Chapter 4: Carlisle

I hadn't intended to join the boys in their little 'support group', but Alice came to me and told me I should.

I had known, even as I left to 'speak' to Edward, that Jasper was still not 'all right' and it did bother me, but I wasn't sure how to handle it.

Jasper is very different from his brothers. He's older, for one thing, but he's also had it harder.

In a lot of ways, he's always regarded me as his 'superior' rather than his 'father' and I have to admit it's bothered me at times.

I never said anything, because I did not wish him to withdraw any further away from us.

It has taken us nearly fifty years just to get him to feel comfortable with us, but now I believe he has finally come to regard us as his family rather than just as his 'coven'.

Alice came to me a little while ago, after she had gotten Edward and Emmett, and informed me I needed to share my own experiences with Jasper; to let him know he wasn't alone in his feeling of uneasiness.

I knew she was right, and so I came upstairs to be with my sons.

I waited at the door for a while though, simply listening and remembering as first Edward and then Emmett recounted for him the first time I spanked them.

I know, it isn't right to eavesdrop and had it been one of them I'd have scolded them for it, but I couldn't help it…if it's any consolation, Esme would scold me for it later, I'm sure.

They needed that time together, without my presence, and so I gave it to them while at the same time being apart of it myself.

I remembered those times very well.

Like the boys, they weren't exactly fond memories, but they still held a special place in my un-beating heart.

Once they were finished with their recounting, I joined them.

"As you all know," I said, sitting down in the floor, crosses legged, "my father wasn't exactly a 'touchy-feely' sort of man, and he was very strict."

"No kidding," Emmett said, rolling his eyes. Jasper and Edward chuckled, as well.

I smiled. "Now I know it's hard to believe it," I told them, "but like most teenagers I did have a rebellious side."

"It was the Dark Ages," Emmett said, "what was there to rebel against?"

I clapped him on the head again, a little harder than before.

"The 1600's weren't the Dark Ages," I informed him. "It was, however, I very superstitious time…"

England, Middle 1600s

Carlisle Cullen didn't want to go on this hunt.

In fact, it was the last thing in the world he wanted to do.

"Papa," he said to his father, as he was packing his saddle bags, "must we go on this hunt?"

Reverend Cullen turned his stern gaze upon his son.

"This hunt is ordained by God, my son," he said, firmly. "To not go would be to disobey Him."

Carlisle sighed. He sometimes wondered if it really was the Lord's will or his father's that 'ordained' these hunts.

So…one argument had failed him, but perhaps another one would succeed.

"Then perhaps I should remain behind," he suggested, hopefully. "The church will need watching in your absence."

Reverend Cullen narrowed his eyes.

"It is you who need the watching, my son," he growled at him, "not the church. I have seen the way you look at those harlots that flaunt themselves at the tavern. Besides that, you will be required to carry on my work once I have gone on to be with the Lord. You are almost a man, Carlisle, so you must now learn a man's responsibilities."

Carlisle sighed. "What if I do not want a man's responsibilities?" he mumbled, sullenly.

"What was that?" his father asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Carlisle winced. Had he spoken that too loudly?

"It seems, my son," the Reverend said, "you have allowed Satan to twist your tongue towards disrespect."

Carlisle shook his head, quickly. "No, Papa," he said, "I meant no disrespect."

"But you did, my son," the Reverend said, and then pointed to the shed off to the side of the church.

"Get you there now, my son, so that I may 'purge' you of the Serpent's ways."

His tone of voice brooked no argument, and Carlisle knew it was futile to disobey.

It would only be much worse for him if he did.

He headed for the woodshed, with his father close on his heels.

Opening the door, the Reverend removed a large leather strap hanging there.

"In, my son," he ordered sternly. "You know what is required of you for this."

Unfortunately, Carlisle knew all too well.

Entering the woodshed, he undid the fastenings of his breeches and lowered them.

He then bent forward, placing his hands—palms flat—against the wall of the 'shed.

"Honor thy Father," the Reverend spoke, as he placed a firm hand on his son's back.

"Yes, Papa," Carlisle answered automatically. "It is one of the Lord's Commandments."

"A Commandment you broke this day," the Reverend replied, raising the strap and bringing it down hard across his son's bared backside.

Carlisle hissed as the strap descended, but did not dare cry out.

Again and again that heavy strap fell, and he bit his tongue harder.

Tears filled his eyes, but he did not dare let them fall.

He was almost a man, as his father had said, and he would be expected to take this punishment as a man.

'Only women and children cry, my son' his father's stern voice echoed in his mind.

As the strap landed on the sensitive part of his posterior where his buttocks and thigh met, he could not take any more.

"I-I am sorry, Papa," he gasped out, digging his fingers into the wood of the 'shed. "It will not happen again."

"Aye, my son," the Reverend replied. "It won't." He continued bringing the strap down.

Just when Carlisle thought the skin on his backside had been beaten off and he was certain he was about to collapse, his father stopped.

"Straighten yourself, my son," the Reverend replied, replacing the strap back on its hook.

Carlisle obeyed. His backside was numb, the pain a dull ache he knew from past experience would be greater come nightfall.

He would have to sleep on his stomach for several days to come.

"Come, my son," the Reverend said, not bothering a comforting hand or word, "we have many miles to travel before we may stop for the night. We must be underway for the hunt."

Carlisle winced as he pulled his breeches back up.

He did not relish those long hours in the saddle…but he did not dare disobey.

"Yes, Papa," he said, quietly. "I'm coming…"

"And so," I finished, "I got onto my horse and followed him. The hunt, incidentally, was for a suspected witch that turned out to be an innocent fifteen year old girl—my father had her burned because her eyes were two different colors."

My boys stared at me, their eyes wide with shock.

"That was harsh," Edward spoke.

"Way," Emmett agreed.

I shrugged. "It was simply the way he was," I said. "It wasn't right, of course, but there was no changing him."

"My father was bit like that," Jasper spoke up, surprising me. He very rarely discussed his past.

"He wasn't a preacher," he said, grinning lopsidedly, "but when he was riled he knew how to take it out of your hide."

I looked at him, concerned. "I didn't bring back any bad memories, I hope?" I asked, fearfully.

He grinned. "Carlisle," he said, "my pa would have strapped my bare ass and legs until they bled—all you did was spank my behind and even then I still had my jeans on."

"Oh," I said, grinning, "you're saying I was too easy on you, huh?"

Emmett burst out laughing. He slapped me on the back. "Good one, Pops," he chuckled.

Edward rolled his eyes, and Jasper smiled.

"Not at all," he told me. "You gave me what I deserved, nothing more and nothing less. It showed you cared, that's all."

I sighed, relieved. I stood up.

"I suppose I'll just leave you boys alone to talk," I said, smirking, "without the 'old man' to hear you."

"Yeah," Emmett agreed, "wouldn't want you to hear all the curses we reign down on your head, huh?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Just remember I can reign smacks down upon your behind just as easily," I told him, grinning.

He grinned. "Trust me," he said, "I don't think any of us are likely to forget that."

I chuckled. "No, I guess not," I said. "Good night, boys. I love you all." I started out of the door.

"Carlisle?" Jasper's quiet voice stopped me and I turned back around.

"Yes, son?" I asked, turning back around.

He looked a bit sheepish. "Would it be all right," he asked, shyly, "if—maybe—I called you 'Dad'?"

I smiled. "Nothing would make me happier," I told him, allowing him to feel my sincerity.

He nodded, and I left to join Esme in our bedroom.

At that moment, I was probably the happiest vampire in the world.

T—W—I—L—I—G—H—T—W—I—L—G—H—T—W—I—L—I—G—H—T