A/N: Wow… Two chapters in 24 hours. Bloody productive if I do say so myself. So please read and review. I love you all for being so patient with me. On with the show!

Disclaimer: I never have and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight. I am but a poor student. She is a God. Enjoy.

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Chapter Eleven: Fear

. . . . . . . .Part One: Bella. . . . . . . . .

I woke as the clock struck six o'clock in Edward's study. Sharp pain shot from my lower back through my torso and I felt as if I would faint from it. I felt a spasm ripple through my abdomen and I screamed as the pain intensified.

"Edward!" I gasped, just as he woke in a panic, turning on the bedside lamp.

"Bella? Bella, what's wrong?" he demanded, his hands grasping my arms to keep me from flailing. Another shock of pain. The baby!

"Call the doctor! Call the doctor now!" I shrieked. Edward yanked back the duvet, exposing my naked legs. The sheets were soaked in crimson.

"MOTHER!" he shouted as he plucked me from the sheets. He ran toward the door, yanking it open with difficulty as he cradled me against his chest.

"Edward? Bella? Whatever is the matter? What on earth… Bella!" she gasped, seeing the stained on my nightdress. I moaned in pain. The sharp shocks had subsided but in its place was a hollow, muted sort of agony.

"Where did the doctor say to take her?" he demanded, carefully wrapping me in a coat as Elizabeth grabbed a dress and coat for me. "…I'm afraid she's losing the baby," he added in an undertone.

My world spun to a halt. I feared it, and his words confirmed that fear. No… No! My precious little boy, bright eyes, sweet face – My vision blurred and spun as Edward shifted me. I could no longer understand what he said. I was dimly aware that he and Elizabeth were speaking and moving frantically, but it no longer reached me. Another jolt of pain and everything went black.

When I woke again, I smelled ammonia and iodine. The scents made me nauseous but I fought back the urge to retch successfully before opening my eyes. My hands automatically flew to my stomach and I sighed in relief. It was still swollen with E.J. At my caress, he fluttered, tapping a quick tattoo against my ribs before settling down.

"Mrs. Masen?" a masked nun came into the room. From the shape of her eyes I could tell she was smiling. "How do you feel?" she asked, checking something off on a clipboard before checking my vitals.

"A little… confused, but the pain is gone. I remember passing out… Where am I?"

"Saint Anthony's, Mrs. Masen. Mr. Masen and Madam Masen brought you in early yesterday morning. You almost went into premature labor. The doctor was able to stop it by giving you a sedative. Both you and your child are well, but I'm afraid you'll have to stay here for the remainder of your pregnancy," she said a little apologetically. She was young, barely older than myself.

"And Mr. Masen? Where is he?" I asked eagerly, just grateful that everything was all right.

"He and Madam Masen have been in the waiting room since yesterday. And Mr. Masen – God bless him – only left you when we called a specialist. After that, he and your mother settled down. Your physician, Dr. Morgan, came in earlier to check on you. He'll be making scheduled visits from now on, and Miss Jones is staying next door."

"I see… May I see my husband?" I asked, a little anxious. I hated to be away from him. A pained look overcame her face. She started fidgeting with her clipboard.

"Mrs. Masen, I'm afraid not. The Governor has issued a state of emergency in Chicago… I'm sorry, but only those who are ill or in need of intensive care can go past the waiting room in the hospitals until the state of emergency is lifted. It's to keep the influenza from spreading," she finished with a sympathetic look at me.

"Edward cannot come see me?" I asked, choking on the words.

She shook her head no, patting my hand.

"He won't see the birth of our child?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Masen… It's to keep both you and the baby safe until he or she is born and you are strong enough to care for him on your own," said the nun with finality. I hung my head, slumping against the pillows again.

I am not sure how long I slept. I only know that when I woke, the sun slanted through the blinds at a lower angle than before. The behabited nurse stood by my doorway.

"You've slept most of the day, Mrs. Masen. I'm truly sorry about your circumstances… I'm Sister Agatha, by the way," she said in a softer tone, sitting beside my bed. "I'm your assigned nurse so I'll be checking in on you. I can take you to prayer if you like, as well," she added.

"Thank you, Agatha." A thought struck me, then. "Is it… would it be possible to speak on the phone with Edward?" I asked with new hope. A smile lit up her face. She really was a gentle creature.

"Yes! If you like, I can bring a wheelchair and you can call now. The doctor was going to call him later to let him know you woke, anyway."

"Yes, please! As soon as possible, sister," I gasped in excitement. E.J. Reacted to my fluttering heart and I rubbed a soothing palm over my navel.

. . . . . . . . Part Two: Edward . . . . . . . .

I paced back in forth in front of the offending telephone. Why in God's name had it not rung yet? It was simply ridiculous. We were outside of the quarantined zones. Neither my mother nor myself had set foot in a hospital since Bella had visited Mercy hospital five months ago. I spared a quick glance at my mother as I passed the parlor door. She was just as worried as I was. I heard her expel a sigh while I continued my trek – back and forth, back and forth. From the parlor entrance to the kitchen door. Again. And Again.

Ri-Ring. Ri-ring.

I dashed to the phone, almost yanking the receiver away from the black box in my haste. My knuckles were white as I clutched it tightly, speaking into the phone rapidly.

"Masen-residence-Edward-Masen-Speaking!"

"Edward?"

My heart stuttered as I registered Bella's lovely, anxious voice. I braced my hand against the wall, struggling to keep from collapsing. My knees felt dangerously weak. My Bella, my heart, sounded healthy.

"Bella, tell me truly, are you well? And the child?"

"Both of us are fine, Darling," she said, her voice full of relief. It warmed my heart. I leaned against the wall, covering my eyes with my hand, trying to control my own relief.

"Edward?" she called through the sudden silence.

"I'm here, love," I answered reverently. I did not care if she was apart from me, for now, so long as she was safe. My world, my soul… If being with me was a danger to her – and obviously it was – then she should be as far from me as necessary. I smiled as I listened to my Bella. Strange muffled sounds came from the phone, and I frowned.

"I'm sorry, Edward," she sobbed suddenly. My heart broke all over again at the sound.

"No, no, Bella! Don't apologize! Please don't cry, my love… It's not your fault. Not at all. If anything… It's my callousness that caused your present condition. Please, love, do not cry on my behalf," I moaned into the phone. I knew I was begging and I did not care. I was not ashamed to express my love for her, least of all around my mother.

"B-but you ca-can't see us un-until after," she whimpered. My arms itched with the desire to be wrapped around her, comforting her, holding her and soothing her.

"It doesn't matter, Bella," I whispered into the phone, hoping she would hear me. "I want you to do something for me, love," I pleaded before pausing, waiting for her answer.

"Y-yes, anything…"

"You mustn't worry about me, Bella. I know this is for you to heal, to keep you safe. Just focus on staying healthy and delivering our beautiful child. Promise me Isabella. For me, please just focus on protecting your health and that of our baby."

"…I… Yes. Of course, Edward. Will you call me?" she sounded as if she were afraid I would deny her. I fought the smile that threatened at the corners of my mouth.

"Of course, silly girl. You've stolen my heart. How could I not call and reassure myself that you're keeping it safe? You are my everything, Bella. Without you, my world is an empty shell. An endless night with neither stars nor moon." I heard someone speak to her about dinner on her end.

"Bella, go eat dinner. I want you to eat as much as you can, do you understand?"

"Yes. I will. I love you, Edward," she said in a whisper. I imagined the blush that must be blooming on her cheeks and sighed, longing to be with her again.

"As I you, my darling wife. I will call during lunch tomorrow," I promised. The other voice was becoming more insistent. "Go now, love. I will call."

"Alright. Good-bye," she said a little sadly. The words pulled on my heartstrings. I was so impossibly bound to her. My brunette beauty.

I sighed as I hung up the receiver and slid down against the wall with my head in my hands. I could not linger here too long. Mother would worry. But I could spare a few moments to let the intense relief and remorse flow over me.

If I had not given into my desire that night, Bella and the baby would not be apart from me. Now that they were safe, I would take our separation as a just punishment. I could bear it, for her. After all, it was I who put her there. Agony at that thought tore through my mind, but I quickly whipped it into submission. I finally stood and walked to where Mother waited for my report in the parlor.

"She and the baby are well, and she has access to a phone. I intend to call her again tomorrow during lunch and after dinner."

"That is such a relief!" Mother said, her dainty hand fluttering over her heart.

A relief. It was the greatest understatement I had heard in years.

In the morning I woke and ate a slice of bread with butter before going to the office. I walked briskly through the nearly deserted streets. People were caught up in the hysteria associated with the Influenza more than they were falling ill. Though Father had succumbed to the illness, I refused to let fear rule what I did and did not do.

The office was already abuzz when I walked through the door.

"Mr. Masen!" called Joshua, the secretary. I could tell he was worried. He had a soft spot for my Bella – indeed, my whole family. His own father had worked with mine since Joshua was a small boy. I answered his question before he could ask it.

"She's well. But she's being confined to the hospital to protect her and the baby from the epidemic."

"Oh… Then is she allowed –"

"No, no visitors."

"Aw, shucks…"

I cringed at the expression on his face. "Please try to remember that Mrs. Bella Masen is happily married and with child, Joshua," I said with no small amount of annoyance in my voice. I saw my black expression reflected back at me in his eyes and was a bit smug when he cringed and rushed away. Others were quick to replace him, however.

"Mr. Masen," rushed Jason, our liaison to the Governor's office and the Chicago Police Department, "Chief Swan asked that you call him right away. He said Madam Masen called him last night and that –"

"Not to worry, Jason, I'll take care of it." I felt a little shame at forgetting my father-in-law. The poor man was probably frantic with worry. "Is he in the office already?"

"Yes, Sir!" Jason confirmed.

"Then I'll call him straightaway," I assured him as I took the stairs to the fifth floor.

Since Father's death, I had invested in a few changes of office. All of the attorneys working under myself or hired by the state shared offices in the topmost floor. The offices were situated on one side of the floor, with a receptionist's desk directly by elevators, and research and attorneys' assistants' offices to the south of the elevators. My destination, my private office, was nearest to the receptionist's kiosk.

Miss Porter was a highly efficient secretary as well as telephone operator. As the main law firm of the state, the Masen-Stanley attorneys at law had the privilege of housing its own telephone switch service.

"Miss Porter, please connect me with the Chief of Police," I directed as I passed her desk on my way to my office. She answered me with a smile and a nod before I shut my office door behind me. I waited for the telephone to ring only for a moment.

"Edward Masen speaking."

"Edward! Have you heard from the doctor or Bella? How is she?" Charlie demanded. He was as upset as I had imagined he would be.

"She's perfectly fine, Charlie. Because of the state of emergency she cannot have visitors, however. Saint Anthony's is one of the few hospitals that has been designated for normal illnesses and expectant mothers, so they do not allow for any chance of contamination. Dr. Morgan says she is closer to delivery than ever and that she and the child will be released after both of them are deemed healthy enough."

"What a relief… Is it alright to call?" he asked. I could tell now that his worries were mostly relieved, he was beginning to be frustrated with me for not calling earlier and with the hospital for not contacting him.

"Of course, Charlie. She's in the maternity ward at Saint Anthony's. Dr. Morgan is still overseeing everything and Miss Jones is staying in the room adjacent to Bella's."

"Fine. Try to keep me updated from now on, Masen! She may be your wife but she's my daughter first and foremost!"

I tried not to chuckle at the demand. I hoped that I could be as good a father.

"Of course, Sir. Should Mother and I expect you for lunch Sunday after mass?" Charlie seemed to debate it for a moment, grumbling incomprehensively.

"Yes. I wouldn't want to disappoint Elizabeth."

"Then I'll see you Sunday, Charlie. Good day."

With a chuckle I hung up the phone, pushing it to the corner of my desk. It was June. Bella was due between late June and July. I would only have to wait so long before I had her wrapped safely in my arms again. Smiling for what felt like the first time in years at the office, I took the stairs to my office and started the day's work.

I smirked as I strode into the courtroom. This was going to be pathetically easy. The defense the defendant had built was based on circumstance and little more. Furthermore, I knew what the other attorney did not truly care whether the man went to jail or not. He was court-appointed. A sham at best when it came to defending those who really deserved incarceration and worse.

The proceedings lasted only two hours. The jury ruled guilty on all charges. The accused glared daggers at me, and I was repulsed by the monstrosities that boiled just behind his shadowed eyes. The man was a rapist and a serial murderer. He had stolen young girls from orphanages, from work, from school, and had beaten, raped, and killed them with all the enjoyment of a child at the fair. I was only glad that I could help put the monster behind bars.

A smile lit my face briefly as I thought about that. Father had been right. I could serve my country, in my city, right here at home by doing what I did best. I could read people, I could see the truth easier than my colleagues, and jail the monsters that threatened to destroy people's happiness from right outside their yards. I could also defend those who needed to be defended. And above all, I could deal this justice without saying goodbye to my Bella. And God only knew – if I had not found her, I could be one of the belatedly reported dead in the Tribune.

I would not have been able to create the life that now grew inside her womb.

My heart warmed at the thought of my wife, round with my child, glowing with it. As soon as she was home with me again, with him, my life would once again be complete. Damn the war. Damn the rest of the world. So long as I had her – my angel – and our child, I was content.

The day's work done, I set about tidying my office. My afternoon call to Bella had been reassuring. She seemed to be healthy, and the doctors had spoken to me after Bella was finished telling me about her morning. They had said that they projected her release for as soon as the baby was born.

I had my doubts, but hearing the news was far more than welcome. Even if it was a long shot in the dark, I could at least have something to hope for. The sooner I had her in my arms, the better.

At four thirty I hailed a cab for home. The cabbie looked a little clammy and I wondered if it would be better for my health if I just walked. It would not do for me to become ill when Bella and our child depended on my health for survival. I had the man pull over six blocks away from my home. If he was indeed sick, he could not come in close contact with my home.

Mother met me on the front porch with her usual placid smile. I noticed with a little sadness that the light in her eyes had faded since Father's death. At the top of the stairs I bent to kiss her cheek and held the door open for her.

"How was your day, Mother? Did you call Bella?" I asked. She nodded and I smiled as the expression on her face changed. Bella must be well.

"She was quite excited. Apparently Dr. Morgan said that she should be going into labor sooner rather than later. He said the baby should be fine, perhaps a little on the small side, but still healthy."

"That's excellent news," I enthused. But Mother's lips tightened by the tiniest degree in the corners, and her eyes became shadowed. I frowned as I imagined what she would suggest. She did not want Bella to come home after the baby was born, that much was certain.

"Yes, excellent news. Yet… Eddie, darling, do you not agree that she and the baby would be safer staying in Saint Anthony's until this epidemic dies down just a little? What I have read thus far suggests that the young are the most vulnerable, now. Young men and women, such as Bella and yourself."

"I shall consult with Dr. Morgan on that matter, when the time comes. But for now, I see no reason to worry Bella any more than necessary."

"Of course, Eddie darling."

I followed Mother to the kitchen and sat at the table, thanking her for the meal she had already set out. She sat across from me as delicately as ever. I said grace. We began eating in silence, but I knew it would not last long. Mother's face was too composed, too tense. She had something else she wanted to say but did not know quite how to word it.

"You can tell me anything you like, Mother. You know I will always listen to your advice. You have never led me awry before." It was hard not to sound amused. Usually Mother spoke before thinking the words through all the way. This sort of behavior was suited more to my Bella.

"I received a letter from your aunt Emily," she said carefully. Whatever it is she wanted, she did not want to disclose completely. "I was contemplating making a visit. We could both use a vacation. At least until Bella's delivery." She kept her eyes carefully guarded as she met my gaze. My eyes narrowed just slightly.

"You want us to leave Chicago?"

"I cannot hide anything from you, now can I, my clever boy?" She sounded disappointed though her smile was rueful.

"Absolutely not, Mother. If you wish to go, you may, of course. I'll secure a car for you or a train ticket. Whichever you prefer, but Bella needs to know I am here," I said with conviction. As far as I was concerned, the matter was closed. A few moments passed in near-silence. Perhaps if I played the piano for her later, she would relax. I understood her worries, of course. She had said it earlier – The young are most vulnerable. Young people, such as Bella and yourself.

"…Why will you not consider it, Edward?" she exclaimed, suddenly sharp. It had been some time since she had spoken with me thus.

"Because, Mother, you are allowing yourself to be swayed by fear. Both you and I are very well aware of the disease, its symptoms, and how to avoid it. There is no legitimate reason for us to leave now. Perhaps after Bella gives birth, we all will go the country until it dies down in the city."

"What about your father, Edward? He was just as clean as you or I– What can you say about that?"

"Dumb luck. Or lack thereof in Father's case…"

"It is dangerous, Edward. Either you or I or the both of us are going to be exposed to it sooner or later. Why not remove ourselves from the danger and leave Bella safely at the hospital until the mess cleans itself up a bit?"

"You must me joking, Mother. If you think I would abandon my wife and child… You are the one who told me I was abandoning my family to go to war. And now you tell me that I must abandon my love and our son or daughter to protect you and I? Are you insane, mother?" My voice had risen in my fury. I stood, nearly knocking over my chair in the process, and abandoned my half-eaten meal. Elizabeth stood and followed me, her face flushing scarlet in her own anger.

"No, Edward! I tell you to give your whole family a chance for survival. Have you noticed that the families to our right and left have both disappeared? Almost a third of Chicago's population is reported ill or dead already!" she screamed, approaching hysterics. I strode to my mother's side and embraced her gently.

"Listen to me, Mother. We'll be fine. Nothing can hurt us as long as we remain positive and continue doing what we have been. Stay inside. I shall have the groceries delivered to the cellar door if that makes you feel more comfortable. But you are safe, as am I. After Bella gives birth, all of us will adjourn to the country. Until then, I know we can stay healthy, Mother. Do not let yourself be swayed by mass hysteria."

I stood and held her for a while. She sobbed into my shirt and I rubbed her back. I comforted her as best I could while trying to convince myself of what I had said. I knew, however, that this would not be the end of the argument.

But from then on, Mother followed what I had suggested. She stopped shopping. I placed regular orders at the grocer for deliveries of produce and canned goods. Elizabeth boiled or baked everything. We never ate anything raw. Not even fruit. We stopped going to Mass. Instead, Charlie joined us for prayer on Sunday mornings after which we would have lunch together in the back garden.

At work, I began noticing evidence to support my mother's worries. In the research offices, employees stopped showing up. There was one afternoon that we had to call an ambulance for a delirious clerk convinced that he was on fire. From the feel of his forehead, someone else would think so too, according to some other clerks. That one disappeared not long after, as well. The police department had the same problems. Charlie eventually received an order from the Governor that he was to stay home. He received reports from deputies via telephone or telegram. Yet despite all of the evidence to the contrary, the Tribune still preceded its death and illness reports with the city health officials' assurances that "the influenza matter is well in hand."

Still, refused to let myself be taken in by the fear. I was careful. I made sure my employees and coworkers were just as careful. If someone had a cough, I demanded that they wear a facemask or stay home. Sneezes and coughs were tolerated only into a handkerchief or an elbow. But outside my offices, the disease continued to spread. It seemed to be gaining velocity, as well.

My court days were less and less, as the criminals I would have put in prison often died waiting for their arraignments. The juries that would try them refused to assemble; such was the fear of infection. Police arrested fewer, both because of fear of infection and the decrease in number of officers. It helped, too, that the criminals were not immune. If anything, crime rates decreased as those that would have raped, murdered, or stolen died off.

It was Wednesday July 24, and I was staring murderously at the black wooden phone sitting inoffensively on the corner of my desk. Most of the office had left for the day to attend the Patriotic, pre-Independence Day Parade. I could hear the brass band through the open window, and the sound of people shouting the words to the songs. I had no desire to join in the festivities. There was only one sound I wanted to hear at this moment.

My child's cry.

At four-o-nine this morning, I had received a call claiming that Bella was going into labor. Mother and I had driven in my car to Saint Anthony's to wait. A nurse had promised us that she would parade my newborn child by the windowed doors leading into the treatment wards. But after being in the damned waiting room, staring hatefully at those cursed doors while I wore a path in the scratched wooden floor for nearly six hours, Mother finally managed to convince me to go to work. To take my mind of things. She promised she would call as soon as the baby was delivered so we could see him or her together. It was now past six. Over fourteen hours since the phone rang.

If only a breeze would come through the window. The excitement of the parade and the heat of July made the air feel unbearably heavy. My gaze returned to the newspaper I had been reading as a distraction. Apparently someone named Mehmed VI had succeeded the previous Ottoman Emperor. Perhaps the power shift would allow the Brits to make more headway in the East.

I imagined the surprise on my Bella's face should our child in fact turn out to be a little girl. Perfect and beautiful with dark hair, chocolate eyes, and satiny ivory skin. I imagined the joy on Charlie's face, on Elizabeth's, on Bella's.

The shrill ring of the phone jerked me from my fantasy and I scrambled forward to yank the thing to my face.

"Edward-Masen-speaking-Masen-Stanley-Firm," I gasped into the microphone.

"Mr. Masen, Madam Masen on the line for you. Would you like to accept the call?"

"Yes!" I shouted impatiently at the operator. I did not have the time to feel guilty about being so impolite.

"Edward, dear, come quickly! Sister Agatha said that the baby's coming!"

"I'll be there as soon as I can!" I rushed, trying to keep from shouting. A blast of brass music came through the window. Damn. The streets would be too crowded for the car. I would have to run a few streets down and hail a cab.

I slammed the receiver back onto the bracket without a final goodbye, running to the door, barely managing to grab my jacket and hat in my haste. Half way to the fourth floor I remembered my brief case and had to turn around. I made it to the first floor in less than a minute, and set down the sidewalk in a sprint, not bothering to lock up.

The streets were inundated with patriots. A marching band was passing, and children were running through the crowd, some undoubtedly pick-pocketing the celebrating masses. I pushed my way through the crowds, uncaring of the angry looks and curses I received. Finally I broke away from them, sprinting flat-out three blocks, holding my hat on my head the entire time. Finally I stopped upon seeing a cab, jumping out into the street in front of it. It screeched to a halt, honking at me angrily. I ignored the sound and yanked the door open, sliding in and pushing a five-dollar bill into the cabbie's hand.

"Saint Anthony's on the double! I'll give you twenty dollars if you get me there fast!"

The cabbie sped off immediately, swerving around other cars as we raced to our destination.

I opened the door before he had stopped completely, throwing money behind me as I ran to the doors. I fumbled with the handle in my nervousness, cursing when it refused to open quickly. After what felt like twenty minutes I finally managed to yank the stupid thing open and barrel into the waiting area, startling many of the people sitting there.

"Eddie!" Mother cried from near the doors. She was sitting in the chair closest to the treatment facility entrance, wringing her gloved hands. I went to her side, too excited to sit.

"What have they said? Is she doing well?"

"They haven't come out except to tell me that the baby's nearly here."

"When was that?" I begged, running a hand through my hair nervously. It was habit that I had fought to control upon entering manhood, but frankly I did not care if anyone saw me in a state of dishevelment.

"Nearly twenty minutes ago. It took me a while to get to a telephone. I had to make a sizable donation to the poor box."

"You bribed a nun?" I asked distractedly.

"No, dear, I made a donation to the poor," Elizabeth corrected diplomatically.

"How long do you think it will be?" I groaned, unable to keep from pacing, glancing every other turn at the doors.

"I don't know, dear."

We fell into silence as I wore a trail into the floor. My shoes tapped against the hardwood in an angry tattoo. Please, God, let them be safe, I begged with all my heart. Mother had taken out her rosary and was praying under her breath as well. A thought occurred to me.

"Did you call Charlie?" I asked, fearing the retribution if no one had notified him.

"Of course, Dear. But he's quite a bit older than you it will take him longer to arrive."

"Mr. Masen? Madam Masen?" A nurse called, walking through the waiting room doors. She wore a tired smile.

"Sister Agatha!" cried Mother, rushing to take the girl's hands in hers.

"Miss Jones is going to walk Edward Anthony Masen III by the doors in a moment. I'm sorry you cannot hold him yet, but he and Bella need to stay with us until they're both strong enough to withstand infection," Sister Agatha explained as she led us both to stand by the windowed doors.

"I have a son?" I whispered, ignoring everything else she had said. My eyes had found Miss Jones walking toward us from the Maternity ward. I nearly pressed my nose to glass as I zeroed in on the little bundle wrapped in her arms. I could almost discern the pink face swaddled in the white cotton blanket.

"Oh, Edward…" gasped my mother at my side. She clutched my arm tightly, and I did not care that I lost the feeling in my fingers. Behind us, I registered Charlie's shouts as he demanded to know where Bella was, and then felt him press up behind us to see through the glass as well.

Miss Jones stood as close as she could to the locked door and held up the little bundle. Bronze curls circled a plump face. The tiny eyes were the same shape as Bella's, as well as the perfect lips. I noted my ears. Charlie's curls. What appeared to be the beginnings of my nose.

"My son," I breathed reverently. I worshipped the little cotton-wrapped angel. I knew Charlie and Elizabeth were crying at my flanks. I felt moisture on my cheeks and knew I was as well.

"And Bella?" I heard myself asking, "Is Bella alright?" I did not turn to look as Sister Agatha answered me.

"She's resting. She did miraculously well for a first-time mother. Congratulations to you all."

She left quietly, leaving us to marvel out the little boy that already had us entrapped, wrapped around his little fingers completely. The baby slept in Miss Jones' arms, and she seemed just fine with standing there and rocking the little boy. After an hour, she turned and left. Charlie, Mother, and I started to protest, but before we could complain to the receptionist Miss Jones was wheeling Bella, baby in arms, to the door.

"I love you!" she called, the sound significantly muffled by the thick door.

"As I you, Bella!" I called back, unashamed, smiling triumphantly, adoringly, at my beautiful wife. She held our son so protectively. I knew both of them would be strong and well enough to leave, soon.

"We're taking you to the country after you recover some, Bella!" said Elizabeth, smiling at her grandson.

"I cannot wait!" she called back. "We have to go now… Will you come visit tomorrow?" she asked hopefully. Sister Agatha appeared at her side and shook her head sadly. Bella worried her bottom lip but quickly recovered. "I'll see you soon! I love you all!"

Sister Agatha and Miss Jones rolled her away and I sighed, turning to smile at my mother and father-in-law. I saw it in their eyes. The elation. The joy of having a grandchild had erased the fear from their visages. Only happiness and hope remained.

. . . . . . .

A/N: Haroo! Pass around the cigars Edward and Bella fans! I know. It's a boy. Bella was right. I'm going to warn you to be aware of the date. It's July, Edward dies in August at the height of the Spanish Influenza pandemic. Get your tissue boxes ready. The next chapter probably won't be posted for a while, but of course, your reviews will get it up faster. Thanks everyone who has followed this story and to everyone who reviews. But it still makes me sad that only 27 people have reviewed thus far. Please feed my muse. Will work for food and all that. Happy reading!