They ended up seated at the round table not a few hours later.

It was where they always gravitated when an important decision was to be made. Perhaps it gave these decisions a little too much gravitas, but they could all see each other's faces, they sat equal distances apart, and everyone knew that they would have their say and be heard.

And whatever decision they came to, while it might not be one they all agreed with, at least it would be one they had all discussed.

It had been a while since they had done this.

"I think the safest thing we can do is leave town," Carlisle concluded, "I'll put in my two-week notice, the rest of you can go on ahead and stay at the Denali, and I'll meet up with you. We can stay for a few weeks while I search for a new job."

The hospital would be devastated, as would the townspeople who had come to enjoy having a top-class surgeon and diagnostician on staff in their very town, but it couldn't be helped. He'd leave them one day regardless, sooner than they would probably expect or hope for, this would just be a little sooner than he had expected.

"Safest?" Rosalie balked, "Carlisle, you have to be joking."

"Even if the house had burned down, that wouldn't hurt us," Rosalie said, motioning to the house, "We're not in any danger and it's—probably some punk from our school committing arson on a dare. We're rich and good looking, that's enough to annoy anyone. If we were a little closer to town, we'd probably be getting egged every other weekend."

As they had in Ohio, if Carlisle recalled. Egged and toilet papered, every other weekend, to the point where they'd left that town early too as Esme had been utterly distraught walking outside each morning to see the house covered in eggs and soaked paper.

"It's not about whether they can hurt us," Carlisle reminded her, "It's whether anyone suspects what we are."

"No one suspects," Rosalie gave Edward a look for confirmation.

Edward bit his lip, looking reluctant, then with a sigh he agreed, "No one suspects, the Quileute of course know, and I wouldn't hear them planning anything on the reservation but—they'd know starting a fire is useless."

And Carlisle could talk to Billy Black if it came to that. He didn't necessarily want to, the man hadn't exactly sounded thrilled when Carlisle had first called to confirm whether his family could return to Forks, but it was something he could do.

But as Edward noted, Billy did not strike him as a man who would approve of anything that would turn the Cullen's eyes in his people's direction. Ephraim, certainly, would have beaten the perpetrator black and blue.

And if it'd been anyone human from the tribe—Carlisle would have found them.

Unfortunately, their one piece of evidence hadn't smelled like much at all. Whoever had had it had been very careful to wipe it clean of any scent and fingerprints with Lysol. Which made Carlisle wonder why they'd been careless enough to leave it at all unless—unless it'd been an explicit warning.

Letting Carlisle know that this wasn't an accident and that someone, something, had definitely been there.

With deodorant.

"You're assuming they're human," Jasper said to Rosalie.

"Why would a vampire come and burn down our house?" Rosalie asked, brow furrowed and looking utterly exasperated.

"Territory," Jasper said with a shrug, "America's not as large as it once was, it would be nice to claim the pacific northwest for themselves."

"And what, light our house on fire?" Rosalie asked, "Just—they, of all people, would know that wouldn't work and—and we eat animals! We have golden eyes!"

"They might not know what that means," Jasper said, "I'd never heard of it before Alice. And ours is an unnaturally large and intimidating coven. They would not attack us directly."

"So, they light our house on fire instead," Rosalie said dully, "And what about Edward? He'd have heard them and that's not even getting to Alice."

Rosalie looked to Alice and Edward, both of whom looked decidedly uncomfortable. Alice and Edward shared a glance then both shook their heads, "Nothing."

"Not a thing," Alice confirmed, "Well, I see us either staying or going to the Denali but—if anyone's planning anything else then I'm not seeing it."

"You see?" Rosalie said, now looking at Carlisle, "Nothing to worry about."

Carlisle wasn't so sure he agreed with that.

He supposed—lighting their house on fire did lend itself to a certain idea of ignorance but nevertheless someone had done it. And whether it was because his family were vampires, whether the arsonist was a human or vampire or something else, there was the fact that they didn't have to stay.

Leaving was a very low risk, cautious, option they could always employ. If the arsonist followed then, well, Carlisle supposed they'd have to confront it. However, it was likely that they wouldn't, and that if the family left then that'd simply be the end of it.

Reading his reluctance on his face, Rosalie let out a sigh, "We just moved here! We've only been here for two years and—no one's made a mistake, Carlisle! This is the first town where we haven't had to leave early in ages. We don't deserve this."

"It's not about what we deserve or what's fair," Carlisle said, "Moving is something we do, something we all have to get used to, and I think it's the—easiest solution."

"And never find out who did it?" Edward balked, "Carlisle, they'll—they'll get away with this if we just leave."

"And?" Carlisle asked.

Edward motioned subtly to Esme, and quietly asked, "And you'd let them do this to Esme without any justice?"

Carlisle immediately felt terrible. Esme looked at him with wide, sorrowful eyes and tried to give him a smile, "Oh, no, don't worry about me, I'm—perhaps it was an accident? These things happen and I'm sure no one meant to…"

Carlisle sighed and rubbed at his temples, "Edward, if it is a human, even if it isn't, what sort of justice do you think we'd administer?"

"We'd give them what for," Emmett chimed in for the first time, "I'm with Edward, we can't just roll over."

Carlisle spared him a glance and pressed, "What for? What does that mean, Emmett? If it's a human, do we turn them into the authorities? If it's not—do we fight? Do we kill them?"

Emmett blinked, looked sheepish, "Well—"

"That's what fights between our kind often come to," Carlisle pointed out, "We don't have petty squabbles."

"And?" Jasper cut in, "If it is a vampire then they have explicitly threatened us. When they realize they've failed, they'll certainly consider killing us off one by one."

"Failed at what?" Carlisle asked, "If we leave then they'd have our territory—"

"I don't think we should let this go," Edward said, "I'm not saying we should—hurt anyone, but we need to know who did this and why. I won't be able to rest easy without knowing that much."

And that was when Carlisle realized—he had lost the vote.

Oh, he could and would demand one, but they would all vote against him. Or rather, they'd vote no and then look to him and—if he voted yes, that they move, they would even if he was in the minority.

There was an unspoken agreement, one Carlisle had never agreed to, that he was the coven head, the patriarch, and his voice was the one that mattered most.

But the point was that, looking into their faces, he could see not one agreed with him.

Jasper wished to hunt down the threat before they could do anything more. Even had they moved, Carlisle imagined he would have remained behind to investigate and come to his own decisions.

Rosalie didn't wish to move and was convinced that whoever had done this was little more than a tolerable nuisance at best.

Emmett didn't wish to appear weak, Edward wished to avenge Esme, Alice would side with Edward, and Esme didn't wish to leave her house behind so soon or make the children suffer through another move.

He knew without even having to ask that—not one of them would agree with him.

Which meant that they stayed.

The roads, thankfully, were clear the next morning.

The ice that had plagued them, had had half the town whipping out chains for their tires, had disappeared with a sudden heat wave and Carlisle's drive into work was anything but adventurous.

It was, however, filled with loud music as Carlisle blasted David Bowie on his car's speakers.

Nothing had happened last night, nothing after the vote, and nothing that morning either. Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper had all gone to school while Alice and Edward had taken a sick day so that they might profile the town and see what they had missed.

Esme was busy at work fixing the house, in high spirits with the new home project. She assured them that she'd have it finished by the time they got back even if it did mean driving to the nearest Lowe's several towns over.

And Carlisle was driving back to work, still wishing that he was putting in his two-week notice, and certain that this couldn't possibly be the end of it.

Where, if they'd left, it certainly would be the end of it.

But this wasn't a dictatorship and lord knows that Carlisle wasn't always right. Maybe knowing why would be better, it'd be an itch that was scratched rather than something always lurking in the back of their minds. It wouldn't be such a mystery and they could all move on.

If they didn't do this there'd always be a question of whether or not they could return to Forks. Maybe they still would ultimately be run out of town but at least they'd know for certain.

And, ultimately, as his family had pointed out, there wasn't much this mysterious perpetrator could do to them. A human was no match for a vampire and even another vampire, against a coven of Carlisle's size with Alice, Edward, and Jasper in their midst—there wasn't a chance.

They might be able to burn down their house, if they even managed that, but not much more than that.

And if they were anything but suicidal they'd realize that and move on with their lives. There wasn't any risk to Carlisle's family, not beyond the secret and then—well, then, in a few weeks they'd move.

Just like Carlisle had suggested.

And that was all.

So, what did it hurt giving time for Edward and Alice to investigate? For Jasper to hunt for potential enemies and report back? Jasper wouldn't start a fight he didn't have to, and Edward and Alice had their gifts.

At worst nothing would come of it and in eight or so years they'd move on from Forks Washington to some other town.

That didn't mean Carlisle was happy about it.

The petty part of him, the part that had never truly become accustomed to having a coven at all, wondered why it was so hard to pick up and leave. Yes, it meant moving, yes it meant settling into a new location with new people, but the way his children talked they didn't even like these people.

They certainly didn't have any close relationships with any of them. Nothing even close to a passing acquaintance. Shouldn't one high school, one house, be as good as any other?

But no, no, apparently, they couldn't just leave Forks, never mind that they left towns and cities all the time.

It only counted when it was on their terms and if they left without Jasper or Emmett having eaten somebody then it just wasn't fair.

And God knew the world was supposed to be fair.

"Isn't that right, David?" Carlisle asked his speaker. David, naturally, didn't respond but instead continued to sing about sailors brawling and questions of life on Mars.

He supposed it was a response enough, it certainly felt as if David Bowie agreed with him. Which had to count for something.

Just as Carlisle finished that thought, something came flying through his windshield. Carlisle desperately turned the wheel, swerving to the side of the road with his tires screeching, and flew the car into a ditch. He felt something crumpling around him, tasted sparks in the air, and heard a whoosh as the airbags deployed.

For a moment, he simply sat there in dull confusion, still in a reality where his car was in perfect condition.

Then he began to extract himself from the car's interior. He scrambled and tore at whatever was trapping him in place, bending metal easily out of the way, smashed the passenger window and crawled out. Sitting on the ground amidst broken glass, he looked at his beautiful, destroyed, car.

It was totaled.

He didn't have to be Rosalie to figure that one out.

The front was completely smashed, crumpled inward, with the headlights shattered and glass everywhere. More remarkable yet, jutting through the windshield was a large steel pipe. The kind used in large scale construction that should have been taking place nowhere near Forks.

And then Carlisle realized that, sticking out of his car, was a steel pipe that Carlisle had twisted with his own hands.

He dashed towards the car, peered inside the window, "Oh no."

Oh, he'd ripped it in half, and there were clear impressions of human hands on the surface. Someone would look at that and know that someone human, something that at least looked very human, had wrenched it apart.

"Dammit!" Carlisle shouted, running a hand through his hair.

He looked down the street.

No one was coming in either direction.

That wasn't unusual, they purposefully had built their house off the beaten track, a reasonable distance from the town of Forks so as to not be too far but not attract visitors either. Generally, on any given day, the Cullens themselves were the only ones driving down this road.

If Carlisle didn't call this accident in, it'd probably be several hours until anyone noticed.

Carlisle whipped out his phone without a second thought and dialed his supervisor.

"Carlisle?"

"Sorry, Jeffery, I'm afraid I'm going to be in late today," Carlisle said apologetically, "Alice and Edward seem to have caught a rather nasty bout of the flu and Esme left early. I'll be in by noon."

Jeffery had made apologetic pleasantries, wished Alice and Edward well, and told Carlisle to take his time.

Leaving Carlisle with his completely wrecked car.

He wasted no time. Lifting the car's ruined front off the ground, he hauled it and the steel pipe several miles back to their garage. He then returned to the scene of the accident with a portable vacuum cleaner and began the long, arduous, process of sweeping up any hint of glass. By the time anyone got there—

Well, there was nothing Carlisle could do about the tire marks on the road or in the ditch, save throwing what snow remained onto the side of the road and hoping for cold weather for at least a few days, but at the very least the car was gone.

He stood back, looking at his impressive handiwork.

And then he let himself think.

That pipe—it had come out of nowhere.

Literally nowhere.

And it had flown through his windshield, aimed perfectly for the driver, he hadn't had a chance to even avoid it.

And it had moved fast, too, even with his vampire eyes and senses, he'd barely noticed it before it hit him.

The house was one thing but this—this certainly was no accident.

Yet, once again, the road was completely empty and there wasn't a scent of anyone else at all.

He squinted down the road. Just how far away had they been standing? And—whoever they were, they hadn't realized that this wouldn't kill him. That it would, at best, be a minor annoyance in his morning.

So, it couldn't be a vampire.

"If you want to talk," Carlisle shouted to the empty street, "Then I'm right here!"

"Name a time and a place," Carlisle continued, feeling a little foolish, "I promise, I am not your enemy and—it'll be much more productive than trying to spear me with crowbars!"

There was no response.

Well.

Carlisle debated going into work on foot but—no, someone would notice, he had to take a car. Unfortunately, all that was left in the garage was the BMW and the Aston Martin, the Mercedes already got entirely too much attention for Carlisle's liking.

Well, the BMW it was, he guessed.

Arriving at his office he felt like it'd been far longer than just a few hours. Thankfully, he hadn't missed much. Tyler hadn't had to stay more than a few hours to get his stitches done and Bella's labs weren't back yet and wouldn't be for another day or two.

Since then, it seemed that there'd been no major incidents that required Carlisle's attention.

Which meant he got to sit in his office and stare at walls.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

"Dr. Cullen," one of the lab technicians knocked apologetically on his door, "Do you have a second?"

"Ah, yes, Jenny," Carlisle said, placing the woman in his memory, "Come in, have a seat, what seems to be the problem?"

Her apologetic smile became slightly more apologetic.

"You know those labs we sent out yesterday on Bella Swan?" Jenny asked.

Carlisle blinked, felt his brow furrow, "Yes?" then after a beat he added, "Don't worry, I don't expect them back yet, it should be a few more days—"

"We lost our copies," Jenny interjected.

"What?" Carlisle asked.

"All our copies seem to be—missing," Jenny finished.

"Missing," Carlisle repeated dumbly, "All of them?"

"Yep," Jenny said with a jerky nod, attempting to be casual while knowing that—that this was a very serious thing that should not have happened.

"Jenny—even the duplicates?" Carlisle asked.

"Yep, them too," she said, "And I looked for them everywhere this morning but—poof, gone."

Carlisle just stared at her then, slowly, asked, "Only Bella Swan's?"

"Yep," Jenny said, "Yep, I agree it's—but it's only Bella Swan's."

"No one else's?" Carlisle asked and Jenny nodded her confirmation.

Jesus.

He did not have the energy for this this morning. Not only was this simply bad practice and disorderly but it was a violation of HIPPAA. Those records were supposed to be kept very well guarded and they certainly weren't supposed to go around losing track of them. This was going to be a whole incident that—thankfully was not Carlisle's fault.

He felt terrible for the lab and Jenny but this was on them.

Carlisle imagined he was only being told so he could contact the various labs and request a copy.

Jenny was going to be the one drowning in paperwork and writing up incident reports.

"Thank you for telling me, Jenny," he said with a sigh, "I'll request copies right away."

Then, blinking, he asked, "You don't suppose they were stolen, do you?"

Jenny gave him a look and slowly shook her head, "There—no signs of unauthorized access, or any access at all, and nothing's on camera either."

Right, she probably would have said that to begin with, if that was the case. He nodded, "Right, thank you, I'll call."

He rubbed at his eyes and sighed as Jenny exited the room with a grateful smile. It was already noon and yet he had a feeling this was going to be a long, awful, morning.

He dialed the first number with a sigh, waited through the tone, navigated his way directly to the radiologist and—

"Ah yes, they—" there was a long pause, "Appear to be missing."

"Missing?" Carlisle asked dully, feeling as if he was in an increasingly surreal universe, "I faxed them yesterday."

"I know, and we did get them, I swear I saw it, but they're—missing."

"Missing," Carlisle repeated, then, "They can't be missing. How are they missing?"

"We—must have misplaced them somewhere," but it was clear from their tone that it was as much a mystery to them as it was to Carlisle.

Then, after a pause, "Could you resend us your copy, Dr. Cullen?"

Funny coincidence, it turned out that every location Carlisle had sent Bella's medical information off to for analysis, suddenly found their files were missing. Every single one. No discussion of break ins, no discussion of any unauthorized insider access, no common link between any of them except that they were Bella Swan's files, and they were suddenly gone.

Which meant all of them had a mother of a HIPPAA violation involving a single teenage girl.

Who had–something wrong with her. Something insidious and terrible that Carlisle could scarcely begin to imagine and now would never know because her labs vanished into thin air.

Unless, of course, they ran those labs again.

He picked up the phone and dialed the non-emergency number for the sheriff station and requested to be put through to Charlie Swan.

"Dr. Cullen?" Charlie asked, sounding wary on the other end.

"Yes, hello, Chief," Carlisle said, doing his best to sound charming (he never did well on the telephone, humans always sounded uncomfortable talking to him and had trouble navigating his vampiric tone, always much better to talk face to face), "I'm afraid I have—I am so sorry I have to ask you this, but could you bring Bella back in."

"Is she alright?" Charlie asked swiftly.

"I—am not sure, to be honest," Carlisle said, wondering how best to put this, "Oh, she doesn't have a concussion or any broken bones, nothing like that. It's probably just me being paranoid but I did an MRI and a few other tests and—it's the darndest thing. All of us have lost the files."

"What?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, yes, I know it's—absurd, but true. We all lost her files, every single one of us. I'm sure it's nothing but I'd feel much better if you could get her back in here and we could run all those labs again. You won't be charged, of course."

And if he was charged then Carlisle was sure the insurance would force the hospital to cover it. Because this sort of thing was all of their damned faults and should not go on Charlie Swan's insurance.

And if that didn't work—dammit, Carlisle would figure something out to pay for it anonymously.

"Are you saying you—"

"Yes, that is exactly what I'm saying," Carlisle said, "I am—also very upset. And so sorry, and I completely understand if you don't want to but—I would highly recommend that she get those tests done. Just to be safe."

There was a long pause on the other end then, "What time?"

"Any time," Carlisle said, "I'm clear all day and we have nothing scheduled. After school should be absolutely fine."

Charlie promised to send Bella his way, she'd be driving herself it seemed and she 'would show up whether she liked it or not'.

Which left Carlisle a chance to finally sit down and think about the events of the past day.

He decided to, rather than scope out the town like Edward and Alice were doing, think instead about what he knew.

What had happened recently that might draw someone's attention to his family?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Alright, then, what had changed?

Bella Swan had returned to Forks.

He blinked at that, frowned, and tried to think of anything else. But—no, that had been the news of the town for the past week. It was bigger news, even, than locals guessing who might make it to the Super Bowl this year. If anything had changed in Forks it was that a seventeen-year-old girl had entered high school halfway through the year.

Alright, so Bella Swan came back, what else happened?

She'd nearly been hit by a car yesterday. She'd been taken in and—had explicitly told him not to run medical exams. Had said it to him with the undertone of 'you will regret doing so'.

She hadn't minded so much being carted into the hospital, hadn't resisted that, but had very clearly resisted anything beyond a superficial examination being done.

And then all her files disappeared.

And Carlisle's house had been set on fire and his car destroyed.

And Edward had never been able to hear her thoughts, had noted that on their first day and been made severely uncomfortable by it, and Alice had yet to report seeing her in a vision. Of course, Alice rarely saw anyone that wasn't her family in any vision, so seeing Bella would have been unusual but—she also hadn't seen the house burning down and didn't seem to have seen someone lobbing a pipe like a javelin through Carlisle's windshield.

And she didn't smell human.

And Carlisle had now just invited her to his office.

Well.

He drew out his cell phone and eyed it. No call from either Edward or Alice. He didn't know if this confirmed that Alice couldn't see her or if neither of them thought Bella Swan's meeting with him was worth their notice.

His thumb hovered over the speed dial only to stop, he put it back in his pocket, and placed his hands on his desk.

Author's Note: Thanks to Vinelle for speed betaing the chapter. Thanks to readers and reviewers, reviews are much appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight