Beneath this Sky

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. This is an amateur, non-profit work.
A/N: Lattecoug and NinaQ were my betas for this chapter. Enormous thanks to both of them. Chapter 1 will go up as soon as possible. After that, updates will be every other Sunday. Thanks for reading!

Prologue

Old cars lined both sides of the street: a shantytown of sleeping giants beneath a blanket of white. Some hadn't been moved since the Surge. Others had makeshift curtains hung in the windows, marking them as homes. Even in this frozen place, some people were that desperate.

Snow crunched under her feet as she hurried to catch up with him. The flurries had started at sunset, and already the world looked as though it would be buried under the cold.

Maybe she would let it. She'd been shoveling for so many years, to no avail. Maybe she would finally give up. Let someone else fix everything.

She reached his side as he passed by an old tourist shop that still had a few broken dream catchers dangling in the cracked window. For a few moments, they walked in silence, their black umbrellas bobbing with each step. A man leaned out of a window on the second story of the shop, nicotine-yellowed fingertips clutching a lit cigarette, but he didn't seem to notice the pair below.

"You won't even consider it?" she asked, once she was certain they were out of earshot. It never hurt to be cautious, even when she felt as helpless as those poor souls living in the rusted-out remains of cars.

He sighed. God, she hated that sound. Long-suffering and deep, like listening to her was a chore, like he regretted everything.

"Please don't ask me again," he said. "I gave you my reasons."

With her eyes clenched shut, she swallowed the sob that fought to rise in her chest. "I've been such a fool, haven't I? All this time... Did you ever love me at all?"

Reaching out with his free hand, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop in the shadows. "Love you?" he whispered, his head dipping as if he wanted to kiss her. Instead, he slid his fingers under her chin and brushed his thumb over her cheek, where tears should have been. "How can you doubt it?"

"How can I not?"

His lips moved closer—almost near enough to taste—but he jerked back at the last second. Always the portrait of restraint. One of these days she would make him let go. She would drag him into the storm and watch as he spun out of control. Touching his forehead to hers, he spoke the words that had hung over them, unacknowledged, for far too long.

"I destroyed the world for you."