EPOV

My body was aching, and I felt cold sweat chilling against my hairline. I tried to sit up, but I could barely open my eyes, let alone move around.

"Where am I," I mumbled. I knew that I was trying to speak, but I doubted that anyone else could have made out what I was saying. I thought back to how we'd just been at home in Forks. I was holding my ill daughter and Alice was with me. We'd been wondering what our own trials would be. Was this immense pain my trial to bear?

I heard the scuffling of shoes against a hard floor, the clinking of what seemed to be metal against some sort of glass, coughing and wailing of many people, and hushed voices discussing plans for "the patients" once they passed away.

I tried to focus on the sound of one of the female voices, trying to get inside her head and find out where I was and what was going on. I strained to listen, but no inner thoughts came to my mind. I could only hear what anyone with a pair of working ears could hear.

Again, I tried to sit up.

"Now, now, young Mr. Masen," said a kind female voice. I felt her gently place a warm, moist towel against my fevered forehead, which alleviated some of the discomfort. "You shouldn't try to move so much. You need to relax as much as you're able to."

"His condition is worsening," said a familiar voice behind her. "Just like his mother."

"Carlisle!" I knew it was him. He would be able to tell me what was going on. "Carlisle, it's me! Edward!"

"There, there," the kind voice continued. "Go to sleep. Try to get some rest."

I used all of my might to turn around and push my body up as best as I was able. I tried to open my eyes only to find that the room was spinning around me. Everything looked like it was covered with a strange mist. The pain in my abdomen was so overwhelming that I lost my grip on the raggedy mattress and fell sideways onto the hard floor. I moaned weakly at the pain that followed the fall. I hadn't experienced physical pain in over a hundred years, and the way it was rushing back to me now was paralyzing.

"Help me lift him up," Carlisle said. I felt several hands raise me up and place me back onto the bed. "Son, what were you thinking?"

"Carlisle," I repeated, "It's me!"

Why was he acting like he had no idea who I was?

"Mr. Masen," he had started to say, but I couldn't focus on a single word. I was so overcome with shock as I realized that I wasn't a vampire… yet. It was 1918, and I was in a hospital in Chicago on the verge of death.

"My mother," I said, realizing that I was interrupting him. "Please, Dr. Cullen. Tell me, is Elizabeth Masen still alive?"

I heard him whisper something to somebody else – probably one of the nurses that had helped him lift me back into bed. More whispers joined the conversation and it sounded like there was some sort of disagreement.

"He'll find out soon enough," Carlisle said in such a tone as to indicate that he had the final say in some matter. "Help him to her quarters."

I opened my eyes, able to see a little better this time. The room had stopped spinning, but the aches all over my body, especially in my middle, caused me to instinctively buckle forward. Two nurses clung to either side of me, making sure I didn't topple over.

"Mr. Masen," an elderly, stern looking nurse said as we went through a doorway. She looked to her left and right as if to make sure that there was no one around to hear her. "Your mother is especially unwell. Perhaps it would be more prudent to remember her the way she was."

"I want to see her," I insisted. My voice cracked, sounding desperate. "I want to see Mother."

She and the other nurse - a younger girl, probably no older than I was - continued to help me down a long hallway and into another large room. There were dozens of cots all in long rows on either side of the area. Each one had an ivory sheet hanging on either side of it so as to create the feel of a private room. Many of the beds were empty. There were women, the bottom half of their faces wrapped in mask-like linens, changing the sheets. We continued down the row and I looked to my left to see a nurse closing a small girl's eyes. Had she died just now?

"Just a little farther, sir," said the younger nurse. Her eyes were full of compassion.

"But I'm telling you now that you might not like what you'll see," said the first nurse who had advised against my coming here. She seemed rather annoyed at having to drag me all this way.

One of the nurses dropped a sheet serving as a wall on one side of my mother's cot as the other held me up as best she could. Mother was turned over on her side, looking away. I wanted to rush over to her and give her any aid I could possibly provide, but I couldn't even stand on my own, let alone walk anywhere. I grew impatient at the thought of waiting any longer to see her face.

"Please hurry," I urged the nurse who was dropping the sheet. She pushed a cot closer to my mother's cot and together they worked to lay me down.

"Mrs. Elizabeth," the younger, sweeter nurse announced. "Your son has come to see you."

For the first time in over a hundred years, I heard the sound of Mother's voice. I regretted that it sounded so tattered and anguished.

"Edward," she called, her voice raspy.

"Mother."

The younger nurse helped my mother turn over so that we could see one another.

"I've missed you, son."

"I've missed you, too." My eyes were welling up as I realized that a void inside of me was being filled with something that I hadn't realized I was missing. I reached my hand toward her, offering it to her. Her face indicated signs of pain as she, too, reached for me.

"We'll leave you be for awhile," said the stern nurse.

"Oh, Edward! I didn't know if I'd ever get to see you again."

"I'm here, Mother."

"I wish there was a way to save us now." She looked afraid.

I considered her words and had an epiphany. If Carlisle had changed me and I had been restored from this illness, why couldn't he do the same for her?

"I know a way," I promised, giving her hand a squeeze. I saw tears rolling down her face. "Mother, why are you crying?"

"I just wish it were true," she sobbed. "I wish there could really be a way for us both to live. For so many years I've feared that I would lose you to the War. Now I'm losing you before you're even of age to enlist." She closed her eyes tightly, continuing to sob.

"No. You're not losing me, Mother. And I'm not going to lose you again, either." I had made up my mind. I called for a nurse. The elderly one came rushing in to see why I had called. She looked at my mother, as if relieved that she wasn't dead yet. "Please," I begged her, "Will you please bring us Doctor Cullen?"

"There are other people less ill than the pair of you who need his attention more right now, boy," she countered, aggressively pushing her fist against her hip.

My body was weak, but my temper was growing hot. I knew that there was little time left to do this – to change my mother before her heart stopped beating.

"Bring him to me," I said assertively.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise and turned to go. "Not sure what he thinks can be done now to save her," she muttered as she turned to get Carlisle.

"I already spoke with Doctor Cullen today," Mother said. "I'm afraid there's no hope for me now, my precious boy. They moved me in here a few hours ago to be away from the others, so I could die in peace without startling the other patients. A little boy younger than you died in that cot you're on less than half an hour ago." Again, she looked afraid.

"You're not going to die," I said with resounding hope. I smiled at her. "We're both not going to die today. Not ever."

She sighed and winced in pain. "I feel myself starting to slip already. I've been lying here, wondering why the good Lord hasn't taken me already."

"You're not going anywhere."

Through her pain, she managed a small laugh. "Oh, Edward, if only that were really true! How I've always longed to see you grown and married with children of your own." I thought back to Bella, Brook, and Catie as she spoke of my future. "I would give anything to have a daughter-in-law and grandchildren. I hope you will have many! I always desired a large family, but God only saw fit to bless me with one. But he made you so very special, son. He must've known I'd get to have only you."

"You have so much more to see," I said. I was excited at the thought that I'd get to introduce her to Bella and our daughters. I so much wanted her to be a part of our family. "You'll have a beautiful daughter-in-law, and two twin granddaughters," I promised. "They will love you so much!"

She smiled. "I like our little game we have here," she whispered. "I like imagining all that may yet be for us."

"I can't imagine what he wants," the old nurse said hotly as she escorted Carlisle to my and Mother's cots. "I told him that you weren't to be bothered."

"It's alright, Blanche. Why don't you and Wilma tend to the other patients and come get me if anything severe occurs?"

Blanche nodded her head sternly and gave me a mean glare before she departed.

"Edward," Carlisle said, sitting down on the edge of my cot. He had always had such a gentle presence, even before the modern theories of delicate bedside manners were developed. "What is it that I can do for you?"

"Carlisle," I said, looking straight into his eyes. I sat up, regardless of the terrible pain that racked my body. "You can heal us."

"I wish that were true, son."

"No, you know what I mean!"

He tilted his head, a curious look on his face.

"You can change us. Make us like you."

"How do you mean like me? Whole? Healthy?"

"No. Unable to die!"

"Edward, I wish that were true. I really do. There is nothing more that I would like to do for every person in this hospital…"

"I know you feel like what you can do would be a curse for us all, but I'm willing to live that way. I want to live that way. I want to be a vampire!"

"A what," he gasped. He stood up. "Son, it is probably just that you're delirious from the fever you've suffered, but I can assure you that I know of no such thing!"

I sprung forward and gripped his hand. "Why are you lying to me," I screamed. "Why won't you help me?!"

He tried to pull away, which hurt my body so very much, but I held on anyway, desperate for him to make the decision to turn us into vampires. I ground my nails into the flesh on the top of his hand. I wanted to make him know that I knew that he couldn't be injured.

I was struck with fear when I saw his hand begin to bleed.