AN: Thank you for the reviews, you are all so kind! I will hopefully fit in one more chapter after this before I take a break for a couple of weeks (traveling home for the holidays). If you'd like to see what kind of manor house the Cullens have in this chapter you can Google Image search "half-timbered manor house Normandy" to get an idea!
Carlisle's POV
Within minutes of our departure from Briançon, Bella was nodding off once again. I was glad to see her rest, knowing that it was one of the last chances she had to disappear into the quietude of sleep. The thought of the impending transformation that was being thrust upon her made my chest tighten. It wasn't that I was against the idea of her becoming like us, quite the opposite. I knew it was necessary and ultimately inevitable. It was the circumstances that left me feeling grief-stricken. This would be the first time I would change someone who wasn't gravely ill or injured. The first time I would be stealing someone in (nearly) perfect health from their mortal life and damning them to one of immortal bloodthirst. Though in some ways she was just as much at risk of perishing as the others had been if I did not act. I had no reason to believe that Aro would not follow through exactly as he had warned.
Bella and I had not spoken much beyond discussing the logistics of our escape from the Volturi and consequent travels north. Besides her hug back in Volterra and the tearful beginning to our drive, she had been making a valiant effort to contain her feelings. I still could not be sure why. Was she more angry with me than she let on? Overwhelmed by the traumatic chain of events that had unfolded over the last several days? Or perhaps she was afraid of opening up and being hurt again so deeply? For even though she had not spoken about it, there had been enough clues to signal to me how traumatizing our departure had been the previous autumn. The thought left me heavy-hearted. But it also caused a spark of anger to flash through me. Anger at Edward for the pain he had caused her. Anger at myself for allowing him to go through with it. I sighed, oh Bella, what have we done to you? I looked over at her as she slept, promising to myself that we would not let her down again.
The hours that followed were uneventful as we sped through the French countryside. I had decided to avoid the freeway in favor of the smaller backroads where there were fewer cars and fewer chances of being caught speeding by one of the French radar cameras. Not to mention there were no tolls to slow me down. It had been decades since I had been back to the pays des lumières and if not for the tragic circumstances of my return I would have found myself fascinated to see how everything had evolved in that time. But as it were, my focus was on Bella. Despite the exhaustion evident in her eyes, she spent most of the trip watching the scenery as it blurred past out the window. Fighting sleep for hundreds of kilometers. At least I was relieved to see that the pain medication had alleviated some of the discomfort in her arm and ribs.
As the car raced further west, the sun began to set and within a couple of hours I was turning onto the long driveway that led to our home. My foot twitched slightly, urging the car forward even faster. I was impatient to hold Esme in my arms. When I had spoken with her that morning and explained to her about Bella's appearance in Volterra she had been devastated. That's not to say she was not overjoyed to reunite with her, but she was also horrified by what Bella had gone through and would soon have to endure. I had shared my concerns with her about Bella's possible reaction to reuniting with everyone at once and Esme had asked the others to give us a day or two with her first. Alice had been reluctant to postpone her reunion with her best friend and almost-sister, but she soon saw that things would go more smoothly if there weren't five vampires waiting for Bella in the entry hall upon our arrival.
Bella had finally given in to her fatigue and fallen asleep again after our final stop outside of Orléans. She was still sleeping soundly in the seat beside me when the 300-year old half-timbered home came into view, the lights out front casting a warm glow over the gravel drive. As the car came to a stop the front door opened and Esme rushed out. Stepping from the car, I felt myself pulled into the embrace I had feared I would never get to experience again. Her arms swung up and rested on my shoulders, her hands clasped into the hair at the nape of my neck. The aroma of baking bread and blooming sweet peas clouded my thoughts, acting as a balm to my anxiety. "Carlisle," the tremor in Esme's voice as she murmured my name replaced the tears she could not shed. There was no need for her to say more. After nearly a century together I felt her emotions almost as acutely as my own. Clutching her against my chest, I laid my cheek on the top of her head and sighed in relief. It seemed impossible that hardly more than a day had passed since we had forced ourselves to say goodbye in this exact spot. How had I ever let her go?
"I'm here, I'm back. We're okay, love." She pulled away slightly, grasping my arms in both of hers as she looked me over. Taking her own assessment. Nodding, she allowed a small smile to spread across her face, satisfied that I had returned to her in one piece. Having at last found solace in each other's company, the strain of the past 24-hours slipped away from us both.
Esme's attention turned to the car behind me and the girl asleep in the front seat, sadness flooding her features. Her eyes looked back up into mine as she asked, "How is she, Carlisle?" Her concern for the daughter she never stopped loving was undeniable.
Her expression was an uncanny replica of the look she had worn when I had told her that I was accepting Edward's wishes to leave Forks. Upon hearing his idea, Esme had been cross. A rare occurrence for my otherwise tender-hearted mate. She had spoken her piece, warning him that playing the martyr in this situation would only hurt them both, reproaching him for making such a drastic decision without Bella having a say. But when I had ceded to Edward's arguments, Esme's face had fallen, dejection evident in every soft feature. Seeing such sadness in her eyes had almost caused me to go back on my word to our son. In our state it was rare to feel any kind of physical pain, but seeing the hurt I had caused my love had made me feel as though my legs would give out beneath me.
I focused my attention back on the present. Back on Bella. "She hasn't told me much, but I think she is doing okay, all things considered."
Doing my best to open the passenger door without waking her, I bent down and scooped Bella into my arms. She gave a slight stir and mumbled, "Please, no. Let go of my arm." I froze, worried she had woken up and that despite my gentle intentions my grip was hurting her. But Bella's eyes remained closed as she continued to mumble incoherently. Esme watched her with a heartbroken frown. I carried her inside as fast as I dared, impatient to get her settled more comfortably after so many hours in the car.
Her bedroom was on the top floor of the house, one of several that lined the long hallway. A crackling sound greeted me as we approached and I realized Esme must have lit a fire in the rarely used fireplace. It warmed the otherwise chilly space. Moonlight streamed in through the dormer window, falling across the worn oak floorboards. Someone had made up the bed with fresh linens and as I laid Bella down, Esme pulled the comforter up to her shoulders.
Before taking our leave, we paused in the doorway. Esme wrapped her arm around my waist and settled her head against my shoulder, her eyes never leaving Bella's sleeping form.
"This isn't how it was supposed to happen."
I frowned, imagining how things would have gone differently if we had never left. If we had not forsaken the human girl who had done nothing but love our son and accept us for what we were. Guilt flooded through me. We would have still been in Forks and Bella would still be able to sit down to dinner every evening with her father. Her human life would be progressing as it should, with birthdays and milestones and growing friendships with those around her. Yes, one day she would have been confronted with the transformation. It was the one vision of Alice's that had never wavered. But there would have been no rush. No imperative to precipitate the life-altering change.
Sighing, I bowed my head, the shame I felt weighing it down, "We have much to make up for. Hopefully she will allow us the chance to do so, even if it is more than we deserve."
Bella's POV
"Bella! Bella, wake up! Bella, sweetheart, you're safe!" A voice was trying to drag me from the depths of my routine nightmare. In the hazy realm of the half-asleep, half-waking world I tried to decipher who was speaking to me. At last my eyes snapped open.
"Esme!" Without thinking I leaped up and wrapped my good arm around her neck. The sobs that erupted must have been a blend of my residual fear from the vivid dream, of the pain in my arm and chest from my sudden movement, and the sight of her soothing presence in front of me. I felt her stiffen under my grasp and I instantly pulled back, looking away in embarrassment.
"No, Bella, it's quite alright. You just surprised me." Esme smiled reassuringly and sat down on the edge of the bed. The movement drew my attention to my new surroundings. She waited as my head swiveled in each direction.
"Where are we?" I knew the plan had been to rejoin the family at their home in Northern France, but I wanted to know more.
Esme looked at me. Though she was still smiling warmly, her eyes betrayed a deeper concern. "Are you okay, Bella? You have been screaming in your sleep for several minutes, nothing I was doing to wake you seemed to be working."
A sheepish look came over my face and I turned to look out the window. "Oh, yeah. I'm, uh, I'm used to it. Don't worry." I didn't want to divulge the details of my nightly terrors. Her son's desertion, his biting words, my own stumbling through the forest in a fruitless attempt to follow him. The only difference this time was the addition of a convulsing Carlisle, lying on the forest floor in the spot where Edward had been.
I could tell she saw right through my attempts to brush off her concern. Her sad smile as she nodded along to my evasiveness told me she knew exactly what I was keeping from her. Thankfully she let the subject go.
"We are at our home in Lonlay-l'Abbaye. You and Carlisle arrived late last night. We didn't want to wake you so we took the liberty of carrying you up to your room. I hope that is alright?"
Some part of me thought I should be feeling more angry. Angry about someone using their superhuman strength to carry me inside like a child. Angry about being here. Here with people who I had always trusted before they had disappeared from my life overnight. This bitter voice kept pushing snide comments up the back of my throat. As though to say, come on, spit it out, tell them how much they hurt you.
But I could not bring myself to do it.
Because if I was honest with myself, I was elated to find myself sitting across from Esme. I knew eventually the tragic nature of what led me to this moment would hit. And I would be disgusted with myself for allowing such feelings of warmth to flood through me at the sight of her and Carlisle. Had I already forgotten my own parents? And the despair they were surely experiencing at my sudden violent disappearance? I could only grapple with one source of grief at a time.
"That's fine. Thanks, I guess I must have been really tired…"
Esme went to stand up, "Would you like me to let you get some more rest?"
"No! I mean, I'm alright now. What time is it? I think I will just get up. Maybe find something to eat." I wasn't particularly hungry. But I didn't want to fall back asleep and worry them with more of my nightmares.
"Of course," Esme gave a small smile. "Would you like me to show you the way down to the kitchen?"
I nodded and stood up. The aching in my ribs had thankfully begun to subside, leaving a dull throb. However, my arm still caused me a considerable amount of pain, I hoped Carlisle would be able to give me more of whatever I'd taken the day before.
Following behind Esme, I marveled at the home I now found myself in. It was obviously very old, the wide planks beneath my feet creaking every few steps. It did not feel as lived-in as their home in Forks had, the walls were bare, the shelves only half full. But it was just as grandiose. I wondered how long it had been since they'd been here last. Down on the main floor we passed through a doorway into an expansive room. Exposed wood beams on the ceiling ran the width of the entire space. A kitchen took up one whole corner. And on the far wall was an ancient-looking stone fireplace. Carlisle sat in a leather chair, his fingers flipping the pages of a book every few seconds. When he heard us enter he gently closed the book and placed it on the table in front of him.
"Good morning, Bella."
I knew he had likely heard my screaming and the conversation with Esme that ensued. But after living and working amongst humans for so long he had mastered the habit of acting oblivious when it came to overhearing things no human could have heard.
"Good morning." My response was mumbled, I suddenly felt shy standing there with them both. The drama of the day before seemed distant. As though it had happened in a different life. My adrenaline had evaporated. But we all knew what was coming and no one seemed eager to broach the weighty subject. Thankfully Esme interrupted the loaded silence with a perfectly mundane detail.
"When I heard you were coming I went out and bought a few groceries. Bread, fruit, cereal. Would you like me to prepare something?"
I jumped at the chance to have an excuse for a distraction, "Oh no that's okay, I'll get it!" I walked into the kitchen and started by glancing in the fridge. Pulling out an apple I then moved on to the cupboards. After a couple of tries I found the one with the groceries she had mentioned and grabbed a small tub of oatmeal. While I worked cutting up the apple and stirring it into the oatmeal cooking on the stove, I attempted to listen to Esme and Carlisle's hushed conversation. Though it was nearly impossible to even hear that they were speaking in the first place.
Once my food was ready I sat down at one of the stools in the kitchen to eat. Within the first couple of bites Esme swept into the kitchen and busied herself with washing the handful of dishes I had dirtied. Carlisle joined us, leaning back against the counter next to Esme, a kitchen towel in his hand to dry what she had already finished cleaning. I could sense that they wanted to speak with me so I cut in.
"Where are the others?"
They shared a glance before Carlisle answered, "We suggested they take a day or two and go hunting. We weren't sure if you'd want to see everybody right away."
Before I could censor myself, a derisive huff of air escaped out my nose. I groaned internally at their questioning looks, realizing I should explain my cold reaction. "You can tell me the truth, you know. If they didn't want to be here that's fine." I was staring intensely at my almost empty bowl of oatmeal, willing a hole to open up at the bottom and swallow me whole. Was this it, then? Was I just going to spill all of my insecurities to them? The idea was tempting. But also terrifying. A more vengeful person would tell them everything, tell them how bad things had gotten, wanting to make them feel as badly as I had. But I was not that person.
It was Esme that responded, her voice soft. "No, of course not, Bella. I practically had to push them out the door. Alice in particular."
My subconscious leaped for joy at her words. But the elation was short-lived. My conscious thought soon regained the upper hand and silenced the hopeful one trying so desperately to claim victory. Esme was the most loving, kind-hearted person I had met, of course she would want to say something to soothe me. They had already left you once, so when they heard you were coming they leapt at the chance to disappear again. The two opposing sides within me continued to grapple with each other as I stared dubiously at Esme.
It was Carlisle that broke the silence, his words hesitant. "Bella, would you be comfortable sharing with us what happened? How did you end up in Volterra?"
I thought back to Jane's mocking tone. To how she had accused me of sharing their secret like some petty gossip. Surely the Cullens would have known me well-enough to know that I would never do such a thing.
My voice was quieter than I would have liked, "I didn't tell a soul about you guys. I swear, I didn't say a thing."
"We know, dear. Don't worry. We don't blame you in the slightest," Esme reassured me. Carlisle watched her as she spoke, his gentle expression echoing her words.
"It's stupid, really. I had been learning to ride a motorbike. And I was on my way home during a downpour." No need to say why or from where. "I must have taken the turn wrong and my wheels slid across the pavement. The bike dragged me down and I ended up in the ditch. As I was trying to figure out how I would get home while in so much pain, I heard a rustling in the woods. When I heard Edward's-" I cut myself off. I had gotten caught up in the memory of it all and said more than I had meant to. Though my slip-up of course hadn't fallen on deaf ears.
Carlisle, his expression thoughtful, asked, "When you heard Edward?"
As far as I could tell, hearing voices wasn't any more normal for vampires than it was for humans. "You're going to think I'm crazy," I muttered, my eyes beginning to sting as I clenched my jaw to keep from crying.
His voice softened, "I don't think you're crazy, Bella."
Taking a deep breath, I straightened up and rushed through the next part of the story. "I heard his voice. It was as clear as if he were right next to me. It had happened a couple of times before when I was in a particularly risky situation. But this time it felt even more realistic. He was telling me to get up. To get up and go, right away. For a split second I allowed myself to hope that he had come back and I spoke his name. It came out as a question, as though I were searching for him. But he wasn't the one to come walking out of the woods. It was Jane."
AN Pt. 2: So I have spent a lot of time thinking about how Bella would react to seeing the Cullens again. I try to imagine how I would react. SM basically skimmed over four months of what seems to be debilitating depression on Bella's part, and I don't think coming out of that she would A. Get super angry and "fuck all of you" as in some other stories. It feels too out of canon to me. and B. I don't think she would be a complete puddle of crying. I think she would be very conflicted, and I tried to express that in this chapter and hope to delve into that more in the next one.