Carlisle's POV

I was running out of the study in an instant, my body understanding the situation while my mind was still processing it. Edward stumbled along after me, trying to tell me what had happened. "He was fine, I swear. Nothing happened to him, but then he just fell and started shaking. Emmett stayed with him and I came to get you. Dad, is Jasper going to die?"

Was he? Terrifying possibilities raced through my mind, each worse than the last. Had Jasper overdosed on something, either accidentally or deliberately? I was keeping his medications in my room, but there was nothing stopping him from going in there. Could he have a blood clot that had been there since his surgery, just waiting for the right time to break free and cause a stroke? What about an aneurysm? Was he already too far gone for me to help?

Alice was already on the phone, giving the 911 operator our location and explaining what the emergency was. Esme called out to me. "Go on. I'll go upstairs and count his pills, make sure he didn't overdose. I'll check mine too — anything he might have taken."

Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time we had found ourselves in such a situation. Over the years, we had been forced to call 911 much more frequently than I would have liked. We had taken in many high-risk kids, and some of them had been dangerous to themselves. At this point, it was a reflex for me to grab the phone and call for help while Esme looked for any possible causes for the collapse.

Edward was already on the porch, bouncing nervously. "Come on, come on!" He ran like a deer, leading me to where his brothers were. I caught a glimpse of Emmett's white t-shirt through the trees, and pulled ahead of my son. "Emmett!"

When he looked up, there were tears in his dark eyes. "Dad, we need help." His voice was soft and strained, like he had to force the words out through a locked-up throat.

"What happened?" Jasper was down on the ground, his body jerking and trembling in a full blown grand mal seizure. Blood trickled down the side of his face. "Did he get hit with something? A ball, or the bat?" Jasper had seized once before, in response to his original head injury. Maybe he had been injured again.

"No. I was showing him how to pitch, and then he just sort of gasped, like I had socked him in the stomach. Then he was down and shaking. I sent Edward into the house, but I didn't know what to do. I didn't think you were supposed to shove anything in his mouth, but I didn't know what else to do." He was babbling now, as though feeling totally helpless for the first time in a long time.

The truth of the matter was, there was very little any of us could do for Jasper right now. Without being at the hospital and having access to an array of anticonvulsant drugs, I would have to wait for either the seizure to stop on its own or the ambulance crew to get here.

"How long has he been seizing?"

They exchanged looks. "Maybe five or six minutes? I came to get you right away." I noticed that neither one of them was wearing a watch, and they didn't sound very certain.

The three of us fell into a tense silence then, broken only by the strained sounds of Jasper's breaths. The sound frightened me, as did his increasing pallor. Like every other muscle, his diaphragm was spasming, causing his breathing to be disrupted.

Another minute passed, and the seizure seemed to be stopping. His lips remained pulled back from his teeth, creating a disturbing visage with foam spilling from his lips, but the rest of his body gradually grew still. At the same time, I heard the first cry of sirens. "Edward, go and lead them here."

He vanished, and I turned my attention back to Jasper. "Jasper? Hey, wake up, now." His jaw was still locked shut, but I was able to gently pry it open. Instantly, his color got a little better as he was able to draw a normal breath. I pulled each of his eyelids up, looking deeply into the pupils. They were equal size and slightly dilated, though not as much as I would have expected with an overdose. What was wrong with him?

Emmett crouched by my side, his bulk nearly blocking out the late daylight. With surprising gentleness, he reached out and used his sleeve to wipe the worst of the blood off Jasper's face. "I think he bit his tongue."

That wasn't uncommon in seizures. "Probably. Jasper, can you hear me?"

His eyelids flickered madly for a minute, like he was dreaming, but he didn't wake. I squeezed his hand lightly, not surprised when he failed to squeeze back. "It's all right, I'm here."

Anything else I might have said was interrupted by Edward arriving with the ambulance crew. "Back here. Uh, he's seventeen — his name is Jasper. I don't know, I don't know, you'll have to ask my dad."

One of the man knelt next to Jasper and checked his vital signs. How had I forgotten that? I couldn't do anything else for the kid, but I could have at least checked his pulse. "Temp feels low, pulse normal. Get the stretcher."

I admired these men for their cool detachment and professionalism. I did the same thing every day, but it was different when it was one of your family lying there unconscious. All I could do was talk softly to Jasper as they lifted his limp body onto the stretcher and slipped an oxygen mask over his face. One of them turned to me. "Are you the father?"

Much as I wanted to say yes, I couldn't. Jasper wouldn't have liked it, and it wasn't quite true, anyway. "He's my foster son. I'm his legal guardian."

They must have seen far stranger situations every day, because the one just nodded. "One person can ride the ambulance with him. If you want, I mean. You can just meet us at the hospital, but I need someone to sign for his treatment."

Of course I would ride with him. He might wake up and be afraid, surrounded by strangers. Just like last time. The thought came in harshly, reminding me that it hadn't been that long ago that Jasper had been brought to a different hospital in another ambulance, fighting for his life. With Maria being arrested and the rest of the kids picked up by social workers, I would bet that no one had even thought about Jasper, except to wonder if he would live or not. It wouldn't be like that this time. This time, he would have me with him the entire time, and at least some of his siblings at the hospital, for however long it took.

"Emmett, Edward, go get your mother. Tell her he's being taken to the hospital, and to meet us there. Remember, the last name is Whitlock, not Cullen. One of you kids needs to drive; she's going to be too upset. I'll see you guys in a little while." I made sure not to tell them that Jasper was going to be all right. Chances were that he would, but if my line of work had taught me nothing else, it was that there were no guarantees in life. Jasper was only a little over a month out of major surgery, with residual brain damage. He hadn't gone into this latest crisis particularly strong, and he was going to need all of his strength to fight now.

Brain damage . . . for the first time, it occurred to me that this could all be in response to his original injury. We had all seen his MRI, with the ugly scar crossing the side of his brain. Every one of us had marveled that he had escaped such a devastating injury with only a little muscle weakness and a few small memory issues. Maybe he hadn't been as lucky as we had thought.

I traced my memory back, trying to put things in a new light. I remembered his nurses laughing and talking about his extreme sleepwalking. Every night, they had said. Found him sleeping on the room floor, bathroom floor, next to the bed. But since he had been with us, he had had relatively few sleepwalking episodes. Had any of what they had seen been the aftermath of minor seizures instead?

One of the paramedics cut Jasper's t-shirt off, no doubt intending to hook him up to a heart monitor. Once he got the fabric away, though, he could do nothing but stare at the devastation that should have been smooth skin. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "You said you're his foster father?"

"Yes, I've had him a month." No, I'm not the one who hurt him. I probably should have said more, made it clear that I wasn't responsible for Jasper ending up in this state, but I was as transfixed by the scars as he was, and unable to formulate a clear thought. I had seen pictures of them, of course, but Jasper was understandably shy, and I hadn't seen what they looked like up close.

He looked like something out of a POW camp. He was back at a nearly normal weight, but somehow, his otherwise healthy body made his scars look even more ghastly. I had to resist the urge to push these men away and put a blanket over him, preserving his last bit of privacy. He was so sensitive, and I didn't want strangers gawking at him. However, doing so wouldn't do anyone, least of all Jasper, any good, so I stayed my hand.

"Poor guy." That was the only thing he could apparently think to say, as he gently slid an IV into the still arm. Jasper flinched visibly when the needle went in, a soft whimper escaping his lips. The other paramedic moved up near his head. "Jasper? Jasper, you're in an ambulance, okay? We're going to take good care of you."

This time, his eyes opened, roaming the back of the ambulance restlessly. He didn't struggle, not even a tiny bit. He had evidently learned a long time ago that, no matter how bad the circumstances, it was better to just endure. I stroked his palm, and was gratified when his fingers curled sluggishly around mine.

"Jasper, look at me." I used a sing-song voice that would have embarrassed the hell out of him if he had been fully conscious, but it did get his attention. His blue-grey eyes rolled over mine, somewhat unfocused and completely unguarded. Those eyes, both in color and the strange innocence in them, belonged on a newborn baby. Much as I tried to block the thought, an image of my Sammy floated into my mind, they way he had looked at me in the few hours he had been alive. I forced it back. "You had a seizure at home, and we're going to take you to the hospital, okay?"

If it wasn't okay, he gave no indication. Or maybe he was incapable of giving one. There was no way to be sure with Jasper, even when he was perfectly healthy. He closed his eyes again, though I got the impression that he wasn't unconscious. But I was willing to let him think he was playing possum. "Don't worry, I'll stay with you as long as I can."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. I should have promised to stay with him the entire time, whether or not it was true. He would go back to sleep in a few minutes, and stay that way for hours, so he wouldn't have known the lie. His body needed a chance to recharge itself. "I'm here." It sounded lame, even to my own ears, but Jasper seemed soothed. His fingers loosened in mine.

We were moving quickly, but it wasn't quickly enough. "Why aren't we running the sirens?" I knew that these men hated it when they were second-guessed, just like I did, but this was Jasper's life we were talking about!

Luckily, they must have been used to dealing with hysterical family members. The driver caught my eye in the rearview mirror. "We only run the sirens for life-and-death situations. Your son is out of crisis, so we don't run them. Really, it's a good thing."

He was out of crisis for the moment, but what if he seized again? What if he were bleeding into his brain, and it killed him while we were focused on the damn sirens? The hospital loomed up in front of us, nearly making me cry with relief. They would know what was wrong with Jasper, and how to fix him.

They separated us at the entrance of the ER, whisking Jasper away for an MRI, while I was left to deal with the paperwork. I hadn't missed the sideways glance the older paramedic had given me when he informed the receptionist that we had an injured foster child, and that Social Services needed to be notified immediately. I had barely repressed hysterical laughter when he added "We don't want a repeat of the Teresa case downstate."

I didn't bother telling him just how closely this case related to that one. Heck, that case was the direct cause of this one. But I just concentrated on filling out the paperwork. As I did so, it became clear to me just how little I knew about Jasper. I remembered his birthday, May the fifth, but how tall was he? How much did he weigh? I wasn't sure.

"Dad!" Alice's voice broke through my self-recriminating musings. "Daddy, what happened? Is Jasper going to be all right?" She rushed across the Emergency Room and threw herself into my arms.

"The doctors are looking at him right now. I don't know anything else." I wished that I could say something else, something reassuring, but I was coming up blank.

"But did he wake up? Dad, when can he come home?" she pressed, acting like half of her own body had been torn away.

I reminded myself to be patient. Of all of us, Alice was the closest to Jasper, and she had to be devastated at the moment. "Alice, honey, I don't know. They'll tell us as soon as they know something."

They huddled around me, reading over my shoulder and generally being intrusive. I loved my family, and was glad to have them here, but I wished they would move about five feet away and let me concentrate.

"He weighs 154 pounds." Rosalie pointed at one of the questions I had left blank.

Now, how had she known that? At my raised eyebrow, she shrugged. "I had him hold a couple different parts on the scale for me. We just subtracted his weight to get the right total."

Made sense. I filled in the blank, thinking that he didn't weigh much, not for as tall as he was. "Anything else you want to add?"

She looked over the empty spaces. "I'd say he's about five-ten, five-eleven. He's taller than Edward, but not quite as tall as Emmett. No allergies."

I was incredulous. "You certainly know a lot about him."

"I talk to him a lot. Sometimes he even talks back." She spent a long moment looking at the questionnaire in silence before looking back at me. I was surprised to see a glossy sheen to her dark eyes. She leaned forward and whispered, "Is this my fault?"

I must have looked confused, because she pressed on. "He's been fine since he got here, then I give him a panic attack and suddenly he's having convulsions. Did I make that happen?"

I wasn't used to Rosalie caring much about anyone besides herself or Emmett, so it came as a surprise to hear she was so concerned about Jasper. "No, it's not your fault. No one knows what causes seizures, and in a case like his, it's even more confusing. This probably goes back to his accident."

"Don't call it that." Her eyes, so sad a minute ago, were blazing. "It wasn't a fucking accident, and you know it. She tried to kill him."

It was the first time I had heard anyone say that out loud. Conventional wisdom was that abusers very seldom meant to kill the person they were abusing. Hurt them, yes, but actually kill them? Not often. "Rose, I'm not excusing what she did, but she wasn't trying to kill him."

She snorted, tossing her mane of blond hair. "You don't hit someone in the side of the head with a poker and not intend to kill them. She might not have known it then, but she wanted him dead."

There was a truth in her words that made it impossible to deny. I wondered what had driven Jasper and Maria to that breaking point. Had she ever really wanted him? She must have; he was one of her first placements. What had gone wrong, then? Had the problem started with him, some behavior she just couldn't break? Or had she just been totally unprepared for the reality of dealing with a traumatized child?

Thinking back over the years, I could easily name several children that I had been tempted to strike. Training for foster parents wasn't very in-depth, and there is a huge difference between hearing about a behavior and having to live with it day in and day out. Had she just given in to that compulsion? Jasper was so sensitive, so highly strung, that the shock of it all had probably worked. Then it became a self-reinforcing behavior. After all, it had worked so well with Jasper that she figured it would probably work with all of her kids. It was only when things spiraled so badly out of control that one of them ended up hospitalized that the powers that be chose to pay any attention to what was going on.

"Mr. Whitlock?" An intern had appeared in the doorway.

I jumped to me feet. "It's Cullen, and yes, that's me." The rest of the family was up and eager to follow me. "This is all immediate family."

He raised an eyebrow, but allowed us all into what I thought of as a 'death room.' It was a little room where the doctor took you and explained everything that was wrong with your loved one. "Mr. Cullen, as in Dr. Cullen? Chief of Surgery?" I nodded, and he whistled. "Sorry, then, doctor. I didn't know."

With the size of the hospital, that wasn't surprising. "How's Jasper?" He was the only thing that mattered right now.

"Uh, I'm just supposed to bring you here and wait for the doctor. He's getting the test results now."

Coffee bubbled in a pot on a table, but I kept away from it. I knew how this hospital was, and that sludge had probably been in the pot all day long. Not that it stopped Emmett from getting a cup. The pleasure on his face as he drank made me wonder if his taste buds functioned properly.

"Carlisle! We need to stop meeting like this." Aro, one of the ER doctors, gave me an affectionate slap on the back. The last time we had seen each other, Emmett was getting stitches after somehow falling and putting his arm through one of the glass doors. The time before that, it had been Alice and her appendix. "Can you keep your kids out of my ER for a while?" He put the file on the table. "So, Jasper."

The papers were expertly flipped to reveal an MRI scan. "Jasper has no cranial bleeding, no swelling, nothing that the MRI could pick up. His preliminary tox screens all came back negative, though we'll have to wait on the more in-depth results. Reflex tests are excellent — he was oriented to place and year, and able to tell me who was president and how many fingers I was holding up. All in all, he seems perfectly healthy and normal."

"So why did he have a seizure?" Rose had no problem challenging the doctor. "He can't be healthy if he's shaking like that."

Luckily, Aro had a daughter of his own, and understood how to handle this. "That's the million-dollar question. I'd like to keep Jasper for a few days, so I can run some tests on him." He spoke to all of us, but his eyes were locked on mine. "We do have to consider that this could be a long-term effect from his head injury."

Even though I had been thinking the same thing, it still hurt to hear it said out loud. "I know." I didn't know why I found the thought so painful. Seizures were no fun, but they could likely be controlled with the right medications. It certainly seemed like a light diagnosis when you considered things like paralysis and death, both of which were strong possibilities when he was brought in immediately following what had happened. Rose was right — I couldn't in good conscience call it an accident. "Maybe it was a fluke."

Aro nodded, even though we both knew that it probably wasn't. Rashes could be flukes, or vomiting a small amount of blood. Seizures, especially a grand mal one like Jasper had just had, pointed to something more serious. "We can hope."

"So can we see him?" Alice was less interested in they whys of what had happened, and more interested in the Jasper side of things.

"One at a time. It's technically past visiting hours, and he's asleep, anyway." Perhaps Aro sensed that it was going to be difficult to keep those two apart.

Alice started to jump up, but I gestured her back down. "Honey, let me go in first, okay?" I wanted to get a good look at Jasper, and make sure he didn't look like he was a few steps away from death. Alice wasn't nearly as tough as she thought she was, and I didn't want her to end up traumatized.

She looked like she was going to protest, but a firm look had her sitting down against Esme and pouting dramatically. It was a good ploy, and one that had worked many times in the past, but I wasn't going to give in to her today.

I fololwed the doctor out of the room and into the elevator. He waited until we were totally alone before raising an eyebrow. "So, how are things with Jasper? Other than a thrilling trip to the ER on your day off, I mean."

"Things are good." I wasn't sure how much to tell him. Aro had been a good confidant in the past, but I hated to violate Jasper's privacy. It was one thing to discuss a three-year-old, another entirely to do it to someone who was almost a legal adult. "Kind of. He's skittish."

That earned me a terse nod. "I know. He was trying to act calm around me, but the heart monitor doesn't lie. Poor boy was scared to death, heart rate up over a hundred." He paused, as if he wasn't sure about adding the last part. Finally, he came out with it. "He asked for you."

"He did?" That was unexpected. Jasper seemed to like me, but it was a wan sort of affection, one that suggested he would have liked anyone who didn't beat the shit out of him just as well. The fact that he had wanted me by his side, either to protect him or to ease his suffering, came as a total shock.

"Yes. He might be skittish, but he is attaching, Carlisle. Give it some time."

Time was exactly what we didn't have. "That's what I keep hearing."

Anything else he might have wanted to say was cut off by our arrival in the ICU. Aro responded to my unasked question. "He isn't critical, but he does need to be constantly observed. If he starts seizing again, he needs someone there immediately."

There were no actual rooms in the ICU, just glass walls, through which the patient could be observed from a central nurses' station. There were curtains that could be pulled for a minimum of privacy, but no real doors. "Do you want to be alone with him?"

I was torn between saying yes, and being afraid to. It was an odd feeling, being frightened of a child more than a decade my junior, but Jasper had a quiet dignity about him that made us more like equals than a father and child. But he had asked for me specifically, which I took to mean just me, and I wanted to honor that request. "Yes, please."

He nodded, as if he were reading my mind. "I'll be seeing you then."

He left, but I barely noticed. I was far too focused on Jasper, who looked very small in that room. No, small wasn't the right word. Diminished; that was it. He was always so tightly contained, so in control, and now he had none of that. With an IV inserted into one arm, he looked like any other child at this hospital. It was this image, more than any other, that drove home to me just how young he really was. Not to mention how ill prepared to cope with life on his own.

I pulled the curtain and walked over to his bed. Aro had been right; he was deeply asleep. His chest rose and fell softly, while the heart monitor beeped a steady rhythm. The circumstances were terrible, but at least he was getting the rest he so desperately needed.

"Hey, Jasper." I spoke more to soothe my own nerves than because I thought he could understand me. "How are you feeling?"

No response, not even the slightest flicker of his eyelashes. I stroked his forearm, which I suddenly noticed was tied to the bed. A glance at his other arm confirmed that it, too, was restrained. The ties were loose, but tight enough that he couldn't slip free. "I'll be right back."

I stood and walked over to the nurses' station, noting with relief that Nurse Price, a personal friend, was on duty. She gave me a tired smile. "Dr. Cullen, what can I do for you?"

It occurred to me that she had no idea who Jasper was. "Jasper Whitlock, Room Three?" At her nod of recognition, I continued. "He's my current foster son, so I'm here with him. Why is he in restraint?" It wasn't that I was angry about it — if Jasper were a danger to himself or the nurses, it was a necessary precaution — but I needed to know.

If she was surprised to hear I was fostering again, she gave no indication. "Oh, he kept pulling at his IV, so we tied him down. He needs to keep that in, so we can medicate if he seizes again."

That was reasonable. "I see. If I were to stay with him, and watch him closely, could I take him out? I'm just afraid he'll panic if he wakes up and can't move." I didn't say what I was actually thinking, which was that I thought he might panic anyway.

She sighed. "If you will watch him the entire time, no sneaking off for even a minute, it should be fine." She softened slightly. "I hope he's all right."

Not as much as I did. Beyond wanting Jasper healed for his own sake, and because I was really coming to like the kid, despite his strangeness, I had a girl downstairs who still thought I could perform miracles, and that I would be able to fix this. "He will be." No matter how long it took or what the cost, he would be.

Deep in a sedative-induced sleep, Jasper didn't react at all when I gently lifted each of his hands and slipped the soft restraints off. I talked to him, though, hoping he could hear me. They say that even people in deep comas are capable of hearing a familiar voice, and I was hoping he would recognize my tone, if not my words. "There you go, straps off. I'm going to let Alice come up for a few minutes, all right? She can't stay for very long, but Esme or I will be here until you wake up."

I pulled out my beeper and signaled Esme that it was all right to let Alice up. Jasper actually looked pretty good, mostly like he was sleeping. He had a bruise darkening on his cheekbone, probably from hitting the hard packed ground, but otherwise, he just looked like Jasper, only a lot more at peace.

Alice exploded into the room, slightly out of breath from having run up three flights of stairs. That was typical of her; she would be too excited to wait for the elevator, so she had to race up the stairs. She raced across the floor, barely stopping herself in time to keep from slamming into the bed. One small hand came up to smooth Jasper's hair out of his eyes. "Oh, cowboy, you look bad."

As though a switch had been thrown, she became calm and introspective, gently curling her fingers around his limp hand. "It's all right, though, because you'll get to come home in just a few days, and we'll take care of you there."

Even from my spot in the corner, I could feel the bond between them. Jasper looked perfectly normal to me, but to Alice, who didn't just look at him, but actually saw him, the strain showed. I didn't feel a sexual component to their bond, not yet . . . but there would be soon.

But at least Jasper would be all right. Alice seemed confident that he would be released after the few days of observation, and be allowed to come home. That was a good sign, right?

Alice continued talking, excitedly sharing everything that had happened to her since she had seen him last — an entire eleven hours, by my reckoning. I heard about school, and how her presentation for English was a success, and what color she and Esme were planning on painting his room. "I guess we'll do it for you while you're in here, and that way it will be all clean and new when you get home. How does that sound?"

Of course, he gave no reply, but she hadn't expected one and continued right on. "I guess it doesn't matter how it sounds, because it's happening whether you like it or not. I think you will; it kind of matches your eyes."

My attention wandered as she went into an excruciatingly long comparison of the color of the walls to the color of his eyes. I guessed I should be thankful that she was so caught up in them, as opposed to other, more dangerous, parts of his body, but still, there was only so much a man should be required to listen to.

The monitor above the bed caught my eye, and I found myself staring at his heart rate. At first, I wasn't sure I was seeing what I thought I was, and spent several minutes staring at the screen. Sure enough, every time Alice spoke to him, Jasper's heart sped up a tiny bit. Just a few beats per minute, but it was every single time. Even now, in dire straits, he was responsive to her.

Finally, her descriptions exhausted, she turned to me. "Can I stay with him tonight?"

Normally, I would have said no, since she had school tomorrow, and hadn't done any of her homework, but then, rules were made to be broken. Jasper seemed to want her here, and I was helpless to give him what he needed. "Fine, but just for tonight. You need to be at school in the morning."

Her eyes lit up with joy. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!" She turned back to Jasper, rubbing his shoulder. "Hear that? I get to stay here for the night!"

I expected at least fifteen minutes of excited bouncing, but she sat down immediately, lightly touching Jasper's arm and talking to him gently. Huh. Seemed that Jasper was grounding her a little. "Go explain it to your mother, and let her have a chance to come up and see Jasper, too, all right?"

"Oh, yeah, I didn't think of that." Bounce, bounce, bounce, and she was out the door, looking a bit like Tinker Bell on speed.

I looked over at Jasper, who hadn't moved at all. "Well, buddy, something tells me it's going to be a long night."