A/N:

Thank you for everyone reading and reviewing. And thank you to Mel Cee for betaing-You're amazing!


Age 13

It was the eve of Sam's eighteenth birthday and the last day he would be held to a corrupt system. After today he could go anywhere, do anything. But was that a good thing without a proper foundation?

"Sam, please don't do this," Bella pleaded, trying to break free from his grasp.

"Bella, cut the shit. You keep prancing around here in your tight jeans. You know exactly what you're doing. Why does Eddie get to sleep next to your ass every night?" Sam bellowed, pulling her closer to him.


24 hours earlier

Three years living under Victoria and Laurent's roof had gone by in a flash. Three years.

Bella and Edward were now thirteen years old, and things were never better and never worse. That was the double-edged sword of being in foster care together. Their circumstances sucked, but at least they had each other..

Bella had many prospective families come, month after month. But she constantly pushed them away. Every time she played a different role.

One visit, Bella would play a whiny girl, who only liked fancy things and hated all foods except Brie cheese. The next visit, she would rock back and forth, pretending to see dead people; she really scared Edward when she acted that one out. Other times, Bella would preach to them about the meaning of life and how they were all wrong for her and her beliefs. Mrs. Cope was at her wits' end. Victoria and Laurent didn't understand why Bella acted this way, so they chalked it up to mental illness. But Michelle Cope knew better; she knew Bella was behaving this way in fear of being adopted.

Although Mrs. Cope was aware of Bella's heinous plan, it was completely out of her hands. Sure, she tried to reason with Bella and explain that she could have a family and life outside of foster care. But nothing held any value to her apart from Edward.

Out of ideas and patience, Mrs. Cope turned a blind eye to her antics. It wasn't like she could force Bella to act normal in front of prospective families. Then she would get in trouble for harassing the children under her supervision.

It was during today's meeting when Mrs. Cope thought of one more strategy to get Bella to snap out of this Edward-induced obsession.

"Bella, I have a question for you and you're not going to like it, but I need you to really think about it. Promise me." Mrs. Cope was weary and didn't like playing games with her kids, but it was in Bella's best interest.

Bella was already on high alert. During their recent conversations, Mrs. Cope told Bella that if she didn't do better in the Burtons' house, they were not willing to keep her.

Ever since Charlotte came to live with Victoria and Laurent, they didn't need the older girl now. They had a shiny new six-year-old. Bella was close to Charlie's age when she first was sent to live in foster care. She didn't blame Charlie for being lovable. What six-year-old wasn't? But a righteous thirteen-year-old was considered undesirable and had too many years of trauma for anyone to willingly unpack. Bella knew this. She fought to stay with Edward in spite of this. Edward still had no clue of Bella's crazy plan; if he did, he would only worry and convince her not to go through with it. He saw how lovely she was and that scared her. It scared her because she didn't want anyone else to see what he saw. If they did, she would be taken away and be without him.

Bella started shaking her head no and played with the jelly bracelets that she'd stolen from the mall.

"Isabella." Mrs. Cope was once a sweet and soft-spoken person toward Bella. Now nine years into dealing with her and her messes, she couldn't hide her disdain.

"What?" she barked. Bella's issue with authority was becoming a problem.

"First, don't speak to me like that. Second, I know you're hell-bent on staying at the Burtons' but here's a wild thought for you—how would you feel if I told you that Edward is still interested in getting adopted and that I have some potential families?" Mrs. Cope's eyebrow quirked up, and she put on her best poker face. While the first part about Edward wanting to be adopted was true, Michelle lied about the latter. Unfortunately, getting a family who wanted a thirteen-year-old boy, with not only physical scars but emotional ones too, was damn near impossible.

Bella gulped visibly; she was out of moves. She always planned for what she could control, which was her adoption status. Edward had made it clear from the start that no families were interested in a wounded little boy, and the likelihood of being selected only lessened as years went by, so Bella felt no reason to worry about Edward. But if Mrs. Cope had families who wanted to meet him, what could she do? It's not like Edward would make himself unloveable as she does. He was not good at pretending … neither was Bella but her fear overrode any obstacles.

"Bella, I know you love Edward, but you need to prepare yourself for the day when you might have to live without him."

Mrs. Cope left her with food for thought. She didn't want to scare Bella and she didn't want Bella to hurt herself. Mrs. Cope was doing what she thought was best. What she promised to do when she first started her job: get children homes. Real homes.

People aren't homes, Michelle thought to herself.


The Burton household had become a depressing and dark place to be.

A year ago, Victoria fell while shoveling and started abusing Oxycontin. Most days she could barely get out of bed. Laurent made sure she was presentable for whenever Mrs. Cope had planned to visit. Charlotte was her only reason for getting out of bed on a good day, and that was only once a week.

Laurent, on the other hand, was abusing porn. He watched it anytime he wasn't at work. He barely checked on the children, and they had to figure out how to completely fend for themselves and now Charlotte. He also started taking up drinking.

It was just Edward, Bella, Sam, and Charlotte now.

Embry's mom was released from jail and had temporary custody. He was really happy to be back with her, but his new step-dad, not so much.

Seth was adopted six months after Bella and Edward came to stay with the Burtons. His adopted family was what was considered a unicorn. His new parents were stable and loving. They made an average income and spent as much time with their new son as possible.

Sam had become bitter and angry about being unwanted and so close to aging out. Sure, freedom seemed nice, but there was a lot of responsibility attached to it. It was not like he had a decent job, and while his grades were good, they were not Harvard-worthy. He excelled at hacking and tech. If Sam did it as a job or for school, then the fun would be sucked out of it. He began acting out soon after Seth's adoption and made everyone's life miserable, except Bella's. He still kept his soft spot for her.

Bella made her way back to her foster home, wishing she had never had the meeting with Mrs. Cope.

She huffed as she walked through the house, finding beer bottles thrown around the living room and the electric fireplace tipped over. There was a patch of blood on the hardwood floor.

What the hell, she thought.

Her first instinct was to find Edward and make sure he was all right.

She made her way downstairs to the basement, looking for Edward. His bed was made, the plaid comforter tucked in neatly, and it looked like it hadn't been touched since before she left. His notebooks and journals were neatly stacked on his desk, indicating he hadn't written today.

Bella dashed up the stairs, growing worried about her boyfriend. Could she call him her boyfriend?

Sure, they never labeled what they were to one another, but what else could she call the person who was everything to her?

Rounding the corner to the kitchen, Bella saw Laurent leaning against the molding. His tall frame barricaded Bella from furthering her search.

"Oh hello, Bella." Laurent sneered. He must have been drinking, she thought. She smelt the alcohol on his breath, and knots grew in her stomach.

Alcohol made her nervous. People weren't themselves after they drank. Most people Bella knew weren't kind before alcohol, let alone after.

"Hello, Laurent," she whispered, hoping someone would come down the stairs.

"What did you say?" he spat, grabbing Bella's chin and moving her face so that she was looking straight at him.

"Hello, Daddy Laurent," Bella corrected herself, cringing. Something about Laurent made her uncomfortable. He stared a little too long, a little too much, not to mention the name he had her call him. While she was relieved that he'd never touched her inappropriately, she did her best to avoid being alone with him.

"Better but don't cringe next time."

Bang. A loud noise echoed throughout the small space, startling Bella.

Edward walked in from the back door, directly across from the small hallway Bella was cornered in, and knocked over the umbrella basket next to the door.

He did this as a warning that someone else was there, but he also did it to piss Laurent off. Him and his sick wife.

Laurent stalked down the corridor, squaring his shoulders with each step he took.

Edward prepared himself for what was next. He balled his fists at his sides, not that it would do any good.

Laurent stood in front of the young boy. "You think you can destroy my home, you little orphan!"

When Laurent drank, he became violent and oftentimes blacked out to the damage he created.

Crack. Laurent took his open hand and slapped Edward across the face.

Edward couldn't help the tears that fell from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. He attempted to clear his mouth, swallowing down the mixture of saliva and blood, but the blood continued to pool.

There was no mercy shown from drunk Laurent though; he proceeded to grab Edward by his shirt collar with both his hands, hoisting the boy up in his hold while Edward's legs dangled from the floor.

Bella ran down the hallway and began pulling on Laurent's shirt in vain.

"Please, don't hurt him," she begged, sobbing.

"You will learn some respect, Edwin."

In the three years that they had lived there, Laurent had never called him by his proper name. He had stopped trying to correct him. He saw no point in trying now, so Edward nodded, willing to do anything to end this, even if it meant agreeing with his outrageous demands. He knew Bella wouldn't be safe much longer.

Bang. Bang.

Laurent let go of Edward's shirt with one hand, keeping the other firmly in place, and gut punched the poor kid twice.

"Oomph." Edward groaned as he was dropped to the floor. Edward doubled over in pain, desperately trying to catch his breath. He turned his head, not wanting to lose sight of his attacker, for fear he'd go after Bella, but it didn't matter; Laurent was already out the front door.

"EDWARD," Bella bellowed, scrambling to the floor where Edward lay. She started wiping his mouth with the sleeve of her shirt, all the while petting his head, brushing the hair out of his eyes, swiping away his tears and the blood. When she tried to lift his shirt to see if the bruises had started to show on his stomach, his hand fell on top of hers to stop her. She glanced down at his eyes. They were red-rimmed and fresh tears were pooling from what she guessed was a mixture of pain and shame.

"Let me help you." Bella continued to try and take off his shirt, but he kept his hand firmly in place.

She looked at him questioningly.

"Charlotte," he wheezed, nodding his head toward the door leading to the backyard.

Bella ran to the door, wondering what she would find as she remembered the mess she walked into when she first got home.

Making her way down the wooden porch steps, she stopped at the bottom, dipping her head down, and she found Charlotte underneath. She was curled up in a ball, crying and rubbing her nose all over her flower-printed dress as her little body trembled. When she lifted her head to look at Bella, she was the picture of scared and broken—just like Bella felt.

Knowing what it was like to witness the traumatic events that had just transpired, Bella scooped Charlotte up in her arms and held her for a moment. Her hand rubbed soothing circles along her back as she swayed the two of them gently. Soon the sobs turned to soft hiccupping sounds and her shaking stopped.

Another minute or so went by, and Bella managed to untangle herself from Charlotte's koala hug. She proceeded to wipe Charlotte's tears and pushed her brown hair back away from her face.

"Are you okay, Charlie?" She used the nickname that "Eddie" gave her.

Charlotte loved Edward or as she affectionately called him: "Eddie." Bella would have been jealous if the little girl wasn't six years old.

Charlotte nodded and threw her arms back around Bella's neck, squeezing the air out of her lungs momentarily.

"We have to go help Eddie," Bella informed as she pulled away so that she could look Charlie in the eye. "I want you to go to your room and wait for me and Eddie, okay?"

"NO!" the terrified little girl screamed.

"Eddie's hurt, Charlie, and he needs my help. This is a big person job." Bella started spewing whatever sounded mature enough. She really needed to get back to Edward.

"I help." Charlotte was stubborn.

"No, Charlie."

"NO. NO. NO." The little girl started wailing.

This wasn't getting them anywhere, and Edward really needed help, so Bella caved.

"Fine," Bella said, grinding her teeth.

They made their way back up the porch and into the house, where they found Edward leaning up against the wall, still seated but attempting to get up.

"Oh no you don't!" Bella reprimanded, setting Charlotte down on the tile floor next to her.

She made her way over to Edward and curled her arm under his, trying to get a grip on him so he was leaning on her. Like this, they managed to get Edward up and on his feet. He was still hunched over in pain, one arm around his stomach, but this was an easier way to help him.

Charlotte carefully went over to Edward, who was still leaning against the wall, only now standing.

And she hugged him, gently. So gentle he barely could feel her touch.

"Love you, Eddie!" Charlie gave him a toothy grin and went to pick up her dolls from the living room floor before Victoria and Laurent came to yell at her for the mess. As if that was their biggest problem.

Bella grabbed Edward again so he was resting his weight on her. "Let me help you downstairs."

Slowly but surely, Bella managed to get Edward down the basement stairs and lay him in his bed.

Once she caught her breath, she clutched her side. Wow! Edward got heavy, she thought.

"Bella?" Edward reached for her hand.

"I'm here. Do you need anything? I can make you something to eat." Bella chewed on her bottom lip; she really should make Charlie some lunch. Bella doubted that Victoria fed her anything else since the French toast Bella made before leaving this morning.

"No, I'm fine, but I could use a kiss from my girl." Edward pouted. He was so damn cute even when injured.

Bella leaned down toward the bed to give him a smooch. He raised his arm to caress her face.

She pressed her lips to his fiercely, desperate to let him know how much she loved him.

He pulled back slightly, because she was leaning on his stomach, not that Edward would dare tell her she was hurting him. Grinning through the pain, he whispered, "I love you, baby.".

A soft breath escaped her lips. Bella swooned anytime he called her baby. All these years later, she still got butterflies from his smiles and kisses.

She nervously picked at her fingernails when she saw the time on the alarm clock beside them.

"Go." Edward commanded, "Go fix Charlie something to eat." Just like always, he was putting her needs above his own.

"No I can stay—" Bella was cut off by Edward's lips crashing into hers.

"Bella, go! Charlie needs to eat. I'll be fine." Edward leaned back in the bed and pulled the covers toward him, grabbing a book off the bedside table. "I'll be here, resting. Can you bring me an ice pack when you're done?"

The love-drunk girl nodded, making her way up the stairs to the kitchen.

Charlie was sitting at the breakfast nook with her dolls next to her, eyes glued in the direction of the basement door.

"Eddie okay?" Charlie asked, gnawing on the inside of her cheek.

"Yes, he'll be fine." Bella reassured the small girl. "Want a grilled cheese?"

Charlotte squealed and clapped her hands. Bella made the best grilled cheese sandwiches.


The rest of the day was uneventful. Bella made lunch and dinner for Charlotte and Edward.

Sam was out God knows where with God knows who.

Charlotte was a pretty independent six-year-old and played with her dolls, or her playhouse in the yard. Bella or Edward put the monitor wherever Charlotte set up shop on days when Victoria didn't feel like playing the role of mother, which was most days.

Victoria spent Saturdays either at her therapist's office or driving around because she claimed she felt the least anxious when driving.

Sam came home around midnight, nobody the wiser, except for Bella, who double checked with him about convincing Laurent that new security cameras were a waste of money.

Throughout the past three years, Sam had aided in Bella and Edward's nightly cohabitation. He didn't understand the pair, but if Bella needed him, he didn't hesitate before he jumped.

Laurent didn't come back that night. Bella was grateful since she didn't have the energy to fight him off if he came after her, and Edward was clearly out of commission, so he wouldn't be able to come to her rescue again.

Later that night, Bella laid her head on the pillow next to Edward, who was dozing off, and recalled the events of the day. With all of the commotion from Laurent and his drunken tirade, she almost forgot about Mrs. Cope's warning. Edward had prospective parents interested in adopting him.

Mrs. Cope made it clear they would be separated if that day came. It wasn't like Bella could beg them to take her with them too.

She couldn't fight the tears that fell. Losing Edward would be like losing everything good in this world. He was all that she had that was real. That was hers. Sure, Bella had Charlotte, but Charlotte depended on Bella. If Edward was gone, who would Bella depend on?

This question carried her into the next day.

Bella was a zombie as she made breakfast for everyone. Since moving with the Burtons, Bella had become the cook. Most days, Victoria could barely make it to the bathroom, let alone down the stairs to prepare a meal. And Laurent was Laurent—he was too wrapped up indulging in his vices. Food wasn't even on his radar unless it came from a drive-through.

Sam took notice of Bella's somber mood.

"What's wrong, Bella? Eddie-boy didn't hold you last night?" Sam joked.

With Edward stuck in bed, recuperating, Sam felt comfortable enough to speak freely with Bella. Usually his comments were isolated to hushed whispering while Edward was in the bathroom.

"Nothing." She looked up from the pan, where she was scrambling eggs, and burst into tears. "Edward might get adopted soon."

"And that's a bad thing?" Sam couldn't see the problem. All he had ever desired was to be wanted. Why would she find a problem with that?

"Yes. I mean…" Bella shuffled her weight from one leg to the other then turned around from the stove, waving the spatula. "Yes, it is a bad thing. You know why? Because I need Edward. He's— he's—" Bella began hyperventilating.

Sam made his way over to Bella, taking the kitchen utensil out from her hand and turning off the burner. He grabbed her shoulders. "Bella, you listen and you listen good."

Bella was still crying so hard she couldn't focus on Sam or anything else. Aliens could have landed and she would have been none the wiser.

Sam did the only thing he knew to do. He shook her.

Hard.

It startled her, but it did get her to calm down..

"Bella. STOP." He gritted his teeth; she needed to hear this and she needed to hear it now.

He held her shoulders still and looked her square in the eye. "Edward is not your everything. He will leave one day. Whether it's with a family, or aging out. He will get a job and have a life. A life that doesn't remind him of the time when he was an orphan being shuffled from foster home to foster home. And you know what he wouldn't want? A girl who reminds him of that terrible time in his life. You need to make your own happiness and your own life. He's not yours to keep. Edward can't protect you forever. At some point, you need to protect yourself."

Bella looked at Sam with such rage and hatred. How could he say those things to her? He must not know her as well as he claimed.

Sam was just doing what he thought was best. Bella needed to toughen up or else she was going to break. He didn't want to see that. He'd had no direction his entire life. Sam's mother committed suicide in front of him, so he knew how fragile life was and that love was just a word.

People left. They always did. It was the name of the game.

It was the eve of Sam's eighteenth birthday and the last day he would be held to a corrupt system. After today he could go anywhere, do anything. But was that a good thing without a proper foundation?

"Sam, please don't do this," Bella pleaded, trying to break free from his grasp.

"Bella, cut the shit. You keep prancing around here in your tight jeans. You know exactly what you're doing. Why does Eddie get to sleep next to your ass every night?" Sam bellowed, pulling her closer to him

"Sam, I love him," Bella reasoned. Couldn't he see their connection?!

"Bella, love doesn't mean a damned thing. First opportunity out of here and he's gone. Poof. It will be like he never existed. Edward who?" Sam knew Bella would be in trouble if she was left here alone with Laurent and Victoria. She needed to start seeing things clearly and learn to stand on her own; she needed to be more independent and think of herself first.

Sam noticed how Laurent looked at Bella, how he noticed her new curves at thirteen. He'd make comments, but never progressed past that. Laurent and his advances were always interrupted before they got further than caressing her arm or a pervy comment about how grown up she was starting to look or what a good girl she had been for Daddy Laurent. With Sam leaving and Edward's potential adoption on the horizon, Bella would need to learn how to protect herself and that started with ditching those too tight jeans and learning to defend herself more.

Now Bella was back to crying. She pulled free from the hold Sam had on her shoulders and fell to the floor.

She didn't even bother to get up when she heard the door open. Laurent was back.

"Laurent," Sam greeted.

Laurent walked long strides into the house. "What the hell is going on here, boy?"

Laurent liked Sam, just not enough to keep him.

"Oh nothing. She's just having woman problems," Sam said flippantly.

Laurent rolled his eyes. "We should have just waited for Charlotte. This one was already damaged goods when she came here. Such a shame," he muttered. "Tomorrow, you need a ride to the train station, right?"

Sam shook his head, looking at a disheveled Bella on the floor. "Nah, you know what—drive me now. My time here is done. There's nothing more I can do." The double meaning wasn't lost on Bella.

Sam went upstairs to his room and grabbed his single duffle bag. Not having much came in handy when you needed to make a quick exit.

As Laurent and Sam made their way out the door, Bella rose from the floor, running to the foyer to see Sam off. However, she was too angry to say anything, so instead she simply glared.

Bella desperately wanted to hug him and say "goodbye," but in the doorway, she stood, her emotions swirling inside her as she thought about what he'd said to her. When he took in the look on her face, Sam gave her a solemn smile, nodding his head slightly before he climbed into the car.

Another person she cared about left her. Sam was right about one thing: they always leave.


The next morning, before the sun had even risen, Bella and Edward lay next to one another kissing, neither one of them able to find peace in sleep. Now teenagers, they kissed more freely than before, having years of practice coupled with raging hormones.

"Edward?" Bella asked slightly breathlessly, pulling away from his mouth.

Edward nodded for her to go on with whatever she wanted to say.

"Are you my—I mean am I your—am I your girlfriend?" Bella asked meekly. After her conversation with Sam, Bella needed reassurance.

Edward jolted back at her question. How could she not see that she was his girl and so much more?

"Yes, you're my girlfriend, but you're also my best friend, and most importantly you're my baby." He stuck his tongue out at her, knowing that she loved being called that.

Elated by his words and the confirmation that she mattered to him as much as he mattered to her, she crashed her mouth to his, giving him messy kisses.

"Boyfriend." She winked. As she lost herself in the feel of him beside her, Bella was trying to push Sam and Mrs. Cope's comments out of her mind.

Whack. The basement door was pulled open, and Bella scrambled to her feet, failing to the floor in the dark room.

"Get your asses up here. Yes, Bella, I know you're down there, slut." Victoria sneered.

Once they made their way up the stairs, they heard someone continuing to ring the doorbell.

"Laurent told me never to answer the door at night. Go answer it, brat." Victoria dragged Edward to the door.

Bella stood back, afraid, her hands clasped in front of her as she watched in horror. In that moment, Victoria resembled a little kid.

Edward opened the door to find two grim-looking police officers.

Everything after that was a blur.

"Swerved into oncoming traffic…"

"Flipped the divider..."

"Happened so fast, nobody suffered…"

"Three dead, two injured…"

Laurent and Sam were dead.