A/N- This chapter is actually free of abuse, but we do have some self-loathing content. So this is the last chapter I had pre-written, so if there's a bit more of a gap between updates just know that I am checking stats and reviews daily and hanging on your every word! I'm sorry the chapters are so short, but I don't like combining POVs.

This chapter was once again Beta'd by Dollybigmomma who I am eternally grateful for.


Edward

When I got home after school, I went straight to my room and collapsed on my bed. Luckily, since I had driven alone that morning, I didn't have to endure the teasing I was sure would have come from some of my siblings, and the warnings that would have certainly come from the others. Well, the singular other.

It had always just been Emmett, Alice, and me, until our parents had decided to foster Rosalie and Jasper before eventually adopting them. They had come to us after Bella had moved away, but before she had stopped visiting Forks during the summers. Rosalie had been so stubborn and distant back then. When she had first come to us, she had refused to speak to anyone besides Jasper, and even then, only when no one else was around. For months, none of us had even known what she sounded like.

Rosalie had insisted that she and Jasper stay in the same room, despite the fact that my mom had set up separate rooms for them right across the hall from each other. Rose had refused to acknowledge my parents' existence, opting to stare stiffly into the distance when forced to be in their proximity.

She had been upset at my parents. She had believed that they were the ones responsible for taking her from her parents. She had despised them.

It didn't matter to her that her parents had treated her poorly, had hurt her and her brother in ways I still didn't know about, and I suspected I never fully would. The issue was that my parents weren't her parents, as terrible as their parents had been.

Jasper was too curious to listen to her warnings, and eventually, he left their room, joining us for a movie night. I could still remember the look on his face when he had joined us for his first pizza and movie night with the family. His eyes were wide, and we collectively tried to act like it wasn't a big deal that he was joining us. Well, except for Alice. She bounced, scooting sideways and patting the spot next to her, inviting him over.

At the end of the night, he had taken some pizza upstairs for Rosalie. I had later overheard Jasper begging her to stop giving him the silent treatment. If Rose hadn't had Jasper, she might still not be speaking to us to this day, but over time, Jasper had pulled her out of the room, and he finally had gotten her talking to us.

Eventually, when they had been with us for nearly seven months, Rosalie, who had warmed up in her own way, had announced at the dinner table that Esme and Carlisle were her parents now.

There had been no further comments, and it had been clear she was not taking questions. From then on, she referred to them as mom and dad. We, however, were not her siblings. Not really, not at that point. It was as though it was an eternal sleepover, at least in her mind. We were friends, but not siblings.

Alice was just happy to have another girl around, and permanently at that point, especially a girl who enjoyed more of the things she did. Alice and Rosalie painted nails, did their hair, played with makeup, and all those girly things. But whenever we tried to tease them about it, they absolutely ruined whatever primping they had done to roughhouse one of us. It was like Rose had filled for everyone else the empty spot that Bella had left. Another girl for Alice to relate to, a tough, roughhousing buddy for Emmett, and another pseudo child for our parents. But she didn't fill any role for me.

No, when Rosalie decided to join the family, I found myself at odds with her. She was quiet, but not in the way Bella and I had been.

I had always been a bit of an outsider in my family, but at least with Bella, I hadn't been alone. With the addition of Rosalie and Jasper, it felt like Bella and I had both been replaced.

Whenever Bella had come to visit, Rosalie had been polite, but she had refused to be too friendly towards her. Alice always said that Rose was at capacity when it came to having people in her life.

Despite the fact that we didn't get along, she cared about me, intensely, as she did for the rest of us,

When I was thirteen, and I had gotten that horrible email from Bella, Rosalie had been the first to notice the difference in me. The others had assumed it was like all the other times I preferred to be alone, and they had assumed I was reading, when in reality, I was brooding and trying my best to not think.

I was sitting in the music room. I had tried reading, but my eyes refused to read the words on the page; instead, thinking of other words. The words she had sent me. I tried to get the words out of my head, but they wouldn't go. I tried to get all the words out of my head, both good and bad, drowning myself in music. Normally, when I played, all other thoughts drifted away, and I got into an almost trance with music. But not today. Today, the music didn't come to me like it usually did. When I tried to let my fingers wander on the keys, there was only one tune they wanted to play. Her tune. The song I had told her I would name after her. While we had never landed on an official title, its name belonged to her.

A loud mash of notes sounded, as I slammed my hand down on the keys. Something I hadn't done since the early years of lessons, when my teacher had insisted I play what was on the page, and my fingers wouldn't listen. It wasn't fair to the piano, it was my hands that didn't listen to me, the piano only made the sounds I told it to.

It was me who was wrong. Not the piano. Never the piano. Me.

Me, me, me.

The door opened behind me and closed again. I didn't want to turn around. I wouldn't turn around.

I turned around.

Rosalie stood there; her arms crossed in front of her. Her lips were pursed, as they usually were. She'd recently begun wearing makeup regularly, and while she was skilled, it still looked odd on her. "I heard you abusing the piano again. You're not yourself. Tell me what's wrong." She didn't say anything else.

I tried to match her tone. Cool, uncaring. "Nothing is wrong. I just want to be alone. Please, go." I turned away from her, and to my surprise, she left without another word.

I returned to my piano, trying to play sheet music. My fingers stumbled, and the lack of flow meant the words in the email stayed, tumbling around my head, shame pouring into every inch of my body.

"You're a bad person, down to your core..."

"You think I could ever like someone like you…?"

"Pathetic, unlovable, rotten…"

I stopped playing, if only to avoid hitting the piano again. I began pacing, running my hands through my hair to keep them busy, pulling slightly in my frantic mood.

The door opened again, and I looked up. "Not NOW, Rosalie!" I nearly shouted, but she shut the door behind her once again. She didn't cower away from me; instead, she was staring me down as she approached me.

"She's wrong," Rosalie said with the calm rage she had mastered.

I froze, heat rushing to my face, and I felt my entire body grow clammy. I must've heard her wrong.

"Excuse me?" I said it quietly, as the only other option was shouting.

"Isabella Swan is wrong." Her voice was strong, as though she was daring me to disagree or try to stop her.

I looked her up and down now. Her eyes were full of fire, her hip jutted out under her fist. She poked her finger harshly into my chest, as she made me look her in the eyes, and enunciated carefully, "Isabella Swan is wrong. She's evil, she's cruel, and not a thing she wrote was true. Well, except maybe the crush part. "

The world shifted. It was like those scenes in movies where the character stayed the same size, but the world around him grew and grew. Despite the enormity of what she told me, I felt suddenly smaller, vulnerable. "You read my email?" My mouth was dry, and I tried to swallow the lump forming in my throat. I didn't know what exactly I was feeling. Anger for certain. Shame, absolutely. And a slight fear…perhaps. I was working my way into a spiral when she poked me again, harder.

"I read it, and then I deleted it…" she stopped me when I tried to interrupt her, "…and I will not be apologizing. You're not pathetic, you're not a bad person, you're not rotten, or unlovable, or any of the other nasty things that bitch said!"

With each statement, she took a step forward, and I took a step back. "That girl is dead to us, and I refuse to let you think otherwise. She isn't your friend anymore, and she wasn't one when she wrote those lies." On her last step, I found myself pushed against my piano bench, which I sat back on before I fell.

Her eyes were nearly on fire, and there was no kindness in her words. Just cold honesty. Despite her rage, and her nearly attacking me, there was a sort of calm in me.

I didn't know if I entirely believed her, but her fierce look was honest. She really believed I wasn't the embarrassment Bella had made me out to be. Even if Rose was wrong.

It was a good thing it had all happened at thirteen. If it had been a few years later, I might have drowned my grief in the alcohol Emmett had started sneaking in. Though, it was probably the worst time for it to happen, in terms of how much it hurt. At thirteen, it was humiliating to be acknowledged at all, but to have it turned back on me was the worst feeling I had ever had. I still cringed sometimes when I thought of it. And, in my darkest times, I heard the words and couldn't entirely disagree, despite Rosalie's insistent denial of their truth.

Rosalie would likely start her anti-Bella campaign as soon as she could, and if I didn't listen, the best-case scenario would be the silent treatment, which I would gladly take.

Was I really still upset at Bella? Had I been telling the truth when I had told Rose that I didn't want to be friends with her again? Despite Rosalie's work, I still sometimes remembered Bella fondly, untainted by the horrible email she had gone on to write. There was no chance that I would be able to be friends with Bella anyway. She had probably changed. I had probably changed too much. I didn't know if I would ever be able to forgive or forget.

I went about my homework slower than usual, my mind trying to play over every facet of the new Bella I had seen. She was skinny, painfully so. Mom had always told us we shouldn't comment on other people's bodies, and she was right, but I couldn't help it. I was concerned for Bella. She had always been one to have a bit more baby fat when we were kids, even when she had spent her whole summers running through the woods and playing with us. Of course, losing her baby fat was normal, but it didn't seem like that was it. The circles under her eyes also looked way too dark, nearly permanent. Certainly not the work of one or two days of little sleep, like most of the other students.

In Biology, Bella seemed to not even notice I was there. If it hadn't been for my siblings, I would have thought I had made her up. Though, not Bella, but some echo of her former self. I hadn't seen her since we had been so much younger, and occasionally, I had imagined what she would look like now. I had been so, so wrong.

At some point, I had gotten lost in my thoughts for longer than I had realized. I barely noticed it had grown nearly dark out until mom called us to dinner. I went down dutifully, but I remained distracted. There was some conversation that I couldn't make myself follow, until I heard Alice say, "Edward, are you going to tell her, or should I?"

I looked up from my plate, lost. Alice, obviously exasperated with my lack of attention, said, "The -ahem- new student?" while looking at me expectantly. Mom's eyes bounced back and forth between us, trying to be patient, but clearly wanting to be let in on the secret.

Clearing my throat, I said plainly, "Oh, uh, Bella Swan moved back, I guess." I'd tried to sound casual, but my tone did nothing to prevent the full meaning from reaching our mom.

Her face absolutely lit up, and I looked down at my plate again. We had never told her about the email, at least not in enough detail. Rose had sworn Emmett, Alice, and Jasper to secrecy, with an intensity that was sure to have lasting power. She thought they would try to rationalize it, try to keep the friendship alive. Esme had noticed the change in me after the email, but no one had told her why. She thought Bella and I had had a slow break, like we had just casually fallen out of touch. Maybe that was what would have occurred, had that awful email not happened.

Mom clapped her hands together in front of her chest, her eyes beaming. "Oh, that's wonderful! How is she? Will she finish high school here?" She looked at me, clearly a million more questions swimming behind her eyes.

I looked around quickly, hoping one of the others would jump in to save me, and luckily, Alice obliged. "We don't know, really, we haven't spoken to her too much yet, school and all, but I plan on asking her everything tomorrow." Her tone held mischief, and it was a wonder that our mother didn't notice the fury in Rosalie's eyes.

"Well, you'll have to invite her over for dinner sometime!" She sounded so excited, but luckily, she changed topics quickly, sparing me from the emotional turmoil of it all. "How was everyone else's first day back?" The prattle resumed, and I stayed quiet for the rest of the meal.

As soon as I felt it was appropriate, I excused myself, saying something about the makeup work I had to do. However, as soon as I made it to my room, I put on headphones, turning up whatever music I had ready to play. I tried to will myself into forgetting about Bella, just for now, but my brain just wouldn't shut up.

I found myself untold hours later, lying the wrong way on my bed, my legs dangling off the end. It was long after I should have finished my homework, but most of it remained untouched. None of it was due tomorrow, a fact which normally wouldn't stop me from completing it, but I just couldn't focus.

My mind kept playing through different scenarios, trying to imagine how I could talk to Bella. She would remember me, right? I didn't know what I wanted to happen, instead, worrying about every outcome. Even if she did remember me, and we became friends again, that email would always sit in my mind.

I hadn't thought of its words in a while, though it was the mantra of every breakdown I'd had since receiving it. Now that I had seen her again I was reminded repeatedly of the hateful words my best friend had flung at me.

I had the sudden urge to run, the restless energy in me begging to be quelled. It was too late, and too dark to run, and anyway, I knew I didn't have the stamina I once had. My physical energy would wane far before my mental energy would. What I really needed was a drive.

Popping up, I grabbed my keys and left a note in my room in case anyone checked. I didn't want to let anyone know I was leaving, as it would only draw attention to my distress, but being "missing" would be far worse.

Went on a drive. I'm ok. Be home soon.

I moved down the stairs quickly, thankful that everyone seemed to be too consumed with their own lives to notice I was leaving. I pulled out of the garage carefully, not turning on the lights, just in case they hadn't heard the engine. I maneuvered by memory, instinct, and the light of the moon, until I was facing down the driveway. I could already feel my nervous energy being harnessed, fading, as I sped off into the night.