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NF - Trauma.
Hold me sweet Baby Yoda…
"I've seen the parade of beautiful women leaving his apartment—a different one every time—and I want no part of it." Mac remembered telling Parker when her roommate asked her how she felt about that first night with Dick Casablancas.
The First, as in… not the last. And afterwards… He was confusing. Annoying. Sweet. Sexy. She had wanted to trust him, yet everything about their history should seriously come with a complimentary fake ID and coupon to the local liquor store.
Looking back it was so easy to see her part in the mistakes that led them here.
Freshmen year of College was lots of hot messes needing a spritz with cold water, all drinking, having random hook-ups, angst, drugs, jealousy, promiscuity and raging hormones in general. Things could escalate quickly and sometimes she ached to be back in high school and at home with the familiar. All this Freedom gave her whiplash… Parental rules in Senior year may have sucked but at least the boundaries of crazy were kept within safe levels.
Lately? All Mac wanted was her Mom.
Wasn't that the real price of adulthood? Knowing that it was time to put away childish things and accepting no one was coming to save you.
Especially now she found out that lovers make the worst kind of enemies… Mac was replaying all the awful, malicious threats and his vow of making sure he got full custody and left her with no future as he sat propped up against the plush pillows. She should be feeling a healthy dose of frustrated anger but right now all she felt was fatigued and sick.
Steel-blue eyes raking over her from top to toe. Heat suffused her face but she fought to maintain a neutral expression.
If he was waiting for begging and grovelling he could kiss Veronica's Taser.
"Please just…" she pleaded, fighting the prickle behind her eyelids. "It's the first trimester… I'm exhausted… so if you want to fight.. just don't…"
She didn't belong here… if she was waiting here for him to suggest she really get a lawyer present it would devastate her... she just wanted to understand... she didn't want to listen to the voices that were screaming she couldn't trust him anymore...
"There's nothing to say Cindy," Dick told her calmly, shoving a hand through his hair. "We were never friends."
He knew from Logan that she had been unharmed physically by Tim Foyle, but seeing her eased some inner chest thumping instinct. He hadn't expected to be this angry, this raw.
Attempted murder was a personal kind of violence.
Mine… His gut tightened and he pushed the thought away.
"I know,"Mac gulped.
"How long did you know before I found out?" he asked.
She took a deep breath as her vision blurred.
"What do you want from me?" she rasped, shutting her eyes.
He was silent for so long her nerves felt scraped raw by the time he spoke. "Nothing you aren't prepared to give me."
It wouldn't matter if she left now, they had to have this conversation eventually. One way or another it was a rough road paved ahead for them.
Mac moistened her lips and answered quietly. "That day."
"But you suspected it before then…" Dick pressed, blue eyes narrowed to speculative slits and she glanced away.
Nodding once.
Chilled and exposed she rubbed her hands over her arms. "Is that why you decided to give us a shot? Because you might be carrying my kid?" Focusing on the IV behind him, her glistening gaze snapped back to his.
"No!" she denied. He held her gaze, still fiercely probing.
"Come here," he said her heart fluttering as he held his hand towards her.
Gnawing on her lip she was thankful of the interruption as the nurse returned, breaking their stand-off. Dick shot her a tight smile but his gaze never wavered. He lounged back against the plump pillows and waited, ready to bolt down the hallway after her, should Mac use this time to make her excuses and leave.
Stitches or no stitches…
"Ah here we are!" she announced handing over a bottle of ginger ale and packet of saltines.
"Thank you," Mac said gratefully.
"Good heavens, don't worry we all feel sick sometimes. It practically a pregnancy rite of passage! Oh my don't you look dead on your feet!" the nurse said raking her gaze over the slender brunette. "Sit, sit… please." She said pulling up a chair then reaching for the stethoscope around her neck.
It was then Dick realised how much paler Mac had become even since her arrival. Frowning he straightened watching as the nurse did some kind of quick examination. "She okay?" he demanded.
"Nothing to worry about.." she comforted Mac ignoring him. "I'm Thalia, senior nurse on staff. Can you tell me how far along you are?"
"Uh-umm about 8 or 9 weeks," Mac swallowed, nervously glancing at the bed.
"Has the morning sickness been an issue?" Thalia queried, shining a bright light into her eyes.
"Yeah" Dick answered on her behalf. Recalling how she had begun feeling sick during their trip to Weller and how they'd missed out on the cruise to Catalina Island with the rest of her friends because she'd been ill.
Signs had been there if only he'd taken the time to notice…
"Okay, well you are showing some signs of fatigue and dehydration. If you start feeling worse, we may have to get you a bed. I am going to see about some B6 supplements to nix that nausea. Have you discussed Hyperemesis Gravidarum with your doctor?" She gave her a baffled look. "Extreme morning sickness," Thalia translated.
Mac shook her head.
"Well it may be worth asking your parents, some of these things can be hereditary and it can be an early indicator of pre-eclampsia," the older nurse continued smoothing down her uniform.
"Big babies run in my family," Dick stated dryly.
Thalia's mouth formed into a perfect O when she realised she had rambled as she stood. "I'll go see about those supplements."
"Take all the time you need," Dick's voice came out gruff and hoarse as she left them.
Once again… Mac wished she'd never left home.
