AN: I, like the rest of us, do not own the Twilight characters, and do not intend any copyright infringement.

CPOV

We crossed the small stream north of the house as we approached, and I bent down to collect a stone from the creek bed.

Edward… I tossed the stone to him and he turned and caught it neatly, slowing to match my pace as we walked toward the house.

"What's this for?"

"A demonstration. I'd like to go over a few ground rules for the house before we go inside."

"House rules?" he asked skeptically.

"Nothing too onerous, I hope. Do you know much about geology?" He scowled, which I took to mean that he did not. "Most rocks around here are sandstone or shale, fairly soft, as rocks go. But that is a piece of gneiss, probably brought down from Canada during the last glaciation. It's a metamorphic rock…quite hard."

"Fascinating." His expression belied the word.

"I'd like you to crush it." Now he looked interested.

"Crush it with what?"

"Your hand, of course." Now his expression was positively amusing. "Go on…"

He scowled again, and then his eyes grew wide as the rock was pinched to sand between his fingers. He stared at me.

"There are many things in the house that might seem as hard as rock… like the bathtub," I said, eying his shirt. "And there are other things that are much more fragile, like the faucets. Until you are used to your new strength, I ask that you take exceptional care with how you handle things… I'm an excellent surgeon, but a terrible plumber, and it would be unwise to call one in from town, if there are any… casualties among the pipes." He nodded, smirking. "Unless it's a skill you were wanting to acquire…" I added.

"No, I'll try to be careful. Anything else?"

"I have many possessions throughout the house, and you are welcome to look at any of them without asking first, except for the things in the bookcase behind my desk, and the paintings in the study. They are more difficult to replace — some are actually irreplaceable — and I'd like to help you when you are looking at them, at least for now."

"Fair enough." He watched me intently as I struggled to find the proper phrasing for the last rule. "And…"

"And, I don't think you should leave the house unless I'm with you for the time being. We are not really that far out of town, and if the wind is from the south…"

He frowned, but nodded.

"We can move in a few weeks, if we find it's too difficult, but for now we need to stay nearby."

"Whatever you think," he said irritably, looking down at his shirt. Right. He wanted a bath.

"Come on then, let's get you settled in." I showed him up to the house, and let him in the front door. This was one of my more modest homes…I really didn't need much. Location was always my primary concern; my homes needed to be near a hospital, and near a hunting ground, and as isolated as possible. I suddenly wished I had settled a bit further from the northern suburbs of Chicago, but the small farm house had been perfect for my needs at the time I found it…I couldn't have known it would feel close and cramped in the course of a week.

"That's the study, parlor, and dining room," I said, pointing to each of the rooms as we passed their entries, "and there's a kitchen in the back, though there's nothing much in it." I led him up the stairs. "This room is yours, and here's the only bathroom." I started the bathwater. "I'll go get you some towels and fresh clothes." I looked at him for the first time and realized that his eyes held a mixture of fear, pain and resignation behind their scowl. He was no longer angry, but he was hardly happy. He sighed and glared at me, and I left to collect the items I needed. When I returned he was sitting gingerly on the edge of the tub, very carefully adjusting the water temperature. "If you're okay for a bit, I need to run into town. I'll be back within an hour, and I'm sure you'd like a bit of privacy." Physical and mental. He smirked. "Please, just don't…"

"I won't leave. I'll take my bath and go explore the parlor. The books in there are okay for me to look at?"

"You are welcome to use anything in the parlor. All right. I'll be back soon." I tried to not think of my errand, but I wasn't sure I could actually hide a thought from him.

"No need to rush," he called after me as I walked down the hall. Yes, we could both use a bit of mental privacy.

I checked that all the windows were closed, so no scents could tempt him outside, and then ran toward town. I tried to keep my mind focused on the scenery until I was at least a mile from the house. Based on how long it took me to stop him with my thoughts during his hunt, I surmised that was his approximate range for reading thoughts. We'd have to experiment with that later.

I slowed my pace to give myself time to absorb the implications of the day so far, and most especially of Edward's gift. It was shocking. I had, of course, wanted a companion to share my home and my time with…I had longed for it for as long as I could remember. However, I had never anticipated sharing my every thought! That sort of intimacy, after being so completely isolated for centuries, was terrifying. And suddenly I came to a brief halt at the edge of the forest, an ancient memory flooding my mind: my own father, standing by the fireplace of our home in London, saying, "Be careful what you wish for — for the Lord works in mysterious ways." He does indeed… He does indeed.

I started walking, at human speed, to the public library. What was I going to do about Edward's gift? It seemed completely involuntary, like a sixth sense. He simply heard thoughts as well as words, without trying. I imagine if he tried, he'd hear even more…like paying attention in a conversation. I doubted he could help it, which would mean that though I might resent the invasion of my privacy, I would have to try to keep any resentful thoughts out of my mind in his presence if at all possible. Especially since, as my long-dead father had pointed out, I'd clearly brought it on myself. I shook my head, laughing at the irony.

And I should be grateful for his gift. Without it, I don't know how I would have stopped him from hunting, and I could hardly bear to consider the consequences of that. Three dead innocents, maybe more, before I could have stopped my… what? My creation, my son, my companion? Those deaths would have been on my conscience, blackening my soul. Edward could not be held responsible. I had been very, very careless, and very lucky that he had a gift, and I was able to discern it. I would have to talk to him before we hunted again. I did not want to exploit his gift for the purpose of control, and I'd certainly never use the false vision of his mother again, but he was much too fast for me to stop any other way if he had a head start…we'd have to negotiate something.

I finally approached my destination. The library always kept a week's supply of newspapers on hand; I knew I could review the legal notices and obituaries I'd missed during Edward's transformation. I hadn't left Edward's side for days, and needed to see how the Masens' death and estate were being reported, so I could know what to do next for Edward's inheritance. It was most critical to confirm that Edward had not been declared dead or missing. And I needed to know exactly when the Masens' house would be removed from quarantine, and when the solicitors would likely descend.

A few moments with the papers afforded me all I needed to know. The Masens' obituaries were reported in today's paper, along with a sentence about their surviving son, who was currently out of the area recovering from the illness that had claimed his parents. I let out a long breath. It was perfect, exactly as I needed it. I would buy a copy of the paper on the way home, so he could keep it if he wanted.

The information on the estate was a bit more difficult to find, but it was buried there, in a list of homes going on and off quarantine. The Masens' home would be off the list in four days. I rubbed my fingers over my brow, thinking of the various risks…the risk of taking Edward, still so young, to his parents' house, versus the risk of losing the inheritance if the proper papers were not located. It would have to be his choice. I would propose the options to Edward and let him decide.

I stopped to purchase a copy of the paper, and then ran back, hoping that Edward would feel refreshed, physically and mentally. I was shocked when I entered the house. The gramophone was playing Schubert, but there were broken pieces of records all over the parlor floor, and Edward was nowhere to be seen.

Edward? "Edward!"

"I'm here." And then I saw him, sitting on the floor, hugging his knees to himself and rocking. I knelt beside him and saw that his eyes were already very dark again.

"You need to hunt again."

"Is that it? I thought I was going mad. I'm sorry about your records…the music helps distract me, but they're very fragile…it took a while before I could get one set up without crushing it, especially when my throat started burning suddenly."

"They're easily replaced; think nothing of it."

"I'm glad you say that, because I ruined all my favorites trying to play them first." He looked exasperated with himself. I reached for his hand…his eyes were so dark I was afraid of taking him hunting without the physical contact… I needed to be able to restrain him, and I'd promised myself not to use his gift against him if it could be helped.

"It's fine, Carlisle, let's just go." I wasn't sure which of my thoughts were 'fine', but his willingness to leave was all I really needed at the moment. I led him back across the creek, and we ran northwest. I smelled the herd as he asked, "Deer?"

"Moose," I answered. "They're bigger, which will help. You go ahead," I said releasing his hand, "we're far from civilization now." He nodded and bolted off with confidence, which left me feeling strangely proud. When I caught up with him a few minutes later, he was halfway through draining a large bull moose, and had only gotten a bit of blood on his shirt. He might even avoid a bath this time. His lips broke the seal and blood squirted across his arm.

"Don't make me laugh when I'm doing this," he growled. "Now I do need a bath." He went back to feeding.

Sorry. I smiled as I watched him finish. He stood finally, and looked at the blood on his shirt and rolled his eyes.

"My days are going to get really boring if all I do is feed, bathe, and do laundry…"

"This won't last forever," I reassured. "You're already getting neater, and you won't need to feed so often as you get older. I can go weeks between meals and work at the hospital without a problem. And I'll try not to think anything you might find amusing while you're feeding from now on…" I added. He glared at me, but I caught the faintest hint of a smile as he shook his head.

"How often will I need to feed for now?"

"I'm not sure, but probably several times a day, depending on the size of your meals. How do you feel now?"

"Soiled, sated."

"Do you want to head back and bathe again?"

"I suppose. Do you need to leave again?" I shook my head. "Good. I have some questions."

"I don't doubt it." He started walking back, and I matched his pace. He seemed to have no trouble finding his way back this time.

"I can follow our trails back directly now," he answered my question without my voicing it. "And I've spent enough time in the house now, I remember what it smells like this time. Why do you keep calling it my gift? I'm not the one projecting thoughts."

That startled me. He thought this was my doing? "Edward, I'm not projecting anything. I'm just thinking. You can somehow hear it."

He stopped and stared at me, his face searching mine…no doubt his thoughts searching mine as well. "But when I was hunting, you called my name."

"Yes, it seems I can think your name and get your attention, but you were plucking thoughts from my head long before I had the desire to share any with you. Think of it like hearing. You can be hearing things all around you, but not listening to them. When I thought your name, you were distracted with your hunt. I'd been thinking of that image for several moments before I got your attention. I'm sorry," I added as he winced. I made sure that my mind was full of the trees around us. "You were distracted, so I thought your name so you would 'listen', just as I would have done if I were talking and you weren't paying attention. I wasn't projecting the thought into your mind; I just got your attention so you would pull it from mine."

"How do you know, how do you know it's me and not you?" He started walking toward the house again.

"Like I said, you took many thoughts before I knew you could. And if I were able to project thoughts, surely you wouldn't be the first person to hear them…it must be you."

"Is that common? Among vampires, I mean. I know you can't hear my thoughts…I tried answering you and you clearly didn't hear me, but what about others?"

"It's not common. Any gift at all is rare, and mind reading is extremely rare. I know of only one other, and he needs to touch in order to read. However once he's touched you, he can see any thought you've ever had, and every memory; you are a completely open book before him. It's very unsettling."

Edward read my discomfort. "I don't think that's how mine works. I think I only hear what you are thinking at a given moment… I still don't know anything about you from before we met, unless you've thought about it in my presence, like that vision of the Volturi." He shuddered slightly and looked at me. "It's hard for you, that I can hear your thoughts."

I sighed. No. Not able to hide a thought…

"I'm sorry," he said.

"No, I'm sorry, Edward. It is hard for me. It was going to be a challenge to share my home after so many years alone, but I'm happy to do it. Ecstatic really, which I'm sure is hard for you. I'm sure my… eagerness… is difficult to take in your present state, especially since you seem to be bombarded with it through my thoughts." He winced again. "This is more intimacy than I expected, and more than I'm comfortable with, but I do not resent you for it."

"Yes you do."

"No. I'm just going to have to adjust to the lack of privacy, and I've been a very private man for a very long time…too private, for too long. I suppose I'm making up for lost time," I said with a small smile. "Really, Edward. You cannot help it, and I cannot fault you. I just ask that you consider the fact that I can't help my thoughts any more than you can help hearing them, and try not to judge me too harshly for them."

He walked in silence, considering my words.

"Why do you keep thinking about my parents' house?"

I laughed, realizing, for once and for all, how little choice I had in sharing any plans with Edward.

"I'm trying to secure your inheritance for you. I arranged the notes on the hospital records so it appeared that you were released after your parents' death. I left today to confirm that the public obituary read that way. And I needed to see when your family home would go off the quarantine list. I will do everything in my power to secure the entire estate for you, but we need some documents, and it might be prudent for you to take some keepsakes now, in case we are unsuccessful…"

"You want me to visit the house? But, it will be surrounded by humans!"

"Well, we could go in the middle of the night, right after a hunt. It's unlikely we'd see any humans, and if you could just manage to not breathe, we could probably make it there and back without incident."

"Probably? I don't know, Carlisle, that sounds like a huge risk."

"It is. I won't deny it. And we might be able to secure your inheritance without the trip. I could forge documents easily, but if the real ones were to show up in a safe deposit box or in the house, it could make our claims tenuous… The choice has to be yours, Edward. We can go together to the house, taking all the precautions we can, or you can just send me, and I can do my best. But either way, I think it's best if we visit the house and try to find the documents. Did you father have a safe deposit box?"

"No, he had a safe in his study. I don't think I can remember the combination," he said as he struggled with his memories.

"That's not unusual," I said gently. "Our human memories fade as we leave that life behind. If you think about your parents often in your first several months, you'll be able to retain more of the memories. I wasn't aware of that until late in this life, and consequently have very few recollections of my human life." He nodded. "However, you shouldn't worry about that particular memory. We are vampires, with excellent hearing and dexterity. Cracking a safe combination will not be an issue."

His face broke into a grin, and he shook his head. "I suppose it all has to be good for something," he laughed. His smile faded. "Would we have to go tonight?"

"No, I think that would be unwise. The house goes off quarantine in four days, so we can go Thursday, when the whole neighborhood is sleeping. That would give you several more hunts. We could even practice skirting the neighborhood the night before just to see how you handle it. Or we can drop the whole thing, though I don't recommend that. This is your estate, your inheritance; I'll do whatever you want in this regard. I'm just trying to keep your options open for you.

"But, I don't understand; how can I inherit when I'm dead?"

"You're not dead, Edward, we've been over this before. Do you know Mr. Campbell? He's listed as a contact in your parents' medical records for issues pertaining to payments. Is he the executor of the estate?

"Probably… He's a lawyer like my father, but specializes in property law I think."

"Does he know you well?"

"I haven't seen him for years. He's a business associate of my parents, but not really a friend. Still, I think he'd notice red eyes." He looked sideways at me.

You saw that when you were alone? I'm sorry.

"When I was getting ready for my bath, I looked in the mirror. That was shocking."

I'm sorry, I should have warned you.

"You were busy." He paused, focusing on his long strides that were carrying us to the house much faster than expected. "It brought the whole vampire thing home, though. Why don't I look like you?" His voice sounded almost hurt.

"You do, other than your eyes. They'll fade to gold over several months of a diet of animal blood. Vampires who feed on humans retain the crimson eyes."

"Like the Volturi in the vision."

"Yes, like most of our kind, actually. I agree that we can't have a meeting with any solicitors until your eyes fade, but we can take care of preliminaries by mail."

"Have you ever tasted human blood?"

"Only once," I said, and before I could help it the memory of Edward's transformation flashed in my mind. I quickly attempted to purge it, think of something else, but it was too late. He froze.

"It was me?" he whispered. He'd seen the bite that caused his own transformation through my eyes. How could he forgive me for that? No one should have to see that. I braced myself for his fury.

"Oh, GOD, I tasted good!" He swayed, and then his knees crumpled. I knelt by him, taking his face between my hands.

Edward! Edward…

"I tasted good," he said, intensely, looking into my eyes. His hands had come up to clutch at my arms.

Yes, I admitted. There was no point trying to hide it from him.

"Carlisle, how did you stop?" he asked incredulously. He was viewing this as a vampire? Not as a victim? Not as himself?

With great difficulty. The memory flashed again: the two superimposed faces that had passed through my mind as I drank from Edward. The two faces that had allowed me to pull away from his open throat. The first face was full of hope and passion; the second was full of fire and death.

"Who was that?"

"Your mother," I answered, knowing he was referring to the faces in the vision. I cursed myself that he had to see this. His gift was cruel.

"I know that one," he spat impatiently. Right. Of course he knew that one.

"Aro," I answered, naming the second face. "One of the Volturi…a friend, in some respects. Cultured, civilized, knowledgeable, always curious…but you've seen his dining habits." I shuddered. "He is everything I fear I could become, if I were to succumb to the siren song of human blood. Superimposed with your mother, it was all my fear and all my hope..."

"And that's what allowed you to release me? You didn't want to be like him?"

I nodded. "And I wanted to be worthy of your mother's faith in me." He took several steadying breaths. His eyes bore into mine, his mind into mine, and then he released my arms and sat back against a tree for a moment, shuddering with emotion.

I'm sorry you had to see that.

He waved an arm and shook his head, then ran his hands through his hair. He was still absorbing it, still coming to grips with what must be very conflicting emotions… seeing it from my perspective, knowing my motivations…all of them, no doubt… but also seeing one of the Volturi and knowing that if I had been like them, he'd already have killed. He would already be a monster. And through the whole vision he could see his own body starting to twitch in the background… taste the flavor of his own blood! It wasn't right.

"No one should have to see that."

He laughed derisively. "Well, my gift, as you call it, has a dark side. It's also my curse. One of my many new curses." I flinched at that, and he looked at me, not quite apologetically, but less accusatorily than I would have expected.

"It's fine, Carlisle. I understand now."

What do you understand?

He shook his head. He sat a few more moments, running his hands through his hair and crushing his palms into his forehead while I studied him. He slowly relaxed, and then cringed when he saw the blood on his shirt again. He got up and started slowly moving toward the house again.

"I'm still trying to comprehend why you're doing this… about the estate," he clarified, realizing I was still braced for some sort of onslaught for changing him, or making him see his own change. "I'll never be able to live in that house. Why bother inheriting it?" he asked wistfully.

My thoughts softened as I heard the pain in his voice. "You can't live there anytime soon, that's true, but you might be able to live there someday. And you certainly have more right to the possessions within the home than your distant relatives, who would likely not treasure them as you would." His face became hard and his eyes flashed. "So you see my motivation. Also, the way we live, it is nice to have some wealth at your disposal. I'm happy to share with you, but if you ever chose to leave me, you would need your own resources, and your youthful appearance will make it harder for you in certain professions. As you can see, there are many advantages to securing the estate." He nodded thoughtfully. "I could try to go alone, but you are going to have a much better idea of where the papers are likely located, and also, what items you value enough to take now. Once the quarantine has been lifted, someone is going to come and catalog the estate…if you want to remove anything, it would be best to do it before that happened."

He nodded again, slowly. "What did you mean about not breathing?"

"We don't need oxygen. You don't need to breathe, but it facilitates your sense of smell… a very important sense for us. So not breathing is uncomfortable, but hardly impossible. I've held my breath for hours, even as a newborn." He looked skeptical. "Try it," I encouraged.

He gave me a curious look, and then took a deep breath and held it. We walked the rest of the way to the house, went upstairs, and he started the bath again, making eye contact with me to show that he was being careful.

Is it uncomfortable, not breathing? He shrugged. I'll get you more clean clothes. Then after your bath, I have some things to show you. He nodded, and I realized that we would be able to communicate just fine if he decided to go to the house, as long as I remembered to use yes and no questions. He smiled slightly at my realization.

I returned a few moments later with the clothes and towels, and told him I'd be downstairs when he was done. I cleaned up the mess in the parlor, noting that the favorite records he'd broken consisted of three by Chopin, two by Bach, a Vivaldi and a Debussy. Easily replaced. I selected another Bach concerto to listen to during his bath, and when he came down a half hour later in clean clothes and damp hair, his expression was much more relaxed. He actually smiled at me as he exhaled.

You held that breath all that time?

"Yes, and it was easier than I thought it would be. That's good to know, for hunting."

"Well, you're young enough that once you've tasted the scent of human blood on the air, you might not have the willpower to hold your breath, but it is certainly something to try."

"What did you want to show me?"

"There on the table," I said, and continued reading my book so he'd have the illusion of privacy while looking through his meager possessions. I heard him gasp as he recognized his mother's ring. He sat slowly on the sofa, and fingered the ring delicately, caressing it, and slipping it onto the top of his finger. Then his hands clenched he buried his face in his fists, desperately fighting for some kind of control.

Be careful not to crush it, I reminded him. He nodded and set the ring gently back on the table, covering his face with his hands once more. I ached as I watched his suffering, not knowing whether to approach him, or give him more privacy… hoping that my silent vigil with him would be comforting rather than awkward. After a long moment, he picked up the cigarette case and opened it. To my surprise, several pictures fell onto the table. He picked them up with such care and love it was heartbreaking to watch.

"He gave up smoking several years ago. He continued to carry it so he'd have a safe place to hold these photos, and because everyone he knew still carried little silver boxes like this." He smiled affectionately at the memory, and I smiled too. "He still wanted to be like the rest of them. I think my mother gave him the box for one of their anniversaries." He picked up his father's ring, and rolled it around in his fingers. He flinched when it made a soft clink as he dropped it into his other hand, and the heirloom of his human life met with his vampire skin. "Where did you get these?"

"Those three items were at the hospital… the only possessions your parents had with them. I made sure to collect them before we left. The newspaper I bought today." He nodded and picked it up. He read the obituary several times, gliding his fingers over the text. Then he picked the pictures up again. His brow furrowed as he studied them. He placed them back in the silver box, and turned it slightly, watching how the light moved across the imperfections of the silver plate.

"I want to go to the house, Carlisle," he said softly after a few moments. "You're right; I want my parents' things…some of them at least. Thanks for getting all of this…" he held up the box. "It means a lot to me."

"We'll get the rest, Edward. If it's what you want, we'll make it happen. Let's get a few more hunting trips under your belt, and then we'll attempt it." He continued to study the silver box, turning over in his hands as he thought.

"Carlisle?" he asked quietly.

"Yes Edward?"

He sighed. "Would you teach me how to do laundry?"

I smiled and put my book down. "Follow me."