Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all.

Rated M for several reasons.

Chapter 24 Loss Adjustment

FPOV

The house has an enormous illuminated hole in the side of it, which I suddenly vividly recall making.

Silhouetted in the light is a tall curvaceous woman, the light refracting on her long blonde hair.

"That's my Rosalie." Emmett informs me proudly.

"I told you not to hold her down." The Rosalie blonde observes with a sneer in her voice. "But oh no, everyone knows better than Rose."

"I'm sorry." My Liv Tyler voice squeaks out.

"Not your fault." Rosalie huffs. "And not the first time."

"Nope." Emmett chuckles, popping the 'p' and patting his slab like chest. "Whole house came down when I woke up. Dragged it halfway across the state before they caught me."

"You dragged it about nine hundred yards, ape." Rosalie drawls. "And we caught you because you got your legs tangled in the foundations and fell over a cliff with it."

"Good times." He laughs, surging ahead of us and crushing the protesting woman in a bear hug.

"Rosalie is Emmett's wife." Doctor Cullen explains as we follow at a more sedate pace. "She refused to go back to High School this time and as she is a fully qualified medical doctor, chose to work with me at the hospital instead."

I nod, because pretending to know what he's talking about seems like a good idea.

Jasper hops through the gaping hole and with one last glance back at the scene of devastation I allow Doctor Cullen to lead me round to the front of the building.

"Welcome." He says politely, gesturing to the open double doors that are streaming warm light onto the neatly raked gravel driveway.

Surreal, is a good word, I think.

…..

Taking a shower turned out to be the gentle edge of what has become a steep learning curve.

Vampire speed and strength are amazing and I use them at every available opportunity but there are times, the most mundane of times, when they're a complete pain in the ass.

It didn't take me long to work out why someone had removed the glass shower door and leant it against the far wall, sticking a post it note on it in the process. 'Do not touch.' The shower knob came off in my hand, dented but not so badly I couldn't screw it back on, though it took ten minutes. The shampoo whooshed out of the bottle with one squeeze and I had to skim some off the tiles, like spackle. Clean I plucked a towel off the rack, flinching as it snapped back and took out the entire light fitting. Fortunately I didn't seem to need the light to see. Vigorously towelling off I cracked two tiles with my elbow and when I opened the bathroom door I realised the other reason the glass door was off, as it crashed into the shower and then pinged back to hit me on the ass, splintering in the process.

Someone had laid fresh clothes out on the bed and I was touched that they'd left a dozen outfits for me to choose from.

Seven shredded piles of clothes and one hour twenty seven minutes later I carefully opened the bedroom door and made my way downstairs to see what awaited me.

…..

It's infuriating how I know some of this stuff already but can't recall why.

Though I remember, flawlessly, everything Carlisle and Emmett said some bits of it are more on my mind than others. It's difficult to explain how I can be recalling and thinking about all of it at the same time but choose which bits I want to focus on, and once again I can't wait to try it out at school.

Rosalie and Jasper didn't say much but when they did I found their words resonated with me. Carlisle was the cold hard facts, Emmett the lighter side, but the two of them, they were kind of the Yodas of the piece.

Be patient and when they come, the human memories, hold onto them and preserve them. It's so frustrating, I could describe in great detail the culinary horrors of French Week in the cafeteria, but I can't recall my home, or which of the faces I remember being in the cafeteria with were my friends. I can't remember my Mom, just a blurry face with soft brown eyes. I don't remember Jake, or him turning into a wolf, which is a shame because it must have been all kinds of awesome to see. My only memory of Gramps is him showing me how to bait a hook which feels like it was a long time ago. Likewise Renee, I can picture her husband better, I was in awe of the ex-ball player. I remember how I felt about my car but I can't picture it in my mind, could have been a Bentley for all I know.

I don't remember the party they say I went to, the fight, saving someone's life or falling in front of a car.

I don't recall anything of 'dying' in the hospital or being carried away into the night.

Yet the intense satisfaction of pulling out a large clump of cheerleader hair is still bringing a smile to my face.

I sigh and shift on my rock, might as well be a bed, feels perfectly comfortable to the new improved me.

Rosalie told me not to try and force the memories, what's still there will come when my mind's good and ready and all the important bits, the people I love, they won't be lost. I'm trying to trust that but it's scary, I can still feel how much I loved my family, what if I never remember them?

Of course I wanted to know when I was going to see them again, store them away forever in my new infallible memory.

I blow out a breath and roll over onto my front.

Nothing about that thread is making me happy right now.

I will not eat my parents but the four of them were so certain they even made me doubt it. The way I felt, when I first woke up? Humans, their blood, provoke a reaction a million times stronger they insisted. Even the thought of that still makes me shudder. And to illustrate the point Jasper described, in great detail, the night he nearly chowed down on my Mom. The story was familiar but the level of detail he went into about how he felt would have churned my stomach if I were still human.

A year, it will be at least a year before I'm trustworthy enough around humans to visit a mid-size town, let alone hug a relative.

A part of me thinks that's bullshit, but not a big enough part to put it to the test just yet. They were all so certain.

Besides, what am I gonna do, waltz into a house I can't remember and tell everyone I'm home?

I'll probably give 'em all heart attacks considering I'm supposed to be dead. I'd protested long and loud about that, who wouldn't? It's not like people don't already know. Rosalie was particularly scathing about that, even the so far unflappable Carlisle was visibly flinching. Scathing but right, unfortunately. They really do believe I'm dead and all the stuff that happened, that I can't remember, will all be forgotten in time, though not if my undead self goes waltzing back into town with red eyes and a bad case of the munchies.

I might only be eighteen but even I can see that ain't gonna look good on the evening news. Not when you factor in the Volturi. Vampire royalty, human drinkers and all round assholes by the sound of it. The biggest bullies in town. Even I had to ask Carlisle what he thought he was doing telling a bunch of humans that vampires were real, after hearing the stories about what they did to those who just threatened to reveal the secret. He didn't answer, just muttered something about someone called Bella and spent ten minutes inspecting his hands rather than look up for Rosalie's educational tirade.

Emmett was more pragmatic, explaining how we never age, how the people we loved do, grow old, get sick, die. Against the advice of the other Cullens he kept tabs in his own family, watching from a distance as the people he loved died off and new McCartys took their place. Surprising eloquent for such a natural clown that was the part of the night when I found out I couldn't cry anymore. And witnessed first-hand how much the 'uber bitch' that is Rosalie Cullen loves her husband.

Argh. This shit is like chemistry, impossible to understand and vital to making your grades.

A thought that's been worrying at me for a while muscles to the front of the queue, that and the suddenly unavoidable burning in my throat.

"I need to hunt." I announce, knowing that Jasper, lurking around somewhere out of sight can hear me.

"Have at it." He replies. "There aren't any humans around for miles but I'll be right behind you."

Yeah. Turns out the silent, brooding, sexy, boy from school is the vampire equivalent of the A-Team. Got a feisty newborn? No one else can help? Maybe you should hire . . . .

I break into a run, hearing and scenting him following after me.

I didn't realise, when I categorically stated that I didn't want to kill a human, that they'd sic the world's most fun free babysitter on me, Vin Diesel he ain't . . . .

…..

If you want fun, you want Emmett.

He's the one who's prepared to spend hour after hour indulging my new found abilities and desire to put them to the test. We've dug tunnels, flung ourselves off rocky escarpments, wrestled bears, jumped massive ravines, thrown trees at each other and generally laughed our stupid heads off. He's also the one who helped me repair the hole I'd made in the side of the house, since he has experience in that area.

If you want quiet but thirst for knowledge, you want Rosalie, Rose, she'll teach you anything, make up, hair, how to rebuild classic cars, win at Poker, if you keep your trap shut and listen.

If you want to feel secure you want Carlisle, he exudes calm care like a pheromone or something. And, unlike Rose, you can ask him questions without getting the bitch brow.

But if you want to learn about being a vampire, without sugar coating, you want Jasper, Jazz.

So when I was ready I deliberated who to ask about my randomly emerging memories, the gaps, and what they meant.

Carlisle? He seemed the easiest choice but some instinct has stopped me from forming the words every time I've had the chance.

Rose? No way. I like her but she's kind of 'fixed' in her opinions and even if she deemed to answer me it isn't necessarily her version of the 'truth' I'm after. I want to form my own conclusions, right or wrong. On that basis you'd think that Jazz would be the obvious choice, what with him being about as dispassionate as you can get without actually being an inanimate object. Problem is he's about as approachable as my former Principle, as in, not remotely.

Which leaves me with Emmett, Em, or Unky Em as he keeps insisting I call him. And I think he's probably my best choice, he might act like a dumbass, but as Rose says, he has hidden depths.

…..

The house is empty. Carlisle and Jazz are hunting and Rose has returned to civilisation for a couple of days, for her sanity, our entertainment needs, and more clothes for the newborn.

I know Em's around somewhere but since I've just hunted, full to the point of being sloshy and about as 'relaxed' as I can get these days, he's giving me a bit of space. I try for a soak in the tub but it's too little activity, within minutes my knee is bouncing and my mind is pinging around like a squash ball. Argh! I miss being able to laze around in my room with nothing of importance on my mind. I used wile away hours like that but I can't see it happening again. I seriously need to get a hobby . . . .

"Goddess!" Em's booming voice makes the walls shake and the water in the tub ripple.

"What?" I yell back. "I'm in the bath."

"I'm going on the internet . . . ."

I'm out and towelling off immediately. For obvious reasons I'm not currently allowed unsupervised access to the internet, there are things I probably shouldn't see and things I very definitely shouldn't do. I'm not bitching about the rule because I don't trust myself, I have vivid daydreams about going on Facebook and . . . .

"There you are." Em chuckles as I skid to a stop behind him, more than ready to be entertained. He's got a whole other persona going on in cyber space, several of them in fact.

…..

My craving for the outside world temporarily assuaged we retire to the living room to see if we can get me through an entire movie, a goal I've been working toward for weeks.

I almost made it, and I really, really wanted to know how it ended, but I just couldn't sit still any longer and once I started pacing I knew it was only a matter of time.

"How about a race?" Em suggests.

I raise an eyebrow at him. Even without my current advantage his ginormous frame is never going to be a match for me in the speed stakes.

"Pft." He snorts. "Like I'm gonna suggest a race you could win."

…..

Five hours later I crawl out of the caverns that riddle the area to find Em squatting on a rock like an evil Buddha.

"It's a good job I'm not afraid of the dark or confined spaces." I grumble as I flop down beside him. No cheating was allowed, we had to find a way through without making one of our own, good job I'm bendy.

"I told you to trust your instincts." He observes, struggling to keep the laughter out of his voice. "Your sense of direction is infallible, you just had to use it."

I can't be bothered answer. I actually feel tired, not my body, that damn thing could do the whole ordeal again and then some, but my mind. Maybe tired isn't the right word, but then relaxed isn't either, just pleasantly quiet. It obviously needs a good work out every once in a while, who knew . . . .

"How long have you been here?"

"Two hours."

"Pft." I've a weird certainty that he's not been here that long but I dismiss it, I'm never going to be as competitive as he is, in favour of the other weird certainty that now is the time.

"Em?"

"Yes my little caving Goddess?"

"Where's Esme?"