Chapter 13
1921 Ashland, Wisconsin
The plan to move had gone as smoothly as expected. Carlisle had finished out three weeks at the hospital in Chicago before he and Edward had made their way to Ashland, Wisconsin.
They easily played off the roles they'd discussed as uncle and nephew, and no one questioned it.
Carlisle almost immediately took a job at the hospital there and was admired through his credentials and experience.
Other members of the hospital there didn't hesitate to ask him questions, and were overly friendly. They made him feel at home, and he appreciated it deeply. He only wished he could be friendlier, though knew it wouldn't be to his advantage if he did.
Life was good for Carlisle and Edward. Carlisle had his work and Edward began his studies, initially posing as a senior in school where he passed his classes with flying colors. It was his intent to go to college once the courses began in the fall.
Edward had his hunting under wraps and was never a danger to the members of their confined society. He charmed the women of all ages and knew it, though no one ever held his interested past a moment or two.
Carlisle warned him about getting too close to people, though let him have the freedom he so rightfully deserved. He knew Edward had a good head on his shoulders and so he didn't worry much.
Night had fallen over Ashland and Edward knew Carlisle was getting ready for his shift at the hospital.
"Be careful," Edward said jokingly as Carlisle fixed the collar on his shirt.
He laughed and gave a halfhearted "Thank you" before heading out the door.
The night had started off like any other. Carlisle made his way to the hospital and had his fair share of patients. None of them, that night, were critically ill or on the brink of death. All he had on his plate were routine injuries and quick fixes, along with a few patients of extended stay that were well on their way to recovery.
Family members of the ill thanked him for his services as he bounced from room to room doing his job. The company that Edward brought him had brightened his spirits all together, and Carlisle's demeanor had changed.
As much as he enjoyed his work, he now didn't mind going home, either, and as his shift was about to end, he had a good feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Carlisle was about to remove his lab coat when a nurse came running up to him, "Come quick! A woman has fallen from a cliff. She's near dead!"
He hurried to where the nurse led him, letting his carefree attitude spill out of his body. Carlisle looked down at the woman in the hospital bed.
"She's not breathing," the nurse said frantically.
Carlisle refocused on the woman before him and he took in a deep breath. Her scent was unforgettable and he knew right away who the battered person before him was. It was the young woman who he was unable to completely forget; the beautiful girl with the vivacious spirit and the broken leg. The patient was Esme Platt.
He stared down at woman's body with a heavy heart. When he'd parted ways with Esme ten years earlier, he thought for sure she would have been her own success story and lived on to have her happy ending.
What Carlisle was witnessing was anything but happy. It was a tragedy.
"Is she dead?" the nurse asked.
"How did this happen?" Carlisle asked.
"She fell off a cliff," the woman repeated, "Well, jumped actually."
He spun around to face her, obviously horrified, "Jumped?"
"It was a suicide attempt, we believe."
Carlisle felt like his world was crashing down on him. For the last ten years, he'd had thoughts of Esme occasionally. He'd pictured her growing up and becoming a teacher, and having children of her own with the man of choosing as her husband. He dreamed of her happiness.
He'd imagined her as always smiling and free as the day he met her. He knew she did not deserve this as the ending to her story. Esme was far too pure and good and wholesome to exit her time in such a tragic fashion.
Carlisle lied to nurse, as he took her vitals, all the while knowing Esme's heart was still beating. It reminded him of how her heart rate picked up the time he smiled at her.
The memory triggered both happiness and sadness at once. This was the first time he'd felt completely overwhelmed by the condition of a patient.
"She's dead," he told the nurse, "Her heart is not beating." He shook his head and found it easy to portray his sadness, though he knew she was not dead; not yet anyway.
"I'll see it that she gets to the morgue," Carlisle said. He shook his head.
"So tragic," the nurse said, recognizing the sorrow in his eyes.
"It is," he said with a nod.
The nurse saw that her presence was beginning to become a burden for him, and so she excused herself from the room with a parting question. "You'll escort the body down?"
"Yes," Carlisle answered.
Without another word, the nurse was gone and Carlisle was left with the body of the only human that had impacted him nearly three hundred years.
If it were possible, he would have wept. Esme was too good for this to happen to. She was a bright, honest, wholesome woman.
Carlisle bowed his head above her, sensing her heart rate was beginning to drop.
It's now or never, he thought to himself, continuing to stare mournfully at Esme's injury-ridden body.
He took a look over his shoulder and saw no one nearby. The nurse was gone and he would have known if someone else had come into the area.
Carlisle took another look at Esme thinking despite the bruises and scrapes that decorated her; she looked like nothing shy of an angel. He couldn't let her go this way, and so with a final look over his shoulder, Carlisle pressed his mouth against her neck and bit down.
Again, his will power weakened with the taste of Esme's blood as his poured into his mouth. The stopping power he possessed kicked in a little sooner than it had with Edward, as he repeatedly thought to himself over and over, don't kill her; don't kill her; don't kill her.
Carlisle spring up from where he'd latched on to her neck and saw the venom begin to play its roll in changing Esme from a fragile human woman to an indestructible immortal.
He picked her up carefully, carrying her out of the hospital so she was cradled to his body. At that moment, he realized he'd never felt so protective over anyone or anything else, Edward included.
Carlisle wanted to bring Esme to where it was safe and comfortable. He knew she was probably in the middle of experience the anguish both and Edward had during their transformations.
It'll all be over soon, he thought, whipping away to the outskirts of town to the house he shared with Edward.
When he arrived, Edward opened the door before he could knock.
"What's going on? I've heard your thoughts for miles."
"I have to get her inside," Carlisle said.
Edward looked at the woman in Carlisle's arms and looked up at him, "Is this her?"
He didn't find the time to answer and quickly pushed passed him into the house.
Edward followed, slamming the door behind him. It his short years of knowing Carlisle, Edward had never seen him this frantic. He was always level headed and saw the reason in everything. The image of him, for the first time, losing his composure made Edward extremely uneasy.
Carlisle's thoughts were practically screaming as he prayed that the woman, Esme, would be alright and make it through the transformation.
There was also a part of him that prayed with the same enthusiasm that she wouldn't hate him upon her awakening.
Edward could see that her approval meant the world to him, and he was currently worried that she was experiencing the same level of pain that he had from the spread of the venom.
He could see that, despite the briefness of their encounter in the past, Carlisle felt very deeply for Esme. Every thought that crossed his mind revolved around her well-being.
"She is in pain," Edward told Carlisle, as he tucked her neatly beneath the blankets of one of the beds in the house, "But she's okay. She's handling it quite well."
Carlisle hadn't even thought of using Edward's talent to dig into Esme's mind.
"What is she thinking?" he asked eagerly.
"She's definitely feeling the burning. It hurts, but she's alright. She's wondering about an afterlife and if she's going to Hell."
Carlisle pressed his eyebrows together and shook his head, "That could never be possible." His eyes met Edward's for a moment before they both looked away.
"I remember thinking the same types of things, even though I halfheartedly remembered you biting me."
"She was unconscious," Carlisle said, "Almost at the brink of death. She jumped off a cliff."
"Is this Esme; the woman who passes through your thoughts every now and again?"
He didn't have to answer. Edward already knew it was her. Carlisle didn't even have to use her name in his thoughts for him to know.
"Yes," Carlisle told him, "I found her completely by chance. The nurse called me in at the end of my shift saying a young woman had tried to commit suicide. They wanted me to try to save her. I couldn't. Her heart rate was nearly nonexistent but it was there just enough for me to change her."
"How many people have you changed?" Edward asked for the first time.
"Just the two of you." His eyes drifted back to Esme and he couldn't help but think of how tragic it was to waste such a wonderful life, "And it was only because you were dying. If you weren't, I would never be selfish enough to do something like this."
"Did you ever consider changing Esme the first time you met her?" Edward asked. He looked over at the woman who laid still with her eyes closed.
"No," Carlisle said, shaking his head, "Never." He stared down at Esme, "I would never wish this upon either of you. I just couldn't bear the thought of your mother's pain and the tragic way your life was ending. And Esme…" he shook his head.
"What I knew of her," he went on, "was nothing like the ending that was picked out as her fate. There has to be more for someone like this."
Edward nodded, "From what I can tell, she's going to be alright Carlisle."
"I hope so," he said, "I hope she's like you. You've filled a void in my life. I spent three hundred years traveling alone, aside from the twenty or so I spent with The Volturi. Don't get me wrong, they were remarkable in their own right, but not the best company to keep."
"I'm sure she'll turn out as extraordinary as you remember her."
"I just want her to be healthy and alive," Carlisle said, "If we count as being both of those things."
"Healthy," Edward said, "I'd say so."
Carlisle took his lack of a comment about the 'alive' part of his statement to mean that he wasn't totally sure about that aspect their current status.
"Well, healthy compared to what I was just before the change," Edward added.
I wonder what made her want to end her life, Carlisle thought. He stared intently at Esme and knew Edward had read his thoughts from the way he stared in his direction. Carlisle assumed it was the deep nature of his wandering mind that kept Edward from responding.
The two of them sat at Esme's bed side for hours, each of them taking in the dawn of the next day in the quiet room.
Sunrays trickled in through the windows, though the day quickly gave way to an overcast sky and pleather of clouds.
Edward looked at Carlisle and realized he had no intentions of moving until Esme awoke. He sat in a similar position that he remembered seeing him in when he came out of his own venom-induced half slumber.
He felt as though he was more awake than Esme currently was. His weakened state at the time, however, made the experience extremely hazy and confusing. Like Esme, he contemplated the thoughts of a forever damned afterlife from the painful burning that coincided with the change.
The day turned into night and Carlisle hadn't moved from where he sat. Edward knew it was for the fear of Esme waking up alone, to no one, in the same manner he had. He had been scared and alone with a whole new look at the world at his fingertips that was guided by murder and blood.
In Carlisle's own words, it was a nightmare brought to life. He couldn't allow Esme to experience that; not even for a second.
"I think I'd better hunt," Edward said finally. He'd let the burning sensation linger longer than normal in an attempt to stay by his friend.
"Of course," Carlisle said with a nod, "Don't feel obligated to stay here just because I am."
"Will you be alright for an hour?"
"I'll be fine. I just don't want her to wake with no one here."
Edward nodded, "I'll be back."
Carlisle nodded back as Edward left the room. He returned his focus on Esme and continued to wait patiently by her side.
He watched as all of her injuries began to fade from her body. It was more profound in Esme than in Edward. Carlisle leaned forward, taking in everything that was happening and suddenly became more optimistic.
Esme was beginning to look revived and full of life again, minus the human rosy color that had once lingered in her complexion.
Carlisle began to pray. He didn't know if it helped or not, but he figured it couldn't hurt. He prayed for Esme's well-being, and that she would find this second chance at life to be fulfilling.
Above all else, he prayed that she not be punished in the afterlife for his selfish actions of trying to keep her. He repeated over and over again that she was now his responsibility, and should she commit any sins, that he be blamed for them.
He asked for forgiveness on her behalf for the way her human life had ended. Carlisle pleaded for mercy be placed on her soul and truly hoped what he was saying would be heard.
The next day passed by as quickly as the one before it. Night soon fell and Carlisle continued to wait. The anxiety he felt as he waited for Esme to awake was overwhelming.
Carlisle needed to know the answers to his questions. Would she hate him? Would she accept the idea of their animal consuming lifestyle? Would she be able to control her thirst for blood? Would she accept the fact that she was a vampire?
The mystery of it all was plaguing his mind and almost making him feel physically ill. He wanted to badly to know she was alright, and upon her awakening he would do whatever it took to make her face glow in the same way it did when he first met her.
Edward continued to pop in and out of the room, spending hours at a time with Carlisle before wandering around the house to entertain himself with programs on the radio, or reading material.
He couldn't help but focus in on Carlisle's thoughts as the anticipation of it all began to really take its toll on him.
Another couple of hours went by before Edward stormed through the bedroom door and stood next to Carlisle.
"What is it?" Carlisle asked him, strongly sensing he knew something.
"She's about to wake up," Edward said in a whisper, "Or, I think she is."
The two of them sat looking on with wondering eyes at the woman who had yet to move. She laid silently with such grace and innocence that it almost seemed wrong to wake her from such a peaceful looking state.
At her first stir, Edward saw Carlisle's fingers tense up around the wooden bedframe. Edward sensed his own hands were balled up in anticipation and felt compelled to witness Esme's awakening into her new life.
...
The burning had finally passed and Esme feared the worst. She wondered if she'd walked blindly down endless streets of fire to where she would now be faced her eternal sentencing.
There was no mistaking the fire. Esme was all but certain that she would be damned for the course of actions that took place throughout her life, including the final leap of faith off of the cliff.
Her eyes flickered open and she was frightened to the core. She did not want to come face to face with the reality that she might very well be in Hell. She could not take the pain and the burning for all of eternity.
Esme looked up toward what appeared to be a ceiling. Her eyes scanned the tops of the room, which looked far too normal. She then gazed at the walls and realized there was a clean, white bed sheer that was pulled up toward her chin.
Confusion crossed her mind and then she looked toward the end of the bed and saw him.
Everything else in the room disappeared and Esme's eyes fixed on the man she knew as Dr. Cullen. He was exactly as she remembered; handsome, flawless and everything she would have dreamed for in a man. There was one difference, and that was in his facial expression.
He looked worried and anxious. He wasn't smiling like he had been throughout their first meeting at the hospital in Columbus.
This can't be Hell, Esme thought. She continued to stare at him in disbelief and then remembered the burning. Could it? No, she quickly dismissed the thought, well maybe a type of Hell she didn't know existed. He's here but he can't see me, or hear me. I'll be tortured forever by being able to look at him, but I'll never be able speak with him or interact with him in anyway. That has to be it.
Esme had her mind set that she was some type of mental torture chamber. She couldn't take her eyes off of him, still, and hadn't realized there was another man in the room until he chuckled.
He, too, was handsome and had similar features to Dr. Cullen.
A brother? She thought. Probably; they have the same eyes. I've never seen anyone else with eyes like theirs before.
Her eyes drifted back to the man she had thought and fantasized about, and compared every other man to in her life. Esme couldn't process that he was sitting just a few feet away from her.
"Esme." He finally spoke, and his eyes locked on hers.
She felt a wave of shock hit her like a truck. Like the first time speaking with him, she felt paralyzed and awe struck at the smooth, crisp tone of his voice. Just one word had put her into a type of trance that she couldn't get herself out of.
The other man laughed again and he turned his attention to Dr. Cullen.
"She remembers you," he said with the same type of mesmerizing voice.
Esme finally found it in her to speak, "Dr. Cullen?"