So who all saw BD2? I sat in the theater the whole time, imagining writing a one shot why my Bella and Edward and Nessie from this watched the movie and talked the whole time about whoever wrote it got everything about their lives wrong. It was totally weird.
Sorry, I'm rambling. It's because I'm so dang nervous about this chapter.
There it is, the story of Vanessa.
Let me know what you think.
Donna is an awesome beta and Dana says such lovely things.
I don't own anything.
The longer I burn the more I'm convinced I'll never see Edward again. The fire that sears my bones is surely not the mark of heaven, and there is no other place my husband could possibly be.
I've never been as good as him, so really it makes sense. If one of us were to be damned for eternity, it would without question be me. The way I lusted for him before we were married. The way I cursed God when I lost my mother.
Really, I should have been expecting this outcome when I gave up on living.
That's a very large sin in itself, isn't it? To attempt to take some control over your life when really it should all be left up to the will of God? Yes, this damnation shouldn't come as a surprise, but it does.
I did say my prayers every night. I was a decent Christian, certainly better than Clara.
Oh, Clara. How she'll cry over my wasted life. It wasn't only Elizabeth and Edward Sr. I abandoned as I willing embraced death, but Clara too.
All the family I had left in the world, discarded as easily and thoughtlessly as I closed my eyes. Perhaps I deserve this eternal fire, separated from my love.
I'm held still, condemned to lie motionless as hell consumes me. I am not even granted the relief of writhing and moaning in pain. It is so dark I wonder if I still have eyes.
As my body burns the mental pain of knowing that I've hurt the ones I love compounds the physical pain. The worst is the realization that Edward is lost to me forever. Hellfire and brimstone are nothing compared to the knowledge that I'll spend the rest of eternity without the man I love, my missing component.
The burning lasts forever. I feel movement in my lower belly, the pain there different but still sharp. Although I might be imagining it, I feel as though my legs are gently pulled apart.
It doesn't matter. I don't even have eyes anymore. The strangeness in my lower half fades, and I burn and burn and burn.
There is a change so subtle at first I think I'm imagining it. The surface of my skin seems to be cooling. Slowly, the fire feels as though it is flickering out. The pain in my bones is deep, but bearable. My fingers are released from their suffering, followed by my toes. When my ankles are extinguished, I finally accept that my torment is coming to an end. My limbs burn out, followed by my head and torso.
The scorching pain burns bright, concentrated and hotter than anything I thought possible, in my heart. I want to cry out because the torment is unbearable, but I'm still frozen. Totally immobilized.
A silent scream of agony takes up residence in my throat, and just when it seems like the pain will rip me apart if I must endure it for another moment, abruptly I cool. The fire in my chest is blown out and I'm left hard and cold and frozen in place.
When I take stock of my body I'm alarmed to feel no movement, no heartbeat, and no blood pumping through my veins. After the pain I assumed I would need to calm my elevated heart rate only to find my heart still in my chest.
Guess I really am dead after all. This is a very strange after life.
I attempt to open my eyes but fail. My body continues to lie on a rather comfortable surface while I can do nothing but imagine what comes next. Maybe this is hell, being trapped inside my head, body useless. The devil mocks me, reminds me of my final days, and how I sought this. I failed to fight for my body, allowing my head to conjure up Edward.
Edward.
God, how I ache for him.
I start to hear things, proof that I'm not surrounded by emptiness. Close by someone walks. A baby cries and a man comforts. A mouse scurries across the floor.
Or at least that's my guess, although surely it isn't possible to hear such a small thing.
The return of my hearing, apparently sharpened, makes me think of Edward's laugh and the way I'll never again hear him play the piano again. My newly improved ears pick up on a short sob and it takes me a moment to realize it came from me.
Experimentally I open my mouth and take a deep breath. This appears to be my first breath since before the burning and I don't understand how I could go so long without air. Maybe it just felt long.
Still, breathing doesn't seem to be a necessity anymore. I keep doing it anyway because it feels natural. As I take in lungful after lungful of air I pick up new scents. Something that reminds me of the hospital. Perhaps I'm still there. Something else that reminds me of Edward. Surely, this is another cruel trick of my own personal hell.
There is too much scent along with the breathing to analyze.
Movements close by. Someone running across a room, their feet barely touching the wood. A door opens to my immediate right.
"Bella?"
Without even thinking about moving a muscle I find myself across the room and dropped into a defensive crouch. My eyes are wide open and I feel strong, but everything is new. My bones seem to crackle with unused energy, and instinct rather than thought has me protecting myself from this unknown.
Even as I leap out of the narrow bed that has been my flaming prison and away from the threat, I take in the man at the door. He's so painfully familiar but at the same time it's like I've never bothered to really look before.
Thousands of different shades make up his amber eyes. The planes of his face are impossibly smooth and his blond hair seems to glow. He raises his palms after pulling the door shut behind him, a universal proclamation of innocence and peace.
"Bella, it's me. It's Carlisle. Dr. Cullen."
I turn my head to study him further as something in the room hisses. I glance around, wondering how I could miss a creature with these wondrously improved senses, before I understand that I made that sound.
I let out a surprised squeak and slap my hands over my mouth, absolutely appalled that I've hissed at Dr. Cullen! Although the small, plain, wooden room is very obviously not the hospital, I must be alive. How would Dr. Cullen find his way into hell? This must be some strange new symptom of my fever. Maybe I managed to fight it after all.
Some part of me is disappointed. Death would mark the end of my journey without Edward, short as it may have been. I'm so tired of pitifully attempting to live as half a person.
Lord forgive me, I hissed at Dr. Cullen! Like a cat! What on earth has gotten in to me?
"I hissed at you," I whisper from behind my hands. I watch him with wide, horrified eyes. He looks so painfully nervous, it's making me nervous. "It was horribly inappropriate and I do apologize. Why don't I need to breathe? Have you always had so much smell to you? Did the fever improve my hearing somehow? A moment ago I heard a mouse scurrying about."
All this seems to explode out of my mouth, and I wait for my cheeks to burn with familiar embarrassment. But this time they don't. I tentatively remove a hand from my mouth and press it to my face. My skin is a uniform temperature, warm but not heated as they should be after what I just said.
I sound so strange, so unlike myself. I sound almost beautiful.
"Bella," he says, talking with extreme calm as if he's addressing some skittish animal. "You've experienced a great change. It is going to come as quite the shock, but there are things I need to explain to you."
"Have you always had that musical quality to your voice? Have your teeth always been so many shades of white? And so sharp? They are extremely sharp. How can I tell that they are extremely sharp?"
Dr. Cullen takes another step towards me and this time I actually growl. Growl! Elizabeth raised a proper lady and I've never even thought about making a sound like that in my whole life. It's so aggressive and unlike me. This is the moment I realize I'm still in a defensive crouch, my back to the wall and my eyes trained on Dr. Cullen.
Ready to attack.
No, that's not right. Elizabeth only did half my raising. Mother. My mother did the first half. What was her name? How can I forget her name?
Panicked now I let out a whimper.
"What was her name? My mother? I can't remember! Why can't I remember?" I demand.
"Bella." Dr. Cullen's soft reply alarms me all over and I tense.
My body considers him a threat. I can feel it. What on earth could be threatening about Dr. Cullen? Nothing makes any sense.
The world looks new. Different. Like I can see all these little components I missed in my first twenty years of life.
"Bella," he continues. I've never heard him use my name with such frequency and it's putting me on edge. I'm already so jittery with not understanding where I am or how I got here. "I did something rash."
"Did what? I'm different. I can see and smell and hear and taste everything!" I bury my face in my hands, so ashamed that I'm speaking to him that way.
"I know. Everything looks new now. You're senses are sharper, stronger, super human," he attempts to explain. Still, I can't quite grasp what he's trying to tell me.
"Then I'm not dead?" I ask, peaking up at him. "But I'm sure that I am dead. Really, I thought I died."
"I'm so sorry, Isabella," he says. I believe him too because I can hear the pain in his every syllable. "But you are, in fact, dead."
"I don't understand!" I shriek, still alarmed by the bell-like quality now present in my voice. I stare down at my pale hands, noticing the dust swirling around them and the prisms of the light as I flex them.
I'm dead but that was supposed to mean Edward. I'm supposed to be with Edward.
I feel strong. All my muscles tingle with the need to expend energy, and my throat burns with the need… for something else I can't place. I ignore all of it, needing answers only.
"What… what happened?" I manage. In my angst I've straightened to get a better look at him. Logically I know Dr. Cullen is a healer, that he would never hurt me. Still, there is something about his scent that has my body going on the defensive. It takes me a moment to override that impulse.
Dr. Cullen stares at me as if I'm about to explode for a moment.
"What is it?" I ask.
"I'm sorry. You are just not acting like I expected. Most newborns are so volatile. But you seem totally in control, if not confused."
"I have no idea what you are blathering on about," I reply.
"Can we sit?" he asks, gesturing at the bed and a small chair pulled up to the side. Dr. Cullen must have sat here and watched me die.
Because he's confirmed my suspicions. I am, in fact, dead.
I feel no urge to sit, but Elizabeth's teachings are deeply ingrained in me, and I don't want to be rude. I perch on the foot of the bed. Dr. Cullen drags the chair back, giving me some space but facing me just the same.
Sitting feels so unnatural, but I do it without fidgeting as I continue to study Dr. Cullen. How could I have never seen all that beauty when I looked at him before?
"I must confess, I haven't been quite honest with you, Isabella," he says, looking properly ashamed.
"In what way, Dr. Cullen?"
"I'm not… well, I'm not entirely human."
His statement hangs heavy in the air. Before the burning and the fever, I would have dismissed him as a lunatic, but in this moment I don't feel particularly human myself.
Which seems about right because apparently I died.
"You look human," I point out. Frankly I feel like my calm should be commended. If I don't get some answers soon I might rip off his head in frustration. I've never felt such a violent urge. What's even scarier is that my muscles ache to do it: That my muscles could do it.
Dr. Cullen sighs and rubs his thumbs over his eyes. My patience wanes.
"You look human, too," he finally replies. "For the most part. Bella, I am so sorry. I did something to you that you might not appreciate."
I stare at him blankly, wishing he would just spit out whatever has him so disturbed. Maybe this is a very strange form of purgatory. Certainly I never read about anything like this in the good book.
"Over the past few years, I've come to regard you and your husband with such affection. Do you remember your husband?"
I growl again, totally offended by this absurd question. Does he think so little of me that a small amount of burning and a lot of confusion would cause me to forget my other half? My everything?
"Right," Dr. Cullen says, correctly interpreting my livid expression. He appears shocked and confused but quickly moves on. "I got to know Edward quite well throughout his training and I was absolutely devastated to hear about his death."
I take in a gulp of air, preparing to cry. I touch my face in surprise when the tears don't come. It feels like I'm crying but there's nothing remotely moist about my strangely temperate face.
And why is Dr. Cullen telling me this? We talked at Edward's funeral. Surely it wasn't so long ago that he expects me to have forgotten.
"I resolved to look out for you, Bella," he explains. "In every limited way I could. I visited you daily before we decided to bring you to the hospital for round the clock care. I've never seen anything like it. Almost as though you gave up."
"Of course I gave up, you twit," I snap. The rudeness thoroughly alarms me all over again, but I press on. "I know it's horrible, losing the will to live when people like Clara and Elizabeth and Edward Sr. needs me to continue, but I just couldn't."
"You remember them?" he asks in awe. "You remember all this? From your fever?"
"Was it that long ago? Of course I remember them. And what did you do to my fever? I quite enjoyed it. Edward was there. Dream Edward was wonderful, but I knew he couldn't stay and the only way to make it permanent was to see my husband in heaven. But instead I died and here I am with you!" By the end of my little speech I'm yelling. Somewhere buried deep I feel compassion for Dr. Cullen who looks mortified and guilty, but in my confusion and fear seems the safer emotion.
I glance down to see that the wooden frame at the foot of the bed is completely destroyed, cracked by my hand. With a cry of alarm I throw away the wood, horrified that I'm capable of that.
"You're like me," he explains, pleading with me for understanding. "I made you like me to keep you here. To keep you existing in the world."
I have absolutely no idea what he's prattling on about.
"Where exactly are we?" I ask, glancing around the modest wooden cabin.
"Illinois," he murmurs. "About sixty miles from downtown Chicago."
Letting out a shaky breath, I slump down, suddenly so exhausted. The feeling is strange, like my body could run around the surface of the globe while my mind wants nothing more than to shut down, to get back to dream Edward.
Sixty miles from the city: And it feels like I've traveled to the sun and back.
"And when exactly did I die?" I ask.
"About three days ago," Dr. Cullen replies, looking ashamed. "Almost to the hour."
I let out a hysterical laugh that turns into a wail.
"What did you do, Dr. Cullen?" I ask, sounding as crazed as I feel. Although I can't fathom the details, I am positive that the esteemed Dr. Cullen stole my chance of an afterlife with Edward.
Rage boils my blood. I sit on my hands to prevent myself from lashing out.
"I changed you," he repeats. "I bit your neck, making you like me."
Absently I trace the smooth scar on my neck. It seems to be the one imperfection in my new and improved body, the one thing marring my flawless skin.
"And what exactly are you, Dr. Cullen? Just say it. Out loud."
He closes his amber eyes and takes a deep breath.
"Vampire," is his reply.
There is a beat of silence in which we simple stare at each other.
"A vampire?" I repeat with a raised eyebrow. With each passing moment spent in the company of the good doctor I become more convinced that he's completely off his rocker.
I cross my arms over my chest and study him with skepticism.
No wonder I died, with a kook like this responsible for my recovery.
"Yes," he says, wringing his hands. His obvious nerves are trying my very fragile hold on calm.
"Oh really?" I ask with false sweetness. "Where are the fangs?" I demand, running my tongue of over my straight, albeit somewhat sharper, teeth. "Do I have the ability to turn into a bat? Does this make you Dracula?"
"No," Dr. Cullen says. "Dracula is really a rather troubled fellow and quite antisocial. He would never bend to some bizarre compulsion to create a companion."
I stare at him for a long moment. He looks uncomfortable under my gaze.
"You, Dr. Cullen," I say, rising gracefully from my position on the bed, "belong in the mental hospital. The moment I get back to Chicago I will be discussing this little escapade with the board. I'm blurry on the details, but I'm convinced you've kidnapped me for some nefarious purpose. It may have worked when I was weak and fever riddled, but I'm strong now. I'd like to see you try, the way I feel now. You'll be dead before you can lay a fingertip on me."
As insane as it sounds, I believe my own words. This post-fever strength leaves me capable of defending myself. I'm sure of it.
"Wait," Dr. Cullen says, scrambling after me. He gets between me and the door. I growl at him. "I'm telling the truth, Bella—"
"That's Mrs. Masen to you, sir," I snap.
"Mrs. Masen," he says, grabbing a mirror off the dresser and shoving it in my face. "Look."
"What, am I supposed to be convinced by my lack of reflection? That's the myth, is it n—"
I stop babbling abruptly when I finally do as Dr. Cullen insists. The mirror is not devoid of my image, as I taunted it would be. Instead I gaze upon the unearthly creature reflected back at me. She is me and not me all at once. We share basic features, but her perfection is not something any women could hope to achieve.
Smooth, pale skin.
Full red lips.
High, ideal cheekbones and sculpted brows:
All arranged perfectly on the heart-shaped face that is familiar but better somehow.
I take this all in even as I stare intently at the eyes. Lifting an elegant hand to touch an eyelid is the only thing that convinces me that this hauntingly beautiful creature reflected back is actually me.
Edward was always particularly fond of my eyes. Big, brown, and heavily lashed, I too thought them to be my best feature.
This probably remains true, but it's difficult for me to really analyze my new and improved eyes. I'm too distracted by their color.
Red.
Blood red.
I stare into my own blood red gaze for a full ten minutes before I'm forced to accept Dr. Cullen's version of reality.
Monsters do exist. Now I'm one of them. Dead, but not dead. Unalive, but here, defying nature with my very existence. Soulless. Damned.
"Oh, Edward." My murmur is a broken wail. I sink to the floor, pulling my legs tight to my chest and hiding my face in my knees. I pretend to cry. Apparently demons aren't granted the blessing of this form of release. "You stole my happy ending," I say, glancing up at Dr. Cullen. Moments ago I was furious. Now I let the misery overtake me. "My one chance at being with my husband."
God is punishing me for giving up my life, for so easily disregarding his precious gift.
"I'm so sorry," Dr. Cullen mutters, wisely giving me space. His words are so quiet I only hear them because of my new, super-human, apparently vampiric abilities. "So very, very sorry."
I sit perfectly still for a long moment, aware of Dr. Cullen hovering but ignoring his presence. My body screams at me to get up, to defend myself from this creature who stole my afterlife, who made me into something wicked.
Only, I don't feel wicked. Strong and angry, yes. But not wicked. Before this moment I haven't let myself think on the very basics of what it means to be a vampire.
I'm a killer now, right? Or I will be in the very near future. Do I crave human blood? Human life? Is that what sustains me? The thought of taking a life is abhorrent to me. I've seen what death does to a family first hand. Every perspective victim is someone's Edward.
No, I could never do that, even if it meant survival.
Obviously the end of my human life demonstrates how little regard I hold for my own survival.
"Why?" I say with a hiss, suddenly needing to know. The venom in my voice scares me. Anger and hatred that sound so unlike the person I used to be.
Dr. Cullen looks like he's on the verge of totally falling apart. Why aren't his eyes red like mine?
The man responsible for my damnation slumps dejectedly against the wooden wall of the cabin. "I wish I had a answer, but I honestly cannot say," he murmurs, avoiding my gaze.
"Do try to find one then, doctor," I spit out. My creator must be the demonic sort. I wonder how many of his patients turn into victims. It must be so easy for him, the way he's trusted as a healer.
And all this time he's been the exact opposite.
"I've never turned someone before," he confesses. "Despite the utter loneliness of being one of very few vampires to choose this lifestyle, I never really considered bestowing this curse upon anyone. I've longed for companionship, but I didn't think I was this selfish."
He looks far beyond me, his eyes unfocused as if he's forgotten I'm here at all.
"What lifestyle?" I ask, unmoved by his claims of eternal loneliness.
He blinks his strange amber eyes rapidly. They are darker than I remember, but the color remains unusual, especially when compared to my own alarming shade.
"Lord," he mutters to himself, rubbing his eyes with his thumbs again. "I'm such a fool. There is so much to say."
"Well?" I demand.
"I do not adhere to a traditional vampiric diet," he says in a rush.
I blink at him in confusion for a moment before I translate what he's trying to tell me. "You don't eat people? You don't drink blood?"
"Yes and no," he answers with a slight chuckle. "I don't 'eat people' as you so charmingly put it but I do drink blood. Animal blood. Not as appetizing perhaps, but still offers sustenance."
I pout a little, irritated that there is an alternative means to survival. Not wanting to be a killer will not be an excuse to give up for a second time.
"It's possible, Bella," he says, taking a rushed step towards me. The movement makes it harder to ignore how threatening his presence makes me feel, and I press myself into the bed at my back. Realizing that he's scared me he abruptly stops. "That burning in your throat, the overwhelming urge to feed? You don't have to give into it. It will take time, but someday you will learn to live without hurting anyone. You're humanity is still buried deep. I know I can't make you do anything, but I will be here to help you try. That's all I ask, and I know I have no right to ask even that."
His little speech makes absolutely no sense to me. I feel no burn, a slight tingling that is easily ignored, but no burn. Beside the physical alterations I feel no different than I did pre fever. My humanity feels intact, despite the way Dr. Cullen talks.
His words do make me consider the fluttering heartbeat in the next room. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but if it's a person I feel no urge to feed on it. None at all.
"I don't need to try," I tell him with a shrug. "I've had enough of death. It won't be a problem."
Dr. Cullen gapes at me in shock. "You're not crazed with blood lust?" he whispers.
"Not that I'm aware of," I reply dryly.
"Fascinating," he whispers reverently. "You are an enigma, Mrs. Masen. Truly remarkable! Although I've never changed someone before, I can assure you that it's not normally like this. In the beginning very little of the person is left within the newborn. The demon demands blood. In the first year that's all the typical newborn cares about. You always remained immobile during your transformation. I wonder why."
I don't want to be a demon demanding blood.
"I don't feel like that," I say, puzzled. "Will I start to be like that?" I ask, truly terrified for the first time since I succumbed to fever.
"No," Dr. Cullen says, sounding confident. "No, Bella. I won't allow it."
I give him a small smile. I'll still be this. I'll still be Bella.
Except I don't want to be anything in this world. I'm forced to bury my face in my knees again when I think of Edward.
"Newborns normally don't remember much from their human lives either," Dr. Cullen says his voice gentle.
"I can't remember my mother's name," I whisper, so ashamed to admit I've forgotten. Everything but her voice.
"Renee. Vanessa Renee Swan, but she was known as Renee. She was gone long before I got to Chicago, but I attended enough functions hosted by your mother-in-law to hear about her."
Renee. Renee Swan. She loved my father, Charles Swan, and they both loved me. Father couldn't even look at me after she died, succumbed to fever. Just like me.
Good thing father died sometime recently or my passing surely would have killed him.
"But you remember the rest?" Dr. Cullen pushes: "Edward, Clara and the Masen's?"
I nod into my knees. I can see their faces so vividly in my mind, they could be standing right in front of me. Edward is clearest of all, of course, but my memories seem intact for the most part. My youth is hazy, but the important parts are there.
"You are a very unusual vampire, Bella," he informs me.
I blink up at him, embarrassed. My telling blush is one thing I will not miss.
"My apologies," I murmur.
Dr. Cullen lets out a chuckle, but it trails off when he gets a good look at my face.
"You must loath me," he says. "Really, I don't know what I was thinking. Immortality is the last thing you must want."
I take a few deep breaths as I try to absorb this latest piece of disturbing information.
"Do I have a soul?" I ask. "I mean, I could still get an after life with Edward, right? Maybe this is God's plan. Maybe He's telling me that I rushed into death without fighting to be alive. Can vampires die at all? Maybe I just have to wait for death to be with Edward."
The little flicker of hope is painful and terrifying.
"It's very difficult to kill us," Dr. Cullen says, looking so sad. I realize it's for me but it doesn't really help. "But it's certainly possible. As for a soul… this I could not say. But I can't imagine someone like you, totally devoid of any urge to give into the vampiric nature and kill, soulless."
I look at him for the first time in a long time and give him a slight smile.
"Thank you," I say, oddly touched in this extremely upsetting moment. "This is just… so much."
Dr. Cullen winces. My eyes narrow. The look on his face plainly says that there is actually more. What it could possible be I can't even conceive.
"Just… tell me," I say. Dr. Cullen stares at me for a moment, obviously surprised that I understood the situation so quickly. I hold a finger up, indicating that I need one moment.
Closing my eyes, I breath deeply albeit unnecessarily. I clear my mind, focusing on nothing but inhaling and exhaling. It's strange that my life – or unlife – is no longer tethered to this act. Breathing provides comfort and still serves to calm me down, something I did often before the fever.
After a few minutes I feel as though I've succeeded in clearing my mind. I open my eyes and nod at Dr. Cullen. At my go ahead the words explode from his mouth at a disquieting rate.
"I can't explain why I did this to you," he assures me. "To venture a guess, to attempt to give you a reason, I would have to hypothesize that it is a combination of things. My loneliness, my desire for a companion, coupled with my affection for you and your late husband and an overwhelming scientific curiosity made me lose my mind for a moment brief enough… to… bite you. My venom changed you. That's how it works, you see. The venom. You have venom in your veins now. Like me."
He pauses for a moment, watching me to gauge my reaction.
"Curious?" I ask. I can begin to understand his other reasons. Loneliness makes people act oddly, and he's obviously always been fond of Edward and I. Scientific curiosity? What does that mean?
Dr. Cullen swallows, looking painfully uncomfortable once again. He opens his mouth and I lean forward, feeling that whatever is about to come out of his mouth will change everything.
Again, for the third time in as many days.
And then I hear it, just a little cry from beyond the bedroom door that seems to pierce my unbeating heart. My head whips around, and I stare at the hunk of wood that separates my purgatory from the rest of the world. Odd to think that life goes on outside these four, simple walls.
The cry is followed by a whimper, and I'm on my feet. Now that I'm focused for the first time on something outside this small bedroom, I can identify the steady breathing and heartbeat of a tiny human.
"Dr. Cullen," I say, my voice low in my fury. "What exactly is going on here? Surely you didn't lie to me about your vegetarian vampirism only to bring me a baby as a first meal? A little introduction to the demonic way of life?"
Dr. Cullen's eyes go wide with horror. "No! I would never! That's…" He stutters in a way that would be comical if I wasn't so livid.
"Dr. Cullen!" I yell, hoping to focus him.
"That's the reason for my curiosity!" he manages. "Mrs. Masen, you were on the verge of death, with child, and I wanted to know what happened. Never in my wildest dreams…"
"What!" I shriek, recoiling. What Dr. Cullen is claiming is far too wonderful and terrible to truly contemplate. "I was… with Edward's…" I can't bear to speak the words. "And you didn't think to tell me! I didn't know and I just let myself waste away. For what? So I could become your little science experiment!"
I'm astounded to find myself advancing on Dr. Cullen. The compulsion to get violent is something I'm going to need to get used too. And learn to control.
"I did tell you! We all told you, but you were too far-gone. You were weak and delirious and we couldn't make you understand!"
A growl rumbles low in my throat. Logically, I know he's probably right but there is so much raging inside of me, anger is far more appealing that completely breaking down.
I'm dead.
I'm a vampire.
Vampires apparently exist, although despite the red-eyed situation I feel no different.
I was pregnant.
I was pregnant with Edward's child and too consumed by my own misery to recognize the now very obvious signs.
I was pregnant with Edward's child and didn't fight for my life. For his child's life.
Something is crying in the next room and as of three days ago I was pregnant with Edward's child.
"Dr. Cullen," I whisper, the panic rising in my chest. I flap my hands around and fail to get a hold of my breathing. "What—"
Impossibly fast footsteps approaching momentarily distract me. A door slams and I instinctively move into a defensive crouch.
"Carlisle!" The clear voice from the other room somehow manages to be raspy and tinkling at the same time. In another breath I pick up on the faintly sweet scent that I'm already recognizing as that of a vampire. "Where art thou, Carlisle?"
I let out a hiss, not liking this interruption.
"In the bedroom, Kate," Dr. Cullen calls out. The exhaustion is clear in his voice.
The door slowly creaks open and I tense, preparing for attack.
"Wow," says the strikingly beautiful creature that steps through the threshold. White-blond hair surrounds her unblemished face. Her eyes are a lighter version of Carlisle's. "You're up. I thought we had a few more hours yet, or I wouldn't have gone hunting."
I scowl at Dr. Cullen, wondering if all his claims of loneliness were mere fabrication.
"Did Carlisle explain everything?" she asks. "You are so beautiful, Isabella."
The familiarity with which she speaks irritates me, but her words are spoken with such warmth and honesty, I relax slightly.
"I'm working on it, Kate," he murmurs, studying my face. I can feel his gaze on me, even as I watch the newcomer.
"I know, darling girl," Kate says. She makes no move to approach me, even as she looks at me with nothing but sympathy and compassion. "I remember the confusion well. It took me months to really believe that it wasn't all a strange dream. Mind you this was some five hundred years ago, but I imagine it's similar."
My eyes go wide. Five hundred years. I resolve to think on this later. There's not much room in my head for anything at the moment.
"How rude of me," the tall, Nordic woman continues. "I'm Kate. My two sisters and I have known Carlisle for centuries. I was in the neighborhood when he got himself into this… little situation. Thought I could be helpful."
I stare at Kate for a long moment before my knees buckle.
"Little situation," I murmur, clutching my head as I sit heavily on the bed. "Christ, I'm dreaming. This is the fever only. I'm still in a hospital bed. I'm still in a hospital bed. I'm still in a hospital bed. I'm still—"
"Bella," Dr. Cullen says, interrupting my hysterical chanting. "You're here. This is real. And you're a mother."
A mother.
Dr. Cullen's words force me to connect my alleged pregnancy to the occasional whimper in the next room.
"I… mother… baby… Edward?"
I've gone unintelligible: A few more deep breaths before turning my wide eyes on Dr. Cullen.
"You're a mother," he repeats with a small smile. "Never in my wildest dreams did I think something like this would happen, but the change must have accelerated your pregnancy. It was a miracle to watch. I have no idea why or how you stayed so still during the transformation, but you gave birth. She's two days old."
My useless heart seems to drop to my stomach.
"She?" I whisper. My whole being is focused on the fluttering heartbeat in the next room. "She? She lives?"
"It's all quite confusing to me, but yes. You gave birth, although you hardly noticed the pain of that during the burning. She lives. She breathes. She enjoys milk, but much prefers blood. For two days now," he explains.
I recoil at the image that forms in my head of a demon child, feasting off the human remains of those I love.
"So she's a…" I'm too afraid to ask.
"No," Dr. Cullen says, shaking his head. "She's extraordinary, Bella. Neither human nor vampire. A hybrid, it seems. Nothing like I've ever seen. She appears stronger than your average infant, but nothing like an immortal child."
Kate shivers violently. I decide not to ask for details. Apparently I now must suffer the burden of immortality. I have time for these questions, but I must know about my child. His child.
Our hybrid baby.
"She's so sweet, Bella," Kate assures me. "Cooing and happy. She has this gift… well, you'll see."
The realization that this stranger knows my daughter before me snaps me out of my shock. I must see her. Abruptly I stand on unsteady feet. Kate and Dr. Cullen rush to block my path to my daughter. I growl and must quell the almost overwhelming urge to violently force them out of my way.
"Move!" I yell, consumed with the urgent need to see my child, to see what remains of Edward on this earthly plane. I need to see that she isn't a monster.
"Bella," Dr. Cullen says, speaking to me like one would a wild animal. "We need to proceed carefully. We have to protect your daughter."
"From what?" I scream back. "I'm her mother. Now move of out my way!"
"She's part human," yells back a suddenly irate Kate. "You're remarkably in control for a newborn, but you're a vampire now. And what do vampires eat?"
My mouth drops open in horror.
"I would never—" I start.
"You lose yourself," Kate continues.
"Bella doesn't seem to suffer from any blood lust," Dr. Cullen explains. "It's remarkable and totally unique, but you haven't really been around your natural food source yet. You haven't had to combat the burn in your throat and the ache in your limbs that long to hunt people. What is the harm in proceeding with caution, Bella?"
In this moment, I truly do loathe him. Not only because I see that he's right but also because I blame him entirely for the whole situation. I resent the fact that my nature is no longer human. I resent Dr. Cullen for turning me into something that can't be trusted not to eat my own daughter!
"Fine," I reply with a huff, relaxing slightly. "But I will meet my daughter. What do you suggest we do?"
Dr. Cullen relaxes slightly. Kate does not.
"There is so much you will learn about the world now," Dr. Cullen muses. I growl, trying to get him back to the topic at hand. "Right. There are vampires with special abilities that surpass those of the typical vampire. These special gifts can be almost anything. The ability to see the future. The ability to inflict blindness. Anything. Kate can incapacitate with a sort of electrical charge. She has different levels of shock, but I've seen her highest strength put a vampire down for fifteen minutes. She just needs to touch your skin. That's why Kate is here. Newborns are exceptionally strong in their first year as their bodies garner strength from their own human blood supply. If you wanted to hurt your daughter, I would not be able to stop you. That's why Kate is here."
I regard Kate warily. And she seemed so nice only moments ago. She smirks at me.
"What are you saying?" I ask.
"I propose that you let Kate hold your hand as we move together as a group to see your daughter in the next room. You must be very honest with your urges. Once you get used to being so close, Kate will let you go. If the bloodlust overcomes you, Kate will shock you to protect your daughter, giving me time to get her to safety."
I scowl at Kate, hating the idea that she has such power over me. Still, I will not take any chances with the safety of my child.
Oh God. I have a child. Edward's child.
I take a deep, calming breath and nod at Dr. Cullen, letting Kate take a hold of my hand. I decide I don't like this stunning blonde vampire and I have to look up to make eye contact.
Oh heavens. I'm about to meet my daughter.
We move through the door, a strange little parade, and into the main room of this small cabin. The furnishings are simple and rustic, the walls wood. Across the room, under a big window, is a crib. I'm unable to see inside, but my daughter is obviously there, feet away.
I move quicker. Kate tugs on my elbow, giving me a pointed look. I scowl at her. Suddenly, I don't know what I want – to see her or to not. I've always wanted to be a mother, but not like this.
Alone. Husbandless. Vampire.
The little thing fusing across the room deserves much better.
But then it's too late to go back now because Dr. Cullen is lifting my child into his arms. Some need to be protective flares in my chest and I take a rushed step forward before I remember that I'm the threat to my child here, if these strangers are to be believed.
And I believe Dr. Cullen. Before all this, he was so good to Edward, so good to me. Even if in this moment I'm furious at him for turning me and my child into some strange experiment to satisfy his twisted curiosities.
My unneeded breath catches in my chest when I get a good look at her for the first time.
She's… perfect. Absolutely perfect. For the first time I feel no fear or agony. I forget my misery.
I'm filled with hope and it stuns me.
Her tiny hand clutches Dr. Cullen's finger as she turns her bright eyes on me. They are big and expressive, hold an intellect that seems to transcend her age. Surely at two days old no normal child could study me so critically.
She looks at me with familiar eyes, eyes that once looked back at me daily from the mirror. My eyes.
"Oh, Edward," I murmur, totally in awe of the baby held a safe distance away. "Look what we did. Thank you, God."
Everything about her is beautiful, from the fuzzy bronze hair on her head to her precious toenails. Even her skin seems to glow slightly in the sunlight. She shines. She sparkles.
I stare at her for long minutes, before I realize that Kate and Dr. Cullen are looking at me with the same intensity with which I look at my daughter.
"Feeling… hungry?" Kate asks, raising a pale eyebrow at me.
"What? No!" I cry with a hiss, cringing away from my captor. "She's mine! I would never hurt her. It is now clear to me that she is my one reason for existing at all. She even smells like me! And my late husband! I do not feel one prickle of this supposed blood lust you two are so concerned with. Now unhand me at once."
The steel in my tone is also new. Perhaps every change is not to be loathed.
Kate glares at me before turning to shoot a questioning glance to Dr. Cullen.
"She's fine, Kate," Dr. Cullen murmurs, smiling down at the cooing bundle in his arms. "Look at her. Her humanity remains, almost unchanged. Truly, she's a wonder. Let her go."
I'm so consumed with the need to touch my child, to meet her and convince myself that she's real, that I don't even acknowledge the doctors kind words.
Suddenly, I'm nervous. Although nothing about her enchanting scent smells like food, I worry about this supposed nature that my companions can't seem to get over.
What if I'll turn into a typical, violent vampire at any moment? Should I even be around my daughter?
I take two steps forward and one step back.
"Bella," Dr. Cullen says in his mellow, calming doctor tones. "You're her mother. It will be fine. Come, meet your daughter."
Despite my displeasure with the good doctor, I trust his opinion. Even after all this, something compels me to trust him. Now seems as good a time as any to trust my instinct to… trust.
I find myself standing inches from Dr. Cullen and my daughter. I stare down at her in wonder, still frightened that I'll ruin this somehow. That she won't be real somehow.
But then Carlisle is placing her gently in my arms and she's very solid and completely real. I gasp at her warmth. I only have my fellow vampires to compare her too, but she's different, warm and pliant, but still much more sturdy than I would have imagined.
I'm flooded with a rush of love, so very different from what I remember experiencing before, yet very much the same. This is my child, the life I created with the man that I love.
All I have left of him.
I let out a strangled sob, part sorrow, mostly joy, as I cuddle her closer to my chest. My daughter coos and snuggles closer. I reach up to stroke her cheek, unable to tear my gaze from her face.
She's just so stunningly perfect: The only thing giving my new unlife any meaning.
I'm vaguely aware of Dr. Cullen and Kate talking in hushed tones across the room. Somehow, along with the super senses, my brain seems to work in different ways. I'm able to be totally focused on the child in my arms while listening and absorbing at the same time.
"I shocked her, Carlisle," Kate is saying.
"Pardon?"
"When she first stared to rush forward," Kate continues, voice low and urgent. "Just a little zap to remind her of the danger."
"And? Surely this isn't you feeling guilty for using your gift for the first time in your long life," Dr. Cullen replies.
My daughter latches onto my finger, just as she did with Dr. Cullen earlier. I hold perfection in my arms.
"No," Kate snaps, impatient. "It didn't work."
A beat of silence in which my daughter almost smiles at me:
"What ever do you mean?" Dr. Cullen is serious now, concerned for his intimidating and beautiful companion
"She didn't feel it," Kate says.
"Are you sure?"
"I've been doing this long enough, Carlisle," she replies with a huff. "I know when it works. She did stop, but there was no flinch, nothing. She didn't even glance in my direction or gasp in surprise. Something is wrong here."
Dr. Cullen takes her hand. I hear a crackle, see a flash out of the corner of my eyes, and Carlisle grunts slightly.
I feel her soft skin, kiss her cheeks, and breathe her in deep.
"Well, it's not you," he mutters.
Kate sighs with relief.
"That's something for another day," Dr. Cullen continues. I'm well aware that they're discussing me. Something is wrong with me, making it so I don't feel Kate's shock, but in this moment I don't care about anything but this precious treasure that has become my whole life – or unlife – in the last few minutes.
I spend hours cuddling with my child. We get to know each other and I've never loved in this way.
"Bella," Dr. Cullen murmurs sometimes later. "What's her name?"
"Vanessa," I reply, having decided this, hours ago. "Vanessa Elizabeth Masen."
"After your mothers," he says, nodding in approval.
"Yes," I say, smiling. I'm glad he's now included Elizabeth in this category. I always have. "After my mothers."
Vanessa makes me miss Edward more and less at the same time. She sharpens and soothes the pain of his loss simultaneously.
And I will do everything in my power to make a perfect life for her.
So there are some answers. The next chapter won't take too long, but reviews are wonderful motivation. I'm just sayin'.
As always, thank you so very much for reading.