Thanks to Fran for beta'ing at lightning speed. Thanks to Gabby1017 and mykcullen96 for pre-reading.

Chapter 19

"Peter, hold your arms up a little higher; don't be afraid of the ball." Edward called as the pitching machine fired another ball. He sighed as it clanged against the chain-link fence.

No amount of emergency medical training could have prepared Edward for the events that had transpired over the past week. He had immediately put in for a week of vacation, claiming he had to deal with a family emergency…Technically speaking, he wasn't lying.

He remembered the way his head pounded as his mind ran through a list of medications that could put him out of his misery. But, despite the pain, something great had come out of what had unfolded at the Swan household only days ago.

He watched the boy swinging the metal bat at the ball. The chain-link fence rattled again as he missed.

"This is stupid, Uncle E. I'm not going to get it," Peter complained. He pulled his hat off, fighting the urge to toss it on the ground and stomp on it. The past few weeks had, for lack of a better word, left him frustrated.

He argued with his uncle a lot, something he wasn't used to doing. He'd tried to do it—tell them what happened, why he ran; what made him smash a hole in the front window of his parent's house and head for the hills.

But he couldn't.

And he was angry.


Bella watched through the window as Edward and Peter sat in the car for an unknown amount of time. Bella lost track, but even through her blurry, tear-filled vision, she could see the lights from his car sitting at the end of her driveway. She wasn't sure what they talked about, and she's wasn't sure she wanted to know.

She tried to understand the situation from Edward's point of view, she really did. He came to her house expecting to talk with her and instead got completely blindsided by her secret. Her daughter's secret. And at that thought, more tears dripped down her face.

Her daughter was upstairs and —when Bella finally had enough guts to go and check on her, the scene made her break down on the spot.

Charlotte was in her bed; the covers pulled over her head. Charlotte Swan, seven years old, still can't touch the top of the kitchen counter, had desperately wished herself into a fairytale. However, this wasn't the one. This wasn't the one she dreamed of. The one where her mother was the princess, and she thought she'd get to be one too. And Peter's uncle came and saved her mother from the loneliness that haunted her. But when she saw Peter leave, she understood why her mom would again spend nights crying—in front of the television, with a bottle of shiny liquid.

It stopped when Edward came into their lives, and in that short time, she saw a glint in her mother's eyes she'd never seen before; it was something she'd read about in book … in fairytales.

She cried because she would look into her mother's eyes, and it would be gone.

And she cried because it was her fault.

When Bella pulled the covers back, her tears fell harder.

"I tried, Mommy. I'm sorry, I tried." Charlotte whimpered. Snot covered her face, and her eyes grew redder with every droplet that fell.

"What are you talking about, Char?" Bella whispered. She pulled the little girl to her chest, running her good hand through her wild hair.

"I tried, but when Peter leaves through the back door, he comes back. And I've never seen him leave through front door." Charlotte mumbled into her shirt.

"I tried to save everyone. It was working, Mommy. I saved Peter. He was in the playhouse, he had nothing to eat, and he was cold. I stole pizza from the fridge and fed it to him. I made him sandwiches sometimes so he could stay out there longer. I gave him Grandma's blanket—the one I used to protect me from the monsters at night because he needed it more. He's seen monsters that I can't even think of in my head. I stole Jake's old swimsuit because his pants were ripped."

"Charlotte…"

"I tried to help you. One you met Peter's uncle; you were so happy. I thought we could just all… be together. Isn't that what family's about? Peter doesn't have that; he only has his uncle. And I have you. And if everyone just is happy, then why can't we be together? I thought I could save it…" Charlotte trailed off. Her gaze burned hotly into the discarded lion she'd thrown against the wall earlier.

"Charlotte, it's not your fault. Don't you ever blame yourself again, do you hear me? Peter leaving is not your fault. Edward leaving is not your fault. You helped that little boy because that's who you are; an angel." Bella said sternly through the tear she shed. She refused to let Charlotte move an inch.

The boy in her backyard; a boy who snuck in through the back door. Peter Cullen tried to make a home in the yellow playhouse out back. He snuck through the back door, and into their lives. Wasn't it only natural he left their lives through the front?

"It doesn't matter anyway, he's gone."

She didn't know him well, but one ruffle of his blonde curls, and he'd made a stamp on her heart. And clearly on her daughter's entire being.

She'd be damned if she was going to let him go that easily.

"No, Charlotte. He's coming back."

"What? No, he's not. He left with his Edward."

"He's not going anywhere, because we're going to go get him."

And she prayed with all the broken pieces of her heart that the silver car still sat at the bottom of the driveway


"What do you want to do Peter?" Edward asked, "I'm at a loss. I'm not sure Bella even wants to speak with me right now. I'm going to have to eat a lot of crow for this one, kiddo."

"Ew, that's nasty." Peter complained, "you don't need to share the nasty details of how you're going to make up with Bella."

Edward's eyes went wide.

"Not sure what you think that means, but I can tell you that you're 115% wrong," Edward responded, making a sour face.

"What's it mean then?" Peter said through narrowed eyes.

"Groveling—admitting I was wrong. And apologizing for it."

"You? Admit you're wrong?"

Now Peter was the one laughing.

"All right, all right." Edward said after he let his nephew laugh it out for a moment., "I'm serious. But what do you want to do? Are you hungry? Do you want to sleep? We can go back to my house. I know you said you don't want to talk about it yet, but we have to soon."

"Uncle E, I can't do any of those things until we talk to Bella. Charlotte probably thinks I'm gone for good."

Edward knew in his heart this was the thing he had to do first, but the practical part of him, the doctor, was yelling at him to look Peter over. He seemed fine, the past hour they'd been sitting in the car, but he'd been on his own for God knew how long. Peter told him he didn't want to talk about what happened yet. Not until he could tell both Edward and Bella at the same time. Another reason he needed to get this over with soon.

"Okay, then, let's go," Edward said. He opened his door and got out. Peter followed suit, looking up at his uncle.

"Really?"

"Yes. You're right. We need to do this now." He looked at the house and took a deep breath as they walked up the driveway.


Bella had nearly dragged Charlotte down the stairs. The small girl struggled to wipe her eyes and keep pace with her mother. They were doing it. They were going to get Peter.

Or so she thought.

Her mother ripped the door open and stopped dead in her tracks.

Edward stood there, eyes wide and fist raised as if he was going to knock. Peter stood behind him, startle crossing his face. And for the first time in his life, Peter saw his uncle speechless. All he could do was stare. After a few seconds, Edward lowered his arm.

"I-we…were just about to knock," Edward said, looking down at the ground. His tall form was angled slightly, and he tried to avoid Bella's eyes. A hurricane of guilt washed through him—he'd never spoken to any woman that way. If Esme was here, she'd wring his neck with his stethoscope. He saw the redness of her tear-stained face and wanted to throw up. As an emergency room doctor, it took a lot to get to him, but Bella Swan crying was the currently the number one thing that could put him on his knees.

"Can we come in please, Bella?" Peter asked, slipping past his uncle.

Bella stared, still in shock, but nodded meekly.

"Uh, yeah. Come in."

Peter strolled in, passing by Edward, leaving him almost frozen in the doorway. This was a place where he'd felt at home. He made his way over to Charlotte, who, despite the blotchiness, was wide-eyed and beaming at him.

"You came back!" Charlotte cried, tossing her small arms around his neck. He met her hug, throwing his arms around her shoulders.

"We had to," Peter said, turning back to look at his uncle, who had finally defrosted and stepped into the house. Bella shut the door lightly behind him.

"Why don't you two go play upstairs, Charlotte. I think Edward and I need to talk." Bella said, moving closer to Peter. She used her good arm to pull him against her, giving him a hug.

"Okay, Mom," Charlotte said. On their way to the stairs, she stopped in front of Edward. Edward's eyed widened again when Charlotte's arms wound around his legs, and she pressed her head against him.

"I'm glad you're back too."


Edward and Bella sat on the couch. Though there was no tension in the air, it was quiet. She figured she needed to let him talk. She thought back to the words he spat at her in his fit of rage and took a deep breath. She knew deep down he didn't mean it. The Edward she knew was kind, sweet. He cared about her; she knew that. She tried to put herself in the situation.

"I don't even know how you're sitting here with me." He said quietly. He put his head down into his hands, "that already tells me how much stronger you are than me."

"Edward…" She gently pressed a hand on his shoulder.

"If I was in your position, I-I don't even know what I'd be doing. Smacking me, hitting me, god—I can't even imagine you want to see me anymore after what I did and said. I can't even think about that." He didn't look at her.

Bella stayed quiet. She had a feeling he was going to continue. Edward raised his head from his hands, his eyes were rimmed red. He cupped a hand and kept it under his nose.

And despite everything that's happened, Bella's heart sank.

"I can't even…process everything that's happened in the past hour, two hours. Literally, it's just so much. And I'm physically sick with myself. I'm an E.R. doctor for crying out loud, it takes a lot to get me worked up to the point where I'm making myself sick. And literally, everything I did earlier, every stupid thing I said, is doing exactly that. And I shouldn't even be talking to you, because I'm probably going to say something to hurt you again like a fucking idiot.

The only real thing I should be saying besides groveling and begging on my knees for you to even listen to my apology, is, thank you. For everything you've done—taking him in. He didn't tell me much, but he told me enough. That he's responsible for everything; sneaking into your daughter's playhouse out back. Backed up everything you said … that you just found out about him today. He said you tried to call a number he gave you—my number. I'm guessing that's why you called me twice randomly this afternoon.

And then, instead of calling the police and making this a huge ordeal because you didn't want to scare him or make him uncomfortable, you had to bite the bullet and tell me. I can't even imagine that—how the hell do you tell a guy you're seeing that you have the nephew he told you about last night at your house. Or that your daughter has been keeping him fed and clothed under your nose for what, ten days? God, that's almost comical." He chuckled dryly, finding no real humor in the situation.

"Only for me to blow up like an asshole. No, worse than that. There's not even a word for it." Edward continued.

"Please, Edward. Yes, you said something terrible, but I don't think you meant it. You were under a lot of stress."

"Bella, of course, I didn't mean it. I could never mean something like that…not to you. God, I've never even said anything remotely like that in my life. My mother would kill me. And then to just storm out like…some miserable idiot who couldn't handle the mess he made. I just needed…a moment in my own space. My head felt like it was going to explode." Edward said and his eyes widened. He turned to look Bella directly in the eyes.

"None of that was true. I know you're the best mother to Charlotte; a blind man could see how much you love her. And not just her, and I know that because of the way you took care of Peter. I want to say sorry, but I'm not sure that's ever going to be enough. And the idea that you could even be involved in something…ugh, I can't even picture it in my mind. I'm sick to my core thinking I could even think a concept like that would be even an inch near the realm of truth."

He shook his head again, but he didn't lose eye contact. His auburn hair swayed into his eyes as he moved.

Bella couldn't stop herself from grabbing the corner of his face with her good hand. She held his face and stared deep into his forest green eyes. And she knew he was telling the truth; she could see it in every small tear that rolled down his face, every spark of his iris. Gently, she pressed his head into the crook of her neck. She ran her hand through his already messy hair. He pressed himself into her, taking deep breaths. Bella could feel the heat coming from his face; tiny droplets stained the corner of her blouse.

She pressed her lips gently above his ear.

They lost track of time, not realizing how long they sat like that. Bella kept doing rounds of stroking his hair and planting small kisses on different parts of his head. She made her circuit nine times before Edward finally spoke.

"Can you ever possibly forgive me?" Edward asked, raising his head, He moved until his forehead gently laid against hers.

"Edward, I already have." She said softly.

His face scrunched closer, his nose brushing gently against hers. His eyes were burning into hers, and he couldn't help himself as he pressed his lips tenderly against hers. And she, of course, couldn't resist him, especially now. She leaned deeply into his kiss. His arms wound around her gently, cautious not to bump her arm. She trailed her lips down to the crook of his neck, peppering kisses to match the beat of his heart. Careful of her arm, he pulled her on top of him as he laid back on the couch. His long legs hung off the side as she snuggled closer.

He was lost in her.

Their makeup session didn't last long—apparently, they'd already been taking their sweet time. The sound of feet on the stairs registered in her brain by the time they hit the wooden floor.

"Mommy! What are you guys doing?"

Another pair of footsteps followed as Edward quickly tried to upright them.

"I think that's called eating crow, Charlotte," Peter said quietly.


Another baseball zoomed by Peter.

The batting cage in the next town over was Edward's idea of helping Peter get comfortable enough to talk about what happened before he left home. Edward knew Peter was angry—so was he. He knew something had happened in his brother's house; he didn't know to what extent. Peter had never been the confrontational type—but the pressure of the week had gotten to him. Everyone waited for him—apparently, he was the suffer in the silence type.

Always had been, and probably always would be.

"I'm telling you it's not going to work, Uncle Edward," Peter said coolly. Edward could tell something was under his skin—he never called him by his full name unless he wanted to fight. Edward ripped open the door to the cage, stepping in and shutting it behind him.

"Peter, give me the bat." He said sternly. Peter's eyes went wide. He obliged, frowning as his uncle approached him.

"You want to get angry? Do it here. Get back. See? I'm angry too." As if on cue, a ball launched from the pitching machine and cracked loudly against the bat as Edward swung it. He hit it, but not hard enough for it to fly into the back net of the cage.

"That was for you. I'm angry at you for running away."

Another pitch.

A harder crack.

It didn't hit the net but went further than the first one.

"And that? I'm angry at everyone giving up on you coming home."

Another pitch.

The hardest crack.

It sprang against the net, a loud clang ringing out as it stretched back to the safety fence.

"And that? Most of all, I'm angry at Garrett and Kate for driving you too it."

Edward threw the bat on the ground, "your turn."

Peter's eyes were wide after hearing everything his uncle just confessed. He'd never known that other people in his family had given up on him. So, why hadn't he? He knew Edward was mad at him for running away—he couldn't blame him. But Edward hadn't done anything to show that anger. If anything, he helped Peter in ways he didn't think other people could. He took him to the store to get new clothes the after they stayed at Bella's the night he found out about him. He took him to get a haircut and to get his favorite meal. And he repaid him, how? By getting angry.

And what about Bella? And Charlotte?

Peter picked up the bat

Edward and Peter had made a habit of staying with Bella and Charlotte—mostly for Peter's sake, but he didn't think his uncle was complaining about staying with his girlfriend every night. He felt comfortable knowing everyone was there with him—close, safe. Bella made sure to check on him in the guest room every night, so did his uncle and Charlotte. She made sure the lion was placed firmly in the center of his bed before he climbed in every night. He finally had everything he ever wanted—a family.

"I'm angry." He said flatly, looking back at his uncle.

"At what?" Edward said from behind the fence.

"At them," Peter said, smacking the ball.

"Who's them?"

Another ball.

Another swing.

Another hit.

"My mom and dad."

"Why?"

Another ball.

Another swing.

Another hit.

"Because I hate them."

"Why?"

"Because…"

Peter dropped the bat and dropped to his knees.

The sound of the metal gate behind ripped open.

Another ball.

The feeling of his uncle's arms wrapping around him and pulling him out of the way of the rogue pitch. The way they stayed around him while Peter buried his face into his chest.

The sound of the ball against the fence.

And finally, the soft, but desolate sounds of Peter Cullen shedding tears for the first time since he'd left home.

AN:

In the meantime,

Check out my facebook group "Mariescullen Fanfiction" for teasers, updates, photos, etc. Feel to free to discuss the chapter in my group! I'd love to see what you think!

Check out TwiFanficRecs for voting for your top ten favorite yearly fics! Vote for your favorites! I've got two stories "Breakable" and "Oh Reindeer" up in that poll! You can vote once a day.

I have another story starting Friday, an entirely almost prewritten. It's called Behind the Screen: Here's a summary and teaser.

Summary: Edward Cullen isn't the only person to fall into the lovesick trap of the online profile: Kimberly Smith. Meanwhile, Bella Swan, television host and house-flipper, has one too many instances of people mistaking her as someone else. Can her friends Garrett and Benjamin solve this strange Catfish case? MTV's Catfish with a Twilight twist.

Here's a teaser:

"Excuse me-" she started to say. She tried to pull her arm away, but the beefy bicep was strong enough to turn her all the way around.

"Kimberly? Is that you? What are you doing in Seattle?" The man said.

"Um, I'm sorry, I'm not Kimberly. I don't know you. Let go of me, please." Bella said, staring at the man's hand.

"Come on sweetie, don't play dumb with me. Of course, you're Kimberly. Kimberly Smith. Kind of a bitch move to just ghost me out of the blue and then pretend I don't even exist when you see me in public." The man rolled his eyes, and his voice gave a hint of a chip on his shoulder.

He didn't release her arm.

Whoever the hell this Kimberly person was had done a number on him.

Happy Reading,

Sarah