A/N: Anon - Don't worry. Edward is a grown man, so his parents have absolutely no say in his life. Grandparents have zero rights when it comes to children. Remember, the one and only reason Carlisle and Edward's children were taken away so easily was because they had no rights to begin with. They were foster parents, having not yet adopted Riley and Bree. Foster children, while being cared for by foster parents, are actually in the custody of the agency. The foster agency had almost all the rights over the children (Victoria having still had small rights). They simply terminated their association with Edward and Carlisle.

Biological and adoptive parents have many rights. Grandparents have none. Zip. Zero. Even if they were to raise a fuss, it's difficult to lose your rights to your children. It's difficult to even get them taken away from you. Injustices happen—they will happen in any system—but they more typically happen the other way: there's not enough proof to remove children from an abusive home and so they get hurt again.

Carlisle was called in on an emergency the day their doctor implanted three embryos in Bella. He wasn't pleased, but Edward promised he would take care of her well enough for both of them.

It wasn't hard-and-fast science, but most doctors recommended the patient take it easy for five or so days after blastocyst transfer—that was, transfer of a five to seven day old embryo. Edward had taken the week off to be at Bella's beck and call so she could relax.

To that end, she was lying stretched across their couch, her laptop open on her flat belly, ordering her team around via phone. Edward shook his head fondly as he laid out the feast he'd brought home—smothered chimichangas with all the trimmings, rice, beans, fresh sliced avocados, and flan for dessert. He set out each item on the coffee table, watching with a smile as Bella's eyes got wider and her barked orders got fewer and further between.

"Uh huh. Listen, Angela, you're a lifesaver. I know I can trust you to get everything off the ground on time," Bella said, her words quicker than usual. "I have to run. Don't hesitate to call me, and remember to call Liam whenever it's early enough in Ireland. I think he gets up at six. Call him at six-twenty. Bye."

As she spoke the last, she was already setting her laptop to the side and straightening up. "Christ, Edward. You're a doctor. You should know that pregnant women get that belly from, you know, being pregnant. You don't have to try and create it."

He snickered and pulled the plate he'd been about to hand her toward him. "Maybe this is all for me. Maybe I'm planning to grow a belly with you."

"Hand it over, Cullen, or I'll hurt you."

Thirty minutes later, Bella was stretched out on the couch again, her hands folded over her belly, groaning. "I'm going to have a Mexican food baby for sure."

Edward settled down on the floor, his back against the couch. He twisted around to face her. "Would you feel uncomfortable if I wanted to talk to our embryo?"

Her lips twitched. "No." She reached out to run her fingers through his hair. "You might just be talking to a chimichanga though."

"Oh, I bet that'll talk back." Edward rested his head against her, splaying his hand wide over her belly.

For a few minutes, he spoke to his potential children, encouraging them to grab hold. "I think you'd like it out here," he told them. "Daddy and I will take such good care of you." He was surprised to find a lump welling in his throat, making his voice hoarse. "We'll never let anyone…"

"Hey," Bella said, her voice and touch gentle. "It's going to be okay."

Edward closed his stinging eyes, irritated with himself for the random burst of emotion. He swallowed the lump down, breathing through his nose as he calmed. "Sorry," he said. "It's kind of a weird day for all this to happen."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged, stroking his fingers over her belly again. "It was nine months today that they took the kids." He sighed, pressing his palm over her. "Babies who were conceived that day are being born."

They were both quiet for a handful of moments while Edward put his thoughts in order. "It's strange to miss my kids, to still want them back in my arms, and now to love this baby, too. I have so much hope. I can't wait." He took her hand, squeezing it. "The idea we're going to get to be there from the second this kid opens his eyes is incredible. Hell, neither of us can wait to be there with you for every minute of this pregnancy."

"Well, hopefully not every minute," Bella said, teasing.

Edward grinned. "No, I'm sure there are a number of things you need privacy for." He waggled his eyebrows. "Speaking of which, Carlisle told me what you're doing for Esme. I can't get the image of you putting a woman who's almost twenty years older than you and three inches taller than you over your knee." His smile grew wider. "Are you still going to do it when you're big and pregnant?" He gestured out in front of him in a rounded shape.

She leaned back on the couch, her arms propped behind her head, utterly serene. "You're damn right. I told you, pregnancy isn't going to stop me from doing what I have to do." She considered a moment. "Though, at that point, it might be over the arm of the couch or something. I might have no lap to speak of."

"So how is it with Esme?" Edward asked, curious. "I mean, scenes that don't end in sex are a rarity."

"Actually, it was a pretty fulfilling experience—helping her. There's good money in a career as a dominatrix. It's a unique way of helping people, but it's one I can get behind, obviously." She nudged him with her knee. "Maybe you could be my second client."

It took her a few seconds to realize what she'd said. When she did, she sat up and put a hand on his shoulder. "Christ, Edward. I'm sorry. That was a serious foot-in-mouth disease moment." She slid onto the floor beside him, wrapping an arm around him. "I'm really sorry."

"I know." The words came out more shaky than he wanted. "Can I admit something to you?"

"Of course."

Edward licked his lips, staring forward. His stomach twisted uncomfortably. "It's been really hard to see Carlisle the way he's been since this all started. It's not just the lack of confidence, though that's been a challenge for me. He's always been the strong, calm center of my universe. But what gets me most is how afraid he is. He's afraid that all of this won't work out—with the baby, sure, but most of all that he'll lose me." Edward pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pausing to beat back the emotion that was trying to get the best of him. He looked over at Bella. "And it makes me scared, too."

"Scared of what?"

He looked down, clenching and unclenching his hands. "I learned really early on in our relationship how important honesty is. We've always been honest with each other. We don't keep secrets."

"But?"

"But…" He huffed. "He was right, and I'm terrified to talk to him about it."

She looked perplexed for a moment before her eyes went wide. "You mean, he was right that your needs would resurface?"

Edward banged his head lightly against the back of the couch. "I miss that part of my life terribly. I miss the safety I felt with him, the ability to let go of everything and just feel. I love my husband, Bella. But, I miss the hell out of my Dom."

Once he'd started, Edward found he didn't want to stop. "I'm such a selfish prick. Alistair explained to me how we needed to accept what had happened to us as a trauma. Getting sex back—the connection and the intimacy—that should be enough for me."

"But Carlisle was right about that part. It is a need. You can't blame yourself for what you need, Edward. As long as you're not demanding it at Carlisle's cost, I can't see how that makes you a selfish prick." She studied him. "You've been feeling ready to return not only to sex but to the scene for a while now, haven't you?"

Edward grimaced. "It's not the same. I have a version of what he has. I don't like thinking about especially intense scenes." His cheeks heated. "The idea still arouses me, when a stray thought sneaks in, but it's almost like I'm ashamed I still find it such a turn on. And that pisses me the fuck off."

Bella nodded. "Well, of course. Yeah. That's the point of the kinds of relationships we have. You can trust him with that part of you—trust him both not to think less of you and to be the one who takes you to the edge. You used to be able to trust him with that, and now you feel you can't. Now, when you need reassurance the most, you can't get it."

Edward looked up, his expression fierce. "It's not his fault."

"No, it isn't, but that doesn't change what you feel and what you need." She paused, frowning. "That's heavy. The idea that you might have lost something that beautiful forever… That'd be devastating. Like a death."

Edward had never been less pleased to have his feelings vindicated. He closed his eyes and slumped, resting his head on hers. "What do I do?" he whispered.

It scared him that she couldn't answer right away. She sighed. "You need to be honest with him. I think you need to figure out if it's something he's willing to try to overcome at some point, or if it's something you're going to have to mourn. Either way, you need to find a solution you can both live with."

He'd known the answer before she said the words. All the same, the idea shook him so hard, he thought he was going to be sick to his stomach. He knew then he'd been hanging on to the idea that Carlisle would remember who he was—that he was a Dom, Edward's Dom. Surely something so intrinsic couldn't be erased.

He sighed, his heart aching. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be putting this on you now. I shouldn't make you worry when you might be carrying our baby."

Bella snorted and flashed him a grin. "I haven't worried even for a second."

"No?"

"Of course not. There isn't a single doubt in my mind you two are going to come out the other end of this stronger and more grotesquely in love than ever."

Edward smiled at that, some of the gloom lifting. "We are pretty gross, aren't we?"

"Nauseating." She wrinkled her nose. "Or that might be the ridiculously large chimichanga you fed me."

"Could be my baby, too."

"There is always that."

~0~

Garrett and Kate's wedding had been delayed twice, but it finally came on a bright but chilly day in late January.

Carlisle would never get tired of seeing his husband in a suit. He sat on the edge of their bed, watching Edward get ready through the open door of the bathroom. It was a strip show in reverse—one alluring look after another.

First, Edward emerged from the shower, a towel cinched at his waist. Droplets of water still gleamed on his back. Carlisle knew well the feel of his skin, hot and slick from the shower. He knew exactly how he would taste if he were to stride over there and lick along his spine. He knew how Edward would arch back, shivering with pleasure under his touch.

When he was done brushing his teeth, Edward let the towel drop. Carlisle had to press his tongue against the roof of his mouth to smother a moan. Edward was a work of art, chiseled by the masters—wonderful to look at, but even better to touch. How easy it would be to cup his hands to the curve of Edward's ass. To kiss his bare shoulders. To squeeze and nip and…

Edward pulled his underwear on and then his pants. It was then he caught Carlisle's gaze in the reflection of the mirror. His lips quirked up. "Careful, love. You're going to start drooling."

Though he knew he wasn't, Carlisle wiped a thumb over his mouth, watching as Edward turned to face him. A mischievous smile pulled at the corner of Edward's lips. "Do you want to help?"

Carlisle snorted. "If I 'help,' we'll definitely be late."

Something familiar flashed over Edward's face. For a moment, Carlisle was sure he saw his little boy brat. He could imagine him tempting Carlisle, teasing him until he put his foot down or, as happened more often than not, gave in to temptation. Memories came back to him. How many times had he given Edward a playful spanking—for making them late, the brat—before he bent him over the counter for a quick, deep fuck?

Carlisle shook his head hard, trying to cast off the simultaneous twist of arousal and the stomach-churning discomfort. He didn't want to start down either road of thought.

Luckily, Edward didn't try to press the issue. He turned around again, slipping his undershirt over his head. Carlisle let out a breath, remembering he was supposed to be getting dressed too. He buttoned his dress shirt, still watching his husband.

When he was dressed, Edward took Carlisle's tie from where it hung and went to sit beside him. This, too, was familiar. A warm feeling of contentment came over Carlisle as Edward tied his tie for him. The slight purse to his lips as he concentrated on the knot was adorable as always. Unable to help himself, Carlisle leaned in and kissed him sweetly.

Pulling out of the kiss a moment later, Edward smiled. He tugged Carlisle's tie tight and smoothed it down, spreading his palm wide over his chest.

Edward's smile fell and the look in his eyes changed to one of nervousness. "There's something I want to ask you."

Something twisted in Carlisle's stomach, responding to Edward's tone and the tightness around his eyes. "What is it?"

Edward didn't answer right away. He searched Carlisle, letting his hand drop to twine their fingers together. "There are going to be a lot of people at that party who are at Garrett's other parties," he said slowly.

The sense of unease increased twofold. Of course, there would be a lot of people from the scene at the wedding. "Yes," Carlisle said, indicating Edward should continue.

"I want to wear my old cuff." Edward paused a beat. "And I want you to wear your ring."

Carlisle tensed. The cuff Edward normally wore was the one Carlisle had given him when he proposed. It bore the Cullen family crest and was a symbol of every aspect of their relationship. These long months, the cuff had given Carlisle no small amount of anxiety. Early on, he'd considered buying Edward something else—something that didn't remind him of everything he couldn't be. But Edward loved his cuff. He hated being without it, and the fact he'd never taken it off—not even at the worst of times—had been a comfort.

But to wear the old cuff? The first cuff Carlisle had given Edward bore only his own initials: CC, subtly carved into an ornate emblem. It had been their version of a collar, neither of them liking collars at all. After they were engaged and before everything happened, Edward had only worn that cuff to play parties. It only symbolized the one aspect of their relationship that had now been completely destroyed.

"Hear me out," Edward said, squeezing Carlisle's hands in his. "It doesn't mean… Well, I'm not going to say it doesn't mean anything. You know that's not true, but I think maybe you can understand what I'm trying to say. Wearing them doesn't mean I'm expecting something."

"Then why?" Carlisle asked, hating how his voice came out clipped and tight.

Edward searched him again, and Carlisle could tell he was trying to figure out how much to say. He swallowed hard before he spoke. "Mainly, because I think some of the others might have questions. Garrett and Kate know enough not to think about it, and they'll probably be distracted. Some of the others we see more casually might notice."

It was a fair point, and one Carlisle hadn't considered. While Carlisle had, in the past, derived a great deal of pleasure in seeing Edward in his cuff, he rarely noticed similar jewelry on others. Still, most subs took great pride in their collars, eager to show the world to whom they belonged. Edward was right. Someone would notice if he didn't wear his matching ring. It was easily explainable, of course: It was a wedding, not a play party. But Carlisle could avoid having the now-uncomfortable subject coming up by wearing the ring.

Edward had said "mainly," which meant he had other reasons for wanting to wear his old cuff. Carlisle could well imagine what those reasons might be. He debated asking, but quickly dismissed the idea. He wanted to put off that conversation forever, but this was definitely not the right time.

Too much time passed, and Edward started to squirm. "Look, forget I mentioned it," he said quietly. "It probably won't matter at all. No one's going to say anything with so many vanilla people hanging out. Kate and Garrett's parents and all that. It was a stupid thing to—"

Carlisle caught Edward by the wrist before he could get up. He sighed and cupped his face in his hands. "You know I hate that word," he said.

He took Edward's hand and raised it, pressing his lips to the Cullen crest. This man had given him so much. It was for him, more than anything, he told himself. It was more likely a sub would notice and comment to him. For that, Carlisle could wear the ring. Silly to be so anxious about a symbol, after all. He raised his head to kiss Edward again. "Okay," he said. "I'll wear it."

The smile that brightened Edward's features was well worth Carlisle's trepidation. He got up and hurried to the dresser, pulling out both the ring and his cuff. He put the ring in Carlisle's hand as he sat down, and then he hesitated.

Customarily, it was Carlisle who put Edward's cuff back on him. He could tell that was what Edward wanted. He could also tell his husband wasn't about to press him.

As Edward made to unclasp the cuff he normally wore, Carlisle reached out and took the old one from him in an impulsive movement. It was ridiculous that his throat was tight and his hands trembled ever so slightly. It was ridiculous that the moment seemed to carry such a weight. It was just for appearance's sake, after all. The nature of their relationship was no one's business but theirs.

When he had snapped both buttons, Carlisle put his hand over the cuff, almost as though he couldn't bear to see it. Still, there was a strange emotion in him. An echo, perhaps. He'd been so happy, so satisfied, all the other times he'd done this. To call Edward his in every sense of the word…

He missed it. He did miss it so much. The echo of the feeling of completeness ached.

"Carlisle…"

"I'm okay," Carlisle said, moving to take Edward's hands in his. "Just being silly."

"It's not silly," Edward said, taking what had been Carlisle's line for so long. He cupped his hand around the back of Carlisle's neck, bringing him down for a kiss. It was a reassuring kind of kiss, full of all the love and devotion Carlisle knew Edward had for him. It was what he needed—the reminder his husband wasn't going anywhere, no matter how much had changed, not even when this symbol was hollow.

No, not hollow. Different—the good flecked with bad now—but not hollow. Not without meaning.

Carlisle wrapped his arms around his husband, lingering for a moment. "Come on," he said. "We really are going to be late."

~0~

Edward was so afraid he'd made the wrong choice. Carlisle had been quiet on the drive over, subdued. It was some comfort that he took Edward's hand when they got out of the car and didn't let him go as they mingled. Still, he was off, and Edward felt horrible for springing this on him today of all days.

But when the best man came to tell Garrett it was time to take their places, Carlisle chuckled at the look on their friend's face. It was a mixture of terror and joy. He looked to Edward and smiled. Edward flushed, smiling back, and knew they were both remembering their own wedding—the nerves and excitement that came from knowing they were about to pledge themselves to each other for the rest of their lives.

When they took their seats, Carlisle wrapped his arm around Edward, pulling him close. "I think I remember every minute leading up to this part," he whispered in his ear. "I remember how antsy I was. The clock was moving too slowly, I swear."

Edward raised his head, a grin tugging at his lips. "You weren't nervous?"

Carlisle smoothed his hair back, his gaze adoring. "I was everything all at once. Nervous but completely at peace at the same time. Eager to get to wear your mark on me always." He tapped his silver wedding band. He looked into Edward's eyes, his own shining with a sincere, deep emotion that sent a bolt through him. "I love you, Edward."

Edward didn't have time to reply before the ceremony started, but it didn't matter. They were bad guests—glancing at each other rather than at their friends. As Garrett and Kate took their vows, Carlisle took Edward's hand, rubbing his thumb over his wedding band as though echoing the sentiment.

They rarely left each other's side, hand in hand when they sat for dinner, joined in toasts, and mingled with the other guests. They danced, forgetting this night wasn't about them and what they shared. They danced with eyes that were only for each other, sharing sweet kisses, happy and content.

A/N: How are you, kids? Kris is sleepy. *puts head on desk* *snoozes*