Crescent • A Twilight Story

Seemingly Human

I stirred to a bright light.

A freezing hand touched mine, gold eyes looking down at me.

"Rory, is it? I'm Carlisle." He motioned to a woman in the corner, looking through a microscope. "And this is Bella, Ward's grandmother."

She offered a small smile, before turning back to the table.

"May I help you up?" The bed began to move, a tray swiveling in front of me. "You should have some water." I took small sips.

"Hey," Duke strode over, deep brown eyes full of worry.

Bella came to the edge of my bed with a tablet, brows furrowed together.

"Carlisle, did you see the readings for the pulse ox?"

"Low. Yes." Carlisle switched places with her, peering into the microscope.

"The girl," I croaked out, my voice incredibly hoarse.

"She won't hurt you ever again."

"She said I did something unforgivable to her."

"She's the one who did the unforgivable." Duke snapped. A monitor beside me flashed, the beeping growing louder, faster. I placed a hand on my chest, my heart feeling like it was about to explode.

"You're safe here." Bella touched my leg. "Take a few deep breaths."

I tried, gasping at the sharp intake of air. Duke grabbed the sides of my face. "Focus on me. It's okay now. You're okay."

I copied his breathing, slowly and steadily, until my heart calmed and the beeping steadied. Everything Ward said came back in a flood, as I realized the company I kept. Duke's especially, as I turned away from from his concerned gaze and hold on me. He straightened, tucking his hands underneath his crossed arms.

"We'll give you some privacy." They let themselves out, closing the door behind us.

"Rory, I,"

"Am I really safe here? With them. With you?" The paint on the ceiling suddenly became the most interesting thing in the room.

"What did Ward tell you?"

"Everything." He turned away, rolling his shoulders and keeping his breaths steady.

"And you're sure," I clenched the bed sheets between my fists. "He didn't leave anything out?"

"Werewolves. Vampires. What happened with my mom. And you," His head snapped back toward me, mouth held in a thin straight line. "The anger."

"So he warned you to stay away from me." My head pounded as I struggled to remember the exact wording.

"The gist." He was shaking, pacing the room. "He said you felt you had a right to call me yours."

His lips parted then, and he froze. Pulling up a chair, he sat beside the bed, but at a considerable distance.

"He has it all wrong." He propped his elbows on his knees, wringing his hands. The skin around his neck turned a subtle shade of red. "I'm not under some delusion that you belong to anyone other than yourself. It'd be an honor to call you mine, but I know that right has to be earned. No, Rory," There were tears in his eyes, strange and wet tears, though he seemed so big. So strong. "Don't you see? I belong to you. I'm yours, whatever way you need me to be."

I blinked, unsure if I could breathe again. But the monitors stayed steady, even as I struggled to ask, "Why?"

"The moment I saw you, my life didn't become my own anymore. It became yours. And the more I got to know you, the pain you've endured not just with your mom, but your whole life, I wanted to be there for you in ways no one else ever had. As a brother. A friend." He looked downward, hanging his head low.