Title: Darling Boy.
Characters/Pairings: Rosalie/Emmett centric with other canon parings.
Short summary: Rosalie Hale comes to terms with sin.
Disclaimer: So not SMeyer.
When the venom had first flowed into her veins she knew only pain.
When the venom began to creep into his veins she knew pure anguish.
Everyone she had ever met called her vain, selfish, snobby. They were merely words, human words that meant nothing to her now, she couldn't help but feel that if her immortality gave her nothing else it placed her above them.
Being selfish had never bothered her until she heard him scream.
Esme begged her to come away, to wait somewhere else, but she couldn't. Rosalie had taken a life, but she had never taken a soul. Regardless of who bit him, it was still her fault. She wanted to bare witness to the deed that would damn her forever.
It had been a week, the first three days were filled with fire, the fourth filled with blood and the fifth filled with a name. iEmmett/i. Her sin had a name, and she would carry it with her always.
Carlisle understood why she asked him, though he would never admit it. Finding a missing piece to your heart can be the most painful thing in the world. Rosalie respected him after he changed Emmett for her; she understood the look of pain that crossed his face everytime Esme saw a child. Her father in death believed himself to be damned, just like his children.
"Hello." His voice was still rough, perhaps it had always been that deep. The venom had erased most of his memory.
This was the first time he'd spoken to her directly, he probably didn't notice, but she did.
Tilting his head to the right, he regarded her strangely. "Why?"
She didn't have to ask what he meant, she had asked Carlisle the same question on the same day so many years ago.
"I'm a monster, darling boy," she whispered, knowing full well he would hear. "Seeing you, smelling you, watching you die, I knew that I wanted to be the last one to ever harm you."
Satisfied, he left the room.
A month passed before he came to her, fresh from hunting, his eyes golden. Her eyes were lost in the woods beyond her window but she knew he was there; he was in her bones.
She thought she was imagining the hand in her hair, the fingers running over her neck until he spoke.
"You're not a monster."
She decided she loved him the day she damned him, his love came later.
"I am a monster." Her statement left no room for him to question.
He crossed the distance and stood before her. "So am I, Angel."
Shoulders shaking in sobs with no tears, she muttered, "You weren't supposed to be."
His hand lifted chin, bring her eyes to his. It was the first time she was ever positive that he touched her, even though it felt like a dream.
"Yes I was."
The smiles she received from her father in death almost made her love him. Rosalie was finding joy in sin, just as he was. Maybe she could love the Cullens one day.
For the first time in her death, she laughed when Emmett became a Cullen.
Later that evening, Esme offered to brush her hair and for the first time, Rosalie didn't refuse.
Love was never proclaimed, just understood, in the beginning. He wanted to know about her life. She was surprised that she told him.
Rosalie spoke of Royce and his friends, how it felt when they ripped her apart, how it felt when Carlisle tried to put her back together.
Only after her story did she come up with a reason for her honesty; ishe loved him enough to tell him why she couldn't touch him./i
He asked her to marry him on a Tuesday. They were walking around the grounds to the new Cullen home. Her parents found it best to move because of Emmett's blood lust.
"Of course I wouldn't ask you to change your name," he teased. She found just as much comfort in his humor as she did in his arms. "Being anything but a Hale is just unthinkable!"
"I once thought a lot of things unthinkable." Emmett once told her he counted her smiles. 47
She found strength in his cold hand, more so then she could ever voice aloud.
"Does this bother you," he asked quietly, free hand motioning to the party before them.
Her eyes found the bride and groom then, arms wrapped around each other, swaying in small circles.
"No, darling boy." She turned her face to him and sighed. "Everyone deserves their sin, let the girl be happy." He beamed at her, a bigger fan of the new Mrs. Cullen than his wife. Placing a chaste kiss on her perfect lips, he rose, making his way toward Jasper.
No one asked Edward to leave when Bella was turned, least of all Rosalie.
Damnation is a private matter.