Chapter 25

Connie's mood had not improved by the time he had returned from patrol. It did not improve that morning through breakfast or during the car ride to the hospital. Bruce had made excuses to Alfred, Tim and Cass about where they were going and Connie had been convincing enough that no one questioned the couple.

Her arms were crossed across her chest and she looked ready to throw daggers at him as they sat in the waiting room but he refused to rise to the bait. In a contest of a wills, he as fairly sure he could prevail. The morning progressed painfully slowly. Most of their time was spent waiting for doctors or tests to be preformed.

Connie had more patience than did Bruce, but he figured she had been doing this for nearly two years and was used to it. He, on the other hand, was used to action and results. Waiting for people to read scan results or consult other specialists was nearly maddening for him. He had a great reserve of patience, but not in instances when he thought he could get things done faster. Those episodes just served to annoy him.

Forcing himself to look somewhat relaxed yet slightly pensive, what he imagined a concern boyfriend would look like, he patted Connie's shoulder comfortingly. He received a death glare that would make anyone in the Bat family proud of her. Part of him wanted to growl a response at her but he instead plastered a seemingly understanding smile on his face.

By the early afternoon Connie was chaffing at her confines and Bruce was ready to put every specialist in the hospital through a wall. Preferably head first. After what seemed to Bruce to be an inordinate amount of time a female woman in a long lab coat entered the room with a forced smile on her face.

Bruce's first instinct was to stand to his full height and intimidate the woman into telling him what was wrong with Connie. Ruthlessly quelling that desire, he instead smiled a little unsurely and leaned forward in a manner that he thought conveyed hopeful curiosity. He sometimes hated having to pass for normal; it took quite a bit of effort.

"Well we got all the blood work and scan results back a few minutes ago. The cancer hasn't metastasized, so that's good news."

Connie was not hiding her feelings the way Bruce was. She looked ready to grab the attending by her throat. "And?" She asked with no small amount of ire.

"The cancer isn't causing your symptoms." Looking towards Bruce, the attending seemed to want to ask him to leave.

Bruce didn't doubt that both women would be more comfortable with him outside. Planting his feet even more firmly, he decided to stay put for two reasons. Not only did he want to hear what the doctor had to say first hand but he also was enjoying the fact that he was making the attending uncomfortable and Connie mad. Part of him recognized that was lightly sadistic, but he couldn't convince himself to really care.

"Perhaps I should talk to Dr. Marsters alone," the attending said.

Smiling one of his famous playboy smiles at the doctor, Bruce reached for Connie's hand. "Oh I think I should be here for whatever you have to say."

Fed up with the act Bruce had been forced to put on for the majority of day, Connie squeezed his hand so hard she hoped she bruised him. His smile didn't falter for a moment which made her squeeze harder. "He can stay," was her clipped reply. She knew she had little chance of making him leave; once he had dug his heels in he was impossible to move.

Nodding, the attending took a small breath before starting. "We ordered a series of tests to be preformed on your blood. We tested for all the known cancer markers and the appropriate ones were elevated of course. We did chemistry testing, which showed you are slightly dehydrated which is to be expected from the vomiting. We also decided to do a pregnancy test just to make sure…"

Connie's eyes widened as her jaw dropped. It was Bruce's turn to squeeze her hand. Without that physical connection she was sure she would have been out of the bed with her hands around the doctor's neck.

"You said," Connie ground out before the physician could continue, "they all said I couldn't have children. Since the first round of chemo, I was told I couldn't conceive!" Her voice had risen in volume as she had spoken.

Bruce could see the rage in her eyes and he was having a hard time controlling the emotions boiling inside of him. He had nearly fallen off the chair when the attending had mentioned a pregnancy test.

"Can we back up?" He managed. "You said you did the test. Tell me very simply what the result was."

Addressing Connie, the attending spoke, "You're pregnant."

Everything around her seemed to stop moving for a moment. The bed was spinning and the only thing anchoring her to reality was Bruce's steady pressure on her hand. Swallowing hard she fought to urge to be sick right then and there.

"That isn't possible," she managed.

"I know," the doctor said, "All the tests that were done after your chemo indicated you were infertile. We can't explain the sudden change in your physiology. Your hormone levels are spiked, there is the possibility that the tumor pressed on certain cortexes causing higher than normal hormone levels which in turn caused a sudden ovulation. We really can't determine…"

The young doctor was cut off by Connie's sudden outburst. "I'm thirty-eight years old! I'm dying and I'm too damn old to have a baby and if anyone had told me there was any kind of chance I could get pregnant I would have taken some god damned precautions!"

"You're a doctor, you know that…"

With that response started, Bruce leapt from the chair and grabbed the attending by the elbow. Within a second he had ushered the stunned doctor out of the room and closed the door. Connie had been ready to commit homicide and he figured he had just saved the life of the young doctor.

Leaning against the wall a slow breath escaped him. "I thought…."

"Yeah me too," she said angrily. "I had testing done when I was married to David. We tried…" Tears had suddenly sprung to her eyes. "We tried for three years before I finally went to get tested. They told me I had slim chances, even with hormone injections. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of kids in the first place so I let it drop. And then, after the surgery and the chemo and radiation they told me my ovaries were fried. I went to the best doctors, Bruce, and they told me my slim chances had dropped to none. I thought…"

Tears were streaming feely down her face but Bruce couldn't make himself move.

"Why now?" She sobbed. "Now of all times!" Burying her head in her hand she sobbed while he watched in abject horror.

"We can…" he fought for words for a moment. "We can take care of it."

Fiery brown eyes met his. "You're telling me to abort?"

His breath caught. He had always supported woman's rights and the right to choose but saying it to the woman carrying his child hurt him. He did not want a baby, he told himself.

"Connie…please think this through. Let's go home; we have time to figure out what to do."

The words sounded much calmer than he felt. He felt like he was going to collapse to the floor at any moment. When he moved to his silent partner he found his legs were made of lead.

They signed the necessary paperwork and silently made their way to the car park. The ride home was as silent as the ride to the hospital had been but this time the air wasn't filled with angry silence. It was filled with trepidation and terror. Bruce's white knuckled grip on the steering wheel told Connie all she needed to know about his feelings of the situation.

Connie had silent tears falling down her cheeks and Bruce knew he couldn't speak at the moment. He didn't trust himself not to say something completely insensitive. Satisfying himself with focusing entirely on driving he waited until they were home and Connie was heading upstairs to practically run to his study and lock the doors.