Author's Note: If you've read my other story, you will clearly recognize that this is about as different from that as you can get. This was written for the TwiCon fanfiction contest but didn't make the cut. So many people helped to refine this, Alice, Nina, Meg, Liv, Lauren, and I'm sure there are others – and many of them encouraged me to post this anyway. I have to send a special thank you to PoeticCheese for making this better than I could ever have done on my own. She is brilliant and I'm hoping to count her among my friends for a long time.

If you've taken the time to find this and click on it, thank you. I only hope you enjoy reading it half as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or anything related to Twilight. That privilege belongs to Stephanie Meyer et al. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from the publication of this work.

PROGENY - 100 Years After Breaking Dawn

This was harder than I imagined. It was harder than with Charlie or Renée, or anyone else over the years. I suppose that's why they say a parent should never have to bury a child.

As I walked down the hallway, I noticed her door was ajar. Sunlight streamed into the hallway. A small part of me was angry that the sun was still shining when my baby was suffering. I heard their whispers and giggles. For just a moment I pretended that she was still a child and we had an eternity ahead of us to enjoy her. Then, reality came back, so I closed my eyes and committed those sounds to memory; it wouldn't be long until they were gone forever. Steeling myself, I put on a brave face and reached for the door, but I stopped at Renesmee's shocked laugh.

"Was she really that bad?" Her voice was raspy again and her breathing labored, yet, despite it all, she was laughing. It almost hurt to hear her laugh, when all I wanted to do was cry. Then I heard his velvet voice, the one that could soothe almost anything.

"She was the epitome of clumsiness." I heard the smile in Edward's voice as I peeked through the slight opening in the door, and I watched him rub his fingers across her knuckles. His touch always calmed her. It calmed me, too. "Your mother was not very graceful when . . ." He paused.

"When she was human, Dad. You can say it." She looked up at him with those child-like eyes. Her body may have aged, but her spirit and her eyes were still those of our baby girl. "It doesn't bother me," she said, as she turned his hand over and ran her tiny fingers across his palm. "This is how it's supposed to be."

Edward hung his head. Guilt was his specialty. Part of me knew that he still suffered thinking about my change, Renesmee`s birth, and the thoughts he had during my pregnancy. As much as I tried, I couldn't assuage that completely. Her small voice snapped Edward and I both from our reverie. "Could you promise me something, Dad?"

He looked up and smiled as he carefully tucked an errant strand of her long, grey hair behind her ear. "Anything, love. You know that."

"Move on," she said, her voice cracking from the effort to sound authoritative.

"What?" The surprise in Edward's tone was unmistakable.

She sighed, and closed her eyes. "I want you and mom, grandma and grandpa, and everyone else to move on."

His brow furrowed. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean, love."

She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration and I saw just a hint of a smile on Edward as he recognized the inherited trait.

"I don't want you all moping around when I'm gone. I want you to go on, and do what you want and need to do." She paused and her eyes turned to the window, toward the sunlight. "And help Jacob do that, as well," she said in barely a whisper.

Edward cringed at his son-in-law's name. It was obvious that he pitied Jacob. For all the animosity, he wouldn't wish this upon anyone. Edward always said he knew what it meant to lose the love of your life. The difference was that Jacob has no hope of getting Renesmee back.

She spoke again. "Mom, too." I froze. "You know she'll go crazy when I'm gone. Make her realize that it had to be this way. It was my choice. I knew this could happen when I got pregnant with William, and then again with Clara. I wouldn't change a single minute of my life." She held his hand tightly, imploring him. "Help them understand, okay?"

I thought back to when she was pregnant with William. Carlisle and Edward researched everything they could find about potential problems. There wasn't much, but one possibility kept coming up: pregnancy would alter her physiology and the vampire genes would recess, causing her to age again. That is exactly what happened. As much as I wanted to argue, I knew how she felt. I knew it then, and I know it now.

Edward looked at her, sadly. He carefully reached over and moved another lock of hair away from her face. As he pulled his hand back, he stopped and laid it carefully on her chest, just over her heart. From the day I met him, Edward had been a sensitive soul. Fatherhood had just made him more so. Regardless, he could wallow in denial with the best of them, and I sensed that he really didn't want to have this conversation right now.

His tone lightened and it was obvious that he wanted to change the subject. "Did I ever tell you about the time that Uncle Emmett, Uncle Jasper and I went on that hunting trip to the Northeast?" Renesmee shook her head, and smiled. Her father's stories were always a favorite pastime and his charm was never lost on his daughter.

"I don't think your mother has even heard this story," he said as he turned slightly toward the door, looking right at me, "So, if she would care to join us . . ."

Busted. Stupid vampire hearing. I could never get away with anything.

I opened the door wider, and smiled at Renesmee. Edward held his hand out and drew me to sit with him, at her side. I carefully ran my hands over the blanket covering her legs. She grinned at me and then looked back at Edward, raising her eyebrows at him to continue.

"Well, your Uncle Emmett decided that we should head into Boston to do some "sightseeing." Well, his idea of sightseeing." He seemed to choose his words carefully. "Shall we say, adult forms of entertainment."

If Edward could blush, he would have put my deepest embarrassment to shame just then. He paused and looked over at me with a serious stare. "Remind me never to allow Emmett to dictate any social events for us." I rolled my eyes and smiled at him, as if to say, "Well, duh."

***

It had been a while since all of us were together. By "all", I mean everyone that we could feasibly have together without suspicion. After all, how do you explain to your great-grandchildren why you look younger than they do?

Jacob and Renesmee`s children, William and Clara, had passed on several years before, but there were the grandchildren. Clara and her husband, Alexander, had a daughter, Sarah, who was now in her sixties. Sarah had married, but never had any children. She just doted on her niece and nephew. William and his wife, Elizabeth, had a boy and a girl, Charlie and Isabel. Charlie was in his thirties, but unmarried.

Then there was Isabel. Not Isabella, but close enough. She went by Izzy, and was the one thing in this world that gave even Edward hope that there was some higher power looking out for us. She was basically my twin; long dark hair, big brown eyes, feisty, loyal and terribly stubborn. When she was born, we all started to believe in the circle of life and felt certain that she was the beginning of the next rotation.

To elevate the irony to almost comic levels, she had married a man named Edward, and yes, he actually went by his full name. They were in their early thirties, and had only one child so far; a son, Edward, II. He was six years old, now, and dazzled everyone he met. His trademark was, of course, his unruly bronze hair.

Things were easy when William and Clara were born. We all loved them, and spoiled them as much as possible. When they got a little older, we realized we couldn't keep in contact with them, without an explanation. It would have been too hard, and possibly too dangerous, to expose ourselves. Although we all agreed that they saw our coven as a threat, the Volturi had not bothered us again, and we certainly wouldn't provoke them.

As for the children, we simply watched them from afar. We saw them grow up, have their hearts broken, graduate, fall in love, establish careers, get married, have their own children, and so on. It was a trade off. We couldn't hug them or push their strollers, but we were lucky enough to witness our great great-grandchildren's happiness for ourselves.

Renesmee and Jacob did their best to handle her aging with their children and grand children. Surprisingly, Jacob started aging as well. We would never know for sure, but Edward suspected it was Jacob's choice to start aging again. Carlisle had no theory on the issue, and it seemed that it would remain a mystery.

So, here we are, some one hundred odd years after Renesmee was born, watching her die. It wouldn't be long before she was gone. We had all come to accept it, and were simply bracing ourselves and trying to make the most of what little time with her we had left. Renesmee had resigned herself to this fact long ago and was, without doubt, the strongest one of us. She was such an obvious blend of Edward and I. Her grace, intellect and eloquence were all Edward. Her stubbornness, fearlessness and loyalty were curses from the Swan bloodline.

We all gathered in the living room. Carlisle and Esme had traveled from Isle Esme, where they had lived for years, trying to enjoy some peace and quiet. The rest of us had followed the children around as much as we could, and now, we were all back in Washington. I suppose, in a way, things had come full circle.

Jacob carried Renesmee down the stairs and tucked her into the end of the sofa. I thought nothing of it until I felt Edward behind me, as he wrapped me tightly in his arms and hid his face in my shoulder. I gently brushed my hand through his hair and whispered, "It'll be okay."

"It's not that. She's . . ." he stopped. I heard him take a deep, unnecessary breath. He kept his face hidden and spoke so softly. Even I could barely heard him. "Seeing her there," he choked on his own words, "All I can see is you, pregnant with her, and I think about what I almost . . ."

Guilt is a wicked mistress.

Before I had a chance to soothe him further, her small voice broke through the lull in the conversations. "Can I ask a favor of everyone?" We all stopped and gravitated toward her. "I want you each to tell me a story. Tell me something you remember about the family. I don't care if I've heard it or know it, or if it was too long ago. Just something you remember."

Here she was, literally on her deathbed, and she was the one strong enough to find a way to bring us all together. Carlisle, always the elder statesman, spoke up. "Well, then, shall I begin?"

Everyone nodded and I felt the tension abate slightly. I noticed Renesmee's hand lying on Edward's shoulder. He was leaning into it. It warmed my heart, and broke it at the same time.

"Nessie, I'm sure you can imagine that your father has always been a bit uptight." Everyone laughed, even Edward. "But I can tell you about two times that I have seen him carefree, and open enough to light up an entire room." Carlisle beamed at Edward, his eyes full of love and pride that could be challenged by no father: biological, adopted, human or vampire. Edward groaned softly, and I smiled a bit. "The first time was when he married your mother. I promise you, there has never been a happier groom than your father."

"I'm going to have to challenge that," Jacob spoke up, before leaning down and kissing Renesmee's cheek.

Carlisle chuckled. "Jacob, I'll grant you that you were happy, but you must remember that you waited eight years for Nessie. Edward waited a hundred years for Bella."

"She was worth every second," Edward said softly, picking up my hand and kissing it.

Renesmee beamed at us. "What was the second?"

"The second time was when he held you for the first time, and you 'talked' to him."

Edward looked sad and distant, and his words were cautious. "You were just hours old," he said, clearly remembering those horrible days, "And yet, the only thing you wanted to convey to me was your concern for your mother." He looked back and kissed her hand. "I knew then," he continued, choking up again, "That you had your mother's heart, and that everything would be okay."

"Yeah, those are sweet and all," Emmett boomed from across the room. "But I loved how crazy your dad went when he found out Jacob imprinted on you." His bellowing laugh drowned out the chuckles, coming from everyone else.

Rosalie, always one to throw gas on the fire, chimed in. "Or how about Edward's face when Jacob told him that they were going to Isle Esme for their honeymoon?" Jacob howled with laughter.

Edward's eyes closed, and his lips formed a tight line. It was clear that not even immortality and two hundred odd years of living could make a father comfortable talking about his daughter's sex life.

I looked at Renesmee as she smiled at Jacob. It was the same way I smiled at Edward.

***

Jacob looked so frail. Even Renesmee hadn't looked that fragile in her last moments, only hours earlier. He clung to my side, and leaned down to lay his head on my shoulder. Jacob sighed as Edward leaned on my other side and wrapped his arm about my waist.

Emmett, Jasper and Carlisle carefully placed wood around her altar. Alice, Rosalie and Esme didn't have the heart to come. I hated it, but I knew it had to be this way. The pyre was a necessity. She was still part vampire, after all. So many memories from our brief time together came back as I watched Carlisle bow his head briefly, before he lit the fire.

I projected so much symbolism onto that fire. At first, a slow burning flicker: My move to Forks. The brighter flames rising and surrounding Renesmee's body: My life with the Cullens. Finally, the all-consuming fury that engulfed her completely: My relationship with Edward.

A faint outline of her body was still visible. I sensed Jasper trying to soothe everyone, but the sadness took over. I shook with internal sobs, for which there was no physical outlet. I shut my eyes tightly and pictured her, smiling and touching my face for the first time, telling me in her own way how much she loved me.

Edward's arms tightened around me, as he tucked my head tighter into his shoulder. Jacob leaned down and whispered in my ear, "I love you Bella." He kissed my cheek at the same time Edward pulled me closer, turning me away from the pyre as Jacob moved away. I sensed someone else at my side, and I felt them wrap their arms around me.

In the distance I heard the sad, faint howls of Leah and Seth, the two remaining wolves. I suddenly realized what was happening. I looked up just as Jacob walked into the pyre, climbing up and lying next to Renesmee, without so much as a whimper of pain from the fire. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. Then, I heard only Edward's soft whispers, trying to calm me, telling me that it was for the best.

I finally found my voice. Carlisle was still holding me but I managed to jerk free of Edward's arms, and looked at him in horror. "You knew, and you just let him?"

Edward looked down at me with impossibly sad eyes. It struck me hard. I had felt that breadth of sadness when he left me, the first time. This was just as deep. He simply nodded.

I looked back at the fire. There was no distinction left between the flames and the source of their power. Looking up at Edward, I realized how selfish I had been. I forgot how much he had lost, too. He lost a daughter and a friend, just as much as I had.

"Why?" I begged him.

He nodded to Carlisle, who released me. I fell into Edward's embrace. He leaned down to kiss my cheek and whispered to me, "Because I knew he couldn't live without Renesmee any more than I could live without you."

I sobbed into his chest. There was nothing left to say. I wanted to cry, to run, to hurt someone in the same way that I was hurting, but it was futile. The best we could do was to move on and carry the memories of our brief time together, in that special place we saved for them, for everyone we had to wish goodbye; and for everyone we'd loved in some way, big or small. I had to think they were out there somewhere, watching us. I had to think that, somehow, they knew that we kept their memories alive in our own way; and that we always would.

I pulled Edward closer, struggling to focus on how lucky I was to have him here with me, forever. There were no words that could possibly tell him how I felt in that moment, so I said the only thing I could think of. "I love you."

He gently sighed and leaned down, brushing his lips softly against mine. "Thank you."

There it was; the right thing to say. He always knew, didn't he? His eyes told me what he was really saying: Thank you for loving me, for giving me a family, for giving up your life for me and for spending eternity with me. I realized, then, that I would gladly do all those things over and over again, no matter what the cost, for him.