I liiiiive. So, I started a job, broke off an engagement, started a new relationship, quite a job, and moved states away from my family to my boyfriend since I've last updated. So goes life. I also may have forgotten that this was a thing until I was looking for a fic to read and happened upon this one and oopsies.

So, now that I have no school and no job for a couple more weeks, hopefully I'll be able to write and finish this baby up. Sorry again, guys.

Disclaimer: I do not own Switched at Birth, or any of its characters.

It was getting dark again by the time we got back to the city. We probably could have gotten there much earlier, but now that I wasn't in distress and running away, there were actually a lot of places I wanted to stop and look at. I'm a tourist at heart, I suppose.

At some point, Emmett got ahead of me-probably to make sure I didn't lead him somewhere else-and he made his way to his house. I parked at the curb and though the engine was off, I couldn't seem to get out. My hands gripped the steering wheel and I stared ahead. After a moment, the door opened and Emmett was holding his hand out for me.

Taking a deep breath, I forced my hands to relax and I turned in my seat, getting out, though I ignored his hand. 'You ready?' he signed, and I felt myself nod, even if my head was screaming at me to turn back now.

I followed him up to his door, and inside the house. We went into the living room, where Melody was sitting and reading. She seemed to absentmindedly glance up at the movement and looked back down at her book before it registered that there had been movement. Her head jerked up and she quickly stood, her hands moving a flurry too fast for me to catch, and Emmett responding in kind.

As with people, I had learned that people signing had different voices, different accents. And I by far knew Emmett's accent better than Melody's, so his were the hands that I focused on. Though going fast, I still caught a few words. 'Fight', 'drove out of town', 'no gas'. I glanced at Melody, and she seemed unconvinced, and I knew Emmett hadn't gotten to the 'knocked up ex' part of the story. Had probably skipped over it. But she wasn't going to accept me getting into a fight with John as an excuse to crash for the night.

Despite my previous convictions that he got to deal with his family, I found myself taking a deep breath and stepping between them to wave my hands. I turned to her and signed with shaking hands, 'I'm pregnant. It's Emmett's. My dad told me to kill it. So I drove off and ran out of gas. Emmett came and got me and brought me back. If you don't want me to stay I understand and I'll go, but that's what happened.'

Her hands dropped to her sides as she looked first at me, then at Emmett. Her anger seemed to fade away in front of me, looking tired instead, and almost a little sad. 'How far along are you?'

'8 weeks.'

'And how long have you known?'

'Two.'

'And when did you tell him?'

'I... I didn't. Daphne did.'

'When?'

'A few days ago.'

She looked back at Emmett, angry again. 'You've known you were a father for a few days and you didn't tell me?'

He grinned sheepishly. 'Sorry.'

'You better be sorry. And you better not be planning on her sleeping on the couch. That's not happening.'

'I wasn't planning to let her sleep on the couch, mom. Give me some credit.'

Then where else was I supposed to go? Because that's very much what I had been planning. 'No, really, I'm fine on the couch. Just for a couple days, until everything cools down.'

Melody gave me a droll stare and while Emmett shook his head. 'You're not sleeping on the couch. Take my bed. I'll take the couch.'

'I'm not going to kick you out of your bed, Emmett.'

'It's not kicking out when I volunteer it.'

It's hard to argue with Emmett when he's set his mind to something. And when I'm tired and want to sleep the week away, anyway. 'Ok. Fine. But just for tonight. We'll figure something else out in the morning.'

The grin on his face spoke volumes to what he thought of that, but instead of saying anything, I just waved and made my way to his bedroom. It's not like I didn't know my way around this house. He followed me and grabbed some pajamas, holding them up in way of explanation before leaving again, shutting the door quietly behind him.

I sat on the bed and pulled out my phone, flipping through the texts. More of the same. Except for a couple differences.

One Unread SMS Message From: Dad

Don't bother coming home. I don't care what your mother says. You are no longer welcome here.

That stung more than I would have liked to admit, tears springing to my eyes. Then, right after that;

One Unread SMS Message From: Mom

I just saw what your father sent you. I kicked him out. Please come home.

My... My mom kicked him out? Kathryn Kennish actually kicked out her husband? I never would have imagined that she would have had it in her. But I guess even she has a limit. And for once, John had gone too far.

Way to go, Mom.

I laid back, not bothering to get into pajamas or to cover up. The moment my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.

You know the drill.