A/N: Warning! This story contains spoilers for the season finale of The Secret Life of the American Teenager and/or the upcoming second season! Please click the Back button now if you do not wish to be spoiled! (And for those who choose to read this fic, please note that this is only my interpretation of how things could go with Anne's "revelation," but not necessarily how they will go!) Also, the title comes from the song "Courage Is," which was used on TSL commercials back in the first half of season one.

Keep On Moving

Anne Juergens slumped over stacks of haphazardly organized receipts on the kitchen table. The shadows covered her and the kitchen like an itchy blanket, and every few moments, she'd twitch. Her light red hair, tousled and almost a deep auburn in the darkness, brushed against the receipts each time she moved, creating a sound akin to crunching leaves in autumn. Except for the twitching, the only other sound in the room was that miniscule click of the skinny clock hand as it counted down the seconds.

"Mom?"

Anne jumped up instantly, her face flushed even in the shadows. A receipt clung to her cheek as she whipped her head around in search of the voice. "Amy?"

Amy Juergens padded silently into the kitchen. She sported dark circles under her eyes and a vicious case of bed head. "What are you doing up this early?" she asked, glancing at the wall clock.

"What time is it?" Anne failed to keep the yawn out of her voice.

"Just after three in the morning."

Anne frowned. "I could ask you the same thing."

Amy moved to her mother's side and plucked the defiant receipt from her Anne's face. She glanced down at it and then at the table, where she saw it cluttered with others just like it. She also noticed the calculator and checkbook. "The baby," she answered distractedly. "I just got done feeding him." She set the receipt on the table and folded her arms over her chest. "Now how about you?"

"I was going over our finances." Anne slumped her shoulders forward and stared dismally at the table.

"Why?"

"You just had a baby and you're asking me that?"

"But you got a job." Amy slid into the chair across from her mother. "And I have a job. And Ashley's moved in with Dad. So I don't understand, why are you worried about-"

"I may not have my job for much longer."

Amy blinked. "What?" Her dark eyebrows knit together in concern. "Why not? Did you and David have a fight? What happened?"

"That's not it," Anne sighed. "David didn't do anything."

"Then why are you afraid of losing your job?"

Anne's lips pursed together, forming into a hard, thin line. "Babies are extremely expensive, Amy."

"I know that! We've had this talk a lot. And I told you, I'm shaping up. I'm going to work hard, Mom. I'm gonna support him-"

"It's not your son that I'm worried about, Amy."

"Then what are you worried about?" She threw her arms into the air. "I'm so confused! What aren't you telling me?"

"Amy." Anne flexed her fingers, then tightened them into a stone fist. "I have something I need to tell you…I wish Ashley were here though, this affects her too."

"Your job?"

"No."

"Please, Mom. Just spit it out!"

"Amy…I'm pregnant."

Amy's jaw slackened. "Wh…" Her eyes slid from her mother's face, down her throat, and finally came to a screeching halt at her abdomen.

Anne looked down in time with Amy and her hand instinctively moved to her stomach.

Amy's jaw clenched. "What?" She began to shake her, her face becoming darker in the shadows. "No. That's impossible. You're a grandmother! You can't be pregnant!"

"I'm sorry-"

"No you're not!" Amy hissed stubbornly. "You're not sorry because you're not pregnant! I," she pointed her finger at herself, "was pregnant. You aren't. You can't be!"

"I know it's not fair-"

"Mom!"

"Amy!" Anne suddenly rose to her feet, looking quite ominous and commanding, like a soldier in the shadows. "Listen to me! This isn't what I wanted either, but it doesn't make it any less true."

Amy's bottom lip quivered, her eyes as silent as her voice. When she spoke again, it was in a whisper: "You're sure then?"

"I had it confirmed by the doctor yesterday."

Amy looked to the floor. "How long?"

"About three months, give or take-"

"Three months?!" Her voice had sprung back up like a coil. "How could you know for three months and not tell us?!"

"I just found out!"

"You couldn't have just found out! Three months, Mom! Morning sickness, your period-"

"I didn't have morning sickness," Anne responded quietly. "I only had morning sickness when I was pregnant with you, not with Ashley, and not this time either. And my period…well, it was irregular for a month or two prior…I'd seen a doctor about it, but she told me it was normal. The spotting and irregular cycle was supposed was stress induced, she said…so I didn't think anything of it until recently, when I realized I was gaining weight…and craving things…things I'd only ever craved when I was pregnant with you and Ashley."

"How could I have not noticed this?" She stared blankly. "The divorce…and you Dad, I didn't think-" She pinched her eyes together. "Does Dad even know?" She watched curiously as Anne flinched and looked away. "He doesn't."

"No-"

"You have to tell him-"

"It's not that simple-"

"You're not thinking of getting an abortion, are you?"

"No!"

"Then what's so hard about it?"

"It's not his!"

Amy's face froze like a statue. "David's?"

"We haven't even known each other that long."

"Whose?"

"It was someone I used to know a long time ago…he moved away when you and Ashley were just toddlers." Anne shamefully stared at the floor. "I ran into him in Chicago, when I went to help Mimzy get on the right flight."

"You cheated on Dad!"

Anne's eyes flashed. "He cheated on me! We were over the minute he cheated on me, Amy."

"And yet he's not the one having a child with someone else!"

Anne winced back from the sharp bladed words. "I wish I could take it back," she breathed, "but I can't…and I don't believe in destroying this innocent life," she cupped her hand protectively over her stomach, "for my mistake. I'm sorry! I know that this is unfair…it's unfair to all of you…but-but-" Her voice faded into the shadows, replaced instead by tears and a choking sob. She slid back into her chair, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry!"

Amy cringed. She feathered her finger across her lips, shocked by the poison of her words. A tear flew down her cheek, followed by another and another. Soon she was crying in time with Anne. She leaned forward and wrapped her shaking arms around her mother's quivering frame. "I'm sorry too," she whimpered. "I didn't mean…I'm just…"

"I know." Anne stroked her hand through Amy's silky hair.

Amy sniffed. "It's gonna be okay," she wheezed. "We can get through this. We'll just help each other. We can do it together." She could feel her mother nodding in the crook of her shoulder.

"Together?"

Amy squeezed her mother harder than she'd ever remembered doing before. "Yeah, you and I. We'll make it work somehow. I know we can."