A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and all characters in this story. I just like to play oin the awesome playground she created.

December 31, 2006 - Forks, WA.

The line filed in perfectly with the other dates on the page, the handwriting impeccable. It had not always been this way. Writing was only one of many human skills and mannerisms I had to relearn in the years after finding my salvation. Alice had been very patient; always glad to help, and never disappointed.

It was one of the things I absolutely loved about her. She had spent twenty-eight years with visions of me, most of them of a brighter future. A future, where we were together. Where my eyes were golden, and I resembled more the man I was today than the soulless ragged shell she met that rainy day in Philadelphia. And still, she had never once been frustrated or discouraged. So pure was her belief in the companionship we would once share.

I could still recall how her small hand had wrapped around mine as she guided a few clumsy strokes to form her name. Of course, I could. Perfect recollection was a trait all vampires acquired upon transformation. It had been both a curse and a blessing to me. So many memories I would have preferred to forget but at the same time, so many instances—most of them with Alice—I never wanted to let go.

Due to our impeccable memory, it was entirely unnecessary to keep a diary or similar record of our immortal life. But that didn't stop some of us, especially those with semi-permanent residences, from keeping little collection of mementoes.

Carlisle, for example, held an impressive selection of artworks which he carefully wrapped and took with him whenever we moved. Thirty-seven paintings, all of them beautiful on their own. However, they only gained true meaning when they were put together in the right order. Neatly arranged on his office wall, they told the story of the kindest, most honourable and compassionate man I'd ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Esme kept a small ornate box with reminders of her family members on her nightstand. She had only recently brought it down to the living room to add a lock of Renesmee's first haircut and took the opportunity to show the contents to her niece.

I was aware that Alice had given her the first drawing she made of our family, back when it was nothing more than a vision in her head. But up until that moment, when Esme carefully placed the keepsakes into Renesmee's hands one by one, I had no clue what other tokens the box contained.

A small blue sock she had knit for her child that unfortunately left this world far too young.

A picture of Carlisle's and her wedding day.

A small piece of paper on which Edward had scribbled the first notes of the composition that eventually became Esme's song.

The single earring Rosalie still wore when Carlisle found her that night in Rochester.

A flower—now pressed and dried— that Emmett brought back from his first-ever hunting trip.

An Italian recipe she had printed out to try for Bella when she still was a human.

And a single brown button. I couldn't help but smile when she gently lifted it between her fingers, the memory of that day flooding my thoughts.

xxx

Alice and I had been with the Cullens for about two years. I had been very reluctant to leave her alone with the others for prolonged periods of time, even though I never perceived a single hostile sentiment from any of them. But eventually I had to get over that, and I knew it. Still, I was worked up when Rosalie took Alice down to New York for an extended shopping trip, and Emmett decided it would be best to take me out as well. Let off some steam.

We returned from our hunting trip only a few hours before the girls would arrive and while cleaning up, I noticed that one of the buttons on my shirt had come loose. Alice would just have thrown the shirt away instantly, but as someone who was used to wearing the same clothes over and over until they fell apart, I had an inherent aversion to this kind of wastefulness.

Having observed Esme sewing on multiple occasions, and thus expecting that she probably could spare a needle and thread, I knocked on the door to her office, behind which I could already hear the motherly vampire humming lightly.

"Come in," she said, and I slid through the door, finding her at the desk. Blueprints for an intricately decorated dresser were spread out before her.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Esme. I was wondering if you'd be able to loan me a needle and some thread?"

A warm smile decorated her lips and I felt excitement rush through her veins. I was still getting used to the tight-knit bonds that this coven—this family—shared and thus didn't rely on her or the others as much as they all did. As much as Alice had started to. Therefore, Esme always exhibited an extraordinary amount of thrill at the most mundane of my requests.

"Of course! Did you rip something during your hunting trip? You know, I could easily stitch that back up with my sewing machine," she offered, rushing over to one of the cabinets. It only took her a few seconds to find a needle cushion and a box full of threads in different colours and strengths.

"That won't be necessary, it's just a loose button," I declined as politely as possible, but she was disappointed nevertheless. It was a harsh contrast to her previous thrill, and I couldn't help but wince at the quick change in her composition. Her usually positive and warm emotional climate—like Alices—was very soothing and frequently drew me into her proximity. And it bothered me to be the reason for it to be clouded.

I reacted without a second thought. "But maybe you could help me with that? It's been a few decades since I held a needle and Alice would probably not appreciate the messy way in which we used to fix our uniforms."

"I would love to!" Her excitement returned instantly, and I took a deep breath as the wave of positive feelings washed over me.

Once I recovered from the initial overwhelming warmth that passed through my body, I noticed that Esme was looking at me expectedly. It took me a moment to realise why. She waited for me to take off my shirt so that she could start to fix it. This was something I hadn't considered in my hurry to return her emotions to their previous cheery state.

I could leave and change into something else before handing the button down over to her. But I feared—no, I knew—that she would be disappointed by that course of action, thinking I didn't trust her. Which was, after all, true, but nothing special. I didn't truly trust anyone except Alice and Peter. And I would definitely not have left my angel alone with any of the Cullens for one minute if I hadn't been convinced that she was more than capable of defending herself if the need arose.

But they didn't have to know that. Maybe Edward did, but if this was the case, he at least acted as if it didn't bother him. However, it would without a doubt hurt Esme. And no matter what, I didn't care to inflict pain on such a gentle creature.

Thus, I quickly reached out and took a firm hold of her emotions, before starting to unbutton my shirt. There was an initial spike of excitement which was quickly replaced by shock and alarm when my bare arms and the lower part of my neck were revealed. I still wore my undershirt, but the sleeveless garment didn't do much to cover the areas where bite marks were most densely layered on my skin. Hers was the natural reaction our kind had, whenever they first laid eyes on me, and it usually didn't bother me. My scars were a warning that had served me well in the past. But Alice cared about Esme. I didn't want her to be afraid of me.

I swiftly obliterated her terror and pushed the other emotions she was feeling—mainly concern and sadness, none of which I cared much for—into the forefront. It would have been an easy trick for me to let these feelings fade as well, curbing the excitement and happiness from before. But this was a change that someone sensitive like Esme would notice and I didn't want her to feel betrayed by how I played with her emotions.

Her gaze burned into my skin, and I quickly handed her the shirt such that she no longer had to look at the monster in front of her and could instead focus on her work. It worked. The pity subsided, all without me having to interfere.

Esme quickly found a suitable needle and thread and retook the seat at the desk. "This will only take a few seconds if you want to wait."

xxx

I had approached her later that day, as she carried the box back upstairs and asked why she had chosen the button. Esme had just smiled gently and ran her finger over the intricate ornament on top of the box before shifting her loving gaze to me. "Carlisle and I were a little worried about you back then. To us, Alice and you became family within a few hours. But we feared that after everything that happened, you'd never be able to see yourself as part of our family as well."

I averted my eyes, knowing how much she always hoped for me to be like Edward or Emmett. A true son, a real member of this family. I wasn't able to fulfil that wish, even today. No matter how much I grew to care, I would never be like them. This family was all they had. Even Alice had been part of it from her very first day, not in person but in spirit through her visions. But I hadn't. I had a life before this. Memories and experiences that shaped me. And they would always make me an outsider; a son-in-law rather than a true son.

"When you came to me that day, I realised that I didn't have to worry. You just needed some more time." Esme smiled and hugged the box close to her chest as she continued her way up the stairs. Even without my talent, it was obvious how precious the collection was to her. And it was nice to see how perfect it fit with her personality.

Maybe this was the case with all of our mementoes.

Edward, who was very musical, held a vast collection of records with at least one piece from every year of his immortal life. At some point, he had transferred most of the old pieces to CD such that it was easier to transport and play them. But I was sure that the originals were still in one of our homes somewhere, even though I didn't know exactly which one.

Alice, our resident fashionista, stored one item from all the significant fashion trends she lived through in an old suitcase at the back of our closet. From gloves to pearls, a feather boa, shoes, hairpieces and— of course—her wedding dress, the suitcase contained everything I could imagine and probably even more.

For a few years, I had suspected that Rosalie would retain a collection similar to Alice's, since fashion was one of her passions as well. But after getting to know her better, it quickly became obvious why she didn't and probably never would. She didn't like to be reminded of her inhuman lifespan.

That Emmett didn't have the desire to amass mementoes as well, didn't surprise me. He was after all the poster boy for 'living in the moment'. He simply had no desire to dwell in the past. The only thing I could imagine him collecting were the hides of bears that put up an especially entertaining fight, though, at the same time, I doubted that Esme would take kindly to him bringing home the bloodless cadavers of his prey.

My own collection was the smallest of them all. A single, leather-bound notebook filled with dates and places. Alice had gifted it to me when I started researching my own past, trying to make sense of everything that happened between January 4, 1863, and October 28, 1948—a task that had presented itself to be quite challenging since time had no meaning to me back then. Except for maybe knowing when the individual newborns reached their one-year mark.

I didn't have to write down and collect the dates, but I liked to. Marking the dates and places of significant events helped me orient whenever I decided to delve back into a certain period of my past.

The first few pages of the book covered several decades. It was only after Alice found me that the gaps between the entries became smaller. And they had become significantly shorter again when Bella entered our lives. Who would have thought that a single human could cause so much turmoil?

There had been a rather big gap between the last two dates—at least if it was held to the standards of the new 'Bella'-era.

December 14, 2006 - Forks, WA. The day our family lost their future. The day Alice and I left, not sure if we would ever be able to return. Or if there would be something left to return to.

December 31, 2006 - Forks, WA. The day our family survived the Volturi, regained their future and became whole again.

xxx

I put my pen aside and listened. The house was quiet, most of us had left. Everyone was cherishing the feeling of having a future again in their own way.

Edward and Bella had taken Renesmee home, where, for the first time in weeks, they could watch their daughter sleep without fearing that she would be taken from them. Emmett and Rosalie had left to celebrate the victory in their own way, somewhere far from Edward's exceptional mental ears and my emotional reach. And Alice was downstairs in the living room, spending time with Esme and Carlisle, catching them up on our travels.

I had sat with them for a few minutes, soaking in the soothing emotional climate but eventually decided that I'd rather spend some time alone. Shuffling through the notebook reminded me of why it had been worth the risk. Why this family was worth fighting for. And why we would persevere, no matter what fate threw in our way next.

I smiled slightly as the book naturally parted to reveal the page, I had spent the most time looking at. The third date had faded to a light blue hue from the many hundred times I had run my finger over it in remembrance.

October 28, 1948 – Philadelphia, PA.