Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight

When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me. – Led Zeppelin –- Thank You

BPOV

"Swanny," Anna Jones chirps as she prances into class. She has her hair strewn into pigtails, blue streamers trailing as her Seattle Wildcats Volleyball jacket stays zipped. "I love your outfit." I glance down at my outfit, the absurdity my future sister-in-law, Alice, forces upon me on a daily basis. Black flats, dark jeans, white blouse, grey, unbuttoned vest. If you're getting inducted into my family, you're wearing what I say, she snipped to me before the first day of school. I sip my ceramic coffee mug, the one that holds double the volume of coffee, the one that keeps my sanity in full, working order.

"Thanks, Anna." I smile, swinging my left leg. I sit atop a table, folding my right underneath me. The whiteboard looms behind my back as I so exhaustedly witness my class trickle into the room. The exhaustion has been enveloping lately, it hindering my ability to wake up at all.

"I can't believe you." Allison Manning hisses as she shoulders past Kurt Lawrence. She barrels toward the sea of tables in the back of the room, her petal pink flats clacking against the tile. Her blonde hair bobs as she slumps her black backpack onto the floor, and the table groans slightly from the force. She yanks her seat out, plopping down and shooting daggers at her boyfriend, Chris Evans.

"What?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Saturday." She crosses her arms and growls. He blinks his pale blue eyes and I check the wall clock: 10:45 AM. Jesus. On a Monday. Christ. More coffee, please.

"What about it?" He scratches the back of his neck lazily as his table partner, Mac Tessler, screeches the chair from underneath the table.

"Sup, Evans." He claps his comrade's back as he pulls out a chewed, Number 2 pencil.

"Mac Attack." Chris nods while grinning.

"Shut up, Mac." Allison glares and her target raises his hands up.

"Stop being such a bitch, Allie." Chris snaps and I lower my coffee.

"Stop." I roll my eyes and the three of them glance my way. They mutter apologies under their breaths before the two boys continue their peeved glares. I yawn exhaustedly, my eyes dragging across the room as my mind trudges through its thoughts.

"I have so much to tell you." Susan McDonald titters and takes a seat in the front of the room. Lauren Casey sits across from her, tucking her hair behind her ears, awaiting the weekend gossip.

"Yo, we wrecked them on Friday." Michael Kasanoff booms on the eastern side of the room. Him and Phil Walker slap hands at a high velocity, causing a loud clap.

And finally, the bell rings. I take one last gulp from my mug before setting it down. There are still murmurs amongst the room and I neglect to cease them. I press my temples before rubbing them, a sensation which hardly soothes my fatigue. At a minute's passing, someone issues a hissing shush and all eyes are on me.

"So," I lean back nonchalantly. "What's up?" Hands shoot up into the air and I point at Anna Jones.

"We're going into States." She beams and bounces in her chair. I blink.

"Oh..." Sports... Sports... State Championships? "Uh, great! Everyone go support the volleyball team." I fumble and rock forward. Several more hands shoot up and I pick Michael Kasanoff this time.

"I ran from the cops this weekend, Swanny." He grins and I pick up my mug.

"And?" I raise an eyebrow while sipping my sweet nectar.

"Scotch free." He slaps the tabletop while grinning.

"Good. That's what I like to hear," I roll my eyes and smile slightly. "Okay, a few more, then we'll attempt to get something done today, kiddies." Eloise Fontaine proceeds to tell us about her successful art gallery showcase and Jason Sheffield reels off a humorous story involving himself and a box of cereal. After ten minutes worth of banter, I pick up a red, dry-erase marker and uncap it nonchalantly.

"Wait! Swanny, how's Edward?" Kimberly Wolff giggles incessantly in the back corner of the room.

"Edward," I muse. "Told me he's going to leave me for Stephen Colbert." There's a rouse of low laughter around the room as I distractedly recap the marker. In the process, I stare at the ring on my left hand; it glints partially under the crappy, public school lighting system.

"And what'd you say?" Mac Tessler grins.

"I said not if I left him for Colbert, first." I shrug and another wave of chuckles spreads across the room.

"So when can we meet him?" Kimberly leans forward in her seat and blinks her hazel eyes. I study the underside of my flat before glancing up at her. Unless coming into my office for a conference session, the vast majority of my students have never seen the elusive and mysterious fiancé of Ms. Bella Swan. A picture of us is taped on the wall above my desk, Edward being partially tipsy. He half smiles, those green eyes half closed, as he wraps an arm around my shoulders. Taken last June, his birthday, he wears no cast. Although not blaringly apparent, if you press your nose to the photo, you can see the ghastly scar running from shoulder to mid-forearm. Next to this photo is an array of others: Alice and Jasper, dancing at one of her shows. Her eyes are closed with a grin plastered on as she teeters around in heels and an a la mode number. Jasper rolls his eyes while smiling, his hands on the hips of his tuxedo. Annabel, nearly two years old, sitting on her parents' bed, her blue eyes crossed. She grips the blanket, so determined with staring into herself. Rose and Emmett sit next to one another on a park bench, gazing at an unknown object, obliviously in sync. There's one of Charlie and I, all smiles, all familial embrace. Sam, licking the heel of Edward's loafer which so gloriously makes it miniscule debut. And although absurd, Elizabeth. A frequent visitor, she's been residing in a foster home while the court date has been pending. In this photo, she sits, barefooted and cross-legged on the wooden floor. Her light brown hair grew back, piled atop her head as she grins and holds a circular birthday cake in her lap. Happy Birthday, Edward, it reads as her striking eyes sparkle. Sam sniffs her side, the charming German Sheppard unknowingly impeding on the moment. My collection of tacked photos splays memories and frozen time, yet to my students, they are a mystery.

"That reminds me," I clear my throat. "I have to leave fifteen minutes early, today." I run a hand through my hair and continue swinging my right leg. Meghan Parkinson's hand shoots up.

"Do we have homework?" She chippers.

"Not if you don't drive me insane today," I smile and there's a rouse of high fives and inaudible cheers. "Oh…" I clear my throat and wait for silence. The moment the chatter dies down, I scratch my neck. "And Edward is kidnapping me." Conversations flare up again as the tittering of my students recommence.

"That's so exciting." Susan McDonald bounces in her seat and I hop off of the table. My flats press against the skin of my feet, causing me to wince. I kick them off, sliding them under the table before I pop the cap off of the marker.

"It is. That's all for now, we've wasted too much time. So let's get cracking." I sigh exhaustedly and press the tip of the marker to the whiteboard.

……..

"And here," I draw an arrow to a blob supposedly representing Japan. "We want to focus on Japan. We've got beef with them. But of course, we have to upkeep an alliance, so we go to Germany," I scrawl another arrow to an amorphous shape apparently being said nation. "Now when all this carnage ended," I hastily circle Europe. "The USSR gets a chunk of this. And this, and this. Say goodbye, to capitalism, Eastern Europe," I cross out the eastern portion of the continent. "So back over to Japan, Truman issues the bomb drop after chipper old Area-51 gives him a call. I'm sure FDR was rolling over in his grave, but hey, T-Man is the one in your textbooks. Regardless, it's dropped – kaput. We rebuilt Japan. Yep, that was us. We wrote their freaking Constitution… The USSR was –" There's a knock at the door and my marker bleeds into a motionless dot. I glance up from my gloriously sloppy depiction of history, the textbook in my cross-legged lap. Damn, please stay at bay, Mr. Principal. No shoes, sitting upon a desk? Nice, Bella. Nice.

"Come in." I call out and then duck back into the book. The door handle turns and all heads are turned toward the visitor. I blink once and furrow my brow, attempting to look authoritative.

"Oh… Hello." An angel's voice greets and my head snaps up. Edward stands in the doorway, wearing his normal attire: khakis, a button-up and a light coat. His bronze hair is beautiful and untamed as always, igniting a desire at eleven fifteen in the morning. His eyes glint emerald as he stuffs his hands into his coat and shyly peers at my class. There is silence as some of the female portion gape. Without shame.

"Class," I turn my head to them. "This is Edward." He wears a nametag, it reading, Hello my name is Edward Cullen, the latter bit scrawled in his perfect script. I can't help but smile at the elementary aura.

"Hello." He greets fluidly and turns a fraction to face the sea of students. There are low murmurs of greetings from my students, particularly from the girls. He smiles, slightly, crookedly, as he meets my gaze.

"I like the nametag." I smirk as I cap the marker. I throw it next to others before fishing for my flats with my toes.

"I like the drawings." He returns the smirk and nods at the whiteboard. I blush while hopping off the table, stumbling a bit.

"Alright, guys. Mr. Caius will be subbing for me. In the meantime, fill out this sheet, and if he decides you were too rowdy, you're handing it in." I place my hands on my hips and the class mutters.

"He's such an asshole." Christian Baker hisses under his breath. I trudge to my proper desk and delve my hands into my messenger bag. After fishing around, I pull out a stack of papers. I press them to my chest, making my way around the desk when the door opens once more. The notoriously callous substitute breezes in, glancing at Edward and then reaching me.

"I told them to do this sheet. If they're well behaved they can well… Just recycle it." I smile as he stops in front of me. He squints his beady eyes, and behind his back, Phil Walker commits imaginary suicide with an invisible finger gun. I shoot him a pointed look.

"Hi, Bella." Mr. Caius responds coolly and outstretches his palm.

"Hi," I strain a smile and take a half step backward. "I think I'll have Mr. Baker and Mr. Walker pass these out, if that's all right," I glance at the two, apathetic boys. "Christian? Phil?" They glance at each other from across the room, and then proceed to rise reluctantly. Their countenances ease as they realize they're in no immediate trouble after I plop a pile each into their awaiting hands.

"Any questions?" I run a hand through my hair and glance at Edward. He beams at me. There's silence and I walk back toward my desk to sling my bag over my shoulder. "Great. Have fun." I smile and my students emit a low groan.

Outside the classroom, Edward gently cups my face and plants a lingering kiss. I pull away after a moment, sputtering with giggles. "Not in school." I reprimand in a teasing tone. He furrows his brow.

"Nine years later and school authority still restricts us." His perfect lips frown and I roll my eyes teasingly. We glance back into the door's small window, and the front row slash the pencil sharpening students gape. I give a small wave before blushing.

"Can we go now?" I beg, my cheeks a light pink.

"You look exhausted." He frowns and studies my face. I pout.

"Because I am… Can we leave?" I fold my arms stubbornly.

"Hold on," He grins, fully aware of his actions. I narrow my eyes as he kisses the tip of my nose, a gesture which successfully upgrades my shade of pink to a shade of crimson. "Now we can go." He splays that crooked smile and holds his palm out.

"I hate you so much." I sigh and clasp his hand.

……..

He drives with one hand on the wheel and the other on my knee: a feat he is still, to this day, ecstatic about. The past six months, Edward has gone mad with the notion of being able to use both hands. Driving, cooking, eating, embracing, hell, even in bed, Edward goes madcap for it. He's also ecstatic about the new lustrous, silver Volvo C70. Sam goes wild for the convertible function. If men could give birth, this car would be his child. Not ours, but his. The radio plays Clair de Lune, a neutral song, in both our books. No bickering ensues over musical tastes as the tune we've managed to come to peace over wafts through the small atmosphere. I glance over at my fiancé, and as I study his profile, I sigh contentedly.

"Yes, m'lady?" He keeps his eyes on the road, his hand on my knee and the other on my heart.

"Nothing," I avert my gaze to his ludicrous visitor's nametag. "Take this silly thing off." I giggle and reach over to peel the tag off of his coat. When I retract, I stare at his handwriting. Hello my name is Edward Cullen. Hello, my name is Bella Swan. I glance at my ring and ponder for a moment.

Hello, my name is Bella Cullen… Bella Cullen.

Isabella Marie Cullen.

I crumble the tag into my hand.

"How was school?" He teases.

"Tolerable," I sigh. "And work?"

"I'm not sure. I don't really pay attention to my clients anymore." Edward grins crookedly and I scoff.

"What a terrible characteristic for a lawyer." I muse and glance at the passing surroundings.

"On the contrary," He makes a left hand turn and accelerates the Volvo. "I like to think I'm a decent lawyer."

"And the verdict is…" A jury member clears his throat. "Not guilty." Murmurs envelop the room as I scratch the back of my head. Edward's client bursts into tears, rising from their table and hooting with happiness.

"And the verdict is, according to the jury…" The judge trails. "Guilty." A female jury member chippers and the defendant stares in disbelief. Edward smiles slightly and shrugs as his client screams, "You filthy, bastard. That's what you get, I told you I'd sue you one day."

"And the verdict is…" Edward mutters under his breath. "Not guilty." A jury member clarifies for him before the courtroom. There is a shuffling of papers as Edward's client grins heartily and seals the deal for yet another paycheck.

"I guess you're all right." I shrug.

"Well let's hope you and I are better than all right during this last trial." He smiles crookedly and slides into a parking space. After placing the car in park and cutting the ignition, the three of us stand in the lot. We walk, hand-in-hand, toward the familiar building. Once inside the courthouse, Edward, Sam and I idly wait outside the Judge's quarters. The floors are tiled, the walls paneled with mahogany as I drink in the surroundings so deeply imbedded into my mind. We rap the door once and wait, preoccupying ourselves with our silent thoughts. And after moments, the door swings open. Judge Masen glances from Edward to me in his khaki shorts and black Adidas sandals before widening his arms.

"Isabella!" He beams and embraces me. I pat his back and smile lightly.

"Hello, Judge." He lets me go and I retract a step.

"Good grief, girl. Don't you look sleepy?" He beams and I twitch my mouth.

"I could go for a nap." I joke.

"Hello, Edward," He turns to him and the two men shake hands. "You're looking better these days." Edward grins and executes a chuckle.

"Thank you." He ruffles those untamed locks. Judge Masen glances at my engagement ring initially, and then back at Edward.

"So when are you kids getting married?" He turns around and beckons for us to follow suit. We do, venturing into his quarters and exchanging apprehensive glances.

"Soon." I shrug as Edward closes the door behind us.

"Entail soon." The Judge leans against his desk and folds his arms.

"Two months. We've yet to send invitations but you're on the list." Edward gazes at me and my heartbeat quickens at the notion. However, my brain prepares for the storm of Alice Cullen as the wedding date so ominously approaches.

"Congratulations. I'll be sure to attend," The Judge claps his hands once and pops up from the table. "So you two," He begins to face. "It is to my knowledge that you've filed a suit nearly a year ago?" We nod in unison. "Against the Black family." He issues.

"Correct." Edward crosses his arms.

"Now, this city is just as scummy as any other, so we've been trying to squeeze in a date in this ludicrously busy courthouse," The Judge pauses. "You have a month to prepare."

"A month?" I raise my eyebrows. He nods.

"Well, that's excellent." Edward responds nonchalantly.

"And what is the girl's current situation?" The Judge refolds his arms.

"She's been in a foster home." I bite my lip.

"And what of the parents?" He raises his brows, taken aback. Edward and I exchange glances.

"We haven't been able to reach them." I say softly.

"What does that mean?" He demands and I sigh.

"We've received no word from the Blacks regarding both visitations and telephone calls."

There is a round of silence before he clears his throat. "So why press charges?"

"Morality. Ethicality. Adoption rights." Edward impedes monotonously. The two men of law gaze at one another, a silent argument heating.

"I see." Judge Masen mutters quietly. I inch toward Edward, craning my head up to catch wind of his expression. His brow is furrowed and the silence continues before it is broken by a single whine. The German Sheppard issues a slight whimper, ignored by both men, yet I snap to it. I study the dog who now patters in small circles, his tail tucked between his hind legs. A feeling of miniscule dread settles into the pit of my belly and I cross my toes.

"Could you tell us the exact date, Sir?" I blink.

"Oh, yes, erm… December 21st, I believe," He shuffles a set of files on his mahogany desk. A clock on the eastern wall ticks as I tap my foot in anticipation. "Yes, December 21st." His head pops up to meet my gaze. Sam's stops his circling to glance up at his owner, whose countenance is a drained, pallid shade. I alarmingly grasp his hand. Sam begins to whine as Edward wipes his brow with the back of his right hand. I squeeze his left, gazing at him with concern.

"Are you okay?" I whisper. He turns to me, his eyes large, pupils dilated. He nods and strains a smile, gripping my fingers. Sam's whines increase as he paws Edward's calf, and I bite my lip. Oh no, oh no. "Edward," I tug his hand. "Come on." Judge Masen looks from me to him, confused.

"Do you mind if I sit?" Edward swallows dryly and digs his fingers into my palm. We gaze at the Judge, pleading.

"Yes, that's fine…" He furrows his brow and scratches his head. Edward grips me and I follow as he treks across the room to sit. He plops down in the chair, burying his head between his knees. I maintain my hold on his hand and internally embrace for the storm. Sam has upgraded to barks now, pawing at his owner.

"Is he all right?" The Judge crosses his arms and I lift my head to meet his stare.

"Would you excuse us?" I strain a smile and squeeze Edward's hand. "I am so sorry." Masen nods reluctantly and at the green light, I rub Edward's shoulder. "Come on." I whisper somewhere near his ear. He stands torpidly, still gripping my palm, as I lead him and Sam out the door. Once I shut the door behind us, Sam turns pawing to me. I stare down into his frantic, beady eyes as he's attempting to tell me something I already know will happen.

"Bella," Edward's eyes are quarters. "Get me somewhere." He struggles as his brow forms sweat. I wipe it with the back of my hand and tug him.

"Let's go." He stumbles slightly as I drag him, my heart racing against the clock. Sam barks and nips at my ankles, following suit and snapping his jaw. I rack my brain for potential locations and skid to a stop in front of the men's restroom. Well, here goes. I swing the door open, ignoring the smell of ammonia radiating from the urinals. Edward squeezes my hand tightly as his eyelids flutter and I plop my purse onto the floor. I kneel down, him sitting on the floor with me, as I frantically search for two things: my cellphone and his biting block.

"Edward," I whisper and gently cup his face. "I love you."

His green eyes are quarters as he gazes at me. "I love you too." He issues before I lay his head in my lap. I hold the sides of his head firmly, his bronze hair jutting in between my fingers. He closes those beautiful eyes and I bite my lip. I taste blood. A wave of nausea washes over me but I swallow it down, staring at the tranquility of Edward's anticipation. Sam paces the room, the block in his mouth, ready to aid me.

Don't let him die. Don't let him die. Don't let him die. Please God, don't let him die.

I shut my eyes and hope. Hope that he'll live through this one. Hope that I'll have to courage to save him. Hope that he'll make it to our wedding day. Hope that he'll understand I'll do this for the rest of our lives, if it comes to that.

EPOV

What? When the hell was a drinking? Let me rephrase that. When the hell was I drinking, then getting bulldozed at the frat party before receiving a Mike Tyson uppercut? Shamu probably gave me a visit en route to the hospital. Him, her, it, being on top. Of my head.

"What…" I moan, fluttering my lids open. I stare into a bright light, my eyes burning, before a hovering angel takes it away. So the tag-team of Iron Mike and Shamu sent me to Heaven? Heaven?

"You need to yell at your brain," A gorgeous brunette frowns. "You can't keep scaring me like that." I attempt to swallow, yet my throat is sticky. Parched.

"Thirsty." I shut my eyes and exhale deeply.

"I'll talk to the nurse." The assuaging voice says sweetly and I feel a set of soft lips on my cheek. My eyes fly open. Who? What? An angel? Thank you, alcohol…

"What? Who?" I croak and land my eyes on the angelic brunette.

"Edward," She smiles sadly. "It's Bella. Don't worry, your amnesia will pass in a few moments." Amnesia? I rack my brain furiously, gritting my teeth. So there was no drinking… No frat party… No bulldozer… No heavyweight boxer… No SeaWorld orca whale… Ding.

"Bella!" I smile in a whisper. Her beautiful eyes light up as she grips my hand. My right arm is hooked up to an intravenous drip, my left at my side. Even at a brief glance the ghoulish scar is unsettling. I drink in my hospital surroundings, piecing it all together.

"Grand –"

"Mal." I finish in a sigh for her. She nods solemnly but gives me palm a squeeze. I exhale and nestle my head further into the pillow without breaking our gaze.

"You're okay now." She strains a smile. Under the fluorescent lights, I note for the first time how fatigued she appears. Her large, clear chocolate eyes spark, yet they are surrounded by faint purple bruises. They're caked with sleep, the bags weighing her milky and smooth face down. Her lids are drawn down slightly, exhaustedly, and I raise my left hand to brush her cheekbone.

"But are you?" I blink.

"What?" She touches my wrist lightly.

"You… You've had better days I presume. According to the look on your face. It's not because of me is it? God, I'm so sorry, Bella. I told you –" I fret and squirm around in the scratchy hospital bed.

"Stop," She cuts me off and sighs. I purse my lips and allow her to continue. "Edward…" She trails and doesn't meet my gaze. My heart stills, and I swear, swear to all that is holy, that my heart monitor stops with it. My breath is held. "I fainted in the ambulance. You know I can't stand blood…" I exhale.

"What?" My eyes grow wide and I squeeze her hand. "Oh Bells, are you all right now?" I probe, yet she refuses to meet my gaze.

"I'm fine, perfectly fine. It's just…" She trails.

"Talk to me." I plead.

"They had me rest for a bit to check me out –" I squeeze her palm.

"Are you so exhausted from work? From teaching? Please, don't tell me it's been me. If I'm doing something to interfere with your sleep, I'm sorry. I promise not to hog the covers –" Her hand comes down on my mouth, the rest of my sentence spilling out as incoherent mumbles.

"Edward!" She blurts and finally meets my gaze with those gorgeous eyes. "It's not work. It's not you. It's…" She bites her lip.

"It's what, Bella?" I hold my breath.

"I'm 4 weeks pregnant."

Oh snap. First chapter, that's right. Gotta get the bat crackalacking :)

Thanks for reading, I'll be surprised if any of you kept with this story!

Have a nice day, errbody

kisses, JennyCullen44