CHANGING HEART

by

AngelycDevil


Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This is rated T for mild cussing, and thus, my Edward is a bit OOC as well. The banner for this one-shot, created by the fabulous RachelxMichelle, is on my profile.

I would not have posted this one-shot without the help of slytherinangel01 and PTB betas, who provided a critical eye and meticulously edited my writing. To my readers, you are the reason I continue to write; your every review, favorite, alert brings a smile to my face, so thank you for making me smile and laugh. Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoy this.


Bella, Bella, Bella. My dead heart whispered with every nonexistent beat. I was all alone in the study; everyone else was downstairs.

I had done something wrong, I was sure of it. Yes, I could hear her heartbeat. Yes, I could smell the—my—venom racing through her veins. But she didn't move, thrash, jerk or convulse as I remembered my mother and siblings had done. Not a single tiny whimper broke out of her perfect lips. Rosalie had screamed so loud, I'd been astonished the town hadn't gathered at our doorstep.

I remembered back to my own transformation and flinched. She must be in agony. I squeezed her slim hand, begging for a response.

Edward. I sit up in response to my name, focusing on Alice's thoughts. You're definitely a daddy's girl. Oh, so pretty! I'm going to have the best time dressing you up, little Renesmee!

I had never heard Alice like this. She was practically cooing to the baby…my daughter.

I couldn't wrap my head around it. I had never imagined it possible, that I could be a father. I listened into everyone's minds. All of their thoughts were about Renesmee. She had them wrapped around her little finger, and she couldn't even walk. I smirked slightly. That's my girl.

My girl. It seemed so natural to call her that. Only a few years ago, I had discovered the pleasure of calling Bella that and now another one. The more I thought about her, the stronger the pull became. I began noticing little things such as the fact that everyone else had held her but me. Everyone had spent a entire day with her, and I hadn't spent a minute. I felt an irrational urge to claim her, but I couldn't leave Bella's side. No, the mere thought hurt more than anything. But Renesmee...I had to see her. The only contact I've had with her was when I ripped her out of Bella and practically threw her to Rosalie. It seemed too crude of a memory to have of my daughter; I needed to see her, to hold her in my arms, to get to know her. I sighed and kissed my love's forehead, inhaling her lingering human scent, memorizing it for the nth time.

"I'll be back, love," I whispered, but I doubted she could hear me. Either way, she didn't respond. I walked out of the room, and leaned against the door frame. Now, I could see them both.

"Alice." My voice was low, but she heard me. She smiled, and took the baby out of Jacob's arms. I stiffened as I read his thoughts. Instinctively, a feral snarl erupted from my chest. How dare he? My baby! I hadn't held her once and he already had some imbecilic claim over her.

"I know," Rosalie scoffed, rolling her eyes. It was truly frightening how in-sync Rosalie and I had been ever since I had been able to hear the baby's thoughts. But I barely heard her, because Alice had reached the top of the steps. Now, I was merely a few feet away from my perfect angel. Alice came to a stand in front of me and held her out.

"Nessie," Alice introduced her to me. My eyebrows rose. She shrugged. Jacob figured Renesmee was too long. Besides, it suits her, she hurriedly added when she saw me tense. My child was named after a Scottish lake monster. I sighed in defeat. I wasn't in any mood to start a fight; the need to meet my daughter was too much.

I looked at her. She stared back with her big, brown eyes. Beautiful, bronze curls framed her face; they were a shade darker than mine. My daughter. I still couldn't wrap my head around this…miracle. I was in her features: her hair, her cheekbones, her full lips, and her straight nose. Bella was there too, in her eyes and her blush. Even Charlie was there in her thick curls. Yes, she was mine. Ours, I reminded myself. Bella was going to wake up soon. Our little miracle. This only proved to be truer as I took in her pale-white steel-like skin and hummingbird heart.

Take her, Edward. Alice nudged gently. I hadn't realized I had frozen, and as if Renesmee could read the pixie's mind, she stretched her arms out towards me, her tiny fingers curling into fists, and her small face somehow managing to look impatient.

I felt my eyes widen. A one-day old baby should not be able to that. Or move so surely. Or look at things with the focus that she did. That was when I started noticing the changes. She was bigger than when I had seen her last, her hair was longer, her face was older, and her mind had matured. My jaw dropped in the horror I felt. Her growth was accelerated, I grasped with a drowning heart. She looked weeks old in one day and if this kept up...Dear God. A small cry fell from her lips and interrupted my thoughts. Her tiny hands uncurled and then curled again. I shook my head, determined.

No. I would not worry about that now. Now, I would focus only on Renesmee. I will cherish every moment I have with her as if it were the last. I reached out to take my baby out of Alice's hands. A sudden pang of uncertainty filled me: I had never held a baby before. What if I dropped her? What if she started crying because I hurt her somehow?

It's alright, Edward. She is sturdy, Alice answered my unvoiced question. She knew. She had felt the same uncertainty the first time she held Renesmee as well.

"Sturdy," I muttered. "Sturdy is good, right?" I looked up at her.

Esme was the one that answered. Yes, she replied mentally. She also informed me that she was almost sure that Nessie's skin was as strong as a vampire's, but softer at the same time. And then, her mind wandered, replaying yesterday all over again, her mind focused on Carlisle as he interacted with Renesmee. Isn't he a great grandpa? She mentally swooned, reminding me too much of the days when it had just been the three of us.

I pretended to gag before snorting. "Grandpa."

Carlisle rolled his eyes. "Shut it, son." His voice was teasing, but I knew he'd be blushing if he could. He was happy. They all were.

I focused back on Renesmee and extended my arms further until she was safely enclosed by them. As soon as she was in my arms, she smiled at me. She was so warm—almost the same temperature as that dog. Yes, dog, I have no more respect for that motherfucker. A happy sound gurgled out of my Renesmee, and it all suddenly clicked. Her smile, her hair, the knowledge that shined from within her chocolate depths…of course, she was mine, and of course, I knew her. More than content with my epiphany, I hugged her closer to me, nuzzling her hair with the tip of my nose. She smelled exquisite; a mix of vampire and human. I felt her smile widen.

I pulled back and looked at her again, marveling at her beauty. She certainly surpassed us all. Even Rosalie. Oddly enough, Rose agreed.

"Hello, Renesmee," I whispered to her, wondering if she recognized me or my voice at least. The voice she'd liked as a fetus in Bella's stomach. She looked at my eyes when I spoke to her and then, very deliberately, reached for my face with her tiny fist. I knew what was coming. My daughter was gifted. It was one of the many things that everyone in the family was marveling about for the past twenty-four hour, but when I felt her tiny palm against my cold, wide cheek, I couldn't help but gasp. It felt so right; having her near me, letting her touch me. She didn't flinch at the coldness of my skin. She wasn't bothered by it at all. I blinked, and then focused on what she was showing me:

Everything was dark and wet. She couldn't see anything, but she felt something restraining her. She felt as if she was in a balloon. She heard a loud thudding and fast voices; after a while, she was able to distinguish between them, categorize them. One was low, pained but she could tell that that voice liked her. Another one that was sweet but deeper. It was hard for her to tell what he thought of her, but for some reason she liked that voice. She zeroed in on those two voices and decided that she liked them and then focused on the very last one: my voice. I felt a jolt of pride and happiness run through me. She recognized me. She knew me.

The vision blanked out only to be followed by another.

She was scared. The voices changed; they're louder now. She didn't like the noise. She didn't know what happened. One minute everything was calm, and then something changed. Her bubble got smaller, so she panicked and pushed at it. It broke and then it was all chaos. Everyone was shouting and screaming. It was all too loud. She pushed at it again, hoping the noise will stop, but it only magnified. Suddenly, there was a big sound and Momma yelled, "Get him out!" I flinched. There was another ripping noise and then a huge thud and snarling, lots of it. Abruptly, everything was white, bright and I saw my face. Frantic but determined, my face was twisted in pain, my eyes hollow and my mouth set. She remembered me giving her to Momma, but taking her away too soon. She remembered me holding her, telling her not to bite Momma. That vision ended on a questioning note: Why?

"It was dangerous." I didn't recognize my own voice. It was rough, pained.

I felt her tiny palm stroking my cheek, but she wasn't showing me anything, she was comforting me. I hugged her closer, burying my face in her hair completely. I felt her tiny hands trying to reach around my neck, copying my action. I shifted her so her head was resting on my shoulder, but her hands still couldn't reach around me. She looked at me and her lips formed an adorable pouty-ish shape. I smiled and kissed the side of her head. Resting her head in the curve of my neck, she sighed contentedly. It was natural and simple, as if we had been doing this for centuries rather than minutes. She trusted me completely. Just like Bella had when we first met.

I leaned back, resting against the door frame. She reached for my cheek again. This time, the memories were different…not as painful. They were just a simple run-down of what she thought I missed.

But I truly hadn't missed anything, but she didn't know that. I just let her have her moment. I got a distinct feeling that she wanted me to know her, and that I hadn't physically been there when all these things happened worried her. It made me...giddy to be wanted by my baby girl. Uh, strange. But I didn't ponder on the horde of fresh emotions, as her memories began to filter through my mind.

She remembered Aunt Rosalie hugging her—she smelled so sweet—and running a brush through her hair. That felt nice. And then, she and Aunt Alice played dress-up with her. That was fun. They even took a lot of pictures. It was all in a yellow album downstairs on one of the couches…buried deep underneath all the other albums that were overflowing the couches.

She recollected playing with a spoon Grandma Esme gave her. But then, it broke so she got another one. And that one broke too. Annoyed, she threw the whole box down and pointed at it, pouting, silently asking Esme why they kept breaking. Esme simply laughed at her as a reply, and that hurt her feelings. Immediately, Grandma had stopped, and told her she was laughing only because she looked so cute. But she thought Grandma was lying.

"Not true," I murmured. She rolled her eyes at me, a mirror image of my habit, but otherwise ignored my interruption. I smiled, joy filling my veins simply because I've found one more thing that I'd found in common with her. It had been the same with Bella. But it was different with Renesmee; she was a part of me, my daughter.

She recalled Grandpa Carlisle and that yucky, gooey white stuff: baby formula. I grimaced, and nodded in agreement. I didn't know why Carlisle tried. Then, she remembered him rocking her lightly, putting her to sleep and holding her when she did. But he wasn't there when she woke up. That made her angry and worried. Did he not like her? She'd asked him, and he replied that he only left her because he had to go to work. Following that, Grandpa had launched into describing what the hospital and his job was like. That was really interesting.

She remembered Uncle Emmett and Uncle Jasper playing ball, slower than usual so that she could understand and see the ball. That was funny. Uncle Emmett got so worked up every time he lost. Uncle Jasper always taunted him. Seth and Embry started playing with them after a while.

Lastly, she recalled ending the day with Jacob, watching birds. They were weird and fascinating, hopping around on sticky legs, making chirpy sounds; but the sounds they made were relaxing. It was just as relaxing as listening to Jacob's heart. That was familiar. He was warm, too, and she really liked his woodsy scent.

I sighed.

Warmth. I could buy her the whole world and lay it at her feet, but I couldn't give her that. Only Jacob Black could give her that. My lips quirked a bit as I remembered thinking the same thing about a year ago as he kept Bella insulated while we roughed it out on the mountains, waiting for Victoria to strike.

Another image assaulted my brain. It was me, my eyes cast down, my lips in a frown: I was sad. Staring at me through her eyes, I got the distinct feeling of curiosity tinged with anger. It took a few seconds to realize that the anger wasn't directed at me, but at whatever was making me sad. She was protective of me, even though she'd only known me for a few minutes. She was exactly like her mother. Bella, love, wake up. Come meet this breathtaking creature we brought into this world, I silently begged.

"It's nothing."

She frowned and pressed on my cheek harder. Her curiosity grew, and now, frustration topped anger.

Damn, Edward, what are doing to her? Jasper growled from downstairs. I merely chuckled. He knew I wouldn't hurt a hair on my precious baby's head. Her frown deepened and water filled her big brown eyes. Her bottom lip began quivering. Hurt radiated from her big, brown eyes.

Shit.

"Warmth," I blurted out, not being able to handle the fact that I was causing her pain. How did she do that? How did she know exactly what to feel? Had Bella somehow told her daughter her secret? You're a goner, Edward, I told myself. Between my wife and my daughter, I truly stood no chance. But I found that I didn't care.

She didn't understand my answer. She repeated it, trying to make sense of the word. It made absolutely no sense to her. I shook my head. She was going to press the issue further—maybe add a few actual tears this time—but all the thinking and her busy day made her tired, and she suddenly felt the weight of it. Her plump lips formed a perfect "O", and her mind started to slip into slumber. But for some reason, she woke herself up again. I frowned at her.

"What is it?" I asked, frantic. Why did she do that? Does she not want to sleep in my arms? Would she prefer Rosalie's? Or Jacob's? Sharp pain started coursing through my body. She didn't want me. Rejection flooded through me. But her happiness was more important than mine, so I was about to call for Rosalie when I heard my daughter's thoughts. She was recalling a conversation she had with Carlisle. She had heard Emmett tell Rosalie that he loved her and she didn't know what that meant, so as any of us would do, she had asked Carlisle. Carlisle had tried to describe love to her as profound and deep affection for someone else. She remembered him telling her that he loves his parents, Esme, his kids, and even her.

I love you, Daddy. Even in her head, her voice was meek. I froze and for the seventh time in a hundred and five years, I felt as if my dead heart could beat. The first few times I'd experienced it, I had struggled for words to describe the feeling that spread through me. But this time I knew. Happiness, pure joy, pride, love filled me. I was drowning in them.

Before Bella, my life had been a never-ending night, and meeting Bella completely altered me, changed me to a point where I only ever thought of her before anyone else. The night sky had lit up with a million stars. But now, as this tiny child in my arms told me that she loved me, I felt my world change again. This time, it revolved around the both of them. It felt as if another heart had grown inside of me or simply my heart had gotten bigger, adjusted itself so it could fit my love for both of them. The night was no longer dark, but it was glowing, shining so brightly that I basked in its light. A new kind of heat spread through me. No, it enveloped me, hugging me, surrounding me. Now, I understood now why Bella never complained about my temperature, and how Renesmee was so comfortable with it.

Love was a kind of warmth on its own.

I kissed my daughter on her blushing cheek. "I love you, too, princess."


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