Black and White
“Save him!” The voice startles me. I had no idea that she was capable of speech, deteriorating as her condition was. Her voice is hoarse, no more than a rasp among many other rasps, and yet it holds a commanding power, daring me to oppose her wish.
“I’ll do everything in my power,” I promise her, knowing that this is true, and it will never be enough.
“You must!” she says, as if seeing through my words. “You must do everything in your power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward.”
This is Edward's transformation, as seen through the eyes of the one who changed him.
I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while; I've been busy with school. Anyway, this story just came to me, and I just sat down and wrote. I know that there are probably many stories like this, but this is my take on Edward's transformation, Carlisle POV. I might do an Edward POV later on. There is some dialogue from New Moon. Enjoy! Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or themes from Twilight. This is just fanfiction. The honorary title of creator belongs to the great STEPHENIE MEYER. Translation: (Please, please don't sue me.)
Rating 5/5 Word Count 1086 Review this Chapter
Edward Anthony Masen Cullen awakes.
It feels so good to say that last name, to know that he is now part of my family. Of course, it is by no means guaranteed that he will want to stay with me; he might hate me for doing this to him and want to go his own way. For the first time, I feel a twinge of horror for what I have done. What if he does not stick to my “vegetarian” lifestyle? Have I just created a monster and am I about to loose him among the populace? But I push that thought away. I remember the pure, good look on Edward’s human face, and know that he will not let me down. Even if he decides to leave me, he will strive to abstain from killing humans. He is that kind of person.
Edward Anthony Masen Cullen awakes.
His eyes open, and the screams that have wracked his body since the night, seventy-four hours ago, that I changed him cease. He opens his eyes, their beautiful emerald replaced by the brightest scarlet, and looks around him in wonder and confusion.
Suddenly he notices me. His eyes widen, and then narrow as the whips out of the lying position he was in. In half a second, he is across the room, facing me in a defensive crouch with a low growl building in his throat.
I put my hands up in a gesture of peace. “Please, do not be alarmed. I am Carlisle Cullen. I will not hurt you.” I hope he remembers that I was the one who nursed his whole family, back when he was first brought into the hospital.
“Yes, I remember.” His voice bounces across the room to me, and he relaxes slightly. I wonder what question he is answering.
“You wanted to know if I remember you, from the hospital, and I do. Where am I? Where is my mother?”
That is strange – I didn’t ask if he remembered me, or not out loud at least. But I brush this aside and smile. “You are in my house. I am very sorry to say that your mother has…died, Edward. I am sorry. I did everything in my power to save her.”
His throat constricts. “My mother is…dead?” His defensive position falls away completely, and he buries his head in his hands. Sobs shake his body, but I know that no tears come; they cannot.
Then, suddenly, his head whips back up. “How did she die? Did you kill her? What did you do?” There is anger in his eyes.
“Relax, Edward. I did not kill your mother. She died of the influenza, just as you were about to. But I saved you.”
“How did you save me? Why not her?”
But I can’t say anything more, because just then his hands reach up to his throat, grasping, trying to soothe the aching burn that I know, from experience, is there. An almost crazed look has come into his eyes, and he looks around thirstily.
I suddenly realize the enormity of his thirst. I should not have taken him into the city, where there were so many people – the right thing to do would have been to change him in the forest, where I could have taken him hunting immediately. But there is nothing I can do now. I ponder how to break it to him, how to tell him what he is. A vampire.
His eyes get almost impossibly wide. “What? I am a…vampire?”
And I know that I have to take him hunting. Immediately.
He looks eager. “Okay, let’s go.”
I make him hold his breath as we race across the rooftops. It is night, and that makes it easier for him to resist, when there are no humans in the streets. We run into the forest, and it is there that he finally sates his thirst. As I watch him, I notice his grace, his elegance, the way he stalks his prey like a dancer. He is perfect.
I do not hunt very much, letting Edward take most of the prey. He acts on instinct, and so there is not much I need to teach him. That gives me a lot of time to think. He always seems to be answering questions or ideas that I do not say aloud, only think.
And it hits me. During my time with the Volturi in Italy, the three told me of vampires that are created with gifts, special powers that they receive along with their transformed bodies. Aro himself demonstrated his gift on me, though luckily I was able to avoid being the subject of Jane’s power. And seeing how it seems that Edward has been answering my thoughts, I can only assume one thing.
Edward is a mind reader.
He looks up from the deer he has just finished with; there is blood all over his shirt. “Really? You think so?”
I know so, I answer mentally, knowing he can hear me.
After Edward’s thirst is finally sated, we go home.
There, I sit with him and think. He hears me.
I tell him of what he has become, what his abilities are and how he feeds. I tell him my own story, and how I abstain from drinking from humans. I also describe how he will need to stay inside for the next year or so, becoming more civilized, more controlled.
After I am done, he tells me of his life, speaking aloud. A sad tone infuses his voice as he describes his mother and pleasure as he recounts his childhood memories. We sit like this for a while, and then I remember that he has not answered the most important question of all.
Will you stay with me? I ask him.
He looks at me like I am lacking something in the brain department. “Of course. Why would I not?”
And for the first time in my life, I feel pride. I feel proud of this man, my son, who is every bit as good as I thought him to be. And maybe the world is painted in black and white after all, or at least in some areas. For if this is true, then Edward, without a doubt, is all white.