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The cramping had started an hour earlier and she'd curled up on the sofa, covered with a blanket, trying to convince herself that it was nothing to worry about. The doctor had said to expect it…that the procedure had stimulated her uterus and cramping was a logical consequence of that, but he'd also said to call if the cramps were strong and she was having trouble deciding what constituted "strong." They probably weren't worse than menstrual cramps, but she'd always thought her menstrual cramps were painful. She put her hand gently on her stomach, feeling the slight roundness that she was sure was noticeable to no one but her, "You're gonna be fine, little one," she promised the baby and hoped she was telling the truth. "Stay put for Mommy…please," she begged.

There was a pounding at the door, and she jumped, startled by it. She wasn't expecting anyone and she didn't want to see anyone either…especially not right now. It was probably Fin, coming back to check on her. She pulled herself up from the couch and walked slowly to the door, trying not to jostle her body in any way. The pounding resumed and she groaned, wondering why he was being so persistent, but grateful that he cared enough to check on her. She looked out the peep hole and froze. It wasn't Fin, it was Elliot and she wasn't going to open the door. If she was quiet, maybe he'd think she wasn't home. She couldn't face him right now.

"Olivia!" he shouted, "Let me in. I know you're in there!" She stood on her side of the door and cringed as he pounded harder. "Damn it Liv…open this damn door!" Her neighbors would probably call the police if she didn't do something, and that was the last thing either of them needed. She unlocked the door and pulled it open, looking at his face, red with anger. He didn't say anything, just stared at her and she swallowed the lump in her throat. He shook his head, "When were you going to tell me?" he asked painfully.

She closed the door, and walked slowly back to the couch. He watched her, realizing she was in pain and even though he was angry he was faced with an overwhelming concern for her wellbeing. He followed her, noticing the blankets and pillows and watched as she put a pillow behind her back and curled her feet under her. Instinctively he picked up the blanket, wrapping it around her and she looked at him tearfully, "How did you find out?" she asked.

He sat next to her, "Fin told me."

"I'm gonna kill him," she sighed. "He shouldn't have done that."

"You're right," he agreed. "You should have."

"I'm sorry…" was the only response she could muster, and she truly was. She should have told him and she'd known it from the beginning.

"Ten weeks, Liv…ten damn weeks…" he shook his head and closed his eyes. "When were you going to tell me?"

She shrugged, "I just wanted to make sure I could do this…that I could have the baby…"

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Were you thinking about not having this baby?" He looked at her, so weak and pale and he remembered the procedure she was supposed to have done that day, "Oh God…you didn't have an abortion did you? Liv, please…"

"No," she insisted. "Of course not…why would you think that?"

"I'm sorry…I just knew you were having something done today," he looked at her seriously. "What did you have done today?"

"A test," she answered, knowing he wouldn't be thrilled about it. "To check for abnormalities…"

"Why?" he asked. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I'm forty-six and pregnant," she tried to explain. "Do you know what the odds are of having a baby with some sort of defect at my age?"

"I don't want to know the odds," he argued. "It doesn't matter."

"One in twenty, El…and it matters to me," she cried. "I need to know."

He shook his head, "So, if something is wrong, you're not going to have it? Is that what you're saying? I have no say in this?"

"That's not what I'm saying," she had dreaded this conversation and she knew he would never see her side. "I just need to know…to know what I'm facing here."

"Just admit it," his words were sharp, "You don't think you can love this baby if it isn't perfect."

"I love this baby," she argued. "Don't you ever say that to me again! I love this baby enough to give it a fighting chance…not just leave everything up to fate."

"It's up to God…not fate," he sputtered.

"God would want me to know if the baby is sick…to have time to read up on it and determine what is best for the baby and for us," she cried. "Oh…" she doubled over, holding her stomach and trying to breathe slowly while the cramp passed.

"What's wrong?" he asked nervously, but she didn't answer. "Liv…what the hell is going on? Do you need a doctor?"

She shook her head as the cramp passed and she was able to relax her body, "No…I'm okay. The doctor said I'd probably have cramps after the procedure. It's normal…the tube they used to remove the placenta sample stimulated my uterus, but it'll let up by tomorrow."

"You let them stick a tube inside you and pull out part of our baby's placenta?" he asked in disbelief. "And you didn't think you needed to talk with me about that?"

"I couldn't talk to you about it, El," she said sadly. "I knew you'd react like this."

"And you did it anyway," he stood up and walked toward the door. "I hope you feel better. Let me know if you decide to have the baby…"

"Elliot," she stood up, wanting to run after him but she was too uncomfortable to chase him down. He slammed the door and she cried as she watched him go. She was going to call him, but decided it would probably be better to just go to the bathroom and head to bed. She'd try talking to him again in the morning.

Elliot sat in his jeep, seething with anger. He loved her…even with all of this, he still loved her. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want a baby, especially not a sick one…and it scared him that he felt that way, but it had happened and so it was obviously God's will. She didn't have the right to put that decision into her own hands…no matter how scared either of them were. He wanted to go back up and talk to her, but she wasn't feeling well and he'd yelled at her. He was ashamed of himself for that. She was carrying his baby, and he'd yelled at her. He should've told her he was happy…even though he wasn't…and he should have taken care of her…but he hadn't. His cell phone rang, bringing him back from his thoughts and he picked it up and looked at it. It was her…why was she calling him now? He wasn't ready to talk to her. He was afraid he'd get angry again and he didn't want to yell at her anymore. He started the jeep, letting the phone go to voicemail. He was ready to pull out of his parking space when the phone beeped, a signal that he had a new text message. He picked it up and looked at it, his face dropping. El, please come back. I need help. I'm bleeding.

He pulled the keys out of the ignition and ran upstairs.