I wake to the sound of low voices speaking. I can feel Edward's breath blowing out evenly on the top of my head as he sleeps. He's shaven and clean and bandaged now, which is unfamiliar, but he's still Edward, and that comforts me.

"I'm just not sure how we're to proceed with… this," a woman's voice sounds. She has a soft, southern drawl, and I know who she is immediately, because Edward's mother is from the south, and he lived there until he was three.

I crack my eyes open to see the woman gesturing towards our shared bed. Caramel coloured hair and green eyes remind me of Edward. She looks tired, and stressed, but she's lovely - like a 1950's movie star. Despite everything she must have been through, she's dressed impeccably.

"They'll be ok," a man assures her from her side in a more neutral accent. He's lovely as well. Blonde, with angular features and long legs stretched out before him on the chair. It's easy to see where Edward inherited everything. "They're in shock. It's understandable, even if it is a little jarring."

Charlie, who's sitting with them, grunts in agreement, obviously not able to contribute anything of merit. He's not the loquacious type, and this makes me smile a little.

"Bella, honey, are you awake?" he asks, and I'm busted. I open my eyes fully and his face lights up.

"Hi Dad," I murmur, my voice thick with sleep. He jumps up and pours me a glass of water. I drink it down greedily, and then look at the couple, embarrassed at my unrefined behaviour. They both smile back, although tentatively.

"Hi, Bella," the woman says. Her voice is quiet and soothing. She's worried she'll frighten me.

"Hello," I say shyly. I'm fighting the urge to hide my face in Edward's shoulder. I don't, but only for fear that it would make me look sillier than I already do.

"My name is Esme. I'm Edward's momma. This is Carlisle," she tilts her head in his direction, "his daddy." She laughs nervously. Her voice is a little bit hilarious. Carlisle nods his head in greeting. He has a kind smile that reminds me of Edward. I smile back, hoping to alleviate some of the awkwardness. I already know a lot about them, and everyone Edward cares about.

You can learn a lot about a person when you're confined to a dark room with them for an extended period.

"Bella, honey, why aren't you in your own bed?" Charlie asks gently. It's as though he thinks that speaking at normal volume will break me.

"Because…" I struggle for words, "it's just better like this." I doubt they believe me. We're cramped into the tiny bed, tangled together due to a lack of space. It doesn't look better.

I feel better though.

Safer.

"Are y'all… together?" Esme asks, and I blanche, shocked that she'd conclude that. I take a moment to consider how we're positioned, and it starts to make more sense.

"Drop it mom," I hear Edward's scratchy voice. I relax at once, glad that I don't have to handle the inquisition on my own any longer. "We're not together. We're just used to this. It's better."

I nod, because that's the best way I can think of to phrase it. Our parents don't look appeased, so I try to explain how we had to rely on each other when we were taken.

"When we were… when we…" I stumble over the words, unable to get them out. A long, wracking shiver courses through me at the thought of telling our parents what it was like. Edward feels it and his arm comes to rest on the back of my neck. It's a possessive gesture, but I can feel myself calming as he gently rubs his thumb over my nape.

"Look, can we discuss it later?" He's irritated now. I've set off his protective instinct and he's defensive. Charlie looks away, appropriately abashed. Carlisle does the same, but Esme's curious eyes are fixed on his hand.

She catches me staring at her and looks away, instead eyeing her son over intently.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" she asks him. He shrugs, I feel his body move behind me. I feel awkward here, in the way of their conversation, so I make a move to stand.

He stops me.

"What are you doing?" he asks, looking me in the eye. He wasn't like this when we were away, but I assume that's because he knew that we couldn't lose each other. Out here, in the real world, it could happen easily.

"Bathroom," I murmur and he nods. I feel his eyes on me as I walk to the bathroom. I can hear Esme asking her son more questions. He barely responds. A few minutes later, I emerge, feeling more awkward than before I left, if possible. I lean on what was meant to be my bed, trying to fight back the discomfort I feel at being on my own so Edward can talk to his parents.

He looks at me like I've grown a third eye in the middle of my forehead.

"Why are you over there?" he questions. He gives a nod, indicating that I'm required on the bed. Trying not to look as relieved as I feel, I return to his side. I sit at the bottom of the bed, careful not to get in the way of his injured leg. He reaches out a hand for me, and I take it happily.

Our parents look dumbfounded.

"I have to keep her safe, and this is the best way," he offers by way of explanation. A tear runs down his mothers face at his words, and I'm confused. Doesn't she want us to keep each other safe?

The French man had Edward by one arm, the blonde had him by the other. Of course, he was fighting them, spitting profanities. He always did, and it never got him anywhere.

" I'll kill you my fucking self, I swear to Christ! Let me the fuck go!"

They laughed as if he'd just told some clever joke.

The blonde sent a knee into Edward's stomach, and he buckled. They released his arms, and he slumped to the floor. The blonde sent two swift kicks into his ribs. Edward cried out, and that frightened me even more. Normally, he never gave them the privilege of seeing the pain they caused, because they enjoyed it.

"Please!" I cried, drawing their attention to me. "Please, stop hurting him!"

"Aw," the blonde cooed. "Lookee here, she's all protective. You gonna go all mother hen on us, are you honey?"

I shuddered at the term of affection.

"Just… please, stop. He won't fight anymore," I whispered. "He's too hurt."

The French man had the decency to move back towards the door. The blonde stepped away from Edward and watched with perverse intrigue as I crawled over to him.

Edward's breathing was irregular, he was obviously in great pain. His arms were wrapped around his stomach. I leaned down close and brushed his messy hair from his face.

"You're a jackass," I murmured in his ear, too low for the blonde to hear. He was obviously interested in our interaction, and I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of eavesdropping.

"Whatever," Edward dismissed me. "At least they aren't going to take you out there now."

I gently rested my forehead against his shoulder, trying to convey my gratitude and hide my irritation at once. He'd done this for me.

"Thank you," I breathed.

"Don't mention it," he said, and wheezed out a gentle chuckle. The sound made my eyes brim with tears. We sat together on the floor until the blonde got bored and left the room. Him, clutching his stomach, me crying softly and stroking his hair, trying as best I could to help ease his suffering.

As soon as the blonde left, I helped manoeuvre him back to the mattress. He was suffering, but trying his best to hide it. A few hisses and sighs got out though. Each one stabbed at me like a needle. He was suffering because he wanted to stop them from hurting me.

I pulled his tired, broken body onto the mattress, placing him closest to the wall, and furthest from the door. If the men came back, they'd reach me before him. It wasn't much, but it was the best protection I could offer him. I had to protect him anyway I could, just as he did for me.

"My poor, poor baby boy," Esme murmurs, and nestles her head in her husband's shoulder. Her shoulders rise and fall as she tries to stop her tears. Charlie and Carlisle look distressed too. I can't understand it. I look up at Edward, and he's just as perplexed.

"So, how long were we gone?" Edward asks conversationally. I look down. I don't want to hear about, or talk about any of it.

"47 days," Esme murmurs. I gasp and Edward's hand tightens around mine. Honestly, I'm a little surprised it wasn't longer. It felt like I'd spent my whole life in there.

"And why the fuck didn't you find us sooner?" His voice is angry. I pull my legs up to my chest so I don't have to watch the confrontation go down. Edward would always challenge the men, and they would punish him for it, at times severely.

"Do not speak like that in front of your mother," Carlisle says, and I flinch back from the slight hardness in his voice. Edward sits further up right, clearly preparing to defend himself.

"We weren't contacted for over a fortnight," his says quickly, trying to dispel his son's anger. This is strange. Normally, the men taunt him until boiling point, and then punish him for being rude. "I think they did that to try and get us panicked and compliant. We spent the remainder of that time talking to police and trying every means at our disposal to find you."

"Obviously, you didn't try fucking hard enough," he says rudely. "Do you have any idea what we went through?" I tuck my head further into my knees. I don't want to hear it.

"Of course you fucking don't," he spits before anyone can respond. "You could never even begin to understand what it was like for us."

"Edward, please…" Esme's voice trails off. She looks so sad.

"No, Mom." His dismissal is cold. Carlisle warned him, and he's going to be in trouble now.

I pull my hand out of his and cover my ears. I can't do this.

"Bella?" I peek to my left to see his face shift from anger to remorse in an instant. "Shit, I'm so fucking sorry." His hand stretches out tentatively, and after a moment, I take it. "I won't talk about it anymore." I smile at him, and he smiles back softly.

Charlie clears his throat, and I flinch. I'm not used to having other people around all the time. Even with only five people in the room, it feels crowded. Everyone's looking at us.

I don't know what they want.

The nurse bustles in again to check our vitals, stitches and Edward's knee. I'm forced to move back to my bed momentarily, and Edward is furious. He keeps it to himself, but I can tell. I think his parents can too, especially his mom.

The nurse finally leaves and he beckons me back over with a flick of his fingers. I sit on the end of the bed. We just look at each other for a while, and I feel the strain on me starting to lift. He's here, and we're both safe. I can't ask for more than that.

Later, Alice arrives. I've separated myself from Edward, who's being x-rayed to check the state of his leg and some suspected damage to his ribs. I feel the strain I always feel when he's not around, but everyone assures me that he's in perfectly capable hands and that no one will hurt him.

Esme goes with him, and I'm sure that if there's one person who wants him safe as much as I do, it's her. It relaxes me, if only a little. My no longer being alone in the room helps slightly as well.

Alice is so much more beautiful than I remembered her being. There had been moments when wasn't sure I'd ever see her again, and the sight of her is overwhelming. She bursts into the door, with a giant bow in her hair and clutching the Birkin bag she got for her 16th birthday. She drops it on the floor the moment she sees me. She launches herself across the room and onto my bed, wrapping her arms around my neck. I can hear her sniffling in my ear.

"Don't you ever leave me again," she says, as if I had a choice in the matter.

"I'm sorry," I murmur around her headpiece.

"I didn't mean it like that!" she cries and pulls back to examine me. "I just… oh my god, I'm so happy to see you!" She tightens her grip again. She's both sobbing and laughing, a strange combination, but it makes me smile regardless.

Eventually, she pulls back. She settles on the bottom half of the bed and just stares at me. I look away, feeling very uncomfortable with her scrutiny.

"You look awful."

"I know." There's no point denying it.

"What happened to you?"

"Alice…" I trail off. I really, really don't want to discuss this with her. She nods.

"Alright, I won't push it."

"Thank you." She has no idea how thankful I am.

"So where's this fella of yours?" she asks casually. I'm perplexed.

"Fella?"

"Yeah, your room mate."

Oh.

"Edward."

"Yeah. Is he cute?"

I blanche.

" Alice!"

"Well, sorry." Her apology is completely insincere. "I infer from your reaction that he is cute, then?"

"I haven't exactly been thinking about that kind of thing lately, Alice," I say, my voice scathing.

"Alright, alright, I'll drop it," she concedes. I'm glad.

We sit together, talking about everything I've missed, which amounts to very little. After a while, Edward is wheeled back into the room. Alice is fascinated by him. She mouths 'cute' at me and then jumps up to introduce herself.

His eyes focus on the large bow adorning her head and then he looks at me warily. I nod to him and he relaxes slightly. He trusts my judgement that Alice is safe.

"Hi!" she cries. He blinks at her overzealous approach. "You're Edward. I'm Alice Brandon!"

"I know who you are," he says lowly, clearly still sceptical. "Bella told me a lot about you while we were away."

Her answering smile is gigantic.

"Well, that's good I guess, but I know absolutely nothing about you, and that doesn't sit well with me, to be perfectly honest."

"Alice, please," I interject before she can start up her barrage of questions. "We're tired and not well right now. You can talk to him another time."

I feel bad dismissing her, and for a moment, she looks hurt. She reigns it in though. I think she understands that she can be a little overwhelming.

"I'm sorry," she relents. "I just missed you so much."

I smile softly and she returns to my side, pulling me into a hug.

"I should probably get going," she murmurs into my ear. "I'll come see you when you get home. I'm so, so glad that you're back, and you're safe." She picks up her bag from my bedside and heads over to the doorway, where she stops.

"Goodbye, Edward," she says with a wave and her most winning smile. "It was nice to meet you."

"You too, Alice." He flicks two fingers up in a half-hearted wave. She smiles at me once more and then leaves.

"Can you come here?" he asks as soon as she's out of the room. I climb onto his bed again and he takes my hands in his. He seems to visibly calm when he does this, and I definitely feel better. "Those tests took for-fucking-ever and I just… I don't like not being able to see you, and know you're ok."

He looks slightly embarrassed to be telling me this, and I can't figure out why. Of course it scares him. It scares me just as much. I squeeze his hands and smile reassuringly. After a moment, he smiles back. He knows that I get it, even though no one else does, or probably ever will. That's just the way it is now.

After a short while, Edward's parents come back. They tell me Charlie had to pop into the office for a little while but will be back shortly. I don't mind. Charlie's a busy man, I'm used to it. As the District Attorney in the Miami-Dade area, he's always busy. I've never felt neglected. I know he loves me, but he loves his job too, and that's fine.

We talk for a while, the four of us, not about anything too stressful, mainly polite small talk. Esme asks about my interests, my life. I struggle to recall a lot of it. It seems hazy, dulled by the glaring memory of our time away. Those months seem to hang over every other aspect of my life, making all the other details, the things by which I defined myself, seem less significant.

It disgusts me.

Edward, being Edward, can see me starting to stress, and asks his parents to go out and pick us up some fast food, claiming that he is craving a burger. Esme seems surprised, but Carlisle has a knowing look in his eye. He can see that Edward's protective instinct has kicked in, and he doesn't want other people around. They leave together, even though Esme suggests Carlisle stays behind.

"I'm sorry," I say when they leave the room. "It's just a little overwhelming."

"I know. Talking to people is really fucking draining. I never noticed before. I'm sorry about my mom giving you the Spanish Inquisition." He leans back on the bed, and I lean back with him. I'm tired, which is odd because I've barely done anything other than talk to people.

We lie side by side in companionable silence, my head resting on his arm. It's just as soothing as it always was, but now we're clean and safe, so it's even sweeter. Esme eventually returns with a bag of take out.

"I got your favourite," she tells Edward, her voice laced with emotion, as if buying him food means the world to her. I can't understand why it would. I guess it's a mom thing.

I look at him questioningly and he shrugs. She pulls the wheelie bed table thing over and starts unpacking food. There are two bizarrely large burgers and what looks like a bucket of fries on the table.

"Eat," she commands. She looks to me next. "There's enough in there for you too, honey. I wasn't sure what you liked so I got… I'll just hush up now." She gives her nervous laugh again and takes a seat on the couch under the window.

"Thank you, Mrs Cullen."

"I'll have none of that," she says with an easy wave of her hand. "Call me Esme, or momma."

I have to swallow back a laugh. Edward told me that she's a typical southern mom, but this is just… I love her already.

She gazes at us expectantly until he takes the first bite. He moans quietly and smiles at her, his cheeks full of food. A tear falls down her face and her smile is almost as large as his meal.

I cannot, for the life of me, understand what is going on.

I look at him to see him eying me. He holds out his hands, which are full of burger, in silent offering. Silent because he's still trying to masticate the obscenity.

I shake my head, because I can't think of anything worse than wolfing down half a cow right now. His questioning look turns into a disapproving one at my refusal. He thinks I'm purposely not eating so he can have the food. I'd done this a couple of times while we were gone, because seeing him waste away was one of the worst parts of the whole ordeal.

Now, however, a shortage of food is not one of my immediate concerns.

I don't want to fight him on this, so I reach over and pick up a handful of fries, chewing on them slowly. They're good, but feel strange sliding down my throat. Too heavy. I'm used to granola bars and the occasional apple.

Edward's a few bites into his burger, and I think he's starting to realise what I did immediately. His face has changed and his chewing has slowed. I smirk at him, and he scowls. He knows I'm onto him, and that I'm finding amusement in his suffering. I smile wider, unrepentant.

He puts the burger down and Esme's face falls like she's failed him somehow. She is a strange woman, but I feel terrible for her. So, I pick it up and take a bite. It's horrible. But, like the flick of a switch, her smile is back. Edward presses a hand to my back, a silent thanks. I lean back against him as I force myself to swallow it down. He hands me a cup of water, and I chug from it greedily. It does almost nothing to dispel the taste.

Edward eats a bit more, although I'm positive it's only to appease his mother. This makes me giggle under my breath. Because we're so close on the bed, he of course notices. He leans into me and whispers into my ear.

"What are you laughing at, hmmm?"

"You." My voice is almost silent, but I know he can hear it.

"Oh really?" he breathes.

"You're a big old momma's boy."

I can feel his cheeks lift against my hair as he smirks.

"That I am."

I laugh quietly. I thought he'd at least deny it.

I look up at Esme. She's watching us, and her smile has somehow gotten bigger. After a moment, she meets my eyes and clears her throat, abashed at being caught staring.

"I should go… find that husband of mine," she says awkwardly, then stands. She pats down her skirt, grabs her purse and darts from the room. I laugh. Edward leans back against the mattress, dragging me with him. It makes a weird crinkling sound, which I hate.

"Finally, some peace."

"She's lovely," I tell him. He snorts.

"She's a character, that's for sure." I laugh, because she definitely is an unusual woman.

"The voice is just… I love it."

"The novelty wears off, believe me."

A moment passes.

"She thinks we're together," I murmur.

"She doesn't understand just yet. She'll work it out, though." His voice is so sure.

"You think?"

"Yep." There's no room for doubt in his tone, so I accept it. I settle beside him, trying hard to focus on the fact that we're finally free, and not on all the millions of questions that now float in the air around us.

And for a short moment, everything is perfect.

AN: Ok, so some housekeeping matters to attend to. Add me on twitter. Right now. netrasexual. Kthnxbai.

*smooch*