It will never be easy. Carlisle made his life.
He made his own choices. (That promise.)

And what Carlisle, this one here, asks, now. Still the same and not yet. Maybe not ever. How does one figure out whether one is dealing with an alternate universe or potential undoing their own existence.

And that request. That request smacks of so many things.
So many things that have not happened to him.
Centuries yet found or survived through.


Edward leaned into the hand above him, trying to keep his voice toward some level of wry, "You will realize at some point I am tragically accomplished, and incompetent, at that."

It fails though, on the follow through. "Especially with you."