I drew in a sharp breath as his teeth grazed the skin on my wrist. I knew it was coming, but that did not prepare me for the pain. It seemed so much worse than the first time when his teeth finally broke my skin. I struggled to compose myself and not let the cries of pain escape me. I wriggled slightly in discomfort and his arm tightened around me to hold me still. Fiery spasms of pain shot through my arm and a small moan escaped me. I could feel the blood leaving me and I could count each mouthful he indulged in. One mouthful, two mouthfuls. How much blood could I afford to lose before I lost consciousness? Three, four. A better question, yet, how much could I afford to lose before I died? Five, six. He was taking too much, I could feel myself getting weaker. I raised my unoccupied hand and pinched the bridge of my nose shut so I didn't smell the blood that I could feel dampening the skin around his icy lips. Seven, eight. I longed to see him, but hishead was ducked out of my view and his mouth still securely connected to my wrist. I felt nauseated and I could feel the familiar darkness settling over me. No, I had to stay awake. I had to make sure he stopped, but then… what could I do. There was no way I could stop him. The pain washed over me again and I cried out. Unconsciousness was looking more and more attractive every minute. At least if I were passed out, I could escape from the hurt, if even for a short while. Even so, I stubbornly struggled to retain my coherency. I had to at least see his face before I passed over into the blissful unconscious known as sleep for the last time. He drank more. Surely I could not survive this. Every swallow brought me closer and closer to death, but then, it was over. The face of my angel swam before me. Even through my unclear and hazy vision, I could see the pain and the longing in his eyes. He longed for more, he needed more of my precious blood, but his love for me was denying him his thirst. The hunger in his eyes was accompanied by a deep and recognizable regret. Edward's lips were blood stained and his unneeded breath was coming out in thick gasps. As his breath washed over my face, the usual sweet scent was replaced with the sickening and immediately assessable rusty scent of blood.
"Ugh," I groaned as I felt my head snap backwards and dangle lifelessly over the support of his cold arm.
"Bella?" He frantically searched for a response, "Bella! Oh no, oh no, please no!" My body shook with the sobs that were not my own. "No, what have I done, oh my God, BELLA!" He gently shook me. I longed to reach out and comfort him, but I couldn't. Was I really dying? "Bella!" He shouted again. "Oh, God. Carlisle!"
I heard the door open and shut and suddenly I felt a cold hand circle around my wound-free wrist.
"Carlisle, I took too much, I think I may have…. Oh no…"
"Edward, she's alive. Her pulse is weak, you definitely took too much, but she will make it. She will probably be unconscious for a while though." I felt the sudden urge to sigh in relief. I wasn't dead. That was good. "There is nothing I can do to help you while she is passed out like this. Let her sleep as long as possible. I will be in the hallway. She will be in a lot of pain when she awakens."
I decided very quickly that my current situation was not fair. I was not asleep, I could hear everything they were saying… but I couldn't respond. What was worse, I could feel every ounce of pain coursing through my body, and couldn't even react to it. I was confined in the prison of my body with no communication to the outside world, and I couldn't make a final escape to the sanctuary of sleep. I began to pout mentally. If I could have, I would have crossed my arms and grumbled some incoherent swear words, but as it stood, I couldn't. I heard Carlisle's exit become pronounced by the click of the door. As soon as he was gone, Edward tucked my body securely in the blankets and clutched me to him. His breath still smelled like blood and I mentally cringed away from it, but physically there was no escaping the torment. As the searing heat crippled my mind, I vaguely heard Edward whimpering in the background,
"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm so, so sorry. I don't want you to hurt, I'm sorry. I wish there was another way, I'm such a selfish bastard for taking your life like this." If I could have, I would have reached out and smacked him.
Pain rippled through my every pore with such force that I began to become appreciative of my immobile state. I wouldn't have been able to withstand this agony without writhing and screaming in pain if I wasn't in this vegetative state. As if the burning in my veins wasn't enough, an additional burning in the pit of my stomach joined it. It was the same pain from earlier, only much more pronounced and vigilant. The added pain sent my mind into a fit of spasms, and then the same incapacitation that had taken my body finally consumed my mind and everything went blank and happily numb.
As my unconsciousness lessened and lessened, I began writhing on the bed. Carlisle came in from his adamant post outside the bedroom and helped my sobbing husband pin me to the bed. I could feel that the sheets were wet from my pools of sweat, but I didn't care. I tossed and turned and every now and then a scream would escape me. I wanted to die. I was ashamed to even think it, but there was a long period of time where I wished Edward wouldn't have stopped drinking. I wished he would have just sucked me dry and saved me this pain.
Though I tried so hard to conceal it, they knew I was in pain. It was worse when Jasper wasn't around. He sat close to the bed wincing from a lower degree of my agony trying to place a calm and serene mood upon me. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes I fought it. He would occasionally rise and grab my hand in his when I went into a common fit of anguish. I could feel him recoil as my waves of distress poured over him, but he never deviated. He stayed by my side as long as I needed him.
Jasper, Edward, and Carlisle were the three that stayed constantly. Alice came and went, but I knew it was too hard for her to see me like this. A part of me wondered how awful this must be for Edward and knew that it would be an incomparable amount next to the rest. Esme flitted in and out repeatedly bringing me wet towels to put on my head and sponge the sweat off with and she held my hand when it was available. I only remember brief visits from Emmett. He would kneel by the bed and rub my back encouragingly as I twisted contorted in agony. I remember him whispering something about how great it will be when I could kick his ass and to be strong and look to the future. The visits I remember the most, though were the ones from Rosalie. I was still not used to this new bond that had sprung up between us, but aside from Edward, she was the most helpful to me. She said nothing, but she curled up beside me and she held my hand for hours at a time. She was even better than Edward was at being a statue. She didn't try to restrain me, she didn't try to comfort me with words and tell me that it would be alright, she just held my hand and let me look into her eyes for as long as I needed to. Her soundless support gave me something to take the focus away from all of the pain for a while, though the distraction never lasted long. I tried so hard not to let any noise come out of my mouth because I knew that all that would do was make things harder for Edward and it certainly wasn't going to make things better for me.
I felt everything, though. Every contraction of my hardening muscles, every painful beat of my heart - propelling the venom deeper and deeper, every layer of my skin solidifying and every vein in my body burning, I felt it all. It was an inescapable torture that I had willingly placed on myself. I tried to remind myself of all of the positive. Not being breakable, for one…. Being able to kick Jacob's ass myself, for another… and being able to make love to my husband without caution..
Like everything, however, those thoughts could only distract me so efficiently before the full force of my pain hit me again.
The morning came on the third day to find me doubled over on my side gasping for air. Carlisle said that it gets better when my heart stops beating, but it was still going full speed. Every beat sent new waves of pain through me. I was becoming annoyed with some repetitive noise that was echoing in the room, but became even more ashamed when I discovered that the noise was my own gasping and moaning
"Edward." I would repeat constantly.
"Yes, love, I'm here, I will never leave you."
"It hurts, Edward."
"I know, Bella. I'm so sorry."
"My stomach burns."
"Everything burns." He countered.
"Especially that, though." I admitted.
He looked up to Carlisle and received only a shrug in response.
"How much longer."
"Her heart should stop beating soon." Carlisle responded.
At that, Edward swooped his head down and laid it on my hardened chest and listened to my heart slow, and then beat its final beat. I was please when it finally gave up the fight. The burning vanished almost everywhere, but the crippling pain in my abdomen doubled.
"What is that?" Edward's voice suddenly became concerned. "Carlisle, what is that!"
I strained my ears to listen. Even though I could feel that my heart was immobile, I could still hear the steady rhythm of a faint heartbeat coming from somewhere. Who would bring a human to a house with a newborn? I wondered through the pain.
"She smell's wrong too." He whispered. "There's something different."
"Shit." I groaned as I doubled over again. I was still a freak.
"What is it, Carlisle, what's wrong?" Edward's voice became frantic.
"I don't…." His voice trailed off as he studied me some more… "No, it can't be…"
"What?" Edward was shouting now. I really wished he wouldn't. It hurt my ears.
"Edward," Carlisle said in a hushed tone that was obviously not meant for me to hear. My ears had turned bionic, though, it seemed, and I picked it up without problem. "Edward, I think she's pregnant."
All time came to a roaring halt. I forgot the pain that was tearing at my stomach, I forgot the change I had just made and the move that was ahead of me, and I suddenly felt sick.
He was wrong. He must be. Even if I was pregnant before, I couldn't still be now… after a change like that. No baby could survive it… it was impossible, I wouldn't accept it.
But even through my adamant denial, a small part of me was unconvinced. It pondered quietly as the rest of my mind was in a protesting uproar… I once classified the existence of vampires and werewolves as an impossibility…is there really such a thing as impossible?
A/N
Before you all FREAK OUT on me about the medical inconsistencies and the impossibility of this happening, let me remind you that this is a fiction.
fic·tion fíksh'n n
1. literary works of imagination: novels and stories that describe imaginary people and events
2. work of fiction: a novel, story, or other work of fiction
It's not true, it's not real life, its my imagination. Roll with it and don't give me too much crap about it. If you don't like it, then don't read it.
But for those who will remain supportive even as I confirm your worst fears, I thank you graciously and promise a hasty update asap.
This is the second one in a night though…
