Well, I finally get around to updating tonight. Perhaps I should update some of the other stories, and probably will, but in the meantime, enjoy a backstory. This installment gets a little gross and politically-fueled, but it's okay. I don't know if I got Ellen's POV quite correct (I support Fin's ideas), but I tried. (I'm going to get flamed by the females...)

Months passed with no addition to this story. But I think we all know where this is going. Unless you don't. Ok, I'll continue.

The only thing worth mentioning here is Ellen started becoming crankier than usual (which, to be completely honest, frightened the hell out of me). Along with it, though, her subdued moments seemed to be entirely depression-based. She started getting jumpy and nervous when she was in the room with Chazwick and me. Every time I'd ask her, though, she'd snap in my face and leave.

We knew something was up when she finally called us down roughly four months later. To be clear: Ellen hated us. She hated living with us, looking at us, talking to us. Well, apparently, it was only me she had the problem with.

"Ok. Here it goes." Right after she said it, however, she sealed her lips shut and refused to look at us.

"For the love of God, woman, talk!" Chaz said, lifting his beer as though to point at her. Ellen shot a dart from her eye and sat up straight again.

"Fine. Then I'll just come out with it instead of easing into it. I've been missing periods."

Well, I don't know about Chazwick, but I'd certainly heard more than I needed.


"Well, usually, when that happens, it means there's going to be a new roommate."

"Ellen, stop with the euphemisms," I said, "we both know you're having a baby by now, so spit it out."

Both Ellen and Chaz froze staring at me.

"How long have you known?" she asked, horrified.

I shrugged. "Ten seconds. But something had to stop the riddlespeak."

"Wait. You are?"

Chaz turned the blank eyes to Ellen. She blinked.

"Yeah. I am."

"You said usually! What if it isn't?"

Chaz was being a bit too hopeful. Which made me have to ask.

"It isn't your baby, is it, Chaz?"

"It isn't your business if I slept with Ellen!"

"Don't get defensive, Chaz, it's yours!" Ellen yelled.

"Bull! It isn't! It can't be!"

"Chaz! Listen to me! I don't go out every Friday night and shag the first man I meet! It. Is. Yours!"

Chaz kicked over the makeshift coffee table and stormed upstairs. Ellen watched him go with the most pathetic look on her face. My heart broke for her, but I didn't know what to do to fix it.


"I can't. I can't have a baby. I can't. I have school and a career to think about." She sank into the threadbare recliner, desperately trying to cry. "I never should've gone. If Roxie never had that party, none of this would've happened."

"Ellen, blaming this on Roxanna is a bit low, don't you think?" I was trying to sympathize, but it wasn't working out.

"If she hadn't had that party, I would have been back here studying instead of drunk off my ass at her place, then escorted ever-so-helpfully by Chazwick –" she called up the stairs, "and somehow giving consent for that bastard to knock me up!"

In psychology, they like to call this stage of grief the "anger" stage. Ellen went through shock and denial when she first found out, and is now on stage 2. Unfortunately, she was taking it out on me.

"No. I won't do it. If he won't, I won't." Ellen stood up and started pacing. "I'm not doing it. I'm getting it removed."

"No." I said. She shot a dart at me. I knew what she wanted and I wasn't about to stand for it.

"Don't you tell me what to do, Fin. It's my body."

"Actually, I think it belongs to that," I said, pointing at her midsection.

Her eye twitched. "Why don't we ask it what it wants, then? Oh, right, because it can't talk."

"It couldn't full-term or newly-born, either. Does that make it okay to kill it?"

It kept twitching. She was not in the mood for it. I was angering her and making her think at the same time.

"Seriously, though. You give birth, I kill it. I get sent to prison. You don't give birth, but still kill it, it's a woman's right. I don't understand the difference."

It finally stopped twitching. She had made a decision, I could tell. Her brown eyes narrowed at me.

"Fine. Fine. You win. But it's your problem, you hear me? You want it, not me and certainly not Chazwick. If you want it so damn bad, you take care of it."

I was going to eventually suggest putting it up for adoption. I think I somehow inadvertently adopted it.

"Yes?" Ellen said, her voice becoming dangerously high. I don't know what kind of look was on my face that she had to ask. "Then I guess I'll just have my way with it. No point in keeping something nobody wants."

"No!" I yelled getting to my feet. "What right do you have to punish it for your mistakes?"

"What right do you have to punish me for his?" she screamed back.

"Who's punishing you?" I yelled, throwing my hands in the air.

"You said you'd take care of it once it's born. What about before that? You don't have to be pregnant for the next six months," she said, poking me in the chest. "You didn't have to put up with vomiting at all hours. You don't have to outgrow all your clothes to make room for a whiny bag of skin. Your breasts won't be the ones sagging and swollen to match the feet. You won't have to worry about having the damn thing in the middle of exams! You aren't going to start looking like a mess! You won't get the stares, or the names, or the laughter from everyone you know!"

"Ellen." I tried to be calm. "If I could take that child and carry it for you, I would."

She scoffed. "Just like a man to say. Because no matter how many times you say that, you can't. How convenient."

Maybe I didn't really want to be pregnant. But if it involved saving the child… they still wouldn't listen. I wasn't her husband. Hell, I wasn't even the baby's father. Who would believe me when I said I cared for a baby that wasn't mine? And even if they did, so what? No one's opinion matters but the mother's. Which is why I had to sway her toward seeing it my way before the clinics opened in the A.M.

"Ellen. If your parents didn't want you, what would you think of them?"

"That they should've tried harder to prevent the mistakes."

"And you're exempt?"

"I'm trying to prevent mistakes."

"No, Ellen, you're trying to erase mistakes." Then I thought of something.

"Wait. You said you were going to carry it for six months." She nodded, obviously not seeing where this was going. "Normal gestation is nine. You've been pregnant for three months, at least." I noticed a bit of red tinge her face but she otherwise gave no indication she knew I had her trapped. "Why did you wait so long to decide on this? Why now, that you only have a few weeks left before you can't do it anymore? Why did you wait to tell Chaz and me before deciding you were going through with the abortion?"

She blinked twice. "I don't have to explain myself to you, Phineaus." And she turned on her heel, ran out the door and took out the beater for a drive. I watched her go and hoped she wasn't going to drink. I know she was stressed, but there was no reason anymore for her to hurt her baby.

Because it was hers.

Whether she liked it or not.

I touched a serious nerve with her there. She was nervous and scared. I think she was hoping for something to go beyond what she already had with Chaz.

I don't recall them talking since that night. I can't recall her ever liking him before that night, either. But it was clear she brought it up for one reason and one only.

She'd fallen in love and thought she had an anchor.

Now I don't know anything about love, sex or babies, but that type of stuff HAS to change a person somehow. I'm hoping I got it right. I didn't want to get rid of the baby (even though I was capable through modding). This is going somewhere special with the baby, so if anyone's actually reading this, stay tuned (#shot).