No Plan ━━ Spencer Reid

[ 001 ] Surprise, Surprise

[ September 10, 2007 ]

She wished she could cry.

An ironic thought, considering Daisy was sitting on the floor of her bathroom with dried tears streaming down her face, her cheeks looking like they'd been massacred with a mascara wand. She'd already cried—had been crying for the past twenty minutes, in fact.

Leaning against the marble basin of the bathtub, Daisy let her head fall into her hands with a long-suffering sigh. She kept her eyes open, because she'd been crying for so long that it hurt to let her eyelids fall shut. Instead, Daisy just stared at her vomit-stained blouse dejectedly, wishing she could hurl up the baby inside her as well as her breakfast.

Then again, it wasn't a baby yet—just an insignificant bundle of cells that Daisy couldn't even be sure was actually a baby.

She glanced up at the bathroom sink. The counter was wet with the water she'd clumsily used to wash her tear-stained face, but Daisy could clearly see the white piece of plastic sitting there. Her three-minute timer had gone off over a minute ago, but when she'd finally convinced herself to sneak a glimpse at it, she'd chickened out at the last second and collapsed on the bathroom floor in a sobbing heap.

Deep breaths, she told herself sternly. Deep breaths; stand up.

Daisy did so—it was hard to resist her teacher voice—and reached up to rub her eyes, staring at herself in the mirror. The mascara stains had faded slightly, but tear tracks were still very much visible, and her dirty blonde hair stuck to the sides of her face with a mixture of sweat and tap water.

The silence was broken by the sink turning on. Daisy's hands drifted under the cold water and she rested her elbows on the counter, letting her head droop between her shoulders. She turned the water off and ran two wet hands through her hair, drawing her mouth into a thin line, her eyes inches from the small circular drain.

Her face was distorted in the wet metal's reflection, but Daisy could clearly make out her red-rimmed eyes and trembling lower lip.

She didn't need to look at the pregnancy test to know what it said, but she did anyway—and there, clear as day, were two red lines mocking her.

The sound of her phone ringing from her bedroom made Daisy jump and hit her forehead on the still-dripping faucet. Cursing under her breath, she rubbed her head with a wince and padded across the hall in her dirty socks, entering her small bedroom.

Daisy peeled off her socks and threw them into the laundry basket, not bothering to fix the one that was hanging off the edge as she sat down on her sloppily made bed and picked up her phone. She put it to her ear and yawned widely, trying to stifle it through her words. "H-h-hello?"

"I feel like you always forget at least one thing every time you visit."

"It's seven in the morning, Sean," Daisy sighed, standing up and stretching. "Why are you up so early?"