Disclaimer: Do not own Twilight

WARNING: This story contains disciplinary spanking of a teenage vampire. If this offends you in any way shape or form then don't read and don't bother flaming me!

Thoughts spoken to or heard by Edward will be italicized

Chapter 6: Haunting Memories

A/N: Your reviews were as awesome as ever and the tips really helpful! I've started the Rosalie story and have a good idea of where I"m headed with it. So, this chapter is Edward's and Carlisle's reactions, focusing a little more on Carlisle.

Edward's POV:

It's alright little man, I forgive you. I love you so much and nothing will ever change that, my father thought to me.

I hugged him more tightly, crying even more loudly at the love Carlisle felt for me, and how I'd disappointed him.

Carlisle continued to think and say soothing words to me until I finally began to calm down. Once calmed, shame and embarrassment washed through me, causing me to pull away abruptly and stand up. When I looked into his face, I thought I saw a flash of hurt, but it was quickly gone.

Standing up with me, my father put his hands on my shoulders and thought, All better Edward?

If I had been human I would have been beet red at this point. I looked down at my feet and nodded my head, while saying, "Yes sir." When Carlisle did not respond I looked up to see him frowning slightly.

You do not have to sir me Edward, we are family.

I nodded my head jerkily, feeling extremely mortified by the fact that I had just been spanked on the bare over my father's knees like a disobedient toddler.

"Are you alright son?" my father asked, looking at me in concern. "You do know that all is forgiven right? You have been punished and this can all be put behind us now," he told me kindly.

"I know," I responded quietly while looking at my shoes.

I heard Carlisle sigh deeply. Perhaps he just needs some time alone, he thought. He says he's fine, but he's not acting like his usual self…

"Carlisle, I'm fine," I assured him. "May I please go to my room?" I asked respectfully. I was dying of embarrassment and all I wanted to do was go lick my wounds, as the saying goes, and salvage my teenage pride.

I looked at my father as he furrowed his brow. He swallowed before nodding his head at me and moving aside. Just as I was walking out the door I heard him say, "If you need to talk Edward, my door is always open." I nodded my head, even though I knew he couldn't see me before hurrying into my bedroom.

Once inside I began to furiously try to rub out the sting from my bottom. God, who knew my gentle, pacifistic father could pack such a wallop! That man was full of surprises today. Gingerly lying down on my stomach, I thought back to all that had happened.

I had been a right idiot and I couldn't help but still feel ashamed of my actions. I had known Carlisle was only looking out for my wellbeing, but I had been too blinded by foolish teenage pride to listen to him. I had almost killed a human, I thought guiltily. That boy had been a right jerk, but that didn't mean he deserved to die. I don't know how I would have lived with myself if I had killed him. Thank God Dad had been there to stop me.

Burying my head in my pillow I then moaned quietly while remembering my stupid idea of running away. I had to have the worst luck imaginable to run into two nomads who enjoyed picking fights with those weaker than them. I still felt embarrassment at how easily they defeated me. I really had to get Dad to teach me how to fight. I then smiled wildly, recalling how he had arrived to rescue my dumb ass. The look on John's face, and the shock in his mind had been priceless.

I continued to smile as I remembered when he told me he thought of me as his son and that he loved me. I had felt such relief at that moment, knowing that I would not have to leave, and knowing that I was not a burden to him. As loathe as I am to admit it, I still need a father. I may be 19, but I still at times felt like the scared 17-year old boy that I was when I first awakened to this life.

My thoughts then began to drift to my recent punishment. I could not believe it when Carlisle had told me he was going to spank me. I had been shocked and beyond mortified. Yeah I had been spanked as a human, but I had been 16 the last time my human father had taken me in hand. I had stolen his car and then wrecked it while racing a friend of mine.

I knew Carlisle had said he considered me a son, but I had not expected such a human punishment. I'm not sure what I had been expecting, but it had definitely not been that. Grudgingly I could see why he had chosen such a punishment. As he had said, lecturing hadn't stopped me from misbehaving, and he certainly couldn't ground me, as I had nothing to be grounded from. That said, the only punishment sure to leave an impression on me would be a good old fashioned ass whipping.

I honestly didn't think the old man had it in him though. I had always seen him as a gentle and caring man who hated any form of violence. I had noticed how much he had been fighting with himself over punishing me, and I must admit I took advantage of that. I noticed the reaction I got when I called him Dad, and hoped that if I continued to do so he would relent. Obviously that didn't work as I'm lying here with a throbbing backside.

I moaned into my pillow once more in embarrassment. Did he really have to do it on the bare though? I'm positive he could have left as good an impression doing it over my pants.

He did warn you though, a small traitorous part of my brain argued.

I huffed angrily before remembering how gentle Dad had been with me afterwards. He had held me and rubbed my back until I had calmed down. Though I still felt embarrassed by this, that feeling was overwhelmed by the acceptance and love I had felt oozing off of him. My human father had never comforted me like that. I knew he loved me, and he was never cruel, but he had always been a bit distant, and would leave the comforting hugs and kisses to my mother.

My unbeating heart ached as I thought of my mother. I missed her terribly at times, and I often wondered what she would be thinking of me. Would she be proud of me, or angry and disgusted at what I had become? Well, she would certainly be angry over my disrespect I thought sadly. She had raised me better than that. My musings were all of a sudden cut short as I heard a soft moan come from my father's office.

I frowned, lifting myself out of bed while listening in to my father's thoughts intently. What was going on, I thought in bewilderment?

I growled lowly in frustration. I couldn't understand what he was thinking, but I could tell that he was distressed. I quickly left my room and walked towards his office when all of a sudden I became lost in a memory that was not my own…

Carlisle's POV:

I lay down on my couch, staring at the ceiling. I felt absolutely horrid. I felt like a monster. How could I have done that to Edward? I had hurt my son. I had made my son cry, I thought in agony. What was I thinking? I should never have done this! He was crying so hard, I should've stopped long before! What was wrong with me?

I closed my eyes, growling lowly as I felt venom tears sting my eyes. I had no right to be crying after what I had done to my son! I was just like my father, I thought in horror. Why had I listened to George? I should have just let the boy off with a stern talking to. He had already looked so repentant.

H deserved it though a small part of me argued. He had disobeyed you and almost gotten hurt. By spanking him you will insure that he does not behave so recklessly again. I wanted so much to believe this, but the memory of my son's painful cries tore through me like a hot knife.

I sat up, burying my head in my hands, while breathing deeply. I choked back a sob, all the while hearing my father's taunting words.

Crying Carlisle? What a pathetic excuse for a son you are. I thought I had raised a man, not a sniveling woman! Dry your tears before I give you something to really cry about!

I growled lowly once more as the memories washed over me. I wanted so much to forget my father, but even after centuries he continued to plague me. He continued to haunt me, tormenting me for having been a failure of a son.

"Please Daddy, no more! I promise I'll never disobey you again!" I recalled my son's plea and could not help but loathe myself even more. How often I had uttered a similar plea to my father, only to have him punish me harder.

I had tried so hard to be a good son. I had tried so hard to please my father, but nothing ever worked. I could not accept what he did as God's work. I tried the best I could to think the way he did, and to see things the way he did. I tried to believe that my father was doing the right thing, and that the people he sentenced to the death were really guilty, but it never worked. Every time I would look into the eyes of his victims, I knew from the bottom of my heart that they were innocent.

"Please Daddy, no more! I promise I'll never disobey you again!" I groaned out loud. Edward's plea once more echoed through my mind until it was no longer Edward's voice I heard, but my own. A memory washed over me; a memory that forever haunted me. I was once again 14 standing by my father's side…

Memory

I sighed inwardly wishing to be anywhere but here. Father had once more been called out to investigate a report of a witch. I had not wanted to accompany him on this journey for I knew how it would end, but experience had taught me to hold my tongue. I knew if I had said anything it would have been a very uncomfortable ride for me.

It was almost nightfall and I was tired and hungry, but I did not dare speak a word of complaint.

I stood next to my father outside the town's small church, waiting for the "witch" to be brought to us. I glanced at my father who was looking as stern and foreboding as ever with his bible in one hand and a rosary in the other. He mumbled prayers to himself before straightening up when a group of men approached us.

"Thank you so much for coming Pastor Cullen," an elderly gentleman said while shaking my father's hand.

"Not at all Mr. Jameson," he said in a deep baritone voice. "I am always eager to do God's work. Now where is she?"

"The witch is at the courthouse Pastor. If you just follow me, I'll show you," Mr. Jameson responded before leading us into a courthouse. Once inside I noticed a young girl, no older than 12 with manacles around her writs and feet. She had dark black hair and pale white skin. I could see her shaking, and as we walked toward her she looked up at me and I stopped. This girl had one eye a deep blue color while the other one was an emerald green. She stared at me with wide fearful eyes as tears ran down her cheeks.

I walked forward, touching the prison bars that surrounded her. My heart ached for the poor girl. They had her caged like an animal, and from the looks of it, they had not fed her recently. The girl glanced at the men around me fearfully, while giving me a curious stare. I was about to speak when I felt my father's vice like grip on my shoulder.

"Carlisle Cullen, what do you think you are doing?" he asked in a low, dangerous voice.

"Nothing Father," I replied quickly, while stepping away from the bars. My father tightened his grip on me and brought me close. I could see the other gentleman watching, and I could not help the blush that colored my cheeks.

"Stay away from this witch Carlisle, and do not let her tricks fool you. Keep your faith in God and you will be protected. Lose faith, and she will take advantage," he warned me. I glanced quickly at the crying girl before replying respectfully, "Yes Father, I understand".

He gave me a hard stare that promised pain should I even think of disobeying, and I could barely contain my shiver. Letting go of my shoulder, he then said, "come, we will retire for the night and decide her fate tomorrow." I followed obediently, but not before glancing once more at the girl.

We were staying with Mr. Jameson, but there was not enough room for both my father and I, so I was set up a bed in the barn. This suited me just fine because the less time I spent in my father's presence the better. I also wanted to desperately talk to the girl, to see for myself is she truly was a witch.

I quickly and quietly found the courthouse and snuck in. There in the small cell in the back the poor child was curled up in a ball. My heart ached for her once more and I wished I had brought a blanket for her.

"Hello," I whispered quietly. The girl jumped before scooting quickly into the corner. I sat down on the floor, holding my hands up in a placating manner. "I am not here to hurt you," I assured her before pulling out a piece of bread and holding it out for her. "You must be hungry," I said.

She stared at me with those wide fearful eyes before slowly crawling over and taking the bread. She quickly ate it all, and I felt guilty for not having brought more. "My name is Carlisle," I told her when she looked up at me. "What's yours?"

She gave me a curious look before quietly mumbling, "Ariana". I gave her a kind smile while saying, "That is a beautiful name." She gave me a tentative smile before scooting closer to the bars. We talked for several hours about everything and nothing. I told her of my life, and how I was seen as a constant failure by my father. She told me about her family moving here from Spain, and how slowly each one died from an illness until she was the only one left. She told me about stealing food to survive, but that one day she was caught stealing an apple form an old woman. The old woman had beaten her with a stick, and Ariana had barely made it out alive. The next day the woman turned up dead, and the townspeople hunted her down. She had already been feared because of the color of her eyes, but this had been match to light the fire. They accused her of witchcraft and had blamed her for the death of her family and the old woman. This had happened a few weeks ago, and she had been locked up here ever since.

I took her small cold hand in mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Do not worry," I said. "I will talk to my father and make sure you are set free. I know you are innocent, and my father would never kill an innocent," I assured her, all the while hoping what I said was really true. I had my doubts about what my father did, but I still had faith that he would do the right thing.

She squeezed my hand with both hers, and looked at me with tears in her eyes. "Thank you Carlisle, thank you!" she said. "You are a gift from God," she told me graciously, causing me to blush.

"No I am not," I told her. "I am only doing the right thing." I bid her farewell, and snuck back to the barn with no one the wiser. Once morning came, I mustered up my courage and approached my father. I was extremely worried how he would react to my disobedience but saw no way around admitting it if I wanted to help Ariana. I just hoped that he would ignore that small detail in favor of helping Ariana.

"Good morning Father," I greeted nervously.

"Good morning Carlisle," he responded while putting his boots on. "Have you recited your morning prayers?"

"Yes sir," I replied before taking a deep breath. Now or never Carlisle, Ariana's life is in your hands.

"Father, last night I went and spoke with the girl who is being accused of witchcraft and I believe – no, I know the townspeople are mistaken. They are judging her solely because she is an orphan and because of the way her eyes are. She is innocent," I told him vehemently.

My father was frozen throughout my little speech, but when I finished he looked up and me and asked dangerously, "You did what last night?"

"I-I sp-spoke with the girl," I stuttered, heart beginning to beat rapidly. Did he not understand what I just said?

Father gave me a dark glare and took a threatening step towards me. "After I told you not to?" he asked. "After I deliberately warned you about the tricks that little heathen could play on you?"

My heart hammered wildly, but I stood my ground. "She has played no trick on me Father. One only need speak to Ariana and you would know she is innocent. She is only a child!" I finished strongly, immediately regretting having raised my voice when I saw the look on my father's face.

Father walked towards me until he was an inch from my face. "How dare you raise your voice to me Carlisle Cullen! You have not been faithful enough to God, so he has allowed this witch to taint you with Satan's ways," he told me furiously.

"No father" I began to say before being cut off with a slap to my face.

"Ah!" I yelped, startled by the blow.

Father picked me up by my collar and gave me a dangerous look. "You will learn to hold your tongue," he said menacingly before dropping me and walking over to his bag. I picked myself up, all the while hoping and praying he was not doing what I thought he was doing.

I groaned internally when I saw him pull out the strap. Noooo, this was not supposed to be happening. He was supposed to listen to me; he was supposed to actually care that an innocent child was going to be murdered!

"Please Father," I said only to be silenced with a sharp look. "To the barn with you," he ordered. Shaking, I numbly walked out of the house and into the barn. I threw my father a pleading look, causing him to grip the whip tighter and give me a glare. He pointed towards the wall of the barn, and I walked over. I took off my jacket and shirt, and then neatly folded them before placing my hands on the wall.

I had barely gotten into position when I felt the first sting of the whip. Crack!

I bit my lip to keep from making a sound. Father said I was a man now and that I would take my punishment in silence lest I want further punishment.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

I gritted my teeth, willing myself to stay silent.

"You are a disgrace of a son Carlisle! How dare you let that witch take advantage of you! How dare you disobey me!" he lectured as he brought down the cursed strap.

"I am sorry Father," I gasped out. "Please – Ah! - forgive me!" I yelled out. My back was on fire and at this point I would say anything to get him to stop. I knew I was right, but that did not make this punishment hurt any less. In fact, if anything, it hurt worse than ever.

"Silence!" my father roared, bringing the strap down harder than before. CRACK!

I hissed in pain, biting through my lip. "Please Father, no more! I promise I will never disobey you again!" I pleaded as tears began to fall.

"You are pathetic! Crying like a small child! You are a man now, so stop those tears and accept your punishment!" he yelled.

"Y-Yes sir!" I gasped as I wiped at my tears. Do not cry. Do not make a sound. Take your punishment like a man, I chanted over and over in my head as my father continued to bring the strap down and lecture me.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

My nails dug into the wood, and it was taking all my strength to remain standing. I could feel blood running down my back.

My father brought the strap down three final times before declaring my punishment over.

"Clean yourself up and be ready to accompany me to the trial in 30 minutes," he said harshly before departing.

I immediately fell to the ground, moaning from the pain, inside and out. Any doubts that I had once had of my father were now gone. I now knew for certain that he did not care to find out if a person was innocent or not. He was content to kill as many people as he could, as long as he felt he was doing God's work. I had never hated my father more than I did now. He was going to kill Ariana, and he was going to make me watch. I closed my eyes tightly, while choking back a sob, wishing and praying to God to just let me die…

End Memory…

"Carlisle!" someone yelled

"Carlisle, snap out of it!" I heard before I felt a strong blow to my head.

A/N: So, intense I know. Maybe a little overboard, but Carlisle is my favorite character and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to look into his past. Let me know what you think, and the next chapter will be the last one!