It was midday and Isabelle was staring out the window, waiting for her computer screen to load. There was a pang of emptiness in her stomach as she thought back on the conversation she and Wendell had had not even two nights ago.

"I think we need to be friends." They had both said at the same time, right as they sat across from each other on Mel and Isabelles couches. They both looked up in kind alarm at the synchronization of their thoughts but neither dared say a word. Isabelle didn't know how to feel really, but there was a sense of peace inside her that made her feel better that Wendell was on the same page.
Wendell motioned for her to speak first, the continued to rub his hands on his pants like he always did when he was nervous.
Isabelle swallowed back the lump of anxiety that was threatening to either silence her or ensure chaotic verbal diarrhea.
Neither would be ideal.

"You are an amazing guy, Wendell." Smooth. Real smooth Iz. "I just.... I can't." Wendell nodded, his face pale.
"No one should have gone through what you did, Izzie. I'm... I'm sorry-"
"Sweetie no!" Isabelle was on her feet, horrified at Wendells facial expression and the words that he was about to say was written on his face. "This is not your fault. You couldn't have done anything." That didn't stop him for looking guilty.
"I have had a lot of time to think about this. There is only one person to blame and it's neither of us. It's some asshole in a doctors coat who couldn't keep it in his pants because he didn't like that I wasn't going to take shit from him."
Isabelle sat down beside Wendell and tentatively grabbed a hold of one of his hands. He was as nervous and clammy as she was. She'd also had a lot of time to think things over and over in her head, playing what she remembered and from what the police, her friends and security footage had shown her. Munroe was solely at fault here. That and there were some nurses Isabelle had worked with who came in with claims of other harassment to support Isabelle. As hard as she had found it to believe, Isabelle knew with certainty that there was nothing either of them had done wrong. She gave Wendell a tight smile and squeezed his hand.
"I don't think I can manage having you in my life at your current capacity. But I do want you in my life, Wendell." Wendell blinked back a few tears before lifting Isabelles hand that was holding his and kissed it.
"I am more than happy to be your friend, Isabelle. Forever and always." Isabelle wrapped her arms around Wendells neck and gave him a tight hug.
"This has got to be the best breakup outcome ever." His voice was muddled by Isabelles hair but she laughed.
"There's no better way to have it."

She smiled as she replayed the conversation over in her head. Wendell was a good guy, no doubt about it. There was someone out there for him.
A notification popped up in Isabelles laptop and she grinned at who it was from, quickly pressing accept. The screen widened and Sweets filled up the screen, leaning right into his computer screen. Isabelle gave a barking laugh at the stupidity and hilarity of her friend.
"And how is my favorite patient doing today?" Sweets moved away from the computer so that Isabelle could see he was in his office at the FBI. She rolled her eyes.
"I'm not your patient, Lance Sweets. I thought you arranged this because you miss me." Sweets pulled his tongue out at her, grinning.
"I do miss you. It's been what, three weeks and you haven't come to see me? The horror!"
"I've been recovering from a very traumatic experience AND  a break up. Plus you call me every day." Isabelle pointed out. Sweets made another face at her.
"Yeah let me just say, you seem to be recovering very well."
"Well enough that I might be keen to go out for food and drinks tonight." She raised her eyebrows. Sweets eyebrows just about disappeared into his curly hair. "You also need a haircut, your eyebrows have gone missing." Sweets was practically out of his chair in excitement.
'You know what today is? Friday. Which means no work tomorrow. Which means movie night with junk food and the gang! And nobody has to stay sober!"
"Except the people who have kids."
"That's what babysitters are for." Isabelle narrowed her eyes.
"Aren't you usually the babysitter?"
"Not tonight! Oh man, I'll get it organized and I'll call you back in an hour. Oh perfect! Booth and Dr Brennan are here. I'll tell them now. I can't wait to see you! Love you, bye!" Isabelle was left chuckling as Sweets rambled as and ended the call. And then it struck her.
"Wait what?" She stared at her laptop. Love you, bye? Goodness." She shook her head.
Just as she was about to close her laptop, an incoming call froze the screen and Isabelle froze along with it, staring at the name and profile picture that came up. She answered it before the other person lost their nerve.

"Ari?"
"Hey, Izz."  Isabelle stared at the screen where her own face only slightly prettier stared back. Her twin sister's face was awash with concern as she looked over Isabelle. "I know this is unexpected."
"No shit." Isabelle was frowning as she stared at Arielle. "Why are you ringing.... It's gotta be like, 3am there!"
"It is but I wanted to talk to you. Not mum or dad but you."  Isabelle's frown deepened and the small ring of desperation that was in her sisters voice. She watched Arielle reshuffle herself into a more comfortable position. "Is that okay?"
"I mean... I guess? What's going on, Ari? You aren't dying, are you?" Arielle shook her head.
"Not dying in the literal sense. Don't worry, I would have called you much sooner but Mel may have told me what was going on and I figured you didn't need my burden on top of your stuff..."
"Well... I appreciate that but you're procrastinating. What's going on?" Isabelle repeated, leaning forward. Her stomach churned and she started to think that the breakfast burrito Mel had insisted making off of Pinterest was possibly repeating on her. She managed to keep the wave of nausea from showing on her face, thankful for the growing concern for her sister that masked it.

"I don't know, Iz. I just... Ugh, I had a psych appointment two weeks ago." Isabelle blinked. "Yes, you heard me. A psych appointment."
"Why hadn't I heard about this earlier?"
"Because I didn't want you to look at me with that exact look on your face that you have now."  Isabelle's eyes flickered to the camera screen that showed her face then looked back at her sister. "I haven't been well." There was a sense of finality and vulnerability in the way that Arielle spoke. She wasn't looking at her sister, instead looking down at her hands.
"How so?"
"Lots of things. Things I'm not ready to talk about right now but I just wanted to tell you that mum and dad will probably ring you looking for me and I just thought you should know that I'm checking myself into a mental health unit for a little bit." It took all Isabelle had to stop her jaw from dropping into her lap. Her stomach churned again and she put a hand to her abdomen. Something was definitely off about that burrito.

"I... Are you okay?"
"No." Arielle's response was quick and probably the most open Isabelle had heard her be in a long time. "But I will be. I just... I needed someone to know where I'm going and I've made you my first point of contact. I can't tell anyone else yet."
"So what do I do when mum and dad ask?"
"Tell them the truth but not the location of where I am." Isabelle nodded and winced as another wave of nausea waved through her. Arielle tilted her head. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just breakfast repeating on me. When are you going in?"
"This Friday... You really don't look well, Izzy. You're looking a bit green around the edges." Arielle leaned forward, closer to the screen. "I need to go pack but I'll call you a bit later? If that's okay?" Isabelle nodded.

"Of course. I'll be here." Arielle gave her a small smile and the ended the call. Isabelle slammed the lid of her laptop down and the discarded her computer to the side, feeling that brief moment of blind panic one usually gets before throwing up. Dashing for the toilet, she managed to lift the lid in time to empty her guts.
She stayed where she was for who knows how long, throwing up. She stopped long enough to blow her nose and wipe the vomit induced tears. She flushed the toilet just as she heard the front door open.

"Isabelle?"
"In here!" Mel came through the house and stopped at the toilet door, her friend leaning against the wall and looking green.

"My word, are you okay?" Mel knelt down and pressed a cool hand to Isabelle's forehead and then her cheek. "You're not burning up."
"I think something in your breakfast burrito made me vom." She groaned and blew her nose. Mel cocked her head then shook it.

"No, that can't be it. It's the same one I made last week." Isabelle chucked her snotty tissue in the toilet. "Maybe you're coming down with a bug?" Isabelle shrugged. She tried to stand but the world swirled around her and her stomach lurched. She leaned over the toilet again and repeated her earlier activity, only with Mel standing behind her rubbing her back. After she flushed again, she slowly got to her feet.

"I don't know what's going on but before ? I felt like death."
"And now?"
"Do we have any turkey slices?" Mel laughed at the randomness. "What, I'm hungry!"
"You just threw up."
"Yeah? So?" Mel just shook her head. Her eyes caught on something and she stopped, staring at whatever it was she had seen. Isabelle waved a hand in front of her eyes . "Mel?"
"Really random question but when was your last period?" Mel looked at Isabelle suddenly and she squinted. It was a very random question but she stood there and tried to do the mental math.
"Uh..." Mel let out a huff of air through her nose.

"Brush your teeth or just stay there, okay? I need to pop into my room and find something." Before Isabelle could say anything, Mel disappeared. She stood there for a minute before looking down and trying to see what had caught Mel's eye. Her head spun as she bent down but she found what she was looking for and held it up so she didn't have to look down and make herself feel more sick. There was a sudden pang of anxiety that struck her in the gut and she slumped down again, sitting on the floor. The box of unopened pads was in her hand, still in it's shiny new wrapper like it had been just brought from the store. Brought when Isabelle had last stocked up three months ago.

"You need to pee on this." Mel reappeared and through a wrapped stick at her. Isabelle barely managed to catch it but when she saw what it was, her stomach dropped further.

"You can't.... No."
"We won't know until you pee." Mel grabbed the pads out of her hand and then closed the door, trapping Isabelle in the toilet. "You aren't coming out until I've heard you pee!"
"Weirdo." Isabelle muttered but she knew Mel was right. Plus, there was no harm in doing this if it was food poisoning. But then Mel would be sick too and she wasn't.

5 minutes later, Isabelle stared at the stick that she had just peed on. Mel waited outside the bathroom, waiting for any kind of reaction. Positive or negative, she would barge in no matter what but only stayed out at Isabelles request.

"You have got to be shitting me." Isabelle whispered to herself. It started to make sense. The headaches, the fatigue, the sudden onset nausea. Apart, it all looked like a combination of stress and depression. While those where certainly a contributing factor, her answer to why she felt like crap was right in front of her.

She was pregnant.