SMs characters, my story. Thanks so much for reading it.

Especial thanks to nicnicd who stayed up late with me last night on Skype and helped me make this better. Any and all misused commas, run on sentences and split infinitives are my fault.

I usually hate switching POV's, but if you've read my story, The Very Thought of You, then you know I'll do it if I think it's important. In this chapter, it is.

Chapter 21 – Birth

We often give our enemies the means for our own destruction, The Eagle and the Arrow, Aesop

I could hear the panic of my child as Bella's uterus contracted around it. Instantly it started fighting back. "Relax," I said to both it and Bella as the pain from the contraction overwhelmed both of them. Jacob was sitting there gaping in surprise, unsure of what to do. I threw him a phone, one of the satellite ones that Alice had purchased for all of us. "Go outside and use this to call Carlisle in from hunting, NOW!" I screamed as I tried to turn Bella onto her back in the bed.

As fast as I could fly I grabbed the medical bag from under the bed and retrieved the syringe of morphine that had been prepared in case of emergency. I wrenched Bella's arm over, zeroing in on her vein and injecting the shot as fast I could move. The child's panic was rising and I could hear it calling out to me that it wanted out.

"Soon, be patient little one," I cried to it, hoping it understood. "You don't want to kill your mother."

I watched as the morphine took effect; Bella had been screaming to me to save her child as it rolled and writhed in panic inside of her, but was finally calming under the sedative's effects. I reached back into the bag and grabbed the scalpel, making a typical cesarean cut along the bottom of her abdomen and into her uterus just as another contraction took hold, once again clamping down on the child. I watched in horror as it started to kick its feet, wanting to be free from the cramping, but the amniotic sack wouldn't cut.

Hoping to rip it with my fingers so I could free my child, I reached in but it wouldn't give. As I stood there for a second wondering what to do I heard Alice running as fast as possible toward the cabin followed by the rest of the family. In her mind she was screaming to me that Joham was near... at least that was the face in her mind. Panicked now, I cast out past her, looking for his thoughts. Apparently he hadn't believed that I hadn't located a mother for my child and had been searching for me, and he wasn't alone. All his daughters, along with his son, accompanied him.

He'd brought his 'army.' A low oath left my lips as dread began to fill me. I picked up his thoughts and could discern he was approximately four miles away. He was intent on taking my child and adding it to his own family. His plan was to build up his army to overthrow the Volturi and eventually rule over the vampires of the world in their place.

Bella was bleeding, the smell almost overpowering. I fought against my instincts, not wanting to harm her or my child as I went to reach for the phone, only to realize that Jacob had it. "Alice!" I called out, knowing she was now close enough to hear me, "call my phone. Jacob has it, tell him to call in the wolves. Bella is having the baby."

"What?" she replied in a half a second of surprise before whipping out her phone and placing the call. I listened to that conversation as I contemplated what to do to save my child. Bella's color was ashen due to the blood loss and I knew that if I didn't do something fast I would lose them both.

Suddenly the child acted. Realizing the best way out, it reached out to bite with its teeth in the area that was lighter. The sack split open just as I heard the crash of the Cullens engaging in battle with Joham and his army. I couldn't pick out the awareness of his son in the melee but didn't look too hard for him.

All my attention was focused on the small face I saw before me. I reached in and drew forth my child, cradling her in my arms. I was so amazed by her, absolutely enthralled. I looked into her eyes—Bella's eyes—staring back at me. Her hair was matted with the blood and fluids of birth but I could tell that the coloring was closer to my own. She was a true mix of both of us and in that moment I felt that overwhelming love Jasper had shown me before. I was a father; my perfect little girl was real and here and I'd never been so elated.

Washing off our child, I looked at her in awe as Bella lay dying on the bed. The only sound that could possibly draw me from this moment caught my attention then; I could hear her heart slowing.

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Then silence. Suddenly it seemed as if my own heart had stopped with hers, shattering into a million pieces in the next second. I had promised her I'd save her. I'd promised Jacob and my family I wouldn't break the treaty.

I looked at the child in my arms and saw her looking to her mother, stretching out her tiny arm almost in supplication at the same time Jacob entered the fray. For a scant second, I watched as he grabbed a hold of Joham's arm and pulled him off of Emmett while simultaneously calling out to the other wolves in his mind. The little girl looked up at me, breaking into the scene of violence with gentle, pleading thoughts full of confusion and pain over not hearing Bella's vital beat any more.

A wolf howled outside drawing my mind back to Jacob's presence, and through his mind I could hear that his pack wasn't far away. "Save her!" he was screaming to me as one of Joham's daughters began fighting him to save her father. "It's what she wanted, the treaty be damned!"

With his word that all would be right, I quickly and carefully set down my child, rushing to Bella and biting down through her throat into her artery. Grabbing the metal syringes from the bag I stabbed one deep into her chest, straight into her heart. Begging her to hold on, I began chest compressions to push the venom through, interspersing biting her at key points to force the venom and licking the wound closed, with giving her breaths. I could hear my child's smile; she knew I was trying, and my hope joined with hers as I worked.

I heard a scream from one of the dhampirs outside followed by Emmett laughing in his kill. I couldn't join him; I had to keep working on Bella. Never had time stretched so long for me. I was a vampire, and as thus never tired, but I did grow discouraged. What if I couldn't save her? What if I had waited too long? What if Joham and his family won?

At the thought that she wouldn't survive, the pain of crying welled up in my soul, and I knew then that I could never be parted from her. She was my life, my everything. Pain wrenched through my soul at the thought of losing her. I didn't need Jasper to translate this emotion for me; I had encountered it in the mind of a vampire who had lost his mate.

I tried to regulate my compressions so I didn't break too many ribs—though I knew the venom would heal her, I didn't want to cause her any extra pain—and I felt when the venom spread beyond her heart, causing the blood to be more difficult to pump. I sent a prayer to God, the first in almost a century that I was in time to save this one girl.

"How Long?" I screamed to the heavens and stabbed her heart with another shot of venom. I felt her heart flutter just as Seth and Sam appeared and the screech of Joham's head leaving his body was heard.

Thump.

Thump-thump-thump.

Thump.

Then it stalled and I kept on pushing the venom through her body, pumping her heart intermittently with giving her breaths. Suddenly, she took a breath on her own and her heart began its regular rhythm again. Relief surged through my system, pinpricks of hope winding tentacles into my conscious mind.

She was changing.

The dhampirs quit fighting with the death of their sire, retreating away from the strong coven of vampires and the pack of wolves that began to chase them. I collapsed from the emotional fatigue I felt. The child's and Nahuel's minds were the only things I could hear besides the tortured beating of Bella's heart.

I turned back to my child, knowing she must be hungry and offered her a cup of blood. She drank greedily as I turned my focus to the war raging in Nahuel's mind instead. He was unsure whether or not he should approach; he could hear the child's heart beating and wanted to meet another dhampir that wasn't related but was afraid of the vampire in the cabin. He was also mesmerized by how I had worked to save the child's mother. I looked over to Bella: covered in blood, unmoving as the venom coursed through her system, but still one of the two most beautiful sights of my world.

As I watched the small changes already occurring in her body I heard the distant howl of a wolf in mourning.

~*~

As soon as the first contraction hit I felt my child squirming inside. The second sent it into a panic; rolling so quickly I began to fear it would wrap the umbilical cord around its neck. I watched as Edward sent Jacob out to call Dr. Cullen and then ran for a medical bag and injected me with something. I could feel the effects almost immediately as the slight sting preceded the path of the morphine up my arm. He was trying to deaden my pain when my child might strangulate?

"Stop worrying about me," I screamed, "save the baby!" I knew I was likely going to die and had made peace with that a couple weeks ago. Granted, I'd hoped he would be able to change me into a vampire, hoped that he would want me and love me as his actions had indicated this past week, but that was secondary to the real need: our child.

I felt the baby kick again and couldn't restrain myself from screaming to Edward to get the baby. I saw him look at me, his eyes filled with concern as I felt the morphine take over right before he grabbed a scalpel. I felt the blade make contact with my skin right before the drug thankfully overwhelmed my body and I succumbed to blackness.

The pressure of the darkness became greater and greater, weighing down on my chest like a ton of bricks had been placed there. It was becoming more and more difficult to breathe and I found myself forcing air in and out of my lungs until the pressure became too great. Each succeeding breath became shallower and shallower and I could hear my heart beat slowing to keep time, each beat taking longer to arrive until I lay there wondering when the next would come.

I knew this was the end and began to wonder what I would wake to on the other side when I felt a trickle of warmth pierce my neck. It was soon joined by a pinprick of heat right at my heart. I thought I could feel Edward's hands on me, caressing me as he so often had during the past week to calm me when I was uncomfortable. Sweet air filled my lungs, the scent of honey and sunshine rich in my nostrils and on my tongue as it escaped. I tried to hold it in, longing to keep its refreshment but was unable to do so.

The heat began to spread and was joined by other sources: my wrists, ankles, elbows, knees. All these places began to heat as if a fire had been lit underneath them. As each fire ignited, Edward's comforting hands would return to my chest intermixed with his breath to my nostrils. I tried to reach for it, wanting that feeling as the heat began to become uncomfortable, but was unable to move. The pressure of the blackness continued to hold me down and I fought against it, knowing it was what was keeping me from him.

And then another thought interfered—I hadn't heard the sound of my child crying. Did the blackness drown out its voice as well? Obscure it as it had my sight and ability to move? I wanted to hold my baby, but knew I had to get through the fire to reach her. Edward had warned me of this over the last week, told me that being changed was like being consumed by the fires of hell. I knew that was what was happening to me now.

Edward had saved me, had kept me. I had no idea what that meant for our future together, but I had hope. These last three weeks he had been far more attentive than any lover or friend. As the fire began to burn through my veins and the desire to scream in agony arose I remembered his face—in particular his eyes. I had seen concern, love, regret, self-loathing; all the emotions of a guilty man doing penance to the one he had harmed, the one he loved. Hope burned with the fire traveling down my veins, incinerating my worries along with my flesh. It changed me and made me see what had been before me more clearly.

I had been surrounded by love.

My mother, my father and my friends had all showered me with it. But I had never experienced the depth of the emotion until I fell for Edward. I knew he had betrayed my trust, but as I lay burning on my bed-turned-pyre, I also knew he had tried valiantly to regain it, particularly this past week. Only time would tell what he truly felt, but I held firm to the fact that he had changed me, had wanted me enough to do so. He didn't have to; I knew we were all alone by the time the scalpel touched my skin.

A touch on my hand distracted me; it was cool, but not as cold as Edward. I could feel it stroking my fingers, giving me the comfort I needed as I gritted my teeth against the pain. If the temperature was right I would have been sure it was Edward, for it felt like him in the way it comforted me and calmed my mind immediately. When it left I whimpered, wanting it back. I heard a soothing voice, so similar to Edward's voice, call to me then, shushing me. Eventually the touch returned, bringing me comfort again.

Sounds returned as the veil of darkness lifted and I heard someone's steady breathing nearby. I kept my eyes closed, too afraid of what I might see all the while keeping track of time by the breathing of the person who was holding my hand. I knew it was Edward now, for each exhalation brought with it the scent I had found so refreshing in the beginning. It was a salve to the fire, a comfort in the torment, and it never left me. I heard the voice again, only this time I recognized it as his, speaking to others. Someone asked him for a name and he replied, "It's up to her."

I began to think of my child, our child, again. I had yet to hear a cry, or even a whimper, but that would be the only need for a name, wouldn't it? I wondered if it was a boy or girl and if it looked like Edward or me. I pictured a child with brown hair and green eyes, eyes he had described to me from his vague human memories. If the 'her' he was referring to was me, then I would like to name it Edward Anthony III, continuing the tradition set by his father, or perhaps Charles Anthony, honoring my father as well.

But if it was a girl, I would like to honor his mother, Elizabeth. Whenever he had spoken of her it was with such abiding love. Was it only two days ago he had said he thought she would be disappointed in him? Perhaps of the vampire he was, I thought, but not of the man who had attended to me with such devotion. That man she would recognize as her son. If that was the man who still existed when I awoke, I could easily imagine spending eternity with him. It was that thought that if he had truly changed, I was now ready to forgive him.

The breaths continued, interspersed with other sounds. People were coming and going, and once or twice I thought I heard Jacob. Edward had told me of the treaty, and I knew it was broken with my conversion, but both voices were calm and subdued as if waiting for the outcome of some decision not yet made. I concentrated on those breaths, counting them to pass the time as the glowing embers of my body continued to consume my flesh and surely left ash behind.

The fire began to die—first in my fingers and toes, moving to my feet and hands eighty-four breaths later. As slowly as the earth rotated the sun, the burning was replaced by lingering warmth and receded like the melting of an icicle; drop by painful drop, its diminishment only discernable by comparison. And still I could feel a hand holding mine, never once letting go as I continued to breathe in the refreshing scent I knew to be Edward's.

When the fire left my arms and legs my heart began to speed as if it knew its final time was upon it and wanted to pump my remaining blood as much as it still could. With its frantic beating the fire began to recede more quickly—having begun in my throat and heart, it soon returned to only those locations as the pounding resounded in my ears. Knowing this was the end, I focused on its all-important, ever-increasing rhythm. I could now only have hope for the future.

The racing of my heart reached an ultimate crescendo, pounding furiously in its vain attempt to continue on. Only the burning in my throat remained, the beating of my heart seeming to drive all other excess heat from my body until it finally stuttered, slowed, and stuttered only once more. And then there was silence, but only from within.

I could hear the wind rustling the trees, moaning its call as it traveled around the cabin I knew I was still in. I could hear the sap of the pine trees flowing to its own rhythm. Scents assaulted my nose: honey and sunshine mixed with lilac was closest, a myriad of other sweet and musky smells further away. And even farther the smell of a wet dog, rancid and feral, struck me and caused me to cringe.

Then I heard his voice calling my name, calling me love. There was hope there, as well as worry. The fingers of the hand holding mine stroked over my knuckles softly, as gentle as if my hand were a soap bubble and not flesh and bone. It struck me that this must have been how he was used to touching me in my human form.

"Bella, love, open your eyes," he whispered and I knew, although I didn't know how I knew, that he was standing as far from me as he could while still holding my hand.

My mind raced through my human memories: my mother, my father, Jacob, school, my store, good times and bad. He had told me that they would fade and I didn't want them to—I wanted to remember them all. Last of all I raced through my memories of Edward and realized as I reached the end that, despite his initial intentions, I loved him still. For I knew he loved me and that the hurt could be forgiven.

"Bella, breathe love, and open your eyes," I heard his desperate voice call again, tinged with worry.

Sudden realization struck me: I had stopped breathing when I had heard his voice the first time after my heart had ceased beating. I took in a lungful of air, scents washing over me stronger than I had ever experienced. But instead of mixing like they did in my human memories, these seemed distinct, traceable even. I knew, somehow, that I would be able to track each one separately if called upon to do so. I knew which scents were carried on the breeze and which were immediately in my vicinity. One scent, warm and pulsing quickly, set the embers in my throat ablaze.

He took a step closer to me and I tensed, my instincts kicking in that I should be wary even though I wasn't.

"Now your eyes, love," he whispered and I heard the longing and hope in his voice.

Something in me wanted to comply but I was having trouble finding my eyes. So much was new: the nerves along my skin were alert and tingling, and locating what he wanted seemed to take an effort. I was only aware of my hands because of his touch. He took a step closer to me; breathing out, his scent washing away the instinctual tensing of my body. This wasn't an enemy but a lover.

That thought rocked me almost as much as the feeling of his lips on my eyelids. At the same time I located where my eyes were I found my heart had forgiven him but was still wary. My eyes flew open and I saw him leaning above me, his eyes black with deep circles attesting to the fact that he hadn't fed since he had brought me here, only hunting for my welfare.

At first I wanted to fly off the bed away from the threat and I could feel myself moving in that direction in the milliseconds before my thought changed to wanting to wrap my arms around him. Accordingly, I changed course.

"Oof," he said as I embraced him, "careful, love, you're hurting me."


This story topped 1000 reviews last chapter, and I want to thank everyone who has been so kind.

Now, before you tell me that she's forgiven him to easily, I'll ask you to trust me. She's still wary. Please review!