Not Without a Fight
Annaleise Marie

Round Twenty-Six

AN: Oh gosh, such wonderful feedback since the last update! Thanks so much to everyone who read, especially those of you who took a second to drop me a line! To my anonymous reviewers, I'm sorry that I was unable to send you the preview for this chapter, but if you'd like to receive them in the future, I really need an email address from you or you'll have to make an account. Please note that FFn's spam filter recognizes and deletes links in reviews, so you'll have to write out the address differently. For example, when I send my address on here, it becomes annanocturnal at gmail dot com. Or, you know, you could just email me at that address there. Just put "Chapter Preview" or something in the subject line so I know what it's about!

As a head's up, this chapter contains one of those rare 3rd POV situations. I felt like the situation needed to be in the story, but I couldn't imagine Rose or Emmett being involved. So brace yourselves for that, if you hate 3rd POV as much as I do.

Also, as with every other chapter with a lemon, if any of you are under eighteen or legal age in your respective country keep it to yourself. I absolutely do not want to know. As far as I know, every one of my readers are adults, in accordinance with law.

Anyway, moving steadily along. I own a candle that makes my room smell like fresh laundry even though I haven't done laundry in a week so I'm just a big fat cheater, but I do not own Twilight. That would be Stephanie Meyer.



Life is pretty awkward when your mom might be pregnant, and you know she might be pregnant, but she's not telling you that she might be pregnant. Especially when she does insist that you go grocery shopping with her.

What do you even talk about? "Oh, the lettuce looks especially fresh today, and by the way congrats on that thing growing in your uterus I was sure it was a barren desert by now."

Yeah, I didn't think so, somehow.

"So have you decided on a college?" Mom asked, holding up a head of lettuce to inspect for wilt or slugs or whatever the fuck it was you inspected lettuce for.

"George Mason," I said, leaning with my forearms on the cart. "It'll be most convenient, with the Metro system."

"You have the Jeep," she said. "You should go to whichever school you think is best. Besides, Maryland has a train system, too."

"I figured I'd cut my losses and go somewhere we haven't lived yet, that way if we end up moving in June you might not have a problem with it being near my school," I said honestly. "I don't want to move twice in two months."

"I don't think you need to worry about that anymore," she said, tossing the lettuce into the cart.

"Yeah?" I asked. "Why's that?"

Just freaking tell me and get it over with, already.

"I just think maybe we've found a place we fit," she said, shrugging. I let my head drop to my forearms. "Emmett?"

"Yeah, no, I'm okay," I said. I sighed and looked up at her. "That's it, though? That's the whole reason?"

Mom looked puzzled. Well, she was a good actor, for someone who completely lost her cool so often.

"I know you're not necessarily on board with the idea of me and Carlisle seeing each other, dear, but you know, your father's been gone for a very long time and-"

"Mom, jeez, this isn't about Dad," I said. "I mean, yeah, I guess I still don't really think you're ready to be seeing someone, given, you know, the anniversary, but if he makes you happy, whatever."

"I guess that's about the closest thing to a blessing I can expect, huh?"

"Pretty much."

I steered the cart into the next aisle.

"Anyway, I guess I just think it's kind of weird that you're basing huge life decisions on a guy you've been seeing for what, four or five months?" I said.

"You were pretty up in arms about not moving when it was going to take you away from Rosalie," she pointed out. She was right, but I wasn't about to give in.

"Yeah, but you're, you know, different about that sort of thing, Mom," I said. "Unless it's not just Carlisle? Or, not just a dating thing, anyway?"

For the love of god, tell me!

"Honestly, Emmett," Mom sighed, grabbing a loaf of bread off the shelf and tossing it into the cart. I caught it and sat it in the child's seat. If I didn't, she would throw a couple cans of soup on top of it in the next aisle and we'd be having sandwiches and toast that roughly resembled the shape of a candy bar for the next week.

"I'm just saying," I said, shrugging.

"If there's anything you need to know regarding my personal business, I'll be sure to let you know," she said. I felt like screaming.

"You know, if there is anything, now would be a pretty ideal time to tell me," I said. "I mean, we don't see each other much with you working nights and me being in school and all."

"How about this," Mom said, turning to me abruptly. I planted my feet to avoid pushing the cart into her. "You tell me what exactly it is you're getting at, and I'll tell you whether it's an appropriate discussion to have in aisle three of the grocery store."

"Would aisle six be better?" I couldn't help it. Mom looked taken aback. I held up my hands in surrender. I got it, the issue was the public setting. No big deal.

"Have you picked a major yet?" she asked, changing the subject. I sighed.

"Pre-med," I said wryly. "I'm considering becoming a pediatrician. Never know when you'll need a good pediatrician in the family."

Mom opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it closed. I just stared at her.

"Emmett," she said in that warning do-not-cross-me patented Mom voice. I wondered if that would rise in strength after she had another kid. The thought was scary.

"I don't know," I relented. "I'm considering an educational major, but it doesn't really matter yet. Most majors require the same core classes, so I can get those out of the way before I decide."

"Hmm," she muttered, checking her shopping list.

"So Mr. and Mrs. Hale are back in town," I said, changing tactics.

"Can't say I'm excited," she mumbled. I guess her fight with Mrs. Hale was still pretty fresh in her memory.

"Yeah, it was something of a warzone over there yesterday," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Some dogs or something tore into the trash on the curb, both of ours, and they found this positive pregnancy test."

"Hmm," Mom muttered again. But her eyes had stopped moving as she appeared to skim the list.

She didn't say anything more. That sealed it. Because see, if it wasn't hers, the response would have been something similar to a nuclear meltdown at the idea of my life being over in the face of teen parenthood.

I hadn't tricked her, she just didn't have anything to say because she knew now, beyond a doubt, that we both knew the truth.

Mom was definitely pregnant.


The ride home was unnervingly quiet. I tried to make conversation a few times, and once I even straight up asked Mom if she had considered names yet, "because I'm particularly partial to the name Nan, you know," hoping that at the very least suggesting naming her child after my dog would make her mad enough to talk about it. But no luck.

I helped her put the groceries away in silence and then slipped out and across the lawn to Rosalie's house. Alice was sitting on the porch, her hands clasped around a steaming mug of coffee.

"Why are you out here? It's like ten fucking degrees," I asked, my words sending up steam from my breath as if to punctuate my point.

"Jasper and his dad are having a 'talk' about how things are going to work from now on," she said, imitating Mr. Hale's stern monotone.

"Ah," I said. "Probably not a good time to go in there, then."

"Nope," Alice agreed, shaking her head. "Rose is in the garage, though," she added, nodding in that direction.

"Thanks," I said. I shrugged my jacket off and handed it to her. Even with her coffee and her own coat, she had to be getting cold out here. She smiled and I headed for the garage.

The large door was open and as I walked through I saw Rosalie's feet sticking out from under the BMW. I knocked on the hood and heard a thump and then a muffled curse before she rolled out into view. She had a smudge of oil on her forehead and her hair was twisted up in a messy knot. A large Dickies work shirt was pulled over a cami, the lace edge just visible over the top closure. All in all, she looked nothing like her usual put-together self, and it was somehow sexy as hell.

"Trying to collapse the car on me?" she asked. I smirked and straightened up from where I had been leaning on the car.

"What are you doing?" I asked, ignoring the question. Rosalie rolled her eyes.

"Me? I'm just writing the next great American novel, of course," she said. I laughed. "Jasper wore out the clutch. I'm replacing it."

"Not great with a stick?"

"I'd hope not. Alice would be heartbroken," she said, grabbing the bumper and rolling back under the car without any further delay. I crouched down, peering under the frame.

"I see you're feeling better," I said. She shrugged.

"There's something to be said for not being viewed as a lying attention whore," she said. "Besides, the parents have been uncharacteristically subdued since Jasper's outburst."

"I would imagine," I said. Jasper's outburst had been terrifying in its own rite, but it seemed to have done the trick. Which was definitely a good thing. I hadn't seen Rosalie this laid back since before she had told her parents the first time.

"Yeah, well, it's actually something of a miracle. I didn't think anything could break through their willing fog of naivete," she said. "So have you talked to your mom?"

"Sort of. She's not too happy with me. Apparently I picked a bit too public of a forum to air the happy news," I said, shrugging.

"Yeah, sounds like you," she laughed. I nodded.

"The good thing is, this seems like enough to stop the move for good," I said. "She was pretty adament about that."

"Well then at least we'll definitely be in the same place on breaks next year," she said.

"It's something," I agreed. She nodded. "So, first appointment with Dr. Cullen tomorrow morning?"

"Yeah. That's why I've got to get this fixed," she said, groping around on the cement beside her for her wrench.

"I could give you a ride," I offered.

"I bet you could," she said, grinning. "That's not exactly the type of therapy I'm looking for, though."

"No?" I asked, grinning. I was pretty sure that sort of therapy was always helpful.

"Well, not the only therapy, anyway. Besides, Alice has her appointment right after mine, so I've got her for emotional support, and I don't want you to miss school," she explained.

"We all know what a tragedy that would be," I said dryly.

"Yeah well, you're walking a mighty fine line with your mom right now," she said, grabbing the oil rag from the ground beside her and rolling back out from under the car. I stood up, my knees cracking.

"So what are your plans for the rest of the day?" I asked as she stood up and started rubbing the oil from her hands. She shrugged.

"Well, I was hoping to hang out with this really sweet, funny guy," she said, smirking at me.

"Sweet and funny can only get you so far. He'd better be sexy as hell, too," I said, playing along. She shrugged, only the smallest smile hinting at the joke.

"He's alright, I guess," she said noncommittally.

"Just alright?" I asked, feeling a grin spread across my face. I took three long strides to stand in front of her, stopping when my chest was barely touching hers. She didn't move, holding her ground. "You shouldn't settle for just alright."

"What can I say, I guess I'm in love with the goofball," she said, grinning up at me. I fucking loved hearing that. It was getting ridiculous, how much it affected me. It was all I could do to stop myself from pushing her against her work table and fucking her senseless.

"You can't play this game with me when your parents are home," I said quietly. She ran her fingers up my arm, making the muscles there twitch and a shudder to run through me.

"Your place?" she asked. I shook my head.

"My mom's home," I explained. "She goes to work around seven though."

"My parents are really weird about the whole out on school nights thing," she said. This was frustrating. I hadn't realized how handy it had been having them out of town all the time. Well, on some levels, anyway.

"When do they leave again?" I asked.

"Wednesday," she said. I groaned.

"Yeah, no, fuck that," I said. I leaned in closer, forcing her to take a step back, and pressed the control for the garage door. It started to lower with the clank of metal and grinding of the small motor. "I'm not waiting until Wednesday."

Rosalie shook her head and I paused. What was wrong?

"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned at the sudden change in her demeanor. A few minutes ago she had seemed all for this. Was it about doing it in the garage? Because really, this was the girl that I had fucked in the closet during her parent's Christmas party and who had blown me in the school library. Weird settings seemed to be okay with her.

"Just clearing some unwelcome thoughts," she said, shaking her head again. I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling hard. So that was it. She was thinking about the whole thing with Royce. Did she think about that every time? I really didn't want her associating what we did with what he had done to her.

"Look, this weekend's been pretty intense for you," I said carefully. "If you need time-"

"Don't act like I'm about to break," she said, appearing taken aback. I couldn't think of what to say. I was unsure of my options. On the one hand, I really fucking wanted her. Really. But on the other hand, I didn't want it to happen with that on her mind. Maybe it was selfish or whatever, but I couldn't accept even the thought of Royce being involved in that part of us. I wanted it to be only me.

"I just want you to be okay," I said. "Really okay. I don't want you to associate what happened with Royce with this."

Maybe that was unrealistic. Rosalie stared at me for a second, looking almost apologetic. I got the feeling she knew that it would be impossible to keep the two completely separate. Hell, I knew it. When that was your first experience with sex, how could you not associate it? All I could really do was make sure that we were the complete fucking opposite of that.

"I am okay," she finally said, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss me.

My hands went to her waist, hooking my fingers in her belt loops and pulling her against me. She reached around with one hand to cup the back of my head, deepening the kiss. I groaned and stepped forward, forcing her to move back until her back hit the work table. She braced her palms against the edge and I lifted her up to sit on the edge. I settled between her legs as our kissing turned into a battle, each fighting for dominance until she pulled away, her breathing uneven and her lips wonderfuly swollen.

"You know we have to be pretty quick, right?" she asked as I started kissing from her neck and down to her shoulder, pushing the collar of her work shirt to the side to expose more skin, sucking gently before running my tongue back up to her jaw, reveling in the shudder it sent through her.

"Babe, it's been like four days already," I said, reaching for the button on her jeans and undoing it and the zipper in one fluid motion. "I really don't think that's going to be a problem."

"Oh, four days, how you've suffered," she said. The accompanying laugh was cut off as I slid my hand into her panties and slipped a finger between her folds, turning it into a shuddering sigh. I circled her clit lightly and she pushed her hips against my hand, seeking more pressure. She was already wet, her underwear soaked and her skin slippery. I pushed my finger inside of her, making her gasp. I groaned myself at the feeling of her slick inner walls grasping at my finger.

"Seems like you want it pretty bad, too," I said, smirking. Her eyes, dark with lust, met mine, and she grabbed my shirt, pulling me to her to kiss her again, her hips shifting against me. I pulled my hand away and she whimpered at the loss before I tugged at her waistband. She put her hands down on the edge of the table again, lifting her hips to let me pull her pants and underwear off all at once. She kicked off her shoes and pushed her pants off her legs with her feet.

I stepped back to shuck my own pants, Rosalie watching me the whole time, her expression greedy. I paused just long enough to pull a condom from my pocket - I had taken to carrying one at all times after the Christmas closet incident - and then I was pulling her closer to the edge of the table, our lips battling fiercly once more. She bit my lower lip softly before pulling it into her mouth, soothing it with her tongue, and I moaned. I tore open the condom wrapper and hurried to put it on as she slid her hands under my shirt, running her fingers along the tense muscles of my stomach and chest, dragging her nails along the skin, making me shudder. It was all I could do to focus enough to actually put the damned thing on correctly.

I lined himself up, still gripping her hips, and entered her in one quick thrust. She cried out, the sound muffled by my mouth on hers. Her muscles clenched and I dug my fingers into her hips and pulled my mouth from hers, my jaw clenched and my eyes closed as I tried to regain control of myself.

She took a deep breath, shifting her hips slightly as she sought friction.

"Fuck, babe..." I groaned. She could only nod, and I laughed. After another moment I started thrusting, shallow at first, and then longer, deeper. Her nails dug into my shoulders and I let out that fucking growl that she somehow always seemed to pull out of me. She shifted her hips and I hit a spot deep inside of her that made her cry out, her back arching against me.

"God, Emmett," she groaned. "Harder!"

I complied eagerly, pounding into her, sweat dampening my brow and shoulders. She moaned loudly, glad that the garage wasn't connected to their house. There was no way that we wouldn't have been heard if it was.

"Fuck," I moaned again. I was getting close, but I wanted her to come first. I moved one hand to rub her clit in time with my thrusts and felt my muscles start to spasm, grasping at me. "Come, babe," I growled. She arched her back again, letting me reach impossibly deep, bottoming out completely with each thrust. Almost... "Come on, babe, I want to feel you come on my cock," I hissed in her ear.

She cried out, louder than before, tightening around my dick, milking me. Her nails dug harder into my shoulders, and with one last hard thrust I reached the edge, swearing loudly. I emptied myself inside her, groaning as her muscles continued to twitch around me, pulling every last drop from me.

She slumped against my chest, gasping for breath, her legs shaking. My own felt weak with my release and I gripped the table hard to stay on my feet. We were quiet as we both tried to collect ourselves and then I laughed, slightly breathless, my soul light in the afterglow of release.

"And you wanted to wait until Wednesday for that," I said.


3rd POV

As a medical professional, Carlisle knew he should be more calm and collected. Logically, he knew that. Unfortunately, logic had nothing to do with the situation.

When Esme had asked him to come over, citing the "need to talk", he had assumed the worst. Or, what he had thought would be the worst: that she had decided to move after all. But no, he had been very wrong on both counts.

"You're sure?" he finally gathered himself enough to ask.

"Pretty sure," she said. "It's been over a month, and the test was positive."

Carlisle exhaled, leaning back on the couch.

"Wow," he said. He couldn't think of much else as a response.

"I know it's kind of a lot to take in," Esme said.

"I just... How?" he asked. Esme smiled quizzically.

"I'm pretty sure you were there? The Hales's Christmas party? Lots of wine, music..." she said. Carlisle shook his head.

"I know, I know. I just... God. A baby," he said. "I just don't... A baby..."

"It's going to be okay, you know. I mean, we've both already done this once," Esme said. She wasn't fazed by Carlisle's apparent freakout. Dale had acted much the same way when he found out about Emmett. It just took awhile for it to sink in.

"Yeah, but we were almost done. Edward and Emmett are both leaving for college in the fall. And we're not... I mean, we're not in a position to be having a baby together," he said, running his hands through his hair, making the blond locks stand on end. Esme smoothed them back.

"It may not be ideal, but it's not all bad. Did I want to start over as a mom at forty-five? No, of course not. But it really will be okay," she said.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Carlisle asked. Esme shrugged.

"I guess it's just not the worst thing I could imagine," she said. Carlisle sighed.

"It's kind of early," he said. Esme nodded. She wasn't sure if he meant in their relationship, or in the pregnancy. Both were true enough.

"It'll work out, one way or another," she said. She realized she wasn't sure which one she was talking about, either.



Dr. Cullen's office was a calming sort of place. It was located on the top floor of the tallest building in town - a whole five floors, if you can believe it in this dinky little town - and it was furnished all in dark wood and plush, comfortable chairs and a couch. I eyed the couch when he ushered me in for my appointment.

"Should I lie down?" I asked. Dr. Cullen smiled kindly.

"If you're more comfortable that way," he said. I shook my head and sat down in an overstuffed chair. He sat down in the one opposite and propped his feet up on the coffee table between us. I was a little taken aback. He seemed too relaxed to be a doctor.

"Um..." I started after we had sat in silence for a few moments. "I'm sorry, I really don't know how this whole thing is supposed to work."

"Why don't we start with what brings you here today," he said, still smiling. "What brought you to make this appointment."

I took a deep breath. That was quite a question.

"About... well, almost a year ago, actually, I was dating this guy. That in itself is a long story, involving my parents and his parents and a lot of other crap... But I guess you probably know a lot of it, since you know them, right?" I asked. He shrugged.

"I'd rather hear it from you than reach my own conclusions. Who knows what the truth is? Actually, it's not so much the truth that matters, as what you think and what you feel about it," he said. I took a second to digest that before deciding it was fair enough.

"My parents wanted me to date this guy, because he's their boss's son. I guess that's not super important, really, except that it proves that I didn't want to be with this guy in the first place," I started. He nodded but didn't say anything. "So for a while things were pretty normal, I guess. But then it turned pretty bad. Like, really bad..."

I told him the whole story, skipping any uneccessary detail. I managed to keep dry eyes through the whole thing. I was pretty proud of that.

"So I guess everyone thinks I'm not dealing with it well on my own, and that I need help," I said.

"Do you think they're right?" Dr. Cullen asked. I bit my lip, thinking about it. "Why don't you think about it this week, and we'll pick up there next Monday. I do think I can help you cope with this, Rosalie, but you have to want help."

He said it kindly enough. I didn't feel like he was accusing me of wasting his time. And he had a point. Everyone said it was obvious that I needed help. But did I think I did? I wanted Mom and Dad to believe me... I didn't want them to think of me as a liar... but did I really need therapy? Or was I functioning well enough on my own?

It was definitely something to think about.


AN: This chapter got rewritten like three times, so if anything about the flow or anything seems off, that would probably be it and I do apologize. I hope you enjoyed it, anyway!

As a reminder for anyone who might not have checked it out, or didn't know, I also have a story called "Not Without a Fight: Rematch", which tells Alice and Jasper's story from different points in their relationship, most taking place before this story. So if you enjoy this story's Alice and Jasper, I highly recommend checking it out! So far the storylines have included the day they met, the day Alice's mom left, the "Royce Incident" as recalled by Jasper, and their 'first time'. I also accept requests for it, so that's always fun.

Now, all reviewers will once more receive a preview for the next chapter, hopefully much quicker than last time! I look forward to hearing from you, and thanks so much for reading! I hope to see you next chapter!