Haven't written about these two in a while. I had a request from CarvieCamfia2 to write a little something about them, so here we go! I hope you guys enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the title, which comes from Everything by Michelle Branch.

Rosalie Hale pushed herself.

She forced her legs to keep moving.

She kept her arms pumping at her sides.

Her heartbeat was thundering in her chest and her lungs were screaming for her to slow down so that she could suck in more oxygen and her legs were burning was exertion.

But she didn't listen.

It had to be close to midnight, but Rosalie didn't care.

She couldn't go home.

She didn't feel like going to a friends, because they wouldn't understand.

Everytime she closed her eyes, all she could see was her father screaming at her and her mother sitting in the corner of the room with her usual glass of Rosé, acting as though her husband verbally abusing her daughter was as normal and boring as sitting around the dinner table with her family, eating a meal.

As though this whole thing was okay.

As though it had always been okay.

As though her just sitting by and not doing anything, not helping her daughter, was okay.

She didn't cry then—she hadn't been crying as he had been screaming at her, calling her a whore and telling her that she was embarrassing the whole family with the way she went around, shaking her ass and shoving off her tits in her cheerleading uniform and tossing her pompoms around—and she wouldn't cry now.

Rosalie hadn't cried in a long time.

There wasn't any point.

She had to focus on her goals, on the light at the end of the tunnel, on the fact that she was so close to getting out of her—getting out of this town and away from her parents.

Sweat was gathered at her hairline and she could feel it seeping through her sports bra, and she was glad that she had a key to the changing rooms of the school so that she could shower since she often opened it up for cheerleading practice and for games.

The tip of Rosalie's shoe caught on a stray stone as she cut a corner on the track and she stumbled forward, letting out a yelp.

She attempted to balance herself, but it didn't work, and her legs were wobbly and not particularly supportive, and then she was stumbling forward, onto the grass to the side of the track.

It was damp, from the nights dew and she rolled herself over, so that she was on her back, looking up at the sky, the perfect cloudless night interrupted by the floodlights that were spotted around the track, one of them not far from where Rosalie had collapsed.

She was still catching her breath, her eyes closing intermittently, when a face suddenly appeared over her.

Rosalie was too breathless to scream in surprise, although her body jolted as she blinked up at the face, that was a little hazy from the sweat that was in her eyes.

She dragged her hands over her face, and when a hand was held out, she took it, letting the person tug her into a seated position.

"How long you been out here?" Emmett McCarty asked, his voice quiet.

"A few hours," Rosalie replied.

"Why didn't you come to my place?" Emmett's voice was soft, like he was speaking to a wounded, wild animal and he didn't want to spook her. "I told you, you're always welcome at my place. My aunt wouldn't mind. She knows—" he cut himself off at a sharp look from Rosalie. "She wouldn't mind," he repeated.

"It was already late when...When it happened," Rosalie licked her lips. "I know that you've got that big football game tomorrow. I didn't want to wake you."

"You're more important than football," Emmett replied as he sat down next to her, spreading out his legs, his thigh pressed against hers.

"Not this one," Rosalie gave him a look. "That scout is coming. That's your future."

"You're my future," Emmett said firmly.

Rosalie rolled her eyes, although for the first time this evening, her chest felt a little looser and her breathing came out a little easier.

"And I need to make sure you're okay. So next time, you come to my place, no matter what the time, okay?" Emmett's gaze was steady, and Rosalie couldn't help but nod.

She also felt her eyes flood with tears and her breathing begin to quicken, but she blinked, forcing them not to fall.

She wasn't going to cry over her father and her fucked up home situation.

She had wasted too many tears on him in her life, and she was only eighteen.

Getting her breathing steady again was a different story, though.

The panic attacks were getting better, but they still came.

Mostly they came at night, when she was in her room and it felt as though the walls were closing in on her.

Sometimes they came on when she was with Emmett, even though she felt the most protected in the world when she was with him.

"You're okay," Emmett reached out for her, taking her hand and placing it over his chest, taking deep, exaggerated breaths that made his chest rise and fall, and Rosalie forced herself to fall into the same pattern as him, making her breathing match.

God, she loved him.

He was the only reason that she hadn't completely lost it yet.

"I love you," Rosalie told him, curling her body into his side, tucking her arms around his waist.

"I love you too," Emmett replied, gathering her in close and tight.

And safe.

Let me know what you think x