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The Sharpest Lives

Summary:
“So, there are real werewolves?” Bella asked. “With the full moon ad silver bullets and all that?” Jacob snorted. “Real. Does that make me imaginary?” “You know what I mean.” “Full moon, yes,” Edward said. “Silver bullets, no – that was just another one of those myths to make humans feel like they had a sporting chance. There aren’t very many of them left. Caius has had them hunted into near extinction.” (Breaking Dawn 745) You’re the one that I need, I’m the one that you loathe… ---JokesOnJane, you're AMAZING!!!1! Thanks for the banner!


Notes:
*All publicly recognizable characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. **All song lyrics in this story are from the album The Black Parade, by My Chemical Romance. The title of this story is also a title of a song from that album.


3. Dead on Arrival

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1281   Review this Chapter

Well,

it rains and it pours

when you’re out

on your own.

If I crash on your couch,

can I sleep in my

clothes?

…and you can take

all the pain

away

from me.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

There was a knock at the door and everyone held their breath. Carlisle, out of nervous habit, straightened his tie before opening the door. The wind and rain hit him full-blast, but he hardly seemed to notice. The small boy standing before him seemed to be dead on his feet. He was at most seven years old, and that was being generous. He seemed beyond exhausted, nearing collapse. Slowly, the boy lifted his head and looked at Carlisle with eyes whiter than milk. He was a very new werewolf, which was confirmed by his smell. The scent of his blood seemed to be the same as diluted human blood, hardly registering even with their acute senses. Not even Jasper felt the need to restrain himself.

Vampires… The boy thought in wonder. Never seen one of those before.

“There’s always a first time for everything.” Edward was standing behind Carlisle and, as Carlisle moved to the side to let the boy in, lead the boy to the living room. Carlisle took a seat next to Esme and clasped her hand tightly in his, watching with curiosity.

The boy looked up at Edward, marveling. You can read my mind?

Edward nodded. “Are you surprised?”

Very. The boy answered. He then looked around at the other seven pairs of vampire eyes and three pairs of shape-shifter eyes examining him. When he was satisfied that none of them meant him any immediate harm, he turned to Edward again. Does anyone else do that?

“No,” Edward replied. “But Bella, Renesmee, Jasper, and Alice have their own gifts.” He pointed to each individual as he said their name.

The boy looked at them, then back at Edward. What kind of gifts?

“You’re awful curious. Aren’t you tired?”

Sort of.

“What’s your name?” Edward asked the question that was on the minds of every person in the room.

I don’t have one yet, the boy replied, wandering over to the piano. He plunked on the keys in an inexperienced way. I want to learn this. This thought was strong and meant to guide Edward away from the question at hand.

“I can teach you later. But, what do you mean you don’t have a name?”

The boy shrugged. I haven’t been given one yet. Runt and Pivot haven’t decided on one that suits me.

“Who are Runt and Pivot?” Edward asked, thinking that those were very strange names.

The boy wasn’t listening. Instead, he was plunking away at the piano. Edward was about to ask again when Jasper’s voice sliced through the calm, setting everyone on edge.

“Who are Runt and Pivot?” Jasper asked.

The boy looked over at Jasper and locked eyes with him. He has a different reason for wanting to know who they are.

“What makes you think that? We all want to know who you are and who Runt and Pivot are,” Edward said in defense of Jasper.

That may be true, but he has different reasons for wanting to know. It’s just a feeling… At that, the boy turned his attention to the piano again. I want to learn this.

“I can teach you later. But don’t try to change the subject,” Edward chided.

The boy turned sharply around and held his hands behind his back, his head tilted downward in a slightly apologetic gesture. Sorry. What was the question?

“The question was, who are Runt and Pivot?”

They’re my troupe, silly. Who else would they be?

“They’re not your parents?” Edward worded the question carefully.

There was an obvious change in the boy’s demeanor. His shoulders slouched and his milky eyes fell slightly. No.

“Where are your parents, if you don’t mind my asking?” Edward glanced over at Jasper and nodded. Jasper then lifted the heavy sorrows that burdened the small boy.

The boy turned sharply to face those sitting on the couch. He could feel that his emotions were no longer under his own control and would have panicked if Jasper had let him. Now he was looking over each face, searching for the one responsible.

It was him, he thought towards Edward, pointing to Jasper.

Although no one else could hear the boy’s thoughts, they all understood what he meant by this gesture.

Edward cleared his throat. “How did you know that?” he asked softly.

Just a feeling, the boy answered. Tell him I don’t like that.

“Jasper,” Edward addressed his brother, “he…doesn’t like that.”

“My apologies,” Jasper hissed, lifting his control off of the small boy.

Doesn’t sound like an apology. The boy turned to Edward. What was the question? I forgot.

“What happened to your parents?” Edward asked again.

The boy was silent for a long time.

“What happened to your parents?” Renesmee repeated her father’s question, curious to find out the answer.

She’s your real daughter? the boy asked Edward, although was still too young to understand the weight or the meaning of this question.

Edward nodded. “That’s correct.” He gave a desperate glance towards his wife, Bella, as he continued. “Could you answer the question, please?”

When I was bitten, my parent’s saw me change. They got scared and threw me out. The boy turned away from the crowd, tears welling up. I don’t know what I would have done if Runt and Pivot didn’t find me.

“So, Runt and Pivot are your guardians?” Edward asked.

The boy nodded. They’re my family now.

“I see. And they haven’t given you a name yet?”

Nope. They haven’t decided on one. The boy faced Edward now, his eyes no longer wet.

“What was the name your parents gave you?” Edward asked, trying to coax the boy into cooperation.

I don’t go by that name anymore, the boy objected, making a disgusted face.

“Well, what will we call you if you don’t have a name?”

The boy thought this over for a few moments. My parents called me Sloan. It means warrior. There was a hint of pride when he stated the meaning.

“I think you like your name more than you let on to,” Edward pointed out.

The boy shrugged. Okay, then. Call me Sloan.

Edward turned to his family. “His name is Sloan. When his parents discovered that he was a werewolf, they threw him out of the house. Runt and Pivot are his senior companions. They found him and took them in as a part of their ‘troupe’.”

The family was grateful for this explanation. Esme took the opportunity to cross the room in one quick motion and whisk the boy into her arms. She cuddled him briefly, surprised at how durable he felt in her strong arms. “Sloan, you really should get some rest. We’ll bath you first and get you some new clothes, then it’s straight to bed!”

The boy sighed. Do I have to?

“Yes,” Edward answered Sloan’s unspoken question, “you have to.”

Sloan rolled his eyes but complied. Before he was taken upstairs to the bath, he met the eyes of Leah. Unable to look away from her, he thought, She’s important to me.

“How…?” Edward was unable to finish his question. Jasper could sense that he was struggling with the boy, not wholly comprehending him.

What is it? Jasper asked.

“He’s…gifted…” Edward replied in a low voice, too low for Sloan to pick up on.

Gifted? Every individual in the room echoed the same thought.

Edward nodded. “Very. But he doesn’t know it. Not yet.”