I don't own Twilight. The rest, no matter how hard someone might claim it, is mine.

14.

Edward's POV

Her silence always drove me to the point of madness in the beginning. But this is a different kind of silence, the kind that you find in the darkest places of a wood, the kind that revolves in outer space beyond meaning and time and everything in between. The type left behind on footprints in the sand.

And when everything slows down, when not even the echoes of a piano note can disturb the house creaking or the buzzing voices of my family inside my head, I memorize the rhythm of her breath. Her heart drums at a distinct pace in her chest and she rolls over on her back - mumbling incoherently in her sleep.

Again, I think of my mother. Again, I remember Carlisle's words to Bella on the night of her last birthday.

"I've never been sorry that I saved Edward."

"You must do everything in your power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward."

"...I felt certain she knew my secret."

Shame soaks, flooding my senses to the point that it buckles my knees a bit even though I'm sitting down. Not only have I abandoned the one person who could see through the glass box - shadowing my family and I from the rest of the world, not only have I caused a mess of epic proportions among the rest of my family and this woman. I have also managed to forsake my mother's dying wish.

How have they put up with me for so long?

How can Carlisle stand me?

Pulling myself up, I take one more stolen glance at the woman flayed across the bed and exit my room.

I find my oldest friend as always, in his study. The glow of the lamp light in the corner flickers on the window. His stance is poised - one thing I have learned about Carlisle over the years is that even if I couldn't read minds, his face is always splayed open like a hardback book. His eyebrows pull together, concentrating stubbornly as the thoughts wander back and forth. As he turns to me, they quietly die out.

"Hello, Edward."

Judging from his somberness, I expect shouting - him telling me to pack my bags and get out. It wouldn't be anything I don't deserve, of course. Instead, he shocks me even when he shouldn't be able to. Carlisle is himself.

Always.

"I suppose I shouldn't have to ask but I'm going to anyway. Do you remember when FDR was President?"

"How could I forget?" I want to return. Roosevelt had been in office during one of the most prominent and struggling times of American history, the Second World War. Emmett had still been slowly coming out of his newborn phase at that point and Jasper and Alice hadn't met up with us yet. My answer is steady even though my insides are stretching like a rubber band.

"Yes, mostly because of Emmett."

Carlisle chuckles a bit before saying, "So you should be able to recall what I told him one of the times after he...slipped?"

The memory floats to the surface instantaneously. "He was ashamed, afraid to go outside for a while but you told him that he was strong and that he needed to face his fears or he could never hope to work past them. " It had been the very same with the rest of the country at that time. Roosevelt had addressed the nation once saying, "We have nothing to fear but fear itself."

"My father used to say something close to that, though when he said it he was mainly referring to our kind and werewolves." Carlisle pauses, walking past me and out to the hallway. His gaze lands on the wooden memento from his past. "I had always hoped never to become like him - cold and distant, even from those that should have mattered most."

"You have never been-"

He shakes his head and my words fall backwards at the tip of my tongue. "Edward, you have to know you have a soul."

Sharply, I turn away and reply, "Hardly."

"Fear drove us away, Edward - fear drove you away. You see, my father was so distant and I could never figure out why. It was always like he couldn't find it in him to attach himself to anything, and I think that's why he hated vampires so much. But I figured something out tonight - that or it just resurfaced."

I look back at him, studying for those thoughts he hides.

"He never took his own advice. He never let himself confront his deepest demons. My father was afraid that I would become a vampire so he distanced himself and never came to know his own son. The irony is that it's exactly what happened and I never saw him again."

And my own mother had done the exact opposite - begging for my second chance, not knowing but also not caring about what creature I would become. In the process of that one request I have gained a lifetime and more...a wonderful family...Bella.

Though, then I remember her acidic rage from earlier and I feel...sick.

Carlisle senses the mood change. "It's never too late for redemption, no matter what the people like my father might tell you. We all messed up together, Edward - you're not alone."

"I never have been," I say and then hesitate.

"What is it?"

My breath rushes out. "Thanks."

"I'll always be here to talk, you know that."

"I know, I mean...thanks for granting my mom's wish."

Carlisle looks down; the hint of a smile on his mouth. When he stares back up at me, there's a glassy twinkle in his eye. "It was never a mistake to change you, Edward. Even in the last year, I haven't regretted that day." He pats my shoulder and I nod, walking away and down the stairs.

Alice and Esme sit in the kitchen at the table, each one's hands drawn together around their own coffee mug filled with hot chocolate. I raise an eyebrow.

"It feels...warm," Alice says shyly. Esme covers Alice's elbow with a hand and the ice between us cracks as I rush forward, grabbing her and crushing her against my chest in one swoop.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Ali," I whisper. "I'm sorry for everything."

She glances up at me, shaking softly. "Edward, did you just say 'fucking'?" Esme comes, standing beside us.

"I-yes, I suppose I did," I laugh.

"Let's not make this a habit, young man." Esme's face is comically stern as I look over at her.

"Of course, Mom," I wink and put Alice down. "Hey-"

"He's over by the creek."

"What's. . .?"

"Just go," she urges, pushing me toward the door.

Jasper's POV

"Em," I interrupt his reading.

He huffs. "What?"

"I was just wondering if you thought we could ever go deep sea fishing for Halibut in Alaska?"

"Hell yeah, man. Hey, what's this word mean?"

I lean over, tugging up my fishing pole and glance at the text. "Epidamnus -it's-"

A voice sounds from behind us. "It was a city of Illyria on the North coast of Greece. The Comedy of Errors, Emmett?"

He shifts uncomfortably and shrugs. "If Jasper's going to make me read something while he fishes, it's going to be this play," he pauses and then mumbles, "-only good thing Shakespeare came up with in my opinion."

Edward studies us both for a minute.

"What, is it funny that Jazz has been helping me with this crap or something?"

"No of course not. It's...it's really great actually." Edward sits down to the right of me, "How long has he been helping you?"

Emmett looks between the frog across the water and the book in his palms. "A while. I wasn't the best reader at the time that I was turned. My family was rather large so my mom didn't have much time to sit down with me - and then the Depression started. I never went to school when I was human so...Jasper's been able to help me with the big stuff. Rose taught me the basics pretty quick and it's actually been handy to be a vampire in that sense."

"How didn't I know any of this?"

"I guess you were always working on music or off doing your own thing. I was embarrassed, I tried not to think about it when you were around. We worked on it a lot on some hunting trips too...Rose, she would have been a good mother. She helped me more than I can ever really let on."

We all stare at our reflections in the stream for a few minutes and then Edward speaks up again. "I didn't know you liked to fish, Jazz."

"Yeah, it helps me think. My Pa taught me." I sigh, "Too bad I never catch anything - you would think I could at least catch a catfish but I guess being a soulless monster scares everything away."

"Jazz, I'm sorry I-"

"Whatever, the water's too shallow anyway."

"No, it isn't that." He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look - if Alice was human how would you have handled it?"

I think about that long and hard and the frog across the water croaks as if on cue.

"I would have sat us down and tried-"

This time, it's Emmett who groans. "Cut the shit, Jazz. If Edward would have attacked Alice - at her birthday, human or not no less, you would have punched him clear into Canada. You know in Tennessee this could be settled with a few simple thrown punches and a nose break."

"That's not such a bad idea, Em," Edward considers.

"Excuse me!" I roar, right as a fist slams into my nose and there's a popping sound.

"Well, think of it this way, Jasper, at least you won't bleed!" Emmett laughs hysterically as Edward flings himself on me, dragging us both to the ground. Pulling us over, I start throwing some punches and kicks of my own. All the rage seems to gradually melt away.

Apparently it does for Edward too as his blows get softer and softer. I roll off him and into a sitting position again, adjusting my nose back into place and he does the same.

Standing up, I grab Edward, bringing him with me. "My little sister used to make the best fried catfish," I state, gazing at the stars.

"What was her name?" Emmett asks and Edward casts his own curious look.

"...I can't remember," I tell them, picturing her curly blond hair pulled back tightly in a bun, a blue bonnet sitting atop it. "She liked wildflowers - they matched her eyes." The stars burn brighter somehow, sending a fire swirling through the sky.

"Have you guys ever struggled with it...regretted it?" Edward asks and I chuckle.

"No," Em says with certainty. "Rose saved me in every way possible."

"I used to," I reply. "Every damn day when I was with Maria. But then," I turn to Edward. "I met fate and she gave me Alice."

And for one tiny second I wonder if he's going to start bashing me again. Instead, he holds out his hand in offering and I take it, shaking firmly. One thousand things current themselves in this gesture; he sees my thoughts, and I feel his pain. For us, that's enough.