A/N: The Twilight Universe and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just playing around with them. I own nothing but Sage and the plot.

Much thanks and love to HammerHips for being the best Schwoogie-Muffin in the world.

Outtake 3: Helpless

Emmett POV

"Emmett, I think you should come home for a few days… Sage isn't doing so hot."

"What's wrong with her?" I asked, brow furrowed. The last thing I ever expected Uncle Charlie to say would be that Sage missed me. I knew she'd been relieved when I finally moved back to California and gave her some space. I didn't like being so far away from my kid sister, but Uncle Charlie had thought a change of scenery would be good for me and the distance might help Sage to come out of her shell a bit.

Unfortunately, she'd come out a bit too much for my taste. Sometimes she was downright combative. Anything from a comment on the weather to a question about what was for dinner could turn into an argument at the drop of a hat.

He sighed heavily. "The school Guidance Counselor phoned… apparently Sage expressed some worrisome thoughts and she recommended Sage see a Therapist."

"What aren't you telling me?" I asked suspiciously. Seeing a Therapist didn't seem like such a bad thing. Maybe we should've been doing that from the start, given the fact that Dad was in prison and mom had died before I was a teenager.

"It's bad, Em… she doesn't eat… she sleeps all the time. I should've seen the signs, but with work and her in school most of the day, I didn't really notice and now it's bad. The Therapist says she's depressed." I nearly choked on my coffee as he said that. "It's not Chronic Depression, where she needs medication to balance her out." He rushed on. "Clinical… Situational. The Therapist thinks she's overwhelmed with a lot of things and maybe a bit repressed. She's referred her to a Psychiatrist. She sees him tomorrow."

I stared down at my coffee, not really seeing anything. Sage was in pain… Maybe I shouldn't have left? "How long has this been going on?" I rasped.

There was another heavy sigh. "A few months… I didn't want to worry you, in case she came out of it on her own, but now they're talking medication…"

"Medication? Like anti-depressants? I thought you said it wasn't serious enough for that!" I was angry now. My baby sister needed medication, she was sick, and he was keeping it from me?

"Em, she may need them for a while to get where she needs to be. It's a common therapy these days. Please calm down."

"Why?" I challenged.

"Because Sage wants to talk to you and I don't want you upsetting her."

I softened at that. "Put her on."

There was a shuffling on the other end of the line and then I heard a deep breath. "Hi, Emmy." Sage's timid voice came over the phone.

"Hi, Sagey. What's going on?"

"I don't know." She whispered softly. "I don't feel anything."

"What do you mean you don't feel anything, Kid?" I was trying not to lose my patience with her, but she wasn't giving me anything to go on. How could I fix it if she wouldn't tell me what was wrong?

"I mean I don't feel anything." She answered, giving the last word a hard edge. "I feel numb… and dumb… and—"

"Sage Anne McCarty, you are not dumb!" I growled before I could stop myself.

Sage had always been the most intelligent person I knew. She was precocious as a baby… she was reading chapter books by the time she was four… For her eighth birthday, she asked for a set of encyclopedias because she'd been through the Children's and Young Adults sections of the local library and the librarian wouldn't let her check out anything more advanced without a parent around.

"I don't feel it." She murmured.

"Sage," I sighed. "Tell me how to fix this."

"I don't know!" she sobbed. "Don't you think if I knew, I'd tell you, Emmett? I can't fix it either if I don't know what's broken." She sniffled and there was another shifting and I could tell Charlie had taken the phone back.

"I told you not to upset her." He hissed. "She's been crying for days and you're not helping her by coming down on her, Emmett."

"I just asked her what's wrong!" I cried defensively.

"That's what Therapy is for. She's not going to understand what's wrong with her until she gets some help."

I sighed. I didn't know how else to respond to that. I'd never felt the way Sage described, so how could I possibly understand? I also wasn't used to feeling so helpless when it came to protecting Sage. When it was a bully or a situation she shouldn't be in, I knew how to react. I was truly flying blind with this.

"Maybe Jasper would help? He knows her better than anyone." I admitted grudgingly. If I was being honest with myself, I was jealous of the fact that Sage had bonded so easily with Jasper and gave him so much of herself.

"Sage doesn't want him to know."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"She just doesn't… I think she's a bit ashamed and more than a little scared… It took me days to convince her to let me tell you, Emmett. I don't think we should push the envelope too far and force her into telling Jasper or telling Jasper behind her back. I think that'd probably do more harm than good."

I sighed and scrubbed a hand over my face. "Alright… I'll ask Rose not to tell him… but I don't think she'll like the idea of keeping secrets from him." We said goodbye after that and I hung up before putting my face in my hands.

"Babe?" Rose's voice called from the doorway. I looked up and watched her shrug away from the door and close it before coming further into the office. "What's up? What's wrong?"

"Sage has depression." I mumbled. There was a sharp intake of breath and I added a hasty, "We're not supposed to tell Jasper."

"OK."

"OK?" I asked, peering up at her.

Rose shrugged. "It's Sage's business… and moreover, when Jasper finds out, it should be from Sage." She patted my arm. "How is she?"

"I don't know…" I mumbled and blinked several times as I felt the unfamiliar sting of tears. I managed to beat them back before they fell. "She says she feels numb… Rose, I don't know how to fix that."

"Maybe you're not supposed to." She supplied.

"I always fix things for Sage. That's what big brothers are for!" I cried indignantly.

Rose quirked an eyebrow at me and I immediately shrunk away a little. "What I'm saying, Emmett, is that maybe this is something Sage has to fix herself?" I growled in frustration and she sighed. "I know that's not how you operate, Babe, but it is what it is and you need to deal with that." I nodded sadly.

"Uncle Charlie suggested I go home for a few days."

"You should."

"What about you?" I asked curiously.

She shrugged. "I think this is a time for family… I don't think Sage would appreciate me being there during such an emotional time." I tried to argue, but she held up a hand. "Emmett, let me finish. I wouldn't want me there if I were Sage… I think she'd appreciate as much privacy as she can get. You know how she is… this throws a big spotlight on her and she's probably gritting her teeth at the very thought of it."

I nodded, my eyes falling to my desk.

How was I supposed to fix this?

It was with that question repeating non-stop that I drove the nearly sixteen hours straight the next day. I left at three AM, hoping that I could go above eighty and make it to Forks before Sage got out of school, but unfortunately construction on I-5 slowed me down.

I pulled in right at six PM and expected Sage to be fixing herself some dinner, but the house was completely dark. Bella's truck wasn't in the driveway and I was left to assume she was at a friend's house.

I made my way in and put my bag down in my old room before crossing the hall and knocking lightly on Bella and Sage's door. When I didn't receive an answer, I opened the door. Sage was curled into a ball under the covers of her bed and I sighed and sat down next to her.

As the bed dipped under my weight, she stirred and turned over to peer at me through the darkness. "Emmett?" she whispered hoarsely.

"Hey, Sagey."

"What are you doing here?"

"Charlie thought I should come home for a few days."

She frowned at that. "Uncle Charlie thought?"

"Yeah." I smoothed her hair back out of her face.

Sage's eyes narrowed at that. "Go away, Emmett."

"What? Why?"

"Because if you don't want to be here, I don't want you here!" she yelled. "Just go away! I'm fine without you!" she yanked her pillow from under her head and smacked me with it. "Go away!"

Sighing, I made my way out of the room and closed the door behind me. As I hit the ground floor, the front door opened and Bella stepped inside.

She smiled. "Hey, Em." I waved and her smile faltered. "Seen Sage?"

"Yeah." I whispered, and I realized too late my voice was a rasp. "I told her Charlie suggested I come home and she yelled at me to get out." I sighed and pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes. "Maybe I'll have better luck in the morning… when we've both had sleep."

"Good luck with that… Sage sleeps all the time now." I frowned at that. "Apparently it's a sign of Depression." She shrugged and moved past me to the staircase. "I won't be here long. I'm staying over at Jessica's…" she turned and gave me a long, hard look. "Em, if you were sick and scared… would you want Sage to rush home to you because she cared, or because someone suggested it?"

My breath caught in my chest at that. "Because I'd hope she cared enough…" I answered.

Bella nodded. "Maybe that's what she wants too… for you to care enough to come without being told."

She made sense, I supposed… but I was kind of hurt that Sage hadn't wanted to clue me in in the first place. Instead of arguing, however, I simply nodded and headed into the kitchen to make myself some dinner and call Rosalie.

"Hey, Babe." She answered on the second ring.

"Hey." I replied, silently cursing that I couldn't seem to get the choked-up feeling out of my throat. "How was your day?"

"Same old, same old… What's wrong? Are you getting sick?"

"I'm fine." I put the finishing touches on my sandwich and sat down at the table, but I simply stared at my plate.

"Em? Baby, what's wrong?" she sounded so concerned.

"You know me, Rosie… I messed up again." I sighed, rubbing my eyes.

"Oh, no… what happened?"

"I told her Charlie suggested I come home… and I guess now she thinks I didn't care enough to have come on my own…" I pushed my plate away.

Rosalie sighed. "I spoke to Jasper today. I didn't tell him anything, but he said Sage has been writing about how much you don't care… I think you missing her competition last month might've hurt more than she let on…"

Oh come on! Yes, I understood that Sage's riding was important to her, but it wasn't my thing… And I'd come up for her Soccer Championship the previous Spring… I did my best, but San Francisco was a long way away. As much as I'd like, as much as I missed Sage, I couldn't come visit at the drop of a hat every time she was competing.

"Maybe…" I answered. "Listen, Babe, I'll call you a bit later on to say goodnight, OK?"

"Sure. I love you."

"You, too." I hung up and continued to stare at my plate.

I honestly didn't think I was that bad of a brother. I mean, yeah, I messed up some… maybe I chased off a guy or two that might've been good ones, but most of them were assholes who only had it in their heads to go Cherry Picking… And yeah, maybe I was a bit stubborn on some subjects that weren't really worth fighting over, but I didn't think I did too bad of a job. I called Sage twice a week; I followed the Forks Trojans Soccer Team, the Track and Cross-Country Teams… Sometimes I went out to the Berryman Stables with her and watched her during her lessons…

That was good right?

Big brothers did that?

It was supportive.

"Hey, Em. How was the drive?"

My head snapped up as Uncle Charlie greeted me. I hadn't even heard him come in. "Long. How was work?"

"Long." He echoed. "Sage come down?"

I shook my head. "No… I think I might've screwed things up right off the bat. Told her you told me I should come up."

He grimaced. "Yeah, she's really sensitive to that stuff right now… Can't be too fun for her either. The other day, I told her I'd take her to Therapy because the Guidance Counselor thought it was a good idea… to her that meant I wasn't actually interested." He shook his head. "Kid's having a rough time, you know?"

I nodded. "I guess I'll try to take point more… maybe I should move home? Could try to get a job at Dowling's, or maybe Port Angeles?"

"Emmett, no!" Charlie cried, pulling a can of soup out of the cabinet and dumping the gelatinous goo into a small pot. He added water and then tossed the can. "She needs stability… shaking up her routine now… she'd feel like you were judging her." He rolled his eyes. "Please, just… visit… maybe reassure her a little…" he sighed and started the burner and gave the soup a quick stir. "You know… be her big brother."

"I'm not exactly sure that's what she wants from me." I replied, confused as I watched him stir the soup. "Uncle C, you're allergic to mushrooms… why the hell are you heating up Golden Mushroom soup?"

He shrugged. "It's about the only thing Sage eats these days. You gotten a look at her?"

"Just what I saw over her quilt, why?"

Charlie shook his head. "She's dropped a lot of weight… you know, she used to protein-load before games and meets… wouldn't allow herself any sugar…" he grimaced as he turned off the stove and poured the soup into a bowl. "I can't even get her to eat a piece of bacon or a chicken cutlet… but she doesn't want junk either… she just isn't hungry… literally." He sighed again. "I'll be back. It'll take me about ten minutes to coax her into eating." And with that, he disappeared up the stairs.

Ten minutes? TEN MINUTES?

The Sage I knew could scarf down a plate of eggs and bacon faster than it took Mike Newton to say something stupid… put a steak in front of her and you'd be lucky not to get your hand gnawed on… What world was I in that Sage wasn't hungry?

The answer to that question was simple: I was in my world, it just wasn't my Sage anymore.

My kid sister was the hyperactive kid who was always friendly, but years of being the "weird" kid in school had made her shy. When I was younger, I had unfortunately helped with that, always calling her strange… but she was smart… and she managed to find fault in it because everyone else did.

Instead of doing what other kids did and playing dumb, Sage had simply retreated into herself. It got so bad, I'd had to begin stepping in when kids tries to bully her because she'd simply stand there and take it.

When we met Jasper and Rosalie, I was immediately on guard. Sage was so enamored of him because he paid attention to her, and years of dealing with little assholes had conditioned me that any male was a threat to Sage… it was only made worse that he was actually nice to her. It made me wonder what his intentions were.

Then I realized they'd become friends. It was so strange to me, but with Jasper over two thousand miles away, I let her have that one. Jasper couldn't do much to hurt her from that distance… until their mom died. Sage was so worried all the time.

That thought made me pause. Sage was always worried about Jasper… Was that what caused this? Had her worry somehow morphed into her depression? It was possible, I supposed… but I didn't have any psychological expertise…

Maybe I could ask her Therapist at some point?

If she'd let me…

I seriously doubted Sage would let me.

Still… her worry over Jasper had been understandable. He was her only friend, really… but I hadn't realized until she'd begun agonizing over him that he owned her. She'd always loved him on some level because of his patience with her, his devotion to their friendship, his way of always being there for her… but I'd never seen her gut-wrench over anyone the way she did over him.

Jasper was the one who could truly ruin Sage… without even trying, he could decimate all. I wondered if he knew that, and if he did, was he being cautious with my baby sister's feelings?

I slept fitfully through the night and was up at dawn when Charlie left for work again. As soon as he was out the door, I showered and dressed, pulling on my hiking boots, before going in to wake Sage up.

She ignored me and groaned, pulling the pillow over her head to block out the dull rays of early morning light.

Sighing, I stood and went to the end of her twin bed. I lifted the corner closest to the wall enough to get a good grip on that side and then shoved the mattress vertical. Sage shrieked and a large thud let me know she'd hit the hardwood.

"Get up, Sage. We're going for a hike."

She glared at me. "Go away."

"Not gonna happen. You and I are gonna go for a hike and we are gonna talk. You may not want to listen, but you're damn sure gonna. Get. Dressed."

A half-hour later, she'd showered and changed into a pair of jeans and a black hoodie I recognized as the one she'd stolen from Jasper while we were in Galveston. She was wearing her hiking boots, and though her hair was still wet from the shower, she'd braided it into pigtails, which only served to remind me of the kid I still saw in my Mind's Eye when I thought about her.

Eerily enough, she still looked so much like our mother. Right down to the haunted look in her eyes. Mom hadn't adopted that look until she was terminal, but it was a look I remembered well. It was a look I always associated with hospitals and death… a look that, for a moment, made me flashback to my eleven year-old self holding in my grief while I tried to explain to Sage that Mommy wasn't coming home anymore… that she had gone away, but it was OK… because she wasn't sick anymore.

I hadn't known how to explain death to a six year-old. It was years before Sage asked me to clarify, and then? I'd been so fucking blindsided, I'd compared it to when her kindergarten class' gerbil had died.

Fucking smooth…

I put a plate of eggs in front of her and she stared at it for a moment.

"I'm not hungry."

"Eat."

"I'm not hungry." The tone was dull and listless. Normally, if Sage had to repeat herself, the volume went up and the tone took a hard edge.

"Eat." I repeated. "I'm not asking. I'm telling you. Eat."

"Or what?" she challenged, rolling her eyes. "You gonna sit on my chest and shove them down my throat?"

I was so angry, I didn't think, but simply grabbed the hem of the hoodie and yanked it up to expose her ribs, though I stopped before it reached an embarrassing area. Unfortunately, she'd been so off-guard, she wasn't prepared and I ended up jerking her out of the chair and she was standing askance, bent sideways at an odd angle to accommodate the direction the shirt was being pulled while still trying to preserve her modesty.

Charlie was right: she'd dropped a ton of weight. Sage wasn't big to begin with. She'd always been small… she was only four pounds, twelve ounces at birth—at two weeks late—though she was perfectly healthy. But this… I could see each rib. It certainly wasn't healthy, and I knew in the right mindset, Sage would be grossed out to see herself.

Under the harsh fluorescents of the kitchen, I also noted her pallor had changed to a waxy white, instead of the usual peaches and cream we shared… her eyes were sunken in and had this permanent glassy look to them.

Was she high?

No.

I doubted very much that my fourteen year-old sister knew how to get her hands on any drugs, and even then… I knew she was too chicken to use them.

Still…

I sighed and released her shirt. She sat back down immediately. "Eat." I whispered hoarsely. "Don't make me say it again."

She ate silently, chewing slowly as though she could wait me out… like she figured I'd get impatient and take the plate away, but I waited and watched her like a hawk. After several minutes of tense silence, she put her fork down and went to rinse her plate.

When she turned back to me, a blank mask had slid into place and she simply blinked at me. I nodded toward the door and she followed me out to the Jeep.

There were a lot of great hiking areas I could've chosen, but we weren't geared for them and I wasn't sure if Sage had the strength to deal with something too long, so I drove us down to La Push and parked in front of the store.

From there, we trekked through the woods and up to the cliffs I knew a lot of the Quileutes used for cliff-diving. I'd never jumped off the cliffs, and I never intended to. Sage was scared of heights, so I didn't have a worry of her ever being that stupid or reckless… but that wasn't the point of our hike anyhow.

When we stopped at the edge of the highest cliff, she sat down and threw her legs over the edge, simultaneously flipping her hood over her hair so that all I could see were her two braids poking out of either side.

I sighed. "I'm sorry that I made you feel as though I wouldn't have come if Charlie hadn't told me to. I wanted to come, and would have regardless." She made no indication she'd even heard me. "Sage, I want to help, I want to fix this, and I don't know how." Still no response. "Is this because of Jasper?"

At that, her head whipped around so fast her hood fell off and the murderous look she gave me nearly made me cower. "Jasper hasn't done anything to me." She all but snarled.

I held up my hands in a gesture of calm and said, "I'm just wondering because you've been very worried about him. I know he's taken Amelia's death really hard… he doesn't like to talk about it with Rosalie, but I'm sure he writes to you about it. I just wanted to make sure you haven't been bottling up his feelings."

Sage turned to look out at the ocean again. "I don't have any emotions to bottle." She answered quietly.

"Of course you do." I pressed.

She shook her head, braids swinging. "I feel dead inside… like a part of me is rotting away and infecting and killing the rest of me in the process. That is what I feel. Can you help with that, Emmett?" she asked, her voice hard.

I took a deep breath. "No. I don't suppose I can."

"Then don't feed me some bullshit about taking it like a champ, rolling with the punches, and being the End-All, Be-All to myself. I don't need to hear it and it's bull anyhow."

I winced at that. Those were my phrases, used during my lame attempts at pep talks when she'd been bullied as a scared fifth grader… the year she'd come home beaten and bloody… the year I'd had to start shadowing her everywhere… making sure no one messed with her, threatening kids behind her back…

I should've taught her to speak for herself. I should've shown her she had a voice.

Jasper had done that.

And part of me really resented him for it.

Stupid, I know… but how was I supposed to feel? When I tried to take care of her like a brother should, she hated me for it. When he did it, she loved him and clung to him even more.

But Jasper wasn't the issue. Sage was.

Sighing, I kicked a rock over the edge. "I used to come up here to think… you know, after we moved up here… sometimes it was just easier, with the wide-open spaces, the vast expanse… put everything into perspective. I'm not saying you have to come up here, or even that we have to stay here now… I wanted to bring you up here to show you that there are places to find sanctuary when you need to think. Maybe this place'll help you gain some perspective when you feel you're lacking." She quirked an eyebrow, but didn't look at me. "Sage, I want you healthy… I need you healthy. You're my baby sister, you're my only family, and I refuse to let you be ill in any fashion."

She snorted at that. "I'll make a note of that."

"Just work on it… please? Work with the Therapists and the Shrink and take the medicine… swallow the Kool-Aid, whatever… you know? Make yourself better."

"I'll make a note of that too." She pretended to scribble on a pad of paper. "Heal Thyself." She finally set her eyes on me again. "We done? I'm tired."

I nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, we're done."

What else was I supposed to say to that? I wanted to help, but it seemed every move I made only worsened the situation. Part of my brain suggested staying away, but I wasn't about to let Sage believe I'd abandoned her, and I couldn't, even if I wanted to. She was my family. I had to take care of her.

I just hated feeling so helpless.

End Note: Leave me some love. You know I love to get reviews