/-^1^-\ 2 weeks later. Monday. /-^1^-\

Alison climbed into the car with Thomas, gazing back at the care home.

"How did you do it, Alison?"

"Ever looked into the head of someone who's insane? I mean, deeply looked. Not just seen what's out on the surface? Because if you're armed with that knowledge, it's easy for you to do the right things to make you sound sane. Fool them into thinking you've made progress. It's what half of the inmates in Arkham did. They tricked you but there you didn't believe anyone. Here, it's a bit different."

"You're saying you lied?"

"I didn't slash my arm wide open on purpose, I was pricking myself with needles so no one could see. And at that time, I was drunk and stoned. I know I'd never normally do that... well, at least I never suspected I would."

"Your method was to go out drinking a lot and occasionally get stoned. That was how you became self-destructive. I know it's wrong... but I thanked your head injury for pretty much taking that away and now I'm not so sure you've completely forgotten. I think bits of things you pushed down are beginning to return."

"You mean I'm beginning to return?"

Thomas didn't reply, he started the car and drove to a hotel. Alison stepped out, not sure why they were there. Thomas pulled out a suitcase from the back though and planted it down before her.

"I don't think you should go home just yet. Stay a bit with me, reenergise yourself and we'll... work this out," he grimaced.

"Okay," she nodded, smiling wryly.

"We're in a twin room," he said, entering in with her and getting into the lift. Alison frowned, expecting him to say more but he didn't.

"Cool," she said, shaking her head.

Thomas glanced at the floor and stepped out at the doors opened, Alison following behind like a sulky child. He opened up the room door with the key and stepped inside, putting her suitcase down on the floor. Alison went straight for the bathroom first and glanced inside, grinning.

"A shower! Yes!" she cheered. "Oh, and that way it makes it very difficult for me to kill myself, doesn't it!" she grinned falsely. Thomas took a sharp breath in.

"That's not funny, Alison."

"Isn't it? Can't we giggle at crazy little me, is that wrong?"

"What's with you?"

"I'm free! You might have thought that it was nice and pretty in that little room but it drove me up the wall! This is more space than I've had for a few weeks now, it's almost foreign."

"What have you taken?"

"Nothing! I wouldn't dare do that, Thomas. Not now."

"Not now? You've been given medication from the care home haven't you?"

"I didn't tell you?" she asked, "Tommy, I'm pregnant!"

"Shit!"

"Shit!" she hissed, "What do you mean 'shit'?"

"Come on it's not the ... best of events that could happen."

"It would have been if Jonathan wasn't now a 'criminal' wouldn't it?" she said lowly. Thomas couldn't help but feel very afraid, and like he was in a lot of danger currently. "It would have, yes. Because that would just make us a bigger family. It would give us our little baby, who would grow up living a perfect little life in a lovely home and neighbourhood, attending a nice school with other nice girls and boys. That would be fine! The current situation, no it's terrible. It's shit! But, I can still have that lovely little life, you idiot! I bet Jon could too! Don't dare turn around and say 'shit' when I tell you I am pregnant, you ass!" she snarled, running into the bathroom and locking the door behind her.

"NO! ALISON! DON'T!"

"Don't top myself? I'm not stupid, Thomas. I'm here for some peace and quiet! Tell me when you need to shit."

/-^1^-\

Alison climbed into her bed, turning on her side to look over at Thomas who was obviously awake.

"Remember the school residential where there was a huge butterfly on the wall and you screamed and woke everyone up?" asked Thomas. Alison smiled and nodded. "I'm reminded of it because we were in opposite beds, weren't we?"

"Yes."

"Alison, I thought you'd be less than pleased about being pregnant. Of course I think it's wonderful, I think you need support though."

"I know," she whispered, "night," she said, turning around.

She gazed ahead, trying to work out if there was really somebody stood there. The light was way too dim for her to be able to tell though. She sat up a little, blinking quickly. The figure held out one arm towards her. She pulled the cover back and approached.

"Jonathan," she whispered, taking his hand. He pulled her around into his arms, gripping both of her hands.

"I love you," he said softly, lowering his head and kissing her neck.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, "It's dangerous!"

"Alison, what are you doing?" asked Thomas, turning the lamp on. His eyes widened with horror as Jonathan held up a gun at him. Alison pressed her hand down on it, even able to feel Jonathan relax when he realised it was Thomas.

"No shooting," she warned.

"Unloaded," he whispered in her ear so only she could hear. She shook her head and sighed.

"Doesn't matter. The thought is bad enough."

"This is crazy. You should leave, Jonathan. I think you should leave."

"I'm here because we need to talk. Don't you think we need to talk? We can't just sit around wishing things would sort themselves out - we need a plan," he insisted. "Please?" he begged Alison. She turned to him, clinging onto him and nodding.

"I need you," she whispered.

"I need you too."


Slowly beginning to pick up speed again :)