Applications

FanOfMost asked for a oneshot of Emma in jail looking at adoption applications and talking about them with her unborn baby boy.

Emma didn't really know what to do. How could she? This was a completely messed up situation. One thing was for certain in Emma's mind: she wasn't fit to be a parent to the baby she was carrying. They deserved better than that. She had made the decision only days after taking her pregnancy test that she wouldn't put her baby into the system for the few months until she was released. No, that could get too messy. She was going to put him straight up for a closed adoption. She didn't want this child falling through the net like she did. She wanted to give them the best life possible, even if it wasn't with her. The prison had helped her get in touch with an adoption agency. One of their agents came and met her and gave her a stack of potential parents for her to narrow down. Emma had never imagined she'd have any say in this, but now that she did, she suddenly found she was very picky.

"I don't know about this one, kid, the dad's in the military. That means he'd be away from you a lot. How do you feel about that?" Nothing. "Come on kid, gimme some kinda clue. Work with me." The baby gave Emma a rather harsh kick. Emma winced, rubbing her belly. She suspected that was more to do with her interrupting their nap time than them giving their opinion on their potential parents. Emma sighed as she shuffled through all the papers. She had looked over them all and found stupid little reasons not to choose any of them. They lived in a state Emma didn't like. She thought their surname was funny and the kid might get teased for it. She didn't like one of their jobs. One of them had a medical complaint that wouldn't affect the kid in any way, but still, it gave Emma reason to pretend like she could rightfully say no. She sat back against her bunk. She knew there was nothing really the matter with most of them. It was just a sucky situation. How could she be responsible for choosing her own replacements? No, it just didn't feel right. However she chose, Emma knew she would always have doubts. It was better for the agency to be responsible. She knew they'd choose the baby a good home. She'd call Tim up tomorrow and tell him her decision. Or, non-decision really.

"You're gonna be ok, kid." Emma sighed, rubbing her swollen belly. "They'll give you good parents. I'm sorry it can't be me. I'm sorry you've gotta be born like this. I'm sorry your dad took off. I'm sorry I got pulled into his schemes and ended up in here. I'm sorry that-"

"Count time!" Emma closed her eyes, gathering her thoughts. She struggled off the bed and stood at the end of her bunk. She looked down at her belly, a hand still placed over it.

"I'm just…sorry."