*Fiddling was had. Choices were made. Words were added. All mistakes are mine.

*Important notes about next week's update at the bottom!


Song:

"Miracle," Shinedown


Chapter 34

Edward

Grit coats my skin. Nausea churns my gut, and the acrid sharpness of bile creeps up my throat and spills onto my tongue. My wounds throb. Sweat drips off my brow and stings my eyes as the sun beats down on me. Violent explosions shake the ground all around me as bullets fly over my head. Deafening blasts echo again and again in my ears, and I hunch over, pressing myself farther into the dirt and sand of the ravine.

God, please don't let me die here.

The faint thump thump thump of helo blades cuts through the chaos surrounding me.

Salvation.

I stagger to my feet, but before I can run toward my rescuers, a trill of laughter rises above all the other sounds. When I spin around, my stomach falls, because there in the shimmering heat in the distance is my heart … my family.

Bella, Jacob, and Seth walk hand in hand toward me with bright smiles on their faces.

"No! Get back! Get out of here!"

At the sound of my voice, they start to run toward me. The closer they get, the stronger the panic seizing my body becomes.

I can't move.

I can't speak.

I'm immobilized by fear.

I can only watch helplessly as they run through a hail of bullets and explosions. Agony burns through my veins as they are caught in the crossfire, and their screams tear through my soul.

With a gasping breath, I jolt awake.

My eyes dart around the room as I try to reassure myself the terrible nightmare was just that—my mind betraying me.

Sterile, white walls bathed in shadows surround me. Medical devices to my left and right beep softly. The binding around my torso, the bulky bandage around my left arm, and the torture device on my left leg—not to mention the pain radiating from all of my injuries—remind me where I am.

The hospital. Landstuhl, Germany.

It was just a nightmare. I'm safe.

But even though I can see that I'm no longer lost in the desert, the panic running through my blood takes a while to ebb. My heart pounds erratically as sweat cools my skin, and it takes several deep breaths to get ahold of my control.

My nurse, Irina, waltzes into the room with a concerned smile on her face. "How are we doing in here? The monitors got so loud I could hardly hear the TV at the nurse's station." She winks as she gently takes my wrist to check my pulse.

"Sorry about that." My voice sounds raspy even to my own ears. I lick my lips and swallow past the dryness. "Can I get more water?" I shift to get comfortable and wince as pain shoots up my spine and from my ankle to my hip. "And maybe some more pain medication?"

"Of course. It's almost time for your next dose." She picks up the small, pale pink pitcher from the rolling table beside my bed and shakes it. "And you should have called me to refill this when you ran out. I'll go get your medication then come back to check that dressing." Before I can reply, she slips through the door.

As my heart rate returns to normal, my unfocused gaze drifts to the window. It's black as pitch outside under a starless sky. I don't need to look at the clock to know it's the middle of the night. With nothing to do but try to get more rest, I lay my head back against the pillow and close my eyes.

The journey to get here was a long and arduous one. The first flight took me to the base hospital where I was poked and prodded and bombarded with endless questions and field tests, My body was spent and broken, and all I really wanted to do was call my wife and then sleep for a week. But the doctors' first priority after assessing my condition and hydrating me was to wash days of filth from my body.

By the time the doctors determined I'd need to be transferred for surgery to fix my fucked-up leg, I had waited hours before I was granted the time to call home. For as long as I live, I'll never forget how good it felt to hear Bella's voice.

My insides vibrate with nervous anticipation as the phone rings. The second ring stops abruptly, and the clattering I hear is followed by a rushed, "Hello?"

"Bella." Her name escapes me on a choked breath.

"Oh my god. Edward. I—" Instantaneous and gut-wrenching, her sobs shatter my heart.

Suddenly, I can't get enough air into my lungs as I cry along with her.

I swipe at the tears running down my cheeks and press my forefinger and thumb against my closed eyes to try and stem the flow. "Shh, it's okay. I'm okay."

"I thought … I didn't think I'd ever hear your voice again or get to tell you I love you. Oh, god, I love you so much, Edward."

"I love you, too, baby."

"They told me you were shot. How … are you all right? Is it bad?" She stumbles over her words, and my heart twists. Imagining if our roles were reversed—if she were lying in a hospital half a world away and I was unable to get to her—I know it would kill me to be in her shoes.

"It's not bad. I got hit in the arm, and it went straight through, so they were able to stitch me up."

"Where are you now? When can I see you?"

"I'm in Germany. At Landstuhl. I'm stable, but they're talking about taking me into surgery soon. I think you should—"

"Surgery? They didn't mention surgery when they called me."

"It's nothing major. My leg got all messed up when I punched. They'll have to reset it and probably screw everything back together."

"Oh, Edward." Her voice is soft, and I can tell that she's holding back tears.

"Hey, it's okay," I reply just as softly. "All things considered, it's not that bad. Once I get this surgery over with, I'll need a few good meals and some rest, but it could be a whole hell of a lot worse." I swallow hard but attempt to sound positive. "At least this way, I know they won't be sending me back when I'm discharged."

She makes a strangled, choking sound. "What? Go back? Why would they send you back?"

I sigh. "Because, baby, I'd still have to fulfill my assignment."

"But now you don't have to?"

"No, Bella. I get to come home."

"I really like the sound of that."

"Me, too."

"So, when can I come see you? Should I try to get a flight out tonight?"

"Do you really want to come all this way just to sit next to my bed? Maybe it's better if you wait. They could transfer me again."

"Edward Anthony Cullen, you will not convince me to stay put, so don't even try."

The corner of my mouth turns up. "Yes, ma'am."

"Now," she says with a huff, "how do I get there?"

That call was a day and a half ago, and by my best guess, her Space-A flight should be arriving sometime in the morning and not a minute too soon.

My internal musing is interrupted when Irina comes back into the room with my water in one hand and a syringe in the other. "Okay, Lieutenant Colonel, let's get this into your system so you can get back to sleep. I hear you've got a very special visitor coming tomorrow."

Taking a freshly poured cup of water from her, I smile. "I do. My wife."

I sip from my cup and place it on the bedside tray while she injects the medication into my IV.

"She's a very lucky woman, being married to a national hero."

"No," I murmur as the medication works its magic and my eyes fall closed. "I'm the lucky one."


The early morning shuffle of a shift change wakes me. Once Irina gives me another dose of pain medication, she briefs the day nurse, Heidi, on my care plan. She rattles off my injuries and the procedures I've undergone since I arrived, as well as my medication schedule.

When Irina mentions my wife's impending visit, Heidi smiles. "I'll make sure she's personally escorted to your room, Lieutenant Colonel. I'm sure she's anxious to set eyes on you."

"Not half as anxious as I am."

An hour later, as the smell of breakfast wafts through the hallways, my door flies open, and standing in my doorway is one of the most glorious sights I've ever laid eyes on.

Looking like she hasn't slept in days and carrying one of my hoodies, my wife steps into the room. Her skin is pale and dark circles ring her eyes. I can see with my own eyes the toll this ordeal has taken on her, and the guilt breaks me a little more.

But I also feel an overwhelming sense of relief.

I've imagined this moment a million times in the last week, but nothing could have prepared me for what it feels like to finally be in the same room with her.

My eyes sting, and I blink away the building tears. Even in those brief moments when my eyes are closed, I'm terrified she'll disappear when they open. "Please tell me I'm not dreaming."

She smiles through her own tears. "If you are, then I am, too, and I don't want to wake up." Slowly, she approaches my bed and reaches for me hesitantly before lacing her fingers with mine. "I thought …"

Like a dam bursting, days of pent-up emotions spill out onto her cheeks. Her shoulders shake with her sobs, but even as she unravels before my eyes, she never loosens her grip on my hand.

"Come here."

Carefully, she crawls onto my bed on my less-injured side so I can wrap an arm around her.

I kiss the top of her head and press my nose into her hair, simply inhaling the essence of the most precious thing in my life. "God, it feels good to hold you, baby."

She nods against my chest, unable to form words as her tears soak through my hospital gown. Eventually, her tears slow, and when her cries soften to occasional sniffles, she looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes. "It was so hard … not knowing where you were, how you were. If you were still—" She closes her eyes and buries her face in my neck. "There were days when I wasn't sure if I'd ever see you again."

Guilt eats away at my soul as I think about what she had to endure in the days I was missing. My voice wavers. "I'm sorry."

She shakes her head. "No. No apologies. Don't you dare say you're sorry for surviving. I know you did everything you could to come back to me. I just …" She blows out a breath, and a shudder runs through her body. "I'm so overwhelmed right now."

My guilt melts away at her gentle admonishment. "What can I do to make it better?"

"Just hold me," she mumbles against my skin, "and never let me go."


It's difficult to eat my breakfast with one hand when it's delivered, but the last thing I want to do is let go of her.

"Are you sure you don't want some of this?" I ask for the third time. I glance at my tray then look back to her. "I doubt I can finish it anyway."

She shakes her head. "No, you need to eat it all."

"I know, but I don't think I can." The corner of my mouth lifts in a sad smile and I breathe a laugh. "You'd think I'd be devouring everything in sight, but I think the pain meds they have me on are messing with my appetite."

A frown mars her beautiful face as she reaches for my cheek with her free hand. "I hate seeing you so … not yourself."

"I just need a few home-cooked meals and I'll be good as new, baby. Don't worry too much. I'll bounce back." I drag her hand to my lips and place a kiss on her palm. "I love you."

"I love you, too." She runs her fingers along my jaw and scratches through the growth there. "I'm guessing there was no razor in your kit?"

I smile at her attempt to lighten the mood a little. "No. No razors." I run my hand along the more than week-long beard on my face. "Do you like it?"

"Hmm." She leans in close and brushes her nose along mine. "To give you an informed opinion, I think I'll have to test it out before you shave it off."

"Soon," I whisper.

"Soon."

Eventually, the exhaustion of her travel and my pain medication catch up with us. Carefully curled together on my bed, we drift off to sleep. But even with the feel of my wife in my arms, the nightmares creep up on me.

In my dream, my family is once again in harm's way, and a crashing explosion jolts my body awake.

Sweat rolls down my face and my rapid breaths make me feel lightheaded..

"Edward? Baby?"

I close my eyes and focus on taking even breaths.

"Honey?"

I lick my lips and nod. "Give me a sec'."

She pulls away, undoubtedly reaching for the call button. "Do you need the nurse? You're sweating bullets."

"I'll be fine. Just … give me a minute."

Keeping a small distance between us, Bella tries to soothe me, whispering reassurances and running her fingers through my hair.

When I feel steady, I open my eyes and turn to her. "Thank you."

She stares into my eyes, but it's not an entirely good feeling. In this moment, I feel vulnerable … exposed. But when she places her palm against my cheek, I also feel her love for me.

With a hint of trepidation, she finally asks, "Do you want to talk about it?"

I shake my head, whispering, "Not yet."

Pressing a kiss to my temple, she wraps an arm around me. "I'm here when you do."


"So, when can I go home?"

Bella's grasp on my hand tightens as we watch the doctor pull a chair to the side of the bed and sit.

"It's not quite that simple. Your surgical recovery is only part of the equation." He turns his attention to my wife. "Has anyone explained your husband's injuries in detail?"

She shakes her head. "No. I got an overview, but no one has given me any details."

"And to be honest, Doc," I interject, "I think I need a recap. I was so out of it, I'm not sure I fully understood everything they threw at me when I was brought in."

The doctor nods as if he expected our answers. He meets my eyes. "Obviously, when you were recovered, our priority was to assess and stabilize you. The gunshot wound was a through and through, so it only needed stitching. We ran a battery of tests to make sure there were no neck or spinal injuries—X-rays and a CT scan—and we found a vertebral compression fracture."

"Wait." Bella sits up straight. "He has a broken back?"

"In the strictest terms, yes."

I shake my head. "Broken?"

"It's rare but not impossible for some people with that injury to have little to no pain at first. The fracture is stable, though, meaning surgery isn't needed to correct it. It will heal over time, and you shouldn't have any lasting effects from it."

"Will I be able to fly again?"

"I don't see why not. We'll follow up with more tests to make sure it's healing well before you're cleared to resume your duties."

"What about his other injuries?" Bella asks.

"After assessing his spine, the most urgent issue was the dehydration. That was treated with IV fluids. The injury you sustained to your leg, though, was the most concerning. You suffered a displaced oblique fracture to your fibula, as well as a bimalleolar ankle fracture. If those had been treated immediately, it would have been a standard surgical repair and recovery. But since you walked on it for several days, the repair was more extensive and your recovery will be longer."

"But I'll be in physical therapy, right?" I ask. "That should get me back on my feet."

He nods. "Yes. I expect the physical therapy to last for several months. And as long as you stick to the plan, you should have a full recovery."

Bella speaks up then. "Why do I sense a 'but' coming?"

"Because there is one." The doctor turns his attention fully on me. "I'll also refer you to a doctor in Phoenix for outpatient PTSD therapy."

I shake my head. "I don't think I need that."

Bella squeezes my hand. "Edward," she says insistently. "It's a good idea."

The doctor tilts his head with a thoughtful expression on his face. "You may not feel the need for it immediately, but what you went through will undoubtedly have long-lasting effects on your mental health. It's better to arm yourself with tools to deal with it when those moments arise."

When I don't reply and instead turn to look out the window, Bella answers for me. "Thank you. I'm sure it'll help."

"But back to your original question about going home. I'd like to keep you for several more days. I want to make sure your incisions are healing and that your lab numbers even out. You were out there for several days, and it'll take just as long to make sure you're well enough to go home. And," he says as he stands, "you're going home a national hero. We want to make sure you can fulfill all the duties that come along with that."

When he excuses himself from the room, Bella walks around my bed to sit on the edge. She runs her fingertips through my beard. "Do you want to talk about all that?"

I grab her hand and kiss her fingers. "Sounds like I'll be going home soon."

"Edward …"

I sigh. "What?"

"That's not what I meant. We should talk about what the doctor suggested … about what happened earlier. When you woke up sweaty and shaking." She squeezes my hand. "Will you tell me about it?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Of course, you do."

Finally, I meet her worried eyes. "Don't want to think about it, let alone talk about it."

"Maybe it'll help."

With a deep breath, I settle into the pillows behind me. "I keep seeing you and the boys out there with me. Getting … hurt. And logically, I know I'm here and safe and that you and Jake and Seth are safe, but it doesn't change the fact that I keep seeing it. I know I should talk to someone, but it's hard to admit I might need help. I survived almost a week lost in the desert. I should be stronger than this."

"It's hard for most people to admit they need help, but it doesn't make them weak. In fact, I think the opposite. Strong people know when to ask for help. And like the doctor said, they can give you tools to help you work through it all."

My eyes drift back to the window. "I know."

"Will you tell me? What it was like for you?"

Unable to meet her eyes, I focus on a passing cloud. "It was … difficult." Memories of those terrifying moments rush to the surface, and I feel my body react immediately. My palms go clammy, and my mouth goes dry. My vision clouds so suddenly that I have to close my eyes. "When I pulled that eject lever, I was scared out of my mind. I had no idea where I was going to land. I didn't know if I'd even make it to the damn ground. And then when I did and I hit as hard as I did, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to walk far enough to find any cover."

The feel of her hand over my racing heart offers me a small amount of comfort. My throat tightens as the memories continue to assault my mind, but her touch encourages me to continue.

"I had to hide that first night. A truck on the road must've spotted me coming down, because they came to look for me. I don't know who they were or what they would have done if they'd found me. I walked and hid for days, just trying to buy myself some time until I could be rescued. I could hear the flyovers—I even saw them a few times—but I didn't know if they'd get to me in time." My eyes flutter open and meet hers. "I had a picture of you and the boys in my pocket, and every time I needed a boost, I'd pull it out and look at your smiling faces. The only thing that kept me going was thinking of getting home to you."

She smiles through her tears. "Then let's focus on getting you home."

"I like the sound of that."


After an initial debrief and more tests to make sure I'm healthy enough to travel, I'm released a week and a half later. But I'm still not on my way home. For the entire trip back to the States, I'm a nervous wreck. I've been briefed on what the coming days would hold, and every time I think about it, fresh panic swells inside me.

Because I need to officially be debriefed, Bella and I are flying into Andrews Air Force Base in Maryland. Meeting with the higher-ups at the Pentagon is the last thing I want to do, but it's necessary. So, instead of going straight home to convalesce in relative peace and quiet, I'll be participating in a full-on press event, including reading a prepared speech I feel ill-equipped to deliver under the circumstances. News outlets—national and local—will be there to capture the homecoming of a "national hero."

I've lost count of how many times people have called me that since I was recovered. In my mind, I did what I was trained to do. I followed procedure and stayed alive. The real heroes are the men and women who flew the mission and risked their safety to rescue me. They are the heroes, and no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise.

"Are you ready for all this?" Bella asks as we start our descent.

"Not remotely."

"Jacob and Seth are excited to see you."

"I'm sure they're not half as excited as I am to see them." I kiss her temple. "I'm thankful Garrett agreed to let them come out with our parents."

"He's been … not an asshole, surprisingly."

"Good. You didn't need any added stress."

She lays her head on my shoulder. "Just think, it won't be much longer and we'll be home. Together."

"I can't wait."

She sighs. "We just have to get through this part first."

I bring her hand to my lips. "With you by my side, I think I'll be okay."

Thirty minutes later, I hobble from the plane on my new crutches to the sound of the Air Force Band and thunderous applause. When I make it to the bottom of the stairs, I don't hear the cheers of the crowd and the music fades away. All I see are the smiling faces of my stepsons, my parents, and my in-laws.

"Edward!" the boys scream in unison as they rush toward me.

As best I can while still holding onto my crutches, I wrap my arms around both of them. "God, it's good to see you guys." I squeeze my eyes closed, trying desperately not to let my emotions get away from me since we're on full display.

"How bad are you hurt?"

"Mom said you had surgery. Do you have a cast? What—"

They talk over each other, and I can't help but laugh. I pull away just enough to look at them. "We'll have all the time in the world to talk about all that. I'm just … I'm so happy to see you guys."

I pull them in for another hug, but when I look past them, I spot my mother practically vibrating with emotion.

"Boys," Bella says, seeing the same thing I am, "let's give Edward a minute with his mom, okay?"

The moment they step back, my mother moves into their place, wrapping me in her arms. "Oh, my boy. I'm so happy to have you back."

I breathe in her familiar floral perfume and smile. "It's good to be back."

She holds onto me so long Dad gives up waiting and places a hand on my shoulder. "Welcome home, son."

I open up my other arm and bring him in for a quick hug. "Thanks, Dad."

Charlie and Renee's hugs and greetings are not as demonstrative but no less meaningful, especially when Renee kisses my cheek.

"You gave us quite a scare." Fighting a smile, she narrows her eyes at me. "Don't do that again."

Amused but properly chastised, I offer her a small grin and a nod. "Yes, ma'am."

Once I've had a chance to greet everyone in my family, I turn toward the smiling faces of General Schwartz, the Air Force Chief of Staff, and Defense Secretary Gates. The mood instantly shifts when I offer a salute to each of them. All I really want to do is hide away with my family and catch up on the time I've missed with all of them. But as the world looks on and the moment is captured for all to see, I remember that first and foremost, I still have a duty to fulfill.

An attendant ushers us toward a podium set up on the flight line. As I slowly make my way over to it, I notice just how large the crowd is that's gathered. Most of them hold "Welcome Home" signs or wave small American flags. As honored as I am that people care that I'm back on U.S. soil, it's the small crowd of people following me who truly matter to me.

Bella and I sit in chairs that have been set up for us, and while General Schwartz says a few words before introducing me, I hold Bella's hand in a death grip. When I'm called to speak, I squeeze my wife's hand and carefully stand, steadying myself on my crutches and slowly making my way to the podium.

I take a moment to look around, and standing between my parents and Bella's are Jacob and Seth. The admiration I see on their faces and the happiness I see in their eyes push me to give this speech so I can have them in my arms again.

I nod once in the General's direction. "Thank you, General Schwartz." With a deep breath, I turn my focus back to the slip of paper before me and look out over the gathered crowd.

"The first thing I want to do is thank God. My faith in Him helped me keep my focus. He answered my prayers and saw to my safe return. I have no doubt He played a major role in my recovery. To the doctors and nurses who treated me—who quite literally put me back together—it's because of you that I'm able to stand here today. You have my unending gratitude."

Pausing, I take a breath as a fresh wave of emotion rolls over me. But as hard as I try, I can't keep my voice from becoming thick. "The men I flew with that night, the men and women on the ground who kept the lines of communication open when I didn't know if I'd make it back to base or not, every last one of them played a role in my safe return as well. It was their levelheaded response that helped me stay calm in the face of the unthinkable. The United States Air Force invests in the men and women who serve, and I'm no exception. It's the training I received that helped me keep a clear head until help arrived to bring me home. I will never be able to fully express my gratitude for the men and women who risked their lives to rescue me. They are the true heroes. They put their lives on the line to come back for me, and I will forever be thankful for their bravery. I'm so proud to be part of the very best there is; the United States Air Force. And to my family … thank you." I look over my shoulder at all of them. "To my wife and stepsons, my parents. Your love and support, even from across an ocean, kept me going. Just knowing you were out there, confident that I would come home, helped me through the darkest days. You're the reason I'm here today." I blink away the wetness in my eyes and turn back to the crowd. "Thank you. And God bless America."


After the debriefing, all the interviews, and even meeting President George W. Bush, I'm finally on a flight home. My parents and Bella's left days ago with Jacob and Seth, and I'm beyond anxious to be back with them. According to Major Hanson, the representative assigned to help me navigate the public speaking events and press interviews I need to book, I'm still not completely done. But the things required of me are out of the way. The rest can be scheduled after I get home.

Bella interrupts my musings and squeezes my hand. "You okay? Is your back hurting? Do you want another pain pill?"

I place a soft kiss on her lips. "I'm fine. Just ready to be home."

Home.

I can't fucking wait.


A/N: Edward still has a long road to travel, but they're together and finally headed home! I can't wait to hear what you think of this chapter.

I want to send a special shoutout to Jenejes for checking the medical details in this chapter for me to make sure I was on target with Edward's injuries and recovery and all that. Her input and nursing knowledge was invaluable. Huge smooches, my friend. Xo

I'm taking off tomorrow for a motorcycle camping trip and won't return until Sunday night. There's a chance the next chapter will be late since I won't have time to work on edits and all that, but I'll update as soon as it's ready. Also, could I trouble you to send some good and dry vibes into the universe for our trip. The forecast for the whole five days we'll be on the road is looking quite … moist.

We have two more regular chapters and an epilogue to go, so we're nearing the end, my friends! I'll be sad to see it end, but considering there was a point in time that I doubted this story would ever be completed, it feels good to see the end in sight.

Remember, the best way to stay up to date with what I'm up to, join in the discussion, and to see exclusive teaser pics, check out my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I'd love if you all could join us. And for those who are having a hard time finding the group, I'm not sure what the issue could be. It should come up in a Facebook search, especially if you click on groups under the search function. If not, shoot me a PM and I'll see if I can work out what the issue is. FFN doesn't like outside links, but you could also try using this after removing the spaces. https: . com/groups/ 1739086053085361/?ref= share _group _link

I will "see" you soon!

Be kind.
Stay safe.
Stay well.

Lots of love
~Sunshine