Thank You, Elvis Chapter Ten, a twilight fanfic

Edward

The moon was high when I finally arrived, her white face full, cheeks lifted in a smile. I put the car in park, some distance from the house, and then leaned back into the seat with a weary sigh.

What was I doing here?

I glanced out my window, watching the light dusting of snow, the crystals appearing like iced fairy dust as they were swept aside by the wind, each one turned silver in the spilled moonlight. Nearby, as I knew, a family of immortals played, wondering if I was the first of my coven to arrive. Their appointed leader, a lovely strawberry blonde, was eager, already gathering the others to her.

Edward, she called out, Would you be willing to join us? The rest of your family is invited as well.

I sighed, covering my face with my hands. God, Tanya! I didn't need this right now! My mind, so conflicted, so confused and yet sure, told me to go to the family --- I needed their help, after all. They were vital to my plan for escape, a necessity.

Carmen joined in. Edward, where have you been? You should see Tanya --- she's practically bouncing in joy! Please, join us. Her mental laughter filled the night at the image of Tanya rushing around, reddish hair bouncing along her back; her eyes were bright, mischievous.

I groaned, head falling back against the headrest. Why did she have to be so eager? I wasn't looking forward to having to reject her affections again, especially when the mere thought of being with another --- even the beautiful Tanya, or any of her sisters --- made me sick to my stomach; acid bubbled within me, and I clutched my abdomen.

I wasn't ready for this --- any of this.

But I needed answers.

My fist tightened on the steering wheel, and I felt the plastic give under my touch, molding to my fingers as if it was molten. I had to go inside and meet them, I knew this; I needed their aid, and I had to secure it before my once-upon-a-time coven arrived.

Tanya was still pleading with me, her mind both revoltingly suggestive and comforting --- I knew what to expect from her.

Opening my eyes, I looked outside. The moon had risen further, and glowed bright. Stars twinkled like tiny gems, white as crystals and hard as diamonds. They looked like scattered tears. Farther out, I saw a shooting star, its light flashing dangerously as it crossed the sky in a violent search for its end. I wondered, suddenly --- my thoughts tossed into haywire with the idea of that one little star chasing after the Reaper clothed in shadows --- whether I was subconsciously searching for my own demise, too, through this trip.

From Carlisle, I knew that the Volturi were volatile, their moods and affections shifting at a moment's notice; Aro, their leader, was especially unpredictable, taking an instant liking or dislike to a person.

When I had first been turned, I had been trapped in the outskirts of Chicago, held captive because of my newborn bloodlust. Carlisle had brought me endless piles of books, a piano, and told me of his --- our --- kind, and his life. Having spent decades with the vampire leaders, he had warned me of them. He told me that they were vicious, draining innocents, and cruel at times, killing without a second thought. I thought they were terrible beings, but cared more of my current life than a mystical, far-off one. I was selfish.

When I grew bored, months later, of the vampire tales and stories, their enchanting hold weaker than dusty talc, and I grew to hate what I had become, I had violent outbursts whenever he had mentioned anything pertaining to our current lives: hunting, moving, working, bloodlust, the covens. I had yelled and tore at my possessions, wrecking my room like an enraged toddler. Then, one day, he realized what I needed through trial and error: humanity.

I had dearly missed my soft skin and fallible nature, human food that was cooked and truly filling, and family and friends that I could actually remember. In my vampire mind, all of these memories were foggy; I knew facts, but couldn't recall faces or the actual memories. I was consumed with preserving that one speck of human life that beat within my breast.

One night, Carlisle had dragged my reluctant, trashing body outside. It was midnight, and in my vampire recollections, the events were as clear as photographs. I had sulked and whined, forever the puerile teenager, until Carlisle had sighed and pointed up at the sky.

"Watch," was all that he had said.

And, although I was evil, I complied. Moments later, after searching the sky, I spied a tiny, baby-like star streaking across the sky in a line of white. It was then that he told me about a tradition I had forgotten: wishing on a shooting star.

What would I have wished for now, if I could?

The words caught in my throat, their poisonous offspring --- want and need and desolate hope --- crawling down my esophagus and into my veins, and then my heart. Their spiny bodies poked holes in my ragged heart, and they began to feed off my suffering. Tiny screams bubbled up within my mouth, but were corralled by my sealed lips.

I heard a crack as something broke. Startled, I looked down to see the edges of the steering wheel had broken off and was already molding to the form of the inside of my hands. With a shout, I pulled away, tossing the twisted bits through the window --- it broke with a crackle and shower of frozen glass, the shards large and small and razor-sharp, reflecting and shining the moonlight --- into the snow. It traveled maybe a half-mile or so, and was soon covered, hidden beneath powdery snow and glittering glass, painted platinum and white in the soft light.

My breath whooshed as it was sucked out of me by some unseen entity, heart and lungs cooled by the wintery temperatures, killed by the venom of my maker. It felt as though my chest was constricted by a dozen ropes, or biting steel cables with white-hot centers. I tried to breathe, mouth opening and closing like a dying fish, but I couldn't! Instead, it was pulled from my unwilling lips by a phantom; my heart was burned by his glittering black claws as they dug into the tender flesh of my soul; my eyes stung with unshed venom tears that he hungrily licked away.

But somehow, I fought and managed to find a single pocket of air in the choking atmosphere. And then, with that tiny whisper of a breath, I called the name of the one person whom I knew I could trust, and who would care for me.

"Tanya."

I felt blinded, consumed by pain as I was, and my arms hugged my chest as the demon sucked the life and joy from me; darkness and dolor consumed my thoughts. My eyes burned, and I wanted to cry.

I knew she would come help me, and I had hoped she would immediately arrive. My mind cast out, searching for her thoughts --- Oh, I hope Edward decides to join us --- Should I wear blue, or butterscotch, to bring out my eyes? --- God, Garrett! Can it, you Abercrombie! --- Tanya, cool it. He'll be here soon --- Eleazar! Not now! --- lost in a jumbled mix of vampire whisperings.

With that hardly any air, I tried again. This time, a ragged sigh came forth, sounding nothing like her name. The phantom turned on me, claws digging deeper into my body.

You wanted this, it hissed, serpentine eyes flashing darkly. Feral teeth snapped. You pushed him away, and no you belong to me.

I tried to cry out, alert someone of the hallucination haunting me, for I knew deep inside it would vanish if someone would appear and help me, but my lips were sealed; my screams stayed silent.

Time passed in silence. The strange entity haunted me, laughing as it taunted and mocked me; I was sure that, already, I was beginning to go mad as a hatter! Shadows lurked in the corners of my mind, grinning at me wolfishly; they were held back by my mere hope and the monstrous hallucination; I knew, for these beings were a figment of my sinister imagination, that with a single command or break in my will, they would descend like the ravenous hounds of Hell.

My mind was set on Tanya's, alert, monitoring her every thought. Within ten minutes, she was moving to the window, preparing to spring outside and see why I hadn't left the car and visited them. I counted down the seconds as she internally debated the idea. Finally, anxious and worried, she told her family she was "checking up on me".

And I waited: breathless, suffering, and goddamn heartbroken.

When she had seen that I was still in the car, a look of fearful agony etched into my features, she immediately rushed out. The driver's door opened, metal pulling and twisting at her urgency, and her arms came around me. I sighed in relief when the shadows and phantom melted back into the corners of the woodwork and the edges of my terrified mind.

"Edward, what happened?"

I moaned, clutching my aching chest to hold the pieces of my broken heart together. I leaned toward her outstretched hand, eyes on her tumbling curls and golden eyes, the only parts of her that I could see. My vision was oddly blurry, but somehow clear --- like I was looking through a frosty window, the edges painted white with spider web ice and arctic lace, the center clear enough to see through.

Her thoughts turned frantic. Hands grabbed at me, pulling me to my feet; my head was cradled against her shoulder like a mourning child.

"Edward? I need you to talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

I looked up at her, the same fog obscuring the edges of my vision. I turned my head back against her shoulder once, and then pushed away from her. I stumbled, but held my footing.

She reached for me, eyes concerned. "Talk to me," she whispered. Her voice was tinged with grief, and her thoughts were flavored with honeyed sympathy.

Immediately, instinctually, I clouded my mind, protecting and preserving it from its fragile state. The pressure on my chest had lessened slightly, enough for me to shallowly breathe. I took a few breaths before whispering my needs to her.

"Tanya, I need you to take me to the Fairbanks. There's a man there who will get me where I need to go."

She froze, and then pulled me close. Her hands roamed over my chilled flesh, cold in the wintery temperatures, as she felt my forehead, tried to pat some life into my cheeks. What? "Edward, why? You're not in any condition to go, and ---"

"Tanya," I severely cut off, "Take me there, or I'll take the train. Either way, I'm leaving."

She sighed, staring into my eyes. I didn't want to know what she saw, so I kept my powers under a tight lock and key.

I began to plead, when I saw her lips twist in a sarcastic smirk. "Tanya, please ---"

"Fine. Get in the car." Move it, before I change my mind.

I sighed in relief. My body sagged against hers, molten under the combined force of the hallucinations and complete, utter loss. She moved to the passenger seat in a flash, helping me into the leather chair like one wounded. I suppose, in hindsight, I was.

"Thank you ---"

She cut me off. Her eyes burned like wicks, like determined fire as it consumed the wilderness without second thoughts of the damage rendered. They pieced and cut into me; I looked away, focused on the buckle in my hands.

"Don't go thanking me just yet, Edward. I want details and cold, hard facts. Tell me what the fuck is going on, because I know something's wrong, and I refuse to be kept out of the loop any longer." She paused. "I'll take you to Fairbanks, and that's it. It'll take some time, though, so you better fill me in." The or else remained unspoken and implied, echoing in her thoughts.

I shivered at the implications of her words and considered, for a single moment, taking everything back, covering my current predicament with babbling phrases, strung together like pearls, meant to please and smooth over tough situations; I knew I could do it. However, the one thing keeping me in the passenger seat, holding me with invisible bars of steel and molten fire and glacier ice from the crags of Pluto, was the dread of the returning monsters. And so, gripping the flimsy seat belt --- a string of frail spider silk to me, my strength and connection to reality --- tight in my palms --- dry and smooth as ever, but I imagined them slick with salty sweat, like my eyes, wet with dewdrop tears.

"Do you agree?"

I shook once more. My life was in her hands if I agreed, knowing her. But what could I do? I wet my lips, venom searing the shallow marks in my lip from the fierce lip-biting the past few days. I wondered, vaguely, if they would scar.

"Well?" Do you have an answer?

I looked up at her, hands still clutching at the fragile, all-powerful thread. Her eyes were still fire and brimstone. I needed an ally, and everything in the dark world of vampires was manipulation, territory and blood, and allies. Having lost my coven, I was now alone and vulnerable.

With a second reason to agree pounding --- throbbing --- inside my skull, I solemnly nodded my head.

"Yes," I whispered at first, and then said it once more, stronger, steadier. "Yes, Tanya. I agree."

XXX

"Why are you here?"

I curled into the padding of the seat like a lounging kitten, fingers pressed against my temples. Her mind was focused; there would be no stray thoughts in this argument.

I sighed, imagining tendrils of white smoke blooming from my mouth; if it was cold enough --- usually in areas of the Arctic Circle --- my family and kind could exhale and create delicious white roses, woven with silent wishes and dreams, in our breath. However, it was too warm here, at the end of autumn.

My eyes roamed around the moving features of the outdoors, cataloguing the trees and white mountain tops. We were traveling very fast --- close to one-twenty. "I don't know," I confessed.

Tanya frowned. She never had liked the unknown. "What do you mean, you don't know?" I know you have an answer. Tell me the truth, Edward.

I shook my head. No, I would never reveal the truth behind my actions to her --- to anyone.

"I mean that I came up here on a whim." Truth. "I just needed help." Another truth. "I don't have any idea why I left early, though." Lie.

"You don't?" Eyes flashed, lips curling in a satisfied smirk.

Keeping my breathing steady, I looked into her eyes. "No, I don't."

She switched tactics. "Where are you headed?"

"Europe."

She sighed. "Where in Europe?" Stop being a difficult ass!

"Where it's warm." How much longer could I avoid truthfully responding? I had a feeling that her temper would soon get in the way.

Her hands banged on the steering wheel. The plastic crunched and shifted under the force of her blows. "Goddamn it! Give me a straight answer and not some half-truth! I won't tell anyone, if it means that much to you, and help you out, alright?"

Smiling sadly, I said, "Thank you." An oath by a vampire was sound a true --- once the loopholes were filled, of course. My secret was safe in her hands; fingers twined nervously together as I opened my mouth to confess. "I'm going to Italy to visit the Volturi."

Rubber shrieked as the car jolted to a stop, swerving to the sides of the empty road.

"What?" Oh, you stupid, fucking moron! You imbecile! Do you have any idea what's in store for you when you arrive, and the chances of escaping their grasp? And why the Hell are you even considering heading there, to the cave of elusive, bloodthirsty beasts? Idiot, idiot, idiot! You'll be ripped to shreds ---!

"Tanya!" I yelped, grasping her shoulders. "Put the car in park and I'll explain."

She snorted. Oh, of course he can be calm, not knowing what's in store for him. 'Just put the car in park and sunshines and rainbows will sprout up as I tell you how I'm planning to escape enslavement' … Ha!

I held in a chuckle. "Just wait and listen. Please."

This time, with as much inner monologue, she complied. The door to her side opened and slammed shut, golden raspberry hair tossed haphazardly over one shoulder; pursed lips cried out insults and dry remarks. Her arms akimbo, eyes leering, she stood and waited as I pushed myself out of the car and onto the street, a slow, laborious process.

When I finally stood before her, leaning against the car for support, she came close. Her arms went around either side of my figure, pining me like a butterfly under glass. Teeth snapped near my ear as she whispered, deathly soft, "So, Edward, care to explain your grand plan to me?"

Carefully, I pushed her away. She was livid. "Actually, yes, I do. Don't worry --- I'll be fine --- but I do need to go there to find some vital information pertaining to my current predicament. I could always go to the Romanians, but why not gain the trust and support of the largest coven?"

"And what," Tanya hissed, "Is your current predicament?"

I licked my lips, staring at the road, bleached by years of salt and snow. I stalled anyway I could, using the human techniques of fidgeting and avoidance. Tanya wouldn't have that though --- she lacked the mothering instinct that had thrived within Rosalie and Esme --- and so there would be no beating around the bush.

I don't want another bull crap story! "Tell me the truth, Edward." Her fingers pushed up on my chin, forcing me to lift my head and look at her. "Tell me why you suddenly need to go to some murderers."

Morosely, I kicked at the ground. My shoes were beginning to get scuffed up. "I-I just need to, okay?"

She was silent for a moment, simply thinking. I was soon enveloped in the swift tide and ebb of her thoughts, some cool like sweet spring water, others as fiery and burning as a furnace. Immersed in her wonderings, I closed my eyes and smiled softly. Rarely, if ever, did I hide myself so deeply within another's mind, and once I did, I was able to forget all of my own thoughts; I became the person, so to speak. Her voice shook me out of that contentment, and I was thrust into the alarming world of the living.

"You're forever the teenager, huh?" Her golden irises gleamed with silvery strands, reminding me of the succubus she was, and how I had never thought of her, or any other female, as more than "pretty", but how that one male could be "gorgeous" and "perfect". I looked at her, studying my reactions for future knowledge.

By no means was Tanya less than beautiful --- her sisters and her had ensnared many human men before their diet changed, and after that the numbers only increased. Like Rosalie, she was lovely, a picture to look at, but was not the apple of my eye. With long, perfect curls of strawberry hue, and glowing golden eyes, smooth, even skin, she was nice enough to look at; her body, theoretically, was even better, with a wasp-thin waist, wide hips and a large bosom. With mile-high gams and a body stripped of any unnecessary fat, she was, in short, extremely keen.

So why did I feel nothing more than friendship when I looked at her? There was no sexual attraction, no lightning heating the air, when I saw her and touched her. I felt no desire to neck her or hold her close. I didn't want to create a life with her. I didn't want her like that.

Shocked by the discovery, I pinched my nose. Tanya made to speak, but I held up my hand.

Perhaps she wasn't my mate, and that was why I didn't desire her. Maybe I would find my own mate when I want to Italy, or traveled to the other covens; it was a possibility. And my family members were just that --- family. It would be very, very wrong to want one who I saw as a sister or mother.

Satisfied, I nodded slightly. After I discovered the mysteries of the Volturi sexuality, I would look for my mate. However, there was one last thing I had to try to be sure.

I looked down at poor, confused Tanya. Her eyebrows were drawn, nose slightly crinkled at the bridge as she asked herself, What the Hell is he planning?

Oh, Tanya, if only you knew.

Gathering my courage, I took a deep breath and exhaled. The air was fresh and crisp, lightly spiced with the too-sugary decay of leaves and faint traces of blood from the animals, from the humans. I could almost smell the winter as it prepared to come upon us. And then, I spoke: "Tanya, will you allow me to kiss you?"

She gaped like a fish, eyes wide; she had not expected that. "What?"

To keep my fingers from nervously twisting and twining, I thrust my hands in my pockets. Resolutely, I kept my eyes on her.

"Tanya, as a friend, I'm asking you to let me try something. It's … a strange request, I know, but it's important all the same. I'm asking you as a lovely young woman to kiss me as a man, but only if it won't affect our current relationship." There. I had said it.

Those pretty golden eyes got even wider. She blinked, pouting; a hand rested on her forehead, as if she had a headache. "Excuse me for a moment. Did I just hear you ask me for a passionate kiss, after which we plan to just stay friends?" I must be losing my hearing! There is no goddamn way Edward would ever ask for such a thing --- ever!

I ran a hand through my hair; embarrassment flooded my veins. "Tanya, I realize that this is extremely rude of me, and I apologize. I'm just having some …" How could I phrase it? "Romantic difficulties at the moment that I need to figure out. I'm sorry for having offended you."

She stared and stared, never moving from her position, like a marble statue. The seconds passed slowly, each one a counted boom in the stillness. Then, suddenly, she burst out in silvery laughter.

"Oh, Edward!" she giggled, hands clutching at her abdomen. "I would've never, ever expected something like that from you! No, don't leave ---" she grabbed my arm to stop me from returning to the car "--- I'm just shocked, that's all. Really, really surprised, but pleasantly so."

Cat-like eyes observed my minute fidgets, oddly hungry. "You know Edward, I have to say that I'm not at all … opposed to the idea," she purred, fingers caressing the underside of my wrist. I gulped, considering drawing back behind the barriers --- where it was safe.

"I've liked you for quite some time, you know. I've just … given up hope that you might return my affections." She paused, placing a hand on my chest. It didn't make me desire her, or feel anything more than sisterly love; in fact, I was slightly repulsed. Should I pick up her hand gingerly, like one would with a many-legged, spidery insect, and throw it back at her, like I wanted to? Or should I remain the gentleman and allow her unwanted advances to continue; only stopping her when they endangered her virtue, or my own?

Internally, I grumbled. Damn instilled values!

Her hand snaked its way behind my neck, and she lured me closer, pulling my reluctant frame close; I could feel her breath beat against my lips, whispering, Open.

I kept my mouth shut --- tightly: locked, chained, sealed.

Feathered lashes --- too thick and dark for my tastes --- fluttered as she spoke. "I'll take any chance I can with you, Edward; who could resist a man like you? And," she drew closer still, lips gently pressing against my own, "I'm always ready for more … experiments you might want to conduct."

Gulping, I forced myself to look at her, and nod. It was for the sake of science.

Her eyes widened, and she tentatively pressed her lips against my own --- I, still as carved stone --- and when she wasn't instantly rejected, enthusiastically began to kiss me. Her lips twisted and twined against my own until I was coaxed into responding; then, I followed through with the motions, but there was no drive, no passion behind them.

It was only when her slimy tongue began to trace my bottom lip that I gave into my true desires and pushed her away. Face averted, I only just stopped myself from wiping my lips and ridding myself of her too-eager kisses, or --- even worse --- spitting on the ground. Through her mind, I saw myself, a disgusted look on my face. For her sake, I schooled my features into a somewhat more pleasant grimace.

It was, unfortunately, nothing like kissing Jasper.

Like comparing the night and day, or fire and ice, Tanya's kisses were painful --- and her beetle-length nails scratched oddly against my neck --- while Jasper's were … refreshing, and sweet … and full of fire, and lightning, and electricity.

The only plausible explanation I could come up with was that she was too much of a sister to me for any romance to occur. And although she had seemed to enjoy it, perhaps she saw me as something more --- a potential mate, maybe.

But now I knew for sure: she was not my mate.

I looked at Tanya, her face a cold mask, her eyes nervous and burning. She knew the truth; there was no need to voice it and add vinegar to the wound.

But I still ducked my head and apologized, much to her anger.

"Edward!" she burst out, and in her mind, I saw her shaking some sense into me. "Don't fret! We're obviously not compatible that way and better off as friends than lovers or mates. Besides, I didn't even feel a spark." Her eyes betrayed her lie.

I sighed, and she rushed me back into the car, peppering me with reassuring comments, all the while silently crying inside her mind. I wanted to make her feel better, but I was afraid: too much emotion and womanly hormones terrified me, a subconscious emotion inspired by Rosalie and Tanya's wild tempers and sudden mood swings. And I was also afraid that I would say the wrong thing and make it worse, or even loose her friendship, something I highly valued.

We drove in silence, her hands on the wheel and my palm on her shoulder. I rubbed circles into her arm, occasionally awkwardly taking her hand. She told me all about the Volturi, and I listened appreciatively, and then told her an edited version of my tale while she, in turn, listened. All the while, the miles melted away and within an hour's time, we had arrived at Fairbanks.

I had no real luggage, only a tiny, borrowed bag with my needed possessions; taking it in one hand, I left the car and entered the small home of the pilot; nearby, a ragged-looking airplane stood, waiting to be tested. It would only take me to the next man, who dwelled in Canada. From there, I would fly to New York, and then catch a flight to Europe, and finally fly to Italy.

Tanya waited as I talked and persuaded the pilot, and then stood by me as the man wearily prepared the propeller plane. I tried to catch her eye numerous times, but she wouldn't let me.

We finally were ready to leave hours later, a hefty paycheck warming the man's pocket, around eight o' clock; the stars were high then, the night already beginni. I sighed as I shoved my bag in the back of the plane. If there was one thing I didn't miss about Alaska, it was the absurdly early sunsets and late sunrises of the winter; I, ironically, loved seeing the sun, and couldn't get enough of it. The dark was a time of lurking and sneaking, but the day --- ah, the day! --- was living, breathing; a time when people walked and talked, fragile hearts thrumming like hummingbird wings and propellers, and the air was sweetened with sunlight, gaining the flavor of honey. I adored watching sunsets and sunrises, seeing the colors wash over the sky with a master painter's skill. And each morning and night, they were different, never the same in my thirty-some years!

However, I always watched, never playing in the dancing, shimmering light, never lounging in its warmth. And it was the riskiest time of the day --- not at all like dusk, or midnight, where we vampires we safe in the dark shadows, unable to give away our inhuman nature.

I looked at Tanya. Unlike me, she lived for the night --- the mystery, as she called it. Her and her sisters used to dance beneath the moon and trace constellations with their fingers, when they weren't with their men, of course. They always seemed to feel comforted when cloaked in night's cool embrace, wrapped in pitch and silver. My family members, too, rejoiced in the night as well, but also in the day; I shied away from the first.

Maybe I was always odd, and never noticed it.

The man called out to me, voice hoarse from decades of smoking. "Are you com'n or not?"

Sighing, I reached for my dearest friend. It was only through her complacent mood that I snagged it at human speed, aware of the watching man. She refused to look at me, but allowed me to continue --- the pilot thought of us as a quarreling couple, and I suppose at that moment we resembled one. I kissed her cheek, my only way of thanking her, and boarded the rickety plane.

However, when I turned around and looked out the window, she was already gone.

Abercrombie (n): know-it-all

Evil (v): in a bad mood

Mad as a Hatter (adj): to go crazy; to become insane

Gams (n): legs

Keen (adj): attractive, appealing

Neck (v): to kiss with passion

A/n: Boy, am I glad motherly Rosalie was well-recieved, but I'm curious of what you'll think of Tanya, though. Hmm ...

Major thanks to Touchstone, Starfish422, and mozzer0906 for their recs on this fic! They can be found at Twislash Unveiled and Fictionators. AND! I have a thread! Very happy right now :) Love you reviewers --- you make my day!

Reviewers get a preview of next chapter ;) We're talking ITALY baby!