Carlisle POV

Hours had passed since the conversation with Bree and the others, and I was still sat at my desk, deep in thought. Bree's mental state concerned me, and I wasn't quite sure how to help. I had no doubt that finding her friend Fred would be a good thing, but it sounded unlikely to happen unless he let us find him. But how would he know to let us? It didn't sound like it was going to get us anywhere.

I had enough medical training (multiple medical degrees and centuries of practise will do that for you) to know that Bree was essentially depressed, and also suffering PTSD from the abuse she had suffered endemically until only a few months ago. My only issue was psychiatry was never a specialism I'd pursued, generally preferring trauma and surgical specialisms. Perhaps now was time to rectify that. I cast my eyes across the books on my shelves and spotted some textbooks from my medical school days that may help me. I gathered them into a small pile and began flicking through the top one.

I was onto the 3rd of my slightly dated textbooks (I definitely needed to find some more up-to-date research) when I heard a knock at my office door. I looked up to see Edward leaning against the doorframe.

"I heard what you were thinking, and I wanted to ask you a favour." I set down my book, intrigued. "Remember when Bella had a near run in with some low-life's in Port Angeles?"

I nodded, hands pressed into my temples. "We, um, ensured the capture and arrest of the ringleader." Edward nodded. "Who are we getting arrested this time?" I asked.

"Bree's father." Edward said simply, shutting the door behind him and speaking quietly so we weren't overheard. "She thought about that earlier too when we were talking about ways to help her. She wanted him to pay for what he's done, and from my read of her, she's not the murder spree type." He smirked as we both thought of Rosalie's response to a similar situation.

"I don't think we can take any action without Bree's consent." I frowned.

"No, that's probably wise. But we could at least investigate his whereabouts and existing criminal history, if he has one?" Edward suggested. I considered this for a moment. If we did end up taking action to ensure Bree's father felt the consequences of his crimes, we would need to know these details. It couldn't hurt to find them out now. And actually, it would probably be good to have some knowledge of his whereabouts, even if only to prevent Bree accidentally running in to him.

"Leave it with me." I said, finally. Edward smiled. I was working a night shift in the ER this evening, which would give me a chance to look up Bree's medical records and find contact details and addresses. That would be a start. I was vaguely aware of Edward slipping back out the room as I began to plot. It did feel nice to be doing something to benefit my youngest daughter, even if small and without her knowledge. I just hoped this was a good idea and didn't blow up in our faces.

The rest of the day passed quickly, and before I knew it, it was time to head to work. I kissed my wife goodbye, and got into my car, driving at my usual speed – well above the limit, but slower than my slightly reckless children. I reached the hospital in a few minutes, pulled into my usual spot, and shut off the engine. Composing myself, I opened the door and strode into the hospital through the ER entrance. I greeted a couple of the nurses as I walked past their station, and headed into my office to catch up on paperwork before I had to head off to do some rounds.

I switched on my computer and made a cup of coffee while it slowly came to life. I didn't need the drink, but it helped me fit in as just another tired doctor working a night shift – none of my colleagues would be seen dead without a coffee. Setting the cup down on my desk, I sat in my chair and opened up the patient information database. It didn't take me long to find Bree's records. I hesitated. It felt like an invasion of privacy to look at these.

Perhaps I could just skip to the next-of-kin contact details without reading the rest of the file? I quickly clicked to the relevant section, and made a note of George Tanner's phone number and address. It was in Port Angeles; not far at all. I made a mental note to not let Alice take Bree shopping there any time soon. A little further digging showed George Tanner was a hospital receptionist. I seethed. No wonder Bree had been so scared that time in the hospital all those months ago. She couldn't have taken the decision to go to a hospital lightly, and I was relieved once again that she had sought out help, even if she couldn't tell us the truth. It made me wonder how often she'd been able to visit a hospital before, and I found myself back on her medical notes.

This time I didn't hesitate, and skim read the surprisingly short page. The first recorded hospital visit was from around 12 years ago, when Bree was only 4. The summary described that she'd fallen down the stairs and had broken her arm and fractured her skull in the process. My blood boiled, realising that this was probably not the truth. Or at least, not the whole truth. The other entries were no better. Spaced a few years apart, all of them described fairly typical accidents that kids had – falling off a bike, falling out of a tree, but always with injuries that didn't quite match if examined closely – too severe, not severe enough, or the wrong body parts or mechanism of injury, or a combination thereof.

I was trembling with anger. How could a father treat his daughter this badly? How could her mother have left Bree with this monster? I paused for a moment and looked back all the way to the record of Bree's birth. I found her mother's name, Katie Tanner, and searched her up. She had a fairly short medical record too – a fairly usual childhood including a car accident with her family when she was 9. The occasional accident or injury here and there in her adult years. Bree's birth, and another hospital visit for a bad burn 3 years later, then nothing. It was like she'd disappeared from the face of the earth about 12 years ago.

I froze, remembering Bree's words. 'My mum left when I was 4 and me and my dad moved to Idaho.' I was filled with horror. Bree's mum didn't leave her. Bree's mum was dead. I was sure of it. The hospital visits recorded of Katie Tanner's adult life could also account for instances of domestic abuse, and that, paired with a sudden disappearance and leaving her daughter with a violent, abusive man, left very few alternatives. Wherever Bree's mother went, it was not voluntary. No mother would ever put their child in that much danger. That was the number 1 reason that female victims of domestic abuse didn't leave their husbands – they feared for the safety of their children if they left them behind. Bree's mother was dead. There was no other logical explanation.

I sighed, distraught. What on earth was I going to do now? I couldn't alert the authorities to this information, as without Bree's testimony, the medical records looked legit enough. And they'd wonder why I was randomly looking at this, when the last hospital entry for Bree was 2 years ago in Idaho.

Should I tell Bree? It felt wrong to keep this information from her, but would it do her any good? She was already struggling with the trauma of her past and the loss of Diego, could I add the death of her mother to the list?

I looked at my watch, and closed the database with a sigh. It was time to get on with my job. I had plenty of time to think about this later when there weren't sick people in my care.

Thanks again for the reviews :)

Bella will probably feature eventually, but she's not going to be a major character in this - I kinda like exploring the other character's stories more than hers as we don't have as much on them in the first place, fanfiction is their time to shine!