My Son

"Carlisle, Bella is alive."

My body froze in shock at Esme's words, bringing my grief to a sudden halt. "She's not dead?" I asked slowly, scrutinizing my mate's face. If Bella wasn't dead, then what was that pain in her face? That haunted look in her eyes? There had to be something more. I had heard shouting a few minutes ago…

I got up from the desk and approached her slowly. Her hands were shaking. I tried, with little success, to keep the urgency out of my voice: "Esme, what's wrong?" She collapsed on me then, gasps shaking her frame as she tried to make me understand. "Phone call," she sobbed. "Rosalie. Can't believe—Alice had vision, Bella—Edward!" If I were human, my heart would have stopped.

Edward.

"Talk to me, Esme," I said frantically, taking her shoulders. "You must tell me." "Edward," she tried again, touching my face to calm herself. "Italy. He wants to be killed, Carlisle. He wants them to kill him...He doesn't know!"

I worried at my lower lip, trying to remain calm. Italy. What was Italy, again? The logical part of my mind took over: Italy was a country in Europe. But what was in Italy? Immediately memories flooded my mind.

Rome.

Venice.

Volterra.

Oh, no.

"The Volturi!" I burst out. Esme's soothing hand on my face reminded me to stay calm. "What did Alice say? Tell me," I pleaded, stroking her hair. For a moment, we held each other.

"She didn't talk to me, it was Rose," Esme said desperately. "Rose—she told him!" "What?" I asked immediately. I was trying to sort through this muddle, but the pain in my chest was building considerably, and that made it hard to concentrate.

"She told Edward that Bella had jumped off a cliff," Esme explained, an unfamiliar outrage in her voice. "Alice called for you but we were hunting so she talked to Rose…and now Edward—suicide mission. Emmett and Rosalie are going after him, they just left—Jasper…"

I put a finger up to stop her. "Alice, I need to talk to Alice. Or Bella. If Edward sees Emmett and Rosalie—" Esme nodded. "I know, he'll do something rash." She was still stroking my face.

I took her hand from my face and held it in mine, squeezing it slightly. I could see the sorrow she tried to hide. "Esme, it's going to be alright," I told her, but I could hear a lie in my voice. Of course she could hear it, too, and she crumpled. "Edward," she murmured. "Please, please not Edward."

I exhaled sharply. I wasn't going to break down. I was going to be strong for my family.

But what would my family be without Edward?

We had already gotten a taste of that now. Invisible lines had been drawn, separating my family into pairs: Carlisle and Esme, Emmett and Rosalie, Alice and Jasper. Three separate families that seldom interacted with each other.

Would it always be like this from now on?

"I'll be back in a minute, darling," I whispered in her ear. "I have to talk to Jasper."

I left the study and followed Jasper's scent into the kitchen. My son was hunched over the counter, talking on his phone. From the passion in his voice, I knew there was only one person he could be speaking with.

"Are you sure, Alice?" he said in a rush. "I could come. I want to come." I didn't listen for Alice's reply out of courtesy, but I could tell from Jasper's worried face that the response was a negative. "Please be careful Alice," he begged. At her answer, he sighed. "I love you, too, Alice. Be safe."

There was a small click as he flipped the phone shut.

He turned, apparently having caught my scent from beside him. Obviously he had been too immersed in his phone call to hear my arrival. "Carlisle," he breathed. I put a hand on his shoulder. "Tell me what is happening," I said with authority.

Jasper grimaced. "Alice and Bella are on their way to Volterra. They're going to try to stop him. Now I have to call Emmett and Rosalie off the chase." He was clearly pained and worried, but he must have felt my panic because a wave of calm washed over me. "Thank you," I sighed gratefully. I added, "Best get it over with now." Jasper smiled sheepily and picked up the phone once more. He looked at it grimly, and dialed.

Instead of going back to Esme, I stepped outside into the cold to have a minute to myself and my feelings. As I ran through the snow, I thought.

How could he do this? I wondered. How could he give up on life—his family—me? Edward and I had always been a team. He supported most of my decisions, and I backed him up in most of the arguments. We understood eachother, to an extent.

But I realized why none of this mattered: in his mind, Isabella Swan had left him forever.

As always, I could partially understand how he felt. If Esme died, if she stopped loving me…all of the goodness in the world would disappear. I would stay for the children, but in a very real way, I would die. I knew Edward loved Bella just as much as I loved Esme. It was reasonable for him to want the pain to stop, for the emptiness to fade away, to finally feel release. If only he knew.

If only you knew she was alive, my son.

I stopped at the top of a hill, to sit down in the snow. The cold didn't affect me at all, but a chill ran down my spine. Guilt was overpowering my sadness, and it didn't feel any better.

Why had I let him go off on his own? I had thought that he needed the time to himself, to make himself stronger. Then he would return to the family, and either he would go back to Forks to beg Bella's forgiveness, or he would accept his own decision and live with it.

I should have been there for you, Edward. I'm your father! I should have helped you.

How could I have expected him to deal with the pain by himself? I had thought he was a vampire, too strong to be overcome and too wise to run. But in thinking this, I had been too foolish to remember how much he loved Bella still, to know that his heart undoubtedly lay back in Forks with her. Why did I let him leave her? Edward was too good to be so selfless. He thought he was a monster, but he wasn't. He didn't deserve what I had let him inflict upon himself.

You think I'm wise, Edward, but I am more foolish than you are.

I remembered when Edward had been a new vampire, full of bloodlust and questions. "So you call what we have lives?" Edward asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Hardly." We were hunting, and as we ran, he was challenging my beliefs about vampires again. I looked into his crimson eyes, seeing both pain and defiance. "I do think we have lives," I told him quietly. "Because even though we never age, vampires are able to die." Edward's handsome features were pulled into concentration as he thought of something. What would I give right then, to have his gift? He said suddenly, "How? Tell me how."
I drew back from him in discomfort. Part of me didn't want to tell him, but I knew he would draw it from me mentally if I didn't. "As far as I know, only vampires can kill other vampires." I added mentally, And only if you burn up the pieces. Edward nodded in satisfaction, pondering what he had learned.

As I looked back on that, I wondered if all this would have happened if I had kept the truth from him. It wouldn't change anything, I thought desperately. Edward could always figure out when I was hiding something from him.

The guilt faded slightly, replaced by a shock of pain as I finally fully considered that Edward would no be coming home. Not able to contain myself any longer, I bowed my head and wept, wishing there were tears in me to shed, anything to channel out the pain inside me.

Why Edward? Edward, the one who had understood me. Edward, my first son.

My son.

I repeated the words quietly, over and over to myself. My son, my son. I wondered how each member of the family would react, should Alice and Bella's mission fail.

Esme: Heartbreak. She would weep at first, and then become silent.

Jasper: He would try to be strong. He would keep us calm, but talk only to Alice.

Alice: She would disappear inside herself. She would be sad, never sharing her visions.

Rosalie: She would drown in her own guilt and become bitter. She would leave us.

Emmett: He would stop teasing anyone, stop being cheerful. He would follow Rose.

And then me. I would watch Rose and Emmett leave in silence. After grieving for them, I would try to be a father to Alice and Jasper, and a husband to Esme. But I would never feel the same joy in life again. Eventually, I would regret my existence. Edward always thought he was the odd man out, but he kept his family together.

My son.

Suddenly, as I was crying, I heard—and smelled—someone behind me.

It was Rose.

I turned around to face her. She probably had heard my sobs, but otherwise there was no evidence to suggest that I had been upset at all. As I looked at her, at her guilt and her sorrow, my heart was heavy, leaden, in my chest. "My son," I murmured again.

She didn't say anything, she just looked at me. I couldn't bring myself to speak to my daughter. I turned my body to face home, and walked slowly away. She didn't follow.

It was night by now. I went into the study, where Esme still sat. I picked her up, took her to our bedroom, and sat down on the bed next to her. We looked into each other's eyes, and for a moment, I felt the tiniest surge of relief: she understood what I was feeling. She felt the sorrow. After a moment of silence, we collapsed into each other's arms. It was easier to grieve with my mate than it was to grieve alone, and quietly we mourned the loss of our son.

My son.

I didn't know that I was saying the words out loud until Esme looked up at me questioningly. "I'm sorry," I apologized, holding her tightly. "Don't," she said, and we were silent.

The night passed slowly; I wondered how my children were spending it. Were Emmett and Rose fighting? Was Jasper sitting alone in his and Alice's room, staring at the wall? And where were Alice and Bella? Was Edward alive?

Finally, the skies lightened the tiniest bit, signaling morning. I wondered if Tanya and her family would be back from their hunting trip today. "Do you think he'll survive?" Esme asked quietly. I knew what she was thinking about: the unstoppable Volturi guard. "I don't know, Esme," I said honestly. But she saw the hopelessness in my eyes.

By some unspoken consent, we decided that it was time to talk to our children. We changed our clothes, quietly going over what we would discuss with them, especially Rose. Esme got ready before I did, and left the room to find them. I took my time, wondering what Jasper would think when he felt my emotions. He would think I felt empty inside, hollow.

Dead.

When I left my room, I saw everyone assembled in the dining room. It didn't seem as if they had been waiting for me, however: their eyes were all on Jasper, who was dialing a number on his phone. Emmett spoke in my ear, "He's trying to get ahold of Alice again." I watched Jasper's eyes narrow with an uneasy feeling in my stomach. The whole family was unbearably silent, listening as the ring came again and again.

She wasn't going to answer it.

As Alice's ironically happy voice told us to leave a message, and that she would get back to us soon, Jasper shut the phone with another one of those quiet clicks. Jasper looked at the phone for a second, then put his head in his hands. Rosalie moaned and Emmett took her into his arms, his face ashen. I looked around for Esme, but she was gone. I turned around and, with a feeling of pained finality, headed for my study.

As I entered the study and sat down at my desk, I let out a single dry sob. Then I was silent. I didn't know about Bella or Alice, but one thing was now certain:

My son was not coming home.