A/N: Oh ,boy. Here we go.

Edward was confused.

Coming out of sleep unexpectedly was always confusing, but this was something different. Since his brain hadn't restarted yet, he was only aware of sensation. His body ached and no wonder. He was curled up in a small space which was odd. He had an otherwise empty king-sized bed, after all. His heart was beating too fast. He hadn't just woken up out of nowhere; he'd been startled awake.

"Oof." Edward blinked, a little breathless at a sharp pain at his belly.

It took another half-minute for Edward to realize the random pains were a sharp elbow striking him. That was what had his heart racing. There was a girl in his arms. He blinked again. Bella. Her name was Bella, and she wasn't sleeping peacefully.

She was asleep. Her eyes were closed. She murmured frantically in her sleep, and as Edward's mind became more alert, he could make out the words.

"No. Please. Mike. Please, no." She said those three words in variations over and over again, and as she did, she struggled.

Edward vaguely remembered when he fell asleep, she'd been draped on top of him. Now he was on his side, his back pressed against the wall in her tiny bed. Tiny dorm room bed… But Edward couldn't think about that now. His arm, loose around her at first, had tightened around her when she began flailing, and that was a mistake.

"No!" She shoved away from him so hard, she fell right off the bed and onto her ass. Edward pushed up onto his arms, peering down at her. She blinked, sightless, her chest heaving. She was hyperventilating, he realized, and he slid off the bed, onto the floor.

With a wordless cry, she scrambled backward, crab-like, away from him. "Don't," she said between gasps. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I'm sorry."

Edward had to swallow down the bile that rose, burning, in his throat. He'd spent some time volunteering at a women's shelter-one of the million things he'd done to fill an abundance of free time. He'd seen panic attacks and night terrors.

"Bella," he said, keeping his voice steady. "You're safe. Bella. No one is going to hurt you. Listen to me. No one is going to hurt you."

She was still breathing too fast, but she was blinking rapidly now. "Mike?" she asked, uncertain.

"No. I'm Edward."

Bella pulled her legs up to her chin, sitting with her back against her roommate's thankfully still-empty bed. She buried her face in her knees, just calming down. "Fuck," she said.

Edward crawled on his hands and knees the few feet to the other side of the room and sat next to her, leaving a good amount of space between them. He briefly touched the tips of his fingers to her knuckles, just letting her know he was there. She cringed at first, but she turned her head enough to the side that she saw his hand open, palm up. After another minute, she took his hand and squeezed. Hard. Edward didn't protest. Broken fingers were probably the least of what he deserved.

With his free hand, he rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out just what the fuck had happened last night. There'd been no alcohol involved, and yet his memories had the same hazy quality to them.

It was her words. Edward had only been half paying attention before Bella took to the she spoke and somehow managed to rip him apart in the space of a few stanzas. In over a decade, he'd never heard the right set of words to describe what it had been like to watch his baby son fade away right in front of his eyes. The profound grief. The helpless fury. The sheer terror. The maelstrom that built inside him with no outlet-a creature clawing and scratching and destroying him quietly, dragging him toward an abyss. It was chaos and pain and then…

The silence. The terrible, yawning, desolate silence of his heart.

She knew.

He wasn't an idiot. He could read well enough between the lines. Their situations weren't the same at all. Whomever Mike was, Edward could bet he wasn't dead. But despite her words, and despite whatever horror she'd live through, Bella had owned that stage. She looked the part too-platform "these boots are made for walking" boots, sleek black skirt, fishnets, and a cropped leather jacket. What she was wearing wasn't revealing. It was the kind of get up that suggested she wouldn't have looked out of place in a superhero movie.

All night he kept trying to remind himself she was a kid-and she was. She had to be. He knew a Freshman dorm when he saw one, and now, trembling after whatever god-awful nightmare she'd awoken from, she looked heartbreakingly young and fragile. He really didn't know he was thinking of her that way until she was kissing him, and then…

Then it had all happened really fast.

The pressure around his fingers eased, and Bella lifted her head, exhaling in a gust. "I'm sorry." She stared straight forward, her voice neither strong and clear as it had been all night, nor fearful and tremulous as it had been just a few minutes before. It was empty and dead.

"Don't be." He hesitated, but he moved his hand to touch her knee.

Bella shot up to her feet, and Edward could have kicked himself. It had been an innocent gesture, and she was still wearing her skirt-though her fishnets had been tossed across the room ages ago-but after an attack like that, he should have known better than to touch her. "I'm sorry. I-"

"No. Look." She paced a couple of steps back and forth, running a hand through her hair. "This is awkward, and fuck...it's so cliche." She stood still, rolling her head back so she could stare at the ceiling. "But I don't do things like this." She gulped. Her next words ran together. "And I really need it to not happen again."

Edward looked up at her, watching, a little dumbfounded, as she wrung her hands. Then he couldn't help it. He laughed, rubbing his eyes again in relief. "Thank Christ."

He regretted the words the minute he said them, and he was on his feet, his hands out, imploring. "I didn't mean it like that." That was, quite possibly, the rudest thing he'd ever said in his life. "I'm just trying to say we're on the same page. I think. The it happened and it was good." Damn good. "But you're not interested in breakfast or a repeat performance."

Her shoulders slumped, and she glanced at him from under her eyelashes, sheepish. "Yeah. That's the page."

"That page is good with me," he said, offering her a small smile. He started to look around for the few missing items of clothing he had.

"You don't… I mean, it's dark. It feels kind of shitty to kick you out now," she said, watching him.

It was painfully obvious that she hadn't been lying when she said she didn't do things like this. She sounded exactly like what she was: a girl who seemed to be navigating the often-awkward morning after for…

The first time?

Edward shook that thought away. They had already agreed it was none of his business, and in all honesty, he didn't want to make it his business. "You're not kicking me out. I'm wide awake now. I'll have no problem getting home."

She helped him gather his things and walked him to the door. There, Edward hesitated. His fingers twitched at his sides, and then he raised his hand to cup her face. He didn't kiss her, though he had to fight that impulse, but he did run his thumb over her lips. With a sigh, he let his hand drop back down at his side. "Take care of yourself," he said.

He walked away, wondering why his parting words felt woefully inadequate.

~0~

Edward got home and fell into his bed, but he only slept for three hours before a persistent knock at his door drew him right back out.

"What the hell happened to you last night?" Alice asked by way of greeting.

"Good morning to you too, Alice," Edward said, tightening his robe around him and stepping back so his sister could come in. She didn't move past the foyer. She was looking at him with that pinched, hurt expression he hated. "I'm sorry."

"You told Jasper you'd stay."

"Something came up."

A ghost of a memory came to him with those words. Alice and Edward were the same age, born just weeks apart. The Cullens had adopted her when she was three, and she'd been Edward's best friend most of his life. Once upon a time, she might have snickered at his words, making a risque double entendre. She would have been right in this case, but there was no way he was going to tell Alice about what he'd done. But for a brief moment, he really wanted to.

"I'll forgive you...if-"

He raised an eyebrow. "If?"

Her expression turned pleading. "Come to brunch with us. Jasper, Damien, and me."

Edward took an involuntary step backward, and his sister pounced. "Come on, Edward. Damien misses you."

"Damien is six months old. He doesn't know who I am, and he doesn't care."

"But he will. That's the point. You were a great uncle to Emmett's kids."

Edward scoffed. "Aiden hates me."

"Because he was ten years old when you abandoned everyone."

"Then I must not be a great uncle."

At first, Alice looked like she was about to argue. Then she slumped a bit, wrapping her hands around her arms. "Edward...I miss you. You're hardly around, but you've been a ghost since I got pregnant with Damien. It feels a lot like you're mad at me."

"That's ridiculous. Did you really come over here to pick a fight with me?"

"No, you moron. I came over here because I miss the hell out of you. And because you're finally doing to me what you did to everyone else ten years ago."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, don't play dumb, Edward. When was the last time you came to a family thing? All of us? But you used to see me and Jasper fairly frequently until we changed our minds about having kids. Well, fuck that." She took a step toward him, and he took another step back. "Don't pull away from us, from me. I want my son to have his whole family."

Edward lashed out then, knocking over the end table in the hall, sending mail flying everywhere. "That fact you even think that's possible is why I stay the hell away."

Alice's eyes were red-rimmed by then, and he could read the grief in her features. "He's not gone from us, Edward. He-"

"Shut up, Alice. Don't start that bullshit. He is gone from us. If you're going to tell me his spirit is with us, or he's alive in our hearts, or whatever other nonsense people tell themselves to feel okay about this kind of crap, you can save it. He's not here. Trust me. No one knows that better than me."

He walked a few steps away from his sister, rubbing his eyes, trying to put walls around the grief that always lurked just beneath the surface of his skin. This was why he didn't see his family. They always set off a domino effect, and he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about things like how he should be enjoying the last few months of his son's childhood before he became a sullen pre-teen. He would start wondering about what Xavier would have been like, if he would have liked music, or if he'd be able to draw. Would he be a quiet, shy boy or loud and obnoxious like his uncle Emmett?

"Look, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night," he said, not looking at Alice. "We'll...get dinner or something this week."

"You and me, or all four of us?" Alice asked.

Edward huffed out a breath. He knew his sister well enough to understand her pushing him to go out with her, Jasper, and the baby was a compromise. She could have been asking him to come to Emmett's twins' birthday, which was next week. "All of you," he said, and then walked to the door, opening it for her.

Her gaze lingered on him a few beats longer, as though she were considering pushing, but then she nodded. "Okay. Go back to sleep, you lazy ass."

They hugged, and Edward tried his best to mean it. He knew his family was hurt by his distance, and Alice was right. He'd been closer to her than just about anyone until about a year ago.

When the door was closed, and Edward was alone again, he leaned with his back against the wall. He breathed in and out through his nose, looking around his neat, empty house, and he tried his hardest to keep his mind blank.

It didn't work, but then, it never did.

~Early May~

Since his professor liked to hurry off directly after class, Edward typically spent a few minutes on the bench outside the classroom. He rifled through his notes, ignoring the steady stream of students around him as he made a list of the names and events he wanted to delve into on his own.

When he was done, he pulled his bag onto his lap and began to pack up. As he did, a flyer caught his eye. The poetry club was having another open slam poetry reading tonight.

Automatically, Edward's thoughts turned to the poet-girl he'd spent a night with. He'd thought of her off and on these last five weeks. He hadn't been with very many women since Kate, but Bella stuck out for a few reasons. Edward tapped the side of his bag.

It wasn't as though he wanted to see her because he wanted a repeat performance; he really didn't. He hadn't been lying to her when he said he admired what she did. If he had the chance to see any artist he admired perform, he would take it. That was all. She never had to know he was there.

Besides, Jasper would be there, obviously. Ever since Alice's little hissy fit, he'd been trying to be better about seeing his family. When he could work in a visit without seeing everyone all at once, so much the better.

He didn't hate his family. He was just the grumpy prematurely old man, and why should they have to deal with that?

Edward stalled, getting a coffee for himself and his brother-in-law. The event still hadn't started when he slipped in the back. His eyes swept the room, looking for Bella. Just because he didn't want her to get the wrong idea. That was all.

Jasper found him first. "Hey, Edward. What are you doing here?"

"I come bearing gifts of coffee," he said, proffering him one of the cups in his hand.

His brother-in-law grinned. "Ah, I knew you were good for something. But really, what are you doing here?"

Edward shrugged. "I enjoyed the style of poetry."

"It can be very powerful."

Edward hummed and cleared his throat. "There was a girl who performed last time who was particularly good. The White Knight poem."

Jasper cocked his head. "Bella Swan."

"Maybe. Is she reading again?"

When Jasper didn't answer right away, Edward looked over to him. His brother-in-law was studying him with a strange look on his face. Edward quirked an eyebrow. It was a perfectly innocent question, but Jasper's expression suggested he heard something Edward hadn't said. It was an annoying quirk the man had, and Edward steadied his stare. There was no story there.

Jasper gestured with his chin over Edward's shoulder. "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

Edward's eyes widened and he fought back a grimace as he turned around. Sure enough, Bella was standing behind him, but that wasn't what had him doing a double-take. Whatever he might have said went out the window. He took a step forward, his hand out just in case he needed to steady her. Her pallor was sickly, and she looked like she was about to faint.

"It is you," she said in a strange voice.

"Are you all right?"

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, swaying alarmingly.

He touched a hand to her shoulder. "Come on. Let's get you some air."

Her movements were somewhat jerky, like her body couldn't decide whether or not she could stand to be near him. He had no idea what she was thinking, but getting her out into the fresh air seemed like a priority.

Once outside, she sank right down on the concrete, sitting with her head hanging between her knees. Edward hovered, not knowing quite what to do. She couldn't look more different than the first time he saw her. Back then, she'd looked the part of a young woman ready to kick ass and take names. Today, she was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. Even before she'd sat down, she'd looked huddled and small. She shivered, and Edward shrugged out of his coat. April evenings in Flagstaff, AZ were still quite cold.

Bella reached a hand up to finger the fabric of his coat. "Thank you," she said, sounding a little shaky. "I got so dizzy." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

Edward hesitated only a minute before he decided the truth was harmless. Besides, his parents had taught him sincere compliments should be given whenever possible and to whomever deserved them. "It wasn't planned. I saw a flyer and I wanted to hear you read again." He coughed into his hand. "I wasn't planning on bothering you," he said in case she was nervous about that.

He saw her lip twitch. She made to get up, and when he offered her a hand, she took it. She let go right away, taking a few steps backward and crossing her arms. She pressed her lips into a thin line.

Troubled. She was definitely troubled about something.

"Maybe it's a good thing you're here," she murmured, so soft he wasn't sure at first that she'd spoken at all.

He ducked his head, trying to catch her eyes. "What did you say?"

She sighed, looking around at the milling students. She started to walk toward the back of the building. Bewildered and concerned for her, Edward followed.

"I didn't expect to see you," Bella began out of nowhere, already stumbling and tripping over her words. "I thought about asking Professor Whitlock about you. I saw you talking to him before. I figured he had to know you."

"Uh, Jasper is married to my sister."

"Oh," she said. Her pace picked up, but she doubled back just as quickly, beginning to pace. "This is… I shouldn't… I didn't…"

Worried, Edward reached out, grabbing her by her shoulders just to get her to stop. She finally looked up at him, her eyes tortured. "I'm pregnant," she blurted.

Edward stopped breathing. His stomach dropped down his feet. His mind went white, and his body seized, at a loss for what to do first. He was frozen for four eons-long seconds.

Then he sucked in a breath, his mind actually beginning to work again, though only with a base instinct. He reacted without conscious thought. There was what was real and what was not. Those words couldn't exist. They couldn't. There was no way he could deal with what those two words meant. Only one woman had ever uttered those words to him, and she had been euphoric. They had been euphoric, and this…It was abhorrent-incongruent with any possible reality. His brain rejected it.

Out of his mind, he grabbed her by the upper arms and shook her. Hard. He heard her cry out, and yet he kept on shaking. "You're not. You're not."

"Stop it!" Her tone was sharp, and she tried to twist out of his grip. He held her fast. "Let go."

He didn't. He shook her again. "This can't happen. This isn't going to happen. Do you understand? It can't."

She grunted and brought her leg up, kneeing him hard in the groin. She bolted as he fell.

That's how Jasper found him a few minutes later, still on the ground, though kneeling now, hands at his groin, chanting, "fuck," in a frantic whisper while he tried not to throw up.

It didn't work. He turned to the the side and retched just as Jasper dropped to a knee beside him.

"Edward? What the hell is going on?"

Edward groaned. The agony of his wounded cock had the effect of clearing his head. As physical pain slowly abated, self-disgust and unadulterated terror brought on a completely different kind of pain. "I fucked up," he said in a raw whisper. His stomach twisted sickeningly as as the full realization of what he'd just done to that poor girl settled on his shoulders. He threaded his fingers through his hair and pulled savagely. "Jesus Christ. I fucked up."

A/N: Many thanks to songster and myheroin.

Hmmm. Okay, so. I'm going to try my damndest to get you another chapter out before I leave on a trip in a little less than a week. But fair warning. I might fail miserably in that goal as I have two papers due in school this week. EEEEK.

Anyway. How are we feeling, kids?