A/N: Thank you all for following this story and enjoying its tale. The debate on to sparkle, or not to sparkle is quite interesting, and later on I'll let it be known which one came out as the victor. As for the eventual pairing, it'll also be made known at a later date; though I have a feeling some readers may be surprised by how it will be done and carried out. Either way I hope everyone enjoys how everything goes.

Also once more I have to say thank you all for the wonderful reviews you have given me. I cherished them all as they bring countless smiles to me and happiness. I just started writing a few months ago, and to know the tales I write are being enjoyed is such a fulfilling feeling, so I thank you.

I truly hope everyone enjoys this chapter, and please do leave a review if you do, they are something I enjoy immensely.

And now…

Onwards…

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.

The first thing he noticed was how there was nothing.

Or rather…

How dark it was, and how far it seemed to stretch on.

The next thing he noticed was the silence. There was no wind to be heard rustling his hair, there was no comforting sound of his heart beating in his chest, nor was there any melody to be heard, hummed quietly as if not to startle the listener.

No.

All that was, all that could be…

Was nothing.

He could try to look around, to move and become more aware of his surroundings. Yet he came to realize that he could not see, or perhaps there simply existed nothing for him to see, and thus, there was no reason for him to look in the first place. He thought of moving his legs or arms, but there was no possible way to move them, no way to know if they were there. He then started to wonder if he even possessed them to begin with.

Perhaps instead, he simply was. He was simply there, where nothing existed for him to see, for nothing to be heard or thought of but him.

That thought… was comforting; but in an almost sad sort of way.

It would have made him cry he was sure, if he had a face in which tears were to fall upon.

This nothingness suited him, for here there could be nothing to ever come harm him, there could not be anything to come by and wish ill of him.

Here he would simply exist, without pause, without reason.

He almost wanted to stay here forever.

Perhaps he was simply a thought; a small thought surrounded in nothingness where once existed millions or more. Yet now, all that there was, was simply him.

He was getting sad again.

It was an odd feeling, sadness.

It came quickly, as if formed like an arrow on a taunt bow, only to be released once it was sure to strike him true. Then the feeling would slowly well up until he realized he was in pain, that he was sad.

Perhaps he should stop thinking in a way that would make him sad.

Instead he concentrated on the comforting nothingness, maybe he could stay here, floating away peacefully for all of eternity. Locked away safely from prying eyes and violence; much like how a caring mother tries to shield their child from the harsh realties that exist within the world.

Here he could be protected, hidden away in a peaceful isolation.

Forever.

'Is that really what you want?'

He startled at the soft voice, after having grown so used to being alone, it felt odd to have another here with him. It was a nice voice however, gentle and oh so peaceful, as if to lull him into a calming slumber. The voice reminded him of warm summer days, in which the sun would seem to caress his cold skin with its invigorating touch, it made him think of children's laughter as they played together in child like innocence, being watched closely and with love by their mothers and fathers. The voice no longer startled him, but instead left him feeling content, it made him feel loved and wanted.

He decided he liked the voice.

It laughed then, the sound like wind chimes flowing in a lazy autumn breeze, of a child falling into a pile of crackling leaves in late October, as they squealed out in joy and exhilaration.

Just as suddenly as the sound began, so did it stop, leaving him with an odd aching feeling after.

'Do you really want to drift away?'

It seemed almost sad at the thought, as if it was only a moment away from crying tears of the purest crystal from its sorrow at his loss. For one desperate moment he would have lied or spoken truthfully, he would of spoke the grandest of myths, or the most heartbreaking of truths; he would have done anything, anything at all just to have that beautiful voice sound happy once more.

The darkness almost seemed to blur around him then, as if it had been listening to his innermost thoughts and desires and now wished to grant him them. With a start he realized he was now standing. He could feel his toes flexing as they tried to keep themselves steady on the strange surface. He could not name it, no matter how hard he tried. He could feel blades of grass tickling his skin, just as he could feel the cold chill brought upon by a late snow fall in winter. As with the others he could feel the gentlest of silks caressing his toes along with the roughest of wool scratching at them in an almost uncomfortable manner. There was no rhyme or reason for all the different sensations, they just simply were. He gasped loudly at the sudden change, the sound seeming the echo in the vast emptiness. In the far off distance did soon a bright light appear then, it seemed to be calling for him, whispering secrets close enough to entice him by, but far enough that no matter how hard he strained, he could not hear the whispered words and promises.

He stayed still however, and did not follow after their enticement.

He didn't want to return after all.

He didn't want to go to wherever the light called him to.

'Why not?'

He jumped in surprise then, having thought the voice to have long since left him. Valiantly he tried to turn and face the odd voice, his curiosity bubbling within him as he wondered on the appearance of the speaker beside him. Surely they must look ethereal; a being beyond simple words of beauty, far beyond the touch of any, for the beauty and love in which they spoke was truly beyond that of man. Yet try as he might it was not to be, he could not turn or move no matter how much he wished to. He felt frustration fill him at the thought of being denied a glance, before wondering if perhaps he was not worthy of it to begin with. It chuckled softly then at his confusion before calmly denying his question of self worth. With no words it seemed to tell him how he was worth more then the grandest of silks, more then any answer of life, he was worth so much more in it's kind eyes, something which he believed to be inconceivable. It seemed to smile then and slowly did it place a warm and soft hand upon his shoulder, filling him up once more with thoughts of love and affection.

'There's so much you haven't seen, so much for you to enjoy and live for… are you truly willing to throw it all away?'

He frowned and thought on its simple question for the longest of moments. He could not remember what he had seen, what he had experienced, any and all thoughts he had of things before him came only from the voice and speaker. All that he knew, all the knowledge that he himself possessed was surprisingly little. He knew he existed here in this vast emptiness, and he knew, without a doubt, that he simply was. There was nothing else to tell him who he was, what he had seen or experienced besides an overwhelming feeling of sorrow and abandonment, of fears now unknown to him. He became scared then of these unknown fears, for what was there to stop them from continuing, from coming back to harm him?

'And if they stop? And if your fears are unfounded?'

Then… maybe he would return? There were still so many things left uncertain to him. He wondered faintly if the voice would follow him, if it would join him on this bemusing journey. He wanted it to. Oh did he want it. He liked the feeling of unconditional love and protection it gave him, how it would leave him with a sense of contentment and warmth.

It sighed sadly then, and already he could feel himself grow disheartened at the answer he was sure to receive.

'I can not go with you…"

He felt sadness then, he should have known such a thing. Should have realized how it would be impossible. The voice continued on, seeming to fight away his morose thoughts.

'But I can take you back…'

For a moment he wondered if he truly did desire to go back from whence he came, yet all he knew…

All that he really knew…

Was that he didn't want to be alone.

'Then walk Harry.'

He blinked in surprise at the soft spoken name.

'Just walk; and you won't have to be alone any longer.'

Its presence disappeared then, as if to leave him as he made his decision. Taking a deep breath he curled up his toes nervously before raising his foot away from the nothingness. The air went still and quiet then, as if filled with anticipation for his next move.

And so, throwing caution to the wind…

He began to walk towards that faint yet brilliant light.

And this time.

He did not think to glance back.

Left behind him in the shadows of the vast darkness, in a world that would never be meant for him; did a pair of brilliant green eyes, so much like his own, look onwards at his retreating form with love before they too disappeared. Leaving only the faint scent of fresh lilies behind to show their presence ever being there to begin with.

Jacob stood still in front of the waiting room door. Sam and Seth waited quietly on uncomfortable plastic seats, having long since given up on having him join them. The rest of the pack had been sent home, the hospital having been too small too host them all and there having been no valid reason for all of them to be there to begin with. Bella sat hidden away in a corner, trying to focus on the news channel playing softly on the small discoloured television. Yet every now and then her eyes would stray to the door as well as she bit her bottom lip raw, immense guilt and regret pooling up in her dark brown eyes. Charlie seemed to be stuck in a state of shock, and had barely been coherent enough to sigh off on the waivers presented to him that would allow Harry any medical procedure he might need. Since the boy was currently counted as a ward of the state they needed someone to sign them before they could try and heal him. Charlie had hurriedly signed his messy signature then, wanting the young teen to receive the care he so desperately needed as soon as possible.

Jacob hadn't moved from the door since one of the nurses on staff had bustled them all in, her aged faced lined with worry as she glanced back at the operating room. While his body was still, his mind would not give him such a respite, and instead his thoughts were in chaos as he tried to make sense of it all.

Never in his sixteen years of life, had he'd seen anyone die before.

They had killed a vampire once, and he supposed in a way that counted as a death. But to him, it had only been a monster, something that needed to be put down and eliminated.

Yet Harry… Harry was different. He had been nothing like that monster, nothing like it at all.

The small form had looked so incredibly small in his strong arms. He had been surprised and truthfully scared at just how cold the young teen's body had been, it felt like he had been holding ice compared to his overheated form. It was almost instinctively that he thought to hold Harry closer to his chest in order to have the boy feel even a small semblance of warmth from his being.

He had looked so fragile, that as they ran with almost inhuman speed to the ambulance he was struck with the irrational fear that the small boy would simply break in his arms from being too delicate.

It had painfully reminded him of when he was younger and had found an empty robin's nest in one of the trees near the reservation. The birds that had once called it home had long since matured and flew off, leaving behind only small brilliant blue egg shells to ever tell of it's inhabitants.

His father had warned him then to touch them carefully, or they'll break in his hands. His father had smiled warmly at him and told him how incredible life truly was, for though the eggs were so delicate, so easy to break and destroy; they had been strong enough to support a life until it had grown. Those same weak eggs had survived over countless of odds as it held within it's depths a beautiful and awe inspiring life. Slowly, his father had handed him the shells, once more giving him the warning to be gentle. His hands had trembled then at being entrusted with holding such a miracle. He had tried so hard to protect and cherish them, yet no matter how honest and good his intentions were, no matter what he tried; the delicate shells had still broken within his grasp, only to turn into a fine blue powder and be carried off into the wind.

He'd cried then, cried large fat tears as the feeling of shame welled up within him for destroying something so beautiful, for being such a brute as to break something so precious.

His father had smiled at him sadly and pulled him into a hug. He had explained that some things in life were so beautiful, so precious and delicate, that they simply weren't meant to last long, only to be treasured for one brilliant moment before being taken away, off to where they truly belonged. His father's eyes had grown filled with pain then and only later would he come to realize what he had been trying to say.

Only later would he remember the faint image of a beautiful woman with long hair the colour of midnight as she danced and laughed with his father.

That memory would only come much later.

It was one of the many reasons why he had chosen to work with cars. To be a mechanic he needed strength in order to fix the gears or breaks. He had no reason to worry about being careful, of being gentle. Not there.

Yet when he had held Harry in his arms, all he could think of was those eggshells. And for the first time since becoming a wolf he had been scared, and filled with fear.

He had been so scared of being too rough, of breaking the small boy in his arms, just as he had destroyed the robin eggs so long ago.

He had watched in fear as Harry tried to push away, his body already so weak yet still having the strength to attempt to fight back. He felt like a monster for the first time since he's changed, because he could barley feel Harry's touch, it had felt like the softest of caresses to him. So gentle and delicate, so easy for him to destroy.

For that one moment, he had hated himself.

As they ran to the ambulance, his too small chest has seemed to fight for every breath he took into his lungs. His ribs seeming to strain against the pale skin, to Jacob he had been weightless. Almost as if the teen was just a bird in human form, with hollow bones to make sure the earth did not hold him when he tried to fly off, with bones so thin and fragile that even the smallest touch could cause immense harm.

Then those brilliant emerald green eyes had looked upon him, a gentle and calm look had graced the too pale features. And instantly he had been filed with dread as he realized something had gone horribly wrong.

Harry's heart started to accelerate; he could feel its desperate beating against his skin, trying to keep the small body alive as its beats grew more frantic with the effort.

Then…

It just stopped.

Those brilliant eyes closed ever so slowly… and…

Nothing…

Harry wasn't there anymore.

He had stood still in disbelief before releasing a desperate howl, he had cried out in pain and anguish at having to watch something so beautiful being taken away.

He hated himself.

He hated how once more he had destroyed something so precious and delicate by being too rough. The small boy lying limply in his arms had stopped living because he could not be gentle, because no matter how many warning he had been given, he was incapable of holding something so fragile.

He had grown frantic then, and held the quickly cooling body near his chest in a vain attempt at protection as his pack watched on with various looks of sorrow and pity. It was only because of Sam that he did not go truly insane then. The alpha had calmed him enough to make him still head towards the ambulance, he had fed him a lie in the form of hope. And like a man desperate for water he had reached for it. He had told him how it was possible to bring him back if they rushed, if they kept moving.

And so he ran.

He didn't pay any mind to the dozens of cuts littering his body as he held the delicate form close. He didn't pay any mind to the trees that seemed to reach for him in an attempt to delay him, to let death take and keep the precious life he held within his arms.

He pushed on with an almost desperate hope. He wanted him to breathe again. He wanted to see those emerald eyes open again.

Just like as a child he had wished for the eggs to return to their original form, to be safe in his grasp; so did he now wish for Harry to be saved.

He had climbed into the ambulance when they'd finally reached the forest edge, ignoring any shouts of protest from the paramedic's. Faintly he remembered Bella trying to get his attention as she looked at Harry's still form. He only barley remembered her collapsing on the ground in tears, fearing the worst and not strong enough to hope for the best. Just barley did he remember the single tear that fell down Charlie's crestfallen face as he failed to save the child in time.

Yet these thoughts and memories were so faint, he barely paid them any mind.

Instead he had stared upon the unmoving body in his arms before slowly, ever so slowly and with great care handing him over to the paramedic's. The skin had long since grown cold to his touch, but all he could think of was the young teens pale face lighting up once more with colour as the satin skin filled with life once more.

They would save him.

No matter what they would save him.

He couldn't bear to think of the alternative.

And so…

He wouldn't.

The ride had went by in a blur then, they had to restrain him each time the electric shocks didn't work, each time that small body rose from the gurney just to fall back down, his heart still not beating. Every time they tried to call out a time of death he had to be restrained as he tried to lunge at the foolish medic that would just give up and let Harry die.

And then…

There was a beep on the monitor.

They had all missed it at first. The driver was too busy worrying over the road instead of the arguments happening in the back.

One of the medics had been trying to restrain him unsuccessfully as another suggested a sedative.

The other was just looking at Harry's prone form with such a strong level of sadness that it would have shocked him if he wasn't already close to becoming feral.

Then… it beeped again.

They had all stared at the small machine in surprise.

It had been so long after death, it should be impossible.

Yet… ever so faintly, was his heart beating once more in a too fragile chest.

There had been a panic when they'd finally arrived at the hospital. All of them had been against moving Harry, lest the miracle stop again and they lose him once more. It had grown dark by this point, with the only light to be seen from the glass doors as the vampire doctor rushed out with a group of nurses and doctors by his side. His pale face twisted with anger at them for holding back his patient. Jacob thought the man would have snarled at them angrily if he had possessed even a little less control. Finally the gurney was lowered and they quickly rushed Harry into the operating room.

Then some nurses had then forced him into the sitting room where Seth and his Alpha waited with the Swan's. Bella's tears had long since dried and instead she seemed filled with hope just knowing that they were waiting here.

That there was a reason to wait.

And so wait, they did.

Bella sat quietly with her father, her face pale and drawn with worry. Her father had an arm over her shoulder in comfort, yet Jacob wasn't too sure who was the one asking for such affection. Ever second that the clock moved, did the man seem to lose more hope at having good news delivered to them.

Yet Jacob stood by the door, still and unmoving as he waited.

He would not allow himself to think of Harry passing.

He would survive.

Because for Jacob, there was no other option.

And then…

The most heart wrenching and soul shattering of screams sounded through the hospital startling the night staff and some of the patients staying overnight.

Several nurses had rushed towards the operating room from their desks where just moment before they had been whispering solemnly about the poor boy

A few doctors had run passed as well, perhaps wondering if their help was needed as the scream seemed to continue on.

So much pain and agony was expressed in that one scream. It seemed almost impossible to think that such a sound could come from the fragile boy, and yet, it did.

Bella hid her face in her father's chest as the scream continued to reverberate through the hospital walls, her youth and naivety not being able to understand or even attempt to comprehend what she was hearing, instead she leaned to her father and asked for comfort; the one thing she could ask of him.

Seth was faring no better and already had tears running down his dark cheeks as he felt the pain emanating from the youth. He hugged Sam and cried as he tried to gain comfort from such a desperate situation.

Both of the adult had looked at the other in helplessness, both wanting to calm their charges and assure them that all was well yet unable to do so.

Yet through it all Jacob stood by the door, and he smiled.

Pain…

Pain can always be healed when one lives.

And while those delicate eggs from so long ago could never be brought together, he would make sure that the small and frail boy he had carried in his arms as he raced through the woods. The small delicate boy who had died so suddenly, and yet now lived…

He would make sure…

That Harry…

That Harry never again had a reason to sound as he did now.

Never again.

Time… is a rather relative term to the undead.

He had been alive now for three hundred and sixty seven years, of which only twenty three were spent as a mortal.

And through it all, had time passed him by, and left him untouched.

Cursed as he was by fate, he had tried to make himself better, to not grieve over the loss of his humanity, but rather welcome what he had now come to be.

Albeit in a different manner then was usually expected.

He had seen the worst of his kind, and now he wished to be above such crass mannerism. He did not partake of the human flesh as had so many before him, but rather he drank that hated elixir from the beast that freely roam through the land. Their life blood had sung to him; had given him a choice, which many would easily overlook.

In his vast amount of time, he had seen much of the world.

Yet still he could acknowledge that he had seen so little, so little of what truly existed that in certain moments he would be left speechless as his eyes gazed upon such marvelous wonders.

He had found early on that there existed a certain beauty and charm in the healing arts, in knowing the human body and coming to understand from just where they had come from. And to being able to see now where they aspire towards.

He had seen so many different types of medicine in his time. From the poor man who sold coloured water and called it an elixir for all ailments, all in the desperate hope of keeping his family fed through the harsh winters. Then to the almost apathetic of surgeons, who never blinked an eye when they were forced to remove a limb, yet later would drink themselves to a drunken stupor just to forget those pleading eyes as countless poor youths screamed in pure agony under their care. They would almost always cry then.

And that… was something he found he'd missed the most at times.

He missed the simple joys that came of letting go of ones oftentimes too tight hold of the many emotions that ailed the human race. He missed just letting those liquid crystals fall down his face as he sobbed for his losses.

He missed the feeling that would overtake him then. Sweet relief and a sense of calm as he cried out against all that had been wrought so cruelly against him.

His father had never understood such a thing, and instead made sure to warn him never to show such weakness.

If his father ever caught him displaying such a weakness, of ever allowing their family to be disgraced by allowing his tears to fall, he would be caned quite cruelly, and forced to recite the ten commandments by memory as the harsh and unrelenting wood struck his back with such ferocity that at times he would wonder how it was that he was not made an invalid.

He wondered if the man would find it ironic that now; after being made into the very thing he'd once despised, that he could not cry, even if that is what he wished for.

For what felt like eons did he simply wonder through the earth after his turning. He encountered and stayed with vampires of all types, from all nations. He witnessed abilities so grand, so beautiful that his breath would catch, as if even his undead heart could realize the magnificence of what was presented to him, and made him show his appreciation the only way he was able.

Of the arts, he could still hear the soft magic that seemed to weave a spell upon its patrons, locking them in it's beautiful but deadly grasp.

He'd lost count of how many he'd seen fall from its cruel yet loving touch, their mortal bodies not able to stand its magnificence. They would instead leave behind gifts for other's to share and remember them by. To let others remember the once brilliant fire that laid claim upon their person.

It was as he witnessed and saw all these things come to pass, it was as he began to realize his immortality, as he filled with despair on the thought of his never ending life… that he had finally decided to become selfish.

And so he turned his first childe, a young boy, who forevermore would be kept from adulthood. To be known as always a boy, and never a man.

He'd spent days and then months wondering about his actions, about the possible consequences that would later arise from such a selfish act.

Yet… he'd soon realized, he did not regret it.

And probably never would.

In his undying selfishness he had turned more, and soon surrounded himself in a coven, in a family.

Something he had never wished for in his mortal life, but so desired in his death.

It was an odd way of life, the path he had chosen. Yet when time is but a simple word, written with simple letters, it all becomes rather relative.

However.

Just as there are still thing yet to be seen in this world.

Just as he grows to wonder if he has finally seen everything…

Something appears before him, that makes his undead heart beat and his breath catch.

A small, too small boy had been brought in, with such a malnourished and delicate frame that the childe could be anywhere from twelve to seventeen.

So small and young, so utterly delicate.

He had seen millions of different human faces in his career, had treated millions of others in the past.

Yet this small insignificant childe had caused him to pause.

The reports showed that he had been dead for almost twenty minutes before his heart had started again.

Something… that had previously been claimed impossible in the medical world.

The boy's body looked so weak, and as the poison had already entered his already weakened system, he began to doubt that the boy would live past the night.

For yet another selfish moment he had thought of turning him, of changing this small incredible child who had caused him to wonder, to pause in his immortal life.

A true impossibility.

Yet with the treaty hanging over him like an executioner standing before the gallows he knew he could not, even when he so desperately wanted the mysterious child to live.

For an idle moment, he wondered what tales the boy carried within him, and if he would ever have the joy of hearing them.

The heart had stopped again. The small body looking paler then his own undead flesh and he couldn't help but feel despair at having lost such a brilliant flame of life.

He had seen countless deaths in his time, yet for this mystery, it caused him such great sorrow.

As if the tale has passed him by, long before it had even truly begun.

Yet… as if the childe wished to prove himself, wished to show him how still there were mysteries for him yet to uncover…

As if to prove that even for the undead, there existed such a thing as miracles.

Did his bright emerald eyes open once more.

He had stood still then, in shock and disbelief; the nurses and staff not faring any better as they tried to understand this impossibility.

Then… he had screamed.

And oh had Carlisle wished he could cry.

Pain.

Sorrow.

Anguish.

Despair.

Over and over did the emotions fill him until he felt as if he was choking on the very air he did not need to breathe from, as if he was dying from the sorrow and screams that seemed to never end. The haunted sound piercing through him over and over as he stood by helpless to stop them, to bring the childe any form of relief from its constant suffering.

It was then, as if by a stray thought alone he thought to look at the machines that they had plugged into the small and delicate body. For an odd moment he thought to look upon the information the machines were furiously cataloguing on their unknown patient. The other's watched on helplessly and in a state of panic as the young boy seemed to arch off the hospital bed from the pain he was in, they fruitlessly tried to hold him down so that he caused himself no harm.

Yet Carlisle.

Carlisle looked elsewhere.

For his eyes… were locked on something that could only be called a miracle.

As he had done for so many years, as he had searched the world over a hundred times for a reason, for an answer, for anything to explain his existence by.

So were his silent pleas finally heard.

Death had come calling for the child twice, yet could not hold him, could not wrap him in its bitter embrace, its dark and silent cloak could not touch him nor lay any claim upon him.

He looked at the machines as they showed the poison slowly draining out of the young boy's body, he saw as death seemed to float away from the impossible child.

And he smiled.

Quickly, with hands skilled a hundred times over from tasks done centuries before, did he stop the machine, did he hide away the truth.

Something which should never happen, something which can never be.

A gift, a mystery, a question long since gone unanswered.

He smiled as he turned and looked at the impossible child, and instinctively knew.

After living where time was but a word, now….

Time would soon stop for him.

And then… it would start again.

And this time, Carlisle would welcome it.

A/N: It seems like I'm only giving a small taste of the vampires as each chapter goes on. I apologize if this drives anyone batty. I would also like to take this time to mention a few things.

This is not a Carlisle/Harry story; he's just fascinated by the mystery presented to him.

Also I looked up a few things about Carlisle from his time as a human, and it's said that he's Angelican…

Unfortunately that's as much as I know about that religion, so if they do not follow the commandments then forgive me for that grave error.

I also with to thank you all again for your lovely reviews! Each one means so much to me and allows me a smile whenever I come across them.

Also, I just wish to say I adored the long reviews I received, so never be afraid to write as much as you want should the story inspire such an action.

Thank you again and I truly hope everyone continues to enjoy this tale and read on.

Thank you.

Till next time.