Disclaimer:
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc., associated with the Twilight Saga are the property of Stephenie Meyer. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. This work is created solely for entertainment purposes and is not intended for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.
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"I'm so sorry, Seth. I should have been closer," Edward apologized again, his voice a low murmur, his gaze fixed somewhere on the floor by Seth's feet as Grandpa Carlisle meticulously secured another piece of the makeshift brace to Seth's visibly trembling arm. The young shifter winced, a sharp intake of breath betraying his pain and discomfort.
My own newborn senses, still a chaotic symphony of heightened awareness, prickled with a strange mix of empathy for Seth and irritation at the unnecessary apology. It wasn't Edward's fault. He hadn't succumbed to a primal rage, hadn't attempted to tear Jacob apart for something beyond his control. No, the responsibility for the volatile outburst, the one that necessitated Carlisle's intervention, lay squarely at Bella's feet. Her scent, sharp and metallic like fresh blood, still clung faintly to the air, a reminder of the barely contained fury that had lashed out.
"Seth, I -" Bella began to apologize, her words catching slightly, her eyes wide and focused on Seth's injury.
"Don't worry about it, Bella. I'm totally fine," Seth said quickly, cutting her off before she could fully articulate her remorse. His bravado, however, didn't quite reach his wide, still-shocked eyes.
"Bella, love, no one is judging you. You are doing so well," Edward murmured, his hand finding hers in a gesture of comfort.
'Easy for him to say,' I thought. His words felt smooth, too smooth, while a jittery feeling buzzed inside me. It was…a wrong feeling for what was happening. Of course, they weren't 'judging' the newborn. This possessiveness, this volatile reaction to a perceived threat to her fledgling family, was practically expected from a vampire. It felt strange; Jacob, the imprinted wolf. The one whose feelings pulled strongly for Renesmee was the one who had nearly been hurt, defended only by Seth's intervention.
"Why are you apologizing again?" Mom asked, her voice sharp as she swept into the room, her gaze assessing the scene with cool precision. "Seth knew the risks when he interfered with your and Jacob's argument…and trust me, Leah will have some very pointed words with him later."
I made a small, almost inaudible sound, mimicking a snort, a silent, almost inaudible puff of air through my nose. A flicker of something sharp-like Mom's scent when she was annoyed-went through me as I absently focused on the feeling of Leah's coarse hair against my cheek where she held me. She paced restlessly along the riverbank outside, her movements mirroring the turmoil I felt churning within me. My hearing had undergone a dramatic shift in the past few hours, a dizzying influx of sounds that made me question my perception. Was this my new reality, or was I merely mimicking the amplified senses of the supernatural beings surrounding me? How else could I discern the hushed tones and subtle shifts in emotion emanating from inside the house?
Leah's intense emotional state flickered between anxiety for her injured pack mate and brother, Seth, a sharp wave that seemed like palpable murderousness directed at the cause of the conflict with Bella, a deep-seated worry about the uncertain future, and a fierce, unwavering care that anchored on me. Leah's feelings swirled around me - sharp worry for Seth, a hot spike aimed at Bella, a deep thrumming for me, and a big wobbly fear about…well, everything. It was too much, too many threads to hold.
Seth looked up, his youthful face paling further. "I didn't even think of that, argh… she is going to kill me."
"You are just a pup, Seth…so of course you wouldn't think of the consequences," Mom's lips curved, the corners of her golden eyes crinkling slightly, though the set of her jaw remained firm. "But what's done is done…so let's move on to another matter, shall we?"
Seth merely grumbled under his breath, a sound of weary resignation, before closing his eyes as if seeking refuge in sleep, leaving Bella, Edward, and Mom to their hushed, weighty conversation.
"Ah, what do you mean, Rose?" Bella asked, her brow furrowed in genuine confusion.
"Let's sit, Bella," Mom sighed, her usual sharp edges softened with a hint of something akin to pity. "What I need to discuss with you will be difficult to understand initially, but you must know. I hope Edward hasn't spoken of this to you yet?"
"Of course I didn't," Edward scoffed, turning his head away slightly. "I could have, but it wouldn't have changed her choice. The outcome is the same."
"Edward, what do you mean?" Bella asked, her voice a little higher than before, her fingers twisting in her lap. "Rosalie, what is going on? Is something wrong with Renesmee?"
"Renesmee is fine, Bella," Mom began, her gaze unwavering as she seemed to gather herself. "But she is… part of this somehow. Look, you gave birth to not just Renesmee…"
Bella's breath hitched, her crimson eyes widening with apprehension. "What are you saying?"
"…but also her younger sister."
"Another daughter?" Bella's eyes widened in utter disbelief, swiveling sharply towards Edward, a silent accusation in their depths. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because it's not that simple, Bella," Mom stated, her voice softening slightly, taking on a more gentle yet firm tone.
Edward finally broke eye contact with Bella, his shoulders slumping, his gaze dropping to the floor as he spoke. "Phoebe… she doesn't see you or me as her parents. She broke her bond with both of us and chose both Emmett and Rosalie as her parents. This happened while you were still carrying her in your womb."
Bella made a small, sharp sound, her hand flying to her chest as if to hold something in. Her scent spiked with something cold and sharp, like broken glass. Her whole body went stiff, her scent a chaotic storm of sharp edges and falling feelings. It was a terrible, breaking sound, the one she made inside, even if no one else heard it.
"What…how…why?" Bella whispered, each word seeming to scrape her throat, her eyes wide and unblinking on Edward, a silent, desperate question in their depths.
"I don't know how she broke the parental bond herself, severed that intrinsic connection. Maybe Carlisle can offer some… biological explanation for that," Edward said, his words stumbling, clearly attempting to deflect the weight of the situation. "Nor do I understand why, Bella. I truly don't. But it happened, and… I cannot seem to change her mind."
"Oh, please," Mom scoffed, her voice going tight and sharp, like the edge of ice. "We both know that it was your fault, Edward, that Phoebe… disowned herself from the two of you. Stop playing the injured party in all of this."
"Hang on, Edward. What does she mean?" Bella asked, her gaze snapping back to Edward, the devastation replaced by a flicker of something sharp and accusatory.
"Well, let me tell you, Bella," Mom began, shooting an annoyed, pointed glance at her brother. "Both Phoebe and Renesmee were aware of Edward's… attitude while you were carrying them. Renesmee, with her more… forgiving nature, seemed to process it differently. But Phoebe… Phoebe couldn't, especially when he all but shoved her into my arms the moment she was born, then had the audacity to call her a thing, and finally, in his panic, blamed her for your potential death during your transformation."
"What…Edward! How could you?!" Bella exclaimed, her voice cracking with a profound sadness and a dawning horror.
"I am sorry, Bella," Edward murmured, his gaze still fixed on the floor, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "But… you need to understand… I couldn't lose you. The thought… it was unbearable." A shudder ran through Edward. His scent turned sour, like old, burnt things. He flinched from Bella's wide, red eyes, and his own face crumpled, like he was in great pain. He longed to snatch back his callous words, to somehow mend the fractured connection with his other daughter, but the past now loomed between them like an insurmountable wall.
"Couldn't lose me?" Bella asked, her voice trembling, barely a whisper.
"You are my world, Bella." He finally looked up, his golden-now-nearly-black eyes pleading for understanding. "Furthermore… your heart stopped beating just as Phoebe was born…"
Mom snorted softly, a sound of utter disbelief. "And you blamed a newborn for that?"
"…her birth… it slowed down the beginning of your change, the very process that could have saved you… And I don't think… I couldn't have forgiven her if you had died." The weight of his raw confession hung heavy in the air, shocking and undeniably painful.
"Oh my god, Edward!" Bella gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and dawning comprehension.
Mom's golden eyes narrowed further at her brother, her disapproval radiating through the room.
"She is just a harmless baby, Edward! We discussed this, remember? When I was still pregnant with them! You cannot blame an innocent baby for what would have happened to me. And now… because of your actions… I've lost a child," Bella said, her voice breaking, each word a struggle, tears making her eyes too bright, though none fell. "Where is she? Why didn't I even see her when I saw Renesmee?"
"I am so, so sorry, Bella," Edward murmured again, his own features tight with distress as he looked at Bella, whose face seemed frozen in anguish. "I didn't think… I just reacted… Phoebe is outside with Leah, Jacob, Renesmee, and Alice. As for why you didn't see her… You were hyper-focused, understandably so, on Renesmee. You wouldn't have registered her presence, not visually or even by scent, in your newborn state."
"I want to meet her… I need to see her, Edward," Bella insisted, her chin lifting, her red eyes fixed on him with a new, sharp light. "I need to see for myself if she truly did sever those parental bonds between us… Maybe… maybe I can change her mind."
Mom's fist clenched almost imperceptibly at her side, her gaze flickered towards Dad for a fleeting, silent plea for support and understanding in the face of Bella's unwavering resolve.
Yet, Mom's happy flower scent wilted a little when Bella spoke like that. Bella's words felt like she was trying to pull something away from Mom, something that was mine and Mom's. Mom suddenly turned to the window, her eyes locked on the view beyond. She saw Leah anxiously walking along the riverbank, pausing every few steps to look back at the house, her arms holding me tightly against her chest.
"I will call for Leah to bring her in," Mom murmured, her voice strained, and a shiver ran through me in response. It was clear that Bella and Edward's dismissal of her bond with me had struck a deep chord. A fresh wave of protective anger surged through me. No! I would not, could not, ever choose Bella and Edward as my parents. Rosalie and Emmett were my family, my anchors. Hearing the raw hurt in Mom's voice was like a physical blow.
The sudden sound of movement on the front porch broke through Bella's turbulent thoughts and burgeoning expectations. At that exact moment, Grandpa descended the stairs, his hands filled with an odd assortment of objects – a well-worn measuring tape, a small, precise scale. Uncle Jasper, ever vigilant, darted silently to Bella's side… just in case another surge of newborn temper threatened to erupt.
"It must be six," Edward said, his voice flat, the sound heavy like a sigh put into words, knowing full well that Mom wouldn't need to summon Leah now. Since our births, this peculiar ritual of measuring Renesmee and me by Grandpa had become a near-constant occurrence, repeating approximately four times a day.
"So?" Bella asked, her brow still furrowed in confusion, her gaze automatically locking onto Alice, Jacob, and Renesmee as they appeared in the doorway. As Bella's gaze locked on Renesmee, a powerful warmth bloomed from her, a scent like sunshine after rain, making my own chest feel strangely light. It was like the feeling of Dad's strong arms, or Mom's song. Bella's eyes were drinking in every minute detail of Renesmee's seemingly flawless features.
Leah and I walked into the room just behind them, her body subtly shielding me from Bella's immediate view. Bella's crimson eyes flickered almost imperceptibly towards the small bundle (me) in Leah's arms before snapping back to Renesmee.
Aunt Alice's gaze darted warily between Mom and Bella, a silent assessment of the simmering tension. Jacob looked troubled, his jaw tight, and Renesmee, radiating an almost comical impatience, tapped her small foot insistently against Alice's hip.
The daily measuring, while undoubtedly fascinating due to the rapid changes, was interrupting her exploration of this new, intriguing version of her mother.
"Time to measure Ness–er, Renesmee, and Phoebe," Grandpa said, his tone gentle, offering a quiet explanation.
"Oh. You do this… every day?" Bella asked, her confusion evident.
"Four times a day, actually," Carlisle corrected absently, his attention already focused on the measuring tape as he motioned for us to move toward the plush couch.
Renesmee let out a dramatic sigh, a sound far too theatrical for a child her age, while a restless, prickly feeling came over me. Again this. Always this…I understood the necessity, the rapid, almost unnatural growth, but still, four times a day felt like an exorbitant amount.
"Four times? Every day? Why?" Bella asked, her perplexity deepening.
"They are still growing- quickly at that," Edward murmured to Bella, his voice quiet and strained, his gaze fixed on me for a fleeting moment before returning to his mate.
He squeezed Bella's hand reassuringly, his other arm wrapped securely around her waist, almost as if he physically needed the support. Bella's gaze remained stubbornly fixed on Renesmee, even with my small presence just a few feet away.
The subtle difference in Renesmee from the child she had met only an hour ago was almost imperceptible, a shift that only vampire senses could truly detect. Her body was infinitesimally longer, a hair's breadth slimmer. The roundness of her face had softened, becoming just a fraction more oval. Even the delicate ringlets framing her face seemed to hang a sixteenth of an inch lower. Renesmee stretched obligingly as Grandpa swiftly and efficiently measured her length and head circumference, his movements precise and practiced. Bella watched, her brow slightly furrowed, her crimson eyes narrowed as if trying to piece together a difficult puzzle.
Mom gently took me from Leah's protective embrace and held me out for Grandpa. The familiar cool touch of the measuring tape followed. As Grandpa's cool fingers brushed my skin, my gaze remained fixed on Bella, a silent, intense observation of this new, intriguing presence in our lives. Her scent was sharp, overwhelming, but beneath it was something… familiar? Like a half-remembered echo from before, a reminder of what could have been if I hadn't chosen Rosalie as my mom. I was growing rapidly too, a tiny, accelerated mirror image of Mom. When the brief measuring was complete, I instinctively snuggled into her comforting hold, seeking the familiar scent of roses and something uniquely hers.
"What do we do?" Bella whispered, her eyes wide and fixed on Renesmee, her hand coming up to her mouth. The usual frantic energy that always seemed to hum beneath the surface of the adults had shifted, morphing into something heavier, more anxious. A palpable tension now permeated the air, a subtle shift in their collective emotional landscape that even I, in my limited understanding, could sense. It felt… sticky, like trying to move through thick, viscous honey.
"I don't know," Edward murmured, and the air around him felt like a tangled knot of cold threads – a sharp, biting worry-scent, a heavy, drooping sad-scent, and a jumpy, not-knowing feeling.
"It's slowing," Jacob muttered tensely through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed on Grandpa.
"We'll need several more days of measurements to accurately track the trend, Jacob.
"I can't make any promises," Grandpa said, his voice calm but firm.
"Yesterday, they grew two inches. Today it's less, doc," Leah chimed in, her usual sardonic tone replaced by a thick layer of worry.
"Yes, by nearly a thirty-second of an inch, if my measurements are perfectly accurate," Grandpa said quietly as he carefully collected the measuring tape and scale.
"You have to be right, Doc," Jacob said, his words fast and sharp, his wolf-scent spiking with something wild and scared. "Every fraction counts."
"You know I'll do my best, Jacob," Grandpa assured the worried parents and imprints, his gaze conveying his deep concern.
Dad sighed, his usual easy-going demeanor completely absent, replaced by a grim, worried expression. "That's all we can ask for, I guess."
I squirmed restlessly in Mom's arms; the sudden influx of unfamiliar scents and heightened emotions overwhelmed my still-developing senses. My gaze flickered towards Bella, a strange, fleeting wish that I possessed my sister's unique ability to communicate through touch. As the thought crossed my mind, a faint, almost imperceptible tingle ran through my small body, and an instinctive need, a silent plea for comfort and protection, projected itself towards my mother.
"Oh… my sweet little girl." Mom looked down at me, startled at first by the unexpected sensation, before a deep, worried sigh escaped her lips. She cradled me tighter against her chest, her brow furrowed in intense concentration, as if trying to decipher a faint whisper in her mind. A feeling of… constriction? Unease? Fear. Definitely fear. Her golden eyes flickered between my small face and the concerned expressions of Dad and Leah, a flicker of dawning worry mirroring their own.
"What's wrong, Rosalie?" Dad asked, taking a step closer, his usual warm grin completely vanished, replaced by a deep furrow in his brow. Leah, standing protectively beside him, shifted her weight, a low, almost imperceptible whine escaping her throat as her dark hazel eyes locked onto me in Mom's arms. Their eyes met, a silent, weighty exchange of shared worry passing between them.
The sudden, heavy concern radiating from my immediate family drew the attention of Bella and Edward. Bella's crimson eyes, still reflecting the earlier horror at her daughters' rapid growth, narrowed with a flicker of intense curiosity and a raw, undeniable want as she observed the sudden shift in focus toward Mom and my small form nestled in her arms.
Edward's brow furrowed, his emerald gaze darting between me and the increasingly worried expressions of Mom, Dad, and Leah, a shared anxiety tightening his features. A ripple of worried glances spread through the room as everyone else noticed my family's sudden stillness, the focused, concerned expressions on their faces, the unfiltered longing and now confusion in Bella's gaze, and Edward's tightening jaw.
*Phoebe?* Renesmee's clear, innocent thought echoed in my mind, sensing my slowly rising distress.
*I… I am scared, Ness,* I replied, a distressed whine escaping my lips, a sound barely audible to human ears. Mom's arms tightened around me instinctively, and a low, comforting hum vibrated in her chest. Dad took a subtle step closer to Mom and me, his stance shifting to one of quiet protectiveness. Beside him, Leah let out a soft, questioning whimper, her dark hazel eyes fixed on Bella, sensing a potential threat to her imprint's well-being.
*Why?* Renesmee wondered, her innocent curiosity tinged with a childlike confusion at my distress.
*Your Mom…. I… I am scared she would want me to choose between my mom and dad and… her. Or between them and you.* I tried to explain the jumbled thoughts of a newborn struggling to articulate complex emotions. *I felt her wanting before… wanting me like she wants you. I don't want her to make me choose. I cannot lose Mom and Dad. I cannot lose you.*
*Oh…* Renesmee thought, a wave of heartbroken empathy washing over me at the very idea that her mother would even consider such a thing. *I don't think she will do that, Phoebe.* Her mental reassurance, though simple, held a surprising amount of conviction.
A thoughtful frown creased Edward's forehead as his gaze flickered towards me, a flicker of understanding dawning in his dark eyes.
"Phoebe's scared of you, Bella," Edward murmured, his quiet words causing a fresh wave of unease to ripple through the rest of the family. Bella's startled eyes snapped up towards Edward, her confusion evident.
"What? Why?"
"She fears you'll make her choose." Mom's hold tightened even further, her golden eyes hardening slightly as she looked directly at Bella, a protective fire igniting within them.
"Choose what, Edward?" Bella asked, her brow furrowed, clearly not fully grasping the weight of her husband's words.
I instinctively burrowed my face into the crook of Mom's neck, the familiar, comforting scent of roses and Dad's faint wood smoke cologne clinging to her clothes, a small anchor against the rising tide of anxiety in the room. A soft, whimpering sound, a silent testament to the fear Edward had just voiced, escaped my lips. Mom's hold tightened infinitesimally, a silent reassurance that resonated deep within my small being. Her sharp and unwavering gaze locked onto Bella's confused crimson eyes.
"She's afraid, Bella," Mom said, her voice low, a deep rumble like a growl just beneath the surface, her rose-scent sharpening. "She's afraid that now that you're here, you'll try to… replace us. You'll expect her to suddenly transfer her love and loyalty to you, her biological mother. She chose us, Bella. She chose Emmett and me as her parents while still inside you. That bond is real, it's strong, and she's terrified of losing it." Mom's voice cracked slightly on the last word, and her rose scent trembled with a sharp fear, the same fear I felt.
Dad placed a large, comforting hand on Mom's shoulder, his presence a silent anchor of unwavering support. His warm, golden eyes met Bella's, conveying a quiet understanding and a gentle, unspoken plea for acceptance. The air in the room seemed to thicken, the initial shock giving way to a more somber and delicately balanced tension.
Even Renesmee, who had been shifting impatiently only moments before, stilled, her curious gaze now fixed on the unfolding, emotionally charged exchange between her mother and her aunt.
Renesmee, sensing the underlying distress radiating from her mother, sister, and aunt, tilted her head, her brow furrowed in innocent concern. Her large, intelligent eyes flickered between Bella and the fiercely protective way Mom was holding me, a silent, unasked question in their depths.
A soft, almost inaudible sound, a gentle murmur, escaped her lips, a child's instinctive response to the palpable tension in the room, a silent plea for understanding and peace. Bella's gaze remained locked on me for a long, seemingly unreadable moment, her crimson depths swirling with a complex mix of emotions my new senses struggled to fully decipher.
Her red eyes were wide, and her scent was a confusing mix – a sharp sting like a sudden hurt, an achy throb like a bruise, a tight feeling like when Mom held me a little too close because she was afraid, and then… something else, something softer, like a thread loosening slowly.
Then, slowly, almost reluctantly, her eyes flickered back to Rosalie, a faint furrow appearing between her brows. The raw possessiveness in Rosalie's voice, coupled with Emmett's quiet, supportive presence and even Renesmee's instinctive, worried reaction, seemed to be finally sinking in, creating ripples in the initial shock and disbelief.
A sigh, barely audible, escaped Bella's lips, and for the first time since her gaze had locked onto Renesmee, the intense, almost desperate longing in her eyes seemed to waver, replaced by a flicker of something akin to… contemplation? Perhaps even the first, tentative hint of understanding the intricate, unexpected bond she was witnessing. Bella's gaze softened infinitesimally as she finally spoke, her voice quiet and hesitant, almost fragile.
"So… she sees you as her… Mom?" The question was directed at Rosalie, but her eyes flickered down to me again, a hint of uncertainty and perhaps even a touch of genuine sadness lingering in their depths. Mom sighed softly, her gaze flickering down to me and then back to Bella, a hint of empathy softening her usually sharp features.
"Yes, Bella. And it's not about replacing you. It's… different. She bonded with Emmett and me in a way that you and Edward… didn't. It's just the way it happened. Phoebe… she is my daughter… just as much as Renesmee is yours." Her tone was gentle but firm, carefully navigating the delicate situation without causing further hurt, emphasizing the unique and irreversible nature of my bond.
Renesmee, sensing the slight softening of the tense atmosphere and the slow, almost imperceptible calming of my distress, squirmed in Alice's arms and then reached out a small, curious hand towards her aunt's cheek. After a brief hesitation, a soft sigh escaped Alice's lips, a silent acknowledgment of Renesmee's unspoken desire.
"What does Renesmee want?" Jacob demanded, his protective instincts for Bella still on high alert, his gaze fixed on my pixie-like aunt.
"Bella, of course," Alice said simply, her gaze softening as she turned towards Bella.
"How are you, Bella? Truly?" Bella took a slow, deliberate breath, meeting Alice's perceptive gaze directly.
"It's… a lot, Alice. More than I could have imagined. But… I'll be okay." Her response was honest, acknowledging the immense emotional weight of the situation without dwelling in self-pity. It suggested a nascent willingness to navigate this unexpected reality, albeit with a cautious, uncertain step forward. Jacob bit his lip, his initial tension easing slightly but not entirely dissipating.
He made no move to stop Alice as she gently offered Renesmee to Bella. Jasper and Edward hovered nearby, their protective instincts warring with their understanding of Renesmee's intentions. Renesmee reached eagerly for Bella as Bella, with a hesitant yet undeniably maternal instinct, reached back. A blindingly pure smile, radiating innocent affection, lit up Renesmee's face as her small, warm hand immediately pressed against Bella's cheek.
Bella gasped softly, her crimson eyes widening not in alarm but in stunned wonder. A cascade of images, feelings, and sensations flooded her mind – not words, but pure understanding channeled directly from her daughter. She saw flashes of Renesmee's awareness within the womb, the feeling of two presences, the confusing mix of Edward's fear and Rosalie's fierce longing. She felt Renesmee's innate, simple love for her sister, Phoebe, a bond formed before birth. And woven through it all was Renesmee's innocent perception of Phoebe's fear, her sister's quiet, unshakable connection to Rosalie and Emmett, a choice made not out of rejection for Bella, but out of an instinctive pull towards the ones who had offered safety and acceptance when Edward had not. The vision lasted only seconds, but the impact was profound.
Bella slowly lowered Renesmee, cradling her against her chest, her gaze distant for a moment as she processed the influx of raw, unfiltered truth. Then, her eyes, still wide with the aftershocks of the experience, lifted. They didn't land on Renesmee, held securely in her arms. Instead, they sought out the small bundle held just as tightly, just as protectively, in Rosalie's embrace.
The raw possessiveness was gone, replaced by something complex and uncertain. Hurt lingered, yes, but mingled now with a dawning, painful comprehension. She looked at me, truly looked, perhaps for the first time, not as a missing piece of her own story, but as a separate being with a story already unfolding, a story in which she was not the central character. The room felt quieter, the angry buzzing gone, but everyone was very, very still.