A few months passed. Scott was barely home and when he was, he was insisting on his son.
The son he wanted.
"Take it," Scott ordered, setting the pregnancy test, "Unless you want me to draw blood for nothing."
Ana looked down at it. "Why?"
"You're a week late. Nausea, occasional vomiting, your hair is a little...shiner than usual. And I get a feeling."
"A feeling?" She raised her brow.
"A doctor's feeling. Let's just check. Pee on the stick, Morgana."
At her name said so sternly, she snatched the stick, going into the bathroom. He followed her, slamming his hand on the door, preventing her from closing it.
"I need to see you do it," He said softly. "You understand."
She rolled her eyes. He averted his eyes, leaning against the door.
"We've only been trying for a few weeks," he said softly, "It's likely."
At the sound of her stream of pee stopping he looked up. She flushed, washing her hands.
"This baby," she whispered. "Is gonna save our marriage."
He said nothing, instead watching the stick. She watched with him, quietly.
The test showed the result and she turned around sighing in relief.
Scott tsked in disappointment. "Well...it's not your fault. Sometimes it takes time to...take. If another month passes, we'll go get tested. Make sure everything's fine. Yeah?"
She turned around, as he put his hand on her shoulder. "Ana? You okay?"
"Oh," she smiled. "Yeah...yeah you're right I-well, I mean, it's not...um..."
He narrowed his eyes. "Yes?"
She clenched her jaw. "Well...it's like...you know fine. But not fine! I'm...I wish I were pregnant. Right now. But I'm not. So that's fine."
He narrowed his eyes a little more. "The way you're stammering is...odd. Are you disappointed? Is this embarrassment? You know I don't understand social cues relating to unspoken emotion."
"I am fine," she reiterated. "That is the emotion that I am emoting currently. Fine."
He frowned. "Fine is not an emotion. Is it?"
"Yeah...it's fine. It's like a state of being, and a state of neutrality in terms of emotions."
He nodded slowly. "I see. So you're not feel either good or bad, regarding this, you're just...fine?"
He shrugged. "I see. And with the current news, is that...abnormal?"
His pager went off. "Oh,"
"You're a resident. You have to answer every page right?" She said quickly.
"Yes. That's right. That's correct. Uh...I'm being paged. It's an emergency. So...we will discuss this later,"
She nodded. "Alright."
He grabbed his coat. "Good. I'm not sure how long I'll be."
Morgana just nodded frantically as he ran out the door.
Thank god. Thank god. She held her heart. Thank god. Her body felt heavy. But she got up and took her birth control.
Save their marriage. Right. His savior son. The one he wanted to fix them. Could a child really did them?
She laid on the hardwood floor. She touched her stomach.
Morgana felt tears leave her eyes. She'd bled. Not a period. She'd had a miscarriage.
And she didn't tell him.
She couldn't tell him.
So she just kept popping birth control, praying and hoping that she wouldn't get pregnant again.
She chuckled. Maybe if she hadn't been a high functioning drug addict she wouldn't have lost the child.
Her eyes stared up at the florescent light illuminating the kitchen harshly.
She was tired. Too tired to move. Too tired.
Ana closed her eyes, finally getting up. This was demented. This being. This marriage. This relationship.
The notion she could change or fix him. Heh. She could never... she got up, wobbling gently, pulling herself up on the cabinet, losing her balance a bit.
She reached for something to steady her, opening the drawer by accident. A knife glinted, sending a shiver down her spine. Her hands shook, as she picked it up.
Tenderly, she pressed it against her wrist. She swallowed roughly.
If she did it right...
She pressed harder, a drop of her blood beading from the small cut. She smiled.
Yes. It could work. No more. No more of it. Any of it.
Slowly, surely, she became more confident. Drawing more blood.
"...Mommy?"
She froze. Her blood turned cold, as she turned toward Annika, who stared up at her with tears in her eyes.
"Mommy you're bleeding." She sniffled.
Ana looked down at the knife, her stomach turning.
Annika turned around, running away, toward their bedroom.
"Daddy! Help Momma her wrists are bleeding."
"No..." Ana whispered. She ran after Annika, putting her hands on her small shoulders heavily.
"No. Annika. You can never tell your father about this do you hear me?!" She shook, her grip a little too tight. "Never! Swear it! Swear right now!"
"I'm scared..." Annika quaked.
Ana swallowed roughly, putting the knife down. She forcing a smile on her face. "Hey...hey, it's okay. It was all an accident. Mommy had an accident is all. Your dad will worry, you understand? Annika?"
Annika nodded quickly.
Ana grinned. "Good," she loosened her grip, fixing Annika's clothes. "Good. This was all a little accident. We don't wanna tell Dad about this right? We don't want daddy to worry. Right, Annika?"
"Yes, Mommy."
Ana cupped her cheek, her hand shaking, and cold against the young girls skin, her blood dripping on the child's white tee shirt.
"You're a good girl Annika. Go...go play okay?"
