Monday, February 13, 2012. 8:30 P.M.

Wilke's mind was somehow both reeling and blank. He'd sat at that picnic table this morning for ten whole minutes, just staring at the photo Daphne had left in front of him. It was incomprehensible, to him at least, how in the hell he had gotten her pregnant. They'd only hooked up twice, and he knew better than to have unprotected sex; for all his faults, he was no fool.

But why would Daphne lie? He had no reason not to trust her, since for all the time he's known her she's been nothing but a good, decent person. Better than him, for sure. And he was fairly certain she didn't have his reputation, jumping from partner to partner often enough. There was the drummer, though. Emmett. He's the one who had come to pick her up that first night, parked down the street from her old house. He'd caught enough sidelong glances between the two of them to know there was some sort of crush there. But he also knew the drummer was now dating Bay Kennish, could have been months ago, but he didn't pay enough attention. There was Liam, Bay's ex, too. Except he had started dating Carly Jackson before homecoming. So really, there was just Wilke. Wilke and his own impulsivity and his stupid crush on his best friend's sister and his inability to keep it in his pants.

Oh, God. He didn't know what to do. He shouldn't have said what he did this morning, that's for certain. Fishing his cell phone out of his pocket, he debated sending her a text message, but ended up just staring at her number in his contacts. What good would it do? Christ, his parents were going to kill him. Hers, too, when John Kennish finds out. Toby would probably beat his ass, bad.

Then there was a baby at the end of this. She had said she'd tried to end it, but it had been too late. What she hadn't said was if she was going to keep it or not. Would she? Would he? If she didn't give the baby up for adoption, he was pretty sure his parents would disown him, so it's not like he could take care of a child. He didn't even have a job, just a bad poker habit. The Kennishes weren't as heartless as his dad, though. He couldn't imagine them kicking Daphne onto the streets, especially with her mom in the hospital. Plus, they'd just gotten to meet her after sixteen years apart, no way they would turn their backs on her now. If she gives it away though, he might not even need to tell his father. He could just hope that he never finds out. Daphne did say she didn't expect him to be involved. There was no reason that he had to be involved. This was his last semester of high school, and maybe his grades left some things to be desired, but he could still get into a pretty decent college. His dad had made him apply to Duke, his alma mater, thinking his legacy could give Wilke a leg up, but he'd applied to UMKC and some other state schools for backup. There was still a life for him out there, but would there be if he had a baby? Would there be a life for Daphne? Probably not.

He wasn't that kind of man. Well, he doesn't think he's that kind of man: the kind to leave his almost-girlfriend pregnant and alone while he got to continue on as if nothing had happened. Even if the two of them don't end up raising this baby, it's not something they can just brush under the rug and forget about.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012.

Daphne was sat next to her mother's hospital bed, as usual, when her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. A single text message from Wilke:

Can we talk?

She doesn't want to, and she doubts he can do anything helpful at the moment, but this is his mess as much as hers.

Okay.

They meet outside the hospital twenty minutes later, and find themselves sat on yet another bench. Daphne hasn't said a word, just sat and stared. Wilke is staring down as his lap, picking at his thumbnail like it's the most interesting thing in the world, until he finally looks at her and moves his closed fist over his chest in a circle. Daphne sucks her tongue against her teeth and nods, before responding with a quick flick of her hand away from her chin.

"You, uh- You're going to give it up for adoption, right?"

"I don't see what other choice there is," Daphne watched him as he nodded slowly. "Who taught you the sign?"

"Googled it the other night, thought it might put me on your good side again."

"It was a pretty good idea," she can feel the corner of her mouth lifting into a smirk, and she really can't recall the last time she smiled or laughed recently.

"Have you told your parents?"

"No, I haven't told any one except you, and Emmett. Well, Bay found out a few days ago when she saw the ultrasound photo, but I've sworn her to secrecy. And John and Kathryn, I know they're biologically my parents, but it doesn't feel that way. Doesn't really feel like I have any family around, with my mom being here," Daphne jerked her thumb back over her shoulder to gesture at the hospital. "My grandma, after my dad showed back up and we found out my mom had known about the switch for years, she hasn't been around much. Have you told yours?"

"Nah," Wilke shakes his head, blonde fringe falling over his forehead in the cool breeze. "My dad... he'll probably kill me when he finds out."

"What's he like? You've never talked about him."

"He's... strict, I guess. Not the kind of dad that would coach your little league team, or whatever. He actually wants to send me to military school, since my grades aren't exactly college-ready."

Daphne mirrors his earlier action, circling her fist over her chest.

"I'm going to have to tell them soon, I think. Even if I'm not going to keep it, it's getting noticeable. I can't hide it for much longer. Do you-" she sucked in a deep breath, "When I tell them, you know they're going to ask who the father is... Do you really want to be involved in this?"

Wilke shrugged, "I have to be, right? The whole thing is kinda my fault, anyways. I'm the one who corrupted you with alcohol."

She laughs, "You're the one who opened a condom with his teeth!"

Wilke cringes and rubs his hands over his face.

"Yeah... Sorry. When are you going to do it? Tell them, I mean."

"I don't know. We used to have Friday night dinners, all of us together, before the accident. I'm sure they'll be more than happy to do it again this weekend, until I drop a bomb on them."

"Yeah, but J and K, they're pretty cool. I don't think they're going to flip out on you. If it was Toby, or Bay, it would be a Category Five meltdown, but you're the prodigal daughter."

"Not for long."

Friday, February 17, 2012. 6:00 P.M.

Friday rolls along, and the two teens worked out a plan for the night. Daphne had been hanging around the main house since school let out, and she had to admit that it felt good to socialize after so long wallowing in her own despair. Wilke showed up about half an hour ago, under the impression that he was there to visit Toby, and Kathryn, ever the host, had insisted that he have dinner.

Daphne had alerted Bay of her plan earlier in the day, leaving out the Wilke of it all, and suddenly they were all seated around Kathryn's expansive dining table, platters of meat and veggies being passed around.

"Wilke, it is so nice that you could stay for dinner tonight, the kids never bring their friends by anymore!" Kathryn chirped across the table at him while passing over a bowl of carrots.

"Yeah, it seems like we never hear any stories of you guys' shenanigans at school much, lately," John chipped in.

Wilke cleared his throat and shot the smallest of glimpses towards Daphne, "Well, you know, senior year, just trying to keep my head down and make it out with some decent grades for college. No more funny business, right?"

John and Kathryn chuckled, and Daphne could only feel her guilt gnawing away at what she was going to do by the end of the meal.

Fifteen minutes passed by, filled with small talk and chit-chat, until the teens, minus Toby, were starting to get anxious, shooting each other nervous glances when the adults weren't looking. Daphne took one deep breath in. She could do this. It would be okay.

"Uh, Kathryn, John," she paused while she made eye contact with the two, hoping somehow her face looked solemn and serious instead of panicked and petrified, "I have to tell you something."

"What's up, sweetie?" John flicked his hands up from his chest to sign simultaneously.

"Don't be angry with me, please."

"Angry?" John's eyebrows rose in disbelief.

Kathryn put her hand on his arm and leaned closer over the table.

"Daphne, honey, why would we be angry with you? You haven't committed a crime, have you? Or been expelled from school?" her mother had her brow furrowed, concern etched across her face.

John had his eyes wide and forehead raised, waiting.

"No, it's not that. Not school, and there's no crime but. . ." Daphne started to tear up, and bit her bottom lip to keep it together. Wilke, Toby, and Bay were watching her with bated breath. "I-I'm. . . I'm pregnant," she whispered the last word, she hoped so quietly that they hadn't even heard it.

"What did you just say?" John asked, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Pregnant?" Kathryn gasped. "Daphne, are you pregnant?"

The redhead nodded, suddenly feeling reduced to a little girl.

"Yes," she sobbed, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen, it was so stupid, please don't make me leave! I'm sorry, I'm sorry. . . " she trailed off, sobs taking control of her body, and Wilke had to resist the urge to grab her hand across the table.

"Oh, my god!" Kathryn covered her mouth with her hand, shocked.

Although Daphne had her head buried in her hands, and was oblivious to the conversation continuing around her, Wilke and Toby were tuned in. John stood from his seat at the head of the table and tossed his napkin on top of his plate, then turned and started pacing the three feet behind his chair.

"Pregnant? How in the hell did this happen?"

"Well, Dad, I think we all know how it happened," Toby quipped. John whipped his head around and pointed a stern finger at his son.

"Enough. Someone needs to tell me, right now, how this happened!"

"John," Kathryn stopped him, "sit down. Daphne?"

Daphne felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up at her bio-parents.

"Who's the father?" John asked lowly. "Which little punk kid and I going to have to go see after this, hmm? Liam? Or- or, God forbid, Travis?"

Daphne looked rapidly around the table, her eyes only landing on Wilke for a millisecond.

"I-"

"I am, sir."

John and Kathryn's heads snapped over to him, shock still and frozen.

"You?"

"Yes, me, Mr. Kennish."

"You got my daughter pregnant, and you have the nerve to sit here, at my table, eating my food, lying to my face? How dare you-"

"You had sex with my sister!" Toby's face had contorted into disgust, and he had leveled his gaze on Wilke. "Dude, what the hell?"

Bay had turned her attention on Daphne, mouth gaping open.

"You and Wilke?"

Oh, my god. Daphne was sinking down in her chair, absolutely mortified at the situation she had caused.

"Mr. Kennish, Mrs. Kennish, this is my fault," Wilke finally spoke up, his face turning whiter than a sheet. "But Daphne has been smarter than you think. She's made a lot of hard decisions about this, and if you could just hear us out-"

"No," John spoke. "No, I'm sorry, but I won't listen to this."

He stood and walked out of the room, through the kitchen, and right out the back door. Daphne watched his car headlights illuminate and then reverse down the driveway, into the street and out of her sight.

"Did he just walk out on us?" Toby had his eyes wide.

"You two, upstairs, now."

Kathryn had shaken out of her stupor and now pointed one slender finger towards the stairs. Bay and Toby quickly stood from the table and raced up the staircase.

"And you two..." Kathryn exhaled a deep breath and looked towards Daphne. "You're really pregnant?"

The younger redhead nodded and sniffled, trying to stifle her tears.

"When did you find out?"

"A while ago," Daphne murmured. "I tried to get rid of it, but it's too late."

"Too late? Good Lord. How far along did they say you were?"

"Seventeen weeks."

"Seventeen... Okay," the older woman visibly gulped, trying to remain calm. "I know the two of you are smart, so have you come to a decision?"

"We, well, Daphne, she's going to give it up for adoption," Wilke was sat ramrod straight, still trying to appear confident even after incurring John's ire.

"Okay. Right. That's probably for the best. I'll, um, I'll find you a doctor on Monday, and we can research different adoption agencies," Kathryn's eyes landed on Wilke. "And you, I know your father, and the fact that you're sitting here tells me he doesn't know about this, does he?"

"No, ma'am."

Kathryn hummed.

"Word will get back to him, you know, and sooner rather than later. This isn't the kind of thing that stays secret for long."

The next few minutes passed in a blur for Daphne, and after Kathryn had sent Wilke home and returned to her seat at the table, she retrieved the crumpled ultrasound photo from her pocket and smoothed it out on the table.

"I don't want to do this," she managed to choke out before another sob cut her off. "I don't want to have a baby, and I don't want to do this without my mom!"

Daphne curled back in on herself, sobbing with her head in her hands, until Kathryn's arms snaked around her shoulders and cradled her to her chest. She could feel the vibration of her vocal chords, most likely soothing platitudes and oh, honey's. After she had no tears left, she wandered off to Bay's room, where she would be spending the night, leaving the matriarch of the family sat at the table alone. Kathryn let out a shaky breath and reached for the photo left on the polished wood, holding the edges of the page like it was made of glass.

None of this made any sense to her, and she had no clue how she had remained so composed throughout the night. For her daughter, her biological daughter, lost to her for so many years, to be pregnant? And after she'd only had a few short months to get to know her, the real her, who wasn't so burdened by disaster. There was no indication that Daphne was the type, she thought, to be so reckless. Sweet, smart Daphne, who still wore barrettes in her hair, who was a vegetarian, for chrissakes! And Wilke, god, she had no clue how that had even happened. She'd known that boy nearly his whole life, and he was the definition of "flying by the seat of his pants." She just couldn't reconcile the image of her barely sixteen-year-old girl and her son's eighteen-year-old test-stealing poker-playing best friend having interest in each other, much less having a child together. Or, she supposes, going through a pregnancy together.

She stares down at the type print in bold white: 07/24/2012. The approximate due date. Five months away, and those five months were going to be torture for poor Daphne. Kathryn couldn't imagine the despair she must be feeling, to be handling this on her own while her mother (and she knows that yes, she is Daphne's mother, but she can't hold a candle to Regina) is comatose in the hospital. Even if the doctors' have giver her a good prognosis, the progress she's making is miniscule. The best, or maybe the most horrific, situation she can imagine is Regina waking up to see her teenage daughter heavily pregnant. The darker part of her mind tells her they could be waiting another year for her to wake, and would Daphne have to recount the story of her entire pregnancy? Would they pretend it didn't happen?

The ultrasound print stares back at her. She thinks of her scans back in 1996, and it seems the technology hasn't improved much; the baby looks less like a baby and more like a badly defined gray lump. Even during the later weeks, she never could quite decipher what was heads and what was tails.

God, she hated that they had to make these decisions, even if the decision was partially made for them. For all the things she loved about Kansas, the strict reproductive laws weren't one. With hands that felt like lead bricks, she pulled out her cellphone and dialed her husband's phone number. Voicemail, of course.

"John, you need to get it together, and get back home, now."

Daphne and Bay sat curled up on the latter's bed, the room dark except for the lamp in the corner of her room.

"Do you think your dad will come back tonight?" Daphne asked.

Bay shrugged in response, "I don't know, but he will definitely come back at some point. He might talk a big game, but he is still a good dad, he's not going to like, leave us or anything." She picked at the seam on her pajama shorts before looking back up, "So, what was it like, doing it with Wilke?"

"Oh my god," Daphne laughed and rolled her eyes. "I don't know, it was just regular, I guess, I was kinda drunk. It definitely didn't feel life-changing any of the times."

"Regular? So what, you've like, done it before?"

"Yes, well, not with only him, but yeah."

"Not with Emmett, right?"

"No, not with Emmett, for the last time," Daphne rolled her eyes. "I mean, we were in the backseat of his car, it wasn't some kind of crazy romantic moment. It just. . . happened, and now I have the evidence under my shirt."

"Yeah, that part totally sucks. So, are you really going to give the baby up for adoption?"

"Are you serious? There's no way I could have a baby right now. I think just being pregnant is going to traumatize me enough. Especially without my mom here. I don't know if it's worse for her to wake up soon, and have to see me like this, or later, and for me to have to explain what happened."

"The doctor says she's getting better," Bay sighed. "She could wake up really soon."

"I hope so," Daphne sniffled, feeling another wave of tears coming on, "I really don't think I can get through this without her."