'You failed me," he spat in his face. "I never asked for you, child, and you should never have been conceived, but your mother wanted a baby so badly." The man's hand hit the blond boy's cheek, his rough fingers scraping his skin. In a desperate attempt to please his father, he tried to withhold his tears, refusing to let them fall. His father saw straight through them, grabbing him by the throat and shoving him back toward the ground. "Don't you dare, Carlisle, I raised you better than this; you are weak."

His hands and knees were torn to shreds as he scrambled against the gravel to get away. "Father," he pleaded through soft sobs. "Please-"

"Stop your groveling," he growled, kicking dirt at him as he turned away. "Your mother would have been ashamed of you."

.

.

Carlisle POV

My office rushed back into focus far too quickly. The sudden shift made my head spin, and the light filtering through the trees was glarey and too bright, making it difficult to face the window. Still, I risked a nervous peak through the glass, just to confirm everything was as it should be.

Our yard was still in order. It still didn't look much like 'our' property yet; the grass was still to grow in after the construction of our house, and Esme had just begun mapping out a plan for the gardens. For now, the whole place was just grey and muddy.

It was a few seconds longer before the sounds of my family filtered back in to the room, and even then, they sounded further away than I knew they were. I sank back in my seat, focusing on a spot on the ceiling and forcing a few deep breaths; despite not needing the oxygen, hyperventilating was making me anxious.

That awful memory might have been gone, but the sick feeling wasn't shifting. My hands were shaking so badly that I couldn't hold my pen anymore, and I accidently dropped it onto my desk instead. It landed on the wood with a wet slap. Confused, I glanced down.

The paper in front of me was soaked in blood.

I recoiled immediately out of shock, fighting the rising bile in my throat. The edges of the page irritated my palms as I screwed it up and shoved it into the trash can under my desk. Instantly, the walls seemed to shrink around me, cloying claustrophobia taking over as my father became firmly wedged in my thoughts again; moving back to my hometown was stirring up things I didn't want to remember.

My family's voices crept through the floorboards, suddenly painfully loud, and I sunk my teeth into my lip to mask my panicked breaths as they echoed around the room. It shouldn't have made me dizzy, but my vision swum and I was too lightheaded to get up and lock the door, and I really didn't want anyone up here until I could calm down

The blood left of the desk was beginning to soak into the wood, and I pressed another few sheets of paper over it in an attempt to mop it up - I couldn't think straight enough to do anything else. It was futile; blood only seeped through that as well. Each time I touched something, my hands stung, but it took some time before I was coherent enough to look down at my fingers.

I was bleeding. My hands were bleeding.

My vision warped again.

It didn't make sense.

Seconds before, I had been fine, and the blood hadn't been there. Hadn't been there until I'd thought about my father. I swallowed thickly, trying to wipe my hands clean on my jeans to examine the wounds, if there was going to be any. The rough fabric dragged and pulled, and my stomach twisted painfully as I realised what I was about to see.

The grazes were there. Just like they'd been when I was a child.

Suddenly, vomiting was a very real prospect. It wasn't possible; minor wounds didn't just bleed like this, and it was entirely impossible for me to be injured like this. Besides, it had only been a few seconds, certainly not enough time for this much blood-

I glanced at the clock, and my heart sank. Fifteen minutes. It had been fifteen minutes since I'd had that flash back. I was definitely going to throw up. My throat tightened and I couldn't take a breath to calm down, trying to stop myself hyperventilating before it got out of control.

Just wanting it to be gone, I tried to wipe it away with my clothing again. It was getting worse. The bleeding only accelerated, and I really couldn't breathe and I couldn't think and I was so sure I was going to throw up-

Someone knocked softly on my door. I jumped, but couldn't get the words out to answer them, and just had to hope they'd leave me alone until I found a way to fix this. I couldn't, though; I couldn't touch anything without spreading the mess, but I knew the smell of it would be upsetting my family. Although it was making me nauseous, it was still blood. My senses were so dull that whoever was outside of my office was too blurry to focus on, and I tried to brace myself for their entrance.

"Jesus, what happened?" Edward was in front of me suddenly, wide eyed and watching me carefully.

I didn't know what to tell him, but somehow my voice didn't shake when I answered him. "...there's a first aid kit in my car, can you get it please?"

He hesitated, unable to tear his eyes away from the blood. Eventually, he just nodded, choosing to jump through the window to get outside instead of taking the stairs. It was probably better; I knew how much it would scare Esme. He was back within a minute, quickly opening the container to find something to wrap the wounds with. In his panic, he didn't know what to hand me, glancing from me to the box and back again.

"...on the top, Edward…" I murmured to him. My fingers were tingling, and the heat leached from the room. "Did you leave the window open?" Hoping that he had, I fought back the need to shiver.

He shook his head, ripping open the packet with his teeth. "You okay?" he asked warily.

"I will be when I can clean this up." I forced a smile, but he couldn't be convinced. His doubt only solidified as I dropped what he handed me. My coordination had vanished, and I was getting progressively weaker despite not moving. I leaned my elbows against my desk to stop myself slipping.

"You're really pale, Carlisle, are you sure?" Refocusing his attention on the bleeding, he was visibly conflicted about what to do. He grabbed my hand without asking, starting to wrap it tightly.

"I'm fine." I wasn't, though, not if Edward had to endure my father as well, even if it was second-hand abuse. "I'm sorry that you had to hear that," I murmured to him, unable to glance up to meet his gaze. This conversation in itself was enough to make me want to vomit.

"For what?" he asked, distracted.

It immediately confused me that he didn't already know what I meant. He always knew what everyone meant, and I instinctively rolled my eyes at him. "Why did you come to see me just now?" I asked instead, wondering if he hadn't been paying enough attention to me at the time to hear it. He tried hard to avoid the invasion of privacy that mind reading created, and relief washed over me; it really wasn't something that I wanted to explain, and we'd never spoken much about that side of my past. Perhaps moving had preoccupied him enough to keep him safe from it.

He swallowed hard, his hands suddenly still and my heart sank. "Carlisle, there was a couple of minutes that I couldn't hear you...I could hear everyone except for you and Bella," he told me softly. "What happened?"

I kept my mouth shut; I didn't know what to tell him.

"Even now, you're blocking me partly." He gently squeezed my fingers, looking a little anxious now. "Are you sure you're alright?"

The ticking of the clock on the wall was deafening, and it was a strain to drag my attention off of it. "Y-yes, I'm okay." The blood was seeping through again, and I quickly finished bandaging what he hadn't done, trying to stem it. Not seeing it made me feel a little more stable, but the blood starting to congeal on the wood in front of me was still posing a big problem. It was bad enough that Edward already knew about it; he would most likely have the most logical reaction to everything, so I didn't want to know what the other's would do. "Thank you, I'm okay, now," I assured him again.

I grabbed hold of the first aid kit and dug out a pack of alcohol wipes, ignoring the obnoxious smell of it as I started to wipe everything clear. It seeped through the bandages and stung the grazes, though. Edward leaned back in his chair, hating the scent of it at well. "How did you cut yourself? For all this family has been through, no one has ever bled before, Carlisle."

I shrugged, shifting uncomfortably. "...I'm really not sure, Edward," I admitted.

He sighed, disbelieving. "You don't look well."

"I'm okay," I repeated. "...just...confused, I guess."

"I'm getting Esme," he mumbled, standing up. He was out of the room before I could argue with him, and I quickly shoved the bloody tissues into the trash can, snatching the first aid kit off the desk and placing it out of sight in a draw.

There wasn't much I could do about the state of my clothing; it was dark enough to cover most of it, but not much would escape her notice. Edward may have meant well, but terrifying my wife wasn't something I was in favour was.

She came in without knocking, shutting the door behind her and leaning back against it. For the first time, I was uncomfortable with her so intently focused on me. I nervously tucked my fingers inside of my long sleeves, wanting to hide it from her. It was no use.

Esme came closer, perching on the edge of my desk and closing her fingers around my arm. "You're...what on earth happened?" She reached up to brush her thumb against my throat and across my cheek, and the pressure throbbed a little.

Without thinking, I tried to hold her wrist, so that she wouldn't touch me there. Her eyes widened upon seeing my hands, and I realised that they had bled through, though it finally seemed to be stopping. "It's alright, Esme, it's nothing that bad," I murmured, almost pleading with her not to react.

To her credit, she covered her shock well. "Is it painful, love?"

"It doesn't hurt." It didn't seem to put her at ease like I had hoped it would. I couldn't look at her anymore, too unsteady, and had to watch the floor to fight off the feeling. "I'm just not sure what happened."

She touched my face again, and I swallowed thickly as the discomfort returned. "You're bruised," she told me softly. "Someone hurt you…"

It didn't ease my confusion any. "No one has touched me. I was here the whole time." Bile rose in my throat again, and the sounds downstairs had stopped; the rest of the coven were listening to this conversation. I shifted in attempt to clear the feeling.

"Carlisle," she warned lowly, too low for them to overhear.

"I don't know," I whispered back. Fear was ebbing in, and I wanted to throw up. Instead, I threaded our fingers together, trying to calm myself down again.

"You weren't well the other day, is this the same?" Worry was overtaking her perfect features, and I would have done anything to take that away. As much as I didn't want to admit it, she was right, and I nodded slowly. She abruptly wrapped her arms around me, and I ignored the twinge of pain it caused. "Please don't start work yet. I know you want to go back, but please just wait until we're settled here…"

I pushed my chair back a bit so that I could pull her into me. Starting a new job at the local hospital was all that was keeping me sane in this god forsaken town, and the thought of putting it off further was far from appealing. It wouldn't be worth upsetting Esme, though. "Alright, love."

.

.

The next day, I was glad that I had stayed home. The house was unpacked and complete, and the others had already begun university, but everything felt far from usual. The birds were quiet in the trees, the wind was dead, and we were so far into the countryside that there were no signs of civilisation to anchor myself in reality with. It was far, far too similar to the surroundings of my father's property.

Esme caught me focused on the window, her hand coming to rest on my leg as she sat on the couch next to me. "It's pretty here."

"It'll be nicer once you plant your gardens." Maybe that would destroy some of the similarity as well; his rough hands could never maintain something so beautiful. The thought of it made my stomach hurt, and I sighed under my breath. We may not have been living here long, but I was hating this place more and more with each second that passed.

She looked up at me, studying my face. "You okay?"

I fought the urge to pull the collar of my shirt closer to my neck to try and hide the marks on my throat. Just nodding, I forced myself to relax the tension in my body; it was painfully tight anyway, and Esme must have been aware of it as she leaned against my side. I wrapped my arm around her and she shuffled closer. "Of course."

It was obvious that she didn't believe me, but she left it alone, thank god. We stayed together until the others started to arrive home, and I was calmer while she was with me. Our house became noisy again, and instantly my head started to throb, and I shuffled out from under her, placing a gentle kiss on her lips when she began to look concerned again.

I went upstairs before she could comment on it. Standing up quickly returned the dizziness, and I found myself keeping my hand against the wall all the way to our room. Closing the door created a capsule from the outside, and the isolation was a relief. I locked the bathroom door and sat on the edge of the bathtub.

My hands stung was I tugged the bandages undone. Part of me didn't believe that there would be any wounds in the first place, and that I had dreamt the whole thing. They were there. The grazes were less inflamed than yesterday, healing quickly, but they were still there. The sight of the blood instantly made me nauseous, and I ran my hands under the tap to clean as much of it away as I could. It was ridiculous; I'd been a doctor for years and had never had a problem, but as soon as it was my own blood, I couldn't handle it. I was a vampire, for god's sake.

One glance in the mirror, and I knew what Esme had been so fixated on all day; the bruising was a lot darker around my throat, and it did look like someone had attacked me.

None of this made sense.

It was only a memory.


A/N: thank you for your kind reviews. Sorry that it has been so long between updates, but I do plan on continuing this story :)

Thanks for reading!