Disclaimer: Don't own it, just get a kick out of writing about it. Thanks Stephenie!

A heartfelt thank you goes out to my beta, Emilie Fauve, the resounding expert on all things Carlisle! As always, her suggestions (and hilarious comments) make this way too much fun!


I didn't get my chance to talk to Rosalie in private until after we arrived at our new home in Tennessee. It was late spring, nearly summer in this temperate, southern half of the nation, and everything was so vibrantly green and new. The foliage in this part of the country was drastically different from what I had become accustomed to in the north – towering, deciduous trees peppered the hazy mountains, creating a glorious canopy for the ferns and vines that flourished beneath. The newly created Great Smoky Mountains National Park conveniently lay at our doorstep, rich with both the breathtaking natural flora as well as a surplus of adequate nourishment for our unique little family. Carlisle could not have chosen a better place to relocate to; there were absolutely no reminders of Rochester or the life we had left behind.

Once we were settled in our modest countryside home, I took immediate advantage of our first separation from Carlisle and Esme.

"Rosalie, we need to talk."

She sat across from me in the front room, flipping through a local newspaper. Upon hearing my question, she raised her chiseled face, meeting my gaze with her ever-changing eyes. Though still a light shade of crimson, flecks of amber were now more predominant in her irises. Rosalie continued to demonstrate amazing control for a newborn and had not been tempted to seek out another human since Royce and his friends - none of whose blood had graced her slender throat. Her eyes would undoubtedly be a beautiful shade of ocher by Christmas if she continued to control her thirst.

About what?

Since our hasty retreat from Rochester, Rosalie had been habitually refraining from answering me out loud. She preferred to communicate silently, though she never revealed her true reason for that preference. I was, inherently, too caught up in my own recent musings to care one way or the other.

"About what happened in Rochester. What we told, or rather didn't tell Carlisle and Esme." I actually had at least a dozen other things I wanted to talk to her about, but I suspected it would be better if I chose my battles wisely and started with the more important topics.

Rosalie sighed dramatically, lowering the paper to her lap and leaning forward slightly.

Which do you want to discuss first?

I swallowed down my annoyance, her contumely rifling my nerves. "I didn't like lying to Carlisle."

I realize that. But it's too late now. What's done is done – can't you just let it go?

"If you slip up, and he were to find out the truth…" I began.

Edward, why would I tell him after the fact that you helped me?

Did I enlighten her with the truth; that I didn't completely trust her? "I just need to know where we stand on all of this." I opted for the safer response instead.

Rosalie stared intently at me for a moment, then stood.

You don't trust me, do you?

It was at moments like this that I swore she had the same talent as I…she was just brilliant at hiding it

"No, that's not it."

Liar. Trust works both ways, Edward.

She had taken a few steps forward, seemingly to challenge me both physically as well as mentally. It was quite unnerving, and I suddenly had the overwhelming urge to force her out of her comfort zone.

"Can we continue this discussion verbally, please?" My tone irrevocably belied my frustration, but I didn't care.

"Of course. What I thought was that trust works both ways. You refuse to admit that you don't trust me, which is basically the same thing as lying to me. So, you're unwilling to trust my words and actions, and in doing so, you give me no reason to place my trust in you." She had taken another step closer - now looking down at me. "So it would appear that you're the untrustworthy one, not me."

I stood quickly, venom beginning to stream down the back of my throat as my anger exploded. "Why do you have to be like this?"

Rosalie squared her shoulders, simultaneously wiping her mind clean of any betraying thoughts. I was now positive that she had figured out how to mask her mind when she didn't want me to see what she was thinking. Surprisingly, her voice remained even as she answered my question.

"Like what, exactly? I told you, I will not betray your secret – if you won't believe that, then there's nothing I can do to convince you." She focused intently on my face. "If it's not too much to ask, I'd rather we put this miserable subject behind us, once and for all."

I was opening my mouth, preparing to spout off some malicious retort when the floodgates of her mind flew open, literally pushing me backwards.

I thought you understood. You were the one so hell-bent on getting me out of Rochester for my own sanity, like you knew what was best for helping me move on. That's why I defended you. And that's why I won't betray your trust or stoop so low as to let Carlisle know of your involvement. But maybe I was wrong to jump to the conclusion that you actually understood and cared – that you actually empathized with what I've been through.

Her defensive posture had slipped a few notches – shoulders now hunching forward in the slightest hint of defeat, just like before, in the shed after she had killed Royce. I was witnessing her self-doubt all over again. She was fighting back the emotions that churned within her – regret, overwhelming grief, anger. It rendered me speechless.

Can we please just leave Royce and Rochester behind us forever? Can you give me just that one, small sliver of peace in this wretched new life?

She was right – I had helped her rid herself of at least a portion of her painful burden, yet here I was, pouring salt on the wounds I had wanted to heal. How dare I do this to her.

"I'm sorry." I hung my head in shame. "It's just that...I'm not used to this." How did I describe this? The culmination of trusting a new family member, of learning to live with her; yet having her also be someone I was charged with entertaining, or baby-sitting, or falling in love with? Carlisle and Esme's hopes kept flashing through my mind, taunting me every second of the day. They continued to observe us closely, looking for the slightest hint that we were becoming more than cold, distant siblings to one another. The pressure was excruciating.

I felt Rosalie watching me as I studied the floor, lost in my own turbulent thoughts, waiting silently for either her acceptance of my pitiful apology, or more wrath.

I want to go for a walk.

I looked up and nodded, dismissing her. She looked at me quizzically, the tiniest hint of a smile crossing her delicate features.

Won't you join me?

I faltered for a second, debating my options. Part of me craved solitude, even just for an hour. Some time to clear my head, acclimate to my new surroundings at my own pace. But then I felt that strange sensation all over again, the very one that I had been desperately ignoring since Rosalie had awoken into immortality. It festered deep within me, a befuddling sort of anxiousness, accompanied by the overwhelming urge to please and be near her. I shook my head quickly, trying to rid my conscious of this unfamiliar emotion, attributing it to the sense of guilt that had plagued me since she opened her mind during our minor quarrel.

"Yes," I replied to her mental question before realizing I was making such a decision. What was wrong with me?

Her mood had shifted faster than the spring wind that raced through the nearby valleys. Rosalie was no longer defensive and angry. Instead, I felt an overwhelming sense of calm and serenity flow from her mind as she reached for my hand. I twitched unconsciously at her warm touch when her fingertips brushed mine.

I'm not going to bite you, Edward.

My eyes narrowed, somewhat bothered that she had caught my involuntary reaction and called me out on it. It was hard enough, dealing alone with these peculiar emotions that were brought on merely by her presence – the last thing I wanted was an audience.

"After you," I finally choked out.

Rosalie's smile widened, and although she tried to keep her next thought from me, I was still able to catch the majority of it.

He's nervous around me…

I sucked in a sharp breath, instantly searching for something in her thoughts to quantify this observation, but she was faster than I was. The steel gates slammed shut, effectively locking me out of her mind.

I blurted out my frustration before I realized what I was saying. "You know, you're getting quite good at blocking me." The moment the words left my lips, I cringed, completely regretting them.

Rosalie wasn't fazed in the least. "I know," she answered sardonically before pulling me gently towards the front door.

My mind was twitching in shock. She knew. As she led me down the front steps and across the plush yard towards the sloping hill to the east, I struggled with this latest bit of information. Although Carlisle and Esme were able to keep me out of their minds, I had never inquired exactly how they were able to do so. Now I had to know, if for no other reason than to better understand this impossibly talented being that was guiding me into the nearby forest.

"Care to explain how you're so easily able to shut me out?"

She chuckled and squeezed my hand. "The all-knowing Edward has to stoop to ask me that?" Turning towards me, she studied my apprehensive expression. "You honestly don't know?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Hmm."

I grimaced in frustration. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Rosalie pursed her lips together, looking away. I tried to scan her thoughts again, but she still had her mental wall in place, successfully keeping me out.

"Nothing."

I rolled my eyes. "Who's not trusting who, now?"

"Trust has nothing to do with this."

"How so?"

She stopped and turned to face me, releasing my hand. The sudden lack of physical connection was strangely disappointing, and I frowned involuntarily. "Your talent allows you access to things that none of the rest of us ever see or hear; things we should never know about one another. What makes you think that I automatically have to tell you everything? You certainly refrain from sharing all of your thoughts with me."

That was definitely true, but I downplayed her observation. "Not always."

"Then tell me what you really think of me. Right now."

I instantly regretted goading her earlier. How was I supposed to answer that?

Don't lie – remember, I'll know.

Her mind opened for a split-second, then closed again. How was she able to do that so effortlessly? That gave me an idea.

"I'll make you a deal – you tell me how you're able to block me so easily, and I'll answer your question in return."

She studied me for a moment before agreeing one way or the other. "You first."

I sighed exasperatedly. "Must everything be a battle with you?"

"Edward, you started this conversation. Therefore, I think it's only fair you go first. Plus, I need to determine if you're truly being honest before I divulge the secrets to my only talent."

I didn't know how to proceed. I desperately wanted to know how she was keeping me out of her head - the challenge was simply too tempting to ignore. But I also had to word my response to her earlier question very carefully, because I, myself, wasn't quite sure what I thought of her anymore. My initial perception was still somewhat valid – Rosalie was insecure at times, concerned with vanity far more than most people, and quick-tempered. But there was more now - assenting traits and qualities I hadn't seen until that fateful night in Rochester.

Rosalie may have appeared to be shallow and conceited on the surface, but underneath that were the makings of a complex creature. Intelligent, for sure. Strong-willed and determined. Someone searching for happiness and contentment. I couldn't blame her for her faults – her discontentment at becoming immortal mirrored my own internal turmoil, and so I found myself relating to a fair number of her personality traits. Should I share that with her?

I took a deep breath before speaking, controlling my tone and expression fully, so as to not make her suspicious that I was holding anything back.

"Rosalie, I think you're tenacious in your resolve. Obviously, you are very smart, though you only reveal that trait when it serves your own purposes." I paused, gauging her reaction. It was as blank as I hoped mine was. Such an actress. "But I also think you're unsatisfied with the cards you've been dealt, entirely malcontent with this new life, but also…with your human life as well." I was taking a huge risk calling her out on that last revelation. I waited anxiously for her response.

"Is that all, Edward?"

I frowned, hastily surmising a plan. Continue on, or refrain from sharing everything?

Rosalie jutted her chin out stubbornly, resulting in a hard look. That quickly made the decision for me.

"I can relate to you."

Unconsciously I glanced down at my feet, not in an attempt to appear theatrical, but rather, to keep my stoic expression from breaking. I heard her take in a sharp breath, and I chanced a tentative glimpse back up at her.

Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung slightly open. She was perfectly still; a mythical statue, completely out of place on a hillside in Appalachia. I searched her mind, but she was still blocking me, which made it impossible to determine if I had said too much, inevitably causing more strife…or perhaps my words had given her a little bit of peace.

The silence between us grew longer, more pronounced. Still, Rosalie did not move. I couldn't stand not knowing what she was thinking. So I said the only thing I could think of that would break her from the spell.

"Well, that, and you've got quite a temper." I chuckled lightly at my own words.

Her mouth closed immediately, her hands moving to her hips in a stance of feminine power. Finally, she spoke.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised at your last statement, since I asked you for the truth." She then turned and proceeded to march down the hill, leaving me behind.

Had I revealed too much? Was she upset by the temper comment, or my prior statement about relating to her pain? I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration, wondering, first, if I had done something wrong, and second, why I even cared. After all, she had asked for the truth, and I gave it to her.

But this diminutive, pesky voice deep inside of me pleaded for just one answer. I had opened myself to her…what would she do with that tiny bit of shared commonality between us?


AN: Okay, for all of you readers out there who are getting a little antsy for something "juicy" to happen, your patience will be rewarded – SOON. As in the next chapter! Sorry it took this long, but letting Rosalie break Edward too quickly just wouldn't be right now, would it?

Looking for a great pre-Twilight, in-canon fanfic? Go check out my beta's story, "In My Power" - Carlisle's tale of how he created each of his family members. Don't forget to review!