And so the loops begin.

Warning: canon typical violence.

Chapter 2: Caught up in circles

The first time it happens he has no clue what to think. He goes round and round in circles, quite literally, trying to figure it out. He gets it wrong a lot. He's still not sure he ever got it right.

It's 1723 and he's in Volterra. The ancient city has been his home since 1700. He'd never really intended to stay, is always thinking about leaving, yet somehow it has never happened. There are several reasons why he stays, though they tend to all lead back to the same place. Or person, really. Aro.

The ancient vampire always sees the intention to leave in his thoughts. Because of his gift, he also knows Carlisle on an intrinsic level. Better than it should be possible to know another. He knows exactly how to make Carlisle stay.

It's all too easy really. Knowledge, culture, conversation. Carlisle curses himself for being so weak. He is a religious man. He knows all about temptation. For some reason, that doesn't make it any easier to resist his red eyed devil of a friend. Even when the screams of his latest victims still echo in the halls.

And Aro is always so infuriatingly thrilled to be cast as the devil in Carlisle's imagination.

"Carlisle, darling, you flatter me." He says.

He is no devil, really, though. Carlisle knows too much about his dedication to justice to believe that. In many ways, Carlisle supports his vision. The Volturi bring order to their world of monsters, protect them all from themselves and the human world from destruction. Sometimes he thinks this is why Aro really wants him to stay. Carlisle is his absolution.

In spite of all this, Carlisle's intention to leave is growing stronger. There are many good reasons that he should go. His conscience can hardly stand to see so many humans die needlessly, for one. It has long since been clear that no one in Volterra will convert to his lifestyle. He also worries about what willingly surrounding himself with demons is doing to his immortal soul (if he still has one). Pathetically, though, it's the approaching 23rd anniversary of his arrival here that is really telling him to move on. The longest time he has spent in a single place is still his human years in London. Somehow, if he chooses to spend longer than that here, it feels like the ultimate betrayal. It feels like admitting he will never leave.

Carlisle notices faint light beginning to filter in through the high windows and shakes away his musings. He has been studying in one of his favoured libraries, but the sun is almost fully risen and its high time to return to the safety of his quarters. In the distance he hears church bells chime seven and hurries to pack away. He usually leaves earlier than this, but most of the city will still be in shadow so he isn't majorly concerned.

With a quick nod for the scattered patrons and attendants he passes, Carlisle slips out of the door. He sticks to the left where the sun never reaches in the morning and winds through dark alleys without trouble, following the same route he always does towards a lesser-known entrance into the Volturi's sanctum.

An unfamiliar scent draws him to a halt just before he reaches his destination. Many of the undead pass through Volterra, so scents Carlisle doesn't recognise aren't necessarily unusual, but something about this one sets him on edge. Probably that the source is extremely close by. And that it's closely mingled with fresh human blood. The Volturi don't usually allow hunting on their doorstep.

He follows it around the corner and immediately sees where the scent is coming from. It would be hard not to. The vampire is standing in the sunlight, shining like the most extravagant crystal chandelier. He seems enchanted by his own skin and Carlisle realises immediately that this must be a new-born who has never witnessed their kind in the sun before.

He is a scrawny young man with ripped clothing, dirty and completely drenched in human blood. He must have just woken up. It seems his creator has abandoned him. He clearly has no idea what he is, or that if he is caught like this then his undead life will be over very quickly.

Carlisle's mind races. He cannot allow humans to stumble upon this sight. He must get the young man inside before he is noticed. New-borns are unpredictable, though. He has heard many tales of their strength, viciousness and predatorial instincts. Aro has told him at length how incredible it is that he had the clarity of thought to escape London as a new-born without attacking any humans. Carlisle isn't sure how to calm a confused new-born, but he definitely doesn't stand a chance at physically restraining him, so he'll have to do his best with his words.

Stepping forward, Carlisle clears his throat to try to draw attention to himself without appearing as a threat. The new-born jerks to attention in shock then instinctively settles into a defensive crouch, a warning growl ripping through his bared teeth. From his new position, Carlisle can see the slumped body of the unfortunate soul whose blood hangs in the air just behind him.

This is when he makes his first mistake. He is aware that the body must be disposed of and his reassurances of peaceful intent die on his tongue as he moves to do what needs to be done. In the heat of the moment, he forgets all about animal instinct. Approaching the new-born's prey is probably the worst thing he could have done.

Enraged, the new-born snarls and throws himself towards Carlisle. Bewildered, he tries to summon up whatever fighting instinct he has and faintly hopes the Volturi don't get too much of a laugh out of his pathetic death. Bracing himself for the impact, he turns his face away.

Carlisle notices faint light beginning to filter in through the high windows. Alarmed, he looks from side to side for the new-born he had just been facing, but all visual evidence confirms that he is in the library. He remains tense, searching for signs that this is some hallucination or trick, but nothing is out of place. It is exactly as he remembers it looking ten minutes previously.

The sun is almost fully risen.

Church bells begin to chime seven.

In a confused daze, Carlisle packs up and leaves the library, following the same route he could swear he has just walked. As he nears the entrance, he picks up that same scent. Ignoring every instinct which strains to follow the trail, he rushes inside.

If there really is an out-of-control new-born around the corner then this premonition, or whatever it was, is giving him the chance to avoid a fight he can't possibly win. He only feels a little guilty about the chance that he is condemning an innocent to exposure and execution by failing to help. Scratch that, a lot guilty. Still, he keeps walking.

After taking a moment to return some belonging to the small room he has been given use of, Carlisle finds himself too worked up to remain alone. He is of two minds about whether to speak to Aro about his strange experience. He is slightly worried that he might be going mad, and that Aro will only confirm it. He will find out as soon as he next touches Carlisle's hand anyway, though, and he might have some useful insights. Hopefully not ones along the lines of 'animal blood is clearly making you hallucinate, here, try this human'.

Predictably, he finds Aro, Caius and Marcus gathered with most of the guard in the central hall they favour. They are often found here in the morning, hearing the nights news, updating the guards' orders, and generally holding court. He picks his way around the edge of the room, knowing Aro has noted his arrival and will come to him when his business is concluded.

Before that can happen, Felix bursts through the main doors with the new-born restrained in front of him, Alec following just behind with his focus entirely on using his gift to keep the man subdued. Carlisle experiences a strange sensation in his chest, as though he can't breathe, but he doesn't need to breathe anymore so he knows it must be psychological.

Faintly, he processes Felix announcing they had apprehended him on a rampage that killed three humans, and it had been necessary to execute two more human witnesses. They had not yet identified the creator, but suspected it was the careless feeder they had already executed two days before and the current new-born was just the accidental transformation of a victim he had failed to actually kill. Carlisle is horrified as he realises that's four humans he might have saved if he had successfully intervened (Thankfully, he doesn't recall until much later that in different circumstances Felix might've been carrying back his broken remains).

Caius orders the execution as casually as a human might order breakfast. Carlisle must make some sort of sound because suddenly all eyes are on him. Aro calls his name questioningly, but it barely reaches him through the tidal wave of guilt he is drowning in. Overwhelmed, he runs from the room. Barely two seconds later, he is being restrained against a wall. Aro approaches with an almost comically concerned look on his face and reaches for his hand.

Carlisle notices faint light beginning to filter in through the high windows. Somehow, he is not surprised to find himself back in the library, with Aro nowhere in sight. The sun is almost fully risen. Church bells begin to chime seven.

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