I don't own ANY of the characters, they're the product of a much more creative mind... :D


I would lie if I didn't admit I've dreamt of this but the truth is that I never considered it being a possibility.

She was gorgeous, so beautiful that was impossible for her to be real; surreal ivory skin, lovely blushed cheeks and pink lips, an angel like face that seemed painted by the hand of god himself and several thick bronze colored curls adorning her head. I still wondered how a dead still and unchanging body like mine could actually help in the creation of the adorable, perfect and changing being she was.

I looked at her sleeping form, now and then I'll take a glimpse into her dreams, colorful not really defined forms danced in her mind, now and then I could hear her giggles at the memory of a colorful fish and corals, the sound of Bella's voice also appeared and in some moments my own voice will make its way into her dreams. I bitted my lip in regret.

She dreamt of me, not only my voice but sometimes even my face, and she was happy of having me there. Me, even after the anger I've felt towards her, my vain attempts to make Bella understand that we had to kill the baby. Baby, I wish I had called her that in her early days, but I knew I hadn't, I knew I had wanted her dead and know I regretted that with all my being.

She begun waking up, she didn't cry like all the newborns, but again she was completely different from any baby I'd seen or heard of, she was unique. She stared at me and I could see Bella in her eyes, she smiled at me while stretching out her arms for me to hold her, I lifted her up carefully and she sighed tranquil, her heartbeat steady and her breathing harmonious. How could I ever think of killing her?, my daughter, the only proof that I could give live instead of always taking it. She looked at me concerned, her deep brown orbs fixed in me, questioning curious for the content in my mind. She didn't touch me to tell me what she needed, she knew at such a tender age she didn't have the need to, she knew I could hear her without she trying to tell me, I smiled at her.

"Don't worry, it's a grown up thing" she frowned and I chuckled "You are so like your mother" her expression softened as her eyes questioned me again, I sighed in worry and looked away from her, as if that could stop the curiosity and natural concerns of my child, her mind begun yelling at me to look at her and give her answers, repeatedly she showed me the image of Bella, my sweet Bella pale, covered in blood and sweat, my beautiful Bella dying over and over again in my baby's mind. I gave her a light kiss in the top of her head as I began to hum the lullaby I've composed to her as she kept questioning, not with words but blurry images that I'd already learn to understand

Where is she? Is she fine? Is she sick? Is it my fault?

I stopped humming and took a look at her face, the way her eyes seemed to water made me want to cry, to tear myself apart so I wouldn't ever have to see her suffering, I begun shushing her, kissing her repeatedly while walking through the room, rocking her back and forth

"Not your fault, don't think so… it was me" her eyes were still glassy, threatening to pour tears for the very first time in her short life and I decided that my guilt shouldn't be her burden, nothing I would do in my life will burden her "She's not ill" I said smiling her as honestly as I could muster, she looked at me skeptically. I wish Bella was here instead of being in that cold bed; she should be seeing the perfect being we've both created, so intelligent, so beautiful and lovely. She touched me to communicate with me for the first time in the night; maybe I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that I hadn't paid attention to her thoughts.

She showed me a conversation I've had had earlier with Carlisle, I had told him that I was worried that I hadn't done things right, that Bella may never wake up, she showed me a close caption of my face, my anguish, my desperation and uncertainty.

I looked at her, my little baby, my little Renesmee, worried about me, about the dad that had thought of her a monster at first. She was too good; luckily she had too much Bella in her

"It's a grown up thing" I repeated to her and I felt the weirdest sensation when I heard her groan "Mind your manners young lady" I said seriously to her, she scowled at my father tone. Then smiled at me to soften me again as her mind begun asking me to sing for her, I sighed, I was so going to spoil her.

Where is she?

"Sleeping" I finally said, and somehow, for the brief moments she'd been with her she believed me

When is she going to wake up?

"I don't know" I said honestly still trying to sound lighthearted "when she'd rested enough"

Why don't you kiss her?

"Kiss her?" I said puzzled, she looked at me smiling, showing me the story Rosalie had read her before taking her to bed 'Sleeping Beauty' and I laughed at the image of me as prince charming kissing Bella to wake her from her long sleep.

Kiss her

She wasn't asking anymore, she was demanding, she wanted Bella to be awake; she wanted to see her and be with her; as badly as I wanted.

"That's a great idea my dear, now you should sleep or you would be too tired to play with Jacob tomorrow" I tried to say the name without any resentment, I didn't want to upset her and she was so attached to the mongrel, she yawned and rubbed her eyes in the cutest way I've ever seen anybody do so. I sang to her until she fell asleep, and even after that I still sang to her, rocking her in my arms, contemplating her face and her dreams.

Finally I laid her in the bed against her will and immediately begun missing her warmth in my arms but I knew I had to be back by Bella's side, until she woke up; she had to see the product of her efforts, the perfect being she had carried in her womb at expenses of her mortal life. I chuckled again as the story of Sleeping beauty came to my child's mind with Bella and myself as the lead characters. I looked at her completely fascinated, my own little miracle.

Our own little miracle I thought as I run to the still form of the woman to whom I owed everything, my new life, my joy, my hopes, and even the fulfillment of a dream I've given up decades ago, being a parent. When I was by her side I kissed her lightly on the cheek begun caressing her face and humming her own lullaby.

"We love you" I smiled not knowing if she could hear me, I chuckled then and kissed her on the lips "We are waiting for you sleeping beauty".

A little story I've had in my mind for a while now. I want to thank you all for you reviews and alerts in other stories, really you're great

Well... review!, tell me what you think, it helps me a lot to improve my writing skills to have your opinions...

Thank you!