#twlight

The tears had started sometime between when Paul left the room and when she finally managed to zip herself out of the dress. (Y/N) avoided the mirror at all costs, knowing her face was streaked black from the mascara and still stained from the dirt when she hit the ground. The girl didn't want to face the aftermath of what was supposed to be a memorable night, much less the marks that made her skin ache.

The day had started perfectly—normal, in fact. She had shared a special moment with her sister, her hair and makeup had been done beautifully, and for the first time, she had been able to wear a gorgeous designer gown. Everything had been going smoothly after that as well. Paul got to spend time with the friends he had neglected, and they welcomed (Y/N) as if she had always been part of the group. The night had gotten her to believe they were capable of having a sense of normalcy even when thrust into the whirlwind world of vengeful vampires and angry werewolves.

Yet, all it took was a few words from Victoria to crack the unsteady foundation Paul and (Y/N) had built for themselves. The base wobbled and settled askew, setting them on separate sides. They were still reaching for each other, but distance had started to grow in the way.

With a wet washcloth, (Y/N) wiped her face as best as she could. She could hear a car engine nearing the house, and there was no way she would miss a single second of the conversation. The red gown was replaced by a pair of sweatpants and a sweater, and her curled hair was wrapped in a messy ponytail. Some strands were pulling at her skull, and she had tied it slightly to the side, but all she cared to know was what they were planning to do to protect her and Bella from Victoria's wrath.

The vampires were already inside the house when she got downstairs, and she could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Paul stood on one side of the room, his face frozen in a deep, angry scowl. On the other, the Cullen family stood as still as marble. Then there was Bella, sitting on the couch, wishing she could be anywhere but there.

When (Y/N) finally made her way to the first floor, a “thank god” left her sister's lips as she joined her side. “So,” she started. “Can we finally talk about what happened here tonight?”

“Alice,” Edward called. His stare was threatening, his tone demanding. “Anything to say?”

“I have no idea,” she answered defensively. “I didn't see anything.”

“How can that be possible?” he seethed.

“Edward,” Bella hissed under her breath. The boy was angry, frustrated over the fact that the girl he loved was once more in the front lines of danger. But she could not stand being misdirected to the wrong person.

In that moment, he didn't really care. “He was in here, Alice,” he argued. “He could have still been here when they got home.”

“You already have me watching the Volturis’ decisions, watching Victora's return, watching Bella's every step. You want to add another?” Alice offered, resentment lacing with her words. “You want me to watch Charlie, or this house? Might as well watch out for the whole street while I'm at it. If I do too much, things start to slip through the cracks, Edward.”

“Looks like they already have.”

“They would have been fine, leech,” Paul scoffed. “I was here with them.”

“And look how well that's worked out for (Y/N).”

Before he could do anything, (Y/N) got between Paul and Edward, stumbling as he collided with her. The mocking scoff that left the vampire did not go unnoticed. And as right as he technically was, everyone knew it was the least opportune moment to say it. “How about we keep all the insults and jabs for another time?” she offered. “I, for one, would love to keep the house standing for when dad comes back.”

“(Y/N)'s right,” Bella added. “We won't get anywhere by fighting amongst each other.”

“Of course,” Edward sighed. “We have to think about this logically. Here's what we know. Someone came into the house while Charlie was home. He was left unharmed, and all they did was take personal belongings from both Bella and (Y/N).”

Everyone seemed to calm down then, taking a seat wherever they found space. Names were being thrown around—Aro, Caius, Victoria—but (Y/N) couldn't quite catch all that was said. Her head hadn't stopped spinning since she had left her bedroom. The situation was overwhelming, and her fight—if one could call it that—with Paul had left her feeling rather vulnerable. The Cullens spoke of vampires with personal vendettas, dragged anger, murderous revenge. The girl felt she'd been thrown into the middle of a bad fantasy movie.

If she had stayed in Florida, she thought, the hardest thing she would have been going through would have been which college she would go to. There would be no wolves or vampires, no imprint bond or natural-born enemies. If she had stayed, maybe her sister wouldn't be staring at a life-long death. Maybe if she had chosen to stay behind, Bella would have brought herself out of her depression. Maybe if Renée had been able to take back her older daughter, they could have found a way out for her back in the sunny state. Instead, they were facing death every day their eyes opened again, being hunted by creatures far beyond comprehension.

(Y/N) looked around the room, and suddenly everything felt strange. A year before, none of those people meant anything to her. The Cullens were just her sister's in-laws, Edward was her weird boyfriend, and Paul was a forgotten memory of her childhood. Now, they were discussing what mysterious vampire had been written into the story. A curious traveler passing through? An angry Volturi checking on Bella's immortality? Another vampire thirsty for some Swan blood?

The kitchen door slamming snapped the girl out of her thoughts. Emmett and Jasper walked in, an exasperated look on the former and a grimace on the latter. “Well, he's long gone,” the dark-haired boy said, disappointed. He took his place next to Rosalie, draping his arm around her shoulders like it had always belonged there. “Trail went East, then South, and disappeared on a side road. Seems like he had a car waiting.”

“Tough luck,” Edward muttered. “Would've been good for the dogs to make themselves useful.”

“Edward,” Bella reprimanded. “We agreed on no insults.”

“It's not really an insult. I'm just saying it would have been good if the wolves could have tracked the vampire into their territory,” the older boy shrugged. “It'd be nice if they made themselves useful.”

“Funny how we wouldn't have any of these problems if you and your family had never shown up,” Paul grumbled. His neck was slowly starting to turn red, his anger bubbling slowly and loudly under his skin. The boy was using every ounce of his energy to keep it at bay, fighting his explosive nature to keep himself under control. “If only you had steered clear of Forks as well as you did from Bella all these months.”

The laugh that left Edward's throat was mocking, laced with a secret only he seemed to know. He took his time to let the chuckle die, allowing Paul's ire to fester for a little while longer. “As much as you hate us and the fact that we live here,” he grinned, “you wouldn't have reunited with (Y/N). Matter of fact, all of the things you're most proud of in your life would not have happened if we had not come here. I mean, you’re a wolf because of us. (Y/N) is here because of us. I think you should be a little more grateful that we’re here.”

“You're giving yourself far too much credit,” the wolf growled. “(Y/N) and I have been destined to each other for far longer than we've known any of you exist.”

“Are you sure about that?” Edward pushed, and he knew exactly how to keep pressing those buttons. “Do you really think (Y/N) would have chosen you had it not been for the imprint bond? Think of the life she could’ve had if she hadn’t gotten stuck with you.”

The shaking started instantly, and there was almost no time to get the boy outside. (Y/N) pulled him by his blazer, pushing him out through the kitchen door. The wolf ripped through his suit, sending pieces of black fabric flying onto the grass. He growled toward the house, his mouth trembling and slobbering with rage.

(Y/N) was trying her best to lead him toward the woods, keeping a safe distance while keeping him away from the street's view. But nothing she did worked. Her words fell on deaf ears, silenced by the sound of his snarls. The girl pleaded and cried for him to disappear into the woods, but his gaze never left the figures trickling onto the back porch.

“You just had to keep going?” Bella scoffed at Edward as she made her way through the Cullens. “Look at what you did. You just can't help yourself, can you?”

Edward remained quiet as he watched her move toward her sister. He knew teasing Paul would wreak havoc in the house, but something in him snapped whenever he was near one of them. Maybe it was their incessant and rampant thoughts that drove him crazy; maybe it was their scent that made him insane; maybe it was the fact that Bella kept defending them every chance she got.

“Paul, I know Edward fucked up, but you need to go,” Bella said, pulling (Y/N) behind her. “You won't be helping anyone if one of the neighbors sees you. So, please, just go.”

“Please, Paul,” (Y/N) cried. “Don't make tonight worse than it already is.”

Those words snapped something in him, stopping his growls immediately. His eyes snapped to hers, finally realizing what he was doing. A small whimper left the wolf as he tried to take a step toward the sisters. But seeing (Y/N) recoil into herself as he walked closer broke something in him. In the myriad of mistakes he had made, losing control had been the worst.

“Just go home,” Bella instructed once more. “We'll call you with whatever we decide, but you cannot stay here in this state.”

The boy was in the wrong; he knew that. Even if Edward had been taunting him, it was his responsibility to keep his wolf at bay. He'd spent months controlling his rage, finding ways of keeping his anger from (Y/N). But those months had been devoid of any Cullens, and any interaction with a vampire had warranted a shift. Control had been easier to master because the obstacles were gone.

He tried to get closer to (Y/N) once more, lowering his head in an effort to show his regret. But all it did was push her another step farther away. Her cheeks were stained with tears, her shoulders shaking with the strength of her sobs. She was overwhelmed, weighed by the array of events she'd already lived through that night. She wanted him to go, and he was sure of it.

“Paul,” Bella repeated, her tone stern and menacing. “Go. Home.”

“You can call later if you're that worried about her,” Edward called out. “But it's obvious you can't stay here in that state.”

“Thank you, Edward, but I've got this,” she interrupted. “Go home, Paul. You can call once you've calmed down and we can talk next steps, okay? Matter of fact, everyone should go to their respective homes. The night's been long enough.”

After a beat, the mind reader vampire spoke again. “We'll be around if the vampire decides to come back,” he said. “We've been keeping an eye out every night.”

When a menacing growl left Paul, (Y/N) finally stepped in between. She wiped away her tears and stared the wolf down. “Just go already, please,” the girl stated. “They will stay guarding the perimeter of the house like they've been doing for a while—you know that. We're safer with them being here, and you know that. But you're not safe while you're like that, so go home.”

“He says he'll come back as soon as he's calmed down.”

“Just come back for your truck, and that’s it,” the girl sniffled, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’ll tell you when you can come over later.”

“He says…”

“I don’t really care right now,” (Y/N) argued. Frustration was growing in her. There were too many people around, too many things shifting at the same time. It was too much to process. “Just go!”

Without another thought, the younger Swan backed into the house, the kitchen door slamming shut behind her. At that point, she didn’t care if anyone found them out. She was exhausted, stressed, angry, confused. Emotions flooded her all at once, forcing her under and keeping her from staying above water. Her perfect—normal—night had been ruined, and all she wanted was to sleep it away.

Edward’s words played in her head. Everything he’d said had been to anger Paul, dug from the deepest corners of the younger boy’s insecurities. He’d carefully picked the vocabulary, slowly piecing together the ticking bomb that he was. Yet, they had been sewn with a truthful thread. The rewriting of their story had been entirely started by the Cullens. From the moment they had come back to Forks, they had chafed the very fabric of their reality and staged a new narration.

The vampires’ presence had triggered the shifter gene in the reservation boys. Bella’s breakup with the Cullen boy had prompted (Y/N) to visit the town that had seen her be born. Before that, she had been more than happy staying in Florida with her mom, working as hard as she could on her studies to get into a good university. Before Forks, she’d had the next few years of her life planned out. Now, she wasn’t sure if she would even make it to her senior year.

“Oh, (Y/N).” Bella’s voice mixed with the sound of her sister’s cries. The bed sank where she sat, the hinges of the old bed creaking as she did. Gently, she moved the girl’s head onto her lap, running her fingers through her hair in an effort to calm the younger Swan’s sobs.

“When did everything go to shit?” (Y/N) whimpered. “It was all going so good.”

“Well, honey, you know things going good is not in our DNA,” she chuckled softly, trying her best to lighten the mood. “What really happened tonight, (Y/N)? I don't like seeing you like this.”

Truth clung to the walls of (Y/N)'s throat. She didn't want to worry Bella even more and push her to immortality even faster. After her trip to Italy, the days left of Bella's humanity were numbered, and she wanted to do nothing to shorten that timeline. But secrets had been the detriment of many of their relationships, and she didn't want to add another to the list.

But at the end of the day, she cared more about having her sister by her side than a threat that may never come to fruition. “Everything just got away from us,” she sighed. “One minute we were having fun and feeling like we were just normal kids, and the next, Jacob was running in saying Victoria was there. Then, after she was gone, Paul got very short with Jake for trying to help and the whole vampire thing here... it's just too much!”

“What do you mean Jake tried to help?”

“Victoria dropped me on the ground, and he tried to help me up. Paul didn't like that,” (Y/N) shrugged. Her cries had begun to settle; the soft caresses from Bella's hand were slowly lulling her to sleep. “I know what he's done and that Paul's angry at him, but he just took it too far.”

“Like Edward did tonight,” Bella said, her eyebrows raised in amusement. “How did we manage to find the most intense men in existence?”

“Being Swans?” The sisters laughed for a moment, still finding a sliver of happiness in the middle of the chaos. But it didn't last long, not when too much weighed on them. “Do you think he was right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think the only reason Paul and I are together is because of the imprint bond?”

Bella felt a chill spread through her spine, forcing every move she was making to freeze. “Do you think that?” the older girl asked. “You were just saying last weekend that you were close to telling him you loved him, (Y/N).”

“I do love him, and I told him that today, but...” (Y/N) breathed deeply, mustering every ounce of courage that she could to say what she was going to. “I can listen to him reassure me until we die, but I will never know what he's really thinking. I have to just trust that what he's telling me is the truth. But Edward has an insight I will never have. He can read Paul's thoughts, and it's clear that everything he used to push him over the edge is just things that are running through his mind.”

“So, you think he still believes the only reason you two are together is because of the imprint link?”

“He has, too, right? I mean, just this morning I really thought there was absolutely nothing or no one that could drive a wedge between us,” (Y/N) exclaimed, straightening herself out as she spoke. “Then Victora shows up, and everything got in the way, and now I don't even know where we stand.”

Frustration built inside (Y/N) once more, and she couldn't stop herself from muttering more. “What would you do if I were turned into a vampire?” the girl blurted. “Like, how do you think you would react if that were to happen?”

“Whoa, where is this coming from, (Y/N)?” Bella questioned. “Is this something you've been thinking about?”

“It just sort of came up,” she muttered. “But that's not the point. How would you feel about it? Actually, how do you think Edward would have reacted if you had told him you wanted to stay human?”

“That's an entirely different conversation about an entirely different person,” Bella argued. “Edward always wanted me to stay human. I was the one who kept pushing him to turn me into a vampire. But I wouldn't want you to be one, as hypocritical as it may be.” The older girl studied her sister's face, finding the words (Y/N) wanted to keep hidden. The more time passed, the easier it became to read the unsaid, learn the subtitles of the younger girl's silence. “Is that what you were fighting about with Paul? About what would happen if you were turned?”

(Y/N) sighed, wanting nothing more than to hide from the conversation she had started. “It's part of it, yeah,” she said. “It just made me question how much love can actually withstand. Like maybe there are limits. And if that's true, how can I believe that what Paul and I have is meant to be for life?”

“This isn't something you should be questioning right now, (Y/N),” the older Swan cooed, wrapping her arms around her sister. “You should be head over heels in love right now, not wondering if forever is a possibility for your relationship.”

“And you shouldn't have to turn into a vampire. And we shouldn't be hunted by them. And my boyfriend shouldn't be a werewolf, and yours shouldn't be a vampire, but here we are.” (Y/N) let out a sigh of frustration, slumping her weight onto Bella. “We are literal walking fantasy stories. Remind me to be born as a house cat in my next life. Their lives seem a lot simpler.”

“I can’t really talk about a next life, but I’m hoping that after we've dealt with Victoria, things start to fall into place.”  

A/N: *cough* *cough* it's a bit dusty here after months of inactiveness. i honestly wish I had a better explanation other than life and my health have gotten in the way, and the brain fog has been fogging. almost 80% of this was written under the effects of cold medicine so I'm not sue just how coherent it might be, but i hope you guys like it 😅 and again, so sorry for being gone for so long. my head could only take so much at a time If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story:  click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

“Good morning,” he said, and it occurred to you that you hadn’t thought to check the time, yet. Your life existed in three states: alone, asleep, and with Carlisle. Only that last one really mattered – the other two could easily be lumped into the same category helpfully labeled ‘waiting for Carlisle’s next visit’. “Have you been keeping yourself busy?”

“I’ve only been awake for a couple hours,” you explained, shrugging as he took his usual seat in the chair left next to your bed. He was always polite enough to ask about the boring details of your day, and you were always embarrassed enough to skirt around just how little you had the energy for. Most of the time, it was all you could do to pull yourself out of bed and yourself to eat before retreating back into your little safe haven. On a good day, you’d be able to go for a walk, maybe respond to a few of the calls you were constantly missing, but most days weren’t very good. “Reading, mostly. Thanks again for the recommendation.”

The book he’d lent you – a dry historical drama with characters as bland as water and a plot as boring as sin – sat open on your lap, but you’d only gotten through half a chapter before giving up. It was hard to believe Carlisle was only a few years older than you, sometimes. You couldn’t imagine how someone who seemed so young could have such awful taste.

Still, he looked pleased, his pleasantly aloof expression taking on a defined note of satisfaction. “It’s important to keep your mind occupied while your body’s recovering. You wouldn’t want to waste all of my hard work by letting yourself die of boredom, now, would you?”

“No, doctor.” It was stupid to try, but he’d set himself up for it. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself, your heart beating just a little faster as you grasped blindly for the impossible. “You know, there’s this friend of mine who keeps asking when she’ll be able to visit, and I thought it might help pass the time if—”  

“You’ll have to find a way to let her down.” Carlisle’s voice was smooth, calm. You did your best not to sulk, but still, he let out a labored sigh, only a touch too professional to roll his eyes. “It’s for the best. It’s good that you stay active, but you know what’ll happen if you overexert yourself, don’t you?”

Vaguely. It was hard to remember the details of your condition, and you weren’t in the mood for another lecture. “I do, doctor.”

“And you’re going to behave your check-up, aren’t you?”

“I am, doctor.”

“And that’s why you’re my favorite patient.” Your compliance was rewarded with a beaming smile, an appeased nod as he pulled his old-fashioned leather doctor’s bag into his lap. “We better make good on that promise before you change your mind, then.”

You didn’t protest. Honestly, you didn’t say much of anything. You never talked during your exam, preferring to let Carlisle go through the necessary motions with as little interference as possible. Instead, he filled the silence with mindless chatter about his children and how they were doing at the local public school, the hospital’s ongoings since you were unofficially discharged, and your favorite – Forks’ particularly colorful smalltown gossip, from the sheriff’s wayward daughter moving back into town to the spike in bear sightings on the local hiking paths. “It’ll be a busy week,” he mentioned, as he finished taking your blood pressure. “You might have some unexpected company, after all.”

At that, you perked up. You met nearly all of Carlisle’s assistants (medical students, you guessed, judging by their ages) by now, and even if you didn’t care for all of them, it was still nice to see someone other than him. Your least favorites were the dark haired twins – the wiry boy who always seemed to be biting back a smirk and the pixie-like girl who always acted like she knew something you didn’t – and you were particularly fond of the blonde girl… Rosemary, or maybe Rosaline. She was nice, compassionate, kind enough to keep you company even when Carlisle wasn’t in the room. More importantly, she brought interesting books – romance and horror, novels like Dracula and Carmilla and Interview with a Vampire, always handing over with a sweet smile and a hushed reminder not to let Carlisle know she was breaking his rules. Looking back on it, you probably shouldn’t have accepted anything she tried to give you. You would’ve hated for her to get in trouble just because she was trying to be nice.

Rather than voicing your overwhelming bias, you watched intently as he slipped the loose cuff off of your arm, tucking it back into his bag and removing something else, something long and silver and sharp. Immediately, your gaze shot back to your lap, your throat going dry in an instant. The next time you managed to spit something out, it was nearly too quiet to be audible. “…is there any chance we could, uh, I don’t know,” You paused, shrunk into yourself. “…skip the phlebotomy, this time?”

Carlisle’s answer was as swift as it was ruthless. An airy laugh, a jagged twist to this smile as he took up the needle properly and turned it over in his hand, looking for defects. It was already attached the glass syringe and, even worse, an empty vial; just a touch bigger than you remembered it being, the day before. “And take that kind of risk? How little do you think of me, (Y/n)?”

“It’s not you, it’s just—I already feel a little faint, and you take one every day, and—” You cut yourself off, inhaling sharply. “I just don’t know if it’s really necessary. Considering how careful you are and everything.”

“You’re right, I am careful. Which is exactly why I have to do this each and every time I come to see you.” He sighed, shook his head – suddenly more of a patronizing, paternal figure than any kind of medical professional, let alone peer. “You understand, don’t you? Without regular testing, your condition may worsen, and if you get any sicker than you are now…” You stiffened as he trailed off, bracing yourself. You knew what came next, what always came next.

“You’ll have to go back to the hospital, angel.”

It was strange, how a voice as smooth and as beautiful as his could be so difficult to listen to.

You didn’t like Carlisle. You hated his condescending smile, his repetitive rambling, his terrible taste in books and his creepy little students. You hated how little he let you do, how he talked about your illness – always skirting around the details, never giving you enough information to know whether you were on the verge of dying or a few days away from making a full recovery. No, when you were honest with yourself, you didn’t like him. Hated him, even.

But you couldn’t go back to the hospital, with its blank white walls and sobbing patients and strange, mind-altering drugs that put your sleep and made you feel like someone was biting into your throat. It’d been a miracle when Carlisle first told you about his domestic services, when he offered to have you discharged in exchange for only the promise that you wouldn’t seek care that didn’t come from him. Arrangements were made, your rent and bills taken over by some nameless, faceless local charity, and for the first time in months, you got to go home. You could live with Carlisle and his once weekly, now daily check-ups. You could live with the fact that you didn’t remember the last time you’d gotten to make a decision for yourself.

And, if you had to, you could live with paying for your freedom in blood, too. As long as it meant you didn’t have to go back to that terrible place.

Once again, you didn’t say anything, but you didn’t resist as he sighed and ran a sterilizing pad over your forearm, the antibiotic strong enough to burn. You clenched your eyes shut, but that did nothing to block out the feeling of a thin elastic band being wrapped around the crook of your elbow, of his needle pushing through your skin and burrowing into the vein underneath it. There was a second of pressure, of knotted soreness, and then, the syringe was gone and you were left feeling just a little colder, just a little more empty than you had before.

Even after opening your eyes, you kept them trained on your lap. You easily could’ve spent the rest of his visit in silence, but metal clinked against glass as he rushed to cap his vial and suddenly, you needed to hear the sound of your own voice. “I think I might be getting paranoid,” you managed, with a breath of a laugh. “For a few minutes this morning, I was able to convince myself that you were… I don’t know, an alien studying humanity, or something.”

“If I was, I’m sure that I would still pick you as the best possible specimen for my examination.” It was hollow comfort, but you smiled anyway, nodding along. Your medication came next, in the form of a small, chalky white pill that you still struggled to swallow under Carlisle’s vigilant gaze. You managed to choke it down, though, and as always, the effects were instant; a sudden clearness, blankness, followed shortly by an exhaustion so thick and so heavy, you couldn’t remember what it’d ever felt like not to be tired. You tried to hold yourself up, but faltered – buckling under your own weight. Carlisle chuckled as he caught you, helping you lay down with a soft squeeze to your shoulder, a feather-light kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep, angel. It’s good for you.” And then, his grin still pressing into your scalp. “And try not to dream about vampires, this time.”

So he did know about Rosalie’s books. Pouting, you shrunk into yourself, letting him drag the comforter over your abruptly immobile body as your eyes eased shut, as he pulled away – a vial of your blood still warm in his hand. It would’ve been impossible to stop yourself from falling asleep, but you managed to stave off unconscious long enough to watch him remove the vial’s carefully applied seal, to unscrew the air-tight cap with the kind of tenderness you’d only seen him use while taking your temperature or petting his fingers through your hair after he thought you were already too far gone to remember. He did a lot of things when he thought you weren’t looking, didn’t he? You’d never really noticed that, before.