A/N: Wow, has it been long. Two and a half months without an update. Which may not seem that long to some of you (I mean, one of my favourite authors on here hasn't even written a story in over a year and another hasn't updated in seven months), but to me as a writer, that's a long time. Don't think I'd completely forgotten this. There was just a lot of stuff I needed to work out. I went through several drafts (okay. . .they were more like beginning sentences) before this baby just popped into my brain the other day. It was difficult trying to come up with where I wanted my characters to go. To be honest, I was thinking maybe I'd just have Lena give birth in this chapter and then give an epilogue and have that be that. But then BABAM! This showed up. I guess being sick has its advantages.

This is the longest chapter for this story. It's 9&1/2 thousand words. So yeah, I was busy. And there are going to mistakes, I promise you. I think that since I've introduced a new character to the mix this chapter, we'll have a bit more time with Lena and Alex. I can't promise chapters will come out on a schedule. I don't have this thing prewritten like my other new story about Degrassi, but I can promise more than just two more chapters. I have plans...

Please enjoy this next chapter of Adam and Eve and I hope you come back for more whenever more comes back for you.

Disclaimer: I own neither Delerium nor Frightened Rabbit's song "The Woodpile" or "The Sun" by Mick Jagger wannabe Adam Levine and his band Maroon 5 (yes that's a joke. . .I think. If you were offended, then it was a joke, calm down. If you weren't offended and laughed, it was a joke, thank you for laughing. If you were neither offended nor pleased, then, as Lena would say, fuck you! Okay, not really. You have the right to an opinion. As long as it's my opinion. And in my opinion, my joke was utterly tummy tickling). I also don't own anything to do with New Mexico. Except a sweatshirt, but I don't think that really matters. . .


I'm trapped in an abandoned building, come find me now,
we'll hide out, we'll speak in our secret tongue.
Will you come back to my corner, spent too long alone tonight.
Would you come and brighten my corner, a lit torch through the woodpile.

The Woodpile | Frightened Rabbit

Chapter Five : The Woodpile

I'm sitting on my porch steps in Portland. The sun is out and shining down on me and I imagine a halo of golden sunbeams encircling my head. For once, I don't feel strange or boring or plain. I'm not an in-between girl, I'm a sought after girl. One with beauty and stature. A girl guys go crazy for.

My mind races and I chastise myself for thinking like that. I'm not allowed to think like that. The Laws of Segregation would have me thrown in the crypts if they could read my thoughts.

Clouds march along, singing their wispy song and birds try to tweet along to the wonderful tune, but lull out after a moment, realising their attempt at matching the sky is all for naught. People, cureds with their three-pronged scars glowing in the shiny daylight, walk busily down the street not sparing me a second glance.

I watch them all move along to their own beat, I feel the pattern they stomp out in their step. And then I hear that song, that one he showed me one time: "Moving on down my street, I see people I won't ever meet. Think of her, take a breath, feel the beat in the rhythm of my steps. And sometimes it's a sad song-"

The door slams open, hitting the side of the house with a loud bang! The sound builds and echoes like a bullet ricocheting off metal and I duck instinctively.

Aunt Carol grabs my arm and pulls me up. She starts screaming at me but I only catch scattered words here and there, shouts of terror and anger and shame spewed in my direction. Her hand motions towards my belly the entire time.

"You, how could you! You whore, you slut!" She yells, yanking at my jaw and pulling me up to her face so our eyes are level. "Just what were you thinking?" Her voice wavers in anger and I see flashes of heat behind her eyes.

I look down to see what all her fuss is about and watch as my stomach stretches. I feel it stretching. It pulls at my skin and grows and grows and grows.

"What's happening?!" I shriek, stepping away from Carol's demanding eyes. I touch the thing protruding from my body and tap it. It taps back.

"You horrid girl! You stupid girl. Just like your mother. You-you invalid!"

And then something's gushing down my legs at a quickening pace like its racing to see if it can reach the ground before my knees. I look down and see blood, a waterfall of blood spilling from somewhere inside of me.

I see myself faintly in its reflection. I'm red and squiggly like a Picasso painting. My innocence is gone, my chances of hope are slashed.

The thing in my stomach pokes against my skin again and again and again like it can tell I'm scared, that I'm lonely.

Sweat runs down my body like blood when I wake up. Lightning flashes outside and thunder rumbles to match the bright sparks of light. The pair of terror dances together for what seems like hours before I feel myself beginning to calm down.

Something stiff is touching my arm and I turn to see Alex in sleeping glory at my side. I'm not alone, I think to myself, touching my stomach, I'm never alone.

I watch his golden glazed skin and follow it along the expanse of his turned body. His bare back ripples in his sleep and I trace lazy lines with my fingertip along the taut muscles. A few scrapes and bruises mar his skin from the amount of work he puts in at this place and I take extra time to smooth my finger down them, circling them and blowing on them as if my touch, my breath, could heal him.

Since it happened, since we knew for a fact that I was pregnant, when my stomach started to grow and I couldn't stop throwing up, his presence changed. He started walking with an air of moderate superiority, like he felt he belonged. It wasn't like when we first got here when he shied away from anything to do with me. When he treated me like I didn't exist.

He looks at me now with pride shining behind his eyes. He kisses my steadily swelling belly with warm, smiling lips.

Alex's smile is never too far from him anymore. It's only when the nightmares wake him up that it vanishes. And that's only until I shake him awake and hold him until his breathing steadies and his tears stop falling.

I never ask what his nightmares are about because he never asks what mine are about. He tells me sometimes and I tell him all the time. I never worry I share too much and I never worry he shares too little.

Usually he says the nightmares are about me: Losing me, the baby I share my body with. My heart wants to burst when he says those things and I shut him up by delicately kissing his lips.

He responds by tightening his grip on me and dragging my nightdress over my head before nipping and kissing and licking his way across every plane on my entire body. Our sighs and moans drown out our fears in those moments, in those moments when we become one and one alone.

Sometimes, though, they're about worse things. About his time as a child running through the Wilds, being chased like the invalid everyone, even himself sometimes, believed him to be.

When those rattle his brain, I don't kiss him. I only curve my body to his and whisper stories of my life back in Portland, the horrible, lonely life I lived before I met him, before he took me away and taught me what love was. What being loved was.

Suddenly, I can't take being the only awake anymore. The baby is kicking me, squaring off against whatever organ its chosen this time.

"Alex, wake up," I call to him, shaking his sleeping body. He groans something unintelligible before turning over on his other side, ignoring my voice. "Alexandra," I mock, poking at his gorgeous face. His nose scrunches a little and I giggle childishly at the sight of such a handsome man doing something so trivial.

"I'm up, I'm up," he says quickly, his body moving up fast and his eyes slipping open. He rubs at them in annoyance, sleep still wanting to pull him back to dream land.

But I need to tell him something important.

"It kicked," I say plainly and watch as the words sink into his brain. He looks at me bewildered and then a smile rockets across his lips. Alex lifts my shirt to just below my breasts, allowing me to guide his warm hand to where the baby repeatedly bashes into me.

It dawns on me that I don't care Alex can see my panties. I always hated that word anyway, but it took me months to be okay with him seeing any part of me outside of our passionate encounters in the bedroom.

It goes again, knocking against some organ somewhat painfully. Alex's face brightens immediately and he lets out a shocked laugh. "I felt it," he sighs, smoothing his thumb gently across my stomach.

We sit like this for some time in silence, our faces lighting up whenever the baby inside of my belly forces my skin to move. Alex's warm hands glide circles around wherever the baby kicks and small goosebumps rise against my skin when the baby meets his father's touches.

The early spring wind mixing with the splattering rain blows through the trailer every now and again and I shiver even through the warmth of Alex's skin. We're family, he and I. Even if I don't have a ring on my finger or share his name, we created something that binds us together eternally.

It shocks me sometimes when I remember. When I remember all sorts of different things. Like when I think back to a time when I was utterly terrified of the way Alex made me feel. When I was sure I was dying because Alex had winked at me and I felt like my heart would explode. Or that time he whispered grey into my ear and I knew, just knew, that we were going to doom each other.

We were equal parts innocent and totally and completely guilty then. Neither of us knew where we would end up months from our first meeting. And it could have gone differently. We could have escaped without the horrible scars and police dog bite marks, but then we wouldn't be where we were right now, in a little trailer in a wood with nothing but love and rain surrounding us. Or we could have gone our separate ways, me living a life with Brian Scharff and him running wherever the wind took him.

Now we spend our days huddled together in this little world of ours in the Wilds. He goes off to work in the morning while I trudge along behind him to the kitchen to get my vitamins and food. Molly stands by my side when Alex isn't there, supporting my footfalls and throwing down anyone who says we should get rid of the baby, who argues Alex and I are too young, too naive, too unworldly.

It's easy to forget it all and I won't lie by saying I don't forget myself from time to time. It just slips from my mind. Things that should be important, like my age or my past. Sometimes I worry Alex and I are too unprepared, too scared to properly take care of a baby out here. More often than not I want to forget these things. I want to get lost in the false security.

Just a year ago I couldn't even look a guy in the eye without wanting to kill myself and now I'm nearly six months pregnant. A baby is growing inside of my stomach, kicking and feeding off of me. It relies on me.

So I pretend. I pretend a lot. I make believe that Alex and I grew up before the cure. We are just another example of teenage pregnancy. Too young lovers too in love to use . . . protection. I tell myself that we're going to get married in a big white ceremony like they used to have, like the ones in all the poetry and books here.

I make it so we can love each other without there being any backlash. Any guilt riding through my veins. Alex constantly tells me it's nothing to be ashamed of, but old habits die hard and I can't let go of the idea that what we do is wrong. And maybe I've been less than willing to let go since we found out about the baby.

My dreams, or maybe they're nightmares, fill my head with fantasies of Alex and want. So much want that when I wake up, I can still feel it gnawing at my lower belly. It flutters through me, it aches in my chest. It makes me want to do something about it. To damn it all to hell and beg Alex to take me.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Alex asks suddenly, his voice assaulting the silence and my hidden thoughts. I blush furiously and scold myself for thinking such things. His hand smooths along my heated cheek lovingly and I press my hand against his, holding it there and letting my warmth spread to him.

I nod my head and he cocks his to one side waiting for me to elaborate. "I did, but I'm all right now. It wasn't too bad. Just Carol telling me I was an. . .invalid." I spit the word out like it's acid on my tongue. Which lately it has been. I so carelessly used that word when there was still a minuscule amount of doubt surrounding the existence of the Wilds and its inhabitants. Now they're my friends, though, and I fear what they would do, how they would look at me if they knew how poorly I thought of them when I was younger.

"Well, you're not. You're wonderful," he soothes, leaning forward to kiss my stomach. That familiar and almost unwanted but definitely wanted fire sparks up, the flames pooling between my thighs. I run a hand along my leg desperately, trying to rid my head of the need, the overwhelming desire. "You're both wonderful."

Oh, God, and there it is. His acknowledgment of us.

I take in a shaky breath and smile down at him, running my fingers through his shaggy hair. "You are such a sweet talker."

He laughs and the sound washes over me like sunlight. His eyes crinkle and become slits but I can still see the caramel tinge and it's all I can do to not kiss him right then.

"It's part of my charm," he replies, still running a hand absently along the length of my belly. He goes all the way down to the waistband of my underwear and all the way back up to just below my breasts.

I shiver against his touch and lose my battle with my eyes. They slam shut and I arch my back into Alex's caressing hand.

"You okay?" He whispers. The sound startles me; it's right in my ear. I nod my head, dazed. His breath washes over my cheeks and I want to soak his voice into my skin, want to live off of the oxygen he supplies. "Are you sure?" He continues, his hand running up between my breasts. "Because you seem a little breathless."

"I'm fine," I choke out, completely aware of how not fine I sound. Rain splatters against the trailer still and when there's an especially strong gust of wind I swear I can feel the trailer rock slightly.

When a loud crack of thunder rolls through the trailer, shaking me horribly, I shrink away from Alex's touch. He looks at me curiously and I watch as a flicker of recognition flames in his eyes.

"Sorry, sorry-I shouldn't have-sorry," his words come out quick and nervous. His hands, once suspended in mid-air where my body used to be, drop to his sides. Alex sits up properly and crosses his legs like a pretzel. He sets his elbows on his knees and his palms on his chin. His eyes look regretful, scared almost.

"No, no," I begin to say, but he shakes his head and closes his beautiful tawny eyes. I miss them instantly. It's not fair that I miss them. Steadily, along with the growing of my belly, my aversion to . . . sex . . . has increased.

It makes me nervous. He can stare at my belly all day, but when he starts touching it, when he starts admitting to me that he loves me, that everything will be okay when we don't know if it will be, it makes me sick and then I don't want to be touched any more.

Selfish. That's all I am. I don't want him to want me like that because I don't want me like that. And something he used to say a lot when we got here was when you don't love yourself, it's much harder to love other people. But when he declares he doesn't care about the horrid, ugly marks that go along almost the entirety of my protruding abdomen; about the sunken look in my eyes; about my slow waddle, I can't stand it. It makes me feel unworthy. Disgusting. Like an invalid, a true invalid.

On occasion, I blame him. In my mind I point a finger at him and say 'you did this to me! you made me like this'. It's still so scary, all of it. Carrying a child when you don't know if there'll be enough food. Enough anything.

Other people worry about it too. They come up to me and ask 'Aren't you afraid you won't be able to care for it?' and I want to scream at them in a hormonal rage that 'YES! I think about it all the time!'

Alex grabs my hand in those moments and I calm almost immediately, but do my best to stare daggers. He'll drag me away and whisper soothing words in my ear and it'll start up so many weird, foreign feelings in me that I want to pull away and shove him off because I shouldn't be thinking like that. I shouldn't be wanting him when there's so much we need to be scared about.

This man, this boy, before me, eyes closed and hands clasped now against his forehead like he's trying long and hard to think of something, cares so much for me. For me and the unborn babe in my belly.

I grew up in a world full of love and loss. My mother watched my sister and I without a trace of loathing even though we were a constant reminder of our father. And that was snatched from me when they took her away from us. Rachel and I moved in with Aunt Carol and then love was no more. It was all rules and regulation and The Book of Shh and stories of how bad the deliria was.

When Alex admitted to me that he liked me, when he told me that to him I represented freedom in a jailed world, I was overthrown, lost completely. I was transported back in time to when my mother would dance with me and sing me songs.

I have a hard time believing it's true, any of this. That Alex loves me, that he would do anything for me. He says it all the time, that he'd die for me, for our family. My hand itches to slap him when he does. He can't think like that. The minute he resigns himself to dying, no matter the "worthy" cause, his body searches for it.

I watch him now, this boy, because he is only a boy of mere 20. He shakes every now and again when a draft spreads through the trailer. His hair is sticking up all over the place from running his fingers through it time and time again and his golden skin seems dull all of a sudden. Like my slinking from him drew the life from him.

An irresistible yearning for him blows over me in the silence as I observe him and his various quirks. The heat starts up again in my lower belly and I sit up on my knees. I know he feels the bed shift under my weight because he rubs a hand over his face and finally opens his eyes. They widen as I crawl probably very unattractively across the mattress to him.

My hand carefully reaches out to touch him, it inches to his face, getting closer, closer, closer until I can feel his breath glide along my skin. I'm teasing, but I kind of like it. The power I have over him. His Adam's apple visibly bobs and his eyebrows are nearly in his hairline when my hand ghosts over his cheek.

Just as I'm about to touch his amber skin, a crack echoes through the woods. I flinch, falling into Alex's hold. He squeezes me as my breathing increases.

I'm stupid, just stupid.

I can't help when the tears start falling, when the sinking feeling resonates in my gut. I cling to Alex's arms, holding on tighter and tighter until I can feel my fingernails digging into his forearm. My throat throbs and I try swallowing back the fear, the terror, the shame that's built up, but I can't. It won't go down and I cough, trying desperately to release it all. A strangled noise escapes my mouth and I give up, letting the sudden onset of grief consume me.

I hear a voice above the numerous sounds flowing out of my lungs and it sounds so beautiful that I calm down just enough so I can hear it.

"It was just a tree collapsing in the wind, it's okay. It's okay. It's okay."

It, the voice, repeats those words like a mantra. It's okay, it's okay, it's okay.

"I don't-" I start, blinking away the rapidly forming tears from eyes that are clouding my view. "I don't kn-know what's going on w-with m-me."

I've gotten to that point when you cry. You know the stage where you're literally choking on your words and your face feels pinched and dry despite all the salty tears?

My hair is stretching on my head and I can feel Alex's warm hands as they spread along the length of my hair. He still repeats those words, telling me that it's all okay. That nothing's wrong with me. That I'm perfect and wonderful and okay.

Our bed suddenly seems so inviting and comfortable and I squish myself against Alex's hard chest until we're lying down, half my back on his abdomen. He cradles me there until I stop hysterically hyperventilating.

When I open my eyes after all the thunder stops and when the lightning ceases but the rain still hits the outside walls of the trailer with force, I see stars.

Not the real ones that we see here quite a bit at the nighttime campfires. No, not those ones. But the ones that shine in my eyes. They're on the ceiling, glowing like the midnight sky in dark blue.

It fascinates me and I snuggle closer to Alex's head, reveling in the warm puffs of his breath that ghost down my shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He asks. It's the same question he asked earlier, but this time his voice shakes a little.

I turn on my side and rest my head on his shoulder. His eyes are dark, but I can still pinpoint all the different specks of colour in them when my own eyes adjust to the dim light.

Very carefully and with small tremors blinking through the muscles in his arm, Alex smooths his thumb across my cheekbone. The residual wetness from my tears smears around and he collects the salty liquid on his thumb and rubs it together with this forefinger.

"I don't know," I answer truthfully, my voice coming out breathless and confused. I frown at my own weakness.

"Bullshit, Lena," his voice is strained, alarmed. "What's wrong? One second we're merrily admiring the movement of our child and the next you're crawling away from me. Then something falls in the forest and you freak out. Tell me what's going on."

I shake my head and run my hand through my thickening hair. "I-I'm fine. It's nothing. Just-just never mind. I'm sorry." I move to sit up but Alex holds me down.

Something's flashing behind his eyes. I can see he's struggling to contain himself. "Stop it. Talk to me, Lena."

"I don't know how," I admit in a whisper. "I'm just scared."

Alex lets out a muffled grunt and sits us both up. He pinches his nose with his thumb and middle finger and I can't help but admire the concentrated look on his face. "Scared of what, Lena? Of me? Of the baby?" He's pointing at my stomach, his breaths coming out quicker, quicker, quicker.

"What?" I blink, shocked.

Alex grabs my face with both his hands. It's a gentle tug on my cheeks even though it feels like it should be a death grip. "Are you frightened of me? You haven't let me touch you in months." He bows his head and a muffled cry escapes his throat. "Not like that anyway. I know I hid away from you when we first got here, but ever since you started to show, you've been shying away from me. So, are you scared of me? Scared that I'll hurt you or the baby?"

"Alex. . .I don't understand." I say as he releases his hold on my face.

"It's the only explanation I can think of, Lena." He says angrily.

"I'm not scared of you, no," I hum. Then my voice rises, "I'm terrified that you won't want to look at me. I'm disgusting, Alex!" I half-shout, my hands flying in the air. He looks at me startled, his eyes widening. "My body is changing against my will and I hate it. I can't control what's going on. One minute I'm happy and everything's fine, then I can't stop crying and thinking about how horrible all life is. My belly is covered in these reddish, purpley marks and hair has popped up all over the place. I'm ugly, tired, worn out from just standing up for more than one minute! I can't help myself from feeling like this. I want you, Alex. I want you more than I want anything. But-but I don't think I can let you see me like this." The tears have started up again, trickling down and mixing with snot. "I'm so different, so so different from who I used to be. From who you fell in love with."

Alex is staring at me, his brow furrowed and mouth turned down into a frown. I can't look at him anymore so I turn my head away, but like he did when I wanted to get up, he finds a way to get me to turn back to his golden face. He swipes at the fresh waterfall raining from my tear ducts with no anger or revulsion in his beautiful eyes.

"Magdalena," Oh, how I've missed him calling me that, the way it flows from his mouth like honey. Sweet and thick and golden. "I don't see any of those things when I look at you." He says finally and I intake a breath. "I see beauty and a glow to challenge even the sun and dandelions. You're right, you can't control the way your body responds to all the hormones and changes, but they aren't changing you as a person." He leans in and presses his cool forehead against my sweaty one and closes his eyes, breathing across my face. He smells like fresh mint leaves and Alex.

"You are still the same girl I watched for months back in Portland, the girl who would jump and try to smack the Governor, hair flying every which way. The same girl who reminds me of freedom, of the Wilds, even more so than the Wilds themselves. Lena, you are still the same girl who knew how dangerous I was, but fell in love with me anyway," he swallows and pauses for a moment. My breath, which I hadn't realised I'd been holding, spills from my lungs in a loud gust and I watch Alex's mouth spread into a smile that reaches his eyes. "You are you, Lena. And I am in love with you."

We sit like that, foreheads touching and Alex's hands on either side of my face rubbing away the stray tears, for what seems like the entirety of the night. But the sky is still dark and rain is still falling hard when he lets go of me.

"I'm stupid, aren't I?" I question, my eyes still closed. I hear Alex laugh and slide them open, kinking an eyebrow.

"No, you're not," he assures me, kissing both of my cheeks. I feel his tongue dart out to meet the salty tear stains. "You're Lena Haloway. And you're also kind of heavily pregnant."

"Oh, right," I say sarcastically. "I almost forgot. Thought for a second I'd just gained an extra fourteen pounds."

"Hey," he scolds playfully. "You're perfect. And fourteen pounds is good for someone of your height and weight at six months, remember? Doctor Raven said so."

I nod my head and let my fingers glide through Alex's hair. I marvel at the sound he releases and the way his eyes seductively close. "Doesn't make me feel any less fat. We've got another check up tomorrow, remember." I warn him.

Last time we had an appointment, Alex was late arriving because people back in the bordered town nearest us were also late giving the supplies.

"I won't forget this time, I promise. Besides, I only have to deliver a note saying what we need. More vitamins and stuff like that."

"Hey," I call to him as he gets off the bed and goes over to the cupboard. He grabs a bowl and some saltine crackers. "Maybe they can fit a crib in one of the notches."

"Yes, dear, I'll have them work on that," he answers, walking back to me and handing me the bowl. I thank him silently and he nods his 'You're welcome.'

"We're okay, right?" I ask after consuming the eight crackers he gave me. I look at him hopefully, waiting for him to reply with something profound and extremely philosophical.

He, of course, doesn't disappoint. "A leopard cannot change its spots. A zebra cannot change its stripes. Alex cannot change his how he feels about Lena," he says in some odd accent that makes me smile. His face turns stoic all of a sudden and he falls to the floor on his knees in front of me and grabs my hands, peering up at me through the light wisps of hair that have fallen over his eyes. I reach out and sweep them away, tucking his long-overdue-for-a-haircut hair behind his ears like he does for me whenever he notices a stray strand or two staining my face.

"I'm scared, Lena. Just like you. We're bringing this baby in to a world full of bad people and people who would rather destroy us than keep us. But you and I, we're the good guys. We can do this. Together." He looks unashamed and proud and I can't help but kiss him gently. The warmth from his lips spreads through my entire face until I'm tingling all over.

"Together." I repeat, remembering when we found out I could be pregnant. I lower his head onto my lap and start threading my fingers through his hair once again, letting the soft locks flow through my fingers.

A mumbling sound vibrates through my legs and I can feel it shock my core. Alex's mouth is moving against the skin of my thigh.

"What?" I question, leaning down so my ear is positioned over his mouth.

"I said: I love you so much it hurts," he says again. I choke on nothing and stare at his unmoving head. He said it so nonchalant, like it was the easiest thing in the world to say. 'I love you so much it hurts'.

I frown softly in confusion. "Is that bad?" I inquire, still ruffling his hair.

He laughs a shaky laugh and kisses my upper thigh. I jerk my leg when I feel that want flowing again.

"No, Lena. It's wonderfully horrible. The most amazing pain known to mankind," he says, lifting his head up and resting his chin on my thighs.

I rub my thumb underneath his shadowed and tired eyes. "A good pain?"

He smiles slowly, his white teeth popping out one by one before I can almost see the entire congregation of his mouth. "The best."

I slide off the bed carelessly and sit with him on the floor. I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling my belly push against his solid stomach but not caring because I just want to get as close to him as possible. Alex didn't seem to mind the hard thing pressing against him because he just holds onto me as tight as I hold on to him, slipping his cool hands underneath my nightshirt and gliding them along my sweaty back.

We ignore the want for tonight. Instead of giving into it, we let it simmer and then heat up even more only to cool again. It follows that cycle over and over again as we sit there. We whisper that we'll only ignore it for one more night.

Tonight is not a night to give into sudden onsets of greed. Not when tears were shed and doubts were dispersed like torn up pieces of paper in the wind.

No, tonight is a night for loving. And when the ground becomes too uncomfortable at some point and we creep up to the bed just before the sun peaks its head behind the thick rain clouds, Alex and I fall asleep still entwined as we listen to the rain sprinkle its beat against the plastic walls of our home.

O-O-O

"Where is that husband of yours?"

I stifle a laugh in the dining hall as Penny, the oldest member of in this part of the Wilds (though no one will tell me how old she actually is) starts to question me on the whereabouts of Alex.

A girl not much older than me with beautiful, flowing red hair comes to sit next to me. I've seen her around but she's never taken time to approach me before. I'm wary of her immediately.

Maybe it has something to do with the way she looks. Lean with freckles dusting her nose and cheeks so delicately it looks as if they're painted on daily; green, cat-like eyes that stare at you as if they know something you don't; and perfect teeth set in a perfect mouth.

"Penny, you know Lena and Alex aren't married," the girl says as if she's known the inner workings of my relationship for as long as I have. Her voice drips like wet sugar. Disgusting, but you're still tempted to eat it.

Penny has a point, though. Alex and I have our appointment in fifteen minutes.

The new girl turns to me suddenly when Penny leaves in an offended huff and holds out her perfectly manicured hand. Did she just come from a spa? "Melissa," she says, cocking her head to one side and blinking three times in succession. "Nice to meet you. Alex has told me loads about you."

I'm caught off guard by the whole introduction and when Alex's name is thrown in there I get the sudden desire to faint. I shake my head discreetly and take her hand. It's smooth in mine and I mentally hit myself for being so lax about proper treatment of my skin while I've been out here.

"You-uh-you know Alex?" I squeak. Melissa nods her head gracefully and smiles, her perfectly shaped red lips spreading ever so slightly.

"Of course I know your baby daddy!" Her delayed exclamation and subsequent clicking of her tongue gives me an odd feeling. I frown at the phrase 'baby daddy' but Melissa doesn't seem to notice as she continues talking. "He's such a great guy. Always helping around. You know, he's an amazing listener. Very willing to sit there and have his ear talked off."

She yaps on and on and on and I struggle to keep up, smiling every now and again when she pauses to take a breath. She switches topics from work to the outside world (which is weird because no one talks about their bordered life) to the food she's eating.

My stomach groans when she breaks from talking and she laughs, asking if she can touch my belly.

I want to say no, you can't touch my belly, but Alex has said before that people here have no real boundaries. They left them behind in whatever city they came from. Everyone's been asking to feel me ever since I started to show at three months.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," I breathe out, jumping only slightly less than when Penny randomly pressed her hand against my abdomen when I can in this morning.

"Wow, your stomach is so big. You getting ready to pop soon?" Melissa asks, her eyes trained on my stomach.

Did she just call me fat?

"No, not-not yet. . ." My voice trails off when a hot flash blows over me and I start fanning myself.

I open my mouth to speak when I eye Melissa's confused expression, but someone beats me to it.

"She's got three more months," Alex waltzes into the dining hall, clothes and hair glistening with a mixture of sweat and rain, and slides into the seat on my left. He plants a sloppy kiss on my cheek and I go to wipe it away.

Melissa's hand drops from my stomach like it suddenly decided to burn her. She holds her wrist in her other hand and smiles at Alex and I.

"Hey, Alex. I was just keeping your pregnant girlfriend company," she says in her oddly pitched, alluring nasal voice.

"Thanks, Mel," he nods his head in her direction before turning towards me. I reluctantly release Melissa's hurt eyes from my gaze and face Alex. "Ready to see Raven?"

I bob my head once with my eyes closed, preparing myself for this bound-to-be awkward and descriptive six month checkup.

Alex gets up first and holds out his hand. I try and swat it away, but he grabs my hand before I can even see straight and helps pull me up. He places an arm around my waist and we start to walk away.

"Bye Alex," Melissa calls. Alex turns his head and flashes her a smile. "Lena," she says quieter. Alex pinches my side, telling me to do something to acknowledge her presence.

"Goodbye, Melissa. It was nice meeting you," I say, attempting to hide the dull tone to my voice.

"It was great meeting you too!" She pips. I smile and turn back to Alex. He's looking down at me from the corner of his eye, a smug look resonating behind them.

"What?"

"Did you just make a new friend?" He questions just as we're about to enter the checkup room.

We cross the threshold and Alex lets go of me so I can sit on the crinkled-paper covered doctors table.

"I don't know," I frown. She was a bit weird. Talking about Alex. About how Alex listens to her and stuff. Stop it, Lena. I tell myself. You are not a jealous girlfriend. You have nothing to worry about.

I can see Alex is just about to reply when Raven comes into the room, her white coat hanging down over her slim body. Her black, raven-esque hair is pinned up in an elaborate braid atop her small head and her black-rimmed reading glasses are pushed up against said braid. In her hands is my chart and I watch her eyes as they skim certain pages. She has a pen in one hand and checks a few things off.

When she's satisfied, she looks up and smiles at me and Alex. "Well, if it isn't my two favourite patients. How are you?"

Alex clicks his tongue in mock-disgust. I pull on his arm, but it doesn't stop his reply. "I bet you say that to all your patients."

Raven narrows her eyes and tries to fight off a smile, but breaks at the last second, letting go of her pent up chuckle. "All right," she says through her teeth. "And how are you, Lena?"

I move my eyes between Alex and Raven several times before I answer. "Good." I say simply. Raven approaches me and tells me to lie down on the scratchy paper.

I want to protest, but she pushes me down anyway. When she tells me I won't need to remove my trousers and pants this time, I blush furiously and grapple for Alex's hand to get him away from my legs. He stands next to me as Raven lifts my shirt up to right underneath my tender breasts.

"All right, I'm just gonna measure you, okay?" She says kindly. Her tape measure is cold against my skin and she smiles when she's done. "Perfect. You have a growing baby in you."

Alex smiles and finds my hand, squeezing it encouragingly. I look up at him and his grin shines down on me. It's almost blinding.

Raven clears her throat and I tear my eyes away from Alex. She beams at us and I try not to frown at her for ruining our moment.

"I'm going to ask you some questions, Lena. And I need you to be honest with me, you got that?" She asks.

I nod my head. "Yes, Raven. Of course."

"Okay, good," Raven grabs the chart again and picks up her pen, scribbling something down before looking at me. "We are just approaching six months also known as the beginning of the last month in the second trimester. But we'll stick to six months. You've only got four more to go." She pauses and stares at the sheet attached to the clipboard. "So, questions. Has your nausea subsided?"

I think back to the last time I threw up. "Yeah, it's been a good two weeks." Ugh, I remember it. It was the middle of the night and I turned over in my sleep only to be awoken by the sudden shriek of Alex screaming something about me vomiting on him. Alex snickers beside me and I dig my fingers into his hand until he stops.

"Good, good. I think we've got you on a good intake of B6. Alright, and what about movement? Has he/she been kicking at all?"

"Yeah, definitely. Is it supposed to hurt?" The question slips out, but Raven doesn't look at me like I'm an idiot.

"It can do, yes. Your baby is between 16 and 17 centimeters now and could be kicking you right in the cervix. It can be painful. There's nothing to fear about that," she runs her hand along my stomach. "What about any Braxton Hicks contractions?"

I stare at her for a moment willing for her to elaborate.

"Sorry, right, any tightening of the abdomen? Clenching? Does it feel like you're getting ready to give birth?"

My eyebrows dance up, "Is that supposed to happen?" I ask fearfully.

Raven smiles again and shakes her head. "You probably just don't feel it. Your body's getting ready to push a baby out, remember, so it's preparing itself. I've already spoken to you about what it'll feel like when you go into real labor and I think you'll be able to tell the difference between these two things."

God, I remember, yeah. Not looking forward to it.

"Okay, what about your sex drive?" Raven says the words casually, but a severe blush rockets across my cheeks and I cough all the same.

I spy Alex hiding a smirk behind his mouth and want to kick him. I sigh dramatically and figure I might as well get it over with. "It's there all right," I say quietly, not looking either people present in the eye.

"Excellent," Raven said a bit too enthusiastically for my taste. She started shooting off sex tips for this stage in pregnancy and that's when I stopped being able to hear above the blood rushing in my ears.

"All right, I get it, you don't wanna hear it," Raven sighs and put down the chart. She grabs at the stethoscope and grins. "Are you ready to hear the heartbeat?"

I'll never forget the first time we heard the baby's heartbeat.

They don't have ultrasound machines here, but they do have an abundance of stethoscopes. What they do is they tell you to go on your back and breath deeply. The lights are off and everyone's told to be silent. Raven told me to lift my shirt up and said that she was going to place the stethoscope around my belly.

She warned me that it would be cold but by all means it was worth the slight uncomfortable pinch.

I waited as she pressed the metal to my stretched skin, staring up at the black ceiling and swearing it moved if I stared too long.

Then Raven asked, once she had taken the stethoscope off and placed it back around her neck, if Alex and I would want to hear. I wondered if it were possible because I was no doctor. She laughed at that. She said I would have to listen carefully, but that it was all a very conceivable plan. Just tuck the stethoscope in your ears and guide the metal around until you hear something.

Alex went first. It seemed so intimate when he first touched my slightly swollen tummy. I felt a thousand emotions swarm me like wasps. He moved the chest piece every now and again, but I could tell you when he first heard the first flicker of the heartbeat. He jumped back and sucked in a breath so powerfully that he choked on his tongue. He let out a muffled cry and moved back to press the stethoscope on my stomach again.

He removed the ear pieces from his head and put them in my ears. He wouldn't let me move the chest piece around, insisting he knew where best to find the heartbeat.

And he was right. The first place he touched down was a goldmine of fluttering. It sounded like the sound of a butterflies wings only magnified. Like something was gently stroking the stethoscope, thumping against it quick and light.

My heart swelled like the Grinch's, growing three times its original size. It felt like someone was squeezing my lungs with their bare hands, strangling any chance of breathing. I didn't hear what Raven said the rest of the appointment and I have a feeling neither did Alex.

It was like that today when we heard the heartbeat. It was stronger now than it was then, but still just as quick. Raven went on about blood pressure and muscles and stretching. I tried to listen, truly, but my ears were full of the flickering heartbeat.

When the appointment was over, Alex and I made our way through the rain to our trailer. Molly said something about the rain stopping tomorrow, but she's been saying that for two days already, so I guess we'll see in the morning.

Walking has become a difficult feat due to my heavy belly and since I ache all over, Alex has to support me even in spite of the heavy rain.

"You can go on ahead of me," I try protesting, but he looks down at me with those shiny puppy eyes and I stick my tongue out. He throws his head back in laughter and I can't stop the chuckle that bubbles up in my throat.

I feel a warm buzz making its way through my veins on our walk and I stare up at Alex. I'm not entirely paying attention and that proves to be bad when I find myself falling and falling and falling.

I prepare myself for impact, but I never hit the ground. Alex's wet face stares at me, frightened lines creasing his smooth face. My eyes are wide as saucers, but not because of the near-death experience.

Shaking my prudishness, I lean up and whisper in Alex's ear, "Hows about you hurry up and get me back to the trailer so I can strip these clothes off."

It's his turn to have wide eyes and my blush betrays me even with the cold spring rain hitting my cheeks like bullets. Alex pulls me up and speedily walks us home.

The trailer is cozy when we step inside and I immediately start throwing my wet clothes around the floor. We're usually careful about keeping the place clean due to lack of space, but that goes out the window when I hear the door slam and feel my anticipation rise.

Soon, we're both in our underclothes and I brush through the nerves rattling my bones and start stripping down Alex's boxers. I hear him groan as he stands still and don't even flinch when he grabs ahold of my head to pull me back up. I hear his underwear sloppily hit the ground somewhere in the distance as he begins tearing off my bra and panties.

My bra slides off easily and I giggle when Alex literally tears my underwear off.

"I hope they have more," he mutters in my ear. He starts to push us back towards the bed and I slump down when I feel the mattress at my calfs.

"Maybe I'll just forego wearing them from now on."

Something akin to a growl sets loose from Alex's mouth and I hear him whisper, "Is that a threat, Lena?"

My eyes fly open and I start panting when he reaches down between my thighs and starts rubbing. "It's a promise," I sigh before turning my head just enough to capture Alex's lips with mine.

Alex pushes me back onto the mattress and lies down next to me on his side, our mouths still moving together. His tongue sweeps across my bottom lip in playful agony as he gropes at my swollen chest.

The temperature rises a thousand degrees, a burning glow dancing over my skin wherever Alex touches me. He lets go of my mouth and mounts himself over me, his elbows on either side. His head hangs just above mine, his skin blazing.

I grip his shoulders and push his chest against mine, not caring if he has to bend his back to get over the curve of my stomach. His hair tickles my face when he leans in to kiss me sweetly and I can tell he's holding back.

"Alex," I whine as he fiddles between my thighs.

"What?" He gasps, slipping his hand away and cradling my face.

I admire how he looks above me, the golden glow of his body like the sun against the bleak and blackening night. I've thought about this repeatedly, how it would all happen. Would it be like last time? Or a completely new experience.

I realise suddenly that he's waiting for me to answer him. He's rubbing against me and his lip is caught between his teeth in pained patience. I can feel myself spilling over into oblivion.

"Don't think," I stutter through my staccato bursts of breath. "Just-oh, God, just kiss me."

My hands go to his cheeks and I pull his mouth onto mine. My fingers stroke through his wet hair in want, need, desperation and I tug and pull, feeling him slowly lose his grip on reality with me.

He ripples above me and, in a particularly uncharacteristic moment fueled by arousal and cupidity, I reach out to find him. Alex releases a choked gasp when I tug on him, getting him right above where I need him, where every part of me wants him, needs him, begs him.

My muscles loosen in preparation and Alex rests his forehead against mine. My lips find his again, needing to taste him, needing his breath in me to live. I tease him mercilessly, nipping and pulling at his mouth as he struggles to maintain himself.

I know when my eyes shut because I don't see Alex anymore, but I don't remember telling my eyelids to close. Almost as if he is truly a glowing ember, I see him moving, moaning, breathing through my slitted eyelids.

I want to feel him all around me, burning into me, imprinting me with his mark, but he's stubborn. He places wet kisses to my chin, cheeks, eyebrows. His mouth goes down to my chest, licking and sucking and biting.

When he comes back, inching up my body, I raise my hands over my head in surrender. Holding himself on his elbows, Alex slides his hands up my arms and back down to my chest agonizingly slow.

"Why are you torturing me?" I ask, my entire body throbbing.

He lets out a shaky breath and lowers his head to my ear. "Tell me you want me," he begs breathlessly, his hand reaching up and holding my wrists against the mattress.

I look at him. I see the pain and the fear behind his eyes. I want to take all of it away, kiss it better. Tell him everything will be okay. We're in this together.

"I want you."

And then he's finally everywhere. My breathing becomes labored when he gets on his knees and sits back on his heels. His hands tug at my thighs, his fingers digging into to the soft flesh. He lifts me up onto his hips and leans back so his back is against the wall.

"You're beautiful," he says. "Beautiful and all mine. Tell me if I hurt you."

"Never," I gulp when he slides me down onto of him. I let out a quiet whimper and he grabs my waist to steady me.

The room starts to spin and before I know what's happening I'm on my back again and Alex's leg is between both of mine and he's pulling my leg up by the knee. He goes back in, biting his lip against crying out. He stares at me as if he's trying to memorise me. His eyes skate up and down my body as he moves in and out and in and out, faster, slower, harder.

I can feel my pulse everywhere. It reminds me of having a cold and lying on your back. Your fingers, head, toes, all thrum with your heart. It feels like that.

I run my hands down his back, my palms skipping over scars and scratches, outlining muscle and bone. Gooseflesh rises up on both our skin despite the heat. My hands go to his stomach, feeling his abdominal muscles contracting and pulling under my touch.

He grazes my skin every now and again, so lightly and delicately as if he's afraid I'll disintegrate into his touch.

Suddenly, it all became too much. Each kiss, touch, movement here, there, everywhere is too powerful. His body slides above me, dripping sweat and gliding so easily with mine, and he can't seem to get enough of me. He touches me anywhere he can reach from his stance and I find myself wishing we could stay like this forever. Connected and loved and loving.

I can't breathe when we're like this, when he whispers his love for me like it's a curse and a blessing, when he shakes above me with pleasure and pain. Below him, I can't even get my thoughts in order. All I feel, hear, see is Alex. His kisses, his caresses, his eyes, mouth, breaths.

My hands cling to him and push him into me harder. He lets out strained breath after strained breath and they stick to my sweaty skin like promises. Secret promises held between us.

"I-" I gasp, feeling it all coiling. Alex shushes me with a kiss as my body knots up on itself, tight and tense.

And then the room starts whirling for real. We tumble and struggle to not collapse when the waves crash into us. I drive my fingernails into his shoulders and he shudders and shakes above me. My legs feel like jello, but Alex holds me up, his breathing steadying me. Our hearts race together, slamming into our chests like loud, banging drums.

Words leave my brain and my tongue becomes lead in my mouth when Alex rolls off of me, his breath whooshing out. He turns over on his stomach and lazily brushes at the sweat dribbling down my stomach.

"I almost want to stand outside and cool down," he says after the trailer stops its spin cycle.

"We can just sleep with the covers off tonight," I promise, sleep desperately pulling on me.

"Ha," Alex wheezes, laying his head on my upper chest. Embarrassment overcrowds my thoughts and I lift my hands to cover myself up. But just like back at 37 Brooks when I allowed Alex to lift my shirt the first time, he pulls at my wrists and kisses me on the lips as if lying naked on a bed is natural. "I love you, Lena."

I sigh and turn towards him, my neck feeling loose and my eyes getting heavy. He looks ready to pass out and I don't blame him. Peacefulness crowds around us in the dust, settling down upon us like rain droplets. "I love you too, Alex," I whisper just as sleep decides to take me captive.

I dream that night of Alex. Of his heroic nature and kind eyes. I dream of how he loves me and how he holds me and looks at me like I'm the only person on the entire earth who he cares about. And in the back of my mind, behind all the stress and worry, I believe it.


A/N 2: Uh oh! Who's this Melissa girl? Yeah, yeah, save all the 'that's such a cliché' liners. We all know why she's there, let's not deny it. But, what did you think? Too forced, fast, filthy? Not accurate with the pregnancy stuff? I do research, but the internet lies sometimes.

If you feel up to it, tell me what you thought. I'm sure it would make me feel better (except if it's horribly cruel) in this "I feel like crap at the moment" time in my life thanks to three wonderful little girls giving me a horrid cold.

Frightened Rabbit are a Scottish band and I would strongly recommend giving them some love. "The Woodpile" I believe is their most famous song. And there's Maroon 5, but I stopped caring about them after their first album came out. Oh, I imagine Lena and Alex having the sexy times to "Believe Me Natalie" by The Killers. Just in case you were extra perverted like me and needed music to go along with it.

Okay, well, that was fun to write, I must say. Even though while I was writing it I felt like dying. Me and my record player say thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Until next time,

(insert name here)

p.s. Only two weeks until I see Panic! at the Disco. Yay!

p.s.s. I know I use a lot of adverbs, but that's actually how I talk in real life. Adverbs are like my "like". I use them abundantly and they generally tend to be every other word out of my mouth.

p.s.s.s. I wonder how many people I got to hate me with that disclaimer. . .hmmm.