It was almost lunch time but I hadn't seen Carlisle at all this morning.
Worried, I went in search of him.

"Hey." I sat next to him on the bed, resting my head on his shoulder.
"Hey," he mumbled, kissing my hair.
"What are you doing still up here?" I questioned after a moment of silence, sliding my arms around his waist and reaching up to kiss his cheek.
Immediately I knew I had made a mistake; his face became guarded and he stiffened where he was sitting, but I wasn't sure which of my actions it was.
"Um…nothing- just…nothing." He looked away, becoming despondent as he studied the back wall. He shifted his weight so there was more space in between us.
"You can tell me, sweetie."
"I know." He offered nothing else. After another minute or so he pulled away from me completely, moving to lean against the wall. When I moved to sit next to him he hugged his legs, making it hard for me to lean on him or put my arms around him comfortably.
"What's going on, Carlisle?" I pressed, a little hurt by his unusual behaviour.
"Nothing, Esme, just leave me alone, okay?" he mumbled, getting up to move away from me.
His words stung and a lump formed in my throat. "Can you at least tell me what I did?" I asked shakily. I stifled a sob. He didn't want me anymore?
Straight away he had his arms around me, hugging me tightly. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean it like that." He sat again and pulled me into his lap, kissing me again and again. "I'm sorry- please don't hate me," he begged, sounding almost in tears.
I smiled, instantly happy again. "I could never hate you, Carlisle Cullen. I was just worried I upset you, that's all."
"Of course you didn't. You're perfect, as always." He smiled too but I could tell he wasn't entirely happy. "I love you."
"I love you too." I cuddled into him, knowing that he'd probably want to move but wanting to make the most of it before he did.
He softly swept my hair off my face, running his hand down my back. "Promise me you'll never think I don't love you," he murmured, tightening his grip on me.
I giggled. "I promise."
He didn't say anything but lent into me so I couldn't see his face.
We stayed like that for what seemed like forever, or at least until I couldn't sit still another minute.
"Sweetie, I need to get up," I told him, patting his hands to remind him he was still holding me.
He let go and dropped his hands into his lap, knotting his fingers together. He seemed lost, confused.
"Do you want to come downstairs for a while?" I suggested.
He shrugged before shaking his head, looking away again.
I frowned; this was very unlike him. "Come on, Carlisle, just for a little bit," I tried to convince him, mostly so I didn't have to let him out of my sight.
He watched me unsurely before slowly standing up.
I slid my hand into his and led him out of the room.

Over the next few hours I tried to pull him into almost every conversation but he wouldn't say anything, either nodding or shaking his head instead of verbally answering. Apparently I wasn't the only one that noticed it.
"You don't speak much, do you, Cullen?" Liam asked meanly.
Siobhan glared at him, digging her elbow into his ribs.
"What?" he snapped at her.
"Leave him alone," she quipped quietly.
"But-"
"Enough," she growled.
He sighed and rolled his eyes.
She gave me an apologetic smile, her anger at her husband still obvious.
Carlisle didn't seem to have noticed or at least didn't care. He stared blankly out the window, fidgeting nervously.
I put my arm around his waist, squeezing him a little bit. "Is something wrong, sweetie?" I asked him quietly.
He didn't respond, almost like he didn't know I had spoken.
"Honey?"
When he didn't react again I moved to stand in front of me, holding his face in my hands.
"Carlisle." I gently pressed my lips against his.
He snapped out of whatever daze he was in. "Y-yeah?" He spoke very, very quietly.
I giggled. "You're cute when you're confused."
He tried to smile but it faulted and fell.
"What?" I pushed his hair off his face. He glanced down at me but quickly looked away again. "Sweetheart what's happening?"
He shook his head and stepped back so we weren't touching anymore.
I frowned but let him do it.
He folded his arms and studied his feet.
Both Garrett and Alistair were throwing him anxious glances, picking up something was wrong as well.
Eventually he just went back upstairs, to get away from everyone I think.

Over the next few days his bizarre behaviour increased; he barely spoke to anyone, not even to me or Alistair, he refused to hunt, he wouldn't sleep and hardly ever left our room.
It scared me to death, mostly because I couldn't figure out what had happened to make him like this and I couldn't make it better because I didn't know what it was.

"What'd you do to your hand, sweetie?" I asked him carefully, trying to sound positive. It was partly because I was genuinely curious but mostly because I wanted to get him talking.
He ripped down his sleeve, hiding the bruising and the scratches, and looked up at me. His eyes were wide and frightened, dark from a week of not hunting.
"Hey, Carlisle, it's okay, love. It's just a question; you don't have to tell me." I sat next to him on the bed and rubbed his leg.
He flinched when I touched him and then jerked away from my touch.
"It's okay- honey it's only me…" I reached toward him again but he sort of slid off the bed to get away from me, backing himself into a corner and hyperventilating. "Shh, it's alright. Calm down." I started to approach him again but he looked so afraid I stopped myself and just watched him helplessly.
Within minutes he was shaking violently.
"Alistair," I called uncertainly.
"Yeah?" he appeared a minute later.
"Carlisle's freaking out but he won't let me near him…" I wanted to cry again; it hurt so much to see him upset but not being able to help him.
Alistair frowned. "What happened, buddy?" he asked softly, trying to come closer to him.
Carlisle panicked, glancing around the room for an escape.
"No, hey, I'm not going to hurt you?" he told him, looking confused. "It's okay, Carlisle."
He dissolved into tears, his whole body trembling.
Alistair took the opportunity to grab him, pulling him up and making him sit on the bed.
I sat beside him and hugged him tightly, ignoring him when he tried to push me away. Even if he didn't want it I needed to do it.
Suddenly Siobhan was there as well. "You're alright. Take some deep breaths, okay? You're going to make yourself dizzy."
He struggled to do as she said but couldn't stop hyperventilating.
"It's just a panic attack, it'll be gone soon," she assured him, rubbing the tops of his arms.
He squirmed as if it was uncomfortable, biting his lip.
"Are you hurt, love?" I asked him, pushing his hair off his face.
"N-no," he mumbled, wiping his face but failing to keep it dry.
I wasn't sure if I believed him or not.

Despite what Siobhan said he was still a complete mess three hours later. Although he had managed to stop the tears and could breathe normally, he sat on the edge of our bed bolt upright. He still trembled and had gone into an almost catatonic state. He didn't move aside from fidgeting with the edge of his sleeves and he wouldn't speak to anyone. He seemed scared of absolutely everybody but he didn't run from us like he did before.
Toward midnight Liam came and lent against the doorframe, smirking at his. His expression was harsh, cruel.
"What's his problem now?" he sneered.
"Go away, Liam, you're not helping," I snapped, beyond angered with him. Somehow I blamed him for Carlisle's current state although I hadn't witnessed him doing anything to him.
"Aww, come on. What's wrong? Having a nervous breakdown, are we, Carlisle Cullen?" The way he said my husband's name made it sound like it was filthy.
"Get out," I demand, almost yelled but trying to control myself.
"Fine, if that's what you really want. But it won't fix him; he's too screwed up for that." He rolled his eyes and disappeared, leaving me to try and figure out what he meant by 'too screwed up'. Carlisle wasn't screwed up. He was completely normal aside from being more human than he used to be.
Somehow I didn't think that was what he was referring to.
"You know, maybe he has a point," Alistair murmured.
I jumped, startled; I hadn't even realised he was there. "What do you mean?" I asked hotly, very defensive over my Carlisle.
"I mean, what if he really is sort of having a nervous breakdown, but just to a lesser extent…" He was very quiet, cautious.
As much as I wanted to protest, the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like he was right. "Oh Carlisle, what happened to you?" I whimpered, knowing he wouldn't answer me. I pulled myself as close to him as I could get but he just sat there numbly, watching the floor. When I kissed him I didn't get a response, no acknowledgement.
Alistair was watching us with a puzzled expression and a look of shock on his face.
"What?" I asked him.
He swallowed hard and stood, coming to stand directly in front of us. When he reached toward Carlisle his hands shook. He slowly pulled back the collar of my husband's shirt, never taking his eyes off his face.
I glanced down.
Dark bruises wrapped around my husband's neck. Handprints, I realised with horror.
I burst into tears; why would anyone want to hurt my Carlisle? Why would they do this? I hugged him tighter as if I could somehow protect him from the things that had already happen.
Alistair, on the other hand, snapped. "LIAM!" he screamed. The sound raised goose bumps across my skin; I had never seen him so angry. He stormed down the stairs.

A little bit longer and a bit more unpredictable than I thought it was going to be but it's DONE!
Reviews if you would be so kind (: