A/N:

Okay, first hunt for Emmett, and he's alone with Rosalie. What do you think will happen here? What do you want to happen?

Title: Origins: Destiny in the Mountains

Author: MarieCarro

Beta: Alice's White Rabbit

Pre-reader: OnlyInValhalla

Genre: Family/Supernatural

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Emmett Brian McCarty never had much in life, but growing up poor didn't stop him from enjoying life and all its pleasures.

However, always seeking thrills most often means it will end badly, and one day, while hunting for game in the mountains, Emmett meets his destiny. Canon. ExR

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

CHAPTER 5

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 17th – FRIDAY, APRIL 19th 1935

The cougar was … not good. I wasn't going to pretend I liked it because I really didn't. The taste was strangely sweet and not what I'd been expecting, but I drank it dry anyway because I was almost too thirsty to care. At least, until it was empty.

When I was done, I looked down at myself and noticed that my shirt, which had held together for years, was nothing but scrap material now, and whatever was left of it was stained red with blood.

"I should have expected that," I said to myself. "Gettin' killed by a bear and then wrestlin' with a cougar usually requires armor."

Rosalie let out a soft laugh that made me smile.

"You have an answer to everything, don't you?" she asked, and the smile lingered in her eyes, which had transformed into a glorious golden color after her own kill. The unnatural hue of her eyes only enhanced her beauty further, and I found myself walking closer to her.

We were alone, and usually when that was the case, and I was in the company of an attractive lady, I worked my charm on them until they willingly came to me. It was the game I had played for years, and it had never failed me.

Now, I gave her a one-shoulder shrug. "I try. I find life easier to deal with if you add a little bit of fun into it."

As I drew nearer, I noticed how she glanced at my exposed chest. I knew my build impressed a lot of young women, and Rosalie wasn't an exception. She was clearly affected, but I enjoyed her glances more than those I'd received from others in the past.

"It's clear you and I have led two very different lives," she replied and leaned back against the rock wall behind her. If she did it to create space between us was unclear.

"I'd love to hear more about you," I said, and I was close enough to have to bend my neck to maintain our eye contact. Rosalie wasn't particularly short. If I had to say so myself, I thought she was the perfect height for someone like me. "And introduce you to the fun side of life."

I grinned and took another step toward her. She placed her hands on my chest, but she wasn't stopping me either because there was no force or strength behind the action. Then I heard the approaching steps of one of the others, but I ignored them and gave all my focus to Rosalie. Hopefully, they'd get the hint and realize we were busy.

Both of my hands were placed on the rock, effectively trapping Rosalie between them, and while the desire in her eyes was subdued by something I couldn't read, it was there, and I thought I just needed to coax it out of her.

"I know we just met," I said and leaned even closer. "But I have to tell you that you are the sexiest woman I've ever laid my eyes on."

She let out another little laugh and finally reacted the way I hoped by sliding her hands up my chest and around my neck until her fingers interlocked. "You really think so?"

"Without a doubt," I said, completely truthful in every word. I couldn't even imagine lying to Rosalie. She was my angel, and angels deserved better than lies.

And I saw it. Her unadulterated desire just before she pulled me in and our mouths connected in the most explosive contact I'd had with a woman, ever.

It was everything. And it was completely new. The sensations of touching her and kissing her were out of this world, and I almost had the need to consume her just so I always could feel that way. I wanted her more than I'd ever wanted anybody, and I was quickly becoming impatient.

I had never compromised a woman in public, though, because despite my reputation of being a womanizer, I wasn't a complete animal. Even though times had changed since my parents were young, and a woman could only ever be with her husband, if her promiscuous actions became widely known, she would always carry that stigma around. So I always went to the girl's place because then it was me who had to walk the proverbial walk of shame, not them. For some reason, people cared less if a man was the easy one.

There was uncertainty in me that I'd be able to wait until we got back to the house when I was with Rosalie now, though, and as I touched her, my hands steadily grew more brazen in provocative and suggestive ways.

However, when I pushed the length of my body against hers and roughly kissed her neck, I immediately felt how she froze up, and the tiniest whisper escaped her.

"Stop it."

Of course, I immediately did and took a step back, worried I'd gone too far or hurt her in some way, which was the absolute last thing I wanted.

As soon as there was space between us, Rosalie clenched her hands into fists and swiftly turned around to punch the rock wall behind her. I watched in equal fascination and horror as her delicate hands demolished the stone while she screamed bloody murder.

I didn't know what to do, so I just stared at her as she vented her anger. Eventually, it appeared to drain away, but instead of helplessly falling to the ground, she leaned her head against the stone and gouged her fingers deep into it.

"They're dead," she told herself quietly. "They're all dead. I made sure of that myself."

Still uncertain what to do, I kept my distance as I spoke. "Might be a stupid question, but are you all right?"

She inhaled deeply before she let go of the stone and turned back around to face me. "No, I am not." She deftly smoothed down her hair and straightened her dress out, which had gotten a bit crumbled because of me. "There are … things that happened to me in my past. Things I'd rather not talk about."

I nodded. "And I respect that," I said. "However, if what I did was out of line, I need to know, just so I don't do it again."

"No, it's not you," she said and shook her head in frustration. "I don't ever want you to believe that it's you."

"Then what?"

She gave me a devastated look that made me want to beat the hell out of whoever was the cause of it, but then she turned her back to me. "Some of your … advances just made me remember, that's all."

I tried to make sense of her words, and when I finally made the connection, I felt sick and more furious than I'd ever been in my entire life. Forcing oneself on a woman was something I'd never understood why some men enjoyed, but understanding that Rosalie, my angel, had been subjected to it made the concept of it a thousand times worse.

"Are you sayin' that—" There was no bile rising in the back of my throat, yet I had to swallow as if it were. The taste in my mouth was tangy and bitter, though. It had tasted the same just before I attacked the cougar, and I wondered if vampire saliva simply had that taste.

"I said I don't want to talk about it," Rosalie interjected before I could collect myself and continue my question.

"Right. I'm sorry," I said and held up my hands to show her I wasn't going to react negatively toward her wish.

She gave me a small, but still quite tight, smile. "You don't have to apologize. You haven't done anything wrong. And I don't expect you to understand any of it. I dealt with what happened to me in the only way I could, and I just have to live with it now."

I sat down on a boulder several yards away from her even though my body told me to do the opposite. Physically, I didn't want to sit still and talk because I was still pumped with energy, but I had a feeling the two of us needed to have this conversation. "No offense, but it doesn't sound to me as if you've dealt with anythin'."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

It was obvious I was treading into dangerous territory, but the woman in front of me was already so very important to me, and the last thing I wanted was for her to hurt if I could do anything about it.

"You say you don't want to talk about it, and that's fine with me," I assured again. "But it has me wonderin' if you've ever talked about it."

Her jaw clenched in anger. "I don't need to talk about it. It happened, and I got my revenge. That's all there is to it." She started to walk off but looked at me over her shoulder. "I don't know about you, but I'm still thirsty. Are you coming with me?"

{=DITM=}

It didn't take particularly long for me to understand the dynamic between the members of the family I had been taken into. Their roles were clear-cut and uncomplicated.

Carlisle was the leader, no doubt; the provider; the man of the house. Whatever he said was what happened.

Esme was the caregiver. She made sure everyone had whatever they could possibly need, and I was no exception to that rule. When it was obvious that none of Edward's or Carlisle's clothes would work as replacements for my torn shirt, she took it upon herself to buy me everything I could need. I'd felt awkward accepting such an elaborate gift, especially when she handed me dress pants and suit jackets, and there wasn't a trace of denim or sturdy cotton in sight. Still, it was impossible to say no when she gave me her lovely and motherly smile.

Edward was the prodigy; very troubled for reasons unknown to me, yet he couldn't do much wrong in either Carlisle's or Esme's eyes. If he shied away and kept to himself, it was because his gift weighed him down. It was never explained as him simply being somewhat anti-social.

The complete opposite could be said about Rosalie. She was the black sheep, the outcast. However, the interesting part was that she didn't strive to even attempt to fit into the family either. On the contrary, she did everything she could to keep herself separated from them.

Her name for example. When they moved from her hometown of Rochester—I knew she was a Yankee—to West Virginia, she had refused to take Carlisle's last name. She had instead stubbornly insisted to keep her human one.

When I'd asked her about it, the only thing she told me was that she would explain another time.

Still, despite the lack of understanding between the four of them, it was obvious Carlisle and Esme loved her like a daughter, and Edward also cared for her, even though he rarely showed it.

Where I was supposed to fit in was yet to be determined. They had all been fascinated when I told them my story and what kind of life I'd been living, and although only Carlisle could truly relate to such a simple life since he'd been living the same way before he was turned into a vampire in the 17th century—I'd startled a bit when he told me how old he was—all of them accepted me as part of the family right off the bat.

While that was a relief, I wasn't completely sold on their life. There were too many rules to abide by. I'd always seen myself as a free man, especially when I was checking my traps in the mountains or otherwise hunting. It was the most liberating feeling of all.

Being told what I could and could not do had never set right with me, and I had yet to see the benefits of living in hiding the way my new family did.

What guaranteed my stay with them was my angel. I already knew I'd follow her anywhere in the world, and if being close to her meant I had to live a life of abstinence—which was what it felt like—then that was something I was willing to do.

Of course, that didn't mean I didn't struggle, and not feeling fully satisfied made me somewhat irate. I kept it well under control around the others, but Rosalie's continued aloofness about anything that had to do with her had a tendency to make me lash out at her.

It didn't make me feel particularly guilty, though, because Rosalie held her own very well in any sort of discussion or fight.

"Why can't you just let it go? I've told you that I don't want to talk about it," she growled at me on our next hunting trip.

"Because I'm tired of hearin' you say that you'll tell me later," I retorted, quite angry myself. Why couldn't she see that it was for her sake that I needed to know what was eating at her? "The wall you've built up might protect you right now, but it affects me as well."

"How so?" she asked and crossed her arms while narrowing her eyes.

I walked closer to her but made certain to not trap her. After what she'd gone through, I was sure she needed to feel like she had the chance to get away.

To her credit, she didn't stand down. She only had to tilt her head up the very slightest to keep looking into my eyes, and I admired that silent strength.

"It's been two days since my change, and I haven't been able to stop thinkin' of touchin' you and kissin' you again," I said honestly. "I imagine it vividly; fantasize about it. So much so Edward can barely look me in the eye." I gently touched her silky hair and placed it behind her ear to keep it from blowing in her face. "I want to be able to touch you like that without you freezin' up on me."

Her golden eyes were soft like honey, but her mouth remained pursed in defiance. "And what makes you think I want you to touch me like that?" she asked, but I could too easily see beyond her harsh words. Her true feelings were almost written across her forehead.

I gave her a small, almost apologetic, smile. "No offense, Rosie, but I doubt you saved me for anyone else but yourself. And I don't mind that at all."

"What did you call me?" she asked, and her arms dropped to her sides.

"Rosie," I answered her even though I knew she'd heard me clearly the first time.

She looked down at the ground. "My younger brothers used to call me that," she said, and there was an obvious hint of sadness in her voice. When she looked back up at me, her expression was once again filled with the same raw agony I'd seen just before she told me what had happened to her, and I was once again prepared to do anything to make my angel feel happy again.

Absolutely anything.

After a drawn-out sigh, she finally made her decision. "Fine, I'll tell you. But promise you won't hold any of it against me."

I grabbed her smaller hands in my own and kissed her knuckles. "I promise. And I never break promises to angels."

A smile broke through at my comment, but it quickly fell again as she readied herself to tell me everything.

A/N:

As you can see, I decided to take this route with their relationship because it never sat right with me that they started a physical and intimate relationship right away. Especially considering Rosalie's past.

Now, you might wonder then, but Marie, Edward can read thoughts, so he should have known this.

Well, you know, not necessarily. Edward reads thoughts that are in the moment, and while Emmett might not possess the control over his thoughts yet, he does have a vivid imagination, and he longs to be with Rosalie, so you can imagine what mostly goes through his head. It was for this sake that I added the line 'I imagine it vividly; fantasize about it. So much so Edward can barely look me in the eye.'

Also, the forests around the Cullens' current residence are quite large, and that's why Carlisle feels safe allowing Emmett and Rosalie out of the house on their own. This gives another opportunity for the couple to hide their intimacy from the family.

Since this is canon, they will eventually have the kind of relationship we all know they have, but give Rosalie some time, okay? :)

Okay then, as always,

Stay Awesome!