Yes, it's me, guilty pleasure queen. I recently discovered a discussion of Carlisle/Bella as a ship and honestly…yeah, I'm here for it. The first chapter borrows some direct dialogue from New Moon, but veers off course later on. From this chapter on, some canon will remain while most will be thrown out the window. I wanted to show the experience of the entire family as shifts in relationships are made, new discoveries happen, and fate plays out as it chooses to do so. Enjoy!
One-Carlisle
"It's going to happen whether any of us what it to or not."
Alice's words are as much a warning as they are a promise. We gather around the dining room table; it only ever sees use when we have family meetings. This is not one of our more pleasant meetings. A sea of somber topaz eyes stare back at me. I hold my hands up in a show of surrender.
"Why do I get the feeling you're in the 'want it to happen' camp, Alice?" Rosalie hisses. Edward, his eyes never leaving mine, says,
"Because she is." His voice is laced with anger, pain, and something close to desperation.
"We can't control some fates," Alice says with a shrug. "My visions are never an exact science, and they depend on the choices of others. Edward, don't place the blame entirely on Carlisle. This wouldn't be a potential future without Bella's input, too." Edward snarls at the insinuation against Bella.
"Nothing has happened," I protest. "We're still here, and nothing has changed."
"Yes, but it's going to," Edward says. "I've seen what Alice has seen. Something is changing-it's unavoidable. Factors are variable, but Bella…," he trails off, worrying his bottom lip. It is uncharacteristically human of him.
"She's almost here," Esme whispers. I bring my eyes to her wide, sad eyes. They are eyes I've looked at every day for almost a century. She jerks her head toward the stairs, and then exits towards them. I follow her, but I am not deaf to the whispers that follow us out.
The door to my study snaps shuts quietly. Esme stands, leaning against my desk as she faces me. I open my mouth to speak, but she holds up a hand to stem the words.
"I know, Carlisle," she says. "And for what it's worth, I'm in Alice's camp as well."
My eyebrows snap together in surprise.
"How?" I ask. "How are you in Alice's camp? How have you accepted this so readily?" How are you so unendingly gracious? I do not verbalize my final question, but she sees it in my face. A small hand cups my cheek. I fold my own over hers.
"Oh, Carlisle," Esme breathes. "I've accepted many things in my time, the most important being that you are a good man." She emphasizes the final two words. I fight a scoff rising in my throat. "You are, Carlisle. Things happen when they happen for reasons."
Below us, I hear greetings and wishes for a happy birthday as Bella enters our home. I imagine Edward wrapping a particularly possessive arm around her waist, a blush staining her cheeks at the show of affection in front of the others. This party was not her idea.
"What can I do, Esme?" I ask; I do not try to hide the desperation in my voice.
"Let nature run as it will," she answers. "We are so used to having the advantage and using it to create a different future. Perhaps it is time for us to see what fate holds. In the meantime, there is a birthday party we need to get to. We don't want the guest of honor to think we don't love her." It's an odd choice of words but I know that it was intentional.
We are ripped from our conversation at the sound of shattering glass. The unmistakable scent of Bella's blood fills my nose and in a moment, I am down the stairs and crouched on the floor. I am the only one unaffected by the smell, centuries of medicine behind me.
"Emmett, Rosalie, get Jasper outside," I command. He struggles as they grip him around either arm. Jasper's eyes are black and wild, nostrils flared as he inhales deeply. I know that he has gotten the taste of her scent on the back of his throat, and the only thing to break that spell is space. His teeth glisten with venom as he stares at Bella-he does not see her, but only a meal. Edward crouches over Bella on her other side, a barrier between him and any threat Jasper may pose. His face is paler than I've seen in some time, and he has resolutely shut off his breathing. Rosalie and Emmett wrangle Jasper from the room. As they go, Rosalie casts a long look at Bella, a mix between smugness and anger.
Esme cries an apology as she, too, leaves the room-the smell is too much. Glass turns to dust under my knee as I lean forward to examine the gash on Bella's arm. She watches me with shocked eyes. When I look up, she quickly tries to rearrange her features to something for neutral. Alice offers me a towel to stop the blood, but I shake my head.
"Thank you, Alice, but there's too much glass in the wound." I rip a piece of tablecloth off and tie a tourniquet above Bella's elbow. The sharp and sudden scent of sweat mingles with blood. I glance at Bella again to see her pale and sweating; she's on the brink of fainting.
"It's her blood," Edward manages through grit teeth. "Blood makes her ill."
I take the towel offered by Alice to wipe Bella's forehead. She takes in small, sharp breaths in an attempt to stay conscious.
"Stay with me, Bella," I say soothingly. "Do you want me to drive you to the hospital, or would you like me to take care of it here?"
"Here, please," she whispers. Her voice is tiny, almost unintelligible even to our ears.
"I'll get your bag," Alice says before she sprints out of the room. Edward lifts Bella and brings her to the table as I maintain a steady pressure on her arm. For the moment, our earlier discussion has been laid aside. Edward's face is impassive, trained on Bella. Alice returns with my bag and we rearrange to a seated position. I begin my work on her arm immediately. Edward hovers over Bella as I work, still holding his breath. His eyes have gone black with the effort, and Bella cues into it at once.
"Don't be a hero," she whispers. Her voice is more steady now than before. "Carlisle can fix me without your help. Go get some fresh air." Her face pulls into a pained expression as some of the sterile alcohol drips into her open arm. I made a sympathetic face but only listen as Bella and Edward go back and forth. Her anxiety causes her heart to speed up, and a renewed stream of blood releases.
"Edward, you may as well go find Jasper before he gets too far," I tell him. She's worried and it's impacting my ability to stitch her well, I add, grateful that I do not have to say it outload. Her blood pressure can't settle with you here. His eyes narrow as Alice and Bella adamantly agree with me and I can see him weighing his options in his head. With a growl, he gives a nod and sprints out the back door, into the night. "Still doing okay?" I murmur. Bella nods. "I'm going to numb you, so you'll feel a pinch. After that, you shouldn't feel anything. Tell me if you do." She nods again.
As I pluck tiny shards from her arm, I feel her eyes analyzing me. I am not unused to patients watching as I work on them, and I do not give it a second thought. From my right, I feel Alice finally give in and slip away as well.
"Well, that's everyone," Bella says with a sigh. "I can clear a room, at least."
"It's not your fault," I tell her, chuckling at her tone. "It could happen to anyone." I chance a glance at her face. Her brown eyes, usually full of life, are dull and disappointed.
"Could," she repeats, "but it usually just happens to me." I laugh again. For a time, there is only the sound of glass hitting metal as I remove each shard and drop them into a bowl beside me. "How can you do this?" she demands suddenly. I look up at her; her brow is furrowed and the disappointed look is gone from her eyes. Instead there is an intense concentration, a puzzle that needs to be solved by her. She watches me intently as if the answers will suddenly scroll across my face like a news banner.
"Three hundred years of practice," I tell her. "I barely notice the scent anymore."
"Do you think it would be harder if you took a vacation from the hospital for a long time and weren't around any blood?" Still trying to solve the puzzle.
"Maybe," I say with a shrug. "I've never felt the need for an extended holiday. I enjoy my work too much." I flash her a grin and she swallows hard. Her pulse speeds up for just a moment before settling again and I drop my smile. She may be more resilient than most, but she is still a human, after all.
"What is it you enjoy?" she challenges. Her voice is confused, determined. It's as much a strategy to keep her mind off of the procedure as it is to solve her mystery. I throw her bone.
"It's pleasant knowing that, thanks to what I can do, some people's lives are better because I exist. Even the sense of smell is a useful diagnostic tool at times." I smile a half-smile, determined to keep the unintended charm to a minimum. She's silent, and I think I've answered enough to her satisfaction, but then she comes right back at me.
"You try very hard to make up for something that was never your fault," she says quietly. My hands still for a moment as I thread the needle. I forget how perceptive she can be-has been from the start. I don't respond and she continues in clarification. "What I mean is, it's not like you asked for this. You didn't choose this kind of life, and yet you have to work so hard to be good."
"I don't know that I'm making up for anything," I say lightly. We're veering into personal territory and a philosophical discussion that I'm not sure either one of us is ready to have. "There we are," I say as I knot the stitches. "All done." I wipe her arm down with an antibacterial glaze, and her skin turns orange from it.
"In the beginning, though, why did you even think to try a different way than the obvious one?" She's nothing if not persistent.
"Hasn't Edward told you this story?" I ask as I set to work clearing up any remnants of glass and blood. She nods.
As I work, I remind her about my father, about the vitriol he taught. The conversation takes a philosophical turn anyway, and the conversation comes around to the eventual time when Bella herself will join this family. She reminds me unsubtly that I have the ability to change her myself, and I let out a laugh.
"You can take that up with him," I tell her. I extend my hand and help pull Bella into a standing position. She sways for a moment and I wrap an arm around her. "Are you alright?"
"I think so," she says. I chuff her under the chin lightly and she gazes up at me with an inscrutable look.
"I suppose I should take you home now," I tell her.
"I'll do that," Edward says, striding back in through the dining room. His face is unreadable and there is a twisted determination in his eyes. He is working hard at hiding something from both of us, but Bella keys into immediately. Her heartrate stutters as she takes Edward in.
"Carlisle can take me," she says. We both look at her; blood has stained and spread through her shirt, still wet and pungent. Her shoulder is covered in frosting. "I…need a different shirt, though," she adds unsurely. "Charlie will have a heart attack if I come home looking like this." She looks at Edward anxiously again.
"I'll have Alice get you something," he says tonelessly. He turns hard on his heel and walks out again. Bella turns to me, anxiety all over her face.
"He's very upset."
"Yes," I agree, because there's no point in lying to her. "Tonight, you being put in danger because of what we are…it's what he fears most."
"It's not his fault!" she cries with frustration.
"It's not yours, either." We hold each other's gaze for a moment before she breaks away. I know she does not agree with me. We go back into the main room. Esme is mopping the floor where Bella fell. The smell of pure bleach is sharp in the air.
"Esme, let me do that," Bella says, rushing forward. She grabs a cloth from the bucket and drops to her knees, scrubbing voraciously. Esme gently pulls her back up, wrapping Bella in a hug.
"I'm already done, Bella," she says with a smile. "How do you feel?"
"I'm fine," Bella mumbles into Esme's shoulder. "Carlisle sews faster than any other doctor I've had."
Alice leads Bella upstairs to change her shirt. I hear Bella whisper as they go.
"How bad is it?"
"I'm not sure yet," Alice confesses. "And Jasper…he's very unhappy with himself. It's all so much more of a challenge for him."
"You'll tell him I'm not mad at him, not at all, won't you? It's not his fault. I'm the one with the stupid blood." Bella's voice is pleading.
"Of course."
They re-enter, and Bella casts an unsure look between us all as she gathers her coat. Alice pulls together the presents from the evening, dumping them into Bella's arms. Bella mutters a thank you, and then apologizes again. Alice and Esme wave her apology away, but Edward remains silent.
"I'll see you soon?" she asks. Edward hesitates and then nods curtly once. Bella's breath catches as she turns from Edward, who has become indistinguishable from a statue. I clasp his bicep hard, trying to put all of my reassurance into that gesture. He does not speak. In the reflection of the windows, I see Alice and Esme exchange unsure glances.
Bella slides into the passenger side of her truck wordlessly. At the sight of the cartoonish red ribbon attached to her radio, she lets out a growl and rips the ribbon off. She sniffs once, hard, and then crosses her arms and stares out the window.
"This has changed everything," she finally says. "Something is different about Edward."
"Think about if the roles were reversed, Bella," I offer gently. "If Edward were hurt because of you, what would you do?"
"I could never forgive myself," she whispers. "I'm sorry, Carlisle. I didn't mean to hurt your family. I didn't mean…" She sniffs once, and then again, and this time I can smell the salty tears. I pull over on the secluded shoulder.
"Come here," I tell her, opening my arms. She hesitates, and then scooches into me until she has curled against my body. She shakes as the dam opens and she cries until the front of my shirt is wet. "You have nothing to worry about, Bella," I say, running a soothing hand over her hair. "My family has known from the start what a human knowing our secret could mean for us, and we chose you anyway." Rain has begun to fall, and it plinks against the tinny roof of the truck. Fat droplets drip onto the windshield and race toward the hood. It is the only sound the fills the silence for a time.
"Please forgive me," she whispers. Her words are swallowed up by my sweater. She tightens her hold on me, seeking comfort that is not entirely mine to give. "I promise I'll do better."
"Bella," I respond, "you've done nothing to warrant forgiveness. You're human-humans get hurt and make mistakes. Please hear me when I say that."
She is silent again, and then her breathing evens out. She has fallen asleep, emotional exhaustion and pain taking over anything else. I drive her home carefully.
The road turns bumpy and uneven and it jostles her awake as we turn into her driveway.
"Charlie!" she cries suddenly. She wipes at her face and then straightens her clothing. The front porch light flicks on at the sound of Bella's engine cutting. When Charlie realizes who has driven her home, he rushes outside.
"Dr. Cullen?" he asks. He races over to the passenger side to make sure his daughter is okay. "Bells? What's going on?"
"I…got hurt," Bella says. "Carlisle drove me home because I was too tired." The lie is clunky but Charlie doesn't question it.
"What does that mean?" Charlie asks, his eyes finding mine.
"Bella tripped over an entry step and unfortunately found our accent table to catch her fall," I say smoothly. "The glass broke her fall, but it also caused a nasty gash. I stitched her up and she's good as new, but she'll want to take some ibuprofen and get some ice on that before she goes to bed tonight."
"Lucky you were there, doc," Charlie says, rubbing a hand over the back of his head. "You available for hire as a personal doctor?" He's joking to lighten the mood, but it doesn't fully cover the concerned quaver in his voice.
"I'm always available for Bella," I promise. "No hiring needed."
"Thanks again," Charlie says, leading Bella toward the home. "Say, how're you getting home if you drove Bella's truck?"
"Esme will be by to pick me up shortly," I say. Charlie nods and turns away, refocusing on Bella. Bella turns to look at me over her shoulder.
"Thanks, Carlisle," she says. "And I'm sorry again. You know, about the table."
"Never apologize for being you, Bella," I tell her. I level her with a look, and she bites her lip before going inside with her father.
When I return home, Edward is gone.