You Found Me Chapter 30: Desperation, a twilight fanfic

Title: You Found Me

Full Summary: Edward Masen has lived the life of a nomadic vampire, travelling with James and Victoria since he awoke as an immortal. His ability to read minds has had the unusual side effect of making him a vampire with a conscience. Despite the ridicule from his coven mates, he's confident he's making the best of his existence and doing what's morally right... until he stumbles upon a brown-eyed girl reading in a meadow in Forks. As he attempts to befriend her and learns more about the sleepy town of Forks, Edward finds there's a lot more to being a vampire than he ever thought possible.

Pairings: Canon

Rating: M, for language and sexing.

Chapter: Thirty; Desperation

POV: Carlisle

AN: Yes, you read that right, this POV is Carlisle's. From the beginning of the story I had intended to include the back story hinted at in the preface. This is it. In light of Edward going to Carlisle for answers, his POV seemed the best fit. I hope you feel, as I do, that it adds something to the story a little more sophisticated than a series of memory dives in Carlisle's head from EPOV.

As always a ginormous thank you to everyone who has helped get this story to this point. I can't believe we're at 30 already :)

87 years earlier…

The hospital was full to maximum capacity, every single one of its sixty beds occupied. It broke what remained of my heart. An endless supply of ill folks littered them, many whom would eventually succumb to the cruel hands of the disease that had gripped the nation. Just as hundreds of thousands of young, healthy people before them had. The Influenza had been merciless.

I was safe from the line of fire but doomed to watch the carnage. I did not sleep, I hardly ate, yet I could not do enough. If I dared turn my back, even for a moment, it could mean the life of another lost, another I might have been able to save.

These days, I was unable to get to know my patients very well. There were far too many extenuating circumstances. Death most certainly put a damper on living. Even the select few patients I had a hand in nursing back to health, I could not allow myself to develop lasting relationships with. For all intents and purposes I belonged amongst dead. Carlisle Cullen, as he had once lived, no longer existed.

I was a mere shadow walking alongside the living.

Since my transformation over two-hundred years ago, I had lived a fulfilling if incomplete life. I had the pleasure of knowing I was making a difference with my contributions to medicine. That didn't stop the longing I had for something more. Some days – and those days were becoming increasingly more frequent – I craved the simple pleasure of another's touch.

It had been years since I'd last touched another beyond the necessities of my chosen profession. Distant, clinical touches were hardly the emotional sustenance I craved.

I didn't need the cold, wanton touches of an easy lover. Sexual fulfillment was not something that concerned me. I trusted God's plan for me. I trusted his judgment. He would lead me to the person meant to be my partner, eventually. I simply needed to have patience with him. He had given me forever. I owed him the same.

Nevertheless, the longer the passage of time I walked the planet alone stretched, the more consuming the desire to have a companion grew. My soul was growing restless, as was my faith.

A weak hand reached out to me, a welcome distraction from unwelcome thoughts.

"Hello, Mrs. Aaron," I greeted, forcing a polite smile. "How are you this evening?"

Her smile was as weak as her grip on my shirt but it bolstered my determination to remain thankful for what I had. If someone so ravaged by disease could muster a smile, surely I, immortal and wanting for nothing except companionship, could do the same?

"I'm doing well given the circumstances, Dr. Cullen. Dr. Talbot has assured me I will make it through the night." Her voice was soft and hoarse, worn down by sickness. Had I lesser hearing, I might not have understood.

"I was hoping you would be so kind as to call my daughter and her husband? Tonight may be my last chance to visit with her. They are very newly married. They will be leaving town in the morning for their honeymoon."

It was a blatant lie. I knew very well that Beatrice Aaron had been married half a dozen years with one small child and another on the way. Medical records were not foolproof but my memory was.

"I wish I could, Mrs. Aaron," I told her gently, wishing it was within my power to grant her request. The weak beat of her heart told me Dr. Talbot had been incorrect in his assessment. "You know, as I do, that visiting hours are in the morning. Surely your daughter can be convinced to postpone her trip one day?"

Mrs. Aaron winked, playfulness lurking beneath the sunken, tired eyes. "We both know that Dr. Talbot has grown soft. He told me I would see tomorrow because he believes it to be what I want to hear. We all know I'll be taking my final breaths tonight. I have made my peace with God. I would like to see my loved ones before I pass. Please, Dr. Cullen, reconsider my request?"

I nodded against my better judgment, unable to deny her the opportunity to say goodbye to her family. "I'll see what I can do."

Mrs. Aaron clasped her hands, thanking God for granting her prayers in her final hours. I knew I would make certain Mrs. Aaron saw her relatives before the sun rose. The hospital was in chaos, full beyond its capacity, with such astonishing turnover that a body or two that did not belong would hardly be noticed.

I was becoming too attached to my patients. The lack of companionship in other areas of my life was making me susceptible to growing attached beyond the requirements of my profession. There was a certain anonymity in the ever looping deaths but it wasn't enough. Eventually my colleagues and patients whose lives extended beyond the Influenza would recognize I wasn't aging if I continued on this path.

I continued doing my nightly rounds, checking in with the numerous patients under my care, most of whom appeared to be in worse shape than I'd left them. It was not easy to leave each morning when my shift ended, knowing I would be sitting idle, neglecting those I was trusted to care for.

I spent most of the daytime hours researching a cure to supplement my evening shifts at the hospital but thus far it appeared a lost cause. A cure was simply beyond the medical community's ability to heal.

"Dr. Cullen!"

I turned at the sound of my name.

The bright eyes of Elizabeth Masen found mine. She had been admitted several days ago, exhibiting the extreme fever and bloody cough symptomatic of the flu. Her cheeks were sunken and tinged blue but she managed to appear cheerful nonetheless. I knew much of that had to do with the presence of her son in the bedside next to hers.

He had been admitted shortly after his mother with similar but less progressed symptoms. Though she detested that he was there at all, Elizabeth was confident he would beat the flu so many others had not. He was in better shape than many others, herself included.

"Hello, Mrs. Masen." I smiled cordially, glad to see her in good spirits. When she smiled she reminded me of another redhead, one I hadn't seen in years, yet could envision so perfectly it was if she sat before me.

A broken leg and a decade's worth of fond memories. A laugh that I would have sworn had the power to heal.

Yes, I decided, I was definitely becoming too attached to my patients.

"Can you still not release Edward? The other doctors say he has made improvements. Surely he would fare better at our home, away from those still in poor health?"

"I'm afraid not, Mrs. Masen," I told her carefully, detesting extinguishing her hope. Edward's system was still struggling to fight off the disease threatening his life. There was no guarantee he would not regress and further worsen as the illness overwhelmed his body's defenses.

"Your son hasn't improved to such as degree that I would feel comfortable releasing him from the hospital's care. It is in his best interest to remain within close proximity to a physician at all times."

"Mother," Edward complained from the next bed, peering at us over a book. "I'm fine. I would rather be here, keeping you company, than at home mourning Father's passing alone."

Elizabeth reached over to the next bed, smoothing her son's hair fondly. The vibrant auburn bounced back, refusing his mother's best efforts. "I know, darling. You're a sweet boy, concerning yourself with me. Now that your father is gone, you're all the family I have left."

"Mother," he admonished. "We will both be fine. You'll see. Nana Johnson will be welcoming us home before the week is out. And then I'll be able to draft–"

"Edward!"

Elizabeth flushed and turned to me embarrassed by her outburst. "I'm sorry, Dr. Cullen. My son," she turned a fiery green gaze upon Edward, "has some grand ideas about war. He thinks he ought to be a soldier–"

"There's nothing wrong for fighting for something you believe in! I believe in freedom and hope and… "

"Don't we all, darling?" she asked softly. The words might have sounded condescending but Elizabeth made them sound the opposite; her overlapping fondness and fear for her son clear. "That's no reason to go putting yourself in harm's way. You have such great potential. You could be a lawyer like your father. Or a physician like Dr. Cullen. Isn't that right, doctor?"

I smiled in agreement. The hospital would have been lucky to have a doctor with Edward's passion and determination.

"Of course. Your mother is right. You would make a wonderful doctor. They need healers, even in war, you know. Consider the good you could do saving lives of other soldiers."

Edward paused, lowering his book thoughtfully. "Perhaps that wouldn't be so awful. It would make father proud."

Elizabeth reached for her son's hand. "Darling, your father will be proud of you no matter where your life leads you. As will I. You're our son. That's reason enough."

I thought of red hair and broken legs and the son I would never have.

The next few days saw little improvement in the hospital's gruesome affairs.

Just as she had predicted, Mrs. Aaron had succumbed to her ailment. A sobbing Beatrice had thanked me for arranging the covert reunion with her mother.

Countless others met the same fate over the days that followed. More patients were lost to the clutches of the Influenza than were released from the hospital. The unfortunate truth was that by the time people were submitted to the hospital their symptoms were typically too far progressed. All we could provide was minimal pain relief.

Sitting idly and waiting for the worst had become the majority of my job. I knew I wasn't the only one who felt impotent. The hospital, quite easily, could have become a pit of despair. It was strange how the horrible circumstances seemed to bring out the fighting strength in some.

Elizabeth and Edward Masen were two such people.

It was painful to watch as they weakened, too fatigued by the virus to do the things they loved. They slept so often, they were rarely ever awake for more than a handful of minutes at the same time.

The book Edward had been reading with such dedication had been relegated to beneath his pillow, a page a mere thirty from the end dog-eared to mark his place. I worried he might never finish it. The thought saddened me.

When I had had claimed that Edward great potential, I had not said so merely because his mother had asked for support. He was intelligent, determined to do good, to fight for what he believed in.

I saw myself in him.

His passion for a cause at such a young age resonated deeply. He revered the thousands of nameless, faceless men serving in the war. I had held my father and his religion (and, if I was being honest with myself, his politics) near and dear.

I had been so desperate to make my father proud. I had been out of my depth, not understanding what I was getting myself into by engaging in my father's discriminatory practices. In hunting the bottom feeders of society that my father had preached again, I had become one myself.

God had effectively shown me the error of my ways.

As honourable as my intentions had been, they had been misguided. I knew that now. I was no less soulless as a vampire than I had been as a human. There was still potential for good in me. My purpose – the cause that drove me – had been irrevocably altered. Instead of fighting to the death, I was determined to fight for life.

Edward Masen deserved to live to see life beyond seventeen. He was on the cusp of beginning his life. If there was anything I could do to help him fulfill the potential I knew he had, I would help him get there.

I continued doing my rounds. The considerable supply of aspirin I had brought with me quickly dwindled to none. The hospital's supplies had long been extinguished. The stash I had accumulated in exchange for ten times its worth was growing thin, too.

The drug was a fruitless means of treatment but it offered pain relief. Numbing my patients to their suffering was the best I could offer.

By the time I reached Elizabeth and Edward, my pockets were empty. Edward was sleeping restlessly but his mother opened her eyes weakly. She peered at me with warm eyes that belied her haggard appearance. They were still a stunning green just like her son's.

"Dr. Cullen," she mumbled. I strained to make sense of her jumbled voice. "How is Edward?"

I smiled at her perpetual worry for son. She was the kind of mother I had always wished for. I didn't remember mine.

"He's holding on, Elizabeth. You worry about keeping your strength up. Edward looks to you for his cues."

"Carlisle. Speak honestly with me. Is he going to make it?" Weakly, she propped herself up on her pillow, her arms shaking beneath her.

I swallowed hard, fighting against tears that would never come. I could not be the one to give her the answer she dreaded. This woman and her son had managed to touch my heart in such a short time. The thought of causing additional pain, when they lay dying in hospital beds under my charge was heartbreaking.

"I don't know. It is possible, of course," I said, attempting optimism, albeit poorly. "I have seen survivors of worse cases. However his body is weakened. He is in for the fight of his life. His body has already endured so much. I would say that he is young and healthy, but the flu has struck the young and healthy worst of all. My prognosis is undetermined at this stage."

Elizabeth slumped back into her pillow as a brutal cough overcame her. "Is there nothing at all you can do?" She arched an eyebrow at me. "You are not like the other doctors, Dr. Cullen."

I grasped her hand gently. Even though she was deathly pale and cold, she felt warm to my touch.

"Elizabeth, I'm not sure that I grasp what you mean. Every doctor in this hospital wishes to see his patients to improve and is doing everything within his power to ensure it happens."

"I don't doubt it," Elizabeth whispered tiredly. "But you – you must do what the others cannot. For Edward."

Her eyes slipped closed as the final words fell from her lips. I squeezed the hand still in mine, an unspoken promise, my throat constricting.

It was a moment before I realized she had only drifted to into the sleep that occupied most of her time now. Her pulse was weak but most definitely present. Our short conversation had sapped her of her energy.

I mulled over her words about how I was different. She was certainly correct in that assumption. Something deep inside of me told me it was not merely an assumption. She was shrewd far beyond her mortal years.

Could she possibly be aware that I was not human?

I longed to wake her and ask. I refrained. Her body needed to recuperate, it would have been immeasurably selfish to risk her life because I wanted answers. Edward needed his mother.

I never learned precisely what Elizabeth had been asking of me. When I returned less than two hours later, her body was cold.

Edward was hovering over his mother. He had pulled himself – with all the strength remaining in his fragile body – to her bedside. He knelt at her bedside holding one of her hands in a white-knuckled grip. There were dried tear tracks on his face that I paid no notice, knowing he wouldn't want me to see them.

"Edward," I said softly, touching his shoulder. He glanced over his shoulder to see who was speaking to him, his gaze immediately returning to his mother's peaceful face. "You should return to your bed."

He ignored the request. I wasn't sure he heard me at all. For several moments his intermittent coughs were the only sound between us.

"She's gone," he said eventually. His voice was dull.

His mother – one of few people he would ever love unconditionally – had been ripped from him, just as his father had been mere weeks earlier. At age seventeen, before his life had truly begun, Edward was left without any family to speak of.

"Do you think she is in heaven?" He turned large green eyes on me, appearing half his age. He shook his head disregarding his question. The movement caused him to cough violently. "She must be," he said emphatically.

I nodded, kneeling on the floor next to him. "I'm sure she is. She was an admirable woman. She loved you very much. God rewards those who love selflessly."

He seemed happy with that response. I didn't push the conversation any further, knowing my interference would be unwelcome. I sat beside him as he mourned his loss, unable to leave him alone in his misery.

I was neglecting my other patients. I told myself Edward needed me more. After ten minutes, I realized I had spent more time with him in complete silence than I had with any other patient while they were awake.

While Edward mourned his mother, I thought of my own miseries.

Tangled red hair and a broken leg. The son I would never have. A life of solitude.

Some might have said that I had an epiphany during one of the precious moments I spent companionably by Edward's side.

It started with a simple thought, but it was one that would change my life forever.

Edward was the son I had always wished I had.

Eventually I managed to persuade Edward to return to his bed. It was apparent he agreed only because he was too tired to resist.

His drooping eyes remained on his mother even as I lifted him the few feet to his bed. The moment his head hit his pillow, he was asleep. His tears and the excursion out of bed had drained his last reserves of energy.

I blew out the candle at his bedside, not wanting the unnecessary light to disturb his sleep. I watched his crumpled face as he slept. Even in sleep, he did not appear peaceful. Despite the sunken appearance that was uniform to my patients, Edward retained a slight youthful roundness.

He was easily as tall as the bed was long, but curled upon himself, he looked incredibly small. Innocent and childlike. He was just a boy. Only seventeen.

I could give Edward an extended life, one that did not rely on rolling the dice of fate.

Over the following hours I contemplated Elizabeth's final words as I completed my routine rounds. They tumbled through my mind cyclically, undergoing every possible scrutiny.

At times I had convinced myself I was only considering changing Edward out of pure selfishness. At others I was certain that Elizabeth had given her blessing.

I was a doctor; I excelled in my field. Perhaps she had only expected the best medical care I could provide. That interpretation did not settle right. The utterly serious expression Elizabeth had fixed me with as she spoke squirmed uncomfortably in the back of my consciousness. Her words were not merely those of a delirious woman worried about mortality. She had known she was relaying a crucial message.

My heart tore with indecision.

When I passed Edward's bedside several hours later, he was sleeping. The patient in the adjacent bed informed me he had been awake not too long before, coughing up blood. My stomach twisted. I was running out of time.

Edward was not going to improve. He was going to meet the same fate his parents had unless I intervened. His future rested in my hands.

I knew then that I had reached the decision that, deep down, I had known I would come to all along.

It was not the most simple task removing Edward from the hospital undetected. He had been in the ward for nearly a week, a virtual eternity given how quickly the Influenza wrecked the bodies of those it inhabited. He had been fairly well-known and liked around the ward. Elizabeth's passing had hit several of my other patients hard. The absence of her positive energy was palatable. I knew Edward's assumed death would be a cause for notice, just as his mother's had been.

Then there was the fact I had to resign from my position in order to take care of Edward as he became accustomed to his new body. It pained me to think that I would be unable to provide support for the ailing masses. I reminded myself of the promise I had made to Elizabeth.

I waited until just before daybreak, when the ward was at its most quiet. Restful sleep was something that was not easy to come by in the hospital. Coughing and pained groans were a constant disturbance at all hours. We continued to encourage the patients to keep quiet and attempt to rest during the nighttime hours. It was at this time when all lights were extinguished that I had the greatest chance of removing Edward without arousing suspicion.

During the blackest part of the early morning, just before the dawn, I pulled Edward from his bed. He was nearly weightless he was so thin. He slumped against me, asking in hoarse, disjointed tones where we were going. I kept my answer short and truthful, knowing it he would likely not remember the conversation the next time we spoke.

He nodded, slumping against me trustingly, either too tired or too out of his wits to question me. I was glad he did not seem to fear me, even as he came into contact with my unnatural stone flesh. His hands were nearly as cold as mine, despite his feverish forehead.

Removing him from his ward went smoothly enough. Explaining why I had brought Edward into the hallway connecting to other areas of the hospital would be more problematic. Very rarely were patients transferred around the hospital. Since the Influenza had taken hold, it was deemed important to maintain separation as much as possible.

A window caught my eye. I could jimmy it open and we could exit that way if I did it quickly. The rapid footsteps of pair of doctors were fast approaching.

Hastily I helped Edward to lean against the wall next to it. Even with the support his knees buckled, unable to hold his weight. Awkwardly using one hand to support Edward and the other to maneuver the fastenings on the window, I managed to prop it open enough to lower Edward to the ground outside. He said nothing, too weak and delirious to make sense of the strange turn of events.

I followed gently shutting the window behind me just as the shadows of two doctors entered the hallway. They loomed over where Edward and I ducked under the windowsill, hiding from unwanted stares.

I wrapped an arm around Edward in a poor attempt to block out the gusty wind hitting him on the sides unprotected by the building. He was only in thin nightclothes and it was a bitter night. He had to be freezing.

"I'm so sorry, Edward," I whispered to him, unsure if he understood what I was saying. His state of consciousness was indeterminable.

He shrugged or at least I thought he might have. The shivering made it difficult to tell. "…going with… mother and father…" he told me nonsensically. It didn't take much brains to determine he thought he was dying.

Finally the doctors vacated. I didn't give a second glance behind me. I picked Edward up and sprinted from the hospital as quickly as my feet would allow.

Under the cover of night it did not take us long to reach my small one-room bungalow. I laid Edward on my bed, stroking his windblown hair from his face, guilty and worried in equal measures.

Swept up in the challenge of removing him from the hospital, I thought I had accomplished the most complicated part of my plan. Now that I was faced with drinking from his frail body, I realized the most difficult part was yet to come.

Foolishly, I had assumed I would have the power to save his life. I had not stopped to consider I might drain him of the little life he had left. I had never changed another being before, nor had I tasted human blood. Both were likely to have a negative impact on my ability to complete a change successfully on my first attempt. I had heard horror stories. Purposefully attempted transformations were rarely successful. It wasn't unlikely that I would fail.

Regardless, there was no time for hesitation.

I pulled down the collar of Edward's night shirt, revealing an expanse of his pale neck. Willing myself over my self-taught aversion to human blood, I lowered my teeth the flesh. This close to his carotid artery, the faded pulsing sound seemed deafening.

The moment my teeth grazed his skin he stiffened, the small movement causing my teeth to sink into him. With the taste of blood on my tongue I was unable to resist temptation, I gulped once, twice, three times. A sickening bile rose in my throat along with a fiery panic and I still could not stop. Even his agonized screams did nothing to deter my need. Aware as I was that I was killing him, my body demanded more.

With more determination than I knew I possessed, I wrenched myself away, a magnet resisting its natural pull.

I fled to the opposite end of the room gasping for unneeded breath. I washed my mouth out in the small sink in the far corner, determined to rid myself of the blasphemous taste. Gladly I bit down on the bar of soap resting next to it in a tin. Anything was better than the punishing taste of Edward's blood.

Several minutes passed before I felt secure enough in my state of mind to venture to Edward's side again. My venom had diluted his blood to such a degree it no longer smelled even vaguely appetizing, a fact for which I was immensely grateful.

His heart beat stronger than before and slightly quicker. I had never witnessed a transformation before but this seemed to be a positive sign. I knelt, reciting a quick prayer thanking God for my apparent success, pleading with him to preserve Edward's life for the tumultuous days that were to follow.

Hours passed slowly.

I dragged my desk chair to Edward's bedside, hoping my presence would help in some small way. At times it was difficult to watch his contorted expressions and pained screams but I could not leave him alone. I reminded myself it was a sure sign the venom had taken hold.

At the eighteen hour mark, I found myself hosting an unexpected visitor. I had been so captivated with Edward's transformation the knock at the door was entirely unexpected. I had no intention of opening it to anyone, so I ignored it. No good could come from a human witnessing Edward in this state.

Of course, when it came to the Volturi, being invited in was never an obstacle.

Next thing I knew, the door was unlocked and Eleazar was strolling inside. He pulled up a seat next to mine. We looked over Edward together.

"Carlisle." He appraised me with cool red eyes.

"Eleazar," I returned politely. "What brings you to my home?"

"Business. We're investigating a pair of troublemakers in the city. They have been neglecting to hunt conspicuously – a feat made quite simple by the Influenza – and Aro wanted them dealt with. He asked me to see how you've been."

I nodded, unsurprised. Aro had been a good friend to me during my decades in Italy. I was not surprised to hear he asked his guard to check up on me. Every so often, they would drop in for status updates to return to him. Eleazar and I had also been close. I would not have been surprised to hear he had volunteered for the job.

He nodded to the writhing boy on the bed. "You're brining a new one into the fold? Unexpected, I must say. Aro and the others were certain you would never have the nerve to follow through with an event so traumatic to the human involved."

"His mother asked for me to save his life as her dying wish."

Eleazar chuckled. "Save his life you say? I'm not quite sure this is what the woman had in mind, Carlisle. As a physician, surely you know that?"

"It wasn't a typical request," I countered. "I think she may have been aware that I was a vampire. She never said so, of course. She loved her son so much. I couldn't stand by and do nothing."

Eleazar clapped a hand on my shoulder. "You don't need to explain your motivations to me, old friend. It's about time you adopted a traveling companion. Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't chose a woman. I must say you've picked a very interesting young man, however. He shows great potential."

It was ironic, I thought, that those were the exact same words Elizabeth had used to describe her son. The same words that had caused me think of Edward as more than just another in a line of anonymous patients.

I nodded. "There is something very engaging about him. He has a natural presence." There was something intrinsically special about Edward that I wasn't sure anyone could pinpoint. I wasn't sure what it was myself.

"As you know, determining any gift a human might have is an imprecise art," Eleazar continued thoughtfully, his eyes scanning Edward but seeming to pass right through him at the same time. I had seen him at work often enough to know that he was determining the extent of any special abilities Edward would develop.

"It's even more sketchy during the change. Too much is still undecided. However, it appears that he will have a mental ability. Telepathy of some sort if I had to guess. Though it might be more offensive than that. Creating illusions of some sort in the minds others, perhaps? The ability to push thoughts? It's hard to say exactly how it will manifest. The fact I can determine as much as I can, at what appears to be a very early stage in his transformation tells me the boy will be quite powerful."

"A telepath," I mused, considering what little I had known of Edward's mortal life. He had gotten on very well with others. It would not surprise me that he had been very socially aware and sympathetic to the thoughts of others.

"So it appears. It is not often that such pronounced mental gifts are discovered. If his abilities are anything like Aro's, the man himself will be very interested to meet him indeed."

I hesitated. I didn't want to appear disrespectful. I valued Aro's years of friendship, however his powerful position in the vampire community never ceased to put me on edge. I had no desire to involve myself in Volterra's endless political games.

"Perhaps one day." I kept my voice neutral.

There was always the chance that Aro might touch Eleazar upon his return to Volterra. I did not want to give my old friend a reason to question my loyalty or the strength of our friendship.

Eleazar winked at me. "I'm no telepath but I have a feeling I know where your thoughts are. Don't worry so much, my friend. Aro treasures your alliance. I would wager he has more fingers on one hand than people whom he would bestow the title 'friend' upon. He would not risk a treasured relationship over a boy."

I kept my doubts silent. Aro's love of talented vampires was far from a secret. It wasn't that I believed Aro would purposefully undermine me. I knew he was a good man and a solid, fair ruler for our kind. However, he was not the kind of person I could imagine being a suitable mentor for a malleable newborn.

It had only been hours since I had changed Edward's existence forever and already I felt a sense of responsibility for his happiness. I wanted to help him realize his capabilities as a vampire. As admirable as Aro was in many ways, he was not known for being a calm or patient teacher. I was confident that I could be.

"No, I don't believe he would, either," I agreed. "It has been decades since I visited Volterra. Perhaps Edward and I will make the excursion in the near future."

"I'm certain Aro would welcome you both." Though Eleazar spoke pleasantly enough, it was clear his attention was focused beyond the walls of my small property. I listened also, recognizing the sounds of the guard approaching.

Eleazar extended his hand for me to shake, indicating that he had to be on his way. I did not blame him for the rushed exit. The twins were waiting outside, deadly calm masking the vengeful fury they were known for. Patience was not a strong suit for either of them.

Before he retreated into the night with Jane and Alec, Eleazar promised to return to meet Edward – my protégé, he called him – before he left for Italy.

I smiled, closing the door behind him.

In the wake of Eleazar's visit, I returned to my vigil at Edward's bedside. In the short time that had passed, his heart rate had sped significantly; it now beat several additional times per minute.

His squirming and pained noises increased, too. I desperately wished there was something I could do to ease his suffering. The three days I had lain in a cellar under a pile of potato sacks had been the worst in my life.

I was searching through my desk drawer, checking if I had any aspirin remaining, wondering if they might help to lessen the painful effects of venom, when the door to my bungalow reopened.

I did not pause in my search at first, assuming that Eleazar had returned. When I did look up, I found myself staring into the eyes of two unfamiliar vampires. I did not recognize either of them as members of the Volturi guard.

"Hello, doctor," the man sneered.

His hair was long and dirty and his clothes appeared to be those of a scavenger. They were well worn, ripped and torn in odd places. A nomad, I decided. I had not come across many in my travels as they tended to prefer more natural, woodsy landscapes. My choice of profession kept me chained to urban life.

"Hello," I returned carefully, very aware that Edward lay vulnerable behind me. "Is there something I can help you with?"

The man strolled across the room, settling himself in an armchair as if it belonged to him. "There's nothing you can do for me. Vicky, speak to the man."

His partner – a fiery redhead with a incongruously sweet face – beamed at me, her smile managing to seem vicious.

"We want the boy," she demanded, not bothering to preface the statement.

She stalked towards Edward, brushing past me coldly. She touched his cheek gently, her sinister smile softening to something more tender. The apparent familiarity where there should have been none unsettled me.

I refrained from removing her from his bedside, not wanting to start an unnecessary brawl. I was certain there had been a mistake and that we could settle the matter with words alone.

"Edward has been in my care for the last few weeks. You must be mistaking him for another. Perhaps if you explain to me who you are seeking, I might be able to help?"

"There's been no mistake," the woman, Vicky, snapped. "He's ours now." She retrieved several lengths of cloth from the pocket of her jacket. Perching herself neatly on the edge of Edward's bed, she began binding and gagging him.

"Please don't. You might injure him," I begged, undoing the bindings to free Edward's arms. "He's newly exposed to my venom. His body is still very weak."

The woman glared at me hatefully, her hand clamping down on mine, her nails sinking easily into my flesh. I pulled back, alarmed. She set about fastening new material in place of those I had cut away. I didn't try to stop her this time.

"I do not recall asking for your opinion, doctor." She spat the final word at me like it was a poisonous dart. I kept silent, used to those sorts of slurs from human blood drinkers. Being a physician was not a typically accepted choice amongst the vampire community.

"Are you almost done?" the man looked to Vicky with annoyance. He had abandoned my armchair and was tapping his foot impatiently. "Let's get the kid and get the fuck out of here."

I stood up straighter, distressed. I was running out of time to set things straight. I wasn't sure what was happening. I could not allow them to take Edward but my attempts at convincing the intruders it was a case of mistaken identity were proving unwelcome.

"Please," I tried again. "I don't understand why you are attempting to take Edward. If you might take a moment to explain your motivations to me, perhaps we–"

"Jamie, will you please shut him up?" Vicky fixed spiteful red eyes on me as she stuffed a length of fabric in Edward's mouth. His silenced screams suddenly seemed deafening. "His chatter is driving me up the wall."

I backed against the wall behind me, my mind racing with possibilities. I could attempt to take Edward and flee. If I was weighted down, even if only with Edward's thin form and was forced to take precautions to preserve his life, the likelihood that we would both escape with our lives intact was slim to none.

I could not defend myself against both of them and protect Edward, should they catch up with me. I had witnessed enough violence in Italy to understand the basics of vampire dueling but I was not a natural born fighter. I preferred to avoid conflict and I had never before been faced with a situation where a fight was my only option.

"Please," I attempted to reason with them a final time. "I don't want to fight. Just leave Edward alone. I – I have acquired a considerable wealth, perhaps a monetary agreement–"

"Did you not hear my woman?" the man roared, cutting over my pleas. "She said to 'shut up.' I suggest you shut the fucking hell up."

"I'm sorry."

The apology didn't make it all the way out of my mouth before he was on top of me, lunging at me with the force and aggression of an angry bear. His sudden movement shocked me. I didn't have time to dodge the stone fist cannoning towards my face.

I might have raised my hands to protect myself. If I had, it was a worthless expense of energy. He overpowered me easily.

For the first time in my immortal existence, my mind ceased to be sharp and clear. My sight was horribly blurred, my ears only able to pick up dull echoes I vaguely recognized as my own horrific screams.

The sound of twisting, screeching metal was the only relief from the noise but it was not much of a respite. Accompanying the sounds was pain like I had never known. Excruciating, horrible pain that numbed and dulled my other senses overtook me.

I knew I wasn't dead. I had been witness several of Caius' more inventive executions. This was relatively mild torture in comparison. Yet I longed for the flames that would put an end to the pain. The fire never came.

Eventually, mercifully, the sounds of groaning metal ceased and the pain dulled to a throbbing ache. Still the fire stayed away.

It took the hundreds of disconnected shreds of my body nearly an hour to reassemble, as they squirmed and sorted themselves, a grotesque undead puzzle.

When I finally regained control of my faculties, I was able to confirm what the stubborn, optimistic part of me had refused to believe.

Edward was gone.

Er, yeah, so that was something different for me. I hope I did Carlisle justice and that you found this chapter enjoyable, and that maybe even found it answered a question or two about the motivations of all the characters involved. I would love to hear your opinions on the matter :)

Normal service shall resume next chapter… and it should be a fun one ;)