Chapter Seven

The following morning, I rolled over, oddly confused about having fallen asleep.

Someone had obviously been in to check on me, because my lamp had been turned off, and the gifts Mikah had given me now sat on my bedside table. I felt a little stupid about whoever it'd been to seeing these presents out for me to look at, but I thought about it. They understood.

It was common knowledge to everyone that I missed him. That eased my embarrassment quite a bit. Sitting up, I sighed. Instead of picking them up, though, I left them there, and reached for the stuffed turtle Zack had given me the year before for my birthday. I plucked it from the headboard of my bed, where it always sat and pulled it to me.

It bothered me that I hadn't been able to talk to him about what happened. I'd still been shaken up about what happened in New York, and he shouldn't have snuck up on me like that. I just didn't like being stuck in the middle of a fight with him.

How long did I have to make up with him? I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut. I tried not to think about it like that, but it was hard not to. Standing, I left my room, relocating in hopes of changing the way I thought.

I sat down tiredly at the end of the couch with a deep sigh. Oddly, despite the sleep I'd gotten, I felt too tired. Too warm in my own skin, like I was weighed down by a fever, and I hated it. It was still rainy this morning, but not that bad.

"How are you feeling, honey?" Esme asked from her seat beside me. Carlisle and Emmett looked over from where they sat. I wasn't sure why she would ask. I didn't wake up in the middle of the night, and I'd been out of the way for a few days. Maybe because I had been out of the way for a few days. They hadn't had the chance to ask much.

I sighed a little.

"I feel off today." I admitted quietly, rubbing my stomach with my fingers absentmindedly. Her expression opened in concern.

"Do you feel sick?"

"No," I muttered, shaking my head, "Not really sick. Just off. Weird."

"Leandra," I looked over as both Alice and Jasper descended the stairs, "I wanted to ask you about your gift."

I frowned a little, "What about it?"

"Have you worked on it?" She asked, fitting herself on the edge of the couch next to me. She smiled a little, "Have you tried to remember?" Was that what this was about?

"Alice." Carlisle spoke, obviously disapproving.

I looked down briefly before looking over at Alice, "No. I know I should have, but I've been pretty distracted. By everything."

"Any chance you can attempt to sometime soon?" She asked.

"I don't know what happens." I sighed, "If I don't know it without thinking about it, I don't want to think about it." Just like I was told to do. It must have been more important than I thought if she was going back on what she told me before like this.

"I only mean to try." She replied, "Don't push yourself, but it could be helpful to know."

"I'll try, but no promises."

"That's all we ask." She smiled again.

It fell quiet for a moment or two while I struggled to feel a little better. I thought of a question, though.

"Was it the same scent?" I asked, looking to Esme, "The one in Bella's house. Was it the same as the one in New York?"

She seemed reluctant to answer.

"No." She finally said, "No, it wasn't the same. According to Jasper," I glanced to him at her mention, "The two scents had nothing in common, which probably means they didn't even know each other."

"Oh." I mumbled. That was both confusing, and concerning. Two separate vampires, roaming where they shouldn't? Which only meant more stress for the family.

"But whoever had visited in New York hasn't been around here lately." She assured me, "So I don't think he's a threat or here to cause trouble."

"Haven't you tried talking to him?" I asked.

"That could be really dangerous." Jasper answered for her, "Truthfully, we have no idea who he is or where he came from. We don't know his intentions. We have to approach other vampires like that carefully, Leandra, and with him just as unwilling to meet with us, we're not comfortable pushing it."

"Good point." I admitted with a sigh.

"I'd just prefer to be cautious." Jasper added, "That's all." I nodded. I understood that. Why go looking for a potential fight? They had enough to worry about as it was.

I didn't have to sit there and question that for very long, thanks to the knock at the front door. Esme smiled a little, standing up.

"It's only your father." She told me, probably to keep me from worrying. Nobody seemed surprised at his arrival, though. Nobody but me.

"He's here kind of early, isn't he?" I frowned a little, "It's only eight-thirty."

"I invited him here." Carlisle spoke up, "It was a little short notice. There's a reason for this visit."

"What'd I do?" I had to ask, and Emmett chuckled.

"Always assuming you're in trouble." Emmett muttered, "Listen up, shorty. If you haven't blown anything up or killed anyone, chances are you're okay."

"You haven't done anything wrong." Carlisle assured me. I looked over as Jasper settled into the chair, Alice choosing to change her seat to the armrest of the chair Jasper had chosen instead.

I stood up myself as Esme led my dad into the room, smiling at me as she did so. My dad greeted me with a smile as well, and I felt a little embarrassed. Standing there, still in my pajamas.

"Nobody told me you were coming over." I explained, gesturing to my sleep shirt, "Or I would have gotten dressed." I couldn't help noticing the small bag he carried. I couldn't see what was inside it, but I had to admit that I was curious.

"Nah." He said, hugging me lightly, "It's fine. How are you, baby?"

"Good, I guess." I sighed, finding my seat again.

"You guess?" He asked, setting his bag to the side with a chuckle.

"I guess." I confirmed, and he chuckled again. He already seemed a lot less stressed. Actually happy today. Less stressed, but more rushed. I decided to ask, "How's Rachel?"

"Miserable." He replied, sighing as he took the seat Esme offered him, "But I certainly can't blame her. She's hanging in there, though. About a week, but I'm estimating just a few days until that kid is born. I'm surprised she's made it this far with all the stress. Of moving, and whatnot." That afterthought was thrown in for my benefit, no doubt.

"That kid?" I asked, laughing a little at his tone. I had to admit that it was funny. He was going to be 'that kid's father.

"I only say that with love." He laughed as well, "You were peanut there for weeks after you were born."

"That's still better than 'that kid'." I pointed out, "Why peanut?"

"Because that's what you looked like the first time I saw you." He explained, "Just a peanut. Not even a big peanut. Just a little tiny dot."

"That's weird." I couldn't help laughing, though. Someone who knew me before I was a full person was sitting right across from me. It felt so strange to me.

"That's sort of why I'm here." He admitted.

"To bring peanuts?"

"No." He chuckled, "I came here to see you. See, I heard that today was a pretty special occasion, so.. I came by to see you before you officially became theirs."

I suddenly caught on. Surprised, I looked over at Carlisle. He smiled a little in return. I gathered that today was the day it would become official.

I didn't know what I'd been expecting, but this surprised me. A lot. Maybe I hadn't expected for it to actually happen. Maybe I only considered it a wishful thought, but the fact that it was actually happening now surprised me.

"I take it you didn't know?" My dad asked, and almost numbly, I shook my head, "Well, nobody deserves this more than you do, kiddo." Carlisle hadn't been lying when he said my dad was supportive of it.

"You're okay with this?" I had to make sure. I needed to know.

He took a breath, "Leandra, let me tell you something." I waited as he gathered his thoughts for a moment, "Your happiness means more to me than anything in the world. I wasn't there while you were growing up."

"But that wasn't your fault-"

"Regardless of whose fault it was." He replied, "I wasn't there. You've fought, and you've fought hard to get to where you are right now. What kind of person would I be if I took you away from that?

"I only want you to be happy, Leandra. That's all I care about. It's not my place to tell you where you're happiest. I'm not losing anything, if that's what you're worried about. I'll still be here as long as you let me be. Just because you're officially theirs, doesn't mean I'm going anywhere."

Oddly, I felt like I wanted to cry.

"But look. I brought you something." My dad continued, "You, and your family." That made me feel better, "And I was wondering if you'd be willing to watch it."

"What is it?" I couldn't help noticing how quiet my voice was, and I hoped he couldn't tell how emotional I'd gotten.

"My time with you." He replied, "It's.. It's a collection of pictures and videos I've had all these years. It's something I put together myself, and it's something I thought your family should have."

"Hell yes." Emmett chuckled, reminding me of their presence, "We have to see this."

"Do I have a choice?" I asked, watching as my dad pulled his bag to his side and reached into it. Inside the bag were quite a few clear DVD cases. I didn't bother trying to count them, but I estimated about five or six of them, along with at least two photo albums.

"Nope." Emmett answered, standing. This was going to be humiliating. Not only that, but I wasn't sure I wanted to see all of this. Maybe there was a reason I didn't remember this part of my life. Maybe I just didn't want to remember.

But watching this was the least I could do. I just dreaded it. I sighed, sitting down on the armrest of the couch. Esme took the spot on the couch right beside me, which I appreciated.

Emmett took the disk he offered, and got it going. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the worst I was convinced was to come.

The video started, and I blinked in surprise. It was my mom. She stood there, her hands on her hips with a very annoyed but amused look on her face. Obviously very pregnant, and she reminded me of the way Rachel looked.

What surprised me so much was that she was upright. Annoyed, but wide awake.

My dad and I glanced to each other the second I saw her. He gave me an apologetic look, as he knew I hated her.

"Is this necessary?" She asked, obviously talking to my dad who held the camera, "Come on." She laughed.

"There has to be a before and after." Was my dad's reply, "So how pregnant are you?"

"So that's what she looks like awake." Alice commented, and I couldn't help smiling a little. Amused by that. I was glad someone was willing to joke about it.

"Amazing, isn't it?" My dad asked.

"Pregnant enough to kick your ass from here to Utah if you dare show anyone an after." My mom answered on the video, and laughed again.

"Come on." My dad chuckled along with my mom, "You're beautiful. You always will be." She rolled her eyes, but turned sideways. How was she still standing?

"I feel like a blimp." Was her reply. She sighed, and smiled a little, "Three weeks to go. Three long, agonizing weeks. You get to carry the next baby, Chris."

The date on the bottom of the video said July 6th. Almost a week before I was born.

"Aw," My dad replied to her, "But you're so good at it."

"Trying to get on my good side, are you?" She joked back.

The scene changed, to involve me the night I was born. My mom holding me. I understood, though, that there wasn't much chance of filming a new baby without managing to capture the mother as well. She looked so tired, a little more familiar to me, but she was clearly awake. I was so tiny, my fingers couldn't meet around her thumb.

The video moved on to my dad holding me. Same day, but different angle. My mom must have been holding the camera now. Wrapped securely in a soft, pink blanket, I took up hardly any space in his arm. Literally just a bundle. I hadn't realized before just how small I was, even back then.

"That can't be me." I muttered, skeptical, and he chuckled.

"I promise." He replied, "That's you. Trust me, I was there."

"I was so small." I frowned.

"Don't tell that to your mom." He joked, and gave him a look.

My dad filmed the nurses taking my vitals, and cleaning me up a little better. I hated the wipe down, but I guess I loved having my hair washed.

A few short videos of everything that happened those first few days of my life. From my first bath in the hospital, which I hated even more than the wipe down, to my dad attempting to learn how to change a diaper while my mom laughed at the face he made.

To getting ready to go home. Me just a tiny, football sized squirming thing. Me sleeping, me crying. There wasn't much that could be showed of that time, considering I was brand new.

I understood the need to show all this, but I also knew it was only going to get harder to watch. Especially as I saw a lot of my mom at first.

Following straight with me several weeks old, squirming even more, and giving my mom a big smile.

It surprised me to see how involved my mom was during that time, too. It seemed, through these videos, that they got along great. I couldn't understand how everything could go so wrong.

I got to see what I was like before Jack came into my life. How curious I was, how happy I was. Especially as I got older from there. Few weeks, turned into months, and each new video, there was progress. One featuring the tricks my dad would try to get me to stop crying when I was fine, which usually only required me being held by him. He never showed an ounce of impatience during those scenes, but he did look a little tired.

From pushing up on my arms, to rolling over from my back to my front, and back again. Sitting up. My dad and my mom made sure to document everything they could. Six months, seven months, eight months. I was getting older seemingly without a hitch.

My dad even filmed one of my check-ups, which involved getting shots. In both my legs, since my arms were probably too small. I cringed a little at that, knowing I was probably going to bawl my head off. Which, of course, I did. The two nurses which gave me the shots were very quick about it, though, allowing my mom to pick me up quickly.

It was odd for me to see how the way I cried seemed to bother her a lot. She felt bad for me, being the one to hold me after the band-aids were in place. It was the strangest thing to see. I knew it'd probably get a lot weirder from there, though.

The crawling videos were strategically put together. One where I was still getting the hang of it, and the scene after that where I seemed to be a little older, and an expert at it.

A few times, I considered getting up and taking a momentary break, especially during the first Christmas scene, but I never did.

My dad had been the one that introduced me to my first Christmas tree, holding me and singing quietly to me to the music in the background. Gently bouncing me along with it.

I looked over as Esme took my hand, probably noticing the frown on my face as I carefully avoided watching that scene. I still hated Christmas with a passion. I hated every reminder of it. I hated it so much, thanks to Jack.

The scenes moved on, thankfully.

I tried to ignore the small laughs around me. Especially from Emmett. I'd never live this down, but I did find that I was actually a little grateful that they had the chance to see this too. Even if parts of it were embarrassing.

The most embarrassing scenes had to be the ones of me in the bath. As I got bigger, that included little games my dad would play with me. Apparently, I didn't like it when he would put my bathtub toys on the edge of the tub. So I'd go around, knocking them back into the water with me or off the edge onto the floor when I failed to grab them, and he'd go back over and replace them while my mom filmed.

He was very good at distracting me, it seemed.

My mom wasn't hesitant to capture how much he meant to me, or how much I obviously meant to him. No doubt about it, I was most comfortable in his arms. Once I got old enough to care, it was easy to see.

Once I got old enough, it was also easy to see the fact that this was me. I recognized myself in the baby on the screen. My hair getting longer, no longer the wisps of dark hair it was before. I was chubby, but not overly so. Very energetic when I wasn't sleeping.

I gathered that I loved to laugh, and my dad loved making me laugh. The play times with my dad, him laying on the floor with me, and getting his face beat on by a baby me. I was hitting him hard.

"Sorry." I said, looking over at him.

He laughed, "Tough love."

The same scene, after beating on his face with my little open hands, I'd turned to a basket of toys. Even I could see my determination.

My mom's voice behind the camera laughed, "She's getting a weapon."

I couldn't help it. I laughed at that too, but I wasn't alone. Despite that, I tried to hide it. It was funny, though.

I felt strangely insecure watching these videos. I had no idea why, but at least Esme holding my hand helped. Though I could recognize myself in the baby on the screen, I felt like I was watching another person. That couldn't be me. That baby was way too happy to be me. I studied each scene individually. I was confused, and it just didn't make any sense to me.

I'd just gotten the hang of standing, signified by pictures and videos of me standing up in my crib or beside the couch, when one incident where I apparently got 'stuck' standing and giving a very irritated cry had everybody laughing. My mom was the one filming that one, asking me if I was stuck.

"How did I get stuck standing?" I asked.

"You didn't know how to sit back down yet." My dad chuckled, "It happens. You were still strengthening those muscles then."

"Oh." I muttered, looking to the screen again.

The video continued. My first birthday, and apparently, my first taste of cake. I wasn't disappointed. Walking practice to my dad.

I couldn't get over how small I was.

That walking practice progressed into typical toddler steps, waddling around like I was lost.

Me getting irritated because it was harder to stand up on the bed than it was on the floor, and I kept falling over. I'd just stand right back up again, though, and fall right back down. My diaper padded my fall, though. Along with the pillows I landed on. Babbling, or laughing and giggling when I'd fall.

The funniest one for me so far was while my mom sat there filming me. Asking me to say, 'Mama', but I could, or would only say, 'Dada'.

It moved on from there to talking, mostly babbling, but I could understand myself a little more. I couldn't remember ever seeing a happier baby while my dad was on the floor playing with me. Letting me run around, climbing on him. Cuddling a wildly squirming and giggling me.

On the video, my mom's comment actually got me to laugh again.

"I.." She paused, "Am the sole owner of a madhouse."

I found myself wishing I could remember this. If I could remember myself this way, it would make my life so much easier. But then I thought about it. If I could remember myself this way, how much I'd changed would probably just depress me.

One particular video had me paying closer attention. It was my dad filming me at the park, but I got a few decent glimpses of someone I recognized.

"That's Zack." I was so surprised, looking over. He chuckled.

"Sure is." He replied, "Josh is around there somewhere. He's probably off finding bugs to eat or something." I wasn't sure why this surprised me so much. I'd been told I'd known them when we were babies, but actually seeing it was different.

I continued watching. Zack running after me, a sippy cup clutched in his arm. I wasn't even two yet, and I'd known Zack. So it really hadn't been made up.

During the same scene, a younger looking Heather scooped both Zack and I up into her arms. Zack in her left arm, me in her right, and I slapped her. Not in an angry way, but more of an unsure way. I hadn't been expecting it, startled into just plopping my hand against her cheek. It didn't seem like I hit her hard, but the sound was loud.

I winced a little where I sat watching, but she wasn't mad at me for that, laughing along with my dad. It obviously hadn't hurt her as she kissed my hand in return.

"Heather was like a second mother to you." My dad decided to explain, "We met up at the park so often, it was bound to happen." That really made me see what she was talking about when she kept telling me how much I'd meant to her, "And you got along so well with her boys, it was safe to consider them almost brothers."

I watched as Zack squirmed free, running off as soon as his feet hit the dirt, but I stayed there. More than content where I was. I looked to the camera, grinning.

"You loved being held." My dad explained again, "You were always looking for arms to pick you up, or a free lap to hold you." I looked down. That certainly wasn't the case anymore. That made me sad, "You lived for affection. Probably because you got it all the time."

I looked back up at the video on the screen in time to witness a much tinier Josh stealing Zack's cup, and taking a drink.

"What's mom doing?" I asked, looking over at him, "Wasn't she there too?"

"She was back at home." He replied, "She was never really one for the park. She'd go, but not until much later. Gina didn't even meet Heather until sometime after you turned two, and they got to talking. I'd been taking you to this park regularly since you were about a year old. I just never thought to film it until now." He gestured to the screen.

The me in the video obviously wanted down, so I watched as Heather set me on my feet. I walked right up to Josh and stole the cup from him. Without remorse, like I owned it.

Josh, probably roughly three years old, didn't approve of that, but he didn't cry. Just pouted toward his mom, on the very verge of tears.

"Bam." Emmett commented with a laugh, "That's mine."

"Now I feel bad." I said.

"Oh, he'd stolen enough things from you." My dad assured me, "I wouldn't feel too bad."

I was a little disappointed as the scene changed. I wanted to see what happened.

It only switched to another park scene, with me in a baby swing, just thrilled at swinging back and forth. I kept looking to my right, and I soon figured out why. Josh's little voice from off the screen in the direction I was looking was requesting to go higher. He must have been on the swing next to me.

"I definitely have to show him this." I laughed a little, unable to help it.

"I have no doubt that Heather would want to see this too." My dad replied, "I don't think she got much video of her boys back then, so this would be a treat."

The video continued.

The battle of learning how to use a plastic fork began. It opened with my dad pointing to a bit of food he wanted me to stab. I smacked it with my hand instead, but he kept trying. So I picked it up with my hand, and looked up at him. I could just tell by the look on my face what would become of that little piece of food.

"Uh-oh." I knew what was coming, and apparently, everyone else did too.

On the video, we watched as I tossed the bit of food in my hand over the side of my highchair, then leaned over to look at it. It hit the floor with a very amusing 'plop' sound, which had me laughing.

The next fork attempt was filmed by my mom, and I'd obviously gotten feeding myself down. I could feed myself if I was handed the fork the right way.

It was getting the food on the fork, and the fork into the right position that was the problem. It was stabbing something myself, then getting my hand and mouth to cooperate with each other that I just couldn't get down. Obviously after much practice, a different scene came on.

This particular scene had both Esme and Alice both nearly melting in their seat and Emmett laughing by how "cute" it apparently was.

I was trying to stab whatever soft food was in the bowl in front of me, muttering, "Uh-oh." The whole time. I looked up at my mom off camera, and asked, "Like that? Yeah?"

"You got it." My mom had told me, "Keep trying." When I managed to stab it, holding it up, she spoke again, "Good job. Now eat."

I tried. Unfortunately, the cooked carrot I'd stabbed fell off the fork mid attempt, and landed in my lap. Causing a very like-me pout to form and I huffed.

"She still makes that face." Emmett pointed out, and I glared at him.

"Try again." My mom was telling me on the video, so I stuck my free hand in the bowl. Frustrated with the fork. I picked up a carrot and squeezed it, causing her to have to clean my hand with a paper towel.

Thankfully, the scene changed. I was feeling sick by how cute they thought that was.

The scenes became more interesting. I'd obviously started talking by then, and could answer certain questions. My mom would 'interview' me, just asking me questions and getting me to answer them. What color is this, what is that, what do I think about this or that. Easy questions for me to answer. Probably to document how smart I apparently was for my dad while he worked.

I liked tomatoes and bananas, but I didn't peppers and onions that much.

I obviously wasn't too smart, though, because the next scene was me attempting to crawl after a wayward toy that had rolled under a small chair, and getting stuck there, because I couldn't move forward anymore, or figure out how to back up without my back getting trapped by the chair.

I face-palmed, shaking my head, but everyone else laughed as little me began to squall on the video. My dad thankfully rescued me by lifting up the chair, but I continued to cry, even after I was free. My crying only stopped when I made my way over to where my dad had sat back down. He picked me up, sitting me on his lap and holding me.

I did notice how I wasn't the slightest bit uncomfortable on his lap.

"Was I really that stupid?" I asked.

"You weren't even two yet." My dad reasoned, "That had to be terrifying. That thing tried to eat you."

"Scarier than getting stuck standing." I muttered, continuing to watch as he smirked.

Petting zoos, more 'interviews', more food throwing, but I could see I was getting smarter. More bathtub games, more laughter than I knew what to do with.

My second birthday was just about as interesting as my first. Even more so, because it was spent at the Aquarium in Seattle. Majority of the time, sitting on my dad's shoulders while he playfully argued with a seal. After the Aquarium, it was off to a restaurant. I got less cake on my face than I had on my first birthday, though, which was promising, but more ice cream.

By now, it was easy to see how much personality I had. I wasn't just a baby anymore, but a little person. Grinning at my dad, poking his nose with a finger full of ice cream. It wasn't just me I got to know, though. I saw more of my parents than I had for the entire rest of my life until now. I got to know them, and what kind of people they had been. Everything had been great back then. At least, from what I saw on the video.

Again, I wondered. How could everything go so wrong? It had been just over an hour of video, documenting pretty much every little amazing moment worth catching in the first two years of my life so far.

We'd seen everything. From the day I was born, to now, and I never saw one problem. However, I reasoned with myself, there could have been so much more going on than film could catch.

I found I wasn't tired of watching yet, and given the smiles around me, nobody else was either. Esme, least of all. She seemed the most fascinated of everyone.

As I got closer to two and a half years, I grew so much in those months.

My first "real" bed instead of a crib, displayed by video showing me hopping and flopping around on it excitedly. More rough-housing with my dad. Getting tickled, flopping around on him while he laid on the floor. Lifting me with his arms, and tossing me gently in the air before laying me across his stomach and tickling my stomach. 'Horse rides' with him making me lose my grip but catching me with one arm before I could hit the floor.

Bedtime stories, mostly interpreted by myself, and more cuddling with him. I'd show off how I could get out of my clothes. Then, while running around in my diaper, I'd ask my mom to help me put my clothes right back on, tossing my clothes at her with a pointed, "Here go." Which, of course, she'd help me with. I gathered that I liked to do that a lot back then.

There was so much to those first two years, it was amazing to see just how good my life had been.

However, I did start to notice a slight change in myself. Maybe because I just knew myself. Or because I knew what to look for, but I wasn't sure if anyone else could see a difference.

I soon realized why.

The next video that faded in, and I watched, smiling a little at a much smaller version of me. I looked less like a baby now. More like a small child. I could see myself more easily in the toddler on the screen.

The green of my eyes, and my hair that had grown out quite a bit, held out of my face by a little clip. I still had the same dark auburn hair color I had back then. It surprised me, like I'd expected that to change for some reason. It was a lot shorter than I ever remembered my hair being, which was interesting to see on me.

In this scene, I was sitting at the kitchen table. Paper in front of me, and a bucket of crayons to my right. The camera sat still, so he must have set it down to tape me, as he sat off the screen. Given where I looked when he'd speak, that was true.

He asked me things while I colored, which I'd answer. In the normal small child kind of confusing way. I didn't remember this. I was surprised at how well I actually spoke. Most two year olds couldn't pronounce certain things right, but I didn't seem to have any problems speaking. Compared to previous scenes, I had to have been closer to two and a half than two, though.

"Leandra?" I heard my dad's voice on the video, "What are you coloring?"

"You, daddy." Little me answered in an incredulous way. As if it should have been obvious, "It's not that hard."

"It's not?" He asked in return, and I shook my head.

"No." I'd said calmly, "I can do it." I had to kneel up in the chair to peer into the bucket of crayons on the table next to me for another color.

"What are we doing?" He asked little me.

"We went to the park." I had replied simply, "But it's not raining this time." I tapped the paper with my little finger.

"Does it rain a lot?"

"A lot." I answered with a little laugh, emphasizing the 'T', "But that's okay. I don't care." It was very hard to believe this was only eight years ago. The voice I heard on the video was a very much younger and smaller version of mine. It really hadn't changed that much, but I'd obviously gotten better at speaking.

"Can I see your drawing?" He'd asked, and I'd pouted a little, shaking my head as I'd covered the page with my little hands, looking up at him with big eyes.

"No." I'd told him firmly, "It's not done yet. Wait a minute, okay?" He laughed.

"Okay." He told me, and it got quiet while I concentrated.

"Daddy?" Little me inquired while I scribbled.

"Yes, baby?" He asked, and I knew he had chosen that little nickname for me long ago.

"I miss you." I mumbled, and abruptly, I got sad as I sat there on the armrest of the couch. I could hear in my voice how much that was true. I realized then. This must have been after they separated. That made this a lot more depressing, because I knew what happened after that. The divorce, and I never saw him again.

I fidgeted a little where I sat on the armrest, not looking forward to the rest of this scene very much. My dad glanced to me, and I glanced to him, both of us knowing it. He offered a small, sad smile, but I couldn't return it. I knew by his attempt at a smile that I was right. This was probably one of the last videos he had of me.

I looked back to the TV, to continue to watch the video.

"I know." He told little me, "I miss you too. If I could be around all the time, I would."

"I don't like him."

"Who?"

"Jack." His name coming from my little voice bothered me. A lot. I stood up, hesitating beside the couch. Just in case it got to be too much for me. Why didn't I remember this? What else didn't I remember? Esme squeezed my hand, which made it easier to breathe.

"Why not, baby?" He'd asked me, "Why don't you like Jack?" I watched my own face carefully. It changed very slightly. My small smile faded, and I didn't say anything at first as I bit my lip. It could have been in concentration over my drawing, but I knew better.

"'Cause." I'd mumbled in answer when he asked again.

My dad's voice grew suspicious on the video, "Is he mean to you?"

"No." I'd answered, and maybe at the time it'd been mostly true, "But.. But.. I want you, daddy. Why can't I go with you, daddy? Why can't I?" My little voice had been so pleading, so confused. I couldn't imagine how much that had hurt him if it hurt me hearing it now.

"That'd make mommy very sad." He told me, "I don't like making mommy sad."

"Oh." I'd mumbled, distracted again by coloring, "But aren't you sad, daddy?"

"It's complicated, baby." He sighed, "But yes. I'm very sad."

"I don't care if she's sad." I'd admitted, and little me smiled, "I don't want you to be sad. Don't be sad, daddy."

I hadn't even realized how hard I cried now until I had to sniffle. It bothered me a lot to know that even back then, I knew my dad would have been the better choice. Much better, knowing how much he cared about me. How much I missed him, and how much their divorce had cost me. To know that I was the one losing, to know that I was still dealing with the consequences of that today was why I cried now.

On the video, the conversation wound down.

"Baby?" My dad asked me.

"Yeah, daddy?" I'd replied.

"I love you."

"I love you." I returned, continuing on with my coloring. Not even realizing the importance of those words. How I should have held onto them.

The final scene was the hardest. I continued to stand there, hesitantly watching. We were outside a building. I didn't recognize the building at first, but with looking closer, I realized it was the police station in town.

My dad was holding me close in his arms, talking to me quietly while I quietly listened to him. Even I could see how sad I looked, my head hung while he spoke.

My mom was obviously filming us, but beside where my mom stood filming, I heard his voice. Jack's voice, asking her if she was ready to go home yet. I suddenly had to fight the urge to throw up, listening to his voice so clearly close to the camera.

Sitting back down nervously, right back down beside Esme, I couldn't look away. Moments later, Jack could be seen walking away from my mom. His eyes on me and my dad as he moved slowly to the other side of us.

I watched my dad glance to Jack, before vaguely hearing my dad tell me to give him a hug. Immediately, little me did as he asked, and hugged his neck tight. He returned it while Jack stood there, watching. Oddly, he was patient.

"He even still looks the same." I mumbled bitterly.

Once the hug between my dad and I was out of the way, though, Jack stepped closer and lifted me. Pulling me away from my dad, and as I started to cry on the video, I cried again now. My dad had to take a moment, hesitating on the video until he sighed.

Seeing me sitting in Jack's arm like that bothered me even more than hearing his name. On the video, little-me abruptly stopped crying, looking to Jack briefly before looking to my mom. The look in my eyes was one I recognized even more.

Jack allowed my dad to kiss my cheek, and my dad told me to be good, and that he loved me. With that, he turned, and he walked away.

That must have been the last time my dad saw me, and that realization only increased my tears now, because I remembered later on. I remembered being so confused, wondering why I never saw him. I remembered my entire life, wishing I could remember him, and wishing he'd come back for me.

It hurt.

Why did this hurt me so much? Because I knew first hand what it meant to lose him. Thankfully, nobody made fun of me for crying like this. It was like reopening old wounds I'd forgotten about. Knowing how I was now, and seeing how happy I used to be, it was like a very jarring slap in the face.

"Say bye to your daddy, Leandra." Jack's condescending voice on the video caused a tremble to roll through me now, and I hated it. My teeth clenched in hate as I watched through falling tears. I watched as Jack looked to the camera along with me. It was very clear I didn't like where I was, but maybe it was just me that noticed.

How small I was compared to Jack, how easily he held me and how little room I took up in his arm bugged me. His hand took my little hand, holding it in his fingers as my mom moved closer. The pout on my little face should have told her everything she needed to know. The look in my teary green eyes should have told her.

"He'll never take you again." Jack told me, "Never. I'll make sure of that."

And he did make sure of that.

"Never." My mom agreed. Releasing my hand, Jack reached forward and took the camera from her, while handing me to her. She took me from him, holding me now while Jack filmed her.

She cuddled me close, kissing my cheek and smoothing my hair from my face. Little me hugged her then, wrapping my arms around her neck. I was fearful, and I was confused. Even I could see that.

The video ended, and I closed my eyes, shaking my head as my dad stopped it.

"Gina was kind enough to send me that video a week later." My dad told me during the silence in the room, "And that was the last time I heard from her. I don't know if she has any others of you. She certainly never sent me any. I never even got an update letter about you. I can't tell you how many times I've watched that clip."

I couldn't reply. I could only cry now.

"Leandra," My dad spoke again after a few seconds, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No." I cried, "It wasn't you. It was him. I know what happened after that. It's not fair."

"I didn't know." He told me, "I know I didn't like him, but then again, that could have been because he was with my wife, and if that was the case, I had no right whatsoever to be jealous. I had no choice but to trust your mom's judgement. How wrong I was for doing that. We were divorced the following week, and she couldn't have even been bothered to show up. Just like that, it was all over, and I'd lost." Once more, I couldn't speak. I looked over at him.

"I know." He said, without me even having to say anything, "I'm not.. I didn't show you that to try to change your mind. All I ask.. Is just please, please never doubt just how much I love you, Leandra. I love you more than you can ever possibly know."

And by seeing the unshed tears in his eyes, threatening every second to fall, I knew he was telling me the truth. As if my tears made him want to cry.

I closed my eyes around more tears, gasping a few sobs.

"I know." He told me quietly.

I knew this was hurting him just as much. I could hear it in his voice, and I could just feel it. I opened my eyes, and looked over, meeting Carlisle's eyes this time. Even through my tears, he had to see how much this meant to me. Given his gentle nod, he understood.

It wasn't ideal, but this was the way it was supposed to be. Some things might have changed this time around, but this wasn't going to change. I knew it, and my dad knew it.

It took me quite awhile to calm down, but when I did, I felt better. Like crying about it had helped me. Minimally, but it helped. I appreciated my dad bringing these videos here today. I was actually glad he did.

"Thank you." I told him when I could, "For showing me these."

He smiled sadly, "I just wanted you to have them." He reached down, into the bag beside him and lifted out the rest of the DVDs, "The rest of these discs have everything on them. The video I put together, the one you just watched, the scenes and clips were shortened. Just to save time and to save space, I only put in a handful of videos I have, but all of these have everything."

I nodded a little. Emmett reached forward and took them from him. Probably to set them to the side for me.

"I wish I could remember just a little bit of that." I admitted, "But I don't."

"Well, that's what these are for." He replied, handing Emmett the photo albums, "To make sure you never forget." I smiled a little, looking down.

I looked back up, though, as my dad's phone rang. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled it out.

He laughed a little, "It's Rachel. Mind?"

"No." I replied honestly, "Go ahead."

"She probably wants more strawberries." He sighed, answering it, "Yes, honey?" I laughed a little at his tone. He waited, listening. His slight smile faded though. Concern replacing it, "You're sure? It could be those fake things again." I heard her voice from where I sat, so she must be yelling at him. I winced as he winced a little.

"Okay." He told her, his tone much calmer than hers had been clearly, "Where is Lily? Is she-" He cut off as she obviously answered him. He sighed, "Okay. Just calm down. Yeah, I'll be right there." He stood up as he was saying that. Hanging up a few seconds later, he looked to me, "I guess I'm going to have to cut this visit short."

"Is everything okay?" I asked, worried. I didn't exactly approve of Rachel calling him just to yell at him like that. Esme's smile should have given it away, though.

He chuckled, "Guess we're having a baby today."

I blinked in surprise, until I remembered how to nod. Oh.

"Go ahead." I told him again, "Thanks for coming, and.. Thanks for the videos."

He kissed the top of my head as he passed, giving his goodbyes to everyone as Carlisle walked him to the door.

"Chris." Esme called as she stood up. I didn't pay much attention to them as they left, but I looked over at Emmett's chuckle.

"Ironic, isn't it?" He asked, and I frowned a little.

"What?"

"The day he comes by to show you what you, his first baby, was like as a baby, his next baby decides to be born." Thinking about it, he was right. That was kind of funny. I laughed a little as he chuckled again, "Sibling rivalry, much?"

"I guess." I shrugged a little. Alice smiled a little and stood up as well.

"Go get dressed, Leandra." Alice told me, and I looked over, "Esme's volunteering you to keep Lily company at the hospital."

"Aw." I whined, "I don't want to do that. She bugs me."

"Just lay off the whole scaring her thing." She went on as if I hadn't spoken, "It'll go a whole lot smoother that way."

I groaned and laid back, "I don't want to."

I should have known better than to attempt getting out of it, though. Alice was far more stubborn than I was.

There I sat half an hour later in the very uncomfortable plastic seat in the hospital waiting room. Lily was bouncing around the space around me, just excited beyond belief. Alice was with me, thankfully.

Probably because they didn't trust me, a ten-year-old, to watch a six-year-old on my own, and Esme and Carlisle were busy. As much as I appreciated Alice's company, I was still annoyed. There were a whole bunch of toys in the corner of the waiting room, but Lily refused to give them a second look.

"Can I please hog-tie her and throw her into traffic?"

"Knock it off." Alice sighed, "The doctor is saying at least a few hours, so sit tight."

"I don't see why it's going to take so long. Can't Rachel just squeeze it out and be done with it?" To my surprise, Alice laughed. I wasn't trying to be funny, but she found it amusing.

"It doesn't exactly work like that." She replied, "These things take time."

"What's so hard about it?" I asked. She laughed again, shaking her head. I had a feeling she wasn't about to go over it with me, so I thought of a new question.

"Can't we just take Lily back to our house?" I frowned, watching Lily run by. Her fourth lap around the row of chairs we were sitting in.

"Rachel requested that she be here." Alice replied, "And I certainly can't blame her for wanting Lily close at a time like this. Lily will tire herself out soon."

I sighed, waiting for Lily to run by again before leaning forward and grabbing a magazine to look at. Alice seemed perfectly fine with just sitting there, watching whatever show was on the muted TV across the room.

To the right, I watched as an unfamiliar guy came in. Not even looking at me as he sat down and rubbed his face in a stressed manner. He was obviously having a bad day. I looked back down at the magazine in my hands before he could notice me watching him. I didn't exactly want to be caught staring.

After three more passes from Lily, however, I was getting even more fed up. So when I saw my opportunity, I took it. Sticking my foot out just as Lily went to run by again. Naturally, her foot hit my foot, and she hit the floor.

I couldn't help laughing at the sound she made when she hit the floor. It was too funny not to.

"Leandra." Alice scolded, obviously very unhappy with what I'd done.

"Whoops." I said to Lily as she started to cry, "See what you get when you run around?" Lily was far from pleased herself, pushing herself up. Alice stood, kneeling beside her to help her up.

"Why would you do that?" Alice asked, looking to me.

"It was her own stupid fault." I replied defensively, "She shouldn't be running like that. I didn't even know she was right there." Lie.

She sighed heavily, "Just.. Stay here, okay? Don't move from this spot."

Landing on the rough carpet the way she had, Lily's palms and knees had been scraped open, and I assumed Alice was taking her to the bathroom to rinse off the scrapes.

Well, I thought, if there's one place best to get injured, it's a hospital. There was like a million nurses on this floor alone. It might not be as big as other hospitals, but it was enough to find band-aids in every direction.

"Fine." I grumbled. I didn't care, as long as Alice didn't make me be the one to help the little runt. I watched her turn around, leaving the room with Lily beside her.

"That your sister?" I looked over at someone's conversational question. Across the room, in the group of seats against the wall, I spotted the guy that had come in just a few minutes before. His longer brown hair was swept back, and his light brown eyes held a friendly expression in them. He smiled a little.

Looking closer, he looked like he was not only having a bad day, but a bad week or month. I'd come to recognize the look of stress thoroughly by now.

"Both of them are." I answered quietly.

"I see." He chuckled a little, "I saw that, you know. That was on purpose."

"So?" I muttered, "She deserved it."

"Your secret's safe with me." He assured me, "But you know, I bet you would get along great with my daughter. She can't stand her little sister sometimes." I smiled a little at the way he said that. This guy didn't seem so bad. He was a dad, and he had two daughters. He was keeping his distance, so I wasn't that wary yet.

He smiled again, "How old are you?"

"Ten." I replied, and he nodded.

"Are your parents here?"

"My, uh.." I paused, looking for the right words, "My dad's wife is having a baby. I have to be here to keep Lily, the one I tripped, company so she doesn't bug them."

"Lily, huh?" He asked and I nodded, "Such a pretty name. What's yours?"

"Leandra." I answered, "And you?"

"Me?" He asked, "Oh. Yeah, of course. You can call me Robert." He leaned forward and reached his hand out for mine. Hesitantly, I took it, "Nice to meet you."

"You too." I replied as he pulled his hand back, "Is your wife here?"

"Oldest daughter." He corrected lightly, "She wants nothing to do with me at the moment." He gave a short laugh, "Just her mom."

"How old is she?"

"Eighteen." He replied, "I just thought I'd come in here for a short breather. It's a lot better sitting in here than standing around and pacing."

"How old is your other daughter?" He'd mentioned another daughter.

"Kasey is nine, and Julie is six and a half." He nodded, "Both of them are with their grandparents, but they should be on their way soon."

I nodded a little this time. The way he was giving these answers made me believe him. He wasn't hesitant at all to answer my questions, and he certainly didn't make me consider him to be a liar. I was usually very good at being able to tell. Something in a liar's tone would give them away or the way they'd pause for just a little too long, but him, he didn't have that something in his tone.

"Lily is six." I muttered, "I bet they know each other from school."

"Probably." He smiled, "I wouldn't doubt it." I fell quiet for a moment, looking down at my shoes. He spoke up again, "Say, do you know your way around here?"

"Sort of." I admitted, shrugging.

"Do you know where the closest vending machine is?" He asked, "Or the cafeteria? I've been here since eight this morning, and haven't had a thing to eat all day." I knew that feeling. I was pretty hungry myself.

"Um.." I turned a little, looking around, "I don't know where the cafeteria is, but I think there's some vending machines up the hall a little ways." It was hard to describe where they were, but I knew we'd passed a group of them somewhere. If his daughter was here, I could easily see how worry would make him overlook something like that.

"Mind showing me the way?" He asked. I hesitated. He could probably find his way on his own, but I reasoned. He was just hungry, and probably didn't want to wander around lost, or bother a nurse to ask. I was bored out of my mind anyway. Why not?

"Sure." I finally sighed, standing up. He stood up with me, and moved to follow me. He was a pretty big guy, as I had to actually look up at him to see his face. I led the way from the waiting area, and turned left up the hall. Back the way I'd first come with Alice.

He followed me, walking along beside me for a moment or two. Our steps echoing on the shiny linoleum floor.

"I appreciate this." He eventually told me with a laugh, "I know your sister told you to stay there."

"No problem." I said, "She'll get over it. I just have to remember exactly where they are." We came to another hall. This hall crossed the one we were in, and went in another direction.

"Ah." He spoke up, "There they are." To the right, up the other hall a little ways, I could just see one of the vending machines. I was glad he was looking around. I would have missed them.

"Thank you." He smiled again.

"You're welcome." I replied, nodding a little and watching as he left my side. I watched after him for a moment, before I figured he could find his way back on his own. I turned, heading back toward the waiting area, just as Alice rounded the corner ahead of me. Lily beside her.

She sighed and stopped, obviously relieved but giving me an incredulous look. I made it to her side, and she instantly hugged me.

"You can't wander off like that." She told me, "I told you to stay there."

"I was just showing someone where the vending machines are." I explained. She didn't need to flip out.

"Wandering off with some stranger?" She asked, "Really?"

"Nobody is going to try to steal me inside a hospital." I shook my head, "That'd be stupid. Besides. This is the baby floor. Don't they watch this one really close?"

"Come on." She grumbled, turning me around and leading me up the hall, "Leandra, you have to be careful."

"Yeah." Lily muttered, smoothing the large band-aid over the heel of her palm, "You have to be careful, Leandra." I ignored her.

"I'm tired of being careful." I admitted, "I'm tired of being afraid of everyone, and he didn't even try to steal me. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" She asked, laughing humorlessly.

"Yeah." I replied, "I do."

She sighed, obviously letting it drop as she led me back into the waiting area.

"Just be careful." She told me, "You don't know who you can trust. Especially lately, okay?"

"Okay, okay." I mumbled, sitting down, "I just wanted to help him out. He seemed really nice."

"You tripped me." Lily accused me, and I finally looked over at her.

"You tripped yourself." I told her, "I didn't do anything." She huffed, crossing her arms and looking away. Sighing herself, Alice took the open seat to my right. Placing herself between the waiting area door and us.

"Leandra?" Lily seemed to have forgiven me already, "Where do babies come from?"

Alice looked over, but she had no reason to worry. I wasn't about to get into that with her. I didn't even want to think about it myself. I knew just enough about the whole thing to know that a six year old shouldn't know what I know.

"The store, stupid." I muttered, picking up the magazine I'd discarded earlier, "They come here to make a deal with the doctor over how much the baby should cost. They call it, 'having a baby' but what they mean is, 'having to pay for a baby'. It's just easier to say it that way. Haven't you ever heard them say that a baby costs a lot?"

"Oh." She said, nodding a little. Then she thought about it, "But then what is in mommy's belly? Why did she get all big?"

"That's just gas."

"Oh." She said again. Shaking her head, Alice focused on her own magazine.

Time passed slowly for me, still bored out of my mind. Sitting there, pretending to read the stupid magazine open in my lap, I couldn't help letting my mind wander. I thought back to the video I'd seen, and that took the focus of my thoughts.

Exactly how different would I be now if my dad had been the one to raise me? Would I have been like Lily when I was six years old? Would I be so mean now?

I knew for a fact that I wouldn't know Alice, or any of my family. I would have been just like any normal kid my age. I could probably have walked right by them, and they wouldn't have even known the difference or looked twice. Even if I did have my gift, or ability.

I gave up pretending to read, slouched in the plastic seat. Staring across the room at the brick wall.

Would this other me, the one that had been raised by my dad, even known I had any sort of gift or ability? Would I have even known it was there if I hadn't had to use it all the time? Would I even have had the 'sixth sense', as I considered it for so long, to know how to stay away from trouble?

All these questions were really interesting to think about. How would now have changed for me then? Probably way more than it already had. I suddenly felt curious. Where was I now back in the vision? What was I doing then?

A slight bit of pain discouraged me from attempting to fetch that memory. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't remember much of anything. All that I knew, was the way everything now, learning what I'd learned so far about the situation with my family, felt familiar. Like it had happened last time too.

In the oddest way, it felt a little like retracing steps. I could only go as far as the now in the vision went. Other than that, I couldn't tell for sure where it went. I just felt things.

I sat there for probably an entire silent hour. I knew Alice and Lily were talking, and she was trying to keep Lily busy, but I wasn't paying any attention. Just stuck in my thoughts, instead of focusing any attention on where I was.

"Why's it taking so long?" Lily whined. I was surprised she waited so long to ask that. I finally felt like being shaken from my thoughts.

"They have to wait for it to be delivered." I muttered, looking down at the magazine again. This thing was getting boring. I needed a new one. Alice actually laughed to herself at that one. I added, "And the delivery people are on their break."

"Well, they need to hurry up." Lily muttered, "I wanna see the new baby."

"Trust me, you're going to hate it." I said.

Briefly, I decided to give a look around. Where had Robert gone? He never came back from the vending machine area. Maybe his daughter finally wanted to see him, and he didn't have to come back here. Oddly, I wasn't the slightest bit suspicious. I automatically thought that something else had come up.

"Why?" Lily asked, looking up at me with a frown.

I didn't know what it was. Maybe it was the smell of the hospital, or how bored I was. Maybe I'd reached the level of nauseous annoyance, but my stomach ached in a very unpleasant way. Turning, and I literally had to question if I was going to throw up or not.

"Why, Leandra?" Lily asked again when I didn't answer. I sighed heavily, looking over at her.

"If it's anything like you," I replied, "It's going to bug you. You can't play with babies like you can with other kids. You have to wait until it grows up a little before you do that."

How the hell I even knew this, I wasn't sure. I'd never been around a baby in my life. I wanted to add in how our dad and Rachel was just replacing her with the new baby, but I thought twice about that. The last thing I wanted to do was add to my annoyance again, and her crying annoyed the living hell out of me.

I looked over in the other direction, Lily jumping up as my dad stepped through the open doors to the waiting area with a sigh.

"Is it here, daddy?" Lily demanded instantly the second she hugged him, "Where is it?"

"Not yet, Lil." He replied, "But soon. I promise. I came to check on you, though. How are you doing?"

"I'm bored." She said flatly, "And I wanna see mommy." She obviously didn't get that her mommy was extremely busy. What part of 'busy' did she not get? I wanted to smack her.

"You can't right now." My dad sighed, lifting her, "But she told me to tell you that she loves you bunches, and that she can't wait to see you."

"Oh, gag." I grumbled under my breath, looking to the muted TV. Alice elbowed me lightly, and I glanced to her.

Honestly, I didn't know why I was so bitter about being here. I was happy for them, and was quite interested to see the baby myself, but that didn't make me feel any better.

"I just want to go home." I whispered to Alice, "I'm bored and I don't feel good. I didn't even want to come here." Which was actually true. I wasn't making it up. My stomach had felt iffy all day. Since I first woke up, and being here was just making it worse.

"Just hang on." She whispered back, "A little longer."

"I really don't feel good." I stressed.

"It'll pass."

I groaned, laying back for a moment, before I sat upright again, "Then give me some money for the vending machines."

"Good idea." She nodded a little, pulling her small purse to her, "You're probably just hungry. Go there, but come right back."

"I will." I muttered.

"No pit stops, Leandra." She stressed, "If I didn't need to talk to your dad, I'd go with you, but-"

"I get it." I snapped, "Just-"

"Here." She snapped, much gentler than I had, "Not too much junk." Handing me the money I wanted, she sighed. I stood up immediately and moved for the door. My dad watched after me, but I didn't hear him ask.

I felt bad about five steps away from the waiting area. I hadn't meant to snap at her like that, but I usually got grouchy when I didn't feel well. That should have been proof enough.

And weren't vending machines full of nothing but junk? I'd see when I got there. Actually looking over my choices, though, I frowned a little. I didn't know what I wanted.

I didn't hear anyone come into the area, but suddenly, the space next to me became occupied. Too close to be considered a stranger, as a stranger wouldn't get this close to me. I was about to move away, but froze as a rough hand found my far shoulder. This hand pulled me into the stranger's side, drawing a startled whimper from me and pinning me in place harshly.

"One wrong move." I couldn't remember how to breathe, "I'd be just as happy to stab you in the neck right here, but you're needed alive."

My breath continued to stick in my throat. Only one question managed to squeeze through my petrified thoughts. How the fuck did Ken find me?

"New baby, huh?" He spoke quietly, "Wouldn't want anything to happen to her, would we?" I did everything possible to keep the sob back. He knew more than I wanted to dare give him credit for. Jack had hinted at knowing people in town, given his threats against where Carlisle worked, but I hadn't expected this.

"You and I.." He paused, "We're going outside. Just stay calm, and you get to live. Stay calm, and all this can stop. Right now, it can all stop. Don't run from me. Come on. Be brave."

Giving a glance around, he reached down and lifted me.

"Cry all the fuck you want." He murmured, pretending to kiss my forehead, "But keep it quiet, and if you fight me, just once, I'll cut your pretty fucking head off before anyone can reach your stupid ass." I was thankful for the fact that I could cry, because I honestly couldn't hold it back.

Between us, from a pocket inside his coat, he showed me just the thick handle of a folded knife. I knew exactly what that was, as I'd learned what they looked like long ago, but that just made it harder to stop crying. Crying too hard, but knowing not to make a sound. It was a very intense battle.

I couldn't call for Alice, because even she couldn't get there in time to keep him from damaging me. I wouldn't get a full word out before he'd take action. He wanted to do it. I could hear that in his tone, and it scared me. Petrified me into silence.

I hadn't been gone long enough for Alice to come check on me herself. I hadn't even been standing there thirty seconds before he'd closed in. She didn't know what scent was a bad one. She probably had no idea. It literally only took seconds for everything to go so horribly wrong.

I was stuck. Doomed. I opened my eyes enough to look around me for a possible way out of this.

To my surprise, though, I spotted Robert. He was still there, talking with the nurses at the front desk. None of those nurses seemed to think anything was off with Ken holding me. Even going so far as to give him a sympathetic smile.

Robert recognized me as much as I recognized him, though, standing up straighter as Ken approached with me. Sitting in front of Robert, was a clipboard of paperwork he was working on.

"Hey." Robert greeted me, but I couldn't say anything. Unfortunately for him, Ken had to slow, "What's the matter, kid?" I didn't say anything, glancing to Ken as he adjusted my weight in his arm. Robert frowned in concern as he looked to Ken, "Is she okay?"

"She's tired." Ken explained, "She's had a long day so far, so my son thought she needed a break." I could tell by Ken's tone, even through my fear, that he didn't know Robert.

"Ah." Robert nodded a little, looking to me again, "Must have gotten into trouble for that stunt with your sister." I didn't bother trying to answer.

"Yeah." Ken replied, "Yeah, that'd be it. I'm just taking her home. She needs to unwind a little." My heart pounded now.

"C-Can you tell my sister.." I spoke hesitantly, pausing both out of fear and for emphasis as I glanced to Ken as his intense gaze landed on me, "That I'm sorry?"

I knew if he were to tell Lily that, Alice would hear. She'd know something was wrong when I had some stranger tell Lily instead of saying it myself. Especially when I wasn't back yet to do so. All he would have to mention to her was that he saw me, and that would be enough to make her come check on me.

"I'll pass on the message." Robert agreed, and I nodded. Ken wasn't pleased. Turning with a chuckle toward the elevators.

"Soon?" I pressed, "Tell her soon? Like now? Right now?"

"Gotta get going." Ken told him before he could even reply, "Sorry. In a rush. Impatient girl."

"Take care, Leandra." Robert called, "I'll head there now." The elevator doors closed before I could thank him.

"That was stupid." Ken told me under his breath, "Very stupid. You'll be paying for that later. I promise you."

He'd probably given the nurses there some story about how he needed to come pick me up. Just to get the general direction of where I was, and my tears as he carried me back through only helped with that, as I knew I appeared to anyone like a cranky kid, needing to go home. Whether I wanted to or not, that's the way I looked.

How many kids had they seen in just that same exact scenario? It was perfect. Definitely not as hard to steal me from inside a hospital as I thought before.

The smell of Ken's dark leather coat, the feel of his arms holding me, the sound of his breathing so close to me was exactly what I needed to realize that my stomach wouldn't hold out. His quiet, growling voice terrified me. Paired with the fact that I knew he was the one holding me, and I had no choice but to cry. There was no stopping it.

I wanted to just jump and run as fast as I could, but I was afraid. Terrified. What would happen if he didn't let me go that easily? What if he caught me before I could get too far away? I'd die anyway.

I had absolutely no choice but to play the part he needed me to play to get out of there without raising suspicion, or get stabbed in the neck. Neither one sounded pleasant.

Oddly, I was reminded of the video. Being taken from my dad in such a way, when I knew the result wouldn't be anything good. I had no doubts that I knew, even back then, that I wasn't safe anymore. I definitely wasn't safe now, and the thought of what waited for me nearly made me sick right there.

He adjusted my weight as he strode from the elevator on the first floor, carrying me swiftly from the hospital. He jerked open the back door of the car he had sitting and waiting right up front, literally dropping me into the back seat.

I didn't even try sitting upright. I just laid across the seat where I'd been dropped, covering my head.

He wasn't wasting time. He moved quick, knowing he only had a few short moments before Alice would figure out that I was gone. If she hadn't yet. He was back in the driver's seat before I could even gather myself enough to sob twice more. The second his door was closed, my sobs were free to make a sound.

How quickly he got the car moving made my head spin, and fortunately for him, my stomach decided to empty itself all over the floorboard of the back seat, instead of all over him where he'd been just moments before. Unfortunately, he was still pretty pissed.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" He snapped, glancing back at me, "Guess what you're doing when we get there, Gina?"

Weakly, but still in a decent amount of panicked haste, I looked up front. Into the passenger seat. Sure enough, she sat there. I hadn't noticed her there. I had to notice, though, that Jack wasn't here.

I couldn't focus on that, however, as my stomach decided it wasn't done. I couldn't believe this. Today was supposed to be a good day, but it just got a million times worse than I ever imagined it could get. This couldn't be happening.

My cries clearly announced how much I didn't want to be here. How scared I was. Squeezing from me before I could stop them.

"Gina, shut your little bitch up." Ken growled over my cries at her, "I swear to fucking God, I'm not playing around." He was close to snapping, and I knew that, so I couldn't exactly blame my mom for doing as he told her to do. She turned in her seat, trying to reach me, but I cringed away from her like she was on fire.

I tried. I tried holding my breath to keep any more sobs from escaping, but they came out anyway.

"Here." My mom spoke, "Here, Leandra." I opened my eyes to see her handing me her jacket. I took the hint, taking it from her and burying my face in it. I couldn't be silent, but I could cry into it. Muffling the sound quite a bit as I curled up around it.

"Good." Ken approved, taking a breath as his tone calmed quite a bit, "Keep it that volume, and we'll be good."

"Ken," My mom spoke, "Just.. Take her back. Please."

"What did I fucking tell you?" He barked at her, "Not another fucking word out of you."

"Do you want to live the rest of your life wondering when they're going to find her?" She asked, "Taking her like that puts a target on us-"

"There already is a fucking target on us!" I flinched at his shout, but she never blinked, "And this little slut is the reason why!"

"Think about it." My mom stressed, "It's not her fault."

"Gina." His voice was a warning.

"All I'm saying," Her tone was quiet, "Is we could just.. We could just forget about all this. All you have to do is let her out. She'll find her way back, and we'll be good to go. We won't even have to tell Jack." I flinched again as he reached out, gripped her hair tight in his fist, and yanked her closer to him. My crying eyes wide, I watched. She winced, but never made a sound.

"You know," He growled at her, "You're starting to look pretty fucking useless to me right about now. How about I kick you out instead? Huh? Leave you right here? You'll never see either of your fucking pups again, bitch. Is that what you want?"

"No." She replied instantly, her tone a whimper, "No, Ken. Please-"

"That's what I thought." He told her, "So do what I fucking say, and shut the fuck up." He shoved her away, back into her own seat, "Actually, get your ass back there and make her shut up. Do your goddamn job. I don't want to look at you anymore."

I didn't know what else to do, curling up tighter and making room as she carefully made her way between the seats up front to settle into the back seat with me. She reached for me, but once again, I cringed away from her.

"Don't fucking touch me." I gasped between sobs.

"Okay." She replied, trying to ease me no doubt, "Leandra, I'm sorry. I tried to talk them out of this-"

I didn't want to listen to any more. I just turned my head, hiding my face in the jacket. This wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to be home. I was supposed to be safe. My stuck frozen mind was thawing enough to think.

"Hey." I looked to the front at Ken's voice. He was on the phone, "Where the fuck are you? Wake up, and answer your fucking phone, you useless bag of shit." With that, he hung up. He must have been leaving a voice message. Lovely.

The only sound now was my muffled sobs, but slowly, I pushed myself up. Sitting up and peeking out the window. I wanted to look around. Where was he going? This town wasn't that big. If he wanted to get away, he should have went the opposite direction to get to the main street. That would have turned into the highway and gotten him out of town.

Then I thought about it. He wasn't about to make a run for it yet. Because of what I'd done, everyone and their dog would soon be looking for me. They'd expect him to make a run for it.

The road he found was essentially deserted, rarely used by how overgrown it was. It wasn't even paved. Just dirt. We were leaving the town behind us, headed further into isolation.

"Gina," I jumped at Ken suddenly speaking up, "I think she could use something to drink, don't you?" I watched as he leaned over and pulled open the glove compartment, yanking out a bottle of water.

"Now?" My mom asked, "Wh-"

"Just do it." He snapped, holding the bottle back to her. Sighing, she reached up and took it. I ignored her tears, having my own to worry about, but I didn't ignore the way she seemed to hesitate, before looking over at me. Every instinct I had in me told me not to let that water get anywhere near me.

"I'm not thirsty." I grumbled, glaring at her.

"I don't give a fuck if you're thirsty or not." Ken barked, "Drink it."

"No." Since he was the one driving, I felt confident enough that he didn't want to stop long enough to hit me, so I was free to piss him off all I wanted.

"Oh." That word was a growl through clenched teeth, "That fucking word." That shut me up. Pursing my lips, I curled into an upright ball.

"Take it, sweetie." My mom urged, "Please."

"I'm not fucking drinking it!" I wasn't about to ignore my instincts at a time like this.

As confident as I had been to say anything of the sort before, that all flipped into terror as Ken suddenly stopped the car. Pulling over to the side of the road. Turning off the car, removing the keys, and swiftly climbing out.

"Ken." My mom spoke, sounding particularly panicked herself, "She didn't mean it." The back seat door opened forcefully, but I was already scrambling back. Somehow, I wound up across my mom's lap, cringing away from Ken's reaching hand.

That did me no good, however. He caught a hold of my ankle, and the second I felt the pressure, I started to fight. Kicking, thrashing, sobbing twice as hard as I had been before. To my surprise, though, my mom held onto me. I held onto her in return, sobbing twice as hard as I was before.

"She didn't mean it." My mom tried again, "She's scared."

"You shut the fuck up." Ken snapped at her, pulling on my ankle, attempting to tug me away from her, "Let her go."

"No." She muttered the word he hated the most, "Ken, give her a break."

"Yeah." He replied sharply, "I'll give her a break. I'll break all her fingers, then her hands. Move on to her arms.." He trailed off, yanking harshly on my ankle. My cries grew desperate as I felt the effort my mom had to use to keep me there. She was trying, but he was hurting me.

So I kicked. I managed to slam my shoe as hard as I could against his cheek, which was enough to get my ankle released. He fell back, and I scrambled forward, slamming the door and locking it.

He stood up almost immediately, when I suddenly remembered. He had the keys. As if remembering as well, my mom's hands gripped my waist and pulled me away from the door.

"Go, baby. Run." My mom told me, pulling open her door and helping me scramble out of it. I sobbed and struggled to recover, running nearly before I was upright.

"Dammit, Gina!" I heard him shout at her, and that made me slow and look back. He'd already rounded the car, and I looked back just in time to see him punch her full force. His fist landing against her face with a dull, nearly hollow sound. I hesitated as she fell to the side, torn now between continuing to run or going back to check on her. Until he rounded to look at me.

I remembered to run when he started for me.

Ken was faster this time, however, thanks to my aching ankle. I felt his arm encircle my stomach, and I was jerked to a very painful stop. Hauled off my feet, despite my loud cry and struggles. I couldn't reach him to bite him, though I tried.

He dragged me right back to the car, until he shoved me back, and I landed roughly up against the side of the trunk, losing my breath in the process.

He gripped my shirt tight in his fist and standing me up straighter, he pinned me there. Pinning me between his knees, his body against mine, he effectively cut off any sort of freedom of movement I might have had, but that didn't stop me from thrashing.

Unfortunately, though, I couldn't put weight on my right ankle anymore without pain spreading up my leg. That really limited how much I could really fight.

Snapping his fingers twice, he held his free hand into the car at my mom. I couldn't see her, but by how long it took for him to acquire the bottle of water, she was either really hurt, or hesitating as long as she dared. She didn't want to do it either.

"Hand it over!" Ken finally snarled at her, "I swear, you try to pull any more stupid ass stunts, I'll snap her neck right here. It would be easier on me anyway." I froze, whimpering as his hand found my neck and slammed me harder back against the car. That seemed to do it, though, as he pulled the bottle to himself now.

He twisted the top free with his teeth, finally looking to me again. I fought again, but that did almost no good as his free hand left my neck and gripped my face instead.

"Don't you fucking bite me again." He warned dangerously. Despite that warning, I was already attempting to do just that. I fought harder as he yanked his hand away with a shout of surprise.

I tried sliding down, and I figured I would just try to crawl away. He was getting mad, however. Angrier than I ever wanted him to be. I received a slap to the left side of my face, instantly dizzy as he stepped back and let me drop to the ground. I got one good kick to my stomach before he dropped to his knees to roll me back onto my back from where I tried to curl up.

Beside the car, I laid there. I was a lot easier to pin that way, as he straddled my upper stomach, pinning me with just his weight. Pinning one arm with his knee, my other attempting to hit him, but he ignored that. Completely unphased, he leaned down, gripping my face again.

"Open your fucking mouth." He growled, "Telling me no? You don't fucking tell me no. Open up." His hand squeezing my jaw open, I couldn't fight that, but I tried. Over the sound of my own cries and the heartbeat in my ears, I could just hear my mom crying inside the car.

My punching hand came up, trying to pry his hand away, fighting and squirming as much as I could. With him holding my mouth open, though, my cries were a lot louder.

He managed to dump a bit of the water into my mouth. Releasing his grip on my face long enough to try to cover my mouth, but I just immediately spit it right back out. Right into his face. That only pissed him off even more.

Slapping me again, he tried once more. Leaning forward, smashing me fully now between him and the ground, immobilizing me further, making it even more difficult to breathe. I groaned through sobs, hating this more than anything I'd hated in a long time.

"Come on." He told me through clenched teeth, "I know you're thirsty."

He dumped a little more of the water into my mouth, right as I was taking a breath. I inhaled it, and unfortunately, I swallowed as quickly as I could in instinct and in panic before I could start coughing. Seeing his chance, he poured even more. I wasn't done choking, so I had swallow that before I could continue to do so.

"Still saying no?" Ken asked me sharply, "Huh? Is this better than just doing what I fucking tell you?" I couldn't breathe, sobbing breathlessly between coughs, "Now just fucking cooperate, and I won't have to do this again." Once more, he gave me a mouthful, and once more I had to swallow it or risk inhaling it. He hesitated, watching me laying there with his hand gripping my face. He let me breathe a few seconds. Probably to keep me from drowning.

"You gonna be good?" He asked me, and through sobs, I nodded. Carefully, he released my face, drawing his hand back quickly in case I attempted to bite him again. I wasn't stupid enough to do that, even despite my panic.

"Good." He said, his tone a lot easier than it had been, "One more." He brought the bottle up, and though I knew I shouldn't, I opened my mouth again. Hating the fact that I had to do so. With his full weight on me, I'd have done anything to be able to breathe again. He poured a little more of a tolerable mouthful in, and though I flinched, I only lost a little bit of it.

"Good job." He told me, "There. Isn't this much better?" I was still pinned, so not really. He brought his hand up again, and I flinched. Unable to help it as he smoothed my bruising face with his fingers. His expression softening.

I turned my head, but he just gripped my face again, and forced it back forward. Making me look at him.

"I hate having to hurt you." He told me, his tone quieter, "But I will if I have to. I think you see that now, don't you?" I brought my free hand up, grabbing onto his wrist and trying to pull his away from my face, but he just ignored that as well. I sobbed, quieter now as well, even as his hand smoothed over my cheek.

My instincts were now telling me I needed to get out of that situation, but no matter which way I twisted, I couldn't get away from it. I turned my head, sobbing to the side and squeezing my eyes shut. Cringing into the dirt the best I could for the few minutes we stayed there.

Unfortunately for me, about that time was when the dizziness started spinning my head, and my struggles weren't near as hard as they had been moments ago. Either I'd worn myself out too much, or whatever was in the water was quickly kicking in.

The quieter I got, and the less I fought, the more he eased the force pinning me.

"That's better." He seemed satisfied, "It's useless to fight anymore. You've done a great job so far, but that's over now. I've got you now, you little bitch. It's about time you realize that. When you wake up, you will." I whimpered, miserable and desperate as my eyes found the trees off to the right of where I laid.

Standing up, he paused. Looking down at me. I gasped for breath I could freely take again, dizzily watching him crouch down again beside me. Reaching out, he gripped my hair tight in his hand and yanked me sitting upright again.

"Where'd that fight go?" He chuckled, laughing at my quiet cry as he stared into my eyes, forcing my head back. I gave a very brief, very weak struggle, sobbing quietly when it did no good. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't fight anymore. Focusing most of my limited energy on fighting the sleep. Looking up at him.

"I highly suggest, for your own sake, that you release her." The unexpected voice a little ways away had Ken looking over sharply, "Now."

A/N: Woohoo!
Okay, just for the record, this chapter has driven me crazy. I wasn't entirely sure what was missing, so I've gone over it for like the last two days straight. I've been removing things and adding other things, over and over, and it's as ready as it's ever going to be. I honestly hope you approve. :)
THANK YOU! To those AMAZING reviewers of last chapter! THANK YOU!
Chapter eight is interesting, in my opinion. I think many people will like that one. :)
Until Eight, my friends! :D