A/N for 2020-11-06: It's Friday, and for this I am grateful. I'm also grateful for the two talented women who do so much amazing work on this story: Chayasara and Eeyorefan12.
Happy reading!
Erin
Edward leaned into the piano keys, trying to wrest more music from them than they could really produce. Though his face and body appeared placid to most of his family, he knew that Carlisle was not fooled by his performance, musical or otherwise.
Did something happen with Bella, son?
Moving in time with the music, he turned his head to the left and then to the right. Carlisle would recognize the gesture for the negative response that it was.
As he continued to play, he heard Carlisle switch his ruminations from Bella generally to Bella's medical treatment specifically. She was doing well, he thought, well enough that perhaps there could be a trial period with much-reduced exposure to Edward's venom. He thought she could also likely do well without Carlisle's involvement in her treatment at all.
Edward brought the song to a faster than planned conclusion.
Did Carlisle suspect something? Edward's gut clenched, considering this possibility. If he did, it endangered their entire family. For if Aro ever heard—No, Aro will not hear! he told himself. He thought of the plan he had fabricated to take Bella for treatment and trauma counseling in New York. It provided a credible reason for them to leave home and to be out of touch with family for a time. Then he thought about flying back to Forks with her so she could say goodbye. He thought of deciding to change her. Look at that, Alice, he implored silently.
He stood up and moved quickly to his room, lying down on his couch to stare at the ceiling. He was ill at ease, being away from Bella, but she had insisted on this time apart, and then Rose had, too. In fact, his sister had demanded the time together without Edward's worrying, not that she hadn't seen cause for worry, especially after he'd reported Demetri's visit to his family, but she assured him she would keep Bella safe. Knowing it was only for a few hours, Edward had relented. He'd plucked from Rose's mind plans that involved the buying of clothing, movies, and books. If his sister thought the first two items were of interest to Bella, she would be disappointed indeed.
Or perhaps there was more to it than he knew? His eyes narrowed. After so long apart, he found himself caught off guard by thoughts his family had clearly hidden from him, aspects of their characters seemingly fresh after all their years of familiarity. It had been a longer parting than normal, though, and one which had wrought a great deal of change in him.
He wrenched his thoughts away from what had brought about that shift in himself, returning his speculations to his family.
Few things rattled him more than surprising revelations about the character of his family members. He was privy to the innermost workings of each of them. What said more about someone than the correlation of their thoughts with their actions?
He shook his head. He was being paranoid. Of course, he had every reason to be paranoid.
Downstairs, his brother's quietest voice was still so loud and deep as to bounce off the walls. "Yeah, I could go for a bear about now," Emmett said to Carlisle. "Edward, wanna come?"
He should hunt. He hadn't hunted with Emmett in some time. There would be very few opportunities between now and when he and Bella planned to travel. "Absolutely," he called out, glad that Carlisle would be with them.
The thick clouds above had developed irregular fissures so that patchy bits of sun lit up the forest floor as if it were at the mercy of a giant, dysfunctional disco ball. Their bodies flying through these rays only added to the effect. Miles deep into the park's forest, the blanket of sword ferns swished around their feet as they passed by. Combined with the running, Edward found the regular sound almost soothing. He could almost ignore being away from Bella when he ran. He could almost not worry. Almost.
It was Emmett who caught the scent of his prey first. Mine, he called silently to Edward, who couldn't help but grin a little at his brother's playfulness. Edward and Carlisle kept running, noses to the wind, searching for their own targets.
The distance between the two parties grew, and the sounds of Emmett's play with his prey became fainter. Edward watched Carlisle shake his head, his face also adorned with a small smile. They all had their measures of joy, Carlisle was thinking, though his musings darkened when he thought of Jasper and Alice.
Inwardly, Edward sighed. His family's happiness was already fractured, and it would be even more so when he and Bella disappeared.
He had carefully avoided thinking of the reason why, and he avoided it now. He thought of Bella being well, of her receiving treatment at the centre he'd researched in New York. He stopped running, and Carlisle did too, looking at him with curiosity.
Something is on your mind, that something being Bella, yes?
Edward nodded and then gave Carlisle the additional details he'd learned about the therapy he'd been researching, responding as his father asked the questions he'd anticipated. Yes, his plan was solid in this regard. He hadn't doubted that.
There was more that he needed to say, though, and he knew he needed to say it very carefully so as not to reveal his true plans to the man who knew him better than anyone. "I'm not sure how long the treatment will take."
Of course. I'd hardly expect you to.
"We may be gone until we need to return for . . . until our deadline." How he hated to even think about that possibility.
Carlisle eyed him shrewdly. He was suspicious.
It was not difficult to pretend guilt. "I'm not trying to stay away from our family or keep her from you. You know how much I love you all."
Indeed. Carlisle's eyebrows pinched together. He didn't like the sound of this. Assurances of love were often followed by those very assurances being tested in some way. A similar conversation had prefaced Edward's departure when they'd left Forks the previous year.
"Given what this last year has taught me, I have no intention of making the same kinds of mistakes again." He met Carlisle's gaze. Please understand, he thought. Hear me.
His father's thoughts became suddenly and nebulously fearful. His eyes widened and then narrowed slightly. It was only for a moment, but Edward saw the image of Bella, red-eyed and pale, shift to one of her as human, the beginning of crow's feet at her eyes suggesting a kind of aging impossible over just a few months. Then it was gone, replaced with thoughts of Bella as a golden-eyed vampire.
"I understand entirely," Carlisle said softly. His thoughts darted to a new topic. "Then we should hunt. I can't imagine you're eager to leave her for long."
By the time Edward and Carlisle finished with their own prey, Emmett was bounding back towards them, exulting in the simple joy of conquering his meal. Emmett thumped Edward on the back good-naturedly and then frowned as he sniffed. "Badgers and raccoons? Really? You couldn't find anything better?"
"Someone has to pay attention to the stock availability in the park." Edward lifted an eyebrow pointedly.
Emmett shrugged. His thoughts were utterly preoccupied with the present and then with Rosalie. He was looking forward to being physically reunited with her again. He thought about—
Edward shifted to Carlise's mind, trying to drown out the specifics Emmett was considering. Carlisle had caught the scent of a lynx and was quickly ascertaining its likely location as well as the most painless way to dispatch it. With a brief glance at his sons to make sure neither of them had the same idea, he took off after it.
"Bella seems to be doing okay these days." Emmett's voice was very soft. He picked up a tiny trillium flower, whose unseasonal blossom had been sheltered in the hollow of a large pine tree. "You seem to be good for her."
Good for her?
Edward laughed bitterly. He was anything but good for her. Her father hadn't had any difficulty seeing through to the truth of that. But he was hers, good or not. And she was . . . she was her own person, and he was damn lucky that she loved him. He would ensure that she had as much of a human life as possible to live with that love.
Cutting off the thought, he returned to thinking about the treatment centre.
"When do you guys leave for that trauma place?" Emmett asked.
"Monday next week," Edward said.
"Gonna miss you." He twirled the delicate flower in his hand. He thought of Jasper and Alice and how it would be even lonelier with just him, Rose, Esme, and Carlisle. He consoled himself with the knowledge that the parting would be only brief. He thought of Bella smiling but red-eyed and deathly pale. And then he thought of her ripping Demetri's head off.
The snarl in Edward's chest took them both by surprise.
Emmett's hand tightened instinctively around the fragile blossom, crushing it.
Guilt assailed Edward. Here he was, anxious to spend time with his sibling and father, anxious to know if his brother had truly forgiven him, and yet all he could do was snarl at what Emmett considered justice, what he himself considered justice, when it came down to it.
The thought of Bella being near Demetri ever again made him think he would be physically ill. He put his head in his hands. "Please ignore me. I'm—"
"I know," Emmett said quickly.
Edward lifted his head, watching Emmett throw the flower's corpse to the forest floor. He felt bad now for even more trivial reasons. Emmett had planned to give the rare blossom to Rosalie.
"She's going to be okay, you know." Emmett sounded so sure.
Edward scanned his brother's thoughts, searching for the source of this certainty. He almost laughed when he found it. He supposed he had his answer.
"You think that I'm the reason she's going to be okay?"
"Are you blind?" Emmett lifted an eyebrow at him.
Edward snorted.
"She loves you."
"It takes more than love to repair the kind of damage I've done."
Emmett nodded. "Yeah, I guess." He thought of Alice and Jasper dressed in the guard's clothing in what he imagined the Volturi fortress looked like. The most distressing parts of the image, though, were Jasper's and Alice's brilliantly red eyes. Edward veered away from this part of Emmett's imagined tableau, trying to fill his mind's eye with what Emmett was thinking of Bella instead.
"You're on the right track, though, with where you're going next week." Emmett folded his arms, leaning against a large fir tree. "She'll be a lot less breakable when she's like us, too." His mind filled with the joys this life brought: of playing, of hunting, of lovemaking, of the peace of knowing your mate is safe. Secondarily, he considered the danger Victoria might bring if Bella remained human. Still, it was secondary. He didn't think she would get past the Cullens. The wolves' help was just icing on the cake, safety-wise.
Edward winced. How could he not? He'd fought so hard and so futilely for Bella to remain human. To see Emmett's version of things blanketed him with despair, and he gritted his teeth and hoped that Alice and Aro were regarding his and Bella's futures at this moment because it was a misery he wanted justified, seeing Bella so.
"Shall we head back?" Carlisle's voice drew Edward from his ruminations. He hadn't even heard him return.
"We'll see you in a bit," Emmett said. He eyed Edward in a way that suggested he had more to say.
Edward's gaze moved to Carlisle. As his sire stood, seemingly preoccupied with some distant item on the horizon, a glimmer of thought revealed that Carlisle had actually been considering other things he was trying to keep private. Edward hoped that his father's ability to obscure his thoughts was never tested by anyone with stronger skills than his, for he and Bella were already pushing the very limits of the Volturi and all their powers, and to do so was dangerous indeed. He could only pray his plan with Jacob worked, for there was so much more than his own life at stake if it didn't.
"I'll see you soon, then," Carlisle said.
Emmett's gaze followed Carlisle's trajectory as he left for home, and he waited until their father was several minutes gone before he spoke to Edward silently.
I'm surprised you haven't asked me about any of this stuff yet, or do you just pick it out of my head and think you don't need the help?
There had certainly been a time when Edward would have done that very thing, though for many months now, the opposite was true. His awareness of his own change in thinking did not deaden the sting of Emmett's criticism. It seemed that all he did lately was question his own actions where Bella was concerned.
"I think I can use all the help I can get."
At least she's made you see that about yourself. Emmett chuckled good-naturedly.
Bella had. He was better for being with her. "What should I . . . what do you think I need to know?" He listened as Emmett considered his question, the flurry of his brother's thoughts confusing as they flashed across his mind in pictures and moving clips of memories. Then Emmett settled on a feeling, and Edward had to close his eyes to cope with the strength of it.
"It doesn't go away."
Edward ground his teeth together. He'd hoped it would, but he'd doubted, too.
It isn't that I didn't get to kill them or in some way effect justice. It's that it happened at all. There is nothing more enraging than knowing—here he struggled for the right word. Mate was a term he did not like to use. Soul-mate was closer. Emmett wound back his thoughts to his sentence, using the term he liked least but that held both the gravity of emotion and animalistic urgency together: There is nothing more enraging than knowing someone has not just hurt your mate but robbed them of having that first experience as it should be. Being raped hasn't ruined lovemaking for Rosalie, but it—his thinking cut off. It was painful for him to put it into words, even in his thoughts. Emmett's mind continued the thought in wordless ways.
It didn't ruin it forever, but it tainted it far more regularly than he wanted to admit, not just for her but for him too. That part of her past stained other parts of their life also.
Edward caught a glimpse of the rage Emmett kept so carefully under wraps.
Yes, his family did know how to keep their thoughts from him at times, and he was glad.
"I'm sorry."
Edward shook his head, staring at the ground in front of him. "Thank you for being so honest."
Emmett was still contemplating something, and Edward waited with a growing sense of unease as he heard his brother's thoughts coalesce. When they did, Emmett chose not to speak his idea aloud. I guess the only difference is you saw everything, didn't you?
Edward didn't respond. He couldn't. He could see himself through Emmett's eyes and knew his brother could glean from his expression the agony he could no longer hide from him.
Emmett shook his head again and turned away, no longer watching Edward as if it were too painful for him to see his distress. "Dude."
There was so much empathy and understanding in that simple word that for the first time, Edward spoke aloud the thing he had thought he would never reveal.
"He . . . wanted me to see," he said, choking the words out. "Even when I tried to block his thoughts, he would send them to me. He would think my name when he was with her, knowing it would catch my attention, and . . . he would replay everything, every . . . interaction between them."
Emmett was quiet, but his thoughts roiled with his disgust and anger on Edward's behalf. Instead of this adding to Edward's emotional burden, he found that his brother's willingness to share his grief made it somehow more bearable in the moment.
"She can never know this," Edward said, "any of it. She can't know."
"I get it," Emmett said aloud. He finally faced Edward again, and their eyes met. "But, Ed, man, you gotta let it go. I don't know how, but you have to, for her."
"I know. I'm trying. But I wonder if she can." Here was his other fear, his greatest one.
She could still forget a lot of it. Images of Bella, newly made and red-eyed, danced through Emmett's thoughts again. There's been enough time. It won't be so fresh. Not like with Rose.
Edward made himself nod, smiling weakly. It was harder to maintain the pretense now. He swallowed, seeking to redirect Emmett's line of thinking. "Any other advice?"
Emmett looked sombre again, turning away and sighing as he silently and reluctantly brought up a different consideration.
Edward jerked his head up at his brother's thoughts. "Of course not!"
"That isn't just on you." Emmett sounded defensive. "What if she asks?"
"I think you've all seen exactly why that will never happen."
Emmett's eyebrows rose. "You do know how she'd take your refusal, right?"
Emmett's question drew Edward up short. "You think she'd believe—you think she'd see it as a rejection of her because what Demetri did somehow . . . what, 'sullied' her?" The idea was ludicrous to him.
"I'd think that you of all people would understand that yes, that's exactly how she would interpret it." While Emmett was trying to be polite, he was also thinking that for a mindreader, Edward seemed pretty fucking obtuse sometimes.
"I try to screen out most people's thoughts, Emmett, especially ones that are so personal."
Emmett shook his head slightly but not unkindly. "You can't say no if she asks. At least, you can't refuse her outright. I get that you don't want to hurt her, and I can totally see why you'd be afraid to try while she's human, but you need to convince her that you want to, and then talk about the . . . physical concerns."
Would she ask? He'd considered that it might be part of their future, but it was something that lived in their very distant future, at least in his mind, and only if she were like him. But Emmett might be right. If she asked, he needed to be prepared for that. He pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking.
Emmett laughed a little. "Yeah, you can pretty much overthink anything."
He offered Emmett a familiar and disapproving glare.
Emmett smiled in his good-natured way but then became serious again. "You know her, Edward. You love her, and she sure as hell loves you. You have everything you need with that, at least now." He thought of the ways Edward had changed since he'd met Bella and particularly how he was since their return. His thoughts were nothing but approving.
Perhaps, Edward conceded to himself.
"But you need to believe that because she'll know if you don't." The warning tone in Emmett's voice was unmistakable.
Here Edward disagreed. He had kept so much from Bella far too successfully and with far too much damage.
Through Emmett's eyes, Edward's doubt showed clearly on his face.
"No, it's . . . different." Emmett tried unsuccessfully to hide just how much. While he didn't want to reveal more of his intimacies with Rose than necessary, he did so now, showing Edward exactly how much one's mate could sense their partner's apprehension and how it could spoil a moment between them.
Edward suppressed a growl of frustration. This was something else he hadn't considered although he had to admit to himself that he'd had little reason to. Not only had he diligently turned his thoughts away from family members during any intimacies over the years, he had also never considered what such intimate moments would be like with Bella—at least, not while she was human.
Emmett stepped away, not to leave but as a way to mark the end of the conversation. "You're enough as you are, Edward. You just need to believe that."
Edward could only hope that he was.
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.
