Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.
PROMPT: "I'm not mad, just disappointed."
Continuation of 9-1-1.
TW: Death and violence (and therefore mentions of blood)
EDWARD
Silently, I sat on the couch, a deep pain perforating my left temple. I was furious, so angry at Rose and her behaviour. She'd been incredibly disrespectful to Bella and then had the utter nerve to sneak out. It was ballsy, for sure. And if I hadn't been her father… well, I might have told her so.
Sitting beside me on the couch, Bella touched my knee. "Please don't be too angry with her."
I gave her a small smile, wondering how the hell she could be so nice considering the horrible things my daughter had said to her.
"I have every right to be," I muttered. "She was rude, and I won't tolerate that behaviour in my home." I pulled her hand up to my mouth and gently pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist.
"Edward–" Bella began, unable to finish her sentence as the doorbell rang out.
"My delightful daughter has probably forgotten her key," I said, standing up and preparing to ensure my face reflected how I felt inside.
Opening the door, I was shocked to see my mother standing on the porch.
"Mom? What are you doing here?"
She smiled and pushed her way in. "That's such a nice way to greet me, darling. I love you, too."
"I… you know it's always nice to see you… I'm just surprised you're here at nine PM on a Friday night." Closing the door behind her, I blindly followed her, noting that Esme–my eldest daughter–was now at the bottom of the steps, nervously wringing her hands together.
"What's going on?" I immediately asked.
My mom embraced Esme, whispered something to her and then gently pinched her nose as she had done to all my girls since they were little.
"Please don't be mad," Esme said, leaning into her grandmother.
"Esme called to tell me what had happened with Rose." She paused. "And I think we need to have a little talk."
My brow furrowed as I was utterly lost. "Okay?" I gestured for my mom to go into the living room, and she did, kissing Esme's forehead as she left.
I glanced at Esme, unease settling over me at just how anxious she looked before I followed my mom. I felt very much like a toddler about to be scolded.
Bella greeted my mom, throwing her arms around her and hugging her tight. Once again, my mother whispered something, and Bella nodded, sitting down on the couch and motioning for me to do the same.
Our hands found each other on my knee.
"I feel like you're going to tell me I'm in the wrong, but Rose was incredibly rude and disrespectful to Bella, and I won't have it. Her sneaking out to go to a party is just the icing on the cake." I felt like I had to get the first word in.
"I know about Rose being rude, and I certainly don't condone that behaviour. She also shouldn't have snuck out."
At least we agreed on something.
"But you need to take a step back and look at the bigger picture," my mom said calmly, her green eyes peering kindly into mine.
"What bigger picture?"
Bella's fingers squeezed around mine.
"Who is Rose's best friend?" my mom asked–which was not the question I was expecting.
"Uh, Vera."
My mom gave me a soft smile, almost as if she were looking at me with sympathy. "No. Try again."
Staring hard at the woman who had given birth to me, I tried to remember all the names that Rose had ever mentioned to me.
"Kate?" I asked because, as far as I was aware, Vera was her best friend. The only other person she spoke about nearly as much was her cousin.
My mom shook her head. "No."
"Then, I don't know." I could feel myself getting frustrated because I had no idea what the purpose of this conversation was.
"Her best friend was Tanya."
It felt like I had been punched in the stomach.
"Edward, you know how much Rose adored her mother. She was everything to her." I did know that. Rose and Tanya were so close–Rose was a mini version of Tanya, especially when she was younger.
I glanced at the photo on the mantlepiece of my girls when they were all kids. Rose was only about five. Her blonde hair was almost white, and her blue eyes shone so brightly. Esme sat behind her, smiling shyly, her fingers in the process of tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Alice is sitting on Rose's lap, holding a toy cat close to her chest, and Nessie is on the floor, hair wild around her as she gives the camera a toothy grin.
"She took her death the hardest," I said to no one in particular. That was one of the darkest days of my life, having to tell my daughters that their mother had died. It broke my heart. There was no warning, no illness, nothing.
The memory was still clear in my mind. Tanya's brother had knocked on the door, shaking from head to toe. When he told me, I didn't quite believe him. Tanya was healthy. She had spoken to the girls the night before. She had just moved into her new place, and the girls were going to spend their first weekend with her.
Rose hadn't said anything when I told her. She had stared blankly in front of her, closing her eyes and then opening up, as if she were trying to wake up from a dream. Nessie didn't understand. She was only eleven but had never conceived of a day when her mother wasn't around. Alice had shaken her head and put her hands over her ears. Esme had simply placed her head in her lap and cried.
I cried as well. Tanya and I may not have been involved romantically anymore, but she was still the mother of my children. I loved her at one point, and I still respected her. We were working together to create a healthy future for the girls. She was a wonderful mom to them.
"I know that when she died, you and her weren't together, and the girls were adjusting to that. But she was still alive. She was still there. Rose could still call her after a bad day. She could still go and see her. She can't do that anymore."
My nostrils flared, and my eyes fluttered. I hated it. I hated that my daughters had been robbed of their mom for no tangible reason. There was no one to blame, no one for them to take their anger out on. It was natural causes. In some ways, that made it better. In other ways, it didn't.
"Imagine how you would feel if, at fourteen, you lost the one person you loved most in the world and knew you would never see them again."
"It would devastate me," I said honestly. Losing any of my girls–Bella included in that statement would render me catatonic, and that was me dealing with it now as an adult. I didn't know how I'd survive. At Tanya's funeral, her mother had broken down; her sobs had been so loud and so guttural. I knew she'd spent some time on sedatives after her death and was having a lot of therapy sessions–and I wasn't judging her. I completely understood.
"It's only been three years, Edward," my mom said quietly. "Rose–and Esme, Alice, and Nessie have to learn to navigate life without their mom. That can't be easy."
Running my free hand through my hair, I nodded.
"And this isn't me saying that you've not done your best because you have. But there is no cure for grief."
Bella placed her other hand on mine. She had yet to say anything.
"So, not only is your daughter grieving for her best friend and mother, but she's also having to deal with a fairly big change, too."
Glancing up at my mother, I met her eyes again, wondering what she was talking about. Part of me was terrified she would reveal a secret I didn't know about.
"You've moved Bella in."
Both Bella and I stiffened at her words.
"And no, I'm not criticising your relationship." My mom's attention turned to Bella. "I think you are such a wonderful person, and I'm happy you and my son are together." Then back to me. "But, it isn't just the two of you in this relationship. You have four daughters who are impacted by it."
I swallowed.
"Esme, Alice, and Nessie all like Bella, which is fine. Rose isn't her biggest fan." That was the understatement of the century. "But it has nothing to do with Bella. Rose wouldn't like anyone who she saw as replacing her mother."
"I–I'm not trying to replace her," Bella said quietly, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth.
"I know that, sweetheart. But for Rose, it seems like you are. She hasn't known you for that long."
I bristled at my mother's words. "Yes, she has."
"Has she?" my mother countered. "How long has Bella been living here?"
"Six weeks," I said without hesitation. I had counted down the days until she moved in with us.
"And how long have the girls known her?" Something was off in my mom's tone of voice, and I wasn't sure what it was.
"A year," I said confidently.
The look on my mother's face told me I was wrong. "That's how long you've known her, Edward. How long have the girls known her?"
Beside me, Bella sighed and hung her head. "We've messed up."
"What? Why?" I felt like there was some kind of inside secret I wasn't understanding, something I was missing.
"We've known each other for a year, Edward, but the girls have only known me for three months… and I moved in six weeks after meeting them." Bella's voice was quiet, realisation dawning in her eyes.
"Fuck." I'd rushed this. Six weeks? My girls had only known Bella for six weeks before I pushed them together. How had this not come up?
"Do you get it now?" my mom asked.
Shamefully, I nodded. "Rose wasn't ready for Bella to move in." Hell, none of the girls probably were. At that moment, I felt like a failure, like a terrible parent.
"You and Bella might have been ready to take the next step in your relationship, but you forgot that it's not just you two. You have four children to think about."
Bella rested her head on my shoulder. "We were very selfish," she admitted. "We just wanted to spend more time together."
"There's nothing wrong with that," my mom said, her face kind. "You just didn't consider the other people it would affect."
I sighed. "She still shouldn't have spoken to Bella that way."
"Absolutely not," my mother said. "That was terrible of her. But it's not because she's a nasty person. She's grieving and trying to adjust to changes that she has no control over."
Pressing a kiss to Bella's head, I allowed myself a moment to inhale the calming scent of her coconut shampoo.
"Thanks, mom," I said, glancing over to her. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
My mom simply smiled at me.
Seconds later, the doorbell rang again.
"I'll get it!" Esme shouted as she practically jogged down the stairs.
"That'll probably be Rose. She'll have forgotten her keys," I said, pulling my head from Bella's and looking at my mom.
"Dad." Esme's voice pulled my attention to the doorway. She was white as a sheet, fear colouring her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Instantly, I stood. "What's wrong?"
Behind her, two police officers entered, both of them with solemn looks on their faces.
"We're looking for Edward Hale."
"That's me." I tried to read them to determine what they wanted, but their faces were blank. It couldn't be good, though. Police officers don't knock on your door late at night because they've come to congratulate you on something.
"It's about your daughter, Rosalie Hale."
ROSE
Giving the police officer sitting next to me a nervous smile, I tried to push down the anxiety that was rolling through me in waves. Goosebumps prickled across my flesh, and I couldn't keep still. My knee bounced, and I'd picked at the skin around my nails.
I could still feel the blood on my hands, the eerily warm and sticky substance coating me. There had been so much of it. The gravel of the road had dug into my knees as the 911 operator reeled off questions.
Is the patient breathing?
Is the patient conscious?
How long has be been like this?
Can you feel his pulse?
I don't remember answering them. I don't even remember the sirens blaring towards us. I don't remember the lights. All I remember is looking into his face, his eyes on mine as his blood coated us both. It scared me how much there was. How much that should have been inside his body was everywhere but there–over me, him, the floor, our clothes. I could smell it. The metallic scent crawled into my skull. Despite that, Emmett never let go of my hand. He never stopped looking at me. When the EMTs arrived, one had tried to move me to the side to make space so they could work, but Emmett wouldn't relinquish his grasp on me. Not even when we were in the ambulance, the sirens screaming as we travelled towards the hospital, did he let go.
It was only when they had wheeled him through the doors to the hospital that his grip faltered. But he called out to me. "Rosie," he said, voice weak, eyes open but not seeing. That had broken my heart. Tears had formed in my eyes, and a sob wrenched itself from my mouth. A kind nurse had sat me down with a cup of water.
Then the police were there, asking me what I knew. One of them had a harsh face, a slightly crooked nose, and a mouth that was turned down. He had looked me up and down before saying they'd need my clothes as evidence. The kind nurse returned with a pair of thin scrubs and some crocs that were far too big but were better than being barefoot.
Silently, I watched as my bloodied dress, tights, and shoes were placed in a bag, red staining the sides.
They told me, "We've spoken to your father. He'll be here soon."
I nodded and was led to a small private room. In the middle was a small coffee table, a couch on one side, and two chairs on the other. I sat down in one of the chairs, waiting.
The door burst open and I jumped to my feet, relief flooding me when my father appeared before me. Without a second of hesitation, his arms were around me, pulling me close to his chest as he cried.
"Daddy." It came out as a broken sob as I cried, unable to stop the tears from falling.
"I'm here," he soothed. "I'm right here, my darling."
The term of endearment just made me cry harder.
I don't know how long he held me, his grasp tight as I cried into his chest. It was a lot to process. It was the familiar scent of washing powder and cologne that soothed me, as well as hearing his heart beat so steadily against my ear. When I pulled back, I could feel snot dripping down my nose and my eyelids swelling from all the crying.
Without a word, he handed me a handkerchief from his pocket and then kissed my forehead.
"Better?" he asked, green eyes searching my face.
I nodded and offered him a small, watery smile.
"What happens now, then?" My dad asked as he wrapped an arm around me and faced the police officer.
"At this moment, we only need a witness statement from Rosalie. We have her clothes as evidence, and they'll be sent to our lab." At those words, my father's arm tightened around my waist.
"Okay," my dad breathed. "Can we do that here, or…?"
"We can do it here. I'll need to get my colleague to come in and take some notes while we talk."
My father nodded as the police officer left the room.
Turning to my father, I knew I had to apologise. "I'm really sorry, dad."
To my surprise, my father shook his head. "We'll deal with all that afterwards; now, let's focus on this." His hand stroked my cheek, and I closed my eyes.
"Okay," I whispered just before the door opened, and the two police officers returned.
For the next hour, I answered their questions.
What did I see?
Who was there?
What alerted me to the altercation?
Did I know the perpetrators?
Had I been drinking?
The officer making notes read over what he had written and then looked at his co-worker. "That's everything," he announced, flipping the notebook cover over and offering me a small smile.
My father gave the officers our contact details and thanked them as he led me towards the hospital entrance. His arm remained around my shoulder the entire time, and I leaned into him. He'd given me his hoodie, and I pulled it tighter, needing all the comfort I could get.
"You were very brave," my dad said, glancing down at me. "Very brave but also very silly."
I knew what he meant. I had been silly–stupid even. "I couldn't just leave him, dad," I reasoned.
"I know. But anything could have happened to you." My father stopped walking and held my shoulders in his hands. "Losing you is not negotiable, Rose. When those police officers came to the door…" His breath hitched, and his eyes filled with tears. "Please don't ever do that to me again. I'm too old."
I threw myself into his chest, tears falling from my very sore eyes. They felt all gritty and tight. I'd done a fair amount of crying tonight.
"Excuse me?" a timid voice called, causing me to raise my head and look toward the noise.
A thicker-set woman with a red face and greying brown hair was looking at us. In her left hand, she held a very damp tissue.
"You're her, aren't you?" Her voice was shaky, her eyes rimmed with tears. "You're the one who saved my son–Emmett?"
"I–I don't think I saved him," I said awkwardly, pulling away from my dad to face Emmett's mother. "I did what anyone else would have done."
The woman shook her head. "No. You saved him." Then, without any warning, I was wrapped up in her arms, swallowed by her embrace as she sobbed.
"Thank you. Thank you." Her whole body shook as she hugged me, her tears wetting the shoulder of my dad's hoodie.
I didn't know what to say, so I hugged her back, squeezing her before she pulled away.
"I'm sorry," she said, using the damp tissue to dab at her eyes and nose. "We could have lost him tonight, and…" Just like my dad had done earlier, she trailed off, clearly unwilling to conceive a world where her son wasn't in it.
"It's okay," I told her, pulling at the sleeves of the hoodie.
"I want your number," she told me. "I want to keep you updated on Emmett, if that's okay?"
"Um, yeah." I reeled off my number before she turned to my father.
"You should be very proud of her." Her voice waivered again as she looked at me.
"I am," my dad said, his own voice full of emotion.
We parted ways after that, with Emmett's mother promising to let me know how he was doing.
The car ride was silent, and I stared at the dark streets out the window. When we got home, I was surprised to see my grandmother there and even more surprised to see Bella looking relieved to see me.
After greeting my nanna, I went over to Bella. "I'm really sorry," I told her. "I was rude to you, and you didn't deserve that."
She gave me a small smile. "It's okay." She looked behind me at my father standing in the doorway. "Your father and I have realised that we've probably taken things too quickly for you, so please accept our apologies."
"You don't have to–"
My dad cut me off. "We do. We're sorry, Rose. But that doesn't excuse your behaviour."
"I know," I sighed because I was in the wrong. I knew I was. Bella wasn't really that bad.
"I need you to know I'm not mad; I'm disappointed."
My eyes welled with tears because I fucking hated disappointing people–especially my dad.
"I'm disappointed you didn't think you could talk to me about how you felt. That Bella moving in was too soon for you."
I pulled on the hoodie's drawstring. I didn't know how he knew that exactly. I hadn't told anyone. "You were really happy," I choked out as I began to cry again.
Standing in front of me, my dad gently raised my chin so I was looking at him. "You and your sisters are the most important people in my life. You come before everyone–including Bella."
I felt my face contort.
"It's okay, Rose," Bella said. "I know that, and I wouldn't expect it to be any other way." Her voice was not angry or upset. Looking at her, I saw that her face was a picture of calm.
I apologised to my dad again. "I'm sorry." I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him close.
"I know," he told me, his cheek resting against my head.
After a few seconds, he pulled away from me, and I looked up at him.
"I am going to have to punish you for sneaking out and being rude."
"I figured," I told him. "Even though I did save someone's life?" I tacked on the end, knowing I was pushing it.
"That's my dilemma," my dad said with a twinkle in his eyes. "The parenting books don't tell you how to deal with this type of situation. You disobeyed me, but in doing so, you may have prevented a man from dying."
"I've never been your easiest daughter," I said, a smile pulling at the corners of my lips.
"I certainly wouldn't expect you to start now," my dad responded as Bella and my nanna laughed.
This one ended up a lot longer than I expected, but I like how it turned out.
Big hugs, Lu.