Finally! My writer's block broke and it makes me exceptionally happy. I'm sorry to anyone who has waited for this chapter, because it's been a really long time. But enough excuses. I have the chapter, and best of all, it's done! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. I merely twist the universe to please myself.

Chapter Four

Hope.

It was so strange how such a little word could make such a big difference. I didn't know when I'd lost it, but I knew that having it gave me more appreciation. Because I knew I could lose it again, have it shattered and made even more impossible to repair.

Which was why I was so determined to make this work. I wouldn't give in to temptation. I would fight harder than I had ever fought. Giving in was not an option now that I actually had them

And it would seem that he sensed my determination, because he echoed my nod and took off, motioning for me to follow. To trust him, to go on faith. Two more things I hadn't had before. It would seem that hope had a domino effect on certain qualities.

We were traveling fast, but not as fast as he or I could go. West, towards the setting sun. How fitting, I thought. The sun sets on my old way of life. I could only hope that it wouldn't rise again.

I barely notice the green blur of the forest. My line of vision is focused solely on the blonde vampire in front of me. But I'm not really seeing him. He's just something for my eyes to settle on while my mind flashes around from thought to thought.

No more than a few minutes could have passed by the time we stop, though it might have been an eternity at the rate my mind was racing. There's an enormous, creamy yellow house in front of me that's obviously well-kept. A house? Permanent locations are a rather foreign idea to me. I've been on the move too long.

I wonder at the size. Just how many are in his coven for a house of that size to be necessary? I can smell at least three different scents in the vicinity, but I have a feeling that there's more. But how many more can there be? A coven of four is mind-boggling enough.

Another long-dormant emotion grips me. Nervousness. How will I be received? I've come from nowhere, a virtual stranger. The fact that we share the same secret is irrelevant. Vampires are not always friendly to other vampires. But then I glance back at the blonde and relax slightly. If he is any standard for the rest of his coven, I won't be treated badly.

"My name is Carlisle," he says. I jump slightly at the sound of his voice. I'd nearly forgotten he was there. "It was rather rude of me not to mention it earlier."

A small smile crosses my face. "Rudeness is the least of my problems."

Carlisle chuckles slightly. "I suppose you're right."

We stand in silence. He breaks it first.

"I'm afraid my family isn't home," Carlisle says. "However, if you would like to come in and clean up, I'm sure that Esme wouldn't mind your borrowing her clothes."

I suddenly feel very embarrassed. I'd never had any reason to give thought to my appearance. I'm abruptly self-conscious, aware of every tangle in my hair, every speck of dirt, my lack of shoes, and all the tears in my worn clothes.

"That would be nice."

He leads me into his home. And it's truly a home. It has all the little, unobtrusive personal touches that give it claim, declare that someone lives there.

Scents barrage my nose and my earlier guess that this was larger than a coven of four is affirmed. There are eight of them. My eyes widen.

Carlisle doesn't notice my sudden uneasiness, or if he does, he doesn't comment. Instead, he asks me to wait while he gets clothes. I study the room in his absence, taking it all in.

There's a large and expensive-looking piano in one corner. The keys are uncovered, so I suppose someone plays it often. The couches are all plush and only slightly worn. An enormous television hangs from the wall. I raise my eyebrows as I take in the hole in the coffee table. Its brokenness seems out of place in this home that was obviously put together with care.

"Emmett and Jasper had an argument this morning," Carlisle says from behind my shoulder. He holds folds of cloth in his arms. Like everything else in this house, they look as if they cost a great deal of money. "There is a bathroom at the top of the stairs to the immediate left. Take as long as you like."

I take the clothes from him, struck by how much compassion he's showing to a complete stranger.

"Thank you," I say. He nods, smiling, and I take my cue to leave.

I enter the bathroom and stare at the near-foreign contraptions. I haven't bathed in such a long time. I peel off my clothes and fold them up neatly to try to make up for their shabbiness. I step onto the tile of the shower and trace my fingers over the metal knobs before turning them as high as they'll go. It's not long before the room is filled with steam.

I stay in the shower for a long time, carefully scrubbing all traces of dirt from my skin and hair. I'm only satisfied with my cleanliness when the water no longer runs brown.

Reluctantly, I turn the water off and dry myself. I detangle my hair with a brush from the counter. It takes a while. When I'm done with that, I dress in the clothes. I'm surprised at how soft they are against my skin. They're slightly too small, but not uncomfortably so.

Finally, I work up enough courage to look into the mirror. I look like a wild thing that someone attempted to tame. My hair is too curly, my ruby eyes too vivid, my features too unnaturally sharp to be real. I'm too much for the muted colors I'm wearing and surrounded by. Just too much.

I freeze when I hear traces of laughter and catch the scents of those who live here. They're back. I can tell when they notice my presence because the laughter dies and Carlisle's soothing voice fills the void, explaining me.

I can't make myself move.

I'm so many things. I'm nervous, excited, tense, wary, and vaguely hopeful. I stamp out the hope. I can't afford to be disappointed. Just because Carlisle was accepting doesn't mean they all will be.

When I can't dither any longer, I grit my teeth and open the door to the bathroom. I pause at the top of the stairs. I feel as if I'm on the edge of a great precipice, about to teeter over the edge. The line I'm walking is very thin and any sudden movement will cause me to fall into oblivion.

I plunge into the darkness.