Wow! You guys are really divided on the issue of whether or not Kate should have the baby. I can see both sides, so hopefully the solution I've come up with will be satisfying to everyone. Don't worry though -- whatever she decides, Jack will support her, in fact, he may actually be instrumental to her decision...

Chapter 14. Baby Talk

When Kate woke the next morning, her head was throbbing, like someone was using a jackhammer on the inside of her skull. She couldn't open her eyes, so she lay very still, trying not to set it off by moving.

She could feel the warmth of another body pressed against hers; in a dizzying rush, the events of the night before flooded back to her: how she'd gone to the party looking for Jack, but found she couldn't face him sober, how she'd tried to jump him in his dorm room, how even though she'd hurt him, he'd followed her home and stayed with her through one of the worst nights of her life.

It was humiliating, knowing that he'd seen her at such a low point, but it was also strangely comforting. Even so, she was tempted to keep feigning sleep until he got up and went back to campus, but she knew that she'd have to face him eventually, so with a sigh of resignation, she eased her eyes open.

Looking around, she realised that she must have rolled over during the night, because, while she remembered falling asleep with Jack spooning her, they were now chest to chest, her body curled in towards his. It should have been awkward, especially after their encounter last night, but she found that she liked being so close to him, even after everything that had happened. She felt safe there, in his arms, like no one, not even Wayne, could ever hurt her again.

"Hey," he said softly when he saw that she was awake.

"Hey." She smiled when he leant over her, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to her lips. He didn't seem to be mad, in fact, it was as if everything they'd been through in the last twenty-four hours had somehow brought them closer together. "What time is it?"

"It's just after ten." He settled back down, seemingly unfazed by this piece of information.

"What? Ten? Are you sure?" Feeling a surge of panic run through her, Kate struggled to sit up, cringing when she was rewarded with another jolt of pain. "I should've been at the diner hours ago," she said meekly, flopping back against her pillow until she was brave enough to try again.

So this is what a hangover feels like, she thought. She'd never had one before, and now, she knew why.

"It's okay," he said, running his fingers lightly over her hair to soothe her. "I called and told them you wouldn't be able to make it."

"Why would you do that?" It was sweet that he still wanted to take care of her, but Kate couldn't help feeling a little defensive. She didn't like other people making decisions for her.

"Because you had a rough night," he explained, so reasonably that it irritated her because she couldn't argue. "You're pregnant, and I'm guessing, hungover – I figured between the two, you were going to feel like death warmed up this morning."

She gave him a defiant look, trying to prove him wrong by sitting up, but as soon as she did, her head starting throbbing again, and her stomach revolted. "You're right – I think I'm going to be sick!"

She made it to the bathroom just in time, only dimly aware that he'd followed her in. "Great, that was definitely something I wanted you to see," she told him, wiping her mouth and accepting the glass he offered her when she was done.

"If I'm going to be a doctor, I'm going to see a lot worse." He smiled sympathetically as he took it took it back from her, setting it on the floor beside them.

"Speaking of which, shouldn't you be in class?" She gave him a serious look as she sat back against the wall, hating the idea that even after she'd tried to protect him, he was still putting his future at risk for her. "I mean, maybe all that alcohol scrambled my brain, but I thought you said you had classes like fourteen hours a day?"

"I blew them off," he said, his voice uncharacteristically dismissive. "They're not important." He was trying to make light of it, but she could tell from the guilt in his eyes that it was bothering him.

"You've been doing that a lot lately," she told him, concerned. He just didn't seem like the kind of guy who got a kick out of shirking his commitments.

"What?"

"Cutting class."

"Oh." He stared down at the tiles, fidgeting with the glass. "I did some work over the summer, so I'm ahead in most of my courses. I'm still waiting for everyone else to catch up."

Kate wasn't sure that was entirely true, but she decided to let it go now that she'd made her disapproval known.

"You really should eat," he said as they left the bathroom, changing the subject to break the awkward silence that had fallen between them.

"I'm fine – I'm not hungry," Kate said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, wondering what she was going to do with herself now that she had an entire day off. She still didn't feel well, but at the same time, she wasn't sure she wanted to sit around for the next two or three months waiting for it to pass.

"I know, but you need to eat – for the baby," he said gently, taking her hand, but she jerked it away. Why did he have to keep bringing that up?

"Stop calling it that."

"Stop calling what what?"

"Stop calling it 'the baby' like it's a person," she said, standing up from the bed, wishing that he would stop being so understanding. She wanted him to hate it, like she did. It would make everything a lot easier. "A baby is something people have when they're in love. This," she put a hand over her still flat stomach for emphasis, "is an infection, a disease…"

"Something to be cured, right?" He softened his tone, making it hard for her to hold onto her anger. But she had to; she needed to. "So that's what you're going to do? You're going to get rid of it – you're not even going to consider keeping it yourself?"

"Why would I? I never asked for this, Jack. I'm not even sure I'm mother material. It's not like I had the best role model." Kate felt like bursting into tears as she thought of her own mother, probably worried sick back at the diner in Iowa. In spite of the grudge she still harboured against her, she wished she could go home and crawl into her arms. That was what you were supposed to do when something like this happened. Mothers were supposed to make your life better, not worse.

"So you want to be like her?" Jack continued, bringing her back to the moment. "Selfish? Putting what you want ahead of your child?"

"It's not my anything, Jack – it's his," she protested, trying to get back her anger. Somehow, thinking of the baby in these terms made it less real.

"I know, Kate, but it's yours too. You need to think about that before you do anything rash."

He was breaking down the wall she'd built; she didn't want to cry anymore, so she changed the subject, hoping to distract him with his original statement. "If I agree to eat, will you stop talking about this?"

"For now. But sooner or later you're going to have to make a decision, and I just don't want to see you do something you'll regret."

"Who says I won't regret keeping the baby?" she countered, deciding to let him in on some of her fears as she added, "What if it turns out exactly like him? What if I can't look at it without remembering what he did to me?"

He took her hand again, rubbing her palm gently with his thumb as he pulled her back down. "But what if you can? What if having this baby makes it easier? Do you really want to give that up?"