Chapter 5: "Awakening"

Disclaimer: The proprietary elements of Breaking Dawn, including its original treatment and all of the characters, belong solely to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

Bella's POV

"Bella. Bella, please," the angel begged softly. The sound was muted and broken and barely audible. But I heard it.

Why was the angel's voice so heavily laden with desperation and despair? He shouldn't sound so distraught.

"Sweetheart," the angel continued. "Can you hear me? Oh, please," he breathed, "Please open your eyes."

Notwithstanding the pain in his perfect voice, I was momentarily mesmerized by the inherent beauty of the angel's melodious speech. Stunned into silence by the cadence of his vocalizations, distressed as they were, I processed each modulation, every inflection as never before. Then I recognized the voice—understood at once why it was so familiar. Edward. His voice had always been music to my ears. But now…now every syllable was a symphony of sound. Each sentence its own miniature concerto.

Changed as I was, I almost expected to hear the harmonious counterpoint of his thoughts, as well.

Could he hear me, I wondered? Did he know what I was thinking at this very moment?

I love you, I tried wordlessly, holding fast to the one thing I understood in the bewildering deluge of sensory stimuli.

"I love you, Bella. So much. Please say something," he almost begged, growing more and more anxious with each passing moment.

Had he heard me? I couldn't be sure. I struggled for focus—concentrated on him. I needed to see Edward's face. His alone. My body tensed in anticipation, and I braced myself to be bombarded by an entirely separate layer of sensory provocation—visual stimuli. Was I ready? I had to be. Edward's arms, which had been wrapped around me, immediately loosened in response.

Don't let go, I begged without uttering a word.

Thankfully, he kept hold of my hands. I still wasn't sure whether or not he could hear my thoughts, but I knew I needed his touch. Moreover, I desired it. That, in and of itself, was a gratifying realization. I was still me.

I took a deep, unnecessary breath—another strange sensation—and opened my eyes.

Edward's face filled my vision, and I saw him, really saw him, for the first time. Words fail. What I observed was definitive proof that I had died and gone to heaven. Immortality with Edward. My heaven on earth.

I love you, I thought again, lost (and simultaneously found) in the inexplicable depth of his dark eyes.

The dazzling radiance of Edward's exultant smile was as compelling as it was curiously new. Intensified somehow.

And then, very carefully, he pulled me closer.

What I experienced next was a peculiar combination of reciprocal emotion and defensive potential energy. Quite automatically, I calculated at once the physical strength necessary to escape his embrace, if I chose—there was no doubt in my mind that I possessed the capability to flee. But my desire to remain in his arms outweighed all else. Not surprisingly, in my heart I knew I needn't be concerned with evasive action—there was no reason to counter his advance with a strategic maneuver of my own. In this situation, as in every other, Edward was my protector. He always had been. And ever would be.

"I know it's disorienting," he whispered in my ear.

"Edward," I began hesitantly and was momentarily distracted by the musical sound of my own voice—like the chiming of bells.

He gazed into my eyes and smiled at the sound.

"I…love…you," I managed.

His smile widened—my favorite crooked smile—and he took me into his arms once more.

"I have so much to tell you," he whispered, holding me close. "So much has happened..."

"There will time to explain," Carlisle interjected softly, stepping forward. I'd never seen Carlisle's face before either, not really. I had an odd urge to blink—like I was staring at the sun.

"How do you feel, Bella?" Carlisle asked.

I considered that for a sixty-fourth of a second.

"Overwhelmed. There's so much…" I trailed off, listening to the bell-tone of my own voice again.

"Yes, it can be quite confusing."

I nodded one fast, jerky bob. "But I feel like me. Sort of. I didn't expect that."

Edwards arms squeezed lightly around my waist. "I told you so," he whispered.

"You are quite controlled," Carlisle mused. "More so than I expected, even with the time you had to prepare yourself mentally for this."

I considered how difficult it was to concentrate and whispered, "I'm not sure about that."

"It will help to hunt," Carlisle offered, turning toward Edward.

"Of course," Edward nodded, rising to his feet and taking my hand.

The mere mention of satiety underscored the now painful intensity of my escalating thirst, and I knew that Carlisle was right. Everything must wait until this need—this basic requirement—was met. And so, I allowed Edward to lead me towards my unfathomable future, one inevitable step at a time. At his side, I could do this. And what choice did I have?

I was, after all, a vampire now.