Title: Flying on Karma Air

Summary: Carlisle got his wish. Right?

Disclaimer: Characters belong first to Stephenie Meyer and this story idea to Savage7289

Contest : DieDaddyCDie

Edward held the small wooden box. On the top was a small brass plate he'd had engraved at Things Remembered. All it said was "Carlisle Cullen"

He didn't need much space.

He sat down on the grass with a spade, just to the side of his mother's memorial and looked at the wildflower bouquet resting there, the soft colors reminding him of his home. That though made him smile and he began to dig the small hole required by the box.


Edward remembered the last day he'd seen him. Carlisle had been all smirks and laughter at the hotel with Aro that morning. He'd just signed the full, final contracts that would bind his son to Italy for the foreseeable future. Edward had been invited to the dinner in Seattle, but he'd declined,telling them he'd prefer to pack up his own room and attend a party with his team and their fans. He remembered watching the Limousine roll away, taking them to the local airstrip for a private jet flight to dinner.

Charlie had found Edward three hours later, sitting on a picnic bench in the park. He'd finished off two six packs of "Vitamin R" seeing as he would be leaving for Italy before graduation and he wouldn't find too much of that in Volterra.

Edward did not say a word on the way to the station, or to the chief's house.

Bella hadn't spoken to him for the duration. He stayed there, on the sofa while things happened around him. Edward had nodded and agreed to whatever plans were put in front of him.

He didn't snap out of it until the day of the memorial, when Bella brought him his suit and helped him tie his tie.

"Edward, I'm sorry"

"I'm not. I guess ..."

"I know he made you do it. Why did you rub it in?"

Before Edward could answer, Charlie came in and they left for the Memorial in the High School Gym. Nothing stood out in his mind about that, it was the two men in dark suits and earpieces that stuck in his memory.

That and the fact that he'd sat next to Bella, even though she was silent, she'd held his hand.

The pair in suits had spoken to Charlie, and after the greeting line and the refreshments were served, he'd followed the two men to a classroom and Bella and Charlie had followed.

They had found the black box and a cockpit recorder. Apparently Aro had his enemies as well. When they asked if he would like to hear some of what had gone on; Edward struggled.

Would it be too much like mom? In the end, he nodded his permission and the recording began to play.

At first it was muffled sounds, glasses clinking and the pop of a champagne cork. Muffled names: Hedi, Aro, Carlisle and Vicki, pouring and slight toasts, then the real conversation began.

Carlisle: "Seven Years, Aro. He's all yours for seven years."

Vicki: "Was he the boy with the bright eyes?"

Hedi: "Oh yes, such a boy, but no fun. No fun at all"

Aro: "What my dear. Losing your touch?"

Carlisle: "I heard him break up - I told him, focus on the game, he'd be ... taken care of. His loss, my gain."

Aro: "Maybe he'd prefer a redhead, a fast, sweet number? Vicki, pay him attention tomorrow."

Vicki: "I prefer older boys, at least 20."

Aro: "Darling, I also know you like your paycheck. Dolce and Gabanna like to be paid on time. Capiche?"

Vicki: "yes ... sir."

The next sound startles everyone in the room. The recording again becomes jumbled and the words oxygen are heard.

The next voice is the Captain's:

"You sir may be fine with selling your son for seven years. I am not. Aro, you took Gianna away from us, her family. Now you are taking Vicki too."

Aro spoke, demanding to know who he thought he was. He thought he could hear his father asking the same things, the girls shrieking and sobbing, then the sounds of a scuffle and three sharp bangs.

It was quieter for a few minutes, then someone spoke again.

"Aro you are an idiot. I am the pilot, Capt. Roberto James Cacciatore! I can't land the plane with this damage. You shot the radio, the hydraulics and the gauges. I won't get to see my grandson and you will never know your son. Yes, maldecavi! your son. Gianna came home, after. She took the baby Demitri, to Phoenix, to a friend. She came home and died. Now you got your hooks into my baby. My youngest. Victoria. How dare you!"

The name Demitri rang in Edward's mind. There couldn't be that many Soccer players in Phoenix with that name.

One he'd earned a red card over.

Charlie had to hear this was the first clear thought in Edward's head. He'd forgotten who all was in the room.

The suits shut off the recording at that point, saying it was just screams and prayers from that point on until the recording stopped. Until impact.

The pilot had missed a few farmhouses, clipping a few trees on his descent, but being so heavy with fuel, there was not a lot left. The fireball had shot into the night sky like a beacon. The photo they showed made it look like ... yeah it really did look like a raised finger. Edward had to work to suppress a very inappropriate chuckle.

The suits stood and spoke to Charlie. Edward learned that his contract was not yet submitted to Italy. He was free. Charlie and the suits continued to talk. They spoke of universities and National and Edward pretty much tuned them out

"I am Free." He spoke it softly to himself, afraid the spell would be broken if he raised his voice.

Edward looked around the room and noticed Bella was at the back table, staring out the window, overlooking the pitch.

He walked back, holding his breath the entire way.

Fortune favored the bold, as she turned on the sound of his footsteps to face him.

"Hi. I'm Edward. Edward Cullen." He held out his hand.

"Hi" she murmured as she took his with a firm grip. "The course of true love never did run smooth." She whispered as her other hand came to rest on his shoulder.

As they pulled each others arms around them, he came to rest his chin on her head as she tucked it into his chest. If one had cause to listen closely, "My Rumple" was being murmured into her locks.


She had chosen the wildflowers for his mother. He stared at them for a moment as his feet tamped the sod back over the little box.

All's well that Ends Well!

A/N: Yep, so this was written before Chapters 87 and 88 were available. It was written right after I read the phone call ...

SO, here's the drill - read, review, vote and repeat - well, not all of that exactly, but I do have an alternate view of the incident, on my profile, so at the very minimum, let me know which one you liked the best - and I will translate the Italian for you