After closing his bedroom door, Edward took in a deep breath and instantly felt more relaxed and content. While he would have preferred to play the piano for a few hours, he really didn't want to spend more time in the presence of his siblings than he had to.

Instead, he dropped into his desk chair and started doing his homework with utmost diligence, hoping it would keep him busy for the rest of the day. But despite his attempt of spending as much time as possible on it, he eventually had to put his pencil down because there was nothing more he could add to his essay or his maths homework.

Looking around his room in search of something else to do, he grabbed a book from his shelf, slumped down on his bed and tried to pass his time reading, but ended up staring at the ceiling or gazing out of the window instead of focussing on the words written on the pages. While he did so, he noticed just how quiet it was in the house. Too quiet.

He wondered what was going on downstairs, but then decided against checking on his siblings to see what they were doing as he preferred to stay in here and enjoy the silence. If Em did something wrong, Rose could take care of it.

Rubbing his eyes, he let out a groan and put his book away.

Yes, he couldn't really concentrate on his novel anyways as he felt a sense of sadness engulf him. It had only been a few days, but he already missed his mother and father, even though he probably wouldn't admit it. He was already a grown man and was able to take care of himself after all. And Esme mothered him a bit too much at times, which tended to annoy him, but it was just her way of showing him how much she cared. Besides, he would take being smothered by her love over having to clean up after Emmett and Rosalie any day.

Maybe his parents would bring a gift for him - they sometimes brought little things from where they had been staying, like clothes, books or just a little souvenir, chosen exclusively for him. He knew they missed him too.

Roughly he was pulled from his thoughts by a loud thud and the sound of wood splintering. Snapping his head around to look at his room door, he was paralysed with horror when his gaze fell on the pointed end of a nail sticking out of his door. It had the perfect height to take someone's eye out.

For a moment he was just shocked and stared at it, before he eventually managed to snap out of his petrified state. He got up from his bed and hurried over to his door.

Why, he did not know, but he raised his right index finger and touched the tip of the nail like he needed to make sure that he wasn't just imagining it. It was real, absolutely, and he let out a silent groan as he placed his hand on the door handle. Pushing it down and opening the door, he only pulled it open wide enough to be able to check the other side.

No.

Please no.

Pinned to his door in a nice circle shape was Emmett's crushed little squirrel friend. If it hadn't been dead before, it definitely was now, because Em had driven a rusty nail through its head and tail to hang it up there.

Dead as a doornail.

Emmett was already half way down the hall again, but when he heard Edward's door open, he turned around. "I thought you wanted to keep him and so I hung him there for you," he told him and smiled.

It was an innocent smile like the one of a child that had meant well and hoped it would get praised for having done a marvellous job.

"Rosalie?!"

"Oh," Emmett said and held a hand up to stop him from calling her. "She said she didn't want to see Archie anymore."

Of course she didn't want to see it anymore, you buffoon, it's absolutely disgusting!

Pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger like his father always did when he was frustrated about one of them doing something that's considered stupid, he said in a forced calm voice, "Emmett, this is not a door wreath, but a squirrel... that happens to be dead."

"It could be both."

"Do you really think I want a dead, smelly squirrel on my door? Why in the world would I want that, huh?"

"Because it looks good," Emmett replied, shrugging his shoulders, before he turned around and walked down the hallway, humming a made-up toneless melody.

Aww... why me? Why does it always have to be me?

The expression of disgust on his face turned into one of self-pity, and slowly Edward reached his hand out to pick up the squirrel-wreath... but then halted as he realised that he didn't really want to touch it with his bare hands.

Besides, Rosalie was to blame for this, so she should be the one to clean it up. Too bad that she was ignoring him at the moment and he didn't want to wait until the squirrel smell would seep into the wood of his door and make it stink for all eternity.

In search of something that would help him keep his hands clean, he started looking around in the hallway and the rooms upstairs.

Bingo.

In the bathroom he found Rosalie's face cloth and it seemed to be the perfect implement for touching dead squirrels and throwing them out of the house.

He picked it up, wrinkling his nose a little as it smelled so much like Rosalie, but mixed with the stink of the decaying squirrel, it wasn't all that bad anymore.

Back in the hallway, he draped the towel over his right hand, then reached out and grabbed the animal while he pulled the nail out of his door with his left hand.

Admittedly, he was glad that they didn't need to worry about it causing damage in the house anymore, but he also felt a little sad that the tiny squirrel had such a tragic death even though he didn't really care about squirrels all that much. It was remarkable that it had lasted that long. Apparently Emmett was getting better at handling his supernatural strength - or this was just a super squirrel.

Taking a few steps, he opened the window and immediately flung the little ball of stink out into the world... and it ended up in a tree.

Edward scrunched up his face at seeing that it didn't really get very far, but then he just shrugged his shoulders.

Squirrels lived in trees... yes, that was good enough.

He closed the window again even though the hallway smelled of Archie, but he didn't want his siblings to grow suspicious and notice the new tree decoration in their front yard. With a satisfied nod, he made his way back to the bathroom and put the towel back where he found it.

After thoroughly washing his hands to get Rosalie's smell off his skin, he left the bathroom and wanted to re-enter his own room, but a whimper from downstairs made him stop and listen.

What now...

It sounded like Rosalie was frustrated that she wasn't as good at sewing as she had thought she was, or at least he hoped that that was the reason for her discontent.

He jumped down the stairs because he didn't want to miss the show, and when he found her in the living room, sitting in front of the sewing machine with a suffering look on her face, he grinned.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed him standing there, and so she queried, "What do you want?"

He shrugged his shoulders and approached her to see how she was doing. "Nothing. Oh, and thank you for watching your husband. He hung a dead squirrel on my door with the help of a very big nail that left a hole in the wood. I did not ask for a peephole in my door."

Rosalie didn't even lift her head as she muttered, "Then leave me alone."

Her tone of voice was not as aggressive as he would have anticipated. He had thought she would snap at him that Em hadn't done anything wrong, or that he should get rid of the animal and stop whining or whatever she usually yelled at him. No, she was obviously not feeling up to the task right now.

"Do you need some help?" Edward asked, genuinely willing to help her some so she could go back to watching Em.

She scowled at him with dark eyes. "No, I've got everything under control and I am more than capable of doing this."

He took a step closer to her and saw that she really wasn't doing so bad. She had already measured and cut the fabric into smaller pieces for making the new pillowcases. But what she was holding in her hand looked... odd.

With a snarky grin on his face, he asked, "Have you ever heard of a square angle, Rosalie?"

She whipped her head around, and if he wouldn't be standing so close to her, he might not even have heard the low growl emitting her throat.

"That isn't my fault. Emmett pulled at it while I was sewing, and then it slipped out of place."

"You shouldn't blame poor Emmett for your lack of-" "Leave. Me. Alone."

"And where did you sent your mate after he helped you with this?" he asked and motioned towards the atrocity in Rose's hands.

"He's cleaning up the kitchen cabinet."

And indeed, right at that moment the sound of a brush being dragged over wood sounded over to them, and Edward's jaw dropped. "Really?"

Emmett's cleaning up after himself? This is one for the books!

"Yes," she replied and nodded her head. "I told him to fill up a bucket with soap and water, then grab a brush and clean it up."

Edward couldn't believe that she had managed to get Em to fix something instead of just breaking and ruining things. And it had been so easy for her! No exhausting discussions, no yelling or threatening... just telling him what she wanted him to do. And then he went and did as he was told. Brilliant.

"Mind if I check on him?"

She just waved her hand to show him that she didn't care if he would, and she actually just wanted to be left alone while she tried to save this pillow case somehow. She didn't have enough fabric left to allow herself to make any mistakes and Edward really hoped she would succeed, because he knew that otherwise she would be tempted again to just steal whatever she needed.

While he left the room, he felt his curiosity peak. Would Emmett indeed manage to clean something without getting distracted and ending up making the damage worse? He hoped he would and judging by the sounds this was quite-

Oh no.

He ran into the kitchen, yelling at Em to stop what he was doing, but the newborn did not listen.

Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything anyways, because in a matter of seconds he had already managed to scrape off most of the paint off the cabinet door.

A wire brush.

Why, just why would he use a wire brush to clean something in this house?!

"I can do it, you don't need to help me," the newborn told him while continuing to drag the implement over the defenceless door.

Panic engulfed Edward as he watched him tightening his grip on it and making the wood crack in the upper corner. "Em, no! Stop!"

Sighing, Em replied, "I can do it myself, go."

"You're ruining it! Put the brush down!"

Emmett tzked, then turned his head to look at Edward. "I'm cleaning it," he clarified for him, sounding like he was a little annoyed that he didn't see it and was bothering him now.

"Emmett, I'm pretty sure Rosalie wanted you to clean the inside," he told him and pointed at the cabinet. "Because the inside is what's dirty. Your deceased pet has relieved itself in there."

"But first I'm doing the outside."

Pinching his eyes shut in exasperation, Edward let out a long drawn-out groan. "Go play, Em."

"No, I'm-"

"Go on. I know you'd prefer to play instead of cleaning something, am I right?"

"Cleaning isn't so bad," he said, but then thought about it for a moment. "Okay." With a huge grin on his face, he dropped the wire brush into the bucket, making the soapy water splash everywhere, before he got up from the floor and ran from the room.

Thank you, Rosalie... Thank you for not watching him and letting him ruin my door, thank you for sending him to the kitchen without keeping an eye on him and letting him ruin yet another door, thank you. Just... thank you.

Anger boiled in the pit of his stomach, and he couldn't keep the volley of profane language from leaving his lips right at that moment. How could they possibly hide the damage from their parents? They could have maybe succeeded in getting it clean and stink-free again, but now this cabinet looked so bad that it was impossible they wouldn't notice that something had happened to it. And what good would it do to still be trying to hide everything? Carlisle and Esme detested lying, and if they ever caught you in a lie, you were not just dead, no. You were even deader than the rotting squirrel that Emmett had kept in his pocket.

He stormed back into the living room and came to a halt next to his sister, his hands on his hips and his right foot tapping furiously on the ground. "I've had enough, Rosalie," he gritted out through clenched teeth. "This will stop now. Give me the telephone number of the lodge and I will call Carlisle and Esme and tell them to come back home now."

She let the fabric drop to the floor and got up from her chair. "What?" she gasped. "Don't you dare!"

"We cannot handle him on our own! How can you not see that?" he queried and threw his hands in the air in sheer frustration.

"Just let us fix up all the damage first, and then you can go ahead and ruin their anniversary," Rosalie tried to reason with him.

It was obvious how she wanted him to feel guilty once again, so he would continue to agree that they would and could repair whatever got damaged. No one wanted to force Carlisle and Esme to end their vacation early, and if he would call them, he'd be the one to blame.

But it wouldn't work anymore.

Coming home early wouldn't be as bad as not being able to recognise their own home anymore. He knew his parents after all.

And she was out of her mind if she really thought they'd still stand a chance against Em's destructive newborn behaviour.

"You must be joking! He's destroying things faster than we can fix them and I'm really tired of worrying about what he'll do next!"

"We're doing fine. What makes you think that Carlisle and Esme are so much better at keeping an eye on him and raising him?" She cocked one of her eyebrows while she folded her arms across her chest, giving him a challenging look.

Stupid Rose...

"Well, they have somehow managed to raise you," he countered, "so I do think they are more than just capable of-"

She scoffed. "I wasn't giving anyone trouble when I was his age."

Edward blinked at her in disbelief.

As a newborn, she was a pest... Emmett was accidentally destructive and obsessing over weird things, but she had been just a brat and a downright mean and cruel one at that. And she still was. But what good would it do to point out all the things she had done at that time? She'd just deny it which would be a stupid thing to do because he knew exactly what she'd been like...

"Your mate just scraped the paint off the door."

Her eyes widened in shock, but she quickly tried to hide it by looking away and shrugging her shoulders. "Then go and buy new paint," she told him and shook her head. "Don't act so daft. Even you could have figured that out."

"We still need to replace everything of Esme's that got soiled and ruined, oh, and Carlisle's books from the shelves as well. Then we are kind of lacking a carpet that could cover up that stain over there, and the way it's going, you won't have enough fabric left to get everything done you were planning," he said and glanced at the weird looking bundle on the floor. "Besides, there is a hole in our dining room wall, a hole that you punched in there and I don't know how you are going to fix that. Rose, we need to call them because we don't have enough money to replace even more of the things he - or you - will damage."

"Then go and sell something." She groaned and rolled her eyes like he was the stupid one here.

"Well, I'd like to sell you, but I'd probably have to pay them to-"

Shooting him a glare, she snapped, "Edward, stop bothering me, I'm busy."

"You don't even know what you're doing. That looks horrible."

Retaking her seat in front of the sewing machine, she bent down to pick up the hopefully soon-to-be pillow case and threatened, "You better leave me alone now or I will scratch your eyes out. Trust me, I'd do that."

He knew she'd do that, she had tried countless times already...

"Fine, but you better watch Emmett so he won't continue to pull the house apart."

She just motioned her hand like she wanted for him to leave, and so he eventually did.

But in the foyer he realised that basically nothing had changed. He had wanted to call their parents, but arguing with Rose had distracted him enough to forget what he had intended to do after he had seen Em's latest accomplishment.

Maybe he should hide when Carlisle and Esme would come home. Jump out of his window and run as far as his legs could carry him. A few days later, and he'd return. Esme would miss and worry about him, so she wouldn't even care what the house had looked like - she'd just be happy to see her oldest and smartest child again.

Carlisle however, wouldn't be too thrilled about his sudden disappearance, especially when they didn't know where he had been. Plus, if you're innocent, why run?

No, he needed to call them. He might be in trouble just like the others, but calling them would earn him some brownie points. Besides, their parents were already expecting some damage, he was sure of that. Emmett was destructive by nature, he couldn't help it, and making a newborn toe the line was more or less impossible.

But this experience had taught him something: He would make sure to never change someone... another newborn in the family and he'd move to the bottom of the sea.

"Rosalie," he called, "I am still waiting for that phone number!"

"Leave me alone!"

"I just want to tell them to come home a few days early, that would still give us a day or two to patch up the house..."

"No," she groused.

"Rose, you are not in charge here, I am!" he suddenly yelled, which only evoked an amused snort of laughter from her.

He stormed back into the living room, absolutely furious that she would dare to be so disrespectful and laugh at something he had said. He was stating the truth here - he was the only mature and responsible person in the house when their parents weren't home. "I am older and more experienced than you, which makes me the one in charge. You better do as I say and give me the phone number."

"Now don't embarrass yourself, you little schoolboy," she scoffed and rolled her eyes.

He didn't see it as she was focussing on her sewing, but he could practically hear her doing that and it angered him.

With the speed of a striking cobra, he jerked the fabric from her hands while she was running it through the machine. The seam got crooked.

"No!" she shouted angrily, but it also came out sounding a bit whiny.

Rosalie darted out of her chair and raised her hand to strike her brother, who quickly lifted his arm to shield his face.

As though she had anticipated that Edward wouldn't like to get slapped by her, she quickly stomped down on his foot, drawing a loud scream of pain from him.

"You ruined it!" she screamed while he let her work fall to the floor.

He grabbed his foot, his breath coming in short gasps as the pain pulsated up his leg and brought tears to his eyes.

"Aah, my foot!"

Rose was still fuming and growled while Edward stood there screaming and suffering, but they both quickly shut up and let out silent gasps when Emmett suddenly called from the front door 'Look what I have found!' at the same time as their telephone rang.

I know this is not my best chapter, but I didn't want to make you wait any longer. Hope that's okay ;)

I'll try to finish up the next chapter for ToC this weekend, and then we'll get back to newborn Em and see what he has found, yup. Good idea.

See you next time and thanks for reading!