Chapter 17

Christian

She looks up at me, her big blue eyes suddenly more vulnerable than I've ever seen, full of unshed tears. Her hand is covered in blood, and she's crouched on the ground holding her dress up.

All night, I thought Ana might be suffering from some stomach bug that her useless partner was being completely unsympathetic about. I saw every twinge, every flinch, every crease on her face and flex of her hands as she dealt with the pain. And this whole time, she's been bleeding from the inside out, losing a pregnancy.

She was pregnant. That's why she was ill.

She faints on stage, and that worthless waste of breath excuses himself to take a phone call instead of going to look for her.

I'm seeing red. But I can't think about the face I'm going to gleefully punch out later. She's in crisis. I lookat Taylor loitering off to the side, and I nod. He leaves, understanding what I'm asking. "Can you stand? I'm taking you to the hospital."

She shakes her head, eyes even wider. "You can't do that."

Is she insane? "Ana, you cannot stay here."

"No, I'll leave, but I can't go with you," she says desperately.

"Why the fuck not?" Am I that nightmarish to her?

"He'll see. It's… complicated. I—" So, it's about him. Not me. I reach down and scoop her up off the ground, then turn on my heel to go the long way around the tent. "Christian! No, I'll get blood on you!"

"I'm taking you to the house to get settled and clean up, and then I'm taking you to the hospital." I hope my tone leaves room for no arguments, but with her, you never know.

She's quiet most of the way as I carry her through the dark. "Can you tell them when I'm going? They'll worry."

"Who?"

"Kate and Mia."

"Not…?"

She shakes her head. "No. I'll deal with him later." As will I.

I drop her off outside my parents' main bathroom. I assume my mom might have some necessary… supplies that Ana might be able to use. "Take your time. I'll be back in a moment."

I run back down to the tent, immediately finding Mia backstage with Kate seeming to be trying to comfort her. "Christian! Have you seen Ana? I looked, I don't know where she went!" Mia yelps.

"I have her. She's ill. We're going to the hospital."

Kate's face goes white. "The baby?" she whispers.

Mia gasps. "Baby? Baby?" She looks back and forth from me to Kate.

It dawns on me why Kate has been avoiding my calls. She knew, and she couldn't say. "It appears that she's miscarrying. She wanted me to tell you where she went."

Kate nods solemnly, and Mia's brow furrows. "She was pregnant, and that fucking scum—"

Oh, I haven't forgotten about him. "Where is he?"

"Outside the tent, still on his call," Kate sneers.

Without a word, I leave them and go back outside, stalking around the side of the tent to the front so no other guests see me. He's there, casually pacing and speaking on the phone, just as Kate said. "Westerley."

He turns and smirks when he sees me. "I'll have to call you back." He puts the phone in his pocket and begins to saunter over to me. "I suppose you checked on my girl?"

I close the distance between us, and finally, the daydream I've had thousands of times comes true. My fist connects squarely with his jaw, knocking him flat on his ass. I kneel down and yank him up by his shirt, looking him dead in his beady little eyes. "Listen to me, you disgusting piece of shit. You have the entire fucking world, and you've wasted it for the last time. If you go near her again, I swear to God I will dedicate the rest of my life to making yours a living hell. Now get the fuck off of my parents' property. You have five seconds to get your ass moving before Taylor removes you. I'd do it myself, but a murder charge wouldn't be easy to shake, even for me."

He turns his head and spits blood on the ground. "We'll see about that," he splutters.

I clench my teeth and throw him back onto the ground, standing up and going back towards the house. I need to get out of there before I really do mortally injure him. Taylor will handle it.

Ana is still in the bathroom, for the moment blissfully unaware of how complicated this has become. After a moment, she comes out, seeming a bit startled to see me right there. "You don't have to do this."

"Come on, Ana." I reach for her hand.

"No, just listen. I don't think he'll take this lying down. He—" She pauses to grunt and puts her hand over her stomach.

"Can you walk?" She doesn't answer. Her breath is picking up. "I'll carry you."

I gently pick her up again, grateful that Taylor had the foresight to pull my car around to the front before tending to his rougher duties. She groans quietly, but she doesn't protest. I'm glad. She feels like she should be in my arms. She's been through enough tonight, she deserves protection.

I set her down so I can open the car door. "Blood, Christian," she halfheartedly protests.

"I don't mind, Ana." I can have the car cleaned. Hell, I can just buy a new one.

She gingerly sits in the front seat. I make sure she's securely buckled, then go around to the driver's side. "Oh, no," she mutters to herself, bending forward so she's almost in the fetal position.

It pains me to see her hurting, and a small part of me recognizes the irony in this, given our history. "Are you in pain?" The strain in my voice is obvious to me. I wonder if it is to her.

"Yes," she gasps.

"We'll be there in a few minutes, baby. Hold on." I don't realize exactly what I've said until she does a double take at me, but then she looks away.

Thank goodness the commute from my parents' house to the hospital isn't long. I don't know how to toe the line between driving safely and driving like someone in the car is in serious pain. When we get there, I stop right outside the front and go around to open her door. "I don't think you can park here?"

"There's valet parking, Ana, come on. Go inside and I'll deal with that." Since the valet is taking his sweet fucking time walking over here.

I finally give the lazy man my keys and Ana is already sitting in the waiting room by the time I get in there. I sit next to her, and she looks over at me. She looks tired. "Aren't you going back to the party?"

I snort. "Not likely, Ana."

"Well, you can go. I can find my own way—" She stops short of saying the word 'home.' "Well, Kate could come get me."

"When will you learn that I'm there for you and I'm not going anywhere?"

She blushes, her eyes widening a bit, then nods. "Okay. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. There's nothing else I'd want to be doing right now. Are you in pain?"

"A little, but I'm not having a… a… contraction right now." She turns her gaze to her twiddling thumbs in her lap.

I want to ask her how she's feeling, how long she's known, all sorts of things. Hell, I want to ask if this was planned. How she feels about him. How she'll feel when she knows I nearly knocked his ass out. But nothing I want to say feels right, so I just reach over and take her hand. She stiffens at first, but then relaxes and accepts my touch.

"Anastasia Steele?" someone calls after I don't know how long.

She gets up, and I stand up too. "Oh, is your partner coming back?" this lady asks.

"Yes," I answer automatically. She turns and looks at me, confused. "If you want me to," I amend.

She looks back to the lady in scrubs. "He can come."

They lead us back to a strange little bed behind three walls of curtains. Scrub lady looks at her clipboard. "So, you mentioned that you believe you're experiencing a miscarriage."

Ana sits on the side of the bed and nods. "Yes."

"Did you try to contact your obstetrician?"

"Yes. She didn't answer. I left a message."

Scrub lady reaches under the bed and pulls out a gown, handing it to her. "Here, put this on. The doctor will be with you in a moment."

She slides back off the bed and looks at me sheepishly. "Um… would you mind helping me unzip? I had a team help me, and I'm not really sure how they got this dress on."

I smile despite the situation. "Yes." I unzip the dress as far down as I can, my mind not able to ignore the fact that she apparently wasn't wearing a bra. I clear my throat. "I'll… just step outside for a moment."

I hear rather than see the dress completely fall to the floor. "Come back in now," she says after a minute.

She's transformed from a glamorous woman attending an important gala to a pale creature who looks sad and tired, and very small in her oversized hospital gown, almost as young as when I knew her before. She lurches forward again like she did in the car, putting her hand over her lower belly and groaning. Instinctively, I step forward and put my hands on her shoulders. Her head lolls on the shoulder, and I tentatively reach around and rub her back. If I'm not mistaken, she leans into my touch.

We've been in this position for a few long moments before the curtain pulls back. "Anastasia?"

She lifts her head, still hunched over. "Yes."

"I'm Dr. Anderson. I'm the on-call obstetrician tonight." She holds her hand out to Ana, then me. "Is this the daddy?" Well, that's a question I never thought would be in reference to me.

Ana sits up a bit more, leaning away from me. "Uh… no. He's not here."

"My apologies. So, I hear you're having some symptoms of miscarriage. Tell me, how heavy is the bleeding? Are you passing any clots?"

"It's heavy. There are clots."

"Any pain?"

"Recurring intense cramps. Worse than a period."

"For how long?"

"I felt some twinges this morning, and it got worse all day long."

"And how far along are you?"

"Six… no, seven weeks."

"Okay. Well, let's take a look in there and see what's going on."

She moves past me and turns on what I assume to be some kind of imaging machine, and Ana slides down the bed like she knows what's coming. "Would you mind if I don't look?" Ana asks with a strain in her voice, pointedly looking away.

"That's okay, whatever makes you comfortable."

I move to the other side of the bed where Ana is craning her neck. I crouch down and meet her eyes, then reach out and take her hand. Her eyes widen again, and I think I catch a lip quivering, but she doesn't say anything, and she doesn't push me away.

The doctor squeezes some gel on what looks like some kind of probe, then moves Ana's gown to the side, exposing her belly. I keep my eyes locked on hers, watching the emotions pass through them. Her breathing picks up, and tears start to form as the doctor moves the imaging around. I squeeze her hand, and she squeezes back. We stare at each other like we're the only two things that exist until the doctor speaks again. "There is no heartbeat, and what I'm seeing is a complete miscarriage in progress. I'm sorry." She switches the machine off, and a tear rolls down Ana's cheek.

She snaps her neck over to look at the doctor as soon as the machine clicks off. "Was it my fault?" she asks, her voice shaking.

"The miscarriage?"

"Yes. I've been… really upset and stressed lately. Did that… hurt the baby?"

The doctor's face softens with sympathy. "No, dear. Most miscarriages before twelve weeks are simply down to chromosomal errors that make the fetus incompatible with life. There is nothing you could have done differently that would have let you hold onto this baby. Is this your first pregnancy?" Ana nods. "If I may ask, had you been trying?" And now I'm wishing I waited outside. Jesus, I really don't want to know this.

Ana vehemently shakes her head. "I wasn't trying. I was on birth control. This was a huge surprise."

"And… is the father in the picture?"

Her expression grows darker. "He draws his own pictures." I've never seen her look so bleak, and it's chilling.

The doctor nods somberly. "Okay… well, you can expect bleeding for the next week or so. I'm going to prescribe you misoprostol, which is going to help complete the bleeding and make sure everything passes. You're in for a rough night, but you should start feeling better tomorrow, and you can take any pain relief. Make an appointment with your gynecologist for a few weeks from now, and they can do another ultrasound to make sure everything passed as it should and you're not at risk for any infections. We have a social worker on call as well. Are you in need of any information for mental health services?"

She shakes her head. "I… don't know what I feel right now. If I need it, I'll look into something once I get my head on straight."

"Very well. I'll grab that prescription for you, and then you can get home and get comfortable."

I expect her to slide off the bed and reach for her crumpled dress on the floor, but she doesn't move, and when she does, she lifts her hands to her face and starts crying into them. "Oh, Ana." I wrap my arms around her, and she leans into me, weeping into my chest.

"I—I'm sorry," she sobs. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know. It hurts, and I've been so scared, and—"

"You don't have to explain, Ana. You're going through so much right now. I'm right here." I stroke her hair, and slowly her vice grip on my shirt starts to loosen and her tears start to slow. "Why don't you wait here for the prescription, and I'll get the car? That way we can get right out of here?"

"Kate's house is out of your way, isn't it?"

"You're coming home with me, Ana."

"I can't—"

"Please. It will give me so much more peace of mind."

She sighs and closes her eyes. "I want to. I just… he won't like it."

I'm stunned by what her words may imply. "Do you still care what he likes?"

"No. I don't. But it's complicated. He won't like that I'm with you, and that could make things really ugly, and I don't want to drag you into this."

I shrug. "Fuck that. I'm already in." All the fucking way in.

Once again, the curtain abruptly pulls back. They really should figure out some way to knock. "Here's your prescription. Do you have any questions?" She gives us a strange look for being in an embrace, and I scowl back at her.

"No."

"Well, I wish you well. I grabbed your discharge papers for you as well."

"Thank you." She takes all the papers and slides off the bed, and the judgmental doctor leaves. "I think I need your help with the dress again," she says sheepishly.

I chuckle. "I'm sure you'll be happy to get into pajamas. I had Taylor pick up some supplies you might need." I turn around as she slips the gown off.

"When did you have time to do that?" She taps me on the shoulder, signaling that she's ready for help with the zipper.

I turn and fulfill my duty. "I texted him after I parked."

She smirks. "I was a foregone conclusion, huh?"

"More like if you fail to plan, you plan to fail."

I bring the car around while she checks out at the desk. I think some thirsty-looking woman in the waiting room recognizes me, judging by the double take. As if. I idle the car right outside the entrance, ready to bite off anyone's head who tells me to move, but she comes out quickly enough.

We sit in silence as I get on the road. Luckily, it's not a long drive home. She seems preoccupied, and I find myself not knowing what to say again. So, we pass the entire drive quietly. When we step into the elevator, she stands on the complete opposite side, and I wonder if she's remembering what I told her about the last time we were in an elevator together. That seems so long ago, though it was only a couple of weeks.

On the table in the foyer sits a pair of women's pajamas and a box of heavy-duty pads. Her cheeks color at the sight of them. "Are you ready to get to bed?" I ask her. It's late, and she's been in pain all day. That must be doubly exhausting.

She nods, clutching the supplies to her chest. "Where do I go?"

I lead her down the hall to the bedroom she slept in before. "Everything you need should be in the bathroom. Get changed, I'll be right back."

I change into some pajamas, go to my bathroom to get her some Advil, then go to the kitchen to get her some water. I also grab some extra blankets, as I've heard my mother say that losing blood can make people feel cold. She's in the bathroom with the door closed and water running when I return, setting up all her supplies.

When she comes out, she's looking tired and young again, her face freshly washed. And beautiful, of course. "Stay in bed as long as you want. I'll check on you in the morning when I wake up, but don't feel obligated to come find me when you wake." And certainly don't feel obligated to leave, I want to add.

"Thank you, Christian. You are just… unbelievable."

I think and hope she means this in a positive way. "Do you need anything else?"

She sits on the side of the bed and stares up at me, looking conflicted. "Um, I hope this isn't a completely outrageous request, and if it is, please say no, but… could you just… could you stay with me until I fall asleep? I just… I don't want to be alone with my thoughts right now."

I try not to let my face betray my shock. "Of course."

She smiles gratefully and gets under the covers. I walk around to the other side of the bed and stretch out next to her on top of the covers, almost in perfect spooning position. She switches the light off, and we lay side by side for a moment. She rolls onto her back and looks up at me. "I wouldn't mind if you'd hold me."

My heart flutters, and I reach a hand up to stroke her hair. "I wouldn't either." I tuck her into my arms, both of us settling in.

She's quiet for a long while, but her breathing is erratic, so I know she's awake. "I never even saw it," she whispers.

"Who?"

"The baby. They did an ultrasound when I found out, and I couldn't look. My own child, and I couldn't bring myself to look at it. But I heard the heartbeat, and then… I didn't."

The tone in her voice is dark, and I recognize it as something I've heard in my own voice before. Self-loathing. I hold her a little tighter. "I thought you wanted children?"

She shakes her head. "Not like this. Not…" She trails off, and I'm not sure if she's going to keep talking, but then she finishes her thought in a whisper. "Not with him."

Having her wrapped up in my arms is the only thing keeping my blood from boiling as he returns to mind. "He will never hurt you again," I say resolutely.

She doesn't answer, but she reaches up and squeezes my hand, leaving hers there. This situation couldn't be farther from perfect, and yet I can't remember the last time I felt so warm and comfortable. I pay attention to the rise and fall of her chest with every moment we lay there, and sleep finds her eventually, her breathing evening out. As I try to think of reasons to stay a bit longer, it finds me too.

A/N: I just wanted to say that my heart goes out to any readers who have experienced miscarriage, infertility, or the loss of a child in any way. I hope you had someone to lay with you in your time of need, too.