A/N: I don't own Twilight. So here is chapter 70 of Static. The number 70 makes me feel so accomplished... and also sad. My final fanfic is heading towards its end. However, I'm excited to share the rest with you guys. I know I've been updating rather rapidly, but here's the rundown of what's been going on recently in Static: Bella got pregnant, Quil killed Jasper (yes, Jasper as in the brother of Edward as in Bella's ex), and Embry confronted Quil about it.

This chapter also features a confrontation of sorts, as well as strong(er) language and mentions of rape and abuse.

Enjoy.

LXX.

and to think you would get me to the altar
like i'd follow you around like a dog that needs water

Even though the vernal equinox was the tipping point between winter and spring, Bella woke up that Thursday morning to subtle sunlight pouring through the cracks of her blinds. It made her feel like spring was really here, and she didn't hate it.

She checked her cell phone, charging on the floor next to her mattress. The alarm was supposed to go off in fifteen minutes, so she couldn't really fall back asleep, anyway. She decided that getting a head start before going to work wouldn't hurt, but when she looked at the patterns across her bare legs and the sliver of her stomach exposed, she just wanted to stay home. She didn't have any desire to do anything or go anywhere. She merely wanted to exist. And exist quietly, at that.

She looked over at the sleeping Paul, who existed beside her peacefully and completely unbothered by the sun. The guy slept like the dead in recent times. He worked overtime at the Thriftway, and then—much to Bella's dismay—he did work for the chop shop in Port Angeles at night. She'd told him to stop before he got caught, and he'd promised that he'd only keep doing it for a little while longer. He'd already sold his motorcycle, but they were still pretty tight on money. He kept his word more often than not now, so she'd believed him. She still believed him.

She looked down at the strip of her stomach that was exposed to the sunlight. She brought her hand down to it. She was about seven weeks along now, but she wished she could feel her bump already. That wouldn't be until early May, and she could certainly wait to start showing, but she also couldn't.

The little creature inside her just didn't feel real yet. He or she felt like a concept—a tactic to get Bella and Paul off their asses and stop making so many excuses. It had worked, but the fetus just didn't feel real yet. Maybe it would feel real once Bella started getting morning sickness, but she could certainly wait for all that. She briefly thought about throwing up at work and it made her want to throw up right now.

Her—their—little creature was growing, though, and she couldn't even feel it. She couldn't feel the heartbeat yet, but it was there, or at least in the making. It was a strange feeling to have—because of her job, she liked kids because she understood them better, but since she had found out she was pregnant, it had never occurred to her that she was truly growing a human. A human—half Bella, half Paul—was forming inside of her.

She thought about the conversation she'd had with Paul after that long, hard day of work when Little Bell had been taken away from Sunshine Childcare for good. Bella had tried to reason with the girl's mother, but it had amounted to nothing but senseless yelling. Even worse, it had been so evident that the girl had been abused. It sent a chill down Bella's spine to realize that the abuse probably hadn't stopped since then.

But what chilled her more than that was what Paul had told her. "You can't save every little kid."

The statement still rang true—she couldn't save every little kid within the forty hours a week she spent at the daycare. But she could truly protect her—their—child from the avoidable horrors of the real world from by building a safe environment at home. It was easier said than done, but Bella was a believer. And she certainly believed that in time, their house in La Push would truly be a home.

The sunlight finally got to Paul and he began to stir, his eyes fluttering open. He looked at Bella, noticed her hand on her stomach and smiled. It was a genuine, sleepy, true smile. He placed his hand on top of hers and then glanced at the digital clock on the other side of the room.

"I'm a minute early," he said quietly. Then he used both hands to rub his eyes and sat up.

"Hmm?"

The alarm clock blared from the other side of the room, and Paul got up to turn it off.

"Ah, shit," he said, pacing to the chair in the room in order to find his polo and smock for work at the Thriftway.

"What's up?" she asked, sitting up.

"I forgot I told my boss over at the store that I'd come in early today," he replied. "I start in ten minutes."

"It's fine," she said. "I'll take the bus."

"You sure you know which route it is?"

She just shrugged her shoulders. "It's just a bus," she said.

"Look, I promise I'll fix up your truck," he said. "My girl doesn't belong on the bus."

"You don't know how to fix up trucks," she reminded him. "You just know how to steal them."

He quickly changed clothes while she watched him, her head tilted. "I'll run it through with my boys at the garage," he told her.

"Oh, right, so the 'real' mechanic you were referring is over there?" she asked, quoting him.

"C'mon."

"You know I don't like you working with them," she said worriedly. "I'm trying to live as anti-sketchy as possible right now."

"Don't worry about it," he told her. "I got you. And it's only temporary."

"So you're sure they're not gonna sell my engine or something?" she asked.

Paul just laughed. "Baby girl, nobody wants your engine. They'll just check it out and see what they can do. If it's dead, it's dead. If it's not, you won't have to be on the bus anymore."

She smiled. "The bus never hurt anybody."

He buttoned up his pants and leaned down on the bed to kiss her. "You'd be surprised," he said softly. "Have a good day at work."

"You, too. Love you, baby."

"Love you more."

He left, and she laid back on the sheets, her hand on her stomach.

Even though the La Push-Forks bus system wasn't that confusing, Bella had found a way to mess it up. It was a good thing that she had left the house super-early. Forks had quite a few bus stops, so Bella had naturally found herself on the opposite side of town as the one where the daycare was.

Just my fucking luck, she thought.

She wasn't entirely lost; she just wasn't in the mood to walk. So because it was still early, she waited for a bus that would eventually take her in the right direction. According to the times posted at the bus stop, it was going to be a little while, but she wasn't going to freak out quite yet. The weak spring sun made her feel a little better; it was amazing to know that the quality of her mood seemed to depend on the weather.

While she was sitting at the bus stop, she got a call from a number that was familiar but not saved to her contacts. At first, she thought nothing of it but when she heard the voice on the line, she immediately regretted answering the phone in the first place.

"Bella," Edward Cullen said desperately, "You probably don't want to hear from me right now—"

She'd already had enough. "You're right."

"But my brother was murdered last night," he finished. "In Forks. At my parents' house."

His voice sounded baffled and absolutely heartbroken. It sounded like that of a stranger's—throaty and emotional and raw. It wasn't enough to draw sympathy from her, though, as heartless as that was. He was still an abuser. He was still a rapist. Nothing would make her look past that for as long as she lived.

"I'm sorry," she said dryly. "I haven't watched the news today yet."

"He was shot right on the front porch," Edward went on. "Could you at least try to sound like you care at all?"

"Edward, I haven't seen you in eight months," she told him. "And the last time I saw you, you knocked the living shit out of me, robbed me, and ran off. The time before that, you raped me." The words still didn't sound real out loud even though she had already told Paul. "We didn't end on good terms, and if you didn't know it then, then you do now."

"It was my brother," he said. "I just… I don't have anybody to talk to about it."

She rolled her eyes. "You've been living in New Hampshire for years now—I'm sure you have friends. And I'm sure the press will want to talk to you about it once it hits national news."

"I'm sorry," he told her as if it was supposed to make it all better. As if he hadn't fucked her over to the max.

"You're a fucking fool," she told him. "You think that just because you said sorry, I'm supposed to feel anything short of hatred for you? I'm sorry that you and your family are going through this tragedy, I really am, but I didn't know your brother and him dying doesn't suddenly make you into a decent person. I don't owe you a thing."

It was the bravest thing Bella had said in the last five years she'd known Edward.

And to think that this was the guy that she would have married. As if she would still follow him everywhere and anywhere, helpless and thirsty and weak. As if she would still believe him when he made her feel worthless, as if nobody cared about her.

If she had learned anything while being with Edward, it was that initial compatibility didn't always last. Or maybe she was just a better person than him. She would definitely like to think that.

The whiny, sad, heartbroken facade was gone now. "You're a cunt, you know that?" he asked her.

Oh, I'm definitely a better person than him.

"And you're a rapist. Goodbye, Edward." She unlocked her phone to hang up on him, but he stopped her.

"Wait, Bella."

"What?" she snapped.

"Somebody murdered my brother in Forks and you don't have any idea who it could possibly be?"

"What kind of question is that?" she replied incredulously. "I'm not friends with everybody in town; I just live here.

"But you fuck every guy in town who says one nice thing to you," he said, "so that's not very different."

"Fuck you." Then she hung up on him.

She sat at the bus stop quietly, but she felt her entire body pulsing with anger. She couldn't even get her thoughts together as she sat there, her foot shaking rapidly.

The weak spring sun beat down on her face, and she decided that not even the weather was enough to influence her mood. The equinox had come through and the tipping point had already swerved over, but spring would have to try a lot harder than this.

A/N: Next chapter is kind of big, so stay tuned.

Thanks as always,

HS