A/N: As I said previously, there will be overlap between Epov and Cpov chapters.

dazzleglo: Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed it. :)
peanutmeg: Thank you so much! I loved how SM described Edward's relationship with Carlisle in Midnight Sun, but I felt it would be severely tested post-New Moon.
jessah: Aw, thank you! And Carlisle's my favorite, too (as you can tell). ;)
SonicTeamCE: Thank you for the encouragement! I'm so glad you like it!

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Chapter 3: Tension

Alternating soft and heavy patterns of spluttering water droplets fell with inexorable consistency against the windowed walls of our home, the many fluid shapes flattered brilliantly by the darkness which exposed every tear-shaped outline as it splashed magnificently on wide panes of glass. Even to one who had seen more rain that most humans could see in two or three lifetimes, the sounds were mildly distracting and, in any case, added a touch of cacophony to the present lecture. Which was just as well, seeing as Jasper's voice had begun to drone slightly near the end of his delegated explanations. Rather forcefully, I was reminded of a famous linguist reciting a litany of heavy-handed glossary terms to small, dawdling elementary school children.

One could only hope my militaristic son did not fully realize the wildly disproportionate amusement that passed through me at the thought. Just the once, I wished for him to miss it entirely. I recognized the feeling of humor more as a response to my own irrational panic than as a childish inability to understand the seriousness of the circumstances at hand. Indeed, my strange humor often – and inexplicably – reached formerly-unknown heights immediately before a crisis approached. The effect was oftentimes embarrassing and discomfiting, unless or until Jasper took control of it with an amused, albeit bracing, smile.

Emmett's sullen demeanor was completely and unbelievably surreal, by comparison. My brawny, jocular son had lost so much of himself after the events of recent months. Those boyish dimples, so cherished by Rosalie and Esme, had lain dormant for far too long. As many times before, I felt worry building up in heavy layers within me at the sight of that dour face and weighted stance. And how I missed that boy's booming laughter!

Shifting uncomfortably at this unsettling line of thought, I was jolted back to reality by a warm puff of breath from the fragile little package I had settled against my chest. Bella. Sweet, selfless Bella... so trusting of us that she could sleep even after what had transpired not long before. Thinking of the young girl and her deeply-rooted presence in all of our lives reminded me vividly of the troubled manner in which she had been handed over to my care earlier that morning. The rain, a moment ago only a backdrop of noise, now sent a small wave of appeasement through me; not nearly enough to overshadow the continuing worry I tried to repress, but enough to give a part of my mind some ease. Charlie – whom I prayed was healthy and unharmed – would soon be free from the wildfire's devastating possibilities, for the rain was fast becoming a full-blown storm of epic proportions.

Allowing a single sigh to vent my edgy relief, absently I wondered how long the break in tension would last for me. I was frankly startled when Edward's sharp voice nearly echoed throughout the room a minute later. "What's that about?"

Neither Emmett nor Jasper seemed to understand the question anymore than I did, if their blank faces spoke the truth, which only served to fuel my contentious son's agitation as a gruff sigh escaped him.

"Carlisle," he specified with a faint grinding of his back teeth, something I was positive he did not even realize he was doing.

What on earth did I do? Surely I had not failed in rerouting his mind-reading. I had not slipped in such a way for many decades. It was so much second nature to initiate a block that I did not require conscious control of it at the present time. "You seem almost relieved about all of this. I can't think of anything less relieving than tonight's findings."

Wincing was partly an instinctive reaction to the gritty, accusatory undertone of Edward's remark and it was difficult to restrain it completely. Doubtless my sons could still pick out the heavily-suppressed gesture if they were watching closely enough.

Really, Edward? Would you think such a thing of me? It hurt to imagine my first son's faith falling so far off the mark. I had half a mind to send those very thoughts for him to hear, but it would be all too easy for him to simply ignore.

"Neither can I. I'm not sure what you mean, Edward," I answered, frowning mildly in genuine confusion. "I never thought this was – in any way – a pleasant set of facts."

"Your sigh said otherwise," was his callously cool reply.

Oh, for heaven's sake. How could he make something out of that? Was I a criminal for such simple gestures? Instead of answering him aloud, I sighed deep within myself and decided my mind was, indeed, a better place to reason out this nonsensical argument. And perhaps, with Edward's born impatience, it was better if he saw for himself what had occurred with his young love. It took a brief moment to pick out the order and precise parts of the memories, but within a minute I reeled off the events of Bella, Charlie, and the fire to the North as concisely as possible. Obviously, the rain would be a welcome aide to clearing up that particular crisis. If Edward could not see that, then there was more trouble afoot between us than I would have liked to admit.

At last, Edward said, "I see." In a lone sigh of surrender, he cleared all of my fears. Much was to be said between us, but at least he was still willing to give in to an extent.

"You'd think these two would have learned how much we hate that." Jasper's sudden input would have made me chuckle any other time, but the sight of Emmett's unappreciative face drowned out all potential amusement.

He merely grunted, "Hmph." That was all the reaction he ever had as of late and it troubled me so greatly I could hardly stand to let it pass untested once more, but I knew all too well how little my curly-haired son would appreciate interference on my part.

"I am sorry." It took much of my energy to turn away from Emmett's dejected features and force a small smile at Jasper for his attempt. Yet my eyes traveled back an instant later; I really could not help it. "I can explain, if you wish. I simply felt it might be better to reassure Edward quickly before he troubled himself overmuch."

'I know how you worry for Bella,' I thought for Edward's sake. Truly, it was his feelings that I worried over. The youth was so prepared for immediate action upon the smallest things; my natural instinct was to prevent Edward hurting himself by overreaction. Edward's corresponding wince to this thought confused me. Not that he appeared angry with me, although one could never exactly tell at times…

"I should take Bella upstairs," said Edward shortly, abruptly, interrupting my musings. I did not resist as he reached for the girl and lifted her gently up into his arms, but the accompanying low murmur caught me entirely off guard. "Thank you for taking care of her."

He did not catch my eye, a sign of humility I was astounded to see. Of course, this was far less of a surprise than the words themselves. Edward did not often express such emotion over so simple a matter. Before I could wonder what had brought on the rare occurrence, my first son disappeared up to his room and out of range of my curiously scrutinizing gaze. Silence settled – absolute and unyielding in its potency – over the interior of our home.

In any other circumstance, Emmett would break the ice again with badly-delivered wisecracks and utterly tasteless trivia. A chuckling laugh would escape me, Esme's laughter would warm everyone's hearts, and the tinkle of Alice's chime-like giggles would create an atmosphere of buoyancy. Bella would blush, possibly even being the victim of a joke herself, and laugh a little at his silliness. Edward would groan and pound the keys of his piano in agitation, but secretly he would snicker with the seventeen-year-old spirit he will always have. Rose would roll her eyes and cross her arms in displeasure, yet in all actuality feel adoration for her childish husband, then threaten Edward with dismantlement of his Vanquish if he told anyone the truth of her thoughts. Jasper's talent would bring him all the humor of the family, rolled into one good-natured package, and dole it out widely as he grinned.

The depressing reality of our current state pressed in upon me heavily. Jasper's slight sigh, escaping for reasons unknown to me, was as far from the humor I envisioned as could be had. And then there were thoughts of the strangers in our midst, who had watched so carefully and then run away to their own destruction. Who was this vicious strategist, who so skillfully arranged the unusual procession of spies upon us? How could I keep my family safe, if we had no inkling of the watcher's purposes or goals?

A cycle of endless debate followed in my mind, neither enlightening nor hope-inducing, until a feeling of peace began to ease each and every one of us. Glancing knowingly toward Jasper, I was able to return his wry smile genuinely for the first time that morning. Milder, less threatening questions about Edward's humility rose to take the place of my former worries over the intruders. Moments passed with the only sounds being five soft sets of breathing, a single calm heartbeat, and the occasional rustling of covers from upstairs. No amount of delving into what I knew of Edward's psyche gave me any more answers than I had before. Frustrated, but unwilling to dwell on it, I moved to detail the situation with Bella and Charlie for the less-than-intrigued Emmett and Jasper. Well, that was not precisely correct; they did display expressions of concern over Bella's reaction. Both of them cared about her, after all.

More silence intruded, this time vaguely more comfortable than the first. Predictably, my blocked thoughts wandered back to Edward and Bella and the madness we had induced the past several days; an ongoing series of dilemmas no one seemed able to agree upon.

The soul of Bella Swan was in question as far as Edward was concerned and I, in whom my son had confided these deeply-rooted fears, was suddenly willing to take it away from her. While it was plain neither Bella nor myself were in agreement with Edward on his view of our souls, he had still trusted me not to interfere with the fate of his only love. Bella, by contrast, felt nothing was as important as Edward and firmly believed her soul and his were not endangered by this transformation, but by the choices of an individual. She was so certain, so utterly convinced. To complicate matters, Bella's conviction in Edward's love for her was rooted in the change itself. If he was unwilling to change her, then he did not love her enough.

How was I to reconcile one choice with the other, one hope with the opposite hope?

By the time a car sounded on our drive some time later, I was so deep in my exacerbated ponderings that Emmett's sudden move to the front door startled me sharply into awareness. Jasper, too, twitched in surprise and sent a brief look over at his brother, who now stood outside to await the arrival of the other three ladies in our family. More to the point, he was waiting for his wife. Smiling pleasantly at Emmett's more viable enthusiasm, I rose from my seat on the sofa to await my own lovely wife.

No time at all, and yet far too long a time, passed before a warm voice caught my ears and a beautiful, familiar scent invaded my senses. Alice came through the doorway first, grinning happily at Jasper and dragging him up and outside to help carry in more of the shopping bags.

Esme's form was gentle, even sharpened by the alterations of her vampire body, and the sight of her when she walked through the front door next flooded me with a calm that Jasper could scarcely make me feel on his best day. A smile automatically overtook my face as Esme – elegantly serene in a dark sage dress bedecked with ivory designs – came into my open arms as though we'd been apart for years and not hours.

"I missed you," I whispered helplessly into her mane of rich caramel, burying my nose in the waves of hair with tender care.

"It's only been a few hours," she teased softly in my ear, and I knew as she spoke she would be crinkling her nose affectionately, "but I missed you, too."

"What a coincidence," I laughed very quietly, savoring the moment of tranquility, arms wrapped tightly about her back and my chin resting down on her left shoulder. At times like that, with her smaller arms around my waist, she always seemed so tiny.

The bubble we floated in nearly received a rude puncture in the form of Rosalie clearing her throat overly loudly, as I could tell from the inhale of breath she suddenly took. Over Esme's head, I espied my blonde daughter's sour expression with resignation, and Emmett's return to saturnine moodiness with mild alarm. One would think the return of his beloved would improve Emmett's mood.

Before Rosalie's interruption could occur, Edward took the matter completely out of her hands, to the surprise of all. "Carlisle, would you come sit with Bella, please?"

Equally startled, Esme and I pulled apart with only a smidgen of reluctance, my hands coming up to rest on her slender shoulders. It was then, looking directly into her face at a close angle, that I realized something was wrong.

"A moment, Edward," I muttered to him absentmindedly, frowning kindly down at Esme's suddenly-cautious face; the shrewd downturn of her brows, a nearly-imperceptible spasm in her jaw, and her eyes… those big, wondrous eyes were tight with stress. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Esme denied it with a casual shrug of her delicate shoulders. The gesture was too casual. She was lying; and she was lying very plainly. What about, I could not fathom. Worry for her struck me hard. Why was she unwilling to tell me?

"There is something," I persisted very softly, reaching up to brush my knuckles tenderly along her soft cheek. Did she not trust me, for some reason? Had I done something offensive without realizing it? "I… I hope you—"

"Carlisle." Edward's voice was closer now and more insistent. Esme took the chance to look away towards this new distraction, but if I was not much mistaken, there was even more tension in her eyes than a moment earlier. Doing my utmost to allow her privacy of a sort, I dropped my hands from her shoulders and turned disappointedly to find Edward on the stairs, staring directly at Esme with a hostile expression.

"Edward!" I reproached him, feeling as stunned as Esme looked. My hand unconsciously slipped back onto my wife's shoulder.

"Carlisle, sit with Bella," he pushed with almost ferocious intensity, pulling his eyes away from Esme long enough to focus on me. "I'm not going to do anything to hurt my mother. I swear it. Just, please, trust me for a moment?"

Glancing off to the side at the rest of my family, of whom four were as shocked as I was, it was hard not to feel apprehensive. Alice, though… she did look relatively relaxed. Unhappy and a bit irritated, but completely easy in her manner. Looking back at Edward, his eyes imploring, I knew I should trust him. I frowned unhappily all the same. "Very well."

Esme passed an uncomfortable, but resigned look my way as I let go of her and stepped across to the stairs, and I finally accepted I had made the right choice. She seemed to know exactly what Edward was planning. Confusion still reigned in my head, but I sped up to my son's room and quickly took a seat beside Bella. Her young face was smooth, peaceful, and I smiled in spite of myself, resting a hand atop her mussed head; she deserved this uninterrupted rest.

Fierce whispers reached my ears from the main floor – for a while the indiscernible hissing was all I could hear. Then the front door opened and closed, and the M3 came to life again out in the garage. The click of high heels became audible, but barely, in Emmett's and Rosalie's room a couple of minutes after and then hurried packing commenced. These sounds were familiar to me; the two must have decided to leave for the rest of the day.

Hissing in that same room – furious and undecipherable – brought me up short. A slight ringing edge to the hissing voice helped me to identify Alice as the source. After a few moments of this, Rosalie hissed back at her sister, twinges of a snarl deepening the sound. It continued this way for several minutes, steadily turning nastier, and no one could doubt that whatever they were saying, it was not friendly chatter.

I stood swiftly and would have intervened at that point, had Bella not stirred fitfully from her sleep, thrashing out a bit and mumbling something incoherent. Slipping back to her side, I ran my fingers continuously over her dark hair, eventually soothing whatever upset had disturbed her rest. With a deep sigh, I sat back down next to her, facing the door, and reluctantly allowed Alice and Rosalie to settle the matter under their own steam. The muffled tirade did subside after a time, and while Rosalie slipped downstairs and outside to Emmett, Alice came up to the third floor. Her lithe steps led her into the open doorway and it was very easy to tell how upset she was as Emmett and Rosalie sped off into the dark.

"What's wrong, Alice?" I asked lowly, glancing at Bella to ensure she slept soundly still.

"Rosalie is just…" she began to say in the same hiss she employed against the vampire in question, paused to think, then wrinkled her nose unpleasantly. Apparently there was not an appropriate word she could think of with which to describe her sister.

"As terrible as all that?" I teased with a hint of a smile, choosing the low road until Alice felt less inclined to hissing her words.

"Well, you know what I mean, anyway," Alice sighed, coming to my side and sliding up behind me. Her tiny chin rested suddenly on my shoulder, overlooking her friend. For a long while, we both sat in comfortable silence, until Alice stiffened. Turning marginally, I found her eyes unfocused, face blank, breathing stopped. A vision, then. Although hopefully a pleasant one.

"Oh," her surprised voice popped up soon after, bringing my gaze back to her perky features. "That's nice."

"Hmm?" I questioned with mild interest. My hope for a pleasant vision seemed to be coming true.

"School's going to be called off for the next couple days," Alice announced, sounding marginally happier. "Flooding and electrical problems. Bella can sleep in now."

"That's very good." I smiled, pleased that at least the young woman would catch up on her rest.

"Did Bella wake up earlier?" Alice asked, quite at random, setting her chin back atop my shoulder.

"You don't know already?" Teasing as I was, it was with more than a little surprise that I noticed, from the corner of my eye, the vicious scowl that overtook my daughter's face.

"I'm sorry," I quickly apologized, frowning at yet another sign of my family's unhappiness. "I didn't mean to ridicule."

"Oh, it's not you," she mumbled, slapping my arm irritably. I would be lying if I said it did not sting a little bit. "Everything's not always your fault, you know."

"When my daughter scowls immediately upon my making a comment, I am inclined to think said comment was the trouble," I snapped uncharacteristically, more exasperated than usual. So much was being kept from me lately, it was hard to tell what anyone actually thought anymore.

"Well—" Alice spoke abruptly, almost rudely, then stopped just as suddenly, her chin slipping off my shoulder. Another vision, and a long one – Alice remained unfocused for enough time that I turned away again – overtook her. She would come around.

So she did, evidenced by the return of her breathing, but she remained silent and still. When I could no longer stand the awkward silence, I turned around on the spot to face her completely. An emotion I could not recognize filled her eyes, one that had never before been directed at me by my excitable daughter.

"Alice?" I asked uncomfortably, raising a brow in question. Rarely did Alice, of all my children, hold back what she wished to say; perhaps only because she knew precisely what she should and should not say based on her extra sight, but I could not be certain of that.

"Nevermind," she spoke quietly, almost regretfully, mouth pinched with tension.

"Have I lost that much with all of you?" I asked in a sudden splash of anguish which I could not hold back. One of the most challenging fears of my existence sprung up, unwelcome but irrepressible. "Do you mistrust me?"

"I trust you," Alice assured me furiously, though sympathy filled her eyes and she reached over to take my hands firmly in her own. "We all do. After Edward leaving, the three of us going to Italy, and all the other troubles we've had lately… It's just going to take time to sort out everyone's problems. Be patient a little while longer and everything will make sense; everything will work out. I promise."

"Forgive me," I immediately responded with embarrassment, gently tugging my hands from her smaller fingers and turning to face Bella's sleeping form once more. "A foolish thing to say, was it not? I don't know where it came from."

In light of my daughter's honesty, the seeming irrationality of my queries forced a flood of shame through me. Yet I could not look her in the eye as I pretended to throw out my own lingering insecurity. Too much truth had rung in my voice when the doubts escaped my lips.

Vaguely, I heard the rumble of the jeep firing up out in the garage.

"I know," came the agonized whisper from Alice and a moment before she disappeared, my smallest child laid the lightest of touches to my head.

Shadows of Alice's touch lingered on my bowed head and her simple reply echoed in my ears long after she had gone – not only from the room, but off in the jeep with whom I presumed was Jasper. My eyes strayed to Bella's peaceful face, my fingers to her long dark locks, and there they remained until the barest of light shone through the vast windows, drably illuminating my seated position at Bella's side and a gray-tinged skyline that would provide plenty more rain before the day even began. Leaving the sphere of my many contemplations – frustrated by the continued silence of my family and wishing already for the answers Alice claimed I would eventually come to know – was far simpler than I had imagined it might be. Reality came quietly into the room, in the form of my bronze-haired son.

"Edward," I greeted aloud with the softest of voices, though I did not turn to face him, nor did I remove my hand from Bella's hair.

"Did she wake at all?" he murmured equally as soft, and I could sense his eyes, screening his young love's face carefully while stepping up to my left.

"No. She barely stirred in all this time." Since the brief movement during Alice's and Rosalie's argument much earlier that morning, Bella had not moved again, save the easy inhale and exhale of her lungs. "Alice told you about school?"

"Yes," he agreed. There was a pause, filled with nerve-wracking discomfiture, until at last Edward settled on further conversation. His tone left much hanging in the air between us, much that had gone unsaid yet was expressed somehow in his vague inquiry, "Have you sat here the whole time?"

"Of course," I answered in some bewilderment. Was that not what he asked of me? I could not have misheard, could I? "Just as you asked."

'Was that not what you wished?' I could not help asking in my mind. Still, I did not turn to him.

Lest my imagination played tricks on me, it seemed his hand strayed to rest upon my shoulder, but the weight merely hovered in the air for several pregnant moments and then it was gone before ever having fallen. The knowledge somehow made me feel even more downhearted that I already did.

"I—" Edward began to say, and then stopped as bluntly as the drop from a cliff-side.

"Yes?" I prompted patiently after a beat, eyes purposely trained on the sleeping girl and not upon my son. His face, his expression, his stance… all of it would likely force me to confess the lonely, dejected things I had been considering during my stint at Bella's side. That was not something I could do yet.

"I didn't mean that you—" He changed tack so abruptly that I was momentarily blindsided, "You could have laid next to her."

This odd statement was blurted out a little louder than required for my hearing to catch. In a way, it came off as a reprimand or a reproach, but at the same time not so. From what I knew of my first son, it was more like he was giving me permission. Permission for what, I could not tell.

"I did not think of it," I confessed.

"Oh," he conceded simply, sounding as embarrassed as I was confused.

Matters between us had indeed become awkward. Before the dramatic tensions that were unearthed the past week, the two of us would not have really withheld our thoughts from one another like this. We often talked, of everything and nothing. Edward had long been my companion in this way and I had never imagined years or difficulties could ever change it. Now, I could not bring that certainty to the forefront of my mind. Despair gripped me tightly in its bonds, and this time I admitted to myself it would not be so easy to dispel. In that moment, I was glad to be blocking Edward's ability.

"I shall go now, if you are up here to stay," I decided to say, the accent of my youth creeping in as the rain pattered anew upon the windows. Perhaps 'pattered' was a bit too mild a term to describe the weather, actually; more like a downpour of intense ferocity.

"I'm here to stay," Edward agreed slowly, subtle undertones to his words that I did not quite understand at first, "but you… you don't have to rush off…"

Finally, the prior 'permission' made sense. Inviting me to lie beside Bella, even to perhaps hold her comfortingly as I had done only a few times before, was a means of making me feel I was welcome in Edward's presence, in his room, in his life. That was his ultimate meaning; he did not wish me to feel brushed off. And I did not want anyone, least of all Edward, to feel obligated to coddle me. That was another reason I was happy to be hiding my thoughts form him. Surely he would feel doubly obligated if he had been listening to my mind up until then.

"I'll be heading to the hospital in little more than an hour, anyway," I hedged. It was true enough, despite my rare lack of energy for the work I so often found peace in. Seeing my son was about to call me out, I went on to softly say, "Might I ask what you spoke with Esme about?"

"It's all been settled," Edward said cautiously. "We've agreed to disagree on the matter."

A few beats passed in awkward silence. Neither of us had moved an inch from our places since Edward had entered the room. And now both of us realized we were intentionally evading each other, unwilling to expose our secrets at the present time. To hopefully avoid any more discomfort, I changed topics even more quietly than before, "Did Rosalie or Alice give any indication of where they were going? I have unfortunately not been paying much attention to everyone's goings-on the past few hours. You know how I can be when I am lost in thought."

In an instant, Edward was sitting on the other side of Bella, looking me full in the face even as I avoided his gaze.

"I do know. An earthquake would fail to shake you when you're off in your own head," he remarked wryly. For a precious few seconds we were the same as ever and nothing had dampened our bond. I allowed myself to look at Edward directly and so many emotions gathered in his topaz eyes I could not even name them all. The precious seconds were quickly lost between us.

"Rosalie didn't think of anything definite," he went on as though nothing had happened. "So I guess they'll just drive until they find a place she wants to stay tonight. Of course, Alice might know where they'll end up, but she's blocking me very extensively, so I wouldn't know. And Alice didn't say anything specific of where she planned to go, either."

"Is Esme outside?" I asked curiously. Now that the thought entered my mind, I was surprised that she had not come up to me after Edward finished speaking with her.

"Ah… she and Alice are still looking for a bed. For my room, for Bella, you know," Edward dodged. Rather unsubtly, too. But it was also divulged so reluctantly. As if Esme and Alice looking through catalogues directly correlated to Esme being outside. I knew I was missing some vital clue, but it stubbornly eluded me.

"Yes, I knew that. What of it?"

Again, Edward looked very uncomfortable and reluctant. After a deep breath he did not need, he answered. "Esme left with the others a little while ago."

Nature itself seemed to fall silent in the stillness that encompassed me at this news. Within a minute of my shock abating, however, a tumultuous outpouring of thunder and wind and rain began to pour again from the heavens outside. After barely greeting each other for five minutes, Esme already headed out again? Did she wish to be away from me? Was I too forceful in my questioning earlier?

Questions, endless questions, traveled at high velocity through my mind until I felt pure mental exhaustion creeping in.

"Oh," was all I could say. No words were available to me that described the sick sort of feeling in my stomach.

"She… she just…" Edward feebly attempted to explain in some way, but I held up a hand to forestall his defense and he fell instantaneously silent. Esme could do as she wished; I did not hold it against her if she felt more comfortable spending time elsewhere. Wildly, I tried to imagine a reason for her distance that did not include my own foolish failures to be a good husband for her, but none came to mind I could safely digest.

Ringing from elsewhere in the house interrupted the difficult moment like a wayward canon. Edward and I shared a brief, indecipherable look, before I rushed out of the room and followed the ringing into my office. The familiar number made everything clear and also made me happy Edward stayed up in his room with Bella. Taking extra care to keep my mind completely blocked, I answered very quietly, with no hint of my continuing upset showing through in my voice, "Yes?"

"You're getting the day off work," Alice answered me just as quietly, without preamble. "Charlie is calling the hospital in a few minutes to ensure you can be there for Bella today and tomorrow."

"Quick thinking," I praised the absent chief of police.

"Just head up to the hospital sometime this morning to collect some paperwork," Alice added, "Bailey will have a sheet for you to sign and then you're free. He's actually quite glad to give you even more time off, since it's Charlie asking. Bella's threats work pretty well."

She giggled over the line, amused by the sudden reverence Stephen Bailey felt for my health and sanity – ever since Bella's intervention, for which I was grateful and amused in equal measure.

"I shall be sure to do that," I responded simply, when an idea entered my mind. Edward had mentioned Esme and Alice were shopping for a bed. Esme must have left with Alice and our daughter could pass on a message. I was reluctant to suggest it, but if it helped? "Could you… tell Esme something for me? I just wanted apologize for… for earlier this morning. It was not my intention to bully her in any way. She is, of course, at perfect liberty to keep things to herself as she chooses. I only worried about her. She seemed very troubled, so naturally I was keen to help take a load off her shoulders."

There was pause over the line after the words escaped my mouth – so brief that it was almost nonexistent – then a tentative inhale, and it became plain that whatever Alice said, it would not be the truth. Not completely. "I'll tell her. I promise."

Alice was too bright, too reassuring, to be believed. "She's not with you, is she?" I whispered into the receiver, terrified to admit where I thought my wife really was. If Esme was where I believed her to be, then she was – as I had fearfully suspected – unable to trust me. The very idea made me feel ill, weak-kneed, and helpless. To compensate the unusual sensations, I sank with something like clumsiness into one of the chairs before my desk.

"Esme left with Emmett and Rosalie. She'll be meeting me at nine-twenty-three," Alice acknowledged miserably. Some distant part of me amused itself with her ability to be precise even when she felt terrible about the facts she was purporting.

"She's with Rosalie and Emmett," I stated, rather than asked, still barely whispering.

"Yes," was the timid, unhappy reply.

Immediately, I moved to change the subject to an easier, though useless, plane of conversation. "You will tell Esme what I said, will you not?" It simply hurt too much to consider the former topic. For I knew very well what it meant if Esme was spending time with Rosalie like this. Our long absence from Forks was branded into my mind for a number of reasons, but this was one of the most damaging. It became symbol of the breaks both my family and my marriage had faced. None of which had ever healed properly.

"Carlisle." Alice sounded alarmed, and rightly so, but I could not bring myself to care at the moment.

"You will tell her?" I insisted in a hard, unyielding tone completely unlike me. This was too much to discuss rationally at present. "Like you promised you would do?"

"Yes, of course, Carlisle," Alice concurred exasperatedly, desperately clinging to some semblance of reason with which to calm me, "but you know how it was at the time. She's not going to stay that way for—"

"Thank you, Alice." The abrupt dismissal was completely mechanical, a means to keep my emotions from falling apart as long as I could. "Goodbye."

"Bye, Carlisle," Alice sighed sadly and then the dial tone invaded my ears for so long I faintly imagined my phone had gone dead in the ensuing wait.

Frigid moments from our extended stay in Ithaca crept into my mind, unbidden. Edward would surely see them before I cordoned them off… I should not let him see them. I should not. Enough burdens were on his back and these memories did not need to be added to them. My tormented son had done what he believed to be right by leaving poor Bella. No matter what the rest of our family had gone through, the responsibility of ultimately uprooting all of us was mine and mine alone. The guilt lay at my feet, for the repercussions we faced in Ithaca. Edward need not feel guilty over our challenging attempt at survival while living there.

Colossal effort was required to push away my reminiscence – positively gargantuan – but I fell back against the chair with a sigh of depressing satisfaction that I was able to withhold these unfortunate memories from my tortured son.

A/N: Well, this encapsulates everything that is happening at this particular moment in time. Carlisle sure is messed up right now. :/

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