"And, oddly enough, he needs me, too. That part worked out better than I could have hoped." - Rosalie, Eclipse, p. 165 (Stephenie Meyer)

Quick note: Thanks for your reviews and encouragement! I truly don't feel like I deserve your meaningful compliments, but it makes my day to see how you respond. This conversation between Emmett and Carlisle has been foreshadowed since the beginning and I feel it is incredibly important in their individual developments and ultimately the development of what it will mean to Carlisle to be a "leader" as he became in the canon saga. I do appreciate your patience as I get back into a routine with school and mental health care. I really value your kindness and your reviews! Thank you for investing in me and this story!

Side note: Next chapter is a part two viewing Esme and Rosalie's exchange that I also consider extremely instrumental in this sort of parallel structure. A chapter with Dorothy is in the works of course... Lots coming up soon!

Please consider leaving a review! Every word means the world to me! Thank you immensely for your words thus far.

TW/CW: Reference to abuse and suicide

Big God

Well, you can never know
The places that I go
I still like you the most
You'll always be my favorite ghost

You need a big god
Big enough to hold your love
You need a big god
Big enough to fill you up

Sometimes I think it's gettin' better
And then it gets much worse
Is it just part of the process?
Well, Jesus Christ, it hurts
Though I know I should know better
Well, I can make this work
Is it just part of the process?
Well, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, it hurts

Carlisle

I watched him change. Like a beaten dog, he bowed his head and turned away from me even as he walked toward me.

It wasn't guilt that filled his eyes after I spoke. It was something else. It was some sort of acknowledgment of his perceived inferiority and worthiness of punishment.

It was peculiar.

Rosalie watched him tragically, something in her eyes I didn't understand, but it broke my heart nonetheless.

He looked back at her before he passed through the threshold with me, but in that instance, she avoided his eyes. Rosalie kept her arms tightly crossed over her chest, one of her hands lifted so her fingers could trace across her lips nervously.

I reached to put my hand on Emmett's back in a sort of gesture of good will, but he tensed up so I knew it wasn't well received and I put my arm back down by my side instead.

That's when I smelled her on him.

My eyes darted back to Rosalie, seeing her nervousness in an entirely new light. It was obvious they'd been physically close even aside from their dishevelment and the smell of her on his skin.

They wore heaviness that pinpointed a significant change. Something had changed.

But, it was far from the smitten first sparks of new romance though.

It was the painful friction of sharpening iron.

There was much to consider as they began their relationship with one another.

Esme's instinct was beyond all understanding and she'd already made it to Rosalie's side. She had felt the same compelling need to look out for Rosalie's best interest as we saw how spooked she looked right now.

It was hard to tell if she was spooked by Emmett or just situationally spooked. Regardless, I pinpointed the look in Rosalie's eyes finally. I realized that it had taken so long to identify because it wasn't something I saw in them often.

Rosalie was stubborn and didn't like acknowledging when she was wrong, but in this moment… She looked like she was harboring guilt. She looked like she felt shame…

She looked like she was sorry.

Rosalie had made it obvious and intentional the way she estranged from the rest of us, and I doubted she was sorry for taking Emmett hunting or staying gone for three days. She wasn't projecting that guilt in my direction or Esme's - rather Emmett's…

I wondered then, getting more and more confused.

I led Emmett into the house, and he swallowed nervously.

I could feel his energy in the air had greatly calmed since hunting, but there was a nervousness and life to his energy that was like a volcano just waiting to erupt.

He was volatile.

But for the first time, it wasn't an undercurrent of anger.

It was just boyish nervousness.

"The runaway returns." Kate snickered, looking up from a book at her place on the couch.

He removedly smiled, but uncharacteristically, it didn't touch his eyes.

"Where's the princess?" Kate asked, obviously trying to dispel the tension that was evident between us. "She didn't meet the same fate as your shirt I'd hope."

Emmett rolled his eyes, his joking manner shining through the awkwardness.

"Not quite. Rosalie's outside." He seemed to want to say her name.

"She took you hunting didn't she?" Kate raised an eyebrow as if she was shocked Rosalie had gone behind my back.

I tried not to have any sort of expression on my face that could be misread as both their eyes examined my face.

"I didn't really make it easy on her." Emmett shrugged seeming defensive.

"Oh, I'm sure you didn't." Kate laughed.

She returned to her book, Virginia Woolf, and Emmett knew this was just a momentary reprieve from the journey that'd lead to our looming conversation.

I longed to ease his worry, but nothing seemed to help.

His nerves were vibrating and they'd reached their peak the moment I closed the door behind us.

He kept his eyes down and away and in this moment, he looked like a young boy…

"You can sit." I gestured toward the chair across from the desk I'd used as a study while I was here in Denali.

"I'd rather stand." He mumbled, keeping his eyes down.

"Whatever you prefer." I said, but lowered to sit in an effort to make him feel more comfortable.

The air was thick. The silence was heavy.

"Look at me, Emmett." I exhaled.

He pulled his eyes to mine in a way that was pained, then immediately dropped them back down to the floor.

"I know you've hunted." I began. "I'm not angry with you. I'm glad you and Rosalie are all right."

"I'm sorry, sir - I mean…" He mumbled.

I couldn't even pretend I wasn't taken aback at how he'd called me sir in a subconscious response.

"No, I… Emmett, listen…" I tried to read him, but nervousness fell off of him in waves and he kept tension in his shoulders that created a wall in front of his usually open mind.

Then I realized, it looked like he was braced for me to swing at him.

But, Emmett didn't even realize that was his instinct…

"I wanted to tell you… I'm sorry." I said, the sincerity dripping from my voice.

I was sorry for everything.

For all of it.

His sunset colored eyes met mine then in an odd disbelief.

"You were right." I told him with a nod. "I shouldn't have questioned you. It was not my place, and your personal investment in the situation with those people in Tennessee was something I shouldn't have pretended to understand."

Emmett exhaled then, softening as if he accepted my apology. He did so though with a sort of reticence that suggested distrust.

Maybe no one had ever apologized to him before.

"But, this family… this life… the way in which we have to live discreetly to survive unbothered by the Volturi and the human governmental structures in place, I want to prove to you that you can trust in my understanding of it." I spoke, trying to articulate exactly what I meant in a way that would resonate with authenticity.

He clenched his jaw, looking away again.

"What will that take?" I asked him, stepping forward.

He towered over me, but again in this moment, he shrunk.

In this moment, he was young, and naive and I felt every bit of my six hundred years between us.

Even though my body was frozen at just a little over three years older than him, I was over half of a millennia older than him.

He was just a child.

"I… I don't know." Emmett began nervously, running a hand through his hair like a nervous kid.

"Do you like this life, Emmett?" I asked him tangentially, but there was a point in understanding this.

At this he looked up, fire in his eyes and he nodded.

"I do." He confirmed.

"And, do you know why I gave it to you?" I asked him. "Really."

"For Rosalie." He answered, speaking her name with new reverence, his voice encasing it with gold.

I shook my head.

"Yes, Rosalie found you, and she brought you to us. I trust Rosalie and I trust her conviction. But really, I saw in her that she believed you could make this life your own, that you would carry immortality with intention, and that you would make good of the years you are given. Rosalie believed that your life wasn't finished that day with the bear." I went on. "I believe that too."

He looked at me with an emotion that could only be described as awe.

"I understand the ill-fitting nature of your new instincts, your new senses, and your new life, but I didn't give this existence to you for some sort of servitude of my own personal interests, nor for Rosalie's. This is your life now, Emmett, and it's up to you how you want to live it."

He took a deep, shaky breath then, his eyes running over my face as if he was searching for something.

"I hoped to guide you with my own understanding and help to serve your best interests while your decision making and emotional capabilities are impaired in your newborn state, but I never want you to think I'm trying to control you." I told him, fighting for his eyes even as he tried desperately to look away. "And, I never want you to feel reduced to a peace offering for Rosalie. Because that's not the truth. You're here because your life wasn't finished. It's just beginning, and it's yours to live at your own discretion."

"I…" Emmett looked at me in some sort of panicked confusion like he couldn't believe or process anything I was saying.

"I'm still learning, Emmett. I'm asking you to forgive me that I don't always make the right decision as a leader." I told him sincerely. "I was hard on you and I'm sorry."

"I want to be worthy to lead this family, and I want you to want to be a part of this family. Please forgive me and give me another chance." I pushed, my heart on my sleeve.

Emmett was vibrating with nervousness, but he nodded.

I exhaled, the silence thickening.

"My old man was pretty shitty." Emmett finally mumbled his eyes staying away from me in what looked like some sort of misplaced shame.

"Needless to say, it's not worth the breath to tell the story; in the end it really doesn't matter what he did or didn't do. I just know I try to pretend it didn't all royally screw me up… but, sometimes… I hate seeing that it might've."

I waited, observing the change in his expression as his eyes scanned over .

"I was… harsh in what I said to you." He admitted. "I didn't mean it… all of it anyway."

Emmett was self-assured enough to know pride didn't get anyone anywhere. He admitted he knew he was wrong.

"It's okay." I tried to assuage the guilt I saw in his eyes.

"I just… I still don't know how to be… around you." He said candidly, almost flinching as he admitted this to me in his characteristic blunt honesty.

I was shocked at his abrupt change of subject, but I kept up.

"We're still getting to know one another." I offered with a little smile.

"No. It's not that. It's…" Emmett took a deep breath.

"It's…" He frowned. "It's stupid, but… You know… When Rosalie brought me to you, I thought you were God."

He smiled, a little amusement flashing across his face.

"I remember." I chuckled a little snort through my nose but was careful not to offend him.

"I didn't understand a whole lot about God when I was growing up. I mean, I was Catholic when it counted - well, I guess I was actually a pretty bad Catholic, because I didn't… I didn't understand the point of it all. Father, Son, Holy Spirit… The only experience of a father I'd ever had was just… hell…"

"So why?… Why would I want anyone like that?… A Father?…" His voice shook slightly, just enough to let me know he didn't say this lightly. "I knew what that word meant to me and it wasn't something… good."

"Our Father who art in heaven…" Emmett mumbled, looking down the rows of books behind me.

He knew the words. They were braided through his memory, even though it was apparent it'd been a long time since he'd said them.

I waited, seeing and feeling the connection and weight within all Emmett said.

"But, I didn't want any of that. I didn't need it." Emmett confirmed.

"An earthly father or a heavenly one." He said.

I waited, watching him carefully and knowing there was more brewing in his mind.

He took a deep breath, his mind already made up to be open.

"But… But my Mama talked a lot about grace. About… about God lovin' you no matter what you do or who you are, forgiving you…"

His spirituality wasn't something I had expected to address in this conversation, but I welcomed his openness and sensed his tangled thoughts on the matter that I longed to assuage.

I knew I could.

"Yes." I said, just to verbally confirm his expressive processing.

"That part… That sounded nice." He said under his breath, fidgeting nervously.

"It does." I gave him a small smile.

"I went to Confession." Emmett said. "But, I… I could never… understand why God would want to forgive me…"

Edward had been very upfront about believing in the damnation of our souls after this life, and perhaps this was something Emmett was struggling with as well. It burdened my heart and I felt a hopeless fault for what I'd done to them.

The burden was almost too much to bear sometimes and so I looked away from Emmett.

Even if he did find his religion again, would it even matter?

It was obvious though that he was waiting for an answer then, knowing I was well versed in world religions.

"Because…. He loves you." I responded simply because that was the best way to respond to that question.

Emmett frowned evidently not used to that arrangement of words.

Maybe he was having a hard time believing he could be loved.

I saw unworthiness weigh on his expression.

"But, I messed up over and over and over…"

I watched his eyes soften and I tried to remain open and ready to respond as he needed me to.

"That doesn't make you unlovable." I emphasized.

"Even when I screw up, you let me stick around." Emmett expanded, and it was evident then the connection he was trying to make and it made me lightheaded.

It was too much.

He kept his eyes down, uncomfortable speaking to me in this way.

Heart wrenching conversation was far from normalized in any structure between men, but he was expressive and open in a way no one else I'd ever met had been.

"Nothing could drive you out of this family if you really want to stay." I nodded, but treaded with care knowing full well after his barbaric display of strength and anger in Tennessee what he was truly capable of.

With strength like that, he could destroy a city within minutes if he wanted.

But maybe now he was telling me he wanted something more…

"I don't know…" Emmett didn't believe me, seeming to take a similar path in his mind. "I've done some pretty terrible things."

"That was before." I tried to make him see, but he remained discouraged.

"You look at me the same now, even after you know what I've done." Emmett went on. "Even after I deliberately disobeyed you."

"Because you're still you. You're not what you've done." Again, I nodded.

"And what if I screw up again?"

"If you want to be forgiven, you will be forgiven." I said evenly.

"I just don't know how to… I don't know…"

He sighed boyishly.

"I don't know how to not to disappoint people." Emmett finally said what he'd been trying to say for weeks. "I think sometimes I even do it on purpose…"

I nodded, understanding immediately.

"When I was human, I was a pretty big disappointment to my family." I began and he looked up, shocked at the beginning of my story. "My mother died giving birth to me, and so my father devoted his life to the faith. It was a different time. One of chaos in religion and politics, and my father and other clergymen in town led hunts for witches, werewolves, and vampires on behalf of the Anglican church."

Emmett's interest peaked.

"Everyone in town respected my father, feared him even. He was good at pointing out evil and sin. He was even better at punishing it." I went on.

"He had groomed me to take over for him in the raids as he aged, but I… I quickly became a disappointment. No one was on trial. No one was burning at the stake. No one was accused. And my unease in accusing innocents or just distrusting Catholics like you is what made me a disappointment."

Emmett understood.

"But, I did actually find a real coven of vampires in the sewers." I felt heaviness then. "And, that's how I was changed."

"Everyone had been disappointed in me, but I wasn't disappointed in myself, the man that I was committed to being." I nodded. "That's all that mattered."

Emmett nodded.

"When I woke up from the change though… that's when I was disgusted by myself, by what I had become… I thought becoming a vampire meant I would lose myself, but by hunting animals, I realized I could still be the kind of man I could be proud of being."

Emmett's eyes held an emotion I didn't understand and he looked away.

"Emmett, listen. The only thing that would disappoint me is if you used this life as a vampire as a way to lose yourself, and to lose everything you are." I put my hand on his shoulder and this time he didn't flinch away.

He just nodded.

"But, I've never…. been any good." Emmett spoke under his breath.

"You know that's not true." I encouraged him, putting my hand on his face in an extremely paternal gesture.

He shrugged me off. It had been too much.

"Well… good enough." He corrected himself.

"Do you really believe that?" I asked genuinely wondering if the abuse that scarred him the most was actually psychological.

"I mean… Try keeping up with you or Esme or… Edward… for Christ's sake he does everything right." He growled with a deep, labored sigh, running his hands through his hair. "Or… Rosalie…"

"You don't have to keep up with anyone else, Emmett. I want to make it clear no one's asking that of you." I told him. "We're all just asking for you."

His eyes searched my face for the truth, and I knew he'd find it there. I knew that he did once his eyes dropped again and the air around him lightened.

"And I think I can speak for Rosalie's interest in the matter as well." I said, trying.

His face turned a paler shade of pale then as his eyes darted to the floor.

"I don't know…" He mumbled.

I figured him out then. He was conditionally forthcoming. In fact, I think he was blunt and honest and open just enough to distract you from the fact he could actually be withholding something.

Interesting.

I thought then that maybe she'd rejected him. This would explain his insecurity and her guilt.

"Trust me." I prompted.

"I'm trying to trust you, but I don't, and I know it's cause of my old man." He said plainly, his eyes staring into mine now. "Rosalie told me you know that too. You've been studying… people that had… experiences like… that… getting knocked around as a kid, I mean."

I didn't know what to say then. He'd actually caught me off guard. There was a difference in the look in his eyes though as he said this. He wasn't combative or challenging. He was just openly and honestly communicating his disliking of me and where it was coming from.

I wasn't used to such bluntness. It was refreshing, but in this case, alarming.

"Yes, I have." I nodded, validating him. "I wanted to understand…"

Emmett appeared well-adjusted, but I worried…

"But, I don't…" Emmett furrowed his brow.

"What don't you understand?"

"I didn't think it affected me. I mean, in the moment, I didn't… mind it really. I mean I never thought he was… abusing me. That's just what… some people do when they're upset."

"Do you really believe that?" I asked him, willing my voice to stay even so he wouldn't be offended.

He needed more intervention than I'd realized.

I'd read about denial and this proved how Emmett still viewed everything his father did to him as justifiable punishment.

This was of course problematic as he navigated his relationship with Rosalie… Particularly as both of them had stories with a different undercurrent of violence.

I had to be careful now.

I was on edge.

He'd revealed something altering.

"I mean that's how his father treated him." Emmett said. "At first, I blamed it on the war, everything my father went through. But maybe it wasn't the war. Maybe it was just him…"

It sent a chill down my spine.

He was insightful.

I was taken aback, wracking my brain for something to say.

"And what about you?"

"What do you mean?" Emmett asked.

"Emmett… Well…. You know, what happened with your father…. that was a pattern of behavior that you don't have to continue and…" I began realizing statistics showed that it was likely for people abused as children to grow up and abuse others.

Edward had told me about Emmett's role in that fighting ring…

"I know that." Emmett truly retorted now, utilizing the full sharpness of his voice as he cut me off. "And, I know what you're suggesting."

"I would never hurt Rosalie." Emmett almost snapped, something deeply convicted in his eyes as he saw straight through my desire to beat around the bush. He preferred an upfront approach. "Ever."

I swallowed, seeing the same burning passion in his eyes now that I did before he killed all those people in Tennessee.

"That's not what makes a man."

"I know." Emmett frowned, seeming intensely offended as I questioned him.

"Do you?"

I knew Rosalie was capable of handling herself. She was strong and intelligent, but I could never be too careful especially seeing the way she'd looked at him today.

She was vulnerable.

"I do." Emmett swore intently, staring into my eyes unwaveringly.

"Emmett, listen…" I darted my eyes down, letting him win as he'd desired. "I need you to understand that you didn't do anything to deserve that sort of treatment from your father."

He snorted.

"Nah, I mean I was a pretty bad kid." His eyes didn't show his humor and dismissiveness, but he laughed.

I took a deep breath, trying to sort my words with compassion.

"So you don't think your father was wrong in the way he treated you?" I asked as tenderly as I could.

Emmett clenched his jaw, obviously perplexed with me.

"What good's it do now?" He mumbled. "That son of a bitch's rotting at the end of a rope."

"Frankly Emmett it'd do a lot of good to acknowledge that he was wrong to abuse you." I cleared my throat. "Because I need to be very clear. The studies I have been reading, the one's Rosalie's been reading - they show that the one clear difference in the abused children that grow up to abuse others and those that do not lies in the insight that their parents were wrong to abuse them."

Emmett's eyes came up to me now, alarmed because he knew I wasn't finished.

"And until you can authentically prove that you acknowledge abuse isn't a justifiable punishment for wrongdoings…." I took a deep breath watching the betrayal flood into his eyes. "Until you do that, I cannot allow you to be alone with Rosalie."

"What?" He was breathless then, absolutely taken aback like I'd tricked him.

"I can't take that chance, Emmett." I told him gravely. "None of us can. Not with Rosalie."

"I would never hit her. Ever." He emphasized, his eyes wide.

"What if she does something that upsets you?" I asked, trying to keep my tone gentle to calm him down but it wasn't working.

He was a live wire.

"She wouldn't ever deserve something like that. I've never hit a lady. Never and will never. I know that, Carlisle. I do. I get it." He spoke quickly as if to shut the door on my thought pattern leading this conversation.

"Then why do you feel that you deserved something like that?" I asked him point blank.

"It's just different…" He growled running his hands through his hair.

"Not from my point of view." I nodded.

"Goddammit." He snarled under his breath, obviously stressed by this conversation.

His capacity for being forthcoming had been reached.

"Emmett, you are a good man." I told him honestly, seeing it in his eyes. "I know it wasn't easy for you to become one."

He clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes away from me.

"I know you're good. Just because we have expectations for you, and just because you can be better doesn't mean you weren't good to begin with." I went on. "You never deserved what was done to you. You were always good enough."

"Stop." He requested, finally looking up at me. "I know that. I do. Really."

He let out a deep exhale, seeming to relax and open a new compartment of his mind previously hidden from me.

"It was just easier to get through it when I believed I was worthless. I couldn't hate my father if I thought I deserved what he did to me." Emmett mumbled. "I couldn't hate my mother for letting it happen. Or God… Or my sisters for just watching."

My stomach sank to my feet. I understood immediately.

"I was thirteen or so, and I'd done something important to me, something that made me who I am, the man I wanted to be - and I got the ever living shit knocked out of me for it." Emmett expanded. "I got a beating I didn't deserve, and I realized it. I realized that day I wasn't getting hit because I was bad. I was getting hit because he was."

"I know that my father was wrong, Carlisle. I know. I just… He was still my father and he's still dead and I still… I know he killed himself because he believed there was no other way to find peace for himself… Sometimes its hard to accept I didn't deserve to get knocked around, but at the end of the day… I get it. It's just easier for everyone else if pretend I don't."

I understood that at a deep, soul crushing level regardless of the way his words twisted together ineloquently.

I thought of my father then, all of those raids he led, and all of the ways I thought he was wrong to accuse innocents. However, he was still my father. I remembered that complexity clearly, and I watched it twisting in the depths of Emmett's eyes.

I'd misread him and again, I was wrong.

I was speechless then, just nodding. He surprised me again and again, taking me aback with his boldness and unmatched clarity when looking deeply into a situation. Emmett was incredibly intuitive and saw things for what they were with a sort of plainness that seemed processed in his mind easily and honestly.

Nothing seemed too complex or too heavy for him. Just as Edward read minds, Emmett seemed to see things unfolding around him just as clearly.

He knew who he was and how he fit into the world around him.

I knew it was because he was self-aware in a way no one I'd ever met had been. His disjointedness after transformation was dissolving, and he was coming back into his own skin, so it was allowing him to process with a rationality that was undeniably clear. He was authentic internally with himself and his own thoughts just as much as he was externally, and this made me aware of his rarity.

In most people there seemed to be a sort of screen or veil between their inner world and their outer world. Emmett didn't seem to possess that filter. He was as clear to me as crystal water in that moment because he allowed himself to share that inner clarity.

"Am I free to go now?" Emmett asked in a sigh, as a child being punished.

I just nodded, absolutely speechless.

He stood then at his full towering, intimidating height and turned on his heel.

"Wait…" I said as he reached for the door knob. "About Rosalie?"

Emmett turned, pausing on the moment.

"Do you trust her?" I asked.

He seemed confused at the arrangement of my words at first, assuming I'd ask if she trusted him. But after all I'd learned about him today, I felt this was a worthy inquiry.

I worried he'd allowed his experience to be isolating or to leave him with heavy armor and deep distrust. He was a kid that had grown up too fast so he held onto childish humor, competitiveness, and games. His forthcoming nature was not naivety; it was protective in that it was a defense mechanism designed to distract people from wanting to see all that he truly had to lose because he didn't want it to be taken. His strength was a compensation for his perception of weakness, hating it in others, but hating it in himself even more. He was afraid... I sensed it in him, deep within him. I'd seen enough in this world to recognize that look in his eyes. He was afraid Rosalie would notice he wasn't invincible. That's how he viewed her. Invincible. And honestly, I wondered if that was what attracted him to her in the first place - not her beauty, but her walls. Her fortresses, her armor. He saw himself in it... He saw the locked doors of her heart and he imagined if she was strong enough to let him in...

Maybe he could be strong enough to let her in too.

But even perceiving all of this, I saw that he nodded.

"I do." The corner of his mouth turned up, revealing a deep dimple in his cheek.