AN: First of all, I would like to warn anyone who reads this that this will not be a happy fic. It's going to deal with mental health issues and it's going to get kind of dark. It does have a happy ending, no one dies, everyone gets better...but it goes through a pretty grim place to get there. I'd suggest erring on the side of caution if that kind of stuff triggers you.


Alex fidgeted in her chair. Not because it was uncomfortable...though it was. Not because the baby was pressing against her ribs...though it was.

It was because of her therapist's expectant stare.

It had been exactly eight and a half minutes since either of them had spoken. Alex knew because she'd been watching them tick by and wishing they'd move just a little faster.

In spite of herself, Alex blurted out, "Your clock is two minutes and seventeen seconds slow..."

Her therapist – Dr. Tara Lewis – asked, "Alex, is there a reason you're avoiding the question?" She raised a curious brow, flicking her pen back and forth.

"What was the question again?" Alex asked meekly. She'd been so caught up in timing the slow clock that she'd forgotten.

"I asked why you think it is you're not excited about your twenty week ultrasound..." Tara repeated herself.

A beat.

"Oh..." She heaved a sigh, remembering why she'd been avoiding the question in the first place. Unfortunately for her, though, she'd more or less run out of excuses. "I suppose...it's because I'm afraid of what the doctor will tell me," she confessed.

Tara nodded. "And why is that?"

"Because of Ethan," she said softly.

Tara nodded, wrote a note in her ledger. "Ethan's condition wasn't apparent on ultrasound?" she asked. When Alex nodded, she continued, "What makes you think this baby will have Ethan's condition – or, indeed, any condition?"

Alex began gnawing at her cheek until she tasted blood, reticent to say. But she knew that, ultimately, she needed to be honest... "Because I don't deserve a healthy baby."

Tara began writing furiously. After a moment, without looking up, she said, "What happened to Ethan is not your fault and the universe – or whatever you might believe – doesn't dole out cosmic feedback like that."

"It was my fault, though," Alex insisted, "I carried the defective gene. It's my fault he died."

Nodding, Tara suggested, "My advice is that you discuss this with Emily. And together, you should discuss amniocentesis."


"I'm upstairs!" Emily hollered when she heard the front door open and close. But before Alex could come to her, Emily appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing her painting clothes. At Alex's quizzical look, she teased, "I figured it was faster to come to you..."

Alex smiled softly for the first time that day.

Coming down the stairs, Emily met her in the foyer, stole a kiss. "How was your session?"

She'd kind of been hoping Emily wouldn't ask, even if she knew it was inevitable. "It was good," she said, a half-truth.

Emily smiled encouragingly. "It's helping?"

Alex nodded. Another half-truth. "She, umm... She suggested we talk about doing amnio," she stammered.

"I think we should do it," Emily immediately agreed.

Her brows leapt up her forehead. "Really?"

Emily nodded. "If it will give you some peace of mind, I think it's worth the risk." Alex seemed a little surprised by her sudden agreement. "Al, I know this is a huge part of what's been troubling you about this pregnancy and if this is going to help, I say we do it. I'd do anything to make this easier on you; if I could go back in time and wave a magic wand to undo my uterine scarring, I'd carry the baby for you."

Smiling fondly, Alex kissed her again. "It's things like this that make me fall for you all over again."