Edward wants to care. About Esme keeping busy. Rose getting herself another new honeymoon. Alice's shopping. How the Denali are. He wants to hold on to anything for longer than the moment it's said. Except the only urge that stays that is a wave of distant, untouchable, nothing by watchable, swell of panic any second Carlisle pauses.

Like if he stopped talking, the world might stop seconds later.
But even as he clutches toward the sound, he can't force himself to care.
About the words the sounds make up, anymore than caring about not moving in days.
Their's is normal world and all the he had of on is slipped beyond his grasp now.