Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga or any of the characters who were born from it.

Previously: Edward arrived at the institution and found that Bella was still alive. Edward removed Bella from her cell and they were reunited.

Chapter 3 (Rosalie's point of view)

"Whoa," Emmett says under his breath, his freshly golden eyes widening as we take in the sorrowful sight before us. The place reeked of death; even without seeing the area of mass destruction, it was easy to tell that many people had died here. Forks Hospital is now a graveyard. Emmett moves in front of my protectively as if he were trying to shield me from the dead. Looking around at the bodies of the people I had barely known, my own dead body feels colder than it ever has in all the years I've existed.

"There are no survivors here," Jasper observes bleakly, stating what we had already assumed. There was not a human heart beating within our hearing range. Carlisle had sent us three to see if anyone was still suffering from the terrible disease that had ravaged the Earth. Carlisle himself was unsure of what he would do if we found any; it would go against his deepest morals to let them perish, but he could not leave Bella's fragile health to chance by risking exposure. By the looks of things, he wasn't going to have to make the decision.

"At least they died quickly," Emmett murmurs sympathetically, gazing out at the dead humans in horrified awe, "The first to go may have had hope when they died."

I turn to him questioningly, slightly relieved to have a reason to turn away from the awful scene. My big bear of a husband has hardly ever looked so child-like in all the years I've known him. I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck while we wait for him to respond. Jasper seems just as interested in his comment. "I mean, the people who went to the hospital probably didn't know what was coming. Those who died at home, well, they knew what was coming for 'em I guess." He looks down, accepting my embrace weakly.

"It's okay," I murmur soothingly, stroking his hair lovingly, "Our family is fine. Bella is still okay, remember?"

His posture straightens at that reminder. "Yeah," he agrees, "At least clumsy Bellsie is still healthy. I just…We knew these people, y'know? We might not have spoken to them on a regular basis, but we still new who they were. They had lives, and futures, and it was all snatched away from them so fast…They didn't even know it was coming."

"Humans are very fragile," I sigh, "They may have life, but they also have death. Their lives are so fragile. They wake up one morning, and then they never sleep again. It's all very precarious, I guess. That's one thing I suppose I don't envy about them."

Still, I know the image of the hospital shall haunt me for eternity. Even without my flawless memory, the impromptu graveyard would have a pedestal in my mind for the duration of my existence. The bodies…so many bodies. So many dead, so many who would never have the life I wanted so badly. You're not the only one, I think wryly. I know many of these faces; I saw them every day in the hallways of Forks High School for years. Had none of this occur, they would have fallen into the dusty dictionary of past peers I had accumulated over my years. How strangely it is we remember those who die the best, and not those who go on to live happy lives.

A cold hand clasps my shoulder, and I swerve around to face my assailant. Realizing that it is only my brother, I sigh. "I think it would be best if we moved on now," he suggests firmly, leaving no room for disagreement, "There is nothing here." Nothing, I think coldly, Nothing but the dead and their hopes and dreams.

We take off into the woods again, listening closely for any sign of human life. Despite the near annihilation of the human population, animals are still thriving. At least one heard of deer is searching for food. I hear a mother bear and her cubs about a mile away. At least we will be well-fed, unlike our less ethical brethren. My brooding brother had yet to take this factor into account. His human is probably one of the only creatures of her kind still alive, and there is going to be a high demand for humans in the coming centuries.

We run through Forks, untroubled by our old fears of being spotted by a human. The sun shines down on us brightly, and our skin is equally as radiant as we carry out our search. Our eyes are pealed for a specific person whom Bella would be especially distressed to find dead, namely Charlie Swan. He was not at the hospital, and that does not surprise me. Loyal Chief Swan struck me as the type of man to fight until the bitter end for the town he'd fought sworn to protect. We search every likely place in Forks until the sun begins to fall out of view, the same as it was a week ago. Nothing bothers the stars, I suppose.

"It's useless," I groan, coming to an abrupt stop as we leave the police station, "He's not here. He was probably on some trip in Seattle, and I am not going all the way over there tonight." I feign exhaustion in a weak attempt to hide the true reason for my resentment of a trip to the big city. If tiny Forks was completely transformed into a graveyard of this degree of horror, the idea of the sight Seattle must be makes me shudder. So many people…

"Maybe he was in La Push," Emmett suggests, "Wasn't he friends with one of those Quileute elders?"

Jasper and I nod in resignation. A trip to La Push I can handle, though the damage there must surely be as wretched as in Forks. We speed off into the twilight, all of our separate thoughts on how different this twilight is from all the others we have seen.

"Stop," Jasper calls, astounded. We all come to an abrupt halt.

"What is it?" I ask, glancing around anxiously in search of any danger. The memory of James, Victoria, and Laurent rages to the forefront of my mind like the ghost of a spiteful viper, refusing to be forgotten.

"Listen," my brother hisses, "Heartbeats, human heartbeats!"

We instantly go completely silent, Emmett and I straining to push our less-than-military-grade hearing to its fullest. They are there, though the auspicious signs of life are barely discernible among the other sounds of the forest. I notice in awe that the rhythm of the hearts does not stutter; these humans are relatively healthy. There are not enough to indicate that the entire town of La Push had survived; from the snatches of conversation we can catch, I gather that they are working to bury the dead.

"Come on," Jasper orders us quietly. He holds himself tensely, his pupils flitting around in his golden irises at top speed.

"Ew," I whisper as we come closer to the suspicious humans, "It smells like wet dog."

Even from a mile away I can hear the humans stop moving and speaking for a few moments. "Did you hear that?" a low male inquires sullenly.

"Bloodsuckers," a second man sneers.

"Looking for somebody to drink, no doubt," a third growls.

"Not findin' one here," a fourth speaker remarks bitterly.

"C'mon, guys," the first speaker orders them tiredly, "Let's do this. La Push is still ours to defend."

"What's to defend?" the fourth speaker snaps viciously, "It's all gone, everything's gone! Everybody's gone, she's gone, and…" He chokes up at the end of his statement. Momentarily, I feel pity for the poor soul; he has undoubtedly lost someone he cared for, someone he would never see again. I am yet again grateful for my family's immunity to such diseases as the one that has slaughtered billions of more fragile beings.

Emmett, Jasper, and I slow to a barely human pace. Our suspicion is palpable in the air. The chance of these few humans being randomly immune to the disease is very slim. Their smell, combined with that probability leads me to believe that there is something not quite right about them. I reach out to enclose Emmett's hand in my own. These beings—supernatural or otherwise—will not be a threat to my family; I've seen today the horrors that can befall human families, and I am not about to let anything jeopardize mine.

"Oh, be quiet, Jacob," the first speaker, whom I gather to be some sort of leader, "Quit acting like you're the only one in pain."

"You're one to talk, Sam," the one named Jacob accuses his conversation partner, "After Emily…passed, you tried to off yourself, and now you're telling me I'm not allowed to mope?"

"C'mon, guys, lets…" a younger boy begins tiredly.

"That's different, Jacob, and you know it," Sam snaps, his voice heavy with the weight of his grief.

Jasper visibly flinches, stopping completely. He kneels down onto one knee, his breathing erratic. If I didn't know better, I'd say he is out of breath. The muscles in his back spasm briefly as if he was beginning to convulse. His glittering fingers sink into the forest floor as if it were mere butter, though the crunching of the twigs and rocks on the ground projects quite the opposite impression. He grunts in exertion as he reels to recover himself. His battle scars are one of his most conspicuous qualities in the sunlight; they remind me of the years he spent fighting in the South and all the pain he felt there. For this to bother him to such a degree, the pain of the men ahead of us must be immense.

Emmett crouches down behind him and places a large hand on his shoulder, still keeping a hand in mine. "Come on, Buddy. It's alright. You're okay."

"Alice!" Jasper gasps feebly.

"Alice is okay," Emmett soothes him, "She's with Bella, remember? And Carlisle, and Esme, and Edward…They wouldn't let anybody hurt her. We're all okay."

My brother shakes as he rises to his feet again. He runs a muddy hand through his hair, carelessly dirtying his golden locks. His designer jeans—hand-picked by Alice, of course—are also stained with mud. He sighs, casting my husband a thankful glance.

The boy named Jacob begins to shout, "You don't know…"

"Jake," the young boy pleads, "Remember, the vampires!"

Jacob sighs, beginning to cool down. "Right," he snaps, "The filthy, disgusting bloodsuckers…" He mutters something that I don't catch.

"Right," Sam agrees reluctantly, "The bloodsuckers."

The sound that greets my ears next bewilders me: the unmistakable clothes of people removing their clothes. Emmett, seeming to find humor in that, jokes, "What, are we about to suffer the wrath of the nudists?" I half-heartedly smack his arm.

The next sound, however, is even more shocking. It is a sound I have heard few times before, though I still recognize it after all these decades. "The wolves," I whisper, taking a step back, "It's the wolves; they're wolves."

Emmett throws me behind him again, still under the delusion that I need protecting; he knows better than anyone that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Jasper looks back at us in confusion, raising one blond eyebrow at me. "Wolves?" he inquires softly, bewilderment evident in his tone.

"Werewolves," I warn him lowly, "Those men—the Quileutes—are werewolves."

"We met up with them a while back. We thought they died out a long time ago…" Emmett breathes.

"But I guess not," I conclude bitterly.

Jasper's eyes widen as he takes in that new information. "Well, thanks for the warning," he states semi-sarcastically, "You could have…"

"No time," I snap, "The border, we have to go back over the border!"

Emmett and I take off, Jasper following closely at our heals as a pack of wolves suddenly shoots into pursuit. I easily find the place where we agreed to make our border centuries ago easily, though there is no longer any tangible evidence that the river separates a pack of werewolves from a coven of vampires.

As we turn to face the coming attack, I wish desperately that Carlisle were here. I glance at Jasper, waiting for him to take the head position in our trio, but he shakes his head. I look at Emmett, but he only nods at me and then at the frontal position. Taking a deep breath, I step to the front of our group. When the wolves are within view, I call, "Stop! We just want to talk!"

At first, I don't think they're going to listen. Then the one in front, a large black wolf that must be the leader, skids to a stop. The others, though some reluctantly, follow his example. My nose wrinkles as the stench of wet dog becomes even more potent. Asking myself what Carlisle would think, I work to keep my face straight. Carlisle would want to keep our relationship with the wolves cordial at the very least. He would be polite to the dogs, which means not showing his distaste at their smell.

Once the dogs are all standing still and I'm mildly certain that they won't attack us at this very moment I begin to speak. "As I'm sure you know, I am Rosalie Cullen, and these are some of my family members. We have returned to Forks to recover one of our members who we have been missing for the past few months. My husband, brother, and I were just patrolling the area to check for any survivors. Once our business is done we will leave; we mean you no harm."

A russet wolf whose size rivals the leaders snarls viciously, seeming to roar with rage. His disheveled reddish brown fur shakes as he does. Apparently realizing that we cannot understand the insults he is barking at us, he transforms into a muscular man around Emmett's height.

"How dare you! How dare you come back here after all this time and try to take her back! Well, I've got news for you, you filthy, disgusting bloodsuckers—you won't find her here! It's too late. You were too late. I was too late. And she wouldn't take your ghastly excuse of a blood-sucking brother back even if she weren't…if she weren't…" he shouts vehemently, trailing off at the end. The sun reflects off a tear as it falls one of his sad brown eyes.

"Dead? What do you mean, she's…" Emmett begins to ask.

I cut him off. "How do you know she's dead?"

Seeming to recover himself, he sucks in a deep breath and replies, "I went to the hospital where she was. Yes, you messed her up so bad they had to put her in that place. Everyone was dead. Most of the workers either abandoned the place or died there. I couldn't even go inside." He squints his eyes shut as if he were trying to ward off a dreadful memory.

I do my best to look properly disappointed. My mouth puckers into a small 'O' shape and I widen my eyes. "Oh. Well, that changes things, I suppose," I say quietly. I look down as if I were quickly changing my plans. "I guess we'll just be going then." I turn to walk away, gesturing to Emmett and Jasper to follow my lead. Then, stopping as if on a whim, I inquire, "Do you know anything of her father?"

"He's dead," Jacob chokes ruefully, "We buried him in with the rest of our people. He was a true friend to us."

"And," I continue, "If you don't mind me asking before we go, what is your plan now?"

He looks around at his canine brethren. "We're not sure," he responds quietly, "I guess we'll just be staying alive." I find it curious that he says the word alive as if it were some sort of curse.

"Thank you," I tell them cordially, turning to leave again.

This time, I run off into the woods toward the mental hospital to deliver our findings to everyone else. Our feet fall gracefully onto the pine needles that layer the forest floor, barely leaving any trace of our presence despite our high speeds. I watch as Jasper pulls about a hundred yards ahead, still appearing haunted by the emotions he felt coming from the wolves. I pout in displeasure, wondering if I handled the situation correctly. That certainly wasn't how Carlisle would have handled the situation, but I think that it was the best way to protect our family.

"What was that all about?" Emmett asks as we run, "Telling them Bella was dead?"

"We have enough problems on our hands, don't you think," I reply, "Without a pack of mangy wolves fighting with us over Bella. It's better if they just think she's dead. Happier for them, safer for all of us. We'll be leaving soon anyway, and Bella's coming with us, so it's better if they keep inside their little canine bubbles."

Emmett, however, remains contemplative. After a minute or so of us quietly dodging trees, he states thoughtfully, "I just thought, maybe, it might be nice to give them something to hope for, don't you think?"

I sigh, considering his opinion. Disgruntled as I am by his contradiction of me, I must admit that I see where he's coming from.

Not that I'd say that out loud, anyway.

"Why should I care about the feelings of dogs?" I sneer hopelessly, picking up my pace in an apparent effort to catch up to Jasper.

"Rosie!" Emmett calls after me, gently grabbing my shoulder to stop me. We stand in the middle of a deserted street. He holds me in front of him, though he does not use so much force that I could not leave if I wanted to. His mouth was twisted into a grimace, and I observe that he still has the dimples I adored so much. "Rosie," he pleads, "Please don't distance yourself from me. I know times are tough, but that's why we need to stay together. This is terrible stuff, it all really is. I know it feels like the whole world is dying, but we still have each other. We still need each other. We can get through this, but we have to stay together. I hate it when you get like this. I know that's your defense mechanism, but please, baby, let me help. Don't shut me out."

Overcome with emotion, I throw my arms around his neck. He wraps his strong arms around me, and I know that what he says is true. We can do this. We just need to stay together.

Authors note: I'd just like to say thank you to the people who reviewed the previous chapter; they really made my day. As for all of you reading this, reviews are always nice, though I understand that not everyone has the time to review. I don't mind short reviews; any way you can indicate that you enjoyed/read the chapter is very much appreciated. If you're unsure of what to say, I'll put a review prompt at the end of every chapter. Answering the question is totally optional, and additional thoughts are also great.

Review prompt: What did you think of the Emmett and Rosalie moment at the end?

Also, don't go thinking this is the last we'll ever see of the wolves. You didn't think Jake would let go that easily, did you?