Disclaimer: I am NOT Stephenie Meyer and I don't own any of the Twilight series' characters or stories. I borrowed the dialogue and storyline from Breaking Dawn, but the rest is my own take on the story, as seen through Edward's eyes.
Chapter 24
Birth
Blood.
Everywhere.
The world, already tilting on its axis, was awash in a brilliant crimson hue. The gore was only surpassed by the blinding terror that seized every mind in the room – every mind except for Bella's. Her body wrenched itself in a grotesquely unnatural manner, spasms rippling outward from her midsection. The shocking display was made even more horrific by her utter lack of response.
The slow burn in my throat burst into flames as the scent of freshly spilled blood filled my nostrils. I steeled my resolve and forced my airway to close, but the damage was done as the sweet scent lingered in my lungs, stoking the flames that scorched their way up my throat.
Sharp cracks reverberated through Bella's body as our child, stricken by some yet unknown ailment, panicked, all thought and emotion overridden by the instinct to survive. All thoughts lingering on my own hunger evaporated.
Something's wrong. The baby's in distress, Rosalie thought as she hoisted Bella up in her arms and bolted for the stairs.
"We need to get her to Carlisle's study," she shouted. "Something's wrong."
"I can hear him, he's in distress," I gasped as I followed her up the stairs. "He's panicking."
"We can't wait for Carlisle. We'll have to do it. There's no time."
I shattered the switch in my haste to turn on the lights as Rosalie laid Bella on the table and began gathering the instruments.
"Morphine!" I shouted.
"Alice – get Carlisle on the phone!" Rosalie yelled.
Carlisle…phone…right…
A flustered Alice disappeared from the room just as Jacob appeared in the door, helpless and frightened. Ignoring my plea for morphine, Rosalie did her best to hold Bella down as she convulsed. The sound of shredding of fabric filled the room as Rosalie hastily ripped Bella's clothing away.
I grabbed the syringe of morphine from the tray of instruments and, ignoring standard protocol, thrust the needle into Bella's arm. If Bella were to die today, it would not be from infection.
"What's happening, Edward?" Jacob asked from across the room. I can't look.
"He's suffocating!" I hissed.
Placental abruption. "The placenta must have detached!" Rosalie added.
I turned to gather the instruments, making sure the syringe filled with my venom was within reach, when Bella's voice rang in my ears.
"Get him OUT!" she screamed.
I turned, locking eyes with Rosalie.
"He can't BREATHE!" Bella shrieked. "Do it NOW!"
I gaped at her for a fraction of a second, weighing the options, knowing that there had not been sufficient time for the morphine to spread through her blood stream and take effect.
I reached for her hand. "The morphine – "
She shook her head. "NO! NOW – " Fresh blood bubbled from her lips, choking off her words. I lifted her head up as best I could – her upper body and lower body seemed to be working against each other – one nearly lifeless while the other thrashed uncontrollably. I reached behind me to flip a switch and began suctioning the blood from her mouth to clear her airway. She sputtered and coughed, her hand wrapped around my wrist, her nails uselessly attempting to dig into my forearm.
I've got Carlisle. Alice appeared at Rosalie's side and clipped an earpiece to her ear.
"It's Bella. The baby – placental abruption, we think," Rosalie hissed into the phone, her words coming so fast, they were beginning to run together. I could hear Carlisle on the other end of the line – hear the fear in his voice, the distress that we would have to perform the delivery without him.
With Carlisle in Rosalie's ear to walk her through the process of delivering the baby, the responsibility of monitoring Bella's condition was left to me. I continued to suction her mouth, though the flow had ebbed slightly. Her recent outburst was a distant memory as she struggled for breath.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the glint of light as Rosalie raised the scalpel in her hand.
My free hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist. "Let the morphine spread!" I shouted.
"There's no time," she hissed back. "He's dying!"
My resolve faltered at the thought of losing them both and I loosened my grip. Rosalie wrenched her hand free and slid the scalpel across Bella's abdomen. Scarlet bloomed from the incision and flowed, hot and thick, across Bella's snowy skin. Bella winced, but was either too shocked or too focused on her struggle for breath to react further.
Blood. The singular thought rippled its way through the room and nearly bowled me over with its ferocity. I looked up to see Rosalie, her dark eyes crazed with thirst as she held the scalpel in her hand, the fresh blood dripping down her fingers. I was momentarily paralyzed by the realization the she was preparing to attack Bella.
I held Bella's head in my hands, afraid to let go for fear that she would drown in her own blood. I looked beseechingly at Jacob as I began to shout. "No, Rose!"
Without hesitation, Jacob leapt across the table, barreling into Rosalie and knocking her to the floor. He didn't flinch as the scalpel in her hand pierced his arm. I watched in admiration and horror as Jacob wrestled Rosalie toward the door. Even more impressive was the struggle within Rosalie's mind as she fought her inner demon with every ounce of strength she possessed.
I tore my eyes away as I heard Bella's heart falter. She stared up at me, unseeing. Panic seized me.
Alice grabbed Rosalie by the throat and hauled her up through the doorway and into the hall. Jacob pulled the scalpel from his arm and pressed his palm against the wound.
"Alice, get her out of here!" I shouted. "Take her to Jasper and keep her there! Jacob, I need you!"
With Rosalie incapacitated and the phone shattered in the struggle, it was left to Jacob and myself to deliver the baby and save Bella. Jacob ran to my side.
"CPR?"
"Yes!" He paused, his mind searching my face for any sign that I would be tempted. With Bella dying in my arms, my thirst was the furthest thing from my mind.
"Get her breathing!" I ordered as I moved from Bella's head toward the site of the incision. "I've got to get him out before – "
A loud crack pierced the air, followed by a deafening silence. Bella was frozen, unmoving, unresponsive. There was no cry, no scream of agony…nothing.
"Her spine," I gasped, feeling all the air whoosh from my lungs. My knees grew weak and I had to grip the table for support.
"Get it out of her!" Jacob growled, throwing the scalpel at me. "She won't feel anything now!"
I nodded and reached for the scalpel. Though the flow of blood was heavy, the initial incision Rosalie had made was relatively shallow. I ran the blade across the flesh, cutting deeper through layers of tissue. I eased the incision apart, exposing the bulging uterus. Dragging the scalpel across the membrane, I could hear the tip of the blade scrape against something hard, like a stone wrapped in flesh and blood.
As I worked, I listened to the sounds of the room – the faltering rhythm of Bella's heart, the sound of air being forced into her lungs at regular intervals, the sound of Jacob counting under his breath as he worked to keep her heart pumping. I could hear the voices of my siblings as they murmured quietly elsewhere in the house. I could hear Seth and Leah as they paced outside, nervously wondering what was transpiring inside. With all the sounds that filled my ears, nothing would compare to the next.
With no time to waste and with Carlisle's theories fresh in my mind, I squeezed my eyes shut as I sank my teeth into the protective barrier around the baby. The screeching sounds, like tearing metal, rang in my ears as I tore through the membrane with my teeth. Carlisle had been right about the amniotic sac possessing properties much like our skin. Ignoring the hunger that burned in my belly, I ripped my way through the thick wall, taking great care not to harm the baby.
"You stay with me now, Bella!" I heard Jacob yell. "Do you hear me? Stay! You're not leaving me. Keep your heart beating!"
I forced myself to work quickly as I listened to Bella's failing heart. I continued to bite my way across the barrier, creating an opening wide enough to deliver the baby. Feeling relatively certain that I had succeeded, I leaned up, wiping the blood and gore from my mouth with my forearm, and reached into Bella's abdomen. Warm, slippery flesh met my hands as I wrapped them around the tiny, human form. I lifted my arms up and was met with a sight that could only be described as an absolute miracle.
Time stopped.
I stared in marvel at the creature in my hands – perfectly formed and beautiful – like her mother. Her. The tiny baby in my arms was not the boy Bella had anticipated, but a precious baby girl. A daughter. Her eyes opened, her chocolate brown eyes, and her tiny fingers reached for me. I gazed in wonder. She was not the boy her mother imagined, nor the monster I had come to expect until only days before her birth. I could feel my heart tearing in two. Bella was the love of my life – of my existence – and before meeting her, I had never imagined I could love so deeply and completely. But as I held this child in my arms, my daughter, I found myself besieged by my immediate and absolute adoration of her.
"Renesmee," I whispered.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Bella weakly raise her arms. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she looked at the two of us. "Let me…" she whispered. "Give her to me."
Gently, I laid the baby on Bella's chest. Bella reached up with a shaky hand, stroking the side of her face and staring with the same awe.
"Renes…mee," she whispered. "So…beautiful."
I smiled at the meeting of mother and daughter – amazed that we had even succeeded thus far in such a dangerous endeavor. I found myself growing dangerously hopeful. But my smile quickly disappeared when Bella's expression changed from one of wonder to one of pain.
I reached for the baby and flinched when I saw the small crescent mark blooming red on Bella's chest. "No, Renesmee," I murmured, knowing that she would understand just as she had when she was still in the womb.
Her lips were stained red, though it was barely distinguishable from the gore that still coated her skin. She let out a frustrated cry, revealing two tiny rows of perfect, white teeth. Her small fingers gripped mine and she stared at me, her thoughts torn between her need for her mother and her desire to sate her hunger.
The room was suddenly too quiet. I turned my head to see Jacob pressing his hands to Bella chest, counting under his breath again, pumping her heart. But there was no response. Nothing.Bella's eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, her arms hanging limply at her sides.
Jacob leaned over Bella, her chest expanding as he blew a lungful of air into her mouth before again resuming chest compressions.
Renesmee let out a strangled cry as we both watched the scene before us. I froze in place, horrified by what I was seeing, shattered and terrified and in a state of utter shock. I knew I should do something, that I should help, but a crushing anguish washed over me, locking me in a prison of ice and stone. I watched, helpless, as my wife lay dead.
"What are you waiting for?" Jacob growled, not looking up from his task.
His words were enough to jolt me from my stupor. I needed to act now, before it was too late – if it wasn't too late already. "Take the baby," I pleaded, holding her out toward him.
"Throw it out the window," he hissed between compressions.
"Give her to me."
My eyes followed the sound of the voice to Rosalie standing in the doorway, arms stretched forward. I growled under my breath, eyeing her warily, feeling suddenly very protective of the daughter I held in my arms.
"I've got it under control." I promise. "Give me the baby, Edward. I'll take care of her until Bella…" Oh, God…
I hesitated, but felt I had little choice. Rosalie appeared to be in control of her hunger, but there wasn't time to scrutinize her further. I gave her a warning glare as I handed Renesmee to her waiting hands. The corner of Rosalie's mouth turned up as she cradled the newborn in her arms and hastened from the room.
Jacob was still counting under his breath, still struggling to restart Bella's heart. I snatched the syringe of venom from the table and moved to Bella's side.
"Move your hands, Jacob."
Jacob paused to look up. "What's that?"
Frustrated, I shoved his hands out of the way, hearing the familiar crunch of bone in the process, and thrust the needle through Bella's chest, straight into her heart. "My venom," I answered as I pushed the plunger down, causing her silent heart to shudder.
"Keep it moving," I ordered.
The venom was enough to jolt her heart awake, but in her state, it would take more than that to save her. As Jacob resumed chest compressions, I knelt beside her head. "I'm sorry," I whispered in her ear. I pushed back her hair and bit down on her slender neck, injecting more venom, and sealing the wound closed. I then moved to her arm and her wrists and so on, recreating the wounds given to me when Carlisle changed me in an effort to introduce as much venom in as many points on her body as possible.
The initial jolt of her heart had been just that and, though Jacob was continuing to pump her heart, it seemed reluctant to respond. It can't be too late, I thought to myself. I stood over her, watching Jacob work, feeling helpless as I waited for the venom to take effect, to work its magic.
There's nothing…just me, just him. Working over a corpse.
I lowered my head into my hands and tugged at my hair as I listened to Jacob's thoughts. He was giving up. She's not there anymore, he thought. …longing to get away from here and never, ever come back.
"Go, then," I seethed, shoving his hands out of the way. He would be of no help to Bella if he didn't believe she could be saved. I resumed compressions myself, ignoring Jacob as he stood silently.
"She's not dead," I growled. "She's going to be fine."
But was she? Her heart protested at each compression, her blood thickening as I forced it to continue its flow. Her skin was growing cold and her pallor even more pale. She laid perfectly still, her eyes staring blankly upward. Dead.
I squeezed my eyes shut as a strangled cry escaped my lips. The tears I could not shed burned behind my eyes. I felt trapped, like a desperate man hiding in an attic crawlspace, clawing in hopeless agony at a wooden floor. The memory flooded my consciousness, reminding me of how it felt to lose her once. And I could feel that same familiar darkness creeping over me now.
Every memory of her flashed before my eyes in a fraction of a second. Too short. We were supposed to spend eternity together. Forever. I wasn't ready to let her go. We had been through so much, struggled to be together. And she had fought with her very life just to bring our daughter into this world – she deserved better than this. For such a beautiful soul to be ripped from this world…
NO! I pounded my fist on the table and forced myself upright again, resuming chest compressions. She's not dead. She's not dead. I repeated my mantra over and over, forcing myself to keep trying. Bella would not have given up on me. I couldn't give up on her. Not ever.
I pumped her heart faster, compelling the viscous blood to flow, forcing the venom through to every cell in her body. I closed my eyes, unable to focus on her face, on her blank expression. I couldn't allow myself to see her like this – it was too much for me to bear, too final.
"Please, Bella," I begged, whispering my prayer to anyone who would listen. "Please come back to me. I need you. Renesmee needs you. Please." My voice broke, overcome by the grief that threatened to crush me.
Unbidden, the thoughts rushed into my mind – what if I was too late? What if this doesn't work? How could I survive in this world without her? I lived for a hundred years without knowing this kind of love, but I didn't believe I could endure a life without her. She was everything to me. Selfishly, I clung to the hope that if she did not revive, that I could resume my efforts to provoke the Volturi and join her in death. But I couldn't do that. Not now. Not with…Renesmee.
Our daughter would be the only piece of Bella that I had left – the only part of her I could keep with me. She had the same eyes, the same blushing cheeks, the same hold on my heart. Bella had been right – she knew that if she didn't survive the birth, that I wouldn't be able to abandon our child. And I couldn't.
"Bella, please," I sobbed. "I love you. Please come back. I don't know how do to this without you."
Then, without warning, my prayers were heard. Her silent heart sputtered, like an old engine starting up after a long stretch of dormancy. The sputtering rapidly increased until her heart was pounding so fiercely that the vibrations traveled up through my arms.
"Bella," I gasped, feeling a flood of relief wash over me.
I lifted my hands and her heart continued to hammer in her chest, pumping, working – changing. I leaned over, cupping her face in my palms and placing an impassioned kiss on her forehead. "Bella," I whispered. "Can you hear me?"
She was perfectly still. If I could not hear her heart, I wouldn't believe that anything had changed. Her eyes still stared blankly at the ceiling. Something's not right, I thought to myself. I remembered all too vividly the pain of the change, the intense agony as the venom scorched its way through my veins. She should be screaming in anguish, but her lips remained silent and her expression tranquil. Did I do something wrong? Was it possible that I had introduced too much venom into her bloodstream? Was the injection into her heart too much for her – would it have an effect opposite to the one that was desired?
I knelt by her side, one hand tugging on my hair in frustration and the other gripping her unresponsive fingers. The only reassurance I had was the continued staccato of her heart, so loud that it echoed throughout the room. Blowing out a slow breath, I cupped her hand to my cheek and laid my head down beside her, closing my eyes. The stress of the day, of the last weeks, settled over me, leaving me weak and emotionally exhausted.
A small hand gripped my shoulder and I lifted my head to see Alice standing beside me. She smiled softly and wrapped her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly.
"She's going to be fine," she whispered.
I shook my head. Even from Alice, the news was difficult to believe. "Are you sure?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Really, Edward? Did you hit your head? Did you forget who you're talking to?"
"No." I shrugged. "But before…"
"Before, Bella's entire future was being dictated by her pregnancy. Now that the two have been separated, it's much easier for me to see."
I nodded weakly. I wanted to believe Alice, more than I ever wanted to believe her before. But this was so strange, so far distanced from what was expected that I found it difficult to believe any reassurance.
Alice patted my shoulder and moved to Bella's other side, smiling as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She splayed her hand across Bella's face and gently closed her eyes, making her appear asleep rather than departed.
"I thought you might like some help," Alice offered.
"Help?"
She tilted her head to the side. "Well, if Jasper hopes to leave the attic any time in the next few days, we might want to…" Clean up.
I followed her gaze to the resulting chaos left by Renesmee's delivery. Blood pooled around Bella's body, dripping from the table to the floor in crimson puddles. I cringed, seeing the bruised and mutilated remains. It was no wonder that the mothers in Kaure's stories did not survive. But as I stared, I saw something amazing. The incision in Bella's abdomen had grown smaller, the venom already working to knit her body back together. Although still wary, I found myself bolstered by this new discovery.
Alice disappeared from the room and reappeared seconds later with an armful of cloths and a bucket of warm water held in the crook of her other arm. She set them both down on Carlisle's desk and set to work. She poured some water into a small basin and dipped a clean cloth into the water as she began wiping it gently across Bella's blood-stained skin. The white cloth quickly tinged pink as she dragged it across Bella's body.
I reached out, stilling her hands, and took the bowl and cloth for myself. Feeling the need to be of use, I continued to cleanse Bella's body. Alice nodded and gathered the bucket, kneeling as she began to mop up the floor. We worked in tandem at a human's pace as we cleaned up the mess that had been made.
Within the hour, both Bella and the room were free of any trace of blood. The scent of bleach permeated the room and a waft of smoke drifted up from the small fire Alice built outside to burn the blood-soaked cloths. The damage done by the scalpel was almost completely sealed, the only evidence of the delivery, a slender pink seam that ran the width of Bella's abdomen. Her heart continued to beat, but she remained as still as a corpse, unlike any transitioning vampire I had ever witnessed.
Alice returned with a clean sheet and draped it across Bella's body, giving her the illusion of slumber. "That should do for now," she whispered to herself. I have something special for her to wear when she wakes up.
"Thank you, Alice."
She smiled. "It was my pleasure – the least I could do after how little use I was during her pregnancy."
"That wasn't your fault," I murmured.
"I know, but it still bothered me that I couldn't help." I hate being blind.
"I'm sorry I was hard on you – on everyone. That wasn't fair."
She waved her hand dismissively. "Water under the bridge. If Jasper's life had been threatened like this, I would have been out of my head with worry, too. I would have done anything to save him."
"I know you would – just as Carlisle would do anything for Esme and Emmett anything for Rosalie. But it still doesn't make it right."
She waved me off as she moved toward the door. "I'll be back in a little while with Bella's dress. But now I should tell Jasper it's okay to come out."
"But the couch - and the carpet?"
"Taken care of." She smiled.
I should have known that Alice wouldn't have missed a thing. She rarely did, especially where Jasper was concerned. He was lucky to have her. We all were.
I was once again alone with my wife. With the blood washed away and her skin wiped clean, she looked almost serene. But that nagging thought in the back of my mind wouldn't disappear – if the venom was working as it should, why was she so peaceful? Her reactions should be anything but peaceful, the absolute antithesis of it.
I remembered when Carlisle had changed Emmett. He used morphine in advance of the venom just as I had here, but Emmett behaved just as we all had – screaming, thrashing, begging for death. I could not find a reasonable explanation for Bella's divergence from the standard. Then again, she always said and did the unexpected. It was one of the many things I loved about her. Why should this be any different?
The house was quiet, save for the beating of three hearts. Three. The first two belonged to Bella and to Jacob, but the third was new. Renesmee. Her heart thrummed like the beating of a hummingbird's wings. It was certainly unexpected. We heard no heartbeat when she was in the womb. It must have been the protective barrier that prevented us from hearing. Just as the ultrasound bounced uselessly off the barrier so we could not see inside, the sound of her heart beating must have resonated off the walls within and remained hidden from us.
It was still difficult for me to believe that I had a daughter. I never thought it would be possible. I had long ago given up on the notion – the thought hadn't occurred to me, even after I found Bella. We had been given something miraculous. A true gift.
Almost on cue, Rosalie appeared in the doorway with Renesmee swaddled in her arms.
"Would you like to hold your daughter?" she asked, walking toward me.
I stood and took her from Rosalie's outstretched arms. She looked up at me with intelligent eyes and smiled as she reached her tiny hands toward my face. Her skin was porcelain, the same color Bella's had been, and the same blush I loved so much stained her round cheeks. I cradled her in my arms and leaned down, brushing my lips gently across her forehead.
I glanced up to see Rosalie running her fingers through Bella's hair, smoothing out the tangles. I watched with curiosity, my sister who, on the surface, seemed to have a singular uncaring focus. She felt my eyes on her and looked up.
She'll be radiant. "I'm happy for you both," she whispered, smiling. "I'm sorry for the way I've acted. It was never my intention to hurt you. I was only doing what Bella asked of me."
"I know."
"I know Bella chose me because I would understand what she wanted – because it was something I have wanted for myself just as desperately. And I know I've given Bella a hard time for the choices she's made, for her willingness to give up her humanity. But I think, through all this, I understand her a little better, too."
I could see the sincerity in her eyes and hear it in her voice. For all the horrible thoughts I had about my sister in the past weeks, her intentions were motivated not by selfishness, but by love. I turned my gaze back to the child in my arms and I couldn't imagine missing out on this. I nearly destroyed this tiny miracle in my ignorance and fear. She nuzzled in the crook of my arm and closed her eyes, her thoughts content.
"Thank you," I whispered, glancing up at Rosalie.
She nodded as she turned to exit the room. She stopped in the doorway and turned her head slightly. "I'm glad you see now that she was worth protecting."
She was so right. A pang of guilt stabbed my heart as I imagined what we would have missed out on had Bella conceded and allowed us to terminate the pregnancy. I sat back down at Bella's side and watched as Renesmee began to dream. It was a marvel to witness – who would have imagined such a child was possible. There was so much we could learn from her. Just by coming into this world, she had taught me so much.
I felt more at ease with her in my arms, like I was holding a piece of Bella next to my heart as I waited for her to return to me. Renesmee's warmth seeped through me. She was warm, like Bella, but her temperature appeared to run about ten degrees hotter. I brought her tiny hand to my lips and kissed her fingers. Her scent was similar to Bella's as well, though altered a bit through my genetic influence.
I eased back in the chair and closed my eyes, imagining that I could sleep as peacefully as Renesmee was, as still as Bella appeared to be. A blanket of calm surrounded me, no doubt a gift from my brother. I could feel myself sink deeper into the chair, deeper into a state of relaxation. It was the first release of tension I had felt in weeks.
I don't know how much time passed as Renesmee slept in my arms. Her dreams filled my head with thoughts of her mother, of Bella. A strong hand gripped my shoulder and I slowly opened my eyes. I turned my head to see a smiling Carlisle standing above me. There was wonder in his eyes, tinged with sadness and disappointment. I'm so sorry I wasn't here.
I nodded, knowing there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. We had no way of predicting that Bella would go into labor while he was away. I shifted in my chair, easing Renesmee from the crook of my arm. Carlisle gazed at her with admiration and love. I stood up and held her out to him.
"Would you like to hold your granddaughter?"
A/N: Thanks everyone for sticking with me on this long journey. This chapter was a challenge to get through – lots of emotions coming into play. I hope you enjoyed it.
Thanks to my beta, Nellybear 85, and my good friend, misticbutterfly, for their continued help and support. I don't know what I'd do without them.