DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.
No warnings this chapter. ;o)
OMG - talk about having major writer's block. I have more chapter sevens saved to my harddrive then I have chapters in this story and I love writing Carlisle so have no idea what the heck my problem was.
Carlisle's POV
His eyes were always on me, following my every move. He watched me closely, absorbing everything I did, looking for my tics and twitches and habitual unconscious movements that defined my humanity or what was left of it. He was an observant one, this green eyed child and when I fell under his scrutiny I was compelled to reexamine my mannerisms, self consciously containing the supernatural flow of my movements, lest I give something away.
When I warned the family to be cognizant of their actions around him, Esme said I was paranoid, the boys snorted in laughter, Rosalie rolled her eyes and Alice…Alice only smiled. She felt it too. The boy had a gift, a special talent for reading people, deciphering thoughts and adapting his behavior to his surroundings. He was protecting himself in the only way that he knew how and it had nothing to do with us not being human, though his observant nature could be dangerous. He would notice things that others might not.
He recognized me as the authority figure in the house and constantly tried to please me, anticipate my expectations of him and contemplate how he could remain inconspicuous in my presence. He was almost obsessive in his need to remain attentive and on guard at all times, no doubt a symptom of his time in the foster care system and the abuse suffered at the hands of his caregivers. His reserved demeanor created an odd melancholy in me because without acknowledging it to my family, I desperately wanted to parent the child
It was a spontaneous decision to bring him home when his social worker suggested it to me and one I wouldn't have agreed to if I wasn't already familiar with the child through the startling accounts of my wife and daughters' encounters with him. The temporary living arrangement was bad enough but not something I could realistically argue against because it made sense. I could treat the boy for his injuries and provide him a temporary living arrangement, but that was where it should have ended.
I could have blamed Esme and Rosalie. They were not inclined to give the child back once a foster home was found for him, despite my repeated insistent that we couldn't keep him. But I found that with each passing day spent in his company, my fondness for him grew and after a few short weeks I didn't bother to refute the affection I felt for him. So yielding to the pleas of my family, I made the call to his social worker to suggest a more permanent solution.
His inclusion into our family was unanimously accepted by all of us. Having a human scent so concentrated in the confines of our home, our sanctity away from human interaction was a heavy burden for the entire family to bear. For me, it was inconsequential; I was use to it and barely gave the scent a second thought, but on the other end of the spectrum was Jasper who had always struggled with the thirst, continued to struggle with the thirst and had almost allowed it to take hold of him on that fateful night in the woods. Everyone else had varying degrees of tolerance for it, but no one complained or offered a compelling argument, why we should not involve ourselves in this boy's life any more than we already had.
From Esme and Rosalie's first encounter with the boy they insisted he was special and their attachment to him had been startling given the insignificant amount of time they spent with him. Despite my assertion that they leave the child to his fate, they had repeatedly gone back to the area near the reservation and kept a watchful eye on the boy after he returned to the woods night after night, undoubtedly searching for the strange pale women that his human instincts should have warned him to avoid. It was heartbreaking for Esme to remain indifferent to his suffering when it was so completely obvious to her that the child was without supervision or a loving home. But humans and vampires didn't mix and though the subject of the child's welfare was hotly debated around our large dining room table, ultimately I had to resort to exerting the influence of a title I seldom coveted, insisting that the child was offlimits and our interference would only put us in danger, especially since the boy resided on the Quileute reservation.
For the first time in all the years of our marriage I felt my wife's disillusionment with my decision and her disenchantment with my neutral attitude left me struggling to understand her reaction to this child, a victim without question, but not something unique in our experience; over the years we'd been exposed to infinite human suffering. But it wasn't just her consternation that I had to bear; Rosalie was unrepentant in her feelings for the human child and much more verbal, lambasting me over my unyielding opinion that we leave the boy alone.
Esme and Rosalie's attitude was not completely surprising. Both had maternal tendencies, to some degree; certainly Esme who had for a brief time experienced motherhood, the death of her child tragically bringing on her own untimely end. Rosalie though not known for her nurturing qualities, had completely abandon her antagonistic attitude when it came to the boy and her behavior was particularly startling given that it transcended the bitterness, anger and contempt she had for our attempts to masquerade as human beings.
But I had a responsibility to protect my family and I would not be swayed by their pleas to involve ourselves further in this boy's life. It wasn't until Alice imparted her vision of Jasper playing catch with a much older bronze haired, green eyed boy that she insisted was crystal clear and likely to happen that I had to reconsidered my steadfast opinion that the child's fate had no bearing on us.
I would never know for sure if that vision was the result of a calculated plan set in motion by Esme and Rosalie to rescue the boy or if it was just me holding out on a decision that was a foregone conclusion. I didn't ask Alice, I didn't want to know, because it didn't matter anymore.
We took Edward in and four months later he was still with us, still healing, still learning to be a child again. But the unexpected consequence of his intrusion into our lives might have been what he did for us, how he changed our lives, how it wasn't so much about him needing us anymore as much as we needed him. It was astounding really. I thought I understood everything about our species and how it was possible to exist and thrive through the decades as long as we adapted to the changes that occurred with the passage of time and never shut the door on the ability to take something away from each year, each decade, each century by stubbornly hanging onto the past.
It could be an unbearable lonely existence; the days excruciatingly slow, the years filled with emptiness, everything we clung to that might be familiar disappearing with the passing years. The humans involved in lives that we could no longer relate too, the change of fashions, the technological advancement the moral progression and still time was there ticking away. I barely managed to hang onto my sanity during the centuries that I spent alone and many more vampires would lose all the humanity they ever possessed, turning into nothing more than feral animals. But after finding my mate and adding additional members to my family, I came to the realization that an eternal life should be embraced and recognized for the gift it was.
And so I was satisfied with the life, I carved out for myself, but I didn't know the meaning of the word. Not until now. It was his humanity that drew us in. Deep down we all wanted it, desired it; a mortal life. He was the closest we would come to one and so we sucked in his essence daily, holding vigil over the fragile being, nurturing him like he was a delicate flower and slowly, very slowly he began to respond to us, validating that we still held onto some part of our humanity, that our attempts to replicate human beings wasn't a complete sham afterall.
I flipped through the pages of a rather tiresome book suggested by the hospital administer absent mindedly, having read through it once already. The small hospital I'd only been employed at for ten months had approached me about adding some administrative duties on top of my responsibilities as a medical doctor. I was considering it. Port Angeles wasn't a hotbed for medical emergencies in the late evening and early morning hours of my shift and given my startling skills as a physician noted by my colleagues, I could sense their desire to keep me occupied and challenged in the small hospital so I wouldn't abandon them for greener pastures.
I couldn't very well tell them that they had me for as long as ten years provided everything went according to plan and we weren't force to move because of some unforeseen accident or inadvertent exposure to a curious human. I had already implied that I would accept additional duties provided I could remain on the evening rotation, something I blamed on my wife's work schedule and a desire to be home with my adopted teenage children during the day…my teenage children and one elementary school foster son.
Pausing, my eyes flickered up to the boy too quickly for him to notice. He was sitting across from me looking lost in the big leather recliner, his lap cradling one of Jasper's American history books, that undoubtedly was above his reading level, but finding the illustrations enthralling. His fascination with the subject had created an immediate and unexpected bond between him and Jasper, surprising given their shaky beginnings.
But Edward wasn't even pretending to read the book now. I saw with each turn of the page I made, he would imitate it and as I stopped and read something of interest, he would lean over his own book and appear to study it intently, resuming turning the page a moment after I did. I touched my chin thoughtfully and felt my lips twitch in a smile when I saw him do the same; discreetly he was studying me just as I studied him. I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed and was rewarded seconds later with a similar action by him and a little expulsion of air. His hair had a mind of its own and despite Esme and Rosalie's best efforts to tame it; it usually stuck out in several places. Now it was almost standing straight on end; he definitely needed a haircut.
I turned the page. He turned the page.
I tapped my brow. He tapped his brow.
I coughed. He coughed.
I cocked my head hearing the sounds of Rosalie's BMW purring down the road several miles from our house. Edward cocked his head, listening but for what he didn't know.
I looked at him. He stared back, his green eyes probing mine. Sometimes I felt this child could see through to my soul.
"The kids will be home soon." I referred to them as kids for Edward's benefit; he didn't completely buy that they were my adopted children. Amazing how a seven year's insight could put me on edge.
Edward nodded and pointed to the clock on my desk. "It's almost five o clock."
"Are you feeling better?"
"Much better," he said enthusiastically, but when he nodded his head, he grimaced. "But my head still hurts a little."
I frowned in concern. It was the appropriate response to his revelation and one that he would expect. "We'll have to give you another pill for the pain in an hour or two."
"Okay, well I think I can wait until bedtime."
I nodded gravely. "Yes that would probably be best but you let me know if the pain gets too bad."
"I will." He closed the book and slid from the chair. "I'm going to go wait for Alice on the porch."
"Okay, but don't exert yourself, you know you should be resting."
"Will I be exerting myself if I try on the clothes she bought me?"
I suppressed a smile both at his comment and Esme's soft titter from the garden. "I think that depends on how many clothes she bought you."
"Probably a lot," he said solemnly.
He was the latest victim of Alice's exorbitant shopping habits and had suffered through several of her wardrobe makeovers over the last few months.
"Well than you have a good excuse. Just tell Alice that I said you can't try on too many clothes because you need to rest."
"Carlisle, really." Esme said too softly for Edward to hear, the laughter clearly in her voice.
"I'll tell her," Edward replied in all seriousness and headed off to wait on the porch.
Within moments my wife was at my side, her forehead furrowed in a frown, but her eyes danced with amusement.
"You should be ashamed of yourself," she said wrapping her arms around my neck. "Giving him permission to lie."
"Ahh, but in his mind he's not lying, he's telling the complete truth." I meant to sound lighthearted, but I felt Esme stiffen against me.
"That's the seventh day of school he's missed with this illness. How long are we going to put up with it?" She sat down in the chair vacated by Edward and raked her fingers through her beautiful mane of hair.
"It's just a symptom sweetheart. He'll eventually stop complaining about his head, but it's going to take time."
There was nothing wrong with Edward. His headaches were his means of avoiding certain situations that he found unpleasant and I pandered to it on the advice of my colleague, a pediatrician at the hospital. It also gave Edward an inlet for communicating with me. He saw me as the doctor and he as my patient, so he felt comfortable opening himself up to me in that capacity much more so than in the role of father figure and foster son. It was a lonely relationship. I wanted to be much more to him but for now, what we had was all I could expect.
"What happens if he really does get sick? We'll just think he's fabricating it and it will go untreated. That would be horrible."
I smiled at my wife. Her worries over our human charge though not unfounded when compared to the indestructibility of her immortal vampire children, did go beyond what could be expected for a first time parent and she retained little of her own human memories so she had nothing to guide her.
"Trust me, darling. I will know if the boy is truly sick. I do have some experience in treating sick humans, believe it or not." I smirked and ducked as magazine she was holding sailed over my head.
"Now I see where Rosalie gets it from. I'm just glad she isn't here right now. You aren't setting the best example for her, sweetheart."
"Humph. I learned that from her," Esme said hotly, her eyes twinkling. "I'm off to start dinner, is there anything specific you want to eat tonight?"
"Deer, bear, mountain lion...any of those sound good,"
"How about chicken?"
I chuckled; she giggled and after retrieving her magazine and thumping me on the head with it, she went to start preparations for the meal that would have only one dinner guest.
"Edward why don't you come upstairs and try the clothes on in my room? I'll return whatever you don't like."
"You pick for me."
"Is Emmett telling you to say that?"
"No, Emmett's outside."
"Well then come up here. I won't bite."
"I'm not allowed too."
"You're not allowed to? What do you mean?"
"I'm not allowed to go upstairs; only Esme's office, the library, the kitchen and the living room."
"Who told you that, sweetheart?"
"No one told me, I just know."
I'd been half listening to the conversation between Alice and Edward since the girls arrived home from their shopping trip, but upon hearing Edward's comments I was out of my office and down the hall nearly colliding with Esme as she came in from her flower beds, quickly removing her soiled gloves.
She had heard the same conversation as I, her perplexed expression mirroring my own. We found Edward at the foot of the stairs leading up to the second floor. Alice had come from her room and was about to descend the stairs herself when she saw us and instead sat down on the top step.
When Edward saw us converge on him, he cringed and touched his head. An automatic response to a stressful situation and I immediately fell into the role of doctor as he anticipated I would which made him feel safe and kept our relationship strictly professional.
"Does your head hurt son," I recited automatically.
He nodded, then winced for emphasis.
I'll get you a pill for the pain in a minute," I said squatting down and doing a preliminary exam of his head which just involved running my fingers through his hair to comfort him. I had a bottle full of placebos, chewable candy. One or two of those and the pain would magically disappear within an hour.
"Who told you, you can't go upstairs, sweetie," Esme sat on the floor next to me cross legged and held out her hands for Edward who after hesitating only a moment crawled into her lap.
We kept the house cool to disguise our body temperature from our human charge and he only shuddered a little when Esme's arms encircled him. I was cognizant of the pained expression that crossed her face, but she didn't let it distract her.
"It's alright you can tell us; you won't get into trouble and neither will whoever told you that." I said, lightly.
"I…umm…no one told me, but I know there are some rooms foster kids can go in and some rooms they can't," he muttered.
"Well not in this house. In this house you can go in any room you want because you're as much a part of this family as anyone else." Esme cast me a warning glance as if I would dispute her on that topic in front of the boy and kissed the top of his head. "The only time you can't go in someone's room is if they have the door closed and then all you have to do is knock first to make sure it's alright, does that sound fair?"
Edward nodded and sighed. I saw his fingers clench Esme's arm. If she'd been human it might have been painful and he was undoubtedly bewildered by his inability to manipulate the flesh at all. Not something I needed to concern myself with now, but in a few years…
"Can I go on the roof?" Edward suddenly asked brightly, pulling back from her embrace so he could see Esme's face.
"The roof? Why on earth would you want to go on the roof?" Esme said bewildered.
"Emmett goes on the roof. How does he get up there? Does he climb out the window? Can I climb out the window too?"
My mate cast me a contemptuous glance that suggested I have a chat with Emmett, but smiled lovingly at the child in her arms. "When I said you can go anywhere, I meant anywhere safe; there will be no going out on the roof or climbing out of windows for you, young man."
Her attempts to scold were met by an innocent grin from the boy in her arms, who abruptly jumped up completely forgetting about his headache. His attention turned to Alice who still sat at the top of the stairs.
"Alice did you buy me a jersey?"
"I did. Do you want to come up and try it on? It might be too big."
"Okay. But it won't be too big." He responded seriously and started slowly up the stairs.
"Dinner will be ready in an hour, sweetie. You like chicken, right?" Esme's fingers closed around my hand and we both stood watching Edward's face crumple. He hated meal times, hated eating alone. It was when he understood just how different he was from us.
"Chicken's okay, but I'm not very hungry. My head hurts." He had reached the top of the stairs, but his enthusiasm was gone, the jersey forgotten.
"Ahh looks like more for me then; I like chicken," I said quickly, feeling Esme's body quiver as she squelched a giggle.
"You do?" Edward looked back at me wide eyed. "Will you eat with me?"
"Of course I will son; you and me, the only chicken lovers in the joint."
He nodded satisfied; his good humor restored and grasped Alice's hand as they disappeared down the hall.
"Chicken, love, really? Well if I knew I was going to be satisfying your refined tastes I would have found a more complicated recipe." My wife purred against me burying her face in my shirt as the laughter she was suppressing escaped from her lips in a gentle tinkle.
"Taking one for the team, my darling which we may all have to start doing. Our dining habits are really becoming a problem." I kissed her forehead, then as an afterthought sniffed at the air around her. "Is it inappropriate to mention that you smell like chicken and I don't find it very appealing at all?"
"Oh you," she said smacking me on the rear, another spurt of laughter and she was out of my arms and in the kitchen, abruptly opening the stove, sending a spiral of steam and odor through the entire house. I shuddered. I was getting as bad as Emmett.
I followed her into the kitchen and sat at the small kitchen table we had never used before our lives were taken over by one small human child.
"What was that all about Carlisle?" Esme's demeanor had changed to one of worried mother.
"It's hard to say. It could have been a rule in his other foster home or an interpretation of something one of us said, anything might have made him assume there were only certain places in the house he could go and I'm just sorry it took this long for us to notice it. Because now, come to think of it, I've never seen him upstairs and I never gave it a second thought. It's not like we use those rooms for anything except well…" I smiled and winked.
"Carlisle," Esme scolded but the sash of her hips, indicated she was willing. "After dinner and only if you don't taste like chicken."
"Hmmm. Maybe I can get Emmett to sit in for me."
'Absolutely not. You made a commitment to Edward and you're going to disappoint him."
I knew she was serious. The child came first. My wife had evolved into the mother she was always meant to be, a glorious maternal being that I could only marvel at. Her transformation into the role had been effortless yet the changes in her were profound. Though she doted on her adopted vampire children as if they sprung from her own loins, mothering them as much as they would indulge her, they truly were quite capable of taking care of themselves and more than that, they were, for all intents and purposes, indestructible.
With this delicate human child all her instincts, the long buried human ones, manifested themselves in a way that made the women before me almost unrecognizable to me and it excited me beyond measure. To change and transform in the way she had was unthinkable amongst our kind, except in the most extreme of circumstances which almost exclusively involved taking a mate. But we'd been mated for nearly ninety years and though everything about her brought me immeasurable joy and contentment, her metamorphous into this motherly creature, driven to protect this child who truly needed her, had roused in me a long buried yearning to grow and evolve with her.
Still I had concerns and it had nothing to do with the occasional symptoms of Edward's abuse. He was a good boy, a bright boy and I had no doubt that in a nurturing home, he could overcome most of the trauma from his tenuous first years of life and recover from the physical and emotion abuse that was such a huge part of his past. We were vampires. Our humanity only extended so far. A child, especially and observant smart inquisitive child, would notice the differences over time and question them. Worse still he might confide in an outsider without ever realizing the danger he was putting us in.
Alice's visions into his future only extended so far. She saw the young child as he was now, an older child interacting happily with his vampire brothers and what she suspected was a teenage Edward, those visions less defined, the content undecipherable, but nothing more. It was logical that I might feel some foreboding, but Alice could be relied upon to translate what she saw accurately, recognizing that she and she alone had a gift that could protect us well into the future and her bright demeanor and positive forecasts were hard to dispute.
Never mind that Alice's visions were susceptible to the decisions made by the players within them; never mind that we were a house full of vampires and that Jasper had almost attacked that very child; never mind that we had never really been foster parents, the forged documents part of the charade we played as we moved from one city to the next. None of that mattered when I suggested to my wife and daughter that taking custody of this child was a monumental risk to our existence and his.
Esme's calls to dinner interrupted my thoughts and were greeted with the running of footsteps from our young charge and snickers from Jasper and Emmett who were engaged in a wrestling match somewhere in the surrounding woods.
"Do you like my jersey," Edward asked entering the kitchen holding his arms out and spinning around.
The garment hung to his knees and was obviously several sizes too big which surprised me. Alice never made mistakes when picking out appropriate sizes for our family members and her skills carried over to the human child as well.
"It's too big, but they were out of his size and I did promise," Alice said apologetically following him into the kitchen with a frown on her face. "Edward I've ordered the correct size, are you sure you want to keep that one too. It's so long, you might trip over it."
"No, it's perfect, I want to keep this one," Edward ventured a glance at Esme and I, looking for any sign that we might disagree with him. One word from either of us and he would shed the jersey and retreat to his room.
"It's perfect sweetie and you need it for the game this weekend." Esme, as usual said the right thing.
Edward grinned and nodded climbing onto his chair next to me.
The Seattle Seahawk games had become a non threatening form of bonding for the boys and Edward, but initially it had been a source of strife. When the games came on and Jasper and Emmett settled down to watch, Edward would notably disappear even after repeated attempts were made by them to involve him.
Finally he admitted that he didn't want to disturb them or interrupt the final minutes of the game. When I questioned him on it further, he conceded that he didn't watch sports because George didn't like kids around when he watched the game so he didn't think Emmett and Jasper would either. It took much cajoling on their part to convince him that he was welcome into their Sunday afternoon brotherhood and the jersey was a symbol of their acceptance so his attachment to the article of clothing wasn't completely unexpected.
"Why don't you call the boys in so they can see your jersey too," I secretly hoped I could entice Emmett to sit in on chicken duty but Esme's warning glare quickly ended that plan.
"We're on your way," Emmett's deep voice barked from the trees, loud enough for Edward to hear.
It was times like this that I was thankful that Edward was only seven years old. Our idiosyncrasies and enhanced abilities as vampires wouldn't go unnoticed by the boy for long if we didn't work on improving our human facade even in our own house, but so far I'd felt no resentment from the family. We all adored the child.
Edward barely had time to settle himself into his chair, when the boys burst into the kitchen via the unconventional entrance from a tree through the sliding window. Their boisterous roughhousing didn't end as they entered the kitchen and they moved around each other in a blur. For Edward's part, he was looking at me, agitated over the warning look on my face, wondering if it was directed at him.
A loud snarl filled the room and immediately the boys stopped their juvenile antics and looked around frantically for the danger that Esme's growl eluded too. I was too stunned to respond having seen the target of my wife's aggressive reaction and the look of horror on her face as she looked at each of us covering her mouth with her hand.
She was snarling at Jasper and Emmett, who looked rather sheepishly at each other than at her. Edward started to giggle, cupping a hand over his own mouth, assuming it was some kind of game.
"Oh my, I'm so sorry. I don't know what that was about," she whispered, turning back to the stove, the ghastly smell of cooked chicken filling the room as she pulled it from the oven.
"Ahh, how easily we are replaced," Emmett gaffed. "Edward, I think you're Esme's favorite now."
"I'm not," but Edward looked very pleased by the idea and giggled again.
I, on the other hand was still shocked by my wife's warning growl directed at her rambunctious sons. She was trying to protect Edward from a perceived danger that the boys' unruly behavior presented and reacted instinctively to the threat. Incredible.
"Not a word," she said without looking at me placing a plate with an exceptionally large piece of chicken and pile of smashed potatoes in front of me and another in front of Edward.
My fascination over her reaction almost made me forget the human food that I forced down in tiny bites ignoring the inquires about the taste and encouragement to try a second helping from Emmett and Jasper and trying to look like I enjoyed it as my gaze caught Edward's time and again. He ate slowly, absorbed in watching me and my reaction to the food. We did not attempt to mimic a human's eating habits often and I could tell he was captivated. Even now he knew there was something different about us and this worried me. It almost made me forget that Esme had been willing to attack her vampire sons to protect her human charge.
Night time was the hardest for him.
If was hard for us too.
With me gone at the hospital six out of seven nights of the week and the family forced to hunt, including the extended trips to areas where the wildlife was more prevalent; we were forced to juggle our routine to care for the child who couldn't be left alone and subsisted on a routine sleep schedule that was all too often plagued with nightmares and insomnia.
Esme or Rosalie would sit with him through the night if their thirst allowed it, utterly mesmerized with the sleeping child and always near to comfort him when he would awaken screaming in terror from the nightmares that he claimed to not remember. I was reluctant to give him any type of sleep aid and only used Jasper's gift sparingly recognizing it for the addition it could quickly become, but when he struggled to fall asleep night after night despite repeated attempts to comfort him, I had to consider another option . His sleepless nights were affecting his concentration at school and I conceded that a child psychologist might need to be consulted to help him deal with his anxiety.
But as time went on the nightmares gradually receded and Rosalie and Esme relaxed their constant vigil over his bedside, still mindful of the nights he would awaken and slip from his bed to stare out the window, attempting to catch glimpses of us disappearing into the night and endlessly curious about what drew us from the house when most people were asleep in their beds; his fascination with our forays into the surrounding wilderness becoming troublesome in light of our lifestyle.
School was another routine that had taken over much of our lives. My vampire children were quite capable of getting themselves off to school every day or at least frequently enough not to draw admonishments from the school officials, but Edward was another story.
He had to be awakened, often reluctantly, fed and either driven or bused to school. Because high school started much earlier than elementary school, the responsibility of readying Edward for the upcoming school day fell primarily on Esme with some assistance from me.
Feeding Edward was always a challenge, both because of his reluctance to eat when the rest of us did not join him and Esme's unfamiliarity with the eating habits of human children. I counseled her as best I could; my time with humans and my medical knowledge had made me more than proficient in the whens, whys and hows of the feeding practices of my human patients, but it was the whats that I had some trouble with.
I never paid much attention to the disgusting smelling glob provided to my patients every day in the hospital and judging by their reaction to it, my opinion of their food wasn't far off base. My rather informal education on what humans ate was not helping Esme as she consulted cook books and watched cooking shows on TV. She was more than capable of preparing a meal for Edward, but was confused when he would stare at the plate piled high with all the primary food groups, not understanding what exactly it was that she was feeding him.
He always ate it and never complained even if his face gave away his distaste for the food he was putting in his mouth and that would send Esme into a panic as she tried to understand what she did wrong. When I tried to convince her that humans had taste preferences similar to our desire for the blood of different species of animals, she quickly dismissed my comments; the egg incident always a reminder that my own knowledge of the human diet was shaky at best.
In my defense, I could hardly be blamed for my lack of specifics when telling her that humans liked chicken eggs for breakfast without elaborating that the eggs needed to be cracked open and cooked or at the very least boiled in water still in the shell. Esme's assumption that chicken eggs were an important part of the diet and a quick simple meal for breakfast, didn't think twice about serving Edward a plate of raw eggs still in the shell, then chastising me when he refused to eat them whole, shell and all. It was the only time he declined to eat a meal and after initially appearing terrified that he might be punished for it, we were able to turn it into a joke; a commentary on Esme's poor cooking skills. Using that incident as validation that Esme needed help in the kitchen, Edward started to assist her in planning his meals, educating her on the human diet without understanding why she wouldn't already know.
With Alice's forecast to guide us, we would drive Edward to and from school on cloudy days and let him ride the school bus when the sun promised to make an appearance. Though our vehicles were equipped with tinted windows we couldn't take the chance of a random teacher tapping on our window wanting to chat about our foster son while we waited for Edward outside the school.
He didn't seem to mind the variation in the routine, assuring us that the bus ride was much shorter than it had been when he was bused to and from the reservation every day and we were always there to pick him up, the rumbling old school bus announcing its presence long before it stopped at the end of our driveway.
The question of whether Edward would attend school had been debated. Initially we thought to home school him to minimize the possibility that some of our more unusual eccentricities might leak out. Our secluded life style brought with it enough questions and rumors and it was imprudent to provide fuel to those that speculated on the antics of peculiar neighbors, but I was advised by my colleague that isolation from other children was not in his best interest and I didn't need a curious social worker showing up unannounced to check in on him. Keeping Edward in the public eye answered more questions than it created and it gave him the social freedom to interact with his peers
Edward was a good student despite his traumatic upbringing. He was highly intelligent and embraced all aspects of his school work, finding kinship in the academic attitude prevalent in our home. Unlike many victims of abuse, he did not act out in school, his need to please extending beyond the reaches of our household to that of his teachers as well. His passivity and docile demeanor left him open to bullying by his peers, but I was always mindful of any reluctance on Edward's part to attend school usually manifesting into phantom headaches that could not be cured with a placebo candy; so any issues at school were quickly addressed.
Edward's headaches were one of the few symptoms of his past abuse and he wielded it like a sword. Anytime he felt pressure or stress or the desire to isolate himself, he would invariable revert to pressing his hand to his head and squinting his eyes, the first sign of the persistent but nonexistent headache.
Surprisingly he never developed headaches when I was not around so my assumption was that it was his way of relating to me, feigning a sickness or injury so I could play my role as the doctor, enabling us to interact though hardly in the way I envisioned.
He did the same with others in the family, but using different techniques. With Rosalie, he was helpless allowing himself to be coddled, insisting he couldn't do things for himself when he clearly could, pandering to her desire to lavish attention on the child as if he were her own.
He indulged Alice by standing patiently as she plied him with clothing, trying on outfit after outfit showing equal amounts of enthusiasm for each one. With Jasper, who he'd grown comfortable with during the day but at night in the throes of a nightmare would awaken and inevitably ask where Jasper was, he would listen riveted as Jasper read his history books out loud, particularly ones on military strategy though that was less of an indulgence and more of a passionate interest that they both shared.
It was only with Esme and Emmett that he truly expressed himself and only after analyzing whether they would want to hear what he had to say. His close relationship with Esme didn't surprise me, she was meant to be a mother and she doted on the boy and him on her. He'd given up trying to determine what would please her by discovering that anything he did pleased her. Perhaps his only discretionary habit was to remain upbeat and talkative in her presence hiding any sign of fear or pain if he thought it might upset her.
His attachment to Emmett defied the imagination. Emmett's size alone could be enough to intimidate the burliest men and more than one nomadic vampire promptly disappeared from our territory when Emmett was the first to confront him, but Edward seemed amused by him and quickly took to following after him, hardly able to keep up even when Emmett moved at his most sluggish human pace.
But Emmett would often forget that the boy trailing him was human and thought nothing of jumping from a second story window or quickly climbing up a tree balancing on the narrowest of tree branches forgetting that his young shadow would mimic him in some capacity. Generally where Emmett went and Edward followed, Rosalie wouldn't be far behind, catching Edward as he jumped from trees or tried to wade into the especially deep fast moving river that Emmett effortless scaled. The child's attempt to imitate Emmett was dangerous and even life threatening but his interaction with him was completely real and even I was jealous of it.
In an effort to initiate more of a relationship with the child, one that went beyond that of an authoritative figure and perhaps something closer to caregiver, I insisted on taking my turn in his basic care, much to Esme's pleasure who took it as a sign that I was finally relenting in my stubborn stance that he was only with us temporarily until a better option could be found for him.
She was right, of course. I wanted this boy in my life more than I cared to admit to myself or anyone else.
It wasn't that I had any reservations that my family would find out that I was capable of having feelings for Edward that extended beyond the professional façade I usually hid behind; but if I were honest with myself, I was afraid. Afraid of the warm feeling of pride that would migrate through my chest when Edward succeeded in something, concern when he was in pain, anxiety when I felt I couldn't comfort him and something else, something that filled me with anguish whenever I thought of losing him. And on top of all those emotions was that shadow that threatened to darken the skies of the idyllic life that had unexpectedly enveloped us in this little town. There was fear and it gnawed at me and not only because it was becoming more pronounced as my feelings for the child grew. I feared for his safety and I feared for the welfare of my family.
So many things could go wrong.
Author Notes:
I did not explore what happened to George and Karen because it wasn't relevant to the story, but rest assured they did face legal consequences for their actions. For those that were hoping for more, I couldn't conceive a situation where Carlisle would approve a violent confrontation and though Rosalie certainly might have gotten some revenge, the Cullens don't need the aggravation right now.
Is anyone annoyed with Carlisle for refusing to help Edward sooner? I could not realistically expect him to interfere with a situation that would have been all too prevalent in his experiences as a doctor. How many times has Carlisle seen young children suffer through abuse, neglect and poverty. Much more than we can imagine so I didn't envision him immediately embracing the idea of getting involved in Edward life.
I also lopped off about 2000 words of this chapter that related to the coming Christmas Holiday. If you did the math you would know that it's mid December. Sorry but I just can't write The Cullen's Family Christmas, it would just be a little too sweetfor my taste. Edward will refer back to it in upcoming chapters because he gets to see Bella who visits for the Christmas Holiday.
I have a couple of more chapters to go with Edward as a seven year old, then I'll jump back to one chapter with seventeen year old Edward, then the story will start to move a little faster, covering more years of Edward's life and highlighting significant periods in his life.
Reviews? I'm even asking for bad reviews. Was it confusing. Too wordy? I sort of hate this chapter. Private comments work too. :o)