So here's the next installment of the story. Also, a quick note – a few reviewers have mentioned that my timeline is off, so here's the deal: instead of Manny getting pregnant and having the abortion when she was 14, just pretend that whole storyline happened at 17, about a month before the shooting. Capice? Enjoy!

Up, Up, Up

Aren't you terrified of waking up too tired to try again?

"I know what you're going to say."

Manny stops, loses her words, drops her heart into the pit of her stomach. "Wh – what?"

"Manny." He is smiling – no, he is more than smiling, Craig is beaming; radiating a happiness she's never seen him express outside of her daydreams. And when he takes her hand, their fingers fit together as they never used to: his hands are no longer too big and rough with calluses; hers are not tiny and trembling. "I know."

"Who – who told you?"

"It doesn't matter." He lifts both of their hands to brush a stray stand of hair away from her face. Manny is mesmerized by the joint action, how surely he leads and how easily she follows. "Nothing else matters now, Manny. Just us."

"Just us," she repeats. "All of us."

Craig moves their hands in the direction of her stomach, which is bulging with what they will soon share. Manny loves the new curve, relishes the feel of her skin stretching with new life. She finds it fitting, a physical manifestation of the overwhelming love she feels for Craig.

"Except –" Craig stills his arm, leaving their hands to hover just inches away from their future. "There's one problem."

Manny freezes with his lack of motion, her eyes glued to his. "What? What is it?"

"I don't think we should have this baby."

"But … Craig. It's ours. We did this. We should follow through on it. We should raise it together. We should be together."

"I think so, too." He let go of her hand so that hers fell lifelessly to her lap and his came up to caress her face. "I want to be with you, Manny. But I don't want this baby. Which do you want more? The baby … or me?"

Manny awoke in a cold sweat. The details of her dream were already turning gray and fuzzy, but the emptiness it had evoked remained. She'd been thinking nonstop about how to approach Craig for the past seven days. No matter how many different times, how many different ways, she envisioned it, it always ended badly. Her most current nightmare was one of her least favorite.

She wanted Craig. There was no denying that, no way around it. She had wanted him since she was fourteen; a silly teenybopper with a schoolgirl crush on Degrassi's resident badass. She wanted him so much she couldn't breathe sometimes with the force of it.

And a baby. A baby could be the best thing for them. Manny truly believed that having this baby was all they needed. Being pregnant was a sort of miracle, she'd decided. It was the perfect thing to bring her and Craig back to each other, to strengthen the bond they'd always had.

Now all she had to do was convince him of the same thing. Pushing the dream to the back of her mind, Manny stood and began to prepare herself. Her life depended on the outcome of the conversation she would have today.

Hers … and her baby's.

XXX

Jimmy had never realized how small Degrassi was. Not until he was forced to maneuver down the hallways, taking corners and dodging classmates, in the bulkiest, most unyielding contraption ever invented … the brand new mode of transportation that had seamlessly replaced the used car his parents had been talking about … a wheelchair.

Not to mention that everywhere he went, he could hear people's whispers following him. It was like everyone believed he'd lost the use of his ears along with his legs.

"I heard he tried to kill himself when the doctors told him."

"I don't blame him. He was really good at basketball … he could've been famous."

"Yeah … guess there's not much hope of that now."

"No way. You see that wheelchair? That's permanent."

It was overhearing this conversation, between a Grade Ten who'd once confessed to having "the biggest crush" on him at a party and the guy who would be taking his place on the team, that had sent Jimmy straight for the gym. Thankfully, it was always empty during lunchtime. He'd spent many a fifth period skipping bad sandwiches and day-old stews in favor of practicing his moves for whatever scout had taken a serious interest in recruiting him at the time.

It's different now, though. Practicing his moves meant going through the extremely painful physical therapy regiment designed to keep his numb, useless lower limbs in good condition in case they ever decided to start working again. The only professionals taking interest in him were medical doctors who got paid his college tuition to tell him the same thing over and over again: that he has to be patient, that it's doesn't look good, but it's not hopeless, either.

Now, he wheeled his way around the gym and felt like he was trespassing somehow, as if he no longer belonged in what was once his sanctuary. Now, he palmed a basketball, dribbled it a few times, and took a shot that didn't even come close to the rim.

"Damn it!" he cursed as the ball hit the wall, fell to the floor, and rolled away. "God damn it."

The tears burning the backs of his eyelids felt almost as bad as the hot shame that filled his insides. To lose the one thing he'd had a talent for, to be unable to play the sport he loved, it was a tragedy, an unlucky circumstance, a horrible accident. But he didn't feel blameless. He felt … guilty. All the time. Like he should have known, could have stopped it, could have saved the day and himself in one grand, superhero gesture.

But Rick had gotten the better of him. The best of him, really, in the end. He hadn't just taken Jimmy's legs, he'd ruined his livelihood, his career, and quite possibly his future. Without basketball, Jimmy didn't know what to do. Without use of his legs, he didn't know what he could do.

He didn't even know who he was anymore.

Head spinning with the realization, Jimmy wheeled towards the gym's doors, anxious to escape the thought. He would go to his next class and immerse himself in whatever they were learning. He would pretend that he wasn't on his feet simply because he wasn't allowed to be during classtime, that it had nothing to do with the fact that if he tried to get up and sharpen his pencil he would fall flat on his face and not be able to get himself back up.

He was almost to the door when it burst open and he collided with a small figure whose face was almost a stranger's as she sobbed uncontrollably.

"Manny?" he said softly, concerned with the force of her tears, "What are you doing here?"

XXX

Fifth period was the only time Manny had even a chance of getting Craig alone to talk about their situation. Him being a year ahead of her assured that they never shared classtime and, unfortunately, the glimpses she got of him in the hallway were not nearly enough time for her to make him understand what was happening.

He was easy to find in the cafeteria, seated at his usual table with Ashley by his side, Paige and Spinner across from them. A fearsome foursome if ever there was one, but Manny could not be deterred. Gathering all of her courage, she approached the group and laid a gentle hand on Craig's shoulder.

"So I said –" Craig stopped abruptly. Something inside of him shifted, whether to harden or melt he wasn't sure, and he wondered why his internal balance should be so easily thrown off by a blast from the past. He didn't allow himself to wonder why he recognized the touch immediately. "Manny. Can I help you?"

"Find a short cliff for her long walk?" Paige whispered and her boyfriend snickered along, both of them eyeing Manny suspiciously. Ashley didn't snicker, though her lips twisted, and she refused to even look at Manny.

Manny ignored them, focusing solely on Craig. "Um. Listen, can I talk to you for a minute? In private?"

"Sounds like a proposition to me," Spinner murmured.

Paige laughed and elbowed him jokingly, "How would you know!"

Craig shut his friends up with a glare and turned apologetic eyes to Ashley. "Ash, I'll see you seventh period?"

Her nod did more than just assent to that fact, it gave him permission to go off with Manny. In silent assurance, he squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek chastely before standing. Manny wished she didn't feel like she was intruding on a private moment.

Craig finally turned, putting them face to face for the first time in weeks. After their one night together, Craig had pulled Manny into an empty classroom days later to tell her that it had all been a mistake, that he and Ashley were back together and they were officially over. Manny had been so heartbroken that she couldn't have argued if she'd tried.

"Manny?" Craig prompted. "Shall we?"

"Oh. Right. How about we go to the music room? It'll be quiet there right now," she suggested, and hoped it was true as she led the way.

She was right. The two spent a few minutes settling in, careful to keep each other at a respectable distance. Craig sat down and lifted a guitar from its place leaning against the wall, plucking it absentmindedly. Manny left a folding chair between them for propriety's sake and crossed her legs nervously.

"So?" Craig said when enough time had passed that the silence was awkward. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Craig, do you remember –"

Well, of course he remembers, you idiot, she told herself. You were his first time, too, Manny, people don't just forget things like that.

She took a deep breath and tried again. "Um. You know how we, um, slept together? Last month?"

"Yeah. Of course I do."

Craig was quickly getting uncomfortable. He thought he'd made it clear to Manny that whatever they'd had was long gone. That she was bringing it up again now, when everything was going so well with Ashley, made him nervous.

"Craig. I went to the doctor a couple weeks ago. Um. Actually. The day Rick tried to kill Emma. And Jimmy Brooks, I guess. I wasn't here. I was at a clinic. And I found out … Craig, I'm pregnant."

There was no reaction. She waited. A minute passed, the seconds ticked away by an absurdly loud clock. Still, Craig said nothing.

"Craig? Did you hear what I said?"

"You're pregnant," he responded. "I heard. I just … I just don't know what you want me to say."

She didn't really know, either. But there had to be something. He had to say something that could make it better, or easier, or … right. He had to be able to fix it, to make her whole again.

"You think it's mine?"

That most definitely was not what she'd wanted him to say. Manny literally felt her heart crack, the piece she had long ago given to Craig shattering painfully against her ribcage. "Of course it's yours," she whispered, hurt beyond reason by the accusation in his dull tone. "I've never been with anyone else."

Craig put the guitar where he'd found it and clasped his hands together. "Look. Manny. I'm not sure what you think you're going to accomplish with this … scheme, but Ashley and I are happy together. And I've been trying, every day since I made my mistake, to deserve her."

His mistake. Manny could have sworn that what was left of her heart disintegrated on the spot at his words. She was his mistake. When he looked at her, he didn't see a soulmate, he didn't feel like he'd found his other half. He saw the bad decision he'd made that had kept him from Ashley, something he apologized for and paid for but never, ever wished for.

Valiantly, she tried to salvage the conversation. "It's not a scheme, Craig. I'm not making this up. I swear, I wouldn't do that to you."

"Manny, are you even listening to me? Ashley would kill me if … if what you're saying is the truth. She would kill me. Or dump me, and that's probably worse. I need her." Craig looked around, desperate for escape. "I'll give you money, if that's what you want. However much you need, my dad left me a big inheritance. I'll give you whatever, just … just stay away from me. Please."

Blinking back tears, Manny pushed past him and out into the hall just as the bell rang and students began to spill from the cafeteria. Thinking only of hiding before anyone saw her in such bad shape, she burst through the gym doors and ran straight into Jimmy Brooks' wheelchair, landing on his lap.

"Manny?" he questioned, peering at her tear-streaked face, "What are you doing here?"

She couldn't answer him through her tears. She couldn't answer him at all. She didn't know what she was doing anymore.