Disclaimer: The Twilight series is exclusive property of Stephenie Meyer. Any reference to Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, Breaking Dawn, or the mythology therein is her creative property. No plagiarism intended. This is a fan-created story.

Author's Note: I apologize for my extended hiatus from this story. I've just begun the latest and greatest of my adventures in higher education: GRAD SCHOOL. It's been an intense month and I haven't had the brain cells available to write anything worth reading. Thanks to everyone for their continued reading and reviewing! A special thank-you to the great people who wrote to check on me. I really appreciate it! It's always a joy to hear what you think and a privilege to share with you. I hope you have fun reading Chapter 6! A special thank-you to Stephenie Meyer for some of the most attractive and enjoyable characters in contemporary fiction.

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"You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose."

-Antoine de Saint-Exupery

"I don't know what happened. The smell…a-and the wind…the heat…I couldn't stand it. I could hear her heart squeezing and the scent was so…I've never smelled anything like that, Rosalie. Never."

Rosalie swallowed and tried to focus on what Emmett was saying to her. Her mind wandered again and again to his words, replaying them like an off-kilter phonograph. I killed her, Rosalie. I killed her. I killed her, Rosalie. I killed her. I killed her, Rosalie. I killed her.

"One minute I was walking past and I saw her. She was hanging something on the end of the clothesline. Nightgowns. And they smelled so… and then she was in front of me and my teeth were in her neck and I …" Emmett sounded horrified at his own re-telling.

Rosalie struggled to keep her voice from shaking. "Go on."

"I looked at her face. Just for a second. Just to see…" He sounded as if his heart would break. "She was old, older than my mother was when I left home that morning. The morning the bear found me."

She couldn't think of a thing to say. Rosalie tried to force his words into a shape that made sense. To kill, to feed... Was there a difference? Some unwanted faces surfaced in her memory. Faces like Royce King's. She shivered. And then suddenly, she was angry.

"And I killed her! What am I, Rosalie? How could I do that?" Emmett's face was tortured.

Rosalie shook her head. She opened her mouth to speak and shut it again. Pursing her lips a long moment, she finally lifted her face back to his, defiantly. "Who cares?" she said, the corners of her mouth tightening.

"What?"

"I said, 'Who cares?' So you killed someone. I've killed someone." Rosalie shifted her weight from foot to foot, balling her hands into fists. "We're vampires. All this…eating animals business is just… fighting nature."

"Rosalie..." Emmett's voice was shocked.

"You said it yourself. She was old. You couldn't help it. There's no point in being sorry forever."

"But you said—…"

"I know what I said." Rosalie tossed her hair, her eyes glassy and cold in the moonlight.

"You don't believe it's wrong?"

"Wrong…right…what does that mean? If you had told me three years ago that I would be turned into a vampire by the Cullen family, I would have laughed in your face. I don't know what I believe anymore." She looked a little lost. "What do you believe?"

Emmett hesitated. "I believe in you. And if good things like you exist, God must exist, too."

She put a hand on his cheek, uncertainly.

"What do we do?" he asked.

She sighed, "We have to tell Carlisle."

As they flew back over the grass, stopping just shy of the porch, they became aware of Edward's slim frame where it leaned against a pillar.

"Come to lecture?" Rosalie found herself snapping.

Edward rolled his eyes. "That would be pretty damned hypocritical of me, Rosalie, wouldn't you say?"

Emmett looked surprised.

Edward nodded in his direction, smiling thinly, answering the unspoken. "Oh, much, much worse than you. Ten a night, sometimes." His eyes glinted darkly. "There is nothing like it."

Rosalie broke in, impatiently, "Has Carlisle heard, yet?"

Her brother shook his head.

Emmett looked very small inside his gigantic body.

"I promise," Edward said, ruefully. "After having me for a son, nothing you say will shock him."

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Carlisle spoke, breaking the long and heavy silence, "Of course, this is not what we hoped for, Emmett."

Emmett kept his eyes on the ground. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

"The change is a difficult one, I know," the doctor went on, gravely. "And the most difficult skill to master in this new life is restraint. It requires discipline and endurance and great discomfort. I realize that what I ask of each of you is, in all likelihood, impossible. And yet, we attempt it, all the same."

The corners of Esme's eyes turned down with sadness as she watched Emmett's face.

"But do not think, Emmett, that I do not understand."

The boy finally gathered the courage to meet Carlisle's eyes.

"I have lived many years. Too many years to not feel the pain and weariness you feel. Many of our kind simply give into it. But you, my son, are made of better stuff than most. You can be different."

Beside Emmett, Rosalie swallowed the lump in her throat and squeezed her fingers tight around his. Neither of them had missed the inflection Carlisle had placed on the word, 'son.'

Carlisle continued, "The next order of business is to care for the family. I have met them once or twice. There is a granddaughter who lives on the property."

Emmett flinched.

"I have instructed Edward to speak to an attorney at law who practices in Rochester. He will set up an anonymous trust fund which shall be entrusted to her nearest legal guardian."

Edward and Emmett stared at one another and Edward shook his head.

"Secondly, there is the matter of the body."

Esme's hand fluttered helplessly to her mouth.

"Fortunately," Carlisle did not look as though he thought it was fortunate, "A vampire attack looks very much like a wild animal. I do not think there will be much investigation beyond that. However…" He paused and looked around the room at his family. "It may be time to consider a change. A new home."

"Leave?" Rosalie blurted. "Leave Rochester?"

"Leave New York," Carlisle corrected. "Our time is growing short, regardless."

"Where?" Esme asked, her voice quiet.

"Edward and I scouted some territory in Washington State a few months ago. There's a little town, Hoquiam. The climate is ideal."

Rosalie glanced at her brother in surprise.

"Well, it will be a change," Esme said, trying to smile.

Emmett winced, ducking his head again. "I'm…I'm sorry," he said, the words tasting bitter as they left his mouth.

Carlisle nodded. "As am I. Our mistakes serve to remind us of our humanity. I suppose we can be grateful for that." He squeezed Emmett's shoulder reassuringly. "An eternity is a long time to live with such guilt. There is a time to sorrow. And there is a time to forgive. Even yourself."

The next few days were a flurry of activity as the Cullens prepared to leave Rochester. It had been decided that an overnight disappearing act from the town physician would cause too much stir. And so it was carefully leaked that due to Mrs. Cullen's health, the family had decided to move to a more temperate climate. California was the story. Rosalie had never visited California. She very much doubted she ever would.

She was relieved to find that Emmett seemed to easily put the events of the previous week behind him. He was quick to regain his boyish smile and charming, loafing posture as he followed her to the car, his arms full of trunks and hat boxes. It was only in the rare moments of silence that she would catch him with that look. He looked…old. The second he caught her staring, though, he would break into a sunny smile and plant a loud smacking kiss on her cheek.

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The dawn was just breaking when the top of the three-story white house came into view, giant trees running its length and tall, lush grasses extending almost up to the front porch. Thick forest surrounded the house on all sides, making the home's slightly peeling paint seem a starker white in contrast.

Rosalie pushed the car door open and stepped out on the dirt road.

Behind her, Emmett stood, arms crossed over his broad chest. "Well…" he said, glancing up. "It's big."

"It's lovely," Esme said, beaming at her husband as they walked up the steps. "And it would be a beautiful place for the wedding."

Emmett gave Rosalie a nudge with his shoulder. She smiled, her sharp cheekbones bending into softness.

Above them, the morning sky was a comforting, misty gray.

"See? This place was made for us!" Esme clapped delightedly. "How did you find it?"

Carlisle was pleased. "Edward found it. We took a different route towards town and came across it. It's been vacant for several years. I've inquired at the bank about purchasing the deed."

The floorboards barely squeaked as the Cullens stepped over the threshold and into the house. Directly ahead, the staircase wound up to an enormous landing.

"I'm going to pick my room before Edward takes the best view," Rosalie announced, starting up the stairs.

"Don't you mean our room, Mrs. McCarty?" Emmett said, chasing her.

"Not yet, it's not!" she squealed, trying to dodge him as he reached out to pinch her.

"You two behave!" Esme said, trying to sound stern.

"Yes, ma'am," Emmett said, saluting and trying to suppress his dimples.

Rosalie smacked him and he lifted her in his arms, carrying her up the stairs as he sang the wedding march, "Da-da-DA-da…Da-da-DA-da…Da,da,da, DA, da –dada-da-DA-DA!"

They disappeared on the second floor.

Carlisle chuckled, "I think a wedding may be in order."

"Sooner rather than later," Edward muttered.

Esme smiled, gazing out the great bay window again, "And won't it be beautiful?"

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EPILOGUE

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue," Rosalie looked around the room frantically. "What am I missing?"

"Nothing," Esme said, smoothing the gossamer veil again with soothing fingers.

"Is the minister here?"

"Yes, he's waiting in the parlor."

"And Emmett? His suit fit him?"

"Like a glove."

"Is my hair alright?"

"It's lovely!"

Rosalie stared out the window, gloomily, "It's raining. I never thought it would rain on my wedding day."

"It's Washington. It rains every day."

There was an impatient knock on the door.

"Yes, who is it?"

"Are you almost ready?" The voice sounded annoyed.

Esme opened the door, "Edward…"

Rosalie whirled to face them both, "What? What's wrong?"

"Well, other than the fact that the guests have been waiting for half an hour and the ceremony hasn't started…"

"I'll just go and make sure the refreshments are lasting," Esme said, hurrying to the stairs.

Rosalie stood looking at Edward, her face still uncertain.

Edward waited, expectantly.

"What?" she asked, crabbily.

"You want me to tell you how beautiful you look."

"Don't be ridiculous," Rosalie sniffed, tossing her hair. "I know what I look like."

"You look beautiful," Edward said, his eyes crinkling.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, before finally looking up at him, "I do?"

"You already knew that," he said, pulling the veil down over her face.

Rosalie bit her lip in a strange moment of uncertainty, "Do you…do you think Emmett will think so?"

Edward eyed her for a second, his expression unreadable. He answered, finally, reluctantly, "He'd have to be blind not to."

She opened her mouth to say something and shut it again.

He walked her slowly to the top of the stairs where Carlisle stood waiting.

She flashed him a wide, confident smile as she hooked her arm through her surrogate father's, "Regretting anything, Edward?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," he smirked, buttoning the top button of his vest as he passed her on the landing.

The opening of strains of Lohengrin came from the record player in the hallway.

Carlisle patted her hand proudly as they walked down the stairs and out into the garden where tall white canopies had been erected. The guests, mostly local townspeople curious to catch a glimpse of the doctor's strange, beautiful family, sat on either side.

All the flowers Rosalie had selected had been cut and arranged. All the ribbons and lace hung with care. Even the Parisian silk tablecloths she had long coveted. And still, all she could really seem to see was the straight path to Emmett, who stood towering over the reverend.

His eyes met hers and he grinned, still boyish despite his frame and clothes.

She tossed her head once more and someone in the crowd gasped. It was no wonder. Rosalie's figure was accentuated fully in the ivory silk gown trailing behind her for yards. Her white skin was in sharp contrast with the golden pin curls covering her head and the deep red of her mouth as it curved into the most modest smile she could manage. She had been foolish to attempt this.

Emmett straightened proudly, grasping Rosalie's hand firmly as Carlisle placed it in his own.

"Marriage," the minister began, "That most sacred union, which brings together those which God hath joined in love…the angels themselves rejoice in thee today, most lovely day…"

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Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Please review and let me know what you think of the end. Stay posted for a new story! Anyone have a story suggestion or idea, feel free to comment!