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Requiem for My Brother

Summary:
New Moon - Rosalie's POV But what if Edward didn't come home? How would the rest of us go on without the soft tinkling of the piano downstairs? I knew. We wouldn't. I knew the piano in the front room would remain forever untouched if he never came home.


Notes:


1. Requiem for My Brother

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1403   Review this Chapter

Requiem for My Brother By: Natilie Sawada Rosalie’s POV Begins with Alice and Rosalie’s phone call in New Moon. A/n: I usually would never write in Rosalie’s POV. I really, really don’t like her, because she’s shallow, calculating, and conceited. But I decided to step outside my comfort zone and give it a shot. After all, that’s how writers grow. So please RxR on my experiment! Disclaimer: the first two paragraphs are taken from Stephenie Meyer’s “Miscalculations” and I do not own. They are only to start my fic off, and I absolutely take not credit for them. My own writing starts when Rosalie says “I—I didn’t mean it like that, Alice!” ------------ “No. He’s not that stupid. He—he must realize that—” But I couldn’t finish the sentence, because I could see in my head, a vision of my own. A vision of me. An unthinkably version of my life if Emmett somehow ceased to be. I shuddered away from the horror of the idea. No—there was no comparison. Bella was just human. Edward didn’t want her to become immortal, so it wasn’t the same. Edward couldn’t feel the same! “I—I didn’t mean it like that, Alice!” I nearly shrieked, hoping she’d hear the desperate note in my voice. “I just wanted him to come home!” My voice broke on the last word. There was a second of silence on the other end of the phone—I could hear her steady breathing. “It’s a bit late for that, Rose.” Her tone was cold and clipped. “Save your remorse for someone who cares.” “No! Alice, please—” I started, but was cut off by the click as she snapped her phone shut. I heard the dial tone buzz from the speaker. I pulled the silver phone away from my ear, staring blankly at the screen. Call ended. It blinked. Call ended. Edward ended. I dropped it from my hand as if it had burned me. “Emmett!” I screamed, darting through the glass doors out into Tanya’s backyard. The wet grass and mud created by the melting snow of spring squelched beneath my designer heels. “Emmett, help!” I rocketed through the trees, crying out Emmett’s name as I went. “Rose?” The exclamation wasn’t even a mile off. I swerved, nearly hitting a tree. In less than five seconds, I hurled myself into his arms. “Rose, Rose, shh. What’s wrong?” “I…I…I thought he deserved to know!” I sobbed, burying my head into his chest, digging my nails into his back so hard; I ripped clean through his shirt. “What? Who deserved to know what, Rose?” He probed. “Edward,” I choked. His name sent a fresh wave of inconsolable guilt rushing through me, making my fingers clench against Emmett’s back again. “You called him?” Emmett’s voice was shocked. “I thought he should know…I thought…I thought…maybe he could start healing…and I though…” my breathing was erratic, my words coming out jumbled and breathless. Invisible, dry, nonexistent tears leaked from my eyes, streaking down my cheeks. “Shh, shh, Rose, calm down, Take a deep breath.” I did as he told me, and he wrapped his strong arms securely around me. This was the only place I felt truly safe—truly home: in Emmett’s arms. “Now why is it so wrong that you told him?” “Because…” I bit my lip, ignoring the resulting metallic screech. “Because Bella isn’t dead.” “She’s not—” Emmett trailed off, his voice disbelieving. “I’m sorry!” I shrieked. “I didn’t know! I just wanted him to come home, Emmett! I just wanted to be a family again. Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” “Rose, Rose, calm down, shh,” he comforted, his hand reaching up to stroke my hair. His voice would have been drowned out by my incoherent screams and sobs if his lips hadn’t been in my ear. “I just…I just…” I gasped, “I just wanted everything to…” I gulped in another lungful of air, “be normal again! I wanted Edward to come home, and Esme not to be sad, and Carlisle to smile again, and Alice to bounce around like she always does!” “I know, baby, I know. We all miss him. It’s not the same without him.” “Emmet, you don’t understand!” I shrieked, pulling away from him violently. Without thinking, without thought, or reason, I pulled my hand back and slapped him across the face. I stood there, staring, eyes wide, at my lover. His eyes were frozen with shock. Slowly his hand reached up to touch his cheek where my hand had connected with it. “Emmett…” His name barely escaped my lips. “I’m…sorry.” His eyes slowly eased back from their wide open state, and he opened his arms. “Come here, Rose,” he whispered. I swiftly closed the space between him, and broke down in his arms once again, sobbing tearless, broken sobs. “You don’t…” sharp inhale “understand. He’s” sharp inhale “going to” sharp inhale “Italy.” “What?!” Emmett’s voice was sharp with disbelieve. “He thinks Bella’s dead; he’s pulling a Romeo!” I said, fighting to keep my voice from shaking so he could understand me. “No! That idiot!” He shouted, starting to pull away from me towards Tanya’s house. “No!” I shrieked, pulling his face down to mine, kissing him fervently, and sobbing into his lips. “Please,” I whispered when we broke apart, “I need you right now. I’ve done something horrible, Emmett. I won’t lose you while you try to make it right.” He stared into my eyes for a long moment, searching them. “All right,” he agreed, gathering me back against his chest. I sobbed against him, knowing it was my fault if anything happened to Alice, Bella, or Edward. I knew it was my fault we were in this mess. It was entirely my fault. And now there was nothing I could do. I slow piano song swayed through my head. A memory of a happier time filled my mind. Edward sat on the piano bench, his mortal lover beside him, the sun filtering through the window, glinting dimly off his skin. I remembered all the songs he’d written for us—his family. All the songs he’d composed, perfected, and performed for us with love and care. The one for Carlisle, our savior, the notes swelling with a majesty and compassion unrivaled by any other. The song for Jasper, the dark, sorrow-filled one the ended with and uplifted chord. The piece for Alice—a tinkling, bubbly song that danced across the highest keys. The one for Emmett—a jazzy, upbeat, playful tune that made us all want to dance. The song for Esme—the beautiful loving melody that reminded us all of home. The one he’d written for me—the graceful, slow song that was loud but sweet. Every song had been the way he’d seen all of us; the truest for of expression of love for the only family he had. And finally, the incredible, beautiful, moving lullaby he’d written that described his love for the young mortal girl, Bella Swan. And now, because of me…we might never be able to hear his songs ever again. The piano in the entry room may remain untouched for the remnant of eternity…all because of what I’d done. I knew that if something happened to one of us, Edward would retreat to his piano. Edward would grieve over the minor chords and unbearably sweat discords. He would write a requiem of untold beauty and loss. But if Edward didn’t come home? How would the rest of us live? How would we go on without the soft tinkling of the piano downstairs on lazy days? I knew. We wouldn’t. I knew that the piano in the front hall would remain forever untouched if he never came home. I sobbed into my love’s chest, knowing. Because there would be no one to compose a song of loss my beloved brother. There would be no requiem for Edward. ~fin~ Hmm…I rather liked making Rosalie break down beyond any help. That was fun. Please REVIEW and tell me how you liked my little experiment. Thanx!