Living In Suspended Animation
"We always start with good intentions. But lose ourselves along the way. This is the time that we let it go, These are the words that will take us home. Singing the song that's inside us all….If we don't open our eyes we're walking blind," Nothing More, (2014).
It was the Friday, the last day of her first week back in high school that Lauren sacred the shit out of Charlie. It wasn't really intentional, after two weeks of living with the man, she tried to keep a sort of well, pleasantness between them. It wasn't really hard. Charlie was a nice guy and Lauren herself was always keen on being if not nice to people, polite and somewhat considerate. But, they were strangers- she knew that more clearly than her 'guardian' in this world, she was a twenty-year-old Mexican-American art student, he was a forty-one-year-old Police Chief of Forks, Washington. She was a woman and he was a man with no blood relation living together(there was nothing sexual about it, but Lauren, despite being the least conservative and religious of her family, had been raised as a Roman Catholic and it was freaking weird for her).
As far as Charlie knew she was his estranged seventeen-year-old daughter that despite having two weeks out of the year, he knew little to nothing about. That alone made it very difficult for both of them to deal with each other- Lauren was all about respect to authority and gratefulness towards those in the public service, but she was very much used to going to the beat of her own drum. Art college had only emphasized that, cultivated that. Her mother and father, while understanding and loving, didn't fully recognize her logic or thought process. But they had respected that and just had told her 'just don't hurt yourself in whatever you do'. She was a free spirit, mature sure, but prone to going against authority and questioning it because she felt she needed too. Charlie was an authoritative man, Police Chief at a young age and though very fair, was not used to people talking back to him, no matter how polite, as Lauren was. Logic and pointed questions from a 'seventeen-year-old' was not what he had expected of his daughter...
They were going to be growing pains no matter what between them.
They squabbled a bit over chores, scrambled to get the only bathroom first in the morning, bitched and moaned about each other over their more annoying habits: Charlie was a bit of a slob and while Lauren wasn't OCD about things(hell, she was a bit of a slob herself but she kept that to her room, not communal spaces!), she still had to badger the grown ass man about moving his plates and glasses back into the kitchen, it was his chore to do them after all and she didn't need to trip over the fifth glass of water he had leaving around, or his jackets that were strewn across the couches and the lazy boy. She wasn't Bella, she wasn't going to become a sudden live in maid just because she the younger girl had chosen to do so.
"Charlie!" she hissed, blinking at the what seemed like the tenth glass she had tripped over.
Charlie, at her, muffled hiss, peaked over the couch with a sheepish grin. His hair, curly and wild on his off day, was sticking up at odd angles. She pursed her lips at his apologetic expression.
"Um, sorry?"
She put her hand on her hips, raising a brow.
"I know, I know, pick up after myself."
"You're on dish duty!" she said pointedly, picking up the glass, squinting to check if she had chipped it or cracked it, "Why you keep leaving glasses on the ground is beyond me."
"I never agreed to that. You declared that you would cook and I would clean up afterward."
"Yeah, well, I have no idea how you managed to live this long without chores, Charlie."
"Hey, I managed without you!"
She gave him a look and he snorted.
"Mostly."
She tsked.
"Izzy, I'll pick up the dishes and wash them. Sorry, really, honey, I'm not used to the company."
Genuinely touched by his words, she reached over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. It was quick and it was more or less impulsive on her part, but his pleased grin was worth it.
"It's okay, Charlie, just try not to murder me via various glassware on the floor."
Lauren could admit that her showers were way too damn long- she took a complete hour in the bathroom, minimum, ten minutes for her pre-shower routine(brushing out her short hair, careful of any knots, using the restroom and waiting for her Nair to take effect), forty minutes in the actual spray, carefully washing, shaving any stray hairs that Nair had missed, and shampooing and conditioning her hair carefully and then used the last ten minute for her post-shower routine(drying, lotion, brushing her wet hair). It annoyed Charlie to no end and once he was comfortable enough with her, he had no trouble gripping about it.
"You do not need an hour. You are wasting water!"
Izzy blinked, combing through her straight, short and very wet hair. She had been told this many times. But Shower Times were her time- she hadn't changed the habit for her own mother, surely not for her new and very unwanted roommate.
"My showers are sacred, Charlie," she shrugged carelessly, "That stays the same. Try to beat me to the bathroom, Cheif!"
He grumbled all the way into the steamy restroom.
"Just try not to use all the hot water!"
If she stuck her tongue out at his back, that was her business and her's alone.
Not to mention the noise and the smell that started once Lauren started doing art related things in her room- most of her things didn't smell but she had found these lovely little gauche paints that Mr. Garner(the owner of the art shop in Port Angeles and while he had attested that paint wasn't for anyone, he had insisted that she at least try these because it was right up her soft, less glossy aesthetics). While she wasn't much of a painter it was a fun exercise and Mr. Garner had given her the set at half-off with a wink. The noise came from her blasting her music during the day to keep a good rhythm or from her banging around at night(headphones in) but walking around the house and even rushing downstairs for water or a snack.
"Seriously, Izzy, what the hell, it's three in the morning!"
Lauren blinked, heart pounding as she turned around to see the irate Police chief in nothing but a pair of shorts. Mustache Dad with abs, she mused with slight humor. She rubbed at her tired eyes. He looked a bit peeved. She didn't really blame him. It was late, or really, early and she must look a sight. She had been using her bare leg as a palette and it was covered in paint, as was her face and she had pushed back her hair with a rag, she was in booty shorts and a t-shirt full of holes, no bra much to her embarrassment.
She licked her lips.
"What?"
"Why are you up right now?"
Lauren shrugged, scratched absently at the dry paint on her leg.
"The muse, she beckons, Mister Swan," she said happily, gesturing dramatically with her glass of water.
The Chief did not look amused. He crossed his somewhat impressive arms over his chest.
"Go to bed. Seriously. You have school in a couple of hours."
Lauren raised a brow.
"Hey, I can handle this, Chief," she shrugged again, "Come on, you should go to bed, you have work in a couple hours yourself."
He sighed.
"I would but someone is stomping down the stairs at odd hours in the night. I'm used to a quiet house."
Lauren felt a bit bad about that. After all, Charlie hadn't signed up for an insomniac artist as a roommate. He had wanted his seventeen-year-old, obedient daughter who slept at normal hours. Then again, Lauren hadn't wanted a forty-one-year-old as her own roommate. It had always been Mariam in her head, an easy, comfortable little apartment with just the two of them. But well, Lauren couldn't really change that, could she?
"We all have our growing pains about our situation, Charlie," she patted his arm, smiling faintly as she made her way out of the kitchen, taking a swig of her cold water, "Sorry to wake you."
"It's okay, Iz," he had called out to her, voice warm, "I'm just really glad I get to know you. Just try to be sneakier when it's past midnight, alright?"
Seriously, Charlie was too cool, she cooed at his statement. She just wishes Bella was less of an asshat in cannon.
"Will do, Chief."
But she felt otherwise that they were getting along great for two complete strangers with a twenty-year gap between them.
"So, big plans for the weekend, Chief?"
Charlie looked at her from over his newspaper, blinking.
"Going fishing with Billy down at the Rez tomorrow."
Lauren smiled, licking her lips as she realized what sort of opportunity was open to her. Now, Lauren always wanted to say that she was a relatively nice person. She was generally pleasant, polite to a fault and while not really actively social, friendly. She did not want drama. Avoided it like the plague. Simply because Lauren hated to burn any bridges. She wasn't malicious or actively cruel.
She could also admit that she was very manipulative. It was a habit she had picked up from being the physically weakest of her family, from being somewhat shy and unable to speak up as a child, she could never strong arm to get her way. But she could convince. Twist things around in her favor. She wasn't cruel or evil on it. Didn't want to make waves or resentment, she just did it to get her way.
It was mental play and on the most stubborn it was thrilling to move the along to her favor. However, she rarely ever did it on people she cared about. She rather talk things through with them. As nice as Charlie was, she barely knew him.
That meant it was game on.
"Who's Billy?" she asked innocently, chewing her eggs absently. The trick was to be only mildly interested, to work your way up you what you wanted.
Mmm, slightly runny. Come on Chief, take the bait.
Charlie didn't look up from his newspaper, nodding absently.
He took the bait.
"Billy Black, the man that owned the truck before you... Do you remember him?"
Lauren, obviously did not. At least, not from meeting with the man in person. She does however damn know about the fact that he is the Chief of the Quileute Tribe, leader of the all-male council that oversaw the wolves(well in this universe, after all, in her's, a lot of the council was well, female). Wolves the size of horses. She remembered also that they were the only thing in cannon that… Well, could kill vampires other than vampires. So yeah. She remembered Billy Black in the sense that he could be her mother fucking savior if she played her cards right. She liked Charlie, he had been really sweet and had given her space as she was more or less a basket case at the moment.
But he couldn't change the fact that he was her meal ticket(God she would be broke and homeless without the man), that he had access to the only protection against vampires(oh her kingdom for a Buffy Summers with Mr. Pointy in hand).
It could save her life. And Lauren really wanted not to die.
"Vaguely," she hummed, absently, "You said he was in a wheelchair… Hard to image Billy Black in a wheelchair."
She sipped at her mildly okay green tea, the only brand available in a grocery store in Port Angeles. She had to drive fifty frackin' miles for tea. She really hated 2005. She couldn't even find good tea and there was no Cherry Garcia to soothe her stress(she was going to freakin' die). But so far, she had found that she couldn't really do much about her situation. Both she and Mariam had come to the decision that with no clue as to how Lauren and her phone ended up in Twi- World, the only thing she could do was bide her time and wait for a clue that could take her home. It wasn't an active plan, but that was all they had.
But it also didn't mean Lauren couldn't wiggle around and make contingencies for shit not going the way of the novels.
"You played with his girls all the time until you were fourteen. Rebecca and Rachel. His youngest, Jacob used to trail after you like a puppy," Charlie laughed, "He was so happy when you joined the girl's little league team when you were nine. You stayed longer that summer… I think that was the last time you had fun here."
She blinked. That was… really sad. Charlie had such a wistfulness. It broke Lauren's heart. She may be a manipulative bitch but at least she wasn't malicious or capricious about it. Bella was so terrible. Especially since she had limited the time that she and her father had together.
"I remember," she said, lying without hesitation. She didn't like to lie, but she was really really good at it. She smiled brightly, "We used to make mud pies together?"
Charlie chuckled. The fact that she had stolen that from the movie didn't seem to matter.
"Down at the beach. But when you and Jacob started throwing them at Rachel and Rebecca, it was a mess. God, you were covered head to toe in sand and mud by the time Billy and I put a stop to it."
She laughed, sipping at her warm tea. She tried to invoke the feelings of nostalgia, thinking of Miriam and Andrew, her cousins, to make it sound naturally found. She wasn't exactly an actress but Charlie didn't seem to find it odd.
"I miss that. The Beach I mean. It feels like it's been forever since I've gone."
That much was true. She had last gone to the beach with her Mother during a vacation in Mexico, last summer. She remembered going by boat to the least touristy islands that were less than a mile offshore from the coastal city most of her maternal family lived in. She remembered good food, high-speed ride on a large banana boat and watching her stupid cousins jump off it in various ways and faintly wishing she had a swimsuit to tan her pale skin better in the sun. It had been a really long time since she had gone, as she had never ever gone to the Beach in the United States, despite living in two states with the largest coastlines. Charlie looked at her, face confused.
"I thought you said that beaches should be warm, which is why you hate Frist Beach. Why would you miss it?"
Lauren felt uncomfortable at the sadness she heard in his voice. She smiled, gently, trying to ease Charlie a bit.
"Nostalgia is funny, Charlie. It's been a long time since I've been in Forks."
He hummed, more of a grunt in acknowledgment, a frown on his face. Then, he went back to his breakfast. Lauren went for the kill.
"Charlie, would it be too much of a bother if I went fishing with you?" she asked, tentatively and she swore that Charlie nearly did a spit take with his coffee at her question.
He blinked rapidly at her.
"Who the hell are you and what the hell have you done with my daughter?"
Lauren flinched at the question, if only he realized how on target he was.
She made a show of wilting, parting her mouth and looking upwards through her eyelashes. Lauren was the master of the puppy dog look and with her eyes, beautiful as they were(her best feature by far and she knew it) she was especially good at it. Charlie's furrowed brow relaxed slightly as she looked at him. He blinked, eyes softening.
"So I can't go with you tomorrow?"
It was early morning, just before Charlie had to head off to the Station and they were having a nice enough breakfast of huevos rancheros, which, as Charlie had found out were delicious courtesy of her. Lauren knew she was a good cook, she did it fairly often in her own life and it was better than doing the dishes. She hated the dishes. She really loathed dishes.
"I didn't say that," said Charlie, looking at her with a strange look on his face, "But Be- Izzy, you don't like fishing."
Lauren felt no strong feelings for fishing. She had never been fishing in her life. The closest she had ever been from that was from her Uncle harpooning fish in the local river in Mexico, swimming after them, goggles on his head and a cigarette stub between his crooked teeth, even as she tried to put it out by splashing water at him. She had tried to help by catching fish in a bag and failed completely. She had never ever done the whole pole thing, with hooks and worms and stuff. She sighed, licking her lips and moving her hair out of her face.
"Charlie, I just really liked to go with you," she winced slightly at the blatant manipulation on her part, she was usually sneakier than that and dropped her shoulders as if in defeat, "Do you not want me too?"
Charlie beamed, full on beamed. Crinkled his warm brown eyes and pulled at the lines around his full mouth, looking as if Lauren had just told him he had won the lottery.
"We have to leave very early tomorrow, before dawn, can you handle that?"
Lauren nodded, smiling.
"Yeah, yeah I can. Wake me up please?"
"Yeah, no problem honey."
"Thanks, Charlie."
He finished his coffee, folded up his newspaper and with a kiss on her forehead, was off. In the past two weeks that she had been in Twi-World, both she and Charlie had gotten used to their increasingly casual displays of affection. It was less awkward on Charlie's part and Lauren tried to approach it with a mentality of those kisses she sometimes had to given in Mexico as greeting to complete strangers. That made it bearable on her part at least. She liked Charlie, but she had only known the man two weeks. Other than on impulse, she hardly ever offered him affection first.
"I'll get the dishes after dinner, sweetheart."
With that, Charlie was out the door and Lauren was grabbing her own backpack and purse to head to school. Things had settled into a depressingly easy routine for Lauren in her return to high-school- It had been so simple to fall back into the rhythm of the whole thing. Homework was easy, usually finished before Lauren even made it back to Charlie's, most of the kids at Forks high seemed to have lost interest quick enough and the quote on quote 'cool kids' seemed to have taken a liking to Lauren. She had a place to sit at least when it came to lunch, so she assumed socially she was doing very well for herself, even if it was because she was the 'new kid' more than anything on her part.
Her fellow Lauren was Queen B(also Queen Bitch) but seemed to have taken a great liking to Lauren(something Lauren was ever puzzled about, she was supposed to hate Bella after all), Jessica was the steady follower- a bit jealous but nice enough when Mike wasn't fawning over her, Angela was very nice and stayed very nice(she had a bit of humor which Lauren was gleefully feeding into), Mike was super sweet if a bit overzealous, Tyler was an ass that she regularly verbally spar with and Eric was a fellow geek that she nerded out with(He had seen Futurama, at least, found the fact that she had called her truck the Crushinator hilarious). Her teachers more or less left her alone, which was fine for her because she already had authority issues especially since at her real school, being on a first name basis with her Professors was completely normal and overall Lauren was fitting nicely into Forks High School.
She did enjoy the opportunity to drive on a regular basis, at least, it was getting easier with time as she got used to the permanently slick roads and the Crushinator and despite the uncertainty of who could be in those woods, they were beautiful. Tall evergreen even in the middle of winter. It was so unlike what she was used too- it looked very peaceful. Part of Lauren did wish to walk in them but wasn't so stupid. She had no idea how close to town did the Cullens hunt their food and had no desire of falling victim to a Nomad.
The day at school was pretty much similar to her week- Boring, doing homework between classes and trying not to lose patience at the sometimes annoying prattle typical to teenagers. Lauren hadn't been too keen on it when she had been in high school and found that she wasn't keen on it now.
"I mean, I know it's like months away, but I really am going to ask Mike to go with me to the Spring Dance," at this, Jessica turned narrowed eyes towards Lauren, assessing, measuring at her probably politely attentive expression,"I'm a strong independent woman expressing myself, right?"
Lauren herself sighed. It was lunch and she was munching on her cold sandwich absently. Mike wasn't at the table today, as apparently, the boys had to stay back for some sports thing. Eric didn't generally sit with them so it was just her and the three girls.
"If it really is a celebration of female independence at having the girl's ask, why don't you just Stag it?"
Jessica turned to her blinking her big, heavily marked up eyes at her. She fully turned, fuzzy yellow turtle neck cut off at the midriff and all.
"What?"
"Why don't we go as a group, no boys?"
Angela smiled faintly.
"That'd be kinda cool."
Lauren Mallory frowned.
"But, it's like tradition to go with a date that you ask yourself."
Lauren snorts.
"Count me out, if I go," she wrinkled her nose at the thought of dancing to current music with a bunch of teenagers(who were technically older than her if she thought too hard about it, in fact, Bella was technically nine years older than her), "I'm going without a date. And I doubt I'll go anyway."
"That's so weird," said Jessica pointedly, eyes narrowed, "I mean, don't you like anyone here? Do you hate dancing?"
The fact that they were all physically younger than her, or, well, dead, did not spark a romantic interest in Lauren. Not to mention the fact that they were literature characters, kinda put a cramp at that too.
"Nope. And I love to dance," she smiled slightly, "But they probably won't have anything I like to groove to anyway."
"What are you, a lesbian?" the slight disgust she heard in Jessica's voice made Lauren frown.
"Why are you saying it as if it's a bad thing? I mean, I don't find women sexually attractive, so I'm not a lesbian, but that's not the point. I don't really know anyone here, so how can I like them like as a boyfriend?"
Jessica pursed her lips.
"You have to like someone."
Lauren sighed. It was really high school. She had gotten into very similar arguments with her friends when she had been their age. She had even made up a crush to get them off her back. Now, she saw no point.
"I really don't."
"Is it Emmett Cullen?" asked Angela, shyly, biting her lip.
Lauren M. was smirking. Lauren herself just blinked.
"What?"
"Your like the only one he talks to outside of his family!" said the Queen Bee, jumping up and down, green eyes sparkling. Not to discretely, she looked over at the Cullen table, where Rosalie looked distinctly stiff, she looked over at them at glared, the kind of glare you would have if you put too much pepper on your chicken. Mildly annoyed, but annoyed nonetheless, "And he's gorgeous!"
Oh, fuck me and Vampire hearing.
"No. No, no, no, I do not like Emmett Cullen!" she said, shaking her head violently.
Emmett was staring as well, but just in surprise. With eyes wide and eyebrows raised.
"Denial is not just in Egypt," sang out Jessica, smirking in obvious amusement.
"He has a girlfriend. That is so unattractive," she snapped, barely stopping herself from pointing out that he was in fact, married to the beautiful and very drastically deadly vampire that was glaring in their direction. And guys in relationships were very unattractive to Lauren, "And they have both been really nice to me because their mom told them too!"
"Oh, so the fact that he's in a relationship is the only thing that unattractive about him? I mean, it's not like he's married to her!"
Lauren frowned.
"They really care about each other. Anyone with eyes can see that. I wouldn't be surprised if they got married right out of graduation. I'm so not into that. Emmett's nice and all, but I'm not a homewrecker!"
Lauren M. and Jessica just laughed, giggled really.
"Rosalie is a haughty bitch!" Lauren M. tossed her beautiful hair, she smiled, "If you like Emmett, climb that tree, Izzy, I'll help you! You're really nice!"
"Yeah, you should totally go for it. Break up the weird incest thing they have going on."
Angela looked mortified over bringing it up as she stared at her friends. She didn't stop them though. Lauren herself had enough of it. She felt red face, in both anger and embarrassment. They didn't know. They couldn't know that Emmett was happily married and well, a fucking Vampire. They were just shallow, silly girls in high school being shallow, silly girls in high school. It was one thing listening to them talk petty over her, it was another thing if they brought in other people. Decidedly people who could snap their necks. Stupid girls, who had offered their friendship despite everything.
Lauren wanted to cry.
"You know what, kiddos, if you want to be immature, that's your jazz. I'm leaving," she said pointedly and stood to gather up her things, "And by the by, I don't like Emmett Cullen. I don't like any boy here, I've only known everyone for a week. And right now, I don't even like you."
With that, despite their affronted faces, Lauren walked away.
OOOOOOOOOOOO
Rosalie McCarthy hated going to high school. She was a ninety-year-old woman stuck everlasting in the body of an eighteen-year-old. Perfect, every woman's dream. She had watched the nation she had been born in raise and fall in wake of the Depression, the Second Great War, its triumph during the years of the Cold War and had suffered through it all stuck as a cold, dead thing. She had been turned in the day she had been betrayed, abused and soiled by the man(and his friends) that would have been her husband. She met the love of her existence on his dying day, seen his beautiful, dying face and couldn't bare to leave him. She had lived, loved, suffered for many years and was immortal.
Frankly, high school was so utterly dull that it made the monotony of eternity, even with Emmett, a little bit harder to bare.
It didn't help that most humans were so- well, they were mostly the same. Ever since Carlisle and Esme had started insisting that they attend school for humans, well, Rosalie had to suffer through immature boys and girls at the cusp of adulthood, moving through their small, predictable, wonderful lives that Rosalie could never have- It never changed. They never did. It was always the same, just repeated situations, their journeys echoing across the country and the years. So when the typical popular girls started gushing about Emmett- her husband- it was well, normal. She was annoyed, yes, not because they were fawning after her husband, exactly, but because they expected her to be annoyed and they were only trying to be 'helpful' to Izzy Swan.
She was an odd kid, thought Rosalie as she placed down her art supplies(she had wished that Forks was big enough to have a music class other than band or orchestra, she liked it much better than art). Was a little more mature than most. Oddly, she had defended them- the outcasts, but curiosity over the popular children. She seemed to go to her own beat, which was rare at her young age. People were usually so eager to fall into the status quo- to follow into their roles that echoed across the nation and the years. She eyed her as she came in, grim face, headphones already within her ears, loud and blasting:
"My boy builds coffins for the rich and the poor. Kings and queens; they've all knocked on his door. Beggars and liars, gypsies and thieves. They all come to him 'cause he's so eager to please. My boy builds coffins he makes them all day. But it's not just for work and it isn't for 's made one for himself. One for me too," it was a beautiful, full and rich voice that sang- It reminded Rosalie faintly of Stevie Nicks, one of her favorite artists.
She stared, blinking rapidly as the girl sat down, lips parting slightly as she mouthed along with the song- it was probably a favorite of her's then. She was looking tired- the girl obviously never got much sleep as she had permanent bags beneath her lovely eyes. Rosalie frowned as Emmett grinned in her direction, but the girl was oblivious, focused on spreading out her materials for their latest art assignment. She only waved absently in their direction, not even looking up before she set to work. Ms. Garner more or less gave the girl free range, as she was the most passionate about the material, as well as the most technically skilled. She didn't even pay attention to the small lecture other than to peek at the teacher before she set to work.
Her movements were all economical- her hand moved quickly but without hesitation as she went across the large page. Rosalie found it a tad more interesting than the teacher's comments on how wonderful Picasso was. Emmett was staring as well, his large hand resting on her thigh as he drew the 'warm-up' exercise with his less dominant arm. She hummed, pleased, and then spoke in rapid fast, vampire way:
"So, do you think the girl has a crush on you?"
Emmett snorts.
"I doubt it. Humans with crushes usually look in our direction more than she does."
The girl, oblivious and focused, didn't even look up. Some of the humans did- those with better hearing or without headphones could almost feel their speech- It was at a higher frequency than they could hear but the air around them vibrated all the same. She paused, tapped her pencil to her lips before she grabbed her kneaded eraser and swept it across a bit of her initial form.
"She just seems to be… Nice," said Rosalie and she did not hide her frown.
Emmett sighed.
"You think Esme set her on us?" there was doubt in his voice, but he was letting her speak her piece.
"She needs to stop meddling. We're all adults… I love her but if we don't want to interfere with humans-" she breathed deeply through her nose at the feelings of resentment and anger that clawed at her chest, made something scratchy that had nothing to do with the burn she felt at Izzy Swan's delicious scent being so near, "If she and Carlisle want to play human that's fine but I'm tired of high school."
Emmett hand squeezed her thigh, softly, kneaded the softer skin there. She felt the tension that she hadn't even known was there melt away.
"You want to leave again?"
It was a tempting thought. It always was. Rosalie always would care for her family, even her extended 'cousins' in Denali. But sometimes it was just too much- Between Alice and Edward, even to some extent Jasper, she felt drowned in people who could twist and pull her to follow their lead. Edward was the favorite, the first son and the mind reader who plucked whatever he heard from her mind. Alice the magic-eight ball who could tell her what she would wear to what she and Emmett would break in their next 'sexual escapade'. Jasper knew how she felt and because of it so did Edward. There was no privacy amongst them… She respected Carlisle even if she loathed him at times and Esme was a soothing balm. Leaving always seemed to be the best option.
But she couldn't deny that she would miss them all, even Edward. So many years together and it was odd to be apart because they were comfortable more than she ever cares to admit aloud.
"No," she frowned down at the replica of the small image on the screen, she had scribbled on her small sketchbook, "Not yet. Maybe after school ends."
Emmett hummed a disappointed note.
"Take that fifth honeymoon. Milan or Paris?" he pressed, waggling his thick, dark brows at her. She found herself smirking despite herself.
"Too sunny and it smells of human urine now."
"What about Tokyo or Hokkaido? It's on the list of places we've yet to make love on, babe."
She giggled.
"Maybe. The fashion is picking up there and can you image all the car factories we can tour?"
He smiled.
"That's my girl."
She wanted to kiss him. It was always so hard to stop herself- but they were in the wrong company. She frowned, sighed, wishing she could even just lean against her husband. But she couldn't, they were even technically married in this identity yet… She frowned, dropped her hand on her lap and flipped his large hand over. He let her- her husband, the strongest among them- let her flip his hand as easily as one would lift a piece of paper and let her twine her fingers into his. It was one of the reasons she had come to love him so much- He was so much stronger than her, then most-
But he was the gentlest soul she had ever met. He never took from her, nothing she wouldn't willingly give. And he always gave to her. No hesitation, no resistance. He gave and gave and gave to her. He didn't worship her as Royce supposedly had, he was her partner and her King as she was his Queen. They were equals and that was made her love him above anything, even if he resented himself for never being able to give her a child- She could never, ever fault him for such a thing. After all, he hadn't been the one to rape and beat her within an inch of her life, nor had he been Carlisle…
"Please," her voice was a croak, a silent hiss that barely passed through her mangled jaw.
Golden eyes stared, hesitant and growing darker by the minute. Rosalie didn't know what she was pleading for. She just couldn't help but cry and plead for the pain and humiliation to stop. Her entire body throbbed and her breath was a wheeze- She was just so cold. Royce had ripped her jacket clean off, the one he had bought her, ripped the delicate buttons clean off. His friend, she thinks she recognized him as the Police Chief's son, had ripped her the front part of her dress.
Faintly, all she could think was that it couldn't end here, that her mother was waiting for her. That her father had promised to buy her that lovely violet dress that she had seen in the seamstress shop just the other day. She didn't understand why Royce would-
"Please."
"Shh, it's going to be alright," said the Doctor Cullen, dark eyes bright, "Just bare with the pain for a little wild, poor thing."
"Please."
"Rosie, come back to me."
Rosalie blinked, trembling as she looked into the dark eyes of her husband. She breathed, deeply, forcing her lungs to work. Izzy Swan's scent hit her, sweet, underneath all the artificial smells of her soap, shampoo or lotions, she smelled deliciously sweet, made her throat distinctly burn like it was on fire. She focused on the sensation, not losing herself but using that sharp pain to remind herself where she was. Emmett squeezed her hand, gently and she squeezed back, in quick, three successions, the sign they had developed to show that she wasn't stuck in her memories anymore.
"I'm … I'm not fine," she whispered honestly, she would never lie to her husband, "I was on the street again, with Carlisle over me-"
"Where are you now?" he asked, patiently.
She blinked.
"Forks. Forks high school. Ms. Thomas- No, Ms. Garner's art class. I'm sitting in the back. With you right next to me," she squeezed his hand tighter, "And Izzy Swan sits in front of us."
She looked at the girl to confirm it, who was still drawing. Izzy paused, looked up, maybe sensing her gaze. Her eyes, bright and an intense gray locked with her's. She frowned, a small pull of her small lips. She blinked and then popped out an earphone.
"Everything alright? You look a little pale?" she asked, her voice was hesitant, her small, fine brows bunched together.
Rosalie blinked again, a hysterical giggle passing past her clenched teeth. She is taking in the features of her round face, trying to center herself to understand she was here. She hardly had any acne, just a few spots minuscule on her chin and small, pointed nose. Rosalie as a human had been the same, but she always covered it up with a little bit of powder, the girl didn't bother. She had freckles- not much, just a speckled here and there, two at the corner of her eye, on her bottom and top lip, at the top of her forehead. She had rounded features, vaguely foreign features that Rosalie couldn't quite place-
"Yeah," Rosalie answered, trying to muster up her usual haughtiness to off put the girl, to make her stop from noticing that she was having an episode, but her voice is off even to human ears, "I'm feeling a little… Sick."
The girl made a face, nostrils flaring, mouth twisting and then she raised her hand. Ms. Garner came over, smiling.
"Rosalie isn't feeling well. Maybe she and Emmett should home," she glanced at the clock and nodded, "I know this class is important, Ms. G but their brother Edward is home with the flu if Rosalie has something similar- "
The older woman frowned but nodded.
"Well, I suppose it should be fine if you don't make a habit of it. Tell you what, Izzy, take them both home, they usually ride with their brother and sister and I don't want Rosalie to stay longer than she should," the older woman looked at Rosalie with concern, watching her with a furrowed brow.
Izzy's face paled and she licked her lips quickly. She blinked rapidly.
"Um-"
"Is that alright with you two?"
Emmett answered for both of them, surprising Rosalie by agreeing. But when she looked at him, he shot her a concerned glance that made her heart clench. Izzy nodded and set to putting away her things.
"You're the best Ms. G," said the girl as she grabbed Rosalie's things as well, hardly struggling with the weight of her things.
"Work on that project at home, Izzy, I want that ready for V.A.S.E. in a few weeks, you got it?"
The girl nodded.
"I'll have it done before that."
With that, with their things in hand, the girl holding the project in a portfolio underneath her arm, they walked out with whispers following them. Rosalie leaned heavily into Emmett's side, relishing in the hold he had on her waist. Izzy Swan just simply ignored the whispers, leading the way. She turned to them with a slight frown.
"You guys need anything from your lockers?"
"We can wait in the car for our brother and sister. You can use this chance to ditch and go home," started Rosalie, but Emmett squeezed her waist in slight disagreement.
Izzy licked her lips, shaking her head.
"No, it's fine. It makes me more comfortable knowing you guys are at home. Can you text or leave a note so they know not to wait for you?"
Emmett made a show of taking out his phone and texting Jasper as they walked towards the parking lot. Izzy surprised them by taking out an umbrella, large enough for all three of them, Emmett took it and let it hang over them both to avoid the slightly heavy downfall. They made their way to her old truck, a faded old bulbous pickup that Rosalie would peg at being a 1953 model, maybe 1954. It was in horrible condition rusted with tires that looked a little stripped down- but it was beautiful nonetheless. Rosalie, despite herself, was already imaging fixing it up, stripping down the steel to clean off the rust, painting it a lovely fire engine red or turquoise-
"Sorry for the mess," she mentioned as she opened it up, and gestured for them to go inside first.
Emmett went first placing him flush against the door before Rosalie went after him. The cab was small and neither she and Emmett were exactly petite as Izzy was. But they made it work, Rosalie in her husband's lap as he stretched out, Izzy perched in the driver's seat. She placed both her purse and portfolio behind the seats, keys jingling in hand. The car was not a mess- in fact, it was quite organized. It smelled pleasant enough, a black ice freshener infused with the scent of its owner, a floral sort of scent and had a faint lingering smell of tobacco, mint and something else that Rosalie did not like underneath it all, weeks old. The previous owner maybe?
"You can put that behind the seat or underneath it," she said, pointing to the basket in Rosalie's hands and lap. It was full of miscellaneous things, like lotion and travel-sized deodorant, Rosalie shrugged, before she placed it underneath the seat, next to a first aid kit.
"What's so important that you have to padlock it?" asked Emmett, jangling the lock on her glove department.
The girl smiled.
"A map to the fountain of None-of-Your-Business, Cullen," she said pleasantly, no heat or malice, just a polite warning as she started up the engine, "Now I have no flippin' clue where you guys live so point-me!"
"Harry Potter, really?"
The girl laughed.
"That fact that you recognized it tells me everything I need to know, Emmett."
Rosalie sighed and directed her. She started the truck, a large rumble that made the entire cab vibrate. Rosalie frowned as the girl carefully pulled out, driving slowly and with caution around the many cars around her. When they were on the highway, she pressed forward with more speed, but not much. About sixty-four miles per hour, Rosalie listened carefully to the engine, hearing the slight pop and wheeze in its loud rumble as she pressed the gas pedal.
"Where did you get this thing?" she found herself asking, bored as she fiddled with the radio. Original to the car and surprisingly still functional.
The only station they could pick up was one that played older songs. Patsy Cline crooned from the old speakers.
"Charlie bought the Crushinator off of a friend, I want to say he bought it in the eighties? I don't know much about cars I'm afraid. Just that this one is from the 50's and that it's mine!" replied Izzy, both hands on the wheel, eyes intently forward, her voice was bright and enthusiastic about the last part.
Rosalie remembers her own first car- a 1935 little Buick that she still owned, lovingly kept in Tennessee in the property Emmett had bought for them for their first wedding. She believed Emmett had inherited it just last year when his 'grandfather' had passed.
"It's a 1953 Chevy pickup truck and the engine sounds as if it's been patched together a few times, it probably needs maintenance. The tires need replacement too," Rosalie said, frowning at the girl.
Izzy frowned at the road.
"Fuck. Know any good mechanics? I don't want my Crushinator to die."
"Is that a Futurama reference?" said her husband, sounding delighted, at Izzy's nod, he fist pumped, "And there's no better mechanic than my Rose. She takes care of all of our cars."
The girl blinked.
"Really? Cool. I envy any grease monkey."
"I can take a look at your truck tomorrow if you're available and if you want. I won't charge you. Think of it as thank you for taking us home and getting us out of class."
If there was anything Rosalie hated, it was being in someone's debt. She knew that Izzy had sensed something off about her in class, not just her being 'sick'. The fact that the girl had known to get her out of the situation was… Kind of her. She was observant and that was dangerous, but not really worrisome. Izzy Swan seemed like she had a good head on her shoulders- many people like that would not make the leap to vampires. They were pulling into their long drive now, the girl driving her truck carefully through the twists and bends of the road with the air of someone who didn't drive often.
"I'd really appreciate it. Can I call you after I get home from La Push? Charlie is taking me fishing and I have no idea when I'll get back... We could always do it Sunday if-"
"Saturday is fine," said Emmett, smiling, "You got a sticky note or something to put down our number?"
"In the basket."
He wrote down his personal cell phone, smiling. Rosalie wondered faintly if Esme was getting what she wanted. They were interacting with a human after all. Becoming more of what they once where, even though she felt a faint throb in her chest that she would never get her humanity back. She was cold and froze until someone tared her apart and burned the pieces, with Emmett to soothe the bad memories and to hold her until then.
The thought made her frown. The fact that Edward- Edward of all people who touted his eighty-year-old streak from drinking human blood so proudly(Emmett was so ashamed of it- the people he had killed when he had been a newborn: they had been unprepared for him, it had been by chance she had found him broken and bleeding the claws of the bear still in his stomach. And those two afterward- the woman that had smelled so sweet that he hadn't even thought of it as he had only smelled them and then they were dead and drained in his arms as he sobbed) had run off with his tail between his legs to Denali because of this girl…
Well.
"Is there a reason you started talking to us?" she asked and the girl blinked.
"Um, because you sit in front of me in art class?"
"You waved to us," Rosalie pressed, "On the first day of the semester. Most people either ignore us or just stare. Why?"
The girl laughed.
"Esme mentioned it to me you would help me settle in if I asked," she quirked a brow, and continued in an honest, soft voice, "But from what you said you guys were anti-social. It just felt polite to wave… And to talk to you when I saw you guys were in my class. I can stop if you want. I know someone people are more perfectly content with a small circle of friends."
"Defiantly doesn't have a crush on me," Emmett said too high for Izzy's ears.
Rosalie nudged him on the arm, a small smile on her lips.
What an odd person.
"No, it's fine. Maybe it's okay to expand our circle… Just this once."
The girl smiled, faintly.
"So, I'm a Mongol."
"What?"
"This world history web series that I liked when I was younger, any time it mentions a general rule, like say no one has ever successfully invaded Russia, it had a montage of the one exception. The Mongols," she laughed, a pleasant sound from the back of her throat.
Rosalie found herself smiling, larger. The girl knew her history as well.
"You're just a dork full of references!" cried Emmett and he laughed.
"A dork is a whale penis," she quipped, and with that, she made it to the large meadow that leads to their home in Forks, drove straight up to the house with a slightly crooked park,"And may I say you have a lovely home?"
Rosalie laughed at her choppy transition. Inside, she could hear Esme laughing as well.
"Maybe you should come in?"
Izzy shook her head, while Rosalie elbowed Emmett at the stupid comment. If Edward, when he came back from Denali, were to smell the girl in the house… Or even Jasper… That would be horrible. It was bad enough that they smelled of her, the small room of the cab making it inescapable from her scent and the warmth her body radiated.
"Thanks, but I gotta go cook dinner for the Chief, feel better Rosalie."
They grabbed their things and made their way inside, Izzy watching them the whole way. By the end of it, Rosalie was being carried by Emmett. Esme was in the foyer, waiting for them. Her eyes were bright and she was beaming at them, looking towards the window as the rumble of Izzy's truck drove away. She then turned to both of them, her happy face morphing into concern.
"Why did Izzy Swan drive you here?"
"Rosalie-" Rosalie gripped her husband's arm, twice, asking him to lie(she didn't need Esme's mothering at that moment), and he continued without missing a beat, "Was bored so we made it as if she was sick. Izzy told the teacher and she asked her to drive us home so Jasper and Alice would have the car."
She tsked.
"You already missed enough school during the sunny days. You shouldn't do that," she lectured softly.
Rosalie made a show of rolling her eyes and gripped Emmett's arm again.
"Well, mom, we're going upstairs to get freaky."
Esme shook her head as Emmett took her upstairs. She went to her office on the first floor- a fake show of privacy as she put on music to tune them out somewhat. They did not make love- not as soon as they reached their room. No, Emmett eased her into it. It was never had any force with them, despite the zealous that they usually made love with. It was always sweet, heavy and heated between them. Emmett was a gentle giant by definition and it was always by her prompting that it got rougher, hard enough to break buildings if they so wanted. But at first, Emmett only kissed her body, slowly, massaged away the tension and the memories.
"I got you, babe."
Rosalie wished she could cry. It was one of the other things she missed the most of about being human.
"You do," she whispered to him, cradling his face in her hands, "You have me. And I have you."
He smiled, dimples flashing, tracing words of love against her skin. She sighed, closed her eyes as she leaned into her husband of sixty-eight years and let him love her tenderly.
AN: I do not own Twilight, it belongs to its author and publishing company and its movie studio.
This is me just playing in its sandbox, making misshapen sandcastles.
I edited the last six chapters of Eventide for coherency and better grammar. The events of the chapters have not changed, I just changed a little dialogue, added some descriptions and dialogue, to make it better and more cohesive. You do not need to reread it, but if there was something that didn't match up in those chapters, it should now because I went back to fix it.
So I spilt the 'First Sight Chapter' because it was too damn long and I knew I wouldn't write a chapter that long again- Lo and behold the next damn chapter decided to be long as hell. I blame Rosalie. She was really fun to write- and Her P.O.V. was only supposed to be like a couple pages but then suddenly I was at twenty-three and nearly nine thousand words.
Yay.
So, for the most part, I've been writing this by free balling it a bit for the first few chapters, but I've gone and gotten fairly organized now. I've made a calendar for the events of Twilight- and then how the events of Eventide play into that timeline, as well as started planning a little bit ahead as far as chapters go. I hope to at least cover the events of at least Twilight with this story, but most likely go forward into the rest of the books as well. Keep in mind, since Lauren is not Bella, the stupidity that is New Moon will not occur. At all. Seriously. That was really stupid, I hated how much Bella stopped after Edward left her. The entire time I was reading it and I was twelve at the time, I kept rolling my eyes. I only ever read through the entire book once- simply because Bella was just so fucking unbearable for the middle part of the book because it's basically her whining for like a few hundred pages about how broken she is and how much it hurts to think about Edward. If there is something I can't stand in a protagonist is complaining. And though Bella did it a lot in the first book it wasn't as obvious or it just went over my head.
But I digress. Eventide will cover the events of Twilight to Breaking Dawn. Obviously differently and with no creepy babies. At all. This is a rewrite as well as a critique of the Twilight universe. So far I just have the three months of the time in which Twilight occurs planned out: and yes, the entire book only ever covers from January 18th to 25th, skips February entirely, March 2nd to March 18th and then May when Edward takes Bella to Prom in the Epilogue. I will not follow suit. Because that is time that can be used to develop characters more than just whine that Edward is ignoring Bella. So there's that.
Something else I want to point out- Anything not in the four Twilight novels is non-canon in regards to includes Midnight Sun, The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner and the Twilight Illustrated Guide. Why? Because all of those leave a series of plot holes, retcons that more or less make Twilight more of a mess than it already is. Here's the thing, I don't hate Twilight at all. I could, it'd be really easy to hate it. I like it fine, why else would I be writing fanfiction for it, why else would I own the books? But I'm not immune to the issues within in it and all the aforementioned 'supplements' of the Twilight Universe just don't mesh well. It's kinda the reason I'm writing Eventide, after all, a both critique and a rewrite all in one.
So my reasons why things are not canon: Midnight Sun is of course, never been published and hence non-canon. The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner more or less... Is stupid. Seriously. It's really stupid. I mean, within in the book, we are supposed to sympathize with Bree, but she is literally having a God-damn conversation with someone while they sit on corpses of people. The whole Boat Massacre would be hella hard for people to fucking ignore, that would have been declared a National fucking Emergency! Not just mentioned in Eclipse as 'a series of unresolved murders' in the paper. So, I declare that stupid shit non-canon for Eventide. As for the Illustrated Guide- Well its crap. It's a shitty guide. Most of it is just retcons or rehashed things that Meyer had already posted on either the Lexicon(Free, much more detailed to boot) or on her own website. I own a PDF copy, which I did not pay for simply because it is not worth the paper its written on.
So, rant aside, what does that mean for Eventide? Simple. Any information not provided in Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse or Breaking Dawn is hereby declared non-important, non-canon and subject tweaking. As you can tell with Rosalie's P.O.V., I already changed things. More on that later.
So, I hoped you liked the chapter and I would love for you guys to drop a review. Your support means the world to me and I enjoy reading both praise and critiques(keep it, civil people). Any suggestions or questions can be addressed there, or feel free to P.M. me.
Happy Reading,
Moon Witch '96