so, i'm rather new to the ahs fandom, but i fell under Lana's spell. She's one of my favorite characters ever! this is a rough idea, and i don't fully know where i'm going with this, but i do have an inkling. if you enjoy it, please feel free to give feedback! it will be greatly appreicated.

Lana hated herself, more and more with each of thud of her awful heart. Her heart that constantly and unendingly ached for a woman who decomposed a few feet away. She hated the fact the she had allowed her mind believe that any good could come out of that damn asylum. That it could come in the façade of a too handsome man, and she was paying the price for being so stupid and naïve now. Her arms that ached to hold Wendy wrapped around her body, shivering from cold and fear. Adrenaline constantly pounded through her body because every unknown thud could be him. Every creak could be him returning, sodomizing her body with his disgusting mommy issues. Lana was constantly ready to spring to life, to fight him off her for as long as she could. Not that she could go anywhere; the shackle attached to her ankle saw to that. The vile lump that now protruded on her midsection got in the way of her wallowing. It reminded her of what he did every time her arm brushed against it, and she prayed every day that somehow she would lose it.

A part of her knew that it wasn't Its fault. The part of her that Wendy loved, she supposed. She knew it was the most innocent in this whole twisted scenario. It wasn't Its fault that Its father was a psychopath and mother was a stubborn, desperate idiot. When she thought about it that way, she pitied It. Lana sighed as the weight of her life at the current moment settled about her. Here she was, confined in some crazy man's basement torture chamber, pregnant with his child. If she wasn't crazy before Briarcliff, she was now. Her fingers attempted to run through her dark hair, but it was so greasy and tangled. Thredson wasn't big on hygiene- for her at least. Even now, when he visited he never wore less than business formal. Tie perfectly straight, not a gelled hair out of place. He never terrified her more than when he smiled, and he always smiled at her. As if they were friends. As if they were lovers. As if he hadn't held her captive and raped her more times than she could count. Lana jolted as the clank of locks she'd been dreading sounded from above. He was coming.

Lana drew her legs, shackle and all, close to her body protectively. Much too soon, his confident footfalls fell down the stairs. Today, he wore a charcoal grey suit and solid black tie. His wardrobe didn't vary much on the color spectrum. As always, he smiled at her, and to survive, she smiled warily back. If Oliver noticed the insincerity behind it, he didn't comment.

"Good evening, Lana. How are you feeling? Any morning sickness? I know you're far into your second trimester, but it could still linger about."

"I- I'm fine." Her voice was even raspier after ten hours of not speaking. He liked it like that.

"Good. Are you hungry at all? I can prepare you anything you like."

Lana cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the huskiness the surrounded every word. She knew he liked it. "No, I'm not very hungry now. Thank you."

Oliver frowned and moved closer. If he noticed her flinch, he didn't comment. "Well, you have to eat something. Our baby needs nourishment, and you do too."

She hated when he said that. Our. No. It wasn't hers. It wasn't his. It shouldn't even exist. "I'm not hungry."

He frowned. He didn't like it when she argued. He hoped his beautiful baby wouldn't get her feisty spirit. "Well, Lana. I'm afraid that is not an acceptable answer. You have to eat something. You can either choose, or I will choose for you."

Her fiery brown eyes finally met his, and he was partially disappointed that there was still so much fight left in them. "Then I guess you're choosing. I've told you, I'm not hungry."

Oliver sighed as he closed his eyes, rapidly losing patience with her. He slammed his fist on the edge of her bed, taking immense joy when she jumped. "Lana. Don't you think it's time to give up this little tough act? It's not getting you anywhere is it? let it go. Life will be so much easier if you just cooperate with me," He gestured for her to move over, and sat on the edge of the bed after she grudgingly did so. "I am so excited about this baby, and yet I can sense that you aren't. Why is that?"

Lana sneered at him as he slipped into his caring therapist role. He thought it suited him so well, but she could see the monster that wore the ill-fitting suit. "Because I don't want it. It was conceived against my will, and will be born against my will. This baby means I have no hope of ever leaving this hellhole, except in death. And, to top it all, its father is a monster."

He smiled condescendingly at her. "Oh, Lana, don't you see? Even if you weren't carrying my child, the only way you would leave here is in death. And you should be so thankful I gave you the blessed opportunity to be a mother. It is a wonderful gift. You are so strong, Lana. I know you're probably scared. Most new mothers are. It just shows that you're ready."

"If it's a gift, than I wish I could return it."

Quick as a flash, his hand flew across her face. Her dirty hand flew to her cheek, and subconsciously the other flew to the bump in her belly.

"Don't ever say that about my child. You will love it, take care of it, be a mother to it," He smiled again, but there was a sinister twist to it that made the arm around her middle tighten. "You don't want it to turn out like me, do you Lana?"'

When she shook her head fearfully, Oliver reached out and patted her leg. "Good girl. I'll make you a steak, and I'll sit here to make sure you eat every bite. Medium rare?"

Lana nodded again, and felt every muscle in her body slowly relax as he retreated. She looked down at her belly that slowly was starting to make her nightgown push outward. "I may not want you, but I'll always protect you from that monster."

Oliver returned much too soon, laden down with a tray bearing a searing steak and fresh green beans. He placed the tray across her tensed lap with a smile before returning back up the stairs and coming down with his own dinner. Lana glanced from her steak to back at him, silently reminding him that she had no silverware. As if reading her mind, Oliver held up the knife and fork tauntingly. He pulled her plate away slightly and cut up her meat as if she was a child. He placed the knife back on his own plate, and held the fork firmly in his hand.

"Now, I'll give you the benefit of doubt that you can be good enough to use the fork. Can I trust you, Lana?"

"Y-yes." With her affirmation, Oliver handed the utensil to her carefully. Lana gave him grateful smile, albeit a bit forced. He was watching her every move like a hawk, making sure the fork wouldn't somehow end up in his trachea. He knew that despite her outwardly calm manner, she was nothing but a wild animal, desperate for a way out. Lana ate her steak carefully, trying not to wince. She didn't like her steak medium rare, but didn't see the point in asking for something else. It was just fuel keeping her alive; she didn't need to enjoy it. Oliver nodded appreciatively at his cooking, pleased with himself. He enjoyed his steak fairly rare, something that didn't go unnoticed by Lana. The monster would probably eat the meat raw. He dabbed at the corner of his mouth before he began an attempt at polite conversation.

"So, today at work, I began to think of some names for the baby."

Lana almost choked on her bite of green beans. Her brown eyes flew to his soulless ones in surprise. He chuckled at her expression. "Well, we only have a few more months until the little one is here. We should at least be as prepared as we can. I know we can't know the sex, but we could at least have a few picked out."

Still, Lana said nothing. She slowly finished chewing the food in her mouth before setting her fork down. "I don't care."

"Now, now. Don't be like that. I want your input. I know it may take you a while to come around- I recognize that these aren't ideal circumstances- but you should take the most active role in our child's life as you can."

He continued on, ignoring the nauseous look on Lana's pale, tear-streaked face. "Now, for a boy, we would obviously name him after me, and I suppose for a middle name, your father, since we don't know mine. For a girl though, I didn't have much thought. I thought of some literary names that could do, but they all seemed so plain. No, our little girl, if that's what she is, needs something special. Don't you agree?"

Lana wasn't hungry anymore, and his rambling was just background noise to the rainstorm pounding between her ears. This was real. She was really having this maniac's child, and he expected her to raise it. She was expected to be a mother to the devil's spawn. God, forget plunging the fork into his neck; she'd kill herself first. Even in his baby bliss, he'd seemed to realize she'd shut down.

"Lana? Are you listening?"

The young woman drew her legs up again, almost knocking the tray off the bed. She didn't take her eyes of her knee caps as she spoke. "Get out."

Oliver seemed truly puzzled, as if he'd been enjoying his pleasant evening. "What? What's wrong?"

"Get out. Get out. GET OUT!" She shouted it now, startling him. "Get out you sick bastard! Leave me alone!"

For once, he seemed to listen. He took their dinner away quickly before she could flip it. He paused at the top of the stairs, looking down at her. "Feel better, Lana. I'll be back in the morning."

Lana breathed for the first time since he came down. The dank, antiseptic air was as clean and pure as she was going to get, so she sucked in deep lungfuls of the heavy air trying to calm herself. How could she feel better? Her environment wouldn't change after she opened her eyes after a night full of nightmares. She would still be pregnant. She would still be his prisoner. Hell, she wouldn't even be able to tell if it was morning!

Even if she was out in the real world, she didn't want to be a mother. She knew deep in her heart she wouldn't be a good one. Wendy on the other hand, would've made a fantastic mother. If they had switched places, her wonderful Wendy would embrace the child in her womb, in a way Lana couldn't fathom. She would see it as the blessed light in this tunnel of darkness. It only made the tunnel so much longer for her. She hated it, and hated herself. But mostly, she hated Oliver Thredson for hurting them all. He was pure, undiluted evil, shaped into a deceivingly handsome mold. Tears squeezed out of the corner of her eyes, and as she finally succumbed to sleep, Lana let them fall.

The clanking of the locks startled her awake in what see assumed was morning. Oliver poked his head down before seeing she was awake and coming down fully. "Are you feeling more like yourself this morning, Lana? I made you some cream of wheat."

She straightened out, fluffing the pillows behind her. "I feel fine," She looked at him and added, "I'm sorry for ruining your evening." Each syllable was coated in tin as it left her lips.

"It's quite all right. I know the baby is making you very hormonal, which is why I let it go," His expression turned from understanding to stern. "However, you must get that temper under control after the baby's born. I won't have that around my child."

Still leaning heavily on the meek card, Lana smiled sheepishly. "I understand. It won't happen again."

Oliver looked relieved and slightly suspicious at her ready agreement. "All right then. I'll bring breakfast down and join you in a moment. I got up a little early so we could finish our talk from last night. That is, if you're okay with that."

Lana shrugged, but realized she was hungry. "I'm okay with breakfast, but I'm afraid I don't have any names to suggest."

Thredson smiled warmly at her, satisfied that Lana was finally starting to get with the program. Taken her long enough. "Maybe you can do that while I'm at work today. I have a book upstairs, and you could choose five for each sex. That sound good?"

Another meek nod, and he was gone.

Lana played absentmindedly with her breakfast, letting the thick cereal drip off. Her stomach rumbled, and the little flutters that had recently made themselves known kicked in as well. As if the rumbling growls of her stomach disturbed the baby. She heard his footsteps on the cement stairs again, and quickly popped the hot cream of wheat into her mouth. Two big books were tucked under his left arm as he made his way toward her, a matching bowl in his hand.

"All righty. Now, I've already looked through these a few times, and marked by the names I approved. I don't think giving you a pencil is a good idea, so you can just fold down the page. I thought when the baby is still being nursed, I could leave a bassinet down here, so it's easier for all of us. Then I realized I don't trust you not to do something to the baby while I'm away. I suppose I could always sleep with you-"

He looked up at her as he trailed off with his horrid thought, watching as her pallid skin grew even more translucent. He smirked, knowing he'd almost pushed too far. "Relax, Lana. I think me moving in down here would make you more liable to kill our child. No, that will be difficult to arrange, but we'll figure it out," He glanced at her again, dark eyes penetrating through her, despite her guarded walls. "Lana, I seem to be doing all the talking."

The trapped woman across from him lifted her shoulders ever so slightly. "It's all slightly overwhelming. It's very strange. I've obviously never pictured my life down this road."

"Motherhood?"

"No, living by someone else's demands. Following someone else's rules instead of mine."

"You don't seem to have much regard for any rules, even your own."

Lana scraped the last bit of her breakfast out of her bowl. Gently, she folded her hands over the top of her belly, feeling encouraged by the little thumps only she could feel. She'd yet to tell him that his precious child was starting to move around more, mostly because it gave her the slightest bit of power over him. He controlled what she ate; making sure it only benefited the little human attached to her. He controlled what she saw, what she heard, and every move she made. Knowing something about his precious child that he did not, well, it wasn't much. But it was some, and the little kernel of knowledge was all she had. She froze as his hand entered her field of vision, coming much too close to her abdomen for comfort.

Every nerve sang as his fingers brushed along her belly. He smiled tenderly first at the trail of fire he'd singed along her skin before flashing it at her. "Ill be home around noon to serve you lunch. Are you craving anything in particular?"

Lana knew a simple shake of her head would only upset him. She loathed every simpering lie that she fed him to keep her heart beating in her chest. She was a survivor. It was disgusting. "One of your lovely sandwiches and some soup?"

To her surprise, Oliver crinkled his nose. "It's a bit warm out for a hot sandwich and heavy soup. It's the middle of August after all."

Lana bit back the retort that, as she was imprisoned in a basement, that she no longer concerned herself with trivial matters such as the weather. She managed to express her annoyance by pursing her lips tightly. Her non-reaction seemed clue Oliver in to his faux pau. "Well, I suppose it being warm outside doesn't really affect you, does it? Very well, then. If that's you want. I'll be home soon."

With that, her captor rejoined society for a day. Lana wasted most of her day wishing that she could walk back into her office like she had for so many mornings. At least now she would appreciate it. A sigh forced its way out of her body, and with nothing else to do, Lana hauled one of the baby books onto her lap. Her fingers danced over the pages disinterestedly. She didn't give a damn what the baby's name was. She simply didn't care. She'd do what she could to protect it, if only for the reason that it was an innocent child trapped in this horrid equation. It didn't deserve to be punished for her sins. But bestowing a name on this child didn't do anything but open the door to become attached. She couldn't love a monster's baby, innocent or not.

Michael.

John.

David.

James.

Robert.

Lisa.

Mary.

Karen.

Kimberly.

Susan.

All perfectly fine names. Maybe she'd just submit these as her suggestions. It would get him off her back for a while. What would life be like for this baby? Would it grow up visiting its mother in the dank basement? Or would Oliver slit her throat as soon as she delivered? The latter might be the preferred option for all. Her brown eyes roamed the basement, subconsciously searching for anything to get her out of here. The torture devices were gone, and Oliver was much too clever to leave anything that could be considered dangerous in arm's reach of her. Not even silverware was left down here. And then, her prayers were answered. The baby. She could pretend that something was wrong!

Oliver wouldn't dare risk his precious child's life, no matter what. He was well aware that he didn't have the knowledge to care for her if something was truly wrong. He'd have to take her to the hospital. She'd finally have a chance. She'd have to set the story up precisely. It had to exact, or he wouldn't believe her. She'd survive.

What could have been minutes or hours later, the heart stopping sounds of the locks being undone made Lana freeze. She ran over the first steps of the plan in her mind to calm herself. It didn't work. His perfectly styled hair came into her field of vision first, followed by the rest of his costume. The truly scary part of his act was simply how believable it was. Hell, it even fooled her once. But now she knew. Not one ounce of the man in front of her was to be trusted. Thredson smiled at her, as if he truly missed her. She attempted to return it, but was afraid that it came up more as a grimace.

"Afternoon, Lana. How are you?"

Lana hated how every conversation was started by pleasantries. It was all so fake and meaningless, and made her miss talking with her coworkers, friends, and… Wendy. "Just fine. I- I've chosen a selection of names, like you asked," The next lie she fed him was a stretch, a sheer attempt that even she could see through. "It made me a bit more excited."

To her shock, his soulless eyes widened in happiness. "Oh? I was hoping that would ignite it. It's exciting imagining and planning a life for a child- for our child. I wish I could show you the nursery. I've already started decorating. Gender neutral colors of course, but I feel it's going to be a son. Wouldn't that be perfect? A little Oliver Jr. maybe?"

Lana winced as if his words caused physical pain to kiss her skin. "No. I draw the line with junior. A child should have their own identity, not carry someone else's legacy."

The psychopath sitting next to her looked surprised that she'd taken a stand against him- in a positive way. "Okay then. No Oliver Junior. I don't have much time for lunch today. Briarcliff was quite the mad house today- not that that's any different from yesterday or the day before. Sister Mary Eunice has truly whipped that place into shape. I never thought that she could run a tighter ship than Jude. Speaking of the old nun, Mary Eunice has whipped her into something else too. Never thought that they great Sister Jude could go soft, but after a few electroshock treatments, I suppose anything can happen."

Lana stared at him, not comprehending what he'd said. "Wh-what? Sister Jude? She's a patient now? How?"

Oliver raised a brow. "You actually care? She held you in that hell hole against your will."

The reporter refrained from informing him of the fact the he was doing the same thing. "What happened?"

"The job finally got to her, I assume. Looking after mentally ill people can only tolerated for so long. She brutally killed a guard, and was committed by the monsignor himself," Oliver sighed, as if showing her a glimpse of the outside world was taxing. "I'll get lunch started, and we can continue talking about the baby."

Lana nodded numbly. She'd always known that there was something off with that girl. She'd always stood a bit too close to Arden's shadow. A sinister glow that lit up innocent eyes. It had always unnerved her. The people who worked at that damn asylum seemed to be more mentally unstable than the patients who unfortunately called it home. How did so many awful souls end up in that place?

Lana came to again as Oliver's footsteps echoed down the stairs. She took in a deep breath to steady her nerves, knowing that the risk she was taking was quite literally life or death. Her captor emerged again, tray laden down with food. He placed the tray across her lap as he had with every other meal, before disappearing back upstairs with warning that the soup was hot. Oliver returned with his own food as well as two glasses of water. "I thought you might be thirsty."

She smiled brightly in thanks before taking a long sip. Lana pretended not to notice his predatory eyes following her every move. Her delicate fingers wrapped around the sandwich and she quickly took a large bite. Through her mouthful of food, she praised, "It's delicious, thank you."

Oliver beamed at her words, taking quick bites of his own lunch. "I'm so glad. I do take pride in the fact that you enjoy my meals. I've always known that I was a pretty fair cook, but I didn't have anyone to share it with. You always know what to say to me, Lana. You truly are the one."

His disgusting adoration constantly sent chills down her spine. It only fueled her desire to get away from him as fast as she could. Swallowing her pride and aversion, Lana put her plan into action. She set her sandwich down carefully, trying to drudge up what excitement used to feel like."Oliver, I have some news."

Her happy tone caught his attention, and he smiled pleasantly. "Oh? Do share."

She swallowed thickly before continuing on with her charade. "The baby's starting to move around more- or at least I'm starting to feel it."

Oliver's face lit up like a child's. A wide smile split his face, and she could almost forget the twisted brain below it. "Really? Oh, Lana this is amazing." Then, without warning, his killer hands were on her belly, fingers searching eagerly for movement. Every muscle in her body went rigid, but Lana hid it well. She nodded excitedly, holding her breath. The baby was currently moving quite a bit, but from his expectant expression, he couldn't feel it.

"I'm afraid it might be still too early for you to feel. I noticed this morning, and I couldn't wait to tell you."

Suddenly crestfallen, Oliver let his hands fall from her belly. His handprints seared her skin, as if the evil in his heart had truly burned her. "Well, it's wonderful that you can feel it, I suppose," He turned eager again. "What does it feel like?"

Lana thought for a moment, considering the movement within her. "Like I've swallowed butterflies. Just little nudges, really."

Oliver closed his eyes, as if trying to imagine it. "That sounds like the most wonderful feeling in the world. I'm jealous." When his eyes popped open again, Lana could see that he truly was. He was jealous- but of who? Her, because she felt the movement or the baby because it was within her?

"Well, I don't think it will be long before you can feel them. It shouldn't be, at least."

Oliver nodded, suddenly distracted. "Yes, yes I suppose you're right. If my math is correct, you should be just shy of six months or so," His attention focused back on Lana, and a deranged smile twisted his face. "Oh, Lana, we're so close to becoming a true family. Can you feel it?"