Title: Our Distance and That Person
Author: Lucidscreamer
Set of 4 drabbles (100 words each)
Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga is the creation of Stephenie Meyer.
Our Distance and That Person
Half of Forks High is crowding the ER and Carlisle's heart is breaking. His life's gone to hell because of an icy pavement, a speeding van, a girl - and Edward, waiting for Alice because she'd asked him for a ride. (Of course, she'd Seen. She'd known.) Edward had stopped the van from crushing the girl. Then, he'd run.
"I have to get away, Carlisle." Even over the phone, Edward's anguish is palpable. "Her scent, her blood. She's always there, and Alice keeps pushing."
"Don't go..." (He can smell them: Bella, Alice.)
"I have to."
Hanging up feels like dying.
-o-
Bella Swan is sitting on the examination table, and it's taking more control than Carlisle has needed in over three centuries not to rip out her throat, because this girl (this harmless-looking human girl) is the reason Edward has fled - their home, the town, the state.
Carlisle's world has tipped off-kilter and won't be right again until his Edward returns. Or Carlisle runs to join him. Honestly, it's a toss-up which will break first: Carlisle's sense of obligation or his need to race to his mate's side.
Watching him, Bella's eyes are filled with speculation. Looking back, his are cold.
-o-
Unrepentant, Alice awaits him in his office. "I couldn't let her die."
You could have. His eyes filled with accusation, Carlisle remains silent. You wanted this to happen.
"He had to save her." Her chin lifts, golden eyes defiant. Smug.
His mind races - sorting schedules, planning routes, fabricating excuses for the hospital as he tosses his labcoat aside.
"You're going to Alaska?" She's gaping, aghast.
Didn't see that one coming, Alice? He turns his back on her, literally and figuratively. Despite his anger, part of him mourns. He's enjoyed his larger family, but he won't let it cost him Edward.
-o-
Edward's sitting downwind, and he's so distracted by his own misery that he doesn't realize anyone else is there until strong arms wrap around him and pull him against a familiar chest. And then he is surrounded by his mate's scent, and arms, and thoughts - even if those thoughts seem to consist entirely of Eward, Edward, Edward.
"Carlisle." Edward breathes the name against his mate's neck and buries his nose in the scent of home.
Carlisle's arms tighten around him. They tumble to the snow, lost in the touch, taste, feel of each other. Together, safe in their own world.
