#cullen oc

Carlisle checked his watch before briefly glancing up. His gaze traveled between the two girls sitting in front of him. For close to two hours the three of them had been sitting silently there in his office. Both girls had passed the time with their eyes diverted, heaving dramatic sighs, and tapping their feet while each tried to outlast the other. 

It was all just a bit of show for Rosalie—the fidgeting and the sighing. She could sit still for hours at a time without the need for sighing or toe-tapping, but the movements riled her younger sister. And Mia had passed the time unknowingly mirroring the sister she seemed so angry with. Carlisle found the slightest bit of intrigue in that, a bit of sweetness sowed in the way Mia’s subconscious could do that sort of thing even when she was seemingly so devoted to her anger. 

It metaphorically warmed Carlisle’s heart, but Rosalie didn’t see it in quite the same way. 

From the mirrored gestures, Rosalie drew the conclusion that her younger sister was just as annoyed as she was. And she explored Mia’s behavior no further once arriving at her verdict. Their anger was undeniably equal, though Mia’s—rather obviously—was unjustified. Rosalie nearly always believed that to be the case. She was convinced that Mia was always the one being overly dramatic, overly sensitive. Annoyingly human and childish and all of the things Mia couldn’t help but be guilty of. She was young. She was mortal. She was emotional. None of those qualities were necessarily bad things. Rosalie struggled to know that those features were simultaneously weaknesses and strengths her sister possessed because more relevant to Rosalie, they were options that no longer felt accessible to her personally. She distanced herself from their value as a protection to herself. 

But Carlisle knew at least one of them was available to Rosalie if she would allow herself to admit it, accept it as a strength and a bond rather than a weakness. But Rosalie had shied away from using or contemplating her emotions whenever she could. 

“Don’t you have to work today?” 

Carlisle had just glanced back down to his book when Mia spoke and he met his daughter’s eye. It was the first Mia had spoken since entering the office. 

“In a little over an hour,” he answered with a nod. 

Mia already knew as much. She was nearly as familiar with her father’s schedule as he was, but Carlisle suspected the girl was aiming to make a point, seizing an opportunity.

Carlisle would have been happy to continue on with the waiting as long as it took to get the girls talking once again. He had plenty to occupy himself with—his book, for one, and the more human of tasks he held within their family—balancing their finances and paying their various bills. He could continue on waiting for hours yet if it wasn’t for his shift at the hospital. 

But Carlisle imagined the girls were both growing bored with it by now, ready to move things along. They both knew the quickest way out was a resolution, but Rosalie and Mia were both stubborn. And they both touted more than a decade of experience exercising this particular type of patience. 

Carlisle wasn’t surprised they’d passed so much time already. He was familiar with their disagreements, well-acquainted with their stubbornness, but he still hoped they would have made more progress now. If he wasn’t also familiar with the beauty that was the two of them making up, the way they were always brought just a bit closer after a chasm was closed with Rosalie healed a bit of something Mia wasn’t aware she’d done to set up her sister’s perpetual anger by favoring Edward or one of the others a bit more than she’d favored Rosalie once upon a time...if Carlisle hadn’t been so familiar with all of that, he would have just let it go. But as it was, Carlisle had watched them fight and then grow closer over the years, the resolution of each argument repairing a crack, healing and correcting something after their relationship had been opened wide and allowed to reset. 

Eventually, he knew they’d understand each other well enough to be whole. 

Sometimes, Carlisle believed the girls were nearly there, nearly healed, but then there were days like this when something small would spark the two of them enough to bring on something like an explosion. There was little the family could do to settle them with Mia putting up her defenses against anyone who tried to sway her and Rosalie on the offensive. 

“Why are you smiling?” Rosalie asked, “You do know he’s not going to let us go just because he has to go to work?” 

Mia should’ve known as much, but there was some part of her that hoped her father would see the futility of continuing and let them go when it was time to prepare for his shift. 

“The choice as to when this ends belongs to the pair of you.” 

Rosalie scoffed. “Reconciliation or wither in Carlisle’s office for an eternity.” 

Mia shifted in her seat and picked at her fingernails. “You could try apologizing,” she suggested.

Rosalie scoffed. “I think it’s you who owes an apology.” 

As was often the case, Carlisle was of the opinion that both girls owed one another an apology, and while they were bickering—a behavior he did not love—he could at least see a way forward now that they were talking. 

“I think I’ll leave you two to talk more while I prepare to leave,” Carlisle said as he tidied his belongings and readied to leave them. 

“I don’t want to talk to her,” Mia groaned. “Can’t we just—”

“I’ll be back before I leave for the hospital.”

“See what you’ve done?” Rosalie asked. “If you’d just kept your mouth shut, he probably—”

“Can you just stop?” Mia asked. “Just stop talking for once!”

“Gladly,” Rose answered. “Because if I have to talk to you for a second longer, I will snap my own neck.”

“And if we’re lucky, someone close by will tip over a candle.” 

“Probably you,” Rosalie scoffed. “And you’d end yourself that way, too, you clumsy little—”

“This conversation stops right now.” 

Carlisle stopped, turning about on the threshold he’d just walked through. He lingered in the doorway and both girls sobered a bit under his gaze before scrambling for explanations. 

“Rosalie started it—” Mia began, only to receive a glare from her sister before Rosalie took over. 

“Carlisle, we were only—”

“We do not joke about death.” Carlisle shook his head. “Your existence is precious, both of you. You girls know that.” Carlisle sighed. He was trying to make a point, but the conversation also made him tired. The mere thought hurt whatever there was left of his soul. “Would you truly wish to imagine a world with either of you not in it?”  he asked. “I certainly wouldn’t.”

Mia gulped, closing her eyes for a moment to quell the emotion rising within her—the flush of watering to her eyes and the growing lump in her throat. She wasn’t sure what it was precisely that got to her—the content or disappointment—in her father’s words. Either way, she suddenly felt every shade of remorse. One glance at Rosalie and Mia could tell her sister was feeling the same. 

Rosalie reached across the small space between them and squeezed Mia’s hand. Carlisle watched as Mia raised her face to meet her sister’s eye, squeezing back. 

“We’re sorry, Carlisle,” Rosalie said, her words accompanied by the nod of Mia’s head. 

Carlisle turned to leave them, content in knowing that the great chasm between the girls would soon be closed. 

Twilight (Mia Cullen) Masterlist

But August is still humming and dancing along to his music, swaying his hips and sprinkling chocolate chips into his batter.

He looks so happy, you almost feel guilty, but if everything goes to plan, you'll get back before either of them notices you're gone.

With another deep breath, you open the front door. It makes the slightest creaking sound, but August doesn't notice. Once you're outside, you close the door and head to your destination. You have a few dollars from chores that Cullen had given you. Surely neither would mind too much.

How else were you supposed to spend cash, after all?

Maybe you'll get each of them something nice, just in case they do find out. Maybe that'll soften the blow if they find out.

As you continue walking down the sidewalk, you sigh in relief upon noticing how barren the streets are tonight.

It's a blessing. No chance encounters. No accidental bump-ins.

It's freeing.

When you finally reach the nearest convenience store, you browse the aisles aimlessly. There aren't many people around, and certainly no one you recognize.

As you go, you look at every little item and its price. Your options seem limitless compared to the very limited options of... well, anything, in your past.

Cigarettes, soda, chips, candy...

You then find some cute keychains, and one is of a deer, August's favorite animal.

You remember watching Bambi a few days ago with your dads, curled between them on the couch with hot cocoa. And then August crying, and Cullen reminding him he's seen the movie several times before.

You chuckle a bit at the memory.

Perhaps this is the best choice.

But there aren't any cool-looking keychains for Cullen. You bite your lip and look some more.

Then, to your luck, there is a section of energy drinks. Cullen likes them, even though August complains about the caffeine intake.

You attempt to do math in your head, coming to the conclusion you'd have barely any money left over to buy yourself something. You scan over everything, before settling on a cheap snack you like, even though both of your dads would buy it for you if you asked.

Still, it feels nice to buy something for yourself.

...

"Welcome home," August chirps, leaning down slightly to kiss his husband. "How was your day, dear?"

"Boring," Cullen sighs. He takes off his coat and hangs it on the rack. "Where's (Y/n)?"

"Sleeping. They're still adjusting to everything, so they're all tuckered out," August replies. He lets out a sigh that shows his nerves are shot, and Cullen wastes no time in rubbing his upper arms to soothe him. "I'm trying so hard not to be overbearing, but it's so hard. This is probably the longest I've left them alone... I should check on them, they've been quiet."

Cullen chuckles a little, and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. "If they haven't made any noise, they're likely still napping," he reasons. But after seeing his husband chew on his lower lip, he offers a smile. "I'll pop in to make sure they're still okay. Why don't you take a break?"

"You're the one who just got home from work," August chuckles.

"And I didn't do a single thing all day except stare at paperwork." With that, Cullen makes his way down the hall to you room. "Baby?" he calls in a sing-song tone. He quietens down when he doesn't get a response.

Poor thing, must still be sleeping.

He gently knocks on the door, still receiving no response. After a few seconds, he creaks open the door and slips into your room. "Sorry for waking you, angel," he apologizes sweetly. "Your papa sent me to—" he stops talking when he sees you aren't in your bed at all. His brows furrow and his heart rate speeds up. "Are you hiding?"

When he receives no answer, his paranoia sets in, making his brain wonder if your abductors broke into their house again, stealing you away without them having any idea.

"(Y/n), this isn't funny," he rasps, throwing some of your things around, as if by some miracle, you're hiding under something.

After a minute of calling and frantically searching, he scrambles downstairs, calling your name and checking every single room.

Cullen sees his husband staring at him with wide, alarmed eyes. "I can't find them," he whispers. "They weren't in their room."

"What?!" August shrieks.

"Stay there in case they come back!" he yells, grabbing his keys before rushing back outside.

...

As you finish paying for your stuff, you head out of the store.

In the time you were inside, it had gotten significantly darker outside. Even though you were gone less than an hour, you couldn't help but fear how angry your fathers might be with you. You begin racing down the sidewalk, praying that neither August nor Cullen realize you're gone.

The faster you run, the worse your guilt becomes.

You stop running in hopes of calming yourself down before heading home. It won't help anyone if you show up in such a panicked state.

Still, you don't think you can stay still much longer, so you force yourself to keep going.

Suddenly, a loud, rumbling sound comes from behind you, scaring you so badly you jump up and spin around.

It's a car, rapidly speeding in your direction, catching you in its headlights. You freeze, too scared to even breathe. Then it slams on its brakes and comes to an abrupt halt. Just a couple inches away.

You know that car anywhere. It's your parents'.

The driver's door opens quickly, slamming into the car parked in front of it.

A man steps out of it.

It's Cullen. He rushes towards you.

"...hi, Da—"

Without giving you the opportunity to speak, Cullen grabs your wrist in a death grip and begins pulling you towards the car. He throws open the passenger door and forces you into the seat.

Before you can react, he reaches over you and buckles you in, clicking the belt in place. He practically slams your own door shut when he finishes securing you.

He then races back to the driver's side, slides into his own seat, and closes his door with enough force to shake the vehicle. He grips the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white.

"I..."

"Don't speak to me right now," he growls, voice shaking in barely contained fury.

As soon as his engine is revved up, he peels out, taking you back home.

The entire drive back is suffocating with silence. Cullen never removes one of his hands from the wheel, as if he needs something to hold onto, and stares straight ahead, eyes laser-focused on the road in front of him.

Once you reach your house, he doesn't even bother to park the car properly.

He parks diagonally and carelessly, barely missing hitting one of your neighbors. Like before, he rushes around the front of the car, opening your door for you and all but yanks you out of your seat. He makes quick work of getting you out of the car and dragging you into the house.

When the two of you step foot inside, August is pacing anxiously and chewing his thumb. He then looks up, freezing once he realizes you've arrived home safely.

"Oh, my sweet baby!" he sobs, rushing over to embrace you.

Despite yourself, you return the hug with trembling limbs.

"(Y/n) was just down the street," Cullen tells him bitterly. His eyes glare at you as he speaks. "All alone. In the dark."

August gasps and looks down at you.

His anger doesn't last long, though, because the next thing you know, he's bursting into tears again, clinging to you even harder than before. "Sweetheart," he sobs into your hair.

You glance up at Cullen, who still looks angry, but its less focused on you specifically this time. Still, his arms are folded over his chest.

"For all we know, you were kidnapped again!" he finally says, only once August's sobs turn into sniffles. "Didn't we tell you to not go out without one of us with you?!" You open your mouth to protest, but Cullen cuts you off. "We aren't letting you go anywhere unsupervised anymore. Not after this. Clearly you can't be trusted. It's my fault for giving you that privilege in the first place."

"I'm sorry," you murmur. Tears fall down your own eyes. "I just... needed some space."

"By sneaking out?!" Cullen exclaims. His demeanor changes when you flinch. Sighing, he pulls both you and August into a big bear hug, squeezing both of you. "I don't do this to be mean, or to hurt you, kiddo." His voice breaks at the last word, and his hold tightens. "We just want to protect you."

In an attempt to cheer them up, you reach into your bag and hand them their gifts. "I got you these," you mutter. "I know it doesn't take away what I did, but... I wanted to get these for you."

"Oh, honey," August sniffles, clutching his new keychain. "It's adorable!" He gets even more emotional, if that were even possible, and yanks you back into his arms. "You're too sweet."

"Where is our child?!" August cries. "(Y/n) Zimmerman!"

The nurse at the desk looks between the two, then over to the police officers who guided them through the door. Upon seeing the men nodding in confirmation, she opens something up on her computer. "Room 618," she says. "Elevators are right around the corner."

"Thank you," Cullen quickly responds. He then tugs his husband along before he bursts into tears again.

The elevator ride is painfully long, or at least that's how it felt to August and Cullen.

When the doors open, they race out of them, looking for the sign indicating where your room is. The numbers pass by quicker than they do until they stop right outside Room 618. They're breathing heavy and quick, full of nerves and excitement.

They open the door, too happy to even consider knocking.

Cullen gasps quietly upon seeing you awake, sitting on the bed with blankets over your legs and a tray of food next to you. You look up and watch the two men approach you.

August can barely contain himself, crying loudly as he walks forward. "My sweet baby!" he wails, moving to cup your face, kissing you on the forehead over and over again. It overwhelms you, but he's too emotional to notice. "I missed you so much, never leave us again...!" he cries into your hair.

"Honey," Cullen chuckles lightly, pulling his sobbing husband back by the shoulders. "Give them space." His smile turns towards you, his eyes watering with held back tears. "Do you remember us, baby? We're your dads." His voice breaks on the last few words.

You take a moment to assess your fathers.

The one who was just sobbing all over you a moment ago, has long auburn hair tied up in a loose bun with a couple strands falling from it. He has blue eyes and is slightly taller than the man who had pulled him away.

Speaking of, the other man has mid-length black hair and brown eyes, with a tiny bit of facial hair if you squint. While both seem happy to see you, he seems a bit more composed and calm, even with the tears staining his cheeks.

Hesitantly, you shake your head no, watching as August breaks down further as Cullen rubs his arm to soothe him.

"But—!"

"(Y/n)'s been through enough today," Cullen reminds his partner gently. "We should give them some space."

"But I want my baby!" August continues to sob. "After all these years!"

"I know, hon, me too." Cullen kisses August on the cheek. He then looks at you. "Your papa and I missed you so much. It's going to take a lot of time getting used to everything. But don't worry," Cullen says. "We will be by your side the entire time."

August sits on the edge of the bed and grabs hold of your hand, kissing it several times. "I've missed you so much," he repeats. He holds onto your hand as though he believes you'll be taken away again if he lets go.

Cullen wipes his own tears. "I'm gonna talk to the police and doctors." He gives you an encouraging smile. "Don't worry about anything. Papa and Dad have everything covered."

August nods, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. As soon as Cullen leaves, he says, "Let me help you eat, alright?" Without waiting for you to respond, he reaches for your spoon. When he sees your eyebrows furrow, he smiles sadly at you. "Please, darling? Let me baby you a little after being away from you for so long."

Something in you just couldn't bring yourself to refuse his plea.

...

Several days pass.

August refuses to let go of you for long periods of time, holding your hand as you both walk through the hospital halls, feeding you when you get sleepy during your meals, and constantly keeping you within his grasp.

Cullen isn't much better. He's more subtle, but still tends to crowd around you. He just tries to be more subtle about it compared to his husband.

When you're finally discharged from the hospital, both parents keep you between them as they lead you to their car. Your arms are hooked in theirs as August gushes over you.

"When we get home, I can cook you any food you want!" he grins. "And—and we ordered you a new bed, since your old one is too small. I think all your new furniture should arrive in a day or two." His voice trembles, giving away how hard he's trying to keep himself together. "But while we wait, you'll sleep between Papa and I! We don't want to let you out of our sights yet."

"Or ever," Cullen mutters.

It causes you to shiver, but you brush it off. After so many years of being captive, why wouldn't your parents be clingy?

Even though they're already starting to feel like captors themselves...

As soon as you step foot inside of the home, August and Cullen lead you around, pointing out where everything is as you go.

"And this," August sings as he opens the door to your bedroom, "is your room!"

Despite never seeing it before, it looks familiar to you. Perhaps from pictures shown to you during your hospital stay.

The walls are painted soft lavender with a white accent wall. The plush rug by the small bed matches the wall color, and has frilled edges. The curtains covering the window next to your bed are white with faint purple polka dots on them.

Everything about this room looked beautiful, but childish. Which makes sense. You were a child since the last time you used this room.

"We kept everything the same," Cullen explains. "Your favorite stuffed animals are still sitting on your dresser, and—here—" he pulls you towards your bookshelf, "—all of your favorite books!" he exclaims. He pulls out a worn copy of he Rainbow Fish and offers it to you.

You can tell it's well loved from just looking at its spine and pages.

"This one was your absolute favorite," August informs you as you carefully take it in your hands. "Whenever we finished reading it to you at bedtime, you would always cry, begging us to read just one more time."

"Not just for that book," Cullen interjects. "For any of the ones in this row," he adds, tapping on a section of books.

"I can't wait to read to you again," August sniffles. He's cried so many times, you're wondering how he can possibly have more tears left to shed.

"Now now, dear," Cullen says softly, pulling him close to kiss his temple. "No more tears. We have our baby back now." He then turns his attention back to you. "Isn't that right, kiddo?" he grins.

You wordlessly nod and hand the book back to him.

"How about some cartoons while Papa and I fix dinner? A movie?"

"I'd rather sleep," you inform them. Both parents visibly deflate at your words, and you feel a little bad. "...or maybe a quiet dinner would be nice."

August's mood brightens a little upon hearing you say such a thing. "Yes, yes," he chants in agreement, nodding. "Dinner with my beautiful family... Nothing could be better right now." He gives Cullen a tender smile.

"That sounds wonderful," Cullen agrees. "Oh, and I'll give you some of my clothes until your new ones arrive, okay?"

Before you can ask what he means, he goes to his and August's bedroom and returns with some pajama pants and a t-shirt for you.

"Thanks..." You look between them and they get the message.

"We'll be downstairs while you change," Cullen answers. "Do you need any help?"

"No, I've got it," you insist, prompting both parents to leave your room.

They shut the door behind them, but you don't hear their footsteps descend the stairs. Did they simply want to give you the illusion of privacy?

Still, you're free to change, you suppose.

After dressing in Cullen's clothing, you open your bedroom door. On the other side stands your parents.

"All ready?" Cullen asks.

August is beaming once more at the sight of you. "Oh, darling, you're absolutely adorable!" he cries. He hugs you tightly, squishing you against him and rocking you both gently. You blush, unsure what to make of his praise. Forcing an awkward smile, you try hugging him back. Immediately, he kisses the top of your head. "My sweet baby, oh, Papa loves you so much!"

Cullen ruffles your hair. "We both love you very much."

The rest of dinner is awkward for you. Even though they let you feed yourself this time, you can see them staring, like they're prepared to witness you choke just so they can come to your aid.

Once the meal is done and over with, they set you up on the couch with plenty of blankets and pillows. It feels so soft against your skin that you're already fighting sleepiness. As you adjust in your spot on the couch, the TV begins to play old cartoons—all nostalgic.

There's no doubt your dads chose those programs on purpose.

Eventually, August and Cullen join you. One sits on either side of you.

Before the first episode of the show ends, you feel August's fingers start to massage your scalp, trying to lull you into slumber.

You subconsciously shift your position, so your head is against Cullen's shoulder.

His body stiffens, and when you turn your head to look up at him, you see unshed tears in his eyes. He wraps an arm around you to pull you closer before you can even question it.

"G'night," you mumble, already half-asleep.