Chapter Text
It hurt. It hurt so badly that all she could do was scream. And scream and scream. Until her vocal cords were rendered shredded ribbons of pathetic flesh that was rapidly losing their humanity.
Somewhere in the clouded fog of the here and now, Bella could hear the sound of her own voice, bouncing off of the walls of whatever damned chamber held her in her anguish. Shrill shrieks that were blood curdling - funny given the blood that flooded her veins was turning into acid - as she twitched and writhed and thrashed, trying to get away from the agony. God she couldn't take this. If this was what immortality felt like, she didn't want it anymore.
Ever.
Before long, she could feel her lips, chapped and bloodstained part and whatever was left of her ability to speak began to beg and plead for someone, anyone to help her, to drag her up and out of the depths of the hell she had somehow found herself in.
She tried to distract herself from the sickening feel of her body attempting to piece itself back together. Her broken jaw mending, a grinding sensation that would have made her vomit if she still had the capability to do so. Her broken ribs snapping into place like the parts of a puzzle, some part of her right leg that had been twisted the wrong way, righting itself with a torturous blaze of heat that made her screams rise in volume.
Please make this stop, Rosalie. Rose, please.
Rosalie. Rosalie had done this. And another part of her, the part that wasn't seizing in pain, that wasn't trying to put back together whatever human parts had been broken, focused solely on the blonde that had put her here on this bed of nails and flame. The one she loved. In her mind, as split as it was, she tried to use as much energy as she could toward holding that vision hostage.
Rosalie Hale in all her vampiric glory. Flaxen haired and amber eyed and alabaster skinned. She had hated her. Hated her with a passion that Bella could not have began to understand when they'd first met, when she had been draped on Edward's arm. Rosalie had made her wary then. Frightened her a little bit. But all of that had changed when Edward and his family had left Forks. Left her.
Rosalie had been the only one to come back. When she had been in a near catatonic state, mourning the loss of the first boy who had so much as glanced her way, who just so happened to have been a vampire who couldn't control his bloodlust. He had been afraid of his attraction to her. And despite the love he had proclaimed for her, it meant nothing when it came to protecting her from the damnation of his curse. So he said.
So he left. Taking every trace of what had basically kept her above water in the sea of change that came with being uprooted from Arizona and moving in with Charlie.
Not that Edward cared how much it had affected her. It had been all about him. Always. That, and his not killing her. Nothing more. The excitement of him being a vampire had quickly waned off when it became clear that he had no intentions of turning her and was more addicted to what rushed in her veins. Then he left. So did the rest of them. And Bella remembered feeling crushed, used, abandoned, damned to returned to a life she hadn't even begun to figure out yet.
Until Rosalie had suddenly been there. The day after Charlie had threatened to send her back to Phoenix because he had been at his wits end. With truancy giving him hell for as many days of school she had missed, recurring nightmares that had him fighting off cardiac arrest in his rush to her room to make sure that she was okay, to her isolation, and downright stony demeanor. She couldn't blame him. It had been unhealthy, it hadn't been right. But Rosalie had been there. Charming and regaling Charlie of a cleverly woven tale of Carlise being relocated to another hospital and the rest of her siblings being sore about having to change schools so late in the year. Effortlessly lying about AP courses and credits being the reason she was able to graduate months earlier and had been sent back to Forks to tie up loose ends.
One said end being Isabella Swan. And Bella remembered being so full of anger that she'd damn near broken her hand slapping at that perfectly marble face. How dare she come back now after the damage had been done?
Your hand is probably broken, it'll need to be treated.
How dare she be so calm, serene even, as Bella's eyes had sprung a leak and her face had screwed up in pain as she cradled her damaged hand. How dare she be the one to offer to fix it? Yet, she had allowed herself to be carted off like a sack of meat, through the woods, back to the glass structure house she thought she would never see again. Let herself be put in a cast without any word of reassurance from the blonde who stoically worked as she put her back to rights.
Kind of like how it was now. With her body burning from the inside out with no relief. Though something new pulsed within her, strengthened by the mere thought of the blonde. Something that throbbed, almost like a phantom heartbeat, that exploded in the center of her chest, making her scream out more.
Rosalie, help me, please. I need you. Where are you? Rose, where are you!"
But no response came and all Bella was left with was pain and memories. Memories of Rosalie working on her truck, clad in these ridiculously sexy black coveralls, her milky cheek splattered with grease, her hair tied back in ponytail. Her amber eyes hard and yet soft at the same time as she tried to glare but something of concern, of care, crept in almost against her will. Bella rememberd the delicate crinkle of Rosalie's nose when she had brought food back to her, a burger and fries with a vanilla milkshake. She remembered the two of them lounging in the huge Cullen house with all its many windows, stray sunlight casting off of her marble skin, creating fractals of iridescent light that dazzled her human eyes. She was enamored by the way that Rosalie <,>owned being a vampire. How she didn't skitter and scamper away from that which she was. Despite her envy of humans. How she boldly drank from metal cups filled with blood as Bella sipped chamomile tea when homework sessions grew late.
Slowly, but surely the two of them developed a thing that had been solidified by one kiss that had been sweet and chaste. And yet had shaken the very foundation Bella's mortal life had clung to. Edward ceased to exist. Fuck him and the rest of Cullens who had dumped her like last week's garbage. All that existed, all that was there was Rosalie. And it wasn't an obsession, she was sure of that. The blonde was too prickly for it to have been. She repelled. Nothing and no one could get close to her unless she allowed it. And it was that slow allowance, that oh so slow realization that they were destined to be so much more than human and vampire, that honestly kept her going.
Rosalie! Rosalie where are you? Help me, come save me, please!"
While that desperate part of her raged, like a toddler lost amongst a sea of strangers crying for their mother, and her body blazed like an inferno, she continued to urge her brain into thought. So much going on at once. Her body, her mind, her emotions. It was all being slipped into its own little shelf. Shame that the pain never ceased and her screams couldn't abate. But interesting how all of that seemed to be able to happen all while her brain replayed flashback after flashback.
Her meeting the wolves, Rosalie confronting the wolves, saving Laurent whose eyes were an odd dirty mix of brown after his shift from a human to an animal diet. The small pack coming to an agreement with Rosalie that she was the only 'cold one' left after Laurent had the blessing to flee to the north to cousin Irina. Her reconciliation with Jake. Her spending more and more time with the wolves after Rosalie flitted back and forth from Forks to Alaska to Volterra to ensure that her family was safe
Maybe she had been a brat about it. Demanding that she be turned after graduation. Rosalie had given her only that stoic stare. It was a wonder that honey could ever be so cold. She wondered not for the first time if the blonde's natural eye color hadn't been a frosty blue. It would surely suit her.
But never mind all that. After her demand to be changed went denied, Bella had done what Rosalie had required of her. She had lived. She went off to college to appease not only Charlie and Renee, but her vampire love. Had taken classes and excelled in them, thank you very much, earned a degree that would mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. But whatever. She had done it. And all the while, her heart had beat only for Rosalie. For the love between them that has somehow blossomed. No matter how much the blonde tried to run away from it. She knew it to be there because that weird new part of her that screamed Rosalie's name grew stronger, and even stronger still as her human tissues succumbed to the venom.
There was a burst of memory, a white light then, and Bella sunk under the weight of the images that flashed in rapid succession behind her mind's eye. Her as a baby, cute and round, her parents heatedly arguing over an electricity bill as her five year old self looked on, her mom packing up and moving away with her at age eleven being towed along. Living in Phoenix for her middle school years and then coming to Forks to live with Charlie, it had all made her feel shuffled along. And then Edward had happened and she had been dazzled and swept under the wave of having someone, anyone like her. She would have rolled her eyes if she could. But then the image of Rosalie took shape again and her chest vibrated. Cutting through the pain and yet managing to supersede its intensity at the same time.
I want Rosalie, that childish part of her, that should have wanted her mother, cried out.
She remembered the crash. Driving on the highway when one rogue driver had changed her fate forever. Crashing into her truck head on which caused several cars to pile up behind her. She remembered the flash of light, shattered glass. Then she had smelled whispers of lavender and vanilla. Even as her nostrils filled with the coppery scent of blood that had filled her lungs where her ribs had punctured them. She had smelled Rosalie. Felt her. Spoken to her as much as her broken jaw would allow. And then. She had felt a hot sting in her neck and a burst of air rushing past, before fire. Fire everywhere.
Where is she? Where's Rosalie? Rosalie, please come, please I can't do this without you.
And then, then blessedly the burning stopped. The cracking stopped. There was only silence left, save for the part that lingered, the part that cried out for the blonde vampire who had made her, whose venom had wrought all this. But it was merely an ache compared to what she had just been through. An annoying part that tapped at her, a dull knock that was nothing compared to the boom of itching, cloying heat that ignited her throat. Like a period cramp compared to a heart attack.
Her eyes fluttered open.
All she could see was red. A blur tinged with red. And then slowly, she began to make out blonde while the annoying crampy part in her chest gave something like a leap. Bella blinked and then blinked again. Sure enough, her vision cleared and her senses opened up. Like a newborn in the true sense of the world, she experienced her existence in a broad spectrum of colors and light and voices and smells and sounds. Instead of bawling with her fists clenched and legs kicking, she jumped up from the brass bed that had been her pyre, sinking into a menacing crouch before three females. All of then blonde of hair but none the one she desperately sought. None of them the one she needed. None of them her.
Bella's lips peeled back from marbleized teeth, tasting something sharp, acidic. Her gaze, so clear it could focus on even the light flakes of dust and down that snowed on them as a result of her hasty departure from the glistening, quilted covered bed that took up majority of space in the room. She could smell the trifecta of scents wafting off of the three females. None of them familiar. None of them safe. None of them hers.
"Calm down little one, I don't want to hurt you," one of them said, stepping forward, with hands outstretched as if to ensnare her quarry.
Bella took that as a threat, charging forward with a sound that seemed to go up and through her entire body. Somewhere she could feel warmth shock up her entire arm where the one who had spoken tried to subdue her. She tossed a fist in the direction of another female who tried to stop her until she found herself face to face with a shorter, strawberry blonde. Wispy curls framed her heart shaped face and almond shaped golden eyes. Some weird kind of power that came off of the female in waves made Bella want to tuck tail and run. But she didn't.
Instead she let out another deep growl.
"Where is Rosalie?"