So, this began as a strictly Esme and Carlisle fanfic but then I wondered what impact it would have on the rest of the characters in Twilight, so here is a fanfic for all the couples. Beware - may get a bit long!

Canon couples.

Al owned by Stephenie Meyer - I'm just manipulating them for my own amusement.

Hope you enjoy!

R&R plz - it makes me feel good! J


Chapter One: Pregnancy and Memories.

For the third time in her life, Esme Evenson was pregnant. And for the third time in her life, Esme Evenson asked herself if she could bring a child into her life.

The answer, of course, was yes. She could not bring herself to have an abortion. Even if she could face the possibility, her husband, Charles, watched every penny. He would know if $300 suddenly disappeared from their bank account. Then he would beat an answer out of her. If she confessed that she had killed their baby rather than condemn it to such an existence then there would be hell to pay, such violence that Esme's gentle soul could not even comprehend.

No, she would have this baby, just like she had the last two times, and she would love and care for it as well as she was able.

Don't worry baby, she thought, clasping her hands over her still flat stomach. I'll protect you. And one day, well, we may even get out of here. You and me and Edward and Nessie will all go somewhere where he can't find us.

Thinking of her other two children, Esme decided to check on them. It was ten o'clock on a Friday night and the house was quiet; Esme had put her babies to bed nearly three hours ago and it would be at least another three before Charles came home, roaring drunk and shouting.

With every child, he promised to change, to never drink or hit her again.

He never did.

The first time she got pregnant she had been just twenty. Married straight out of high school, she was naïve and young, thinking everyone man was as kind a gentleman as her father, Anthony Platt. Charles Evenson had shown her different. The first time he had hit her they had been married a year and her father had just died. Her mother had died after complications arose during Esme's birth so it had only ever been the two of them. Esme could not stop crying. At first Charles was understanding, but his natural selfishness and brutality had quickly risen to the surface. Unable to see through her tears, Esme had stumbled putting food on the table and hot gravy had spilled into Charles lap. Furious, he had stood up and looked down on his much smaller wife - Esme had never been so scared.

Then he had backhanded her, knocking her to the floor. When she did not get up, too shocked to move, Charles had grabbed her by her caramel-coloured hair and yanked her to her feet. He had roughly pushed her towards the kitchen, telling her to grab a cloth to clean up and to "stop being so bloody clumsy."

She had often wondered why she had stayed after that first blow, but then Esme was nothing if not forgiving. Charles was human. Humans made mistakes. Yes, he had overreacted but she had just spilt gravy in his lap! Things would not be so bad if she just was not so clumsy - Charles hated any kind of disorder or mess. She knew all of this rationalisation was merely a front so she would not have to confront the truth - she was afraid of her husband and what he would do to her if she tried to leave.

Despite all her efforts, however, Charles continued to beat her. Then she told him she was pregnant. Unable to stay with him, for fear of what he could do to her baby, she had moved to her second cousin's house in Milwaukee and become a teacher. She was well into her maternity leave, over seven months pregnant when Charles, angry as the devil, turned up on her doorstep to drag her home. The fear and stress of the resulting argument had caused Esme to go into premature labour. She was rushed to hospital and gave birth to a beautiful baby boy.

The first few days had been harrowing, with no one being able to tell her for sure if her baby would survive. Esme had been close to suicidal.

But then, thanks to a gifted Dr Cullen, her child had survived. She could still remember the conversation they had had when Dr Cullen had taken her son out of his incubator and Esme had been able to hold him for the first time.

'Here,' said Dr Cullen, passing her a gently moving bundle. 'He'll be okay - he's a strong one. There is no signs that there is any permanent damage. He's just a little underweight, but we'll fix that before we let the two of you go.'

'Thank you,' tears made Esme's beautiful blue eyes glisten. 'I cant' believe he is going to be okay. And it's all because of you. I wanted to name the baby after you, but my husband . . . Well, he -'

Carlisle saved her an explanation. 'Yes, I heard the conversation.' Most of the maternity ward had heard the conversation. And what that brute had called his wife . 'Carlisle is not a name for everyone. Rather old-fashioned.'

A blush stained Esme's cheeks at the humiliation of having had people hear Charles' rant about naming his son after another, unrelated, man. Even the man who had saved his precious son's life. But at his words, Esme gave a small laugh. Carlisle smiled softly at the sight of this woman and child and wondered for the thousandth time since meeting her how such a wonderfully kind, intelligent woman had ended up with a man like Charles Evenson. If Esme had been his wife, Carlisle would treat her like a queen. Like she deserved.

'Well,' Esme caught her lip between her teeth and frowned, thinking, 'you DID save my baby's life. My father taught me good deeds should not go unrewarded. Could you, I mean, would, that is if you would like to, I don't wish to presume that -'

'Esme,' Carlisle asked gently, smiling once more and putting his hand on her shoulder. 'What is it you wish me to do.'

His touch seemed to reassure her and she raised her head to look him in the eye. 'Would you name the baby?' She still said it in a rush as though she was terrified she would lose the nerve, but she had at least been brave enough to ask him.

'I . . . I would be honoured,' and truly, he was. Carlisle thought for a few seconds. He had a few baby names floating around his head - his wife was eight months pregnant and they had only decided recently to find out the sex of the baby. It had to be something nice, elegant - a consideration her husband would never have thought of. 'What about Edward? Esme and Edward Evenson - works nicely.'

Esme graced him with a smile and gazed adoringly down at the sleeping baby in her arms. An unruly tuft of bronze hair poked out from under the soft, fleecy blanket. She tried to pat it down but it struck straight up again. Well, she thought, there has to be something about him that is not completely perfect, or he would not be human.

'Edward Anthony Evenson. I love it. What do you think, huh?' she held the baby up. 'What do you think, Edward Anthony Evenson?' The baby opened his still-blue eyes, looked at his mother as if to say, whatever you want, ducky, just let me sleep. He closed his eyes again and let out a little yawn that melted Esme's heart all over again. 'I think Edward Anthony Evenson sounds great,' she looked up at the kind doctor to thank him but instead noticed for the first time how handsome he was. She was mildly surprised she had not noticed before. But then again, her son had been on the brink of death.

Edward Anthony Cullen sounds better, Carlisle thought. He was shocked by this. Firstly, Esme was a patient! Secondly, he was married, though at admittedly, life with Elizabeth was no as happy as he had hoped it would be. Elizabeth Masen-Cullen seemed impossible to please. Thirdly, and most importantly, he was a father already. Emmett was coming up to a year old and Elizabeth was pregnant at this moment! In less than a month Carlisle would be the proud father of a beautiful baby girl. Elizabeth wanted to call the baby Nadine but Carlisle was determined the baby would be called Alice.


Esme had returned home with Charles after he swore he would never lay so much as a finger on her again. This turned out to be slightly inaccurate since by the time Edward was two and a half, he had been joined by a sister, Vanessa 'Nessie' Carlie Evenson.

Esme reached her son's room first. The room did not seem to belong to an eight year old boy. Everything was in its proper place with no mess on the floor. Toy soldiers formed ranks, clothes were in a hamper tucked out of sight in the closet and the schoolbooks were all neatly piled on the desk. Esme knew Edward had a meticulous nature, but this unnatural neatness was mostly Edward's way of preventing his father getting angry. If there's no untidiness, Daddy won't shout.

Esme did not have the heart to tell her lovely, loving little boy it did not work that way.

The nightlight splashed light in the shapes of wolves, bats and moons across her son's pale skin. That tuft of hair still stuck up, defying both gravity and mother's attention. Lavender eyes hid a pair of eyes that had turned a striking green. So piercing it felt like her little angel could read her mind sometimes. She prayed he could not. She wanted him to be happy.

Esme listened to the peaceful sound of her son's even breathing as he slept soundly, before kissing his forehead, stroking that hair and, finally, tucking him in again.

She left the room, closing the door silently. Crossing the landing, Esme opened Nessie's door. Here, like in Edward's room, unnatural neatness prevailed. Looking at her sleeping daughter, Esme chuckled quietly. Unlike Edward, who was a very still sleeper, Nessie was a fidget. She slept soundly, she just did not sleep still. When Esme had put her to bed, Nessie had been in a ankle length, long-sleeved nightgown, tucked up under the covers, head on the pillows, Love the teddy bear safely under on arm. Now, Love was on the pillow, the wrong way up so his head was towards the foot of the bed. The duvet had been folded over so that is covered Nessie's body and head, leaving her limbs sticking out like a starfish, She had wiggled down the bed so that her bronze hair, the exact colour of her brother's, was spread over the pillow like a halo. This wiggling had caused Nessie's nightgown to bunch up around her knees so her pale legs stuck out, unencumbered. From under the duvet pulled over her head, Esme could hear her daughter's soft, steady breaths.

Esme crossed the room and began sorting her daughter out. Sheets and covers were straightened, limbs were placed back into bed before the child was pulled six inches upwards so her head was on the pillow again. Love was once more placed in the crook of her arm.

Esme went to her own bedroom and got ready for bed. Lying there alone, Esme desperately wished that time would stop and she would spent forever with only the three of them, here, home, safe and happy.

Four of us, she corrected herself as she felt a fluttering in her belly. She laid a hand over the non-existence bump and fell asleep.


Okay, so yeah. Edward and Nessie are brother and sister, their mother is Esme and their father is Esme's husband Charles. If you don't know who he is well - you call yourself a twilight fan! I sneer at you sat here at my computer at 20 past one in the morning!

Carlisle has Emmett and Alice with Elizabeth Masen - confusing I know, but oh, well, it's my fic and I could not be bothered to come up with a name - check out future chapters for more nods to characters!

BTW - Nessie's full name is Vanessa Carlie Evenson (at the point). Taken from Breaking Dawn when Bella says that Nessie would be an alright nickname for Vanessa. I could not call her Renesmee obliviously, coz she's not Bella's kid named after her two grandmothers, she's Esme kid, named by her bastard father.

You all probably figured that out - I just wanted to make it explicit to get the basics down before we move on - don't worry, Rosalie and Jasper Hale will be entering the fan fiction - at the correct point. All you Jasper lovers, hold your horses and give me time!

Love to all for reading - love back by reviewing!