Warning(s): mentions of abuse and violence, abortion, and medical procedures.
Friday 13th June, 1986. Part Two--Christine.
By definition, an irrational fear is illustrated as an "extreme, unwarranted fear linked to a specific object or event."
For Christine, that 'unwarranted fear' came in the form of a white jacket, stethoscope, and one intrusive individual that strived to attain a person's most confidential details.
Of course, she knew that a doctor was just there to help with whatever personal plight a person might have, but she was still terrified to make any visit. Whether she had to see a primary care doctor, a nurse, gynecologist, or even a phlebotomist when blood testing was vital to her as a teenager, Christine was deathly afraid of making any visits to a doctor's office or hospital.
She wasn't entirely sure whether her fear had always prevailed, but she was certain that it worsened when she was thirteen years old.
On March 19th, 1976, the day after her mother's fortieth birthday, Christine was sent to the school nurse--who would later refer her to a pediatrician at the hospital--with symptoms that perfectly echoed those of a person suffering from a concussion.
She knew, just as well as the CPS officer questioning her parents, that the concussion was not a result of 'accidentally' hitting her head at some point throughout the morning at school. No, Christine was more than aware that the inconsolable ache thumping away at her skull was most certainly a byproduct of the fall she had endured the night before at the hands of her father's abusive tendencies.
Though the specific details were slightly foggy, one thing was certain to her; it was a motivated attack. Her mother was stoned, struggling to keep her eyes open while her sisters got on with whatever it was that they were doing, and she was giving the signature Christine attitude to her father when she began to talk back to him.
Instantly, she recognized that was a fucking mistake.
She was a smart kid in the sense that she knew not to give her parents shit, and her father was smart in the sense that he knew not to leave a mark. However, the handful of times that he did, in fact, leave a mark, he really did leave a fucking mark.
As expected, Chris was suffering from a mild concussion and, naturally, an investigation into the circumstances surrounding her 'mysterious' fall was conducted--obviously, drawing a blank as to how she managed to damage her head the way that she did by simply falling.
That trauma followed her through everything. And despite it not being the fault of a doctor, the intrusive questioning that followed the incident was enough to scar her for life. Literally.
Briefly, she remembered telling Nikki about that incident, and just hoped that he would be willing to take her to appointments after learning about her emotional pain. And although he didn't personally understand how that pertained to her anxiety, he didn't question it. He recognized that it was tough for her, and that was enough for him to want to be right there by her side each and every single time that she needed him.
Christine never went into too much detail about the excruciating events of her childhood, but he truly discerned the anguish and suffering that she had to withstand as a kid. He knew that it was painful to relive some occasions--no matter how well she managed to seem unconcerned--so he never asked any questions.
And because of this desire that Nikki had to care for his wife, Christine recognized that she really did need him with her at her gynecologist appointment. Even if he was just there to offer some moral support before retreating back to the car while she was in there...she needed him.
It's only routine. It is only a routine checkup, she continued to tell herself.
It'll all be okay.
It will be fine.
All fine.
Absolutely fine.
"Christine," Dana knitted both eyebrows together, watching the brunette zone out while tears rolled to the apples of her blushed cheeks.
It felt as though the world had stopped spinning.
"Christine," she repeated herself. "Honey, did you hear what I said?"
Her heart throbbed within the restraints of her rib cage at the most excruciating pace, almost physically harming her as it did so.
She was certain that Dana was able to hear the violent thumping against her chest.
"Can you--can you say it again, please?"
Heeding her panic, Dana carefully slid the tiny page across to her, stifling a sigh.
"You are ten weeks pregnant, Christine."
Swallowing a deep, deep breath, fidgeting uncomfortably, Chris stared at her. "Oh," being the only thing she could muster up.
"'Oh' indeed," Dana's empathetic gaze persisted, urging her to pick the ultrasound up from the glass table. "You sound shocked."
"I am," Christine replied without hesitation, letting her thumb trace over the little black and white clump of cells in the picture between her fingers. "I didn't think for a second that I was pregnant."
"Well, you had every textbook pregnancy symptom. The absence of periods, nausea, cramps, aches in your lower abdomen."
"But only this last week or so."
"A symptom is a symptom."
"I know," her head bobbed in agreement, finally averting all focus and meeting Dana's line of sight, "but I just assumed I was like this because I was stressed out after moving to a brand new city, having to make new friends, having to adapt to a brand new environment. I didn't think that I had a tiny human being growing inside of my uterus."
"I see," Dana added, focusing her attention to the stack of papers before her, "I'm sorry that you've got so much going on right now. Do you know whether a little one is what you want right now?"
Saturated hues glared down to the ultrasound that read "Christine Alexandra Hill" instead of "Christine Alexandra Sixx," and she just concluded that if she wasn't willing to use something as minor as his last name, then she certainly wasn't willing to carry and eventually raise his child.
While Dana awaited a response, Chris felt her brain whir around each and every option that she had upon finding out that she was with child.
And it didn't take a lot to realize that, after quickly doing the math, Nikki was definitely the one that had impregnated her. Though she was almost certain, those few moments of silence where she recollected her thoughts made it blatantly obvious to her that she was having his baby.
No matter how hard she forced herself to think about the predicament that she had found herself in, she couldn't seem to deduce an appropriate means of spilling her guts to that man. She had walked out of his life, made a point of writing a letter that told him her plans to never return, and confessed her most blatant dishonesty to anyone that would listen--knowing that each specific detail would get back to him.
How the fuck am I going to walk back into his life after five, almost six, whole weeks and announce that I'm pregnant with the child that neither one of us want?
Even though Nikki made it clear to her--one time--that he wanted to start a family with her, Christine was confident that, under those circumstances, he would not want to know. And she couldn't blame him if he decided to react that way.
She didn't want to waltz back into his world with a child, or even at all. Knowing what her leaving probably did to him, Christine came to the painful conclusion that she couldn't do it.
The original "if I ever get pregnant" plan that she conjured up during her first-ever pregnancy scare was suddenly her only option.
God. I really hope Nikki never finds out about this.
"I can't have this baby," with a tinge of shame to her words, Christine admitted.
"May I ask why?"
Without hesitating, she nodded. "I'm just not in the best place right now."
"Physically or mentally?" she glared at Dana, but knew that she was only doing her job. She was only making sure that Chris was considering her options, and she was very appreciative of that.
"Both."
"Oh, okay," the pair shared a chuckle while the brunette wiped at her eye with the sleeve of the leather jacket wrapped around frail arms, "what about the father? Do we know who he is?"
"We do," pearly whites sank into chapped lips, before a deep sigh spewed from the very depths of her chest, "and that is why I definitely can't have this baby."
"I understand, sweetheart. And I'm not going to sit here and try to convince you to have this child because I truly don't know what's going on in your life right now, but I'll just try my best to provide you with every option, okay?"
"Okay, thank you," she told her, gratefully.
"You're welcome, Christine. I'm just here to make sure that you're about to make whatever decision is best for you."
Despite making it clear that she would be of assistance with whatever road Chris chose to take, it was obvious that Dana was silently protesting against the idea cemented into the misery-clad mind of the woman before her.
And if the uneasy tone that she decided to take while talking didn't make it apparent enough, the way her face read disappointment was spelling it out rather overtly.
"How do I go about doing this?"
She quirked a brow, "pardon?"
"Getting an abortion?" The word barely rolled off of her tongue, bile rising from the back of her throat just at the thought of it. "How would I go about getting one?"
Dana stared at her like she was going completely mad.
"An abortion?" Slowly, she asked.
"Yes. I already said I can't have this kid--so how do I get rid of it?"
"Is this really what you want--"
"--Yes," she repeated herself. "You told me that you were here to make sure I was making the decision that was right for me--and this is it. If I have this baby, I will be forced to reconnect with its father and I would rather die a slow, agonizing death than have to turn up at his door and announce that I am currently pregnant with the baby that neither one of us want--or should even be allowed to have."
"Christine..."
"I am sorry, but this child would be set up to fail with me as it's mother. I'm doing the thing a favor by terminating this pregnancy."
"Okay," she cleared her throat, taking her glasses off. "If this is what you want, then I can get in touch with a doctor who will then talk to you about what the procedures will entail, and then you will go from there."
Her heart plummeted to the absolute depths of her chest. Procedures? Multiple?
"And you can't talk me through them?"
"I can, if you'd like me to?" She smiled, trying to comfort her sudden rigid state, "I'm not the one who controls what happens, but I can talk to you about what can be done."
"Please," immediately, Christine shot back.
"Alright, honey. And, outright, I just want you to know that this is not something that you need to be scared, or ashamed, of. So many young women terminate pregnancies, it's a lot more common than what you'd think, you know?"
"Really?" She nodded, "I had no idea. I don't think I know anybody who has ever had an abortion before."
"You do. Definitely. Women aren't usually too vocal with such experiences, mainly because of the pressure put on them by society to be mothers. Typically, they're scrutinized by family, peers, the media and are just expected to bear children because that is what their mothers did--and convinced them that they were happy with that. Getting an abortion is not the taboo subject that it is often portrayed to be, and it is very normal. Especially amongst girls your age."
"But everyone is against it. Or, at least, everyone that I know is."
"I understand that you might feel that way, but people are supportive, Christine. Anti-abortion culture is rife in this day and age, but I can assure you that there are definitely other women that will see this as an incredible act of bravery, because this isn't easy."
"And this is confidential?" Dana, without reluctance, nodded.
"Absolutely. And even if I was not legally required to leave this information in this room, I wouldn't dare tell anybody. I understand that this is difficult, and I wouldn't want to jeopardize anything for you by telling somebody."
She appreciated that. She appreciated it because she was fucking terrified of her sister finding out, given that she was the family-oriented perfect one, and would undoubtedly look down upon Christine had she gotten wind of her plight.
"Thank you. So much."
"You are more than welcome, honey," Dana's smile was starting to comfort her in more ways than one, appreciating that woman taking the time to talk so candidly about such a daunting topic.
Truly, Christine didn't know anybody that she would have been able to confide in, so to have this woman offering her the most sound advice and support meant the absolute world to her.
"Is it going to hurt?" She spoke up, an audible lump rooted at the very back of her throat.
"It shouldn't," Chris nodded, "but if it does, it won't be as bad as what you may think. The doctor will talk you through the procedure beforehand, just to make sure that it is definitely what you want, and then you'll be taken in."
"Okay," slowly, she responded. "And this is just a simple procedure? Will it take long? And what about healing?"
She was absolutely certain that an abortion was what she wanted, but there was no denying that the prospect of having a fetus removed from her body was the most terrifying thought she had ever entertained.
I am doing this for me. And for this baby. And, though he mightn't think of it that way, I am doing this for Nikki, too.
"Yes, it's a simple procedure and will take, at most, forty minutes," Christine's eyes widened, "but in most cases, twenty-minutes and about an hour to recoup usually does the trick."
"Oh, it's just a one-day thing? I'll be able to go home?"
"Of course. You won't be asked to stay any longer than you need to."
Suddenly, her eyes lit up--recognizing that she would be able to undergo the procedure without anybody knowing.
"But, I would recommend bringing somebody along to your appointment."
"I can't just attend by myself?" Her words laced with panic.
"You can attend by yourself, of course. But you will feel a great sense of discomfort afterward, and driving mightn't be the wisest idea."
"Oh," once again, the only word she could muster.
Dana excused herself from the desk for a few moments--to make a call to the doctor she would be referred to--while Christine was left with her many, many feelings.
My mother would be spinning in her grave at the sheer thought of this fucking mess that I've gotten myself into.
God, imagine what Liane would say if she found out about me being pregnant this whole time--oh my God...this baby is probably already so, so fucked up. I've been drinking, and using, and doing way too much.
Maybe this is why I've been so inconsolably horny--my hormones have been out of whack for weeks.
I think I'm going to fucking puke.
Tears tumbled over naked lashes, surging down flushed skin, rapidly hitting the lace neckline of Christine's black dress.
Black. An appropriate color for the mourning of a life that could have been.
She didn't want children. Ever. But it was the thought of aborting Nikki's baby--and what that might have done to him--that was maiming her.
I'm fucking evil, aren't I?
What wife purposely kills her husband's baby simply because she is too much of a coward to face him?
The clicking of kitten heels across vinyl flooring forced her eyes to flick up to meet Dana standing in the doorway, a reluctant smile playing at her lips.
"Monday?"
"Monday," Christine, with a sigh, repeated back to her.
Jesus fucking Christ.
She remained frozen in that exact spot for what felt like hours before she amassed enough energy to peel herself away. And then, when she did, she was making a beeline straight for Anthony's car that he let her borrow while he was working on his backyard.
Though she craved the immediate release when faced with the fresh air, Christine felt her stomach churn as everything was starting to hit her.
Whether the sweat pelting from her forehead came as a result of the blistering heat of the June afternoon, or the sheer nervousness at the thought of having to meet with the doctor that would carry out her abortion in three days, Christine was wholly certain that keeping her mouth shut about her plight was going to be unbearable.
If she told somebody, she would be heavily judged about not only her final decision but her circumstances, too.
But if she kept quiet then she knew that it would've ended up eating away at her. She had always been the same.
Regardless of the internal battle with herself--that she was somehow losing--she carefully slid into the driver's side and pulled out the bottle of water from her purse that had been stuffed in there during the moments leading up to finding out about her pregnancy.
Plump lips wrapped around the plastic lip of that same lukewarm bottle of water as Chris chugged the liquid as though her life depended on it, feeling it trickle down her chin and to the fabric of her dress.
She frowned, noticing the droplets resting atop her stomach. The stomach that, up until thirty minutes ago, she didn't notice was beginning to swell.
Frail fingers traced the tiny bump while she bit back her tears, wondering why she wasn't showing as much as Beth was when she fell pregnant with Elle. She just pinned it down to the fact that she was a lot more petite--thanks to heroin--and gaining any form of weight was just impossible at that stage.
"I'm so, so sorry," she spoke in a mere whisper, her words barely moving past her lips. "You don't deserve this, but you also don't deserve a mom like me. Or, a dad like--" her throat hitched at the thought of reciting his name, "like Nikki."
It hurt a lot more than she thought it would, coming to terms with that.
"Maybe if your daddy and I were with another, and we were happy--and clean--things would be different...but we aren't happy, and he probably doesn't give a damn about me anymore, baby."
Why the fuck am I doing this?
"I am so, so sorry," she repeated herself through tears, turning the keys in the ignition. Her fingers were still pressed against her abdomen.
I just have to keep telling myself that this is for the best.
"And I know that I said I never wanted kids, but I do love you, knowing that you're in there," through tears, she giggled softly to herself. "I love you a lot, and that's why I'm doing this for you, angel."
Why did I say that? Nikki called me that...
Called. Past tense. Because he'll never call me that again.
Thirty five minutes after leaving the parking lot of that dreaded doctor's office, and a long grueling drive through the bustling side streets in Downtown Vancouver, Christine found herself located at her most favorite spot.
Cassandra's. Aka the quaint bar that hosted her new favorite redhead.
"Hey, Miss California!" Nicole yelled from the other side of the bar, watching Chris stroll in. The closer she got, the more it became apparent that she wasn't doing brilliantly.
"Hey, Nic," she smiled weakly, propping herself up on one of the bar stools.
Her left hand clutched her stomach on instinct.
The brunette seemed tense. More so than usual, anyway. And she wasn't hosting that warm, though considerably inebriated, smile that Nic was used to bearing witness to whenever she wandered into the bar.
Of course, she wanted to ask what was eating at her from the moment she stepped in, but she knew her place. The pair weren't completely friends--yet--and she didn't want to scare Christine away by bombarding her with questions.
Coming on too strong was always Nicole's most fatal flaw.
"Can I interest you in one of these?" She pointed to the menu behind the bar, her finger landing against the chipped drawing of a strawberry daiquiri atop the chalkboard--Chris' favorite.
Should I...No, I won't.
"I'm gonna have to pass, but thank you anyways."
Nicole gasped. "You're turning away some alcohol?! Who the hell are you, and what have you done with Chrissie?!"
"I'm driving," she tried to seem downcast--though, the news she had gotten that very day did help with that.
"Oh, that sucks."
"Tell me about it."
Christine took her hand away from her bump, suddenly feeling very vulnerable, and rested both elbows atop the oak wood bar.
Despite not having the most in-depth conversation with her, Chris was very appreciative that Nicole took the time to talk to her when she noticed her downtrodden mood.
"Well if I can't interest you in a cocktail, then I will bet my life fucking savings that I will be able to interest him," Nicole's breaths grew slightly unstable while she spoke, leading Chris to roll her eyes.
Every single man that wandered through those doors seemed to spark something of interest within the redhead's brain, so she didn't feel compelled to even attempt to face the guy that strode in behind her.
"Fuck me. He is so..."
"Dreamy?" Chris mocked her fawning expression, taking comfort in the grin pulling at Nic's burgundy lips.
"That, he is," she confirmed, watching him trudge on over, "but he's also--"
"--Hey, can I just get a big fuck off bottle of Jack, please?"
She would recognize that deep, gravelly, Californian accent anywhere. She had listened to it chewing her ear off for the best part of five whole years.
"Of course you can," Nicole replied, too drawn in by his dazzling smile and kind eyes to even notice how Christine was paralyzed in her space.
"Thanks. And whatever she's having," he nodded toward Chris, completely unaware that the woman before him was that same one who had been plaguing his thoughts for weeks.
"Oh, she's not drinking. She's "driving,"" she mocked air quotes, rolling her eyes.
"That is LAME."
Chris jumped a little when his hand landed against her shoulder, her reflexes almost forcing her to elbow him straight in the balls as he stood behind her.
"It isn't lame," she spoke quietly while turning her head, allowing him to take a good look at her sallow complexion, his jaw dropping.
"It's responsible. Which is more than what can be said for you, Tommy."
"Chris--I--"
"--Chris?!" Nicole interjected, gawking at the pair, "you know one another?!"
Rendered speechless, Tommy continued to glare at his best friend's estranged wife like she was just a figment of his imagination.
He could not believe his eyes.
"Yeah. We know one another," awkwardly, she responded, her hues landing on his own as he continued to stare, "real well..."