Long time no see readers (haha)! Well, I know you've all been looking forward to this chapter, but I just awnted to say I've never taken so much pleasure in being called evil in my life, that made my day. Anyway, don't own Twilight, don't own Clara, that's the reason why I do freaky plot things. :)
Chapter 37.
After the accident Randall seemed distant. The original due date came and went and he didn't make much of it. Summer faded into fall and he rarely brought it up, all the while sticking to the diet and feeding regularly. He was doing everything he was supposed to, but it seemed he was only going through the motions. December 6 came and he commented on how I only had a year left a few times, but although he was encouraging, he felt so far away. Usually he wouldn't let me touch him, and when he touched me it was like I was a glass doll, ready to crack at any moment. We made love much less often, and he seemed to be avoiding me, always at work or with Eleazar and Garrett. Sometimes I wondered if it was because he had stopped finding me attractive, if it was because the baby turned him off and he was disappointed it wasn't out yet.
We had a few arguments over this, but nothing to break us--I hoped. It felt like I was losing him, a little at a time, but as the due date approached again I felt him beginning to come back. He took off the entire week before the c-section and stayed home all day with me "to prevent any accidents," and during that time he finally seemed to relax around me. He'd wrap his arm around me while watching the evening news, or I'd catch him watching with a little smile as I moved a load of laundry from the washer to the dryer, he still wasn't nearly as open with me, but it was baby steps and I was grateful for them.
At midnight on December the sixth he came over to me smiling like he had just won the lottery, he seemed back to his old self. Part of me jokingly wondered if it was the full moon doing its magic. Even though after the accident Randall and I found out that the Children of the Moon can change outside of the full moon when extremely angered, we all agreed that we didn't want an extremely angered werewolf performing surgery.
"Today's the day," Randall smiled, walking over and wrapping his arms around me like he used to. It was a huge baby step followed by another. "We have a few hours though," he said with a wink, "how about one more time? For old times' sake?"
I couldn't help but beam. "It's so good to have you back," I said, taking his hand as he led me up to the bedroom.
"What are you talking about?" he chuckled. "I've been here the whole time."
I decided not to push my luck and pushed the subject from my mind instead. It was a good idea, it had been a long time and it was evident that we were both relieved to feed our second hunger.
A few hours later and the day ahead looked to be the best and worst of my vampire existence. At seven o'clock sharp Christopher was going to come and take out my baby, but that meant I was going to have to face my baby, the little girl, or boy, I had to realize, who had been inside me for all these years. I was almost afraid of what he or she was going to look like. Had the venom preserved the features perfectly, or added that unnatural beauty, like it had done to mine? It made me shudder to think that it may have acted as an acid and burned off the flesh, only leaving a skeleton where a baby had once been.
Would the baby look like Robert? I wasn't sure if I would be able to bear that. As the years passed his face faded more and more in my memory, all but the one image of his lifeless body on the hospital floor. Because I was a vampire when I killed him that image never faded, I could still see every detail perfectly from his disheveled red hair and unshaven face, likely from staying by my bedside for too long, to the small pool of blood that had spilled from his body as the result of the kill of an amateur. My throat began to burn and my heart began to ache just thinking about it.
"What's wrong, love?" Randall asked gently, stroking my hair.
My mind jumped back to the present and I found the old feelings of betrayal creeping back up on me. I shoved them back. "I'm just a little nervous," I sighed.
"There's nothing to be worried about," he reassured me. "It's six thirty, I suppose we should get out of bed now," he smiled, pushing away the covers.
After a quick shower I got dressed and hurried down the stairs. Christopher was going to be here any second. The doorbell rang and Eleazar beat both Randall and I to it.
"Christopher, it's good to see you again," Eleazar smiled, opening the door wider so our guest could enter.
"As it is good to see you," Christopher replied. "Are we ready, Clara?"
I nodded eagerly. I just wanted to get this over with.
We walked up the stairs and headed into the bedroom.
Eleazar, Randall, Carmen, and Kate stood by to watch. Eleazar didn't have to be at work until 9, Randall was still "taking a vacation" and Kate decided to take off work to witness the c-section and help if needed. Tanya had to go to school, she was now taking classes at the local community college, and Garrett had opted out of watching my stomach being cut open and was downstairs looking at a book seeing as his job didn't start until 8.
"Actually," Christopher said, "I'd prefer to work with Clara alone, it may make me nervous to have so many people looking over my shoulder."
The others consented and left the room, Carmen first, Randall last, leaving me a quick kiss and wishing me good luck.
"We should get started, I'll change first," Christopher said.
I turned away until I heard the sound of claws hitting the floor, coming towards me. "Now take off your pants," he said.
I couldn't tell if it was just his voice, or if his tone was rough. Either way I obliged, kicking off my pants, pulling up my shirt to expose my stomach, and lying down on the bed.
"Your underwear too," he said shortly.
I cocked my head in confusion. "I don't think I need to take off my underwear for you to do this."
"I did my research, the cut goes along the bikini line, right where your underwear is," he ran his finger along the spot, sending chills down my spine, "and frankly, those seem to be nice panties, we wouldn't want to rip them now would we?"
"I have plenty just like them," I replied, "it doesn't matter if they're ripped."
"I want them off," he growled.
Reluctantly I slid the fabric down my legs. I didn't like being this exposed in front of someone I barely knew. Still, when the baby came out it would be worth it, it would be over.
"Very good," he said with a wolfy grin. "It looks like I'm going to need to cut here," he clumsily dragged his claw along the top of my stomach. "Oops, I'm sorry; in this form I'm not quite as flexible as I am in my human form, when I'm upright at least. Perhaps it would be easier if I was positioned over you like this," he climbed on to the bed and knelt over me. This was becoming less and less comfortable by the second. "Much better, let's begin."
His claws were much steadier as they tore the skin near the bottom of my baby belly, I groaned as the flesh tore open and the pain sunk in. It had been so long since I had received any kind of wound that the sudden burst of it was surprisingly strong. This wasn't like when Carlisle was trying to cut open my finger with his tooth, this was sharper. It was like the burning in my throat when I was hungry, but it didn't cause hunger, just hurt. I waited to hear something from Christopher, "it's a girl," "it's a boy," "it's out now," even just the rustling of the sheets as he worked silently, but I neither heard nor felt anything from him. The skin was open but he was just sitting there.
"What are you doing?" I moaned. I reached for the opening; the hole was there, it was big enough, what was he waiting for? Another touch revealed my skin beginning to close up again, he needed to hurry.
He leaned down and I could see the malice on his face. "Stupid girl, surely you didn't think that after all your kind as done to us, that we would help you so readily," Christopher growled.
Then things were turned upside down. I screamed as a pressure that wasn't supposed to be there pierced me. He put his furry paw over my mouth and held me down with his other legs as I struggled against him. Each time I thrashed he ran his claws across my face or dug them into my arm.
One, two three, four, five times I felt him enter into me despite my fight against him and everything clicked. He had never intended to take out my baby. He just wanted to use me to release his own disgusting desires to get revenge. The anger at that gave me strength I thought I had lost. I got up and threw him off the bed. He fell against the dresser with a loud crash and the door flew open.
"What's going on in here?" Randall asked at the scene. It must have been confusing. Me on the bed half naked, cut up everywhere, Christopher sitting slightly dazed in the debris of what was once our dresser.
Before I could answer Christopher came back to his senses and bolted out of the room.
Randall did a double take before growling and taking off after him. I still wasn't sure if he knew what Christopher had done or if he was only chasing him because he seemed suspicious.
"Randall!" I called, getting up shakily and walking to the door. He wasn't in sight. "RANDALL!" I shouted before sprinting to the top of the stairs.
He stopped at the front door and looked back at me, anger written across his face. Anger melted into shock as both he and I remembered that I was torn up everywhere.
The air rushed into cuts on my face and arms, stinging what lay between the cracks. Flesh dead, but exposed, blood from my last feed trickled down my left arm. I quickly wiped it away, hoping Randall hadn't caught scent, and then I realized it.
The baby! I gazed down at my stomach, but it was too late. The gaping hole that had been cut was closed, that cut was healed.
I reached down and tore at the skin, furious. Furious at Christopher for what he had done, furious at myself for not realizing what he was doing sooner, furious at the others for leaving us alone, unsupervised. Furious that Randall was still standing at the front door, virtually clueless as to what had happened.
Realizing that my clawing was useless, I took one step down the stairs then stopped. My body acted as if it had its own will and sat down. I buried my head in my hands, my fingers detecting the skin on my face already healing, and cried.
I know, I know, I know, you HATE me as of currently, but that's okay, I've accepted that, it's all part of the plan. I promise the rest of the plot will be relatively fast moving, we're nearing the end! Thanks to everyone who makes this story possible!
Hufflepuffbrunette :)