Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer
Finding a son
He couldn't completely comprehend it, how could anybody want such a thing for their own son? There had been only a few minutes since Elizabeth Masen died and her dying request still spun around in Carlisle's head. This is what he'd always wanted; a son and a companion who could share his burden. Edward would be perfect, just like he had imagined his own son would be like. He would never have to be alone again; perhaps even Edward could join him as a doctor? Of course this might take centuries, but eventually Edward would win over the bloodlust. But what would Edward think of this life? Would he hate it? Would he hate Carlisle for changing him? And what would Edward think of the vegetarian lifestyle? The amount of questions in Carlisle's head kept on growing as the minutes passed.
After several minutes of dwelling over the matter, Carlisle had come to a conclusion. He would do it, he would change Edward. Carlisle wasn't even quite sure how to do it. He had received so many wounds when he was changed himself, who had been the one to turn him. And then there was the pain of the transformation. Even though the other doctors had their hands full, someone would surely notice if one of their patients suddenly screamed out a bloodcurdling scream of pain. He would have to do it somewhere else, outside of the hospital. What if he took Edward to his house? It was located outside of the city, out in the woods. At the same time it would be appropriate for the after part. They could go hunting once the change was complete.
His shift was not yet over; he had almost two hours left. Edward was in such a bad condition, how could he possibly survive so long? Carlisle ran to the chief's office and gently knocked on the door. "Come in" a deep man voice sounded from the inside. Carlisle was in front of the desk in three long strides. "Doctor Welling, I'm exhausted and I'm finished with all of my patients. Do you think I could take the remaining two hours off?" Carlisle asked. "Sure Carlisle, go home and get some sleep" Welling said without looking up from the letter he was currently writing.
So far it had been easier than Carlisle had ever imagined. He had managed to get Edward all the way to the morgue. No one had even looked twice at Edward; they had been too busy with other patients. Edward didn't seem to have noticed either; he still lay unconscious in the bed. Once Carlisle arrived in the morgue, he gently lifted Edward out of the bed and started to run towards his house. Watching Edward sleep peacefully in his arms, Carlisle suddenly felt a wave of guilt roll over him. Once more he debated with himself about what he was going to do. How could he do this? Would he have the strength to do it? Was it okay to so because his own mother had begged for it?
He decided the bedroom would be the best, why not make him as comfortable as possible? Not that it would help much; the pain Edward would have to endure the following days would not decreased by a mattress. Slowly Carlisle laid Edwards limp body onto the bed. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me," Carlisle whispered into Edward ear before he reconstructed every single would he had received the night he had been changed himself so long ago. It took only seconds before Edward let out a piercing scream of pain.