So hey kids. I hadn't intended to post this for a while longer but I realised I had just stopped posting with no explanation and felt bad! So here's the sitch; this story hasn't been abandoned, I've been slowly working on it this entire time. At the end of July (probably August, let's face it) I should have the entire thing written and edited, including past chapters. I'll update all the past chapters and then start posting weekly or biweekly depending on how impatient I get. You will also get two side fics at least, one of Jasper's POV for the war camp chapters and another one that shall be a surprise later on.

Hope you enjoy this chapter, it was written in October lol. If it seems a little strange in places, that's because it was written for the edited version of the fic. Thanks for hanging in there, and I'll see you in July (August).

(Also, guys! 5)

'…but we are meant to be, Bella. I have always believed that this family is meant to be.' - Alice.

February 10th, 1916

Carlisle.

Although the winds were growing warmer and spring loomed in the distance, by the time 5 o'clock came around the sun was settling into the clouds and turning the sky winter shades of red and pink. Esme was wrapped up warm in a lovely blue coat that suited her complexion beautifully. Her hair reflected the pinks in the sky and turned rosy as she walked up the lane. She looked wonderful.

Carlisle was distracting himself.

He paced around his sparse bedroom, taking the occasional desperate glance out of the window and then darting away. He didn't want to be spotted staring out at the poor girl.

And poor girl she was, since she was about to get the shock of her life.

Who was he to be doing this, really? What right did he have to lay claim to this angel's life? How dare he ask her to bind herself to him, an unchanging shadow of a person, and give up everything that made her human. What kind of man was he to-

Someone backhanded him across the back of the head and sent him sprawling into the bed, which creaked dangerously and clattered to the ground. He glared up at his so called 'son'.

"Quit it." Jasper hissed. "You're never gonna be able to tell her the truth properly when you're drivin' yourself crazy like this. If you freak out, she'll freak out. Now are you gonna calm yourself down or do I have to do it for you?"

"I can do it..." He sighed, jumping up from the rubble that once was his bed and brushing the dust off his sleeves. "There are just so many unknowns and I suppose I'm…"

"Scared?" Jasper supplied.

Well of course he would know.

"Yes," Carlisle sighed. "Scared…"

They fell silent at the tapping of the door knocker. Downstairs, Bella moved at a human pace to open it. Carlisle listened to their cheerful greetings, the pleasant pitch of Esme's quiet voice, their soft footsteps towards the sitting room and the chink of cups as coffee was poured.

Jasper nudged him.

Carlisle sighed and made his way down the stairs, careful to put enough force behind his steps that Esme could hear him coming.

She still looked surprised to see him. She put down her cup, expertly hiding her racing pulse from two people who could hear it as clearly as her voice.

"Carlisle!" She smiled. "I thought you would be at the surgery, isn't it your turn to do the late shift?"

"Dr Evenson is covering it tonight." He replied. Esme looked at him like she expected him to say more, Bella similarly looked like she would throttle him if he didn't stop awkwardly standing there.

Bella loudly cleared her throat.

"If it's alright," she said, "Carlisle needs to speak with you."

"Oh!" Esme smiled, warm blush spread over her cheeks and nose. "Okay."

Damn it all to hell, she thought he was going to propose.

And he was, most likely. But he had to potentially break her heart first and Lord did he hate disappointing her. He hated disappointing her and he hated scaring her and he hated the idea that she might run away from this house screaming and he would never see her again and-

The familiar feeling of Jasper's fake calm settled on his shoulders and smothered the panic burning inside him. He sighed and didn't fight it.

"I'll just be in the kitchen," Bella stood up, "yell if you need me."

She squeezed Carlisle's hand as she passed him on her way out the door and he barely had the presence of mind to squeeze back. Esme looked at him expectantly and he realised he had yet to actually enter the room. He started to walk too quickly towards the couch across from her and then overcompensated and went too slowly. He kicked himself as Esme furrowed her brows.

He took a seat across from her, crossed his legs, changed his mind and crossed the other leg, changed his mind again and stood up, started to pace, realised he was acting like a mad man and stopped moving at all. Esme stared at him.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." He gulped, then forced himself to smile. "I'm alright, of course I'm alright."

"Are you sure? You seem a little… agitated."

He laughed. "You have a keen eye, have I ever told you that?"

"Most likely," she smirked, "I am a very perceptive person, you know."

"Oh you are are you?" His smile relaxed into something a little more genuine. "Go on. Amaze me."

"You're worried about something."

He nodded. "You could say that, yes."

She stared at him a little too closely and he started pacing again just so he had an excuse not to look back at her.

"You're worried about how I'll react to it."

"Right again."

"Well…" She tilted her head so she could meet his eyes and didn't speak until he stopped moving. "You won't find out unless you tell me, but I'm sure it's not as bad as you think."

By God's name, she was perfect. Perfect and beautiful and clever and she could have this wonderful life ahead of her and here he was trying to-

The calm blanket grew even heavier and weighed his panicking mind down.

"I'm a vampire."

Esme blinked. "You're a… I'm sorry, you're a what?"

"A vampire."

"I…" she stared at him a moment, then her mouth twisted into an amused smile. "A vampire, you're a vampire."

She didn't believe him.

He sighed. "Have you ever noticed there's something odd about me and my family? Anything ever felt strange?"

"Well, yes… you're quite strange people, Carlisle." She grinned. "I've always just assumed it was because you were from Texas."

He ignored the joke and started to pace again. "We avoid the sunlight, we never get sick or tired, we barely eat, we disappear for days at a time and when we return our eyes are a different color. Tell me you have never noticed these things, Esme."

"Of… of course I have. But I never thought of anything like-"

"Vampires?" He sighed and met her wide eyes again. "I know it's the stuff of novels and it's strange to think it might be real but-"

She erupted into nervous giggles.

"I... " He faltered. "I recognise that it must be difficult to understand."

"Understand?" She let out one loud laugh. "Of course it is, it's preposterous! Vampires don't exist! And even if they did then you…" She trailed off, her eyes nervously darted up to his. "Vampires don't exist."

"I'm afraid we do." Carlisle nervously cleared his throat and backed a safe distance away from her.

He gestured to a book lying on the sideboard on the far side of the room, she turned to look at it then back at him. At top speed he dashed to the book and then a few feet away from her. She jumped and pressed a quivering hand to her chest. He could hear her heart race. He crouched down to her eye level and presented the book to her.

She just stared at him.

Damn, he'd messed it up already.

"We are fast." He said redundantly, cringed and moved on. "And we're strong."

He reached behind him and lifted the sofa with one finger, just high enough to show that he could. He didn't want to intimidate her.

Still she looked terrified, or maybe dismayed. Carlisle had never been incredible at reading emotions. She gulped, eyes wide and glistening, her bottom lip wobbled. He couldn't help himself and shuffled over to her from his position on the floor. He knelt at her feet.

"We're undead," he whispered, "that means we can't get sick or hurt, we can't age, and we can't die - except at the hand of others of our kind."

She finally started moving to clumsily yank the lace glove off her hand and press her fingertips to Carlisle's cheekbone. He resisted the urge to purr at the feeling of her warm skin on his when he was this tense.

"You're so cold…" she whispered before taking her hand away. "Bella is too. I always thought it was just the weather, or… I don't know what I thought."

"It's okay," he whispered back, "people think of ways to justify how different we are. No one really thinks that we could be-"

"Vampires."

"Yes, vampires."

She gulped. Her eyes glistened but she set her jaw and straightened her shoulders. She met his gaze head on.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

Here it was, the punchline. "Because I would dearly love to marry you, but cannot ask in good conscience without you knowing the full truth."

Her breath hitched. She reached out and grasped his hand, squeezing as if to test how it felt. Carlisle knew full well that it was hard as rock. She moved to his cheek and tried to pinch at it. Ineffectual, his skin didn't move under her fingers. Then she tried his hair, she tugged on a section but his scalp didn't move at all. She hesitated, then took a handful and yanked with what he had no doubt was all of her strength. He didn't even flinch, although his lip quirked up in the shadow of a smile.

She exhaled and her hand loosened, although it stayed resting on his bent head.

"You want to marry me, do you?"

His head darted up and he stared at her in disbelief. She wasn't actually considering it after this, was she?

"I'm so confused," she whispered, "this is all so much… that you are… and oh God your siblings too?"

"My family is like me, yes. But I must tell you that they are not my siblings."

She frowned. "Then who are they?"

"I am quite a bit older than them." He huffed a laugh. "I am… hundreds of years old. They are only decades. Children is a more appropriate term, I think of them as my children."

She was staring blankly at him again. He'd overloaded her.

"They're your children," she finally replied.

"In a way."

"So they weren't born from you, then? Are they born?" She crinkled her nose. "Or turned like Dracula?"

"Turned," he said. "We all started out as humans. I turned Bella, then she went out and found Jasper and Peter and brought them into the family. They have a very interesting and complicated story of their own that they should really tell you themselves. I'm sorry I'm doing a terrible job of explaining all this, it's just that I've never done this before and I-"

She shushed him. "You've never done this before?"

"In all my years, I have never had to explain what I am to a human." He frowned. "None of us have. I really have no idea what I'm doing."

"Right…" She sighed and lowered herself out of the chair and to the floor, where she knelt with him. She took his hands. "You say you're hundreds of years old? You must have an interesting and complicated story of your own and I would like to hear it. Tell me who you really are."

He stayed silent for a moment, looked into the unwavering gentleness of her clever eyes, and told her everything. He told her about England in the 1600s, about being the son of the pastor. He told her about being turned, about the pain, about struggling not to harm humans and discovering that he could drink from animals. Before long he was rambling about everything; the Volturi, the War of Independence, moving to the US. He almost started talking about Bella finding him before he checked himself.

"Bella should tell you the rest," he said. "You are very important to her, and she would want to tell you her story herself."

45 minutes into the strangest tale she must have ever heard and Esme almost seemed relaxed.

"Okay," she sighed and smiled in that soothing way only she could pull off. "Where is she?"

Bella appeared in the doorway faster than the human eye could track. "I'm here!"

Esme jumped, startled. Carlisle cringed.

"We also have amazing hearing."

"I can see that!" Esme laughed uncomfortably and clambered to her feet, waving off his hand as he tried to help her. "Right Carlisle, I'm going to talk to your children while you go calm down."

"I'm calm!"

Her laugh was genuine this time. "No, you're not. I understand how nerve racking this must be, go for a walk or something. Take in some fresh air."

Why did they all always send him on walks? He would have grumbled, but then he realized that Esme still felt comfortable enough to order him around. She was smiling at Bella the way she always had. She fit in here, she fit in with this family. He had been so distracted by his fear that she would run screaming that he hadn't noticed his yearning to have her say yes. To be a part of his family. To be his wife.

He followed her instructions, grabbed his coat and hat, and tried to trust that his children would convince her they were safe enough to build a life with.

Esme.

Some people fear change. They fear things they don't understand, they fear being left behind by a world not interested in taking them with it. They hide away from the realities of life and deride anything new so they aren't forced to accept that they aren't part of it. People make fools of themselves trying to keep their view of the world the same.

But Esme Platt was no fool. The Cullens were strange, that she had always known. Their faces were near perfect, their eyes a strange butter yellow, their skin whiter than white. They always held themselves differently, like they were forcing themselves to slow down. It seemed as if a ball of energy lived within each of them and was bursting to come out. They spoke strangely, they ate strangely, they looked at her like they had known her for decades. The Cullens were strange, but Esme had never been able to put her finger on why.

Well, now she knew.

Vampires weren't real. They were works of fiction; all myth and legend and Bram Stoker. They were impossible, too dangerous for this world. Terrifying. Yet she couldn't deny that it made sense.

She observed Isabella Cullen as she followed her to a small sunroom in the back of the house. There was something about the way she walked, something inherently graceful and poised that never quite seemed to fit in with her personality. Sometimes it almost seemed like Bella was possessed, not of this world.

Jasper and Peter were already sitting in the sunroom, reclined on the various sofas and cushions piled about the place. There were plants everywhere and gossamer curtains filtering the rising moon. Books were piled everywhere, along with letter writing supplies and sewing projects. Loose papers were stacked carefully on top of the coffee table. This was a comfortable place, an intimate place. She felt warm just walking in there.

Bella guided her to a comfortable chair, then sat down herself on a sofa next to Peter. She looked nervous, which was just fine as Esme was too. Jasper looked tense too, although as always his attention was fixed on his sister.

Was she even really his sister?

She cleared her throat, unsure of where to start.

"So… apparently you're vampires?"

Peter snorted, looking completely at ease. "Yes, that's right."

"...I have questions."

"We have answers," Peter grinned, "most likely."

"Okay…" Where do you start in situations like this?

"Do you kill humans?"

"No-" Jasper started to say but Bella interrupted.

"We used to. I mean… we have." She bit her lip and looked to the ceiling. "I'm sorry, I don't want to lie to you. It was just us three, not Carlisle. Other than Peter, Jasper and I haven't killed humans on purpose in decades."

"On purpose?"

Peter shrugged. "Accidents happen. We're very well controlled though. I just choose to drink the occaisional murderer. Do my civic duty."

"Oh... so other than that you all drink animals instead?" She recalled from Carlisle's story.

"Yes." Bella nervously giggled. "Just like you! In a way…"

Esme managed a smile at the joke and continued. "How old are you?"

Bella smiled like her heart was breaking.

"18."

"And how long have you been 18?"

Bella outright laughed, her eyes fixed keenly on the floor and then darted up at the evening stars through the glass ceiling.

"A while."

"36 years to be exact!" Peter cut in. "And I've been 18 for 37."

Bella rolled her eyes at her brother and jabbed her elbow into his side, he started to poke her in return. Esme turned to Jasper.

"And you?"

He smirked. "19 for 53, 'though this feels like a strange way to tell our ages."

She laughed. "Especially when these two are play-fighting like children."

The two that now looked like they were genuinely hurting each other at least had the decency to look chastened.

Bella looked calmer at least, like attacking Peter had given her something else to focus on. Jasper was laid back, one leg tucked over the other like he was perfectly relaxed. She realised none of them were moving the way they usually would. Peter and Bella only moved to jab at each other. Jasper barely moved at all, no shuffling or fidgeting, not even blinking. They weren't bothering to pretend to be human, they were actually at ease in front of her.

She felt a rush of warmth in her chest at the thought of them trusting her so much.

Jasper smiled.

"Wait…" Esme realized something. "Bella, you're speaking differently."

"Oh!" Bella jumped. "Err…"

"Bella's Texan accent isn't real." Jasper interjected. "She's from Washington. She puts it on to blend in with us because Peter can't do a Northern one."

Esme blinked. "A 55 year old vampire with perfect hearing and recall can't put on an accent?"

"We struggle with strange things sometimes," Peter pouted, "Bella can't do her own hair!"

"Hey! Says you!"

"We are frozen as we were when we were turned." Jasper said over the bickering. "It means sometimes we struggle to do things we never did as humans. Our attitudes and personalities are frozen too. Bella and Peter were still young and relatively carefree when they were turned, and so they will be forever."

"But you weren't?"

"No Ma'am, I was a Major in the Confederate army - and I was in way over my head! It appears I will be too serious and have a compulsive need to overplan for the rest of my days."

"The Confederate army…" Esme breathed and did some fast math. "19 and 53… so you were turned in… 1864?"

"'63," he corrected. "I was turned by a woman called Maria. At the time, and somewhat still today, there was a war going on in the south. Dozens of warlords were all fighting amongst themselves for territory to hunt in. Maria was one of these warlords and turned me to fight in her army."

"Territory to hunt what?" Dread filled Esme's stomach. "People?"

He nodded. "It is the shame I will carry all my life, Miss Platt. I've killed thousands."

"Esme." She absently corrected him. "So, how did you get out?"

"Well, I was Maria's right hand man for 16 years. I have a gift for knowing what people are feeling and I can manipulate those feelings at will. It was useful for controlling an army."

"It's easier to explain if he shows you." Bella said. "Can he?"

Esme nodded and seconds later was filled with the desperate need to laugh. Her head buzzed and her cheeks flushed and she couldn't help but find all this just so funny. She started to giggle, then to guffaw, until she was laughing hysterically.

Then all at once it was gone.

"Oh," she whispered as she righted herself. "Well that was strange."

Bella laughed. "We're used to it now. But I thought I was going insane the first time he used it on me."

"I'm sure." Esme said. "So, what happened next?"

"Peter was turned," Jasper continued. "By me. Maria would have me sire hundreds of newborns. The war camps were bleak, horrible places. But somehow Peter always seemed bright and happy. He's always been delusional I suppose."

"Hah." Peter deadpanned.

"It drew me to him," Jasper said, "he was a light in my darkness and he brought me a little bit back to reality. Then Bella showed up and dragged me the rest of the way."

"What year was this?"

"1886," said Bella, "I was looking for them. I wanted to break them out of the camp so I pretended to be a deserter from a rival army and joined up. It turned out that Maria could hold them to her with a gift of their own, I convinced them to leave with me and we joined Carlisle in the North. We have been together ever since."

"There's slightly more to it than that," Peter said.

"Yes, but it's a very long story and I don't want to overload Esme too much in one evening."

"Why were you looking for them?" Esme asked anyway.

Bella bit her lip. "That's an even longer story-"

"But one she needs to hear." Peter interjected. "Bella's from the future."

"I… Excuse me?"

This all officially became too much. Vampires were one thing. Well no, vampires were still preposterous and Esme couldn't quite believe all this was happening. But people coming to the past from the future? Truly unbelievable.

Bella sighed and began to sift through the pile of papers on the coffee table.

"Jasper isn't the only vampire with a gift." She said as she rummaged. "I have known mind readers, someone who could control the elements, people who could control who you love; my sister could see the future. I have one myself, I can shield myself and others from any gift that affects the mind."

"Okay…"

"The Volturi - Carlisle told you about them - collected vampires with gifts and found a girl named Selina who could turn back time. I would survive the journey because of my shield so the Volturi sent me back to stop something happening."

"To stop what?"

"Some rebellion," Peter grumbled, "she won't tell us the details."

"For your own good." Bella finally pulled a few pieces of thick paper out of the pile. "This probably isn't as convincing as it was in the 1800's, but I hope it will do it."

Bella held out a photograph, showing her, Carlisle and Jasper. The paper was glossy and almost sticky to the touch, and as crystal clear as her own eyesight. The clearest picture she had ever seen. They were wearing strange clothes, Jasper's hair looked shorter, but other than that they were exactly the same. It was bright, and technicolor, and futuristic; and yet thin and soft as if it were decades old.

Bella handed her a different one, this one of Esme herself. The photograph looked like it was from this time. Esme stood with her parents in front of a church, wearing a wedding dress she could imagine herself choosing. A man who was clearly her brother stood to her side, but he was taller than her and she couldn't quite believe it was Alexander. She flipped the picture over. On the back was written May 8th, 1917.

"My God…" Esme whispered, tracing the faded lines of her own face.

"I was born in 1988," Bella said. "When I was seventeen I met the Cullen family and fell in love with one of the sons, Edward. You and Carlisle were the leaders of the family. After a lot of drama that I won't go into, I was attacked and Carlisle turned me to save my life."

"That's why you see him as a father."

Bella nodded, then handed her a final picture. It showed Carlisle and Bella, but unlike Esme had ever seen them before. Carlisle looked exactly the same, but Bella was so different. She looked smaller somehow, her skin was darker and pink like she was blushing, her hair was shorter and a darker shade, as were her eyes. They were deep brown, so different from the butterscotch yellow she currently had. She wore a blue robe and a mortarboard hat and looked extremely embarrassed to be there.

"My high school graduation." Bella whispered. "2007. You and Carlisle insisted on a picture with just you two."

Esme's startled eyes settled on the third person in the picture. She had skipped over them as someone she didn't know, but then it dawned on her. It was her. It was her with her arm wrapped tight around Bella's human shoulders, and a proud look on her face. But her arm was pure white. Her hair looked shiny as metal, her eyes that familiar bright butterscotch, and her face eerily perfect. This was her as a vampire holding Bella as a human.

"How… very strange." Esme choked out a laugh because what else can you do in that situation?

Bella smiled back. "I turned two weeks later. The Volturi sent me back in 2012. They wanted to send me to 1942 but I chose to go further so I could rescue Jasper from the war camp. I found Carlisle first, then I found him."

"At great personal risk." Jasper added in, grumbling as if he were still mad about it.

Bella tried to wave him off, but he was busy unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and rolling the sleeve up to show Esme his forearm. In the moonlight she could just barely see tiny lines criss crossing up and down his skin. He stood up, walked towards where she sat and guided her to run her fingers over them. They were ridges, rounded; bite marks, she realized.

"Don't let Bella downplay the danger of what she did, because she'll try to." He said. "The wars were brutal, we all have scars like this. Bella risked her life to get us out, and still risks it every day. There is a man who can track her every move if she lets her shield down, and if she ever does she's dead. This is a dangerous life, Esme."

He returned to his seat. Esme fell silent, transfixed by the scars and the thought of the kind and gentle Cullens in a war zone, enslaved soldiers.

Bella cleared her throat and continued, less upbeat.

"You were in my family in the future, but originally you were turned by Carlisle to save your life after something horrible happened. I wanted to protect you from it so we came to find you now. I hope you don't feel betrayed, we haven't done anything to manipulate you I swear. Carlisle doesn't even know what you are to me."

"Although full disclosure," Peter said, "if he hasn't worked it out he's an idiot. Bella's not great at being subtle."

Esme bit her lip. "But didn't you just say Jasper can influence people's feelings?"

"Not to this extent," Jasper said, "and not when I'm not around. Anything you feel when I'm not there is 100% you, and I try my best not to influence people when it isn't necessary."

"Anything you feel for Carlisle and for us is all you." Said Peter.

"Well…" Esme sighed after a moment of silence. "You have given me an awful lot to think about."

"I'm sure we have..." Bella glanced out the window. "Oh shoot, Jaz what's the time?"

He checked his watch. "Gettin' onto eight. We should get Miss Esme home."

"I'll walk you." Bella said, jumping up. "I mean… if you want me to."

Esme smiled, stood, and squeezed Bella's rock hard elbow. "Of course I do."

As if walking in a dream, Esme accepted Peter's help putting on her coat and wrapped her scarf around her neck. She watched Bella button up her own thick wool jacket and realized just how much it was for show. This was all so surreal, so hard to wrap her head around.

The Cullens were wonderful people. Strange, but wonderful. They had been so intimidating at first; this mysterious set of siblings with no parents, no history and strange differing accents. It almost seemed like they were made of something else, something delicate and strange that caused them to act almost other.

The thought that she could become one of them, not just a member of their family but like them, was so odd. Cold and inhuman yet so warm and bright inside. It was so strange, so overwhelming.

Yet at the heart of it all, it made sense. The Cullens had paid her special attention from the beginning, when she entered a room she would immediately feel their eyes on her. When they saw each other in the street they would always stop to talk, these people that were known to keep to themselves by every other family in town. They always seemed so happy to see her. Excited, almost.

She believed Bella, Carlisle hadn't known who she was at the beginning. Of all the Cullens, he was the one who showed her the least regard at first. Her mother had thought to aim for Jasper after a while of detached politeness from Dr Cullen; but anyone with sense could see that Jasper was far too devoted to his sister to marry before she did. Peter was a lovely man with a wicked sense of humor, but his illness meant that Mother didn't consider him as an option. No, it was always Carlisle.

He was good. A good man.

Before today there was no question that she would say yes to him. Not just because it was what her parents wanted. When she was 16 and first met Carlisle, he didn't save her life - that was her mother being over dramatic. But he did keep her calm, treated her with respect, took care that she was comfortable and was unbelievably kind even when he didn't have to be. He set the bar too high for any other man to jump over.

Did this change things?

She waved goodbye to Jasper and Peter and held the door open for Bella on the way out. The younger girl - no, not younger - paused on the porch.

"Oh, I forgot." She rucked her coat up to stick her hand in her dress pocket. She pulled out an envelope, yellowed with time. She held it out, Esme was written on the front in perfect cursive.

"It's for you," Bella said. "From you in the future. Everyone wrote one for their past selves, to explain things better than I can. Take it."

Esme hesitated, then took the envelope. She wouldn't read it straight away, she decided. Her decisions and opinions in this needed to be all hers. She tucked it into her coat pocket to be carefully stored in a drawer later.

Bella smiled, her fingers lingered on the paper as if it were hard for her to let go. They linked arms and set off down the path, but as they turned towards the lane they caught sight of Carlisle wandering in the distance.

He turned to look at them, and upon seeing his face Esme had a moment of sudden clarity.

"Bella," she said, "could you give us a moment?"

"Of course." Bella looked around herself, and upon seeing that they were totally alone she just disappeared, leaving only a breeze in her wake.

Carlisle moved towards her at a more reasonable pace, one that she now knew he was putting on for everyone else's benefit. He didn't have to, not for her. It was strangely comforting to see them use their powers openly, to be trusted.

Carlisle stopped a few feet in front of her, his hand twitched like it was itching to take hers.

She took a step forward.

"You said something about wanting to marry me?" She murmured.

His eyes shot to hers, wide and almost alarmed.

"Are you serious?" He asked.

"Completely serious."

He stared at her a moment, then took the other step forward. He lightly, tentatively touched her still ungloved hand.

"I would," he said, "I would desperately love to marry you. If you would have me."

"Yes. I think I will."