II

Of all that had happened in the last few days, Carlisle was most surprised by the reaction of Edward. He had acted as Carlisle had expected in the first two days, but something had triggered a change in him.

Several hours after his initial return, he revealed to Carlisle that he had travelled to the hospital shortly after he had left, and informed them that Carlisle was on bed rest, plagued with a case of the measles. Carlisle was surprised that he hadn't noticed the car parked in its normal position to the side of the house under the shade of an aged oak, but Edward had driven it home.

Any qualms about Edward's acceptance of Esme's arrival disappeared, when, on his own accord, Edward announced that he was going shopping for women's clothing.

"She can't wear our clothes all of the time," Edward had stood up from where they sat together on the coffee table. Carlisle looked up at him inquisitively, silently prompting him elaborate. Edward simply shrugged. "Women- well, at least my mother did- like clothes,"

Carlisle half smiled. Thank-you. He watched as Edward left, refusing Carlisle offer of money with a simply shake of the head.

Carlisle wondered how he had been so oblivious on two different grounds. Firstly, he had underestimated Edward. He may have been young, but he was well-mannered and much calmer than he had been in the previous two years. Secondly, he had failed to realize how much Esme's arrival would change the dynamic in the house between Carlisle and Edward. The more Carlisle watched Esme, the harder the realization struck him that she was different to Edward and himself.

She lay motionless now, as if she could have been sleeping. Carlisle had rested her hands at either side of her torso and she hadn't resisted. She was so inherently feminine that Carlisle found himself almost incoherent under her oblivious spell casting. Her features were soft, and her hair fell in subtle curls to just above her elbows. It was upon these simplistic observations that Carlisle realized he had little experience of women of their kind. He had met nomadic vampires, and those in the Volturi, but realized he knew very little about them at all. He felt threatened to an extend as a result of the unconscious women that lay across from him.

Everything about her reminded him of this. The silhouette of her breasts underneath the loose cotton of his shirt and her wide hips. Her thoughts of children - oh, her thoughts!

How hadn't he noticed the signs of recent pregnancy on her body? There had to have been a child. If she was here, and he had found her in such a state in the morgue, then he couldn't stop his mind from screaming at him that he had orphaned a child. He had left an infant motherless as he had been as a human. Esme wouldn't have, he concluded. She wouldn't have taken her life when another had depended on her so closely. He knew very little in retrospective from their meeting in 1911, but one thing that he was certain of, was that Esme's soul was one of love and kindness.

Even knowing that he had not left the newborn orphaned, Carlisle felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. Esme had committed suicide, there was no escaping that, and he could be sure that whatever had led her to suicide would remain in her new life, no matter how much he wished it wouldn't. It now seemed glaringly obvious to Carlisle that she wanted to join her son, and her late husband, in Heaven. He had cruelly denied her this in a rash and selfish decision.

"I'm sorry," Carlisle sighed. There was little he could do but apologise to Esme. He continued to do so, laying his hand on top of hers. He couldn't take her hand in his now, it felt wrong. An action as forward as that felt awful in respect to his recent discovery. Carlisle could have sworn the corners of her lips shifted slightly upwards, but he couldn't fathom why at all. He hoped it was because she had heard his apologies, and accepted them with open arms. Carlisle knew there was no way of being certain.

Carlisle continued going around and around in circles of thought, as he once again waited for Edward to return for his own selfish use of Edward's ability. Carlisle kept trying to convince himself that Esme might forgive him, but as he sat in silence with her, he knew that was a ridiculous line of thought. He had taken her literal dying wish away from her, and denied her from entering Heaven alongside her child. There was no worse crime he could have commit.

He was now fully aware of Edward approaching the house, this time with two packages in his arms, each tied with string. He placed them at the side of the door as he entered, and walked to where Carlisle sat, looking down at both of them.

Carlisle didn't look up, instead blankly watching over Esme. "She had a baby,"

"I know," Edward replied, "I think he died," he added, somewhat reluctantly.

Carlisle wrung his hands together, feeling rather interrogated underneath Edward's watched, although still unsure of how the younger man felt about the situation. Finally, he came to a conclusion. The conclusion was remarkably not complex considering the detailed internal argument he had been having with himself over the last couple of hours. "She will not be happy,"

Perhaps that was what upset Carlisle the most. It was a well-established fact in his mind that the last ten years had not been happy for her, but he had doomed her to possibly even more sorrow for the rest of eternity.

"I don't know," Edward said, uncharacteristic in his uncertainty.

Carlisle looked up at him in confusion, his expression willing him to give an explanation.

Edward shrugged. "Her mind is very clear now, but she isn't particularly feeling anything. More than anything, Esme wants to know where she is. Her senses have refined now. I think she'll wake up soon." He looked around, as if unsure of his position. His eyes finally settled back on the packages next to the door. "I'll take those upstairs."

Carlisle nodded, and listened to Edward's footfalls on the stairs as he walked away. He was left alone with Esme with a sudden sense of unease at the thought of Esme's impending reaction. This crept up on Carlisle much faster than he would have wanted, as her heart beat in a way that it might have been about to bound out of her chest, running wildly and taking any sense of control over the situation that Carlisle had.

"Edward," he called out, still unused to speaking out loud to Edward, although they had both recognised that they would need to stop their practice of seemingly one-sided conversation now Esme would be living with them. Carlisle was surprised to find his voice shaking slightly, but he didn't need to explain any more, as neither of them needed Edward's gift to know what was about to happen.

Esme's heart came to a stop abruptly, after a long uphill struggle. She lay still though. Her heart had stopped, she took her first breath, deep and grasping. Carlisle watched her in strange curiosity as she inhaled, taking in the masses of scents around her. She took in the leather of the newly cleaned sofa, the old books of Carlisle's on the shelf, the forest outside. Her eyes opened slowly, revealing the bright red of her irises.

Carlisle was aware of Edward behind him, standing in the shadow of the bookcase, visible to Esme but far. He allowed Carlisle to take the lead, not wanting to startle Esme, but unsure of how she would react, not knowing whether she would fight against them.

"Esme?" Carlisle asked simply as he approached.

At the sound of his voice, one that she remembered so well, Esme sat up suddenly, swinging her legs around so that she was in a normal sitting position. An expression of shock passed over her face briefly at the discovery of her new found speed and strength.

Carlisle looked on in mixed shock and surprise as, despite confusion evident across her face, she smiled. A somewhat bemused smile, as her mind raced over the questions that Carlisle guessed were brewing inside of her head.

"Doctor Cullen?" she responded finally, her eyes fixed only on Carlisle. They were a shocking red, but somehow, she looked gentle, the exact opposite of how any newborn Carlisle had seen looked. In that moment, when she sat in front of him looking at him with wide eyes, Carlisle realized he hadn't put a single thought into what he would say to Esme when she finally woke up, especially considering how different she was to Edward.

"Esme, I'm sorry," he finally said, after a couple of moments silence. "I had to save your life."

"How did you do it?" She asked him. Carlisle could practically hear the tentativeness creeping into her voice. Carlisle could see that she understood that this was beyond the works of any normal doctor. There was no easy way to tell her this.

He held his hands together over his middle and took a tentative step forwards, watching her intently for any sign of fear. He saw nothing, so took another step forwards, and another, and another, until he was sitting beside her, perched on the side of the sofa. He wanted to take her hand like he had during her transformation, but he knew he couldn't. "This is Edward," he gestured to Edward, who had taken a couple of steps forwards as well until he was in full view. Carlisle was well aware that he was prolonging the most important thing. He looked to Edward, looking for guidance, but he simply shook his head.

"What's wrong?" Esme said, having noticed Carlisle's reluctance. Her eyes flitted from Carlisle to Edward, and back again, in quick succession.

"Nothing is wrong," Carlisle reassured her. "In order to save your life, I had to transform you into one of us. Edward, myself and now you, we are vampires." He prepared himself for her reaction, although he had no clue as to what this would be.

She didn't say anything. Both of them watched each other silently, as Carlisle unsuccessfully tried to predict her next action. "Doctor Cullen, I don't think this is funny," she said quietly, still watching him with concern evident on her face. Carlisle knew this would never be an easy conversation.

Edward had now moved to behind the sofa where they both sat. He shook his head, looking at Esme. "No, he's telling the truth. It is bizarre, I know," Esme's gaze snapped up to Edward as he spoke, but Carlisle couldn't help but notice that she was leaning away from both of them. He didn't blame her considering how strange the situation honestly was.

"Edward," Carlisle hissed quietly, hoping that he would listen to him and not scare her with his abilities. He did, as Carlisle realised both sets of eyes were now on him. He watched Esme carefully, trying to judge her state of mind from her actions. She still watched him, although patiently, not as he would have accepted a newborn to act, like a cat waiting to pounce.

She didn't though. All of a sudden, her expression changed to one of apparent shock. "My baby," she whispered, but then her voice grew more frantic. "What about my son? He was so tiny, and so pure-" Carlisle could see Esme begin to crumple before his own eyes.

"I'm sorry," He said, not quite knowing what to say. All he could do was repeat his apology, and watch as her exterior crumbled. If she were human, she would have been crying, he could see that. "He was too young, Esme, I couldn't have saved him in the way that I did for you. He was too young, it would have been unfair to leave him trapped as a baby. I'm sorry,"

She wasn't looking at him, instead tracing the patterns of the sofa with one elegant index finger. She remained attentive, though; he knew she was listening intently. "Of course you couldn't have," she murmured, still not looking up at either Carlisle or Edward.

She suddenly looked much less like the powerful newborn vampire that she was, much smaller, with her arms held close to her and her knees pressed against her chest, her eyes somewhat vacant. "I want you to know, Esme, that I would have done everything I could to return him to you if I could. I regret taking you away from him." He wondered if she would catch the hidden message in his words, that he thought himself selfish for thwarting her suicide attempt.

The way in which she looked up and met his eyes confirmed this loosely. "No, thank-you. I'll miss him more than any words can express, and I'll continue to," she paused for a second, and the sadness that lay under her red irises stabbed him like tiny needles. "But thank-you," she repeated.

"You don't need to thank me, Esme," As he said this, he noticed her bring one hand up to rub at the base of her throat, and he could have cursed himself for his negligence. "We are rather different to the traditional vampire of folk law," he said, hoping that fact would act as some relief, as pathetic as it may have been. "We do drink blood, but try to abstain from human blood, and drink animal blood instead," Carlisle explained, before quickly adding "You don't have to stay with us forever and live by our diet, but you are very welcome to."

"I don't want to kill anyone, Doctor Cullen," Esme retorted without a moment of thought. Carlisle should have known she would say that.

"Esme, call me Carlisle," he said as his the corners of his lips lifted in what he hoped she would interpret as a friendly gesture. He wondered if his smile visually grew when she returned with a small, barely even there, smile of her own. "You're throat must be burning, for a while your thirst will be a lot greater than mine or Edward's. We should take you hunting now,"

"Hunting?" she said in disbelief.

"I'll help you, and Edward will as well," Carlisle said, turning to Edward. As Esme followed Carlisle's gaze, Edward nodded reassuringly at her, confirming what Carlisle had said. He stood from where he had sat next to Esme and without thinking, offered his hand to her. Esme remained seated, looking at Edward, and then Carlisle and then his hand, processing what he had just told her. After a moment, she placed her hand in his, and Carlisle couldn't help but close his fingers around it as she stood up, and allowed him to walk her to the door. She could have easily pulled her hand" away with her superior strength, but apparently she hadn't realized just how strong she was, so Carlisle continued to guide her as he small hand lay limply in his larger one. Edward followed only a couple of steps behind.

Esme willingly let Carlisle lead her outside into the grassy, small clearing outside of their house. There, he let go of her hand, half expecting her to run, but she didn't. She stayed rooted to the spot, watching him as if for instruction. "Carlisle, you have no weapons," she said, looking down at his empty hands.

Before Carlisle had a change to answer, Edward interrupted her. "We have much more efficient methods of our own," Esme turned her head to look at him, confused.

"You'll see," Carlisle promised as he looked between the two of them. Edward looked back at him, a small grin on his face, and nodded, taking his cue. Edward took off at a run, still much faster than Carlisle despite being well out of his newborn year. As always, he ran effortlessly, moving from side to side to dodge the densely packed trees. Esme watched on, mouth slightly agape.

"You will probably be faster than him," Carlisle said, as he chuckled. "What can you smell?"

She looked at him cautiously at first, but he silently prompted her, looking in the direction in which Edward had ran. She followed his gaze, and stopped for a second, fully taking in the scent.

"It smells like animals," she said hesitantly.

Carlisle nodded, trying to encourage her. "Deer," he confirmed and nodded in the direction in which the herd was heading.

She hesitated. "I couldn't kill one,"

"It's the kinder path, Esme," he reminded her. "I'll be right there. Go on, beat Edward at his own game," Carlisle tried to lighten the mood, but he could see that Esme was much more gentle than any other newborn he had met. He hoped she would overcome some of it, but by no means did he want her to become any less loving.

"You will be there as well?" She questioned again.

"Every step of the way,"

Her lips formed a small smile, and with surprising immediacy, she stepped into a run. Slowly, at first; Carlisle could easily keep pace with her. As she covered more distance, she grew faster until all Carlisle could see was her back from a distance. The billowing fabric of his shirt caught in the wind, pressing against her body, and the soles of her bare feet grew dark with soil from the forest floor, her hair that hang loose flew and fluttered like ribbons.

She was soon out of sight, but Carlisle knew where she was from the sound of her footfalls on the soil, inexperienced in the intricate details of hunting, lacking in stealth. He could hear when she approached a second set of footfalls, overtaking Edward. He could hear Edward speeding up, hot on her heals, but not overtaking her. Carlisle heard them both stop, pushing himself to meet them faster .

They had stopped a hundred yards or so away from the small herd of dear, watching undetected from the shadow of a large rock formation. Carlisle slowed to a walk as he approached, only catching brief snippets of the one-sided conversation between Edward and Esme; Edward told her to approach quietly, and slowly, and to avoid the direction of the wind, as they would smell her as a predator. Esme looked past Edward, her eyes locked on the resting deer.

"I can't kill them," she announced again with determination. Edward turned to Carlisle, waiting for his response. Go on,Edward. He prompted Edward. "Esme, watch us,"

Edward approached from behind, and Carlisle stayed close behind, aware of Esme's state burning into his back. When they were merely meters away, the first buck's ears pricked up, and Edward lunged, he ran behind the herd, enjoying the chase as he always did. Carlisle stayed back, stealthily snapping the neck of one of the last to move from their resting spot, and discarded it as his feet. He repeated this with two of the slowest at the back of the herd, before stopping and leaving Edward to his hunt.

He carried two of the three deer to Esme, who still stood watching him. Carlisle was careful to hold them almost too tightly, the force of his grasp tearing their skin and spilling the smallest amount of blood. It was minute, but he knew she would smell it, and he hoped that it would quench her thirst. She watched him cautiously as he approached her, one over each shoulder, and continued to until he dropped them both at her feet.

Carlisle pitied her in her reluctance, but could see that she was beginning to falter in her determination not to drink. The animal was much less appetising to the pallet, but thirst was evident across her features. "It's the only way," he whispered.

She didn't need another prompt, and in a sudden and unexpected movement, Esme lunged forwards, her newly enhanced teeth buried themselves into the neck of the deer, and Carlisle took the chance to drink himself, having been expectedly thirsty not having hunted in the days after biting Esme. Normally it wouldn't have taken him long to drain the buck, but in this instance he was distracted.

Carlisle repeatedly glanced up at Esme, unable to tear himself away from the sight of her for too long of a period of time. There was a strange sense of otherworldly grace in the way that she moved, even for a vampire. She turned from one deer to the other slowly, still finding her footing in her new body, unaware of Carlisle's prying eyes.

There was a small itch at the back of his throat, and he knew his eyes were darker than normal, but he didn't want to hunt anymore. He finished at the same time as Esme, and looked up to see her standing with the deer still at her feet. She didn't look at him even when he approached her. Esme was fixated with her outstretched hands, covered in the blood of her prey. She examined them in horror, turning them over and over as if she was waiting for the blood to disappear as quickly as it had appeared.

"Esme" He said quietly, not wanting to pull her abruptly from her trance.

Her eyes rose quickly to meet his and she self-consciously wiped her bloodied hands on the trousers she wore, creating new stains to match the ones that had travelled down the front of her shirt, or the smear of red on her cheek.

"Do you need to hunt anymore? I'm sure-"

She cut him off with a shake of the head. "I'm fine," she said, although her voice quavered ever so slightly. She shook her head again, more vigorously, as if she was trying to rid herself of some intrusive thought. "I'm sorry, it's just-"

"Strange?" Carlisle guessed, with a knowing smile.

She nodded this time, returning his smile. "I think that may be a slight understatement,"

"It gets easier," Carlisle said, but he wasn't sure how convincing he truly sounded. "Here," he said, quickly changing the topic, "We need to hide them," he gestured to the three drained deer.

Carlisle wordlessly led Esme to one of the smallest, most inconspicuous, trees in the clearing, gathering the three deer into a pile at the foot of the said tree. Knowing that Esme was watching his every move closely from behind, he wrapped both arms easily around the trunk and lifted it from the soil, until the long established roots were free from the ground, and he was able to drop the tree onto its side next to them.

"How did you do that?" he heard Esme say in amazement from behind. Carlisle turned to pick up the three corpses in one armful, ready to drop them in the unknown cavern that had previously lay undisturbed underneath the tree.

"I dare say you will be much stronger than me for the next year, at least," he reminded her over his shoulder as he dropped them into the earth and replaced the tree, brushing the soil back into place with his foot in order to disguise the recent disturbance. "I should teach you about our way of life thought, first," Carlisle turned back to her, nodding in the direction they had just come and beginning to walk.

"Shouldn't we wait for Edward?" she hesitated, turning to look aimlessly in the direction in which he had disappeared. She turned her gaze back to Carlisle, raising an eyebrow as he shook his head in response.

"He will come back when he has finished his hunt," Carlisle said. "For now, I think I should tell you a little more of our kind," He placed an hand on the back of her upper arm from his position behind her, but pretended not to notice when she flinched, jerking her arm away and holding it protectively against her chest. Carlisle couldn't help but notice a look of embarrassment as she looked down at the forest floor, but he pushed this to the back of his mind. It wasn't his place to pry, he thought, but he so wished that he could know what had happened in her life to drive her to suicide. He wasn't to know until she told him herself, if she was to ever tell him, he was well aware.

The incident appeared quickly forgotten, although Carlisle wondered how much of a facade there truly was on Esme's part, as they ran in silence. Without any prompt, Esme slowed her pace until it matched that of Carlisle's. Even without a sound between them he was well aware of her closeness; the brush of fabric against him, even the skin of her arm scraping his own. He fought against the urge to watch her as she ran, as he had done before.

It didn't take them long to return to the small house. Carlisle hadn't wanted to stray far to hunt, not only for ease, but also encase a human happened to wander too close through the forest. It was a rare event, but Carlisle was wary of growing complacent.

He led her through the door, left open in their rush to hunt. This time, however, she watched more carefully as he led her though the living room, to the sofa once again. It was a bland room, and he wondered if she was used to a much higher level of grandeur. There weren't any paintings on the walls, and the furniture was not particularly elaborate. There was, however, a mirror propped against the mantle.

"A mirror?" She questioned, pointing to it.

Carlisle chuckled. "Yes, despite popular belief, we do have reflections."

Esme didn't look at him as he spoke, but slowly walked to the mirror. Carlisle wondered how she would react to her new features, but when she did lay her eyes on them, he scolded herself for not warning her in advance.

She let out a strangled gasp, her hand immediately being drawn to her cheek. "My eyes," she whispered, horrified. "Why are they red? They don't look like yours." she added quietly, shock evident in everything, her expression, frozen in the mirror, and her voice.

Carlisle knew he should have warned her, he should have known how she would have reacted. "They'll change, Esme, I promise," he said, his tone practically pleading with her to listen to him. She had turned away from the mirror, but avoided looking at him, instead examining the floorboards at her feet. "If you carry on with our diet, they'll change in a couple of months of look the same as mine and Edward's,"

"I look like a monster," she said before pressing a shaking hand to her mouth. That statement his Carlisle the hardest, and he felt a whole fresh wave of pity for her, for this life that he had given her. He wondered if she would resent him in the same way that Edward had, despite her practically accepting earlier reaction. He approached her slowly this time, making sure that she saw him, before taking her hand in his and leading her back to the sofa.

"You're not a monster, Esme. I will make sure that you are not, if that is what you want," he said as they both sat on the sofa in almost exactly the same positions as they had earlier before the brief hunt. "The Volturi, in Italy, make sure nothing gets too out of hand, and that we can live undetected by humans, but they don't follow the same lifestyle as us.,"

"I want you to help me, Carlisle, please." she admitted without a second doubt, almost desperate.

"Then I promise I will." he responded without any doubt of his own.

A/N: Thank you for the response on this chapter in the form of reviews, alerts and favourites, all is very much appreciated. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please don't hesitate to let me know what you think!