AN: I forgot to mention that vampires, no matter what race, retain the pigment in their skin post-transformation. This means that black, Latino and vampire that had freckles, scars, tattoos, moles etc. will keep those. I just like the idea of a freckled vampire, and am in love with the idea of a tattooed one.

~~2001~~

"Go." Her father started pushing her towards the glowing, open hole in the ground.

"And leave you two alone and defenseless? Hell to the no!" She yelled back over the wind. She managed to wriggle her arm out of his grasp and pushed him back.

"He's right, Regina." Her mother agreed, looking at her lover. "You need to go."

"But Mama!"

"I said go!" Athena fiercely hissed. Seeing the look in her daughter's eyes put everything back into perspective and she swallowed back hot tears that were beginning to cloud her vision. They would never fall.

"It's for your safety as much as ours." Natalie said, grasping her sister's hand. Tears were forming in her eyes as well.

"She's right." Katerina added.

The girl sighed, knowing that she wouldn't win this battle no matter how hard she protested. No matter what she said, she would have to jump into the loud, swirling portal next to her and be transported to a location that her parents had hand-picked from a jar for her to go. None of them knew when they would see each other again- or if they would even see each other ago. Athena and Julian only knew that them separating was the best thing for everyone's safety.

Regina took a glance at the portal behind her. The wind emitting from it was beginning to grow violent and restless and the portal itself was beginning to swirl. She needed to jump before it closed, or risk losing her life.

"I love you." She met her mother's gaze for the last time.

"I love you too, Gigi." Athena replying, swallowing back her instincts to grab her and take her with them.

"See you on the flip side, Cam." She said to her brother.

"Gigi." He said and pulled her into a hug.

While in the embrace, she felt him slip something into the pocket of her jacket. Regina turned on her heels, the bottom of her boots scraping against the gravel of the alleyway. She took one last look at her family, taking in the pain and agony into their expressions and jumped, the portal closing behind her.

The portal itself consisted of a glowing multi-colored tunnel with 1970's-esque psychedelic patterns that were spinning on the "walls" of it that made her dizzy if she stared at them for too long. This in comparison to her dark leather ensemble made her stand out like a sore thumb, even though no one else was there. She soon noticed that she was floating in the tunnel. She pressed her hand into one side of the tunnel, and her hand instantly sunk into it. She stayed like this for a while, but soon saw the light at the end of the portal.

She passed through the end of the portal and popped out into a dark alleyway, her platform boots making a loud thunk as she landed. Regina hastily brushed out any wrinkles in her black duster and walked out into the bright street. From the sounds of the jazz music and trumpets, she was in Louisiana.

Regina managed to slip out of the bustling square and into a more inconspicuous street. She began to look around for a place to start setting up shop. She didn't need much; just a small room with some windows that she could open on good days, and a stable roof that didn't need many repairs. Regina had come from a higher place, but she knew that whatever found wasn't filled with thrills and frills.

She turned a corner and saw a group of men on one side of the street. Smelling the alcohol and nicotine on their breath, she knew what was coming.

"Look Stephen," One said. "You like her?"

"Oooo, yeah! Hey!" She didn't dare to look up and started running at her human speed.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!"

Even though he was somewhat intoxicated, he still managed to catch up with her. He grabbed her wrist and slammed her against the wall and his pack of low-lives joined soon after. One reached for the bejeweled Tiffany belt that sat around her hips. She kicked him and the ones next to him so hard that they were knocked out when they came in contact with the ground and proceeded to do the same with the others.

"Whatt…?" He asked. Regina punched him and he fell back to the ground. She continued walking down the street.

"What the hell's up with them?" She whispered to herself. " It's 2001, do women's rights not exist still?" She looked up and saw a tiny inn to her right.

"Oh my…"

It was extremely old, it probably hadn't been updated since the 1850's, but it could suffice for a temporary hide out. She walked up the stairs, onto the porch and jiggled the doorknob. Jammed. She didn't care though. Regina stepped back and kicked down the door with little struggle and got a breath full of dust.

From what she could see in the darkness, the original wallpaper, flooring, and furniture were still intact. Well, the wallpaper was very much debatable. But there was nothing that couldn't be fixed with a few weeks of repair. Regina stuck her hand into her pockets and began giving herself a tour. She felt the paper that Cam had slipped into there in her fingers and pulled it out. There was one word.

Find the Olympians.

~~Present day; Windrix, Colorado~~

The drive to Windrix was uneventful to say the least. Just snow, trees, mountains and the occasional elk. It didn't start like that unfortunately. The papers that she'd requested from her parents had accidentally printed her age as sixteen rather than eighteen. This happened fifteen years ago, so she called the family attorney and sorted things out. They weren't able to get the papers fixed, but managed to get the law to say that she wouldn't legally own the property until she was eighteen. But she knew that's probably when she would move so it didn't matter.

Once she passed the cheesy welcome sign, her identity changed. She was no longer Amelia Michelle Keenan; sewing prodigy, but rather Rebekah Natasha Perrington, a teenage girl who just wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle from the city. Not the most creative name or backstory she'd come up with in the past twenty years, but it allowed for her blend in easily enough.

Twenty years, thirty identities, eight homes, and multiple diplomas… What's next? She thought while shutting the door to her red 1975 Cadillac Eldorado. Passover day. By the end of the day, the place should be mine.

"Miss Perrington?" The sharply-dressed realtor asked once she stepped out.

"In the flesh." She replied. "I have the papers you need." Rebekah handed the woman the faux documents.

"It says that you're legally emancipated."

"Toxic family situation."

"I understand completely." She nodded and flipped through the stack. "Now, you understand that the place isn't yours until you're legal?"

"I do."

"Wow… how did you-"

"Our family attorney; the one thing they didn't keep me from."

"Well then…" The realtor said, signing the papers she had provided. "It looks like you're all set! I just need you to sign here and we'll be done." She handed Rebekah the pen, their fingers accidentally touched. She pulled back.

"I have Raynaud's." Rebekah replied without skipping a beat.

"That's a severe case then…" She pressed the keys into Rebekah's icy palm. "It's all yours."

…

"Excuse me, Miss?" One of the workers from the moving company tapped her shoulder and One of the women from the moving company handed her a clipboard with a paper and pen. She signed it quickly and went back to directing the show.

"Hey!" She barked to the workers who were moving her overlocking machine. "Be careful with that. If you dare to disrupt those threads, someone will pay."

"Why?" One of the young male workers said.

"Because," She walked up to him. "Those things are hella expensive, not to mention that they're a pain in the ass to thread. If one of you dares to treat this thing without care, you'll be paying."

"With what?" He smirked.

"Both your time and money. A good overlocker costs about five-hundred-and-fifty dollars and takes about a good twenty minutes to thread." His eyes bugged out and he went to go help the other worker.

"Was that a lie?" The female who handed her the paper asked.

"No." Rebekah replied without a moment to spare. "Combined, the serger and overlocker cost about two-thousand dollars." Her jaw dropped. "But they're necessary for sewing." She sighed. "So I guess that I had to get them…" Rebekah hopped back into the moving truck and picked up the last box, which she especially didn't want anyone to touch.

"That's it!" The workers who moved the overlocker into her house said. "You're all settled in."

"Thank you all for the help." Rebekah waved them off as they left and walked back into the empty house. Even though there were bright colors from plants and throw pillows, it didn't brighten up the place nearly as much as she wanted it to.

Now it's just me again… All alone, yet again… Should I get a cat?

Rebekah set the box onto the kitchen counter and walked into the powder room near the front of the house. She pressed her finger to her eye and took out the colored contacts that she had placed into her eyes that morning, which by now were nearly disintegrated. She discarded them and looked at herself in the mirror, smiling at her natural ruby-red eyes. She walked back into the kitchen and began pulling out her various diplomas and spread them out all over the counter. Seeing all of them really put things into perspective for her.

After a while of staring at them she began to put all of them back into the box, nostalgically looking back on the memories that they held. Her gaze lingered on the one from St. Catherine's School For Girls in Rochester, New York, that she'd obtained in the 1920's. That was where she learned how to cook human food for the first time, which had been a disaster to say the least. She chucked at the memories and placed her degree from Harvard that she'd gotten a few years afterwards on top of it.

When she reached the two MRS degrees she'd obtained during the 1950's, Rebekah scoffed. Both she and her mother thought that they were a waste of time but her father had convinced her to get it because it would allow them to blend in more easily. She hated going to college just to find a husband and was grateful that times had progressed past that.

But what hadn't progressed in Rebekah's life was her need to constantly get either a high school or college education. Why she had to repeat either one was a simple answer; to blend in with the mortals. Rebekah liked school and didn't have a problem with studying, she just hated repeating the same units of her studies over and over. She wished that she could just blow through school like it was no one's business. She could do it. After all, she had a high IQ which was credited to centuries of living on the Earth, but she still had to stick with either the four years of high school or the unknown number of years in college.

Next week, she would have her seventh first-day-of-school within two decades as a freshman. She wasn't too concerned with blending in because the human girls were progressively looking older and more mature as the years went by, so her twenty-year-old appearance wouldn't stick out much. But her ruby-red eyes, cool body temperature, and unusual beauty would. Damn this small town… She thought.

Rebekah placed the box of college and high school diplomas in an unsuspecting kitchen cabinet that she knew wouldn't be explored if she so happened to make some human friends. She pushed the box to the back and set the important documents that ensured her safety would not be compromised by suspicious minds. They were the last things that her parents had given her before they had to split. After locking up the cabinet and stuffing the key in her pocket, she heard a knock on the door and went to answer it.

"Hello?" She asked after opening the door. No one was there.

Ding-dong ditchers. She shrugged it off and went back inside. Immediately, Rebekah saw an envelope that wasn't there before. It so seemingly innocently sat on the counter, but she knew better. She raised an arm and instantly called it to her palm. The paper was thick and luxurious and an off-white shade, which helped her identify who sent it.

"Why would Candelaria send this?" She audibly whispered to herself and examined it. There was a blood-red seal with the pearl symbol on it keeping shut. Rebekah broke it and took it into her sewing room. She held it up to the black light and read the message; a list of names.

Carlisle Cullen. Esme Platt-Cullen. Rosalie Hale-McCarty. Emmett McCarty. Alice Brandon, also known under the names Alice Whitlock and Alice Cullen. Jasper Whitlock, also known under the name Jasper Hale. Edward Anthony Masen-Cullen. Isabella Marie "Bella" Swan-Cullen. Renesmee Carlie Cullen.

Rebekah's brain quickly processed the information and sent the names to long-term and continued reading.

Regina, you must locate them if we want to survive. From what Hayden has concluded, we think that they are in the same town as you. Gigi- they are the second-most powerful vampire coven with their muscles, mind reader, empath, a shield, and seer. That combined with yours, Pippa's, Hayden's, and Adrian's gifts will allow for our survival. We want them not only as allies, but as friends too, so don't botch it up.

We are praying for the odds to be ever in your favor, but that's mostly up to you and how you go about this. I love you, sweet girl.

Candelaria

Rebekah walked into her home office and set the letter down on her desk, and called her laptop over. It left its place by the charger and floated over to her instantly. She popped it open on her glass desk and saw that she had nine new emails- also from Candelaria. They were files, all with the names that the letter had mentioned. She opened the one titled "Rosalie Hale" and began researching.

Renesmee, or as the people of Windrix knew her as, Carlie, didn't want to go to high school. She wanted to remain the little construction worker that assisted her grandmother with her home renovation projects or the living dress-up doll that her aunt used for her latest fashion collections. Renesmee just wanted to stay home with her family and pass her eternal days reading books or composing lullabies.

The hybrid girl knew that she had to go to some form of school at some point in her endless lifetime, she just did expect for it to be now. But when her parents had brought the idea to her attention, she accepted. After all, she was finally old enough to blend in with the fellow incoming freshman.

Within hours of Bella and Edward's proposal, the cover story had been established; Renesmee and Edward would pose as Esme's distant cousins, Rosalie and Jasper would be Carlisle's younger siblings, and Bella, Alice, and Emmett joined the family via their romantic relationships.

But as the official day drew closer, Renesmee grew more anxious and self-conscious. By the time that Esme wrapped up plans for their next house, she was significantly more uneasy than she was when the idea was brought to her attention. At the time, she was in love with the idea of a few couple hours of independence from her overbearing, yet loving family. Now that they were settled into Windrix, she was nothing but a ball of nervousness.

"But what if they don't like me!" She complained to her aunts while Rosalie played with hairstyles for her.

"They will like you, Nessie." Esme assured, patting her granddaughter's hand.

Esme had come up with multiple theories of the origin of her granddaughter's newfound worries, but the most likely lead were the coming-of-age movies that she was watching for "research purposes." After each one, she stated multiple times that they were "unrealistic" and "superficial". So with that in mind, why was she so scared about hypothetical mean girls?

"What about this one?" The matriarch held up a white three-quarter length blouse that had ruffles down the front and floral patterns on the trim.

"No," She chirped back. "Too frilly. She's fourteen, Esme, not five."

"But she'll always be our baby." Renesmee smiled at her grandmother while Rose stuck a pin into her hair.

Alice smiled and went back to throwing an outfit together for her niece. When her body began the transition from young girl to womanhood, she grew tall and lean and eventually had the ideal frame for a supermodel. This didn't go unnoticed by Alice, and with her sense of style, she kept her niece in the latest trends, much to her delight.

"Rose." Alice said, gaining the attention of her sister. The blonde beauty turned to her sister and gave a nod.

"Can I see it?"

"No."

"But why?"

"It's a surprise!" Nessie sighed.

"Well okay…" She fake pouted. "I'm going to go to Millie's for some ice cream."

"Hair."

"Right." The teen said, sitting back down while her aunt continued to braid and pin her hair up into various styles.

"Alice." Rosalie called her over. She turned Renesmee's head in her direction.

"Maybe you could make the ponytail just a little bit higher. Otherwise, it looks really good."

Rosalie pulled out the elastic and pins that kept the ponytail in place and ran a comb through Renesmee's hair. She saw a lot of split and dry ends, so she probably needed a refreshing trim before school started. Alice moved their niece's hair to the place where she was thinking and Rosalie secured it with a scrunchie.

"Is this what you were thinking of?"

"Perfect!" Alice jumped, clapping her hands.

"Can I go get ice cream now?" Renesmee asked.

"Yes of course." She stood up and walked downstairs to the car.

A few hours after Candelaria had sent her that list of names, Rebekah had read nearly all of them. The files were sparse, as they didn't know much about this specific vampire coven. But what Rebekah didn't know was why she needed to locate this particular group. After all there were dozens all over the globe, but she didn't question it. She knew that whatever her godmother had her do, or whomever she had her locate, it was or a purpose.

By now she knew everything about each member of the coven, except for one; Carlisle. Surely this wasn't the same Carlisle Cullen that she had served alongside in the American Revolution! After the war, he probably returned to his family at home, wherever that was for him.

But what if it was? It could've been- he was pale and avoided the sun like smallpox. He never sat near the fire that Washington pitched for them, no matter how low the temperatures got. Now that the memories were all hitting her at once, she asked herself; Did the man ever sleep? The two of them would often be pulling all-nighters, caring for the infected and injured. They told each other many times to go get some sleep, but never did unless the General told them to.

Rebekah recalled the memory of how his golden hair shone under the light of the lantern she held while wrapping a soldier's leg that had been badly wounded during training. She remembered the smell of blood and sweat that lingered through the quarantine part of the camp. Rebekah remembered holding the men's hands as he inoculated them, hoping to slow the spread of smallpox.

He told me that he was a doctor. And what a fine one he was… Rebekah continued to smile at the fond memories that that icy winter brought.

After a moment of staring at the outside of the digital file, she opened it and began to read. After all that she had read, not much particularly stood out to her. But when she got to the list of his physical characteristics, there was a note.

Gigi, from what we can tell, this man sounds like the one you described after we reunited post-American Revolution in Paris. He's got the same golden hair, golden eyes- everything. If this is the same man, then we're in for a real treat.

-Candelaria

Rebekah nodded as if her godmother was in the room with her and read the bullet points she'd typed below.

*Physical age could be anywhere from 30 to 40; remember that hygiene back then was poor and non-existent.

*Golden blonde hair that reaches the nape of his neck and has the slightest wave to it.

*Very pale alabaster skin that sparkles under direct sunlight

*Kind and patient look in his golden eyes. Eyes also have a tired look to them

*Very tall, considering the time period he was born in. From what we've gathered, he's between 6'0" and 6'3"; so about your dad's height

*Fashion sense is Dark Academia meets preppy frat boy. This man wears and owns a shit ton of scarves

"Holy shi-" The words were faint on her lips as she read the words in front of her over and over again. This was the same man that she had worked alongside three centuries ago.

"Candelaria," She whispered into the room. "This is our guy. Now what?"

Suddenly, a sick feeling washed over her and her head began to feel faint. Even though Carlisle's family could be the key to defeating the Akeldama, she didn't want to put them at risk. From what she read in their files, they were a close-knit bunch, almost like a human family. Rebekah couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen if one of them died because of her.

But luckily, or unluckily for that matter, Carlisle and his clan were at just as much risk as they were. The Akeldama didn't care who knew of its existence or not, it just wanted terror, chaos, and agony. So gaining them would be an advantage… After all, they did go up against the Volturi and not get obliterated.

Rebekah shut the laptop and walked to the front door. Maybe the crisp, fresh, Colorado air would clear her mind and help her come up with a plan to not sound psychotic when she reunited with Carlisle for the first time in three-hundred years.

But how do you explain that to a man? She thought. No matter what man or woman you talk to, mortal or eternal, they'll think that you've gone mad. Why was I the one chosen for this part of the plan?

As she came closer into town, she kept her head up and her eyes locked on the crowd, searching for potential members of Carlisle's clan. Even though she only was going off of her memory of Carlisle's face and scent, she knew what kind of person he would choose to turn. She continued to look, but there weren't that many people in town. As she rounded the corner of South Street, she collided into someone.

"I'm sorry!" She quickly said. "I wasn't looking-"

"No, I'm sorry." A soprano voice replied. "I wasn't looking either."

"We're equally at fault then." Rebekah's lips curled into a smile.

"Yeah, I guess we are." The girl looked up at her. She had big chocolate brown doe eyes and long bronze-caramel hair that fell in ringlets down to her waist. Rebekah didn't see it, but the girl's eyes dilated at the sight of her red irises.

"I'm Rebekah Perrington." She said to the girl. "Just moved here, so I really don't know my way around." Her scent was familiar.

"My family just moved here too. Oh, I'm Carlie Cullen by the way."

Does your first name just so happen to be Renesmee? "Neat. Are you starting high school in a few days."

"Yeah, I'll be a freshman." Rebekah started to walk alongside Carlie and they continued to talk.

"What about you, Rebekah?"

"Junior. Should I expect to see you around, Carlie?"

"I take higher level courses, so there's a possibility." Renesmee continued to silently stare and make mental notes about the girl's appearance so she could recall her to Carlisle.

"Well then," Rebekah said, raising a brow. Little did Renesmee know that she was making mental notes too. "I'll see you around, Carlie."

She held onto the last part of the sentence for a moment, accentuating the Carlie part. Rebekah winked at the girl and walked off, the chunky heels of her boots clanking against the cement and her maroon duster swishing in the slight breeze. Deep down, she was secretly proud that she had already managed to make a connection with one of Carlisle's family members.

Once she got home, she took off her jacket and shoes and immediately went over to her computer and opened the file on the girl. It took a moment of scrolling before she found the list of the girl's physical characteristics.

*Physical age could range anywhere from 12 to 18, but actual age is 14 going on 15

*Long caramel or bronzey-brown ringlets that hang all the way down to her waist

*Skin is pale, but not as significant as the others. She glows in direct sunlight as opposed to sparkling

*Brown eyes, reminiscent of her mother's human ones

*Perfectly straight teeth and shell-pink lips

*Height is 5'7"

*Clothing style is practical, but also trendy and stylish

"We've found our girl…" Rebekah whispered to herself. "Now all we have to do is recruit."

AN: I hope you liked the first rebooted chapter of The Reawakening! I fully acknowledge that Rebekah comes off a bit stalker-ish, but the reason will be revealed… eventually… If you're wondering how Candelaria got the list of each Cullen's physical characteristics, let's just say that she pulled a few strings...

I additionally acknowledge that the cat-calling scene was cringy. No need to alert it to my attention now.