A Litany at Dusk by duskwatcher2153 COMPLETE.pdf

A Litany at Dusk

by duskwatcher2153

Summary: Edward's been a solitary vampire, hunting on the edges of society. He rejoins his family

in Forks, ready to abstain and runs across a young woman praying. A choice must be made between

one's heart, one's desires and one's soul. Darkward ExB AU

Chapter One ~ The Prodigal Son Returns

Edward

Christopher Sloane

Chester Smith

Duvall Smith

Levoyne Sorkin

Frank Sterrit

Carl Stubbs

Frederick Surdyka

Alan Swett

Roger Swiderski

Alfred Sylvia

Laurence Symmons

It was a litany of names, a list I knew by heart. I ran through it each day at twilight, sometimes alphabetically,

sometimes chronologically, sometimes by another seemingly random factor. It stopped the list from

becoming a slur of meaningless sounds.

The single headlamp of the motorcycle illuminated the dark road, and I kept the recitation going in time with

the passing of the broken white lines of the highway. The incessant roar from the bike was a constant ringing

in my ears. The dark foliage on either side of the highway was deepened from the onslaught of night. This

road ran through some sparsely settled areas, and I hadn't seen any cars for miles.

Peter Tesscini

David Troutman

Martha Troutman

Saul Turetzky

Sanford Tyler

Hiko Umezawa

Victor Uroz

So many names. So many lives. The wind whipped my hair, and I was grateful for the sunglasses that kept the

gnats from my eyes as they populated the dusk. The thrumming of the powerful motorcycle between my legs

pounded an insistent counter rhythm to the listing. It was a Harley Davidson Night Rod, and I had been on it

for days.

I'd found it was easiest to go through the list if I was traveling as I was now. Somehow, dropping the names as

the miles passed by made it easier to bear. Like I was leaving them behind like stepping stones back to my

beginning, back to the person I had once been.

I was nearing the end of the litany as I pulled into the well-hidden, unpaved turn-off. It was just as Emmett had

described it. I was going home, to a house I'd never seen before. I was tortured by the fact that I didn't know if

this would be a home for me, or if it was just my family's home.

Creeping down the long driveway, I saw the golden welcoming light shining out of the windows. It was

another spectacular house, contemporary and modern, lots of glass walls, and set in a clearing overlooked by

six huge pines. The shadows beneath the trees were darkening quickly as dusk slid into evening, the trees as

sinister as the house was beckoning.

The bike rumbled to a stop. I turned it off and set the kickstand. Bowing my head and clenching my gloved fist

against my leather-clad leg, I opened my mind. I caught the tenor of six different voices; they were all home.

Each voice had its own distinct flavor and the mix of them together was like hearing a favorite song from

years past. I surveyed their thoughts and heard my name in all of them. However, only Esme and Carlisle were

coming to greet me. That must have been Alice's doing and I felt a gush of gratitude toward her. The last thing

I wanted was the pretense of a big, happy homecoming.

Pulling off the sunglasses, I placed them in the travel bag strapped to the back of the bike. I peeled off the

leather gloves finger by finger and shook them out. I'd been riding for 48 hours straight. I wasn't tired—I

never had the luxury of being tired, but I was exhausted. Exhausted with my life and where it had led me. Now

it led me here. The black sheep had come back to the fold. The prodigal son had returned.

Esme and Carlisle were at the door as I trudged up the steps. Esme immediately pulled me into her arms, her

pale loveliness radiating comfort and welcome. "So glad you're here," she whispered. I wrapped my arms

around her and bent my head to feel her hair on my face. She was cool and unyielding under my hands, so

unlike my victims. I closed my eyes as I remembered that the last time I had been touched in affection was

over fourteen years ago. Esme put into words what I had been thinking. "It's been too long."

It had been too long since I had had any kind of connection to anyone. I had drifted back and forth across the

North America so many times that I'd lost count. Always traveling but never headed anywhere, I'd been the

quintessential nomad. I had roamed as freely and as purposelessly as a leaf pushed downstream as it rides the

river's current. I fed when the thirst became too much, and I was careful in selecting my victims. That was,

until last month, and now I questioned my existence and purpose with a vengeance.

Esme drew back and placed a hand on my face, no doubt noticing the blackness of my eyes and the shadows

under them. "You haven't been feeding." It wasn't a question.

I placed my hand on hers and smiled at her maternal concern. Years ago, I would have shaken off any of her

concerns as an unneeded intrusion into my life, but now I took it for the sign of affection that it was.

"No." I would not show up on Carlisle's doorstep with crimson eyes. I respected him too much to flaunt my

choices in his face.

Looking over Esme's shoulder, I met Carlisle's golden eyes. He was my maker and my father in all the ways

that counted. Esme stepped back as Carlisle stepped forward. I felt like I was on the brink of some deep hole,

and when he gathered me in his arms, it was as if he had pulled me away from the edge of the cliff. I started to

tremble with the strength of the unexpressed emotion in me, despair, sadness, shame, relief at his welcome,

love for his clear, calming mind, and an overwhelming sense of loss. I closed my eyes and rested my head on

his shoulder, brought nearly to tears with the sense of haven I felt in his arms. I owed this man my life and so

much more, and I had repaid him deplorably. Yet each time I asked something of him, he gave whatever I

needed, freely and with both hands open. I didn't deserve Carlisle in my life, and I was miserably aware of the

fact. "May I stay here for a while?" I whispered, not raising my head.

His arms tightened around me, and I felt his hand stroke my head. "Of course, we're your family."

Esme's hand touched my back. "You belong with us."

I swallowed hard, trying to control my feelings. I didn't know if that was true or not. A broken sound escaped

me, before I regained control. The only thing I knew for sure was that I could no longer live my life the way I

had been for the greater part of seventy years.

"You don't know what it means to hear you say that." I choked out. I was sick of death and violence. Before I

had always justified my existence with rationales about only selecting the evildoers, I was ready to admit that

I was not good at playing God; ready to admit that the world does not exist in black and white. I was ready to

surrender.

"Oh, my son," Carlisle whispered, his arms holding me tightly. His thoughts were running back to when he had

made me and our first years together, the times we had spent traveling and living together, learning each

others' ways. I had come back and lived as he did several times within the past seventy years, but each time,

after months or years had passed, I would leave again to deal with the injustices of the world, as if they were

mine to solve. I no longer held onto that pretense.

"Thank you," I said softly, still holding Carlisle. My chest felt like it was expanding with gratitude and relief. I

was at a crossroads in my life, and I craved Carlisle's patient wisdom to help me make some sense of the mess

I had made of my reality. If he had turned me down, I would have nowhere to go, and that thought terrified

me.

Carlisle released me, and I reluctantly stepped away from his arms. Esme took me by the hand and smiling,

led me into the house. "We have a room for you. No matter where we've lived, there's always been a room for

you."

I hesitated, but Carlisle placed a hand on my shoulder. His thoughts were clear and compassionate, as always.

Go. We'll talk later.

"Thank you," I whispered again, letting Esme lead me.

Esme turned to me as we started up the steps of a sleek chrome and wood staircase. "Your brothers and

sisters wanted to greet you, but Alice saw that you needed some time."

InoddedasweturneddownahallPleasetellthemthankyoubutIcouldntevenfinishmysentenceI

was in no shape to try to cope with their lightness and acceptance. I loved them; I just felt unworthy of their

love and to see it in their eyes would only make me feel more alienated. I desperately needed a slice of silence

and peace.

The room at the end of the hall was wide and had huge glass windows that looked out over a meadow with a

stream that was rapidly fading into blackness as night fell. The furnishings were minimal: a black leather sofa,

a desk, a stereo with a small collection of CDs, and a flatscreen. "I hope you like it." Her eyes were shadowed

with concern; she saw something broken in me that she had never seen before, and it was worrying her.

"It's more than I could have wished." I would have been content with a hole in the basement.

"There is a piano downstairs. Perhaps you'll come play...?" She smiled hopefully. Esme always felt most

complete with all her family gathered around her. She was the heart of the Cullen family and her joy was in

seeing us together.

"Esme, I don't know if I can. Perhaps later," I said, feeling my throat close. I hated to disappoint her, but right

now I couldn't face any more of my family. I swayed with the sudden depth of my exhaustion. I was just weary

down to my bones with it all, and the thought of being alone in this still, quiet room was calling to me

irresistibly.

"Of course," she said, kissing my cheek. "Take whatever time you need." Pausing at the door, she looked me in

the eyes, trying to convey her sincerity. "Welcome home, Edward. Really, welcome home." The door clicked

softly behind her as she left me.

I ran my fingers through my hair and looked around the room. There was a closet and a bathroom off the right

wall. Stepping up to the french doors that overlooked a dark meadow below, I pushed them open to smell the

clean, damp aroma of the surrounding forests. A new moon was rising over the eastern horizon. Below me on

the ground, Rosalie had left the house, pounding across the meadow in ferocious strides like an Amazon.

Emmett came trotting behind her and whispered in her ear while his hand slid along her ass. "Perhaps

Edward's not the only one who wants to be alone. Maybe we could be alone together," he whispered

suggestively. She gave a playful shove at his chest and took off running.

He looked back at the house and his eyes found me unerringly. "Brother," he whispered, knowing I would

hear him. With a fist, he pounded his chest where his heart would be and then pointed at me in a gesture of

filial affection. I smiled and made the same gesture.

"Emmett," Rosalie called, some yards ahead, her hands on her hips.

He grinned and said, "Catch ya later." He caught up with Rosalie and grabbed her, spinning her around once

before setting her on her feet. Together they sped off into the distance, leaping the river in a single bound and

disappearing into the forests beyond. I heard their laughter as it trailed behind them.

Their closeness and easy familiarity tugged at me. I had felt like an outsider for so long and so unrelentingly. I

didn't know if I could ever be a part of the heart of the Cullen family. I had tried before and failed on more

than one occasion. It was me; it was always me. But the thought that was making my soul cringe in anguish

was whether I deserved to be a part of this family. The loneliness, despair and shame that I had been fighting

for years swallowed me up. I lay back on the sofa and threw my arm across my eyes. I closed my mind and

stopped breathing, stopped listening, stopped thinking.

***

I lay like that for three days, coming to awareness only at twilight. I would take the time then to compose

myself and murmur my litany of names, before falling back into the black hole that had claimed me. I was

minimally roused on several occasions when Esme peeked into my room, but I kept still, and she would soon

tiptoe out. Her concern for me was warming, but I wasn't ready. I was sick— heartsick to the core, and I didn't

know if there was a cure for what ailed me.

I had spent the majority of my existence feeding on the worst dregs of humanity, the unrepentant rapists,

murderers, drug-pushers and child exploiters. With each life I took, I knew some other human out there was

safer for my actions. I could hear the thoughts of the evil and felt like I was cleansing the world. I thought I

was bringing justice; now I recognized I had only been bringing vengeance and that there was a world of

difference.

It was if a veil had been lifted from my eyes and I could see myself as the selfish, self-deluding monster that I

was.

I heard Alice's thoughts pointed at me even before she climbed the stairs. She was on a mission from Esme

and determination pervaded her thoughts. It was clever of Esme to send the one person who could see what

words would persuade me.

Edward, Edward . The door to my room opened. Come out, come out wherever you are.

I sighed. Her thoughts said she wasn't going to go away anytime soon. Reluctantly, I sat up.

She was leaning in the doorway, dressed casually in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. "About time you joined the

world."

I rubbed my eyes and jaw. "Hello."

She walked across the room to come sit beside me on the sofa. "I've been recruited to take you hunting.

Esme's orders."

She saw me jerk at the word hunting. "In the forest," she amended softly.

I nodded. The thirst was becoming fierce, and it would only be harder to ignore if I didn't take some kind of

remedial action.

Alice put her arm around my shoulders and leaned her head into mine. "I'm glad you're home." I heard her

thought. I've missed you most of all, Tin Man. She was paraphrasing the Wizard of Oz.

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