Trouble

Good ol' Carlisle. I deeply admire him from the books. Got some plans for him in the future, too! Also, Crispin likes figuring stuff out. He tends to do it in complicated ways.

Carlisle was always the first to take the night shifts. It saved the human doctors a great deal of exhaustion. Sometimes they wondered at him, but he always brushed them off with a light laugh and, "I'm a night owl by nature. It's alright. You get some rest."

It was this kind of behavior that earned Carlisle so much respect from Crispin. Coming from where he had, Crispin was glad to know that there was some kind of good in vampires somewhere. He, himself, had nearly been reduced to a mere animal, pursuing unfortunate humans, seeing nothing more in them than food. He'd almost ended up a disposable war machine for the demonic she-vampire, Victoria, and her disillusioned accomplice, Riley. His mind was all that had saved him from such a fate. Then he'd nearly become a toy for the predatory Tavora, who had tried to steal his will and turn him into her mindless mate and slave. His mind had saved him again from the second fate. Then, he'd wandered alone in the Rockies, free of Riley and his coven of savage newborns, free of Tavora with her strange followers and disgusting lust. But Crispin had very nearly endured a third terrible fate: a wild beast fit only to be exterminated for killing innocent mortals.

But then, exactly eight years ago today, Carlisle had arrived with his odd family-coven of "vegetarians." And everything had changed. It was a relief to live almost normally, like an ordinary person. The best part, of course, was that Crispin was free of the constant, animalistic urge to hunt for humans. He'd tamed that old instinct. Now he could dedicate his time to other, more worthwhile things, like books, understanding the universe, and messing with the future.

Crispin owed his new life to Carlisle. And so, when it came to nerve-racking, problematic issues of great consequence like the one that now faced him, he unerringly turned to his new father figure first.

Crispin waited until they had put some distance between themselves and the door to Sera's room before speaking. He kept his voice low and soft and spoke at vampiric speed to reduce the chances of someone hearing him. "Carlisle, I'm a little worried about what she knows." He was straight to the point.

Carlisle shocked him by laughing. The older vampire chuckled, casting an amused glance at the younger. "I wondered what you would think of that."

"Carlisle," Crispin started, baffled. "She's too perceptive."

"Hmm …" Carlisle thought about it for a moment, not bothering to hide his little smile. Crispin waited, staring, totally lost. What was he laughing for? This was important! It threatened their future here. They might have to pack up and leave. Their secret could be in jeopardy. Crispin was half inclined to feel insulted for some reason. He batted the emotion back. It could wait until Carlisle had had his say.

Carlisle waited until they were safely in his office before elaborating. He closed the door softly behind him before turning to face Crispin. "I apologize for laughing," he began, gently, "you should understand that I found myself in exactly this same situation just a few years ago. I can't believe I'm back here again!" He ran a hand over his handsome face, still grinning. Then he sighed and dropped into the leather chair behind his glossy oak desk. Crispin hovered by the door, trying to decide if he wanted to bolt or not. Just over ten years ago marked the time period when Edward, his elder brother by nearly one hundred years, had encountered his mate, Bella, while she'd still been human. Crispin had heard several versions of this story before. Edward and Alice both loved to tell it.

Carlisle apparently saw what Crispin was thinking. He gestured toward the small, creaky seat in front of his desk. "Please sit, Crispin."

Crispin gave in. He took his seat, resigning himself. The doctor leaned back in his nice leather chair, drumming his white fingers on the arm rest. "I know you've heard some of this story before. I'll spare you the redundant details. Did you know that Edward saved Bella from a runaway van?"

Crispin raised an eyebrow. He had not heard this part. He had been told of their first ugly encounter in Biology class in high school, and the story always jumped from there to Jacob Black's awkward part in unwittingly revealing the vampires to Bella. Edward liked to draw attention to Jacob's foolish mistake there, which was probably why Crispin knew about it. "I didn't know there was a car accident," he told Carlisle. The older vampire nodded.

"It was on an icy day in Forks," he said. "One of the high school students lost control of his vehicle in the parking lot. Edward had already known Bella for a short time by then, and he reacted on instinct, racing across the entire lot to catch the van before it hit her."

Crispin pressed his lips tightly together. Wow, what a breach of code! In front of eyewitnesses and all! Carlisle chuckled at his expression. "Yes, it was a bit of a scandal. Rosalie was furious, as you can imagine."

Crispin rolled his eyes. He and Rosalie had never really gotten along. But he had questions. "Carlisle, how did you cover that up? There must have been a dent. Multiple dents, I'd think."

"There were some spectacular dents," Carlisle agreed. "Edward's shoulders in the vehicle behind him and his hands in the runaway van. Emmett covered them up for him. The biggest problem, though, was that Bella noticed his swift progress across the lot. She's always been perceptive. She knew he shouldn't have been there in time to save her. She also knew that he shouldn't have been able to stop the van with his bare hands. Even under all that distress, she remembered clearly."

Ah, Crispin could see it now. There had been one very important witness to Edward's breach of code. "She … didn't tell anyone," Crispin predicted, thinking of her current status as Edward's mate. "Despite what she'd seen."

"I don't think she expected anyone to believe her," Carlisle said. "And she kept her mouth shut for Edward, even that early in their relationship."

Crispin leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. "You're right. History repeated itself today."

"Yes, it seems to have done," Carlisle agreed. "Except that, this time, there was no savior vampire to keep Sera alive. How she came out of the rubble with only a concussion is anyone's guess. Although," the doctor added as a side note, "I'll wager my bets on whatever you think happened. We both know it's probably right."

Crispin grinned a little. "I'll have to examine the scene of the accident. But not yet. The story isn't finished." He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and his head in his cool, solid hands. "Bella kept our little secret. But Sera may not do us the same favor. I admit that I don't know for certain if she's aware of the truth. I only suspect it based on small amounts of questionable evidence." He looked into Carlisle's gold eyes. "We can't say for sure that our secret is safe with her."

"No," Carlisle sighed. "We can't. But we only just met her. There's still time to see what she'll do. Until then, she's certainly not going anywhere. She won't run off before we know we're safe."

"But does she know?" Crispin wondered. He spoke to the open air, having no certain answer. "Does she know what we are?"

"You fear she does," Carlisle said. "Why?"

Crispin had to give himself a minute to collect his thoughts, deciding how to describe the evidence. He drew in a deep breath and held it for a second. Carlisle patiently waited. Crispin made some decisions, and started with the weakest point first. "Sera took particular notice of my eye color," he said. Carlisle smiled a little.

"So she did."

Crispin glared at him. "What are you grinning at?"

"I'll explain in a moment. Keep talking."

Crispin considered forcing an explanation now, but then gave up and moved on before he could lose his train of thought. "She didn't seem surprised at my cold touch. Most humans jump at such contact. They don't expect the cold. I anticipated that she'd at least try to squirm away. She did not."

"You're right, she did not." Carlisle drummed his fingers on the armrest off his seat again, still upkeeping the habitual fidgeting they used to hide themselves from the mortals. "And?"

Crispin considered his next words, inhaling deeply. This was the most important part. "And … the way she behaved when I first encountered her in the library. Something wasn't right there, Carlisle. She was too … nervous. Agitated. She was from the moment she first stepped up behind me. She stood there for quite some time, too, her heart hammering away … breathing like she was fleeing demons. I could smell the distress in her sweat. It wasn't right."

Carlisle nodded, slowly. "I see."

Crispin kept talking, trying to explain his thoughts in full before the doctor could come to a premature conclusion. "I ignored it at first. Humans get so worked up about simple things sometimes. But she was standing right there, just staring at me. And when I finally turned to ask what was wrong … she looked awful. Legitimately scared. And she stepped back from me when I turned. She feared me, I swear. But I wasn't doing anything. She had no reason to be afraid … unless she knew what I was."

"Hmm …" Carlisle looked very thoughtful, now. His brow furrowed and he frowned a little. "I didn't know your encounter with her in the library was that intense." He sat up straighter, becoming more serious. "And you believe her when she says that she's in no danger at home?"

"I don't think she's lying about that. Strange that she would deny it, though. Surely she knows what I'm looking for. Why not lie to hide her knowledge?"

"Remember that she has a concussion," Dr. Carlisle said. "She spoke very well for someone who's been heavily unconscious for an hour, but that doesn't mean she's completely lucid. She could have simply made a mistake."

Crispin sighed, rubbing his temples as he considered options. It wasn't because he had a headache—he was simply lapsing into a habit that he'd had since his human days. His flesh was smooth and firm beneath his fingertips, so unlike what it had been before the incident with Riley and the newborn army. "If Sera knows the truth, all we can hope is that she doesn't tell anyone."

"After that concussion, I don't know that anyone would believe her if she did." Carlisle looked sad at that. It wasn't a very kind way to protect their secret, which Crispin knew wouldn't sit well with his father. All the same, it was better than the alternative: removing her from the picture entirely.

"We'll have to ask Alice about it," Crispin muttered to himself. He shook his head, following a new train of thought. "How could she know? Where would she have gotten such information from? I thought vampires were hidden from mortals beneath all those myths. Ah, I'm getting ahead of myself." He massaged his temples again. "We need to talk to Alice. Anything she sees is important to my analysis."

Carlisle nodded. He got to his feet, ready to return to work. "Don't go home until I'm ready to go with you," he said. "Knowing Edward, he'll drag you all into an argument about it once he hears your thoughts. You'll need a mediator."

Crispin was desperately grateful to Carlisle. Going home with all these thoughts racing around in his head—gah! Edward would tell everyone, and of course they'd be upset. All over an unconfirmed speculation! None of them understood the difference between fact and a guess as far as Crispin was concerned.

Carlisle opened the door and stepped out of the office. Crispin was just following when he abruptly remembered. He scowled a little. "What was all the laughter about?"

Carlisle grinned, broadly, flashing his perfect, vampiric teeth. "Well, it would seem to me that she's decided to nickname you," he began, casting Crispin a devilishly mischievous look. "And she made you promise to come back."

Crispin narrowed his eyes, stopping so Carlisle had to turn and face him. He observed the older vampire for a bit, not daring to believe it. "What are you … telling me?" he wondered, cautiously. Carlisle's playful grin was even broader. His gold eyes gleamed.

"Crispin, I think she's a very clever young woman, concussion or no," he said. "And she clearly saw something in you back there. Why else would she ask you to bring her a stack of books? And intellectual stimulation? That's something you, of all people, are uniquely suited to provide. You, with all your theories and dreams and knowledge."

Crispin still didn't move, not processing. "And?"

"The most important part is that she made you promise to come back. If she didn't like you, she would have fought for the opposite thing."

Crispin glared. "Just because she likes books doesn't mean she likes me."

"Hmm …" Carlisle looked thoughtful again, still smiling. "We'll see, Crispin."

He set off down the hall, away to attend to his duties, leaving Crispin standing there. Crispin glared at the floor, not liking what his quick mind was putting together for him. Carlisle had a point. She had made him promise to come back, and she'd nicknamed him. Those were signs of some kind of positive feeling. But that she liked him? How could that be? They'd only just met!

Maybe he'd done something wrong in the hospital room. The concern he'd felt over her domestic situation had been legitimate until he'd learned that she really wasn't in any danger. Maybe that had shown through too much. Maybe she'd thought it was something more. Ridiculous! They were acquaintances.

But the longer he thought about it, the more he wondered. He'd liked listening to her, it was true. She understood him easily, without question. She'd even teased him, skirting around his questions, playing games with his quick mind. And if she did know about his real identity, about vampires … well, no average person could find that truth with any ease. It was a carefully concealed secret. And, best of all, her boredom-banishing item of choice hadn't been a cell phone or nail polish or even a hairbrush. She'd asked for books and mind puzzles.

Hmm … that was very unusual. Pleasantly unusual. Crispin was shocked at himself. Hewas actually considering liking this girl. Absurd. They were acquaintances. He knew nothing about her. Ridiculous!

Crispin marched out the hospital doors, trying not to let his temper make him snotty. In an attempt to distract himself from the discomfort, he tried to think of something else as the cool nighttime air swept his hair back. His mind flitted to the old standby—books.

Hmm. Sera hadn't asked for a particular kind of book. He was suddenly wondering, thinking of his favorites, and trying to draw ideas from what little he did know about her. Greek Fire. She knew what that was. Maybe she liked history. She could have heard about it that way. Or perhaps it was chemistry. She'd told him at the library: "it's a dead end." A chemical dead end, yes—science had not unraveled the secret formula of the ancient weapon, and they could not replicate it. Or perhaps she'd like to take a little look at venoms. Crispin thought of his precious new book in his bedroom, out of reach for now. He couldn't go home until Carlisle was off work. And the library was closed! Crispin scowled. Bah. He'd have to wait.

Well, until then … Crispin wandered toward the park. There was a comfortable bench that he liked to occupy at night, alone with his thoughts. What else could he give Sera? He had some number-puzzle books at home that he hadn't opened yet. Maybe she'd like one of those. And if she knew about fire chemistry … maybe they could talk about it. Heaven knew he needed some leads on colored fire, something better than what he'd already found. Perhaps she knew something, if she hadn't forgotten it thanks to the memory loss …

She had also been associated with red fire during her accident, Crispin remembered. He'd have to look into that …