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The Newborn
By : belladonnacullen
Category: Twilight Series > Het
Views: 3452 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.
Chapter List
- 11
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I surprised Carlisle by enrolling into pre-medicine classes at the University of Rochester. Both he and Esme had assumed I would prefer the Eastman School of Music. I couldn't speak to them about that. There were some discussions that I couldn't have without fear of hurting them, or saying something about myself that I couldn't take back. I didn't explain to them that I couldn't play the piano. It cut too close to my soul. I was afraid that opening myself up emotionally in that manner would result in splintered wood, a trail of dead humans, and two broken-hearted vampires. I would not do it.
Time passed and I felt I was doing as well as I could by my family. Life settled into a careful pattern. I dutifully attended classes, and the other students passed safely into and out of the lecture hall. Each night I hung in the back of class, practicing breathing and self-restraint. If it weren't for Carlisle, I would never have threatened the students with my close proximity. While my body could never ignore the humans around me, I worked to shut my mind off to them. I saw the necessity of keeping our lives separate from theirs. Carlisle might find solace in close contact, but he was an exception.
While my evenings were spent in class, my days were usually spent hidden among the cedars on the lake. As I walked along the water's edge, I saw myself reflected back in the cold slate-blue water, flat and empty. Often my mind would stray back to the night Tanya and I lied on the shore of the Hudson. That night I'd lamented that I didn't see the beauty around me anymore. If only I'd known. There was so much more I stood to lose.
Carlisle, Esme and I also fell into our pattern of gathering in the early morning after Carlisle returned home from his shift. I enjoyed watching Esme run into Carlisle's arms when he would return home, like the two hadn't seen each other in weeks. Carlisle would recount his evening's notable cases, and Esme would talk about her classes at RAMI, or explain her latest plans for the restoration of our house. I seldom found anything to add to their happy chatter, and they kindly left me to stare into a book, uninterrupted.
It was a morning such as this when something Carlisle mentioned managed to catch my attention.
Carlisle was rehashing the evening as he hung his coat and hat. "It was uneventful. Even the emergencies were quite easily handled. A sprained ankle, a case of bronchitis, a small boy brought in by his sitter with a bump to the head."
Carlisle crossed the room to give Esme a hug. "I missed you. There was something about that little boy and the woman that brought him in. She was so frightened for him, and treated him with such tenderness. It was touching." Carlisle held Esme to him. I listened to his thoughts as he compared Esme's love with the love the woman at the hospital showed the boy. "And we've met her," Carlisle added almost as an afterthought.
"We have?" Esme asked, looking up at Carlisle.
"Yes, at the hospital gala. Rosalie Hale."
My eyes snapped up at the name. Carlisle noticed my interest.
"You remember her, son?"
"I hate them. Each is more perfect than the rest. I'm just going to pretend that I never saw them. They don't come out much, thank God. People would forget about me if they did."
I smirked. "Well, yes. Her thoughts cut through all the others at that gathering that evening. She certainly felt differently about our family than anyone else in that room."
"And she was so pretty," Esme added. "She must be a remarkable individual to possess such beauty, original thoughts, and to care for that boy so."
I just shook my head, not wanting to tarnish the woman's name. She should be free to have whatever private thoughts she wanted, however distasteful they might be.
*
I was returning from class one blustery night in early spring. The weather hadn't changed yet and the cold wind stung my face and sent snow cascading over the frozen ground. I was about a mile from the house when I heard Carlisle and Esme conversing, their voices carried on the wind. Something about the hushed urgency of their words made me stop in my tracks and listen.
"Perhaps he needs more time? It hasn't been two years, Carlisle."
"There's been no change, Esme. As vampires, our natures become fixed easily. I'm afraid the pattern has been set."
"That sounds so fatalistic. You spent two hundred years alone, and something stirred in you to change."
"I was lonely, and there was something about the boy. I saw such light in him, even amidst all of the death in that hospital, that I had to have him. And then of course, my love, I saw you and that changed me forever."
"So it's the company of another. Edward has that; he has the both of us. We need to show our love. Perhaps we should force ourselves on him more, spend more time with him. We've been too careful around him."
"No dear, I don't think our love is enough. I found what I needed in this life, not what Edward needed."
"Than Tanya, perhaps. She would visit. Edward and Tanya have such a lovely time together."
"Sadly, I don't think either found what they were looking for in that relationship. At least that's how Tanya explained it to me. She was afraid her presence hurt more than helped the boy."
"Yes, I suppose if he wanted her he could just have easily telephoned as we could have."
"It pains me to see him walk through his days this way. I know that light I saw must still burn somewhere inside of him. The only thing he pursues of his own accord is solitude at the lakeshore. I thought its presence would help him, but it's only given him a route for his own self-torture. I worry that the melancholy has taken hold of him completely. I don't know what else to do for him. There must be something."
"Carlisle, I know how you love him. But you of all people should trust that fate has an answer."
At that moment I felt a shift in the wind. Cold air swirled around me before it blew at my back and forced my hair into my eyes. The voices of my parents began to fade, and I walked quickly toward the house to better hear the rest of the conversation.
"Esme, did you catch that scent?"
"It's Edward, he's close."
"Do you think?"
"Shh" Then they were silent.
I stopped in my tracks. All this time I'd been doing the best to help my family, and I'd only hurt them more. What did they expect from me? I'd done as much as I could. I did everything they asked of me. I had a clean record. I was there for their needs. There was nothing they asked that I didn't agree to, save hunting and playing the piano. I thought fleetingly of leaving, but knew I couldn't do that again. Instead I grit my teeth and stomped home.
Esme's warm smile greeted me at the door. "Edward, how was class?"
I brushed past her up the stairs. Why attend class if it didn't help? Why leave the house, why hold conversations if it didn't help? I remained in my room for days. Carlisle knocked on the door. I didn't answer. I sunk into myself like I'd never allowed myself before. What was the use of trying?
*
I'd been in my room for a week. I would have to feed soon. Venom would trickle into my throat with the faintest smell of human blood. I would stop breathing to better listen to the sounds of human heartbeats and their footsteps on wet sand. I'd read the same ten books more than twenty times each. I took to reciting them back to myself as I paced the room or sat unmoving at my desk.
Early one evening I was silently reciting "The Tell -Tale Heart" from memory, when I heard Esme's knock at my bedroom door. I jumped despite myself, but didn't answer. She knocked again, louder.
"Edward?" I was sure that she would go if I stayed quiet and still long enough.
"You're going to talk to me Edward," she thought at me with some force. And then, with a loud groan and a splintering of wood the door was off its hinges, held in Esme's small hands. She placed it gently on the ground in the hall and walked into my room. I jumped to my feet. She ghosted to my side and hesitated before gently placing her hand over mine.
"Edward, we're going to talk."
I took a breath before glancing into her eyes. They were full of concern and it shamed me. I looked away.
"I'm taking you out. We're going for dinner and a show."
I shook my head and was about to protest, but Esme covered my mouth with her hand. "Not a word, Edward. Carlisle doesn't think we should force ourselves on you. But I believe it must be done. You obviously are not going to help yourself."
She let go of my mouth and clenched my hand in hers. "Edward, look at me."
I was powerless to do otherwise. I cautiously raised my eyes to meet hers. "Please, as a favor to me. Come out with me tonight."
I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. "All right," I said in a whisper.
*
We ran swiftly through the sparse wilderness along the lake. Although running took no effort, my breathing was quick and fitful. Since my return I had hunted alone. I let Esme take the lead. She was so small and graceful, resembling a doe with her gentle movement through the trees. And then, like a whisper, I caught their scent. There was a small herd of deer behind the next sand bank.
My conscience felt like an invisible hand holding me back from the hunt. Would she see the difference in me? Would my brutality hurt her more? But my hunger was stronger than my insecurity. I ran to catch up with Esme and we worked together to trap the animals against the shore.
The deer met us head on, and we slowly backed them up to the lake. Their hind legs had just hit the water when Esme and I simultaneously pounced. I pivoted with the animal so that my back was to Esme, and I greedily sunk my teeth into her neck. Her limbs shuddered as I drank the salty life from her. Warmth coursed down my throat in time with her fading heart and immediately I could feel the individual grains of sand under my feet, the tree trunks smelled of resin and their budding leaves lent a fresh greenness to the night air. With the last drops of the animal's blood I heard the remainder of the herd running east along the shore, their musky odor receding into the night. Esme's skirt rustled behind me.
I stood, dropped the doe at my feet and straightened my suit.
"I knew this would work. You always were very neat when feeding."
I swung around to face Esme and shifted a little from foot to foot, suddenly uncomfortable. But she was smiling as she gave me an approving once over.
"Now was that so bad?"
Strangely, it hadn't been bad at all. I was invigorated. I felt Esme's love and companionship. It was wonderful to hunt with someone else. If there was a change in me, Esme hadn't let on. I looked at her and smiled.
She held out her arm. "Now for the show." The Eastman Theater was humming with excitement. One of Rochester's own, Cab Calloway, had returned with his travelling orchestra. He had risen to fame at my old haunt, The Cotton Club, and would alternate residencies with Louis Armstrong so that they could both tour the country. I felt a rush or excitement when I saw the marquee, but the swarming crowd stopped me in my tracks. Esme squeezed my hand. "A deal's a deal, Edward. You're going to enjoy this if I have to take you in by force."
I was glad to have fed. There was considerably less venom in my mouth than there would have been otherwise. I worked to block out the hum of thoughts and concentrated instead on Esme's hand. She led us to seats in the balcony, where there were fewer humans to distract me. Her intentions were clear as soon as Calloway and his orchestra took the stage. The man was an entertainer, his music full of folly, call and response, and tongue in cheek jokes. The audience laughed and shouted as much as they applauded.
I felt separate from those around me. Their joy wasn't mine and that hurt on a level that I couldn't name. But Esme's intentions warmed me. Perhaps I wouldn't ever be able to feel this joy that I witnessed tonight. Perhaps it would exist for me only as a faint memory. Maybe music would never transport me out of my body as it had before. There was a chance I'd never play piano again. But my family loved me, and that was something to be grateful for.
Esme and I walked to Lake Ontario before turning home. We followed a sandy trail through the cedars until we came to the deserted shoreline. She was barefoot and held her shoes in one hand and her skirt about her with the other. Stray locks of golden hair blew across her face in the damp breeze. "I wanted to ask another favor of you tonight."
I turned to look at Esme, but didn't commit myself to a favor. She went on, nevertheless.
"I want you back, Edward."
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean."
"Esme, I was doing my best. I was doing all I could."
"You were doing all you could for Carlisle and I."
"I'm sorry, Esme. What you're asking is impossible. The boy you knew is gone. He can't be saved."
Esme spun around to face me and grabbed my arm with force. "Don't say that again! I won't accept it."
I wrenched my arm away from her. "But it's the truth. Even Carlisle knows it."
"Edward, the concern you showed for Carlisle and I tells me that there is something within you that has been salvaged. Perhaps it's difficult for you to see yourself clearly, given the dark cloud of your recent past. But I see a young man struggling to do his best by his family, and I love that man. He wants the best for me. Now it's time to stop worrying about Carlisle and I, and to start making yourself a priority. This is what I am asking of you Edward. It's what I want more than anything. I want to see you struggle to do the best by yourself."
"I'm afraid, Esme. I'm afraid to confront what I've lost."
"It can be no worse than what you have already faced, can it?"
I didn't answer.
"Please, so that Carlisle and I can stop worrying."
I thought about the night Esme had forced on me. I thought about the measure of comfort it had brought me.
"All right, Esme, I'll try."
"No more hiding in your room. No more damnable college courses."
"Yes, Esme." I paused to look at her out of the corner of my eyes. "If I try, will I get my door back?"
"We'll see how well you do." She put her arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, smiling at me with only the faintest hint of sadness in her eyes. I clutched her free hand in mine. Maybe I could find a way back to myself.
*
On our way to the house we broke into a sprint at the water's edge. Cool droplets splashed up and wet our clothing as we ran. Spring was showing the very first signs along the lake. Bright green buds were swelling on branches, and the first green crocus shoots had just nudged themselves through the snow on the grassy hills along the shore.
But as we got closer to the house something unusual shattered the air. The sound of small irregular pounding came from the direction of the house. Then a woman's screams cut through the night. Esme and I came to an abrupt stop. The screaming continued. We were close enough for me to hear
Carlisle's thoughts.
"God, was this the right thing to do?"
Then his voice rose calm and reassuring. "I'll be here with you the entire time. I know it hurts, my dear. The pain will subside in three days time."
"What did you do to me?" the woman screamed.
"Please God, let this be the right thing for her, and for my family," Carlisle prayed.
"Kill me! Please kill me! Why don't you let me die?"
Esme's hands had fluttered up to her mouth; her eyes were wide with shock. "Oh my."
We ran back to the house and I threw open the door. Carlisle had heard our hasty approach and met us in the hall. The screaming continued in his study.
Esme ran to Carlisle and grabbed him by the arms, staring into his bright eyes. "Carlisle?" She invoked his name like a question. Her mind picked up where words failed her "What were you thinking? Why now? Why this woman? The poor thing!"
I pushed past them into the study. There, on his desk, lay one of the women I'd met months ago at the hospital gala, the woman Carlisle had spoken of weeks ago, the woman that despised me. Rosalie Hale. Her wild eyes caught sight of me. "Thank God! Kill me. Kill me! This man won't let me die." Tears streamed from her bloodshot eyes.
I spun around to face Carlisle. "What have you done?"
Esme still clutched Carlisle, and her eyes bore into his. "Carlisle, why?" she asked him.
"I couldn't just let her die." Carlisle stared back at Esme, communicating with her wordlessly, thoughtlessly, the way that the two of them were able to.
"And you thought that this might...? That this would work? But I just, Edward and I..." Esme stopped herself and looked in my direction, emptying her mind.
"I didn't have time to think it through. I couldn't leave her." Carlisle shook his head, his eyes pleading with his wife. His mind was curiously blank. This was all wrong, two blank minds and Rosalie Hale screaming in Carlisle's study. Another second passed and Carlisle's mind was again full of concern for the woman, Esme ran to find something to clean and clothe the girl with. Rosalie's dress was a mess of bloody tatters.
I didn't understand what had transpired between Carlisle and Esme. It happened so quickly that another might have missed it altogether. "Why wouldn't it work this time, Carlisle?" I asked. Once venom was in the human blood stream, there could be no other outcome. "And what were you thinking? Rosalie Hale?" I couldn't hide the disdain in my voice.
Rosalie turned her head at the sound of my voice. Her blue eyes were wild until they focused on me. For the quarter of a second that she was able to concentrate, they glowered with hate. Then her face contorted with pain and her back arched up off the table. "Aaahhh! Why? Why did you do this? God, the pain! Why are you burning me?"
Carlisle was at her side. He grabbed her hand and she screamed at his touch, but he held it tightly. "Let me explain it to you again."
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- 13
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The Newborn	By : belladonnacullen Category: Twilight Series > Het Views: 3452 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.

The Newborn