“So what is it, what’s wrong?” I asked worriedly as Dr. Deaton ran the ultrasound instrument over my grapefruit-sized stomach. Derek had rushed me to the vet’s office the minute we’d realized the baby might be in danger, and now I could barely breathe for I was terrified that something awful had happened to my unborn child.
“I’m…I’m so sorry to tell you, but it looks like there is blood clotting around the uterus and I can’t seem to locate a pulse or a heartbeat for the baby,” he said gently, removing the scanner and patting me softly on the arm. “I’m really sorry.”
“W-what does that mean?” I cried, tears welling up in my eyes. From the moment Derek had woken me up in a panic, I’d known. I’d known that somehow, no matter how unfair it might be, my baby was…dead. But I needed to hear him say it.
“By no fault of your own, you had a delayed miscarriage. That means that the baby died while inside of you, but has not yet been removed. Since you were only twelve and a half weeks along, you will just experience heavier periods and cramping. Again, I’m so very sorry Christina.”
“Our baby’s dead?” I heard Derek whisper from beside me, but I didn’t even look at him.
“Okay, thank you Dr. Deaton. Sorry to trouble you,” I said rigidly, pulling my shirt down and sliding off the hospital bed that Derek had had installed in the back room of the veterinary. For whatever reason, I wasn’t sad at all, just…empty. Derek immediately wrapped his arm around me and pressed his lips onto my forehead, trying to comfort me even though it wasn’t necessary.
“Chris, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” he mumbled, resting his face in my hair as we walked to the black Camaro. I think he expected me to burst into tears, or at least hug him, but I didn’t. Instead I sat stonily beside him the whole way home, not saying a word or even moving a muscle. I couldn’t; it was like everything that I’d lived for, every reason I’d woken up in the morning and gotten out of bed was just swept away, right out from underneath me. When we walked through the front door, Erica and Isaac were there, clamoring to find out what the verdict was. I saw Derek shake his head once, solemnly, and then Erica just broke down. She flung herself into my arms, her whole body quaking violently with each sob.
“Oh my god, Chris, I’m so sorry! I just can’t imagine…I mean, the baby’s gone? W-why did this have to happen? Why? Haven’t we lost enough already?” Erica howled, clutching onto my shoulders for dear life. Slowly and carefully, I detached myself from her wet embrace and turned to climb the stairs routinely. I could feel everybody’s eyes following me, but I didn’t look back. Instead I walked into my room, closed the door, and locked it.
And then something in me just cracked.
“I HATE YOU!” I shrieked, rage bursting out of me in a fiery inferno of fury. I let out another gut-wrenching scream, and turned to punch the wall as hard as I could. My fist barely even dented the plaster, but the skin across my knuckles broke and blood began to drip down my wrist. Without giving it a second thought, I charged across the room and kicked the pearly white crib, channeling all my anger into that hit. It flew back into the wall and the wood began to splinter, shards spraying everywhere. I knelt down and bashed the crib into pieces with my bare hands, hitting the rails until they were nothing but wood chips underneath me. Then I smashed the base with fast, furious, unrelenting blows. My tightly balled up fists were now bloody and broken, with as many splinters as a cactus. But I didn’t stop until I felt somebody’s impossibly strong arms wrapping around my torso, pulling me away from the severely damaged shell of a crib. It was Derek of course, and my rage was no match for his supernatural strength. Finally I yielded, and just turned to wrap my arms around his neck and clutch onto him tightly. I didn’t even realize I’d been crying until he wiped the tears from my angry red cheeks, and then I began to sob. Painful, all-encompassing, wracking sobs that shook me to my core and made my heart physically ache. I felt like somebody had reached into my chest and violently ripped my insides out.
“Shh, Chris, shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you, I’m here, it’s okay, it’s all gonna be okay.” But I knew it wasn’t; nothing was ever going to be “okay” again. Because even though I’d only been a mother for a short period of time, I now knew what it felt like to lose a child. It was worse than dying; it was worse than losing a family member; it was even worse than killing someone, albeit in self-defense. It felt like I’d lost my soul, my very will to live. But then I looked up, and realized Derek was crying, too, and suddenly my whole outlook changed. I’d never seen Derek cry, not once, even when his sister had been murdered by his uncle Peter. But sure enough, his eyes were rimmed with red and tears were making tracks down his cheeks while he soothed me and stroked my hair. He was always being strong for me, and it wasn’t fair to him. I wasn’t the only one who’d lost someone – Derek had, too.
“I’m so sorry, Derek,” I whispered, sitting up to hug him properly. Derek buried his face in the crook of my neck, and we sat there, holding onto each other tightly for an immeasurable amount of time.
What must have been at least an hour later, Derek finally made me go into the bathroom so he could clean and bandage my hands. It was quite a mess, actually; he had to take the tweezers and pull every little splinter out of my ragged flesh before dousing my hand in hydrogen peroxide and then wrapping it in gauze. He repeated the process with the other hand, and then the two of us went to lay on our bed in silence. The numbness I’d experienced earlier was now gone, and my thoughts were all over the place. Thinking about my future, about our engagement, about college; wondering when my baby bump would disappear, when I could play basketball again, how I was going to tell Alice and Monica the news. But mostly I just sat, clinging onto Derek for dear life, the occasional tear rolling down my face. He was all I had left now, and that was what I was going to focus on. I loved Derek every bit as much as I’d loved my baby, and now I had a gaping hole to fill with that love. I can do this, I can keep going. I have to, for Derek’s sake. I have to.
*** *** ***
“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Derek asked me as I stood in the kitchen two days later, pouring coffee over the ice in my travel cup. I’d stayed home from school on Monday to recuperate, but then I’d realized I couldn’t just fall apart and miss more school; that wasn’t the solution. I had to keep moving, focus on getting my grades back up – that was what I did best, after all.
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll call you in between every class, and we can have lunch together over video chat, just like I agreed. I’ll be fine, Derek,” I assured him, swinging my messenger bag over my shoulder and readjusting my feet in the black espadrille wedges I was wearing with my blue floral dress. My long red hair was swept back into a smooth, straight ponytail and I’d done up my makeup simply but effectively. I was ready to take on whatever challenges school presented today. Derek came over to wrap his bulging arms around my smaller frame firmly, and I knew he didn’t want to separate from me either.
“Just be careful, okay?”
“I will, I promise. This is what I need, Derek.”
“Okay, I trust you. I’ll pick you up right at 3:45, since you won’t be playing basketball today, right?”
“No, I’m actually gonna go. I love basketball, and maybe the hard, physical exercise will help.”
“Okay, so I’ll be there around six. Just text me, okay?”
“Okay, I’ll see you later. Love you.”
“Love you too, Chris. Have fun at school,” Derek said somewhat resignedly, kissing me affectionately before I grabbed my keys and left. The ride to school was always one of my favorite alone-time opportunities; I blasted “The One That Got Away” by Katy Perry and sang along to every word. At some point, the tears that filled my eyes routinely now began to spill over, and I had to stop to fix my makeup before I went inside to Beacon Hills High School. I couldn’t help but relate everything back to my baby, and that’s when the waterworks would start. But not today. Today will be different. I will smile and tell people I’m okay, and I’ll mean it. And with determined footsteps, I marched into school to tackle the first day back without my baby boy or girl wriggling around in my uterus.
*** *** ***
Surprisingly, most of my day passed in a quiet and undisturbed manner; I got an extra credit assignment from Ms. Ramiro, my English teacher, so I could regain my A- average in her class. Psychology, Art, and English were all easy, and Derek and I enjoyed our cyber-lunch date together, talking about how I wanted to redecorate our room. I’d convinced him to allow me and Erica to watch Pretty Little Liars tonight while he and Isaac went out to scout the town for a potential werewolf. Derek had explained the whole ordeal to me, about needing to have three members to form a pack and everything.
“So now that Boyd’s dead, you need to turn someone else to replace him?” I asked, taking a bite of my BLT and chewing while I waited for Derek to answer. I was at an empty table in the corner of the lunchroom, video-chatting my fiancé while I ate like the antisocial loser I was at heart.
“Exactly. It was difficult to wait even this long, but I had to give everybody time to heal.”
“Yeah, that was good of you. So you got any ideas of who you’re gonna turn?”
“If I did, I would’ve done it by now. But there’s a shortage of qualified teens in town.”
“And what makes somebody ‘qualified’?” I smirked, my mind wandering to abused jocks or epileptic blondes. Or lonely skate rink employees…
“Courageous, good-hearted…not a werewolf hunter, ex-kanima, strangely immune girl, or the best friend of a werewolf,” Derek chuckled, easily referencing Allison, Jackson, Lydia and Stiles respectively. But the beginning part sparked something in the back of my mind.
“I’ve got an idea of who you could turn.”
“Who?”
“Alice.”
*************************************************************************
Hey readers, so I know you must be dissapointed slash hating me slash really upset. I'm so sorry, but if it makes you feel any better, I was always planning to have the baby miscarriage :( It just needed to happen, and you'll understand better later. But this was a sad chapter, and I cried while writing it! That thought of Chris's is slightly reminiscent of Elena Gilbert's diary entry in the pilot. I thought it seemed fitting. And what do you guys think of Alice being a werewolf? Would that work? Anyway, I hope you guys still enjoyed this chapter and I promise next chapter will be better! But i wont be updating for atleast two days (even though I know I said i would update every day/every other day now that its summer) because tonight i have a going away party for my friend who's moving to Paris and tomorrow im going to a birthday dinner for my best friend! So stay tuned guys and thanks for reading :) Hope you vote, and pleaseee comment telling me what you think of the miscarriage and stuff. Again, so sorry for killing the baby! :( Thanks! xoxoxo