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This book was automatically created by FLAG on December 6th, 2011, based on content retrieved from http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6603655/. The content in this book is copyrighted by TeamBella23 or their authorised agent(s). All rights are reserved except where explicitly stated otherwise. This story was first published on December 29th, 2010, and was last updated on October 6th, 2011. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated - please email any bugs, problems, feature requests etc. to flag@erayd.net.

Table of Contents
Summary 1. Chapter 1 2. Chapter 2 3. Chapter 3 4. Chapter 4 5. Chapter 5 6. Chapter 6 7. Chapter 7 8. Chapter 8 9. Chapter 9 10. Chapter 10 11. Chapter 11 12. Chapter 12 13. Chapter 13 14. Epilogue

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Summary
"My life is a circus run by drooling babies, crying, and sex with Smella. But do you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way." A Closer/ California Waiting novella. AH/AU rated M

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Chapter 1
I do not own Twilight: I only make it badass. Characters belong to S. Meyer, which is a complete shame. Setting, plot, characteristics and history are mine. Please do not use without my permission. Crawl is fictional; if you were easily offended by Closer and California Waiting then this story is not for you. Please remember, this is only a story and any resemblance to true life is coincidence only. *Blows dust off of Fuckward and Smella* *Hits them in the back of the head and tells them to get the fuck up* *Laughs evilly at evil creations* I have a few things to say before I start: First, if you haven't read the Goochie outtake I suggest that you do. Second, at first, I really didn't want to do this. Not at all. I was over the characters, I felt that they had run their course and after the last chapter of CW posted and a lot of you yelled at me, I was convinced I wouldn't do it. Somewhere along the line, I changed my mind. I give you no promises; I'm doing this my way and my way only. Fuckward and Smella will not be the perfect parents. They will mess up and they will OFFEND you. I've said this a million times, but you either love this Edward or you hate him. I've gotten some feedback about him from new readers, they have called him immoral, gross abusive and mean. People have called their relationship pathetic and disgusting. I give you no apologies. I love these two from the bottom of my fucking heart and for those of you who feel the same; this is for you. Everyone else can kiss my ass. Lastly, this is it. After this, there won't be another installment. I'm tightening up all of the loose ends and saying goodbye for good. I
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understand the need to see what happens to these two, and it's my honor to be writing this for all of you. So here we go . I give you Crawl. Jaime, you ended CW with me and now we start this one from the beginning. I love you with every fiber of my being. Thank you for all that you do. Unfie, welcome to my world of Fuckward. Don't fall in love with him like Jaime did. He is a fucktard. Crawl Chapter 1 EPOV Seattle (Flashback) "You're drunk," I whisper, pulling off her shoes. Bella is crying, sobbing. "Why do you always have to ruin everything?" Placing her shoes on the floor, I move away from the bed and close her door. After locking it, I place my forehead against the cold wood. Listening to her cry, listening to Bella scream she curses my name and spews words of hate and loathing. "I'm not yours, Edward. Do you hear me? I'm not fucking yours!" She kicks her feet and pounds her fists into her mattress. My own hands are fisting at my sides. "You wanted me to leave you there? With him?" I ask, trying to keep my cool. "Why do you even care?" Bella screams, agony in her cries. "Your grip on me is so fucking tight, I can't breathe. I can't breathe, Edward!" I begin to hit my forehead on the wood, trying so fucking hard not to yell. "Baby, you need to keep it down."
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Bella throws a shoe at me. It hits me in the back, she screams for me to get out of her room. She hopes her brother hears; she wants me gone. Bella throws the picture of her and me that is sitting next to her bed, it hits the door next to my head. I've officially lost my cool. Bringing my fist back, I punch her door. Over and over until my knuckles are bleeding and I am speaking words I don't understand. Bella screams loudly, I continue to punch. When my fist goes through the door, I face her. "You would rather have stayed there?" I ask, hysteria in my tone. I drop to my knees beside her bed, gripping her arm. "You wanted to be there, with him letting him touch you. That is what you wanted?" Bella tries to pull her arm free, hitting me in my shoulder and chest. "Let go." She sobs. Her resistance only causes me to grip tighter, to pull harder. This fighting and constant conflict has become our friendship. I feel like I'm losing her, that she is slipping between my fingers, spending less time with me and more time with Eric Yorkie. Our family says it's a good idea. They say we need distance and they say we need some time apart. Alice tells me that friendship isn't supposed to be this hard, friendships are supposed to be easy and fair. I stand up, angry and hurt, Bella tries to kick me but I dodge her foot. I grab her by her face, hand clutched under her chin. "Stop," I growl, forcing her to look at me. Bella swings, hitting me in the side of my head. Bella pulls, hair coming lose in her hand. Bella screams, piercing my ears. None of this would be happening if I didn't go get her; if I would have let her stay with him. Everyone is good about keeping Bella's whereabouts from me on the days where she purposely ignores my calls, or isn't home when I go to find her. Emmett slipped. I'm unsure why I care as much as I do; Bella has devoured and turned my life
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inside out. I was empty before her, I'm miserable with her I can't be without her. "You're such a hypocrite," Bella groans, pulling on the neck of my shirt until it stretches and rips. "I don't even like you, you make me sick. I hate you, I fucking hate you!" All words I've heard before. She doesn't mean them, neither one of us do. This is a sick, twisted game we refuse to stop playing. A year and a half into the most significant relationship with another person I have ever had, and this is what we do. We hurt. I will never stop loving her, even if I have to settle for this type of love. "You hate me?" I laugh sadistically, squeezing her face in my hand. "You hate me but you want him?" "It was only dinner, Edward." Bella calms down still holding onto my shirt but no longer fighting me. "Open the fucking door." Emmett's voice echoes from behind the locked bedroom door. My grip loosens on Bella's face; she looksme in the eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. Bella clears her throat, eyes shifting towards the door. "We're fine, Emmy." "Don't fuck with me, Bella, open the fucking door," he answers. I let go of Bella's face, motioning towards the door. Bella catches me by my shirt; pulling me down onto the bed. With her pointer finger on her lips, she asks me to stay and be quiet. She touches my face, kisses my jaw. "Emmett, I'm fine," she calls out again, tears still falling from her eyes. My nose is in her hair, arms surrounding her body. Bella cries into my chest, pulling me on top of her. "I'm sorry," she whispers, laying her head onto her pillow. "Lay with me, please?" My eyes water, hating the way I treat her. It is brutal; there is no denying the
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relationship that Bella and I share is abusive, dependent and unsafe. We are bad together, better off not being friends. Believe it or not, that is all we are friends. "Fuck." I breathe, panicked. "I'm so fucking sorry. Did I hurt you?" "Shhhh" Bella points to the door, bringing me down beside her, "just sleep." Face to face, Bella and I lay in bed. We don't speak or sleep, but we touch. Her fingers glide through my hair and I touch her face. Our legs are tangled and laced. Emmett eventually gave up and left once things settled down in her room. "I'm sorry I ruined your dinner." I lie; I don't give a fuck about her dinner. Bella smiles, eyes still red. "Liar." "One day, when we're married and have kids, you'll thank me for smashing Eric's face into his fucking spaghetti." I laugh, laughing always works. Bella laughs aloud. "Oh, really?" "Don't doubt me, Smella, you're mine." I slide my arm under her back, bringing her head to my chest. "We're not even good as friends, we could never be married. We would fuck our kids up beyond repair." "That only makes us normal, Baby." I kiss the top of her head. "There is no such thing as a perfect family we're all a little fucked up." Present Time "You better learn to crawl." I'm on my hands and knees in front of Gunner. "You better learn to crawl before I walk away." I stand, pretending to move away, my five-month-old son rocks back and forth. He slobbers and he laughs, his mohawk falling to the side. Gunner has been able to get up onto his hands and knees all week. He has the motions locked; he just isn't able to coordinate his hands and his knees. We're practicing.
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He rolls; rolls all over the fucking place. Gunner rolls into the wall, under the table and off the couch. I felt so bad the first time he did it. Bella was making dinner, Gunner and I were watching The Ultimate Fighter, I got up to get a beer and forgot that the baby knew how to roll. He smashed his face on the hardwood floor and busted his lip. He looked badass with his mohawk and a busted lip, though. All the ladies love him. He is so fucking cute. I knew Bella and I would make beautiful children but Gunner blew past my expectations. A lot of Bella and a sprinkle of me, gives us Gunner Crew. Now we have another one on the way. Bella becoming pregnant again so soon after the boy was not our intention. I should have predicted it, I should have known better. Bella jumps my bones every chance she gets, fucking fiend. Most women lose their libido after childbirth, not my girl. It has the reverse effects on her. She can't get enough of my man salsa. Preston didn't mind at first. Scarlett is his soul mate, but she is a needy bitch and sometimes I have to put the closed sign on my peen. 'Out of Commission' or 'Get off my Dick.' She didn't even wait the entire six weeks after Gunner was born before she tried to get me to stick my P in her V. She didn't even wait two weeks, she was relentless and it was torture. I'm down for her huge titties, leaks and all. I love the way her hips widened and her stretch marks are fucking amazing. Telling Bella that I couldn't have sex with her was agonizing. She did let me titty fuck her though, and that was awesome. I was able to beat her away for another two weeks before I finally gave in and stuck it to her. I stuck it to her a couple more times that day, and a few times the next. I love her new squishy body, Bella isn't fat but she isn't nearly as skinny as she used to be. Her thighs jiggle when I'm in her. Her tits bounce and her stomach is soft. And because she went from - being hormonal because she was pregnant, to hormonal because she just gave birth, right back to being hormonal because she is pregnant again -telling Smella that I don't want to have sex because she has run my dick dry doesn't always work out so well.
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Fucking, fuck you hormones! My life is a circus run by drooling babies, crying, and sex with Smella. But you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. My wife loves me and my kid is all kinds of badass. Work is whatever, I do it and it is cool. My parents and I are on good terms, and Alice and Jasper are doing well. Emmett and Angela are a completely different story. Rosalie is still with Garrett but that is on a road headed to fucking nowhere. Harlie is getting big, such a pretty girl. Bella's little brother, Jack, is supposed to be visiting this summer. She talks to him on the phone once or twice a week. The progress with their relationship is slow but moving along. Renee is still a bitch, banned from my house and our lives. Bella hasn't said more than two words to her since the last time they spoke. She isn't ready to forgive; I wouldn't care if she never does. Gabe and Ester are still living on the other side of town. Same shitdifferent day. We all miss Nate, but not even the death of his brother would stop him from living the only life he knows. I'm not so quick to drive my wife and kid to East L.A., but I do if the occasion calls for it. This is me, and this is my life. White male, late twenties married with children. Who the fuck would have thought? "Edward, I think something is wrong with the G-wagon." Bella walks through the front door, bags of groceries in her hands. Her hair is windblown, and her sunglasses are falling down her nose. She drops the bags and crawls onto the floor with Gunner and me. "Hi." She kisses my lips, encouraging Gunner to move. Gunner loses interest, sits up, and falls to the side. He sticks a foot in his mouth and forgets that we're even around. I stand to my feet, helping Bella up. "What did you do?" I smirk, pushing the stray hairs away from her face. "I" she says, pointing to herself,"didn't do anything. I was driving, maybe I hit a pothole but that shouldn't make the engine light come on." I slip my feet into my Chucks, grabbing my pack of cigarettes off the counter.
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Bella carries the groceries to the kitchen; Gunner is still sucking baby toes on the floor. "We need to get rid of it, Baby," I say, placing a cigarette between my lips. I've tried talking to her about trading the G-wagon in for another car for over a month but she has some weird bond with the fucking thing. We have insurance; I should just crash and burn the motherfucker. I can always pay Gabe to steal it, that's always an option. "You shut your mouth when you're talking about my G-wagon." Bella giggles, picking the kid off the floor and setting him into his high chair. I laugh her off, going out front to smoke a cig and inspect the damage. "Bella, what the fuck?" I ask, taking a huge fucking hit from my much needed nicotine stick. "What?" she whines. Bending down in front of her SUV, I can see that she hit a pothole, what she left out is the part where she must have a hit a fucking tree right after. The front bumper is gone and the tire is going flat. The left fender is missing and her side mirror is hanging on by a wire. I pull the mirror off and throw it behind me. "Oh, I was going to tell you." Bella laughs, walking towards the back of her car. "When I hit the pothole, I got scared and hit another car." Deep, deep inhales of poisonous nicotine. Counting to ten and saying pleasant things inside of my head. "But don't worry; the other car was totally cool about it. We exchanged information and all is taken care of." She walks past me with another hand full of grocery bags. "Why didn't you call me, Bella?" I kick her flat tire. "Because, I didn't want you to worry," she says, like it's so simple. I flick the butt of my cigarette out into the street and pick up the side mirror I
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threw into the middle of the front lawn. Back inside of the house, Bella is putting food away and Gunner has fallen asleep in his high chair. I place the broken mirror on the kitchen counter and try to remind myself that it was only an accident. She ran into a pothole, swerved onto the other side of the road and smashed into another car on accident. "Bella, this is not fucking ok." She closes the refrigerator door; I can see it coming on before I hear anything. Bella looks up at me, chin quivering. "I didn't hit it hard." "What did you hit, Baby? You're pregnant for fucks sake." Bella starts to cry, "A garbage truck." "You hit a fucking garbage truck and didn't see the need in calling me?" I try to keep it down, Goochie is sleeping but she has to be fucking joking. "It was just a tap." Bella slams the refrigerator door closed. The dogs start to bark, Gooch starts to cry. Bella moves past me, her small baby bump brushing against my hand. Three months pregnant and she is already a fucking mess. Good thing she is pretty and I love her more than I could ever put into words. Good thing she is the mother of my Gooch and the mother of my un-born baby. Good thing I would die if she wasn't around, and it's a good fucking thing Bella is my soul mate because if it wasn't for all of these 'Good Things,' I would leave her ass. "Your car is smashed, Bella. That is not a fucking tap." I pull Gunner out of his high chair. "And call the fucking doctor." I mumble an apology to the kid. His first word is going to be fuck; there is no way around it. Bella goes to our room; I make Gunner a bottle and put him down for a nap. While my family is sleeping, I call the insurance company and arrange for them to come out and look at Bella's Mercedes. They can't make it out for another couple of days; I can drive the Lincoln, she can have the Rover until we figure this out. The house is quiet; late August and the air is still warm. The sun is setting,
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purples and pinks coming through the kitchen window. I'm tired, no fucking doubt about that. This entire 'American Dream' bullshit, ages a motherfucker. I thought I saw a gray hair the other day; luckily, it was only a string from my shirt. Scared the fuck out of me. I'm almost thirty years old, and Bella isn't getting any younger. When you're young, reckless, stupid and self-centered the way Bella and I were, you don't ever think you're going to get old. Thirty is still relatively young, I feel young but something about thirty seems so final. Add a kid and a pregnant wife on top of that, and I'm almost middle aged. Emmett embraced turning thirty; the oldest out of all of us, he threw a huge party and got drunk before throwing up on Garrett's shoes. He is making up for having to grow up so early. After his mother left, Emmett, was left with a lot more responsibility than is normal for an eleven year old. After Charlie passed away, he had no other choice but to become Bella's provider. He had to skip college, get a job pay bills, and deal with his unstable sister and her rocky best friend. Not to mention all of the extra emotional fuckery that comes along with a sister who was raised by a couple of dudes. I think he is making up for missed time. His marriage with Angela is on the rocks and he parties a lot. Emmett makes a great cop and a better brother and father, but in the husband department, he is a fail. While I complain about becoming old, Emmett isn't growing up. As I pick up baby toys and other loose ends off the living room floor, I think about how grateful I am for everything have. Bella and I made some stupid fucking choices, and we are nowhere near normal or better. We still fight, and sometimes we fall back into old patterns, but it's not like it used to be. I don't usually like to think about our past. It is scary and it was all so fucking unnecessary. We were young and immature and we're lucky our family wants to have anything to do with us. My sister still holds a grudge; she even refuses to plan another wedding to make up for the one I fucked up with my little stunt. Alice will not come out and say she is mad about it, but I can see that she is. She loves Gunner and she loves Bella and me but there is an obvious hostility. She gets pissed if anyone brings it up, doesn't accept any of my apologies and denies that any
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of it even happened. Jasper tells me not to worry about it, that she really isn't as bothered as I might think she is, but I hurt Alice deeply by not only ruining her wedding day but also attempting what I attempted in general. Call her a hypocrite, but it is what it is. In June, Bella and I celebrated our one-year wedding anniversary. Everyone had a fucking opinion. My mom cried because she wasn't there when it happened. She wants us to get re-married, and that revelation caused a huge argument between my mother, sister and I. My dad wasn't impressed, he's happy that Bella and I made it through an entire year legally bound, but he is disappointed that we got married without our family around to witness. He is still an intolerant asshole. 'Do it for Gunner,' is their excuse. They guilt trip and they bother and my sister's silence and stupid scoffs are enough to drive me insane. No matter how many times I apologize for what happened, she won't forgive me, even if she insists otherwise. Things between my dad and I are better. We speak a couple of times a week and have plans on getting together for the holidays. He has taken a few steps back, respecting that I am a man with my own family and my own career, but every once in a while he gives me a piece of his fucking mind. And every once and a while I tell him to back the fuck off. His new deal is getting Bella, Gunner and I to move back to Washington. I understand that he wants to be close to his grandchild, Gunner is cool as fuck, and everyone wants to be around him. I'm just not willing to up and move my family. Every time I talk to him, he drops hints about a position open at his hospital. He talks about how good the schools are in the Seattle area, how good the neighborhoods are. I love the man but he gets on my fucking nerves. When the living room is clean, the house is still quiet and the sun is almost set. I grab a beer out of the fridge and go into the backyard. I let the dogs out of their kennels so they can run around a little. They've both been to obedience school; after Goochie was born, we knew Nancy's jumping was going to be a problem.
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I love and trust our dogs, they were our first babies, but I love my kid more and don't ever want to get rid of Sid and Nancy because they can't stop jumping. Bella and I are good about controlling them; they stay in their kennels unless we are outside to watch them and if we ever take them for a walk, leashes are always included. Pit-bulls make people nervous, but my babies are good. I sit back in a lawn chair, drinking my beer. Sid lays his head in my lap, I scratch behind his ear. His attention shifts to something behind me. That something turns out to be Smella. She stands at the back door in a pair of my boxers hanging low on her hips, a black tank top and bare feet. Her hair is messy and her face is sleepy. I pat my lap and she comes to me. Her feet come up, putting herself into a little ball in my lap. She has morning breath and chipped nail polish; she is beautiful. "Sorry, I crashed the car," Bella whispers, wiping her eyes. I kiss her forehead, taking another swig of my beer. "Baby, I don't give a fuck about the car. I was more worried about you." "I know, but it wasn't as bad as it looks." She stretches her legs, spreading her toes before turning back into a ball. I rub Bella's tummy, finishing my beer. "When is your next doctor appointment?" "Tomorrow." "I have to work tomorrow, but you need to tell Tyler about your accident." Tyler, Dr. Hawkins; that motherfucker, Bella insisted on using him as her OBGyn again. She tells me that I'm jealous of him, that I'm insecure because he has fuckawesome hair like me. My hair is way better. He is a goofy son of a bitch, who likes to stare at my wife's vagina and makes faces at me while he does it. We're kind of friends.
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We sort of became friends. Good friends. He's number seven on my speed dial. I hate him. "Why don't you tell him, he's your boyfriend?" Bella giggles, kissing my face. She likes my friendship with Tyler, he is an outsider and wasn't around while Bella and I were at our worst. He doesn't know more than what I've told him, which is almost everything, but he doesn't judge. There are no hard feelings about fucked up weddings and suicide attempts. He never dated my girl, and he doesn't tell me how to live my life. He's Switzerland. I give Bella a dirty look, and tell her to shut up. She laughs and asks me where the baby is. I tell her that he's sleeping and am about to explain to her about how close to crawling he is, when the back door opens and her brother announces his presence. "Where is my niece?" I ask, taking the beer he brought out for me. "Home with her mother." I nod. "Then go home." Emmett pulls out a chair, still in his blues from work. It is not very often that Emmett ever lets anything bother him. He isn't easily made angry and never lashes out at anyone. He goes with the flow, deals with the shit that is thrown at him and moves along. This is different. He drinks his beer, normal smile wavering. He reaches forward to kiss Bella on her cheek, rubs her stomach and sighs. "I picked you up some coleslaw on my way over, Sissy," he tells her, trying to look happy.
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Wrong move. Bella's hand flies, covering her mouth. "Oh my shit," she mumbles before jumping off my lap and running into the house. Emmett looks confused, I shake my head and say, "Dude, coleslaw is the fucking enemy." "Since when?" He throws his hands up, tone shocked. "I don't know, Bro. This time around is a lot different than the first." I listen for Bella, but don't hear anything. "The morning sickness is bad. Tyler said that it should pass soon but she can't eat anything; especially coleslaw." "No fucking coleslaw?" he asks again, just to make sure. I shrug. "I know. Trust, no one was more surprised than I was. I bought her some; she took a bite and puked all over the fucking kitchen." As much as I'm sure Emmett is enjoying this conversation about my girl and her anti-coleslaw campaign, I know something is up. After an awkward silence, Emmett's face returns to it previous blank stare. I light a cigarette, hand it over and light another. "What going on?" I ask concerned. "I need to crash here for a couple of days, just until me and Angie can work a couple of things out." He looks genuinely upset, their marriage their entire relationship, has been odd since the beginning. I know they tried to work it out so it was as simple as possible but they were fucked from the beginning. Rosalie faked a friendship with Angela in the start, which ended as soon as Harlie was born. Maybe even before that, she was a mess at the wedding. She stood back and watched the father of her unborn baby get married to another woman. Rosalie is better than I am, I wouldn't have been able to do it. I don't like to judge, and really it is none of my fucking business but Emmett has a child with Rosalie, that has to mean something. I don't think they put enough effort into making their relationship work. Angela is a nice girl, but sometimes you're not meant to be with a person and I don't think Emmett was meant for her, he was
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meant for Rosalie. "You know you can stay here, Em," I offer, unsure on how to handle this. "What happened?" He laughs. "Fuck if I know, I came home and Angela had my bag packed. She said I couldn't come home until I decided to be dedicated to her." He takes another drink from his beer. "I'm dedicated, but I have a kid with Rosie and that's not something I can ignore." He is wrong, completely, utterly and stupidly fucking wrong. Another man is raising his daughter, while he's here trying to work out a marriage that was fucked from the start. I don't think Emmett realized the severity of his decisions until Rosalie attempted to move on too. He can't stand her with Garrett; he tried and failed, hard. "What are you going to do?" "I don't know," he says in a low, defeated tone. "I thought I married Angela for all the right reasons. I love her." he trails off. "Edward, can you help me?" Bella appears in the doorway, holding the baby and looking a little green. "Yeah, Baby." I set my beer down, pat Emmett's shoulder and go to my family. Goochie reaches out for me, Bella falls into my chest. This is my life, puke and diapers. I fucking love it. I want to be around for Emmett, he shouldn't have to deal with this shit alone. With the exception of one time, he has always there for me. Not always agreeing with the choices Bella and I made, but never turning his back on us. I know he is confused and hurt, watching him sitting in a chair in my backyard alone sucks. His shoulders are slumped and his head is down. He fucked up, now he needs to fix this mess. And like I said, I want to be around for him to lean on but I have a sick pregnant wife and a crying baby, he has to wait. Bella cries and moans on the couch while I feed Goochie some food. He spits carrots in my face and smears rice cereal in his hair. Emmett eventually comes
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inside and helps me out with the kid but is useless and ends up eating most of Gunners carrots. He swears they taste the same as the real deal. After a bath I try to put the baby to bed, he wants to play and when I don't play back he cries. I'm determined to leave his room so he can cry it out but then I feel bad. I try rocking him in his chair, and feeding him a bottle but nothing works. I put him on the floor; he plays with his toys for a while. Bella is still puking her guts out in the bathroom, I want to hold her hair back and shit but the kid won't sleep. He rolls all over the fucking place, spits up and needs to be changed. He even tries to trick me by pretending to crawl again when I get excited and think he is actually going to do it; he sits up and falls back. His head knocks on the wall and he starts to cry again. Now Gunner is crying, Bella is puking and Emmett can't find the fucking remote to the TV. "I don't know where the fucking remote is, Emmett, do I look like the remote control police?" I spit, trying to rock Gunner to sleep. "Sorry," he whispers, stepping into Gunner's room and closing the door behind him. "You're doing it all wrong," Emmett whispers again, but he sucks at whispering and Gunner's head shoots up from my chest at the sound of his uncle's voice. "What? I'm not doing anything wrong." "Yeah, you are. You're supposed to pat his butt and move your arms up and down." Emmett holds his arms open. "Let me try." "No, you suck at this." I try patting his butt and moving my arms up and down. It doesn't work, Gooch wants Emmett. So I hand him over, Emmett turns his back on me like I'm the fucking intruder or something. He hums and whispers that I suck and that is ok because I will learn. "You've been a dad five minutes longer than I have, Em," I grumble, sitting in Gunners rocking chair. Emmett looks over his shoulder; his usual smile is back. "That makes me five
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minutes better. Five more minutes of experience that I will always have over you." There is something about the smell of a baby that automatically makes a person feel tired. Babies smell so clean, soft and small. When I know I'm going to have a long shift at work, I'll take Gunners lotion and take it to the hospital with me or I'll use it after I get out of the shower. In his room, rocking in his chair, I am surrounded by his smell. It is calming and reassuring; it affects me a lot like the way Bella's smell does. They smell like home, like love. My eyes begin to drift closed, Emmett continues to rock Goochie to sleep. I rub my hands up and down my face, remembering that I still have a sick wife to take care of. "Dude, I can handle this," Emmett whispers, showing me that Gunner is almost asleep. "Are you sure?" I stand and stretch. "Yes," Emmett takes a seat in Gunners chair. "Bella had her face in the toilet bowl when I came up here." I nod, kissing Gunners head and thanking Emmett. I quietly open Gooch's bedroom door and gently close it. I stand by and listen, waiting to see if the baby cries after I've left the room but I don't hear anything with the exception of the rocking chair rocking back and forth. Across the hallway, my bedroom door is closed. A light shines from beneath the door; I can hear Bella dry heaving in the bathroom. This is her nightly ritual; Tyler said it is normal. Just because Bella had, little to no sickness during her first pregnancy doesn't mean she wouldn't have any in her second. Unfortunately, Bella is plagued with it. Without fail, around five in the evening Bella is hit with nausea. Worse than the average case, Bella has been this way since she found out she was pregnant. She can eat in the mornings but her appetite wanes during the afternoon and it becomes impossible for her to eat anything during the night. This will pass, it can easily last through her second trimester, but eventually it will go away. "Baby, can I come in?" I knock on the bathroom door, offering her privacy if she wants it.
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"It's unlocked," she groans. On the bathroom floor, face laid flat on the toilet seat, is my Bella. Her hair is sticky, and her eyes are puffy and red. Bella's legs are at her side, arms hugging the toilet. I bend down beside her, moving the hair away from her face and flushing the water. "Do you want to take a shower?" I ask. "I don't know if I can move away from this spot." Her stomach heaves again. Bella gags but nothing comes out. I wipe away the slight sheen from her forehead and move over to the shower to turn on the water. When the water warms, I pick Bella up from the floor and help her take off her clothes. She smells like puke and her hair is disgusting. Bella starts to cry and accuses me of thinking that she is ugly. Her tits are engorged, not only from being pregnant but also from breast-feeding Gunner. Bella's stomach is swollen, our baby beginning to show itself. Her eyes are tired and her skin is pale none of this would ever cause me to think she's ugly. No fucking way. "You're fucking gorgeous, Baby." I pull her panties down her legs, waiting at her feet for her to step out of them. "Ha! You're such a liar." She points at her changing figure. "This this is not gorgeous. This is stretched and swollen and ugly." I've learned when and when not to call her, 'Smella.' At times like this, times when she actually fucking smells and knows it, I do not dare. Even if I really fucking want to. Whispering in her ear, grabbing her huge titty, "Bella, you're fucking beautiful." Bella smacks my hand, pushes me away and gets into the shower. She gags and curses my name. "Fuck off, Fuckward, you're so insensitive." I've also learned when and when not to take her outbursts seriously. At times like this, times when she smells and is emotionally unstable, is not a time to take her seriously.
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"What did I do?" I strip out of my clothes and step into the shower. "You're making fun of me." Bella stands under the hot water, looking miserable. I pull her against me, allowing her to lean most of her weight on me. The water washes away all of her dirt, until her skin is soft. After I let her soak, I wash her hair and her body. We do our best to get her teeth brushed; the toothpaste makes her gag, but after a few attempts, her teeth are clean. Bella feels better after her shower. Without brushing her hair or getting dressed, she gets straight into bed. She crawls into a ball; knees as close to her chest as she can get them and her chin down. I get into bed behind her; kiss her face and rub her back. I watch Conan and George Lopez while she snores. Bella rolls all over the place as she is finding it hard to get comfortable. I fall asleep but Gunner starts to cry and before I have a chance to get out of bed, I hear Emmett's voice. He tells me he has everything under control and to go back to sleep. I don't think he ever left Gunner's room. Bella eventually wakes up, Gunner is still crying through the monitor but Emmett is there with him. Bella doesn't know this, she is in a daze; sitting up, naked and crazy. She throws the blankets off her body and tries to get out of bed. Her hair is insane, tangled and messy and her eyes are closed but she goes through the motions. "Baby, Emmett has him." I pull her back into bed. "What? Why?" She is looking for clothes, still half-asleep. "Just lay down." I smile. She does, and she snores loudly. I close my eyes, content and happy. My wife is snoring in my ear and my baby is crying with his uncle in the monitor. My dick actually got a rest today and tomorrow Gunner will crawl. I'll make fucking sure he does. All is good in Casa de Cullen all is fucking good. That is until I feel a small little hand creep its way over to my side of the bed and
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wrap itself around my Preston. "Edward," Bella purrs. I didn't even hear her stop snoring! AN: So, there you have it. The chapter is a little bit slow and a little bit calm but you know me. I laid down some foundation and now I get to build a solid structure and fill it with fuckery Closerward style. Aha Shake and McFearless are my priorities at the moment. I will update Crawl between those updates about every other week or so. Gawd, do you remember when I used to update close two or three times a week? Yeah, fuck that. I also remember Closer being all kind of fucked up (Grammar and punctuation) Anyways, I hope I delivered what you expected. You wouldn't believe the type of pressure there is when it comes to Closer, California Waiting and now Crawl. You guys are nothing less than passionate about these characters. It is unlike anything I have experienced with my other fics. Long live Closerward. (what have I done!) Lol, TB23

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Chapter 2
I do not own Twilight: I only make it badass. Characters belong to S. Meyer, which is a complete shame. Setting, plot, characteristics and history are mine. Please do not use without my permission. Crawl is fictional; if you are easily offended by mini vans, Alice, Closerward or Smella then this story is not for you. Please remember, this is only a story and any resemblance to true life is coincidence only. Although, if I were her, I would do the same thing. So, I take it that you guys missed Fuckward? I guess I kind of missed him too; he makes it hard not to miss his stupid ass. (Here I am, talking about him likes he's real.) I'm glad you all got a kick out of my Authors Note, I meant every word of it. I have been a part of this fandom for about two years now. I've written for more than half of that, and in my experience as a fan fiction writer I have experienced every type of emotion there is to experience. I have to remind myself that this isn't real - this is a hobby- but sometimes the shit that people say to me gets under my skin. But there is a lot of good. There is so much more good than there is bad, and that is why I am continuing this. Everyone else can still kiss my ass. Jaime, (round of applause for Jaime) She recently won the Best New Author Award in the Avant Garde Awards and she also collaborated with phoebespromise to win in The A Christmas to Remember contest, for a story called Willow. (pretty please check it out! xo jaime) Congrats Jaime, I knew you would be great at this. Unfie, you have been more help than you will ever know. Thank you for taking the time in helping me. Filia, who only eats fish and chicken, I love you incredibly hard. Crawl
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Chapter 2 BPOV My body is no longer my own. I never imagined pregnancy being so exhausting and suffocating. My pregnancy with Gunner was easy, but this time around, I feel like I am literally dying. I'm sick all of the time, my vagina can't get enough Preston, and Gunner always needs me. Which is fine, I love my baby more than words can explain it's just that he never shuts off. He always needs something. I'm not complaining, no freakin' way. I wouldn't trade Goochie for anything in the world. He is my pride and joy, my reason for living, and the only person I would willingly die for. But sometimes, sometimes I wish he would just sleep all day. It's easier when Edward is home. He helps a lot. Not so great at changing diapers, but he can give a mean bath. Every evening, when five o'clock rolls around, Edward knows I am not good at anything more than spilling my guts. He feeds, bathes, and lays Gunner to sleep before pulling my head out of the toilet and cleaning me up. If I'm lucky I'll coerce him into giving me some after I've showered all of the puke out of my hair and then we'll go to bed. But that's only when he's home. On the nights when he works, I'm on my own. I bottle feed Gunny sometimes, but I like to breastfeed. So, when I'm not feeling well because of morning sickness, and the baby decides he wants to cry it's a struggle to keep myself together. I feel like I am being pulled in every direction, and I'm just so tired but I wouldn't have it any other way. My boobs may leak profusely, my unborn baby may be sucking me dry, and my hoo ha may have forgotten how to turn off, but I love this life. There is nothing more rewarding than looking at Goochie, knowing that all of our brutal pain and suffering led to him being born. Dirty diapers and all. He completes us. I just wish he would feed himself and use the potty already.
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"Smella, Baby," Edward whispers into my ear. I'm still in bed and naked, waking up from the best sleep I have had in the last few months. My brother stayed over, he got up with Gooch during the night; it is a gift better than gold. "I'm awake," I mumble, turning over to face my gorgeous husband. Edward's hand glides beneath the blanket, rubbing over my swollen tummy. "How do you feel? I have to work but I can call in." I open my eyes, covering my mouth so he doesn't have to smell my morning breathe. "It's fine, where's Goochie?" "Sleeping." Edward kisses my forehead, pinches my nipple and walks over to his dresser to get me a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. I love his clothes the best. I can't really remember the last time I took a shower, got dressed, did my hair and put on make-up. I do a little bit of all of that when I have to leave the house, but it's housewife hair and make-up. It's not the same as taking your time to blow dry your hair evenly, then to sit down and making sure your eyeliner is even. Nope, I shower, braid my hair and put on some lips gloss and mascara before slipping into a week old pair of dirty jeans and one of Edward's old band tee's. I no longer have anymore 'me' time. I feel bad for Edward. What man wants to come home from a long day of looking at blood and sick people, to a wife with her ponytail falling to the side, her shirt wet from her milk leaking and smells like puke because she didn't have time to brush her teeth after she puked because the baby almost fell down the stairs? It's not very often that I feel good about myself. Edward swears that I'm more beautiful than I have ever been, but I don't feel very confident. Maybe I'm just feeling sorry for myself, but between my pregnant body and my insane baby, when I do have a free moment it's usually spent sleeping, not curling my hair and applying eye shadow. "Thanks," I mumble towards Edward, pulling his shirt over my head. I drop my feet over the side of the bed, groaning at my chipped nail polish.
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Even my toes look like crap. "I'm so ugly." I pull his boxers up my wobbly, jiggly legs. "Bella, shut the fuck up." It is Edward's way of calling me pretty. I know he means well. "Take a shower while Gunner is sleeping. What time is your appointment with the doctor?" Edward catches my wrist and pulls me toward him on my way to the bathroom. "Unless you want me to pee on your leg, you might want to let me go." I laugh into his chest, taking a deep breath of his sexy scent. "That was really sexy, Smella," Edward groans, sticking his cigarettes into the front pocket of his light blue hospital scrubs. I run to the bathroom before I really pee my pants. I pull Edward's boxers down to my knees and sit on the toilet. Sweet relief. There is nothing worse than my baby settling itself on my full bladder. "Baby, I need to brush my teeth." Edward knocks on the door. I open the door and he comes in while I pee the longest pee ever. "My appointment with Tyler is at twelve," I tell Edward, placing my elbows on top of my knees and my chin on my fists. Edward looks at me and laughs, blue foaming bubbles are all over his lips. "Ok," he mumbles with a toothbrush in his mouth. "My sister and Jasper are coming over for dinner tonight," he says after he's rinsed his mouth out. I'm done peeing; I just don't want to get up from the toilet yet. "Ugh, why?" I scoff, not into dealing with his sister today. Alice and I tried to move past our problems. We get along but her unwillingness to move on pisses me the fuck off. I do an okay job at keeping my mouth shut when she's around. Alice has a tendency to toss around rude comments and low blows towards my husband, but one of these days, I'm going to clock her in the mouth. I bite my tongue because Edward doesn't want to make an already uncomfortable
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situation blow out of proportion, but we all have our limits and I have just about reached mine. "Because, I invited her," Edward says as he stares at me sitting on the toilet, waiting for me to get up. I roll my eyes and clean myself. I pull my boxers up and roll them a few times at the waist; they still hang low on my widened hips. Edward stands against the doorframe while I tie my hair up in to a high ponytail and brush my teeth. I bitch about his sister and make no promises about not punching her in the eye if she gets out of hand tonight. "You're fucking pregnant, you're not punching anyone," Edward says annoyed. I drop my toothbrush into the sink and turn towards him. With my hands on my hips and tears already in my eyes, I snap. "You're taking her side?" "Bella," Edward complains, his head falls back and he turns around to leave the bathroom. "Don't walk away from me, Edward." I chase after him. He faces me. "Don't start a fucking fight with me before I go to work, Baby." Edward moves past me, taking the stairs down into the living room. I scream in frustration. I wake up the Gooch. I wipe the stupid tears from my eyes before I open the baby's bedroom door. Gunner is sitting up in his bed, his Mohawk sticking up in funny directions. His deep brown eyes are so full of innocence and happiness that I can't help but to smile back at him. "Hi my baby," I coo, picking him up to hold against my chest. When I was pregnant with Gunner, right before I delivered, I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to love him enough. At the time, all my ability to love was occupied by my love for Edward. The intensity and dire need I have for my husband is unlike anything I have ever felt for another person, including my dad and my brother. I wasn't entirely convinced that it would be possible for me to love our baby as much as I love Edward
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Our co-dependence has not changed, Edward and I are still sickly addicted and bound by our souls. We might handle our love differently, but it is still all consuming and suffocating. We love until the point of actual pain sometimes it hurts to be away from him for too long, and when we fight, I think back to when we split and it crushes me just as badly as it did then. I wasn't sure if I could handle loving another being that way. If I could survive that type of love, or of I even had the energy to care for another person in that fashion. I was wrong. And my love for Gunner is different. It's pure and simple and necessary. I need Edward to live; I live for Gunner. We live for Gunner. Gunner gives Edward and me no other choice than to work on ourselves, to become better people. Even when it's hard, when all I want to do is rip Edward's face off and scream at him until his ears bleed I refrain from old habits for Gunner's sake. I change Gunner's diaper, I can hear Edward slamming cabinets closed and cussing out loud. I hate when we fight in front of the baby, but it happens. We're trying, yet we're still far from perfect or normal. Add my erratic behavior and uncontrollable emotions on top of the challenges of being a married couple with a small child and we have the perfect environment for battle. But, I don't want to fight with him today. "Let's go say bye to Daddy before he leaves," I whisper to Goochie, kissing his fat cheek. I take the stairs one at a time, making sure not to trip and fall while I have the baby in my arms. Edward is standing in the kitchen, he doesn't look very happy and I don't blame him. I'm a lot to handle lately and maybe I take him for granted. "Hi, Daddy," I say through the tension. Gunner claps and reaches out for his father. Edward's face automatically softens, taking Gunner from me and hugging him before fixing his mohawk so it stands up straight. "Sorry," I apologize. "I know you are." Edward kisses Gunner on the forehead and hands him back over to me. He grabs his keys off the counter and turns back towards me.
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Edward is still so damn handsome; His hair isn't as unmanageable as it used to be. He cut it so that it's shorter on the sides and isn't as unruly on top. He seems to be stronger and more built than before he isn't so, soft or lanky. Edward's facial features are more defined, his skin is tanned and he has small laugh lines. Age and fatherhood have turned him into a studly man. No wonder why my vagina can't get enough, he is sizzling hot. "Quit looking at me like that, Baby, I have to go." Edward smirks, kissing my lips lightly good-bye. I grip onto the front of his scrubs. "Don't leave, not yet," I practically beg. He turns my body on, and it's uncontrollable. His smell, and his overall presence I'm so lucky to be married to such a gorgeous man. Edward gives in a little by kissing the corner of my mouth and then my cheek, but I turn my head and capture his lips with mine. "Please, not yet." Gunner is pinned between us; my breath already affected by the mood. Edward closes his eyes and nods his head. I kiss him again before I step away and stick Gunner into his high chair. I throw some Cheerios on his tray, then grab Edward, and pull him into the spare bedroom. The bed in the room that used to be Edward's is messy from my brother staying over last night. We leave the bedroom door open in case the baby starts to cry, Edward and I are good about having sex with Gunner in the next room one ear is always on him. Sometimes we even have the baby monitor near us just in case. Edward and I kiss while I step backwards until my legs hit the bed and I fall onto my back. Edward positions himself between my legs, his erection pressed against the inside of his scrubs. Thankfully, my stomach isn't too large yet; Edward can still be on top. Once I'm on my back, Edward stands up and pulls my ass to the edge of the bed. He looks me dead in the eye while he unties his scrubs and pulls out his length. He lifts up his shirt high enough for me to get a peek of my name tattooed across his stomach. I groan loudly and clutch onto the bed sheets, squeezing my thighs together for friction; that tattoo gets me every single time. Edward hooks his fingers into the waistband of my boxers, pulling them down my legs. He touches my center, sending my body into a frenzy. When Edward is in a hurry like he is this morning, he usually doesn't take the time to touch me, but goes straight into the fucking. Our sex life has boiled down to quickies in the bathroom or
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one of us being asleep in the middle of the night. We have sex a lot we don't make love very often. The way he is touching me now is forcing me to remember how badly I miss our time alone. I feel guilty for thinking that Gunner is in the way, because he isn't, but it passes as soon as Edward slips a finger inside of me. My head arches back; a low moan slips from my lips. I reach down and touch Edward touching me. "You feel so good, Baby," Edward whispers, leaning over me to bite my neck. I grip onto Edward's sides, slipping my hands beneath his scrubs. His skin is warm, raised with goose bumps. I pull him closer, my lips on his neck and my finger nails digging into his flesh. I need this, I need him to touch me and remind me that he loves me no matter what. I need him to love me with his body; I need reassurance. Edward pumps his finger in and out of me in slow repetition, adding a second finger when I'm so wet, I'm dripping. "Let me see you." Edward tugs on my shirt with his free hand. I'm hesitant about taking my shirt off. I feel ugly, I feel fat, stretched and engorged. I just can't deny his pleas, or the love that radiates from his eyes. In the heat of the moment, a mixture of the lust in his movements and the love in his touch, Edward leaves me with no other option than to feel good about myself. In his eyes, I am perfect. "Baby, your shirt," Edward says as he lifts my shirt up past my stomach. I bite on my lips, from both his hand and my insecurities. His hand stops, and our eyes make contact. "You're beautiful. To me, you are fucking perfect. Do you hear me?" I look away, despising my self-pity. "I'm your husband, Bella. Take your fucking shirt off." His tone is demanding, almost harsh.
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I lift my arms over my head and let Edward lift the shirt up for me. He kisses my bare stomach and laying his head on my chest as the shirt slips away from my arms. I circle my arms around Edward's neck, holding him to me. A pressure builds inside of my chest and arms. I run my fingers through his hair and kiss the top of his head. The moment is precious and rare. The baby giggles loudly in the kitchen, Edward and I both shake from our own fit of laughter. The laughing abruptly stops because Edward is pressing his lips against mine. I pull his shirt over his head, our skin touches and burns. He doesn't pull his pants all the way down, just far enough to slip inside of me without them getting in the way. Edward is slow, moving his hips in a slow circular rate. He kisses my breasts and softly speaks curse words against the skin on my neck. "Love you," he whispers into my ear, moaning when I meet his thrusts with my own. "I love you," I say back breathlessly, never feeling like the stupid words are ever enough to describe this what I feel. Our bodies rock in a heated synchronization; he strokes in and I thrust down. Edward hitches my leg over his hip, gripping tightly onto my thigh. We get lost inside of each other and take advantage of the stolen moment. I come first, biting my lip and hiding my face into Edward's chest. Gunner may not have any idea about what we are doing in here, but that doesn't mean I want him listening in on us while we come undone. With one hand gripped tightly on my thigh, Edward pulls my hair with the other and he bites onto my neck while he empties himself inside of me. I'm still high from my orgasm, circling my hips onto his pulsating sex never wanting it to end. Edward sucks my skin and pulls it between his teeth before releasing and pushing into me one last, hard time. We're both gasping for a decent breath; Edward doesn't pull out, but he does relax and drop his weight onto me. I suffocate, gladly because in a few more weeks, this wont be possible. "Better?" Edward lifts his head from my chest to looks at me. I nod, smiling with my bottom lip between my teeth.
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We stay connected for another thirty seconds before Edward pulls out and lifts his pants back up to be tied. I immediately look around for my clothes so that I can cover myself, using my arm to cover my breasts and pulling the blanket over to cover my stomach and legs. Edward slips his arms back into his scrubs. "That is really starting to piss me the fuck off, Bella," he says, sticking his head through the neck hole. Not looking in his direction, I find my shirt and Edward picks up my boxers off the floor and tosses them in my direction. He stays with me while I get dressed, and helps me get out of bed. I don't apologize for being embarrassed about my body. They are my insecurities, not his. Back in the kitchen, Gunner is finished with his Cheerios so I give him a few more while I heat up his baby cereal. Edward plays with him for a moment before saying his good-byes. "Call me after your appointment with the doctor, Bella." Edward tugs on the end of my ponytail. "I love you." He kisses my temple and leaves. After Gunner's breakfast, I drink a huge glass of chocolate milk. It's one of the only things I can manage to keep down for more than a couple of hours; odd because it is milk. My poor baby is going to be chocolate wasted by the time he or she is born. I stick Gunner in his Kangaroo Bouncer while I take a quick shower. Since I have a doctor's appointment today, I let my hair air dry while I get the baby dressed. I slick a little bit of gel into his mohawk so that it stay sticking up, and I apply a small amount of make-up on my face. I love my husband but Dr. Tyler Hawkins is a hot mess. I would never cheat on Edward with his new best friend but that doesn't mean I want to look like a lazy housewife when I see him either. I spray some hairspray to harden my natural waves and I load the baby into the Range Rover. I have a definite sad lip about my G-wagon, I hate seeing her all banged up. It was an accident; I hit a pothole the size of a freakin' manhole. I was scared, swerved to the left and crashed right into the parked garbage truck. Thank God the air bag didn't deploy, and my seat belt kept me firmly in place. I didn't pay one-hundred thousand dollars for a brand new Mercedes-Benz G-Class Wagon for it not to have awesome safety features. My baby is a tank in a beautiful package, she is just a little run down. Edward wouldn't make me get rid of it, even if he says he wants to.
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He won't if he knows what's good for him. My G-wagon is a part of our history, she has been there for us when we needed her the most and I won't get rid of her because she isn't a brand new model. I wave bye to my wagon as I pull out of the driveway. I can't see Gunny's face but I can see the top of his head in his car seat. He is sucking on his hand and falling asleep. Using the Rover's internal phone, I ask the car to call 'Edward,' the thing is a piece if crap and calls Emmett instead. "Hey, Sissy," Emmett answers after the first ring. "Hi, Emmy Bear, I didn't mean to call you. I was trying to call Edward on his stupid car phone." I turn past the brand new stop sign on the corner. "Yeah, I'm at work so I'll see you when I get off." His voice echoes through the car's speakers. I pause for a moment, unsure of what to say. "You're staying over again?" I ask, trying to keep my tone light so that he knows he is welcome to stay forever if he needs to. "I might be staying for a while; I'll talk to you about it when I get there after my shift." "Ok, Em. Just a warning, Alice and Jasper are coming over for dinner tonight." Emmett laughs loudly; he makes me smile. "Okay, Sissy. I love ya." "Love you, bye." I press the end button on the steering wheel and try again. "Call." I say steadily and loudly. 'Calling' the car phone answers. "Ed-Ward." I pronounce each syllable carefully. 'Calling Em-mett.' the stupid thing answers. "Cancel!" I yell and the baby starts to cry. "Call!" I shout again, ready to rip the car apart to find the speaker for the phone and rip it out so that I can squish it under my foot.
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'Calling.' 'Ed." I begin, ".Ward!" The people in the car behind me probably think I am a wack-job for screaming inside. 'Calling Ed-Ward.' the robotic voice finally says, getting it right. The car switches over and the speakers begin to ring. Edward answers after three rings, Gunner is still crying and I'm pissed. "What's going on, Bella?" Edward voice comes through the speakers. "Your stupid car and its dumbass phone," I snip, turning into the parking lot of the doctor's office. "Baby, I can't do this with you right now, I'm busy," Edward says aggravated. "I'm sorry; I only called you to tell you I'm at my doctor's appointment." "Ok, call me when you're done. I love you." Edward is talking to me while he is ordering other people around. He sounds overwhelmed; me and the crying baby probably didn't help out his stress level. "Yeah, OK. Love you." I hang up the phone and jump out of the car. Tyler meets me out front, taking the baby from my hands as soon as I'm close enough. I still have to do a double-take every time I see him. If I look only briefly or from the corner of my eyes, he looks exactly like Edward head on, they look completely different. Tyler's hair is more red than brown like Edward's. His nose is straighter and his lips are not as pouty. Tyler and Edward are about the same height but Tyler stands taller they both have the same asshole attitude though. "What are you doing Bella, I told you not to be carrying around the car seat like this anymore," Tyler scolds as he opens the office door for me. I walk in and go directly into the back where the examination rooms are. Perks of being the wife of the doctor's best friend, I don't have to wait around and look at bullshit parenting magazines while I wait for my turn. I wave hello to Tyler's front desk receptionist, Riley, and continue my way down towards our usual room.
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"You're fucking her, aren't you?" I whisper over my shoulder, that pretty blonde has no clue what she is dealing with. "Who, Riley?" Tyler chuckles. "Once, no twice but that's it." I laugh because he is so typical. I enter the usual exam-room, and automatically sit up on the table. Tyler sets Gunner on the floor beside me; he is sleeping soundly. We go through the round of questions he asks every time I see him in this setting. I tell him that I still feel like shit and I only drink chocolate milk and eat pickles. He looks at me with disgust. "Don't look at me like that. How do you think I feel throwing that up every night?" The thought alone hurts my tummy. He is looking through my chart, nodding his head like an idiot. "You're thirteen weeks. We won't be able to tell the sex of the baby today but we should be able to during your next appointment." "We want to know this time. Edward wants another boy." I smile, loving my Edward so much. "Because he knows that karma is a bitch," Tyler mutters under his breathe, smoky crooked grin on his lips. My examination goes by as expected; my baby is growing and healthy. Tyler assures me that the sickness will pass, and that during my next check-up we will find out the sex of my baby. He prints out a few ultrasound pictures for me to show Edward since he couldn't make it and afterwards he cleans up my stomach and we sit and chit-chat for a little while. I invite him over for dinner, but he declines because he already has plans. "Well, thanks. Now I'm stuck with Alice on my own," I tell Tyler, walking through his office. He laughs sticking Gunner's car seat back into its base. "I wouldn't usually miss an opportunity to hang out with your sister-in-law," he teases. I roll my eyes and give him a hug good-bye. There is no doubt that he'll be around
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the house next time Edward has a day off. I like Tyler, and not only because he is easy on the eyes. But because he is good for Edward they're a couple of douche bags together, but Tyler keeps Edward grounded and offers him a break from the everyday grind. Tyler kisses the top of my head and shuts the door when I'm inside the car. As soon as I pull out onto the street, I see Tyler pull out his cell phone I just know he is calling Edward. I make a stop by the grocery store on my way home, where I walk up and down the aisles trying to decide on what to make for dinner. Gunner sits in the cart, chewing in a teething ring. It is already leaning towards two in the afternoon and the nausea is slowly creeping its way in. All of this food smells, and looks horrible I chew on rice cakes as I stare at the meat rack. Gunner drops his toy onto the ground, and my cell phone starts to ring. "Hey, Edward," I sigh as I answer the phone. "How are my babies, I miss you so fucking much." His voice sends a chill through my arms. "I'm at the store and I can't decide what to make for dinner." "I'll pick something up." I knew I loved this man for a reason. XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo Puking almost seems like second nature to me now. It happens so often, my body doesn't even seem to be fighting it anymore. The very moment the nausea hits, I automatically gag there is no stopping it. I'm kneeled in front of the toilet, holding my own hair back. Gunner is rolling around in the living room. I can hear him playing, and until I hear a crash or crying, I am staying right here near the white porcelain. My arm draped across the toilet seat; my face leaning on my arm. I flush the toilet and wait for the second round of sickness to wash over me. There are tears in my eyes, but they are not there because I am crying. I am past crying over this shit, my eyes just water when I throw up.
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When saliva begins to builds in the back of my mouth and my stomach starts to spin, I brace myself over the opening of the toilet and squeeze my eyes shut. I dry heave, and spit, and since the world is the enemy and nothing is easy, Gunner starts to cry mid puke-n-rally. I try to make myself stop, nothing is even coming out but my stomach won't stop retracting. I stand to my feet, holding my hand over my mouth. I flip on the faucet and wash my mouth out with cold water. I don't bother with drying my hands or mouth off; I just turn and run towards the baby. My saving grace - Edward - already has him. I close my eyes and relax a little. "What happened?" I ask, sitting down on the couch. Edward sets the baby down on the floor and sits at my feet. He smells lightly of cigarette smoke, and exhaustion is apparent on his face. He sets my feet in his lap and massages the balls of my feet. "Nothing." He smiles at me. "He bumped his head on the table or some shit. Did he crawl today?" I shake my head. "Not that I saw." "You're lazy Goochie," Edward says, messing with the baby. I turn myself on the couch so that I can lay my head in Edward's lap. The diaper bag is on the coffee table; I pull it down and show Edward the ultra sound pictures. I point out the foot and the hands; he can make out the baby's profile. "Those are the hands of a boy," Edward says, looking at the pictures for the fifth time. "Nah, we're going to have a girl," I assure him. In the middle of our playful argument, Alice and Jasper walk through the front door. I sit up; Edward stands to greet his sister and Jazz. "My Chunky!" Alice squeals, reaching down so she can pick up the baby. "Hi, Bella," she says kindly. "Hey, Ally." My stomach flips and turns.
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"Not feeling well, Bella?" Jasper asks, following Edward into the kitchen for a beer. Alice stands in front of the TV, her shoulder length brown hair is down and straight. She makes me feel self-conscious. She looks perfect, and I'm a mess. I can't pinpoint exactly when Alice turned so bitter. She was so good through my pregnancy, her relationship with her brother was still tense but it was manageable. Now, when Alice is around the mood is awkward. She has a chip on her shoulder. I want to understand where she is coming from but when is enough, enough? "Is my brother taking care of you?" she asks, sitting down on the couch with the baby on her lap. I roll my eyes, deciding if I should throw up on her shoes or not. "Yes, Alice." "You look pale," she says. "I am pale." "Chunky, chunky, chunk chunk," she coos at Gooch. "I spoke to my mom today, she wants to come visit." Alice looks at me with the corner of her eye. "She'll probably stay with you and Edward. She only ever stays here." And here we go "I told her that you and Edward don't have to be 'watched' anymore." Alice trails off, ". you guys have your perfect little family, stuck in your perfect little bubble." "What the fuck are you talking about, Alice?" Edward asks, sitting on the arm of the couch near my head. My stomach is beginning to constrict. I sit up with my hand over my mouth, Edward helps me up to my feet and I run towards the bathroom. I shut the door with my foot and empty my stomach into the toilet. A few minutes later, Edward is sitting behind me and he holds my hair back. "Your sister is a bitch," I complain, standing up to wash out my mouth. Edward stands behind me; I look in the mirror and see his reflection. Stupid crooked smirk, he is so beautiful. "I love you, Smella," he vows. "I love you so fucking much." His eyes meet mine
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and Edward kisses my cheeks despite my sickness. "Don't let her get to you. You have me that's all that fucking matters." I close my eyes; his arms come around and hold me close to his chest. Edward leans his chin on my shoulder, he is breathing in my ear. All of my bad feelings and nauseous stomach melt away; I fall into his embrace. "Just feel me," he whispers. XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo AN: Another one bites the dust. I don't have too much to say other than thank you for reading. I think every single review mentioned how much they missed Closerward. A lot of you even voiced that he is your favorite Edward in the entire fandom. He would legit kick Fifty's ass, just sayin' LMFAO. Don't think he is going soft, I promise you that the fuckery is coming If you're interested, the Crawl story banner is up at my blog. The TeamCloserward blog link can be found on my profile. We post teasers and reviews over there, as well as any announcements and news that you might be interested in. If you are a Revelry reader, my very good friend, MyRobAddiction, made me an awesome fic video. It literally brings the story to life and if you haven't seen it yet, the link is on my profile and on my blog. Speaking of Revelry; Revelry has been nominated for a Twinkling Hall of Fame award in the AngstGoddess category. My other fic McFearless has also been nominated for the Hidden Gem award. Voting has not started yet, but take a look at all of the nominees at twinklingswta (dot) blogspot (dot) com. Bye everyone. TB23

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Chapter 3
AN: I do not own Twilight, I only make it badass. Characters belong to S. Meyer, which is a complete shame. Setting, plot, characteristics and history are mine. Please do not use without my permission. Crawl is fictional; if you are easily offended by Rosalie, the word 'Fuck' or family dinners then this story is not for you. Please remember, this is only a story and any resemblance to true life is coincidence. Although, I am sure at one point or another we have had family dinners that end in fucking disaster. Let me start off by saying that you are all a bunch of sick bitches. I have received many requests for Closerward and Smella to 'Brawl.' abuse is not something that should be taken lightly, or made fun of . *Blink, Blink* You know what? Fuck it. Your wish, my fucking command. They wouldn't be Closerward and Smella if they didn't fuck shit up every once and a while. *Wink* We're all sick bitches. Jaime, the love of my life and the apple of my eye. Your friendship means more to me than you may understand. I'm not good at verbalizing my gratitude, but know that you are cherished and utterly appreciated. (**note from Jaime - I heart you big time) Unfie, your dedication and loyalty are also appreciated. Thank you for always being available when I'm confused and lost. (Which happens a lot) Filia, I love you bb. (Small side note: Will someone please write prison sex for her? She's being weird this week.) Your friendship is irreplaceable. Enough with the sentimental bullshit, and on with the fuckery. Crawl Chapter 3
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EPOV "Are you feeling better yet?" I ask, pushing the hair away from Bella's face. She looks pale but hasn't stuck her head in the toilet for ten minutes. "Yeah, just let me brush my teeth." Bella turns away from me and opens up the medicine cabinet. We have a toothbrush near every sink in the house; it's a must when your lady throws her guts up most of the night. I sit on the edge of the bathtub, drinking the rest of my beer while Bella brushes her teeth. I'm tired, I had a long day at work and I don't feel like dealing with my sister. I invited her over out of fucking politeness. I'm trying to be a good brother, husband and father move past all of the bullshit that we've been through the last couple of years, but Alice makes it fucking impossible. I'm about to lose my fucking cool. Bella rinses her mouth out and dries her face with the towel. She sits beside me and lays her head on my shoulder, sighing in exhaustion. "Ready to go out there?" she asks, closing her eyes. "Yeah, let's get this shit over with." I take her by the hand and open the bathroom door. I can hear my sister and Jasper speaking as I lead Bella down the hallway. Their conversation doesn't seem to be light, but thick with apprehension. Jasper lets a lot slide with my sister, he's good to her, but when he feels a certain way about something he speaks up. I can't make out their words but it is apparent that Jasper isn't happy and by the look on Alice's face, neither is she. When Bella and I step out into the living room, Alice rolls her eyes and snaps her lips. I look back at Smella; she has her head down. It bothers me, I know she's tired and isn't feeling well but this is her fucking house. She isn't going to stand in our living room with her head down because my sister is being a bitch. I know she has more fight in her than that. "Pick your fucking head up, Bella," I whisper to her, squeezing her hand. She lifts her eyes, surprise and oblivion crossing her face. "You don't walk around with your head down in this fucking house."
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Bella smiles and nods subtly. "I'm just tired." "I don't care," I tell her sternly. Bella nods, but I don't think she understands how pissed I am at the moment. We've paid our dues; Bella and I are good parents, we have put an honest effort in changing our lives, and I think we've earned some fucking respect. I won't tolerate my sister coming around with her attitude and snide remarks. I'm not in the mood; I've got a lot of other shit to worry about. Jasper looks at me with a worried expression. He's probably afraid I'm going to rip into my sister. He's right. "Keep your fucking comments to yourself, Alice." I point a finger at her, pulling Bella towards the kitchen. "I didn't even say anything," she defends herself. Bella moves away from me to pick the baby off the floor. She sets him in his high chair and mouths for me to 'shut up.' "I won't shut up about this, Bella. She's a guest in our home." I grab a new beer from the fridge and twist off the cap. "I can leave," Alice snaps, standing up from the couch. Jasper groans, keeping his calm. "Or you can quit your shit and eat some fucking dinner with your family." I shrug my shoulders and toss the bottle cap into the trash can under the sink. "Either way is fine, but until you're married and you have your own kids, don't comment on my life." I hear Bella gasp to the side of me as soon as the words leave my lips. Japer gives me a look of pure anger, and Alice I can't make a make sense of her expression It's a mix of hurt, anger and resentment. I feel for her, I do, but enough is enough. "Edward," Jasper warns in a serious tone.
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"I don't want to hurt your feelings, Alice, but I can't allow you to come in here and spread your negativity all over the place. It's bullshit." "Oh, like you did for all of those years? Like you both did? You're better now, so fuck the rest of us for still being traumatized?" Alice shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest. "Let it the fuck go!" I yell, scaring the baby. Jasper turns to face me on the other side of the kitchen bar, he looks disappointed and unhappy but there is a pleading in his eyes. Bella asks me to calm down, and for the baby's sake, I try. Until Alice opens her fucking mouth "You shouldn't speak like that in front of the baby, Edward." She moves closer to me, but is stopped mid-way by Jasper. "It just goes to show how immature you still are. How freakin' unaware you are to the rest of the world." I laugh in spite of her; Bella is still begging with her eyes for me to give it up, but the baby isn't crying and my adrenaline is pumping. This is a long time coming, and my sister is going to learn to respect me in my fucking home. I don't give a fuck what she says, I've earned some credit. "Oblivious to the world? Do you have any idea how stupid you sound?" I walk away and sit at the kitchen table, I grabbed Chinese food on the way home and I'm sure it's cold by now but I won't let her keep me from eating. I'm fucking hungry. "It's not stupid. What's stupid is the fact that you and Bella have your perfect little family with your perfect little lives and you've forgotten all of the bullshit you've inflicted on the rest of us." Alice moves closer, but Jasper refuses to let her pass into the dining area. "Edward, please" Bella whispers, setting the baby's food onto his tray "stop." "You should listen to her before I say something you don't want to hear," Alice chimes in, vindictive smile on her face. "Alice!" Jasper finally snaps, looking at his girlfriend with frustration. "Enough, I'm over it." "Yeah, well you've always been a little cut off, Jasper," Alice argues.
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"What did you just say to me?" he asks in a calm tone. A calm Jasper is sometimes a scary Jasper. Bella rolls her eyes and continues to feed the baby his carrots and sweet potatoes. Gunner doesn't seem to be bothered by the tension in the room. I know fighting in front of a child isn't any good, but this isn't a perfect world and we're not the mother fucking Brady Bunch. My kid isn't going to grow up ignorant to his surroundings, he knows we all love him but I refuse to shelter him. They always end up fucked, and in the basement building pipe bombs up when you do that shit. "Nothing, I'm sorry," Alice apologizes before walking past him and turning on the oven. "You can't deny me this anger, Edward. You have screwed with my life too many times for me to keep track of." she starts but is interrupted by Bella. "How long do we have to pay for our mistakes, Alice? Call me ignorant, but if you're referring to Edward's accident last year, you did the same thing when we moved to California." Bella has her back faced towards my sister. She feeds the baby, saying her peace without raising her voice. She is such a faker. That shit makes me smile. "Accident?" Alice snorts. "Is that what you guys call it? I'm pretty sure it was a suicide attempt. So, unless Edward 'accidentally' ate a couple bottles of pills, 'accidentally' drove to east freakin' L.A. and 'accidentally' tried to blow his head off, then I call bullshit on it being an accident." Alice throws the Chinese food into the oven. I'm biting my tongue until she is finished with her rant. Drinking my beer and watching my wife feed our baby. "Are you done?" I ask Alice, pushing a chair out for Jasper beside me. He sits down with his face in his hands. I want to tell him to lift his fucking head, but it's not my place. "You act like its no big deal. Like it never happened," Alice adds before finally shutting the fuck up. "It did happen; I just refuse to dwell on it. Maybe you need to do the same." I drink the rest of my beer and set the bottle to the side. I slide my chair back and
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walk right past my sister towards the refrigerator. I open my new beer and lean back against the refrigerator door. "Why can't you just be happy for us? Why are you so bitter?" Alice turns, leaning back against the stove. "Ummm, maybe because I spent my college years making sure you and your best friend over there didn't murder each other and you ruined my wedding." The sound of Bella's chair scooting back ricochets through the kitchen area and she turns and looks at Alice. I can tell she is about to lose her shit. Before Bella can say anything, I do. "I'm not the reason you're not married, Alice. I'm not the reason you don't have any fucking kids." I'm in her face and I'm past remaining calm. I'm tired of being blamed for her failures. "Don't come here and bitch at me because I have those things and you don't, it is you're own fucking fault." Jasper pushes his way between us; Bella takes the baby from the high chair and moves him into the living room so he can play with his toys. I want to punch a wall, or a cabinet door. I want to murder the fucking dishwasher or pull the sink from the wall. I'm trying to keep it cool, but she's pushed me too far. "I'm sorry you're so fucking angry with me. I really am, but you're being a hypocrite," I add, before moving Jasper out of the way and coming face to face with my older sister. "A hypocrite? What do you even mean?" "I mean you did it too, and you know exactly what I'm talking about." Jasper pulls Alice away from me; he is either a better man than me; or a complete pussy because if anyone was speaking to Bella the way that I'm speaking to my sister, their ass would have been laid out ten minutes ago. Maybe he is just better at understanding. Alice pulls her arms away from Jasper at the same time Bella appears back in the kitchen. She still doesn't look well, and her hands are on her hips. I wouldn't put anything past Bella; she would smack Alice around despite being pregnant. I wouldn't let it happen, but I wouldn't underestimate my girl. "But there's a huge difference between us, Edward," Alice declares.
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"Fucking quit already, Al!" Jasper yells, throwing his empty beer bottle into the trash. She doesn't give his request a second thought, she just continues on with her argument. "I did it out of desperation and love; you did it out of spite and egotism. In the process you ruined the biggest day of my life, and not once have you said sorry and truly meant it." "Fuck you!" I hiss, infuriated by the way she feels. It's fucking non-sense. I did it because I didn't know what else to do. I just wanted the hurt to stop I wanted out. The house is silent with the exception of the baby in the living room. Alice and I are in some sort of show down in the kitchen; I'm waiting for her to say another word, she's waiting for me to. I love my sister, but if this is how she really feels then I don't see how we can speak to each other any longer. When the tension is about to shatter, and one of us is about to lose our cool again, the front door opens and shuts. I make the first move and step away from my sister and pull Bella into my arms. I kiss her temple and apologize for fighting in front of her. My heartbeat is still pumping vigorously; I can feel it in my eyes and in my hands. I want to hit something so badly. I want to lash out and destroy the entire house but I can't. Instead, I take a few deep breaths from my wife's skin and hold her close against my body. Bella tells me to calm down; she keeps my hands from shaking and kisses along my jaw. We're in our own little world until a voice from the living room breaks my concentration. "What did I miss?" Rosalie stands in the living room, Harlie at her feet and Gunner in her arms. "Nothing." I smile, actually happy to see her. Rosalie has changed a lot since the birth of her daughter. She chopped off her long blonde hair and dyed it brunette. She isn't as hot-tempered as she used to be and more understanding and compassionate. She and Emmett have a few problems,
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but she seems happy enough with Garrett. Harlie is getting big quickly; already standing up on her own and threatening to walk. She is only three months older than Gunner is; but is far more advanced than her age expectancy. She's very special to me. "Oh, well, sorry to intrude on dinner time but Emmett said he was staying here and tonight is his night with Harlie." Rosalie sets Gooch back down onto the floor and reaches into her purse for a sippy cup for Harlie. I kiss Bella a few more times and then move into the living room to pick up my niece. "It's cool, stay for diner. We have plenty. Emmett should be here soon." I dance in little circles with Harlie, she laughs and shows me her mouth full of teeth. I kiss her neck and tickle her tummy. Little princess loves her Uncle Edward. Maybe I can teach her to hate her Aunt Alice. Right on queue, Emmett walks through the front door. For the time being, the anger in the room has subsided. Jasper is happy to see his sister, Emmett is happy to see his daughter, and I'm happy that my house is still intact after the massive blow up. While the kids play in the living room, the rest of us sit at the dinner table and eat Chinese. The conversation is flat; Emmett speaks about his day and Rosalie speaks about Harlie. Bella is silent, playing around with her food. Jasper is obviously frustrated and my sister is a bitch. I shovel food into my mouth, because like I said, I'm hungry. "So," Rosalie speaks, "Emmett, where's Angela?" I stop mid-bite, chow mein hanging from my mouth. Emmett seems a little stunned by her question, but the rest of the table looks too damn nosy for my fucking liking. I finish bringing the noodles into my mouth, chewing while eyeing Emmett. He shrugs his shoulder and continues to eat, but his cheeks are red and his hands are shaking a little. He's made some mistakes; unlike my sister, I don't hold that shit against him. So, I
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change the subject. "Bella went to the doctors today; we have new ultra sounds of the baby." Thankfully the subject shrifts towards Bella's pregnancy and away from Emmett and his domestic problems; Em definitely has some explaining to do, but not in front of everyone at the table. And definitely not in front of my sister. She'll just throw it in his face a year later because she is a bitter bitch. When I'm done with my food, I sit back and drink another beer. I need a cigarette and I want to go to bed so I can sex up my puke-smelling wife. I sit back while my family speaks to each other. There isn't any interacting between Alice and Bella, but she speaks openly about the baby and her evil morning sickness. Emmett still can't get over the fact that she doesn't like coleslaw apparently, neither can Rosalie. It's a fucking coleslaw conspiracy. When my cell phone rings, I'm happy to answer it. I press the answer button, wave my pack of cigarettes at Bella and point towards the door. She nods, and I leave. "Hello," I speak into my cell. "What's up? What are you doing?" Tyler answers. I step out into my yard and light a cigarette. Tyler and I chop it up for a while; he tells me a little bit more about Bella's doctor's appointment, but other than that we speak about guy shit. Cars, girls The Ultimate Fighter. We go back and forth about how he isn't a real doctor because he looks at vaginas all day, and how I am, because I treat cool stuff like gun shot wounds and broken limbs. Not that gun shot wounds and broken limbs are cool, it is just doctor shit. I'm a serious doctor because I treat people; he's a wannabe doctor because he sticks his fingers in pussy all day. It's just the way it is, and what sucks is that it's not always good pussy like Bella's. It's sometimes the nasty kind; the diseased and deformed kind. The 'it smells and I don't know why kind.' It really surprises me he even likes vagina, after some of the stories he has told me, I might just turn to peen. Not me, him.
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I'm the cool doctor so I don't really have the problem with disgusting vagina. "You're an idiot," Tyler says, laughing at me. "Says you and my sister." I sigh. "Bells told me she was coming over for dinner. How did it go?" I blow smoke out into the air. "It's still going." "Well then I should let you go. Wanna have a beer after work tomorrow?" Tyler asks. "Sure. I can't really leave Bella, so we can do it here?" "Fine with me." "Alright, Bro, I'll talk to you in the morning." I put out my cigarette and begin walking back toward the house. "Yep, see ya." "I hope you dream about infected cooters," I say before hanging up, making myself a little bit sick. I don't know how he does it. Back inside the house is more of the same shit. Everyone is still sitting around the table, only the kids have joined the mothers. Gunner reaches for me as soon as I sit down, I take the baby and sit him on my lap. It's past eight, he should be in bed but tonight is a special occasion. It is apparently family night. My sister makes a comment about me smelling like cigarettes, I blow her off and give Gunny a raspberry on his stomach. Bella has done a good job at keeping her mouth shut when it comes to my sister. Being able to control her actions is not a trait Bella had a year ago, and to be completely honest she still doesn't really have the same control when it comes to me. I think she's doing it in the best interest of the children. They'll turn out fucked up regardless. It's what parents do; they fuck up their kids
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without intentionally meaning to do it. Ask anyone, and they'll give you some traumatizing story about how it's their parents fault they didn't succeed. Or how it's their parent's fault for not paying attention to them, it's their parent's fault they dropped out of school or can't commit to a relationship. Sometimes it's true, sometimes it's just an easy excuse. My dad fucked me up. Bella's mom fucked her up We'll fuck Gunner up and Emmett and Rosalie will most definitely fuck up Harlie. The goal is containing the fuck up's. The point is to aim the child in the right direction and help them through their fuck up's and when they don't make it out in one piece, you take the blame. Covering kids ears while you say the word 'Fuck" or keeping them from watching Sponge Bob won't make you a better parent. Loving your kid despite fucking them up makes you a better parent. My dad and Bella's mom skipped over that memo, but we hear it loud and clear. I look at my kid and I see greatness; not only because he is mine, but also because he is already so independent. He is stubborn and determined. The little fucker is too stubborn to crawl, and determined to drive me fucking insane in the process. His looks will kill, but his personality will shine. Gunner can absolutely be anything he wants to be. Too bad for him I already decided he's going to be a doctor, and not a vagina doctor like his Uncle Tyler, but a badass doctor like his pops or his grandpa. I've come to terms with the fact that Smella and I are not perfect people. In fact, we're pretty shitty. We are selfish and ignorant. One of us is always right, and can never admit to being wrong. We do hurtful things and we are as egotistical as they come. Early in Bella's pregnancy with Gunner, we spoke of change and bought all of the fucking pregnancy books. The 'What to expects' and 'How to,' books, determined to be the best parents around. That lasted for about two minutes. This is us and if there is one thing I strive for when it comes to Goochie, it's that he grows to be an honest man. Owning his actions and giving the finger to anyone who tells him to be different.
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This is our family; we are fucked up. We curse and we fight, but we own who we are and leave no room for excuses. Some families may choose to walk on their tip toes around their children, substituting their 'Fucks' and 'Oh, shits' for 'Friggin' and 'Oh, golly.' Not everyone will approve, but I refuse to be so fake. My sister and I may not be on the best of terms at the moment, but I'm proud to have these people in my home. I'm honored that they have chosen to be in my life and a part of my child's. We are full of dysfunction and a couple of us are probably bad influences, but what family doesn't have that? I hope Gunner makes better choices than I did, but I also hope he grows up and finds a love like the love I have for his mother and I hope that he knows that his family loves him. That we fucking love him. The cards are definitely stacked against him, but he isn't helpless. With a little bit of pushing, and a few smacks to the back of the head, I am positive that Gunner will grow up to make me proud. Even after we've fucked him up. "You know what, Alice?" Bella growls, pushing her chair back. Rosalie, Jasper and Emmett all stand, waiting to jump in the middle of whatever the fuck is going on. I hold on to Goochie, bracing for a jump and run in case Bella or Alice decides to throw objects. "Bella, calm down," Emmett whispers to his sister, holding her back by her arm. "Your sister is a bitch, Edward," Bella sneers, pulling her arms free from Emmett. I was so lost in my thoughts about ruining Gunners life; I missed the argument. "Bella, sit down, Baby," I say calmly, wiping slobber off of Goochie's chin. "Fine, but if she says one more fucking word about you I'm going to" "You're going to what?" Alice snaps, pushing her own chair back. Jasper takes one last bite of his food before throwing his napkin on his plate. "Alice, get in the car." Alice looks at Jasper with a puzzled expression. "What did I do?" she asks, sitting back down.
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Rosalie and Emmett sit, but Emmett remains close to Bella just in case. "Dinner was good; we should get together more often." Jasper smiles at me, reaching over to pat my shoulder and kiss Gunner on the top of his head. "No problem, Jazz. Call me tomorrow." I look at him as he stands and pulls Alice from her chair. He isn't happy with her; they should go home and work on their own kids to fuck up. Jazz says goodbye to his sister and his niece, Bella is still fuming in her chair it's all a little bit hilarious. Before Alice walks away from the table, she makes a comment about my mom. "You should call her, like I said. She only stays here and she wants to see the baby." They way she said it is a lot worse than the words spoken. There was wickedness behind her statement. Alice is still resentful and refusing to forgive her bad. I watch, covering Gunner with my arms, as his mother stand up and grabs her large cup of lemonade. Rosalie spins, blocking Harlie and Jasper and Emmett reach out towards Bella. But it's too late, Bella already has the glass held back aimed right at my sisters head. She throws the cup, lemonade falling onto the kitchen table as it flies in the air. My sister screams and she ducks. It hit's the wall behind her and explodes Pink lemonade covers every surface in the dining room. It splashes on me, on the chandler, on our left over food and the hardwood floor. The wall is covered and my sister is drenched. Bella lifts the chair next, and I stand to interfere but her brother gets to her first. There is some more screaming and some more throwing of smaller objects but the rest of us do our part to keep things from getting physical. Jasper drags Alice out by her wet shirt and Emmett literally sits on his sissy's lap. Harlie is crying but Gunner is splashing his hands on a puddle of lemonade on the table. When the front door finally shuts and my sister is gone, I start to laugh. I have no idea what the fuck happened, but I'm pretty sure we just traumatized the fuck out of the kids. XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo
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AN: True story, I did that shit in real life. Threw a huge plastic cup full of lemonade at my husband's friend when I was three months pregnant. Then I tried to beat up his girlfriend. It was a mess, a mess I had to clean up. Don't hate Alice too much, she has her reasons. No offense to the parents who use 'Friggin' and 'Oh, golly' in front of their kids. You're doing a wonderful job. To the rest of you who are more like me, our kids will be fine too. That was just the tip of the fucked up iceberg by the way. I will say this, I know a few of you are worried about Edward cheating on Bella or vise versa a la Closer. Don't worry about that, it's not going to happen. Some news: Closer is up for a Twinkling Walk of Fame award for best rendition of Bella and Edward (I think) shame on me. My other stories Aha Shake, McFearless, Revelry and Milk are also up for awards, and I have been nominated for the Most Devoted Author award. Vote at Twinklingswfa (Dot) blogspot (Dot) com I have also been nominated for a couple of Golden Lemon Awards. My fics True Love Way, McFearless and Aha Shake are up for nominations. Vote at The goldenlemonawards (Dot) com And trust, I saw who I was up against and I hold no expectations. It's an honor to be nominated for so many different awards. Thanks to everyone who took the time and nominated me. One last thing, I signed up for The Fandom Gives Back: Autism. Donations start on 4/1 and has a $5 minimum. I highly encourage all of you to either participate or donate or both. Autism affects millions of people in some way, shape or form. (**note from Jaime - HEY! I signed up too so go donate!) So, I plan on writing a new OS or an outtake from one of my fics, but I would appreciate your feedback. PM me or find me on twitter and let me know what you want I shall deliver. TB23
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Chapter 4
I do not own Twilight: I only make it badass. Characters belong to S. Meyers, which is a complete shame. Setting, plot, characteristics and history are mine, Please do not use without my permission. Crawl is fictional; if you are easily offended by Tyler Hawkins, getting old, or anything else then this story is not for you. Please remember, this is only a story and any semblance to true life is coincidence only. Welcome back to my fuckery. 500 reviews for three chapters! You people are insane, seriously I don't know how you read this shit. Today, just for the hell of it, I pulled up California Waiting and started editing chapter six. It was a random move on my part, but I couldn't believe how many typos there were. Yeah, it amazes me you made it through California Waiting, let alone Closer. O.o Anyways, your reviews make my day, week, and month. Thanks for sharing your stories on how, you too, are crazy bitches when you're pregnant. I am TeamBella23, and I am a thrower. (I like to slam stuff too!) Oh, and someone asked me why these chapters were so much shorter than the ones in Closer. My answer: I dunno. Jaime, I've never thrown anything at you but I will pinch your vagina when we meet. Unfie, I would never throw anything at you either, I just wouldn't you're too sweet. Filia, you on the other hand Chapter 4 Epov "Well, that was fucking interesting," I say, wiping the lemonade off the side of my face. Gunner is still splashing his hands in a puddle that formed on the table. Emmett sat down, and is now eating the rest of his dinner. Rosalie is waiting for someone to
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explain what is going on, and Smella, she's turning green and running to the bathroom. She slips in lemonade on the tile floor. "Motherfucker!" she groans, straightening herself and sprinting down the hallway. "So, is anyone going to acknowledge what just happened?" Rosalie asks with a smirk on her face. "Because I'm clueless, but I totally want to know what that was all about." I sit Goochie on the floor, and push my chair in so I can finish my dinner. Lemonade kind of splashed on everything, but I'm fucking hungry. I serve myself some more orange chicken. I dip my egg roll into the sweet and sour sauce, and I shove my mouth full of Chinese goodness. "My sister is a bitch," I finally answer Rose, my mouth full of food. She looks at me for a while with a curious expression before picking up her own fork and eating some teriyaki chicken. Her bangs are wet, and she has a huge lemonade stain on the front of her shirt, but to us, this is just another family dinner. When Bella returns, we all eat like nothing ever happened; like we're not all fucking drowning in lemonade. "Tyler is coming over tomorrow night, Baby," I say to Bella, forgetting the crush Rosalie has on him. "Dr. Mc-fuck-me-please?" Rose squeaks. Emmett drops his fork, shaking his head. "That's just inappropriate, Rose." She looks at him with a raised eyebrow and a vindictive smirk. "Emmett, I'm kidding." "Whatever, you're always saying shit when he's around." Bella and I share a look; unsure if I should continue my conversation with my wife about my friend coming over tomorrow night, or if I should sit back and watch this shit unravel. Emmett has some shit he needs to say, I didn't want my sister listening in, but I'm a nosy motherfucker who plans on sticking around while they hash this out.
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"So, why do you even care?" Rose asks, taking another bite of her chicken. I open up my arms to Bella, who was only playing with her food; she pushes back her chair and balls herself up in my lap. She hides her face in my neck and wraps her arms around my shoulders. The kids are playing with Goochie's blocks or some shit in the living room, and things with Emmett and Rosalie are finally starting to heat up. I rub my ladies stomach, and listen to an argument that I have no business listening to. "I don't care," Emmett argues, pushing his chair back and taking a larger swig from his half-empty beer. "OK, then shut up and lay off my case." Rose eyes Emmett for a second; taking in his unease and his breakable posture. I know that she can see it as well as I can, Emmett is at a crossroads. He's a dumb motherfucker, if you ask me. "What's your problem? Why did Angela say you're staying here?" Rosalie and Angela are not on speaking terms; haven't been since Harlie was born. The tension between them is thick, but Angela is smart enough to keep her distance. She avoids Rose by not coming around and avoiding run-in's. Unfortunately, for Angela, all of our family functions include Rosalie. We haven't seen much of Emmett's wife around lately "Because I'm staying here for a while," Emmett says defensively. "Why?" Rosalie persists. "Why do you care, Rosalie?" "Because!" she answers loudly, visibly frustrated. I'm on Team Rosalie in this case. She and I have had our share of problem, but Emmett should never have married Angela. It was the wrong move on his part, he was thinking with his dick and not his head or his heart. He fucked up by committing to the wrong person. Now that he see's everything in perspective, I'm not sure what he expects from Rose, but whatever it is, it won't be a simple fix.
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Emmett looks at me; I stare back. I have no advice to give other than to be honest. I'm not exactly the best person to come to for relationship advice, but honesty always seems to work. "We're having some problems," Emmett finally answers. Rosalie laughs out of spite. "What kind of problems? Explain yourself because I'm still coming up with a blank." Bella snores lightly against my skin. She's heavy in my arms, giving me a fucking dead leg. I want to wake her up and tell her she is going to miss the best part of Rosalie and Emmett's fight, but I let her sleep. "It's not a big deal, Rose. We're having a fight; I'm staying with my sister for a while." He eyes Rosalie nervously, its odd seeing Emmett so vulnerable. "Are you splitting up? Are you getting a divorce?" she asks, frustrated. "I don't know," Emmett whispers. Rosalie stares at him in disbelief, for what seems like hours. The table is silent with the expectation of Bella's light snoring and the kids playing in the living room. Emmett refuses to look at Rose; Rosalie can't remove her eyes from Emmett. "You son-of-a-bitch," Rosalie hisses beneath her breath. "Don't start, Rose." Emmett sighs. "I told you" Rose begins my thoughts exactly. "I fucking told you not to marry her." "I don't want to hear that shit, Babe." Emmett slams his beer bottle onto the table. "Too fucking bad." Rosalie stands up and starts clearing the table. She asks me if I'm done with my plate and if Bella is done with hers. She puts all of the dirty dishes into the sink, with the exception of Emmett's. It's a childish move, but a spiteful one that does its job by hurting Emmett's feelings. Rosalie rinses off the dishes and places them in the dishwasher while she rips into Emmett by calling him names and cursing his marriage. I try not to laugh, I feel bad for Emmett, but I've always felt bad for Rosalie. This is one fuck up I'm not apart of, it's weird being on this side of the domestic fuckery, it's almost funny.
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In the mean time, the kids are throwing blocks at my flat screen and lemonade is still dripping from my chandelier. Bella wakes up, runs back towards the bathroom and I get up to get another beer. It's just another night in the Cullen home . . . "What did she say?" I ask Emmett after Rosalie packed up the kid and left. Harlie was supposed to stay with him tonight, but they agreed to let her go home with her mom until Emmett figured some shit out. "You're welcome to stay here, Emmett, for as long as you need." I don't really mean it, my brother-in-law is annoying as fuck sometimes, but Bella would offer; I have to, too. "Let me see she said that I can go fuck myself, I told you so, and that Angela is a bitch and deserves to go to hell with no water the usual." Emmett laughs, drinking his tenth beer. I pat his knee; Rosalie left over an hour ago with Harlie and Bella took Gunner to bed and has been in the shower since. I hate leaving Emmett alone in a dark living room to deal with this shit alone, but my manhood needs some attention. I'm a selfish motherfucker. "Shit will get better, just give it some time," I offer with a sudden appreciation for my own family. Bella and I may be fucked up, but were together. "You need to clear shit up with Angie and talk to Rose, that's all you really can do." "What if she won't have me back?" Emmett whispers. "Who?" I ask. He doesn't answer; Emmett gets up, fucks with my hair and walk back towards the guest bedroom. I sit in the dark for a while, finishing my beer. Bella eventually calls for me, I tell her I'll be up in a minute. It's fucking ironic being on the other side of Emmett's problems. For so long, that
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was Bella and I, always fighting, causing scenes and ruining dinner. Everything in my home seems so normal now. It's hard to believe that it's going to last; this is too simple. My house is warm, our child is sleeping my wife is taking a shower. With the exception of Emmett, all is calm. What happened with Alice tonight is fucking mild compared to the shit Bella and I used to inflict upon everyone. We had no mercy and everyone was our victims. We're still selfish in the manner that no one is more important than the people in our three member family, but we are not as inconsiderate as we once were. Perfect family. Perfect home. Perfect children. Perfect dogs. My job is ideal; my parents set me up for the rest of my life. Bella and I drive the best cars; we live in the best neighborhood. Something has to give; I can feel it in the pit of my stomach. This is too perfect. We're not this lucky. Bella and I have never shaped well to conformity, but here we are living the motherfucking American dream. All we need is a white picket fence and a mini-van and we will be the fucking Cleavers. My beautiful wife waits for me to get home from work every single day with our kid in her arms, one in her stomach and our dogs at her feet. Dinner is cooked; we eat as a family and are in bed by nine at the latest. We have become predictable; our life is planned out for us. It's too good to be true. Maybe if I'm still, maybe if I don't make any sudden movements, maybe everything won't fuck up. Maybe Smella and I can live this normalcy for a while. Maybe. "Edward," Bella whines. I laugh into the neck of my beer bottle, drink it until it's empty and set it on the table. "I'm coming, Baby." She is waiting for me at the top of the stairs, the light from our bedroom lighting the side of her face. Bella's hair is wet and dripping, her body wrapped in a towel. She doesn't look as sick as she usually does, but she does look exhausted. I kiss the corner of her lips, wrapping my arms around her body and pulling her into the room. "I think I want to get you a mini-van," I say, kissing down her neck. She snorts, circling her arms around my waist. "Yeah, right."
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I push her back towards the bed, kissing her along her collarbone and up her jaw. I take my shirt off as Bella is climbing back on to the bed. "What's wrong with mini-vans, Smella?" I ask, pulling her towel away and dropping it onto the floor. She opens herself, allowing me to crawl between her legs. Her arms are placed above her head, her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open. I kiss along side her breast, massaging the other one with my hand. "You have lemonade in your hair, Edward." Bella giggles, running her fingers through my sticky mess. I take her nipple between my teeth and pull. Bella squirms and laughs. She hugs me, pulling my body against hers. "I love you," she whispers into my ear. "Go take a fucking shower so you can make love to your wife." "You don't mind? You're not jealous?" I play with her, lifting off her body and kissing her lips before I step away from the bed. Bella laughs, slipping beneath the covers. "I'm the only person stupid enough to marry you, Fuckward." "Nah, all the bitches love me." I drop my pants to the floor and walk into the bathroom to Bella mumbling shit under her breath. I'm washing my hair, tooth brush in my mouth and soap in my eyes. The water is coming down on my back, I might be singing what I wasn't expecting is my crazy pregnant wife opening the shower curtain and pulling on my Johnson. I might have spit toothpaste in her face. She scared me, it's her fucking fault. Then Bella is on her knees and I'm in her mouth. It's hard to rinse shampoo from your hair when you're getting sucked off. My knees are unstable, shampoo is in my eyes and I swallowed a little bit of toothpaste suds, but my hand is in her hair and I'm loving her lips wrapped around my dick. It was a pleasant surprise. I lean back against the shower wall, slowly thrusting my hips towards her face. Bella is looking up at me with her dark browns, circling her tongue around the head of my length. I look up towards the ceiling and close my eyes; Bella works magic with her mouth and sends a chill up my spine. She touches my balls, but only enough to drive me fucking wild.
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My dick hardens and pulsates but I'm no where near done. Her hands are now on my hips; Bella slips my dick from between her lips and licks up my shaft as she makes eye contact with me. She kisses the tip, licks between the slit and stands to her feet. I'm left breathless; my chest is heaving up and down. The bathroom is full of steam, leaving it muggy and humid. Bella's cheeks are red and I can feel that mine most likely match hers. "If you buy me a mini-van, that will never happen again." Bella giggles into my ear before stepping out of the shower. I'm not sure if I should get out and fuck her or slap her I'm down for both. Her ass looks like it's in need of a nice slap. As quickly as I can, I rinse the rest of the shampoo from my hair and re-brush my teeth. After shutting the water off, I dry myself off and go back into the bedroom with a towel around my waist. Bella is on her side in bed, watching TV. "Want to have sex?" I ask, standing beside her side of the bed. "Nah." She yawns, turning off the TV and pulling the blankets up to her shoulders. I know she's kidding, she has to be Bella yawns, reaching over to flip off her lamp. "Goodnight, Edward." I'm left in the dark. I stand there for a couple of seconds, waiting for her to say she's just kidding. She doesn't; instead, she snores. "Smella?" "Smella?" "Smella!" Nothing. I shake her shoulder, and put my ear right up to her mouth to make sure she isn't fucking with me. Her breathing is even and her snoring seems to be authentic. I shake her a few more times but her eyes don't even flutter.
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My dick is sad. I mumble shit under my breath, putting on a pair of flannel pajamas. I can't believe she gave me a half-blowy in the shower and fell asleep when I came out for the real deal. I've been beating her away with a stick for the last couple of months and the one time I want some, she falls asleep? I give her a dirty look, getting into bed beside her. I take the remote, and I'm not quiet or subtle with my movements. I want her to wake up and now I'm pissed. I flip through the channels, grumbling like an old man. My arms are crossed over my chest; I steal the blankets away from her and place two pillows between us. I think I hear her laugh, but I'm not sure. "Don't cross these pillows, Bella, you're not welcome on my side," I say, despite her snoring. If she's smart, she'll hear me in her dreams. After a while I'm over it; watching Black Gold and playing Angry Birds on my phone. I'm ready to throw the motherfucker across the room when Bella rolls over and looks up at me with a huge cheese eating grin across her face. "Don't cross the pillows," I warn, ready to snap my phone in two. I hate the green toucan birds. Bella reaches over the pillows and touches my stomach. I carefully remove her hand and throw it back onto her side of the bed. "You're being a baby," she sing-songs. "My side." I point to my side of the pillows. ".your side." I point to her side. Bella throws the pillows onto the floor. I hold my hand out and push her face away as she tries to come closer. "What part of 'not fucking welcome' don't you understand?" She bites my pinky and jumps onto my lap in my moment of weakness. "You're so sexy," Bella coos in my ear. "Your tattoo makes me so hot." "Everything makes you hot, Smella. You're insatiable."
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"Love me," she says, pulling down the front of my pajamas. "No." "Love me." "No." "Love me!" she screams. "Fine." I fill her with my cock. . . . I ended up loving Bella multiple times, all night long. She is a nutty bitch, but she's my nutty bitch and I fucking love her for it. My dick might be out of commission for the next couple of days, but she keeps things interesting. The kid woke up around nine and Emmett has the day off work. I'm on call but don't expect to be called in, Tyler is coming over tonight and we're going to get drunk. It's a Tuesday; fuck it, it's twelve o'clock somewhere. That didn't make any sense. I get out of bed and my back cracks. My arms are sore and my dick is wheezing. Bella took it last night. I fucked her good; giving her upside down dick, sideways dick, and I'm pretty sure I spun her on my dick. Pregnant chicks are crazy. My pregnant chick is fucking crazy. I drag my ass towards the bathroom, in the mirror I can see what looks like the beginning of a black eye and I have hickies all over my neck. My lips are swollen and I have scratch marks along my shoulders.
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Bella was in a special kind of mood last night. After a quick shower, I dress in a pair of jeans and an old Nirvana band-tee. My entire family is up, it's past eleven they've been up. Rosalie and Harlie are back. The kids are playing in the living room. Bella, Rose and Emmett are sitting in the dining room. I kiss the top of Bella's head, say my hello's to the rest of the family and grab some left over Chinese food from the fridge. "Are those hickies? What are you, twelve?" Rosalie laughs. Bella blushes, smacking her arm. Emmett is giving me a look, but what can he say? Fuck him. "Tyler is coming over tonight, I was thinking about calling Gabe and Ester," I mumble, slurping noodles into my mouth. "Yeah, fine," Bella agrees easily. "Can I invite Garrett?" Rosalie asks. Emmett and I share a brief look, but I agree immediately. I'm trying to be Switzerland in this fucking situation. Garrett is an OK person; he has never done anything to me. Doesn't mean I won't fuck him up if I have to, or if he gets jumpy with Emmett when he tries to get his woman back. As much as it would hurt me, I would break his face in the name of 'Love.' "You should call Angie, Emmy Bear," Bella suggests. "Yeah, Emmy Bear, you should call Angie," Rosalie mocks in sarcastic tone. He turns red, and looks upset but doesn't lash out at his sister or Rosalie. Instead, he pushes the kitchen table chair back and asks me if I want to go to the store with him. "Sure," I say, while chewing on my food and giving Bella the 'Why in the fuck did you say that?' look. "Sorry," she mumbles under her breath. "What the fuck?" Rosalie flips, scooting her chair back. "What the hell is going on
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with him, Edward?" "I don't know," I lie. She stands closer to me, searching my face. I've know Rose for a long time, she can tell when I'm lying and I'm fucking lying. "You're lying to me." I look over Rosalie's shoulder, hoping that Bella will come to my rescue, but she's on the floor with the babies. "Is he leaving her? Would he really do that? After all of this, he would leave her?" Rosalie presses, ambushing me in the kitchen. "I don't know, Rosalie. You have to talk to Emmett." "Liar," she quietly accuses. "What does he expect from me?" Rosalie looks hurt and confused. Not necessarily vulnerable, she never has her guard completely down, but Emmett has the ability to leave her defenseless; even more so since Harlie. "He loves you, Rosie," I tell her, we both watch Bella play with the kids. Rosalie laughs, shaking her head. "If he loved me he wouldn't have married her when I asked him not to." "You never told him not to marry her." "Not in so many words. I was pregnant with his daughter for fuck sakes, how much more clear did I have to be than that?" I don't have a answer for her; she's right. We've always been accepting of Angela, but Emmett was wrong for marrying her. It's a fucked up situation, and one that Emmett brought upon himself. Unfortunately, Rosalie and Harlie are suffering because of his bad choices. I don't blame Rose for being hesitant, how can she ever fucking trust him again? Emmett walks out from the hallway, he asks me if I'm ready to go and I tell him yes. He picks Harlie up from the floor and throws her up into the air, repeating the toss three more times before he puts her down onto the floor with Gunner and Bella. "I love you," I tell Bella, pulling her head back and kissing her lips. "I'll be back;
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do you need anything, Baby?" She shakes her head no and lifts Gunner to hand him to me. I kiss the side of his fat face and blow raspberries into his neck. Goochie slobbers on my shirt and scratches my eyes. I put him back on the floor. Then he crawls. Just like that, he crawls. "Oh my God!" Bella screams, running around the living room looking for our Flip video camera. I simplify shit and record him with my cell phone. Everyone is clapping, I think Bella is crying but me, I'm just proud. He isn't that great of a crawler, give him a few hours and he'll be a little bad ass though. He's my child, destined for motherfucking greatness. Just look at him, all fat and round with a Mohawk. Most babies can't pull off the Mohawk without looking like little wannabe douche bags, but my kid isn't most babies. He's a fuckawesome crawler with even better hair. Just like his Daddy. Gunner crawls through the kitchen, getting a kick out of his new ability to move. He reaches for a light socket. We all scream, "No!" simultaneously and run towards his direction. Rosalie trips over Harlie and Gunner gets scared because we're all yelling at him. Both babies start to cry, and I decide that this is a perfect time to leave the house. I kiss the wife, I kiss the kid and the niece and we're out. Emmett and I don't talk about Rosalie or Angela on the way to the store. He talks about work and he talks about Harlie, but that's it. At the grocery store, we stock up on beer, steaks, and the largest potatoes they have. At the bakery they have these blueberry muffins that smell so fucking good, I can't help but buy a pack. Everything is sold in bulk, and I want to buy everything. On every corner there are little stands with samples of food. Emmett and I try everything and by the time we leave the store we're full and we have bought more than we came for.
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Shut the fuck up, our room needed a new TV. "Should I invite Angela?" Emmett asks on the drive home. "I don't know that's your call." "I can't avoid her, but what if she can tell by looking at me?" I look over at him, unsure about what he means. "Tell what?" "That I can't be married to her any more." "You can't?" I almost want to laugh at him. This entire ordeal is so fucked up, he should have known better. She made him tacos after sex he was slightly blinded by Cupid's fucking arrow. "Edward, I fucked up." No, shit, dick-wad. . . . "What time are they getting here?" With a cigarette in my lips and barbeque tongs in my hand, I flip the steaks over with squinted eyes. "What was that, Baby?" "Your friends, when are they coming over?" When all of the steaks are turned, I shut the lid on the barbeque and turn towards Smella. She is all kinds of fucking beautiful, taking my breath away and shit. She took the time to wash and straighten her elbow length hair today; calf length black leggings, black tank-top with a cut-up Hole band-tee over it and our growing baby. She even put on some make-up, and her lips are sparkling cherry in the setting sun. I take another hit from my cigarette before tossing it into the can and exhaling the smoke away from my lady. Bella is sitting down on one of our lounge chairs, picking
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at something on her black flats. I go to her, kneeling down and kissing her neck. "They should be on their way, Baby," I mumble against her warm skin. Bella giggles, wrapping her arms around my neck. She kisses the spot right behind my ear, it feels so good so fucking good. After I've kissed off all of her lips gloss, I lift her shirt and place my ear over her tummy. It sounds like the ocean; I can hear Bella's heartbeat and a lot of swooshing. "I love you, Smella," I admit, closing my eyes and listening. She runs her hands through my hair, tickling the back of my neck. "You better." She giggles. "Gross, get a room." I open my eyes, and kiss the top of Bella's tummy before I stand and shake hands with Tyler. Bella pops up beside me; Tyler hugs and spins her before setting her back down on her feet. I feel like punching him, but that's pretty normal. "I'll get you guys a beer," Bella says before stepping into the house. "Keep you hands off of my wife, motherfucker." I square up, ready to bust heads well, just one head. Tyler adjusts his flat-billed NY hat, pulls on his black Famous Stars and Straps shirt and pulls out the cigarette that was hanging from his right ear. "Have you noticed how good Bella's vagina looks lately? Does she let you see it, because it's so fucking pretty." Tyler holds his hand over the end of the cigarette while he lights it. I don't know why I put up with it. If this were anyone else, they'd be dead already and I'd be contemplating on where to dump the body. Shit is different with Tyler, he dishes as well as I give this is our friendship, and I really fucking need it. Bella comes out with our beer a few minutes later. She isn't wearing her flats anymore, but my un-laced boots instead. She hands us our bottle before flopping back down on the lounge chair. Bella looks funny, Tyler and I laugh.
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"What's so funny?" she snips, drinking from her water bottle. Tyler fucks with her hair and sits down in the chair beside her. Rosalie and Emmett come out and sit with us. The kids are down; Bella says that she gave Gunner a dose of Motrin. Tyler laughs at her honesty, I'm not surprised. I also hope he sleeps through most of the night. The five off us fall into a comfortable conversation about nothing important. I tease Tyler about looking at old vagina all day, Emmett laughs he comes back about sticking objects up both Rosalie's and Bella's. Shuts us right the fuck up. All at once, Gabe, Ester and Garrett show up. I meet Gabe in the living room, shaking hands before he brings it in for a hug. He is dressed as he usually is; buttoned up flannel, Dickies perfectly creased with his hair tightly slicked back. He holds a forty in a brown paper bag, he just looks typical. I lead them out to the back yard; food is ready, we decide to eat outside. Shit is going smoothly for a while. I can fell the tension between Emmett, Garrett, and Rosalie but they all seem to be behaving themselves. "Edward, you're going to be, what, thirty this year?" Tyler asks with a vindictive smirk. "No, dick, I just turned twenty-nine. I'll be thirty next year." I cut my steak with a little more force. Hopefully my arm muscles are showing off. Tyler winks at Bella before shoveling backed potato into his mouth. "You're getting old, family man and shit." "What's your point motherfucker?" Bella giggles. "Don't talk like that, Edward. Act your age." Tyler says between laughing. Bella has her face turned away from me. Emmett isn't even trying to hide the hilarity he finds in this. Garrett, he's afraid of me so he is straight faced, but Rosalie is beat fucking red. "You're such a douche bag," I whisper towards Tyler.
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"Dude, you can't say 'douche-bag' anymore. You're a dad, you're a husband, it's time to give up the cool guy jeans and slip into some brown loafers." I drop my fork. Everyone dies in a roar of laughter. "You're six months younger than me, asshole!" "Yeah, but you have two kids. That easily makes you at least ten years older. You're going to get grey hair and shit pretty soon, but don't you worry about Bella's hoo-ha, I'll take care of it for you." He takes a bite of his steak. Bella puts her hand on my back; Gabe is laughing, he's a gang member, I feel like I should be proving my masculinity to him or he should at least have my back and shoot Tyler for me. "Whatever, you smell like pussy," Tyler turns a little bit red, so I continue, "the dirty kind." "Don't get upset because you're getting old, Edward." "Don't get mad because you're a vagina doctor." "I deliver life!" "I save lives, motherfucker!" I take a deep breath, knowing that this is Tyler. He's a prick and he does this shit on purpose. A lot like Bella, he is prototype. We're the same, and it's fucked up. "There is nothing wrong with being a Gynecologist, you fuck," Tyler spits. "You're right, the only drawback is that you go home smelling like fish." "You're pissed because you're old." I shrug my shoulders; Bella rubs my back a little harder. "Whatever, you're upset because you have permanent vagina under your nails." Tyler and I stare at each other; neither one of us backing down first, then we both start to laugh, pound fists and finish our dinner in peace.
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We're eating, and shit is going good. My girl is rubbing my back; Tyler is shutting the fuck up. Gabe shows me his new tattoos and the kids are still sleeping. We all fly through a couple of beers, Bella has actually made it through the entire day with out spilling her guts, and we all drink another beer in celebration. Before I truly understand what the hell is going on around me, I'm drunk and Rosalie is crying. The doorbell is ringing and when Gabe is kind enough to answer the door, it's Angela. There is a lot of back and forth: Angela accusing Emmett of cheating on her with Rosalie. Rosalie screaming in Angela's face, babies are now crying. Rosalie explaining to Garrett that Angela is a fucking psycho. Emmett asks Angela to go wait in the room and Angela threatens Rosalie. Ester threatens Angela; Angela shuts the fuck up and says sorry. Angela starts to cry; she misses Emmett, she wants him to come home Emmett asks her again to please go wait in the room. Bella has Gunner, Tyler takes Gunner outside, Bella has Harlie, and Gabe takes Harlie outside. My son and my niece are outside with a gang member and a vagina doctor. Go fucking figure. "Angela, shut the fuck up and get into the room." Emmett is standing in front of Angie. She's hurt and justifiably so, but Emmett is right. She needs to get away from Rosalie before she gets hurt. Angela wipes her tears and walks away, Rosalie leaves her with some smart-ass comment I don't bother catching. I sit down on the recliner and bring Bella down onto my lap. Rosalie is asking Garrett to wait for her at home; he is reluctant but isn't much of a fighter and eventually gives up. Ester excuses herself, going out into the back yard with the kids. Bella whispers in my ear that we should go too, but when we motion to stand, both Rosalie and Emmett tell us to sit down. "I want to know what is going on, Emmett," Rosalie demands, arms crossed and standing high. "I can't talk about this with Angela in the room, Rose." "Are you getting a divorce?" she whispers.
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"I don't know." And in traditional Rosalie fashion, instead of reacting like a normal person would, she picks up the throw pillow form the couch and continuously hits Emmett over the head with it. "I hate you!" she screams. "You ruin everything!" she yells. Everyone from the backyard runs in; Tyler grabs Rosalie and Gabe pushes Emmett towards the hallway where is wife is waiting for him. Bella helps Rose collect Harlie and her things. She leaves without another word, and Emmett takes off down to his room to deal with Angela. The rest of us go back outside and drink the rest of the beer. "Your family is fucking nuts." Tyler laughs. "I know we've always been this way," I agree. "I'm surprised you don't already have grey hair." "I'm surprised you can get the vagina smell off of your clothes." Bella sighs loudly, smacking us both beside the head. "God! Will you two shut up!" And because I'm me, and I always have to have the last word, I mumble under my breath, "Vagina doctors are pussies." . . . AN: I know, I know! I'm sorry this one was so late. I suck lately, and have had a hard time this week keeping up with my updates. I'm sorry. Thank you for keeping up with me. Anyways, a few words: the ladies over at TFFA, I see your reviews and I see your PM's. Hopefully I've replied to them, if I haven't, I'm a total bitch. I unfortunately do not FaceBook but I have heard and appreciate all of your rec's. Thank you so much. Good luck on your new site.
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FGB: Autism. Dew it! My OS Milk, was reviewed on The Fictionators (Squeee) my other fic True Love Way was reviewed and featured on PICffcorner blog by Mrs. White for their Love Between Love and Hate week. What did I read this week? Puddle Jumping by 107yearoldvigin, Heat of a Blue Flame by 107yearoldvirgin and Of Kith and Kin by Chicklette all are totally awesome and none of them need my rec, but I'm doing it anyways. Also read, "Boy next Door" By Taintedvile this one is by far one of my all time favorite fics ever. Don't forget that my Beta Jaime writes too. White Swan Lodge, it is fluffy and Jaime writes really good lemons. All stories can be found under my favorites. Thanks again, and there wasn't any sex in this chapter because my best friend Filia said people lose interest after sex in fics. Js. *Runs* Leave me some love, TB23

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Chapter 5
I do not own Twilight: I only make it badass. Characters belong to S. Meyer, which is a complete shame. Setting, plot, characteristics and history are mine. Please do not use without my permission. Crawl is fictional; if you are easily offended by Vagina Doctors, "It's a" or Halloween then this story is not for you. Please remember, this is only a story and any resemblance to true life is coincidence only. Lay it on me. My updates are all squirrelly, I know. I've received those few "Update or else!" tweets. The "You're still writing, right?" PMs. I apologize, but I've been extremely busy, and well, sometimes my writing is put on the back burner. But trust me when I say that all of the things I have been working on are delicious Winning Jaime and Unfie, best support team anyone could ask for. Thank you. Chapter 5 Four weeks later; October Edward "A Dodge Astro van?" "Yeah." "I don't freakin' think so, Edward." "Well, you fucked up the G-Wagon, Smella." I look at her from the corner for my eye; she's seething in her seat. The G-Wagon is officially dead. The insurance company came out a week after she crashed it, took some pictures and said they would be in contact. Three weeks later a tow truck shows up at the house to take the car to a mechanic. Meanwhile, I'm driving my Lincoln all over the place, four dollars a gallon, and Bella and Gunner are destroying the inside of my Range Rover. Long story short, the Mercedes isn't worth fixing and Bella needs a new car before
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she ruins mine. I swear to God it already smells like french fries. "You wouldn't do that to me," she says, as I pull out of our garage onto the street. "I'm not spending another hundred-grand on a truck you won't take care of." Usually this would be the point where I pull out a cigarette and light it so I could blow smoke in her face, but she's pregnant and Gunner is in the car so I can't. Bella mumbles obscenities under her breath; she places a hand on her growing stomach, leaning her head back against the seat. "And for the record," she begins. "You didn't spend one-hundred thousand on the wagon, I did." I laugh out loud, lifting and eyebrow to look at her. "Fine, you paid for most of it but don't throw it in my face." The corner of her mouth rises in small smirk. "And I'm not getting a mini van. I want an Escalade." I snort, then laugh then choke. Of course she does. Bella was distraught, to say the least, when we received the news about her dead G-Wagon. The insurance company didn't want to spend the money to fix the truck because it was cheaper to pay it off and give us a little for a down payment on a new car. I'm almost positive it's a pregnant chick thing, but she threw a fit and cried for three days. My reaction was the complete opposite, I'm glad it's gone. The G-Wagon turned into a real piece of shit. It smelled like french fries. I finally talked her into looking at other vehicles. I want my truck back, the Lincoln is cool but it's a fucking tank. We need an SUV; growing family and shit. Bella tried talking me into another G-Wagon, but I think we need something a little sturdier. A Chevy Suburban came to mind or a Ford Excursion but no, the priss wants a fucking Cadi. "Fine," I grumble, heading towards the direction of the closest Cadillac dealership. Shit around the house has been calm; Emmett has been staying with us for about eight weeks and I have more or less come to the conclusion that he is moving in permanently. He hasn't said anything but he isn't going anywhere either. Rosalie comes over quite often, usually leaving quickly because she and Emmett end up
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fighting. He hasn't officially left Angela, and Rosalie hasn't officially taken him back, but I think it's safe to say shit is heading in that direction. Not that either Garrett or Angela is happy about it. They wait on the sidelines while Emmett and Rosalie go back and forth. I understand though, Bella and I did the same shit with Jake and Tanya. Who am I to judge? I just sit back and watch Emmett beg for forgiveness and understanding while Rosalie beats him with whatever she can grab. Unfortunately for me, there hasn't been anymore Angela-Rosalie run-in's lately. Emmett does a pretty good job at keeping them away from one another. Angela comes over sometimes, and if I'm in a real dick mood, I'll call Rose and tell her to come over but they always seem to miss each other. It's a clusterfuck of a love triangle and I am so glad that I am not a part of it. "What about that one?" Bella points to the all black, 2012 Cadillac Escalade. It just looks expensive and I immediately feel the pinch in my wallet. Since we're out of the car, Bella is holding Gunner and I'm about to wig the fuck out, I smoke. I stand in silence for a few moments, taking in what is about to happen. I smile at my girl, make a face at the kid and take deep inhales from my cigarette. I can afford this, but I'm not as carefree with my money as I used to be. The economy is shit; even the Cullen's have been affected. I know, poor us. A grimy car salesman approaches my wife; I flick my cigarette butt out onto their car lot. It's disrespectful for him to approach her when I'm standing right here he thinks he's slick, he has another thing coming. "Edward, this is, Steven. He said that he can give us a good deal on the Escalade." Bella smiles up at me, already knowing by my facial expression that I'm not impressed with this douche bags faux-hawk and cheap suit. Apparently, neither is she. "I told him to speak with you." "What's up man, I'm Steven." He holds a hand out towards me; I stare at it for a moment before taking it in my grip and crushing his palm. A real mans' handshake. Steven tries to act unaffected by my muscle, but he's a pussy and it's written all over his red cheeks and sudden stutter. "Well, that's ugh some handshake,
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Edward." "What are you talking about?" I ask with scrunched eyebrows. Bella snorts and walks away, Steven looks at me with a confused expression. His stare is blank for a good twenty seconds and for a moment, I've wondered if he's ok. It was only a handshake, but by the way this guy is acting it's like he just saw Lady Gaga roll by with a bald Britney on her back. "Nothing let's just, do you want to look at the Escalade sir?" he stumbles. I run my hand through my hair; Bella is already at the truck looking through the window. How can I say no to her? Easily, I just never would. "Yeah, let's look at the damn thing." . . . "I love my new car!" Bella squeals through my car phone. "I'm glad, baby." I follow behind her, driving towards Tyler's. "No, Edward, I'm serious I fucking love it!" I can see her bouncing around, touching shit. Something will be broken by the time we get home. "Smella, pay attention to the fucking road." I laugh, stopping at the stop light. "I am!" Bella turns the stereo up on her truck; I can feel the bass from two cars back. "Can you hear that?" "Yeah, I can hear it." "Do my rims look shiny?" "Yes, baby." They look too fucking shiny; maybe I should have given her the Rover and gotten myself a new car. "Do I look badass?"
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"You look sexy as fuck." And that's no lie. "Good, because when we get home we're going to have sex." She giggles. "Planned sex, sounds like fun." Bella playfully gasps. "You bet your life it's fun." The light turns green, Bella pulls forward. "Baby, I love you more than my own fucking life, but get off the phone and pay attention to the road." "OK, love you. Bye." She hangs up; I can't help but to shake my head. "Your mommy is crazy, kid," I say to my son who is fast asleep. Bella makes me laugh, she thinks she's so gangster in her new Cadillac. I don't know what it is with her and these fucking SUV's but she refuses to drive a normal car. It's sexy; Bella has the perfect style for it Never typical, I won't ever forget how upset Jake was when Bella bought the G-Wagon. He thought it was irrational and that she was indulging. I thought it was great; originally a small town girl, moving to L.A. and buying a motherfucking Mercedes a G-Wagon at that. Classic. As much as it killed me to drop that much cash on a truck, it made her happy and that makes it all worth it I guess. A happy Bella hasn't been easy to come by lately; she isn't plagued by sickness anymore, but she has issues with her body changing and she finds it hard to keep up with the baby sometimes. I know she feels trapped. Not in the sense that she doesn't want to be a mother to our kid, or wife to me but this pregnancy wasn't planned. She wasn't expecting to spend eighteen straight months of her life knocked up. I can understand her exhaustion, and need for a fucking break. She is always at the house trying to keep up with what needs to be done at home, with Gunner, and now this new baby. I help where and when I can, but I cannot always be at home I have obligations with the hospital. Every once in a while I can move shifts around and work shit out with other doctors on staff but for the most part it's Bella who is home taking care of our lives; keeping our house in order. Kid fed.
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Life changes after you have a little man. Simple as that. We can't just up and leave whenever we feel like it anymore. We can't sleep in and stay in bed all day like we used to. When Gunner is up, we are up. I can see it wearing on Bella the purple under her eyes and the sluggish way she walks sometimes. Her body isn't her own, and it hasn't been for a while. I get it. Not to mention how disappointed she was when we came in for her sixteen week check-up and Tyler couldn't see the sex of the baby. The baby had its legs crossed and nothing we did helped. She drank ice cold water, orange juice she stood on her hands and knees for ten minutes but the baby wouldn't move from the crossed legged position. I suggested sex Tyler thought it was a terrible idea. He's a hater. I have a good feeling about today though. Bella is happy, she has her new truck and I'm positive we will find out the sex of our bambino. I bet you a hundred dollars it's a boy. "Keep your fingers crossed, Goochie. We want a boy," I whisper, parking in front of the Tyler's office. Bella is already out of the Escalade jumping up and down when Ty comes out to see what she got. He whistles at the rims, sits in the driver seat and turn the wheel like a fucking idiot. Why did my doppelganger have to be such a douche bag? "Nice ride, Edward." He smirks. "Fuck off, Tyler." I mumble, handing Gunner over to Bella. She lets him stand on the driver seat and hold onto the steering wheel. "Trying to compensate?" "It isn't mine, dick. It's Bella's." I snap back. Shit is always like this with him; he fucks with me until I blow up. Bastard.
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"Is it because your dick is small?" He laughs out loud, backing away when Bella takes a swing at his chest. "Don't talk shit, Tyler. Edward's wanker isn't small, I just like big trucks." She giggles towards the end. Tyler is loving this. "Did you just call his penis a 'wanker'?" Bella shuts and locks the door to her new monster and takes my hand. "Yeah, would you rather I call it by its name?" She winks and I'm done for. "Bella," I mumble, begging that she doesn't out me like that. Tyler stops at the front door to his office, his eyes wide with fucking curiosity. That motherfucker. "Wait, what? You named your cock, Bro?" "Don't act like you didn't." I'm holding Gooch in one arm, leaving the other open in case I deck this son-of-a-bitch. "I didn't," he says with raised eyebrows and a smug smirk. "My cock is only a cock; I never found a reason to name it." "Do you name all the gross pussy you look at all day?" I pass by, knowing he hates it when I bag on his job. "You smell like vagina by the way." I wave towards his receptionist, Riley, and make my way down towards the examination room. In the background, I hear Bella telling Tyler that my piece is named, Preston. She's such a traitor. "I just don't get it." "What the fuck is there to get, Ty? Shut the fuck up already." "Boys!" Bella covers Goochie's ears. "Watch your language. Shit!" I'm spinning on one of Tyler's stools; we've been here for a good forty-five minutes because Tyler doesn't understand why I named my Johnson, Preston. I don't fuckin know! I just did I don't have to explain shit to him, but apparently he thinks so. Brotherhood or some lame shit like that.
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In my opinion, Brotherhood refers more to being a good friend; watching over girlfriends, wives and families. Always having the others back in a time of fucking need. The rules of Brotherhood do not include revealing cock names. His book must be a different edition than mine. He got the foul vagina version. "Whatever, I'll never understand you. I don't even know why we're friends." Tyler helps Bella onto the examinations table, she lifts up her shirt and lies back. Him and I share a long look. "Oh, yeah now I remember." "That's it!" I stand; ready to stab him in the jaw with a stirrup. He flinches and starts to laugh; Bella grabs my hand and pulls me down next to her. She whispers that she needs me to be by her. She wants me to hold her hand, rub her face. "Be sweet," she tells me quietly. "Fine, but if he says one more thing I'm stabbing him." "Fine." Bella laughs softly. With Gunner in his car seat and Bella up on the table, Tyler gels up her stomach and I hold on tightly we're all waiting to see what the sex of the baby is. Boy! Boyboyboyboyboyboyboyboy! Dear Lord, Please! I don't need that kind of karma. Boy! Boy! Boy! When the ultrasound begins, Tyler takes notes on a bunch of other shit first. Like the size of the baby's head and length of the arms and legs. He tells us that the heart looks good the lungs seem to be forming well. He prints out a bunch of small pictures of Bella; she smiles and looks at the screen quietly. My heart is beating triple time and I'm looking for a penis. I don't see one. Then again, this is my department of expertise. I leave the birth giving, twat smelling job to Tyler. I do the cool shit. In case I haven't mentioned that before. "What do you think, B?" Tyler asks Bella. "I don't know," she whispers, listening to the tiny heartbeat. "And you, Cock-Face, what do you think?"
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I'll excuse the jab because I'm in my happy fucking place right now. "I'm hoping for a boy." "Ready to find out?" he asks genuinely, as my friend my best fucking friend. I nod and kiss Smella on the forehead, Gunner is asleep; he wouldn't understand any of this even if he was awake. It wasn't that fucking long ago we were here not finding out the sex of Gunny. It was a nice surprise, but I dig it this way too. Maybe our baby won't come home with out a name since we can plan ahead. Bella sits up on her elbows for a moment, trying to adjust herself on the table. Once she's up, Tyler circles her stomach until he tells us that we are looking between the babies legs. He laughs, then he snorts and mumbles, 'This should be good,' under his breath. Bella isn't crying, but I can tell that she is excited. The grip she has on my hand is tight, I try to pry a few of her fingers back but she won't lift. "Well" Tyler starts. "Well, what?" I say between gritted teeth. He looks at me and smiles, taking a few more snap shots of the baby. "This right here-" He points to the screen. "-is the sex." "And?" Bella practically squeaks. "And, your baby doesn't have a Preston." "Yay!" Bella claps, throwing her arms around my neck. "Check again," I manage to croak. "Check again, motherfucker." Tyler nods, laughing as he pushes the wand into Bella's stomach a little harder. She's going apeshit in my ear, talking about pierced ears and Bam-Bam pony tails, whatever the fuck that is. All I'm thinking is that I'm having a daughter and my life is officially over. I've done so many wrongs. "Edward, it's a girl, Bro. Congrats." Tyler points to the screen again, and I can see
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it our daughter's Scarlett. I immediately snap back, pulling down Bella's shit and crossing her legs. I'd tie those motherfuckers in a knot if I could but she isn't that flexible. Tyler and Bella are looking at me like I'm crazy, but our baby girl isn't coming out of Bella's tummy ever. I mean, what if she meets and falls in love with someone like me? No fucking way. No way! Not my daughter. Daughter. This is the part where I start to cry like a vagina doctor. . . . "A girl?" Emmett asks again, laughing at my rising blood pressure. Emmett is a cop, uncle to our children; we've got that on our side; guns and attack dogs. "What are you going to name her?" he asks, flipping the burgers on the barbeque. "I don't think we've really discussed names yet." Bella looks back at me; she's playing with Gunner in the grass. I'm drowning myself in beer, trying to figure out a way to put bars all around the house so my baby won't ever be hurt by the bad, mean world. Boys are different. Gunner, he's tough. He's a little badass, but when I think of girls, I think of Harlie and she is as delicate as they come. She is soft and smells good all of the time when Harlie drools it's cute, when Gunner drools its fucking gross, because he's a boy. He smells and he's dirty, I don't have to worry about much. My entire perspective on the world has changed again; if anyone is as bad to my
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girl as I was to Bella, I'll kill that motherfucker. What am I going to do? "Just don't make a habit out of this baby thing; before you know it you'll have six and then what?" Emmett laughs. I'm still lost in my own head. "Habit?" Bella says, the word rolling off her tongue nicely. "I kind of like that." "For a name?" I ask, sitting behind her and kissing the side of her neck. "Yeah, it's different but not Hollywood different." I pull Bella back between my legs, place my head on her shoulder and wrap my arms around her body. "I love you, Baby," I whisper, needing it to be said needing to hear it. "I love you too." Bella looks back at me, worry on her face. "Are you ok? If you don't like that name, it's all right." "I like it." I smile, kissing the spot behind her ear and at the corner of her jaw. "Good, because I like it too." Bella and I sit in the grass with the baby for a while. Emmett makes dinner but when Angela shows up unexpected, he leaves with her, back to their place swearing that tonight is the night he is finally going to tell her it's over. Make it legit. He wants to work shit out with Rose. I clean up the kitchen while Bella gets Gunner into bed. My thoughts won't stop; it always seems that right when you think you have everything figured out, something comes along to fuck it up. I'm grateful for my kid, I love her already but I can't stop thinking about what a bad person I was before. Bella didn't have a father around to defend her from me. She had Emmett, but it's not the same. It's stupid to be worrying about this. Bella and I are good. We are in a stable place, moving along at a normal rate. People grown up, they get married and have kids. The past is that past no matter how ugly it was. I'm going to have a fucking daughter. Habit.
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I swear on a stack of bibles nothing will ever hurt her. Ever. "What's the matter, Fuckward?" Bella whispers, pulling me towards her by the belt loop on my jeans. I pick her up and set her on the kitchen counter, placing myself between her legs. Kissing up her neck, I push her legs open wider. "Nothing, baby, I just need to touch you." "Unexpected sex, so exciting," she teases, pulling on the back of my hair. "Is the baby in bed?" I ask, pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it to the floor. She nods, unbuckling my jeans; her fingers always brushing over her name that scars my body. "Guest room?" I ask, pulling her black leggings down, and off her feet. I scoot her ass toward the edge of the granite countertop, her skin screeches in protest. I unhook her bra, licking her nipple before biting on her bottom lip. "No, right here." She isn't wearing any panties; her center is open and waiting for me to touch. She's so sensitive; something that happens during pregnancy. When I drop to my knees and prop her right foot onto my shoulder, Bella's practically glows. And when I blow over her candy, she purrs. I kiss the inside of her thigh, loving the way her body contracts. Her chest heaves up and down, her hand grips and loosens in my hair. Bella's foot pushes onto my shoulder, but I don't go anywhere. She doesn't want me to. She wants me closer, needs me closer. My tongue slides between her folds, her back arches forward. With every single touch meaning something, I take her clit between my teeth and push two fingers into her entrance; she screams. In and out, my fingers move slowly tortuously slow. I watch them glisten when they slide out and as they're grabbed by her body when I push in. Her eyes are closed and her head has fallen back. Cheeks flushed. I put my mouth back on her; she always tastes like sugar. Like apples.
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I open her legs wider, kissing her heat deeper, pushing my fingers harder. Bella falls back onto her elbows; she's crying she's almost there. Just a little more. Touch her a little softer. "Edward. Edward Edward!" she whispers over and over. Music to my fucking ears. I want to feel it on my mouth. I want to feel her tremble and shake and hear with my ears that she loves me over and over while she tries to breathe, so I know that she's still here. Me and her. Bella is pulling my hair and it hurts so fucking good. I'm kissing the insides if her thighs again, watching her sex sparkle with a mix of her and me. My fingers are still inside of her, but I stand and make my way up her body with my lips. "Ready for me, baby?" I ask, already knowing she is. "Yes, yes, yes," she chants, hips circling on my hand. I rub my dick a few times, staring at my hand that is covered in her love. When she can't hold it back anymore and she starts to come, I replace my fingers with my length and pound into her forcefully. I thrust harshly, and she loves it. She loves it dirty. Always has. Because some shit never changes. Bella bites down on my collarbone, moaning, crying and whimpering as she comes. My knees hit the kitchen cabinets as I stroke into her. I'm reminded of why I love this person so fucking much. She possesses my heart, has my soul she's fucking everything to me. Not everyone understands. The foot that was pressed into my shoulder earlier is replaced with her knee. I push it back, falling deeper into her love. She holds onto my hips the best that she can, tells me how much she loves me how fucking good I feel.
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"No one fuck, only you. I swear, only you," she mumbles between moans. This is exactly what I needed; reassurance. When I come, I come gripping onto her arms and thighs, my face buried in her chest. We're sweaty and sticky the kitchen counter needs to be sterilized and I'm pretty sure the baby in her stomach felt all of that, but this is us, and yeah, everything will be alright. . . . Halloween "What the fuck, Bella?" "Edward, he's a baby, leave it alone." "I think he looks adorable." "Oh, that's cool, Alice, because no one asked you." My sister takes a swipe at my arm; I duck and dodge. Halloween is a little bit different this year. We're having a party like we normally do, but I want to take Gunner trick-or-treating. Wifey says it's unnecessary, that he is too young. Rosalie seems to agree with her, but Emmett and I have other plans. It's Harlie and Gunner's first Halloween; they're not missing it because they're too young. That's dumb. But his costume won't fucking work. "Where was I when you bought this?" I mumble, looking through his closet for his real costume because there is no fucking way that the one he is wearing isn't a joke. Bella is punking me or some shit. "Edward! Shut up, this is his costume and he looks so cute!" Bella and Alice are taking pictures and high pitch laughing/squealing how cute he looks.
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He looks cute For a sissy boy. "He's a fucking teddy bear!" I yell, feeling bad for the boy. Gunner is covered in brown fur. He has ears, paws a big red bow around his neck. It's despicable. "He likes it," Alice snaps at me. "Because he doesn't know any better." I rip off one of his paws; Bella steps on my foot and grabs it back. Gunner starts to cry. "Look what you did," Bella coos, picking up the baby and holding him to her chest. I mouth that I'm sorry to him and pat his head. "Get out Alice; he's afraid of your wig." I laugh, fucking with her. "What are you anyways, you look weird." "Nikki Minaj at the Grammy's." She spins, covered in leopard print, topped with a weird blonde wig. "Jasper is supposed to be Eminem but he refused to shave his head and dye his hair brown so he looks more like a white gang member than anything else it's kind of odd." The three of us laugh while we walk down the stairs. I see Jasper, and my sister is right, he looks ethnically confused. Rosalie and Harlie are fairies, Emmett is humongous version of Antoine Dodson; wife beater and red bandanna included. I kept it simple; in fact, I don't really know what I am. Amish maybe? I have a white button up on, black jeans, black top hat and an alligator around my neck. I asked Bella what I'm, supposed to be, she only mumbled something about a magazine cover and a Greek God. I don't get it. But Bella said to put it on, so I listened. She looks pretty cool, but kept it easy by wearing a beige colored maternity dress that says 'Honey Pot' across her tummy. Her make-up is done nicely and her hair is up and curly. Honeycomb necklace; she's Gunners honey. We're all in the kitchen, throwing a few back with Emmett and Jasper. My sister is able to control her bitchtastic behavior long enough to actually start a real conversation with Bella and Rosalie. The babies are playing on the ground with
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some toys, and everything is cool. Little by little friends from work show up. Emmett invited a few of the guys from the force, Rosalie invited Garrett. My house is full and the doorbell starts to ring, Bella tells me I'm in charge of candy for a while so I have to answer the door "What are you?" This little shit dressed as some kind of zombie doctor asks me. He's a dick. "I'm your worst fucking nightmare, kid. What the fuck are you again ,doctor? Your costume sucks!" I throw some candy in his bag and scare him away. "Edward! You can't talk to the kids like that!" Bella yells from the kitchen. I mumble an unapologetic apology and do it again the next time a twelve year old dressed as Iron Man asks me what I am. This happens about four times before an angry mother tries to rip off my face for cussing at her kid and Alice has to take over the door. Tyler shows up not long after I've been booted from candy service. Not to my fucking surprise, he is dressed in the same exact thing as I am. "It's way different, bro. Look at how much better my hat is than yours." He laughs, arm over his receptionist's shoulder. "It's the same fucking hat." "No way, mine is better." Bella and Rosalie are snickering in the kitchen, this shit was planned. By ten, I'm bored. Gunner is still awake and I'm still bitter that he didn't get to go trick-or-treating. I pick him up and set him in my lap. His face is kind of red from the costume, a little bit sweaty. "Let me take this shit off." I pull off the headpiece and slick his hair up into its Mohawk. It's getting long; maybe tomorrow I'll shave the sides. Gunner could care less; he's sucking on his green block and is in baby heaven. "Did he get a lot of candy?" Tyler stumbles over.
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"No, Bella said he was too young." Ty gasps in horror, "For candy? Dude, there is still time, let's go now." I look around for Smella, she's in the kitchen chatting it up with some girls who work with Alice. We could sneak out, she'd never know. "But don't put that teddy head back on him. Here" Tyler unties the red bow. "tie this around his head. Now he's Rambo." Tyler holds Gunner while I carefully sneak the stroller out of the closet. I grab a jacket in case it gets cold and snag Harlie because that shit just isn't fair. I let Emmett in on our secret, he's in. I'm even smart enough to grab the camera off of the counter. Quietly Emmett, Tyler, the babies and I sneak out of the front door and make a b-line for the house next door when we hit the driveway. There aren't many people out anymore, it's pretty late but my kid will not be left out. "Here Tyler, take a picture when Gunner says trick-or-treat." I hand him the camera. "He doesn't talk." He looks at me with scrunched eyebrows. "Just take the picture." I adjust Gunner's Rambo tie around his head, straighten out his teddy bear body and wish that he had a machine gun or something because that would be fucking awesome. Emmett follows with Harlie, and together we ring the doorbell. "Trick-or-treat!" Em and I yell when the lady opens the door. Harlie starts to cry and I'm pretty sure Gunner just spit up all over my alligator Tyler takes the picture. Fucking perfect. . . . AN/ I'll try to keep this short. Let me apologize again for my untimely
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updates. I'm writing three of these bad boys simultaneously and I get overwhelmed and put behind. Good news is that McFearless is one chapter away from being complete and Aha Shake is about half done. Remember when I said those were my priorities? I don't think I will ever write three fics at once ever again. So thanks again for reading. I appreciate every single word that you guys leave for me. Even the one I got last week that went something like this "It's hard to believe they graduated high school much less medical school" quack! *Shakes head* Some people still just don't get it. But we do. UNF4Rob here - Hijacking this A/N to let y'all know that myself and a few others formed a fandom fundraiser for the Tsunami victims and we are putting together a compilation of o/s from some amazing fandom authors. We were able to sign up over 75 authors within the first 10 hrs of being up and we are truly humbled and thrilled at the way every one has rallied for the cause. Makes me very proud to be a part of this fandom. You can follow us on twittah (at)fandom4tsunami and please visit our blog http:/ fandomfightstsunami . com for ways that you can contribute or sign up to write a O/S of your own. Thank you! Unfie xoxo TB23

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Chapter 6
I do not own Twilight, I only make it badass. Characters belong to S. Meyers, which is a complete shame. Setting, plot, characteristics and history are mine. Please do not use without my permission. Crawl is fictional; if you are easily offended by then this story is not for you. Please remember, this is only a story and any semblance to true life is coincidence only. I don't have much to say, I know that the chapters have been kind of comical up to this point, and that's not completely over it's just, well yeah. Also, this was supposed to be up on Thursday but we experienced some "technical" difficulties so blame me, and I am sorry with the delay in the update. Jaime and Unfie are my betas. Crawl Chapter 6 December (6 weeks since Halloween) Bpov Change is not anything that is new to me. I've dealt with it my entire life, and it isn't something I am afraid of. In fact, most of the time I welcome change with open arms. There are always exceptions, like when my mom took off on my brother and me. But more often than not, change results into something wonderful, like the birth of my son. I can always pin point when something has changed; one day my mother lived with us, and the next day she didn't. She irreversibly changed my life by leaving me, maybe in more ways than we knew. My dad, he was diagnosed with cancer and two years later he was dead. Emmett
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and I were left on our own, and nothing was ever the same. I met Edward during a college class in June. It took an hour block to severely shift the track my life was originally on. The impact and the change Edward inflicted upon me is both heavenly and devastating. One minute Jake was alive, the next he wasn't. There was a nine-month wait between the conception of Gunner and his birth. The point being, I have always been able to pinpoint the exact moment something in my life changed. If there has been a event in my life that has an impression on what type of person I am today, I can tell you what caused the change: I wore boy shoes in the third grade because my mother took off on our family. Emmett and I lived alone because my father died. The most significant relationship in my life was in result of meeting a green-eyed boy during a class in June. I was able to finally love that boy fully when Jake died. That green-eyed boy and I created the most precious baby in the world. One day, two years, an hour, a minute nine months, I have the time-lines memorized. But this this is gradual and I cannot, for the life of me, pinpoint when it started. I can't even remember when exactly I began to feel like this. Did I just wake up one morning and decide that I am a terrible mom? I don't recall there being a moment where I had some stupid fucking breakdown and decided I couldn't love my unborn child enough. If I try really hard, during or around Halloween, I remember something at the edges tugging. I know I was panicked in the beginning, when I first found out I was pregnant but that was more a fear about having two babies so close to one another. Not this. This is the worst kind of change. This this makes me a terrible person. . .
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. "Is it normal, that I feel this way?" I'm rubbing my huge stomach, trying to feel something. Edward looks down at me where I sit on the floor. He is getting ready for work; pulling a shirt over his head and slipping his feet into his faded green chucks. He doesn't seem to be worried, but I've been feeling odd and I can't explain it other than being, off. I've been anxious since the moment I found out I was pregnant again. Terrified that I couldn't possibly love another baby as much as I do Gunner, but this is different. This is strange. "I don't know, baby," Edward whispers, running his fingers through his hair and kneeling down in front of me. He touches my tummy, looking directly into my eyes. "Bella, maybe you should do something today. Go somewhere; get out of the house for a while." His tone is strong; Edward is always authoritative when he speaks, even to me, but he knows he is pressing buttons I don't want to deal with. I haven't been the easiest person to be around the last couple of months. I've been overly emotional and testy. Edward and I fight; everything triggers my anger, my sadness my unease. "Oh, yeah," I say, struggling to stand. He ends up having to help me, but once I'm on my feet I push him away. "And what exactly should I do, Edward? Drag Gunner around when I can't even lift him out of his crib anymore? I can't push a cart, I can hardly drive." I try not to cry, but the tears spill anyways. I feel fucking worthless, and the bigger I get the worse it gets. Edward follows me out of the bedroom. Gunner is still sleeping and he will have to get him up for me before he leaves for the hospital, but not until he absolutely has to leave; I need my mornings, at least. I'm still crying, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror that hangs on our wall. It makes things worse. I hate the way I look. I'm fat, bloated, and my ankles and legs are constantly swollen. I want to feel normal again, I want to feel like myself and have my body back. I don't want to be pregnant anymore. "Bella, baby," Edward says trying to get my attention. He knows better than to touch me when I'm this angry. Unfortunately, we've had this argument a few times this week. "I didn't mean to fucking upset you."
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I laugh, wiping the stupid tears away. "Well, you did," I say, grabbing the pot of coffee I made this morning and pouring myself a cup. Edward takes it away and shatters the coffee cup in the sink by throwing it. "You know you can't have it," he says, walking past me in the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water out of the fringe. The shattered cup causes me to jump, but I only let it effect me for a moment. One cup of coffee won't hurt anything. One cup. So, I grab another out of the cupboard and pour myself a second cup, this time out of spite. Edward takes it again, only this time he pours it down the sink and gently places the cup on the counter. Now it's a game. I take another clean coffee cup, he takes it away and by the fourth cup he is breaking them again and I am screaming. Edward gives up, pushes me away and breaks all of the coffee mugs. The baby is crying, I'm screaming and Edward is leaving. Just another morning, I think, cleaning the broken glass shards from the floor. . . . "I shouldn't have done it, I'm sorry," he says, sounding sincerely remorseful. I'm cleaning off Gunner's face, trying to get the peanut butter off of his cheeks. It's in his hair. He's going to need a bath before he takes a nap. Great. "I know, I'm sorry too," I say, a little more distracted, not sounding as genuine as Edward does. "I hate fighting with you, but since Halloween" he trails off. "I know." I roll my eyes, blowing the stray hairs out of my face. The peanut butter is everywhere; Gunner is turning his head away from me and holding the phone between my cheek and shoulder isn't helping the situation. "Edward, I have to go." I hang up the phone, dropping it onto the kitchen table. I stare at Goochie for a minute or two. He's such an innocent little one, covered in his lunch. I don't know what's wrong with me, it's like something has snapped and I cannot get myself back into place. I feel guilty about being so short with Edward. I feel terrible about this morning. I hate sending him to work mad; it isn't a good
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feeling. And we were doing so well. "I'm a bad mommy," I say to Gunner, but he doesn't understand. I think about calling Edward back, but I don't. I don't have energy for words. The peanut butter I just cleaned off Gunner's hands was easily replaced by peanut butter he had smeared on his tray, which means the tray needs to be cleaned too. The sink is full of dishes. The dishwasher is full but I forgot to run it. I can't put the dishes inside the sink into the dishwasher until the dishes in the dishwasher are clean. But then I would need to put those clean dishes away first before I did anything. All of that so I can clean off the highchair tray. I push myself up from the chair; Gunner is clapping his dirty hands in my face, laughing. I try to play along with him, but I'm exhausted and my heart isn't in it. I don't think he notices. He does notice when I cry because there are breadcrumbs all over the floor, and now on the bottom of my feet. After placing Gooch down in front of his toys in the living room, I start with the dishwasher. Reaching up in the pantry for the dish washing liquid proves to be difficult. I can't get as I high on my tippy toes as I could before as I could last fucking week. If I could just take this stomach off for one day, I could get everything done. Edward is right; I should call and ask for help. His mom would be here in a heartbeat if I asked. Rosalie would understand; she would work things around in her schedule to help me during the day. I'm even sure Alice would help. But asking for help to do things around my house, for my kid and husband, makes me feel insufficient and defeated. I'm the mom, I'm the wife I can do this shit on my own. If the dish washing liquid wasn't so high. I push a chair over to the pantry but I don't trust the chair not to fall over or scoot under my weight. Frustrated, I kick the chair across the kitchen and push down the liquid with the broomstick. Of course, the Ajax comes down with it, and now I have powdered bleach all over the pantry floor, not to mention I've covered myself. Stepping through the Ajax, I pick up the dish washing liquid and start the dishwasher. I'm already out of breath and beginning to cramp. The last time I saw Tyler, two weeks ago at my twenty-eight week check-up, he made me promise to hang low. I would rest, take naps often ask for help with Goochie. It all sounded
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lovely in his office with Edward holding my hand and whispering into my ear that he would help as much as he can. Edward was lying because he is always at work and I'm alone. I probably should have mentioned to Tyler how I've been feeling lately. He is my doctor, but he is also my friend and it seemed too personal. It is a ridiculous thought: Tyler ever not being in our lives because I may or may not be having some sort of mental breakdown. He isn't so shallow. But it's just like asking for help from Edward's mom or sister with the house and baby. Telling Tyler that I'm falling apart would make me feel like I'm giving up. Everyone would think that I'm a shitty mother and worse wife. Besides, I don't need help. What I need is not to be pregnant anymore. I need to have the function of my entire body. This extra weight is draining. If I were back to me, back to my normal self with my normal attitude and spunk, I could do this no problem. So until I get my body back, I'll keep my internal issues to myself and shuffle on. Alone. Thirty weeks pregnant, I'm almost done. If I can get through these last few weeks and through Gunner's first Christmas without freaking out, I'll be good. So as I stand in my kitchen; peanut butter and breadcrumbs all over the floor, Ajax spilled in the pantry and dishes overflowing in the sink, I take a deep breath. I count to ten, rubbing the underside of my stomach where it hurts the most and tell myself to relax. Once my stomach has settled down, I grab the broom and begin to sweep up the mess Goochie made during his lunch. And because nothing can ever be fucking easy, I step on a piece of broken coffee mug I didn't catch earlier. "Fuck!" I yell, dropping the broom onto the floor. I can feel my foot bleeding but I can't bend down and look. The broom hitting the ground caught Gunner's attention. He's making his way over and out of panic I yell at him, "No Gunner! Stay by your toys." He starts to cry, sending my nervousness level skyrocketing. Not only is my foot gushing blood onto the tile floor but my kid is scared because I yelled at him and I can't do anything about it. I skip my way towards the kitchen table, trying to avoid the huge shard of glass. How could I have missed that? I guess I should be grateful it was not Gunny that
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was cut instead. The coffee mugs never should have been broken in the first place, but I guess it all still comes back to me. I pushed him there. Once I sit down, the smell of blood is thick in the air and the trail I left behind is more than I would have hoped to see. It means the cut is worse than I minor scratch. I might need stitches. As hard as I try, I can't get my foot up to see. I feel around, touching the cut and it is pretty deep. It hurts, but adrenaline is keeping my body from going into complete fucking shock. I pick up the phone and call Edward. It goes to voicemail. I call his office. They page him. I wait. Gunner is still crying and I'm still bleeding. I hang up and call Alice. "Alice, I cut my foot," I tell her, keeping my tone strong even though I am getting to the point where I want to sob and give up. "Shit, let me try to get a hold of Jasper. I'm in the Valley but he's in town." I can tell she is in a hurry and probably working. "It's ok, Ally, I'll just call Edward back." "Are you sure? Jasper is at the college, he can be right over." She sounds relieved she doesn't have to call him, but concerned enough that I know she cares. "No, he and Edward would make it at the same time. It's fine." I thank her, get off the phone and call my brother, he can't come and neither can Rosalie. Although they both volunteer to leave work to help me, I won't let them. Edward hasn't called back I can call an ambulance, but that just seems pathetic. My foot is bleeding consistently, there is a small puddle on the floor beneath where I'm sitting and to be honest I'm beginning to feel a little scared. I try Edward again, but it goes straight to his voicemail. "Good thing there wasn't a fucking emergency!" I scream, finally giving up and crying into his recorder. I hang up and regret it right away. I know he has his hands are full with work but I need him. I need him for myself sometimes too. My hands are shaking, Gunner is staring at me with a blank expression and I'm trying my hardest to keep control of myself. Adrenaline isn't having the same effect
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it was two minutes before and now my foot is beginning to throb. I don't know what else to do so I call the only person I have left. . . . By the time Tyler gets to the house I've managed to skip to the bathroom down the hall. I'm trying to figure out how to sit on the side of the bathtub without falling in when he comes to the rescue. He places a hand on my elbow and another on my back and helps me down. Tyler tries to look at my foot but he tells me there is too much blood and peanut butter on it to see anything. "Shut up," I cry, pulling my foot away. He looks up from my bleeding foot and smiles. "I'm kidding." After he has placed my both of my feet in the tub, he turns on the water and tells me to stick my bleeding foot under the stream. "I'm going to make a call and grab some bandages. Stay here, don't hurt yourself and try not to fall off of the bath tub." Tyler makes me laugh. The water stings my foot and opens up the gash; I can feel how deep it is. I hope that between Tyler and Edward I can get away with a butterfly Band-Aid and no stitches. I'll really be useless if I'm stuck with one foot because of this. When Tyler comes back, he has two things I want: my bra and Gunner. "Thank you," I snap jokingly, taking my bra out of his hands. Tyler must have cleaned Gunner up; changed his diaper, cleaned off his sticky hands and changed him into clean clothes. He even brushed his hair. And maybe it feels nice that it's been done and now I don't have to worry about it anymore. "Edward wants me to bring you to his office," Tyler says, leaning against the door. "Is he mad?" I ask, letting Gunny put his hand under the water. He likes it. "He got your message." Tyler laughs as he picks up Gunner and pats the top of my head. "Take a shower before we go, I'll get Gunner's diaper bag ready."
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I take a long shower. My foot is bleeding, but the hot water on my skin makes it easy to forget about anything. I wash my hair, and my body and I ignore the stretched skin and swollen body parts. I try to keep myself together. Somewhere between rinsing the conditioner out of my hair and Tyler pounding on the bathroom door for me to hurry up, I miss Edward. When Edward and I broke up and I moved to Forks, I used to have panic attacks. They went away sometime after I came home and was back with Edward but the sheer force of the ache I have for him now takes me right back to being alone in my bedroom; doped up and scared. It takes my breath away, and I want nothing more than to be out of this bathroom and on my way to see my husband. I'm fucking crazy. "I need clothes, Tyler." All he gave me was a bra. Dick. Thirty minutes later, my foot is wrapped up and we are on the way towards Edward. While I was in the shower, Tyler cleaned up the mess in the kitchen; the Ajax, the broken glass, the crumbs on the ground and the rest of the dishes. My home was clean-ish and Tyler managed to do a job that would have taken me all day in a half hour. When we pull up to the hospital, Tyler gets out and tells me that I have to be wheeled in. He grabs a wheelchair and meets me at the side of the truck, but I don't move. "I'm not going inside in a wheelchair, Tyler," I hiss, keeping my eyes closed. Any person walking by will think we are a grouchy married couple. "Bella, you can't fucking walk," he insists, pointing at the wheelchair. I turn and face him, slowly getting out of my Escalade. I'm out of breath and feeling stupid when I finally get onto my feet but I'm trying to make a point; I refuse to be wheeled in like a helpless person. It is a cut on the bottom of my foot, I'm not dying and I'm not in labor. I can walk sort of. Tyler is pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head at my stubbornness, but at this point, he should be used to it. He's been our friend for a while, he knows how I am. Thankfully, he doesn't push the wheelchair on me and lifts the baby out of the truck so I don't have to. Together the three of us slowly make our way towards the front of the ER.
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My heart still beats funny when I know I'm near Edward. He still excites me a love like ours has to be rare; to be this intense all of the time, to want to be around him every second. Being able to feel it in my blood when I'm close to him. Edward gives me butterflies, and makes me blush like a sixteen year old. Tyler rolls his eyes. "Let me call him, tell him we're here." I sit down in the nearest seat taking Gunner and placing him on my lap. He's clapping his hands, trying to pull off his shoe. Tyler walks away to make his phone call to Edward, it kind of bothers me and when he comes back I give Tyler attitude. "What? What did I do, Bella?" Tyler sighs, sitting down beside me. "Why does Edward take your calls but ignores mine?" I ask, wounded. Tyler places his arm behind my seat and leans back. "He doesn't ignore you, B." "Whatever," I mumble. I am pissed. I called Edward twice before I called anyone else about the cut on my foot and I got nothing. Tyler tries once and he's put right through they must have some secret guy code or something. Lame. I don't say another word until I see my husband. I try to stand, but Tyler pushes me down into the seat and meets Edward near the hallway. They're talking but Edward never takes his eyes off of me. I keep his stare, holding it feeling the hole in my chest close up and all the anxiety I felt earlier dissolve. A tear escapes the corner of my eye but I brush it away before it makes it way down my cheek. When Edward finally comes to me, Tyler takes Gunner and walks away and Edward leans down in front of me and pushes his forehead against mine. "I'm so fucking sorry, baby." "It's just a cut," I whisper, crying unable to stop. He's rubbing my cheek with his thumb, kissing the corner of my lips my chin, my nose. He's telling me he loves me again and again. I hold onto his white coat, pulling him closer until the only thing between us is the baby bump. Everyone could be looking, they probably are but I don't care. I need him so fucking much it's sick. "Come on," Edward whispers into my ear. "I need to look at your foot." He helps me to my feet, kissing my temple and keeping his arm around my shoulders. It's when he moves out of my path that I see Tyler with a wheelchair that I try to protest. "Get the fuck in the chair, Bella," Edward grumbles, not entertained by my
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unwillingness to feel weak. He is concerned about Habit and me, not my self-worth. Tyler is covering his mouth to keep from laughing at me. I want to punch a baby, (not my baby) but Edward is giving me a look that tells me he isn't messing around, so I sit. The guys talk amongst themselves on the way towards Edward's wing of the hospital. Gunner sits on my lap, and I don't feel too bad about the chair until I'm suddenly made aware of how many people are around and how many of them seem to know Edward. Many people greet him as we continue to walk. I feel insecure; I'm wearing pajamas and my hair isn't brushed. I don't have any make-up on and my foot is busted up, stuck in a pair of Edward's slippers. Do any of them know I'm his wife? Probably not. Not until he starts introducing me. I've met some of his co-workers, but when we reach the ICU there are some nurses I've never seen, they start to play on my self-confidence. Edward introduces me, uninterested in the nurse but passionate about me. Everyone is respectful and excited about finally being able to see Gunner in person. Apparently, they have all heard a lot about us and they are all sorry about my cut. I nod, smile, and thank whomever I have to, but inside I feel like shit. I feel like Edward deserves more from me I feel like the pregnant, barefoot wife who sits at home. I feel less than. I keep my head held high and my smile in place, dying a little more every time another near perfect nurse introduces herself. They all smell like the sweetest perfume, and their teeth are so white. I look up at Edward, he's looking through a chart, ignoring anyone other than me, Gunner or Tyler and that makes me feel a little better but not much. "Edward," I whisper, eyes red rimmed. He turns away from his files, placing his lips at my ear. "I'm sorry, just let me look through this and I'll take you to my office." He kisses my temple and goes back to business at hand. I can't be mad at him, I'm in his space during his time but I need out of here. From the sympathetic face Tyler give me; I think he knows how I am feeling. "Want to get out of here?" he asks, pushing himself away from the counter. "Yes," I say, hiding my face in my hands as he rolls me towards Edward's personal office.
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He leaves me alone with Gunner, going back out to talk with Edward. I manage to make it from the wheel chair to the sofa. While Gunner plays with the few toys he has here, I lie down and close my eyes. My foot is throbbing, but I'm sure its been wrapped tight enough that it's no longer bleeding. I keep crying, it's ridiculous because I can't make it stop. A steady, slow stream of continuous tears dripping away from my eyes even though they're closed. Edward walks in; he is speaking to me, complaining about a patient. He takes off his jacket and hangs it up in his closet, going on and on and on until he sees me. I turn my head, brushing it off. I wipe the last few fallen tears and smile but it doesn't work and I start to cry all over again. Before Edward says anything to me, he picks Gunner up off the floor and whispers something in his ear. He brings the baby to me. "Say bye to Mommy, Goochie," he says, lowering Gunner so that I get a wet, drool baby kiss on the mouth. Edward walks out of the office; I pull the blanket down and cover myself. I must have fallen asleep because the next time I open my eyes Edward is behind his desk whispering sternly into his phone. I sit up, my head feels heavy and my stomach aches. I stretch, and wince when my foot sends a shot of pain up my leg. Edward and I make eye contact; he ends his phone conversation and comes to me. "Lay down," he says, taking my feet in his lap. I listen to him, pulling the blanket up to my chin, letting my hurt foot hang out the other end. Edward rubs my calf, telling me that Gunner is with Tyler and Emmett at the house. "You've been sleeping for a while, baby." I yawn, biting my lip as Edward slowly starts to unwrap my foot. "I didn't know I was so tired." I lie. Giving me a knowing look, Edward shakes his head slightly. "Don't fucking lie to me, Smella." "I can handle it." "I don't think you can, baby." His tone is steady and calm. He's trying so hard for me. "Do you want to tell me what happened after I left?" "Nothing, I was trying to clean the kitchen and I cut my foot." I'm being short, leaving out all of the self pity. Edward pulls away the last of the gauze from my foot. It isn't bleeding anymore,
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but the air on the cut stings. I hiss and pull my foot away. Edward laughs and takes it back, kissing the inside of my ankle. Deep, brutal green eyes focused on me. "There isn't anything wrong with needing help." I roll my eyes, trying to pull my foot away again but he doesn't let me go. Instead, I cry again. "I don't need help, Edward. I'm capable of being a mother." I see the rage cross across his features. He does a good job at keeping most of his temper at bay, but like this morning with the coffee mugs, it's not always that case. I'm testing his patience, have been for weeks now. I know I'm doing it, I know I should stop, but I can't. I want him to fight with me; I want to feel the struggle and the fight we used to have I want to feel something. There is something wrong with me, I should say. I don't feel right anymore, I should tell him. I'm frustrated and I'm tired, these are the truths he should be made aware of. I don't know if I can love this baby, are words that will never leave my lips. The simple thought of not loving Habit rips my heart in half but it's how I feel and I don't know why. "I never said you weren't a good mom, Bella." Edward takes a deep breath and my adrenaline begins to rush. I want him to fight with me. "I'm only implying that some help with Gunner might not hurt." "Fuck you." I snap, kicking my foot, hitting him in the arm. It causes my foot to start bleeding and my leg to scream in pain. I cry harder, louder aggravated with myself for being so irrational. "I'm a good mom, I can do this by myself." Edward's posture switches from defensive to soft. "Baby," he whispers. He grabs my wrist, pulling me up. I have to adjust my legs and my bleeding foot to sit up straight. Edward helps, taking my face in his hands. "Tell me, Bella. Tell me." I know what he wants to hear, the truth. I sob, locking eyes with the most important man in my life. I could never tell him that I don't think I'm made out to be a mother. He had one, a great one. I didn't. I grew up without a mom and maybe I'm not supposed to be one either. I could never tell him because I could never lose him. Edward kisses away my tears, asking me over and over to tell him what's wrong. I clutch onto his arms, onto his jacket. "It's nothing, I promise. I'm just tired. I'm so, so, so tired." Not all lies.
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Edward nods his head, brushing hair away from my face and kissing over my wet eyes. "I love you, you know that, right?" "Yes," I whisper. He places a hand on my stomach, keeping his forehead pressed against my cheek. "This is almost over. She's almost here and it won't be so hard anymore." "I know." Dread. A mother is not supposed to feel this way. "You're beautiful; to me you're fucking perfect." I laugh, rolling my eyes. "I feel so ugly here." Edward lifts his head from my face, smiling the most stunning smile. "Why? Your candy cane pajamas are my favorite ones." I push him away, wiping my face and sniffling. "Oh, because all of the wives come in here with Christmas pajamas and slippers, right?" "Do you think I give a fuck about what anyone has to say?" He sounds offended and upset at the thought. Edward takes my hand, placing it on himself. "Do you feel me?" He squeezes my fingers around his length, a burst of heat shoots though my body and it's the best feeling I've had all day all week. "You do this to me all fucking day." I crack a smile; a genuine smile. "You're a perv." "No, I'm a fucking man; a man who is married to a beautiful woman." "Now you're just being cheesy." I roll my eyes and pull my hand away. Edward and I don't speak much as he re-wraps my foot. I don't need stitches but the cut is pretty bad. If I stay off my feet, it might heal during the week. I feel relaxed in Edward's office. While he does some more work, I sleep on his couch. The couch isn't the most comfortable sleeping surface, but I sleep hard and long. I sleep so well that when I wake up to a kicking baby, I don't feel as detached as I have been the last few months. I touch where she kicks, rubbing where she doesn't. Maybe I don't need help, maybe I'm just too tired. I'm hungry, but my sleepiness trumps. The next time I open my eyes Edward is
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above me, kissing my neck, pulling down my shirt. He feels so good; I melt. I let him take off my pants, I let him sit me up and slide me to the edge of the couch where he is on his knees between my legs. He works around my stomach, concentrating only on me. Edward massages my breasts, pulls my hair and kisses the side of my neck. He is strong and sturdy, allowing me to just be. I run my fingers through his hair; hitch my legs around his hips. I feel his length against my opening my mouth opens but nothing comes out as he slides inside of me. He is slow and easy; making sure I feel every single inch of him. He asks me if I do, if I feel him? "Yes God, yes I do." I breathe. He is determined and absolute; holding onto the couch cushions beside me and stroking fully and well. My eyes roll and my hear flutters. I feel alive my cheeks are red and my skin is hot. I feel good. He is love and tenderness; stroking with force but kissing with ease. "I love you," he says breathlessly, covering my mouth to keep me from screaming. I want to die as I feel him rock and roll. His hips hit the insides of my thighs causing the best kind of ache. I hold onto him with all my might, pulling at his shirt, his hair biting his chin. "Make me feel again," I moan against his hand. I reach high, high, higher until I fall. I fall hard. Edward removes his hand from my mouth, replacing it with his lips. He sucks the breath right out of my lungs. Chills run up and down my body, and my fingers go numb. It ends with an explosion and the ends of my hair feel alive. My skin tingles and Edward kisses my swollen lips. "Better?" he asks. "Much," I answer. He makes me use the wheel chair on the way down to the parking lot. I'm not as embarrassed this time. This time I can care less. I'm rested, I'm satisfied I'm with Edward. On the way home he holds my hand and feeds me french-fries right out of the bag.
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We make plans to buy new coffee mugs. We make plans to take a vacation sometime soon. "I think we need a break," he says. "I think you're right." When we get home, Gunner is already in bed. Emmett and Tyler are watching TV; they make fun of me for cutting my foot and dropping the Ajax. Edward threatens both of their lives and helps me upstairs. He puts me in bed, kisses my forehead and promises to be right back. Fifteen minutes later, he isn't back and I'm out of bed looking for him. He's sitting on the coffee table in front of, and in between Tyler and my brother. "I don't know what to do," he says. "I can take sometime off," Emmett answers. "I can be here with her." Tyler, he's looking more serious than I have ever seen him. "Women go through this. Especially ones with close pregnancies like Bella." Edward nods. "She'll be OK," Tyler says. Emmett nods. Edward has his face in his hands. Emmett is patting his back. "I feel helpless," Edward cries, but covers it before they can see. I feel helpless, I think. "Don't worry, Edward. We'll handle it. We'll help," Tyler tells him. Edward stands up, he says goodnight and I tip toe back to bed as quickly as I can. I pretend to be asleep when he comes back into the room. He brushes my hair away from my neck, he kisses my shoulder and changes out of his work clothes and takes a shower. I know what they think. I know what they think is wrong with me. They're wrong.
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When Edward comes to bed, he holds me tight so fucking tight it hurts, but I let him because it feels good and I need to get used to feeling again. . . . AN: I am sure a lot of you will guess the direction the rest of this will take after this chapter. I'm not really ready to offer my own personal story yet but trust me when I say I know what I'm talking about. And because I'm totally unfair and selfish, I am going to ask that if any of you have any personal stories you would like to share with me I am looking for any extra help/ advice I can get. You can PM me here or email me at TeamBella23 (at) Gmail. In other news, I have a few things to discuss: I'm hosting a contest with my friend Unfie. A Love Like Fire Contest: Bold plots, fucked up relationships struggles, kick ass music and lots and lots of angst. All links are up on my profile. Check it out, and think about writing for it Judges: 107yearoldvirgin, Jaiemarkin, YellowGlue, and TheLadyinGrey What am I reading this week? I've actually read a lot of real books the last couple of weeks and I want to recommend them to you. First, The Hunger Games series duh. Second, Matched. If you loved HG you will love Matched. And third, Hush, Hush and the sequel Crescendo. Awesome, Awesome series. Fic: Trippin, Slippin, Stumbletumblin by YellowGlue. Easiest the sexiest, most significant FanFiction I have EVER read. Easily. It can be found under my faves. Shit, one last thing I wrote an Outtake for True Love Way which will be included in the Fandom Fights Tsunami fundraiser. Check it out at fandomfightstsunami (dot) blogspot (com). Almost three-hundred authors have signed up and more than $14,000 has been raised so far. Don't be left
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out! Thanks again, TB23

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Chapter 7
I do not own Twilight; I only make it badass. Characters belong to S. Meyer, which is a complete shame. Setting, plot, characteristics and history are mine. Please do not use without my permission. Crawl is fictional; if you are easily offended by Mother-in-Laws, Airports, or Eating Cigarettes then this story is not for you. Please remember this is only a story and any resemblance to true life is coincidence only. Hello, thank you all for being so tolerant with me. I haven't received too many harassing PM's or tweets about updating, so I feel relatively at ease. There are a few things I wanted to mention before I dive into this baby: The feedback I received concerning the Chapter 6, Crawl update was unbelievable. I knew it would hit close to home for a few of you, but the influx of Emails and Pm's was mind-blowing. I appreciate everyone who took the time to share their personal story with me, and if there is one thing I learned through all of this it's that while every situation was singular, the experiences were identical. We are not alone. Second, let me refresh your memory on Tyler. In California Waiting he was Smella's original OB/Gyn's partner and Edward hated him. He is not Tyler from the Twilight books; he is Tyler Hawkins from Remember Me. That's the reason Edward said Tyler is his doppelganger, because they are literally the same person. (kind of) If you don't know what a doppelganger is, pick up your dictionary because this AN is already too long. Jaime and Unfie are my beta extraordinaires. Crawl Chapter 7 Two weeks later; December Edward "Hey, Mom."
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"You look like shit." Her hands reach out for the baby; I hand him over willingly, taking her luggage in exchange. "Thanks," I grumble, pulling my Ray-Bans down over my eyes. People wear sunglasses inside of the airport all of the time. "You need a haircut." She runs her fingers through my hair before touching the side of my face and smiling. "I know." I run my own hand through it, keeping my hand behind my head as I stretch and yawn. "It's been a fucked up couple of weeks." Esme looks hesitantly in my general direction while she kisses Gunner on the cheeks; he plays with her cell phone, putting it in his mouth, dropping it on the floor. Mom finally made it out to California for Christmas; she was supposed to come a few months ago but got busy at home and postponed her trip. I couldn't be happier, I fucking need her. Bella isn't too thrilled, she doesn't like anyone at the house much anymore but I'm a crying baby and a crazy wife away from jumping in front of a fucking diesel truck. I'm stressed, I'm tired and an extra set of hands will do fucking wonders. Don't you dare call me a fucking pussy, but everyone needs their mommy every once and a while, and right now, I need mine. I take her bags, carrying one in my hand and rolling the second behind me. I haven't shaved in a week, I'm pretty sure I have a few stains on this particular white v-neck and Bella hasn't done laundry so we didn't have clean socks; I was forced to wear none. I cleaned the house up before I left, but it isn't Bella clean, it's Edward clean. The tables and shit sparkle when Bella cleans up when I wipe down the tables they smudge, but it's better than having baby food smeared all over the place. She's been trying; I can see the effort, but it isn't the same. Whatever is happening to my Bella is getting worse. She sleeps longer, lost interest in everyday things and worst of all; she doesn't show much interest in the new baby. I help out when I see her becoming frustrated with Gunner; I know it can't be easy for her. The closer to her delivery date she gets the more uncomfortable she becomes. Add an eight-month-old baby into the mix and she's pretty fucking miserable. Between work, home, Christmas and whatever the fuck else is going on, I'm about to lose my head. It's my job as a man, father and husband to keep shit together, but it's hard and I'm tired. It would be so easy to take time off work and stay home with Bella, but I can't. My hands are strapped and if I want time off after she has the
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baby I have to work now. I'm hoping - I'm fucking praying - that this shit gets easier with my mom gets here. Bella insist she doesn't want any help; she'll have to get over it because we need this. We need the help, plain and simple. "Do you want to talk about it?" my mom asks, setting Gunner into his car seat while I shove her bags into the back of the Rover. Tyler and Emmett know about Bella, we have been keeping a closer eye on her and her situation. Emmett rearranged his schedule at work, he is home early and has taken a few vacation days here and there to make sure he is home with Bella when I can't be, but she doesn't take him as seriously and usually ends up laughing off any of his attempts to take care of Gunner. And Tyler, he's in charge of delivering our children into this world, but when it comes to making bottle, she laughs in his face. The upside about that, he makes her laugh. I considered telling my sister, thinking that another girl around the house might be good for Bella, but Alice is a bitch who is still holding a grudge. I've spoken to Jasper a few times and he tells me that she is going through some of her own emotional turmoil; having the two of them together might not be the best idea. My sister is so hot and cold, anything can make her snap and in turn, Bella would flip. That leaves Rosalie, who would help on the drop of a dime, but even I know she's too busy. Rose is a single mother, who works full-time and has her own life to take care of. She comes by a few times a week to drop off and pick up Harlie. Emmett and Angela are officially over, divorce papers filed, but Rose isn't so quick to let him back in. She has her days, some where she needs to be touched and loved. She lets him in then, but on bad days, ones when she remembers that the father of her child married another person, she is pretty cold. Between Emmett, Tyler and myself we have most of Bella's time covered. She isn't left alone very often, and we all make sure she just chills the fuck out. All the signs of Post Partum Depression are there classic fucking case, but we're confident in that after Habit is born things will go back to normal. I miss my wife; I miss her smile and her laugh and her easy-going attitude. A few months ago I was ditching and dodging her because she couldn't get enough of my Preston, now I feel like I'm suffocating her with my company because I'm fucking desperate to find the intimacy we shared before she fell into this depression. It's fucked up.
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Although, Bella may not be the only one who feels suffocated. She's been pretty fucking clingy herself, but in a different manner. She is fighting for my attention against everyone and everything. My girl and I, since the day we met, we've always been together. We like to be around one another always touching, talking, or within sight. Our bond isn't typical, it's extreme and I've never argued that it isn't unhealthy. We're married now, sharing this life together and shit but we still share the same mind set. It's her and me, forever. The only problem now is that we're older and we have kids, the time that we used to spend together has to be spent on other things, like work or giving the kid a bath. When we're not working or taking care of Goochie, shit around the house has to be done. For the sake of the child, we can't have a messy house anymore. Our days of fucking off responsibility so that we can stay in bed and make sure we are constantly connected, doesn't happen very often anymore. She isn't jealous of the baby, it isn't like that she just needs more of my time and when I can't give it to her she fights, and she fights dirty. But I'm the same way, I feel like she is always with Goochie, doing baby shit and when that's over she goes to bed. What about me, I need my wife too she's my best friend. This connection Bella and I have, it's strong and it's a deviant mother fucker. To say that our sex life sucks would be a fucking lie. Sex has always been a strong point for us, if we can't find the words, we use our bodies. It was always awkward when she was pregnant with Goochie, but this time around, when we get to the point where we just need to feel the other, we fuck. There hasn't been much love making in the last few weeks. In fact, it's been about sixteen days since Bella cut her foot and since then there has been a lot of random fucking all over the house. In the kitchen, the garage, the bathroom my office, even the car. Not only has there been a lot of sex, there's been a lot of broken picture frames and a lot of thrown clothes. She kicked my bedside lamp over the other night, and I'm pretty fucking sure she dropped my razor into the toilet. Bella has only hit me once or twice, and it kills me to admit this because I was confident we moved on, but it was a fucking thrill. Like old times, she hit me, I yelled, she cried, and then we made rough love. Goochie doesn't stand a chance, his parents are fucking insane. "She'll grow out of it, Edward." My mom sighs. I lift my eyebrows and laugh; depression isn't exactly a pair of fucking jeans. Bella
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won't grow out of this. She'll learn to manage just like she did be before, but she'll never get over it. I'm surprised it didn't happen while she was pregnant with Gunner, but then again, six-to-seven months after giving birth seems just about right. The least I can do is warn Esme about Bella; Mom has spent a few long nights on the phone talking me down after I've fought with my wife, but a telephone conversation and actually living the fight are two different circumstances. Bella is a piece of work; she's highly emotional and when she feels a certain way about something she doesn't have a problem voicing her thoughts. It's very hot and cold, and up and down with Bella I do a lot of counting, and I count way past ten. "Mom, Bella hasn't been feeling so fucking hot lately." I pull a cigarette out of my pocket with no intentions of smoking it with Gooch in the car, it's only a habit. She eyes the cig that hangs from the corner of my mouth but doesn't say a word about it. Instead she says, "I'm not worried about it, Edward." I nod, knowing that she wouldn't be. Mom has a thick skin and is not easily affected by the issues of other people. She has a knack for staying neutral, and I would only guess that comes from being married to a person like my dad for the last twenty-something years and having children like Alice and me. We're all complete fucking train wrecks, but she has managed to keep her head on. "If she says anything to you," I begin. "Edward," Mom stops me. "I just about lived with Bella while she was in Forks; if I handled her then, I can handle her now." "It's not the same," I grumble, despising the mention of Bella in Forks. It's kind of fucking comical the way my heart still drops when I remember it; heartbroken pussy. "Well, I would hope not." Esme laughs. "You have two babies involved, one of these days you and Bella will learn that the world doesn't revolve around you." I'm about to cut open this cigarette and sniff the nicotine like cocaine - I'm practically eating the motherfucker to keep from snapping at my mom. I love this woman, but I don't handle criticism very well. Never have; I must take after my dick of a father. As far as I'm concerned, this is my world and everyone is living in it. Yep, just like my asshole dad.
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"Your daughter is a bitch," I say to change the subject. Mom gives me a backhand to the arm and looks back to see if Gunny is listening to my foul language; he's used to it. "She's not a bitch, Edward. Why don't you stop thinking about yourself for once and consider your sister's feelings? You and Bella are not the only ones with problems." I scoff, "We don't have problems." Now mom is laughing. "And trust me, Alice hates me." Mom does some more sighing. "She doesn't hate you." "Then what's her deal?" I'm pulling off of the freeway, still trying not to eat my cigarette. Once I pull into street traffic, my hands tighten around the steering wheel and my palms begin to sweat. My heart is beating quicker, my blood flowing warmer. I can literally feel it when I'm close to my girl; it's sick. Bella and I are still as dependent on each other as we were when we first met. We've found a way to live our day to day lives without being completely consumed by the other, we have the kid now and he helps. Gunner is so sweet, small and blameless; he needs us to be level headed, and so we are. But even with him the fixation Bella and I share for one another makes itself known every so often. Old habits die hard, and every single day it gets worse and worse. I can see us going back to that place - alone and hurting- if we don't get a top back on this shit. It's tempting, having that fire back. Bella and I never lack passion, but there is nothing compared to the rush I get when she is so upset she hits me. Fucking disgusting, right? I know. The way her face looks when she is angry so committed, so fanatical. We've had some epic fights; down and dirty. As insane as it sounds, we did it for love unfortunately the fighting and the hitting was our way of showing affection. We bonded though conflict, simple as that. We were not afraid or concerned about anyone who went down in our warpath, it's like we had tunnel vision Bella and me,
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that's all that mattered. We're slowly but fucking surely heading back down in that direction again, only this time Bella has a pregnant stomach and Goochie on her hip. I have hope that for the good of our children we will get a handle on shit pretty soon. I'm just as much a part of the problem as Bella is. I thrive for it, and once it started again I'm like a fucking feign. I want her all of the time I want her to show me how much she loves me, how hard. The adrenaline rush I get from fighting with her that way is not something that can be duplicated by anything else. It's a one of a kind high; one that only she can give me. I love her anger, I love her clinginess and I love her fire. I can compare it to an alcoholic who is taking their first drink after twenty years of sobriety trying to convince themselves that its only one drink. One sip won't hurt anything. One fight. Just one. It won't hurt our progress. When the fight is over, and we're making up I feel like shit. Once the tingles and the initial surge are gone, reality settles in and I'm guilty. The verbal arguments are a nice little fix, but the two times I've pushed her into hitting me was the heroin to my veins. "Mom, I'm so fucking glad you're here." I say, trying to calm my heartbeat as I pull into the garage. . . . Bella isn't anywhere to be seen when I bring the baby into the house. Emmett is on the couch with Harlie watching Cops and I'm pretty fucking sure I saw Tyler's stupid ass out back with the dogs but my girl isn't around. I take the baby upstairs to his room and lay him in bed, turning on the baby monitor and placing a blanket over his small body. It's amazing to me that Bella and I made him together. He's so perfect and small. "Hey," Bella whispers, half of her body peeking in at Gunner's bedroom door.
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I cover the boy and move towards my wife; sudden relief washing over me. "Hi, baby," I whisper back, taking her face in my hands and placing my lips over hers. She steps back enough, and closes the baby's door behind me. My lips are moving down her neck and along her shoulder. I'm moving her back towards our room but she stops me at the doorway. "Your mom is here, Edward." "I don't care," I say, leaving opened mouth kisses any and everywhere I can. "Well, I do." Bella pushes me away and straightens out her shirt. She washed her hair today. "You look nice, baby." I smile, taking in her appearance. Bella flat ironed her hair and put on some make up. She isn't wearing pajamas and smells like a women, not baby formula. "Compared to what, every other day when I look like shit?' She rolls her eyes, but the smile tugging on the corner of her lips clues me in on her light attitude. It might not last long; I'm going to take advantage. I push her into our bedroom and walk forward, forcing her to back up. I lift my shirt over my head, dropping it onto the ground. After I take off my shoes, I unbuckle my shorts I help Bella fall back onto the bed. I can't exactly fall between her legs, so I lie at her side and rub my hand around her swollen tummy. She sighs. "What?" I fall to my back, covering my face with my hands. "What did I do, Bella?" She sits up. "Nothing, I didn't even say anything." "But you sighed, and I know that fucking sigh." "You're crazy, Edward." Bella moves herself forward, trying to get off the bed. I grab her wrist and make her stay. I need her, doesn't she fucking see that. "Tell me what the problem is." And just like that her entire face changes and the hint of a lighter mood is gone, washed away by this scowl and permanent grimace. "No," she says, trying to pull her wrist back.
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I sit up next to her, keeping her wrist, kissing her knuckles "I love you," I say, because there is nothing else. "I love you, and you can tell me anything, Smella." "Quit calling me that," she spits. I laugh, smiling crookedly. "Not a fucking chance." I kiss the inside of her wrist, along her forearm, the dip in her elbow and up to her shoulder. Tension is rolling off Bella in waves; huge, tsunami sized waves I allow them to crash into me because we only have each other. "I love you," I say again, placing small kisses beside her ear and on the corner of her mouth. "I love you, too," she whispers, slowly easing up but her shoulders are still stiff. "I love you too, but sometimes I need you to just touch me only me." I'm lifting her tank top up and over her head; her freshly washed and styled hair falls down over her shoulders and behind her back. I carefully push her onto her back, hooking my fingers into the waistband of her maternity jeans and pulling them down her legs. I bite my lip because, fuck, she is beautiful fucking beautiful. Thick body, full breasts hips for fucking days. I love it. "Just focus on me." Bella presses her palms against her chest. "Just me." Her panties come off next, thrown over my shoulder. Bella stops talking, gripping onto the bed sheets beside her body as I open her legs as kneel down in front of her. Goosebumps appear every place I touch, sending the rest of her tension away. Her candy is swollen, wet and ready. I press my thumb against her clit as I slowly insert a finger into her opening. "That's it, baby," I whisper, watching her chest rise and fall. Her cheeks are flushed and her knuckles are white. My name leaves her lips in tiny-little whimpers and it fuels desire. My fingers glide in and out, my thumb circles and my dick is fucking begging for some attention but seeing her this way, it feeds my need. Fucking her -making love- it's good. It's fucking fantastic and other worldly, but this, seeing that she wants me, only me. Knowing that only I can do this to her, only I will ever do this to her "Edward" Her back arches, and her knees close in on my hand.
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I remove my hand from her center and move Bella onto her side before pulling down my shorts and releasing my dick. I lie behind her, moving her leg up and as quick as I can, I'm inside. We melt literally fall against one another and fucking melt. I move my hips, slow but deep. Bella reaches back, finding my hand and holding it to her chest. Her eyes are closed and her cheeks are on fire. I move the hair away from her face with my nose and kiss her heated skin. I remind her over and over and over that I love her letting her feel it with the movement in my strokes. She's wet, so fucking wet. I'm in and we're close, but I can't get close enough. Bella and I are trying to be quiet because everyone is downstairs but all we want to do is fucking scream. I dig my nails into her hips, pulling her to me as I dig deeper. "Closer, Edward, closer," Bella whispers. Without getting between her legs, I can't. Her back is already pressed against my chest, I'm as deep as I can get from this position, her hands are on me mine are on her, but it's not enough. So I press our bodies even harder together; my dick doesn't stoke, it barely moves. My lips are everywhere, I feel like I want to fucking cry. Why would God be so cruel? Why wouldn't he allow me to just fall into her? "Edward," Bella cries. We're not even moving, we're stuck together and trying, trying, trying my face is hidden in the crook of her neck. Legs tangled and arms mangled. I can feel her heart beating, and my bangs against her back. I close my eyes and wish us closer. I whisper into her ear, and she whispers back. Our bodies are hot, sweating between us. Fire stirs in the pit of my stomach, just being inside of her is enough to make me come and I do. So does she. I pull her incredible tighter, until she swears it hurts but it's not enough. She circles her hips, I push, push, push. We come quietly, we come hard and we come intimately and close. When it's over and we're both left breathless and numb, I don't dare to fucking move. Not if this is as close as we'll ever get. Bella and I lie in bed, silent and hurting. There are no words to say, our bodies do the talking. We can hear the commotion down stairs, and we know that we're not
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alone but none of it is important; nothing but her and I, in this bed closer. Hours could have passed; her and I both taking turns falling asleep. When our grip loosens, we wake the other up to tighten the bond all over again. Our room darkens, and lights go on in the house. I hear people come and go, someone might have even knocked on the door, but I don't bother to move. I'm not going to answer it anyways. It isn't until Gunner's cry echoes from the baby monitor that Bella and I shift. She sighs and smiles, finally taking her nails out of my arm. I kiss the top of her shoulder and pull my flaccid length out from between her legs. We kiss some more, small touches and lingering looks. My heart still hurts, I could have stayed here with her forever, but Gunner knows, all he has to do is call her, "Mama" and he has her. I watch her get out of bed, dress and run her fingers through her hair. She throws me my shorts and tells me to find some socks. Bella looks happy and in love, and the look stays on her face until she reaches the bedroom door then it dissolves, and her smile disappears. "It's scary out there," I tell her. "I can handle it," she insists. I nod, she leaves and I listen to her and Goochie through the monitor. She's trying because, God, it isn't his fucking fault, but it isn't the same. Bella isn't the same. She's sad, and she's fragile. Despite doing the best she can to hide the truth, my wife is more breakable and exposed than she has ever been. This isn't going to be easy and we will have a long road ahead of us, but we're used to fighting. It's what we do, and it doesn't matter if we're battling each other or the entire fucking world, we always win. You better fucking count on that. . . . After a quick shower, I change into some cut off sweats and head down stairs to be with my family. Bella and I were in the room a lot longer than I thought we were
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and the entire day has passed. I feel guilty, it's my moms first day here and I spent it locked up in the room with wifey. But Bella needed it, I fucking needed it. Everyone is looking at me as I walk down the last few steps into the living room. My mom is on the couch with Emmett, Harlie and Rosalie. "Nice of you to join the world," Tyler says with a laugh from the kitchen. "Shut up," I grumble, taking Harlie from my mom and kissing her chubby cheeks. She laughs, and it's the kind of laugh only a baby girl can give so precious and genuine. I can't wait until the day I hear Habit laugh this way, I think, handing her back to my mom. I give my greeting to Rose, Em and my mom. Emmett is giving me a look that is asking me about the welfare of his sister. It isn't until then that I realize that she and Gunner aren't around. "She must be upstairs with Gooch," I say, walking over to the kitchen. He nods, but his eyes linger up to the second floor of our house. He's plagued with worry, the same way I am. We would have Bella on twenty-four hour watch if she would let us, but she already complains enough now, giving her some time alone with the baby is OK. "What were you doing up there?" Tyler asks in a sarcastic tone. "Nothing, fuck off." I look over the stove, he's making spaghetti. Fuck yeah! "Nothing? It didn't sound like nothing." "Tyler, go fuck yourself." I reach in and grab a saucy noodle. "I'm so fucking hungry," I mumble, reaching in for another one. "I bet, getting it on with a pregnant chick is hard work," Tyler says, then takes a swig of his beer, winking at me over the neck. I ignore him because I'm used to how fucking stupid he is. He does this shit on purpose to get a reaction out of me. I'm easy to set off, and he's the only one brave enough to do it. I reach over into the fridge, grabbing myself a beer and twisting off the top. Ty has gone back to his spaghetti and I'm about to go and sit with my Ma
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before he decides to open his filthy mouth again, and this time there is no ignoring what he says. "I haven't had the opportunity to see Bella's goods in a while; I bet they look fucking delicious." He's joking. It's what Tyler does. But this motherfucker "Tyler," I say with a smile on my face, setting my beer down on the counter. "What?" he plays dumb. I tackle him onto the ground and we roll into the dining room table and chairs. Everyone but my mom knows that we're just fucking around, so she is the only one screaming her head off. I kind of shove her frantic yelling to the back of my mind as I push Tyler's face into the floor. "Take it back," I laugh, holding Ty in a headlock. "Back, back I take it back!" He struggles to breathe, let alone speak. I let him go and stand to my feet, I offer Tyler a hand but when he goes to take it, I pull away. Emmett and Rosalie are not amused, but my mom looks downright terrified. "Mom, we were joking. It's OK." I hug her, but her hands are shaking. "Edward" she starts in a concerned motherly tone, but I'm not interested in lectures at the moment. "It's fine," I say again, letting her know the conversation is over. Tyler is coughing, getting up off the floor when Bella appears at the top of the stairs with Gunner in her arms. Any of us would be willing to take the baby from her, but we know that some things have to be left for her to do on her own and simple tasks like bringing the baby downstairs are one she can handle. My mother on the other hand has no idea what kind of shape Bella is really in or what we are doing to accommodate her and offers to take Goochie.
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"I've got him, Esme," Bella fires. I cringe, her tone is a little sharper than I would have appreciated but it isn't anything less than I expected. I warn Bella with a look, be kind to my mother. She ignores me, and pushes passed Esme into my arms. I offer to take the baby, but she keeps him. "We're you and Tyler fighting?" she whispers. "Yes." I kiss her ear and love my baby Goochie. Again, in the middle of our living room surrounded by the people we love the most, Bella and I have managed to block out the rest of the world and make it our own. This is what it is like everyday for us now. Her sudden clinginess, my need for her to be near me all of the fucking time; all of our progress is slowly crumbling down, and everyone seems to be OK with it. Or they all have their own things going on. Tyler is making his spaghetti, watching TV used to this display between Bella and me. Emmett and Rosalie are talking amongst themselves, having their own set of problems to deal with. Em helps with his sister, but why would he be concerned with our marriage? He's been around long enough to know that this is what Bella and I do; we cling, pull and pleasantly suffocate. It's just who we are. But it's my mom, an outsider, the only person in the house who isn't with us day in and day out. She is watching the way Bella and I hover around each other. When I move, Bella moves. When Bella shifts, I shift to accommodate her. Even as the night goes on, Bella and I are constantly attached. We're always touching, always within reach. My mom's weary eyes never leave us, and the crease in her forehead gives her away; she's afraid. And she should be. . . . AN: I want to thank everyone again for all of the support. Post Partum is not a joking matter at all, and I was honored to have so many of you confide in me after the last update. I'll go ahead and apologize again for the
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tardiness of this update. I do update once a week, but between three fics and all of the side things I have going on, Crawl is just a part of the rotation. I keep forgetting to tell you but I have added pictures of Gunner, Habit and Harlie to my profile if you want to check them out. An extension to May 14th has been set for the A Love Like Fire Contest, because I am going on vacation. So if you're interested in writing, and I encourage you to do so, you have a few more weeks to get your entries in. Don't forget to subscribe to the contest c2 community so that you receive alerts as we submit the one-shots. All links for the contest can be found on my profile. Ok, huge shout out to my friends JaimeArkin, UNF4Rob, Filia20, MyRobAddiction and YellowGlue. Without you girls, I would lose my mind. Or is it because of you girls I lose my mind? Lol. ILY. Oh, and MyRobAddiction made me an AWESOME blinkie for Crawl and I don't know how to work my blog so I haven't added it but I vow to learn and as soon as I do, I will add it! See ya next time, TB23

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Chapter 8
I do not own Twilight; I only make it badass. Characters belong to S. Meyer, which is a complete shame. Setting, plot, characteristics and history are mine. Please do not use without my permission. Crawl is fictional; if you are easily offended by Christmas, Marijuana, or Fifty Cent then this story is not for you. Please remember this is only a story and any resemblance to true life is coincidence only. I was on vacation, I'm sorry! I'll make it up to you with this. Jaime and Unfie are my betas. WARNING! Sensitive material. Crawl Chapter 8 BPOV Aggravated. Overwhelmed. Tired. Just to name a few. It's Christmas; what a wonderful time of year right? Not really. I'm trapped inside of my own head, stuck in the corner of my couch with my face in my hands, doing my very best not to lose my cool and go completely bat-shit. Edward is giving me dirty looks from the kitchen, Esme keeps rubbing my back and if Alice asks me, 'what's the matter?' one more time, I might scream in her face. I love my family, and most of all I love my son. I'm giving Christmas a chance, I'm
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just wary. I've known for a while that everyone would be over for dinner, and I've been preparing myself to have a house full of people. I'm making an effort, and it's exhausting. I smile when I'm supposed to, talk when spoken to and I made the fucking mashed potatoes. And they're good! I don't think I'm doing a good enough job at hiding my displeasure. This isn't what I want. I want Christmas to be happy. It's Gunner's first, and while I was genuinely happy for him, I would rather be in bed than down here watching the Rose Parade for the fifth fucking time. Everyone is being noticeably careful with me; treating me like a bubble. Every five minutes another person is asking if I need or want anything. Esme hasn't left my side all day and every single time I walk near Edward, he growls literally growls at me. Like I don't feel terrible enough already. I take a deep breath, carefully remove Esme's hand from my thigh and get up from the couch. Every pair of eyes in the house fall on me, and it only causes my anxiety to skyrocket. "I'm going to the bathroom." I shrug, heading down the hallway. I shut the door quietly and stand in the dark for a moment before I turn on the light and walk towards the sink. Cold water feels fantastic on my warm skin; I get my bangs wet, but I don't care. I think about running a bath, but decide against it when I remember how displeased Edward looked with me earlier. "Get it together, Bella," I whisper to myself, drying my face. Hanging on the back of the bathroom door is a full-length mirror; I accidentally catch a glimpse of myself. My stomach is disgusting, and my face is fat. I try pushing down on my belly and pushing up on my chin, but nothing helps. I am beyond damaged. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I blame her. Habit. As insane as it sounds, and feels, I despise her for doing this to me. How unfair and horrible for a mother to think such things about her unborn daughter. Sounds like something I would do. I've done a lot of bad things in my life; I'm self-righteous, unforgiving, and
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meanbut nothing has ever felt as dirty as disliking my own child. I know I'm doing it, I know it's wrong, but it's a feeling I cannot make go away. She's in my body, and I want her out. I want her away from me she feels like a leech. The thought alone makes my knees weak. I have to lean against the sinkI splash more cold water on my face. It wasn't this way with Gunner, so why now? Why does everything have to be so hard? "Are you okay?" I look up in the mirror, ignoring my wet dripping face. Edward is standing in front of the bathroom door with an distrusting gleam in his eyes. "I didn't hear you come in." I grab for the same towel I used earlier and dry my face. "You've been in here for a while," he says, moving closer to me. He takes the towel and dries my wet bangs for me. "I was worried." "Why?" I snap, grabbing onto his shirt when he tries to walk away from me. I grip onto it until my knuckles turn white and the cotton threatens to rip. "I'm sorry," I say, truly meaning it. He looks down at me; devotion for me, and his faithfulness and love for his daughter wage war in his expression. He wants to hate me for this, but he can't, and he never will. We would rather live in misery than be apart. This is our hell. Well, this version of it. We've been through so many, but even I can admit that this is the hottest. "Do you want them to leave?" Edward asks, referring towards our house full of guests. "Yes," I answer quickly, but not strongly. "I can't."
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I knew he would say that. "Don't be upset with me," I beg, pulling him close. As close I can get him with the baby between us. He touches her. He kisses me. "I'm not, but you need to be out there." Edward is moving my wet bangs away from my face and wiping away smeared mascara from under my eyes. He cares. He's conflicted. "I don't hate her," I say between gritted teeth. We've had this conversation before. All week. His eyes darken and his breathing becomes shallow. "I know you don't hate her. It's impossible, she's your daughter." My frame trembles and my eyes burn, I want to cry. I have been, all week. But I don't want everyone out there to know that we are having a disagreement, although they probably already know. We have been like this our entire relationship. "Then why do I feel this way?" He's supposed to be able to fix me. It's his job. "Baby" Edward whispers against my lips, giving in "we can't do this right now, please." He kisses me. "Please." I told him everything. We were in bed; it was the night after his mother had arrived. He already knew; he just needed my confirmation. We were laying in the dark, a sleeping Gunner on the monitor. I told him I was depressed, I told him I was sad, and I told him I don't think that I love Habit. Edward told me that everything would be ok, that we would work this out. He said that sometimes sometimes, shit like this just happens and that it's nothing to be ashamed of. His eyes betray him. He wants to hate me for this, and I've been cryingall week. I wipe my face and nod my head. "You're right, I'm sorry." I let go of his shirt and take another quick look in the smaller mirror on the wall. My eyes are red, but they have beenall week. There's a quick, sharp pain. Ouch. Edward holds me up; I place a hand on the side of my stomach. I close my eyes and wait it out, and it's gone as fast as it came.
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"Everything alright?" Edward asks, his eyes shifting to complete worry. For me. For her. "Yeah..." I stand straight, the pain throbs but doesn't hurt"just a cramp." Edward intertwines our fingers; he kisses my temple and pulls me out of the bathroom. I follow behind him and ignore everyone when he leads me back towards the couch. "I love you. I love you. I love you," he tells me again and again. I giggle. Alice gags. Esme throws a pillow at her. Carlisle, who arrived yesterday, needs hubby in the kitchen. I hate to let him go, but I replace him with Gunner and I feel ok. I lay my cheek on top of his head. I take a deep breath; he smells like cuddle-me-soft and baby lotion. I squeeze him, and my heart fills with heat. Goochie drools; I wipe it off and clean my wet fingers on my leggings. Alice makes a face, but it's hard to determine what it means. It is a cross between disgust and longing. I squint my eyes at her, she looks away. Rosalie isn't speaking to Emmett, she holds Harlie a lot like I do Gunny. Esme places her hand back on my thigh, and even though I want to bend her fingers back, I don't. Jasper comes and sits beside Alice. He whispers something in her ear and she laughs; it's sweet. Tyler is in the kitchen with Carlisle and Edward. He doesn't have any family that lives nearby, so he came here for Christmas. He bought me a sweater with penguins on it; I think it was a joke. I laughed. It was funny. We bought him a toaster. He said his broke. Last year I bought Edward a car for Christmas, he got me a tattoo. This year we kept it simple and mainly focused on Gooch. A big part of that is because I refused to leave the house. I shopped online, and stopped by Target a few times during the month, but that's it. Edward told me I didn't have to get him anything, but I had to at least put forth an effort for the baby. I've become so useless that my husband needed to remind me to Christmas shop for our son. I thought about buying Habit something. She isn't here, but it only seemed fair. I picked out a blanket; it was soft, pink, and expensive. I felt good about myself, up until I was supposed to pay for it. Then I deleted it from my purchase list. Buying
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that stupid fucking blanket didn't make me feel any better. In fact, it made me feel worse. I'm an awful mother. She won't know the difference anyway. Were we supposed to keep it wrapped and under the tree until she comes? That's just stupid. I used the money I was going to spend on the blanket, and bought Edward a new guitar case. I really felt like shit after that. I felt worse when he opened it this morning and loved it so much he squealed. I laughed at him. It was funny. He bought me diamonds, clothes a pair of slippers. Easy stuffnormal stuff. No matter how normal our Christmas has seemed so far, everything isoff. Edward told Tyler and Emmett about me; I figured he would. Everyone else can just feel the tension in the room. Other than that, they are oblivious to the fact that I don't want my baby. Tyler tells me I have Post Partum Depression. I laughed in his face. It wasn't funny at all. Sometimes I think Edward forgets that I'm not stupid and that I haven't always been a lonely, fat housewife. He and Tyler tell me that I need to talk to someone and my brother; he is always watching me like I'm some kind of ticking time bomb. Tick. Tick. Tick. I won't hurt my baby. I just don't like her very much. "Bella, what's wrong with you?" Alice asks. I must have been day dreamingday nightmaring? "Why do you keep asking me that?" I ask her, setting the baby on the floor to play with his new toys. My heart is beating rapidly, but I do my best to hide it. She crosses her legs, bobbing her foot up and down. "You look sick." "Oh, thanks, Alice," I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Quit pouting, it's Christmas," she adds; always having to have the last word. "Alice," Esme rebukes.
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I get up from the couch, and maybe a little too quickly because that sharp pain I experienced in the bathroom comes back with a vengeance. I cry out, holding my side and doubling over. Everyone comes to my side; Tyler and Edward pull me away from the couch and towards the kitchen. They sit me in a chair; Carlisle is asking me stupid questions, so I ignore him. It's fine. I'm fineshe's fine. "It's nothing, just a cramp." I try to rid everyone of their worry, and everyone accepts my answer; everyone but Edward, Emmett, and Tyler. "I'm fine," I tell them again, but they don't believe me. "It happened in the bathroom, too," Edward informs the others. Traitor. Carlisle nods his head, touching my face beneath my chin. "Take it easy, Isabella." I sigh. "I have been. I just got up too fast." My shoulders sag. Tyler and Edward stand side-by-side, both wearing the same type of expression; curious, disappointed scared. I'm sick of it because they have been looking at me like that all week. I try to stand. Edward makes me sit. "It's time for dinner anyways, Baby." He turns my chair around. The wooden chair legs scrape against the title floor and everyone turns their head to see what's happening. It's just me, I think to myself. Being treated like a child. Rosalie sits beside me, and Esme sets Gunner into his highchair next to Harlie. One at a time, my family fills the dining room and takes their seats around the table. Carlisle, Edward and Tyler made dinner, and they serve it too. Esme tries to help I don't bother. I do try and get up to make Gunner his plate but Edward very quietly tells me to, "Sit the fuck down." So I do. I try to smile, but it's not really working or very convincing. I feel detached and uninvolved; like I'm trapped in a glass box with my own unhappiness while everyone is looking in on me with forced sympathy. All except Alice, I think she might be the only one pleased that I am literally drowning in my own self-pity. She may be the only other one who is as unhappy as I am.
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I don't know why though. What can be so wrong in her life that she's bitter all of the time? She has a beautiful boyfriend - fianc- whatever the hell he is this week. Alice has a good job; she makes great money and is able to mingle with people all day long. She has nothing tying her down; no kids, no house payment nothing. What is so wrong with that? "What's wrong with you, Alice?" I steal her words, being intentionally convincing. Her eyes open wide like saucers and her tiny little hand fists on the table. "What do you mean?" she asks snidely. I shrug, flicking the condensation off my water glass. "You just look odd," I say in a mocking way, in hopes of making her feel self-conscious. It works, she drops her fisted hands to her lap and her face goes white. Edward sets the ham in front of me, the smell almost makes me gag. Alice sits across the table, her eyes bearing down on me. Edward's hands are on my shoulders, his lips at me ear. "Please, stop," he says. "This isn't the time for this shit, Bella." he reminds me. I nod; Edward kisses my temple before walking away. Alice's eyes don't shift away from mine until I reach forward and grab a piece of ham. The smell is making me sick, but I'm trying to act nonchalant. "You think you're so fucking privileged, right?" Alice says quietly. So quiet I'm sure only I hear her. "What?" I laugh. "Look at you, you're miserable." It hurts, but I don't show her. "You know nothing." Now it's time for her to laugh at me. "I know you. I've known you for a long time, Smella." I want to reach across this table and slam her face against the glossed wood. I want to rip at her ears and punch in her teeth. Instead, I close my eyes and breathe cautiously. "You're hiding something, I can tell," Alice begins again, grabbing her own piece of ham.
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"Shut up, Alice." "No," she says, this time grabbing the attention of Edward and Esme. "Girls, that's enough," Esme reprimands in her own quiet way. Jasper quickly figures out there is something going on, as do Emmett and Tyler. The only ones who seem to be unmindful are the kids, Carlisle and Rosalie. Edward looks at me from the kitchen, I can feel his stare piecing through but I ignore him. I'm tired of his dirty looks and his warning glances. I don't know what I did to Alice to make her so angry; I've apologized for my transgressionsthere is nothing left. Jazz is saying something to Alice; it isn't until now that her eyes finally move away from me. I run a hand through my damp bangs and turn my head away from her. Gunner is sucking on his sippy cup, Harlie is slapping her hands on her tray and everyone else is trying to make conversation through the tension. Merry Christmas. I don't look at anyone until I feel Edward sit beside me. He takes my hand in his and pulls me into him. "Ignore her," he says to me. "I'm trying." It's all I seem to do anymore. "You look beautiful today." Edward smiles against my hair, rubbing circles on my hand. "Liar." I smile back. I love him this way. When he talks to me, touches me focuses only on me. Only me. Not her. Our baby. Conversation after that is stressed but simple. Jasper talks about work, Carlisle speaks about Seattle and the hospital. It's easy to retell stories about Gunner, but when people ask me about the pregnancy I avoid the topic. I don't want to be reminded about it. No one seems to notice I avoid the discussion of Habit. No one except Alice, her eyes light like fire whenever I dodge a question. She's catching on; she better mind her own business. "Unbelievable," she mutters under her breath. Edward's fingers dig into my thigh. Ignore her, his eyes tell me.
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The food is good and I eat a lot. Habit is hungry I guess. I notice that there is a normal amount of space between everyone else but every single time I go to take a bite of my food or reach for my water I'm touching Edward. Our seats are practically stacked on top of one another. We lean into each other; he brushes his fingers along my arm or across my face every so often. The baby kicks but I don't tell him or anyone else. If they tried to touch her, I would lose it. "Do you like your food?" Edward asks, moving a little closer. Always a little bit closer. "Yes." I smile, taking another bite of my cranberry sauce. I tangle my left foot with his right. Our plates touch closer, closer, closer. Never close enough. He's done eating, I'm not. He's moving the hair off of my shoulder. He's kissing my cheek. I'm eating the small piece of turkey he didn't want off of his plate. I'm thinking we should have shared because I ate way too much. "Let her eat, Edward," Esme says beside me. "I am." "He is," we say in unison. Her eyes have that same uncertainty they have had since she got here. It's a sick cycle of mistrust and resentment; Edward and me, trying to suffocate one another. Esme looking at us and Carlisle looking at her. Alice looking at everyone, Jasper whispering shit into her ear Thankfully, this Christmas, Emmett and Rosalie might be more fucked up than any of us are. "How is Angela, Emmett?" Carlisle doesn't realize his mistake until he has already made it. I keep myself from rolling my eyes while Edward's dad turns fifteen shades of red. Rosalie is visibility affected, I'm sure she has had thoughts of Angela on her mind all day long, but hearing the confirmation of her name probably doesn't feel good.
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Lord fucking knows if anyone were to mutter Jessica's name, I would most likely cut off Edward's balls and dip them into the gravy before I fed them to the dogs. Emmett chews his food uncomfortably, but now a silence has fallen over the dinner table. We've all been wondering the same thing: Where is his wife? "She's home - I think." Emmett shifts awkwardly. "They're separated, Carlisle," Esme reminds her husband. "I'm sorry. I remember." he says, wiping his mouth off with a cloth napkin. I push my plate away. I'm over-filled and engorged. Edward drapes his arm over my shoulders and I lean into his side. I can tell by Rosalie's body language, she is dying to say a something on the subject. Literally stabbing her food with her fork, she laughs out loud and beats Emmett continually with her eyes. Selfishly, I'm glad the focus isn't on me any longer. "I love you guys," Tyler says, and I think he means it. A pile of mashed potatoes and corn mixed and stacked on his plate. He smiles, mouth full of food. He is such a kid, but not even his carefree attitude can break the stress that lingers over Christmas dinner. "Did you know he gave her the house?" Rosalie's asks no one in particular. No, I didn't know that. I sit up, ready to give my brother a piece of my mind. Edward so kindly pulls me back into his arms. "It was the least I could do," Emmett says lowly. Rosalie's eyebrows shoot up; this is an argument they have clearly fought before. "The least you could do?" she asks sarcastically; a cold bite in her tone. "Yeah, Rose. Quick divorce; it's what you wanted. She wanted the house, so instead of fighting her for it, I gave it up." "No, what I wanted was for you not to marry another woman." Even Tyler drops his fork.
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Gunner is smearing applesauce in his hair. "I said I was sorry, there isn't much more I can do." Emmett places his napkin over his foot and sits back in his chair. "This isn't something you say sorry about, Emmett. You say sorry because you left the toilet seat up or because you forgot to take the fucking trash out! Not because you abandon Harlie and me; that requires more than an apology," her voice trails off, threatening to break. It's like a train wreck happening right before my eyes. I want to help the victims, but I'm shocked by the catastrophe. My mind has literally gone blank and the only sounds in the house are our breathing, and the ice-maker dropping a fresh batch of ice. "How about those Lakers?" Tyler fills the silence, but nobody acknowledges him. . . . "Is she gone?" I ask, lifting Gunner into bed with me. After Emmett and Rosalie had their fight, no one had an appetite and Christmas was officially over. I went back to the couch, this time with Edward. Esme, along with Alice, cleaned the kitchen. Em tried to get Rose to speak with him in private, but she refused. Tyler and Edward helped her pack her car with Harlie's gifts and I took that as my cue to say goodnight to my family. "Yeah, she's gone." Edward runs a hand through his hair; a cigarette placed behind his right ear. I'm in my bra and underwear because nothing is comfortable anymore. I took a shower, washed the make-up and hair spray off me and brushed my teeth. Now I'm back to my normal house wife look. Edward doesn't seem to notice; he climbs into bed beside me, lying on his stomach. I think he's going to kiss her, but he doesn't. Instead, Edward kisses my knee before leaning his forehead against my arm. "How are you feeling, Smella?"
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Gunner climbs over my legs, his hands on my Belly. "Fine," I answer Edward, indifferent with the conversation. I'm waiting for the lecture. I'm ready for him to turn into Dr. Cullen and throw technical medical terms at me. He's going to tell me I need help, I'm not alone, it doesn't have to be this way blah, blah, blah. I was a prenatal nurse and I am a mother, I'll know how to care for her. I don't need some shrink to tell me I'm depressed, and I don't need him telling me what I need to do to be good at this. It's what I do. I care for a baby all day I'm qualified for the job. "I'm just saying, Bella." Edward groans, getting up and out of bed. "But you haven't said anything, Edward." He ignores me, closing the bathroom door with him inside of it. I refuse to cry, focusing my attention on Gunner instead. He's straddling my thighs, looking over my stomach. Habit is kicking, Goochie doesn't really catch on he's so young. Despite being constantly told, he isn't aware that his - sister - is inside of me. He touches my stomach, slapping the stretched skin. "Baby," I tell him, trying to keep my voice light and playful. His huge brown eyes look at me for a second before be begins to slap my stomach again. A nagging voice tells me to put his hand where she kicks or I'll regret it forever, but I don't. "Habit," I tell him again, maybe he will figure it out himself. Who the fuck am I kidding? He's eight months old. I just don't think I'm capable of being so intimate with her. The voice is bothersome. "Gooch" I try to grab his attention, while hovering my finger over the spot she's kicking "Habit." Just do it, the voice tells me. With a shaky hand, I grab onto his small wrist and put his hand where she moves,
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but he still doesn't understand. He moves his hand away as quick as I drop it, slapping it over my belly button. "Fuck," I whisper to myself, taking his hand again Why is this so hard? It's supposed to come naturally to me. The thought of doing this, it's turning my blood cold and shaking my bones, but I take his hand and place it over the moving spot. Let go, let go, let go! A huge part of me screamsbut the nagging voice tells me to push his hand harder, so I do. And we feel her kick. "Baby," I say, my tone thick. I think he gets it he feels her. And I think maybe I do too - but I'm wrong, it's only a sharp pain through the center of my stomach that causes me to scream and push Gunner off of my lap. . . . Edward I grab the towel from the rack, slipping on the tile with my wet feet as I jump out of the shower and run out of the bathroom, trying to wrap the towel around my waist. Bella is lying on her side, assuring me that she's ok, but at this point I'm not sure if I trust her word on anything that has to do with Habit. It fucking sucks, but it's how I feel. My hair is dripping and my skin is wet; it doesn't stop me from sitting beside Bella and pulling her onto my lap. She has her hand placed on the side of her pregnant stomach, it's touching it really fucking is. It's the first time I've seen her touch her stomach in an affectionate way in weeks. "She's kicking my ass." Bella laughs, rubbing small circles over our daughter. I don't say a word; not ready for the moment to pass. "Maybe we should have Tyler take a look at her, baby." I'm capable of doing it, but
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my nerves are fucking shot, and in this case I can allow him to be the professional while I be the husband. She shakes her head. "I'm ok. It's not contractions, I know how those feel and they've been so far apart." "Are you sure?" I ask, despite better judgment. "Yeah." She sits up, taking her hand off her belly and rubbing her palm against the bedspread. She's wiping her hand off like it's dirty - like our fucking daughter is a disease. I have to remind myself that this isn't how she really feels. This is only a thing Bella is going through. It will pass, like everything else in our fucked up lives - this will pass. It's hard. My wife and I have known each other for a long time and we have been through plenty of shit. We have dealt with anger, jealousy, death, love love lost, love gained. We own our dysfunction and we have always thrived on being able to conquer anything that is thrown in our way. How am I supposed to fight Bella? She openly dislikes our baby. Every family has problems; we are not the first to deal with this particular one. But how in the fuck am I supposed to feel about this? I want to support her - I always do, I always will - but it feels wrong. By supporting Bella, I feel like I'm betraying Habit and vice-versa. I see the looks Bella gives me if I touch her stomach. She cringes when the topic of the baby is brought up. She was fucking catatonic at dinner, afraid of the subject. She did an awesome job at deflecting the questions and changing the subject. I want to hate her for it. I never could. I try to keep my emotions in check. We're still fighting; not as badly or as openly because my parents are here, but when we do fight, I do my best to keep my opinions about Habit to myself. I try not to judge my wife, but it's near fucking impossible. How could she? Habit is a part of me. Bella swears she loves me. She shakes, trembles and moans
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if I'm not around. We almost died when we split. Our bond is innatewe have to be together. So if she feels so passionate about me; so permanent, why is she so careless about Habit, when Habit is a part of me; a part of us? I'm sitting beside her, wanting to fuck her, make love to her and beat the shit out of her for this. I want to love her and kill her for such fucking irreverence. I'm tempted into discarding her, but taking her away and protecting Bella until forever. This is a horrible way to feel, but I could never imagine being in her shoes. Bella is looking at me with disgust in her eyes. She feels broken and less than whole. She wants to scream at me because she feels guilty about an issue she has no control over. Bella wants to ask for help, but she doesn't want to confirm failure. Her feelings are more conflicting than mine are, and the only thing keeping us together keeping us connected - is our love. Our love is everlasting; the one thing that is repeating, like everything else, this will be ok. "I love you," I tell her, meaning every single syllable. "I'm so fucked up, but you will love me regardless," she says, walking her pointer finger and her middle finger across her peaked stomach. "This isn't your fault." Why does it sound like a lie? "If she is born and I hate her, will you leave me?" "No." Bella nods, looking at Habit. "It doesn't feel like she belongs to me." "You're fine." More lies. "Like a stranger is inside of my body, ruining me draining me." Better judgment is telling me to run. Just take the kid and run. My heart is telling me to stay because I wouldn't survive without her. I would rather live with resentment and guiltiness than be without my wife - my heartbeat, my fucking lifeline. "I dislike her more because of the way you look at me, Edward." Bella finally cries, wiping the tear away as soon as it falls. I want to confirm her suspicion. I want to accuse her of being a bad mom and a worse person. How could she live with herself? I could never imagine not loving
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Habitbut I don't, I can't. "I don't look at you like anything, Baby." I touch her face, reaching forward to kiss her shoulder. Someday, I will forgive her for this. "I'm tired," she says, moving down until her head is on her pillow. Bella turns her back to me, taking a deep breath. I see her face crumble, but before I have a chance to comfort her, she fixes her lapse and puts on a smile. "I love you too, Fuckward." "I love you more," I tell her before pulling the covers over her shoulders and turning the lamp off. Goochie fell asleep sometime during our conversation; I'll leave him in bed with her for now. I don't have the strength to be next to her yet. She falls asleep, or pretends to be asleep quickly. I dress in a pair of jeans; slip my feet into my chucks and head down stairs without a shirt on. I don't have the fucking will to put a shirt on. I barely have the energy to stay awake, but I told Tyler we could hang tonight and I think Emmett is in need of a few brews. . . "You guys need to keep it the fuck down before you wake up Bella, or my Pops, and I'm not sure which one would be worse." I laugh, popping the cap off another Corona, passing it to Tyler. It's after three in the morning; Emmett, Tyler and I have been in the garage for a couple of hours, tossing a few back and shootin' the shit. I'm having a good time and feeling relaxed for the first time today. We tried to get Jasper to come over but my sister has his balls hanging above their bed, so he had to regretfully decline. I shouldn't be drinking, Bella is a couple of months away from her due date, but I still stress over it. I need this though; I was in need of a night to myself, with my boys. Just to chill. "How is the wife doing anyways?" Tyler asks, taking a swig of his beer. I'm sitting in a lawn chair I pulled from the backyard. We attempted to sit outside first but its freezing fucking cold and I refuse to put a shirt on. Call me sentimental call me a pussy, but I have to see her name on me right now. I need to remember
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that I love her, and why. "It's getting worse." I didn't want to talk about it. Emmett and Tyler are the only other ones who know about Bella and her Postpartum, but I didn't want to damper shit by bringing it up. My jeans hang low on my hips. My tattoo takes up the better portion of my lower stomach; it is etched across my body. I take a hit of my cigarette and stare at it, knowing that they're waiting for me to say more. I don't say shit though, I just stare. "Where is she, in bed?" Tyler asks. "Yeah," I say, blowing out smoke and putting out my cigarette. "Want to smoke this?" I look up to find Tyler holding a joint between his thumb and his pointer finger. I can't remember the last time I smoked, and the thought is enticing, but I better not. He must know I'm going to decline because he lights up, takes a hit and blows sweet-sultry smoke into the air. It doesn't take long before him and Emmett are passing the joint between the two of them. Never mind the fact that Emmett can lose his job if he is tested, he wants to relax fuck it. Swallowing the rest of my beer, I set the empty bottle down on the ground and walk over to Tyler and Emmett, who are standing and smoking in front of the open garage. "Wanna hit?" Tyler asks, eyes already glossed over and red. I walk out onto the driveway, I can see my bedroom window, it's dark and Bella is still asleep with Gooch. "Yeah, why the fuck not." Smoking isn't as much fun as it used to be, but it gets the fucking job done. Two hits in, and I already feel lighter and have a case of the fucking giggles. We smoke the joint until our fingers burn, and then we sit around and laugh at each other. It's stupid, but it's good times. Everything is funny, fun, fun and it's been a while since I've felt so negligent. Of course it comes back to bite me in the ass. Because when the garage door opens and Bella is standing there holding her stomach, she doesn't even need to say anything - I already know.
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And I can't believe this shit is happening again. . . . AN: Cliffy! I'm even proud of this one. I have a few things to say, first - and I hate to do this - but I got a review from an anonymous tough girl today. She called me stupid and said she was quitting my story because I named the baby Habit. I'll be willing to bet the left side of my keyboard that she's reading this right now, because let's be real, you don't quit Closerward and Smella all I have to say to this mystery person is this: you're the one who left an unsigned review in shouty caps. And you think I'm the stupid one? Stay tuned for the "A Love Like Fire" contest winners. The link to the FFn profile is on my page. Give me two weeks! Two weeks and the next update will be ready. TB23

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Chapter 9
I do not own Twilight; I only make it badass. Characters belong to S. Meyers, which is a complete shame. Setting, plot, characteristics and history are mine. Please do not use without my permission. Crawl is fictional; if you are easily offended by - then this story is not for you. Please remember this is only a story and any semblance to true life is coincidence only. Jaime and Unfie are my betas, and all mistakes are my own. Crawl Chapter 9 Edward What did I do to deserve a life that resembles a fucking bad soap? Can I do nothing right? Can a single thing ever be fucking easy? No? Yeah, didn't think so. "Baby?" I say carefully, trying my hardest not to laugh at her. "Edward." Bella, who is still holding her stomach, stumbles into the garage. "Are you high?" I rub my eyes, looking at Tyler and Emmett for some help. I'm high as a fucking kite, and if Bella is in labor like I think she is, we are seriously fucked. Of course my boys are no fucking help, they look like statues - isn't Tyler the vagina doctor? "Ummm Bella, what's wrong?" Do not laugh. Do not laugh. "You're fucking high!" she shrieks, palming her forehead only to wince at the pain in her stomach - coming from our baby. Our fucking baby! "I'm sorry!" I yell, and laugh. Tyler and Emmett laugh too. "I didn't mean to!" "I can't believe this shit. Seriously, Edward." Bella sits in one of the chairs I
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brought in from the front. "Baby," I kneel down in front of her, blinking - a lot. "What's happening?" "Yeah, what's happening?" Tyler finally speaks. His arms are crossed over his chest, his eyes hazy and red. We are so fucked up. "I don't know, my stomach hurts and it's not cramps... not like before." Bella rolls her eyes, gritting her teeth. "I think we should go to the hospital, it kind of fucking hurts." "Fuuuuck." Tyler groans. "No way." Emmett laughs some more, only to apologize to his sissy before asking if she is feeling OK. "No, I'm not fucking OK. I'm in pain, Emmett, and you idiots are all lit!" Bella stands, and even in my state I can tell she is in a lot of pain. "I'm waking your dad up." "No! Not my dad!" I yell. "Not Carlisle!" Emmett screams. Tyler is giggling like a bubble-pop blonde. "What else am I supposed to do?" Bella asks no one in particular. "You assholes can't drive me." "I'll drive." Tyler raises his hand, waving it back and forth. She huffs, and puff's and I'm pretty sure if she could, she would blow this fucking house down. Snort. I follow Bella into the house, doing my best to convince myself that the floor is not made out of marshmallows and my feet are not being sucked in by the monster from The Ghostbusters. I don't know what the fuck Tyler lit up tonight, but it was some good shit. I smoked a bowl, maybe two. Even under this amount of stress, this high isn't going away for a while. I rub my eyes, pull on my hair apologize, but nothing helps.
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"I need some water, Smella," I say, heading towards the fridge. My girl might be in labor, but the second I hit the kitchen, I get the munchies. We have donuts in the pantry, whipped cream in the fridge and popsicles in the freezer. I'm having my way with all three when Bella comes over and slugs me in the arm. "This isn't a joke, Fuckward. I am in pain and you're sucking on a Big Stick!" She hits me again, this time in the chest. "Go wake your dad up, Edward." I do as she says, taking the popsicles with me. Thankfully, Tyler and Emmett come in from the garage, assisting my wife. On my side, the task of waking up my dick-face father seems unreasonable. I'm not that high - I can drive. I better not. I can call one mean cab through. I better wake up my pops. I really messed up this time. It's just that the stairs will never end. I take a step, but I'm not getting any closer to where I am headed. Step, step, step, step - nothing. I give up, and decide that calling my dad or yelling 'fire' is a better idea. "Dad!" - Mid-stairs - "Dad, we need you!" "Edward, what's going on, its two o'clock in the morning?" My dad, with fucked up hair and sleepy face, closes the guestroom door behind him and stands at the top of the stairs, ill-amused. "It's Bella, I think she needs you." "Are you fucking high?" He flips the lights on, and I almost fall back. "You're high; you have got to be kidding me, Edward. I can smell you from up here." "I know." I rub my face but it feels like honey and rubber - it's weird. He storms passed me, making sure to shoulder check me as he makes his way towards Bella. "How could you be so irresponsible, son?" "I didn't know this would happen, she's only thirty-three weeks." I stick my hands in my pockets, following my dad towards Bella. "I thought it would be OK."
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Dad ignores me, and touches Bella's warm face. They talk about her symptoms, I try to follow but it's difficult. Words mesh and tangle, it sounds like they are talking gibberish. Dad eventually wakes up mom, and calls Alice over to watch Gunny because we're all going to the hospital - it looks like my baby girl is coming early and I'm high. "It doesn't seem too serious," Dad says after asking to speak to me in the kitchen. His lips are weird. "Edward, focus." "Focusing." "She's experiencing a lot of discomfort, so we need to get her to the hospital. Since Tyler is her OB/GYN, you three sons-of-bitches better start drinking some coffee and splashing cold water on your faces. If that baby is coming, she's going to need you sober." He tries to walk away from me, but I grab his arm and keep him in place. "Is this really happening?" I ask; my mouth is so fucking dry. "It's happening." He walks away. The faucet water is on full blast, I stick my face under and choke but I don't fucking care. It's too early, Bella still has seven weeks before her due date, my dad is trying to keep everyone calm, but he can't deny that this is wrong. Something is legitimately wrong. I'm splashing water on my cheeks, drinking a shit-ton of it. Nothing is working! Mom made coffee, Tyler is trying to keep his shit together but he's become paranoid and is convinced that someone is out to get him. He's sitting at the kitchen table, pale and clammy, just waiting for the front door to kick open. "This is your fault, motherfucker." I groan, splashing more water. "You're the one who smoked." "I didn't want to!" I throw my wet towel at him and head towards my lady. She is handling things well; lying on her side. Bella is curled into herself, but she isn't crying and isn't showing how uncomfortable she really is. "I am so sorry, Baby." She reaches her hand out for me. "I know, just hold my hand." I sit on the floor beside her while we wait for my sister to arrive. Bella's
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contractions are steady at ten minutes apart. She breathes through them, crushes my hand and curses beneath her breath. The room still has a slight tilt, Emmett is face deep in a bag of Cheetos and Tyler, who is afraid for his life, thinks that the cops are surrounding the house. "It's Alice." Esme tells him, answering the door for my sister. I don't bother to greet her; I help Bella up and walk her towards the garage. It smells strongly of weed and cigarettes. She hits me in the chest, but sees enough humor in the situation to actually laugh. "I really am sorry, Smella," I whisper, opening the passenger door on the Escalade. "I know you are." She kisses me before settling into the front seat. I run back into the house for Bella's bags and a mug of coffee for myself while everyone else gets ready to go. I grab my cigarettes off of the kitchen counter, and leave the house without a look back. It isn't until everyone is finally piled in the Escalade that someone points out that I'm shirtless. "I don't fucking care, just drive." I'm waiting for someone to make moves, but nobody does. Four sets of eyes stare at me like I've lost my mind, which I haven't, I could care less about a fucking shirt. "Edward, go put a shirt on." My dad sighs, his hair still all messed up and morning like. "No, just go. What's the big deal?" I sit next to Bella and close the truck door. "He's right, it's fucking hot in here." Emmett, who isn't shirtless, takes his shirt off and sighs with relief. Tyler follows suit pretty quickly. "So hot," he moans, sitting on the other side of Bella. He rolls down the window and sticks his head out. Now we're all shirtless and my dad looks like he is three seconds away from having an aneurism. I'm not in the mood to hear about how unprofessional I am, or how unnecessary my current condition is. My wife is about to have a baby, I'll put a fucking lab coat on when I get there. "Dad, drive." I'm trying to keep as calm as possible. Add to a list of other things,
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the weed isn't helping me control my anger. "Yeah, drive and turn the air conditioner on. I'm burning alive, I think my skin is melting. Holy shit, I'm going to die." Emmett is rubbing his face; the area around his hairline seems to be sweating. "It's like I'm roasting in the depths off hell its like being jammed between Kim Kardashian's butt-cheeks!" "Emmett, that's enough!" My dad finally peels out of the driveway, but not before turning the air on full blast. "Sorry," Em mumbles, putting his face right up to the air vent. Mom and dad are talking amongst themselves, Tyler still has his head out the window and Emmett is sucking up all the cold air. I put my arm around my wife, and even though I know she doesn't like it, I touch Habit. She's coming much too early, I think to myself. Bella flinches away from my touch, but not even her reaction stops me from comforting the both of them. "I didn't do this on purpose," she whispers to me. How could she ever think she was powerful enough to make something like this happen? "This isn't your fault," I tell her, moving the hair away from her neck. "I should have said something earlier." Bella holds my hand, breathing through her nose as another contraction hits. She drops her head forward, clutching onto my hand. "Don't worry about it, baby." I kiss her forehead, her knuckles and her wrist. I'm doing an alright job at keeping myself in line. The lights on the freeway look funny, and my mouth is still dry but nothing about this situation is funny; not like it was with Gooch. This could be serious this is serious. Of course in this family, we laugh at the serious shit too. And Tyler is a part of this family.
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"Oh, man this is a fucking sign!" He sits up in his seat, touching Bella's tummy. Time stops. She makes a face; Tyler doesn't seem to remember he tells Carlisle to turn the stereo up. Fifty cent thumps through the speakers. He sings, "Go, go, go shorty, it's your birthday, we're going to party like it's your birthday. We're going to drink Bacardi like it's your birthday. We don't give a fuck 'cause it's your birthday" The entire time Tyler is rapping the words to the song, he's pointing at Bella's tummy. She smiles. She even laughs. It's so fucking cute. I start rapping, and so does Emmett. Esme doesn't really know the words, but she improvises. My dad is a cockhole, so he doesn't rap but I saw that motherfucker smile. . . . Reality really sets in once we reached the hospital. Bella is in a lot of pain, she's trying to hide it, but her contractions are moving closer together and she's growing more and more impatient. Carlisle drops us off at the front entrance of the ER. Tyler and Emmett come back with a wheel chair: Tyler pushing, Emmett standing on the seat pretending to surf. I threaten both of their lives. They back away slowly. Inside we get dirty looks from the staff and the other patients: This is USC Medical Center, people come here dressed to the fucking nines - not shirtless and high. It's a nice reminder about how unfair and fucked up California's medical field really is, and it isn't until they realize who the fuck I am that I get the respect I fucking deserve. Or maybe it was because my dad stepped up from behind me, demanding this and telling this person to do that. Someone tries to take Bella from me; a nurse. My anger is officially unleashed and I rage; I make a scene. Dad is able to get Bella from my grip, she isn't crying but I can tell she's scared. I'm OK, she mouths as they pull her away. "Edward, they need to see what's going on with her and you're not helping." Dad sighs, giving me a sympathetic, but disappointed look. "You can lose your fucking job, get your shit together," he adds before turning away from me. I always seem to fuck up, no matter how hard I try.
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"Lets go suit up, I'm still her fucking doctor," Tyler whispers to me, putting his arm over my shoulders. My skin still tingles and my head still swims. I know I probably look like trash, and I shouldn't have come to my work place this way. But I've never been one to make rational decisions when it comes to my wife. She makes me crazy. I'm crazy in love. No one will keep me from her not ever. Not now. Tyler and I run to my office. It isn't far from the ER, but it's a distance. His face is so serious, but his eyes still give him away. I drop my keys to the ground three times before I finally get it in the hole and unlock the door. I smile at Ty as we change into some scrubs; he is a better friend than I have ever deserved. He is good to my family he is loyal and true. And this will be the last fucking time he looks at my Bella's ho-ha. "Ready?" he asks me, running his fingers through his hair. I want to cut his hair. "Yeah," I say, laughing to myself, "I'm ready." We walk back, trying to look professional and kept together. I stand with my shoulders back and my head held high. Emmett is still without a shirt when we reach the lobby of the emergency room. I throw a pair of scrubs at him, laughing my ass off when he puts the shirt on. It's two sizes too small leaving his with definite cleavage. It looks like a baby-tee on a professional wrestler. It looks fucking ridiculous. My dad knows what's up before I even say anything. "Don't go back there, Edward. They will come and get you when they know something." I ignore him; Tyler follows me through the double doors. "Your dad is kind of a dick," Tyler mentions, grabbing Bella's chart. I don't bother replying, because inside of a small hospital room, on a bed, is my wife. For one reason or another, we have both been hospitalized, but it's never an easy sight to see. My heart constricts and my hands fist. I want somebody to blame for this but there is no one. I want to break something. I want to cuss and scream and fight, until this is over. But I can't.
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Bella and Habit are already hooked up to their own separate heart monitors. Both of their beats echo through-out the tiny room. The lights are dim, and a nurse is looking over her charts. "How does it look?" I ask the nurse, rubbing the back of my fingers along Bella's cheek. I hear the nurse speaking, and I hear when Tyler responds in my absence. I can't make sense of their words, and it's not like before right now I'm Bella's husband, not her doctor. They can deal with the technical shit, all I can see is her. I kiss her cheek. Bella hooks her arm around my neck and she tells me how afraid she is. She tells me that she is sorry this is happening and that she swears that despite everything, this is never what she wanted. Bella is crying onto my shoulder, into my neck. Tyler touches my shoulder, asks to speak to me in the hallway. There is a ringing in my ears that won't go away. It drowns out his voice and the bright white lights from above are making me squint. I feel deaf, mute, and blind. I feel incapacitated, and I feel torn. Maybe a small part of really believes that if Bella would have just fucking relaxed, this wouldn't be happening. "Are you listening to anything I say?" Tyler asks, stranding with his back against a wall. I rub the back of my neck with my hand and smirk. "No, actually I'm not." He steps away from the wall and heads back into Bella's room, stopping just before he enters. "Well, you better try and get your shit together; I'm delivering your baby tonight." . . . I never did stick around to find out exactly what was going on with Bella. Tyler told me that Habit was coming, and that tonight I will become a father for the
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second time. He said everything would be OK, as long as we all stayed calm doesn't he know, I'm the poster child for staying fucking calm? I left B with him, and booked it outside. I needed some fucking air I needed to catch a breath. I smoked a half a pack of cigarettes, and to be fucking honest, I cried my fucking eyes out. There haven't been many times in my life where I have felt completely helpless. I'm good about controlling shit - I manipulate and influence everything around me so that I'm never not in control. But this shit with Bella, there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. I'm terrified for Habit I'm scared for my wife. There is a chance this will all blow over as soon as the baby is born. I can only hope that once Bella sees Habit with her own eyes, she will realize the way she has been feeling, isn't really her at all. There is also a chance shit could get worse. After I smoked my pack of cigarettes and wiped away my tears, I walked down to the food court and drank a liter of coffee. I sat back, allowed everything to sink in, and didn't bother to look or speak to anyone. A few of my colleagues tried to make conversation; I fucked them off and continued to sober myself up. It's funny really: how much I really don't give a shit about any of this. I work because I'm supposed to. My dad has drilled this shit into my head since I was a kid; I was always going to be a doctor, I never had a choice. I never had the chance to decide on my own - It was predetermined. After Gunner was born, fitting into this mold just seemed like the responsible thing to do. I spent so much time fucking Bella off because of this place, maybe we are both to blame. Maybe if I would have spent more time at home like she wanted me to, this wouldn't be happening. She wouldn't be fucked up in the head and she wouldn't be delivering our baby seven weeks early. Who the fuck am I really? I'm not so black and white like these other motherfuckers around here. I'm filled with a whole lot of gray I'm not legit. I'm not perfect. And no matter how hard I try, I don't fit in with these people. I'm fucked up. I have been since the day I was born. I'm everything my dad doesn't want me to be. I've earned my respect, I'm a great doctor but I still see the way the other
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doctors look at me. I'm too young, too privileged. I'm the son of Carlisle Cullen, and I'm sick of riding on his fucking coattails. I've been trying so damn hard to be everything I'm not, that everything around me, which is really important, has fallen apart. My wife is falling apart. And I've let her. When my phone rings in my pocket and Tyler's named lights up on the screen, I don't even bother to answer it. I don't know how long I've been away from my girl, but it's been much too long. I scoot my chair back, not giving a fuck as it screeches against the tile floor. Everyone looks at me, judging. I laugh to myself, knocking the chair over when I begin to run out of there. Never looking back. They can all go fuck themselves, because I quit. . . . Bella had an epidural while I was making life changing decisions. I go straight to her, walking past my dad and mom. Rosalie showed up, she's standing in the back corner. Emmett is sitting on the floor beside her, with his head leaned against her knee. The room is still dark, and when I get close enough to Bella I can see that she's sleeping - or trying to. From what I can tell, we've been at the hospital for a little over two hours. I check her charts and speak a little with Tyler. Her condition progressed quicker than they could stop it. Bella came into the hospital at four centimeters, and was already at nine. As soon as she hit ten, they would ask her to push. "The baby doesn't seem to be under any stress; her heartbeat is strong. They'll be ok." Tyler, who is rubbing his eyes, sits on the other side of Bella. "Are you tired?" I ask him, taking my girl's hand and kissing every single fucking finger.
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"Bro, I'm still fucking high." He laughs out loud, breaking the deafening silence in the room. He's quiet now, watching Bella breathe in her sleep. "Where did you go?" he asks. "Outside." I say without looking at him. "I had some shit I had to sort out." "You know I'm here for you, right? For both of you?" "Yeah, I know." Ty squeezes my shoulder, gets up from the bed and calls on the nurse. Bella wakes up, she sees me and smiles. We don't walk, we just touch. I rub her face and her arms. I rub her belly and along her collar bone. I lie beside her and kiss beneath her ear. I rub my nose along her jaw line and push back the hair around her face. I kiss her neck and brush my cheek against her chin. I hold her tight, and squeeze her firm. I cry a little more, and kiss her tears away when she cries a little hard. Her body calls on me she motherfucking sings. "I need to push," she says, looking scared. "Edward" "Shhhh," I sooth her, carefully getting out of bed. Tyler and a team of nurses are beside her in an instant. Emmett wishes us luck, as much as he wishes he could stay, he can't do it this time around. Rosalie goes with him, kissing Bella on the forehead before she leaves. Mom stays, but dad waits outside the room. They lift Bella's bed, and put her legs up in the stirrups. "Hold her leg, Edward," Tyler says, standing between her legs. He shakes his head, and smiles looking at Bella's center. "This is a vagina on drugs." He laughs loudly, snapping his gloves in place. "You're a fucking moron," I mumble, never as thankful to him as I am now. Tyler winks, before pretending to dive in. Bella holds my hand, I hold one leg and my mom holds another. She breathes through her teeth, and makes quiet little sounds as she pushes. Tyler talks her through the entire process, and I watch in awe. Nothing compares to the birth of a child nothing.
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Bella pushes - really, really, really hard - exhaling loudly and falling back against the bed. "Edward" she says. I nod, kissing her cheek. "You've got this, baby." I try and encourage. "I can't. Edward, I can't," "You have to," I say, helping her up so she can push again. With her chin tucked down, and her face turning red, Bella pushes "A little more, B. you're almost there." Tyler's eyes are wide. He guides our baby, and I will never ever forget that he was high when he did it. Bella lets out a huge breath, her head falls against my chest. She's crying, and it isn't because it hurts. She's tired, she worn she's fucking afraid of what will happen when the baby is out. "One more. Give me one more push." Tyler practically yells, excitement laced thickly through his tone. I take a look, and I can see her "Fuck, baby. I can see her I can fucking see her hair." My eyes well up and my heart beats fast. Bella looks at me, conflict torn across her features. She says, "OK." and gives the biggest push of all. It's fast after that. Habit is crowned. Then there is a head and a body, and the next thing I fucking know, Tyler is pulling out my baby girl. Relief washes over the entire delivery room when Habit cries her first cry. She is small, and I don't have to be a doctor to see that. Bella falls back, her forearm covers her eyes. How many times can I tell her I love her? How many ways can is show her how fucking thankful I am? I don't know, but I'll spend my life trying. "Go," Bella waves me away, pretending to smile. I kiss her on the forehead before I run over to Habit. They're cleaning her up,
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getting her ready for a trip to the NICU. They wrap her up, put a pink beanie on her head, giving me the chance to kiss her before she is transferred. I touch her small face; I've seen preemie babies before, but it's always different when it's our own. "She'll be OK," the nurse says, taking Habit over to Bella. I watch from the other side of the room as Bella meets her daughter for the first time. Their encounter is brief, I want to yell at the fucking nurse when she takes Habit away from her mother - they have no fucking idea. Bella looked at her and cried she didn't touch her. She didn't say a word. . . . Habit weighed in at four pounds, four ounces. She is small, but she's healthy, and already has a head of hair. It's hard to tell, but I think she looks more like me. "Has Bella seen her yet?" Rosalie asks, touching my little girls hand. "Only after the delivery." Rose smiles at me, but it isn't convincing. Bella's secret isn't so much a secret anymore. "I'm sure she'll be down after she gets some sleep." It's been five hours, I think to myself. "Probably," I say. . . "How is she?" Bella asks, sitting up in bed. "She's good. Maybe you should go see for yourself." I'm trying to remain understanding, I really am. "Will you go with me?"
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"You don't even have to ask." . . "She's so small." Bella looks down through Habit's incubator. "How long will she have to be here?" "At least a few weeks," I say, running my hand through my hair. "Can I hold her?" "Yeah." I crack a smile; maybe things are changing after all. "What do I do?" "Just sit down, I'll hand her to you." Bella's hair is up in a messy bun. She changed out of the hospital gown and into a pair of pajamas she bought before the baby was born. Bella moves slowly; she's hurt just delivered a baby. I wait until she is finally seated; handling Habit isn't as easy as handling a full-term baby. She comes with wires and monitors. She has to be wrapped tightly and kept warm. She fits in one hand. I hand her over to Bella, moving the wires to the side and showing Bella exactly how to cradle her. "I've held a baby before, Edward," she snaps I have to close my eyes and take a breath to keep myself from arguing with her. Bella is trying not to cry, her body is trembling and she looks as if she's holding a strangers child. I cross my arms over my chest, look away and wipe the stupid fucking tears off of my face before she sees. Rock the fucking chair, I want to tell her. Comfort her, she's yours! "Why don't I feel anything?" Bella asks quietly. I don't say anything; I only stand back and wonder how in the fuck I'm going to
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put my life back together this time. . . . AN: I know this chapter is on the short side, but I decided that leaving it at the birth was the best decision. A lot of you were asking if the entire story was going to be about Bella's depression. It may be frustrating for the people who haven't experienced PPD, and I can't say too much without giving away my story. Just know that my intentions are good and I'm never one to stretch things out. Thanks for reading. For any McFearless readers, I recently won two Slash Awards: Best Coming Out and Best Comedy. Thanks to everyone who voted, because I didn't even know I was nominated. TB23

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Chapter 10
I do not own Twilight; I only make it badass. Characters belong to S. Meyers, which is a complete shame. Setting, plot, characteristics and history are mine. Please do not use without my permission. Crawl is fictional. Please remember this is only a story and any semblance to true life is coincidence only. Unfie is my beta. Any mistakes are my own. Chapter 10 Bella Seven weeks later "You and I were made for this," Edward whispers. "I was made to taste your kiss." He pushes me onto my stomach and spreads my thighs open with his knee. "You and I were made to never fall away." His nails scratch my skin as he pulls my underwear down my legs. Our room is dark and it's cold, but the temperature is increasing. It's been weeks since Edward has touched me it's been weeks since I've wanted him too. I don't know if we're going to have sex because we want to, or if we're going to fuck because it's been so long. By the way he is pulling and pushing, my guess is that we're fucking. "Never fall away," he groans into my ear before thrusting inside of me. It's painful. He knew it would be. Sex for the first time after giving birth is never pleasurable in the beginning it's like losing your virginity again. He probably wants me to hurt. I deserve it. When I scream out, he laughs. Edward isn't laughing at me because I hurt. It's more of a reaction to how unbelievable I am. This one little-large scream is the most emotion I've shown since she's been born all he had to do what fuck it out of me. "I fucking hate you," he says, stroking deeplyclinging tightly. "I hate you so much."
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I grip onto the mattress and squeeze my eyes shut until the pain passes by. I'm crying, but that's beyond my control. I cry over everything or nothing at all. I have driven Edward to the edge of being desperate - edging madness. His roughness and his hopeless-recklessness has hacked my chest open and left my heart bleeding to death. How badly I want to touch him. How badly I want to tell him to slow down. How badly I want to tell him just to love me. He wants to hear me scream. He wants to know that I can still feel something. That he can affect me, after all Edward laces his fingers through my hair close to my scalp. The sound of our skin colliding isn't sexy. It's not erotic or delicious, it's fucking sad. I'm biting onto my bottom lip, refusing to make a single solitary sound. His fingers tighten. I bite harder. "I'm stronger than you, Baby," he says. I should give in and throw him a bone. All he seeks is a reaction, a sign of life. I need to stop being a dull, spiteful bitch but I can't. Although, he is stronger than me. The bed rocks and rolls. I can feel my entire body tremble when he slams into me. The back of my thighs are aching and my center stings. It feels amazing, so I should just scream. Edward is behind me; his breathing his fast and uneven. He smells great he smells like old times. He smells like love and lust and heaven. Too bad I'm forcing him to live in hell. He is so massive compared to me. What I can do physically is nothing compared to the damage Edward could conflict with his strength. Mmmmyea, old times. If I keep my mouth shut, he'll only want it more. "You don't feel anymore, Bella? Is that it?" he asks, gripping my hair tighter. Edward pulls my head back, exposing my neck. "Can you feel how I'm handling you? You are nothing. You can do nothing to me." Except mind fuck you.
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Edward wrenches my head to the side, slamming into me with more force my body can handle. I whimper, but it isn't good enough. I want to fall onto my chest, but Edward keeps me up by my hair. He laughs at me againright before he sinks his teeth into the side of my throat. His teeth break skin, and the combination of everything is more than I can handle. I yell out, finally. Edward pulls away, flips me on my back and pushes back inside of me. I can't contain my voice any longer. I'm being vocal and he loves it. I watch his face. Edward's eyes are closed, his eyebrows scrunched together in the middle, and he looks injured. I place a hand on his chest and his eyes snap open. "Don't touch me. I can't take it," he whispers. Edward's head drops forward; my hand slides around the back of his neck. I pull him down and hug him against my chest. Edward comes, but I don't. When he's done, he's is quick to remove his body from mine. Edward doesn't look at me... not really. He grips my face by my chin and turns my head so that he can inspect the bite mark, but he never really see's me. "You made me bleed," I say. "It's not that bad." Edward steps away from the bed. He's my husband, my belovedbut he makes me feel dirty. My legs are spread open in the way that he left me. I'm cum filled and fuck stained. There is no adoration in the way he puts distance between us. But I did this, didn't I? He's in the closet. I cover myself because I can't stand it. "Where are you going, Edward?" I already know the answer. It's the reason we were fighting before he fucked me. "Out," he says, grabbing a pair of jeans from a hanger. "Can you watch Gooch and Rabbit or do I need to call my sister over?" He pulls the dark denim up his legs. I guess he isn't taking a shower. I guess he wants me on him all night long. "Fuck you," I spit. He laughs - this time, at me. "And don't call her that." I pull the sheet off of the bed and wrap myself up. Rabbit. Some nickname she has. The nurses from the NICU couldn't believe that
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Edward and I actually named our baby Habit. Rabbit rhymes with Habit, and there you go. I even catch myself using it. I don't hate it. It's cute. Whatever. "Don't go." I sound pathetic. Edward grabs a dark green v-neck out of the closet and pulls it over his head. After he steps into his chucks, he turns towards me. "I'm going." "Where are you going to be exactly?" He runs his hands through his hair; it's disastrous and a brush wouldn't help much. "You don't trust me?" he asks as he stuffs his wallet and his pack of cigarettes into his pockets. I knew he had plans. He told me about them at the beginning of the week. It's not that I can't be here with the kids, it isn't like that. I'm capable, just unwilling. My relationship with Habit is much of the same as it was before she was even born. I don't hate her, It just is. I hold her sometimes, hoping that maybe this time will be the one time where it all comes to me: motherly instinct, affection, fondness. It has yet to happen. I have to be around her, she's my daughter. Habit needs me for stuff like eating. I breastfeed. I change her diaper sometimes. I've even given her a bath. The reality of this situation is that Edward does everything. I've given her a bath and changed a diaper. I have a closer relationship with the breast pump than I actually do with Rabbit Habit. Edward used to be understanding, now he's frustrated. "Should I trust you?" And to be a total bitch I say, "I sure hope Jessica won't be there." Edward punching his fist through the bathroom door was what I was driving for. I don't even flinch. Edward pulls his hand out of the door and turns towards me. I'm not scared. I am disappointed when he doesn't give me the fight I wanted, though. Instead he pushes the damaged door open and slams it closed with him on the other side.
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He shouldn't have don't that. It woke her up. "Edward, she's awake." He doesn't answer me. "Edward, the baby is awake," I repeat, knocking on the door. "Edward" The door opens. "Then go fucking get her!" he yells. He smells like toothpaste and cologne. After the door is slammed in my face, I drop the sheet and put on a pair of pajamas. Habit has been home for a little over two weeks, and I haven't gone to her once during the night. I'm a poor excuse for a mother, but no one really understands how I feel. There is a wall between Habit and I. Nothing I do, no amount of convincing or tricking changes the fact that I can't be around her like I can with Gooch. And I don't think it's one-sided. Every time I'm with her, she cries. Edward said it's in my head. He's probably right, but that doesn't change anything. Her room is between Edward's office and Gunner's bedroom. She's in her crib, crying. Habit is very beautiful; a spitting image of her dad. She's still small, but not preemie small. Habit is new born small; the size she would have been if she was born when she was supposed to be. "What's the matter, Rabbit?" I ask while keeping my distance. I don't want her to wake Goochie, so I need to stop this crying. She probably needs to be fed, and there is a bottle down in the fridge, but Gunner might wake up by then. I lift the baby out of her crib, set her on the changing table and change her diaper quickly. Afterward, I try to rock her to sleep but she's hungry, not tired. I lift my shirt, but she won't latch on. It's because she hates me, or because she knows that I don't think favorably about her. "Sorry kid, it's this or nothing," I say just as she latches on. I circle my neck while holding Habit in place. I'm sore from Edward; the bite mark on my skin is only a reminder that he is across the hall getting ready to go out with his friends. He's really only going to a small bar with Tyler and Emmett, but I don't want him to go anywhere. Not because I don't trust him. I do, I would just rather have him stay at home and be miserable with me. Sad, but true. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes later, Habit is done eating. I'm unsure whether or not Edward is still in the house. I didn't hear the car pull out of the drive way and he didn't come to tell me he was leaving. Not that he would anyways.
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I try to put Habit back into her bed but she whines so I hold her while I cross the hall into my bedroom. It's empty. I flip the light on and turn around to head downstairs, but Edward is standing in my way. I jump because I'm scared. "You scared me." "Sorry." He smirks; so unforgiving. "I'm leaving now. I'll be back later." Edward looks at the baby in my arms, but he knows better than to get his hopes up. "Put her back in bed and call me if you need anything." "I need something," I say. Edward laughs while running his hand through his hair. He knows I'm full of shit. I don't need anything. I just don't want him to go. "What do you need, Baby?" Edward takes Habit from me. I don't fight him for her. I'm sure he only took her because it's what I want. "I need for you to stay home." There is zero fight behind my words. This is a battle lost. I'm clinging on with desperation I need him to stay, simple as that. "Bella, I'm not staying home. I need a fucking break. I'll be back in a few hours." He turns and steps away from me towards Habit's bedroom. My hands are fisted at my sides and I'm breathing heavily through my nose. Nothing I say will get him to stay. My argument is stupid and redundant. I can cry, but my tears don't mean shit anymore. The further he gets away from me the more my blood boils. I take a half-step forward, ready to deck him on the back of the head, but I stop. Instead, I take off my wedding ring and throw it directly at him. It stops the entire world. The ring lands at Edward's feet after hitting him in the center of his back. He stares at it for what seems like forever. My heart has stopped working, my blood no longer flows and I am afraid of what I just started. I'm more nervous when Edward continues to walk into Habit's room, leaving me in the hallway by myself and my ring. I wish I never took it off. I went too far much too far. I want my ring back on my finger where it belongs. I can't hear what Edward is doing with Habit, and I'm not certain if I have enough time to retrieve my wedding ring before he comes back out. I run forward, kneel down to pick it up but he get's it first. Edward kneels down to
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my level and holds the gold band in my face. I'm crying again, but who gives a fuck. I groan when Edward pulls me up to my feet by my forearm. I don't moan because his grip is too tight, I moan because I've hurt his heart so badly. He pushes me against the wall and holds me there. Taking my hand, he slips the ring back on. With each one of his hands flat against the wall beside my head, Edward is looking down between us. When his eyes finally meet mine, I gasp. They're a violent delight; a perfect madness to our tragic situation. "That's the second time you've thrown that ring at me, Bella." His tone is grave and his eyes are severe. "Do it again, and you won't get it back." Edward pushes himself off of the wall and walks away. I practically jump out of my skin when the front door slams shut. Thankfully she didn't wake up. . . . The next morning Edward sleeps until noonin the guest room. I can't even remember the last time we slept apart. Edward and I have always had two unspoken rules - we don't talk about divorce and we don't sleep apart...no matter what. We broke both of those in one night. I've managed to get both of the kids up and fed without fucking everything up. Edward has mentioned quitting his job at the hospital a couple of times. Who knows if he'll actually go through with it. But if he does, I need to convince him beforehand that I can take care of the kids by myself. He doesn't trust me with themhow fucked up is that. How deserved is that? Habit is sleeping, Gunner is playing on the floor with his toys, and I'm lying on the couch. I should clean something or start a load of laundry, but I'm not, and I won't. I haven't done anything like that in a month. Edward does everything. I'm too busy being sucked into this hole of self-indulgence and neglect. I start every single day with a small inner pep talk, stating that today will be the day that I get myself out of thisfunk. I'll start off small by cleaning the bathroom or doing the dishes for Edward. Maybe I'll get Rabbit dressed or I'll take Gunner out of the house. Every
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morning before I climb out of bed I tell myself that today I will be a better wife and mother. The second my feet hit the carpet, my confidence is gone and I forget everything. "We need to talk." Edward is standing in the hallway that leads back to the guest room. He's wearing a pair of cut off shorts and nothing else. It used to do something for me, now I'm indifferent. I feel nothing - another side effect of my astonishing character. "About what?" I ask just as Gunner throws a block and it nearly hits me in the face. Edward sits next to me, placing my feet in his lap. "I'm sorry I left you last night" he starts but I try to interrupt. "Let me talk, Bella." "Fine." "I realize you're going through something, but I need you to get your head straight." From his tone I can sense that Edward is ready for me to get defensive. We can't talk without it turning into a fight anymore. Our home is tension filled and battle ready. "Oh, so you want me to take some pills or" He stops me before I finish. "I don't give a fuck about what you do, but this isn't working anymore. Habit has been home for two weeks and you've done nothing. The house is a fucking mess, the kids are a mess you're a fucking mess." He rubs his face with the palms of his hands. "I'll do whatever you need me to do, Baby, but this" -he waves his hand over my body- "isn't an option anymore." "Whatever." "I'm serious, Bella. If we need to send the kids to be with my parents for a while, we can do that. I won't leave you alone, but I'm fucking done." I sit up, ready to break. "You're not sending my kids anywhere." I try to stand up so I can avoid this entire conversation, but he stops me and forces me to sit. "What do you want from me, Edward?" His eyes shine with glossy tears. I hate it when he cries. "I want you to get better."
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"There's nothing wrong with me." My chin quivers; I'm such a bad liar. "I did fine by myself last night and while you slept in. Habit is sleeping and Gunner is playingeverything is normal." "No, everything is not normal. You are not normal. You need helpmaybe you need to talk to someone." I laugh in his face. "Do you remember the last time I tried to talk to somebody. You fucked me on their desk and" "Bella!" Edward yells over me. "This isn't about that. This is different, we're not kids anymore, B. This isn't only about me and you, there are fucking children involved." "Then write me up a prescription, Dr. Cullen. Oh, wait, you're not a doctor anymore, are you?" "I haven't quit my job yet, but I will. If you don't get your shit together I will quit my job." The hostility is gone from his voice. He's left shattered and mangled. During the silent standoff and after many attempts, Gunner stands himself up using the edge of the coffee table. It's the first time I've seen him do it. Apparently he's been doing it all week. Edward doesn't say this vindictively, but I take it that way. I feel left out of such an important milestone. When I ask Edward for a reason why he didn't tell me that Gunner can stand up by himself, Edward says it's because I was sleeping. "All week?" I cry. "Yeah, all fucking week!" he yells back. We sit in silence for a while. My brother wakes up, but Emmett is good about giving us our distance. He knows when to get involved and when not to. He scoops up Gunner, asks about the baby, and gets himself something to eat. Em picks up a lot of the slack around the house. Edward can only do to much, and considering my complete incompetence, Emmett is needed quite often. I can always count on my brother to keep our conversations safe. The other night I sat on the couch while he folded Goochie's laundry. He spoke to me about our mom and Jack. The topic used to set my anger off, but now numbs the constant buzz of my uselessness. I mean, it makes perfect fucking sense, right? I am my mother's daughter, and she is a piece of shit. So why would anybody expect me to be any
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different? The only dissimilarity between her and I is that I would never leave my kids behind. I might not be able to correct the way I feel about Habit, but I'll never abandon her. She's mine. I'm sure I'll end up fucking her up with all of this, but it won't be because I left her to start a new life with a new family. Emmett, of course, didn't agree with my observation. He and Renee are not mother-son close. They're working on a friendship because he hasn't totally forgiven her. Who knows if he ever will. Anger and abandonment are not easy to overcome no matter who you are. He tried to assure me that she and I are not the same. I believe him to a point, but it doesn't change the fact that I suck as a mom. Making a quick exit, Emmett kisses the top of my head and rushes back towards his room. He has work today. Sorry, but he can't stick around and hang out. Truth is that he probably heard about my fleeting lunacy the night before and wants to avoid me completely before I turn on him. Which I've done, more than once. Turns out that I'm a sucky sister, too. "He's moving back in with Rosalie," Edward says after my brother is gone. "How do you know?" "He told me last night." I knew it would happen eventually. The divorce with Angela has been finalized. He lost the house and agreed to pay her a chunk of money for the next six months. A hefty penalty, but that's what happens when you marry a person you don't love in the first place. "Come here," Edward whispers, pulling me over onto his side of the couch. I climb onto his lap, hiding my face between his shoulder and his neck. He kisses me face and holds my hand. Edward rolls me up into a little ball and holds me tight. "I love you, OK." "OK." "And soon, none of this shit will even matter." I wrap my arms around him and nod. I don't believe him, but that's beyond the point. I need this; any comfort he is willing to give, I'm willing to take. "Do you still have the appointment with Tyler today?" he asks after moving all the hair away from my neck and face.
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"Yeah," I answer. "I've rescheduled twice, so I need to go." His fingers sweep along my thigh, my arm, my face. "Can you go by yourself?" "Why? I thought you were coming with me." He sighs. "Someone needs to stay with the kids, Bella." "You're sister?" "Busy." I lift myself off of his lap. "Fine. I'll go alone." It's how I'm most likely to end up anyway. . . . The ride to Tyler's is quiet. I'm tired of fighting and I'm tired of being stuck inside of my own head. I still feel that glass between myself and the world; nothing is quite right. I walk around in a dream state; my ears are clogged and my vision is distorted. Unfortunately for me, this is my reality, and I have two choices - I can get better, or things can remain the way they are. Seeking help requires looking for saving in other placesmaybe even strangers. I can't talk to Edward about this because he doesn't completely understand. Medically, he gets it, but emotionally, he doesn't entirely grasp the defenselessness I feel. Because I'm his wife and not a faceless patient, he wants me to snap out of thisand I can't. I could talk to Rosalie, but she would have a biased opinion. I'm her friend, her sister-in-law and a confidant. Because of that, Rosalie would probably only tell me what I want to hear and not the utter truth like I need. Emmett doesn't know what to do with me, Alice is a bitch, Jasper is too concerned with Alice, my dad is dead and my mother is irrelevant. The only other person who is close to me is Tyler. He is more Edward's friend than mine, but he is my doctor and Edward encouraged me to ask him for help. Actually it went more along the lines of this, "You better ask Tyler where to go for this shit, or I'll drag you somewhere by
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your fucking hair." He apologized after I threw a spatula at him and accused him of being a piece of shit husband for forcing me to go to the doctor by myself. It's our way of saying, I love you. "Mrs. Cullen," Riley, Tyler's receptionist and sometimes girlfriend, greets me from behind her desk. "Hey, Riley," I say, lifting my oversized sunglasses to the top of my head. "Is Tyler back there?" "Yep, he's waiting for you." She's a nice girl, but sometimes I feel like kicking her fucking teeth in for no apparent reason. I need to work on my anger and it's spitfire set off. Back in my regular exam room, Tyler is lying back on the examination table with his eyes closed and his hands behind his head. After all of this time, it still takes me a moment to get used to how alike him and Edward are. Tyler isn't quite as bulky as Edward, or as tallbut the dissimilarities really end there. It's kind of freaky. "Hung over?" I ask, dropping my purse a blue chair. Tyler opens one eyes and lifts his head to look at me. "Oh, it's only you. I thought you might be someone important." I laugh. "Thanks a lot." He sits up and stretches. I look away. This mirror image shit makes me feel uncomfortable sometimes. I'm in no way, shape, or form attracted to Tyler...but I catch myself staring at him, and I don't want him or anyone else to ever get the wrong impression. "Not what I meant, Bella." Tyler jumps off of the table. "I thought you we're a nurse, or worse, Riley." Trading places, I sit on the examination table and Tyler stands by the door. "Did you two break-up again?" "She's a crazy stalker."
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I roll my eyes. "You'll be back together by the end of the week." "You're probably right. I dig the crazy ones." Tyler picks up my file, rummages around some and tells me he'll be back in five. "Get bare ass naked from the waste down, because I'm going to search around your" "Tyler, I get it." I laugh, waving him off. On his way out the door Tyler stops and asks about Edward's whereabouts. I give him a look, Tyler shuts up and leaves. I'm sure he'll call Edward; as much as Tyler loves to joke around, I'm sure being my doctor has to be slightly uncomfortable. It is for me. Especially when we're alone and it's this type of examination. My husbands best friend has seen my Scarlett. That's not exactly typical unless it's coming from a Jerry Springer stage. A couple minutes later Tyler comes back. He's professional and asks me all of the customary post-delivery questions. My answers are stale and one-worded. During the actual examination, Tyler and I do not say a word to one another. He snaps on his gloves, a woman nurse comes into the room and helps me put my legs up, Tyler turns on his examination lamp and he more or lessdives in. In a tight, professional voice, Tyler tells me that I've healed well. After turning off the lamp, he stands up and lifts up the paper blanket and presses around my stomach. "Is this OK?" and "Is that OK?" Where I answer, "Yes." and "Yes." "Maybe you need a new doctor?" Tyler cracks a joke. The nurse doesn't get it, but I laugh loudly because I'm nervous. "Maybe you're right." I can't even look at his facethen again, I feel more comfortable with him than I would anyone else. "Can we talk?" I ask him. Tyler smiles; it isn't as crooked as Edward's, but its comforting. "After you're dressed." Tyler pulls the blanket down and tucks it under my legs. "No more Bella vagina for me." After I'm dressed, Tyler comes back. It's awkward. I stand at one side of the room and he stands at another. For a person who knows me in such an intimate way, I think I surprise him when I say, "Tyler, I think I hate my daughter." I'm hyperventilating; Tyler crosses the small room before I loose it. He pulls me against his chest and whispers into my ear. I'm too panicked to understand what
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he's saying, but whatever it is, it's the truth. Once I've caught my breath, he sits me in the blue chair and kneels down in front of me. Ty has known what's been going on with me since before Rabbit was born. We've never spoken to each other about it; a con of being so close to your physician. He's here to help me, but I don't see it that waynot until now. "You're going to be OK, Bella," he says. He's talking, talking, talkingI'm nodding, nodding, nodding. Tyler is naming off people he knows and things we can do. "I should have said something earlier" he trails off. I tell him not to blame himself. I'm the damaged one in this situation, not him. Tyler doesn't say another word after that. He hugs me and doesn't let goat least not until the office door opens and Edward is standing there. Tyler and I stand straight up. I grab my purse, Tyler runs a hand through his hair and Edward remains speechless. I don't know exactly what he's thinking, but given his track record, I can probably guess. We're jammed in this three-way stand off and no one wants to be the first one to say anything. It was innocent, of course, but my husband is burned to the wire do I really expect him to react any differently? He's insecure and wounded, and the last thing he needed to walk in on was his wife hugged up on his best friend. We've been here before; remember Jake? I expect him to lash out. I brace myself for the onslaught of mean words and physical grabbingbut all I get is a dirty look before Edward turns and walks away. "Shit," Tyler mumbles beneath his breathe. "It's fine." I shake my head. "Don't worry, just let me talk to him." I don't run out of the office, but I walk quickly and when I get outside I'm once again surprised by my husband. He's leaned against the Escalade with a cigarette in his mouth and both of his hands in his hair. "I felt bad because I couldn't come to your doctor's appointment with you." Edward laughs after taking another hit of his smoke. "Jasper is at the house with the kids. I was that fucking desperate" "Jazz?" I laugh, taking a few more steps close to Edward. His eyes lock with mine. His tired and hurt eyes. "I'm not mad at you for that." Edward nods his head towards Tyler's practice. "He's my best friend, and you're my
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wifeneither one of you would ever do that to me. I'm just fucked up right now, Smella." "I know," I say, stepping a little bit close. When I'm close enough, Edward pulls me forward by my shirt and hugs me so fucking tightly. He's crying, and I hate it. So instead of saying anything, I let just let him. Sometimes not everything is about me. I don't know how long we're standing there for, but it seemed like a while. Edward calling Tyler a -motherfucker- grabs my attention. Tyler, who looks like a nervous wreck, is standing by the office door apologizing over and over again. "Ed, I swear it was innocent, Man" and "She needed a fucking hug, what did you want me to do?" and "Hug your fucking wife every once and a while I won't have to do it for you." Oh, and "I looked at her vagina, but I had to!" "Maybe I touched it, but I had to do that too." "You're only digging yourself a bigger hole, Tyler" I say before burying my face back into Edward chest. All is well when we leave Tyler's office. Instead of heading back to the house, Edward takes me to lunch. Nothing is OK, but we sit together and he touches me. Edward kisses my cheek and plays with my hair. I sit on his lap and lean my head back against his shoulder. I still have a huge weight on my shoulders; something tells me that none of this will be easy, but for the first time I feel a small sense of hope. Maybe everything will turn out alright after all... maybe. . . . AN: I have some news, and this might not make some of you happy. A couple of you may have noticed the slight change in the Crawl summary notice the novella? For those of you who write FanFiction, you know that this isn't easy. For those of you who read, you know that pulling off a sequel isn't that simple either, and most of the time sequels are lacking. Being that you are all a readers and a lot of you are writers, you should all know that pulling off a trilogy is damn near impossible.
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CW was a successful attempt at a sequel in my opinion. I knew going into Crawl that I had to pull something off or it would end in complete failure. So I decided to put a little part of myself into the story; Bella's depression. I've noticed that as I've been writing, that maybe that was a mistakeonly because it is been really dragging me down. This is not an easy task for me, and I didn't think it would be this hard to write about. I also wasn't expecting the support. The stories you ladies have shared with me have been very inspiring, and because of that I feel obligated to write to the best ability. I've never been perfect with grammar and such, but those of you who are loyal to me know that despite my imperfections I can write a story. I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this shit I like honesty and realism. This happens to real people. It happened to me and its happened to most of you. And because of that you should understand why I'm doing this. I cannot, for my sanity, write a full length fic about Bella being depressed. In a way this has been therapeutic, but in others, it's been just bad. I think it's a story that needs to be told, and I'm going to tell it I promise I will not quit until its done. It's just going to be told in a more timely manner. Instead of thirty chapters, I'm thinking more like fifteen. Not only do I not have the strength for this, I don't want to drag it out. I know exactly how I'm going to leave Closerward and Smella, and for the sake of their integrity, I'll end this sooner than later. I hope you understand what I'm saying to you. My Closer readers and I have always had a special bond. Anyone who read closer and made it though to the other side is good in my book. If any of you are original Closer readers, that's even better. I've always been true to this fic, and I refuse to cheat it ever. Fuckward has a reputation to uphold; he's a bad motherfucker and I intend to leave him that way. P.S - Edward's words in the first paragragh are lyrics from a song; Civil Twilight - Letters from the sky Thanks for reading, TB23

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Chapter 11
I do not own Twilight; I only make it bad-ass. Characters belong to S. Meyers. Setting, plot, characteristics and history are mine. Please do not use without my permission. Crawl is fictional. Any semblance to real life is coincidence only. UNF4Rob is my beta. Crawl Chapter 11 Edward I fucking hated myself that night; the night I left Bella alone. The night I fucked her and disregarded her like she was nothing. That was the night she begged and pleaded. She asked me to please, please, please stay. "Please, please, please don't leave me here alone." And what did I do? I fucking left to hang with my boys. At first, I left for all the right reasons. I was in a bad, bad place; a very bad, bad spot. I wanted to fucking murder her. I wanted to choke the fucking air from her lungs and watch her eyes roll. I was that mad, that fucking disturbed by her behavior. Gooch was eating dinner, Emmett was feeding Rabbit for me, and Bella, she was slamming cupboards and pulling out her fucking hair. "You're not going, Edward!" she shrieked. "I need you here, with me, for me. What if she wakes up?" Bella pointed at the baby. She, as in our daughter, Habit. Bella referred to her as, she. That's where I lost my fucking mind. I tried to be understanding, and for the good of our marriage, I tried to be thoughtful. But there is only so much a person can take. Cut that in half, and you have what a person like me can take. Smella and I have been through a lot of shit together, but watching her point her finger at our baby and call her, she, was the end of my unconditional understanding.
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I know she's sick. I know she can't help how she feels only she can. Yelling at her in front or our children and her brother probably didn't make her feel any better, but it helped me. I had so much pent up emotion I fucking blew. At first, Bella and I were going back and forth; a bicker here, and a nag there. She asked me to stop. "Let it go, Edward," she said, but I did the exact opposite. I was past letting go. "You're worthless, Bella." and "All you do is fucking sleep." I didn't mean a single fucking syllable. Fuck that, my wife is everything to me. I was a ticking bomb, a false alarm a wrecking bomb, and I was simply on a fucking roll. Emmett did a good job at keeping his mouth shut. The one time he decided not to, I cut into him so fucking fast, he didn't have a chance to finish his sentence. After that, he took the kids from the room. He knows I would never intentionally hurt his sister. I told a few lies about her character, and she threw a few picture frames. The phone rang; I tore that shit out of the wall. Bella pushed me. She scratched, yelled, and cried. But she's always crying. "You're fucking crazy!" and "You're a terrible mother. Only you would hate your daughter. Only you!" "You don't get it!" she sobbed. "You never get it." The fight continued into our bedroom. I fucked her, hard, and good, and strong; I was ruthless. God, I wanted to hurt her. I wanted her to feel a fraction of the pain she causes me on a daily basis. I was messed up. I just needed her to be okay, just for one night. I needed one night for myself. There had been so much stress on my shoulders I needed a night with my boys. I wasn't even going to go after I fucked her the way that I did. She was bleeding between her legs and on her neck. My anger dissipated, and guilt replaced that agony. I felt shameful for an entire five minutes before Habit started to cry. Then I was angry again. Bella is so dismissive. So quick to let everyone else handle Rabbit. After another round of fighting, resulting in some more untrue words and a
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thrown wedding ring, I fucking left. I stood outside the front door for almost an hour before I grew big enough balls to actually leave. Emmett and Tyler were waiting for me, and I wasn't lying, I needed the night to myself. I hate speaking to her the way I did. It hurts my chest and stings my eyes. Afterward, my hands shake and my chin quivers a little. There just isn't much that I can do to get a reaction out of Bella anymore. She's never happy. She's never content. She's always tense and blank. I learned pretty fucking quickly that the only way I'm going to get Bella to interact with me is to fight with her, so I provoke. I get some sick-twisted pleasure watching her trip on everything I say. I mean, at least she's fucking acknowledging me. If we fight, there are signs of life. I sat at the bar with my head filled up with smoke. I didn't speak a word; Emmett and Ty allowed me to sit in my own puddle of rage and self-pity. I drank, and I drank, and I drank, until I became so drunk, I started to talk and I didn't shut the fuck up. I've never been the type of person, despite my profession, to believe that talking to a shrink would offer any kind of real assistance. Do they ever offer advice that we haven't already been given? A few years back, after Bella and I broke up and got back together, she forced us into that situation with that therapist, Annie. That was a fucking disaster, but Tyler is pretty fucking convincing. When he turns down the douche-bag persona and turns up the professional, he is impressive. Given Bella's history of depression and anxiety, I should have acted a lot quicker than I did. But she's my girl, and I don't know maybe by suggesting the idea that she needed help outside of our home felt like betrayal on my behalf. We've always dealt with everything together, I didn't want this to be any different. It felt like failure, and it made me feel like less than a man because I couldn't take care of my own wife. But she was overwhelmed, and so was I. So while Tyler spoke about different programs and ideas, I actually listened. I was fucking wasted, but my ears were open kind of. "Tuck your balls, motherfucker, and make sure you get Bella's head right. You can't do this by yourself." Tyler laughed, paying for another round of drinks. He made the solution sound so fucking simple: she needs a therapist, some pills, and some time. Of course, shit is always easier said than done, and my reality is a lot to swallow. So after Tyler gave his speech about how to rescue Bella, I drank some more. I was a shoddy mess.
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I had to be carried out of the bar by my best friend and my brother-in-law. Emmett drove us home after we dropped Tyler off at his place. I looked at the clock on the microwave after Em assisted me into the house. It was only a little after midnight, which meant that I had managed to get myself shit faced in a little over an hour. I can't drink like I used to. I couldn't walk up the stairs by myself and Emmett wasn't going to carry me, so I slept in the spare room downstairs with him. I didn't want to sleep apart from my wife, but I wasn't going to wake her up for another round of "who can scream louder", because that's what would have happened. The next morning, well, the next day, I was exhausted. I skipped on Bella the night before, and unfortunately, we didn't have anyone to watch the kids while she went to Tyler's for her check-up. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remember coming up with a drunk-induced speech about change and reorganization of our lives. We owe it to our kids to be somewhat normal. I don't want to fuck them up completely. But when I broke the news about the sitter, we were back to square one. After she left, I felt bad. I felt guilty. So I called Jasper, and he agreed to hang out with the offspring while I met up with Bella at Tyler's. I had to teach the motherfucker how to change a diaper before I left the house. This was a waste of time because when we got home from the doctor's appointment, Habit's diaper was still on backwards. But like I said, I was desperate. Walking in on Tyler and Bella hugging was a true fucking test of my character. But what kind of hypocrite would I be if I asked her to change her shit up, but I wasn't willing to do a little changing of my own? I simply shut the door, bit the inside of my cheek, and left the entire fucking office building. I looked at the sun for a good five minutes afterward, too. I legitimately burned my retinas by staring straight into the suns UV-rays in order to keep my temper in check. It was the only thing I could do to keep myself, to some extent, calm. But then she was there, touching me, kissing me, and it was like old times. You see, the shit all around us can become damaging, and chaotic, and dysfunctional, and scary, but our core never changes. With one little touch, everything is okay. She is my girl. She is my wife, and nothing will ever change that. Before the kids, the marriage, the house, and the break-up, we were just a couple of stupid kids who refused to believe that we were in love. We wasted so much time back then, it would we fucking dumb to allow something like that to happen again. We've grown so much since then, and whatever the fuck is going on with Bella is
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just another fork in the motherfucking road. As long as our foundation is strong, nothing else matters. And let me fucking tell you, our foundation is fucking secure. I know a thing or two, about a thing or two including foundations. I worked hard to protect ours, and the ground we base our relationship on is sturdy as fuck. Kristie Alley could do the motherfucking cha-cha on our foundation and it would not collapse, it's that strong. "Are you ready to wake up, Smella?" I kissing her chin and rub my nose along her jaw line. She smiles and shakes her head. It's been a week since her doctor appointment with Tyler. Not much has improved with her relationship with Habit, but we're both putting forth an honest effort toward our marriage. I still get mad, but when I do, instead of bullying her around, I walk away. She still throws shit, but she throws it across the room and not at me. It's all about progress. I quit my job. My dad bitched at me for about five minutes before I told him to go fuck himself and hung up the phone. When I told Bella, she just rolled her eyes and continued to feed Goochie. I have plans, but my family comes first. Being around your wife all day long is hard. Being around your wife, who is depressed, is worse. It's been an eventful week, and since I'm working on not being such a dick-face, I've been forced into alternative methods of dealing with my anger issues. I walk the dogs. I walk the kids. I walk myself. I walk. I walk a lot. I walk a whole fucking bunch.
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I am one mean, walking motherfucker. I can speed walk, slow walk, run-walkmy walking skills are immense. I can walk up hills, down hills, around hills. I can walk while holding my breath. I can walk and light a cigarette. I can walk and cuss. I can walk and chew gum. I can even shadow box while I walk. It's better to punch air, because if I punch my wife for being a miserable twat, I'll go to jail. If I go to jail, then I'll be the miserable twat. So I walk. My neighbor even asked if he could walk with me a couple days ago. He said that he admires my dedication, like I'm doing all of this walking for my fucking health. I'm a smoker! Smokers don't walk for hours because of their health. I'm doing this for Bella's wellbeing. I do all of this walking so I don't give into temptation and murder my wife and bury her in the back-yard like a out-of-control Slim Shady song. Since I've been walking so much, Bella has been forced to be a mother to our daughter. Once I start walking, I don't stop until every bad thought is gone. You should see my thighs, they're rock fucking hard. It's all about progress. Yesterday I went walking and I wasn't even mad. I just left. Rabbit had a dirty diaper and I knew if I stuck around it would be me changing the dirty deed. I was out, and I left my cell phone at home so she couldn't call me back to the house. "Can we reschedule?" Bella asks, stretching her body straight. She stretches her arms, her finger, her calves, and her toes. The babies are still sleeping; it's odd having the morning to ourselves. They're almost always awake before we are. Which makes alone time hard to come by. Plus, Bella is always moody and weird. She makes for a good Debbie Downer but not today. Today, she smiles. "Smella," I whisper, sliding my hands between her thighs. "Hmmm?" she closes her eyes, delicately parting her legs for me. "If we're fast, we have time." This afternoon will be her first appointment with a psychiatrist. She's nervous, but I can make her feel better with my cock.
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Oh, and to be completely fucking frank, I'm nervous too. Psychiatrist, therapists, counselors, they all suck. "I don't want fast, Edward." She smiles in the morning. Yesterday's make-up in smeared under her eyes, her breath smells like daybreak, and her skin is still bed-sheet warm. "I can be slow, too, baby." "Show me." I push the blankets back from Bella's legs. She's wearing a bright green tank top and a pair of yellow cotton boy shorts. Her legs are still full and her hips are still wide. Bella's hair is all kind of morning-fucked up, but she looks beautiful to me. Her smile is the best part. I raise Bella's legs and set her ankles on my right shoulder. She laughs the best kind of laugh and lifts her hips so I can pull her underwear up her thighs, over her knees and off her feet. I'm already hard. I've bee hard since I woke up this morning. Sometimes when Bella wears this type of tank top to bed, she'll roll a certain way and her nipple will show. Just a little nipple out the side of the tank top, not the entire thing; its enough to make me curious it's enough to make me hard. It's been a week since I've had sex with my wife, and the last time isn't worth speaking about. I said some really fucked up things and acted less than fucking noble. I'll make it up to her this time. This time, I'll love her good. I pull down my basketball shorts and release Preston. Bella looks at him while she bites her bottom lip. Her Scarlett looks so pretty all pinkish and warm. Her vagina has definitely changed since she's had babies. Not changed in a bad way, just changed matured. Bella's vagina has matured. Placing my hands on her knees, I spread her legs open and lower myself between her. My hand sneaks beneath her tank top; I touch her breasts. Her breath tickles my neck, and her legs tremble at my sides. "I love you," I say sweetly, close to her lips.
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She giggles, and it doesn't really sound like a "sexy" giggle, but lately, you never really know what to expect with Bella, so I move along. I kind of notice the baby-monitors that are set on the dresser as the sound of sleeping children echo through the little speakers. They're already overdue to wake up, and if they do, they'll cry. They'll cry and want stuff, and they won't shut up until they get what they want. Diapers will need changing, eggs will need scrambling, and my legs will need walking. I shouldn't be wasting our precious time with all of this slow love making. I should just stick my dick in her and go for it. Maybe if we're fast we can get out of bed before the kids. We have been given an opportunity here, a head start on the day. But she wants slow. This makes sense because Bella is lying here like a dead fucking fish. "Baby, are you okay?" I ask, making myself comfortable between her legs; my dick lies between us. Bella lazily nods. "Yeah, I'm sorry." She kisses my chest and pushes up on my hips so that Preston lines up with Scarlett. "I'm just tired. I promise." Without another word, I ease myself inside of her. Bella's eyes close, exhaling a slow breath; she keeps her hands firmly gripped onto my hips. I watch her for a moment, then I fall down onto my elbows. Bella flutters little whispers in my ear about love and forgiveness. She speaks softly about forever and ever. It's sweet, and it's nice to hear; we don't say the good shit as much as we do the bad. I think it's a marriage thing. You're a dick to the people closest to you, it's just the way it is. Bella holds on while my hips slide, dip, and swirl. She isn't whispering sweet nothings anymore, but the heavy breathing is just as good. I roll my hips deep, and kiss every inch of skin my lips can reach. I miss being this close to her. Call me a pussy, but I'm feeling kind of sentimental. This is a small relief in a deep shit-pool of dysfunction. Everything matters especially this. This is motherfucking progress. I reach down and hook my hand beneath Bella's knee. The reposition opens her up, and I fall in a little deeper. I won't last long. I've spent the last seven days whacking off in the shower between cleaning the kitchen and caring for crying kids.
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Rubbing one out has become more about relieving pressure and stress than it is about having an orgasm. Bella might be a depressed psychopath but she's still beautiful and she still makes me hard. I still want her, always. She's refuses to spend all day in bed, no matter how much it hurts her to be up, so I've seen a lot more of her in the last few days. I'm down with the housewife hair-do and the cut off sweats. I think pajamas are erotic, especially with Gerber bananas all over them. I dig it when her nipples leak. I like her overgrown eyebrows and her stubbly legs. We've been though the hairy vagina thing before, so that's nothing new. Although, she's good about keeping it shaved. And it's the little things like a bald hooha that let me know she still cares. If Bella we're completely miserable she wouldn't care that Scarlett grew a beard, would she? But she does, so she might not mind having hairy legs, but the landscaped cooter is progress. Smella isn't entirely gone, just misguided. And now she laughing during slow sex. I push up onto the palms of my hands, keeping a slow rhythm with my hips. "What's so funny?" I'm not entirely offended. She covers her face with her hands and laughs louder. "I'm so sorry." Bella's face is red with embarrassment and her eyes are lit up with bliss. "I have that appointment later, and I'm sure once I get back other stuff will need to be done, so" she trails off, looking under my arm toward the TV. Eric Northman is currently swimming in a river, half-naked and in the sun. He seems drunk. I didn't think that vampires could get drunk. "You're watching TrueBlood while we have sex?" He big brown eyes meet mine. "I know but I won't have time later." She sighs. "And you know how I feel about Eric." I stop moving completely and laugh. How can I not? Bella hits me in the chest. "Stop making fun of me." But she's laughing too, so it's not that serious. The go on slow-sex is off; this is about fun. This is about reconnecting and showing adoration. We've always done that best with our bodies. She can watch Eric while I stroke, thrust, and pound, but she's getting it hard and fast. She'll remember who
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her man is, and it's not some pussy vampire. I'm all: "Take that!" and "Take this!" Bella closes her eyes real quick, and she's all: "Too hard, too hard, too hard." and. "Yeah, that's better." We're able to go two rounds before the kids wake up. . . . "What did you do while I was gone?" After Bella and I got out of bed this morning, she got into the shower and I got the kids up. The appointment with the psychiatrist was in the middle of the day, but she had other shit she had to get done before hand. I was supposed to hang out with the kids, but I got bored. So I called my sister and she agreed to baby-sit Rabbit. "I went to the movies," I say, giving Goochie the evil eye. I let him eat candy and popcorn, so his mom can't find out. She still loves him. That was mean. "With who?" Bella seems grumpy. She met the psychiatrist with little resistance, but defiance was oblivious. "Gooch." "You went to the movies with Gunner?" I look around and eat a mouthful of Skittles. "We're still at the movies." "Dude," Emmett whispers. "Don't tell her I'm here" I nod and wave him off. He's going to get us in trouble. I mean, I can come to the fucking movies if I want "I'll be home later, Bella." "Don't talk to me like that, Edward" Bella slams, what sounds to be a car door, and
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hangs up on me. My cheeks heat up; I give it three seconds and seventeen blinks before I call her back. "Why did you hang up on me?" "Because you're at the movies and I'm stuck here with your sister and Habit." "Don't sound too fucking happy, Bella." I hand Gunner a Red Vine. She sighs. "That's not what I meant." I was never supposed to go to the appointment with Bella, she wanted to do it by herself, but I should be home. "I know, baby. We just sat through Cars 2, and now we're watching Transformers. I'll be home as soon as this is over." She laughs, but it isn't honest. "Gunner sat through the movie?" Not really. "Emmett wanted to see Cars 2, not Goochie. Gunner slept in his car seat." "His car seat?" "Yeah, he doesn't fit in a chair by himself, and the boosters don't support his back, so I brought his car seat in and it worked out fine. He's strapped in and everything." I give Gunner a drink of Coke. "Harlie is here, too. She can sit in a booster seat, though." "Okay, I'll see you when I get home I love you." I'm reluctant to hang up, but the movie is about to start. "I love you too, baby." . . . On the way home Emmett and I stopped by Target and bought as much Transformers: Dark Side of the Moon memorabilia and action figures we could find. Gunner has a new bedroom set and Rabbit has a new doll to play with. I'm using the term "doll" lightly.
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Everything is good; Gunner has passed out from an over-consumption of sugar, Harlie is playing with her new Bumble Bee doll (that matches Rabbit's), and Emmett and I have been doing high fives since the movie ended. All of the chicks at the theater thought we were cute because we brought our kids to the movies. But that's not why we're so fucking happy. Transformers was awesome and we each had a day out of the house. Emmett is moving back in with Rosalie in a couple of weeks. They bought a house a few blocks away. They're starting over and shit, but I'm going to miss him around the house. It was nice spending some time with him without any of the normal drama we live with. Sometimes Emmett walks with me. "That doesn't sound good," Emmett says, pulling Harlie out of her car seat. From outside we can hear Bella and Alice arguing. I can't make out what they're saying, but the argument is heated. "Can you get Goochie for me?" I ask, lighting a cigarette. I need to smoke as much of it as I can before I walk into the house. "Yeah, bro, I got it." Emmett sets Harlie down on her wobbly feet before reaching in and entrapping Gunner. I take one last hit before stepping on my cigarette. "Do me a favor, Em. Don't bring the kids in until they shut the fuck up." "I have it covered." Emmett gives them more candy. I run my hand through my hair and open the front door. Alice is sitting on the couch with Habit and Bella is in the kitchen with a knife. I'm taken back for a moment, but when I see that she's cutting a bell pepper I relax. "What the fuck is going on in here? I can here you from the drive-way." I shut the door and make my way toward my wife. She's chopping the shit out of the pepper. I can see that she is upset, the tension in the room is thick, and from the tears in her eyes, it's obvious she's having a hard time. I put my hand on the knife handle and hold it until Bella drops the blade. I ask her if she's okay, wrapping my arms around her body, I hold her tight. She's stiff; her entire body is a mass of anxiety. Her hands shake and her chin quivers.
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But she making dinner. Progress. "Your sister is impossible," she says, wiping her nose with the back of her wrist. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" I'm trying to keep my voice down. I don't want to fight with Alice not today. I don't have the fucking energy for it anymore. Bella slides away, brushing the chopped bell peppers into the pasta sauce. "At that appointment today, the psychiatrist said I should take initiative and confide in another person about what I'm experiencing." She makes eye contact with me, but looks away before she begins to speak again. "He said keeping this a secret is a contributing factor, and that if I want to achieve a full recovery, I should look for support from those closest to me." Bella shrugs her shoulders and drops the cutting board into the sink. "I thought I would talk to your sister, but I should have known better." "Alice, what the fuck?" I turn around, shaking my head. "What do you want me to say, Edward?" Alice stands up with the baby in her arms. "She was looking for a friend; you didn't have to be such a bitch." "I'm a bitch because I don't agree with her?" "No, you're a bitch because you're a fucking bitch." I stick my hand in my pockets and reach for another cigarette before I realize I'm inside of the house. One day, all I wanted was one day. This day was huge for Bella, for our family, and Alice had to infect it with her negativity. I don't know what the hell is going on with my sister lately, but she is insufferable. I don't know how Jasper deals. Then again, she probably thinks the same thing about me. "That's not fair, Edward." Alice is noticeably hurt. I'm sure she's tired of me calling her a bitch every time I see her, but I'm tired of her treating Bella the way she does, so until something changes, this is the way it has to be. Surprisingly, Bella steps out of the kitchen and takes the baby from Alice. Without a word, she heads up stairs. The house is quiet, with the exception of the lit stove and the low volume on the TV. I don't have anything to say, so I call Emmett in with the kids. He takes them into the bedroom to watch TV, but I have a suspicion that he wants to play with his own Transformer.
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We both got one. My sister continues to stare at me like I have something between my teeth. I sit on the couch, turn the volume up, and kick back. I'm not interested in fighting. I have enough bullshit to process, and Alice is just another problem I can afford to ignore. Except she won't let me. With her arms crossed, and her eyebrows scrunched, Alice waits for me to give her some attention. "Edward, I'm not leaving until you talk to me." "Why? I have nothing to say." "I have problems too, you know? I'm your sister and you're always so mean to me." I laugh at her. Not to be intentionally hurtful, but she's ridiculous. "Al, you know me. I only react if I'm provoked, and I'm sorry, but you provoke the fuck out me." She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "So why don't you ever ask about me? You assume I'm a just being mean instead of asking me about what's going on." I turn the TV off and sit toward the edge of the couch. With my hands in my hair, I look down at the carpet between my feet. "We're not in high school anymore, so quit acting like we are. My wife is fucked up and I'm taking care of two babies. I have a lot on my plate, throw me a fucking bone." "I can't have kids. I can't have kids ever." I don't say anything. What is there to say? "I can't have a baby with Jasper. How do you think that makes me feel?" Alice sobs, but recovers quickly. "You have everything, and I have nothing. I blame you for some of it, you know?" "You can't blame me for that, Alice." "You and Bella have everything. You're married, you have two beautiful kids and this beautiful house how do you think you got all of this?" She takes a step toward me, kneeling down in front of where I sit. "You deserve none of it and I deserve all of it, but life isn't fair, right?" I hook my arm around her neck and pull her into my chest where she openly cries.
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"I've done everything right, but now I'm broken, and I'm supposed to marry Jazz? Should I sentence him to my miserable, lonely life because I love him so fucking much?" "Yes," I whisper, knowing everything about living miserable for love. I'm a fucking expert. "Bella can't even appreciate how good she has it. I would die to have that baby girl, and she doesn't want her? That's I can't even process the idea." I release my sister and fall back into the couch. "It isn't that easy, Alice." "I told her she was selfish." My sister stands, wiping her face. "I told her she was wrong for feeling the way she does." "That's not for you to say," I answer bitterly. "Yeah, well, I've been through enough of your bullshit to know that everything will be okay. In a few months, after she's recovered, your lives will move on. They always do. It's the rest of us that are left, still trying to pick up the pieces." "What pieces, Alice? What the fuck are you talking about?" I've tried to remain cool. I can't deal with thisI don't know what to do. I feel for her, she's my fucking sister, but Bella is my wife. She is my soul-partner, and I have her back no matter what. There is a line that cannot be crossed, but Alice is constantly crossing it. "I gave you my youth; I gave you my wedding day" "What am I supposed to do, Alice? I was a fucked up teenager, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay. That's all I have." "That's all you have?" "Yeah, that's all I fucking have. I'm not happy that this is happening to you, but it's taken me a long fucking time to learn that you can't change shit, you just deal as it's handed. I would suggest that you do that same." Alice's green eyes sparkle until they spill over. "I'll never forgive you." "You don't have to." "I still think Bella is wrong."
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"It doesn't matter what you think." "I want my brother back." "Then you have to stop being so unfair to Bella." . . . "What did they say, baby?" Bella heard the entire argument with Alice. She hasn't said much about it, except that she's sorry Alice is dealing with s much by herself. She isn't alone, I reminded her, she has Jasper. He's enough. Emmett kept Gunner and Harlie in his room tonight. They're having a sleep over. While a ten-month-old might not be that much fun to a normal guy, Emmett is a kid a heart, and he loves this type of shit. Habit was already changed, fed, and in bed by the time my sister left, giving Bella and I the rest of the night to ourselves. We're in the shower, letting the water run on us until it goes cold. Our fingers are pruned and the bathroom is humid with steam, but I wouldn't leave this spot if the house was on fire. That's not true, but, you know. "He prescribed me an anti-depressant and told me good-luck." Bella smiles while kissing the top of my hand. Her back is pressed against my chest, and my arms are circled around her shoulders. We're sitting on the shower floor, talking about our daytalking about nothing at all. We just are. "How did you feel after you left?" "It was nice to talk to somebody, but I still feel incapable. I'm ready to move on from this. I'm tried of feeling so hopeless." I kiss the top of her wet shoulder and nod my head. "Me too, baby."
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"I want to start working out." "Okay." Bella looks at me from over her shoulder. "Because I'm fat." "You're not fat, Smella." "Yes, I am. Look at my thighs, they jiggle." "Your thighs don't jiggle." "Ok, fine. They bounce." I sigh. "Fine, they bounce a little. I'll buy you a treadmill." "What?" Bella stands up to look down at me. I don't know what to say, so I say nothing. "Did you just call me fat?" "No! I was just agreeing with you. I like your jiggle I mean, your bounce. I like your bounce. It's sexy." "Fuck you, Edward." Bella turns the water on cold and gets out of the shower. But I laugh, you know why? Because this is normal. This is ordinary. This is progress. . . . AN: Don't flounce me now! I know that took a while for me to update, but I was in a weird place. Everything is okay now we can all move along. Only a few more and we're done. Thank-you to every single person who reviewed the last chapter. It is
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unbelievable how accepting and understanding you guys are. The ending to Crawl will be a happy one, and I hate to say that because I never give away plot points, but you all deserve to know that all will be well beginning in the next chapter. You don't want to miss it, that's for sure. In other news, I have a new blog address and thanks to MyRobAddiction, my blog is pretty and new. Soon it will be the home to all of my fics, so make sure you check it out. My RobAddiciton also made a blinkie for TLW. Its beautiful, and perfect, and I love it. TeamBella-23 (dot) blogspot (dot) com Thanks again, TB23

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Chapter 12
I do not own Twilight; I only make it badass. Characters belong to S. Meyer. Characteristics and history are mine. Crawl is fictional. Any semblance to real life is coincidence only. Only a few more chapters to go. Thank-you for sticking it out with me. Unfie is my beta and any mistakes are my own. Crawl Chapter 12 Bella There is nothing worse than running out of Windex. It's almost worse than running out of toilet paper or Q-tips. And in a house with two babies and a jobless husband, I need it. I feel like there are fingerprints all over the place. Gunner can stand-up on his own now. All he has to do is grab onto something. His little grubby finger-marks are all over the coffee table. They're on the entertainment center, too. Habit's bottles are left here and there; condensation and dripped milk leave bottle shaped circles of hard gunk wherever they're left. I can clean my entire house, but with out Windex, it still feels dirty. It isn't until you run out of the Windex that you notice how badly you need it. Not only because the kids are dirty little creatures, but because a dust storm must have come through my home while I was sleeping. The picture frames need cleaning. The outside of the microwave seems to be growing something. The mirrors in the bathrooms are disgusting and the windows are covered with a little bit of everything: fingerprints, dust-bunnies, gunk, bugs, and whatever else Windex cleans. "Edward, I need you to go to the store." I throw the empty Windex bottle into the recycling bin and look through the cabinets for some vinegar. "I'm not going to the store for Windex, baby."
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I knew he would say that. I shut the cabinets and walk into our laundry room. I think I remember putting the vinegar in there the last time I cleaned the washing machine. Vinegar is a lame substitute for Windex but it's a quick fix to a huge problem. Three parts water and one part vinegar and I have created a tree-huggers wet dream. It cleans just as well as the blue stuff. It's all-natural and "green," but it smells like cat piss. That's what Febreeze is for. My lazy fucking husband doesn't want to go to the store for me, so I hope he's prepared to smell vinegar on every shiny surface in this house for the next few days. I won't be able to relax if those finger-prints are left on the coffee table for another day. Blame it on anxiety. Blame it on hormones. I blame it on Edward. It's easier that way. After mixing the vinegar and water in a spray bottle, I grab the paper towels and head into the living room. Edward is sitting on the couch with his hand inside of his cut off sweats. Gunner is sitting beside him in a similar position. His Mohawk, that needs to be trimmed, is fallen to the side. He's drinking a sippy cup and playing with his toes. Habit is in her swing, sleeping. Which is nice. Anytime I'm in a room with her I feel like I have to show her attention. Since she's sleeping, I can continue to make the house smell like cat urine. Edward smiles at me. It's sweet. I try not to stand in front of him, but there is crap all over the table. I place the counterfeit Windex on the floor and put all of the remotes and magazines and old cups on the smaller side table. Then I spray my vinegar mixture all over the glass. It smells. "Smella, what the fuck is that?" Edward sits up, taking the bottle out of my hand. He unscrews the top and takes a whiff. "Baby, this is gross." I rip off a paper towel and wipe down the coffee table. "I'm sorry, but I ran out of Windex." Once the table is clean, I stand back and smile. It's a small, sweet victory. I have won this battle against fingerprints. Edward laughs really loud. He says," Baby, look, look, look."
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Gunner is pinching his nose closed. Apparently, he doesn't like the smell of my cleaner either. Now I'm laughing. And I'm laughing because my kid is so damn cute, but then I'm laughing because it feels so damn good. It feels like I haven't genuinely laughed in a long, long time. My lungs fill with air, my cheeks hurt, and my jaw is stiff. My eyes tear up because I just can't stop laughing. Edward pulls me on top of his lap. He kisses my neck and laughs lightly into my ear. I hold him, too, because that was the deal. He holds me, and I hold him, too. It's all about reconnecting and getting better. Gunner is still holding his nose because somewhere along the line he learned that it's a good thing to make his parents laugh. He does cute stuff like this all of the time now. He's almost one, and it hurts my heart that my little baby-boy is getting so big. He can say "Ma" and he says "Dada." He can't say Habit, but he says, Babit, and it's so fucking adorable that there have been a few different times I have caught myself calling her Babit the Rabit. It's been a few weeks since I've began to see a therapist; once a week on Wednesdays at four o'clock. I wish that I could say it's a waste of my time and it isn't doing anything for me, but that would be a lie. Natalie, my shrink, is very straightforward and honest. She's a realist, and I dig it. She has a tendency to use a lot of large words, but at the end of the day my condition is pretty simple: I'm screwed in the head. But that's something we've known for a long time, right? Oddly enough, I don't talk about Habit that much during our sessions. There is a lot of back-pedaling. I've spoken some about my mom and the death of my father, but what we have spent last two session discussing is Edward. I've always known that this bond between my husband and me is extraordinary, but when you breakdown the different stages of our relationship and dissect those parts, it's really fucking apparent that Edward and I are kind of messed up. Then again, I don't think a professional is required to enlighten me on that little fact. It's all pretty simple. My mom abandoned me when I was young. I had my dad, but he's a dad, and I needed a mother. Therefore, thanks to her, I suffer from abandonment issues. Insert Edward, and I'm officially insane. Edward came along with his own set of baggage and issues from his father. If you put two fragile kids together, they're going to bond. Not only did Edward and I bond, we fucking mended and became one. In our union, we turned our dysfunction against each other. We were always afraid of the other disappearing, and because of that, for the first few years of our
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friendship we kept our hearts out of harms way. Once Jake and Tanya died, we said fuck it and released all hell on one another. Co-dependence, abandonment, narcissism, and impulsive behavior; we are borderline sociopaths, really. Of course, Natalie doesn't agree. In fact, when I suggested that we were psychotic, she laughed at me. "It makes sense, though," I said. "We're impulsive and we lack empathy. Edward and I have no shame and we're completely manipulative. In the beginning, I'm sure we confused that for love." "But you're missing a huge factor, Bella." She leaned forward and smiled. "You share a capacity for each other that I have only ever imagined experiencing myself." It may have been unprofessional for her to say such a thing, but it was nice to hear. Edward and I have spent most of our relationship regretting our actions and wondering if what we were doing was right. We don't have a lot of redeeming qualities, and a lot of people don't understand us, but there is love. Pure love, and that part is simple. Our love has depth and meaning. What does this all mean? I'm not sure. I've been through a lot in my short life. And with Edward as my man, I'll go through more. The goal is to learn how to deal and file away all of this past hurt I've suffered. It isn't necessarily my fault that I can't love Habit, but I'm working on correcting it. Apparently, there are no real answers or cure for Post partum Depression. Although, the pills help, it's up to me to fix this mess. So I will. She's worth it. So are they. Edward and Gunner, they are worth it. Two weeks hasn't done shit for my state of mind. I still wake up every single morning and wish I could shut my eyes and never wake up. Depression is not only a mental battle, it's physical. My muscles ache and my joints hurt. I fight with myself everyday. I have to force myself to work. I have to push myself to do the stupidest shit like brush my teeth and wash my face. I would rather lie in bed in my own filth than put on a pair of jeans, but I do it. I take those fucking pills that make me groggy, and I make breakfast for a baby I'm not that into. I clean, I fold, I breathe, I blink, and I move because it's what I'm supposed to do. I have been through too much to let this conquer me. I've lived through the abandonment of my mother and the death of my father. I've endured
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being raised by my teenage brother, and I survived Edward. Edward. How precious is he? How awesome is he? I am so in love with him. I may very well be the worst wife in the history of wives, but he sticks right beside me through thick and thin, large and wide, psychotic episodes and mental breakdowns. I smell like baby puke and dirty hair most of the time, but never has he ever looked at me like I am less than beauty-great. I continue to be the center of his universe despite my ugly cry face, and messed up mind. He isn't always happy with me, but Edward will never stop loving me. And if that isn't worth fighting for, well, then, I don't know what is. Her. Habit remains to be a difficulty. While the pills keep me from scratching my own eyes out, they can't magically fix me. I've gotten to a point where I can hold her and be around her, but I still don't feel anything for Rabbit. Her well-being concerns me, but the emotional bond is almost nonexistent. I'm working on it, though. Natalie says it will come, and from my experience as a prenatal nurse, I know that this will not last forever. But days feel too long. Weeks feel like forever. And months are unacceptable. I don't resent her anymore. I know she didn't ruin my body and I know that she wasn't sent here to destroy my life. There is an imbalance inside of me that I can't control. Unfortunately, because of that, Habit is the one who suffers. I try to act normal in front of her. But sometimes I feel like she knows. When I hold her and she cries, I feel like she can sense my betrayal. Because that's what it is, isn't it. A betrayal. I feel like she doesn't want me. When I hold her, she wants Edward. She loves Edward more than she loves me. Habit loves her Daddy, and some of the time, I have to remind myself that it's because she's supposed to, not because she's trying to take him from me. That's fucking insane, right? She's a new born baby but somewhere along the line my mind became so freakin' twisted that I have become threatened by my newborn baby. "What's the matter, Bella?" Edward asks lowly as he touches me. His touch calms.
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He's the best kind of medicine. I love to be felt by him. When I don't feel good, and on those mornings when I can't get up, he'll lay with me for hours if I need him to. Edward will take off his shirt and be super close to me. He'll push his bare chest up against my bare back and squeeze me firm. He'll remain quiet but speak with his hand and his hold. Edward makes me better. He forces me to me to be. He does not condone, but he understands. He does not enable, but he aids. He gives me my space but smothers me breathless. He loves me hard but lets me down easy. And he's agreed to see the therapist with me once or twice. We all remember what the last therapy session went like, right? There was a lot of fighting, a lot of fucking, and a lot of file jizzing. That won't be happening again. He promises to be on his best behavior. Besides, Natalie isn't anything like Annie. I have a gut feeling that if Edward were to act like he did before, Natalie would be quick to put him in his place. She's tough. She's awesome, and she's all kinds of understanding. This will be good for us. I know it. I smile at Edward, reassuring him that I'm okay. I try not to think of my therapy sessions too much at home. I most definitely avoid dwelling on the fact that I'm medicated again. I don't like the way the depressions meds make me feel. Without them, I felt like I was trapped in a glass cage, but with them, I feel like I'm floating around in a bubble. Sometimes I can't feel my fingers or toes; they make me loopy and sleepy. I take a pill for the depression and I take another for anxiety. I take one at night because I can't sleep, and I take one during the day because I can't stay up. It's a never ending cycle of little white, pink and blue pills. You name it; there is a pill for it. It's seems counteractive if you ask me, but no one is. I'm just told to take them, so I do. It gives Edward peace of mind, and they do make me feel more like myself. It's just, I wouldn't be tired during the day if the sleep medication didn't make me so groggy. But I would be able to sleep at night if I wasn't falling a sleep during the day. The depression pills make me hungry. I bet if I asked my doctor for a diet pill he would give it to me. We live in the Prozac nation, after all.
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I'll take the pills for now, but one day, I strive to be pill free. It's amazing how easy it's been to disregard everything I learned in nursing school when it has come time to apply my learning's on myself. Ask me any question about PPD, and I can give you an answer. This used to be my job. I used to deal with this sickness on a daily basis. I know the procedure and I know protocol, but the rules do not apply when it's personal. It's as if I have forgotten everything I learned. Nurse-Bella and Sick-Bella are separated, and they're not on speaking terms. Edward understands. In a lot of the way, Doctor-Edward and Husband-to-sick-Bella, deal with the same separation issue. Edward knows how to handle me, but it's so personal, he can't bring himself to do it. That's why he got Tyler involved. That's why Natalie is involved. Everyone knows about me now. Esme was apologetic, and the rest of them are sympathetic. The only one who cannot bring herself to understand why I am the way I am is Alice. I forgive her, though, and I feel sorry for Edward's sister. Not only because she can't have children of her own, but because she is such a unhappy person. But who the fuck am I to talk, really? I've been miserable for the better part of a year, and I can't hold it against Alice if I'm guilty as charged. I'm making moves and working toward bettering my life, but it took me a long time. Alice will get there eventually. I don't know how long I've been on Edward's lap. Thanks to the mind-numbing side effects of these pills, I zone-out often. I shake my head, and stretch my legs. Gunner has fallen to his side and is asleep with his thumb in his mouth. Edward is watching TV, totally content with my fat-ass invading his body space. "I thought you were sleeping," he whispers, kissing my shoulder. I curl myself into a ball, hiding in his arms. "I must have been daydreaming." Edward's smile is sad and all knowing. He brushes a stray piece of hair away from my face and adjusts our bodies so that we are lying parallel on the couch. The couch is large enough to hold us with Gunner at our feet. I snuggle my way in, and then I snuggle a little more. I push my body against Edward's until we are airtight and locked. Our legs tangle and our skin rubs. He circles his arms around my upper-body and ties a knot in the back with his hands. He kisses my forehead and I breathe in his chest. Maybe I can get a little closer.
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Out stomachs are flush and I can feel his manhood on my pelvis. If I try to get in any closer, he might slip between the cushions and the back of the couch. But he smells so good and feels so safe. The house is quiet, filled with sleeping babies and the low hum of the heater. It's raining outside, making for a perfect lazy day. I fall asleep, but I don't know for how long. I'm woken up. Edward is carrying me up the stairs. It's funny because he's quietly struggling. I'm not that light, despite what he says. We're in our bedroom. He's putting me in bed. Edward slips off my black leggings. He kisses the top of my feet before reaching up and taking off my shirt. "The kids are still sleeping," he whispers. "I put Goochie in his bed." He takes off his socks. He is glorious and wonderful and I love him until my heart hurts. "Maybe they'll sleep all fucking day." Edward pulls his shorts down to his knees. Then they slip all of the way down on their own. "Because I need you today. All day." Edward is pumping his length; his eyes are fire-lit. I open my legs. "Be in me because I need you near," I say quietly. "I feel sad, but with you I'm okay." Edward slips between my soft thighs. He kisses along my breasts and pushes my leg back by my knee. "You make everything better." His smile is still sad. I break his heart. He hurts because he can't fix me on his own. "I'm sorry I've let you down." Edward stops still. He is motionless but tense. "What the fuck did you just say?" We're face to face. His hand is beneath my jaw. He's holding my face in one of his hands. He's squeezing tight. I don't know what to say, and he doesn't wait for an answer. "You could never do anything to let me down, baby." His tone is softer. "I love you the way you are. And you're fucking perfect to me. So don't you ever apologize to me again." I nod. He kisses me. "I'm so fucking proud of you," he says, lowering between my legs. My chest heaves up and down. My fingers grip into our bed sheets. He low, low, lowers, until he is there right there. He blows cold hair over my hot, hot center. My back arches and my lip bleeds between my teeth. When I feel his tongue, I whimper. "Stay quiet so we don't wake up the babies," Edward whispers before I feel his tongue again.
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I put my foot on his shoulders and I try not to push him away. He's so overwhelming and he's entirely sexy. He kisses my Scarlet deeply and thoroughly. I feel his lips, his mouth, and his chin. His chin rubs and his thumb circles while his other hand opens me widely. He doesn't look at me. Edward's eyes are closed and he's utterly lost in my heat. He makes these sounds that almost feel better than his mouth. I try to watch him, but I can't keep my head up. My eyes roll and my body jumps. I wrap my leg around his head and beg for more. I feel like I've risen from the dead. Everything feels alive: my hair, my skin, my nails, down to my bones. I'm not quiet, because I can't be. Edward holds my hips down and he smile and chuckles against my center. "Does that feel good, baby?" he asks before he's face-deep in-between my legs. I'm pulling his hair. I need him more than this. I love his mouth on me, but I need more. "Edward please," I beg. "Please." He wipes his mouth off on the inside of my thigh. He's smiling such a powerful smile. It's such a smug smile. A hopeful, everything-is-going-to-be-okay, smile. Preston is up and he says hello. Edward kisses on the right side of my breast. He's taking his time, positioning himself between me. I'm pulling on his shoulders and kissing his neck. My stomach feels tight and twisted. My fingers are tingly and my face feels warm. Finally, I feel him slide along my folds. He moves his hip, searching for my entrance. "Here, I'll help," I say breathless, reaching down below to help his aim. That's when I feel it. Then I look and see it: The return of the Hairy Man Salsa. I gasp. "Oh my God!" And for the second time in one day, I laugh until I cry. Between giggles, Edward slides easily inside of me. It's as if my laughter is erotic enough and our bodies are only going through the movements. We're so together. We're so happy. This moment is so rare. His hips move in easy circles. We're laughing, kissing, and touching. "I love you, baby," Edward says, circling his hips a little deeper.
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I shake my head and cover my face with my hands. "I love you, too." His lips are near my ear. "Stop laughing at me," he says lightly and carefree. "I can't help it. I haven't seen your balls that hairy since our shaving party." Right when we're starting to get into it, Habit wakes up. Edward's head hangs between us. He kisses my throat and moves like he is going to get up. "No. Please don't go." Edward doesn't stop, and eventually, he slips out. He doesn't leave, though. He turns off the baby monitor. "She can cry for a little while." He's inside of me again, and this time, we don't laugh. We love. . . . Wednesday four o'clock "You must be Edward." Natalie welcomes us into our office, and if I'm being complexly fucking honest, I'm nervous. Just because he said he would behave himself, that doesn't mean that he will. Edward is unpredictable. "Nice to meet you." Edward shakes her hand, standing in front of me while he grips tightly onto mine. Natalie walks in front of us toward her desk. She's young, and I can't imagine her being much older than I am. We have a lot in common. Maybe that's why her and I get along so well. Edward isn't as trusting as I am, though. He is trying on my behalf, but I can tell her is ready to split. "I'm happy you were able to attend one of Bella's sessions, Mr. Cullen." Edward clears his throat and allows me to walk a head of him toward our chairs. "Please, just call me Edward." He kisses my cheek and sits beside me.
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Our bad habits are on full display: Edward has moved his chair right next to mine, I'm holding his hand, and we're leaned into each other so closely that I can feel his breath tangling with my own. I can sense Natalie inspecting us. She's studying and diagnosing. Co-reliant: check. "Okay, Edward. Why don't you start off by telling me how you feel about Bella coming to see me." He laughs under his breath. Edward looks up at me from under his long lashes and smirks. "I want her back, and if you're needed, it's fine with me, I guess." Natalie has flawless blonde hair and her black framed glasses are perfectly clean. It reminds me that we need to stop by Target on the way home and pick up some Windex. Without a crack in her self-confidence, Natalie stares Edward in the eyes and says, "I am well aware of Bella's struggle with Post Partum, and I assure you, it'll be discussed, but my largest concern has more to do with your marriage and the relationship you shared beforehand." Edward looks at me and shifts in his seat. He pats his pockets looking for his cigarettes even though he is well aware there is no smoking in this office. "My intentions are not to make you feel uncomfortable, Edward. My goal is to simply help. We can go as slow or as fast as you wish." "That's what she said," Edward mumbles. Natalie snorts. I face palm. "Excuse me?" Natalie tries not to laugh. Edward kisses the top of my hand. He sits up straight and smiles. "You said that we can go as fast or as slow as I wish, and I said, that's what she said." Everything is really easy after that point. Edward speaks a little about the times when we lived in Seattle. Natalie isn't a miracle worker, though. Edward keeps the conversation safe. He doesn't dig too deeply and only makes himself look like the wrong doer. I don't correct him. The fact that he is speaking at all is a godsend.
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Who the fuck are we kidding anyway? This isn't going to change who we are. At the core of our existence, Edward and I are messed up. But that's what makes us so special. Not everyone owns the ability to love as hard and Edward and I do. I'm still convinced that we're psychopaths but a little shrink therapy never killed anyone. And I like Natalie; I think Tyler would like her, too. I know I'm daydreaming again. The tone and vibration of Edward's steady voice is slowly putting me under. I lean my head on his shoulder and nod whenever I hear my name being called. It seems to be good enough because they never ask twice for my attention. I listen to him speak, and he is so, so right. "Bella is the best thing that ever happened to me." He laughs. "We've probably fucked up a lot of lives trying to be together who knows, we probably killed Jake and Tanya. We treated them like shit before they died, and as much as that hurts me, for her, I wouldn't change anything." Lack of empathy: check. "Before the kids, we didn't give a fuck about anything or anyone but each other. She drove me fucking nutty." He sits up and runs his hands through his hair. "There were times when I wanted to kill her. I literally wanted to strangle her. But I had never connected with anyone like I did with Bella, and it wasn't something I was willing to let go of. A lot of people girls, or whatever, they always tried to be close to me, but I never let them." Narcissism: check. "But, Bella, she has always been different. I mean, I almost killed myself because I couldn't handle being away from her. And now, right now, that sounds fucking crazy, but then that night, it made all the fucking sense in the world. When we were in college, I tried to tell myself that everything about "us" was wrong, but at the end of the day, it didn't matter. I was stuck in love." Lack of self-preservation: check. "She took my heart. I think she took my soul. But I bleed her dry, so it's okay, because I want her to have every part of me. It's like it's like, giving her my heart and soul isn't enough. And we move on and we progress, but there is always this part of us that remains the same. It is this damaging and consuming fraction of us that will never go away." Edward looks at me and smiles in amazement. "Her love is
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so fucking constricting, but it's pleasantly tight. So, I'm okay that she comes to see you as long as her choking love doesn't loosen. Because I don't know what I would do if it ever did I would probably die without it. I wouldn't exist if her hands weren't gripped around my throat." Bottomless capacity to love corrosively: check. . . . "Don't forget the Windex." Edward drops his arm over my shoulder and guides me through the parking lot. "It's why we're here, Smella." I roll my eyes. "Bullshit. You can never make it through Target without making a pit-stop in the toy section." Edward blows smoke out into the cold evening air. "My baby-boy needs a new action figure, baby." We're feeling light; Edward and I both know that nothing is going to change because he sat and spoke to my shirk for an hour. We are who we are, but it always feels nice to talk to Natalie and I'm glad Edward was able to experience it's liberation. And who knows, maybe something will change over time. I'm not looking for a cure-all. I'm merely looking for relief, and right now, it kind of feels like it's working. Even if my hands are around his esophagus. Did you really ever think I would let him go so he could breathe? A half hour later, we bypassed the toy section and went straight toward the area with the treadmills. My hips are screaming: buy, buy, buy. But Edward is giving me a hard time. He'll buy it; I know he will. "This is the one you want?" I cross my arms over my chest and tap my foot. "Yeah."
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"You won't even use it." He stands on the belt and presses all of the buttons. "Edward." "Bella," he mocks. "I want it." "Say please." "Please." "You know, baby. I'm not working and we're in a recession. I mean, our countries fucking credit rating just went down. You can just go on walks with me; it's the same fucking thing." "You have more money than anyone I know." Just because the country can't pay its bills doesn't mean that we can't because Edward is without work. He still gets money from his dad every month. He receives allowance for being a good, good son. Prozac Nation, remember? The world would rather lose everything than give up its pills. Carlisle invested wisely. "We have more money than anyone you know, baby. We." "Good. Buy me the treadmill." "Fine." . . When we get home, Tyler is sitting on the floor sharing a bowl of ice cream with Gunner. Habit is back in her swing, sleeping away. I touch her face because she smells like baby lotion and a warm bath. Tyler is the best uncle-slash-babysitter, ever. He even helps Edward build my treadmill. If I want to lose my hips, I need to start
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tonight. While they are doing that, I feed gunner and carry Habit up to her bed. I feel like I didn't see her at all today, which his odd, I usually never notice the difference. When I'm in her room, before I lie her in bed, I turn on her nightlight and rock her in her chair. I stare at her little face, trying with everything I have to feel something. She is so small and so, so pretty. Gunner looks a lot like me, but Rabbit, she is her father re-created. How lucky she is because of that. Her daddy is the most gorgeous person around, beside Gunner. She looks a little like him, too, though. After I lay her down, I close her door in a whisper and trot down the stairs. Emmett moved out and after we left, we gutted his room. I have plans to turn it into my gym. Edward wants it to be some kind of emo-music room. But what I say goes. It's a perk of being the wifey to such a magnificent man. I tiptoe into my new gym, expecting to see Edward and Tyler assembling my new gym equipment. I didn't only get the treadmill; I got the stair-master, too. Instead, I walk in on the two of them in the middle of some deep-secret conversation. When they see me, they automatically change the subject and pick up a screwdriver. "What were you guys talking about?" "Nothing," they say together. "Liars." "Nothing, Bella. Shut-up." Tyler throws a piece of Styrofoam at me. "Guilty conscious," I whisper, sitting next to Edward on the floor. "Almost done?" He kisses my forehead, but his warm cheeks do not go un-noticed. He was talking about something and he doesn't want me to know what it is. "Tell me," I say. Edward runs his hand through his hair. "It's nothing, baby." "Tell me." "You're so annoying. I'm glad I don't have to look at your vagina anymore."
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Edward backhands Tyler in the chest. "Because my vagina is annoying?" I laugh out loud for the third time today. "Tell me," I say once I stop. "Tyler and I were just going over our options." Edward stands up, smiling at his creation: my treadmill. "Options about what?" "The future," he offers, picking me up off the floor. "Because I'm the richest guy you know, and I should be doing something big with my resources, something important." He gives me a certain look; a look that says, I got this. So, I chose to trust him, and I don't ask for more details. Instead, I jump on my treadmill and turn it on. It's so shiny and new. I keep the speed on low because after a few minutes (seconds), I feel the burn. "I love it!" I clap, giving Tyler and Edward a high-five. "Thank you guys so much for this." Then they ruin everything by touching my shiny screen and pushing buttons that force me to run way too fast. I'm screaming and begging for help. I realize that if I pull the red cord it will stop. When it stops, I fume. "You assholes! There are finger-prints all over my treadmill." I try to wipe them away, but I only make it worse. "Edward, will you get me the Windex and the paper towels, please?" He only looks at me. Tyler leaves the room. "What?" I ask, stepping off the machine. "There was an accident in the drive-way." I hear the front door shut. "Tyler dropped the Windex and the bottle cracked open." "What!" "Your Windex didn't survive."
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For the fourth time in one day, I laugh until I cry. We still don't have any fucking Windex. . . . AN: Thank-you so much for sticking this one out with me. It's been a struggle, but I am finally ready to let this go. I know exactly how I'm going to end this, and trust me, you do not want to miss it. I'm ready to say good-bye, are you? Special thank you to MyRobAddiction (Natalie) for everything she has done for me lately. You never let me down and your friendship is so honest. If you're a fan of YellowGlue, you might be happy to hear that her and I will be writing a fic together. Look out of the penname: YellowBella because that's her and I. What we have planned is fucking insane. A huge THANK YOU to my beta and friend, Unfie. If you're a slash lover, she's written some stuff. Make sure you check her out. Her story can be found under my favorites. I recently wrote a OS for Fandom Against Sexual Assault. It's posted on my profile: Where Nobody Knows. Please go read it and let me know what you think. Two more and we're done. Thanks again, TB23

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Chapter 13
I do not own Twilight; I only steal it's character's and make them fucking insane. This Is It. Thanks to every single person who read, dealt with, and loved Closer, California Waiting, and Crawl. It's kind of the end on an era, right? Closerward for vida! Dusty is set to post early December. Written by YellowGlue and myself, the profile can be found on my TeamBella front-page, and the character pictures are on my blog. Unfie, thank you. Jaime, thank you. Everyone before them, thank you. Crawl Chapter 13 A hand full of months later Bella "What do you think?" "What do I think about what?" "About Habit. About your life and how far you've come. You've been seeing me for a while, how do you feel?" I look at Natalie and scoff. It's impossible to look her in the eye. How can she act
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like we're not friends. How can she pretend that she's not fucking my husband's best friend. Introducing Natalie to Tyler was a mistake. I said so to Edward, but he thought they would be a good couple. He was right. I should have fired her a long time ago but she helps. "Your boyfriend has seen my hooha more than once, how can you be so-" I have my hand around "-professional?" Natalie laughs, setting her notebook down on the desk. She always does this: acts all therapist-like when I first get here, and by the time our session is over, she's the one pouring her little heart out about how wonderfully stupid her guy is: "I can never take him seriously," and "He likes to do it doggy-style, a lot, and I'm not trying to over analyze him but-" "We're friends, right?" she asks, scooting her chair a little closer to my couch. I pick the violet nail polish off of my thumb and nod. "So, we can cut the shit, right?" Nat is leaning in; her elbows rest on her thighs and her chin rest on her closed fists. "I though we already did." Memories of late night "therapy sessions" turned "drunk-girl confession." I have heard more about Tyler's dick than I would prefer, and I'm sure she's sick and tired of hearing about Edward and how he likes to fuck in public places. Remember Sears? Yeah, it's gotten worse. Last week we took the kids to Disneyland and I had to finally put my foot down. There is nothing remotely sexy about Dumbo or Peter Pan. He tried to grab my boob on the Snow White ride and begged me to give him a blow job on Space Mountain. By the time we made it to It's A Small World, I threatened to cut his schlong off if smacked my ass or stuck his hand into my underwear one more time. And come on, no one really thinks grandma-panties are sexy. I'm a mom, and I'm a little bit fat - skinny-fat, and I can live with that. What I can't live with is Edward trying to convince me otherwise. I know he's stressed out about the clinic, and we have a lot riding on this joint venture with Tyler, but that doesn't
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mean I'm going to sex him up at Disneyland because he tells me he likes my pastel green briefs. I'm just not. There are kids around our kids. His niece. My brother and Rosalie. Tyler and Natalie. The entire time he was pushing my head toward his crotch Natalie was giving me the "We're going to talk about this later" look. Shrinks do not always make good best friends. But Edward hasn't changed much. He's Edward. He deals with his stress differently than the rest of us, and I can't fault him that. All I can do is threaten his balls and massage them when we get home. Home. "You should have fired me a long time ago," Natalie laughs. She's right. Didn't I just say that? There was this one time, after she and Tyler started dating, the four of us went skinny dipping in our Jacuzzi. We were so drunk I should have fired her after that. "But since you didn't, and I think you've broken some major ground, I'm going to keep it real." She touches my arm and smiles; her smiles are convincing as fuck. "It's time to cut the shit." I laugh out. "Excuse me?" "With Habit. you're doing well, and I know you said that something is missing, but-" she stops, biting her bottom lip. "You're religious about your pills, you see me twice a week, and you and Edward are doing as good as can be expected. Your children are growing, and, well, I think it's time for you to grow the fuck up and move on." I smile. Shrinks make the best, best friends. "That simple, huh?" Natalie sits back and crosses her legs. Her newly dyed dark hair falls into her eyes over her sleek black-rimmed glasses. "Yeah, it really is. You have a gorgeous
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husband who loves the shit out of you. Gunner is freakin' adorable, and your daughter is just waiting to be loved." Guilt. I harbor so much guilt for Rabbit. No matter what, it's missing. "We've been through so much," I whisper, thinking about Edward. Orange back packs and apples. Seattle. Love-confused fights. Anger. Baby, baby, baby. Smella and Fuckward. Street bikes and bar fights. Moving. Volvo's and G-Wagon's. Jake and Tanya. Funerals. Las Vegas. Hallways. "Why Can't I feel anything but you?" Love and lost babies. Breaks ups. Fuck ups. A ruined wedding and a pissed off sister. Gun shots and hospitals. Thrown suitcases and make-up love. Washer-side proposals and Nate's beer. Licorice. Coleslaw. "I'm pregnant," and "I already know." "What the fuck is a Goochie," and "It's a boy." Surprise. "It's a girl." Habit. Now. Here. The clinic. His Clinic. Their clinic. Our Clinic. Giving back. Helping. Being thankful we're still alive after all of that. Hoping I can love her one day. It's amazing how quickly I can sum up my extraordinary life. "You're right," I say to Natalie. "Of course I am." She stands up, offering me a hand. After Natalie and I say our goodbyes, making dinner plans, I fire her. It's been a long time coming. On the way down to my truck, I feel lighter. I always do after I've been with Nat, but today is different. Today I'm not drunk, for one, and for two, I feel like I can actually change something. Edward told me about the idea of low cost private medical clinic a last year. After a lifetime of taking advantage of people, he thought it was time to repent, and what better way to do it than to help the less fortunate. Money wasn't an issue, our bank account remains to be a bottomless pit thanks to Carlisle, and after Edward was able to snag a few investors, ground was broken in Boyle Heights. Because of Gabe and Ester, Edward knew right way East Los Angeles is where he wanted his place to be.
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It's not complete yet, but they're almost ready to open. And we're all helping it's a family thing. See, the reason I fired Natalie is because she was going to quit on me anyway. She'll lead the Psychiatric/ Behavior Health side of things. Tyler will run Pediatrics and Obstetrician and Gynecology. Edward will take care of General Health, and I'll be his good little nurse. We have a shit ton of other employees, but the four of us are the heart of the operation. I'm nervous. I haven't treated a patient in years. This will be good for me. It's been good for the community. Edward and I have always helped out Gabe ad Ester with medical care. Now that we're making it official, they haven't had a problem helping us out in return. Gabe and his "friends" paint and drill and hammer. Everything would probably get done a lot faster if we just hired licensed professionals to do it, but then it wouldn't be as meaningful. The home-boys do just as well. Edward and Tyler have been involved in every decision and detail going into the clinic. Carlisle, one of our biggest supporters and investors, tried to run shit his way. Edward, who wasn't having it, asked his dad to very kindly "fuck off." The place is nice, and it's coming along. After unlocking my Escalade, I jump in and call Edward. "Hey, baby," he answers, sounding less than thrilled. "Where are you?" "Leaving Natalie's." I flip on my blinker and mess with the air conditioner. "Good. Can you come get these fucking kids. I can't do shit around here with them running around-" he groans." "Dammit, Gunner, stop touching." He takes a deep breath. "Baby, please come pick up your kids." "I'll be there in thirty." I hang up the phone, trying to make my way through traffic and onto the freeway. I don't know what it is about L.A. but the people here can't drive for shit. Everyone is too busy looking fucking cool to pay attention to the road. I lay on the horn and call everyone motherfuckers for twenty minutes, and when I'm almost to the clinic, I get a phone call. "You know, Edward, if it wasn't for this fucking project of yours we'd move. I cannot stand the drivers-" I slam on my breaks and scream "motherbitch!" to the lady in the Beamer.
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"Bella, listen to me, baby." He's too calm and collected. Edward's tone grips my attention right away. "What's the matter?" I ask, already knowing something is wrong. He sighs. "Gunner was fucking with the ladder and Habit was under it. The ladder fell on top of her. She's okay, but her arm might be broken. We're at the Hospital." "Edward." I don't know what else to say. My heart is racing and all of my good feelings from earlier are gone. I only feel terror now. "Are you close? Where are you?" he asks, reaching through the phone to me. "Go to the building, baby. I can come get you." "No." I shake my head, turning my truck around. "I'm on my way." "Are you okay?" He worries about me too much. "Tyler and my sister are here, baby, I can come get you." "No, stay there with her." I don't honk and cuss as I drive anymore. My car drives itself. I'm on autopilot and the only two things I can hear is my own heart beating and the sound of Edward's voice keeping me calm. When did I become so breakable? I used to be so strong. "Is she okay?" I'm weaving in and out of traffic with grace and ease. "She's fine. Doped up, but she's being funny now, laughing." Then: "She wants her mommy." I cry all the way to the hospital. . . . When I get there everyone is waiting out in the hallway. They don't see me. My dirty green chucks don't make a sound on the tile hospital floor. My purse keeps falling down my arm, annoying the hell out of me. My hair is up in a messy ponytail
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and I'm pretty sure I have ugly-cry face. My hands have been numb since the freeway and my skin is covered with goosebumps. I've never had to deal with a hurt child not one of my own. It's the most frightening thing I've ever experienced. Tyler is the first one to see I'm here. He smiles, nodding his head toward me so Edward is aware. Goochie is at Edward's legs, punching his shins. Hubby stands there with his arms crossed over his chest like he doesn't feel a thing. He's such a good dad. Edward is dressed in a pair of dark denim jeans with dots of paint. His combat boots are unlaced, also covered in paint. His fingers are covered his shirt and his forearm. There is paint in his hair and a little on his cheek. He picks up the kid, who turned one-year-old months ago, and hands him to Tyler. Gunner screams. Out kid is a spoiled brat. I can own that. Edward meets me half-way. He hugs me, kisses my face, my neck, my jaw. He sighs, happy we're together again. Holding me close, closest, closer. "She's fine," he says into my ear, keeping a hold of me. He squeezes me tight, keeping me together. He. Me. Together. Closer. "Can I see her?" I grip onto his paint-dripped shirt, looking over his shoulder. Edward kisses my forehead, placing his finger under my jaw, forcing me to look at him. "Are you good?" Our bodies are flush. There is no him or me, just us. Like always. "Yeah, I'm fine." He takes my hand, lacing our fingers and walks me toward her room. Alice and Jasper are here. Emmett, Rose, and Harlie. Tyler tries to deal with Gunner by giving him chocolate and soda. They all treat me like I'm a bubble. Alice and I are not exactly on speaking terms, but we deal. Jasper smiles, waving a small wave.
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Rose is holding Harlie on her hip. She smiles as I pass. I'm half-way hiding behind Edward's arm. His hand is on my lower back, guiding me inside the too-white room. On the table, with a broken arm and hair like her dad, is my baby girl with the saddest face I've ever seen. Natalie must have beat me here because she's sitting an the end of the bed, reading my daughter an article out of W Magazine, trying to keep baby busy. She leaves as soon as I walk in, squeezing my arm as she goes. Edward waits at the door. Habit's lip quivers as soon as she see's me. A tears rolls down her green eyes, leaving me totally unworthy. Then: "Mama." It all comes to me after that one little word from my too-sad little girl with hair like her father's and a broken arm. Every single ounce of whatever I was missing slams into my heart with so much force it doesn't beat for an hour. I lie beside her, playing with her hair, crying myself swollen and wet. Edward watches from the door, but no one bothers us. When Habit finally falls asleep, I get as close as I can without waking her up, kissing her face over and over while I apologize for everything I have done and not felt. She breathes easy and sighs happy little baby sighs. The doctor comes in and casts his arm while she dreams. Pink. I chose it. I'm also the first one to sign it when it dries: Mommy. We all sign it, and when she wakes up, she claps. It's dark by the time we leave the hospital. Gunner has finally crashed out; sugar high a la Uncle Tyler.
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"Thank you so much," I whisper into Tyler's ear as we say goodnight. It's for everything. He's helped too much, so much. He kisses my forehead and hands Goochie over to Edward. He drives the kids home in the Ranger Rover, but not after begging me to drive with him too. I need a moment, so we drive separately. I cry all the way there. . . . We put the kids to bed and let the dogs in. I open up all of the windows and open a couple of beers. Edward and I lounge on the couch. The dogs slobber all over everything. "No, Sid. Fuck!" Edward yells, taking Habit's baby-dolly out of his mouth. Sid feels bad. I can tell. Poor puppy dog. "Come sit with me." I pat the spot on the couch between my legs. I'm drunk. I've had a few. "Tell me some secrets." My cheeks are red and warm. My lips want to be kissed and my skin wants to be touched. Edward sits back, wrapping my legs around the front of his waist. His head leans against my chest. I kiss his cheeks and give him some of my beer. "I never imagined it feeling that bad," he says, running the palm of his hand up and down my legs. "That was the scariest moment of my life and it was only a broken arm." I just nod. "She's only a baby." "She's strong like her daddy." Edward laughs, rolling over. He's above me, over me, almost inside of me. "You're feeling better, I can tell. Your eyes look different. Not as dark."
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I try to set my beer on the table but it spills onto the floor. We leave it there. His face is in my neck. His teeth are on my skin. My legs are wrapped tightly around. My chest heaves up and down. He's hot. Scorching. I reach between us and unbutton his pants. He sits up and takes off my shirt. He kisses my chest, my cleavage. I make a sound that sounds like: uuuuggghhh. I scratch my nails down his biceps. His skin turns white under my fingers. My center, it burns, scorches like his skin. "Be with me," I whisper-moan. "Not here, baby. Come on." Edward is up. He gives me hand, leading me toward the stairs. He doesn't bother to re-button his pants or fix his hair. Instead he drapes his arm over my shoulders and kisses the top of my head. My cheeks remain flushed from the kissing and touching we were just doing on the couch. My lip tingle and my chest is irritated from stubbly cheeks. It's the best feeling in the world. Slowly, but surely I'm beginning to feel everything again. It's a sensory overload completely beating whatever it is that's wrong in my head isn't an option. I've learned and dealt with that, but I've arrived to a place in my life where I can adjust and make wise decisions. Wise. Right? Did you ever think it would happen? As I walk up the stairs with my husband. My dependent, illogical, sporadic, and a lot of the times rude, husband, I think to myself: everything is going to be okay. Maybe not typical, but okay.
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. . . Edward Whatever went on between Rabbit and Bella at the hospital wasn't some fucking cure-all. In the hallway, everyone was whispering, speculating, concluding. "So she's better or what?" my sister asked, looking in on my girls beside me. "Probably not." And it's the fucking unfortunate true. A switch doesn't just flip on in this kind of situation. It takes time - it takes forever. And I've got that. But something definitely shifted. Since beginning therapy with Natalie a while ago, Bella does shit to make her relationship with Habit easier. She takes her to these Mommy and Me yoga classes. She makes the attempt to get up in the mornings with her. Bella brushes her hair and changes her diaper and gives her a bath. It all kind of doesn't matter, though. The bond isn't there. It's just a women and a little baby girl going through day-to-day routines. Bella never whispers sweet little things into Habit's ear or buy her special dresses, or do whatever the fuck it is a mom is supposed to do for her only girl. She cares for her but she doesn't care for her. What happened between them today is brand-new, and it's hopeful as fuck. Bella carried Habit out of the hospital, tightly close to her chest, to the car and into her car seat. She strapped her in, careful for her arm, and kissed her forehead before shutting the door. For a moment the cold, distant look was back in her eyes, but it passed. She didn't touch Habit again after that.
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When we got home Bella took care of Gunny and I changed Habit and put her to bed like I usually do. Shit is the same, but shit isn't the same. There is a different energy about her. On the couch, she got drunk. She's drunk now, red cheeked and red chested. It's been so long since she whispered in my ear or scratched my arms. We're walking up the stairs. Bella trips. Almost falls. She laughs out loud. Louder than she has since before Habit was born. I fall on the stairs beside her, checking her knee. "It's my toe." She laughs. "I think I broke it." She didn't She's drunk. Her breath smells like beer. "Wiggle your fucking toes, Smella." I pretend to be concerned, but I just wasn't to see her toes wiggle. They wiggle fine. "No!" She says too loudly, covering her mouth. "No," she whispers. "The big one isn't wiggling right." She wiggles the good foot. They wiggle the same as the stubbed foot. I drop her feet and say, "You're right. I should check this out. I need to get you to bed first. Then naked then wet," I whisper into her ear. She stops laughing. Then: "Wet in the shower, or wet, like, down there wet?" I laugh until I cry. Like a pussy.
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. . . In the room, she walks ahead of me. I stay back, watching as Bella unhooks her bra with one hand, walking seductively on her tippy-toes toward our unmade bed. She throws her bra over her shoulder, winking before it lands at me feet. It's red. It's gotta be the alcohol because my lady is acting so un-bella-like. It's been a few since she's been this outgoing. She's always sexy to me, but this this is something else. She stands by the bed, meeting my eyes with her drunk ones. Her chest is bare, and she looks good; the treadmill has been good for her. Her thumbs disappear into the waste band of her jean shorts. They slip down her legs, pooling at her feet. She tries to kick them at me but they fly behind her. It's weird and fucking hilarious. She doubles over laughing in her silky pink panties. I go to her and we laugh while we kiss. Beer scented laughter is the fucking best. My pants are already unbuckled. She bends down, taking my jeans with her until she gets stuck at my calves. "Help, help, help," she giggles, holding my jeans as I pull my foot out. She takes off my left sock. Then my right. I'm in a shirt and boxer briefs, and she's mostly naked. We try to get my shirt off but it gets stuck on my forehead. "When did your head get to large?" She's laughing some more, doing the potty dance. "I gotta pee!" Bella runs to the bathroom, slamming the door. "Ooops!"
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I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I feel like a pussy virgin about to get his pecker touched for the first time. I dick was touched a long time ago, trust me. I sit in bed, but it feels fucking weird so I get back up. I try lying down, but that's worse. Bella is all giggles in the bathroom, trying to open the door. She's stuck. She's asking for help. I go to her, but before I get there the door opens and she comes running out. She jumps at me. I kinda catch her but we both fall back onto the bed. She has my old Kings of Leon band-tee on. The one we got from Vegas way back then. "I would have felt stupid running to you with no shirt on." she blushes, hard. "Why? It would have been sexy as fuck." I pull the shirt over her head. The panties are gone. I press my hand against her center. I push, push, push I don't rub or circle or go inside, I just push. Bella's back arches off of the bed. Her eyes close and her nipples harden. Her knees part and her hips push down. I kiss the top of her shoulder, down her arm, to the inside of her elbow I open mouth kiss her rib bones, her naval, her pelvic bone. Her legs open wider. I kiss where my hand just was. My tongue slips between her folds. She cries out, curving even more. Bella grips the bed sheets, letting her knees slack, leaving her legs open. I push two fingers inside of her, pushing my tongue against her clit. She rocks against my mouth, whispering incoherencies. My fingers moves slowly. My tongue moves hard. There's a foot on my shoulder, she's pushing me away. "Stop! God, Edward, you have to stop." I wipe my mouth off on the side of her thigh. I don't bother with my fingers. "Too
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much?" I ask, kissing under her jaw. She's breathing hard, limp beneath me. "I thought I was going to die. Like, my lungs and heart were about to explode." I kiss below her ear, her temple, her forehead and her nose. Bella pushes me off her and struggles to get me onto my back. "Evil boxers," she mumbles, pulling them down to my thighs. "Hello," she greets Preston. I touch the side of her face. She licks her lips. My dick jumps. Bella kisses the tip. She kisses her way down my shaft, slowly. Killing me. Her nipple brush between my legs as she moves. "You're balls are hairy. They tickle. Shave them." She's laughing again. I shake my head, trying not to laugh. I smirk instead. "Your smirk is as evil as your boxers." Then her mouth is on me and I see motherfucking stars. I lift my head to watch; Bella's eyes are closed, her hand is circled around the base of my cock, and her lips look so good, so swollen, so fucking sweet on me. I touch her hair, moving it away from her face, pushing it over her shoulder. She brings my tip to her lips, taking her mouth off completely. Bella leans back on her calves, wiping her mouth and chin off with the back of her hand. She crawls to me on her hands and knees until we are together again. She places her palm on my chest. She kisses my collar bone. She straddles my hips. "I love you," she whispers in the dark, all hints of laughter entirely gone. "I love you," I whisper. Bella lies down on my chest and my arms go around her, keeping her to me. We don't say a word; we hardly take a fucking breath we just are. It's been too long since we've just let it be. Life is hard: kids, work, money. We'll never be the fucking Jones's, that's for sure, but we're getting there somewhere close. It took thirty years for me to grow a fucking conscience, but I sorta have one.
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Bella and I will only ever be "sorta." We'll sorta get along, and we'll sorta raise our kids right. We'll sorta be normal and do normal family shit. We'll never really change, though. Can't. We are who we are and if there is one thing we've been honest about this entire time, it's that we do not apologize for being the people we are or how we choose to love each other. Love has never been the problem, it was everything else that fucked us up. It took half a lifetime to figure shit out, but I think we'll be okay now. I can't promise that my son won't grow up to be just like me; he's already a little witty mother fucker. And my daughter, who hasn't been touched by her mother for the first year of her life, who knows how she'll turn out. She might take after Bella. That's a terrifying thought. But I'll tell you fucking what, I may be raising a family of misfits but we'll love each other harder than any other boring ass family does. My children will never lack passion or determination. My children will grow to be strong people who speak their mind and do what they want. They'll never be taken advantage of, and they'll never feel bad for how they are how ever they turn out. I feel sorry for the poor bastards that fall in love with Gunner and Habit they have no idea what they are in for. I won't be like my dad. She won't be like Renee. We'll change that. It's the one good thing I can guarantee my kids. Everything else, well, we'll just have to cross our fingers and hope for the best. I roll Bella onto her back, putting myself between her legs. After ripping the side strap on her panties, I pull them down her legs. My chest is filling up. My heart is heavy, full of anxiety and love and fucking wonder. My life with Bella began the moment I was fucking born, but this is it this is forever and love is safe here.
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When I'm inside of her I push hard, deep to her end. I feel Bella all around me, and I die a little more. I'd take all of the bad, all of the misfortune and hard-times we've been though just for this moment. All of the little bit of good we've accomplished together made all of the blood, sweat, tears, guns and fights worth it. Bella is the love of my life. Her nails dig into my back; I'm in and out of her hard. She's moaning, whimpering, almost screaming. I kiss her face. I kiss her lips. We share breathes. We share I love you's and thisshit is for always, baby. I grab the head board, trying to rip her insides out, because is deep ever really enough? When it's over and we're falling, we clutch and grip and grab. I cry out; she's too much for me. She over-fills me and leaves be broken and dumb and blind just the way I need. Her hands are on my sweaty face, kissing my sweaty forehead. She's crying. She's sobbing, begging me to tell her that we will survive this. "Don't we always?" I ask, kissing her lips. It's hours later before we stop. When we do, we're breathless and spent. Our bedroom is hot and dark with a little bit of sunrise. Bella is calm now, tickling her little fingers though my messy-as-fuck hair. "Do you remember that one time you threw a brick through my truck window?" she asks, softly laughing. That was a lifetime ago. "Yeah." Like it was the most normal reaction ever. "Do you remember when you threw a can of Coke at Lauren's face because she wouldn't leave my house?" She laughs out loud. "God, yes." We're quiet again after that, until: "Do you remember when you tried to kill yourself?" Then: "Do you remember leaving me here while you went to Forks?"
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"I remember," she whispers. "So do I," I say. Those were stupid questions. Of course we remember. But that's the point isn't it? To live and to learn sorta. . . . I don't know when we fell asleep, but we did. When I open my eyes little-man is standing at the head of my bed with his fucking Bumblebee blanket and his Buzz Light-Year doll. "Nakey," he says, pointing right at me. He's right, I am naked, so is Bella. "Close your eyes, Gooch" I'm so fucking tired. He doesn't listen, and when I pull away from Bella he says, "Nuggets." I throw a pillow at him. He falls. He cries and Bella wakes up. And because this is my nightmare, Habit starts to cry though the baby monitor. I get out of bed, toss Bella some pajamas and pick the kid up off of the floor. His eyes are red-rimmed and twinned with his mom's. Gunner's Mohawk is soft, leaning to one side of his head. "Want some cereal, kid?" I ask, holding the boy like a sack of potatoes. He laughs, so we're cool. Bella is behind me, walking a little bit oddly. She goes into Habits room. All I hear is: "Dammit, Rabbit." She's been taking her diapers off during the night. Sometimes it's sorta gross. In the kitchen the four of us sit around the table eating Lucky Charms. Bella is still
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distant toward our little girl, but she's making faces at her that cause Habit to big-belly-laugh. So there's that hope. Gunner thinks it's funny to throw pots of gold into my hair. It's whatever. He's such a little shit. Under the table, my leg is wrapped with Bella's. We share little looks, little touches. My chest fills up all over again. We scoot out chairs together without realizing. Her head in on my shoulder, my lips are on her hair. Our fingers are interlaced. She's sitting on my lap. Gunner spills his cereal all over the table. Neither one of us get up to clean it. It drip, drip, drips onto the floor. Her arms are around my neck. My arms are around her lower back. Our chests are pressed together. We are close. We are closest. We are Closer.

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Epilogue
Epilogue Smella It's amazing how fast time flies by, right? Hours feel like minutes, days feel like hours, years feel like days. Five years feels like nothing, but here we are, and guess what, we survived. Sorta. I mean, we survived the only way we could, together and growing. My kids bounce and sway in the center of the dance floor. Alice, in her stupid white wedding dress, dances with them. Emmett has a tall and beautiful Harlie on his shoulders. Rosalie is probably at the bar, but I'm sure she's watching. "It's a fucking trip, right? They grow so fucking fast." Edward and I think in the same way. He watches our kids, being kids, being happy. Gunner pushes Habit down. He's still a little monster, but Habit is, too. She gets up and pulls his hair until he cries. Uncle Emmett pulls them apart. I take another drink of my Corona, leaning back onto my husband. "Want another one?" he asks, kissing the top of my head. "Yeah, I'll take another beer. I'll need the entire case to feel comfortable in this stupid dress." It's pink, it's mini, and it's ugly as fuck. But you wear a ugly, pink, mini dress for family on their wedding day if they want you to. Especially when she's given you this excuse: "Mini-pink is so L.A., Bella. It's so SoCal. What did you expect, lace and pastels?" "No, Smella, another kid." "You've got to be joking me." I laugh out loud, sitting up. I face Edward and laugh a little more. He's laughing, too.
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Alice finally got over herself and decided to marry Jasper. I don't know what it is about our backyard that screams "small wedding," but they're doing it here. They did it here. They got married and I was the Matron of Honor. Now our family flutters around in our dream sprinkled yard, drinking alcohol and chit-chatting. Esme and Carlisle dance beside the kids, ignoring the horseplay, pretending to be in love. Who knows, maybe they are. Jasper takes Harlie from Emmett and sets her on the floor. He spins her around until her little giggle-laughs float into the air with the twinkling lights. Alice hides Gunner underneath her dress and I fear for his life, but he thinks it's the funniest thing ever. Habit is clapping her hands, jumping up and down in her pink, polka-dot tutu flower-girl dress. I bought it for her. It was special. Tyler is at the bar taking shot after shot while Natalie lectures him on the psychological effects of over-drinking. Sometimes dating a shrink sucks. Then she's like: "We'll if you're going to be fucked up, so am I." Sometimes dating a shrink rocks. Nate, Ester and some of the homeboys are around here drinking out of brown paper bags; they're pretty typical. But I gotta tell you, I don't know what it is about the paper bag but it definitely makes the beer taste better. Employees from the clinic, other friends and family mingle around and celebrate the marriage that was a long time coming. Sitting back and watching it all is nice. Life has been nice. Sorta.
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"Want to dance?" Edward asks, standing up and taking my hand. I'm pulling my dress down the entire way to the dance floor. Edward, with his beautiful green eyes and super strong grip, holds me tight. He spins me around and brings me back. Always bringing me back. Our kids circle around us, laughing and jumping. Edward kisses the corner of my mouth. I capture his face in my hands and hold him to me. I smile. I just smile. While Edward and I are smiling and holding, Goochie sneaks away and we don't notice. He opens the dog's kennel. Sid and Nancy have these stupid flower wreathes around their necks because they were apart of the wedding party. "Wedding dogs are so L.A., Bella," Alice had said. She's so dumb, because now look. "Dammit, Goochie!" Edward yells, running toward our bad, bad kid. The kid takes off with the dogs. What do you do when your hooligan of a child releases his pit-bulls onto the wedding, and those pit-bulls are now on a full sprint toward the wedding cake? What do you do when your sister-in-law screams, "Noooooooo!" and tries to catch the dogs but only trips over her stupid white wedding dress? What do you do when your husband isn't fast enough and your pink mini-dress won't let you run without showing your undies? Scream.

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