A/N: Hello, my darlings. Yes, yes Marc is back. (Contented sigh….) And for that reason (and because I love you) I have been hard at work to comprise an extra long chapter full of very much needed and long overdue Emma/Marc time. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, it's characters or anything to do with it. Stephenie Meyer does, and I love her for it.
I could follow you to the beginning, just to relive the start
And maybe then we'd remember to slow down at all of our favorite parts
All I wanted was you, all I wanted was you
-Paramore
16: Paths
A million things passed across his face and flashed in his eyes. A million questions, a million emotions. I could identify each and every last one of them. I could see the shock and disbelief in his eyes as his finger tips ghosted over my ice cold cheek. I could see the confusion and absolute acceptance, the hurt and relief as he wondered why I had hid away all these years. How I could be standing before him now on a busy street in Baltimore when I had been dead to the world. And the dismissal of it all for the sheer fact that I was there.
I could see it all in his deep blue eyes. A sharp exhale pushed from his lungs and his heart rate increased.
"Emma…" he breathed, the last syllable of my name hushed and hanging from his lips.
In some back corner of my mind, I remembered Alice. I looked quickly behind me, instantly missing the contact with Marc. As urgently as I could, my eyes swept the street and sidewalk behind me, not finding her anywhere. Alice had gone, taking the bags I had been carrying. I turned back to Marc, his hand still hanging in mid air from where it had rested on my cheek. Instinct told me that we needed to move away from here. I didn't know where, only that we should not be in public. I was here in front of him, for the first time in a decade, alive and breathing. And he would need an explanation. It was too late not to. There was no hiding from this, no way of slipping away and melding with the shadows of the tall buildings that surrounded us.
I looked directly into his eyes, focusing on them entirely. Deep and clear, open for me to see to the very depths they held. I gently raised my hand and took his, hesitantly, and never breaking my gaze from his. My fingers slowly and softly closed around his, holding them carefully as I peered into his eyes. Silently seeking his trust and permission to lead him away from here.
I slowly brought our hands down and gently tugged. Without any effort, his feet moved in my direction. Again, I begrudgingly broke our gaze to search around us. But where would we go? All that was around us were businesses and apartments. There were too many people, walking up and down the sidewalk, entering and exiting shops, idly staring at items perched in windows. Traffic buzzed passed us on the busy street, the occasional horn sounding impatiently. The impending conversation, the delicate explanation to come was not one to be held in some side street or coffee house. But that was all that surrounded us now. Two blocks down, I could see the top of my truck, parked along the bustling sidewalk.
I turned back to Marc, his warm hand still in mine. His eyes still full of wonderment and confusion, and still fixed on me.
"Come with me." I breathed.
My hand squeezed a little tighter around his as I pulled him up the walkway, his warmth burning into it and radiating up my arm. I pulled the passenger door open and turned back to him. It was only then that I wondered if he would be willing to follow me this far. If he would trust me enough. I stood with the door open and my hand still securely wrapped around his. My breath was coming in slow and shallow as I searched his face and eyes once more for his permission. But without hesitation he moved forward and slid into the seat. We stared at each other for a while longer before I slowly closed the door and made my way over to the driver's side. My breathing came in deeper as I slowly climbed into my seat, holding his gaze.
There were rules to be followed. There were secrets that were not mine to tell. But how was I to explain my existence to him now? How was I to explain to him how I was here with him at this very moment, seemingly alive and breathing and not having aged a day since he had last seen me? How I appeared exactly the same as I did a decade before? He deserved an explanation. He deserved answers. But how much would I be allowed to tell him? And how much would I be able to keep from him?
"There's something you need to see." I breathed, and turned the ignition.
We drove through the city streets, heading west toward the open lands, toward my home. His breathing and heartbeat slowed, becoming more controlled, but he continued to gape. The shock and surprise that had plagued his features and consumed his eyes had began to wane, and given way to a more controlled stare, filled with now coherent questions.
"It's really you…." he asked quietly. His eyes locked on me, almost as if he were waiting for me to disappear.
"Yes." I said.
He was very still in his seat, his breathing deep and slow.
"How?" he breathed, his voice barely audible.
We had driven past city lights, past residences and had now reached a more remote location. I stared straight ahead, my eyes on the broken yellow lines that dotted the two-lane highway. What was I supposed to tell him? If Alice had orchestrated our meeting, as I now would have bet that she had, did that mean I could be completely honest with him? Was I to answer every question truthfully, without restraint or hesitation? Was I to divulge every last detail of what I had become and subsequently of our kind? Was I to break the rules? Edward had. Edward had broken the rules just the same, and revealed the nature of his existence to Bella when she was human. And consequently drew the attention of the Volturi.
From my understanding, there would not be much they would trouble us for. They had wrongfully accused my family before I had come to them, and were exposed for their corruption. But what if I broke the rules now? Would I be held accountable? Would he? Marc remained still in his seat and continued stare, awaiting my answer. His breathing became increasingly shaky, but still deep and slow as he maintained control. I slowly pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the engine.
"Marc?" I asked quietly.
"What?" he breathed.
He deserved an explanation. He deserved an answer. For ten years he walked through the world with the knowledge that I had disappeared. That I had died and moved on from this earth only to be sitting here now, in my truck, talking to him.
"Give me your hand…." I whispered.
His face became controlled, focused. His breathing was deep, and unwavering. And slowly, but certainly, he raised his hand and offered it to me, palm up.
I reached out hesitantly. He couldn't have noticed how hard and unyielding my skin had been earlier. He would have mistaken the cold of my skin for the crisp fall evening. He couldn't have known that it was as ice because blood did not course through me to warm it. And when he were to notice now, what would his reaction be? If he were to know the truth, what could I expect him to say?
My fingers lingered centimeters from his. I could feel his heat resonating in the air and burning into me. Finally, with one last intake of breath, I closed the distance. I gently placed my hand in his, not removing my gaze from them. Not wanting to see the recognition on his face, in his eyes.
"Do you feel how cold my hand is?" I whispered.
"Yes." he replied.
I gently dragged my finger tips along his open palm.
"What else do you notice?" I asked, my voice barely audible.
His brow creased, and a slight confusion returned to his eyes.
"Do you remember what color my eyes were, Marc?" I breathed.
His breath was steady, deep and slow. I could feel his eyes on me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his creased brow begin to pull up in the center.
"Blue." he whispered.
He deserved an answer. He deserved the truth. Slowly, I raised my eyes from our clasped hands to meet his. In the dim light, I hoped he would see the difference in them clearly enough to understand. To realize that my existence was for reasons beyond his probable guesses.
"And what color are they now?" I asked quietly.
He stared into my eyes intently. And before he could react, before he could register what he was seeing, I took the opportunity to burn this moment into my memory. To etch into my brain the feeling I had being here with him, just sitting with him and looking up into his eyes. To have him looking into mine. His scent had filled the cab of my truck and drowned me. I wanted to seer it into my mind, and remember how it felt. If he were to react badly, if the truth would be too much for him to bare, I would at least have this moment. And with perfect clarity, I would replay it over and over. Forever.
His eyes moved over mine, examining them. His brow creased slightly once more and his eyes began to roam over my face.
"Did you get contacts?" he asked.
Contacts?
"What?" I asked, suddenly confused. "No, Marc…."
I looked into his eyes, and steadied myself. We had moved in closer in our conversation. I could feel his breath wisp over my face, his hand was still gently clasped around mine. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
"Marc, I…. I haven't aged a day since you last saw me… I haven't aged since you knew me in Kodiak." I whispered slowly.
I opened my eyes to see his roaming over my features, taking in my words and struggling to understand them.
"I haven't aged a day in ten years." I said.
His breath was still slow and deep, his heart still beat slow and calm and he looked me straight in the eyes, his brow still slightly creased. Gently I moved his hand closer to me and pressed it to my chest, over my heart.
"My heart has not beat in ten years…." I whispered.
He stared at our hands, pressed tightly to me, and then back to my eyes. His lips parted slightly and the crease deepened between his eyes. We stared at each other a moment longer. I could see him piecing together my words and trying to make sense of them. I could see the confusion in his eyes. Understanding what my words implied, but not seeing how they could be truthful.
"I died, in Kodiak." I breathed.
"But…" he whispered. His shook his head slightly. "No."
"Yes….I did." I nodded.
"But you're here." he breathed.
I nodded again.
"You're here." he said again, louder.
I looked at him for a long time, and then down at our hands, clasped over my heart. He deserved an answer.
"There's something you need to see." I whispered again and opened the door.
Confused, he followed suit. I walked around to his side and took his hand again. It was in the early hours of the morning. Soon, the sun would begin to rise. It would be a clear, bright morning with no clouds to obstruct the fresh light. Soon, he would see.
"I don't know how else to explain to you….Something happened, in Kodiak." I told him. "I'm not the same."
I looked up at him, he was still lost in my words, trying desperately to make sense of them.
"When I died…. How I died…. I changed." I said.
"Emma," he breathed, "I don't understand."
The sky was getting lighter, glowing at the horizon and heralding the sun's rise.
My breathing was becoming more and more shallow, tasting the dew on the ground around us, and wisps of his warm scent. He deserved to know. At the very least, he deserved some part, some form of the truth. I took another breath, deeper this time, and brought the words to my lips.
"I'm not…human." I said. "Not anymore."
He continued to look into my eyes, his hand was still wrapped warmly around mine.
"How can you not be?" he breathed.
I looked down at the ground between us.
"Emma." he breathed, leaning down to meet my eyes again. I took a deep breath.
"There are some things in this world…some things you think only exist in movies…that actually do exist. That are real." I whispered.
The horizon burned lighter and lighter as the sun climbed higher along the earth, and soon it would break over the line and cast our surroundings in its light. I took a step back from him, letting go of his hand. His eyes followed me as I removed my jacket and began rolling up my sleeves.
"Emma.." he began.
"I'm not the same, Marc." I said.
Overhead, the sky lightened to a light blue. He took a step toward me.
"I was changed."
He kept walking toward me.
"What I am now…" I said, "I'll be forever."
Behind me, the sun broke over the horizon, sending blinding rays of light over the field we stood in and catching the many facets of my skin. Thousands of small rays of light refracted off my arms and neck and shone brightly. I could see them reflecting off me, and onto Marc. I could see them shimmer in the reflection of his eyes. He stopped mid-step and his eyes widened.
"I'm not the same." I said again.
His lips parted and his wide eyes roamed over me, taking in every bit of exposed skin as it shimmered and gleamed in the fresh morning light. I studied his face, searching his eyes for any sign of horror. Waiting to see the first traces of fear touch his features. But none came. He just stood in front of me and took in all he could see. After a long moment, his eyes returned to mine. Burning brightly in the direct sunlight and burning with something else that seemed like determination. He had began breathing again, slow, deep and controlled, but his heart raced. He looked directly into my eyes and slowly placed one foot in front of the other. Slowly, he came to stand in front of me, only inches away. His hand came up to rest on my cheek just as before. His eyes followed his finger tips as they carefully ghosted over my skin, marveling at the effect of the sun.
My breathing was shallow and uneven as I looked up at his face, as I felt his fingers leave trails of fire against my skin.
"How…..?" he breathed.
"Marc, I'm…." my voice hitched.
I didn't know how to proceed further. I didn't know what to tell him next. His eyes searched mine, looking deep into them as his palm rested low on my jaw. His fingers rested on my neck and his thumb brushed along my cheek, resting at the base of my ear. His face hovered above mine as he examined my features, his warmth enveloping me with such proximity. For years, I dreamt wide awake. I would lose myself in fields of swaying grass, imagining ordinary moments between us. Escaping into illusions of an impossible future, an eternity of finding all those things dearest to me. Living in the revelry of the contentment they brought. And now, out of some miracle or cruel irony, I stood in an open field as a soft crisp breeze gently wound its way through my hair. The sun rose steadily in a clear, unobstructed sky just as I had always imagined. And he was here. By some divine miracle, or cruel fate, he was finally here with me.
And yet still, we were separated. Still, something stood between us, holding us apart. When I told him, when I found a way to explain, it would give an name and face to our obstructer. When I told him finally, it would dash away this moment, just as I had finally found it. I looked deep into his clear eyes. Allowing myself to be pulled in entirely by their gravity. Allowing myself to fall into them and stay a while before I uttered words that would cast this moment away. Words that would cause it to vanish and slip into the ether. To become another impossible illusion.
His eyes were pleading. They silently voiced every question and need for an explanation. His blazing thumb trailed along my cheek again. I steeled myself knowing the time to come was inevitable. Selfishly praying I could make this moment last. That I didn't have to lose him all over again. I wished, with everything in me that it didn't have to be this way. After all, how could I expect him to stay.
My eyes roamed over his face, taking in how it had aged. His dark, wavy hair falling carelessly on his forehead, his perfectly straight nose, his beautifully full lips and the dark fire of his eyes. I felt it seer into me. The image imprinting itself on every surface, on every last layer and blazing with clarity. With one last breath, I took his face in both my hands.
"Marc…." my voice was hushed, not wanting to speak the words I willed it to.
"Marc, I…" My voice broke and fell away. It shook under the pressing weight of the impending devastation.
His hand moved up my face, his finger tips tracing lines again, feeling along the planes of my cheekbones.
"You died." he whispered.
I nodded once.
"But you're here now." he breathed. "You came back…"
My breath was drawn in deep and trembling.
"I never left." I whispered.
His eyes tightened slightly, the same glimmer of determination flashing in them as before, steeling himself.
"What happened in Kodiak?" he whispered.
His heart was still pounding, and his breathing increased slightly. My eyes dropped from his, and my hands slipped from his face. My finger tips lingering along the edge of his jaw before falling in front of me.
"I'm afraid if I tell you… you'll run." I whispered.
The crease between his eyes returned and his breathing deepened.
"Why would I do that?" he asked.
His hand dropped to mine, holding it up so that it caught the light. He turned it slowly so that it shimmered and twinkled.
"I haven't ran yet." he said quietly.
I watched as he slowly turned my arm in the light and brought my eyes back to his. They were earnest and pleading.
"Tell me…" he said
His eyes were so certain. So sure of his words, so assured of himself that he could bare whatever I told him. He had no way of knowing what he sought. He couldn't possibly have been so positive that he could withstand it. But he stayed now, even as I glowed like a giant human disco ball. Through the absurdity and shock of it all, he had not ran yet. He had moved closer.
"Tell me." he pleaded again, his voice barely a whisper. "Why did you leave….?"
"I didn't want to leave." I said firmly. "I didn't want this, I wanted…"
I looked down at his hand gently clasped around mine. I slowly wrapped it in both of mine, my skin absorbing his warmth.
"Do you believe that there are some stories, some fictions… that are based in truth?" I asked quietly.
I could see him nod silently, willing me to continue.
"There was a man, named William. He found me that day on the mountain. I had been…attacked. I thought it was bear….I thought I was being mauled, but …it was him."
I looked up to see Marc's face. "He was like how I am now…and when he attacked me, I became like him."
Marc's eyes tightened with questions. His lips began to move, to voice his need for elaboration, but I continued.
"When woke up, after I had changed…" I remembered the burning. I remembered being lost in invisible flames as the change took place. But I thought to leave that part out.
"My heart had stopped. And I was extremely sensitive to everything around me… I could taste the air as I breathed it in, I could hear the tiniest, faintest sounds very clearly… and I could see for miles in the dead of night." I told him, watching his face carefully.
"I could run, faster than the wind without tiring…I thought it was Heaven.
I could smell….everything. From miles away…."
I kept my eyes on his, waiting to see what I had warned him of. Waiting to see what I feared the most.
"I could smell….blood."
Marc's attentive eyes crumpled in confusion.
"Your blood?" he asked slowly.
"No."
The crease between his eyes deepened.
I stared into his eyes, and felt my face fall solemn.
"Miles away from me… there was a bear." I edged. "I could smell it. I could smell its blood…I could hear it pumping, pulsating in the air…."
His eye's stayed on mine, carefully analyzing my words.
"It became everything. The only thing, in the entire world….My throat burned. As if someone had shoved a hot coal in my mouth. It was insane how much it burned… and how badly I…. How badly I needed it to stop." I said.
"I wanted the blood." I whispered.
Marc did not move. His breathing slow and steady, but shallow. His face was controlled and his eyes were still on me.
"Marc, do you understand what I'm telling you?" I asked in a whisper.
All at once I wanted him to say yes, and all at once I wanted him to say nothing at all. I wanted him to know the truth, but was terrified of what that knowledge might bring. There was a sudden want in me for him to know exactly what I had become, exactly what I was changed to, that warred with my fears. I wanted him to see all of me, to have nothing hidden, nothing kept from him. So that he would know the truth. And yet I didn't.
I watched his face carefully, the blood had began to trickle down and drain from it, causing him to be a shade paler. His breathing faltered slightly, hitching quietly. But he kept it slow, and shallow, controlled. His face was a mask of controlled calm, but his eyes were clear. I could see in them his effort to remain calm and restrain a growing panic. I could see the pieces being placed together, I could see every word I spoke take effect. One by one. I could see him understand.
The inevitable had come, as I knew it would. Our time had ended. Just as our paths crossed once more, they set off again in different directions. Never intertwining, never interlacing, always separate. I nodded slowly, dropping my eyes from his. I couldn't blame him. I could never blame him. Our hands were still folded together. At any moment, he would leave, and the wonderful burn his warmth provided would linger for only just a while before my skin would grow cold again. Unable to retain the heat.
But his hands stayed in mine. He didn't move. He must be frozen with shock.
"Can you smell my blood?" He whispered, so very quietly.
"Yes." I admitted.
I closed my eyes, not wanting to see him leave. He could take my truck if he wanted. But I didn't want to see. If anything, I didn't want that image.
I felt his hands slip from mine.
Without my permission, beyond my control, my breathing hitched and a small, sharp exhale pushed from my lungs. I closed my eyes tight against the feeling in my core. It felt as if everything were draining from me, like a tide going out. Being pulled out further to sea, to build into a very familiar swell.
He had not left just yet. I could still feel his body heat in front of me, burning through me. I could hear his heart thudding loudly against his chest, and his breath moving in and out of his lungs. And of course, I could smell him. Light, fresh and mellow. It swirled around me lazily, and wrapped me in its caress. I sank in it as the swell built somewhere off in the distance.
But then the fire from his body came closer, burning into my bones, moving through me in pulsating currents and I felt his warm hands tentatively cup either side of my face. They pulled it up, willing me to face him.
"Look at me." he demanded softly.
Slowly, and hesitantly, I opened my eyes.
His eyes were slightly wild. I could see a war between fear and his control raging behind them. His hands trembled slightly, but he was relatively composed. The same glimmer of determination I had seen in his eyes earlier returned, and he looked me squarely in mine.
"All this time..?" he breathed. His creased brow pulled up in the center. His mouth opened to speak, but it closed again and he swallowed hard.
"I understand…if this is too much." I said, my voice thick and low. "I would understand….if you left now. If you wanted to put it all behind you….forget."
His eyes flashed and hardened slightly. His head began to shake from side to side.
"I don't want to leave…" he breathed. "I don't want to leave you… I feel like you're going to disappear."
His eyes were so certain. So sure of his words. His hands so steady on me.
Music started playing. Low and clanky.
What the fuck?
Marc jostled slightly, his eyes traveling down to my right pocket.
"Your phone." he choked.
I didn't have a ringtone. I had always left it on vibrate…
"Just gonna stand there and watch me burn, but that's alright because I like the way it hurts…"
God dammit, Emmett.
I looked down and quickly fished my phone out of my pocket and looked at the screen. A small white envelope with the name "Alice" appeared.
There's tons of food stocked at the house. And no one is there ;)
I stared blankly at the screen. I loved Alice very dearly, but at the moment I felt a very strong urge to hurt her. Why had she done this? Why had she forced this wound open? And why was she sending me a message now that only concerned Jacob and Nessie's food supply?
Just then, I could here something from Marc's stomach. It gurgled and churned.
I understood.
It must have been several hours since he had eaten, we had been out here a very long.
"You're hungry." I said.
"I'm fine…" he said. "I don't feel very hungry."
I doubted that he would, given the intensity of the night and this morning. He would not feel very much like eating, but his body needed sustenance.
"You need to eat something…" I said, looking back at my truck.
He was still standing inches away from me, his hands hanging at his side. Carefully, I took one in mine.
"There's food…at my house. You can eat breakfast." I offered tentatively. "If you'd like."
Marc's eyes lingered on our hands for a while, the glimmering light reflecting off of mine and casting multi-colored rays onto his. His eyes came up to meet mine. They were calm and clear, a flame of determination flickering in the back of them. He stared into my eyes for a long moment, as he drew in a slow breath. His face smoothed and he nodded slightly.
"Okay." he said.
It wasn't a very long drive to the house, it would only be a few minutes, and no one else would be home. We usually kept a large variety of "human" food stocked for Jacob (who ate most of it) and Nessie. Carlisle suggested they keep a balanced diet between normal food and hunting animals.
I didn't know what came next. I didn't know where we went from here, only that I didn't want it to end. I didn't know how this was supposed to go, or if it even would. I only knew that I didn't want to part from him. And he felt the same. I knew what he meant when he said he didn't want to leave. I felt as if I looked away, if he were gone from my sight for just a second, he would disappear. It all felt so fragile and uncertain. But he was here. Alive and breathing, Marc was here. And his hand was in mine.
Whatever it meant, whatever it was, I didn't know what came next. So we would take it as it came, and go slowly. We would start off easy, with breakfast.
As we made our way to the truck, I quickly tapped my thumb against the screen of my phone. Typing out a short, concise message and selecting Alice's name before hitting send.
We are going to talk.
A/N: Oh sweet reunions! Sweet, difficult and delicate explanation filled reunions! There's a lot to be worked out between these two. A lot of heart to heart moments will be needed. And Alice? Alice is in need of a heart to heart as well. Stayed tuned my lovies. I have plenty more to share. Please click the review button and leave me some sugar. I see you readers over there in Romania! Don't think I haven't noticed. I want to hear from you. Give some feedback. Love you all!