* Content Warning: Depictions of attempted Suicide and Graphic Violence *

Chapter Six: The Sea is Always Gray When You Mourn

Ashland, WI - October, 1921

There was a slight breeze coming off of Lake Superior, enough that it picked up cast off droplets of water from the lapping waves. It was a peaceful place, a beautiful place. A good place to die. From atop the relatively small cliff face it was picturesque, with the dark water rising to the horizon and disappearing against the night sky like peering into infinity. Fifty feet, not all that long a fall but enough given the churn of water below.

"Eric, I'm coming baby." She clutched an old bus token tightly in her hand, a small good luck charm. It was given to her by a handsome doctor who was one of the few people to ever show her kindness. Her last wish had been to give it to her baby boy. Something to hold onto in the dark times. But that wish had been destroyed two days ago, when he died gasping for air.

The mere thought of her baby cemented her resolve, then she took a deep breath and held it, before diving forward, letting momentum flip her over onto her back. Time seemed to slow as she fell through the darkness to her death. The shock of pain as her body hit the frigid water, and blackness took her before she could even fully feel what she had done.

There was no pain. That's what struck her first. How could she be alive if there was no pain. Slowly as she regained consciousness, she opened her eyes, which were partially glued shut by tears and blood. Her head was turned at an odd angle, and just at the edge of her vision she could see her own blood lying splattered across a hundred rocks. She knew that her body was broken beyond repair, and yet somehow she was alive. The fall should have killed her, by all rights she should be dead.

Except death wasn't answering her call. She tried to move, hopeful the attempt would aggravate her injuries and speed up the process. Her legs didn't respond, and neither did her arms. Yet she could still breathe, and her heart was beating steadily, albeit weakly. A horrible idea came to her then, what if she was stuck like this? Would she be in one of those iron lungs for the rest of her life? What had she done to herself?

She tried to call out, to scream. Except she had no voice left. She opened her mouth, letting out a pitiful wail of strangled grief, anger, and frustration, but she couldn't truly express what was in her heart. To be denied the one thing left to her; to join her son in death. She lost all sense of hope, and she began to feel her mind slip. She tried to sleep again, to let the world spin away. Only she couldn't keep them shut. After a while, she could only glare up into the bright sun and hope for death to finally come and take her.

It didn't come.

Then something changed, and a sharp pain began to shoot up and down her body. She wasn't sure if that was better or worse. At least she wasn't paralyzed, but enduring acute, pulsing, and impossible agony wasn't much better. Still, the pain was but a shadow of the gut wound she suffered when her son was taken from her. She couldn't understand why her life had turned out the way it had. She had only ever wanted to be a teacher, and raise a family.

Instead she had been pressured by her family into a marriage she wanted no part of. A marriage that had quickly turned abusive. It got so bad that she knew she had to run the moment she found out she was pregnant. All she wanted was the chance to raise the child in a house filled with love, but that was something that could never happen with Charles Evenson in their lives.

Of course even running didn't give her the happiness she had hoped for. Fate itself seemed to enjoy continually pulling the rug out from under her. Her son had lasted two days before succumbing to lung fever. She hadn't even been able to christen him with a name, Eric. The name kept repeating in her mind as she tried to cope with the loss. She couldn't escape from the dark swirling circle of grief that seemed to be pulling her down.

After she had run from him, she knew Charles would eventually track her down. She couldn't go home because her parents would never understand what kind of monster he had become. Not that they would take her in, they had disowned her the moment they heard the news she had left her husband, spitting that in her face when she called for their help. So at midnight, after crying herself out, she drove up to her favorite spot in the world. It was one of the local's hidden places, with one of most beautiful vistas within a hundred miles. It wasn't well known or very crowded, but she loved it. She discovered it early on in her pregnancy when she had taken long walks along the beaches, stopping frequently to read to her unborn son.

This morning was gray, the sky and the curls of crashing water. The cold was pervasive, sapping anything resembling sense away from her. She tried to figure out where she had drifted. Given the angle she was lying, and the fact she was laying near a rocky part of the beaches that were pitched in several places, she was far from the closest turn off. No random passerby would be coming. The beach was nearly inaccessible without a long hike, so it was entirely likely that her body wouldn't be found for days. She knew she didn't have that long, so she clung to that idea with a renewed hope that she would finally join her son.

She lost track of time, but the fading light in the sky above her gave her a sense that it had been many hours. The stench rising from around her made her eyes water, she couldn't figure out how she was alive, when all she wanted was to end it all. To fade into the darkness and finally be with him again.

She closed her eyes and replayed the memory of a concert her mother took her to when she was a young girl. Before the misery of adulthood and the tortures of her husband. She would never confess it to anyone, but she was thankful for the war. It had taken Charles away and across the ocean, and she had privately wished that some German soldier would get lucky and put a bullet in him. Not that she was so lucky.

She concentrated on that memory of family, of sitting between her parents at the orchestra. The violins sang in an ever rising crescendo, building, building until the full orchestra joined in a cacophony that literally took her breath away. Maybe it would now, the memory of that moment stealing her final breath from her chest. She almost smiled as she felt her body being lifted, wondering if she was finally being taken away to heaven.

Then she heard a voice, close to her ear, whisper soft, and kind. It was a familiar voice, one that she had heard years before. She opened her eyes and saw the doctor who had been so nice to her when she was a stupid teenager…

She knew each and every tree in her neighborhood like they were old friends, but old Marley was her favorite. She even went so far as to name each of them based on their individual peculiarities. On her sixteenth birthday when she went to see Old Marley she knew something was wrong. He looked off, maybe he was dry. Or he could've possibly been unhappy about the new construction in the lot adjacent to his resting place. Still, she ignored the warning signs and took her usual path up his trunk, and failed to notice each limb bending a little more than usual under her weight.

Yet as she ascended she began to feel uneasy, there was something very wrong with her old friend. Then she rounded towards the top and found a large section missing, something had killed the core of him. She froze in place, terrified for own safety, and began to scramble back down towards the ground as quickly as caution would allow. On the last branch, which was just a little too high to jump from, a crack which she had caused on her ascent gave way.

She noticed it a second too late as her foot slipped from the branch above. The wood made a sickening sound, and she was suddenly in free fall. She flailed her arms, in an attempt to find any purchase, but there was nothing close enough to hold onto. The fifteen foot drop wasn't the worst she had ever faced, but she landed wrong and her right leg buckled under her weight. Luckily she caught herself before she fell forward and hurt anything else.

She had to wait nearly an hour before anyone walked by, and the off duty cop who was on rounds for security on the construction site was helpful, but too young to really know how to handle a screaming girl who needed medical attention. When they finally did get to the emergency room, a young beautiful doctor came to examine her.

"Esme Platt, is that right?" The doctor asked as he looked over her chart.

"Yes, I fell out of a tree." She said feeling very embarrassed.

"That happens. I'm Doctor Cullen, we'll get you fixed right up. You'll be running and climbing in no time." He smiled brightly, and in short order the bone was set and a plaster cast was wrapped around her leg.

It wasn't her first broken bone, but her last doctor barely paid attention to her except to be condescending, and then spent five minutes complaining to her parents about her recklessness. After Carlisle set her leg, he helped her to the recovery room, even though he didn't need to, making polite small talk, never once treating her like she was in the wrong. That night he checked on her a few times as she waited for her parents, then stayed overnight to keep tabs on her because they hadn't shown up. The next morning, when they did come in a panic, he calmed them down and explained everything.

Her impression of his kindness quickly formed into an instant crush on him, and she went back to the hospital twice after she healed just to catch a glimpse of him. The first time he was busy, so she just watched as he told a poor family devastating news with grace and compassion. He sat with them and let them ask questions without any hint of impatience. He was a dream, the epitome of kindness and an example of a man she hoped to one day find.

The second time she risked visiting the hospital he noticed her, and gave her a small smile and held up a finger to let her know he would be over in a minute. She hadn't waited more than five before he was sitting down next to her, offering her a cup of water.

"Thank you." She said demurely, taking the cup and a sip before she had to speak again.

"What brings you here Miss Pratt?" He sounded curious but a bit reserved, and almost fearful of her answer.

"I wanted to see you again." She said more timidly than she hoped, hating herself for leaving such an impression, because she desperately wanted him to see her as a woman and not as a child.

"Ah, well. I see you've healed up. Is there a non-medical reason you wanted to see me?" It was a simple question, but his voice hinted that it was a loaded one.

"I've never met anyone like you before." She said meeting his amber eyes somehow without flinching. She didn't know if he could ever find her beautiful, but she wanted to ask him.

Instead he looked away and seemed to ponder her response. Finally he looked back and gave her a tired smile. "I see." He then reached into his pocket. "I wish… I wish you hadn't seen me." He held out his hand and dropped the bus token into her hand. "I hope you have a good life Miss Pratt."

"Esme, call me Esme." She said looking down at the token.

"Esme. Goodbye." He gave her a sad look and walked over to the admitting desk. Then he took off his lab coat and handed it to a nurse before looking back at Esme and smiling. Then he was gone. She ended up walking home, keeping the token as a keepsake. She went back to the hospital once more, but found out he had quit the day they talked. She always wondered why he left like he did, but really it was a way to hold onto the man she held up on a pedestal.

So it had to be a delusion. There was no way he was there at that moment, at the end of her life. He had to be an angel, because there was no other way he could still be so beautiful. She gasped when he smiled down at her.

"My name is Carlisle." She felt warm tears sting the corners of her eyes.

"Esme, do you want to live?" The question was hard to answer, but if it meant he would be a part of her life she had to say yes. She tried to talk, but was unable to get any words out, so instead she nodded. He kissed her forehead in earnest, and a moment later she felt something hot press into her neck.

North of the Cullen Residence - February 6th

Since the newborn girl's adoption into Isabella's twisted little family, Edward's power to read minds had been missing, reduced to static. It seemed Bella and Eliza were twisting and contorting everyone to suit their renegade views. They were turning everyone against him, even more than when Bella humiliated him, took his finger and gave into Alice's soulless perversions.

He wondered if Bella was even marginally redeemable, if she could ever be his Bella again? Not that she was what he ever really wanted. She wasn't nearly as submissive as he desired, likely wouldn't submit to the cruel little deviant fantasies he got lost in on occasion. Eliza, of course, would have to die. Her crimes were too many to name. He simply didn't have any other option. Just defying the Volturi and consorting with a wolf in a… homosexual relationship was enough. The rest, well what she had done to Isabella was beyond reprehensible. Edward's eyes widened, he realized that Eliza's influence hadn't just caused Isabella irrational fury towards him. Maybe it had also perverted Isabella's mind to the point where she found that sort of deviant relationship acceptable… even palatable, enough to accept Alice's attention.

He turned away from the pleasant thoughts of how he would tear Eliza apart limb from limb, and allowed himself to focus on the rest of the coven. The newborn bitch Brianna would have to go too, he had briefly considered going after her, but the presence of the wolves curtailed that little plan. Alice would also have to go, not just for the fact that she betrayed him by even thinking of touching his mate, but also to put her out of her misery, ending her existence would finally save her from her own perversions.

Rosalie and Emmett he wasn't so sure about, although he was pretty confident Jasper had to be dealt with first. Adara was a write off, he cared nothing for Jasper's mate and would end her after he was done with Jasper. Emmett was slow and stupid, he could easily be tricked and perhaps even convinced to reverse his decisions. Rosalie, well Emmett could be the bargaining chip, and threatening Emmett's life would easily sway her back to his side. Or maybe he could have her killed by the Volturi, so that he could get Emmett back without having to deal with her worthless mind another day. It would all come down to her reaction, she would have to learn her proper place. Though thinking on that, Edward realized that it might be too harsh of a lesson for her. It might be kinder if she was simply destroyed, oblivious and vapid to the end.

Over the next few hours, he tried to force his abilities to function again, to no avail. He wondered if it was an extension of Bella's gift to block him, or maybe it was a power the newborn had that she was using unconsciously, or far more likely it was something Eliza was doing to control them all. Not that it mattered, since the effect was the same. His power was reduced to nothing, it was like losing his sight, he was lost without it.

Then suddenly, he could hear the faintest whisper of a mind but couldn't make out the voice, however, at least it was progress. He smiled, but the smile quickly vanished when he realized how close the mind was to him. It wasn't in the distant ruins of Bella's exploded house or even his own house. He tensed up, waiting for the attack, as he stretched his other senses out around him, searching for the person close to him. He was braced for any sudden movement, only it didn't come.

Instead he looked down to find Esme slowly climbing up to a branch near his perch and waited for him to respond.

"What do you want?" He gave Esme an exaggerated frown, he didn't need a lecture.

Esme had her feet balanced perfectly one branch below his, which put her within a few feet of his legs. Her expression set in as neutral an expression as she could muster. When she spoke, her voice was very soft and had a strange quality to it, one Edward had never heard before. "Tell me why."

"Tell you why? What does that mean?" Edward glared down at her for a long moment, snapping at her with anger and frustration, which deepened his already miserable sneer.

Esme's brow furrowed at that response. Edward never had to ask for clarification before. It was obvious something had happened to his ability to read minds, though she didn't know what. She opened up her mind, letting the thoughts that plagued her come to the surface so she didn't have to waste energy hiding them.

"I think you know." She said somberly, hoping to drag out his confession. "But to clarify, I want to know why… everything. Why you've done what you've done, what were your reasons?"

"I don't have to answer to you or to anyone. But I'm feeling generous, so to answer your questions, everything I've done has been to protect our family." He paused, now was finally a chance to get someone on his side. Someone who would listen to him, enough that he could convince her that he was right about everything. "I tried to protect us all. I tried to keep us all together, as a family. I tried not to let this all happen, but I don't understand why everyone seems to be turning on me." He injected as much hurt into his voice as possible, playing on her sympathies as much as he could. It was a performance he had mastered years ago, the same act he had used with the family to side with him on the decision to leave Bella.

She let a bit of hope show on her face, but didn't respond. The words were right, and his face reflected the kindness and confusion that she had wanted to find. Except… except it was the same words, and same expression he had used a hundred times before. She felt her heart die a little as she saw past his charade, saw it for the act it had always been. She kept her expression the same, but inside her anger began to grow again.

As silence greeted him from below he knew she was hearing and absorbing what he was saying, someone was finally buying his story. He just had to close the performance with something she couldn't refute. He let that silence hang for a few seconds longer, pondering how he could phrase it. Then his head shot up as a thought occurred to him. Whether it was true or not, Alice could never prove he had lied, and with the right partner believing in him, he knew he could convince everyone that he was right.

Edward kept his voice tentative, almost thoughtful, "Isabella's personality was twisted and formed by the Volturi and that daughter of hers. I wanted her back, nothing more, so we could be a family again." He beamed down conviction in his words, convinced that she bought it completely.

She stared up at him, and after another long moment she finally responded with a slight nod. "I guess that means there's only one thing left to do." Her voice was gentle. Edward smiled down at her with the same false expression of love he'd given her his entire life, despite struggling to keep the smug grin off his face, he had convinced her, and she was going to help him. Not that she was capable of anything else, but he did have an instant of doubt when she first arrived.

"What's that?" He asked with eager anticipation, not that he expected her to express anything more than a desire to get her family back together.

"To say goodbye." Her reply was harsh, filled with anger. The expression she had kept on her face shifted to her true feelings, and the sudden hatred caught Edward completely off guard.

He furrowed his brow, trying to understand what she meant. However before he could come up with a response, her arm shot out and grabbed him by the left foot. Then her other hand slammed into his left knee in a vicious and precise strike severing his leg at the joint.

The shock, and the impact of the attack caused him to let out a cry of pain. His hands let go of the branch he was clinging to, in an involuntary move to find the leg that was now missing. That simple movement shifted his center of balance in just the right way to cause him to topple out of the tree, hitting several branches as he fell. One particularly large branch flipped him so that he was falling face first, flailing uselessly for a handhold to stop his descent. Until he slammed into the ground with enough force to cause a small crater.

Esme, her face set in a grim mask, jumped out of the tree right behind him. She gave him no time to recover, landing on his back just as he had just begun to push himself up. This forced his face back into the mud and pine needles several inches. Edward let out a grunt from the impact, a grunt that quickly turned into another cry of pain. Esme wasted no time when landed on his back, she had thrown his amputated leg away while she descended, so her hands were free when she reached down and grabbed a hold of his right arm at the wrist and upper bicep. She pulled it up and backward with one merciless yank, and then quite deliberately stomped down on his shoulder with as much force as she could muster while she twisted the arm.

It was a simple but effective move, and it did its job, severing Edward's arm right at the shoulder. She repeated her actions with his other arm, rendering him almost defenseless. Edward managed to turn his head, so his face was out of the mud, so she could hear his surprisingly soft cries of protest and pain that were laced with genuine disbelief and fear. Sincerity dripped from his voice for the first time, and the change wasn't lost on Esme.

"Mother... please! Stop! What are you doing?" He called to her pathetically, as he realized he was in mortal danger and had to work quickly to get out of this.

Edward was relieved when she seemed to hear his pleas and stepped off his back. Then she slid her foot under him and flipped him over unceremoniously, like he was just an oversized pancake. His relief was short-lived as he looked up into her face. He had never seen her look at him like this before. Her expression was beyond angry, it was filled with a hate he didn't know she was capable of. Her usually lovely amber eyes bored into his, and he was struck with how cool and calm they were. This wasn't fury, this was controlled rage.

"I need to hear it Edward. I need the truth, don't evade the answer and don't attempt to lie to me, or I'll know." When she spoke, her voice wasn't as angry as her expression was. It was dark, and precise, and her demand was not up for negotiation.

Edward sighed, she truly was as lost as the others. Since she had the upper hand, for the time being had to play along, he knew there was no way she would take this beyond a simple flash of anger. She had done damage to him, that was more than enough to prove her point. She would lecture him and be done. Though it was a shame that she would have to die too. In a way he was fond of her. She had tried her best to be a mother to him, no matter how badly she failed in that regard.

"I don't blame you for this. She must've gotten to you too." Edward looked for any of the love she usually had in her eyes, and at the moment it was very disconcerting to find none. Edward groaned softly in exaggerated pain, in a vain attempt to evoke some sympathy from her, but even that didn't work.

He grimaced, and frowned and finally flinched under her gaze as it bored into his eyes. "Fine. I imagine this is about Isabella, like always. I will never understand it. How are all of you so obsessed with that bitch. I didn't even find her all that attractive, she was so average. Not particularly smart, no real exceptional traits except for her ability to block my gift. Why her, why her over me? What's so special about Bella fucking Swan?"

Esme's gaze, if possible, seemed to narrow even more, and the daggers she was sending at him became even more piercing. "That's the question. If you cared so little about her, why did you bring her into our family? Why did you put us through all of that grief, if you never really wanted her in the first place? We all heard what Alice said about her vision, but is that true?"

Edward snarled, his anger finally getting the best of him, "if it hadn't been for Alice's… sick infatuation, I would've just given in to my lust for Bella's blood. I probably would have buried her out in the woods never to be found, or left her so that it looked like suicide. As is, I almost took her in the forest when we left her, but I knew it would cause too much of an uproar. Besides, I was already on the outs with you and Rosalie and Alice, Emmett would barely talk to me and Jasper was cordial at best. You all blamed me for leaving her behind. Hell, you barely spoke to me for two years afterward, even after I told all of you it was her choice. Her choice, not mine."

Edward had begun to try to sit, which was a bit comical without arms, but Esme found no amusement in it, and stopped him with a foot planted on his chest, which kept him pinned to the ground. Her voice was low and dangerous."Her choice? Even then, even when I convinced myself to believe you, I knew it was a lie. I knew it. In my soul, I knew. She was a part of us, and would never have given us up. We had no choice, you forced our hand, and made us go. I had to trust you, and you betrayed that trust."

Edward sneered as he looked up at Esme, "I should have just killed her. Then none of this would've happened. You can't deny that. And you can't deny that I was right. Look at what's happened! Isabella became a monster, just as I said she would! Our family has been split apart, all because of this. I could have stopped this all if I had just killed her when I saw Alice's vision that first day, before she even had a chance to walk into our lives!"

Esme's eyes became hooded, and her tone softened slightly, "Yes, tell me about that, what did you actually see?"

A look of disgust passed over Edward's face as he hesitated just a moment before responding. "I saw the vision, but it was so much worse than she described. You have no idea how awful that future was. Despite her happiness, Carlisle and Emmett were dead, I was involved with that insipid human Angela… who I must add is even more vile than Isabella. Dark and brooding, what happened to her kindness? That was the only thing about her I liked, that lovely dull little mind of hers. So, what? I'm supposed to give in to a fantasy where I lose my father and end up with some small town girl, while Alice shacks up with another human girl, breaking up her proper relationship with Jasper? I knew at that moment I couldn't let it happen. So I sacrificed searching for my own happiness to protect our family, once again!"

Esme stared down at Edward, the true selfishness of his nature finally striking home. It left her utterly at a loss for words. It was one thing to suspect all of this, but it was quite another to hear him admit it openly. Not just confirm it, but actually be proud of his actions, without the need to justify his reasons for it. She didn't need another reason, but still… she wanted… no she needed to hear all of it.

She kept her voice thoughtful, and intentionally put a trace of understanding in her tone, "and that's why you informed the Volturi about Eliza and her relationship with Leah?" It came out more as a statement than a question.

Edward nodded, "Of course! You see what Bella has become. She's a monster without conscience, and has most definitely lost her soul! She traded her soul for immortality, and sure she's powerful, but at what cost? She's totally lost her way, she doesn't even attempt to curb her impulses like us, just look at her eyes! I knew the Volturi would take steps when they found out about Eliza and her… consorting with a mutt, steps that needed to happen. Such a beast cannot walk around unleashed. Then somehow they managed to survive, which doesn't seem possible. Another mark showing how unnatural they are, possibly tied to something demonic. You've seen how the shadows react to Bella's anger."

"You did it out of anger, because Isabella hurt you?" Emse kept her voice the same somehow, even though she was practically vibrating with anger.

"I admit I was angry, but they are like a plague, they poison and corrupt anyone and anything they touch. They need to be destroyed. Don't you get it?" Edward's voice came out as a plea for understanding, although he could clearly see he was getting through to her.

Esme was quiet for several long moments as she apparently considered his words. When she spoke, her voice was very gentle. "I get it. I finally get it. I chose poorly. I'm sorry Edward." Esme's expression was suddenly very kind, and she leaned down to push back his tangled, wet, and muddy hair from his eyes.

Edward breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh thank God. I was worried that whatever they do to people had gotten to you too. I actually thought you were going to kill me for a second there."

Edward looked up at her troubled expression as she looked down at his injuries, he shook his head, his smile magnanimous. Now that he'd convinced her, he'd solidify his hold if he appeared forgiving. "It's okay, Don't worry about it, you were angry, just help me put myself back together."

Esme stood back up and resumed the pressure on his chest. Then held up her hand as a small spherical drone landed in it. She looked at the device for a few seconds before putting it in her jacket pocket. Then she leveled him with a calm and cold look.

"You misunderstand me. I get that you were never worth my love. I finally see that I've wasted so much time with you when you never deserved a second of it. I loved a mask, a mask you've worn for centuries, that hid your true face from us. I chose poorly a century ago, when I didn't go with my instincts. I gave up the fight, and let your selfishness destroy a young woman's life. You're wrong, all of this can be laid at your feet, not Isabella's." Esme's reply chilled him to his absolute core, and for the first time since he was human, he felt genuine fear.

Edward tried to reply, but was cut off as Esme pushed against his chest as a distinct warning not to talk.

Her voice ascended to a loud rant. "I should've known that you were wrong for her, but I was blind. Stupid and blind. You've caused us all…" She took a deep sad breath, "so much hurt. Alice has been walking around nursing a shattered heart for nearly a century. Our family has been living a lie just as long, longer even. I lost my daughter because of you. I lost a century of memories with her. Do you have any idea what your selfishness has done to her?"

Any reply Edward was going to make to that was cut off when she suddenly stepped forward and brought down her other foot on his neck.

Esme's voice dropped once again to a mournful, regretful tone. "I am sorry Edward, I'm sorry for failing you. For not being strong enough to see you for who… or what you've always been. If I had, maybe I could've found you some help, but it's far too late now. You know, I had always thought of you as my baby, my son. The one that I lost. But you're not even close. He died two hundred years ago."

Esme's voice turned even harder, "I understand now, the reason why you would never turn someone even if you professed to love them. It is simple: You never had a soul, you were always a monster, reprehensible, despicable, evil... Carlisle should've let you die on that hospital bed." She clenched her jaw, and any remaining kindness as well as all doubt vanished from her face, and she squeezed down with the foot pressed below his chin, and began placing extreme pressure on his neck.

Edward's eyes widened, as he realized what was about to happen. But part of him still felt she couldn't be serious. That she couldn't go through with this. As the pressure increased on his neck, he realized that maybe… just maybe he'd underestimated Esme. His last thought was that it didn't matter. He'd be put back together eventually. If she didn't do it, Carlisle would. Carlisle loved his eldest son, more than any of the others, and Edward believed he'd save him.

Esme knew it was too late to do anything else. She was implacable. She had to do this. There was no other option. Edward had made his choice, and his manipulations had caused her family far too much pain to forgive. He didn't even show a basic understanding of what was wrong with his actions, nor the barest hint of remorse. Just a glimmer of self doubt and she wouldn't have been able to go through with it. Instead she found that he was absolutely convinced he was right, and he would continue to be a danger to the rest of her family.

No matter how much it hurt her, no matter how much it tore her apart. She could not allow him to live.

If she had been human, tears would've been flowing from her eyes, and they would have been genuine tears of grief. Not for the creature whose life she was ending. No, the tears would've been for the life he could've had. For the man he should've been. The tears would have been a mother's sorrow for the pain her other children had gone through at his hands. The tears would have been for the absolute loss she felt in that moment.

Then with one final push, she separated his head from his shoulders. It was almost anticlimactic, his entire body going limp accompanied by dull grating thump. She stared down at his body, and knew that it would eventually pull itself back together. A part of her was tempted to let that happen. Then she looked down into the blank eyes of her former son once more before she turned away.

Finally, she let the emotion of the day overtake her, and in one violent and loud outpouring of raw emotion, she let out a scream of anguish for the son she never got a chance to see grow up. For the fact that she let this monster into her heart, she let him replace her own blood, to the point that she had missed out on the pain that his actions had caused her other children. Children who deserved so much more than she had been able to give them recently.

She screamed with rage, and pain, and utter desolation. It was a scream that made the trees shudder, and it felt like they bent away from the power of her voice. It was a scream that could be heard all the way down into Forks. Although to human ears it sounded like nothing more than a wolf howling at the moon.

Cullen Residence, February 6th

Carlisle had gotten down a book he hadn't read in decades from one of the multitudes of volumes shelved in his office, and was idly flicking through the pages, more as a distraction than for any real interest in re-reading the book itself. He had just read a page and decided to put it back and pick another, when he heard a wretched heartrending scream, so primal that it was impossible not to flinch from the intensity of it.

The flinch was worse for him though, in his own heart he felt a tiny bit of that agony. Especially since he would recognize that voice anywhere. Esme was in pain, and that terrified him more than anything he had ever experienced, more than when he went through the fires of transformation. He blurred into motion in the next instant, and hit the forest floor in a fraction of a second. The glass window of his office was shattered, not that he cared, all that mattered was Esme. He barely noticed when he was joined by the Denali less than half a mile out from the house.

The Denali members all wore their worry on their faces, Tanya in particular was scared by the sheer agony conveyed in the scream. Nothing good could come from a sound like that. Whatever Esme was going through was going to change Carlisle in a very permanent way, and she wasn't sure he was strong enough to survive another loss. Yet they moved as one toward the source of the scream.

Esme was standing on the edge of a cliff, staring off into the sea which was gray from an impending storm. The churn of white waves were crashing against the bottom of the cliff, creating a distant roar as the water broke against the rocks. The following sound was almost like an exhale as the surge flowed back out into the sea.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted when the entire Swan coven showed up suddenly. Isabella and Alice led, followed shortly after by Eliza, Leah, Brianna, Charlie, Angela, Zoey, Talia and Henry. Finally Emmett, Jasper, Rosalie, Adara showed up as well as nearly a dozen of the shifters led by Michelle.

"Esme, are you okay?" Carlisle asked with more than a little desperation. He had never seen her like this before. Except once, the morning he found her on the beach, broken and bloody. He had assumed she had fallen, and his memory of her as a teenager was so indelible that he just couldn't let her die. Had he known at the time why she was on that beach, he wouldn't have intervened, but she had said she wanted to live. He never regretted his decision, but he wondered if that loss had stayed with her all these years. So maybe the emotional rollercoaster of the last few days had been too much for her?

Esme lifted her head, but didn't look at her husband. Ignoring his question entirely. Instead, she turned her head to fix her gaze on Isabella. She was silent for what seemed like an eternity as her eyes took in her coven as a whole, but then focused on the point where Isabella and Alice's fingers were intertwined. She stared at their hands for the longest of moments, before she finally spoke, her voice was soft, but carried to everyone present.

"Isabella, I know I don't deserve it, but I… I have to know something. Will you answer a question for me?" The words came out very stilted, and a bit formal. Esme strained to hold onto her composure, because it hurt to talk to any of them like this, as an outsider with a request. It was tearing her up inside. The turmoil was reflected in her face when she spoke. Carlisle moved to take her in his arms, but before he took more than a step she held up her hand, without even looking at him, commanding him to stop. It halted him in his tracks.

"What do you want to know?" Isabella said, feeling a strange sense of tension. She found herself resisting the urge to walk over and give Esme as much comfort as she could. A frown crossed her face as she realized the impulse came from a place of love. She still held a deep affection for Esme, perhaps even a daughter's love. She wasn't sure if she was capable of that kind of emotion, but after Charlie, after everything, it seemed like anything was possible now.

"All those years ago, would you have chosen Alice if you were given the choice?" Esme spoke quietly, but her question carried a heavy sense of importance with it. The question elicited several slight sighs and gasps from the large group gathered, but no one spoke up.

Esme's eyes moved from Isabella to Alice, and then flicked down to their joined hands again lingering there as she awaited an answer. Isabella knew what Esme was asking. It was the same question that she should have been asked a century before. Was it too late for her to ask now? Isabella wasn't sure if she should answer, but knew what her answer was back then, and what it was now that Alice had become a part of her life again.

"Yes, it's always been her." Isabella didn't sound bitter or angry, but there was a darkness to her voice as if the emotions were deeply complicated. No one spoke for several seconds before she continued, this time her voice mirrored the loss Emse felt in her entire being. "All of you were my family. I made my choice, and he didn't care. His selfishness cost me all of you. He cost me the love of my life for nearly a century. The only good things to come out of his actions were my daughters."

Isabella's response was gentle, but carried great import of its own. As she stared at Esme, a look of confidence came across in a smile that almost no one would've expected to see on Isabella's face. It wasn't a bitter and mocking smile, nor was it a feral smile that heralded pain, but a genuine one. The first that Esme had seen on her. Esme flicked her gaze up, and locked her eyes with Isabella's for what seemed like an eternity.

Then she nodded once, and snapped her fingers down at the brush in front of her. A spark ignited from the tips, and a flare up of matches lit up the night. Then she tossed the book on the leaves and twigs next to her, which caught fire almost instantly. It grew within seconds into a bonfire, even though there was almost no visible fuel. Then everyone realized that the thick smoke billowing off it was a deep purple.

It took several more seconds for the realization to set in. Nearly everyone gasped, but no one tried to move to save the remains of the vampire Esme had set on fire.

Carlisle fell to his knees, staring at the fire raging in front of him. He knew exactly who was under the burning blanket of rotten leaves and twigs, and that it was far too late to save his son. He stared for a few seconds more, and then buried his face in his hands.

The Denali stared in shock. They had been witness to the drama that had unfolded for the past few days, as well as had been privy to everything that happened, but the idea that it might push Esme to do something like this was astonishing. None of them had words.

Emmett, Jasper, and Adara stared at the flames, with equally dumbfounded expressions. Rosalie's expression was one of muted satisfaction, and concern as her eyes flicked between Esme and the fire.

Alice wasn't even looking at the fire, she was watching Isabella, concern clearly written on her face. Edward being dead didn't really bother her. She was more concerned about the emotions that it would bring up in her mate.

Isabella was also staring in shock. She was astounded by the fact that Esme had done this, but even harder to absorb was the fact that she was seeing Edward's funeral pyre right in front of her. Very nearly her entire life had been colored by his presence. She didn't realize how much of her emotions were tied up into Edward's fate. Although she wasn't sure which affected her more, the fact that she had wanted to see him dead for going on ninety years, or the idea that Esme had just, for all intents and purposes, set fire to her son.

Esme watched the fire and sighed once, it was over. He was finally gone. She turned away from the flames, knowing she would never look back. She looked to Tanya and held out her hand. Tanya moved over and reached out, Esme dropped a tiny thumb drive into her palm. "For when he's ready, watch and you'll understand what I mean."

Then without another word Esme turned to face her daughter again, the one that Edward had kept from her for over a century, and Isabella met her eyes fully once more.

"Esme?" Carlisle said before Esme could say anything else. She broke eye contact with Isabella and turned halfway towards her husband, but didn't look directly at him. Carlisle had finally gotten back onto his feet, but was unsteady enough that Irina was helping him stand. He was still staring at the fire, a look of grief on his face. "How could you do this?"

"Someone had to put him down, he was nothing more than a monster. As soulless as he always claimed he was. I couldn't let that thing endanger my children for another moment." She sneered at the flames even though she didn't look at them. Then she tried to look at Carlisle, but found that she couldn't. She couldn't blame him for the grief that he was feeling over the loss of their false son. She wished she didn't have to be responsible for that grief, but paradoxically she found herself irrationally angry at Carlisle for feeling it. She reached into her other pocket and pulled something out, looking at it briefly before tossing it on the ground next to Carlisle and turning away again.

He picked up the object and turned it over shaking his head in confusion, then it dawned on him what he was holding. "You kept this?"

Esme stopped and had to push back emotions the act of returning the bus token had stirred up within her. She couldn't look at him, because it was too hard. Instead she simply nodded.

"You're leaving me..." Carlisle muttered, holding tightly to the token and almost crushing it his fist. An object of importance, of the past, of a time before he had even found Edward. When a young woman noticed him when at the wrong time, in the wrong place. He had left that job because of her, even though he thought of nothing else but her for years afterward. Her face, her eyes... he had fallen for a teenager back then. He never expected to find her as a woman, and often considered himself grateful for the hand of fate that must've pushed him to go on a long hike that day. He looked hard at the back of her head, deeply conflicted over what to do next.

Esme tried to toss those thoughts of fury from her mind, and was partially successful. It wasn't Carlisle's fault for the way Edward had turned out. Edward had fooled him just like he'd fooled everyone else. But she couldn't let herself fall into that hole of self recrimination, just like she knew she could never love Carlisle again as long as he held onto his love for Edward. Perhaps that was unfair, but if he loved her, he would have to put Edward behind him, if she was ever going to be able to accept him again. She held a bit of hope in her heart that he might eventually understand why she had acted against Edward, but she knew that was a fool's hope no matter how much it broke her heart.

Silence filled the clearing, no one knew what to say. It was Esme who once again broke the silence.

"I'll just… go. None of you need me here anymore." Esme said with clear reluctance. She didn't want to leave, she couldn't imagine her life without her family. At the same time she couldn't bring herself to go into the flames with Edward. He wasn't worth following into the next life, the irony of the parallel made her almost laugh at the absurdity of it. Then she turned away from everyone gathered, making it clear of her intentions. Her feet felt heavy as she began to walk away, although her footfalls were silent, leaving her home and their lives forever.

"No." The voice rang through the clearing causing Esme to stop though she didn't turn around.

"No." Isabella repeated, only this time the voice came from directly behind her. Esme hadn't even heard her move, and jumped when she felt a hand come to rest gently on her shoulder. Still she didn't turn around, she couldn't face her.

Isabella's voice was soft, and it sounded very much like she was talking out her own feelings to herself as much as explaining them verbally. "I… I don't want you to go." She paused for a moment, like she had metaphorically cleared a lump from her throat.

When she started again, Isabella's voice was noticeably stronger, "You're the only mother I have left. You're the only real mother I've ever known. Ren... Renee was more like a best friend than a parent. You loved me in a way that I had never had, and when you were gone it felt like there was a hole inside of me that could never be replaced. I'm tired of feeling empty. You are a part of me, of us and I want you back... if you can accept me for who I am now." Isabella's voice sounded nervous at the end, though she could feel the flow of elation from Eliza and Brianna.

Esme turned her head and looked at her, and the vacant dead expression on Esme's face melted. A warm smile crossed her lips, and she rushed the two steps to Isabella and buried her head in her shoulder, hugging her harder than she had ever been able to before. A moment later Isabella wrapped her arms around her, and buried her face in Esme's shoulder. She could feel the younger woman let go of her pent up emotions, and it was more than she had hoped for. Then she saw a second pair of arms around her, and knew that Alice had joined them. Esme gathered her wits together, even though she was at the point of an emotional breakdown, "I love you, unconditionally. I cannot begin to explain to you how much I've missed you, Isabella."

Isabella's reply was so soft that Esme thought she might have imagined it, and knew she was the only one that could hear it. "Mother, mom…You can call me Bella."

Author's Notes:

So Esme's backstory is mostly canon with a few embellishments. I think SM must have an abuse hang up, because that is three major characters that suffered pretty horrible abuse (Bree and Rosalie being the other two). This was a hard chapter, navigating through the emotions and getting Esme to the point where she took a life was not an easy one. Yet she made the most sense when it came down to it no matter how much it tears apart her family. She didn't expect anyone to forgive her, or accept her actions.

The other obvious question, and I know many of you have asked this already, how is Carlisle so blind? That will be answered soon.

One of the comments on the last chapter was a long (and well argued) counter to what happens in this chapter. While I do understand the narrative reasons for your argument the counter is fairly plain. Edward's story was done, the only thing left was to push him deeper into villainy. I know there is a valid argument for tying him to the larger antagonists, but it honestly feels like a stretch and keeping him around would ultimately prove a distraction from the later antagonists. We don't necessarily want Edward taunting Isabella when facing off against Aro or Joham... or god forbid Victoria.

So why Esme?

It will be further explained in an upcoming chapter, but the short answer is she was the only one that made sense. Every other character, even Talia, Henry and Angela just don't work on a narrative level.