Warning: If you're triggered by, or just really don't want to read about abortion, I'd suggest skipping this chapter, as well as chapter 34.

behind that wall that i've built so tall;

The city passed by in a blur. At each stop, a handful of people would exit the back doors and another handful would enter at the front, swiping their cards and finding seats. Still, no one paid Beth any attention. Carol remained watchful of her, glancing over every minute or so. But she was perceptive enough to see that Beth was too busy in her own head to want to talk for now.

At one point, they drove across a large bridge called the Tri Borough Bridge and crossed over the East River. Beth marveled through the window at the sight of the water and all the other cars driving on the bridge. She couldn't stop thinking about how they were suspended hundreds of feet above water. But then they were back on the regular street, and Manhattan and the East River were behind them and the passing neighborhood was gradually morphing again as they passed signs with arrows pointing towards the Bronx and Queens.

After nearly an hour of riding through the city and passing through more neighborhoods than Beth could count, they stood and exited at a stop in the Bronx. She noticed that once they'd passed over the Tri Borough Bridge, everything had started getting a little greener. There were more parks, trees, houses with actual yards. Silently, she followed Carol off the bus, keeping her head down and focusing on staying out of other peoples' way. The older woman led her across the street, to another bus stop that was caddy-corner from where they'd arrived.

The neighborhood they were in still looked distinctly "New York," though the differences varied. Beth gazed around in wonder, taking in as much of her surroundings as she could. The sidewalks were lined with businesses, all connected to each other, and there were more brick buildings than she could count, with windows and metal fire escapes up above the businesses that led to apartments. Carol read something on her phone while they waited for the next bus with a few other people. The others were all preoccupied with their phones or talking to each other, and again, Beth was grateful to be in such a large city where no one gave a shit that she existed.

Their second bus arrived after about twenty minutes and Carol and Beth boarded, finding a nearly identical interior. They found a seat together and the bus headed off again, making its way through the Bronx. They passed more Italian markets than Beth could count – tiny stores with generic names, as well as various delis and food shops and tiny, family-owned eateries that she'd never even heard of. She didn't know why, but she began to wonder if she'd have time to enjoy the city before she had to flee the country – to do the typical tourist things, like having a "New York slice" and seeing the Statue of Liberty. She wondered if Daryl would want to do those things with her. Then she thought about how much Malachi would probably love it. She could already picture the expression he'd have on his face, looking out from the tallest window in the Statue…

"We're almost there," Carol interrupted her thoughts, pointing out the window at something in the distance, toward the direction they were heading in.

Beth nodded, gazing out the window at nothing in particular. She wanted to say something, but she didn't know what. The only thing she could really see in the window from this angle was her own reflection, brought about by the way the sun was shining into the bus.

And she didn't even recognize herself at first. She could no longer tell where "Rosie" ended and Beth began.

"Doin' okay?" Carol asked more softly, her eyes showing concern as she looked at Beth.

Beth feigned a small smile. "Yeah. Just… ready t'be there."

Carol seemed to understand that Beth was struggling with a heap of thoughts and didn't ask her any more questions as they approached the bus stop and slowed to a halt. The women got up together and headed out the door, stepping onto the sidewalk and finding another neighborhood filled with a mixture of businesses and apartments and commuting citizens. Beth kept her sunglasses on and her head low. Still, no one seemed to be giving her a second glance.

She breathed in the air, wondering if she was imagining it or if it really was a little fresher in this part of the city. She wondered if it was all the plants and trees she kept seeing. It didn't hurt that she was getting whiffs of various foods from several different directions, and from the looks of the signs on nearby buildings, the smells could be coming from anywhere.

"You dyed your hair again?" Carol asked, and Beth looked over at her in surprise at first.

"Oh – yeah," she said, absent-mindedly reaching a hand up to touch her hair. The sun had dried it completely by now.

Carol nodded. "Looks good."

Beth smiled back. "Thanks."

They continued up the sidewalk and turned, then Carol's pace slowed and she pointed up ahead at one of the many interconnected businesses along the side. The street was lined with various businesses, from a fried chicken place to a market that simply called itself "Grocery Store," and across from that was a laundromat right next to a large apartment building. The building Carol pointed to was brick and had a glass front window, nearly indistinguishable from any of the other businesses on the street. The blinds were drawn inside, hiding the interior from public view. But they were close enough that she could read the white sign hanging above the entrance, its large, red letters reading: Sanctuary Women's Clinic. Just below that was a short tagline in smaller, black font: "Mercy For The Lost."

"That's the one," Carol announced, and they walked a little faster again.

Where are all the protestors? Beth thought, confused. Is that just Planned Parenthood? I thought it was all the abortion clinics. I thought you had to push through a whole crowd of people calling you a murderer and holding up pictures of dead fetuses just to get inside one of these places.

But it seemed that none of those things were true. Beth had never stepped foot near an establishment like this. She'd had the same doctor in Atlanta since she was a baby, and when it came time to get a gynecologist, she just went with the same one Maggie had – another friend of Daddy's, of course. It felt like he knew everyone in Atlanta and Senoia sometimes.

She'd been so antsy to approach a place like this, so sure that it would bring her nothing but unwanted attention. Yet she stepped into the small building and found a waiting room that looked no different from the waiting rooms she'd sat in back in Atlanta. There were a few other women there, but no crazy crowds or angry protestors. No sobbing women, no doctors rushing around in a frantic rush to attend to all the patients who needed help. And the posters and pamphlets scattered around the room weren't even abortion related – most of them were about STDs and birth control options. If she hadn't known what this place was for, Beth probably couldn't have correctly guessed.

She lifted her head high enough to glance around and spot a solitary camera hanging in the far corner, surveying the entirety of the waiting room with one lens. She looked away and kept her head low and facing away from the camera. She could deal with one – that was no big deal. Besides, who would think to check here for evidence of her presence?

Carol led her to the front desk, located to the left of the entrance. They passed a couple of other women sitting in chairs, staring down at their phones or magazines. But no one in the waiting room had given Beth another glance once they saw her enter, and she took off her sunglasses to rest them atop her head cautiously. She glanced around, but everyone in the room was looking down or talking amongst themselves. There were a couple of men there, but they seemed even more disinterested than the women.

A woman sat behind the front desk, a thick window separating her from the waiting room. Carol approached and placed her hand on the desk, leaning in close to the window to talk quietly. There was a TV in the corner of the room playing Family Feud at a low volume, but other than that, the waiting room was as quiet as a library.

"Good afternoon," Carol greeted with a polite smile, her voice coming out sweeter than sugar. "Can you let Dana know Carol's here? When she has time."

Beth could see the woman behind the desk nod and walk away, and then Carol turned and urged Beth to come with her and find a seat. They did, choosing a couple of stiff, cushioned chairs in the corner nearest to the door that sat opposite of the front entrance. There was a large sign posted on the door that read: Authorized Entrance Only. Beth guessed that was where the doctor or nurse would be coming from.

"So… Dana?" Beth asked quietly, leaning in closer to Carol and staring at her with wide, nervous eyes.

Carol nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. "Yeah, she's a friend. You'll like her – she's a pretty incredible woman. She gave up her position as one of the top surgeons at New York Presbyterian Hospital to open this clinic… But she said this is her dream job – ta help low-income women who need it the most. And women who can't turn to anyone else for… whatever reason."

Beth's surprise showed on her face and Carol smiled in satisfaction. They shared an unspoken understanding that she was referring to women like Beth – women who were running, or who couldn't run and didn't have the choice of hiding. Beth could only hope this doctor was as nice and understanding as Carol was making her out to be. What if she turned Beth away because she didn't have any ID or paperwork? Or, though less possible but certainly worse, what if she recognized Beth from the news?

"Is she nice…?" She asked, quiet and hesitant.

Carol's blue eyes softened and she smiled. "Yeah… she's really nice."

Beth pursed her lips and nodded, then looked away to feign interest in the stack of magazines sitting on the table a few feet away. She reached out and picked one up, thumbing through articles about "spicy sex tips" and "embarrassing dating confessions" in an attempt to slow her overworked mind. This passed the time, slowly but surely, for the next thirty minutes they spent waiting. Meanwhile, a nurse was opening the door nearby and stepping out with a clipboard every five or ten minutes to call the name of another woman. By the fifth time the door opened, Beth didn't even look up from the enthralling article about sex trafficking that she'd come across. Then Carol nudged her leg lightly and she lifted her head, looking to Carol and then to the brown-haired woman standing by the door.

This woman was older than the nurse who'd been calling names, maybe in her forties or fifties. She was heavyset and had pale skin and thin-framed, black glasses over her green eyes, and the hints of forming wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. She wore light makeup, her short, brown hair trimmed short, a few inches past her ears, and what looked like a pants suit beneath a long, white labcoat. A silver badge pinned to her chest held a red cross symbol and read: Dr. Dana Hatfield.

Silently, Beth thought this woman looked like she had at least eight photos of her grandchildren sitting on a desk in her office. And it made her feel a bit better, because meeting Dr. Hatfield's eyes and seeing the kind smile on her face was already helping to put her at ease.

She set the magazine down and Carol gently grabbed her arm, standing up and leading her over to introduce the two women. Beth followed along, pulling her arm back to her side as soon as Carol had let go. She stared up at the doctor, who was still smiling at her. But she noticed Dr. Dana studying her in more ways than one. Beth could practically see the question in her eyes: And what's your story?

"Thanks for doing this, Dana," Carol said with a smile, then gestured to Beth. "This is Rosie."

Dana's voice was soft and patient when she spoke, still watching Beth's face thoughtfully. "Nice to meet you, Rosie. I'm Dana. Or Dr. Hatfield. Whichever you prefer."

Beth smiled and Dana reached out a hand. Beth took it for a brief handshake, replying, "Nice to meet you, too…"

Then the women all looked at each other, Dana raising her eyebrows. Carol returned the look, then smiled and stepped aside.

"Alright – I'll wait here," she said, looking to Beth. "If you need anything."

Beth nodded. "Okay – thanks."

"Well, let's head back," Dana said cheerfully, then led Beth through the door and into a hallway that smelled a lot like the doctor's office she used to go to as a kid.

They walked past several identical doors, reaching one near the end and stepping inside to find a small exam room. There was a small stool near a desk at one side and the bed on the other, surrounded by a few darkened machines and a sink with medical supplies across from it. The walls were decorated with more posters like the ones in the waiting room.

"Go ahead and have a seat on the bed," Dana instructed as she took a seat on the stool, setting down the clipboard in her hands and pulling out her pen to begin writing at the desk.

Beth went to the bed and stepped on the small platform in front of it, then hopped up atop the crinkly, plastic sheet, legs dangling over the edge as her boots hovered a few feet off the ground. She picked at her fingernails nervously, heart racing in her chest.

"Okay, so first of all – don't worry about your confidentiality. We hold discretion to the highest priority here, and no one but me and Carol will know that you've been seen. And whatever is discussed in this room won't be shared with anyone, not even her," Dana explained, scribbling something down onto the clipboard before turning in the stool to face Beth and meet her eyes. "Do you have any questions for me?"

Where do I start, Beth thought.

But she said, "Um… you don't need ID or… my last name, even?"

Dana smiled and shook her head. "No. Don't worry about it, it's taken care of. Carol is a good friend and this is exactly the kind of stuff I wanted to help with when I opened shop."

Beth let out a small breath and nodded.

"Now, it's my understanding that you've taken a home pregnancy test and gotten a positive result…?" Dr. Hatfield continued, her tone signaling that she was ready to get down to business.

Beth nodded again, glancing down at her dangling boots. "Fourteen."

"Excuse me?" Dr. Dana asked.

Beth cleared her throat and spoke a little louder, "Fourteen… tests. I took fourteen. And they all said… positive. I had one that said I was three to five weeks."

Dana's eyebrows rose but she didn't say anything, immediately turning to grab her clipboard and jot something down. She held it before her, pressed against her palm, while she faced Beth and continued asking questions.

"Okay, that's probably pretty conclusive then," she said. "We'll do a blood test anyway… And what was the first day of your last period?"

Beth paused, brain kicking into gear and trying to recall those exact dates again. But she wasn't sure she could remember any specifics, especially after everything else that had happened. She knew the conception date, wasn't that enough?

When she was silent and staring off thoughtfully for more than a few seconds, Dana suggested, "Would it help to look at a calendar? Your best estimate will do, we just need an idea."

Beth nodded and Dr. Hatfield grabbed a small calendar off the desk and handed it over to her.

August Eleventh… and then a week before that, Beth thought, staring down at the tiny, black numbers on the calendar, her finger pointed to the month of August 2017 and guiding her eyes back to July. She focused, forcing herself to remember everything she could. It was… late July? I think. I didn't wanna go swimming that one day because I had cramps… but what day was that?

She sighed to herself in frustration, deciding that her best guess would have to do for the doctor. Beth raised her head and handed the calendar back. "I wanna say the end of July. Like, maybe the twenty-fifth or somethin'."

Dana nodded and returned the calendar to the desk, jotting down another note on her clipboard. "Okay, that works. And you usually have normal periods? Three to five days, every thirty days?"

"But – it was August… eleventh," Beth said, brow furrowed as she watched the doctor pause and look at her quizzically. "That was… that's when it happened. When I got pregnant. I know. It's the only possible time I could've gotten pregnant."

Dr. Hatfield nodded in understanding, lowering her clipboard for a moment. "And you're probably right. But with pregnancy, we measure from the last day of your last period to estimate gestation. It's always an educated guess, you could be later or earlier."

"Oh," Beth said, nodding as she tried to absorb this information. That was a small detail she'd skimmed past during all her research, and now she felt foolish. Her cheeks heated up.

But Dana smiled reassuringly and went on, "Now, about your period…"

The questions continued and Beth rolled out her answers, watching the doctor scribble things onto the clipboard. Dana asked about Beth's period, her PMS symptoms, her pregnancy symptoms, and of course, her sex life. Beth explained through a grimace how her ex had continued after the condom broke and she didn't realize until it was too late. For the first time, she realized she couldn't – and didn't really have to – lie. The details didn't matter anyway. She even revealed, sheepishly, that she'd been having sex for the past four or five days, blushing and looking away when she admitted to going without protection. But the doctor didn't give her any judgmental glares or glances, and Beth was grateful for that. It didn't make her face any less red, though.

When the interviewing process was done, Dr. Hatfield brought a nurse in to take Beth to a separate small room and draw her blood. She explained that they'd test her for most STDs, as well, just to be on the safe side, and Beth didn't object. She followed the nurse to the small room and let her prick her finger and arm. It had been ages since she'd had to get blood taken or get a shot, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as she remembered. She also had to do a swab of her mouth, and after that, Beth was sent into a small bathroom with a plastic cup that she had to fill with urine. Luckily, she hadn't taken a bathroom break since before the bus, so it didn't take long. When all that was done, the nurse made small talk about the weather and Beth put on her fakest smile until she was back in the exam room and sitting on the bed again.

They'd instructed her to wait while they got the results of her pregnancy test and a couple of her STD tests. But before the nurse had left the exam room, she'd pulled out a big, paper gown and explained that Beth needed to strip from the waist down and prepare for her pelvic exam whenever the doctor returned. Beth could only nod and watch the door shut securely.

It felt odder than usual to be stripping down in a new place, wearing the thin, paper gown and feeling the cold AC draft between her legs as she struggled to hop back onto the bed without sitting completely bare-assed on the ripped paper sheet. Not only was this a new place, but it was a new city, a new state, all new people. She tried not to think of it, but it was just one more thing to make her feel completely alone.

She'd left her boots and pants in a pile on a nearby chair, and after a few minutes of sitting uncomfortably and looking around at the same bland decorations she'd already been staring at for ten minutes, Beth reached over and grabbed her phone from the pocket of her jeans. She didn't intend on doing anything in particular, it was more for the sake of a distraction than anything. But when she unlocked the screen, she found a new text message from Daryl.

With a sheepish smile, she read:

Thinkin about ya…

The blood rushed to her face and she felt herself blushing, even though there was no one else in the room and no cameras to see her. Now, was that fluttering coming to life in her gut from the parasite, or the memory of Daryl's arms around her less than twelve hours ago?

Despite the circumstances and how inappropriate it felt, Beth typed out a response and pressed Send on a message that said, "Well that's interesting… same here. :)"

There were a million other things she could've, and kind of wanted, to say.

A couple of minutes later, there was a knock on the door and the nurse's voice coming from the other side, "Are you ready?"

"Yeah!" Beth called back, and watched the door slowly open.

The nurse slipped inside, holding a clipboard that looked similar to the one Dana had. She raised her eyes from the paper and met Beth's expectant gaze.

"Okay, the results came back from your blood test," she explained gently. "And… it's positive. You are pregnant."

Okay, there it is, Beth thought. I guess those tests were… well, they had to be right.

She smiled weakly, though, and nodded. "Yeah… Thought so."

A look of concern crossed the nurse's face for a second, then she glanced back down at the paper. "Okay. So, Dr. Hatfield will be back in a minute to do a pelvic exam and talk about your options."

Beth nodded again and watched the nurse leave.

Her mind wandered back to the same old depressive routine while she sat and waited for Dana to return. The typical, self-admonishing pity party. She couldn't help but feel ashamed as she sat there, exposed and more vulnerable than ever. Not that she needed any more reasons to blame herself, but the situation almost felt like a punishment. For being so reckless and so weak when she'd always been taught the exact opposite. If she'd only been smarter like Shawn, or tougher like Maggie, or more unwavering like Daddy…

She pushed these thoughts out as quickly as they'd come the moment she heard the door opening.

Dr. Hatfield stepped inside and shut the door behind her, clipboard in hand. She took her seat on the stool and faced Beth with a solemn and expectant look on her face.

"Well, the home tests were accurate," she said softly, and Beth wondered if Dana was expecting some sort of dramatic breakdown.

I do that shit on my own time, lady, she thought. Don't worry, you don't have to deal with it.

Dana continued, "The good news is that you're clear of STDs… Now, it's time to think about what you'll do. There are lots of options, and – "

"I can't have it," Beth said. The words burst out before she could really think about them, and she hadn't meant to interrupt the doctor, but she couldn't stand to hear this speech again. Her stomach couldn't handle it. She took a small relief in knowing that Jimmy hadn't left her with any more parting gifts, but that was a tiny light in a sea of darkness.

Dr. Hatfield raised her eyebrows, a bit surprised, but then nodded understandingly. "Okay. As long as this is completely your own decision, then we can discuss moving forward with termination."

Beth nodded insistently. "No one else even knows. It's… I can't have it. I just can't – I can't be pregnant. I need to feel better. I need you t'take – take it out of me..."

She hadn't intended to let so much desperation leak into her voice, but the reality of the situation was really starting to fall down upon her and sitting in this exam room, exposed beneath the paper gown, made her feel ready to burst. She was desperate. Her heart was starting to beat so loudly, she was sure it would echo off the walls. Her lungs felt tight. She was forcing back tears but they pooled in her eyes and she blinked them away quickly.

Dana's voice came out calm and soothing as she stared into Beth's eyes. "Okay. I understand. Don't worry, there's still plenty of time. You won't be forced to do anything you don't want to… I know you're probably scared right now. This is a scary thing, but I don't want you making any decisions based solely on that emotion."

Something about this sentence made Beth's breathing slow and she nodded, willing herself to relax. Even though this doctor didn't have the faintest clue just how dire the situation actually was.

"Don't let the fear make your choices for ya," Irma's voice echoed in her head.

For a brief moment, she thought about Daryl's crooked half-smile and his sleep-mussed hair. Her heart stopped thumping against her chest like it was trying to escape.

"If you need some time to think, you can come back – "

"No," Beth had interrupted her again. But once again, she didn't want to be talked out of it. She just wanted to get it over with. "No, I already talked with Carol… I-I just want it… done. Over with. I wanna move on."

In more ways than one, she added silently.

Dr. Hatfield nodded and looked down to scribble something on her clipboard. Then she raised her head again and said, "Okay. You wanna do it today?"

The question took Beth by surprise and she blinked, staring back at the doctor with wide eyes. Her heart leapt. "You could do that?"

Dana smiled faintly and something about her face relaxed Beth and made her feel more confident. "If you're certain, yes. I had a cancellation shortly before you arrived, so the time isn't an issue. But I want you to be absolutely sure first. Do you wanna talk to Carol first? I can bring her back."

Beth chewed on the inside of her cheek and thought, A cancellation? Conveniently? Sounds like I was meant to do this. Today.

She shook her head. "No… that's okay. I… I know. I kinda decided… before I got here."

Dana nodded and listened attentively, and Beth aspired to reach her level of self-composure. But it took everything she had just to keep from overflowing nearly every single day. And right now was no different. Her throat was sore from fighting back tears. She hated being so emotional, so visibly fragile.

Just one more thing to make her ready to be rid of the parasite once and for all.

When Beth didn't say anything else for a long moment, Dr. Hatfield softly explained, "We'll need to do a transvaginal ultrasound and confirm how far along you are, then we can discuss the options. But one more thing – is Carol going to be taking you home today?"

Options? Beth thought, recalling the research she'd done. I guess she means pill or surgery… Shit, I didn't even think about making that decision. I wasn't prepared to get that far today.

"Um – yeah, we took the bus. Why?" Beth answered, a bit confused.

"Because whichever method you choose, I want to make sure someone is helping you get home," Dana explained. "Are you staying with her? Or do you live alone?"

These questions made Beth a little nervous but she cautiously answered, "No… we're neighbors. I live with a roommate and – uh, his kid… Why does that matter?"

Dana raised her eyebrows as if Beth should've been able to figure it out for herself, then her expression softened as she gazed at Beth. "Because you'll need a support system. And if you don't have one, I'll make one for you. But I won't let you walk out of this clinic today until I know you have someone there who will be ready to help you – and comfort you – after it's all said and done."

Beth's mouth fell open a bit but she didn't have anything to say. Should she thank the doctor? She didn't know. Dr. Hatfield was very straight-forward and her candor had surprised Beth.

And why had her mind jumped to Daryl at the mention of a support system? There was no way in hell she could start leaning on Daryl. If she began to rely on someone else, that's when she'd start to get too comfortable. Too vulnerable. She was already taking a risk by opening up and trusting Carol as much as she had.

Dana continued, "We care about mental health just as much as physical health here. And I don't take these things lightly. Do you understand?"

Beth nodded, pursing her lips. I'm not unstable. You don't need to act like I'm gonna implode.

The doctor asked again, "So do you have someone? Or will you allow Carol to help you?"

Beth swallowed and nodded again. "Yeah, I… yeah. I'll um, stay with her for a bit…"

For the first time since meeting Dana, she'd blatantly lied to her. Beth had no intention of staying with Carol. Nor did she have any intention of going home and confiding in Daryl. The last thing he needed was to find out that she'd had an abortion. She could only imagine how he'd react, especially as a father. But she didn't need help. Beth knew that Dr. Dana knew best, but she also knew that the doctor didn't really know Beth. She didn't know what she was capable of. The only help Beth needed was to get this thing out of her uterus. Past that, she'd be fine. She wasn't going to slit her wrist again, she wasn't going to swallow a bottle of pills. Sure, those things seemed awfully tempting sometimes, especially lately. But she had something much, much larger to live for these days.

She could never send herself to the grave with that many tons of guilt packed away inside her chest.

to be continued…

A/N: Of all the doctors who've been on TWD, I chose Dana to be in the women's clinic. If you don't remember, she was killed by zombie Tobin in the show. RIP.
As has been the case with the majority of NYC-related things in this fic, it wouldn't have been possible without GracieMae11, so THANK YOU for helping me to accurately depict the Bronx! lol