Because we all want to see baby Edward
Title: These Moments
Author: deadlyxchagrin
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Edward, Elizabeth
Table/Prompt: Gamma #15 Salvation
Word Count: 2,061
Summary: Five moments of Edward's life that he'll never remember. That poor vampire =[
Author's Notes: I own nothing. =[
These Moments
The following are snippets of Edward Anthony Mason's [Jr.] life.
They include five important events that he'll never know about, or otherwise forgotten.
The human mind, is, after all, a sieve.
Elizabeth Mason screamed in agony, clutching her sheets so hard she imagined they'd have ripped by now. There was no other pain like this, and therefore no words could ever describe the complete and utter suffering she was experiencing at the moment. Who's idea was this anyway?
"Push, Mrs. Mason," a doctor yelled above her cries, and she grunted, pushing harder.
"Damn," she swore, and it was not the first or last time a word of profanity would slip out of her mouth.
"Very good, you're almost done. It's almost over," the doctor cooed, and lucky for him he was right. It was soon over.
"Thank God," Elizabeth sighed, as the pain faded to a soreness. It was still fairy uncomfortable, but at leas the worse was over. She glanced over at her husband, Edward Mason [Sr.], and smiled. His face was pale, and contorted in a look of mild disgust and fear.
"Mrs. Mason, would you like to hold your son?" a nurse asked, wrapping a tiny baby in cloth.
"It's a boy!" she exclaimed, face lighting up. Her husband smiled as well, slowly walking over to her bedside as the baby was placed in her arms.
"Oh, Edward, just look at him!"
"I know, dear, he's going to be quite the boy," Edward said, gazing lovingly at his newborn son. Elizabeth took a good look as well, noticing the bronze hair peeking out of his scalp. She ran a hand through the fuzz, amazed at how soft it was. The infant was whining, just as infants should, but this did not put a damper on anybody's spirits.
"Shh, my baby. Everything's alright now," she whispered. The baby stopped crying, opening his eyes to reveal a gorgeous green.
"He looks just like you," her husband muttered.
"He does, doesn't he?," she paused, pondering for a moment. "Well it's only appropriate to name him Edward, then, don't you agree?"
"Well," the babies father grinned broadly, "of course."
"Edward Anthony-for my father-Mason."
"It's perfect."
"He's perfect. My perfect little Edward," she whispered in the newborn's ear. "You will grow up to be a beautiful man."
*************
Edward Mason was three when his little sister, Mary, was born. His mother, Elizabeth, had promised herself that she would never again go through the complete agony of labor, but seeing how wonderful her Edward had turned out so far led her to have another child, this time a girl.
Of course, Edward was not pleased with the new addition to the family. His father, Edward Sr. was always busy working, and now his mother was busy with the baby.
"Mama, play!" he'd wine, pulling on her apron.
"Not right now, sweetie, I'm feeding the baby," she answered him, feeding Mary a spoonful smashed peas.
"Please Mama!" he'd cry, begging for attention. Elizabeth would just shake her head, smiling as she ruffled the boy's curly hair.
"Later," she'd answer, and it was then that the small child knew his chances were over. Sometimes he'd start crying, but quickly learned a scolding followed that, so after a while he'd resort to going into the other room to pout.
One day, while Mary was napping and Edward Sr. was reading the paper Elizabeth found her son, playing by the fireplace. Mary was now one, becoming slightly easier to care for. However, it also meant that Edward was four and getting harder to entertain.
"Edward, would you like to go into town with me?" she asked her son, picking him up off the floor.
"Yes!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands with joy. He loved going into town; there were so many things to see there. Elizabeth laughed at his enthusiasm as she grabbed her purse and coat.
"Now, Edward, we're going to keep this outing a secret from your papa, understand?" she whispered in his ear. Of course, Edward Sr. would know of what would take place in the following hour, but she knew of how her son loved games like these.
"Yes, Mama," he cooed.
"Good. Now, I know I've been busy with your sister, so I've decided to buy you one gift-"
Elizabeth didn't finish her sentence, for Edward was wiggling out of her arms. She carefully set him down, and he persisted to grab her fingers and drag her towards tome, stumbling all the way there.
"I want this, Mama!" he exclaimed, pointing to a small figurine in the window. Elizabeth peered through the glass, examining what her son was pointing too. It was a small piano, one that would fit in her palm.
"Are you sure, Edward?" she asked, curious as to why a little boy would want something as elegant as a piano.
"Yes. It plays music too!" he exclaimed, almost jumping out of his shoes.
"Alright, Edward, you can have it."
For everyday after that Edward Mason played with his musical piano, pretending it was he making the keys move so smoothly and perfectly in order to make the pretty music.
**********
A few years had passed since the small piano was bought, and by now an actual piano sat in the living room of the Mason household. When Edward was seven he received only one Christmas present, and it also counted as a birthday present too. He didn't mind, though, and quickly jumped at the opportunity to learn to play the beautiful instrument.
The boy was now twelve, and a natural at playing. He'd spend many hours after his schoolwork running his fingers gracefully over the keys, while his little sister played with her dolls behind him.
"He sounds so wonderful," Elizabeth cooed to her husband. "If you gave him the chance I don't think he'd ever leave that bench."
"Yes, well, he'll have to learn there are more important things than the piano," Edward grumbled.
"Edward, he's just a boy," Elizabeth exclaimed.
"Not more long, Elizabeth. He will soon be a young man, with more important things to think about."
"I suppose you expect him to follow in your footsteps?" Elizabeth guessed.
"Of course. That was the plan from the beginning, was it not?"
"Yes, but what if he doesn't want to be a lawyer. He could be the world's next greatest composer!"
"Don't be ridiculous, dear, has he ever written a song before?"
"No," Elizabeth mumbled.
"You'll see. Once he gets the hang of it he'll be spending his time with the business world, not his fantasy music land."
Elizabeth sighed, gazing at her son. He always looked so happy playing piano, and when he was happy she was happy. Because of this, Elizabeth wasn't sure she could ever take this away from him. Her husband would not have a son who spent all his days at the piano bench, though. Being the leading heir, Edward Jr. had a lot on his shoulders. One day he'd have to live up to his father.
It was something Elizabeth dreaded, knowing he would never do so.
************
"Edward Anthony Mason!"
"What?" Edward demanded, grudgingly getting up from the piano and trudging to the kitchen where his father sat at the table, red in the face.
"What have I told you?" he asked, motioning for his son to sit down. Elizabeth Mason winced, grabbing her twelve year old daughter's hand.
"Come on sweetie," she whispered, bringing her in the living room. The fight could still be heard, though.
"You know what you have to do. You're fifteen now, reaching sixteen, and it's time you take some responsibility for this family!"
"I do! I watch Mary, help mom-"
"That's not what I mean and you know it!"
"Father-"
"No, Edward. You need to stop living in this fantasy world of yours, get bottom half off that piano bench, and start making a name for yourself!"
"I don't want to!" the younger of the Edward's yelled, getting up.
"Oh no you don't! Sit back down."
"Why should I?"
"Because I am your father! And I don’t think you understand what responsibility you have!"
"Really-"
"You're reaching the age of adult hood, son, and it's time you find yourself career-"
"You mean it's time I learn to be a lawyer," Edward interrupted.
"If that's the respectable career you choose to take, then I will be proud of you, but there are a number of other choices…"
"I want to play the piano," Edward stated.
"You know I can't let you do that. What young women would want to marry a man who spends his time making music rather than making her money?"
"So now I have to worry about marriage too?" Edward sighed, exasperated. "I don't love any of these girls I know!"
His father, grumbled, pointing a finger in his face.
"Yes. You're the eldest and only son. It's up to you to carry on the Mason name and honor," he ordered.
"And what if I don't?"
"Let's just say your music making days will be over."
There was no response to that.
****************
Elizabeth Mason, coughed, struggling to climb out of bed. Tears were welled up in her eyes, and half of her brain was overcome by nausea. She sniffled, staggering over the nearest bed. Spanish Influenza had hit her family, her daughter and husband dying within the first week. Now she was sick along with her last remaining family, her son, Edward.
"Edward," she croaked.
"Mother," he responded, but it sounded more like a mumble. She carefully laid down next to him, praying to whatever God there was out there that he would be saved. She didn't care how, as long as he was walking and breathing-alive.
As the night carried on she was faintly aware of a doctor coming in carrying her to her bed. He had picked her up with ease, and his hands felt so cold. It was pleasurable, though, compared to the high fever she was sure she was running. She had seen this doctor before; he was the one that was around most. She knew, just by looking into the amber of his eyes that he was devoted and desperate to save lives. It that, and something else, that set him apart from the other. It was he she chose to speak with.
She waited a week, just to make sure of her choice. By then the flu had gotten worse for her, and she was definitely not helping her chances. Every night she'd crawl over to Edward's bed, trying desperately to nurse him back to help. She didn't care if it was killing her slowly, as long as her son was allowed to live. Her own well being meant nothing unless by some off chance Edward was given the gift of recovery.
"Mrs. Mason, you must stay in your own bed. If you continue to nurse him you'll die," the doctor who had brought her to her bed the first night warned. He came him to check on her and her son often, and she quickly noticed, even in her sick state, that there was something magnificently different about this man. She knew that if anybody could safe her son it had to be him.
Sitting in her cot, Elizabeth could feel the fever getting worse. Her maternal instincts knew this was it; this was her only chance.
"Save him!" she tried yelling at the doctor. She didn't even know his name, but he was her last chance. Her only choice.
"I'll do everything in my power," he promised her, taking her hand. Elizabeth felt the cold, so much more cold than she'd ever known before. She clutched his hand, determination shining in her eyes.
"You must," she hissed, squeezing as hard as possible on his hand. She was not certain was compelled her to speak her next words, but there was nothing that could stop her now. She would never be happy until Edward was safe.
"You must do everything in your power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward."
She was uncertain of what this doctor could do that the others could not, but she was sure it was something, and she was sure that he would be saved. Because he had to. There was no other possibility.