"This is unbelievable. If I had known that you could just beat it out of me..."

"You can stop right there, son. Let's not get any wild ideas."

"But, Papa, if I knew that it was this easy to become a Cullen again, I would have..."

Carlisle spun Jasper roughly around, sending the spoon flying out of the youth's hand to clatter to the floor. Cupping a hand behind the boy's neck, he pulled his face close enough for their foreheads to touch as they stared into each other's eyes.

"The color of your eyes does not make you a Cullen. How many times must we go over this? Your heart, your spirit, the things inside that don't change — these are what mark you as my son."

Jasper found it difficult to hold his father's gaze, but couldn't bring himself to look away.

"Listen to me well, young man," the elder continued. "As my second, this is the first and most important lesson that you must learn. Your siblings will slip up from time to time. Their instincts will overcome them. They may injure or even kill someone, but that will never diminish their standing within this family."

The soldier's eyes widened in shock and hurt.

"I would never consider that it would, nor would I ever dream of treating them any differently."

"I'm well aware of that, son, but you need to show yourself the same respect and understanding. Being able to forgive yourself is as important as being able to forgive others. We all experience guilt at times, but when you let it to rule you, it affects your ability to lead efficiently.

I respect that you hold yourself to a higher standard, Jasper, but you have to accept that you won't always be perfect. There's nothing wrong with that. It's a human quality, and isn't coming as close to human as possible what we strive for?"

The soldier' closed his eyes and rested his head against his father's as he sighed heavily.

"It is, Papa, but I would rather just have the better parts of the human experience."

"Wouldn't we all?" Carlisle smiled as he gave the youth's neck a squeeze before letting go.

"I'll try to give myself a break when I eff up."

"You'll do more than try."

Meeting his father's eyes, Jasper found the patriarch's gaze turning stern. Swallowing hard, he summoned his courage and injected conviction into his tone.

"Yes, sir. I'll do as you command."

"Request, Major," he corrected gently. "But it can become a command if need be."

"I understand, sir."

"Good man."

Carlisle gave the boy a pat on the back and was gently turning him towards the hallway when a loud gasp caught his attention. A glance over his shoulder revealed his mate standing in the doorway with a hand over her mouth — an expression of shock etched across her beautiful face.

"Esme." He smiled warmly, love radiating from every pore.

"Carlisle, what have you done?"

The patriarch's moment of contentment evaporated in an instant. Sighing inwardly, his eyes flickered to his son's abused hands before he looked back at his wife.

"We discussed this, sweetheart. While things didn't quite follow my original plan, there wasn't that much true deviation. Jasper has been sufficiently corrected for his transgression, and the incident is now resolved. No further discussion is required."

"No further discussion is required?" The matriarch's eyes darkened and glazed over with cold fury. "Carlisle Cullen, there was no need for this at all. I told you that you were blowing the incident in question out of proportion. It was nothing more than a harmless mistake; a miscalculation on Jasper's part. He didn't hurt me. He didn't actively attack me, but look at what you've done to him."

Quickly, Jasper turned towards his mother and straightened his stance, pressing his bandaged hands against the small of his back to hide them from view. For a brief moment his brow furrowed in response to the steady throbbing of rushing venom to the injured tissue — a sensation that returned a forgotten memory of the heartbeat he had lost so long ago. Smoothly recovering his composure, the soldier used his body language as well as his talent in an attempt to reassure his mother.

"I'm fine, Momma. You've nothin' to worry about."

Ignoring the comforting warmth that suddenly caressed her, Esme shook her head.

"Honey, if you were fine there would be no need for bandages."

"They're just there to hold the..." Jasper cut himself off, but he knew he had already offered too much information.

"Hold what, Jasper?"

Why didn't you keep your fool mouth shut? Idiot! "Nothing, ma'am. I was just rambling."

A sideways glance at his leader showed the noble doctor with his head bowed. Forgoing the pretense of blocking his emotions as he normally would around his empathic son, sorrow, regret and anxiety practically oozed from the man like a sickness as he rubbed his eyes.

"Oh my God. Carlisle, did you shear off Jasper's fingers?"

"What?" The physician questioned as his head shot up at the accusation. It was the patriarch's turn to be shocked.

"It's nothing like that," Jasper hastily interjected. "Nothing at all."

"Then why is there a need for bandages, Jasper?"

"To keep my hands iced," he responded glumly as he dipped his head ever so slightly.

"And why do your hands require ice?" she pushed for clarification.

"To reduce swelling." It was Carlisle's clear, calm voice that responded to the question while his son groaned.

In an instant, Esme was in her husband's face, emboldened by a mother's righteous need to protect her cub.

"What causes swelling, Carlisle?" she spat in a low throaty growl.

Taking a step back, he shook his head before releasing a breath through a soft, emotion filled sigh. Meeting his mate's irritated glare, the patriarch answered quietly. "It's a normal bodily response to trauma."

"TRAUMA!" The fiery brunette threw her hands in the as as she turned her back on her husband in disgust. After several minutes, she faced him again with onyx eyes reflecting disappointment and anger. "Trauma," Esme repeated in a softer tone. "You didn't punish your son, Carlisle. You caused him harm. You took a minor incident that could have very easily been shrugged off and used it to repair your hurt pride, all under the guise of justice. I never thought that I would find myself saying this, but I am disgusted with your behavior."

"Momma, you have it wrong."

Carlisle raised a hand to silence his boy. "Jasper, it's alright. Your mother has made a valid point."

"No, it's not alright. I won't let you take blame when you've done nothin' wrong."

Shouldering his way between the two authority figures, Jasper pushed Carlisle back and faced his mother head on.

"I know that it looks bad, but it really isn't. I've had worse done to me, much worse, and I've extracted harsher retribution from those under me. Papa aint nothing if not fair." The Major gave a short nod to stress his point. "I seriously messed up. Papa's job is to snap me back in line. That's all he did. He didn't want to, but he suffered through it with me because that was the right thing to do. He has to keep everyone safe, Momma, and it was with that in mind that he did what I forced him to do."

"I know that you believe that, sweetheart, but Carlisle went too far this time."

"It was deserved."

"You couldn't do anything that warrants this sort of treatment, and knocking into me is hardly..."

"I pushed you. I could have easily hurt you. I earned what I got and much more."

Esme drew an exasperated breath as she crossed her arms. Gazing past the soldier, she caught her mate's eye.

"And what do you say, Carlisle? What do you really think?"

The elder blond worried his bottom lip as he faced the simmering fury of his wife.

"I could have handled things better," he finally admitted after a few minutes pause. "But I did what I felt was in the best interest of your son. I don't want this to escalate any further, so I did everything within my power to put an end to this pattern of behavior here and now."

"What of your behavior? The children look to you for their example. Is this what you wish for them to emulate?"

"The children are not disciplinarians within the family. There is no reason for them to model my behavior in this." Carlisle assured her as he met her eyes from over his son's shoulder. "My response to Jasper's maltreatment of you was harsh, but it wasn't cruel."

"Not cruel? Look at his hands!" Punishment for a misdeed should not require medical attention, Carlisle."

"I didn't need care, Momma. Papa wrapped my hands because he's soft hearted and didn't want me ta be hurtin'."

"You shouldn't have been hurt in the first place."

"I've done wrong. By rights I should feel this for a long spell to make sure that the lesson gets through my think skull. A bit of pain is a good thing."

"Would it still be a good thing if it was Alice standing in your place?"

Jasper drew back as if Esme has slapped him.

"My Alice is rarely if ever in trouble. She would never find herself in my position."

"But she could, Jasper. Your father has crossed a line today, and that makes it easier for him to do it again. Next time it could be any of you, even Alice."

The southerner shook his head. He knew Carlisle and how he operated. His punishments were fair though, admittedly, the Denali vacation hadn't seemed very fair at the time. The youth shook his head to clear away the negative thought. No. There were very few absolutes in his life, but one was, and always would be, Carlisle's fair-mindedness. His leader's integrity wouldn't tolerant anything less from himself.

Discipline was meted out carefully — tailored to the offense and the culprit. Both he and Emmett required a firmer hand than Edward or the girls, and that was how they had always been handled. The Major couldn't conceive of an offense that Alice could commit that would earn her more than a sharp word or a few mild swats to make her toe the line.

"I'm sorry, Momma, but I have to disagree with you. What you are suggesting is plum impossible."

Glancing over his shoulder expectantly, Jasper looked to Carlisle to refute Esme's absurd assertion, but the man's defeated stance and the grief that oozed from him made the boy feel like he was championing a lost cause. The elder clearly believed the poison that his wife was spouting. She was verbalizing the thoughts that continued to jeopardize Carlisle's faith in himself by feeding into his misplaced self-depreciation.

Continuing to shield his father, Jasper returned his attention to his mother. Esme just didn't understand. Her maternal instincts forced her to defend him against anyone, even her mate. The soldier loved her for wanting to aid him, but she didn't know what she was putting Carlisle through. She didn't realize how her words cut through him and validated every cruel opinion he had of himself. Unlike her empathic son, she couldn't appreciate her husband's anguish because she couldn't feel it every time the man's emotional barrier slipped. ... Or, maybe she could.

With the patriarch's defenses down and his spirit weakened by the battery his wife was inflicting, Jasper was easily able to tap into the rolling storm of the man's emotions. Drawing the doubt, pain and frustration into himself, the soldier heaved a heart wrenching sigh.

"I know that I'm not supposed to be doing this, but," he stated with a hint of regret. "I need you to understand."

A flood of wretchedness and despair crashed over the woman in a torrent, chilling her to the depths of her soul. Esme gasped as the crippling emotions caused her silent heart to constrict fiercely in her chest. Were she human, she would have sworn that she was experiencing a heart attack.

"Jasper, stop," called a strong, velvety soft voice from behind him. "No more, son." Carlisle's hand landed heavily upon his shoulder and squeezed it hard. "You can't use your gift like this against your family. Stop it now, or find yourself across my knee again."

As quickly as it had come, the cold, suffocating feeling vanished, leaving the woman out of breath, shaking, and confused.

The strong hand on the Major's shoulder tightened further before spinning him around. Carlisle's shield was back up, but the youth didn't need his gift to gauge the doctor's emotional bearing. A look of betrayal and anger simmered behind his coal black eyes.

"Don't you ever pull something like that again."

"She had to know."

"She would have in time. Do you not realize that there is no difference between what you just did and slapping your mother in the face? Manipulating her like that has the same effect as what you were just correct for."

"I didn't want to hurt her, but I couldn't allow her to continue to hurt you. It wasn't right."

"Neither was that stunt, and since you apparently don't know this, let me enlighten you. I can handle myself just ..."

"Carlisle? Is that really what punishing Jasper is doing to you?" Esme asked softly while pressing her hand instinctively to her chest.

The patriarch stared into his won's wide eyes, noting with some sadness how the stress induced darkening caused the remaining flecks of crimson to gleam brightly.

"Carlisle?"

Ignoring his mate for a few seconds longer, the elder softly commanded, "Stay right where you are, Major. We are not done here."

"Yesh, sah."

Carlisle nodded, satisfied that his order would be obeyed, before shooting his wife a soft expression filled with concern.

"I'm not sure what he shared, a ghrá. All I can say for certain is that I felt no different so I don't believe that our son was embellishing."

"Why? Why would you put yourself through that?"

"Because I love my family," he simply stated. "I will do whatever I must to keep all of you safe and secure. On that note." He glanced back at his southern son. "Jasper, give me your hand."

"Carlisle, don't. You've both been through enough already."

"I couldn't agree more, my love. That's why I'm going to let this misstep slide, but..." He looked up from the hand cupped carefully in his and paused in the unbandaging process to stare hard into his son's face. "If anything like this happens again, I will not only flay the hide off of you, Jasper Monroe, but I'll see to it that you don't feed for a week. Are we clear?"

Jasper knew that Carlisle didn't make idle threats, but he was certain that this was one that his superior wouldn't be inclined to carry out. His stomach, however, was not as certain as his brain, and churned. Nervously, the youth swallowed back the bile like venom and tried to over ride the queasiness he felt.

"Yes, sah. Crystal clear."

"Good. Let's hope that it never comes to that, because I am painfully serious."

"It sounds extraordinarily painful, sah."

The elder suppressed a grin as he studied his boy's eyes. Feeling that his point had been made, Carlisle sighing deeply before resuming attending to Jasper's wounds while his mate looked on.

Cautiously removing the compression bandage and the mostly melted ice pack, the physician liberated his son's right hand. Lightly, he pressed against the underside of Jasper's knuckles while carefully avoiding the still swollen palm and vividly discolored fingertips.

"I didn't expect that," Jasper remarked, then hissed low and winced as his father hit a tender spot.

"It's the rewarmed blood in your system. The venom is carrying it to the most damanged areas to nourish your tissues." Carlisle looked up from his task and glanced at his wife while continuing to address the soldier. "Fresh blood would speed the healing, but it will be some hours yet before you're well enough to hunt."

"There are some voles nesting in the woodshed."

The patriarch smiled weakly and shook his head. "I doubt the voles have enough blood for the job." Quickly recapturing Esme's eye, the doctor requested, "Honey, would you mind warming some more blood? I've left the pot on the stove."

Without a word, the matriarch slipped silently away to fill her husband's request.

"Can you curl your fingers, Jasper?"

The boy grunted as he rolled his hand into a loose fist. "They're stiff, but the pain is tolerable."

Carlisle nodded.

"Let's have a look at the other one. I'm afraid it's going to be a bit worse. Would you like to sit so you can relax while I do this?"

"No, sir," the soldier answered without missing a beat. "I'll stand, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all."

As the constricting bandage began to loosen, Jasper felt his hand begin to puff up from the rush of venom. A panicky feeling blossomed in the pit of his stomach, and he tugged his hand out of his father's soft grasp.

"I've troubled you enough, Papa. I can finish unwrapping it myself. I'll just get my mug from Momma and go back to my room for a spell. I think you were right about me still needing to lie down."

"Jasper, give me your hand. I need to check the progress of your healing."

"You've already seen that I'm coming along. There's no point in checking the other one. It will be just the same. Stiff and sore, but bearable."

"That is highly doubtful. Your left hand was strapped last, so its recovery will lag behind the right. Your left hand will offer a more reliable assessment. Now, please let me see it."

"I don't want to," he countered, then cringed as he realized how childish he sounded.

"Major Whitlock," Esme called sharply as she joined her husband, a steaming mug held between her hands. "Mind your father and give him your hand. That is quite enough of this foolishness."

After a very long minute of internal debate and a cocked brow from Carlisle, Jasper closed his eyes and reluctantly extended his hand so the doctor could resume his evaluation. The soldier felt the bandages and ice fall away, and then it hit him. Debilitating anguish and extreme shock drenched him like a tsunami and chilled him to his soul. Opening his eyes, he saw his mother, with a hand covering her mouth, suddenly turn away. Carlisle has ceased breathing while self-disgust and remorse poured from him and dulled his features.

Glancing down at his hand, the youth saw dark, angry red lines standing out against a purple black background of bruising. His swollen fingers refused to bend an inch and the flood of fluids brought more blood to further darken the injury while it caused his hand to throb and ache.

"Carlisle," Esme gasped breathlessly, her back still to her boys.

The elder released his trapped breath and nodded. "You were right, Esme," was all he said before walking away from the nightmarish scene to retrieve more ice from the freezer.

"Well we know where that first mug of grade A caribou went," Jasper quipped, but when neither of his parents responded, he altered his tactic. "It's not so bad. I just need a little more to drink, and I'll be right as rain."

Carlisle returned with a new ice pack and groaned at the sight before him.

"It's going to take more than a little blood to fix this. I'm very sorry, son."

"No need for apologizes, Papa. I've told you that already. I had it coming, and knew it. No harm; no foul."

"That, my dear, is certainly harm," Esme said quickly as she forced herself to stare at the grim evidence of her husband's justice.

"No, it's not, Momma. It just hurts a little. Everything is still attached and working. It's. Not. As. Bad. As. It. Looks."

"Can you make a fist?" Carlisle questioned in a somewhat distance voice, and the southerner felt his heart drop.

Gritting his teeth, Jasper forced his fingers down until they curled like the claws of a bear, but could force them no further.

"I'll be able to. I just need a little more time," he reassured, but knew now that he was fighting a losing battle.

The doctor shook his head as he replaced the numbing ice and loosely wrapped the bandages around his boy's hand.

"Your mother is completely accurate. This is harm, Jasper. It's abuse."

"Papa, no."

Carlisle's eyes flickered up to meet his son's.

"If a human presented injuries such as these in my ER, I would be on the phone with which ever protective service or safe harbor was suited to deal with their case."

"That's different."

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is," the youth firmly stated. "Humans are warm, soft, and easily damaged beyond repair. It takes more to make an impression on our cold, hard, hides. It's not easy getting through my thick skull, either. Then factor in our second to nod speed healing," he added with a brilliant smile. "Well, there ya go. Entirely different circumstance that negates cries of abuse."

"Accelerated healing doesn't grant carte blanche, Jasper. Abuse is still abuse regardless how quickly the physical signs fade." Carding a hand through his thick fair hair, Carlisle lowered his head and shook it slowly. "There are always emotional scars, and they heal slowly." Raising his eyes, he peered up at his boy while his heart shattered. "Those scars never fully heal; not even for a vampire."

"I'm not scarred, Papa. I swear to you, I'm not."

Appearing not to have heard Jasper's continued reassurance, Carlisle went still and silent before shaking his head. Turning onyx eyes on his wife, he spoke in a hushed voice. "Esme, will you please see that Jasper gets the blood and rest that he needs? I would also appreciate it if you would call Carmen to let her know that it's okay to bring the children back. Jazz needs you and Alice right now. I'm going out for a while. I have to clear my head."

Esme nodded, but offered no words of solace or a comforting embrace to her mate as he left the house in disgrace.

"Momma, don't let him go off like that. If you won't go after him, I will," the southerner declared, but as he headed towards the door his mother grasped his arm and pulled him to a stop.

The Major shot the slight woman a befuddled glare, but, much to her relief, didn't try to escape her hold. There had been a desperate plea in the his tone, and now that same desperation shone in his eyes. He wanted to help Carlisle, but as admirable that that was, Esme took a different view. Her mate should not be protected from his guilt; not this time. What he had done boarder on the edge of unforgivable. She never particularly cared for his physical methods of correcting their children, but she did understand the need to keep their brood in line. As long as he remained within the boundaries of 'do no harm' as set by his compassionate nature, she would hold her tongue. Today that line had clearly been crossed. As much as she loved her husband and thought she could support him in everything, this time she could not.

Had any of their children inflicted harm upon a family member, they would suffer for it. A misguided form of that justice was what led to Jasper's current situation, after all. Carlisle had always been adamant about the rules applying equally to all members of the family, himself included.

If her son had been forced to suffer, then it was only fair that her mate suffer as well. She would allow his guilt to punish him, and if that did its work through temporary isolation, so be it.

"You will do nothing of the kind, young man. You heard your father, Jasper. He needs some time to himself. Let him be."

"He's just going to go out there and beat himself up over nothing. Papa needs support right now, Momma. You're made at him, so you're looking for a way to get even. That's not right. He needs to be with those who love and understand him. Seclusion is the worse possible thing."

"No, baby. This is something that we can't help with. Carlisle needs to face what he's done on his own terms. Don't worry about your father. Let him go and just trust that he'll come back when he's ready," she replied in a tone that carried a strength of conviction she suddenly found lacking.

What if Jasper was right? Was she allowing her anger and disappointment to force her into making a bad decision? She had been, and was still, too hurt by Carlisle's actions to offer him any support. She knew that she would have to assure herself of Jasper's physical, mental, and emotional wellbeing before her anger and the betrayal she felt would begin to wane. Until that time, she was more apt to deliver a critical tongue lashing, than soft words of forgiveness to her mate, and that was not what he needed.

No. This was the right thing to do. She had to believe that. She couldn't truthfully say that she wasn't worried about Carlisle, but she had to think of what was best for her family as a whole. Her focus must remain on keeping them safe, and if her mate posed a threat... Esme shook her head to clear it of such thoughts. There was no reason to consider the remote possibility of that happening.

She knew her husband well, and had to admit that Jasper was correct about one thing. Carlisle would most certainly be castigate himself unmercifully, which was more reason not to go after him. Given time and space, her beloved would come to his senses, see how he failed, and rein himself in, so there would be no cause for future concerns.

She needed this time to calm down, and Carlisle needed time to reflect. Only after that would they be able to talk things out and begin healing the rift she felt tearing through her heart.

"I don't like this one bit," Jasper remarked coolly.

"You don't have to, but you do need to go back to your room," Esme replied as she placed a hand against the boy's back and guided him toward the hall. "That's what Carlisle wants for you — rest and nourishment."

The southerner reached for the stoneware mug, but the matriarch pulled it just out of his reach.

"Bed first, mister. You can have this once you're tucked in."

"I'm not two. Why do you and Papa insist on treating me like I am?" he sulkily grumbled.

"Because you're our baby regardless of age."

Jasper huffed while Esme gently pushed his bed room door open and led him back to bed, before quietly adding, "And because on rare occasion you act like you're entering the terrible twos."

The matriarch gave her son a warm smile, to which he rolled his eyes before sliding between the sheets. It was at that moment that Esme first noticed the faintest shimmer of gold overtaking the crimson flecks in his stress darkened eyes.

"Jasper," she called in shock before sitting down beside him. "Your eyes."

Carefully balancing the still warm mug in his injured right hand, the youth closed his eyes and took a sip. He moaned in pleasure as the thick liquid coated his parched throat. Only then did he hazard to peer at his mother over the rim.

Esme watched as the heated blood went to work restoring and relaxing her son's tense body. As if by magic, the Major's eyes began to brighten until the orbs that studied her had turned a rich ruby speckled topaz.

"Oh my God, Jasper."

Taking another quick sip, the soldier lowered his cup to his lap before gracing his mother with a sad smile.

"It was Papa's doing."

"But, how is that even poss...? Oh." Esme heaved a deep breath as her momentary happiness drained away. She knew that Carlisle had been harsh, but this further evidence brought the picture into sharper focus. The petite brunette couldn't imagine the amount of physical trauma it would take to burn through that much blood so quickly.

"Don't, Momma." The boy spoke softly as he jostled her with an elbow. "I'm not sad in the least, and you shouldn't be either. Papa did what needed doin' to chase my guilt away. I am sorry that it seems to have landed dead center on him, but I haven't felt this good in a coon's age. I feel like I just got a new lease on life.

Sure, I'm a bit sore, and probably will be for another day or two, but I feel like I could walk on air. I didn't realize just how heavily all of this was weighing me down. Now that it's gone, I'm like a new man."

"Baby, you shouldn't have to suffer..."

"Momma, I have peace. Do you know how rare that is for me? How elusive that feeling has been for the better part of a century?"

Jasper scooted down a little, wincing as the friction of his movements caused the fire on his rear to flare. Leaning against Esme, he sighed in relief. His mother responded by wrapping an arm around her son's shoulders to hug him close.

"I'm still worried about Papa out there alone. He could do with some comfort and understanding, don't you think?" He gave Esme a crooked smile before draining his cup.

"Hm."

The matriarch took the mug from his hand, then leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"Would you like some more?"

"Yes, ma'am, but I don't want to put you to any more trouble. I should be able to hunt in a hour or there about. I think I can hold out until then."

"There is no reason for you to 'hold out'.You are on strict bed rest. Those were your doctor's final orders before he departed, and you will follow them."

"But.."

"Jasper Monroe, don't think for a second that I'm not wise to your games. You will stay right where you are. I won't have you running around in your condition to look for your father."

"I wasn't..." His mother's cocked brow made the youth stop and reconsider what he was about to say. "Alright, I was going to go find him. Someone has to."

Esme shook her head as she let out a long suffering sigh.

"If he doesn't come back on his own within a reasonable time, I'll go get him myself. Does that satisfy you?"

"You're not gonna yell at him, are you?"

"Not that it is any of your business, but it is a distinct possibility."

"Then no, that doesn't satisfy me at all."

"You're being impossible," she declared while fishing her phone out of her pocket.

"Who are you calling?" Jasper asked hopefully.

"Reinforcements," Esme stated before her call connected. "Hello? Carmen? Oh, good. It's me..."

AN: I know I need to go back and make some corrections here and there, but I wanted to get this up for y'all. I have one more chapter already written that I hope to get posted before next week.

Esme is not making this easy on Carlisle, but Jasper is still in his daddy's corner. Funny how adversity can bring these two together. Jazzy is right, too. Carlisle is going to need a boost to get himself back together, and I know just the shoulder for him to cry on. ;-)

Thanks for all the support guys. It means the world to me.

Edit: I am sorry that I've managed to upset some readers by taking a darker turn. I realize now that I should have stuck a warning before the last couple of chapters. I'm just exploring a little different aspect of Carlisle's character, before I end the story. I've been accused of making Carlisle too perfect in this story, so I guess I'm trying to find out what happens when he makes a mistake. That is what happened to Jasper; Carlisle made an error in judgement and now they are both suffering for it.