Hello there! It's been forever, but I'm determined to find my mojo and return to my WIPs, particularly The Fence.
To jumpstart my motivation, I've decided to finish and post a requested continuation of my o/s Happenstance. This will be a short little piece, around 4 chapters depending on how I break it up. The rough draft is pretty much finished, so no worries about this not being completed in a timely manner! I'll be posting once a week from here on out. As always, I promise nothing in terms of storyline, so PM if you have concerns!
Circumstance 1
The idea took shape long before the light finally left her eyes, but it was only a few months ago that I informed my family and began making plans. They know of my pain, and even if Alice hadn't given them warning, the announcement would've come as no great surprise.
After all, how could more be expected of me than they, themselves, would be able to bear?
Marcus of the Volturi is the only of us known to have survived for any significant time after the loss of a mate, although his existence is hardly more than just that: one of bare survival. Without Chelsea's powerful gift tying him to the Brotherhood, he would have followed Didyme in death centuries ago.
I have never met him, and for this, I am thankful beyond words. Knowing my own devastating anguish after a mere twenty years, I cannot fathom the magnitude of despair that must ravage his mind. Although, it is possible I would find his mental voice to be muted. Carlisle says the man is not much more than an animated body, an empty shell whose soul had departed the mortal realm along with Didyme's.
Perhaps his sanity is gone as well.
I can see how easy it would be to lose myself to the pain and descend to an unreachable depth. The love I have for my family is strong, but it is only a flickering spark of warmth in the infinite cold void of an existence without my mate. I appreciate their devotion, but it cannot save me.
I don't want to be saved.
She told me that we were destined to be together; she promised that we would meet again. I believe her with all my soul, but I've never understood how we are supposed to meet. She said that I would go on, but I feel myself a step closer to Marcus with each setting sun. Surely my path to her is not meant to parallel his. With no visible road signs to guide me in this life, my only conclusion is that I must join her in the next.
And that is what I intend to do.
There was never really a question as to whom I would ask, even though they all were willing. Not only had Carlisle been the one to bring me into this world, he is also my oldest and closest companion: a father, a brother, a mentor, friend, and confidant. Though he can't read my thoughts as clearly as I hear his, no one else knows me better, or ever did—not even her. She and I shared only a few fleeting months together, whereas my relationship with Carlisle has spanned a century.
Each family member reacted a different way to my decision. When I finally lifted my eyes from the dining room table's surface after delivering the solemn news, I first looked to Alice and Jasper. Through their individual gifts, they'd already known why I called the family together.
Alice, of course, had experienced my revelation in her visions and could see that my future had a defined end. And while she was unable view my final hours on earth, it was enough that she couldn't find me afterward. Her devastated thoughts told me that she had accepted the inevitability. Yet even until the moment Carlisle's Mercedes took us past the distance I was able to hear her, she flipped through various decisions in her mind, trying to find an outcome in which I remained with the family.
Jasper, my complement in mental ability, had gathered my intent from the determination and hope overpowering my emotional state. He can feel when a person reaches a limit; mine had been exceeded for some time. And, although he wasn't quite able to hide his unbidden twinge of relief amidst his sorrow, I bear him no ill will. I tried to keep my distance from him as much as possible over the years, but he'd still been subject to the full force of my despair for far too long. In a way, I am doing him almost as much a service as looking after my own interests by ending this waking nightmare.
Rosalie took the news almost as stoically as Alice and Jasper—at least on the outside. Her mind, however, worked at a feverish pace as she sought to assimilate the information. Our entire history began to replay in her mind, and I had been surprised to read her regretful thoughts regarding our somewhat cool relationship. She gave me a small, sad smile as she silently transmitted her hopes that I would find peace at last.
Emmett needed the most time to accept my words at face value. Initially, he'd been certain that I was just going through a "mood" and would soon come out of it. It became his mission to point out every single positive aspect of life I'd be missing out on, should I continue with the "idiotic plan to off yourself like some kind of demented vampire Romeo." The truth of my conviction finally settled in two days later, after the majority of my affairs were put in order. Emmett came storming into my room with the neatly packed box of video games I had left on his and Rosalie's bed. He proceeded to hurl them, one by one, while screaming out colorful descriptions of my apparent lack of sense. He then flung me through the glass of my window and continued pummeling my body with any moveable object he could find. Knowing how much he needed the release, I didn't put up a fight. Rosalie finally stopped his assault when he started toward the Vanquish I had bequeathed to her.
I was glad she intervened, for it really is a fine piece of automotive engineering.
Esme's distraught expression was the most difficult to see, but I forced myself to meet her venom-wet eyes. I consider her my mother as much as the one who birthed me—in some ways, perhaps more so—and she deserved the opportunity to confirm that I did not take my decision lightly. She deserved to know that the repercussions of my actions would weigh on me until the very last moment, and I would accept responsibility for that. But despite the staggering heartache I am causing her, Esme also understands better than anyone else what it is like to suffer such a soul-shattering loss. Yes, she will always be grateful to have received a second chance at life and love, but there is a tiny, secret part of her that forever grieves for the infant son she'd been kept from joining.
Carlisle, ever sensitive to his family's needs, had tightened his arms around his wife as if the force of his love could somehow shield her from all hurt—past, present, and future. To me, he gave a single, simple nod before closing his eyes. But, as from the very beginning of our friendship, his mind remained open and free to my perusal. The thoughts I found there reminded me of those belonging to a parent whose grown child was heading to war. Worry, fear, sadness, loss, even a little anger and guilt—they were certainly present, but what held sway over them all was a feeling of respect concerning my decision and unconditional, never-ending, all-encompassing love.
It's that fatherly devotion that sustains him now as each mile brings us closer to my death. At a glance, he appears calm, and even his thoughts proceed in a serene, well-mannered order. But I can see the unconscious tells that reveal his true state. Fingers that clutch the wheel just a little too tightly, an occasional twitch of his jaw, dark and shadowed eyes despite a recent hunt.
There's little conversation in the car, just the quiet harmonies of my favorite orchestral pieces. We never needed many words, Carlisle and I, and his unassuming presence is the best balm for my rather jumbled mind. It's a disconcerting mix of dread and anticipation that I feel, and my nerves are on edge. In fact, when a shrill ringing pierces the stillness, I start a little in my seat.
Carlisle eyes me in concern as he pulls out his phone. An unchecked hope flashes through his mind that Alice might be calling with a last minute intervention. I grimace at the thought, but when he reads the name on the screen, my frown becomes a barely contained sigh.
It's worse than I thought.
It's Sophie.
The corner of Carlisle's mouth twitches upward as he opens the call through his car's speaker system. I, however, find nothing amusing about the situation. The only thing I can do is brace myself for the onslaught to follow.
Sure enough, she begins unloading on me the second we're connected.
"So, how's the death march proceeding?" she spits out angrily. "Is your moronic son still planning to go through with this insanity?"
"Hello to you, too, Sophie," Carlisle chuckles. "How are you today?"
"I'm just great, thanks for asking. Had the usual kind of morning—woke up and got dressed, ate breakfast, checked email, stopped by my husband's grave to change out the flowers, consoled Tess as she missed her daddy, tried to explain why her godfather is having himself killed…you know, just normal everyday stuff…"
"Oh, don't be ridiculous," I snap out in exasperation. "Tess is a cat. I assure you she does not recognize me as her godfather, nor is she capable of understanding what is about to happen."
"How the hell do you know? You can't read animals' minds."
"That's because they have no conscious thoughts in their minds to read!"
I can't believe I'm arguing with her about this, but the woman has the tendency to bring out the teenager in me when we bicker.
"Well maybe you're just too stupid to understand them!" she retorts, not missing a beat. "After all, a person who thinks he's fulfilling some sort of strange soulmate destiny by taking himself out in a literal blaze of glory is obviously a few pancakes short of a stack!"
As usual, her words further fan the flames of my ire. "First off, I'm not a person, I'm a vampire, and you have no idea what it's like to lose a mate. Don't you dare lecture me on a subject about which you know nothing!"
"I know that Grams never would have wanted you to kill yourself!" she yells back. "You're just a weak, selfish c-coward." Her voice breaks as she chokes on a sob. "What about the ones you're leaving behind? What about your family? What about your friends? What about…me?" She sniffles quietly. "Daniel's gone, and now you're leaving me too?"
"Oh, Sophie," I murmur sadly, my fury deflated by her pained words. "He was a wonderful man, and you know how sorry I am for the loss of your husband. But my mind is made up. Maybe it is selfish of me to do this, but how is it any less selfish of you to ask me to face an eternity of loneliness? It's too much for me to bear. I've tried, but I can't do it; it's just too much."
Carlisle places a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. I welcome his unending devotion.
Sophie doesn't speak for several moments.
"I know," she says at last, defeated. "It's just so hard to come to terms with this. You've become one of my closest friends, and I'm going to miss you so much. I'm not ready to say goodbye."
I remain silent, knowing there's nothing I could possibly add to make this easier. Sophie sniffles a few more times and then takes a deep breath.
"Oh god...I guess this is it, then. Uh, we pretty much covered everything in our talk last night, but I just...I want to tell you one last time how grateful I am for your friendship, your love, and your support, especially during some of the hardest periods of my life. While I might not have a perfect memory, I'll never forget you, Edward Cullen. S-say hi to Grams and Daniel for me if…when…you see them again. I love you."
She finishes in a whisper and hangs up before I can even think of responding. The guilt I feel is overwhelming, and my shoulders drop under the weight of it. Carlisle's fingers tighten to remind me of his presence. He wishes he could take on my burdens—and Sophie's—as his own but has to settle for reassurance, instead.
We'll get her through this, he says to me in his mind. She won't be alone.
No, Bella's granddaughter would never be alone. My family will look after her welfare until she draws her last breath.
Even before the link between us had been discovered, the spirited woman gained my friendship during a shared college class, despite my best efforts to prevent it. I had no desire to become close with another human on any level after Bella, but Sophie's charm and persistence were all but impossible to resist. Like her grandmother, she felt completely at ease in the presence of the supernatural and showed herself to be far too perceptive. At least with her, however, I could read her thoughts and verify that she could be trusted to keep our secret. In the two decades since we first met, Sophie has become an honorary Cullen, and each of us has grown to love her dearly.
Leaving her behind will be nearly as difficult as saying goodbye to my family, with the small comfort of knowing she has only a finite period of time to grieve. I wouldn't quite label it cowardice as she did, but it does not escape my notice that by choosing to meet death now, I will be spared the heartache of losing anyone else.
The rest of our trip goes without interruption, and I spend the time immersed in the too-few memories I have of Bella. It's an automatic process now, this escape from reality to a place and time where we are not parted. As the years have slipped by, I've been living more within each recalled moment than in the tangible world around me, and it is physically painful to leave the sanctuary of my memories. Carlisle has to shake my shoulder to catch my attention when I miss his mental and verbal alerts concerning our location.
The skyscrapers of Chicago loom tall on the horizon, and my chest tightens. While it looks vastly different than the city in which I grew up, I've returned many times since 1918. The changed landscape signals "home" to me as much now as it did then. I feel a sense of comfort, of completion, in knowing that my life will end where it began.
We continue past the heart of the city and exit the highway on the way to our destination in Lincoln Park. I'd renovated the interior of my parents' residence several times to keep it updated for tenants, but on the outside, the stunning three-story home is much the same as when I was a child. Carlisle and Esme are now the official owners, and I hope they get more use out of it than I did. City living is not easy for someone with a gift such as mine.
A large garage is one addition I did make to the building. Though the sky is overcast and we are in no danger of exposing ourselves, Carlisle pulls inside to park. A curious sensation that almost feels like a stomachache grows in my abdomen, and I examine my feelings to see if I am having second thoughts about what is to come.
No.
No second thoughts.
I think it's…eagerness.
Eagerness and the anticipation of relief.
"Let's go," I murmur, my voice purposefully devoid of emotion despite the impatience building in me. No need to make this any more difficult for Carlisle than necessary.
I step out of the vehicle and wait for him to open the door to the house with his key. He doesn't move from where he's standing, however, but instead looks down the driveway into the street.
"Perhaps you'd like to take a walk around Lincoln Park or visit downtown before heading inside?" he asks quietly.
I hear the plea in his thoughts and hold back a sigh. He's never requested much from me; giving him an hour or two is the least I can do.
"Yes, of course. How about we go to Millennium Park? I've read that it's quite nice."
"Yes, that's a wonderful idea!" Carlisle breathes, enthused by the temporary reprieve. "I'd like to see it myself."
It's rather mild for a late winter afternoon, but walking outside without some sort of protective outerwear would look strange. Carlisle reaches into the car and then hands me his coat. Already wearing a sweater, he dons a light jacket, and we exit the garage.
Rush hour is just beginning, but most people are heading away from downtown, not going toward it. We walk the few blocks west to the 'L' station and stand at the back of the platform to wait for a train. Carlisle entertains me with memories about his experiences with earlier forms of transportation.
One of the biggest difficulties about being a vampire doctor before the turn of the twentieth century was dealing with the horses, he recalls with amusement. In larger cities, most of them were used to all sorts of stimuli and ignored my presence. But in smaller, rural towns, they tended to be more wary of predators. I frequently had a reputation as being a terrible horseman, since the beasts either tried to run away when I approached or lashed out in an attempt to trample me. I rejoiced to the heavens when the automobile became an affordable commodity for the general public.
I chuckle at the wry tone of his thoughts as we board a train on the Brown Line.
"Hmm, I must have missed the chapter on horse-vampire interactions in Black Beauty," I quip under my breath.
Carlisle smirks.
Ah, that's because Aro got a hold of an advance copy and threatened the poor creature with sending me over for dinner if it wasn't edited out.
I'm unable to stop the bark of laughter that erupts from my throat, causing a few nearby passengers to glance in my direction. Carlisle throws an elbow into my side and makes a tsking noise.
Honestly, Edward, you should know better than to call attention to yourself in such a manner. Who was your mentor? He must have been a second-rate hack.
We both laugh at that, having little concern over who might be looking our way. As our mirth fades naturally away, Carlisle lifts a hand to my shoulder and touches his forehead to my temple. He sighs.
Thank you for these extra moments, my dear son. I will cherish them always, along with all the rest I have been blessed to have with you.
I lean into him in acknowledgement, and we pass most of the ride in this quiet, reflective manner.
The background noise in the train car remains a steady din until we near the Loop, the heart of the Chicago business district. People begin to stand and move closer to the door in preparation to disembark.
"Would you like to exit now and walk the extra distance?" Carlisle asks, considerate of my tolerance to being in an enclosed space with so many humans.
"I'm fine," I reply, waving off his concern. "It doesn't bother me."
While I haven't spent much time in public recently, my thirst isn't challenged in the least. After conquering my need around the most tempting blood of them all, no other human has caused me to think twice about straying from my diet of animal nourishment.
Bella had been very apologetic when she learned of my true nature, and even more so after I explained her blood's unique call to me. I found it both touching and amusing that she tried so hard to lessen her appeal—as if such a thing were even possible. Wearing as much clothing as possible in an effort to contain her scent was a commendable idea, and it took a good deal of control not to laugh at her embarrassed pout when I told her that extra layers increased her body temperature, which in turn magnified the potency of her delicious aroma. Of course, then she took to exposing as much skin as possible, and this brought about difficulties for me of an entirely different sort.
"Ours is the next stop," Carlisle says, seeing that I am yet again lost to my memories.
I nod absent-mindedly, loath to relegate my beloved Bella to a less prominent part of my thoughts. She never leaves them entirely, thanks to the expanded mental capacity afforded to beings like myself. And when I concentrate hard enough, I can almost see her in front of me. I can practically hear the dulcet tones of her voice, feel her silky skin...breathe in her heavenly scent…
My entire body freezes to stone as my nose detects a trace of the very thing for which I've been longing.
I know it's not possible—I know this—and yet…
"What is it?" Carlisle asks in alarm, his eyes darting around the car, looking for the cause of my shocked expression. "What's wrong?"
I suck in a lungful of air, desperately searching for confirmation that I wasn't imagining things. It's entirely plausible that I've spent so much time in the past that I can no longer distinguish between memory and reality, yet it seemed so real to me.
But…it's gone. The scent is no longer there.
"No."
I barely recognized the whispered cry as my own.
"Are you okay? Edward, son, what's going on?" Carlisle grabs my arm to anchor me to him as the car fills up with passengers.
I don't spare him a thought, all my faculties strained to the utmost in a frenzied attempt to find that scent again. Odors swirl around me from the moving people and the breeze off the train's platform. Sweat, perfume, baked goods, leather, rusted metal…
…her?
My head snaps higher as I catch it again, the faintest trace of the familiar. I don't know what, how, or why, but none of that matters now. The only thing that matters is to find it.
But where?
Eyes closed, nose in the air, I taste the air…searching…straining…
There!
It's not on this train; the scent is coming from somewhere outside.
Without a single conscious thought, my body pushes past the others, out of the 'L' car, and away from Carlisle.
His frantic mental calls barely register as the doors hiss shut and the train pulls away.