CPOV: (Carlisle Cullen's Point of View)
~Riverdale crossover~
I hurried home, with so much haste that everything around me turned into a blur, I seemed to get faster but the screams grew louder, ringing in my ears. The cool October air blowing past me as I made it to my home. Finally making it to the porch, worn by the weather, bleached by the sun, just the same as the rest of the deteriorating home. The paint on the steps and on the wooden planks on the wraparound used to be a beautiful light blue, now it looked of a watery grey, and the house itself could tell one it's age without speaking. The white paint of the dwelling was peeling away, revealing the rotting pine underneath, once I pushed onto the partially broken down door and stepped in, the sanctuary groaned. I set down my tattered, dirt covered medical bag. A red liquid splattered over the right side of the vintage leather. Not too long after setting down the receptacle, I too dropped to my knees, a loud thud following on contact..
Just then I hear a knock on my office door, and I am brought out of the memory, I could feel my eyes change from one color to the next.
"Just a second." I speak, startled by my voice and the way it came out in a panic. I felt as though my heart should have been racing as I opened my dark wooden desk drawer, running my hand into it, feeling around the dark box for my small circular mirror, once found, I pulled it out and looked at my reflection. My eyes met each other. I could see the gold consuming, what had the resemblance of an obsidian coffin, but instead of the beautiful bright gold, it looked rusted, almost as if my eyes were forcing themselves to look normal. It reminded me that I had to act the same. I return the looking glass to its resting place in the commode, sliding it shut. "You may enter." I finally finished. I settled my breathing which I had just noticed was somewhat uneven. It must have been out of habit. The normal human reactions somehow stuck with me throughout the centuries.
"Hey Carlisle," The sound of Rosalie's gentle voice calmed me for a moment. I heard the door gradually open and her enter, but she didn't close it behind her causing me to look up slightly. She wore a pair of pleather pants with gold zippers at the knees, which she carefully matched with a black peplum camisole. Her lips stained red and her feet accompanied with a pair of leopard leather pumps. "Emmett and I are planning a hunting trip with the family. They wanted me to ask you if you would like to join us." I meet Rosalie's eyes, hers a harsh gold, showing that it wouldn't be too long before they would fade to black, due to hunger. I noticed her slight alarm when she began to observe mine, making me grab an average sized book off of my desk and head over to a shelf behind me, I walked over in an attempt to keep my eyes away from hers. Hoping she would forget the shade of mine.
"I'll be okay, I can hunt later, I have to work late tonight at the hospital, I have a pile of paperwork I forgot in my office that I have to finish and go over with Doctor Snow." I kept my voice at a normal tone. And I wasn't completely lying, I did have some patient paperwork, as well as having to speak with John, but I didn't have to do it tonight. To tell the truth I could do it whenever, but now would be best, to take my mind off of the past, or more likely, give me more time to think about the possibilities if things had been different.
What if I saved the women and children that begged me to help them? What if I hadn't helped Edward? What if I ignored his mother?
I set the book onto the self without looking at the name, all I knew was that it was a hardcover, murky green, and a relatively, medium sized volume.
"Okay," I can hear her soft foot steps backing out of the room and her right hand sitting around the edge of the door. I continued to keep my back to her, making it seem as though I found another book by pulling out a paperback, it wasn't much bigger than the last, still somewhat thin. My eyes scanned over the cover, searching for the title but the cover was blank, as was the back, and the spine was identical. The color was an aged white, as well as dusty, I attempted to brush away the filth with my breath, blowing softly. It seemed to help ever so slightly, but I refused to use my hand as a rag and smear the muck, by the looks of the small story I held in my left hand, it was old, nearly as old as me but not quite. " are you sure you don't want to come? It could be fun." She tried to sound inviting. But her voice froze me, my breathing paused, and I almost forgot what was going on as my mind traveled back to the now and my breathing resumed.
"I'm okay.." I pause realizing my words acted as swords. I finally turned to her, failing to remember the reason for my back facing her. "..my dear, I'm sorry." Her hand had pulled away from the door, her body and feet found a new resting place a few steps back. "I will pass for now. I'm just a little stressed." As I made my way across the room to her I set the book down on the desk and met her at the doorway. I kiss her cheek, followed by a soft peck on her pale forehead. My cool hands cradling the sides of her skull then finding their way to her shoulders. My eyes met hers and I can feel mine calm as I look at my daughter. She smiles slightly. "Next time, I promise." I return the smile.
She nods and leaves, I listen for the sound of her footsteps and I wait for them to fade into silence before getting to work. Once gone, I made quick work of grabbing my medical bag, taking the book on my desk and slipping it into a small pocket on the side, I would have to look at what it was once I was at the office. I gently pull on the metallic zipper, sealing it shut. Moving from one end of the room to the other, I grabbed some more medical equipment that I had taken out to clean and returned them to the bag and into their assigned places. When done I head down stairs into my Mercedes, starting it immediately. And now I had to wait for it to warm up, I didn't want to stop moving mainly because I wanted to keep my thoughts away. But I could feel my vision moving from now to before. Old faces from one hundred years ago, looking as if I saw them yesterday, but the main one that stood out was Elizabeth Mason, the mother of Edward. The woman that could only think of her beautiful sons health when she layed, dying of Influenza in that disgusting hospital bed that I had to roll her deceased body out on, the cleanest thing that had touched her since she was admitted to the hospital was the white sheet that I used to cover her expired, cold body.
I shook the pictures away once the sound of the engine began running smoothly, relaxing my right hand onto the automatic gear shift and pushing my right foot onto the brake, I pulled the shifter into the Drive notch. Moving my foot from the break to the accelerator, the car slowly began to move, but it wasn't slow for long. Within about five minutes or so I made it to the hospital, all the while focusing on the road. Trying to keep my thoughts focused on my destination. The office. Once in the parking lot with the car off, I headed inside. Keeping my head down, eyes on the floor tiles in front of me, hoping no one would call out my name. Finally, my office door, I quickly opened and made my way in, locking it behind me. I chuckled softly. The way I must've looked to anyone standing around. If anything it drew more attention. I couldn't even recollect if the lights were on. All I remembered is the dirty floor of the emergency room. I parted two of the blinds of the shades covering the window to see out of the dark room, two of the newer nurses were looking at my entrance door with a look of confusion and concern. I let out a humorous puff of air and headed to my black leather chair. Unlike my home office, this desk was covered with papers, both work and non-work related. From the moment I sit down my mind crawls back to the memories, finally accepting them. Like a movie going from pause to play, my mind picked up when my knees dropped.
Oh the sorrow I felt, the pain, the hurt. If I were alive I would've cried, the only thing that assured me of what little emotion I could exude was the globus sensation deep in my throat. Even though I wanted to help all of those poor souls I knew that it was not my place to play god. Besides, who was I to enforce immortality unto them, immortality that even I hated. Even if they knew what saving them would entail they wouldn't truly understand. But even if I did change any other human in the time of the terrible flu, who's to say they wouldn't hate me for it? The way Rosalie did. What was there to keep them from turning into a savage, to keep them from turning against me? In a way I suppose it was good that I went against my urge to help and save. There was no way to tell the future, not then at least. But I don't even think Alice could know.
If I had changed any more than Edward I would've hated myself all the more. Hated myself for damning them to this life.
Slowly settling my bum down onto the dirt covered heels of my shoes, I tilted my head back slowly, looking up to the heavens.
"Why me?! What's wrong with you?! Look at them!" I shout in anger, as if He was going to answer. "Your people." My voice softens. My body shook with the overwhelming rage that was built up inside. The frustration dared to consume me. Crying did not come easy to me, so what other ways were the emotions allowed to spill out? It felt like I was a dam and finally, the water was too much and the pressure started to overcome the already cracked cement. For now it was only releasing in spurts, but how long before the grey wall gives way, and collapses?
I let out a sigh of what sounded as though I would be okay now, but I knew it was not yet over. The flood was near, and I didn't know how long I had to prepare.
I began to make my way up a set of scummy stairs, mold, dust, and the smell of mildew threatened to latch onto my already disgusting shoes, but with each step higher, the bacteria left me alone it seemed. I finally made it to the top of the staircase and paused, taking in the grim scenery of my makeshift office. What stood as a desk used to be the dresser from what used to be a childs room down on the main floor. The pen holder was a coffee cup, it was one of the few unbroken dishes in this home, in which I take refuge. I stood in front of the desk, leaning my hands down onto the wood, I let out a soft sigh, releasing some more tension as well as letting the table be my support. My eyes land on the blue veins on the back of my ice cold hands. Once these veins pumped red. They used to help my blood travel. Now they flow with the blood of animals. My eyebrows narrowed, my forehead creased, my dry lips pulled up in a snarl. And without thinking my left hand reached for the coffee cup and went from one moment to the next, flying out of my hand and into the circular window that led out of the attic. Shattering the small opening and the cup was no more.
"Why did you save me?!" I shout looking up at the ceiling. I wanted to curse Him. I wanted Him to know my pain. "What do you want me to do? How dare you give this tremendous amount of power to me and not tell me what to do with it! Give me a damn sign!" My voice comes down. "Have you left me?" I finally exhaled, once again realizing my body wasn't working with me.
Again I was brought out of the scene by rapid knocking on my door. I got up and in a flash I stood at the light switch, flipping it up and returning to my seat with the same amount of haste.
"Come in." I make quick work of finding a clipboard, scanning over it and reaching for a black, unfortunately, ballpoint pen.
"Hello, Carlisle." Jessica, the head nurse and my right hand in the hospital stepped in. Dark blue scrubs that complimented her milky complexion. It's only when she clears her throat that I notice that I was leering at her body. She was gorgeous, there was no denying. But alas I had to make eye contact. Her eyes were a piercing blue, more enticing than mine when my heart was still beating, three hundred and fifty eight years ago. Her lips were a light pink and her top perfectly white teeth gently rested on the left corner of her bottom lip. I hold my amusement.
"Is their something you need Jess?" I finally break the silence. And her poor, embarrassed self began to blush.
"Um, yes, we have a gunshot victim and we need your help." And with that my adrenaline kicked in.
"Why didn't you page me?" I yank my white coat off of the rack in my office and pull it on along with my stethoscope.
"I'm sorry. Um," I knew I hurt her a little with my rough approach and aggressive tone but I wasn't going to apologize.
"Where's the shot?" I ask, my words moving quickly as I walk beside her, leaving my office door slightly ajar. Oh how much I wished I could just work at my pace, but I had to remain inconspicuous.
"The bullet penetrated his lower left abdomen, it doesn't look like a normal bullet hole, I think it was made by a musket ball. The only name we could get out of him was Archie before he passed out, he looks about nineteen or so, maybe seventeen. His blood type is A negative. And speaking of blood, he's losing lots of it." I was pleased to hear her talking quickly. Although I was still frustrated that she didn't just page me. I felt like I was rushing to Edward again, rushing into his hospital room and trying to fulfill the promise I made to his mother moments before her passing and seconds before his.
I shut my eyes for a moment while I walked towards the scent of the blood, breathing in the smell seemed to push the memories away. I had to focus. The burning in my throat seemed to help but it was a throbbing pain. My eyes fly open at the precise moment I hear the hospital curtain pull away by the help of Jess.
"Are you okay Doctor?" She questions, her voice full of worry. All I could do is nod. But once my eyes found the wound it made me think of the war, and how I had to save Garrett's sister, she was ambitious, so much so that she tried to pass as a man in order to save the country that she called home and to be closer to her brother. She too, had been shot with a musket. Of course in that time it made sense, that was the weaponry of the age.
I could feel my eyes threatening to fade to black. My throat burned and my body grew tense. I looked around for the stainless steel sink to wash my hands even though there was no need for it, due to me being dead, germs seemed to be repelled by me, seeing as they have no host. After I finish drying the moisture I find the blue gloves that were labeled "non latex" since I hadn't the slightest clue of what he was allergic to, I slip them on and turn back to his unconscious body that laid peacefully on the medical bed.
"Jessica, pass me the scissors." I speak with authority, holding my left hand out, feeling the cold medal touching my skin. I begin to cut away the fabric of his white t-shirt. He was well built, pale, must've played some football by the looks of it. His hair was orange, or red, I never did understand why they called people with orange hair, red heads.
I turned to Jess, slightly opening my mouth to ask for a soft damp washcloth to remove any blood, dried or still bleeding, around the area but it seemed that she could read my mind because there in her hand was what I needed. I take it from her hands with my right hand, returning the surgical scissors from my left back to the tray. I begin to wipe away the DNA, some of the thick substance clinging onto the synthetic plastic. My mouth slightly hung open, my own body yearning for just the smallest taste, I closed my mouth to keep from looking strange to Jess.
Finally the red was somewhat gone except for the small amount that insisted to flow from the wound. I dropped the rag onto the floor beneath me, I knew it was sloppy of me but I was not going to stop focusing on the opening. I reached out my hand for the medical tweezers. Luckily Jess was still in sync with me, it made my work that much easier. Quickly moving over the top of the hole, using three of my senses, smell, eyesight, and hearing to locate the bullet I gently moved the tweezers into the aperture, I could smell the lead coming from the ball, I could see a small amount of the dark gray peaking through the flesh, almost like it were playing hide and seek and I was the seeker. My ears pick up on the tweezers making contact with the lead of the pellet, gently pinching around it and carefully pulling it out. I dropped it into a small metal bowl that Jess held in her hands. I took in one more breath to find out if he held another orb inside of him but there was nothing but blood.
"Jess do you mind getting me another pair of gloves?" I hold my hands up to her, her soft hands taking the nitrile rubber off of my hands and replacing them with a fresh pair of gloves and a clean damp rag to erase the drying fluid. Then grabbing a needle filled with a numbing agent in case he wakes up before I finish sewing him up.
"Doctor Cullen, I've been paged to-" she began nervously.
"Go, I can finish this up." I stopped her before she finished, glad to work at my speed, once gone I grab a cotton swab and dip it into a caramel colored substance, meant for disinfecting as well as numbing an area. I quickly rub it around the area that I need to suture. Again dropping the cotton ball on the ground I move to grab a clean pair of tweezers and nylon thread, as soon as I begin to sew him up I am finished, snipping away the excess thread.
This is where my mind wandered off again. Remembering the last steps I made to Edwards room, those last words I said before turning, and the start of even more self hatred. He was the first I had ever turned and it hurt the worst, the pain was fresh in my mind. My throat started to burn again and my vision wasn't seeing what it was supposed to be looking at as I made my way back to my office to clean up. And there I was, stuck in my brain once again. Rolling Edward out on a gurney with a sheet over his body. The same way I had taken his mother, only this time it was not to drop him off with the other bodies, to be cleaned, clothed and prepped, to either be burned or buried. No, this time I was taking his body back home, laying him on my kitchen table that I was sure would've broken if I hadn't already rebuilt it a few different times and watching him scream out in pain, getting louder and louder as the venom spread throughout him, changing him, freezing him, killing him. I could still remember the smell of my house that night. His scent filled the entire home. That night seemed longer, drawn out, and it only got worse once the shrieks stopped.
In that silence I remember watching his nervous system shut down. The last twitches that his fingers gave, the hair on his neck settling, his face relaxing, his muscles releasing, his legs that were once, propped up in pain finally going limp. And his eyes. I lifted his eyelids gently with the edge of my left thumb, starting with the right eye, and ending with the left. The color was drained. Even the gloomy sky outside above the house had more depth to it. The next three days were so silent, it seemed as though even the mice that were around held their breath. The cockroaches stayed away from him, spiders seemed to scurry away with so much haste it made me think there was an earthquake coming. Little did I know there was.
On the third day, there I was, sitting in a small white chair meant for a child's tea party, I finally heard something move, at first I thought, maybe it was the seat I rested in, perhaps it was ready to give way under my weight, or maybe it was the mice scampering around on the attic floor above me. But no. When I finally allowed myself to look at him I could see his veins, colored a soft pink, beginning to pulse for the last few seconds before his eyes flew open. The sound of him breathing in the air for the first time with his new body sent chills down my spine. What was he smelling, what taste did the smell leave on his tongue, what was he thinking? Sitting up slowly, I remember him turning to me. Eyes a bright read, just as mine were in the beginning, he didn't even speak, he stood, looking at me, seeming as though he were sizing me up but all he did was step closer and breathe me in. I attempted to hide my nervousness, imaging he was a dog and treating him with the same caution. "Don't be nervous" I thought."He may sense it and attack." He then let out a booming laugh.
"I'm not an animal, and besides, if I were to attack you, I do believe I would destroy you right now." Came his voice, prideful. With a hint of worry, and pain. I was surprised though. How could he know what I was thinking without me speaking.
Of course, throughout the years we got to know one another, our tics, what amuses us, what attracted us, and of course, we learned each other's weaknesses. Mine was humanity. He was alone.
Day after day would go by, I had no need to speak except for the times we argued. Again it was a human trait that clung to me like the guilt I can't seem to let go. Those nights were lonely though, even with the company of Edward. Up until I met her.