Pastor Cullen POV

Again the boy was late. He just wouldn't learn.
I stood looking out our kitchen window for his arrival. Again I would have to beat him or his disobedience. How was he ever supposed to become a son of god if he couldn't behave? He was possessed by Satan himself, I was sure of it.

Finally, I saw him hurrying up the road. I looked at the clock. He was three minutes late. Anger bubbled inside of me. How DARE he disrespect me like this?! The front door opened and I heard him come into the house. I made a beeline for him.
"CARLISLE!" I screamed at him while slapping him with enough force that he fell to the ground. Immediately the side of his face became red. "GET UP YOU WORTHLESS CHILD!" slowly he obeyed me. Too slowly. I kicked his feet out from underneath him and he flew back and smacked him head hard against the tiles. Served him right. "I SAID GET UP!" he did, faster this time. So the boy did learn, he just chose not to.
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR CLOTHES?!" I demanded, noticing they were more ripped than they were this morning. He looked down at his feet. I could see him body trembling in fear. I also noticed that he held one of his arms close to him. He was hiding something from me. I could feel a vein throbbing on my forehead.
"T-the o-other k-kids-" I didn't let him finish.
"HOW DARE YOU HIDE THINGS FROM ME!" the stupid creature looked confused. That did it. I grabbed his arm, the one he had been cradling, and began dragging him toward the basement. He screamed and started to cry. Baby. "SHUT UP!" I screeched at him. He tried to hold back his tears but sobs still shook his body. "I SAID QUIET!" I threw him to the ground and kicked him as hard as I could in the stomach. He immediately curled up to protect himself. "YOU'RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH! NOBODY LOVES YOU!" I shoved him with as much force as possible down the staircase and into the dark room. When he hit the bottom, he didn't move, and I strained to see if he was breathing. A pool of blood began to form where he was lying. He moaned quietly and I knew he was alive.
I charged down the stairs and dragged him into the room. "You killed your own mother, murderer," I hissed at him. I brought my whip down across his small body again and again, until he stopped flinching from the blows. Once I realised he was unconscious, I returned back upstairs to enjoy the coffee I had made before he came home. Dealing with that monstrous boy was stressful, I needed to relax.

As darkness fell, I sat down to my dinner. Halfway through my meal, I heard him coming back up the stairs. He quietly came down the hallway, attempting to sneak past me. For that he would go hungry.
"Carlisle?" I said sweetly. He slowly came and stood at the foot of the table.
"Y-yes f-father?" his voice shook and his face was wet from tears. Blood ran down his arm and dripped onto the floor.
"I want you to finish you chores and then go to bed." I said evenly. "And don't you even think about trying to steal food." He nodded. "Clean up that mess your making too." I motioned to the blood on the floor. With that, I finished my food and went to bed, falling into a comfortable sleep.

"D-daddy?" a small voice hiccupped, awakening me from my sleep.
"What?" I snapped, angry to have been disturbed. He knew better than that. He flinched, then gasped.
"…i-I don't feel well… a-and I think my arms b-broken…" his voice was so quiet I could barely hear him. Hadn't he learned from the last time he woke me up in the night?
"Too bad," I growled, rolling over. He whimpered and then gaged. I knew he been sick.
"I TOLD YOU NOT TO STEAL FOOD!" he shook his head violently.
"i-Ididntdaddy!" he cried, his words coming out in a rush. I stood towering over him. I could see fear reflected in his eyes.
"LIAR!" I screamed. "I HATE LIARS!" with that I pushed him through the glass window, and he fell the two-story drop. I heard a soft thud as he hit the ground. I planned to leave him there for an hour or so, and then come and drag the useless creature inside before any of the towns folk saw him there when the sun came out. I went downstairs and began my bible studies to past the time.

Sasha POV

In the early hours of the morning I was awoken by the sound of shattering glass. My heart leapt into my throat as I tiptoed to my bedroom window which faced the road.
Looking up and down the road, I saw nothing unusual. However, as I was about to turn back inside, a glint caught my eye. I studied the house across the street from me, having trouble making out what was in the shadows. The glint had been from the shards of glass which reflected in the washed out moon light. It surprised me that the glass had blown outwards instead off in. Something had come out of that window. And then I saw what. A small body lay in the dew-covered grass.

"Mum? What was that?" a sleepy Tanya asked, rubbing her eyes.
"Go back to bed, sweetheart, its nothing for you to worry about," I told her, being careful not to let my voice shake. Once I heard her bedroom door click shut, I threw in my coat and hurried out the front door, leaving it open behind me.

I cautiously approached the child on the grass. I was unsure what his father would do to me if he saw me here. Suddenly, their front door swung open and the looming figure of the pastor filled the doorway. I froze.
"W-what are you doing here?" He asked, seeming nervous. I don't think I had ever seen the pastor nervous before.
"What did you do to him?!" I gasped, motioning to the unconscious child at my feet. I noticed he was covered in blood.
"He disobeyed me, he deserved this!" he growled. My anger and hatred for this man swelled inside me.
"Why did you even have a child if you couldn't look after him?" I snarled. He seemed taken aback.
"I can look after him fine. Carlisle, get up!" he said defiantly. His son didn't respond.
"HE DIDN'T LISTEN TO YOU SO YOU THREW HIM OUT A WINDOW?!" I bellowed. He took a step back.
"He fell…" he mumbled, his eyes darting sideways.
"WHY WOULD I BELIEVE THAT?!" I saw my daughter standing in our front doorway, looking bewildered. "TANYA, GO TO BED!" she scuttled away. The pastor was becoming enraged, I could see it in his face.
"I WASN'T THE ONE WHO WANTED HIM! IT WAS MY WIFE!" he screamed at me. At my feet Carlisle started shivering, the cold air of the night getting to him. I reached down and put my coat over top of him. Within minutes the blood had soaked through it.
"YOUR NOT EVEN GOINGTO TAKE HIM TO THE HOSPITAL?!" I asked, disbelieving that one man could be so cruel.
"WHY WOULD I!? That boy is god's way of punishing me! That boy is Satan himself," he got very close to, spitting the words. "I don't love him. I don't want him. And if I take him to the hospital, my life is over."
"And if I take him to hospital?" I matched his tone.
"Then I'll shoot you, and if you live, I'll make you and your kids' lives hell." He said sternly. I didn't doubt his words. He began to walk back towards his door.
"You're not even going to take him inside?! He'll die!" He turned back to me.
"I don't care. That might even be a blessing. I told you I didn't want him." I got the feeling that this man couldn't care less for his son. He opened the door. "In fact, if you care so much, why don't you take him!" he laughed cruelly. I looked down at the boy.
"Fine." He looked slightly alarmed.
"My threat stays in place." He growled. "No doctors." I nodded reluctantly. "And when he misbehaves, I. DON'T. WANT. HIM. BACK. He is not my problem, he's yours. Got it?" Again I nodded, slightly scared by the man in front of me. "And get off my lawn before anyone sees you."
I couldn't believe him. He wasn't worried that his son was dying in front of him, just that people might see what he had done to his son.

"Carlisle?" I whispered softly, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He didn't respond. I gently picked the bruised boy up and began carrying him back toward our house. I was shocked at how light he was, he practically weighed nothing. I wondered if I might be too late to save him. God, I hope not.

Again I tiptoed down our hallway, praying that none of the other kids woke up. I sighed in relief when I made it to the spare bedroom and lay him on the bed. He was still bleeding heavily.
I rushed downstairs to find a pail and filled it with water.
Taking it back to him, I knelt beside the bed. Carefully, I peeled back the sleeve of his blood-soaked shirt and began wiping his skin clean of the red liquid, trying to find the source of the bleeding. He stirred a little but otherwise remained unconscious.
Moving my hand up his arm, I felt a lump under his sleeve. Trying to keep calm, I quickly found a pair of scissors and cut away the rest of the sleeve.

I couldn't help the sob that escaped my lips when I realised what it was.
Bone protruded from a raw rip in his small arm, blood pouring out of the wound. I panicked, considering calling a doctor despite the threat. This time when I ran to the kitchen, I didn't worry about who I woke up. Irina came into the kitchen.
"GO TO BED!" I screeched. She started, and began hurrying from the kitchen. I grabbed the medical box and raced back upstairs. I noticed he was starting to stir a little.
"Carlisle, can you hear me?" I asked, trying to portray a calm figure. He didn't react. I had no idea what to do; I had no medical training what-so-ever.
Suddenly, he jerked away from me.
"I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to please don't tell dad I'll clean it up I'm sorry." He burst into hysterics. I lifted my arm up to put it around him. He flinched violently and immediately stopped making noise, just whimpered softly and curled into a ball. Tears ran down his cheeks.
"Hey… Honey, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," I whispered, reaching toward him. He backed up as much as he could to get away from my touch. I sat on the edge of the bed. He kept glancing nervously toward the window.
"I'll clean it up please don't tell my dad," he begged urgently.
"Clean what up?" I asked gently. He looked at the blood which had covered the bed. "No, no, no, you're going to stay here and lie down." I could see him shaking again, except this time I guess it was from fear.
"W-what a-about my d-dad he's g-going to b-be mad…" I could barely hear him.
"You don't have to worry about your father anymore, Carlisle, he can't hurt you now." He didn't look comforted. "Does your arm hurt, love?" He nodded helplessly and pulled it against him. "Can I see? Please? I won't touch you if you don't want me to." He shook his head and pressed his back against the wall, trying to get away. "I promise, I just want to help you." Hesitantly, he shuffled forward until he was close enough to me for me to see properly. His trembling worsened. "If I go down and get you something that will make it feel a bit better, will you take it for me?" He bit his lip but nodded again.
When I returned with the pain relief, he hadn't moved. I noticed he was quite a lot paler then when I first brought him in. I held it out to him and he swallowed it as quickly as he could.
"A-am I going to go to sleep now?" he asked shyly.
"Maybe, sweetie, but it's okay." I could see he was having trouble focusing on things even though he had only just taken it. "In the morning I'm going to call someone to help fix your arm, okay?" he looked a bit panicked, but agreed. "Am I allowed to put a bandage on it just for now, to help stop the bleeding?" he carefully slid closer to me. I could tell he didn't trust me, but had reached a point where he just didn't care.
I gently began wrapping the bandage around it. It was swollen and red from the impending bruising. I could see deep scars from past wounds etched into his flesh. Already he had been through more than any human should in a life time.
As I neared the break site, he became fidgety.
"Tell me if it hurts too much and I'll stop," I told him softly. As I wrapped it over the bone, his breathing quickened and I felt him tense. I looked up at him. His face was wet. "Almost there…"
His breath came out in choking gasps which shook his body. When I was done, I quickly pinned it then pulled hands away. He immediately became calmer.
"Come and sit here for a minute." I patted a chair in the corner of the room. Once he was off the bed, I pulled the bloodied blankets from it and replaced them with clean ones.
"I-I'm sorry," he whispered.
"It's okay, just come and lie down now." As he made his way to the bed, he stumbled, tripping over his own feet. He crawled up the bed and lay where I told him to. I sat beside him. He still looked incredibly uncomfortable. "Are you okay sweetie? I mean apart from your arm?" He looked away. "You can tell me, I'm not going to hurt you." Again he just shook his head, not trusting me enough to confide in me, I suppose. I could tell he was fighting to stay awake, his exhaustion finally making its self apparent.

Eventually, sleep got the better of him. I pulled the blanket over him. He stiffened, obviously not as oblivious as I though he was. He didn't wake though.
Once I was sure he was going to stay asleep, I quietly moved from the room and tip toed back to my own bed. I lay awake thinking for several more hours, before finally drifting into my own dreams.

"MUM! WAKE UP!" Kate cried. I open my eyes to find her standing next to where I was lying.
"What, Katie?" I asked tiredly, my mind thick with sleep.
"We're late! You didn't wake us up and now the bus has gone!" I chuckled at my young daughters' seriousness about missing school.
"Yeah, don't panic. Nobody's going to care if you miss one day. Go and get ready for breakfast and I'll be down in a minute. She gave an exasperated sigh before following my instructions. I slowly dressed before making my way to the kitchen. The three of them looked up at me expectantly, waiting for their food.

"I have something I need to talk to you guys about," I said as I removed the bowls from the cupboard.
"Can it be after breakfast? We're already late, wait, are we even going today?" Irina asked. I knew she hoped the answer would be that they were staying, and right now I think I needed to be on their good sides. I didn't think they would be too excepting of him.
"No, dumb arse, we're not. Didn't you hear Kate before?"
"Tanya, be nice to your sister please." I growled. She didn't heed my warning and they both sat glaring at each other across the table.
"Fine, when she be's nice to our… visitor." Great, they already knew.
"WHAT VISITOR?!" Kate and Irina cried at the same time. Tanya looked toward me.
"…Something happened last night, and well, now we have someone staying with us…. And he's not a visitor, by the way, he's a part of our family now." Kate seemed to accept it, but Irina pouted.
"Who?" She spat.
"Carlisle Cullen." She barely let me get the words out before flying into a rage.
"WHY?! YOU DON'T THINK YOU SHOULD HAVE AT LEAST TALKED TO US ABOUT THIS FIRST?! WHY HIM?! WE WERE FINE BEFORE! HE'S JUST GOING TO RUIN EVERYTHING! HE'S WEIRD! I HATE HIM!" She screamed before flying up the stairs.
"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Tanya yelled after her. She replied with a disgruntled shriek.
"I don't think he's weird, I like him." Kate stated. I looked at Tanya.
"He's nice, I guess…" She replied looking away. I left them to their breakfast and went back up the stairs. Irina's door was closed and locked.
After briefly checking on Carlisle and discovering he was still asleep, I returned to my own room to tidy myself up a bit before the doctor arrived.

Only minutes later I heard a knock at the front door, followed by the excited voices of two of my daughters. They just adored Alistair.
"Sasha?" he called me from the kitchen.
"Mum, Alistair's here," Kate appeared in my room, telling me the obvious. I shooed her back downstairs and then went to meet him.
"So, you've got someone from me to see?" He asked leaning against the bench.
"Yeah, I guess…" He raised him eyebrows at me in question. "But um… there's a catch?"
"What are you getting me into this time?" He laughed. I blushed without knowing the reason.
"Look, you can't tell anyone or say anything about him out of this house, or else we're in big trouble. All of us." Even though I trusted him, I still felt scared.
"Okay…" he was suddenly serious.
"And um, he doesn't like being touched so try to do it as little as possible."
"Why do you have Cullen's kid?"
"What…?" I was alarmed that he had guessed who it was.
"Carlisle. I'm assuming that's who it is?" I nodded feeling guilty.
"How did you know?" I asked quietly. He laughed.
"A few years back, the last time he got sick, I had to try and treat him, but all without touching him." I started leading him up to the room. When we arrived at the door, I paused.
"Wait here a minute." I slid inside and put the lamp on dim. A soft light lit the room. The child remained motionless. "Carlisle…" I said gently, trying not to startle him. He didn't respond. I sat on the edge of the bed and put my hand on his legs. "Sweetie, wake up, there's someone here to see you." Again no response. "Carlisle?" I could feel myself beginning to panic. The door open behind me.
"What's wrong?"
"He won't wake up. I-" I burst into tears, scared I had waited too long to help him.
"Well, maybe it's better if he's asleep. That way I can actually touch him." I nodded but didn't feel comforted. Alistair knelt beside him and pressed his fingers into his neck, checking for a pulse.
"He's okay," he told me. I shook my head and he sighed. "What is actually wrong with him? Is he sick again, he's kind of warm."
"I think his arms broken," I whimpered.
"Turn on the light then, I can't see anything." I switched the overhead light on and the room fully illuminated. Alistair gasped. Under the brighter light, all the cuts from the glass and intense bruising from the fall were horrifically evident. "Which one?" he murmured. I reached toward the boy and as carefully as I could, moved his arm to where the doctor could work on it. I slowly unwrapped the bandage as Alistair arranged himself to see properly.

It was worse than the night before. The wound was more inflamed, and the arm almost black from deep bruises. The odd trail of blood still seeped from it. I couldn't imagine the pain he must be in.
"What happened to him?" Alistair whispered. He wore an expression of horror.
"…He fell out a window…" I wondered if he might infer the truth anyway.
"Mum?" Tanya asked, coming into the room.
"Not now honey, go wait downstairs." My voice shook. She came closer.
"I want to help." She sounded more sure than I felt. I looked at Alistair.
"Um… hold this," he said while handing her a towel. She stepped forward and took it. He gave a worried sigh. "Okay."
I looked away as he began shifting the bone back into position. A few seconds later, he swore.
"I can do it," my daughter said. I looked up to see her treading the needle to stich the wound closed, kneeling with Alistair beside Carlisle. She watched the entire time as he put the stiches in. Carefully, he slid a brace up the young boys skinny arm, and then fastened it in place. He stood and handed me a bottle.
"That should stay put, but if it doesn't you can tighten it. When he wakes up give him that, it should help the pain a bit. And whatever you do, DO NOT let him take that off." He gathered his things and then hurried out the door. I thanked him as he went. He seemed rather flustered, and I don't think I had ever seen him like that. I sent Tanya away and sat on the bed, planning to stay there until he woke up.