Unstoppable
Author's Notes: My first step back into fanfiction. I never realized how much I missed it. This is just a little conversation between JT and Liberty, after she gives birth. I tried to keep it in character, but I'm sure there's something wrong with it. I have to get reacquainted with all the characters again. Oh, and also, I don't think they ever mentioned the sex of the baby. I just said that it was a boy.
Hope you enjoy it. Review and tell me (honestly) what you thought.x.x.x.x
The hospital walls were so bright and colorful they could burn your eyes. They screamed at her with their vividness so much that it almost gave her a headache.
She knew that under any other circumstance, she would have loved this room. She would've admired the hospital for using such cheerful colors, because after all, this is a place where babies are born.
But she didn't admire them. In fact, every doctor who walked in she wanted to strangle.
Yet despite how sick the walls made her feel, she found herself in a deep trance, staring at the patterns. Where else was there to look?
She wondered for a moment what would happen if she just got up and left; left the stupid hospital, left her family, left everything that had happened the last few month. She already had the baby. What more could these people want?
Before her mind could even start to focus on the baby part, there was a soft tap on the door. She groaned inwardly; she couldn't take anymore hassling from the doctors or anymore hugs and kisses of support from her family. It all just felt like too much to stomach.
"How are you feeling?"
It was JT. Oh, God.
He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. He pulled over a chair, and sat next to her bed. She felt her body tense up.
"I've had better days," she mumbled and turned her head away from him.
"I've talked to the adoption counselor," he shared, moving his head to try and get her to look at him.
"Please, JT, I don't want to hear about it," she pleaded, holding up one hand.
He didn't answer.
The silence that followed overwhelmed them. There were so many things left unspoken. Where could they start?
Finally, and bravely, she spoke first. "I gave up our baby."
Her voice was sad and distant, as if she'd just realized it. He reached for her hand consolingly, and though she thought about it, she didn't pull back.
"We had to, Liberty."
She turned to face him. "I can't deal with this."
"Yes, you can. You can always deal."
"Do you think we made a mistake?"
The words hit him hard, and she knew it, too. He didn't speak.
"We're too young to raise a child, you know. We have school, and then college, and a future…" she continued quickly. "We have priorities."
"I know," he said softly, and found his eyes meeting the arm of the chair.
She swallows hard. "You think we made a mistake, don't you?"
"It's too late for that, Liberty. Let's just concentrate on what's going on right now." He still can't look her in the eyes.
She feels tears coming on. "I'm a terrible person."
"No," he says strongly. "You aren't. Our baby will belong to a loving family. It just. . . won't be us."
"That baby is our flesh and blood. And look what I've done. What if my mother had given me up for adoption? What about your mother? Our baby – the baby composed of our genes-belongs to somebody else now."
Suddenly unstoppable tears began to leak out of the corner of her eyes.
He'd never seen her lose control like this. Never. It frightened him, to say the very least. The saddest part was that there was nothing he could really do to help. He let her throw her arms around him and cry, but he still felt so powerless.
He took a deep breath. "So, we don't get to raise the kid. So what? He's still alive. And let me tell you something, those people are lucky to have him. Just think – he could have your smarts and my sense of humor. He's a force to be reckoned with. And, look . . . he'll still be our kid. He'll just have a family who's ready to take care of him," he said as they broke apart.
Despite her tears, she laughed. "Or he could have my sense of humor and your smarts."
Then they were both laughing. When the laughter subsided, her face was solemn, but not as sad. "I wish we could be ready to take care of him."
"Yeah," he said. "Me, too."
She wiped away stray tears. "Thanks, JT. Really. And I'm sorry about everything before. The way I treated you – it just seems so juvenile now."
Look at him, Liberty couldn't believe that almost two years ago they weren't even really friends. They'd come so far. He'd been young and immature; she could still clearly recall the days he'd be repulsed to even be near her. She remembered his plans to avoid her; his excuses. It all seemed silly now, but it was still so amazing. This was the last thing she'd imagined happening. The very, very last. She'd imagined hundreds of scenarios in her head before, ranging from good to bad to absolutely insane. She was prepared for those. Not for this. This one never crossed her mind.
"It's okay, Liberty."
"No, it's not, but thank you."
The silence fell upon them again, but this time they didn't fear it.
"Do you think you could go get my mother for me? I want to talk to her," Liberty asked finally.
JT smiled slightly. "Sure."
He kissed her cheek before he left.
Making his way to the door, she stopped him.
"JT?"
He turned to look at her.
"Do you remember when it was so simple between us?"
The truth was, he didn't even remember it being simple. But it was never this hard, either.
"Vaguely," he responded, nodding his head.
"Do you miss it?"
He thought about it for a moment. "Maybe sometimes. But I think we're doing pretty okay right now."
It was funny, she realized, how easily they had switched roles. He consoled her, reassured her. And she was the one asking questions, so unsure. She just had to admit to herself that she didn't always have to be in control. That, sometimes, it was okay to get help. It was okay not to have all the answers.
They smiled at each other before he left. It felt strange on her face, like she hadn't smiled in ages. Maybe she hadn't. She couldn't quite remember. But maybe that was for the best.
END