Thanks for the reviews in the last chapter, you ladies all make me smile with your ideas, I thought about putting in another chapter before the Cullen's but you've all be waiting so patiently… so, it's Cullen time.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

UPGRADE ME

I knew that my kind did not need to breathe, the many occasions I had held my breath in the past attested to that. Oxygen was as inconsequential to my existence as food or water, but I could never remember a time where I could not breath, where I could not physically open my mouth and inhale the cool air around me.

Not a day ago I had been passing through the border from Canada to Washington when I came across the strongest scent I had ever managed to inhale. I has eagerly followed it from Canada right into a little, inconsequential town called Forks, never had a place been so foolishly named and yet this seemed to be where my father lived, his scent too strong for a short passing through. No, his scent was everywhere, in the shops, the hospitals, the woods. I followed the most concentrated smell into thick wooded paths on the outskirts of town, walking until I came across a large clearing, completely shaded by huge old oaks whose branches stretched over in a magnificent canopy The trees sat in two straight lines, as if planted a century ago, leading up to a beautiful three story house. I walked up the immaculate lawn, smiling as the small sparkles of midday sun pushed stubbornly through the tree leaves making pretty patterns and made up the steps with haste, my father's scent leading me right up to the front door. There was no concentrated pattern from that point forward; he had been all over this house and all around the grounds.

I noted how the house fit perfectly within my father's taste, the large all seeing windows, the cream colours which matched that of our London home, the huge dark wooded front door, the very same which I had made dents in so many years before. I felt as though he would have chosen all of these features with only me in mind, it had the hints of a feminine touch like he had thought of me with every lick of paint. The slates of the roof where a dark grey which looked almost black contrasting sharply against the houses neutral coloring beneath, I recognized them with a start. It had a beautiful wrap-around porch which held a bench swing, flower pots and hanging baskets.

I took a few slow steps forwards and gently turned the handle on the door but it didn't budge, I realized with irritation that it was locked. I came to a quick decision, snapping the lock with a quick jolt, knowing that my father would forgive me for breaking locks now so long as he was reunited with me once more. He would probably be coming back sometime soon, from the concentration of his scent it was clear that he was here regularly. I let the first real smile in years spread across my lips and pushed the ancient oak door smoothly open, taking a tentative step forwards, allowing the door to swing gently closed behind me.

I took a step onto the plush cream carpet and kicked off my shoes, grinning at the way I had immediately reverted back into what I used to do in my old home in London. Just the knowledge that this was my father's home converted me back into daughter of Carlisle, not a lost dreamer. Bitterly I remembered how, in the past, the housekeeper would groan and pick them up mumbling that I needed to start looking after my possessions, my father would walk down from the study and kiss me gently on the forehead, giving me a gentle scolding look. He would always ask me how my day had been and roll his eyes at my bag and shoes strewn across the floor by the door, never having the heart to scold me to tears like my friends parents.

I sighed, dropped my bag, and took another few steps into the large room before me. The walls where painted in a neutral cream colour the fluffy carpet to match. I could tell that the now large room had previously been lots of smaller rooms from the strange and complicated shape. It had been converted into one large open plan space with large windows on the face of the wall farthest from where I was standing. Scattered artfully around the room where large comfy couches, mostly centered towards an incredibly large television which was attached to the wall, positioning as if sitting on top of a marble fireplace. I had hardly ever watched television, only ever in passing windows, but the idea did amaze me, moving pictures in a box, pictures of humans all shining from a sheet of glass.

I looked to my left, past a large elegant staircase that led up to the next floor and past a corridor that seemed to lead to a dining room. Through the dining room I could glimpse a huge kitchen and to the left hand corner of the room a large grand piano sat on a slightly raised level, two steps running up to the shiny ivory keys. I walked over and let my fingers swish across the ivory making a light scale, the music floating around the room before echoing into nothingness, it was kept perfectly in tune. It had been so long since I had played but I remembered how I used to be quite adept.

I turned back around, falling lightly onto the black leather piano stool as I looked across the room, noticing that there were somewhat memorable pictures on the walls as if from a dream or a a distant memory. Then it hit me, I had seen some of these pictures before, in my old home.

I smiled, my father still had memories from his old life surrounding him, and maybe he was out there right now, searching for me. I felt excitement building in the pit of my stomach; I would be waiting here to surprise him the very moment he got back. I could see how it would all take place in my mind perfectly. I felt my the breaks in my heart fit together ever so slightly at the thought and stood, deciding to take a look around my father's new base camp. I approached the wide staircase and climbed up to the second level of the house.

The first room I started in was where his scent radiated from most strongly. I walked down the clean hallways and stopped at the second door on the right. The door had no signal as to what was held within, so I pushed it gently open and walked in, surprised to find a study instead of a bedroom.

I could tell this room was my father's from the layout; it was almost identical to the layout of his study in the London house, with the exception of a few additions. I moved further into the room to see the large window which had been previously hidden by the bookcase. There was a large ornate desk which held some open books and a couple of folders, a fancy looking computer at its side, a desk chair in front of it. I walked around the desk and sat down on my father's leather desk chair, looking at the screen before me. I nudged the mouse and the screen lit up, removing the computer from standby, or at least I think it did. It immediately asked for password.

I looked around the room and took in the walls covered in bookshelves packed full of books, one in particular caught my keen eyes. In the corner looking so very worn, much more worn than the last time I had seen it, was my favorite book, the book that I had not been able to find on my visit back home shortly after my change into one of the creature I was today. I had read it hundreds of times. I had never really put it down when it was in my possession, Sir Launfal, the beautiful romance of a damsel in distress being saved by a chivalrous knight who comes to her rescue.

I pulled it out of its slot on the shelf and stared at it in awe, my father must have turned these pages many times for it to become so worn. I placed it softly down on his desk after placing it gently to my lips and turned back to his computer, looking at the keyboard which held tiny squares with letters printed upon them. I pressed one gently, the 'I' key, and a little back dot appeared in a box on the screen, I shrugged and continued to spell my name and then waited but nothing happened.

I moved the mouse gently and the little arrow on the screen moved, I put one to the other in my mind and placed it gently over the 'accept' panel on the monitor, clicking down on the metal pod carefully. To my surprise a small loading sign appeared before pictures of London came up in the background. I beamed; glad he had not forgotten his origins after all this time.

I pushed up from the desk and made out of the door towards the next room on the corridor. I entered a room painted a deep red colour. It had silk matching curtains draped across the windows, bed spreads and a plush cream carpet. I saw a walk in closet full to the brim will women's clothing and shoes scattered untidily across the floor. The room also held an en suite bathroom filled with makeup, candles, perfume and a hamper. I walked back into the bedroom and stopped in my tracks, my eyes glued to the bedside table.

I approached it slowly and picked a silver picture frame up into my hands, staring at the picture within. It was of a beautiful blonde haired woman in a beautiful puffy white wedding dress with a long train, she was kissing a muscle built young man with dark curls and dimples. He was kissing her with just as much passion back, his hands holding her close to his tux clad body. They stood under a blossom tree, the twilight sun descending down into a beautiful tranquil lake.

My father shared his house with others of our kind? Their pale skin and golden eyes gave them away, as well as the scent that I only that moment noticed within the house.

Curious now I continued my search, moving onto the next room in the corridor. It was another bedroom with cream and green coloring. It had a large walk in closet to match the one in the red bedroom and one wall was completely covered in a cork material, magazine cuttings, dress designs and such pinned all over it. This room also had an en suite bathroom and although the room had a clear feminine touch it clearly belonged to both a man and a woman, the aftershave and shirts giving them away.

I didn't stop to look at the pictures in this room but carried on searching the rooms until I ended up back downstairs in the living room, focusing now on pictures that might give my father's current condition away. I walked up to the wall next to the large window and piano, it was covered in pictures rather than the paintings that covered the other walls in the rest of the house, pictures of a family. Almost all of them looked like they had been taken professionally but there were a few snap shots scattered in between, smiles that where too bright to be kept away in a box in some closet. Leaning forwards I realized with a jolt that in the middle a lot of these photos was my father, smiling happily with arms surrounding his companions.

I stood still, feeling my heart constrict when I came to the revelation that to this family, the building I was standing in was home. This was no base to move to and from as he searched for me. This wasn't like my rotting little cottage which held only a molding mattress, this was a family home. It was lived in from the jacket thrown over the edge of one of the couches, the flowers in vases around the room, the electrical goods on standby all the way to the pack of cards scattered across the coffee table as if only placed down for a break.

I looked hastily back to the photo's hanging on the walls and let my eyes wander across the faces mainly my fathers. I was face that I had longed to see for so many years but now, that very face made my heart wrench in two. My eyes lingered on a picture straight in front of me. It was one of the largest sitting in a fancy golden frame.

It was a picture of my father standing in a wedding suit, his arms wrapped around a beautiful hazel haired woman who had her ring hand pressed gently over his heart. His own hand was raised to hers showing their two matching rings. It was then I realized that all my true fears had come true - he had remarried, made a new family, moved on and forgotten about me. I let out a small cry of despair, he had remarried after my mother had died, died with her last breath professing her eternal love. I briefly noted two girls standing behind them on another similar photo of the same event in bridesmaid dresses. I wondered hopelessly whether he could even remember who I was.

I moved my gaze to the next photo along and felt my eyes burn with the tears that could never fall. There stood my father, standing next to the beautiful blonde girl from upstairs. She was wearing her pretty white wedding dress and he was in another black suit, smiling with his arm around her dainty shoulder. It was a clear father and daughter photo. I couldn't control the sobs from wracking my frame after seeing this picture, my father with his replacement daughter. But no, it wasn't even a replacement; it was an upgrade from the looks of things. She was beautiful standing there with his shining angelic blonde hair and golden eyes. It didn't look like he was suffering from my loss; he looked happy, ecstatic even. He had moved on.

I pulled… well, rather ripped the picture of my father and this young beauty off the wall and pulled it weakly from the frame with shaking hands. I threw the beautiful frame to the side hearing the glass shatter and stared at the image intently, my thin frame sobbing from the pain I was feeling. My fingers made small indentations into the perfect picture and I let it fall gently from my fingers, the photo flipping on its way to the ground. I saw elegant script in the bottom right hand corner of the picture and I leant forwards with a snip, picking it up again and reading:

Carlisle and Rosalie on Emmett's and Rosalie's wedding day - father/daughter photo - Summer 2000

He should have been walking me down the aisle not this stranger, this impostor Rosalie, but in the truth of it she made a much prettier bride than I ever would have. She hadn't really done anything wrong either, I couldn't even hate her. My father had moved on and replaced me and there was nothing I could even do about it.

"What the hell?" a gruff voice muttered from just past the large oak door, "Edward, somebody's broken in." He called, the slamming of car doors and the rushing of feet following shortly after the announcement. The front door slammed violently open and I shuffled into the corner, gripping the picture in my hands for dear life, the picture of my father. I closed my eyes as I heard footsteps enter the house and then hostile growls erupting from throats into the air around me, filling around the room with noise all directed towards me.

"Where's Carlisle?" I heard a male voice growl. I pressed myself more forcefully against the wall, hoping that it would simply swallow me whole.

"Putting the car in the garage, he's leaving it and coming now." I heard a velvet voice speak to my right, a hint of frustration lacing his words.

I heard a final set of soft footsteps approach me but I couldn't dare open my eyes, "Oh, look at the poor dear, she's trembling." I heard a woman's soft voice coo sympathetically.

"Don't get so close, Esme. She might be dangerous, maybe even one of the Italians." A new voice said calmly. I still didn't move - I didn't dare in case one of the creatures attacked.

"What the hell, she's ruined my wedding photo!" I heard a woman spit angrily, the heel of her foot slamming sharply against the floor as she boiled.

"Calm down Rosalie," The cooing female voice was now speaking with a calm authority.

I heard the door swing open and then hurried footsteps, "What's wrong?" I let out a sob at his voice, the voice that had comforted my nightmares in the past, looked after me when my mother had died, the voice that had promised never to leave me. It had changed now somehow; it was still the same voice but much smoother, much more musical in tone.

"We seem to have an intruder," A high pitched female voice this time, one that I was sure that I had heard before in the past.

My father stepped further into the room, no doubt hoping for a better look but I kept my head down, my hair hanging around my face. I heard his unnecessary breathing cease as he finally seemed to recognize me. I let the picture I had been clinging to slip from my fingers and opened my eyes just enough to take in seven pairs of feet surrounding me. I watched the picture slide across the floor and stop when it hit the center set of black leather shoes.

The owner swooped down and placed his fingers upon it slowly, he sighed as his eyes took in the photos contents before flicking up to meet my own. They were my father's eyes, the same shapes and emotions shining through but now they were a pure honey gold colour. The eyes I had been searching for, for so long. I slammed my eyes back shut and crunched up into a ball, wrapping my arms around my legs and tucking my face to my knees as I tried to control the sobs wracking my body.

"Are we missing something here?" Rosalie, the girl from the photo's voice hissed, angry that she felt out of the loop of information.

The melodic voice to my right was no longer laced with agitation but pure shock,, "You have a daughter!" The velvet voice exclaimed in surprise.

"Thank you for that Edward." My father sighed as the others in the room voiced their own surprise.

"What?" a rounded unison of voices rang.

I heard slow, soft, careful steps approach me and then a touch that filled a hole within me, my father placed his palm gently on my cheek and I leant into the smooth skin sighing into a sob.

"Isabella," he whispered slowly as I opened my eyes to gaze into his golden ones.

I felt my bottom lip tremble before I let out one exasperated word, "father..." and then I was wrapped in his arms, held against his chest so tightly I could no longer see anything but his neck where a silvery bite mark lay. I buried my head into his chest and cried. He acted as though no time had passed at all, sitting down on the plush carpets and rocking me in his arms, kissing the top of my head as I gripped onto his shirt with my small balled up fists, ready to never let go ever again.

I felt him turn me slightly so I was looking at the ceiling and felt him push my long brown hair from my face gently as he looked down at me, never taking his eyes from my face which he studied reverently. I could gently hear voices in the background but never anything worth actually acknowledging.

Well, that was until I saw a small hand touch my father's shoulder and squeeze it gently. Carlisle didn't even seem to notice until he noticed my crying increase as I thought of my mother. He noticed immediately and a panicked look crossed his eyes, he seemed to realize what I was thinking immediately. He pulled me closer and gently moved the woman's hand off his shoulder with a soft squeeze.

I saw her walk around the two of us and crouch beside me; she smiled and touched my hand. I immediately jerked away and shuffled off of my father lap to the opposite side from this woman.

"Don't touch me." I hissed with much more force than I meant too. Carlisle turned gently and pulled me back into his arms standing whilst pressing me close to his chest. I noticed the soft smile he sent to the hazel haired woman who now sat on the floor alone.

"Calm down now Isabella…" he said.

I shook still sobbing in his arms, "I-I c-c-can't."

AUTHORS NOTE: Here's a question –

Do you want Bella to be quite aggressive and experienced after wandering the world alone for so long, angry even or naive and innocent and maybe a little petty at times. Let me know the Bella you want to see. I know Bella has seemed quite childlike in these chapters but that's because she has felt like an abandoned child. Now all of that anger could come bubbling up once the initial shock is over...

Petit x