Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: This is my first attempt at fan fiction. I am from Australia, so please be understanding if I use spelling variations or words/descriptions/phrases that may not be familiar to North American readers. I am using the US dictionary and spell check but sometimes I might slip up.

Chapter 1 – Charlie's House

The silver Volvo I was an unwelcome passenger in, screeched to a halt in front of the house I had not seen for over four years. I couldn't help but stare at it with a sense of hunger and sadness as I noticed the aura of neglect and abandonment it showed, even though it had only been empty for about two weeks.

I sat in the car and let my eyes slowly absorb the peeling paint, the slightly dilapidated front porch and the cobwebs hanging off the porch light, swaying in the warm breeze. My minds eye conjured an image of Charlie waving me off to school as I mounted the new bicycle I'd gotten for my tenth birthday just a few days before. I tried to ignore my resentful chauffeur and temporary foster 'brother' as he encouraged me with as much foul language as possible, to exit the car so he could get the hell out of there.

I could see Dad grinning at me, triumphant that he'd taught me to ride my bike and I hadn't fallen off it once in the three days since I'd received it. It was the only athletic activity I'd mastered without suffering a slew of injuries. I pedaled expertly for about three feet before I twisted myself around to grin at Charlie and lifted an arm to wave at him enthusiastically.

That had been my first mistake.

I felt the pull in the handlebars as the bright orange bike listed to the right suddenly. I remembered whipping my torso around so that it was once again front and center and saw looming in front of me the large tree in the front yard that shaded the driveway.

That's when I made my second mistake.

Instead of gently using the hand brakes and placing my feet on the ground to slow me down, I inexplicably, but I realized shortly after, predictably, panicked and tried to correct my trajectory by yanking the handlebars to the left. I still hadn't braked. At this point, I was careening uncontrollably down the driveway on a collision course with the garbage cans parked at the kerb.

That's when I made my third mistake. I closed my eyes!

I accepted with a sense of inevitability that Charlie would be driving me to school and I would be covered in garbage because the cans hadn't been emptied yet. I could vaguely hear the truck down the street interspersed with Charlie's shouts to 'lookout'. I screamed and heard the pounding of Charlie's booted feet on the driveway behind me just before I crashed into the garbage cans and flew over the handlebars.

I woke up in the Forks general hospital two hours later with a concussion and eight new stitches in my scalp, a three inch bald patch on the side of my head where the nurses had shaved my hair away and a broken wrist already encased in its shiny white cast. My bike had a mangled front wheel and a broken bell. Charlie had promised to fix it, but he never did. He knew that I would always be safer with two feet touching the ground at all times, and sometimes not even then.

My companion had gotten out of the car during my trek down memory lane and had stalked around to the passenger side to yank open the door and yell at me to 'get the fuck out of the car already'. I rubbed my old wrist injury fondly and released the seat belt to climb from the car.

Apparently, I'd spent the last five minutes peering out the windscreen ignoring everything he said. One thing I had come to know with certainty in the short time I have known this young man, was that he wanted what he wanted when he wanted it, he was over-the-top in everything that he did and said, he was decidedly narcissistic and he really really didn't like to be ignored. The constant barrage of foul language and whining about his fucked up first day of summer vacation was getting on my nerves and was spoiling my sense of joy and freedom about coming home at last.

I'd never asked for him to bring me here, that had been Carlisle's doing, and I'd already apologized for being the cause of his messed up plans, but that didn't seem to be good enough. Oh no, he felt the need to swear and glare at me as much as he possibly could, just in case I was too thick to understand.

I turned to look into his furious green eyes.

'I have trouble speaking, Dickward; there's nothing wrong with my hearing or ability to understand.'

His lips were clamped into a tight unmoving line and he gripped his messy bronze colored hair with fisted hands. He looked ready to blow a gasket if the red tinge traveling up his neck from the open button down shirt he wore was any indication. A few tufts of light bronze hair poked out from the top of the shirt invitingly, just begging to be stroked. It was a shame he was such a douchebag. He was nothing like his brother who was a jolly gentle giant, or Jasper who was calm and quiet. I couldn't work out what the three of them had in common. I shrugged and sighed audibly as I turned to walk-limp slowly up the path to the front door.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I heard from behind me. "We'll be here all fucking day at this snails pace," he muttered unkindly.

"Shut up, Edward," I responded with exasperation as I turned around to face him with my hands on my hips.

"Feel free to leave me here and I'll call you when I need to be picked up if taking an hour or so out of your day to help someone other than yourself is so bloody difficult and inconvenient for you."

"Fuck you!"

"Not in a million years."

"Fuck you!" Edward repeated resentfully as he spun on his heel to stride down the path to his precious car.

"Hey," I called out to him, "what's your number so I can call you to come pick me up."

Edward didn't even turn around when he showed me the finger. He kept his digit standing at attention all the way to the car. I chuckled and watched as he roared off down the road with his arm out the window and his digit still upright until the car turned the corner and was out of sight. Shaking my head at his childish behavior, I walked up the path and slowly climbed the steep front steps of the small white clap-board house.

I took a deep breath and inserted the key into the front door lock. I had to jiggle the key a bit before it would turn. I heard the familiar sound of the tumblers rolling as the lock disengaged and then the door was swinging inwards. Light flooded the foyer of my old home, which was soon to be my new home and I closed my eyes as memories assailed all of my senses.

I heard the echo of Charlie's snores from the recliner in front of the large TV screen in the living room interspersed with the voices of commentators as they rehashed the rights and wrongs of the players and referees in whatever sports game Charlie had been watching before he fell asleep. I could almost smell the lemon floor polish the housekeeper had used to polish the timber floor boards and the scent of lavender pot pourri which always wafted from the downstairs powder-room under the stairs.

The powder-room had been one of Charlie's favorite rooms in the house except to him, it was called the 'john'. He used to have a magazine rack in there filled with magazines about fishing, hunting and law enforcement. An ashtray was hidden under the mound of toilet rolls in the basket under the hand basin. He thought I didn't know, but I did. After all, I was the one who had put the pot pourri in there to help mask the smell. Charlie just thought I was being domestic. I chuckled fondly at my memories of my Dad. Every Sunday afternoon, right after we'd eaten the roast lunch I'd cooked us, Charlie would disappear into that small room for about an hour, taking care of business, reading and sneaking a cigar.

An absence of four years and the events of the last nine months hadn't blunted my happy memories of living in this house with Charlie and before they divorced when I was two, my vague memories of Renee as well. After Mom had left, it had just been me and Charlie; the two quiet ones in the family who didn't feel the constant need to talk. Memories flooded my mind as I walked slowly through each room of the house, taking note of the neglect that had eroded away at the paintwork, the floor boards and the carpet. The drapes were almost rags; thin and discolored by the wind, sun and rain. I could see mold where the rain had lashed them because someone had obviously left the front windows open.

After a while, the stale smells of the house invaded my senses. The pervasive odor of dankness, dust, mold, grease, beer and stale cigarette smoke seem to hang in the air and decay lay thick on every surface. The walls and ceiling of every room were yellow with nicotine stains and there was a putrid looking stain on the carpet in the master bedroom that I didn't care to think about. The bathrooms were filthy and looked liked they hadn't been cleaned in years; I was afraid to look in the toilet. The stair banister was rickety and half the cupboard doors in the kitchen and laundry room were missing or hanging off. The white kitchen counter-top was no longer white and was cris-crossed with knife marks because the previous tenant hadn't bothered to use a cutting board.

The furniture and appliances that remained were probably well passed their sell-by date, but I would make do with as much of it as I could. The fridge hummed quietly so I was really hoping that it would be okay to use once I cleaned it. I girded my loins, closed one eye and opened the right hand door of the two-door fridge/freezer before expelling a sigh of relief. It was filthy but at least it was empty of unknown organisms masquerading as food which was what I'd been afraid of. I didn't even bother to open the oven door. I could tell by the condition of the cook-top and the unknown substances congealed on the outside of it, that I wouldn't like what was inside. I shuddered and wondered how people could live in such filth.

I checked out the washer and dryer. The front loader washer looked fairly new but would need to be thoroughly cleaned before I would consent to washing anything of mine in it. The dryer looked really old and was shoved in a corner underneath a stack of old newspapers, beer bottles and rags so I pretty much assumed it was dead.

I looked around at the basic furniture that remained in the house. I could recognize most of it as once belonging to Charlie. It was battered and tired looking but most of it would be as good as new once it was stripped down, sanded and refinished. The bed frames would need some work to make them useable but the mattresses would need to be replaced. I ran my hand over the old wooden kitchen table reminiscing about the meals I'd eaten at that table with Charlie and doing my homework while dinner cooked. The dining room table would have to be replaced as it was currently laying haphazardly in the center of the room in two equal pieces as though someone had karate chopped it in half. Inexplicably, the upholstered dining room chairs were in decent condition considering the state of the table.

I pulled a notepad and pen from my shoulder bag and started making lists of things that I would need to make, fix or replace in each room of the house. The magnitude of what needed doing, especially while my body was still recovering, would take every waking moment of the next three months before my junior year at high school began.

I was technically too young to be a junior, I really should have been a sophomore, but I'd always been very bright and I'd been doing my babysitters tenth grade homework when I'd been in middle school. When Mom found out I was doing Tanya's homework for her while she talked to her friends on our phone, polished her nails or made out with whatever boy she was currently dating on our sofa, she'd been furious but also proud that I was so smart that I knew more than the sixteen year old trollop she'd trusted to care for me while she and Phil went out.

Renee kicked out the trollop with a heeled foot to her backside and told her not to come back. When Tanya asked to be paid, Mom threatened to tell the high school that Tanya's homework was being done by a thirteen year old kid who had more brains in her little finger than she'd ever have underneath the bleached blond straw on her head that she called hair. Tanya left.

The next day, Mom paid a visit to my school principal and convinced the Jacksonville school district to let me skip a grade. The eighth grade work still wasn't difficult but I was less bored than I had been in seventh grade. Even through the hell of the last 9 months, I had managed to complete my tenth grade school assignments and ace my final exams even if I didn't actually attend any classes. My junior year was starting in three months time and I had a lot to do between now and then. I was also making a lot of assumptions that my plans would not be for naught because I was counting on my emancipation application being granted two days after my sixteenth birthday. I was a little apprehensive, but my lawyer, and my Florida social worker, Irina and Kate, my new Washington social worker were all confident that the judge would grant my petition.

I was pulling out my cell phone to call J. Jenks, my lawyer to arrange a transfer of money from my trust fund for the repairs to my house, when I heard a car screech to a stop out front. The blaring sound of Sex on Fire by the Kings of Leon was abruptly silenced as the motor turned off. I peered out the front window to see Edward, Emmett and Jasper leap from the car and stride up the front path. A glance at my wrist watch told me that I had been here for three hours. Apparently, Edward had decided to come back for me after all, seeing as he didn't leave me his cell phone number so I could call him.

"Open up, open up, Goldilocks," yelled Emmett as he pounded on the front door. "It's the three bears and we've come home to gobble you all up."

I opened the front door and grinned at Emmett. He grabbed me around the waist with his massive arms, picked me up and walked into the house. Jasper smiled, shook his head and simply followed Emmett in. And Edward … well Edward scowled at me and tapped his fingers against the door frame impatiently. I noticed his jacket brushing against something gray and sticky stuck to the frame.

Shit!

Emmett nuzzled my neck as though he was making good on his promise to eat me and I giggled uncontrollably before I pushed him away from me.

"Emmett, you're mixing your metaphors," I told him with a grin. "It was the Big Bad Wolf who wanted to gobble up Little Red Riding Hood, and it was the three bears who found Goldilocks asleep in their house after she ate all of their porridge … and I'm neither one of those heroines. I'm more like Belle from Beauty and the Beast, petite and brunette."

"I'm no wolf, Bella," Emmett said returning my grin, "that's Jacob Black. So who's the Beast to your Belle in this fairytale house, huh?" queried Emmett.

"The Beast would be Edward the prince who was cursed to remain beastly for all eternity until he found true love," snarked Jasper while looking pointedly at Edward who scowled and took two steps further into the foyer.

"Fucking bullshit," I heard Edward mumble. "True love is a crock of shit, it doesn't exist."

Emmett reached back with one of his massive arms and hit Edward upside the head. "What about Mom and Dad you dipshit. If their relationship's not true love, I don't know what is," countered Emmett, "and my Rosie, now she's my Goldilocks and I'm her Papa Bear."

Edward looked liked he wanted to gag at the sentimentalism coming out of Emmett's mouth. I thought Emmett was sweet – Rose was a lucky girl.

"Yeah, well … they're the exception, not the rule. I still don't believe in fucking fairy tales or true love. Now, if you're finished with the fucking reunion and bedtime stories, can we get the hell out of this stinking rat hole?" spat Edward.

Emmett just snaked his arm out to grab hold of Edward by the neck and pull him further into the house. Edward retaliated by punching Emmett in the kidney and told him to 'fuck off'. Emmett released him but only so he could slam the door shut behind Edward so he couldn't step back outside. I watched Edward with fascination. His hands twitched and he eyed the front door like he wanted to make a break for it, but something held him back. He looked at his hands and then back to the door. He shuddered and wrinkled his nose before shoving his still twitching hands into his jacket pockets and pulled his arms in close to his body. That's when I noticed the sticky mass hanging off the hem - I think it was gum.

Shit! Emmett noticed it as well and smiled evilly.

"Hey, little Bro, what's that hanging off the bottom of your jacket. It looks like old gum. Have you been saving yours for later or something?"

I think Edward actually whimpered and a look of abject horror settled on his face. He pulled his hands from the pockets and held them up like he was afraid to touch anything. He breathed deeply several times until I thought he might actually hyperventilate before reaching down to pluck tentatively at the jacket hem. The sticky, masticated mass was smeared all over the bottom of the beautiful leather jacket. Edward dropped the jacket hem like it was on fire and closed his eyes. He looked like he was praying and his nostrils flared in time with the rapid pulse pounding in his neck.

"Is he okay?" I whispered to Jasper. I was afraid I was going to have to call 911.

"Nah, but he'll get over it sooner or later."

"What's wrong with him?"

"Anxiety and OCD tendencies."

"Oh." Then, "Was it something I did?"

"Nah, it was the gum."

"Oh."

Edward finally spoke through gritted teeth. "We're going. Right now! Get your shit, Bella, or you can fucking make your own way home. I need to take a shower to get the rank smell of this house out of my hair, and if the cleaners ruin this jacket removing that fucking gum which wasn't there before I set foot into this house, I'll be sending you the fucking bill, Bella."

I actually cringed and took a step backwards in automatic response to Edwards vitriolic manner.

"Cool it, Edward," Jasper said in my defense. It's not like it's Bella's fault the previous tenant wasn't the clean freak you are. Go wait outside if you can't stand to be inside; and an ice-cube will get the gum off the jacket."

"The ice will ruin the leather when it melts," he whined.

"What's worse you shithead? The gum or a little water that will dry. No-one will notice the water mark on the hem."

"I'll fucking know!" Edward yelled pugnaciously.

Jasper just rolled his eyes at his foster brother and best friend of two years who was also his girlfriends brother and followed Emmett and I into the living room. Edward was left standing alone in the foyer, afraid to remove the jacket because he'd have to touch it again.

Emmett and Jasper looked around the dim room at the peeling paint, the threadbare rug and the sagging sofa. I could see from their expressions that they agreed with Edward but they were being more tactful, something that had been missed out of Edward's gene-pool when he was created.

"Well, Bella," Emmett said as he scratched his head, "I don't usually like to agree with anything that Edward says," Edward scowled at the dig and flipped the bird at his brother from his rigid stance in foyer, "but I have to say, in this particular case, he's right, even if he wasn't very polite about it."

I looked at Jasper for his opinion. He grimaced and shrugged his shoulder in reluctant agreement and Edward smirked at me for being proven right, something he thrived on.

Prick! Any sympathy I may have felt for his anxiety over the gum and his jacket evaporated in an instant.

"Um, yeah, I know but the house will be good as new once I'm finished with it.

"Bella, there's too much work to be done here by one little girl who's not running on all four cylinders yet. You're going to need some serious help to get this place in shape if this room is any indication of the state of the rest of the house. Not to mention the yard needs work, the outside of the house needs painting and the garage looks like it might fall over in the next storm, which will probably be tonight, because you know, this is Forks."

My shoulders slumped in defeat before I pulled myself up and spoke with determination. "Don't rain on my parade, Emmett. This house will be beautiful again and I'll do it before school starts in September. I'm pretty good with a hammer, a saw and a screwdriver I'll have you know and I can clean and paint as well which is pretty much all this house needs."

"Would you accept some help though, Bella?" asked Jasper.

"Hell, yeah," agreed Emmett.

Edward scowled again at the thought of spending any more of his time in my disgusting house.

"Oh, thanks, you guys are the best. I can't believe that two people I've only known for three days would want to help me like this especially on their summer vacation. Are you really sure though; you must have plans with Rosalie and Alice? I don't want to um … interfere with them … your plans I mean, but I would really appreciate the muscle on the bigger stuff that needs doing."

"Yeah, hell yeah," Emmett said again with a nod of his head and a flex of his massive arm muscles.

Jasper nodded and grinned.

"Alice will be itching to help as well," Jasper told me, "especially if helping has anything to do with shopping or choosing furniture and well, other stuff you might need. She just thrives on that type of thing."

Emmett was nodding his head vigorously. "Rosie will help as well. She can check out all of your appliances. That girl is amazing at fixing anything with any type of motor."

I froze at the reference to 'Alice' and 'shopping' in the same sentence followed by 'Rosalie' in the second one. I had learned within twenty-four hours of meeting her, that Alice had no concept of the meaning of the words 'budget', 'too expensive' and 'I can't afford it'. And Rosalie, well Rosalie just scared the shit out of me. She was so beautiful and tall, and blond and fearless and I don't think she liked me very much. I didn't want to assume Rose would automatically help me just because Emmett said she would. Alice, I knew, would eagerly throw herself into the project and spend the entire contents of my trust fund before the end of the summer if I let her.

"Um, well that's great, if they want to help and all, but I've got a budget I have to stick to and I'm not sure how well Alice will accept the news," I said tentatively.

Jasper put his arm around my shoulders and I winced slightly at the unexpected pressure and weight of his arm on my recently healed collar bone. Jasper didn't seem to notice and I had no intention of saying anything because it was kinda nice to be hugged by someone other than my social worker. I looked up to find Edward staring at me with narrowed eyes. Shit. Had he noticed me wincing? I tried not to stoop under the weight of Jasper's arm and returned my attention to what he was saying.

"... now Little Darlin' don't you worry none. Alice will stick to your budget if you tell her what it is. That girl can find bargains with one eye closed."

Emmett scoffed. "Yeah, but neither of her eyes are what you'd call 'cheap' eyes, now are they? Her bargain finds all have designer labels. We're all gonna have to rein her in."

"Can we fucking go yet?" snarked Edward from the foyer. He still hadn't moved.

"Are you gonna help out with this place?" Emmett snarked back.

"Will it get me the fuck out of here right now, if I say fucking yes?"

"Yes, but you have to commit to helping out for two days per week until the house is done. Agreed?"

"Fuck you. Fucking yes, alright. Now can we fucking go?"

"Alright, Bro, you wait outside and we'll be out in a minute once Bella collects her bag and stuff."

Edward turned around and stalked to the door but just stood there staring at the door knob like it would magically turn itself and open so he could step out.

"Um, Emmett?" Edward called out with a note of hysteria in his voice.

"Yeah?"

"Could you open the door?" asked Edward in a small voice.

Emmett stomped over to the door, grasped the dirty door knob, then turned and pulled it so the door would swing inwards forcing Edward to step back to avoid being struck in the head.

"Pussy," he mumbled as Edward left the house.

He responded by showing Emmett his finger as he sprinted down the front stairs to freedom.