Places| A Twilight Fan Fiction|

Chapter 14

Rosalie

I was a mess. Marley sat curled on the bathroom floor in front of the toilet, her body having rejected the breakfast we had made, and Emmett sat anxiously beside her. It felt like my whole life, and everything I had ever known about vampirism, was being turned inside out; there was hope for my only dream to come true, and I was equal parts terrified and in awe. How had no one known that male vampires could produce offspring with human women? Was it truly so uncommon for interspecies fornication to occur, or did male vampires generally just kill their human partners? Everything was about to change. If this pregnancy was viable, and would not harm Marley, then in the coming months we would have a baby to complete our family, at long last. But if something was wrong...

I forced myself not to consider it. Marley had forbidden negativity from the moment Carlisle left yesterday morning. For her, I would let myself feel happy for the possibility of a future I had yearned for but threw away long ago.

"Honey, are you sure you feel well enough to drive to the house?" All of the years I had spent as a midwife seemed to matter so little. This was my Mate, my family. I was beside myself with worry. After Marley had fallen asleep the night prior, after we had made love in the glorious glow of joy, Emmett and I had poured over hundreds of Internet articles, desperately searching for remedies for her, for folklore concerning human-vampire offspring, what to expect when we are expecting...

"Rose, I promise. I'm okay. It's normal." She stood on her feet and rinsed her mouth in the sink. "It's time to see Carlisle. We can't bask in the unknown forever." Her small hands clutched at her stomach. She had obviously not started showing, but I could tell that she was bloated and uncomfortable from the nausea. I wrapped her in my arms and breathed in her scent, warm and familiar, afraid to tell her just how scared I was.

"Alright," I murmured into her curls, still damp from the shower she had taken when she woke up. "Let's go find answers."

"No matter what happens," Emmett said, taking our hands in his and pulling us to his chest, "I love you both. And we will be okay." We swayed for just a moment. Marley sighed and pulled back, giving us both a smile that didn't quite touch her eyes as the first signs of panic began creeping in. She grabbed her large insulated water bottle, which Emmett and I had been refilling constantly, and took a large sip.

"I have to believe everything is going to be okay," she told us, touching first the locket around her neck and then the old and very worn tee-shirt, which had belonged to her father. Comfort. A blessing. A prayer. I followed her down the stairs, unable to stop myself from watching the sway of her hips. Her legs were clad in a pair of tattered sweatpants, and she slid on her tennis shoes by the door. I could tell she was feeling overwhelmed. In my BMW, I turned on the heat and looked over at her in the passenger seat.

"If you need to throw up again, just tell me and I'll pull over."

"I feel better now. Just hungry. I'm sure that'll change later, though." As we rolled down the drive, her lips quirked into a grin. "I feel like I wished for this, a kid with my height and Emmett's humor. What if that's come true?" I remembered the conversation she was referring to and let myself grin in response even as my insides churned in fear at what Carlisle might find. A monster? A tubal pregnancy? Something worse?

"Then we'll love them, and silently curse you for wishing them upon us," Emmett teased from the backseat, reaching to ruffle her wild mane of curls. Unsurprisingly, he had been remarkably at ease since yesterday. He was excited, in love, but not worried. His optimism was downright concerning.

"You both helped make them!"

"Technically," I pointed out, "I am neither the sperm nor the egg in this scenario and therefore I believe I should be allowed more breaks from the chaos than you." Marley nudged me as we pulled off the highway. Her expression had gone just a tad doleful.