Waking up as a kid again was weird.
Desmond—Adam—whatever the hell he was supposed to call himself now, couldn't shake the uneasy feeling crawling up his spine. His limbs felt small and weak, and every little thing around him seemed huge. The bed, the room, even the doorknob felt like it was too damn high.
And the woman—the one who had called him "sweetheart"—was still watching him with concern.
"Did you have a bad dream, Des?" she asked, kneeling beside the bed.
Desmond.
That name still didn't sit right, but he was stuck with it.
"Uh… yeah," he mumbled, his voice coming out higher and softer than he expected. He winced.
She smiled, brushing a hand through his hair in a way that felt too familiar. "You scared me for a second there. You were tossing and turning all night."
He forced a nod, his brain still trying to process everything. The memories of his old life as Adam were still there, crystal clear, but now there were new ones creeping in. Moments with this woman—his mom, Renée—playing in the backyard, eating cereal while watching cartoons, and even a few blurry glimpses of his baby sister.
Bella.
Holy shit, Bella Swan is actually real.
His head throbbed. He needed time to think, to process. But Renée wasn't giving him much space.
"Do you want breakfast?" she asked.
His stomach rumbled, answering for him.
She chuckled. "Alright, pancakes it is."
Desmond hesitated, then nodded again. "Thanks… Mom."
The word felt strange on his tongue, but Renée beamed. "That's my boy."
She left the room, and the second she was gone, he exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples.
"This is insane."
How was this even possible? He had died. He had spent an eternity in a void. And now, somehow, he was here. In Twilight.
And this wasn't some weird alternate version either—everything seemed exactly like the books. Which meant…
His mind raced through the timeline. If he was Bella's older brother, that put him two years ahead of her. Which meant he was about six years old right now. And if he was six, then there were still years before the actual Twilight storyline kicked off.
Years to figure out what the hell he was going to do.
The First Few Years
Adjusting to being a kid again sucked.
His brain was still wired like a grown man's, so dealing with actual children his age was frustrating as hell. He couldn't exactly sit down and talk about real-world problems or anything remotely intelligent without getting weird looks. So he played along, kept his mouth shut, and acted like a normal six-year-old.
Renée was… exactly like he remembered from the books. She was loving but all over the place, constantly jumping from one thing to another. It made life a little chaotic, but she genuinely cared, and that was more than Adam had ever had in his old life.
As for Bella?
She was still a toddler, barely walking and babbling nonsense most of the time. But sometimes, she would stare at him like she knew something. Like she could tell he was different.
It freaked him out.
But the real kicker came a few years later.
The Shield
It started small.
One day, when he was about nine, he tripped and braced for impact—only to feel nothing. It was like he had hit an invisible cushion before touching the ground. He sat up, heart pounding, and tried moving his hand through the air where he had fallen.
There was nothing there.
The next time it happened, it was more obvious. A baseball was flying straight at his face during gym class, and instead of hitting him, it bounced off thin air. People saw it, too—his classmates freaked out, and the coach just stood there, confused as hell.
That's when Desmond knew.
It was his shield.
Just like Bella's, but different. Hers was purely mental—a defense against mind-based abilities. His? His was both physical and mental.
And when he started experimenting with it in secret, he found something even crazier.
He could absorb energy.
If he focused, he could take in whatever force hit his shield and store it, like a battery. And then? He could release it back, ten times stronger.
He wasn't just a walking barrier. He was a goddamn weapon.
Preparing for the Future
Desmond didn't need a prophecy to tell him that the Twilight world was dangerous as hell. Vampires, werewolves, ancient bloodthirsty covens—none of them were going to care that he was just some guy trying to survive.
So he prepared.
He started training—conditioning his body, practicing his shield, pushing his limits. At ten years old, he was already faster and stronger than most kids his age, thanks to the way his shield subtly reinforced his body. By twelve, he could take a full-speed punch from a grown man and barely flinch.
By fifteen? He was really starting to feel like a monster in human skin.
That's when he realized something.
He wasn't just some random extra in the Twilight story. He wasn't just Bella's older brother.
He was something else entirely.
And whatever that meant, he was going to find out.