A/N: So, in making all our favorite vampires non-vampires, I went with the idea that the majority of the Cullen family came from broken or abusive families. How else could they all end up as Carlisle and Esme's adoptees? This means that WARNING: there will be some abusive scenes. Nothing too explicit, but the topic is touched on. Please Read & Review =D

EPOV

I woke with a start, waves of nausea turning my stomach. Rolling over, I swung my long legs off the side of my bed and peered outside the window. Dawn was breaking. It was still a long while before I needed to rise, but I would get no rest after that. The dream that haunted my nights was vivid, but I suppose that's because it wasn't a dream. It was a memory.

My mom, eyes wide with terror, smiling to keep my sister and I calm as she pushed us out of the hall and into a closet. She was whispering quickly now, begging us not to make a sound; "He'll never know you're here. Just our little secret," she would grin her lopsided smile at us again. I don't remember if, in the eight years I knew her, her smile ever reached her eyes.

And then she closed the door. He banged through the front door, grunting her name in his awful, grating voice. She called back to him in a sweet, demurring voice, but it was never enough to calm him.

Then the noises began: first the sharp slap of skin meeting skin, the quick intake of breath, the sound of cloth ripping, of her calmly telling him 'no', his rough laugh as he disregarded her, a stifled moan of pain as he pushed himself on top of her, her screams tore through the house. It was the sound of pain.

My sister and I would wait, shivering in the closet. I would pull Rosalie close as we cried, my arms cocooning her as I pressed her face into my small chest to muffle the sobs. I would bite her hair or my fist to keep from crying out myself.

Afterwards, Mother would come get us. She would smile the smile that never reached her eyes. I was always amazed that she was never crying. When we were young, too young to understand, my mother would protect us, tell us it was all okay. Later, when we were old enough to know the terrible things that my father did, but still too young to do anything about it, Rose asked why she never cried. I'll never forget what my mother said: "I've dried up, Rosey. I have no more to give."

The next day, she was dead. It wasn't the last thing my mom said to me, but they were the last words I remembered.

I sat on my bed, curling my arms around my legs as I watched the sun rise.

"Edward?" I heard my sister's voice crack as she whispered my name.

"Come here, Rose," I lifted my arm and she slid across the floor soundlessly. She laid across my bed, propping her shoulders across my knees. Her feet balanced on my pillow, where she knew I didn't like them to be. She smiled up at me coyly, daring me to say something. It was too early and I was too tired. I smiled back at her. I don't think it reached my eyes.

RPOV

I watched him start awake, watched him unfurl and sit, back against the wall, staring out the window. I sighed a silent sigh. My poor Edward, always so stoic. He was my protector, I suppose, in so many ways. He always had been. Technically, I was older by two minutes, but Edward had been born ancient.

I wasn't friendly with many people, but Edward was my twin, and we were close, even by those standards. I knew at high school I had a reputation for being a skank and a bit abrasive, as Alice liked to put it, but with Edward, none of that mattered. He would always love me, and I took comfort in my one constant. I knew what he had been dreaming; I had dreamt it too. He looked so sad as he sat curled in on himself. I wanted to make him happy, to ease his pain as he so effortlessly eased mine. But I knew I couldn't so I settled for distraction.

"Edward?"

He lifted his arm, and beckoned me to him. "Come here, Rose."

I settled onto his bed, and deliberately propped my feet onto his pillow. I knew he hated it, thought it unsanitary. If I could just coax him into a conversation, even if he was just chiding me, maybe he wouldn't be so morose. No such luck. He smiled a fake smile and went back to watching the sun.

I sighed and shook out my golden tresses. The sun had no interest for me, rising or not. I combed my fingers through my hair, gently unsnarling the knots and waited for him to talk. I knew Edward and this is what he needed.

It didn't take long.

"Why are you up?" We both whispered in the pre-dawn. It was a big house, but that didn't change the fact that there was seven of us, and I was pretty sure noone else would be up this early.

"You were loud," I hoped my half smile would show I didn't mind being awoken.

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't be," I shrugged. "I had the dream too."

"You okay?" he peered at my face intently. Typical Edward. Here it was the third night he had woken fitfully, and he was worried about me.

"Yeah. You woke me before anything happened."

He nodded, silent.

"Your feet are on my pillow, you know," he said after a minute.

"Are they?" I rubbed my toes over the slip-cover.

His lip curled and his eyes narrowed. "How's it going with Emmett, by the way?"

I flipped my hair in his face.

Crossing to my side of the room, I sat in front of the vanity Esme had set up for me and glared at him through the reflection until he relented. The sound of Alice crashing dishes around as she tried to silently make breakfast rose through the two stories of the house.

"Sorry, Rosey," he tried to look contrite, but he was still teasing me.

"Shut up, jerk."

He followed after me. Placing his hand on my shoulder, he said, "He'll come around, you know."

Before I could respond, he was out the door, headed to help Alice in her no doubt doomed attempt to scramble eggs.

APOV

I woke up early, eager to start the day. I had always been told I was a morning person, but then Jasper was fond of saying I was also a noon, afternoon, evening, and night person. But today was special; I'd had a dream. One that told me I needed to be happy and that I needed to talk to Edward.

I knew that many people thought I was nutty and I had a reputation around school as being a few fries short of a Happy Meal, but, hey, who cared? I was happy. I had parents, kind of, that loved me. I had friends, all four of them, and I had Jasper. And by the end of today, I had a feeling I would be even better. Yes, today was a good day.

The morning air was cold. I threw a robe on over my yoga pant and tank top combo for propriety's sake. I knew Carlisle and Esme were almost ridiculously accepting of the five of us, but I still did my best to earn their carefully turned eye.

I bustled downstairs happily, making my way to the kitchen. Armed with a glass bowl and a whisk, I set myself to beating the dozen and a half eggs that would be needed to feed my family. I tried to be quiet about it. I figured the boys would be happier waking up to the scent of cooking breakfast than my loud clattering. Rose could sleep through anything.

"Good morning," was Edward's cursory greeting. I eyed him speculatively as he began chopping the mushrooms and tomatoes I had already set out. We worked in silence (sans my unsuccessful attempt at not making a racket). I winced at a particularly loud crash courtesy of the stupid whisk. I was not a clumsy person per se, but I could be a bit loud when I tried to be circumspect.

"You were in my dream last night," I said nonchalantly, knowing he would pay attention. "You met a friend. She made you unhappy for some reason, sad almost. Do try to be nice. She'll be my friend too."

He didn't say anything at my change in tense.

We heard a noise and turned to see Rosalie stalking down the stairs.

"You," I said, indicating Rose, "won't like her."

Emmett snorted from the stair case. "It looses some of its mojo when you predict the obvious. She doesn't like anyone."

"Be nice," Jasper's whispy voice could be heard from the second floor overhang.

"Oh, Jasper," I called up to him. "Be nice to her too. I want to make a good impression." He nodded, leaning over the railing so I could see him, and smiled. It was a smile meant for me and I couldn't help but grin back.

Yes, I thought, stirring the milk and cheese into the eggs, a very good day.