Four Related One-Shots
1 of 4: Meeting Mom ~ Edward remembered, too late, that his eyes were blood red these days. Her scream reminded him. 2 of 4: Family ~ His arms reached for her slim waist without any input from his brain. Her cool fingers were in his hair. This time it was her thought process that broke him out of it. He has to love me. He just HAS to! 3 of 4: A New Addition ~“I think you’ll be alright, though. You look pretty tough.” Edward said this flippantly, and then wondered at the wisdom in choosing that tone of voice. Through his pain, the huge, bedridden man SMILED at him. “Wait’ll I’m out of this bed, and I’ll show you tough.” 4 of 4: An Overdue Apology ~ "How did you know it was me?" Edward asked, opening the door with a smile. It was a familiar question, but he never got an answer. He never had, in all these years.
3. A New Addition
Rating 5/5 Word Count 932 Review this Chapter
They were a troubled family, to say the least. Carlisle and Esme were blindingly happy together, as long as neither of them was thinking about Edward or Rosalie. Carlisle felt guilty about both of them, for different reasons. Esme just worried. Constantly. If possible, her continual worry was even more grating to Edward than Rosalie’s emphatic shallowness. At some point, he was going to have to convince her that he was fine, and that her worry wasn’t necessary. He figured he’d get around to it as soon as he felt fine.
Rosalie wasn’t doing well, either. She’d got over Edward’s rejection of her in the same way Edward had got over Carlisle falling in love with Esme, which is to say that she could make a great show of being over it without actually feeling any better about the situation. They were family, though, and it had never occurred to Edward that life might ever change again, until tonight.
She’d run so far that the oafish man she was carrying had nearly bled to death enroute. The bear that featured in her thoughts had really taken him apart. Edward felt bad for him, but didn’t truly expect him to survive. He sat with him anyway, while Esme and Carlisle tried to calm Rosalie down. She was frantic – SO frantic that she’d have done more harm than good at this man’s bedside. And she was confused. Edward had perceived from her thoughts that she didn’t really know WHY she’d saved the hiker, though he thought he understood. There’d been an image in her mind of a smiling, chubby, curly haired infant when she ran through the house shrieking for Carlisle. He wasn’t even sure she was conscious of it, but he thought she must have saved the man as a tribute to that baby, whoever he was. Edward was starting to get tired of all the baby images floating around in everyone’s heads. Even Carlisle – so caught up in Esme’s continual pain over her dead child – occasionally pictured Richie.
“What’s your name?” Edward asked loudly, talking over the grunts of pain the man emitted. He didn’t expect an answer, knowing he could just glean it from his thoughts. He was really only asking to distract himself from even more morbid thoughts. But he was surprised when the man made an effort and quieted himself.
“Emmett.” The man’s voice was forced, but weak. He’d just lost too much blood. Edward was glad it wasn’t Rosalie sitting here, watching the man die.
“Save your strength, Emmett,” he said under his breath. The man’s eyes snapped open, and Edward realized, too late, that he’d just issued a challenge. And Emmett was not the sort of man who backed down from challenges. The pain in his eyes was disturbing, however, so Edward looked away.
He regretted that, too, after a moment. Emmett seemed to think that meant he’d won, in some odd way. Edward found himself annoyed.
“Where’s the girl?” Emmett asked after a moment, through gritted teeth. Edward turned his eyes back with a mild expression. Emmett’s thoughts on this point were vaguely entertaining. Through his pain, he found a way to worry about whether Rosalie belonged to Edward. In fact Edward almost grinned, hearing Emmett’s opinion of his ‘pretty-boy face.’
Suddenly, he found that he rather wanted the man to make it. He might even be able to like him. “My sister’s downstairs,” he whispered, leaning closer and flashing his teeth in a wicked smile. “She’s worried sick you aren’t going to make it.”
He kept his voice low. It wouldn’t do for Rose to come storming up the stairs, angry with him for frightening her mate. For whether Emmett realized it or not, he belonged to Rosalie now, as surely as Esme belonged to Carlisle. Edward forced himself not to cringe at the thought, and instead turned his attention back to the patient.
“I think you’ll be alright, though. You look pretty tough.” He said this flippantly, and then wondered at the wisdom in choosing that tone of voice. Through his pain, the huge, bedridden man SMILED at him.
“Wait’ll I’m out of this bed, and I’ll show you tough.” His voice was still weak, and his eyes fell shut again, but the playfulness of his nature came through anyway. Edward couldn’t help but grin. He knew, though Emmett couldn’t yet, that during his first year in this life, Emmett would be all but unstoppable.
“A word of advice, though,” Edward cautioned, leaning forward and turning serious again. Emmett didn’t answer. “Be gentle with her, or I’ll tear your arms off.” Again, the man’s eyes flew open, wider than before. He was trying to determine if Edward was still joking around. “I assure you, I’m dead serious.” This time, his tone bore out his intent. He didn’t smile.
Emmett didn’t respond, and Edward wondered if the threat had been too much. The man’s heart had been so erratic ever since he’d arrived that Edward hadn’t noticed it reacting to his threat. But Emmett’s thoughts weren’t centered around any bodily pain, aside from the constant fire of the transformation. He was scoffing at Edward’s warning internally. As if I could be anything but whatever she wanted me to be!
Edward allowed himself another smile. If he made it, this Emmett fellow would be just what Rosalie needed. He was glad.