She lets go of him, and he wipes the tears from her eyes. He sits next to her, trying to silently reassure her that he's not going anywhere.

"They wouldn't perform the procedure because you were too far along."

"No one will," she adds.

"So you don't have any other choice?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Have you gone to..."

She answers his question before he can finish asking it, "No."

"Don't you think that you should?"

"Yes."

"Then why haven't you?"

"Because I don't want to face it."

"You have to."

"I..."

"I'll go with you."

"That isn't necessary," she argues.

"I insist."

Days later they find themselves at a six a.m. appointment. They sit in the waiting room in silence. They're the only people in the room. Nick sits next to her, as she nervously chews on her cuticle. Finally the nurse calls her name, and they follow her to an exam room. She takes a seat on the exam table, and waits for the doctor. Nick sits in a chair nearby. He studies her closely. She wears a loose fitting button up. He reminds himself that everything she wore lately was loose fitting. He isn't sure if it's because of what she's trying to hide, or if it's because of the significant weight lost during her six months in hell.

There is a knock on the door, and the physician enters the room. He goes through the usual introductions, and round of questions. He eyes Olivia suspiciously after some of her answers. She explains the situation, and his look of bewilderment turns to a look of horror.

"Shall we get started?"

Olivia nods, leaning back on the table. She takes the grey button down off, only to reveal a tank top. She rolls the bottom of the shirt up, and answers Nick's earlier question. The loose fitting clothing is not because she is trying to conceal something, because it isn't noticeable, despite the fact that she's nearly in her third trimester. He holds her hand, and she stares upward, at the ceiling tiles. She ignores the sound that fills the room.

Nick finds that he can't take his eyes off of the monitor. She stares at the black, and white image in complete disbelief. The doctor clears his throat, and turns to Olivia.

"Miss Benson do you want to do any genetic testing? We highly recommend testing to anyone..."

She cuts him off, "No."

"Okay, that is your choice, but I would like to reiterate that it is highly recommended."

"Are we almost finished?" She questions with a pained look on her face.

"Do you want to know gender?"

She takes a moment to consider this question, "No."

"Okay. Visit the receptionist on the way out, she will get you taken care of. I want to see you back in two weeks."

After the doctor leaves the room Olivia wipes the green gel off her abdomen, and quickly redresses. She looks over at Nick.

"I..."

"Do you want me to schedule the appointment? You can head to the car. I know..."

She doesn't allow him to finish, "Please."

When he reaches the car she's already settled in the passenger's seat. He puts the key in the ignition, and looks over at her.

"I don't want to talk about it," she insists.

"You have to talk about it. You have to face it."

"I don't want to."

"You don't have much of a choice," he argues.

"Nick, please."

"I need you to hear what I have to say."

"I don't want to do this. Can we please just go to work?"

"I need you to look at something."

She frowns. He pulls the black and white image out of a stack of papers. She refuses to take the image from him.

"Liv!"

She slides the picture out of his hand. She barely glances at the image, and tries to return it to him.

"Olivia you need to look at it."

"Why? I don't want to look at it. I know that this real, but that doesn't mean that I want to look at it. I don't want to deal with it. I am not okay with any of this. I was in hell for six months, and even though I'm not in that basement anymore this nightmare isn't over. The person responsible for this is still out there somewhere. He could do this to someone else. Not to mention now I have to give birth to a child who is the product of rape. I have to figure out how I am ever supposed to be okay. Why are you pushing me?"

"Just look at the picture."

"Do you think looking at the picture is going to suddenly make everything alright? This isn't a fairytale. I am not suddenly going to feel something because I looked at this damn picture! I can feel the baby move inside of me, and I still don't feel anything."

"That isn't why I want you to look at the picture."

"If there is something wrong, I don't want to know. I don't care."

"Yes you do. We both know that is part of why this is so hard for you. You do care."

"But I don't want to."

"Liv," he says in a quiet voice, "Please."

The tears brim from her eyes, and make their way down her cheeks, "I can't. I can't do this."

"I know that you've been through hell, and that this isn't fair. I know that you feel like your world his been tipped upside down, and you down know how to fix it. You have to see this through whether you want to or not."

"Can you just take me home?"

"Do you really want me to take you home so you can be alone?"

She looks over at him. As he stares into her dark eyes he can see that her heart is breaking, and a conflicted look is written on her face.

"I don't want to be alone. I..." she trails off.

"You're not alone," he says a quiet, but reassuring tone.