Thank you so much to all of you who are reading this story! Special thanks to everyone who's following, favouriting, or reviewing it - it means a lot!

chellekathrynnn, Ella (power to Carys!), Ghostwriter71, MOI (yeah! She's not going to let them change her, or back down from what she wants, but she's definitely flawed! And ahh, thank you, I'm sorry they're a bit less frequent lately!), souverian, magicbustrip, TheQueenofGoodbyes, BMBMDooDoo- Doo- Doo- Doo (I love that about her too - she looks at him as someone she wants to be with, as she would if he were human, and doesn't let it blind her. She's lovely - but she doesn't let people think that means they can treat her wrong!), and Jane (ahhh, my heart melts! I promise the next two will be out asap!) - thank you so much for your reviews!

Chapter 25

Carys could hardly blame her parents for their surprise when she arrived out of nowhere on their doorstep that evening. Just as little as she could blame them for the way their eyes rounded further when Rosalie appeared at her side with a polite smile plastered on her shockingly beautiful face.

For two minutes, neither of them spoke, and the only move made was by Amy as she ran a hand over the top of her bump, trailing after stray kick.

Findlay was the first to recover, inviting them into the house so formally that Amy managed to find her tongue in time to tease him that, "You'd think the Queen'd come to tea!"

Rosalie's polite if unenthusiastic chuckle had Carys pressing a hand to her arm in thanks that she was trying, and the fact she didn't immediately push her away told her all she needed to know. Rosalie was going to endure the next half an hour before Emmett and Jasper arrived.

Amy and Findlay hadn't noticed the subtle exchange. They were far too excited to see Carys, even if her visit was as out of the blue as the fact she'd brought "Dr Cullen's glamorous daughter" with her. And even if they had, as Rosalie transformed completely before Carys' eyes, they had nothing to compare it to.

"It's difficult not to see the family resemblance," Amy told them once Findlay had headed off towards the kitchen and she'd led them into the living room and eased herself onto an armchair. Her wave encompassed Rosalie's hair and face as the vampire took a seat on the sofa beside Carys. "Blonde, golden-eyed, and far too beautiful to be fair to the rest of us. No wonder Carys fanci-"

"Mum!" Carys cried softly, her eyes widening. Rosalie, of course, knew how she felt about Carlisle, but for all her mum knew, they were still friends.

Every time she'd mentioned him to Amy in the past, she'd been hit with "he's se-very handsome, I'll admit, but he's too old for you", "he's got teenagers, right?", or, "does he have a lot of friends your age?" in far too light a tone, the undercurrent of disapproval so obvious that she'd not yet admitted their relationship.

"What?" Amy asked her defensively, turning to Rosalie with a smile as she smoothed her dress over her large bump and a far smaller bump ran in the same direction a moment later, drawing Carys' attention. "You do know you're stunning, don't you?" She asked pointedly. When Rosalie responded with a proud nod, she looked at Carys again and raised her eyebrows. "See? Now we've got that out of the way," settling back against the cushions, she waved a hand in Rosalie's direction again and slightly narrowed her eyes. "How long's my daughter been dating your adoptive father?"

"Mum!"

Rosalie appeared to settle herself more comfortably in her seat, smiling. "Well he's my-"

"Don't answer that!" Carys argued quickly, cutting across her.

Rosalie blinked slowly and looked between them, the look she sent Carys far removed from the smile she reserved for her mother. Carys felt her heart sink. Rosalie was being nice, and she was ruining it.

Amy smiled triumphantly and laid her arms out at her sides.

Rosalie glanced in Carys' direction again and bristled, adjusting her hair, still unhappy with the way she'd reacted. Carys sent her an apologetic look and avoided her mum's eye, rubbing her hands over her knees.

"Well?" Amy added when the pair remained quiet.

Carys sighed heavily, and refused to reply. She didn't have to. Her mum knew that she knew that she knew, so there wasn't really any need for anyone to verbally confirm it. Instead, she forced herself to relax and slumped back against the sofa, shaking her head infinitesimally. Just because her mum infuriated her at times, didn't mean she wanted Rosalie to think she, Carys, was rude to her mother.

Rosalie appeared confused as Amy immediately started to laugh. "Have I missed something?" She asked.

"You get used to it," Findlay informed her, carrying a tray laden with tea things into the room, clearly having been eavesdropping from the kitchen. "It takes a while, and it's fucki-" he broke off when Amy swatted at his leg, and waited until he'd placed the tray on the table before sending her a long-suffering glance and continuing, "-it's weird, but you do."

"It's not weird," Amy responded, pouting softly as she shifted her shoulders about. "It's perfectly normal."

"It's weird, is what it is," Findlay replied, side-stepping out of range in time to avoid another swat as he picked up the teapot. "Carys is the only person I know who can win an argument against Amy," he explained to Rosalie, as if she was a close friend of Carys' he'd met many times before. "But Carys doesn't like arguments, you see, so Amy likes trying to provoke and shock her in public because she can't run away - but she's rarely serious about it. Tea?" He asked, offering her the first cup.

Rosalie darted Carys another quick look, this one filled with an interest that made the technically older woman avert her eyes. Findlay held the cup out further.

When Rosalie began to shake her head and softly refuse the offering, Amy pushed herself up a little and fixed her with a round-eyed stare that Carys was more than familiar with. She'd lost interest in embarrassing her, and decided upon the importance of her guest. What she said next would determine if she liked Rosalie or not.

"D'you want coffee instead?" She asked kindly, putting Carys at ease. She liked her. If she didn't, she'd have offered water. "Coke? I think we've got some lemonade rocking about somewhere-?" She directed her question to Findlay, who tilted his head and ran his gaze over the ceiling for a moment.

"Do we? Do we...? Lemon-yeah," he agreed with a nod, straightening, his expectant smile matching his wife's as he focused on Rosalie again. " Not sure how cold it is yet, but I'll pop some ice in...? Or...," he added, raising and lowering his hands by his shoulders as if physically weighing the options. "We've got bottled water? Decaf coffee? I can run down to the shop and grab some orange juice...?"

Amy's smile deepened to a cheeky grin as she pushed herself up a little more and pressed her index finger to her chin. "Ooh, if you're out..."

Findlay twisted to face her. "Chocolate?"

"You read my mind," she agreed affectionately.

They turned back to Rosalie, asking in unison, "So...?"

Rosalie stared at them for a half a minute with the polite smile still plastered on her face, until Carys nudged her, and she took a breath, blinking exaggeratedly to cover herself. "Tea sounds absolutely lovely, thank you Mrs Vale," she said slowly, reaching forward to take the cup from Findlay, careful to avoid touching his hand. "Thank you. Carys tells me you met in London-" Carys did nothing of the sort. "-I imagine that explains the fondness for tea, Mr Vale?"

Carys' jaw dropped as Rosalie fell into easy conversation with her parents - who quickly told her to call them Amy and Findlay - for the next twenty minutes, exclaiming over their love story, their plans to adopt one day, and their subsequent surprise at their change of life baby.

So this is Rosalie, Carys thought to herself as Rosalie took over from Amy and told them: yes, she had "snapped someone up already", as Amy called it.

"... And I know that many people think it's odd that we fell in love so young, and in our situation, but-" Rosalie shrugged her shoulders lightly and finished her story, "-Emmett was adopted when we were thirteen, and, as I said, I am fostered."

Amy and Findlay shared a look that told Carys and Rosalie all they needed to know about their opinion on the subject. Carys felt the need to defend rise up inside her. Even though she'd joked about it when she'd found out, she didn't like the judgement they'd passed on their guest.

"Carlisle took Rosalie and Jasper in when they were orphaned," she argued defensively, "and then years later he adopted another ophaned kid, and they fell in love. It's not like they grew up together..." She trailed off but maintained eye contact with her mum for a minute whilst she and Findlay thought about it a little more.

"True," Findlay agreed, frowning in concentration. "... And, I suppose..."

"... If we were living a hundred years ago," Amy took over musingly, "no one would bat an eyelid if we still called them wards, and one fell in love with another..."

"Right," Carys agreed gently. "It's just, you heard adopted and fostered and went straight to siblings, but they're not. Not them, anyway." She decided to wait a while and see how it went down before dropping Jasper and Alice into the mix.

"It's... It's actually quite romantic, now I think about it," Amy admitted when she'd gathered herself, slapping her hands down on the arms of her chair. Carys nearly laughed out loud at the confused glance Rosalie sent her. "Fin, isn't it romantic?"

Findlay smiled and scoffed lightly. "It's not as romantic as you think it is, Amy but yeah, it's pretty sweet in a weird way... Like fate? Maybe?" He suggested, lifting his cup.

"It's like Mansfield Park!" Amy announced happily with a flap of her hands.

Findlay spluttered over his tea. "Except they're not actually cousins, and none of the rest of the story fits, Ames." He looked to Carys for confirmation, and sighed in apparent relief when she shook her head.

"True," Amy acquiesced, gesturing for her cup, which Findlay handed over to her in a moment, "but... Understanding each others loss? Thrust into a new world with people they don't know? Bonding?"

"Well now I feel like a dick," Findlay grumbled, grimacing as he shifted in his seat and turned apologetically to Rosalie again. "Sorry, we kinda judged without thinking about it."

"That's... Okay...," Rosalie told him hesitantly, her eyes darting between him and Amy. When they began to speak between themselves in low tones, she flicked her hair over her shoulder to better address Carys. "What did you do?" She whispered.

"Nothing," Carys replied quickly, hoping she was right. Though... If Carmen had been right that she learned how people worked, instead of forcing them into anything, then wouldn't that reaction be proof of it? "They're nice people, they just didn't think about it immediately...," she explained, deciding that Carmen was right. Neither Findlay nor Amy just accepted things willy nilly, and there was a thought process behind it she'd not expected or pushed them towards.

Either that was part of what she did, or it was just part of her relationship with them, but either way... She wished she didn't have to question it, but it was as if everything she did now made her wonder.

Rosalie assessed her for a second longer before she replaced her hair and looked away. "Well... Thank you... I guess. For Carlisle, anyway."

It was then that Amy noticed Rosalie's as of yet untouched cup of tea, and broke off her muted conversation with Findlay. "Don't forget your tea, lovely! Drink up or it'll be cold," she warned her with a smile, nodding towards Rosalie's cup as Findlay poured her another.

And something strange happened.

Carys watched in horrified fascination as Rosalie lifted the cup to her lips and began to drink. And drink. And drink. In fact, she didn't stop until she'd finished the cup.

"Lovely, isn't it?" Amy chattered happily, sipping her own far more slowly. "One of my friends sent us a few boxes because we..." Her voice faded into the background as Carys and Rosalie's eyes met, and the vampire shook her head, returning her now-empty cup to her lap.

"Why...?" Carys whispered, barely audible.

"You can never tell the others," Rosalie hissed under her breath, glancing in the direction of Carys' parents to confirm Findlay was still hooked on Amy's every word. She looked back and added, "Your life won't be worth living if you do."

"But... Why...?" Carys asked again, frowning in confusion.

"I..." Rosalie pressed her lips together and thought for a moment or two. "It's not the first time I've pretended," she finally admitted under her breath. When she caught sight of the understanding that softened Carys' eyes, she took it for sympathy and a dark look passed over her face.

Carys knew she'd made an awful mistake in letting her emotion show, but Rosalie didn't give her a chance to explain that she could understand missing things that made up home. And even if she had, Carys didn't think she could fully grasp the extent to which Rosalie missed those things after seventy years of watching other people enjoy them.

Rosalie stared resolutely forward, placed the cup on the table, and swiftly and smoothly got to her feet, silencing Amy, who along with Findlay, stopped what she was doing in favour of staring up at her. "Thank you for your hospitality," she bit out, clearly battling to temper her tone and appear as polite as she could in her agitated state, "but I think Jasper and Emmett are outside, so I should really go."

Carys leaned over the edge of the sofa to check the window just as, sure enough, a car with dark-tinted windows slid to a halt in front of the house.

"Oh? Oh!" Amy held her cup out to Findlay, who grabbed it and dropped it to the table, turning back to help lift her to her feet. When she was up, she patted his hand and swept forward, reaching her arms out to Rosalie whilst he headed for the front door. "Well it was good to have you, my lovely, even if it wasn't for long," she insisted, wrapping her arms around her hard frame as best she could with her bump in the way.

Rosalie had more than enough time to send Carys an affronted glance over her head before Amy pulled back.

Carys had the feeling if Amy hadn't been pregnant or quite so important to her father's girlfriend, Rosalie would have pushed her roughly away.

With a ladylike, "Well, goodbye then," and a last meaningful glare in Carys' direction, she swept from the room.

The front door closed a few seconds later, and Findlay returned just as Amy's expression eased and she melted out of the persona she kept up in public, back to the self she showed Carys and Findlay. "Didn't want to say before,-" she announced, eyes dancing in a way that made her appear far younger than her forty-six years. "-but that girl had some muscle on her, didn't she? Hard as a rock! Good on 'er too! Wish I was that dedicated to the gym."

Carys avoided Findlay's eye. "What did you think of her?"

"She was nice...," Amy mused, tipping her head this way and that as Findlay passed her to collapse onto the sofa, rubbing her bump as he passed. "If a little reserved."

Carys thought she must not have heard her properly. "Reserved!?"

"Might that have something to do with you?" Findlay asked Amy gently.

She winced and waved a hand in his direction. "Shush, you!" When he immediately complied - though, he did so with a roll of his eyes worthy of someone who knew that they were right but picked their battles - she turned her attention to Carys and fixed her with a glare. "Now. You."

Carys slid her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and steeled herself.

Findlay nodded his head along with Amy's words, and mouthed them too, as his wife put her hands firmly on her hips, and said, "Carys Ivy Thornton-Vale."

He continued as he reached for a biscuit when Carys predictably replied with, "Yes, Amelia Josephine Hardy-no-longer-Thornton-now-Vale?"

Amy snorted and failed to hide her grin as she held her arms out. "You look like shit."

"Thanks," Carys complained as she stepped forward and hugged her mum just as tightly as she hugged her back. "Missed you." She just couldn't tell her how much.

"Missed you too." Amy patted her arm when they separated. "Now go to bed, and we can talk about just how bad you look tomorrow."

Ignoring Findlay's suggestion that Carys might need food, Amy ushered her - slowly, and a little uneasily - up the stairs, leaving him to call after them that he'd make Carys something she could microwave later.

"If you're going to stay here," Amy warned her when they reached the right door and she moved one hand from supporting her back to lay it on the doorknob, "you're going to have to do something about your bedroom."

My bedroom, Carys echoed to herself as Amy let the door swing open, and she caught sight of it. Findlay raced to a stop beside Amy, but his excited questioning about her reaction went unheard as Carys near floated across the threshold.

The posters she'd left rolled in the corner of her room before she'd left England, every one of the books she'd sadly declared too expensive to ship across the Atlantic, the clothes Amy had told her they were going to take to the charity shop when she'd failed to take them to Forks after her last trip home...

Everything that made up who she was in London as opposed to Forks - down to the collection of university essays she'd hoped never to set eyes upon again...

It was all there.

Laid out exactly as she'd left it in London.

If it weren't for the room itself, the walls, the temperature, and the furniture, she would have thought she was truly home, rather than twenty minutes outside of San Francisco.

She didn't had enough left in her to cry, but her parents accepted the inarticulate thanks, tight hugs and kisses she gave them before staggering across to her new bed as well as if she'd screamed and run about the room exclaiming over every detail. To them, knowing her so well, it was just good, if not better, a reaction.


Carys heard them talking about her a couple of days later, after she'd pulled herself silently from the sofa and begun to occupy herself for the day by going to the supermarket and returning to cook and freeze a few weeks' worth of meals for when the baby arrived. Findlay had pointed her to the chest freezer the day before when she'd asked after ice cream, and the idea had come to her in between F.R.I.E.N.D.S re-runs.

It would be more useful a present than the blanket she'd bought and left behind in Forks.

"She's just so..." Her mum whispered as they stood together in the kitchen doorway, obviously thinking Carys couldn't hear them from the stove.

"I know," Findlay agreed hesitantly. "Is it compulsion this time? Or depression...? It's not the baby, is it?"

Carys fought with herself over whether to alert them to just how loudly they were whispering, but she decided to listen after that comment. She'd thought she'd been doing a better job of hiding her continued distraction than she must have been, and she didn't want them to think she was upset about her little sister.

"No, not the baby...," Amy replied slowly, and Carys could imagine the faint crinkling at the corners of her eyes as she puzzled over her answer. "I don't think she's stuck, either... It's... Oh god," she concluded, half-hearted disgust worthy of Rosalie lacing her words.

"What?"

Carys smiled a little to herself as Amy declared, "So much for our new American family." She hardly needed powers of observation to tell when her mum was rolling her eyes or had her hands on her hips.

The comment gave her pause when she registered the word new. So she'd just not thought to explain Carys was part of that family still? Shame rolled over Carys for thinking it.

"What?" Findlay questioned again with the despair of a man who was always being left out of the loop.

They fell to whispering just quietly enough that Carys couldn't hear them as she stirred the pot.

"Wha'd'you need to tell us?" Findlay asked, drawing her gaze as he squared his shoulders and crossed his arms.

She hadn't realised she'd been unsure of her answer until it was out of her mouth. "I'm staying in Forks."

"Well, yeah, 'course you are-"

"No, Fin, she means she's staying in Forks. For good." Amy explained.

"Well, maybe not for good, but..."

Amy held a hand up to silence her, and inclined her head. "He's too old for you Carys."

"He's no-"

"Carys, he's a grown man with almost grown children."

"Who he's adopted or fostered! He's kind, and compassionate, and-"

Findlay jumped in, raising his eyebrows. "And you're clearly upset about something he's done, so maybe he's not as nice as you-"

"I'm upset because he doesn't trust that he's enough for me," Carys explained quickly. "He thinks I'm just going to leave him one day - and I don't know how to convince him that he can share the bad as much as the good, and trust that I'll deal with it. Or," she added with a sigh as she rubbed her forehead, "how to explain that if he's got one bloody foot out the door from the start, I can't trust him either."

That was the conclusion she'd come to when she'd laid on her bed at the Denali house the day Rosalie had arrived.

Why he'd sent Rosalie - because he'd perhaps hoped that she'd be able to do something he wouldn't have over the phone. Something Esme might have been too kind to do.

It was why he'd not told her about himself.

Why he'd not told her about her potential ability - in case it hadn't just scared her, but had been the thing to drive her away from him for good. And he'd therefore hidden his suspicions from her - ultimately having to leave her to deal with the news alone.

It was why he'd waited until after she'd taken charge to tell her he wanted her just as much as she wanted him, if not more - though, she disagreed with that suggestion.

Why he'd not told her his plans, or kept her updated as he could have about the worst parts of what had happened in that damned ballet studio.

Why he'd asked Edward to beg her to forgive him for what happened on the field, and expected her to want to leave him when he'd knelt before her in the kitchen that night.

And until he trusted her as much as she trusted him - that he could see her at her worst and still love and support her... Until he could let her in and stop expecting the worst, and walking over her as he did so...

Until he did, and began to see her as a partner he could trust rather than someone who would, at some point, rip the heart from him as Carmen called it, there wasn't really any hope for them, she'd realised numbly.

Until he trusted her, he'd always have one eye on the end.

And that wasn't a relationship she could trust or have faith in. It wasn't a relationship she wanted, and she hoped it wasn't one he wanted either.

After a minute of calm silence following Carys' announcement, Findlay asked softly, "...Well... Why don't you just tell him that?"

"What?"

"Why don't you tell him that? You know, exactly what you've just said."

"Tell him," Amy added, leaning back with both hands pressed to the base of her spine, "that you might be younger than him - and-" she narrowed her eyes and huffed. "-not everyone's happy about that, but you're in this relationship as much as he is. Show him, remind him, you can be trusted. It goes both ways, Carys."

"But first," Findlay told her with a faintly devilish glint in his eye. "Give him time to think about what he wants too. Make him sweat a bit... It worked for me, maybe it'll work for you."

"But," Amy informed her, "we're still selling that house."


And so, over the next two weeks, Carys enjoyed her time with her family - including her step-grandparents when they made a visit - and gave Findlay and her mum as much of a break before her little sister was born as she could.

When Findlay had the last week of March off work, she made sure he and her mum had everything they needed, and whenever she got a chance, she worked a new list.

A list she added several points to when she faced the disappointment that her little sister would ultimately come too late for her to be in California for her birth.

A list that she continued adding to on the flight, and in the back of the cab that cost the last of the backpack cash.

The most important list of her life.

A/N: any guesses on what the list is? I've now cemented the epilogue for this section and it's making me feel all snuggly inside!

P.s. it's two months and a day since I started this story! What?