Author's Note: This started out as sort of an experiment. However, the writing process was more fun that I ever expected. Edward is so complex and he over thinks everything in a state of crisis. So, after reading Breaking Dawn I began imagining what Edward was thinking during this moment in his state of complete frozenness. If you like it, please review, I really appreciate it!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Twilight...And I owe ColdPlay for having such perfect album titles! Also, at the end of each chapter I include the lyrics of one of the songs on the selected album!


Vampire Daddy

Part One: Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends

I watched Bella's receding back; hunched slightly and quivering, apprehensively. I absentmindedly turned on the sink taps; first cold water to wash away the sick then hot for preliminary disinfecting.

Bella's sudden illness had me deeply concerned. What could have brought this on? She'd hardly eaten anything but eggs; lately…I tried to recall the taste of eggs. Surely I would have been able to smell if they were rancid? It doesn't really make sense…I tapped the counter idly. Two graduate degrees in medicine began to shove their knowledge on me. But I couldn't think. Why hadn't Bella come back yet? Had she gotten sick again? Had it really been long enough to warrant my lithe lung toward the bathroom door?

I could hear Bella murmuring rhythmically behind the door. She was…counting? The rhythm restarted, yes definitely counting, fervently. Why? I composed myself and tapped the door, lightly. If I knocked any harder sawdust would probably fall, from what might be considered a sturdy door against anything but me. It was a nice door, but I wouldn't hesitate to destroy it if Bella needed me. It certainly wouldn't be as much fun as breaking the headboard, though.

Seconds passed and I heard the distinct sound of a box falling into the suitcase. Bella gave a quiet, but sharp intake of breath. I spoke attentively, "Are you well?" I heard Bella try to steady her breathing. "Did you get sick again?"

It seemed to take her forever to reach an answer, though it was probably less than a few seconds. Her voice sounded smothered, "Yes and no."

In times like these I wished deep breaths were calming. There was no way to escape the worry that bled through my tone, "Bella? Can I please come in?" If she said no I would probably break the door down.

Why would she say no, anyway? At this point what was so bad that I couldn't see? That I had not yet seen? Well…If she had gotten her period that would surely dampen our…fun. But she knew I could handle the smell of her blood, now and I'd never seen her sick during that time.

I was getting impatient, though it was ridiculous since even I hardly had time to take a breath, anticipating her answer.

Bella's response was cautious, "O…Kay?"

I quickly wiped the smug look off my face. She must have realized that I probably would have come in regardless—if her excuse for keeping me out was weak.

It took more effort than usual to delicately seize the knob and open the door. If I had thrown the door open, like any normal concerned husband, I could have easily ended up walking into the bathroom holding the door, clean off its hinges. And more importantly, something told me that Bella wouldn't exactly find that amusing, at this present moment.

I had known something wasn't right. It was clear now that something was really wrong. Bella was sitting cross-legged, on the floor by the suitcase. This wouldn't have bothered me if her eyes didn't look so glazed over and unfocused. Her mouth was set in a firm line, though it appeared to be intent on eventually voicing the shocking revelation that was behind all this.

Without any effort, I was on the floor beside her, my hand immediately on her forehead. The sound of her heart was loud in my finely-tuned ears; drumming its hypnotizing beat. But it didn't sound irregular, just exceptionally loud. Her head felt slightly clammy, but even that cooled almost instantly against my icy touch. "What's wrong?"

Some wishful part of my mind half-hoped she would jump up, look at my concern, laugh and then declare herself cured. Then we could pick up where we left off. But she didn't even look at me. Her whisper was cold and deadly, "How many days has it been since the wedding?"

Her tone let on that I should be deeply unsettled. Honestly, I had expected to be. However, I could not find a reason to be so—since our seventeen days as husband and wife had been nothing but the opposite.

I managed to keep the frustration out of my voice, "Seventeen." Her look didn't change one iota. She was hardly even blinking. Hearing people's thoughts for a century has spoiled me. Bella wasn't even attempting to explain herself and it was driving me mad! Again I barely managed to keep the frustration at bay. "Bella, what is it?"

Remaining completely indifferent Bella began counting again. Seriously? The slew of expletives that rushed through my thoughts was hardly comforting. When we got home I was going to compose a piece on counting. Bella and everyone else would probably think it was beautiful which would totally defeat its purpose; which was annoyance; irritating, grating, mind bogglingly annoyance. I wanted to shred something.

It doesn't make sense to be so easily impatient; especially in an existence where you have all the damned time in the entire damned world! But I have always been irrevocably impatient. Maybe if Bella wasn't the only person in this world whose thoughts eluded me I would be less so. But her thoughts—especially now, as she held up a finger admonishing me to wait—were the one thoughts I wanted to hear the most. She started over again…counting. What was she counting?

I stared at her finger, concentrating on its individual lines and curves. The skin on her finger was soft. It was pale, yet I could almost feel the moderate heat generating from the digit. I wished she'd stop the nonsense, maybe abandon all pretenses and touch me with that single warm finger. And then her whole hand. And then maybe she'd move closer and I could bend my head to her lips…

We didn't have to have sex. If she still didn't feel well we could just go back to the couch. I would hold her until she fell asleep in my arms. Maybe she would talk in her sleep again. It hadn't been that long since she'd stopped, but I missed it. It was the closest I ever got to being able to read her thoughts. This was getting absurd.

I gazed intently at her soft, supple skin. I could smell the sweet blood pulsing through it; sitting languidly in her capillaries. Venom flooded my mouth. I could feel my eyes harden. Bite her.

I didn't want to bite her finger because I wanted her blood. I wanted to bite it because I was being deprived of some crucial piece of information. Wait. I wanted to bite her, now? What was wrong with me? She wanted to go to Dartmouth; she wanted to prolong her possibly short-lived human life. She wanted to prolong it so she could enjoy whatever pleasure she got from having sex with me as a human. And I was ready to take that all away from her this minute? I was ready, after trying to stall for so long? I would rather Bella never became a vampire. But that argument was long past. It was just a matter of time, and I had just decided that time was now? HELL NO!

"Bella!" my whisper was urgent and critical. I had just considered biting her because she was being elusive. If she didn't give me answers I was just going to be persistent. She deserved that much. However, I was not going to let the thought of biting her—at this time—cross my mind again. "I'm losing my mind over here."

She respectfully managed to regain brain function, though I noticed she didn't try to speak. Instead she held up a little blue box…tampons?

"What? Are you trying to pass this illness off as PMS?" I don't think the exasperation in my voice was as apparent as I hoped. I hid my smirk, thinking how Jasper would get a kick out of this. He loved treating PMS; though he's not able to do it often since our diet is difficult for him at times. It definitely made some of the more mundane days of high school more interesting…

"No," Bella coughed out. "No. Edward. I'm trying to tell you that my period is five days late."

My mind raced. Another string of expletives made their way through my thoughts. WHAT?!

"I don't think I have food poisoning," Bella said trying to regain my attention.

Was this some kind of sick joke? Why would she tell me this? Why was I quickly getting over my former annoyance and irritation and why was it being replaced by utter hysteria?!

She began to mumble. I wanted it to sound incoherent, but my ears caught every word. "The dreams…sleeping so much…the crying…all that food. Oh. Oh. Oh."

No. No. No. I wanted to shake my head and shout. But I didn't. I wasn't going to move. If I moved something was going to be broken—I quickly scanned the bathroom, deciding the toilet and the sink would probably go first. The bathtub would prove slightly more difficult, but at least it would give me something to concentrate on. It would give me time. Not that time mattered. I was dead already. If I had a pulse, it would have stopped.

I knew it wasn't a dream. A hundred and eight years without dreams definitely centers one in an eternal reality. A reality I was a sure that had just crashed and burned. Maybe it was a nightmare…Maybe Bella and I had gotten killed by the Volturi when I had thought she was dead, what was it a year ago? Two? I couldn't remember…But Bella was in this death nightmare…So this was heaven? Did this mean I had a soul? Or was it purgatory? Seemed pretty hellish to me.

The bathroom suddenly seemed like an abyss of despair. What a strange place for hell to be located. In the bathroom of the house on Isle Esme. Someone should warn Carlisle. I just stared, letting the despair engulf me. No sense fighting it. It was over. It had ended a long time ago. Ha. It had begun—and ended—in biology. Ha. Ha. It had begun—and ended—at anaphase…

That's when Bella did the unthinkable. She touched her stomach. "Oh!" she squeaked, enthusiastically. I grimaced inwardly. She stood up faster than usual, moving out of my grasp. Had I still been holding her? I hadn't even noticed. I was momentarily impressed with myself for not hurting her, accidentally. I think I was trying to anchor myself. Well the anchor had moved to the mirror and was peering down her blue silk shorts. And I was going to float away. I give up.

I probably should have closed my eyes. Vampires didn't need to blink so why would I think of doing that? Now I did. But it was too late. I was frozen in place. Determined never to move again. Time would pass me by in this insignificant bathroom. Time hated me. I had escaped it. So now it had moved it's vendetta with me onto Bella. Excellent. First me, then a truck, then a tracker, then werewolves, then the Volturi, and then another psychotic vampire. We were so close too.

"Impossible," Bella whispered. I watched with horror as she twisted her torso back and forth. Venom rushed into my mouth as her fingers touched what I knew to be a distinctive difference. I was disgusted…with myself…as usual.

"Impossible," she whispered again.

I was too busy insulting myself. Nothing seemed good enough; though you filthy monster got close, but I'd been called that aloud so it didn't really tear at my insides like I was hoping. There was no way around it. Bella was pregnant. I had gotten her pregnant. Oh! Incubus. That had the effect I wanted. It was a nasty, dirty word. And I had done a nasty dirty thing.

Plus I was seventeen and much too young to be a father. Wait…No, yeah I was seventeen…in 1918. Well a hundred and eight was much too young to be a father too. I'd taken psychology courses. And after all I may be immortal but I'm still a man. So with that logic, even if I am a hundred and eight you could definitely say that my emotional age is seventeen. And when you add in the fact of being male. Well then in reality I'm like six. That's much too young to be a father.

While I tried to convince myself that this made sense, a sort of morbid fascination crept into my mind. I repressed it, focusing my thoughts on Bella. So maybe I was old enough to be a father. If I had lived, if I wasn't frozen at seventeen, I probably would be a father, a grandfather, even a great-grand father. Who knew I could father children?! And then the sick repressed thought burst through the jail my mind had created for it. Wonderful.

It was a good thing I was determined to stay so completely still, because suddenly, inexplicably I wanted to shout! To cheer! I wanted to call Jacob and throw this in his face! I was triumphant! I really was able to give Bella everything she wanted! Everything I thought I was depriving her of! Did she ever mention wanting kids? All she had ever mentioned was how she wanted to be a vampire. Wanting to be stuck at eighteen forever.

Now she was pregnant. At eighteen. And the despair seeped in again and I returned to a state of semi-normalness. No matter what, Bella was eighteen. We were young to get married…well she was. But to be pregnant at eighteen? Well for 1900 standards that was normal…But we weren't living in the 1900s…How fast did vampire children grow? Why was I even asking myself this?

My phone rang. I didn't care. I was too busy contemplating what I had done…again. I'd inadvertently murdered Bella and created a living nightmare. If there was a word for something worse than a monster I wanted to know that word now, because I was one…whatever it was.

I wondered if I starved myself, would it kill me more than I would end up killing innocent people. My phone kept ringing. If I ever unfroze, I was going to crush it.

A warm hand reached into my pocket, hopefully to silence the summoning. How could Bella stand being so close to me after what I'd done to her?!

She answered the phone…Alice must have called…But Bella wanted to speak to Carlisle…I didn't want to hear the conversation. It would be like reliving everything all over again.

I wished I had the mechanisms to vomit. Nausea was a foreign feeling, yet it successfully managed to embed itself in the pit of my mostly useless stomach. It felt delightful. The nausea harmonized so perfectly with the despair. If I wasn't wallowing in being a monster I might have regarded myself as feeling almost human. I mean I felt like every organ that was in that part of my body was going to make a group effort to heave their way up my esophagus at the same time. I could only hope this would be what killed me. And then Bella's voice caught my attention.

"…and…I swear something moved inside me just now."

I looked up. Why did she have to say that? Bella sighed with relief, and involuntarily I glanced at the small but pronounced bulge that extended her silk pajamas. A small, very sick, part of my mind was inexplicably thrilled. I wanted to hug Bella; to touch the hard bulge protruding from her abdomen. To relish in a sort of sick joy. We would be a family. I would have a family…Of my own. This vision festered, quickly. This very sick part of my mind wanted to be a father. I wanted this. My thoughts were suddenly dark. A tiny voice in the distance called out for me, "Daddy!" If it was possible for a vampire to cry…well I was. I couldn't let this be! There was no way this child would be normal. No way would this child be safe.

I hated myself. Well maybe I could convince Carlisle to help me…or hate me…both would be fine. I silently held out my hand for the phone. Maybe he'd yell at me! Or maybe he would just be incredibly disappointed in me. Oh I loved the idea of disappointment. No one could do disappointment better than Carlisle.

I felt my voice catch as I whispered into the phone, "Is it possible?" I already knew the answer. I just didn't want it to be true. And as far as anything was concerned at this moment, it wasn't true until Carlisle declared it so.

His voice was even. He wasn't going to yell at me. Or be disappointed in me. Damn.

"Yes...I don't know why I didn't consider it a possibility before you two...Well I need to do some research." His tone changed, suddenly. Maybe I would get yelled at! There was a stern, serious, earnestness about his voice now, "Edward! You did nothing wrong…but there is potential danger, from this…um…child."

Oh, so he was going to console me. Carlisle's attempt to rid me of my shame was worse than I'd thought. If anything his easy sense of calm and compassion only intensified how culpable I was. Was this part of my punishment too? I didn't deserve to continue to exist. Not only did my father-figure openly oppose the Volturi's way of life, now he was going to break the law too! Carlisle was going to allow me to continue to exist…After what I'd done? Truly, nothing made sense anymore.

I knew the worst was coming. Since there were no longer any other options I wasn't going to sit and wallow in my despair anymore. I also wasn't going to have Bella more than several inches from me. I pulled her close, afraid to ask Carlisle my next question. "And Bella?"

"We'll take care of everything as soon as you get home. But Edward, you need to get home immediately. I'm not exactly sure how much time we have, but if Bella is already feeling the…um…child move, well there's really no time to waste. I'll see you soon! Get on a flight, Edward."

I held my breath. Carlisle must have sensed I needed more direction that usual. But he was going to take care of this. We weren't going to let this thing kill Bella and then ravage Forks. It would go away. Everything would go back to normal. No more problems. The End. I was able to answer Carlisle less stiffly but still cold, "Yes. Yes, I will."

I immediately hung up with Carlisle and dialed the airport. Bella was staring at me expectantly. She seemed a bit frustrated and sad she had to ask, "What did Carlisle say?"

"He thinks you're pregnant," I finished the statement in my head with, not for long.

Maybe I could be more than the horror film monster I considered myself to be. Maybe I was the hero. I would save the day and Bella. I could only hope she would let me. Naturally, she already seemed rather, attached. This was our child. Partially me. She would want this. I could tell she hoped I wanted this too. This was a chance Bella wasn't going to pass up. A chance that had killed Esme. A chance that Rosalie had lost. They would live vicariously through Bella. Was there anyone really on my side? Could I make Emmett see the justice in killing me? Jasper, maybe? Alice...might. Alice loved Bella too. She was the best chance I had…But she probably already saw me asking her to kill me. She would talk to Carlisle. I was doomed…

I waited edgily for someone to answer the phone. How many rings had there been already? One. The situation was getting direr the more I thought about it. This was my fault.

Bella would just have to move aside as the heroine for a moment. My heroine, ha! No! I wouldn't let her suck me into her romanticized ideas about our family. Ideas that hadn't come into her head until she'd felt something move inside her.

I had to stop this. This was one thing I could not compromise on. If it was kids she wanted she could have them. As many as she wanted. Just not this child. The worst one. Mine. She could have kids or become a vampire or both. Whatever she wanted! Whenever she wanted!

The tiny voice—that remained from that sick sense of wanting this—tried to call me again, plead with me. At that exact moment an authentic Portuguese voice picked up on the other end. That did it! Before Bella I had almost accepted the fact that love was not a luxury I would get in this life. I had, however, accepted the fact that I would never be a father. Even if by some miracle this worked out the way Bella wanted—she had the baby and lived—the one thing I could never accept was a monster calling me daddy!

If you love me
Won't you let me know?