Saving Grace

I could clearly recall a time when life hadn't been measured the way it was now. A time when clocks chimed the hours and minutes away from the mantel in the dining room instead of with doses of foul smelling medications and rounds of doctors coming and going . Turning over in the soft downy blankets of my bed and feeling the warm body of my husband was a far more glorious way to greet the dawn than this……this dank, stagnant smelling place. A place of pain and suffering, a place that was synonymous with an endless existence away from the man I had pledged my life to.

There was so little that I had left. My love was gone. This sickness had stolen him away from me. Never again would I get to be held in his arms, to be spoken to in whispered words of love as we held one another fiercely claiming one another's bodies in desire. He was gone…forever gone. How had this happened? What had we done to bring this upon our family?

And as if fate hadn't been cruel enough by stealing my husband from me, by allowing death to sink its putrid claws into my once thriving body, it now lurked over my son, my Edward. Tears made their way out from the corners of my eyes as I thought about my son. He lay in the bed next to mine, sleeping fitfully as fevers wracked his young body. He was on the verge of being a man, leaving his youth and innocence behind to join the war to fight for his country.

Now that chance would never come. Never would he be able to stand up for his country, to defend those who weren't able to do so. Never would he return home to me, to show me how he'd grown and matured. Never would he find a woman to claim his heart, to be his other half the way I had been to his father. And never would he know the joy of becoming a father, seeing his children grow as he proudly watched over them. All of this had been robbed from him, and he wasn't even able to understand everything he'd lost.

The last few days had been the worst as my body had been wracked with pain. Edward had had more strength than, humming to me, to try to sooth the pain away. He tried to do so much, pouring me water, doing small, inconspicuous things to distract me from my torment. Things had worsened though, and now Edward lay next to me, blinded by his own suffering, barely able to move as his body trembled with fatigue.

With nothing to distract me from the pain, I had taken to trying to escape my body. Trying to find a release from the torture that was burning through every nerve of my being. I was intent on setting my mind free to explore as much of the world around me as I could until a time would come when even that escape would not be possible.

It was on exploration like this on which I noticed something I found peculiar. I had been gazing around the room watching the doctors as they hurriedly performed their tasks, rushing in and out as fast as they could. Holding their masks firmly in place to keep themselves from being exposed from the influenza, not that I blamed them for doing so, but it made me feel dirty, like a pariah, which I guess I basically now was. The light outside was dimming, and nurses were turning on lanterns, to let their soft glow seep over the patients of the ward, many of whom were too far gone to notice the ending of another day. The doctors who had worked in this wing through the day were leaving, surrendering their hopeless patients to the doctor who would be in charge throughout the night shift.

I glanced across the room, noticing that the night doctor had come into the ward. Unlike the other doctors, he did not hesitate to sit with the influenza patients as the other doctors did. He sat on their beds, conversing with them about life's frivolities, weather, and other things that would soon be of no consequence to any of us. We were all going to die here. Death favored none of the qualities that we endeavored for in life: Wealth, beauty, youth…love, it was all meaningless now. I watched the doctor moved gracefully from bedside to bedside, gently holding a hand in reassurance here, tucking in a blanket there. What was so different about this man that he felt comfortable around such overwhelming, flagrant sickness? He even chose not to don the white mask that the other doctors held tightly to their face as they sped through their rounds, why was that?

As I watched the blonde haired doctor make his way around the room, I studied him at leisure. From my place on my bed I could see the strength that he carried in his bearing, he was young, and yet his face spoke of wisdom and experience, of knowledge and understanding. I thought of my son Edward, on the very brink of manhood. A shining example of everything his father and I had tried to instill in him, integrity, honesty, politeness, kindness….. He now lay waiting for death to take him as it had taken my loving husband, as it was working its way through my body to take me, and it would surely claim him as well.

Why were we being forsaken? We had been loving, and generous to those less fortunate. Why did Edward deserve to have his life stolen from him before it had truly even begun? I felt tears begin to form in the corners of my eyes, and to seep from beneath my lashes. I tried to raise my hand to wipe them away, fighting helplessly against the useless weight that used to be a helpful limb. As I struggled to perform what once had been an everyday action that one could take for granted, I suddenly found myself staring up at an intense pair of golden eyes. The eyes swelled with sympathy, but I suddenly found myself wondering why they were sad. The intense gold color, flecked with deep amber specks, was so powerful that I had trouble focusing on anything else. It was only when I heard a rich, musical voice flow from his lips that my attention returned to my current dismal state, letting me refocus of the dank surrounding of the poorly lit influenza ward.

"Here, allow me to help you." The musical voice murmured as the young doctor raised a tissue to my face, wiping the wayward tears from my eyes. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am going to be your doctor tonight. My name is Carlisle Cullen."

Such an old name. I thought to myself as I studied him. He hardly looked old enough to be a doctor at all. I pressed my body to respond to his words, and it was only with the greatest of efforts that my lips parted, issuing the slightest sound.

"Eliz…Eliz…abeth." I mumbled. The doctor leaned over and plucked my chart out of its holder at the end of my bed. "Elizabeth Masen. Is that correct?" He asked, an eyebrow raised in speculation, almost as if he questioned the validity of the paperwork. I nodded slightly. Another tear escaped from the corner of my eye, and the doctor looked over my face. "Are you in pain, Mrs. Masen?" He asked, his voice full of genuine concern. I moved my head slightly from side to side, indicating that pain was not my concern. My eyes darted over to glance at Edward as he shifted slightly in his sleep.

The doctor followed my glance and his eyes studied my Edward for a moment before turning back to me. "Your son?" He said softly. I nodded, feeling more traitorous tears rush to follow the last. Doctor Cullen smiled at me, his eyes taking on a tinge of sadness. "Such a handsome boy." He said softly, glancing at my son.

The young doctor looked at my chart once again, his eyes flicking back and forth across the page, moving with phenomenal speed. I blinked my eyes to clear away my tears, as it was making the young man's eyes appear as little more than a blur.

When my eyes opened once more he was looking at me intently once more. I watched him carefully, not wanting my eyes to miss a now rare moment of human interaction. "I am sorry about your husband Mrs. Mason, I know how devastating it can be to lose someone you love. His eyes spoke nothing but truth, and I wondered who this man had lost that had cast such a sadness in his golden eyes.

I must have had more control of my face than the other parts of my body for he seemed to see the questions I was thinking in my features. He responded to the words I was unable to voice. "I lost my whole family, years ago…my father…my sister. This following the death of my mother, when I was but a youngster. I have no family…. left." He finished sympathetically.

Such loss he had endured, and at such a young age. Yet here he was, a kindly young man, a doctor using his skills to help those who were ill and dying. Yet I felt that his family would have been proud of him, being so strong that he had come through so much only to remain a confident and caring man. My Edward however would not live on to remember his loss. He would not be able to remember his grief as he went on with his life, he would merely be a short lived memory, with no one left to remind the world on his passing, and the loss it would suffer for his early departure.

I felt the tears as they pushed against my weary eye lids once more, seeking escape from my sadness. The doctor reached over, and poured a glass of water from the pitcher on my bed side table. "Here, allow me to help you." He murmured holding a glass out to me with one hand. He reached gently behind my head with his other hand, supporting my neck with a strong arm, lifting me so I could swallow a precious few sips of the water as he held it to my lips, until even that was too trying for me.

Dr. Cullen eased me back onto the surface of my bed, as he gently removed his hand from the back of my head it passed by my neck. I couldn't help notice a small relief from the feverish heat that had been consuming me over the last few days. My lips parted allowing a sigh of relief to escape. As he settled me against my pillows Dr. Cullen looked at me with a questioning glance. But I couldn't verbalize the fact that I had felt his frozen touch against my fevered skin, though it struck me as extremely odd that his hands should be so cold, inside. Only one word managed to slip past the parched desert, that had once been my lips.."cold…." Too exhausted to keep my eyes open any longer they closed giving in to desperately needed sleep, but not before I saw the golden eyes of the young Doctor widen in alarm.

Slumber,…… a brief escape from the physical realm. Where pain fades into a dull throbbing pulse, while exhaustion pulls itself over you like a thick down comforter. If I could stay this way for eternity, would I? Would I wish to escape the hurt? The racking, wheezing, burning pain that accompanied such a slow death? No, I wouldn't. While I would love to leave behind the hurt, the travesty that had become my life, I couldn't leave my son. Even having one last moment with him was worth the suffering that I would endure.

Dreams are a blessing, and in some way a curse. I couldn't escape from them. I found myself in blissful happiness sitting on a beachfront with my young son playing in the sand while my love sat beside me, tenderly holding my hand in his. He whispered sweet nothings in my ear, telling me that he loved me so, as he leaned his brow against my heated cheek. But suddenly they were gone again, and I was forced back into reality once more.

I tried to open my eyes, but they didn't wish to cooperate. I knew that the wonderful moment that I had just experienced had been nothing more than a figment of my hearts greatest desire. But it was not real, real was the moans of those around me, the sounds of torment and sufferring. My lashes felt as heavy as lead as I fought to control them, and to force them upward. Finally succeeding, I roamed the room with my eyes, first and foremost searching for the last comfort that I had left in this world.

I saw him, and for a moment I was soothed by the peaceful grace that was my child at rest. That calm second of tranquility lasted only a moment though as I saw his face contort in pain, pain that as a mother, I wished to take away from him. He was my son, my one and only child. I had never had another, nor had I wished for more. He held my heart.

I was failing him, unable to kiss his pain away, to tickle him until there were only smiles and happiness left. What could I do to help him? I watched as he settled once more, though his brow furrowed in discomfort, something it always did when he was unsettled. Were he able, I'm sure his agile fingers would have moved to the bridge of his nose to rest there in an attempt to calm himself. He was just like his father that way.

I spent most of the day that way, watching my Edward, as I drifted in and out, moving further and further away from myself as I sank into this illness. I knew I was losing, that we all were. I pleaded and prayed that somehow I could keep my son from suffering the same end as his father, the end that was coming for me in such a short time. I felt helpless.

I continued to drift in and out of sleep and pain, my mind playing tricks on me, I dreamt of home, of the wind in my hair, and only woke fully again when the ward was dark once more. I noticed right away when I was finally able to open my eyes, that the room was quieter, emptier than the night before, and the thought terrified me until I was sure that Edward was still beside me.

I could see sweat on his brow, and see him tangled in his sheets. This caused the mother in me to move to action. I could see no one to help him, so I fought with my body , trying to force myself upwards. I grasped the railing of my bed in my weak hands and managed to roll myself over onto my side. I would have given up there if at that moment Edward hadn't of whimpered in pain. That sound gave me strength that I hadn't felt in weeks, and almost as if by magic, I was standing by his beside.

I leaned over him, stroking his cheek, soothing his brow, trying to hum a lullaby to comfort him, but the sound would not pour from my mouth as it once had, only broken notes of discord broke away from my throat. But I supposed something was more reassuring than nothing. I tried to move myself so I could straighten his sheets, but a musical voice made me turn in surprise."Mrs. Masen…?"

There was the young doctor from the day before, staring at me with his wise golden eyes. I had never seen anyone with golden eyes before, anyone…anywhere. He raised his hand from where he stood across the room, as if to caution me to be careful. But that single distraction from my task, was all that it took to send the moment of energy fleeting away, and I saw the world tilt sideways as I plummeted towards the floor. I wasn't even able to put my hands out to stop myself as I sped downwards.

The floor rushed towards me with alarming speed, and just before I would have crashed into the dull tiles, I found myself suspended, frozen a mere breadth away from the ground. The next moment my world spun crazily with a rush of movement, and I found myself back on my bed once again, this time with the young doctor at my bedside.

"Mrs. Masen, what were you trying to do, you could have hurt yourself. You need to be more careful in the future." He chastised. He was mocking me! What future did I have to speak of? My anger lent power to my worn out vocal chords and I spat out the words. "I… have… no …..future!" with a much force as possible. I turned my face away from the doctor, angry with him for his mockery. I forced myself to focus on the bars of my bed instead, where his hands firmly gripped the metal railing.

The doctor sighed, and eased up his tense grip, but as he pulled his hand away I notice that his fingers had left impressions upon the solid metal bars. My eyes remained fixated on the spot, and my mouth fell open in confusion. Suddenly my mind whirled away, almost as if my dreams had taken over my mind while I was still awake. I recalled his icy touch, his strange eyes, and odd, lilting voice. He had saved me by moving with unearthly speed, and just now he had damaged steel bars merely with his touch. What was he?

He moved into my line of vision, and I watched as his eyes followed my gaze, seeing the marks on the railing. "The metal must be weak, I will have to have someone come to fix your bed for you Mrs. Masen. Now you really need to stay in your bed, your body needs rest now, more than anything else." He said speaking quickly, avoiding my gaze. He knew that I knew he was different.

"What are you?" I whispered in a voice so soft that I knew he couldn't have heard it, so I tried to muster up the will to ask once more. The doctor however answered me before I could repeat my question. "I am not sure what you mean Mrs. Perhaps you are feverish, can I get you a drink, or some medication, are you in pain from your fall?" He queried

He had heard me, impossible, but now he was refusing to answer. I spoke again, this time knowing he would hear my words, no matter how whispered they were. "What are you? This isn't right." I said gasping so I could continue. The doctor replied before I could go on. "I am your doctor, and I am here to help you however I can." He responded gently.

"Your more….. than that" I gasped silently, glancing around the room in a slight panic. This man, who was so kind, was not normal, he was something inhuman. H leaned close to me, his golden eye dark with worry. "Elizabeth, I can't answer your questions, but I can help you. What would you like me to do to help you?" He asked awkwardly.

I looked at him, and saw the sincerity in his question. He had been nothing but kind to me, caring to a fault with those who were dying around me. What would I like him to do for me…. There was only one thing I wanted. I darted my eyes to look at him, and I held his gaze with my own. I tried to lean forward, and seeing my intention, he moved closer to accommodate me.

He looked at me intently, waiting for me to speak. I ran the words through my mind, savoring them , knowing they would probably be my last as I felt the power seeping further and further away. And as many creatures do before death, I found a burst of power, and I seized his arm in my hand as fiercely as I could.

"I want you to save my son. I want you to save him as only you can. You have to do this for me. I know that you can save him." I fell back my energy gone, my light fading away as darkness slithered into my vision. The last thing I heard before I allowed myself to finally succumb to the battle raging inside me were the soft words of the doctor at my side.

"I… will…. save him. You have my word." And with that I let my soul escape to a place where my love awaited me, and where there would be not more pain. My son would be safe.