you're beautiful when you sleep
1. you're beautiful when you sleep
Rating 5/5 Word Count 1083 Review this Chapter
His phone was ringing. At three AM?
"Dr. Cullen?" a panicked voice asked. Carlisle thought it sounded vaguely familiar.
"To whom am I speaking?" responded Carlisle in his most calming voice -- the voice used to soothe patients.
"Um, this is Embry -- can you come down here, please? Like, quickly? Sam's leg is broken, Jake's trying to figure out what happened -- I think there was a vampire involved -- "
"Okay, Embry. Don't worry about anything. I'll be there soon."
During the drive to the reservation, Carlisle's mind was whirring. The break was clearly serious enough that the werewolf's natural healing skills couldn't help him. And the significance of the injury was not lost on Carlisle. Why was a vampire stalking La Push territory?
Before he was fully aware, his black Mercedes had crossed the boundary line. He didn't know if it was just his imagination, but he could almost feel the point of entrance into unfamiliar, forbidden territory. Carlisle shook his head. There was business to attend to.
As he parked his car in front of the Uley house, Embry ran out of the front door. The boy seemed extremely relieved to see Carlisle, motioning for him to come to the back of the house.
Quil and Seth were standing around Sam and Jacob. Those two were wolf-shaped still -- Sam's huge black body was huddled on the grass, eyes closed tightly with pain. Jacob was lying nearby, his russet form almost as large as Sam. As Carlisle slowly approached, Jacob raised his giant head and growled low in his throat. Carlisle paused and cleared his throat.
"Jacob, I'm only here to help Sam. Please trust that I do not intend to hurt any of you."
Jacob's gaze didn't waver. Sam's dark eyes opened and glanced into Jacob's. The growling instantly cut off, and Jacob lowered his head in submission. Carlisle resumed his unhurried pace, angling himself toward Sam's obviously broken back leg. The break worried him, but with a cursory glance he could see it would be easier if Sam changed form.
"Sam, could you please phase back?"
A sort of grimace passed across the wolf's face, but the mass of muscle and fur compressed slowly until it was just Sam lying there, naked and in pain.
Carlisle directed the boys to pick up their leader and carry him into the house, but as soon as Quil and Embry lifted under Sam's chest, Carlisle heard his breathing stop -- Sam had passed out. The boys looked worried, and they hurried to get into the house as fast as possible while Jacob phased back behind them.
x x x
Sam was sleeping. The werewolves were on patrol around their borders, trying to see if there were any other vampires around, and Carlisle had no idea when they would be back. He knew he should be worried about the implications, wondering if there was anything he could do. But right now, he was simply staring at Sam's flushed form, lying atop the useless bedcovers. The leader of the pack -- the "alpha male" -- seemed unexpectedly vulnerable. It was almost as if every defense was stripped away in sleep, and he was reduced to an innocent again. Carlisle thought this was probably how he'd looked before he became a werewolf.
That made him sad, for some reason. Sam hadn't chosen this; none of them had. For ones so young, though, they certainly dealt with things very well. Especially this one. He'd heard the story from Edward: how Sam had been the first of the La Push teenagers to change, having to manage alone. What a complicated life he led, Carlisle mused. And he's barely seen two decades...
Slowly, the vampire extended one pale hand to brush Sam's cheek. It was so warm, warmer than a humans -- though he'd known this already -- but it was like there was a fire beneath his skin, burning through to the surface and smoldering against Carlisle's palm. Sam's eyes didn't open, and his breathing didn't change at all.
This is amazing, Carlisle thought. The temperature of Sam's skin was so welcome after so many centuries of ice. He wanted to press his body flush with the other's, warming himself as he'd never been warmed before. He wanted to feel Sam's blood rush beneath the skin, heartbeat rapidly increasing...
Sam's eyes opened.
They stared at one another for a moment. Carlisle's hand was still against his cheek. Their gazes didn't waver -- brown meeting with liquid gold -- and for a moment they lost themselves in each other's eyes. The outside world didn't matter, wild vampires didn't matter. Even the werewolves' safety didn't matter at that point. They were thinking thoughts about each other, and that was all.
Carlisle stretched forward. It was a slow, subtle movement, one that was hardly noticeable to an outsider. But he didn't stop moving until their foreheads were touching. He was careful not to disturb Sam's broken leg -- it was healing even as he though about it. His cold, marble skin against Sam's burning heat was almost enough sensation to satisfy him.
Carlisle lowered himself even further so that his lips were touching Sam's. They didn't move any more than that, didn't speak. They didn't have to. And then Sam moved for the first time, tilting his head backward and pressing hard against Carlisle's lips. He was shocked, actually, but soon recovered -- kissing back with just as much fervor. He was surprised to note that the smell of werewolves his family had been complaining about didn't affect him at all -- maybe it had something to do with his insensitivity to human blood, maybe it was just the fact that they were so close, so close together, that it just didn't matter.
From outside the house, Carlisle heard the sound of labored breathing and padded feet. The rest of the pack was nearby, he knew, and it wouldn't exactly be smart to be caught in their current position.
The doctor sighed and pulled back, sitting again in the chair next to Sam's bed.
"Control your thoughts," he murmured.
Sam closed his eyes and nodded.