This Time Around

by chainofcommand

Will not finished.

4. Carlisle Cullen

Here you are! Carlisle is finally here in the flesh! Sort of.

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Chapter Four: Carlisle Cullen

It took Charles' private detective nearly a month to track them down. Charles turned up and the events nearly nine years ago were repeated. Plus two terrified children.

Once again, an argument erupted causing Esme to go into premature labour when she was barely seven months pregnant.

This time, the baby did not survive.

When Esme woke up, it was to find a very familiar, but very unexpected face smiling down at her.

'Hello, Esme. Welcome back.'

'Carlisle - Dr Cullen. It was definitely him. Eight years had passed. Carlisle Cullen was an experienced doctor now, but he looked exactly the same. A few more laughter lines may be, and more confidence - both in him as a person and as a doctor - but the kind eyes and soft smile of the handsome face were still there. He looked thrilled that she remembered him.

She had never forgotten him. First loves are not forgotten, even if they were unknown, unrequited and completely unfulfilled.

'What - what happened? Where are my kids?' Esme frowned, confused. She tried to shift through what she remembered, but it was not a lot, and it was not helpful. Her voice cracked as she spoke - she was suddenly aware of how thirsty she was.

Carlisle poured her a cup of water and she drank it while she explained. 'Your kids are safe. They are staying with me and my two children right now - the four of them get on superbly by the way.' Esme nodded, she was glad, both that her kids were safe and that they appeared to be happy. 'Your husband arrived at your house five days ago. You argued and he became violent. I'm sorry, Esme, but your child did not survive. A blow to the abdomen ruptured the umbilical cord. The child died even before the ambulance had arrived.'

Esme processed this slowly, pain growing by the second. 'How did - how did the ambulance know to come? Charles would not have called them.'

'Your son did. Edward called the police saying a man was in the house attacking you and that you were pregnant. The police arrested your husband and the ambulance brought you here.'

'Don't call him that.'

'Who?'

'Charles. Don't call him my husband. He is not my husband. He killed my baby.' Tears began to fall quickly down her face.

Carlisle looked down. 'Esme, I am sorry, but there is more. You yourself received extensive internal damage. To save your life we had to perform an emergency hysterectomy. You were hemorrhaging badly and -'

Carlisle broke off when Esme raised a hand. 'You don't have to explain. You saved my life. I know you did all you could have done. Thank you.' Please, stop talking, I can't take anymore.

Carlisle nodded, moved by her unwavering compassion. 'Can I do anything? It's the end of my shift but they told me you were waking up and I wanted to see if you needed anything.' I wanted to see you.

'Thank you, no. I just want to sleep before I see my kids.'

'Very well, this will help you sleep peacefully.' Carlisle injected something into her IV drip and Esme began to feel drowsy. 'Sleep well, Esme.' Dr Cullen had taken her hand in his.

'Mmmm,' was all Esme could manage. Just before she lost consciousness again, Esme noticed that Carlisle was not wearing his wedding ring.

Carlisle watched the woman sleeping. Five days had not been enough to make the bruises around her lips or eyes fade. He knew there were more bruises hidden by the hospital nightgown. Her belly was a mass of cuts and bruises. The largest was the cut he had made himself to remove her dead baby and then her womb. All the wounds large enough had been sutured first before her entire midriff was bandaged.

Once again, Carlisle wondered how anyone could stand to hurt a person like Esme. This time, he vowed, Charles was not going to drag her home; it had gone against Carlisle's every instinct to let that man bag Esme and baby Edward into a car and take them away, but there had been nothing Carlisle could do. This time however, Charles was going to go to prison. Even if Esme did not testify against him, Charles had committed irreparable damage and had killed Esme's baby. With Edward, there had been no lasting damage, he had not been starved of oxygen, and he bore no visible injuries because Charles had not hit Esme's stomach. This time though, Carlisle had more than a bad feeling to go to the police with. And this time, his superiors would not get in the way, being reluctant to get involved because Carlisle was the superior, not the naïve medical student armed with only good intentions and unbelievable compassion.

He stroked the caramel-coloured locks, moving them away from her face. He was over-stepping his boundaries, both professional and personal, but he could not help it. He did not want t help it. After eight years of remembering she was finally here again and he wanted to make sure that he was not dreaming.

It was definitely time to go home.

It was half past six by the time he had picked up the kids and got all four of them home.

'Carlisle?' It was Edward, his young voice full of concern. He and Nessie had started by calling Carlisle 'Dr Cullen' but Carlisle had been quick to get them to call him by his first name. 'When can we see our mom?' He had asked this question every time he had seen Carlisle since the moment his mom had been admitted.

'Tomorrow if you like. She woke up briefly today, so she'll be able to talk to you whenever you want.' Edward sighed, relieved, in the backseat - it had been a very long wait for him.

'So can we come to work with you tomorrow and see her?'

'Yes, you can. But you must be careful not to wear her out, she is still quiet weak.' Edward nodded fervently and nudged Nessie, who smiled broadly. Nessie, Carlisle was quickly finding, was definitely a thinker more than a talker - she could go through the entire day without saying a word, but every word or action by others was filed away somewhere in her brain, to be pondered over later.

'Can we come too, Dad, me and Alice?' Emmett was eager not to lose his playmate and really wanted to meet Edward's mom, having spent the better part of a week hearing about her. Carlisle frowned, not angrily, just pensive, 'I don't know, Emmett. All four of you are probably too much for her right now.' And she just lost a child, so having to look after someone else's would be like getting kicked while you were down. With steel-toes army boots.

'You said yes to Edward!' Emmett said, indignant.

'She's his mother!'

'So?!' The volume in the car started to rise and Nessie squirmed, her brow furrowed and clutching Love. Edward put his hand on his sister's and tried to comfort her. Nessie hated any kind of raised voices - they brought back to many memories of her father. Carlisle moved to remedy the situation quickly, before she could become anymore distressed.

'You can come to drop Nessie and Edward off and say hello, but that is it.' Carlisle held his hand out. He was rewarded when Nessie put her tiny hand in his much bigger one; he gave it a quick, comforting squeeze before put his hand back on the wheel and watching the road again.

'Deal.' Emmett held out his hand and they shook on it. Then Carlisle left the kids in front of the TV so he could make dinner.

The next day, Carlisle kept his word and brought all four kids to see Esme. Her face lit up when her son and daughter catapulted themselves across the room towards her. They were careful not to jostle her as Carlisle had told them their mother would be quite sore for a while.

'Are you okay, Mommy?' Nessie asked, tucked into her mother's side. Edward was sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, eyeing the noticeably smaller mound of his mother's belly. He looked around the room as though he was trying to find something.

'Mom, where's the baby?' Edward remembered enough of Nessie's arrival to know that Mom got really big, taken somewhere, then came home smaller, with the baby in her arms. He did not know exactly how the baby got from the inside to the outside, or indeed how the baby got to the inside in the first place, but he supposed that is what doctors were for.

Carlisle took Alice and Emmett to get drinks for everyone while Esme explained what had happened to the baby. Carlisle had come in before in the morning to take Esme to see the baby in the morgue.

He had been beautiful, perfectly formed just like Edward had been. But Edward had not been deathly pale and ice-cold - Edward had not suffered from a severed umbilical cord and suffocated in the womb. Carlisle had never liked violence, in fact he abhorred it. But had Charles Evenson been in that morgue with then, Carlisle would have happily beaten him to oblivion. Instead, he had held Esme up when her knees gave out and comforted her as best she could as she cried, loud, heart-wrenching sobs - Carlisle had not known one could witness such depth of despair. He could barely stand to think what he must be like to feel.

Carlisle had picked up the children at lunch, visibly pale. They had been surprised when Carlisle had met them by sweeping them all into his arms and hugging them fiercely. Even Emmett had not been able to breathe in the face of such bone-breaking love.

They had spent the last five days being looked after by the nanny during the day and Carlisle at night. Edward and Emmett had hit it off straight away, Edward being thrilled that mess was allowed, indeed actively encouraged, in this house. Alice spent all her time doing different things to Nessie's long, bronze tresses. Nessie sat there patiently nodding and shaking her head as Alice's excited babble required, not letting Edward out of her sight. The one time Edward and Emmett had disappeared round the corner of the house, Nessie had let out such an ear-splitting shriek that Alice had jumped and fallen in the pond they were sitting next to. The nanny, a 67 year old Chicago native called Mrs. Phelps, had sprinted across the large garden to find a still screaming Nessie and a sopping wet, rather irate, Alice who was just climbing out of the pond. Carlisle had arrived home just in time to see the boys come running, Emmett accidentally ploughing into Mrs. Phelps, knocking them both to the ground. Edward had reached his sister and gently placed his hand on her cheek. The screams had ceased immediately and Nessie had thrown her herself at Edward. This had the unfortunate effect of knocking Edward backwards into Alice who ended up in the pond once more. Carlisle had had to fish her out and hold on to her so that his daughter did not launch herself at Nessie once she saw the state of her (no longer) white dress. Alice did not talk to Nessie for two days until she was promised she could pick Nessie's clothes and hairstyle for the next week. Nessie ended up looking like a china doll, but took it with good grace since Alice was talking to her again.

One the whole, Carlisle was rather glad Nessie did not talk more often.

Still, that was their first day all living together and it had got much better since then. Carlisle was thankful - Mrs. Phelps was three rugby tackles away from quitting again; Emmett was rather large and solid for his age. Nessie was once again Alice's favourite toy, though Carlisle noticed his daughter gave any body of water a wide berth when the younger girl was present. Bath-time became a slight issue.

Carlisle bought himself out of his reverie and brought a coffee for himself, a hot chocolate for Esme and juice for the children. Emmett was eyeing the soda, but the last thing Carlisle needed was his exuberant young son hyped up on sugar.

Emmett and Alice had a juice box in each hand while Carlisle negotiated the hot drinks. He used the short walk from the vending machine to Esme's room to plan what he would say to Esme. No one had wanted to put the kids into Care while Esme was in hospital in case Charles took them for leverage, so Carlisle had taken them home. Now he did not want them to leave.

Things had not been easy the last few years; Elizabeth's departure had left them all shell-shocked. He had not been able to understand how someone could leave their children. But then, Carlisle had never really understood Elizabeth. Elizabeth had been the type of person who needed to be needed. Carlisle had needed her, but not more than he needed his kids. When it was just the two of them it had been fine - Elizabeth had been his every waking thought. But then, after Emmett was born, Carlisle found his love for his wife second to his love for his son. In an attempt to fix their marriage, they had had Alice very soon afterwards - less than a year after Emmett's birth. This only made things worse - Emmett and Alice were now joint first in his heart and Elizabeth was still second. She could be second to the prized firstborn son, but not to a daughter. Elizabeth could never have a man need another woman more than he needed her.

What Elizabeth wanted was a man who would lay down his life for her. Carlisle was not that man anymore; he was determined to live, to look after his children, not die the way his own parents had - his mother at his birth and his father a few years later.

So Elizabeth had met an aspiring writer. Someone to whom she meant the world. Someone who did not want kids so would never want anyone more than he wanted her.

She had left a note on the kitchen table and walked away. At half three, Carlisle had got a call from the kindergarten saying Mrs. Cullen had not been to pick the kids up. Carlisle had raced home - something bad must have happened for Elizabeth not to pick up them up. When he got there, he found nothing - no Elizabeth, unconscious in a pool of blood, no signs of struggle, and no clothes belonging to his wife. Instead he had found a note: -

Carlisle

I have left with Laurent. The marriage was not working for me.

You can keep the kids - a book tour is no place for them. I will have my

Lawyers send the paperwork.

Elizabeth.

Lying next to the note had been her wedding and engagement rings. Emmett had been five, Alice four. Carlisle had wondered how he was supposed to explain to children that age that their mother did not want them - that she had probably never wanted them. He could not do it, so he had not. He had told them that Mommy and Daddy did not love each other anymore, but they loved their children very much, and that Mommy had thought it best that they stay with Daddy. It had taken months for his children to stop crying themselves to sleep, for all three of them to stop looking like zombies - pale and tired and barely holding it together.

But that was four years ago - they were doing better now. They had not seen Elizabeth since. Carlisle never thought he would be grateful for selfishness, or self-absorbance, nor abandonment, but he was - if Elizabeth had taken the kids, Carlisle did not know how he would have survived. Those two were his world.

Now his world had been expanded; Edward and Nessie had fitted in so perfectly it felt like they were meant to be there. Emmett had a boy to play with and Alice no longer had to blackmail someone into having a makeover - not that his little pixie was above a spot of blackmail when necessary.

They knocked on the door - Emmett thumped. Edward's voice sounded, 'come in', when they opened the door, Esme was lying against the pillows, a child tucked under each arm. Things were tense inside the room - sorrow hung in the air.

Completely oblivious to the atmosphere, Emmett came bounding into the room like the Tasmanian devil. 'Hey, Eddie, we have juice!' Emmett threw a juice box. Before Carlisle could berate his son for throwing sticky liquids across a hospital room, Edward had sat up and caught the carton neatly. He passed it to his sister before catching the one chucked by Alice.

Carlisle put Esme's hot chocolate on her bedside table, throwing his children a look that clearly said 'that is how we pass drinks.' He turned to Esme, 'I could not get tea and coffee would be too hard on your system. It would not be a good idea with all the sedatives you have been on either.'

'You're the doctor,' Esme said, with a tired smile.

'The kids really wanted to see you but if you need to rest, I can take them home.' His words were greeted with a loud chorus of denials.

'It's alright with me. I want to see them, too.' Esme smiled at the children, all of whom were looking at her. 'You guys won't be too much, will you?' They all shook their heads. 'You will be good and keep me entertained, yes?' There was a round of enthusiastic nods. Esme looked at Carlisle, 'I think we will be just fine.'

'If you're sure,' he looked wryly at Emmett, who had never sat still for more than five minutes in his life, always finding something to discover and explore.

'I am sure. You go; your lunch break must be over by now.'

Carlisle looked at his watch; his break had finished ten minutes ago. 'You're right. But you are also a patient so this counts as an examination - ensuring you are not stressed.'

The next ten minutes were filled with Carlisle updating Esme's chart, checking her vitals, asking whether she or her children wanted to see the grief counsellor. Esme said it would not be necessary. Something in the way she said it suggested there may be more to it, but Carlisle decided to leave it for another time - the children were listening very closely.

True to their word, however, they were behaving impeccably, occupying themselves with a pack of cards at the table. When Carlisle announced she was fine, Edward stopped looking over to check on his mother and concentrated on the game - Emmett's winning strike came to a spectacular finish.

'We will keep you in for observations but you are healing nicely. A few more days and you can be discharged.'

'Then we can all go home!' piped up Alice. The eight year old had already figured it all out in her head. All her other friends had a father and a mother; since she and Emmett only had a father, and Edward and Nessie only had a mother, it made sense to combine forces and share parents.

Esme looked slightly startled at the announcement that she would be going home with her doctor, but she listened patiently to Alice as the spiky-haired child outlined her plan. Carlisle shook his head at his daughter's single-minded determination to have order and excused himself from the room, taking the time to remind everyone not to wear Esme out.

Carlisle tried to focus on his work but he found it difficult. Every so often his mind would wander to the room his family occupied - smiling when he realised he had already seemed to encompass Edward, Nessie and their beautiful mother into that category. Carlisle had to admit that, on the surface, Alice's plan was perfect. If you discarded Esme's abusive husband, his experiences with his ex-wife, the complete impropriety given that Carlisle was her doctor and the complexities of an adult relationship.

Perhaps, Alice's plan was not as simple as it first appeared.

Finally, his shift was over. He opened the door to Esme' hospital room. Before he could open his mouth, however, Alice hissed, 'shhh!' - he was interrupting a Snap tournament of epic proportions. From the looks of the tournament table filled with Esme's elegant script, it had begun not long after Carlisle had left them and had lasted all afternoon.

'It's the final,' Esme mouthed at him.

'I see,' Carlisle mouthed back. Esme smiles at him and Carlisle was struck dumb for a moment. She was simply . . . radiant. He recovered quickly and moved to sit on the foot of the bed. Emmett and Edward's eyes never moved from the pile of cards in the centre of the table - the one that usually held Esme's food at mealtimes and had been appropriated to become The International Playing Surface. They cut to see who would go first this time and Emmett won. Esme dealt the cards and the final began.

It was interesting to watch. A silence descended that rivalled those Carlisle usually experienced in open heart surgery. When one won the pile, his sister would give out a loud 'whoop!' When Edward finally won the pack, Nessie cheered, nearly falling backwards off the bed. Esme and Carlisle both lunged at her, Carlisle catching her before she could topple off. Esme put a hand to her side, clearly in pain.

Carlisle ordered the kids off the bed and pushed the table away. Emmett laid a restraining hand on Edward's shoulder, something Edward did not seem to altogether appreciate. Alice held Nessie's hand while Carlisle eased Esme's hospital gown up her body. His body blocked Esme from the children's view - something that irritated Edward no end - so they could not see the myriad of cuts and bruises on her torso. He eased the gown up to reveal a particularly nasty cut on Esme's side, just below her ribcage - a very sensitive area of skin.

She winced as his fingers gently probed the sore skin around the wound. She drew in a breathe between clenched teeth as Carlisle's fingers got closer to the ruptured skin. At the sound, Edward pounced, planting himself between Carlisle and his mother. He look was so fierce that Carlisle instinctively backed up a couple of paces to give Edward space.

The boy was a natural fighter. Without any kind of training, at the age of eight, he had taken a fighting stance. On the balls of his feet, legs slightly bent into a crouch, hands in front of him ready to push Carlisle away from Esme. Even his teeth were bared.

'Edward,' Carlisle crouched down so he was eye to eye with the boy, his palms raised so Edward could see his hands. 'I am not going to hurt your mother. I had to do that to make sure she hadn't pulled out any of her stitches. You understand?'

Edward gave him a long, hard look before nodding. He eased out of his crouch slowly, not taking his eyes off Carlisle, then swung himself onto the bed next to Esme.

Carlisle stood up himself and continued to check Esme's stitches. Edward watched him, eagle eyes not missing a single movement. Esme reached out and stroked Edward's messy auburn hair. Edward lent into her hand and Carlisle would not have been surprised if he had started to purr.

From mountain lion to kitten with a single touch. He was impressed by the obvious affection and loyalty Edward showed his mother. But still, he was only eight years old. He should not have to see his mother like this - covered in bruises and clearly in pain.

He seemed to read Carlisle's mind. When Carlisle looked up, Edward was already looking at him. 'It's bad.' Carlisle nodded. 'But not a bad as it had been. Apart from the baby.' He looked away sadly - he had accepted the baby's fate, appeared to understand the situation but felt he should have done more. His father was the one person he was too afraid of to fight. He seemed so much older than eight - the burden of his childhood, Carlisle supposed, he had to grow up fast.

Carlisle eased the nightgown back down and announced that everything was fine. 'No fast movements though,' he told Esme.

Edward slid of the bed and walked over to the other three. Emmett still looked faintly awed by Edward's actions. But then, Emmett was a born brawler.

The lion and the bear, Carlisle mused. However will Mrs. Phelps survive? He grinned and Esme asked him what he was thinking. He inclined his head towards their four youngsters, 'just wondering how many nannies this lot will get through.'

Esme shrugged, 'I'm sure Mrs. Phelps can last a week. Then I'll be there.'

Carlisle nodded, wondering how many times Mrs. Phelps would quit before Esme arrived to save her.

At least three a day. She was always quitting, Always quitting but never leaving.

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Phew, longest chapter so far! I will try and make them a little bit shorter for you.