A New Cullen Sister

Chapter 74

If Carlisle could trace back to the last moment that Amelia had really lived, it would be the night of the concert. That moment was forever ingrained in his memory - his youngest daughter, his dark-haired human princess, standing on the stage, bowing to a standing ovation. If his heart had been capable of any sort of movement, it would surely have swelled with pride. That evening had been wonderful, and one that he would treasure for centuries to come. If he shut his eyes, he could recall the sparkling perfection of her purple dress as it glittered under the concert hall spotlights, how she had paraded around the house in it before the concert, stating that she needed to 'wear it in' as though it were a pair of shoes. Blythe and Esme had smiled affectionately at her antics, while Emmett had to walk outside to hide his laughter.

He stood now, observing the ragged breathing of his daughter. She had fallen ill again, worse than he had ever seen her, her disease taking its final toll on her, Death preparing to claim her as his own. It pained him to witness her suffering, it pained all of them really. There should be a limit as to how much a person should be allowed to suffer, he had mused to himself as he kept a vigil by his daughter's bedside. The others were out hunting ahead of today. Alice had come to him with tears in her eyes the day before.

"Tomorrow. She will have a good day, but after nightfall..." She had trailed off into silence, the pain in her face speaking for itself. Edward's face had been an identical mask of horror, his eyes imploring Carlisle to do what he had to in order to save his little sister. Carlisle had gone straight to Amelia then, finding her sleeping on the couch with Jemima protectively sleeping next to her. Jemima had stirred and looked at him sleepily, then put her head back down and returned to sleep. Amelia had not stirred, not even when he had lifted her hand up and taken her pulse, not that he had needed to do so when he could hear her heart beating with perfect clarity from a mile away. He needed to touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin against his, the rush of blood, purely to remind himself that she was still here. She was his daughter, and a world without her was incomprehensible.

Kissing her forehead, he had left the house to hunt and make doubly sure that there was not even the slightest hint of thirst that irritated his throat. In spite of having created four other vampires, his concern of not being able to stop himself, of inadvertently draining Amelia lingered. Just like Edward had done with Bella, surgical grade steel syringes currently held his venom, waiting to be used as adjuncts to the main bite. Better safe than sorry. He had his doubts, could he do this to Amelia? Esme notwithstanding, he had not interacted with Edward, Rosalie and Emmett much, if at all, prior to changing them. Even his interaction with Esme a decade prior to her change had been fleeting, albeit memorable. Had he failed in his task in changing them, would he have felt their loss as much as the entire family would if he failed Amelia?

Carlisle glanced out the window as the late spring morning sunshine broke through the clouds. The others would be back soon. He turned his attention back to Amelia. She frowned slightly in her sleep, her breathing catching for a moment. She coughed in her sleep, violent and guttural, but not enough to wake her up. For that he was grateful, it had been weeks since she had enjoyed a peaceful night of rest. Had it really been two months since the concert? Her decline was not unexpected, but the family had hoped for more time.

At the end of April, Amelia had had her feeding tube removed. Both Carlisle and Dr Westsmythe had been hesitant to put Amelia under anaesthesia, but the tube would need to come out before her transformation and it needed to be done under general, rather than local, anaesthesia. Of course, Dr Westsmythe was unaware of the real reason why it needed to come out, and had assumed that it was due to the infection that Carlisle had insisted was present. It was only after the tube had been removed that Richard had realised that Carlisle was indeed right. The infection could have been treated with antibiotics, but had those failed, it could very well have killed her. There was a chance that the surgery itself could have killed her as well, but Alice had assured him that it would not.