AN: Unbeta'd, because it's an outtake.

Out-take II: Rosalie and Emmett

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This section starts with Rose and Emmett being turned down by their last-chance doctor for IVF. I ultimately decided to go with only bpov for the story, but I do love this little glimpse of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship.

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"What are we going to do?" I asked, and braced myself for his answer. The doctor's office smelled like oranges and vanilla, worn leather and disinfectant. It was plush, but you can't get that hideous institutionalized smell out, you know? Lysol gets into everything. The air conditioning was on high, too, spewing that chemically cold scent into the air. Maybe it wasn't the AC, maybe it was just me. Maybe I'm the one who's cold.

Should I offer him an out? I should offer him an out. He shouldn't have to stick for this, not this. I should tell him it's good, he can go. What if he goes? My heart lurched at the thought. No babies and no Emmett? I couldn't…could I do that? I couldn't. Oh, god, what if he leaves? Would he do that? He wouldn't do that. He's not the type. Is it that big of a deal to him? God, I wish I knew what he was thinking.

"Whatever you want to do, babe." His voice was soft and low and I almost couldn't look him in the eyes, but then I did and the world just…tilted. It was like I was sixteen again and seeing him for the first time, and the world tipped just a bit, so that everything else slid away, except for him. He didn't need an out, and I didn't have to offer it. In two seconds flat I was on his lap, my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life.

No babies. How could they do this to me? I'd been perfect, my whole life. I'd planned for this. I took CPR when I was thirteen, took the babysitting classes at the Y. I didn't mess around, I got my pap smears every year, just like I was supposed to. I'd never been with anyone but Emmett.

I did everything right.

I waited until I was old enough to take care of a baby. I waited until we were ready to get married. I waited until we had good jobs and could provide for our family.

I did everything right.

So why can't I have a baby?

I didn't even realize I was crying until Emmett started rubbing my back, telling me that it we would figure something out. Not that everything would be okay, but that we would figure something out. And that's why I loved him. Because he never once lied to me, not even a white lie, not even to make me feel better.

I pressed my face into his neck and felt him hold me tighter. He felt my breathing even out and pulled on my shoulders, making me look him in the eye.

"You good?" he asked.

I sniffed, straightened and nodded. "Good."

"Good," he said, handing me a tissue. "Now wipe the snot off your face. Doc's going to be back in here any minute." He flashed me a dimple and handed me my compact.

In the end, it was all for nothing. I had one working ovary and one working tube and unfortunately they were not playing on the same side. We wanted to try in-vitro, but I had some scarring due to the ectopic pregnancy, and that, coupled with two previous miscarriages meant I was an undesirable candidate for IVF. Fucking clinics. It didn't matter if we had the will or the money. They wanted their success rates to stay nice and high, so were turned down by all four clinics in our area.

I felt like I was running out of time. At that point, surrogacy was just a scary word I'd come across a few times while looking for better options. I had no idea what was coming next, or that it would change everything, for all of us.

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This section begins after Rose, Emmett and Bella's disastrous first dinner with Edward.

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"What a clusterfuck," I said, looking out the window as we left the Cullen manse. I don't know who the fuck Edward Cullen thinks he is, but if he upsets her any more tonight, I'm going to personally kick his ass. She has been through enough and the baby—she needs to relax.

"He was weird tonight," Emmett answered.

"Tonight?" I said, cocking an eyebrow.

Emmett shifted into second, pulling out onto the main road.

"No, I mean, he's always been weird about Bella, but he was really weird tonight."

"What do you mean?" I tried to remember Edward and Bella in high school and couldn't. They were both just…around.

"Well, remember prom? How pissed Alice was that he wouldn't ask her? She really wanted the six of us to be together, but Edward wouldn't play along."

"Yeah?"

"Well Mark Cheney wanted to ask her, said something about it to me, because I knew her, and Edward kind of flipped out. He told Cheney to back off and, I don't know, kind of implied a beating if Bella showed up at prom. It was like…he just didn't want her there."

"Edward implied a beating?" I asked. "I didn't think he knew how."

Emmett made a dismissive noise and I caught his eye roll out of the corner of my eye. "Cullen's perfectly capable of delivering a smack down. He just never cared enough about anything to bother."

I thought about his words in the quiet and realized he was right. Alice was always trying to push the two of them together, trying to make a perfect union of the six of us. Instead, sometimes it was Edward and his latest flavor, and sometimes it was Bella staying home while we went on without her, and sometimes it was a strange mix, Bella's date and Edward's, awkward for all of us, having strangers in our midst.

From what I could remember about the two of them, Edward was usually just dismissive of Bella, treating her like an annoying kid sister. I was surprised to hear about the Prom. What did he care if she went?

"He let Alice go, though," I said. Alice was dating Jasper, and Edward never said anything about it. Edward and Jasper were friends.

"Yeah, I know. He never had a problem with Alice dating. Maybe because he was friends with Jas?"

"I don't know," I answered, no longer caring about Edward and his weird. I'd never disliked Edward, I just…never cared much either way.

"Do you think she's okay?" I asked. The doctor said stress was bad for the baby. With everything going on with Alice, and now with Edward pulling his little flip out, I really needed Bella to take care of herself.

Emmett reached across the console and stroked my knee.

"She's fine, Rose. Stop worrying."

Ha.

My dreams were so close I could taste them.

And he's telling me not to worry.

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When we got home I went into my office to work. Em sat at the dining room table, grading the latest batch of sophomore English papers. I loved the incongruity of the man. English teacher. Wrestling coach. Teddy bear. Intimidator. There was no one else like him, no one who could understand my mood by the color of my eyes, who could twist my temper into laughter before I even knew I was mad. Once in a while, I could feel him handling me, easing me off of a dark mood, a harsh word, but usually, it was just…effortless. He would stroke my cheek or grab my boobs or squeeze my ass or throw a wadded up candy wrapper, which would get caught in my hair. He was safe, he kept me safe. He understood me and he loved me anyway. At my worst, he loved me.

He was the only man to ever see me cry.

My musing quickly evaporated as I clicked open Firefox and started making the rounds at all of my regular websites. Three were women who were serving as surrogates. I was grateful to them for sharing their stories, knowing that their honesty was helping me try to understand Bella a little bit better. I couldn't help but feel that she wasn't being completely honest about her motivations, but when I probed at that feeling, my stomach turned, like I was poking into a wet, open wound.

I moved on then blogs by women who were in their own surrogate situation. Three of the women were happy, complacent, almost never voicing doubts about the future of their child. The fourth though, she was easier to understand. Her posts were filled with what-if scenarios. There were pages of legal information and articles on the rights of the genetic parents versus the rights of the surrogate. She outlined all of the things that could possibly go wrong. I settled down into my chair and felt the tension that had been building between my shoulder blades ebb. It soothed me, knowing what the worst could be, planning how to fight it.

I couldn't claim to understand Bella or her reasons. I was grateful, God, I was so grateful. But I didn't understand.

I thought about that day, pouring over applications, Bella helping me to devise a system for scoring the potential surrogates, and all I could think about was how could I let a stranger have my baby for me? How could I trust anyone that much?

We reviewed the applications again. The first one was overweight and therefore not the best risk. The second lived in Medford, Oregon, and that was more of a distance I was comfortable with. The third had never had a successful pregnancy and the fourth had three small children at home, which meant her prospects for getting optimal rest were dim. I pushed the applications away in a pile. I knew I was being too demanding. I knew that this was the only way we could have a baby of our own.

I knew I was irrational for even wanting that.

I knew I would forever feel broken if I didn't have it.

I was spiraling down, wrapping myself up in my thoughts and edging toward the dark places inside of me when I felt Bella's hand on my shoulder. Her touch was like her: meek and tentative.

"Rose?"

"I'm sorry, Bella. It's just…it gets overwhelming, you know?"

"Yeah. It looks like it. Uhm…." Her voice trailed off until I turned to look up at her. She was twisting her hands together and chewing her lip like she was sixteen again.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I…I was thinking that maybe, I mean, if it wouldn't be weird for you? If maybe I could, you know, for you. But, I mean, god, I just-"

"Bella? Are you having an aneurism?"

She laughed, relaxing. "I'll be your surrogate. If you want me to."

I felt my jaw drop. I mean, I literally felt my jaw hang open in shock. This was…this was too perfect. I closed my mouth and looked her over.

She was a little thin – I'd want her to gain some weight. But overall, she seemed to be in decent shape.

"Why would you do this?" I asked.

"I've been thinking about this Rose, and, you and Emmett, you're like family. I would do it for a sister in a heartbeat, and I know we're not close like that, but, well, I've always felt close to Emmett and I think it would be easier for you both if you know the person and well…." She turned her eyes to the table, the classic Bella blush coloring her face a hot, bright red. "It's not like I'm using it for anything else." Her last words were almost a whisper, and admission of something I already knew. Miss Bella had not gotten laid in a very long time.

"Things didn't work out with Alec?"

Bella groaned. "God, no. He was a nice guy, just too…emo for me."

"Alec was emo?"

"Ugh, you have no idea." I smiled at that, and then my smile fell.

"Bella, are you serious?"

She nodded.

"I looked into a little. We'll have to…synch up our cycles and there's a lot of tests and stuff that I'll have to do. Some shots, I read. But Rose, this is…this is something important and I can give it to you, and I want to. Will you let me? Will you think about it?"

And I did. I talked with Emmett, and I did research and when we met for the last time before we met with the doctor, I asked her again if she was sure. She and Emmett both promised me that she was, so I said okay, and I said thank you, but to this day? I still don't know why she wanted to do it.

That frightened me. I understood that I didn't necessarily need to know why she wanted to do this, but I needed her to understand why she was doing it.

After about forty minutes, I heard the music begin drifting in from the next room. Pet Sounds, Em's favorite. All those papers must be graded, I thought, closing the screen on my laptop. Em hated it when I looked at this stuff, but he understood that I needed it. I needed to know what to expect. I needed to be prepared.

I thought about wandering out to the living room, but before I could, I felt his hands tug at the back of my chair.

"Have you sufficiently freaked yourself out enough for one night?" he asked, his fingers weaving into my hair, rubbing my scalp.

I sighed and pressed myself into his hands. "I think I'm good," I answered.

"In that case," he said, then spun the chair around. He leaned in and kissed the tip of my nose, then pressed his forehead against mine. "I need to see you in the living room."

I grinned up at him and let him ease me out of the chair and lead me into the living room. He'd already pushed the coffee table aside, clearing the center of the room for us to dance. This could only mean one thing, and I gave him a wide grin, knowing exactly what was coming.

"Mrs. McCarty, may I have this dance?"

"With pleasure, Mr. McCarty." I folded my hand into his and drew close, feeling his arm wrap around my back, the warmth radiating out from his skin, imbuing me with his calm certainty. Everything always worked out for Emmett because Emmett believed everything always would. If he wanted something, he simply saw to it that he had it. I loved that about him, even though I fought it, every step of the way.

I leaned my head against his shoulder and listened to his hum. Wouldn't it be Nice was playing, our song, and he pressed against me and I felt safe. The tension of the day, of the entire situation fell away as I let him wrap me up in his arms, felt his kiss at the top of my head. At the chorus he twirled me out for a spin, then brought me back in close, cupping my face to his, pressing his mouth to mine.

"You ready?" he asked.

I nodded, grinning up at him, and he flicked the remote, shifting the music from our song to the Killers, the music pumping louder now. He let go of me and I fell into the music, letting it wash over me as I danced away the day. He joined me, goofing the most ridiculous moves, and looking even sillier given his size. We bumped and swayed, jumped and jerked, and by the time the next three tracks were through, we lay exhausted, panting and giggling on the floor.

I rolled onto him, tucking myself into his side and he pulled me closer with one big arm. I loved how small he could make me feel, like a tiny little thing, even though I towered over most of the women I knew.

I couldn't wait to see what our baby would look like. I hoped he would have Emmett's smile and his dimples and his eyes. I hoped he'd have Emmett's dark hair and I prayed to a god I didn't even believe in that he would have Emmett's calm, Emmett's sweetness. I hoped our baby got my feet, because Emmett's were fugly, and I really hoped he got my skin tone, because Emmett was too pale, and I tan beautifully.

I want my baby to have everything – every good thing in the world. And while I know I can't protect him for every bad thing, I know for certain that I'm going to try. It's what a mother does.

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This is some EmPov that I wrote, back when I was thinking of doing the story in third person in order to incorporate other points of view besides Bella's. It takes place just after Emmett and Rosalie find out that they can't have children.

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The trip home from the doctor's office was marked not by silence but by how awful, how god damned normal the conversation was.

"I heard Jasper saying your boys might make State this year."

"Yeah, I've got a couple of lookers this year. We're going to own Regionals."

"Oh, Esme wants to know if we're free for dinner next week. I told her any night but Wednesday. Doesn't the team have a meet then?"

"Yeah, we do. At least we're home for it. Esme's - is it someone's birthday?"

"No, I think she just misses having a houseful, you know?"

"Sure, sure."

And on and on it went, both of them blathering and neither of them saying anything. Not really.

Emmett sighed and thought maybe they'd talk about it later in bed. Or maybe she just needed a day to work through it. Fuck, maybe they both did.

When they walked into the house, Rosalie dropped her purse on the kitchen counter and kicked off her shoes. She stood for a moment, hands gripping the tile and Emmett wanted more than anything to take her up, into his arms and hold her until all of the bad stuff just went away.

"Look," she said and brought her eyes level with his. She paused for a moment, then pulled her shoulders back a half inch and stood a little straighter on her spine. Oh, shit. This was gonna be bad.

"This isn't – you didn't sign on for this, I know that. You don't have to stick for this," she said. Then turned away before she could see his reaction.

"I don't have to stick?" he asked, fingering the gold band on his ring finger with his thumb. Habit he'd picked up years ago. She turned back around, and he saw she'd completely shut down. No read at all.

"You know what, Rose? Fuck you." He always knew she could be cold and hard, but he'd never been on the receiving end like this before.

"I'm trying to be reasonable," she said. Yeah, like reason was operating here. "You don't deserve this. You deserve-"

"I deserve a wife who has a little bit of fucking faith in me. After eleven years? That's what I deserve." He turned and headed for the front door, picking his wallet and keys up from the table as he went.

Through his anger, he noticed that she hadn't called out to him as he left.

Emmett drove through town, the anger like a slick red balloon in his stomach, inflating and pushing until it was all he could feel. He wanted to hit something so hard it broke. He wanted to drink until he couldn't remember her name, or why the fuck they were in this god awful mess to begin with. He wanted to crawl into her arms, until she ran her fingers through his hair and hummed, making everything okay.

He thought about driving by Jasper and Alice's place, but going to the brother when you've just walked out on the sister was probably not the best idea in the world. For the tenth time that month he cursed Edward for leaving. Guy'd been his best friend his entire life, goes to school out in LA and then one summer just disappears. Took some job offer in fucking Italy and just like that, Edward Cullen was gone from their lives. Sure, he turned up now and then, the occasional Christmas, or Fourth of July. But as Emmett toyed with the idea of calling the fucker up, just to have someone he could be properly pissed at, he realized that he didn't have Edward's phone number in his cell phone. Hell, he probably needed an international calling plan to reach him. Emmett punched the steering wheel, realizing that his best friend…wasn't.

"Motherfucker," he said, words puffing white into the cold air. He thought about going to the Crow's Nest and just getting fucked up. Tyler took over the place when his old man had a heart attack, and Emmett knew that if he got too lit, Tyler'd drag his sorry ass home come closing time.

As Emmett slugged back what he hoped would be the first of many shots, Rosalie's words filled his mind. You don't have to stick for this. Like he was some kind of asshole who would bail on his wife because of that. You don't have to stick for this. Like he didn't love her so much he ached, even when she was there in the room. You don't have to stick for this. Like he wasn't man enough to be there for her when she needed him.

The last thing Emmett remembered of that night was Charlie Swan putting him to bed on Charlie's pull-out sofa.

It took Rose two days to call him. It took her five to say she was sorry. He didn't know if she'd ever understood why what she'd said hurt him. He didn't know if she'd ever understood that all he needed – truly needed in this world – was her. He knew he'd always try to make her see that, for as long as she would let him.

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I know, I promised some Carlisle and you got these two instead. Apologies – it's coming. I just want to say thank you, again, for all of the kind words, from all of you. You have no idea how much it's meant to me.