The house hadn't changed since he last resided within its confining walls.

The Cullen estate was supposed to give off a sense of unperturbed openness for those who lived within it; as shown via multiple spacious levels, floor to ceiling windows, large rooms filled with personal touches and decorative styles. It was supposed to be a safe haven for a family who constantly had to remain guarded when standing in the public eye. Their worries left them as soon as they walked through the door; and stresses of everyday life morphed into blissful relief.

For Marshall, however...that was never the case.

He was never afforded the luxury of breaking down his walls around those who were supposed to care for him-because his problems started with those claiming the title of "family".

Peering into the old loft from the street down below didn't fill him with a sense of nostalgia. Neither did familiar voices laughing together from one of several family rooms. Instead, he was bombarded by a tornado of memories whose chaotic winds stripped away a feeling of safety.

Even now, grievances from decades past revealed their hideous faces. His hands clenched into tight, trembling fists.

Marshall didn't dare to move.

Not when he could hear all of those horrible, horrible declarations screeching at him in his head: how he was flawed, broken, and unlovable; how he needed to be tweaked in order for anyone to give him the time of day; how his opinions never mattered, unless they were capable of solving issues; how his sole responsibility was to give, regardless of whether or not his unsteady hands had already been emptied and there was nothing left of him to sacrifice.

Marshall had been to the Cullen house plenty of times since he moved out.

However, it was his newest goal to make himself happy which made this visit so difficult.

Because, even though he honestly didn't love any of the people inside anymore, their lives left a stain on his soul. All of their words, gestures, and tiny moments-all of their interactions since Marshall became a vampire couldn't be so easily forgotten. He knew a small part of himself still cared since the need to do so had been shoved down his throat until he digested it without pushback.

Such instinctual habits wouldn't die easily.

For himself, though, in order to continue thriving in a healthy manner, Marshall had to let them go.

He needed to.

The first step in doing so was right in front of him, waiting.

A stiff swallow forced down an unexpected desire to scream.

Marshall held back a flinch when warm hands settled on his shoulders, and a gentle kiss was pressed against the skin of his neck. "Are you having second thoughts, my love?"

"Never. Really, it's nothing of that magnitude. It's just..." He took in a deep, wavered breath. "It's not easy being here. Remembering things. I just want to leave."

A temperature akin to his own wrapped around his wrist, fingers offering soft rubs against the back of his hand. "The quicker we do this, the quicker we can go back home, hermano. And then you'll never have to deal with this, or them, ever again. We'll take care of you. You just have to trust us and remember your decision is really for the best. That, more than anything, this is for you. Your life. Your future."

Marshall closed his eyes to gather himself. When he reopened them, an appearance of timidity dissolved into one of confidence. He straightened his posture, rolled the tension out of his shoulders, and allowed his strong grip to relax.

His frown remained, fueling his newly established determination.

He glanced back at the truck waiting behind him. "We'll be back as soon as possible. Shouldn't take too long."

Leah shook her head, thumbs drumming against the steering wheel. "It's fine, there's no rush. Do whatever it is you have to do. And if you end up needing backup for whatever reason, just give me a shout."

Her attention shifted toward Brad for a moment. The two shared soft smiles with each other before bringing their attention back to their appointed tasks. Marshall did the same by walking across the street to ascend the house's front staircase.

Each stride felt like he was trudging along in a batch of wet concrete. His shoulders were weighed down by invisible boulders. Forced breaths to keep himself calm were shallow at best, anxiety pushing a sensation of hands wrapping around his throat to overcome him.

Taking steps to better his own life was still a hard, unfamiliar task; but he wasn't going to give anyone the opportunity of saying who he was, what he could be, or what he wanted to do anymore.

Slightly quivering resolve steeled up even more when ringing the doorbell.

Esme was the one to greet her son. She looked at the small group standing on her front porch with a look of surprise. A reserved wave was given as a nonverbal gesture of saying hello. The only response she got was a single nod in acknowledgment.

"Hi, Marshall. Boys." Esme smiled. "What brings you here today?"

"I was never able to get the last of my belongings after I moved out," Marshall explained with an even tone. "So I wanted to do so now. I hope that's fine."

"Oh, uh- of course. Here, come in."

The trio were let into the house. Esme closed the door behind them and opted to lead them up the stairs to their destination. Marshall didn't really see any point in doing so since he knew where everything was. Then again, it wasn't his house to waltz through freely anymore.

Perhaps Esme was setting her own boundaries by making that distinction known: Marshall didn't live with his family anymore, so their home was no longer his.

All the more reason to complete his self appointed mission.

"Seems pretty noisy in here today. I didn't think we'd be interrupting."

"You're not, don't worry." Esme stopped at the third floor landing, turning to meet her son's gaze. "Everyone is just excited because Edward and Bella are getting married this week. We're just putting some final touches on a couple crafts Alice wanted to do by hand."

Marshall assumed his mother was bringing him to address everyone. He certainly didn't want that. His only goal was to retrieve his things and tell Carlisle about certain decisions being made. There wasn't a point in getting the others involved.

Especially when their input meant nothing in his eyes.

Really, explaining everything to Carlisle was more of a courtesy than anything. Keeping their meeting civil was just as important, though. So, if necessary, Marshall could fake pleasantries if it meant leaving faster.

"Esme, is Carlisle-"

"Marshall! Oh, finally!"

Edward rose out of his seat with a rather...excited look on his face. His very apparent delight only skyrocketed as he maneuvered around several pieces of champagne-colored fabric strewn across couches, tables, and rugs. He walked on his toes to keep his shoes from trampling stray cardstock pieces covered in several swirly fonts. Laughter continued around the room, adding extra layers of merriment to the overall scene.

Marshall looked around, uneasy. "Um...have you been waiting for me for something?"

"Yeah- here!" Edward kicked a large open box in his brother's direction. "We're converting your old loft into a bigger living space for Bella and myself. We were initially going to throw this stuff away after we were done crafting. But now that you're here, you can take it off our hands."

Having his keepsakes and items of importance labeled as mere trash made Marshall's left eye twitch in annoyance.

Looking down, he noticed a few snow globes, wooden figurines, and desktop knickknacks had been tossed haphazardly onto a pile of expensive pieces of clothing. One of his favorite miniature sculptures of himself playing the cello had been broken. Same with a framed certificate of recognition he'd received in China for his musical arrangements during his time as an overseas composer. Several vinyls of his own music were missing their protective sleeves too; and bottles of foreign cologne appeared to have been heavily tested before getting thrown into a box in an uncaring manner.

Marshall chuckled, glancing to the side so he wouldn't have to see Edward's smug face.

It looked extra targetable at the moment.

"You know what? I appreciate you boxing my things for me. Makes it a lot simpler for me to get the hell out of here." Marshall turned toward Paul with a fake grin. "Tiger, could you take this down to the car for me? I'll only be a minute."

Surveying his lover's expression, Paul nodded. He picked up the box with ease and openly offered a delicate kiss to his imprint. In front of the entire Cullen family.

A room filled with high energy was now as silent as a funeral.

"Call me if you need anything, Marshmallow."

"You really are the greatest husband in the world. You know that?"

Paul hid his smirk when hearing multiple gasps in shock. He kissed Marshall's hand, gave a friendly pat on the shoulder to Brad, and descended the stairs to wait by the car with Leah.

Marshall's feigned happy-go-lucky attitude simmered down into a teasing one. "Don't know why you guys are so surprised. He's my mate. It was only a matter of time for us to get married. You can't really say it's too soon when Bella and Edward haven't even been together for the equivalent of a full year."

Rosalie's jaw practically hit the floor. "You- are you serious? You actually asked a wolf to marry you?"

"I didn't stutter, so I'm sure you heard me loud and clear the first time. But, to clarify, I didn't ask him. He asked me. It was certainly in my plans to do so in the near future. He just beat me to it."

"How long?"

"Since June 14. Not that it's any of your business, of course. I'm only telling you because I like bragging about my wonderful husband."

It was Alice's turn to jump in with her own amount of unnecessary surprise. "You were married before the fight with Victoria's army?"

"Yup." Marshall crossed his arms over his chest, allowing his grin to widen. "That really shows how much you guys pay attention to significant things. Oh, wait, my bad. If it has to do with me, then it's not important. I forgot."

His rebuttal was met with silence, spurring him on to clear his conscience of so many feelings he'd been hiding.

"It wasn't like I was being subtle or anything. You guys should know by now, if you've paid attention or bothered to get to know me as a person, that I don't wear jewelry on my hands. I've always had piercings and stuff like that around my neck, but I've never had anything occupy my fingers. Besides, my ring is red and black. Two extremely striking colors against my complexion. Hell, even Brad noticed without me saying anything. Yet it took you guys over a month to figure it out?"

"Honey, it- it's not like we see you often."

Esme's attempt to simmer down a growing fire only worked to anger Marshall further.

"Oh yeah? Well, guess what? Brad wasn't around when I got married either. He was on his way back from Spain, got attacked by Victoria, was turned into a vampire, and almost died trying to protect me. But, again, even with all that happening, it only took him a good day or so to acknowledge the fact that I have a husband now. And not only did he acknowledge it- he respects it. Which is way more than I can say about any of you.

"I mean, really, now- your attempts at trying to seem like good people were valiant efforts to cover up for the fact that none of you give a shit about me or what's going on in my life. Seriously- like, really, Esme, did you mean what you said that night I let you meet Paul for the first time in Port Angeles? That you were happy we were together- he was bringing out the best in me- how he's been able to see my worth when you guys can't? Did you actually mean that? Or were you trying to gain his favor to make it seem like it was okay for me to come here more often so you guys could continue to trample over me to your heart's content?"

Esme's only reaction was to look toward the floor in shame.

A tiny sliver in Marshall's chest ached; because he was finally realizing how even his most trusted parental figure had been lying through her teeth.

He should've known better to think she was different. To think he could be safe around her.

Well, now he did.

And he wasn't going to make the mistake of putting his blind faith in her a second time.

"Marshall, that's not necessary-"

"Oh, and father dearest, let's talk about you now, shall we?" Marshall faced Carlisle head on. "Do you remember playing all buddy-buddy with me that day we were chasing Victoria between territories? How you were making it seem like me being with the wolves was so nice and unbothersome to you? How you made it seem like you accepted my relationship with Paul? Because I'm starting to realize you only said those things to make yourself and the coven look good in front of the wolves. That you were trying to push the narrative of times having changed so you could form an alliance to make other people clean up your messes. Which is exactly what happened with Victoria's army.

"You've never cared about Paul. You've never cared about how serious our relationship is. You've only ever seen our attachment as a way to win over the pack. To make it easier for you to have dispensable people who could help solve your problems as their numbers dwindled, but yours remained untouched."

"Marsh, that- that's not true-"

"Really? Then I must be imagining how horribly Brad, Jake, Paul, and myself were injured. How half of Jacob's entire ribcage had been crushed. How Paul was almost killed by having a toxic substance enter his bloodstream. How Brad and I were literally almost ripped to pieces. Yet none of you were seriously harmed in any facet. But, yeah, I'm just imagining things, right?"

Coming to so many brutal understandings at once was overwhelming. Realizing how familial status worked so long to blind him of the heinous nature of those meant to protect and cherish him was downright maddening. Looking at his parents and calling them out on their bullshit, only for them to not correct him in return, above all else, was enlightening.

So, so enlightening.

"You know, I thought you would try to at least save some face. Tell me I'm wrong. Try to explain yourselves. But your answers, lacking as they may be, are enough to prove that I'm right. That little voice in my head telling me to never trust you was always right. Maybe had I listened sooner, I would've been saved a lot of stress. And heartache."

"Oh, please." Edward took a confrontational step forward. "I don't know why you're trying to play the victim card here! It's not like anything you've gone through has ever been substantial!"

Marshall stared, silently.

Then, he found his body quaking with laughter.

Everyone in the room only ever heard him do so when he was truly, and legitimately, pissed the fuck off.

"It always has to come down to a brawl between me and you, doesn't it." Marshall took a step forward as well. "Well, come on then. I've never been afraid of fighting with you. Give me your best shot, Eddie."

Edward's shoulders hiked up toward his ears. "I'm so tired of you! You're constantly putting this family down- spouting lies to try and make us seem like bad people! We've had to go through things too, you know! Sure, you've had to step in for us! And, yes, I'll admit, you've kept this coven afloat in really trying times- but that doesn't give you the right to disrespect us! You're twenty five- literally older than most of us! Of course it's expected for everyone to go to you with problems that need to be solved! You're the elder! The one who's supposed to carry the weight for us when things get too heavy! The one who's supposed to give when necessary! The one who has experience in being taken advantage of and would do anything to keep the rest of us from going through what you went through-"

His crazed rant was interrupted by even more laughter.

This time, instead of coming from Marshall, it came from Brad.

Edward looked at the other male, confused. "What's so funny?"

"It's not that it's funny. It's just insane how much bullshit you're spouting and trying to twist to make it seem like you're saying something positive about yourself." Brad walked forward until he was standing next to his best friend, placing a hand on his back to steady him. "A long time ago, around the time Marsh and I first met, he came out to me about his sexuality. He was really concerned about me having a negative reaction. About me not being able to take him as he is. It really made me wonder: what warped ideas are being pushed onto him to make him think he's not allowed to be himself? Hearing everything up to this point, I finally have a clearer understanding of why he needed a safe space away from here.

"Do you honestly hear yourself right now? Because all I'm hearing is you belittling, gaslighting, and abusing Marshall for finally having enough of you people. You're admitting that he's gone above and beyond to help you all, but that's the only reason he could have any worth?"

Rosalie stood up from her chair as well, ready to fight back. "All this family has ever strived to do was the right thing!"

Brad let out a short, bemused chuckle. "The right thing? I don't think any one of you standing in front of me truly understands what that phrase means. You've taken an innocent man whose only goal in life is to be happy- and you've tarnished and manipulated and broken him enough to force him into isolation. All for the sake of keeping himself safe. What the fuck is right about that?"

"You- you don't know us as people-"

"No. I don't. But I know Marsh. The real him. And I know the pain you've caused him is real too."

Marshall could only watch his friend, astonished.

They might've made jokes about his character, but Brad honestly was extremely protective over the people he cared about. He was never one to take things sitting down if it concerned a loved one getting hurt. He didn't get angry often. When it did happen, though, he could give Marshall a run for his money with how brutal he could get.

Brad didn't have to get into physical fights either. His words were enough to cut even the strongest of people down.

For someone who meant so much to him, he wasn't above hitting his enemies where it hurt.

"Wow. Talk about night and day. Maybe if you guys knew more people like Brad, you wouldn't be so terrible-"

Marshall barely had time to react when two people appeared in front of him.

Blinking, he took in the sight of Edward, his hand raised and ready to either slap or punch, and Brad, holding Edward's arm with enough ferocity to make him shake.

A minor clenching of his fingers made a sharp crack resonate throughout the room.

Edward was shoved against the opposite wall, cradling his wounded arm.

Brad was gently held back to keep him from further engaging.

"Relax. You don't have to worry. This is my fight-"

"This may be your fight, but as long as I'm here, standing beside you, you won't fight another battle by yourself ever again."

Although guilty for roping someone else into his clash, Marshall gave a grateful hug to Brad from behind.

They both watched as Edward attempted to get back onto his feet. Since he'd been thrown against a hanging bookshelf, he was surrounded by broken pieces of wood, shattered glass, torn papers, and crushed pottery. His arm already healed, but he was still holding it with burning pain still lingering in his bones.

He glared daggers at Brad. "No wonder Marshall is so defective. It's because of people like you! I should've killed you when I had the chance! You should've been torn apart and turned to ash just like all the others-"

A firm hand wrapped around Edward's throat, silencing him.

He was then thrown out of the nearest window and sent sprawling on the ground near the forest's edge across the street.

Marshall and Brad jumped down, landing easily on the last porch stair. The former shrugged off his jacket, giving it to the latter without a word. Neither of their pack mates said anything when seeing Marshall walk across the street with a murderous gaze.

They didn't even flinch when watching Edward get kicked so hard in the stomach, he was sent flying into a tree before crashing down onto its roots.

Members of the Olympic coven tried to run forward to assist. Brad waved his hand behind him, sending everyone sprawling against outdoor furniture.

Marshall barely noticed. He was more occupied by kicking Edward onto his back and stomping directly onto his chest. Then, he was picked up by the front of his shirt until he was at an appropriate enough height to receive a strong fist to the face.

"Marsh- please- please, stop!" Bella begged, clinging onto the vampire's arm.

He turned around, grabbing her by the shirt as well. "I suggest you think twice before ever attempting to touch me like that again."

She was shoved, tripping up the stairs while trying to stabilize herself.

Edward received another punch to the face before getting tossed aside again.

Marshall's body calmed without him noticing when his pack mates stood beside him.

"Allow me to make something crystal fucking clear, yeah?" He leveled everyone with a single stare, watching as some of them trembled in their spots. "I don't need this. I don't need you. I don't need this coven. The reason I came over here today wasn't just to pick up the last of my things. It was to tell you that I'm leaving! For good! All you've ever been is cruel and toxic and manipulative to me! I've poured decades of happiness down the drain for you people, and it took me being torn down to my lowest to realize my worth! And, newsflash, it isn't what you've given me! I'm worth more than the agony you've caused me since I was turned! I'm going to do what I should've done a long time ago by listening to my heart. And I'm going to do that by leaving this coven and following my pack."

Marshall's expression remained hard, despite his form becoming more lax with several hands caressing different parts of his body. He was thankful for the smell of wet dog coming at him from multiple angles.

"This is your first and final warning. The only reason I'm not killing any of you is because the treaty says I can't. I'm not letting you live out of the kindness of my heart. Because, believe me, nothing would give me more satisfaction than to be the one to do it myself. So let me be frank: if any of you dare to cross my path again, I swear, I'll make sure I'm the last thing you ever fucking see. And you all know better than anyone how good I am at keeping my word."