This story is definitely out of character with Stephenie Meyer's series. If you don't like OOC things, then please don't read or leave me a rude comment about it. Thank you.

Disclaimer - I don't own the Twilight Saga. No copyright infringement is intended with the making of this one-shot.

Renee Swan's heart leaped into her throat the moment she opened the door. Her first instinct was to slam it closed, but he was too fast for her. He would force his way in and then what would she do? He would take her daughter away, just like he'd always threatened. She did close the door so that her body blocked his view of the hallway behind her, keeping her daughter out of sight. He'd already seen her, of course. She'd opened that door wide as it went, always expecting a friendly neighbor or a kind mailman when answering a door in Forks, Washington. She should have been expecting him, she scolded herself. He knew everything. Especially when Bella was sick.

"Renee," he said flatly. His voice was always hard, emotionless. Until he laid eyes on her daughter – then he was a warm, gentle man who'd never done anything wrong. His eyes were black as coal as he stared her down. Of course he was not happy. Why would he be? She'd disobeyed on of his rules. He glared down at her, sending shivers up her spine. His body language always scared her – she never knew what he was thinking or doing. Right then, he was standing with his weight balanced evenly on both legs, arms crossed over his chest. His pale, marble skin wasn't even wet from the falling rain.

Put on a brave face, she ordered herself, plastering on her kindest smile. She cocked her head to the side, pretending to be shocked yet delighted at his visit. She couldn't let him know she feared him. He had to already know – because how did one not fear him? – but she couldn't just let him know. She wouldn't let him know she'd done anything wrong, broke any of his rules. "Oh, hello, Edward," she breathed out, hoping the lightness in her voice would keep the shaking, nervous note out of it. "I wasn't expecting you."

"That's funny," Edward snapped, his lip lifting as he momentarily bared his teeth at her. "I was expecting you."

Renee blinked. Keep up the pretenses. Don't falter. He's testing you. Remember that. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean."

His hand came down on the doorframe with a loud smack, the force of it splintering the wood, creating a dent in the wood. Renee jumped, and closed her eyes. Faking was useless. He already knew everything. "I think you do, Renee," he snarled in her face. "I think you do."

"I'm sorry, Edward, but I really don't," she insisted anxiously. His hand was half a second away from strangling her, or crushing in her skull, and she knew it.

Edward leaned in menacingly, tilting his head to the side. His breath fanned over her face as he whispered, "How easily you humans forget things."

She leaned back, racking her brain for anything about this evil creature that she may have forgotten. She shook her head, flustered. Knowing her life was in danger kept her from thinking clearly, as it would any other person. "I-I don't –"

"Have you forgotten," he continued, straightening to his full height so he towered over her, "that I can read minds? Or are you simply that careless with your thoughts?"

She said nothing.

"Or perhaps," he said, a little louder now, "you've forgotten that when I am not in Forks, I am still in Forks." Oh, yes. He had his minions, his helpers, his . . . slaves. She hadn't forgotten that. Of course they would be how he would know to come back. The poor, threatened humans he'd prayed on payed close attention to the Swan household, especially when Edward was out of the country. The whole town knew of his vampirism. Thus, their fear of him was huge. His eyes wandered the porch, probably looking for anything that had changed after his last visit, and after his surveying was done, he looked down at Renee again. "Mr. Carter noticed that you'd flown in from Phoenix. Only one thing would make you fly in during the month of March." He leaned in close again, eyes deathly angry, and whispered, "Bella."

Renee imagined his voice would have been a growl if he hadn't been speaking Bella's name. Everything about Bella made him soft, gentle. Edward's affections for her daughter were the only thing that had kept the Swans alive, she was sure. "I-I don't know what –"

"Recite Rule Number Three for me, Renee."

She swallowed. His "care manual" told her how to take care of her own daughter, and she'd had to memorize it. "In the case of Isabella contracting a disease, immediate contact to Edward Cullen is required," she whispered in monotone, picturing the page of the packet that was sitting in her dresser drawer at home in Arizona.

Edward glared harder, if that was possible. "As I said before," he murmured, "only one thing could make you come to Forks, Washington at this time of year. It's not Christmas, and it's not her birthday. Therefore, she must be sick." He loomed over her for a moment, pausing for dramatic effect. "Extremely sick. And yet –" he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and made a show of staring at the screen for a few moments "– I did not receive a call. Or any form of message. I wonder, Renee, is your phone broken?"

As if on cue, the kitchen phone rang, loud and shrill. She heard Charlie pick up the receiver and mumble, "Hello?" It must not have been an important call because almost instantly, he hung up again with a simple, "Yes, I'll see you tomorrow, Mark."

"Clearly, it is not," Edward snarled at her. It was times like those that he absolutely was a vampire. Other times, it was easier to forget that he lived off of blood, when he acted like a gentleman. But those moments, in those days, were reserved for when Bella was in the room. "Open the door, Renee. The whole way."

He'd invited himself in, of course. As if there were ever any doubt in Renee's mind that he would come in, anyway. He would want to see Bella, sick or not.

"Renee?" the voice of her ex-husband called. "Who's at the door? What's taking so long?"

She swallowed. "It's Edward," she answered back, trying not to let her voice echo down the hall to her sleeping daughter. Bella was always far too eager to see this man. She was in love with him. Renee didn't understand it at all, but she had no say. Bella was eighteen years old and could see however she wanted. But they weren't just dating. Edward owned Bella – at least, that's the way he acted. He controlled everything she did – technically, even though when she asked him for things, he never said no. He provided her with food and new clothing and school supplies for her senior year. He was going to pay for her college education.

Instantly, Charlie Swan was out of his kitchen chair and in the hallway, standing behind his once-love. His smile wasn't quite as welcoming as Renee's. He didn't like Edward and wasn't afraid to show it. "Hello, Edward," he said, "what can we do for you?"

Edward didn't acknowledge his fake helpfulness. "I want to see her, Charlie. I think I've been very kind, letting you keep your heads on your shoulders instead of simply ripping them off. Bella is still in your possession." He flexed his fingers against his biceps, staring the slightly-over-weight police officer. "Open the door and let me in or I will force myself in."

Renee finally noticed the plastic bag with the local store's logo on it in his left hand and a small velvet box in his right. Her heart jumped. Would this be the day he proposed to her? Bella would say yes, Renee was sure, and when they married she would never see her daughter again.

Edward's sensitive ears heard the change in her heartbeat and he met Renee's gaze evenly, eyes hard. "You didn't think I'd travel to Paris and not bring the love of my existence back a present, did you?"

"Paris," she echoed. "That must have been some trip. I've heard that –"

"I don't care, Renee," he growled. "I'm running out of patience."

Renee glanced back at Charlie over her shoulder. It was his house, after all. She was only visiting. Charlie turned and walked away, defeated after hardly even trying, and she sighed, opening the door as wide as it would go. "Please come in, Edward."

…

"Oh, Edward," Bella whispered weakly. She'd hardly had the strength to sit up, Renee had noticed, but with Edward's help, she'd leaned herself against the fluffy couch cushions. Now, she was admiring the diamond necklace he'd presented her with. "It's absolutely beautiful."

"Just as you are," Edward whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "I've missed you."

"I missed you, too," she told him, wrapping both arms around his neck. She tugged him closer so that she could rest her head on his chest, closing her eyes contently. It was moments like those, the gentle, calm, innocent ones, that Renee was most welcoming to their relationship. "Where did you go?"

Edward frowned. He'd told her that the day he left, two weeks ago. How could she not remember? "Paris, love," he responded quietly. She was so pale and fragile and weak with this sickness – he was afraid that any loud noise would break her. "I wish you could have come with me. It's the city of love."

Bella giggled. "Say something in French!"

"Que voulez-vous que je dise?" he said, his voice suddenly taking on a perfect French accent. Renee shivered at the delight she found in his words, even though she had no idea what he'd said. Then she scolded herself.

"What does that mean?" Bella asked in awe.

"What do you want me to say?" he explained.

She giggled again. "Now say something else."

"Quelque chose d'autre."

"What does that mean?"

He smiled down at her. "'Something else'".

She smacked his chest playfully as he twisted her words teasingly. "Now say . . . um . . ." She wrapped her fingers in his hair. How could she word this so that he wouldn't make a joke out of it?

His eyelids lowered so he was looking at her from under his eyelashes. Watching her always made him weak. "Je t'aime, Bella," he whispered.

She knew enough French for that one. "I love you, too, Edward."

Now, he had to get down to business. "Have you seen a doctor about your illness?"

Her eyebrows pulled together and she frowned. "No, and I don't want to."

Edward had been afraid of this. She wasn't a big fan of doctors, even though she should have been used to hospital visits, what with her clumsiness. She needed to make sure that whatever had her coughing and wheezing as she was wasn't very serious and would go away in time. Perhaps she even needed a medication. "But sweetheart," he pleaded, "you might not get better on your own."

She shook her head. "I'm not that sick." Contradicting herself, she turned her head, balling her hand in a fist so that she could cough loudly into it. Edward worried that one of her lungs would hack up as he waited for a full two minutes for her to be able to stop coughing and catch her breath.

"Bella," he said, lifting a hand to feel her forehead. It was hotter than it should have been with a simple fever. Bella sighed, the coolness of his hand acting as an icepack. It felt good against her steaming skin. "You're fever is much higher than it should be," he whispered to her. "A fever is healthy for you when you're sick, but one this hot? It shouldn't be this bad. And listen to that cough," he ordered as she broke out in another fit of hacking.

"I don't want to visit the doctor, Edward," she whispered, looking up at him with wide, frightened eyes. When the tears began to swell up and spill over her eyelids, he caved, wrapping his arms around her tighter.

He swallowed, feeling the pain in his chest that he always felt when she was hurt or upset. "Bella, love," he begged, "you need to be looked at by a doctor."

"You went to medical school," she reminded him slyly, innocently drawing a pattern on his left cheek.

He leaned his head into her touch, closing his eyes. He couldn't let her talk her way out of this doctor's visit, he told himself. He wouldn't let that happen – she was sick. "Bella, please. That was in the nineteen twenties. I believe things have changed quite a bit during my absence from the medical world."

Bella frowned. It made his heart throb – figuratively. "But you'd still know what medication to prescribe me."

He couldn't hold back his smile, but shook his head anyway. "I'm not up-to-date with the current antibiotics that doctors are using. You need to see a real doctor, Bella. Someone who has a legal doctorate to be a doctor."

"You graduated medical school," she insisted, leaning down to rest her head on his chest. Her breath puffed onto his neck in an uneven rhythm and he closed his eyes in hesitation. She was so innocent and precious to him; he couldn't lose her for anything, but denying her something she wanted – or in this case, didn't want – would kill him.

"What if you didn't have to go to the hospital?" he suggested, a new idea coming to the front of his mind. He knew of a doctor who he'd met a very long time ago who would be willing to come and examine Bella. He would be there quickly, he knew. "Would you be willing to have a doctor come to your house to examine you?"

Bella bit down on her lip, and the image did things to Edward that he wasn't proud of. "Okay," she relented after a few moments of considering it.

And just like that, Edward Cullen had gotten Bella to do something Renee and Charlie hadn't even been close to convincing her into. Edward looked up at Renee, standing in the doorway. He didn't smile, but he didn't glare. Renee offered a small smile, trying to make him forget that she'd broken the most important rule he'd made.

Edward just looked away, down to Bella's face. She'd fallen asleep in his arms, as usual. Renee didn't understand how she could sleep in the arms of a vampire, but questioning Bella only made her defensive. She would be returning to Phoenix in four days, she reminded herself, and then she wouldn't have to deal with Edward Cullen until her visit for Bella's birthday in September.

Edward chuckled, hearing this in her thoughts. Renee heard his laughter and gasped, knowing that if he hadn't known of her hatred for him before, he definitely knew about it now. She braced herself for a confrontation, but one never came. Edward was too distracted by the odd smell Bella's scent was taking. She didn't smell like herself, and it worried him.

…

Carlisle Cullen picked up the phone on the second ring. "Edward," he greeted him cheerfully. "It's been so long! How are you?"

"My mate is sick," Edward responded, "so I'm not very well." He was pacing the Swans' living room anxiously, eyes glued to Bella. She was lying down on the couch now, perfectly asleep. Her hands pillowed her cheek, her face peaceful. He could hear the uneven beating of her heart, and his nervousness rose.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Carlisle sympathized, an irritated tone creeping into his voice. "I suppose that's why you've called me."

Edward wouldn't let him make him feel bad about not having contact with his long-time friend. He'd been busy with Bella, making sure her future was all set for success. "She refuses to go to a hospital to get checked out, and doctors in Forks don't make house calls anymore." You're my only option, he thought but didn't say.

"Well, Edward," Carlisle started, "I'm not sure that I'm available right now." It had only taken four sentences for his tone to turn bitter and unwilling. Carlisle was a man who was willing to help anyone – as long as that anyone was a close friend of his. Because Edward hadn't made an effort to meet up with him lately, he would not want to help.

Well, Edward wasn't in the mood for games. "Then I suggest you make yourself available." His eyes wandered to Bella again. The dim lighting in the living room made Bella's skin look beautiful, he thought, momentarily distracted by his mate's beauty.

"I can't just make myself available, Edward," Carlisle snapped. In the background, Edward could hear people's voices – humans asking questions. "I've got a job. I cannot just take off work and fly across the globe at your whim. I'm in England now, you know. Or, you wouldn't know, because we haven't crossed paths since 1963."

Edward was prepared for this. "Have you forgotten that you owe me a favor, old man?" he snarled. Bella stirred for the briefest of moments, and he froze momentarily. But when she settled back down into the pillows and blankets that surrounded her, he calmed again.

"And what would that favor be for?"

Edward stopped his pacing and slammed his hand into the wall next to him, causing a little plaster to fall to the ground as he created a dent in the light-gray-painted surface. "Because you made me into the horrid killer that I am," he almost yelled, forgetting that Bella was resting a few feet away. "You transformed me into this bloodthirsty murderer! Against my will,you made me into this awful creature, doomed to live an eternity of watching the people I am surrounded by die off and move on to better things – to the afterlife! Heaven isn't an option for me anymore, and I'll have to live with myself every day after Bella's eighteenth birthday, knowing that I was so selfish that I took away her chance at a life with God as well. It's your fault that my life is like this. I should be dead. I should have died in 1918 but I didn't because you changed me. I'm a vampire. An immortal."

Charlie, having heard the loud bang of Edward's granite hand colliding with the wooden wall, had peeked his head into the room to see what had happened Edward glared at him balefully and Charlie quickly ducked back into the kitchen, returning to his newspaper.

Suddenly, though, Edward was through trying to convince Carlisle to come and look at Bella. He was moving on to threats. "And if you don't come over here right now," he snarled, "and help my mate . . . I will hunt you down. If whatever she has is fatal, and I'm forced to change her before the date we've set up and agreed upon, I will come for you. And I will kill you." He lowered his voice menacingly. "And you know I can, Carlisle. You're, what – three hundred years old now? And I'm still young at one hundred and nine. You haven't fed from humans since your transformation. I had a good eighty years of nothing but human blood, up until I met Bella and switched to your animal diet."

"You've switched?" he interrupted, clearly shocked at this news. "Edward, that's wonderful!" The fear that he was feeling was evident in his tone. He wasn't doing a very good job of covering that up.

"I couldn't have Bella in my life and continue to feed off of humans," Edward growled, but didn't let the subject be changed. "You're going to come down here, aren't you, Carlisle? Because you know that I'm telling the truth, that I'll come and tear you limb from limb. You know that I'm not joking, that my threats are always carried through." With the exception of the Swans, he added, but that was only because Bella would hate him if he hurt her parents.

Carlisle swallowed. The voices in the background had stopped, so Edward assumed he'd gone into a separate room, a private place for him to talk. "I'll be there," he finally relented. "I'm booking a flight right now."

"Make it for today," Edward ordered. "You'll leave tonight and be here by morning,"

…

"Alright, Bella," Carlisle finished. He pulled the IV needle out of her arm and placed it in a Ziploc bag to be sterilized again later. "Do you feel better after getting those fluids?"

Bella nodded. "Yes. A lot better."

Edward could already see a huge difference in her. Bella's face wasn't quite as pale as it had been before. She was sitting up straighter, breathing deeper. Her heartbeat was steadier, and her eyes were brighter as she peered up at him. He bent to press a kiss to her temple, then her cheek, the tip of her nose, and finally, her lips. She giggled as she always did when he did that, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. He settled into the couch next to her, pulling her into his arms and onto his lap.

"I'm leaving the machinery here for Edward to use if you were to get that dehydrated once again," Carlisle continued as he packed up his things. Yes, dehydration had been Bella's biggest problem. The common flu had progressed into a very bad sickness because of it. "Your mother took the antibiotics I gave you and put them in the kitchen. Now remember, they won't get rid of the disease itself, but it should help with your coughing and sneezing. It'll clear your lungs to make breathing better, as well. The flu infection itself should go away in a few more days." Am I forgetting anything? Edward heard him ask himself in his mind. He'd been monitoring his thoughts very closely, making sure his intentions weren't to harm Bella at all.

"No," he answered him, even though the question hadn't been his to answer. Carlisle looked up for a second, pausing, and then nodded.

"That's all, I suppose," he concluded his stay. "I hope you feel better soon, Bella."

"Thank you," Bella responded politely, resting her head on Edward's chest. Her eyes were already closed and she was going back to sleep. That made sense – she'd been awake for too long. Resting would help her get well sooner.

Edward stood, promising Bella that he would be back after seeing Carlisle out. At the door, Carlisle offered Edward his hand. "Please accept my apologies," he said softly as Edward shook it. "I should not have been bitter towards you." Really, though, the golden color of Edward's eyes had softened him when he arrived. That was the reason for his regret.

"Of course," Edward said anyway, deciding that he didn't want another battle. He wanted to have Bella back in his arms as soon as possible.

"I'll see you . . . next time." When Isabella is sick again, he thought.

Edward nodded. "Next time I'm in Europe, I'll let you know." No need to tell him that that would be a long time away since he'd just returned from Paris the day before.

Carlisle's face brightened at the promise. "That sounds wonderful, old friend. I have someone I would like you to meet, anyway."

"Oh?" Edward said, watching the image of a brunette vampire with the same golden eyes as a vegetarian vampire had pop into his creator's mind.

"Esme," he told him. "She is my mate. I changed her a few years after you . . . left."

"How wonderful," Edward said meaningfully. "I'm . . . glad you're happy."

"Thank you. That means a lot to me."

Ten minutes later, with Carlisle well on his way home and Bella wrapped securely in his arms, he pondered the idea of being a member of a coven. Perhaps, he thought, one day, after Bella had become immortal and her parents were gone from the earth, they would join Carlisle in the house he'd built for himself and his mate. "We'll have a happy life together, Bella," he whispered, pulling the diamond engagement ring out of his pocket. It would be the first thing Bella saw when she woke from her nap.

…

Renee watched Edward open the small velvet box from the bottom of the steps, feeling her heart break. She'd known this was coming.

But the happy expression on Bella's face – the way her eyes had lit up when Edward had whispered, "Will you marry me?" – was worth it. She would be happy and loved, and that was all Renee could ask for her daughter.

"Daddy," Bella called excitedly. "Come see! Mom!"

Admiring the ring that matched the necklace he'd given her the day before – because it truly was beautiful – Renee found a little peace in her heart. Later, when she called Phil to tell him of the wedding, she didn't even cry.

Author's Note:

As mentioned before, this is very OOC, especially for Carlisle, but I loved playing with his personality a little.

Let me know what you thought in a review - favorite quote, favorite character, favorite moment, or maybe a mistake I made - a type-o, a kink in the plot . . . anything. Let me know what you thought.

Thank you for reading.