AN ~ Despite Bella's increasing health, the problems are only beginning for the rest of the Cullen family. In this chap we see the thirst that has snuck up on the Cullens throughout their hunting ban. It highlights the cracks in the Cullen family unit and how they continue to hang onto the hope of reaching some kind of relief.

Disclaimer: Breaking Dawn is not mine and IT COMES OUT RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF EXAMS! WHY?

Chapter Fifty Seven: Endurance

Esme:

I baulked when Carlisle entered the room with a cup of blood. Like the string-pull on a hot air balloon I was suddenly, cruelly reminded of just how thirsty I was. Instantly, my thoughts jumped to Jasper. He had scarcely come downstairs in the last few days, ever since the wolves' barricade stopped us from hunting.

Jasper was pacing the attic one end to the other when I arrived, his shoulders squared as if he carried a heavy load, wringing his hands and gnashing his teeth anxiously. Alice sat on a crate off to the side, watching him with sad eyes. I pulled up one beside her and she turned to me immediately.

"Esme, we have to hunt," she said in a soft voice, but one more solemn and demanding than I had heard pass her lips in a long time. "Jasper's getting worried. When Carlisle opened that packet..." Her tone dropped even further. "I don't want to see what will happen if Bella delivers and we're all like this. You're feeling the pinch too, aren't you?"

"Just now," I admitted, putting a hand to my throat.

Jasper slumped down on the ground, leaning against my crate so, with what looked like great pain, he could take Alice's hand in his.

"Sometimes," he murmured. "Sometimes I think I've got it all under control, and then something happens and I just...don't."

"Don't blame yourself, sweetheart," I crooned, running my fingers through his hair. "We all understand what you're going through."

"Carlisle doesn't," he grumbled back. "It hasn't occurred to him yet, how thirsty we are."

"Don't get mad at your father," I reprimanded. "He's trying. He's had a lot on his mind lately."

Jasper laughed dryly and shook his head.

"I wishI'd had a lot on my mind. All I can think is thirstand blood."

"I know, Jasper. I know what it feels like. You're okay; you'll get through this. You're a brave boy." I leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

"You have to say that; you're my mother," he rebuked. "But yes, I am being too hard on Carlisle. The man's getting torn apart down there. In fact, I think Carlisle needs to feed more than the rest of us."

"What do you mean? He's fine. He was with Bella just now; he'd never put her at that risk. Nor himself."

"His concentration is decreasing," Alice pointed out, a faint tremor in her voice betraying how concerned she was for her father's well-being. "He should have thought of this solution by now. He should be fifty steps ahead. He should have mediated Edward and Rosalie's issues, got Jake on side and put Bella on an IV. He should be able to do it, and you know it Esme. How long has it been since he last went hunting?"

"Well, it was..." I thought back. It was before the wolves put their patrol in place, of course. I think it was even before Bella had become couch-bound. In fact, come to think of it, I don't think Carlisle had hunted since Bella called, thinking she was pregnant, and we had a fight. Even then, it had only been a deer on the way home.

"He's less certain of himself, too," Jasper added. "Much less. And sometimes his thoughts swing towards aggression. He has a very passive personality usually – I'm concerned that he hasn't noticed the signs in himself."

I entwined my fingers in each other and stared at them, intent on the patterns I was making as I pondered what my insightful children were saying. For Carlisle to deny his own problems was not unheard of; perhaps he was so bent on helping Bella he had forgotten himself, or perhaps he was convinced that if he could just hang on that little bit longer, everything would turn out.

"What difference does it make now?" I decided in the end. "He still cannot leave. We must trust his judgement and have faith in ourselves and in him. An answer will arise. Until then – we've endured worse. None of us are newborns any more, and there has been fresh blood spilled in this house which none of us touched. The wolves are trying to do this; doubt ourselves, weaken our wills, start a fight. We must show them that we are as devoted to protecting Bella as they are. We do that by holding on, and keeping to our principles for as long and longer as our endurance is necessary. The end will come – until then, we must stand united."

"Spoken like a true Great War wife," Jasper credited. "Rallying support on the home front."

His words were punctuated by the dumda-dadumof Jacob's paws hitting the boards of the porch.Now that our guest was gone and I had control over my thirst, I returned downstairs to Carlisle's side. His eyes were black as pitch as he watched Edward's solemn expression, but our son looked much worse. Whether Carlisle was subconsciously damaging himself or not, we allneeded to get out and get fed as soon as possible.

"Hear hear," Edward murmured. Carlisle held one arm away from his body, his eyes still fixed on Edward even as I settled into the warm embrace – all the warmer for being nothing more than the natural curve of his arm as he instinctively drew me close to his body. As I stood there by his side, I pondered what Jasper had said: likeatrueGreatWarwife.

Many people these days believe women of 'my era' were somehow coerced into staying at home with the children and forced into obeying their husbands. Speaking from my own experience I can say that many education and career paths were strongly discouraged for women, even teaching positions, and that most of us were not educated enough to put up a fight. Especially those from Southern farming states like Ohio. That I will concede. However, something I believe history has corrupted is the loyalty of a wife to her husband. I confess, my relationship with Charles was probably the shortest-lived dream in the history of the world, except perhaps Rose's, yet I could not escape him except through the most drastic measures – but I never claimed that all husbands and wives loved each other. It is our loyaltywhich, I believe, won the war in the end. Our direct paths to protecting our country - our sons and brothers and husbands, sisters, daughters and mothers alike – were blocked to us, and so we protected what we had always protected: our homes. We got jobs to keep the factories running, and to keep food on the table. We saved and sewed clothes and made-do and most of all, we were always there for our men to lean on when they struggled.

Men are not, contrary to popular belief, more prone to aggression than women. My dangerous enthusiasm to hunt Victoria compared to Carlisle's potentially costly inaction will tell you that. Asking a man to be shipped away from his family to kill other young men with lives and families is no easy feat. They struggled. Just as Edward and Carlisle and Jasper and Jacob struggle now. Sometimes, there is nothing they need more than for someone to stand beside them: to suffer what they suffer and to remind them that they are not alone.

"Thank you, Esme," Edward murmured, capturing me with his onyx eyes for a moment before he diverted his attention again.

"What's going on?" Carlisle asked. Edward frowned and tilted his head.

"The wolves are calling a truce."

Hallelujiah.