Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Rosalie was busy. To the outside world, she may look like a bored teenage daughter playing on her phone while grocery shopping with her mom, but that was part of her job. She was supposed to play the slowly maturing adopted daughter of two young parents. Her job entailed rolling eyes, superficial concerns, and “texting” non-stop. Rosalie’s job was to be a good kid, but not a perfect kid. Her talents as a bitch and an actress were needed to give Esme something to talk about with the ladies she sees once a month for her book club. Sure, Esme could talk about her five darling perfect, respectful children, but talking about how her oldest daughter refused to listen to her made her more relatable. More human.
It was a slippery slope, too. A constant push and pull between maintaining a 4.0 GPA and having to perform less than perfect on a quiz every so often. She needed to excel and be polite, but also get pulled into the principal's office twice a year for “harsh language” and “bullying tendencies”. Each of her siblings had their part to play and Rosalie reveled in being the best at playing hers.
Therefore, yes, Rosalie was incredibly busy being the inattentive teen daughter while arguing with a mole of man on Reddit about which American car was the most reliable. Which is why she completely missed her mom veering off the course to the dairy section to creep over to a young girl and a shopping attendant. Rosalie popped her head up and whispered, “what are you doing?” to her mother’s back. She received no reply in return and instead rolled her eyes and made her way over.
“Hi, sorry for interrupting,” Esme flashed her disarming smile at the pair. “I just happened to overhear that you are looking for baby items. Is that right?”
Rosalie came to a stop just behind Esme and peered at the girl. She was roughly Rosalie’s age and, yet, she couldn’t recall having seen her at school before. Vampires have significantly better memories than humans due to the lack of neurological aging. This was a boon for when trying to track human prey by scent or looks and also a detriment. Rosalie may continue to collect years like Chuck E’ Cheese tokens, but her body and mind would never develop past that of a 19 year-old.
“Oh, um,” the girl turned her body fully to face Esme with her arms clutched about her middle. Rosalie noted that the old sweatshirt and jeans she wore swallowed her frame and while her dark brown hair hung down her back it looked frizzy and unbrushed. The girl slipped a bitten down thumbnail between her teeth and murmured, “yeah I’m looking for baby stuff. Things like pacifiers, burping cloths, and-” she cut herself off with a nervous laugh and rubbed brown sleepless eyes before continuing. “Pretty much everything, yeah.”
The girl glanced back at the shopping attendant and he grimaced and tried to rub the heat out of his neck. He puffed out his cheeks in thought but ultimately shook his head. “There’s not a whole lot here other than formula and diapers,” he apologized. With that the girl nodded and he took his leave.
“This town is pretty scarce when it comes to shopping,” Esme piped up. “But there is a Clothing Bank and a consignment shop called Second Chances. Do you know where Bogachiel way is?” Esme fished out a pen and paper from her purse.
“Actually, yeah,” she leaned a little closer to look at what Esme was drawing. Rosalie peaked over her mother’s shoulder herself. It was a simple map on where to find the Clothing Bank.
Esme finished her map and capped her pen before smiling up at the young girl. “Here, the Clothing Bank isn’t far from where Bogachiel and B street intersect,” Esme offered up the slip of paper. The girl grasped the paper between pale slim fingers. It didn’t slip past the two women that she smelled like cigarette smoke and her fingernails were slightly purple.
“Thanks for your help,” the young girl nodded politely and shuffled off to the store exit. Esme waited till the girl had the building before turning to the dairy section. Rosalie followed a half beat later still breathing in the scent of smoke and something else. Something floral, maybe? She shrugged and pulled out her phone again.
“Does she go to school with you?” Esme questioned while hefting gallons of milk into the cart.
Rosalie threw another look over shoulder and replied with a bored sigh, “no, I’ve never seen her before.”
Esme shook her head and with pursed lips she snagged some expensive cuts of meat with no deliberation on what animal they came from. They all reeked of death and old blood anyway. Her trek throughout the store sped up significantly and Rosalie noticed how she no longer pretended to ponder over meal options. In no time, the cart with the dumb squeaky wheel Esme had been pushing around was full past the brim. When turning a corner down another aisle, a precariously placed jar of salsa rolled off a box of rigatoni and Rosalie put on quite the show of miraculously catching it. Instead of placing it back where it was, she resigned herself to carrying it.
“Hey mom, I think we have enough food for a while,” Rosalie pointed out with an arch eyebrow. Esme’s feathers were a bit more than just ruffled. The matriarch was tense in the shoulders and her face flashed between subtle features of sadness and anger. Rosalie noted that her eyes were tired when she smiled at Rosalie and grabbed the salsa from her hands. She was at a loss on what about the encounter with the girl made her mother so out of sorts. For a moment, Rosalie assumed it was the topic of a baby, but Esme had long healed enough to not be so perturbed by a girl shopping for a baby. She even knitted blankets and hats for newborns at the hospital. Had tried to convince Rosalie to take up the needles herself.
“It hurts less with each stitch.”
Rosalie was more than content with her cars. Besides she had no real reason to be so torn up unlike Esme. The woman had lost her child whereas there had never been a child for Rosalie to lose. She returned to her phone and opened Craig’s List to look for a new project. Esme made some small talk with the cashier, but soon they were loading everything into Esme’s Bentley.
“It just stinks!” Esme groaned and slammed the trunk close a little harder than she should have.
Rosalie winced and softly patted the Bentayga. “What does?” she inquired once they had both slipped into the car.
Esme loosened her grip and sighed leaning her head back against the headrest. “She’s so young and she looked so alone,” she trembled. “Children are hard. They’ll break your heart and she’s alone!” Esme fumed and started the car.
“You think she was pregnant?” Rosalie frowned. “She didn’t look pregnant…” she added quietly.
Her mother shook her head and gave her a small smile. “She could be in the earlier stages or simply working to hide it. The poor thing looked so exhausted!” she cried.
Rosalie decided not to reply and instead reached over to hold her hand as a small comfort. She loved and admired how much Esme cared for everyone. It was part of what made her a fantastic head of household alongside Carlisle, whom they all saw as a father figure. Esme was not that much older than the rest of them at the physical age of twenty-six, but her life as a human had made her heaps more mature and experienced than her children. Well, perhaps baring Jasper, who had fought in two dastardly wars.
That was part of why he was Rosalie’s favorite brother. Edward and Emmett are good brothers in their own ways, but they did share the same shame and guilt the Hales did. Both her and Jasper had spent part of their human lives in an unsavory way. Having been born to a wealthy, white family, Rosalie had had a lot of work to do when first unlearning the racism and classism that she had been raised to uphold. She knew Jasper felt the same.
He had not been born into quite so prosperous means, but the times prevented him from being a part of the lowest of the lows. Jasper and his family were in the class just above the black slaves. Being the oldest and the only son in a family with five girls pushed him to join the Confederate ranks and protect his sisters from sinking even lower in class. He regretted not joining his friend John in running away and joining the Union. However, he also knew that his past self would never think of abandoning his sisters.
They had made terrible choices in their lives and in their unlives they did what they could to not make the same choices. Nothing they could do now would erase the past. No matter how many protests they attended, money they donated, and books they read could undo their actions, but they could help others.
They helped each other too.
Every generation, every culture has a name for what happens to the young soldiers who are changed by war. In Jasper’s time, it was known as Soldier’s Heart and by the time Rosalie was turned, the young men who had fought in the first war had begun calling Shell Shock. Upon first understanding what her older brother was suffering from, Rosalie did everything she could to shield him from topics or activities that might cause him further pain. By 1980, she already held a nursing license from when she aided in the war efforts from 1942-1945. However, the 80s was when PTSD, post traumatic stress disorder, was first added to the DMS. So, Rosalie soon found herself sitting in a psych lecture hall trying to learn more about her brother’s affliction and instead she had an emotional bomb dropped on her.
Every generation, every woman has a name for what happens when a man treats a woman as an object only for their own pleasure. Rosalie knew that she wasn’t whole after what happened to her. She had gotten somewhat better over the years with the help and support from her family, but she wasn’t always okay. Some days she was angry, other days she cried without tears, and, while rare, there were days she considered going to the Volturi.
Rosalie had talked with Esme, who had had similar experiences, and together they found women in their community that had survived the same treatment. Jasper would step in when it became too much for her, but eventually she needed him less. She knew it would never go away. Something like that doesn’t just stop affecting a person, but soon it felt less like a festering wound and more like a scar. Rosalie still had to deal with the side effects of having been changed at the moment of her attack. Her brain chemistry had been altered and her vampiric mind was set in stone.
After the lecture, Rosalie had run several miles to the home where Alice and Jasper were living as newlyweds. There, she yelled, cried, talked, and paced for three days straight. Jasper never left her side. When the storm had passed, he smiled and said, “With all the fightin’ you do, Rosalie, you never once thought yourself a soldier?”
Rosalie would rather leave the fighting to someone else. Esme was always ready to throw some hands though.
“You know,” she started hesitantly afraid of the monster she might be releasing. “You could always ask around about her. Small town people are nosey. I’m sure they know who she is.” Rosalie rarely encouraged her more outgoing family members to pry into people’s business. It was bad enough Edward couldn’t control his doing it, but Alice and Esme could be a real couple of gossips with different intentions. She just felt that the less they intruded on others meant the less intrusion they invited into their lives.
Esme perked up in her seat. “Oh, you’re right! Maybe I could help her!” she cheered.
Rosalie smiled through her wince and hoped the young girl was prepared for what was coming her way.
Rosalie wanted to throw her little sister out of the window. A feeling that was seconded, by a flustered Edward who had failed to read another page once their sister began prattling on about the new student coming to Forks. Seriously, she thought, she acts like she hasn’t told us the same thing over and over for an entire month! Even the typically good natured Emmett looked ready to defenestrate the smallest of them. She smirked as she saw him look longingly out the huge glass windows. Rosalie was sure that the only thing stopping him was Esme wrath. Not necessarily about punting their sister out the window, but the window itself. Perks of being an immortal: throwing a human out the window may be a crime, but not your sister.
“I haven’t seen too much of her, but I am sure she will be at school tomorrow,” Alice squealed. Esme smiled, nodded and continued embroidering her latest project.
“I just hope she’s in one of my classes,” she dramatically draped herself over the chair Edward was sitting in. “I’ve already seen that she's in one of your classes. You’ll have to introduce us!” she insisted.
Rosalie nearly burst into uncontrollable laughter when she saw her brother’s dead face and was completely undone when he answered her in a monotone drawl.
A simple “Yes, of course,” and he was back to ignoring her in the sake of Crime and Punishment. This answer did not satisfy their sister and soon she was sitting on the table Rosalie was trying to do her calculus homework at. She managed to ignore Alice’s initial attempts at conversation, but soon the little twerp stole her pencil straight from her hand.
“Care to listen to me now?” she simpered haughtily. Rosalie glared and pulled out a new pencil from her bag.
“Rosalie! Aren’t you at least a little bit excited?” whined Alice.
She slammed her pencil down and sneered, “you have three second to disappear or else I’m setting your closet on fire.”
Alice's eyes grew large and she brought a pale hand up to cover her mouth. “You wouldn’t,” she quaked.
“You know I-”
Esme cut off her daughter’s threat with an excited cry. “Look, girls! Carlisle’s home,” she beamed. Alice darted off drawn away by the scent of fresh meat. It seemed for now her sibling would be spared. Edward seemed to visibly deflate and finally turned a page.
“How was your day dear?” Esme inquired as the two floated into the family room. They were entirely happy together and that made Rosalie happy. She loved seeing her family gay and in love. She looked forward to the day Emmett would meet his match in glee and Edward would have someone to help loosen the stick up his ass. Edward shot her a quick glare over the top of his book.
“Rosalie and I actually talked to someone interesting at the grocery store,” her mother remarked. “A young mother. Do you know of her?” she then added. Rosalie rolled her eyes and abandoned her calculus homework for the time being. It’s not like they slept after all.
“We don’t actually know that she’s pregnant,” Rosalie corrected while collapsing on the couch between Emmett and Jasper. They were watching Water for Elephants for the sake of teasing Edward about how much he resembled the male lead. The likeness was truly uncanny.
Carlisle shrugged off his coat and replied, “I only know of four mothers pregnant right now and we know all of them.” He then shrugged and went to wash his hands and change his clothes.
“Well, there you have it mom, she’s probably just buying some things for someone else,” Rosalie suggested. Esme wasn’t having it though. Her mother-senses were tingling and she knew that couldn’t possibly be the whole story.
“Or,” Esme countered. “She’s not going to her prenatal appointments.”
“A secret pregnancy!” Alice cried.
Emmett piped up, “Just like that one TV show! How scandalous!”
“No, no, no! Stop! This is none of our business!” she exclaimed, but she soon realized it was of no use and slumped further into the couch. Her family was hellbent on embarrassing and attracting attention to them all.
Forks was nice while it lasted , she lamented.
Jasper patted her shoulder without taking his eyes off the screen.
Easy for him to not say…
Later that night in the city of Port Angeles, it’s raining. The streetlights are reflecting off of the wet roads and some of the businesses are shutting their doors. The building she’s leaning against had turned off their lights a half and hour ago. It was a cute little coffee shop named The Black Bird Coffeehouse and she liked how even the alley smelled like brewing coffee. She shrugged further into her leather jacket and took a deep inhale from her cigarette that she was desperately trying to stay dry.
Her red lip gloss maring the butt of the cigarette matched her freshly painted red nails. She could only tell what color it was though when she took out her phone for a half a second to check the time or text another client.
It wasn’t pouring, but she had been out in the rain long enough to be fairly soaked through. Her pleated skirt hung heavy around her thighs, her hair was plastered to her head, and she was sure her mascara was running by now. She looked exactly like his fantasy.
If only he would hurry his ass up.
She took out her phone again and saw that the diaper bag she ordered was scheduled to be delivered on Tuesday. While taking a second to track the package, she received another notification.
I’ll be there in five minutes. Are you ready?
She nibbles on the butt of the cigarette and shoots off a quick reply.
We’ll go over rules when you get here. The name you picked was Mary.
Yes
She didn’t recall asking a question, but knew she was only feeling grumpy because of the cold. Getting caught in the rain is far more enjoyable when it is warm. She took another drag and meditated on nice, warm places to live. Places like California, Virginia…
Mexico. Mexico would be nice.
She sighed and kicked a cup near her foot. Her nose wrinkled when she heard her stocking covered foot squelch in her flat shoes. She was going to need a bath after this.
Soon an all black Honda CR-V rolls up to outside of the coffeehouse. The windows are tinted and she doesn’t bother moving until the man inside the vehicle rolls down his window and calls to her.
“Marie, is that you?”
She crushes her cigarette beneath her toe and strolls out of the alley and up to the man’s car. “Nice to see you, detective,” she smiled. He squirmed a little in his seat and quickly scanned the street. The rain had driven off mostly everyone and the road was quite deserted.
“The agreement was one hour of roleplay and sex,” she continued when he nodded. “You chose the names Mary and Brett and I am to play helpless school girl, yes?” she arched an eyebrow.
“That’s right,” Brett cleared his throat.
“Good,” she replied. “Tonight, we agreed upon oral and vaginal sex, spanking, name calling, and some mild exhibitionism. However, there will be no anal, spitting, choking, or urine or fecal play because they were not discussed upon prior to, understand?”
He nodded and she gave him a beaming smile.
“Now that that's taken care of, let’s have some fun,” she sang.
She circled his car and got into the passenger seat. For a second she reveled in the warmth of the car before turning to her client.
“Thank you so much, sir! I didn’t realize it was supposed to rain and I left my umbrella at home,” she rambled off nervously in a slightly higher tone.
“Don’t worry about it. Is there somewhere I can take you Miss…?” he smiled and let his eyes roam over her.
“Mary and you are?”
“Brett. Where to, Mary?”
She smiled and buckled her seatbelt, “Somewhere dry.”
The car pulled off from the curb and as they rounded the corner the rain stopped.