I took a deep breath before reaching for the phone. I couldn't put it off any longer; I had to call him. We hadn't spoken since I blew him off during their 'disagreement' with the Volturi.
And I missed him. A lot. At times so much it hurt.
It rang and rang before clicking over to voice mail. Not his voice mail but someone else's.
My heart sank.
"H-hi, it's…um…" I hung up, wanting to cry. It was no use. The number did not belong to one of them. I clenched my fist, shattering my phone into thousands of pieces.
I didn't need it anyway. I didn't need him either, or so I tried to fool myself. I was a nomad; I didn't need anything, anyone. But still the desperate ache to see him burned inside of me.

I missed his innocence, whether it was faked or real I shall never know, but it was beautiful, fascinating. I missed the light the he carried with him, a sense of belief and faith. And the golden eyes which captivated one's soul whenever he spoke; his voice melodic and fluent; his laugh musical. Most of all it was his sense of humanity that drew me in; the way he felt for every living thing, along with his strange self-doubt.

Three days later I walked the streets in the pouring rain. I was no more alone than usual, but felt desolate, abandoned. For some reason that was beyond me I drifted into a town, being carried down the street by a raft of warm bodies. Each person I passed glanced up at my crimson eyes, first in question and then in horror. I didn't care; it didn't matter. It wouldn't make any difference to anyone if the Volturi killed me.
Suddenly someone grabbed me, pulling me back into a shelter.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Garrett demanded. "Do you have a death wish?" He was holding the tops of my arms so tightly it hurt.
I stared at my feet, not having the words to answer.
"Alistair?" he asked again.
"Garrett, what's going on?" Tanya asked, appearing somewhere behind him.
"This idiot just walked through a crowd of humans, risking exposing himself. You're going to get yourself killed!" he growled at me.
"Why do you care?!" I spat at him, pushing him back and ripping away. We glared at each other across the small space. We used to be friends, but apparently not anymore.
Tanya stepped in-between us.
"Where am I?" I whispered to her, thoroughly confused as to how I had come across her coven in the first place.
She smiled wearily. "You're in Alaska, Alistair." She touched my arm in the same place he had before squeezing my shoulder.
"Oh…" I put my head down again and squeezed my eyes shut. This was too close to Forks.
"What happened?"
I shrugged but couldn't bring myself to look at her.
"Do you want to come back with us?" she asked carefully. "Just until you get your bearings back?"
I sniffed, trying not to cry again but nodding anyway. It was not my bearings that I wanted back.
"Okay then, come on." She took my hand, coaxing me forward and toward their car.

Garrett sat next to me but we didn't speak, didn't even look at each other.
"Are you feeling okay, Alistair? I mean you're not sick?" Tanya asked, glancing back at me.
I felt sick but it had nothing to do with a disease, only a general anxiety regarding a deep longing. I shook my head, letting my hair fall across my face.
"He's shivering, maybe he has a flu or something," Kate interjected.
"Kate, you could just ask him- never mind. Carlisle is coming later, would you let him help you?"
At the mention of his name my throat became tight and I couldn't breathe. Stifled sobs shook me but I couldn't shut it off.
"Hey, it's okay," Garrett murmured, hugging me tightly.
I wanted to fight him off but couldn't bring myself to do it; I longed for the contact too much.
"What happened, did you two have a fight?" he asked carefully, rubbing my back.
I shook my head. "I just-just…miss him," I mumbled, gaining control of myself. Although it was embarrassing it felt better to have told someone.
He smiled. "Well, he misses you too."
I was glad I wasn't human; the heat would have rushed to my face.

When I heard their car pull into the driveway I squeezed my eyes shut and ducked my head.
There was a shuffling of feet and everyone except myself was moving.
"Is Carlisle with you guys?" Garrett asked casually but I knew it was for my benefit.
"No," Esme replied softly. "He's in hospital."
That was enough. I ran upstairs to the room they had lent me, closed the door and curled up on the bed. I hugged my legs, trying to make myself as little as possible and buried my face in the blanket, trying to muffle the sounds of my sobs. What had happened to him to hospitalise him? Had someone hurt him? That wasn't fair- he was nice to everyone. He didn't deserve anything like that. And why wasn't Esme with him? That wasn't fair either, that he was all alone. I had a sudden thought that I could go to him if I could get information about where he was out of someone, but I shoved it away; he wasn't mine to worry about.
Somewhere deep inside me that stung and brought on a whole new round of tears. I was at the point now where not only did I want him – I needed him. And I couldn't even see him.
I cried until I felt as though I might throw up, desperately trying to calm down so I wouldn't have to explain to anyone why I was in this state in the first place. Eventually I exhausted myself enough that I could sleep lightly in fits and starts, but every time I woke up I was reduced to tears.

Around 2am I awoke again, for some reason in more emotional pain the ever before. My stomach churned with anxiety. As much as I was relieved no one had come in, it burnt that I didn't have anyone who cared enough to check on me.
I tried to drown my cries and semi-succeeded, but I feared they were still loud enough to be heard – not that anyone cared. I tightly squeezed my eyes shut, trying to think of something happy, but I came up with nothing. All I could think about was Carlisle.
"Hey, Alistair, what's wrong?" someone asked softly. They slid their arms around my waist, pulling me upright and hugging me gently, giving me the comfort I so craved.
"Car-lis-le…" I whimpered, my words broken by sobs. I felt too sick to say anymore.
"Yes? What's wrong? What happened?" They pulled me back a bit, wiping the tears off my face. "Are you hurt?"
I glanced up at them and suddenly realised who it was. The room spun but I was filled with an elated joy, an uttermost happiness, yet I could still not stop crying. I wrapped my arms around him, never wanting to let go again.
"Please tell me what's wrong," he pleaded, rubbing my back.
I couldn't bring myself to do it. "I-I'm okay," I squeaked instead.
"Are you sure?" he asked carefully.
I nodded, starting to calm a bit now I was close to him. "When did you get here?" I asked once I could speak normally again. I wiped my face dry.
"Just now," he smiled. He sounded tired.
"Esme said you were in hospital…" I squeezed him a little tighter, closing the space between us.
"I hurt my hand; It wasn't anything too bad."
"What'd you do?" I pressed, still incredibly worried.
He laughed quietly and the sound made me smile. "I slipped over and bent my wrist the wrong way."
"…Did you break it?"
He nodded.
"And that's all?"
"Yes, Alistair, I'm fine," he chuckled. "I promise."
"But you're warm," I pushed; sure he wasn't telling me something.
"They gave me medication so it wouldn't hurt so much when they put the brace on. It raises your body temperature."
"Okay. Do you feel okay apart from that?"
"Yes." He paused for a minute and then shifted uncomfortably. "Hey Alistair? Can you, um, let go a little please?" he asked quietly.
As he said it I realised my arms were aching from squeezing him so tightly. "Sorry." I stifled a yawn, tried again.
"Sleepy, huh?" he teased, rubbing my side.
"No." I protested, scared that he wouldn't be there if I went to sleep.
"Sure," he chuckled. He lay down, still with his arms around me, and pulled me down with him so I was lying beside him.
I cuddled into him without thinking about it, struggling to keep my eyes open. "I missed you," I whispered to him in the darkness.
"I missed you too," he murmured.
"You're nice to hug when you're warm."
He didn't say anything, tired as well I guessed.
"…Will you stay tonight?" I asked shyly, suddenly very insecure. "I mean…stay…with… me?"
"Of course I will." I could tell he was smiling.
"Thank you."

In the morning I woke up with my arms wrapped tightly around Carlisle's waist, having moulded myself to the shape of him. Scared that he would be upset with me when he woke, I didn't dare move, just watched him. I couldn't help the small smile that grew across my face; he was completely adorable and I never had the chance to stare at him like I did now. I had never really thought about it before but he was incredibly attractive, pretty even though he was a guy.
He stirred slightly so I withdrew my arms, pulling away from him as much as I could before I hit the wall. Theoretically I could see why two people weren't supposed to want to sleep together in a single bed, but I was absolutely loving having him this close to me. Even though we weren't touching I could feel the heat of him.
When his breathing became irregular again I realised that he was awake too. Slowly, very, very slowly, he rolled over to we were lying face to face. I was acutely aware that his lips were inches from mine.
"Do you have a good sleep?" I asked softy, unable to resist reaching up and brushing his hair off his face.
He smiled a little and nodded, his hands fidgeting with the collar of my shirt. "I missed you, Alistair," he whispered shyly. "Like I missed you a lot…"
I smiled back. "I missed you too, Carlisle-" I cut myself off when he hugged me tightly, closing the small space between us and burying his face in the crook of my neck. I rubbed my hand up and down his back.
"We can't do that again, okay? Never again – I have to see or talk to you or something- more often than once every twenty years…" His body was trembling slightly and he was cuddling into me further.
I let him, surprised. "Are you cold, my friend?" I asked, worried about his shaking.
He shook his head. "I just don't want to go again. We have to leave today…"
"Oh…okay…" I frowned, a lump forming in my throat.
"Come on, you two love birds, out of bed," Garrett smirked, leaning on the door frame. His smile faded as he watched Carlisle.
"Soon," I told him, giving Carlisle a little squeeze.
He nodded in understanding and left again, closing the door properly.
"Please Alistair…" he whispered desperately.
"I promise, Carlisle," I told him, trying to pull him back a little so I could see his face but he wouldn't let me. I flipped him onto his back, lying on top of him with his face in my hands. He looked so upset and I would have done anything to take it away. "I'll call you. Once a week at least." Just please, please don't be sad anymore.
He smiled unsurely, not believing me obviously, but nodded anyway.
"Okay?"
"Okay," he mumbled back.
I relaxed again and got off him, standing and straightening my clothes.
He watched me, smirking when I caught his eye. "Are you trying to hide the fact we slept together, Alistair?" he teased.
I rolled my eyes. "Don't be an ass. If you're going to make me late for breakfast, I get bragging rights."
He went to answer me but laughed instead, sitting up. Somehow, even though I was a complete mess, he looked completely perfect. "Speaking of breakfast, is there any chance I could convince you to have breakfast with me?" he asked carefully, all joking gone. His smile was cautious now.
My temper flared a little; I hated this subject. "I didn't know you were changing your diet, Carlisle." The comment came out harsh, sort of mocking. "So you've finally come to your senses then? Good. It's about time." I gave him a cold look.
He looked away from me and at the floor. "A simple 'no' would have been fine." He stood, quickly crossing the room and closing the door behind him, loud enough that I knew he was pissed off with me. Or as pissed off as Carlisle ever got.
"I like you, but I swear to god I hate that part of you," I scoffed, hoping he heard me, before jumping out the window.

When I returned, I made a point of singling him out, making sure we were alone together.
He turned away, not ready to face what would have been a torrent of abuse had he been anyone else.
I grabbed him, pinning him to the wall by his wrists.
He held his breath as my fingers grazed over his brace, the little touch obviously hurting.
I kept my hand on it anyway, trying to make a point that I could cause him a lot of pain, but I wasn't going to. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to start that again," I told him quietly.
He tried to pull his hand out from under mine. "It doesn't matter."
"Yes it does; I shouldn't have said that."
"And I shouldn't have mentioned it. I know your opinion on that topic."
I winced as I remember the amount of insults, abuse and downright bullying I'd given him last time he was brave enough to broach the subject. "I'm sorry, Carlisle. You know I'm bad at this-"
"It doesn't matter, Alistair. We have to leave soon anyway."
"You only just got here," I whined, suddenly wishing for last night all over again. "You can't leave."
"Maybe it's for the better. We're only going to fight."
His words knocked all the fight out of me and I dropped my hands to my side, freeing him. "Fine," I mumbled. "Good bye then."
He nodded, just watching me as I made for the door, fighting tears again. I missed him already.

When I came back to the house the Cullens were gone. More specifically Carlisle was gone.
"What happened with you two?" Garrett asked carefully, coming to stand next to me.
"I don't know," I told him. "He's difficult."
He chuckled. "I thought you said you missed him," he teased.
"And then I saw him again. Now I don't," I lied.
He obviously didn't believe me.
I sighed. "I need to move again, Garrett, but thank you for letting me stay with you. And for…everything else. Can you tell Tanya too?"
"Of course." He smiled, hugging me briefly before going up the stairs. "But you'd better call Carlisle like you promised. He needs you. You're the only one he trusts like that and he's going through some shit at the moment."
I nodded, making for the door, hiding that I was rolling my eyes.

Three months later my missing Carlisle began to turn into an acute dislike. He wouldn't talk to me very long, was always distracted as hell and sometimes refused to answer my calls. Screw him.
"Randall," I muttered, finally finding the nomad I had been stalking for weeks.
"Alistair," he said in surprise.
"I need a drink. Interested?" I grumbled.
"Actually, I've just been hunting…but I'll come with you if you want…" he looked a little confused.
"Of the alcoholic kind," I clarified.
He grinned. "In that case, sure."
I trudged past him, knowing he would follow me, and headed for the bar.

Two hours later I was so drunk I was almost falling from my stool, however Randall was almost completely sober.
"What's gotten you to this state so quickly?" he teased lightly.
"Carlisle Cullen," I slurred. "He's an asshole." As I said it, my phone rang. As I looked down and saw the name, I pressed ignore. If he wasn't going to talk to me when I wanted, I wouldn't talk to him at all.
"I've been telling you that for years," he smirked.
"He's so fucking…He just doesn't understand anything. Like he's got this thing about his father. 'My father abused me so I'm never going to set foot in England again because I'm a FUCKING COWARD!" I mocked him, smashing my glass in the process. "I mean so what? Who gives a fuck? You dad hurt you when you were a child? Good. You were probably a terrible child. Deserved it." I leaned forward toward him. "He killed his own mother, you know. She died giving birth to him. Still fucks him up to this day. It's bloody ridiculous." I laughed, unable to help myself. "Aro kicked him out of the Volturi because he was too little. His stupid vegetarian shit doesn't let him put on weight, but of course he's never told Esme this." I sipped my drink. "Come to think of it, his marriage is a sham. She doesn't love him; there's no way in hell she does!" I gritted my teeth, anger fuelled by alcohol swelling within me. "Whiney fucking asshole. I hate him! I'll be damn glad if I never have to speak to him again! Stupid fucking-" I stopped talking when my phone beeped. I glanced down at it. Slowly realisation settled over me; I hadn't pressed ignore, I'd pressed answer. Shit. He'd heard everything.
I was suddenly nauseous and very dizzy, vaguely recognising I was falling.

I awoke in a pool of my own vomit with a pounding headache. The fact I had to clean myself up was new; last time this happened when I woke up I was in a clean change of clothes being handed coffee and Disprin. By Carlisle.
Crap. Carlisle.
I fumbled to find my phone, ripping it out of my pocket and quickly finding his number.
"Carlisle, I'm so, so sorry, I didn't mean any of it," I cried when it hit the answer machine. "Please answer your phone."
Throughout the day I repeated the same call and plea, hoping against hope that he might pick it up. He didn't, and I wanted to cry every time I fail. So I did the next best thing I could think of; call Garrett.
"Alistair?" he asked as he answered, sounding a little bewildered.
"Yes. Garrett I need you to do me a favour…"
"Um, okay," he agreed hesitantly.
"I need you to get Carlisle to answer his phone," I told him quickly. "Please? I fucked up really bad and I hurt him and he wont pick up and I really, really need to apologise."
"You're grovelling to Carlisle," he chuckled.
"Please, Garrett. I'm begging you."
He sighed. "Okay, fine."
"Thank you," I sighed. "Thank you so much."
"I don't know what you've done, but you better fix it," he grumbled before hanging up.

I almost cried in relief when my phone rang and his mumbled light up the screen.