Chapter 14: The Pastor's Son
A story by YellowSmoke
All right's belong to their rightfull owners.
Year 1956
Willow couldn't help the sob that escaped her lips, while tears ran down her face. She was really trying to stay calm and keep her breathing even, but it was getting harder each second and Willow wasn't sure how much more she could take. Right now she almost felt sick, her skin two tones paler than it used to be, sweat running down her face and she was shaking ever so slightly. Like someone who was feverish.
Willow knew that looking from the outside, her room seemed quiet. The whole house actually seemed to be silent from what Willow could gather, but she knew the Cullen's were there somewhere, as she could hear voices. Not their own voice, but she could hear them. Those who had chosen to haunt the Cullen's in their afterlives, and who had no care for Willow as they screamed, cried and yelled. Drowning Willow in their own voices.
She wasn't even sure what she was feeling except fear, as she lay curled up in the middle of her large bed. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her knees, somehow hoping the voices would stop if she hugged herself tightly enough, but nothing seemed to help. Around her sheets and pillows were spread out in a cluttered mess, none of it giving her the comfort she so desired. But she did desire some kind of comfort, but due to her absent father and heartless mother, Willow couldn't put a name to just what she desired. Not to mention she was far too stubborn to admit it to herself.
But she did feel overwhelmed, despite being alone at the moment. From her fetal position she couldn't see anyone, although she knew the ghosts had to be near, because Willow could hear them. Their weak hoarse voices cut through her bones, sending a chill down her spine, and no matter how Willow tried to cover her ears she still heard them.
A part of her felt furious about it, as all of it could have been avoided, if only Carlisle had given her those god damn pills. She had begged and tried to reason with him, but nothing she said would change his mind, and now Saturday had arrived. Her second time without her lifeline, and she was already feeling horrible.
The day had started out badly anyway, as Willow had woken up knowing she wouldn't be getting any relief from the constant pleading, screaming and threatening. It had left her sour and scared, seeing as last time had been like walking through her own personal hell. Willow had therefore on beforehand decided today wouldn't be a success either, and hadn't even bothered to get out of her light yellow nightgown. She knew her mother would be furious if she knew her daughter was still not fully dressed at four, her mother believing it was important to look presentable, but Willow didn't care much about her mothers advices at the moment. It wasn't as though she was there to support Willow at the moment, or even understood her own daughter.
Willow knew her mother would be horrified at the state of her room as well. If Willow was honest, she still didn't know who cleaned her room each day, but it was always spotless. Despite how careless Willow could be about the furniture, her bed was always made neatly, the pillows on the bench and armchair had been fixed into something stylish, and the pencils at her desk had been placed in a small cup. But today no one had been allowed inside the room, and Willow had thrown several pillows and blankets around the room trying to find some comfort. But none of it had helped, and now Willow's room looked like a mess.
Esme had of course tried to coax her out of the room several times. First by offering to cook her breakfast downstairs, claiming she could have whatever she wanted, if she would only come out of her room. But Willow had to her own regret snapped at the sweet woman, mostly because that god damn baby was crying nearby, while the elderly lady tried to soothe it without any luck. Although it didn't stop Esme, who returned just a little while later with a tray of breakfast, hoping Willow at least would eat in her room. But in pure stress and fear Willow couldn't swallow a single bite, leaving a full tray for Esme to collect just a few hours later, though it only made Esme even more determined to coax her into eating lunch. But after Willow snapped at her several times, Esme finally seemed to understand Willow couldn't be reasoned with, as she left with a sad expression.
Making Willow feel even more guilty. Esme did not deserve her anger when she only tried to take care of her, but Willow had no control over her emotions at the moment, just like she couldn't control her surroundings.
It wasn't as though Willow wasn't used to hearing the ghosts speaking, but knowing she wouldn't get a break throughout the day seemed to do the trick on her mentally. Over the days she had gotten more used to their voices, seeing Carlisle didn't give her enough medication to go through a whole day. But there was a huge difference between a few hours, and a full day of constantly crying babies, angry priests and frustrated elderly women. Edward as the only one seemed to understand he wasn't welcome, unless Willow was numbed by the pill, or she wouldn't be able to be near his army of ghosts.
Thankfully neither Carlisle or Edward had tried to talk to her today, Esme probably having warned them of her bad temper, but Willow knew it was a question about time. She couldn't hear any of Edward's ghost, and could only assume he had left the house, but she could hear Carlisle's angry father, probably from his office, while Esme's baby was close by as well. So close the elderly woman and infant sometimes stood inside Willow's room, making her close her eyes in frustration.
"Stop crying… stop crying!" The elderly woman once more begged the crying baby, Esme once more so close they chose to be in Willow's room, and no matter how she covered her ear, she could still hear them. She could hear how desperate the woman was for the baby to stop crying, the old woman being placed in her own personal hell, as she for eternity would have to endure the baby wail for it's mother. "Go to sleep… go to sleep…" the woman's old hoarse voice begged weakly, while Willow closed her eyes tightly, not interested in seeing a desperate woman trying to make a ghost baby sleep.
And the baby didn't seem interested either, only wailing louder for it's mom, and Willow would no longer say it was crying but rather screaming. It's small voice rather powerful considering it was dead, sending chills through Willow's bones. For a moment it reminded her of her own mother, and made her wonder if her mother had been frustrated like that with her as a baby.
"STOP CRYING!" the elderly woman yelled as loudly as she could, so loudly it made Willow peak up from her fetal position, but only for a second as it made the innocent baby scream even louder. Willow quickly tried to cover her ears once more, while a small sob escaped her own lips, and even more tears fell down onto the sheets. "Oh god… I am sorry, shhh please… I am so sorry… god I am so sorry!" the woman whispered heartbroken, though she wasn't trying to apologize to Willow but rather the baby. But listening to it's cries, Willow wouldn't say it made much of a difference.
"Stop talking!" Willow whimpered herself in her curled up position, far too overwhelmed to emotionally understand how any of these ghosts might suffer as well.
But nothing Willow said or did was going to make a difference at this point, the baby only crying louder and louder, while the elderly lady continued to beg and plead with the baby, before once more turning frustrated.
And for once Willow just cried, overwhelmed and frustrated with the situation, a whole day being far more than Willow could comprehend. Her body wasn't yearning for the pills numbing effect, but her mind was, no longer feeling as though she could think clearly. Which perhaps was the essence of Willow's problem. She would never learn to control it as long as she couldn't let go of the pills, but without them she wasn't able to think clearly, and would never find a solution.
It only made Willow cry even louder, while she began to pull at her hair in frustration. She saw no solution to her problems, despite what Carlisle had said and promised, and at this very moment she would do anything to stop that baby from crying further.
In an attempt to repress her own feelings, Willow tried to redirect her thoughts, hoping if she thought of something else the voices would stop or at least fade. She tried to think of Edward, and how they had stood so close together yesterday on the porch, while the sun went down. Focusing on how close they had been to one another, while feelings Willow hadn't felt before began to run through her veins. But the moment had been so short, making Willow yearn for more of whatever it was that made her feel so lightheaded. Focusing on Edward's gentle golden eyes, Willow tried to abstract from her surroundings, but with a sob she realized it was impossible.
Nothing could distract her from the crying baby.
Making Willow cry once more, while she grabbed a fistfull of the sheets in frustration, her knuckles turning as white as the sheet. But it simply wasn't enough, going back to grabbing her hair once more, while burying her face in the sheets instead.
Willow wasn't sure how she stayed in that position, but at last the cries and voices did seem to die down, though she knew it wasn't because of her own cries of despair. Her best guess was that Esme had moved to another part of the house, or even better had left for a while.
But Willow didn't dare move from her fetal position, afraid any movement might make the ghosts come back, and only tried to stop the tears as she evened her breathing. She had never been one who shed many tears, her mother always claiming it was a weakness, and as any other child she had tried her best to please her mom. Even now her mother had far too much power over Willow's behavior, despite how little care she had for her own daughter, and how much it broke Willow's heart just to think about her.
No peace lasted forever in Willow's life, as it didn't take long before a ghost returned. This time it was accompanied by its owner, as Willow could hear her door creak open, but she didn't care who it was, as another gleeful hoarse voice filled the room.
"No god can rid a witch of it's evilness," it hissed, and Willow immediately recognized it as being Carlisle's father, who seemed to have returned once more. He had been silent for some time, as Carlisle words in the car somehow had wounded him, but not for long.
"No!" Willow cried, burying her face even further into the sheets, as shoes slowly crossed the floor. Willow didn't have to look up to know it was Carlisle, his father already having revealed that. But unlike the last Saturday where he didn't give her a pill, she didn't have the strength to be mad at him now, but chose to simply cry.
But it didn't seem to affect Carlisle enough to leave, Willow feeling how the mattress dipped as someone sat down close to her. And then a stone cold hand began to rub her back soothingly, just like how her mother should have done it, but never did it. Yet Willow couldn't make herself say the words that would make him stop.
"Look at you!" the priest hissed, despite his weak voice. "God gave me a weak child to test me, and now i am punished for my failure, having to watch my own son live such a sinful life, beyond salvation,"
"Stop talking!" Willow begged desperately, but as Carlisle wasn't talking it must have been apparent to him he wasn't the problem. And so he chose to speak.
"Take a deep breath and listen to my voice Willow," Carlisle ordered her gently, his voice so sweet and filled with compassion Willow wanted to melt in his presence. His cold fingers slowly moved up to her honey colored curls, prying her own fingers apart and away from her hair, only to replace them with his own, as he carefully ran them through her hair. His cold skin soothing her scalp.
"I can't… it's too much!" Willow protested, wrapping her arms around her knees instead. She knew it was absolutely wrong for Carlisle, a man she barely knew, to be this close to her and touch her like that. But Willow yearned for that kind of affection deep down, and a part of her knew Carlisle never would hurt her.
"Shhh, just try to inhale and exhale," Carlisle tried to convince her, gently grabbing her hand to place it on her stomach, to make her feel her own breathing. "Come on darling, breathe in," he urged her, while Willow closed her eyes in frustration, but did try to do as he asked, although it was hard for her to concentrate with Carlisle's father cursing them to hell in the background. "There Willow, now exhale," Carlisle praised her, and Willow did as he asked, sobbing at the same time.
"Just give me a goddamn pill!" Willow tried to beg, taking another deep breath, as the good doctor once more began to rub her back in comfort. Without knowing Willow leaned closer to him, so desperate for the affection he was showing toward her. Although she would have wished it was given by someone else.
"Just breathe for now dear. I am here, and I am going to help you, there is nothing to be afraid of," he comforted her, his voice so gentle and delicate with her Willow would have fallen asleep, if it weren't for the priest explaining how Willow would end up in hell. But his voice did make Willow forget about the pills, a subject he carefully sidestepped with his answer.
The breathing did help Willow calm down some, at least physically, her muscles relaxing after being tense for so many hours. Her mind however, was still a mess, although she was starting to get tired from being overwhelmed for so many hours. But it would be impossible for her to fall asleep yet, thereby continueing to torture herself as she coudln't find peace surrounded by ghosts. Strangely enough she fell asleep to the sound of crying babies and angry priests each night, as the pill didn't last that long, but because she hadn't been given a break she was too upset to sleep. Most of all feeling like a small child who had been denied a nap, and now was overworked.
"Shhh, drink a bit," Carlisle tried to convince her, when Willow whimpered as he pulled her up into a sitting position, pressing a cold glass of water into her hands. Without thinking Willow instrictly leaned against Carlisle side, seeking the comfort she hadn't been given for years. And for just a second Carlisle stiffened, perhaps surprised, before gently wrapping an arm around her shoulder and guiding her hands with the glass toward her lips. Willow hadn't consumed anything throughout the day, and she began to drink greedily as the water hit her tongue, forcing Carlisle to slow her before she choked or threw up.
From what Willow could gather, Carlisle seemed to understand she wasn't ready to talk, and simply allowed her to learn against him, while he ran his fingers through her curls, his other arm wrapped protectively around her.
He couldn't make the ghosts disappear, but could offer her the consolation she had craved for years. Each time his pale cold fingers ran through her hair, it made Willow want to cry even more, as her mother never had done such a simple action. Jane Quinn had never been violent or abused her daughter verbally, but she had been absent and uncaring, incapable of loving her own flesh and blood. Therefore Willow would have pushed Carlisle away under any other circumstances, but for now she was too weak, and allowed herself to give in for a little while.
But nothing lasts forever, and so it was impossible for Willow to stay in this state of safety, when a pair of ice blue eyes stared furiously at her. All while the ghost continued to curse Carlisle and herself, claiming only hell was awaiting her, and he would burn all of them if he was given the chance. It made Willow shudder, far too capable of imagining his suggestions, the pale boney priest not giving her any peace.
"Please just stop!" Willow cried, as she stared him straight into the eyes, before hiding her face in Carlisle's soft white dress shirt as her words changed nothing.
"NO!" The priest roared in his hoarse voice, pointing an accusing finger toward her. "I shall never be so soft as to fall for a witch's words, like my son did!" he proclaimed, looking with disgust toward his own child, who had no idea what his own father was saying to him. "You should have left her with those in white coats you admire so much!" he said furiously, while he made Willow shake violently, the thought of going to a mental institution setting her into a state of panic and fear.
"No… no!" Willow cried, while Carlisle seemed to sense she was getting distressed once more, as he with his free hand shielded her eyes from his own father, and turned her face and attention toward himself.
"None of them can hurt you," he tried to remind her, while Willow began to sob once more, heartbroken and overwhelmed. It made Carlisle sigh, probably because everything he had done to calm her down was useless against his own father, but it only made him wrap his arm tighter around her, as if to keep her safe. "My dear sweet child, if only you would allow me to help you," he muttered sadly, and Willow could only assume he felt as lost as herself, but he would never be able to understand her.
"You can't!" she cried, her large eyes staring into Carlisle golden ones, which were filled with compassion and a pain Willow couldn't understand. Did he truly feel sorry for her condition? For Willow it was still hard to figure out whenever this coven of vampires were trying to help her, or simply kept her at their house to keep their own secret safe.
"Shh you have to give it a chance first Willow," Carlisle tried to convince her in a soothing voice, removing a few tears from her cheek with his thumb gently, while he continued to shield her from his own father. But Willow could still hear the priest curse all of them to hell. "Why don't you just try to explain to me what is bothering you right now at this very moment?" Carlisle encouraged her, while Willow stared between the priest and Carlisle, unsure if she should allow herself to share something so private. The only one she ever had tried to talk to about it with was her mother, who had shut her down each time before she could begin, and had taught her daughter early on it was best not to mention it at all. The question was whenever Willow was willing to take the risk once more, and be pushed away due to her own curse. But she never got to think it through, as Carlisle must have noticed how her gaze shifted between himself and something he couldn't see. "It's my father isn't it?" he asked softly, he himself staring at the empty air in front of them, looking straight into his own fathers ice cold eyes. Deprived of any love or compassion.
It was the first time in many years father and son looked upon each other, and Willow felt a chill run through her bones, but as she looked at Carlisle she realized he didn't look scared at all.
"You have always been my greatest disappointment," the priest said, although his son couldn't hear what he was saying. Yet Willow still felt how the room seemed to drop in temperature, and unknowingly she pressed herself closer to Carlisle. Who instinctively held her tighter against himself.
"Yes…" Willow whispered after taking a deep breath, and broke the eye contact between father and son, as Carlisle once more looked at her. She wasn't sure whenever it was a good thing to involve anyone in her world, but she was so tired of being alone, and Carlisle's offer was far too tempting. "He was quiet for a while after you drove me to your house, but now he is back," Willow explained softly, shivering as the priest glared in her direction, and thinking she was cold Carlisle wrapped a blanket around her.
"And what does he say?" he pressed softly. If Willow hadn't been this overwhelmed she probably wouldn't have agreed to any of it, but in her tired state she didn't care
"That I am a witch…" she sobbed, and no longer trying to keep herself under control. Her mother had always said it was important only to cry when she was alone, claiming people would see her weakness, but at this point Willow couldn't care, as she continued. "And that you are beyond salvation, and… and," she cried, unable to form the words, as the thought scared her. "And that you should have left me at that hospital!" she finally managed to whisper, so low it would be impossible for a human to hear it, but Carlisle seemed to hear it just fine.
"I would never do something like that," he immediately assured her, once more combing his fingers through her hair to sooth her. "Shh, you are completely safe here. No one is going to do something like that," he continued to comfort her, and at this point he was the kindest and most gentle man Willow ever had met.
But as she stared at his father, whose cold eyes bored themselves into Willow, she couldn't help but see the contrast between father and son. It was like watching the sun and the moon, as these two men were each other's opposite, despite their similar features. Carlisle was such a kind, gentle and compassionate man, while his father was harsh, cold and uncaring, and it was hard for Willow to imagine how a father like him had raised someone like Carlisle.
"Look how the world has turned him weak!" his father said in fury, looking with disgust at his son for a second, before he once more looked at Willow. "If i had any say, you would be dead by now," he promised her, making Willow look down her hands in fear. He had been silent for a small while as Carlisle spoke, but it clearly didn't last forever.
"I really don't like you father," Willow mumbled to Carlisle.
"Neither do I," He said comfortingly, and made Willow look up at him, to check if he meant what he just said.
"I thought every child was supposed to love their parents? Even when no one else did," she asked surprised. She could without hesitation say she had loved her mother for years, despite how little her mother seemed to love her, thinking it was her duty as her daughter. Therefore it surprised her a person like Carlisle would say something like that.
"Well one should always try to love and forgive their parents, but you cannot always love a tyrant Willow, and that was what my father was," Carlisle told her honestly, and Willow noticed how his father became silent, although his eyes burned with fire as he wasn't satisfied with Carlisle's choice of words. But Willow did agree with Carlisle, his father was a tyrant. "After my transformation to become a vampire, I despised myself and loathed what I had become. I truly thought it was god's punishment for my sins, to live for eternity thirsting for the forbidden fruit. Each second of my life was a struggle between what was right and what was wrong," Carlisle continued, making Willow forget all about her own problems for a moment, listening intensely to his story. She had never heard much of his background, too afraid and overwhelmed to ask, but now her curiosity grew. And since the priest had chosen to listen as well, Willow found it easier to concentrate on Carlisle's voice. "But, the more control I gained over myself, I realized it wasn't the curse I thought it was. I was able to live among humans, and do good through my profession as a doctor. But most importantly I realized my transformation was a liberation from my father, and his way of life. I had lived in his shadow my whole life, trying to live up to his standards and do the right thing, shaping myself to fit his image. But in the end he was a bully and a tyrant, trying to dictate my life for selfish needs. There was no love." he explained, while Willow listened intensely, a part of her recognized some of the things he described, but Willow tried to push those things away. At least until Carlisle spoke once more, making Willow wonder if he could read minds as well. "But if i am not mistaken, you are not a complete stranger to selfish uncaring parents," he remarked, and made Willow look down at her hands, feeling something she couldn't describe run through her veins.
Because just like Carlisle, Willow had lived her whole life in the shadow of someone else. She knew what it was to have a tyrant, although her mother had shown it differently.
"Was he always like that to you?" Willow asked curiously, once more looking up. She deliberately chose to ask another question, instead of talking about her own life, as she wasn't ready for that kind of conversation. And she truly was curious about Carlisle and his ghosts, since she rarely got a chance to understand a relationship between a ghost and those it chose to haunt.
And to her surprise, Carlisle's father seemed to want to hear it too, choosing to remain silent as his son spoke. Probably just as curious about Carlisle's view on him as Willow was.
"For as long as I can remember I suppose yes, he was like that," Carlisle answered honestly, after thinking for a few seconds. "From what I can gather through faded memories, it was said he changed a lot after my mother died giving birth to me. But for obvious reasons I can't recall that side of him," he added, and made Willow realize they had more in common than she thought. She had never met her father either, just like he hadn't met his mother, though it was for different reasons. But it made it easier for Willow to sympathise with Carlisle, and feel some empathy toward him, which had been difficult for her as he had been the reason for all her suffering recently. Or at least she had thought so. But now she was slowly starting to see there was more to Carlisle Cullen than she had thought, and she listened as he continued his tale. "You have to understand I was born in the 1640's in London, and the expectations of parenting and the methods themself were different. What any father wanted was a strong obedient boy, who was ready to follow in their footsteps, and I wasn't like that. I tried to do it, as norms back then dictated so, but I was a weak child who was far too gentle for the time. My father only tried to make me tough, so I could withstand this world and all it's sins, but it was a poor attempt at love," Carlisle explained, trying to apologize on his fathers behalf, but Willow did not think that it was fair for him to apologize for another man's behavior.
And once more she could see herself in Carlisle's story. Her mother had wanted a beautiful and obedient girl as well, who was strong with a sharp mind. Instead she had been given Willow, who was anything but those things, but rather a weak strange girl who claimed to see the dead people. She could far too easily remember all the times her mother had tried to toughen her up, trying to shape her into the strong daughter she had dreamt off, but Willow had in the end been a failure in her mothers eyes.
"Did he beat you?" Willow asked, curious and horrified. She might not always agree with Carlisle, but she could never imagine anyone would have a reason to hit him, until she looked into his father's cold eyes, realizing he might be the exception. Although his face was expressionless at this point, the ghost simply too absorbed listening to his own son.
"Most people hit their children back then," Carlisle said softly, but Willow noticed how he remained calm, as if none of it mattered to him anymore. It was just an old story. "Obedience was the most important quality for any successful man. I shall spare you for the details, but yes, my father did beat me. Not just to teach me a lesson, but to take his frustrations out on somebody," he told Willow honestly, continuing to run his fingers through her hair, like she was the one who needed comfort, not him.
"It seems like my lessons taught you nothing in the end," the priest said darkly, and his sudden words made Willow look toward him for a second, before she once more ignored him and returned her focus to Carlisle.
"I am sorry that happened to you," she said honestly and looked into his golden eyes, trying to show how well she understood his pain, and Carlisle smiled in response.
"It's been a long time since I was a child, and the memories have faded," he told her in a comforting voice, followed by a few moments of silence as Carlisle appeared to be thinking. "But what is interesting is why my father has chosen to follow me for all these centuries, when his hatred is so outspoken," he finally said, although Willow wasn't sure whenever the question was directed to her or himself. "Do you think everyone involuntarily becomes ghosts, or do some of them move on to the next world?" He asked curiously, and made Willow slightly uncomfortable for a second.
Carlisle was asking for more information, and Willow wasn't sure whenever it was wise to give it, afraid it might be used against at some point. Although she couldn't think of a reason why Carlisle would do something like that, and so she chose to answer his question after thinking for a few seconds.
"I am not sure… " she admitted, as she had tried to avoid ghosts. Not study them. "But there used to be this ghost who followed my mom. I think it might have been my grandmother, who was disgusted by my mother's lifestyle, until she suddenly disappeared…" Willow explained, clearly recalling the ghost, as it was her first memory of ever seeing a ghost. Just like she recalled her mothers reaction when Willow chose to repeat the ghost's words.
"Disappeared?" Carlisle repeated curiously, with an raised eyebrow, but Willow could still see the fascination and curiosity in his eyes.
"Well, i don't know what happened, but i couldn't find her anywhere a few weeks before i moved here," Willow recalled.
"And you believe she might have moved on?" Carlisle pressed, still running his hand through her hair, although to Willow it seemed like a habit by now, as the doctor was deep in thought.
"I don't know… but I suppose yes. Mostly i couldn't hear here because of the pills, but from what i could gather, she wanted my mother to get a job and get married. And when she found a wealthy husband who could support her, she simply vanished. I just never saw her again," Willow tried to explain. Her grandmother had disappeared when her mother planned to get remarried, and Willow never saw how it happened, one day she just noticed the old lady was gone.
"Interesting," Carlisle muttered to himself, staring into the thin air in front of them, while the priest seemed to be watching Carlisle. Choosing to remain silent for now. "So could we make a hypothesis saying all these ghosts you see are ghosts, because they want things in our world, which they cannot access?" he finally suggested, taking a far more sciencetifically approach than Willow ever had.
To be fair Willow never had an approach, and had tried to avoid these ghosts for most of her life. Therefore she had never wondered too much why they were there, or if there was a way to make them move on because she got a magical pill that made everything better.
"I suppose…" Willow agreed with a bit of hesitation, as she had little experience despite how many years she had been seeing ghosts. "Although I think your father just wants to see all of us burn at the stake," she added darkly, but it only made Carlisle chuckle lightly, as if the thought of being burned humored him.
"Well he will have to wait for a long time then," he said softly and patted Willow's hair affectionately, giving her a reassuring smile as she stared at him confused. She couldn't see how Carlisle found any of this funny.
"You don't feel hurt that your own father wants to see you burn in hell?" she asked surprised, and raised a skeptical eyebrow, wondering if Carlisle perhaps had turned insane.
And seeing Willow's serious expression, Carlisle immediately stopped smiling, and instead looked at Willow with a sympathy she couldn't understand.
"It's been a long time since I was in his clutches dear." he told her, once more reminding Willow just how old he was, and how little his father had been in his life if one looked at the full picture. "I would like to believe I have grown into my own person, and stepped out of his shadow. A part of moving on is leaving some memories and feelings behind you, and getting the best out of what you're left with. My father's word does not wound me, because I know who I am, and I know I am on the right path whatever he says. To me he is just an old angry man, who lived a bitter and sinful life himself," Carlisle finished off saying, and shocked Willow and his own father. Because as Willow looked toward the priest she could see he was fuming, probably not satisfied with being called sinful, but he remained silent for now.
"I thought he was a priest?" Willow asked confused, and couldn't imagine how a priest could be so sinful, when it was their job to help others overcome their sins.
"Angelican Pastor actually," Carlisle corrected her. "And I suppose he was viewed as someone righteous and virtuous by his time, but in my view he was amoral, cruel and coldhearted. He had no care for human kind or the truth. It was actually due to his foolish beliefs that I ended up as a vampire," he said, just as Willow raised an eyebrow, while his father protested in the background.
"Your mouth is filled with lies!" he hissed, but Willow didn't care about the Pastor at the moment.
"How?" she asked curiously, seeing she was far more interested in talking about vampires than ghosts.
And thankfully Carlisle had no qualms talking about his past.
"We lived in London, where my father with other pastors for years had hunted what he believed to be witches, werewolves and vampires. Looking in hindsight I can say with confidence that these people were innocent of every accusation, but it didn't stop my father from torturing these poor souls to confess," Carlisle told her, but suddenly stopped as he saw the fear and surprise in Willow's eyes, her skin turning pale. Because had Willow been alive back then, she could very easily have been one of his father's victims. "Is it too graphic?" he asked worried.
"No… it's fine. Continue please," Willow encouraged her, and tried to repress the thoughts of being tortured and burned at the stake. Although being hospitalized at an asylum was bad, she would prefer it to the methods in Carlisle's youth.
"Well then, as my father grew older he became too weak and sick to participate, and ordered me to go in his stead. Deep down I was both afraid and disturbed by the thought, having witnessed more than one of his tourtorus sessions. At the same time i was so desperate to make my father proud, so i made my thorough research, and stumbled upon an actual coven of vampires in the sewers, and though i would make my father proud as I let a raid against these vampires, thinking i could rid our world of something that was evil and unnatural," Carlisle continued his story, while Willow felt herself become absorbed and listened carefully to every single word he spoke. She had always been good at imagining things, and so she could easily imagine a young Carlisle running around in the sewers of London.
"But that's not exactly how it ended?" she asked curiously, her fear long forgotten, instead trying to imagine the last few hours of Carlisle humans life.
"No… one vampire is far stronger than all the men I had gathered. It was only by pure luck I survived, but it came with a price," Carlisle answered with a sad expression, and showed his hand to Willow, although she never would be able to see the scar with her human eyes. "One of the vampires managed to bite me before they fled, scared of attracting too much attention, and because of his venom my transformation started,"
"How did your father react?" Willow questioned, glancing at Pastor Cullen for a second, but he remained silent. For once lost for words. Though Willow couldn't say why.
"I knew he wouldn't approve, so I hid in a potato cellar until the transformation was over." Carlisle explained. "I never saw him again, but due to you, I now know he found me somehow," he ended, while Willow looked at Carlisle for a second, wondering how he seemed so at ease talking about something that seemed so painful.
But this was in many ways a strange conversation, because Willow had never tried to talk to someone who truly believed she could see ghosts, and she could only wonder what it felt like to know a dead family member was near. But not being able to see or touch the person.
"And it doesn't bother, to know he can see everything you do?" Willow wondered, and looked toward Carlisle, who just shook his head with a small kind smile.
"I don't do anything I believe to be immoral or evil, so no. He can't hurt me, or say anything that hurts me. Although I am sorry he is able to hurt you," he apologized, but Willow didn't care about herself at the moment, far too curious and confused about Carlisle. She knew she wouldn't feel at ease, had it been her own mother who was haunting her in the afterlife, and would have been mortified had she been told Jane Quuin was watching her every move.
"So you have forgiven him?" She questioned, confused, and couldn't see why a man like Carlisle even should consider forgiving a tyrant like his father. Someone who had caused so much pain.
But Willow noticed Pastor Cullen was listening intensely as well, wanting to know the answer as much as Willow.
"Forgiveness requires those who have wronged you to show remorse, so no." he told her honestly, and began to stroke the edge of her forehead with his thumb, looking deep into her eyes while Willow felt herself melt in his presence. Soaking up something she had yearned for so long. "But I have found peace with myself, and put my past behind me," he continued, and gave Willow a knowing look. " I hope you can find that peace as well some day," he then added with a gentle voice, while Willow stared at him for a few seconds, unsure what she should say.
She had avoided his remarks about her own life earlier, and without knowing Willow had lulled into a state of sleep throughout the conversation, but as he said those words she awoke slightly. Staring into his soft eyes.
"Is it that obvious?" she asked at last, unsure what else there was to say. Her mother was such a painful subject for her, as Willow had found it possible to hate and love the same woman. Carlisle thankfully seemed to sense this, as he didn't try to press her for details, but still answered her question.
"No… I suppose not. I just see a bit of myself in your eyes. The hunger for something that's never been given freely." he told her gently, making Willow's heart ache in pain, but she couldn't deny his words.
And for a few moments nothing was said between them. Carlisle allowed her to think about his words, gently correcting the blankets around her shoulders, before he once more pulled her close to his side. His hand wrapped around her shoulders, and without thinking Willow allowed her head to rest against his cold body.
"But know Esme and I care," he whispered into her ear.
And nothing more was said between the two of them, as Willow glanced toward Pastor Cullen for a last time and realized he no longer tried to talk. He just stood there in the middle of her room, staring at his own son with an expression Willow couldn't explain. Carlisle hadn't solved any of her problems for now, but he had helped her find some peace for a while, although Willow couldn't explain how.
But most important he had given her something Willow hadn't dared ask for, and with a yawn she closed her eyes, feeling safe in his presence.
So that chapter only took like... a half year! Yikes! really sorry to all of you who waited so long, but know i never have given up on the story, life just got in the way! And now i am starting at university, so i honestly can't promise when i will update again!
But thank you to all those who have kept leaving comments behind, it's because of you guys i remembered why i loved this story so much, so really keep doing that! Commenting saves stories! (or something like that ;) )
Oh and this story has been given a book cover, made by myself in photoshop, so go check that out in the top if you have a computer or ipad! ;)
Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Willow still got a long way to go, and i believe Carlisle wanted to help her more, but couldn't at this point. Willow needed something else, but it's the first step, and Carlisle did do something, and more than he might know.
And this chapter was very Carlisle focused, as Esme's ghost is too much to deal with at the moment... and well Edward that would just be far too much!
Now a few people have complained they don't think Willow does not have a lot of personality, which isn't a lie or untrue, but it's mostly because of her upbrining. Because of her cold distant mother and lack of socializing with friends, she has no evolved a lot, or found a lot of hobbies, but does like to read. And because she spent all her time trying to please her mother, or being scared of ghosts, she has not gathered many likes and dislikes, always trying to guess what her mother liked or disliked. But a part of this story is also going to be her trying to find her own person, so be patient! I would like to say i am not cross with those who wrote this, as it isn't untrue, but it has it's reasons, and now it has been explained to everyone.
Anyway, have a lovely day, and leave a comment! i love to hear from you guys!
