Yes, yes, yes, I'm so sorry I didn't update on time... again. But you see, I just moved back to San Diego from Los Angeles, and I was able to plug my PS2 in for the first time in years and... she was so lonely without me, you see... T.T Well, this chapter was worth waiting for anyway :3 Remember how we were never told about Rosalie's past?

Nine: Sympathy

"Let me see Carlisle."

Esme blinked up from where she sat, her fingers fiddling with a small weaving loom she apparently had as a human. Being around for so many years left a good amount of free time on her hands. Currently, she was putting together a new blanket. Probably for Bella. Not that she'd need it after she was dead. She and Rosalie were in the living room, the blond helping her adoptive mother with the blanket. Working at a slow, human pace was refreshing for the vampires, and let them relax and breathe. Or in this case, take their minds off of everything that was going on at present. Bella could only wish that she had such an option. Esme stood, setting her wool to the side, and approached Bella. "What for?" she asked gently.

"I want to see my father again," said Bella sternly. "I know I shouldn't. I'm as good as dead anyway. But I don't care. I want to see him before I die."

A depressed look came over Esme's face, her hands cupping together against her stomach. "Oh... well, Bella, he's not here right now. He's out hunting with the others – "

"For how much longer?"

"Bella, dear." Esme stepped forward, taking Bella's cheeks with her chilly hands. "Please don't. It isn't easy for him to keep you here. He wants you to see your father just as much as you do. But it will just make things harder for you in the end?"

Bella turned from her, glaring at the floor. It wasn't right of her to be mad at Esme. Sweet and caring Esme, who cared for her like a mother. But she couldn't help it. She had asked Carlisle once before and was told no, but after two weeks of doing nothing but resting, trapped in a home that cared for her but was no better than a prison, Bella had grown restless and irate. She wanted to return to her home. Wanted to see Charlie's mustache waver with surprise before it turned up in a smile. Wanted to see all of her friends one last time. Perhaps have a movie marathon, or go to a party, or shop at Port Angeles... All the things she had before, she wanted them again. She never realized just how precious those moments were. If she had any real foresight into what would become of her life, she would have taken advantage of every second she had living. Now that she was forbidden from ever experiencing them again, she felt that her life was so waisted. All those times she could have had fun, but decided not to. All those little fights and disagreements over silly nothings that in the end caused her to laugh and become even closer to her friends. She wanted them all again. So to hear that not only would she be said no to again, as well as being told not to even ask, was frustrating.

Esme seemed to sense her disappointment and brought her into a hug, which Bella did not return. Her fingers pet the thick of her hair, and her lips found their way to Bella's temple. "I'm so sorry, dear. It isn't fair. I – "

But Bella would not hear of it. She turned sharply and made her way back to her room. Her eyes had gotten so used to the dark now. She doubted if she could even recall what the sun felt like. Her hand subconsciously went to her arm, trying to imagine a soft ray of light falling on it. The warmth of it against her skin. This only made her more depressed and she shut the door behind her.

Since getting her strength back, Bella had a few changes made to her room. She had a mirror now, and a hairbrush and toothbrush at her bedside. In reality, it just gave her something to do. Bella's eyes stared at the morbid reflection in front of her, the firelight of her hearth flickering against her face. Her eyes were sallow and had heavy bags beneath them. Though she was eating regularly, it felt as though she had lost weight. Her gaze traveled to her stomach in the mirror. She wasn't showing yet, at least according to everyone else. Yet every time Bella stared at her stomach, she could swear that she could see it. Throbbing, growing, sucking her dry of her energy and life. If only she had the will to kill herself...

Sighing, she sat herself on her bed, listening to the fire crackle in front of her. For a long while, she was left alone. But soft footsteps alerted her to the door. Blinking, she looked up, her lips parted just so in surprise. Rosalie stood there, leaning awkwardly against part of the frame. Her gold eyes were sympathetic and pitying. Bella felt great insult at her empathy and turned away, bringing her knees to her chest. She was sick of being the victim. Sick of being looked at as such a helpless creature. It made her all the more resentful.

Bella buried her face in between her knees, as if that would make Rosalie go away. But instead, the bed beside her depressed, a second shadow accompanying her own. Bella remained still, but when it failed to drive Rosalie away, she lifted her head, her eyes on the vampire beside her. Rosalie had her hands on her legs, her eyes on the firelight. Her face, strangely like Carlisle's, was unreadable. Yet not as firm or cold. Just... blank.

"I'm sorry," she finally said. Bella turned away. The last thing she needed was another gushing apology for this.

"It's not your fault," said Bella with a hint of bitterness.

Rosalie paused. "No," she said. "It's not." Bella looked over her kneecap to see that Rosalie was turned to her. "But that doesn't mean I'm not sorry. I know your pain, Bella."

Bella felt a flair of indignity at this sentence. She knew her pain? Hardly. No one knew Bella's pain. No one knew the thoughts of suicide that slid into her mind almost every day. No one knew her horrible isolation in this house of the dead. No one knew what it was like to be kept from almost everyone and everything she'd ever loved as she waited for the end of her mortal life. Bella glared at the fire, as though it was its fault, and brought herself into a ball. "What do you know about it?" she finally growled. Rosalie once more took her time with this. Bella chanced a look over to the vampire, who was back to staring at the fire as well.

"Because it happened to me too."

That made something click in Bella's mind. Slowly, Bella's bitter resentment began to slip away. Like grains of sand through open fingers. Her scowl slid into a face of sudden understanding, and she sat up beside her. Bella took in that silent face for a moment more before turning back to the flames. "Were you raped as a human?"

Bella saw Rosalie nod from out of the corner of her eye. "It was different... of course. It wasn't a vampire. So I guess it wasn't nearly as bad. But... it involved someone I knew. Someone who I thought I could trust...

"...I was in college at the time. It was 1924. I'll remember that winter until the day I die for good. I was only twenty two, and going to a girl's university in Colorado. The night it happened, I was going out to meet a friend of mine. Tom Wallace. He went to the boy's university across the way..."

The dormitory for the female students was alight this evening. It was, after all, a Friday night. Young men were picking up their dates for an evening of dancing and romancing. All while the house mother glared at their tail lights as they drove off for the night, of course. Up near the top left corner of the building, a figure sat before a vanity mirror, a comb going through her long, blond hair. Odd for the time; most girls her age sported fashionable bobs and short cuts. But Rosalie Harold didn't care much for the fashion of the day. As she braided her hair for the night, her roommate, Susan Samson laughed her way into the room, her own black hair in one of said hairstyles beneath a cute hat that wrapped around the back of her head like turtle shell. As she stumbled inward, she began taking off her school coat, shoes and stockings, switching them for a much more party worthy outfit. She turned her eyes to Rosalie's blue ones, smiling from ear to ear.

"Hey sister!" Laughing, Susan wrapped her ungodly thin arms around Rosalie's neck. "Me and the other girls were going out boozin' tonight. Why don't you come with us, Rosie?"

"Sue, you're going to get caught one of these days." Rosalie put her brush aside and began to tie up the end of her braid. "Besides, we have midterms this week. Do you really want to be smashed for your test?"

"Ah! You're no fun, Rosie!" She swayed her from side to side before picking up the end of her braid. She clicked her tongue. "When are you going to get this horse tail cut? It's so old fashioned."

"I like it this way."

Pouting, Susan stood and put her hands on her hips. "What you need is a little more dazzle in your life." She turned and began to put on her own makeup. "Well if you feel like swinging by the jazz club later tonight, we'll be there."

After a little more light talk, Susan and Rosalie went their separate ways. Rosalie was picked up by a young man in quite a flashy new car. Tom Wallace, a slick young fellow with brown hair combed back with grease, and a suit and tie for the occasion. He grinned as Rosalie set herself in the passenger's seat. "Well well," he said brightly. "Is this you dolled up, sugar?"

"We're just going to the library," said Rosalie simply. She had on a simple coat over her ankle-length dress. Sure, the other girls thought she was an old maid, but Rosalie paid no attention to that. Studies were her number one priority, and she kept it that way through her years there. Tom frowned slightly but shrugged his shoulders.

"All right," he said. Turning his wheel, he pulled out, his headlights reflecting in the glittery snow. Tom had known Rosalie from that summer. She had a temporary job as a secretary, and he as a delivery boy. Since then, they found out that their colleges were practically right next door to each other, and they soon became friends. That night, Tom had asked for Rosalie's help on a report he was doing for a class project. As she was always ahead in her school work, Rosalie agreed to help. They arrived at the library, but Tom did not get out after parking. Instead, he leaned against his seat, a little smile on his face, as he looked Rosalie over. Rosalie stared back, a little confused as to why they weren't going in. But before she could ask, Tom spoke. "You know... have I ever told you you're damn pretty?"

Rosalie blinked in surprise, a little blush on her cheeks. "Tom... you know I don't like that language."

"Ah!" He waved it aside. "Come on, Rosie. Can't you just take a compliment?"

A little embarrassment fell on her and she stared at her knees. "Thank you." A silence followed. Rosalie glanced at him after a moment and turned to her door. "Well.. we'd better get going – "

But Tom had put a hand on her door, stopping her from leaving. A little shock hit her and she turned back around. Tom was smirking. "What's the rush? It doesn't close for another hour. Besides... I finished my project two days ago."

Rosalie blinked in surprise. "Then what are we doing here?"

"Well what do you think?"

Rosalie stared at him, unsure of what to think, to be quite honest. But the closer he got towards her, the more fearful she became. She turned away and tried opening the door, but Tom grabbed her by the shoulder. Spinning her around, he kissed her. Hard. Rosalie's eyes widened and she ripped away. "Tom!" He didn't stop to listen. Instead, he brought her in close, pinning her to the seat and kissing her again and again while she squirmed. "T-Tom!"

"Ah, come on Rosalie!" He took her wrists. "You've been leading me on this whole time! What did you think was going to happen? Now come on..." He kissed her. "Let's just have some fun, Rosie..." Rosalie struggled and squirmed, her eyes wide with horror. Finally, after getting one of her hands free, she slapped him hard across the face. He cried out in surprise, and only grabbed her tighter. But this caused Rosalie to fight even more. Finally, she was able to kick him off, yank open the door, and run.

Her feet froze from the snow, but she didn't care. She focused her entire containment of energy on getting away. Getting away to safety. Getting back home. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for headlights to flash behind her. She quickly ran into a side street and down and alley, only to come across a dead end. Panicked, she tried climbing up a wobbly fire escape. The snow on the steps made it far too slippery, and she fell and flopped onto a pile of old boxes and snow. By the time she had lifted herself up, Tom's car was already blinding her with light, the sound of his door slamming echoing through the alley. Frozen with fear, she could do nothing but scream before his hand came over her mouth...

"...I couldn't move for a little while after that. Some time, around one in the morning, I was sure I was going to freeze to death. But then, Carlisle found me out of pure luck. I couldn't go back. I couldn't face a single person after what Tom had done. And so Carlisle gave me an opportunity."

"To become a vampire?"

Rosalie hesitated, her eyes going to her hands. "That's part of it." Those long fingers began to curl into fists, her gaze becoming darker. "The other part was to kill that son of a bitch with my bare hands. I found him a month later, after I'd been turned. Waited till he was alone. Then, I ripped open his chest and let him bleed to death. Slowly." Bella said nothing more, letting Rosalie regroup herself after bringing back those memories. Of all the people to take revenge... Bella didn't think that Rosalie would be one of them. Rosalie flipped her eyes back up to Bella. "Listen Bella. I know it's hard right now. I know you're angry and alone. But it gets better."

Bella laid her cheek against her knees, looking at her with soft eyes. "How did it get better for you?"

A little smile came to her face and she turned back to the fire. "I met Emmett...

"We were in Chicago at the time. This was right after Annabell. Carlisle thought that it wasn't healthy for Edward to stay that place much longer. So, he moved us there. One night, I took a stroll to collect my thoughts, when I found him..."

It had been almost thirty years to the day since Rosalie said goodbye to human life. December, 1954. Winters in Chicago were harsher than in Forks, possibly because of the more urban setting. The snow couldn't collect charmingly along the tops of forest trees. Instead, it was reduced to fall on street lamps and sidewalks, creating brown mush on corners and in gutters. It was yet another Friday night. As humans around her bundled up to get warm and get inside, Rosalie walked with only a light jacket on, her feet barely feeling the snow through her boots. She let out a sigh, her warm mouth making a cloud of hot breath in front of her. What to do tonight? She began to think up different plans for the evening. That's when she heard music coming from off in the distance.

It started off as a drum beat. For a split second, she was reminded of the jazz she grew with in the twenties. But walking closer, she noticed a difference in the beat. It was more... lively, more robust with energy than jazz. Yet so similar. She walked closer to a club of some kind, and slipped herself in. Dancers between the ages of fifteen to twenty nine were everywhere. Skirts flying, hair flopping, arms pumping like crazy. Well that was another change; flappers didn't dance nearly this hard, let alone with partners. Some of them went so far to even throw their dates between their legs or up in the air. What was this kind of dancing? Whatever it was, it got blood pumping, making the air so tantalizingly sweet that Rosalie was close to salivating. But she restrained herself.

She migrated her way over to a drink table, her eyes skimming the crowd. No real reason except that she had nothing else planned for the night. She landed on someone in the middle of the floor. A boy – no, a man, more like. He was tall, with broad shoulders and huge arms. On his thick neck was a charming face and dazzling smile, and despite his mass, his feet were lighter than any dancer Rosalie had ever seen. He swung with the band, twirling and tossing his girl like a rag doll, yet with more grace than she ever knew anyone to have, let alone a hulk of a man like him.

"Enjoying yourself?" Rosalie jumped as a voice came from beside her. Looking up, she saw a thin man with pointed features grinning at her. He wore a business suit, his thinning hair slicked sleazily. "I see you're admiring my prize pony." He gestured to the dance floor at the man Rosalie was just eying. "Are you a fan?"

"Fan?" Rosalie repeated. "Of what?"

The man blinked in surprise. "What...? You mean you don't know Emmett Two Step Trenton? He's on television all the time!"

Rosalie frowned in thought, turning back to the dancer. "Dancing?"

That made the man laugh loudly, Rosalie flaring at his attitude. "Boxing, baby doll! He's only the number one contender for the middle weight championship! Come on, you've know!"

"No, I don't," Rosalie snapped. "Boxing is a brutal sport for backwards apes."

The man's eyebrows shot up, but it didn't take away his smile. "Well now... That's a bit of a harsh tone you got there, Miss Priss. Have you met any of these so called backwards apes?"

"No, and I don't plan to."

"Then how do you know?"

"You don't have to taste poison to know that it kills."

"Hey, Marty, how are we doing on time?"

A new voice had entered into the conversation. Rosalie didn't notice that a new song had started, and that the dancing boxer had left the floor to approach the two of them. But the minute she and the mystery man were face to face, Rosalie felt herself stunned by his mere presence. He was taller in person, and his blood had yet to cool from his dancing, pumping like hot honey just below that thick skin of his. She was entranced, her eyes on his jugular, watching it jump from each throb of his heart. But again, she recalled her self discipline and turned her eyes back up to the man, who seemed just as taken with her, but for different reasons.

From behind her, the man spoke. "We're doing just fine, Em. You've got a few good hours before I force you to bed." Noticing the fact that Emmett and Rosalie were staring at each other, the man – Marty – edged Rosalie forward, a hand on her shoulder. "I've just been chatting up this lovely lady here. Well, miss? Say hello to the backwards ape."

Rosalie snapped a glare at him, shyness disguising itself as anger flaring up within her. Emmett spoke next. "Oh? Backwards ape, eh?"

Well, she was already outted. Might as well. Turning to Emmett, Rosalie put her hands on her rounded hips. "Boxing is just one step below primitive gladiator fights. I don't find entertainment in a couple of meat sacks beating each other to death."

Far from being put off, Emmett laughed. That laugh sent shivers up her spine. If Rosalie had to give it an adjective, she supposed she would have to call it... refreshing. Like waking up from a long dream to a bubbling brooke. He seemed to be a man of good spirits and natural decency. A gentleman disguising as a jester. His muscle bound arms folded, he looked down at Rosalie with amusement. "I take it you've never been to a fight before."

"I've never had the urge," she admitted honestly.

"Mm." Emmett's eyes grew interested, his smile handsomely coy. "Tell you what. I've got a big fight tomorrow. Give me your name, and I'll make sure you get a free seat. On me."

Rosalie scrunched up her face. "Why would I want to?"

Emmett's smirk became wider, his warm brown eyes twinkling. Taking Rosalie's hand, he brought it up to his lips and kissed her knuckles, his eyes on her the entire time. "Because it'll give you another excuse to see me again."

What nerve! came Rosalie's first thought. What – what absolute nerve! I won't be going anywhere near... anywhere near your... stupid... Those thoughts began to trail off the longer her hand was held. She found herself transfixed on his face. The smell of his blood was strong enough to make her almost forget her convictions and self control. She swallowed what had gathered in her mouth and slipped her hand away. "Don't get your hopes up," she said coldly.

Again, Emmett laughed. He slid his hand away and gave her a two fingered salute. "I'll wait anyway." After blowing her a kiss, he turned and found a new date to start dancing with. Rosalie watched him from the shadows the entire night...

"You went, didn't you?" came Bella's question.

A little smile came to Rosalie's lips. "Of course I did. At the time, I convinced myself that it was just his blood. He was my type, you see. B Positive. It took me a while to realize that was only part of it. I went to the fight, loved it but didn't admit to it, and met him afterwards. It was there that he asked me out on a date.

"...What he saw in me, I'll never know. I was difficult to please and stiff as a board. I was having a hard enough time keeping Emmett a secret from Carlisle, so I did all I could to keep the relationship we had cold. I used my past as an excuse to stay away from him, as well as anything else I could think of. But he was persistent. He took me places, taught me to swing... Then came one summer date of 1955..."

The sky was clear enough to see the stars that night. The carnival downtown was in the middle of its boom season, filled in the daytime with families, and reserved at night for young couples in love. Booths of all kinds were set up along the streets, a couple of flimsy metal rides on either end of the strip. Music played from radios and open cars, a small open band playing a few tunes in a gazebo near by. In the center of it all, Emmett was getting himself ready to throw a baseball at a pyramid of metal milk bottles, Rosalie watching with mild interest. Rearing back, he threw the ball and hit the pyramid with ease, knocking down his targets. As a reward, he was given a stuffed animal, which he turned to hand to Rosalie. She took the plush dog in her hands before tucking it beneath her arm.

"You getting hungry at all?"

"I ate before I came."

Chuckling, Emmett put one hand in his pocket, the other on the small of Rosalie's back. Rosalie had tried to be as stiff as possible with their physical contact, but Emmett's charm eventually won her over. Now, he'd gone so far as even stealing a kiss or two. Though now, in these later months, Rosalie had to admit that it was growing easier to let him touch her. Yes, he was her dirty little secret as far as Carlisle was concerned. But even though she knew what involving yet another human would mean, Rosalie couldn't help but enjoying herself with him. Even though she didn't always show it. In fact, the more and more Rosalie spent time with Emmett, the more and more she was starting to realize she liked him.

They were walking to the car when Emmett characteristically broke into a random chuckle. "You know... as long as we've seen each other, I've never taken you out to dinner."

Rosalie's heart gave a little jump. "You don't have to buy my meals," she said stiffly. "I'm fine on my own. My family feeds me before I go out."

"Mm." That seemed to end the conversation, as Emmett jumped onto a different topic. Rosalie felt a small wave of relief when she realized that he wouldn't press the matter. After all, how do you casually bring up the fact that you don't eat food?

They found their way to Emmett's car (a red hot Corvette) and hopped inside. Rosalie's stuffed prize took refuge in the backseat. Emmett pulled out of the parking lot, and headed down the street, back towards Emmett's apartment. Her mind began to fill with thoughts. She had heard rumors, yes. After all, athletes were notorious with women. She was warned ahead of time by other female admirers that he'd probably have someone else behind Rosalie's back. But if he did, he showed no signs of interest in other women, and most surprisingly, didn't try to make a move. Once or twice, he would offer her a place to stay. She always refused. Every time, he took her answer without fuss, and wished her a good night. That night showed signs of being the same.

"You're quiet." Rosalie jumped at his voice and whipped her eyes to him, stiffening out of habit. "Something on your mind?"

At that moment, a random thought came to Rosalie. Probably one that had been brewing all this time, even if she didn't know it. "I just... don't know what you see in me." Suddenly, her eyes found themselves staring out the window as they rolled up to a red light. "There are so many other girls you could be with right now."

Emmett laughed a bit. "That's true."

"So why aren't you?" Rosalie turned expectantly, her hands folded in her lap. There are so many humans to choose from... why me? "Why do you keep seeing me?"

"Well, is there something wrong with you?" The red light changed to green, and Emmett continued on his way.

Rosalie couldn't quite answer that, and instead stared out in front of her. "Well... for starters, I haven't... said yes to any of your offers."

Emmett shrugged. "Ah, don't worry about that. You don't strike me as that type anyway." They glanced at each other and the boxer sighed. "You really don't get why I like you?" Rosalie shook her head. "Ok... One of the things I like is that you don't take any shi- uh, don't take guff from anybody. You're straight forward, you know what you want... Not to mention you're smoking hot. Chicks today are so... lame. No brain in their head, you know? You, baby, you're a barn burner, and I dig that. Makeup, short skirts, that's not your bag. Sure, some might call you a square but... Me, personally?" He slipped Rosalie a grin. "I got a thing for the old fashioned types."

Rosalie blinked at him. So... the reason most people avoided her was the reason he liked her? "Then why did you invite me over those times?"

"Ah hell, baby. I might dig the old fashioned types, but I'm still a dude." He turned around corner and continued on. "But, I figured you'd say no. You seem like the no-nookie-till-rings kinda girl." His smile became a little dimmer and he glanced to the side. Almost nervously. "There's uh... there's actually a little... Well, there's something I want to tell you." They came to another red light. Emmett wrapped his hands around the steering wheel, wringing the leather back and forth. "Uh... How many months have we been going now?"

Rosalie frowned slightly. "Since December... about six. Seven."

"Right..." Emmett cleared his throat. "Y'know how sometimes they say that... that you can see somebody and you know that... um... you know that they're... you know... you know?" He looked at her. "You follow?"

Rosalie stared at him blankly. "No."

Emmett nibbled at his lip, looking at his docile speedometer. "Well... uh, well... well... Sometimes... s'how I hear it, anyway. Sometimes you can see somebody and... it's sorta... in your head that they're..." His voice got a bit quieter and he shifted in his seat. "...right for you... or something."

"Do you mean love at first sight?"

"Kinda, I guess..."

A harsh silence followed this sentence. Rosalie felt a build up to what she knew he would say next. Her hands gripped the seat below her thighs as she waited. "Well..." He turned to her and smiled. "I think I'm in love with you, Rosie."

Rosalie didn't know what to say. Her mouth gaped like a fish, and her eyes widened helplessly. After a moment, she turned away, torn in half. On the one hand, Carlisle would be furious. If he knew about this little affair of theirs, he would move them away faster than Rosalie could blink. Not to mention it would just send Edward into another one of his depressions. A human's love and all that. But what really frightened her most about this was... she could barely contain how happy those words made her feel.

"Oh no..." came her first verbal response. She didn't have to look at Emmett to see the devastation on his face.

"Oh no?" he repeated. "What do you mean, 'oh no'?" The light had turned, on the count that they were moving again. Rosalie was too stunned to notice the world moving outside their car. "What... you mean... you don't feel the same? Don't you enjoy being with me?" Rosalie looked up, vulnerable for the first time in a long time. She wanted so badly to tell him that she did. That his assumption was wrong. That she liked being with him. No, that she loved being with him! That being with him was the first time in her life that she had actually had fun! That she didn't want that to end. That she wanted to be with him for as long as she possibly could. Even if she had to go to every smelly, sweaty fight that he was in, she would go with pleasure, if only to see him at the end of it! Her mouth trembled. "...I..."

A honk. A sudden jerk. A skid. Tire tracks. Screeching breaks. Had Rosalie been in any other state of mind, she would have gotten him out of there, safe from harm's way. She would have yanked open her door and tore from the car, Emmett safely in her arms. But she was too distracted. Too shocked. To human. All she could think to do was to throw herself on top of Emmett just as the other car collided with his side of the Corvette. The wails of the crumbling metal were the only things that rang in her ears. Emmett was too shocked to even cry out in pain. The headlights washed over them both, washing them out in complete white for only a split second. The horrified screams around them didn't even resinate until a moment or two more. But Rosalie paid them no mind. For her senses had gone into overdrive. As she pulled away from the man beneath her, she saw blood spilling over his shaking face. Her hunger began to rise, her fangs extending out of pure want. Just a taste... just one little taste...

But something inside her stopped those primal desires. Instead, she leaned forward, and merely clutched him, waiting in agony for the paramedics to arrive.

Rosalie stayed with him the entire way, holding his hand whenever she could. The first and last time she felt a raw sense of emotion was that cold winter's night thirty years prior. Not since then had she ever felt such a slate of fear. Fear that perhaps Emmett may not breathe another moment on this Earth. Finally, she was allowed to see him. She refused to leave his room, and instead shut the curtains tight enough so that she wouldn't have to. And there, she sat. And waited. Finally, just as the sun was rising, his eyes began to open. She was the first thing he saw.

"Rosie...?"

Rosalie leaned forward, touching his cheek. A head bandage sat around his crown, his brown hair disheveled and a brace on his neck. He blinked, hazy. "Did I die?"

She gave him a small smile. "No..." It faded soon after as she turned to the rest of him. Slowly, those eyes fell to his bottom half. That's when his face fell to horror, tears welling in his eyes. Both legs were in casts. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, before looking up to Rosalie, as if making sure that this was real. She could feel the pain coming from him, and looked down sympathetically. "Emmett, I'm so sorry..." Tears of her own began to bloom, and she turned back to the man she loved. Yes, loved. She would admit it, if only to herself. Leaning in, her lip trembling, she pet his hair in a caring way. "I heard... I heard the doctors talking. You might be able to... to walk again if you follow your physical therapy..."

Emmett's face contorted with unimaginable pain, his tears falling on either side of his face. He took in a breath to try and calm himself, but no luck. "But I have... the championship in... in just a week..."

His words cut her like a knife. But she couldn't not tell him. It was not her way. "Emmett." He managed to crack his eyes up at her. "You might be able to walk eventually but... but you'll never box again. Or dance. Or... or..." She couldn't go on. Her words choked within her as she saw Emmett start to cry. Not simply whimper and let the tears fall. He was sobbing. He tried baring his teeth, tried stopping himself, but it was no use. The truth was more than he could bare. Rosalie leaned in, clutching his shoulders and crying to his chest. This was her fault. She should have saved him... done something! She had let him fall to this... and the way she saw it, she owed it to him now.

They cried together for a good hour, before the energy left them both. Rosalie let herself lament for a good half hour more before lifting herself above him. She pushed away his drying tears. "Emmett," she began, her voice trying hard to remain strong. "There's... something I need to tell you." He hiccuped, but remained silent. "But first know... that I can do something for you. Emmett, I can give you your legs back. You can – you can fight again, you can dance... I can fix this, Emmett. But you have to promise me." She cupped his cheek, her hand squeezing his. "You have to promise me that you meant it when you said you loved me. No matter what secrets I hide."

Emmett stared up at her, almost as though he knew. He knew what she was saying, what she was hiding. His trembling hand squeezed hers back, and with that, he closed his eyes, agreeing to anything she had in mind. Rosalie leaned in, kissing him sweetly, before reaching up to remove his neck brace...

Bella and Rosalie sat in silence at the end of her story. The fire had just about gone cold, but neither cared to restart it. Rosalie turned to Bella with a small smile, visible through the dim light of the ambers. "In the end, it wasn't a perfect resolution. But we helped each other through our own fears. We still do to this day." Reaching forward, she took Bella's hand. "It seems hopeless now... but Edward will be strong for you. I know it."

The smallest of smiles came to Bella's face. She could tell it took a lot of courage for Rosalie to share herself like that. In a way, it helped her to let go of a little of her own stress. Not all of it, by a long shot, but some of it. That moment, she felt a strange, sisterly connection to her. So, reaching forward, she pulled Rosalie into a hug, silently thanking her. She broke it when her eyes landed on the doorway. Carlisle stood there, face blank as ever. The two parted, and Rosalie stood in his presence. Tilting his eyes down, Carlisle spoke shortly.

"I think it's time you see your father."

OHMIGODTHATWASLONGFORME. -faints- Yeah, yeah, I know. This was long, while meanwhile I'm writing 30 page chapters for my real books. Eh. Anyway. Yes, so, this was Rosalie's past. Whatdjya think? It's one of the things that I've been dying to write this book. Review so I know who's still there~!

~T.