DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.

WARNING: This is an angsty chapter. I should also mention for anyone with disabilities, please understand that the opinions expressed in this chapter are not mine, but that of fictional characters and be forewarned that their views are not inspirational.

You'll get some answers to your questions in this chapter but unfortunately you will probably have new questions.

Just a reminder we are flashing forward again. Edward is on a ventilator so that makes speaking difficult for him and I'm sorry he is not pausing naturally with the flow of the sentence, but when he runs out of air, he runs out of air and he has to wait for the ventilator to catch up.

"He's an old colleague of mine and I asked him. Medicaid will pay the standard physician costs and he is paying his own expenses. You are doing it as much for him as he is for you. Surgeries such as this are quite rare. Most patients don't live…well…we seldom get to the point of performing surgery on patients with a C1-C2 fracture. Any doctor would appreciate the opportunity to get more experience in surgery especially when it's so rare, but I don't want you to think this is some kind of experimental surgery. He is the best there is, that's why he's coming. It's my job to make sure that you get the best care possible and stepping aside for him is my way of doing that.

I thought about telling Doctor Carthage that it would be a-okay with me if he did the surgery himself. Given the alternative, dying on the operating table seemed like a good opportunity to escape from this nightmare, but the decision had been made; I could see it in his face and the faces of my team. Besides, the surgery would be performed by the most experienced doctor available and still my odds would only be fifty-fifty. There was always hope.

Edward's POV

Shock wasn't a strong enough word to describe the look on his face as he walked into the pre-op followed by Doctor Carthage

Anguish.

Despondency.

Horror.

None of those words quite conveyed the expression frozen on his flawless features either; or perhaps they conveyed it only too well as it was the first words that registered with me when my eyes locked with his for only a moment before I closed mine, reluctant to be drawn into their depths, knowing only too well that he would see the extent of my torment and unwilling to show any weakness in light of my fragile physical condition.

I should have been deviously overjoyed that he could see me as I was now, lying helpless in that hospital bed kept alive only by machines, my body nothing more than a receptacle for the blood that continued to flow through my veins feeding life into the organs that barely sustained my body. But perhaps overjoyed was too much to ask for, perhaps I could suffice with a feeling of satisfaction that, through no conscious effort on my part, I'd rebelled against all they had hoped for me, my future now destroyed, my life for all intents and purposes over; their abandonment in hindsight, was all for not.

But no matter how I might wish it to be something other than what it was, the only emotion that I was cognizant of in those first few seconds when my eyes locked with Carlisle's was despair and a tremendous almost overwhelming wave of grief.

Carlisle was the surgeon that Doctor Carthage had touted as my potential savior. I needed no one to tell me that. He was dressed in scrubs, undoubtedly the chart he held in his hand was mine. I'd already been administered a sedative and where briefly I felt it's effects and welcomed the chance to drift away, trying not to reflect that I might be facing the last hours of my life; a rush of adrenalin suddenly shot through my body and my heart raced. It would take a horse tranquilizer to knock me out now.

I opened my eyes again.

Carlisle was no closer. He had stopped abruptly upon entering my room, his hand holding my chart had dropped to his side. For the first time in all the years I'd known Carlisle, I thought he looked old…ancient even. I might have been projecting wrinkles across his face and around his eyes and mouth as I envisioned where they would be, but one only had to look at his eyes and his true age was obvious.

"Dr Cullen, is something wrong?" Doctor Carthage asked confused by Carlisle's disinclination to start the pre-op exam.

Carlisle nodded, then surprised me by replying candidly. "I know him. I know this patient."

"What? Oh shit," Doctor Carthage said interpreting and rightly so, how this would impact the forthcoming surgery. "How well…are we going to need to cancel…?"

"Give me a moment with him, please…a moment alone," Carlisle said hoarsely, stepping forward.

Doctor Carthage reached out and grabbed his arm, but Carlisle didn't take his eyes off of me. He wasn't making eye contact any longer; instead his gaze flickered to the machines that surrounded me, to the shape of my body under the blankets that covered me…several blankets as my body was overcome with a fit of chills, another symptom of my injury, the inability to regulate body temperature. He was transfixed by the scene before him so much so that he barely acknowledged Doctor Carthage's persistent questioning, waving his hand in an offhanded way, indicating he should leave us for a moment of privacy.

"Doctor you can't operate if you're related to him."

Those words did resonate with Carlisle who finally turned toward his colleague providing me only a view of his back. It wasn't hard to construe what Carlisle was doing; the posture of his body was like a leopard ready to spring. Doctor Carthage took a step back, instinctually recognizing Carlisle for the predator he was. A shadow of fear crossed his face.

"I'm not related to him. I know him…he's a friend of my children. Let me assure you Doctor that my relationship with him will in no way jeopardize the surgery today, but I would like to have a chat with him privately to make sure the he is completely informed of his options." Then Carlisle sighed, perhaps understanding he exposed too much. His body slowly relaxed, his posture retained a more human slouch and he reached out and touched the other doctor's elbow. "Surely you understand?"

"Of course Doctor Cullen, just let us know when you are ready," Doctor Carthage said graciously, slipping out the room as quickly as he could.

I closed my eyes again. I only heard Carlisle approach the bed because I was listening for him and then it was just the slight rustle of fabric. His footsteps were silent.

"You scared…him," I said softly, suddenly self conscious of what I could only surmise was my hideous condition, trapped in a hospital bed for several days, helpless as a newborn baby, screws embedded in my skull. I wanted to curl into myself, hide from him. But I couldn't move. I couldn't even change positions. I laid as the nurse had left me, flat on my back, my neck pulled taut by the weight of the traction. "I don't think…you have to…worry about him calling…you again anytime…soon even if you are…one of the best…surgeons in the country. Pity the next guy…that breaks his neck…he won't have…the great Doctor Cullen…"

"Edward stop."

I opened my eyes. I was staring at the top of his bowed head as he leaned over me bracing himself against the bed rail.

"I know it's hard… to believe but I… didn't plan to…jump of that cliff… break my neck and need a surgery… that very few surgeons… in the country could… even perform just to…get you back into…my life. I know it seems…that way but…it was just a…coincidence…honest."

Carlisle usually tolerated my sarcasm, but apparently I caught him at a bad moment because when he looked up abruptly his gaze was so intense I couldn't escape its scrutiny and it had nothing to do with being completely immobilized. Even my eyelids refused to obey my command to close and I couldn't look away as his ochre colored eyes bore into mine.

"How did this…why didn't you have someone contact me? The phone number…I never got a call."

I ignored Carlisle's bewilderment. It was unsettling. "Oh I think…it would take more…than a broken…neck to make…that call. What did I…say before you…left? Something about…a cold day… in hell or hell…freezing over…something…like that. Yeah that hasn't…happened yet, so…not sure why you…would expect a…fucking phone call."

"Edward this is serious. I don't…"

"Serious? Really? Serious?" I tried to sound incredulous but the ventilator was interfering with my ability to impart my smart-assed rhetoric. "What makes…you say…that. This is perfect…fucking wonderful. Simply…fucking…fantastic. I couldn't think…of a better outcome… to my fucked up life… than this. I couldn't have…written a more fitting…ending.

Carlisle held up his hand to deflect the impact of my words, but I was on a roll.

"And the beauty of it…you don't …even have to pay…I can live…the rest…of my life…as short as…that…may be….in a bed…in a fucking…nursing home….and you don't even…have to pay….fucking perfect."

I was fluctuating between bitter resentment and an overwhelming urge to burst into tears, feeling the first telltale prickling behind my eyes threatening to open the floodgate of emotions that I so desperately wanted to keep hidden from him. Still, try as I might, I could not look away, his gaze was mesmerizing; but beyond his penetrating stare I saw the struggle, the conflicting emotions drift across his face as undoubtedly he was taking everything in and quickly absorbing the situation so he could rectify it.

"You knew…I was here?" I said, but it came out as a question. I knew of his enhanced sense of smell, but I was never given privy to the complete extent of his abilities and only surmised what he was capable of.

"I knew you were in the hospital. Beyond that…nothing. They didn't give me your name when I was called in for the surgery," he replied mechanically. "I was worried…your scent was fresh, but I didn't know, would never have imagined…"

"Would you have…tried to find me…find out what…was wrong with me…or would you have…done the surgery…and left without…ever knowing…why I was in…the hospital." I was taunting him but only to avoid the conversation that surely had him dismissing my doctor from the room. I didn't want to hear from his lips how he would not be able to save me. How my injury was so severe that even his superior skills could not keep me from dying beneath his scalpel.

"You don't know how sorry I am that you have to ask that question." Carlisle sighed and broke our gaze once again bowing his head over me in anticipation for what he was about to say.

For my part, I felt guilt and with that came anger. It was he that left me, not the other way around. I had to remind myself of that. Still, his pain was palpable and it was impossible to ignore. He hadn't left me…they hadn't left me because they didn't care…I knew that; I always knew it, but it made it harder for me to hate them so it was something I tried to forget.

"Edward, I..."

"You don't have…to say it. I know. I've been…informed of the risk. I won't blame you…if you decide…to back out. It's…well I don't expect…" my voice quivered. If I cried it would be impossible to talk. "I don't expect…you to do the surgery...I know my odds…aren't good…I wouldn't…put you through…that."

"Edward…Edward..." Carlisle had raised his head and moved closer hovering directly over me…a strange intensity glistened in his eyes. "If there was hope….any hope you'd recover it would be different. The risk…it would be worth taking. But even if the surgery is a success, it won't cure you, you won't walk again. The surgery will only stabilize your spine and neck and perhaps allow you to move your head but the risk…the risk is too much."

It took me a moment to realize Carlisle was gripping my arm. I couldn't feel it, but I saw that his hand no longer held the bedrail and my eyes followed the length of his arm until I saw his hand, there near my shoulder. For the first time in all our years together his arctic touch did not cause any reaction in my body at all. I couldn't feel it, but the visual attempt to connect with me had engrossed me all the same.

When he noticed the direction of my gaze, his momentary faux pas was brought to an immediate end and he released my arm, redirecting his hand to my face, the bone chilling cold from his flesh a familiar and comforting reminder that he really was standing next to me, even if his re-admittance into my life hadn't exactly been his choice.

"I understand…no need to…explain…I understand." I had not been expecting him to concur so quickly with my pronouncement that my condition was hopeless. I thought he would argue and try to convince me that there might be another option. Carlisle was if nothing else, an optimist. His resignation to the futility of my situation was disheartening even if it was something I told myself I wanted. I couldn't do it to him. I couldn't die at his hand. He would blame himself. I knew him too well not to understand that.

"Don't tell Esme. You don't have…to tell her," I whispered.

I thought he might protest that too, but he continued to surprise me. Cocking his head, he gazed at me quizzically.

"Edward, I don't think you understand what I'm getting at."

Now it was my turn to stare back in what I was sure was a puzzled expression. No, I understood perfectly. Carlisle and I were in sync, we always had been. He would leave now, walk out that door forever, perhaps never knowing my fate or whether I ever made it off the operating table and he would tell no one, not even his wife. It was better that way.

"I…the surgery…won't fix me…even if it's…successful." I mumbled.

Carlisle furrowed his brow and nodded.

"So there's no point…for you…to do it…if something goes…wrong. I don't want you…to blame yourself." Was I trying to convince him or myself? Perhaps both of us, but Carlisle surprised me and smiled a little, shaking his head.

"What then….I don't understand."

"Have you forgotten what I am?"

I stared…mystified…waiting for him to illuminate me. The drugs in my system had made me decidedly unperceptive.

"I can heal you…heal you completely."

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, to demand he explain himself, his revelation became clear to me. I did understand, but it wasn't something that immediately occurred to me only because Carlisle had always been so adamantly opposed to ever doing it to another human being again. It was not a viable option, not a solution to a problem, only creating more problems in the long run and it was inherently wrong. Humans were created in the image of God and he, Carlisle was a god-fearing man, not inclined to tamper with God's creations. Yet there he was implying that he was willing to do that very thing. And there was something else. The expression on his face was no longer tormented; it was that of a man at peace with his decision, unapologetic and not the slightest bit remorseful that his convictions would be compromised.

Something in my expression must have alluded to an understanding of his thoughts and though the smile remained loosely on his lips, there was a melancholy that touched his eyes and he nodded.

"It's the only way…the only way I can save you."

Silence.

Only the whooshing of the ventilator and the beeping of the heart monitor resonated with me. Carlisle wasn't pretending to be human anymore. He was frozen in all respects. His chest did not rise and fall, no air passed through his open mouth, no muscle on his face twitched, even his thumb which had been sliding back and forth on my cheek had stopped. I sensed I was in the room with a dangerous predator yet I felt no fear. On the contrary, I was pissed.

"No." My lips felt numb, the word came out more as a puff of air then a single syllable, but Carlisle heard me and he frowned.

"Edward." He paused, closed his eyes and when he reopened them I saw they were black He wasn't hungry, he wasn't angry this was something else and I knew he had already made his decision.

"No." This time I heard myself clearly. I sounded confident. If he couldn't uphold the convictions he clung to so ferociously when it suited him, I would do it for him.

"It's the only way. I'll postpone the surgery and come back later tonight. It will give the others a chance to get back here. We'll take you to Forks…I'll…no…Denali…we'll go to Denali." He paused, his face losing some of the grief that had touched it when he first entered the room and saw me. He was revitalized with his decision, he would save me one way or another and this infuriated me.

"NO!" I had found my voice and apparently spoke loud enough for others outside my room to hear. The door of the room cracked open.

"Is everything alright?" Doctor Carthage asked.

Carlisle nodded but he didn't bother to turn. "A few more minutes please."

I stared beyond Carlisle as the head of Doctor Carthage disappeared and the door slowly closed. I wanted to yell out to him, tell him to come back, warn him about Carlisle, what he was, what he was planning on doing to me, but that momentary feeling of panic, of helplessness in light of the monstrous act that Carlisle was proposing was squelched by a wave of reassurance when my eyes met Carlisle's again.

"Listen to reason Edward. I know it's not ideal, I wouldn't even consider it if I had any other choice, but there is nothing I can do, no other way. If there was some hope, some treatment, some other option, don't you think that I would take that into consideration? But it's hopeless, even if you survive, even if you could find some fulfillment in what will become of your life, it's too dangerous, your injury…it's rare for you to have survived this long. The long term prognosis is not good. There is no other way."

Carlisle wasn't pleading with me exactly; he didn't speak like he was trying to really convince me of anything. He was just stating what his expansive mind had already concluded in the brief moments after he realized I was his patient and it was aggravating the hell out of me.

"So, were you…planning this all…along?" I spat. I couldn't shake my head so I clenched my jaw and he removed his hand.

"Planning what? I just found out Edward. I'm not lying to you about that. I haven't even looked at your chart yet. I didn't know it was you until I walked into this room."

"But why me, why…would you save…me? What if I…had been just…some random guy, someone…you didn't know…would you be offering…them the same option…right now?"

Carlisle frowned. "I think you know the answer to that."

"And why not? What's…so…special about me…what makes me…worthy of receiving… your…your gift…if that's what…you want to call it."

"I think you know the answer to that too."

And I did. Of course I did, but I didn't want to admit it to him because that would invalidate everything I felt over the last six months. Hate was a powerful emotion and I was reluctant to let it go.

"Say it." I was exhausted. I wasn't even sure if I'd spoken aloud, but when Carlisle gripped the sides of my face with both hands, I knew I would have no choice but to hear him voice what I so wanted to deny.

"Because you're my son, because I love you and can't bear to see you like this, can't withhold the one thing that I can do to help you. I can't deny you and I won't."

His words were dripping with the misery that must have been festering over the last six months. He would have to know what I was thinking. If I was his son…if he loved me…then why did he leave me? He had opened himself up for my assault and I wasn't going to let the opportunity pass.

"You say son…like it has some…special meaning…some profound…significance. Well I have…a father and I…am his son and he's…never done…a fucking thing…for me so don't…throw that word…around like it…gives you some kind…of permission to…act a certain way."

Everything in Carlisle's demeanor changed. No longer was he the grief stricken man ready to succumb to my wrath for all the transgressions I'd suffered; he was now my doctor, studying my chart scrupulously, refusing to acknowledge my barbs, professional and indifferent to the outburst from his patient.

I blinked in confusion. A familiar tightening in my abdomen brought me back to another time when I did whatever I could to fit in, to belong, to not rock the boat so they wouldn't send me back. It had been years since I even thought about that, but now I wondered. Had I pushed Carlisle too far?

A nurse walked in…looked at Carlisle…myself…then back at Carlisle before excusing herself and quickly exiting again.

After the brief interruption, Carlisle closed the chart again and waited calmly. When I didn't immediately launch into another tirade, he nodded his head. "You were saying?"

I wanted to clamp my mouth shut and refuse to say another word. Foster kid, Edward would have. He always knew which side his bread was buttered on and acted accordingly. But funny how a person changes when a little love is tossed their way. They begin to think they have some right to an opinion and have no problem expressing it.

And so I continued.

"You're a fucking…hypocrite…the worst kind. You claim to…have values…beliefs and throw…them in my face…when it suits you…but then…then…when it's convenient…when it's all…about you…and your pain…what you can bear…you flush them down…the toilet." I was rambling…sputtering out words as fast as the oxygen sparsely expelled by the ventilator would allow me to. I wanted to form a cohesive argument. I only had to gather the words in a neat little pile, organize them and slowly recite them, but my thoughts were cloudy, my sentiments vague and when I opened my mouth I only spewed verbal garbage. Fucking drugs. I shouldn't have been so quick to discount the effectives of that sedative.

"You misunderstood…I feel no shame…no guilt for what I've done. Esme…Rosalie…Emmett…they would be dead…long buried if I hadn't acted as I did. I don't regret…"

"This isn't about them," I gasped. I felt trapped in my motionless paralyzed body. I wanted to lash out physically, I could almost feel my hands clench at my sides. The urge to hit Carlisle was overwhelming. Even remembering how badly that turned out the last time didn't alleviate the desire.

"No it's not about them, it's about you. I changed each of them for a different reason and don't regret it for one instant, but when I reflect on those reasons and the justification for it, they pale in comparison to my rationalization for changing you. No matter what you believe, I see you as my son. I love you…I had no such feelings for the others…not even..."

"Esme." I bristled; then softer, like my venomous tone might tarnish her in some way. "Esme was…is your mate. You had a…reason."

"…not even Esme." Carlisle finished. When he saw me raise my eyebrows skeptically he continued. "I only met her once before. Though I felt a connection with her at the onset, I couldn't equate that with being her mate. She was only a girl. I'm not denying that my infatuation with her was what likely motivated me to change her, but at the time, I had no way of knowing she would be my mate. Rosalie too…I knew her, she was the daughter of one of my patients; a beautiful girl. When I found her abused so horribly and left to die, I did the only thing that made sense…I was wronging a right and if there hadn't been Rosalie there would have been no Emmett. I can justify in my own mind, why I changed them, but I swore there would be no others and I still hold to that vow. I would never have changed you to keep you from getting older… …from dying of natural causes that comes with being human. That is how I've changed, how my values have changed. But you are a boy. You've hardly lived. You have no real future now…no chance to become the man you were meant to be…I can prevent that from happening.

"No…no…no," I muttered. "This isn't about…me, it's about…you. You can't bear…the thought of losing…me, at least not…like this. I can see the guilt…in your face…you feel fucking…guilty and this is…the way you plan…on setting it right."

"That's not true Edward. It has nothing to do with guilt. Yes perhaps you're right; I can't bear the thought of letting you die knowing that not only can I save you but I can return you to your former self, give you the ability to walk again, give you a life back; but I don't feel guilty about anything concerning you other than, maybe convincing you and letting you believe that we were out of your life for good. It was easier for you to believe that you had no future with us so we never tried to convince you otherwise. We let you believe it and I was determined to let you live your life without the dangers that would inevitably be part of it if you remained with us."

"What about…Bella?"

Carlisle looked uncomfortable. My unexpected question caught him off guard, but he couldn't pretend to not know what I was referring to.

"What about Bella?" I repeated. "What about…what I can bear? You were ready…to let Bella die…all your arguments…your beliefs…all lies. You didn't care…how much I…suffered…because it wasn't…you. This is all…about you."

"Edward, that was a completely different situation."

"Different situation…because you didn't…care about Bella…you never have. You wouldn't save her…not even for me." I felt my eyes flutter and I struggled against the weariness. I couldn't fall asleep. I couldn't stop Carlisle then. Not that I had much hope of stopping him now, at least not physically, but I could make him reconsider, deluge him with guilt.

"No Edward. You know that's not true. We've been over this."

"You're a fraud. Everything you claim…to stand for is…a lie. All your arguments…bullshit."

"You know that Bella's situation wasn't hopeless. She was being treated, she was stable. I'm not God. I can't force my…"

"You aren't God? Who are you…kidding. You play the role…fucking perfectly…deciding who should…live and who should…die. And you're…selfish with your gift...denying the most…deserving because…you don't LOVE them."

As I struggled to keep my eyes open I noticed that Carlisle's irises had turned back to a rich golden color. I had brought him back from that feral place where instincts ruled.

"I never claimed to be perfect and I can't claim to be human but I do the best I can." His voice had grown soft and introspective, like he was talking to himself.

"I don't want to…be like you…like any of you. I'd rather be in…a wheelchair for…the rest of my…fucking life…I'd rather be dead…buried…six feet under…dead…not like you." I was so tired. Carlisle was leaning over me again, his cold hand pressed against my forehead.

"I'm sorry Edward."

"You only want to...change me to avoid…feeling…loss. Selfish."

"I couldn't take the risk with Bella. I explained that then and I feel no differently today."

"You would have if it were me."

Carlisle stared deeply into my eyes. He was debating whether to lie.

"Yes I would have. God help me I would have taken the chance with you."

"Selfish," I said smugly.

"Perhaps. But if it had been you, I would have had to deal with the consequences. I would have had to take action. We would have suffered, but my wife would have forgiven me, my children would have forgiven me."

I blinked. "Are you saying…that I wouldn't…have forgiven you if…things had gone wrong…with Bella?"

"I'm saying exactly that Edward. You aren't one of us, you wouldn't have understood, you still don't."

The argument felt as old as the ages. I was exhausted. I wondered what time it was. The surgery was scheduled to start at eight o'clock a.m. It felt much later than that.

The situation with Bella had been different and I had seen some of the logic behind Carlisle's decision, but that hadn't kept me from hating him at the time. It had changed our relationship. It was the first time in all my years with him that I was distrustful and suspicious of his decision and it hurt him, but he endured it and didn't change his mind.

"And will I…understand if I…become one of you?"

"Probably not."

I snorted. "How convenient for you."

"Why do you resist? Are you really ready to spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair provided you even live through today's surgery?"

"What you want…to do to me…you'll kill me."

"That's different."

"I'll be dead…stone cold dead."

"Only in the human sense, but you gain so much more."

"Yeah the…desire to kill…the thirst for blood…a monster of fucking…storybooks and nightmares."

"Is that how you think of us?" Carlisle asked softly, sadness creased his face.

Images of the only family I had ever truly known permeated my thoughts. Esme…sweet gentle loving Esme; Emmett jovial and good natured; Alice inquisitive and fun; Rosalie…well Rosalie could be a monster but I'd only ever been exposed to her fierce loyalty and protectiveness.

Only Jasper had lived the life of a monster but nothing in his association with me could convince me that he was anything but a tortured man, haunted by a horrific past, suffering for his grievous transgressions. And then there was Carlisle. No human could be more decent, more caring, more compassionate. The Cullens were not monsters, but that didn't mean I wouldn't be. Carlisle was selfish not to consider what I might become, what lives I might take.

"Edward, do you think of us as monsters?" Carlisle repeated, sensing he had made a significant point.

But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"You'll damn…my soul to hell."

I wasn't surprised to see Carlisle flinch. He was sensitive to such accusations. He'd had that argument with Rosalie many times in the past.

"I don't believe that."

"But you have no…way of knowing."

"You'd be immortal. There is no argument to be made whether I would put your soul in jeopardy or not."

"But I could still…die. Your kind…can still die. And then what?"

"I don't believe you will be sacrificing your soul by becoming one of us if that's what you're asking."

"I'm not asking…anything; I'm telling you…that you have no right…to condemn me…to such a fate. You don't know…for sure…you don't know."

"You've never taken that stance before. You've never had any opinion on it or expressed any concern whether you had a soul or not. I don't believe it's something you feel strongly about."

Of course Carlisle would throw my agnostic beliefs back at me when I attempted to use them to thwart him.

"Is it my fault…that you failed to…educate me in issues…pertaining to the…existence and potential…loss of my soul."

Carlisle usually wasn't one for dramatic facial expressions but he rolled his eyes obviously failing to appreciate my theatrics.

"I don't have…a choice then? You'll kill me…anyway?" There was no pleasure in this battle anymore."

"I'm sorry son. I don't understand your argument. It didn't occur to me that you would refuse what I can offer you. Please don't defy me to punish me…to punish us. We had to leave…you know why...there was never any choice."

"If I decide…to stay human, will you…leave me again?" It was a question I hadn't meant to ask and I might have believed I only thought it except Carlisle's hand stopped in mid air just as he was about to run his fingers through his hair, a familiar human trait he resorted to in times of stress. He stared at me expressionless for a moment, then in the briefest of movements that I wouldn't have detected if I had not been studying him closely, he shook his head slightly.

"That danger…that danger has passed for now," Carlisle mumbled.

It occurred to me that if what he was saying was true, they hadn't come back for me even after the danger...code word for the evil vampires from some place in Italy called Volterra...had passed. I didn't have the strength to challenge him on it and didn't want to hear any more of his false promises. They never had any intention of coming back, but in fairness they never promised they would. Why would I expect them to stay now that I would be just some worthless cripple in a wheelchair?

I closed my eyes.

"Edward." Carlisle sighed.

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and flinched when I felt the coldness of his hand against my face again.

"Changing you…it's the only option you have."

You want a perfect son...

The alternative…the risk…it's too great.

...to go with your perfect family.

"I won't lose you."

Too many years invested. Maybe this was your plan all along.

"Please don't try to punish me by destroying yourself."

You don't want the guilt…you can't live with the guilt.

"We love you…we want you with us."

But only if I'm perfect…no damaged humans need apply.

"Edward, are you listening?"

"Please don't…"

Another heavy sigh.

"If that's what you really truly want. I would never force my will on you."

"It's what I…want."

"We won't abandon you Edward. We'll be here for you."

I would ignore his lies. Before today I hadn't expected to see Carlisle or any of them again. If, after the surgery, I was still alive, I would accept and even encourage them to go. Humans and vampires didn't mix. I'd heard that somewhere before but I couldn't remember who said it…Rosalie maybe. It sounded like Rosalie.

"I'll do the surgery."

"I'm sorry you…have to be the one."

"I'm your best hope. You don't think I'd let one of those clumsy human doctors anywhere near your neck with a scalpel do you?"

That made me smile. Carlisle was a brilliant surgeon. When Doctor Carthage had suggested bringing in another surgeon I hadn't even considered Carlisle. In retrospect, I couldn't understand why.

"Edward?"

"Hmmmm."

"I won't let you die on the table."

"I'll try not to."

"No son, if it comes to that, I'll change you…you can hate me afterward."

"…and I will." Was I dreaming? I was beginning to think this entire conversation was happening in my head.

"I'll take my chances."

"What will you…tell Doctor Carthage? He might be…suspicious when I…suddenly jump up from…the operating table."

"Oh…I'll think of something."

"Carlisle?"

"Yes son."

"I don't really want to die."

"I know Edward and I won't let you."

"Okay."

Cold hands on my face…it felt good. I was suddenly hot. I wanted to tell him to take off the extra blankets, but I couldn't get my mouth to form the words.

Author Notes:

The idea that Carlisle was the surgeon that Dr Carthage was bringing in to do the surgery was not mine. A reader questioned whether Carlisle was the surgeon in a review following Walking Disaster and that's how I first got the idea so I changed my outline to accommodate it. I think it made sense and though I always considered Carlisle more of a family doctor; in the Twilight book, Charlie does refer to him as a "brilliant surgeon".

So now you know why the Cullens abandon Edward…the Volturi of course. The details were scant but you'll find out more in upcoming flashbacks ;o). You also know that Edward finds out their secret at some point during his time with them which will also be explored in more depth later on.

What can I say about Bella? More questions I know, but I can't reveal anything yet because what Edward and Carlisle briefly touched upon in this chapter is a huge part of the story.

I have to say that so far this was probably my favorite chapter to write. I simply love anything with Carlisle and Edward as focal points. Their relationship fascinates me.

Comments are always appreciated. Thanks so much for reading.