Ten

Edward held his daughter's hand, her tiny fingers, bird-bone delicate interlaced in his as he tried to comfort her. Bella was inconsolable, on his other side. He glanced at her, above his daughter's head, as his wife soothed Nessie's hairline and pulled their daughters long hair into a loose braid behind her back.

Distantly, he was aware of the panic outside, Jacob was yelling, his voice was distant and muzzled, while the words that he could easily hear and understand from his mind screamed loud and clear. He tried to block everything out. Over the years he had come to associate the tenor of his daughter's voice with the emotions she was feeling, although he could read the thoughts of everyone around him the thoughts of his wife and daughter were allusive to him.

He remembered, with an eerie kind of delight, the sound her Renesmee calling him daddy for the first time, how the cadence of it uplifted him, and how it still brought a smile to his face every time he heard the sound. It had become rare, now that she was getting older. He was usually just dad, now. But still, occasionally, when his daughter giggled in glee over the silly dad jokes that he liked to read off the internet for her.

It had only been four years since Bella was human, giving birth to Renesmee just mere moments before her own human death and the transformation began. He could still recall the bone-chilling panic he had felt—his hands still unceasingly reaching out for his newborn daughter all the while Bella had been dying at his side. Death in childbirth was something he had grown up around. His grandmother had died days after giving birth to his father's younger brother, and his mother had lost a sister during a breech birth. The onset of modern medicine had quelled the fear of commonality, but it had still not eradicated it completely. Back then, in those last moments with Bella as her human self, he had watched her eyes, as they closed, heavily, her eyelashes thick with sweat. He could smell the blood pooling around her body as he gripped the leathery skin of her still fingers…

Now, in this moment so many years later, he tried to clear his mind. Bella and Renesmee were both with him. He could hear Carlisle's thoughts from across the room as he filled another syringe. The doctoral side of his personality always allowed for clear, orderly thoughts. Only moments ago, he had been feeding his daughter blood from his own wrist; blood heavily tainted with death, both his own and the animals he needed in order to continue with his existence. His daughter's lips were still stained in a garish cherry red from the blood that had dried there.

Ness lifted her hand up to her head, her voice older than Edward had ever heard it before. "Please tell Jacob that it's okay, his sadness is so loud."

Bella turned on her heels, fingers quickly slapping against the keys of her cell phone. After a quick ring Jacob answered on the other end.

"Let me talk to her," Edward heard Jacob demand. His voice clipped and exhausted from worry.

Bella said a few quick words of her own, her own ire bringing a flash of delight to Edward's face before she handed the cell phone to Renesmee, who brought it achingly slow up to her ear.

Jacob could have whispered from outside, but the vampire's in the room still could have heard every word. None of them felt the need to give him privacy with the youngest member of their family.

Renesmee started the conversation, "I know that was hard for you to see that." The adultness in his daughter's tone shocked Edward again.

Jacob's voice always softened naturally when he spoke to Renesmee. "Are you alright?"

Renesmee coughed again, a loud shaky rattle. Her voice contradicted her answer. "Yes, I'm okay."

Jacob took a depth breath, calming himself. "That must have tasted pretty nasty." His voice had taken on a more jovial tone as he tried to make her smile.

Renesmee did smile, albeit slightly, "It was gross. Why won't they let you come in?"

Jacob rolled his eyes. "They don't know what's making you sick. They think it might be from the school, but they're not sure." Jacob continued, grudgingly, "It might be best if I stay away for a while."

Ness flinched. Edward could feel it, and Jacob could hear it. "I'll probably never get to go back, now."

She meant the school, and Jacob knew it. "Hey, you never did tell me what you learned in school that last day…"

Another quick smile on the girl's face. "We were working on geography."

Jacob was impressed, he had never enjoyed school or found any subject particularly interesting besides physical education and sports, neither of which was as intense on the reservations, as it was in the state-run local schools, but he adored how much Ness loved school. "Oh, yeah," he coaxed her, wanting to know more.

Edward was again surprised by how much older his daughter looked, every day she seemed to get subtly older, her progression on a much more expedited pace than other children her age. Looking at her name, Renesmee seemed another year older. Her face had thinned and extended, and her hair was long enough that the braid Bella had just placed in it was already pooling around the sheets when she sat up.

"Teacher assigned each of us our own country, and we have to do research and make a report."

"And which one did you get?"

Ness sighed, coughing again. "I wanted to get America."

Jacob interrupted with a joke. "Sure, the easiest one?"

"No," she protested. "I wanted to get America so I could research the indigenous tribes. I wanted to show you everything I learned."

Jacob stilled, surprised and thrilled. "You'd do that."

Ness bent forward so she could see Jacob more clearly through the window. "Yes." She giggled nervously. That ting of childhood that Edward loved so much, coming back through for the briefest of seconds.

Jacob swallowed slowly, steadying himself. "So, what did you end up getting? For a country, I mean."

Renesmee shrugged. "Scandinavia."

Jacob echoed her unenthused tone, shrugging as well. "We can watch episodes of Vikings when you get better."

She started to cough again. Offhanded, Bella told her daughter that she needed to rest.

Jacob tensed, sensing the change. "Hey, you're my favorite," he told her.

"You're my favorite, too," Renesmee echoed.

Their terms of endearment had remained unchanged since Renesmee could talk. One of them would declare the same sentiment, and the other one would echo it. Sometimes Renesmee said it, unprompted, and sometimes it was Jacob who started it.

Bella tried to take the phone away from her daughter.

Jacob spoke quickly, as the phone left Renesmee's hand. "I'll be right outside. As long as it takes."

As uncomfortable as he was by Jacob's ever-evolving feelings for their daughter, he did remember a time when being separated from Bella would have killed him.

"I think dad's blood is helping you out," Bella said, breaking the silence.

Renesmee shrugged again.

Carlisle spoke up. "There's definitely more animation to our girl."

Ness smiled, giving her grandfather an appreciative boost.

"Still not out of the woods yet, as it were." Carlisle continued.

Edward and Bella both bristled.

Carlisle went on, "Her fever is still high. Ness, do you remember when you started feeling ill?"

Renesmee licked her dry lips, grimacing when her tongue tasted the dried blood. "When I got back from school."

Carlisle crossed his arms, leaning his frame against the bureau across the room. "Did anyone give you anything? Did you smell something or taste something different? Was there anything strange that you might have come into contact with."

Renesmee shook her head in the negative. "I guess I started feeling tired on the bus home."

Bella leaned against her daughter. "I should have been there to pick you up."

Edward reached out for his wife's hand and she gladly took it.

"You were at school, mom," Renesmee told her.

"I know, but—"

Edward stood up; he had heard Jasper's voice. His brother was approaching, on foot, with Alice. Their thoughts were screaming.

"Edward?" Carlisle questioned.

Edward held up a finger, quieting the rest of his family in the room. He could clearly hear Alice's thoughts as they got closer, her warning was clipped, short, hastily constructed even in her own detail-rich mind.

Volturi. Coming.