Disclaimer: Eclipse and the Twilight Saga do not belong to me! Note: This chapter will contain material from Eclipse, which I am only borrowing – so please, please don't sue!

A/N (Original): Okay, this will just be a short fanfic (short, meaning only a few chapters long) which will contain Rosalie/Bella sisterly bonding. Now, fair warning, this story will contain rape and abuse. So, that being said, please do not read this if it will negatively impact you in any way. Anyways, this takes place during Eclipse when Rosalie goes to talk to Bella. Also, in my version, Edward won't be home for several days and there will be no school either! Hope you enjoy everyone! – In case you didn't read the disclaimer, this chapter will contain original material from Eclipse.

A/N: This story was originally written by A Thousand Undiscovered Stars.

Edited: March 30, 2014

Word Count: 5570

Empathizing

Chapter One: Similar Stories

Bella's Point of View

I sighed as I lay on the couch in Edward's room. In the dark, the glass wall was no longer a black mirror, doubling the room. The light of the moon brightened the clouds outside the window. As my eyes adjusted, I could see the diffused glow highlighting the tops of the trees, and glinting off a small slice of the river. I watched the silver light, waiting for my eyes to get heavy. Sleep would not come easily tonight – the memories were particularly strong this evening.

There was a light knock on the door.

"What, Alice?" I hissed. I was on the defensive, imagining her amusement when she saw my makeshift bed.

"It's me," Rosalie said softly, opening the door enough that I could see the silver glow touch her perfect face. "Can I come in?"

Rosalie hesitated in the doorway, her breathtaking face unsure.

"Of course," I replied, my voice an octave high with surprise. "Come on in."

I sat up, sliding to the end of the sofa to make room. My stomach twisted nervously as the one Cullen who did not like me moved silently to sit down in the open space.

I tried to come up with a reason why she would want to see me, but my mind was a blank on that point. It was so unusual that I couldn't fathom what could possibly have caused Rosalie to come to me tonight, looking almost… afraid.

"Do you mind talking to me for a few minutes?" she asked. "I didn't wake you or anything, did I?" Her eyes shifted to the stripped bed and back to my couch. I could see that she wondered but she didn't ask and for that I was grateful.

"No, I was awake. Sure, we can talk." I wondered if she could hear the alarm in my voice as clearly as I could.

She laughed lightly, and it sounded like a chorus of bells. "He so rarely leaves you alone," she said. "I figured I'd better make the best of this opportunity."

What did she want to say that couldn't be said in front of Edward? My hands twisted and untwisted around the edge of the comforter.

"Please don't think I'm horribly interfering," Rosalie said, her voice gentle and almost pleading. She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them as she spoke. "I'm sure I've hurt your feelings enough in the past, and I don't want to do that again."

I shook my head. I've endured far worse than hurt feelings… "Don't worry about it, Rosalie. My feelings are great. What is it?"

She laughed again, sounding oddly embarrassed. "I'm going to try to tell you why I think you should stay human - why I would stay human if I were you."

"Oh."

She smiled at the shocked tone of my voice, and then she sighed.

"Did Edward ever tell you what led to this?" she asked, gesturing to her glorious immortal body.

I nodded slowly, suddenly somber. "He said it was close to what happened to me that time in Port Angeles, only no one was there to save you ." If only he had been there to save me that first time. I shuddered at the memory.

"Is that really all he told you?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, my voice blank with confusion. "Was there more?"

She looked up at me and smiled; it was a harsh, bitter - but still stunning - expression.

"Yes," she said. "There was more."

I waited while she stared out the window. She seemed to be trying to calm herself.

"Would you like to hear my story, Bella? It doesn't have a happy ending - but which of ours does? If we had happy endings, we'd all be under gravestones now."

I nodded. Even if she wouldn't believe it, I agreed with her on that point, though I was frightened by the edge in her voice.

"I lived in a different world than you do, Bella. My human world was a much simpler place. It was nineteen thirty-three. I was eighteen, and I was beautiful. My life was perfect."

She stared out the window at the silver clouds, her expression far away.

"My parents were thoroughly middle class. My father had a stable job in a bank, something I realize now that he was smug about - he saw his prosperity as a reward for talent and hard work, rather than acknowledging the luck involved. I took it all for granted then; in my home, it was as if the Great Depression was only a troublesome rumor. Of course I saw the poor people, the ones who weren't as lucky. My father left me with the impression that they'd brought their troubles on themselves."

"It was my mother's job to keep our house - and myself and my two younger brothers - in spotless order. It was clear that I was both her first priority and her favorite. I didn't fully understand at the time, but I was always vaguely aware that my parents weren't satisfied with what they had, even if it was so much more than most. They wanted more. They had social aspirations - social climbers, I suppose you could call them. My beauty was like a gift to them. They saw so much more potential in it than I did."

I had to restrain a shudder. I knew just how very troublesome it could be to be found attractive to a man and that was why I could never envy Rosalie's beauty – I had already paid the price for my own. Yes, I knew that I was beautiful. I didn't brush off the compliments because I didn't believe them—I brushed them off because I really, really just didn't want to hear them.

"They weren't satisfied, but I was. I was thrilled to be me, to be Rosalie Hale. Pleased that men's eyes watched me everywhere I went, from the year I turned twelve. Delighted that my girlfriends sighed with envy when they touched my hair. Happy that my mother was proud of me and that my father liked to buy me pretty dresses."

"I knew what I wanted out of life, and there didn't seem to be any way that I wouldn't get exactly what I wanted. I wanted to be loved, to be adored. I wanted to have a huge, flowery wedding, where everyone in town would watch me walk down the aisle on my father's arm and think I was the most beautiful thing they'd ever seen. Admiration was like air to me, Bella. I was silly and shallow, but I was content." She smiled, amused at her own evaluation.

"My parents' influence had been such that I also wanted the material things of life. I wanted a big house with elegant furnishings that someone else would clean and a modern kitchen that someone else would cook in. As I said, shallow. Young and very shallow. And I didn't see any reason why I wouldn't get these things."

"There were a few things I wanted that were more meaningful. One thing in particular. My very closest friend was a girl named Vera. She married young, just seventeen. She married a man my parents would never have considered for me - a carpenter. A year later she had a son, a beautiful little boy with dimples and curly black hair.

It was the first time I'd ever felt truly jealous of anyone else in my entire life."

She looked at me with unfathomable eyes. "It was a different time. I was the same age as you, but I was ready for it all. I yearned for my own little baby. I wanted my own house and a husband who would kiss me when he got home from work - just like Vera. Only I had a very different kind of house in mind. . . ."

It was hard for me to imagine the world that Rosalie had known. Her story sounded more like a fairy tale than history to me. With a slight shock, I realized that this was very close to the world that Edward would have experienced when he was human, the world he had grown up in. I wondered - while Rosalie sat silent for a moment - if my world seemed as baffling to him as Rosalie's did to me. Perhaps not quite, I conceded. Not unless he had endured what I had and could not even begin to conjure the picture of such happy perfection in his mind.

Rosalie sighed, and when she spoke again her voice was different, the wistfulness gone.

"In Rochester, there was one royal family - the Kings, ironically enough. Royce King owned the bank my father worked at, and nearly every other really profitable business in town. That's how his son, Royce King the Second" - her mouth twisted around the name, it came out through her teeth - "saw me the first time. He was going to take over at the bank, and so he began overseeing the different positions. Two days later, my mother conveniently forgot to send my father's lunch to work with him. I remember being confused when she insisted that I wear my white organza and roll my hair up just to run over to the bank." Rosalie laughed without humor. It was a sound I recognized, and I froze as I heard it. No.

"I didn't notice Royce watching me particularly. Everyone watched me. But that night the first of the roses came. Every night of our courtship, he sent a bouquet of roses to me. My room was always overflowing with them. It got to the point that I would smell like roses when I left the house." No. I had a very bad feeling about this, and the memories were stirring from their dark corners like snakes in a depthless pit.

"Royce was handsome, too. He had lighter hair than I did, and pale blue eyes. He said my eyes were like violets, and then those started showing up alongside the roses." I swallowed, struggling to hide my disgust. Oh, how I hated the flowers…

"My parents approved - that's putting it mildly. This was everything they'd dreamed of. And Royce seemed to be everything I'd dreamed of. The fairy tale prince, come to make me a princess. Everything I wanted, yet it was still no more than I expected. We were engaged before I'd known him for two months."

"We didn't spend a great deal of time alone with each other. Royce told me he had many responsibilities at work, and, when we were together, he liked people to look at us, to see me on his arm. I liked that, too. There were lots of parties, dancing, and pretty dresses. When you were a King, every door was open for you, every red carpet rolled out to greet you."

"It wasn't a long engagement. Plans went ahead for the most lavish wedding. It was going to be everything I'd ever wanted. I was completely happy. When I called at Vera's, I no longer felt jealous. I pictured my fair-haired children playing on the huge lawns of the Kings' estate, and I pitied her."

Rosalie broke off suddenly, clenching her teeth together. It pulled me out of her story, and I realized that the horror was not far off. There would be no happy ending, as she'd promised. I wondered if this was why she had so much more bitterness in her than the rest of them - because she'd been within reach of everything she'd wanted when her human life was cut short. Yet a voice deep within me whispered that I knew exactly why she was so bitter. It was the same reason that I hid behind all my insecurities, the very foundation of my fears. I bit my tongue to keep still.

"I was at Vera's that night," Rosalie whispered. Her face was smooth as marble, and as hard." No, no, no. Please, not her, too…

"Her little Henry really was adorable, all smiles and dimples - he was just sitting up on his own. Vera walked me to the door as I was leaving, her baby in her arms and her husband at her side, his arm around her waist. He kissed her on the cheek when he thought I wasn't looking. That bothered me. When Royce kissed me, it wasn't quite the same - not so sweet somehow. . . . I shoved that thought aside. Royce was my prince. Someday, I would be queen."

It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but it looked like her bone white face got paler. I knew that mine certainly did. The memories, those shades of horrors past, were flashing through me once more and I felt it as my breathing became unsteady.

"It was dark in the streets, the lamps already on. I hadn't realized how late it was." She continued to whisper almost inaudibly. "It was cold, too. Very cold for late April. The wedding was only a week away, and I was worrying about the weather as I hurried home - I can remember that clearly. I remember every detail about that night. I clung to it so hard . . . in the beginning. I thought of nothing else. And so I remember this, when so many pleasant memories have faded away completely. . . ."

She sighed, and began whispering again. "Yes, I was worrying about the weather. . . . I didn't want to have to move the wedding indoors. . ."

"I was a few streets from my house when I heard them. A cluster of men under a broken streetlamp, laughing too loud. Drunk. I wished I'd called my father to escort me home, but the way was so short, it seemed silly. And then he called my name." Oh, god, no… By now, all of my muscles were locked into place and I could feel my heart hammering inside my chest. I already knew what was coming. I just didn't want to face it – but I had to.

"'Rose!' he yelled, and the others laughed stupidly.

"I hadn't realized the drunks were so well dressed. It was Royce and some of his friends, sons of other rich men.

"'Here's my Rose!' Royce shouted, laughing with them, sounding just as stupid. 'You're late. We're cold, you've kept us waiting so long.'"

I wanted to scoff and cry at the same time. Of course. They always thought they were invincible, and they were, as long as they were strong enough to hurt those weaker than them. And that almost made it hurt more, knowing that there was nothing you could do to stop it, nothing you could do to stop them.

"I'd never seen him drink before. A toast, now and then, at a party. He'd told me he didn't like champagne. I hadn't realized that he preferred something much stronger." I had to contain a bitter laugh. Yes, I knew all too well how some men preferred things so very strong. I knew all too well…

"He had a new friend - the friend of a friend, come up from Atlanta.

"'What did I tell you, John,' Royce crowed, grabbing my arm and pulling me closer. 'Isn't she lovelier than all your Georgia peaches?'

"The man named John was dark-haired and suntanned. He looked me over like I was a horse he was buying.

"'It's hard to tell,' he drawled slowly. 'She's all covered up.'

"They laughed, Royce like the rest. Suddenly, Royce ripped my jacket from my shoulders - it was a gift from him - popping the brass buttons off. They scattered all over the street.

"'Show him what you look like, Rose!' He laughed again and then he tore my hat out of my hair. The pins wrenched my hair from the roots, and I cried out in pain. They seemed to enjoy that - the sound of my pain. . . ."

Yes…how they loved to hear it… What fun was it for a sadist to inflict pain, if they couldn't hear it, if they couldn't revel in it? After all, for them, that was almost better than the act itself. I shuddered, struggling to keep it together.

Rosalie looked at me suddenly, as if she'd forgotten I was there. I was sure my face was as white as hers. Unless it was green. My breathing was shallow and it took all I had to keep myself rooted in the here and now instead of lost, trapped in the phantoms of my past.

"I won't make you listen to the rest," she said quietly. I almost sighed in relief and as it was, I was about ready to get down on my knees and give thanks to Rosalie for not continuing. I'm not sure how much more I could have taken.

"They left me in the street, still laughing as they stumbled away. They thought I was dead. They were teasing Royce that he would have to find a new bride. He laughed and said he'd have to learn some patience first.

"I waited in the road to die. It was cold, though there was so much pain that I was surprised it bothered me. It started to snow, and I wondered why I wasn't dying. I was impatient for death to come, to end the pain. It was taking so long. . ." Again, I could relate. That waiting, that terrible waiting for the one sweet release promised you at the end of all the pain. You would welcome it eagerly then, but it never came. It was taken from me, cruelly, and I was bitter about that even if it didn't show.

"Carlisle found me then. He'd smelled the blood, and come to investigate. I remember being vaguely irritated as he worked over me, trying to save my life. I'd never liked Dr. Cullen or his wife and her brother - as Edward pretended to be then. It had upset me that they were all more beautiful than I was, especially that the men were. But they didn't mingle in society, so I'd only seen them once or twice.

"I thought I'd died when he pulled me from the ground and ran with me - because of the speed - it felt like I was flying. I remembered being horrified that the pain didn't stop. . ." I shuddered in earnest, now. It was so similar…

"Then I was in a bright room, and it was warm. I was slipping away, and I was grateful as the pain began to dull. But suddenly something sharp was cutting me, my throat, my wrists, my ankles. I screamed in shock, thinking he'd brought me there to hurt me more.

Then fire started burning through me, and I didn't care about anything else. I begged him to kill me.

When Esme and Edward returned home, I begged them to kill me, too. Carlisle sat with me.

He held my hand and said that he was so sorry, promising that it would end. He told me everything, and sometimes I listened. He told me what he was, what I was becoming. I didn't believe him. He apologized each time I screamed." I couldn't help but be thankful that Rosalie had someone there with her; the pain was worse when you were alone and you had nothing but the fear for company.

"Edward wasn't happy. I remember hearing them discuss me. I stopped screaming sometimes. It did no good to scream.

"'What were you thinking, Carlisle?' Edward said. 'Rosalie Hale?'" Rosalie imitated Edward's irritated tone to perfection. "I didn't like the way he said my name, like there was something wrong with me.

"'I couldn't just let her die,' Carlisle said quietly. 'It was too much - too horrible, too much waste.'

"'I know,' Edward said, and I thought he sounded dismissive. It angered me. I didn't know then that he really could see exactly what Carlisle had seen.

"'It was too much waste. I couldn't leave her,' Carlisle repeated in a whisper.

"'Of course you couldn't,' Esme agreed.

"'People die all the time,' Edward reminded him in a hard voice. 'Don't you think she's just a little recognizable, though? The Kings will have to put up a huge search - not that anyone suspects the fiend,' he growled.

"It pleased me that they seemed to know that Royce was guilty.

"I didn't realize that it was almost over - that I was getting stronger and that was why I was able to concentrate on what they were saying. The pain was beginning to fade from my fingertips.

"'What are we going to do with her?' Edward said disgustedly - or that's how it sounded to me, at least.

"Carlisle sighed. 'That's up to her, of course. She may want to go her own way.'

"I'd believed enough of what he'd told me that his words terrified me. I knew that my life was ended, and there was no going back for me. I couldn't stand the thought of being alone…

"The pain finally ended and they explained to me again what I was. This time I believed. I felt the thirst, my hard skin; I saw my brilliant red eyes.

"Shallow as I was, I felt better when I saw my reflection in the mirror the first time. Despite the eyes, I was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen." She laughed at herself for a moment.

I couldn't help the wan, yet wry, smile that flashed across my face for the briefest instant. She had taken the opposite approach to me. She had taken consolation in her beauty whereas I had learnt to abhor mine, seeking desperately to blend in and attract as little attention as I possibly could – it was safer that way, in my mind.

"It took some time before I began to blame the beauty for what had happened to me - for me to see the curse of it. To wish that I had been… well, not ugly, but normal. Like Vera. So I could have been allowed to marry someone who loved me, and have pretty babies. That's what I'd really wanted, all along. It still doesn't seem like too much to have asked for."

No, it wasn't too much…but it would never be, not for her and… I shook my head. She was thoughtful for a moment, and I wondered if she'd forgotten my presence again. But then she smiled at me, her expression suddenly triumphant.

"You know, my record is almost as clean as Carlisle's," she told me. "Better than Esme. A thousand times better than Edward. I've never tasted human blood," she announced proudly.

She understood my puzzled expression as I wondered why her record was only almost as clean. And then I figured it out. She killed a human, or humans, but she didn't drink from them.

"I did murder five humans," she told me in a complacent tone. "If you can really call them human. But I was very careful not to spill their blood - I knew I wouldn't be able to resist that, and I didn't want any part of them in me, you see." Oh, yes I saw, and I was glad that she killed them.

"I saved Royce for last. I hoped that he would hear of his friends' deaths and understand, know what was coming for him. I hoped the fear would make the end worse for him. I think it worked. He was hiding inside a windowless room behind a door as thick as a bank vault's, guarded outside by armed men, when I caught up with him. Oops - seven murders," she corrected herself. "I forgot about his guards. They only took a second."

"I was overly theatrical. It was kind of childish, really. I wore a wedding dress I'd stolen for the occasion. He screamed when he saw me. He screamed a lot that night. Saving him for last was a good idea - it made it easier for me to control myself, to make it slower -"

She broke off suddenly, and she glanced down at me. "I'm sorry," she said in a chagrined voice. "I'm frightening you, aren't I?"

"I'm fine," I lied, well half-lied. I was terrified but the only contribution to my fear that she had made was the way that her story helped rouse my own ghosts of my untold past. I was beyond glad that she had taken her revenge and made the monster suffer.

"I got carried away."

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm surprised Edward didn't tell you more about it."

"He doesn't like to tell other people's stories - he feels like he's betraying confidences, because he hears so much more than just the parts they mean for him to hear."

She smiled and shook her head. "I probably ought to give him more credit. He's really quite decent, isn't he?"

"I think so." More than I would admit.

"I can tell." Then she sighed. "I haven't been fair to you, either, Bella. Did he tell you why? Or was that too confidential?"

"He said it was because I was human. He said it was harder for you to have someone on the outside who knew." Yet, I knew that wasn't the reason. No, there was more there…

Rosalie's musical laughter interrupted me. "Now I really feel guilty. He's been much, much kinder to me than I deserve." She seemed warmer as she laughed, like she'd let down some guard that had never been absent in my presence before.

"What a liar that boy is." She laughed again.

"He was lying?" I asked, suddenly wary though not so much as I may have been before hearing her story. I was still on edge, my breathing unsteady and my heartbeat erratic.

"Well, that's probably putting it too strongly. He just didn't tell you the whole story. What he told you was true, even truer now than it was before. However, at the time . . ." She broke off, chuckling nervously. "It's embarrassing. You see, at first, I was mostly jealous because he wanted you and not me."

Her words sent a thrill of fear through me. Sitting there in the silver light, she was more beautiful than anything else I could imagine. I could not compete with Rosalie. Nor would I want to truly. As I mentioned, beauty had brought me only pain in the past.

"But you love Emmett . . . ," I mumbled.

She shook her head back and forth, amused. "I don't want Edward that way, Bella. I never did - I love him as a brother, but he's irritated me from the first moment I heard him speak. You have to understand, though . . . I was so used to people wanting me . And Edward wasn't the least bit interested. It frustrated me, even offended me in the beginning. But he never wanted anyone, so it didn't bother me long. Even when we first met Tanya's clan in Denali - all those females! - Edward never showed the slightest preference. And then he met you."

She looked at me with confused eyes. I wasn't offended but I couldn't help my expression from altering the slightest bit at the painful thought of Edward ever being with someone other than me. Though, truly, he did deserve so much more than I could ever hope to be…

"Not that you aren't pretty, Bella," she said, misreading my expression. "But it just meant that he found you more attractive than me. I'm vain enough that I minded."

"But you said 'at first.' That doesn't still . . . bother you, does it? I mean, we both know you're the most beautiful person on the planet."

I laughed at having to say the words - it was so obvious. How odd that Rosalie should need such reassurances. At least, it would have been odd, had I not now known the reason for her need.

Rosalie laughed, too. "Thanks, Bella. And no, it doesn't really bother me anymore. Edward has always been a little strange." She laughed again.

"But you still don't like me," I whispered, my voice soft as I struggled to contain the tears. I could almost hear it in the back of my mind, see it before me and I struggled to keep my focus on the now.

Her smile faded. "I'm sorry about that."

We sat in silence for a moment, and she didn't seem inclined to go on.

"Would you tell me why? Did I do something . . . ?" Was she angry that I'd put her family - her Emmett - in danger? Time and time again. James, and now Victoria . . . If only people could see that I wasn't worth the trouble that I caused. I wasn't worth any of it…

"No, you haven't done anything," she murmured. "Not yet."

I stared at her, perplexed. I clenched my teeth as I heard his voice.

You're mine, Isabella, and you always will be…

"Don't you see, Bella?" Her voice was suddenly more passionate than before, even while she'd told her unhappy story. "You already have everything . You have a whole life ahead of you - everything I want. And you're going to just throw it away. Can't you see that I'd trade everything I have to be you? You have the choice that I didn't have, and you're choosing wrong!"

I flinched back from her fierce expression. I realized my mouth had fallen open and I snapped it shut. Thankfully, however, her intensity provided the shock that I needed to bring back to where I was, here at the Cullen house with Rosalie.

She stared at me for a long moment and, slowly, the fervor in her eyes dimmed. Abruptly, she was abashed. She needn't be.

"And I was so sure that I could do this calmly." She shook her head, seeming a little dazed by the flood of emotion. "It's just that it's harder now than it was then, when it was no more than vanity."

I couldn't hold it in any longer. She had confided in me, and I could not remain silent any longer. She had trusted me with one of her darkest secrets; now, I would summon the courage to bare my own. A single tear fell trickled from the corner of my eye before being quickly followed by a rush of salty spheres.

Rosalie looked almost panicked at the sight of my tears, shock and slight remorse flickering in her honey-gold eyes. "I'm sorry, Bella. Please don't cry. I didn't mean to upset you," she apologized in a rushed voice, seemingly without even thinking about it first.

I gave a single humorless laugh, as I swallowed once and wiped the tears from my eyes, forcing the flow of water to stop from sheer instinct after having repeated the learned action so many times. "You have nothing to apologize for," I reassured her and confusion set in on her face.

"What… What do you mean 'I have nothing to apologize for'?" she questioned cautiously and I gave a sad, wry half-smile as I slowly shook my head.

"Our stories are more similar than you think, Rosalie," I said softly and she froze. Well, no going back now… I steeled myself. I was terrified at the thought of revealing my true past to anyone, but it was time. I couldn't keep hiding in the shadows for the rest of my existence.

I looked at Rosalie's frozen expression of confusion and somewhat hesitant concern. But maybe I didn't have to do it alone…

To Be Continued.

A/N (Original): Okay. There's the first chapter. Now, as I said, it won't be a long story but there will be several more chapters before the conclusion. That being said, I can't guarantee when I will have time to update but the longest that it should take me is two weeks maximum. Anyways, hope you like the story! Now, review and let me know what you think!

A/N: Not a lot of changes to this chapter, mostly just some details added in here and there. Let me know what you think!

~Your Dark Archangel