Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Twilight – they belong to J. K. Rowling and Stephenie Meyer, respectively.

Author's note: Yes, yes – I've done another one. What can say – it had to be written… Enjoy!

Welcome to the Real World

Summary: Edward discovers he has a soul – in the most astonishing way… E/H slash.

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Volterra – its beauty paraded to perfection, boasted about by thousands – was entirely lost on Edward. With his mind clouded in such darkness, all he could see in front of him, ahead of him, was a desolate desert. Bella was gone. She was gone and Edward could not find it in himself to go back – back to the way he used to be, alone and emotionally destitute, watching as life passed him by without pause. What little taste of truly living he had received had been enough, and now he was addicted. He could not imagine what it would be like to never feel that high again.

It did not matter that the voice in his head, becoming more insistent as time passed, kept telling him that he was settling. He told himself that he did not need more than normal, even if he could have it. The fact was he was content for the first time. He simply could not give that up, even if doing so meant attaining something greater. That something greater was not definite in his eyes; the normal he had gained with Bella was, though. Edward sighed as his reasoning got ever weaker. His Sire would be so disappointed in him.

Then again, Carlisle was more than just his Sire. Carlisle Cullen had become to Edward a true father, in all but blood. And the relatively young vampire had misjudged his patriarch more than once previously. If Edward was to be honest with himself, something that he knew would hurt that much more, he would admit that Carlisle probably was not displeased with him, but worried about him, scared for him, and waiting patiently for him to come back home.

Yet here he was, the very first Childe of Dr. Carlisle Cullen, planning to get himself killed. And the absolute worst part: there was not even any way to keep this fact secret. What with his sister Alice's visions, the bronze-haired Edward was certain that every family member of his already knew what he was going to do. But he was trying not to think about that. If he was to consider his family now – Carlisle and his profound loss as a Sire and a father, Rose and her guilt, Emmett and his conspicuous lack of rowdiness, Jasper trying so hard to stay strong and calm, all while trying to console Alice as she let her grief be known to all – he would burn himself from the inside out before he even hit the sun and attracted the attention of the Volturi, the vampire leaders. And he needed their attention, considering they would be the ones to finish him off.

As for Esme, his darling mother figure, the woman who found it in her heart to love him so unconditionally despite all he had done – Edward shook his head harshly. He could not even think of her at all. If there was one being in existence that could make him back out of his decision now, it was Esme. He could not allow that; he could not afford to.

Edward glanced at the over-large clock of the square once again. Eleven forty-five. Soon it would be noon and the time would be perfect; he would be able to carry out the plan he had finally settled on. It was quite a simple strategy, but it would get the job done effectively. After all, sparkling like a pile of diamonds in a crowd full of humans was bound to grab attention. No one would be able to deny his unnaturalness then. The secret of vampires' existence would be out – perhaps not immediately, but it would set the ball rolling. The rulers of their world, the Volturi coven, would have no choice but to grant him his wish then. They would have to kill him.

Eleven fifty. Edward could almost taste the freedom that would come with non-existence. The lithe being began to unbutton his shirt, anxious for the end – not least of all so he could stop thinking of the destruction he knew he'd be leaving in his wake and, more than that, so he could stop feeling the crushing weight of his guilt.

He had just reached the third button on his shirt when he caught movement in his periphery vision. Turning far more quickly than any human being could accomplish, and not even trying to care about pretenses, Edward came face to face with… a teenaged boy.

At least, that was what he appeared to be. There was something fundamentally strange about him, though the vampire was not able to pinpoint exactly what that was. Part of the oddity, however, was that the boy seemed to be a mass of contradictions – at least, where his aesthetics were concerned.

He gave off a look that was at once classic and so familiar, yet utterly flawless – like a boy next door who happened to be breathtaking. His light golden skin was smooth as marble, but with a visible softness. His jaw was firm and quite masculine, but he had lips that were enticingly full. His midnight black hair seemed like silk, but was so disheveled that he might have just rolled out of bed. His arched brows and high cheekbones spoke of aristocracy, and yet there was a look in his eyes that told tales of hardships and of seeing far too much in far too little time. And his eyes – have there ever been eyes so vibrantly green as these?

Even his clothes were somewhat contradictory. He wore all black – soft black trousers, which also seemed durable; a black long-sleeved top with a Chinese-style collar, which was appealingly form fitting; and tough black boots that also seemed to offer complete comfort. All in all, he was the picture of understated sophistication, yet simultaneously gave of the air of an accomplished warrior.

An enigma, if ever there was one….

Edward blinked, and blinked again, checking to see if the vision before him might waver. The boy appeared quite solid, however, and the vampire shook his head firmly to get a hold of himself.

The youth – for he seemed to be no more than eighteen, at a stretch – looked at him curiously, his brow furrowed in confusion and his nose scrunched slightly, in the most adorable way.

Adorable? Where had that come from?

And with that, Edward seemed, finally, to have found his voice.

"Who are you?" he asked, coming across more hostile than he intended.

Thankfully, the other did not seem to pay this any mind. In fact, he seemed much too shocked that he was being spoken to at all.

"You can see me?" he asked dubiously, a British accent coloring his voice.

Edward frowned. "Of course I can see you – why would I not?"

The vampire wondered why he was being so caustic towards this stranger – it certainly was not warranted. Perhaps it was because the boy represented an unforeseen, uncontrollable obstacle to his plan.

The teenager did no more than raise an eyebrow at this (quite an alluring look, though Edward instantly shook this thought away), and ignored the tone and the question altogether, answering, sort of, the first query instead.

"Hmmm... Well, regardless, my name is irrelevant."

This irritated Edward more than it should have. He found that, contrary to the statement, the youth's name was of utmost importance to him; he needed to know it. This made no sense at all, though. After all, the boy was right – his name was irrelevant. So why was it that the Cullen wished to be told it so badly?

"Why are you here?" he asked instead, forcing himself not to press the issue, while also putting in the effort to calm himself down.

This idea flew promptly out the window, however, upon hearing the boy's answer.

"To do my job," was the simple response – with the hint of amusement in the teenager's tone, though, and the slight upward twitch of his lips, it was clear that he was, at least, aware that he was being rather irksome.

"Your job?" Edward asked, refusing to be baited. "What does your job have to do with me?"

"Everything," the boy replied plainly. The next question, however, floored the vampire. "You are planning to kill yourself, are you not?"

To say that Edward was surprised would be a gross understatement; he was flabbergasted – which he was sure could be seen clearly on his face.

"How could you possibly know that?" he asked, his voice somewhat hoarse due to his shock.

He shook his then, deciding he really didn't need the answer (and not entirely certain he wanted it at all – who was this person?) "Look, even if I was, I don't see what that has to do with you. It is not any of your business."

The unnamed teenager gave a smile at this, one filled with something Edward did not like in the least – pity.

"That's where you're wrong," he said, never losing his calm even in the face of the vampire's ire. "It is my business more than almost anyone else's."

"Why?" asked the irate vampire – who was becoming increasingly aggravated. It seemed the more he talked to the enigma before him, the less he knew! "And please, please, don't be cryptic; just answer my question!"

The teen gave a long suffering sigh, closing his eyes as though asking the Fates to give him strength. Edward could not understand this in the least as it was he who was being kept in the dark. He did have the presence of mind to understand that, at least in part, he was being teased. Thus, he simply rolled his eyes and waited, though (quite surprisingly for him) he did feel his lips twitch into a ghost of a smile.

"Listen," the boy said, causing Edward to school his features quickly, "I'm not in the habit of having conversation before this happens. But since you insist, all you need to know is that you die and I reap. That's it."

A short, bewildered silence followed this proclamation.

"Reap...?" queried the bronze-haired being, wanting to confirm that this was truly what he had heard. "As in my soul?" he further clarified.

At the other's firm nod, Edward scoffed. He could not help it, really. Of all the ridiculous things...

"Well," he said slowly, as though being indulgent to a particularly imaginative child, "even if I were to believe you, you're wasting your time – I don't have a soul."

While this fact (as Edward saw it) normally depressed the vampire no end, in this instance, though he could not fully rationalize why, he said it quite smugly.

To his disappointment, though, the raven simply chuckled wryly at this.

"I believe I would be in a better position to tell who does and does not have a soul – it's somewhat necessary in my line of work, you see?" he stated almost mockingly. "So whatever you've decided in all your ignorant glory – don't state it as fact. All right?"

Edward growled in impatience, and not a little indignation. This kid stood here spouting utter rubbish, yet had the audacity to mock him!

"You don't understand," he ground out, his body tense with the effort of retaining some semblance of calm. "I'm a va-"

"A vampire – yes, I know what you are. It does not change the way things work," was the adamant response.

The Cullen was, once more, rather stunned. How was it that this boy had all of this information? Who was he?

Shaking his head, knowing he would not be getting answers to those particular questions, Edward pushed on. "Then you know that vampires don't have souls – how can we?"

"Look," the unknown teen said, his own frustration beginning to bleed through, "if you didn't have a soul, I wouldn't have made this trip. It would have been pointless. But here I am."

He said this simply and steadily, as though this settled the matter.

Edward, however, had the distinct, and singularly most disturbing, feeling of his whole perception of the world being torn apart. He tried valiantly to cling to his denial, though.

"B-but that can't... I've always..."

"Yes, like I said," the boy interrupted carelessly, "you had made up your mind about something and, as is the way of the youth apparently, have based your entire life (as it were) on that belief – regardless of whether or not it was actually true."

The vampire's head snapped up suddenly, his gaze swinging to face the teenager.

"But that would hardly matter if I did not believe you," he said, almost desperately, finding something, however petulant, to hold onto that would not send the world crashing down around him. "And I have no reason, whatsoever, to believe that you are telling the truth. You could not possibly be…."

This time it was the stranger's turn to roll his eyes, deftly ignoring the vampire's near panicked state.

"Shall I prove myself to you, then?" he asked sweetly, while his eyes flashed an acid green.

It seemed Edward had managed to hit a nerve – he was not entirely certain he should be proud of that fact. He did not have the time for that, however, as (without even giving him the opportunity to answer) the boy moved.

It was sudden, and without doubt supernatural. The vampire had blinked and the teenager was directly in his face, nose to nose. Not a split second later, Edward gasped in shock. Looking down, he registered the strangest sight he had ever seen – not to mention the strangest sensation he had ever felt.

The boy's arm – all the way up to his elbow – was embedded into Edward's torso! It was not a painful feeling, the living dead being realized, for it was a non-corporeal being who had punched through him.

Non-corporeal... Edward thought vaguely, disconnectedly. Was the boy a ghost...?

But then, with a gasp, he found he could no longer think coherently. Warmth emanated within him, the likes of which he had never felt before. It originated from what he would guess was his very core, spreading outward throughout his entire body – his entire being. Edward felt… whole, suddenly aware of something that he now knew, with utmost certainty, had always been there.

Almost immediately, the feeling was gone, snatched from him callously. He opened his eyes (having never realized they had closed to begin with) to stare accusingly at the stranger in front of him. The boy, however, seemed just as shaken by what had happened as he himself was.

The look was gone before he could think on it, though, and the teenager spoke once again.

"That, dear Edward," he said, clearly making an effort to remain steady, and succeeding, "is your soul."

"You know my name," the vampire said dazedly, still reeling from what he had just felt and from having his world altered. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the haze that remained.

He could not think about this now, he decided firmly. He had to be away from here, clear his head first, then attempt to wrap his mind around this truth that he was so forcefully made aware of. He needed to be home, he realized with sudden clarity. He needed to be home, with his family.

"But... but why are you telling me this?" he asked, not yet willing to be away from this being.

The green-eyed boy raised a single eyebrow, bewildered. "Because you asked..."

"No," said Edward before shaking his head again. "I mean yes, I did, but don't you just have to take my soul once I'm dead?" He was finding very little reason now to bat away the teen's claims of being the… Reaper? "Why did you show up before it even happened?"

"Normally, things would have played out that way," the boy conceded. "I always, as it happens, appear before the actual death, but I am only seen by the soul after it happens." He frowned then, showing for the first time his uncertainty. "For some reason, which I have not been able to fathom, you are... special, and could see me from the start."

Edward beat down the joy that unexpectedly rose within him, hearing those words, but more importantly, from this particular person's mouth.

"Does that make you... Death?" he asked instead. He did not know how he would feel if he received an affirmative response.

The raven smiled disarmingly. "The top dog himself?" he said with amusement. "No, no I'm not. Mythology labels us, me and those with the same job as me, as Reapers. But they are in a different category. I am one of Death's Soldiers – you can think of me as being part of the elite division of Reapers."

"Soldiers?" The vampire's tone was slightly bewildered. "But that would imply combat."

The boy dipped his head in confirmation and spoke. "Indeed. Despite what you might think, some souls aren't really... cooperative. And then some are a lot more aggressive in their fight to stay. Combat becomes crucial in those cases."

"And you're here because Death thought my soul would fight?" was the incredulous question in return.

"Not your soul, particularly," the teen clarified patiently. "The souls of supernatural beings, in general, tend to be fiercer than the rest – that is why I am here."

Edward frowned then, contemplating things he never thought he would. "So… so w-where would you have taken my soul... once you had reaped it?"

Bright green considered Edward seriously for a moment, before he answered in a single word. "On."

This, quite obviously, told the Cullen heir nothing. "On? On where?"

The boy shrugged casually. "I don't know."

You don't... how do you not know?" This confounded Edward.

"Listen, mate, I really don't know," was the firm response. "I can't tell you where 'on' is; I've never been myself. I can't tell you about heaven or hell or even if they actually exist – they might not. I can't tell you about any judgment, either, because I don't know if that occurs at all. All I do is lead your soul to the door – you're the one who has to walk through it."

The vampire was fairly certain, by the calm and steady way that it was said, that the boy had given this speech before. He decided to leave it be, asking another important question instead.

"What if... what if I do not wish to walk through the door right now?"

Again, ethereal viridian eyes seemed to pin him to the spot. He broke the connection more quickly, though, and shrugged again. "Hey, you're not dead yet. This is a suicide attempt, as far I can figure, that you haven't got around to. You can change your mind." The apparent teenager met and held his gaze then, willing Edward to comprehend the seriousness of his next words. "Once it's done, though, there'd be no going back – I will reap you and your soul will move on."

Edward gave the boy a calculating look. So much more was said, there was so much more depth behind his statements, than the actual words he heard afforded.

"You don't like the idea of suicide," the vampire stated. He knew it was true and, thus, did not need to phrase it as a question. The teen answered nonetheless.

"Of course I don't like it – why would anyone like it?"

The Cullen heir rolled his eyes. "I know that. I mean the act of suicide specifically affects you. It disturbs you more than in the usual indirect sense."

The raven paused, clearly weighing whether or not to indulge Edward with a serious response. The eternal teenager sincerely hoped he would (though he could not say why it was important to him), and he felt rewarded when the boy did.

"I can't understand it," he said simply, but the frustration he felt at his lack of comprehension was palpable. "And I'm not devaluing the things people go through that get them to this point, to the point of truly believing that killing themselves is the best option... but it's still not something I'll ever be able to… I don't know… tolerate, I suppose."

"So you would have had no sympathy?" Edward asked innocently, not a hint of accusation in his voice, but mere acceptance.

The strange boy shook his head in denial. "I'd have sympathy – for your mother and father, if you have them, who'll have to live with your death; for any siblings you might have, who'll be left behind in the wake of what you've done; to any friends you have, who'll mourn due to your passing. But for you – not very much, no. I'm sorry," he added, attempting to lessen the sting of his words, and the pain that erupted in Edward as his guilt came back full force. "For you it would be more pity than sympathy, I think."

He shrugged, making eye contact once again. "Of course, I don't know you. What I think and feel should hardly be of great significance to you. And, who knows, perhaps if I knew you as your loved ones do, I may have an entirely different view on the matter."

Edward sighed, unable to fully stem his remorse this time as he did before. He comforted himself with the fact that there was no way, now that he was more aware of certain facts, that he could go through with his plan. He had just found out, without a doubt, that he had a soul – a soul. He was not even going to think about giving that away so carelessly again. "It does not matter now. I don't think I'll be –"

He stopped speaking when the boy before him cocked his head, as though listening to something. This was strange because Edward, who had the gift of vampiric hearing, could not hear anything that might have caused this.

"I have to go now," the teenager said, casual as anything, and with a smile upon his lips.

"Wait!" the vampire exclaimed, almost panicking at the thought of the boy leaving, of never seeing him again. This surprised him quite a bit, yet he could not deny the truth of it. "I mean… why?"

The raven raised an eyebrow, but replied. "Well, it looks like you've decided to change your mind – there's no reason for me to stay."

He paused contemplatively before adding, "But before I go..." He touched two fingers to each of Edward's temples and the Cullen felt warmth spread from their tips. "This conversation never happened."

Turning around, the boy was about to leave, but turned back one more time. "My name's Harry, by the way," he said, a slight smirk on his face. He then turned again, and was gone in a wisp of dark smoke.

Edward, unfreezing finally from the stupor he had been in, looked around frantically. No trace remained of the boy – Harry, his mind supplied. It was as if he had never existed. But Edward knew that he did. Even now, so soon after the encounter, the vampire knew, with certainty, that those vividly green eyes would be haunting his thoughts from then on.

He turned around once more, only just having enough time to notice her, before Bella Swan, the girl he cared for, the one he had left back in Forks, Washington – the one who was supposed to have died – crashed into him. Automatically, his arms came up around her, catching her before she hurt herself. And yet, even though he should be utterly shocked that Bella was very much alive, he found he was still incredibly distracted.

"Edward?" came Bella's frantic voice, her breathing labored. "Edward, are you okay? What's going on?"

Instead of answering, Edward swiveled around suddenly, the softest of noises behind him alerting him to the presence of others.

Not much time after, two slight figures emerged from the shadows, almost gliding instead of walking. "That is exactly what we'd like to know," the angelic voice of Jane said.

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Author's note: Well – this is the latest plot bunny that insisted on being written. What do you guys think? I do not have any definite plans for this story, so if you guys like it enough to have me continue, please leave a review letting me know.

Any suggestions you may have for how you want this story to go will definitely be taken into consideration. If, however, there isn't really any interest for this fic, then I will rework it so that it can stand as a one-shot.

Let me know :) Thank you.