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Carlisle and Esme: How the Love Story Began

Transformation

May 9

Day 1

EPOV

It's over. Done.

I had heard stories about near death experiences. People described things like floating above their body, a tunnel and a bright light. A deep feeling of welcoming peace.

But even in death, things just weren't going right for me. No floating, no light, no sensation of peace. Just a black void. I could not feel my body or sense anything around me, only vague somewhat cohesive thoughts in my mind. Was this all there was to death – nothingness?

I wasn't sure when I began having coherent thoughts. For a while there were just flashes of moments, like snapshots. I remembered falling into darkness and brief, but overwhelming, pain. Then sounds: crashing water, people screaming, sirens, voices surrounding me. I now grasped at those bits and pieces and tried to fit them together. In that instant, I remembered a voice. A very specific voice. It was soothing, almost angelic. It had spoken my name. My name had never sounded so beautiful! A sense of calm washed over me. In that moment of peace and hope for salvation, I had a vision.

I saw him again – my guardian angel. So heavenly and beautiful, just as I had remembered him. I always knew he would come for me. I felt something that had been absent in my life for so long, something I had long given up: hope. I clung to it and I let go of this world, praying God would allow me an eternity with the angel at my side. My last wish.

But just as I began to embrace my death, something went dreadfully wrong. Pain returned. And it was growing, spreading through my body like an infection. My mind finally put a label on it: fire. I was burning. The flames consumed me as they moved down my neck, branching off to my arms and continuing down my back. But here they paused, leaving me to slowly roast in their merciless grip.

Reality of it hit me like a stinging slap in the face: I was in hell.

I had intentionally taken my life and my punishment for this deed was swift. God had granted me a brief glimpse of the heaven that could have been mine—an eternity with my angel. But in committing the ultimate sin, I had lost it all.

My mind grasped another label: fear. Was I to feel my body burn slowly, eternally while my mind replayed the vision of the angel I had forsaken? Yes, hell was in every sense, agony.

The fire slowly resumed its blazing course down my back and to my legs. I could feel my whole body twisting, but I was still blind, deaf and mute. I longed to cry out. I wanted to beg for mercy. Please God, please, make it stop!

May 10

Day 2

CPOV

It was incredible and horrifying at the same time. The healing power of venom amazed me as I watched Esme's transformation. I could hear her spine mending! Yet with that came the realization the reconnection of her nerves would allow sensations of pain to travel to her lower body. All of her would be consumed with the fire of war between life and death. I knew death would win. And in death, she would find immortality. All I could do was pray the morphine I administered would dull some of the pain. I wanted to make this transition easier for her than it was for Edward. But administering medication before her change was nothing more than an experiment on a hapless victim by a desperate doctor. I tried to assuage my guilt through observation: since she was not writhing in pain, my attempt had worked.

I spoke to Esme calming tones. I tried to explain. Explain what was happening to her. Why I did this to her. But my excuses often trailed off into incoherent words. I was so convinced and set in my course of action yesterday, but now I questioned my motives. I believed I was changing Esme for her own good. Hell, I even was convinced I did it for the benefit of this world. How grand of me. I even considered that I did this for Edward. After losing his mother, he must miss the nurturing and love only a woman can provide. But after gazing on her lovely face, so quiet and innocent, I was faced with what I had tried to deny: Had I done it for my own benefit? Did I remember her scent so well because it had called to me all those years ago? Could there be a greater meaning to us finding each other again in this tiny community? Could there possible be more to this than coincidence?

Or was I greedy, still grasping in the dark at the void I still felt inside my soul. What was I still missing? Once Edward came into my life, I knew I felt love for him. For the first time in my existence, I felt love. It was a wonderful feeling. Yet, it makes you do and say things you'd never even thought of before. To want someone's happiness more than your own both freed me and held me captive. It defies logic.

But at the same time, I finally felt I understood the reactions of my patients' loved ones. I had truly developed empathy. I could comprehend their feelings of elation at good news and emotional devastation with bad news. I'd seen men and women weep so bitterly for their dying spouse. To me this reaction seemed illogical. Did they not realize this was inevitable? Human life is fragile and ultimately finite. But still they cry, even after a whole lifetime together. But now I can conclude that true love must grow and change throughout its course. It appears to sustain the couple who share it.

Yes, love was a powerful emotion. More powerful than hate, envy, desire or lust. Love becomes everything.

After all this time, could I ever hope to find such a love? Had I proven myself worthy of something so good?

"Yes, of course, Carlisle."

I hadn't sensed Edward's appearance in the small bedroom and his words startled me. For the first time in hours, I took my eyes off of Esme's still form. I allowed them to close tightly; "thank you, my son" was my wordless reply.

Edward had been keeping his distance. My woeful thoughts were undoubtedly grating on his nerves.

He spoke again, "I have decided consoling you will have no effect. Therefore, I shall appeal to your sense of logic. You implicitly trust the decisions you make as a physician. Why can't you trust in yourself as a person? The choices made with the heart can often be just as legitimate as the choices made in the mind."

"Edward, maybe you should consider a career in philosophy! Thank you for your kind words. I know beating myself up over this is not the answer. I just hope I will be able to make it right."

"Carlisle, look!" Edward gasped and pointed.

I snapped my attention to where Edward was pointing. Before my eyes I watch Esme's leg bones mend themselves. The muscles, ligaments, tendons and vessels silently weaved together around the mended bones. Slowly her skin closed over the miracle I had just witnessed.

May 11

Day 3

EPOV

Voices. I can hear them now. Very near, but unclear. What are they saying? After what endless incinerating, I held little hope the voices were benevolent. Were they here to pass judgment? To persecute me further? Could I find my voice and reason with them? Please! Please! I willed myself to speak. I am sorry! Forgive my transgressions…

I wanted to truly feel repentant, but in honestly I was desperate for the pain to stop.

I was weeping now in the darkness. The voices abruptly stopped, but I sense someone was still present.

Reach out to them! I thought as my sluggish mind formed the plan. My brain worked to put the plan into action. I felt my fingers flex.

At first I relished the fact I had begun to move my body. My head, arms, legs, and toes soon followed suit. But then I came to realize the uncontrolled, uncoordinated writing motion of my body only augmented the burning. I continued to call out. Sometimes my calls seemed to make the voices respond. But I could not understand them.

Though my mind was working more clearly and efficiently at forming ideas, I found this too only added to my agony. I had so many questions. What was to become of me? Was time passing? Who or what was present here with me?

But none of my thoughts could distract me from my pain; it just seemed there was more room in my head to ponder more things simultaneously. Eventually I discovered another part of me that waited silently, warily anticipating. A part of me was curious. And part was cautious, defensive, almost primal…

A sudden pounding caught all of my attention. The sound boomed like the beating of a hundred hearts in my chest. It grew in size and echoed off `my ribs, pulling the flames to it – devouring them for its source of energy.

"Esme, it's almost over. Your pain will end soon. I am here with you. Do not be afraid."

I heard the words clearly. My guardian angel - still here through all my pain and suffering? Watching over me…

Then I felt it. Something cold touched my face. Softly, almost like a caress, it swept across my forehead and down my cheek. I knew I was being comforted.

All was still.

Quiet.

Painless.

My eyes flew open.

In that instant, I knew nothing was the same. Mostly because nothing looked the same. Though my surroundings were not familiar, that was not what attracted my attention. My eyes first focused on the light streaming in from a small window across the room. It was sunlight like I'd never seen before. I could see the whole spectrum of color in the beams of light. I saw them all: red, orange, yellow, blue, green, indigo (a beautiful color I had never seen before!) and violet. As part of my brain processed the mesmerizing sight, it seemed another part was processing every detail of the room simultaneously. All the sounds, smells and sights poured in at once.

Then I reacted.

In a flash, I can't conceive how, I was crouched in the corner of the room facing what my mind told me was a potential threat – the other being in the room. Red clouded my vision and I felt my muscles tense with anticipation. I functioned on instincts alone.

What I recognized next stunned and scared me. It was my angel! Sitting across the room! Here with me! He sat perfectly still with a mixture of emotions in his golden eyes. I saw fear, curiosity and….compassion.

But what was he doing in my hell? And why didn't he help me when I called out? Things did not add up. I needed answers.

"Where am I?" I asked hesitantly as I pressed my back into the wall behind me.

This was definitely the most important question: If it wasn't hell, I could deal with anything else!

"Esme,"

Oh! He spoke my name again!

"I know this is all very disorienting. Please, let me explain."

He spoke calmly and raised his hands up in a type of surrendering motion. He stood and approached me slowly. He appeared…afraid. Of me? No one has ever been afraid of me. Why would he be afraid?

"Are you an angel?" I blurted out. It felt silly to say, but after what I had just experienced, I was convinced anything was possible.

To my surprise he laughed. It was a pleasing sound, but it frustrated me none the less.

"No, actually, quite the opposite. But I mean you no harm." Then his eyes narrowed. "Esme, do you remember me?"

"You're the angel, umm…doctor…who mended my broken leg when I fell out of the tree. I never forgot your face. But I don't understand - why are you here now?"

"Yes, well, that will take a bit of explaining. Will you sit with me?"

He gestured to a couch that sat in front of another window. This window was covered by thick curtains. I sensed my answers were coming, so I tried to be patient, but I felt edgy and my throat was so dry it burned like a desert.

We sat on opposite ends of the couch.

He turned to face me and said in his beautiful voice, "I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen. And yes, I am the doctor that treated you ten years ago in Columbus."

He took a deep breath, paused, and then continued…

"I don't know what series of events brought us both to this small town at this time, but I am convinced I was meant to save your life."

"Save me?" I questioned.

"I know your memories are going to seem foggy, but what is the last thing you remember happening before you woke here?"

I had to think about that. Time, events, reality - they all seemed like a tangled ball of string. I sought in my mind to untie the knots and put things in some sense of order. I stared off unseeingly, searching. Finally, I decided to just describe what came to mind no matter how jumbled it sounded…

"Darkness. The sound of water. Feeling hopeless. I….I stepped into nothingness…" my words trailed off.

"Esme, I think you meant to die that night."

"Yes." I knew it was true, but I didn't know how or why.

He softly asked, "Do you remember why you wanted to die?"

"I hurt so badly."

"How do you feel now?"

My eyes quickly moved to examine his. I would find the truth in them.

"Dr. Cullen, am I dead?"

He shook his head, as if he were recalling something painful.

"I was there when they found you at the bottom of a cliff. Your body was very broken and you were dying. I remembered you as a child and something in me just couldn't bear to let you go. I saved you the only way I knew how. But I am not sure you will approve of my actions…."

He looked away. This was not helping! None of my questions had been answered. And now I had more of them to ask…

"I don't understand. If I am not dead, how long have I been unconscious?"

"Three days," he said flatly.

"Three days? But you said I was badly hurt - I see no injuries!" As if for effect, I moved my extremities and examined my body for damage. "I do remember burning pain…. What did you do to save me? It appears to be some sort of miracle! Tell me everything!"

I tried to keep my growing irritation in check, but I was tired of this game of question and answer. I could feel anger boiling just below the surface. It was a wild, out of control-type of anger that was searching for an escape. Only my complete bewilderment was over-riding the anger…for now.

Dr. Cullen looked at me with those liquid gold eyes; they seemed to be pleading for my understanding. I tried to focus on them to maintain composure.

"Esme," he said, and then slid slightly closer to me. He gently took my hand in his. Wordlessly, he placed my hand over my heart.

"What do you feel?" he asked.

At first I didn't comprehend. My eyes narrowed as I tried to grasp what it was he wanted me to know. Then shock – I had no heart beat! I knew my reaction should have been panic, but the rush of feelings just didn't come. Instead my mind churned out multiple theories and hypotheses at once. My only response was to look at Dr. Cullen with wide eyes.

"Have you noticed you are not breathing either?" His voice more matter-of-fact than concerned.

Another blow. My furiously working mind came up with nothing. No reasonable explanation.

"What am I?" I breathed the words out slowly. "This body, this mind – they feel foreign to me. Even my voice does not seem my own…."

Wordlessly, he reached behind me and opened the curtains covering the window. The sunlight poured in. What I saw took my non-existent breath away.

He was as dazzling as a million stars in a pitch black sky! It was eerily breathtaking.

Once he saw my silent shock turn to wonder, he reached for me again. This time he took my wrist in his hand. I looked deeper into his eyes – what would he reveal now? He placed my hand gently on his cheek. And I had my answer. My hand matched the brilliance of his face. Whatever I was, he was too. We were the same.

This oddly came as a relief. I knew, somehow, he was good. He had been my angel for so long. What I had clung to in my most desperate moments. Trusting him was just something I knew. So, if we were, indeed the same, this must be a good thing. Out loud I summed up what I knew:

"I am not dead. Yet, without a heartbeat and breathing, how am I alive? And, why haven't you changed since I met you 10 years ago?"

With this he stood up, "Can I show you something?"

I wasn't sure how much more new information I could handle. But Dr. Cullen appeared to like demonstration over explanation. I nodded and stood also. I followed him to the other side of the room to where a large mirror stood. It was old, framed in a rich dark oak.

Dr. Cullen guided me in front of it. What I saw caused me to jump backward in fright. What kind of mirror was this? Whose reflection was staring back at me with wide eyes!

Dr. Cullen responded as if he heard my startled thoughts.

"Esme, it's the new you. If I may be so bold, I think you are breathtaking."

I pondered his words as I studied my reflection. Although my slender legs and feet were bare, I wore a simple pale pink flowing dress that hung gracefully to my knees. My hair, once a mousey brown, was now a brilliant caramel color and fell in waves around my pale face. My skin was fair and flawless, much like Dr. Cullen's.

I had never paid much attention to my looks. In fact, I took on a tomboy persona as a young girl. I knew, at best, I was average looking. But now – I looked like a movie star! I couldn't help but smile. My teeth were incredibly white and perfect. And, yes, I still had my dimples! Icing on the cake.

Then I stifled a scream.

"My eyes! They are blood red! Dr. Cullen what..."

He had been standing behind me observing my reaction in the mirror. Now he took me by the shoulders and turned me around to face him. His eyes met mine. I noticed they were not the same as mine.

"Please, call me Carlisle." His gentle mannerisms distracted me from my alarm. Why was his smile so disarming?

He continued, "The red color is coming from your blood. Your human blood."

I didn't like the way his voice emphasized the word 'human'. And, damn, why was my throat burning so badly? It grated on my nerves and my muddled my focus.

"Tell her, Carlisle."

I heard the voice seconds before I detected a new scent in the air. Instinct again sent me into a crouch. A hiss escaped my lips as a young man entered the room. He noted my posture, but responded in a calm, nonchalant fashion. His skin glistened as he walked into the room and past the window toward where Carlisle and I stood.

"I'm Edward, Carlisle's adopted son."

I relaxed my stance and then re-focused, "Tell me what, Carlisle?" My eyes moved from Edward to Carlisle.

Edward, don't you think she has had enough shock for one day? I want her to embrace the beautiful things of her new existence before I have to tell her what I have made her…

Edward spoke again, "She's a newborn, Carlisle! How long do you think she can maintain this control? She needs to hunt."

Edward, please, let me handle this…

When no one spoke, the anger that had been threatening just under the surface now erupted.

"Tell me now!" I yelled as I grabbed the unfortunate mirror that still stood before me and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall with such force it shattered with a loud crack. Shards of glass and splintered wood flew everywhere, some of which ricocheted off my body – leaving not one scratch!

The shock of my utter loss of control was tempered by amazement at my lack of injury and demonstration of strength. I tried to funnel my power into my voice.

"No more secrets, Carlisle. What am I? A newborn what?"

His eyes grew darker and they had the look of dread I saw earlier.

"Esme, you are like me. Like Edward, too. You possess incredible strength and speed. You have augmented senses and mental capabilities. But when I saved you from death, I also condemned you to an eternity of it. Esme…you are a vampire.