It was a fact of Carlisle's life that once things started going wrong, they went wrong all at once.
Entire decades could go by perfectly uneventfully, and then as if to catch up on the backlog he would suddenly be flooded by one crisis happening after the other.
For centuries, he'd been a lone nomad, flitting in and out of the human world as a young doctor. Then, within a few scant decades, he'd somehow amassed a coven whose size was second only to the Volturi.
Going to Volterra to help Aro out was not a problem, not on its own. Yes, he was displeased about the reason, but he wouldn't classify it as a crisis.
His entire family insisting on coming along, except for Alice and Jasper who were convinced she'd be locked up in a tower with Aro swallowing the key should she ever step foot in Volterra, however, that was… that had not been according to plan.
Still not a crisis, of course, just not ideal.
Then, Edward had walked into class, and out of all the humans in the world, Marcus' student had to be Edward's singer. Something so rare that it was only by chance and the fact that Aro talked about anything under the sun that Carlisle even knew what a 'singer' was.
That would be the part where Carlisle flipped the light signal from green to red, situation no longer under control.
Then, when Rosalie had been persuaded reluctantly to take Edward's place, she had apparently not been warned about the subject of the class and had spent the better part of the afternoon screaming at anyone who'd listen about how unprepared she'd been.
And, of course, Esme still not quite understanding why Edward had been sent home in the first place.
With all these problems piling up, Carlisle had surely thought he'd had enough on his plate.
That, surely, things could not get worse from here on.
He must've jinxed it.
At least, that was how it felt when Aro paused to retrieve an impressive amount of cleaning supplies from a closet, before continuing towards the bath.
Where he was now on his knees, scrubbing frantically at the tiled floors while Carlisle oversaw the pool's draining.
Carlisle wasn't sure what he'd done wrong in his past life, or even this life, but it must have been something utterly ridiculous.
"Oh god. Carlisle, is this corroding the color?" Aro asked in a panic, and before Carlisle could even answer, Aro whined, "It's corroding the color! Damn it all, they emptied the quarries of this stone centuries ago. This can't be replaced!"
He then got to work removing the detergent, looking more stressed than ever.
"And even if we replace the stone, there are no artisans who do this craft anymore," Aro continued whining, as he always did over the decay of human mastery in any variety of subjects (he'd made the same complaints in the 18th century when Carlisle had had the misfortune of breaking one of Aro's tables in an effort to be enticing).
Carlisle pointedly did not look at the admittedly very impressive mosaic to see if the color was corroding. This, he decided, was not going to be his problem.
And yet he was draining the pool.
And then, because this was simply not Carlisle's day, his phone rang.
Carlisle glanced down at the number and was unsurprised to see who it was.
"It's Edward," he muttered to Aro, whose eyes widened.
Aro let out a truly impressive curse.
Well, Carlisle thought to himself with a wry smile, at least he was about to have a worse time than Carlisle. Although, just why Aro appeared to think so poorly of Edward-it still wasn't something he'd fully explained or even bothered to explain at all.
"Don't worry, I won't tell him," he reassured Aro, who sagged in relief.
In truth, he…
Well, Carlisle had no particular bond with Marcus, really he had none at all. Marcus had always been simply there, rather like a piece of furniture rather than a person. He was inseparable from Volterra, a part of its aesthetics, but not something Carlisle had ever paid much mind to.
But, the vampire world loved to gossip about the Volturi. Carlisle had heard no small amount of sex dungeon rumors over the centuries, to say nothing of the common misconception that Corin's power was to induce a sexual haze of utter arousal.
Yes, if Edward heard about Marcus and Bella, he would be scandalized, as he should be. Carlisle could not guarantee that he wouldn't vent to the Denali about it.
And if the Denali found out–
Well.
Not to mention that Edward was sure to have enough on his plate. What with his recent humiliation, his lapse in control, and the fact that he had been sent home without his family. Edward-he had not looked well when Carlisle had dropped him off in Rome.
Yes, hearing that Marcus, who fed on humans and made no effort to live among them, was casually having sexual relations with the human Edward couldn't be in the same room with, would not do Edward any good.
"Edward, hi," Carlisle greeted warmly as he picked up the phone.
"Carlisle," he heard Edward's voice sigh through the tinny speakers. "It's good to hear your voice."
Aro paused in his scrubbing for a second, a pointedly blank look on his face, before he resumed scrubbing. Whatever thought had just crossed his mind kept to himself.
"You too," Carlisle said, then before Edward could ask, "You've arrived in Denali, then?"
"Yes, yes I have," Edward confirmed. "Alice and Jasper picked me up, I just got back."
"And Tanya and the others are well?" Carlisle prompted.
"Yes, they're doing well," Edward confirmed, "They seem to be between boys at the moment."
Aro's rag went over something uneven and he swore, loud enough for Edward to hear.
"Carlisle, Marcus broke one of the tiles!" Aro complained in outrage.
"Ah, yes," Carlisle quickly replied, "Aro's here, you caught me in the middle of a discussion with him."
"... At this time of night?" Edward asked after a very long pause.
"... We're vampires," Carlisle said after a moment, in a far too upbeat voice.
"Yes, but, ah, at home this is when-I mean-with Esme-" Edward's voice fell off.
Oh, oh dear.
There were a few aspects of Carlisle's marriage that he-had never necessarily said aloud but he'd thought should be fairly obvious. Especially to Edward who had not only been there for Esme's human past but for their first year of marriage.
What Edward meant, of course, was that when they lived among humans and Carlisle spent the day working and the others at school-night was when Rosalie and Emmett had sex. Edward usually left the house, all but ran from it but-
Apparently, Edward had assumed this was when Carlisle and Esme also had sex. Soundless, silent, sex.
Carlisle opened his mouth, and closed it again like a fish. He sent a despairing look towards Aro, who gave him an equally wide-eyed look back.
It was a look that said, "You're on your own, Carlisle, because I care more about these goddamn tiles."
Carlisle widened his eyes further at him. "Oh, Edward, you see-" he tried.
Luckily, Aro seemed to catch on, because he interrupted.
"He's not playing doctor," Aro said loudly enough for Edward to hear, "He no longer has reason to dictate his sexual relations around a nine to five schedule."
Carlisle cringed, and closed his eyes.
Aro had not caught on, then.
Aro gave him a shrug and the look of a man who thought he'd helped.
Edward was silent for a moment.
Then, "Why are you with Aro? And what's that sound in the background, like–" Carlisle could hear Edward concentrating, struggling to identify the sound of a pool the size of a football court draining.
"He's a friend," Carlisle said, "And the noise is-I'm doing laundry."
Aro's face scrunched up in confusion, and his hand stopped scrubbing.
"Laundry," Edward repeated dully.
"Yup," Carlisle said, "Aro is… he's quite Spartan like that. Doesn't trust anyone with his precious textiles, so he does it himself. I thought I'd accompany him, I always did back in the 18th century. It's… it's good fun, watching Aro with his laundry. He's… very good at it."
This was true, for the record. Oh, he had apparently installed modern washing machines and dryers, but when it came to the more delicate clothing that apparently was all washed by hand. Because damned if Aro was going to ruin his centuries' old suit.
"I get to help with his cloak sometimes," Carlisle added lamely. Hoping that, somehow, it would make it more believable.
"You never help Esme with the laundry," Edward said after a beat of silence.
"Oh, um," Carlisle said, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
How did he even get in this situation?
Oh yes, that was right. Goddamn Aro and his emergencies.
"She just… puts things in the laundry machine. Been there, done that myself, you know, and I've already seen all the clothes. Not terribly exciting. Aro's 19th century handkerchiefs on the other hand, my god, Edward. And the way he stiffens them, my God. If you could see the one I'm holding right now… such craftsmanship."
For the record, Carlisle had no idea what he was saying.
Nor, by the utterly dull look Aro was giving him, did Aro.
He'd… Well, no, he was a fantastic liar. He had to be in his line of work. Of course he was a father of five and forty, why would you ever ask? (When 'Arrested Development' had come out, Carlisle may have felt far too much of a sense of kinship with Maeby Fünke's despairing "Marry me!")
However, he was only good at a certain kind of lying. Dig deep enough, get past the superficial lies that allowed him to interact with the human world as he did, and it all fell to pieces. He tended to ramble nonsense.
"Yes, but-I know it's not my place, but I'm sure she'd love for you to help," Edward said, "I mean, if you're helping Aro with his laundry, then it's only fair."
"Right," Carlisle squeaked. "Right. I'll do that. Gonna be great. Thanks, Edward, you're such a good son."
Edward's voice was warm again when he replied. "No, it's you who is the good father," he said.
Aro had stopped scrubbing entirely, was now gaping at Carlisle, his eyes looking like they were about to pop out of his head.
"Oh, you," Carlisle said, for a lack of anything else to say.
Then, "Oh, oh, he's taking out the embroidered wall tapestries. He's gonna rinse them! I'm sorry, Edward, but I really can't miss this. I'll take pictures! I'll call back later, we'll talk then. Call your mother, she's very distraught right now."
Then he hung up, Edward's protests still echoing through the acoustic room..
"Carlisle-" Aro said, opening his mouth and closing it, finally he appeared to tell himself to damn it all, "Carlisle, you must know your son was flirting with you."
"What?!" Carlisle asked, nearly dropping his phone into the half-drained pool.
"I just…" Aro trailed off, and shook his head. "You're as oblivious as you always were," he sighed.
"I-When-He clearly referred to me as his father!" Carlisle pointed out, as Edward in fact had, not two seconds ago with 'You're a good father'.
"I know," Aro said, nodding slowly with wide eyes, "And yet…"
He did not finish.
Instead, he went back to scrubbing.
Carlisle stared at him for a moment, wondering if he was going to elaborate on that.
It appeared the answer was no.
Well, that was for the best, Carlisle very much didn't want to know. Not that Aro was correct, of course, even if he had had a look inside Edward's head. Whatever he thought he saw-Well, Carlisle and Edward weren't technically related, and there may have been a period where Edward hadn't quite seen him as a father yet.
But Carlisle had let Edward define their relationship, and Edward had decided very early on that they were father and son.
Carlisle suspected that whatever Aro had seen in Edward's mind the day before that alarmed him so, now made him suspect every word out of Edward's mouth. Bias, after all, was a powerful thing.
"Out of curiosity," Aro said as he resumed scrubbing, "Are you going to help your wife with the laundry?"
Carlisle glared at him. "Of course. I never realized she was upset about the work division, I'm more than happy to do my share. We can divide the week, for instance, or I can take over the laundry altogether. It's not like I didn't do all my laundry for centuries, and that was without laundry machines. I'm really rather good at it." He shrugged.
Aro stopped scrubbing for a moment to give Carlisle a look. He set his brush aside with a sigh, "Carlisle, given my current situation, I realize it's a bit rich for me to offer any advice on family whatsoever. However, you must realize that- Your wife is a perfectly wonderful woman, incredibly sweet, but she seems to have elected to be your maid."
"What?" Carlisle asked.
"Do you sleep with her?" Aro asked, knowing perfectly well the answer.
Carlisle felt a flash of sudden anger, thinking of Esme's past, her marriage to her first husband, and the exact reasons why his and Esme's had never been a 'traditional' marriage in any sense of the term, "You know why-"
"Does she do your laundry? Your cooking? Your cleaning? Does she do anything else of any import in your daily life?"
Carlisle gaped at him. He wasn't even angry anymore, he was–
"Look," Aro said, and held both hands up, "I'm not trying to put you on the spot, and I realize that our history together makes this– understand that I have no agenda, I'm saying this only as a friend."
"You're in a bathrobe," Carlisle spat. On a bathrobe on his hands and knees, no less. Because it seemed Aro had forgotten that little detail.
"Happy to take it off, if it upsets you," Aro quipped, before he continued, "My point, Carlisle, is that your son asked you to accompany your wife with the laundy, and your immediate response was that you can resume the chore. Surely you recognize that you missed his point entirely."
Carlisle paused for a moment, reflected, and to his utter horror realized that Aro had a point.
"Do you think I should do it with her then?"
Except, what was there to do? It was literally two seconds. They poured in the clothes, the detergent, and off the machine went. Then, when it was done, you put it in the dryer. It was not a mentally stimulating or even a time intensive task.
If it made Esme happy, he could do it with her, but it would only be a few seconds with her. Frankly, it would be weird.
Perhaps if Edward had said to spend time with Esme when she cleaned the house, that was much more time consuming.
But the laundry?
Aro only stared at him, something in his eyes making it clear that no, he did not think Carlisle should do the laundry with Esme.
"Carlisle, my old friend," Aro said, picking up his brush, "I have no wish to be your marriage counselor, though you desperately need one. I suppose-I only wish you the best of luck, for you will surely need it in the times ahead."
"The times ahead?" Carlisle asked with a forced laugh, "What's that supposed to mean."
Aro gave him a look again, "You know, Carlisle, that this life of yours won't last forever. The era of technology is upon us, and you above all people must bend in the wind. When Google stores your name and face in a server that can be accessed in seconds, it will end, all of it. What will your wife do, when there are no more houses, no more stoves, and no more washing machines?"
"She'll get along," Carlisle replied with a frown. "She won't like it, but none of us will. Look at you, you're not exactly freed from material possessions."
Aro shook his head. "It's not the same, Carlisle, and you know it."
Carlisle had never in his life been more tempted to point at a random spot in the bath and say "Ohh, no, look at those cracks!"
Unfortunately, he did, in fact, know what Aro meant. Aro might be a hoarder, might love his prized library as well as his precious Roman bath, but it did not define him. Were he to lose these things, he'd be upset, but he would not be ruined.
Carlisle did often wonder how his family would get by without their cars, without their televisions, their games, and the human charade they'd perfected over the past several decades.
He sighed, some of the fire going out of him.
It was pointless to get upset with Aro, pointless and childish. Former lover or not, Aro was his closest friend, the one who knew him best in this world.
Carlisle wasn't sure if he trusted the man in the traditional sense of the word. Aro was too– unknowable, he supposed. He understood the man as well as Aro would allow, but there was always the knowledge between them that Aro would choose the Volturi, and power, first.
And as such, Carlisle would not trust him unconditionally, the way he did Edward or Rosalie, as he knew Aro would follow his own star. But he would trust Aro with just about anything else.
As the last of the water drained from the pool, Carlisle picked up a brush, and joined Aro in scrubbing down the tiles.
"What do you think I should do?" he asked after a few seconds.
Aro gave him a look, then blew out a very long sigh, "I'm afraid I haven't the foggiest. Carlisle, my dear, you must realize your life is perfectly bizarre."
Carlisle smiled wryly. "So I've been told."
Aro smiled back.
Then his smile faded, he looked truly serious for a moment, "Well, if you want to hear it-I'm not saying you should abandon your Edward, that would do no one any good, but-I would advise you to prepare yourself mentally for the worst."
Carlisle opened his mouth to say something, anything–
But the look in Aro's eyes was too sincere.
He truly meant it.
Carlisle resumed scrubbing, not realizing he'd stopped.
"What, exactly, am I preparing myself for?"
"I don't know," and the way Aro said it, he meant it, "It could be any number of things. However, if I were a betting man-I suspect it will come to a head with Bella Swan. This is what Marcus suspects as well."
Carlisle only stared at him, scrubbing absently at a piece of mural in the drained pool that depicted gladiators locked in glorious battle with lions.
"Understand he-wants to be a good person," Aro said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair, "And in his own way, he truly is a very moral man. He holds himself to his own internal standards with an impressive dedication. More, he adores you wholly, and he looks to your example in all things. This-this has helped him immensely, even when he chose to abandon you."
Carlisle continued scrubbing, keeping his eyes trained on the fierce-looking little Roman with a spear, who was not doing too well if the wound on his flank was anything to go by.
"But he despises himself," Aro continued, "He despises every facet of his being. Bella Swan, through no fault of her own, makes his true nature undeniable to him. Marcus, through his gift, can see him for exactly what he is, even though he can fool the world and even himself. This, beyond all other things, will push him to extremes I can scarcely begin to imagine."
Bella's potent scent was lifting, not altogether gone but not easily identified anymore either. The barest trace of lilacs and freesias remained in the air, a pleasant afterthought.
"Understand, Carlisle, that I don't think your son is evil, nor a cat among the pigeons. He did not choose to be what he is, and his endeavor to be good is a tragedy, in its own way, as he can never fully achieve it. Not while he doesn't understand it."
Finally, Aro said darkly, as if he could no longer hold it in, "I suspect, by the end of this, he will leave me no choice but to execute him. That, Carlisle, is what you should prepare yourself and your family for."
Still, Carlisle said nothing.
"On a more cheerful note, as to the rest of your family-" Aro said with a forced smile, then his smile disappeared, "No, actually, that's rather bleak as well. On that end-I suppose I just have to come out and say it, they're not you."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Carlisle asked.
"On second thought, I am in a terrible state of Marcus had sex-related stress, and don't know what I'm saying," Aro said, and to his credit his voice was pitched unusually high, "I know you asked for advice, my friend, but now is not a great time and why don't you come to me after you've done a bit of thinking and I've recovered. How does that sound?"
Carlisle stopped scrubbing altogether.
"What's wrong with my family?" Carlisle asked, "They can't be any worse than what you've said about Edward."
Aro made a whining sound. "I promise we can resume this conversation in a few hours?"
"Just give me the gist of it."
Aro looked so miserable.
It was remarkable, how a man with so much power, the de facto ruler of this planet for the past thousand years, could have so little impulse control when it came to the words that fell out of his mouth.
"They don't care about human life," he said in a quiet voice. "Not for its own sake. The closest seems to be Jasper."
Carlisle returned to scrubbing, let Aro's words process in the back of his mind. He was sure he'd still be processing them in a few hours, certainly by the time he next spoke with Edward. Edward, whose execution Aro had just prophesied…
He wanted to say he didn't believe it.
And he didn't, it was utterly absurd, all of it. Edward, out of all of them-He had always seemed to care the most about humans, for all that he complained about their thoughts and their petty drama. He cared so much that it seemed to hurt him.
And if they didn't care then what was the point? Their lives were incredibly hard, blending in was hard, time consuming, mind numbing, and downright painful. Resisting thirst was anything but pleasant. If they didn't care then why would they bother?
They would have left ages ago, had human life meant nothing to them.
But Aro knew people in a way Carlisle never could. Even Marcus, as much as Carlisle couldn't wrap his head around it, had a window into people's souls that Carlisle lacked. Carlisle didn't have a gift, he didn't see the inside of people's minds, and he would admit that there was much he didn't know about his family.
How much, after all, did they not know about him?
The head of his brush made contact with the tile with a loud, whining, sound, like nails on chalkboard.
Carlisle had pushed it too hard.
He stopped immediately, but there was now and would forever be one deep scratch along two of the tiles, giving one of the beautiful women he was currently scrubbing a scar right across her face.
Aro looked at it but-it said entirely too much that, for all he had just complained about Marcus' damage, he didn't say a word.
Carlisle set the brush aside, ran his hands through his hair, and all of a sudden a realization came upon him.
He looked over at Aro blankly and asked, "Wait, why am I doing this?"
"What do you mean 'why are you doing this'?" Aro frowned, his right hand still scrubbing at a particular spot on the tiles that smelled potently like Bella while his left scrubbed at a different tile.
"I mean, why am I helping cover up the fact that Marcus had sex with Bella?" Carlisle asked, then looking around in amazement added, "I don't see Marcus himself anywhere, cleaning this up."
Aro gave him a betrayed look. "Because no one can know, Carlisle!"
"Oh, I know why you're here," Carlisle said, but then motioned to himself, "But why am I here?"
"I told Caius that you were here with me," Aro said with a sigh, as if this were obvious, "He'll give this place wide berth until your scent dissipates."
"Why would you–" Carlisle began, but Aro waved a hand.
"He was headed here to bathe, and if he'd entered he would have smelled it! Carlisle, I would never hear the end of it. I had to get rid of him, and… no offense, my dearest friend Carlisle, but when I told him you would be down shortly and that we could all chat about the good old times, he vanished like smoke in the air."
Now, that was not shocking in the least.
"Wait," Carlisle said, "I understand keeping this from the wider world, even from the guard, but Caius?"
Aro opened his mouth, then closed it. Then, he closed his eyes. "There's a slight chance that I…" he sighed. "Panicked."
Carlisle raised a brow at him.
"Look," Aro said hurriedly, gesturing about himself, "how would you feel if– if it was Edward who had sex with a human? Or Rosalie? How would you react if they suddenly threw that at you, out of nowhere, and gave you no time whatsoever to process?"
Carlisle couldn't help his grimace as well as the very vivid and realistic scenario his mind supplied him. Oh, it'd be simple, they'd visit their cousins the Denali and Tanya would say, "Oh my dear Edward, poor virgin that you are, I have just the thing to lift your spirits. I found this lovely blonde for you, just your type."
And then Carlisle would be called in for the bloody aftermath as Edward had no experience taking any lover, let alone a fragile human.
Thankfully, Rosalie was happily married, and Edward would never. Certainly not with a human. "I suppose I'll never know," Carlisle said. And then, because he couldn't resist, "Unlike you."
He winked.
Aro made a face at him.
And then Carlisle's words caught up with him, "Bella-You completely distracted me from Bella!"
"What about Bella?" Aro asked in exasperation, "Do you know that Marcus accused me of wanting to bed her? The nerve of him, I swear."
"No, I– really?" Carlisle said, for a moment distracted yet again. Who knew Marcus had so much personality hidden under that lifeless shell? That sounded almost catty.
"Yes," Aro said, looking as if he'd wanted to complain about this for hours, "I mean, he meant it to be smart, but she doesn't even have the preferred equipment if you catch my drift. Lovely girl, of course, and I'm not altogether uninterested in women, but honestly."
"Aro, I don't care if Marcus accused you of wanting to sleep with every woman in Italy," Carlisle hissed, "I care about the fact that a vampire with no practice whatsoever had sex with a human woman, and she needs medical attention!"
"Oh, she's fine," Aro dismissed with a wave of his hand, "Even gave me a thumbs up and 'mission accomplished'."
"What does that even mean?" Carlisle asked.
"I have no idea!" Aro exclaimed, "But she said it and then waltzed off like it's a regular Tuesday, and Caius is next in line."
Carlisle had to admit, that was weird.
But, if Aro had been a doctor then he would have known that internal injuries, particularly internal bleedings, don't always make themselves known right away.
"Aro," he said slowly, "she could be very badly injured, even if she didn't show it. We need to take her to a hospital."
"No, no hospitals!" Aro said immediately, his hands flying up to cover his mouth.
"Aro, I do not have the equipment I need here. She's going to need an ultrasound, MRI, X-rays-"
"I'll get you everything you need!" Aro promised.
"You can't get me an MRI!" Carlisle spat back.
"I can within a few days! And I can get you an ultrasound right away. Several kinds."
"She might not have a few days," Carlisle hissed, "I shouldn't even have wasted time here. She could have hours, Aro. Damn it all, she may even have to be turned."
Aro whined again. "How about just the ultrasound, because I can have that in a few hours, and if she's fine then we wait for the MRI?"
"She needs a hospital," Carlisle repeated in a voice that brooked no argument.
"Where we will tell them what?" Aro asked, in a voice that brooked just as many arguments. "She rammed a steel pipe into herself?"
"It happens," Carlisle said shortly.
"Not with that amount of force. Carlisle, she's dainty and weak, in a fight between her and a housecat I'd bet on the housecat. No, they'll know someone did it to her, and they will think she's lying to avoid a rape inquiry."
"Well was she?" Carlisle couldn't help but blurt.
Aro blanched. "No!"
"Did you check Marcus' hand?" Carlisle asked.
"No, but– she seemed pleased with herself, Carlisle, very pleased with herself. And really, can you imagine Marcus taking any initiative whatsoever? He told me it was pity sex, that he felt too bad for her not to do it."
Carlisle had not wanted to imagine that and-Aro was right, he couldn't imagine it.
They both knew that Marcus had just supplied the penis.
"I'm going to see Bella," Carlisle said with a finger pointed at Aro.
"Yes, good, excellent," Aro said hurriedly. " And I'll get you the ultrasound. Oh, but just let me do one sweep of the pool before we go."
Unsaid was the fact that Bella Swan would not be going to the hospital.