A/N: OK, so I admit it. Twilight is my guilty pleasure. I was about nineteen/twenty when I read the first one, and five years later my love for Carlisle (naturally) remains strong. Edward is my favourite "kid." Also, I never write my usual disciplinary style with actual kids. Not condemning anyone who does in the slightest, but I just personally don't. However, as the "kids," in this fic are well over the legal age of one hundred, I can make an exception. First Twilight fic ever so please bear with me, I've recently re-read the series and the Twilight juices are currently a-flowing.

-Inks

The glittering surface of his immaculate, just for show kitchen seemed to reflect his own sense of anger and exasperation right back at him as he sat heavily at the ornamental breakfast counter. It was a rare event that he had cause to extricate himself from his family to ensure his emotions were under check, but yet, alone currently he sat. Frankly, none of his eclectic brood drove him to this point with any degree of frequency, which on one hand was great. But on the other, it made those rare occasions all the harder to digest and deal with. Usually in situations where his emotions came under strain, the calming influence of Jasper would waft through the door and encase him in its soothing touch.

His southerner however knew better than to manipulate his emotions when it came to something like this. When his anger was born out the antics of one or all of his brood, his emotions were off limits. Suddenly wishing with all his might that Esme and Rose were back from their hunting trip, Carlisle ran a hand through his hair in sheer frustration.

He had warned the boy. Repeatedly.

Edwards…situation, with Bella…granted, it was complicated. Snorting unnecessarily at the understated summation, Carlisle had cause to recall the human condition of weariness. His son's head over heels proclamation of love for the human girl was not a typical teenage fad. Nothing about his lot could ever be accused of being a typical teenage fad. They'd been physical teenagers in a plethora of decades, and had pretty much outgrown adolescence from the get-go. And yet…yet Edward's behaviour shrieked and reeked of petty teenage angst. Running a delicate hand along the counter top, he shook his head slowly.

Edward…was his cool, level headed one. The one he could rely on to think things through, assess all possibilities and their corresponding eventualities. The one he could depend upon to refrain his more impulsive boy, Emmett, from doing anything too crazy. He was the one who could often aid in the diffusing of the often momentous arguments between his two girls, with his reasonable and rational logic. But…today, apparently was the day where Edward had cast aside that characteristic cautiousness.

Today apparently was the day when his son had decided to manhandle another student at Forks High, effectively blackening his right eye and about to set to work on the other, before Bella's screams got the better of him. Staring down at the counter, Carlisle closed his eyes and thanked his lucky stars the girl had been there and had shrieked her knee jerk reaction. Otherwise the boy, Brandon… something or other, would most likely be laying in the ICU. Another guttural sigh escaped him as he ran through the call from the school, his son's less than forthcoming explanation and the irate and dire warnings from the injured boy's parents.

It was…one hell of a mess.

Edward's explanation hadn't really operated to stem the coven leader's ire, and this fact once relayed to the boy, had only increased his ire. Staring silently ahead, Carlisle still couldn't quite believe that in all the decades of high school education his four had matriculated through, this one, in Forks was the one that his boy had decided to risk exposing them in. He accepted, such was his honed ability to empathise, that the…less than Christian thoughts that had rattled around Brandon's head as he had passed Bella and Edward in the halls, was enough to provoke his telepathic son.

He did.

He really did accept that.

He knew, if the sort of thoughts that had been rattling around that teenage boys head, had been relayed in another human's head in respect of his own mate, his teeth would also be grinding. But he also knew his hands would remain inoffensively at his side. He also knew that Edward was both mentally and physically capable of achieving the very same level of restraint, should he have chosen to.

But he didn't so choose.

And Carlisle…wasn't about to accept that.

He was not accept that which he had made perfectly clear over the last century or so as being unacceptable, and that was the deliberate infliction of physical violence upon a human. He and Esme had laid that ground rule down from the word go. All their kids knew that to lay a singular finger on a human in anger, malice or with violent intent, was an intolerable act. Edward, given his growingly close relationship with Bella, ought to remember that rule even more acutely than his other four.

The familiar worry regarding Edward and Bella's deepening relationship lapped him as he sat and attempted to regulate his emotions. On the one hand, he and Esme were beyond ecstatic at the way their boy's eyes lit up when her name was mentioned, or the way his gift for music soared throughout the house in her presence. Their happiness for his happiness was unwavering. They had grown more and more concerned as the decades slipped by and as Edward remained resolutely mate-less. Now…they grew more and more worried that the only mate their son seemed to have eyes for, was in their presence, as fragile as an origami swan.

Carlisle sighed once more as he examined his hands absentmindedly. What he was about to do, was always hard. But…when it was with Edward, it was even harder. Because frankly, he didn't have as much experience disciplining his technically first born son when contrasted with the plethora of experience he held in disciplining Emmett. He was also acutely conscious of not doing anything that would give off the vibe that he was displeased or discouraging of the relationship between Edward and Bella.

It was already tenuous enough.

Of course, his son could within an instant utterly infiltrate his mind and discern his full range of emotions on the matter, but of respect, he never did. Drawing in a completely unnecessary breath, Carlisle took a moment to pod and probe his emotions. He was still angry, but…not dangerously so. He was in full control of it, and not it, him. He was also…scared. Scared for what could have happened today, and the impact it would have had on two families. Scared for the life-long impact he knew seriously wounding a human would inflict on his most sensitively attuned son.

He was just…scared.

Their kind…they required, thrived upon and operated best with predictability and dependability. A relationship with a human, a teenage human, fulfilled none of that criterion. Seeing how far and how fast Edward would go to defend his girlfriend's honour, in a High School writhing with adolescent thoughts, was now more terrifying than ever. Such thoughts weren't a triggering agent that he as father could simply remove. Nor, given his abilities, were they something Edward as a student could simply turn a deaf ear to.

There was no muting the temptation of provocation.

And so…if Edward was serious about Bella, which wasn't really in doubt, he was going to have to learn to control his reactions. He was going to have to learn to let things wash over his head. He was going to have to learn, that which he already knew, but in the heat of the moment appeared to have forgotten. That he was a Cullen. That he was one of the five public faces of a family that drew lots of local attention. That he was as directly responsible for protecting their secret as his parents and his siblings. That his behaviour, orchestrated in a split second could have had untellable ramifications for both their family and others.

Standing with a sigh, and deciding that putting off the inevitable was simply unfair to his son, who was no doubt still stewing in his bedroom. Making his way to his study, or as his children called it, the execution chamber…he closed his eyes wearily as he pulled out the single purpose straight backed chair that resided in the corner of the opulent room. Setting the chair in the centre of the study, he rubbed a hand needlessly over his face and tried to pull himself together in order to complete the singularly most unpleasant takes he faced in parenthood.

Wishing that Esme was with him, to reassure him that he was doing the right thing, he left the chair in the centre of the room and settled himself sadly behind his desk. Running a hand through his hair, he appraised himself one last time, just to be sure, and found himself in complete check of his emotions. Clearing his throat slightly and leaning back in his chair, his gentle "Edward, come down here please," didn't need to be any louder than a gentle murmur.

He waited for what he expected to be a little more than the usual nanosecond for an arrival outside the study door. His incredibly honed ears did catch the sounds of a delicate arrival, but the frown on his handsome face indicated that it was not the arrival he was looking for. Before the knock came, his quiet "come in, Alice," was heeded, and his daughter edged slowly into the room. Her lip was being chewed nervously, which was a tell-tale sign that she was in the office against her self professed better judgement and her will.

Carlisle raised a pointed brow.

"Alice, I called for Edward. What can I do for you?"

Glancing nervously at the chair in the centre of the room, and whilst feeling incredibly bad for her brother, Alice felt incredibly grateful it wasn't intended for her. The fact that its intended recipient had flown the nest as it were, was the cause of her lip chewing and hand wringing based presence in her father's study.

"Alice?" Carlisle prompted once more, but with a certain edge tingeing his otherwise gentle tone.

"It's Edward," she whispered, "he's gone."

Silence slammed its way through every inch of the tastefully decorated room.

"Gone?" Carlisle repeated as calmly as possible, whilst feeling the recently extinguished anger flare up inside him. "Gone where exactly?" His eyes roved over his uncomfortable daughter, as she shuffled needlessly from foot to foot.

Silence met his direct line of questioning, causing his brows to knit together.

"Alice Cullen," he reproved quietly, being uncharacteristically brusque in his quest for answers, "that chair is not meant for you right now, but it can be."

If she could have paled, the pixie like vampire would have.

"Bella's," she squeaked miserably, "he's at Bella's."

Carlisle nodded, and stood. Crossing the room in a blink of an eye, he dropped a kiss on his daughter's head and smiled down at her despite the situation. "If I had to go looking all over town for him, he'd be in more trouble," he assured her gently, "I think you know that, and that's why you came to me?"

A dark head of short hair bobbed miserably in agreement.

Dropping one last kiss on her head, Carlisle was out of the house and in the driveway in a fraction of a second. Hopping into his car, he started the engine grimly. He could have ran of course, but that would have leaned more on the animalistic side of his being. He needed to be as human as possible right now, because human fathers didn't murder their son's in broad daylight, in front of their girlfriend.

So… he needed to be human.

Edward's entire being, more specifically his backside, depended on it.

"Eternal teenagers," Carlisle muttered under his breath as he tore through the driveway, "what in the hell was I thinking?"

….

TBC

….

A/N(2): Like I say, first Twilight fic, and I'm always nervous when writing for a new fandom for the first time. So please let me know what you think/if I should continue multi-chaptered style etc etc.

Thanks for reading!