Disclaimer: Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.
A/N: This is written on request for mediate89. If you really love this fic and can't wait for updates, don't come crying to me. It wasn't my idea ;-D
I have quite a bit of this done already but updates will not be very quick until I finish off my other stories.
Flutter
It starts with a flutter in her belly. A tiny pitter patter that human ears couldn't pick up but then she's anything but. She passes it off as indigestion, or Seth's attempt at curry coming back to haunt her, but then one day shifts into two and two become four and it doesn't go away.
Jacob doesn't seem to notice anything different. Not when he's sitting on the sofa with his arm around her, or when they're fumbling with each others clothing in the back of the Rabbit, and the revelation disturbs her. If she is literally falling apart inside then he should notice.
It isn't until the sickness hits that she considers a whole new theory, and it's one that happens to be even scarier than impending death because out of all of them, it's the only one she never expected.
Two minutes. For her fate to be decided by a blue line or a pink plus sign. She berates herself for believing anyway. Still, she just can't squash the glimmer of hope. She thought she used up all her good fortune when Jacob broke his imprint for her. Could destiny be so kind as to give her the only other thing she truly wants? A tiny part of her still believes.
So when it comes out a purple squiggle she's about ready to scream.
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"When was the last time you had sexual intercourse?"
She shifts slightly. "Do you have to be so...technical?"
He narrows his eyes at her. "Leah, if you're not going to co--."
"Yesterday morning, in Billy's garage. Want to know anymore details? Positions? How many times I ca--."
"That will be enough," he sputters and she smirks. He'd be blushing if he had any blood left in him. He lifts her shirt tentatively and she winces as his cold hands rest upon her stomach. "Sorry,"
He really seems to mean it so she just nods. "Why did you come to me? Carlisle would have been better at this."
She shrugs, her gaze fixed to the ceiling as she speaks. "I knew you'd find out anyway. I don't want anyone else to know yet. I mean, if it is---if I am---," She shuts up.
"What will you do?" There is none of the contempt and disapproval in his voice that she had been expecting. He seems concerned. She shrugs again, still not meeting his eyes.
"Dunno. We've never really talked about it. It's not possible."
"Well, you're here so perhaps it is possible."
She snorts, so unladylike. "Maybe not. Maybe I've come down with Ebola."
He manages a smile, though he doesn't find her comment particularly humorous. He can hear the slight tremble underneath the rough liquor timbre of her voice. Her eyes dart every which way, looking for an exit. "It's not Ebola." he says in all seriousness because he knows she'll find that funny. "The symptoms are all wrong."
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Edward pulls her into the woods three days later, away from the prying ears of his family...and hers. It's a mystery to all of them why they still hang around the Cullens land. Something keeps pulling them together, something stronger than imprinting or love. Nobody holds any romantic ideas about two species coming together and all holding hands in peace....well, except for Seth, maybe. Their closeness is bred from necessity.
"What did it say?"
He walks a few steps ahead of her and settles on the ground, overlooking the lake. "You should stop smoking."
"Fuck!"
Edward sighs and raises a disapproving eyebrow at her. "Leah--" he warns. He certainly won't brook that kind of language from her.
"I need to say fuck, Edward."
With another sigh, he launches a rock over the surface of the water. Leah watches as it ripples, her stomach follows each motion. Edward holds her hair back as she vomits into a nearby bush. He strokes her face and whispers into her ear. "I'm going to get Jacob. Will you be okay here?"
She nods, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. When he is far enough away, she allows herself to cry.
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Jacob comes storming through the trees ten minutes later. He scans around quickly, as though he expects to be ambushed by a horde of hungry vampires. His eyes rest on Leah's huddled form and she bursts into fresh tears at the sight of his confused face. He watches her awkwardly, perhaps assessing if it is some kind of trick being played on him and when she doesn't stop crying he moves to her side.
"Baby, what's wrong?" he asks, brushing strands of tear damp hair from her face. His thick hands cup her chin and she nestles into his touch. She simply stares at him for a moment. His features are strong; sharp and she can see a whole history of warriors in the way he holds his jaw.
There is little romance between them. She was one of the first people to hold him, propped up by cushions and the safe arm of her mother. The Blacks and Clearwaters have always been close. She has watched him grow from a snotty nosed little boy to the man he is today and neither can hide their past from the other. There is no illusions of the people they want to be, the people they have moulded themselves into today. Not between them. They are who they are, their flaws and all the stupid little things they do that makes them human, despite the superior blood running through their veins.
"Leah, you're scaring me now. What is it?"
Maybe they were always meant to be together, because the love she had for Sam just pales in comparison to the familiarity she has with Jacob. She is more than willing to lay her whole life at his feet and she has to trust that he won't ever take advantage of that. Dark pools of brown are urging her to talk, asking questions when she wants nothing more than to sink into them and never have to speak and never have to change things between them because what they have now is all that keeps her going.
"You knocked me up, you mother fucker." She says delivering the words with a solid right hook. He sputters for a moment, cupping his nose in his hands and blood begins to seep through his fingers but his eyes never leave her face.
She doesn't have to see his mouth to know that he is grinning. His eyes are shining, bright and playful, tiny crinkles in the corners and now they are both laughing.
"Really?" he asks, his voice still slightly muffled as cartilage reconnects, healing over like every other wound they cause each other. It all fades in the end. Nothing ever cuts deep enough to scar. Even an imprint leaves no mark on their bonds.
"I'm gonna be a daddy?" he asks slightly dazed.
She scowls. "Yes, you're gonna be a daddy...you fucker." she adds for good measure, because she's Leah and she can never miss the opportunity to dish out misery and verbal insults. He grins and shifts behind her, long legs splaying either side of her and he buries his face in her hair and sprawls his large hands over her flat stomach.
"It's a little soon for all that shit, isn't it?" she snorts.
"Can't you shut up for a minute and just enjoy the moment?" He laughs.
She does and they watch the sunset, both minds filled with images of little girls with bows in their hair and boys running around the backyard. She turns to look up at him. "I cried when I found out." she whispers, because saying it out loud means it really happened and she doesn't want to give the world any evidence to use against her but she's in his arms, right now, and they exist outside of destiny and her bullshit rules.
"I noticed. It's okay. I won't hold it against you. You're still the most evil girl I know."
She laughs, only stopping when she feels another wave of sickness pass over her. She swallows the impulse down and nestles back into his arms, glancing up at him with the most innocent and loving expression she can manage. "It's okay if you want to cry. I won't tell anyone."
He snorts and shifts her so she's not resting all her weight on one of his legs. "Don't try to bring me down to your level, you emotional wreck."
That inspires another laugh and this time she can't stop. "You're too annoying."
He doesn't answer, just smiles down at her. A boy's eyes glittering in a man's face. She likes to think that he fought destiny for her, made the bitch bend to his will, but perhaps they've got it all wrong. Maybe this was always meant to be because she can't imagine how anything so perfect could survive the odds they've had to face.
Then she feels a flutter in her belly. Maybe it's not so hard to believe after all.
"I love you," she whispers and he responds by threading his fingers through her hair. They don't move until the sun rises again.
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