Non-canon - these vampires a slightly different. They can sleep. The can cry - but instead of tears, they cry blood. Slash implied. It may go down that route, but I'm not sure yet of the direction I'm going to take it. (as a result - genre and rating may change.)

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I write only for a bit of fun.


The scent had been strong. It drew him in. A smell he had known, and one he hasn't smelt it in over two hundred years. It lingered strong in the air and upon the meager furnishings of the room, but still he couldn't bring himself to believe what his nose told him to be true: his friend, his old friend Carlisle Cullen, living in a room he himself would describe as a hovel.

Slowly and silently Eleazar stepped off the metal staircase and entered the room through its only window, that he had found ajar.

His red eyes darted about as they scanned the room. From the far end of the room that held a small kitchen area, to the centre that housed a small table and a single chair: it's material torn and tattered with age, to the end he now stood, next to the bed whose cream coloured sheets lay crumpled and askew across the unmade mattress. Along the walls were stacks of books, so many it was near impossible to see the wall behind, while the wooden floor was home to nothing, not even a spot of dust.

*V*

The time past slowly, or so it seemed. Since it happened, since she . . . no he wasn't going to remember that. But since it did happen, time was no longer his friend, and it dragged its way along until he heard the old familiar sound of the light foot on the bottom step.

He waited until the keys, jangling slightly, were turned in the lock and the door opened to reveal Carlisle. His pale hand running through his soft blond hair, shaking off the excess rain water. His face was lit by a radiant smile as he took in the image of his friend, who sat in the rooms' sole chair with a book in his hand.

"Eleazar!" cried Carlisle. "My old friend," he rushed towards the man and greeted him with a heart felt embrace. "This is such a surprise. I caught your scent downstairs, but I shrugged it off. Thought it someone in the building with a new pig for a pet," he joked.

Eleazar gripped hold of Carlisle's face and peered at the man, "You're still telling the same old jokes, I see," he gently shook Carlisle's head before he patted the latter on the cheek and returned to his chair. "It's great to see you again. And so healthy looking too."

"And you," replied Carlisle. "You've . . ." he used his two fingers and pointed to his own eyes, "You've returned to your previous diet."

"Yes," interrupted Eleazar. "I saw no point, not after . . . not after," his sentence was lost as he cast his eyes downwards and back to the book he still held.

"I heard. I'm so very sorry. Carmen was such a beautiful person."

Eleazar held his hand up. His eyes sought Carlisle's and they seemed to beg him not to continue. "We shall talk about it, my friend. But not today. I don't think I can handle it today. I want to hear all about your adventures in this new world? Pray tell, what have you been doing since you left us in Volterra?"

Retreating to the kitchen Carlisle removed two glass tumblers from the top most press, placing them down with a clink on the counter top before removing from the next press a large bottle.

Pouring the two glasses full, he handed one to Eleazar who took it with a curious air. The red liquid swished about as Eleazar sniffed it.

He looked up, like a child on Christmas morning, at Carlisle who simply nodded his head.

"Blood? In a bottle? This really is a new world!"

Carlisle couldn't suppress his smile, "Not the new world, actually, but the old one." He handed Eleazar the bottle, he read aloud easily the foriegn writing on the label.

SNAKE BLOOD VODKA

"A delicacy in Japan," said Carlisle, "Although I think they drink it as shots, and not by the bottle as I have often done," he added with a smirk as he took a seat on the floor, in front of his guest.

Knocking his head back, Eleazar drank it in one. Looking at it amazed he turned his gaze towards his companion, "And it doesn't create a feeding frenzy. That's remarkable."

Twisting the lid off the bottle, Carlisle filled both glasses up again for the third time. "I think it's a counter-action from the vodka. Though, that is just a theory. Nothing proved just yet."

"And you get drunk from it? As humans do from alcohol?"

"I've been know to get the spins. Occasionally. When I've had a little too much."

"And this is what you've been doing with your time?"

Carlisle shied away from the other man's gaze. "I did say occasionally." He rose from the floor and picked up some large books from next to the bed. "This is what I do with my time," he said as he handed the books over.

Three medical volumes now sat in Eleazar's lap and the man leafed idly through them. "Ah yes! You always did want to help them, didn't you. We used to laugh," he caught himself before he continued, but the other man didn't seem to mind, or care.

"Yes. I know you did," he answered matter-of-factly. "Like I laughed at Demetri's attempts to be an artist. Or Aro's attempt to write the full history of the world. Each have their own quirks, I suppose."

Eleazar laughed at the reminder of Demetri's artist phase, so much that blood spurted from his nose. "Do you remember that?" he asked without reason too, "He was months working on it. Then Heidi made that big fuss about having an exhibition. The big reveal," he made a jazz hand gesture. "And it was woeful, truly woeful. I mean, murder on a canvas woeful."

Carlisle laughed until he cried. "He took such offence, he didn't speak to anyone for two years."

"Luckily for art, he packed up his easel after that."

"You're making it worse, each time you talk," Carlisle laughed harder.

Both men fell about themselves until their laughter began to subside.

After a few minutes of silence Carlisle spoke, "And has Aro finished his book yet?"

Eleazar chuckled. "Don't, my friend."

"It's not a joke, I'm curious," Carlisle offered him a crooked smile.

"Lets just say, when I left, he was still sharpening his pencils."

Carlisle burst into a snicker. "See, each have our own quirks," he echoed his earlier words.

*V*

The night past in talks of the nothing and everything. But always about the past, and never the future, as if both men didn't think it counted for much.

"Mmmm . . ." Eleazar mumbled as he slid his way out of the chair and onto the floor, lying next to Carlisle and placing his head in the nook of the other mans arm. "I see what you meant by 'the spins'."

"It's strong stuff, isn't it," slurred Carlisle as he half drifted in and out of consciousness.

"We did drink seven large bottles, each," replied Eleazar.

"My supply for rest of the year, that was," Carlisle mumbled. "Or perhaps the month, time is something that is beyond me right now," he joked.

His tone turned serious as he turned to Eleazar, pulling the man slightly closer as he did.

"Why didn't you return? To the Volturi. After Carman, I mean?"

He felt his guest shrug, but heard not even a whisper of reply.

After a few minutes in which all that could be heard was the sounds from the traffic in the street below, Eleazar spoke.

"I was ashamed."

Carlisle awoke fully, "Ashamed?"

"She was my mate. I wasn't there. I should have protected her." He stopped as if to gather his thoughts. "They would say it was the diet. I was weakened by it, I should never have allowed her to talk me into it. Even if Master Aro told them to keep it to themselves for fear of angering me, or upsetting me, I know that's what they'd be thinking. And I don't want their whispers. Their stopping as I enter a room."

"They're your friends. They wouldn't."

"They would," cut in Eleazar. "Besides, my past with Renata, with Felix. It would be too awkward to go back. You've no idea what it's like, Carlisle: the love for a mate. You can never go back to past relationships and have them feel the same. Not now you know what real love is.

No. I'm to wander alone from now on. A return to being nomad," he noted sadly.

"You don't have to be alone."

"Stay here, you mean?"

"Yes. I'm alone too. We can be alone together."

"I'm afraid I won't be returning to the diet, my friend," he added darkly. "Besides, your mate is still out there. You will find her or him, in time. And I would only be in the way."

"You're my friend, you could never be in the way," Carlisle assured him as he nuzzled him in closer until sleep took them both.


I'm really not sure what way to take this, I'm open for suggestions?