Disclaimer: Yes Yes...these are not my characters. They are SM's.

A/N: Thank you to all the reviewers. Are you guys still enjoying this? I love this chapter, actually cried while doing it - maybe cause it's Carlisle. He's portrayed as a really strong character in TW ( 2 reasons - he's the head of the honcho, and he's a doctor) but .....I like to think he's not unbreakable. And so I tested that idea here. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Tell me what you think and review ( honestly please do..)

Summary: Carlisle realises something. He's only a dad...

Chapter 8: Powerless

Monday

Carlisle POV

The boys left today. To a degree I was relieved, especially with Edward and Bella. They had classes to attend to. But it was now just Esme and myself. And right now, I wasn't sure Esme was able to fill the supportive role Jasper needed. If yesterday's event was anything to go by, Jasper was going to go through some highs and lows during his treatment and he would need all the support he could get from his family. I couldn't blame him, wouldn't even think of that. That son of mine couldn't hide his feelings even if he tried. I didn't know if it was necessarily a good thing or not - to wear one's heart on the sleeve. Pretty vulnerable spot, I'd say. Maybe that was why I'd always felt a little more protective of him all these years.

He'd certainly grown into his own person since he left for college and especially since going to New York by himself. I was more than delighted when I noticed this change in him when he came back for Christmas last year. I bet he still wore his heart the same way, the only difference being he was much stronger now. To say I was proud of him was an understatement. He'd achieved so much in the last 5 years.

Maria Torres. That name still brought out the taste of bile in my mouth. I was not someone who could hate a person easily, but she was an exception. She, the woman who somehow managed to snake her way into my son's life in his junior year of high school and in the short time they were together, pretty much destroyed every shred of dignity, self worth he had. If it weren't for his brothers - the thought of what he'd done to himself to "prove his love to her", what she did to him - still sent shivers down my spine to this day. It wasn't his fault – she was evil personified in a beautiful form. The vile twisted stories she must have planted into his naïve mind - how was he to know better? She was his virgin love, but he was merely a toy, a mere plaything for a 20 year old rich daddy's girl, a waste on good college education, trash in other words. Suffice to say, I was livid when I found out what she'd been doing to him. I had to put a restraining order against her so she'd stay away from him. We threw Jasper into rehab. For weeks he was a zombie, a shell of the boy he was not 9 - 10 months ago. It was not a memory we cherished, put it that way. By God's grace or maybe it was the sheer will of his two brothers, he survived that ordeal and came out still standing, even if partly damaged. It was a tough time the following year, I was only glad that he channeled all that negative energy into his studies even if he pretty much barked his way through his last year of school. Gone was the easy loving boy we were all used to, it wasn't easy for any of us. Only when he had left for college did he start regaining the spirit of the little boy Esme and I saw when we first laid our eyes on him years ago in Texas.

I wondered if that was the reason he was still without someone special in his life. Was he afraid to get too attached again? Both Emmett and Edward now had someone serious in their lives and as parents we wanted the same for all of them. We had been silently hoping he would find someone special in New York. I wondered if there was and he had simply neglected to tell us. And if he did, what would that person be thinking now, now that he had this illness to deal with, possibly for the rest of his future life. Leukemia - all forms of cancer for that matter, was not a disease you could cure and just forget like you would an appendicitis for instance. It would always be in the periphery. Relapse was a fearful word in a cancer survivor's life. It pained me to know that this word would forever haunt my 22 year old son's life henceforth.

22. Would he see his 23rd this year?

He asked me to help with the writing of his will today, after the boys had left. God, I nearly had a breakdown. What parent could accept the notion that their child might die before them?

My heart broke for my wife. I knew she was taking this hard. Watching her go to pieces when Jasper passed out last night was painful enough and I was pretty sure yesterday's event only brought back memories of her hospital time with Alex, those many years ago. I had to physically subdue her from going berserk. It was almost unfair to expect her to go through this again. But what could I do?

"Sweetheart,"

Esme's weak voice jolted me from my thoughts.

"Yes love," I answered, linking my hand with her tiny ones and giving her a gentle squeeze. I felt pathetic really, this was all I could do to help ease her distraught, her pain. Squeezing her hand like this. I wished there was more I could do!

"What did Jasper ask of you earlier?"

I froze imperceptibly. Do I tell her? Do I lie? I'd never lied to Esme, I wondered if I could start now.

"Carlisle?" She turned to look at me.

Why did I take so long to decide! And.. damn those brown eyes.

I sighed. Here goes.

"He.. he asked me to help with his will," I said as gently as I could. Now Esme was not a fragile woman, even if her size and mannerism indicated as such. She did not raise 3 impossibly hyper kids by being fragile. But now, now she looked so tiny and delicate, I was sure if I were to hug her tight, she would actually break into tiny little pieces. Her mouth puckered to a tiny 'o' and she went silent and looked away from me.

"Esme…" I called to her, barely a whisper. Just like that, her shoulders started shaking again.

"I'm sorry… I.." She started to say, but her voice had turned to sobs.

"Come here..shhh…shhh… there's nothing to be sorry about my love, nothing to be sorry about…" I pulled her to my chest and let her cry her anguish out, even as my hand ran down her wavy brown mane repeatedly, hoping that the touch would somehow help ease the pain coursing through her.

It must have been an hour later when we returned to Jasper's room. He was sleeping and Jane was taking his vitals again.

"How is he doing?" I asked.

"His numbers are down. That's to be expected. He probably will need another transfusion tomorrow, but I'll check with Dr. Rodriguez first. We don't want to overdo it either."

"How are you?" She turned and asked Esme. She had been there with us last night.

Esme smiled a little. "I'm …hanging on," she answered honestly. Jane gave her an understanding look. She was obviously used to this.

"If you want to talk, anytime honey, you can page me okay?" She offered kindly. She reached an arm out from over Jasper's legs and squeezed Esme's extended hand quickly.

"Did he eat this afternoon?" She asked either of us.

"He ate a little bit. He mentioned that his throat was hurting when he swallowed." I reported. I knew what it was. Mucositis or the start of it. Jane nodded and made a note on the chart silently. Before leaving, she reminded us that we should probably try and make Jasper eat a little more tonight, before he was rendered totally unable to swallow anything because of the inflammation. It was one of the more unfortunate side effects of chemo.

It was closer to supper when Jasper woke up. His upbeat mood in the morning had disappeared, and he looked fatigued, even with the recent transfusion.

When his food came, we remembered Jane's advice and I tried to take charge this time around, thinking I could use my doctor badge to make him yield. He complained of feeling nauseated again. I frowned a little. I was really hoping we could force some food down on him. Without repeating yesterday's performance.

"No." He protested and scrunched his face. God, I swear he was channeling 8 year old Jasper again or maybe it was 10 year old Emmett, I wasn't too sure which. I had to smile at the memory.

"No.. please.." He begged as we tried to make him take a bite. Frustrating did not even describe my feeling right now. He was 22 and acting like a child. And he knew it!

"At this rate, we'll probably have to IV you," I said sternly, hoping he would take it as a threat. His eyes actually lit up, much to my dismay.

"As long as I don't have to visit the porcelain god again, I'll say yes to that," he answered hopefully. I looked at him dejectedly for a second before waiving it off. I should have relied on Esme's powerful eyes.

"How's the nausea?"

"Jane gave me something for it this morning… I'm going to ask for it again. I've got a headache…" He muttered and started rubbing the side of his temple. I came to his side immediately and placed the back of my hand to his forehead.

"You've got a slight temperature," I frowned, not liking what I found. I wondered if I was actually wrong about the mucositis and he was actually coming down with a throat infection. An infection was not ideal.

I paged Jane and Dr. R immediately.

"How's your throat?" I asked, switching to doctor mode automatically.

"A little sore, but so is my stomach and everything else," he said, pointing to his chest, indicating at his esophagus.

Jane came shortly after and took Jasper's temperature with a thermometer. She confirmed my prognosis.

"101.4°," she spoke just as Dr. R made his entrance.

I frowned even more. I did not like the sound of that.

"Jasper, how are you feeling son?" Dr. R asked as he checked his chart.

"OK…sort of..I've got a headache. Sore throat… actually scratch that – sore everything….I feel like my entire tract from my throat to my stomach is raw.." He reported glumly. Dr. R promptly scooted closer to him and checked his throat.

"I'm sorry about that… that happens normally as a result of the chemo. See what happens is…" He proceeded to explain to Jasper how chemo worked and how it affected cell development in one's body.

"We're going to keep watch of your fever for the next few hours, we want to bring it down and will check you for infection," he supplied stoically. He instructed Jane to start an IV of Cefapine, a broad spectrum antibiotic on Jasper immediately, just as a precaution. He was also given Tylenol for his headache and another drug - Zofram for his nausea. He also informed us that someone was going to take some blood and urine samples from him a short while later for cultures.

For the first time since Jasper was admitted, I felt true fear for my son.

Maybe it had something to do with my being a doctor – it probably had everything to do with it. Dr. R was very professional in his handling of this news, but I could see the concern etched on his brow. A fever was a fever on a normal person. But a fever on someone with basically zero defenses against any form of infection was bad news. Really bad news. I wondered if my son understood the gravity of this new development. Were I an architect or something else, I probably wouldn't feel as worried as I was now. This was going to be a long night. I prayed Esme did not see the uneasiness on my face. I didn't think I could handle worrying about Jasper's fever and her panicking at the same time.

"Don't worry Jasper, we'll be here monitoring you all the time. The best thing you can do is get as much rest as you can, try and sleep it off," Dr. R advised kindly.

It was a long night.

By the time midnight came, Jane had come by four times to check his temperature. And each time, his fever spiked just a little higher. By 2, his fever had gone up past 103°. They hadn't found any infection on him from the cultures. He was fed with a stronger antibiotic in an attempt to flush his fever out. He was feverish and rambling in his sleep. I became as distraught as Esme as we watched him helplessly try to fight the fever and whatever it was that was causing it. I had never felt so powerless in my life. I could only watch on the sidelines as my already sick son fought his battle alone.

God was on our side. Just after 3 a.m. he started sweating the fever off. He was getting the chills by then and they had to administer yet another drug into his already drugged up system. Jane was apologetic about it but emphasized that it was good news that the fever was flushing out.

I finally felt a fraction of what my poor Esme had gone through with her first child. It only made the pain I felt for her even worse. I thought I was strong. I barely made it out alive watching Jasper fight for his life this morning. How many times had she gone through sleepless nights of this maddening waiting game with Alex when he had had to fight his battles? I couldn't bear to think about it.

I left Esme when she finally dozed off from the exhaustion of waiting and worrying the whole night. I took off to the nearest exit and only when I knew I was alone did I cry my heart out silently.

************

Tuesday

JPOV

I woke up with the worst hangover ever.

What had happened?

It felt as though there were a 100 elephants going on rampage in my head. The light was hurting my eyes.

I felt groggy and ..oh shit.. nauseated again.

I called out for mom. I was shocked to find my voice so rough.

"Baby?"

I hadn't been called that for a long while. I could get use to that again. But she'd better not say that in front of my brothers, or I'd never hear the end of it.

"Hey mom…" I tried to speak out, but my throat was hurting so much that I ended up just rasping.

"How're you feeling?" She asked, pushing stray locks away from my face. I was mildly shocked that she sounded rough as well. I struggled to see her clearly; it was most probably due to the fact that my head was still being trampled by the elephants.

"Head hurts. Disoriented…water?" I asked. She promptly disappeared from my view and returned a short while later with a glass of water.

I sipped it slowly.

"What happened last night? Did they find out what the infection was?" I enquired. Truly my memory of the night before was blank.

"You don't remember?" She asked. I started shaking my head but promptly stopped when one of the elephants bumped the inside of my right temple and sent stabbing pain into my orbs.

"Your fever spiked dangerously last night.. they couldn't find out what was causing it.." She paused and took in a straggly breath.

"Oh mom… I'm sorry…" I exclaimed, realizing that my fever must have worried them to death. And here I thought, it was just a fever. I had to rethink my perspective of things, what with me having this illness now.

"We were so worried, we didn't know what to expect..it started coming down at about 3, I've never been so relieved when you started sweating.." She supplied, sniffing a little. I rubbed my hands up and down her arms, wanting to comfort her.

"I'm feeling better now mom… tired, but better..I promise," I assured her.

I wondered quietly where dad was.

A/N: Do we love Carlisle angst? Yes we do...... please review and tell me you did too...

yess..to all who wondered WTF is wrong with Rosalie..glee.... extra filler chapter for you guys. Review first!