Simon heaved as he collapsed onto his hands and knees in the grass outside of the pack house. He spit venom out of his mouth, watching the grass wither and die under the effect of the corrosive fluid. Venom burned through his throat, his shoulders beginning to shake as sobs tore out of his mouth. His hands clawed at his throat, one ripping the collar of his shirt apart to get it away from his neck. His nails dug into his throat, though it did nothing to stop the grotesque amounts of venom his body appeared to be producing. The venom glistened his fangs in the setting sun, perhaps a last warning for his prey to run whilst they still could.

"Simon...SIMON!"

He could feel someone shaking his shoulders, but his vision had blurred long past the point of seeing who was in front of him.

"Get...away...from...her."

His fingers unwrapped themselves from the fabric of his tattered shirt. The ground became more stable beneath him as he pulled away from the hands latched to his shoulders and pushed himself to stand. Everything in his mind muddled within itself, barely keeping track of his mission. He needed to escape whatever hell he had put himself into. What danger he had unknowingly subjected upon the heart of the pack.

"SIMON!...Simon!...Simon....Sim..."

The farther he got, the easier it was. His thoughts became clearer as the scent of blood receded from his memories. His throat still burned, but no longer from his quenching hunger. Fingers tentatively pressed against his neck, and he winced in a breath as he pulled back a venom-coated hand. He tugged off the tattered remains of his shirt, wiping off as much of the clear liquid as he could.

Beau. Shit.

The thought entered his mind so quickly; he was running back toward the pack house before he could decide if it was a smart decision to return. He didn't know how much time had passed since he left. Edward's phone was in his hand and he was calling Leah in the span of a second. She picked up on the first ring.

"I'm so sorry, I thought your scents would have covered hers. Make me more immune. I'm on my way back. Where's Beaufort? Is he okay? Please tell me he is okay."

"He's alright. One of the boys got Edward. He was just here and he got Beaufort. They're coming to find you now. Edward thought it wouldn't be a good idea for you to come all of the way back here."

The calmness in Leah's voice caught Simon as odd. She had just watched him almost drain the life out of her cousin, and Simon had been expecting a more explosive reaction.

"I'm sorry I ruined your big day," Simon found himself murmuring into the phone as a silence overcame the call. He couldn't understand what was happening within his own body, but he needed to pull himself together. He clicked off the call as he heard footsteps and the short cry of "Babe!" Edward released as his eyes landed on Simon. Beaufort squiggled his way out of Edward's arms, running across the short distance between his dads.

"Baba!" He shouted as he crashed into Simon, his short arms hugging his Dad around the waist.

Simon sank to his knees, wrapping Beau up tightly into his arms. His hand brushed Beau's chestnut curls back as he pressed a kiss to his temple. Leaves crunched under Edward's approach, stopping short of his partner and son. He extended a hand to Simon, which Simon took to stand back up. Beaufort tugged on Simon's hand, asking to be carried back. Edward helped Beaufort up onto Simon's back, their son's arms wrapped loosely around Simon's neck. The husbands joined hands once more, and they both held on tight as they started their trek back home.

***

"What's going on? I thought you were out hunting?" Simon slowed to a stop as he returned home with Edward and Beaufort. Their family eagerly stood on the patio outside of the front door. Everdale was nowhere in sight nor smell, allowing Simon some peace of mind. Esme stepped forward, holding her hand out toward Simon. Simon stepped closer, taking the key she held out for him. Simon glanced over at his husband, only to see his smiling face.

"We thought it was about time you, Edward, and the twins got your own place. It was meant to be ready by Bella's birthday, but...," Esme trailed off, only to quickly clear her throat, "Anyway. Um, it's fully ready now. I thought that maybe we could watch the twins so you and Edward could go check it all out."

"I...okay, yeah," Simon said, "Thank you. That sounds nice."

Simon watched Beaufort run inside to go find Renesmee with the rest of their family following after, part from Carlisle's hesitant form. Edward clocked Carlisle's questioning thoughts regarding Simon's current lack of shirt and the claw marks on his neck. Edward shrugged off his sweater, passing it over to Simon as it revealed the button-up he had been wearing beneath it. Edward glanced back at Carlisle as Simon pulled on the sweater, faintly shaking his head to the blond doctor. Carlisle nodded his head back, turning to follow the rest of their family inside. Edward took Simon's hand, offering a small smile as he led the brunet along one of the many paths through the surrounding woods.

Simon's throat felt tight. He exhaled slowly, swallowing hard as a house crept into view. It was a quaint little cabin nestled in amongst the trees, with lanterns lining the moss-covered stones leading up to the front door. Simon stepped up to the door, sliding the key into the lock before it clicked open. He pushed open the door and took a step inside.

The warmth that hit him was unexpected. The fireplace crackled, its flames scattering light throughout the cozy living room just beyond the entrance of their new home. The wall had three sections of built-in shelves, one above the mantle and one to each side of the fireplace. The first section was to the left, filled with rows upon rows of Edward's musical collections. From his CDs and vinyl records to sheet music, it was all laid out for everyone to see. The section above the mantle, the smallest of the three, held the photo books that Simon had construed throughout his life. Some of the pictures were put into frames and provided a peek inside of Simon's photography. The last section was completely empty, though boxes were stacked up on the floor in front of it.

The kitchen was stocked with everything they would need to feed the twins and whatever wolves would most likely stumble in for a quick snack. Simon's favorite part was the breakfast nook Esme had supplied in place of a traditional dining table. It offered a beautiful view into the forest and the cushioned bench would be a nice place to relax, even without using it to eat.

Simon wandered down the hall, vaguely aware of Edward's presence following him along. The twins would be sharing a bedroom here as they do at the main house, but there was a spare bedroom for whenever they decided they wanted their own spaces. So far, Simon hadn't found anything to complain about. It was all well to his liking, most likely thanks to his sister's taste being quite similar to his own. Their bedroom, however, was nothing like he would have imagined.

It looked so utterly cozy that Simon found himself collapsing onto their new bed. He stretched out across it on his back with his hands behind his head, taking in the smooth crimson sheets and the giant mountain of pillows. Edward joined Simon in their bed, stretching out against Simon's body. His slender hands pulled Simon closer and wrapped themselves in Simon's locks as his lips were captured between Edward's. Simon knew the second his body gave in, feeling the energy in the room shift as Edward straddled his waist. Edward trailed his lips down, pressing light kisses against the marks that still littered Simon's pale neck. Movement flashed in Simon's gaze on the ceiling, and his brows drew sharply together.

"Eddie," Simon murmured with his hand wrapped through Edward's bronze hair as he sat up, tugging gently to redirect his attention to the ceiling. "Why is there a mirror above our bed?"

The older man's eyes widened at the sight, his words failing to leave his mouth for a few seconds before he finally managed to get out his words.

"Dammit, Alice, it was supposed to be a joke!"

Simon choked on his laughter, trying his best not to cackle at the petrified look that consumed Edward's expression. He pulled Edward back into a kiss, breaking it only for a second to utter his interest.

"I think I'll enjoy it. Shall we break it in?"

"God, yes," Edward said, shoving Simon back down on his bed with such force that Simon instinctively sucked in a sharp breath of air. Simon swallowed hard as Edward's eyes met his, realizing he may have bitten off more than he could chew with the eagerness he found in those golden eyes.

***

Music blasted throughout the house, Simon's hearty voice echoing the lyrics with swaying hips. He rearranged some of the decorations put up by Esme and Alice, positioning it all to his preference. He shuffled around his photo albums on his shelf, from the oldest to the newest. One album was still missing, once hidden underneath a loose floorboard in his apartment until about two months. He wasn't sure if he was ready to bring it into their new home, were it could be found by anyone who visited.

His head shook the thought away. The cardboard boxes in the corner of the living room caught his attention and he strode over with purposeful steps. The lid slid off in one piece, revealing some of the books that used to reside in Charlie's house in Bella's old room. His brow drew together, uncertain of why they hadn't been put up on the empty shelves. Had Esme been worried that he and Edward wouldn't want to see them? She must have, but at least she left the boxes there for them to decide for themselves.

Edward and Simon's hobbies were already displayed within the room, so why not display hers, too. Soon enough, the shelves began to fill up as Simon tried his best to replicate the way Bella used to organize them. Clusters were separated by genre, and then by the authors within those clusters. It made sense to Simon, and before he knew it, there was only one book remaining.

He withdrew the final novel from the last cardboard box, and the apple of his throat bobbed as he regarded it within the light. He hesitantly brushed his thumb across the worn yet maintained copy of Wuthering Heights. He smiled sadly before he raised the book toward to the shelf, only for a slip of parchment to fall from within its pages. He paused, putting the book in its spot before he picked up the paper.

Funny thing, Love.

Love. I've fallen for it, once. I fell for an angel, and he left me alone and confused. I loved, and it hurt. And though I don't wish it, I believe I am falling all over again. No matter how much I fight it, no matter how badly I don't want it, I find myself about to hit the ground. Will he catch me, or will he step aside, leaving my heart to break all over again?

Funny thing, Love.

Always full of surprises. He caught me. He actually caught me. He loved me.

Funny thing, Love.

He introduced me to a new kind of comfort that I have never before experienced. I feel so at peace around him. So happy. So carefree. So me.

Funny thing, Love.

When my angel came back, he didn't leave. He stayed, and he continued to love me. His love for me wasn't a question; he gave me the chance to choose. The option to NOT choose. So, I didn't.

Funny thing, Love.

As a wife of two, and a soon-to-be mother, I couldn't have found two better people to build a life with. To spend the rest of time with.

So, yes. Love is a funny thing, Simon realized. It has a way of turning something so filled with happiness into a bittersweet knife that pierced straight through his heart.