All the Love You Left Behind

Carlisle was not entirely sure how he'd arrived at this place. All he knew was that Esme did not expect him home for many more hours to come.

If only they had not cut his shift so short; if only they had not forced him to leave so early in the night. By the time Carlisle had exited the hospital doors, he had realized he did not even have his car keys on him. Instead of returning to his office, instead of changing into his winter coat and retrieving his things as he should have, he had continued on without misstep, bypassing his parked car entirely and turning to walk home, thoughts in a disarray.

He simply could not get the devastated image of the boy's face from his mind; nor that of his mother's. It had been a long time coming. Carlisle had known that. His patient's wife and adolescent son had known that. That the man had passed on on Christmas Eve of all nights was unfortunate, but not unexpected.

But every footstep, leadened with the weight of his heartache, had soon pushed Carlisle to collapse on the edge of a nearby park bench. The neighborhood houses around him sparkled, strings of electric lights draped generously along rooftops, twinkling brightly in the dead of night. He was only a few scant miles away from his own home, hidden neatly along the sprawling forests of Durand Eastman Park.

But the closer he drew, the harder it became. How could he face Esme tonight of all nights? What more could he say to comfort her? All the words had grown stale on his tongue, meaningless repetitions and empty platitudes. Carlisle could be no more certain than their current reality dictated, no matter how intensely he wished things were different. And tonight, he had walked away from a family that had it far worse than them; yet, Carlisle could not do away with his own misery.

The lost eyes of that young boy remained a permanent visage in his mind, haunting and bitter. And the longer he sat there, the more the face of that boy shifted and warped, until the face of an entirely different boy painted across his memories; the face of one whom he'd failed most utterly.

Carlisle hunched his shoulders and bent over, forearms braced against his knees, snow dusting across the mess of his tousled blond hair. The hurt was just as piercing as the day Edward had left them and he could do nothing for it. Those first couple years now felt like a faraway dream. Turning Edward had been the most difficult decision he had made in his life, but it had become his greatest joy.

Esme was his wife, but Edward…Edward was his first companion; the first of his family; the son he never thought he could have; his best friend.

And when he'd left, he had taken half of Carlisle's heart with him. And Carlisle had done his best to live around the gaping wound in his chest, had done what he could to comfort Esme, had clung to the hope that Edward would one day return. But as the months lengthened, his grip on that hope both loosened and tightened, until it became a twisted mockery of what had once been a firm and steady faith.

"Please God," he prayed, "bring him home."

The time for eloquent prayers had long passed. Carlisle had prayed every scripture, every Word he could think to, until all that was left was a raw desperation edged with hysteria; a fierce plea that there would be no first Christmas without Edward. But the midnight hour drew all the nearer with no sign of his wayward son.

"Please," he whispered again into the empty night, fingers weaving together, interlocking his hands into a clasp so tight, the tips of his fingers threatened to crack. "Please."

But all that answered him was a gentle wind whistling softly against his ears at a temperature colder than even his own skin; an intangible embrace; the sound of an unheard prayer.

Carlisle pressed his forehead against the knuckles of his clenched hands, eyes screwed shut against the coat of venom building in his eyes, throat tightening with a hot pressure that had no bearing on his thirst. The weight of grief calcified and cemented in the hollow cavity of his chest, growing so heavy, Carlisle didn't know if he'd ever be able to stand again, let alone reach Esme in time for the breaking of day.

The night stretched on, snow continuing to swirl sharply around him, whipping the collar of his doctor's coat against his neck. But Carlisle could not care about the possibility of any human finding him, even if he wished to. There was a cry snagged at the base of his diaphragm that he could not let out; he feared that if he wept now, he would not stop; not until his throat was cut up and his insides sucked dry of all blood, his chest punctured and cracked open for all to see. He refused to breathe at all, lips pressed into a white line, the entirety of his body a motionless statue; an attempt to keep all the pain he held in his frozen heart trapped inside him.

"Bit cold for a stroll, isn't it?"

The ice caught between his lashes instantly shattered as he opened his eyes. He sat up, his white coat shifting stiffly against him, the folds of fabric frozen against his skin.

"My apologies, sir," Carlisle spoke rigidly, though the song of his vampiric voice did not betray an ounce of his pain. "I did not see you there."

And that he had not was a testament to the agony he'd allowed to consume him.

The elderly gentleman sat at the other end of the park bench, seemingly not bothered by the gathered snow soaking into the fabric of his trousers.

"That's alright, son," the gentleman said, settling back against the bench, eyes skyward, flurries of snow kissing his cheeks. "It's much too dark to see anything out here."

Carlisle nodded, silent, gaze lost somewhere between the nebulous skies and shimmering Christmas lights.

"Do you live nearby?"

"Ah, yes," Carlisle answered belatedly.

"Don't you think you should be getting home then? You must have someone waiting for you."

Carlisle winced and dropped his head, pressing a hand to his face. "I do."

"And?"

"And," Carlisle heaved a tired sigh, "I…I do not know what to say to her anymore."

"I see," the gentleman hummed thoughtfully. "Perhaps, you don't need to say anything at all. Just being at her side should be easier, no?"

Carlisle felt as though he could cry all over again and roughly cleared his throat. "I think she would agree."

"Go to your wife, son. Tomorrow is another day and hope does not disappoint."

For a moment, Carlisle clenched his eyes shut against the despair that threatened to overwhelm him once more. Hope was a mere glimmer in his mind now, threatening to dissolve away lest he seize hold of it.

"All things are possible to him who believes," Carlisle whispered with a wretchedness in his heart, too quiet for any human ear, face still hidden beneath his hand. But he clung to his warped faith and it contorted all the more under the force of his desperation. "For You are great and do wondrous things. So I know that You can bring Edward home. I know it."

And for a moment, he saw it like a dream―Edward sitting at his piano bench in their parlor, face glowing with joy once more as he happily ran his fingers along the keys, Esme at his side. It was all he longed for and everything he held dear in his heart.

"Thank you," Carlisle said, opening his eyes and lowering his hand at last, turning to face the kind gentleman. But he had long vanished.

Stunned, he flew to his feet. He could not have disappeared so quickly. It was impossible to fool a vampire's extraordinary senses, and yet, there was no one but him and a fresh swirl of snowfall.

At last, Carlisle was forced to acknowledge that tonight was not the night to search for his aberrant helper.

"Thank you," he whispered again, lingering for seconds longer, until the winds grew so thick with flurries, even his own vision became impaired.

And so, he turned and melted into the night, a flash of white loping past the slumbering neighborhoods and towards the house where his beloved dwelled, awaiting his return.

(Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.)

A/N: Thank you for reading! Wishing everyone a happy holiday season! :)

NKJV Scripture Referenced: Romans 5:5, Mark 9:23, Psalms 86:10, Hebrews 11:1