Hello! I wanted to thank of all of the amazing reviews that I received for the past chapter, especially Reality Bella, for without her review I would not have realized a big mistake I made! Thanks!! So, this chapter is therefore dedicated to Reality Bella :)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of SM STUFF.

Previously:

"Carlisle," I whispered desperately, "Carlisle."

I sank to my knees, knowing that he would hear me, and I hoped that the boy in my arms would hear it as well.

If the winding down of a song determined how much time one had left in a lifetime, these were those last moments when all that remained was the echoing of the bass plucking its final chord. I wanted to curse my speed, my slowness that dragged me down. I wanted to curse my feelings, my fear that wanted to carve my insides out. I wanted to curse my mind, my thoughts wrecking havoc on all my bodily functions. I recognized the feeling. It was shame.

I had felt this way several times in my relatively short existence. The first being when I was seven years old, and one of the roses that was woven into my hair fluttered to the ground as I was carrying the rings up the aisle as my aunt was married. It was a trivial human memory, but that was the first time that I experienced shame, even if it was not my fault. Even if it merely caused those sitting in the pews to chuckle slightly, dismissing it.

The second being when I was eleven years old, and I took my friend's coat, only because hers was red and mine was black. This was my fault, however, even if no one suspected me of the crime. Not even did the friend even stop to think that I was the only one that could have taken it, rather than the only one that might have seen who did the deed.

The third was when I realized…when I realized that it was not I that Royce wanted, but the image and flurry that followed me. When his rough hands wove over my body, I could not blame him, even if I did later on. I felt the shame that I did not satisfy what he wanted from me. The one thing that I could have given him, I did not want to give him.

Yet, this time, I felt the shame of not being fast enough, strong enough, just not…enough. I was giving up, even as my arms felt empty. I watched Carlisle carry the heavy set man into the house, and I straightened in a fury. I ran after them, grasping onto Carlisle's wrist, wheeling him around. I would not have been able to do so if he had not been so shocked.

"I need to be there," I glared, not as successful as I had hoped, my gaze flickering anxiously at the boy, whose name I did not even know.

Carlisle nodded at me wordlessly, averted his gaze to the floor, slowly. I caught the worry settled deep in his eyes. I kneeled at his feet.

"I know that I have not been…the most receptive, but I know that you love me. I know that. I came here with him, because…" I whispered, frightened.

Carlisle held his breath, and it seemed like an eternity. I refused to breath myself, for lack of giving in to that creature settled deep in my body, almost my other self.

"…because I did not know if I would be able to…to change him myself," I ended, and I heard applause behind me.

My face twisted into a terrible grimace, as I realized that only one would have the audacity to do so behind my back.

"Bravo, my sister. Is it actually possible that you actually care for someone other than yourself?" Edward murmured, attempting to conceal his sarcasm, for fear of being called out by Carlisle.

"Now is not the time, Edward. I," Carlisle stressed, but stopped suddenly, thinking.

This entire conversation was taking place in only a matter of seconds, but it felt like so much time that could have been devoted to him.

"His name is Emmett, I believe," Edward chuckled, a dark edge to his voice.

I spun so fast that my hair was a yellow blur to any naked human eye.

"What!?" I sneered; displeased that Edward would choose this time to torture me.

"I only imagined that you might have wanted to know the name of the creature you brought here…not that I do not admire it," Edward finished, and I rolled my eyes.

Deep in the pit of my stomach, I felt admiration for this brother, although I kept waiting for him to jab me with one of his comments that flared only with his terrible temper. He kept his mouth pressed in a thin line. Carlisle cleared his throat, drawing the attention back to him.

"I believe that I am going to need your help in restraining this fellow. He is quite massive, and," he looked at me quickly, as if measuring his words, "I do not know how he will react during the change."

I winced, remembering my own. How painful, how brutal. Carlisle looked at me swiftly, one more time. He analyzed the look in my eyes, and carefully pressed his limp form into my arms.

"Remember not to breathe, Rose," Carlisle warned, and my dead heart stuttered as I reacted to his nickname.

"Esme," Carlisle called out in a clear voice.

Esme appeared suddenly, leaving a scent of jasmine trailing behind her. She took in the sight of Emmett, eyes wide, and nodded. It was that sort of communication that I wished to have with someone. That wordless link that they shared. Could Emmett have that with me? I smiled slightly, pronouncing his name in my mind, wondering when I would be able to say it aloud.

Esme disappeared through the door into the living room of our house. The room was beautifully furnished, with pale yellows and dark greens. Our skin contrasted violently, and we hardly spent time in this room together as a family. It was all for show, not that we ever had visitors. I looked at Esme, and she seemed confused.

"She wants to know if it is alright if she sets the man on the sofa," Edward conveyed, "even if it will be ruined with his blood."

Esme nodded, and spoke, "Of course, my darling," removing the pillows from the sofa, and I laid Emmett slowly onto dark olive-covered sofa. I faintly wondered if it was comfortable enough, before realizing that nothing was going to be comfortable enough for what was coming.

Carlisle stood beside me, and I was startled by his approach, too absorbed in looking at Emmett's face.

"Now, Rose," he spoke slowly, "I want to let you know right now, that if it gets to be too much for you, I want you to leave, no matter what. True, Esme will be by your side to guide you, even drag you out, but you are stronger than her," he stole a glance at Esme, and he chuckled when she nodded back at him, "and you would be able to get out of her grasp."

"Yes, Carlisle," I replied, throat dry except for the ever present throbbing that called for the blood that was seeping from Emmett.

We all heard a groan, and turned anxiously, except Edward, towards the couch. Emmett was staring wide-eyed at me, only me, and I felt slight satisfaction.

"Hi," he murmured.

I cleared my throat, and warily whispered, "Hi."

Something in his gaze probed me closer, and I found my self inches from his face. The creature inside me reared its ugly head, wanting him. I fought to keep my expression calm.

"Wow," I heard Edward chuckle from behind, "quite the pervert this one is."

I barely heard him, and heard Emmett murmur, "I'm Emmett McCarty Salk."

"Quite a name," I continued, "Rosalie Hale."

Now he was the one that leaned forward, his scent whirling in my face, causing me to want to lunge at his throat, "The name of an angel."

I did not understand what was happening, but suddenly his lips were on mine, and I feared reacting, as much as I wanted to. I pulled back, his warmth still radiating on my lips. He took no apparent offense grasping my hand, and bringing it to his lips, kissing it softly.

"Nice to meet you," I murmured, before taking his hand into my own too, and pressing my teeth into the palm of his hand.

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