A/N: Snapshots of a life together. Short chapters. Don't own Twilight.

Cotton (2001)

"Edward! I'm scared! I've got all these kids here, half of them are freaking out because their parents are on base or on a ship. I don't know what to do!" She grips her classroom phone so tightly, her knuckles turn white.

"Baby, calm down. I 'm headed out of here right now. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Hold on, Bella. If you can stay calm, you can keep the kids calm, too. Shit, how did they find out?"

"Adults talk, kids overhear. The news flew through these halls, honey. Teenaged military brats are finely tuned to this kind of tension. I should know. Please hurry, Edward. I need you."

"Call your mom. I'm on my way. Love you."

"Love you, too." He can hear the whispered strain in her voice. He knows her greatest concern is the one she won't speak aloud.

Charlie Swan is a Navy Commander based in Norfolk, the largest navy base in the world, which just so happens to be one city over from Edward and Bella's home in Virginia Beach. This area in southeastern Virginia, Hampton Roads as it's known, is similar to the boroughs of New York in that the many make up the one. Bayside Middle School may physically be miles away from base, but it might as well be next door, considering how many students and faculty are closely tied to the men and women who inhabit its confines, both Navy and Marine. If that wasn't enough cause for concern for the locals, there are also Army and Air Force bases located on the area's map.

He can see the worry all around him as he checks in with his father and makes his way down from his Pembroke Plaza office to his car. Even those who have no direct link to the local military are on edge. Bella and her students may have an immediate and visceral fear for the ones they love, but every local knows that their homes are now more vulnerable to attack than most other places in America at this moment. New York was a message. Washington was symbolic. Norfolk would be tactical.

As Edward drives through the morning traffic, he notices the faces of the other drivers. All eyes are periodically trained on the sky before snapping back to the road, looking for God only knows. There are more cars moving away from the business district than towards it. Frightened people are rushing to the sides of their loved ones on this clear, bright, hot September morning. Edward thinks of his wife, wondering if she has been able to reach her mother, wondering if anyone will be able to speak with Charlie amid the chaos, hoping she can keep herself together. She would not forgive herself if she loses it in front of her students. She will want to be strong for them even as she drowns in inner panic.

(2001)

Sitting on the couch in front of the big screen television Edward insisted was mandated by his very maleness, they are huddled together, wrapped in each other, clinging desperately. Bella had called Renee, offering to come to her. Tori was already there, and Renee did not want Bella and Edward on the road. If something else happened and they were on the road headed to Norfolk, well, Renee said to stay put. The only thing offering even the slightest comfort- besides the presence of each other- is that Charlie had been able to call Renee. He was fine, he was safe, he was stuck. More was known now about the morning's events, and Charlie would be home tomorrow since it seemed the immediate danger was contained. So, here they are, on the couch, watching NBC News, listening to the fighter jets landing and taking off from Oceana NAS only a few miles away. Their faces share twin expressions of disbelief and horror. Over and over they watch the towers fall, rerun as if on a loop, unable to look away. The sight becomes no less real, no less destructive, no less devastating. And still, as they watch, the towers fall.

(2001)

Preparing for bed, Bella continues to wipe the delicate and swollen skin under her eyes. She has been unable to stop the tears. There have been times throughout the day when she'd thought she'd managed to get herself under control, but then Edward would reach out and so very lightly swipe his thumbs across her cheekbones. Almost as if by wiping the tears away, he could somehow ease what caused them. But even he couldn't make this better. It is a shared pain, a collective hurt, a tragedy for which they as a nation are wholly unprepared.

Edward eases into their bed, coaxing her to lie down. He wraps himself around her, hands gripping tightly to the cotton gown she wears like a security blanket. Everything about her screams out her need for comfort and reassurance. He recognizes it because it matches his own. He feels great relief and gratitude, and maybe a little guilt that she is here with him, safe and alive, as are his family and friends. He feels sorrow and sympathy for those who watched the ones they love die in front of them on screens the world over. He feels hatred for those who did it, and anger at those who celebrate. And then he feels numb, because it is all just too much to handle, too much to understand.

All he wants to feel is her.

Pulling her tighter, pressing her back to meet his chest, touching her in any way his body can manage, he brushes her hair aside and kisses the back of her neck. He begins slowly, unsure if she wants this right now, unsure if she would rather he just hold her. But he needs her, needs this closeness. When he feels her arm reach behind her to wrap around his neck, he knows she needs him, too.

It is slow, gentle, tender, unlike their usual way. Usually, it's hard and a little rough, or teasing and drawn out in laughter, always about the giving and receiving of pleasure. It is never without love, but tonight is different. Tonight is love and comfort and reassurance, being alive and together. He rolls her, covers her with his body as if to protect her, kisses her more tenderly than he has since they were first together. He is inside her, slowly, arms framing her face so he can look at her, reminding himself time and again that she is here. She wraps her legs around him, her arms, holding him as close as he can get, telling him over and over that she loves him. They claim each other. It is celebration, it is benediction, it is declaration.

When it is over, when this day is over, they hold each other, bodies still entwined, reveling in the understanding that they still can.

"I love you," they say.

A/N: Took forever to write this. So hard.