Somewhere in the countryside of Ohio, USA

Carlisle's POV

After our confrontation with the Volturi, we had pushed our stay in Forks for just over one more year. For the sake of Bella's father. We had left after Charlie had a heart attack and passed away in early 2008. Heartbroken, Bella wanted nothing more than to leave after that, and the rest of us happily obliged, knowing the suspicion and questions were starting to circulate. We picked up and moved to our next location. Every few years when we moved, we alternated who chose our next home. Emmett had chosen Forks, as it had been his turn to pick.

After Forks, it had been Esme's turn. And much to our surprise, she chose her home land of Ohio. At the time of us moving, in 2008, nearly 90 years since I had turned her, she had only gone home twice. Once when her younger sister, her last living family member, passed away. And the other to visit her child's grave nearly a decade after his death. Other than those isolated times, she tended to avoid Ohio. So, it was a real shock to all of us when she wanted to move back. But none of us questioned her and went along with the move.

Everyone stuck together and we moved as a unit. Jacob had come for Renesmee, and his pack followed their Alpha. Seth, Leah, and several of the younger ones who had fazed before the Volturi confrontation. We tended to choose larger farm homes, and Esme would renovate them with enough rooms for everyone. And the land always had plenty of space for the wolves to phase and run around. It was also an added benefit to have a patrol team for the property. Emmett called them our "guard dogs", much to the packs dismay.

Now it was May of 2021. We had spent nearly 13 years bouncing around the countryside of Ohio, living in 4 different homes during our time here. But that time was nearing a close. Soon it would be time to move on again, this time to another country maybe. But not yet. There was one thing we wanted to get past first. Esme specifically. In a matter of days, would mark her 100th year as a vampire. A century she had been immortal. A century since I almost lost her.

The familiar sweet scent of lavender and roses drifted into my office, along with almost silent footsteps. I knew who was there before I even looked up.

Esme stood in the door of my office, leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile on her face. My eyes met hers. I noticed they were quite dark, a deep gold.

"What brings you up here, my love?" I asked her as she stood still in the doorway for a moment, before stepping in and closing the door, even though that wouldn't give much privacy in this house.

"There's something I want to talk to you about," she stated, almost unsure… or was it nervous?

I stood up, walking over to her and taking her hands in mine.

"Did you want to take this somewhere else?" I offered, knowing my mate didn't like having "private" conversations within earshot of the others. She shook her head quickly.

"It's fine. Edward's probably heard me thinking about it, and Alice, well she's the one who said I should talk to you about it," Esme admitted, her eyes trailing to our hands, as she ran one of her up my arms, slightly pushing my sleeve up. That worried me a small amount. When Esme consulted one of the children about when she wanted to talk to me, it usually meant she was unsure or afraid of my response. Though she had no reason to be, as I would not likely deny her anything she wanted. I sat down on the edge of my desk, and Esme gently pulled away from me, as she began to pace the room.

"In two days, Carlisle," she began, and I already knew where this conversation was going. Something to do with her 100th year anniversary. I listened as she continued, "It will be a hundred years that I've been a vampire. And in those hundred years… there's something you've never told me," she said, and turned to face me again, her eyes locking into mine. Me? This had something to do with me?

"I assure you, dear, I've never kept anything from-"

"No. No, its not that Carlisle," she cut me off, holding up a hand and waving it slightly to stop me, "I know you wouldn't, intentionally… I guess it's my fault, that you never told me, because I've never asked," she stated, fidgeting with her fingers, and then toying with her family crest bracelet. I smiled slightly at the action. To see that she never truly abandoned her human habits. She continued pacing slowing.

"So ask," I encouraged her softly. Esme sighed, exhaling, needlessly of course. She turned her face me again, taking a nervous breath. She seemed shaky.

"The night… the night you changed me," she started softly, and then continued after another breath, "You've never told me your side of everything," she stated, and I looked at her with a curious look.

"My side?" I asked, a touch confused. She nodded slightly.

"What you were doing before you found me, and what you did when you did find me… there's days between… when I-" she stopped herself, not being able to say it, and picked up with another sentence, "-and when I woke up," she said, looking me straight in the eyes. I shifted uncomfortably.

"Esme…you know how uncomfortable it makes me to talk about it. To even think about it is hard," I told her, looking down at my lap, and twisting my wedding band on my left hand.

"I know Carlisle… but please, I need to know. I need you to tell me what happened… or show me," she pleaded. I furrowed my brow.

"Show you? I don't understand," I stated.

"Take me there," she said softly, standing in front of me, "To the hospital, the morgue…our old house," she added, touching my cheek softly.

"Is that really what you want?" I asked her, gently touching the hand that touched my cheek, "To relive the past?"

Esme nodded, slowly, but it was surely.

"It's something that's plagued my mind every year since-….I need to know," she sighed. If tears could have started falling, they would have.

"If that's truly what you want, then we'll go. We'll pack tomorrow and leave at midnight if that's ok," I said and kissed her forehead. She sighed, and I stood up, pulling her into a hug. I felt her body relax as the tension flowed out of it from my embrace.

Two days later, in the early afternoon we were in the car, driving along the number 13 highway that headed into Ashland, Wisconsin. We were only a few minutes from turning towards the old hospital were I once worked. I knew from the news and many papers that it had long been abandoned, but the building still stood.

As we neared the hospital, I turned the corner and pulled alongside the curb near the parking lot. It had long since grown full of weeds and there was even a tree beginning to grow out of the pavement. I turned off the car and took the keys out of the ignition, looking over at my wife. Esme had not said a word the entire ride here, and I didn't want to disturb whatever mental preparation she was going through. And I had been doing my own. Being here again, especially to go inside that crumbing old hospital would be hard. The memories, still sharp as ever in my mind, had always haunted my subconscious.

I reached over and touched her hand, snapping her out of her focused state, before the two of us climbed out of the car. Thankfully at 2 in the afternoon, there was a good amount of cloud cover, and we could discreetly make our way inside.

I dropped Esme's hand and reached for the door handle of the main entrance. But it did not budge; exactly as I expected. Of course, the humans would have locked it upon abandonment, in attempt to keep gangs and mischievous children out. I walked around to the side where a window was tucked between two trees that had sprouted up many years ago. Effortlessly, I broke the frail glass and slipped through the now glassless window frame, my mate immediately behind me. She held my hand as we wandered down the hallway, back towards the main door. I stopped in the waiting room near the front and pulled out my phone, turning on the flashlight. Even with superior sense of sight, the many windowless halls would be to dark to navigate efficiently.

The silence that echoed through the empty building was only briefly interrupted every now and then by the sound of the wind blowing occasionally outside. Esme was no longer holding my hand, but instead had walked over to the directional signs near the elevators that explained what wards were on each floor. Then after a long pause, she pushed open an old heavy door to the right of the signs, revealing the stairwell. The elevators obviously didn't work. I doubt there was any power in the entire building. I didn't recall seeing any power lines outside that ran towards it. Then again, I hadn't really been observing such irrelevant things.

I stuck immediately behind my wife, who didn't say a word as she climbed the stairs with a rather quickness to her step. I wasn't entirely sure what her idea was. I thought she wanted to go down to the morgue. Which was in the opposite direction. But I left her to her own devices, and simply followed.

Esme stopped at the third floor and exited the stairwell. She almost seemed to be on a mission to find something in particular, without actually knowing where she was truly going to find it. I watched as her pace slowed to an almost cautious walk. The way a human would wander if they were afraid of missing something they were in search of.

We passed many doors, and she pushed through a large set of double doors. I stopped, looking up and reading the sign of the ward we were in.

Maternity & Delivery

I sighed to myself and followed a touch further behind her. Given that obstetrics had not been my field of practice back in the days of working here, I had never been to this floor before. I curiously glanced around while following Esme, who was about ten feet in front of me.

Suddenly she stopped, turning her attention through and open door, and slowly she approached the dark room, pausing in the doorway. I noticed how still she was, as she stared into what I assumed was probably an empty patient room. I walked up behind her and placed a hand against her shoulder.

"What is it?" I asked, breaking the silence that floated around us. Esme leaned her head against the doorframe, not daring to step beyond its invisible boundary. She exhaled heavily,

"This is the room," she stated softly, "This is room I gave birth in…"

I felt tense, and almost uncomfortable. To be standing in the doorway of the room that my gentle wife had spent her last few happy moments as a human in, well I felt like I was intruding on something that was so intimate and personal to her. Esme drew in a long breath and stepped inside the room. I stayed at the door, afraid my presence in this moment may upset her. I noticed there was still an old hospital bed. A much more modern one than the hospital beds of the 1920's, but still old by todays standards. The 70's perhaps. Esme had her back against the wall, as she stared at the bed before her, as if she was watching her ghost in front of her. I noticed she glanced at her phone, and the time read 2:37. She kept staring at that clock on her phone until it flipped over to 2:38.

Esme's POV

It was like I was in another world. Or ghosts of my past had put on a cruel display before me. I leaned against the wall, feeling the cold paint against my arms, and watched that empty bed. A small, frail, teary eyed human girl sat cross-legged, in a hospital gown, holding a small bundle in her arms. I could almost hear the child wheezing. A sound that forever haunted the back of my mind. The poor child had only been two days old, and he was taken for the world so cruelly. I knew that this was the end as I pulled out my phone and stared at that clock, watching it turn from 2:37 to 2:38. That was the moment he stopped breathing, then he died there in my arms.

I snapped out of my daze, feeling a hand on my shoulder. I had almost forgotten Carlisle had been standing there, I had been so lost in my human memories. I managed to choke out a few words, but couldn't tear my eyes from that empty bed, where a young mother once sat with her baby.

"He died at 2:38. This exact day. A hundred years ago," I said, sadness filling my voice. I felt Carlisle wrap his arms around me in a hug that was so comforting I could feel his compassion radiating from him. I barely had the strength, emotionally, to lift my arms and hold him back, but I did.

"I'm so sorry my love," he mumbled into my hair, before placing a kiss against my forehead. I tried to push the pain form my body enough so I could talk to my husband for even a few minutes.

"Where were you? At this exact moment?" I asked him, burying my face into his shirt and letting his scent calm me. Carlisle sighed.

"The floor below us, in a surgery. A man had fallen from his ladder at home, and had severely cut open his leg," he recited to me as if he had done it yesterday. I tried to bury my face deeper into the fabric, wishing I could produce tears.

"To think we were in such close proximity and never knew," I said, "If you had been my doctor-" I began but he cut me off.

"Would it have changed anything?" he asked, stroking my hair with his one hand.

"It would have given me some comfort to see you again, when I felt so lost, and scared," I told him. Maybe if Carlisle had been here and talked to me, I wouldn't have thrown myself off that cliff. But in turn it led me to him anyway. So, he had a point, would it have changed anything.

"Are you ok, my love?" he asked, as his embrace around me relaxed, and I looked up at him.

"I'll be ok. I'm sorry I brought you up here. It's not at all the reason we came here for… I just had to see it again," I told him. Carlisle nodded and kept one arm around me as we left the maternity ward and descended the stairs back down to the main floor. I held Carlisle's hand as he pulled my down a dark hallway to the far end, and around several corners. We passed by patient rooms, the emergency room and trauma bay, and many other offices. But Carlisle stopped abruptly outside one door that had a glass window that let you see into the room.

"My office, while I was here," he stated, not looking inside the window. I gently brushed the thick layer of dust off the glass with my palm and looked in. The room was empty, with only a large desk in the center of the room. I looked at my husband, who seemed to have a glazed over look in his eyes, as if his own ghosts were haunting him. He had a slightly hunched posture, as he spoke, "I was standing right here, having just come out of my office, and was headed to do my nightly rounds. It was 6:16 in the evening," he began, his eyes meeting mine for only a moment before looking down the hall from where we had just come. "The nurse who had been assigned my assistant came from that direction," he said, pointing further down the hall in which we had to travel.

Carlisle's POV

Suddenly I could see myself standing in front of me, wearing my white lab coat, stethoscope around my neck. Esme stood beside me, looking around, oblivious to what I could clearly see.

"Dr. Cullen, a new body has just been brought in. Young woman. Suspected suicide. Two fishermen found her at the bottom of the cliffs just north east of here," Nurse Hawthorne said as she approached me and handed me a clipboard with the information on it that she had just told me.

I watched myself take the clipboard and nod politely at the nurse, before turning and walking down the hall towards the morgue. My ghost faded into thin air before he could reach the end.

"Carlisle?" Esme's soft voice brought me back to reality. I had clearly zoned out for that minute there, and concerned Esme, but I nodded once at her before turning and walking after my ghost figment. Esme stayed only two feet behind me. We walked to the end of the hall and down a very wide set of steps that ended at a heavy double door with the word "MORGUE" printed boldly in capital letters across them. And in finer print beneath that "Authorized Personnel Only".

I pushed forcefully on the door and it creaked loudly as it swung open, revealing the dark room. It was cold, and the air was stale. I held up my light to illuminate the room, al the stainless steel around us reflected the light and made it much easier to see what surrounded us. The vast room had a table to the left, where embalming and autopsies would take place, and to the right was the body storage and holding. That had obviously been a modern update, as back in the day, in the 20's, bodies were just laid on cots until they were moved elsewhere.

I could picture the old room, before the update, when there were 5 cots along the one wall.

Three beds had bodies in them, all of them covered with a sheet. An elderly man who had passed during the day, before my shift had started. A man in his twenties who was shot this morning in a robbery and his body was awaiting autopsy. And at the far end, I assumed, the woman who had just been brought in.

"That's when I heard a sound," I said, and looked at Esme, her face looking at me curiously.

Thump…. Thump….Thump….

A heartbeat. So silent that even my enhanced hearing could barely detect it. It sounded as if it was coming from one of the bodies in here. I passed the cots and it got louder as I neared the woman under the sheet. Could it be possible that she was alive and could still be saved. I carefully pulled the sheet back that covered her, and I stood there in shock, looking down at the battered woman. Her face was bloodied and bruised and covered in dirt. But I recognised her. The girl with the broken leg I had treated over ten years ago.

Esme Platt.

Esme was not by my side, but instead she had wandered many feet away from me, but our eyes met, and I paced over to the exact spot where her human body once lay.

"It was right here, the cot… you…" I told her, looking at the empty space on the ground and imagining the bed there, "When I pulled back the sheet, I felt like… my world had shifted. You were so broken. So battered. No one would have recognised you," I added, hanging my head, wishing hot tears could fall from my eyes. I felt Esme's hand against touch my cheek. I couldn't bring myself to look up and meet her eyes.

"But you did," her soft, encouraging voice made me smile slightly and open my eyes, my gaze falling to her hair that hung near her neck. The dark brunette color she had dyed it around the time Bella and the others graduated from Forks High School. I carefully grasped a strand between my forefinger and thumb, imagining it as the caramel color I had loved so much on her.

"It was your hair," I said quietly, looking up at her, and tucking her hair over her shoulder, "No one I had every encountered before had hair a color like yours," I admitted to her. If she could have blushed, she would have. My faced drooped to a frown again, "I couldn't bring myself to let you go,". She closed her eyes. Almost having a moment to herself.

Esme. What had happened to her that she would do this? What part of her life was so terrible that she had decided death was the only answer? I could hear her heartbeat growing more faint by the seconds.

"It was a moments decision," I told her, looking to her neck where I had pushed the hair away to reveal the only flaw left behind from the transformation. Her scar. The scar that perfectly aligned where my teeth sunk into her delicate human flesh. I gently grazed my fingers over it gently, and she immediately, involuntarily shivered slightly, "I remember kissing your forehead… it was colder than it should have been… and then I bit you,"

My razor like teeth sunk into her neck, piercing the flesh; it was as soft as butter was to a human; and immediately hot, thick, luscious human blood poured into my mouth, nearly forcing my feeding instincts to take over. But I rejected the thought, forcing the venom into her bloodstream, before running to the sink to spit the blood from my mouth.

"So, what happened?" Esme voice again pulled me from my haunting memory. She was looking up at me, her eyes now searching for answers. This is what she wanted, to know what I had done when she was not conscious.

"I knew I wouldn't have long before the venom would start to spread, and you would start screaming when the pain hit," I told her, and surveyed my surroundings, taking her hand in mine, silently telling her we were soon leaving this place, "I stuffed the paperwork at the end of the bed in my pocket, and scooped you up, slipping out the door as quickly and silently as I could," I told her and pulled her behind me as I pushed through the heavy metal doors and ascended the stairs, leaving that dreaded place of death. Esme followed silently behind me as we left the abandoned building and slipped back into the car. I turned the keys and the engine came to life, and we pulled away rather quickly from the old ruins, heading northeast down the number two, towards where our old house was located out in the country.

As we were just crossing the bridge over the small river on the edge of town, Esme suddenly perked up in her seat, and looked a round quickly before touching my hand that was on the steering wheel.

"Pull over, Carlisle," she said, sternly, quickly, and almost frantically. On the northeast side of the bridge, I pulled the car onto the shoulder of the road, and Esme immediately got out of the car, crossing in front of it. I was out of the car and behind her before she reached the other side of the road. I had no idea what she was doing, but she glanced around, looking for humans, before dashing at vampire speed along the river, that was thankfully lined with thick trees and bushes. I was immediately after her, trying to keep up to her.

"Esme?!" I called, and she glanced partially back at me, but kept running. For several, maybe 20 seconds at top speed before she slowed down to a human-paced jog, and stopped as the trees parted at the end of our path. I caught up to her and stopped beside her, confused as to why she had run all the way out here. I looked forward, toward the vast water that was before us. Lake Superior. To the immediate west, the sun was setting, its edge just beginning to touch to horizon that was the water. Esme slowly walked forward to what I assumed was a drop off, and she stopped, freezing only two feet from the edge. I slowly walked up behind her. She was staring out at the water; her body was tense.

"Why did you bring us out here?" I asked her softly, and she hung her head, closing her eyes. She took a shaky breath,

"This is where I jumped," she said quietly, her voice quivering with anxiety as she wrapped her arms around herself. Without even thinking, I peered over the edge and the realization of how high up we were, hit me. It had to be around, if not more than a 150-foot drop, straight down to the water below. And who knew what horrors lurked beneath the dark waters.

I looked to my mate, who looked both sad, but courageous somehow. She also looked like she would jump again at any moment. Fearful for her mental sanity, I wrapped my arms around her a carefully tried to pull her even a few feet from the edge. But she stood frozen, refusing to move. Suddenly her voice broke the silence.

"A hundred and sixty-two and a half feet," she murmured, "Do you know what it feels like?" she asked. If she was asking me, I was not fully sure, "to fall from that height," she added, and turned to face me. I remained silent, not knowing what the right words were. I had none. No words.

"Esme…" I whispered softly and pulled her into my arms. She accepted my hug and reciprocated it partially. "Come," I told her carefully, trying to pull her away from the ledge again. She didn't fight it this time, as I pulled her over to a nearby tree, and we sat down, leaning against its trunk and watched the sunset.

Esme's POV

Being at that cliff again had brought back so many memories that were fuzzy, even for my vampire memory. Carlisle and Edward had explained to me, in my first few days of this life, that human memories were almost always difficult to remember, and they only faded more with time. I recalled a time around a year after my transformation, when Edward came to me and told me he had written down and drawn every detail of my child from my grieving memory, and that if I ever forgot or needed help remembering, he would give it to me.

I felt Carlisle's arm around me, tighten slightly and I rested my head on his shoulder. The setting sun was hitting our skin, making us both shimmer softly.

I stared out at the water, watching the ripples and waves that the breeze created. But something about the edge of that cliff called to me. Somehow my memory had known the exact spot where it was as we drove down the road, and my body almost knew exactly where to run to. It was like my body was telling me to jump again, to prove I was indestructible to the thing that I was so fragile against as a human. I thought about it for a minute before I pulled away from Carlisle carefully, and stood up. He looked up at me, wondering what I was doing.

I slowly slid my feet out of the hiking boots I was wearing, my socks coming off with them, and I unbuttoned my jacket, letting it slip off my arms. I didn't care if my clothes got wet, because I wasn't about to jump into that water with only my undergarments on. But there was no point in unnecessarily ruining clothing that could be removed. I took off my necklace, crest bracelet, and wedding ring, fearing I would lose them if they fell off, and set them on my clothing.

I noticed Carlisle stand up from his spot.

"What are you doing?" he asked cautiously.

"Jumping," I said, almost nonchalantly, and he grasped my upper arm, quite tightly in fact.

"Why?!" he asked, incredulously. I sighed, prying his grip off my arm.

"I don't know," I admitted, "Maybe it's just calling to me," I told him. He let out a sigh, almost in defeat, like he knew there wasn't going to be any convincing me not to. He started to copy what I had just done, removing his shoes, outer clothing, and his rings. "What are you doing?" I asked him this time. He walked to the ledge and sat down, looking back at me.

"Checking the bottom," he said, and slid off the edge. I rushed forward, peering at him over the ledge as he gripped the rock with his hands, sliding down the rough cliffside. The rock he gripped crumbled gently as he scaled it to the bottom, then disappeared into the water as he reached it. I looked out, searching for him to resurface.

I backed up a bit, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples, attempting to soothe any fear that consumed my mind. Suddenly I heard crumbling rock again, and seconds later, Carlisle propped himself on the edge, holding himself up like a human would on the edge of a pool. His hair was flattened with water against his head, and a few remaining drops of water clung to his face.

"No humans, and only a couple of rocks. Waters about 20 feet deep," he said, puling himself up so he could sit. His clothes were soaked; his dress shirt glued against his body, his hair slowly dripping. I nodded once, in a 'thank you'-like motion. I walked over to him as he stood up, moving a foot or so away from the drop off.

"Wait here for me?" I asked, and he hesitantly nodded. I knew he'd rather be at the bottom than watch me jump from beside him. I peered over the edge one more time, calculating where I want to approximately land, and a human-like as I could I slowly took a several steps back, and closed my eyes again, took a few deep breaths, before I quickly ran forward, and with my eyes already closed, propelled myself off the edge with a pitiful human jump.

My mind screamed silently as I felt the wind rush by me, howling in my ears. My arms loosely outstretched to the side of me. Even my vampire mind had little time to process what I did before my body was engulfed by the icy water. I knew I was sinking under the waves, even with no visual sense of direction.

And then my head smacked violently against something, causing what could have been the vampire equivalent of a concussion. My hand shot to my temple where I could feel the newly formed crack in my skin. I was forced to open my eyes, and search, in my disoriented state, for the surface. I swam upwards, breaking the surface, and hovered in the water for a moment, before swimming to the rocky wall, and started climbing up the side, back to Carlisle, as I tried to ignore the split headache I now had.

Carlisle's POV

I only watched as Esme leaped quite humanly off the ledge, and in fractions of a second, disappeared beyond my view from where I stood. I counted.

One…Two…Three…Fo-

Splash!

I heard her hit the water, and as the splash dissipated, silence again. I listened for the sound of her resurfacing, which came almost 9 seconds after. I heard her swimming, and then her climbing, as she gripped the rocks. I wandered to the edge, hoping to offer her a hand to pull her up. But I reached the ledge, just as she reached the top, and exhaustedly she clung to the edge like I had before, ignoring my outstretched hand, and pulled herself up, collapsing on to the grass.

"That was stupid idea," she mumbled, closing her eyes as I looked down at her. Her entire being was soaked to the core. Her once dry and gently waving hair was now stick straight and matted to her face and neck, a strand of wet hair lay across her eye and cheek. Then she lifted her hand to her head and groaned slightly.

"Esme!" I gasped, kneeling beside her. She opened her eyes and I gently moved her hand away, just now noticing the crack along the left side of her face that had branch out, snaking along her eyebrow and cheekbone. "What happened? Are you alright, love?" I asked, frantically, worried she had been further injured. She winced as she sat up.

"I just hit my head is all. It'll heal," she assured me. I knew that. But I still couldn't help but feel worried for her. I helped her stand up and she slowly walked back to her clothing as she gathered her hair in a bunch and rung out the water. I sighed, knowing she'd be ok. Physically, at least. Mentally though, I couldn't help but wonder if she was. I watched as my wife slipped her jewelry and shoes back on, but picked up her jacket, hanging it over her arm. I did the same as well, and she wrapped herself around me, hugging me tightly. "Thank you," she whispered, and I kissed the top of her damp head.

"It's alright, my dear. But we should keep moving. I still have to finish my story," I reminded her, and she looked up at me and smiled softly as we ran back to the car.

The wind from running dried our clothes before we reached the car, and Esme slipped her jacket back on, and controlled her hair with a loose braid. I ran my finger through my frazzled hair to brush it out of my eyes, and the two of us climbed back into the vehicle, and continued northeast down the highway further towards the outskirts.

About a 6-mile drive from the bridge, I turned down an old familiar road, into the woods. Much like our home in Forks, it was surrounded by trees and bush, and unless you knew exactly where to go, it was hard to find. That was the way most of our homes had been. The privacy and seclusion were nice for our family.

As I pulled up to our Ashland home, Esme's eyes lit up with happiness. She had always loved this home, saying it was full of wonderful memories from the first 3 years of her vampire life.

It was a simple two-story home. Larger than average, but still comfortable for three vampires at the time.

Esme climbed out of the car before I had even turned it off and was already searching her key ring for the correct key. I chuckled to myself, turning off the vehicle and following her up the path to the front door. I glanced around and notice how weathered down this place was. We of course, had not been back here since we left in 1924. Once Esme had her bloodlust control enough to travel, we left Ashland.

I stood behind my wife, who inserted the key and unlocked the old door. It creaked loudly as she pushed it. I followed behind her. It was growing dark outside and hence it was darker inside. But still light enough that even a human could navigate the room without a light source.

With no electricity being payed for, there were no lights to turn on. Given that electricity was in about 50% of American homes by the mid 1920's, we had been fortunate enough to have it, given my occupation and, at the time, my two and a half centuries of invested income. Though to have it hooked up again nearly a hundred years later, the house would probably need to be rebuild, as most wires and power sources had advanced far beyond the days of this house.

Esme's sigh pulled me from my random thoughts of electricity. I glanced at my wife who stood in front of the fireplace, looking at the dust covered mantle. I smiled softly and went to stand behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. She leaned back against me, resting into my chest. I noticed where she had wiped the dust away was the little carving of "C&E" etched into the wooden mantle. Esme's tension relaxed, and she sighed again.

"This is where you first said you loved me," she stated. I furrowed my brow slightly in confusion. I could have sworn the first time I said 'I love you' was somewhere else.

"What do you mean dear?" I asked, the confusion evident in my voice. She turned and looked at me with a smile.

"It wasn't romantically. Just friendly; caring." she stated and then I remembered what she was remembering.

I had come home from a shift at the hospital one morning, and I could hear what sounded like someone rubbing clothes together in soapy water. I had just set my bag down and hung my coat when I heard a loud ripping sound, and when I entered the kitchen found Esme. She turned around with a worried look on her face.

"Carlisle I'm so sorry," Esme said, panicked. She was standing with her back to the sink, holding the remains of what was once one of my work shirts. I sighed, feeling a slight drop in my chest, but it was only a shirt. Nothing to worry about. Esme was only a few months into this life and was still struggling daily to understand her newborn strength. She had broken many things, accidently of course. But any time she broke one of mine or Edwards things, she would go into a panic. It had been the fear of repercussion and punishment that Charles had sewn into her and it was now an instinct for her to be afraid.

I approached her slowly and wrapped her in a gentle hug, feeling the fear subside.

"It's ok Esme. It was just a shirt," I said, letting go of her, and taking the shirt from her hands, setting it on the counter. I took her hand in mine and guided her into the living room, gesturing for her to sit in the rocking chair next to the lit fireplace. She sat down, but I could still see some fear in her eyes. If she wasn't afraid of being struck, she was afraid of being yelled at. I crouched in front of her gently taking both of her hands in mine.

"I didn't mean to destroy it. I just can't control my strength," she said, in almost a pleading voice. I shushed her softly.

"Esme, it's ok. You really mustn't worry about such trivial things. Its just a shirt. Just like everything else in the house, it can be replaced," I reminded her with a caring smile. She hung her head.

"And that includes me," she added to my sentence. I was shocked by her response. I gently squeezed her hands to reassure her.

"Never. You're the one thing in this house I love too much to want to replace," I told her, and her crimson eyes met my golden ones. She smiled softly at me, and without a word, wrapped her arms around me in a hug, before returning to her washing. I stood there, looking into the fire, thinking about what I just said. If I could blush, I would have been. Had I just told her I loved her?

Esme was smiling up at me. I leaned my head down and kissed her temple, noticing the cracks had healed completely.

"Are you going to finish your story now?" she asked. I nodded, letting go of her and taking on hand, leading her through the house.

"I ran with you through the trees, as I knew I had to get out of the town fast," I began, as we walked through the house at a very slow pace. She seemed intent on listening to every word. "I had just crossed over the river that we passed on the way here, when the venom had spread enough to start causing pain. As unconscious as you were, the pain from the venom must have brought you out of it, because you started to whimper before I had arrived back hear," I explained to her, as we began climbing the stairs, "Edward was home at the time, but when I came through the door I ignored him and went straight upstairs to the bedroom. He was on my tail in second, asking a hundred questions," I said, and she half smiled at that. Almost with a look that said 'of course' or 'typical'.

I pushed open the door to the room that had been our bedroom. Or my room at the time. The air that hung was stiff, and dust scented. Of course, the old bed had a sheet covering it. I pulled it off, to reveal the old wooden, hand carved headboard that Esme had picked out a few months after we got together. Of course, the one that was there at the time had just been something simple I had picked out. As the bed was strictly for appearances. Esme gingerly sat down on the edge of the old mattress. I sat next to her, and she gently took my hand, encouraging me to continue.

"By the time I set you down on the bed, Edward was already scolding me about what I had done. As if I didn't already feel bad about it… You were screaming, not loudly, but begging to die. Wanting the pain to stop," I told her, she frowned slightly.

"I think that's just the natural response. Even Rose and Emmett were like that too," she tried to assure me. But somewhere deep inside me, I knew I had saved someone who wanted to, at the time, truly die. I sighed and continued.

"Edward and I sat here for two days, watching you writhe in pain, screaming, crying, begging for it to stop. Watching as everything healed. You were clawing at the bed, eyes always squeezed shut. And all I could do was hold your hand and talk," I added, looking down at my lap, where my wife had our hands resting, intertwined, "And eventually you just stopped. You laid completely still for a few seconds before your heart stopped, and your eyes opened," I finished.

Esme had quite the mesmerized look on her face.

"That's the first thing I remember clearly," she said, her voice quiet, "Opening my eyes and seeing you, and thinking I was in heaven," she told me, and I smiled. Though I could never measure up to someone as high and mighty as our saviour, it sometimes humbled me greatly when Esme saw me as 'God'.

"If anything, you were further from it than before," I told her. Esme pressed her finger to my lips, hushing me. I smiled gently and took her hand, kissing her fingers. Though she saw me as a god, I saw her as a goddess. Someone who always deserved to be loved and worshiped, in every way. She smiled and caressed my cheek with her palm.

"Carlisle," she whispered softly, "You need to stop viewing what you did as condemning and view it as saving, the way the rest of us do. Even Rosalie. I know that sometimes on the surface she acts bitter about what she is, but deep down she's happy she was given some sort of chance," Esme told me, and kissed my neck gently. I exhaled deeply, enjoying the feeling, "I love you," she whispered against my skin as I wrapped my arms around her and rested a cheek against her head. I longed to be engulfed by her floral like scent, but the smell of grass, and rocks, and lake water had clung to her, as it did to me, and my memory was only haunted by that scent. The way she first smelled when I bit her. The only thing missing to identically complete the scent was the aftertaste of her blood that lingered in my mouth.

"We shouldn't stay long," I said, breaking the silence. Esme looked up at me.

"Worried about the kids?" she asked, jokingly. I didn't respond and she straighten herself, frowning, "You don't like being here," she stated, knowing me too well.

"Not with all the bad memories floating in my mind right now," I told her. She pulled away from me, kicking off her shoes, and climbing fully onto the bed. I looked at her quizzically.

"What about all the good ones?" she asked, a smirk across her face as she pulled my arm and pushed me to lay down. She hovered over me, her golden eyes growing slightly darker. Her braid hung over her shoulder, the end threatening to tickle my nose as she leaned closer, before kissing my neck softly. I moaned quietly, feeling a growl of ecstasy growing in my chest, and I fought to supress it.

"Esme," I half moaned, sitting up, but she remained close to me, "There's many amazing memories here, and I'd love to relive a couple of them. But I truly think we should head back home soon. I have a couple more thing I wanted to show you," I told her. She gave me those eyes and I sighed, giving in. "Ok, just ten more minutes," I said, and she smiled, pushing me back down and unbuttoning my shirt.

Ten minutes of kissing turned into two hours, with how easily we lost track of time. The hours felt like seconds. It always did. No amount of time, or intensity of lust was ever enough with her. I could kiss her for hours and make love to her for day. She made me lose sense of everything. Time, thirst, my worries.

We were back in the car, headed home. It was nearing 2 am and we were almost back in Ohio. The 12-hour drive, at a human speed, was half the time for us at vampire driving speed under the cover of dark. At nearly 100mph, the cars engine still hummed silently.

Esme had her head rested against the window, her eyes closed. If she hadn't been holding my free hand in her lap, stroking it gently with her thumb, I would have thought she was out of it. She had been quiet for over an hour, mindlessly listening to the radio. She had it on some 90's channel. I hadn't been paying much attention to the music, as I had been lost in my thoughts for a while. I felt Esme drop my hand and glanced at her as she reached forward and turned the volume up slightly, before relaxing into her seat and closing her eyes again, grasping my hand in her lap again, as if she hadn't even moved. I smiled, as she began humming softly to herself, the tune of the intro. My smiled grew when she started singing along, as if I wasn't there. She looked so human. So comfortable and relaxed. I listen to her sing,

"For all those times you stood by me; for all the truth that you made me see; for all the joy you brought to my life; for all the wring that you made right;"

She sang to herself the first couple lines of Celine Dion's 'Because You Loved Me'. Such a beautiful song for its time, and even beautiful now listening to my wife softly sing this 30-year-old song like she was a carefree 26-year-old girl in todays modern age. She had such an angelic voice when she spoke, but when she sang, so did the angels. It took her until nearly the 80's before she sang anything but the church hymns and lullaby's she knew from her childhood. Even before that, she would only hum to herself and sing in her head. I was times like that when I envied Edwards ability.

I just sat in my seat, watching the road ahead of us and occasionally glancing at my wife, who softly sang her song. She had a voice that rivaled even the artists of her own song.

Esme's POV

"I love when you sing," Carlisle said quietly, as the music faded. I had almost forgotten he was here. I had been so lost and wrapped up in my own world that I had tuned everything out. I looked at him and swear I almost blushed.

"There's only a few that I can't help but sing to," I admitted, and turned the radio back down to its previous volume. Carlisle smiled at me.

"Sometimes I wish we went to church every once in a while," Carlisle admitted, sheepishly almost, "You would fit so beautifully in with the choir," he added. I sighed.

"I do miss many of those old hymns," I told him. He smiled. I always knew that somewhere inside him, Carlisle wished that as a vampire, he could have continued his human life in his fathers' footsteps, but the way he wanted to do it. When I first began to get to know him, he often quoted verses of the bible as reassurance. It was comforting, and I understood, being someone who often went to church as a little girl. "You should preach again," I encouraged, though knowing the subject he would try to shake it off, "Maybe eventually we can move back to London. Maybe one day you'll grow tired of the Superhuman Doctor thing," I joked lightly, and he smiled, but shook his head.

"Doing what I do brings me enough joy," he said, and there was silence been us. Like I expected, he changed the subject quickly after. "We'll be home in about ten minutes. We should hunt when we get back,"

I shook my head, "I want to know what you wanted to show me first," I said, and he nodded once. We drove the rest of the way in silence.

Pulling up to the house, we weren't greeted by a plethora of family members like usual.

"That's strange," I said, climbing out of the car, and noticing all the lights in the house were off. It didn't look like anyone was home. The only evidence that currently confirmed many vampires and wolves were missing, was that several of the cars were gone. Carlisle carried our small bags we had packed for the short trip, in the event we needed anything, and I unlocked the front door, flicking on the first light switch. Then I noticed the note that was left on the bench near the door. I picked it up, reading over it. I was a short note in Alice's scrawl.

Giving you some privacy. Be back tomorrow at noon

-Alice

1 AM

36 hours alone. I smiled, holding the note up so Carlisle could glance at it. He smiled and carried our bags past me.

"Come up to my office when you're done here," he said, and disappeared up the stairs to our room. I smiled, taking my shoes off and removing my coat, hanging it up. Then slowly made my way upstairs and down the hall towards Carlisle's office. I entered, seeing him standing at the bookcase, searching for a specific book. I sat down on the bay window, waiting for him to find his book. I wasn't sure what a book had to do with what he wanted to show me but of course I would listen anyway. I watched my husband pull out a book from the shelf. A rather thick one that looked like it had a few hundred pages in it. He came and sat beside me, gently setting the old dusty book in my lap. But it wasn't as heavy as I expected a book of that size to be. It was rather light, and…. I picked it up…..hollow? I examined the side, and realized it was one of those fake storage books that was meant to look like an old, real book.

"Open it," he stated, looking at me. Curiously I opened the lid, and inside sat many papers, mostly folded in half. I looked at Carlisle, confused, as he reached in and pulled out a stack of folded paper. "To understand what haunts me so much Esme, you need to see it for yourself," he said, "When I found you in the morgue, the papers that I took had already been processed. The usual information and such," he said, and handed me the stack of papers. I furrowed my brow at him. So what did a bunch of papers have to do with my human death. I looked down at the papers in my hand, reading the carefully charted and organized information.

Esme Platt

Twenty-six y/o

Female

T.O.D: May 19. 1921 approx. 18:00

Notes: Multiple injuries. Cause of death probable to internal bleeding.

I continued down the page, reading everything that the chart had to offer.

Injuries

Multiple Abrasions to face

Multiple contusions of the body.

Occipital laceration, w/ swelling, possible concussion

Fractured Vertebrae C4-T2, possible spinal cord injuries, signs of whiplash

Right/ Clavicle, fractured

Right/True Ribs 2-5, fractured, segmental break of rib 3, possible lung puncture

Hematoma of the Pericardial Sack

Right/ False Ribs 8&9, fractured

Left/ Radius, comminuted break

Left/ Ulna, non-displaced fracture

Left/ Carpals, hairline fracture

Left/ Femur, hairline fracture

Right/ Tibia, hairline fracture

I noticed that the list of injuries was written in a different colour of ink.

"Did you fill this in?" I asked, looking at him, and he nodded.

"I filled it in after I brought you to the house, but before the venom started healing you," he stated. I read over the fancy list of medical terms again, though I wasn't entirely sure what most of them meant.

"Is that all bad?" I asked and I thought for a second Carlisle was almost going to laugh. Maybe at how clueless I was. But he regained his composure.

"Bad enough that you wouldn't have lived," he said. I looked at him, then back at the paper.

"I really don't understand all your medical terms," I told him honestly, hoping he would inform me, in English, what this all meant. He didn't take the paper from me but pointed at each term as he explained it as simply as possible.

"Abrasions and contusions are scrapes and bruises. An occipital laceration is a cut to the back of the head. Your vertebrae C4-T2 is part of your spine from here-", he touched the up part of my neck, "-to here," he said and touched somewhere in between my shoulders, "And fractured simply means broken. Your clavicle is your collarbone," he continued, and by this point, was touching or pointing on me where each injury was to make it simple, "You have three 'sets' of ribs. From the top down, your true ribs are the first seven that are attached to the sternum. The second set, the false ribs, is the next 4 that are only attached by cartilage, and your floating ribs are the bottom one on each side that are only attached to the vertebrae on your spine," he explained. Of course, it was impossible for him to poke and move the bones and cartilage as the transformation had turned everything to the crystalline structure that was our vampire bodies. Carlisle continued on, "A segmented break, like it has listed for true rib 3, is when a bone is broken in more than one place. And then it says possible lung puncture, meaning I believed one of those broken rib pieces had punctured your lung. And then 'hematoma' means the bleeding or pooling of blood around an organ and in this case, it was around the pericardial sack, which is the sack of tissue that surrounds your heart. And then false rib eight and nine were broken," he explained this like he was reciting it out of a "Medical Terms for Dummies" book. He picked up my arm and kept going, "In your left forearm, your radius, the smaller bone, and ulna, the larger one, were both broken. A comminuted break is when the bone splinters into many pieces around the break site, and a non-displaced break is when the broke breaks but remains lined up. Similar to the way you broke your leg at 16," he added and that kind of made me smile through a list of such morbid injuries, "Your carpals are the bones at the base of your wrist, and of course a hairline fracture is just a small crack in the bone. Which is also what you had in your left femur, the bone in your thigh, and your right tibia, the bigger of the two bones in your shin," Carlisle finished his medical rant, and I felt like I just took a human skeletal anatomy lesson in 4 minutes. I nodded, a touch surer of what I was looking at, and flipped the page. The second page was simple form with Carlisle's 'Dr. C Cullen, M.D.' signature bared at the bottom. I read over the page, which in summary said, "Suicide victim. Body removed."

Carlisle looked very upset, almost tired, after his little medical spiel. I flipped to the next page and there were three very old photographs stapled to the paper. Two were taken at a 45-degree angle from both the left and right side, and one was a straight on photograph from head to mid-chest. I felt a wave of horror and shock run through me as I looked at the old black and white images. All of them were picture of what I could only assume was me. What Carlisle had said about no one recognizing who I was, was almost completely true.

I stared, unable to take my eyes off the head on shot or my 'dead' body. A woman wearing a dirtied, white, high collared, button up blouse, with the top two buttons undone, lay on her back, eyes closed. Her hair was matted but you could tell it was dry. And several bruises and scraps covered her face. One of her eyes had begun to swell slightly and turn black, and I noticed some dried blood near her hairline. Her mouth was ever so slightly open, lips parted, and you could faintly make out the shadowed teeth, that surprisingly had not been knocked out. There was a cut on her lower lip. But in all the horror of the image, she looked to be simply asleep. Peaceful in an awaiting death.

I finally managed to pull my eyes from the image and look at Carlisle. How long had it been? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Nothing had changed around me and could only assume I had stared for maybe two minutes at the most. I set the papers down, standing up and walking away from the box, and Carlisle.

I jumped when I felt his arms around me but relaxed slightly afterwards. He buried his face into my hair, that probably still reeked of nasty lake water, even though it had long since dried. I felt Carlisle's breath against the nape of my neck.

"This is why I never showed you. I was afraid of scarring you. I knew for a long time that was something you wouldn't want to see," he said, almost upset with himself, "I'm sorry," he said softly, and I turned, lifting he face so out eyes would meet.

"I never knew how bad it really was. And now I do…" I told him, "It's a little jilting to see, I'll admit. But I'm not afraid, Carlisle," I told him, and softly kissed his lips for a moment. When we parted, I looked over around him slightly, to where the "book" still sat on the bay window, "What else is in the box?" I asked, looking up at him, and walking back over to my seat, before he could answer. I lifted the box onto my lap and continued on through the papers. I unfolded one that looked like it was from a bank. "Transfer on death account?" I asked, reading over the paper. It had all my bank information from 1920-1921. All my income, and taxes listed. Near the top was my very clearly forged signature, as I had no memory of ever signing this paper. And at the bottom next to 'name of beneficiary', Charles Evenson. I was confused. What had Carlisle done?

"I forged a transfer upon death account, so Charles wouldn't go after your family in search of your money," Carlisle said, stuffing his hands in his pocket. I narrowed my eyes at him, "You ran away from him, but were technically still married. So, your money was his money. To keep him from going after your family when he found out you were legally "dead", I had the papers forged for your money to be transferred to him, and things would be settled," he explained. I was slightly angry, not at Carlisle, but at the fact that my monster of an ex husband got all my hard-earned teaching money. But I was thankful for what Carlisle did to protect my family.

"Thank you," I whispered, looking back at the papers, before folding them and putting them to the side with the others. I kept digging. Multiple copies of my "death" certificate signed with Carlisle's signature again. Under than was something I never expected to find folded in among those papers. My child's death certificate, and stapled to that, my charts from the hospitals I had been to during pregnancy. I looked up at Carlisle, who was sitting down beside me again. "How did you get these?" I asked, my voice barely audible. Carlisle's shoulders sank slightly.

"It wasn't without great difficulty," he said, and I wrapped my arms around his side in a hug. He gently placed the papers back in the box and closed the lid. And when I let go of him, he stood up, placing the fake book back in its spot on the shelf.

It was only then that I noticed the entire 6-piece set of books on the one shelf looked the same, fake. But all the same look, all the same height. But slightly different colours, varying from old brown, to faded red, and rustic green. It must have been where he kept everyone's traceable papers and information from their human lives.

"Who's all do you have?" I asked, and he knew I had clued into his secret book stash. He sighed.

"Mine, yours, Edwards, Rosalie's, Emmett's, and Bella's," he admitted. I tilted my head,

"What's in yours?" I asked, and he shook his head.

"Just records of the places I worked. Can't have people thinking I'm some kind of immortal doctor," he said and gave me a wink. I rolled my eyes and wrapped my arms around him in a hug again. I could still smell the dried water scent on him.

"Let's go take a hot shower," I suggested, looking up at him, "and get this nasty lake water smell off us,"

Carlisle nodded, and we abandoned out embrace.

"Go jump in. I'll be there in a few minutes," he said, and I nodded with a smile, taking off at a normal walk towards the bathroom.

Carlisle's POV

I pushed open the bathroom door, the steam already beginning to cloud the bathroom. The water was running behind the shower curtain, and I could hear Esme scrubbing her hair. The bathroom air filled with the scent of lavender, Esme's favourite smell to bathe with. I smiled, noticed her clothing from earlier was laid across the bathroom counter. I closed the door behind me.

"Hello," Esme said softly from behind the curtain, acknowledging my presence.

I chuckled softly, listening to her rinse her hair as I undressed myself, laying my clothing on top of hers, and setting the fresh pair of boxer-briefs I had brought for myself on the other end of the counter. Slowly I approached the shower and stepped behind the curtain, seeing my wife with her bare backside to me, her head under the water, rinsing away the last of the soap in her hair. I smiled as she turned around, looking at me. A soft grin came across her face.

"I was wondering when you were going to join me," she said sweetly and I laughed to myself, pulling her towards me, her wet body pressed against my dry one. She smirked and turned us around, pushing me slightly back and into the running water, then handed me my shampoo bottle. I looked at her, confused. "After. Once you don't smell like Lake Superior," she laughed. I did too as I quickly washed my hair and body, my wife watching me from the opposite end of the shower.

When I was done, I pulled her into my arms again, and wrapped them around her, she snaked her hands behind my neck and up into my hair at the back. Our bodies pressed together as the hot water poured over my back and onto the two of us. Esme kept her head rested against my chest. My hands roamed her lower back, occasionally cupping her butt.

"Thank you," she whispered softly like she had before, "For taking my there today. And for everything you've done for me since we met," she said, and I pressed my lips to her neck, kissing her scar softly.

"For you my dear, anything," I whispered against her skin, finally enjoying that rosy-lavender scent that was hers.

She sighed, and tried to bite back a moan as my hands gently massaged her butt. Her quiet moans and that purring-like thing that vampires did deep down in their chest, turned me on, arousing me. Of course, there was no hiding it here. I felt Esme smile against my shoulder, feeling my arousal pressing against her pelvic bone. I lifted my lips from her neck, and her from my shoulder. Our eyes, now a dark shade of brown/black locked to one another, before I pressed my lips forcefully to hers, and she accepted my lustful kiss. I broke away from our kiss for a moment and brush the wet strands of hair from her cheek.

"You know," I said, as she copied my action, playing with my hair that was glued to my forehead with water, "I'd love for you to tell me all about those great memories you were mentioning at the house in Ashland," I smirked as her and she smiled, reaching behind me and turning off the water, before pulling away from me and slipping out of the shower. I chuckled to myself at her eagerness and opened the curtain.

I was immediately met with an already towelled Esme, who didn't give me time to react before she threw my own towel and clean underwear at me.

"Bedroom. 5 minutes," she stated and slipped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I quickly began drying myself off, and threw on my boxers, and gave my hair a quick towel dry. I gathered out dirty clothes and ran then downstairs to the laundry, before going back up to our room, where Esme was laying, quite dramatically, on her side of the bed. I smiled, closing the bedroom door and climbing onto the bed, immediately hovering over her body. She smiled up at me, I back at her. She just stared up at me, grinning as she looked into my eyes. I was almost expecting her to forcefully pull me into a passionate kiss, but she didn't.

"What?" I asked, my smile softening. She sighed, reaching one hand up from where it rested against my chest, and played with a strand of hair that was falling in my eyes.

"I'm just happy my life is with you now," she said, and kissed me again. I grinned at her, feeling my frozen heart swell. Then she bit her lips and gazed at me, "Now, lets stop talking of the past, and love me,".

And I did. We did. Until the afternoon sun peered in through our bedroom window. Our bare skin softly sparkling, as I played with her hair, her waves messy, and her face rested against my chest.

"I'm glad you're a part of my life too," I whispered in her ear, and she smiled.

She completed me. She was the light of my life. Although I wish she had never been through the things that led her to me, I couldn't be happier that they did just that.