I'm still salty about the ending of Apocalypse. Anyone else?

…

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. –Jeremiah 29:11

"Do you agree?"

Mary Eunice looked up sadly, her soft porcelain hands rested protectively over the life that was protruding from under her plain blue dress. They looked identical to the ones at Briarcliff, just looser and longer. One year ago she was wearing a thin framed black habit, her figure was like a frail stick, and back then she would never have imagined that this would become her reality.

Being here, not as a member of the staff but as a resident. With fuller breasts, swollen feet, and stretch marks around her navel, hips, and thighs.

She could remember so clearly meeting Pepper for the first time. The poor child with ears that stuck out like her belly did now. She missed that old girl. And the bakery, sometimes she could close her eyes and remember the smell of bread filling her lungs and her mouth watering at the softness. She missed Dr. Arden, the most misunderstood person she'd ever known. Her loyalty to him went almost as far as it did to the Lord. But most of all, she missed Sister Jude. The mother she never had, the voice in the back of her mind when she was doubting herself. She missed feeling her sense of purpose at the asylum. Briarcliff was a house of monsters and maniacs to others, but never to her.

It was her home. And it was her calling.

"Mary Eunice? I asked you if you agreed. A child needs a mother and a father."

Her head turned from the older nun in order to keep her composure, a child needed a mother and a father. She agreed, with great heartache. Her cheeks were still stained from all the tears she had been shedding that morning.

"I agree. A child needs a mother and a father."

"Good, Sister," she said with a smile. It almost made Mary Eunice cringe. She wanted nothing more than for things to go back to the way they were. Back to a time where she had her name and her reason for being.

The name that was stolen from her. Her virtue, destroyed along with any hope of ever restoration.

"Are you ready to sign, now?" the older nun asked sliding the document towards her on the desk. Mary Eunice could barely stand to look at it. The document, with the seal of the state, the signature line that would kill any last part of the soul that was once her. She would never be ready to sign it. Maybe to others it was living proof of her indiscretions and blasphemy, but to her it was indeed a symbol of hope. That life could go on despite how one's soul could be once damned from heaven. It wasn't something that she could just dismiss by writing it off as pure chance. Could this be how it was all supposed to happen?

But time was running out, as was Mother Claudia's patience.

The fact was when everything would be all said and done, a baby needed more than just the love she had in her heart. It needed so much more than that. She couldn't put a roof over it's head, or clothe it. When she took her vows, the only thing she carried was her name. And even that was gone. Sister Mary Eunice couldn't be a mother because she had literally nothing in the entire world.

She slid forward to the edge of the seat, her swollen breasts sat on top of her stomach. The pen, it laid right there next to the paper. Her hand picked it up and her insides twisted wildly. The blue eyes that looked down on the bottom line were blurry from tears. This was more painful than anything she had experienced ever. Even when she was possessed by the devil, this already had caused more tears.

And then she felt a strong kick against her other hand that still was holding the area that harbored her child. It was healthy and fast. It began to move around, perhaps it was waking up.

It did this sometimes. It wouldn't move for hours and hours and then it would suddenly begin kicking, startling her into quiet giggles. She imagined that it was a way of saying, "Hello, I'm here."

Her baby, she would never be ready to say good-bye. They often talked to her about how much better it would be, not just for the child but for her as well. The two of them off to a fresh start; with a child she most certainly could never return to the order, and she would not be employable. It made no sense to try to fight it. The best thing for both would be to separate, or at least that's what they all said.

But no matter how many times she tried to convince herself of that, she never would.

Her mouth dropped, letting out a tiny gasp.

"Not yet," she said standing up and stumbling out of the room as fast as she possibly could. Leaving the office and walking down the hall she covered her stomach with her arms. She protected it as if someone was going to rip the child right out of her. She couldn't sign those papers, at least not right now.

"O Lord, Jesus Christ, Redeemer and Saviour, forgive my sins…"

She stopped when she got to her room and slammed the door closed. She never slammed doors, but she couldn't close it fast enough. With her back against the wall, she let her chest break into inconsolable sobs.

"Please don't ask this of me," she prayed out loud. If there was any way…any way at all. This child was her new reason for being alive. She was thankful for it, a baby. Every backache, every wave of nausea reinforced her humanity. She was a human, not a demon anymore. She was a woman, with a broken soul and a scarred mind. As she looked down and rested her hand where it was kicking, she knew that she couldn't afford to give it away too. Not when she loved it so much already.

Lighting a candle and falling to her knees in desperation she did the only thing she still knew how to do: pray.

Because if being possessed by the devil and falling three stories didn't kill her, losing this child surely would.

…

To continue or not? Let me know in a review if I should go on because it's either going to be this or a Ghostbusters fic next. Thanks for reading!