The peaceful pool of oblivion was overtaken by a visionless, searing, an all encompassing pain.

She couldn't make sense of what was happening. It seemed that she was trapped in some garish nightmare in which, no matter how much she screamed or trashed, a blazing inferno raced through her veins, stemming from the focal points of her pulse- her wrists, ankles, and throat. Despite her pleas, through her blindness, it seemed as though no one could hear her. The angel of death from before had also been consumed by this deep darkness.

Her body spasmed of its own accord, as if each thrash would bring her relief by extinguishing the fire. Instead, the flames within her seemed to be stoked by her movement. With every uncontrollable seizure, the pain seared evermore through her limbs as it raced it's way to her chest from her ankles and wrists.

A constant repetitive ringing replaced her hearing. The fire had moved upward to consume her face, her scalp, and even the tips of her ears. She screamed again, but could no longer hear herself. She now lie writhing in agony- blind and deaf.

Her torso arched off the table, her chest and heart soaring with the unfathomable torment that this hellfire had set ablaze through her body. Her heart tried, in vain, to reject the hurt before it too was totally consumed.

Her cognizance waned in and out, but never able to escape the stinging that followed her even into unconsciousness. The pain was so overwhelming that there was no chance to keep track of where she was or how long she had been burning. Without knowing how much time had passed, her entire body was now fully comprised of the fires that had surely turned her to ash.

Swirls of white, black, and red eventually overtook the singular darkness that she had very nearly embraced. She wished with her entire being that she had.

Soon, the darkness completely left her, leaving her writing in scarlet and white fury. She clawed at her sides, finding no purchase as she still was completely unable to feel anything that held her. She begged without hearing her own voice for the blackness to return, for anything to stop this misery, but all to no avail.

Pieces of her shattered there in her silent, muted screams. Whatever was left of her to shatter. She couldn't remember anything left of herself, other than the feeling of complete and utter betrayal. Her mind was drowning.

Then, suddenly, through the pyre she started to feel. There were phantom limbs dangling limply from her torso. Her arms and legs felt still dead- all the while still burning in her torment. They just simply existed now; she felt her fists, though still doused in fire, and she felt her nails dig into her palms as she suffered.

With this change, something else shifted. Where the pain stayed constant, she could now think around it. Comprehension came back to her body in small increments. While she could still not hear her own screams, she felt how raw they had made her throat. With no marker to pass the time, thus leaving her buried in the flames, she resorted with her new comprehension that it did no good to scream. It could have been minutes, hours, or days, but no amount of screaming had made the suffering dull at any point. As soon as she had that thought, she felt her mouth immediately clamp shut in a whimper. Feeling was all she had.

With her newfound comprehension she debated where exactly she was. She remembered the starkness of the pale room just before the fire began and the blond angel that had brought her here. There was a vague sense of recognition as she visualized his face now, but it was on the edge of her perception and just far away where she couldn't give him a name. She knew it, but couldn't seem to remember. She huffed and furrowed her face as she thought and fought against the veil of agony that seemed to blur her memories. She felt her body collapse into itself as she crumpled into a fetal position on her side, now wholly able to feel her surroundings though the burn. She was laying on something soft; not that it mattered, it did nothing to quench the fire that still raged through her limbs.

Despite not growing up entirely religious, the fire that held her captive led her to believe that she had died and she was in her own personal hell. Still blind and deaf, she hadn't been able to pick up any sign that she might be correct, but what other place could this be in which she would be subjected to such unimaginable torment. For now, she would believe so.

Then, the hand on eternity's clock ticked forward. Time slowly began to mean something again. Another milestone against the everlasting pain. She discovered that beyond just basic comprehension and feeling, she could now also hear as if she were emerging though a deep pool. It was imperfect, but it was progress.

At first it was just incoherent mumbling, but little by little she was able to decipher words.

"I'm sorry."

It was mumbled in a string of apologies that meant nothing to her.

"Forgive me. Please, forgive me."

The voice came from behind her as she remained on her side in a crumpled heap. Even if she had been able to see, she felt as though the effort to move would be too much. The pain, by some miracle, was slowly fading from her fingertips and toes. She didn't want to risk a relapse by any movement she caused.

She measured time now by how much the fire had faded from her extremities. However, in a cruel caveat, she realized that it didn't matter whether she moved or not, the flames were determined to persist elsewhere- namely her heart.

With every wet, frantic beat that now thudded in her ears, the pain dripped away from her hands and feet, leaving them blissfully pain free, but travelled inward to her heart. Every beat seemed to fan the flame there, making it rage on impossibly faster and hotter than ever before.

Against her better judgement, she let out another cry of anguish. The voice behind her apologized again.

Her mind also now raced at a pace that was previously unfathomable to her, thinking of many things at once. One section of her mind was entirely devoted to persevering through the torture, while another wondered why on earth the anguished voice behind her kept apologizing through every agonized cry that slipped through her gritted teeth. Surely the voice could not be capable of inflicting such pain. It seemed instead that the owner of the voice was guarding her, making sure that no other torture befell her. In her mind, she also believed that the kindness and compassion that radiated through this voice beside her was the one making it go away.

Another eternity later, as the fire in her chest doubled and she cried out again with resounding fervor, another voice entered the room with a crash of a door being slammed open. Heavy footsteps, followed by another lighter set, crossed the room briskly. Another crash.

"What were you thinking, Carlisle," the new voice said angrily, " Rosalie Hale?"

Her name. She remembered through the fog that she was indeed Rosalie Hale.

This voice was clearly exasperated with thinly veiled fury oozing through his tone. However, that was not why she flinched; she didn't like the way he said her name- like there something lesser about her. Something wrong with her. She listened closely.

"I couldn't just let her die," the first voice, Carlisle, sighed.

A heavy pause. No response.

"It was too much waste- I couldn't leave her," he repeated in a whisper. "If you had just seen what those monsters had done to her."

With newfound clarity, Rosalie remembered it. It had been previously buried by the flames, but now something even more sinister was lurking behind her blind eyes. Her memories of that night came back to her in sudden, overwhelming clarity. She wasn't sure how long ago it was now, but she remembered it and she hunched in on herself as an ache settled in beside the fire and she felt cool tears trickle down her face. There were no words.

The silence that followed echoed in her ears almost as much as the deafening ringing had. Her face felt numb as her lips trembled with a silent sob.

As she lie there, she felt the other three people in the room. She heard their breaths along with her own furiously beating heart.

Another heavy sigh punctuated the silence.

"Don't you think she's a little recognizable though? The Kings have put out a massive reward for anyone who knows information on her whereabouts- not that anyone suspects the fiend."

"Edward."

"No, I know."

This time a female voice spoke for the first time.

"What will we do, Carlisle?"

"I'll wait a few weeks to avoid suspicion at the hospital. When she wakes, you and Edward should go with her to Alaska."

Rosalie frowned, what could possibly be there for her in Alaska?

"And if she decides to leave?" Edward prompted, echoing Rosalie's own thoughts.

"We must insist that until after her thirst is under control that she remain with us," the female voice all but begged.

There was another pause, this one more uncomfortable than the others.

"I'm sorry," Edward began, "You know that it is her choice though. I don't want her to make the same mistakes I did and resent you for any reason." He sighed, hesitated again, before adding lowly, "Perhaps you might want to think about what you want to say to her. She's cognizant."

Another wave of suffering crashed into Rosalie as her legs and arms cooled, but her heart thundered unbelievably faster. She unwillingly let out another shallow cry, but this time felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. The stranger's fingers massaged comforting circles into her skin.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," the feminine voice murmured. "It'll be over soon. We'll be here to help."

Despite the love and sincerity of her words, they still meant mostly nothing to Rosalie. The only thing that Rosalie could hang on to was the promise that it would be over soon.

.o.

Through all this, the fire in her heart continue to scorch and burn. Her sobs died in her throat and she could smell the salty tears as they dried on her face. She continued to sob, but now no moisture came from her eyes.

She heard soft conversation between Carlisle and the woman from earlier; his doubts on if he did the right thing confused Rosalie most of all. The woman, Esme, she learned, was full of endless reassurance. She endlessly promised Carlisle that his heart was still in the right place, that Rosalie wouldn't hate him for what he had done.

"Love, I know you think I acted accordingly, but you didn't see-" his voice cut off in a strangled whisper.

There was a faint rustle of clothing as she leaned into him.

"Perhaps no one knows as well as I," she whispered. Rosalie frowned. Did this Esme truly understand? Rosalie hugged her knees in close to her body as her chest spasmed again with another sharp flicker of fire that ravaged her center. "And yet," Esme continued, "I forgave you. I'm thankful you did what you did because it brought us together."

Though another free corner of Rosalie's expanded mind her heart shattered for her own broken trust and false love. Her physical pain muted the full extent of her heartache, but the deeply rooted betrayal stung and throbbed right along with the fire that she had started to become so accustomed to.

"Perhaps I don't need Edward's gift to know why you really did this."

Carlisle shifted, his chair scraping against the hard wood flooring. The silence was his answer.

"You must be careful. He mustn't know until it's the right time. Remember to guard you thoughts like we practiced," Carlisle's voice was urgent. "I really fear for what his reaction might be should he find out too soon."

"I have faith that things will work out the way they should." Esme's sure and loving demeanor was unwavering.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he mumbled. Rosalie heard them share a chaste kiss and she screwed her eyes tighter shut against the ache. She tried to concentrate on anything else.

Her breathing stopped abruptly as she realized through this concentration that she could hear everything. There was a car outside, pulling into the gravel driveway. She heard the wind whistle through the trees there, owls hooting as their wings flapped thickly. The engine of the car abruptly cut, a car door slamming, and heavy angry footsteps impossibly fast as they came inside.

Before she could debate on that, though, the fire in her throat shifted. Despite being almost extinguished everywhere else, her throat remained in pain. This one was new, though, dry and parched as she swallowed reflexively against it. The burning in her chest and aridity in her throat made her writhe in excruciation once more.

It shifted again, so abruptly, and without warning as she let out another uncontainable scream. Her heart beat so rapidly that each beat was imperceptible from the last. The heat of the fire blazed into one long sustained flash of fury and agony as Rosalie cried out again and again, losing control of herself despite knowing that her cries wouldn't do anything.

The new frantic prolonged beating of her heart set a fresh panic in her mind as she wondered, not for the first time, what could possibly be happening to her. This renewed anguish the burn felt as if only her chest were a controlled inferno. The furious heartbeat was so loud it echoed between her ears, surely they could hear it too?

In fact, they could.

"Carlisle. Her heart."

"It's almost over," he answered.

The relief she felt at his words was immediately overshadowed by another horrible spasm that ripped its way through her body in support of the flame. She clawed with her fingernails at her own chest before Esme came close to her, her gentle but firm touch around Rosalie's hands pulling them away.

"Don't," she whispered in Rosalie's ear. "It won't help."

Unable to stop herself, Rosalie clawed once more and it was followed by a tense screeching sound, like nails on a chalkboard. She felt a crack form on her chest from where her fingers had just trailed. As if her skin were made of marble.

Fresh panic seized Rosalie and her breaths came in short gasps between waves of panic and pain.

"Stop, stop. It's okay. It'll heal in a moment." She felt Esme's hands around her's again and this time she allowed Esme to pull her hands away with a choked sob.

The fire ripped hotter through her heart again. A single sustained beat. Then there was another quiet weak thud and all was silent.