Good morning readers...or good night, depending on where you're reading this from. Here's the next chapter of In Another Life for your enjoyment. I never really set a schedule for myself for updating, I just type when inspiration strikes and upload when I'm satisfied, but it looks like it'll probably be at least once a week, Thursday or Friday...maybe more often if I slack off of work. But don't tell anyone. I'm trying not to get fired ;P
So anyway, I just want to apologize in advance if this chapter is not up to my usual edited standards. I have a really bad habit of re-reading my chapters to edit them and then adding a bunch more details which then means I should edit the entire thing over again, but frankly I'm just to tired to read this chapter again and the words are starting to blur together. Plus I really wanted to get it posted for you guys today, so if there is anything horribly obnoxious let me know. :)
Esme and Carlisle were up early again, eating breakfast before church. As promised the kids were taking advantage of being able to sleep super late. Carlisle had no doubt that they wouldn't see them until noon. Even little Alice, their early riser, had decided to ignore the sun, instead choosing to bury her head under the covers.
It had been a late night of pumpkin carving, which resulted in a pumpkin goop war. Even though Esme wished she could blame it on the kids, this one was all on Carlisle, who promptly started the fiasco when he deliberately smeared the seeds from Esme's pumpkin all over her face while she was distracted by the mess Emmett was making. That proceeded to get worse when Esme chased him down with her own handful of pumpkin guts, making sure to string the orange cobwebs through his hair. She kissed him fiercely, covering his lips with pumpkin.
They broke apart laughing and that's when Emmett decided to take his pumpkin's vomit and dump it on Edward's head. And so began a long drawn out war that was only stopped when the last pumpkin seed had been fired across the basement. The cleanup wasn't as much fun but their carved pumpkins survived the ordeal and looked very cool on the front porch. Alice's was so big that she could actually sit inside it once it had been cleaned out.
Carlisle smirked at the memory of last night. Once the kids were asleep, he had spent a good hour in the shower with Esme, making sure every inch of her was pumpkin free, while she made good on her promise of telling him her dirty jokes. Needless to say it was a very eventful night, which explained why the kids would be asleep until lunch.
Carlisle flipped lazily through the morning paper, searching out the crossword. He was talking animatedly to Esme who was browning some bagels when he suddenly stopped mid-sentence. It was abrupt enough to make her turn around, gazing at his expression with a frown.
"We need to keep the kids off the TV tonight," he murmured, eyes fixed on something he had read. He turned the paper around, allowing Esme to see the dark printed highlights. In the Today section something had caught Carlisle's attention.
Remembering the Victims of Flight 703, tonight at 8/7 central
"Oh dear," Esme murmured, reading through the description quickly. "It's a memorial show, honoring victims of the crash."
Carlisle nodded, his lips pulled into a tight line.
"Do you think it is something they are ready to see?" Esme asked, looking up at him.
"I don't know." Carlisle ran a hand through his hair, something he did when he was either thinking or nervous. "Probably not, let's just make a point of not being home tonight. We can take the kids out for a late dinner," Carlisle suggested.
Esme nodded. "I think that's a good idea."
A set of footsteps that could be heard on the stairs snapped both of them out of their worry and back to reality. Carlisle tore the page of the newspaper out and crumpled it in his hand. He tossed it in the trash. Esme pushed the trash bin back under the cupboard and kicked the door closed as she waited for the toaster to pop.
"Edward," Esme said, surprised as he entered the kitchen fully dressed in slacks and a dress shirt. He looked particularly handsome. He had even tamed his wild hair. She could smell the gel. "I didn't expect to see you up this early."
"Did Alice wake you?" Carlisle asked with a smirk.
"No, everyone's asleep as far as I know. Emmett's snoring is drowning out all other noise, so I can't be sure, but the fact that Alice wasn't jumping on my bed this morning leads me to believe that I'm the only one up," Edward mused thoughtfully.
Carlisle laughed. "Just thought you'd get an early start on the day, then?"
"Actually, I'd like to go to church, with you, if that's okay," Edward said sheepishly.
Carlisle double blinked, mouth frozen in a tiny 'O'. Esme kissed him on the cheek so he would close his mouth.
"Of course it's okay." Esme smiled. "Eat," she said, passing Edward a bagel with cream cheese.
After a quick breakfast and a decent attempt at the crossword, Carlisle and Esme left to get dressed. Though it was something they did every weekend, today's outing felt particularly special because Edward was accompanying them. Faith was always a big part of Carlisle's life. His parents, Eleazar and Carmen, had raised him and his three sisters, Tanya, Kate, and Irina, that way. Even though it took Carlisle most of his life to understand how his faith made him a stronger person, most of which he discovered when Esme came into his world, he was glad that it was now something he could share with Edward.
The house was quiet as Carlisle closed and locked the front door behind them. Edward seemed contemplative on the drive to the church, which continued well through mass. It was easy to see that he was thinking. Esme always liked that about church. It was a time when you could just sit and think. During and even after her time with Charles, Esme always felt a great deal of comfort in the reflection that she gained from the short services.
The service was beautiful and Sunday's always had the choir, which Edward seemed to enjoy. His eyes would drift towards the piano whenever it sparked to life to introduce another hymn.
Mass ended but before they could leave, a pint-sized woman practically skipped towards them.
"Good morning, Maggie," Carlisle said as they walked up the main aisle to the back of the church. He had one hand around Esme's waist, holding her close, and the other on Edward's shoulder. He reached out to take Maggie's hand.
She was a lively young woman, with blue eyes and short red hair, which bounced in tight ringlets on her shoulders. Her small stature and sprightly nature reminded Edward of Alice.
She smiled at them. "Morning Carlisle, Esme. It's good to see you here. And who is this handsome young man?" she said, gesturing to Edward.
Edward ducked his head, blushing, but Carlisle chuckled.
"This is Edward. Edward, meet Maggie. She's the brilliant choir instructor."
Now it was Maggie's turn to blush as she shook Edward's hand. "I wouldn't say brilliant. The piano's more my forte," she said. "It's really nice to meet you, Edward."
"Was that you playing today?" Edward asked.
"Yep, like I said, singing was never really for me. I have a good ear, but the voice leaves something to be desired." Maggie giggled to herself.
"The ever modest Maggie," Carlisle joked and she rolled her eyes.
"Well, on the note of piano playing," Maggie began. "I have come to ask a favour."
Carlisle raise an eyebrow as Maggie continued. "I am unable to make it to the Sunday service next week and Esme, I was wondering if you would fill in for me?"
Esme blanked, her voice cracking.
Maggie shook her hands. "You wouldn't have to worry about the choir. Siobhan's looking after that. They know what they're doing. There are just a few pieces I need someone to play. And I know you play."
"Oh, Maggie, I really can't," Esme told her. "I haven't played like that," she gestured to the large piano at the front of the church, "since I was a little girl."
"Esme, you can't lie to me," Maggie grinned. "I've seen the piano in your dining room. I've heard you play before. Please!" Maggie took her hands.
"I-uh-I," Esme faltered. "I wouldn't even know when to start playing."
Maggie smiled. "No problem, Father Liam, will give you a nod when it's time. It's really no big deal, I promise."
"Maggie," Esme hummed. "I don't think I can do this. I'm not the right person."
"Please Esme; I'll give you the sheet music now. You can have the week to practice it. You'll be phenomenal, I know it. Please. I'll owe you forever."
"Come on, dear, you can do it," Carlisle encouraged.
Esme smirked. "Are you two teaming up on me now?"
"If that's what it takes," Maggie said. "Please."
"Edward thinks it's a good idea too," Carlisle pointed out.
Esme snapped her head in Edward's direction. The boy was positively grinning from ear to ear. He nodded in relation to Carlisle's comment and Esme sighed, defeated.
"I think I've been set up," Esme murmured. "Alright, fine." She crossed her arms. "But don't say I didn't warn you."
"Thank you, Esme, thank you. I will make it up to you, I promise," Maggie said, dancing on the spot.
Esme shook her head as Maggie riffled through her bag to pass along the sheet music for next week. "This is going to be a disaster," Esme moaned, flipping through the pages. She could already see the tiny black lines on the page blurring. She would have to spend a night just figuring out the notes. Reading sheet music was never something she was good at.
"Don't worry, my love," Carlisle said with a smile. "I will help you."
"That is very thoughtful Carlisle, but you don't have one musical bone in your body," Esme sighed on a laugh and Edward chuckled.
Carlisle winked at Maggie before they left. He turned to Esme on the way to the car, opening the passenger door for her. "But I am a great listener," he said, giving Edward a grin.
"That's true," she mused.
"Well, at least when this all goes horribly wrong, you can't say I didn't warn you. You and Maggie are horrible. I can't believe I let you two talk me into this."
Carlisle laughed climbing in behind the wheel. "And Edward," he reminded her. "He was a silent contributor."
Esme smirked, turning in her seat. "Will you come next week to see me make a fool of myself," she asked, wondering whether or not Edward would join them again. Carlisle stopped rubbing circles on the back of her hand and kissed it.
Edward nodded. "I'll be there, but you'll do great Esme, I know it."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Edward, but I'm not so sure."
Carlisle and Esme were surprised to find the house still silent when they got home. For once Edward took it upon himself to wake Alice up. He laughed as she stretched and moaned, telling him to go away. Edward just poked her sides until she gave in and stood up on her bed. "I'm up, I'm up," she said in surrender, jumping off the mountain of pillows, and flitting into the closet.
Esme laughed as she passed the door. If Alice was up then everyone else would be too.
Even after more than twelve hours of sleep the teenagers filtered down the stairs groggy and unable to keep their eyes open.
With Carlisle's help Esme started on lunch knowing that food would get the energy flowing. Rosalie often helped in the kitchen as well. It was easier that way, since Rosalie knew her vegan diet the best. Esme had to admit that she never knew there were so many uses for tofu.
After a quick lunch the kids decided it was time to get out of the house for a while. Carlisle offered to drop them off at the mall and that seemed to go over well, especially with Alice, who almost leapt out of her chair at the suggestion.
"I have to run into the hospital for a little while anyway," Carlisle said, kissing Esme's forehead on his way out the door. The kids were already assembled on the front steps, waiting. They could hear Alice chastising Emmett for his lack of fashionable clothing, since he had chosen to leave the house in sweats. That was not okay with Alice.
"Edward, are you sure you won't come?" Carlisle asked again.
"No, I think I need a nap," Edward replied through a yawn.
Esme laughed. "You were up early."
Edward laughed along with her.
"Alright then, we'll be home in a little while."
"Carlisle," Esme called before he shut the door. "Will you make reservations for tonight?"
He promised he would as the door closed behind him.
"Reservations?" Edward asked.
"For dinner. Carlisle and I thought it would be nice for everyone to go out tonight," Esme explained.
Edward nodded.
"You should probably get started on that nap," Esme said, grinning. "Take advantage of the quiet while you can."
As Edward settled in upstairs he could hear Esme settle in at the piano. For a few minutes he could hear her dotting the pages with a pen, probably filling out the notes. If she couldn't easily read sheet music it would be faster for her to memorize the piece that way.
Her first attempts at the music were slow. He could tell that she was struggling to find a pattern in the notes. Her rhythm was shaky because she was unsure. The chord progression was a little complicated, but nothing you couldn't accomplish with practice. Still, Edward could sense her frustration as her hand came down on a series of flat notes.
Slowly he made his way down the stairs and watched Esme as she plucked the keys half-heartedly. She looked up, sensing someone's presence.
"That bad, huh?" She mustered a small smile.
"No, it's not that bad. You're actually very close," Edward said. Esme raised her eyebrows at him and he stalled, wondering if he was capable of doing this. Edward debated for a second and then took a step forward, finding the resolve he needed. "Here let me show you."
Edward sat beside her on the bench and played the piece through easily. He found himself in that piece, remembering, feeling. He had forgotten how much he loved the piano, how much the music meant to him. He had forgotten how much he missed this, the feeling of the ivory slipping beneath his fingers.
"Edward, that was amazing," Esme breathed. She was so astonished by him that she hadn't even realized she had been holding her breath.
Edward muttered a "Thanks," and then, "Here you try," he said, arranging the sheet music in front of her again.
"Oh no, I can't," Esme began, waving her hands in front of her. "I'm out of practice. I don't even know why I agreed to do this."
"I'll help you," Edward assured her, placing her fingers on the correct keys to begin. He moved his own hands down an octave and together they played. He slowed the melody to allow her to follow him through the difficult parts.
Esme sighed. She had given up about half way through the piece, distracted by the ease at which Edward's hands moved. She was mesmerized by his talent. "Edward, you're wonderful. Will you play something else?" she asked.
Edward grimaced and pulled his hands back form the keys. "I always played with my mother," he mumbled.
"Oh, I see." Esme squeezed his hand, smiling sympathetically.
"I-I just don't feel right playing without her," Edward told her.
"I understand," Esme assured him. "But thank you for helping me." She smiled at Edward and his heart seemed to melt. She was so wonderfully kind, so motherly, he couldn't refuse her. She had done so much for him, playing for her was the least he could do.
"Actually," Edward began. "I have been working on something….since I've been here. It's not written down or anything," he mumbled. "I've just been arranging it in my head. So it might be a little rough. Would you like to hear it?"
"I'd love too," Esme said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Edward relaxed into the piece. When he had first noticed the piano he never dreamt of playing again. He felt like he was betraying his mother, betraying her memory, everything she meant to him. The piano was theirs, only theirs to share. He couldn't let anyone else take her place. But then he realized, that after everything he had lost, God had, in a way, made sure he could still have one of the most important things in his life. He could no longer play for his mother but he could play for Esme.
Edward let the last note ring out, echoing in the small room triumphantly.
Esme wiped at her eyes. "We'll have to get you some blank sheet music," she whispered. "That was beautiful. It needs to be written down."
Edward smiled. "It's not something I could easily forget. You inspired it. Well, you and Carlisle. I've been composing it as a thank you."
"Edward, you don't have to thank us. You make us so happy. Your being here is enough."
Edward took her hand. "Esme, you have no idea how much you have already helped me. Thank you would never be enough anyway, but hopefully this is a start," Edward said as his fingers graced the keys once more.
"Edward, promise me you will never stop playing," Esme said.
"I promise," he said with his crooked smile and for an afternoon they sat together, Edward playing and Esme listening, both enjoying each other's company.
Later in the afternoon Carlisle popped his head into the dining room. "Es, you sound great," he said.
Esme laughed. "Thanks dear, but I assure you, that is all Edward. Did you find what you were looking for at the hospital?"
Carlisle raised his brows. "Uh, yah," he mumbled. "You play, Edward?"
"My mother taught me," Edward said, letting the piece finish subtly.
"You're amazing," Carlisle said, still in shock.
Edward smiled, cleaning up and organizing the sheet music.
Carlisle shook his head. "Esme, I was just coming to let you know that I've made reservations for tonight at seven."
Esme checked her watch. They only had two hours. "That's soon. Do you want me to go pick up the kids?"
"Please. I'm going to grab a quick shower."
Edward stood from the piano bench. "Where are we going?" he asked.
"Nowhere too fancy. It's just a casual night," Carlisle told him.
Edward smiled. "I'm going to change. I think Alice would approve of jeans. I should probably call her though and make sure. I wouldn't want to endure her wrath for the entire night."
Carlisle and Esme should have laughed, but the comment couldn't have been closer to the truth. They heard the pitter-patter of feet as Edward raced up the stairs.
Carlisle moved to Esme as she gathered up the sheet music, placing it in a nice pile on top of the piano. The last thing she wanted to do was lose it.
Carlisle snaked his hands around her waist from behind, pulling her against him. He leaned forward to kiss her neck and she leaned her head against his chest.
"I've missed you Mrs. Cullen," he murmured.
Esme giggled. "Carlisle, you've only been gone for a few hours," she said.
"I know, and it looks like you had all the fun without me."
Esme grabbed his hands. "He simply lit up once he started playing, Carlisle. I think Edward made a significant breakthrough today."
"You're so wonderful with him, Esme."
Esme smirked. "Now, if I can only convince him to play at Mass next weekend then everything would be perfect."
"I don't think he'd say no to you," Carlisle whispered as Esme turned in his arms.
"And I think the congregation and their poor ears would appreciate Edward's playing to mine," Esme said. "Now you better go shower, I'll get the kids."
She tried to back away but Carlisle moved with her, his hands clamped around her waist.
"Carlisle," Esme giggled. He had her back pressed against the wall of the dining room.
Slowly he began tracing small circles on her thigh through her dress. She was still dressed in her church clothes.
"You're beautiful," Carlisle mused. He leaned forward, capturing her lips. His hands moved to cup her face, then pressed against the wall on either side of her head as his lips travelled across her jaw and down her neck, leaving fluttering kisses along her collar bone.
"Carlisle," Esme gasped, thrusting forward. She wanted to be closer to him.
He groaned in response, his hands moving down again. The fabric hugging her curves was so thin. There was basically nothing separating them and yet it felt like a huge barrier: one that needed to be removed immediately. Esme pushed against his hips again, feathering her fingers through his hair as she moved her lips with his.
"We should stop," she said breathlessly.
Carlisle nodded. "We should, my love." He lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist.
She shuddered at his touch, gasping for air as he claimed her lips once more. They were quickly unravelling in each other's arms.
They heard Edward moving around upstairs.
"We need to continue this somewhere private, Mrs. Cullen," Carlisle said huskily. His eyes were dark and wild with desire.
Esme swallowed, her lips brushing his. "The kids?" she whimpered as Carlisle slid his hand under her dress along her thigh.
"The shower?" Carlisle offered.
"We'll pick them up on the way to the restaurant," Esme said and Carlisle kissed her fiercely. Stealthily they made their way to the shower, which was good since Esme's legs were still wrapped around Carlisle's waist. Edward had his IPod on, thankfully oblivious to their less than appropriate displays of affection as they moved through the hall.
Once in their room, clothes were abandoned and bathroom doors were locked. The noise of the water drowned out the sounds of their love making as Carlisle took Esme against the shower wall. They didn't have time for slow, but neither of them had that much patience today.
"Thanks for dinner," Alice said hugging Carlisle and kissing Esme on the cheek before racing up the stairs. She still managed to flit around like a fairy, even weighed down by numerous shopping bags. Jasper trailed after her, carrying the rest of the bags Alice had acquired in the few short hours she was set loose in the mall.
"Come on, Edward." Alice called. "Wait until you see all the stuff we got for Halloween."
Edward gave her a funny look but Alice waved it off. "I'm so excited," she trilled, skipping down the hall.
Rosalie shook her head at Edward. "Just go with it. It's easier for everyone that way."
Emmett smirked, clapping Edward on the shoulder. "It's going to be epic, bro." Emmett turned to Carlisle and Esme from the top of the stairs. "See you in the morning," he called.
Esme and Carlisle whished the kids goodnight. Carlisle dressed quickly for bed, before promising to meet Esme on the couch downstairs. He had some last minute emails he wanted to send concerning some patient files. Esme took her time brushing her hair and eventually pulled on pajamas, after turning down the bed. On her way down the stairs, she paused outside each door on the second floor, watching the sleeping forms of each kid rise and fall. She smiled, quietly closing all the doors.
A familiar and rather unwelcomed sight greeted Esme as she found Carlisle in the living room, running a hand through his hair.
"This is still on?" Esme asked through a yawn. Carlisle was seated on the couch, remote in his hand, eyes captivated by the television as they had been on that horrible night several months ago.
"Must be a repeat," Carlisle mused, as Esme plopped herself down beside him. Carlisle wrapped his arm around her as she leaned against his shoulder.
"Why would they put this on repeat, it's bad enough it was on once," Esme murmured, watching the footage of the plane hitting the ground and bursting into flame as the engines caught fire.
"I think it's a publicity thing. You know the investigation is still ongoing. People want retribution. They want someone to pay for what happened. The victim's families want answers."
Esme nodded. "It's sad how people forget about things like this, so much so, they have to replay it on TV a few months later just to remind us."
"I think they figure by dragging it up again, someone will get to the bottom of the investigation. It should jumpstart all the legal activity."
"That's horrible," Esme said. "I'm not saying there shouldn't be answers and retribution for all the suffering, but do they have to do it at the survivors' and victims' expense?"
Carlisle shrugged his agreement. It was obvious the program was more about reliving the horrific images of that day than actually honoring the memory of those who had died.
Esme shuddered, imagining each of the kids being stuck on that plane as it hit the ground. The volume was low, really low, but Esme could still hear the sirens wailing, the scream of ambulances and fire trucks as they surrounded the burning wreckage. Esme watched as stretcher after stretcher was wheeled away from the plane, injured people flailing and screaming. She was surprised they put these images on television in the first place. Seeing them again only made it more real.
Having the kids with her and Carlisle every day, seeing the progress they made, it was easy to forget sometimes, the horrors they had seen. Her heart broke all over again for them. Carlisle squeezed her hand, letting her know that he felt the same.
A small cry of distress broke them away from the images on the screen. Carlisle and Esme turned, snapping their heads around to the staircase. Rosalie was standing at the bottom of the stairs, trembling, as she gripped the banister for support.
"Oh, Rosalie," Esme began, jumping to her feet.
Rosalie's eyes were wide, horror stricken, as she watched the TV. Her gaze was glued. Even though she desperately wanted to, she couldn't peel her eyes away. Carlisle was on his feet now as well.
"Rosalie," he whispered, stepping forward.
She stumbled back, tripping on the stairs. Her legs gave out, landing her on the bottom step. It seemed to snap her out of the living nightmare. "I-I-I…" Her voice quivered.
She blinked back the tears that had gathered in her eyes and bolted up the stairs again. Esme heard her door close with a muffled thud. She waited, listening. It was quiet, no one else was up, but Esme knew Rosalie wouldn't sleep tonight, not after seeing that.
"How long do you think she was there?" Esme whispered. "I didn't even hear her come down the stairs."
"Long enough to drag up the memories." Carlisle sighed and laid his hands on Esme's shoulders. "We need to go talk to her."
"Let me try," Esme said, gripping his hand on her shoulder and turning to face him.
Carlisle nodded. "Alright, my love. I'm here if you need me."
Esme ascended the stairs slowly. She didn't know exactly what she was going to say to Rosalie, she didn't even know how to begin, so she started by knocking.
As Esme laid her ear against the door she could hear the muffled dry sobs.
Esme knocked again. There was still no answer. She didn't expect there to be, she was just trying to be polite before entering. Once more Esme knocked, then she gripped the brass handle and twisted. The door popped open an inch.
Esme could see Rosalie's hunched form in the middle of her bed. She was shrouded by shadows, cast by the dim light from her bedside lamp. It was enough light for Esme to see the racking sobs that shook her body. Long blonde hair draped over Rosalie's shoulders and down her back, shaking like waves.
"Rosalie, I'm coming in," Esme said, moving inside the room and closing the door behind her. She didn't want to ask Rosalie if she could come in and give the girl a chance to say no. Esme had been through this before, not exactly the same type of trauma, but the same type of pain and she knew that there was a time when the person should be left alone and a time when they shouldn't, even if they yelled and screamed and told you to go away.
That's how Carlisle had gotten through to her when Charles had left her broken and beaten. Sometimes space and time was all that was needed and sometimes you needed to be held and told that everything was going to be okay. That's what Rosalie needed now.
If they left her alone she would wallow in her pit of misery and despair. Slowly it would eat away at her until only wisps of the girl she should be remained. And eventually it would be too late to get her back. Esme wouldn't let that happen. With his love Carlisle had saved her and she was determined to do the same for Rosalie.
Rosalie acknowledged her presence by taking a quick glance over at the door. When she saw Esme standing there, the sobbing only intensified.
"Oh, sweet girl," Esme said, moving to sit on the edge of Rosalie's bed. She pulled Rosalie towards her and wrapped her in a tight hug. Rosalie shuddered but collapsed into Esme's arms, burying her face against Esme's shoulder.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," Esme whispered. "Carlisle and I tried to keep you away from it. We really did."
Rosalie coughed and spluttered, her body sucking in deep breaths of air.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Esme asked, pressing her forehead against Rosalie's.
She felt Rosalie shake her head back and forth, sobbing and hiccupping as she did.
Rosalie's eyes were red and puffy from where she had been rubbing away the tears. Esme let her thumb gently wipe away a line of stray tears that grazed Rosalie's cheek. Part of Esme was surprised that Rosalie was okay with being this close to her without anyone else around, but she also knew that this is what Rosalie had been craving, even if it was subconscious. She had been trying so hard to block out everything else that she had ignored the screaming little girl inside reaching out for someone who would be able to comfort her. This is what Doctor Peters had been waiting for: the breakdown.
Rosalie looked up at her and in her eyes Esme saw nothing but a swirling blue abyss of pain. "There's nothing to talk about," Rosalie mumbled. "Nothing that matters anymore." She sounded distraught.
"I think there's a lot to talk about," Esme whispered, brushing aside Rosalie's bangs, letting her hand rest on her cheek. Rosalie closed hers eyes and for a second leaned against Esme's hand. "I think it just hurts too much to start," Esme told her.
Rosalie cringed away. "How would you know," she whispered. The question wasn't spiteful or accusing. It was just defeated.
"I know you're angry and scared. And I think you have every right to be," Esme said.
"Why do I have a right to be angry," Rosalie spluttered. "I'm the one who's alive. I survived. There were people on that plane that died that night: people who never made it out. Why should I get to be angry? I lived," she shouted. Then she looked at Esme, eyes pleading, shocked at her own outburst and shuddered.
"I'm sorry…sorry," Rosalie gulped. "What's wrong with me?" she almost moaned, covering her eyes with her hand.
"Shh," Esme hummed. "It's okay. There are going to be things you see or hear or feel that trigger emotions for you. You'll remember how scared you were. You'll feel all the pain. It's normal for that to happen," Esme said trying to calm her.
"But it's not the pain that I remember," Rosalie whimpered. "Or how scared I was."
"What do you remember?" Esme asked, encouraging Rosalie to open up. The girl just shook her head again and her bottom lip trembled fiercely.
Esme took a chance. "Is it your parents? Is that what you remember?"
Rosalie winced but nodded. "I remember looking at their injuries, wondering if they were life threatening." Rosalie stared at the wall instead of at Esme.
"Carlisle said they were in rough shape when they arrived at the hospital," Esme said.
Rosalie just stared and nodded, finally she turned to look at Esme, a new emotion swirling in the depths of her eyes: self-loathing.
"And you know what I thought when I saw them injured like that?" Rosalie cried. "I was happy. I was praying to God that they were dead. And if not, that God would take me instead…"
"Rosalie, it's not your fault that they died," Esme told her firmly, cupping Rosalie's cheeks in either hand.
"I prayed for them to be dead, Esme. My head was spinning. There was smoke and gas and fire." Rosalie gulped a breath of air.
"The seats were split, stuffing exploding like puffy clouds everywhere. Blood splattered the interior of the plane. There was skin and bone and faces, burnt faces." Rosalie was hysterical, rocking in Esme's arms. "It was horrible. And still I prayed for my parents to be dead. That was the only thought I had from the moment I opened my eyes, crushed between their bodies, to the second we were ushered into an ambulance. What kind of person does that make me?"
Esme held Rosalie as she cried. She smoothed her long hair, and pressed her lips to the top of Rosalie's head.
"I was a horrible daughter, that's why they hated me," Rosalie whimpered.
"Rosalie, the way they treated you, the abuse, it was not your fault," Esme said, punctuating each word with a short pause. "There is nothing you could have done to deserve being treated like that."
"But maybe…maybe if I was…" Rosalie shuddered. Her voice cracked. "…a better daughter."
"I used to think something like that, too," Esme said, staring at the wall now, her mind disappearing for a moment.
Rosalie stiffened and leaned away from Esme so she could see her face. Esme gave her a tender smile.
"You?" Rosalie asked. The little word held the questioning power of a thousand unsaid things.
"Yes," Esme whispered, taking both Rosalie's hands in hers. She squeezed both for Rosalie's sake and for her own.
"I was married once before Carlisle," Esme said on a swallow. She never thought she would be able to share this part of herself with anyone besides Carlisle. It didn't seem fair to place that burden on anyone else. But in Rosalie's case it wasn't as much of a burden as it was common ground. And as Esme mulled over the idea of sharing her worst memories with Rosalie, she felt an odd sense of satisfaction in the fact that after her all the pain and misery she endured at his hands, Charles' influence in her life might just be the one thing that brought her closer to Rosalie. She could relate to her in a way most other people would find difficult. Esme understood; she truly empathised with Rosalie's experience.
Esme cleared her throat, feeling a little hoarse. "His name was Charles Evenson. He was a mean man, but at the time I didn't know it. I was young and I thought I knew what love was. Looking back now it was only with a lot of prompting from my parents that I said yes to his proposal. My mother was so happy for me and on the outside Charles presented like a respectable man. In reality he was a monster.
"For three years I stood by as he used and abused my body, in any way he saw fit. I was scared. I didn't know who to turn to for help so I closed myself up, hardening myself to the world. I resolved not to let him see me cry, for it only made his temper worse. I steeled myself against the pain. I became an empty shell, a vessel, at his beck and call."
"What changed," Rosalie asked quietly. She bit her lip and clenched her fists inside Esme's hands.
"I was pregnant and I had decided to leave him. Charles found out and as I tried to leave there was an argument. He pushed me and I fell down a flight of stairs."
Rosalie gasped, pulling her hands to cover her mouth.
Esme gripped Rosalie's bed sheets, rolling and unrolling the fabric in her lap. That memory was the hardest to relive, knowing it was the moment that ended her child's life.
"The baby," Rosalie whispered.
Esme smiled sadly. "I was taken to the hospital to be treated and shortly after, had a miscarriage. Eventually after a lot of drama, Charles ended up in jail, exactly where he deserves to be. But even knowing he was locked away, I was still broken. Charles had left me in pieces. I was a fraction of the spirited woman I had once been. And the news that it would be almost impossible for me to conceive again, not to mention carry a baby to term sent me spiraling into a dark place.
"Charles had managed to destroy me and the one good thing that had come from our marriage in the same instant," Esme sighed.
Rosalie looked thoughtful. "What made it better?" she wondered. The Esme she had come to know was nothing like the person Esme was describing now.
This time Esme's smile was wide and genuine.
"I found Carlisle," she said, as if that explained everything. "He helped me see that I didn't deserve to be treated the way Charles chose to treat me. I didn't deserve the abuse, and neither did you, Rosalie. You have to understand that."
Rosalie sobbed, her shoulders hunched. "I feel like such a bad person."
"Your parents are dead because of an unfortunate accident. The fact that they spent their life mistreating their daughter had nothing to do with the plane crashing. But the fact that they abused you was not okay and you can't blame yourself for their death."
"But I was so happy. In the hospital room, when they stopped breathing. I didn't even try to look for a doctor. I just waited and held my breath. One minute, two minutes, five, ten. All I was concerned about was them coming back. I prayed that the staff was too busy to notice they had passed away. I didn't want them to be saved."
"Your parents were monsters Rosalie, and the feelings you have, the guilt, the hate, it's all normal. When Charles was sent to jail I was ecstatic at first. Then I started to think about everything he had done to me, to my baby, and I wondered why he deserved to live in a padded cell for the rest of his life when my child was dead. I wanted Charles to pay in more than just time behind bars, I wanted him to pay with his life," Esme admitted. "I know it hurts and I know it's confusing, but in time you will understand. You are a wonderful person Rosalie and you will get through this. I will be here. Carlisle is here. Doctor Peters could probably offer you more support but you have to talk to him."
Rosalie hiccupped and nodded.
"Will you try, Rosalie," Esme asked. "Not for me or Carlisle, or anyone else. You have to want this for you. We will support you through everything, but you have to want to take your life back. I'm not saying it won't be hard, but you're strong. Look how much you've already faced," Esme told her.
Rosalie nodded and muttered a small "okay". "I don't want to keep feeling this way," she sobbed. "Everything feels so heavy all the time."
"I know," Esme crooned. She hugged Rosalie to her chest and rocked slowly. "But it gets better with time. Confiding in people helps too," Esme whispered. "You know I'm always here, no matter what you're feeling, no matter when. I'm here for you, Rosalie." I love you. She didn't use those words because she knew it would be confusing for Rosalie. There hadn't been enough time to sort through all the emotions she was already fighting against.
Esme just hoped that somewhere, deep inside, Rosalie understood. Even though it was unspoken, she hoped Rosalie could sense that she and Carlisle loved her like their own daughter. They loved all the kids. Esme had been uncertain at first, wondering about the warm hovering fire that had been trapped constantly in the pit of her stomach for as long as she and Carlisle had known the kids, longer than just the time they had been in the house. It was similar to what she felt for Carlisle but different in a way, more protective and it had multiplied in the short time she had spent with the kids. She had fallen deeply and irrevocably in love with them.
When Rosalie's tears had dried and her sobs had calmed, her eyelids drooped. It had been a long day, ended by an emotional breakdown. Rosalie was exhausted. She settled down on her pillow as Esme tucked the comforter around her. Before she left the room Esme pressed a kiss to the top of Rosalie's head and whispered, "Sweet dreams." She truly hoped her night would be filled with happy thoughts instead of nightmares.
After closing the door behind her, Esme saw that the lights in the living room had been turned off. She followed the sound of Carlisle's footsteps up to their bedroom. He was pacing when she opened the door.
"How did it go?" Carlisle asked, rushing to her side.
"It was…emotional," Esme began.
"And?" he pressed.
She bit her lip, unsure of what Carlisle would think. "I told her about Charles."
"I thought you might." Carlisle offered a sympathetic smile and squeezed her hand. "Did it help her?"
"I think it might have. At least, it gave her something to think about. She needs support right now more than anything. I didn't know if sharing about my past was the right thing to do, but I think I may have offered her a bridge. And she seemed like she might be ready to take the leap. I hope now she is able to start the process of really healing instead of hiding behind her walls. We just need to love her. That's what you did for me," Esme said, searching his face. Somehow the tender look in his eyes softened even more and Esme felt like she might melt into his arms.
Carlisle pulled Esme flush against him with so much force that he stumbled back, both of them falling to the bed. Carlisle rolled so Esme was beneath him. "I'm so proud of you," he said, kissing her forehead, then both her cheeks, then her lips. "You amaze me."
Esme inhaled deeply. Being near Carlisle made everything alright. "She'll be okay," Esme said.
Carlisle nodded. "Rosalie's strong, just like you. It will take time, but we'll be there through everything. We'll love and support them all through whatever comes next."
Esme smiled at him, a small sob escaping her lips. Carlisle moved his hand to brush the caramel locks away from her face. He watched her as she watched him, their eyes mesmerized by each other.
"Carlisle," Esme whispered. "Did you ever think I was too broken to be fixed?"
"Never," Carlisle whispered back. "And neither is Rosalie."
"I love you," Esme told him as he laid gentle kisses across her forehead.
"Beloved, you are my life. Never doubt that I have always and will always love you," Carlisle said with a tender smile. He kissed her lips once more, the passionate embrace only breaking when the need for air became too great.
That was the first night in a long time that Esme slept in Carlisle's arms, not just because, but for the strength and support she found there. Carlisle knew the emotional toll the night had taken on Esme. He held her all night, whispering warm words of love into her ear as she slept. He truly believed that no matter what obstacles they still faced Rosalie and Esme had both made amazing progress tonight. And maybe Janice was right; it wasn't just about helping the kids heal, in many ways, having the kids here was good for them too.
Okay, okay, I know, two authors notes in the same chapter. It's an outrage! But since your reading this now, please leave a review. It makes me smile :) and for some strange reason it also makes me type faster, which means chapters get uploaded sooner...no pressure ;P Thanks for reading and the continued support. It means a lot!