I loooooooooooooove this chapter!!! My absolute favorite!!!!! I started to cry writing the end!!!! I'm such a loser :P. But anyway. Please read and review.

Trouble didn't see Holly for two days. A bit surprising, despite the circumstances. Holly rarely failed to show for class, even if she was sick. On the first day, Trouble skimmed the halls, searching for her familiar face. Though what he would say to her if he saw her, he had no idea. He saw Raiu a couple of times, and felt anger surge at the very sight of him. Thanks to magic, there was no mark on Raiu's face from Trouble's fist. But the sprite would shrink away from Trouble whenever he saw him coming. Not that Trouble was going to punch him again. Publically, anyway.

But on the second day, when Holly still wasn't turning up, he knew something was wrong. No matter what had happened between them, she would have come by now. Her absence was also noticed by several of the instructors. Wing Commander Vinyaya was greatly surprised, as Flight Session was Holly's absolute favorite class. But she marked down her absence, with the smallest skeptical expression, and had to find someone else to demonstrate takeoffs.

And by self-defense class, even Commander Root caught wind of her non-appearance.

"Hardly surprising," he growled, hiding his apparent surprise. "Couldn't take the pressure and played hooky. Should've know she'd break. Female elves can't take a whole lot of stress."

Trouble clenched his fist. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he mumbled through gritted teeth.

Root heard him comment and glared at him, his complexion reddening. "Do you have something to add, Kelp?" He crushed his cigar between his teeth as he spoke.

Trouble looked up. "No, sir," he said. Root narrowed his eyes, and then cast his gaze back to his paper-littered desk. "I just meant," Trouble continued, his anger morphing into confidence, "that it is a bit unfair of you to make those sorts of assumptions when you know very well that Holly has the best attendance in this academy. And just because she isn't here doesn't mean that she's weak. Holly Short is the strongest, most dedicated elf here, and you know it." Trouble pointed accusingly at Root as he stressed the word.

The whole room fell into an iron silence. The pre-session chatter halted, love-notes stopped in mid-pass, and flies (are there flies underground?) circling Root's ashtray were quiet, anticipating what would come next.

Root's face was so red, you could see steam radiating off of it. But instead of bursting the class's eardrums, a small, sly smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. Trouble felt his confidence die. He had seen that smile before. He was about to be very, very sad. Root smashed his cigar into his ashtray.

"Maybe you're right, Kelp," he said, in a voice much too light and perky. "Maybe I shouldn't judge her strength based on her attendance." Trouble frowned, feeling the confusion and anticipation in the air.

"No," Root continued. "I should measure strength based on the person's ability to fight." He paused dramatically. Then, suddenly, Root stepped in front of Trouble's front row chair and grabbed the poor elf by the collar, yanking him out of his seat. He pulled Trouble closer until their heads were inches apart. "Are you strong, Kelp?" His breath stung Trouble's eyes with the leftover smoke from his cigar.

The room was silent again, waiting for Trouble's answer. On a different day, Trouble would have said no, and not chanced having Root kill him in hand-to-hand combat. On a different day, he would have tolerated Root's sexist comments with no problems. On a different day, Holly would be beside him, giving the commander hell about one thing or another.

But this wasn't a different day.

Today, Trouble looked Commander Root straight in the eye and said, "Yes."

By the end of class, both Trouble and Root had to be examined by medical warlocks.

Where was Holly during all of this, you ask? Same place she had been for the past thirty hours: in her room.

After Trouble had left, and after an hour of trying to stop her tears, Holly had fumbled through her drawer, pulled on the first clothes she touched, and sat cross-legged on her bed again. And there she sat, never moving, never speaking, for over a day. Was something wrong with her? Well, not in so many words.

The first of her problems was that she couldn't get the smell of alcohol and sweat out of her nostrils. It constantly suffocated her senses, always reminding her of the mistakes she had made. Not to mention the fact that she could barely remember anything.

Her second problem was that, well, she was hungry. She had sat on her bed for over a day, nothing to eat, no sleep. But she didn't have any more food in her small refrigerator by her bed and she wasn't about to face anyone by going to the cafeteria. She would probably just throw any food up anyway.

The third of Holly's problems requires a little fairy lesson to explain it. As we have learned, elves are very emotional creatures. Deeply connected to feelings and life. They will feel sad even by the smell of death. And because of their bond with life, they have the ability to sense it. Not all life, though. Only the specific lives of people, other animals, or something they may have loved. If a loved one is sick, an elf that cares immensely for them can sense it. If the loved one dies, that elf is the first person to know. They can feel it. Because of this, elfin mothers don't require a trip to the doctor's to know if they bear a child. They automatically sense it, even, for the elves more deeply in touch with life, at the precise moment of conception. For others, it takes less than a day to sense it.

That was Holly's "problem". She was simply pregnant.

Now, when I say "simply", of course it is highly exaggerated. To Holly, it was everything but simple. She was only three decades old, and training to be a police officer, for Frond's sakes. She was not ready to take on the responsibility of being a mother. She wasn't exactly what you would call a "natural-born mother", despite her being an elf. She could barely take care of herself, let alone a child. Something so delicate in the hands of the likes of Holly.

Which brought Holly to face a huge decision. Keep the baby or give it up for adoption. The force of the realization brought stinging tears to Holly's eyes. She knew very well that she couldn't do either. Keeping the baby was entirely out of the question to her. She was in school, about to become a police officer. And if she ever revealed the fact that she was pregnant to the school, she would be kicked out for sure, leaving the baby with a mother that has no job, and no crutch. Her parents would kill her if they found out. So would Trouble. There was no doubt that it was his. This scared Holly. What would Trouble think?

And Holly just knew that if she had the baby, she wouldn't be able to give it up for adoption. Elves rarely ever did. They would grow so attached to it that they wouldn't be able to give it up. Holly knew she would be the same.

Holly slightly startled herself by sighing shakily. She felt so distant from herself, and even more distant than the delicate life growing inside her. With a deep breath, Holly slid the material of her shirt up to reveal her belly. The evidence of her pregnancy was not yet visible, but Holly could just imagine the smallest form inside her, developing slowly into a little elf. She gently ran her fingers over the skin of her belly, shaking with suppressed sobs.

A third option had just slithered its way into Holly's mind. Holly thought it so evil, it brought tears to her eyes that dripped onto her hand. She couldn't. But what else could she do? Holly felt utterly helpless. She needed comfort. She put her shirt back down and picked up a maroon pillow from the edge of her bed, burying her face in it. Her room dully echoed with her muffled sobs as she let the flood of emotion run through her. She knew it was the only choice. She simply couldn't take care of the baby.

With a sniffle and a sob, she took the pillow away from her face, wiping tears from her hazel eyes. She lifted her shirt back up and held her belly lightly again. Before she knew what she was doing, Holly started to talk to the little one growing inside her.

"Hey, you," she whispered hoarsely, with a voice she didn't recognize. "I know you're in there. I feel you in there. And I already love you." Holly's voice broke and tears came to her eyes again. "You don't know how precious you are to me. And it's only been a few hours. My only regret… is that you got me for a mother. I don't deserve you. You are too special. I can feel it. My baby…I love you so much."

Holly's breaths shuddered and she trembled with sadness. "That's why I am so sorry for what I have to do. I hate myself for it. You would have been great. And I have no right to do it. But there is no other way." She stroked her belly shakily as she talked and cried. "I am so sorry. You deserve so much greater than me. Please forgive me, little one. You are so perfect, and I love you. Please forgive me."

Holly's body shook violently with her sobs. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally. She laid down, and with trembling fingers, shut her lamp off. She sat in the darkness, stroking her belly and whispering, "I love you. Please forgive me," over and over again, until she sank slowly into a restless sleep.

Tomorrow, she would call the doctor.

Was that not the sweetest thing you ever saw? *sniff*