A/n: I'm trying to stay away from too many point-of-views from a parent's perspective, but I really couldn't write this and be satisfied with it any other way. Please enjoy :]

Disclaimer: Twilight no es mio.

"Mama!" A frantic voice whispered as I felt my shoulder being shaken. "Mama, please wake up," the small voice pleaded and I hurriedly shook off my exhaustion when I understood.

"What's wrong, darling?" I whispered as I swept up his body into my arms and tried to carry him back to his bedroom and away from my husband's sleeping form. He worked too hard and I didn't want to wake him as well.

"I was so scared," he sobbed quietly into my neck and trembled delicately in my arms.

It was a strange thing, becoming a mother. His pain made me want to panic, but I was composed on the outside because I knew that was he needed to see. Nothing came before him, not even instinct.

When I reached his bedroom door, I expertly shifted his weight to only one arm and gently turned the knob. This wasn't the first time my son and woken me suddenly in the middle of the night and I was almost certain it wouldn't be the last. He tried so hard to be an adult.

'Just like father' he'd tell me, but he was still so small. My brave little boy.

"What happened?" I cooed into his ear as I sat him down on the bed with a huff and walked over to his nightstand.

"I-I had," he continued to hiccup as I hurried to light a few candles quickly without singeing the sleeve of my nightgown in haste. "I had a bad dream." He finally spluttered out and sobbed even harder.

"Why don't you tell me about it?" I whispered as I picked him up again and rubbed his shaking shoulder. His cheeks and eyelids were swollen a blotchy red and his eye lashes shone with tears on the ends like dewdrops with his hair swept in every direction. He was absolutely adorable as he stared at my shoulder, his brow wrinkled in concentration to my question.

It always seemed worse when he couldn't remember what worked him into such a fluster. I would watch him toss and turn as he tried to go back to sleep after he had woken me up and I would pray that he would find some peace from his nightmares.

But when he knew what it was that frightened him, it was easier to coax and soothe him past it - like if he knew what he was up against, it made it easier to defeat.

"I was in the woods …" He started slowly and I watched his face carefully for any changes in his expression. "And there was a pretty girl there, too," he added shyly.

He nodded to himself once and turned to look at me seriously after a few moments of quiet. "Her laugh was beautiful, mama."

"Oh, really? Does my Edward have a crush?" I raised my eyebrow dramatically, trying to distract him from his poor mood.

He shrugged both shoulders and they drooped back down, slowly. He looked absolutely exhausted.

"I don't think I've ever seen her before." He stared determinedly at the wall.

"Do you remember what happened next?" I tried to say as gently as possible after he had lapsed into an unpleasant scowl. His expression was far too serious for his young age and I couldn't stand for him to cry again.

His head tilted to the side and his eyes emanated acute, innocent misery without a sound.

"I couldn't …" He took a deep, unsteady breath. I had never seen a child work so hard on learning to keep their composure like Edward.

Like a soldier I thought as he struggled for words and I bit back the stab of pain. The idea of him on a battlefield, anywhere within ten miles of a petition of rapid firing guns was petrifying. Unthinkable.

Yet, every time we passed one of those horrid recruitment signs, Edward always had to declare some teasing remark. 'He is family, of course. And one never turns one's back on family, you said so yourself, mother' he would tell me and point to the poster of his Uncle Sam. That never worried me too much, though. It was in Edward's nature to try to alleviate my tension with dry humor.

No, it was the hope that killed me. The pure, undeniable hope in my little one's eyes at the thought of the uniform and the glory that made my heart lurch painfully, but he always patted my hand reassuringly, without me having to voice any of my worries aloud.

"I couldn't save her. I just couldn't and it was all my fault." His little hands caught his head as it sagged down again and he blew out a calming breath from his mouth.

I lifted his chin with my index finger and looked him straight in the eye - I knew from experience he would only truly listen if I treated his situation as seriously as possible.

"Did you try?" I asked quietly and he rolled his eyes. I think he was trying to cover up the way the seemed to water again, but, then again, the light wasn't very forgiving in the room.

"My absolute hardest." He sounded offended by my seeming lack of faith and I repressed a chuckle.

"Well, if you tried your absolute hardest, I'm sure she'll forgive you next time you see her. If she's a smart girl, she will know that's all she can ask of anyone."

"Do you really think I will see her again?" he asked in total wonder, completely ignoring the majority of what I said.

I pressed my lips together in a line and narrowed my eyes a little, feigning an expression of what I hoped was careful pondering.

"Seeing as you don't know where you remember her from, I think going back to sleep and dreaming about her would be the best way do find out." His answering smile was blinding as he practically threw his blankets away from the mattress and launched himself back onto it until he was lying on his side, facing me.

"Do you want me to stay, since I'm already here?" I whispered, already knowing the answer.

He nodded drowsily and slid over to left side, trying to make room. He allowed his eyelids to flutter close as he clutched the faded comforter to his little body. He tugged it so one corner was held up underneath his nose and heaved in one huge gulp of air before breathing out a frail yawn that settled him even more completely into the bed.

He was without a doubt the most fantastic creature on the planet.

As much as his nightmares and nightly awakenings saddened me to witness, I couldn't find it in me to regret any of it when I got to see this. My little boy wasn't really so little anymore, emotionally or physically - the new, slight struggle it took to carry him the small distance between the two bedrooms had proved that perfectly. Lately, he carried a disapproving set to his mouth when I tried to muss his bronze hair or brushed me away, annoyed, when I tried to help him reach the taller shelves. He didn't like it when I babied him.

And, as selfish as it was, I enjoyed that he still needed me to chase the nightmares away and set his soul at ease unlike anyone else in his life. I liked that I could still calm his fears of things that went bump in the night and I wasn't quite ready yet to lose him to a pretty stranger with a beautiful laugh. I wanted him to stay my baby just a little bit longer.

He peeked one eye open when I still hadn't moved from my sitting position and I moved quickly to lay down in the space he had made for me. He still didn't look appeased when I tried to relax into the bed, so I offered him a lopsided smirk. He narrowed his eye, apparently not convinced.

He rubbed his eyes sleepily with the back of his hands and made a move to sit up while I pushed him back down - I didn't like the light purple bruises starting to form underneath his lids. He really needed to go back to sleep and let them heal.

Edward rolled his eyes at my show of strength and rolled closer to my side.

"I love you, mama," he drawled lazily and kissed the tip of my nose. "Don't worry so much," he added, his assertive voice weak with exhaustion and with that, he lapsed into unconsciousness quickly.

I smoothed the hair back from his forehead -damp with sweat from his previous fear- with the tips of my fingers and let them rest on the apples of his cheeks.

"Oh, my boy, didn't I ever tell you?" I whispered into the air. "It's a mother's job to worry incessantly after her son."

He mumbled incoherently against his pillows and his lips turned up into a peaceful smile. I knew there wasn't going to be anymore scary dreams this night. I'd liked to joke with myself sometimes that if Edward senior and I were two corresponding parts of the same whole, Edward junior and I were matching pieces. It was a good way to explain how my son was in tune to my thoughts all the time.

With my heart a little heavy, I cautiously extracted myself from under the covers - I sensed that I was no longer needed here. I still leaned over, careful to keep all of my weight on my feet, and showered his face with feather light kisses, leaving one last "I love you" on his forehead before I turned to blow out the candle.

I tip-toed back to my bedroom and tried to shut the door with care so it wouldn't squeak half way through. I slipped under the covers of my bed this time, trying to use as much stealth as before, but Edward senior still shifted and wrapped his arms around my waist with a groggy "welcome back, Liz."

"I'm sorry I woke you," I whispered as I stroked the fine stubble starting to sprout on his cheek. He would have to be sure to shave very thoroughly tomorrow morning before we left.

"S'okay," he mumbled and leaned into my touch. "What was it this time?" He was well informed of my and Edward's nightly run-arounds.

"He couldn't save a pretty girl with a beautiful laugh." Edward opened his eyes fully at my sour tone and chuckled.

"Well," he started, knowing my tone well enough that the subject was not open now, at two o'clock in the morning. "Let's hope he gets some rest now. He has a big day tomorrow!" he said with faux excitement and another chuckle.

"Very true." I decided joining in my husband's ever present mirth would be the best choice when I didn't have much control left of the situation.

He sighed, hearing how forced the laugh was and held me a little tighter. "G'night Liz."

---

The Following Day

I was already in the kitchen when Edward junior came bounding down the stairs, looking much, much better than the way I had seen him the night before.

"I'm gunna get some big boy shoes, big boy shoes, big boy shoes! I'm gunna get some big boy shoes with my mama today!" He sang loudly as he sat down at the table with a subtle "thump." He had been singing his little tune to the chorus of Mary Had a Little Lamb this entire week.

"I'm gunna wear a grown up suit, grown up suit, grown up suit! I'm gunna wear a grown up suit like my father today!"

I thought the whole affair was rather silly. I had been best friends with Lucille for as long as I could remember and that had been originally the only reason we had been invited to her baby sister's wedding that was to take place this afternoon. Ethel and I had never been very close and she had never seen my little Edward until two months ago when we had all met at Lucille's home for the formal announcement dinner.

I had known something was amiss when Ethel's eyes had sparkled as she laid eyes on my son.

"Oh dear boy!" she had exclaimed and bent down to kiss both his cheeks, with far too much familiarity for a stranger. I tried my best to hide a smirk at Edward's expression - he did not take kindly to womanly attention in any public area. He had taken to calling me strictly "mother" any time we set foot out of our home.

"Now-" Ethel had cut herself off when she realized she had forgotten my son's name.

"Edward," I told her quietly and my husband had laid a calming hand on my shoulder to ease my growing tension.

"I knew that!" Ethel snapped and turned back to the Edward she had trapped her grasp with a horribly sweet smile. She never had learned when she had over stepped her boundaries and that been one of the main reasons I had tried to stay away from her. It bothered me, the way she was addressing my son like she was his mother. "Edward, darling, would you like to be the ringer bearer at my wedding in two months. I have been planning to ask you for awhile now."

I raised my eyebrows, knowing she hadn't intended anything, and huffed in protest, but watched for Edward's response.

"Why do you want me, miss?" he asked politely and it didn't escape my notice that he didn't even know her name.

"Oh dear boy! Why, you'll look so handsome and grown up in your new suit!" After that, I knew all hope of staying quietly out of the way during what I was sure would be an ordeal of a wedding was lost. Edward idolized his father and he would never deny a chance to dress like him, even for a scary lady.

That left me two months later, walking into town in my best shoes so Little Miss Priss could give her final approval to my son's outfit for her wedding. Edward senior was going to leave work early and meet us at the church, while I took our son to some tacky, overpriced store for his "final fit." Ethel had insisted we keep the suit and shoes at the store so no harm could come to it at either of our homes. "Little boys are so messy and it would be easier to keep it nice and safe here" she had told me. It was ridiculous and slightly offending, but I kept my mouth shut for Lucille's sake.

We walked through the front door and the employees never had to ask what they could help us with anymore; they had all been subject to Ethel's tyranny just as much as I had.

A young man led us to a back room for dressing Edward and it took no time to get him into the suit. I had to admit, he was very handsome and the dimples his proud smile brought out as he took in his reflection in the mirror, made all of Ethel's nonsense worth it. I laughed out loud when I thought how great it would be if my little ring bearer out shone the annoying bride on her own wedding day.

Edward grasped my hand tightly and pulled us along, back to the front so he could finally wear his "big boy shoes." Ethel had insisted the expensive shoes would fit perfectly and wouldn't even allow him to try them on, saying he would scuff them if he tripped.

She really should have listened to me.

"But mother, I like them! I feel absolutely fine!" He protested and brought his knees up to his chest so he could cradle the shoes in his hands. They were far too small and his face screwed up when the employee had started to lace them. He was clenching and un-clenching his fists to hold back the pain.

I sighed and turned to the employee, cursing Ethel under my breath.

"Do you have a larger size?" I asked without much hope. Edward wasn't wrong when he went on and on about his big boy shoes. The shoes he wore had to be specially shipped in by the store because they didn't normally sell any children sizes for the style.

He gave me an apologetic smile. "I can bring out the smallest men's size and see how it fits." Really not left with too many choices, I agreed - Ethel's wedding was in a few short hours. I leaned down to do the task of getting the puny shoes off his feet amidst the whispered protests of "Really mother," "I like them a lot," and finally "Please mama! I want to keep them!"

In the end, it really wasn't all that horrible. The nice gentleman and I had stuffed the stupid, humongous shoes with cotton balls and receipt slips until Edward was comfortable enough to walk around in them. He waddled like a little penguin as he made his way down the isle, but I got the feeling no body else really noticed.

Edward senior and I chuckled as we heard the hushed approval of those around us. Needless to say, with his triumphant smile, no one paid any attention to the shoes on his feet.

When we finally arrived back at home, everyone settled in for a quiet evening: my husband to his study, Edward to our piano to practice, and I to the kitchen to start the dinner. Just as I nearly finished and was about to call my boys down, I heard an unfamiliar twinkle call from the living room.

I abandoned the food on the counter top and walked as quietly as possible into the source, trying my hardest not to disturb the player. He was hunched over the keys with his brow drawn in concentration. He swept his fingers across the keys so the same, soft hum reverberated throughout the house and then shook his head stiffly in frustration.

He continued to struggle for a few more minutes while I stood in the doorway unseen. It was sweet and simple, but strangely unfamiliar and so sad. The only pieces Edward knew were the ones I had taught him in the last few months of lessons. Astonished, I realized Edward was trying for the first time to compose.

"Hello mama," he turned and said after the echo of the last note had hung in the air. I hadn't known he could see me from his angle.

"What was that, Edward?" I asked, curiosity peeking. He saw my awed expression and, surprisingly, snickered.

"I told you it was beautiful, didn't I? I just didn't want to forget it, but I don't think it's coming out right." He frowned down at the keys again and raised his hands to the board to try again before I stilled them.

"I think it was perfect." He didn't turn his head from the piano, but I caught sight of half of his shy smile from his profile.

"Yes, she is," he whispered the words so low, I can't be sure to this day if he actually spoke them.

"Can you teach me it?"

He turned and looked at me wide eyed.

"You want me to teach you?" he squeaked and grinned when I nodded.

While dinner was forgotten and Edward explained the simple melody to me, for the first time, I thought maybe it wouldn't be so bad when it came time to give him up, so long as it was to the person he wanted.

He still had nightmares after that day, but not nearly so many - dwindling down month by month until they were all, but forgotten. We never did talk again about the pretty girl with the beautiful laughter, but every so often, he would sit down and plunk out the simple notes, that same shy smile on his face from the first time he saw her.

A/n: I know. Terribly cheesy, but it refused to be written any other way. I put a link up for the closest thing I could find for the little laughter song on my profile - it only really counts for the first forty seconds of the song, though.

Oh, and for the shoes bit, totally happened to me. I was a little girl and was oober excited to wear high heels for the first time, but bridezilla refused to let me try them on until the day of the wedding because she convinced herself I would break them. Riddle me this Batman, how do you break a pair of freaking shoes?!