Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.
Author's Note: Okay, a couple of you have been commenting on how Olivia was pregnant in the end of MDS and told Elliot and now she's stressing about having to tell him the same thing. Well, I'm adressing that in this chappy. Flashbacks in italics.
I woke up the next day and sighed. As I walked into the master bathroom I looked at my reflection in the mirror and sighed again. God, I looked like crap. I then subconsiously lay my hand over my stomach. A smile flits over my face until I remember what I still have to tell Elliot. I then think back to about 8 months before.
Flashback
"I...I'm...I'm pregnant El." She answered.
He let the news sink in for a moment before pulling her to him to meet her lips in a passionate kiss. Pulling away he spoke, "Well, I guess I'll have to start working out more then." She smiled at him and laughed, nodding. He smirked and pulled her in for another kiss. They celebrated all night.
Four Days Later (still flashback)
We rode in our SUV to out first doctor's appointment. I was ecstatic and so was Elliot. We had ahold of each other's hands the whole ride and about three fourths of the way there I saw a semi heading towards my side of the car. I screamed at Elliot and he sped up, trying to get out of the way before the semi hit us.
The next thing I knew I woke up in a hospital bed. There was a cast on my right arm, one on my right leg and a guaze pad over stitiches in my forehead. Ha! Same place I had my scar from almost four years ago. Shouldn't look too bad. Plus it was under my bangs.
Finally I looked to my left and saw Elliot, half asleep and crying silently, on a chair beside my bed. I reached towards him and he jumped, apparently startled. "El? What's the matter?"
"Oh Liv! God Baby! I was so scared!" He said, new tears still escaping his eyes as he wrapped me in a gentle hug.
Suddenly I remembered my pregnancy. "El? El, the baby?"
As soon as I looked towards him I knew the answer. I had lost my baby, our baby. I felt horrible.
END Flashback
Remembering those days that seemed like an eternity ago I started crying for the things that I had lost. Yes, things. There had been twins again. Two boys we had found out. Even though the bodies were too small to even be carried, I was four months along, we named them. Derek Jonathan and Zachary Richard. Our baby boys.
I turned on the shower head even though I had taken a shower the night before. I needed something to take the pain away. For about two months after I lost D.J. and Zac, that was what we would've called them, I drank to make the pain go away. I had lost two little innocent babies. I had failed Elliot and the rest of my family.
I finally quit when Breanna walked into the bathroom to me puking up all the vodca and scotch I had had to drink. I was forced to quit by the fear in her little chocolate eyes that reminded me so much of my own when I was her age and I had been in the same position as her. Watching my mother puking in the toilet after she had gotten bombed when someon was three years old was something no one should have to go through. Actually, no one, no matter what age, should have to go through that.
So, as I pulled off Elliot's blue NYPD t-shirt, that had soon became thr shirt that I slept in, and looked in the mirror again I vowed to make sure that my body would be as healthy as possible and I would be as careful as possible as I could with such a precious life inside of me. I also vowed that the next time I saw Elliot I would tell him.
We were having a child together and we absolutely had to fix our marriage for this child and the other two that would still live at home when it was born.