Disclaimer – Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer.

AN (1) – Thank you to the support of all my readers and reviewers. Thank you to my pre-reader and chapter beta sandraj60. Check out her story Mating for a great Carlisle and Edward story (with a dash of Jasper for good measure). Thank you always to my partner in crime Pace is the Trick, for her ongoing support and assistance.

AN (2) - I know that after the delay for Chapter 12, this update may come a surprise. What can I say, other than I became inspired. The next two chapters are well and truly planned, and I hope to continue to update more regularly.

AN (3) - I will remind readers that Carlisle is becoming very much a vampire in this story; he is not human. He is a vampire that has had his first real drink of human blood, causing him to become dangerous and monstrous.

AN (4) – This chapter contains medium level violence.

Chapter 13

Much violence is based on the illusion that life is a property to be defended and not to be shared.

Henri Nouwe

Edward lay on the bed, Carlisle's arms wrapped tightly around him. Lying like this, he could almost believe that it was the start of the year and they were relaxing under the stars, the joy and hope of their new lives and opportunity in Oberlin ahead of them.

However, the continuous flickering of Carlisle thoughts to the backpack and the last of the stolen blood was a constant reminder of their present situation.

As he lay quietly, trying not to make any sound or movement, he decided he needed to stop thinking of himself as the 'subservient' mate relying on Carlisle to care for him; he needed to take responsibility for his part in this train wreck and find a way out of the quicksand for them both.

Moving slightly, he hit his damaged hand, wincing at the sensation. It was not pain as such, but a feeling of something not being right; wrongness within his body that was forcing every other part of him off kilter. As such, it was almost worse than pain.

Carlisle raised his head at that moment, and following Edward's eye line, frowned at the uncovered limb. Looking at the damage, he sighed. Trust Edward to get himself into such trouble that he would end up being injured.

Shaking his head sadly, he sat them both up. "We should get that hand fixed."

Without a second glance at Edward or waiting for any sort of agreement, Carlisle shifted off the bed and walked to the other side of the room collecting the backpack. Opening the bag, he removed the journals, instruments, bandages, gloves, and lastly, the two remaining pints of blood.

Carlisle looked closely at the bottles and then back at Edward. "No," he murmured to himself and placed the bottles back out of sight.

He would not give the precious nectar to Edward. It would be easier to control his mate's intake (for medical reasons of course) if he fed him himself. Better not to risk the chance of losing or spilling the blood while attempting to feed Edward in his weakened state.

Edward watched as Carlisle reasoned out his decision, catching the fleeting angry thought that Edward did not deserve the wonderful elixir and had not been good enough for Carlisle to be willing to share.

That decision made, Carlisle unwrapped the instrument pouch and laid out the various items. At this point, Edward began to feel the first faint vestiges of fear. It was going to be bad enough without having the procedure performed by an unstable, blood-lusting, abusive sire. Carlisle's clinical manner and thoughts did not bode well for him being gentle and caring throughout the procedure.

Edward struggled to sit up further, not really sure what he was trying to do other than knowing he could not face what was coming lying prone on the bed. Seeing the other struggle, Carlisle moved to help him, pleased that Edward was finally assisting, acting as a mate should, accepting his fate no matter how traumatic it was going to be.

Carlisle turned back to the instruments, humming one of his favourite opera's under his breath.

~*.*~

"CRACK"

The sound reverberated up Edward's arm and out his mouth as a sharp scream. Edward tried to move away as he received in his mind an image of Carlisle's next manipulation. Carlisle clamped down further on Edwards legs and torso while at the same time he proficiently twisted the hand so it was facing in the correct direction.

You know if you had been better behaved and did what I told you, this never would have happened.

The statement was followed by a firm wrench, separating Edward's thumb from the back of his hand, eliciting another scream from the patient.

Pausing, Carlisle looked at his handiwork. Edward's wrist was no longer twisted at 180 degrees and his hand no longer fused to his forearm.

Now you behave while I have a top up of blood. Then you can feed and we will start on the fingers.

Smoothing his hand along Edward's hair and face he shushed the sobbing vampire. "Shh! Shh!" It is going to be alright, I will fix it good as new. Then we can put all this behind us and start again with no more of this nonsense about you working. I mean look at you, Love, you couldn't even last a whole year without completely messing everything up. Now stop crying, this hurts me as much as it does you. I don't need to hear your self-pity while I work.

Carlisle tapped Edward on the cheek and then turned back to the bag and his drug of choice.

Edward struggled to sit back up after the hefty blow Carlisle had delivered. Trying to quiet his distress, lest Carlisle react again in such a way, he closed his eyes and tried to recall the wonderful times between the two of them. It was difficult there and then, with the monster's thoughts and actions drilling into his brain, to remember his kind, compassionate, and beautiful mate.

During Edward's musing, Carlisle had satisfied his addiction and returned to the bed unbuttoning his shirt, the two sets of teeth marks on his chest mute evidence of Edward's previous feeds. Still weak from the procedure and lack of adequate nutrition, Edward could not resist the draw of feeding and scrambled onto Carlisle's lap, quickly attaching to the other's chest.

~*.*~

The cycle continued for another 4 hours – feeding, breaking and re-setting. In many cases it had been necessary for Carlisle to break already repaired digits to ensure that each was in line and correctly positioned. As much as it was his intention that Edward would never publicly perform or teach piano again, Carlisle would always wish for Edward to play for him, and, as such, was conscious that the hand needed to be at its best.

After the second hour, Edward had stopped making any sound. While still conscious (the second-hand human blood he had drunk from Carlisle ensured that) his mind and body were so overwhelmed he had gone into a form of shock. There was no question that he felt everything, he was simply no longer able to react.

He soon became aware of Carlisle bandaging his fingers and hand and slipping the limb into a firm glove. Then, in an act of magnanimous generosity, Carlisle decanted a measure of the remaining bottled blood into a glass, and holding Edward's head, fed him the human blood.

The blood was old and had a slight aftertaste resulting from the anti-coagulants added by the laboratory, but it was pure blood and Edward was grateful for the gesture. This gratefulness quickly dampened when Carlisle lifted his chin and looked into his eyes.

Good. Those eyes will keep you from trying to go anywhere soon.

Edward's shocked look was unnoticed by Carlisle, who had turned to clean up the evidence of the procedure. Carlisle had done it to ensure Edward's continued imprisonment, rather than any thought that his mate might need some sustenance beyond the few mouthfuls Carlisle had provided. While Edward could not starve to death, the lack of sustenance would keep him in a permanent state of weakness and dependence on Carlisle. Bitterly, he realised that it was clearly Carlisle's intention to keep him in a state of utter reliance so there would no future threats in Carlisle's mind to their relationship.

He watched Carlisle clean up and then, whistling a jaunty tune, the older vampire retired to the bathroom where Edward could hear the sounds of Carlisle bathing. Soon his mate emerged from his bath, and drying his hair with a towel, sat on the edge of the bed where Edward remained leaning against the headboard.

Carlisle reached out and brushed Edward's cheek with the back of his hand; it took all of Edward's self-control to resist flinching at the touch. He knew that this being was not truly his Carlisle, but his nerves were frayed and he needed some time to recover from the events of the past week.

Edward leant into Carlisle's touch and whispered, "Love, I am so tired. Can you lay with me? Will you hold me?"

Carlisle's smile was instantaneous and blinding. This was how a mate should behave; he should be loving and attentive but also contrite. "Of course I will, my love!"

Shifting them both down the bed, Carlisle lay on his back, and rolling Edward against his side, rested his mate's head on his chest. Wrapping his arms around Edward, he kissed the other's head.

You rest now. I have you, love. I am here with you. I will never let you stray again.

Trying to ignore the chill that the last thought gave him, Edward buried himself into Carlisle's embrace, taking in his smell and feel whilst trying to ignore Carlisle's growing need for human blood. The last of the bottles had been emptied by Carlisle immediately after the procedure, Edward having to watch the shocking site of his mate breaking open the empty glass bottles and licking out the remains.

Since that moment, the craving to collect more had started and grown with each passing moment. Edward knew it would not be long before Carlisle's thirst drove him back to the hospital and the guilt free human blood supply. He needed to prolong the time before Carlisle left - to provide himself time to regain enough strength to be able to flee during Carlisle's absence.

Edward had decided to head to the Maestro's office. The Maestro had a phone line from which he could make a call to Eleazar and Carmen in New York or even to Italy if he became desperate. Edward also had copies of papers, clothes, and some money stored in his conservatory office – he could use these to get to New York, or even meet Eleazar half way. Carlisle's old friend was Edward's sole hope before he would have to throw at the mercy of the Volturi, an action that had the potential to be disastrous for both of them.

A number of hours passed; Edward could feel the wrongness in his hand seep away and was able to make hesitant movements with his fingers and wrist. Carlisle noticed the movement and stilled it with his hand.

"Don't move it," he warned. "Better you let it rest."

He kissed Edward's forehead before sliding out from beneath his mate. Looking down at the wounded vampire, Carlisle sighed.

We need more blood. I need to go back to the hospital. Animal blood is just not good enough for you at the moment. This is for the best.

Carlisle put on his shoes and coat and picked up the backpack.

Now you stay right there. I will know if you have moved. You have books you can reach.

He nodded to the bedside table where two copies of Carlisle's medical journals lay. Bending over, he kissed Edward lightly on the lips.

I will be home soon, love.

Satisfied that all was as it should be in the lighthouse, Carlisle's thoughts turned to the hunt for his next bottled meal. Initially, he had planned to swim to the mainland; however, on reaching the lake-shore, he decided that he would take Edward's boat, firstly, so he would not have to get wet, but secondly, to ensure that Edward, in his weakened state, would not be silly enough to try to follow Carlisle or attempt to contact anyone else.

Carlisle growled at the latter, Edward should know by now the consequences of betraying him. Edward was lucky that Carlisle loved him so much and was so forgiving that the punishment had not been severe. Docking the boat, Carlisle finally noticed that the coming dawn was bright and clear. He swore in several languages. As desperate as he was for the blood, he would not risk exposure – it might reduce his chances of getting more blood in the future. He had decided that they would stay on the Island as long as practicable; Carlisle would be able to manage Edward's condition, and by restricting his feeding, could also ensure that his mate's movements were limited. It would reduce the opportunity for the mind reader to get into further trouble.

Racing the rising sun, he headed for the old house for shelter where he had access to a phone and clean clothes. On further consideration, he realised that this was a positive situation. He could relax, without the obligation of caring for Edward for a day, and pack the remainder of their things for either relocation to the Island or into storage.

On his arrival at the house, Carlisle removed his jacket. Rolling up his sleeves, he got to work packing up the house. He called the moving company and made arrangements for the collection of those belongings that were going into storage and then contacted the housekeeper, letting her go. Feeling satisfied with his efforts, he bathed and changed into his 'hospital' clothes and sat in 'his' chair. He looked out the window and estimated that he had half an hour until sunset. Just enough time to write in his journal.

Reaching into the backpack he pulled out a book; however, it was not his journal – it was Edward's.

Thumbing the pages, he hesitated for the barest of seconds before opening the journal. To read each other's journals without permission was one of the unwritten rules of their relationship; but as far as Carlisle was concerned, Edward's lack of communication had resulted in their current situation. As Edward's doctor and sire, it was his right to find out what had been going on inside Edward's mind so to truly understand when things had started to go wrong. Additionally, he wished to find out how much the human whore had warped Edward's mind and to see if Carlisle needed to re-condition Edward further.

As he flicked through the entries, he smiled at Edward's excitement of starting life in Oberlin, of taking Carlisle's name again, and his audition. The shock of the job offer and Carlisle's financial assistance to set up the music room were combined with detailed descriptions of the area, his love for his life with Carlisle, and his hope that all of their future lives were in such bliss.

For a moment, Carlisle felt a twinge of something that was vaguely familiar - could it be shame at doubting his mate? Was Edward simply an innocent in all of this, too wrapped up in his life with Carlisle to understand what was happening around him? Was he oblivious, rather than duplicitous?

However, as Carlisle continued to read, the 'others' name started to be mentioned, firstly, in the context of the school and classes. But soon he was referred to, albeit in apparently innocent context, in almost every entry. As the entries progressed, the number of references to William Pearson was only trumped by references to Carlisle; but in some entries the difference in number was not by much.

Carlisle paused at the next entry; the first that focused solely on the young human…

"When I look at William I see myself. Not the me of today – the me of forever – I mean the me of the past, before the illness, before I lost my parents, before the fire, before Carlisle.

This young man who looks at me with such awe, admiration and esteem, his passion for music and his love for his mother come through at every moment.

He is so human. I wonder if I was that alive when I still drew breath. He makes me wonder what my life may have been like if it had not taken this strange path that I share with Carlisle. All of this is speculation, and I would not change my life for anything.

However, I must admit, even if it is only on these pages, my interactions with William Pearson make me ask myself…What If?"

Carlisle took a number of deep breaths, both assured and concerned. He had believed that they had addressed all of Edward's doubts and longing's for his human life. Why would one human trigger this sudden questioning and mourning for the past and his human life. Carlisle had provided Edward everything he ever wanted and more, and he knew that his mate never begrudged Carlisle his generosity…

Then Carlisle turned the page…

WHATEVER IN ALL THAT IS HOLY IS WRONG WITH CARLISLE?

Our anniversary should have been a wonderful time, a time for us to simply enjoy each other, but Carlisle seems to have an ulterior motive, that for the life of me, I cannot reason why. I must admit I love my boat, Elizabeth, and am astounded by his generosity. But for whatever the reason, both her and the lighthouse felt like a bribe. I do not understand why he is so possessive. Bloody hell, that bite mark still twinges; I was lucky he didn't bite my head off. At the time, I was petrified that he might. At the moment I feel like he is becoming a stranger. To be honest, I think it is best that I focus on my work until he is willing to talk to me.

Carlisle sat and dwelt on the passage. He could now confirm his belief that Edward had been hiding from him. The other should have accepted Carlisle's gifts and understood that Carlisle knew that moving Edward to the lighthouse to study and play on his boat would be the best thing for him. Carlisle knew what was best. Edward had ignored him, hidden from him, and look where it got them.

Reading the entry, Carlisle breathed easily, as ungrateful as Edward's words they were focused solely on Carlisle. Maybe some of the lesson from their anniversary at the Island had sunk in and he had drawn away from William Pearson for a while.

However this assurance is soon dashed…

Oh my goodness, William is gay!

I don't know how I didn't pick it up before now, too focused on being his teacher and not his friend. I ache for him and the struggle he goes through hiding who he is. Carlisle and I have each other, but he has no one except for his mother. I feel like I should be a better friend to him - try to help him to find a community to help and support him.

I have decided against telling Carlisle.

"What?" exclaimed Carlisle, before continuing to read...

He has been strangely possessive as it is…to the point that I find myself getting angered every time he questions where I have been, if I have fed, what time am I coming home. It is not as if he wouldn't disappear for days for work without so much as a by or leave. I know that my profession is not in the practice of saving lives (as he informs me regularly). My students and the Maestro depend on me and I am vexed that Carlisle would ask me to forget the lessons he has taught me about being responsible and dependable. But of course, what is good for him is completely different to what is acceptable for me. I really don't know what to do; he will not talk to me, other than to order me around. He won't let me in; I feel like I am blind to both his thoughts and actions.

Carlisle paused; he could not understand how Edward could not see that it was different for them. Carlisle was the responsible mate and sire who knew what was best for his mentally unstable mate. The fact that Edward was questioning Carlisle in his journal showed Carlisle how unstable the mind reader was becoming. No wonder he was taken in as easy prey to the machinations of a young upstart who was clearly looking for his next conquest.

Turning the page, Carlisle noticed that the next entry was the last. This was the entry in the journal written by Edward the morning of the lake trip. Carlisle recalled seeing Edward furiously writing in the journal, ink smudging his fingers in a way that both irritated and amused Carlisle; for someone with a delicate touch on the piano, Edward often wrote like he should have been chiselling stone, particularly when he was excited or passionate about his subject matter.

The thought stopped Carlisle in his tracks. Did that mean Edward had been excited or passionate about the lake trip?

At the time, Edward had told Carlisle he was deeply disappointed that only one student had been able to come, but was determined to that the two of them would still go. Carlisle hadn't realised the student was William Pearson.

Could it have been that Edward had misled Carlisle as to his level of interest in the trip - the trip that triggered everything?

Could it have been that Edward wanted to be alone with the boy? Manipulating Carlisle, so he would not suspect his mate of attempting to commit adultery?

He shook his head violently, no of course not; Edward was an innocent party in all of this. As annoyed as his mate could get with him, he would never betray Carlisle like this. Such an act would be worse than leaving to feed from humans, and if it were true (not that it was, Carlisle was sure), he would have to take firm and drastic actions to ensure that the subject of any infatuations was removed.

But Edward would never…and clinging to that thought, Carlisle returned to the final journal entry…

As disappointed as I am that I will not be able to have the field trip to the lake that I had planned, it has turned out to be an almost ideal situation. My original intention had been for the entire class to join me on Elizabeth for a lesson on music in nature and how we can use those sounds and rhythms in composition and performance. However, for a variety of reasons, Kitty, Philip, and George are unable to participate, leaving just myself and Will.

So much the better!

Instead of spending the day being a teacher to my students, I will be able to relax with my best friend. I feel I have neglected Will over the last couple of weeks; the constant buzzing in my head has not made me the best of company, which combined with Carlisle's overbearing possessiveness, has put me on edge.

Recently, the only times I have felt calm have been when I have been with Will, talking, playing or simply enjoying each other's company. There is a relaxed feel to our relationship with no discomfort or tension. Even when he touches me, there is no sense of inappropriateness, only the interaction of two close friends who require comfort.

I am looking forward to sharing Elizabeth with Will, to show him my favourite places on the lake, to give him an idea of where my music comes from, and to encourage him to find similar places and people from which to draw his inspiration.

He has inspired me with the very humanity I no longer possess. I have yet to share with anyone the piece I am composing. It's drawn from my experiences as a teacher and the joy I have found in my students, especially Will.

I value my friendship with Will more than my music; he and I have bonded in a way that I never thought possible. I am not Edward the serious music teacher, or Carlisle's mentally unstable mate, or Aro's coveted mind reader; I am just me. With him I can be a teenager for a time, goofy and free without responsibility or consequence.

I love that I found him at this time, that I have found a tangible reason as to why there is value in us putting the effort into interacting with humans. He makes me feel human, and I am not sure I will ever want to let that feeling, or him, go.

Today is going to be a perfect day.

Carlisle stopped; then deliberately and methodically tore the journal apart…page by page, feeding each to the fire he had lit earlier. His rage turned inward. There was no explosion, no violent reaction; the destruction of the book was a clear decision of a calm mind.

Now he knew what he had to do. Edward had clearly lost his mind and had to be shown the consequences of his actions. Forgetting his plan to steal more blood, Carlisle calmly tidied up, and after leaving a note for the removalists, exited the house. Locking the front door behind him, he walked away at a slow and even pace as if he was simply taking an evening stroll.

However, the slow and unruffled the movements of his body belied the turmoil in his mind. All reason was gone; Carlisle was functioning on instinct and the singular determination to repair the damage his mate had caused.

There was only one way to return everything back to normal - to return Edward to him. Carlisle finally accepted what he knew he should have done on the street in front of the boy's mother house.

Carlisle must kill William Pearson! And to make sure the lesson was finally learned...Edward Cullen must be there to witness!