Note: Almost immediately after writing "Bark vs. Bite", the chapter in Pretty Boy where Marshall first meets Renesmee, I considered adding a part in the main story focusing on the growth of their familial relationship. I didn't, however, because I felt like it wasn't a super substantial addition to the overall plot. Still, though, there are two instances that have been on my mind pretty heavily which really shed light on how they ended up becoming so close. One happens when she's still a young, young baby, and the other happens when she resembles an older, more intellectual child.

There will be a tiny bit of new character lore added that wasn't in the main story, so get ready for that!

Also, before continuing, I just wanted to announce that after this chapter, there's a post credit chapter, one more Extra chapter, and then...

The section we've all been waiting for:

BRAD'S SURVIVAL ARC

I hope you're all ready for something wild when those parts get put out! 😎

***

Being in the Cullen house was still an uncomfortable experience.

Even though Marshall had agreed to put past grievances behind him, he was still firm in his belief that it was going to take time to actually do so. Warming up to people he frequently saw as strangers, regardless of their familial bonds, wasn't an easy goal to achieve. Especially when he was used to his ex coven mates lying, or saying one thing and proceeding to do the exact opposite for their own benefit. There was a bit of concealed fear of everyone collectively pretending to try so they could gain Marshall's favor to use him for something in the future. 

Some people had more promise than others when it came to change, of course. But aside from Carlisle and Esme, Marshall didn't trust the other vampires of the Olympic coven. Proclamations of turning a new leaf were still seen as, to be perfectly blunt, bullshit.

He was actually rather thankful of Renesmee because her newfound presence helped to dissipate some of the awkward tension lingering around the room.

A very loud, crowded, active room.

Marshall and Paul were occupying a corner space near the entryway. Everyone else situated themselves in different spots to either engage in conversation with each other or entertain themselves. 

Bella, Edward, Esme, and Rosalie were in the process of trying to calm down a hysterical Renesmee. 

Her cheeks were flushed. A few dried tear tracks went all the way down to her chin. An adorable little pout was accompanied by a faint quivering of her lower lip. The sobs which escaped her weren't particularly loud; but since vampires and wolves had naturally heightened hearing, the ordeal was overwhelming to a certain degree.

The stereo had been put on in an attempt to divert her attention elsewhere.

Continuous wailing proved the method to be ineffective.

Edward scratched at his head in confusion. "I'm really not sure what's wrong. She has a clean diaper. She's eaten. She isn't due for a nap any time soon."

"...Maybe she doesn't like your music."

All eyes flew toward Marshall's direction.

He leaned further into his husband's space, uncomfortable at being stared at by so many people. 

A warm hand dragging up and down the length of his spine was enough to help him calm down.

"That wasn't meant to come off as a jab at your personal taste. I'm just saying. Chances are that little miss Ladybug could be bored and might not like what's playing. Probably even wants someone to sing to her. She's upset, and hearing a familiar voice might pop the foggy bubble she's stuck in right now."

Shrugging, Marshall crossed his arms loosely over his chest. He didn't think anyone would listen to him, seeing as he's never been a parent or actively taken care of an infant child. His surface level observations could definitely be wrong or dismissed in their entirety.

He didn't expect for everyone to keep looking at him. A strange form of expectation was seen in the way they held themselves. As if they were waiting for something.

Marshall raised a single brow in confusion. "What?"

"Well..." Bella took a step forward, still attempting to calm her screeching daughter. "I've never heard you myself, but Edward has told me that no one in the house really sings except for you."

Albeit true, that wasn't a response he expected to receive.

"You want me to do it?"

"Why not? It's the best way to test the theory. Oh- only if you want to, of course."

Marshall was somewhat taken aback.

For getting a choice in the matter, number one. And number two, at the idea of singing in front of the family.

When he was occupying a shared house with them before, he made it a habit to not perform in front of the others. Occasionally playing the piano in the living room only happened because he didn't keep said instrument in his own space with his personal collection. Singing, on the other hand, was strictly done in the comfort of a home studio away from curious onlookers. The reason as to why was simple: performing in front of family was weird. Hiding his talents had no ill meaning behind it—Marshall just thought singing in front of people he lived with was out of his comfort zone.

He learned to slowly get over those feelings as the years progressed, but he found difficulty in breaking the habit.

Perhaps...now could be a good time to try.

"...One song."

"One song it is."

A light kiss was pressed against Marshall's cheek before he pulled himself away from a sweet embrace—a gesture reminiscent of wrapping himself in a heated blanket.

He fished his phone out of the pocket of his pants to pair the device with the speaker perched on top of a high shelf. After doing so, he sifted through an assortment of playlists to see which would be appropriate enough to comfort an overstimulated toddler. There were instrumental lists, rock lists, R&B lists, indie lists, etc. A specific set labeled "Feelings of Asia" caught his attention.

The tracks featured music from several countries; each one of them not in English.

Would Renesmee have any interest in music with shifting cultural backgrounds?

There was only one way to find out.

Putting the playlist on shuffle, Marshall placed his phone down. Careful hands took hold of Renesmee. She was positioned in a way to keep her head propped against his chest while the rest of her body was cradled in one arm. 

From such close proximity, Marshall could see even more tears gathering.

He shushed her in a calm, reassuring manner. A hand was brought up to gently rake through her short strands of soft hair.

As if she'd just realized she was in someone's else's arms, Renesmee opened her eyes.

Marshall gave her a small smile.

And, in time with an instrumental opening coming to an end, he began to sing.

Decades worth of practice allowed him to keep a steady voice without issue. Well-honed skill in foreign enunciation alongside specific gestures with his mouth completely erased his normal accent. Pronouncing certain letters in an altered form was easy to accomplish since, while the language itself wasn't utilized for daily conversation, performing a tune like this happened regularly at home.

Marshall used his free hand to make tiny gestures, reminding him of what tones to use and what placement of voice he needed to sing with. His eyebrows furrowed together at certain parts. His head craned back a few centimeters for better air support at others. Adding flare to elongated notes happened by sprinkling in vibrato.

Renesmee stared up at her uncle with curious eyes. Her crying stopped, now coming out as light whimpers.

Marshall allowed his pointer finger to be grabbed when she reached for something to hold.

"What language is this?" Bella asked during another instrumental section.

"Mandarin. I used to do work in Beijing, Shanghai, Lianyungang, and...I believe it was Zhengzhou. I was able to pick up on Mandarin while I was dabbling with instruments native to Asia. My Chinese isn't as fluent as my Korean, same with my Japanese, because I didn't spend as much time in the country. I can get by with it if I ever go back, though."

"Wow. I didn't even know you guys settled overseas back in the day. I always assumed you just went around different parts of the country."

Edward took the reins to explain how the family ended up staying in Asia for so long. He made sure to do so as quietly as possible to not disturb Renesmee when soft lyrics came back in.

Marshall couldn't help when his fingers began drumming against her tummy. One of his favorite instruments to play was the guzheng; and whenever he heard music with it, his hands moved in a way to mimic the plucking gesture used to make notes. Faster melody meant faster plucking. Which also meant more playful jabs against Renesmee's belly.

Her sweet giggles filled up the room.

Her delighted smile filled Marshall's chest with warmth.

When the song finished, Renesmee began clapping her hands together. She sat up to steady herself on her uncle's shoulders. A firm grip gave her enough stability to start rocking back and forth. Light kicks of her socked feet showed how excited she'd gotten after being serenaded.

Marshall shifted his weight onto one foot, offering a light smirk. "Oh? What's this? Do you want me to keep going?"

Renesmee's smile grew. Her head tilted from side to side—probably a toddler's form of dancing.

"Mm...I don't know.~ Can I get a present first?"

Marshall was just teasing. If Renesmee really wanted him to keep going, despite what he said earlier, he would.

He didn't expect for a fat kiss to be pressed against his cheek.

His shocked, temporarily frozen body made him appear like he was going through a software reset.

A surprised chuckle escaped him. "Okay, okay, fine. Just because you're my Ladybug, I'll cave and spoil you."

More joyful giggling happened in time with another song's intro.

*

"Uncle Marsh, can I ask you something?"

Golden eyes looked away from white keys to peer into dark brown irises.

Marshall and Renesmee were currently sitting at the piano. He'd been giving her a lesson when she asked to hear some of his favorite songs. So, at first, more fast paced, high energy ones were ran through for the sake of hearing something impressive or funny. Then, gears were changed, and he started playing more emotionally driven songs. Ones that sounded more somber. Ones that gave off an unspoken impression of longing.

Marshall had just finished a tune about never wanting to part from someone when Renesmee spoke.

"Course, kiddo. What's up?"

Renesmee fumbled with her thumbs. "Are you...okay?"

Confused, Marshall glanced up toward Paul who was leaning against the piano. Both men shared a moment of eye contact before moving their attention back to the little girl sitting in between them.

"What do you mean? I'm fine, sweetheart. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. I just..." Renesmee's lips tightened. She let out a quiet breath through her nose, watching the piano keys. "You always act so happy. And you smile all the time. But your eyes are always so..."

"It's okay, you can say it. So what?"

"So...sad." Her statement was further emphasized by a frown. "Especially when you touch your pretty necklace."

His pretty necklace..?

Oh—the thick wire housing a picturesque landscape in Spain.

The Barcelona pendant.

Marshall wasn't really sure how to respond.

His grief still weighed heavily on his mind. The passage of time helped to dull his pain, but his inner wounds were too severe to always be ignored. Sometimes emotions hit him in ways he couldn't control: depression would sneak in when he least expected it, deep yearning to see someone who was no longer alive would make his heart ache, memories of fun times were sullied by the reminder of there not being a chance to make any more.

Negative feelings usually struck their hardest when Marshall had his guard down.

It was possible his hidden turmoil could be picked up while he was playing. Without him even noticing.

"Do you miss someone?"

He turned to face his niece completely. "What makes you think that?"

"Mom told me that sometimes jewelry is given to people as a gift to remember someone else. Do you miss the person who gave you your necklace?"

He didn't immediately answer.

Marshall didn't find it appropriate to admit his hardships to such a young child. He wasn't sure if she was truly old enough to understand the concept of death. He thought it was unfair to talk about a traumatizing event to someone who had an empathetic outlook on life.

Marshall just...didn't want to upset her by being too honest.

"Renesmee, honey, I think that's enough-"

"It's fine." Marshall put forth a smile to stop Bella. "She's just curious. No harm in that."

Renesmee slowly put her hand out, allowing it to rest in her uncle's palm. Her warmer skin was sandwiched in between his own much cooler temperature. A thumb traced along her knuckles to help soothe any worries trying to force their way to the surface.

"Uh...how should I put this..." Marshall's eyebrows knitted together as he searched for the right words to use regarding such a serious topic. "I...was friends with this guy for about five years. We were close enough to see each other as brothers more than anything. He was really nice, and we met after he settled down here after leaving Spain- the place on my necklace. We became friends the first day really fast, and it was really, really nice while it lasted.

"Some stuff happened, and, well, he's not around anymore. I only found out about this necklace, which he bought as a gift for me, after the fact. And, you're right, I do miss him a lot. I'm going to for...a long time. But having this necklace helps me feel like he's still here. It's kind of like I still have a physical part of him even if he's not with me anymore."

Renesmee glanced at the Barcelona pendant. "Do you think you'll ever see him again?"

*

"Who knows, maybe we'll meet again- in the next life."

*

"I can only hope that I do. Because if I'm ever able to find him after everything that's happened...it would make me so happy."

"Then I know he'll come back."

Marshall was caught off guard when his cheek was cupped.

Renesmee stared at him with a hard expression, her eyes determined and her lips pursed.

She spoke with so much certainty, her words could only be taken as fact.

"He sounds like a man who cared about you a lot. And if he did, I know he'd do everything he can to find you so you can be friends again. I don't know how long it might take. But if you keep believing in your heart and never let your hope go away, then I know he'll come back to you."

So much conviction.

So much blind faith.

Truly the unrestrained words belonging to a child who didn't know any better.

A child who hadn't experienced the barbarity of a life full of unforgiving cruelty.

Even so...

Marshall kissed his niece's forehead before pulling her in for a hug from the side. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind, Ladybug."