On the pretext of removing Bella's cast, Carlisle discretely shooed everyone out of the house on Sunday morning, Edward included, before sitting down with Bella.

"Yes," he said, "definitely ready to come off now," and neatly cut it, prying open the length of it up her arm.

Bella let out a quiet "whoa," feeling the strange of sensation of air on her forearm, now freed to move and flex.

"Hold on," Carlisle said quietly, putting a brace on it. "You can take this off to shower and wash your hands, but you'll still need it for a few weeks."

She nodded, but wiggled her fingers, enjoying the greater freedom of movement.

She was still looking at her hand, not really paying attention to Carlisle, when he set a box of condoms on the table in front of her.

Her circulatory system was playing tug of war with where to send her blood—not quite sure if it should go up, or down. In the end, up won, and she was left with her cheeks painted a healthy rose.

"How much do you know about pregnancy?" Carlisle asked, wondering how he could put her at ease.

"Um, the basics, I guess," Bella said, wondering how condoms related to this—she was pregnant, after all.

"OK," Carlisle nodded, trying to decide how to phrase his next words. "In any pregnancy, the mother and child are linked, and share a blood supply, food, air—everything."

Bella nodded.

"This link is most pronounced later on, but it's still present even in the earliest stages."

"Sure," Bella said, still not sure where this was going.

"And Vampire venom," Carlisle went on, "is poisonous to Werewolves."

Bella's eyebrows folded together at this segue.

"But I don't know what the reaction would be, between the two, in utero, and I would prefer not to experiment." Then he nudged the box of condoms towards her, an eyebrow raised tellingly.

Her body made some sort of sound, and her mouth the shape of an 'O', but the two did not collude to produce the expected iteration.

She was suddenly relieved that she hadn't eaten yet, as she realized the implications of his statement. What Jacob had left inside her had grown, and become part of her. Not just in her, but a physical part of her.

After she found words again, she asked. "And...after I'm not pregnant?"

"It would be wise to wait several weeks, and I'd like to do some blood tests, just to be sure it's safe."

He did not add that all pregnancies marked women. That they were literally transformed by the lives they carried, the foetus' genetic material lingering in their own tissues. She didn't need to know. Ignorance was a blessing there.

She made herself take several slow, and steady breaths, reminding herself that this was just temporary, that it would be gone, soon enough.

Carlisle asked, as gently as he could, "is there anything else you're wondering about?"

"Yes," Bella said, suddenly quiet, and still. "I know there was damage," she said, thinking of the stitches. She'd been so traumatized by everything, she hadn't even thought to ask. "Am I OK now?" She was afraid of what the answer would be.

"Yes," Carlisle said, realizing what she was trying to move towards, "everything should be healed, but use your own comfort as a guide."

She'd let out the breath she'd been holding in, nodding and frowning simultaneously. "Will it hurt?"

"No," he said, feeling a pang that she should have to ask this, to be so formed by what had been done to her. "It shouldn't be," he said gently, "and if it is, it probably means you're not ready." With any human couple, he would've added that the boy involved would likely be doing something wrong, if it hurt. He couldn't imagine Edward being so careless with his mate.

"There's no rush," he added, "or proscribed timeline. It's different for everyone."

Bella bit her lip, wondering if it was normal to want to, because she found herself conflicted with a heavy mixture of want and nervous trepidation.

"I was also wondering if you'd given any thought to my offer," Carlisle said quietly.

Bella flicked her gaze up at him, and back down again.

He said nothing, waiting for her answer, quietly putting his supplies away, letting her think in this busy silence.

If she was honest with herself, the notion of speaking with a counsellor terrified her. What, if in letting herself speak of all the things she'd held in, she let something else slip?

Made some comment that revealed more than was safe for the Cullens? Or the person she disclosed it to?

Or worse, made them think she was crazy.

Could they commit her? Like Charlie had tried to?

Could Edward keep her safe from that? Would Charlie try again?

Her front tooth cut into her lip.

Carlisle passed her a cotton compress, smelling, more than seeing the blood.

"I'll take that as a no," he said. "But if you change your mind—"

She nodded, relieved to have the question pass again.

When the cut had stopped bleeding, she pulled away the compress, her own question ready to be asked.

"When can I have the abortion?"

He didn't need to ask if she'd started menstruating. They all knew she hadn't. "Tuesday," he said, hating to make her wait, but hating more the idea of putting her through the procedure itself. Her body could still reject it by itself.

"And how long will it take to work?" she asked, still so fuzzy on so many details. It was hard to hold onto things she'd been told.

"If nothing's happened by then," he said, "I'll give you the shot that morning. Then you take the follow up medication the next day."

"And after that?"

"It usually takes a few hours before the bleeding starts, which last a few days." Seeing her look, he added, "no, not the kind that will be a problem here."

She sighed her relief. "Tuesday," she said again, holding onto it like a talisman.