Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun.

Interlude

10

Jonathan wasn't at the townhouse the next day. None of his stuff was, either. The books that cluttered almost every surface, the notes tacked to the cork board on the dining room wall. I didn't even need to go upstairs to know that my room would be bare, too. Our shared closet would be half empty, the bookshelf barely full instead of overflowing. It was if someone had taken whiteout to everything that was Jonathan, leaving behind an aching crevice that only seemed to get deeper.

If I thought I hurt before, it was nothing compared to this.

Thankfully, Harleen had decided to stick around rather than just dropping me off because I don't think I could have taken the reality check by myself. She put her hands on my shoulders. "You okay?"

I shrugged. "I don't know." I tried to keep my voice light but it cracked on the last syllable. "This is my fault, though. I kicked him out, not the other way around."

"Only because he was being a dick." Harl flopped down onto the couch and turned on the TV. "He'll be begging you back in no time. He scares most of the other kids here."

I laughed at that before a sobering thought crossed my brain. I still had to tell my mother. "I'm gonna call my mom, you can stay if you want. I'd like the company."

She nodded as I picked the phone off it's cradle. "Sure. I'm gonna rifle through the fridge and see what we can cook. As much as I love takeout, too much isn't good for Josephina."

I rolled my eyes at her before leaving the room and walking out onto the small wooden deck on the backside of the house. I quickly dialed my mom's number and waited for her to pick up.

"Dahlia! How are you?"

The sound of my mother's voice through the phone line instantly calmed me a little. "Not so good, Mom. We need to talk."

There was a pause. "What's wrong sweetheart?"

I took a deep breath and fought the words that were stuck in my throat. "Mama, I'm pregnant."

There was a long silence punctured by a choking sound. "Dahlia, if this is a joke, this isn't funny!"

"Jesus, Mom, do you really think I'd joke about something like this?" I ran my free hand over my face. "It's not like I had planned this either, you know."

"Let me talk to Jonathan."

And this was where it was going to get interesting. "He's not here."

"What do you mean he's not there?" My mother's normally soft voice was an octave above normal and I winced.

"He.. I kicked him out." There wasn't any use beating around the bush now. "When I told him, he threw a fit. He told me I did it on purpose to sabotage him or something. He basically called me a jealous whore so I slapped him and kicked him out."

My mother gave me a long-suffered sigh. "That boy... You are so much like your father, it's scary sometimes. Have you made a doctor's appointment yet, sweetheart?"

"Not yet, I'm going to once I get off the phone with you. You know, you're being awfully cavalier about this whole pregnancy thing, Mom."

"You're eighteen years old, Dahlia. You live on your own, have your own money, what can I say? Besides, yelling at you wouldn't be productive and it wouldn't change that fact that my baby's having a baby. God, why were you two so stupid?" The calm facade broke and I could hear her sniffling.

"Mom, I'll figure something out, okay? I promise."

"Sure." Another sniffle. "Fine. But you have to come pick me up from the airport tomorrow."

"What?" I was starting to panic. "No. Mom. No. No. No."

"Sorry, Dahlia, but if Jonathan isn't around, then you're going to need help. I'm going to get the earliest flight available." Jesus Christ, this was not going how I wanted it to go. I would have preferred anger to this. "Call me back after you call the doctor and we'll go from there, okay?"

I was in a state of shock so all I could do acquiesce and hope for the best.

The call to the doctor's office was quick and luckily for me, they had an appointment open only two days away. I had managed to not cry during the phone call, so I figured that was an improvement.

Harleen was in the kitchen at the stove so I sat on a stool by the island. She barely cast me a glance over her shoulder. "And?"

"She took it remarkably well. Well, other than she kind of broke down there at the end and called me stupid, but I guess I deserved that."

"You did." She moved a pan around on the stove and frowned. "You know, if you don't plan on selling this place, you should at least put a gas stove in. Electric sucks."

"I happen to like electric, thanks." I stuck my tongue out at her and jumped when a loud ring sounded through the townhouse.

It had scared Harleen, too. She turned, wielding a spatula. "What was that?!"

"That" I slid off the stool and paused, waiting for the nausea to subside. "Was the doorbell. I'll be right back."

"Nah," Harl threw the spatula back onto the stove. "Sit. I'll get it. Pregnant women should never answer the door, you know. What if it's a creeper or something?"

"What- Fine." I sat back down and watched her walk away before grabbed a magazine that was sitting on the island, rifling through it.

After a few seconds I heard a muffled expletive and looked up when not one but two sets of footsteps headed this way. Harleen walked through the doorway, an aggravated look on her face. "Well, I was right about the creeper part."

"Move, Quinzel." The voice made my heart hurt and seeing Jonathan did nothing to help that feeling. His eyes were cold and expressionless when he caught sight of me. "We need to talk, Dahlia."

The tone of his voice rubbed me the wrong way and I found myself glaring at him. "What exactly do we need to discuss, Jonathan?"

"You know what. Please, can we talk?" Harl didn't move so his glare focused on her instead. "In. Private."

"You know what? I really don't feel like talking to you right now, Jonathan." I stood and brushed the wrinkles out of my shirt. "In fact, I don't know if I'm ever going to feel like talking to you. Being a pregnant whore has put somethings into perspective."

Jonathan ran a hand through his mussed hair in aggravation. "Christ, Dahlia, just hear me out, alright?"

"Fine!" I slid open the sliding glass door and stomped outside, well aware of his eyes on my back as he followed. When I heard the door close again I rounded on him. "What the fuck do you want? Isn't it bad enough to knock me up and then accuse me of doing it on purpose? Need to rub some salt on the wound?"

"I'm sorry!" His face contradicted his words. His eyes were blazing in the evening sunlight as they settled on mine. "I never expected... You were on birth control.."

"Yeah, well, apparently antibiotics fuck up birth control. You're going to be a doctor, shouldn't you have known that?" I wasn't being fair but I had long given up trying to control my anger.

"Gynecology is a far cry from Pharma-Psycology! You can't blame me for this!"

"You mean like you can blame me? Goddamn it, Jonathan, do you really think I wanted to be pregnant at eighteen?" My rage slowly simmered away and I felt tears gather behind my eyes. Fuck, I really didn't want him to see me cry.

And of course, being the brilliant idiot he is, Jonathan took notice of the shift. "Dahlia, please. I... you know I'm not good at this. I let my anger get the best of me."

I let out a sigh and sat down on the warm concrete of the patio. The damned tears leaked out of my eyes and I brushed them away quickly. "Whether you meant them or not, Jonathan, I heard them. And they hurt. I'm so fucking scared right now and you just affirmed all those fears for me. So, thanks."

I kept my head down. I heard Jonathan sit down next to me, close enough for our legs to rest against each other. I pulled away. "You're not the only one who is afraid, Dahlia." His voice was soft again. It was the same voice that he used to soothe the nightmares of my father's bloody corpse. "It's not like I had a great parental influence. I've never even met my father. I don't know the first thing about being a... dad."

I laughed but it was humorless. "We're going to be awesome parents. Both of yours left. My dad was a cheater and my mom has a complex."

Jonathan took a chance and intertwined his hand with mine. I thought of pulling away again but left it alone. "Between the both of us, I think we can manage to raise a child without messing up too badly. If we do manage to give it major childhood trauma, at least there will be a psychologist close by."

"Very funny." I glanced up to see Jonathan give me a bemused smile. My heart skipped a beat and I inwardly berated myself. I was forgiving him too easily. "I'm not ready for you to move back in. Not yet. I need more time."

"Okay." Jonathan nodded, his expression somber again. "I understand. I'm staying with a friend of campus right now." I couldn't keep the look of disbelief off my face and he chuckled a little bit. "His name is Edward, he's in my Psychology course. He gave me a good verbal beating yesterday, you know. He's a narcissistic sociopath with a God complex and even he was able to see that made a huge mistake."

"Sounds like your type." I mumbled and ignored the leer he sent me. "I have a doctor's appointment in two days, Thursday. It's at two-thirty. I know you have a class, but I'd like it if you could come."

"I'll be there." His voice let it be known that it was a promise. "I'll pick you up here around one, okay? We'll get lunch and then go."

I bit my tongue. I wasn't sure about the whole date aspect but I agreed with one change. "How about I meet you at the dorm? I have to put an application at the cafe on campus anyways."

"That's fine." Jonathan seemed eager to go with whatever I wanted at this point. Shame, really. If I had known that, I would have cooked up something much more entertaining. "Edward's dorm is in Buckner Hall. Just wait for me outside and we'll go from there."

"D!" I jumped at the sound of Harleen's trill behind us. "Dinner! Get rid of the creeper! He's not invited."

Next to me Jonathan rolled his eyes to the heavens before standing. He held his hand out to me and I took it lightly. When I was standing he pulled me to him and I barely contained the surprised squeak that burst from my throat.

He pressed me to his chest and I breathed in his familiar scent that was pure Jonathan. He didn't do anything else, just rubbed small circles on my back. "We'll work through this, right?"

I pulled away slightly and stared straight into his eyes. Finding no dishonesty, I merely nodded. I couldn't trust myself to do anything more.

A sad smile crossed Jonathan's lips briefly before his planted a small kiss to my forehead and his hand lingered on my stomach. His other pressed something into my palm. "If you need anything- and I mean anything, call. If I'm not there, Edward will make sure I get the message." He pecked my nose this time and I stood as still as possible, not sure what to do. "I love you, Dahlia. I'll see you Thursday."

I watched him walk into the house, leaving the door open behind him. I vaguely heard Harl throw abuse at him, which he waved off before disappearing into the dark of the hallway. I made sure the door banged shut before I gave into the tears that were burning my eyes.

A/N: I'm so sorry for my absence! I won't bore you with the specifics but it's over now. So updating should be semi-regular again.

I was influenced heavily by Adam Lambert's Better Than I Know Myself with this chapter. Go watch the video on Youtube, he's a brilliant vocalist and I absolutely adore him.

Some of you expressed concern over D.G.'s pregnancy, worrying that it's stereotypical. I promise, this story (to me at least) is anything but stereotypical and I have a reason for everything. Just stay with me, okay guys?

Anyways, thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, alerted, everything! I love all you guys so much and I'm going to try to reply personally from now on, though my toddler sometimes gets in the way.

The next chapter should be up next week if all goes well, so keep an eye out!