I do not own Twilight or any of its' characters

BPOV

Chapter 22

The Awakening

Edward had been asleep for days. I actually wasn't sure he was sleeping or if he was in a coma. I hadn't seen anything change remarkably about him, but then again, I couldn't get a very good look at him, I was afraid to touch him or sit close by to him. I didn't know why, as silly as it seemed, I was afraid I would ruin something if I did.

After his 'procedure' he lost consciousness, Juno monitored him for an hour or so, and when she was comfortable that he was safe, she said we could take him home. I had asked her multiple times how long he would be out, and she had no answers for me. She didn't know when he would wake up, and she didn't know if it had even worked. She said that we wouldn't know until he awoke. Alice had picked him up carefully and carried him to the car and brought him home. I never left his side. I would go home for a few hours at a time to appease Charlie, but then I would be right back in Edward's room. I was there so much that by the second day Carlisle had brought an arm chair up from the living room for me to reside in. Esme made me cup after cup of coffee as I kept watch. I sat on pins and needles waiting for any sign of life from him, some kind of sign that he was still here. I waited in vain, he never stirred, never moved and his breathing was so shallow that most of the time I couldn't hear it.

I comforted myself by assuring my mind that this was to be expected, his body had been taxed so much during those few weeks that it would only be natural that it would take this long to get his strength back. I shuddered when I thought of that day I saw him. He really did look like a junkie; all I could remember was the movie Trainspotting when Ewan MacGregor's character was trying to come off heroin. It was chilling the similarities that Edward shared with that character. He looked nothing like himself, he had lost weight, if that was possible, and the frenzied look in his black eyes frightened me. If he didn't come out of this changed, then I would insist that he never try this again, ever.

By day five, I was starting to look like Edward had the day before he saw Juno. I wondered if it was possible to have withdrawals from a person, rather than a substance. It was late morning, and I was already on my third cup of coffee, which Esme had made way too strong, one cup of Esme's coffee was equivalent to two cups of a normal person's cup, so in theory, I was on my sixth cup and it was only ten o'clock. I would have an ulcer for sure by the time this was all over. I hadn't gotten to spend any meaningful amount of time with Edward for three weeks now. I missed him so much. I wanted to talk to him and breathe in his sweet scent. I wondered if I ever would be able to again.

I sat in my overstuffed microfiber armchair, my feet hanging over the side of the arm. I grabbed the remote on the floor and clicked on the stereo. The silence I had been listening to for the past five days was deafening. I turned the volume down, thinking that somehow I would disturb Edward if it was up too loud, Mazzy Star again, he certainly did like this CD. I listened to her sleepy, haunting voice and acoustic guitar, it was very soothing. I pulled the sleeves of my sweatshirt down around my hands and curled up around my hot cup of coffee, the warmth brought comfort. I let my head drop back onto the arm of the chair and closed my eyes, I could feel my body growing heavy and preparing itself for sleep, and then I heard Edward's bed creak.

My eyes snapped open and I turned my head quickly in the direction of the bed, nearly giving myself whiplash. He was moving, he was starting to sit up, I watched in awe as he arched his back and stretched his long arms out on either side of him, he let his head drop back and let out a tired groan followed like a deep sigh. He had no idea I was watching him, my body was frozen, my eyes glued to him. He turned his head to the side and saw me, his beautiful crooked smile that I had been without for so long, spread across his face in surprise.

"Bella?" his voice was hoarse and faraway.

I put my coffee down carefully and rolled off the chair onto the floor, I crawled over the bed desperately, not taking my eyes off him, fearing that he would disappear like a mirage. I knelt on the floor in front of the bed as he held himself propped up, watching me in amusement.

We stared at each other for several moments, like two people who hadn't seen each other in years would if they suddenly ran into each other on the street.

He was the first to speak, "so, um, how bad is it?"

I continued to stare at him, more closely now, he had changed, he gazed up at me with shy eyes. Immortality couldn't hold a candle to the person that sat before me, he was absolutely radiant.

His pale skin had darkened up slightly, and gone was the hard, statue like cut of his features, in its' place was a peachy like glow. His crazy, flyaway bronze hair still glimmered in the late morning sun and his chest and shoulders remained well muscled under his thin gray shirt. His eyes had changed from a fierce, brilliant, unnatural amber color to a warm, liquid green and as he looked up at me through his thick black eyelashes and I noticed he had a couple of laugh lines around them.

I wanted to touch him so badly, I reached up with both of my hands on either side of his face, and I hesitated, dropping them down again. I tried to lift them again, and hesitated once more.

"It's okay," he whispered, "I want you to."

That was the clearance I needed. I placed my hands on either side of his face, his skin was no longer cold, it almost startled me, the warmth and softness of it. He closed his eyes dreamily, "no, no, it's been so long since I've seen you." I pleaded.

He reopened his eyes and locked them on mine and smiled at me. "How do I look?"

I smiled back at him, "well, you're still prettier than me." I said flatly.

He softly chuckled and leaned in toward me, whispering in my ear, "Bella, nobody's prettier than you." He rubbed the side of his jaw against mine and kissed me softly on the cheek.

There was something different about him, and then I realized what it was, he had stubble growing along his jaw line. I smiled as he kissed my cheek again and whispered in his ear playfully, "you need to shave."

He froze midway through his third kiss; I could hear his mouth draw into a smile. He pulled away from me and touched his face, rubbing his chin lightly. "I guess I do, that should prove to be interesting."

He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into the bed with him, rubbing his scruffy chin all over my face and kissing me under my earlobe. We lay identically, side by side facing one another, our arms tucked under the sides of our heads just watching each other.

"I didn't think I was ever going to hear your voice again." I said very seriously, nervously playing with the fabric of his shirt. He continued to watch me intently, rubbing the back of his hand against my hip. "How do you feel?"

"I feel," he looked up at the ceiling, searching for the words with his pretty green eyes. He dropped his gaze back down at me, "I feel rested."

"Were you sleeping this whole time?"

"I was," he replied, smiling.

"Could you hear anything going on around you?" I asked with curiosity.

"No."

"What was it like?"

"It was like…finally being able to let go of ninety years of worry and frustration. Like finally escaping from the longest day of your life. And then, when the dreams started coming, that made everything even better." He explained.

"What did you dream about?"

"What do you think?"

I smiled with embarrassment; he had always told me that if he could dream, it would be about me, I guess he was right. "You were lucky; you didn't start talking in your sleep."

"Well no, of course not, that would be terribly embarrassing. I've got to watch what I say around you now, since my power to dazzle you is probably diminished." He said smiling, his perfect white teeth gleaming.

"I wouldn't say that." I said softly, nuzzling my head into his shoulder. He smelt wonderful to me, even though his familiar scent was much less pronounced, it still lingered there, on the surface of his skin. I wondered if he could still smell me and if not, if my ability to dazzle him would diminish.

"Bella," he said suddenly, interrupting my anxious thoughts.

"Yes?" I mumbled into his shoulder, he dropped his face down, resting it on top of my head.

"I want to try something." He whispered.

My heart leapt in my chest, I felt butterflies stir in my stomach in anticipation with what was going to happen, "anything." I breathed. I lifted my head from his shoulder and let my eyes wander to his angelic face.

"I need you to stay very still." He murmured against my ear. I shut my eyes and nodded. "Don't move." I became as still as an oil painting, but my heart was starting to beat faster.

I felt his hand that was resting quietly on my hip slowly come to life. He stroked my waist gently, and then very hesitantly, pushed my shirt up slightly, exposing my navel and lower back, I took a deep breath and felt my cheeks grow warm. "Still." He whispered, almost to himself. The weight of his hand against my skin was so light that I almost couldn't feel him, almost. He made slow, deliberate circles and lines with his knuckles up the curve of my waist and along the small of my back. I remained still. He allowed himself to go a little further and let his hand drop down where the blade of my hip made a little valley around my stomach. He only lingered there for a second, tracing the line with one finger and then rested his hand on my hip again.

He wrapped his arm around my back and pulled me toward him, until my body was right up against his, my exposed skin pressed up against his soft shirt. He rested his forehead against me and kissed me softly on the lips. I reached my hand down and rested it on his hip and then slowly slid it up his shirt. I ran the back of my hand slowly up his side. Before I would have never been able to touch him like this at all, he wouldn't allow it, I worried now if I had overstepped my boundaries. I went no farther and just let my hand be still. He kissed me again, and then his hand moved down to his waist, I figured that this would be where he would gently remove my hand and be done with it. To my surprise, he pulled his shirt up, exposing his skin and pressed his stomach against mine.

I gasped in shock at his boldness while he kissed me again. And then I gasped again at the immediate pleasure I felt of having his newly warmed skin against mine. I had always dreamt of this, I could never be this way with him before. Before when he would lie in bed with me, I would always be wrapped in a blanket because the icy touch of his body against mine would make me shiver.

He kissed me again, I wanted to feel more of his skin against me, I craved the heat coming off of him. I didn't want to scare him away, my next move would need to be something subtle. I moved my hands over the outside of his shirt, feeling the heat through his clothing now, I ran my hand up his chest, he held me closer, I felt, buttons, four of them, all snapped together tightly.

I carefully undid the buttons on his Henley shirt and folded the two sides back. I stopped there and just let my hand rest against his now hot chest.

"You're so warm now." I said softly.

"Is that alright?" He asked shyly, I couldn't believe how self conscious he was.

Nothing prepared me for that response, "of course it is." I reached my free hand up and laid it on his soft face. My other hand was still planted on his bare chest, but when I touched his face, I felt something else, something under my hand reverberated, and it took me a moment to realize that it was his heartbeat.

My eyes widened slightly at the feel of it, the pulsing and thudding, he saw my expression change, "what's the matter?" He asked, concern in his voice.

My look of awe turned slowly into a smile, "I can feel your heart beating."

A look of disbelief crossed his face, he frantically put his hand to his chest, I placed my hand over his and smiled. Emotion flooded his face as he felt his heart beating for the first time in ninety some odd years. His eyes shut and a smile of relief came over his face, "I can't believe it," he whispered. When he opened his eyes, I saw tears in them. I stretched up to reach his face and kissed him, over and over again on his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, as he buried his face in my neck and held me tight to him.

I lay back down against the pillows and Edward curled up against me, laying his head against my chest, he sighed deeply and kissed my neck softly. It was starting to get cloudy outside, like it was going to rain or snow, and gray light now filled his bedroom. A feeling of drowsiness began to come over me, it was over, Edward was here and he was fine and we were together. A feeling of peace and of being whole again came over me as he pulled the heavy comforter over us and we fell asleep together for the very first time.