Author's note: Please read to understand a few things about this story :)
There were many things I didn't particularly like about Breaking Dawn, one of which is that instead of just speaking up for herself, Bella get Rosalie to protect her. Edward is supposed to love her, if he loved her, he would at least listen to her. You shouldn't need to be protected from the person who is supposed to love you. So this is alternative in that Bella makes her own mind up, but that they also don't go back to Forks. It makes more sense to get away from any potential threats to them while this is happening. Especially if they anticipate Bella dying/changing.
Big thing for me too, this is alternative because Jacob and Bella, there relationship was never 'like that' in this universe because if I'm honest, I wouldn't be too happy to go out with someone my mother had previously had a romantic attachment too. Don't really understand Stephaine Meyers logic with that to be honest.
This story is mostly about Renesmee or Ren as she is called in this. Nessie seemed like a young girl's nickname, and I wanted her to be a woman, grown and mature enough to be working and living alone. (I use the term mature lightly here - I'm nearly 30 and I still don't feel 'mature') This is told through her pov for about 95% of the story, small parts will be 3rd person when seeing whats happening through others. Please note, I am not a medical professional and so what is written is the best of my TV knowledge/personal experiences of midwifery and hospital procedures.
This is very much a WIP (although nearly finished being written it needs editing to death). If anyone would like to help with the editting on this for me, please let me know 😊
I havent forgotten my other fic (I took a break from it as I had another kid). I am now just struggling to finish it so I left it alone for a bit and this story began. - that is the longest Authors Note I think I've ever written. Enjoy and please review, I want to know thoughts and how it could be improved. Thank you :D
August 2006
They didn't speak as he drove. The tension in his body was evident with the harsh way he gripped the steering wheel. She wanted to speak up, to protest his wants but no sound came out. Her hand was laid against her flat stomach when the child inside moved. It felt like a goldfish moving around inside her. At the motion, she found courage from deep within and spoke up in the silence.
"I won't do it," she told him, her voice small.
His fingers tightening made the rubber on the wheel begin to crack. He said nothing.
"I mean it," her voice growing stronger this time, "I won't do it. I know what you know want Carlisle to do. I'm not stupid and I'm telling you now, I won't let you."
He said nothing but moved the car from the road, pulling a little sharply into a layby alongside the freeway.
"Bella," his voice was strained, "just let me fix this. Please let me make you safe."
She closed her eyes against the waves of emotion that caused tears to erupt and break free.
"Please," she begged, "don't make me kill our baby."
He looked close to tears himself at the anguish in her voice. It was breaking her heart, just the thought of killing the child they'd made through such love.
"It could hurt you, kill you," he argued, "I can't let that happen."
"You don't know that," She replied, "it's not hurting me now. Please, Edward, just don't make me do this."
He was silent again.
"I won't do it. You will have to force me, you will have to hold me down, break my bones and my spirit to take it from me. I will fight you with everything I have, even if it hurts me, even if fighting you kills me. I won't do it."
He said nothing.
He looked out at the road ahead. Aggravatingly silent.
"It's not hurting me right now," She persisted, "please just give me time. If it gets too much to handle… then we'll discuss the options."
His jaw clenched but he said nothing. He reached for his phone, long fingers tapping out a message faster than her eyes could witness it. He didn't speak for a long time; her heart was beating erratically from the panic building in her system. He reached a hand out to hold hers, clutching her hand in his and gently squeezing to make her feel at ease when such a thing was an impossibility.
He held her hand as he restarted the engine and pulled back onto the freeway. They drove for a long time in silence. Painful crippling silence…
They passed the exit that would take them back towards Forks, the town they resided in, and she turned to him. She didn't need to ask.
"We can't go to Forks now," he told her, "Carlisle will meet us at the new house. The others will tie up loose ends, get supplies and meet us shortly."
"What new house?"
"We have a place in Alberta, we'll head there and make arrangements for…" he cut himself off. Unable to say anything else.
"Canada?" She questioned, suddenly feeling bereft at the thought of Washington. She wasn't going home again and probably wouldn't see any of her family or friends ever again. Her heart hurt at the thought but the tiny goldfish-like feeling happened again and her mind was set. She would give it all up for her child, their child. Everything would be forfeited to keep it safe.
December 2020
The shift was going just a little too smoothly for my liking. When shifts like these occurred it usually meant that something bad was brewing. I tried not to think about what may or may not occur as I sipped at the coffee one of the other nurses had passed to me a few moments ago. It was kind of them to think of me, but it wasn't something I craved. I could keep up this pace without caffeine unlike the others on the night shift. The buzzer from my patient's room signaled my break was over and I hurried to the room moments before it happened.
"Somethings wrong," my patients frantic husband appeared just as I was about to enter. His hands were covered in ruby liquid, making my throat burn for a few seconds. The substance coated his pants and shirt. I pushed past him a moment of panic. My patient was hemorrhaging when just moments before she had been sat contracting well and progressing as expected. I knew it had been too calm, I thought to myself as I got to work swiftly. Hitting the emergency buzzer and acting fully on instinct. Within a few moments, we were in theatre and the child was brought into the world with swift precision.
"It's a boy," the doctor announced to the room, I took the infant from her grasp and helped my team with the newborn assessment. Overall, a healthy little man.
It was a well-practiced dance, we all knew our routines, our places and worked together well. I had been employed here long enough for that, two years and counting. Although, unlike most people, I was counting those years for a different reason. How much longer could I stay here?
The thought crossed through my mind as I scrubbed my hands. Blood stained my scrubs from where the woman had hemorrhaged so I knew I would have to change soon. I was able to control that part of myself far easier than my family. Bloodlust wasn't so ingrained in my being as it was in theirs, but it didn't mean the smell didn't affect me. Of course, it did. I felt the thirst in my throat and pushed the impulse from my mind.
I was just about to change when another nurse: Laura, I recognized, popped her head around the door.
"Oh, there you are," she sounded relieved at the sight of me.
I stared for a moment, waiting for her to elaborate. Thankfully, she did without my having to speak.
"Your sister called for you," she told me.
Irritation rose inside me at her words, but I kept my face neutral. They had promised not to get involved in my life here, so it annoyed me that they'd called me here, whoever it was that had. I followed the nurse back towards the nurse's station.
"Ren," the voice of my mother greeted me as I answered the call.
"Hey, what's up?" I asked, trying not to sound irritated. I had a cell phone. She really didn't need to call me here.
"I'm sorry to bother you, truly," she replied, clearly sensing my unhappiness.
I sighed, "Its ok. Honestly, what's up?"
"I need your help," she told me then.
For a moment, I wasn't quite sure how I could help her. I was the weak link in this family of ours or at least I believed that to be so. Nobody had ever said as much. There wasn't much that I could do to help them.
"Ok….?"
"Friends of ours," she began, pausing when my father interrupted her, muttering something just below my hearing range. She was quiet for a moment while they argued almost silently, and I waited impatiently for her to speak again.
"I have patients you know," I muttered in irritation at her delay.
"Yes," she spoke again, "I'm sorry, your dad doesn't think it's such a good idea, but I know they won't hurt you."
"You can't know that" I heard him grumble.
"Who won't?" I asked, filtering my words in case I was overheard.
"Old friends," she replied, "there's been a problem in La Push, they called for Carlisle's help, but we're too far away to be of any use. I hoped you could go?"
"But you said?" I argued, remembering my parent's reaction when I had taken a job at the hospital in Olympia. They had been very much opposed to me coming here, despite all the others reasoning that I was not them and therefore it would be highly unlikely that someone would think me connected to them. I was far enough away that whoever I resembled did not matter much, but crossing that line, going into Forks or La Push or even Port Angeles, they had been clear that was not wise for me. I had respected that much, and I had stayed local to the hospital and my small apartment.
"Forget what I said OK," she told me, "They wouldn't ask unless it was urgent, so I beg you, sweetie, please go and help."
I glanced at the clock then and took stock of the time. It was nearing the end of my shift and I wasn't feeling tired by any means. I could go a decent length of time without sleep if I fed. I had fed the previous day and was feeling the benefits currently.
"Okay, just text me the details and I'll head there as soon as I can."
"Thank you, sweetie."
"What are you talking about?" I asked in false anguish, loud enough to gain the attention of the nurse filling her paperwork not far from me.
Tears flowed freely as I acted my way out of my shift.
"She can't be gone?"
I could almost hear my mom's eye roll and my dad's amusement.
"Who's dead?" I heard my uncle's voice clearly on the other end of the phone. I ignored him and continued to sell it.
"Of course, I'll be there be there as soon as I can."
"Love you, sweetie," my mother replied quietly as the phone disconnected.
The nurse who had overheard my outburst approached as the phone landed back into the cradle. She was an older nurse, her dark hair greying around the edges. Her expression was brimming with sympathy as I poured my heart out to her and made swift arrangements to leave and take a vaccination day without much notice.
It was nearing midday when I reached the address that my mother had sent me. It had taken some time to tie up loose ends, change out of my blood-stained scrubs and be on my way. My car was old, according to my family anything older than a few years was ancient when it came to cars, but decent and made the journey in good time. It wasn't as breath taking as some of the cars they owned, but it was mine. I had worked hard for this car and I was happy with it despite their criticisms. The only one who never commented negatively was my mom, she was proud of my resolve to provide for myself, proud that I wasn't content to live off family money and wanted to make my own way in this world as much as I could. I smiled at the thought of her. I did miss them despite everything.
Going off to live my own life was something of a necessity to me. I had thrown myself into medical training at my grandfathers' encouragement. I loved it, I lived and breathed for it. I was fully a qualified nurse and midwife. My job was my everything, much as it had been for my grandfather before he had made a family for himself. There were no such options for me in that department, however. Being unique had its drawbacks.
My thoughts veered off into a place of bitterness until I noticed him. Alarmed, I moved to exit my car swiftly but still carefully as to not alert him to the otherness about me. A dark-skinned man stared me down, his dark eyes assessing me in a way I was not comfortable with. I held my own as well as anyone else in my family, I held his gaze and for a long minute no words were spoken. He huffed then, clearly irritated and on edge. I had seen many people act this way; it was a usual feature of a patient's family. Whoever this man was, he was the one who had called for my grandfather and the one whose family needed my help. He spoke then, alerting me to the direction of his thoughts.
"You're not a…"
"No."
"But you know…"
"Yes."
He huffed again.
"They said you were a doctor," he said as he continued to assess me. In that moment I was glad I had changed out of the scrubs. The only other clothes I kept at work were the professional ones my aunt had sent me. I wore them to work and home again, that was all. I knew I looked the part, hair swept up, smart navy skirt and jacket, with a white blouse and some very impractical but not uncomfortable shoes. I looked like a doctor today.
I nodded. Not wanting to correct him in case he should lose faith in my abilities.
"Ok," he responded curtly, before storming off towards the house that stood before me.
It was a quaint little house, pretty even. Nothing like the structure I had been raised in. It was humble like my little apartment. It made me smile just a little.
The smile died as I entered the house, the smell of festering blood and flesh was heavy in the air. It made my stomach roll. As appealing as blood was to me, this wasn't right. It didn't smell as it should. I felt eyes on me again then, a woman stood in the shadows facing away from me with a young adolescent female clinging to her. The salt from their tears mingled with the stale unpleasant smell. it had to be her child, I realized as she glanced around her mother in my direction. Her eyes widened in fear, and she clung to her mother more determinedly than before. I tried not to take offence, these people clearly understood the world I had come from, and they were quite right to fear it. I moved my eyes from them and allowed the man to lead the way.
A room off to the side was where he took me, I heard the heartbeat stuttering and struggling as I approached. This was urgent and an uneasy feeling began to form in my stomach as he pushed open the door. The smell hit me full in the face and I had to work hard not to let my disgust show. A teenage boy lay on a small bed pushed up against the wall. The room was not large, and it would not leave much room to work.
"What happened?" I found myself asking on reflex. The medical professional surfacing and taking over the situation before I could over think anything. Truly, it didn't matter who this boy was, why this had happened or even what had happened, all that mattered was that he was suffering, and he would die if I didn't intercede and fast, that much I had determined when I had first smelt his blood.
"He was in the woods with the others," the way he said, 'others' brought forth questions I didn't have time to process, "he cut his leg on something and it healed fine but yesterday this started."
"Healed fine?" I questioned, unable to make sense of that comment.
"We heal fast," he supplied as if that was supposed to help me understand. I shook it off and assumed he wasn't going to elaborate further. Focusing instead on approaching the boy.
"Where does it hurt?"
"He won't answer," the man replied, "he hasn't said a word in hours."
"Ok," I answered, directing my further questions to him instead, "Where did he hurt himself?"
"Left leg."
I got to work quickly, assessing the supposed wound that had caused what I knew to be the begins of blood poisoning. Strange, I frowned at the skin. If it weren't for the swelling and the stench coming from the leg, I wouldn't have realized that was where the wound had been.
"Yesterday?" I questioned, not expecting an answer, "that's impressive healing."
With a gentle touch, I felt the heat coming from the skin. Given that my own skin usually ran hot, this was deeply concerning. A fever like this should have done more than simply knock him unconscious.
"He needs to be cooled down," I muttered as I examined the 'wound'. Pressing a little harder than before. Beneath the skin, a pocket of infection had begun to build up. The boy shrieked then in response to my touch, eyes wide and blazing with pain.
Change of plan, I thought as I turned to rummage in my bag for what I needed. Morphine and quite a lot of it, that had been included in my mother's messages earlier in the day as par my grandfather's instructions.
The man moved to comfort the boy, looking down at him with an expression that made me understand their relationship at once. The man was this boy's father.
"Can't you do something?" the man snapped as he saw the pain in his son's eyes.
I had been snapped at by patients' relatives many times in the past, it was nothing new. I ignored his outburst and just focused on the job at hand. I gave him pain relief and antibiotics, before beginning the task of re-opening the wound. Something had to be causing this injury to fester. There was always a reason.
The smell was almost too much to cope with as it drained. It was deeply infected this tissue. I wasn't sure how much help I could honestly be. This boy would likely need surgery to remove it all.
"He needs to go to hospital," I admitted as I began cutting away at the infected tissue. It looked as if he would need a good proportion of the muscle removed to combat the infection. This wasn't a job I could do in a teenage boy's bedroom.
"No hospital," The older man was quick to respond. Not taking his gaze from his son.
"He needs surgery," I argued, still focusing on the task at hand.
"Then do the surgery," his tone was harsh, eyes still not moving.
"Sure, Sure," I replied with thick sarcasm, "Just hand me my bag. I carry the entire surgical team in there."
The man turned then; his eyes bored into mine with a look that made me feel vulnerable for the first time in my life.
"What did you just say?"
Baffled, my hands stilled for a moment. Did he seriously think I had people in my medical bag? Or more likely, he was very much not in the mood for a snarky comment.
"Sarcasm, Jeez."
I knew he was still watching me, so I got back to work. Trying to figure out how to save the boy's life and his leg whilst simultaneously doing it. No surgical team, no back up, just knowledge and desperation, my mind listed, and I swallowed back the nerves that threatened to overwhelm me. I understood why they had asked for my grandfather as I worked, the major difference between me and him was that I only knew how to be a good doctor in a hospital. Carlisle wasn't like me in that sense, his skills were so incredible he probably would have been finished by now whilst I was still working away at the leg, praying to a god I didn't believe in that it could be saved.
As the infected flesh was removed, piece by piece it suddenly became clear to me what had been the cause of all this trouble. A small splinter of bark was lodged inside his leg. I sighed in relief as it was removed and finished up the job. When I was finished, I looked at the boy's leg in horror. This really would have been better achieved under surgical conditions. I moved to begin packing the wound with gauze when I noticed it, the pieces of muscle and flesh beginning to regrow right before my eyes.
"That is incredible," I muttered without thinking, "How does it do that?"
"It's part of who we are," the man answered, he was still watching me with an expression I couldn't figure out. I hadn't taken the time to see whether had ever stopped watching me or not. It made me feel uneasy.
"He should be fine," I replied, putting my doctor persona back firmly in place, "I have given him an antibiotic injection, but he will need more over next couple of hours. I would normally say days, but I'm going to assume this won't take days."
The man smirked as if he found me amusing. His mood seemed to have significantly improved after I'd spoken. Worry does things to people, I knew that. I never took offence to things that were said to me at the hospital, and I would include today as one of those days. I smiled back at him, and the frown returned almost instantly.
"Who are you?" he asked suddenly, and I realized then that in the all the haste I hadn't actually shown him any identification or even told him my name.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I'm Carlie Masen," I lied easily and held out my hand for him to shake but let it drop to my side at his glare.
"That's not what I meant," his voice was bordering on threatening.
I felt a shiver of fear run down my spine and suddenly the room felt very cramped. I began packing up so fast I could tell I was panicking. My hands moving too fast as I replaced all my tools and medicines in the bag. He was still watching me. His gaze was filled with concern as he spoke again.
"What are you?" the question was the same but still very different.
All I could think of was that I had to leave. I'd leave the antibiotics with them and go. It was the safest course of action. Darkness had descended I noticed as I stepped outside. I had been there working all day. I was nearly at my car when he approached me. He grabbed my arm and tried to pull me back.
"Please let go of me," I asked with as much politeness as I could muster. I was fighting the urge to throw the man off me as he let me go.
"We won't hurt you," he told me, his words ringing with truth, "you don't have to tell me anything. I'm sorry."
I nodded once, still feeling a little panicked.
"You look like someone we used to know, and then you said something that was curious, I'm sorry," he continued without being prompted to do so.
We stood there for a few moments before he spoke again, "It's late, you look tired, Emily has made up a bed for you and there is dinner should you want it. You saved my son's life. We owe you that much at the very least. I won't forget your help today."
At the mention of food, I did suddenly feel the urge to eat and the energy I had been so full of at the end of my night shift was fading fast. It didn't seem wise to drive home. I thought it over and despite my better judgement telling me to flee, curiosity about these people kept me from doing so. I wanted to see how the boy healed, I wanted to understand. Curiosity killed the cat... the saying flitted through my mind, but I ignored it. It would take more than simple curiosity to end my life.
I smiled at the man, whose name I didn't know. His demeaner had changed, I wasn't getting any of the previous threat from him anymore. It was lethargy that won in the end, I felt tired to the bone and sleeping on a sofa would beat sleeping in my car hands down.
"That's very kind of you, thank you," I told him, "I'll be in in a moment."
The man nodded then, as I pulled the cell phone from my pocket and started texting. I realized as I did so that I still didn't know his name.
"I didn't catch your name?" I called after him.
He smiled a little as he thought over his words.
"It's Sam," he replied, adding just before he ducked into the house, "tell Bella I said hi."
My eyes widened for a moment, but I forced the surprise to merge into a neutral expression. Friends of ours, that was what my mom had said. They knew her and that was why I startled them, I looked and spoke like her. I was going to have to on guard for the next few hours, I would eat, get some sleep, make sure my patient was out of the woods and then leave. It wouldn't be so hard. I deceived people every day, but these people knew my family, my brain reasoned, it would be harder to hide their influences from people that knew them. Just one night, that wouldn't so hard. I could do this. I was an experienced liar; I could hide my true self till morning.
Despite my inner reassurances, I was fighting against the fear as I sent my text, letting them know I was safe. I can do this, I told myself. I took a deep breath and heading back towards the house.
