A/N: Hi all, here's the next installment. Please note that this is the last chapter I have 100% written and edited. I am a research scientist and working on my graduate degrees, so I have a very little amount of time to dabble with fiction, but I'll do my best to keep getting this out. This is going to be a much shorter piece than Gravity of Love (a BellaxEdward story for those of you who haven't read it and might be interested...you should check it out...I'm pretty proud of it so far :) /shameless plug) and right now Rosalie and Emmett are holding my attention much better than anyone else, so hopefully this will come a lot more quickly than GoL has been. Please, please, please R I will respond to all reviews, I promise...I haven't had a free moment to spare, so that is the next task on my agenda!! Thank you for your support and if you are lurking, please come out and say hi! It would really brighten my otherwise stress-filled days! Anyways, I hope you enjoy. This will be one of the last few chapters that are almost exclusively Rosalie-centric; we'll start to see much more R/E interaction after Rose works her way through these last few hurdles.
As always, I don't own it...I'm just having fun with Stephanie's creations :)
Scar Tissue
Emmett and I began spending several hours a day in the garage tinkering with my BMW. He showed me all of the different components of an engine and explained what each one did and how they might typically malfunction. He taught me about the tools commonly used in car repair and all of the everyday items that you could substitute for parts in a pinch. He still wasn't sure what his occupation had been previously, but whatever it was, he dealt directly with cars or had a lot of free time to learn about them. He kept his hands off the car for the most part, still figuring out how to maintain a delicate touch with objects that had once seemed almost indestructible to him, but I was still garnishing a great deal from his lessons. Regardless of what he could or couldn't do, I was grateful for his help, and – if I were going to be completely honest with myself – his friendship
I found myself becoming more and more attracted to him as the days moved forward, but I was still incredibly hesitant. He had been nothing but a gentleman, although not the kind I was used to. The men that I was brought up to think of as gentlemen were haughty, spoiled boys with more money than they knew what to do with and more education than they ever chose to use. They put on a great show for society and prospective women, but it was clear that if they were capable of what Royce and his "friends" were, they were anything but gentlemanly. Emmett, on the other hand, was genuinely kind and respectful. He treated me as an equal; as someone who deserved an opinion and was more than something physically appealing to look at. Even though I was flattered by his ability to see me as a person and not just an object, my vanity was something deeply engrained in my character, so I still had moments of fleeting distress that he – like Edward – was not the least bit interested in my beauty. The number of times I caught him staring at me from the corner of my eye while I was inspecting the engine or turned away from him to get a tool dispelled those concerns quickly.
I was a paradox in that regard, I know. I wanted so desperately to be seen for something other than my unnaturally gorgeous exterior, but I wasn't happy unless I knew that everyone found me absurdly attractive. I think it came down to the fact that I had held on so tightly to my human self, and my human self had been taught to value aesthetics above all else. Emmett somehow managed to make me feel at ease with my laughably opposing views, letting his gaze linger on me for a moment more than necessary when we would speak, but never letting it roaming inappropriately. He was also sure to keep a respectable distance between us, even when working in close quarters. As blissfully unaware as he seemed most of the time, it was clear that he had picked up on my discomfort that first day and had refrained from putting a hand on me again. This made me feel both comfortable and incredibly guilty all at the same time. I wanted him to be himself around me, and watching his interactions with our family members, he was clearly a more hands-on person than the rest of us, but around me he curbed this behavior and a tiny part of me whished that he didn't. I didn't know why I felt this way, but I decided to be grateful that he was going out of his way to treat me with so much dignity than to dwell on the fact that my mind and my heart couldn't agree on what they wanted.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was a brilliantly sunny day in mid July when Carlisle announced that he wanted to take a trip up to northern Canada to visit some old friends. Esme, of course, would be joining him and Edward was interested in the vastly different hunting opportunities. I had figured that Emmett would go with them, so I declined the invitation, surprised that I was so looking forward to some time to myself.
I was flat out under my car, tinkering with the exhaust when I heard Carlisle's footsteps on the concrete floor.
"Rosalie?" He called. I could see his Ferragamo wingtips peeking out from behind the front bumper. For a man born close to 300 years ago, he certainly kept up with current fashion.
I pushed my head out from under the BMW and looked up at him expectantly.
"We think it is best that Emmett stay home with you. The route we're traveling isn't entirely devoid of humans and he is still so young. I know he's been surprisingly stable, but he is such a big man that we just cannot take that sort of risk," Carlisle explained. He sounded pained; he didn't like to look at any of us as some sort of liability, but it's yet another thing that we were forced to accept. We were monsters and sometimes we had to be treated as such.
I stared at him for a long moment, unsure how to respond. I briefly wondered if all vampires were as highly emotional as my family was or if it were a product of the lifestyle we chose to lead. Had I taken even a single second to actually examine what I was feeling, I would've laughed at the ridiculousness of it, no doubt. But there I was, staring up at a man that I considered my father, and all I could think was that he wouldn't be there to protect me if something happened again. The irrationality of it was absolutely pathetic; I was physically just as strong as Carlisle and I was actually faster and a good deal more agile. Esme was one hundred percent right when she said that no one could harm me any longer, but the part of my brain that clung so desperately to my human life screamed that I was just some fragile little girl and I had no way to defend myself against the big, bad world. And beyond that, after all the kindness and friendship Emmett had shown me, to think that he would be so sadistic was sickening. I felt the anger boiling hot and thick in the pit of my stomach for even thinking that he would do to me what Royce and his goons had. Emmett deserved so much more from me than my displaced demons.
Carlisle's brow creased in growing concern that I had yet to respond. I mentally stripped my voice of any other emotions and replied. "Fine. But I'd best be getting something out of this. I hardly think it's fair that I have to 'babysit' while the rest of you go on vacation," I bit out haughtily. Let him think that I was trying to keep my annoyance at not getting my way in check. Let him think that I'm just a selfish, petulant child who wants her way.
But he was neither an idiot or uncaring. He sighed. "It'll be fine, Rosalie," he said softly, the creases smoothing from his face. "And if it'll make you happy, I'll see what I can do about arranging a little getaway just for you. Perhaps a long sail down to the Tropics on your own yacht," he mused. I knew that wasn't a hollow promise; if I wanted to go sailing on a private ocean liner to my very own island, Carlisle could make it happen, but I knew that he was really just saying that to placate me.
I nodded once, curtly, and rolled myself back underneath my car without another word. I could almost hear his lips turning up into a small smile and then he stepped away from me.
"This will be good for you, Rosalie," his voice came quietly from just inside the house. "We all love you and just want to see you live your life in peace."
I let go of a shuddering breath and turned my full attention back to my car, pausing only briefly to acknowledge them as they chorused their goodbyes.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It wasn't until several hours later, after doing all I could to the BMW and making my way back into the house that I saw Emmett. His massive frame was sprawled out on the wide oak floor boards in the sun room, a game of solitaire spread out before him. His chin was resting on his stacked fists as he surveyed the cards. He looked so innocent, so boyish lying on the ground doing something so human. He had no idea I was standing there, watching him. I had only recently mastered the art of complete silence when I moved around; I prided myself on being the only one in our family able to accomplish this. To human ears, we were all undetectable; even Emmett would be with just an ounce of restraint. But I had managed to become almost ghostlike even to Carlisle if I so chose. I suppose it was a coping mechanism; knowing that I could remain entirely aloof if I wanted to be. Esme and Carlisle thought that Edward was the "difficult" child – the recluse, the brooding one, but I was just as disconnected. I just happened to do a better job hiding it.
He let out an almost comical sigh and pooled the cards together; obviously there were no legal moves left. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch involuntarily, secretly thrilled that even when playing a meaningless hand of cards by himself with presumably no one watching, he still had enough integrity to stick to the rules. I took a light step forward, purposefully making my presence known and he turned over his shoulder, a wide grin on his face.
"I was just about to start yet another game of solitaire," he gestured towards the pile of card with his chin. "But since you're here, any interest in playing something for two?" His eyes were wide and eager, looking excited at the prospect of having someone to do something with.
"Sure," I agreed evenly. I took a slow breath, about to step forward into the room to join him, but then I caught a glance of myself in the hallway mirror. Oh hell, I look a mess! I scolded myself, shocked. I was usually so careful not to get myself dirty…ever. Never a hair out of place or a speck of anything on my clothing; but there I was, splotched in grease and motor oil, my hair tangled and flat from lying under my car for so many hours. "I'd just like to freshen up first, if you don't mind."
"Freshen up?" He repeated incredulously, appraising me quickly before meeting my eyes again. "What for? You look striking as always and it's not like there's any need to impress me. You've already done an astounding job of that." His words were blunt and honest, but I immediately replayed them, searching for any sign of a patronizing tone or even the slightest hint of an ulterior motive. I came away with nothing.
"Well," I balked, completely unsure as to how to respond, so I chose to bristle and put on a front to keep myself safe. "I feel dreadful is what for! If it's neither here nor there to you, then I'm going to go change." My words were sharp and definite. I knew I was being ridiculous, but I couldn't seem to help myself. I still had no idea how I was supposed to behave around him, so maintaining my arrogant wit seemed like the best thing to do.
"Oh Rosalie, don't be like that," he murmured as I turned to go. I immediately spun on my heels and glared at him, fully expecting that he'd back down. Apparently I didn't look as vicious as I thought I did because he just raised an eyebrow, waiting for a reply.
"Be like what, Emmett?" I ground out, my lips purposefully twisting around his name in mockery.
"Like that!" He gestured vaguely at me in exasperation. He rolled over into a sitting position and looked up at me. "You can be so…intolerable sometimes! We seem to get on so well and then I say something that I think is nice or flattering or whatever the right word for that is and you completely shut me off! I'm trying to become a part of your life, Rosalie! I'm trying to be open and honest with you and you act like I'm burning you! I'm not expecting you to blush and giggle at my compliment, but I don't really appreciate you burying me for it, either. I don't know what I've done to put you off or what I'm triggering, but I'm not trying to be the villain here," he finished more quietly, his knees drawn up and his elbows resting on them casually. If I had understood him then as I do now, I would've recognized that he had stayed seated as to not seem threatening to me; as to not use his size as a method of intimidation.
I was blown away by him and remained frozen, staring down at his soft countenance. He always seemed so happily unobservant that I assumed he wasn't paying attention, but clearly he was more aware than I had ever considered giving him credit for. I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it again, not knowing what to say. He didn't push me, keeping silent as he watched my face with interest. I felt like every carefully laid fortress I had so painstakingly assembled had just smashed to smithereens and I was standing completely naked and exposed to him. My slender fingers curled into my fists and I shut my eyes tightly, willing myself to remain in control.
"You haven't the slightest fragment of an idea as to what I've been through. You have no right to judge me like that!" I growled, my words slow and hard, fired precisely from my lips. "What could you possibly know about me?"
"I know that you have been judged your whole life, Rosalie. It doesn't take any sort of special ability to see something so abundantly clear. I would never seek to judge you, I am merely observing your response to me and trying to make you see what you are doing. I know that you're terrified of something. Though whether it's me, or it's this life, or it's something I'm entirely unaware of, I have no idea. But sometimes you are so plainly frightened and I can't help but think I have a part in this. That makes me physically ill," he murmured, watching me through thick lashes. "I wish you felt safe enough to open up to me, to give me a little insight into your mind. I think it must be very lonely, being you. I want nothing more than for you not to feel lonely any longer." He sighed deeply, rising to his feet with astonishing grace. He moved towards the mammoth picture window facing out into the woods and leaned his palms against the sill, staring out into the obsidian night. "You might not think that what we are is a gift, but I do. I still have a life to live and things to look forward to and that means something to me. And you are the reason that I am still here. I feel so incredibly indebted to you and I want to do something to change that. But unless you give me any inclination as to what that something is, I am essentially helpless."
He was still focused on the inky forest, but my attention was fully trained on him. I was struck by his incredible composure, though he was the first change I had witnessed, Carlisle had made it very clear that newborns were very volatile and often irrational creatures. I had no doubt this would be the case if Emmett were to encounter a human at this stage, but for him to keep such a calm demeanor during an obviously stressful and frustrating conversation was no ordinary feat.
"Emmett…I…I…" But I couldn't bring myself to speak what was truly begging to be set free. So instead, I ran.
