So here is Carlisle's POV of Edward's return; this corresponds to 1931, Chapters 8-11. I want this to demonstrate how much Edward missed in these events, despite his ability to read Carlisle's mind. It's a bit tricky though: my whole point is that Edward can't see Carlisle's emotions here, but of course I had to write them out in words- so just assume that the EPOV version in the real story is what Edward is perceiving, as opposed to the extra insight we get here.

Carlisle POV

"And what did she say to that?"

Esme threw back her head and laughed, a sound like sparkling wind chimes that always warmed my heart. "She said that since her doll liked the dress I had made so well, that I needed to get busy making a hat and gloves to match!"

I laughed along with her, running my fingers through her hair with my right hand while I drove with my left. She was so beautiful, and so carefree, when she talked about the children at the hospital. Her life had truly opened up in the past couple of years, and she now found joy in spending time with humans, as I did. Neither of us had the luxury of associating with the local humans anymore, but she didn't mind the commute. In the beginning, she had only gone in on the days when I worked; she had been too timid to make the drive herself. But as she had gotten more comfortable with her new human friends- especially the children- she had grown more bold. Sometimes she even made the drive on her own, now. I still preferred to run, when I went alone, but women's attire, not to mention hairstyles, didn't stand up so well to that.

But tonight there was a fundraiser, to raise money for the Children's Ward at Jordan General Hospital. Esme had signed up to bring four dozen cookies, and we would be making the run together. I wasn't quite sure how I had gotten roped into this one; not only had I agreed to help Esme bake the disgusting things, but then I had to carry them on the three-hundred mile run to the hospital. If we had gotten home earlier, we could have driven. But Esme and I had lost track of time out in the woods this morning, and morning had turned into afternoon. We had just dashed to the grocery store and, if we could bake fast enough, we might get there in time to be fashionably late to the fundraiser.

These busier days were the best. And sometimes, on days like this, and when Esme was happy like this, I was able to pretend that everything was all right, and that our family wasn't torn in half.

But it was. And too often, there were days, and nights, where we deeply felt the emptiness that our son had left behind. Last night had been particularly difficult. A tall, thin seventeen-year-old boy had come into the Emergency Room with a severe asthma attack. He had green eyes and bronze-colored hair, and as his mother pulled him into the treatment room, I had stood frozen as I watched him struggle to breath. Memories from 1918 had assaulted me, and when Esme had come to meet me at the end of my shift, she had taken one look at my eyes and suggested that we not go home this morning. We had gone to the woods instead, and that was why she was still dressed in her crumpled candy striper uniform, and why my bag was still down by her feet, next to the groceries. We had gone more than twenty-four hours without being home.

We would never have done this in the beginning. Esme hadn't wanted to leave the house for months, and whenever we did go hunting, she faithfully tacked up the note for Edward. That note, and our hopes for his quick return, had eventually been destroyed by time. We still had hope, but it was a fool's hope. Wherever my son was, coming home was probably the last thing on his mind.

I still pictured him with his golden eyes, though I knew the truth. Sometimes I wondered if he had found any friends to run with. I wondered if he ever played the piano anywhere. I wondered if he was happy; I hoped he was. But on nights like last night, I worried. I worried that Eleazar was right- that my son had gone to Aro. I worried that he had wandered too far South, and gotten himself swept up in the Wars. I worried that he had run into a hostile coven and had been…

Stop it, I ordered myself. He's alive, and he's free. He has to be.

I glanced over at Esme again, breathing in her scent and drinking in the sight of her smile. It had, ironically, been her accident which had brought about this new growth. She had gone hunting alone that day; something she normally didn't do. And when she had come home that night, the front of her dress covered in human blood and her eyes red, I had comforted her the best I could. In the days that had followed, she had determined that like me, she wanted to learn to be around humans, so that she could keep them safe from herself.

And now, two years later, she had found so much purpose in helping out in the Children's Ward. And her ruse was a simple one; she often reminded the nurses how squeamish she was around blood. So whenever blood was likely to be exposed, they kindly let her know ahead of time, and she left the area. It rarely came up anyway, since she was usually there at night. I was so proud of my Esme, and I was so relieved that she had found something like this.

But I knew that we would need to move on, and soon. We had already stayed far too long. We had gotten the groceries in another town today , and we were careful never to answer the door. But the risk went up every day, and we would need to find a way to leave some sort of permanent message for Edward to find, should he ever check back here. But no matter how many times we moved, and no matter how many centuries passed, I would have hope. I simply didn't have any other choice; vampires are unchanging in these matters. We would always be incomplete without our son.

"Carlisle?"

I smiled back at her, nodding. "Well, it's a good thing you're a vampire, darling. I doubt a human would be able to make gloves for a doll that tiny!"

She laughed again, wondering aloud if she should also make a little handbag. I pulled up to the house, and she gathered up the groceries.

"Do I really have to?" I teased, eyeing the cookie ingredients with distaste.

"Yes, you do," she laughed. "Besides, it's your fault that we lost track of time this afternoon."

"True, true," I sighed, picking up my doctor's bag. I opened the door and started toward the house-

Edward.

I sniffed again, drawing deeply on the air this time. There was no doubt about it! My heart exploded with hope as I looked around wildly. Where was he?! "Edward?"

Esme had frozen, as well, her nose in the air. She broke into a run, making a beeline for the house.

"Here."

I spun around, and I would have sworn I felt my dead heart stir again as I saw my son step out of the shadows. Esme reached him first, and he flinched away from her embrace. He looked awful. He was barefoot, and his clothes were frayed and torn. His hair was a tangled mass, his eyes downcast, and he flinched again as I drew near. This was not the same young man that had struck off on his own four years ago.

He finally looked up, and Esme gasped in shock. I didn't need to see his eyes to know why. But as I ran up, I still faltered in my mental greeting, when I saw them; they were a sickly-looking orange, and he looked afraid.

Esme recovered herself quickly. "Well, it doesn't matter," she said firmly. "The important thing is that you're here! Come inside and tell us everything you've been… up to." Her voice trailed off, and Edward flinched again as she looped her arm through his. He allowed it, though, and let her pull him toward the house. I couldn't resist, either; I had to touch him, to know that he was real. I laid my hand on his back, silently urging him along. When Esme unlocked the front door, he sucked in a breath and moved backwards, looking skittish again. I kept my hand firmly pressed against his back.

"Come on, son," I said quietly, rejoicing as I savored the words. His orange gaze jerked back to me when I spoke. He glanced back toward the yard again, and I began to panic. What if this was just a visit, and not a homecoming? We have a lot to talk about, but for Esme's sake please join us, at least for a while.

He swallowed and turned, stepping over the threshold with a sad smile. He flipped on the lights, his eyes moving immediately to his piano. His face took on a starved, hopeful look as his fingers twitched towards it.

Esme saw her chance. "Would you, Edward, for me? I tuned it myself earlier this year." When he hesitated, she gave him a little push. "Just one song, my song?" she pleaded.

Edward gave in, and sat down to the piano, running his fingers gently over the keys. And as soon as the first note sounded, I took a deep breath, resisting the urge to crush him in my arms. The living room was filled with his music, and the house with his scent. I laid one hand on his shoulder, and one on Esme's, and it was all I could do not to weep as I thanked God, over and over, for bringing our son home. The details didn't matter right now.

The song ended too soon, and then he stood, looking uncertain again. I was uncertain as well; what could I say to put him at ease? But Esme knew best, as usual.

"As beautiful as ever," she told him, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, I've missed your music! I've missed you." Before he could pull away, she darted in and kissed him on the cheek. Instead of flinching this time, he pulled her into a crushing hug, taking deep gulps of her scent.

"I've missed you too, Mom," he whispered, his face still buried in her hair. I ached to hold him, as well, but I didn't know how he would take it. The color of his eyes told me that he had, at least temporarily, been hunting animals. But I didn't know anything, beyond that. He was certainly not at peace; that much was sure. As happy as I was, I felt like I was waiting for the hammer to fall.

Sure enough, as he pulled away from Esme, his face was painfully devoid of expression. Esme's smile began to fade as whatever mental conversation they were having took a turn for the worse. He swallowed as he held her gaze, and pain filled his eyes suddenly. I had to do something!

"Esme?" I said quickly. They both broke their concentration and looked at me. "We need to leave in about an hour," I continued. "Why don't you get the cookies started… I'd like to show Edward something."

She frowned at me, surely wondering why I was bothering to go ahead with our plans. But she glanced back at Edward again, telling him something silently before she turned to go to the kitchen. We both watched her as she left, and Edward turned to me with a ghost of his old smirk on his face.

"Cookies?" he asked.

I nodded, still looking proudly after her. "She's grown quite a bit since you left. She's begun volunteering at the hospital, and forming friendships with some of the nurses and long-term patients. Last year she dusted off her cookbook, and she's been at it ever since. Tonight the children's ward is having a bake sale to raise money for new beds."

Edward's smirk faded as I spoke, and he looked toward the kitchen, obviously impressed.

"Walk with me, son," I said as I motioned toward the patio door. I still didn't know what to say to him, or even what to think. All I knew was that I had to keep him here, and help him. As we walked, I mentally reviewed the past half hour, trying to show him how relieved I was to have him here. We sat together on the bench at the back of the yard, and Edward waited in silence for me to speak. He looked so lost.

"Edward, how long have you been back on the animal diet?" I asked hopefully. He stopped breathing, and I finally saw the guilt I had been looking for.

"You knew?" he whispered. He seemed to shrink in on himself, and he was once again the seventeen-year-old I had brought into this life. He needed a father to guide him, to anchor him; he always would. Pretending that he hadn't spent the past four years on the wrong path wasn't going to help either of us. I looked away, unable to watch as the time for his confession neared. I hated to see him cowed like this, but I had to be sure of what his intentions were. If my dream were to come true- our family restored- I needed to know where he stood. I ask again, how long?

"Two months," he answered timidly.

"Humans, the rest of the time?"

"Yes."

I had thought I was prepared for this moment, the moment of his confession. I thought I had gotten used to the idea of what he had chosen to do. But as image after image flashed before my eyes, my heart broke anew, not only for his victims, but for my son, and for the eternal scars that he had inflicted on himself. How deeply had he descended? I closed my eyes in anguish as the images became even darker: Edward breaking windows, stealing into children's bedrooms at night.

"No!" he interrupted. "Never. Only criminals, the worst ones, and only when I was sure."

I suddenly felt very old, and very tired. Was he still trying to justify his actions? Was he not truly repentant, not even now? "They were people, Edward."

"Carlisle, I-"

"Look over there, son." I nodded over toward the brightly illuminated kitchen, where we could see Esme going about her business, looking for all the world like a human housewife. Couldn't he see that this was the best way to live? Couldn't he see that this was what he had left behind, what was waiting for him?

"Edward, when you left… she was heartbroken. She couldn't understand why you would leave just when our coven was truly becoming a family." I couldn't understand." I want you to stay. Even if you decide not to, you will always be my son. But if you're going to be a part of this family again, I need to know you are serious about your intentions. I cannot allow you to stay, and to continue living like you have. It will tear us apart. All of us," I added, nodding significantly toward Esme again. I took a deep breath. "Edward, are you truly ready to commit to this lifestyle again?"

He swallowed, but he didn't hesitate. "Yes, sir."

I wanted to jump up and shout for joy! But I still had to know. "And… will you stay?" I asked, looking away and holding my breath as I waited.

Silence.

I didn't dare look at him; I was too afraid of what I would find. We can help you. Please say yes, son… at least try.

More silence, and my heart began to sink. Please…

"Carlisle, do you want me back?"

I jerked my head back toward him, to find him staring at me angrily. What kind of a question was that? "You know I do."

"I can't see why you would," he said disgustedly, lurching to his feet. I jumped up beside him, but I didn't think he even saw me; he was frozen like a statue as he stared through the kitchen window, at his mother. His fists clenched tighter and tighter as his face changed. I had seen that look once before… right before he left. His right foot inched toward the woods, and I began to panic again. I threw memory after memory at him- every time I could think of that might remind him how much it meant to be a family. Every time I could remember him being happy, or at least content. If only I could make him remember!

It worked. As I showed him the memories faster and faster, his hands clenched even tighter, but his resolve seemed to waver, just slightly. I finally reached out and touched his shoulder, bringing him back to the present.

"How could I want anything else? Edward, our family isn't complete without you. I can't condone what you did, but I've already forgiven you, and I know she will as well. Our love for you isn't conditional on your behavior! You will always be our son, no matter where you are. But won't you stay?"

I couldn't hold back any longer. I grabbed him and pulled him close, my hands trembling with love and fear as I held my son, my best friend, my Edward. I love you, son… how can I make you understand that? I felt him relax under my grip, and his hands slowly moved up to return my embrace. Another moment, and I felt him nod against me. I smiled as my heart finally exploded in pure joy. He was staying!

"I'm sorry," he whispered into my shoulder. "After everything you taught me…"

"Ssh, Edward, sshhh…" I held him even more tightly, rubbing his head like I would a child. Suddenly, he pulled away from me.

"Esme doesn't know," he said flatly.

"No. I suspected from the beginning what you had chosen to do, but she would never believe it. I'll let you tell her, when you're ready." She'll forgive you.

He nodded, looking back to the house again. He sighed, but squared his shoulders and began to walk in; he wanted to get it over with. And I had a feeling this was something that he needed to do on his own. I headed into the woods, sending him my mental assurance of his privacy. I ran until I was well out of his range, and then I fell to my knees.

"Thank you, God," I cried over and over. "My family is whole again. My son, my son is home!"