(Author's note: Carole's backstory came to me when I was plotting Fingers of Your Fire. You'll see some familiar characters from other parts of the Donutverse here, because there are infinite ways to overlap my OCs with Glee canon. In order to resolve the timeline issues between Glee's declaration that Finn's father fought against Saddam Hussein (implying the 1990-1991 Gulf Conflict) and the fact that Finn must be born in 1994 in order to graduate from high school in 2012, I changed Christopher Hudson's involvement to Operation Southern Watch, also in Iraq. Thanks to songirl77 for tossing plotbunnies at me. Enjoy. -amy)

May 1993

It honestly didn't occur to Carole that she might be pregnant. She thought girls who got pregnant would just start throwing up, and that would be the clue. Based on every television show or movie she'd ever read, everybody got nauseated and dizzy and tired. She didn't have any of that. Her boobs were kind of tender, but it wasn't enough for her to worry about it. She missed her period, but when she was deep in track-and-cross-country season, that happened every now and then anyway.

It was her best friend Rebecca who made the comment that caused her to wonder. It was while they were trying on dresses for prom.

"I thought you were a six?" she said, when Carole came out of the changing room.

"I am," she said, holding out her arms in front of the mirror, inspecting herself in the red strapless. "What's wrong with it?"

"Tummy bulge," Rebecca said, and reached around to pat her stomach. "Try the eight, unless you don't think your tits can fill it out."

"My tits will manage just fine, thank you," she said absently. She stared at the body parts in question. Was she heavier? It could just be water weight, lurking before her late period.

Rebecca didn't even think to ask if it could have been something else, because everybody knew just how devout Christopher was, and that he and Carole had decided to wait until they were married to have sex. But Carole knew better.

She thought about it all through lunch. By the time they'd finished their frozen yogurt, Carole took a deep breath and turned to Rebecca. "I have to stop at the drugstore."

"Mmmkay," Rebecca said.

"For a pregnancy test."

She stared at Carole, her eyes widening, and then she clutched at her arm. "You're shitting me," she gasped.

"I don't know," Carole moaned, hiding her face in her hand. "I mean – yes, we are, and yes, I could be, but… we've been really careful, and –"

"Carole!" Rebecca shrieked, drawing attention from the neighboring tables. "You decided this and you didn't tell me?"

"He asked me not to." She gave Rebecca a pleading glance. "You can't tell anyone."

"Girl, if you're really pr-"

"Shhhh," Carole hissed, flailing her hands.

"Pregnant," Rebecca whispered, "then there ain't anyone going to need me to tell them in another month. You're a stick." She wrinkled her brow. "Did this happen on spring break?"

She nodded. "I counted the number of days since my last period, and everything, but…"

"Carole." Rebecca's accusing eyes bored into her. "Are you saying you didn't use condoms?"

The word condoms traveled three tables away, and Carole glanced around nervously. "Christopher said – come on, Rebecca, you know we're Catholic."

"Not Catholic enough not to have premarital sex, but Catholic enough to do it stupidly?" Rebecca sighed loudly. "You are such a moron."

"Gosh, thanks for your support," Carole muttered. Rebecca took her arm and pulled her to her feet, dumping her empty yogurt container in the trash.

"Come on, let's get this over with. Maybe it's nothing." She gazed at Carole. "But you don't think it is, do you?"

"No," she admitted. "But it could be nothing."

But it wasn't nothing. Carole took the positive pregnancy test home with her, and did another one the next day just to be sure, and when that one was positive too, she thoroughly hid them from her parents and ignored the issue for the next few days.

In the end, though, Carole wasn't one to hide from anything for long, even something as complicated and incendiary as this. She told her mother first, and, white-lipped and shaking, they told her father together. He took it about the way she thought he would.

"We're going to take care of this, Carole," he said quietly, his face still as stone, and he laid a hand on her shoulder. "There's no reason this should cause your family grief. You'll stay with your grandmother Daniels until the baby's born, and then we'll find a home for it, and you'll come home."

Rebecca cried when Carole told her about it. "Aren't you furious, being sent away?" she asked.

Carole thought about it. "Not exactly," she said. "I'm just kind of relieved."

"But Atlanta," Rebecca persisted. "That's so far away."

"I can put off college another year."

The truth was, Carole didn't much care about college right then. All she could think about was getting out of Lima, for a whole summer. For the rest of the year. It was completely, unconscionably appealing.

"What about the baby?" Rebecca asked.

"What about it?" Carole wasn't particularly interested in waiting out the pregnancy, but there was no way she was going to kill her unborn child. "I'll put it up for adoption. I'm just not ready to be a mother. Christopher and I can have babies after college, when we're both ready."

Christopher's reaction was, unfortunately, entirely opposed to her father's. "Carole, we should get married," he said adamantly. "Right now. We're both graduating in a month. There's no reason for us not to raise this baby together."

"My father said no," she said, and for Carole, that was pretty much the way it was going to be, because if her father said something, that was as close to absolute truth as one could get. "You can come visit me, when you're on leave."

Christopher had joined the Marines in February, ready to serve in Iraq as soon as he was allowed to go. Carole was proud of him, but she wished now she'd talked him into waiting.

"Do you think you could defer it for another year?" she said hopefully. "I'm going to miss you so much."

"I can't do that." He really sounded sad about this, but for the last two weeks of school, his affections with her seemed hesitant, even perfunctory. She could sense that he was pulling away. They went to prom together, and they danced and smiled and did all the things they were supposed to do, and then they had their finals, and then there were three more days before graduation.

Christopher came over for dinner that Wednesday night. Her parents had always approved of him, but her father's manner was decidedly cool now. Her mother helped them with the dishes afterwards and gave Christopher an apologetic shoulder squeeze.

"We're looking forward to having you as part of our family," she whispered, sounding hopeful, and he smiled and nodded. But that was the second to last time she saw Christopher before she left for Atlanta.

The last time was in her bedroom. Her trunk and suitcases were nearly packed, had been for days. She was slowly taking down the detritus of her highschool years and packing it into boxes, knowing that even after she returned to Dayton, she wouldn't be making this her home anymore. Time to put away childish things, she thought, holding her stuffed Dalmatian close to her chest, and felt a stab of unease. Or maybe that was the baby, making her nauseated at last?

"Carole," she heard, and looked up to see Christopher in the doorway, taking a tentative step in. He held out a bouquet of flowers.

"Lilies," she said, and smiled as she took them.

"I know they're your favorite." He didn't come any further. She realized he was wearing his uniform.

"You're leaving?"

He nodded. "Tonight." She thought he looked like he might want to bolt right then, but he didn't. He just stood there, not speaking, not smiling. Her hand automatically went to her stomach, as it had been more and more lately. He watched her touch her belly.

"It doesn't bother you at all?" he wanted to know. She frowned.

"Bother me that my father wants me to have a life, instead of being tied down with a child right away?" She shook her head, setting the flowers on her desk. The stuffed dog she'd been holding went on top of the pile of memorabilia to pack away. "How can I feel bad about that? Besides, he's my father. He wants what's best for me."

"What's best for him, maybe. Not what's best for us." Christopher looked annoyed, which was an uncommon expression for him. She wasn't quite sure what to do with it.

"You think we should get married tomorrow? Run off together? You can't even do that, honey. Why should I pretend otherwise? I'm going to have to wait for you, no matter what." She sat heavily on the edge of her bed, and he joined her, the suitcase between them. They could have moved the suitcase, but it wouldn't have changed anything.

She took a deep breath. "Am I going to see you again?"

His eyes were solemn. "Do you want to?"

"Yes," she said. "Of course I do. I still want all the things we promised to one another. I still want to marry you and have children with you."

"Five," he said, with a little smile. "Four boys and a girl. And the girl should be youngest, because –"

"She'll take care of her big brothers," she joined in on the last few words, and they laughed together. He leaned in and kissed her.

"I have your grandparents' address," he said. "And you'll have your cell phone with you?"

The last thing he said to her before he walked out was, "That stuffed dog – I gave you that, right?" She nodded, and he picked it up from the box. "Can I have it?"

Carole hadn't planned on crying, but she blinked back tears as she nodded again, trying hard not to say I wanted to keep that. After all, she had a piece of him with her already, inside her, growing into a tiny human being. He deserved to keep the dog, if that's what he wanted.

After he left, she decided she was done packing for the night, and she lay down on top of the covers, hand on her still-flat belly, and closed her eyes, resolving not to feel alone.