DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight.
RENESMEE POV
I shot one last, horrified look at my mother's broken body as my Aunt Rosalie lifted me from the bed and out of the room. Panicking, I struggled from her unbreakable grip. I wanted my mother. I wanted my father. I wanted my parents.
Aunt Rose placed me gently on the bed and handed me a bottle of blood. I saw the dark man storm in, his eyes full of tears. I looked up at him, and he glared right back with wet, hatred-filled eyes. Then, the expression in them faded and was replaced with pure wonder.
He lifted me up, ignoring Aunt Rose's protests. He did look rather nice when he wasn't glaring at me. But as sorrow crossed them again, I once again remembered my parents and started crying for my mother and father.
I could hear the fading, slowing beating of my mother's heart. I could almost see my father's determination to save my mother, his vampiric speed and strength working better then any hospital device. Vampires could not cry, but I-however absurd the idea may be-knew that impossible venom tears were escaping his eyes as each heartbeat came and went.
Then I heard them. So faint, that if I was pure human, I would never have heard it.
"Edward," my mother whispered, nearly unintelligibly, "Take care of her. For me. Take care of Renesmee."
And her heart was still.