Welcome back, you little freaks.

Jokes - you're all amazing. Especially those who review. You make our day so much brighter.

Here's the Carlisle chapter that so many of you have PM'd me about. It was in the works before we even posted this story so its not a coincidence.

Someone asked about why Jasper would fool around with Bella when he's with Alice.

Answer: Jazzy and Ali are fuck buddies. Nothing more. At most, they screw each other on a regular basis, unlike most of his girls.

Enjoy!


Edward

You know, as fathers go mine was OK. He was supportive, (kind of) around and overall, he was OK. He didn't drink and beat on us which is always a plus. I guess.

As a kid he was there for the big things like birthdays and Christmas. In fact, he was kind of like good china in poor houses; you know, taken out on special occasions. It wasn't like he was a permanent fixture or anything.

As husbands went, turns out he was pretty shitty.

As a boyfriend he was apparently just as bad and switched partners more than country dancers at a hoe down.

Makes me wonder what I'll be like. I already know I can't do the boyfriend thing. And I'm pretty sure I'd suck as a husband. Fuck, I can't even stick to one girl for a week. I'd probably fail at them all, but man... think of the fun

Well, for all of his faults he was still my creator, and my brothers and I owed him somewhat regular visits.

The divorce wasn't exactly amicable. No; the screaming, shouting, crying and throwing clothes and belongings around that my mother had done had made it a messy affair. Of course, Dr. Carlisle had tried to smooth things over with gifts; there was the Tiffany bracelet, the new car, the clothes and finally he had tried to tempt her away on a romantic, private island getaway.

I couldn't remember the last time my parents had had dinner alone together. Nevermind being away for a few weeks with no one else to distract them from why they didn't spend time together and why they hated each other.

Guess that was why they had kids; perfect distraction.

It hadn't taken the genius of Jasper to figure out why mother cried and shredded the wedding album and why father left one day and didn't come back. We all knew he had multiple girlfriends spread from Port Angeles to Nantucket – Doctors, it seems, have a nurse in every hospital. Who knew that been a doctor was like serving in the navy?

I guess dear Mother put up with it until he slipped up big time and got one of his groupies knocked up.

Fucking hypocrite.

He's handed out condoms to Em, Jazz and I like candy, but forgot to glove it himself before he dipped into a pool of self-fulfillment.

Certainly made me more cautious about wearing a rubber every time, no matter what. Just because I was my father's son, it didn't mean I had to repeat all of his mistakes, now did it?

Though he did clean up his own mess, much to his own credit and self congratulations when it all came out; what a good boy. However, it was dear mother that found the receipt of the little procedure that had made the problem go away. Fucking ass even tried to deny it, I think he'd have blamed one of us if he'd have had the nerve. Mother would have killed him for soiling anyone of her son's names like that if he had.

So now we visit the good doctor whenever he demands it or we need more condoms. Come on; the perk of having a dad for a doctor is definitely free rubbers. Colors for every occasion; what fun.

Well by the fourth week of married bliss with Mr. and Mrs. Forks Police Chief and Sister Cock Tease, I needed a good dose of the bitter Doctor and a stock up on the essentials. Turns out the gruesome two-some, as I occasionally called my brothers, were up to visit the exiled parental unit too. A quick call to him had secured us an open afternoon appointment.

Since the break up that the lawyers had called the lotto win of the century due to the wages they earned, Father had been living in a penthouse apartment in Port Angeles. Sounded way swankier then it was, that was for sure. Really, it was a top floor apartment in a key accessed building. Stylish?

Anyway, it was a son's duty to visit the dad who fucked up and learn how not too, right?

Emmett was the designated driver for our outing. He was oldest, had the meaner looking car, full gas tank and Jazz and I couldn't be fucked to drive anyway. Fighting about the music was another thing.

My brothers and I share tastes in nothing except the cookies we had when I was like 7, those cookies still rock my taste buds when I think of them. Everything else was up to personal interpretation depending on which brother you spoke to at which time.

Jazz was a total vintage rock freak. To him, anything created after he was born was total shit and needed burning. I liked the classics and the stuff he blared was not classics. And the fact that it came off a record; fuck man, a record...where the hell did they make that shit these days?

Emmett was more a rap guy. Any rap and anything that could be rapped. He would even try it himself and he sucked to the worst possible extent. Sure, he could pull off the whole gangster thing if he did it silently. My big brother was not the most vocally equipped of people.

As for me musically, I was easy. Fuck, who am I kidding? I was easy in all respects. Picky and choosey, but easy pretty much summed me up for most respects.

So car rides shared were never a very music friendly affair.

Climbing up into Emmett's jeep, I was shoved into the back seat. Last born apparently equals backseat for forever. Jasper had a lifetime shot gun call that could never be broken. Fuck that shit, one day I'd get it.

The first part of the drive was accompanied by the radio and typical brother banter. Apparently my recent activities had been rather loud and Em entertained us with impressions of Jess, Katie and...well we all forgot the name of the girl from Wednesday.

What can I say? She obviously wasn't that memorable.

Jasper was quiet, too quiet for Jasper considering all the songs in the last twenty minutes had been popular at least since my birth. Normally, he'd be spitting feather about the lack of musical styles and individuality; or some other crap.

"Jazz, you switching music taste on us?" I asked, punching him less then lightly in the shoulder.

"More importantly are you switching teams on us, bro? Ain't seen you with any girls this week." Emmett cut in with his usual tact.

It was true though, normally Jazz's door revolved as much as mine and I hadn't even seen him with his Alice recently. He'd been avoiding me too, well I thought so anyway. If I was honest I was hardly the easiest person to get a hold of recently, trying to avoid the cock tease and the sweeter then sugar newlyweds was kind of full-time job.

I wasn't being paranoid, even now he answered Em's question and ignored mine apart from the slight shrug. Jeez, he could be so weird sometimes and right now I could almost swear he was hiding something from me. If only I could read his mind, figure out what he'd done. I knew he must have done something that he knew would piss me off - piss me right fucking off. Anything else he'd be flaunting in my face and enjoying every minute of my anger.

As brothers; some things weren't that different about our personalities and some totally were. We enjoyed pissing each other off as much as we enjoyed inflicting physical pain on each other.

Another fifteen minutes passed that felt longer because Emmett tried to rap along with the songs on the radio. Eventually we pulled up outside of our father's building. It was honestly a place I never thought I'd be visiting my father; in fact it was the last place I ever imagined him living. Even jail was first on the list before a apartment building; after he dabbled with selling prescription drugs on the side, it had been a definite possibility.

The three of us piled out of the jeep and met up on the side walk, each glancing up at the concrete, 70's monstrosity. No matter how many times we came, I think it gave us all the chills. Was it true you eventually became your father?

If it was, we were totally fucked.

Jeez, there was a future to look forward to.

I was going to spend the rest of my teenage years at home wanting to bang my sister all over the house, and my upper 40s living in a downtown concrete block... fuck, someone pass the vodka now.

We approached the glass doors and Emmett hit the button next to Dr. C Cullen's name. A buzz later and minimal pleasantries over the static-filled voice box and we were granted entrance through a simple click of the doors. Just like jail was all I could think.

The neutral communal reception area led to elevators that smelled of lemon polish, which in turn brought us up to a floor identical to the other ones above and below it.

Visiting Carlisle was always interesting and I don't mean that in a necessarily good way. He'd gone down hill in the way middle aged rich men did; the vintage Aston Martin in his parking space, the different twenty-something blonde every night and the new gifts for his sons every visit.

I certainly didn't mind the gift part.

Entering the father's lair, the three of us glanced at each other before Emmett called out. Some things were the eldest's duty.

Carlisle entered the room and clasped us all in a very staged and theatrical group hug. We all knew instantly he wasn't alone. Enter this week's wanton vixen in a pant suit straight out the pages of Vogue. Her boobs were a sight out of the plastic surgeon's office; what can I say, I was a doctor's kid.

Step-mother material she wasn't. Fuckable assets she WAS! I knew Em and Jazz were eyeing her up in the exact same way as she crossed to Father and kissed his cheek.

Bella who?

Actually, I take that back.

Put Bella in that suit.

We'd have problems; big, huge problems no matter who or what was around.

The fuck toy left and we were left staring at Carlisle, not that we expected any explanations. He'd been treating us as men since we were thirteen. Teenage passing was a man ritual in our house.

"Boys." He said, crossing to the fridge and passing out cold ones.

Like I said, we were men. Everything needed a beer to be discussed.

"So, boys? How's your vacation been so far?" He asked, leaning back against the black marble counter top; a movement that both Jazz and Em copied while I preferred to lean against the wooded floor-to-ceiling pantry cupboard. "Do anything good?"

Seriously, since the divorce had been finalized this was how our visits were. No mention of Mother, the house, step daddy, the wedding; nothing out of school and personal health. Back home, Mother would avoid asking about him and merely inquire about the drive and the weather.

We were so far from the Brady Bunch that a GPS would still have us off the map.

Fucked up didn't even cover it.

And so the afternoon rolled on. A case of beer was demolished and the world according to school, college and future plans were all set. Emmett stopped after two beers.

We were fucked up, not stupid. None of us ever drove drunk. Come on, we had limits. And with Mother's new bed fellow - the Chief of Police - even we wouldn't risk that.

Besides, Em needed to keep out of trouble with the law if he wanted to nail Rosalie on permanent basis.

He had thing to keep in prospective. Dumb witted brothers, eh?

The afternoon wore on and Carlisle supplied us all with candy of the multi-colored non-edible variety before our leaving. Mother bid us to brush our teeth, Father made sure we were gloved and regularly tested.

Who said our parental needs weren't covered?

Broken home, was it?

So we were each gifted with a bag of goodies. Carlisle never asked how long they lasted or what we had left. Guess he went with the old saying; like father, like sons. Anyway, these were sure to keep us all occupied.

Each of us left with a brand new touch screen ipod. Gifts rocked, shame the different music tastes wouldn't rock each other.

There was no hug for parting, just a smile and a see you later wave. We were men after all.

The ride home offered a little more entertainment and more mind ache to be covered with mindless sex. Emmett is a fucking ass and always asks the question you don't want to address.

Fuck if I had been born first and could have known then what I now know; then I'd have drowned the asshole at birth.

"So, whose gonna find a use for the candy with Sister Virgin first?" He asked to the now silent car. The radio was long since shut off save bugging us all.

Of course Brother Emmett had taken himself out of the running when he'd all but declared his engagement to Lady of the Night Hale at dinner a few weeks ago. He was totally pussy whipped. It was sad to see that of a former master.

"Well, she ain't my type. No chance." Was all Jasper offered in to the silence.

He may as well have held up a big red flag right there. I knew it. I knew him. He wanted her in some way. I didn't know how much he wanted her or what he would do to get her or what had happened, but I was jealous.

I was jealous of my brother.

"Jasper, something going on?" I sat closer to him, leaning towards his ear

"Cool it, lover boy, she ain't interested in this Cullen." Was all he offered.

Case closed! That was Jazz for you, man of mystery.

And I knew that was all I'd get.

Jazz is like a clam; the harder you push, the less he moves. Whatever had happened or he wanted to happen I knew wasn't an issue now. There was no defeat in his voice. He was a Cullen and that doesn't exist in our vocal range, but he wasn't going there that was for sure.

I let it drop. I let it be. He was my brother and no bitch would ever change that.

Getting home to a semi-darkened house was a relief. I think the whole car sighed. No dinner. No Spanish inquisition and on a personal note; no raging hard on from seeing Bella.

Then why the fuck did I climb the stairs to my room wishing I'd at least caught a glimpse of her? Even a fully clothed one would have satisfied me until morning.

Why the fuck did I want to see her?

What the hell was she to me other then a tease and a problem?

My head hit the pillow with those thoughts that night.

And as a result I woke up four hours later in a wet sticky mess.

Fuck her.

I hadn't had a wet dream since junior high.

There was no way I was letting her get to me; if I couldn't fuck her then I'd fuck everyone but her.

.:Monday:.

Some people can't wait to get back to school after a lengthy break. I was not one of those freaks. School was a wasteful break between sleep, sex and drinking. OK, yeah, I needed the grade for college and I needed the classes for networking any new girls. This year, fuck that, there was only one. My darling little sister.

Someone had a fucking sense of humor.

Forks was small. So the school was hardly private and prestigious, but surely we could pull more then one new girl that semester?

Where was my fucking break?

I'd been a good boy. I hadn't jumped her in the dark of night. I hadn't pulled a Newton and jacked off to her calling out his name at the height of solo passion. I'd performed a public service and satisfied the female population of the town.

What was my break?

Maybe a guy like me is permanently damned to Hell. So long as it came with a supply of fuckable women I really couldn't seem to care.

By Biology of the first day of term I had successfully managed to avoid her. And I was thanking whatever god I needed to for that mercy.

Talk about counting your blessings too early.

Biology.

Come on, like the irony of her been my 'sister' wasn't enough.

Mr. Banner had to go and piss all over my will power and resolve by assigning her to the seat next to me. Seriously, the bastard was only pissed off because I actually knew more than him. Ass...hole.

I caught her scent as she slipped into the seat next to me. She smelled like strawberries. Her hair and even her clothes. Did we even own that kind of detergent?

Could I add 'biology lab desk' to the list?

Was I counting?

Fuck it. Fuck it all. I wanted her. Here, home, the car, anywhere I could get her. And now I hated Biology, not that it was ever a real favourite before; but now I hated it.

"Edward will share his book, I'm sure." Banner said as she sat next to me.

I nudged the book to her and lent in. What can I say? I like punishment.

A whole fucking year of this crap; seriously? Could I cope with her been right next to me and not being able to touch? This was going to be hell on my sheets, on my head; on my cock and on the girls I fucked.

Christ, and it was only the first day of the semester.


That's been our longest chapter thus far. Claps for travelchica!

Patience, my pretties. We'll get to the real action soon enough.

Review... and we'll add the Biology lab table to the list.