Just an FYI that I'm currently working on the next chapter of Sins. I'm a little behind; I'm sorry! I was threatened by my betas to get chapters done in my other two (vamp) stories and had to obey. In the spirit of weekly posting, I'm submitting the below outtakes, since some readers haven't received them.

There is a new one at the bottom…short but sweet…but very important to the plot of the story.

I've been asked about outtakes and why I put stuff within them that is important to the story when some may not get them. In actuality, I've included everything from the outtakes in the story so far…just not in as much detail. I'll continue to do so for those readers that don't want to read POVs other than Edward, Carlie, and Bella.

I still hope to have a chapter up this evening, but my kiddos are harassing me to go swimming in our lake…

Please know these outtakes are unbetaed, so I ask forgiveness for any grammar errors.


Alice Outtake – From Chapter 47 Need

Something tightened around my throat, and almost instinctually, I reached up to encounter the strong muscled hand that was crushing my windpipe.

"Bitch! Did you really think I would let you kill me? I'm too smart for that…"

I began struggling, kicking, and just as the cover flew off my legs, I woke up. Deep breaths… Oh God, another nightmare. They could seem so real at times.

"No, Bitch! This is for real!" The hoarse voice cursed at me, grabbing me from behind again. "I want you to watch just how real this is."

A gun appeared to my side, and I saw the muzzle flare and screamed knowing what I would find when I turned. Blood spattered away from Jasper's head and across the pillowcase, he'd never even had the chance.

"Shut up or those whelps of yours will die knowing it, instead of in their sleep. And then, you and I are going somewhere private, so that I can enjoy you before I put a bullet in your head."

The shock of seeing my husband murdered held me still for the barest of moments before I began fighting. The monster fell on top of me, and I felt satisfaction that I tore into his flesh with my fingernails. Determined to either beat him or die trying, I began fighting with every instinct that my soul mate…my dead soul mate…had taught me."

"Alice!" he screamed at me as I dug in attempting to rip his flesh from his bones. I was certain that I was bloodthirsty enough, and that if allowed, I would have drunk his blood in celebration.

"Alice!" he called again, I could tell that he wanted me to stop struggling, but I wouldn't. He'd killed Jasper and he would be going after Jas and Alistair.

"For the love of God, Alice! Wake up!" I heard Jasper's voice calling. It couldn't be. I looked over and saw the blood staining the pillow beside me. "Baby, please. Wake up."

And just like that I came out from under the dream that'd contained a nightmare within a nightmare. Jasper hovered over me, his blue eyes desperate. Sucking in lungs full of air, I felt my heart hammering against my chest and the sweat trickling down my spine.

"Bad one," I said softly, barely able to speak at all.

"I'd say." It was then I saw the blood drop from his neck onto me, and I froze fully expecting to find I was still in the horror, and that Jasper's face would morph into the demon again.

He saw my panic at the sight and smell of the blood, and I bet he knew my fear that he would turn into a monster at it.

"You got me good, Baby. I'm going to need a couple of Jasmine's princess Band-Aids." He was attempting to lighten the mood by being funny. When he leaned up, I saw the scratches littering his chest. Several had tiny pinpricks of blood welling here and there.

"OH GOD!" I started to panic, but he shushed me.

"Alice, it was instinctual. I should have known better than to grab your arms, but I was just afraid you were going to hurt yourself."

A sob shifted out of my chest. "It was horrible. I was dreaming that I was dreaming. He was there…he killed you." My hands went to my throat, where it was as if I could still feel his hands clenching.

"You're safe. I was afraid you'd have bad dreams with Edward coming home. It is just a reminder of how much we almost lost. Do you think if I get you some tea that you'll be able to go back to sleep?" he asked gently.

I shook my head vigorously and then dove at him, pressing my lips to his. By the time I was through worshiping him, I'd kissed each wound I'd inflicted, and in turn, he'd wrung me limp from the heights he'd taken me. But I couldn't sleep, so I softly moved out of bed when he fell under the spell. I didn't feel settled until I had the paint brush in my hand, the large canvas I was working on before me. I was still fussing over Bella's eyes, unable to get them just right yet. There was so much more to the color than just brown. As I worked to highlight the goodness in my old friend, the darkness that I sometimes felt surrounded me faded.

And my brush stroked over the area, my mind wandered over crucial events from the last years. I'd been the one to really convince Edward of Bella's guilt, not Tanya. She'd been brilliant about feeding us all the right information to make us doubt, but it'd been me that'd finally broken him. The insecurities from the attack and nightmares had just been too strong, and I'd doubted that Bella could love me the way she'd professed. It was so much simpler to believe that I'd meant nothing to her and that she'd been playing me.

Now a woman grown, I could see how stupid I'd been, but as a girl, my ability to make rational decisions had been seriously flavored by what I'd been through.

"Edward, she played us. We meant nothing to her."

The look of defeat that stole upon his face at my words still haunted me. It was as if I could see the light in him die, the slow shuttering of his eyes that heralded in the "dead look" he'd assumed for so long. He'd been fighting it, fighting the filth Tanya attempted to convince us of, but my words had been the death knoll. Something shattered inside Edward at that moment, and the pieces had never come back together…until now.

When they'd walked through the door of the house, Bella supporting Edward, his arm around her shoulders, I'd wanted to cry. He looked years younger, even if he was still gaunt from the surgery and injury. His smiles as we teased him over lunch reached his eyes, and he'd actually given back as good as he got. I didn't know Bella well enough anymore to know if the peace on her face was normal or not, but I hoped at least part had to do with my brother. I had much to atone for…things I'd tried to tell her that day at the hospital, but hopefully she would afford me the time.

The painting I was drawing was my first attempt at apology to her, but it was also my therapy and preparation. If she turned away from me in disgust and loathing, which would be her right, I would at least have this picture etched in my brain to remember.

Adding a dab of gold to her eyes, I realized that it'd been what I'd been missing all along, the thing that had been bothering me. It just made her look…right. I stepped back to take in the full effect.

YES!

It'd made her come alive on the canvas, the mischief she tried hard to hide wrapping around her like a blanket. I'd drawn her first, allowing her to materialize before me before considering what scene to place her in. Rose had pointed out the obvious. Bella would be amidst a plethora of red-inked papers, a library of books in the background.

I hoped she would see what I was trying to say…that I was proud of what she'd been able to accomplish and that she'd stayed true to herself…and that I was sorry.

For it wasn't the hands of the man that destroyed my innocence that'd surrounded my throat in my nightmare but my own. Although I wouldn't argue that he'd become synonymous with what'd happened in my brain, I was aware enough to define them clearly…the boy and my own actions. It had been my own short-sightedness, my inability to see through a murky cloud to the future that'd caused my family the difficulties of losing Bella and foregoing the pleasure of Carlie's younger life. It was a mistake I had to rectify, including telling Bella that I'd been the one to turn Edward against her.

I just hoped that her heart was still as big as I remembered…

Carlisle POV Outtake from Prisons and Jailbirds – Mother's Day outtake

"Esme?"

She leant against the railing, looking out over the water. As still as a statue, the only thing that moved was the strands of her hair, teased by the winds coming up from the ocean. Tanya's memorial service had been hard for us both.

"Eleazar, I'm finding it difficult to know what to say."

"Your presence here says more than words ever could. Edward called as well. It's good to hear that he is recovering…good boy you've raised. I spoiled her, Carlisle. Who knows what resides in the heart of others. We can only provide what we feel is right at the time."

It'd been difficult to not think about how we could've been the ones hosting an eloquent farewell.

"Darling…" I murmured against her neck, wrapping my arms around her. She shivered, from the cool air or the feel of my lips against her, I wasn't certain.

"Am I a good mother?"

"What?"

She turned to face me then, and I wanted to shout at the agony on her face. "Carlisle, am I a good mother? I failed Edward, Alice…who knows what hidden scars Emmett hides…"

It was hard not to curse…it'd been years since she'd asked me this question. Years since her sense of self-doubt had raised its head.

Skimming my hand down her arm, I linked my fingers with hers and pulled her back into the house, wiping the tears from her face.

"Sit here," I directed, patting my hand on the thickly cushioned sofa.

"Don't leave," she begged as soon as I started to step away.

"I'll be right back."

Moving to the small refrigerator, I pulled out a fine white wine, pouring us both glasses before placing them on the table beside her. Then, I went to our walk-in closet to get the heavy trunk she kept there. Either she'd added more since the last time I moved it, or I was just getting old. A combination of both, I determined. She was always adding things to her treasure chest and the years were definitely creeping up on me.

She held the glass gently, barely sipping the wine when I came through the door. A ghost of a smile played across her face when she saw what I was carrying.

"Carlisle, you're going to throw your back out carrying that old thing," she said.

"This 'old thing' carries the story of the Cullens. A couple of sore muscles are worth it." Sitting it down in front of her, I breathed a little easier. Already I saw a little less grief. Nothing could withstand the magic contained within the seemingly innocent chest.

Sitting down beside it, I lifted the top and pulled piece after piece out, until the floor around us was literally covered in bright colors, globs of finger fashioned clay, glued ribbons, and every imaginable creature or animal that could be fashioned of hand prints.

"2 maMa. Edwd." The letters were fashioned over a makeshift heart. The paper lace had been meticulously repaired over the years. I moved it into her hands.

The next was a brown hand made into a turkey. Alice had topped each fingertip with paper cut in the shape of a pilgrim's hat. "Sweet" "Pretty" "Kind" "Neat" "Good cook" lined the fingers. On the palm of the hand, or the belly of the turkey…whichever way you took it…were the words: What I'm grateful for. In big bold letters beside them was "Mama."

Before she could even brush away the tears, I handed her one of Emmett's creations. It was a supposed to be a bear, and with a little imagination you could see the representation. "Mama Bear" had been etched into the clay with what was most likely a toothpick. On the bottom was Emmett's name…misspelled. It was but mere blobs stuck together, but to the woman that held it gently in her hands, it was more precious than anything Michelangelo could've created.

Multitudes of cards covered a great deal of space around me. It wasn't necessary to even glance at them to determine a specific one. The messages were all the same and just as powerful. By happenstance, I'd chosen one of Edward's.

"Mama,

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, I love you so much,

Do I have to go to school? Edward"

She burst out laughing when she saw it. "He really didn't like school then, did he? God forbid I'd tried home school. The women that do that…they have my utmost respect." She continued to chuckle as she looked at the pictures he'd put on it…various stages of him begging.

A bag harbored all the teeth the tooth fairy had secreted away. Why she'd kept them I'd never know, but they were here.

Memento after memento I laid before her, highlighting the story of our family, the tale of the life she'd created for us. There were creations from every season, every holiday…Valentine's Day, Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Birthdays, Mother's day. I didn't discount my contributions, but she was the mother, the heart of our family, the being that pumped the blood through us keeping us alive when it would have been easy to fail.

I filled her glass again when it was empty and watched as she moved her fingers across the many creations, grinning at the stick figures, the snaggle-toothed pictures, the indistinguishable masterpieces. Finally, she smiled, and the band that had tightened around my chest upon seeing her on the patio loosened.

"I felt so helpless facing Carmen," she admitted, skimming her finger over a paper elf with Alice's picture as the face. That particular creation came out for the Christmas tree every year. "What could I say to make it better?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"He played today."

"Pardon?"

"Edward…he played the piano for Bella, and then Carlie joined in and it was pure magic."

"Oh!" The rush of joy burned a trail through me.

"It was difficult to witness Carmen's despair, while all the while being so full of happiness for what I was given today.

"The contrast of life and death, of joy and despair, is never easy." I'd seen it a multitude of times. Survivor guilt. I'd experienced it in buckets over the past years. When I'd found out about Tanya, I'd drowned in it again. There really was no logical explanation as to why one had been saved and one had been lost.

"Are you uncertain? About Samantha?"

"NO!" Her face twisted slightly. "Yes. Being a mother is as much a part of me as the color of my hair, but I want her to have the best, and it is easy to question if I'm the one for her."

"So being a mother means you have to be perfect?" I saw the answer she wanted to say, and then she tempered it.

"I want to be perfect, to never fail them."

"But we will; it's inevitable. What happened with Alice and Edward was out of our control."

"But Bella wasn't."

"No, in that you are correct." Our greatest failure as parents.

"I don't want to hurt another person like that ever."

"Then we won't allow ourselves to fail like that again. Every parent makes mistakes, Esme. It's how you pick yourself up and dust yourself off that is the true measure of worth."

"Carlisle, are you ready to be a father again?"

I couldn't help the smile that flooded my face.

She shook her head at me and giggled. "You'll have to be more secretive about your…um passion."

"I well remember how we had to plan and contrive."

"I'm not sure that I can manage the meeting in the closets anymore."

"We have larger ones now, My Dear. Have you not noticed that many of them have built in benches?"

She snickered.

"We're too old."

"Age is only a number, baby."

She fluttered her hand at me, and it was then I saw the smirk. "You devious little thing…" She'd been hitting all the things that would've originally worried me…making me address my own issues.

"You helped convince me," she said, laying her hands on the next card to pick up and read. "I was just repaying the kindness."

Gently moving the items out of the way, I clinked my glass to hers. "Touche'" Tipping back the glass and drinking down the wine, I moved to my knees, placing my lips at the curve of her throat.

"To parenthood," I murmured before moving my hands to the buttons of her blouse.

Samantha POV Outtake – Prisons and Jailbirds (Yes, I allowed myself to name the social worker after me…that is my right for being one for over twenty years…snicker).

"Samantha, there's someone here to see you," Nurse Angie told me.

She was packing my bag. I was going away. Dr. Edward wasn't here. My tummy hurt bad.

Ms. April, my social worker, walked in and my eyes hurt. She grabbed tissue to wipe at my face.

"You don't deserve a present! Presents are for good girls!" Smack... I'd been bad.

Dr. Edward had lied.

"Samantha, why are you crying?" Ms. April asked softly. "The doctor has okayed you to go home."

"I don't got no home!" Then I really cried, didn't hear the people coming in either.

Then, I saw her. Dr. Edward's mama. His daddy too…God. Dr. Edward was an angel, so if Dr. Cullen was his daddy…he was God. He looked as beautiful as God.

So that made his mama…Mary? Wasn't that God's wife?

"Samantha…" Mary touched my hand. When did she sit in the floor? "We have a home. We'd like for you to share it with us." She looked to God and smiled. She was really really pretty.

Ms. April sat in a chair beside me. "Dr. and Mrs. Cullen want to be your foster parents."

"Doctor Cullen…"

"Carlisle," he said in a nice voice. "This is my wife, Esme."

I guess God and Mary had other names on Earth.

~SOMP~

"Does Cinderella live here?" It was a castle like the one in the movies the nurses brought me to watch.

I hadn't talked on the way, being quiet…like He'd told me.

"No, not Cinderella, but all my girls are princesses," Carlisle told me.

Esme smiled over at me and squeezed my hand. She'd wanted to sit by me. She was silly, but when she'd buckled me in to what she said was a "car seat," I'd gotten scared.

"For your safety." Why? I'd ridden in His car without anything.

"We have other children. Alice is married to Jasper and they have two children, Alistair and Jasmine. Emmett and Rosalie also have two children, Emaline and Ross. They're your age."

They wouldn't like me.

It was hard to walk with the crutches, and I was afraid I'd break something. It was so pretty in the house. But then I saw Dr. Edward and Bella. "HEY!"

~SOMP~

It was a castle; I didn't belong here. I was ashamed and clutched the bear that Emmie had given me. Maybe I could keep it when they decided that they didn't want me. "So, I'm going to get to live here?

"Yes, Mom and Dad are foster parents, and you've been placed with them by the social worker." Dr. Edward was so nice.

"Forever?"

"We're working on it," God said and my heart beat hard, my tummy doing happy summersaults.

"Where do you live?" Doctor Edward had told me that he wouldn't forget me.

"Here for now."

"So we'll be together!" Carlie was beautiful. I wanted her to be my sister…Emmy, Ross, Jasmine, and Alistair too.

She smiled at me. "When Daddy gets his house built."

~SOMP~

The popcorn smelled so good. I reached for juice, but I hadn't asked, and jerked my hand back before I got hit.

"Ungrateful bitch…You'll eat when I tell you to."

I waited for the blow, but Carlie put a bowl of popcorn beside me and told me to eat it. When she handed me juice, I started crying.

"Do you think that crying is going to make me like you? Not even your mother loved you…left you with me. One day you'll pay me back." His eyes would always go weird when he said that.

I tried to stop the tears, afraid they'd make them yell like he had.

Hide, my insides said.

Then Dr. Cullen came toward us.

"Poppa, I was thinking that Sam 2 and I could sleep together tonight. Aunt Alice and Meme will need to take her shopping to decorate her new room."

Poppa…Meme. I liked those names.

My room? I'd have my own room with a bed?

~SOMP~

"Samantha?"

I made myself small. The closet was big, so I'd crawled all the way to the back. Hide… I was sorry. I hadn't meant to make her drop the plate.

"Samantha, Sweetheart, will you please come out of the closet? Esme isn't mad. I've broken a dozen of them, and she still loves me."

Don't love me.

"You'll learn that she has a big heart. She's more upset that you were so frightened. You surprised her, calling her Meme."

"Sorry!" It was a squeak. I stuffed my hand in my mouth. Be quiet!

"She liked it. I'd like for you to call me Poppa…if you feel comfortable with it. Carlie told us that she told you she calls us that."

Yes…Carlie had said it as we giggled last night.

Trick? Why would they want me?

"Carlie suggested that we camp out in the living room tonight. Emmie is bringing her tea set, and Esme is making cookies. I'd love for you to join me, but if you feel more comfortable sleeping in here tonight, I'd understand."

My room or at least they'd said.

"Esme's cookies are, in my opinion, the best in the world. Especially the chocolate chip cookie ones. Would you like to come join me?"

My tummy grumbled. I'd eaten three times a day at the hospital. I didn't know you were supposed to. But Meme's food was much better, and the big guy, Emmett, he'd kept daring me to eat. The other one…the one that was so pretty, he'd told Emmett to stop and then sat beside me. I liked his voice and the way he talked. He made me feel safe. Everyone here made me feel good.

"Poppa?" Had he left?

"Yes." His voice sounded strange…like he was crying. Men didn't cry, they yelled. But he was Dr. Edward's daddy, so maybe he was different.

"I sorry."

"You don't have to be. I understand about being scared; I'm afraid that you won't be happy here."

NO! I crawled to the door and cracked it open. He sat on the floor, leaning against the bed where Carlie and I'd slept.

"I like it here."

He glanced up at me and smiled. "Good, because we like you being here."

He looked up in the opposite direction, and I scooted back. Meme came in and sat beside him.

In her hands were a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. My tummy grumbled again.

"Edward hid in a closet once," she said and then looked to Poppa and laughed.

Poppa grinned and brushed Meme's hair back from her shoulder. "I'd forgotten about that. Cut Alice's hair when he was seven."

Meme looked toward me. Could she see me through the crack? "She told him he could have her hair for a mask he was making. I screamed when I saw her."

She loved Dr. Edward…and she'd screamed at him? But she didn't hit him…she hadn't hit me.

"I had to sit outside his closet for hours to get him to come out, so I could tell him I was sorry."

"I sorry."

"Precious girl, you don't have any reason to be. I'm sorry I dropped that plate and scared you. My hands get slippery sometimes when good things happen. I have tons of dishes, but only one of you. Besides, I need your help tomorrow setting up the party. We're inviting some friends over to meet you. And Carlisle needs your help with the tea party and sleep over tonight. We haven't had a little girl in the house for awhile, and we're going to need your help."

"Silly…you have Emmy and Jasmine." Pretty, unlike me with my red hair and green eyes.

Poppa chuckled at what I said. "She's smart, Esme. Reminds me of you."

"But they don't like my chocolate chip cookies. I guess you'll just have to eat these, Carlisle." She put the plate between them.

My tummy won, and I opened the door to crawl out. Poppa picked up the plate and put it in front of where I sat. Meme handed me the glass.

"Now…just what would you like to do at this tea party tonight?" Poppa asked.

~SOMP~

The house was so quiet and big that I was scared. Monsters were in the corners, their red eyes staring at me like they wanted to eat me. Everyone was asleep. Something scratched at the window, and a sob came out of me.

"Samantha, are you okay?" Poppa said from behind me.

"Scared. Bad man outside."

"Would you feel more comfortable sleeping closer to me? I can put my arm around you."

Like the Hungry Caterpillar from the book Carlie had read me, I scooted to him. It only felt strange for a minute when I felt his arm go around me. The only time He'd touched me was to hit me.

"Go to sleep Little One. You're safe here."

Safe…

In my dreams, I belonged with them, happy and smiling.

Victoria POV (No, I hadn't forgotten her and the job that Aro sent her on.)

Placing the paper on the table next to the remains of my breakfast, I glanced outside to the breaking dawn.

Tanya Denali Martling was dead.

I wasn't surprised. What had she thought would happen when she went against Aro? Did she really think she wouldn't face his wrath? He was an exacting man…distributing his own form of justice…but not without just cause, at least in his mind.

Perhaps the real answer was she'd just been stupid. She must have been, all she'd had to do was leave them alone, go on about her life. And it was a good life. I'd gotten an eyeful of her husband as I tracked him. Handsome man…good stock…one anyone would be happy to have sharing their lives and bed. She was greedy, had been for her entire life it would seem.

But some would say it came naturally.

I wasn't a proponent of the phrase "blood always tells," believing that nurture could defeat nature when done properly. From all accounts, Mrs. Martling had been given everything necessary to make a child, much less an adopted one, happy. Perhaps the father had spoiled her too much, but I'd seen worse. She'd chosen her pathway in life, much like her brother.

My trip to Forks and the Quileute reservation had revealed nothing more than the protection of a proud people and the youthful infatuation of one of them with Isabella Swan.

The lack of explanations had haunted me.

Some would say that I was relentless or maniacal in my determination to see things to an end. I preferred to think of myself as thorough, wanting to put an end to things that disturbed me before I walked away. Tanya disturbed me…had since her name had come up in talking to several of the long time residents of Forks and then Seattle.

Talk about irony and how the circle of life was smaller than most people would like to imagine.

It'd been with trepidation that I'd handed Aro Velathri my report. For the incident at the music recital had already been blown out of proportion by the news media. To say the least, it'd been a media feeding frenzy.

Adoption records were sealed, but only when a person didn't know what they were doing. I knew what I was doing. It wasn't a proud statement, just an accurate assessment of my sense of self.

Tanya Denali Martling…an unwanted child of a society affair…the husband of the neurotic mother had been intolerant of raising someone else's bastard. As intractable as her biological mother, Tanya had been incapable of letting "it go" as I was certain Aro had previously warned; she had been incapable of it.

Talk about poetic justice coming to life…Alice Cullen, the woman…the child…Tanya had duped, had killed her brother.