Prologue: A Glimpse Of The Future Past

Dedication: To my Cella. Again. Because you must be the most spoiled person on the planet. Happy birthday, my darling girl. I love you and your stupid plot bunnies to death.

Disclaimer: I'm not SM. I am KMS and not making any money off of this... unless I'm writing it at work. Which is likely. But they're not paying me for this. Hehehe.

Edward Cullen came awake slowly, and, as sleep released him from its mind-muddling grip, he caught his eyes before they blinked open. Breathing in through his mouth helped calm the flutter of nerves in the pit of his stomach, but nothing could keep a handle on his desperate hope. Keeping his eyes tightly closed, Edward put all his energy into a single wish.

He wished that when he opened his eyes it would be 2011 again, and he'd be in his California King-sized bed in his own house. Even after all this time, it seemed like a surreal and bizarre thing to hope for. However it had happened, whether this was his hell for all the lives he'd fucked up - his own included - or it was some never-ending nightmare, he'd awaken in his king-sized bed in his parents' house on January 8th, 1999 more times than he could remember.

So Edward screwed his eyes closed and wished with everything inside of him.

When he opened his eyes, his vision was blurred. He'd gotten Lasiks at 25. If he couldn't see without his glasses, that meant he was younger than that. The fact that he could make out the blurred shape of the posters that littered his ceiling confirmed his worst fear. He was still 17. Again.

I fixed it. I set it right.

His thoughts were desperate, pleading with whatever divine entity might have been listening.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his impromptu prayer. "Sweetheart?"

It was amazing how instantaneously his mother's voice had a calming effect on him. As he expected, she opened the door a moment later, peering in the room. Edward scrambled for the glasses on his nightstand, putting them on because if he was going to be 17 again, he was going to soak in his mother's presence.

"If you don't get up soon you'll be late for school," she said, with a doting smile. Not caring if the move made him look 7 instead of 17, Edward sat up and held his arms open.

Why do you want to get back to 2011 so badly? A voice in his head asked as Esme sat on the edge of his bed, and he all but threw himself into her arms. What's waiting for you there?

His 29 year old self had his own house, his own company, and all the power and respect that went with it. It was unquestionably less of a pain in the ass to be an adult. He could buy his own alcohol again, and wander off without telling anyone about it. Work, as much as he occasionally loathed it, was far less annoying than being in high school again; Edward hadn't enjoyed being around teenagers when he was one let alone twelve years later.

But with his mother's arms around him, Edward could see the benefit of staying in this time and place. After all, the little voice in his head was right. In 1999, Esme and Carlisle Cullen, his parents, were still alive. He had a good, if slightly antagonistic, relationship with his older brother. In 2011 he lived alone - respected but ultimately disliked. As a teenager, he hadn't had a great amount of friends, but he'd had his best friend. Jasper.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, except that on top of somehow finding himself back in time, Edward also found himself repeating the same day. Over. And over. And over. And over.

January 8th, 1999.

"Your breakfast is ready," Esme said. "If you hurry up, you can beat your father to the bacon."

Smiling at his mother, Edward resigned himself to another day. At least he would get to eat breakfast with his father before he left. Maybe Emmett would steal the last piece of toast. Jasper would be waiting for him and maybe he'd even get to talk to that new girl in Biology. What was her name?

Bella Swan.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stretching as he did so. Resigned, he looked over at the horribly geeky Epoch alarm clock that sat on his nightstand. It displayed the date and time in Standard, Hexadecimal, Octal, Binary, Roman. He knew what the display would be before he looked, but he looked anyway.

He froze, blinking, almost not comprehending the sight in front of him. He didn't know whether to be excited or frightened.

~7:07 A.M., January 11, 1999~

A/N: So, I'm posting this prologue as a gift to my darling Cella. This fic will not start updating until Underworld is finished, which won't be too long.

Initial thoughts?