A/N: This will be the only D&E scene for a few chapters. This can't be soft. It can't be happy and gooey. It's got to be ugly. She hates him, thinks he's ruined her 'st tended to her after she was brought close to alcohol poising. They wouldn't be nice to each other here. She's dead inside and even knowing that, he won't placate her, he can't. (He never did! Watch the scenes after she found out he lied, right up until Miranda dies)

The father of the baby isn't important YET, and won't really be until down the line. So while D&E will know what happened and one or two others might find out, there won't be any real paternity drama for a time to come. I will fill in the details of Thanksgiving night, but again, it's not the most important part of the story.

Chapter 3

He had to wait almost an hour for Jackson to leave.

He'd tried to distract himself with patients, with files, with anything he could possibly get his hands on that would help him to keep his mind off of her.

Off of the huge news he was sitting on. She didn't know. She couldn't. She wouldn't have gone on a bender like that if she knew she was pregnant. Erica was a lot of a things, but reckless and careless with a child wasn't one of them.

What was she going to do with this news? How would she take it? She would tell him he wasn't the father. She would insist that Jackson was the father and dismiss him from her room. He could count though, and nine weeks meant that no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't be sure.

How had they gotten themselves into this? None of this was supposed to have happened the way it was. They were only meant to protect Bianca. There wasn't meant to be a ruse, a pretend affair that ended up daring them to resist what was happening between them. He should have stopped this before it ever started. Should have told the truth in the police station all those months ago. He should have never played along.

He forced out a strangled breath, trying to summon the courage to open her door. The nurses had left for the time being, but would return shortly with a sedative. That didn't leave much time.

She was wide awake when he walked in and turned her eyes on him immediately.

He'd never seen her like this. Never seen her usually so bright and vibrant brown eyes so dull and lifeless.

She watched him enter the room, watched him slid a stool next to her bed. Watch him sit. And said nothing. She didn't even move. The only signs she was alive and conscious was an occasional blink.

"How you feeling?" David asked as he sat down.

She stared up at him, studying the lines of his face, the way his eyes flashed and burned into her. "Oh those gorgeous brown eyes, and the smooth, soft voice of yours. I'd almost think you care, doctor."

David forced at a hard breath, he didn't want to do this with her. "You know I how much I care."

She nodded, but her eyes didn't spark and burn against him. Her voice was devoid of the usual fire and venom she liked to throw at him. "Just enough to break my heart. Tear my life to pieces."

"I didn't come here to talk about that," He warned. "I've got your results back."

"Oh?" She asked, raising a curious eyebrow at him. "Am I going to die?"

His eyes slipped shut and he winced. That was the most alive he'd heard her sound since she's regained consciousness and it chilled him to the bone. "No. Lucky for you, you're stuck with us for a long time to come."

"That's wonderful isn't? Sentenced to long life of pain and lies."

He didn't know where she was, what was going on in that beautiful mind of hers, but he couldn't get to her. "It's better than being dead, Erica."

"So says you, doctor God." She turned away from him at that, done with him. Done with anything to do with life, love and happiness. She didn't anything worth holding onto anymore. "When are you releasing me?"

"Tomorrow," He told her, unflinching at her icy tone. "There's something we need to talk about first. Something in your test results."

"If it's life threatening, you have my permission to deny treatment. Let me die."

"Damn it, Erica," He shouted.

She jumped slightly, caught off guard by the force of his words.

"Don't take care of yourself for you. Don't do it for Bianca. Or Jack. But damn it, do it for your baby."

He watched her eyes flash at that, as confusion danced through them. He had been right, she didn't know. "You didn't know, did you?"

She refused to look at him. To acknowledge what he was saying, despite the fact that she'd been suspecting for the past week.

"You're nine weeks. Meaning you conceived on or around Thanksgiving."

She scoffed at him, still refusing to look at him. "It's not yours." She closed her eyes once the words left her mouth. She sucked in a breath and let it go slowly and painfully. Her chest was tightened and her heart suddenly ached. He saw right through her. Knew she was lying. She couldn't be sure whether this was his child or Jacksons.

"You're know you can't say that for sure without a DNA test," He told her, watching her turn now, watching her emotionless eyes lock with his.

She raised an eyebrow at him, challenged him to push her. "Jackson is the father."

"You better hope he is," He shot back. If she wanted to play this game, he would. If she wanted to throw punches and go for blood, he would give as good as he got. "because I won't have my child swimming in vodka."

She winced at that, hurt at the implication. Surely he didn't believe she would have bought that bottle of vodka if she knew she was pregnant? "Lucky it isn't yours then."

He jumped up from the stool at that, and put his hands on either side of her face. Turning her to look at him. "Whatever hell you are in. Whatever pain has put that look in your gorgeous eyes. Whatever has taken the life from your cheeks…fight it, Erica. Fight back. Push and pull. Claw your way out. Do not lose yourself. You're stronger than this."

Her eyes were closed, and she was biting her lip. Forcing back tears. She shook her head forcefully. Who the hell did he think he was?

"I know you're in there, Erica and I know you will find your way out. And that's why I'm going to walk out of here and not say a word about the possibility that this child is mine. But if you end up in here again, I will lay it all to bare." He moved his hands from her cheeks and stepped back from the bed.

She turned her head instantly, defiantly. "Do whatever you want, David. What's a little more pain and misery?"

"I'll be back in the morning to check on you." He turned and left then. He didn't look back until he was outside the door, until he was sure it closed behind him. He leaned against the wall just outside the doorframe. He closed his eyes and took slow, deep breaths. Trying to slow his racing heart. He wanted to run back in there and pull her into his arms, hold her and let her cry. Let her scream. Let her ache and burn from the betrayal. He wanted to take it all away.
She was too far lost to them for that to happen. To far lost in the pain to think clearly and rationally. She wanted out of there so she could have a drink. He saw it all in her eyes. In cool, icy reaction she had to the news of her pregnancy.

It was going to take everything they had pull her back from the brink.

And if they stumbled even once, they ran a real risk of losing her.

To be continued