After that night, Joan still drops by regularly. For the first couple of weeks, she fears finding a bloody scene greeting her, but then she comes to realize that Bonnie is past that. Now, all she finds is a broken girl who is often sitting curled up on the couch staring off into space. Joan's visits have become daily, after finding out the only time Bonnie would eat was during Joan's presence in the tiny apartment. She wonders if all Bonnie does is wait tables and sit and stare at the wall.

Joan loathes the situation. She feels torn, even after spending so much time with this girl, she still gets that feeling; that she should hate her and not give a flying fuck what happened to her. The stronger, more compassionate side of her always wins, seeing the ruins of what could have possibly once been a happy, normal teenage girl.

Well into the third week like this, Bonnie seems to be doing better. Joan swears she can see a ghost of a smile appear on the girls face when Joan makes one of her many sarcastic jokes. Most of her visits consist of a one sided conversation. Joan rambles on, because it's really all she knows to do in a situation like this. Bonnie's responses are far and few between, but Joan can tell she listens, no matter how stupid the ramblings get.

She knows that Bonnie must be about a month pregnant by now, and thinks it might be a good time to start discussing it. She knows it could possibly send Bonnie spiraling back down into her depression, but she also knows it needs to be done. After school, she brings some magazines and brochures with her and hopes that this conversation will go smoothly.

"Hey Bonnie," she greets, plastering a forced smile on her face. She always tries to be cheery and extra nice to the frail girl. She hopes her upbeat attitude is contagious. "I know you probably don't want to discuss this, but it kind of has to be done. We need to be thinking about getting you a doctor and possibly start planning a budget for once you have the baby…"

Joan is cut off by a sharp laugh from Bonnie. It closely resembles the maniacal laugh she had heard the night Bonnie tried to cut herself. It stops Joan in her tracks, scares her.

"There isn't going to be a baby," Bonnie tells her dryly, smiling even though it is clear she isn't really happy or amused in the slightest.

"Oh," Joan responds, trying to take this in. "You… aren't pregnant after all?"

"Oh I am, " another short mirthless laugh escapes her lips. "Just not for very long."

"You're going to…" Joan says, startled. She can't even finish the sentence, because in her mind it is completely unfathomable.

"Yup," Bonnie responds, getting up from her seat on the couch. "Been thinking about it a lot. Decided there is no way I am having the bastard's baby."

Joan sits deathly still, trying to catch up to where things were heading.

"Want something to eat?" Bonnie asks as she opens the fridge to see what's inside. Joan had just stocked it the other day for her. "Least I can do for all the times you practically hand fed me."

"No, I'm good," Joan tells her as she studies her.

There is a silence as Bonnie makes a quick, simple sandwich and sits back down next to Joan.

"Do you want me to…" Joan gulps, not really sure she is truly prepared to do what she is offering. Bonnie looks at her questioningly as she takes a bite of her sandwich. "Do you want me to go with you? To the clinic I mean."

"You would do that?" Bonnie asks in something akin to wonder, looking at Joan with her wide eyes.

"Yeah," Joan forces out another plastic smile. She's getting more used to faking them now. "I told you I would help you get through this, didn't I?"

"You did," Bonnie nods, and she seems at ease, a rarity these days. "I'll let you know when I set a date and a time, yo."

Joan fakes a smile again, her teeth clenching this time. She wonders if it is just a result of modern day slang or if Bonnie had picked up that word from Adam. Either way, it feels like a knife in her gut.

Bonnie flips open a page in one of the magazines Joan brought over.

"For real, can you really see me wearing that?" Bonnie asks, indicating a pink flowing maternity top with an arched brow. Joan tries to picture the dark haired girl in the outfit, but it only results in a tiny laugh.

A slight twitch of the corner of Bonnie's mouth is her version of an amused smile as she continues to flip through the magazine and nibble on her sandwich.