Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer

AN (1): To all of my readers, reviews and friends I thank you, for your continued support. This will be the second last main chapter the last will then be followed by an epilogue.

AN(2): While unplanned Jealousy has become the first of a Trilogy, the second being Recrortus. I have planned to write the third story, but had hoped to get an idea of any interest before I decide to do that, or start on another project :-)

AN (2): Please note that this chapter has been neither pre-read or beta'd, so all poor grammar is my own.

Edward was numb! He felt nothing! His mind was eerily quiet, unconscious to the thoughts of others and he fleetingly wondered if this was what it was to have a normal mind. Quiet! Alone!

He felt alone!

Carlisle had hidden things from him…again! While he had been trying to fit into his new role, to understand and help Carlisle with his struggles; Carlisle had hidden from him, had thrown all of Edwards sacrifice and effort back into his face.

Through his clandestine activities Carlisle had sent the couple backwards, his trust and faith in Carlisle was for naught. After this Edward was not sure he would ever be able to completely trust Carlisle.

It was not as if Edward was not aware of the power of the vampire within, his time away from Carlisle feeding on humans and living for the hunt had given him an insight to the demon which Carlisle had never fully embraced before the events at Oberlin.

Edward was devastated at the death of William Pearson, the young man had been his friend; the closest human friend he ever had, in either his human or vampire lives.

He was not stupid! The moment the events at Oberlin came to a head, indeed the moment that the unwelcome kiss was forced upon him, Edward knew that Williams days were numbered.

He had held out a faint hope that if he and Carlisle were good and laid low Aro might not be concerned with William; however Edward knew Aro did not like loose ends, he also liked to provide lessons and make an example of people.

Edward understood why Aro had waited so long. It was to lull him into a false sense of security, to boost any hope that Edward had harboured and then, at a time when things were most settled, most relaxed, the time where they were being the most compliant; Aro struck like the snake.

Thus Aro ensured that the lesson would have its greatest effect, the trauma the most acute and to remind all that heard that they should never assume that they are not watched, that their every comings and goings are under the scrutiny of the Volturi.

It was not however the death of William Pearson that made him run, nor was it the proof that Carlisle was a true vampire, it was that he had been blindsided, not only be Aro but by Carlisle.

Edward had done everything that had been asked of him; he had played the good little vampire, learned his lessons and taken his punishment without complaint.

But for now at this time and place, he was not going to obey. There were no real probable repercussions of his absconding, Carlisle was now the prodigal son and Aro would never risk Edward; so other than feeding from a human in broad daylight (and Edward could never consider going that far), he could pretty much do anything.

It was with that in mind that he found himself standing in the middle of the burned out ruins of their lighthouse at Middle Island.

Carlisle had told him about having set the building alight. Edward had assumed that the wreckage would have dispersed over the years, but standing there it was clear that no one had visited the site since and he wondered if anyone, on either mainland, was aware of the destruction of the non-working lighthouse.

Walking through what had been the main living space, he kicked aside the damp and blackened debris, until his foot struck something with a clunk. Bending down, he brushed off the covering layer to find underneath a blackened medical surgical case.

Opening the case, he drew a shuddering breath at the sight of the instruments that Carlisle had used to 'repair' his hand. Ghostly twinges of pain caused him to involuntary flex and relax the hand. While he knew that there was no long term physical consequences from the injury and repair, the sight of the implements made him feel as if they once again entered his flesh.

He paused for a moment in the centre of the destruction before the pressure of the past began to close in on him. Rapidly leaving the rubble he found himself walking, seemingly without direction, until he came across a flock of birds; the same flock of birds who had unwittingly aided his escape from the island.

He sat still and watched the birds, so completely engrossed in the animals he was unaware of time passing. Eventually a gnawing thirst grabbed his attention, enough for him to stand, bid a silent farewell to his old prey and head back to the boat.

Once away he sailed toward the old boat shed and was pleasantly surprised at the condition of the building. His surprise turned into suspicion when he opened the double doors to find that the inside had been refurbished, including a top of the range slip ramp specifically designed for Eleazar's speedboat.

Edward was not surprised that Eleazar had been back to Oberlin since the day they left, indeed he was annoyed at himself at being surprised that the elder had maintained an awareness of events on the ground. Stowing the speedboat safely Edward decided to feed before making any further advance into his past.

It was during his post feed recovery that he became aware of the 'voice'. This was not the random thoughts of others, but a clearly distinct 'monologue' the aim of which appeared to be to keep him company.

As he walked into Oberlin he found himself conversing aloud with the voice, the conversation was diverse in content and at no time mentioned his presence in the town, nor his intentions.

Edward was not stupid; he knew that his vague companion was either an agent of Aro or Eleazar, or possibly both.

So it was not a surprise when, as if out of nowhere, Demetri of the Volturi guard matched stride with him; continuing their conversation as if they have been walking side by side the entire time.

As they entered the town boundary Demetri stopped, reaching out a hand to restrain Edward.

"I am not here to stop you, but I am here to follow you," he advised. "It is your choice as to whether I walk with you or follow behind; but I must make it clear my orders are specific and I will not leave you alone."

Edward nodded, "I understand." He paused before continuing, "I must admit, it would be good to have the company."

Edward liked Demetri; he was highly intelligent and respected amongst their kind. He also had a wicked sense of humour which both embarrassed and amused Edward.

First Edward led the Demetri to the conservatory. Wandering around the building that had been his workplace and second home in Oberlin, he noted that the classroom had been turned into a formal concert room, his office a practice space and the Maestro's office a storeroom.

At his raised eyebrow, Demetri explained that after the Maestro's death both staff and students had been uncomfortable working in the office and the room had been left to the boxes.

There was no longer a space in the conservatory that reminded Edward of his time there; his class and their time there had been erased.

Standing in the now storeroom, Edward tried to get a feeling of the way it had been in the past; to see once again the room in which he had many educational and entertaining conversations with his human mentor and friend. The room where he had confronted the Maestro and where his world had begun to collapse as the lies started to unravel.

Switching on the light Edward noticed a framed photograph on the inside wall. It was a photograph from the night of the "gala". The night where Carlisle had come reluctantly and had eventually butt heads with the Maestro over Edward.

At the time they had supposed the Maestro was an over enthusiastic elderly educator who wanted to expand the knowledge and experience of his young tutor; little knowing that his interference was on the orders of Volturi to test his and Carlisle's relationship.

Well it had been tested! Aro had been highly entertained but even he could have not foreseen that the situation would barrel out of control and everything would eventually go to hell.

Shaking his head in an attempt to dislodge thoughts and memories that would never leave him, Edward focused on the contents of the frame.

The dusty photograph was of himself, the Maestro and the three students that had performed at the Hospital Gala; including William Pearson.

Reaching up he gently removed the frame from the wall. Wiping the dust from the glass, he stared at the group. It seemed to be an age away; those five happy people were long gone. The time in which they lived was a time forgotten; and for at least one of them that evening was the moment in which the clock started on the remainder of their live.

He felt an overwhelming desire to keep the picture. For reasons that he could even explain to himself, he needed the physical object to truly remind him of the joy that he had for a time; before Oberlin became a place of death and pain.

Edward looked at Demetri in question, who shrugged his shoulders.

Taking that as an affirmative, Edward wrapped the frame in a piece of brown paper in the storeroom. Without as much as a second glance he left the room; walking out of the conservatory for the last time.

It was getting dark as Edward lead Demetri past the hospital towards the Pearson home. On realising where his young friend was heading, Demetri placed a gentle hand on Edwards arm, causing him to pause and turn, giving Demetri his full attention.

"Please let me explain that the house you are about to see is how I came across it, we did not do anything to the house or owner," Demetri's voice was filled with sincerity and his mind pleading for Edward to believe him.

"Is Mary Pearson…?" Edward stopped, he felt like he couldn't breathe. He had hoped to speak with her, apologise for failing to protect her son, to admit that he had had feelings for the boy, and had circumstances been different it was likely those feelings would have grown to something more.

"Can we..?" Demetri indicated that they should proceed in the direction of the house. Edward followed, watching Demetri carefully.

Demetri continued, "Edward I am not sure why you were not told, but upon receiving the telegram of her son's death, Mary Pearson became inconsolable. The night that her sons body was buried she vandalised her home before attempting to take her own life; slicing open the veins in both her wrists. She was found unconscious on William's grave with barely a breath in her."

Edward stared as Demetri continued with the sad tale, "Personally I think it might have been kinder to let her join her son, instead they were able to revive her, only to find that her mind was gone. She now lives permanently in the past and what little she says involves stories of her son, his music and queries as to where his is."

Demetri's voice stilled as they came upon the Pearson home. If Edward thought that this journey could not hold any more shocks; Demetri's words combined with the sight of the house dispelled that delusion.

The house looked like it had been torn apart from within. Clearly Mary Pearson had decided to take her home with her into oblivion; with signs of damage, flooding and fire.

He stared at the house trying to ignore the blood, most likely from Mary's self-inflicted wounds, which had been smeared around the building. This was no longer the home that William and Mary Pearson had been proud of.

Staring at the damage, Edward realised something. The damage was recent; this did not happen in some vague past, but very much in the present.

Edward stared at Demetri in shock, he had never asked the question, had not even read the date on the telegram.

Edward cleared his throat, "When?" He had not asked for the timeline of William's death, never thought to ask exactly where William had died. He had assumed the boy was killed a time ago in France or some other field of war in Europe.

He pleaded with Demetri, "I just want to know when. I do not want to know where or how he died, I don't need that and appreciate that you do not bring those thoughts to the surface."

Demetri put his hand on Edwards arm in sympathy and reassurance, "I cannot tell you what I do not know. I am not here to torture you further Edward, but to guide you, help you, and if I am to be honest, take care of you and make sure you return to Eleazar's custody."

Edward was momentarily bemused that there was no reference to Carlisle, before remembering that at the moment he was responsible to Eleazar not Carlisle. It was then it struck him, "Aro didn't send you to watch me, Eleazar did!"

Demetri squeezed Edwards arm. In that one moment everything shifted, Edward felt that he had permission to let his guard down.

Clearing his throat he returned to the subject at hand, "When did William die? When did they return his body home?"

Demetri looked at the remains of the house, back to Edward and then spoke gently. "Edward! William's funeral was last Saturday."

Edward felt as if he had been punched in the chest, his breath taken from him.

Six days, it had been only six days since the young man was buried.

How long had he been dead? How long since he had been murdered in retribution and as a punishment for the Cullen's?

Demetri had already told him that he did not know the details and Edward believed him. These were questions for another time, place and person. For now he had to catch up with the fact that these events were not the distant past, but very much in the present.

Edward took a step forward, making to go into the house. Demetri placed a hand on his shoulder but quickly removed it at the fierce look Edward gave him. Shrugging to himself Demetri followed Edward as he carefully picked through the debris and entered what was left of the house.

Walking through the ravaged building Edward could hardly believe that one grief stricken mother could have wrought so much damage. There was nothing that had not been smashed. Ducking into the small room that had been William's domain Edward looked at the meagre possessions that were the remainders of his friends' life. It was desperately unfair that a person as talented, kind and wonderful as William Pearson had not had the opportunity to make his mark on the world.

His eyes stopped at the bedside table upon which a book lay. On top of the book was a pair of wire rimmed glasses. The glasses that William hated to wear, but had accepted that they were necessary to read.

Edward was a little surprised that the glasses had been left behind. Had the young man packed so speedily that he forgot them, or had he decided that his war duties would limit his need for close work.

Picking up the glasses, Edward was able to have a better look at the book. He was shocked to find that it was the copy of 'Stories of Great Musicians' that Edward had given William for his birthday. Opening the cover he read the two inscriptions.

...

To my son Edward,

for faithful practice.

Your loving mother Elizabeth

June 1910

...

To William,

for inspiration

Yours Edward Cullen

April 1928

...

The book was something he treasured from his short human life. It was given to him by his mother as she helped guide his musical talent. He had felt that it was only fitting to share the book with his most promising student and best friend.

Staring at the objects he saw them differently than he had before. He realised that, on retrospect, the gift was likely one of things that had raised Carlisle's suspicions. If he was truly honest with himself Edward could see that, consciously or unconsciously, he had given reason for those suspicions.

Wrapping both the book and glasses in a cotton shirt hanging behind the door, the scent of the young man wafting off it when Edward lay it flat to safely hold the items. Exiting the room he continued; walking out of the house without taking a backwards glance.

The evening gloom pressed heavily on his mood, he had not fully understood what had drawn him back to Oberlin but what he had found was not providing him with the closure he would have expected.

While scavenging through the past, he had found himself collecting trophies, reminders of things he would never forget. While he could not cognise why it was important to him, he just knew that it was.

However what he needed the most would not come from a container or picture or book; he knew what he needed and he knew where to go for it.

He walked calmly, but with purpose, completely ignoring his companion who he assumed had followed him from the Pearson home. His direction was of little secret as he retraced the path he had taken many times between William's home and Carlisle's hospital.

He became aware of Demetri's concerns as they drew near the medical building, but before Demetri could voice his concerns, Edward spoke.

"I have to see her."