Author's Note: Just a little something I've come up. Although it was probably for the best that Sister Mary Eunice was killed in 'The Name Game' I still would have liked to have seen a litte more interaction between she and the Monsignor. Here is my take on what may have happened had he performed an exorcism upon her instead of tossing her from the third storey.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk and the FX network.


Months had passed at Briarcliff and it the summer was pretty much over for another year. The afternoons were still warm, but of an evening, the chill set in around the grounds and corridors. Sister Mary Eunice had grown tired of being cooped up in her quarters and since it was still dusky outside, she planned to take a stroll, just in front of the building. It had been too long since she had been outside, and she was beginning to feel like a caged bird.

As she pushed open the heavy doors of the asylum, nodding to security as she passed the guard post, Mary Eunice smiled, cradling the wicker basket in the crook of her elbow; she planned on picking some flowers, maybe pruning back the rose bushes. She was exhausted. Not just tired. She was emotionally exhausted, physically exhausted, especially since she'd been hiding her condition from the Monsignor for so long. It was draining, and the child had given her so many restless nights while it wriggled in her womb, keeping her awake.

Throughout her pregnancy, both Sister Jude and Dr. Arden had respected her wishes to not inform the Monsignor of the infant growing inside her, and Dr. Arden had been more than happy to assist her with medical checks. Her relationship with Jude had slowly began to reform, and she saw the older woman as a maternal figure to her once more. Now, she was within sight of the final hurdle; birth. Sister Mary Eunice was approximately five weeks from labor and she was not ready to become a mother. Jude had told her she didn't have the life experiences to guide her yet.

She strolled slowly with her basket to the roses, removing the pruning shears from the corner before she began. Snipping, clipping and placing each rose into the basket. They would make a fine token of thanks for Sister Jude, for guiding her through her difficult times, for forgetting and forgiving the difficulties they'd shared while Eunice had been possessed.

Snip, snip, snip.

Mary Eunice swallowed, suddenly finding herself breathless, but she urged herself on, "Just a few more roses." she told herself, smiling to the buds before her. It all happened so fast; the shears hit the ground first, then she did. The heat had radiated through her body before she blacked out and collapsed next to her basket and shears.

It was a short time later when Dr. Arden came striding past, he had been seeing to his experiments out in the woods, the ones he had not shot. As he passed by the gardens, Arthur saw the familiar basket on the ground between the bushes, before he made out the black shape laying with it. Craning his neck, he realized it was his beloved Sister Mary Eunice. Rushing to her side, he dropped to his knees.

"Sister, Sister can you hear me?" he got no response so, again he attempted to wake the sleeping beauty, "Little Sister, can you hear me...?"

Awaking, it was the candlelight that first caught Mary Eunice's attention, it was flickering to her side before she felt the damp cloth being placed upon her forehead, and then hand on her cheek. Turning and taking in the room, which happened to be her own quarters, Sister Mary Eunice saw Sister Jude beside her on the bed, in her own nightdress, she nodded to the younger nun before she spoke gently, "Don't panic, Sister. You took a fall out in the yard, out front...Doctor Arden assures me everything is...fine..."

"I-I was..." Mary Eunice began, her breath was short, "I was out walking...cutting you s-some flowers, Sister..." she swallowed and frowned, "I don't understa..."

"Please rest, my child." Jude sighed, "You need your rest. Doctor Arden has strict instructions for you, I'll check on you again before morning rounds." she announced, standing from the bed, and wrapping her shawl tightly around her shoulders, "God bless, Mary Eunice."

"Goodnight, Sister Jude..." she responded breathlessly. Softly, Mary Eunice turned to Arden and cleared her throat a little, "Doctor, you must tell me, what happened outside?"

"It seems you had another fainting spell, Sister..." he checked her pulse, before moving his hands over her swollen abdomen, gently adding pressure and circulating his fingers, "Everything seems to be in order, however...but Sister..." he sighed, removing his spectacles now and leaning over her, "You are working yourself to exhaustion, you must rest. This child will be born in a number of weeks, and you are still on your feet for more than six hours per day." Arden shook his head disapprovingly before he then added, "I believe the only solution here, and Sister Jude approves, is to subject you to bedrest, at least until this child is born." he nodded, searching her eyes.

"But the inmates, the common room..." she tried but received a look from Arden. It was not a glare, but it was not an expression she favored. Nodding, Mary Eunice sighed and glanced to the blankets, "Yes, Doctor."

"If you will pardon me for being so forward, Sister..." Arden began, as he packed away his stethoscope and penlight into the small carry bag, "The Monsignor expressed his worry for your condition...I suggested that he was not wait as long to visit you this time. Goodnight, Sister..." he nodded before exiting her room, leaving her with her thoughts.

Thoughts of that night. As she sighed, allowing her eyes to fall upon her abdomen, she could envision the night playing out; she had cleaned Timothy's wounds -his hands and feet- and they had begun to discuss Leigh Emerson once again until he had tried to exorcise the demon from within her. His intentions had angered the Devil and she had thrown his feet across the room, pinning him to the twin bed before her body had straddled his. When Mary Eunice had felt the effects of what her body upon him, she had felt herself cringing within, feeling how fast he became hard beneath her, between her legs.

Frowning as she felt the baby beginning its nightly showcase of gymnastics, Mary Eunice sniffled as she circled her palm over herself, willing the child to stop moving, at least until she could have a head start with sleeping. Seeing her palm moving in that circular motion, she furrowed her brows and stopped, her mind drifting back to when she had slipped herself down on him, it had pained her body but the Devil made her continue, taking both their virtues at once. Her body had ground against him hard, her hips had moved against his until he had not been able to hold himself.

Seven, almost eight months of contant backache, nausea, still joints and countless other ailments had been accrued during the pregnancy. She had spent the weeks since the Monsignor had returned to Briarcliff hiding from him, camouflaging the evidence of their triste behind bookshelves, baskets, desks. And, evidently, she had come to befriend him. Sister Jude had been more than enough help to her, bringing her water, checking on her during the night. Dr. Arden was sure she ate a balanced diet and tried to restrict her working hours to the minimum.

It was as Sister Mary Eunice returned from the opposite side of her room, after pouring herself a glass of water did her door open. With her back to it as she shuffled back to the bed, ready to set the water down and reach for her prayer book and rosary, did she hear the voice, "Sister...Jude told me you had a fainting spell, Sister." The Monsignor. He was there.

Sighing, the blonde set down the glass and prepared herself for what was to come. She turned herself to face him, stepping agonizingly slowly before she was looking to him, straight on, her eyes filled with guilt. She saw his small smile when she greeted him, before he dropped his gaze, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. She stood speechless, moving her mouth to offer any kind words as he processed what he saw.

Timothy, stood like a soldier in the doorway before he swallowed, and cleared his throat. Mary Eunice thought he was about to leave, but instead, he surprised her. He stepped further into the room, and closed the door behind himself, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, obviously waiting for an explanation, though he did not need one.