Author's note: This was a hard chapter to write because it hit a little close to home, reminding me of a bout of depression and crippling self-doubt I went through in college. I think wanting to isolate yourself is a feeling a lot of people can relate to even if it's difficult to talk about.
Story should pick back up next chapter; sorry if this chapter is a little wordy.
Day Forty-Five of Forever:
Beau and Edythe were statues still as night crept into day, bathing the living room in the familiar grey light. The two of them had sat like that for a long time, not moving, not saying anything as they let themselves get washed away in their dark thoughts. The day stretched on unendingly.
Their family whisked in and out of the room, torn between the suffocating silence that pushed them away and yet still draw into the space for the want of their company. Worry was etched on each of their faces but they kept as upbeat a facade as possible, not wanting the couple to brood in their joint anguish alone.
Jessamine was especially in turmoil, knowing how helpful her gift was for her siblings but also repelled by the weight of their combined distress. She stayed beside them as long as she could stand but frequently had to excuse herself from their presence. Archie shared her dilemma, wanting to be there for his best friend and closest sister but still feeling partially at fault for letting himself be so distracted that he had not seen Victor's movements. His siblings did not blame him but that didn't mean he couldn't blame himself.
When he had tried to apologize to them for his perceived failure, Edythe quickly stifled him, not wanting him to over burden himself needlessly. "There wasn't anything more you could have done," she had assured him quietly before he could even speak aloud.
Beau nodded minutely in agreement. "We can't expect you to be on top of everything, Arch. I should have been paying more attention anyway-"
"We both should have been," she corrected him.
"You didn't know there was anything to be looking out for."
"And neither did you, love."
"I should have known," he disagreed sharply. "I should have been as suspicious of Lauren as you were, should have kept up on the feeding schedule you had me on before. None of this would have gotten this bad if I had."
"I was being overly cautious but not because I suspected what Victor had in mind. But having the advantage I had of seeing into his mind, I actually should have known he was a capable of such a reaction. I was too focused on Joss," she admitted bitterly. "I let my anger funnel my focus on only her when I should have looked at everything as a whole. I might have seen how treacherous Lauren was then, might have realized Victor was mated with Joss."
Archie's frown deepened. "If you can blame yourself for not picking out every little thing from everyone's thoughts ever then I get to blame myself for not watching for this threat." He sighed down to his core, his voice bleak but resolved. "But we can't beat ourselves up over this forever. Any of us." His tawny eyes were turned to Beau who pointedly avoided his gaze. "It was too close of a call but everyone is fine now. We should just be thankful for that and try to move on."
Archie sighed again when neither Edythe not Beau responded. He then attempted to change the conversation. "I guess this wouldn't be the best time to discuss opening your wedding gifts?"
"No it really wouldn't." Beau didn't mean to sound so gruff but he couldn't find the energy to fake the necessary enthusiasm.
Archie seemed to be expecting his response though and merely nodded. "Later then."
He disappeared upstairs soon after. Beau kept his eyes unfocused but glued to the television, seeming oblivious to everything around him, even his wife. She held his hand still, unwilling to go without touching him, propped up against his arm. Her thoughts alternated between swirling around her concern for her husband and agonizing over the role she played in Beau's torment.
She knew Archie's comment about not blaming themselves forever was targeted largely at Beau, but he had chastised her inside his thoughts as well for letting her own pain feed into his. The way he saw it, Beau would never move on from the ordeal willingly when Edythe's own shame kept breathing life into his suffering. Before she could get Beau to forgive himself for Victor's return, Edythe had to somehow forgive herself.
It would be a heavy task but something she was at least familiar with. There had been too many times she had made mistakes, too many people who had suffered because of her; she had been forced to come to terms with that time and time again. It didn't get easier but at least she knew the process. But could she realistically expect herself to come to accept that she had forced the man she loved, the most gentle man she had ever known, to chose between his own life and another's? That she had put his human family in danger, both then and now, by simply loving him?
It seemed an impossibility. Once again she was forced to acknowledge that Beau's life would have been simpler, safer, and perhaps better if she had never met him. She couldn't brood on this as actively as she had before; she was too grateful for him having ignored her warnings as a human, too glad to have Beau despite how dangerous it had been for him. She had somehow come to terms with that much, her selfishness. But that had been when it had resulted in the loss of his life, something he had been oddly okay with. He wasn't as okay with it anymore, not now that he was understanding exactly what a horrid thing she had done to him.
But, as she searched herself internally, she found it did not sway her own acceptance of it. Even though it was cruel, she wouldn't change things now, couldn't make herself regret having Beau like herself even though she wished away his pain. Edythe needed him too much, loved him too hard to go back to a world where he would someday out grow him and die. She could only wish for his ignorance back, but no, not his life. Not when it came at the expense of their forever.
She only hoped that Beau still felt that way too.
So Edythe knew she was responsible for his unhappiness and knew further that she as too satisfied to have him to be completely apologetic. As it was, there was little she could do to change the situation now anyway. This meant all she could do was help him heal as best she could and not let him be as consumed with his turmoil as she had been before. It was her task to bring him out of his pain, to help him find the light in this life that he had unknowingly brought out for Edythe herself. It was her turn to save him now.
That grounded her. It gave her purpose and shook the heaviness from her heart.
Edythe stood suddenly, almost too fast for Beau to see. He looked at her curiously; they hadn't moved from the couch for several long hours. She took his hand in both of hers, lightly pulling him from where he sat. He got to his feet almost unwillingly, but still let her drag him upstairs. Instead of going to their room, however, she led him to Archie's.
The door opened before they could knock. Archie beamed at his sister, glad to see she at least was putting forth effort to get back to normal. "How can I help you two?"
"Like you don't know," she replied not unkindly. She shoved Beau into the room before her. "I decided you were on to something before. I think opening up wedding presents is actually exactly what we need right now."
Beau frowned as Edythe sat him on the edge of Archie's bed. "Really? It just doesn't seem appropriate to-"
She put her hands on his shoulders, leaning in close until their foreheads were touching. "Beau. We need this. Trust me, we do. It's horribly timing with everything that has happened, you're right, but that's exactly why we need this distraction."
"I don't know if I'm up for it," he all but whined.
Edythe raised her chin defiantly. "Well too bad because I feel like opening wedding presents right now." She really didn't but it was important that she lead by example. She was determined to take her mind off of unpleasant things and reminding herself of the day she became Beau's wife seemed the perfect way to do that.
Beau rolled his eyes but didn't bother trying to fight her. He pulled her onto his lap and tried to adopt a non-martyred expression.
Archie looked over the moon in spite of Beau's reluctance. He dove into the walk-in closet, returning half a second later with an arm full of warmly wrapped gifts. He deposited them on the bed before curling into the floor expectantly, waving them on to begin.
Beau didn't move so Edythe reached over him, grabbing a small flat gift box with a handsome beige bow. She unwrapped it easily, exposing a pair of plane tickets when she lifted the lid. Her eyes were wide as she read the information printed there.
"Where to?" Beau asked still despondently.
She lifted her eyes to his face, her eyes shimmering faintly. "Well the tickets are a connecting flight to Rio, but that's only the first leg of the trip I assume." She lifted the tissue paper in which the tickets sat, revealing a pair of sterling keys underneath. "Ah ha... Yes, it looks like we'd go by boat the rest of the way there."
"There where?"
"The island Carine bought Earnest," she said causally, closing the gift box and setting it to the side.
"She bought him an island?"
"It was an anniversary gift," Archie explained.
He chuckled despite himself. "Way to set the bar high."
"I'll have to find a way to top her," Edythe said airily. "There will be plenty of time for that of course - it was their 50th anniversary." She smiled at her husband. "Something to look forward to."
A small smile tugged at his lips. "Of course."
She set the box aside, reaching for the next. This was a larger box, cream colored with a white lace ribbon. Edythe stared at the ribbon, a slow smile stealing over her face. She looked up at her brother who nodded smugly when she tilted her head fractionally. Whatever Archie was thinking clearly elated her.
"I love it already," she finally said aloud. To Beau she explained: "Archie had my veil re-purposed. Into this ribbon for one. And also to make a lace front for our wedding album."
Archie reached up, opening the box with a laugh. "Way to ruin the surprise before you even opened the present."
There was indeed a beautifully put together wedding album inside the box, the front wrapped in the delicate lace of Edythe's veil. She lifted it out carefully, cracking the spine open down the middle. The first picture of the album was a candid, taken at some point during the ceremony of Beau and Edythe holding hands in front of the gazebo. The light struck them just right, making them both glow incandescently. It was a breathtaking photo.
Edythe stroked the picture lightly, flipping through the book with the same reverence. Each picture looked like it was shot by a professional, even the candids. Beau couldn't help but be impressed.
"It's beautiful," Edythe said to her brother. "Thank you, Archie."
"I mostly documented it to bask in what an amazing event I could put on within a limited time frame." He shrugged but looked pleased. "But I'm glad you like it all the same." Edythe reached for another box, a tiny one this time, but Archie stopped her before she could open it. "That one is for Beau."
She handed the pale blue gift over to him instead. Inside, he found another set of keys. On the key ring was an ornament hunk of metal shaped like a cursive 'B'.
Though it lacked the full power it should have had Beau was able to muster a grin, recognizing the badge on the key. "Royal finished my car already?"
"Really dragged his feet actually when you consider how quickly we built a house," Archie snorted. "But yes, your Civic is all finished."
"Awesome."
"What to go look at it now?" Edythe was eager to capitalize on Beau's slight lift in spirits.
"Yeah sure."
"But the rest of the gifts!" Archie was pouting.
"Can wait," Edythe said breezily, getting to her feet. "I already suspect what the remainder will consist of considering they are from our cousins and my darling sisters." Her tone indicated she wouldn't find their gifts quite as thoughtful as the others. "Let's go see your car, Beau."
The pair made their way to the detached garage then, finding Beau's vehicle still set up in the center of Royal's workspace but with a sheet over it. Edythe gestured for him to go at it so he pulled back the covering to reveal the newly waxed sky blue Honda Civic. It wasn't flashy by any stretch of the imagination but it was undeniably a standout in the modest town of Forks.
"Wow." Beau did a slow walk around the vehicle, hesitantly putting his hand on the hood.
"Whatever else he is, I can't deny Royal has a way with cars," Edythe said offhandedly. "Even if it's just a Honda."
"No knocking my car," Beau whispered reverently.
She smirked, glad to see real emotion from him. "I guess it is an undeniable upgrade from that monstrosity of a truck."
"Ouch, two for two. We can't all drive Volvos."
"The Volvo is only my car for blending in-"
"Which it does so well," he mumbled.
Edythe laughed, the sound echoing against the concrete. She sashayed to the far end of the garage, past Carine's Mercedes, to another vehicle covered with a tarp. Raising an eyebrow impressively until it was nearly lost in her bronze hair, she pulled away the sheet.
Underneath was a car just as conspicuous and ostentatious as Royal's convertible, if not more so. Beau didn't know cars but he had a feeling this might be the type of car Batman would drive. It was sleek and low to the ground, the coat somehow reflective like polished steel despite being pitch as night.
Edythe leaned against the car nonchalantly. "This is for when I'm not playing soccer mom for my siblings." She flashed her dimples. "I suppose this is too noticeable a car for someone posing to be a teenager to be driving to high school, hmm?"
"Uh ya think?" Beau shook his head, sure the vehicle he was looking at was worth more than Charlie's house. "Maybe cover that bad boy back up - you're making my Civic feel bad."
She tilted her head, her hair spilling down her back. "I could... Or we could go for a drive. See if maybe you've been cured of your fear of my driving. But of course, the Vanquish is just a bit faster than the Volvo..."
Beau frowned, quite sure the Cullens' taste for speed was something he hadn't acquired. "Thanks but no thanks. I think it'll spoil me for the Civic before I've even broken it in," he said explained quickly to her crestfallen expression. "Maybe another time."
She nodded, covering the vehicle back up and then returning to his side. Instinctively, he pulled her close, hugging their bodies together. Her familiar scent washed over him as he let his mind drift away, concentrating on simply not thinking about anything in particular. It had become his newest mission these past 24 hours - simply shutting down all his thoughts until he was completely empty.
It was different from when he turned off his ability to feel anything; this was something he was doing consciously, purposefully not letting himself think a single thing. Ever since he had taken to this life his mind had been going a mile a minute, thinking and over thinking as if in overdrive. He figured it was just another aspect of what he had become, this ability to be juggling several thoughts that the same time as if it was second nature. It had been confusing but interesting before to see how fast his mind worked then but now he was just tired.
He didn't want to think about anything at all, didn't want to play back his perfectly preserved memories of the blood that pooled into the earth from the man Victor had killed or the feeling of his teeth ripping through the vampire's flesh. He knew he didn't have the luxury of forgetting, of course, but he figured if he could consciously force himself to not think at all he could pretend those memories didn't exist. It was the next best thing.
"Beau?" Edythe's velvety voice reached him from far away.
"Mmm."
"Come back to me, okay?"
He looked down at her, not sure how to respond to that. "I'm here."
"No you're not," she disagreed. "But that's okay, just so long as you come back to me eventually. I'm not going to rush you but know I'm here waiting when you are ready."
"I'll never be ready to talk about it," he promised darkly. "If that's what you mean. I just want to forget it."
Edythe slowly traced the crescent scar just to the side of his jugular, the raised skin marring his otherwise flawless skin. Beau flinched at her touch, not self-conscious for the scar but wincing from being forced to remember how it came to be. It was harder to forget that he was a murderer when the evidence was carved into his flesh.
But Edythe did not see the scar in the same way. Yes, it was a painful reminder of a day she would rather forget, but it was also proof of Beau's survival. He came back to her, came back for her. He did what he had to do so that he wouldn't leave her to wander this world alone. It was a testament to his love, to his ability to persevere.
"'This too shall pass'," Edythe quoted wisely, still touching his scar. The adage was a reminder that even the saddest of moments could be overcome with time. "Given enough time, I swear it's true. It has been for me, anyway. And I have killed more often than you, love."
"Did you also put your family in danger at the same time?" He asked dryly, but with an unfamiliar harsh edge to his tone.
Edythe took it in stride. "Yes," she said honestly, dropping her hand to his chest. "While I stalked the night plucking those with evil intentions off the street to feed myself, I was unknowingly drawing notoriety to myself. It was not only the careless the Volturi monitor, but also the overly careful, those who only hunt certain prey like women or murders - it creates urban legends and rumors. The humans could have easily become suspicious of the drop in crime in the areas I hunted. If I had gone on and built a legend of myself it would have been Carine who was held accountable, Beau." Edythe shook her head. "I won't pretend to know exactly what you're going through but take it from me - what you're doing now is not healthy. I'd hate to see you torture yourself as I have."
His mouth was a firm line. "I suppose that's my choice to make though, isn't it?"
"It is," she agreed reluctantly. "But-"
"Just let me do this, Edythe. It's working well enough."
"That's not enough, though," Edythe insisted. "And this isn't something you have to do alone."
"It was me Victor targeted, Edythe. It was my father who would have died. This is on me."
"But it was because I couldn't stay away from you, Beau! I did this, I caused this." Edythe had to turn away, sure she would see a flash of contempt in her husband's eyes now. Her guilt could not be more obvious, even as she tried to push it down. She wasn't trying to make it about her but surely Beau knew who was really at fault for all this and was playing dumb. Even if he hadn't blamed her for his death he had to blame her now for everything that had followed.
Her words gave Beau pause, but only for a second. He turned her back towards him, his hands on her shoulders, hunching lower until they were eye to eye. "Edythe, listen to me. This was not your fault, any of this. Really, I'm not blaming you here."
"But you blame yourself," she stated plainly. "That doesn't make sense, Beau. This all started with me involving myself in your life, for not being strong enough to leave when I should have. How can you forgive me but not yourself, Beau?"
"It's not the same..."
She planted her hands on her hips defiantly "How is it not? I put your life in danger by just being near you. I could have easily killed you myself at any point simply by accident, or any of my siblings could have based on your proximity. Joss targeted you because of me, and then Victor as revenge for the mate I helped kill. Your life was constantly in danger every second you were with me."
"It's different because I knew all that!" Beau finally shouted. "I knew what I was getting in for and did it willingly. Charlie has no idea that the son he buried is still alive and is still putting him in danger, Edythe. He didn't sign up for this but is suffering the consequences all the same."
She frowned. "That is true... But you couldn't have known the danger he was going to be put in."
"You knew your presence was dangerous for me," he argued.
"Because I wanted to drink your blood," she said exasperatedly. "It's not like you were the danger to Charlie. You weren't trying to kill him."
Beau crossed his arms over his chest. "But it comes down to the same thing. If I wasn't here, Victor wouldn't have come back."
"You don't know that."
"If Joss had won her game Victor wouldn't have needed revenge. Charlie would have been better off - maybe everyone would have been actually - if I actually had just died-"
"Don't you say that!" Edythe's features were deathly pale. "Don't you ever say that again."
He shrugged. "I'm not saying I wish I had died. The fact is, though, that me living ended up messing a lot of things up for other people, including my dad and the human who shared his name."
She glared at Beau. "So you regret it?"
"I don't." But Beau didn't look at her as he said it. His shoulders slumped under her burning gaze. "I know I don't but as for the rest... I don't know what I feel, Edythe. I'm just trying not to think about it. I don't think I'm ready to face how I feel about all of this."
"Because you don't think you'll like the conclusion you'll come to," she said decidedly.
"I just don't know," he insisted. "Maybe I'm afraid I'll be too okay with it - that I'll compartmentalization and decide I'm okay with putting Charlie in danger in the grand scheme of things because everything else is working out so well for me. Maybe I'm afraid to see how much of my humanity I've actually lost, how much of a monster I've actually become." He groaned, wishing away the words as soon as he said them aloud. "I just can't do this now, Edythe. Please."
She couldn't say anything, shocked silent by his admission.
Beau leaned down, kissing the top of her head quickly. "Sorry, just forget all that okay? Didn't mean to unload that on you."
"You should be able to tell me what you're thinking Beau," she said with a sigh. Edythe reached up, pulling him into a gentle hug. "I'm your wife. I want to know everything you're thinking."
"I don't even want to know what I'm thinking right now."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"There's nothing for you to be sorry about." He put his finger over her mouth before she could disagree. "Seriously. I just need to figure this all out and see what it means. If it changes anything. If it changes everything."
She nodded slowly as he pulled his hand away. "I understand. I really do. I know this is something you want to see for yourself. But I am your wife, Beau. You don't need to go this alone."
He knew she was right but at the same time he wanted to spare him from the onslaught of emotion he was dealing with. He didn't want her to have to contend with the full depth of his anguish, not when it was already eating away at Beau himself. This wasn't a torment he would wish on his worst enemies, let alone someone he loved.
It was like Beau was raw from the inside out, his skin flayed leaving his every nerve-ending exposed. Painful didn't even begin to describe what he felt under his bubbling guilt.
On some level, Beau felt he had lost the right to worry over Charlie now, hazard that his existence was proving to his father's life. He almost yearned for a reprieve from his old human life so that he could forget all the ways he was failing them.
A human he didn't even know but was connected to Beau by his name alone had paid for that connection with his life, and he could have well been only the first to fall if Victor hadn't been stopped. Would Victor have retraced the pattern he had worked out two months before from Charlie's house to the high school before leading Edythe on his fruitless chase? How many could have died if that had been the case? Those wouldn't have been complete strangers - those could have been classmates, friends of friends, neighbors from before he was born. And his father - Charlie's death would have been the cherry on top for Victor.
Beau wished he could brush it off; in the end, he had stopped Victor, though by unsavory means. There had only been one victim - and it wasn't like Victor wouldn't have fed off someone during that time anyway. There were probably hundreds of humans in various places that he had killed. In the long run, what was one more?
But it still haunted him. Maybe it was because there was a connection to this one man's death and Beau which there wouldn't have been with Victor's other kills. This one death was different among the others, had a person to blame, not just senseless hunger. And Beau couldn't pretend it wouldn't stay with him. It was his fault. He might as well have killed the man himself.
Guess he wouldn't have quite the clean slate Edythe had envisioned for him.
It was hard not to feel disappointed about that, not to feel disappointed in himself. It was like he had somehow let everyone down simply by existing. It wasn't something he could have prevented, ignorant as he had been about Victor's plot, but that didn't mean he wasn't responsible for the aftermath.
Beau dropped his face in his hands, sighing heavily. It was like he was weighed down with everything even as he actively tried not to think of it.
"I'm fine," he said, feeling Edythe's fluttering hands on his back. "I'm fine, just give me a second."
"What can I do?" Edythe asked, her words betraying her concern.
He dug his fingers into his hair, pulling lightly. He found himself leaning against his car for support. "I think I just need some space," he said hoarsely as he slid into a sitting position. "Sorry."
"I understand." Edythe leaned down and kissed the top of his head hesitantly, breathing him in for a second. And then she was gone, the outside door to the garage closing after her.
Beau hated to see what he was doing to her, but hated more for her to see what he was doing to himself. He closed his eyes, throwing his head back against the car body feeling the smooth metal against his skull. He wondered idly what it would take to shut his memories behind the band of his shield as he had before with his emotions.
He disregarded the idea almost as soon as it surfaced, however, knowing it wasn't something he should attempt after how disastrously it had backfired the first time. Hiding from his feelings had been good in theory but once he had unleashed them, the onslaught was almost overwhelming. To go from feeling nothing to feeling everything had been like jumping into ice water after walking around on the surface of the sun.
He couldn't lock away his memories then, he decided tiredly. He had to find a way to deal with them head on. He didn't think he was strong enough for that yet, however. Beau would have to revisit that at a different time. For now he would just wallow for a little while longer.
He kept his eyes closed and focused just on his breathing. Deep breath in, count to five, deep breath out. It was an easy pattern to fall into until he was almost in a trance. It reminded him of the feeling before he fell asleep before.
He kept his eyes closed when the outside door reopened again some time later. He didn't need to see to recognize the solid footsteps and rich vineyard-y fragrance that accompanied Royal.
The larger man said nothing but pulled Beau to his feet in one fluid motion. Beau sighed, opening his eyes wearily; he wasn't in the mood for another rousing game of 'Cheer Beau Up' and wished he could find somewhere in the house no one would bother him.
Royal ignored the ire in Beau's expression. He reached around him, clicking open the door to the vehicle with the button next to the handle. But instead of getting in the drivers seat, he gestured for Beau it climb in.
Confused but not really in the mood to fight him on this, Beau took his seat behind the wheel. The door snapped shut behind him. Royal was in the passenger seat a moment later, reaching up to hit the garage door opener.
"Get us on the main road," the blonde said finally.
"I'm not really-"
"Just get this thing in motion," Royal said cutting him off. "And if you break anything by being careless and I'll break your neck."
Beau shook his head but did as he was told. He withdrew the set of keys from his back pocket and turned the engine over. It was a very subtle sound, no doubt the result of Royal's keen workmanship. As the car pulsed to life Beau automatically reached for his seatbelt, stopping short with an eye roll as he remembered that it was no longer necessary. He dropped his hand to the gearshift instead, gently throwing it into reverse.
He barely had to look out the back window to get his clearance out of the garage. He knew the space and didn't even have to turn his head around to know how much he needed to turn the wheel. Using just the smallest amount of pressure, but still more than enough to pilot the car, he backed the car up. Once clear of the structure he spun the car back, throwing the car from reverse to drive, taking off.
The car spun smoothly, much more easily than it should have. It felt weightless and had no resistance as Beau drove off the property. He found he didn't need to focus but a small portion of his mind to pilot the car; most of his focus was just on minding his strength but even that was like second nature now. Only after finally having to use the full extent of his newborn strength to defeat Victor had Beau learned how to properly manage it, it seemed. At least he had gained something from the experience, he thought wistfully.
Royal had his seat reclined back generously, his blonde hair loosely spilling over the headrest.
"Is there anywhere I should be heading?" Beau finally asked as they neared the turn for the one-oh-one.
"Around the area, I don't care where," the blond said in a bored voice, waving his hand lazily. "Stay clear of the general population - scents will be muffled in here but I don't feel like playing 'Chase the Bloodthirsty Newborn' so I'm not taking any chances."
Beau rolled his eyes, taking the path that followed along the highway north. "So we're not actually going anywhere?"
"Nope. Just getting out of the house." Royal raised an eyebrow at Beau. "You wanted space, right? I'm generously allowing you that."
"This isn't exactly what I had in mind." Beau had nothing against his new brother but didn't feel like entertaining anyone. He wanted to be completely alone so he didn't have to pretend to be okay.
"I know." Royal closed his eyes, lifting his face towards the ceiling as if he was trying to sleep. "You'd rather be off alone brooding. But you're a new vampire, even if you don't act like it, and that's just not going to happen. But this should be the next best thing. I'm not going to be Edythe," he said in a voice that was oddly understanding even if there was a sharpness to his words. "I'm not going to try to get you to open up and constantly ask if you're okay. I'm not going to bombard you with apologies like Archie or try to manipulate your emotions like Jessamine. Earnest would try to give you space but fail and Carine would give you that assessing doctor-look that's super annoying. And El wouldn't be able to stand the tension and try to make lighten the mood. That shit would drive you crazy right now, I bet."
"And you won't do any of that?" he asked, a little skeptical. They were around another bend of the Sol Duc river, heading northwest on the open back road that led towards the Olympic National Forest. The speed limit increased and Beau had no problem easing to it - and finally over it. He knew instinctively that there was an extremely remote chance that he could cause a car accident now, sharp as his reflexes were. Speeding seemed like a forgone conclusion with that in mind.
Royal huffed. "Not because I don't care. But it's not going to do you any good." He rolled his head to the side, fixing Beau was a straight stare. "Being with me is the closest you're going to get to being alone so soak it up while it lasts. It's not ideal but maybe it'll give you time you need to get your shit together.
"Cause this moping isn't cute," Royal added sternly. "And you're going to end up pushing Edythe away if you two don't get some perspective ASAP."
Beau saw the wisdom of his words but was too irritated to reply. It wasn't like he was unaware he was being a horrible husband. He wasn't being an ass on purpose. Keeping what he felt from Edythe just seemed like a better alternative than being miserable together. Maybe he was the only one who saw it that way, though.
They drove in silence for a while. It wasn't exactly a comfortable silence, but the tension leaked away as the miles blurred past them. Royal had apparently said all he intended to and was content to relax into the passenger seat quietly. Beau was grateful for that at least, knowing the blonde had been right that this was the closest to solitude he would be granted for the near future.
It hadn't bothered him before nearly as much as it did now, the fact that he was constantly under surveillance. He understood the necessity of it and had decided to endure it dutifully in the beginning until a time would finally come that he graduated from his babysitters. But he hadn't really wanted to be alone before, save for being alone with Edythe. He loved his family dearly but he was suffocating now under all their concern and pity. Not even the comfort of their company could offset that.
He wanted to be better if for no other reason than to have everyone back off. Beau thought he could try to go along with the motions effectively enough to convince them to an extent. He could function. Talk when needed, smile when expected, spend time with his family and pretend to be his old self. He could try to do that much, but he knew it wasn't something he could fake for long, not with how perceptive his wife and various family members could be. They wouldn't let up until he was actually healing - which seemed an impossibility at this point.
He didn't know how to be Beau anymore. He wasn't even sure who Beau really was.
Well in theory, he did. Beau could remember how it felt to be happy, carefree, how easy it had been to smile. That Beau had been content with his lot in life, almost naively. He didn't feel like that person anymore.
It wasn't that he had lost the ability to be that person, though; he knew he could still be happy as he was before, knew his ability to smile hasn't been stolen from him. He just couldn't see how to get back to that point - or if he even deserved to. Did murderers get to laugh and smile like they didn't steal a life? Did people who nearly cause the death of their father get to be surrounded by a loving family?
Beau knew he wasn't being logical, wasn't being fair, but that didn't change how he felt in his heart. He knew he wasn't unique in his crimes, not after hearing all the stories his family told him of their own failings. He didn't hold their body counts against them but it felt different when he pointed the finger at himself.
Maybe it was ego; he had been holding himself to a higher standard because he had all the tools to do better than the others had. Everything had been stacked in his favor: his shield aiding his control, having seven super-humans to keep him in line, being isolated from human contact so expertly. By all accounts, Beau should have had the best shot at keeping his slate pristine.
But now here he was, responsible for two deaths, one directly the other indirectly. He wasn't better than anyone. He had failed.
He looked over at Royal briefly, knowing his torment showed on his face, worrying that Edythe would pluck the memory of it from his mind later. His fears were groundless however; his brother still had his eyes closed, appearing for all intents and purposes to be asleep. Beau turned his eyes back to the road.
They were nearing the entrance to the national park, the ivory peaks of the mountains impressively looming over the rich greenery. Having come so close to the ample hunting range, feeding seemed an obvious side trip to make, but Beau rejected it in favor of more time behind the wheel. He altered their direction north again at the turn off for the park, opting to join the main highway for the first time.
It was late enough in the day that traffic was light heading towards the densely populated cities. Beau wasn't sure but he thought it might be a weekday based on the traffic headed the opposite way, no doubt commuters heading back home from work. He found Royal had been right about not being able to smell the humans in the cars they passed by, no doubt because of the tightly rolled windows that shielded them from the punishing rain. Regardless, he leaned over to switch the air circulation to recirculate, not wanting to take any chances.
Though he couldn't smell the people they passed on the road, he could see them well enough through the heavily tinted windows of his Civic. He couldn't help but be somewhat fascinated, the humans unaware of their proximity to the ultimate predators. They got their fair share of stares as Beau drove but he chalked it up to their speed - pushing towards 90 now - and perhaps the contrast of the dark tint against the metallic blue paint job.
Beau found himself people watching. This was the closest he had come to interacting with non-vampires in almost two months and he found himself morbidly eager for the contact. He doubted that even if his human memories were still fully in tact he would have recognized anyone but he found himself searching out the less-than-perfect faces with enthusiasm. Most of the faces were slackened as they faced the tedium that was driving, dull eyes focused forward as they kept pace with traffic. Occasionally a face would be turned towards the Civic and he could observe it more fully, noting mostly shock for Beau's speed before the vehicle in question fell back in their wake.
He catalogued every face he saw into his perfect memory, every man, woman, and child. These were all faces of potential victims - of Victor's if he hadn't been stopped and now of Beau's should his control be less than perfect. Each face was a person with their own dreams and aspirations, their own friends and family. They were all lives that could potentially be snuffed out should they ever find themselves on the wrong end of an encounter with a hungry vampire.
And they had no idea. Their lives were unknowingly in peril every time they walked out the door, every time they interacted with strangers. They had no idea who - what - was lurking on the peripheries.
Beau nearly shuddered at the implication.
He understood that it was his responsibility to always be on alert for the sake of those ignorant of the monsters that were among them but was he just fighting the inevitable? Even if he was overly cautious, feed regularly, and limited his interactions with humans to a bare minimum there was no guarantee that the human he crossed paths with would make it home. He was a constant source of danger to them. Maybe he didn't deserve the benefit of the doubt of their company and he was better off shutting himself away rather than taking the risk. It would be a lonely existence, but safer for others.
The Cullens were about as cautious as possible, he knew, and never intended to hurt the humans they associated with, but that didn't mean accidents wouldn't happen. Did that make them irresponsible by walking among mortals on a regular basis?
Beau shook his head tiredly, knowing he couldn't fully buy that. They were not being malicious or thoughtless in their actions. They wouldn't put themselves in the company of humans without good reason; it would be too easy to be recluses and never speak to humans at all if their only concern was fear of taking lives. Instead, they chose the more difficult path. The benefits of being among them outweighed the risk, though it might be egotistical or blase to feel that way. Being able to blend in with the rest of the world made the Cullens better people, able to see people as people rather than as food as their instincts might argue. It brought them closer to who they wanted to be - rational beings who understood the value of life. It was why they existed as they did, why they feed only from animals. It made them good.
Beau wanted to be good too - so badly. He wanted to gain back some of the feeling of what it meant to be human still. He didn't want to think of himself as a monster even if all the evidence spoke to that conclusion.
Out of nowhere, Edythe's words floated into his mind, spoken quietly as she drove him home in another life. I don't want to be a monster.
The admission was one shared by her siblings and adoptive parents several times over during these several weeks Beau had spent with them. They wanted to be more than what they were, wanted to fight their nature because they didn't want to be monsters. It was the same feeling Beau had now, something he hadn't been able to full grasp before until he was confronted with the reality of what it mean to be an immortal. It was a crushing feeling but still twinged with longing to overcome the truth of his nature.
Was this the feeling the Cullens fought against each day on their quests? Did Beau share their will to preserve too?
He took the next exit unthinkingly, making a U-turn so he might follow the lower roads back towards Forks. Somehow he had unconsciously decided to stop running away, his body taking that as a cue that it was time to go home.
"'Bout time," Royal muttered under his breath, his eyes still closed though he seemed well aware of their change of destination.
Beau managed a weak smile, his eyes on the horizon. He had to agree with Royal - no more running. It was time to prove he was a Cullen too.
