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Forever Sunrise

"...but people change, and with them their motives changed too. They make mistakes to save the one's they would die for, and in doing that, they went against the volturi. And the Volturi stand for power, not fragility..." Set 20 years after Breaking Dawn.


1. Conflicts of the Heart

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Walking down the hallway to his brother's room Caius plotted, he plotted a way to destroy Carlisle. They were friends once, but people change, and with them their motives changed too. They make mistakes to save the one's they would die for, and in doing that, they went against the volturi. And the Volturi stand for power, not fragility. They were what caused the whole of the vampire race to succumb to rules; when you have power, you really do truly have everything. He walked into hsi brother's room and hid in the shadow's waiting for Aro to come. He had already told Marcus his plan, although it came to no shock to anyone that Marcus had agreed staright away, he believed anything Caius said those days. After their disgraceful fall at the hands of the Cullens, Marcus and hsis loyalties had shifted. As Caius allways said: people change. The door opened and he heard his brother heave a sigh as he walked into the room. To Caius Aro ahd become dead weight, someone they didn't really and truly need. But, as destiny willed it, Aro was the Volturi's true head leader and anythign and everything had to be run past him first. Then again, if Aro refused it wasn't like it would stop Caius from continuing his plan.

"Brother, the time has come to strike while they are still weak...Before they come to their senses and become a family again." Caius' irritated voice spoke out of the shadows of his brother's room. Aro had been away on a hunting trip for a week, to teach the new ones the rules, and had just stepped back into the room, his pitch black cloak splattered here and there with mud. If it was left to Caius, he wouldn't have any new ones, how he despised them so.

"Caius, what are you doing in my room?" Aro asked, dodging his brother's question. No matter now much him and his brothers plus the entire guard were humiliated over twenty years ago over the child, Renessme; he could not bring himself to fully hate Carlisle. Some thought he was a stone beast, with a heart long dead covered in ice. But he couldn't hate his dear friend, not enough to kill him anyway.

"You are fore longing the inevitable, brother. What happened to you? After all these years? You are now...How do you say?...Soft?" Caius stepped out of the shadows his equally pitch black cloak un-stained and less ragged than the black haired man in front of him. He had hit Aro where it hurt with his jibe. That was all it took. A jibe.

"It will take us a while to get the guard and the newborns ready..." Aro tried one last attempt at trying to push fate away. But he of all people knew that you didn't pick your fate. It picked you.

"We have all the time in the world, dear brother," Caius said smiling chillingly, waling over his brother, and clasping his shoulder in what was meant to be an affectionate way as he continued. “After all we are the Volturi and the Cullen’s have been apart for the best part of twenty years. Our only threat shall be annihilated. And we shall reign without inconvenience. It is what we have dreamed of since Carlisle came to us and first gave us the idea of being 'Vegetarians'. We always knew he would bring trouble. Hmmm? Didn't we?"

"Yes. We did, brother." Aro said mechanically, swallowing down any reprimands he had for his brother. When power is thrown at you it is not acceptable to throw it back. You grasp it with both hands and take it for yourself. Knocking down any that come between you and you're power. And with that thought Aro took his brothers hand, shook it thankfully, and strode out of the room. He was in power's grasp; all he had to do now was knock down the ones in his way. Strategies formed in his head as somewhere in the castle a human was tortured, it almost made him smile with glee. The sounds of the tortured brought him comfort, and when plotting to destroy old friends, you take all the comfort you can get.


What do you MEAN he has to go!? It wasn’t his fault!” Alice all but screeched at her bronze-haired brother in anger, defending the one she loved. When one is in love, it doesn’t matter if the love of one’s life is wrong, or has committed a heinous crime, in one’s eyes they’ll always be prefect. No matter what they’ve done. And that’s exactly what Alice Cullen was doing; she didn’t care that the love of her life had somehow slipped up, she didn’t care that someone else’s life had been taken. Looking around the vast and open brightly lit living room she stared at the faces of her so called family. Looking for anything, a flicker, a glimmer in the eye, that maybe, just maybe, they understood why she couldn’t be mad at her love for what he had done. Why she could not stare at him with the cruel unforgiving eyes of a person whose mind was already made up. She whirled around again, once twice, a third time before anything in the room changed. Esme’s face – her mother’s face, for all intensive purposes- had changed. It was no longer the identical anger plastered on her siblings faces; it was now the look of indecision. A glimmer of hope flickered in Alice’s long dead heart.

Esme…? Please? Come on…You know Jazz, he’s you’re son…You love him just like you love the rest of us…” Alice murmured quietly tiptoeing closer to her mother figure. Esme’s head snapped up her eyes filled with indecision and love. She knitted her hand together almost ringing them out, as is they were filled with sweat. Looking just beyond her smallest adoptive daughter she could see the hunched figure of Jasper, her newest son, on the floor. The anger of everyone in the room must have been killing him. And for that she was sorry, she’d always be sorry for that day. Always.

Alice…Sweetie, I know. You don’t know how much I know. But…He’s a danger…Especially to Renessme.” Esme said quietly, halting Alice in her tracks towards. Jasper’s breath hitched, faltered and stopped, as he looked up from where he was hunched on the floor, to look up at the woman he called his mother. She was his last hope. If she wouldn’t take their side then no one would. Alice’s face turned hopeless. She had lost the one person who may have had a chance to save her love. To save them both.

You would pick the person who’s been in this family less than a year, over the one’s you’ve known for 50?” Alice hissed at Esme, who instinctively took a step backwards into the arms of her partner, Carlisle, at the tone of Alice’s voice. “So, what? Now you’re afraid of me too? Typical.” She smiled a harsh smile, but not as if she found anything funny, shaking her head slowly trying to get her head around her thoughts. “I thought better of you all. But if you ‘kick’,” her mouth shaped the quotations in around the trivial word for what they were doing “Jasper out, then I’m going with him. No objections?” She didn’t wait for the objections she new wouldn’t come, what was another loss when you could get rid of them both? “Well then. We’ll be on our way."

Alice took her stunned husband’s hand, and angrily guided them to the door. She yanked it open, almost pulling it off its hinges, making the bolts screech in protest and she walked over the threshold. That was what did it; the finalization. Walking over the threshold made it clear, they weren’t coming back. This wasn’t some awful dream. It was real. That’s what did it for Bella, she set Renessme, into her father’s arms and ran forwards grabbing Alice’s free arm, the one not holding onto the one she loved and would defend with her life.

B-B-But” Bella stuttered for the first time in her life. Or afterlife, which ever was appropriate for the living state she was in now. Except living wasn’t really a term you gave to the undead. “But Alice you can’t….” She struggled for the right word, faltering on many. “Just…Just…Go.” She came up with in a whisper. Alice yanked her arm away from her closest sibling’s below freezing touch, spinning on her heel to face her sister; or former sister depending on how you looked at the situation.

You’d do exactly the same thing for Edward, don’t act like you wouldn’t.” Alice turned herself back towards her husband and carried on walking, ignoring, in vain, the silent cries she hadn’t of thought would come from Rosalie. She stopped just shy of the first porch steps, as Jasper silently, took his hand from hers and kept walking forwards, down the steps and onwards towards the familiar forests, knowing she would follow him wherever he went. Without turning back around to face the family she knew in her heart of hearts she still loves she asked a question; one last question.

How many times have you, Emmett?” Alice’s high soprano voice wafted back into the living area, surprisingly an equally upset Emmett. Why was she asking him such a strange question? Why was she talking to him of all people?

How many times have I what?” He asked back genuinely confused as to what his smallest sibling was asking.

Fallen of the wagon.” Was her only reply, the last thing she had said to them all, before she took to walking again, gliding gracefully down the front porch steps, catching up to Jasper in a matter of seconds. That was the last any of them would see her. That was the last time any of them would be together. Well,’ the- last- time’ meaning until events crashed their separate lives together making them whole once again.

Emmett pulled himself out of his memories, shaking his head to get his bearings right, he looked around as to what he was…Or what time period he was in, may have been a better self question. It had been twenty years. Twenty years since Alice had said those fateful words to him on their porch steps. Twenty years since all of the Cullen’s had left the big house splintering into their own ways; leaving a broken hearted Esme by the front door. Twenty years he himself had seen any of his siblings. And Twenty years of watching his beautiful wife’s face unlit by her stunning smiles. Twenty long years of heartache. Twenty long years.

The train spluttered over a faulty line but regained its smooth composure again, the slight 'swooshing' sound of the train put Emmett into a sort of trance like state. This is where he reverted inside himself and went over the past twenty years trying to make sense of it all. He knew him and Rose's destination, and he knew it wouldn't be a pretty reception, but he prayed to God that it helped, and that the two they were meeting up with would come back with them.


Their carriage booth door swung open and the scent of blood filled their small compartment, Rose didn’t even flinch as the smell hit her nostrils she kept sitting and staring, sitting and staring. It was all she did most of the time, either that or fighting with her husband. Looking up with dead eyes she took in a child, not much older than fifteen she guessed. The girl was pretty even by human standards, but she seemed to do everything in her power to downplay her beauty, wearing a jumper that looked as if a blind woman had knitted it in the dark, and too big glasses sitting on her slender nose, she looked as plain as if she was Bella in the flesh, smart girl downplaying her looks, Rosalie thought bitterly, except I think she’s gone a bit too far with the whole Look-At-Me-I’m-So-Plain-I-Look-Like-Bella-When-She-Was-Human look.

The girl looked at Rosalie, holding her gaze, her heart spluttering as she took in the beautiful woman. Rosalie nodded her head in acknowledgment, but also as a question. What was this girl doing in hers and Emmett’s carriage? What did she want?

Holding up a pink slip of paper the girl opened her mouth to say something, but shut it again as she noticed Emmett staring at her like she was a crazy woman. Her eyes visibly bulged out of her sun kissed skin, as she did a visible double take, stumble backwards out of the still open carriage door. It almost made Rosalie smile to see the human girl’s hilarious antics. Almost.

It was a while before the girl pulled herself together, waiting for her heart to start beating normally again, she pushed open the private booth door and took a large breath. The strange eyes of the couple were planted on her like they smelled something good, but she ignored that notion and put it away in her mind, in a box marked “Tricks of the Light”.

“I…Um, well this is…Well was…Well actually still is, my um, err, carriage, but I didn’t exactly, um, realize it was, uh, occupied…I’ll just…I’ll just ask a stewardess for a new carriage…” She stammered, trailing off into nothing as their eyes bore into her head. There was something off about the two of them, something missing; a spark of some kind. The spark that determined whether you were dead or alive, but not the dead or alive as in whether or not you’re heart in intact; this was the dead or alive as in whether or not you’re heart is beating or if you’re just an empty shell with a motor running inside. The two beautiful people before her were shells, their hearts were the motors. Continuously running, never stopping. The were empty. The girl smiled a little, she was good at reading people, picking them apart like a watch maker may pick apart a broken watch he fully intends to mend.

“Why would you do that?” The woman asked her coldly, her voice devoid of anything that may hint to her actually having a soul to live on. “There’s plenty of space in here.” The blonde haired woman motioned towards the opposite seats in front of her. The train they were on was an old one, and it reminded the girl very much of the movie Anastasia, and the train on there. The carriages consisted of nothing more than two built-to-the-wall seats/couches that faced each other in a middle sized compartment; an almost ceiling to floor window stood opposite the door and above their heads was where you were to put you’re luggage, that was, if you had any.

“Oh-Well I…I don’t want to impose…” The girl trailed off taking a subconscious step backwards as the woman’s strangely golden ors never left her face. In all honest truth, the girl was afraid of them. Part from them seeming like robots without a humanity factor to put to their names, there was something else about them that didn’t quite add up. Maybe it was their too pale skin, or the dark circles under their eyes, or the fact that there seemed to be a feral aspect to them. Whichever point it was-although it could have been all three- she knew not to get on their bad side, or further more, not to know them at all. She knew it was a mean assumption to make and judge people she hadn’t known more than a grand total of 10 minutes, but her conscience was screaming at her to turn and make a run for it while she still could. While she still could; or, in better words, before- her-curiosity-and-need-to-save-the-one's-she-lived-for-got-the-better-of-her. In more situations than one, she had gotten more than a scrape on the knee from her curiosity winning out over her conscience. And that was exactly the reason why she was in the pridicament she was in.

“You wouldn’t impose. This is a public place. Come on, do we look like we bite?” The man spoke for the first time, his voice seemed to transfix her to the spot, and she seemed to faze out for a good couple of seconds before she could focus on his face. He was smiling, but it wasn’t a normal smile, it seemed forced, and full of nothing. The girl looked at his false smile, and noticed that all of his teeth were one, extremely white, and two, a little two pointed to not have been filed with a saw.

YES YOU LOOK LIKE YOU BITE AND THEN SOME! She wanted to scream at him, but mustering all of her courage, she sauntered into the carriage like she owned the place and said politely:

“No of course not, I just thought maybe you were on a…Look never mind, I’m here now, although if I fall asleep, I better not have two puncture marks in my neck.” She joked almost hysterically, laughing a bit too much at her own joke. She mentaly kicked herself, the time for joking was long gone. She was staying, and she intended to know why these people were so sad, for her, and to save the one’s she loved.