Disclaimer: I do not own Carlisle, Esme, Aro, or anyone else in this fic. Stephanie Meyer does. She would probably be very upset if she saw what I was doing with them.

A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews and alerts. You have no idea how much they make my day.
I'm so glad people are enjoying this story. I was really worried to post it, but your response has made me confident that it will be well-received all the way though.
Additional Note: The song behind his chapter is "My Skin" by Natalie Merchant.

She wished she still had a heartbeat. It would have been a comfort, a steady, unchanging sound to distract her thoughts. Instead, she could only try to block the sounds of Aro dressing, straightening his clothes, humming to himself, while she lay, broken and hurting, a naked sacrifice to a cruel god.

Aro approached, and stroked her back gently. She flinched, physically and audibly, a gasping sob she couldn't hold back. She just couldn't find the will to fight him anymore.

"I'll give you a moment to dress, my dear, and I'll send someone to take you to your husband." He stroked his hand down her back and bent to kiss her hair. She scrambled away, huddling at the corner of the table. He chuckled, and went to the door. She listened closely, hearing it open. But before it closed, his voice drifted back across the room.

"Do give my love to Carlisle."

Esme's heart, already in so many pieces, shattered into just a few more. She stood shakily, trying not to think of the implication of his words. Carlisle has of course known Aro for years, before she had ever been born. They'd been friends for centuries. He would never believe his old mentor was capable of…of this.

She slipped her clothes back on, hissing as the fabric brushed her raw back. She wrapped her coat around her, as though the light blue wool would keep Carlisle from learning the truth, because in that moment, she had decided: she would never, could never tell her husband. It was just…one more way she had to chosen to protect him.

The door slowly slid open and Demitri entered, a knowing smirk on his face. If she hadn't felt so downtrodden, so broken, she would have struck him. Instead, she sighed, and looked away, only looking up when he held the door for her, and led her through the catacombs. She barely had a thought the whole journey, other than seeing Carlisle. But when they finally reached the cells, she found she wasn't at all prepared for the state he was in.

His blonde hair was dirty, and disheveled, and they had taken his clothes. Long bloodless whip weals criss-crossed his pale skin. He was motionless in the middle of the cell, and she pressed against the bars desperately as Demitri unlocked the door. The moment it was open she was on her knees beside him, pulling him gently into her arms.

He was far too pale, his eyes closed, marks here and there on his face where he had been struck. As she held him to her, all of her own torments washed away in the wake of seeing him like this.

His eyes blinked slowly open, pitch black and full of a painful hope.

"Es-Esme?"

She nodded, her eyes closing in desperate relief as he brushed his fingers across her face.

"What are yo-you doing here?" he whispered, his voice rough and dry. She smiled, and she knew if she'd been human, her eyes would have filled with tears.

"I couldn't leave you here. When Edward and Alice returned, and told me what had happened, I got here as fast as I could."

"Aro…you must have seen Aro…" His eyes fluttered shut before he could see her wince.

"Yes… I...I did. He said I could bring you home, we are both free to leave." He sighed with relief, his eyes opening, swimming with love and admiration.

"My brave Esme…sweet brave Esme…" he swallowed. "I…I need your help to stand…"

"When did you last feed?" she asked, knowing the answer. He coughed, smiling wryly.

"Two days before we came. And…I've lost what blood I had since." She nodded, and pulled him up closer to her, brushing her hair back from her throat. His eyes widened, fixed on her neck.

"Esme, I couldn't…"

"I fed mere hours ago, Carlisle. I have enough to spare. Drink, gain strength." He leaned towards her, licking his lips, and, gently as he could, bit into her throat.

She gasped as he drank thirstily, blood welling up from the wound. She stroked his hair, holding him close until he pulled back, breathing hard. He looked up at her, eyes slightly amber.

"I could…I could taste you in the blood." He sat up slowly. "Oh, Esme…" he wrapped his arms around her, and she dove into them, burying herself in his arms. He held her close for a moment, and then whispered, "Can we leave here now?" She sat back, looking at his bare body.

"We'll have to find you some clothes…" she looked around, and saw where someone had laid dark pants and shirt in the cell doorway. She brought them to him, and swallowed hard as he dressed, seeing where he'd been beaten. He smiled at her. "It looks worse than it is." She nodded, and took the hand he offered.

"Come on, let's go home."

They called the children once they were well outside the city, and Rosalie arranged a flight for them. Esme let Carlisle do the talking, knowing she could only avoid Alice and Edward for so long. The flight home, she watched the movie they played, a silly comedy that took her mind off the events of Volterra. Carlisle held tight to her hands and stroked her hair, but left her to her thoughts, and for a moment, she thought she might be able to leave everything that had happened behind.

But when they landed, and met their family at the gate, through all the hugging, laughter, and reassurances, she saw Alice and Edward's eyes, staring at her with such disbelief, that she knew she couldn't escape the past. Her children knew exactly what had happened, and now, she would never be free.