Title: Gods & Monsters
Author: Monroe Vs Mansfield
Words: 797
Rating: K+
Summary: She gasped out breathlessly and without warning, jolting up from the bed where she lay on her back, her hand grasping at that of the Doctors. She wasn't a god, and she wasn't a monster. Spoilers; everything up to and including 2x11. Warning; mentions of abortion.
Disclaimer: Yup, you guess it…I own zilch.
A/N: I have so much un-posted Lana/Thredson/Johnny stuff pilling up, you have no idea. All mistakes are my own, plus it was 4.15am when I decided to write this, my bad.
Gods & Monsters
"Stop!"
She gasped out breathlessly and without warning, jolting up from the bed where she lay on her back. Her hand grasped at that of the Doctors; stopping her dead in her tracks barely seconds before she penetrated her again, this time with the cool metal implement which could - and most likely would - rid her of her problem once and for all. If only she could just let her get on with it.
"I can't…"
But she just couldn't do it. Despite all the hostility she'd previously felt for the unborn child – Thredson's unborn child – she just couldn't do it. She couldn't allow the doctor go through with the task she'd asked of her; to kill the poor innocent baby growing inside of her at that very moment and scrape it, as well as any and all evidence of its very existence, from her womb. She just couldn't do it, no matter how much she'd believed she'd wanted it, she just couldn't do it.
"No more death…"
She could feel her bottom lip quivering, her whole body trembling for that matter, it was as is all the oxygen had been drained from the room all at once as she struggled to control her breathing – a flood of adrenaline kicking in, and taking control of her whole body, as the ghastly memories of how she'd ended up here flashed before her very eyes. She didn't want this child, and she sure as hell knew she could never be the one to raise it. In fact she'd said it herself all those weeks ago, to Oliver back while she was chained up to that bed in his basement, that a mother's love was unconditional and that everyone deserved it. But she could never bring herself to love the baby conceived out of the torture and misery she'd had inflicted on her by its murderous and psychopathic father. But this tragic story, which she'd fallen an unwillingly victim to during the past few months, had already been tainted with so much suffering and death; that she couldn't possibly add taking away this baby's life to the list. She'd never be able to live with herself if she allowed the doctor to carry out the abortion she'd so desperately longed for since her own failed attempt.
"No more"
She might not love this baby, or even be able to stand the fact that it was flourishing and thriving inside of her in the first place, but she wasn't a cold heartless bitch and she certainly didn't hate it. How could she? It wasn't the poor little things fault it had been conceived, and in such a horrifying turn of events. In fact it was nothing more than an innocent victim of terribly unfortunate circumstance – not much unlike herself.
She wasn't a god, and she wasn't a monster. She knew she had no right to take the life of this innocent child, out of her own purely selfish desire, to forget this whole ordeal had even taken place. She couldn't end her child's life before it had even started, simply due to who its father was, because she knew that she'd never be able to live with herself if she did. Yes, she'd killed a man. But she'd taken his life in self defence, and it had been more than justified, but deep down in the depths of her subconscious she'd killed Thredson to protect her unborn child, from ever being tainted and corrupted by him and his sick twisted mind games and torture.
Whether she chose to acknowledge it or not; she'd been protecting her child from Thredson from the very moment she'd been informed of its existence. She hadn't been lying when she'd told Thredson that she was going to kill the baby out of mercy, and that had been exactly her reasoning behind her decision to give herself an improvised coat hanger abortion, to protect the baby from ever having to be condemned to, or god forbid a helpless pawn, in the formidable situation.
But Thredson was gone now; she'd made damn sure of that when she'd stuck that bullet in his brains. So now she wasn't taking this baby's life in order to protect it anymore – but rather out of her own selfish desires. As soon as she realised this she knew without a shadow of doubt that she couldn't kill an innocent, defenceless and blameless baby, especially her own… she never could, and she never would have gone through with it. No, she wasn't a god, nor was she a monster. And despite its paternal origins, neither was this baby. They where both undeserving victims who deserved to go on to live happy, healthy lives and nothing less – even if fate did have different plans.
