After a few days of driving (with frequent stops at the gas station) I assumed it was safe, and decided to begin the roundabout route to home. Somehow rose has managed to maintain a black mood throughout the whole trip, and I tried once more to cheer her up.

"The fact that we haven't received a call is probably a good thing," I mused, directed at her. I slipped my eyes over to her to see how she took that statement.

"Or it could mean that they're all dead," she shot back bitterly. I couldn't help the wince at the thought of my husband being killed by hunters. Quickly, I shook that thought out of my head, and again set upon trying to cheer her up.

"I bet Emmett wouldn't want to see you like this," I challenged, with the desired effect. Rosalie straightened up, then turned her head to glare at me.

"Rose," I said in a softer tone, "Really, if you're not going to be happy for me, at least be happy for Emmett." Rosalie sighed, glancing down at her lap. I had known it would be a risk to threaten her with her sometimes-husband; we were all extremely sensitive about our significant others. However, a Rosalie looking down at her lap sadly was, to me, better than a Rosalie glaring angrily out the window.

"Rosalie, I know she's throwing her life away, but please, it's her decision, not yours." I tried to persuade her. Rose only sighed, and returned to glaring out the window. I took that to mean, correctly, that the conversation was over.


Eventually, we reached home again. Rosalie got out, slammed the door, and stalked into the house through the garage. I climbed carefully out, not bothering to lock the car door, but closing the garage door after me instead. I slipped inside just in time to see Rosalie stomp up the stairs, although I could have heard it from outside.

"You know something interesting that I noticed, Rose?" I called out. Rosalie's face appeared at the top of the stairs. "None of the others are back yet. They probably should be." I knew it was cruel to her, but her face froze in a mask of horror. At least it was better than her thinking about Bella.

"Should we call?" she asked worriedly.

"I'm not sure," I replied as I meandered into the kitchen. Suddenly, I froze.

"There's a note!" Rosalie may have said the words before I did, but I was moving by the time that she finished the first word. Esme, it read on the outside:

My dear wife:
Bella's in trouble. Edward reached her first, and then called me. Emmett and Jasper are fine, everything's fine. I'll call later.
P.S. Don't come! There may be blood.
Your husband, Carlisle

Rosalie and I read the note at the same pace, then turned to face each other. Rosalie's face was in a mask of relief, probably the same expression that was on my own face. Then Rosalie turned away, walking slowly to the sofa chairs in the living room. She settled down for a minute, then rose again and headed over to Edward's piano. Soft music began flowing through the room as I watched her bend her head over the keys, concentrating. Canon in D, I thought.

Suddenly, the phone's sharp trill shot through the room, and Rosalie was at my side, the music abruptly cut off.

"Pick it up!" she urged when my speed wasn't fast enough for her. I shot a glance at her that clearly said, Let me go at my own pace!, and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Esme," murmured Carlisle's voice in return. I smiled slightly to myself and closed my eyes.

"What happened?" I asked, eyes still closed and smile still on my face.

"Bella headed to the dance studio to sacrifice herself, but Alice saw, and called me and Edward. Edward, naturally, flew into a rage and sprinted the whole way there, so naturally, he was the first. Emmett and Jasper were next, and then me. Edward handed James over to Em and Jazz after he pulled the hunter off of Bella. We got there just in time. She'd lost blood and was unconscious, but it seems like Edward's voice pulled her out of it."

"Is that possible?"

"I guess. Probably, your voice would pull me out of unconsciousness." I could hear the smile in his voice now.

"And yours would do the same for me." I replied. "So, where's Bella now?"

"She's still right here, although the morphine we gave her put her back into unconsciousness. Edward's carrying her."

"Okay. Where are you guys taking her? The hospital?"

"Of course," Carlisle replied.

"What's your cover story for her?"

"Edward came up with it. You're gonna love this one - the story is that Edward came to talk some sense into her, to convince her to come back to Forks, and Bella agreed to meet him at the hotel him, Alice and I were staying at. But then she tripped on the stairs on the way to his room, fell down two stories and through a window."

"That suits her nature," I agreed, laughing. "When are you coming home?"

"Now," he replied, and cut the connection.

I closed the little cell phone, and turned to Rosalie to recount the story. I left out the little loving jests, like the one about voices pulling people out of blackouts, but generally told her the conversation that my husband and I had had.

"When is Emmett coming back?" she asked, eyes alight. I smiled to myself, and made a show of looking at my watch.

"I'd say about...NOW!" Just in time, the doorbell rang. Rosalie and I grinned at each other, then sprinted to the door. We reached it at the same time, yanking it open to see our husbands. Jasper and Alice were also standing there, and rolling his eyes at our impatience, pulled Alice past me into the house, where they wouldn't have to witness our welcome scene. On cue, Rosalie and I jumped into our lovers' arms at the same time. Carlisle hugged me back, happily.

"Welcome home," I murmured into his ear.