WARNING: This is what you've been waiting for... ;o)
Marcus was summoning me.
I'd become attuned to his thoughts fairly quickly during my stay with the Volturi and even with the bombardment of stray thoughts of the dozens of vampires within the castle walls, it was his that stood out above all the others, his that I listened for and heard even when I wasn't called.
He wanted me to transcribe his memories of Didyme again. Even now as he called to me, he was thinking about her and the memory he wanted to share and it was a good memory. They were climbing a mountain in the dead of winter, her black hair and pale skin a striking contrast to the backdrop of ice and snow. She was dressed only in a form fitting red silk bliaut that hardly took into consideration the extreme climate, but they were in an isolated area devoid of the inquiring eyes of humans. She giggled, floundering in the deep snow until only the top of her head was visible eliciting chuckles from Marcus who was watching her from his perch in a tree.
The pull of Marcus' directive was strong, but I was distracted by Carlisle's voice that had been pestering me unmercifully for several hours. It was my punishment; a private hell that I would be forced to endure for all time. I'd defied him; cast him aside in favor of the Volturi, abandoning his values for promises of human blood and a high rank in the guard. So now his memories would haunt me; no longer could I take comfort from them and use them to whittle away the time discovering delightful little secrets of Carlisle's past held within castle walls. Now Carlisle's voice hammered at me, demanding my attention willing me to do its bidding. I understood that I'd manifested these new memories myself as a form of punishment, using Carlisle as the tool that would administer my penance for all my transgressions, those in the past and others still yet to come.
Eventually Corin sought me out, but one look on my face through his eyes, told me and him that I wasn't in any condition to serve Marcus on this day. My eyes were wild, the iris' a brilliant red appearing to sparkle in the dim natural light of the room. I was pacing back and forth in my small space, fifteen steps one way, an abrupt turn and fifteen steps back. I repeated the pattern over and over; seventeen hundred and twenty two times to be exact and I was still counting, still pacing, stopping only briefly to acknowledge Corin.
"I don't think I can write today." I gave him a perfunctory response to his inquisitive look.
Corin nodded, looking curiously at me. My appearance alone must have convinced him because without a word he spun on his heel and retreated back to Marcus.
I chuckled as his thoughts. He believed I was insane, literally so and maybe I was. If they would leave me alone for a time, days…hours…minutes even, it was possible I could recover my senses, but if it wasn't Marcus, it was Aro, always chattering. I needed peace and now I could add the Carlisle memory to the growing list of masters I served.
The fireplace offered me no sanctuary. The rather spacious confines of it felt claustrophobic and within its stone walls, I felt like a caged animal, the need to escape almost overpowering. The pacing helped. I wasn't going anywhere, just back and forth, back and forth, but the movement tricked my brain into thinking otherwise and as long as I didn't focus on the scantily furnished interior of the room, I could imagine myself in the tunnels of Carlisle's memories as he sought to draw me into them.
These tunnels were different from the others, even two hundred odd years ago, when the Volturi vampires still used the underground passageways as a way to move about the city, they were in a severe state of disrepair. Some had collapsed all together, but I could see Carlisle's hand as he pulled rocks and timber away enabling him to crawl through the narrow opening of what initially appeared to be an impassable ingress.
This new interactive Carlisle was relentless in his demand that I follow him, guiding me through the maze of passageways, eager to show me something that he wouldn't reveal in his ancient thoughts, not fooled by my endless pacing; the apparition of him understanding that I'd never left my room at all.
Edward, I'm waiting for you. Please son, follow me, I'll show you the way out.
Aggravating. I gripped my hair as I paced, pulling at it, thankful that even I didn't have the strength to rip it from my skull. I didn't want to explain a bald spot to the brothers or endure the ridicule of the other members of the guard. Why couldn't Carlisle just leave me alone? I knew I was on the verge of madness. How else could I explain the intensity of his voice reverberating within the confines of my skull. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, drowning out his words with those of my own. But that would only reaffirm to the others that I was truly insane and though I suspected Aro already knew that and was prepared to overlook it for what I could bring to the guard, I didn't want the others to know, especially not Jane or Felix, their smugness and condescending stares already vexing enough.
When I'd crossed the room and back two thousand times I stopped. It wasn't working. The action of moving wasn't driving Carlisle's voice from my head and the tremors had gotten so severe that I had troubling remaining upright, often staggering forward when I took a step too fast or tried to move both feet at once.
I would have to try another venue to appease the Carlisle voice. I would do as I was told and follow his memories. I thought of his journal hidden in the catacombs under the chapel. If I hadn't listen to Carlisle's memories then, I never would have found the little treasure, so why was I so set on resisting him now? I didn't really need to voice that question aloud. I knew. Where that memory and the others of him in the library, chatting with the wives or reading in Marcus' room were unobtrusive and fractured, appearing almost dreamlike waiting to be discovered and followed at my whim or otherwise tucked away for future reference and exploration; these new memories were relentless in their intensity. They demanded my attention, required my consideration and would not be ignored to be explored at my leisure and I rebelled against them, the intrusion, the persistence, the necessity that I address them now was an affront to all that I valued about Carlisle. This Carlisle memory was demanding and impatient and could not be brushed aside by my attempts to distract myself with other thoughts.
But if I were too get any peace, I would have to listen as hours of endless pacing and silent curses, thoughts of every piano piece I ever written…no every piano piece I ever played could not silence his voice. Carlisle's memories had won…I couldn't…
He's coming.
What was that?
I wasn't going to listen to it. It was another voice from my past and I wasn't going to listen to it. I would go mad hearing voices, thoughts of those that were no longer in my life. I couldn't do it. Please God…I couldn't. Only Carlisle. I would only listen to the Carlisle voice.
I avoided the stairwell that brought me either up to Marcus' quarters or down to the turret room and instead wandered through the long great hall that gave me several options leading to the tunnels below. The first and most obvious was the offices that at street level had elevators near the reception area which would bring me down into the recesses of the castle. But those elevators also brought the humans down to their death and I wanted no part of that, no part of any lingering smells. Besides, none of Carlisle's memories were of elevators; even his most recent visit did not have him traveling by elevator. And though my method for reaching the hidden passageways was not dictated by anyone or anything, I felt more comfortable following the less traditional route, one that wouldn't lead me past the human receptionist with her curious stares and the undisguised questions in her thoughts.
Allowing Carlisle's non-interactive memories to guide me, I followed the walkway across the mezzanine to the outer stairwell and down to a kitchen with a massive hearth in the center of it. Behind the hearth, discretely tucked away was what had once been a trap door; the door no longer existed. It and the wooden rungs of a makeshift ladder had decayed away with time. There was just a hole and I dropped through it landing lightly, some twenty feet down in the aphotic depths of the tunnel. As evening approached not even a small bit of natural light invaded the space, but I knew my way, could see as clearly through Carlisle's eyes as my own and followed a centuries old memory through the narrow passageway, my fingers lightly running along the masonry of the manmade tunnel as I'd seen Carlisle do in so many of his memories.
When I reached the catacombs below the chapel I stopped. Carlisle's sanctuary was as familiar to me from my own explorations as they were from Carlisle's. Every memory of this part of the castle that Carlisle had shared with me had been explored. There was nothing for me to discover here, nothing to guide me and I was at a loss for how to proceed.
He's turning back.
What? I looked around at the crumbling remains of the corpses tucked away in their, burial niche. I knew that voice and she wasn't one of the residents of the Volturi castle, either dead or alive-ish. Who was turning back and why was she interrupting my memories of Carlisle's explorations?
Go to the chapel, Edward.
Again I was unnerved by the Carlisle voice that spoke directly to me. It wasn't right, it didn't make sense. I was still a century away from being born. I knew it was my mind, the muddling of memories playing tricks on me. How long would I have before I would not be able to think clearly at all, when my past and future merged, when thoughts of Carlisle were on par with thoughts of Marcus and I couldn't keep the two separate. Would I one day sit in Marcus' quarters with he on the left of me and Carlisle on the right, wondering which image was real, which master I served? Madness in vampires though not common, was possible; Carlisle had alluded to as much. How long before I went completely insane and would I know, would I even be aware of it?
I climbed the stairwell that led up to the chapel anxious to pass through this part of the memory, finding no peace within the walls of the house of God, my visions of the heads, always nudging their way into my consciousness. No church would ever be a place of sanctuary for me again. I actually sighed in relief when I heard Carlisle's voice directing me, guiding me and then I saw the visual picture of a memory I'd not seen before of Carlisle's hand as he pushed against the stone behind the crumbling alter revealing another set of stairs, hidden from all but the most observant.
These stairs led down to a small room, undoubtedly the private quarters of the priest and here Carlisle lingered, usually with a book, his back pressed against the wall as he slid to the floor, reading in the tranquility of the isolated room even as his upbringing as an Anglican pastor's son challenged him to rally against this Roman Catholic dwelling. Was it this place that called to me from Carlisle's memories? Is that why I only remembered it now, drawing on the last connection to him, a private place away from the others, their thoughts muffled as though the thickness of the walls could block the sound of them, not possible but perhaps the perception was that it could and I could draw peace from the isolation…
He stopped, he's sitting down.
Who's sitting? I spun around the room, seeing images of my human prey, their dead faces glaring at me from the shadows, the faces of my victims, frozen in the horrible grimace of death, drained of all their life's blood. I had to get out of here.
He's running back to the stairs, the wrong way.
"Shut up," I yelled at the shadows that swirled around me, the faces fragmenting and disappearing all together.
The fireplace, Edward, go to the fireplace…crawl inside.
But I couldn't crawl inside. I remained frozen in the center of the room, watching through Carlisle's eyes as he crawled into the fireplace, flabbergasted by his actions. Is that where I got it from, the security I felt when I was surrounded on three sides by the stone walls of a medieval fireplace. Had Carlisle done the same thing, taking his loneliness and sorrows with him? Had I seen the random flickering of an image of a memory and adopted it as my own.
But no, Carlisle was not hunkering down in the fireplace. He was pushing at the wall behind it. I could see his hand, his ring with his family crest, applying pressure to the stone and then it gave way and he slid behind it, into a passageway and quickly moved through it with a speed born of familiarity.
"Wait." I said to the departing memory. I was still standing in the room, staring at the fireplace that looked inconspicuous enough. Smaller than the one in my room, but still big enough to crawl inside. Slowly I walked forward, mimicking his actions, pushing against the stone just as he'd done and watching in awe as it swung free, not really solid stone at all; a façade hiding more tunnels. I cautiously crawled through.
In the back of my mind I knew that this was not just a simply memory of Carlisle wandering below the Volturi castle. There was something significant about this memory, a hidden meaning; it needed to be explored further and it wasn't just the licking of madness nudging into my reality though certainly that played a role, allowing me to accept something with no logical explanation. It was as if Carlisle's memories were laid before me, these new memories apparently kept hidden in my subconscious until just this particular moment, waiting like a lost treasure for me to discover when I needed them most. I felt a little pulse of excitement quiver through me.
I felt I'd been given the gift of time travel, inadvertently falling into a black hole, a portal through time and was now walking these tunnels with Carlisle, the years that separated his time spent here and mine, mysteriously gone. I wasn't just seeing his memories; I was experiencing them with him and he was guiding me to a place of great significance. Could it be that when he revealed his memories to me, he understood that someday I would need them, recall them and follow them to some lost paragon from his past. It all made sense, the absence of these memories in my mind before now, his voice that called to me, called my name, a name he wouldn't have known to call two hundred years ago and if I thought too hard on it, I became dizzy with the possibilities. The only thing that didn't make sense was Alice's voice; she didn't fit in the scenario at all. And there it was again.
He's going the wrong way. He went left, not right.
I went left? Alice didn't know what she was talking about. The tunnel only went straight. Even as I jumped to Carlisle's memory, I could see I was clearly following him. The tunnel was winding to the left but there was nowhere else to go.
Run your hand along the wall, Edward…find the opening.
And so I did; much the same way I saw Carlisle doing but there was nothing to feel, just a solid wall. I watched Carlisle's memories more closely; saw him sliding his hand along the stone using his fingertips to feel along the crevices that bound one stone to the next. We were the same height so I only had to mimic his actions, place my hand exactly thirty seven inches up the wall and then I found it. The groove, a crack and I stopped, watching through Carlisle's eyes as he pushed at the stone and it gave way, tumbling into the passageway behind it.
I replicated his actions and with little effort the same stone, disturbed from its resting spot of an untold number of years, rolled into another passageway. Once I crawled through the opening I took my time carefully replacing the stones as I saw Carlisle do so many years before. Was this a secret passage way, only known to Carlisle? The shiver of excitement I felt early rippled through me again. A feeling of meloncholy washed over me as I recalled the memories of a time when it was just Carlisle and I. He delighted in showing me bits of his past, historically significant landmarks, discoveries he'd made in his travels; and he was doing it again through his memories, but it felt like he was right here, right here with me and that old feeling of the companionship we shared rushed through me in a pleasant calming wave.
The passageway was unmaintained, difficult to maneuver through without causing serious structural damage to it. I was worried about a collapse but only in that I would damage a significant part of Carlisle's past, so I took my time, just as I saw Carlisle do. Picking my way through the rubble, the collapsed walls, the debris that littered my path and was reassured that I was maintaining a reasonable pace by Carlisle's words of encouragement from somewhere ahead of me. Where earlier I'd been aggravated by the interactive Carlisle, now I was gratified by him. I felt less alone, less unsure of myself. If this was madness, perhaps it was where I was meant to be, for surely madness with a companion was better than sanity alone.
He's turning around, running away.
I stopped, listened as mystified by Alice's voice in my thoughts as I was in her declaration. Who was she talking about, who was down here with me. I felt a momentary flutter of panic, but then Carlisle's voice, calm and reassuring, guided me.
Turn to the left when you reach the end of the tunnel, follow it straight until you can go no further.
But there was nowhere to go when the tunnel ended; just a wall, a stone wall, more solid than those on either side of me.
I made a mistake, took a wrong turn, this wasn't the way. I had to go back and I began to run.
He's going back the way he came. He's going the wrong way!
The Alice voice was persistent, but she would not dissuade me. I found it odd that she was referring to me as if she were talking to someone else. I still didn't understand her presence, in Carlisle's memories. It made no sense.
Watch me.
I couldn't watch him if I was in his memories, looking through his eyes but I could see as he moved by where I stood, in the direction from which I'd just come. I saw his actions, the placement of his hands, the careful footsteps. He was climbing over huge chunks of collapsed wall exposing bare earth. When he looked towards where I stood, he did not acknowledge me, did not see me, there was nothing to see, I wasn't there, I was over one hundred years in his future. Once he was over the worst of the destruction, he moved quickly away from me, his eyes focused on the fallen stone just up ahead that left a gaping hole in the side of the wall, exposing yet another tunnel.
He's turning around again.
I hadn't turned around, but seeing Carlisle quickly making his way toward the hole in the wall piqued my curiosity. Had I missed it? The rubble obstructing the tunnels was much more extensive then in Carlisle's memory but I was dealing with several decade's worth of additional decay. Perhaps a piece of the wall had crumbled, hiding the hole.
There is nothing but a solid wall. He has nowhere to go.
And the Alice voice was right this time. When I retraced my steps I encountered the same stone dead end. There was no hole, no place for me to pass through. Even as I pressed against it, I found no weaknesses.
Someone has sealed the hole. Edward you must punch through the wall.
That wasn't Carlisle. He would never condone destruction of property, certainly not property of historical significance. That thought was mine and mine alone, but weren't they all; wasn't I just imagining this entire conversation with Carlisle to feed my fantasy that we were exploring something together. Hadn't I invented him as a companion to help me through my instabilities and loneliness? Silly in retrospect; I couldn't even imitate Carlisle effectively.
But the memories egged me on. Carlisle standing where I stood now, stooping a little to crawl through the small opening, revealing another tunnel, a passageway that he was quickly moving down. And I couldn't help myself. I wanted to follow him. My hands pressed against the wall, testing its strength. It would take nothing for me to bust through it, just a little pressure and it would crumble, but I couldn't...
You must break though the wall Edward. It's alright son, trust me.
And I did trust him. Even understanding that his voice was a figment of my imagination, an elaborate hallucination to escape from the hell I put myself in, I couldn't deny the power it held over me. I was beginning to understand how humans, caught in the grips of mental illness, listened to persuasive inner voices committing unspeakable acts against themselves or others, at the mercy of those voices, yet I still hesitated when all I was being asked to do was punch through a wall.
As I feared, the moment I pushed against the stone, the entire wall collapsed and as with dominos, as one piece fell, another did, then another and another. The rumbling rocked the underground maze of tunnels. I'd destroyed it, destroyed the entire thing. Yet still the inner Carlisle voice urged me down the tunnel, now clouded with dust and rubble from the collapsed south facing wall.
And so I followed Carlisle's memory, disregarding the destruction left in my wake and barely contemplating what punishment I might face when the damaged was assessed by the Volturi brothers. I moved quickly along this tunnel one hand on the outer wall, the passage way surprisingly clear. The Alice voice no longer distracted me with warnings of wrong turns and missed exits and I felt reasonably sure that I was going in the right direction, whatever right meant in this bizarre adventure. Running with Carlisle through his eyes he abruptly halted and my own body skidded to a stop with him.
Look up Edward, you will see the exit above you.
I did as instructed, seeing through Carlisle's eyes as he jumped from where I stood, straight up, his hands latching onto a grate that was almost invisible against the rock; the force of his momentum driving the grate up and out and he with it landing softly on solid ground. He was standing in the middle of a cobblestone street leading out of the city and beyond that was an empty wooded hillside.
And so, standing as Carlisle had in my thoughts, I jumped; my aim was true, my fingers closing round the iron bars, the rusty grate breaking free and then I was above ground, but my line of sight was completely different than Carlisle's had been. The road before me was no longer cobblestone, but pavement stretching out before me, winding through the rolling hills devoid of any trees, houses sprinkled where the trees had once stood. The scent of human was strong. I could see the house lights twinkling softly in the distance; hear the heartbeats, the thoughts of those same humans as they prepared for sleep, the evening hour late. Venom flooded my mouth and I quickly swallowed it down.
He's going to run. "He's going to run, Carlisle."
I gasped, sucking in the cool night air. I heard her...I heard her. Alice. I HEARD her. Not just her inner voice. Her real voice; her sweet sing song voice. I heard it. Alice was here!
Edward, listen to me son. Only listen to me, focus only on my thoughts. I need you to go east, follow the road. Go away from the city.
Carlisle's thoughts barely resonated with me. I was still thinking of Alice. Was she here, was she really here and if she was, why...why was she here? Didn't she understand the danger? The Volturi wanted her, Aro desired nothing more than to have Alice at his side, even more than me. If she was in the city, I had to warn her.
I looked over my shoulder and was startled to see the city of Volterra nestled in the hillside some distance away. Had I really traveled so far from the city in the underground passageways? The answer was obvious, but why was I here, why had Carlisle's memories brought me here? Had I been following a memory of him going out for a hunt? Was it as simple as that? Whatever disappointment I felt was quickly forgotten as I still had the mystery of Alice to solve. She'd come for me once before with Bella, rescuing me from the Volturi. Was she back to do it again? I tilted my head back sniffing the air for her scent, but only a strong odor of humans filled my nostrils. I must be mistaken. It was just another symptom of my instabilities, a memory of her voice, another delusion.
Follow the road Edward.
And then I saw through Carlisle's eyes as he trotted down that cobblestone road that eventually turned to dirt. In his memories, there was no humans near, only the unpleasant odor of deer hidden in the trees and this drew Carlisle's attention as he veered off into the woods that were no longer there, the houses and yards replacing that remote countryside of his past.
I hesitated. If these memories were of Carlisle hunting, I couldn't follow because even as distasteful as the blood of deer could be, his memories would entice me, my instincts would take over and unlike the Carlisle of two hundred years before, my prey would be human; they were all around me.
He's going to turn around. "Help him, Carlisle, he's turning around."
Alice's voice again and it was real, it had to be. Why would I manifest a memory of it only to have her recite words that baffled me? But it wasn't her voice that had me staggering in shock, it was the voice that followed.
"Edward, I need you to follow the road, just a little bit further. You have nothing to fear, son."
Carlisle! That was Carlisle's voice. I heard it as clearly as if he were standing next to me. No longer did I believe I was imagining it. I wasn't so far gone that I couldn't recognize the situation for what it was. Carlisle and Alice were here in Volterra, dangerously close the Volturi and they were calling to me, guiding me, stealing me away from them. They shouldn't have come, it was too dangerous. I had to warn them away, had to find them and tell them to leave. Terror filled me and I bolted down the road determined that I would not draw my loved ones into this nightmare.
The scent hit me first, fresh scent, not just the traces of it that Carlisle had left behind back in the drawing room of the castle. I didn't have to look up to know they were there, but I snuck a peek anyway. Carlisle was standing in the middle of the road, projecting none of the panic or fear I felt. His demeanor was calm, his eyes steady, he looked concerned but not unduly so. Surely he would understand the danger he was in, yet nothing in his thoughts or expression revealed the urgency I felt.
Alice was behind him, sitting on the trunk of a Mercedes limousine parked on the side of the road. But it wasn't her that drew my attention. She was gripping the arm of Jasper who was leaning against the car, his arms folded, his thoughts blank, his face expressionless and behind them was Emmett; now that I smelled his scent and saw him, I could hear him, but he was thinking of Rosalie, not just thinking about her, but imagining her nude and like it always had before, that particular image sent me fleeing from his mind.
"You need to come with us, Edward. It's time to go home." Carlisle said his voice as smooth as silk, no anxiety, no worry, as if it was just another day and we were discussing the weather.
I couldn't look at him. I needed no reminder, no confirmation that my eyes revealed my secrets, I couldn't bear for him to see even though he already knew. I looked at the ground and shook my head, clenching my jaw as I felt the first inkling of the intense shuddering that would make it difficult for me to speak.
"You don't have to stay here son. You heard Aro. You are not a prisoner. You can leave any time you want. You don't belong here…"
"Your wrong!" I cried out, louder than I intended, relieved at least that there was no quaking in my words. I needed to convince them to leave…they were in danger.
"Edward. I lived with the Volturi for many years and just as I did not belong here, neither do you. We all make mistakes, no one is perfect…"
"You are…you d…don't make mistakes." My hands were gripping my hair; I couldn't seem to stop the meltdown that was coming. From Carlisle's eyes I saw myself rocking back on my heels. I needed to leave, go back where I belonged. But what if they followed? No I had to convince them first, convince them to leave me and go away.
I saw movement, Carlisle walking towards me and I flinched away, jumping back several feet. He held up his hands and stopped.
"Listen to me Edward. We all make mistakes. I know you are referring to my ability…my gift if you will…my gift of control. And perhaps in that respect, I am perfect, but I have made many mistakes over my lifetime, a great many and I as with you can only move on from those mistakes and try not to make them again. That is all anyone can do."
I shook my head violently refusing to consider that whatever minor infractions Carlisle was referring too, hardly compared to the evil that I'd perpetuated; hardly mistakes in the most liberal context. To murder was not a mistake.
We need to go, the Volturi could show up at any moment. Hurry up Carlisle.
I shot a quick look at Emmett and Carlisle's eyes followed my gaze. Emmett was right, the Volturi guard might be patrolling nearby, they would catch the scent of my family…my former family, they needed to leave at once.
Focus on me Edward, only on me.
And for a brief moment, our eyes locked, his golden ochre darkening to black and from those eyes, I saw mine, blazing red, the evidence of my ghastly deeds glaringly obvious. I took several steps away from him, feeling my very presence might contaminate him. I needed to send them on their way, convince him I no longer was part of his family and that I would be okay. He needed to understand that he had no obligation to me, it wasn't his fault, my transgressions were mine alone to bear. I thought about the letter I wrote him. I wished I had it with me, but I never imagined that I would be put in the position to deliver it to him.
"We won't leave you here, son. You must come with us. You belong with us." He kept speaking even as I shook my head frantically, backing away. "The Volturi are a different breed of vampire, you know that. I've told you that. Aro is only using you, he's weakened you, made you believe things that you know aren't true."
"No. Aro knows. He's seen…you don't know what you're talking about." I could defy him, I could. Carlisle was no longer my master, but then when had he ever been. He was my father and I'd failed him, failed him miserably. I couldn't go back…I just couldn't.
And then he was standing feet from me, reaching for me and I did something I hadn't done since I was a newborn. I growled at him, my body assuming a defensive crouch and he froze, for the first time his expression wavered. See…see…I was a monster. I just had to show him. Jasper and Emmett had moved forward. They would protect him from me. Even if Carlisle refused to see, they weren't so blinded by illusions of my innocence. They saw that I posed a real danger to Carlisle.
"Go away!" I shouted retreating several more feet, my demonic eyes locked with Carlisle's gentle ones.
"I won't leave you Edward." He was no longer advancing on me and I relaxed my stance. "You are my son. You need to come home with me."
"Please…" I could manage nothing more. The urge to run was strong, but I knew he would follow me. I no longer looked at him. I couldn't bear it. Behind him, I heard the silent sobs of Alice, but there was nothing in her thoughts. Did she see a vision? What was wrong with her?
"Come with us. We'll help you. You've suffered so much. You need to let us take care of you." Esme's tortured face flashed in his mind. "Your mother is waiting for you; she's here in Italy too."
"You…you…shouldn't have br…brought her…let her come…too dangerous." I gasped, my fingers clawing at my hair.
"Let her? Oh, I don't think I could have stopped her." He chuckled…he actually chuckled. "She will march right up to the Volturi castle and retrieve you herself if you don't come with us."
"Carlisle NO!"
I heard Alice shout, but it was too late. The all consuming rage I felt at the thought of Esme, defenseless Esme, coming anywhere near the Volturi, consumed me. How dare Carlisle bring her here, put her at such risk and for what? To save this ungrateful, selfish, murderous monster I'd become. Every raw emotion, every outrageous action, every disgusting ounce of self loathing I felt, suddenly had a target and it was Carlisle. His stupid values, his unrealistic hope to replicate the human family he never had, this was all his fault….ALL OF IT…
I roared out my rage and charged. I barely saw Emmett shoot forward and when he tried to grab me, I saw and easily dodged him, his skills evading my gift, had weakened from lack of practice. Jasper too leapt in front of me, but my fury could not be distracted and I thrust him aside with a backhanded slap on the side of the head. They weren't prepared to fight the monster I'd become and their half hearted attempts to defend Carlisle were nothing compared to what I'd faced. Unlike Aro, Carlisle had no Jane to disable me, no Renata to deflect me, no endless number of guard to stop me.
And there he stood, unprotected in front of me. His body was tense, his muscles quivered as he fought against the instinctual need to defend himself. He hadn't moved and when I was only steps from him, I sprung. I saw his actions that would have given me pause if I could have stopped myself as I flew through the air. Rather than raise his arms to defend himself against me, he opened them and before I had a chance to contemplate the meaning of his actions I felt myself embraced by them as he pulled me to him, wrapping me securely against him.
It's alright son, I understand…I understand.
Rather than fighting him, I found myself gripping him, pulling him to me, burying my face in his chest, his scent overpowering me with its familiar comforting spicy aroma. I wanted to crawl inside of him, escape from the terror surrounding me and disappear behind the exterior of the strongest man I knew. I felt his arms secure me, his face against my neck and he seemed to feel my need as he tightened his embrace, his grip lifting me from the ground and still it wasn't close enough….still I felt exposed, in danger, fearful that he would evaporate and I would be left with nothing more than the memory of him and so I gripped him tighter, my fingers twisting into his jacket. I didn't understand his groans until Jasper spoke.
"He's hurting you Carlisle."
And then I was pushing him away, trying to escape from the clutches of his arms, understanding that no matter what I did, I would hurt the ones I loved most. I was toxic, a poisonous predator that could only bring pain. But Carlisle's grip around me didn't loosen and he held me firmly against him
"No, it's fine, I'm fine," for Jasper.
You're safe son. Don't be afraid. I won't let you go. No one is going to take you away from me again. Not even you.
I shook my head against his chest. I had to defy him. For his own good, I had to resist. He was in danger…from me…the Volturi. I couldn't put him in danger; because I loved him…I loved him.
Relax son, I'm taking you home.
I felt my body sag against his and for the third time in my life, I felt him lift me in his arms and I stopped struggling, the will to resist him gone, his words lulling me into compliancy.
"Not too much Jasper, I don't want him unconscious."
So that was it then. My passivity was born of Jasper's influence. I didn't care. I didn't want to think about anything anymore. For now, I only wanted to absorb the scent of my creator, the one that had only ever tried to guide and comfort me, his compassion and kindness rewarded by my rebellion and anger. There would be plenty of time for reproach and retribution later, but for now I focused only on his thoughts, his words of reassurance and confidence in this ability to protect me from myself. I wasn't so far gone that I believed anything he said, but I still clung to him and his words, wishing if for a brief time that he was right in his assumption of me and what my future held, despite all the evidence to the contrary.
I remembered little of the actual car ride. Jasper was seated next to Carlisle and I in the back seat with Alice in front with Emmett. I caught their stray thoughts occasionally. Alice was tormented by my condition; nothing in her visions had prepared her for the reality. She knew more than any of them what I had suffered through, what I had done, yet still my deterioration shocked her. Both Emmett and Jasper were cautious, wary of the possibility of that stray Volturi guard that might happen upon us, their eyes scanning either side of the road as if they could see the vampire prior to the ambush. With their thoughts I tensed in Carlisle's arms, understanding the peril they had put themselves in and even in my numbed state, feeling responsible for it. But then Carlisle would grip me tighter and chastise them.
"Clear your thoughts, boys, clear your thoughts." He'd mumble and eventually I would relax again.
Florence was only a short run away from Volterra, but by car it took forty minutes and thirty two seconds. I paid little mind when the vehicle stopped and Emmett exited the car, hearing no alarm in anyone's thoughts that might make me take notice. I tried not to think at all, finding it safe to dwell on nothing, ponder no scenario that would bring harm to my family, contemplate nothing that might distress me. But still I couldn't completely stop the thoughts of those around me and when I heard the familiar inner voice of the only person that might make me feel more ashamed then Carlisle, my body quaked abruptly and I struggled in Carlisle's grip. I wanted to appear strong for her. I didn't want her to worry; a laughable consideration given all I had put her through. But I couldn't pull myself together, couldn't find the will to disengage myself from Carlisle's arms and with Jasper's gift still influencing me I only mumbled in protest when I felt her hand in my hair as she climbed in the spot vacated by him next to Carlisle and I.
"Give him to me Carlisle." Her voice was as soothing to my ears as the sweetest angel in heaven. "Give me my son."
"I don't think that would be a good idea right now, he's still…upset. Perhaps when we are in the air…"
"Carlisle, give me my son." When Esme wanted something, Carlisle seldom denied her and I heard him sigh.
Edward, I'm going to give you to your mother…gentle son…be gentle.
He was warning me not to hurt her. But I was a monster, what else could he do. I wanted to acknowledge his thoughts, but I didn't trust my voice and cringed at the possibility that I might stutter out some garbled response, so I remained quiet, feeling myself being lift from Carlisle to Esme, aware that some part of me resisted as my hands refused to relinquish my grip on him. But then someone was prying my fingers loose from him and I felt myself in her arms, my head pressed against her breast, her lips on my face as she softly hummed to me a familiar tune from the days she spent comforting me after Bella's death. I offered little response other than to snuggle into her tighter, taking heed of Carlisle's warning not to squeeze too tight and in her soft embrace, I felt content, my muscles only dancing a little under her concerned hands as she tried to quell my tremors.
"There is no way we're going to get him through security like this." Jasper's hushed voice was near, talking to Carlisle.
"No you're right. Esme will have to carry him on. We'll drop her off near the gate." Carlisle responded. "A Boeing 767 Emmett? You couldn't find anything smaller?"
"It is small compared to the 747, Carlisle. I could have got us one of those but I thought it might be a little conspicuous with only seven passengers." He chuckled and in his thoughts I saw him running up and down the empty aisle way chasing Rosalie until they both disappeared into the upper deck of the massive plane. He would have preferred the 747.
"Carlisle, you aren't going to get through security looking like that either," Rosalie's voice. She was there too. I slid languidly into her mind and saw Carlisle from her perspective. His jacket was in tatters, pieces of it were missing and one sleeve was completely torn off. Had I done that to him? What was wrong with me?
"I'll change at the airport," he said abruptly. I felt his hand on me trying to still a new round of violent convulsing tremors that shuddered through my body.
I felt other hands too, forcing my fingers apart removing the remnants of Carlisle's jacket that I still gripped. I knew much of my subdued manner was a result of Jasper's gift, but I couldn't help feeling content, hearing the soft voices of those I loved as they contemplated our escape from Italy. There was no sense of danger, no condemnation for my behavior, just casual chit chat born of familiarity and companionship that made up the lives of those I was so eager to run away from. For now I would only listen and take comfort from their voices, relish their scent, indulge in believing I could truly rejoin them and become a member of this gentle loving family again. Now was not the time to worry about what lay ahead, how I would deceive them and suppress the horrific needs of the monster I'd become.
I kept my eyes closed, hiding from Esme evidence of my abominable deeds clinging to hope that she was ignorant of them and I sighed contently feeling her fingers trace the curves of my face, through her eyes, at least for now, I was not a monster, but her son.
Author Notes:
So are you completely confused? Let me explain Carlisle's rather passive plan of rescue. Edward's mind reading ability is approximately three miles. The ability to hear in vampires is considerably less and the enhanced sense of smell is dictated by a lot of things, namely the wind and obstructions manmade and natural. Carlisle simply used Alice to gauge the success of the rescue attempt and to guide him when Edward strayed off course. Alice's thoughts were her own which she translated verbally to Carlisle outside of Edward's range of hearing. The Volturi guard generally only patrolled the area within the city and it would only be by chance that they would catch wind of Carlisle as he remained safely out of their patrol area. He filled Edward's mind with the countless memories of him using the underground passageways to exit the castle, usually to hunt. Edward had always been given free rein of the castle and tunnels so no one questioned him when he disappeared into them.
I likened the persistent nature of Carlisle's thoughts to that of the Patrick Swayze character in Ghost when he sang "I'm Henry The VIII, I Am" over and over to Whoopie Goldberg to get her to do his bidding. That is how I imagine Carlisle was as he bombarded Edward with his thoughts encouraging him to follow him into the tunnels.
I had this chapter in my mind from the moment I started writing this story. Rather than ending it at Edward and Carlisle's embrace, I added a couple more paragraphs to include Esme. With all the hell Edward suffered through, I wanted the reunion to be more than just a few words and a hug.
The next chapter will be from Carlisle's POV. It's hard for Edward to access his own mental health, so we will see it through Carlisle's eyes instead.