"Derek..." Emily whispered, prodding him gently. He continued to snore softly. She jabbed him harder. "Derek, wake up."

"Huh? Wha-wasgonon?" he mumbled, opening one eye.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," she teased.

"I'm awake," he said groggily, sitting up to make room on the couch for her. He slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in to kiss the side of her head. "If I didn't love you so much, you'd be dead for waking me up," he whispered in her ear.

She gave him her sweetest smile, snuggling into his side. "We can't tell your mother..." she whispered after a beat.

"We have to tell her," he said softly into her hair. "She has to know."

Mrs. Morgan had allowed Emily to stay the night without explanation – she knew how tumultuous Emily's relationship with her mother was and it wouldn't be the first time Emily had spent the night at the Morgans' because of an argument. Of course, she made them sleep in separate rooms (too little, too late, unbeknownst to her); Derek chivalrously gave Emily his bed while he slept on the couch. But she had nowhere to go, so sooner or later they'd have to admit that Elizabeth had kicked her out...and why.

"Not like this," she insisted, "We can't just tell her I'm pregnant without a plan...we'll sound like stupid kids who don't know how hard this is going to be! We have to make her believe we're ready for this, that we can do this..."

"Em, it's three AM and you'll be throwing up in two hours. You really want to make a plan now?" He yawned audibly. His head leaned against hers and she knew he would fall asleep like that if she didn't keep bothering him.

"I can't sleep, I'm mildly nauseous, and totally hormonal. I know I'll be using that excuse a lot in the near future, but...do you really want to get on my bad side so early on?"

He groaned in annoyance, but tickled her side to signify that he was teasing. "Fine, we'll make a plan because my pregnant girlfriend wants to make sure I don't sleep through the night for the next eighteen years."

If the room hadn't been so dark, he might've seen the way she visibly blanched. It was the first time they'd actually used that word.

As if sensing her panic, he nuzzled his nose into her hair to kiss the top of her head. "It'll be okay, Princess. We've got nine months to figure this out."

Emily loved Fran Morgan. She was warm, caring, and maternal...everything her own mother wasn't. She baked cookies, knit sweaters, and looked after you when you were sick. Elizabeth Prentiss had barely set foot in a kitchen in twenty years and she wouldn't have been caught dead cleaning up vomit. Fran Morgan was more of a mother to Emily than she'd ever had and she really really didn't want to disappoint her by admitting to being pregnant by her son, out of wedlock.

That was why she was so nervous about telling her, no matter how many times Derek told her things wouldn't go as bad as she feared.

"Hey, Mama, can I talk to you for a sec?" Derek hollered up the stairs once his sisters had left, more fearful of their reaction than his mother's.

Emily was seated on the kitchen counter, chewing what was left of her nails to shreds. To stop her, Derek grabbed her hands and laced their fingers, giving her a reassuring smile, then leaned in to kiss her.

"Keep it PG, lovebirds," Fran warned. Emily felt her cheeks flush violent red as they pulled apart.

"You should sit, Mama," Derek said gently, moving to kiss her cheek.

"What's going on, Derek?" she asked, sounding concerned, with the potential for anger (even if Emily had never actually seen her get angry).

"I'm pregnant," Emily burst out before Derek could say it – if Fran was going to be angry at someone, she'd rather it was her.

Fran seemed stunned to silence for several long minutes. "Pregnant?" she repeated. "When? How?"

"It was an accident!" Emily rushed to supply. "We didn't plan this – we tried that activated charcoal ice cream and it messes with your birth control, but I didn't know that and..." She started hyperventilating a little.

"Didn't I buy you condoms?" Fran asked, affixing Derek with a stern glare. "Didn't I give you the talk?"

It was Derek's turn to blush. "We were using them," he insisted, "They aren't foolproof, apparently..." He shrugged, embarrassed.

"I didn't raise a fool..."

"But we have a plan," Emily insisted. "We're going to take responsibility for our mistake."

"You want to keep the baby?" she asked, no judgment in her voice, but it was clear that she was hoping for a certain answer, though Emily wasn't sure which.

Emily glanced at Derek, looking for support. He smiled gently, encouragingly. She nodded, meeting Fran's gaze with confidence she didn't feel. "I'm set to graduate this semester and then I'll have access to my trust fund. We can use that to pay for everything the baby needs. Derek will go to college first – hopefully on a football scholarship and I'll work; I can teach ESL part-time and translate from home. Then when he's graduated, I'll start school. And..." she rambled.

Fran interrupted, "Where are you going to live?"

"My trust fund will be enough for..." she started to explain their plan to get a cheap apartment so they wouldn't inconvenience the family.

Derek surprised her by interrupting, "We were hoping you'd let us stay here. We can turn the office into a nursery – Emily can stay in my room and I'll sleep on a cot in the nursery. We can pay rent and groceries and stuff to help out."

"We don't want to intrude and we won't overstay our welcome," Emily added, embarrassed to ask so much of Fran and her family who had so little.

"I know how important family is to you, Mama, and we want you to be close to your grandbaby," Derek said. "We'll be raising the baby – you won't be doing any more work."

Fran silently absorbed the information for a few moments. "I see you've put a lot of thought into this and I can appreciate you trying to do the right thing."

"But..." Emily prompted anxiously.

"But you're asking a lot. You're both sixteen and a baby is a lot of responsibility at any age. I want to support you – both of you – but I need some time to think about this."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Morgan," Emily said, tears welling up. "This is all my fault, not Derek's. Please don't kick him out..."

"Kick him out?" Fran repeated incredulously. "Why would I do that?"

"My mother did," she said meekly.

Fran gathered Emily in a tight embrace. "Oh, sweetie. I would never do that – to him or to you." She sighed, looking from Emily to Derek. "Tell you what... I'll consider letting you live here, if you promise me you'll at least consider adoption."

"You're the best, Mama," Derek said with his winning smile. He tipped Emily an 'everything will be alright' wink before wrapping his arms around both of them, squishing them in a group hug.

For the first time in weeks, Emily sort of believed that things would, in fact, be alright.