Boilerplate: The Twilight universe belongs to Stephenie Meyer – I'm just playing in it. I don't own anything except my laptop computer.

The story starts off as Edward and Bella make their way back from Italy towards the end of "New Moon" and goes AU from there.

This is the first piece of fanfic I've written since 1996, so please be kind. I hope you enjoy it!

***

"Miss? You like something to drink?"

The stewardess – Gisella, according to her nametag - looked at me expectantly and tucked a loose curl back behind her ear.

"Um… what do you have?" I asked, trying to buy a few seconds of decision time. I knew I should drink something just to stay hydrated on the plane but I wasn't actively thirsty. The flight from Rome to New York, where our Air Italia plane had a layover, seemed to take at least double the 8 hours it was supposed to and while it wasn't quite as far from New York to Seattle, I knew that I'd soon get a headache if I didn't drink something.

As Gisella listed down the juices, coffee, tea, water, my mind thought about and rejected each possibility. But somewhere in my subconscious a decision was made and bubbled up to my lips. "I'll have a Coke," I spat out. And at that moment, there was nothing my body craved more than the syrupy, caramel-colored soda. I could almost taste the carbonation on the back of my tongue.

The stewardess smiled at me and began rifling through the open cans on the top of the drinks cart looking for a Coke. I may be uncoordinated and emotional but at least I knew what I liked – and who I liked. I smiled back, thinking of the marble Adonis seated beside me.

"She'll have water." The stewardess froze. The melodious voice had stopped her before she could pour the soda into the plastic cup she was holding. I felt an ice-cold pressure on my upper arm and tensed involuntarily.

"Miss?" She looked at me questioningly and I looked over at Edward. His face was showed concern and the pressure on my arm lessened. Was this a test? Did he know something about the soda that I didn't? Did he read the stewardess's mind? Was she trying to poison me?

"Edward, what--"

"You won't be able to sleep." I must have looked confused because he continued, "If you drink that, won't get your rest and we still have the drive back to Forks to get through." And then he smirked, charmingly. "Bella, I know you wouldn't want to be cranky when you got home. You dad has been through enough as it is."

Charlie. My eyes prickled a little. I was tired. I turned back to the stewardess, who seemed ready to move on without giving me anything.

"I'll have--," I paused, "--the Coke." She quickly poured it out and placed it on my tray with a little packet of snacks before I could change my mind.

"Sir? You like something to drink? Water?"

"No." His tone would have frozen the offered beverage.

"Snacks?"

"No."

The stewardess moved on to the next row and Edward with his free hand set about opening my snack, flicking open the packet of pretzels with an otherworldly grace, and wiped down the open can of Coke with the napkin, so that my hand wouldn't get too sticky.

I sensed that he was concerned and I felt guilty for acting like a petulant teenager. I put my warm hand over his ice-cold one. It warmed slightly.

"Edward, it will be okay. Really. Soda doesn't have the same effect on me that it did before—" I choked on the sentence, the pain of Edward's absence was still too raw, even with him sitting beside me. I tried again. "I've spent lots of afternoons drinking soda and hanging out with—" Jake. "—my friends."

I quickly picked up the plastic cup and sipped. The warm soda soothed my parched throat but did nothing to prevent my eyes from filling with tears. I blinked them back and leaned over towards Edward until my head was resting on his shoulder. I could feel the rock-like strength beneath the thin material of impeccably tasteful sandy-colored Italian linen.

Edward gently pressed his marble lips into my hair and I heard him inhale, smelling deeply.

Slowly sipping my soda, I tried to calm my thoughts. Breathe in. Breathe out. From the moment I heard that Edward was going to try and kill himself, my entire body had been at full alert. Adrenaline had flooded my system and the world around me shrank until all I could think of was Edward. With him safe beside me, my tunnel vision was receding and I didn't like what I saw.

I was really beginning to dread the fall out of my frantic flight to Italy.

Alice had called Charlie from New York during out layover to let him know what time my plane was getting in. She was flying to California to meet up with Jasper and the rest of the family. They were going to drive back to Forks from there. My stomach tightened thinking of Charlie. What must he be going through? One of his best and oldest friends dies and his daughter runs off to Italy instead of staying to comfort him? And Jake. His face when I left him… he had been close to Harry, too. I abandoned both of them when they needed me for a man that, at the time, might not have even cared about me.

I put my empty cup down on the tray and pulled my arm around my stomach. It gurgled ominously. I turned my head so that my forehead was resting on Edward's shoulder and willed my stomach to settle. I pushed down the guilty thoughts as far as I could and concentrated on Edward's scent. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in Edward's special, floral aroma. Breathe out, the taste of warm soda, afternoons in Jake's garage, the rain pinging on the roof. I covered my mouth with my hand and tried to stand up but was pinned down. I needed to get to the bathroom – now. There was no way I was going to vomit on Edward Cullen.

"Bella? Are you okay? Are you air sick?" Edward reached over and deftly undid the seatbelt that was keeping me attached to my seat.

I shook my head yes, grateful, once again, that Edward could not read my thoughts, and concentrated on getting to the bathroom without tripping over the feet of the lanky businessman in seat 6C. I slid the lock on the door shut and opened the toilet lid and kneeled down. It smelt disgusting and was all the encouragement my mutinous stomach needed to bring everything back up. I couldn't even remember the last time I had eaten anything. Did I eat the breakfast Edward ordered for me at the hotel?

The toilet gave a satisfying whoosh as it flushed away everything I had purged. Less satisfying was my reflection in the mirror. I had always been pale, but I looked sallow. Unhealthy. My hair was a disaster and my lips chapped. There were giant circles under my eyes and, yes, that was a pimple developing on my chin. I rinsed my mouth out with water and sighed. When I was a vampire I wouldn't have to worry about pimples. Or getting my period. Or throwing up. I ran my fingers through my hair and straightened my ponytail. This was as good as it was going to get today. I couldn't believe Edward loved me.

Edward was waiting for me when I slid open the door to the bathroom and he pulled me into a hug.

I leaned into him. It felt like the hole in my chest had been spackled over but I still wasn't satisfied. Isn't Edward what I needed to be complete? Why did I still feel so empty? Full and empty at the same time – Bella Swan, freak of nature.

"Bella, I got some water and a antacid from the stewardess. Can you walk?"

I nodded yes into his chest.

Edward guided me back to our seats and I let him feed me the antacid and hold the cup of water to my mouth so I could sip it.

"Water won't upset your stomach." Edward looked pained. He put down the cup and began tucking blankets around me. "Why didn't you believe me, Bella? Is it because you don't think I understand human appetites? I've been observing humans eat and drink for longer than you've been alive. I've read Carlisle's medical books…" He drifted off and his amber eyes sparkled in the bright light of the reading lamp as he tried to read my reaction.

"Edward, I'm sorry."

He chortled, relieved, I think. "Well, just don't let it happen again."

I closed my eyes and, drained of everything, sank into a blissful numbness.

***

The drive home was miserable. We picked Carlisle's car up where Alice had left it in short term parking at the Seattle airport and were on the road by 11:30pm. Edward drove like a bat out of hell and I forgot how much I hated feeling so out-of-control in the passenger's seat. Intellectually, I knew I was perfectly safe – safer than when I was riding my motorcycle – but it didn't stop the panicked feeling fluttering in my still upset stomach. Edward's sweet scent mixed with my own unwashed stench and the combination made my head pound. I needed air.

I pressed the button to roll down the window and let the cool night air fill my lungs with the damp smell of pine. I imagined the little tree molecules entering my lungs, filtering into my blood stream, and circulating around to each of my fingers and toes and up around through my brain, brushing the impurities out. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, wind whipping my hair.

One minute, two minutes, three minutes – "Bella! That's enough! You're going to make yourself sick!" The glass began to move up and I could feel the stale air inside the car moving back to choke me. I pressed the button to push the window back down but Edward had engaged the child-lock button.

He looked at me sternly. "I'm not returning you to Charlie with a cold – or worse."

"But—" I squeaked out.

"But nothing. You'll catch a chill hanging your head out of the window like a dog. Now, I'm going to turn up the heat and I want you to finish drinking that bottle of water I bought you back at the gas station."

Seeing that I wasn't going to respond, he turned on the radio and speedily found the classical music station.

"Wagner," he snorted derisively, as the soprano trilled out in German. "He's so—" Edward searched for the appropriate word to describe his loathing for the composer, "--Messy."

Although I couldn't care less about Wagner, I jumped on the conversational opportunity. "Messy?" I asked, willing Edward to take the bait.

He smiled over at me, glad to see that I was done arguing with his wishes and launched into a well thought out argument on why Wagner represented everything wrong with popular culture and how Richard Strauss and his 'tone poems' deserved to be more well-known. When the Wagner aria finished, Edward told me about the next selection playing on the station. I didn't have much to contribute but Edward kept up both sides of the conversation, seeing that his voice was keeping me pacified. And despite my initial lack of interest in the topic, Edward made it sound interesting.

The intellectual stimulation kept guilty thoughts at bay for a time but my lungs still felt stuffed with cotton and my legs cramped. I had to pee.

***

I started unbuckling my seatbelt before Edward even shut off the engine. The light was on in the living room and I could see the soft bluish glow of the TV through the window. I supposed it was too much to hope that Charlie would be asleep.

Edward turned off the headlights and reached over and grabbed my hands. It was pitch black.

"You don't have to do this, Bella." His eyes glinted as the light from another car appeared further down the road. His voice was calm but controlled, like Charlie trying to herd drunken Raven Spirit home to the Rez after a bender at Mill Creek, as if the slightest pressure would shatter me. "We can go back to my house and come over in the morning, after you've slept."

I almost agreed. Almost. I opened my mouth but before I could say anything, I saw the front door of the house open and the porch light flick on. Charlie appeared, framed by light. He looked disheveled and sad. Scared as I was of his reaction, I couldn't leave him alone again tonight. I shook myself free of Edward's hand and opened the car door.

"Bella?" Charlie called out in a shaky voice.

"It's me, Dad!" I answered back. I ran down the driveway to meet him and stopped just short of flinging myself into his arms. I, Bella Swan had never been so happy to be… home.

Charlie just looked at me. His eyes were bloodshot and his face unshaven. He smelled slightly of alcohol.

"Dad?" I hesitated. Was I even welcome back? "I'm sorry I left you so suddenly. I didn't mean to worry you, it's just—it was an emergency and I--"

Charlie closed the gap between us and pulled me into a big hug. I immediately burst into tears. "Don't you ever worry me like that again. And I mean never. You're not stupid, Bella, I know you wouldn't run off like that unless you thought it was important but—the funeral and then I didn't know where you were and Jake has been running around here like crazy trying to take care of me and his old man. He borrowed your truck while your were gone--" Charlie stepped back, embarrassed to have been caught in such a blatant display of emotion.

I wiped my nose with the sleeve of my brown hoodie. I was going to have to wash it anyways.

"That boy is not allowed around here, Bella." Charlie had become Chief Swan.

"But, Dad—he didn't have anything to do with me leaving and—"

"Bella."

I sniffled. "Can I at least say good-bye? Or is that part of my punishment?"

"You're not going to leave with him are you?"

"No! Just—let me get bag and say good-bye."

I slowly walked back to the car and Edward. He had already put my suitcase on the ground and was watching me.

I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes. "Edward, Charlie says—"

"I heard him. He's thinking about punching me in the face right now."

I gasped, horrified at my father's brutal imagination.

Edward chortled, amused at my reaction. "Bella. Your father will come around. He's a reasonable man. Just play along for now and you'll see. Show him how responsible you are. It wouldn't be right to go against his wishes. If I had ever had a daughter, I know I would only entrust her to a man who would respect my wishes—at least until they got married."

I tried to smile. Of course, Edward understood. He was so mature and responsible. I longed to be able to act in such an adult manner. I was going to have to try my hardest to live up to his expectations. If Edward wanted me to play the dutiful daughter – if that would impress him – then that is what I was going to do.

"It's going to be okay, Bella," he said soothingly, ruffling my already messy hair. "You go inside now and I'll meet you in your bedroom in a couple of hours. Just enough time for Charlie to fall asleep."

Guilt and desire fought within me. I was so tired, what I said next came out in a big rush. "Edward—I don't think that's a good idea. I don't want to get on Charlie's bad side already. I know he wouldn't find out but I'd feel guilty. Come meet me tomorrow after he goes to work—Charlie just said you weren't allowed in the house. He didn't say anything about you meeting me on the porch."

I took a deep breath, the pine-scented air filling my lungs. "Edward, I love you. I'm tired. I'll see you tomorrow."

Edward didn't say anything as he watched me walk back towards the house. I peeked back at his face – it was full of concern but, thankfully, no anger.

Charlie seemed to relax a little as I struggled up the driveway with my suitcase. Edward was still watching as I entered my house and Charlie closed the door behind me.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"You're grounded. Forever."

"Forever is a long time. Can we debate the terms tomorrow morning? For right now, I can I just be grounded in my bed."

"Alright, Bells."

I started up the stairs.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad I'm home. And—I'm sorry."

"I know, sweetheart. I'm glad, too."

As I entered my room it felt as if a giant weight lifted off of my shoulders. I stripped off my dirty clothes, threw on the first T-shirt I could find, and passed out on my bed. For once, not dreading the nightmares.

***

Buffy! What are you doing here? Edward is standing right over there because it's first period – besides, I thought you were dating Mike! Buffy looked at me like I was crazy. 'Mike Newton? As if! He wishes!' She leaned in conspiratorially, 'Actually, I was thinking of asking out Jacob Black – do you know him?' For some reason, I really didn't like that idea at all but I was walking through the dense woods outside of La Push.

It was gray and misty. The giant Sitka Spruce trees towered above me, their leaves forming a canopy high up. My dream-self knew where I was walking and my feet were taking me there. Left. Right. I was walking towards a giant fallen log. The light dimmed as if a cloud was passing overhead. There was just enough room for me to walk inside it if I bent my head a little and, unafraid of the dark, I walked on.

A small doe came walking towards me.

'Do I know you?' I asked.

'I don't think so,' said the doe. 'My name is—' and the doe gave a high-pitched yelp I couldn't understand '— and I'm here to warn you. Something bad is in the forest.'

A cold breeze blew past us and the doe startled.

'What do you mean something bad?' I asked.

'The watcher is here. I have to go. He doesn't know.'

'But who is he?

'Bella, the watcher wants to help but he makes things worse.'

It was 9 a.m. and the sun was pouring through my open window.