Disclaimer: All characters appearing in any of the stories posted here are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. I do not, in any way, profit from any story posted here and that all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
Elysium
Emmett McCarty's life… and afterlife.
Born on a dirt floor amongst the red and orange trees of the Smoky Mountains Emmett McCarty screamed to life with a sharp excited cry a few weeks too early and a few pounds too small.
Daddy had died when he'd been a small boy and Mama had been their family's rock. She'd taught him and his big brothers to shoot and she would tend to the gardens with his sister. She'd sew up their britches and shirts outta potato sacks and always made sure they cleaned their shoes. And she was the one to slap the back of our heads in church when they were goofing around and made them pay attention to the good word.
His Mama was everything. A strong woman that loved without restraint.
He'd loved his family, his home. He'd loved his life.
Home was a sweet dream, even in the hard life of a poor southern family.
Home was home.
The crooked front porch and the tin roof that put him to sleep when the rain came down in sheets. He had loved that creaky wooden floor, the faded yellow curtains, the quilt his Mamaw had made for him that hung over his bed. They didn't have a lot but they loved what they did have.
He was a rambunctious child, a little on the small side, that quickly grew into a behemoth of a boy that loved nothing more than turning his Mama's hair grey. At least, that's what she'd always said.
He was 16 when he'd fallen in love for the first time and he'd of sworn that pretty little Viola from down the holler with her sparkling blue eyes and bouncy red curls would be his wife one day. He'd just known that he'd love her forever. Forever lasted until he'd seen the gorgeous and tempting Margaret Ruth. At 18 the vivacious raven-haired woman had made him feel like a man when she'd simpered and clung to his arm. He fell hard and quick. Then he'd fallen for Louise from town, then Mary Jean, and then Mary Jean's cousin Ruby.
Oh, he loved pretty girls and they seemed to love him just as much.
Of course, he got into his fair share of trouble when he wasn't chasin' a pretty gal, mostly with too much drinkin' and a love for gamblin' with money he didn't necessarily have. Mama had about pulled his ear off when she found out he'd been arrested that one time outside Meyers bar for fightin'.
Mama had always said that he'd been a little too eager and a lot too reckless for his own good.
He always tried to listen to his Mama.
She'd always warned him to take his time and watch his foot. "Especially in them woods.." she'd grouse in her flour-covered apron, "and especially with yer little sister…"
Little Ethel was shy and quiet and a just two years younger than him and wanted nothing to do with dresses and book learnin. She wanted to play in the dirt and mud and learn to hunt with her brothers. His Mama had tried everything under the sun to quell those tomboy qualities but nothing worked. Mama had thrown her hands up and shooed Ethel out of the house and gave him a look.
"Don't go gettin' her inta trouble," she had sighed and little Ethel had squealed and wrapped her lanky arms around his waist as he rolled his eyes.
The little rat became his shadow, always under his feet. Couldn't go nowhere without trippin' over the curly headed teenager. Not that he'd minded. Ethel was his clumsy little princess with a will of iron.
Emmett adored her.
It was a warm sunny Saturday that he and Ethel went out into the thick line of trees behind the house that changed his life forever.
"Keep those feet quiet," he had whispered to Ethel after an hour in and she'd gotten careless with herself.
She huffed a breath but heeded his words and they'd set out for a day of good hunting. He cast her a grin over his shoulder and rested the gun against his shoulder as they moved around a fallen log and into the dense thick of trees. Moving down a small incline over a few rocks and thick brush he spotted movement just about ten feet in front of them.
His hand gripped the gun as an excited thrum washed through his veins. The anticipation only lasted half a second before he paled. Stark cold fear flooded his stomach as his heart tattooed a quick staccato rhythm against his chest.
Just in front of him was a large black bear raised on his hind legs. Its enormous head turned his way and he backed up a step.
"Ethel, run back home," he whispered and stepped slowly left in front of her. To shield her.
"But-" her voice had been terrified but he couldn't take his eyes off the massive beast in front of him.
Of them.
"Now, Ethel!" he whisper-shouted and let his hand blindly give her a shove.
He heard her sniffle and then her quick footfalls as she ran away and his stomach unclenched slightly. He could hear his blood pound in his ears and his breath almost a labored pant.
The bear roared at it's perceived escaping meal and fell onto all fours. Fear shot threw Emmett like a lance as nausea rolled and curled in the pit of his stomach and with shaking hands he gripped his gun tighter while taking a step back.
He wasn't quick enough as the bear began to move.
He got off one shot that missed wildly while backing up quickly but then the beast swung its claws as he squeezed the trigger a second time without time to aim and for the briefest of moments he thought the animal hadn't gotten him that bad as he fell backward.
For the sweetest of moments, there was no pain.
Then a heavy pressure, a cold sting across bloomed across his sternum. He breathed deeply but couldn't for the life of him take in enough air. The warm liquid seemed to build in his throat and he coughed. He blinked rapidly and his now empty hands searched blindly for something, anything to press against his chest.
Pain.
Sharp, like shards of ice ripping through his skin, tearing him to pieces.
He was in hell.
He screamed.
He cried.
He prayed.
Choking on his own blood as his hands pressed against his chest as all the warmth of him seeped into the forest ground his body trembled as he looked up to the sky through the canopy of trees above him. His vision blurred and he closed his eyes and tried to breathe.
Breathe in.
Breathe out…
…
…..
Breathe i-n….
….
.
…
Breathe ou-t….
..
.
Br-e...
His body quaked uncontrollably as a cold chill settled over him like a thick blanket. And then… a soft brush of cool stone. Firm yet comforting at the same time.
He'd blinked through an encroaching fog and his eyes caught the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.
Golden waves, onyx eyes so dark he was sure they'd cry ink, and the most ethereal and heavenly face he'd ever seen. He coughed. His throat seized and he cried out. His left hand left his chest and with a heavy, sluggish sort of movement he reached out to the angel that had come for him. His bloody hand ended up resting against her heart and he forced his eyes open.
"An-gel.." he choked out the words, blood trailing from his lips and he felt her still.
God had sent an angel to save him…
Her eyes seemed to burn while her face seemed to soften and her hand reached out to touch his face. He shuddered against the cool touch and turned his head into her palm as he took another rattling breath.
"I'm going to save you," her voice announced in the most velvety smooth voice he'd ever heard.
Her arms reached for him and then he was enveloped in ice.
He faded then. In a haze of pain, fear, and acceptance she dreamed of his angel and her soft touch as the cool wind whipped around his body like he was flying.
His angel was taking him to heaven.
Until she stopped.
The wind stopped.
The icy touch left him.
… and he burned.
He burned for what had to have been 100 years. His corpse screamed and thrashed against the flames that sought to consume him. He cried for his Mama, he cried for God to help him and he cried for his angel to save him but nothing happened. He continued to burn.
He burned.
And burned.
And burned and burnedburnedburnedburned….
Until it stopped.
Everything stopped.
The flames. The pain. His heart.
He opened his eyes to a new world that was alien to his old life. His sight, smell, taste, touch… everything was heightened and every sensation seemed amplified to 10.
A noise startled him and he found himself in a low crouch with a snarl ripping from his throat in an instant. He winced when his throat erupted in flames. His eyes widened in shock and panic filled him.
"You're okay," a man's soothing voice that vibrated with calm spoke from his right and he turned his eyes to the blonde man and backed up a step while puffing up his chest. "We mean you no harm," his arms were in front of him in a placating manner.
His eyes frantically took in every corner of the room in half a second and growled at the man when he couldn't find her.
"Where is she?"
He needed her. She saved him.
"Who?" the man asked confused.
"The angel," he snarled and as he finished the word she was there and with her came the scent that clung to her, a spicy tang and the soft sweetness of honey. Her scent rolled over his taste buds and he took a step closer.
"You saved me," he breathed and cringed back onto himself as his throat seared with white-hot flames.
"The word 'save' is debatable," the words were severe coming from such angelic lips.
He paused and scanned the room once again as he thought back to… before hell.
His right hand touched his chest as he remembered the sharp claws that had ripped through him. Confusion rocked through him.
"Am I dead?" he asked and this time he reeled at how different his own voice sounded to his ears. He looked back up to the Angel.
"Kind of," the angel smirked.
"Rosalie," the blonde man chastised and Emmett's attention snapped to him.
The golden-eyed man, just like the angel, was beautiful and beyond pale. He froze where he stood, a thought occurred to him.
"Are you… God?" he whispered the last word but he knew they'd heard him when the angel covered her laugh with a pale slender hand and the man's lips twitched.
"He keeps referring to Rosalie as the 'Angel'," a new voice supplied from his left.
Emmett found himself moving quickly, his body crouched again and a soft continuous growl vibrating through his chest, this time he moved in front of the Angel. A young copper haired boy leaned against the doorjamb and looked to the blonde haired man.
"His name is Emmett," the boy said again.
"Emmett," the angel soothed and placed a soft hand against his shoulder and he turned to face her. "He's not God and I'm not an angel. I found you. You were dying," she paused when he stood upright and tilted her head back to look up at him. "Carlisle," she pointed to the blonde man and looked back to him. "He… saved you, he…." She cut herself off and shot a look to Carlisle.
"We are creatures, Emmett. Vampires. There are others of our kind, most of them will feed from humans," Carlisle spoke to him and almost agonizingly slowly took slow measured steps toward him as if to not set him off.
"We, our family refuse to be the monsters nature wishes us to be. Instead, we survive on the blood of animals."
His mind swam with everything the man… vampire said, his mind automatically snapped to the thought of blood and a groan escaped him as he clutched his throat again as liquid fire seemed to burn the entirety of his esophagus.
"He needs to hunt," the boy said seriously this time.
"Yes, yes-" Carlisle agreed but was cut off by the angel- Rosalie.
"Wait… this is forever," she snapped and his attention focused on her. "You won't age. You won't grow. You'll be this way forever even after the people you knew are long buried and gone."
"Rosalie," Carlisle admonished.
"No, Carlisle. He needs to know what hell this will become," she glared at the man and he sighed in return.
Emmett winced around the burn in his throat but couldn't pull his eyes away from her stern face. Memories of his family flashed before his eyes in a foggy sort of dreamlike way and he felt a sad sort of longing for a family that felt like a memory before his mind shot forward the clearest memory of his human life. Of his broken body sprawled across the dirty forest floor as the pain in his chest had grown beyond words. He remembered her touching his face, of her black eyes glittering into his. He remembered her.
He cleared his throat, winced, and shrugged. "Hell's not so bad if you get to keep an angel with you."
He heard the boy snort and the girl rolled her eyes and shook her head before giving him a small soft look.
His first year was full of blood, restraint and learning a control he didn't think he'd ever conquer and it was a few years later when his eyes were butterscotch and when his new family had settled into a comfortable ease that Rosalie had told him of her past and exactly how she'd become what she was now.
It had taken him three months to come down from his anger. He'd almost decimated the entire black bear population in his rage and only his Rosie's soft eyes and firm voice pulled him back from a road he might have traveled. Edward had told him of his own 'rebellious' phase and Emmett was sorely tempted to pick up where he left off.
It was after that the burn in his throat became almost effortless to manage. After the near-constant anger and sadness that seemed to burn in his chest at what had happened to his Rosie, controlling his thirst was almost easy.
It was two years and 15 days later that a reluctant friendship changed to something else. Something better.
He'd come into the living room and sat heavily down on the couch and poked her thigh with his toe.
"Hey Angel," he drawled.
"Demon," she'd responded with a pale arched brow as she flipped another page of her book.
"You wound me," he had pouted.
"Not enough apparently," she drawled haughtily but he could see the mirth in her eyes as she tried to remain focused on the words.
"Aw, come on Rosie-" he needled and poked her again.
"Don't call me that," she snapped.
"Okay, Rosie Posie," he singsonged and laughed when she tossed her hair over her shoulder.
"Ugh, you're such a child."
"But you love me," he waggled his brows and leaned forward a bit.
She closed her book and laid it in her lap and glared at him playfully. "What do you want Emmett?"
"I wanna go out," he responded immediately.
"Then go."
"Carlisle doesn't think I'm up for solo outings."
She rolled her pretty amber eyes. "So I'm your babysitter?"
"Let's not put labels on it, okay?" he joked and leaned his chin against his palm.
"You are helpless," she told him with a hint of humor lacing her words.
"But you'll always help me," he fluttered his lashes dramatically at her.
He hid his laughter as he watched his angel try to mask her own and gave her another light nudge. Grinning slightly she huffed and pursed her lips.
"Where are we going?" she sighed
"I want to go to the beach."
She looked at him like he was insane before she gave him a shove and shouted off a quick, 'I'll race ya!' before she took off out the door. Emmett smirked to himself, thanked God for sending him such a spitfire, and took off after her.
Trees, buildings, rivers, and mountains blurred passed them and seemed to melt into wet painting. The colors ran together in a beautiful canvas as he watched her run next to him. All bright and pale she was a north star shining against a multicolored sky and she was beautiful.
She shot him a grin, her mauve lips stretched across her white teeth before she stuck her tongue out at him and took off quicker than even he could go.
He'd thrown his head back and laughed as he ran after her, skidding to a stop to stand next to her on the white shore.
They'd stood next to each other for a while. Not moving. Not breathing. Just existing in the same space.
His dead heart panged as he looked at her. How lucky must he be to have his own personal angel save him from the brink of death and stay with him every day after that?
He loved her.
He loved everything about her.
He loved how fiercely protective she was of those she loved. He loved how passionate she was every facet of her existence. He loved Her smile just as much as he loved her glare. He loved the moments when she would drop that wall around her and laugh with him. When she trusted him.
God, he loved her.
They'd danced around each other for a few years now. That unspoken 'thing' between them felt warm, enticing and so very passionate. He knew what it was. He knew what he felt. He knew what she felt. But his angel would control this. He wanted her to come to him, want him… love him and choose it for herself.
A smile stretched across his face and with a chuckle he kicked his shoes off. He watched her playfully sneer at him.
"What are you doing?"
"I want to dance with my angel," he smirked and moved closer to her.
She rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the smile from lighting her face. "Barefoot?"
He nodded his head and took another step closer and paused an inch away from her before giving a glance at her feet.
She huffed a laugh and slipped out of her shoes. Not sparing a moment he grasped her hand and put an arm around her waist and they began to move. He hummed lightly as he spun her around and watched all pretenses fall away from her face and she began to smile in earnest.
"This is crazy," she laughed and gasped when he moved them a step closer to the shore and they were now waltzing through the receding waves along the wet sand.
"This is wonderful," he corrected as he spun them again before he pressed her closer to his chest and inhaled her scent.
He danced with his angel for eternity on that beach. A second, a minute, infinity… it all seemed to crash together as he looked at her face and he just knew that there was no other love for him. This was it. She was it. He would love Rosalie until he stopped existing and even after.
"I dreamed of you," she whispered suddenly and his eyes trailed from her mouth to her eyes and back again. "Before I became this… I wanted this… I wanted you. I dreamed of marriage and kids and sitting on a porch swing old and grey and watching our grandchildren…." she trailed off emotion tight in her throat.
Emmett swallowed thickly as he pictured it. A little blonde eyed baby girl, Rose heavily pregnant and laughing so sweetly, teaching their boy to hunt, walking their daughter down the aisle, drifting away together when they were old and ready to meet in heaven…
He blinked away the venom in his eyes and clutched her tighter to him.
He wished…
He shook his head.
"I'll take whatever life I can get with you. 5 minutes, 5 years, or 5 lifetimes… If you're there, it's enough," he whispered as they slowed to a stop.
"Emmett, I…" she trailed off and he could see the pain shining in her eyes like liquid honey.
His chest clenched and he rubbed soothing circles along the base of her spine. "Whatever you give me will be enough," he said and meant it.
She was an angel, his angel, and weather she gave him her friendship, her hand or something in between it didn't matter.
Her eyes shined in the moonlight and her hands moved to press against his chest.
A pleasant thrum went through his body and his entire being warmed when her hands moved from his chest, up and to the back of his head where she tugged gently and pressed herself against him. If he were still human he would have lost his breath at the gentle way she brushed her lips across the corner of his mouth.
With soft touches like butterfly wings, she blessed him with her mouth and curved her body against him so tightly… He shuddered and his eyes fell closed against the torrent of pure bliss that crashed over him. His hands shook as he pulled her even closer and he took in a shaky breath that he didn't need.
This was heaven, no matter what Rosie said, this was heaven.
Until the end of time, he would remember his angel and how she looked when they danced along the shore until the sun came up, her skin sparkling like a million dancing fireflies over her skin.
Time moved quickly then. Days full of long walks in the mountains, slow dancing on rooftops, and just lying on the dock out from the house hand in hand as they told each other their dreams.
He'd been alive for 20 years and… something else for six more and for all that time nothing in his entire existence compared to this moment.
His beautiful golden-eyed angel drew closer with slow graceful steps that almost convinced him she was actually heaven-sent. Her blonde hair curled around her pale face like waves of silk around the statue of a goddess. Her eyes bright butterscotch surrounded by thick lashes that brushed her cheek as she looked down briefly before she smiled. God, her smile. Her rosy lips pulled up at the corner and he could almost feel the phantom beat of his heart pounding against his chest as joy and anticipation swelled within him.
He took an unneeded breath and grinned widely at the picture before him. An Elysium of porcelain skin and honey eyes and the promise of forever, it was utter perfection.
She was perfection.
She walked toward him and grasped his hand before they exchanged their vows before their family.
She'd promised to be his and he'd sworn to be hers underneath an orange sky and a canopy of weeping willows.
Carlisle had shaken his hand, Edward had smirked and nodded and when Esme had kissed his cheeks and for a moment he could see his own mother in her face and he gripped her a little tighter.
In the comfort of the cabin he'd made her the Kentucky hills he carried her over the threshold and she laughed and gripped his arms.
"Husband," she breathed with a smile and her eyes roved over his face.
His cheeks dimpled as pure bliss seemed to radiate from the center of his chest outward over his whole body. "Wife," he grinned and swung her around eliciting a happy squeal from her.
He set her down and her fingers automatically came to rest on his chest.
"I love you," she whispered and he'd opened his mouth to reply the same when her mouth caught his.
Her lips moved against his in a slow entrancing sort of dance. Her lips tasted like spice and honey and he eagerly opened his lips to breathe her in.
She'd sighed his name.
Her hands fisted his shirt and
He let her pull him to the bedroom and let her nimble fingers work the buttons of his shirt as he stared at her, unsure how he'd gotten so lucky to have been saved by this angel.
Fierce.
Protective.
Soft.
He thread his fingers through her hair and tilted her head back to look in her eyes.
He knew this was an important moment for her, knew how much it had meant to her before…
"Do you want this?" he asked his voice husky with his own desire.
Rosalie smiled softly and placed her hand over his. "Yes," she nodded before he leaned down to kiss her. To show her how much she meant to him. To show her how much he loved her.
Her body was holy ground and it almost seemed blasphemous to touch her.
His angel.
His wife.
With aching tenderness, he'd shown her that a man's touch could be gentle in passion. That his hands could hold her, cradle her and caress her. That he could kiss her with a soft sort of worship without anger or possession.
She'd accepted him with trembling porcelain thighs and sweet prayers of God and his name on her lips as she gave herself to him in equal fervor and love that made him want to cry. She'd cried tearlessly and stroked his face as she peppered his cheeks and eyelids with kisses as she told him how much she loved him and he'd never felt that kind of devotion before.
This was his life.
A life full of love and kindness and a new family that would always be there for him.
An eternity in heaven wasn't so bad.
/N: Un-beta'ed. Mistakes are mine. Please overlook them. :-) Just wanted to dip my toe back in to writing so...