Author's Notes: I thank all of you that are still there - still wanting to hear more of the mischief that goes on in my head where Bella and Edward are concerned! lol I think I'm going to enjoy the escapades of the small new additions to the Cullen family just as much as any of you! Please reviews to this chapter, even if you're not normally a reviewer - I would really like to know your thoughts and know that you are still there! I am trying desperately to get back to a post on each and every Friday, and things seem to be moving in that direction!

Disclaimer: All the Twilight stuff belongs to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. I'm just playing in her sandbox.

Chapter 128 Consequences

I turned my head to look at Edward who was regarding our son

with the most stern look I had seen on his face since he had flung Tanya out the window of our hotel in Venice. I turned my gaze back to our son in time to see him stare at his dad, mouthing the words,

"uhhh oooooh . . ."

~oooOooo~

BPOV

Edward's arm reached out, lightning fast, and grabbed our son by the wrist as he had apparently intended to get away from my husbands glare. Masen stopped, statue still with one arm straightened, his father's fingers circled around his wrist, his palm against the bedsheets as he had started to push himself up and off the bed.

"Go and get back in your crib. You did not have permission to get out of it," Edward told our son sternly, an icy cool in his voice.

To look at his face, you would have thought the little boy had been threatened with torture, some terrible ancient lashing with a whip or bamboo under the fingernails. His eyes were round, white showing in all directions from the brilliant green centers. His eyebrows were raised in stark contrast to the chin that was dropped, leaving his perfect little mouth somewhat open, teeth glimmering both from in the light from the window and from the rainbows shimmering off Edward's skin. His curls still swayed back and forth in front of his shoulders from the quick movement of his attempted escape.

His wrist released, it took only a "go NOW" from Edward to send him scampering away, his movement blurring his small form.

I felt Edward's head drop slowly back to the pillow above my shoulder, his hand dipping under the covers to snuggle me closer to him as his leg crossed over me to rest between mine. I brought a hand up to stroke his cheek and kissed his face lightly, hugging him to me as he let out a long sigh.

"He's going to be a handful, isn't he, in spite of the mind reading connection you two have," I asked. The answer came with the merest whisper, yet the force of thunder.

"Yes."

"Have you talked with him about why we're upset with him?" I whispered, as though that would make any difference to Masen's ability to hear what I said.

"Every single step of the way back here, and all through our shower and clean up," he sighed, seeming frustrated. "He just doesn't understand that he's a baby . . . insists he isn't, in fact."

"Well . . . apparently he can do quite a few things that much older children do, even adults," I commented, contemplating exactly what that might mean.

"That's the problem. He can. He seems to have gained all the experiences I've had, like you gave a baby the knowledge it took years of growing up and existing to obtain. How do I tell him he can't use it, can't display it?" he frowned, nuzzling his face into the hollow of my neck, just above my collarbone as my arm under him held him to me and stroked his hair as though he were a small child.

"You can't," I said firmly.

Edward lifted his head slightly to look into both my eyes, his head cocked slightly as though he were questioning that he had heard correctly.

"You can't," I stated flatly, pulling his head back down on my shoulder. "We just have to teach him that it can't be seen or noticed by humans. And," I added resolutely, "that he has to mind his parents."

"Bella . . ."

"Edward, I would love to keep him as my little baby, swaddle him in blankets and sing him to sleep every night after burping him and changing his diaper . . . and if he were human I would. But he's not. He's more and more like you everyday and . . ."

"I'm so sorry about that, Bella. I wish he were..."

"No. Never say that," I insisted somewhat harshly. I turned my head and he shifted slightly so that we were looking at each other, his face surprised, " I love that he's you. When will you ever learn Edward Cullen that I love you just as you are and I love our son for himself, not something he should have been or not been."

He kissed me then, long and soft, his hand cupping my cheek and his leg hugging me to him.

"God I love you," he murmured in my ear, "I never deserved you but I will spend the rest of eternity thanking God for you."

"I love you, too. Now, tell me," I said as I squirmed to get comfortable, my body touching his from head to toe, "what in the world was Masen thinking getting out of bed to follow you and what happened since he did?"

He drew a deep, unnecessary breath, as though he was trying to decide where to begin. His hand absently rubbed circles on my belly, just above where our twins lay still too small to be evident.

"Apparently uncle Emmett told him that he could go hunting with us when he was bigger," he chuckled, "and your son decided that he was bigger and wouldn't be kept from showing us that."

My eyebrows shot up, but I smiled in spite of myself.

"Bella . . . he fed."

"He what? Don't you think he is a little young . . . or small . . . or whatever," I said flustered, my body going somewhat stiff at the thought, "don't you think it's too early to let him feed from an animal? Which one of you killed a sheep and let him have some, why I'll . . ."

I sat bolt upright in bed and started to fling off the covers, determined to at least verbally fuss at whoever had done it. I felt his hand on my shoulder, gently pulling me back down on the bed, his hand moving the covers over me as he propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at me.

"Bella . . ." he said looking as though he willed me to believe something that was quite incredible to him as well, "he hunted for himself. No one killed for him and let him feed, he did it himself."

I was stunned. Nothing could have been further from my thoughts than the image of my sweet little newborn actually hunting . . . killing something and feeding from it. He drank blood of course, I knew that. He had since he was born, but to kill something himself . . .

"Edward . . ." I barely murmured, astounded, "but, but, aren't those sheep larger than he is? Don't they have horns?"

I thought for a minute and realized, no. No, I must have jumped to that conclusion all by myself. Edward had never said sheep. There must be squirrels and rodents, rabbits for sure somewhere in the mountains. He was possibly quick enough to catch one of those . . . but I would have thought he would play with it, pet it . . . that's what small kids did, they played with little animals like that, they didn't eat them for heaven's sake. I had to remind myself, before I spoke, Masen was no ordinary human kid . . . my son was half vampire, and I had to expect things like this. Not only would his abilities show, which I could plainly see, but the resultant behavior that would follow those abilities.

"Bella," Edward hesitated, "his first kill was a lynx."

"Lynx?" I asked, knowing in the back of my mind what it was but needing to make sure.

"Lynx. Somewhat smaller than a mountain lion but every bit as ferocious."

He must have felt me tense, or saw my face loose all its color. His arm around me tightened and he hurried to try and comfort me.

"Bella, remember I told you he was fine. Bella . . . our son is unhurt, not a scratch on him, sweetheart. He is completely whole, do you hear me?" he said, his lips were moving and I heard the words, they simply did not register.

"Come on, let's get you some hot tea and something to eat. You look as though you need it," he said as I found us both dressed in sweatpants and tee shirts in the dining area of our suite, thick wool socks that I had been wearing the night before pulled onto my bare feet to keep me warm.

Edward made hot tea and about the time he finished and handed a mug to me, the porter arrived with a large tray of breakfast. Edward must have ordered one of everything, especially eggs and pancakes . . . but then I remembered . . . Masen ate food as well.

"Mama, mama, mama . . ." the chant came from our son's room.

I looked at Edward and he shrugged his shoulders slightly, answering our son, "Alright then, Masen. You can come have breakfast with your mom."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth, our son was climbing into the chair beside me at the table. Edward left for a minute, returning with books he had taken from the shelf in the living room and placed them in the chair so that our son could sit on them, making him tall enough to eat at the table with us.

I cut up bites of pancake for him, putting it on a plate with scrambled eggs and sausage and put it in front of him . . . with a fork.

"I know your dad has been giving you eggs and chicken and bites of other foods, son, but you need to learn to use a fork to eat them. If you think you're big, you need to start using forks and spoons to eat, like I do," I said, placing a napkin by his plate.

He stared at me, then picked up his fork and neatly stabbed a sausage and started taking bites off of it, seeming to enjoy it. We watched as he ate all the meat and eggs we gave him, but spit out the pancake when he had only a small bite. I should have known, if I had taken the time to give it any thought. Masen might be willing to eat human food, but that only seemed to extend to things that were produced by animals . . . or meat.

"Sorry I made you upset, mommy. I told daddy I was sorry. I just wanted to go with him, that's all," Masen told me timidly, his fork absently stabbing at a sausage.

"Well, mommy was worried that you would get too cold out in the snow, or hurt. I don't ever want you to get lost from us, Masen, we love you," I explained.

"Dad told me. I didn't mean to cause trouble," he said, his head dipping so that he stared at his plate.

"Your grandpa Charlie and grandpa Carlisle are headed here, they were worried as well, son, and grandma Esme and your uncle Jake. My dad and Jake flew halfway around the world to get here and help find you. Worrying them was unfair, Masen, and unnecessary,"I said as sternly as I could, continuing to eat my pancakes as well as the one Masen had left on his plate.

"Daddy explained about spanking," he said, looking up to meet my gaze as I pushed his curls back behind his shoulders. "Are you going to spank me?"

I glanced at Edward. We hadn't had a chance to discuss punishment. I had been so worried at first that I hadn't even thought of it. During the night though, after hearing that my dad was actually coming to keep me from hurting myself by spanking my son's hard bottom, I had given it some thought. Edward would go along with me, so I ventured ahead, telling him what I had planned.

"No. I'm not going to spank you," I told him, seeing his face relax. "Your father may though."

His face tensed and it was as though he shuttered. From the look on both their faces, I would have to guess that Edward had already told him he was going to spank him.

"I think it may be partly your dad's and my fault that you left on your own," I said, watching my husbands face look actually startled at what I was saying.

"Son, your dad and I have just been so happy to have you and so happy to hold you and care for you and watch you grow that I think we may not have explained to you in enough detail exactly what we expect from you."

Edward cocked his head, mirroring the exact look I was getting from our son.

"I know we have given you some rules - rules that you broke last night, like getting out of your bed without permission. There will be punishment for that, and I know we have told you how you should act and what you must not do in front of humans . . . but I don't think we ever explained exactly what a normal human baby your age would be capable of," I paused long enough to clear away some of the dishes and for him to think about that for a minute. It was obvious that he and Edward were exchanging thoughts a mile a minute.

"You changed your fathers plans for the playroom at the house in Bolzano, didn't you?" I asked.

"Yes ma'am. I wanted books and to read things and dad had planned toys," he answered.

"Well, then I think we can do two things at once. You can improve your reading and you can learn what a human baby of your age, and other ages, is expected to be able to do."

Edward and Masen continued glaring at me with puzzled looks.

"Your father taught you to read a couple of weeks ago, right?" I asked, knowing the answer. Edward had been so proud of his son, surprised that he had wanted a "reading room" that resembled a den much more than he had wanted a "playroom" with toys, but taking advantage of it. With Masen's photographic vampire like memory, books could only be read to him once without his being able to repeat it before you read it for him and that had led Edward to just set about teaching him to read for himself.

Masen didn't answer, but just looked at me expectantly.

"I ordered a set of books, one for each year through the age of twelve in human years, and you have to spend three hours each day reading them, start to finish. You need to know exactly how you should be acting, should we be out and around humans for whatever age your body appears to be. Once you're twelve or so in appearance, we'll see if we need to continue the books."

Edward's jaw dropped some small bit as he leaned over and kissed my cheek, saying "You're amazing, sweetheart."

Our son sat stock still, his little forehead furrowed, brows almost touching. It was odd to see such a frown of concentration on such a small child. Finally he looked up and met my eyes.

"Can I act normal around you and daddy and my aunts and uncles and grandpa Carlisle and grandma Esme?" Masen asked, seeming worried.

"Of course you can. We don't want to change you, son, you just have to be aware of the humans and what they expect . . . in order to keep our secret," Edward explained, reaching to stroke his head and comfort him.

"And grandpa Charlie, he's a human?"

"And grandpa Charlie. He is the only human, other than your mom and members of the Quilette tribe, that you can act like you are something other than human around. Understand?" he continued.

"I understand, daddy," he answered, starting to get down from his chair.

"I'm not through yet," I said.

He froze.

I continued as sternly as I possibly could.

"And since you seem to think you should be allowed to do things that older children do, you need to pay the dues that older children, and adults, have paid," I said, the corner of my mouth giving away the smile I was trying to hide.

Masen started to speak, but I cut him off.

"I ordered a complete set of home school books and materials, starting with per-kindergarten and going through eighth grade. If you expect to be treated older, you need to have the information and knowledge that older children have . . ."

"But . . ." Masen all but stammered in his high pitched baby voice.

"Three hours a day. Everyday until you complete every single lesson," I told him, my arms crossed and my jaw set.

"Both things? But that's lots of time every day!" he stammered, "And daddy is still going to spank me?" he asked, tears starting to show in his eyes.

I looked to Edward as he sat rigid at the table, his hands clasped together on the table in front of him.

"Yes, son, I am," he said, resolutely. "If you're through eating, you can go to your room. Your toys are on the chair, as well as the books you brought on the train. I need to talk to your mommy," Edward told him, expecting him to jump at the chance to get away from me.

He was just ridiculously advanced for a three month old . . . barely even that old! I sighed. He was an individual, that was for sure, and there were no guidelines for how to deal with him, or his needs. We just had to love him and do the very best we could manage and hope it was enough. After he got down from his chair, Masen walked over to Edward and put a hand on his father's leg, staring at him. They were having one of those unnerving silent conversations, and I had to complain.

"Enough you guys, you're not allowed to communicate without using words I can hear when I'm in the room with you!" I insisted as I watched my son try to hid the fact that he was rolling his eyes.

"Masen just wanted to know if I cleaned up Teddy yet, baby," my husband told me, turning back to face the little monster standing by his leg, "No, Masen. I haven't cleaned him up yet. Mommy and I were sleeping," he said, making sure not to catch my eye and loose the stern look on his face, "I'll go and see if we can fix him right now, okay?"

Masen toddled off and I think we both breathed an unwitting sigh of relief. Edward shook his head slowly side to side, staring at me . . . pulling me to my feet and hugging me tightly to him.

"Bella, that was brilliant. You never cease to amaze me. I hadn't even thought that maybe part of the fault was ours. You think of things so differently than I do," he whispered, holding me to him and stroking my hair.

"You're male," I said, apparently confusing him.

"Now, where is Teddy?" I asked, looking around to see if he was on one of the sofas or chairs.

"In the bathroom. I didn't want to put him on the furniture," he said dubiously.

"Edward?" I questioned, giving him a sideways look as I headed towards the bathroom.

The sight of the teddy bear wet, splattered with blood and dirt was no more than I had expected, well, I expected the dirty and wet part. It was the clothes . . . the footed sleeper than my son had been wearing when he had been put to bed in his crib on the train. There really weren't feet in it anymore, just tatters of the plastic soles ripped from the fabric . . . what fabric there was. I held up the little sleeper to see where sharp claws had ripped it to the point that I would never have guessed what it had been if I hadn't known. Lynx? Had Edward told me that my son had killed a small mountain lion? I felt myself shiver, as though I was cold, and I saw the startled look on Edward's face . . . but that was the last thing I remembered.

~oooOooo~

I heard, rather than saw them. Edward's siblings were standing by the bed, Edward sitting by me with my hand in his, gently stroking my knuckles.

"Dude, are you serious?" Emmett glared in disbelief, "I thought the little guy was protecting himself or that the cat growled at him or something."

"Well, he was protecting Teddy. When he saw the cat with it's paw on his bear, his mind changed," Edward explained.

"What changed," I asked, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room.

"Bella," are you alright baby?" my startled husband asked.

Impossible.

Unusual at the very least, but he was seemingly caught off guard at my having been awake. He must have been caught up deeply in thought for that to ever have happened. My breathing and heart rate were second nature to him, and he would have known I was waking up . . .

"I'm fine, Edward," I said more sharply than I had intended. Pulling myself to a sitting position, my back resting on pillows against the headboard. "I really am fine, baby," I said more softly, squeezing his hand to apologise.

He let out a breath he had seemed to be holding and answered me.

"Masen's entire mindset changed," he explained, looking somewhat puzzled. "It wasn't just that he took on the thoughts of a predator, like we do," he said, gesturing to his siblings, "There was something more. He sensed more."

He stopped there, becoming silent and thoughtful as everyone stared at him, contemplating what in the world he meant. Shaking his head slightly, a very human trait he had adapted, he continued.

"I have to think about it and spend longer with Masen to try and understand. He's just . . ."

He was cut off by the calls from our son.

"Daddy! Daddy can I please come in there with you guys?" he called out.

"He's been asking for the last ten minutes," my husband chuckled, "He finally decided to use his void\ce thinking that one of you might give in and give him permission to join us."

"Well, it isn't like he hasn't heard every word," Jasper said. "Can I go get the little darlin'?"

"Sure," Edward and I said at the same time, but Edward continued. "No, it isn't like we can keep anything from him. He hears as well as any of us and I have yet to find an effective way of guarding my thoughts from him."

"He really is going to be a handful," he said, looking at me.

Masen appeared looking almost smug in his uncle's arms as they entered the room.

"Son, mom doesn't want us talking without speaking when she's in the room, remember?" Edward told him.

"I remember, dad."

"Masen, just because your big oaf of an uncle told you you could go hunting with him when you got bigger," Rosalie explained, pausing to smack Emmett on the shoulder, "doesn't mean that you can disobey your mom and dad. What they say goes, above anyone else."

"If your parents tell you 'no' to something, you can NOT come and ask one of us and get the answer you want. If you do, you'll be in trouble with us as well as with your mom and dad. Understand?" Alice asked, sympathetically.

"That's right," Emmett agreed, rubbing his arm," "You'll get us in trouble too, doing that!"

Jasper turned his face to the little boy in his arms, smiling as he added, "You wouldn't want to see your mom have to spank uncle Emmett would you?"

Masen's eyes lit up and Edward rolled on the bed, laughing almost uncontrollably.

"You really shouldn't have said that, Jasper!" he managed to blurt out, "Now I have to keep tabs on the games he's going to play getting each of you to do what he wants by threatening to get you in trouble with his mom!"

I sighed, reaching out my arms to take my son and hold him, running my fingers through his curls to try and tame them as he looked up at me with his little cherub face, eyes smiling sweetly. It was a good thing he had aunts and uncles with inhuman abilities . . . they were going to need them to deal with their nephew. I looked at Edward, laughter still apparent in his features as he lay sprawled out on the foot of our bed, arms outstretched above his head and a smile on his face.

Masen really was going to be a handful.

~oooOooo~