Chapter 3

This is the last time I'll abandon you.

Muse Stockholm Syndrome

The rain tapered off and they moved back outdoors. The close quarters made Carlisle claustrophobic and he sensed that Edward needed more space as well.

Eight days after the fact, Carlisle was forced to acknowledge that he now risked losing Edward. It was painfully obvious that Edward was if not exactly wary of him, then not entirely trusting anymore either. The younger man kept his distance much of the time, allowing himself to be comforted in moments of extreme distress, but otherwise choosing to plant himself away from Carlisle.

Carlisle knew the onus was on him: he was Edward's maker, and, by default, his guide, his leader, his source of strength and stability. The task of dominant member of the pairing fell to him when he had made the decision to turn Edward and he was failing miserably at this most crucial time in the younger vampire's life. Aro had taught him better! Selecting and educating his mate first as a human. He had chosen Edward But I didn't! It just happened… His responsibility was to ensure Edward's adjustment to the world he had chosen for them.

But he couldn't quell the growing sense of panic that threatened to overtake him and not for the first time, he was entirely unsure of what he was (or should be) doing. He blamed himself solely for the attack on Edward, and couldn't decide whether it was best to stay or leave. He couldn't even contemplate the thought of leaving the only person he had ever loved; he could never give him up! But the thought of another assault was terrifying, one he would avoid at all costs.

Wracked with uncertainty, Carlisle was unable to remedy even the damage brought about by his own indecision - the fact that he fled abruptly (twice!) in Edward's time of dire need, leaving the boy helpless to fight his own demons, had furthered his mate's mistrust. Deep down, he prayed that Edward was mature enough to understand that he, too, was devastated by the turn of events and that he needed time to cope before he could devise a course of action. But he would have been blind not to see that Edward was suffering terribly due to his inability to hold himself together.

If the last year had not been so altogether and completely happy, if the advent of Edward in his life had not been so entirely, well, exhilarating, Carlisle might have been better able to deal with the growing breach between the two of them. He had experience watching the relationships of others - he had lived with the Volturi for some 80 years - and knew what to expect. But Edward was different! He was his first love, his first kiss, his first (he tried hard not to be crass about it) fuck. The arrival of a partner, a friend, someone to talk with and learn with and lie down with, stood out in such stark contrast to the lonely, lonely centuries prior to Edward. The years on the run, or in an empty apartment whiling away the hours until he could return to the public eye and pretend to be something he was not; the years moving from place to place each time he risked being discovered...

His despair during those dark ages had left him with a mantle of profound sorrow. Only Edward had enabled him to put it all behind him and start anew.

It was this radical change in his life that made the current shift in their relationship so impossible to accept. How completely happy he had been when they decided to settle (far from Italy) in America. He was excited and optimistic and positively eager to live each day.

Now, he felt desperate and powerless, ravaged - no, paralyzed - by unseen forces at work to destroy his happy semblance of a life.

Worse, he found himself nervous, uneasy even, in Edward's company - worried that he might be thinking the wrong thing, that Edward might react badly, that the situation would escalate and send them both further into the tailspin. He was much more careful than usual with his thoughts, which led to even greater paranoia and avoidance on Edward's part.. The end result was that all of his painstaking efforts to maintain a facade of stability by hiding his fears from Edward only served to exacerbate the existing problem and create even more tension between them.

He decided he needed to circumvent the past two weeks, well, two months really, and return them to a more sanguine time. Simultaneously, he needed to get Edward back to something like a normal routine. He hoped that gradual reintroduction to their lifestyle would do the trick, and he set about tasking each day to further Edward on the road to recovery. Edward was far from animated but allowed himself to be pulled along in anything Carlisle planned, engaging in the activities willingly enough. Having a schedule and a to-do list helped them both immeasurably.

Some days, the activity was as simple as coaxing Edward into conversation. He tried to bring back the happy memories of their travels in Europe and the odd characters they had met there. It had been a buoyant period for Carlisle at any rate, and he liked to think that Edward had enjoyed his company as much as he delighted in his new-found friend. How he cherished the memories of their walks together through museums and the woods; how complete he felt in Edward's company; how fascinating the experience of getting to know one another, physically as well as intellectually.

The sex had been a huge bonus, Carlisle admitted to himself, but he was first and foremost a gentleman and didn't allow himself to follow wherever that line of thought might lead. He liked to think he had a higher sense of morality (son of a preacher and all that) and that he would have loved Edward regardless.

Edward seemed mentally fatigued and struggled to recall the details of their trip. When he did remember, he managed little more than a weary nod.

Other days they gathered wood and rocks and built primitive shelters on the beach (Just like we used to in Wisconsin! Remember?). Self-sufficiency was crucial to a vampire's survival and Carlisle had taught him all of these skills early on; they never knew when they might have to flee and hide out in the woods. He took pleasure watching Edward master them once again. The boy was canny and capable, even in his weakened state.

They swam in the Bay and walked in the sand and tried very hard to appreciate the beauty of the natural world. Edward liked watching the dolphins and the seals play just off the rocks, and carefully plucked all of the starfish trapped in the tidal pools to toss them back to sea. You don't have to worry about them, Edward. The tide will turn and carry them back out to sea. They aren't in any real danger.

Carlisle read his favorite books to him, picked out constellations in the stars and wondered what it would all look like in ten thousand years, and spent hours just silently reassuring him with his constant presence. The latter seemed to be the most effective in spite of Edward's attempts to distance himself. If Carlisle felt unsure of his footing, Edward was completely lost at sea - craving Carlisle's presence while simultaneously pushing him away. Gone was the easy comfort of their former relationship.

Carlisle Cullen had never felt so alone.

One afternoon, Carlisle found a piece of a fisherman's net on the shore and started to drag it to the top of the cliff.

"What are you doing?" Edward was still on the beach, some five thousand yards away, facing the sheer incline Carlisle was scaling.

"Ah! So I did get your attention!" He smiled down at him, a little smugly for having surprised him. You'll see, still dangling from the side of the rock as he assessed the best angle for ascent with his precious cargo.

He fashioned a hammock for Edward from the net and two pieces of scrap metal he found and set it between two trees on the edge of the precipice. That earned him a genuinely delighted smile. Trust Edward to find dangling over the abyss of doom thrilling.

"Don't fall!" He admonished as Edward climbed in to test it, rocking a bit too hard to make it sway. Edward turned to cock an eyebrow at him and, rising to the bait, deliberately swung higher, taxing the strength of the metal poles.

"Fine," Carlisle retorted, "but you don't have any clean clothes. Don't come whining to me when you get wet!"

Carlisle's face relaxed into a smile as he watched the boy play in his hammock, and for the first time, he dared to allow himself to hope.

He was determined that Edward return to self-sufficiency in hunting. He had brought Edward game the first few days on the peninsula, but the boy had been too apathetic to feed. Finally, he had resorted to cutting himself and letting Edward feed from him. It was a dangerous move and not one he felt comfortable with. Edward's newborn strength was waning but Carlisle was still no match for him. The younger vampire could easily overpower him and kill him inadvertently. Accordingly, he never offered Edward an artery, choosing other areas where the blood flow was less abundant. And he made it a point to hunt daily for himself to retain his own strength while Edward was drawing from him.

By the second week, Edward was mentally and physically strong enough to keep up with Carlisle on the hunt, though he chose to follow rather than strike out on his own. Carlisle led him inland seeking variety in their diet and came across a wolf. In one motion, he rendered it helpless and beckoned Edward to come closer to finish it. Edward stumbled over to fall on the animal as if suddenly aware that he was ravenous.

Carlisle watched transfixed as the young vampire lapped contentedly, uncomfortably aware that he was becoming aroused by the greedy, succulent sounds emanating from Edward's mouth. Three hundred years of solitude had left him with a strong drive, one that Edward had unwittingly awakened. And as much as he had tried to overlook it over the past two weeks, he had repeatedly realized how very much he wanted Edward physically. Playing with him in the water, wrestling with him on the beach, holding him in his arms at night - Carlisle found it virtually impossible to ignore his near-continual state of arousal.

Watching Edward now was rapidly pushing him to the brink. Instinctively, he reached between his own legs to ease his erection into a less constraining position. His eyes traveled hungrily down Edward's body, and he knew rather than saw that Edward was hard as well. The act of feeding heightened a vampire's senses; he and Edward invariably finished their hunting expeditions tangled up in one another.

It took everything Carlisle had not to crawl over the slain animal to Edward to mount him. Feeling himself start to succumb to the beast within, he turned to flee, stumbling backwards in his haste to put as much distance between the two of them as possible, and ran blindly for several seconds. He intentionally slammed into a boulder hoping it would break a bone or two and help him to calm down, but the impact only sent pieces of rock flying and left him unscathed. He crouched down against it, clawing at it. His breathing was ragged and shaky, a reflex response to any arousal of his senses.

Even in his most predatory state, Carlisle usually managed to maintain a modicum of control and it rattled him that he was still battling the violent urge to run back to Edward. He groaned, gnashing his teeth, and reached down to relieve the mounting tension between his legs. He tore his pants open to grasp himself, snarling as he began to stroke his painfully swollen length. He could still hear Edward's sucking sounds and images of how that mouth might otherwise be engaged sent him into a frenzy.

He hitched steadily into his fist while his free hand roamed his face, his shirt, his thighs in search of something to latch onto. He fell onto his back, licking and biting the one hand while the other increased its pace and hold. His mind was growing heavy and blank and he imagined how Edward would feel touching him, on top of him, in him. He was babbling nonsensically, pushing himself deeper in the ground while his hips rocked upward in search of greater contact, spurred on by the almost unbearable pressure in his stomach.

He cried out loudly, gave one last hard thrust, and then arched back, quivering as he exploded. The roar from his chest shook the branches of the surrounding trees and was followed by a deafening silence.

Edward was bent over the carcass, stilled in thought and act as he listened to Carlisle's howl and felt the man's pleasure creep across his brain. He saw himself on top of Carlisle, and he contemplated it for a long moment. A part of him longed to call out to the only being he knew, to bring him back. It had been so long since he had kissed him! He could recall the feel of his hands running over his body and taste his sweet breath on his tongue. Suddenly he wanted him. Badly. More so than he ever had. He wanted to run his hands wildly through his hair and feel his shaky breath traveling down his stomach. He sat back on his heels, looking out through the trees, trying to find the body that matched the thoughts in his head. He almost stood to walk out to him, but felt diffident. He opened his mouth to speak, but somehow he couldn't summon his voice.