Chapter Two

Dēflectō

(To weep bitterly for)

"Carly? Carly? Are you alright in there?"

The man with uncontrollably curly brown hair stood on the other side of the bathroom door and knocked again.

"Carly?"

He sounded a little more worried as he spoke her name again.

"Carly! You're freaking me out here, honey; say something or I'm going to have to break the door in".

There was silence for a moment and Spike then heard movement, the lock on the door unclicked and his wife stood before him with tears in her eyes.

"Spike…"

She blubbered as she fell into his arms, her wet face burying into his shoulder.

He didn't have to ask what the problem was as his eyes were drawn to the blood covered toilet seat and multiple towels lying around the floor. He sighed inwardly and tried to hold back his own tears and regrets.

"I know you want another… but I just can't take it any more… I've lost fourteen Spike. Fourteen!"

"Alright… I understand. Maybe when you've had time we can talk about adopting. I have a trip to China coming in January; maybe we can look at options from there. You always said you wanted a girl".

Carly seemed to calm down somewhat when he replied. She nodded bleakly and then pulled back from her husband.

"Guess we better to head to the hospital".

She said as she picked up one of the bloody towels and dropped it in the bath tub.

The man watched his wife go through the motions.

--

The young nurse handed Carly the consent for the D&C to remove any remaining products of conception that her tired body had been unable to dispel, as the emergency doctor phrased it so tactlessly. She wiped a tear from her eye and signed on the line with the green pen she had been handed. Spike was aware of his wife asking the nurse about the return of any of the "baby" that was left. The nurse shrugged, said she didn't know, made some harsh comment about why the hell would she want a few shreds of placenta and maybe half a blob back? Carly burst into more weeping and Spike cradled her gently, glaring with disgust at the nurse. The woman took that as a sign, took the form and left the room.

They didn't need to be given any miscarriage support group brochures as they had a pile at home. They also didn't really need the surgeon to sit down and explain the procedure and what was the purpose, as this wasn't the first D&C Carly had been through for this reason. The surgeon further explained there might be a wait as there had been a gynae emergency and all the theatres were in use, so maybe a few hours before it would be her turn, he reminded her to not eat or drink and then said the nurse would direct them to where to wait. Again, all info Spike had had before. Carly looked tired and lay back down pulling the flimsy sheet over her form and closing her eyes attempted to get some sleep. Spike told her something about wanting a coffee and left.

This was one portion of his life that he and Carly kept from their Autobot friends. Carly and Spike had wanted more then one child. Carly had wanted at least 3, Spike wanted more. Spike had a brother Buster, but he was a lot older and hadn't had a lot to do with Spike. The young man felt somewhat empty, growing up he had a lot of friends, but after the loss of his mother he really start to feel short changed by being essentially an only child. He had a lot of envy for his friends and cousins who had multiple siblings. Carly had an older sister and two younger brothers and loved every moment of it. Even Chip had a sibling, a girl two years younger who would run pushing the computer genius in his chair like she was possessed by some speed demon.

Spike found his coffee, a machine that trickled out a barely drinkable ooze of brown into soft cups that didn't quite offer enough protection from the heat. Spike decided against asking for milk from a machine. He walked outside and stood by the lane that led into the ambulance bay and immediately gave thought to the likes of First Aid and Ratchet. There was another man standing near by having a smoke and drinking coffee which had come from the shop across the street – judging by the logo on the cup.

"Good?"

The man asked Spike as he noted the location of his coffee.

"Good for shit from a machine".

Spike grumbled, not in any mood to discuss any thing with anyone, and hoping his demeanour and tone belayed that.

"Riiiiiiight".

The other picked up on that, and took a drag from his cigarette.

"My cousin just died in there, so you don't need to get all snippy with me".

He added as he blew out a cloud of smoke which was evidence of how stale his current pack was.

Spike said nothing for a moment, took a gentle sip from his coffee and looked over at the man.

"Sorry".

He wasn't sure what else to say, really.

"Sort of serves the dumb prick right. We warned him not to fuck around with that shitty motorcycle of his, certainly not try to see what kind of speed he can get out of it".

"Oh…"

"He ploughed into a tree, thank God".

Spike turned fully to face the man and raised an eyebrow.

"You're happy he ploughed a tree?"

"Absolutely! Last thing any of us could live with would be if he ploughed into a family of five in their station wagon or an old lady walking her poodle along the road".

Spike got the idea and turned back to leaning against the wall of the building.

"My wife just miscarried".

"Oh man, I'm so sorry".

"This makes fourteen!"

"Wooh".

"Fourteen! Holy shit! I knew it was a lot but I certainly didn't think she was keeping score".

Saying the number didn't make it any more real for the man, he simply took another swig from the cup and contemplated upon what that really meant… fourteen. He never would have had fourteen children, as the timing wouldn't have worked out. Carly fell pregnant easily enough, even with IVF, but there was just something going wrong, every time she reached about 10 weeks she'd loose the child. She'd made it to 13 weeks last time.

They'd been to a number of specialists, clinics and adoption agencies in an attempt to further their dreams of a larger family, but all had fallen short. Spike oftentimes wondered if their pursuit of future siblings for Daniel was actually resulting in them neglecting him. Carly's distress after each miscarriage didn't seem to help him much, she didn't focus on him. He was almost 15 now and perhaps it was time to call it quits on these attempts. Carly and Spike had been quite young when Daniel was conceived, perhaps the only reason they actually wed was because of her falling with Daniel. Carly had actually wanted an abortion but nosey old Wheeljack scanned her one morning when she was outside the Arc throwing up behind a few rocks. And while Spike told her Wheeljack and the Autobots probably wouldn't care if they found out about a termination, she was still too embarrassed to actually risk going through with it. Of course, the moment Daniel looked up at his mother, his tiny pink hands clasping her fingers, his little pink face scrunching up as he began to cry for milk, any thoughts of regret passed and she loved him with an intensity any good mother would hold. There was no problem with Daniel's pregnancy, it progressed normally, text book as the midwife had stated. The problems started after Carly's second pregnancy.

The second child came into their lives a year after Daniel had entered their lives. Carly was spending more time at home so no nosey Autobots to scan. His wife had been so excited, Spike too. But at their first scan to confirm the pregnancy at 8 weeks something gave the medical professionals something to concern themselves over. At 16 weeks the diagnosis was confirmed. Trisomy 21. Better known to the community as Downs Syndrome. They argued back and fourth for about over a month as to whether to continue with the pregnancy. Carly wanted more children absolutely, but thought it really unfair on Daniel to bring into the family a disabled sibling, a child who would demand a lot more time and care. Spike was of the mindset that if they could have one Downs child when Carly was so young and both of them had no family history of the condition, then really, what was the chance of having another Downs child later? Spike argued they might as well have the child and look at adoption if they wanted another. Carly debated that an abortion of the child would be best for all concerned and if they did later on have another pregnancy of a Downs child then they could keep it as Daniel would hopefully be older. In the end, at 23 weeks and 7 days, Carly walked into the late term clinic and with Spike at her side, their unborn child, who they wanted very much, they just didn't want the Downs, an intact dilation and extraction was performed. Spike had a range of good friends, one such an abortionist who Spike had been best friends with as children and into High school, the man opened up shop, so to speak, after hours, at about 2 in the morning in the hope to avoid the protestors and any camera man who might like to follow around the Ambassador of Earth. It also provided a child that was essentially intact and could be cradled and sobbed over and placed in a small coffin and buried out the back of their property. Spike told anyone who asked that the cord had become rapped around the baby's neck and the little girl had died in the womb. This warranted sympathy and more importantly, no follow up questions.

Ever since then, Carly had been unable to maintain her pregnancies. One of the specialists they saw said uterine scarring caused by the termination was essentially starving the children that tried to grow in her womb. After that comment Carly obtained a new specialist, she never spoke of it. Never talked about it, and certainly didn't want the abortion to be the reason for her following miscarriages.

Spike finished his coffee, dropped the cup in the bin and walked back inside, ignoring the man who smoked and was nattering away about his wife's cousin's hairdresser's dog's veterinarian's neighbour's minister's daughter's friend's mother's boss who had heaps of miscarriages and the reason was something to do with eating too many shell fish or something that Spike just didn't listen too or cared to register.