(no subject)

[themidnightson]

It doesn't strike Edward that it's even happening at first.

He's sitting in a chair near the sunny window, reading a thick brown leather bound book that's at least three quarters his age, when the soft melody of musical notes just starts to accompany the words that are whispering through his thoughts. He pauses for certain seconds, between the words following the rise and descent and small trill and tinkle of changes, only to smoothly finish the sentence he's reading.

Comments

[themidnightson]

Edward reached up and rubbed his neck. "Just not how."

He continues his words even as though it's still the same sentence, willing Carlisle to put the pieces of the day together with what he's saying.

A puppet on parade, dancing between the lines of a truth and a promise. Not that either of them really wants his opinion on how that went out. Especially not now.

[ofthefamily]

Just not how. It didn't click over. What is Edward trying to sa--

Oh.

Carlisle would have seen. Even with Carlisle's academic knowledge of Esme's past, he would have had to see the way Esme saw, Charles' backhanded blows and worse --

Carlisle sits down on the bench again. Oh.

[themidnightson]

It hurts. Helping and seeing the collection of Esme's memories gentle against the side of his thoughts and just hearing. But its the common constant. He can let instinct and habit slip into the place where the far more numb parts of his awareness don't want to pick up the slack.

"She loves you more than anything in this whole world."

Esme would never do anything to Carlisle that would make his load heavier.

[ofthefamily]

I know.


I love her enough to have almost lost you after all


Do you know where she is?

[themidnightson]

He's got enough control right now.

Even as it hits, detonates is a better-cleaner-clearer more academically precise term his own mind interjects, and silence is all the room gets.

"Outside near the flower beds," Edward commented, then without a pause. "But she's about to head inside through the garage door."

[ofthefamily]

"I should -- I should probably -- "

He doesn't stand again. This puts Carlisle's eyes at the level of Edward's wrist. The crest he's been wearing constantly for 85 years.

[themidnightson]

"It's going to be okay."

The easiest lie is the one that is made of honesty.

"And you should. She's been fretting about it all day. She feels terrible that in protecting you she might not have been there when you needed her."



It's also the one the isn't one.

At the same time.

[ofthefamily]

Esme's concern is a common one in the Cullen household. Carlisle stands.

The void of the deafness is subsiding quickly even though the fact of it remains. He's returning to normal and it's the first moment where Carlisle feels like It's going to be okay might not be a lie.

I am always here Edward

Carlisle smiles at him before leaving. Thank you for the Satie.

[themidnightson]

"Of course."

Edward stands in the empty room, too pristinely aware. He wants to be far away. He needs to replace his piano bench. He wants to run out the doors, not stop running until whatever is going to happen does. It worked with Bella for the first month.

Bella.


He wants to be there, too. Sharp and specific.

In the only place he feels at a loss for his anxiety.

Her absence for this day, for it's needs, have been taxing.


But he's supposed to be somewhere else first.