It had only been twelve hours since Carlisle and Edward had returned from Bella's, twelve hours since both had learned Bella was pregnant with Carlisle's child, but it felt as if it had been twelve years.

Though no one said anything since the initial argument, since Carlisle's non-negotiable decision to follow Bella Swan's lead, battle lines had been drawn.

Jasper had started packing his and Alice's things immediately. A trunk filled with Alice's belongings sat damningly by the front door, Jasper's silent warning to Carlisle of what would happen by sunset if he chose to persist in this madness.

Alice had hovered by the trunk, a conflicted look on her face, but she hadn't declared that she wouldn't leave the house and thus Bella behind. Jasper, Carlisle was sure, would listen to her if she insisted. Alice's happiness was paramount to him. She didn't say a word though and her silence spoke for itself.

Where they would go was a mystery to Carlisle. Perhaps to one of the other Cullen properties, though Carlisle doubted it. This was Jasper making a statement, calling Carlisle a fool for playing with their lives in a time of crisis, and perhaps enraged that Carlisle would allow Bella to risk her life over an impossible dream.

Jasper's relationship with Bella was complicated. Carlisle was sure Bella didn't know, Jasper had kept so much distance from her, but Jasper was rather fond of her. He found her strange and more than a little naïve, but he was fond of her none the less and had been excited to see her become a part of their lives. Certainly, he'd been excited to be able to stand near her without the danger of devouring her.

That certainly didn't help things either. Jasper would always carry the guilt, shame, and horror of having nearly eaten her with him. Every time he looked at her, he saw the girl he'd almost murdered and would undoubtedly be devastated should anything happen to her.

Bella herself he viewed with awe for the way she had so easily forgiven him. She had seen him at his worst, for what he truly was, and she hadn't even flinched. She'd accepted him openly as her future brother-in-law and seemed to have no idea that Jasper expected her to be terrified of him. To him, Carlisle was sure, Bella represented the best of humanity.

Jasper would not stay to watch as she died. More, if the child was what Jasper feared, then he did not want to be the one to dispose of it in front of her. If Jasper stayed, they all knew that he would be the one who would do it.

He had his limits, silent boundaries he dared not speak of nor cross, and Carlisle would not blame him for it.

Edward and Esme had disappeared somewhere, left the house entirely, and had yet to return. Carlisle imagined Esme was attempting to console Edward as well as herself. The feelings of betrayal Carlisle had expected weeks ago finally appeared to have hit.

Carlisle imagined running after them, after her, and finding her but—

They had had weeks to talk, and he had tried. He'd tried to ask her how she felt, tell her how he felt and why he had done it, but she hadn't wanted to listen. Now he had nothing left to say.

As a result, only Rosalie, Emmett, and Carlisle remained where they were. Sitting in that damned living room waiting for something, anything, to happen.

"When's she supposed to get here?" Rosalie finally asked as the clock chimed noon. In the twelve hours since Rosalie had learned everything, she'd seemed to have come to terms with it.

There were no words now about Carlisle's having slept with Bella, no open contempt, disdain, or anger. Rosalie had said her piece, said it once and said it strongly, and now the matter between them appeared to be settled.

Well, perhaps not settled, but she was making her priorities clear as she always did.

She would stay, and thus Emmett with her, and stand beside Carlisle and Bella until the very end no matter what Rosalie thought of the pair of them. They could talk about marriage, ethics, and adultery later, but for now, for the child, there was no question of where she stood.

"I don't know," Carlisle answered quietly.

"Should we go pick her up?" Rosalie asked and Carlisle shook his head.

"Originally, ideally, I would have brought her here immediately but—"

Edward had appeared, shattered her window, and Bella had been forced to throw a fit to explain its state. He doubted Charlie Swan would let her out of his sight now, not after the last three times she'd nearly disappeared without a trace thanks to Edward Cullen. More, even if she did manage to get away, given the wedding that had just fallen through—

It was all too likely the blame would fall on Edward Cullen.

Bella would have to come up with some excuse, some reason, on her own as to why she had to leave. Carlisle was hoping she'd get a chance to call, they could talk and come up with some sort of plan. He was tempted to call himself, except for the fear that she'd answer with Charlie with her and that the he would see the caller ID. As it was, some part of him was sure she'd come up with something herself: and given all the other plans Carlisle knew Bella had come up with it would be terrible.

"But?" Rosalie prompted.

"Charlie will immediately suspect Edward of murdering or abducting her if she were to disappear now," Carlisle explained, "Given Bella's condition, that would not be ideal."

It was one thing to pack up and move in the middle of the night when it was only the six of them running from vague suspicions. It was another if they became suspects in a kidnapping investigation of a human girl they had, indeed, kidnapped.

They would have to disappear soon regardless. They might have to disappear now, depending on Bella, but if they were subjects of an investigation…

Carlisle couldn't simply move across the country, not even to another country, the family would have to disappear for decades.

"But she is going to call?" Rosalie asked, looking more and more desperate.

"Yes," Carlisle said, and even though he didn't know for sure he was sure that she would. Somehow, with the same faith he had for God, he believed that Bella Swan would not simply disappear.

She would call.

"So, while we're waiting," Emmett drawled slowly, "Can we talk about you having sex with Bella?"

Rosalie and Carlisle both turned as one to look at him.

"Really?" Rosalie asked.

"What?" Emmett responded, looking wounded, "We're just sitting here anyway. And as soon as Bella gets here, I'm sure it's going to be all about the little antichrist."

Carlisle blanched, "Please do not refer to it as—"

Emmett spoke right over him, "I mean, I know this isn't great timing but I'm just dying over here. I have to know was it—was it good?"

"Emmett!" Rosalie screeched in horror, whacking Emmett over the head.

"She's so squishy and tiny!" Emmett exclaimed, knocking away his wife's hand, "I mean, even for a human, she's practically made of glass! I just—how the hell is she not in a wheelchair right now? And where did you even do it? Does she have frostbite in her—"

"Emmett!" Rosalie tried again, "None of that is important! I don't want to know how they—"

"You've got to be curious," Emmett interjected, "I've been dying for like, twelve hours now, I have to know!"

"You don't have to know!"

"Yes, I do!" Emmett said, "This is for science, Rose!"

"Oh my god," Rosalie said, rubbing at her temples, "I don't want to know how Carlisle and Bella had sex! I don't even want to know why they had sex."

Even having been there in person, Carlisle wasn't sure he could explain exactly why it had happened.

She'd asked, of course, and they'd been given the blessing of their respective significant others but—Well, it had certainly been a moment.

"I don't want to even discuss it," Rosalie continued, closing her eyes as if, should she open them, she'd see Bella and Carlisle on the floor in front of her, "I am so disgusted by everyone I just—But it happened, we're here, and we are going to help Bella in any way we can."

"And Carlisle," Emmett added, "You know, since it's his little—"

"Carlisle," Rosalie said looking pointedly at Carlisle, "Can go to hell for being a sex depraved fiend who will cheat on his wife just because Edward tells him to. Carlisle belongs in a cheap Eastern European porn film. As far as I'm concerned, Carlisle is just the hapless vampire sperm doner."

Carlisle just blinked once, twice, and finally said, "Thank you, Rose."

"I'm not talking to you about anything not relating to Bella's pregnancy for a year," Rosalie said, staring him directly in the eyes and daring him to beg for her forgiveness.

Carlisle didn't try, everything she'd accused him of was technically true.

He turned to answer Emmett with a sigh, "To answer your question, we used the hot tub."

"Really, Carlisle?" Rosalie asked, no doubt thinking of college students, spring break, and the type of people who had sex in hot tubs.

Now it was Emmett's turn to look horrified and panicked, "You what?! You used my hot tub!"

"Have you ever used your hot tub?" Carlisle asked in turn, knowing full well the answer was no.

"I had plans for it!" Emmett said, "Rosalie and I were going to use it!"

"We were never going to use it," Rosalie corrected, rolling her eyes.

"We might have used it!" Emmett retorted, then, clutching at his unbeating heart said, "Now, god, we never will. I can't unsee it."

"You asked," Carlisle pointed out.

"You weren't supposed to tell me!" Emmett shouted. He then gestured towards Carlisle in amazed despair, "What—what happened to normal, polite, dad Carlisle? You know, the guy who would never ever tell me he had sex with Bella Swan in a hot tub."

Carlisle considered that for a moment, considered who he'd been not so long ago, but he was so emotionally exhausted he couldn't remember if he'd ever been that person Emmett was describing.

So, he simply said, "He's dead."

Then, because he was unable to help himself, he added, "I believe he died sometime between Edward assuring him that Bella wouldn't even notice the difference and his wife telling him to spend Edward's honeymoon with Bella in Brazil."

Both Rosalie and Emmett stared at him with open mouths, doing remarkable impressions of drowning fish.

"I don't believe we'll be seeing him again," Carlisle finished calmly.

None of them had anything to say after that.

For several minutes they sat in complete silence, waiting for Bella to either call or arrive.

Finally, Rosalie spoke, "Carlisle, what—what about you and Esme?"

The question of the hour.

Carlisle smiled bitterly, "I don't know."

He'd thought about that himself, thought about it when she ran out of the house with Edward without a word to him. They'd been married so long and yet—

He couldn't remember the last time they'd talked.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd said anything of any importance to her. He couldn't remember the last time she'd done the same for him. It suddenly felt as if they'd been drifting apart for years, in some sham of a marriage, such a farce that Esme could easily suggest he sleep with another and think it wouldn't make a difference.

And it hadn't. Wasn't that the cruelest joke of all?

For those two weeks between the weekend and the wedding, Esme had known exactly what he had done, and she hadn't cared in the slightest. No, she'd been preparing him for Edward's wedding night, for Edward's honeymoon, and Carlisle imagined that even had those happened she would have been perfectly fine.

After all those years, after everything, and they'd had nothing.

He wasn't sure if Esme could forgive him for what was happening. However, more than that, Carlisle wasn't sure that he could pretend to go back to what they had been. No, he couldn't go back to pretending to be in a relationship he had evidently never been in in the first place.

He hadn't even been able to run after her…

"Carlisle, you can still fix this," Rosalie said softly.

"I thought I was an Eastern European porn star," Carlisle said with a bitter smile.

"You are," Rosalie said firmly, "If Emmett did what you did, I'd—well, I'd never have given permission."

"No," Carlisle said softly, "You wouldn't."

"But she loves you, Carlisle," Rosalie continued, "Esme—"

"Rosalie," Carlisle interjected, shaking his head slowly, "I'm not sure Esme even likes me."

And he wasn't, he—

It occurred to him only now, years too late, that they didn't know each other. The Esme he thought he had married would never have agreed to any of this. Even if she had, she would never have later looked at him the way she had last night. As if only then, only in that moment, had he betrayed her.

No doubt, Esme felt the same regarding him, she had even said as much.

Who had they even married? It certainly hadn't been each other.

Funny, he'd thought he was so knowledgeable when he'd approached Bella. He'd talk to her about her and Edward's relationship, serve as an advisor on what love was and how to find it, how to make a marriage work, and here it turned out his marriage was the biggest joke of all.

No wonder Alice had advised him to say nothing.

And yet, at least, at least Bella realized her mistake long before he had. At least Bella, even if it was Bella alone and not Edward, had realized that they weren't ready.

And she'd been so brave, so strong, stronger than anyone had ever given her credit for.

Would Carlisle have been able to do what she'd done? Could he do it even now? Could he tell Esme they needed to talk, desperately talk about the state of their marriage and rediscover who they were? Could he leave her? Could he watch her leave him and not say a word? Could he turn his back on everything he knew, decades of his life with a woman he still thought he loved desperately? Would he have been able to say no to her over and over and over again the way Bella had with Edward?

With only one conversation, held with a man she barely knew, Bella had had the strength to do what Carlisle could scarcely imagine doing himself.

And even now, as she hurtled into the unknown and faced death, she didn't hesitate.

She prepared to leave her father behind, knowing what it would do to him. She prepared to face Edward, knowing how he might react. She prepared to carry and raise an inhuman child that was not Edward's, not Jacob Black's, but that of a man she had spent only one weekend with.

Carlisle hadn't realized at the time, had only distantly acknowledged it, but Bella Swan just might be the strongest person he'd ever known.

It was at that moment that he heard her car, her familiar battered truck, turn into the driveway.

They stood as one and made their way to the door. Opening it, they saw Bella clamber out of the truck desperately. She barely made it onto the ground before she vomited on the pavement.

They watched in mute horror as she continued dry heaving for several seconds afterwards, one hand gripping the truck to keep her upright while the other rested on her stomach. Finally, she stopped and looked up at them, taking them in one by one: Carlisle, Emmett, and Rosalie.

She didn't ask where the others were, didn't even look for them.

Her eyes were dulled by exhaustion, her face paler than usual with just a hint of green, and her voice was hoarse as she said, "So, we've got a few problems."

She removed her hand from the truck to start counting off fingers, "One, I haven't been able to keep anything down for days. I just tried to eat one of those saltine crackers, huge mistake."

"Two," she continued, "Charlie noticed and, thanks to my mental breakdown in the middle of the night and vomiting everything, he tried to take me to the emergency room."

Oh, oh no—

"Three, when I made a break for it in the truck, he set Jake after me. Jake, of course, found me because the truck wasn't made for speed, and he—well... Let's just say he saw my stomach and took a wild guess and after that he went digging through my garbage and found a whole pile of pregnancy tests."

Bella took a deep calming breath, clutching her stomach, and added, "Four, which is really three, I—I don't know what Jake's going to do but—"

She didn't say it, perhaps couldn't. The Quileute tribe had been her friends and protectors in her darkest hour, when the Cullens were nowhere to be found and Victoria was terrorizing the small town. She'd been close with them, but especially with Jacob Black, so close that even Edward couldn't break her bond with him for all that he'd nearly won her hand in marriage.

And Carlisle didn't want to imagine what Bella was implying either. These were warm, generous, people. People who had come to their aid against a common enemy when even the Denali had not.

But if they realized what Bella was carrying…

Bella then nearly doubled over, she weakly smiled up at them, "And five is that he kicks. He kicks hard."

She stumbled towards them, Carlisle rushed over to help support her, and she smiled up at him gratefully.

"The good news is I called Charlie and told him I was running away to Florida," Bella said as they slowly walked into the house, "Somebody can take the truck, I can call every few hours or something, and then I can… I can disappear somewhere in the middle of the country."

"We'll take care of it," Carlisle said softly, and he wished he could say something more than that, tell her that her worries were over, that he was so sorry she had to do this, but she didn't seem to mind.

Instead, she grinned up at him as if he'd said the kindest words he possibly could.

He smiled gently back down at her.

He swore that somehow, no matter what, he'd make sure that everything would turn out fine.

Author's Note: Next chapter, Edward makes up for his absence in this chapter by coming back and being ten times more Edward than usual.

Thanks to readers and reviewers.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight