A/N: Lots of positive reaction and interesting theories about last chapter and what's going to happen with Jake and Nessie. We'll get back to them soon. Since I've been brutal with the cliffhangers these past few chapters, I'm giving you all a reprieve - and some answers - with this chapter. Enjoy the peace, because it won't last!

As always, MunkeeRajah and Evelyn-Shaye graced this chapter with their marvelousness (yes, I just made that word up). They are the cat's whiskers!

You all know who really owns Twilight.

Chapter 28 – Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere

Leah POV

My knuckles had barely brushed the door of Carlisle's study when my vampire doctor winged it open; apparently, he was eager to see me. Polite of him to wait, I thought wryly, since he'd known I was there from the moment I pulled up outside the house in Mom's obscenely noisy Buick. The damn thing knocked so badly you wouldn't need vampire perceptions to hear it indoors. In the shower, playing some heavy metal in the background for ambiance.

I was pretty sure my heart was hammering that loudly, too.

"Come in, Leah," Carlisle said with a warm smile, as if he were unaware of the booming in my chest. "Please have a seat."

He gestured to a plush-looking leather chair in front of his desk. I dropped into the chair and deposited the beat-up backpack I'd been carrying on the floor. I expected Carlisle to take the seat on the opposite side of the massive mahogany expanse. Instead, he hitched his hip on the corner of the desk and leaned toward me companionably.

"How are you feeling?" He thought my visit was just a follow-up for his treatment of the back injury I'd suffered while rescuing Nahuel.

I'd intentionally timed this checkup for when the search party was organizing at the practice field. Nahuel hadn't been pleased at the scheduling conflict, wanting to be with me to hear Carlisle's reassurance that my back injury was healed. It had taken some fast talking, but I'd finally convinced him to wait for me at the field.

I felt certain that we were alone in the house, but I wasn't taking any chances on being overheard—by my imprint or anyone else. I lifted Seth's old Spiderman backpack onto my lap—lame, I knew, but it was the only thing I could find this morning. I unzipped it and pulled out a pen and legal pad, on which I'd already scrawled a note.

"I'm great, doc," I replied, slapping the pad on the desk beside him. Carlisle raised his perfectly arched eyebrows questioningly. I gave him what I hoped was a meaningful look, and used the pen to underline the note.

Is it possible?

Barely allowing him a second to read the message, I laid the pregnancy test on top of the pad, just below the written line, window-side up.

He leaned over the pad, bending his flawless face closer, as if he wasn't sure what he was seeing. His golden eyes scanned the note again. He took in the bold blue plus sign—it couldn't have been any clearer to read if it had been flashing fucking neon.

His mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. He exhaled slowly—stalling for time because we both knew he didn't need to breathe—and pointedly did not look at me for the several seconds it took to exhaust his air supply.

I'd never before seen any vampire—let alone Carlisle—look so utterly surprised. Watching a vampire be struck speechless was an interesting experience. The play of emotions across his face occurred so quickly, I'd have missed them all if I'd been merely human.

Shock. Disbelief. Reluctant acceptance. Concern. Remorse. And briefly, before his usual cool, collected mask slammed back down, something indefinable.

Finally, after what seemed like a thousand years, but was probably no more than half a minute, he lifted his eyes to mine and regarded me wordlessly. He extended his too-white hand, palm up, silently requesting my pen. I handed it over. His script was quick, flowing and elegant. He laid the pen down on the pad and slid the paper toward me on the desk.

If this is yours, I suppose the answer must be 'yes.'

I snatched up the pen. My handwriting was not nearly as neat as his, mostly because my hand was shaking so badly I had trouble holding the damned thing.

Of course it's mine! How could this happen? I was here, under your care, for two days and you didn't realize I'm pregnant?

I furiously underlined the last few words for emphasis.

How could you miss this?

He visibly cringed. Reaching behind him, he plucked a second pen from a cup on his desk.

I wasn't looking for this. I was focused on caring for your injury. I'm so very sorry. I will need to do some tests, including a repeat of the urine test. Do you know when conception might have taken place?

Now I was getting pissed. I'd come here for answers. Not to have him ask me questions I couldn't answer myself. I scratched so furiously on the pad that my pen ripped through the page at the end of my next message.

How should I know?

I knew I was being irrational, but I was freaked out and needed someone to blame. Remembering the tests Carlisle had done a few years ago trying to determine why I no longer had a menstrual cycle, I scribbled angrily:

I didn't even think it was possible because YOU did all kinds of tests that said I was infertile!

Remorse and embarrassment were clearly warring in Carlisle's golden eyes, and if I wasn't so scared shitless, I'd actually have felt badly for him.

I'm so very sorry, Leah. The tests seemed to indicate this would not be possible. In understand an unplanned pregnancy can be very upsetting.

That quick, my emotions swung from anger to regret. Damn. I was jumping all over the one person I needed most right now. And I wasn't even upset that I might be pregnant. I was terrified of having a vampire pregnancy. Or a half-vampire pregnancy. Or a half werewolf pregnancy. Shit! I was scared that I didn't know what to expect, and even more rattled that Carlisle didn't seem to know, either. I'd been counting on him for reassurance.

I shook my head and murmured so low I was pretty sure only he would hear: "It's not your fault."

Nevertheless, I hope you realize I will do everything in my power to help you.

I nodded. I knew. I might be freaking out on a number of levels right now, but one thing I was confident about was that Carlisle would be there for me. Vampire or not, it wasn't in his nature to do anything less than his best for the people he cared about, and, for some reason beyond imagining, I was one of those people.

So, what do I do now?

First, we'll retake the initial test. Then we need to determine how far along you are, and if the pregnancy is progressing as a normal human gestation would, or if it's more like a hybrid pregnancy.

I swallowed hard and nodded. That was my biggest fear—that I might be facing what Nahuel's mother or Bella had gone through. I kept telling myself that even if I was, even if this baby was going to be fully developed and ready to rip its way into the world in just a few short weeks, I had advantages that a human woman in my situation would not have. My wolf healing abilities just might allow me to survive the—my mind could barely wrap around the thought—delivery.

But even if I survived it, could Nahuel? He'd nearly lost his mind over my close call in the barn. My going through a vampire pregnancy would be his worst nightmare come true.

Once we have those answers, we'll be able to discuss your options.

I read that line twice, blinking and bewildered. Options? Did I have any? It seemed like my options had been sparse my whole life.

What is the earliest possible date of conception?

I shifted in my chair uncomfortably, heat rushing up my cheeks. He was essentially asking me when Nahuel and I had sex for the first time. It was like having your mother ask you if you were "being safe" or your father picking up tampons for you at the supermarket.

Of course, I knew the exact date—how could I ever forget it?—and I jotted it quickly.

So six weeks is the most advanced the pregnancy could be. Are you experiencing symptoms?

I nodded and scrawled a quick answer.

Vomiting, nausea, vivid dreams, mood swings, dizziness, weakness, exhaustion.

Carlisle raised his golden eyebrows.

These are all normal early pregnancy symptoms. When did they emerge?

I thought about it. If I had to pin down the first time I'd felt not quite right, it would have to be that day in the barn, when I nearly passed out after finding my imprint nailed to a wall. At the time, I'd written my weakness off to the shock of the situation, but in hindsight I realized that my reaction was so far out of my norm, it had to be related to my condition.

Five days ago.

Have you been able to keep food down at all?

Yes. Nausea and vomiting are intermittent. I've been able to keep down most of what I eat.

Some obscure emotion flitted quickly across Carlisle's face. If I hadn't been watching him so closely, I might have missed it. The brief flicker of sentiment had almost looked … hopeful?

Any sensation of movement?

It took me a second to figure out that he was asking if I'd felt the baby move.

No. Is that bad?

His smile was still guarded, but now I definitely saw a hint of relief playing at the corners of his upturned mouth.

No, it may actually be very good. Bella felt movement nearly right away. The fact that you haven't yet may mean your pregnancy is more similar to a normal human gestation.

Of course, he didn't say (write) what both of us were thinking: If this was more like a human pregnancy, it might actually be survivable.

I'd like you to take a second test, just to confirm. Then, I'd like to see if we can get an ultrasound.

I looked at him, surprised.

You have all the stuff to do that here?

Carlisle's smile was smug.

We Cullens pride ourselves on being prepared for anything.

Yeah, but a pregnancy test? Maybe because of Renesmee. Or Anjali. I squelched that last thought. I didn't want to think about Seth's imprint right now. I nodded, and Carlisle stood, moving to a cabinet behind his desk.

While he collected his supplies, I tore the pages we'd filled off the legal pad and ripped them into tiny pieces before tossing them in the trash can beside the desk. By the time I was done, Carlisle was back, holding out a fresh pregnancy test. When I took it from him, he nodded toward a side door and murmured, "You can use the en suite facilities."

Of course, the bathroom was amazing, all granite and marble and high-polished fixtures. If I weren't in such a hurry to take Carlisle's test, I'd have enjoyed lingering in that lavatory. I'd never thought of myself as a bathroom junkie, but damned if the Cullen mansion wasn't making me realize I had a bit of a fixation on beautiful bathrooms.

I ripped open the box Carlisle had handed me. This test was different from the one I'd dug out of our vanity cabinet in the wee hours this morning while Nahuel slept obliviously in my bed. Not only was it well within the expiration date stamped on the package, this test looked both more sophisticated and simpler at the same time. Instead of a plus or minus sign—or a varying number of lines, like the ones Rach had once told me she used—this one had a little window in which the words "pregnant" or "not pregnant" would appear in about three minutes. At least that's what the directions said.

For the second time that morning, I squatted over the john and peed on a stick. When I was done, I capped the stick per the directions, rearranged my clothes, washed my hands, retrieved the test and headed back into Carlisle's office—all without looking at the results.

He was sitting at his desk, fiddling with some small hand-held device that had a funny-looking wand connected to it by a short, coiled cable. He looked up expectantly when I entered the room. Had it been three minutes yet? I wasn't sure, but I handed him the test anyway, still not looking at that little window.

I'd been grappling with the possibility that the first test was so far past its expiration date that I'd gotten a false positive. But this one was definitely going to be accurate. What did I want it to say? I didn't know.

Carlisle took the test from me, flipped it over and read the results. Without a word, he looked up at me again, his expression carefully neutral, and turned the stick so the window faced me. I'd have been able to read it from across the room.

I'd never seen one single, solitary word look so incredibly huge before.

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing and just waited for him to tell me what to do next. He held my gaze for a few moments before rising from his chair. Carrying the strange device, he came around the desk and stopped in front of me.

"While you were in the restroom, I confirmed that we are alone in the house and no one is in the area to overhear us, so please feel free to speak," he said.

"Okay." I still couldn't force my voice to be much more than a whisper, but it wasn't like he'd have a hard time hearing me, no matter how weak my volume. "What next?"

He held up the device. "I'd like to do a Doppler and see if we can hear a heartbeat."

"Uh, shouldn't it be too soon for that?"

"In a normal human pregnancy, a heartbeat can often be detected through a transvaginal ultrasound as early as five and a half weeks," he said. "If this pregnancy is progressing as Bella's did, we won't be able to hear anything at all; the vampire amniotic sack will prevent it. This device isn't as reliable as what we would have in an obstetrician's office, and of course we won't be using a vaginal probe, but if we can hear a heartbeat, well, that would be reassuring on several levels."

I nodded thoughtfully, processing what he'd just said. "Will it be able to tell us how far along I am?"

"Probably not." Carlisle shook his head regretfully. "However, it could be a valuable clue. Of course, we'll monitor the pregnancy over the next few days to see how things progress. If we hear a heartbeat now, and see no significant changes in the next day or so, that would seem to indicate a more normal pregnancy."

Suddenly, it struck me that Carlisle was being very careful not to say the word "baby." He'd said "the pregnancy," and even "your pregnancy," but he hadn't said "baby" or "fetus." Not once. Why was he doing that? And why did it bother me?

"Okay, so what do I do?"

He gestured to the long leather couch on the far wall of the room. "Please lie down and lift your shirt."

I crossed to the couch, lowered myself onto the cool leather and hiked the hem of my T-shirt up under my tits. Carlisle knelt on the floor beside the couch, a large squirt bottle in his right hand.

"You should unzip your jeans and lower them a bit," he said, his tone pure professionalism and quiet calm. "We don't want to get any of this gel on them."

I huffed in annoyance, but followed his direction. When my clothing was out of the way, he poised the bottle over my still-flat stomach and paused.

"This will be a bit cold," he warned, then squirted a liberal dollop of the gel on my skin. Once he had my tummy well slimed, he turned on the Doppler and hovered the wand above my abdomen. "Ready?"

I nodded once, and Carlisle touched the wand to my stomach, applying firm, even pressure.

Sound filled the still and quiet study.

At first, it was nothing more than the susurrant whisper of a hidden stream or small burrowing creature moving through a crumbling tunnel. Then, as Carlisle manipulated the wand slowly over my skin, a single theme resolved over the soft muddle of swishing and hissing. A steady, speedy tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump pulsated in a rapid gallop. Its pace reminded me achingly, poignantly of another life-changing sound—the rhythm of Nahuel's heart.

I gasped, heaving a great, ragged gulp of air into my lungs, struggling against the hard jolt of shock that hit me in the chest.

It wasn't amazement at having my suspicions confirmed. It wasn't even surprise that this was not only possible but actually happening. No, it was utter astonishment at the swell of sheer, unadulterated fucking joy that surged through me as the sound of that tiny, powerful, perfect heartbeat filled the room.

"Oh, my God," I breathed. "Oh, my God."

Carlisle—unflappable immortal, level-headed professional that he was—had been trying so hard to play it close to the vest and keep his emotions under wraps. At the sound of that heartbeat, and my obvious reaction to it, he broke into a radiant smile. He looked like someone had just told him he was going to be a grandfather again. His surreally perfect face lit up with exactly the proud, elated expression that I imagined my father would have worn if he'd been alive to share this moment with me.

For the first time since I'd been made painfully aware that the stories about the Cullens were true, I didn't care at all that Carlisle was a three-hundred-year-old vampire and, supposedly, my natural enemy. It didn't matter that he smelled like a mixture of scorched sugar and something you'd find rotting at the bottom of a dumpster behind a butcher shop.

Ignoring everything I'd once believed about the evil, blood-thirsty nature of leeches—not to mention the cold slime smeared all over my stomach—I threw my arms around my vampire friend and hugged him for all I was worth.

SSW/SSW/SSW

After several minutes of hugging and crying—well, I cried while Carlisle smiled like he'd just won the lottery—we began to plan. And disagree.

Carlisle did a quick yet thorough examination, even drawing some blood that he said he would test later. After declaring my vitals were all perfect, he began to assemble a medical bag of items he would need to keep tabs on me for the next few days while we were searching for Jake and Renesmee.

"Doc, let's keep this between you and me for now."

There was no way I was ready to let anyone know about this, especially not Nahuel. The happy glow in Carlisle's kind eyes dimmed slightly when I asserted that I would not be giving my imprint the news of his impending fatherhood just yet.

"If you think that's for the best …" he murmured, trailing off expectantly, as if by giving me an opening, I might quickly change my mind.

"It is."

I was firm on this. Although Carlisle seemed to think that hearing a heartbeat was a good sign that my pregnancy was more normal than paranormal, I needed to be completely sure that everything was fine, progressing smoothly and safely before I broke the news to Nahuel. If he thought for even a moment that I was going to end up like his mother, well, to say he'd lose it would be an understatement.

Even if I could convince him that I would be alright, that our baby wasn't going to hurt me, I still didn't know how he'd feel about being a parent. It was one thing to want to be with me, and another entirely to accept responsibility for a new life. It's not like he'd made love to me knowing the possible consequence could be pregnancy. I'd told him I couldn't get pregnant. His choice to be with me had been made without accurate information, so how could I blame him if he decided that he didn't really want to be a father to our baby?

Our baby.

The thought sent a thrill through my body and the ripples of it shook my heart. I'd thought I'd known before what I was missing by not being able to have a child. I'd thought I'd sounded the depths of that particular hole in my life. Now, I realized that I'd never fully understood what I'd been lacking until it wasn't absent anymore. It felt exactly the same as realizing that Nahuel was the missing piece of my soul.

Carlisle interrupted my sappy mental rambling by loudly shaking two pills into the palm of his hand. He added two more from a second bottle, then held the fistful out to me along with a glass of water.

"What's this?" I asked, taking the pills and the water from him. I looked at the tablets. They were the size of a horse suppository, for fuck's sake! How was I supposed to swallow all of them without choking?

"Prenatal vitamins and an herbal supplement to help with the morning sickness," he said, slipping both bottles into my backpack. "Please take two of each daily."

Crap! Of course I'd need to pay attention to my nutrition now. Were there other health concerns I needed to think about—beyond the possibility that the pregnancy would end with my own baby ripping through my uterus? Dread curled through my stomach as a question occurred to me.

"Doc, what about phasing?"

He looked up from the medical kit. He'd slipped the Doppler device into it, along with several other items, including a tape measure and a blood pressure cuff. He looked startled, and I mentally congratulated myself on flummoxing him yet again today. I had to be establishing some kind of record for baffling a vampire.

"I honestly hadn't thought about it," he admitted. "It's likely you've already phased before you became aware of the pregnancy, so it seems logical to assume that your body and the fetus are coping with the changes. On the other hand, we really don't know what, if any, effect phasing might have. Perhaps it would be best to avoid the risk as much as possible."

I thought his reasoning was sound. Still … "How do I explain not phasing while we search for Jake and Renesmee?"

He studied me for a moment, slowly moving behind his desk, as if he felt the need to step out of my arm's reach for some reason.

"Alice and Esme are staying here, at the house," he began tentatively.

I knew this. Alice was hoping that by putting some physical distance between herself, the packs and Nahuel and Anjali – all of whom blocked her gift – her visions might clear enough for her to get a sense of where Joham had decided to take Jake and Renesmee. Plus, she and Esme were going to be keeping an eye on Mom and Charlie, although no one was going to tell them that.

"Perhaps it would be best if you remained as well," he suggested.

I felt my mood swing like a tipsy toddler on a tire swing. Now I was annoyed. Carlisle knew that I needed to find Jake. It pissed me off that he'd even suggest that I not go with the search party. He'd been around for centuries; surely he could think of a way for me to help find my Alpha and keep my baby safe at the same time.

"That's not going to happen," I said, hoping the finality of my decision was clear in my tone. Not only did I feel an obligation to help my pack brothers find our Alpha, there would be no good way to explain to Nahuel why I was staying behind.

"I don't need an excuse to stay here, I just need a reason why I'm not phasing," I continued. "Me staying on two legs is going to slow down the search party. I need a good explanation for why."

Carlisle sighed and shook his head.

"Perhaps additional caution is required to ensure your spinal injury is completely healed," he suggested.

It seemed flimsy to me, and I could see it leading to a whole lot of other complications—like Nahuel thinking if I wasn't well enough to phase, I wasn't healed enough for sex, either. I'd just have to deal with that if and when the problem arose.

"Okay, doc," I agreed reluctantly. "I got nothing better, so we'll go with your story."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Prevarication is not my strong suit, I'm afraid." His expression turned serious again. "Leah, I'll do my best to look after you while we're on the trail, but you will need to be careful and mindful of the changes taking place in your body."

"I'm pregnant, Carlisle, not crippled," I interrupted, miffed that he'd imply I was anything less than fully competent just because … oh. My internal rant ground to a halt.

I'm pregnant.

Even saying it in my own head was overwhelming and terrifying and exciting all at the same time.

"Of course." He paused, weighing his words carefully. "But there has never been a pregnancy like yours. To the best of my knowledge, there has never before been a hybrid-shape-shifter pregnancy. We can't assume anything."

I bowed my head, ashamed at my over-reaction. "I'm sorry, Carlisle. I know you're trying to help me."

He nodded his acceptance of my apology and finished packing his medical kit. In addition to the equipment he'd need to monitor me, he was taking a shitload of emergency supplies. I knew they were for Jake and Renesmee. Neither of us needed to verbalize our hope that none of those things would be necessary.

Carlisle came around his desk and lifted my backpack from the floor. "Are you ready to go to the practice field?"

I took a deep breath, held it and released it. "Yeah, I guess I am." I followed him to the study door. With his hand on the knob, he paused and looked back at me, regret clearly written on his too-perfect face.

"Leah, for what it's worth, I'm sorry for the anguish that my incorrect diagnosis of infertility must have caused you."

Surprised, I shrugged. "I told you, it's not your fault." Then, because I felt an overpowering urge to both comfort him and finally say what was in my heart, I added: "I'm glad you were wrong."

His happy, paternal grin was back.

"So am I."

End Note: Aaaahhhh. That was nice. Next chapter won't be so relaxing, so get ready! Meanwhile, if you're looking for something to do, the Sunflower Award nominations are open over at thesunflowerawards (dot) blogspot (dot) com and this year they've added a Best Wolf Story category. Just sayin'. Shameless, I know. But just sayin'. Thanks for sticking with the story. See you next week.