A/N: I'd like to throw all kinds of thanks to people this time around. First, to GLee68 and Zoya Zalan, who gave me honest criticism and helped me improve. I hope you both see something more pleasing in this chapter. :)
To RachelxMichelle, DecemberEclipse and AllTheOtherNamesAreUsed, who tweeted me with approval on April 23rd when I asked for opinions on including a towel in this chapter.
To DecemberEclipse, AllTheOtherNamesAreUsed and Nachos4Children who on Thursday helped talk me out of a block with my scene.
It's no wonder so many fanfic people are on Twitter.
Also, to everyone who nominated this story for the Sunflower Awards. Voting starts in May. Hey, it's May!
Finally, again to AllTheOtherNamesAreUsed. As a beta, I can look at someone else's story and easily see the weak areas and suggest how to fix it. Not so much with my own story. I needed someone to point out the obvious for me this time before I could get it working again. Thanks for being that person, and for last minute Twitter-betaing.
~*~ Chapter Eighteen ~*~
Sitting at his desk, Carlisle shut the book he was reading and set it on the antique mahogany. He couldn't rid himself of the feeling that something was amiss. The leather in his chair creaked as he turned in it to look out the window behind him. It was daylight still, though the sunlight was weak in the late afternoon of winter. Nothing Carlisle saw in the trees remedied the sensation that he was missing something.
All of his family members were home; Bella would be at her father's house. Carlisle had hoped that she might come by after school so that he could see how she was doing after last night. Yet, given the circumstances, he wasn't surprised that she chose to spend the afternoon away. Picking up his cell phone, he dialed her house, but had no answer. Carlisle frowned. He was pretty certain that she did not have to work at the video store today. Returning the Blackberry to his hip, Carlisle closed his eyes and thought.
Rosalie, poor tenderhearted and damaged Rosalie. Carlisle could hear her in the computer room, tapping keys on her laptop. He had been excessively angry with her last night, and she had only partially deserved it. Carlisle had allowed his concern for everyone else in the room override what she was revealing about herself. The flashback had been legitimate; he had no doubt about that. If Rosalie was experiencing them now, then she probably had been all along, at least intermittently. Carlisle had returned from bringing Bella home to find Rosalie non-communicative, freezing them all out just as she had in her early days. He hoped to glean some answers from Edward soon, when the opportunity for a private talk arose.
Carlisle turned his head abruptly, attuning his focus to his hearing, the missing element suddenly occurring to him. Rosalie was in the computer room; Maggie and Esme were in their room working on Esme's latest restoration project; Alice and Jasper were in the living room. Carlisle could not hear Edward; he wasn't in the house.
Not sure how he missed noticing Edward leave, Carlisle picked up his Blackberry again, this time dialing Edward. It went straight to voicemail. Either Edward was out of signal range, or his phone was turned off. Realizing that Bella was currently unaccounted for, Carlisle swiftly rose and moved into the living room.
"Alice, where's Edward?" he asked without preamble.
Alice sat with Jasper on the slate blue upholstered couch. Her face had been turned towards him as he walked in, expecting his arrival. "Everything's fine, Carlisle." Her bell-like voice rang out with irrefutable clarity. "Edward is with Bella. They're having a much needed tête-à-tête."
"What do you mean by 'much-needed,' Alice?" Maggie asked, appearing in the living room. Esme was just behind her, bringing with her the faintly pleasant scent of stripping solution. The clicking of Rosalie on her computer still could be heard. Carlisle placed himself in the corresponding chair across from Alice.
"Their relationship with each other is still pretty tentative and unresolved. I don't like it; they should be getting along better than that. We've been crowding Bella when Edward's around. Edward simply had some things that he wanted to say to Bella one-on-one, and I thought he deserved the opportunity."
"You arranged this?" Carlisle asked softly.
"No," Alice shook her cropped hair. "I simply didn't prevent it. I would have, you know, if it wasn't safe."
"I suppose we have been a little unfair to Edward," Esme offered tentatively, moving to rest a hand on Carlisle's arm. "Not that we didn't need to be concerned. I hate to think that one mistake on Edward's part has made this family less sympathetic. You're sure that Bella is all right?"
"Yes," Alice answered easily, settling back into Jasper's arm behind her on the couch. He smiled and kissed the top of her head, causing Alice to snuggle in slightly closer before looking back at Carlisle. "They'll emerge from this as friends."
Carlisle closed his eyes briefly before nodding. Esme had a point. Being at opposition to Edward because of Bella made things divisive within the family, and that was not something he wished. Edward was not a child that needed to be watched, and he deserved the chance to make peace with Bella.
"I don't enjoy not trusting Edward. I feel better knowing that I can. Thank you, Alice." Standing, Carlisle left the living room and went back into his office, not noticing that four pairs of flecked gold eyes followed him.
Carlisle felt better as he stood behind his chair, back to it and facing out into the trees. As long as Bella was safe, Carlisle was fine. Yet, he didn't like not being able to contact her. Taking out his pristine Blackberry, Carlisle turned it over in his hands thoughtfully. Then he drew out a spare SIM card from his desk and sat down to make adjustments to his phone. Once Edward returned, Carlisle would go see Bella.
(~*~)
Bella entered her empty house and tried to shake off the pressure she felt closing in on her. They waited around the next thought bend: subjects she didn't want to explore, memories she didn't want to get into. Why was life suddenly so damn difficult? She'd been happy since Thanksgiving, not knowing that Edward had been crushing on her, that Rosalie wanted to mold her into some sort of Vengeance Queen groupie.
"Would you like me to kill him for you?"
Bella closed her eyes against the expression she could still see on Rosalie's face when she'd uttered those words. Focus, Bella…
Opening her eyes, Bella moved into the kitchen and explored the fridge for that night's dinner. She spent a few content moments juggling potential recipes before Edward crept into her thoughts again. She was surrounded by food, but it was his musk that traced into her nostrils, reminding her of his body above hers.
No, she wasn't going to go there. Settling on making a meat sauce, Bella pulled the package of ground beef out of the refrigerator and started retrieving the necessary vegetables and spices. She loved the smell of them: basil, oregano, even garlic. Yet they didn't erase that other trace.
Why did she think that she could still smell him? She stopped moving. "Edward," Bella said tentatively into the empty house. "You aren't here, are you?"
No answer.
Sighing, Bella shook her head at herself – and caught the whiff of Edward again. What…?
Then it occurred to her. The smell was coming from her clothes. She'd been pressed against him more than once; it must have transferred to her coat and jeans. Why am I still wearing my jacket? Bella thought as she shrugged out of it, making her way to the laundry room. I must really be distracted. Bella dumped her jacket into the hamper. It was time to change over to her winter coat, anyway.
In the kitchen again, Bella chopped, spiced, browned and stirred together a meat sauce before covering it and setting it on low to keep it warm for when Charlie came home, doing her best to stay as mindless as the task. Then, stripping her clothes off in her bedroom, Bella took a shower. Unfortunately, it didn't prove to be the escape from her thoughts that she hoped for. It successfully washed away Edward, but that left Rosalie on her mind: a montage of floating sentences as Bella washed.
"One of your attackers has just been released from jail."
"Didn't Cliff intend to rape our Bella that night?"
"Would you like me to kill him for you?"
Bella's eyes were squeezed tight, fighting tears as the sentences became paired with images, her own mixed with Rosalie's.
"Anchoring with his other hand, Royce pulls back on my wrist. There is a loud snap and pain runs up my arm and into my eyes, blinding me. I scream."
His hand squeezed harder around her wrist. Bella let out an involuntary grunt of pain. "You're such a small thing, you know. Nice tiny wrists I can wrap my fingers around."
"'Take it, Rose; you were made for this.'"
The man in front of Bella moved closer, his eyes anticipating as he reached a hand up to cup her breast.
"Would you like me to kill him for you?"
"Stop," Bella said aloud. She turned in the shower, letting the water pour onto her head. She breathed heavily for a couple of seconds, chest rising and falling. Rosalie understood her better than Bella'd thought. She turned the water off.
Bella had always believed in the system, never had any reason to question it. She'd never had any reason to feel personally involved in it before either. Imprisonment was still better than death, wasn't it? It protected the public from further crimes, at least temporarily, and allowed for the possibility of rehabilitation. Thus preventing crimes indefinitely. Death was just… cessation, the end of a life.
Bella wrapped the faded towel hanging on the hook around herself. Imprisonment was more than just prevention. It was being shut away, kept from actually living your own life. The words of Saint Joan came vaguely back to Bella – something about the inhumanity of being shut away from the sun. Where was that book? Not knowing why it felt so urgent, Bella moved quickly into her bedroom, searching until she found her copy of George Bernard Shaw's play. It was a used copy, and Bella stopped rushing to run her fingers over the cover. She'd bought this book that night in Port Angeles.
Letting that go, Bella flipped through the pages until she found the quote that she was looking for. She read it to herself more than once, searching for whatever meaning had driven her to seek it out. "To shut me from the light of the sky and the sight of the fields and flowers; to chain my feet so that I can never again… climb the hills. ...If only I could still hear the wind in the trees… But without these things I cannot live."
Bella lowered the book. Imprisonment was a punishment. Even though today inmates were not denied the light of the sky, it was still a denial to live. Joan of Arc had chosen death. Right before giving this speech in the play, Joan had confessed to witchcraft, misled to believe that she'd be set free. The judges then sentenced her to be "set free" from the danger of punishment by fire, but still to remain in perpetual imprisonment for her sins against God. Joan of Arc had torn up her confession and chosen the fire.
Yet what did this mean to Bella? It said both that incarceration was a punishment and death was the better thing. Not to mention that Joan had been innocent, not a criminal at all. So was death better only if you were innocent? That didn't make sense. Edward and Rosalie never killed innocents; Bella knew that for certain from Carlisle.
Bella almost wished that she had Carlisle there to talk to right then. He'd easily help her interpret the duality she was getting from Saint Joan. Or maybe Bella was just projecting onto the quote, seeing conflicting meanings because she was feeling conflicted. Bella wasn't sure she wanted to discuss that yet, even with Carlisle. Rosalie's words, her own memories and Edward's warning had shaken her, and Bella wasn't sure what she believed anymore.
The knock on the door surprised her. Bella dropped the book and looked out her window, angling to see the driveway and road. There was a black Mercedes parked outside the house. Carlisle was here.
Bella rushed down the stairs and swung the door open widely, speaking as she did so. "Carlisle, what are you doing here?"
Carlisle stood on the doorstep, dressed in slacks and a black wool coat that was unzipped to reveal his button-down shirt. The undone collar was visible underneath his gray scarf. Even as Bella took this all in, she noticed that he was eying her much more intensely. Carlisle's eyes moved from her face, down her body and back up to make eye contact with her again. Surprise soon gave way to amusement, and he gave her a slow smile. "Did I arrive at a bad time?"
The chill of the air didn't keep Bella's cheeks from burning as she realized that she stood in front of Carlisle, wet and wearing only a pale red towel. "Oh, my God." She backed up, clutching the towel to her chest. "Come in, sit down. I'll be right back!" she called as she ran up the stairs again. Carlisle's soft laughter followed her up.
When she reemerged in the living room, clad in a new pair of jeans and layered tees, Carlisle was still grinning. "Do you answer the door like that for everyone, or was it a surprise reserved just for me?"
Bella plopped down next to him on the couch, her long wet hair bouncing with the motion. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I'm lucky it was you at the door."
"And not the pizza delivery boy?" Carlisle's smile shone, and it made Bella feel better than she had all day.
"No, I'm making dinner tonight. Wait, hold on." Bella rushed out again to stir the meat sauce. It had begun to stick a little to the bottom of the pan, since Bella had taken longer than she'd intended. Setting the spoon down again, Bella returned to her seat beside Carlisle on the couch. She sighed slowly as she looked at him, and he raised his hand to touch her cheek.
"How are you?" he asked.
Bella cast her eyes downward. "I don't really know." A lot had happened to her since last night, and while she knew that Carlisle was willing to be supportive, she just wasn't completely ready to go into all of it.
Carlisle's hand softly moved down her cheek to lift her chin. His eyes met hers. "You know I'm here for you whenever you need me."
"Yes." Bella smiled. "I was thinking about you, actually, right before you showed up. Do you know Bernard Shaw's Saint Joan?" Bella continued at Carlisle's nod, completely missing his initial glance at her wet hair. "He's written Joan choosing death over imprisonment as being less inhumane. That confuses me."
"Imprisonment was very different back then. It certainly was less humane than it is now. Joan as a historical personality was pretty extreme. It makes sense that she would choose death."
"It makes sense to me, too, which is why I'm confused." Bella shook her head, the weight settling on her shoulders again. "Death isn't supposed to be the better thing."
"Ah, I see," Carlisle said softly. Sliding closer to her on the couch, his right thigh just barely touching her left, Carlisle grasped Bella's hand. She had leaned her head forward, and some of her wet hair fell in front of her face. Carlisle stroked it back, and Bella turned her head to look at him. "Rosalie's story was intense last night, especially for you. I can't tell you how to feel, Bella. You have to figure that out yourself, and it may take some time."
"Am I allowed that time?" Breaking their thigh contact, Bella turned in toward him on the couch, pulling her leg underneath her. "Could Rosalie do something drastic while I wait? Could other people get hurt because I told Rosalie not to kill him?" Her hand gripped his, demanding answers. "I mean, it's not like I can call up the cops and say: that man tried to rape me nine months ago. I know who he is because my vampire best friend is clairvoyant. Even if I could say something, it would just be my word against his. It's either let Rosalie kill him or let him live to hurt someone else."
"That is not a burden for you to bear, Bella. Do not let Rosalie make you think that this man's life is in your hands."
"Isn't it? Wouldn't he be dead if I'd said yes? Doesn't he live now because I said no? How is that not in my hands?"
"Bella," Carlisle said, making her meet his eyes. "I have no doubt that Rosalie will continue to monitor him. She'll intervene before he hurts someone again."
"How can you trust that, Carlisle? You didn't even realize that's she's been frozen into a permanent case of Post-Traumatic Stress. I don't think that I can trust Rosalie to do or not do anything."
Carlisle let go of Bella, leaning away from her. "I admit I hadn't realized the extent of her issues, but I do know her character. Knowing how much she hurts shows me how strong her will is. I can trust her actions here. Even if I am responsible for damning her into this continuous circle of pain."
"What? Carlisle, no." Realizing her mistake, Bella placed her hands on either side of Carlisle's face. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean that at all." She took a slow breath and pressed her forehead against his. "Please don't think that. Please don't blame yourself."
Carlisle hesitated, bringing his hands up to covers hers. His warming hands held them in place for a moment before he lowered them and gave her a wry smile. "We're a couple of sad creatures, sitting here uselessly feeling blame. How about for tonight we don't hold ourselves accountable for Rosalie?"
Relieved, Bella smiled, and settled into the back of the couch. She leaned into Carlisle when he placed an arm behind her. "I can agree to that." Closing her eyes, Bella allowed herself to just let go, to feel nothing but Carlisle's soothing presence at her side.
There was a moment of comfortable silence before Carlisle spoke again. "I understand that you spent some time with Edward this afternoon."
"Yeah. I did." Bella looked up, remembering what Edward had said about not the family not wanting them alone together. "Is he in trouble? 'Cause I'm fine. It was fine; I'm fine." Bella's tongue almost tripped over itself in the rush to get the words out.
"Yes, I see that you are." There was a touch of laughter in Carlisle's voice and his brilliant eyes caught hers. "Are you asking if I grounded him?"
Bella's smile was a little cautious, and then became bright. "Did you tell him no piano for a week?"
"Send him to bed without supper?" Carlisle volleyed back with a chuckle.
"Take away his cell phone?"
"Interesting that you should bring that up." Leaning forward, Carlisle used his free left hand to unhook a Blackberry from his hip.
Bella's eyes widened slightly. "You didn't seriously take his phone away?"
"No," Carlisle smiled and held the PDA out to Bella. She took it hesitantly. "This is for you."
"For me?"
"Consider it an early Christmas present. It's already programmed with the numbers of everyone in my family, as well as your father's house and the video store. I'm afraid I didn't know the numbers for your friends Jessica and Angela, or I would have put them in, too."
"Wow. Um, thank you." Bella looked back and forth between the very expensive phone in her hands and Carlisle, obviously dumbfounded. "Why are you giving this to me now, and not at Christmas?"
"Would you rather wait?"
"No, I'm just curious."
Carlisle's eyes softened, and again he stroked back some hair that had fallen in front of Bella's face. "I was worried about you today. After I learned that you were with Edward this afternoon, I didn't like not being able to reach you. So the phone is yours, today, if you'll accept it."
Bella warmed inside, inexplicably pleased at this token of Carlisle's affection. "I will. Thank you." Bella leaned in to kiss Carlisle's cheek as she had done many times before, but then the memory of what had happened last time she made such a gesture flashed. She paused before her lips reached Carlisle, and felt him notice her hesitation. For a moment, their faces hovered close together. Bella could almost feel the delicious scent of him, a weaving of books, nighttime and mulled cider, touching her skin.
"Bella?"
Bella drew back sharply, pulling completely away from Carlisle. "Sorry. Um, I-"
She caught the hurt in his expression before he swiftly stood up and moved away from the couch, standing across the living room from her in less than a second. Bella was confused until she heard the sound of Charlie's car coming up the driveway. Awkwardly she sat up straight, her hands flying to her hair reflexively. The phone slipped and Bella fumbled to catch it before it hit the floor.
When Charlie walked in looking around, he saw Carlisle standing on one side of his living room, while Bella was on all fours in front of the couch. She sat up clutching something silver in her hand.
"Dr. Cullen," Charlie said. His eyes shifted between the two of them curiously.
"Chief Swan," Carlisle nodded at Bella's father. "Please forgive my unexpected appearance in your home. I was just dropping off an early Christmas present for Bella."
Bella looked up from her position on the floor. There was a contrast in Carlisle; he seemed a tad more formal. Was it only because her father was home, and Carlisle couldn't relax as easily when maintaining the façade of human doctor? Or did it have something to do with the hurt she'd seen before Charlie walked through the door? Bella's stomach wasn't quite easy.
"Christmas present?"
Carlisle gestured to the PDA in Bella's hand as she scrambled onto her feet. "The opportunity for an upgrade came along," Carlisle fibbed, "and I decided to add Bella onto my family plan. It's no great additional expense and I thought that she could use a cell phone. I'm sorry; I guess I should have asked your permission first. It was very thoughtless of me to not consider whether you thought it was appropriate."
Bella wanted to protest her independence, but remained quiet.
Charlie scratched the back of his head. "Bella's eighteen; she doesn't need my permission to have a cell phone." He gestured to Bella with his chin. "May I have a look at it?"
"Sure, Dad," Bella passed it to Charlie, who turned it over a few times.
"Pretty fancy," he said.
Carlisle smiled smoothly. "An indulgence on my part. Something we have a tendency to do in my family."
Charlie handed the phone back to his daughter. "Make sure I get the number off of that, Bells. Is something cooking?"
"Meat sauce."
"I'd best be on my way." Carlisle stepped forward, and Bella felt her untrustworthy stomach drop to her feet. "I have some paperwork to get done before my shift in the ER starts."
"You're welcome to stay for dinner, Dr. Cullen. Bella's not a bad cook."
"I have no doubt that she is an excellent cook, but thank you, not tonight," Carlisle refused graciously as he made his way to the door. "You have a good evening, Chief."
Carlisle turned back to Bella, and she faced him expectantly. "Bella, since you're reading Saint Joan right now, you might want to look over the author's preface. I think you'll find it interesting."
Bella bobbed her head. "Okay. Thanks." Inwardly, Bella chastised herself for being disappointed. What exactly were you hoping for him to say?
With a nod of acknowledgement to both Charlie and Bella, Carlisle left.
Hands on his back, Charlie looked at Bella. She looked back at him. There was a beat before she started laughing lightly. "C'mon, Dad, lets go boil some pasta."
Following her into the kitchen, Charlie kept the mood light. "I'll say it again, you're not taking him to the prom, kid."
When dinner was over, Bella looked over George Bernard Shaw's preface. "There are no villains in the piece. Crime, like disease, is not interesting: it is something to be done away with by general consent and that is all about it. It is what men do at their best, with good intentions, and what normal men and women find they must and will do in spite of their intentions, that really concern us."
Bella did a lot of thinking before and after she turned out her light.
(~*~)
Once Charlie was certain that Bella had gone to bed for the night, he got up and went into his closet. Moving aside some boxes on the shelf, Charlie got down a small box wrapped in seasonal red and green. Undoing the paper and gently tossing it into his trashcan, Charlie set the simple Motorola phone on his desk. Out of a drawer he dug out the receipt and set it on top of the box.
A/N: Let's hear it for Charlie! There's a O/S contest going on called Strictly Charlie that is still accepting admissions. Check it out! :)
So, a question to you readers. I love that you're all so excited when I update and make sure that I know it. So my question is what is it about the world of "Moonlit" that makes you so happy to step back into it? What makes it work for you? :)
Thank you so very much for reading.
Next Chapter... let's find out a little bit more about what was going on in Carlisle and Bella's heads... and the bumped Rosalie/Bella scene will take place.