A/N: After reading this you may be thinking the Charlie interrogation scene is premature and I would agree! So, it's gone. If you read it! Awesome. You'll get to read it here and there in the future. BUT if you didn't catch the NEW update of Chapter 13 please go back and read it, first. The interrogation isn't gone forever but will be put in further down the road.
The story is a time jumper as it is, and as this isn't Charlie's story, he's a blip on my radar so I may just move on. It's a BxE and AxJ fic.. so let's get our girl, eh?
"Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself."
~ George Bernard Shaw
Sometime in 2008
Rose had been spending her nights sitting in her car watching the dark, quiet house for Emmett.
Her hands absentmindedly combed through her long, gold hair and she couldn't help but feel a bit concerned on why she was here.
Was it dangerous? Was it a friend or foe?
Grabbing a lock of her hair, she played with the ends, her fingers detangling the tresses. It was something she did when she was stressed out, and she was feeling the stress ever since she had been given the box of things to go through.
But time was fleeting and she knew that sooner or later she was either going to have to tell him or he was going to find out somehow else.
I mean, what are the odds? She thought to herself.
She had been keeping something from Emmett for weeks and she was afraid that the secret would be found out.
She was afraid of his reaction.
That was the catalyst to why she took the surveillance job as a private investigator, she needed to get away from the police department.
She also needed to gain his trust.
Besides, doing the genealogy was something she really enjoyed and he couldn't really blame her for what she found, right? He did ask her to take care of it, but what if what she found was too upsetting for him? What if it changed the dynamics of their relationship?
She willed herself not to think that way.
She had faith in Emmett.
So, weeks ago, when she typed in her own info and found the intersections, she couldn't help the gasp that escaped her.
The Brandon line didn't disappear or disband as like the paper trail had reported. It was alive and thriving. Rosalie's shock when she saw the truth in black and white showed on her face. Stress lined her eyes as her hands shook when she held the paper.
Then her stomach turned.
How could such things be kept from her?
In a cardboard box, time undetermined
Boxes are not fun. They are dark and damp and dusty and boring.
There may or may not have old food, grease stains and pee on it.
People should really be more hygienic.
Alice was disgruntled.
Her box didn't move.
Nor do don't open without being opened.
How long had it been since she saw light?
Boxes sit stagnant. And no matter how much you try to wiggle within them, they remain defiant sitting where they were placed.
In Alice's case, it was in an attic.
She knew this.
She also knew that being in the dark, by herself, without moving, without light was enough to drive anyone mad, spirit or not.
And she was mad.
How long was she in the box?
Days and nights and nights and days passed endlessly while she sat in her porcelain tomb.
What was there to do, after all?
She couldn't read or dance, talk or walk.
She was horribly depressed that her plan had failed.
That she had trapped herself indefinitely.
So, she wallowed and wallowed as days, months years passed by.
Then one day, she tried to move her box.
She tried and tried and tried and tried to move.
She tried to shake her box. Wiggle it. Shift it.
She concentrated, drawing in the energy she could within in the house and although it was difficult, with enough concentration she was finally able to do it.
The doll moved within the box.
YES! She cried, even though tears didn't fall.
Being a trapped spirit was not the bee's knees, but at least she had hope.
She would move.
Every day, every night, day after day, night after night she worked at moving herself in her little porcelain body.
Porcelain is very heavy for a spirit to manipulate!
Finally, though, Alice felt more movement. She could open her box.
She could see light out the window.
Seasons change as the world changed without her.
She tried not to think about it.
The doll sat on the old rocking chair moving back and forth.
Creaking the floorboards.
She heard the curious voices within the house.
She felt the ebbing of someone that could sense her, but never did she come.
The attic door remained locked.
Then one day, nestled within he box, the attic door opened.
Alice held an unnecessary breath as the box was lifted and carried.
She could see the brightness from the sun seeping into the creases if the box.
Small movements as if she was in a vehicle. She wondered how the ride was so smooth, as she was barely jostled.
She could hear the words of the conversation, and even though it didn't make sense she listened anyway.
"It says Forks, Washington."
"-that was what the date said."
"-time has come-"
"She can hear us."
"She's here, really here?"
Days and nights passed.
Then it was as if she could feel the dank moisture in the air, the musty, fresh scent of forest.
"Hello? Can I help you?"
"Are you Renee Higginbotham?
"We have a package for you."
"Me? But it says Riley Beirs."
"Yeah, uh, that's me."
"So, why are you giving it to me, if it is yours?" The soft female voice asked.
"How do we put this? Uh… I … have a letter for Renee Higginbotham."
"Mm, hmm. Now Renee Swan, a letter?"
A feminine voice laughed and Alice felt the vibrations. She could also feel the niggling feeling that the woman knew what, or who was in the box.
"You're, uh… distant family members had some personal items within the box, with their passing, and it says that this box should go to you."
"Maybe, uh, don't handle the doll."
"What?" A tinkling laugh filled the air.
"Yeah, uh," Riley was not very good at this at all. "The doll needs to stay in her bindings."
"I am sorry; who did you say you both were, exactly?"
There was some mumbling and then there was a transfer of the box from one set of arms to another and with a few soft words of departure she felt herself move upward and into the house.
Then, almost as if it was one of her one thought a voice trickled into her mind from the woman departing.
She couldn't help but smile at her words.
"Be good. See you soon."
Turning the radio on very low, Rosalie was happy that she had already used the restroom and already ate dinner. She was set for the long night ahead of surveillance and after the tedium of watching a dark, empty house for hours the night before; she wasn't looking forward to doing it again.
The passing car reminded her that she didn't want to be seen so she pulled the lever of her seat, moving slowly backward, and hiding behind the door jamb.
Emmett had stressed the importance of her secrecy and she knew that he'd do anything he ever asked of her except walk away from him.
She took a moment to look at Maggie, the girl in the picture she was given. The girl looked scarily similar to her and now she knew why.
Her finger traced the paper with a sigh. What should she do now that she knows the truth?
Taking a deep breath before raising her eyes back onto her target, Rosalie idly wondered how the Brandon's must have felt when they got the news that Mary Alice had gone missing.
Was it a blessing to them?
Did they contently accept the hospital's word on what the hospital said happened to her, or did they put up a fight?
Did they even look for her once they found out that she was missing?
If they were anything like her family, there was a good chance that they did neither.
Most likely, they would be happy to be free of the one person who was an embarrassment to the family.
Oh, the irony.
Rosalie frowned, annoyed that she was thinking of her family again. She knew that she was a disgrace to her family and when her suitcase held everything she was entitled, she said a soft goodbye to her mother.
Her mother never even turned around.
Locking her jaw, her lips lined, Rosalie's mind drifted to the moment she had gotten so angry that she marched into the police station and tried to cite Royce King for rape.
She didn't know pressing charges on one of their golden boy's would cause the uproar it did.
Obviously, not all places were proactive to woman's rights.
"Stop it, Rosalie." She said to herself out loud, trying to shake off horrible memories. Rosalie reminded herself she wasn't that girl anymore.
Their voices rang in her head, anyway.
Her mother: "You ungrateful child! How dare you lie and get him charged with such a disgusting crime?"
Her friend: "You're lucky he even looked in your direction, in the first place."
Her father: "You will drop those charges, young lady and you will apologize for embarrassing his family and ours."
Her mother: "Haven't you done enough?"
Her father: "I would have expected this from someone… else, but not you."
Her father: "What a disappointment you are to our family!"
Her friend: "You couldn't please him the way he needed you to. The way I please him."
Rosalie hoped the voices would someday disappear, just as she did.
Movement from the corner of her eye brought her back current. Rosalie watched as a Quileute male wheeled himself out of his house and into his van. It was one of those vans that had hand controls so he could drive it.
Rosalie smiled before she picked up her phone. She dialed a number and pushed send. On the third ring it picked up to a gruff, sleepy voice.
"We have movement." She said simply.
"Keep back. Don't be seen. The residents seem to know when a car isn't one of theirs.
"No worries. We have the GPS on it, right?"
"Okay. I'm heading back. He just drove the opposite way of my direction. He didn't see me."
There was a rustling of clothing or blankets. Some snaps and slide of a gun being loaded before the telltale sign of someone peeing.
Rosalie just shook her head at this side of Emmett. They were not sexually intimate, but so very intimate in other ways.
Where Rosalie was surrounded by walls, Emmett had none. What you saw is what you got.
"Shake it off, Emmett." She teased as she started her car. "We got to go."
"Getting in the car now; I got the laptop. Where do you want to meet?"
"I will pick you up at the diner in an hour." She sighed after she hung up.
It was going to be a long night.
Emmett and Rosalie sat in the Forks diner sipping their caffeinated drinks and watching a little dot move along a blank screen, which was actually a map. The dot had, so far, made three stops. One was to the local burger place just outside of La Push. The next was the community center of Forks, which was odd, but when Emmett explained that Mrs. Clearwater worked there, Rosalie nodded in understanding. Billy was most likely dropping off some food to the woman.
"He is probably trying to court her," Emmett mused.
But he had yet to make it to his final destination.
Emmett took a big bite of his sandwich. It wasn't what he wanted to eat; he wanted a big juicy burger but he didn't want the heartburn or the lump in his stomach that eating so late always gave him. Instead he chewed the BLT with a lot of sips of his drink.
"Look it stopped." Rose whispered.
Emmett dropped the sandwich before taking a closer look. He moved to type in a few words before coordinates popped up onto the screen.
He then picked up his GSP and typed in the location, silently cursing afterward.
"Good news for us but bad news for the old Chief. He's not too bright."
"Is this water?" Rosalie pointed to the part of the screen tinted in a thick blue line.
"Yep. He seems to have made it back to his friend's old fishing cabin."
Emmett picked up his phone before sending off a text message. Then he turned to the lovely woman before him and smiled.
"Where were we?" He grinned wildly and Rosalie shook her head, but beamed inside.
"We're having dinner." She said shyly.
"We are. Like a date." He laughed at Rosalie's wide eyes. He had finally tricked her into sitting with him, in a restaurant and eating food.
All was date material.
"Okay, one date."
"You're incorrigible!" Rosalie pouted, bemused.
"Mm," Emmett mused, "I prefer persistent."
Thoughts of her past and of her missing baby flowed through her mind, sobering her into reality. "Emmett…."
"Don't- don't over think this. This is just two friends, who think each other are very sexually, intellectually, and physically viable." Cue wiggle of eyebrows.
Rosalie laughed, unable to rebuff his charms before she caught herself as her eyes drifted to her plate, shyly. Emmett hated the way she seemed to hollow out before him, like a light switch that was on, suddenly switched off.
Emmett was making it his life goal to make this empty shell of a woman see herself clearly, to feel valued, and wanted.
"Come back to me, Rosalie." He pleaded and her eyes instantly lifted and smiling when blue eyes met his kind brown.
After a few moments of silent staring Rosalie finally sighed. "First date jitters."
With a nod he pulled up his sandwich and took another bite.
Easy conversations flowed as they ate but soon a text message found Emmett and filled him with worry.
A/N: So, who was Rosalie watching? Billy, obviously. Lol
Rosalie has a few secrets, some you can guess, and some you have to wait it out if you didn't catch the clues.
Did you like Alice in a box? How do we feel about her? How do you feel if you had a doll moving about your attic? Not so bad from APOV, right? And now you know how she got to Charlie's house.
I once read (in a book) that some of the most obnoxious, exuberant people living used to be ghosts in a past life and are Hell bent on being seen and heard after so long without. I think that sounds just like our Alice! Thoughts?