By any other name

[1]

Rosalie Hale watched the cigarette burn to its filter without taking a drag. It was an outrageous waste of nicotine, but she wasn't smoking to cater an addiction. It was a distraction although not a very good one and much too expensive besides. She desperately needed better hobbies.

She dropped her cigarette and crushed it beneath her heel. From her purse, she produced some gum to chew on and perfume. It wouldn't mask the smell well, or at all, but it was the thought that counted.

Her mother wouldn't touch the topic if Rosalie gave the slightest hint that it wasn't her business. Jean-Claude Ellena's Hermès Hermessence Brin de Reglisse was the hefty two-hundred dollar hint.

Rosalie went to the front of the house where her mother, Laila, was fussing with the boot of their car. Probably trying to magic Rosalie's packed suitcase into the miniscule space.

"Rose, is that you?"

She must have heard her footsteps. "Yeah. Where's Hank?"

"Your step-father," Laila emphasized pointedly, "is locking everything up inside. Can you help me with this? You have so many clothes!"

And more stuffed into her closet. Rosalie sniffed as she stood beside Laila, the duo struggling to maneuver the suitcase on an angle that would allow it to slide in. It took some encouragement from Rosalie's shoulder before their problem was solved. Laila sighed tiredly, wiping sweat from her forehead with a handkerchief.

"Maybe we need a bigger car," Laila mused. Her nose wrinkled as she caught a whiff of the tobacco on Rosalie's clothes, but predictably she didn't mention it. "All ready? Are you taking carry-on luggage?"

Rosalie lifted the purse on her shoulder. "Right here, mom."

"Have you eaten?"

"Some toast."

"And water, did you drink some water?"

"I had coffee this morning."

Laila pursed her lips. "Well, that will have to do. Your father knows when you'll land, yes? You emailed him?"

Her mother was never usually so… neurotic. Ever since January, she'd hated letting Rosalie out of her sight. It killed her to let her only child fly across the country without her supervision, but unless she wanted to waste three hundred bucks to visit Washington as well, there wasn't much to be done. She'd have to deal with it.

"Mom," Rosalie placed her hand on Laila's shoulder. The woman shuddered at the contact, her own hand hovering around Rosalie's wrist. Close, waiting for permission that wasn't coming. "I'll call when I land."

"You'd better," Laila said, sniffling. They stood there for a long moment; Rosalie found it comforting, even if the nearness was steadily chipping at her patience. As if she knew that, Laila pulled away, wiped her face, and huffed impatiently. "Where is Hank? How long could it take to make sure everything is turned off! Rose, wait in the car. I'm going to find him before he makes us late for your flight."

Laila stormed towards their house, affronted in ways only middle-class suburban women were capable of. Her yelling could be heard from the driveway, as well as Hank's excuses, smothered by his laughter as they were.

Rosalie listened wistfully. Perhaps she would miss this.

Before she could remind herself of why she needed to leave, she got into the backseat of the car and pulled out her music player. It was counterproductive to make herself nauseous prior to travel. She put in her earphones and turned up the volume until she could no longer think around the clattering noise of symbols and electric guitars.

Nathan Hale waited outside the airport, leaning on the side of a standard police cruiser. Painted on the side were the words FORKS POLICE, chipped from neglect but not worn in the way of cars that were actually used. She supposed tiny Forks didn't see much action.

He didn't smile when he saw her. Rosalie inherited his poker face. The only way to tell her was glad was the slack in his blond beard. "Hey, sweetie."

Rosalie's shoulders tightened. "Don't call me that," She told him without pause, throwing her suitcase into the front seat. Nathan sat behind the wheel silently. He paused when Rosalie took the back seat.

"Don't wanna sit next to your old man?" He asked.

Rosalie worked her jaw. "Mom didn't tell you?"

"She told me some things."

"Then I'm not explaining it to you again,"

Nathan clicked his tongue. "Gotcha." He put the car into gear and pulled them out of the waiting bay. He couldn't quite mask the sarcasm, nor the hurt; Rosalie couldn't find it in herself to care. There was no guilt. The drive to his house was in reluctant silence. Whenever Nathan tried to talk, he found his efforts thwarted by Rosalie's frosted replies, until eventually he ran out of patience.

Pulling into the driveway of his two-story house was a relief beyond words. Rosalie grabbed her suitcase and leapt from the car. Nathan followed hastily. "Your room—"

"I remember where it is," She cut him off. The door was unlocked — poor security for the Sheriff — and she climbed the stairs two at a time. Her room was in the back corner. It looked exactly as she'd left it, pink enough to burn her eyes. At least her father removed the princess memorabilia.

She was checking the door handle as Nathan made it upstairs. He seemed slightly out of breath. "I need a lock," She told him immediately. When he simply stared, she repeated herself, adding, "I won't be able to sleep unless I have one."

He put his hands on his hips and sighed. "Yeah, I hear you. Now?"

"As soon as possible." She said, meaning: Yes, now.

Nathan nodded. "We'll stop by the store. We can buy more stuff for your room as well. I would've spruced it up myself if I knew what you were interested in. Still wanna be an actress?"

"No."

He didn't seemed surprised. "Okay, figured. I have some friends dropping by to say hello. The Clearwaters, you remember them? You and Leah used to be friends."

Rosalie remembered. Her parents divorced when she was four, but she made biannual visits home until she was eight. Every time she was in Forks, she stopped by the Clearwater home. Harry Clearwater used to let her watch whenever his truck needed tinkering. His daughter, Leah, was her best friend.

"The truck man," Rosalie mused. Nathan's face brightened at the first sign of softness she'd shown all day. "When will they get here?"

"An hour?"

"Enough time to go to the store."

"Sure," Nathan said. He didn't seem as tense. Perhaps he saw her reaction to the Clearwaters as an olive branch. "Hey, you have your license, right? Wanna drive us?"

The Clearwater's arrived as Rosalie was installing her brand new lock. She heard Nathan telling them all what she was up to and hand out cups of tea and coffee. Rosalie wiped her sweat away using her collar, finishing up on the screws.

She heard someone coming up the stairs and flicked her eyes up: at the top was a girl her age wearing a blue tank top and shorts. Leah Clearwater's face was sharp, her short hairstyle complimenting the natural predatory angles of it. Her smirk alone was a dare. Even as children, it had taunted Rosalie. Most of their competitions started because Rosalie hadn't liked the look in Leah's eyes.

The look was somewhat dulled, smothered by something much more flinty. Rosalie recognized it instantly.

Leah raised her eyebrow and forgoed a greeting. "You're wearing makeup?"

"Hi Lee," replied Rosalie. "Long time no see."

Leah rolled her eyes, unbothered by the attitude. She came over to crouch beside Rosalie, squinting at the lock. "I thought you didn't like makeup."

"I was seven. The only thing I liked on my face was mud and grease."

"And oil. You loved oil," Leah helpfully added. Rosalie sighed through her nose. Her childhood friend turned to her with a wolfish grin. "You look like shit, Rosie. If mom sees you she won't be able to stop herself from feeding you."

Rosalie lied easily. "New diet. I'm trying to fit into better clothes. I'm happy it's working."

"You're all skin and bone: I'd say whatever you're doing is exceeding expectations." It was said teasingly, yet Leah didn't seem to take offense when Rosalie barely cracked a smile. "You are here to stay, right?"

"Until graduation at least."

"Homeschool or high school?"

Rosalie's lips thinned. "High school." She'd fought with her mom for weeks for that much. "Are you still on the reservation?"

"No other place to go," said Leah. She wasn't upset. Granted, she didn't have any reason to be. The reservation was perfect for the children of her tribe, offering rich education in academia and the personal history of their people. Leah watched quietly as Rosalie tightened the last screw, stayed like that as Rosalie tested it, then said: "You okay?"

Rosalie didn't respond.

Quietly, Leah said, "Your dad told us."

Anger boiled in Rosalie's stomach. She narrowed her eyes at the other girl, who shrugged like she understood Nathan had no right but couldn't exactly unhear the information. "How much do you know?" Her voice was like ice.

"Whatever he knows. Do you really wanna hash it out?"

No, Rosalie didn't. That was why she was in this pathetic rainy town — so she didn't have to 'hash it out', so she could walk down the streets and not be stared after by the pitying or accusing eyes of people who didn't have a clue what she went through. Nathan was doing his best to make that into an unattainable dream.

Rosalie slammed her door. Neither girl flinched, which she was slightly disappointed by. "I'm doing great."

"If you say so."

"I say so."

"Alright, jeez, prissy. Hurry up downstairs, mom and dad are excited to see you. Nathan has been telling them how pretty you've gotten, you know, they have high expectations," Leah pitched her voice innocently. "They are going to be so disappointed."

The blonde snorted. Two sides of her brain warred with each other. It was going to be rough, walking into a room knowing that everyone there knew: it would poke at her constantly until it grew to be unbearably suffocating and she ended up escaping. On the other hand, she missed Harry and Sue. They were always good to her. Rosalie would not forgive herself if she didn't at least say hello.

Leah relaxed now that she was victorious. There was still something tough in her eyes that Rosalie couldn't help being curious about, but she wasn't going to pry. It ultimately didn't matter: Leah's business was hers.

And so, Rosalie dogged Leah down the stairway. Harry and Sue at with their backs to her, familiar even though she saw gray hairs now. Their voices, too, filled her with nostalgia. Calm and low and welcoming. It had been so long.

"Found her!" Leah announced, stuffing her hands in her pockets. She flopped on the sofa beside a smaller teenage boy — her younger brother, Seth, who flipped around like an enthusiastic puppy and yelled, "Rosie!"

"Rosalie!" Harry sounded exactly like his son. Sue leapt to her feet and walked towards Rosalie with her arms wide open. The girl ground her teeth as she accepted the hug. It was warm, sure, but restricting. Too claustrophobic.

She carefully didn't push Sue away. Luckily, the hug didn't go on for long, and Sue stepped back, beaming. The expression was flattering on her: it seemed Sue Clearwater was as handsome as ever.

"Aren't you just beautiful?" Sue murmured approvingly. "And so tall. You could be a model, why wear high heels when you are already taller than everyone here?"

"To kick people, mostly," Rosalie said wryly. Sue harrumphed jokingly while her husband laughed. "Hi, Sue. It's good to see you."

"Isn't it? You know, I think you have to come over for dinner. You're too skinny."

Rosalie looked over Sue's shoulder where Leah was smirking. Told ya, she mouthed. "Definitely."

"Oh, and Harry brought over something for you! Nathan, can we — " Nathan grinned, which Sue excitedly took for permission. Rosalie checked everyone's expression for a hint of what the hell was going on: it was entirely smugness and conspiratory glances. Cool, so that told her absolutely nothing.

Harry heaved onto his feet. "It's out the front."

Rosalie frowned. "What is it?"

"It's a surprise," said Seth. "Do you like surprises?"

Her silence indicated no. Leah groaned much louder than necessary. "Lighten up, princess! Just go outside!"

"Shut up," Rosalie told her before following Sue and Harry to the door. She heard everyone else getting up as well. Were they expecting some kind of reaction from her? Rosalie resisted the urge to fidget, feeling like ants were crawling on her skin. She hated walking into situations she didn't have references for.

But when they all ended up on the porch, Harry went towards one of the three trucks. Nathan's cruiser, one white sudan, and one rust-bucket of a pickup truck. Copper red and clinging to vestiges of life.

When Harry smacked the hood of the truck Rosalie half-expected it to crumble into dust. "This old girl here is Claudine. You still into fixing cars, Rosalie?"

Realization dawned several seconds too late. Holy shit. "That's mine?" Rosalie gasped, running to the truck. Sue and Seth started laughing as she stroked the left door. It didn't even have a window. "What the — Harry?!"

"A friend gave her to me to fix when she broke down. It's been waiting for me to have enough free time, but when your dad told me you were moving over, I knew you would get more outta the experience than an old fella like me. You up to the challenge?"

Rosalie draped herself over the hood. "Can I start her up?"

"I don't think she can," Harry huffed. Rosalie bit her lip to stop the squeal. It was a lot to work with. She couldn't remember being this excited in months. For the first time moving back in with her dad didn't have a noose hiding in the shadows. Laila let her go to car shows and stop by the local mechanic to watch, but it was never a skill Rosalie was allowed to cultivate. Rosalie was encouraged to favor her more ladylike interests. Makeup and dressing up were things that interested Rosalie, sure, but neither hobbies held a candle to engineering.

Rosalie straightened, keeping one loving hand on the truck. "You might need to help me, Harry."

"Call if you're stuck," He told her warmly. "Leah and Seth have no interest. It's a relief for one of my kids to get into the profession."

Rosalie stopped breathing.

"Come on, Harry, stop stealing my kid," Nathan joked. "She only just moved in and you're making moves?"

"I'd love another sister."

Leah smacked her brother around the back of his head, hissing something scathing.

Harry smiled at Rosalie when he caught her bewildered stare. All these years apart and he considered her family? Rosalie was stunned by how much it meant to hear it. Not only that, but to be standing in front of proof. However the relationship between her and Nathan developed, it was relieving to know Harry was on her side, too.

Rosalie looked at her feet, choked up and hating it. "Thank you."

Harry put his hand on the hood close to hers. He tapped his fingers so she could feel the vibration across the metal. It was fall in Forks but Harry's proximity and the sincerity of his actions seemed to burn away at the chill.

"It is good to have you home, Rosie."

The words were not a death sentence.

Notes:

Obviously this is an AU so don't call the OOC police. Period typical attitudes have been flipped and the backstories are slightly different. Yay.