Derek walked into the living room and very nearly walked right back out again because he could feel the restless energy wafting off Emily. He knew that she was the kind of person who hated to sit still for too long and, now that she was forced to, she was on the verge of losing her shit entirely...

"Hello, Beautiful," Derek greeted plastering on a bright (and just a tad fake) smile.

"Don't 'beautiful' me," she grumbled, "I'm mad."

He knew better than to laugh, even though her grumpy expression was rather comical. "About what?" he asked, settling next to her on the couch where he'd deposited her that morning.

"Everything!" she exclaimed, flinging her arms out wide and narrowly avoiding smacking him in the face. "This is fucking ridiculous and I hate it."

He sighed, leaned in to kiss her cheek (only to have her duck aside at the last moment). "I know, Princess, I know. But..."

"If you try to tell me to look on the bright side or some kind of bullshit like that, I swear to God, I will make you eat your own balls," she threatened.

He held up his hands in surrender. "I promise no platitudes. But won't it be at least a little fun to watch movies all day and have me wait on you hand and foot?"

"Nope."

"But...?"

"No!" she insisted. "There is still so much to do before Simba arrives and you have school and football and..." She started to hyperventilate a little at that. "Oh God... We can't do it all! There's not enough time! Oh God..."

Derek rested a hand on both her shoulders so she was forced to stare into his eyes. "Breathe, Em," he urged, "Just breathe, okay? It's all going to be fine."

She pouted a little. "But..." she whined.

"I promise," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her softly. With a warm smile, he said, "Now, what can I get you?"

With a little laugh, she said, "Lemonade?"

"Anything for my baby mama." When he entered the kitchen, he spotted Sarah making herself some lunch; she offered him a smile, but he failed to return it.

"Everything okay?" Sarah asked him.

Still, he didn't respond.

"Derek?" she prompted, brow furrowed in concern. "What? Now you're not talking to me because of your girlfriend?" she scoffed. "You're so goddamn blind to her faults, but..."

Derek positively glowered. "Don't, Sarah. Don't start with me."

"Why are you all defending her!?" Sarah demanded. "She's tearing this family apart and I'm the only one who sees it!"

"Why are you so afraid of Emily being a part of this family?" he retorted. "Because whether you like it or not, she's here to stay!"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "She's having your baby, but you are both still teenagers – she's not going to stick around and if you think she is...well, I finally understand why people say 'love is blind'..."

"What is your fucking problem!?" he demanded. "Ever since Emily got here, you've been acting like she's Satan incarnate. Everyone else can accept that I love her, why can't you?"

She shot him a dubious look, but didn't need to say anything for him to know what she meant.

"Yes, Sarah – whether you like it or not, I do love her!"

"You're in lust with her, sure, but..." she started to argue.

He held up one hand to stop her mid-sentence. "Maybe you've never loved someone like this, but that doesn't mean that I haven't," he said. "Love isn't like driving a car..."

She waited a beat for him to elaborate and when he didn't, she asked, "What?"

"There isn't an age restriction – just because we're young, doesn't mean we can't experience real love."

Sarah scoffed. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Besides, we're not talking about what you feel, we're talking basic probability. You know, math?"

He rolled his eyes.

She continued on undeterred, "The statistics say whatever is between you and Emily is not going to survive a baby. You're not going to graduate high school, let alone college. You won't stay together and, if you do, she'll get pregnant again. You'll struggle to make ends meet, you'll work crap jobs and rely on welfare. Your life is going to be shit, Derek! Do you honestly think that's what Mom wants? What Dad would want?"

"Well, they wouldn't want me to abandon my son!" he retorted.

Sarah just huffed.

"Well, what would you have me do, Sarah?" he asked, genuinely eager to hear her thoughts, if only so he could understand her irrational anger.

She seemed thrilled that he'd finally asked. "I think you should be co-parents and nothing more. Lots of people do it and their kids are just fine..."

He just shook his head, eyes narrowed in a hostile glare. "That's not the kind of Dad I'm going to be. And you know what? If you're not going to support that, then I don't think we have anything more to discuss." And with that, he grabbed the lemonade and marched out of the kitchen.

"Everything okay?" Emily asked when he passed her the glass and flopped down on the couch next to her.

Instead of answered that question, he said, "Maybe we should start looking for an apartment."

Her brows shot up her forehead. "An apartment?" she repeated. "Why?"

"To live in..."

"But why?" she repeated. "I thought we were going to live here, with your family." A beat. "Is this about Sarah?"

He gestured helplessly. "You said it yourself: she said she doesn't care what happens to you or Simba! Our son could have died and she basically said she was happy about it!"

She reached over, as best she could, to cup his cheek. "Believe me, I understand...but he's fine. Simba is fine."

"I don't want to live with someone who wished our son dead," he maintained. He pressed a hand to either side of her belly, was silent for a long moment. "Em, you and my son are my whole world – I'd do anything for you. You're my family now."

"And what about your mom? What about Desi? Are you going to punish them for Sarah's mistakes?" she asked. "Your mother has been working so hard to help us and this is her first grandchild, she wants to be there for us and him."

His expression made it clear that she was making good points, but he wasn't convinced.

She sighed, offered a soft smile. "If this is what you really want, I'm sure my father will co-sign the lease for us and he gave us enough money for a few months until I graduate and get into my trust fund."

"Great!" he declared.

"But..." she continued before he could say anything more, "I think we should sleep on the matter."

He pouted, but sighed relentingly. "Fine. Damn you for being so damn reasonable." He crossed his arms over his chest childishly.

She giggled, pulled him in for a kiss. "You're so cute. God, I love you."

He hummed into the kiss. "I love you too, Princess."

"Great! Now, can you get me a sandwich? Oooh! Or some potato salad? I'm starving."

Playfully rolling his eyes, he said, "You're always starving."

"And it's your job to make me not starving," she said with a little wink. "Right?"

"Anything for my baby mama."