A/N: Happy Monday. Let's see how this plays out.

Carlisle didn't even remember the drive home. He could think of nothing and everything all at once. The result was a white space in his head that was loud with a terrible, clamoring noise.

Coming into the living room, it was obvious children lived here. Riley's toys were scattered around, and Bree's playpen sat off to the side. There were baby blankets and the laundry-washed and folded that morning-still sat on the coffee table waiting to be put away. Carlisle stared at the stack of Bree's tiny pants and dresses sitting next to a stack of Riley's jeans.

Edward bolted, running for the downstairs bathroom, and Carlisle heard retching. The sound got his feet moving. This was something he could do. He knew how to take care of sick people. He had no idea how to begin to deal with what had just happened.

When had he gotten so used to his house being so noisy? He went to the kitchen to get a cool glass of water and then went to the bathroom. He set the water down on the counter and knelt beside Edward, rubbing his back as he tried to catch his breath. All the while, he kept his ear out, automatically worried because he didn't hear Bree's happy babbling or Riley playing nearby. Every few seconds, he would remember again that they weren't here, and a horrible, helpless anguish began to tug at him. He knew how to take care of his husband, so he concentrated on that.

Carlisle flushed the mess away when Edward rested his head against the side of the counter. He washed out his mouth and drank the rest of the water Carlisle offered him and leaned into his embrace when he put his arms around him. "Please tell me this isn't real," Edward whispered. "This can't be real, right? They're just out with Emmett and Rose. They're not gone. They can't be gone. Please tell me this isn't real."

Closing his eyes, Carlisle tilted his head against Edward's and didn't speak. Never in his life had he wanted so desperately to grant a wish, make this all unreal. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and prayed harder than he ever had, entreating a higher power to undo all of this. As though, if he could wish hard enough, Riley would come knock on the door, demanding their attention. Bree would cry for one of them, awake from her nap, ready to be changed, fed, and cuddled.

Carlisle's shoulders shook as he began to cry quietly. This kind of pain, so deep in his heart, was utterly bewildering. He'd forgotten how to speak.

The doorbell rang, and they both stiffened. Mr. Newton had said someone would be by to pick up the kids' things. For a second, Carlisle didn't think he could breathe. Edward made a distressed sound, low in his throat. They clung to each other.

The doorbell rang again. Repeatedly. They rose together, both of them shaking. Carlisle caught a glimpse of Edward's face in the mirror. He wasn't crying. His eyes were blank, his stare remote.

Carlisle wiped at his own tears and started toward the door. He was surprised when Edward took his hand, coming with him, but even that emotion didn't linger. He was feeling too many things all at once to concentrate on anything specific. He opened the door with dread.

Another jolt went down Carlisle's spine when he saw not a social worker, but Edward's parents on the stoop. He clutched the door frame. The rush of hate that went through him was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. He could have torn them apart, ripped them both to shreds in a heartbeat.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" Edward asked through clenched teeth. The words were strangled, choked with rage.

"We've come to take you home," Elizabeth said. She wasn't looking at Carlisle at all while Ed was looking at him with barely contained malevolence.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Edward asked. The question was loud enough that it drew the attention of their neighbor. The woman raised her head, looking across the way with curiosity and concern. "I am home. I'm not going anywhere with you."

Ed glanced to the side, noticing the neighbor-woman's attention. He looked to his son. "We should talk inside, Junior, if you're not ready to come to your senses yet."

"Like hell," Carlisle said, finding his voice. He didn't want these people in his home. The rage in him was growing, and he wanted them far away before he lost what little control he had.

"No. Let them come in." Edward stepped back, opening the door wider and pulling Carlisle back with him. When he looked at Carlisle, his eyes were anything but dead. They were desperate and sad and furious. "I need to know. I need to know how the hell they could do this."

"You think this is what we wanted?" Elizabeth asked as soon as the door was closed behind them. "I can't make decisions for you. I can't make you leave a man who treats you like garbage, but it's not right to put innocent children, who have no choice, in that kind of danger. We came to see if you'd reconsider now that you understand what this man has cost you."

"What I've cost him?" Carlisle said. "I love your son. I would never want to see him hurt in any way, let alone this. How could you have done this to him? It's unforgivable."

"And I suppose you find beating him and using him forgivable?" Ed stepped into Carlisle's personal space, his stance intimidating. "As always, you're good at ignoring your responsibility. You should be in jail for what you've done, and you're blaming us?"

Edward stepped between them, forcing both of them to step back. "There is no one here to blame except you. My kids, Dad. Do you understand? You got my kids taken away from me because you don't listen. You don't hear. My son and my daughter. I'm never going to…" His voice cracked, and he put his hands to his mouth, his expression twisting from one of rage to one of agony. "I'm never going to see them again. You did that. You." He stumbled backward, almost as if he couldn't hold himself up. Carlisle put an arm around his waist, holding him up, holding on to him because if he didn't occupy his hands, he was going to break something.

"What have you been saying all along? This is your choice. That's what you want us to hear, right?" Ed said, his eyes narrowed at his son. "You want to be this asshole's punching bag? I suppose that's your business. But you deal with the consequences of that like a man. You don't get to cry about a choice you made. You wanted to be a father, then you have to think about what's best for them, even if you won't think about what's best for you."

"You don't get to tell me about what's best for me or my kids," Edward shouted. "Do you even understand how you raised me? Do you understand that you told me since I was tiny I was bad, wrong for feeling sad, angry, any-fucking-thing? You think you're some kind of model father because I never cried, but I reached adulthood thinking a little bit of affection made me weak. You are fucking poison. I was terrified that I'd raise my kids the way you raised me. I was glad they had Carlisle who would never hesitate to hug them, never tell them they were less because they had emotions. You were something I had to overcome before I would let myself near kids. I was the risk. Me. Because of you."

"Your father was a good father," Elizabeth said

"You're fucking delusional."

"That's enough," Ed said, pointing a finger at his son. "Neither of us has done a damn thing close to what your asshole husband has done to you. We're your parents."

"No. You're fucking not. My parents are dead." Edward stepped forward, forcing his father to take a step back. "You're fucking dead to me, do you hear that?"

Carlisle was surprised when Ed just laughed. "You're disowning us? That's rich. That's what we could have done to you, maybe we should have done, when you-"

"When I came out to you? Is that what you're about to say? Are you about to suggest you deserve some kind of medal for not disowning me because I had the audacity to be gay? I know you never liked it. I know you've always wished you had a straight son. You think you're great because you were gracious enough to accept me despite of that?

"Well, guess what. What I do in my home with my husband is a part of me. I didn't decide to be gay to disappoint you. I didn't decide to be submissive to make you uncomfortable. Fuck you. For all of that. Fuck you for doing this to us because you wouldn't listen, because you wouldn't even try to understand. Fuck. You."

"Junior-"

Carlisle wrapped his arm tighter around his husband and glared at his parents. "You need to get out of our house. Now."

Ed rounded on him. "Don't you-"

"Now!" Carlisle bellowed. The shreds of his control were snapping one after another. He let go of Edward and stepped toward his father-in-law. "You want to call me cruel? Do you have any idea what you've done? Not just to your son. Your own son. How could you have seen him as a father, seen how beautiful he was with our children, and destroyed that? You destroyed our family. You think you saved those kids? How? Do you know what you sent them back to? Riley was already angry and confused; what do you think this is going to do to him? Do you understand what life is like for a foster child? How many homes the average foster child has had? You ripped them out of a stable, loving home so they could live with strangers. Strangers who have no obligation to love them. How could you do this to Edward? How could you do this to children who called you Grandpa? I'll never understand how you can live with yourself."

"That's-" Ed started to say, but Carlisle was done. He was so done.

"I don't want to hear a word from either of you ever again. Get out. Get out of my fucking house." He stepped forward, and if Ed and Elizabeth hadn't stumbled backward, he would have pushed them. "Get out, and if I ever see you near either of us again, I swear, I'll-"

"You'll what?" Ed sneered, mirroring Carlisle's stance with his hands clutched in fists at his side. "Yes, such a pacifist you've married, Edward. Speaking of delusions."

"You hurt our children. You destroyed our family. Fuck pacifism, and fuck you." Edward stepped past them to the door. He pushed it open. "Out. Get out." He was the one who shoved at his father. "Get away from me. I can't stand the sight of you." When his parents were out on the stoop, he stared them down. "I will hate you for this for as long as I live," he said and slammed the door in their faces. He locked both the locks and slammed his palm hard against the door.

The house was silent. It was the most horrible silence Carlisle had ever heard. The only sound in the room now was their ragged breaths.

Edward didn't turn around. His hands were braced on the door. His head was bowed. His shoulders were rigid.

"You can always come home to us, Junior. Edward. Son," Elizabeth called through the door, her voice strained.

Edward slammed his palm on the door. "Get out! Get out! Get the fuck away from me!" He hit the door repeatedly, the sound loud enough that it had to have hurt his hand.

That sent Carlisle in motion. He took Edward by the wrist, simultaneously wrapping his arms around him and pulling him backward against his chest.

Edward crumpled like a rag doll, as if his fury had been the only thing keeping him going. Carlisle sank with him to the floor in their foyer. He could feel the sharp rise and fall of Edward's shoulders as he gasped for air.

When Edward broke, he did it with a scream. Suddenly, Carlisle understood why he hadn't been able to find any words before. There were no words for this. Nothing could make sense of what this felt like, but this, Edward's howl of rage, bewilderment, and absolute heartbreak, was exactly what it sounded like.

Hearing it, Carlisle broke, too. He rested his head on Edward's hunched back. They screamed. And cried. And sobbed together. They clutched at each other, as though trying to escape this incredible pain under each other's skin.

There was no escape from it. The pain didn't lessen, didn't loosen its hold at all. There was no way to wrap his head around this reality. Every part of him wanted to reject it.

"How?" Edward, turned by then so his head was buried at Carlisle's shoulder, said in a rasp of a voice. "How?"

Carlisle understood perfectly what he was asking. How had this happened to them? How was this real? How the hell were they going to survive it?

At some point, they were going to have to pick themselves up off this floor. They were going to have to put one foot in front of the other, go to work, pay their bills. They were going to have to keep breathing, keep living.

How they were going to do any of that, Carlisle had no idea.

A/N: My docs are full of rage, let me tell you. Thank you to Songster, jessypt, MoH, barburella, and Mina for all their help.

*hugs you all*