A/N- Just a quick warning. This is an all human story, but I'm trying to incorporate as many canon elements as I can. Since I'm working with Rosalie that means that I'm going to be dealing with rape and violence and the after effects of trauma. The rape and beating occurred prior to the story's beginning and there won't be graphic descriptions of either as I don't feel it's necessary, but the aftermath is what the story is about and if this is a particularly sensitive or upsetting topic for you than perhaps this isn't the story for you.
I also want to add that I'm not a doctor or psychologist or therapist or anything. I was diagnosed with PTSD a few years ago after a traumatic incident (not a sexual assault, something else) and so when I'm writing Rosalie here I'm writing from my own experiences and memories- I am not writing from any position of expertise on ptsd or therapy and it's different for everyone.
After all that serious stuff…I hope you enjoy it! It's my first time writing all-human Twilight fic, so I'm not all that sure how it's going to go. As always, comments and questions are very welcome and all credit goes to Stephenie Meyer for the creation of the characters and the Twilight world!
Chapter 1- Flying Away.
The pressure from the plane taking off pushes me back against the seat and makes my ears ring. I swallow hard to make my ears pop, and then sigh and relax as the plane levels out. We're flying out in the grey, pre-dawn light, and I watch silently as the lights of New York tilt and curve underneath me as the plane find its path. It's not until we're through the clouds and I can't see any more that I turn back to face front.
The flight attendants go through the safety demonstration, and once they're done I plug my own headphones into the seat and flip through the movie channels. There's not much I haven't seen- in the last eight weeks I've done pretty much nothing but lie in bed and watch movies and tv shows downloaded from the net – so in the end I settle for watching an old favourite from my childhood.
My brother Jasper is beside me, listening to his ipod and leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed. I can't help but notice how tired and strained he looks. I guess the past few weeks have been hard on all of us, in different ways.
Jasper opens his eyes long enough to accept a beverage and package of cookies from the attendant when she rolls around the cart. Without saying anything he opens my cookies before he passes them to me, and although I don't say anything I do appreciate it. With the fibreglass cast encasing my left arm from the second knuckles of my fingers to my elbow a lot of little things are difficult.
"You should try and sleep a little, Rosalie," Jasper says quietly. "You look tired."
I don't answer him. Of course I'm tired. I'm exhausted…he knows how little I sleep these days. But as New York falls further behind us and I think about getting away from everything I can feel myself relaxing and think that maybe Jas is right. Maybe I should take a nap. I lean back in the seat and close my eyes.
I'm not aware of falling asleep, but I know I have when the dream starts. The same thing, the darkness and cold and the horrible laughter…even in the dream I know it's not real but that doesn't stop the flood of terror I feel as it surrounds me.
"Rosalie…Rose!" It's Jasper, his voice low and urgent in my ear. "You're dreaming. Wake up, it's okay."
He doesn't touch me. He learned that lesson early on, when I woke from one of the nightmares and whacked him in the face with my cast. I don't have any signatures or drawings or funny saying on my cast- the only mark on it is the scattered brown drops of Jasper's blood from where I split his lip open.
Now I wrench myself back into wakefulness, feeling the familiar sweating shakiness that always comes with the nightmare. I breathe hard for a minute, the artificially cool air of the aeroplane reassuring me that it's okay now, it was only a dream and not real, not now…I touch my face, feeling calmer.
"Thanks," I say to Jasper quietly.
"It's okay. I thought I should wake you anyway, we'll be landing soon if you want to go to the bathroom or anything."
"Yeah, I think I will."
I move past him and walk down the plane to the bathroom, ignoring the eyes that follow me. Women look with envy and men look with desire…it's been this way for years and I don't even think about it anymore.
It's awkward enough to manoeuvre in the tiny bathroom even without the added burden of my cast, but I manage as best I can. I use the toilet and then splash some water on my face with one hand, scrubbing it dry with a scratchy paper towel. I have fading marks on my cheek where I slept against Jasper's shoulder and my blonde hair looks dirtier and messier than usual. I run my fingers through it and wish I'd thought to bring my hairbrush.
Back at my seat Jasper buckles me in for the landing in Seattle. I hate being dependent on him for so much help! I know the cast is due to come off soon, and I can't wait.
The plane has barely stopped when the passengers are on their feet, pulling down bags from the overhead lockers, jostling slightly to get into the aisle and get out of the plane. I sit motionless though, and Jasper waits patiently beside me.
"I don't want to go," I say abruptly, staring down at my hands. My fingernails have grown back, and the ones on my casted arm are dirty. "I don't want to live with strangers and start over at a new school."
"You know Dr and Mrs Cullen," Jasper says reasonably.
"I don't know their kids."
"Would you rather be at home?"
"No." I bite my lip. "I guess this is the lesser of two evils…I know that, I'm just complaining." With a deep sigh I rise to my feet and gather my jacket and backpack. "Come on, let's go," I say, and follow Jasper's tall form down the aisle. We're the last ones off the plane.
The airport is busier and noisier than I had expected for eleven on a weekday morning. The crowds of people pushing around us as we make our way through the domestic arrivals gate are making me tense, and I nearly snap at a child who bangs into my leg and steps on my foot. I grit my teeth and move closer to Jasper.
"It's okay Rosalie," Jasper tells me, looking around. "Dr Cullen said he'd be waiting for us. We'll be out of here soon."
I hunch my shoulders slightly and hold my sweater closer to me, crossing my good arm defensively over the cast. I can feel my heartbeat racing, and I'm horrified at the idea of having a panic attack here, in the middle of this crowd. I force myself to take a deep breath, and then amongst the strangers I see a familiar face. Dr Carlisle Cullen, my dad's old college roommate.
"Over there," I mutter to Jasper, and the two of us head over to the tall blonde man. Beside him I see the sleek, caramel brown curls of his wife, Esme.
"Jasper, Rosalie, it's good to see you!" Dr Cullen shakes Jasper's hand and would shake mine if I didn't have both my hands hidden under the sweater I'm holding bundled up to my chest.
"Hi Dr Cullen, Mrs Cullen," Jasper says.
"Oh, you have to call me Carlisle now," the doctor says with a grin. "I can't be Dr Cullen at home."
"And you must just call me Esme," she adds. She's small and soft and smiling at us with friendliness, but when she goes to hug me I flinch. I can't help it. I don't like anyone to touch me now. Esme just pretends she doesn't notice though, and touches Jasper lightly on the arm. "Let's go find your luggage and then we can get out of here. We've got a bit of a drive ahead of us."
Silently I follow them the baggage claim, letting Jasper answer their questions about the flight and about how our father is doing. No one mentions why we're here, but everyone knows it and the knowledge hangs heavily in between us all.
We're lucky that our bags come through quickly. Jasper claims his rucksack and throws it on a trolley and then drags my two suitcases off the carousel. His camera bag comes last, vibrant with the bright 'FRAGILE' stickers all over it, and he places it carefully on the top of the stack. I shrug out of my backpack and add it to the pile as Jasper pushes the trolley after Carlisle as he leads us out of the airport.
I like the car. It's a Mercedes, the newest model, and the leather seats are soft and comfortable when I slide into the backseat beside Jasper.
"It's about three and a half hours to Forks," Carlisle says, looking at us in the rear view mirror. "We'll stop somewhere along the way for lunch, and just let us know if you need anything. Otherwise, just settle in."
It's a pretty quiet drive. Esme and Carlisle talk a little, and Esme addresses a few things to Jasper. He does his best to answer, but he's never been in to small talk and she's not very successful at drawing him out.
I put my headphones on and stare out the window at the passing scenery. I know I'm being rude and I should be making more of an effort, but I can't. I know they're doing so much for Jasper and I, taking us in this way, but the necessity of it makes me so angry that I half hate them for their generosity.
Really, I just hate the whole world right now.
I hear Esme's light laugh even through the headphones, and see the smile Carlisle gives her. I wonder why they've decided to do this, take in Jasper and I to live with them for our senior year of high school. Especially considering that they already have three adopted high school aged kids of their own.
I curl a length of my hair around my finger and pull on it, the way I always do when I'm anxious. I've never met the Cullen kids before. Dr Cullen and my father were college roommates and they've always kept in touch. Dr Cullen and Esme have stayed with us every year when they come to Rochester for an annual medical conference, but their kids never came and we've never even been to their place in Forks. I know that their oldest, Emmett, will be a senior this year like Jasper and I, although he's a little older than we are, and that Edward and Alice are both a year younger. I know that they were all adopted, Edward as a toddler and Emmett and Alice when they were kids.
So maybe that's it, I muse, maybe the Cullens just like taking in strays. Maybe they like the broken and damaged… After it happened and my life in Rochester went to hell, it was Dr Cullen who suggested to my dad that I come and stay with them and do my senior year in Washington. He said it might be good for me to start over somewhere new and get away from it all.
Get away from it all. Yeah, like that's even possible. The cast is going to come off my arm soon and no one will ever know anything happened to me by looking at me, but the scars run so much deeper than the surface. I don't know what's waiting for me in Forks, but I somehow doubt that a plane ride across the country is going to be enough to leave my demons behind.
But in the end I agreed to go, if Jasper would come with me. Not that I had much choice really. Things in Rochester were impossible for me, so bad that even going to the other side of the country and starting my senior year at a new school, living with a family I barely knew, seemed preferable. Now that we're into the reality of it though…I pull harder on my hair and glare at the dark green forest flying by outside my window.
