Storyid: 5048557
FanFiction.net
Name: Beautiful Beat
Author: americnxidiot
Chapter 1 to 13



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Chapter: 1


AN: This goes out to Jess and Elle for having the conversation with me that
sparked this idea, and then encouraging it. I'll say more at the end.


Disclaimer: I don’t own it.


There wasn’t supposed to be this much blood.

This much blood and pain.

I feel as if I am being split in two, pelvis torn in half while my abdomen ripples and
clenches in agony. My fingers grip and claw at the headboard of the bed, trying
desperately to divert the pain, anything to make this less intense. It isn’t working.

Only Carlisle and Edward are still at my bedside, most of the Cullens having fled from the
sick, rusty scent permeating the air.

Carlisle is here because he can be.

Edward is here because he can’t leave.

Rosalie lingers in the corner. Her anticipation is palpable and thicker than my own, but
she’s been a great source of comfort. I want her here.

The room blurs then, and I hear an agonized scream, my scream, cloud around me. My

noises override the constant beep of the heart monitor hooked up to my left.

Edward moans, “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry,” over and over. I close my eyes, his
smooth voice calming me, and I yearn for sleep. The nothingness is endlessly appealing.

“No, no!” My shallow breath catches. My shoulders shake. I pry my lids open and see
black eyes set into a pale, sharp face. “Just focus on me, Bella. Keep looking at me.”

I try to cry that it hurts, but my throat has been struck too by the pain. The words slip
out jumbled and staccato.

“I know, sweetheart.” He comforts me helplessly, smooth marble seeking my clammy
palm.

“She’s almost ready, Edward. I need you down here.”

I moan again in protest when his hand falls from mine, but his baby demands his
attention. Our baby wants to escape.

Coldness taps my ankle. My weak eyes drift below where Carlisle is looking at me,
focused and determined. “Bella, I need you to try to push.”

I can’t, I scream in my head. It hurts, I cry.

But I push, I shriek, I try. I have to try.

Because we’ve given up too much at this point to lose. She needs to breathe and smile.
She needs to live.

I feel tearing and a sharp burst of agony.

“You’re almost there, love. You’re doing so well.” Edward rubs my thigh and the coolness
soothes me. That is, until the pressure returns in a blind fury.

“I love you,” I sob out as the blackness creeps into my vision, spots dotting along the
white ceiling when my head falls against the pillow.

“I love you too, but I need you to stay focused. Focus on me.” His voice is shaking and
frantic, and I need to see him, but I can’t find the strength to lift my head.

One more powerful clench, and I am still.

A new cry shakes the air, high and loud, and a breathless laugh bubbles out of my lips.

My baby girl is here. My baby girl can cry.

The darkness creeps upon me faster now, and my limbs are useless and weak.

“R-r…” I try to claim my daughter but my mouth won’t form the words.

Edward understands. He steps forward slightly, raising the sticky bundle up as I tilt my
chin down with the last bit of strength I have left. Red screaming face, dark hair matted to
her tiny head. Small fists open and close tightly in time with her cries.

“She… is she…” I groan as the pain shakes my body, and try to remember the end of my
sentence. I can’t.

His face twists in a way I do not understand, and some emotion grips his voice when he
whispers, “She’s human.”

I shudder once more and collapse into the bed, and my eyes blur and cross as I fight to
keep them open. The beep of the monitor stutters and speeds.

“Edward, she’s bleeding out!”

I barely notice when Renesmee is passed off to Rosalie, or when Edward and Carlisle
move my legs and arms around and press gauze against my body.

“It’s not stopping,” the velvet voice cries.

“You have to do it.”

“I…” and then I can’t hear anymore. The darkness is taking me quickly but my baby is
alive. Unconsciousness approaches without a fight.

The last thing I feel before I succumb to black are cool fingers at my neck and then a
quick, incisive stab into my frail skin.

There is pain.

Then fire.

Then nothing.


AN: So yeah... it's different from my other stories. And AU. And will only be 9 real
chapters. Please bear with me. I promise you I know where I'm going with this. Let

me know if you have any interest, because honestly? I wouldn't have posted this
some pushing from Christina/tby789. It's not exactly a Nessie fic, despite how
things may seem. And I may fall flat on my face with this, but hell. I'm gonna try.

"Beautiful Beat" is by Nada Surf. Cause the spawn has a heartbeat. Yeah, I'm not
clever.


It's finals week, and I'm moving back to the US on the 19th, but I'll update as soon
as I can.


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Chapter: 2


AN: You guys have way too much faith in me. Thank you. The “AU” premise
behind this is something that I couldn’t quite wrap my head around in BD. It will
be explained, but remember it’s AU. I’m asking for a little suspension of “reality”.
Also this chapter shows how each one will be formatted: a flashback and a present
day section.


Following in the steps of my friend Pastiche Pen, here’s what I’m reading/loving
right now: “Just One of the Guys” by SorceressCirce and “Poughkeepsie” by
MrsTheKing. Both are in favorites. And at first glance "Poughkeepsie" will seem
crack fic, but it's not. Definitely give it a chance.


A million thanks to ElleCC for betaing.

Disclaimer: I don’t own it.


Month One

My stomach retched for the third time in less than an hour, the eggs and bacon I’d had for
breakfast reappearing in front of me. Lovely.

“Bella, please let me have Carlisle take a look at you.”

I groaned, hiding my face behind my arm as I leaned on the toilet seat. Beads of sweat
prickled at my forehead and I’m sure I was paler than usual. “Please go away, I don’t
want you to see me. I’m gross.”

A deep chuckle sparked goose bumps on the back of my neck, and a cool hand spread out
on my back as Edward crouched beside me, rubbing circles into my skin. My breath
hitched at the contact even in my sickly state, and I cursed myself for the effect he always
had on me. It had only gotten worse since the honeymoon. Now that he was doing
something about it…

“You are not gross. And this is the third day in a row you’ve vomited.” My forehead
scrunched at the word, and I swept a hand up to pull the flusher. Once the sickening scent
had disappeared down the drain, my nausea faded and I sat back on my heels for a
moment. Edward squeezed my shoulders, gently massaging the tense tissue. “Maybe you
have a stomach virus.”

I relaxed into his touch for a moment before rising to my feet to brush my teeth. “I think
I’m just eating too many eggs.” Flipping off the cap, I squeezed the green paste onto my
brush. “I’ll meet you in our room in a minute okay?”

I didn’t miss the way his face lit up when I said our room. My lips rose into an
unconscious smile at the sight. Edward nodded his head with a grin and then ducked out
of the room, letting me clean up in private.

To be honest, I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I’d joked with Edward that my
illness was caused by his insistence that I have a birthday party when I turned nineteen in
a few days. But I wasn’t too worried. I got sick all the time, and it would probably only get
worse once we moved to New Hampshire in a few weeks, thanks to my allergies.

I smiled to myself. Now that I was resigned to attend at least one semester at Dartmouth, I
couldn’t help but be excited. My husband, a word that no longer made me flinch, and I
would be alone. Really alone, in an apartment where the other tenants could not hear
every movement of bedsprings or breathy moan. Where I could spend every night in our
bed, huddled under warm sheets beside Edward’s cool body. We would work on
homework and talk and make love as we pleased. And of course we would miss our
family, but we would be back when it was time for my change. We were newlyweds. No one
would berate us for wanting some time by ourselves.

I finished brushing my teeth, spitting into the sink and rinsing my mouth once more, so
happy that the nausea seemed to have passed for now. Turning on a weary foot, I headed
out the door and down the hall into our room. I could only smile again at the sight before

me.

“I like this.”

Edward opened an eye, letting his head tilt to the right. His lean body was sprawled out
above the comforter, pale arms folded underneath his mess of hair. He almost looked
human when he was this relaxed. Almost.

“And what exactly do you like about ‘this’?” he asked, his lips turning up at the corner as
he watched me.

“Just the idea of you, laying on the bed waiting for me. It’s… sexy.” Despite our new
intimacy, the harmless word still flushed my cheeks as soon as it slipped from my lips. I
tilted my chin down but kept my eyes on his as I approached. When I was within a footstep
of the bed, cold hands gripped my waist and pulled me onto his chest quicker than I could
anticipate.

His eyes, a friendly topaz, smiled at me as he trailed a finger down my cheek. “Well, I
think this is sexy.” We both laughed when his words only made me blush more.

I grudgingly broke eye contact to rest my cheek against his shoulder. The soft cotton felt
heavenly against my somewhat clammy skin. “So I was thinking about Dartmouth
again.”

A cool kiss pressed against the top of my head. I could feel his smile. “Oh really? What
about?”

“Well, this is my first time in college so I’m going to major in English, but what about
you? Is there anything you haven’t studied already?”

He chuckled beneath me, and I rolled my eyes, already anticipating his answer. “Well, it
has been a while since I’ve brushed up on my English literature.”

“Of course.” I shifted my legs to get more comfortable, and was unsurprised at the
warmth that filled me at our closer contact, despite his cold body. A devious grin crept
onto my lips. “You know, Edward, I was thinking about something else too.” I shifted my
face forward, drawn to the flawless skin of his neck like a magnet, and pressed a quick
kiss behind his ear.

He groaned softly and ran his fingers through my tangled hair. “Could it have something
to do with having our own apartment away from the family?”

I kissed his neck again. “And you said you couldn’t read my mind.”

Turning his head to face me, he held my eyes seriously for a moment and then smirked
suggestively. His hand moved to cup my neck, and his mouth pushed against mine once.
Twice. “Are you sure you’re feeling up to this?” Three times.

I rolled my eyes at him and prepared to tease him for his predictability. But it was a little
hard to complain about his hyper concern for me when he punctuated each word with
another kiss. So I just showed him instead.

As soon as I pressed my lips soundly to his, Edward pulled me closer, my legs falling open
on either side of his waist. Even through the thick denim of our jeans, I could feel the
stirrings of his arousal and I smiled against his mouth. I might never understand why he
chose me, to love and desire me, but I wasn’t about to complain. Our lips parted slightly,
overlapping and sucking gently. He was still too afraid to kiss beyond this, but I
understood. His large hands slipped up under the fabric of my t-shirt, sliding over my
stomach and back and leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

With a gentle push, Edward had me on my back, lifting my shirt over my head in the
process. His mouth reattached below my ear and kissed down my neck, pausing
occasionally to teasingly nip the skin through the protective barrier of his lips. All I could
do was whimper and breathe his name.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” he asked when he got to my chest, lips still grazing
over the sensitive skin. “Your heartbeat sounds a little strange.”

Was he being funny? He knew by now that my heart went crazy around him. I could barely
talk, anyway, my mind unable to focus on anything other than the feel of his firm body over
mine. “Yes, just… god, please keep going.”

His breathy chuckle made me gasp, and I threaded my fingers through his soft hair. I
couldn’t hold him there, but I could give him the hint. Edward’s hands left my waist only
long enough to rip his shirt over his head, his mouth and fingers continuing down my
torso before the shirt even hit the floor. I couldn’t stifle my moan when his icy tongue
traced a determined path down the line of my bra, between my breasts, and along the skin
of my stomach.

And then he stiffened.

His mouth closed in an instant, his jaw tense as he hovered over me. He wasn’t moving.

“Edward?”

Still he said nothing. But in a motion too deliberate to be misconstrued, Edward turned his

head and pressed his ear to my abdomen. His hands left my body to grip at the sheets,
forcing holes into the fabric. A shaky breath betrayed his still face, and all at once, the
missed signals nearly knocked me out.

The nausea. The cravings I’d had since Isle Esme. The look of blank horror on my
husband’s face.

Could it– was it possible I was… pregnant?

In a quiet voice that was more breath than whisper, he confirmed my suspicions. “A
heartbeat.”

Edward shot up to his feet at the word, moving at an inhuman pace as he yanked on his
shirt and threw mine at the bed. I slipped it over my head and could only watch in shock
as he paced the room with no direction. I’d never seen him like this. That made it all the
more real.

And as I sat, knees curled beneath me and mouth agape as the impossibility of this
moment, Edward yelled for the only person who could help us, his voice more frantic than
I’d ever heard.

“Carlisle!”


Present

I begin to wonder if I’ll ever live beyond these flames. They lick at me from beneath my
skin, charring my flesh until I’m sure there’s nothing left to burn. Still it continues. My
arching back fights against my cramping stomach. My fingers grasp at empty space and I
greedily suck in air. None of it works. Nothing snuffs the blaze.

The pain dulls all my other senses. I can’t focus enough to see. I can’t smell anything. All
I am is fire and twitching limbs.

A firm grip takes hold of my hand, and I can almost hear some silky tenor muttering into
my ear. I know I’m likely imagining it, but I still take comfort in the sound. I try to scoot
closer. I have no control over my muscles.

The smooth voice is joined by a soprano and though I try for the millionth time to
succumb, to fall to the darkness, but it won’t let me. I hallucinate again, almost convinced
that the flames are finally ebbing. My feet and hands are suddenly numb and immune
from the burn.

I wonder if I am dying.

I wonder if I am already dead.

Words come through the haze and they’re more difficult to ignore. “Soon”… “please”…
“love.” The grip on my hand turns into fingers, pushing between my own. The fire
continues to fade from my limbs but intensifies in my chest. My heart lurches, trying to
escape through the spaces between my ribs. For the first time in an eternity, the sound of
my broken gasp reaches my ears.

The foreign hand squeezes mine more tightly as the blaze isolates. With every violent
throb of my heart, I stiffen and pant. The tenor is growing familiar. Another soft palm
finds my cheek, and gives me a faint distraction from the searing pain.

I can almost hear the strangled pounding against my sternum, louder, louder. Then, with
one more panicked breath… it is still.

The all-consuming burning stops in an instant, and I am aware of several things at once.

Everything seems heightened somehow. The bed beneath me squeaks with every tiny
movement, and soft cotton fibers give the sheets an uneven texture I’ never noticed
before. The hem of my dress brushes against my kneecaps, barely fluttering as air
circulates around the room. I can feel the defined ridges of fingertips on the top of my
hand, ghosting across my skin like spider webs. Yet something feels strange. Something
important is missing.

“You need to breathe, Bella.”

My mind is blurred, the memories almost dreamlike in their ambiguity, but I could never
forget the striking face that greets me when I open my eyes. Edward. My husband. I am
momentarily mesmerized by the different shades of red that make up his hair, watching in
awe when he moves his head. The strands fall independently over his forehead, and for
the first time I can truly see the faint freckles that speckle over his cheeks and the bridge
of his nose. I absorb new details like a woman crazed, a smile pulling at the corner of my
mouth when I realize how quickly the information registers in my mind. This beautiful
creature is mine. I want to spend hours learning the contours of his body with my new
eyes. I want to explore the intensity of these new sensations with him by my side.

But all of that disappears when I draw my first breath.

My throat rages as the scent-filled air trickles down to my lungs. The sensation is
overwhelming, hundreds of distinguishable odors bombarding my senses. There is dust,
grass, pollen, and something foreign that makes my muscles tense and my throat burn.

This burn is different from the devouring pain that consumed my body only moments
ago. Instead, saliva flows in my mouth, a futile attempt to soothe the discomfort.

Venom some faint memory tells me. Not saliva. Venom. And if this sweet taste in my
mouth is venom, then that means… I turn my head to Edward and choke out the words,
too uncomfortable to be surprised at my tinkling voice. I don’t sound like myself.

“Am I?”

“Yes. The change is complete, and you need to hunt.” Edward’s eyes are tight when he
answers. His voice trembles slightly, and I can’t understand why. But before I can worry
about it, he reaches for my hand and tugs gently to help me out of bed.

Edward stumbles slightly when I pull on his arm, and I smile when I remember that I am
no longer breakable. I am his equal. I am stronger that him. He smiles briefly at me, but
pulls me onto the balcony before I can speak. His fingers are clenched tightly around my
hand and the subtle distress creeps back onto his features. A faded line appears in a crease
on his forehead. His uneasy grin falters for just a moment, and if I were human, I
probably would have missed it.

The struggle to remember my human life is frustrating, and I’m almost surprised at how
quickly the details are fading. But I do know that Edward should be happy. We spent
nearly two years suffering because I was a human and he was a vampire. Walls had been
constructed between us for my own safety, and though we were happy, we could never
be as close as we both desperately needed.

Edward and I dressed in formal attire. He frowns at me and asks, “Is that what you
dream about? Being a monster?”

The memory is isolated, but I remember this being a common argument. Is that why he is
upset? Does he feel guilty that I am like him?

Squeezing my hand once, he releases me and takes a step forward. My eyes follow him as
he lifts onto his toes and lithely jumps over the balcony onto the ground below. He
quickly glances up at me, his eyes beckoning me in their silence. Nerves flutter to life in
my stomach as my residual human instincts warn me of the danger, but I push them
away. Gulping once, I close my eyes and jump. The fall takes only seconds. The ground
appears, firm and painless beneath my feet, and I can’t help but smile at the simple
success, opening my eyes to smile at my husband.

He smiles weakly in return, lifting a hand to scratch his hair. “It’s going to take some time
to get used to that. Everything in me tells me to catch you when you jump from two
stories.” All of his movements are uneasy, even as he tries to joke around.

“What’s wrong, Edward?” I take a step toward him, running my hand along his bicep and
trying not to be distracted by the impressive definition of his muscle. I expect him to
deny any problem, to take me into his arms with a smooth smile, to shield me from pain
as he always had. But he doesn’t.

Edward presses his hand against my waist, staring for a moment at the way the fabric
bunches under his fingertips. Then he slides them up my side to trace along my shoulder
and collarbone. I nearly shiver from the contact. But I can tell almost immediately that he
isn’t moving with desire. There is nothing sexual in his touch. He finally comes to a stop
above my breasts, the back of his hand resting against my still chest. With a sad sigh, he
mutters, “You need to hunt first.”

Cold fear fills me, my posture stiffening at his non-answer. His hand lingers over my
sternum while his expression gives away his emotions. Longing, sadness, grief? Does he
miss my heartbeat? Does he miss my humanity that much?”

“Edward, you’re scaring me.” I resist the urge to cry and keep my voice steady. “Do
you… are you regretting–”

“No! No, Bella. That’s not it at all.” His arms encircle my waist and he pulls me toward
him. I burrow my face into his chest, the strength of his scent making me more aware of
my scratching throat. That seductive call is stronger out here, the symphony of the forest
stirring a strange instinct inside of me. Sensing my mood, he draws us forward and we
walk together into the woods. He caresses my side as we move, silently showing me how
much he loves me. After several quiet minutes he whispers, “It’s not you I’m worried
about. It’s Renesmee.”

Despite my vampire senses, I nearly trip over my feet as the memories rush back.

A wedding… Isle Esme… pregnant… miracle…confusion… pain and blood… a crying
child… a human… my baby girl…

“Oh my god, Renesmee.” My dead heart aches when I whisper my baby’s name. Her
screaming red face is fuzzy in my mind, as is the horrific birth that nearly killed me. How
could I possibly have forgotten her?

An impossibly strong urge to see her, to hold and rock her, distracts me from the
throbbing burn in my throat. “I need to see her, Edward. I need her.” I am desperate with
the desire to go to her, all thoughts of feeding gone. My breath comes in quick pants.
Every muscle tenses, preparing to run to my daughter.

Edward’s tightened grip on my waist brings my focus back to him. He knows I need his

strength right now.

His face carefully blank, he lifts a hand to cup my jaw. A gentle finger traces down my
neck and he leans forward to press a quick kiss against my lips. Electricity crackles
between us at the simple gesture, but he pulls away before I can react. He is maintaining
control for the both of us, though his darkened eyes give away his excitement.

“I know, love. But first, let’s hunt.”


AN: Leave a review, and let me know what you think :)

Oh, and Elle started up a thread of Twilighted under AU. Come say hi.



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Chapter: 3


AN: Apologies and explanations at the end. Elle, thank you endlessly for staying
with me even as I bombard you with document after document.

Oh and go read "Medication" by mojopen (in my favorites). Only four chapters so
far and I'm captivated by schizophrenic Jasper and his younger brother Edward.

Disclaimer: Not mine.


Month Two

“So I’m sure you know this already, but I talked to Carlisle while you were hunting.”

“I know.” Edward’s voice was calm and lethargic, like a man waiting on death row. I sat
on our leather sofa, arms wrapped protectively around my knees, peering uncomfortably
at his stiff form on the bed.

“Um, and he told me he might have a feasible theory for this… to explain this.”

“Yes," he muttered. "I know.”

His apathy was hurtful. But I knew he was stressed, so I shook off the mild sting and
continued. “Yeah, well do you think it makes sense? I mean, I don’t know a lot about
genetics or supernatural creatures.” Edward scoffed and I glared at him. He didn’t notice.
“But it kind of fits, you know? The venom may have made you stronger and… altered,
certainly altered. But your body is human, so maybe your, uh, chromosomes stayed
human as well. Kind of like Superman,” I joked, hoping to lighten his mood.

“Probably.”

I continued to glower at him for a minute or two. He had been acting cold and distant
since our first talk with Carlisle a month ago, and I couldn’t understand why. We certainly
had never planned anything like this, and I knew he had been blindsided by that quick and
quiet heartbeat. But didn’t he realize that I was scared, too? The entire idea was terrifying.
It’d be a lot easier to handle this with him by my side.

I took a deep breath to calm myself down. Edward had a notorious penchant for
overreaction. I knew this. As his wife, I had hoped that if I stayed calm, he would open up
to me. It wasn’t working.

Rising from my curled position on the couch, I padded across the carpet and stood beside
the bed. My hand drifted to his head; I raked my fingers through his hair and watched his
vacant expression, silently pleading with him to come back to me. In a last ditch effort, I
crouched down beside the bed and whispered, “Edward?” keeping my voice as loving as
possible.

“What,” he responded monotonously.

"Talk to me. Things are so strained between us and I hate it. We need to pull it together
for this baby."

A scoff from deep in his throat was the closest thing I'd heard to real emotion in weeks.


"Do you really think it's going to be born?" he asked derisively and glanced over at me
with a painful stare before shifting his attention back to the ceiling, empty and cruel.


My hand fell from his head in a flash. I was angry. I was hurt. I couldn't believe what I
was hearing. Standing up swiftly and ignoring the mild dizziness, I walked over to the
closet and grabbed a sweatshirt. I yanked it over my head and huffed. “I can’t deal with
this right now, Edward. I’ll be in the kitchen.” He didn’t stop me.

I stomped my feet like a child as I descended the stairs, needing to physically vent the
frustration that was burning in my chest. I took intentionally heavy steps through the
corridor to the kitchen. Grabbing a small saucepan and some cooking spray, I turned on
the gas stove. I wanted a damn egg.

I pulled open the heavy refrigerator door, got what I needed, and closed the door to see
Rosalie’s perfect face very close to mine. I nearly dropped my food.

“Jesus, you scared me!”

She stared unapologetically, twirling a gemmed bracelet around her wrist. Interactions
with the other Cullens had been strained since the discovery of my… pregnancy. I could
barely think the word without panic making my heart race. Edward was exceptionally on
edge, snapping at anyone who even thought something he didn’t want to hear, and the
siblings just didn’t know what to say to me. So Rosalie, of all people, approaching me in
the kitchen was surprising. We barely got along before all of this.

With a sigh, I turned off the stove and set the egg on the counter. “What’s up, Rosalie?”

Rosalie continued to stare quietly at me, but she wasn’t sporting her usual arrogant pout.
Her posture was confident but strangely subdued. Her hand rested on her arm, twisting
the fabric almost nervously. I had never seen her like this. It was unsettling. She dropped
one hand to her hip, and lowered her gaze to my sweatshirt. Then, moving incredibly
slowly as not to startle me, she stepped toward me and brushed her fingertips over my flat
stomach. Both of our breaths hitched.

“It’s amazing,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly at the end. Her eyes nearly
glassed over and she pressed her hand more firmly to my abdomen. “Its little heart is
buzzing like crazy.”

I didn’t know what to do. Part of me was very uncomfortable with this close proximity to a
woman who had shown nothing but bored, forced acceptance. of me since I’d known her.
But another part, some instinct I thought I had buried a long time ago, relished this
affection. Her second hand joined her first, and a soft smile brightened her face. For the
first time, this growing life inside of me didn’t feel like a burden. It wasn’t a nightmare or
some cruel twist of fate. I wasn’t part of a pair that impossibly and dangerously conceived.
I was a woman pregnant with her husband’s child. Rosalie laughed breathily and I
couldn’t help but return her smile.

“Bella, I know we haven’t gotten along. Not really. But I want to be a part of this if you’ll
let me.” Her eyes were pleading, her desperation for a child more staggering than I had
ever seen it. I could never deny her this. Plus, her positive support was exactly what I

needed. I couldn’t handle nine months of constant angst.

Unsure of what her reaction would be, I awkwardly placed my hand over hers on my
stomach. “I would love that.”

She grinned again, beautiful and bright. “This really is a miracle, Bella.”

“Maybe you should tell that to Edward.” My mood fell slightly; my brooding husband was
probably still lying on our bed. I leaned against the counter with a sigh, stepping back
from her slightly.

Rosalie rolled her eyes. “I’ve known Edward for a long time, Bella. He freaks out about
the slightest thing, and to be fair, this is pretty huge. Plus, you know how protective he is of
you. I’m sure he’s just feeling guilty and scared as hell right now. He’ll come around
sooner or later. I mean, he’s an idiot, but he’ll come around.”

“It’s just really hard to do with this without him.”

She didn’t speak again, but reclaimed my hand, grasping my fingers gently.

Our almost sisterly moment was broken by a quiet voice. “She’s right, you know.”

My eyes quickly shifted to the doorway where Edward stood, arms folded over his chest.
Rosalie squeezed my hand one more time and turned on her heel, glaring at Edward as
she left the room. He kept his eyes on mine though he was certainly hearing her, and I
didn't want to know the rude thoughts she was sending him at that moment.

He took slow steps until he was close enough to touch me. Lifting a hand, he ghosted his
palm over my hair and then cupped my cheek. “I’m fucking terrified, Bella.”

I gulped. Edward rarely swore, so I couldn’t doubt his seriousness. His eyes betrayed the
fear his stone face hid so well. “I am terrified this thing is going to destroy you and I
can't... I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

Before I could even take another breath, I was in his arms. I almost sobbed with relief as
he held me close again, inhaling sharp gulps of my scent and muttering the same words
repeatedly into my hair. My fingers combed through the back of his head, memorizing the
way his hair parted beneath my hand. I should have resented him, pushed him away as he
had me, but I couldn't. That would make me too sad. But that wasn't the only reason and I
knew it. For the first time in two years, my needs shifted, focusing outside of Edward and
myself.

My conversation with Rosalie had sparked something inside me. This thing inside my
stomach wasn't a thing, no matter how much Edward wished it so. It was our child. A
child that should never have been. A child that very well could kill me. We didn't know
what we were dealing with here. But still... it was our child.

And I didn't know what I would do if Edward made me choose.

"You're not going to lose me. I'm not going anywhere, Edward. I promise."

I could sense even then that he didn't believe me.


Present

My teeth unlatch from the rapidly cooling carcass beneath me and I lick my lips, cleaning
and savoring any blood I may have missed. I take a moment to identify the course tan hair
and broken antlers as belonging to a rather large buck. I'd stopped paying attention once
the frenzy took over.

I hear Edward lightly moving over the broken twigs and leaves of the forest floor behind
me, but I continue to examine the remains of my kills. Limbs lay against the earth skewed
and twisted unnaturally. Flesh is shredded where my fingers had dug into ribs. I am
momentarily stunned by the destruction caused by my hand and feel remorse prick
through me for each time I begged Edward to hold me harder while I was still human. I
hadn't even realized I was doing this, too consumed by the warm rush of semi-sweet
blood.

The scratching in my throat is sated but not satisfied, and I run a dirty palm over my
neck. The sensation is still foreign to me. The air still smells of syncopated heartbeats,
small animals in fight or flight as they sense our dangerous presence. The perpetual
burning flares for an instant, but for now I am fine. I can almost feel the new blood
pushing its way through my dead veins. Pure energy spreading to every hardened cell.

His scent is closer and clouds around me like a blanket. I glance down at my tattered
outfit and wonder if he is dishelved like I am. I doubt it. My phantom heart flutters at the
thought of working his hair and clothing into passionate disarray. I decide to make good
on that idea as soon as I can, but right now I just want to see him.

Lifting onto my toes, I pirouette toward Edward more gracefully than I ever have before.
As I predicted, he is relatively unscathed, but I smile at two small leaves caught in his
tangled hair. I walk toward him like a ballerina. I walk toward him like Alice. The thought
makes me giggle and I finally appreciate how much my voice has changed, softer, more
pleasant. I haven't seen myself in a mirror yet but the physical differences are already

clear. My entire body is lithe but firm, breasts higher and rounder, hips swaggering with
just a bit more inherent femininity. Even something simple, like the contraction beneath
my cheeks when the thin muscles pull my lips into a smile is smoother, easier.

I can never be as breathtaking as Edward or as devastating in my beauty as Rosalie, but I
am worthy to stand beside them now. The scales that divide us are a feather more even.

I take my time sauntering over to Edward's side until my bare toes bump his sneakers.
With a sigh, I lightly flutter his hair to release the trapped leaves. He smiles at my
obvious affection and allows my hand to drift down his arm until ours connected, palm to
palm. The cool rigidity of his skin is pliable under my touch and I am again reminded of
our near equality. It is exhilarating but as much as I'd like to explore this, and him
thoroughly, the high brought on by the blood is fading. My now compartmental mind
organizes my thoughts and responsibilities at a rapid speed, attempting to arrange them in
order of importance. Despite every permutation, one thing holds priority over the rest.

"Renesmee," and her name is like breathing even as Edward's serenity withers away. I try
to stay relaxed when I speak again. "What's wrong? Why do you tense when I speak her
name?"

His hand moves around with mine, our fingers fidgeting in tandem to keep us calm. "Bella,
what do you remember about the birth, about her?" Edward's eyes stare into mine, a
molten blend of ambers and gold with a faint ring of black around the irises, and I focus on
that image as I try to remember.

I close my eyes, the movement and previously unseen life of the forest too distracting.
The memories lack clarity, and it's like viewing a film through thick stained-glass. "She
was red and screaming." Pain and blood, I screamed. She followed. "Then you held her
toward me and- you frowned, like you are right now, and muttered something." The pale
arms of my love with a ginger hold on squirming blankets, my eyes sliding up to his face
and then an empty stare, 'She's...'

Edward notices the moment I remember, his hand slipping up the column of my spine and
ending on my neck, making small circles into the tensed skin. "So she's really... human?"

"Seven pounds two ounces," he says, his voice impossibly hoarse. "Ten fingers, ten toes,
a strong heartbeat. Carlisle did a very thorough examination on her and she's undoubtedly
human."

"And what's wrong with her?" I plead with him for information, my heart breaking with
each passing second. Something about our child has Edward in mourning, and I don't even
know where she is. I feel like a terrible mother although I know it's not really my fault.

He blinks twice, eyelashes grazing his cheeks when his lids close, and his mouth falls
open slightly. A small pool of venom beads on his tongue as he stands stunned. "What's
wrong with her? She's human!"

I nearly growl when he snarls this, a defensive instinct I didn't realize I'd gained in the
change. Long standing human instincts make me protective though I am no longer one of
them, but I quickly refocus on more important things. This is no time for stupid
squabbles. "So what," I rack my hazy mind for common infantile afflictions, "does she
have colic? Jaundice? Are her lungs okay?"

Edward continues to gape at me which disturbs my fragile temperament. "She's perfectly
healthy, but... are you really not getting this?" Four days ago this harsh tone would have
brought tears of hurt and anger to my brown eyes and down my cheeks, but now I'm just
perturbed. He reads this on my face and cups my cheek in silent amends. "Bella,
Renesmee is human and you are a newborn vampire." Each word slowly falls from his
lips until I feel sufficiently humbled- and stupid.

"Oh."

It takes me a second to remember why I'm not blushing and another to fully grasp what
he's said. "Oh, Edward..." My voice trails off and I'm now mimicking Edward's posture,
stiff and tense with one hand pressed firmly to my stomach and the other clutching him
to me.

"Yes." His hand grips mine tightly and I squeeze back until I feel him wince.

My mind is surprisingly free of grief or despair, though I am not naive enough to assume
that is permanent. Bewilderment temporarily overrides my natural concern. "What are
we... what-" Even I'm not sure of the question my lips try to form.

"I don't know. I have no fucking idea."

I race through all of the options in my head, a new one proposed and rejected with each
footstep. As a newborn, I am expected to steer clear from humans, to build up my
resistance from a distance, but I can't stay away from her. Already my arms feel too light.
I need to coddle her and kiss her cheeks. I want to build upon the indescribable bond I felt
with her in my womb.

A brief moment of clarity is enough to form an idea, unlikely but plausible and pretty
much all we had.

"Well, maybe it won't be that bad." Edward's wide eyes shoot to me, reminding me of
every story I have heard from the Cullens regarding my changing. All consuming blood

lust, an unsatiable thirst. But I can't remember reacting normally to blood even as a
human. Is it possible that that trait had been magnified in my change? Was it likely? I
scanned through my hazy human mind again, just to confirm that I had once even been
sickened by bandaids. "I mean, I was averse to blood as a human, right? So maybe we're
getting worked up for nothing."

"I hope we are." He doesn't sound like he expects it, but he is less dismal than before. It's
a start.

We continue to stroll toward the house. "Renesmee isn't there," he says, attempting to
reassure me but it only makes me anxious. "Alice and Rosalie took her into Port Angeles
to buy some clothing." All I can do now is pray Rosalie is driving; the idea of my baby
buckled into Alice's Porche is almost enough to give me a headache.

The wraparound porch comes into view between the tall grass and thick tree trunks,
though I know we are still a quarter mile away. I am again astounded by the clarity of my
senses, the familiar scratches and self-imposed vandalism clearly visible even from this
distance. Our hands begin to swing together to invisible music, mostly my doing, and for a
moment I feel like I did before. But just a moment.

We step together onto the porch when we arrive moments later and Edward reaches ahead
to open the door for me.

A switch turns. A seductive scent dictates my steps though it is faint enough that I am
not completely lost. I am aware of Edward's tight grip on my bicep and the creaking of
the floor boards beneath by heavy feet. He actively restrains me but it's not enough, my
muscles enhanced by my own human blood. We speed through the hallways in only
seconds, though it's plenty of time for me to notice that Carlisle is in his study and the
rest of the Cullens are absent.

The scent grows stronger, though still incredibly diluted and I can see it's coming from
Rosalie and Emmett's bedroom. All thoughts of etiquette disappear because all that
matters is identifying this hypnotic aroma. I push the door open, crunching the brass
knob in my fist in my hurry and inhaling deeply-

- and then I stop. The room is clearly lived in, decorated with wrinkled bed sheets and an
assortment of knickknacks. My throat still burns but this space is vacated. A quick sniff
sends me to a corner where an old rocking chair sits surrounded by everything small and
pink. I fight to stay standing when my fingers gently lift a small pastel blanket from the
back of the chair, drawing the fabric toward my face in both twisted excitement and dread.

It is faint. Very faint, but the appeal is undeniable. Already the pads of my fingers have
torn through the material, though I tried to be cautious. I inhale deeply and my body

reacts, because the lingering scent of a human calls to some primal part of me. And this is
just her scent, the lightest sprinkling left after touching her skin. What would I do if it was
her blood? Would I have a choice?

Edward jerks on my elbow, and I'm so overwhelmed that I stumble back into his chest.
The ripped pink fleece dropped to the ground. I take two steps back away from the item,
pushing us both to the edge of their bed. Once it's clear that I don't want this, Edward
spins me around, grimacing as soon as he sees my likely black eyes. All satisfaction I felt
earlier is gone and venom pours down my throat.

"Hunt," I manage to sputter between gasping breaths and only wait for his curt nod.

We sprint out the window and back into the woods, Edward clinging to my elbow as I run
from the truth


AN: Yeah... so, sorry about the break. I honestly didn't expect it to take that long.
But in the last four weeks, I have taken all of my finals, moved from the UK back
to America, and written 55 pages of fanfiction for another project I had already
committed to. I barely had time to catch up with friends and family, let alone write
this one. Please know that I will be updating at least once a week until the end of
this. I apologize if this is a little lackluster, I just really wanted to get it out to you
guys.

On a lighter note, thanks to some huge stroke of luck, I'm going to be at Comic-
Con this year from July 23-26. If any of you are going, find the link to the Comic-
Con Twilighted thread on my page and come say hello. We're trying to organize a
fanfic get together while we're out there.

Lastly, I'm hosting "The Age of Edward" contest with Vixen1836, dollegirl,
Kitschisme, Rosette-Cullen, and Stacy Bumblebee. Entries are due July 15 and I
really want to read what you all can come up with :)

Thanks for reading and again, I'm sorry. Forgive me?


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Chapter: 4

AN: Thank you thank you thank you to Legna989 for stepping in as guest beta
while ElleCC is on vacation.

Oh and happy belated birthday, Pastiche Pen :)
Disclaimer: I don't own it.


Month Three


"How did you manage to get this here?"


The ultrasound machine was set up in a spare room, blinking and ready. Carlisle placed a
firm hand on my shoulder and I smiled at the gesture. "Well, we can't exactly bring you to
a hospital unless you want the whole of Forks to know that you're pregnant. Plus, there's
always the chance that the fetus may not be human, and that would be a little hard to
explain to the staff." I felt nearly nauseous at the mention of that particular option. My fear
of the whole of Forks knowing my condition seemed silly in comparison.

I took a deep breath to calm my stomach and approached the makeshift hospital bed.
Though he hadn't explained exactly how this huge piece of machinery had ended up on the
second floor of the Cullen house, I could only imagine it had been difficult. They were
doing so much for me, for all three of us. I would thank them one day when I had the
resources.

Rosalie touched my back gently, guiding me toward it with the soft smile that she wore
perpetually these days. I followed her lead and tried to forget that it was Rosalie and not
Edward who was sitting at my bedside for my first ultrasound. He had offered several
times to stay behind while his brothers hunted, but I didn't want to hold him back. We had
been doing much better lately. Though we didn't talk often about the baby, he had started
to confess some of his concerns. That horrible first month was fading every day. Making
him stay would only lead to resentment.
I turned around and lifted myself onto the bed, kicking my slippers off before leaning back
against the propped pillows. Rosalie stood beside me and pushed up my t-shirt to reveal
my slightly rounded stomach. She had taken to doing that since I started showing, and I'd
stopped being embarrassed a week ago. Her cold hands raised goosebumps on my skin.


"Now, Bella, we're going to look for a few different things today." Carlisle spoke so
professionally, even in this casual setting. "Typically, at three months we listen for a
heartbeat and may be able to get a clearer visual. And in this case we should be able to get

a better idea of what exactly is going on with you." His positive demeanor faded slightly,
his face growing more serious, and he didn't speak again until I met his eye. "I don't want
you to be disappointed if this doesn't work. I really don't know if Edward's sperm or
venom could have done something to disrupt the process, but please be prepared for
something unusual."

Rosalie's palm ran comfortingly over my forearm and I mumbled, "Okay." He retrieved a
bottle from a small table that used to be in the living room, squeezing liberal amounts of a
blue gel onto my skin. I giggled from both the squirting noise and the cold, scrunching my
nose when he spread the gel around somewhat. It looked almost like jelly but was the
color of antifreeze.

"Bella?"

My eyes shot from my stomach to the door at my name, and I couldn't hold in my relieved
sigh. They had only left thirty minutes ago, and I doubted he could quell his thirst that
quickly. I appraised him quickly. His pants were slightly brown with dirt but he was
otherwise unscathed, eyes no lighter than they were when he left. He hadn't eaten anything.
"What are you doing here?" I asked after several long moments. "I thought you were
hunting with Jasper and Emmett."


He approached my side swiftly at my words, ignoring Rosalie's low growl and reaching
over her to cautiously grasp my hand. His lips twitched up when I gripped his fingers in
return, though his face stayed serious. His other fingers combed through my tangled hair.
When he finally spoke, it was with conviction. "I need to be here. With you."

My nerves left with my next exhale, the simple truth of his skin on mine enough to calm me
down. No matter how the ultrasound turned out, I trusted that he would be there with me.
It was just taking him longer to adjust to this major change. I smiled brightly at him,
running my thumb over his pointer finger, and turned toward Carlisle.

Rosalie was not as easily convinced. She swiftly rose to her feet and glared up to Edward.
"How dare you just... stroll in here and pretend like you deserve to see this."

"Rosalie!" My protective instincts raged. I couldn't believe how forcibly she was reacting
to his presence. It was true that she and I had spoken more about my pregnancy and the
child than I had with Edward, but he was always my top priority and he showed up when it
mattered. This was an incredibly scary thing to accept and I was giving him the benefit of
the doubt. "I want him here."

"No," she snapped at me. "He has been standoffish for nearly two months now, leaving
you to deal with it alone, and that is not acceptable." Her hands crossed over her chest

and her chin jutted out. "I think you should leave."

I started to protest, the words bubbling at the back of my throat. But I should have known
Edward would defend himself.

"She is my wife." He grabbed the chair she had previously occupied and in a purposeful
movement, pulled it toward him and took a seat. "This is our... child." With one more
determined stare, he turned again toward me, reclaiming my hand.

Rosalie's eyes were venomous as she glared at Edward. She was moments away from
storming from the room in her annoyance, but I didn't want that either. They were both
family. And maybe it was selfish, but I wanted all the support I could get right now.

She continued her staring contest with the side of his head, so I gripped Edward's hand
and asked her softly, "Please stay." My words broke her from her furious trance, and she
shifted her focus from my husband to my stomach. Meeting my eyes only briefly, she
sighed and walked slowly around the bed, standing stiffly beside the ultrasound screen.

The tension between Rosalie and Edward was palpable, and the stress was giving me a
headache. I silently thanked Carlisle when he cleared his throat and stepped toward me,
apparatus in hand. The probe further spread the jelly as he moved it around my distended
abdomen. His eyes were focused on the monitor, determined and searching. A soft pulsing
sounded around the room, but I didn't know what it was.

"I don't believe it," Carlisle muttered, so quietly that I almost couldn't hear. I glanced at
Edward for confirmation, but his focus was with Carlisle. Even Rosalie stared intently at
the monitor. I felt a little stupid and out of place, even though I knew that was ridiculous.
All three of them had been to medical school, not to mention the decades of other
schooling. But as the seconds ticked by without a spoken word, my irritation and concern
grew. Was something wrong and they weren't telling me?

Carlisle looked to Edward purposefully, clearly sending some mental conversation, and
I'd had enough.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?"

My voice was laughably desperate, but I didn't care. Three sets of eyes moved to me.
Carlisle's expression softened in apology, though his face still showed his disbelief. He
cleared his throat one more time, something that may have been a nervous tic for him.
"Everything looks... normal."

I gaped, glancing once at Edward's blank face then back to Carlisle. "Normal?"

He nodded and pressed a button, freezing the image on the screen. He pulled the probe
away from my stomach and wiped the gel off the end, handing me a napkin. "We can't tell
everything of course. Actually, we know very little, but that looks like a regular ultrasound
at three months." He stepped toward the screen tracing his finger around the images.
"This is the head and you can see some indefinite facial features." Carlisle pointed out
several more things but didn't mention one thing I had noticed.

"And what was that... sound? The machine?"

Edward scooted his chair closer, leaning his forehead against my shoulder. "That's a
heartbeat." My own heart fluttered when he spoke. I was familiar enough with his voice to
know he was smiling.

So much was still up in the air. This was no guarantee that our child would be healthy or
even somewhat normal as the months progressed. But when his hand moved from mine,
sliding up my arm before landing gently against my stomach. His exhale shook with
contented laughter. I imagined he could feel the gentle movements of our child. Our child.
Rosalie and Carlisle talked quietly about the new results and the potential outcomes, but I
couldn't seem to care. Not right now.

Edward and I smiled together in silence while the world continued, our fingers linked and
splayed over my rounded stomach.

Present


My mind is spinning in circles, running over options and an unbelievable new set of
possibilities that I can't even start to consider.

I don't appreciate the calming and powerful push of the blood. The thickening warmth
tastes more bitter. The fulfillment I felt only thirty minutes ago seems emptier.

Cold fingers brush against my waist and I flinch, a low growl building somewhere deep in
my chest. I rapidly take in familiar details- the smell of honey and sunlight, a murmuring
hush against my hair, the dark hair dusting along his pale forearms- and then relax.
Edward's arms tighten further around me, and I don't even have time to feel guilty for
nearly snapping at him before I slink back against his chest. There would be time later to
adjust to these new instincts. I have much more pressing things stealing my focus.

"Edward," I start but I can't even ask the questions that are begging to be released from
my lips. What are we going to do... how are we going to handle this new obstacle... how
am I supposed to handle something like this... They all die in my throat and I fall further
against his chest, mindful of my heightened strength as I place my hands over his skin. I

never anticipated this kind of uncertainty hanging over us after my heart stopped beating.
The change was supposed to be the hard part.

His palm moves up the side of my torso and traces gentle circles over my ribs. For a long
while we simply stand, the drifting sun the only measure of the passing time. I try to
ignore the invisible pull that calls me toward the house. It's impossibly difficult to discern
the want for my baby from the want for subsistence, but I pinch my eyes shut and force
that thought away before it drags us further down. The silence is heavy with my frantic
emotions, so I am not sorry to see it end. I feel the way Edward's chest moves as he
prepares to speak, the moving air pressing his breastbone into the curve of my spine. "We
need to discuss this."

My bare foot steps forward, crunching over green and brown leaves, and Edward lets me
slip out of his arms without a fight. "What is there to discuss?"

I walk in a slow circle around the small clearing that hosted my second hunt, my gaze
hesitant as I peer at him from a few feet away. His eyes never stop moving. They flit
from trees to my hands to the line of my collarbone and everywhere but my face as he
figures out how to explain what I can't. He huffs, dragging long and nervous fingers
through his windswept hair. That movement is familiar, and faint memories of Edward
doing that exact thing during times of stress pass through my mind.

"I- I could smell your venom, Bella. And that was just from her lingering scent."

My heart would have frozen if it weren't already still. The newly toned muscles of my
stomach twist in anxiety and I shrink slightly on my feet, crouching into a more defensive
position. I felt accused and irritated... but mostly embarrassed that he had sensed my
discomfort in more way than one.

"What are you saying?" I ask acerbically. Though I know this is Edward, and Edward
wouldn't intentionally hurt my feelings, I can feel a slight divide. I am defending my own
actions. Me versus him.

"Hey." His voice is soft but firm in a way that immediately makes me regret my
defensiveness. "You're a newborn, Bella. You're behaving like a newborn. You've done
nothing wrong." He places his palms out before him and steps toward me carefully, as if
he fears I will flee. The unused energy twitching in my legs tells me it's a legitimate
concern.

Eventually his fingers make smooth contact with my shoulder and I slide into him again,
allowing him to temporarily distract me from my distress. I nuzzle my nose into his shirt.
"We always knew if I changed you that you'd have to deal with this. You are no different
than any other newborn and that's okay."

"But I can't just be a newborn!"

I push away from him once more, unable to make up my mind even as he tries to calm
me. "Bella-"

"No! I can't. This is about more than me or you, Edward. We have a child who needs her
family." I am frantic and unfair to him, but I can't just leave it at that. It's not an option.
Renesmee deserves better than an easy surrender to the demons threatening to pull us
apart.

Edward seems to sense this too, his shoulders slouching slightly. "I know," he sighs, "I
know."

He makes no move to approach me again, instead leaning back against a thick tree trunk,
and I know it is because he can't anticipate my reaction to him. He has always put my
needs first, never grasping that his pain is my pain. But this kind of separation will only
hurt us both. His slight frown and the uneasy way he folds his arms make my chest hurt,
so I quickly stride toward him until he is in my arms. We need to work together and
nothing calms my mind better than his skin on mine.

I draw determination from his eager embrace and sigh. "I'll just have to be stronger. I can't
let this thing control me. I refuse." His hand tightens on my upper arm when my words
speed up desperately, and I try to rationalize my thoughts again. If Edward could develop
enough control to make love to me despite the undeniable temptation of my blood, then
surely I could do this. "I just need to... desensitize myself."

He stays silent but holds me for a few more seconds before stepping back and nodding in
the direction of home. I follow immediately, prepared to hoard that tattered blanket until
her scent becomes nothing but a dull ache. I can handle that.

We move again toward the house, a weak shadow of the scared and hopeful couple who
walked hand in hand along this path only a short while ago. We maintain a careful space
between us. The only tangible sign of our movement is the sound of our feet,
unconsciously moving in tandem. Passing a large sycamore, Edward tilts his head forward
slightly, straining to hear a silent conversation.

"They're back," he mutters. "But I don't hear Rosalie. Maybe she's still out with
Renesmee." We are still two miles or more from the house, and it takes me a moment to
remember his talent. Since he hasn't said anything, I assume that my mind is still blank to
him. A few seconds later his pale hand reaches behind him, blindly feeling for mine, and
he pulls me closer to his side. I stop with him when he pauses beside a small bush, breaks
in the canopy sprinkling sunlight onto the ground and our skin.

I want to admire the way my hands toss diamonds across the trunk of a nearby tree, but
his eyes are capturing my attention. "If that's what we need to try, Bella... to benumb
your reactivity to her," Edward's lips move down to my ear, unintentionally brushing
against my skin, "then I'll do whatever I can to help."

His mouth is so close to mine and when he mutters those beautiful words, my focus
falters. I turn my head and we connect, lip to lip, chest to chest. I am overwhelmed by
love and desire to pull him closer, and I remember that reaction being typical, but it is not
the same as kissing him before my change. Almost instantly Edward pushes closer to me,
his fingers sliding up the front of my body to my chin and pulling my mouth open. My
breath is his breath. His tongue swipes over and under mine while his hands pull me flush
against him, and if kissing him feels this spectacular then I can only imagine the rapture of
his nude body pressed to me completely, pushing and giving until I forget my own name.
I lose myself in this single pure moment, knowing I'll need this strength to quell the
uncertainty later.

Edward's fingers find my wrists and wrap around them tightly. I relish feeling this
passion from him until his mouth breaks from mine, gasping curses escaping his lips in a
blur of confusion. I try to catch his eye, but his untold panic holds his attention. "I didn't
hear. Shit, I didn't-"

His words, his vice-like grip, the forest all fade as I inhale, the air heavy with the smell
that clings to everything in Rosalie's bedroom. It swirls in my lungs and adheres to every
taste bud, distant but tenacious. My body arches and separates from the large body
trying, but failing to restrain me before I even fully inhale. I curl onto the balls of my feet,
prowling silently as I identify the exact direction of the source. It doesn't take long. My
throat burns with need and the decision has already been made.

"Bella, wait!"

But I don't hear anymore. I take another drag of seductive air, taking it into my chest
greedily. It surrounds me with invisible thread, calling and tugging me until I can no longer
resist. So I don't.
I run.



AN: A few quick notes:
1. The Bellies are back for round two! Go to http://www(dot)thecatt(dot)net to
nominate your favorite stories. You can nominate every story except for "Wide
Awake" and stories by limona, withthevampsofcourse, and jandco.

2. Also coming up are The Indie TwiFic Awards, a new awards hosted by the lovely
gustariana and hmonster04 for underappreciated fic. Go to
http://www(dot)theindietwificawards(dot)com for more information.

3. An episode I recorded for houroflead and thiscolony's podcast will be up in the
next few days at http://tyhit(dot)blogspot(dot)com. You should listen if for no other
reason then to hear what a huge dork I am haha.
Sorry for the lengthy authors note, and thank you so much for reading and
reviewing. Seriously. You all give me the motivation to keep going. And I promise
to be better about replying this time :)




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Chapter: 5


A/N: Musical inspiration for this one, strangely enough, came from Sufjan
Steven’s album Songs For Christmas, “The Ride” by Milow, and “Falling in Love at
a Coffee Shop” by Landon Pigg. Another massive thanks to Legna989 for guest
betaing the first half, ElleCC for doing the second, and to everyone who had to
deal with me being a sad sack these last few weeks. Michellephants came up with
the idea that made this chapter work. Go thank her by reading Vampire in the
Basement (and listen to us both on the Temptation podcast that's up right now
hehe).

Thank you all for being so patient. Real life and fic life have gotten a little too
intertwined this last month or so. Your reviews mean more than I can say.


Disclaimer: Not mine.


Month Four

The dark quiet of our bedroom should have dulled my senses, drawing me further into the
stillness until calm sleep took me. The plush mattress rested comfortably below my body
as always. The warm blankets molded to my form and pushed away the December air.

Everything was perfect and conducive to a good night’s sleep.

Everything except for my hormones.

Edward curled behind me on the bed, his knees fitting like puzzle pieces against the back
of my legs while his hand drifted up and down my arm. He only meant to soothe my
tension. Though by now, he had to have realized what he was doing to me. My skin tingled
at every point where he touched me. I couldn’t tell if the goose bumps were from his
temperature or my arousal. He was barely moving, and yet he was driving me crazy.

Logically, I knew better than to even attempt to bring up this subject to Edward. Somehow,
I couldn’t see Edward, the man who had been so terrified to hurt me in his passion when I
was at my healthiest, agreeing to appease my desire while I was carrying his child. But as
his fingers drifted down across my arm to trace a small circle over my stomach, it was
hard to remember logic. I wanted him.

It didn’t help that things had been so much better between us. Something had changed in
him when that fuzzy image flickered onto the monitor. He may not have been completely
calm, and he was certainly still terrified, but for the first time I was absolutely sure that he
was with me on this. It was in the way his eyes flickered first to my stomach when he
entered the room, in the absentminded touches he placed over our child when we cuddled
like this.

It was hard to focus on his lingering hesitance when he unconsciously showed his
affection. Nothing else really mattered. Not Rose and her steadfastly cold attitude toward
Edward, not Carlisle and his endless questions. Nothing but us and our growing baby.

Edward’s hand ran smoothly over my upper arm again, his face ducking further into my
neck to plant a kiss. “Having trouble sleeping?”

I visibly shuddered when his lips touched me, the cool air of his words clouding onto my
skin, and he misinterpreted my reaction. “I’m sorry, I must be freezing you.” His legs
moved from mine and I felt his fingers moving over my stomach once more in preparation
to disconnect completely. I couldn’t let that happen. Moving purely on instinct, my hand
shot up to hold his in place. He stilled and I took the moment to awkwardly roll over,
sliding our hands together across my torso to my back until I faced him.

I knew he could sense how I was feeling. He could see it in my skin, hear it in my heavy
heartbeat, even smell it in my blood and on my panties. I also knew he was too polite to
say anything. But I didn't want him to ignore it. I wanted him to do something about it.

Tilting my chin up, I stared directly into his eyes and he knew what I wanted, ducking his
head slightly to press his mouth to mine. When he pursed his lips to break away, I pushed

forward to hold our connection. I moved my mouth in ways that had seduced him in the
past, rough suction on his upper lip and nipping at his lower lip with my teeth. My still
small but expanding stomach left unwanted space between us, though I did what I could to
get closer. My body was on fire from his gentle hands on my face. Even I was aware of
how ridiculous that was.

Both my heart and my ego took a hit when Edward pulled away after a few minutes. He
laid his head against our shared pillow and continued rubbing my arm as he did before. I
blinked, praying that I could turn over again before he saw the frustrated tears blurring
my vision. I should have known I couldn't fool him.

"Hey," he asked softly, his hand against my cheek guiding my eyes back to his. "What's
wrong?"

I tried to shake my head, but he stopped me from moving. He frowned at me and added,
“Please don’t do that. Tell me what’s wrong. Why are you crying?”

"Three months,” I whispered. I feared if I spoke any louder, I would either cry in earnest
or throw a fit. It was getting harder to predict my own responses as the hormones messed
with my emotions.

"What?" he asked, clearly confused as he attempted to make things better by caressing my
hair.

I gulped, not looking forward to the slur of emotions likely to cross his features once I told
him my problem. Though I knew that nothing good would really come from speaking these
words, pregnant insecurities were quickly winning out over practicality. I stared at his t-
shirt and quickly muttered, "You haven't touched me in three months, Edward." Maybe if I
mumbled enough he wouldn’t be able to discern one ridiculous word from the next.

In my moping, I disregarded the clarity of vampire hearing. If Edward were human, he
would have paled. Instead, I had to note what changes I could see in my peripheral vision.
His lips parted just slightly while his eyes widened. I focused more intently on a small tear
in his blue shirt, not wanting to see his face as he prepared to let me down easily.

“Bella… I…” He was uncharacteristically lost for words—not stuttering, but stringing
together words with lengthy pauses. “I can’t…” His hand went limp, arm draped lightly
across my body but not really touching me. “You know why…”

No longer trapped by his stone hands, I flipped over in his arms and let the frustration run
hot down my cheeks. This was the first time since our honeymoon that he had turned me
down, and my mind was not letting me consider any rational reasons. Why wouldn’t he
touch me anymore? Were the hormones making me unbearable? Was he bitter about my

unexpected pregnancy? Was my expanding waistline dimming his attraction to me? The
questions got more devastating and more irrational until a whimper built in my throat,
escaping on a shaky breath.

His large hand loosely gripped my elbow and attempted to coax me toward him, but I
refused, childishly burrowing my face further into the pillow. I was unsurprised to feel a
rush of air overpass me as Edward moved rapidly to my side of the bed, forcing me to
face him. I lifted my arm over my face to cover myself, but he pushed it down.

“Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.”

I chanced a look at his face, and Edward appeared completely lost. His eyes nearly
vibrated as they rapidly ran over my face, and I knew he was trying to figure out what to
say to make me calm down. For a moment, I felt guilty for putting him in this position, but
that was quickly squashed as another round of loud sobs made me duck my head, the top
of my head resting momentarily against his chest.

“Bella, what is the matter?” he asked desperately.

“It’s okay if you don’t find me attractive anymore, Edward. I understand, but please leave
me alone,” I blubbered, taking quick and unsteady breaths every few seconds. I couldn’t
lie on my stomach like I wanted, so I rolled over instead and cried to Edward’s empty spot
on our bed.

In a flash I was on my back again, hands pressed into the bed beside my head as Edward
shifted his knee between my legs. He hovered over me, and I couldn’t help my gasp at the
distantly familiar position. I couldn’t control my need for him even as he stared down at
me so sadly.

“You think I don’t want you anymore?”

The hushed words were forceful and surprising coming from Edward’s mouth. He was
rarely harsh with me without reason, and I could feel the shame creep up on me again.

“Edward, I… of course not,” I lied. How could I expect him to still desire me as the
pounds built upon my normally small frame? It wasn’t his fault.

His frown deepened. “You really think that.”

I wanted to reassure him, but it was hard to comfort him when all I wanted to do was cry
alone into my pillow. So, I just looked up at him, trying in vain to blink away my tears. He
stared at my face for another moment and then collapsed beside me on the bed, pressing
his face tightly against my neck and sliding his arms underneath me on the bed. “I am so

sorry, Isabella. I am so sorry,” he whispered repeatedly and I wasn’t sure what to do. My
hand drifted to the back of his head, sifting through his hair out of habit while I struggled
to keep myself together.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.”

“But it is my fault.” I started to speak again but he stopped me, pressing a quick kiss to
my shoulder before lifting his head to look at me. Tracing the back of his hand down my
cheek, he waited until my gaze connected to his before whispering fervently. “I love you
and want you so much. And I can never forgive myself for letting you think otherwise.”

“Edward–”

His lips were on mine before I could say anything else. His hands slowly slid down my
arms again until our fingers were linked above my head as his breath filling my mouth
through parted lips. In an instant, my insecurities slipped away, desire causing me to turn
my body toward his. Though he lay beside me instead of above me, I could still connect
our feet. This felt wonderful. The way his lips moved to slide down my neck and how
forcefully his hands held mine against the mattress was seductively familiar, and I pushed
my hips toward his, smiling when I felt him hard against my thigh. He did want me. And
god, did I want him.

Edward’s mouth released my neck and moved toward my ear, nipping it with his lips once
before he whispered, “I can’t make love to you, not while you are still pregnant.” The
rejection returned, stronger this time, and I struggled to escape from his iron grip. He
predicted my fight and held me tighter, though not hard enough to hurt. “Please believe
me when I tell you that I want to,” he sucked gently on my lobe to emphasize his words,
“but I can’t risk hurting our child like that. He or she is too important.”

At that quiet declaration, I froze. My hands went limp in his, and Edward glanced at me
again. He looked at me, honest and serious, and I nearly cried at the love washing
through me. He loved our child enough to protect it. And that was… astounding.

“Okay,” I answered with a quiet laugh, no longer wanting to fight him. My selfish need
for physical affection could wait. It all could wait when Edward was protecting our child.
This was worth the discomfort.

One of Edward’s hands released mine and I moved it toward his ribs, preparing to
snuggle into him and attempt to sleep again. So, I frowned in surprise when his hand
found my chest, gently pushing me back onto my back. His fingers danced between my
breasts, moving down over my stomach until he reached my waist. They slid across the
line of my pants and my breath hitched in anticipation.

“Just because we can’t have sex doesn’t mean we can’t do other stuff.”

All I could do was nod, smiling in excited relief as his cool fingers slipped below the hem of
my sweatpants. As soon as he grazed my skin, I gasped, my hips jerking up after so many
months without any contact. Edward grinned and pressed his lips along my jaw.

“I will always want you, Bella. Never doubt that.”

And I believed him.


Present

I run.

I run and my legs stretch, strides longer and more controlled than that of the deer I hunted
earlier. The forest moves around me in perfect clarity despite my speed. If my mind
wasn’t so singularly focused, I could have taken a moment to admire the way the strands
of moss twine and cling on the sun-drenched side of the trees. I could have been
awestruck by how easily I navigate around the obstacles in my path, never losing my
speed. But all I can feel is the blood-soaked air swirling in my nose and mouth. It seduces
me, and I am certain that if I can let this indescribable perfection slither down my burning
throat, I will never need anything else. This is Eden.

Instinct tells me I am being pursued, a skilled tracker trying to prevent me from reaching
my target, but I will not let him. I am faster. His loud words do not faze me. His feet
cannot keep up.

I dodge a branch and hurdle over a small bush without losing my footing, the rich scent
growing stronger as I progress. No more than ten seconds have passed since I first
inhaled, but the agony of my need is growing. I must capture this. I must embrace my
nature and let this blood sustain me, as I know it will.

My eager nose catches a foreign scent, familiar but dangerous. Three distinct enemies
approach from ahead, their bodies pulsing with anticipation, and I wonder if they will try
to steal my prize. I know without doubt that I will not let them. My hands are strong and
my legs are swift. The fight is already won.

The leader of the encroaching trio, a sinewy and yellow-haired warrior, steps in my path
half a mile ahead and I falter, distantly aware that my failing pursuer grows closer with
each passing second. The remaining two fall left and right and I am surrounded. I shrink
back as fierce snaps and growls ring in the air around me. My weight is centered on the
balls of my feet. I glance nervously around me for an escape but the leader moves forward

until he is no more than ten yards from me. I snarl again, deep and vicious, but he is
unaffected. All the while, my reason for running lingers in the forest air, increasing my
hostility but distracting my focus.

The blond steps closer and his skin is covered in crisscrossing bite marks. He is a threat.
He is keeping me from my prize. I scan the area again and notice a larger gap between the
female and the leader than I previous expected, and before they can stop me, I run again.
There is no time to be more practical about this. I can only push my willing muscles and
run until I reach my target or am taken down.

One of them dives for me, but I evade, and then the fallen leaves are again a blur under my
powerful feet. My followers are falling further behind and the scent blooms fresh and
undeniable as a large house comes into view. The sweet and dangerous smell of more
vampires warns me of the danger ahead, but I don’t care. Voices ring out from behind me,
but I am too close now.

A female with long hair moves swiftly toward the steps of the home, a bundle in her pale
arms, and I know that is what I am looking for. My senses demand that I go to it. I am no
more than four seconds from my target, and the female knows this. Her stance grows
defensive as she passes the bundle to the male behind her. She will not stop me.
Fulfillment is almost within my grasp. And then –

A cry, high and piercing, echoes from the small bunch of blankets. Tiny fingers grasp at
air, squirming until the male leans closer to whisper a soothing hush. Just like that,
everything is different.

Something aches deep in my chest, and I know this is separate from my desire for blood.
This isn’t a craving. This is longing and I want nothing more than to hold those tiny
fingers. I want to kiss her plump hand until her contented silence fills my world.

“Renesmee?” I croak.

That one second of lucidity nearly makes me trip over my feet, and that’s all it takes. All
I see before two heavy bodies force me to the ground is the female, Rosalie, pulling the
child back toward her from… Carlisle. My cheek hits dirt and I am immobilized. For a
few moments I thrash beneath them, but the heavy realization of what I’ve almost done
quickly makes me crumble beneath them. I tried to hunt a human. I almost murdered my
daughter.

I hear, rather than see, swift footsteps and the swing of a car door. The haze from the
bloodlust almost gone, and I am left unsatisfied and nearly crushed by guilt. My head
rises in time to see Alice and Jasper sprinting away from the house. I don’t blame them.

Two large hands grip my arms and lift until I am standing. Edward and Emmett pull
against me, but I’m stuck. My legs will not work. The lust is gone and I just feel empty.

“Bella, come on! Move!” Emmett pleads. I let my chin fall to my chest and take a step.
There’s no point in fighting them. What else can I do?

I allow myself to be weak as Edward and Emmett drag me toward the other side of the
house. The red convertible peels out of the driveway, carrying my baby, my prey, to a
safe location. The thirst still rages in my throat but I am too distraught. Why did I ever
ask for this? What have I done?

“What if I can’t be around her?” I moan aloud once we gain a safe distance from that hell.
Emmett glances between Edward and me once and with a nod of his head, releases my arm
and leaves. The ruffled leaves are the only traces of his departure.

Edward steps around until we are face to face, rubbing my arms in a weak sign of
support. “We will figure this out,” he mutters, “we have always figured it out.”

“But what if we can’t?” I rebut almost instantly. I’m quickly growing tired of his
attempts to placate me. “I tried to eat my child, Edward. I am a monster.”

“Bella…” His eyes beg me to stop, dark and wild as his worst fears come to fruition, but
I can’t. My fury needs a target outside of myself. I feel my posture stiffen in aggression,
my hands balling into fists at my sides.

“You made me a monster. Why did you do this to me?”

Edward’s eyes grow wide and I already know how unfair my words are. I begged him for
this, bartered with my love until he conceded, but right now I only see red. The agony is
threatening my sanity.

“What…” he tries, but I don’t let him continue.

My voice grows louder and more hysterical, hands shoving against his chest aggressively.
“Why did you change me? Why the fuck would you condemn me to a world where I can’t
even be near my own daughter?” His face transforms with each of my accusations. I can
see the anger and hurt growing in his expression. I feed off it when I spit out my next
question, knowing fully well that it will sting. “Why didn’t you just let me die–”

“Because if you died, then Renesmee would be an orphan, Isabella. Okay?”

Well, shit.

Those horrible words are shoved at me with such finality that I can’t doubt him.
Something about his tone reminds me this isn’t the first time we’ve had this discussion.

A crowded piazza in Italy. My lungs burn with strain but I push anyway. I need to stop
him. I need to save Edward from himself.

For the second time in five minutes, my heart breaks.

His voice cracks, “Look if you hate me, that’s fine. I understand, I really do. But I’ve said
it before and I’ll say it again. My world doesn’t exist without you in it.”

He stands before me, broken by my words, and I am struck again with guilt. Edward,
though unchanging in physical appearance, seems worn and more tired than I’ve ever seen
him. I have been so consumed in myself that I didn’t even consider how he has been
affected. His child, our child is in jeopardy and Edward looks… overwhelmed.

How did I not notice this?

“Edward…” I walk toward him slowly until my fingers meet his shirt. I let my left hand
wander up to play with the messy hair around his ear.

Words are shallow. My love for him is not. I need him.

Standing on my toes, I press my lips firmly against his in apology, begging him to
understand I didn’t mean anything I just said to him. Edward surprises me and answers
back with desperation. His hands roam over my neck and back, gripping as if he’s afraid
I’ll run away again.

After just a few seconds of that solemn bliss, I pull back to look at Edward. We need to
get our heads together. The timing is all wrong.

“Please,” he whispers fiercely, sad eyes smoldering despite the slowly setting sun, and I
could never deny him.

Yes, I answer with a kiss.

My back slams roughly against the tree bark, doing much more damage to the tree, and
then he is everywhere. Teeth pull at lips, hands yank hair, and only Edward can fill me up
so completely that I have no space for grief.

The underwear I didn’t know I was wearing is already in tatters, my skirt shoved up
around my waist. I can’t separate my mouth from his skin. My tongue explores his dirty
neck with fervor, and when he finally pushes forward and up and we are connected in

every possible way, I let my teeth sink into his flesh. He shudders. I gasp. We begin to
move.

In a matter of days, my life has slipped further than I thought possible, and I’ve taken
Edward with me. So many words need to be said. Decisions need to be made that I’m not
ready or willing to make yet. Everything needs to be resolved. But not right now.

I push down against Edward and sink against his open lips as we groan into the forest air.

We need this moment to drown.


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Chapter: 6


AN: Elle, my amazing beta, I love you dearly. Inspiration? You’ve been a bit of a
sonofabitch, but I’ll forgive you if you visit more often. Christina, 14 more days
until we land in SD.

Disclaimer: Not mine.


Month Five

“All right so we… or I decided. If it’s a boy, his name will be Edward.” I circled the name
with a dramatic swish of my pen. That had been easy to narrow down, though the list of
potential boy names was admittedly very small to begin with. I reached behind me
awkwardly to fluff my pillow and settled back into the comfortable living room chair.

“Sure, Edward it is,” my Edward answered distractedly from the floor in front of me. I
would complain that he wasn't closer, but his fingers were busy working magic on my
swollen feet. At least he was still touching me. That was all that really mattered.

I turned slightly toward the end table and grabbed my spoon, taking a bite of half-melted
ice cream. My appetite had been a little more ravenous lately; when I wasn’t eating
omelettes, I was wolfing down desserts. Alice had already promised to help me get back in
shape after the baby was born, so I tried not to worry about my weight anymore. Of
course, that was easier said than done, but Edward had been great about showing me how

much he still desired me…

The man in question pressed his thumb up the center of my foot, massaging the top with
his fingertips before moving up to my ankle. It felt so damn good that I dropped the spoon
back into the bowl with a clank and a soft moan.

“God, I love your hands,” I said quietly, as if that would stop the others from hearing me.
He glanced up at me with a smirk, catching the double entendre I hadn't intended. I leaned
forward slightly to run my fingers through his hair and smiled wider when he pressed his
lips to my ankle. Moments like this… it was hard to remember things weren't actually
perfect.

After a quick kiss to the top of his messy head, I sat back against the couch and flipped
over to the next page where I’d scrawled down a few names the night before.

“All right, back to business. Did you have any ideas for girls’ names?” I tapped my pen
over the name I had come up with last night, leaving small blots of ink on the yellow
paper.

“I don’t know,” he answered quietly, and a quick glance showed me he was focusing
rather intently on my heel. His expression was a little hard to decipher. I didn’t linger
though. I was too comfortable and too focused on the task at hand.

“Okay…” I glanced through the five names on my list, choosing the one I thought he
might like best first. “What about Elizabeth?”

His fingers paused on my foot for a second before continuing to rub small circles into my
skin. “Like my mother, Elizabeth?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know.”

I felt embarrassed, his dismissive tone making me feel like I’d done something wrong.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure why. “I know that you can’t remember
much about her, but I thought it would be a nice gesture.”

Edward glanced up and frowned when he saw the worry I so clearly wore on my face,
reaching up to run his fingertips over the back of my hand. “Bella, that’s not what I
meant.” He quieted again but continued to rub my foot and ankle. It didn’t feel quite as
good anymore. “Whatever name you like, I like.”

I sighed audibly. Why was he closing up again? We had been so much better about

communication, and I had spent the last several weeks numbingly happy whenever we
were together. And frankly, having already dealt with an irritable Edward for a few of the
months since our honeymoon, this new indifference was getting tiresome quickly.

I groaned, my irritation obvious even to me, “Edward–”

He quickly cut me off. “I just want you to be happy.”

That only annoyed me further. This wouldn’t work if he just went along with what I wanted
to keep me calm and content. I was asking for his honest input because I wanted him to be
a part of this. Hell, it was more than that. I wanted him to want to be a part of this. The
tapping of my pen grew louder with my frustration, but he paid no mind, all of his focus
apparently required to make my legs feel better.

Pulling my foot out of his grasp, I folded my arms, resting them gently on my rounded
stomach. “I don’t want you to just appease me, Edward. I asked your opinion because I
wanted to know.” When he continued to stare down, I continued, “What is it? Do you hate
the name? Do you just not care?”

“Bella,” he breathed, finally glancing up at me with intentionally loving and alluring eyes,
but that wasn’t going to work this time. He couldn’t just manipulate his way out of a
difficult conversation.

“No. Why are you being so apathetic about this? I thought we were past this hesitance.”

He sat back on his heels for a moment, running his hands along the tops of his legs, and
then scooted forward on the carpet to cautiously rest his ear on my thigh. His head tilted
so he could see my face, his arm loosely hugging my leg. I knew this was his way of trying
to explain his feelings. Right before I chastised him for avoiding the question, he spoke
softly.

“It’s just…”

The words trailed off and he was quiet again, his face concentrated as he tried to figure
out his words. He didn’t look uninterested anymore, just conflicted.

Scooting forward to the edge of the cushion, though my stomach was admittedly making it
a little more difficult, I placed my hands on either side of his face. I brushed along his
cheeks before sliding down to his neck, my thumbs resting along his jaw line. “Please,” I
begged softly, guiding his eyes up to mine while my fingers traced mindless shapes along
his hairline. “Talk to me.”

His pale hand moved almost immediately to rest on my wrist while his eyes dropped to my

stomach. I waited somewhat patiently through his silence. My angry hormones wanted me
to shake him until he talked, but somehow I set that desire aside. Pushing and yelling at
him would only get us both worked up.

A few moments later, I noticed his lips move. My ears barely detected a whisper. I wasn’t
really sure he had spoken until he looked up at me expectantly.

I shook my head and furrowed my brow. Stupid vampires and their inhuman hearing.
“Did you say something? I couldn’t hear you.”

He took a deep breath and repeated each word clearly, “It’s just really hard for me to
believe this is real sometimes.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Bella,” he sighed, moving up to sit on the armrest of my chair. I settled somewhat
sideways in my chair, wanting to see him when he talked again. His feet rested underneath
my thigh. He took a few seconds to simply trace his fingers over my cheeks, my forehead.
His touch and his obvious affection were very sweet, but that urge to shake him was
growing stronger by the second.

After some quick consideration, I settled on a simple, “Please.”

He smiled weakly and settled his hand on my shoulder. “I told you that I was that boy
who would have made the girl I loved an honest woman; marriage, children, the works.
After Carlisle changed me, and I woke up this… soulless half a person,” I opened my
mouth in protest, but he had moved on before I could say anything, “I was forced to
accept that I could never have that life. When I married you, I felt like, This is it. This is
the happiest I will ever be. And I was so beyond satisfied to spend eternity by your side.
But now… here I am, sitting in a chair with my beautiful wife… discussing baby names.”
He allowed his fingers to drift toward my neck, the baggy t-shirt I’d stolen from him
exposing enough skin for him to trace my collarbone. “I’m just kind of waiting for
something to take it away from me.”

I didn’t realize I was tearing up until a hot drop fell to my cheekbone. Blinking rapidly, I
whispered, “Edward–”

But now that he’d started opening up, he didn’t seem to want to stop. “I just know there is
still so much that could go wrong. We think she’s human, but we can’t really know for
sure. And there’s always the chance that some kind of cross-species blend couldn’t
survive outside the womb, but...”

He finally moved his eyes from where his fingers were tracing my skin to look at my face,

and immediately stopped talking. His thumb moved to catch a tear from my cheek and he
slouched shamefully forward over his bent knees.

“I’m sorry. I’m bringing you down again.”

Wanting to quickly discourage him from stifling himself, I grabbed his hand and pulled,
scooting over to make room for him beside me in the chair. He understood what I wanted,
strong arms easily lifting and settling me onto his lap before wrapping themselves around
me tightly.

Edward still hadn’t finished speaking and looked far more worried and embarrassed than
he should have, as if what he said had really upset me. I mean, it had, but not for the
reasons he was thinking.

“Damn hormones are making me emotional,” I joked uneasily, trying to ease the tension
as I cleared my eyes of the lingering tears.

“This is why I didn’t want to say anything,” he muttered, squeezing my bicep comfortingly.

“Stop. I want to know these things, and it makes me sad when you keep something this
troubling from me.” Before he could feel any worse, because I knew he had a tendency to
dwell on these things, I settled more comfortably against his chest. “I’m worried about
that stuff too, you know.” The words came out muffled, but I knew he heard me.

“Really?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. I rolled my eyes.

“Of course I am.” I drew imaginary circles around my bellybutton, drawing some
confidence from the little baby nestled inside my stomach. “I think being pregnant at
nineteen would be terrifying regardless of the situation. It was certainly never something I
wanted. Plus, I’m pretty sure if Charlie knew what we were doing instead of studying at
Dartmouth, he would have shot you by now… or tried.” I briefly tried to imagine what
would happen if a bullet hit Edward’s impermeable skin, but his moving fingers quickly
brought me back on topic.

“So yes, I would be scared even if we were a normal couple. And this?” I chuckled
humorlessly, “I can’t let myself think too hard about everything that could go wrong, or
I’ll drive myself crazy.”

I touched his face, needing to feel closer to him. When his warm eyes focused on mine, the
living room and the rustle of his family in the adjacent rooms disappeared, and it was just
us. Me and Edward and our baby. “We can’t waste our time worrying about all of the
things that are out of our control. All I can say is that I love you, and I’m not going
anywhere. We will be together, no matter what happens.”

Edward’s jaw went slack for a moment, and when he composed his expression, it was with
a smile. “You amaze me. How do you know exactly what I need to hear?”

I felt a blush creeping onto my cheeks as he pulled my head closer against his chest. I
decided to deflect his attention, bringing the conversation to a lighter place.

“Besides, you already got me to marry you,” I teased. “After that, this will be a piece of
cake.”

Edward snorted, a rare ungraceful sound that made me laugh, and ruffled my hair. It was
probably standing on end, but I didn’t care. “I sure hope so.”

His fingers pressed below my chin, tilting my head up to kiss my mouth once before
settling us more comfortably into the chaise. He combed through my hair with one hand
and reached over to the end table with the other. My lips curved up into a pleased smiled
when he set my notebook on my lap, twirling a pen between his fingers.

“So, did you have any other ideas for girls’ names besides these?”

I smiled because he sounded more buoyant, like he was actually interested in discussing
this. That was really all I wanted.

“Actually, I was thinking through some names last night, playing with different
combinations–”

“Bella, I love that!” Alice squealed from another room. I giggled, and either Alice was
blocking Edward from her mind or he was just pretending he hadn’t already heard. In
fact, he looked a little frustrated to be out of the loop.

I took a deep breath before taking the pen out of his hand. “This is going to sound a little
strange, but hear me out…”



Present


“What now?” I ask quietly, my toes tapping an irregular rhythm against the wood-panel
porch. My hand pushes a strap back up my shoulder, the fabric permanently stretched
from Edward’s fingers… or teeth. I’m not entirely sure.

“What now,” he echoes back dismally. The family is just inside, except of course for

Rosalie and Renesmee, but none of them has moved since we ran back from our clearing
ten minutes ago. Our hands are firmly linked together between our dirt-smudged thighs.
His touch is the only thing restraining me from more panicked behavior. I’m fairly certain
he feels the same way.

Her scent still lingers in the blades of grass, and I eagerly swallow another mouthful of
venom. This is close to torture. It’s more than I deserve.

Out of nowhere, my muscles relax as if I’ve taken a deep, calming breath. I mumble my
thanks to Jasper. He and Alice had returned soon after we left. I should feel terrible for
imposing upon him with my sadness and bloodlust, but he is the least of my concerns
right now.

“Do… do we just… wait? I mean, the bloodlust won’t always be this all-consuming,
right?” I try to recall everything he told me about vampirism before my change, and I
know that we discussed this, but the specific details are too unclear to recall.

“Yes.”

His affirmative answer doesn’t comfort me. His despair is as obvious as my own. I can
see it in his sullen posture. I can hear it in his hollow voice, the monotony of his tone
conflicting with the easy buzz of forest life.

I swallow again, cringing at the amount of venom I force down my throat. “How long is it
going to be like this?”

He mumbles, but his fingers tighten around mine before he speaks, betraying his concern.
“It varies for everyone, but around a year or two.”

“Oh god,” I mutter shakily, the thought of staying away from my daughter for that long
tearing at my chest. Edward’s arm releases my hand to wrap around my waist and pulls
me flush against his side. I lean sideways until my face rests against the top of his leg, the
jeans soft but textured against my cheek. I feel his lips against my shoulder, and we are
hunched together on the stoop of our house, sulking and sinking into the only thing that
makes sense anymore.

“Maybe I can help.”

I am so focused on Edward’s thigh, discerning the different scents that are woven into the
threads of denim and trying to ignore the desire to crumble, that the intrusion of another
into our isolated pile startles me. I flinch back into a seated position, relaxing back into
my sullen crouch when I recognize who it is.

“Alice,” Edward growls, and I reach over to squeeze his fingers until his own unclench.
Her natural scent, obviously one of a vampire but still unique, is clouded by some floral
product holding her hair in place. It’s distantly familiar and not unpleasant. My new eyes
allow me to see the exact point at which her eye shadow fades to clean skin, and her
cherry-red pout would have been amusing if it weren’t aimed at my husband.

Despite his ire, she stands strong, placing her hands firmly on her hips, “Well, I’m sorry
Edward. I’ve respected your privacy since Bella woke up, but I can’t just sit here and let
you both wallow. That’s not going to solve anything.”

“Well, what the hell else can we do?” I’m being difficult, and I know it, but I don’t feel
bad about it. She has no idea how this feels.

“Brainstorm! I mean you guys knew something like this was a possibility–”

“Not this. Never this,” Edward grumbles, and I am sure that he is right even though I
can’t really remember. We must have made arrangements for the different possibilities,
but Edward would never have changed me unless my death was imminent. A strong wave
of guilt passes through me when I think of the wounding things I spat at Edward back in
the forest, and I hear an agonized groan from inside.

I glance at Edward, confused and a little defensive, but he just pulls me closer again and
whispers, “Jasper,” in my ear. I sink further into his side, trying to feel something besides
pain, but not succeeding.

“See?” Alice says softly, “All that this… guilt and brooding is doing is making things
difficult for everyone.” I know that she really means Jasper, but I don’t blame her. I
would do the same thing for my husband, my need to shield him from pain so much
fiercer with venom coursing through my veins.

She places her dainty hand on my arm, and it is not cold as I remember, but soft. Pliable.
“Nothing is going to get better unless you can calm down enough to talk about this
logically.”

“What exactly do you propose we do?” I ask, my tone sounding much harsher to my ears
than I intended. A quick glance in her direction shows me I am already forgiven and I
groan in frustration. Everyone is so fucking consistently understanding that it only makes
me feel worse. Everything is my fault. They should be furious with me.

Alice scoots across the porch, sitting with her back to the railing opposite our depressed
coupling. “Obviously you can’t be close to Renesmee until the newborn bloodlust starts
to fade. Unless–”

“No,” I cut her off, “I refuse to do anything that puts her at risk.”

“Fair enough,” she nods.

“Have you seen anything?” Edward interrupts, looking toward Alice with sadly hopeful
eyes.

She quickly shakes her head, and he presses himself closer to my body. “Everything is
too uncertain. The visions are exactly like they were when she was still pregnant. You
guys really do have no idea what you’re going to do.” I know without seeing him that
Edward is rolling his eyes, possibly glaring at her obvious statement.

Alice suddenly looks uncertain, her ankles slowly crossing together as she flattens her
palms on the porch. I peer at her curiously, caught between regarding the subtleties of her
expression and wanting to know why her forehead is creased between her brows.

“You were… out for those three days.” I tremble once as I remember the mortal pain of
transformation, stilling when soft lips press against my temple. “And then it’s been a
little over a day since you woke, and… Rosalie has been caring for Renesmee in your
absence…”

Edward stiffens and Alice stops explaining her thoughts any further. She doesn’t need to.
In a swift flash of dull memory, fragments of Rosalie begin piecing together in my head.
Selfishness, vanity, vicious love, and desire for something out of her reach. I know exactly
why Edward tensed as he did.

I storm quickly toward where Alice stands, unable to contain the rage and fear and
injustice pulsing through my body.

“She’s going to try to keep her!”

Edward grabs my elbow when I am two strides from reaching her. He can’t physically
stop me, but it’s enough to remind me that Alice isn’t the enemy.

I inhale sharply and exhale in a huff. The breath is meant to calm me down, but only
reminds me of the wicked desire I feel for my daughter’s blood. I swallow more venom
and reach behind me to touch Edward’s stomach, focusing on that pure good while I
attempt to calm my erratic emotions.

“That’s ridiculous,” Alice scoffs, ignoring my mild panic attack. “Rosalie knows you’re
Renesmee’s mother. She could just watch her until you were more capable–”

"That won’t work! Rosalie has always wanted a baby more than anything in the world.” I

realize how true that statement is as it shoots out of my mouth. Rosalie hates being a
vampire because she’ll never have a child. And I have provided her with an undeniable
opportunity.

“Well that’s true, but–”

“She’ll coddle and love my baby as her own, and she’ll try to keep her, and she can’t! She
can't have her! She’s mine!"

Her mouth opens, probably to further defend Rosalie and her idea, but before she can
speak, her eyes glaze over. Her posture stiffens as if her spine has turned to stone, and
she stands catatonic a foot in front of me with hands curled into fists at her sides. Almost
as quickly as the episode behinds, she relaxes and Edward tenses further.

“No!” he yells, ripping his hand from around my arm and leaping to his feet. The
unexpected volume makes me instinctually growl and curl into myself. They both ignore
my slip, focusing intently on each other. “That’s not what’s going to happen. No, just…
fuck, think of something else!”

Edward’s eyes bore into her in an obvious attempt to invade her mind, but Alice’s head is
just shaking from side to side, her eyes flitting erratically as she attempts to do something
beyond my comprehension. The nervous energy is putting me on edge. I leap quickly off
the porch, placing some careful distance between the charged pair and myself.

“It’s not changing, Edward,” she nearly whimpers. “It’s only getting stronger.”

I take an unintentional step closer, finally understanding what is going on. Alice is having
a vision, and Edward is furious.

“Try harder!” he sneers.

“You know it doesn’t work like that! Don’t scream at me like this is my fault.” Alice’s
voice is cold and final without being harsh, and after one purposeful look at Edward, she
turns gracefully on her toes before storming back into the house. I hear her frustrated
footsteps as she pauses where the others sit and asks Jasper to go upstairs with her.

Once a bedroom door slams shut, my focus shifts back to Edward.

I take two steps forward and Edward takes a step back, his hands pushing forcefully into
his hair as he leans against the porch railing. He is distressed and clearly panicking, but
gravely silent.

“Edward,” I ask, not willing to wait anymore for an answer, “what did she see?”

He shakes his head, lips pressed stubbornly together. He’s not talking. I’m not backing
down.

“I deserve to know,” I say more softly, trying a different method though my frustration
with him is quickly building.

“Bella.” My name slips from his mouth before he closes up again, his tone patronizing
and irritated. That is more than I can take right now.

“Damnit, Edward, what did she see?”

His head shoots up and his eyes lock on mine, and I nearly stumble when I see his
tortured expression. His gaze is glassy and somewhat unfocused, the obvious and subtle
changes in his face are staggering.

“Please?” I ask one last time, a broken plea.

Edward gives one long look to me and one long pull to his already stressed hair. When he
finally speaks, I can barely remain standing.

“We can’t keep her,” he whispers. “She saw that we’re going to give her up."


AN: Sorry for the cliffie... sort of heh.

Quick announcements: The lovely PippaPear from the Perv Pack Smut Shack
interviewed me this week, and I asked her some ridiculous things in return. Also
ElleCC wrote a piece for TLYDF's Reader Series (and I wrote a blurb about how
awesome she is). Both links are in my profile.

If you need some happiness to counter this angst, I high recommend "Maybe I'm
Amazed" by alicedances01. It's honestly too sweet for me to even do it justice. I'm
starting the next chapter *tonight*, so cross your fingers that inspiration lingers
for just a little while longer.

You all are too good to me. The reviews for the last chapter were extraordinary.


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Chapter: 7


AN: Umm, hi. It's been a while. I can't come up with an adequate excuse for the
wait, but know that it wasn't intentional. Thank you, Elle, for betaing, and
Christina and profmom72 for pre-reading.

Also, everyone go read "Mind's Eye" by lambently. It's in my favorites and is
spectacular with not nearly enough reviews.

ETA: FORMATTING FAIL, THX FFNET. HERE'S THE CHAPTER FOR REAL.

Disclaimer: Not mine.


Month Six

“You guys, I really don’t feel comfortable with this! What if we see someone we know?”

I shoved both of my hands into the front pocket of my hooded sweatshirt, the baggy fabric
nearly concealing my very noticeable baby belly. Edward’s sweatshirts were too small to
hide my stomach, so I had Rosalie steal one for me from Emmett. Neither of the men had
been too happy about that.

Alice groaned again, rolling her eyes. “I told you that there’s nothing to worry about. I
would have seen something like that.”

Rosalie and Alice had decided while I was sleeping that we needed a girls’ day in Port
Angeles. I tried several different excuses to get out of the trip; the car ride would make me
nauseated, shopping would stress me out, online shopping was much easier. Nothing
worked. I should have known better than to think I could say no to Alice. So there we
were, the four Cullen women walking around the wide aisles of a children's boutique.

Esme grabbed something off a rack with a soft gasp, holding up a green diaper bag that
was covered in small patches of zoo animals. Alice and Rosalie rushed over to her, and I
grinned in amusement at the three chatting women before wandering over to the clothing
department alone.

My eyes were immediately drawn to a dress that could have belonged to a Cabbage Patch
doll. A heart was woven in thin gold thread over the chest. Pink tulle peeked out from
under the tiny skirt, the fabric slightly scratchy against my fingertips. A soft smile pulled at
my cheeks as my thoughts drifted to Edward and the ultrasound from the week before.

The look on his face when the image flickered to life on the small screen was burned into
my memory. Our baby had not cooperated during the other scans, always curled into a
position that prevented us from seeing the sex, but not this time. If he could have cried, I
know he would have. Instead he just smiled and laughed breathlessly and then practically
leaped onto the bed beside me, pulling me into a hug that nearly robbed me of my breath.

“That’s beautiful, Bella!” No sooner had Alice squealed her approval than the little dress
was snatched from my fingers and tossed into the cart at her side. She moved ahead of me,
flipping through the racks of clothing and pulling out ones that she likes for my daughter.
Rosalie and Esme quickly joined her, occasionally holding up an item for my opinion or
encouraging me to choose my own favorites.

For some reason, I couldn’t seem to muster the same enthusiasm. I could tell that the
atmosphere was infectious. It was certainly more fun to shop for someone else, and my
instincts had been screaming at me to prepare our home for the baby nudging at my
stomach. Edward lightheartedly teased me whenever he came home from hunting to find
me cleaning off his bookshelf or vacuuming the rug.

But every time one of my sisters picked up something they assured me was necessary, I
could feel the dormant panic fluttering in my stomach. It didn't feel right shopping and
laughing like everything was okay when so much was still up in the air. Edward and I had
talked endlessly about little Renesmee, but somehow failed to discuss what was scaring me
the most.

This entire day was so optimistic, and I was… not.

A pair of Winnie the Pooh booties were thrust before my eyes, and I looked up to see Esme
smiling brightly. “The saleswoman told me her baby loves this bear. They’re absolutely
precious, aren’t they?”

“Sure,” I agreed, putting on a smile for her.

At the mention of her future granddaughter, for all intents and purposes, Esme came to
life. Her eyes would brighten while her instincts went to work, her palpable desire to
prepare for Renesmee almost stronger than my own. She possessed the warmth that only a
mother could have, and my chest clenched tightly whenever I thought of all she had been
through. She had been blessed with the warmth of her own baby sleeping in her arms for
only a few days before her small bit of perfection had been ripped away. I could imagine
nothing worse than living to see your child die.

If forcing myself to take interest in this shopping trip could make her happy, then it was the
least I could do.

Grabbing a tiny pair of jeans from the rack beside me, I turned to her, attempting to push
away whatever was bringing me down today. “I can’t imagine someone being small
enough to fit in these.” I spun the hanger around in my hand, admiring the pink threaded
detail on the back pocket.

I glanced up at Esme to ask for her input, but she was frowning at me.

“What’s wrong, dear?”

"Nothing's wrong," I insisted. "It's a little crazy that I'm shopping for a baby, my baby,
but it's exciting." I took a few steps down the aisle and attempted to busy myself with a
folded pile of t-shirts.

"Bella," she sighed, at my side in an instant. Her cold arm wrapped around me, her
fingers gently squeezing my shoulders, and I felt myself slouch. Before my pregnancy I
could have kept on a brave face and refused to acknowledge what was bothering me, but
now it was a lost cause. I was too hormonal to hide my feelings.

Sinking into Esme's motherly embrace, I whispered, “What if she’s not okay?”

When I looked over, Esme seemed contemplative as she tried to figure out what I meant.
Her arm tightened around me, and she led me toward a display of mittens and winter
wear. Pushing a few caps aside, she sat on the white block and patted the space beside
her.

"Sit down. Let me know what you’re thinking.”

I stared at her strangely while taking slow steps. "Are we allowed to sit there?"

"What they don't know won't hurt them," she smiled.

With a quiet laugh, I sat down beside her. I took a few moments to gather my thoughts and
Esme didn't push. She stayed silent beside me while I pretended to shuffle through the
contents of my tote bag. How could I explain everything that was running through my
mind? How could I put into words that every time I thought of Renesmee as a living,
breathing child, my heart raced and a cold sweat broke out on my brow? God, it even
sounded melodramatic in my head.

"The baby-" I started, but the words fell flat. My right hand had drifted to my round
stomach for comfort while my left toyed with the hem of the pocket of my sweatshirt. “What
if... what if everything doesn't work out like we hope it will?"

Esme pressed her palm against my upper back. "She seems very healthy so far."

"But that's just it. All of this is running so smoothly, but we really don't know anything, do
we? We think she's human, but would we be able to tell otherwise?" After holding these
fears in for months, the words now slipped out unfiltered and rushed. My cheeks burned
with the exertion of my quick speech and my breathing sped up as I listed ridiculous fear
after ridiculous fear. "And what if something else is wrong that they can't catch on the
ultrasound? What if she's deformed? Or what if she's completely healthy like we think, and
Edward and I just aren't good parents?"

If I didn't slow down I was going to give myself a panic attack, so I paused to take some
proper breaths. My chest rose and fell rapidly, and I shoved the baggy sleeves up to my
elbows to cool myself down.

“Have you talked to Edward about this?” Esme asked while I was attempted to calm
down.

I lowered my head into my hands and focused on what was necessary at the moment.
Breath in, breathe out.

Edward had been coming to me with his fears for the first time in our relationship. He
would lay his head in my lap and speak in quiet whispers while I ran my fingers through
his hair. These purging sessions relaxed us both, but I had been a surprisingly reluctant
participant. With all of the problems we'd experienced in the last few months, I had been
hesitant to bring more uncertainty into our lives.

“Some of it?" The questioning tone of my voice betrayed the truth. With a helpless chuckle,
I rubbed my eyes and spoke softly, "He tries so hard to be strong for me. I don’t want to
stress him out over my silly fears.”

I waited for the typical reaction. Your fears aren't silly. You should be able to talk to your
husband. But instead, Esme said the one thing that would really get through to me.

“He loves you so much, Bella.”

The sincerity with which she spoke brought a small smile to my face. “And I love him.”

“As you know, Bella, I had a child." Her voice was heavy with ancient sadness, though
her face stayed pleasantly clear. "I know how you feel. I've experienced some of those
fears myself. But there’s no point in worrying about things out of our control.” I finally
made genuine eye contact and almost teared up at her compassionate stare. "All you can
do is enjoy this blessing while it's here."
My fingers tapped softly against my belly, and I giggled when tiny feet kicked back. Esme's

arm moved over my shoulder again and we huddled together in a half hug. "Thank you
for listening, Esme," I sighed. Once we straightened out, I pressed my hands against the
block beneath me and pushed myself up until I was standing. The urge to nest that had
been stifled by my fears was growing again. I wanted to shop for my baby. I wanted to
shop. It was like hell had frozen over.

"And Bella?" I looked back over my shoulder at Esme, confused about what else she
would want to say. She raised an eyebrow and lifted her lips into an intimidating smirk.
"Don't underestimate Edward. We both know he would want you to come to him."

I nodded in agreement and smiled, enjoying the rationality that had again taken over my
mind. Moving up the aisles, I gathered a few tiny hangers in my hand. I looked around the
store for Alice, wanting her advice and her cart, but my eyes were quickly drawn to a
small display of plush animals where Rosalie stood alone.

Her golden eyes scanned greedily over the pile of toys, her fingers drifting over the soft
velvet. While she busied herself with the selection, I watched as her other hand slowly
moved from its place at her side to her abdomen. Her movements mirrored my own as
she felt around her flat stomach, as if she were trying to connect with something beneath
her skin.

"Rosalie?"

As soon as I spoke, her arm dropped and her eyes shot to mine. I was bewildered that she
seemed genuinely surprised by my presence. A wave of unease ran through me as I
wondered how distracted she had to be to not notice my approach. She was a vampire,
after all. Rosalie stood up straight and glanced over at the display once more before
grabbing a fuzzy white puff from the pile.

“Do you like this one?” she asked innocently, holding up a stuffed dog.

I smiled, pushing my uneasy feeling from before aside. This was Rosalie. I had no reason
not to trust her.
“Yes.”




Present


"No."
Edward leans silently against the porch banister, shaking his head in even movements. His

seemingly calm demeanor hides his panic, but I can see the strain. His fingers play silent
music against the side of his thigh. His eyes shift from focus point to focus point while
his quick mind tries to sort through the options. I faintly recall seeing this expression, his
features stiff as he restrains his panic, but never like this.
"No," I repeat when he still doesn't respond, "we're not doing that. No."
I walk backward until my heels hit wood. Leaning backward against the column, I let
myself briefly consider what this means. Alice's vision are subjective and they change as
minds do. What have we done that twisted fate toward this awful conclusion? Who
decided this was the only way? I sink into my thoughts for a long moment until Edward's
quiet voice snaps my attention back to his tired face.
"She's beautiful, Bella." His whisper is like a confession as he describes Alice's vision.
"She looks about three or four, and she's just beautiful."
I can't bear to hear him speak. His voice is so hopeless that I feel something reminiscent
of nausea. "Stop it, Edward."
"She has my hair color, but your beautiful brown eyes, and the cutest freckles on her little
nose and cheeks..."
"Edward, stop!" My hands twine into my hair and I pull. The roots refuse to give way to
my strong grip but I continue to yank, trying to force this possibility out of my head.
The pain is satisfying.
In a flash Edward is close to me again, wrapping his fingers around my wrists and guiding
my hands back down to my sides. "Please don't hurt yourself. I can't watch that." I glance
up at him with pouted lips, disappointed and furious because he isn't even fighting this.
"So what, are you just accepting this? That's it?" I snap at him. The anger causes venom
to pool on my tongue and I turn my head to spit on the ground. This saccharine liquid is a
curse and the taste is just a reminder.
His eyes narrow in frustration as his grip tightens around my wrists. "You know me
better than that, Bella."
The guilt immediately drowns my anger. The change has left me volatile, and for some
reason Edward is the repeated victim of my backlash. He deserves so much better than a
wife who hurts him and can't even be around her daughter. I wallow, distraught as only
Edward can make me, until a distinct rush of calm floods through my muscles, relaxing me
body and mind. I sigh and embrace this subdued aggression. My mood swings are even
confusing myself.
"Thanks, Jasper," I mutter before scooting forward and resting my forehead against
Edward's chest. Taking a few calming breaths of his heady scent, I regather my focus.
"We just need to be logical about this," I state blankly against his shirt. "What exactly did
you see in her vision?" He opens his mouth to speak, but I interrupt him with one last
thought. "Please... only what I need to know." He nods, probably not wanting to recite
the more heartbreakingly descriptive details.
"It wasn't very distinct, but rather a few different visions blending together. You and I
alone in our meadow, melancholic and unmoving. Our daughter as I described her earlier
running around your father's backyard with one of the Clearwaters, the mother." My head
snaps up at that, but he continues with an ominous gulp. "Charlie sending our obituaries

into the Forks Forum."
"Wait, Charlie?" I ask, ignoring the darker pieces of the vision for now.
"Charlie," he nods and tightens his fingers around my own.
My brow furrows. "But... none of that makes any sense." Obituaries, the meadow, Sue
Clearwater?
"I don't exactly understand it myself, but that's what she saw." His cool breath tickles my
forehead
Alice's visions are subjective, I remind myself, but it doesn't help ease the fear settling
itself in my gut, causing me to break my hands from Edward's only so I can hold his body
closer. In a past life, I followed "Never bet against Alice" as a rule, but that was before
my world flipped on end. That was before I was a mother.
"We're not going to let that happen, right?" I plead, resting my chin against his chest.
"Not if we can help it."
Before we can further discuss our options, a low roar grips my attention and draws my
eyes in the direction of the distant road.
I hear the car before I see it, the ridged tires creaking against pebbles on the driveway. The
sound is unmistakable, from the low humming engine to the perfect fingernails tapping
against the leather wheel, but it lacks the burning scent it carried away from me when it
last spun out of my sight. I know what that means. Rosalie is home. Renesmee is not.
My anger immediately flares up again and I step away from Edward to glare toward the
sound. I want to intercept the red BMW as it rolls up the driveway and force Rosalie to
bring my baby back to me, but Edward's fingers gently gripping my shoulder and the
influx of calming waves from Jasper remind me that I need to stay composed.
Finally, the M3 rounds the corner and I can see Rosalie as she comes to a slow stop in
front of the garage. That's all it takes for my patience to run out.
"Where is she?" I yell before she even emerges from the car.
"Calm down," she sighs patronizingly as she cracks open the door and leisurely rises from
her seat. "She's with Esme in Sequim." The air from the interior of the car wafts toward
me, and Rosalie is absolutely drenched in Renesmee's delicious scent. It's not nearly as
potent as when she was here before me, but it's enough to heighten my instability and
bring the venom flowing around my teeth.
Huffing loudly, I speak through my clenched teeth. "You can't just take my child without
asking, Rosalie."
"It's not like you can spend time with her," she shoots back, rolling her eyes.
Edward starts to react behind me; I'm so attuned to him that I can feel the air shift as his
posture stiffens and his legs tense in preparation of a threat. Somehow knowing exactly
where he'll be, I thrust my arm back and place a hand on his chest to stop him. This battle
is my own.
"That is a temporary problem and you know it," I seethe, trying desperately to keep the
hurt out of my voice. My insecurities scream she's right... it's true but I push those
thoughts away. Rosalie is intimidating enough without me cowering from myself.
Rosalie struts toward us, plastic heels clicking against the pavement until she's no more
than four feet away. I can feel her breath when she exhales through her nose in annoyance.

"And what about until then? What's your plan? Play absent mother for a year or two then
just jump in and pretend like you were there?"
"Rosalie!" Alice gasps from the porch, startling me slightly with her rapid approach. A
quick glance to my left shows me that the entire family has gathered to watch the fight, all
sporting different horrified expressions. Emmett looks tortured and I know he is
struggling with adverse loyalties.
I turn back to my so-called sister. My foot creeps forward into an aggressive stance, my
spine curving forward as I fight the urge to bear my teeth.
"She's. Not. Your. Daughter."
For the first time since she returned, Rosalie shows genuine emotion when she leans
toward me and snarls, "She might as well be."
Several things happen at that moment, but my heightened mind tracks it all. A loud growl
rips into the air and then Edward is in front of me, his shoulder pressing against my chest
and his arms stretched out in front of my body in protection. Emmett leaps toward
Rosalie in a similar fashion, but the slightly coherent part of me doesn't blame him for
defending his wife. It's instinct, something I'm learning to both fear and appreciate. I hear
Jasper groan in exertion as he attempts to smooth out the tense atmosphere, but it is less
effective than before. No one speaks, but four rumblings growls continue to fill the space.
Calmer than the rest of us, Edward eventually softens his stance and breaks the silence in
a low threat. "Renesmee is our daughter, Rosalie, and once Bella can safely be around
humans again, we will raise our daughter together. Neither of us is willing to risk her
safety for our own selfish need to be with her."
In a handful of words, Edward manages to make it all sound simple. Rosalie answers
immediately, biting back at Edward with some stubborn quip while the rest of the family
buzzes their opinions, but I don't pay attention. I am completely caught up in what all of
this means.
One year and I will be able to hold my baby in my arms.
The idea of being with Renesmee has been so abstract that the real possibility leaves me
incapable of breathing, not that my body requires that kind of nourishment. The thought
is less comforting than I would have expected, and a stiff chill runs through me when I
allow myself to think past that point for the first time.
One year and I will be able to hold my baby in my arms.
And then what?
Will Edward and I raise a human daughter among an unchanging family of vampires?
Will our little girl grow up with a nineteen-year-old mother and a seventeen-year-old
father, quickly gaining on and eventually surpassing us?
Once the doubts begin to creep into my mind, I cannot stop them from expanding and
twisting into every part of my thoughts. It's overwhelming, but I can't fight it.
Will our small family spend her childhood moving from place to place, hiding from
intuitive humans and the ancient vampires in Italy who would surely protest the existence
of a child who knows their secret?
The Volturri were a lurking danger during the last two years of my human life, a very real
threat of what could come from mingling with vampires. Somehow during our numerous

discussions, fuzzy as they may be in my head, Edward and I failed to consider their role
in our dilemma.
If they learn about Renesmee, will they kill her?
I shrink away from Edward without thought because the answer is obvious, and I am
ashamed for my past naiveté. Yes. They would kill her without thought.
Neither of us is willing to risk her safety for our own selfish need to be with her.
Edward's words ring loudly in my ears as all of these questions circle throughout my
head. As long as she is a human living among vampires, my Renesmee will never be
completely safe. The dizzying realization draws a desperate but quiet sob from my
throat. Renesmee will never be safe, and that agonizing truth sets Alice's vision into
motion. The words slip softly from my lips as soon as they root themselves in my mind.
"We can't keep her."
The hum of conversation falls silent in an instant. The whispering trees and the hum of
nature seems out of place amidst the silence.
Edward turns and gently palms my shoulder, his beautiful lips turned down into an ugly
frown. "Bella, what are you saying?" he asks, breathy and confused.
Even his voice isn't enough to change my mind. "Alice's vision was right. We can't keep
her. It's not safe."
I can't look directly into Edward's desperately pained eyes, and as the questions fly
toward me from every direction I realize that I have a lot of explanations to provide, but
with every word I speak the right decision becomes clearer. Everything becomes clearer. I
understand why Edward left me in the forest after my eighteenth birthday. I understand
the extent of unconditional love, and most of all, I realize why Alice's vision has to pass.
Because I would rather spend every day aching for my daughter than to put her in that
kind of danger.


1. After chatting with my dear love Kelly, I decided that in the BB world, Alice can
see the Quileutes who aren't werewolves. Therefore she can see Sue Clearwater
when she's not with her kids. My last note on the plot is that this has been planned
since before I set metaphorical pen to paper.

2. In my accidental hiatus, I did post two one-shots and the first chapter of a brand
new (sorta) novella called Memoria in Aeterna. It's complete so updates will be
every two days.

3. Thanks so much for your reviews and patience. I will make a genuine effort to
respond this time, but know that your reviews made me want to write when I was
ready to give up :)

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Chapter: 8


AN: Inspiration struck for this one in the strangest place, and I ended up typing
the second half on the car ride to NYC. Thank you all again for your patience. Elle
betaed. You should all give her a high five.

Disclaimer: I don't own it.





Month Seven

“It hurts, Edward,” I moaned again in discomfort.

“I know, love,” he murmured into my ear, his smooth voice steady and calming. Despite
this composure, I knew he was as concerned as I was. He tended to handle my pain worse
than I did. We sat together on our bed, my aching back leaning against his chest and his
hands attempting to rub some calm into my tense arms.

“This doesn’t feel right, Edward. It’s too early! She can’t be here yet.” Right then another
small contraction pulled and hunched me forward. They had been coming irregularly for
the last two hours, not exactly a sign of labor but troublesome nonetheless.

“I’m sure they’re just Braxton-Hicks contractions.” I recognized the term, something
vague and familiar from the pages of What to Expect When You’re Expecting, but it
didn’t soothe my worry at all.

The pain released me, and I slouched back against my husband. He twisted the hair away
from my neck and pressed a lingering kiss against my clammy skin. Shifting slightly in his
arms until I could see him, I asked, “Where’s Carlisle? He said he would be here by
now.”

“Do you not trust me, Bella?” A small, teasing smile crept onto his face as he let his
fingers graze over my swollen belly. If he was making jokes, I knew nothing could be
seriously wrong, but that didn’t stop me from scowling at him.

“Some confirmation from a practicingdoctor would be nice,” I snapped, twisting again so
I didn’t have to see his smirk. I hated that he would tease me when I was so obviously
panicking. Despite my annoyance, my hand drifted atop his, our fingers linking together
above our baby. I guess some small part of me still knew I was being irrational.

Edward had learned by now how to handle me when the hormones made me irritable. His
chin nestled gently into the crook of my neck while his free wrapped loosely around me
below my breasts. “Isabella, you know I have a penchant for overreaction.” I scoffed at
the extreme understatement, some of my anger already slipping away when I felt his cheek
lift into a smile against mine. “Believe me when I say that this kind of contraction is
completely normal for a woman at this stage in her pregnancy. They’re often frightening
for the mother, but they’re harmless. I promise.”

“Well, if you insist,” I mumbled, not wanting to show how easily I had caved. He was
forgiven and he knew it, laughing and giving me a light squeeze.

“I love you too, my wife.”

Suddenly, Edward loosened his hold, his hands returning to caress my upper arms. A few
seconds later, I heard Carlisle’s quiet footsteps as he opened the door. For once, he
looked like the 23-year-old man that he was, in a navy sweater and some gray dress
pants. I almost felt bad for interrupting his free time, but not really. Seven months of
pregnancy had made me a little selfish.

“How are you feeling, Bella?”

“Achy. Scared. Nervous.” To name a few. Carlisle’s gaze drifted behind me to Edward,
and for a moment, no one spoke as the two of them did that annoying ESP communication
thing.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Edward muttered in response to the silence, confirming my
suspicions and pissing me off again.

“Stop that,” I whined loudly. “No mind reader conversations.”

Both men laughed in surprise at my uncharacteristic outburst, and I folded my arms atop
my stomach in annoyance. “I’m sorry. That was really unfair of both of us,” Carlisle
admitted. “I agree with Edward that these seem to just be Braxton-Hicks contractions.
They’re very common and it’s likely that you’ll experience them again before you go into
labor.”

“Great,” I sighed.

He smiled sympathetically. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but you know you’re in great
hands with us. Three medical degrees in this house, and that’s not even including my own
handful.” I couldn’t help my giggle. It was unusual for Carlisle to sound so cocky. “Is
there anything else concerning you?”

“No, that was it,” Edward answered for me. He and Carlisle spoke a little longer before
Carlisle left the room, but my mind was elsewhere.

The fear had been overwhelming when I felt the first contraction, more overwhelming than
I would have expected. Part of the reason was obvious. Of course, I was terrified for
Renesmee. I had read enough to know the dangers of premature birth, but I trusted
Edward and Carlisle despite my mini-freak out. They would take care of her.

Then what was it? Why was I so scared?

I had imagined holding Renesmee in my arms more times than I could count. In my vision,
Edward stood behind me as the proud father, positively beaming at the two ladies in his
life. Despite my daydreams, this was the first time it had felt like a tangible possibility, and
that previously happy idea suddenly scared the hell out of me. What would have happened
if the contractions hadn’t been Braxton-Hicks? What would we have done? We had spent
so much time talking about the pregnancy and her health that somehow we had neglected
to talk about our plans once she was with us.

The panic swelled again in my chest, and I clung to my lifeline before it got out of control.

“Edward?” I asked, blindly feeling for his hand behind me. His fingers slid easily into

mine and guided our joined hands to my thigh. He pressed one more kiss against my neck,
then another, then another before answering.

“Yes, love?”

I gulped, trying to ignore how good his lips felt against my skin. Now was not the time.
“What would we have done if this wasn’t just false labor? What if Renesmee had been
born today?”

“You heard Carlisle. Everything is fine,” he answered dismissively, his grip on my hand
tightening slightly as his mouth became more insistent. He thought I was still worrying
about the contractions, but this fear was different. This was more important.

“I’m serious, Edward. What would we have done?”

His trail of kisses stalled against my shoulder as my words sunk in. He released a heavy
breath, the cool air lifting goosebumps along my damp skin, and then rested back against
the headboard. “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about that yet, have we? What
we’re going to do once she’s here.”

“No, we haven’t,” I whispered back.

For a few moments, we were silent as we both struggled with our thoughts, but wallowing
together was no better than wallowing apart. This was something we needed to do as a
team. I said the first concrete thought I had, the words slipping from my lips as soon as
they’d settled in my mind.

“You won’t be able to change me. Not as soon as we’d hoped, anyway.”

“No. Definitely not,” he agreed almost immediately. The implications of that alone were
devastating. Edward would stay flawlessly seventeen as the years altered my body.
Eventually he would look too young to be my husband. He had always said it wouldn’t
affect how he felt about me, and I knew I would love him endlessly, but it would certainly
complicate things.

I couldn’t let myself be distracted by each problem as it came to light, so I asked another
question that had weighed heavily on my conscious for a while.

“Is it even safe to raise a child around vampires?” I shuddered, thoughts of Jasper’s
violent reaction to a paper-cut flashing behind my closed lids.

Apparently, Edward and I were on the same wavelength. “We’ll take her somewhere
else,” he stated firmly. “We’ll start a life somewhere, just the three of us.”

“Just the three of us.”

That should have been it. Problem solved. But it didn’t feel resolved, and Edward’s next
words told me that he felt it as well. There were more issues with our situation than either
of us wanted to admit.

“I won’t age. Even when she does, I won’t.”

Of course not. Just as I would age without Edward, so would our daughter. “Can a child
keep a secret of that magnitude?” Children are known to share secrets, but usually that
just leads to some embarrassment for the parents. If Renesmee told anyone that her father
was a vampire, we would have to move. If another vampire found out that a child knew
their secret, we'd have much bigger problems.

“I don’t know,” Edward whispered back. "She'll be so young."

Silence again. His arms slipped around me again, and I gripped him for comfort. Time
had never been on our side. This was devastatingly clear now.

“What if…” he started but trailed off, letting his words die on his tongue.

“No, tell me. Please?” I was desperate for some kind of resolution.

Edward pressed his lips against my temple, resting his forehead against the side of my
head. “What if we raise her together until she’s old enough to talk, and then… I go away
for a while?”

“Edward…” I whispered, my heart already breaking at the thought.

“Not forever, just for a while. Let her grow and learn and be a normal child until she’s
old enough to grasp how important it is to keep our secret. Until it’s safe for us to be a
family again.”

Tears choked my voice when I whispered, “That could take years.”

His silence confirmed my statement.

Nothing more was said for a long while after that. Edward shifted us forward and guided
us both down onto our backs on the bed. He rolled onto his side, and I let my head drift
toward him. It was our first day in the meadow all over again. His fingers drifted along
the contours of my face, tracing the few freckles and scars that he’d long since memorized.
I focused my attention on his face as well, hoping to capture the way he looked right now,

his eyes burning with unconditional love for the two of us before him.

Eventually our fingers met between us on the blanket. The back of his right hand brushed
over my stomach, and his eyes lit up again when she kicked against the movement.

“She’s worth it,” I sighed, resigned to the fact that things would never be easy for us, but
that I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

He agreed with a serious nod, like I knew he would. “Without a doubt.”


Present

My feet drag heavily across the leaf riddled forest floor. With Edward's palm pressed
tightly against my own and our knuckles interlocked, we tread slowly toward our
destination.

The soggy ground gargles and groans beneath our feet. It says what I cannot. The words
finally abandoned me several hours ago when the plans were laid out and all we could do
was wait. If this was going to work, it had to be on their terms, closer to their land.

Several yards ahead, Carlisle's steps slow and then stop all together by a large oak tree.
He turns to us and nods, acknowledging the line that sits like an invisible fence before
him.

We had deliberated for nearly two days, trying to find a way to put Alice's vision into
motion. Esme kept Renesmee safe in a small hotel sixty miles away. Rosalie had stormed
off, a regretful Emmett behind her once she'd realized I had made up my mind. My
daughter was not meant to be raised by vampires, and that included Rosalie Hale. The
solution had come in the early morning haze, when hints of sunlight were visible through
the muggy fog. No one wanted to involve the wolves, but Alice insisted it was our best
chance. Though she couldn't see the actual encounter, Renesmee's future remained
unchanged, and that was all we had to go on. Carlisle placed the call to Sam and now here
we are, at the Quileute border, waiting for the wolves. Waiting for Sam Uley... and Jacob.

The thought of seeing my old friend again makes my immortal stomach twist anxiously. I
don't notice how tightly I'm squeezing Edward's hand until he pulls his fingers from mine
and wraps an arm around my shoulders. My own arm finds his waist and I cling to him-
in apology for hurting his hand, in sadness for our daughter, in fear of the impending
meeting. Most of my attachment to Jacob had withered away during my change, but I still
felt guilt for what I'd done to him. I also know that by turning me instead of letting me
die, Edward had broken the long-standing treaty. Carlisle insists that the wolves are civil
enough to at least hear our pleas. Last year's battle had tentatively forged a relationship

between enemies. We can only hope that will help us now.

Alice stands unusually still by Jasper's side, giving us the space we need in these last
quiet minutes. We both know what needs to be done, but it's tearing Edward down too.
Together, we can stay standing. We take comfort in each other's skin, and focus on that
together. For the moment, words have failed him, too.

"They're here," Edward mutters, finally breaking our self-imposed silence when the pack
comes into his range. Everyone straightens into protective stances, although our hands
slip together again between us.

The rest of us soon hear the prodding of paws as they approach. There is a strange
murmur as a few wolf bodies recede into human forms, a comforting sign of peace, and
then I can see them. I can smellthem, every bit as putrid as Edward described, and I have
to fight the urge to grimace.

Sam stands at the front with Jacob close at his side. Four wolves follow, maybe twenty
feet behind the alpha and beta. A hand tightens around mine, and Edward guides me
behind him. I start to protest, but his lips meet my ear and barely whisper, "It'll be better
if they don't fully see you at first."

Carlisle takes a step toward the border, waiting patiently for them to make the first move.
From under Edward’s arm, I can see Jacob staring in my direction, jaw set tight in
restraint. He can sense something is different. The wolves can surely smell another
vampire in their midst, and their postures have adjusted accordingly. No one speaks. If
they react poorly to me, we have no hope.

After a tense moment, Sam finally steps across the border into neutral territory, greeting
Carlisle with a stiff nod.

“We asked you here today not as enemies, but as friends in a crisis.”

Jacob’s eyes flit toward Edward again but he otherwise stands still.

“There is no doubt you have helped us in the past,” Sam states seriously. “What is your
problem?”

“As you all know, Edward and Bella were married last August. They honeymooned in the
Caribbean and returned to us two weeks later.”

“Why are you telling us this?”

“Apparently there are certain aspects of vampiric biology of which we were not aware.

Less than a month after their return, Bella began feeling nauseous. Soon after that, Edward
was able to detect the heartbeat of a fetus in her womb.”

The pack of men and one woman erupt at that moment, asking several angry questions at
once and glaring at Edward and me as if we are an abomination. I guess in some ways,
they're right. Our hands clasp together more tightly as Edward fights the urge to lash out.
I can feel his restraint in my skin.

“Please, just let me finish,” Carlisle asks tiredly. Sam turns and growls sharply at the
group behind him. They fall immediately silent at the alpha’s command. Once they settle,
Sam turns back to Carlisle, nodding his head to tell Carlisle to continue. “The pregnancy
was standard, lasting approximately nine months. The child was born last week and is
perfectly healthy. Unfortunately, Bella did not fare as well. During delivery, the placenta
detached too early and she began to hemorrhage. When it was certain that she would die
without some supernatural intervention, my son took action.”

With that, Edward pulls me slowly beside him and into full view of the pack. Sam’s face
drops instantly, his hands clenching tightly at his sides. The low growl of the wolves
looms threateningly on the other side of the border. “Surely you know that this violates
the treaty.”

“Yes,” Carlisle admits immediately, “and we make no excuses. But we must ask for your
assistance on one last thing before you decide how to deal with our breach of the treaty.”

Sam continues to stare aggresively even as the wolves growl and snap their jaws. His
silence gives Carlisle a small window to make his case. Our case.

“The infant is fully human. After much discussion, we all agree that it would be both
irresponsible and wrong to keep a child in a house of vampires. We would like to get the
child into the custody of Charlie Swan. It would be the best thing for her. It’s possible to
get her there without your help, but it would be much faster and much safer for the girl
with your assistance.”

The pause that follows is lengthy and stiff. Sam and Jacob stand still in contemplation
while the pack mutters behind them, one of them occasionally sending a sharp growl in
Edward's direction. The civil air now breathes hostility. Jasper's calming attempts are
falling flat, and even Carlisle is starting to look defeated. This isn't right. This can't be it.

Without much conscious thought, I am moving forward and out of Edward's protection. I
feel his fingers grab again for mine, but I shake them off. Renesmee makes me lose
common sense, and this is blatantly apparent as I walk toward the beta, my palms open
in submission. Seconds later, I stand before him. He stares past me as if I'm not even
there. All I can think of is my daughter and Edward and how much we need their help. I

don't want to find a second choice.

So, I plead, shameless and desperate. I would fall to my knees if I thought it would help.
“Please, Jacob. She's the most important thing in my life. I need her to be safe." My voice
stays steady until these final words. I have no right to ask this of him. I know that. Still,
my voice shakes with unsheddable tears as I beg for one last favor from my old friend.
"Please….”

Jacob's hard eyes flicker almost imperceptibly. His hand falls into a loose fist while he
blinks slowly. For a second we are back to how we were, before werewolves and my
vampire made us enemies.

“Come on, Sam,” he mutters, to my impossible relief. "We exist to protect innocent lives.
They've already destroyed one. It's only right we save one more if we can."

I can't even flinch at his harsh assessment of my transformation. Jacob meets my eye one
last time and nods. The harsh line of his mouth softens into the closest I will get to a
smile from him, and the sight nearly sets off my frantic emotions. I retreat into Edward's
waiting arms and let his large hands hold me together.

“We will help you get the child into a safe home," Sam says with finality. "You have
helped us in the past and we do not forget our allies. But after this, all ties between our
two groups shall be severed. We must insist that you leave this area permanently.”

“That is fair,” Carlisle agrees, and I can hear as the relief warms his voice. Edward's arms
tighten around me, but in calm rather than tension.

“Now, what exactly did you have in mind?”

-----

The run back to the house is full of heavy acceptance. Two deer and a groundhog fall
victim to my thirst, and Edward never moves far from my side. He hunts lazily, but
mostly watches as I move. My clothes are mostly intact when I am satiated, a far cry
from the tattered pieces remaining after my first hunt.

The Quileutes had quickly agreed to Alice's plan. My family had worked with them,
figuring out the details, and now everything is ready. Renesmee will be taken to the
reservation tomorrow. It's real. This is actually happening and my head can't seem to
grasp it. It's all so soon.

I'm not ready.

A mile from the house, Edward freezes, his hand tightening around my waist as a snarl
pulls at his lips. I stare up at him, confused until he spits out, "Rosalie and Emmett are
back."

Rage burns in my chest at her name, but it quickly fades. I don't have the will to fight
anymore. It's not worth it.

"Well, it's not like we can avoid her forever," I mumble.

Edward frowns down at me and I press my finger over the crease in his forehead. "Hey," I
whisper. "It'll be okay."

I move my hand down to his jaw, smiling slightly when he tilts his head into my touch.

"All right."

We walk together through the brush until we see the house. The first sight of long blonde
hair sitting on the porch draws a resentful growl from my chest, but Edward's thumb
against my palm brings my focus to a happier place. We move up the steps, intending to
head wordlessly to our room for some much needed time spent wallowing on our bed. A
small voice stops me before we reach the door.

"You were right."

My jaw clenches stubbornly, though I know that's her way of apologizing. "I know that."

"She'll be safer."

"Oh really? What finally convinced you?" I ask sarcastically. It's childish, and I'm
probably baiting her, but I can't seem to care.

Surprisingly, she doesn't react. "I talked to Emmett," she says in that same small voice.

"Oh."

I don't have another answer for her. I'm not ready to get over this and I certainly can't
pretend she didn't act the way she did. Gripping my husband more tightly, I take another
step toward the door.

Before I can continue into the house, she speaks one more time.

"This is... hard for me too, Bella. I know it's not an excuse, but it's true."

I look to Edward, calming when he squeezes my hand, and then peer down to the porch.
Rosalie sits quietly, eyes fixed firmly on her feet. She does not resemble the aggressive
person who staked her claim on my daughter and insulted me for things out of my
control. She is simply a woman desperate for a child she will never have. And as much as
I'd like to hate her, I can't. I don't have the strength for that kind of emotion.

"I know, Rosalie." I almost step toward her, but change my mind, clinging to my husband
instead. She doesn't have my forgiveness, but she has my pity. And for the first time, my
empathy. "I know."


AN: So since I last posted, I posted a novella called "Memoria in Aeterna". You
should check it out.

Only two chapters left. With some luck inspiration/motivation will linger for
longer than two days. I promise you'll figure out exactly what their plan is
Renesmee.


Leave a review. I'll give you a hug and a tissue.


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Chapter: 9


No, your eyes are deceiving you. This is an actual, relatively quick update. Believe
me, I'm as surprised as you are. Thanks so much, as always, for the reviews on the
last chapter. I'll keep handing out the tissues until this wraps up.

Elle, my love for you will never recede ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own them.


Month Eight

My feet were swollen to the point of near pain.

My stomach was so round that I waddled when I walked, even though Edward would tell
you otherwise.

My hair hadn’t been properly brushed in a week, because throwing it into a messy bun
was just so much easier, and I couldn’t lie in one position for more than an hour without
having to move.

But at this moment, sitting with Edward on the front porch of the Cullen house, it was hard
to remember all those terrible things that came along with being eight months pregnant. It
was too peaceful here. I was too content.

My feet had long since taken their place on Edward’s lap, and I closed my eyes to relish
the sensation of his cold thumbs. The cushions of the porch swing were soft underneath my
sore body. The early summer breeze drifted over my face, keeping me at a relatively
comfortable temperature. My husband’s low humming filled my ears, and when I splayed
my fingers over my bellybutton, I could feel Renesmee’s tiny feet kicking against my hand.

This had to be the closest thing to heaven on earth.

Edward’s humming faded into quiet song, and I smiled when I heard the lyrics to “Brown
Eyed Girl” slipping through his lips. “Hey where did we go, days when the rains came,
down in the hollow, playing a new game…”

“I thought you didn’t like sixties music,” I teased, tapping along with Renesmee and the
silent beat of his song.

“I like good music,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I won’t exclude some gems simply because
the rest of the decade had no taste.”

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help but smile at the passion in his voice. “How noble of
you.” He just chuckled, making me sigh in relief when he pressed more firmly against the
arch of my foot. He really had perfected that technique. I didn’t understand how women
with normal husbands got through this.

A moment later his hands were gone, my feet gently resting against the seat, and I could
feel his cool breath through my tank-top. He pushed the fabric up so my stomach was
exposed, dancing his fingers over the taut skin.

Edward kissed beside his pinky, sending a warm flutter through my limbs. I opened my
eyes to find him smiling up at me.

“I’m so happy she has your eyes.”

My heart fluttered at the statement, though I longed to see our daughter as he had, clear
and healthy in Alice’s clipped visions. They’d started to appear to her, scattered but there,
once we developed a more specific plan for after her birth. Edward had described her to
me in as much detail as he could, but it wasn’t the same. I had to remind myself that in one
month, I could hold her in my arms and stare at her lovely face as much as I wanted.

“Well I’m happy she has your hair.” I grinned, running my fingers roughly through his
mane and smiling wider when it stuck up in every direction. I imagined a baby girl with
that mess of hair and felt the longing pull again at my chest.

One month. Just one month.

Long fingers gently pinched the back of my leg, pulling me out of my moment, and I
shrieked in laughter at the unexpected tickle. He smiled at my laughter and pressed his ear
soundly to my belly. I gently smacked his head, though I know it stung me more than it
hurt him.

After a few quiet seconds, he broke the “Did you know that babies can hear sounds even
when still in the womb?”

I nodded and sarcastically muttered, “I read the book, too.”

Edward ignored my quip. He was used to that by now. Instead he turned his head, his lips
just brushing against my skin. A small smile crept onto his face, and he gave me one quick
glance before focusing on the large bump.

“Hello, Renesmee.”

As if I didn’t love him enough already.

His fingertips traced senseless pictures while he continued to whisper and melt my heart.
“Your mommy and I are so excited to see you. You and your beautiful brown eyes.”
Edward glanced up at me, probably waiting for my scoff, but I couldn’t even manage an
eye-roll or sarcastic comment. I was too captivated. I pushed the hair from his eyes gently,
waiting for him to say something else to her.

But he didn’t look away. He held my eyes and spoke to me with certainty. “She’s going to
be perfect, Bella.”

Tears filled my eyes, and I couldn’t even blame the hormones. I wanted to say something
light and teasing, like how no child of his could be anything but perfect, but it didn’t feel
right. So I settled with a simple, “I love you.”

He lifted his head to kiss my jaw. “I love you both.”

Edward turned his ear back to my belly, tracing pictures and singing quietly to himself. I
rested my head against the cushion and let myself fall back into the momentary calm.

“What was that?” he muttered right as I was drifting to sleep.

“I didn’t say anything,” I grumbled back.

He pushed himself up onto his elbow, and I opened one eye, sort of annoyed that he was
keeping me awake. “I swear I heard something.”

“It wasn’t me. I was almost napping.”

The corners of his mouth turned down slightly, his brow furrowing as he tried to figure
out where the apparent noise had come from. “The others are gone.”

“I really didn’t hear anything, Edward.”

A look of realization seemed to flit across his features, and his hands pressed loosely
against the sides of my stomach. His gaze moved across me as he seemed to make up his
mind. Then, in a quiet, restrained voice, he started to sing again.

“Laughin’ and a runnin’, hey, hey, skippin’ and a jumpin’”

His eyes widened when he finished the line. His fingers barely tightened against my skin,
and his lips parted. His expression defined awe, but he didn’t say anything for several
seconds.

“Edward?” I asked tentatively, a little concerned by his sudden silence.

“She likes the music,” he answered in a breathless chuckle. “She likes when I sing to
her.”

My breaths came slightly quicker as my pulse quickened, the sheer impossibility of his
words making me a little shaky. “What- what are you saying? Is she speaking to you?”

He shook his head. “Not in words, no. But she’s… showing me? I can hear that she’s
happy when she hears the music.”

“Well, that’s because you have a beautiful voice,” I added lamely. The moment was too
intense, and I couldn’t properly express what I was feeling. It didn’t bother Edward in the
slightest. He absolutely exuded happiness, his euphoric face showing what happy tears

couldn’t.

His hand moved up to cup my cheek, and he whispered, “She loves when you talk, too.”
He quickly slid his hand down my shoulder and arm and placed my palm back on my
stomach. “That’s why she’s kicking.”

The tears fell unchallenged down my face. I couldn’t bear to speak; nothing I said could
match this bliss. I didn’t even try.

We didn’t know exactly what would happen once our daughter was finally with us, but
even if everything fell apart, we had moments like these to keep us going. We had
Renesmee to keep us going and the knowledge that no matter what, we were going to be
okay.

Edward swept his thumbs under my eyes, then leaned forward to press a lingering kiss
against my wet lips. He kissed me once more before settling back against my stomach, his
quiet voice and cool hands lulling me into a warm sleep.

“My brown eyes girls. You’re my brown eyed girls…”


Present

Everything is arranged.

In less than ten hours, Renesmee will be in the care of Sue Clearwater in La Push. From
there, the Quileutes will set the plan into motion. Our daughter will be delivered, along
with the official story, into the care of my father. And in accordance with the adjusted
treaty, we will have three days to evacuate our home and leave the Pacific Northwest
permanently.

I know I’ve felt intense pain before. The day Edward left my human self in the forest is
one of my strongest memories, and I can still feel the phantom hole that threatened to tear
me apart if I concentrate. But this won’t be dimmed by the thick lens of transformation. I
will hold the memory of losing her for the rest of my existence. It will never fade, even as
we learn to live again.

I don’t doubt our decision. My will has not faltered. It is the only path that will keep her
safe, and that is the most important factor.

But there is one thing I must do before she slips out of my grasp.

I cannot live an eternity without having seen my daughter.

The memories of her birth are fading every day. I can no longer recall her first cry or the
way she squirmed before I lost consciousness. All I really have is a brief glimpse of a
clenching fist emerging from a blanket, and this is not enough. At least with these eyes,
her image will be imprinted behind my lids.

Edward and I are quiet while we hunt, as we have been since the meeting with the wolves.
We’ve needed time to process our devastating reality. But I can’t stay silent any longer.
There simply isn’t time.

“I need to see her,” I whisper on a breath.

Edward’s head snaps up, his lean form stretching over the carcass of a buck. His light
eyes focus intently on my face, and I use the pause to make my case. “We’ve been
hunting for two hours. My stomach is full to bursting, so my thirst is as controlled as it
can be. And when we saw her a few days ago,” when I nearly tackled Rosalie to get to
her, “I saw her little hand and I paused. I paused, Edward. I don’t think it’s possible for
me to hurt her.”

It’s an exaggeration. We both know this. But my desperation for some kind of contact is
palpable, and this is literally our only chance.

He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. “You could hurt her.”

“I know,” I reply, stung by his blunt statement but very aware of how right he is.

“It could make it harder to say goodbye,” he says and again the honestly shines through
in his voice.

We stare at one another for an extended time, gold meeting red across a clearing. The
carnage between us is a chilling reminder of how we got here. We are a strange dichotomy,
natural predators by nature but retaining humanity by choice. And the human part of me
won’t let me follow reason this time.

“I need this, Edward.”

At once, Edward’s eyes flicker to life. The dead, defeated expression of the last several
hours has been replaced by something more serious and more sympathetic. I know he had
three days to spend time with Renesmee while the change left me immobile. Even if he
spent most of the days by my side, he had those hours. He had those moments, and I did
not.

I need this, and he knows.

“Okay,” he sighs, the sound more focused than relenting.

I thank him with a kiss.

- - - - -

Alice sees our phone call to Esme and makes it for us, giving me an hour to force as much
blood as I can down my protesting throat. By the time Edward hears of their arrival, I am
nearly nauseous. Whether this is from my gluttony or my nerves, I cannot say.

Edward’s arm wraps tightly around my waist, and he whispers instructions into my ear.
“Take a breath. We’ll be able to smell her soon.” I inhale deeply through my nose and
hold. This will limit my ability to speak, but I need to do what I can to fight my instincts.

“Grab my arm as tightly as you need to with your hands. Even if you damage it, it will
heal. Don’t worry about hurting me.”

I respond by gently squeezing his forearm.

We approach the house this way, my muscles tensing slightly as if they can sense the
blood in the air. Her heartbeat pounds like a siren song, but instead of drawing me in, it
gives me focus. That heartbeat defines her life. As long as it continues to pound, I have
not failed.

The absence of smell is disconcerting. It puts my other senses on edge, but I stifle that
instinct. I give Edward complete control of my body, focusing on his seemingly calm form
behind me instead of the way her essence clouds around me. Edward once described my
scent as a drug, and I realize now that his description was startlingly correct. Even
without a drop of human blood having ever touched my tongue, I am certain that nothing
will feel better than that hot blood sliding down my throat.

And then we enter the living room, where a faintly familiar bassinet sits before the couch,
and I remember myself. The bloodlust still pulses in the back of my throat, but I have
enough control. This is in no small part because of Jasper, who stands silently in the
corner, bombarding me with waves of fatiguing calm.

If bloodlust were the only barrier between me and my daughter, we would have been
okay. I am both comforted and disheartened by this.

Edward silently leads me toward the sofa, handling me much more firmly than he
normally would as he holds me to his chest and pulls me down onto his lap. With Jasper
keeping me somewhat calm and Edward restraining me, I finally trust myself to look at

my daughter.

I have to fight the urge to gasp when I see her. My eyes are immediately drawn to the
thin tuft of dark red hair sprinkled atop her tiny head. It looks so much like Edward's that
my heart can barely take it. I drag my gaze away from her head to take in the rest of her:
petal-smooth skin, pudgy belly and legs, clenching fists, and finally chocolate brown eyes
staring up at me curiously.

She is beautiful, a devastating combination of the best of us, just like Edward promised.

“Please just… keep your arm limp, okay?” he murmurs, setting his chin on my shoulder
and strengthening his hold on me.

Edward’s hand lifts from my knee and drifts along my forearm, marble gliding together in
silent restraint until his palm lays flat against the back of my hand. His grip works its
way into mine and tightens, pulling me away from his other arm. I focus on the calming
presence of his skin and attempt to relax. I am just loose fingers controlled by my
husband’s fist.

I know why we are doing it this way. I can’t be trusted to touch her rosy skin without
crushing her. His left arm is a vice around my waist while Jasper does his best to soothe
me from the agonizing bloodlust. Together, we maintain my fragile control.

Our hands move deliberately towards our quiet child, slowly, testing.

Closer still.

And then finally, my limp fingers brush across the burning skin of her cheek. The warmth
feels like a spark against my sensitive fingers. Her nose scrunches, her little face tilting
away from my cold touch, and an uncontrolled sob rocks my shoulders. I cover the cool
limb around me with my own; if I focus my tension on this impermeable flesh, it will be
easier to suppress the urge to touch her in earnest, to clutch her burning body to my chest
like I so desperately desire.

“Oh, my Renesmee,” I choke tightly, preventing any blood drenched air from entering my
lungs. My voice is unrecognizable to my own ears. “My baby girl. Look how beautiful
you are.”

Edward traces my fingers slowly over her round cheeks, her chubby arms, the soft cotton
onesie covering her chest. Her tiny heartbeat bursts up to meet my fingers in a steady
rhythm. I feel Edward’s grip tighten in a wince as my nails dig into the skin of his
forearm, but he doesn’t say a word. He wants me to have this moment as much as I do.

Her brown eyes are wide as she stares up at me, still squirming under my frigid fingers,
but no longer fighting the cold.

“My little girl.” I release his arm momentarily to wipe my eyes once out of habit, though
no tears are actually there. “How am I going to say goodbye to you? I barely got to say
hello.”

My shirt bunches as Edward comforts me the only way he can, pressing his restricted
fingers into my side and moving them softly across my skin. His chin nestles into the
crook of my neck, his breath tickling my skin, uneven and stuttered.

The air is growing tight in my dead lungs, and I fall silent once again. I need to save this
for the end of our visit. We trace and touch, and then Edward’s quiet voice begins to say
what I cannot.

“Hello, Renesmee,” he whispers. “You’re just as beautiful as I expected, just like Alice
saw you all those months ago.” Our fingers pause on her forehead before slipping up into
her fuzzy hair. The quiet moments between his words are punctuation by her little sighs
and gurgles. The noises are so soft that human ears might not be able to pick them up. I
feel immensely grateful that I can.

My frozen heart shatters a few minutes later when he speaks about her future without us,
and it almost feels like he is taking the words from my mind. “You’ll have a great life with
Charlie. He’s quiet, but he’ll make sure you’re safe and happy. After all, he never liked
me and god, did I deserve his disdain. We trust that he’ll take care of you. He’s a good
man.

“We’ll do what we can to keep an eye on you from afar, but I can’t promise we’ll always
be nearby. And I’m so sorry we can’t be there for you growing up. I can’t tell you how
sad I am that we won’t be there to see your first steps, hear your first word… and a
million other milestones we will never get to witness. We both love you so very much.
All we’ve ever wanted was your happiness.”

My fingers are instantly ripped from her skin as the grief overwhelms me momentarily.
Edward’s face digs further into my neck, and I know if he were human, I’d feel tears
trickle down to my collarbone. But if he were human… well we couldn’t think about that
now. The decision was never ours.

The despair recedes after a while, and words bubble on my tongue. Edward has already
continued to talk. My own window to speak is rapidly closing, and I have more to say to
her. It’ll never be enough, but it will have to be.

I grip his forearm tightly to get his attention, and he quiets as soon as I gesture to my

throat. Not trusting myself to touch her safely yet, I cling to Edward and let the words
free.

“More than anything, I hope you find someone who loves you as much as I love you and
your father.” My voice is quiet and choked, both from emotion and restraint. “There is
nothing more painful or more rewarding than unconditional love. And trust me, you were
always worth the pain.”

Edward presses his lips to my neck as the air finally empties from my lungs. I will not be
able to speak without drawing another breath. Therefore, I will not speak again. Our
hands once again leave her skin as the sadness shakes us both.

Soon enough, his composure returns and brings our night to a calm and warm place. He
talks for a long while, even after she drifts to sleep. He speaks of the Quileutes, Alice’s
vision that first showed her eyes, the way my hair fell when we first spoke; they're banal
little details that only matter because they’re ours. Eventually the words fall to silence;
only strained peace remains.

Tomorrow, she will be gone. Our family will splinter, never to be completely whole again.
But we will deal with that then. This moment is too precious to ruin with what we cannot
control.

So we relish it.

We sit still and entwined at her bedside after the sun slips below the horizon and until the
dew settles on the grass, spending our first and last night with our baby daughter
Renesmee.




Sigh. Just one chapter left. It will be shorter, more of an epilogue than a full
chapter, but I hope to have that up within the next week.

Don't forget to check out my new "story", The Twilight 25. I'll be posted 24 more
one-shots and drabbles over the next three months.

Thanks and reviews are always appreciated :)


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Chapter: 10


Okay this is it. Month nine/epilogue. For a while, this felt like a never-ending
story, so this feels like a bit of a milestone. Elle, you've betaed 80 things for me
this week. Kelly and Christina, you read some things over. You three all are
amazing. I'll say more at the bottom.

Disclaimer: I don't own them.


Month Nine


The contractions were coming more steadily now.

In the moments when I wasn’t breathing harshly and clasping at Edward’s hands, I was
almost hungry. The ice-chips gave me something to chew on, but it didn’t help much.

Because I was not at a hospital, Carlisle didn’t make me wear a robe. Alice had
graciously picked me up some summer maternity dresses, even listening to me when I
requested something cheap. Well, at least cheap for her standards.

Another contraction hit me hard, causing me to bend forward in pain. These were nothing
like the Braxton-Hicks contractions I’ve been feeling for the last few months. Edward was
behind me almost immediately, sliding his fingers into mine and letting me squeeze him as
hard as I needed. My hands felt almost bruised from the pressure of his unyielding palms.

He whispered words of encouragement into my ear as the pain slowly released me, and I
sunk backward into his embrace. This hurt so much.

Somewhere during his almost nonstop talking, Edward sighed six magical words. “We’re
going to have a baby.”

And that was enough to get me through the pain.

Despite everything, absolutely everything that should have gone wrong, here we were.
Rosalie smiled at me excitedly from the corner of the room, giving me the strength of
support. Carlisle diligently took notes on my vitals, doing everything he could to make this
easy for me, and Edward… well he was just perfect. This was perfect.

No matter what happened after Renesmee was born, we would be okay. Nothing could be
harder than these last nine months. Even if I was wrong, and the worst times were yet to
come, it would all be worth it in the end.

Because she was coming.

In just a few hours, I would be a mother.

I could hardly wait.



Epilogue

A woman sits quietly at her kitchen table in Port Angeles, Washington. She holds a cup of
coffee in her right hand and fans out the morning paper in her left. The air is warm with
the smell of pancakes as her husband cooks breakfast behind her. She smiles, happy that
he still does these things for her after all these years.

She lifts the warm mug to her lips, savoring the taste of hazelnut creamer as the coffee
pours down her throat. The weather is a little warm for hot drinks, but she enjoys the
habit.

Her eyes skim over the front page and she hopes that nobody won the Mega Millions
lottery last night. That way she still has a chance. She glimpses at the weather, humid
with a chance of rain, and at the main headline, “Mayor approves budget for recycling
programs in public schools”, and then she pauses when sees an article on the bottom
corner of the page. Her brow furrows. This isn’t typical news around these parts.

Her clammy palm flattens out the gray paper, moving it across the table until the desired
article is in the center, and she begins to read.

- - - - -

Tragedy at La Push Beach Leaves Infant Orphaned

By John Fitzgerald
Peninsula Daily News

LA PUSH- A tragic incident at La Push beach this weekend has left a young couple
dead and their newborn daughter orphaned.

Edward and Isabella Cullen, both aged 19, had planned to spend the summer in Forks

with their families but decided to visit some family friends in La Push first. The native
Forks couple had spent the last year studying in New Hampshire at Dartmouth College.

According to eyewitness reports, the couple traveled with two other families for a day
at the beach. They left their daughter in the care of Susan Clearwater while they took
a swim in the ocean. The two swam together for about twenty minutes before being
pulled under by a rip current.

“One minute they were laughing and splashing in the water, the next they were just
gone,” said 16-year-old Seth Clearwater, who was with Edward and Isabella this
weekend. “Four of us jumped in right away to help them, but we were too late.”

The coast guard covered the area for nearly two days before calling off the search
early this morning.

Those who knew the young couple personally have spoken out on this tragic loss.

Michael Newton, 19, who attended Forks High School with the couple said, “Everyone
loved Bella. She brought out the best in a lot of people, especially Edward. They were
not your typical high school sweethearts.”

Jessica Stanley, 20, agreed. “Edward and Bella were absolutely perfect for each other.
Pretty much no one was surprised when they decided to get married right out of high
school.”

However, everyone seems to have been surprised by the addition of a baby to this
happy family. Our sources tell us that Edward and Isabella chose to keep the
pregnancy a secret until the child was born, though their reasoning is unknown. They
planned to use this vacation to introduce her to their families.

Social services have placed the newborn into the custody of Isabella’s father, Forks
Police Chief Charles Swan, for the time being. Police are still attempting to reach
Edward’s parents and to determine if either Edward or Bella had a will.

Chief Swan could not be reached for comment.

- - - - -

By the time she finishes the short piece, her hand has drifted and taken a place over her
heart. The news has left her stunned, even though she has never met these people. She
takes a moment to say a silent prayer for Edward and Isabella, and their poor newborn
daughter. There is nothing more tragic than the loss of young love too soon.

Her husband approaches the table, setting a plate of pancakes in front of her- one slice of
butter in the center and doused in syrup, just like she likes it. She moves her hand from
her chest to his cheek, patting it once with affection. Then she sets the paper aside, along
with thoughts of Edward and Isabella Cullen.

She takes another sip from her coffee and begins to eat her breakfast.


I need to thank each and every one of you for sticking with me on my first foray
into canon/vamp stuff. I know the updates were sporadic and I'm sure you all
wondered more than once if I was ever going to finish. This epilogue is for you.
The reviews kept me from giving up.

As to what will happen next... will Jake imprint on Nessie? Will she have a freak
accident at 18 and become a vampire? Will she live a normal human life and die
happy and old? That's really up to you.


Leave a review and let me know what you thought. And just one more time, thank
you :)



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Chapter: 11


So about a month ago, the Twilight fandom kicked some major ass at the Support
Stacie Auction. I ended up in the hands of the wonderful profmom72 (c/o the
incredible HMonster4), who asked me to write a second epilogue of sorts for
Beautiful Beat. So... here it is. I hope you like it, T.

Since this is longer than I anticipated, I broke it up into three parts. I'll post one a
day. No need to drag it out.


Elle, I'll probably never figure out the difference between lay/laid/lie, but you still
put up with me. Thank you for your honesty and input on this, and for being
amazing as usual.

If you preferred the first ending, think of this as an AU addition.




Fifteen Years Later

Part One

~ - ~


Renesmee

“Grandpa, Grandma, I’m home!” The door slammed shut behind me, my backpack sliding
off my shoulder and falling onto the floor with a bang. I shrugged off my raincoat and
hung it on the coat rack before I heard my Grandma Sue yell at me from down the hall.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Renesmee? Backpack goes in your room.”

“Ugh, fine,” I groaned back. The straps were damp from the light rainfall, and I could feel
the wet spots soaking into my sweater when I shrugged it back onto my shoulder. My
boots left muddy footprints on the carpet as I walked. I tried to stay on the small strip of
wood on the side of the stairs, but that only sort of helped. I’d have to scrub the floor
later. Chores sucked.

I took a detour to the bathroom to pull off my dirty boots before trudging into my
bedroom with an angry sigh. I hated when the school cancelled soccer practice because of
the rain. For some reason, La Push High School didn’t have enough indoor space for all of
the sports teams, even though it rained all the freaking time. So today, the baseball team
got the gym, and I got sent home in a sour mood.

Jake would laugh when I told him this later. He always joked that soccer was the only
outlet for my teenage aggression, which made me smack him and effectively prove his
point. He was kind of right though. I really excelled at track, but running around in circles
was so unappealing. At least in soccer I got to kick things.

I smiled unconsciously at the thought of Jake’s laughing face, twisting the leather bracelet
he’d given me for my thirteenth birthday around my pale wrist. He was my best friend in
the world, and he had been for as long as I could remember. Some might say that a
werewolf best friend wasn’t exactly safe for a girl, but those people had never met my
Jacob.

My hair was still pulled tight into a ponytail, a thin band of pre-wrap holding back my
bangs. I sat on my unmade bed, rolling my socks down my legs and tossing them toward
my hamper before lying back against my pillow. My eyes drifted, as they always did
when I lay down here, to the brown frame on my nightstand. Two smiling faces stared
back at me. They were so familiar, but not, and I couldn’t help but grin sadly.

My mom had been so pretty on her wedding day. My dad’s arm was latched onto her
waist, and he looked as if he were about to cry with joy. They were so young, but it was
obvious how happy they were.

Grandpa Charlie and Jake made sure to tell me lots of stories about them when I was
growing up. I was perpetually grateful for that. I felt almost like I’d known her, even
though we’d never really met. Neither of them seemed too fond of my father, but I kind
of understood why. I giggled to myself, thinking about how Grandpa would react if I told
him I was getting married only three years from now. Plus, from what Jake had told me,
my dad had been one of those boys that every girl swooned over, even though he’d only
had eyes for my mom. I’d realized this for myself when I made the mistake of taping a
picture of my parents to my binder at school. No less than four of my friends had giggled
over how handsome my dad was before I’d pulled the photo off in frustration, shoving it
into the inside pocket where only I could see it.

I let my finger trail over the picture one more time before sighing and looking past the
frame to my alarm clock. It was only 3:30. I wasn’t expected to head over to Jake’s house
for another forty-five minutes. We’d been planning on kicking the ball around for a couple
of hours. I wasn’t sure what we would do now. I stared blankly at the clock for another
few minutes, watching the digit tick from 0 to 1 to 2. Man, this was boring. I probably
should have gotten ahead on my homework, but even straight-A students needed a break
sometimes. I would have read a book, but it was always harder to focus when I was due
to see Jake.

This was stupid. I could just go wait for Jake at his house, spend some quality time with
Billy. I sat up and reached into my closet for a clean pair of rain boots. Only in this part
of the country did you need more than one pair of rain boots. Grandpa told me that my
mother hated the rain, too. That made me feel a little less out of place.

I ran down the stairs two at a time, a little too eager to see Jake, and managed to run
straight into Grandpa Charlie’s side. His hands reached out for my upper arms, holding
me steady until I was back on my feet.

“Whoa, Ness. Where’s the fire?” He tried to be stern, but I could see the amusement in
his eyes. My own eyes were brown and annoyingly expressive, just like his. That was
the one thing I’d inherited from the Swan side of the family.

I smiled, knowing that it was slightly easier to get my way when I did that. “Sorry,
Grandpa. I was just going to head over to Jake’s a little early.”

His expression tightened for a second, then relaxed. I noticed he’d been a lot more tense
about me hanging out with Jake recently, but I wasn’t sure why. “Okay. You know the
drill-”

“Yeah, yeah. Let you know when I get there, no staying out past 10 on school nights, and
make sure to call before I leave. I got this, Charlie.” I nudged him in the shoulder and
waited for his reaction.

But instead of getting the laugh I expected, I watched in surprise as his lips turned down
into a frown. His hand came up to rub his jaw and his eyes looked inexplicably sadder.
“Grandpa?” I asked, a little concerned that I’d done something wrong.

“Sorry, Ness. You just sounded a lot like your mom when you said that. She had some
weird aversion to calling me ‘Dad’ for some reason.”

“Oh.” What else could I really say? Of course, I sympathized on some level. Every day, I
wished that I could have met my parents even once before they died, but I hadn’t. My
grandpa had married Sue when I was only two, and they raised me just like they would
have their own daughter. I never knew how to react when grandpa got sad like this.
Thankfully, it didn’t happen too often.

A few seconds later, he seemed to snap out of it and placed his large hand on my
shoulder. “Have fun with Jake. Try to stay dry.” He smiled jokingly and turned to walk
into the kitchen.

I stopped him before he could get too far, wrapping my arms around him tightly and
pressing my cheek against his flannel-covered chest. I knew he wasn’t big on affection,
but he looked like he needed a hug. “I love you, Grandpa.”

He kissed the top of my head and hugged me back with one arm. “I love you, too,
Renesmee.” He smiled down at me once before heading into the other room. I heard the
mumble of quiet voices as he and Grandma greeted each other.

Grabbing my jacket from its hook, I pulled it on and flipped up the hood, then wandered
out in the drizzling rain toward Jacob’s house. The walk took less than ten minutes, so
Jake was still thirty minutes away when I stepped onto the porch. I called my house
quickly, rolling my eyes at Grandpa’s concern. I took my boots off just inside the door
and popped my head into the living room.

“Hey, Billy,” I said with a smile.

The older man with the long, black hair looked at me and took a sip of his beer. His
similarities to Grandpa Charlie were staggering. “Jake’s not here yet, Renesmee.”

“I know. Can I go hang out in his room until he gets home?”

“You always do,” he sounded annoyed, but I knew this was just how Billy talked. He
secretly loved me. He just wouldn’t show it.

I walked into Jake’s room and tossed my wet jacket on the floor beside his bed. His room
was one of my favorite places to be. I took a moment to close my eyes and enjoy the
woodsy scent that filled this space. Jake smelled like a man, and it felt a little
embarrassing to think that, but he did. My cheeks burned as I thought of his dopey smile,
his short black hair. I knew he was too old for me, even though his body had been frozen
at the werewolf version of sixteen for several years now, but… he was handsome. And he
made me happy. Not that I really wanted to kiss him or anything, but the thought was
there.

I glanced at the clock on his wall, 3:46, and plopped down onto his desk chair. I spun
around a few times then stopped when I was facing his computer. He wouldn’t mind if I
used his clunky, old computer to check my email and a few other websites. I clicked the
mouse and laughed quietly at the desktop on his computer. It was a picture of the two of
us from last Halloween. I’d convinced him to dress up as the parrot to my pirate. He
looked ridiculous, of course, since he towered over me by about eighteen inches, but he
didn’t complain once.

I stared at the computer screen for a few seconds, then frowned. The dork didn’t have
any icons, so I opened up a folder and started looking for Internet Explorer. The arrow
moved slowly down the screen as I read along.

“Documents… pictures… videos… yeah, don’t want to click on that one. Never know
what you might find on a boy’s computer,” I mumbled to myself as I looked through the
list. “… Music… downloads…” My cursor stopped over a strangely named folder. The
word looked like it was in another language. “Qua… qu- ka…” I tried to sound it out, but
I couldn’t do it. Qahla, the folder read. Was that Quileute? I knew that Jake could say a
few phrases in the nearly-dead language, but he wasn’t fluent. What did “qahla” mean?

I knew it was wrong of me to snoop, but I couldn’t help myself. I double clicked on the
folder, my eyes widening when the window opened.

“What the heck?”

The folder was full. I mean, really full. Some of the documents dated back to more than
fifteen years ago, and there were a steady amount saved from each year, continuing all the
way up until last month. There were pictures and videos, and several Word documents.
The folder was surprisingly organized for Jake. Each one of them was meticulously
labelled… and almost all of the files contained my name.

Renesmee’s first steps.

Renesmee, age 3.

Renesmee, first soccer practice.

Renesmee…

Renesmee…

Renesmee…

First correspondence, August 12, 2007.

Response, August 13, 2007.

The last two were word documents, and they were dated almost three months after I was
born. I clicked on the second one in a daze, incredibly confused but eager to figure out
whatever this was. It couldn’t possibly be as bad as the theories flying through my mind.

Hey B,

I have to admit I was surprised to hear from you like this. I should have deleted your
email immediately and forgotten that you ever tried to contact me, but I couldn’t. Things
have changed since I last saw you, and because of that, I can’t deny your request. Not
anymore. It would only hurt you guys, and I’m pretty sure it might hurt her in the long
run…

The letter went on for a while, describing every little insignificant thing I’d done during
my first three months of life. Jake’s words were incredibly heartfelt, and I might have
even been touched by his obvious affection if I weren’t so entirely weirded out. He wrote
about the little coos I apparently made when I slept and the package of baby clothes that
someone named Angela Weber had dropped off at Grandpa Charlie’s house.

Almost three typed pages later, the creepy retelling of my every move came to a close.

I really do miss you, Bells, but not in the way you might expect. I guess you can say that my

priorities have shifted. I see how you used to be whenever I see her bright, little eyes. I
don’t feel pain, though. Only happiness.

You know I really thought you were crazy. Being with him, giving up your life and even
your goddamn blood to spend your life with him, but I think I understand it now. Looking
into those eyes, I understand the change that overtakes you when you meet someone that
you know is supposed to be in your life. I finally get that sacrifice.

I’ll be sure to keep you updated.

-Jacob

My head was spinning. I couldn’t understand any of this.

There was only one person I could think of that Jake might refer to as “Bells,” but… no.
That didn’t make sense. She died months before this letter was sent. Plus, that little bit at
the end had me on the edge of a freak out as it was. Jake spoke of my infant self as
something to be worshiped, treasured, and many other things that were borderline
inappropriate. How had he been that devoted to me when I couldn’t even speak? And all
of that talk about blood and sacrifice? What was he talking about? I tried to list the things
I’d learned from this document, and every one confused me more and more.

Jake had received emails from a dead woman, and he had responded.

He had spoken of me as if I were his daughter, or - rather - an angel. Some inhuman force
that apparently gave him happiness.

He promised to keep my supposedly dead mother updated on what... my life?

None of this made any sense at all. Was there more to my parents’ deaths than I had been
told? Had Jake been lying to me for all of these years?

My internal breakdown was interrupted by the last voice I wanted to hear right now.
“Hey, Nessie,” Jake said brightly, unaware of my mood.

I couldn’t look at him. If I looked at him, I would yell and cry and storm away from his
house with no answers. Either that, or I’d see his ashamed face and just drop the entire
subject. So instead, I started at the beginning, where my curiosity had gotten the best of
me and lead me to things I almost wished I’d never seen.

“Qahla?” I asked in a quiet voice. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to scream at him or run away.

Jacob’s voice came out in a whisper, quieter than I’d ever heard it. “It’s Quileute. It

means ‘sun’.”

That wasn’t good enough of an answer. It didn’t tell me anything. “Why did you call this
folder ‘sun’?”

“Nessie-”

“No!” I almost yelled. “This is fifteen years of me and my… my mom? And I deserve to
know. Why did you call it ‘qahla’?”

I finally looked over to Jacob, angry tears threatening to fall down my flushed cheeks. He
stood there with his head ducked, his hands threading together nervously in front of him.
At least he had the decency to look ashamed. I yanked the pre-wrap off my head and
pulled out my hair tie to release my dark red hair, twisting the strands over my shoulder
to give me some kind of distraction.

When his words finally came, they nearly knocked me over with their absurdity. “You are
the center of my universe, Nessie. You are my sun.”

“What are you talking about?” I practically sobbed. I was getting hysterical at this point.
I was so at terms with all the things that had happened to me in my life. I didn’t know
my parents, but that was okay because I had my grandparents to watch out for me. The
few times I did get sad about things, Jacob was there to calm me down and make me
smile. And now I was finding out he’d been keeping things from me?

He groaned loudly, his hands moving up to cover his face. “God, you weren’t supposed
to find out like this. You’re too young. It’s not time yet.”

“Jacob Black, I swear to God, if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I will leave this house
and never come back.” It was an empty threat, but I don’t think he realized that.

“Over fifteen years ago, your parents handed you over to the Quileute pack leaders at the
border of our land. They brought you back to La Push, and I saw you for the first time
and… that was it. I imprinted on you. “

My pulse raced in my temples, and I could almost hear the blood pounding near my
ears.Imprinting. I knew that term. I had heard my best girl friend Claire talk about her
boyfriend, Quil, throwing around the word and telling me that he’d told her over flowers
and candlelight on her seventeenth birthday. She told me that she’d always suspected he
had, but… Jake was just my friend. He had been such a good friend to me for so long
now. How could it possibly be more than that?

Jake continued to talk quietly, “From that moment on, my life became focused on you

and keeping you safe and happy.”

My chest rose and fell quickly with shallow breaths. I wasn’t old enough to have to deal
with stuff like this. I wouldn’t even be sixteen until June, but apparently I didn’t have a
choice. And neither did he. Jacob Black was bound to me by magic or whatever they
called this kind of witchcraft. The teenager in me wanted to kick and scream and make
Jacob feel as lost as I did right now, but I couldn’t. I had learned enough about imprinting
to know that it wasn’t a choice.

But there was something else he hadn’t addressed yet. Something more confusing and
possibly more devastating.

“And my mother?” I whispered.

Jake crouched in front of me on the floor, pulling my hands into his. I tried weakly to pull
away, but he held me tight in his grasp. “Nessie, you have to know that neither of them
had a choice. If they kept you with them, you would have been in danger every second of
the day. Hell, you might even be dead by now.”

I didn’t even bother to try to process this one. “How so?” I asked blankly.

His hands tightened slightly around mine, but never to the point of pain. “You remember
that bonfire a few months ago when he talked about Quileute legends?” I nodded my head,
because I did. It had been a fun night of ghost stories while hanging out with my closest
friends. Jake looked from my knees back up to my face, releasing one of my hands to
wipe the tears from my cheek with his thumb. He took a moment to figure out his words
and then spoke quietly. “Edward… your father was one of "the Cold Ones". Soon after
you were born, your mother became one too.”

The Cold Ones. Three words that had been spit out like they had a bitter taste at the
bonfire. Sam had pulled his young daughter onto his knee, holding her close while
explaining that particular legend. Though he wasn’t much older than Jake in age, his body
showed the strain of the years, as he had stopped phasing when I was just a child.

I had always lived in a supernatural world, so my next question came out probably easier
than it should have.

“They were… vampires?”

“Nessie,” he said, squeezing my hands lightly, “they are vampires.”

~ - ~

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Chapter: 12


I'm bored waiting for Top Chef to start, so here. A few hours earlier than I
expected. And again, hearts to profmom72 and ElleCC :)


Part Two

~ - ~


Not all of his werewolf strength could have kept my hands in his at that moment. I jerked
backwards, letting Jake know I did not want to be touched, and allowed the rolling chair
to glide back into the hard, wooden desk. I didn't realize I was trembling until I placed my
hand against the armrest, trying to find something to ground me. My body knew how to
react to this news even if my mind couldn't process it.

"They're not dead."

"Technically, they are," he quipped and it sounded too much like a joke. Did he think I
would find this amusing? I folded my shaking arms over my chest and looked up at Jake.
His legs were braced as if he were preparing to move closer, so I glared at him until he sat
his butt against the carpet.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I tried to think about what I could possibly say to him. I
guess I needed to make sure I heard him correctly before I reached complete meltdown
level.

"So, you're telling me that my parents have been out there, moving and living without me
for fifteen years now," I made sure my eyes were on his when the last words fell out of
my mouth, "and you knew?"

Because that was the part of all of this that made my chest hurt the most. This was
Jacob. He was the one person I could trust beyond all doubt and reason, but now I felt as
if he had betrayed me in the worst way. He had allowed me to believe myself an orphan
for my entire life when in reality they had just... what, handed me over?

Jake scooted toward me despite my protesting, so I stood and stomped to the other side
of the room, bumping around a soccer ball on the floor with my toe. I could hear him huff
in frustration, but I didn't care. I was probably angrier than I had ever been before, and he
was going to have to deal with that.

When he did finally speak it was too calm, too patronizing. "I really did plan on telling
you someday, Renesmee. As my imprint you have the right to know about all pack
information that I can share, but I didn't want you to know until you were old enough to
handle it. That's why Quil didn't tell Claire that he'd imprinted until she turned seventeen.
She was just too young."

"Oh, too young!" I cried sarcastically, turning on my feet to face him. "That explains
everything, doesn't it? You're forgiven, no problem."

"Nessie, don't be difficult about this," he said, rolling his eyes.

I scoffed. If he was going to talk to me like that, then he was going to have to deal with
my attitude. "And why not?"

"Because it was for your own good! All of it!" His voice was louder than I'd ever heard it,
and I flinched back against the wall. "After all I've done for you, do you really think I
would keep something this huge from you if I didn't have a reason?"

He was getting angry, and I was beyond furious, and nothing good would come from
talking about this any more right now. A part of me knew that I didn't want to forgive him
yet, even if he was probably right in the long run. I also knew better than to piss of a
werewolf when he was already on edge, so I made the adult decision to step away before
this got more heated.

Still I couldn't stop myself from making one more comment. "You know what, Jake? You
can go to hell." I kicked the ball hard at his stomach before bolting out of the room. I
ignored Billy's concerned noises as I slipped my boots back onto my feet, and I sprinted
out the front door without another word, leaving my jacket and a yelling Jacob behind.

- - - - -

Okay, maybe running away before I could grab my coat had been a stupid idea. The sand
was damp and stuck to the bottom of my shorts. My pullover sweater kept me a little
warmer, but it wasn't enough. I released my hair from its twist and let it provide whatever
warmth it could around my shoulders. All in all, though, I was freezing. My hands
gripped tightly around my shins as I stared at the moonlit ocean on First Beach.

At least it had stopped raining.

Jacob hadn't followed me here, and that gave me a little relief. I needed some space before
I could see him again. He knew me well enough to recognize that. Grandpa Charlie would
kill me if he found out I'd been out here alone, even though La Push was extraordinarily
safe thanks to its supernatural protectors. But my cell phone was quiet in my pocket, so
I could assume the Black family hadn't ratted me out yet. It did make me slightly less...
everything knowing that he was still looking out for me.

Every time I tried to process what I'd learned today, a sense of worthlessness would
wash over me, leaving me nauseous and incredibly sad. I had never felt so powerless in
my life. Everyone else was so focused on keeping me safe that they couldn't even tell me
they were doing it. It was a really hard concept to grasp.

Was I that childish?

Was I so weak that Jacob didn't think I could handle the truth?

Was I so unimportant that my parents felt they had no choice but to abandon me?

Jacob insisted during his bumbling explanation that my parents had no choice in leaving
me, but how could that be possible?

I had been raised among werewolves, self-admitted volatile creatures who were prone to
violence and accidental rage. I had seen first hand how dangerous they could be when
Embry's fiancée stumbled to our house one night, bloody gashes running from her
shoulder to her waist. According to Quileute folklore, the cold ones were worse because
they fed on humans, but even without much knowledge about vampires, I couldn't believe
that my parents were uncontrollable like werewolves could be.

I had seen all the pictures that my grandparents had, from their time together in high
school all the way up to their wedding day. He'd held her so close at prom and at their
wedding. Why would my father have married my mother if he only wanted to feed on
her? How could they have had the... sex that was required to conceive me if he was
simply an animal? And if he had been able to control his hunger around her, why couldn't
they have kept me with them? And why had my mother been turned into a vampire at
all?

A shiver went through me, and I wiped my sleeve against my eyes. I refused to cry over
this. Crying would only reinforce that Jake had been right, that I couldn't handle this.

"You're not the brightest kid, are you?" a familiar voice asked from behind me. I flinched
at first but relaxed when I realized that it wasn't Jacob.

I sniffled, wrapping my arms tighter around my legs. "Shut up, Leah."

My sort-of step-sister plopped down beside me in the sand. She kept a few feet of space
between us but thrust a thick jacket toward me. "Well, at least put this on. Jacob will kill
me if I let you get sick, especially after I had to pretty much put him in a headlock before
he'd agree to leave you alone right now."

I continued to brood silently, but I wasn't stupid enough to deny warmth when I was
freezing my butt off. Pushing my arms through the over-sized sleeves, I let myself take
comfort in Jake's scent. Stupid boy could make me feel better even when I was mad at
him.

"He's freaking out, you know," Leah said after I refused to talk. "He's practically
flagellating himself because he thinks he made you cry." I didn't feel like justifying that
with a response. He deserved to feel guilty. He had made me cry.

"Okay, listen Loch Ness," she growled, using my least favorite nickname. "I had to leave a
date with Matt to come here, so you're going to talk to me and I'm going to take you back
when we're done. I didn't do anything to you, so cut the silent treatment crap." I
immediately felt bad, like a chastised child. Leah had finally found someone she loved last
year in a man who was strangely enough from a town named Clearwater. He lived more
than ninety minutes away, so she didn't get to see him as often as she wanted.

"Sorry that Jake made you leave your date, Leah," I mumbled. "I'm okay, really. He just
overreacted."

"I didn't come here because of him. I left because I worry about you too, you dork." She
pushed my shoulder gently with her hand, and I couldn't keep the smile from creeping
onto my face. I had a great support system, even without my stupid, abandoning vampire
parents. Still, that thought was enough to make me sad again.

"You're not okay, Nessie," she said, probably seeing my unconscious frown. I started to
protest, but she cut me off. "You're a strong girl, especially given what you've been
through, but nobody's that strong. It's okay for you to be pissed about this."

"I am pissed!"

"Good." She laughed warmly. "And I know you don't want to hear this, but everything
that has happened was for your own good."

"Ah yes, to save me from the horrible truth that is my existence. An older werewolf is
magically attached to me for life, and I have a set of blood-sucking killers for parents."

"Well, first of all, come on Nessie, you know he can't control that imprinting thing. He
annoyed the hell out of Quil after it first happened, asking nonstop questions about how
he'd handled it. I mean, how could he possibly explain that phenomenon to a little girl
without sounding like a creep?"

I laughed quietly at that and nodded my head. "Well, maybe-"

"And psh, your parents aren't killers. I'll admit that I kind of hated both of them...
Edward was like an angry little protector over Bella, but his family only ever hunted
animals. Something about doing what was right. Vampires with moral codes, give me a
break." She scoffed the last part quietly to herself, and I felt a strange combination of
pride for having ethical parents and annoyance that Leah would make fun of them for
that. Then I wondered why I was internally defending them. I was pissed at them, too.

"Well they might not be killers, but they certainly had no qualms about getting rid of me."

Leah sighed. "I don't think anyone other than they can explain why they felt the need to
pass you to Charlie, but I can guarantee you it wasn't without some heartbreak."

"Please," I muttered sarcastically.

"Think about it, Renesmee. Why would Bella bother to have Jake update them on you for
fifteen years if they didn't care?"

The answer was simple enough. She wouldn't. If she didn't care, there would be no reason
for her to continue to email Jake for this long. But that didn't mean I was any less
confused by their intentions, or frankly, any less angry. So, I stared at the sand, watching
it part under my fingers as I drew little shapes and stick figures.

Leah dropped her hands onto her legs, her palms smacking loudly against her jeans. "Fine.
Be pissed for a little longer, but you're going to get sick if we stay out here. Are you going
to come with me nicely, or am I going to have to carry you?"

"I can walk," I muttered.

I stood up from the sand, my muscles cramped up after being tensed against the cold for
so long. Leah allowed me a moment to stretch out before we headed up the beach
together.

"And remember, if you want me to kick Jake's ass, Seth and I can take him no problem."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind." I snorted, remembering the time that I helped the

siblings Clearwater get revenge on Jake when I was eight, after he accidentally dented
Leah's car. Jake's face had been so funny, and he'd pretended to chase me around the yard
for a few minutes while I squealed with laughter.

"Thank god, she can smile," Leah teased. She threw her arm over my shoulder and
squeezed. "Come on, kid, let's get you home."

- - - - -

I didn't see Jacob the next day. That was mostly my doing. After soccer, I went straight
home and stayed in my room doing homework until I fell asleep. Grandma wasn't even
able to wake me up for dinner. All of the stress had made me excessively tired. Staying
out that long in the cold the night before probably didn't help either.

When I didn't see him the day after that, I figured maybe he was still giving me my space.
We had never gotten in a fight like this, and I don't think either of us knew how to handle
it.

But when the third day passed by, I started to get worried. Was Jacob mad at me because
I stormed out on him? Was Leah making him stay away? She was a good sister when I
needed her to protect me, but she did have a tendency to go overboard.

Did he think I hated him?

I didn't know how much longer I could go without talking to Jake. The vindictive part of
me refused to back down until he apologized; he was in the wrong here, not me, and he
should be the one to give in. But a bigger part of me just missed my best friend.

My Saturday morning, the fourth day, was spent moping on the living room couch,
flipping through several channels before deciding on Nickelodeon. Brainless television
sounded like exactly what I needed. Grandma Sue brought me some hot chocolate, but
otherwise left me alone. She probably heard the gossip from Leah and knew me enough to
know I wouldn't talk about it.

During my third episode of The Fairly OddParents, I dozed off until a loud banging noise
yanked me out of slumber. I stared around, disoriented, for a few seconds before a heard
the noise again. Someone was knocking on the door. Before I could even sit up all the
way, I could hear a key pushing into the door and then Jacob was standing in my foyer,
looking apologetic and small... well not small, but definitely ashamed.

"Hey, Ness," he said quietly, a small smile on his tired face.

I couldn't stop myself. I dropped my blanket on my couch and ran to him, jumping up

and wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. He caught me easily, pulling me just as
close.

"I'm so sorry that I yelled at you, Jake," I muttered into his shoulder.

He squeezed me one more time, then let me down onto the floor. We walked side by side
into the living room. "No, Renesmee. Don't be sorry. I thought a lot about what you said,
and I think you're right. We've hidden a lot from you without your input, and that was
wrong of us. You just don't understand how much is riding on this."

"What do you mean?" I asked, sitting back down on the couch with a frown.

"There are forces... beyond us that monitor what we're doing. Well not us so much as the
vampires. If their people knew we existed, we'd be in a world of trouble-"

"Jake, what are you talking about?"

His hand moved up to scratch the back of his head. "I'm getting vague again, aren't I?" he
asked, frowning. I giggled and nodded. "Sorry. What I meant to say is that I kept this
stuff from you for a reason. You couldn't know when you were little, because you might
have accidentally told someone and really endangered yourself. And I don't know, I guess
we all just thought it might be easier if you thought they were dead. They didn't want you
to spend your entire life wondering where they were."

I sat back against the armrest, wrapping the warm blanket around my shoulders again and
thinking quietly. Jake settled in beside me and turned toward the television.

Everything Leah and Jake had told me in the last few days was running through my head.
My parents were strangely moral vampires who restrained from feeding on humans. They
left me with my grandfather for some unknown reason. All anyone knew could tell me
with certainty was that they were trying to protect me from something.

That fact didn't really make me feel any better. What threat could be so dangerous that
they would leave their own child, in the hands of werewolves, after only a handful of
days? And more importantly, how could they leave me? Without a word... without a
letter... without even letting me know that they weren't dead.

I wondered if Grandpa Charlie knew that his only daughter was still alive, but I quickly
decided he didn't. Though I had known about werewolf culture for my entire life, grandpa
had preferred to stay on a need to know basis. I think the supernatural factor unsettled
him too much. But the rest of the pack? The people I had considered my extended family
for all these years had known my parents for who they really were, and they knew what
had happened to them. I was stuck in some weird limbo between knowing it all and being

kept in the dark.

Like Leah said, the only people who knew the exact reason why they left were them.
Bella and Edward Cullen. And I would spend my entire life half in the dark if I didn't do
something about this.

"Jake?"

"Yeah, Ness?" he answered distractedly, his attention still half-focused on the cartoon.

"I want to meet them."

Jake sat up straighter on the couch, his posture stiff and ready for another fight. He
moved his hand to my shoulder, rubbing the tense muscle as if to prematurely calm me
down.

"Resnesmee, you have to see why that's a bad idea."

I could feel that anger building up again, burning in my stomach and making my fists
clench at my sides, but that wouldn't get me anywhere. I pulled from a more grounded
emotion, channeled my frustration as I pleaded for his assurance.

"Please, Jake? I need this. I- I can't spend my entire life wondering. I can't wake up every
day, knowing that they're out there, but not knowing them at all." I was upsetting myself,
the tears threatening to fall and my breaths coming in shaky gasps. I had cried more in the
last week than I had since the time I broke my shin when I was twelve. It was almost
embarrassing, but Jake only looked at me with compassion and sadness. "I'm almost
sixteen years old, and I just found out the one thing I've been sure of my entire life was a
lie. I need to know why. I need to understand why they left me."

Earnest sobs overtook me then, and I couldn't talk anymore. "Shh, Nessie, come here,"
Jacob said gently, pulling me onto his lap. I buried my face in his chest and let him rub me
on the back like he did when I was upset as a child. Just like that, he was the best friend
I'd been relying on for years, again, and not the werewolf who was bound to me without a
choice. We could think about the implications of the imprint when we got to that point,
but for now this was all that mattered.

Once I calmed down, Jake let me slide back onto the couch. He lifted his hand to my face,
brushing back my hair and wiping the tears off of my face. He smoothed my hair out
once, before sighing in obvious defeat.

"I'll see what I can do."

~ - ~


Just a few things really quick. First of all, I completely recognize the irony that
this "epilogue" will be over 1/3 the length of the rest of the story. S'just how it
happened. And I'm so happy that most of you like the idea of getting a little more
closure on this.


If you're someone who preferred the ambiguous ending, I'll let Will Shakespeare
say it:


If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended
That you have but slumbered here, while these visions did appear;
And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream...

In other words, just think of it as AU.


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Chapter: 13


Part Three

~ - ~


"I really don't know why we have to do this."

"I told you, Renesmee. I had some extra money, and we haven't gone to visit Renee in
almost two years now," Jake explained for the tenth time today. Grandpa Charlie nodded
his head in agreement from the couch, but otherwise stayed absorbed with the baseball
game on TV.

"But for my spring break?" I knew I was whining. I may have even stomped my foot a
little bit, but whatever. I wasn't sixteen yet.

"Nessie, stop complaining," my grandpa said with finality. "You're going to Florida, for
goodness sake. Jake was nice enough to pay for your flight there. The least you can do is
pretend to be excited." Jake pretended to be unaffected by his words, but I saw him send
Grandpa Charlie a thumbs up when I thought he wasn't looking. Jerk.

It had been over a month since the Renesmee/Jacob's fightfest of 2023, and we hadn't
talked too much about my request since then. Between the real start of the soccer season
and an annoying influx in homework from my teachers, I hadn't had a lot of free time to
spend with Jake. When we did have a few hours together, we spent it discussing other
things.

Jake told me a lot of honest stories about my parents, especially what he knew of my
father. His apparent grudge with my dad made more sense now that I knew what he really
was, but I could tell that Edward Cullen was a good man at heart. Every story mentioned
how unflinchingly devoted my mom and dad were to each other. He told me about the
few months when my father left to protect my mother, and how Jacob wasn't able to
really fix her despite his efforts. He explained about the Cullen family, particularly the
father figure, Carlisle, whom he considered to be the only truly decent vampire in
existence.

Our time alone together did feel a little awkward, knowing that I was his imprint and not
just his friend, but everything was the same otherwise. Jake was still my great, cute older
friend who I'd known since I was young.

I guess he felt guilty for how I'd found out the truth about my life, because last week he'd
showed up at my house with news of plane tickets, and just like that, I had boring plans
for my last vacation of the year. I knew Grandpa Charlie felt guilty because we couldn't
really afford to send me down to Jacksonville very often, but I spoke to my other
grandmother a few times a month and that was enough for me. This trip was entirely
unnecessary.

"Come on, Loch Ness. Let's do this," Jake said excitedly, patting me on the arm before
grabbed my duffel bag off the floor with one hand.

I glared at him as fiercely as I could, spitting out, "Don't. Call. Me. That."

He laughed and ruffled my hair, making me scowl further. "Ah, Nessie. You're too easy."

I gave my grandparents quick hugs goodbye before stalking after Jake to his latest project,
a 1969 Ford Mustang. I never saw the appeal of restoring cars; it seemed like a lot of
work to me.

I yanked open the door a little too hard and dropped into my seat with a huff. Jake tried

to poke my side until I caved and smiled, but I just smacked his hand away until he
stopped. Traveling was not my thing and it was drizzling. Plus our flight left Seattle at
noon, so we had to leave La Push around six in the morning. I was in a pretty bad mood.

With a yawn, I leaned my head against the door, enjoying the feel of the cool window
against my cheek. The engine hummed so nicely, and the radio was turned to some
classical station that he knew would calm me down, and before I knew it, I was asleep.

- - - - -

"Renesmee."

I groaned at the unwelcome sound, lazily flopping my hand in its direction.

"Renesmee," the voice said again.

"Go away," I mumbled, cuddling further against the hard surface of the car door.

"Renesmee Carlie Cullen, wake your butt up. We need to catch our flight, and I can't carry
you through security."

A combination of those words and the loud bang of a trunk slamming shut finally roused
me from my nap. I rubbed my eyes sleepily, simultaneously suppressing a yawn and
scratching my stomach. Jake kindly opened my door for me, and I stepped out into the
bright Seattle sun. He slung both of our bags over his shoulder and scratched my head as
we walked slowly toward the automatic doors.

I was still sort of in a daze as Jake checked us in. I handed over my passport, which I'd
gotten a few years ago for a family trip to Toronto, and leaned tiredly against the counter
as he handled the tickets.

This trip might not be too bad. Grandma Renee and Grandpa Phil had a swimming pool,
so if I got bored I could just lie out in the much warmer sun. Who knows? Maybe I
wouldn't look so freaking pale by the time we came home after Easter. Hanging out with
people who were tan year round made me a little self-conscious about my complexion.

Jake bumped me in the shoulder and handed me back my passport, the ticket tucked into
its pages. I flipped it open with one hand, following behind Jake's giant form as we
walked toward security.

"Bangor International?" I questioned, a confused frown on my face. "I thought we were
flying into Jacksonville. Is Bangor somewhere else in Florida?"

He laughed nervously, his hand raking through his short hair. "Uh, no. Bangor
International is in Maine."

"Why are we flying to Maine? What about my grandparents?"

Jacob stopped abruptly, and I walked into his back because I wasn't watching where I
was walking. He steadied me like he always did. But instead of laughing and nudging me
forward like usual, he simply looked down at me, an uncharacteristically serious
expression on his face. I waited for an explanation, my fidgeting foot the only sign of my
impatience.

"You said you wanted to meet them, right?"

He didn't need to explain any further. I felt those annoying tears creeping into my eyes
again, and I blinked quickly so they would go away. Stepping closer, I wrapped my arms
tightly around his waist, too tired and overwhelmed to make the normal leap to his neck.

"Thank you, Jacob."

He hugged me back tightly for a few seconds before letting me go with a sad smile.

"Save the sentimental stuff for later, Ness. We have a plane to catch."

- - - - -

The flight was long, full of bad movies and random television shows. We had a brief
layover in Detroit, which added several hours to our trip. Jake tried to distract me by
buying us matching "Detroit Rock City" t-shirts. They were so tacky, and he had to buy
the biggest size they had, which was long enough but made him look so much heavier than
he was, but I guess they served their purpose: they made me laugh.

Because the fates seemed to want to drag this out as long as possible, our plane circled
over Bangor for forty-five minutes before finally descending onto the runway. As soon at
the wheels hit the pavement, a flash of panic made me lean over, my forehead resting in
my palms.

Sure, I had made it very clear that I wanted to do this, but the actual idea of it was sort of
abstract in my mind. Edward and Bella Cullen were images, smiling faces in a handful of
photographs. In only a few hours, they were going to be with me in the flesh, and I wasn't
sure how to handle that.

What would I say to them?

This was more than just a simple first meeting. I held a lot of resentment toward them
that I hadn't really processed yet. And who knows what they thought of this entire
situation. I knew that they had to have at least agreed to it when Jake brought it up, but
why? Out of guilt? Out of obligation? Did they honestly want to see me?

My heart craved that last option. I desperately wanted to believe that they had had a
serious reason for giving me up. Jacob was hesitant to share the exact details of the last
time he saw my parents, but he tried to explain to me how broken they were. How the
Cullen family had been willing to break the fragile threads of friendship connecting the
wolves to the cold ones in order to keep me safe.

Still a part of me just couldn't understand how they could leave me. Of course I didn't
know what it felt like to have a child, but I tried to imagine what it would take to make me
leave my family... and Jacob. I didn't think I could do it. I couldn't leave him, knowing
that he would probably hurt for my absence.

I kept my breaths as steady as I could, trying to keep my thoughts positive but realistic
for this meeting. The fasten seat belts light pinged and shut off, and Jake's warm hand
moved to rub circles into my upper back.

"Are you going to be okay, Renesmee?"

"I think so," I whispered into my hands.

He continued to massage my shoulders even as people started to move around us. "We
don't have to do this, you know. Bella wired me enough money that we could go buy a
ticket home right now. Hell, we could even still go to Jacksonville if you want."

"No. I need to do this." I sat up in my seat and drew a deep breath, releasing it with
finality. I couldn't doubt my decision if I wanted to get through this in one piece. Besides,
I had a night at the airport hotel to relax and prepare myself. It was already almost
midnight on the East Coast, and I wanted to be rested when we finally met.

"Let's go, Jake. I am so sick of being on planes."

- - - - -

The cheap rental car did not drive smoothly on the road. I picked at my bagel for twenty
minutes before giving up, the early morning sun stinging my eyes through my sunglasses
and the occasional road bump making my barely contained nausea come to the surface.

So yeah... I was nervous.

Jake did what he could, but I was pretty inconsolable. He didn't complain when I chose
the music on the radio, and he didn't try to start pointless conversation after it became
clear that I was only sort of there. We were meeting them at their cottage in the far out
suburbs. Jake didn't say it, but I knew he was afraid that I would cause a scene if we met
somewhere public.

At the next stop sign, Jake made a right, maneuvering the car down an unpaved and
winding road. The wheels crackled against the loose gravel and dirt, and I really worried
for a moment that I was going to be sick. Jake handed me his water bottle without a word
and I gulped it down, thankful for the bit of relief. We drove slowly for several minutes. I
squeezed the empty plastic tightly in my hands, because I knew we were getting close.

And then I saw it. A quaint, but beautiful house sat in a cleared out space, surrounded by
flowering trees and green brush. It didn't look like the home of a vampire couple. There
was nothing gothic or dark about it. In fact with the pieces of sunlight that managed to hit
the roof, it almost looked bright. That put me at ease just slightly.

I glanced over to Jake, who was staring at the house in ridiculous concentration. I giggled
slightly, despite my tension, and asked him, "What are you doing?"

"Telling Edward to wait inside until we're ready," he muttered back.

"Um," I said, confused, "but you weren't talking."

"Oh yeah," he chuckled sheepishly, "I forgot to tell you... He can read minds." Seeing the
panic on my face, he quickly added, "Don't worry, though. He can be polite about it. He
tries to ignore the voices most of the time, or something. I don't know. Bella explained it
to me a few times"

I sank back into my seat, shaking my head. "Just great."

Jake slowed the car to a stop, pushing the gear shift into park. I looked distractedly at a
small tree with pink flowers. I had never seen anything like that on the West Coast.

"Hey," Jake said, forcing me to focus back on him. His hand came up to my ponytail,
tugging gently. I looked toward him and nodded my head. That was all that needed to be
said... or not said. Whatever. He understood.

We got out of the car at the same time, but I only managed to take a few steps before
faltering. Breathe in, breathe out.

This was stupid. I just needed to man up and do this. They were just waiting inside, and I
didn't want to delay this any longer. The last few yards to the house passed quickly

under my feet as I took swift, heavy steps up the stone stairs. I knocked loudly on the
door, letting the false bravado make me feel less scared than I was.

I didn't even hear footsteps before the door swung open.

He was tall, shorter than Jake of course, but taller than I expected. Not a bit of him had
changed from the pictures I knew so well. Incredibly pale skin, eyes that were a bizarre
amber or goldish color, and hair that closely resembled my own. My father, Edward
Cullen, who didn't look much older than I did.

I just stared at him, my confidence stripped away in an instant. The fine hairs on my arm
stood up, some part of me recognizing that I was in the presence of a predator. His mouth
was slightly agape as he watched me, his strange stare making me feel uncomfortable in its
intensity.

Suddenly, his eyes widened and shifted to the floor. "Sorry," he mumbled, and I nearly
gasped at the smooth sound. Once I recovered, I frowned. Why was he apologizing? And
then I remembered the mind reader thing.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It's just... You. You're here. I..." But he
seemed as lost for words as I was.

Thankfully my savior stepped in like he always did before things got too uncomfortable.
"Edward," he said from behind me, and I watched as his extended hand reached over my
shoulder. I saw the protective gesture for what it was and smiled slightly. "It's good to see
you."

His lips curved up into a slanted smile as he reached out to take Jake's hand. "Come on,
Jacob, you don't have to lie to me. You never have before."

The two of them joked like barely civil friends while I stood uncomfortably between
them. Eventually Jake placed his hand on my shoulder, and I watched as Edward - it felt
weird to think of him as my father when he was right here in front of me - let his eyes
flicker to where we touched and back so quickly I almost didn't see it.

"So, I guess you two would like to come inside? Bella's waiting in the other room. She
didn't think we should overwhelm you at once." He sounded composed, but I could see
his anxiety in the way that he dragged his fingers through his thick hair. He smiled tightly
when I nodded, and we followed him through the small house.

As I should have expected, their home was beautifully decorated, minimalistic but very
fitting for a couple living by themselves. I tried to ignore the framed photographs on the
walls, but couldn't stop myself from glancing around in pained curiosity.

There were a few that I recognized, wedding and prom photographs, but there was an
entire set that I'd never seen before: Edward's hand draped over Bella's swollen stomach
while she slept, the two of them huddled together in a gorgeous clearing with Edward
clearly holding the camera out in front of them, and possibly the most surprising... several
pictures of me, from when I was a baby up through my latest school portrait. While I'd
known that Jake had been sending them pictures, it was a very strange experience to see
them displayed so prominently. I forced myself to shift my eyes down again before I got
too weirded out.

"The others don't live with you?" Jake asked after a few seconds.

Edward peered over his shoulder briefly. "We... we can't be around them yet. Not all the
time. It's too hard." Jacob nodded as if he understood, but I had no idea what he was
talking about. I folded my arms over my chest and looked at the floor until we finally
turned into a room.

Unlike Edward, Bella Cullen looked incredibly different than she had in her pictures. Her
skin shone a porcelain white, her eyes the same inhuman color as her husband's. Her dark
hair was shinier, fuller, and fell in easy curls over her shoulders, highlighting her beautiful
face. She was a more amplified version of the lovely woman from her wedding photo.

Despite her extraordinary appearance, she looked small and frightened on the sofa. Her
hands were folded on her lap, and she glanced toward Edward for some strength before
looking at me directly.

And then a brilliant smile lit up her face.

"Renesmee." She breathed out my name with such wonder, her surprisingly warm voice
relaxing my tension and making me want to smile, but I really wasn't ready yet. I nodded
my head to acknowledge her acknowledgment and stepping slightly closer to where I
thought Jake was. Bella's smile slipped, but she gave me the space I'd silently asked for.

When they realized that I had no plans to speak, Bella and Jacob began to talk quietly,
two old friends who hadn't spoken in a while. I just sort of stood there.

Bella watched me with so much fondness as she chatted with Jake, her eyes twinkling
with excitement and an awed expression brightening her features. Edward looked slightly
less relaxed than Bella, a small crease forming in his forehead when he looked at me, but he
still seemed content. I knew he could hear what I was thinking, and that made me feel sort
of guilty. I didn't necessarily want to make them feel bad. I just wanted to understand.

I had hoped that when I finally saw them, the words would just form in my head. I hoped

I would know exactly how I felt and what I needed to say. But here, watching blankly as
my father sat beside my mother, his arm sliding around her waist and looking so much like
they did in their photographs... I had nothing.

The resentment still sizzled below the surface, as did that sense of abandonment.

Because despite how happy they seemed now, these two smiling people had made the
decision to send away their only daughter. They had purposefully kept me in the dark,
and I could feel my temper pushing toward the surface as they continued to smile and not
explain a thing.

I managed to keep it under control, caught between enjoying the impossible sight of
Edward and Bella Cullen and flinching at the impatient feelings that were coursing through
me. That was until Bella said something that made my heart race uncomfortably, and my
infamous teenage aggression shoot to the surface.

"I wish you could have seen my reaction when we finally figured out what had happened.
You know, I still don't know how I feel about you imprinting on my daughter, Jake, of all
people-"

"Stop it," I snapped.

My parents sat up straighter on the couch, shocked by the first words I'd said since we
arrived.

"Renesmee, what's wrong?" Bella asked, clearly concerned with my seemingly random
outburst.

I couldn't sit quietly any longer. I stepped away from Jacob and braced myself as the
words fell out unchecked.

"No, no. You don't get to sit there and just smile at me and... and call me your daughter as
if you have any claim over me at all!" Jake reached for me, but I twisted out of his grip.
"No, Jake, I need to say this. You left me! You let me think that you were dead for my
entire life. Grandpa Charlie still gets sad all of the time because I remind him of you, but
we moved on because we had to. And now I'm supposed to accept that you were
gallivanting off together in New England the entire time? Why would you even bother
having me? I want to know why you... how you could do that to me?" There were so
many things I still wanted to say, but I managed to get a hold of myself before I
bombarded them with more self-pitying questions.

The ensuing silence was tense and only broken when I heard Jake's loud footsteps moving
away from me. I turned around quickly, shocked to see that he was leaving.

"Where are you going?" I asked in surprise. Didn't he know I needed him? He was the
only stable thing I had in this horrible situation, and if he left, he would take my strength
with him.

"I'm sorry, Ness, but I can't help you out this time," he replied sadly. "This is between
you guys."

Jake stepped forward to press a kiss on the top of my head, then swiftly moved from the
room before I could protest.

I took a deep breath and turned back toward my parents, feeling a little embarrassed by
the way that I'd yelled now that I'd calmed down slightly. I still needed to know the
answers, but I probably could have handled it better.

My foot shuffled against the ground, and I pulled my hair from my ponytail to nervously
twist it over my shoulder. I guess that was one trait I had inherited from my father.

I had dreamed of this impossible moment countless times, but it never unfolded like this.
In my imagination, this was a time of celebration and love, not awkward tension. When I
did chance a look at them, I felt shameful. They were too beautiful to look so sad. But I
couldn't find it in me to regret what I'd said, and that almost made me feel worse.

Bella rose slowly from her spot on the sofa, running her fingers through her husband's hair
softly before approaching me. She stopped when there was about a yard between us, and
I fidgeted like a child about to be scolded.

"Renesmee," Bella started, cautious, as if she were afraid I would yell again. "Sweetie, do
you think we took the decision to leave you lightly? Do you think it was easy for us to
say goodbye to the single best thing that had ever happened to us?"

I shook my head, not sure if I was saying no or if I was just trying to cope. Tears stung
my eyes, and I pulled a little harder at my hair.

"Saying goodbye to you was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life," she admitted
quietly after I didn't respond. "Not a day goes by that we don't ache because you're not
with us."

"Then why did you do it?" I asked in a whisper, afraid that I'd cry if I spoke louder.

"There were a lot of reasons. The issue of blood lust was almost enough by itself, but it
wasn't the only reason. I could list them all for you, but I don't know if you could really
understand what was at stake, not without seeing firsthand how dangerous our life would

be for a human." She glanced up at me with wide eyes, hopeful that her answer was
enough to assuage my curiosity.

"No," I retorted, feeling a little guilty when her frown deepened. "That's not good enough.
Why can't any of you seem to be honest with me about this? I'm not a little kid. I've been
living with werewolves since I was a baby. I can handle the truth." I forced myself to
stand up straighter, to stare directly at her without backing down. If I committed to it
enough, she might even believe me.

"What do you want me to say, Renesmee?" Her voice was quiet and defeated. "That we
spent the nine months before you were born shocked and thrilled that we'd been given an
opportunity we didn't think was possible? That I essentially died during childbirth,
forcing my husband to change me into a vampire years earlier than anticipated? Or that I
was so out of control as a newborn that I tried to attack my own family? Or maybe you
need to know that we can't stay in one place longer than five years because someone
might notice that we aren't aging. Not to mention what would happen if someone saw us
in the sunlight."

In my peripheral vision, I saw Edward leaning forward as if he wanted nothing more than
to be by her side. Yet he restrained himself, probably in an attempt to make me more
comfortable. Meanwhile, Bella continued to speak softly, listing reason after reason why
they had to leave me with Grandpa Charlie. I felt myself being convinced, despite my
urge to stay on the defensive.

"Maybe we had to leave because there are a group of vampires in Italy that wanted to kill
me simply because I knew that vampires existed as a human. I can't even imagine what
they would do to you, the daughter of one of their most wanted talents. We could never
put you at risk like that."

And then she fell silent. My will to fight was fading fast as I allowed myself to see it
from their perspective for the first time. They had everything stacked against them. Every
single thing about the vampire world was adverse to human life: their diet, their laws, their
immortality. Had they even had a choice? Would I still be alive if they had kept me with
them?

The urge to forgive was growing strong, and that scared me. Without this animosity, there
would be only grief.

"Were there more reasons?" I asked shakily, a weak attempt to prolong the moment.

Bella sighed as she thought out her answer. I just watched her and waited. The silence was
stifling but safer than whatever we had to say. A few seconds later, she fluffed out her
hair and glanced up at me. Her desolate expression nearly had me spiting out apologies,

despite the fact that I'd done nothing wrong.

"Let me ask you this, Renesmee." Her voice cracked as if she were crying, though no tears
filled her eyes or ran down her cheeks. "Before all of this happened, before you knew
about us and Jacob... were you happy?"

I found myself taken aback by her question. Everything had been in such disarray
recently, my mind so consumed with what I didn't have that I hadn't spent much time
thinking about what I did have. I thought back on my life with Grandpa Charlie and
Grandma Sue. I thought about my sort-of step-siblings, and I thought about Jacob, who
had been holding me up for as long as I could remember. I remembered all of the holidays
and bonfires I'd experienced with the tribe, a loving group of people who had adopted me
as one of their own. I thought about birthdays and soccer and days at the beach, and that
was it. I knew the answer to her question without a doubt.

"Yes."

She smiled sadly, her pale hand reaching forward to ghost over the wave of my hair. I
could feel the chill of her skin on my scalp. "Then it was worth it. Charlie can give you
the normalcy we never could. I would go through that pain again and again as long as you
ended up happy and safe in the long run."

Once again I was left speechless, but for a very different reason. Bella continued to gently
run her fingers through my hair while I let my gaze drift between the two people who
brought me into this world and left just as quickly. They did care, as I'd desperately
hoped so many times during the last month. It was obvious now that I allowed myself to
see it. My resentment finally gave way to sadness, for them and for the entire situation
that had apparently never been in their control.

This would be easier if they were villains. Hate was always easier than love, and it would
be simple to return to my life in anger, leaving behind the people who abandoned me out
of either selfishness or impatience. But really, they hadn't abandoned me at all. They had
sacrificed what was probably their only chance at a family in order to secure my safety...
in order to make sure I had the chance for a normal life. I couldn't imagine the selflessness
that came along with that kind of deed, but I certainly understood the motivation.

Love. There wasn't any other explanation. They loved me enough to let me go.

I could have easily slipped into a guilty haze, allowing myself to feel smothered for
thinking so badly of them over the last month, but that wouldn't solve anything. My
parents were here, smiling at me and loving me, and I didn't want to waste this time
feeling angry or guilty. I wanted to know them. I wanted to find out where I got my sense
of humor and whether my parents had been athletically inclined.

I wanted to be coddled in their cool embrace for the first time in my life.

I blinked before looking up to Bella, not even bothering to hide my tears this time. "I
thought about you every day," I admitted. "I have your wedding picture in a little frame
on my nightstand, and... and..."

And then my own sobs cut of any further explanation. I found myself reaching
desperately for my mother, wrapping my arms around her tightly and refusing to be
deterred by her stony flesh. She quickly pulled me closer, her slight height advantage
letting me bury my face in her neck. In an instant, another arm circled my body, and
Edward pulled us both toward his chest. I felt his cheek press into the top of my head as
he rocked us slightly.

"My girls," my father whispered into my hair, sliding his hand from my back to the side
of my head, holding me closer to him.

Though their bodies were cold and unforgiving, I wouldn't let go. There were a million
things I still wanted to ask them: where they spent the last fifteen years, how they
passed the time, what they thought of Jacob's frequent e-mails. But we had time for that
later. I let myself nestle into them like a young child as I tried to accept that this moment
was real.

For these few days, we would be together.

They loved and missed me as much as I'd always longed for them.

I couldn't have asked for anything more.


And that's it. For real this time. I'll say preemptively that no, Renesmee is not
going to live with Bella and Edward now. Her life will remain relatively
unchanged, but she knows they are out there and they love her. Maybe she can
email her own updates from now on.

Thanks again profmom72 for giving me the chance to do this :)