A/N – I do not own The Twilight Saga or the charactersin any way; all rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyer.

Scared

Esme's P.O.V.

Nobody understood how Bella felt. Even I, although my life had carried its burdens, couldn't completely tell how she felt. Edward seemed like he couldn't care less at the moment, even though I knew he meant well, his actions had made me believe he had – through everything the pair had endured – given up on her.

But I knew he wouldn't, and it was bad of me to think like I was, but when you're faced with situations like this one, I know from my own experience that giving up seems the best option rather than fighting against some impossible feat.

But this wasn't normal. Why give up when no-one knew the outcome? Why give up when the second person involved wasn't ready to give up?

I watched my husband intently; his hands were placed upon Bella's forehead, his brow furrowed in concern. I sat on the kitchen island away from the crowd that had gathered around her. My legs were dangling over the side, my feet not touching the ground. I didn't want to get too close, especially while Carlisle was working. I felt as if I was interfering.

"You have a ridiculously high temperature, Bella," Carlisle murmured, fixing a stethoscope to him and checking Bella's heart.

I could see faint amusement in Emmett's eyes. Carlisle didn't need the stethoscope, it was mainly for show at work, but old habits die hard. Rosalie knocked him in the chest and the glint of humour diminished in his eyes.

"Edward," Carlisle whispered so that everyone except Bella could hear, "A word?" Edward looked up to his father from where he was kneeling beside Bella. His eyes were black with thirst and he was pushing his restraint to the limit.

Edward, aware of Carlisle's need to talk thundered from the room in a rage so significant to him – even as a family his hurting was far too much to take together sometimes. Carlisle followed him, but I stopped him, placing a palm on his chest. My husband looked down to me with such tentative concern that it momentarily choked me up. Smiling, I nodded at my husband although our hope together was wavering.

We were both for the first time, scared.

I let him go, though, knowing that he has the wisdom and experience to calm his ever fretting son. Knowing that while he is trying to stay strong for every member in this family, his heart is tearing into a thousand tiny pieces every second – with every breath he takes. But I would be there beside him, and maybe, if I looked close enough, I would find the little pieces of his heart and patch him up again, because if it's anything I can't possibly stand, it's the pain my husband allows to swallow him up. His tiredness and weariness so often seen when he loses patients at work can be seen now, maybe not by our children, but so expertly by me.

Dropping my chin to my chest, I run my hands over my face; the gentle breeze caused by my children leaving the room was a welcoming sensation. I hated showing weakness before them, especially after what that man had done to me in the past. Weakness was something I hated, but her arms had started to take me in their icy hold.

The room was empty except from the struggling form of Bella who was currently asleep in one of Edward's shirts. My heart bled for her, it really did. I had a child once, someone with whom I loved with all my heart. While he was alive I experienced the happiest moments of my human life; even when he was growing within my womb, the bond I had allowed to form connected me far too deeply with the little life God diminished all too soon. I knew how Bella was feeling. How something so incredible could be taken from you so suddenly. How people thought they knew what was best for you and never bothering to listen to what you wanted, what you needed. I could tell by the way her eyes sparked with a ferocity so clear when anyone mentioned abortion, that she had grown to love the tiny being that took everything from her.

Tip-toeing over to the fragile human, I took my place next to her. Her brow was beaded with sweat and she was shivering even though we had tried everything to keep her warm. Brushing the hair that feel in front of her face, a flutter of a smile passed her lips before leaving again.

"I'm sorry, Esme," Carlisle announced from behind me, my dead heart jumping from my chest as the words lingered in the air.

I took my time answering, my eyes still traced on Bella. "Why are you sorry, Carlisle?" I asked, the back of my hand stroking Bella's cheek in a comforting fashion.

Footsteps padded behind me and I allowed myself to turn my head towards my Husband's figure. His eyes were brown now, not completely black, but if he starved himself anymore, that's what the result would be.

"You need to feed," I stated, my voice a whisper so I wouldn't wake Bella up.

Carlisle sighed, shifting his weight – another human quality we perfected years ago. "I'm fine, really," he answered. I knew him too well to tell he was lying.

"Don't lie to me, Carlisle," I retorted, my eyes lingering on each feature of his face. "Not now, please."

He walked over to me, kneeling beside me and wrapping an arm around my waist. Placing a kiss on my hair, he breathed out.

"Esme, I..." he paused and I leant back on my heels, taking the tired face into view.

"Tell me," I urged, my voice sounding slightly desperate.

"I'm scared," he whispered, his eyes traced on the carpet.

My mouth fell open slightly. I knew he was scared, but he never usually admitted it to me because I knew, ridiculously like me, he hated to be weak. I tenderly placed my arms around him, my head resting on his shoulder. "I am too," I murmured into his chest.

His arms like mine snaked around me to enclose me in the safest place I knew. My breathing became even, even though there's no point in our kind breathing. His hold was extra tight today, as if he felt like if he let go he'd lose himself entirely.

"Carlisle," I whispered, gently, "It's alright to be scared."

He shook his head and his shoulders began to tremble. This was the first time I had felt lost by his side. Because Carlisle, the man who is so steady and focussed on everything he does, has just broken in front of me. "But Esme," he hiccups, his shaking becoming more profound, "How can I not be scared when I have a whole family completely dumfounded by such a situation as this? When my wife herself is scared and refuses to let it show?"

I hold him tighter, with all my might and kiss his forehead softly.

"I've been in this profession for nearly two hundred years, Esme. I should know about these sorts of things, my knowledge should be broad enough!"

Placing a finger over his lips, I hush him. "I am, Carlisle, a mother, a lover, a friend, an ally, a person, a wife. I am all these things and being these people I have experienced and gone through so many things. It is on our nature, Carlisle, to be scared of things we haven't yet experienced because unlike everything that has fallen before us, we knew what would come of them. This, Carlisle, is different and you shouldn't be ashamed of yourself for being scared."

The hurt in his eyes burns me every time his brown orbs meet my golden ones. I can feel the weight he's carrying on his shoulders and it makes me wonder how long he's been carrying the burden all by himself.

"Let me help you," I begged, stroking his hair.

"You shouldn't have to," he retorted.

"We all need help sometime or later," I reminded him, gently, "As one person I know has told me and shown me many times in the past."

Sighing deeply, a smile creases the corner of his lips. "Where do we start?" he asks, timidly.

I cup his cheek with my hand. "At the start."

A/N – I've forgotten how much I LOVE this couple! It's been ages since I've done a Twilight one-shot, but I'm back and REALLY sorry!

But anyways, if you enjoyed this, Please Review! They're greatly appreciated!

Thanks, Katie1995. :)