1922, Pittsburgh.

[ofthefamily]

The trail of bodies is indistinct and only a trail at all if you knew what you were looking for. No human did.

When dead-on-arrivals start coming in from the Southside Slopes on a daily basis instead of sporadically, with wounds no one can explain --

Edward, Carlisle thinks carefully to the bronze-haired boy sitting in a second-year anatomy class two floors up from Carlisle's rounds as the newest doctor on call, I have to go pay a housecall.

With clouds descending over Pittsburgh, Carlisle takes a walk.

Comments

[themidnightson]

Edward's frown hardened more, a confused note to it for the concise mirroring response being all he got. "I don't understand the reference."

[ofthefamily]

"It means -- "

What does it mean, to Carlisle? He barely believes it happens, though he has heard the stories.

"It is when one human's blood in particular...calls to one of us. Drawing us to them more so than the others. Some consider it a sign of fate having brought a human to them to change and take as a partner. Others consider it a weakness to be so attracted to a human that they kill them immediately.

"He wanted to know if I had been drawn to you in such a way."

[themidnightson]

"The more I hear of them, the less sense they make," Edward said, shaking his head.

It was a preposterous supposition. Fairytale myths even for their illustriousness inhumanity. As it must be if at over three hundred years and all his interactions Carlisle had no actual belief in the reference.

[ofthefamily]

"You are probably the closest to a cantate I'll ever have," Carlisle offers.

It makes sense, to a degree -- it took Carlisle nearly three hundred years, and he changes Edward.




"If that is worth anything."

[themidnightson]

The look, the one that responds, is all about questioning Carlisle on the use of his person in parallel to any of the Volturi's insanity. Even if the reluctance around the edges probably meant he got some part of the clinical compliment.

Though it doesn't amend looking away half second later. He was a catalyst, but Carlisle's made it clear enough for a while now that he's hardly singular in that occasion.

[ofthefamily]

Edward's lack of response confuses Carlisle. Edward is never quiet. Not when he wants to know something.

"What."

[themidnightson]

He doesn't say.

He doesn't want to lie.

The idea of holding back is new.

It's as devastating as it is helpful.





"Should we expect them to return in time?"

[ofthefamily]

"I doubt it. Say what you were actually going to say, Edward," Carlisle forces, nearly plaintive.

[themidnightson]

"I'd rather not," he starts, and wants to finish there. It's the most honest it'll get no matter how many words he adds, how descriptive he could get, how honest or dishonest he becomes from here. But the doleful note in Carlisle's voice drives him to comply. "-be compared to the idealized fantasy of sycophantics."

Especially not the comparison Carlisle's making with it and the hypocrisy that is ripe in Edward for having to hear it.

[ofthefamily]

"Fair," Carlisle offers finally.

It's not what he had been expecting.

You were always more than your blood, to me. It is what makes me different. It is what makes you different. For better or for worse.

A flicker of memory -- He wanted a higher calling, and he's going to die lying in his own shit -- arrives unbidden before Carlisle scatters it away so the pang of it can't take hold in his chest.

I had to go out and meet him, once I recognized it for what it was. I was telling you to go home because I did not know --

-- if he would try and attack me
-- if he had been here for you
-- if he would try to attack Esme
-- if he had been here for you I would have ripped joint from socket --

[themidnightson]

"You-" It was hard and still, right as Edward closed his mouth on the word, having not meant for that part of it come out.

[ofthefamily]

"Stop that and tell me." I can't deal with that right now Edward.

[themidnightson]

It takes a while, there are no false starts, but there is a forced exhale. "You actually thought I'd listen." Beat. "Still think I should have."

Edward shook his head, lips hardening pressed together.

"It's one thing to request that I stay with her while you were-" there's not a pause her, but there's an outward wave with his hand. All words are too small for the thought; for the fact Carlisle Cullen beat a defenseless man, even if it was deserved.

"--but to think I'd just walk away, and go wait by her side in that house, while he was waiting for you to make the smallest mistake, fall for some provocation that would open other venues of response from him, or them-"

[ofthefamily]

Almost angry, "I am not incapable of defending myself, Edward."

[themidnightson]

"No, you're incapable of being inclusive."

He hadn't meant to say that. He swore under his breath.


"I didn't mean that." He didn't.

Even if it was true, sometimes, lately.

[ofthefamily]

Yes you did mean that. You've never said anything to me that you didn't mean.

Deeper, quieter, a You expect three hundred years of habit to be obliterated in a mere four

If the Volturi ever were to lay their hands on you, I would not be able to stop them from twisting you to their ways. You would fault me for wanting to keep you safe because that prevents you from, what? Coming to my rescue?


Why should you?

It's a rare emotion for Carlisle. Fear. He's panicked before, but fear is -- something else.

If I were to put you in harm's way --

[themidnightson]

"It's not all up to you," Edward snapped.

[ofthefamily]

What is he thinking? Carlisle asks himself desperately, hands still shoved into his pockets while keeping his face as unruffled as possible. There are so many things he could be referencing --

It's not that I don't trust you Edward --

Defeated, "Fault me if you wish to do so. I did what I thought was best."

[themidnightson]

"I know." It's not sharp this time. There's heaviness, impatience and remorse in his tone but none of them are exactly where the words come from.

[ofthefamily]

Is that not good enough?
Maybe you want them to see you
"That is unfair of me."
but with your regrets and secrets you don't really want them to be you

Did you have any other questions about the messenger? Carlisle hazards, before he continues to swallow his entire leg. There are certainly other things he could ask about. So Carlisle waits.

[themidnightson]

"Tell me about the worst inevitability with them. They make you-" he stopped eyes narrowing, because the words for thoughts and reactions are so strong and certain in Carlisle. "I don't have points of reference, except for what I have picked up."

Beat.

"And him."

[ofthefamily]

"The worst? They decide I -- we -- are exposing too much of ourselves to humanity at large and they send their emissaries to stop us."

Orange flames dance around behind Carlisle's gold eyes. He's seen what the emissaries are capable of when ordered to a task.

A flicker of subconscious amusement. I think they would find me a stronger man than the one who left.

[themidnightson]

That is troublesome.

The images, not the statement.



"And for me?"

[ofthefamily]

The amusement rises to the forefront.

They wouldn't know what hit them. To use a phrase.

[themidnightson]

"That's not what I meant."

There's a serious, if uncertain, glance.

"Tell me my worst inevitability where it comes to them. When you get close to the idea it all--" he made a face. It jumbled. Carlisle didn't even get close to the thought without rage or fear or violent threats. All of which were not normal.