A/N: It's still Sunday...in Honolulu. So what if I live in Cali? *hangs head in shame*. I've been procrastinating - this was a hard one for me to write and I had to go to a different POV to do it. So, fair warning to those of you with sensitivity to physical or verbal abuse. It doesn't get too detailed, but I wanted to warn you just in case. With that - I'll let you get to it. I think it helps to explains some of Edward's thought processes to date.

Also, see A/N at end for important info regarding the posting schedule.

Chapter 25 – Skewed

04/27/2010, 09:45 – SethPOV

I was in the middle of listening to my newest patient go on and on about how her mother liked her sister more than her. Apparently, her mother had purchased a pair of designer shoes for her sister that cost more than the handbag she'd received the day before. Tanya, a young woman with obvious narcissistic tendencies, had spent the first half of our first session flirting with me, despite the prominent placement of my wedding photo on the shelf behind me and the wedding ring I was wearing. Once I'd called her out on it, she'd switched to her current topic. It was obvious to me that she didn't want to change, and probably was only here because no one else wanted to listen to her whine. Losing my patience, I interrupted her latest rant and asked, "So Tanya, what exactly can I do for you?"

Breaking off mid-whine, a confused look crossed her overly made-up face. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she replied, "I'm sorry, what? I want you to listen, that's what I want you to do. Isn't that what my daddy is paying you for?"

I bit back the response I wanted to give and instead rephrased my question. "Tanya, the purpose of therapy is generally to assist the patient with gaining a deeper understanding of themselves or to help them overcome a past trauma, etc. So far, you've said nothing about what's brought you here. Was there something specific you wanted help with?"

Tanya popped the gum she'd been incessantly chewing since the start of our appointment and said, "Not really, I'm fine the way I am. I just need advice on how to get my parents to understand that as the older sister, they owe it to me to make me their priority."

As a psychologist, I saw patients from all walks of life, but I found myself disgusted with this woman's absorption with herself and all things material. I wanted to drag her down to the local homeless shelter so she could see what real problems were, but knew it would be pointless. Deciding to give her a small dose of reality, I said, "Tanya, I'm not here to provide advice on how to get your parents to buy you more stuff than your sister. I can help you if you want to move past your fixation on material goods and appearances. I can also help you learn how to adjust your skewed view of yourself and others. Does that sound like something you'd be interested in?"

"You think there's something wrong with me?" she responded, her voice rising in pitch, highly offended at the suggestion. "The problem is not me. The problem is my bitch of a sister who gets everything while I have to settle for second best. If you can't help me figure out how to get my parents to see that, then I guess you're no good to me." With that, she stormed out of my office and into the waiting room. I followed her out and watched as she flounced out the door in a huff, pushing Edward, my next patient, out of the way as she barreled out of the office. Although it was highly unprofessional of me to even think it, I couldn't say that I was sad that this was probably the last I'd ever see of Tanya. Edward raised his eyebrows at the woman's rude behavior and then, looking at me, said, "Someone's not a happy camper."

I just shook my head and refilled my coffee mug. The waiting room was empty except for Claire, my receptionist, and Edward. Edward checked in with Claire and once he was finished, I motioned for him to follow me back to my office. Where my previous patient was one I was happy to the back of, Edward had become one of my favorites. And while I knew I shouldn't have favorites, I found myself worried about Edward in between appointments. Maybe it was because he reminded me a lot of myself. We had a very similar upbringing and our military experience served as common bond. Edward had made huge strides in the past few months and I was eager to hear how he was doing now that his partner, Jasper, had been released from the hospital and had moved in.

We settled into the recliners in the corner of my office and I dove right in, "So, how are you adjusting to living with Jasper?" Part of me was worried that they were moving too fast, especially since Jasper had just been through a traumatic injury and Edward was still attempting to come to grips with the abuse and neglect he'd suffered growing up with his father. However, I could see how much Edward loved his partner and knew, from what Edward had shared, that the relationship seemed to be a healthy one. Jasper seemed to be very supportive and from what I could gather from Edward, was not one to allow Edward to retreat into his shell when things got tough. Although I hadn't yet met Jasper, I had a feeling that they were a good match.

Edward beamed and the love he felt for his partner was evident. "It's been amazing, actually. We've both had to adjust to having someone else in our personal space, but I think we've been handling it well so far. He destroyed my kitchen and I couldn't even bring myself to get mad at him," Edward replied, chuckling at the memory. "I think it's going to work," he continued, looking at me for reassurance.

"What makes you think it might not work?" I asked, knowing that Edward had a tendency to focus on the negative rather than positive.

"I'm just worried that we might not want the same things and how that will impact our relationship in the future," he responded, running his hand through his hair – a telltale sign that he was agitated.

"Have you had a discussion about what you both want in the future?" I inquired, knowing that I had pushed Edward to have this type of conversation with Jasper before they moved in together.

He looked up at me sheepishly and said, "We talked about some stuff – finances, household responsibilities, etc. But we haven't really talked about where we see ourselves in the future. I see now that you were right, that we really should have talked about that stuff first…" he trailed off, looking down at his feet. "We had our families over for dinner on Sunday and his mother and my sister-in-law started talking about gay adoption and surrogates."

I cringed internally at the insensitivity of family members worldwide who often found it cute to prod couples about marriage and children. I was surprised that they had started in on Edward and Jasper already, considering that their relationship was so new. "I hate to sound like a cliché, but how did that make you feel?"

"Terrified, to tell you the truth. I can't have children and I knew by Jasper's reaction when his sister told him she was pregnant, that he definitely wants a family some day. I should have told him before he moved in, but I didn't want him to break up with me because of that," Edward admitted. "I was being selfish – I didn't want to give him a reason to leave. And when they started talking about it, he told them to back off, but he said that we weren't ready now; which implied to me that he thought we'd be ready someday – only I won't." Edward looked at me with desperation in his eyes. "How can we stay together when he wants something I can't give him?"

"First, let's go back to the statement, 'I can't have children.' That's different from saying you don't want children. 'Can't' implies that you don't have a choice," I explained, trying to probe for the reasoning behind his word selection.

"Fine – don't want," Edward bit out; seemingly frustrated at my nitpicking his wording. "I'm selfish – you can't be selfish if you have children, they come first. I work crazy hours and that's not going to change given my profession. I'd make a horrible father…and as much as I want to give Jasper everything, I won't do that to a kid."

"Do what?" I asked. I knew I was pushing, but I wanted him to get to this himself. It would do him no good if I gave him my opinion on his reasoning.

"Treat them like they aren't important – make them feel like they aren't worth my time," he ground out, jumping out of the chair to pace back and forth in front of me.

"What else would you do?" I asked. "Come on," I thought to myself. "Go there."

"Demean them for being different. Force them to be something they aren't…" Edward's voice hitched, but grew louder as he continued, until he was yelling his answers. "Compare them constantly to others just to find them lacking. Make them feel like no one loves them… Act like they don't even exist! Smack them around when they don't do what you want them to do. Make them hide who they are until they began to wish they were dead…"

"Who did that to you, Edward?" I asked gently, needing him to acknowledge the abuse he suffered growing up.

"My father," he whispered so softly I barely caught it, tears streaming down his face.

"Say it. Out loud," I demanded. When he hesitated, I repeated it more aggressively, "Say it, Edward!"

"My father," he said in stronger voice, hands shaking as they tugged at his hair. "My father…" he repeated his voice breaking as he asked, "Why? What did I do to make him treat me like that?"

I helped him back to the recliner and stayed beside him. He leaned forward, his head in his hands. "It wasn't your fault, Edward," I noted, relieved that he trusted me enough to finally begin to purge years of built up fear, anger, and sadness. "Your father made a choice to abuse his son. You did nothing to deserve that. The fault lies with him, not you," I reiterated, squeezing his shoulder for emphasis, before retaking my seat.

"It had to be me," he argued. "If he was really a monster, he would have done it to Carlisle too. But he didn't – I was the one he called stupid. I was the one he made fun of. I was the one he hit when I did something he considered too feminine. Carlisle was the one he held up as an example of what he wanted me to be like. He never did anything to Carlisle. My father actually listened to him - Carlisle was the only who could get him to lay off of me – even my own mother didn't try to stop him."

I knew I was treading a fine line here, since Carlisle had been a patient of mine in the past. There were things I knew about the situation that I only knew because Carlisle had disclosed them during his own therapy sessions - which meant that I couldn't discuss them with Edward. But it didn't prevent me from trying to get there in a roundabout way. "Was your father always physically abusive to you?" I asked.

Edward stopped and thought about it, then replied, "Actually, it didn't get really bad until Carlisle left for college. He never hit me before that, only constantly compared me to my brother." He looked up at me and provided some examples. "You need to be more like your brother. You need to toughen up. Carlisle can take it like a man; you're just a sensitive little pussy. Stupid faggot," Edward mimicked his father's words, his fists clenched at his side.

"What do you think he meant by, 'Carlisle can take it like a man.'?" I inquired, hoping Edward would draw the right conclusion.

"I don't know…" he said quickly, but then stopped and thought about it. "Oh God… he did it to him too?" Edward asked rhetorically, not expecting an answer as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place for him. "Fuck!" Edward shouted. "That fucking bastard!"

"Have you two ever really sat down and had a conversation about that time in your lives?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"No. I never wanted him to know how bad it had gotten. There wasn't anything he could do and he was already gone. And when they died he was in medical school and living with Esme – I just wanted to forget it ever happened and move on with my life," he noted with a self-deprecating smirk. "I guess that didn't work too well."

"Would you be willing to talk to him about it now?" I asked, believing that it would be good for both of them to discuss their experiences with each other. For years they had both been silent, trying to protect each other from what they'd endured.

"I don't know. I don't want to drag up bad memories for him," Edward replied, still trying to protect his brother.

"If it makes you more comfortable, we could have him join you during our next session. That way you both have a safe place to have this conversation," I offered, hoping that he would accept. It would be beneficial for them to get it out into the open and would give Edward access to someone who understood what he'd been through.

"I can ask him, but if he doesn't want to, I'm not going to force the issue," Edward responded.

"That's fair," I said, pretty sure that Carlisle would be willing to do anything if he thought it would help his brother. I glanced at the clock and realized that we were already past the hour allotted for our session. Not that I cared that we ran over, but I also didn't want to push Edward too far, too soon. Having grown up in an abusive home myself, I knew firsthand how taxing this process was.

Edward sat up in the chair, took a deep breath, and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Where do I go from here?" he asked. I could tell that he was shaken by today's session and probably a bit overwhelmed.

"First, I want to reiterate that what your father did to you was not your fault. We all make choices in life. Your father made the choice to be abusive to his children. That does not mean that you will make the same choices, Edward. Some of the best parents I know are abuse survivors. I'm not minimizing your feelings on parenthood, but I want you to think long and hard about your reasoning. Don't think that just because your father hit and belittled you that you are cursed to continue the cycle," I stated, pausing for a while to let it sink in. "I also want to go back to meeting once a week. We have a lot to work through."

Edward looked apprehensive and I rushed to reassure him, "I'm not saying that because you are not doing well. You've made amazing progress. But this is a lot to deal with and I don't want you to have to wait two weeks between sessions to talk over the things that are bound to come up."

He nodded his agreement and then looked at his watch. "Fuck! I was supposed to meet Jasper 30 minutes ago," he exclaimed, realizing that we'd gone over.

"Was he picking you up?" I asked, hoping that he was because I wasn't sure Edward should be driving after the emotional upheaval of our session.

"He had a PT appointment down the street at RIC, so we drove in together. He dropped me off and I was going to walk down to meet him there," he responded, his anxiety at making his partner wait obvious.

"Well, let's get your next session set up with Claire and then you can go," I replied. We both rose from the chairs and headed to the door. Just before he opened the door, I stopped him. "Edward – I know that this was difficult for you. If you need to talk to someone before our next session, please feel free to call."

He turned back to look at me, his eyes red from crying. He smiled half-heartedly and replied, "I will."

As we entered the waiting area, I walked over to the reception desk to let Claire know about the extra appointments I wanted scheduled. Expecting Edward to be right behind me, I turned to tell him that Claire would get him set up but he wasn't there. Claire noticed my confusion and nodded towards the waiting area with a soft smile. I turned to look and found Edward embracing a tall blonde man. The man cupped Edward's face in his hands gently as he murmured to him softly. The love that flowed between the two of them was palpable and I realized that this must be Edward's Jasper. I remained at Claire's desk, trying to give the two of them some privacy.

A few moments later, Edward led the man over to me. The smile on his face confirmed what I already knew as Edward introduced me to his partner. I shook the man's hand and saw the kindness and compassion reflected in his eyes. "Jasper, it's wonderful to meet you. I've heard so many wonderful things about you," I said with a smile.

"It's nice to meet you too, Dr. Clearwater," he responded with a smile of his own. Releasing my hand, he quickly reached down to clasp Edward's hand in his own. Immediately, Edward's posture relaxed. If I didn't know better, I'd have guessed that these two had been together for years, not months. It wasn't often that I saw a bond this strong, but I was overjoyed to see it. Edward had a rough road ahead of him, but I felt better knowing that this man would be there every step of the way.

A/N 2: So, duty calls and I must travel to Oregon for work and my dissertation committee wants a Chapter 3. Unfortunately, that means that the next chapter of Southern Charm will not post until June 20th. If I find myself with some free time on my hands, I will make every attempt to post early, but I make no promises. As always, I appreciate your feedback and I'll see you in two Sundays time...