Disclaimer: I do not, nor will ever, own the Twilight Saga, or any of its characters and plots.


TW: This story will contain references to child abuse (physical, mental, sexual), self-harm, and suicide attempts (both past and present).


Isla

It was raining. Her hair and clothes (too tight, too short) were drenched. She probably looked like a wet mouse.

"Isla, you're okay." The redhead said, bringing her attention to him.

His words only made her question if she was truly 'okay'.

Didn't they want to kill her? Where was she? Is this were they had decided to end her life? An abandoned road… a motorcycle in a creek… a dead body… a forest…

Wait. A dead body? She scrambled away from it, utterly horrified.

"Oh, god, no. You killed him." She blurted out, her hands already beginning to shake.

To their credit, all of them but the redhead and the small noirette girl had perfect expressions of confusion on their faces.

"No, Isla, there was a wreck. He was killed on impact with the tree." The redhead said gently, looking at her with an almost indiscernible amount of pity in his eyes.

It was still there, though, and Isla couldn't ignore it.

"Y-yeah. That's what we'll tell the police." She said, looking away.

She focused on her breathing, making sure to take deep, steady breaths.

"Yes, but Emmett and Jasper will take care of that. Let's get you home, before you get sick." The redhead said, motioning to their car.

"N-no, that's okay. I'm s-sure it's n-not a long walk." She protested, not exactly willing to be put in a small space with three potential killers.

Then again, if they had super-speed, they'd be able to snap her neck before she could flinch. The thought sent shivers down her spine that probably had something to do with the cold rain intent on drowning her.

The blonde male caught her eyes, and asked slowly, "Would you like me to accompany you with my siblings?"

The images from his past flashed through her mind, and despite the fact that she should've been terrified, she felt oddly secured by them, like there was a strange promise of protection in them.

Would the others be offended, though, if she agreed with him? Were their memories even more horrible than his?

"Please." She whispered, looking down at her trembling fingers.

He crossed the few yards between them, removing his jacket and gently securing it around her shoulders. When it settled against her left arm, she flinched hard, and he stilled in surprise. The redhead was beside them in an instant, his gaze studying her arm intently.

"She needs to see Carlisle. It might be broken." He said to the others, and Isla tensed.

Why was her arm broken? Had they broken it?

"Go then. Emmett and I will take care of the human." The blonde girl sneered.

The blonde male offered his hand to Isla, and she instantly took it, surprised. Even if she had already seen his past, she was surprised that he was touching her.

It was… nice, however. Despite the coldness of his hand, there was a warmth pulsing between them.

The redhead turned up the heat all the way when they got in the car, and Isla huddled against the door, staring at the trashed motorcycle until they pulled away, the trees becoming a blur around them as the redhead sped down the street.

She leaned her head against the seatbelt, closing her eyes. Too much had happened in such a short amount of time. She felt uncentered, and a bit nauseous. There was nothing she wanted more than to sink into her bed, with Whimsy draped across her ankles, and her covers pulled tight up to her nose.

The jacket around her was soft, though, and the forest scent comforted her. She felt herself drifting to sleep, curled up in the backseat of the Cullens' Jeep.


"Not exactly broken." The vampire leader, who had introduced himself as Carlisle, spoke, studying the x-ray images he had taken of Isla's arm.

The blonde boy had arranged her arm under the machine so she wouldn't be bombarded by unwanted memories.

"Her wrist is fracture in two places, and her shoulder blade is cracked, but it is nothing too serious. You were lucky, Isla."

He met her eyes, giving her a soft smile that contradicted the coldness he had used when they'd first met. She looked down, hating the eye contact.

It just went to show how fake adults could be. One moment, they're trying to kill you, and the next, they're smiling and pretending to be your best friend.

"That being said, I will have to contact your parents – "

"That won't be necessary. Besides, who knows what phone they'll be using?" She quickly interrupted, her face heating at the confused look on Carlisle's face.

"They went to the other side of the world and didn't leave you a number?" He asked slowly, a hint of anger in his eyes.

Isla's heart began to beat just a bit faster, and she got off the table, ignoring the twinge in her shoulder when she moved it.

"Thanks, Dr. Cullen, but I had better get home." She whispered, promptly blocking out his response as she hurried out of the room.

The blonde and redhead were waiting outside the door, concern on their faces.

"You really shouldn't leave…" The redhead said slowly, glancing behind her.

At the top of the stairs to the third floor, the short girl suddenly appeared, her eyes focusing on Isla's face.

The hallway seemed to sway around her, the floor coming up sharply. The blonde managed to grab her before she slammed her head into the ground, sitting her up against the wall. Even being on the ground didn't help the dizziness swirling through her head, making her even more disorientated than when she found herself next to a dead body.

"Stop." Carlisle and the redhead were speaking to her, but all she could hear was the word that slipped out of her mouth.

"He's gone." She heard someone cry out, the voice eerily similar to her own, and yet, it was harsher.

"Who?" She asked, reaching out blindly.

Her fingers brushed against the redhead's arm, and she flinched back as images flooded her thoughts.

His memories weren't as horrible as the blonde's. The blood he spilled was dirty already, belonging to the lowest of the low. He had a reason to do all that he did, to protect innocents from the monsters that lived in the shadows, waiting to devour them. It was no wonder that he had been drawn to her; he saw her as an innocent.

Edward.

She saw Carlisle's lips moving in her mind, forming his name the moment he awoke to a new life.

Edward, son of Carlisle, the firstborn, the mind-reader. The protector of those too weak to protect themselves.

Isla felt the last of her fear fall away. They were trying to protect themselves from her, she realized, and now that they saw she was weaker than them, that she posed no real threat, they wanted to protect her from everyone else. She had become a part of their family in a matter of days.

She finally had a family, and they would be heartbroken if she didn't make it through this.


A/N: Thanks for reading!