AN: Scene involving self-mutilation (cutting). May trigger.

Chapter 23

Hope's POV

Vacation was a good excuse not to do anything. It felt sort of like everyone around me was happy, but I couldn't fake the sort of excitement I saw on my sibling's faces. It felt wrong to be happy when Mom and Dad weren't. And forget Aunt Aria; she was still locked up at some clinic Carlisle'd arranged. We'd spoken earlier in the week. She sounded like someone who'd been brainwashed with a bunch of middle eastern ideology. Whatever, I dismissed thoughts of my aunt instead choosing to glance down at the sleeping child beside me. Emmalyn slept with me most nights now since her sleep was constantly interrupted by one nightmare of another. A few weeks ago, she'd even had a middle of the night toileting incident, the first in years. With a sigh, I smoothed her baby skin with the back of my hand and moved carefully so as not to wake her as I climbed out of bed and padded into our private bathroom.

My hand slapped at the light switch angrily, causing it to come on along with the fan that helped circulate the air. I stood staring a moment at the stranger in the mirror. I hadn't left the suite since our arrival so there was little need to primp up. Besides, I could never compare to Bree and Renesmee. They were both natural beauties so it was foolish for me to even attempt to keep up. My face was pale, hair limp, and skin hanging from weight loss. Yoga pants and Old Navy vintage v-neck tees were my go-to these days. I squeezed the bridge of nose against the headache that'd plagued me for days. There was no way I was going to sleep tonight unless I had a little help. I leaned over to stop the tub and fill it with water before opening my overnight bag and downing four benadryl dry.

The water felt good against my achy muscles tight from the constant tension lately. I leaned way back in the oversized tub, using my feet to play with the stream of water, allowing it to tickle my toes. As the water raised to reach my neck, I sunk down deeper until the water as over my head. For a moment, I reveled in the sensation, the idea that nothing could get to me there, but then, a flashback struck and I was back in the vehicle with my parents. "No!" I screamed, chocking on the water as it filled my lungs and I erupted up out of the bubbles choking and sputtering to get the water out of my lungs.

There was a knock on the door and I heard Esme's voice, "Hope? Is everything all right, sweetheart?"

The soap stung my eyes and I ripped a towel off the rack to wipe at my face as I spit out the offending liquid. "Yes...Sorry," I responded. "Swallowed some water..." I admitted, hoping she wouldn't hear the fear gripping my voice.

Esme's POV

Carlisle stood beside me just outside the bathroom listening to Hope's respirations and heart rate. We'd been in the living room playing a board game with Bree when the sound from the bathroom drew our attention.

My eyes glanced to the clock. It was nearly 3 am. Hope's late nights were nothing new; in fact, that and her depression were the reasons she slept til afternoon most days. My husband placed a hand on my thigh preventing me from starting down the hall to check on the child. "She may just be up to use the restroom. Let's give her some privacy."

I nodded and returned to the scrabble game before us, my attention never-waivering. Next came the sound of the pill bottle.

"Perhaps a headache?" I whispered, softly so only the three of us could hear.

"Or something else..." Bree looked less than impressed at the interruption. I knew my adopted granddaughter was struggling with sharing our attention with three new kids. It was something we planned to address with her parents when they arrived. For now, it was just Carlisle and I with all the kids.

"Bree, be nice," Carlisle warned as our ears perked up once more. The girl was taking a bath which was probably a good coping method for her; it'd help her relax so she could get some sleep. But suddenly, her respirations disappeared and her heart rate raised. Carlisle and I were halfway to her bedroom door when he reached out to take my hand. The sound of her coughing followed; there was water in her lungs. Carlisle reached out to knock on the door as I spoke.

The girl's response came suddenly. I knew she wasn't all right, but short of breaking down the door and invading on her privacy, there was no way in.

"It's awfully late, darling," Carlisle prodded carefully. "Do you have a headache?"

"Just a little," she said.

"Do you need some tylenol?" he asked.

"I already took some," she said. coughed again.

"All right," he let it drop. "Just call if you need us."

The girl's voice was tight when she responded in the affirmative. Together, we returned to the coffee table to see an angry looking Bree watching tv, the scrabble tiles scattered across the room where she'd obviously thrown them along with the board that was shattered into pieces.

"Bree," my voice took on a dangerous tone.

"Yeah?" I had to give her points for looking innocent as she peered across the room at me like nothing had ever happened.

"Was that entirely necessary?" I asked.

"What?" she smiled, saucily.

"You know what," I continued, never raising my tone. Carlisle watched with approval as I took the lead.

"I tripped," she lied.

"You tripped?" that response required a deep breath from me before continuing, "Darling, you know exactly how I feel about lying. We both know what happened here. You had a tantrum because our game was interrupted."

"This vacation was supposed to be about all of us!" she yelled, angrily, "And it hasn't been...all you guys care about is those three and you don't seem to care what having them here does to the rest of us! Hell, it's not like they're the only orphans around here. My father freaking killed my mother and you don't see me whimpering! ****!"

Carlisle's POV

"Bree Cullen!" I reached out as she attempted to storm out of the room, grabbing her by the wrist before delivering a swift swat to her bottom.

"Ouch!" she squealed, reaching back to protect herself with both hands.

"Language," he warned.

"You're not my dad!" she yelled at me.

"No, I'm not," I took both her hands in my own, "But for now, you are my responsibility and I'm not going to have you flaunting around her like a spoiled brat. If you're angry with us, that's ok, but you talk to us. And you do NOT take your frustrations with Esme and I out on those kids."

"Have a seat," Esme pointed to the sofa and the girl reluctantly sat mostly because she had some idea what plans I had for her bottom if she didn't. My wife was nothing if not patient and caring when she seated herself next to our granddaughter. "Sweetheart, I know it can be difficult being so close to humans especially in a small space. I also know you've been doing it for some time now at school. I think more than that right now, you're struggling because our attention is being spread a bit thin. Am I right?"

Bree's eyes flashed as she crossed her arms, allowing her foot to swing like a pendulum keeping time. "No..."

"What did I say about lying?" Esme snapped. Bree sat up a bit straighter at that.

"Fine...' she stated, angrily, "I'm sick of you two thinking you need to save the world. You have your own family and these guys have their own as well. It's not your place to fix it for them and ignore your family."

"I'm hearing that you feel neglected, and sweetheart, trust me, that is not our intension. But babygirl, when we took them in, they became family just as much as you did, young lady. How do you think any of us became family?"

"But they're human..." she grumbled, playing with the edge of her skirt.

"They are and perhaps that's why they need us even more. I think you ought to go spend the rest of the night in your room. I'll be looking for an essay in the morning about what it is to be family. And I don't want to hear any more of this. It's ok for you to feel what you're feeling, but I need you to express it differently. We can talk as often as you need. It's ok to process the changes...there certainly have been a lot. But you come to us. OK?"

Bree refused to look at me so I leaned forward tipping her chin upward, "I love you, sweetheart. You're Papa's girl. Nothing changes that. Now come over here and give me a hug."

Hope's POV

My tub was nearly finished, my skin left looking like a prune and legs shaved. I finger the blades of the razor a moment as I tried to force the memories from my mind once more. It was no use. I could see my father's face again and again. The pain was unbearable. The benadryl was kicking in and I was beginning to feel the effects on my system. The blade slide slowly across my upper thigh as I toyed with the idea I'd heard my classmates speak of. Perhaps a physical manifestation of my pain would bring a release. I took a deep breath before bringing the blade across my thigh. The sting that followed brought a gasp to my lips and I bit down on my lips until it bled to keep from crying out. Tears streaked down my face, dripping into the tub. The water began to mix with blood leaving a pinkish hue as I drew line after line across the previously untouched skin. Ten lines and I felt some relief. I took care to clean out the tub and bandage my leg before getting dressed and slipping back into bed beside my sister. Within moments I slept and it was the most peace I'd had in months.