Disclaimer: Everything and anything related to the Twilight saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.
A/n: So this was a request made by cevuplay. The wench, (ha-ha-she's gonna love reading that) told me to write a story no longer than 1,400 words, (why 1,400 I don't know, but I digress), based on my interpretation on the verse found below using Rosalie and Edward. In this story, they are not together!
The dialogue comes straight from Chapter 7- Unhappy Ending, Page 161 of Eclipse.
Another Heart Calls
Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. Matthew 5:7
For late April, it was an unusually cold and windy night in Rochester, New York. The sky was gray, almost white, making it appear as if it could still be day, but everyone knew better; it just meant snow was on its way. Even though spring was slowly forthcoming, winter seemed to be lingering, not ready to leave just yet.
It was the kind of night that one stayed inside and sat by the fireplace, far too frigid to be taking a stroll outside. The wind was fierce, blowing any stray garbage around. It almost looked like it was dancing in the wind. The wind felt like tiny blades skidding across your face, but regardless of all this Dr. Carlisle Cullen was walking home from his shift at the local medical center. However, Carlisle Cullen wasn't just anybody; he was no ordinary man. He walked freely through the streets, the cold not bothering him at all, and the slick sidewalks were no match for his graceful strides. All perfectly normal for his kind.
It had started to snow as he approached his home, only a few streets away, but sharply he froze in his spot, under the dim lights of the street lamps. Off in the distance, he heard a blood curdling scream and suddenly he smelled the familiar tangy sweetness. It seemed that the wind was carrying her smell right to him.
Carlisle went to investigate, following the smell a few blocks over, and that's where he found her, Rosalie Lillian Hale. She was by far one of the most beautiful women that Carlisle had ever laid eyes on, and even as she lay on the ground, writhing in pain on the snow covered sidewalk, her blood everywhere, she was still painfully gorgeous to look at.
He examined her quickly, trying to do all that he could to possibly save her, but all his efforts were in vain; she was already dying. He did the only thing he could do. He didn't even blink before picking her up off the cold ground, as if she weighed less than a feather, and he ran to his house.
Once inside, the house, Carlisle carried Rosalie to a brightly lit room and set her down gently on the bed. She was in excruciating pain, but he could tell it was beginning to subside. She was slowly starting to lose consciousness. Carlisle knew what he had to do, as much as it would not only hurt Rosalie, it was hurt him as well. He latched his mouth to her throat, mentally preparing himself for the electric rush of her blood, and sank his teeth deep, letting the venom seep into her blood stream, repeating the process along her wrists and ankles.
Again, he heard her let out a cry of pain, sobbing desperately for salvation as the venom began making its course through her body. She begged him to kill her, over and over again, but still he just sat there, holding her hand, as she held on for dear life, fruitlessly. Her life was ending, there was nothing she could do about it.
Of course, her presence was met with much scorn from Edward. When he had arrived from hunting with Esme, he walked into the room upon hearing the sounds of a woman screaming. He was greeted with the surprise of a bloodied and beaten Rosalie. Her face was bruised, and she had blood seeping from different cuts, though slowly before his eyes he could see them disappearing. Her hair was stained pink from her blood, but regardless of her obvious pain, Edward had been furious, irritated, and scolded Carlisle for even considering changing Rosalie. Even more furious, knowing that the transformation was already taking place, the venom already stirring in her body.
"What were you thinking, Carlisle?" Edward said. "Rosalie Hale?"
Carlisle glanced up at Edward from his seat, staring right into his eyes, his hand still gripping Rosalie's tightly.
"I couldn't just let her die," he said quietly, sincerely, full of compassion, his head tilted back down to stare at his hand intertwined with hers. "It was too much--- too horrible, too much waste."
"I know," Edward said, watching the scene through Carlisle's eyes. It was cruel, absolutely vile.
It wasn't the first time that he had seen this from Carlisle. His compassion. He exuded unbelievably kindness to all that he encountered. He never stopped to think about all the wrong a person had done before that moment. He was always willing to help them. It didn't matter what the person had done, because they needed help and that was what mattered. It was the only important thing.
Years later, when he sat alone in the meadow, long before meeting Bella, Edward reminisced about that night, truly understanding why Carlisle had changed Rosalie. Yes, Rosalie Hale had exuded everything Edward found despicable of woman of that time. All they cared about were frivolous things and their vanity, but that night, Rosalie Hale was just another helpless, innocent victim that needed help.
It was then that he finally understood why it had to happen.
It was the right thing to do.