The Mute Reporter

45- Six Years Earlier

Samuel Winters

I lifted my head as the doctor walked back in the room, and he set down papers on the counter.

"Well, we have your test results back," he begins, his eyes skimming the papers once again.

I look over at Celia as I wait for him to continue.

"Congratulations Sam, you're almost five weeks pregnant." The doctor hands the papers to me so I can look at them, but I don't want to hold them.

Celia takes it instead, looking over the results.

"Is the father in the picture?" The doctor tilts his head, and I know he's not asking out of curiosity, but because he has too.

I sign, and Celia translates.

"He says it's complicated."

The doctor just nods, and grabs a few pamphlets off the wall.

"Well, you do have options. It's my job to inform you of what you have the choice to do, and these pamphlets will just go a little into more detail. If you have any further questions, don't look online, call me. Okay?"

I just nod, too shaken up to form a coherent thought right now.

The only thing I'm thinking is how I want to go home.

———

"Do you want a cookie? We only have two left." Celia holds out the plastic container with two of those sugar cookies left, and I grab one.

I was able to eat slightly more than saltines, so a cookie is really pushing it. But the prenatal vitamins I was given are already helping my nausea.

Celia sits down next to me and begins to munch on the last cookie, watching the office once again.

I finish it not even halfway through the episode, and we watch a few more from the evening and into the night.

"I'm going to go shower, and if you hear a knock on the door it's probably Becks." Celia gets up, and I nod in understanding, turning back to the tv.

I notice my hand is on my stomach.

I take it away, a little freaked out at the thought that there was something there.

**TW**

A knock sounds on the door, and Celia's voice rings in my head about Becks coming over.

I sigh, not wanting to get up, but I do so anyways. Leaving the comfort of my couch, I walk over to the door and open it.

It was not Becks.

'What are you doing here?' My hands move away from the door handle to communicate with Jensen, and he frowns.

"I want to talk." I watch as his jaw hardens, and his eyes roam down my body.

I look down as well, and I curse myself inwardly for just wearing short shorts and one of his shirts that was huge on me. He left it here a bit ago and I wanted to wear it.

'Well I don't want to talk to you.' I reach my hand out to the door handle again, and begin to close the door.

He slams his hand on it, stopping me from closing it any further.

I try to push the door closed again, but my strength is no match compared to his.

Jensen opens the door with ease and walks in. I back away, and he grabs my wrist, closing the door now behind him.

"Like hell you don't want to talk to me." He mutters, walking further into my apartment and pulling my along with him.

I could smell something on him. Alcohol. Was he drinking?