"What do you make of all this, hermano?"

"Well, it's certainly not good news. I'd like to say grief makes people do crazy stuff. At the same time, especially when it comes to her and that family- they all had the proclivity to show their true colors when backed into a corner. Edward chose to abandon his humanity before I killed him. It wouldn't surprise me if his wife did the same after finding out her husband is dead."

Marshall propped his phone between his ear and shoulder. Doing so freed his hands, making it easier to steer a newly refurbished motorcycle which was being guided along the stone pathway. He could make out his destination clearly, the small house sitting in a large clearing. The place showed signs of life, so he made sure to keep his voice low so as to not alert anyone of his presence yet.

Brad had just finished telling Marshall everything he knew about the whole ordeal with Bella deserting Charlie. Marshall wanted to say he was surprised by things turning out this way. But, honestly, it would be a lie. He knew Bella, even before being turned, revolved her entire world around Edward. She constantly lied to her father for the sake of having a certain type of freedom when it came to her relationship. Charlie had been labeled as an annoying, overprotective, overbearing parent; which, in Marshall's eyes, was complete and utter bullshit.

Charlie was simply acting as any loving, rightfully concerned parent would. He wanted his daughter to live a fulfilling life and be happy—just not at the expense of throwing everything away for a guy she barely even knew. He set specific rules in place because he could tell the connection Edward had with Bella was...putting it politely, quite strange. 

They both had an unhealthy obsession with each other that went beyond most mated relationships. They didn't care about their friends, families, or hobbies. They only cared about being with the other person and didn't pay any mind to any casualties brought on by their intense companionship. They would've been happy to watch the world burn if it meant they could achieve everything they'd wanted.

Charlie, above all else, was just doing what he thought would keep his daughter safe.

And she repaid said sentiment by breaking his heart and abandoning him.

Marshall knew Bella was most likely cutting ties because she was gearing herself up to become a stronger vampire.

To hunt him down for the sake of avenging Edward.

The thought didn't scare him in the slightest, of course. Marshall just felt bad for the people who were being harmed and dragged into a situation which didn't have anything to do with them.

He made a mental note to reach out to Charlie later to see how he was doing.

"Hey, listen, I gotta run. But if you find anything else out, let me know, okay? We can talk about this more when I get back."

"Yeah, no worries. Paul, Leah, and I should be done with patrol within the next twenty-ish minutes. We'll wait for you so we can start prepping dinner together."

"I appreciate it, Romero. You guys be safe, yeah?"

"Course. I'll see you in a bit, Marsh."

Offering a quick, "Love you", Marshall hung up the phone. The device was slid into his pocket right as he approached a small house. A long ramp traveled up toward the main entrance. A rectangular-shaped package was waiting on the welcome mat, cardboard a bit soaked from a persistent drizzle.

Marshall was about to ascend the ramp to ring the bell; however, the door opened before he had the chance.

He put forward a friendly smile. "Evening, Billy."

"Oh, hi, Marshall." Billy picked up his package, setting it down in his lap to free the walkway. His wheelchair was guided down toward the bottom so the two could share a handshake. "I wasn't expecting you today."

"I'm just dropping off Jake's bike. He let me borrow it for a couple days while he was out of town."

"Ah, that makes sense." Billy motioned toward his large garage a few yards away. "He's working on a new personal project. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you. While you're here, though, I did just start a new true crime series. Would you be interested in watching with me?"

Marshall perked up in excitement. "Sure, I have some time to kill before heading home. Just give me a couple minutes- I'll be right in."

"Take your time."

Separating, Marshall trekked along the path leading to the garage. He immediately took note of a sweet coppery aroma emanating from the space. His relaxed form became more rigid as strong tension tried to take hold of him.

Considering Jake's imprint was half vampire, it wasn't farfetched to imagine him having such a distinct smell lingering on his person.

Spending all his time with the wolves, though, stole Marshall's ability to fully ignore the strong fragrance without shuddering.

"Hey, Jake, sorry to bother you. I just wanted to-"

Marshall paused at the entrance.

In front of him, Jake was leaning against his work table. Carlisle and Esme stood a few feet in front of him, hand in hand. Between the trio, occupying a swivel chair and with a juice box clasped between her fingers, sat a little girl.

She appeared to be in her preteens. Wavy dark hair fell down to her hips. Innocent, shimmering brown eyes gazed into a pair of red ones with intrigue. Her simple outfit—a purple trench coat, blue jeans, and red rain boots—were fully revealed as she rose from her seat.

She was only a few months old, but it was easy to guess who the young child was.

Jake rose to his feet, alarmed. "Marsh- I-"

Looking his old parental figures up and down, Marshall brought his attention back to his friend. "Relax. You're fine. I was just...coming to drop off your bike. That's all."

He walked forward with quiet steps. The motorcycle was propped onto its kickstand, allowing it to lean without tipping over. A single key was left in a small storage compartment beneath the seat to keep from getting lost.

Throughout the entire exchange, no one said anything.

Marshall was thankful for that.

He didn't want to force a conversation with his old coven mates, even if it was the polite thing to do. They'd reached the point of no return when it came to their relationship a long time ago. A bond which used to have the title of "strained" now fell under the category of "nonexistent". While discomfort lingered, there was no sense of disappointment, yearning, or hope.

All he could feel now toward Carlisle and Esme was indifference.

Judging by the saddened looks on their faces, perhaps not caring about them at all hurt more than if Marshall still hated them.

"Right. Well. I'm going to hangout with Billy for a little before going. So. I'll see you tomorrow at Sam and Emily's for movie night."

Nodding to himself, Marshall turned away from the scene before him.

He was only able to take three steps when a tiny, warm hand wrapped around his wrist to stop him.

He peered over his shoulder with a neutral expression. "Yes, Renesmee?"

"You're...uncle Marshall, right?" she asked with a sweet, soft voice. "You're the one who made it so grandpa and grandma were the ones to take care of me?"

Marshall clenched his jaw. A sense of guilt washed over him because, whether they were bad people or not, he was still the reason why a little girl didn't have her parents around. They were gone because of him-

No-

No, that wasn't true.

Marshall killed Edward after he came to the conclusion that getting rid of the wolves meant more than caring for his own daughter. Edward was the one who allowed his love for Bella to persevere over his love for their infant child. Edward was the one who, after believing his wife to be dead, decided causing pain was worth more than being a father.

And Bella—she proved how vengeance was more important than raising the child she'd previously fought so desperately to protect. After all, even if Marshall hadn't killed Edward, the threat of death was always there. Had someone else gotten rid of him, Bella would still be on the path she was currently walking.

Marshall killed, yes; however, he wasn't the one who chose to sever the parent-child relationship beforehand.

Renesmee losing her parents was caused by their inability to care about anything but themselves.

Marshall faced his niece, kneeling down so he was at her level. "Yes, that's me. And, yes, I am."

Renesmee's lips parted in the middle. She took in her uncle's appearance, truly getting a look at him since this was the first time she actually saw his face so close. Every flick of the eyes showed a different detail about him being committed to memory.

Then, without warning, she wrapped her arms around his neck to hug him.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Marshall didn't know how to react. Renesmee was thanking him? For killing Edward? For being one of the reasons Bella decided to leave?

He pulled back to see her young face in its entirety. "Why thank me? I'm sure not having them around has been hard-"

"It would've been harder had they stayed," Renesmee countered with total sincerity. "I have memories of them. From when I was in mom's belly. I couldn't see them, but I knew their voices. I heard how they would talk about me. How dad wouldn't accept me if I ended up killing mom. How mom, if dad died while protecting us, would never stop to get justice for him.

"After I was born, and I saw mom for the first time, she- she rejected me. She couldn't even look at me. She kept saying it was my fault that everything turned out the way it did- and how she lost dad and could never get him back again. Mom got into a really bad argument with grandma and grandpa too because they tried to defend me. Mom kind of took that as them not agreeing anymore, and she left the coven. I don't know where she is now. But...if mom and dad were that mean to me for stuff I couldn't control, I think I was better off being raised by my grandparents."

Marshall's stiff form deflated. 

He was shocked speechless by how much he saw his old self within his niece. Being blamed for things they couldn't control, being the one to take the heat because other people were too cowardly to own up to their mistakes, being a punching bag for people who thrived on hurting innocent bystanders —the resemblance was so spot on, it was like looking into a mirror.

Renesmee didn't deserve to feel like that. She was so young. She hadn't even done anything wrong. Things falling apart in her life didn't happen because of her actions. It was wrong for anyone to make her think otherwise.

"It's true, Marsh." Carlisle stepped forward. "Renesmee can show you if you don't believe her. She has the ability to show people her memories through touch. She can prove everything that's happened until now, if you'll allow her."

Marshall shook his head. 

There was no reason for anyone to be lying. Especially Renesmee. Plus, having heard about Charlie's situation, their words were given some extra credibility.

"Listen to me, Renesmee," Marshall told her, careful to not call her by a nickname for the sake of not forming an attachment. "I know what it's like to feel that way. People making you think the world is ending because of you. People placing the blame on you because it's easier for them. Believe me when I tell you, though, that every bad thing your parents ever said to you was wrong. It's not your job to control how other people act- especially as their daughter. It wasn't, and never will be, your job to parent your parents.

"If you're growing up in a positive environment, I'm glad. But if there ever comes a time where you think people are getting in the way of your growth, no matter who they are, give yourself permission to leave. I did so, and...it's done wonders for me. And while I wasn't able to find what I needed with the old coven, I can only hope that you will with what's left of it. You seem like a very kind girl, Renesmee. Don't ever let anyone snuff that out. Because while there will be times where people aren't kind to you, the only thing you should worry about is being kind to yourself. Okay?"

Renesmee nodded her head in understanding.

Marshall couldn't help it when he gently ruffled her hair. "You have a lot of people who care about you too. You have your grandparents. You have Jake. You have the other pack members who wouldn't hesitate to protect you. There are so many nice people in your life who will, hopefully, fill the void your parents forced onto you. I know you'll be able to be a wonderful person- with or without them."

"What about you? Will you be around too?"

"...As much as that would be nice, I'm afraid not. I've been doing a lot of thinking about certain things recently. And, while the coven might be a good place for you, it's not for me. So, in order for me to thrive the way I need to, I'm going to keep my distance. I hope you can understand why."

Renesmee pouted in disappointment. She didn't try to argue, however, and gave another nod.

Offering a smile, Marshall reached down to squeeze one of her hands. Then, he rose back up to his normal height and walked out of the garage.

He was stopped again by another hand grabbing his arm. This one was the same temperature as his normal frosty one.

He didn't bother turning around again.

"Marsh, we..." Esme couldn't stifle a distressed whimper as she talked to her son. "I know it might be too late, but- we're so sorry for how things were-"

"There's no reason to apologize. I don't need that from you anymore. I've made my peace with my demons. I've let go of the things holding me back. My biggest goal is to keep moving forward so I can be as happy as possible."

Another, larger hand settled on his shoulder. "Well...are you? Happy, I mean."

Marshall reached up to caress his choker. "I am. Very happy. And in order for me to stay that way- to make sure I don't have some sort of relapse into bad habits- just as I've let go of my hatred toward the old family, I'm letting go of you guys too. For good. So, as much as you guys feel guilty- as much as you guys want to fix what was broken- honestly, I don't need it anymore. Like I said, I've made my peace. Found it in other people too. In order for you guys to find yours, I think your best course of action would be to forget me. You have a beautiful little granddaughter to take care of now. Focus on her. And let the memory you have of me fade into the background."

"But- Bella-"

"I know she's coming after me. And that's my business. Don't concern yourselves with her. It's not your battle to fight anymore."

Both desperate holds on Marshall's body moved away, freeing him.

"Is this...really what you want."

"Yes. It is."

Carlisle sighed. "Then...we'll respect your decision."

Esme took a step closer. "Just...please, even if this is the last time we ever see each other- please, take care of yourself, sweetheart."

Lightly humming in response, Marshall offered a small wave over the shoulder to bid one final goodbye. An unexpected, heavy weight which had settled on his chest lifted as well.

He was proud of himself for continuing to let go of what was necessary to get rid of.

All thoughts pertaining to his individual growth halted, though, when he caught sight of a certain police cruiser parking in front of the Black house. Marshall continued forward until getting to the end of the ramp. He took out a pair of shades to hide the natural red of his irises.

Charlie exited his car with a light shiver. His skin looked paler than normal. Purple bags lined the lower lids of his eyes. The poor man looked like he'd been sleeping too much, not sleeping at all, and crying his heart out.

Marshall was the one to initiate a handshake. "Evening, Charlie."

"Hey, you're...Marshall, right? Paul's husband?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"I see. Sue and the kids talk about you a lot. It's nice to finally put a face to a person I've heard so much about." Charlie opened his mouth before shutting it, unsure of how he wanted to continue. "Hey, um, I know this might be out of the blue, but...can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"It- it's about my daughter. Is it true that Edward isn't around anymore?"

Marshall silently picked his words carefully in his head. "It's true. He's gone. They're not together anymore. I've heard the heartache of coming to terms with the separation is something she's making everyone else's problem too."

"Oh- so, you know..."

"I do. I've also spoken to...our parents about it. We're not really on speaking terms like that, but they have told me how Bella's severed relationships with them too. The way she's acting, though- it doesn't have to do with anyone but herself. I heard she blamed you for things falling apart. I sincerely hope you know she was saying things like that just to hurt you. They weren't actually true."

"She definitely succeeded in doing so..."

Marshall put a steady hand on Charlie's back. "She's trying to put other people through Hell because she's mad she didn't get her way in the end. That's not your fault. You're not a bad father, Charlie. You did your best in raising her. Your best bet at this point is focusing on you and the people who are making an effort to be in your life. There's no point in going after a phantom who doesn't want to be found. Believe me- I know from experience what chasing dead relationships can do to a person."

Charlie glanced over to meet his companion's partially shielded gaze. "Marsh...how old are you?"

"Twenty five, why?"

"Would you...maybe want to join me and Billy for a beer? I get it if you're busy. It's just- I haven't had time to feel like me in a while. Talking to you is helping me get that part of myself back."

Marshall chuckled, leading them to the doorway. "I was actually planning on staying for a bit before meeting up with Paul. In the meantime, we can get to know each other a little better."