Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer nor do I lay claim to any of her accomplishments, characters included.
That being said, I am Emberlyn Ealise and other than character names I do own all ideas behind Lines on Paper. Any thievery will result in the end of any and all works under my name on this site and depending on how popular I become that may be an issue for possible future fans. If you wouldn't steal babies then don't steal stories. Ask any writer, it's practically the same thing.

Lines on Paper
Emberlyn Ealise

"And how did that make you feel?" asks Carlisle. He can be a real jerk when he wants to, like now as he's fighting back a laugh at my current situation. His pale face is uncharacteristically pink around the cheek area and every now and again I can see a wrinkle form in one of his laugh lines as a corner of his mouth begins to twitch. The last patient must have given him a warm batch of special brownies. That or he's finally gotten one of the cooks to put out. I can see how the Good Doctor might enjoy the sight of stockings and hair nets though the thought does nothing for my current mood.

I glare at his humorous expression thinking to myself of how ridiculous I was for requesting to see him immediately after yesterdays mind boggling issue. If I had just calmed down and given it some real thought I would have put two and two together to get four rather than blame the aliens for the abduction of my erection. There are still four more days before I would have been required to sit in this chair and listen to him talk down to me. I prefer the down talking to the way he is now making fun of me. "Like I should punch a doctor," I answer. He merely shakes his head and jots down some nonsense. At this point I'm not even sure he's capable of constructing a coherent thought and I muse over the idea that he could just be drawing naughty cartoons.

"Edward, Edward, Edward…" I still haven't figured out his fascination with saying my name three times. The only purpose it could possibly serve is to further annoy me until I really do punch the doctor. I have a history of violence. It could happen. "We do these things for you safety and for the safety of the young ladies attending as well. Many of the males in attendance are in less control of their urges than they believe themselves to be and we must protect against mishaps."

He's still holding back the amusement I see clearly in his eyes. "Then you should be passing out that stuff to those in need when it comes time for meds before bed, not slipping it into Monday's meatloaf and making the rest of us suffer," I grumble, "I thought something was wrong with me, other than the usual." My argument has no basis. I understand we they do it and I see the benefit. I just don't like it.

Carlisle puts down his notebook and pin to make eye contact with me. "Alright, you give me a good reason why it is necessary for you or any other male in this school to have an erection and I'll see what I can do about changing the rule," he holds up one finger, "Just one good reason."

He waits. There isn't a good reason. The only real reason for an erection is to be able to create life which I'm too young to be doing and truly have no desire to do. It would be just my luck that whatever female I chose would give birth to the most aesthetically pleasing bundle of joy only to have it cut our throats in our sleep years later. Yeah, sign me up for that.

When I don't respond he nods. "Why don't we back up a little bit then? You said it was during down time in the common room when the urge struck you, is that correct?" I nod and he continues. "What were you doing exactly?"

"I was relaxing," I answer knowing it's not what he is searching to find.

"I hardly think the act of winding down after a hard day of sleeping through your classes was cause for you want or need an erection. I want to know physically what was happening around you, to you, in your head. We're looking for contributing factors here to help you."

"I don't need help. I thought there was something wrong with me medically because I couldn't get it to do what I thought it should but I now know that it's all because of you and its fine. I didn't need it anyway," I brood. My arms are folded across my chest like a petulant child and I refuse to make eye contact. This school has done enough to me without my letting its faculty toy with me like some pet. I can't give him the satisfaction of knowing that it kills me to have this taken from me. He can't see how much I want to be like a normal boy and do normal things like masturbate when I find that I am consumed by impure thoughts of the most divine nature. It's not any better than admitting defeat.

The carpet is new. I'm not sure how new since I haven't really noticed it lately but I remember it was once a dingy brown while now I find it to be a dark beige. Maybe someone finally got around to washing it and this was what lay underneath all along. It certainly smells better than it did on my first visit but some of that can be attributed to the fact that Carlisle is now a reformed smoker. The many ash trays he once used now hold colored beads though not the kind you would find at Mardi Gras.

Carlisle stands and walks around his desk the way that he does when he wants be to feel like he's my friend and not my doctor, like he's on my level. I'm sure it really helps to make the ladies open up. "It's not been taken away, Edward. At least it hasn't been in the permanent fashion. Once you get better, or turn eighteen, you'll be out of here and able to do what you will with your penis whether it be you're much desired alone time or whatever new uses you might find for it.

"It's definitely not broken or you would not have had the urge at all though I am surprised it's taken you this long to notice. Most of the males are panicking in my office within the first week. I guess I assumed that you were already aware of the side effects of the 'meatloaf' as you call it." His lip twitches again. I can see it from the corner of my eye.

I have more questions, mores fears about my body and desires I wish I could discuss but he's so condescending at this point that I feels as though I would only be giving him ammunition.

He begins to drum his fingers on the desk as if contemplating scooting back a bit and taking a seat on it. How unprofessional. "Let's start with your surroundings. Who was there with you?"

"No one."

He pushes for more. "It was the common room after class. I know better than to believe you were alone. Were you with Miss Swan?"

I cough. "Among others," is my ultimate defense.

He nods a bit as he tries to think of a gentle way to lead this horse to water. I won't be going willingly. "Does the idea of others watching you cause this arousal? Perhaps you are excited at the thought of having more than one woman at a time." he suggests.

The best response is to say 'yes' and let him think I fantasize about the same things my peers enjoy but that would be far to easy for me to accept. "No, I'm not against monogamy or privacy for that matter. I wasn't raised in a whore house," I trail off at the end knowing if I mention my upbringing we'll end up off on a tangent about my childhood. It's always the same with these quacks. One way or another no matter what I say or do there is someway they can connect it to my parents. Elizabeth and Edward Sr. were good people, are good people. They raised me right and taught me to always be respectful toward women. How I choose to be now is no fault of theirs and all of mine.

"I see," he comments despite the fact that I know he doesn't, "When was they first time you found yourself aroused? Was it just yesterday or was there a time before you came here when you saw a pretty girl and were overcome with them excitement that brings about the erection?"

It pisses me off that he even bothers to ask. He's memorized my file by now making the questioning pointless. He knows I loved a woman in my past but I play along to see where he is taking this. "There were times before." I'm giving him what he's looking for while still defiantly not answering his question outright.

"Describe one of these times to me."

Alright, I'll bite. "There was this girl at the house one time." She had been there many times before and would be many more after. "She was swimming laps in the pool in the backyard when I got home from school. It was like something off Baywatch when she came out of the water in her one piece suit smiling and dripping water. She winked at me," and immediately followed it by tongue kissing Emmett when he walked away from the grill to give her a towel. The memory still stings but I do recall feverishly jerking off a few minutes later in my bothers room. The place was such a mess he never even noticed that came on his carpet and just left it there.

Carlisle takes the scene in stride, most likely thinking of how he'll imagine it later when he's taking care of business with the lunch lady. "Was this by any chance Rosalie?"

I want to slap him. He knows it was Rosalie. "Yeah," I mutter and await his diagnosis.

"Was this before or after the accident?" he asks. This is the tip of his hand that I have been waiting for, the momentary flash of the cards he holds. If I admit this was before then I would establish a motive, a premeditated reason for what I have done. Then I'm not insane, just a murderer.

I sigh. "No it was after, probably the beginning of the end."

He smirks at me knowing my game. I'm not about to let him or anyone else for that matter walk me into a trap.

Calmly he walks back around to the doctor side of his desk and takes a seat closing his notebook without adding a word to it. I don't have to wonder why he doesn't add the new information. It really isn't anything new that I lie to him. "Was there every a time before?" he wastes his breath voicing.

"Never."

"And in the common room it was likely Miss Swan's grinding on you that had you feeling the need for an erection, correct?"

I knew Ms. Platt had opened her fat mouth about it. The Good Doctor was just enjoying this little game of cat and mouse at my expense. So much for there being a single person in this place that I can trust. "Yeah, something about he hot little sex against me had me wanting to tear into her whether she was up for it or not. You know, I might just skip meals for the next couple of days until my little friend is ready to go and just have my way with her in the dining hall. I bet it'd be quite the…"

"That's enough," he shouts raising himself from his chair, "This isn't a game, Edward. This is a young girl's life you are weaseling your way in to and keeping her from getting better. She has her own issues to deal with that she can't focus on with your tongue down her throat and hands in her pants."

I stand up to match him shout for shout. "Don't pull that crap with me. She's not sick and you of all people should know that. You're her damn doctor. Can't you tell?"

He starts to say something but thinks better of it shaking his head and starting again. "Is that what she told you?" he asks a little too calmly. I don't know why exactly but I choose not to answer and instead watch him take his seat and pick up his phone. He dials some sort of code and requests an escort before ending the call. "I think it would be best for the two of you to spend some time apart. I'll be putting you on lock down until I find the time to speak with Miss Swan. A few days looking at your own for walls might just be good for you."

I'm still standing, still fuming, towering over him. "Are you kidding me?" I shout, "You're grounding me because you a shitty doctor you can't tell the sick ones for the fakers?"

"I'm not grounding you. I'm giving you some much needed solitude for you to reflect on recent events and get control of that temper of yours until I can get a better understanding of the situation." He's twirling his pen in hand and looking at me as though he has just declared 'Checkmate' in our battle of wits. "The separation will be best for everyone involved."

"This is bullshit," I scream knocking over and golf statue on his desk just as my escorts walk through the door. There are two and they each grab and arm to drag me out without even bother to request that I join them. I would have walked myself.

As soon we were in the hall I hear Carlisle shout, "He'll need to be temporarily sedated." It only makes me thrash more knowing that as soon as the brutes have me behind closed doors they'll drug me and then who knows what they'll do. Sick bastards. I give them a good fight all the way until the needle goes in.

AN: We're so close to the end that I'm getting all weak kneed. I would have had this up much sooner but my computer at work has limited internet and I was late this morning and left my flash drive at home which is still not as bad as this past Friday when I left my keys at works and fell halfway down the stairs at my apartment carrying books and notepads and my cold coffee from earlier in the day. My two year old found it hilarious. Anyway, No flash drive means I couldn't write at work and when i got home I tried to finish up on my desktop but it only stays on for fifteen minutes before it freezes and has to be rebooted, which is really frustrating if I go ten minutes without saving and lose all sorts of good stuff. Then I get frustrated and don't want bother with it at all but my phone beeps whenever I get a message or a review or any other stuff and i remember that it's not about me, it's about you. Immediately following I put my big girl britches on and get to work. Thus, you get an update. You're welcome!