Carlisle boiled water and made Esme a cup of tea. She still sat bundled up by the fireplace and tried her best to fit her entire body beneath the warmth of the blanket.

"Drink this," he urged, helping himself to a cup, as well.

"Thank you." She accepted the warm mug between her hands and closed her eyes as she took the first sip. "I'm not used to this."

Carlisle half-smiled at her. "I'm sorry for everything you've gone through." He shook his head and swallowed hard, "When I read the article this morning..." Again, he couldn't finish the sentence.

Esme noticed the bags under his tired eyes for the first time. "I'm sorry," she said again.

Carlisle finally managed a genuine smile . "I can't believe you're alive." He shook his head, and let the smile fade. "I felt responsible."

"What do you mean?"

He took a sip of the tea and stared back at her. "I felt like I should have done something more to help you."

"Carlisle, you couldn't have done anything," Esme assured him. "I mean if my own parents and the police couldn't help me, then what else could you have done? Gosh, I feel so guilty for doing this to you."

"You haven't done anything to me."

"I've got you stuck in the middle of the rut I've lived in for so long."

"You've done nothing wrong, Esme," Carlisle continued to reassure her, "When you care about someone, you help them... and I let you down the first time."

"Carlisle-"

"I could have done more," he went on, "I've spent all day thinking about how I could have saved you." Carlisle struggled to keep himself from letting tears fall and managed to keep them in.

Esme stared at him, "You've done more for me in the few months I've known you than anyone else has in my entire life. You listen... you care... I could see how much it bothered you to see what Charles did to me." Her eyes filled up with tears, "My own mother didn't care as much as you. I could see it in your eyes - in the way you interacted with me." She paused, "I feel it now."

Carlisle took a deep breath and eyed the ceiling for a moment as he continued the struggle to keep his emotions in tact. A single tear finally managed to escape the corner of his eye, though he wiped it away quickly.

"I'll make sure nothing happens to you like that ever again," he promised.

Esme looked down into her tea cup. "I realize that it completely unorthodox and inappropriate for me to be here-"

Carlisle cut her off again. "Esme, you being here is a blessing. You being alive is a blessing." He shook his head, "Besides if no one knows you're here then no one can care about it, or talk about it."

A small smile spread across her face and she took another sip from her tea. "I bet you're thinking how simple your life was before I walked into the doctor's office."

Carlisle shook his head. "I've never thought that." He paused, "The exact opposite actually."

Esme looked at him, and the serious nature of her one-word question made him see how low her sense of self-worth was because of Charles. "Why?"

He stared back at her, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes. "Because you're a strong, amazing woman, Esme."

She looked down and felt the tightening in her chest and throat that often occurred before she cried. Esme shook her head and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You don't believe that?" Carlisle asked her.

Esme wiped a few more tears away and continued to look down. "It's not the easiest thing to believe when you're told the opposite every day... and when your own parents wouldn't stand up for you."

"I wish you could see yourself through my eyes for just a few minutes," Carlisle told her. He cleared his throat. "Honestly, I feel guilty for the position I put you in when I kissed you, but I'd be lying if I said I felt more alive in that moment than I have in years. And before you came here, today was one of the worst days that I can ever remember."

Esme sat almost stone-like as he spoke, gripping her cup of tea with both hands.

"I know we've only known each other for a few months, but you've made an impact on my life that I can't accurate describe to you. I care about you. I've worried about you from the moment you came into the office."

"This is going to sound insane," Esme said, "But once I met you I almost didn't mind when I was sent to the doctor's office. You were my light at the end of a very dark tunnel."

Carlisle sighed and took a sip from his mug and leaned back in his seat again. He had no idea where things would go from here. He knew that Esme couldn't stay hidden forever in his home. She would be safe, but still a prisoner to her life to some extent. There were a number of unanswered questions that he didn't have at that moment, and decided that time would provide him with answers.

He rose from where he sat. "I'm going to run a warm bath for you. I'll leave towels in there and you can take your time. Get warm, get comfortable. If you need anything else just ask."

Esme didn't argue. She still felt the chill from being out in the cold for so long and the thought of taking a bath sounded great. "I appreciate everything you've done for me, Carlisle."

He nodded and headed down the hall, preparing warm bath water and leaving several towels out for her to use afterwards. When he returned to the living room he waved Esme in his direction.

"Are those clothes alright?" Carlisle asked.

"These are fine, yes," she responded with a nod. "Thank you."

"Okay." He pointed into the bathroom. "The tub is filled. You can add more water or do whatever it is you need to do. Use whatever you want."

"Okay." Esme nodded, still clutching onto the blanket he'd given her.

Carlisle took a deep breath, "I'm going to put some fresh sheets on the bed and get the heavier quilt I have in the closet. You can sleep in there. I'll sleep in the living room."

"No," she began to protest, "I'll take the living room."

"Get a good night's sleep," Carlisle told her, "I fall asleep reading out here every now and then, so it's not something I'm not used to." He could see she was about to argue the idea with him again, "I insist... please."

Esme realized she wouldn't win the argument, and knew that Carlisle was too much of a gentleman to have her sleep on the couch in the living room. "Alright."

Carlisle half smiled and turned to walk down the hall to give Esme her privacy she needed.

He went down to his room, made the bed as he said and laid out the heaviest blanket he had over the top. He then proceeded to pull down the shades on the rare chance that somebody might walk by and see Esme sleeping in the room. Carlisle then found another blanket and a spare pillow and set himself up on the couch in the main room.

For awhile he laid there staring at the ceiling. His thoughts were racing, and he couldn't help but think what the future held for him, and for Esme. The silence was deafening and he felt how his heart was racing despite how still he laid, and how quiet the house was. There wasn't a sound except for the snaps and pops of the fire; but Esme finally emerged from the wash room and took a decompressing breath as she rounded into the living room.

"Thank you," she said again. "You're sure you don't want to switch places?"

Carlisle laid on the couch and he shook his head. "I want you to get a good night's sleep," he told her again.

"What about you?"

He raised his eyebrows.

"Will you be able to sleep okay on the couch?" Esme asked him.

Carlisle nodded. "I'll be fine. I've slept out here before."

She swallowed and nodded. "Thanks."

"Do you need anything else?"

Esme shook her head. "No." She cleared her throat. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Esme wandered down the hallway and made her way into Carlisle's bedroom. There was nothing on the walls but a stray shelf and a cross. There were small pieces of furniture and a mirror with a picture of two people, who she assumed were his parents, perched to the side of it.

A small lamp glowed on a nightstand by the bed and Esme slipped under the covers, feeling instant comfort when her head hit the pillow.

She hugged the covers to her body and took in a deep breath. The pillowcase lingered with Carlisle's scent - whether it was the soap he used, or something else, but she felt comfort being engulfed in the warmth of his blankets.

For awhile she laid there unable to fall asleep despite how exhausted she felt. Esme couldn't wrap her head around the changes that would be brought to her life. Charles was out of the picture, and better yet, in jail. She felt safe for the first time in many years, and almost felt uncomfortable being comfortable in the bed she slept in. There was no danger or doom lurking around the corner. She could sleep - really sleep without fearing for her safety. The thought in itself was liberating.

Esme took a deep breath and closed her eyes, guessing that leftover adrenaline contributed to her temporary insomnia. She could barely make out the numbers on the clock, but the last number she remembered seeing the hour hand trace over was the roman numeral II. It was then when she finally felt the exhaustion get the best of her and she drifted off to sleep.