Chapter Sixteen

When Ana wakes, it's to confusion. In the ensuing moments, it all comes flooding back; the positive pregnancy test, Christian's reaction and flight from her presence, his inebriated and apologetic return, the text from Elena, and Ana's subsequent resolution to commence Christian's re-education on the correct way to treat his pregnant wife. So she knows why the nausea is rising, just as it's done for the past few days, but she hadn't thought anything of it. And she realizes why Sade is singing, "Your kisses ring, round and round and round my head."

Step 1: Change ring tone to "I'm an Asshole" by Dennis Leary.

"Yes?"

"Thank God. Baby, are you okay? Where are you?"

"Guest room."

There's a pause of several seconds. "For how long?"

"Until I can stand the idea of sharing a bed with you."

Another pause and Christian says, "Withholding sex? That's your plan to punish me?"

Tired and sick, her thoughts hampered by yet another or the same headache, Ana can't find the strength to explain things to him right now and wearily utters, "If you say so."

His voice rising, Christian demands, "What the fuck sort of answer is that?"

"Christian, I have a headache. If you're going to shout at me, I'll hang up."

Softer and gentler, Christian says, "I'm sorry, baby. I just…when I woke up and you weren't here, I…."

He doesn't need to finish. "Christian, I'm not going anywhere. If you being an asshole were grounds for me leaving, I'd have done so long ago."

He manages a weak laugh and asks, "Yeah, I guess so. Can I come up there and start apologizing?"

"We'll talk later. Right now, I have to..." Uh, oh.

Step 2. Learn and obtain the cure for morning sickness…today!

Dropping the phone on the bed, Ana just makes it to the toilet bowl before losing the contents of her stomach. She's dimly aware of a pounding, soon realizing that it's Christian seeking entry to the bedroom. She tries to tell him everything is okay, but another wave of nausea grips her. Finally able to stand, she's returning to reassure Christian when the door explodes inwards, soon followed by her frantic husband, looking pretty much the same as when she put him to bed…scruffier, if anything; the bruise on his cheek stark against pale flesh. His pathetic appearance and woebegone expression immediately start eroding her resolve, so she focusses on the project.

Step 3. Replace bedroom door.

Holding up a hand to halt his progress, she says, "I'm fine; just morning sickness."

Sensing where the boundary is, Christian halts five feet from her and appears pained when he insists, "You're not fine. You look like shit." At her glare, he says, "You know what I mean; you're all pale and sweaty."

"Yeah, well, you're hardly GQ cover material this morning, either. Please respect my wishes and leave me alone. I have to get ready for work."

Immediately wary, Christian asks, "You're really okay?"

"Yes."

"And you'll give me a chance to explain after work?"

"That depends; did you mean it when you said that I'm on my own?"

Having the decency to look genuinely ashamed, Christian groans and says, "No. I've no idea why I said that, or behaved the way I did. You know that I can't live without you. Whatever you decide, I'm with you…you and the baby."

Worried that he can somehow hear the grateful whimper deep within her, Ana summons reserves of strength she wasn't even aware of to say, "I'll see you tonight."

When Christian hesitates, she knows that he's deciding whether or not to comply, and she holds her breath, certain that she won't be able to resist him if he just steps forward and wraps his arms around her. Every good thought she's ever had about him is vindicated when he eventually inclines his head and says, "Thank you, Anastasia." Picking up a few shards of wood that flew off the door when he kicked it in, he adds "Uh, this will be fixed by the time you get home," before shutting it as best he can and leaving her alone.

She's showered and dressed when there's a knock at the door. Worried that it's Christian again, she tentatively says, "Yes?"

"Taylor, ma'am. Everything all right?"

Wondering what it must look like from his side, Ana quickly crosses to open the door and say, "Yes, I'm fine. I had a bout of morning sickness, and Christian thought I was in real trouble."

Taylor looks relieved and says, "Jen always kept crackers by the bed. Set your alarm a few minutes early and eat them before getting up in the morning. You're staying here for a while?"

Embarrassed that Taylor and Gail will be privy to her ongoing marital dramas, Ana blushes a little as she says, "Yes."

As if this is a completely normal conversation, Taylor says, "I'll let Gail know. She'll put some crackers on your nightstand. Some women swear by ginger, but I don't know anyone that actually worked for…Ana, are you okay?"

Realizing that her bottom lip is actually quivering, Ana swallows back her grief and says, "It's just…you and Gail have been kinder than…."

Unable to say another word, for fear that she'll dissolve into weeping and not stop, Ana stands mute as Taylor says, "Hey, he'll come around." Gesturing to the broken lock on the door, he adds, "He clearly still cares for you. And we both know he's a good man. He just needs to believe it. Would you like me to rearrange things so that I accompany you today?"

"Oh, no, thank you. I'll be fine. I like knowing that you're keeping Christian safe."

"All right, ma'am. As you're feeling a little fragile, may I suggest oatmeal for breakfast?"

"Uh, yes. That's fine."

"I'll let Gail know. Anything else I can do for you?"

Nervous about upsetting him, when he's been so good to her, Ana hesitates before asking, "Did you hit him because he went to Elena?"

Taylor's jaw clenches and unclenches a few times before he says, "Yes. But I don't think he had sex with her."

Smiling at his obtuseness, Ana says, "So he only insulted and abandoned me to spend the evening chatting with his former mistress rather than face the fact that he's about to become a father?"

His expression grim, Taylor says, "You're right. It would have been better if he'd just fucked her. I'm sorry, Ana. Want me to hit him again?"

Somehow, it's enough to make her laugh. But then Ana sobers and says, "It wouldn't do any good. He hates himself enough to enjoy it. Just…look after him, okay? He doesn't understand why he does crappy stuff like this and he'll be torturing himself today. I'm coming up with a plan to get him back on track, but I need to discuss it with John Flynn first." With a sad smile at the enormity of her task, she adds, "We have to push him through years of therapy in a little under eight months. Does life ever go according to plan?"

Taylor laughs and says, "Not my life. But it's working out okay so far." Then shaking his head a little, he adds, "I think you're being incredible about this; the lucky bastard doesn't deserve you."

Finally feeling strong enough to face her day, Ana says, "He does. He just doesn't know it yet. I'll be downstairs soon."

Accepting the dismissal, Taylor nods once and says "Ma'am," before leaving.

Stomping down the stairs, his head pounding and his heart aching, Christian is silently repeating the litany "Mother-fucking, son-of-a-harlot bastard," as he gets ready for work, noticing that it provides a nice rhythm for his movements. Staring at his unworthy-of-GQ reflection, he's gripped by a sudden and powerful need to destroy that image. Eventually bringing himself under control, he opens Ana's drawer, with trembling hands, to borrow some concealer for the bruise. On seeing that it's practically empty, he realizes that she must have taken even her makeup to the guest room, and that she must have done so last night. Considering the early morning text from her, he can guess the catalyst for such desperation, and slams the drawer shut, whirling away from the mirror before he feeds his starving rage with blood, pain and a shattering of glass.

On entering the kitchen, he's met by a stony-faced Gail, and decides to get any awkwardness out of the way, asking, "You want to hit me, too?"

Gail hesitates for a second, whether she's genuinely considering punching him or just deciding how much to say, he neither knows nor cares. "Yes, sir. But Mrs. Grey wouldn't approve. I presume you have a hangover?"

Relieved that her nurturing side is still active, Christian sighs and says, "Like a son-of-a-bitch; no breakfast for me, thanks. Ana has morning sickness. What can we do for that?"

"It's being taken care of, sir."

"Thank you. And thank you, for last night. I understand that you helped Ana after I…when I…. Fuck! You know what I'm trying to say."

"After you demanded that she have an abortion, and then told her that she would have to raise the child alone when she refused? Yes, sir. I helped her."

Her rage evident in the last few words, Christian again gives her the chance, "Sure you don't want to hit me?"

Smiling evilly, Gail says, "I'm afraid it's much worse than that, sir." Quickly making an espresso – the sound of the machine grinding into Christian's brain – and adding to the breakfast tray she prepared earlier, she puts it before him and reveals, "Mrs. Grey's instructions this morning are that we're to look after you."

Staring at the coffee, oatmeal, fruit smoothie, water and two aspirin, Christian then gratefully gulps down the coffee – the scalding liquid providing instant relief – and drops the aspirin in the water as he says, "Thanks. But I can't eat anything."

"Would you have me disappointment Mrs. Grey, sir?" Thinking that he'd rather she hit him, Christian is wavering when Gail adds, "Apart from tea instead of coffee and Tylenol instead of aspirin, this tray is identical to hers. Uh, I'm sorry, sir, but last night I gave her ibuprofen for the headache."

The world suddenly closing in on him, a terrified Christian asks, "Well, how bad is that?"

Still looking guilty, Gail says, "Not very bad, I think; at least at that dose. But it's not recommended. By tonight, I'll know how best to care for Mrs. Grey. Again, I'm sorry, sir. I didn't know. I've experience with children, but not a woman with child."

Dismayed that Gail should feel any guilt over last night, when he's the fuck-up, Christian waves away her apology, saying, "I don't see how the fuck any of this can be your fault." Staring at the offending food, he takes a deep breath and adds, "Okay, I'll eat. But this had better work."

"Yes, sir. Welcome back, sir."

At first confused, Christian then realizes that she's speaking not of his presence, but his brusque manner. Holding up the fizzy, liquid remedy in toast to her, he says, "Cheers." After downing the glass, which blessedly appears content to stay in his stomach, he drags the oatmeal closer as he asks, "How often does Ana get headaches?"

"Uh, I don't know, sir. But I've regularly had to stock up on over-the-counter pain relievers since she moved in. It's not an alarming amount, or I would have mentioned it. But…I guess it's possible that Mrs. Grey also buys some during the day. Did I do something wrong?"

Christian offers a weak smile and says, "I sincerely doubt you ever have. No, it's Ana; for some reason she has the notion that suffering in silence is a virtue. I noticed that she often wakes up with a headache, but assumed that they'd stopped. Turns out she just stopped mentioning them, so as not to worry me. For obvious reasons, she's not too keen on me right now. I'll try and persuade her to see a doctor. If I don't succeed, would you…I know you've already done a lot, but she looks up to you..."

Ana's sudden appearance at the door stops him. Gail goes so far as to offer a reassuring pat on his hand when she assures, "Yes, sir." To Ana, she brightly says, "Good morning, ma'am. Feeling any better?"

Warily eyeing Christian, Ana says, "A little, thank you." Handing over the reams of paper Dr. Greene gave her yesterday, she adds, "Would you please print out a few copies of these, and get one to me before I leave for work? I'm running late. Keep one for yourself; it's all you'll need to know about my diet, etcetera. And give one to Mr. Grey."

Wincing at the formal title, Christian asks, "Would you prefer that I come back later?"

Ana shrugs and says, "It's your kitchen."

As if the exchange hasn't taken place, Gail says, "Of course, Mrs. Grey. Are you able to stomach a light breakfast?"

With a grimace, Ana says, "I'm willing to attempt it, thank you. Though I suspect that whether or not it stays down isn't up to me." Sitting down at the counter, but a seat away from Christian, she asks him, "Are you prepared to see John today and tell him everything that's happened?"

Surprised that she'd think otherwise, he says, "Uh, of course. I tried to talk to him last night, but he wouldn't answer his fucking phone."

Step 4. Command respect.

"Unless I tell you otherwise, I'd rather you didn't use such language when speaking with me." At his open-mouthed shock, Ana says, "I know you can do it, because you offer your mother such courtesy."

"Uh, okay…yes, ma'am. Are we still waiting until tonight before we discuss my abominable behavior?"

Hoping that her profound relief at his cooperation isn't evident, Ana clips, "Yes. And, thank you."

Ana almost laughs then, because only she sees Gail's mighty wink as the most perfect housekeeper in all the world prepares another breakfast tray. Ana smiles again on seeing that it's a copy of Christian's. She catches his eye, only to see that he's also not quite managing to conceal his mirth. Sitting almost next to each other, silently eating their cloned meals, Ana finally dares to hope that they're going to be okay.

Wondering if he lingers on purpose, Ana finishes first. After thanking Gail, she's leaving when Christian says, "Uh, Ana?"

Immediately back to afraid, she nevertheless turns to him and wills firmness into her voice when she says, "Yes?"

"If I set up an appointment with a specialist, would you please consent to see someone about these headaches?" His tension evident in every line of his body, Ana knows that this isn't something he'll easily be able to put aside, despite the fact that he's almost certainly overreacting yet again.

Step 5. Remember the teachings of the Dalai Lama and be kind whenever possible.

"Yes, Christian. You'll contact Hannah and add it to my schedule?"

Ana can almost see the relief wash over him, as if it's something tangible, and he says, "Yes. Thank you. Please remember to eat lunch?"

His tender concern is an assault on the integrity of her project, because Ana is once again filled with an overwhelming and irrational need to just apologize for anything she's done since finding out about the pregnancy. She knows, like she knows that the sun will rise tomorrow, that Christian would, at a word from her, gladly rewind to where they were only twenty-four hours ago; sneaking a quickie before work and laughing as they did so. But that would solve nothing; she'd still have to eventually face the fact that he's not ready to be a father.

Step 6…actually, make this Prime Directive. Remember what's at stake and HOLD FAST.

Cool as the proverbial cucumber, Ana asks, "Do you feel that you still have the right to tell me what to do?"

With a quiet smile, as if he can see right through her calm façade to the whimpering, needy girl within, Christian says, "No, ma'am. I asked, out of concern for your health and that of your unborn child."

At his words, Ana knows that they still have a long way to go. Drowning in sorrow, she manages to keep her head above water long enough to keep her voice from cracking when she says, "I'll remember. See you tonight."

Mystified by her sudden mood change, when she'd seemed almost at ease in his presence only moments ago, Christian is wholly unprepared for the resounding smack to the back of his head, excruciatingly amplifying the pain already there. Rounding on Gail, one hand clutching the site of her attack, he angrily demands, "What the fuck, Gail? I thought you weren't going to hit me? What was that for?"

Everything about her expressing rage, Gail storms out with the pre-natal guidelines as she says, "You're a smart guy, sir. You'll figure it out."

She hasn't even reached Taylor's office, to photocopy those pages for Ana, before Christian texts her, "Because I said "your unborn child" not "our unborn child"?"

Smiling that he's at least considering what effect his words have on Ana, Gail doesn't hesitate to reply, "Yes, sir."

"Thank you. And don't EVER hit me again!"

Her smile widening, Gail doesn't bother replying to this one.

On seeing that it's John Flynn calling, Ana's heart beats a little faster, because she knows he's calling about Christian. "Hi, John. How'd it go?"

"Surprisingly well, actually. I was expecting either homicidal or suicidal, but he was…well, I've known Christian for over a decade and he's never before been so amenable. I'm pretty sure I could persuade him to try electric shock therapy, if you'd like?"

Ana manages a small laugh and says, "Thanks, anyway. But I'm not quite that cruel."

"It's actually not too bad nowadays; not at all what you're imagining. Sadly, wouldn't do an ounce of good in this case, other than to make me feel better. I'm so sorry you had to endure that, Ana. Did you see Madeline?"

"Not necessary. I understand, better than Christian does, why he behaved like that. He can only have seen this news as an attack, and it seemed, at least to his subconscious – that scared little boy inside him – that I was the attacker. Do you think…is there any chance?"

"I do; an excellent chance, in fact. He was predictably angry at our news, and the fact that we'd concealed it from him. But, like I said, he's pretty much ready to accept anything I say. I imagine he'll be pondering the implications all day. And I'm as certain as it gets in my profession that he'll cooperate with you tonight. He still feels like shit, but is beginning to glimpse why he acted apparently out of character. Your instincts have served you well yet again; I can't imagine how much damage would have been done if you'd left him."

Relieved beyond her ability to express it, that she's doing the right thing, when everything she does feels like a violation of the trust she has…had, with Christian and an aberration of her own nature, Ana sighs deeply and says, "Well, for a start, I can't even imagine life without him. Plus, when he got home last night, he was barely coherent; other than to apologize a few times, the only words he spoke were to reinforce his shockingly skewed self-image. What's the point of punishing someone who could only see it as reinforcement of the lie that they're a monster who deserves every bad thing that's ever happened to them?"

"Seriously, Ana, you could hang out your shingle today and do a better job than some of my colleagues."

Ana smiles at the compliment and says, "Except that I only know Christian. Most people are a mystery to me, including myself. Thank you, though."

"No problem. Do you want me there tonight, when you outline your plan?"

"No, thank you. I'm not going to break down; our baby's future hangs in the balance here. I know it probably sounds crazy, given his initial reaction, but I still trust Christian to do the right thing. I just…why did he go to her? I can understand and forgive everything except that."

"Christian said that he was too drunk to drive, so started walking, without a direction in mind. Apparently, when he looked up, he was outside her place of business; miles from where he'd started. I'm not excusing it. He still made the conscious choice to talk to her. But I do believe him."

"That scared little boy sought her out; kind of makes sense, I guess. Oh, did you keep that bit of paper with my conditions for leaving him?"

"I did. You want it?"

"Please. Can you courier it to the apartment? I'll leave word at the desk that I'm expecting something from you."

"Christian is in my recovery room…presumably putting holes in the walls. Want me to give it to him?"

"I thought you said he's okay?"

Ana can hear the smile when John says, "You've met Christian Grey, right? Holes in walls is a tame reaction to the news that he often is the man who abused him."

Worried as she is, Ana manages a laugh and says, "I see what you mean. It won't matter that he knows you're talking to me?"

"Not at all. I made it very clear that you and I are cooperating. He needs that kind of reassurance, and every reinforcement helps."

"Okay. Uh, please add something like 'If you ever meet with that woman again, I will leave you,' then show it to him. What do you think?"

"Good, but lacks punch, I think. Of course, it's up to you."

Remembering her 2am text, Ana says, "Add 'bitch' in capital letters. He knows that I can't abide that word."

"I think that should make things very clear. I'll do that right now. I'm curious; why that word?"

"Uh, can't remember, except that it's also used to describe female dogs. I'm not a fan of 'stupid' as a label, either."

"Then I hope Christian didn't go that far last night?"

"I honestly can't remember. I pretty much went into shock when he ripped the…can we wrap this up before I start crying again? I'm at work."

His voice kind, John says, "Of course, though you know that Madeline or I are available if you need to talk. Any questions?"

"Uh, no. Thank you. And thanks for seeing him on such short notice."

"No problem. I'm sorry that I couldn't take his call last night."

"That's all right, John. He could have called your colleague, but he didn't."

"I'm not sure he could, actually."

"I guess not, given his trust issues. Am I doing the right thing? If I'm putting the baby or Christian at risk by choosing this course, I…please tell me I'm not enduring this for nothing."

After several seconds, long enough to make Ana nervous, he says, "I asked Christian if he believes that he deserves a third chance with you."

"Wow, you're even tougher on him than I am."

"I hope so; he pays me to be. Christian thought about it for a while and then said, 'I'd say no, except for Ana's special gift.' Know what he was talking about?"

"I've no idea; clumsiness?"

John laughs and says, "Oh, Ana, if I thought you were serious…Christian says that your special gift is to see the good in people."

Finally, there it is, that too-much-love ache in her chest, and she's hugging herself as she asks, "He said that?"

More soft laughter and John says, "He did."

"Thanks, John. I'll be okay, now."

"I haven't yet made my point."

"Oh, sorry. Go ahead."

"I was thrilled that he comprehends that about you, but asked how that made him worthy." Ana is actually holding her breath, praying that she's guessed correctly. She only releases her breath when John quotes, "Because she loves me, so I know that I'm a good man."

Where credit's due: "Prime Directive"? I think Ana is a closet Trekkie;-) "HOLD FAST" is a traditional tattoo for sailors (on knuckles); several interpretations abound online, if you're curious, but I've always assumed it simply means "Don't give up."