(On Hiatus for Rewriting ) Tuca and Bertie: The Sagas of Bertie and Muriel

Past Disclosed

"Bertie, we've been together for five years, come on." Speckle exclaimed, tossing his hands up in frustration as he fell back on the couch. "The past is the past, you should just leave it there! You said you wanted to start a family with me, that you wanted to be a mom." He took a deep breath and softened his tone. He shifted his position to face her, fingers tapping on his knee as he thought over what he could say to let her know he cared about her, but also was annoyed that every time he suggested they progress to the next level in their relationship, he was told 'no'.

"Bertie, listen, just because your parents weren't the best, it doesn't mean that you'll be like them.You would be a good mother, and it's not like you'd be doing it alone."

Her eyes darted to his hands, afraid he would hit her. She knew the fear was unfounded since he had never done such a thing, but there's a first for everything. She warily watched his movements while taking in what he had to say.

His words didn't bring any reassurance, only a wave of frustration and self-loathing.
"You think I don't want to? Speckle you just don't understand!" She balled the hem of her shirt, practically strangling the fabric as her thoughts raced; fragmented memories flashing before her eyes. She swallowed down her panic, fighting to maintain composure while simultaneously hoping her eyes would betray her fear to him.

"I want to, but every time I think of you and me doing that —." She quickly changed what she was saying. "Do you think I like being this way? Anxious and scared all the time?" Her voice cracked, and her throat tightened as she suppressed the tears that threatened to fall, like she'd learned to do ever since she was little. Tears in front of others wasn't happy, it wasn't being cheerful, and therefore went against the most important lesson her parents taught her: Always be happy, never be negative.

"We can at least try, what harm is there in getting the mood set and just — well, going for it?"

She looked away from him. "I can't. I just can't. It's too..." She searched for the correct word. "Dirty."

— —

Speckle let out a sound of exasperation and threw his hands up in the air. How could she think that having sex was dirty? She wasn't of any religion, she had told him she wasn't. "I give up, we'll never have kids at this rate." With a sigh, he ran a hand over his head feathers and checked his watch, then reached to hold her hands, wanting to show her he was trying to be patient. "I need to leave for work, I'll see you tonight, okay?"

— —

Bertie just nodded and smiled, kissing his cheek, like she always did when he left. The door clicked shut, and she let the tears and sobs come.
She could never admit to Speckle what was bothering her, how she hated herself, that she thought of herself as dirty and unworthy of his love. If he knew about the things that made her feel this way, then he'd think the same.

The Silence he left behind was too loud, so she picked up her phone from the coffee table, for something to listen to. She put in the earbuds and closed her eyes, leaning back on the couch.
The first songs droned by. They didn't interest her. Then one of the rock songs caught her attention, the lyrics resonating with her.

'But you still make me feel like a thief
You got me stealin' your love away.

Oh, I've got to set myself free

And that's just how it's got to be
I know it hurts to say goodbye
But it's time for me to fly'

Maybe the lyrics were right, maybe it was time to fly. Maybe, it would be better for both of them if she left.
She knew she couldn't make him happy in the long term. His life would be miserable, bogged down by her problems, their relationship would end, and it'd be too late for him to find someone better.