This is really similar to my other one-shot, That's What Family is For. I just love Edward and Rosalie in a non-romantic setting. I had originally written these as part of one big thing, but then I ran out of ideas after these two. So they're going to be separate stories, and I'm not continuing it. Feel free to do so yourselves, though.

Before I thought this closely into it, I had thought Edward was being a jerk to Rosalie about the whole transformation thing. Then I remembered that he had all this stuff going on at the same time; pressure to find someone, pressure to not kill anyone, and the pressure he put on himself. Now I just love him that much more.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

Gorgeous. I heard Rose's vain thoughts as I walked aimlessly around the house. It was just Rose and I for the afternoon. Bella and Renesmee had gone out for some mother-daughter bonding, of which I was ridiculously jealous. I knew they wanted to have a girl's day out, however. Alice and Jasper had dragged Emmett out shopping, seeing as Jasper wouldn't go without some male support, support that I refused to give him. Rose had managed to avoid the whole thing by 'randomly' hunting. I later found out she had heard Alice and Jasper talking the night before and bolted.

Rose had changed a lot over the past century or so, but one thing never changed. Her vanity. No matter what she went through, any obstacles, experiences, anything at all, she always had her vanity. She had it since the day she was transformed…

Control yourself, I thought frustrated at myself for the umpteenth time. Carlisle and I were out and about, testing my renewed way of life. It was unsettling to say the least. I felt hopeless, like I should just kill myself instead. If one had to work this hard to keep from murdering, shouldn't one be murdered?

Also, the lack of speed and strength unnerved me to no end. I used to use my record-shattering speed to launch myself anywhere I pleased. It was exhilarating, not being able to be caught. I could think what I wanted, go where I wanted. I was free. Now, I was still extremely fast, of course, but it wasn't the same. What they say is true, you don't know what you've got until it's gone.

How are you doing, son? Carlisle asked, glancing apprehensively down at my taught fists.

"It's tolerable," I forced out through my clenched teeth. I would take random hesitant breaths to test myself.

Just at the moment I decided to inhale, a gorgeous woman whisked by, her blond hair flowing out behind her. I really hope the wedding doesn't have to be held indoors! This crazy weather. Rosalie Hale. She smelled like orchids and cherry blossoms, causing venom to pool in my mouth. I stared her down, thinking about how delicious her rich blood would taste as it coated my burning throat…

Edward? Carlisle thought again, startled now as I looked at the woman in pain.

"I'm fine," I sighed, reigning in the monster that was once so free. This was harder than I remembered it was. I knew I shouldn't have rebelled so immaturely. I refused to feel regret, though. Guilty? Extremely. Not regretful, though. I saved many a life due to my selfishness.

Why don't you head home, son. We don't want to push your self-restraint anymore than it wants to be pushed, he advised mentally. I nodded in agreement, intent on escaping this hell.

I thanked Carlisle for his help and was off. The streets were bare due to the late hour. It was also rather cold for April, so most people were in their homes. I full-out sprinted towards our secluded home in the woods where I knew I would be greeted by the welcoming arms of Esme.

Edward's coming. I heard Esme's gleeful thoughts from the edge of the forest. When I returned from my short rebellion, she hugged me to the point where I was wondering if vampires could get their air pipes crushed. She hardly left me out of her sight for months. I finally had to talk to her soothingly to get her off my back. I loved her like a mother, which was awkward in public considering she was supposed to be my sister, and she treated me like her son while we were in private.

Hello, Edward, Esme thought happily. She greeted me with a hug which I returned reluctantly. I wasn't in the mood.

"Good evening, Esme," I replied politely, pulling away and entering the house. It sometimes seemed large and empty with only three people living in it.

Is everything alright? she asked mentally, looking at me in concern.

"Yes, everything's fine." I responded with a smile, pacifying her somewhat.

Where's Carlisle? she fretted, flattening her skirt nervously out of habit.

"He's still in town, he sent me here so I wouldn't push my limits," I grumbled. I hated being the weak link. Even Esme had more control than I did, which wasn't surprising, considering how passionate she was about respecting human life, no matter what.

Esme's thoughts were filled with pity for me, and that was exactly what I didn't want. I didn't want anyone's pity. I had made my bed, so I had to lie in it. Too bad I couldn't sleep. I would be lying in my death-soaked bed for eternity without relief.

How about a quick hunt? she suggested, looking at my dark eyes with worry.

"Alright," I agreed. A hunt might do me well, I mused. Get rid of some of my pent-up frustration.

Esme and I flew through the back doors, steadily sprinting into the forest. It was just a quick hunt, a few deer or elk. I managed to release almost all of my frustration on the poor animals. Esme always felt a little bad taking the only thing they had, but I really didn't care. I considered them a weapon, something I could fight my bloodlust with.

"It's been about an hour, are you ready to return home?" Esme asked, gazing at the setting sun. Her skin glittered faintly in the retreating light. I noticed a faint flush in her cheeks, due to the large amount of blood we had consumed. Her eyes were marginally lighter, taking on a gorgeous shimmery yellow in the sunlight.

"Yes," I sighed, thinking of Carlisle and wondering if he was home yet. Esme shook the snowflakes out of her hair. I hadn't even realized it had started snowing until then. The temperature really didn't bother me anymore.

We ran off back the way we had come, chatting aimlessly. She asked me about my music, knowing how I loved the piano. I asked her how the interior decoration plans were coming, and we talked about kitchens for the rest of the run.

I'm sorry… I heard my father's distressed thoughts as we neared the house and was instantly on alert.

"Come on, something's happened," I warned, wondering what on earth Carlisle could be doing

"Oh, my, let's get a move on," Esme thought as she careened over the land. I followed on her heels, focusing completely on Carlisle's weary thoughts. They were unfocused somewhat, and he was mindlessly remembering to control himself. This was utterly new; Carlisle never had to think about control.

"What?" I hissed when I got his mental pictures. He was sitting next to a beautiful girl. She was covered in bruises. I recognized her mental voice as it cried out in sheer torture. It belonged to the one and only, Rosalie Hale.

What, what? Esme thought worriedly, assuming the worst.

"Carlisle?" I called out as I reached the doorstep.

In here, son, he whispered mentally. Even his mental voice sounded worn out.

I strode into the room, stopping a moment to control my bloodlust a bit. Carlisle had cleaned her up and aired out the room, so it wasn't too bad. The need was marred a bit by my confusion and anger.

Carlisle was kneeling next to the couch where the Hale girl lay writhing and twisting in agony. He held her hand soothingly and apologized anytime she cried out. I recognized the wails, the pleads for death, and was instantly reminded of my transformation. I knew what he had done within the next second.

"What were you thinking, Carlisle? Rosalie Hale?" I spat. It wasn't like I had anything against Rosalie, but she certainly didn't like us very much. I heard in her petty thoughts that she envied us our beauty. She was shallow and vain and purely materialistic.

"I couldn't just let her die," Carlisle said in a voice that was barely audible to me. "It was too much- too horrible, too much waste," he whispered again. It was a little weird knowing he was talking out loud just for Esme's benefit.

As Carlisle spoke, flashes of memories flowed from his head to mine instantly. A broken girl, weeping in an alleyway, snowflakes falling all around. The smell of fresh blood as Carlisle approached her. The vague annoyance radiating from her as Carlisle performed a quick examination. The haste of Carlisle's thoughts as he ran her back to the house. Carlisle's remorse as Rosalie cried out in pain, much like she was doing now.

"I know," I begged, wishing the painful memories away. Being brought up the way I was, I hated any type of disrespect towards women. I delved deep into Rosalie's mind, nearly jumping back out again as I felt the flames of transformation. I knew I needed to do this, though. I fought through the pain and discovered the criminal; Royce King. Her fiancée. Now that I knew who it was, I noticed his faint scent swirling around the room, emanating from Rosalie's torn clothing.

"It was too much a waste," Carlisle continued, wishing away the memories himself. "I couldn't leave her."

"Of course you couldn't," Esme murmured, rubbing Carlisle's shoulder soothingly. He sighed and leaned towards her, keeping a hold on Rosalie's hand.

I was still bitter over this whole thing. She was highly recognizable in society; we would have to move immediately. It wasn't so much the moving as much as the hassle that bothered me. It was just getting used to this arrangement.

"People die all the time," I said coldly. "Don't you think she's just a little recognizable, though? The Kings will have to put up a huge search - not that anyone suspects the fiend," I snarled. Royce King was a sad excuse for a human being; the type of culprit I would have feasted upon in earlier years.

I heard Rosalie's content thoughts as she convulsed in sheer torture. She seemed satisfied that we knew who had done that to her.

This still left us a problem. Everyone knew Rosalie Hale. She was famous throughout all of Rochester. Plus, she probably didn't want to stay in this place any longer, considering what she had just gone through.

"What are we going to do with her?" I asked, not really paying attention to my question. I was thinking about Royce King. He was lucky I wasn't killing humans anymore.

"That's up to her, of course," Carlisle sighed wearily. "She may want to go her own way."

I hadn't thought of that. I had already come to the conclusion that I would have to spend eternity waiting on Miss Hale. Although, considering her horrified thoughts, I guessed she wouldn't want to go her own way.

I ducked into her mind once more, trying to get a gage on her progress. She was so focused on our conversation, she didn't even realize she was nearing the end.

"She's almost done," I murmured, kneeling down beside Carlisle. As much as this girl irked me, I didn't want to give her a worse first impression than I already had.

She cried out one last time, then was silent. The entire house was free of sound, even the thoughts muted. Rosalie sat quietly, not even breathing. Warily, she opened her crimson eyes.

"Hello, Rosalie," Carlisle murmured, watching her warily. He knew how newborns could be.

"Hello," she whispered back, startled at the vanilla-coated sound that brushed her lips.

"Did you hear everything I was telling you during…that?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, but I was too…distracted…to really focus. If you could…?" she trailed off sheepishly, glancing at Esme and I timidly.

"Alright," Carlisle smiled, and began his spiel. I would comment occasionally, earning either a scolding or a smile from Carlisle.

"Thank you," Rosalie muttered at the end, overwhelmed.

"So, you read minds?" she asked me curiously.

"Yes, it's my 'super power,' if you'd like to call it that," I smirked, thinking about how not-super it could be at times.

"Does everyone get a power?" she asked with interest, thinking about what she might be able to do.

"No, but each of us has a characteristic that is exemplified in this new life," Carlisle explained. "Edward is the only one who has an actual power."

"Oh," she said, still thinking about her own power.

"Oh, dear, I almost forgot," Esme said excitedly. She sped up the stairs and was back down within ten seconds. She held a hand mirror behind her back.

"Look at you. You're so beautiful," she whispered, handing her the mirror.

Oh my, Rosalie thought, staring at her beauty. I am the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I almost gagged at the tenacity this girl projected. But my eyes…

"Your eyes will change to the same color as ours in a few months, so long as you stick to the vegetarian diet," I explained somewhat sheepishly. I certainly didn't deserve to be the one telling her about our dietary choice, considering my past choices.

Thankfully, her outlook on this whole 'vampire thing' as she was referring to it brightened somewhat. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle listening to her self-pitying thoughts all day and night for eternity. On the other hand, I would have to deal with her vanity and tenacity for forever. Rebellion didn't seem so bad anymore…

Maybe… Esme thought, glancing back and forth between Rosalie and I. No. No possible chance in hell.

"No, Esme," I growled under my breath. I did not need her playing match-maker for me.

But Edward, she's such a kind girl, and so broken. You could help fix her, at least, she scolded mentally. The only downside to her motherly affection? Her motherly disciplinary skills.

"No, what?" Carlisle asked confusedly. I shook my head, signaling that I certainly didn't want to talk about it anymore.

I wondered if fate was out to get me. The same year I decide to commit to a life of abstinence, another obstacle is thrown in my course. Was there no point in trying if life was just going to spite me? Was there no hope?

No. I didn't truly believe that. I knew there was hope, I just had to try. I would try with everything I had to make Rosalie feel at home. I could be a brother of sorts, if she wanted. I would help her get over her trauma and help to fix her.

Now seemed like a good time to fix. Rosalie was thinking over the tragic events that had recently passed. She waited for her eyes to tear up and brim over, but no tears came. She brushed her hair back and tried to compose herself, but Esme saw right through her.

"Oh, sweetheart, are you all right?" she asked compassionately. I could see that Esme already loved Rosalie like a daughter.

"Yes," Rosalie whispered, wiping under her eyes out of habit. I resisted the urge to smirk at her human-like action and sat next to her in comfort.

"You know, Rosalie, I've always wanted a little sister," I smiled teasingly. As well as soothing Rosalie, I was also trying to squash Esme's plans for our romance. Not going to happen.

"How old are you?" she asked curiously.

"Seventeen," I replied. "You?"

"Nineteen. I'm older," she laughed.

"Oh, well, technically I'm thirty-three. So I can be older," I jibed playfully, breaking the ice.

"Technically, I suppose so," she grinned, thinking about how she never had any siblings she could talk to. They were either anti-social or years younger. "I also think I'm taller, but it's alright," she added with a smirk. Yes, it was alright. Since she wasn't taller than me.

"Just so you know, you can talk to me if you need to. Or not talk, and I'll listen anyways," I chuckled, tapping my temple.

"Thank you," she murmured, smiling at me gratefully. She was thinking about how she never really had a place to go vent, and made a mental note to take advantage of my offer.

I was pretty sure I would regret offering to listen to Rosalie's problems, but I knew it was be worth it when she wasn't so broken. I wanted to be a good big brother, and I wasn't quite sure how to start. It didn't really come naturally since I didn't have any siblings in my human life. I vowed myself then and there to be the best brother I could possibly be for Rosalie.

I am gorgeous, though, she thought happily. Something told me that this would be a thought that would frequent her mind often.

"Edward? Have you seen my favorite jeans?" Rose called, thinking about the destroyed denim jeans she loved wearing.

"No, I think Alice got rid of them…" I called back hesitantly, preparing myself for her wrath.

"What!" she screeched, ripping through her drawers wildly. After about thirty minutes of searching, Rose concluded that they were gone forever.

Oh well… I am gorgeous, though, she thought contentedly. Oh, Rosalie…