Not Without A Fight
Annaleise Marie

Round Nine

AN: So much thanks for the feedback on the last chapter! I feel so loved! :3

Now, I'm sure you were all waiting with baited breath for Emmett and Rosalie's talk, so let's light this candle, shall we?

I own a tummy ache from overeating on Thanksgiving, but I don't own Twilight. That's the property of Stephenie Meyer. And she can keep most of it. I just want Emmett and Rosalie.

---

EPOV

Jesus Christ, I had never seen a girl look so uncomfortable in my life as Rosalie did as she stood in my bedroom. She remained close to the door, as though staying ready to escape. God, why did people always get like this the second someone mentioned the phrase, "we need to talk"? It blew my mind a little.

Now that she was here, I didn't even know how to begin talking about this subject. Thankfully, Rosalie started it for me after a few minutes of awkward silence.

"Alice told me she talked to you about what happened," she said quietly.

"In no great detail, and in great extended metaphors," I said, smiling. I was trying to put her at ease by acting like I was at ease, but I wasn't sure it was working. She wouldn't make eye contact with me. I sighed. "What happened?" I asked, deciding to just cut to the chase – like ripping off a band-aid. I wasn't sure it would help, but hell, I didn't know what else to do.

"What is it exactly that you want to know?" she asked, and I could swear I saw a trace of annoyance flicker across her features. Here we go.

"Anything you want to tell me," I said. Truly, I wanted to know all of it, but I wasn't going to press the issue, either, if she was already annoyed.

---

RPOV

Anything I want to tell him? I don't want to tell him anything. I don't want him to know. I don't want anyone to know. Alice had found out, and by association Jasper knew, but I had no desire for Emmett to start seeing me as damaged goods.

Because here's the thing about damaged goods – no one wants them. That's why they're discounted at supermarkets. I didn't want that with Emmett. I didn't want him to see what had happened every time he looked at me.

"You could start at the beginning," he suggested.

"You already know the beginning. The roses," I said. Sure, I could retell the story, and kill some time, and hope that information would satisfy him for the time being, but I got the feeling that wouldn't work.

"Then fill in the blanks in Alice's story?"

"Such as?"

"What did Royce do to you?" he asked. There it was. The question I had been dreading. I couldn't find the words. In my mind, I knew them. But they were such raw words, so foreign to someone like me, who had never imagined them ever being a reality, that they sounded too dry, too point-blank, and I couldn't force my mouth to actually form them.

"I have a pretty good idea," he said after a moment, when I still hadn't managed to say anything. "I could give you my theories, and you could confirm them, or deny them, if you're having trouble saying it."

For a guy so lacking in common sense, he was pretty damned perceptive. I nodded, steeling myself for the questions.

"Did he hurt you?" His first question was much simpler than I had expected. I nodded hesitantly.

"Did he hit you?" The next question, harder. It was like tearing stitches out before they were ready to be removed. I nodded, almost afraid to look at him. When I did, he was resting his head on his laced hands, staring at the floor, his eyes narrowed. I knew what question was coming next, and I was pretty sure I knew what his reaction would be.

"Did he rape you?"

There it was. I felt sick to my stomach. I didn't want to tell him this one. I didn't want to see what was sure to be in his eyes when he finally looked at me after hearing it. The disgust, the regret at choosing me, the anger for not telling him what a horrible decision it had been from the beginning... I didn't want to see that.

"Did he?"

I was going to vomit. It was going to happen. There was just no way that my stomach was not going to fight its way out of my throat. I was shaking. I couldn't breathe. Maybe I would pass out. Something bad was bound to happen.

"Rosalie."

"Yes," I choked out. I was staring at the floor but I heard him move, heard him coming towards me. I expected him to pass me, to leave the room, or maybe make me leave. I expected him to not even want to look at me. I hoped he would just tell me to get out without me having to see the disgust.

No such luck.

"Look at me," he said quietly. He didn't sound angry, or disgusted, but I didn't want to get my hopes up until I looked at him. At the same time, I still didn't want to look at him. "Please." I could feel tears building in my eyes, and on one level it horrified me at how much the though of him hating me for what had happened scared me. I hadn't even known him that long and yet the thought of losing him in any way was upsetting me more than anything, more even than what Royce had done.

His hand came up slowly, gently, to my chin, not forcing, but guiding my face up to look at him. Finally seeing his face, I felt relief wash over me, relief so strong that I once more felt like I might vomit as my stomach dropped back into its proper place. Because he wasn't looking at me with disgust, or anger, or any of the emotions that I had feared seeing.

He looked sad. Genuinely, truly, heartbreakingly sad. That was what made the tears finally fall. I didn't want him to have to share in what had happened. I didn't want him feeling sorrow for what had happened to me. He shouldn't have to shoulder that.

And then I was being pulled into his chest, his arms wrapping around me and his face buried in my hair. I brought my own arms up and grasped the back of his shirt, feeling the need to anchor myself somehow.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered, and that just made me cry harder. Crying is messy. This isn't a teen movie where everything is sweet in its sadness, and I wanted to apologize for soaking the front of his shirt, but all of my words stuck in my throat as I had to gasp for air. I was sure my makeup was smudging, running into the cotton. I should apologize for that.

He didn't seem to mind as he tightened his embrace, and I finally just allowed myself to cry. I hadn't allowed myself to cry, over any of it, until this point. I didn't want to worry Alice and Jasper with just how hurt I was, so I allowed my usual anger to mask it, afraid that I would worry them more, but more afraid that if I allowed myself to grieve, everyone would be able to see it, like I was wearing a huge sign detailing the event.

But now Emmett was holding me, and apologizing like it was his fault that it had happened and not mine, and I couldn't do I anymore.

I don't know how long he held me there. I was exhausted, cried out when he finally let me go. He kissed my forehead gently before finally backing away. I felt cold, empty the second he pulled away. His next words came as a relief.

"Do you want to stay?" he asked. I nodded, relieved. I felt like it should go against every one of my instincts to agree to stay in a guy's room, after rehashing everything that happened, but I felt strangely safe with Emmett, and I didn't really want to go back home to think about all of it alone. He went to his closet, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt, handing them to me and nodding to the bathroom. I took them, thankful that I didn't have to sleep in my dress because well, I felt like asking him for anything else tonight would be too much.

Once in the bathroom I fished my cell out of my bra – do not look at me like that, this dress doesn't exactly have pockets – and dialed Jasper's number.

"Hello?" Alice's sleepy voice answered.

"Alice? What are you doing there?" I asked. She sighed.

"Sleeping. Or at least, I was until a second ago," she said, sounding grumpy.

"Listen, I need you to do me a favour. Can you go downstairs and leave a note that I'm staying at Bella's tonight?" I asked, pulling the phone away from my ear for a second to pull the tee shirt over my head. Really, I could wear it alone and it would pass as a nightgown, but I was glad he gave me pants, too. No matter how safe I felt, I didn't need to be in his bed half-naked.

"What? Why?" Alice asked and I wondered how deeply asleep she was if those simple instructions were confusing her.

"So that Mom doesn't freak out again."

"What?" she asked again. "Your parents left like an hour ago. They said they had a plane to catch."

I sighed. Of course. I should have figured that they wouldn't be sticking around very long. I had been planning on talking to them about how I had ended my relationship with Royce tomorrow, but I guess it would have to wait.

"Okay. Sorry to wake you. Goodnight, Alice."

"Night," she said, sounding relieved that she was going to be able to go back to sleep. The call ended and I took a deep breath, preparing myself to go back into Emmett's room.

---

EPOV

I wasn't really sure how to react to what Rosalie had told me. I had suspected it, but somehow having it confirmed was like a swift kick to the stomach. How had someone done that to her?

And then she cried. And it wasn't like the first time, in Port Angeles. This was serious. In that moment, I had felt my heart break. I looked down at my shirt and saw her smudged makeup. It infuriated me. Not because of Rosalie causing the stain, but because of Royce causing this whole big mess. Sure, there had been times when Rosalie made me want to bash my head against any available hard surface, but I couldn't imagine anyone ever wanting to hurt her.

I stared at the ceiling as I laid back in my bed, staring at the ceiling. I was torn between two different things. One side of me wanted to stay here and hold Rosalie, and comfort her, and make sure she got through the night okay.

The other side was insisting that I leave right now, hunt Royce down, and make him feel every last bit of pain that he had caused Rosalie.

But that could wait. Right now, Rosalie needed me more. I knew this. It didn't make the urge to hunt Royce down go away, but it would keep it under control for now.

She finally emerged from the bathroom after ten minutes, completely swimming in my clothes, and it had a whole different effect than the first time. She looked weak, small... defeated. And in that moment, I hated Royce even more than I had thought possible. He had taken this strong, beautiful girl and reduced her to this.

I tried to keep my face calm. I didn't want her to think I was mad at her, or that I was upset with her about what she had told me.

She crawled into bed beside me, resting her head on my chest, and I was almost surprised that she was initiating contact, given the circumstances. She was shaking, and I didn't know if it was nerves – I could guess that they were probably shot all to hell at the moment – or if she was cold, but I pulled up the sheets and comforter before wrapping my arms around her again.

I didn't know what to think anymore. I had never had to deal with anything like this before this point. How was I supposed to act? What was I supposed to say?

"Hey Emmett?" Rosalie said, snuggling deeper into my chest.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks," she said. I had to laugh. I couldn't believe she was thanking me for anything.

"What for?" I asked. She shrugged.

"Everything."

I fucking love her. All this shit, everything that had happened – and I couldn't help loving her, anyway.

I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I'm scared shitless.

"Anytime."

---

"Jasper," I said quietly. I had snagged Rosalie's phone the next morning while she was still asleep. Jasper answered on the second ring, sounding bored.

"Emmett?" Slightly more interested now that he realized it was me instead of Rosalie. "What's going on? Is Rosalie okay?"

"She's fine, considering," I said, peering through the crack in the bathroom door. Because yes, I was hiding in my own bathroom.

"Oh. Then what do you want?" he asked, sounding bored again.

"I need to know how to find Royce."

"He's not hard to find. But you should consider this before you go after him: We live in Forks. Everyone hears about every little scandal. If you go after him, everyone will know what's going on by the next day. Rosalie wants this kept quiet. It might be better for you to just concentrate on helping her heal and move on," he said.

"I want to kill him." It was an exaggeration. I wouldn't kill him. I'd beat him within an inch of my life, but scum like him wasn't worth a life sentence.

"Trust me man, I know the feeling. But you have to consider Rosalie. She may be hurting now, but imagine when everyone in town knows, because of you, when she didn't want anyone to know. You need to help her deal with this on her terms. She obviously trusts you. Do you really want to violate that trust by letting everyone find out?" he asked. "She'll tell people when and if she's ready."

"What are you, a therapist?"

"Hey, my relationship works, doesn't it?" he asked. "And trust me, Alice has her own issues that she's had to cope with."

This was true. Well, I didn't know anything about any issues, but his relationship definitely worked.

"Anyway, what's Rosalie doing?" he asked.

"Sleeping," I said.

"She probably shouldn't wake up alone, if she went to bed with you. It might freak her out," he said. "Later, man."

He hung up and I sighed, walking back into the bedroom and placing Rosalie's phone back on the bedside table before sneaking my way back into bed. Rosalie inched back towards me and at first I was amazed that she was wanting to be so close to me, even in her sleep, but then I realized that it was fucking freezing in my room. I had left the window open and the night had brought snow.

A solid four inches, judging by what had come through the screen and piled on the windowsill. Jesus Christ. I sat back up and shut the window before laying back down and pulling the covers over us again. I felt restless; I needed to do something. But at the same time I was content to just lay here with Rosalie in my arms as long as she'd allow it.

It was only seven in the morning. I figured I had a few hours before this ended, and I didn't know how she would feel about last night when she woke up. So I may as well enjoy it while it lasted.

---

I woke up again around ten to the sound of the shower running, and one thought penetrated my foggy mind. Rosalie was in my shower.

Rosalie was in my shower naked.

Rosalie was in my shower naked and wet.

Okay. Definitely not the thoughts to be having after last night. But that didn't change the fact that Rosalie was naked in my shower. Dear God, was this some sort of fucking test? Hadn't I been tested enough? There was only so much a guy could take, after all.

I dragged myself out of bed and made my way downstairs, grabbing my cigarettes from the top of my dresser on the way. A few minutes of standing out in the cold and some nicotine, then some coffee, should help.

And Jesus Christ, was it cold.

I was only halfway through my cigarette when I heard the storm door open and then arms wrapped around me from behind. I turned around to see Rosalie, her hair up in one of the bandanas that I used for kickboxing when my hair was longer, and once more swimming in my clothes, this time an oversized hoodie with the logo of one of the many high schools I had attended.

"Fleeing Anatevka, Chava?" I asked, grinning. "And raiding my closet before you go?"

"It's fucking cold, and my hair is wet," she defended. "I don't want to get sick. And you don't want me to get sick. I'm kind of a bitch when I'm miserable."

"When you're miserable?" I asked, earning myself a quick jab to my chest. "Okay, okay, sorry, you're not a bitch. In fact, I've never heard anything more ridiculous in my life."

"Have I told you lately that you're full of shit?" she asked.

"I think it's actually been a few weeks. It's probably overdue," I said, shrugging. She smiled.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"What for now?" I asked. She shrugged.

"For not being all weird now that you know... you know, everything," she said.

"Rosalie Hale? Thanking me? Are you sure you're not already sick?" I asked. She rolled her eyes and then jumped as a low whine broke through the air.

"What the hell?" I muttered as I spotted a huge pile of snow, Nanuq's nose poking out of it. I rolled my eyes. Dumb ass dog. She had a dog house and everything, and she just laid outside all night and let it snow on her. I stepped off of the deck, digging around in the pile of snow to find her collar and pull her out. "You useless—"

I was cut off as something collided with my side, knocking me off balance and sending me toppling into the snow, the weight settling on my back. Rosalie laughed.

"Fuck," I groaned. I wasn't hurt, but the wind had been knocked right out of me and being that I had gone outside to embrace the cold to help me calm down, I wasn't wearing anything except my pajamas and now here I was, lying face down in the snow. Fucking bitch.

But then she was laughing and I must be far gone because that sound made it okay. I would lay in the snow all day if it kept her happy.

Jesus Christ, I'm turning into a fucking girl. Just take my fucking man card now.

I rolled over, causing her to fall into the snow beside me, still laughing.

"Now, that wasn't very nice," I said. She just shrugged.

"But it was fun," she said.

"You think so?"

"Uh, yeah." She seemed shocked that I would even ask. I shook my head and stood up, extending my hand to help her up as well, but as she grasped it an evil smile spread across her face and she jerked me forward hard, causing me to fall back down. I stared at her in shock for a minute before smiling and shaking my head, sending the snow that was now dusting my hair falling down onto her. She laughed.

Playful Rosalie. Yet another side to her. Everytime I encountered a new side to her, I think I fell more in love with her. I pushed that thought from my mind as I rested my head on her shoulder, half-lying on her but still being careful not to crush her under my weight.. It still scared the shit out of me that I was feeling this way.

"Emmett, I'm getting wet," she whined. I smirked.

"I know I'm good, but I'm not even doing anything," I teased. She scoffed.

"I mean, you're warm, and I'm lying under you in the snow," she said.

"I'm not that warm," I assured her.

"Compared to the snow?" she pointed out, running her fingers through my hair. Fuck the snow and the cold. This was contentment if I've ever encountered it.

"Fair enough," I conceded. Not that it changed anything. I had no intention of ending this. I wondered vaguely when my interest in her went from purely sexual to companionship. Not that the sexual charge had disappeared, not in the least. But it didn't seem like the single most important thing anymore. Again, I pushed that thought from my mind.

"Are you going to move, then?" she asked after a moment.

"Probably not," I said, laughing and turning my head to look at her as she rolled her eyes. That same old gesture, but now without the malice. She looked more amused than anything.

"It really is cold," she said quietly. "And I really am getting soaked from lying in the snow."

"Maybe you shouldn't have pushed me into it, hmm?"

"Hindsight," she muttered. I hummed in agreement before sitting up as I felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She stood up and retrieved it, staring at the caller ID before answering. "Jasper?" She was quiet for a moment before staring at me, looking surprised. "Uh... yeah. Hold on." She held the phone out to me. "It's for you."

I took it, wondering what was going on. Maybe he had looked out his window and saw us wrestling and was not at all happy about it. That seemed like a very Jasper-ish reaction.

"Hello?" I asked hesitantly.

"Enjoy wrestling?" he asked. Yup, I called that shit, didn't I? Because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, intuitive mother fucker and master of deduction.

"I'm not sure how to answer that," I said carefully. He let out a short laugh.

"Listen, send Rosalie inside for a minute or something," he said. I was puzzled, but decided to just listen to him. What could it hurt?

"Hey," I said to her. "Why don't you go inside and dry off. I'll be in in a second." She looked confused but shrugged and started trekking back to the house. Jasper started talking again the second the door shut behind her and I wondered if he wasn't watching us. Unnerving.

"I was thinking about you wanting to go after Royce," he said. "And I think I may have a way to do it without people knowing that you have a grudge against him in particular."

"Really?" I asked, suddenly very interested in what he was saying. I would take any chance to punish him.

"He wrestles for Insight School--"

"Insight School?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's this piddly-ass school on the other side of Forks, closer to La Push, now are you going to let me talk or interrupt me?" he expained irritably.

"Sorry," I said.

"Okay. So, as small as the school is, Forks High is only single-A, so we still go up against them in meets. I think you're probably in the same weight class as him, so you'd get your chance to take him down," he said. "Tryouts are Monday, but they're kind of a joke because there's not really enough interest in the team for them to be picky. And there's definitely no one in your weight class."

I had to think about that. As much as I wanted to go after Royce - and I really, reallydid - wrestling wasn't really my thing. I was more of a kickboxer, and rolling around on the floor with other guys in tights didn't really sound appealing to me.

"And you know, if wrestling isn't your thing," Jasper continued as if reading my mind, "you could always get kicked off the team after that match for beating Royce a little too enthusiastically."

I grinned. I was really starting to like Jasper's way of thinking.

"And this is legal?"

"As long as you don't break any bones," he said. "Although I think that'll be quite the challenge, after you get started. Anyway, think about it, and if you decide to do it stick around after school Monday. Now I'll let you go continue to maul my sister."

"I wasn't mauling her."

"Right. Cause guys like you are big on cuddling."

"Fuck you, Jasper."

"Well, that explains why you weren't mauling her," he laughed. "Later, man."

---

AN: For anyone who may be wondering, I'm estimating ten more chapters in this story, so things should be getting to the good parts soon. So don't fret.

We got our first snow of the season in my region last night. Except I have no one to play in the snow with. Although I'm thinking about forcing one of my friends to. It'll be a nice break from Black Friday, which I am driving two hours on slick highways to brave because I've put my Christmas shopping off for way too long. Wish me luck. -.-;;

So now... I'll let you guys tell me what you think? Sound good? :D

/bribes reviewers with the delicious Chinese food that is going to make Black Friday worth it for me.

(For those of you outside of the US, like ApterousAngel, I don't know if you guys have Black Friday because you don't have Thanksgiving, but for the record, it's the day after Thanksgiving when everyone goes fucking batshit crazy trying to get their Christmas shopping done. It's a pure marketing strategy but hell, it's convenient when all of the stores have their sales at the same time. :D)