Author's Note:
Thanks for reading this far! And special thanks to those who are reviewing. ;) Y'all are awesome.
I had this chapter written forever ago. I'm not going to lie; it was so much fun to write. A character is going to go insane...literally.

Have fun reading.

Kaitlyn's POV

My heart raced as a whole new wave of panic rushed through my veins. I counted the days since my last period. No, that can't be right. Recounted. Crap.

No. This wasn't happening to me. Couldn't be happening to me. I was not pregnant.

But what if?

I thought of all the people who I'd ever had sex with and could count them on one hand. Actually, one finger. Despite my reputation at school for being a whore, the idea of being that physically close to someone scared me.

So there was only one person who had been with me. And he was not a person at all--he was a devil.

But he couldn't have gotten me pregnant. He couldn't have. Hadn't the pain I suffered two months been enough to satisfy whatever vengeful deity was out there? I got what I deserved a long time ago. So what the heck was this?

Maybe, I thought to myself, that guy at the party… Maybe he gave me a drink, and I just can't remember those moments. Maybe…?

Wishful thinking. My memory of that night was still painfully vivid. All the lights and colors… I shuddered. That whole day had been horrible.

There was only one possibility.

Luthor.

What will my classmates think? What am I going to do? How am I going to tell my parents? What the heck am I going to do?

"That sunova isn't going to wake up tomorrow!" I announced to the empty house. I was beyond shock--only rage boiled inside of me.

I stormed out of the bathroom and back to my room. Hurricane Kaitlyn hit it with all of her fury; none of my furniture escaped unscathed. The dresser on its side, the mattress entirely off the bed frame, my clothes and possessions scattered everywhere.

The living room was my next target. But as I stormed down the stairs, a strangely calm voice sounded in my head, Don't girls sometimes randomly skip? Your body's probably just tricking you. You might not be pregnant.

"If I am, it won't be for long," I muttered. The devil's child was not going to grow inside of me. It was not going to happen. That thing would never make it into the world alive.

I closed my eyes and took deep breaths. Inhale and exhale. Repeat. I knew that I could be sure one way or the other is if I got one of those pregnancy tests. That meant a trip to the drugstore, but in a small town where everyone knows everyone, I'd probably be seen. Then the rumors would start. Then I'd be dead, pregnant or not.

Crap. The world just wasn't spinning in my favor, was it? It took me a full five minutes of pacing before I could bring myself to grab the keys to my Honda.

I cleared the snow off of the car and began the treacherous journey to the drugstore.

--

On second thought, using my parents' money to buy a pregnancy test probably wasn't the smartest idea. Using it to buy two backs-ups, that was stupid. My dad would notice the money gone from the "secret" stash above the fridge soon after he got home.

Well, by the time I realized this, it was too late to return them, already used and scattered around the bathroom floor. Three little blue plus signs stared up at me.

I picked one up and hit it against the counter top. It's not working right! When it didn't change back, I dropped it. The clattering of that dumb pregnancy test on the cold tile of my bathroom floor was enough to make me scream.

It was high-pitched and possibly blood-curdling, the kind when you're in a seriously frightening situation. Then I had collapsed into a heap on the floor and just stared at the wall. I was so dead.

Please be a dream. Please wake up, I told my brain. So many worries filled my head that I couldn't even keep them straight.

I needed help, and badly. If there was ever someone in my life that I could trust, it was Tatiana. She was my best friend and would probably know what to do.

I stumbled through the hallway back to my room, blinded by the tears that insisted to spring up and fill my eyes.

I grabbed the flip phone off of the floor and scrolled backwards through the contacts. "Stanley, Tatiana" had always been seven clicks backwards, so I didn't bother to look at the screen. It wouldn't have done much good for me to try, either--I couldn't see more than a blur through my tears.

She answered. "Hello?"

"T, it's Kate," I choked.

"Oh, hey Kate. This is--"

I didn't even let her finish. "I'm pregnant," I blurted into the phone before bursting into sobs.

There was silence on the other end for what seemed like ages. "Oh my word, are you okay?" She sounded sympathetic and worried. But she didn't sound like Tatiana.

My whole train of thought came screeching to a halt. Even my crying ceased for a moment. Whoever was on the other end was not Tatiana. No, that wasn't right! I had called T!

Well, okay, I obviously hadn't, so who was I talking to? A hint of a memory flashed through my mind: adding "Sullivan, Chloe," to my contacts list, where it had taken Tatiana's place as the seventh from the bottom.

"No, I'm not okay," I whispered.

There was more silence on the other end. I didn't want to know what was going through Chloe's mind at that moment. "Um… I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to say here."

I swallowed hard. "Look, I'm sorry to call you. I must have dialed the wrong number… How about we just pretend this conversation never happened?"

"Sounds good." Yeah, I could tell this was way too awkward for her.

"Bye." I hung up and smacked my forehead. Idiot.

Before I could stop myself, tears were pouring down my cheeks, forming damp spots on my shirt. My body shook with sobs, and I found it hard to breathe.

I was pregnant. It might as well have been a death sentence. Not only would I have to confess to my parents what I did, I'd also have to confess what was done to me.

That would be an incredibly uncomfortable conversation. Mom would be mortified. Dad would laugh and ask why I was making a big deal of it since I had brought it on myself.

And to hit the ball out of the park, the dirty old man had threatened me. "You won't live to see the next day." A death sentence. I couldn't lie--there was no way around it.

I took great gasps of air to calm myself. My breathing was still shaky, and I felt a bit like throwing up. I glared down at my stomach. "This is all your fault, you know."

I felt justified in talking to it now. There was something living inside of me, and no matter how much I wanted it out, it was stuck in there until I could get a much-needed abortion.

But that would require telling my parents.

Crap.

Everything led back to that fact. I knew I couldn't avoid it. I leaned heavily against the wall, hitting my head on it. The pain lasted a half-second before it dispersed-- that had to be the one good thing about my freak-power.

My freak-power. The idea hit me like a load of bricks. It was, at the time, brilliant. I swallowed hard and left my room, heading towards the kitchen.

I opened the knife drawer and looked for a smooth, short blade. My stomach was churning--the thought of a self-performed abortion didn't make it happy. I was okay with blood in small amounts. But if it was pouring out of me… Well, that thought would be enough to make anyone sick.

Let's just hope the freak gene isn't dominant. I took a steadying breath and lifted my shirt up. Another breath. This was going to hurt. I willed my eyes to stay open and plunged the knife into my abdomen.

I nearly passed out from the intense sensation that overwhelmed me and blurred my vision. I'd never known pain like this. Oh, get on with it! It'll be over soon.

But then I saw the blood. The wound might as well have been a fountain, spewing as much liquid as it was. I gagged and tried to will my hand to drag the knife down to create a slit, but instead, it was yanked out of me.

Bad hand, I need you to obey!

I had never seen my power in action before. It was fascinating to watch: the wound closed like a zipper, mending itself together until the only evidence that I had ever tried to stab myself was the blood that dripped down my abdomen.

My nightshirt was stained a scarlet color, as were my sweatpants. The kitchen floor would need to be scrubbed.

More importantly, though, I needed to get that thing out of me before my parents came home.

But I couldn't. It hurt too much. I didn't even know how I was going to accomplish anything when I had flunked both health and biology. I was just mindlessly slashing through myself, hoping I killed the devil's spawn in the process.

I really did need help. Not just support from a friend, but real, psychological, help. I wasn't about to admit myself to Belle Reeve, so I settled for the former by calling Tatiana.

"I need you over here. Seriously, like right now."

"Whoa, what up? Yo sound like yo in trouble."

"Yeah, I am. Please hurry, T."

"Promise yo tell me what's goin' on when I get there?"

"Mhmm." I hung up without saying goodbye and went on a hunt for the cleaning supplies. Mom wouldn't like to come home to a blood-stained kitchen.

It turns out they were very well-hidden. Who would think to look in the hallway closet that held our coats? I pulled out a mop, a bucket, and a variety of spray bottles. Paper towels would probably be necessary, but they were back in the kitchen.

Just then, the doorbell rang, and Tatiana opened the front door. That had always been like her, ringing the bell to announce that she was coming in. We never locked our doors, anyhow.

I was caught off-guard and gasped, turning my back to her as she walked in. "Hey, T." I didn't hear a hint of cheerfulness in it. "Didn't expect you here so soon."

"'Ay Kate," she replied, walking behind me as I started for the kitchen. "What's with the stuff?"

"Oh, this? Um…" I said tactfully. "You might wanna stay out of the kitchen for a while."

"Why? Did yo puke or somethin'?" She continued to follow me.

I turned my head. "Not in the kitchen today," I responded, making eye contact. I wondered if I looked as hopeless as I felt.

Tatiana stopped short. "Whadda yo mean, 'Not t'day?'"

It took all of my strength to keep from crying right there. I just kept walking and ordered, "Stay." I could still hear her footsteps close behind me.

She was curious.

Then the kitchen came into view.

We all know that curiosity killed the cat.

She inhaled sharply. I had to admit, it looked pretty morbid. A pool of deep red blood was just there, in the middle of the floor. I wrinkled my nose.

"Wha happened, Kate?" she asked, frightened.

I blinked back tears and reached for the paper towels to my right. "I told you to stay," I whispered.

"Yeah, but wha is dis? Dude, Kate. Blood! Obviously not good!" That's when she saw the front of my clothes. "Oh, no you didn't... Kate, what happened?" she demanded, more terrified than before.

I knelt and began sopping up the thick, smelly liquid. My stomach churned. "Tried to…" The words stuck in my throat. I couldn't say it. "Oh, just go look at the bathroom floor upstairs," I said, giving up. She would see the pregnancy tests. She'd know.

I threw the used paper towels in the bucket and tore off fresh ones.

"I'm not leavin' 'till you tell me what da heck is goin' on."

Tears started to trickle down my cheeks again, and I avoided her gaze.

"Kate?"

No reply.

"Did yo do this to yo self?" I could tell she was on the verge of tears herself.

"Just go upstairs. I can't explain it." My voice broke. I turned my back to her and proceeded to spray window cleaner on the floor in hopes that it would take out the stain.

I heard her climb the stairs. I lifted my shirt up to my waist and tried to find where I had stabbed myself. I didn't see anything, just dried blood over smooth skin. "I already hate you," I told it.

Tatiana let out a shriek and clambered back down the stairs. "What were yo tryin' to do, Katie?"

I paused, thinking of how to phrase this. "You know about my freak-healing." It was the easiest thing to say.

"Yeah, yeah. What does dat have ta do wit anything? And yo...yo pregnant!" Her eyes were wide as saucers.

I cringed at the word. "I tried…" This wasn't going to come out sounding right. "...To kill it. I knew I'd be fine, so--"

"What!? How?!" Tatiana demanded. She was taking all this a lot worse than I had expected. Then again, I hadn't expected her to see the blood.

"Knife." I raised my shirt enough to show her where I had attempted to stab the thing.

She crouched in front of me and shook my shoulders. "What is wrong wit yo, Kate?" Her darting eyes searched mine. "Are yo crazy? Kate, what's wrong?!" Now she was crying.

I shook my head. "I can't tell them."

"Kate, yo talkin' like yo crazy. At least try to explain what's goin' on!"

"My parents. I can't tell them I'm pregnant."

"Why not?" My eyes drifted back to the faint stain on the linoleum. "Kate! Look at me. I can't help yo until yo give me the full story."

"I can't…" I whispered. "It's a death sentence."

She leaned back and threw her hands up, exasperated. "At least tell me whose kid it is!"

"Death sentence," I repeated.

She stood. "Kate, go clean up." I stood hesitantly and glanced back at the floor. "No, don't worry about da stain. I'll get it. Jes go."

I took the stairs slowly, glancing back at her hesitantly. She raised an eyebrow, and I continued my climb. Something didn't seem quite right about leaving her down there…

All through the thirty minutes that I cleaned up myself and my clothes, two thoughts kept repeating in my head: I'm pregnant and I'm so dead.

I took the stairs slowly, believing that I would trip if I moved faster than a turtle. Tatiana was sitting on the sofa in the living room, her expression strangely calm as she watched television.

What the heck? How can she be so normal when my world is crashing down on me! I thought angrily. Life wasn't fair, and it made me mad.

She looked up at me and smiled brightly, hope glinting in her dark brown eyes. The look made me sick. Was she completely ignorant to what was going on?

Tatiana patted the cushion next to her. "Come on, watch Punk'd wit me!"

I eyed her suspiciously and sat down. She promptly turned off the television, and her face became serious again. "Kate, what's goin' on? Seriously, yo were making no sense earlier."

I looked down at the white carpet. "I already told you, T. I'm pregnant."

"That don't explain why yo were…" She trailed off, but I knew what she was trying to say.

"Trying to get that thing out of me?"

"It's not a thing, Kate. It's a baby. And you were trying to kill it."

I squinted at her and shook my head in disagreement. "I can't tell my parents, T."

"Why not, Kate?" Tatiana asked, rising from the couch. "What is so horrible 'bout dis baby, o its dad, o whatever, that yo think yo gonna die?!"

I cringed away from her shouting. "Everything, T. It's the dumbest thing ever, it's my fault, and…and… Oh, I don't even know!" I covered my face with my hands.

"Kate, I called yo parents; they're coming home. I'm gonna help yo get yo story straight fo them."

I removed my hands from my eyes to glare up at her. She called my parents? "Traitor."

"Well, what was I s'posed to do? When there's blood all over the floor, course I'm gonna freak out!"

"You didn't have to tell them," I hissed.

"Well, too late. Now spill."

"I'm not saying anything."

"Whose kid is it?"

"That thing is not a kid."

"Kate! Answer the freakin' question."

"No."

"I'm tryin' ta help yo! Now, at least make up some bull fo me ta tell yo parents!"

"John. Say it was John."

That answer didn't satisfy Tatiana, and she continued to fire questions at me. "Why'd yo try ta kill it?"

I paused to think of a lie that would sound halfway plausible. "I was too afraid of Mom and Dad."

"How far along are yo?"

I felt bile rise in my throat as I remembered the day. "Not exactly sure. Since October."

"Do yo feel okay?"

Whoa, where'd that come from? "I'm pregnant, T. Of course I'm not okay!"

"Hey, hey, sorry!" She turned the TV back on and sat down.

"Interrogation over?" I asked, still glaring.

"Yep."

--

Tatiana's POV

I kinda felt bad about calling her mom, but I knew I had to. My friend was slashing away at herself; what else could I do? Nothing but call the shrinks at Belle Reeve.

But Mrs. Grant had already done that by the time she was back in Smallville. The ambulance wasn't more than ten minutes behind them. I barely had enough time to explain everything to Kate's parents.

We had decided that I would tell the story, and Kate would sit on the couch, cry, and refuse to speak. I could act; she couldn't.

Mrs. Grant could act, too. She had this perfectly composed face that showed no emotion but compassion. I envied her skill.

Then the nurses came in their white scrubs and carried Kate away. Mrs. Grant crooned to her daughter that everything would be alright, everything was going to get better.

Kate still tried to fight off the nurses, throwing dirty glances at her mom and me. They had to drug her for the ride back to Metropolis.

It broke my heart to see Kate being taken away like that, but I knew it was for the best. They'd help her. She wouldn't try to hurt herself or the baby anymore.

The baby. Now that was a mystery in itself. And it was one that I wanted to solve.

Yes, Kaitlyn is going to Belle Reeve. Oh, you knew it was coming. She's a meteor freak; she can't escape the side-effects.

And since she won't be crazy forever, I need your feedback on a possible pairing for her. Pete? Lex? OC? Anyone I can't think of right now?(Thanks to Kali, Ichigo, and Lara for you opinions. I love how your thoughts were unanimous. LOL)

So... Reviews are great. I need your thoughts! What do I need to improve on?