The world of Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I like to play in it. In this story, I wondered what would have happened if Bella was worried enough about Carlisle and Edward's attempt to save her by aborting the baby that she felt compelled to flee the household to save her unborn child. Who would have helped her? How about a homeless girl in Seattle and the youngest member of the wolf pack?

This story takes place during Breaking Dawn, and occurs after the honeymoon, as Edward and Bella return home early from Isle Esme after they learn she is pregnant.

Chapter 5 – Chats with Sue and Carlisle

We had settled into a kind of routine. Bree was right about how you could get supplies in a hospital. She was getting us food from patient trays, as well as both clothes and linens from the supply carts. She would drop the soiled scrubs and linens down the laundry chutes on the various hospital wards each morning. She walked around the hospital freely, wearing scrubs with a lab coat and stethoscope she had "borrowed" from a doctor's lounge.

I continued to struggle with eating but felt myself growing weaker, if that were even possible. I was eating tea and toast and occasionally holding down some milk, but that was about it. I needed protein. I took a chance and called Sue Clearwater, the nurse from down at the Quileute reservation.

"Hi Sue, its Bella," I say when she answers.

"Oh Bella, where are you? Everyone's out looking for you. They say you're sick, but they're not saying what's wrong," Sue gushes, concern etched into her voice.

"Sue, I'm pregnant, with Edward's child," I reply. There is a long silence on the other end of the line. "Please, Sue. I need your help."

"What does Dr. Cullen think?" she asks quietly. I decide I have to be truthful.

"He thinks that carrying the child will cost me my life. But this is my baby, and I want her to have a chance at living. But I feel terrible, can you help me? Can you help me without telling anyone that we spoke?" I ask.

Sue thinks for a moment and then comes back with, "You know this will cause a problem, but I can't let you suffer. Tell me how you are feeling."

I describe my symptoms, including my inability to keep food down. I tell her that days ago I was suffering from high blood pressure, and I tell her what my blood pressure was the time I went to the women's clinic.

Sue asks if I will go to a clinic to be examined. I tell her no, as I can't risk an exam. She gives me the names of a couple of drugs that doctors frequently prescribe pregnant women for the nausea and the high blood pressure. She tells me she can't give dosages or even be sure if these are appropriate without an exam. She finally says, "Take care, and keep in touch," after trying to talk me into telling her where I am.

Bree takes off on her rounds and returns with a Physician's Desk Reference, the standard guide to drugs, and some pamphlets and brochures from the OB/GYN ward's outpatient wing. That night, she gets into one of the clinic offices and gets some samples of the drugs Sue has mentioned, plus a blood pressure cuff.

I decide to make a call back to the Cullen's. This time I try Carlisle. Bree sits next to me on the bed, watching me intently.

"This is Dr. Cullen," Carlisle answers, his standard professional response.

"Carlisle, it's me," I blurt out.

"Bella, oh honey, how are you doing?" Carlisle says in a concerned voice, dropping to a familiar tone.

"Not so good," I answer. "That's what I want to talk to you about."

"Honey, you need to tell me where you are, so I can examine you. It's hard to talk to you over the phone. We all miss you so much, and we are so worried," he says coaxingly.

He's hard to resist, I begin to wonder if he has some gift of persuasion. Maybe I'm just tired and miss them. I feel the tears beginning to form in my eyes. I shake my head and remind myself I am staying strong for my little one.

"I am only staying away until the baby is strong enough for you to deliver by c-section," I reply in what I hope is a reassuring tone. "But I don't feel well, and I'm hoping you can recommend something for me."

"Well, without an exam, it's hard, but tell me how you feel, let me see what I can come up with," he answers.

I run through my symptoms, and he is silent on his end of the line for a moment. Then I tell him the names of the pills Bree has lifted from the clinic.

"Where did you get those," he asks quietly.

"I went to a clinic, but I didn't stay for an exam. I just stayed long enough to locate their office drug sample supply and take a few samples. They were free to the doctors, after all, it's not completely like stealing…" I try to sound convincing, but I'm not fooling Carlisle.

He sighs then finally gives me some dosage instructions on the samples we have. It's not making him happy, but he doesn't want me to suffer unduly. Just then a paging announcement comes over the hospital PA system. A doctor's name is clearly requested, using both the first and last name. Dang, I hope Carlisle's vampire hearing didn't pick up on that, I hope against hope. Maybe he'll just think I'm in a clinic.

"I have to go, thank you, I'll call again soon I promise," I say quickly and hang up.

The pills help a little with the nausea but not enough. I can keep some food down, but I still hurt everywhere. My stomach is much more prominent now. I can no longer hide it under the bulky sweatshirt. Did this journey really start just over a week ago?

We've been in the hospital for four days now. I've been texting Edward in the morning and evening. He keeps asking me to call him, but I can't stand the thought. I know I'll break down and cry, as my emotions are all over the place now. I cry without reason and talking to Edward would probably push me over the edge. We don't want someone who happens to be in this part of the building checking on a report of a crying woman.

Bree gets the key pad code to the pharmacy's electronic lock by watching one of the pharmacy techs enter the push buttons on the pad. She says she may be able to get something from it if we get the name of another drug, but then we must be ready to leave. The hospital may notice the break-in.

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