A/N Thanks to those who nominated FBR and DFE (and me in the author category) in the Glamspawards. :) Check out their site and be sure to vote for your faves. Just google Glamspawards and be prepared for a giggle.
The chapter you are about to read has not been beta'd.
Chapter 50
Bearing the Weight Until I Learn to Lean
Bella's POV
. . . . . .
I died today.
Quietly and without fanfare. The time, officially unknown I suppose, and yet I won't forget watching the clock on the wall count the minutes, the seconds, down to the hour of 6:00 p.m. This is the moment Charlie Swan will call his former wife Renee and tell her of the loss of their only child. The chiming of those six, harsh bells from the antique clock down the hall from our bedroom is the marker I use. As the last one rings out, lingering for a moment in the air as though it knows its own monumental importance, I know it ends the existence of Isabella Marie Cullen nee Swan.
Edward Anthony Cullen officially died with me.
I rise up out of my curled position on the couch and cross the room to the bed.
Edward Masen sits on the edge and watches me with soft, sad eyes gone black with emotions I can't fathom. Intense and rigid, he doesn't blink, as though he's afraid to do so would mean I'll vanish and truly be gone from him.
My smile is tentative when I move to stand between his slightly splayed knees, but the hand that tangles briefly in his hair and then slides down to rest on his cheek is as reassuring as I can make it.
"Hello, Mr. Masen," I greet softly, glad to hear my voice stays as steady as my hand. Perhaps later there will be a time to tremble, to mourn the loss of the only identity and life I've ever known, but not now. Not when I know he needs me...
"Hello, Mrs. Masen," he greets back, a mixture of pride and regret tumbling in amongst the sadness in his eyes. As proud as he is to be a Cullen, there is something inherently special about me taking his real name, and though he may regret the necessity, he cannot fully hide his pleasure in saying it out loud for the first time. He captures my hand in his cold grasp, almost squeezing too tight as he presses it to his mouth, kissing the skin on my knuckles with a ragged breath before finally allowing his eyes to close. I see a stronger flash of pain just before his lashes sweep it under his lids.
"Bella. I..."
"Shh," I hush him, bringing my other hand up to touch the other side of his face. "Look at me. I'm right here, Edward. You're right here, too. That's the only important thing."
His eyes open at my urging, and I replace the tentative smile with something more real, letting the love I feel for him show in my eyes and ground me at the same time.
"I'm right here," I repeat, knowing he needs to here it as many times as I can say it.
"Yes."
"You're right here."
"Yes."
"I'm real. I'm yours. Touch me."
"Yes..." This affirmation is born on a hard exhaled groan as I give him permission to do what he's trying to restrain himself against. Hands curled on his thighs in fists that seem sculptured from raw cement unfurl and reach up, tugging the sash from my robe free and sending it off my shoulders to pool on the floor behind us. I'm naked underneath, by choice, by design. I knew he would need this. That he would need me, and I wanted nothing between us that might make him hesitate, not even something as inconsequential as clothes.
"Touch me," I murmur again, urging him to put his needs first, wanting to ease him if I can. The pull of our invisible connection reaches out as always, demanding its link in physical actions. I know he feels it too when he groans my name and tumbles me down on the bed, covering my body with his, parting my thighs with his...
Life reaffirms life in the most elemental and powerful way physically possible. And, oh yes, we are both very much alive. Even if only my heart truly beats, it doesn't matter. A lost life time ago it learned to beat for both of us, and I will make sure it keeps on beating for as long as I can. For as long as he needs me to...
. . . . . .
Much later in the dark, wrapped in his cool arms and the competing warmth of heat radiating from the fire he built in the fireplace, Edward speaks to me softly. Telling me of the steps he's taken to make sure that Renee and Phil, and even Charlie, will never want for anything in their lives.
Desires banked, the sadness moves back into his eyes as he softly strokes my skin and murmurs to me a dozen inconsequential things. Watching me closely to see if I will finally break under the weight of his confessions.
I don't. Not when he tells me of the wills that will bequeath more money to my parents than they could ever imagine. The bulk of it is hidden in assets that will pay them generously throughout their lives, all managed by discreet accountants and investment firms so that they will never truly know the full amounts of their sudden overwhelming fortune.
I don't break when he tells me of the arranged memorial service that will take place in Forks in lieu of typical funerals. Our bodies, after all, will never be found, believed to have been claimed by the same waters that stole our lives.
Not when he tells me that we will be alone for a few days while the family returns to Forks to help Charlie perpetuate the charade. Or when he tells me that Alice has seen that Charlie will struggle with the weight of his responsibility when confronted with my mother's grief, but that he will bear it in the end.
In the silence that follows, I think of the people I've left behind. I find myself wondering about Angela and Mike, and the few other friends I'd made and never fully cherished. Mostly I think about how it all seems to have come full circle, and even more than that, how right it feels to be where I am now.
The sadness is there, but for now, my gains are too precious to be minimized by my losses.
I press a kiss to Edward's chest, moving my mouth over his skin to a flat nipple, brushing my lips across it and smiling a little at the half choked sound he makes in the back of his throat. His hands tangle in my hair and tug me up gently to search my eyes with his, trying to see inside.
"Bella..."
Thank you," I tell him, dropping my head again to kiss his mouth. "For taking care of them, of me." I move the kisses lower along his jaw, and then his neck, wanting to once again banish the pain from his eyes. Back across his chest to the other nipple I neglected, smiling again at the noise that is the same apparently no matter which one I touch. Down to his perfect abs, the muscles defined and completely rigid beneath my lips as I strive to take care of him for a change, to show him without words that I've made my choice and I have no regrets.
As I move lower, I wonder briefly what noise he'll make this time. And then I smile as I don't have to wonder anymore...
. . . . .
Later still, the fire has died in its grate to nothing more than orange embers, and my body feels drained and light and very, very alive despite the now common belief to the contrary. Especially with an inexhaustible Edward brushing his lips over my ribcage and grinning as I convulse in giggles.
"Edward, stop," I laugh and then gasp as his kisses move lower and change in intent.
In my mind the strange corridor opens and a door rattles gently in its frame. The movement matches the ripples I feel on my skin as he bows his head to my abdomen and growls the word 'mine' against my skin.
"Oh..."
Edward's door. It's so clear. How I could ever have not understood before baffles me. Unlike the other doors that seem to stay stationary, there place in the corridor fixed, Edward's door is with me always. No matter where my feet are in the corridor, Edward's door is beside me. I know that if I wanted to, I could seal the door, lock it up tight and keep him safe inside with me...
"You're turn," he whispers to me, the words like touch on the inside of my thighs.
In the corridor I open the door and see the meadow, our meadow, alive with sunlight and wild flowers, and Edward smiling, holds out his hand to me beckoning...
His real presence and voice draws me back. "Stay with me, love. Stay here with me..."
My eyes open and he's above me, cradling me close as lights and pain flash through my head like late-spring thunder storms. His fingers run over my cheek, the touch and his plea anchoring me to the here and now. In my mind I close the door and send the corridor back into the shadows, once again finding the will to defy the compelling pull of it. My fingers tremble when I reach up to touch his dark angels face, his eyes filled with worry, pleading with me not to let that place pull me in. Not yet.
Not until he's ready...
I tug him down to me, arching off the bed so our skin touches everywhere, sliding my legs around his hips so he can't help but be inside me. So deep inside me... "I'm not going anywhere," I promise, sealing the vow with a kiss.
. . . . . .
The house is very quiet with only Edward and me home. We spent the morning talking quietly in our bed, him urging me to open up about where I go in my head during those moments I seem so far away. I'd tried to explain a little, but it's so hard, and I hate the shadows it puts on his face and in his eyes. I've already caused him so much worry... I shouldn't omit things, I know, but I can control this. I will control this...
I hear him in the kitchen, humming along to some obscure fifties song on an 'oldies' radio station while he cooks me an omelette. The normality of it hits me hard and makes me want to laugh as I relish the new lightness finally banishing the darkness that has hung over him like a cloud. He's...happy again, and it is such a beautiful thing to see some of the weight finally lifting off his shoulders
The sudden remembrance that far away in a place I once lived my family and his are mourning our pretend death, jars me a little. The word surreal has a whole new meaning and understanding for me. And just like that the urge to laugh vanishes, and I want to cry.
I stare down at the journal in my lap and blink until the words found there are no longer blurred, letting what I wrote chase away the melancholy I won't allow to taint Edward's current mood. Or mine for that matter, because in truth, melancholy aside, I too am happier than I've been in a very long time.
Blushing, I read over the last line again, teasing the underside of my chin with the ridiculous poof of fuzz on my pen. The words are choppy, the loops of the letters broken by intermittent blank spaces as the ink ran out, but it hardly matters. I captured what I wanted to capture; a sweet intense moment between Edward and me in the hot springs last night. The air had been so cold and the water so hot, the steam created walls that sealed us in so the only direction you could see was up. Above us a blanket of stars and the flickering lights of the aurora borealis. They'd danced and blended with the tiny, stationary jewels of starlight before coalescing with the explosion of lights in my body and mind.
Maybe it's silly, but it's my journal. My memories. And making love with Edward in the hot springs in Alaska in the middle of the night, wasn't something I ever wanted to forget.
I shake the pen to try and squeak out the last remnants to write two more lines. More than my own feelings, I wanted to capture and remember Edward's. The way he looked at me, the way he arched his back and growled his own pleasure to that light show in the sky. Most of all the way he held me in that moment afterward, his unnecessary breathing oddly ragged as he groaned in my ear and told me – "You wreck me, Bella."
High praise indeed coming from an invincible vampire.
The pen is being uncooperative, and I feel a little sad as I stare at it and contemplate writing with a plain old Bic pen. Even the most serious and intense memories can't overwhelm me when I'm writing them with a ridiculous pen. The icing on the cake being that a very serious, and at the time nearly despondent vampire, had bought me the absurd thing just because it had made me smile. A tangible, solid presence in my hands that feels like it kind of represents Edward's love and acceptance of all parts of me. From the serious to the silly, the broken to the healed.
"Are you all right?" His sudden appearance in the doorway startles me, and he's at my side instantly, running one cool finger over my cheek. "I'm sorry, did I scare you? You were so deep in thought." Looking down at the journal in my lap his eyes make a few quick passes over the words and then his lips quirk crookedly, a smile beginning to bloom even before my slower reactions can close the book.
He laughs lightly at my blush, and then leans down to place a feather light kiss to my mouth. "You know to capture that moment accurately, you really should write your experience of the exploding lights three times." His smug words are delivered on his icy sweet breath, filling my head with clouds and the remembered sensation of just how what he's describing felt. Still, I roll my eyes and smack him lightly with my pen. Or I thought lightly. The casing cracks and the tip snaps off, bouncing off the wrinkles of fabric created by the bent angle of his arm before rolling to the floor.
"Oops." I stare at the broken pen and sigh. It was dead anyway, but that silly lingering feeling of loss hurts. "I really liked that pen," I pout, giving him a little evil eye. A second later my journal is gone and a plain white cardboard box sits on my lap in its place.
"What's this?" I question.
"Open it."
I frown, but gamely wiggle open the flaps at the top. A dozen pens with fuzzy caps of hair spill out. All identical to mine.
"Oh. What...How?"
Edward picks one up and twirls it gently, making the froth of material stand up straighter. "I found the manufacturer online," he admits somewhat sheepishly.
I dive up off my chair and throw myself in his arms. His fast reflexes and strength aid him in catching me easily while I kiss him thoroughly. He smiles against my mouth when I have to draw back for air.
"Finally," he murmurs.
"Finally what?"
"Finally a gift you approve of. I'm tempted to buy the company now, or at least the patent on those ridiculous things."
I laugh. "I doubt that would be a very wise or lucrative investment, Edward."
His expression alters slightly as he looks down at me, and with incredible tenderness he traces the line of my ear and jaw. "I beg to differ, love. Any investment I make that pays dividends as valuable as the treasure of your smile and happiness, is the wisest investment I could ever make.
I can't help but laugh again. "That's very sweet, Mr. Masen. Very cheesy, but very sweet."
He grins and in a move that takes my breath away, scoops me up and tosses me unceremoniously but carefully over his shoulder. He swats my bottom lightly, making me squeal.
"I aim to please, Mrs. Masen. And speaking of cheese, it's time to feed the human and your omelette is ready."
. . . . . .
Staring at the computer screen in the dim light of Carlisle's study isn't doing my headache any favours, but there was no denying my curiosity. After all, how many people can say they had a chance to read their own obituary?
Unlike the other obituaries that appeared at the same time on the Forks Forum, mine is simple and brief. No lifetime of achievements or long line of surviving family members to draw it out past one small paragraph. In my mind I can imagine the people reading and shaking their heads sadly at the loss of such a young life. Pity marring their expressions as they maybe search the room for their own daughters, trying to reassure themselves with their presence. Worse yet, I imagine Renee reading those few words, knowing that she can't take that comfort.
It's a conflicting batch of emotions I feel reading this. Regret for the pain I'm causing for my own selfish desires. Relief that the past is now truly the past. A dozen others I can't easily name conflict me and frustrate me.
"Not an easy thing to read, darlin. Confused is okay."
When Jasper's voice breaks into my reverie, it isn't a surprise. I'd purposely waited until Edward left to hunt to scratch the unrelenting itch of curiosity. Not because I wanted to hide it from him, but simply because this feels private to me. Something I desperately wanted to do on my own. I knew when I logged on that my emotions would alert Jasper. If anything I'm surprised he gave me as much alone time as he has.
I log off the computer and turn towards him. He's sitting on the small sofa, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands stretched out to the fire he must have built while I was lost in my own thoughts. He smiles softly, eerily beautiful in the firelight the way they all are, and pats the space beside him. I leave the now black monitor to join him, curling my feet beneath me and resting my head against the cushions. His presence is solid and reassuring, the touch of his gift light and not unwelcome as I instantly feel relaxed and content. Perhaps too relaxed and content. The vigil I must always keep now over my shield fails me. The corridor snaps open without warning so that I don't see the fire or Jasper, only the endless length that goes on and on.
I know this is the way to control my shield, but I don't know how...
So many damn doors. I don't even know that many people; do I? Is each door a person, someone I know, or everyone I've ever known? A place? Could I extend my shield over entire area...?
Jasper's door is easy to find. In the last few days I've realized that his door, like all the Cullens, is always at the front. Likewise the doors I believe are Renee's and Phil's and Charlie's. The quickest besides Edward's to access.
What I don't understand, what frightens me, is I don't know how the corridor works. If I walk too far down, if I take any one of the turns and twists, will I lose their doors? Can I take them with me the way I take Edward's? Could I join the rooms? Make them one so I don't block them from each other, only from the outside world...
Will I lose myself? I'm so tempted, so compelled to explore, but the unknown spaces confuse me, terrify me, just as much as they seem to call me. The lure is getting harder and harder to resist and I find myself taking a step forward, like a moth to the flame.
It's so compelling...
There are times when the entire corridor feels solid and immovable, every door anchored, and other times when I swear there is fluidity there, insubstantial mouldable qualities. The desire to seal and lock the doors is overpowering, like instinct, but I know I must not do that. Even the thought tears at something inside of me, pushing at the walls of my mind until I think I see cracks and fissures, as though if I'm not careful I could cleave the two parts of me in half...
If I could just understand...
"Bella! Stop!"
Ice cold hands grip my face tightly, slamming me back to the study and the real world. I'm gasping and shaking and for a minute I'm angry, furious at being pulled back, at being denied...something...
The feeling fades immediately, leaving me even more shaken in the aftermath and also more confused. Alice's face in front of me is a picture of distress. I have a hard time focusing on it though as my head erupts in agony. It bows my entire body, and I fall into Alice with a sob. Her arms cradle me and there is a flurry of activity in my periphery before it all goes black.
. . . . . .
"Carlisle, I'm fine," I tell him for the fourth time in as many minutes. I hiss as he shines the penlight in my eyes and then negate my former reassurance by whimpering and nearly throwing up on him. My hand clamps over my mouth as I rock under the onslaught of having my head hammered by imaginary fists. Vampire fists. I swear my skull is going to crack.
"You're not fine, Bella. You passed out, and you're obviously in a great deal of pain."
"I didn't pass out," I argue around my fingers. "Things just got a little...dark for a second."
Cool, soothing hands touch the sides of my head and anchor it to my neck. Rose. I'm surprised I can recognize anyone's touch outside of this pain.
"Can you swallow this, Bella?"
"No." I grit my teeth around the single syllable. My eyes are still shut tight and I have no idea what exactly it is he wants me to swallow, but it doesn't matter. Nothing is going to go down right now. Even air is problematic as the nausea just seems to get worse.
"She's too sick, Carlisle," Rose tells him, and I hear Alice echo the sentiment.
"It'll come up faster than it goes down."
Well, isn't that a lovely thought that almost comes true regardless of the fact I didn't actually swallow anything.
I feel Rose's gentle influence trying to soothe me and her door in the corridor rattles and knocks around in its frame. "Rose...don't...don't get in my head. It makes your door vibrate." I'm still talking through clenched teeth but the confused silence tells me they understood, at least the words if not the meaning. Rose lets go and I almost wish she hadn't. My head feels too heavy for my body to bear right now. Another set of hands thankfully replaces hers, and I hear Esme whisper to me to shush and to just relax, it's all okay.
A scratching sound is followed by a hiss and the sharp bite of sulphur from a match hits my nose a second before it's replaced by the sweeter smell of marijuana.
Esme's door rattles despite her lack of influence over me, and I whimper and regretfully pull away.
"Everyone. Give me a minute alone with Bella, please." Carlisle's order is soft spoken and quickly obeyed if the sudden empty feel of the space around me is any indication. "There now, easy breaths, Bella, just relax." He places the marijuana cigarette in my hand but my fingers are shaking too much to hang on to it.
"All right, sweetheart. Let's try it this way then, shall we? Breathe in." I manage to time my inhale to his exhale, and the sweetness of his breath mingles with the drug, somehow enhancing it. I relax with each puff, the pain withdrawing back to the corners of my head, no longer a snarling beast. My stomach settles by inches until I can open my eyes again. Carlisle extinguishes the joint when he sees I've had enough and then surprises me by picking me up, heading for the doorway.
"No tests," I mutter petulantly from the cloud.
"Just a few," Carlisle answers. "I'll give you something to help you sleep through..."
Instantly I push against him, shaking off the fog. "No, Carlisle, no more. Please, put me down, I'm okay."
"Bella..."
I press my head against his cool chest and clench his shirt in my fist when his steps stop just shy of the door. "Please, Carlisle. I'm so tired, please..."
I feel more than hear him sigh, and then I'm placed gently on the couch where this whole episode began.
"Okay, Bella. No tests."
I open my eyes to look at him, wanting to know if we're on the same page. I don't mean just now, I mean no more, period. His expression seems to convey he understands, and he smiles slightly and nods.
"No more tests," he promises quietly. I study him for a moment, making sure he means it. He smoothes my hair. "Can you swallow something now? It's liquid, not a pill. It won't make you sleep; it's just something to ease the headache further."
I shake my head, my stomach still too unsettled, and more than that, sick of the endless drugs. He doesn't argue, merely nods and drags a blanket over me gently.
"Rest then. It's the next best thing."
I close my eyes and listen to him move around the room shutting off lights. I hear him settle into his chair and then there is nothing but the sound of his habitual breathing. I let it soothe me, exhaustion a weight pressing down on my aching joints, though not the kind that brings sleep. Eventually I hear him turning the pages of a book. I think about asking him to read to me then disregard the thought. The silence is soothing in its own right.
A log in the fireplace shifts and thumps softly against the others, the resultant shower of sparks a flickering orange light behind my eyelids. I drift, ignoring the call of the corridor and the faded but lingering stab of the headache. I think I drift, though it isn't really sleeping. Eventually the needs of my body can't be ignored. I'm desperately thirsty so I sit up slowly, mindful of my throbbing head and the hazy effect of the weed.
Carlisle is at my side in an instant, the soft thump of the heavy cover on the large textbook he was reading sounding out behind him. I blink, a little disconcerted as he reaches out to steady me. It's only then I notice the furrows in his unlined forehead, like small chiselled waves in the smooth white surface. He's more than a little worried about me.
"I'm all right, Carlisle," I reassure him, though if his expression tells a tale, he doesn't really believe me. "I'm just thirsty."
"What would you like? I'll get it for you."
"Actually, I'd like to move around a little if that's okay? I'm stiff and tired of lying here." I don't wait for permission and start for the kitchen. As I move, I do actually start to feel better. The headache recedes further and my stomach settles until I'm actually looking forward to something to drink. Carlisle stays beside me, his presence a welcome brace.
In the kitchen he makes me sit down. Oddly at home in a room he has no use for, he moves around easily, pouring me a glass of juice and even putting the kettle on to brew tea. He sits across from me as the kettle boils and regards me gently as I take tentative sips from my glass.
"Tell me what happened, Bella."
I shrug and then sigh. He's put a small plate with plain saltine crackers in front of me as well and I pick one up, more to have something to do with my hands than out of any desire to eat them.
"It's hard to explain," I tell him.
"Try, please."
The cracker sits like a lump on my tongue forcing me to wash it down with more juice. The kettle whistles, giving me another second to organize my thoughts. He's just removing the strainer with the tea leaves in it when I finally begin.
"There is a corridor in my head." I watch him to see how he'll react, but he merely nods and places the cup in front of me, resuming his seat and waiting for me to continue. "A long unending corridor with doors. A lot of doors. Sometimes it's straight, other times it seems to have...corners, branches that lead...who knows where." The words leave me in a rush as I try to spit it all out quickly, hating that I can't articulate clearly what I see and feel.
"The doors are..." I look at him again, wondering if what I'm going to say next might make him think something in my head is seriously broken. His expression gives nothing away. "They're...all...I mean each door is a person. Someone I know. You, Rose, Emmett, Esme, Charlie. Everyone has their own door." I shut up then, feeling almost embarrassed despite the fact he only looks thoughtful now. His eyes are clear and non-judgemental. If anything, he looks intrigued.
"Did you know Jasper often sees emotions as colours, and not just a sensation he feels?" He asks, surprising me with the topic change.
"Uh, no, he's never said."
He nods and leans back in his chair, looking more thoughtful. "I suppose the closest likeness is what is commonly known as an aura. Though Jasper doubts the aura is anything the person themselves radiates, but merely what his mind uses to visualize the particular feelings."
"Oh."
"I'm assuming the corridor is related to your shielding ability. Would you agree?"
I feel some of the tension leak out of my shoulders and back as it seems he doesn't think I'm crazy. "Yes," I tell him quickly, leaning forward. "It is. I mean, I know it is. I just don't know how to work it or control it. It's so confusing."
"Bella, I'm not sure this is something you should be trying to understand at this point. There is time enough for that later. If I'm correct," he adds, softening his tone, "and I'm sure I am given your recent experiences, the more you explore this ability, the more your health will pay a price."
He's not telling me anything I don't know, and yet the comment still frustrates me. I want to understand, sooner rather than later. Not being able to do so frustrates me and makes me feel helpless. More than that, lately the call of it is harder and harder to resist, and I'm not entirely sure I won't get lost inside of that corridor as it sucks me in.
He sees something in my eyes that reflects my fear and leans forward, reaching out and taking my hand, squeezing it gently.
"Is there more you're not telling me?"
Taking a deep breath I think, 'in for a penny in for a pound'. If I've found a way to tell him this much, maybe he'll understand the rest as well.
"I'm afraid of it. Kind of," I amend quickly when his look turns from curious to concerned. "It freaks me out, but it calls me as well. At first I just saw it in dreams. I think I did anyway; it's hard to remember now. But then I started seeing it more. Now I see it every day and I... I want to stay there. I want to figure it out, even though I feel sick after, it's just so...compelling."
He's quiet for a long minute, and I wish for a second that I was Edward, capable of seeing inside his mind to know what he thinks. "Do you think I'm crazy?" I ask finally, unable to bear his silence.
He blinks and then smiles, a small laugh making him more handsome than ever. "Sweetheart. You are as far from crazy as it gets. If anything, you are a wonder."
I gape a little at that and he chuckles again.
"A wonder?" I laugh a little in shock and then shake my head at him. "A weirdo you mean, or at the very least a pain in the..."
"Stop," he admonishes gently, taking the hand he holds in both of his now, engulfing it in the cold solid grasp of all his fingers. "Bella, from the moment I first met you, I understood that you are a unique mind. I saw in you so many possibilities, and I will admit, at first, the one I saw most prevalently was the possibility you could save my son. You've done that, and so much more. You are a treasure, not just to him, but me as well. If I had been blessed in real life to have daughters, I could not have asked for a more precious trio than you, Rose and Alice. And if I may be so bold, I think, having had the honour of knowing you as I have, as a person in all aspects of the human definition, I have a bond with you I did not get to have with Rose and Alice. You are all truly daughters of my heart, but in you I've been given a great gift. Had my own transformation never happened, I believe wholeheartedly Esme and I would have had a daughter, very much like you. If you can fathom at all how much you mean to us..."
Tears burn hot and heavy in my eyes as I squeeze his hand back as hard as I can when he shakes his head. If he could, I know there would be tears in his as well. I never thought about it, but I can see how what he says might be true. Alice came to the family already changed. In order to save her life, Carlisle was forced to change Rose before he could know her as a human. In all my awkward clumsy fragile ways, I have been more a real child to them then they could be in their invincibility and immortality.
"You are special in so many ways," he continues after a moment. "This gift, this power and the amazing way it manifested long before its time, is proof I do not need to know that you are meant for this life. But it is a difficult burden you bear and an unfortunate, cruel experience that brought you the awareness of your shield. But until you become a vampire, it is a threat, Bella. A very dangerous one. Not a gift. Not something you should try to understand or control. You must resist its pull while you are still human."
"I'm trying," I tell him.
He nods and releases my hands, rising to take my untouched tea to the sink, dumping the rapidly cooling liquid before refilling it from the still steaming kettle. When he places it in front of me again and resumes his seat, his expression has changed from concerned to analytical and curious.
"I take it you have not discussed this with Edward?"
"A little. It's hard. It's not like I understand it enough to explain it, as I'm sure you noticed," I add, blushing a little. "Plus, he worries; you know how he gets..." My hands flutter uselessly before I wrap them around the steaming mug, absorbing the heat.
"Yes." Carlisle smiles to let me know he understands. "You are his life, Bella. His worry is understandable."
I nod. "He's my life, too, Carlisle." I beseech him slightly with my eyes. I don't want a lecture right now. "The last few weeks have been...amazing." I blush some more, wishing my face wasn't such an open book. The amazing doesn't just come from sex, but I'd be lying if I was asked and I said it wasn't a big part of it. I shift a little in my seat and take a tentative sip of my tea. I usually make it myself because as much as they try, Esme and Edward don't always get it right. Carlisle, however, has it perfect.
"There is a new lightness around you and Edward both," Carlisle agrees, thankfully ignoring my blush and its meaning. "It's been a joy to see."
"Then you can understand maybe, why I don't want to talk about all of this," I gesture to my head, "with him right now."
"I do. I only wish you trusted me enough to come to me though."
My eyes widen at the slight tinge of hurt I hear in his tone. I try to explain, but he holds up his hand to stop me.
"It's fine, Bella. I get it." He winks. "But for future reference, a good many years spent in Edward's company has taught me a trick or two in keeping him from knowing all of my thoughts. It can be difficult, but I can keep a secret." The small spark of amusement fades quickly from his eyes. "As your physician, it's important I know all your symptoms, especially right now."
"You're right. I'm sorry," I apologize. My cheeks get a little hotter with the slight chastisement.
"I'm more than just your physician," he adds, softening his tone to cushion the rebuke. "Try to remember that as well. I can be an advisor, someone you can come to for guidance, but more than that Bella, I'd like to be a confidante of sorts, someone you can talk with about anything, a friend. One I hope you know you can trust. Always."
"Of course, Carlisle." I smile and hope he can tell I already think of him as such in my tone.
"Good. Because it is important if you're choosing to remain human for now, that you mustn't shut me out. Again, both as your doctor and as a friend. Any symptom, no matter how inconsequential you feel it may be, is important. As are any emotions you may be feeling."
I nod, already feeling lighter for having told him what I have.
"Bella, right now it is imperative that you put yourself first."
I blink, a little thrown by the demand.
He smiles with an understanding tilt to his head. "Not an easy thing for you, is it? Putting yourself first. I understand that. The way you care for the needs and wants of others above yourself to such a degree as you do, is another thing that makes you unique and wonderful."
I shrug, uncomfortable with the overly flattering personality assessment. "I don't think of it that way. It's just...who I am. It's the way it's supposed to be."
"To a degree, yes. Until it compromises your own health and wellbeing," he warns, his eyes sharp and knowing on mine.
"I thought I could control it. I'm not intentionally keeping secrets, Carlisle, and I wouldn't intentionally jeopardize my life. I just didn't want Edward to worry." I purposely keep a defensive tone from entering my voice, wanting him to hear not an argument, but the truth. It might lose something in the translation followed as it is by a slightly impolite jaw-cracking yawn.
Carlisle smiles and gets up, holding out his hand to help me do the same. "I'm glad to hear it, Bella, and I thank you for confiding in me today. I will endeavour to keep our conversation between us, but I also encourage you to tell Edward what you've told me today. Knowing my son as I do, I would ascertain he is already aware of much of it. You'll worry him more by keeping secrets than you will by disclosure." Again he smiles gently to temper the rebuke. "He loves you, Bella. Don't deny him the chance to be there for you in all ways. His ability to bear any burden is limitless when it comes to you. You are his strength, let him be yours."
"I will," I tell him reaching out to impulsively hug him, truly grateful for his advice and understanding. He hugs me back, his cool arms, solid and strong, feel protective and caring as he places a cold kiss on top of my head much the way Charlie would have.
As though thoughts of my father bring him to Carlisle's mind as well, his hug tightens minutely. "Before we left Forks last week, I promised your father I would take care of you as if you were my own, and that I would let nothing happen to you. It was a promise I made willingly and easily for you are mine now in my heart. Don't make me break that promise, Bella."
He lets me go without waiting for a reply, but keeps his arm around me as he walks with me towards the door.
"Now, you need to rest. I won't push you on tests, but you must continue to take your medications. I'm going to add a stronger sedative tonight and tomorrow I want to start you an a new drug that could help keep the corridor at bay for the time being, all right?"
"Yes, okay."
"Good. Now,I'm sure Edward will be back soon. In the meantime, I know I asked that you put yourself first, but I do have one small favour to ask?"
"Anything," I tell him without hesitation.
"Esme is pacing the halls as we speak," he whispers, a bit playfully as I expect she can hear him regardless of how quiet he tries to say the words. The slight twinkle in his eye backs that up. "Maybe you could let her..."
"Carlisle Cullen!" Esme appears in the doorway, her hands on her hips and a dagger-like scowl on her beautiful face. "Don't you dare make her feel like she needs to do anything she doesn't want to do." The scowl falls away when she turns to me, turning apologetic and soft.
"I'm sorry, dear. I was just worried and wanted to make sure you were all right. Don't mind me." She waves her hands dismissively, but I'm already crossing the room to hug her. She's cold and hard but it's really no different than hugging Renee. Comforting, like coming home. I feel an ache at the loss of Renee, sharp and tight in my chest and as tears prick my eyes, I realize Esme is exactly what I need right now. My arms tighten around her as I release my breath in a shuddery sigh, suddenly not just tired but bone deep exhausted.
"Oh, my sweet girl," Esme murmurs softly, her hands running over my hair and back in that peculiar soothing caress that only mothers seem to know that instantly calms and makes you feel safe and loved. "Come on; let's get you into a warm bath. And after maybe a light dinner, or a cup of cocoa at least? Something sweet and hot?"
"That sounds great actually," I tell her truthfully. Her arms continue to hold me as she moves us fluidly down the hall to the bedroom, her impossible strength making me feel more like I'm floating than walking.
Yes, Esme is exactly what I need right now.
A/N This was a slower paced chapter, I hope it didn't disappoint. Consider it a little breathing room.
Also, some of you expressed confusion over the corridor in Bella's mind. Hopefully the fact that it represents her shield and how she can use/control it, is now understandable. The corridor has appeared throughout the story, mostly in her dreams, but in a story this long details get forgotten and links get missed. Feel free to ask questions if you're still not sure of anything. That kind of feedback is invaluable.
