a wonderful place to be.

I'm late for work. Again. Agh!

How are you out there?