Notes: deals with issues like abortion, abuse, and rape. You have been warned.

Ashley looked at Doctor Connor. She just looked at her. "But there's no way…I haven't ever…" she whispered, and then, like a knife twisting in her heart, she realized that she had. Mitch. He had knocked her out. She was aching badly. Mitch. Mitch. It was Mitch.

"Mitch…" she choked out, burying her face in her hands.

Doctor Connor placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sweetie, were you raped?"

Ashley lifted her head. "Does being unconscious…during it…count?"

Doctor Connor closed her eyes, as if in pain, and nodded her head. "Do you want to report-"

"NO!" Ashley screamed. Doctor Connor flinched, but her eyes were filled with sympathy. "I mean…no. Sorry. It's just-" she paused for a moment as a sob caught her breath, "what are my options?" Ashley could feel the tears pricking at her eyes.

"You could always have the baby and give it up for adoption, but considering your youth and your physical condition, I don't recommend it."

"Physical condition?" Ashley asked, barely above a whisper.

"You have bruises all over your body." Doctor Connor said.

"What does that have to do with having a baby?" Ashley asked.

"It could hurt you when you actually have the baby, and I am guessing you get these bruises often, and being hit hard enough can damage the fetus."

Ashley nodded. "Okay. So, what should I do?" A tear ran down her face.

"There are a few abortion clinics-"

"And HOW would I pay for that?" Ashley snapped.

"Your parents.."

"My parents. That's a laugh. My mom's dead and my dad isn't conscious half the time I see him." She said angrily, more tears spilling from her eyes.

Doctor Connor looked at her for a moment, then looked around quickly. She looked Ashley in the eyes. "In the first trimester, the cost of an abortion ranges from $250-$400. Do you know when…it happened?"

Ashley nodded, a sob wracking her body. "Six days ago."

Doctor Connor brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, you still have a lot of time. The first nine weeks is your first trimester, and the best time to get an abortion. In the state of New York, you must have parental consent if you are under the age of eighteen. You're what, sixteen?"

"No. Fourteen." Ashley said, sniffling slightly.

Doctor Connor sighed heavily. "I truly am sorry this happened to you, Ashley. I truly am."

December 14, 2005

Ashley clutched her stomach, and walked out of the bathroom. This had been the second morning she was sick. She had to miss rehearsal. Of course, she was going to do that anyway, but it would be rather embarrassing because she had convinced Maxwell she would be there. She still had a few healing cuts on her face, and the tops of her hands were pretty scratched up. Doctor Connor had said she wouldn't have scars. But scars were the least of her worries. She was pregnant. She was pregnant. It was Mitch's. He had raped her. She knew she had to get an abortion, she would not subject her baby to this cruel situation. But her father would never consent. And he'd never pay.

Ashley clutched the wall for support, but gave up and fell to her knees in the middle of the hallway. "Shit, shit, SHIT!"

"Keep it doooooooooowwwwn Asssssshleeeeeeeeeey" her dad slurred from his large recliner, "Jerrrry Spriiiiiiiiingeeeeeer is on."

"Oh, piss off" she snapped, but realized that it was a mistake.

"What did you say to me girl!" he said, rising from the recliner and tripping over his own shoes.

She just kept quiet. She backed herself up against the wall, and hugged her knees. Once her father regained his composure, he stumbled over to her, his large figure looming over her. He pulled her up by the arm.

"Daddy..don't…" she whispered.

He spat in her face, and threw her down on the floor. She screamed and hugged her stomach. She put her hands up to her face as he knelt down beside her, the stench of scotch filling her nose. He removed her hands delicately from her face, and sent his fist smashing into her cheek. She was sobbing openly by now. It hurt so much. He balled his fist again to hit her, but with her last bit of strength she punched him in the throat. He clutched it tightly, his eyes bulging in pain, until he finally collapsed beside her. Ashley got to her feet shakily, trying to keep her crying down.

C.C. looked at the stage. Someone was missing. "Where is that little brat?" she asked Maxwell exasperatedly.

"I told you yesterday. A mirror fell on top of her and-"

"Yes, yes. But didn't you say she INSISTED on coming in?"

Maxwell furrowed his brow. "As a matter of fact, she did. Do me a favor, C.C. Call her."

C.C. frowned. She remembered Ashley's number from their last 'conversation', and quickly punched it into her cell phone.

It rang twice before someone picked up.

"H-hello?" Ashley's voice hitched.

"Ashley? This is C.C., Are you okay?"

Ashley sobbed. "C.C., please, help me.."

"Okay. Okay. Calm down, kid."

"What's going on, C.C.?" Maxwell asked worriedly.

C.C. held the phone away from her. "I don't know. She sounds panicked, though."

"Do me a favor" Maxwell said, "go check on her."

C.C. groaned. "Do I have to?"

Maxwell gave her a look.

"Ashley? Yes. I'll be right over."

Ashley gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. She hung the phone up, and sank to the floor in excruciating pain.

She pressed herself up against the wall, wanting to get as far away from her father as possible. She dug her nails into her palms. "Please…" she whispered, sighing in relief as drops of blood dripped onto the floor from her hands.

C.C. got out of the elevator on the twelfth floor, and marched down the hallway to Ashley's front door. She was frustrated. Why did she have to go check on Ashley? The girl had obviously pushed her away. She seemed perfectly fine to fend for herself. She knocked lightly on the wooden door. "Ashley?" she called, her voice dripping with obvious annoyance.

The sound she heard next was one she would never forget. "C.C…." the voice was weak and pathetic, laced with obvious sobs and grief.

"Ashley? Open the door." She jiggled the doorknob.

The door opened slowly, and Ashley stood, staring at her, leaning on the doorframe for support. "Oh, my god.."

Ashley's face was tear streaked, her right cheek bone was bruised, blood ran down her left cheek, and she smelled of alcohol. "I can't-" she started, but those were the last words she said before she collapsed forward into C.C.'s arms.

C.C. caught her in a loose embrace, struggling to balance herself. C.C. leaned on the wall for support, and wrapping her left arm around Ashley's waist, she drew out her cell phone with her right hand. She had just pushed the number nine when she heard a distinct voice.

"No..hospital.." Ashley mumbled against C.C.'s shoulder. Her eyes opened slightly, but she closed them again.

"Okay…okay…um…Ashley?" C.C. asked worriedly.

Ashley's eyes opened fully this time. "I can walk…" she slurred, but as she tried to release herself from C.C.'s grip, she just slumped back against her. "Maybe not…"

C.C. smiled at her weak attempt at humor, and shifted Ashley so she was supporting her waist with her right arm, and Ashley could face forward. Ashley was shorter than C.C., so it was a lot easier to hold on to the girl. C.C. practically carried Ashley to her BMW, and lay her barely conscious form in the backseat of her car.

C.C. looked at the car clock. It was 5:00 PM, already starting to get dark. The cold weather got her depressed sometimes. Snowflakes fell from the sky and landed on the windshield of her car. This would be a long night.