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1. Racing From Love Ch. 16-18

By: inspirixis1



CHAPTER SIXTEEN

'Have you seen your mother since that morning?' 

'Yes, she asked to meet with me. I had lunch with her.'

'And how did that go?'

Emma sighed, she hated psychologists, all of this touchy feely talking about her feelings wasn't going to change the fact that her life was fucked up and she had fallen into another depressive episode. Unfortunately it had been long enough since she'd seen her psychiatrist that she had to get a referral from a general practitioner who said she'd only write one if she spoke to a psychologist first. Bitch. 

At least this one seemed halfway normal, well, aside from the haircut that was straight out of the early 90's. Her office was neat and organized, and decorated with benign artwork that featured coastal scenes heavily. No pictures of kittens clinging onto ropes with the slogan 'hang in there', or those annoying inspirational posters with some idiot on top of a mountain and the label 'perseverance'. 

This was still taking way longer than it should have, she had a history of depression and anxiety for Christ's sake, why did she have to go through all of this shit to get a new prescription? It had already been over a week since the thanksgiving from hell and she was sitting here wasting time in the shrink's office. 

She tried to focus on the question. 'It went better than I had expected, I guess.' Emma thought back to the meeting with her mom, it went eerily well actually. 

'What did you talk about?' 

'She wanted to know if I was going to end it with Sam. I told her I didn't know.'

'And how did she react to that?'

God, she really didn't want to talk about this. 'She encouraged me to end it.'

'What was her reasoning?' 

'She says it is unnatural, that we would never be able to have a normal life because people would always be judging us. Not to mention that she thinks it is morally repugnant. That's the word she used, repugnant.'

'What people would be judging you?'

'Everybody I guess.'

'Do you believe that?'

All these questions were making her headache pound. 'I don't know, I guess so.'

'Why do you think everybody would judge you?' 

Emma snapped, 'Well let's see, I've been fucking my brother. You don't think that's a bit odd?'

Linda, the psychologist, gave her a stern look. 'It is not my job to judge what is or is not odd, Emma.'

'Sorry,' Emma muttered. 

'Besides, how would people know that you are brother and sister? Do you look alike?'

Emma snorted, 'No, he's white.'

'And how does Sam feel?'

'He wants to keep seeing me, he kept on calling me, I had to ask him to stop.' She thought of the phone conversations she'd had with him lately. A lot of empty silence, a lot of empty sadness. 

Linda uncrossed and crossed her legs in the opposite direction, the pause in the conversation long enough for Emma to know that she had decided to change her approach.

'Have you decided if you will end it or not yet?' 

'I think so. Yes, I think I will end it,' Emma felt the sickness in her stomach intensify when she thought of it. Of course she had known since she'd awoken to find her mother at the foot of the bed, but it still made her feel sick to think about telling Sam in no uncertain terms that it was over. 

'Do you always do what you mother tells you?' 

Emma looked up, startled. She wasn't expecting this sort of confrontation. 

'It is a legitimate question. Do you always do as she says?' Linda repeated.

Emma thought about it. 'I've never really had a reason not to. I usually agree with her. I usually think she is right.'

'Do you think she is right in this case?'

Emma sighed and rubbed her eyes. 'I don't know... maybe... probably.'

'Do you think she offers you good advice or do you think she offers you a good home, a good family?'

'Both.' 

'Do you think your other family members, your dad and Sam, are only accessible through your mother?'

'Well obviously not Sam, but my dad always agrees with her. I'm not saying he's only accessible through her, but they're a team, he might make himself inaccessible in order to support her. Where are you going with this?'

'Emma, do you think perhaps your decision to end your relationship with Sam is rooted in a fear of being abandoned by your parents?' 

Emma saw a glimmer of truth, a little slice of her own inner workings. It shocked her that this woman had so easily seen into her heart, seen something that she didn't even know herself until it was said out loud. 

'It's just a question, something to think about,' said Linda as she shuffled the papers on her lap into order, signifying that their session was over. 

'I do believe that you legitimately need to be medicated Emma. From your record and your symptoms I believe that you have an illness that requires treatment, so I will have Dr. Creaser write you a referral.'

Emma should have been happy, that's what she came for right? For a referral to get meds., but she was still thinking about the revelation. 

Linda paused and looked at her. 'Would you like to come back to see me again?' She asked. 

Emma couldn't believe that she was nodding her head. She hated psychologists. 

'Good. You are going through some major changes Emma, and talking about things can help you to gain some clarity. You can make another appointment at the front desk, how about for about a weeks time?'

'Yes, that would be good. Thank you Linda,' Emma said, still not believing that she was voluntarily having an extra session with a shrink. She picked up her bag and turned to leave. 

'Oh, Emma,' Linda had something else to say. 'This is not professional advice. My personal advice is that mothers, and especially mothers,' she paused for effect, 'are the worst people to take relationship advice from. If I were you I'd put off making the decision a little longer, if possible.' She smiled benignly. 'See you in a week then,' she said as she guided Emma out the door. 

What the hell did that mean? She didn't have a mother. 

Emma thought about the shrink session for the rest of the day and for several days afterwards. It was like there was a little ray of sunshine penetrating the dark clouds in her brain. Everything was still totally shit, the situation was still 100% fucked up, but at least now she kind of understood why she was so torn up. Apart from all of the legal crap, what she was being asked to do was to choose between her parents and the love of her life.

She was leaning towards her parents. It was hard not to, Emma owed her life to them. If it weren't for them god knows where she would be now. How could she repay them by breaking their hearts? Sure she loved Sam, she loved him so much it hurt to think about him, but she owed her parents. 

The week ticked by slowly. She managed to get an appointment with the psychiatrist for Thursday. Exactly two weeks since it all happened. 

Her psychiatrist was a wiry looking old guy who was really lovely and softly spoken, he was such an odd contrast with his office which was sterile and painted institutional pale green. 

'What are your symptoms this time Emma?' He asked in his slow kindly voice. 

'The anxiety is terrible, I feel like I have a worm in my belly that is thrashing around taking bites out of me from inside.'

'Hmm, that's an interesting description,' he smiled at her. 

'The nausea is back. I can't eat, I feel sick just smelling or looking at food, and I've thrown up a few times.'

'Is that getting better or worse since the initial trigger?' He asked.

'I think it is getting worse, and it is getting more spontaneous, I have less warning between when I know I'm going to throw up and actually vomiting.' 

'Okay,' he was writing notes, 'anything else?'

'This time I feel dizzy a lot more. I've been trying to drink the Gatorade, like you suggested last time, but it doesn't seem to be helping. And I feel tired, very, very tired.'

'How about suicidal thoughts?' He asked.

'No, not really. I wish I could curl up in a ball and never wake up again but I haven't been thinking about killing myself.'

'Okay dear, don't worry, we're going to try you on the Paxil again,' he said as he scribbled out a prescription. 'Now, I just need you to provide a urine sample to the lab before and then they'll put the prescription through to the pharmacy.' 

She peed in the cup and turned it in to the lab along with the prescription, as the doctor had told her to. 

'We can probably fit this in this afternoon, so you should be able to pick up your prescription tonight. The pharmacy closes at 6,' the technician informed her. 

Thank god, Emma thought. She went back to her classes feeling a little bit more hopeful that she could get things back under control. It was only an hour later that she got the call from the health clinic which would change everything. It was a nurse asking her to come back in that afternoon. 

What on earth could be wrong, she wondered. She went back over to the heath clinic and checked in where she had been told to go. It was not long before she was sitting in an exam room, waiting. She started to get nervous. What was the problem? Was there something wrong with her? She knew she couldn't be pregnant, she was on the pill and she had never missed a day, not even once.

A new doctor came into the room, she was middle aged and wore no makeup, her movements were swift and efficient. 

'Hello Emma, I'm Chistine Johannsen, I'm an O-B-G-Y-N here at the university health clinic.' She held out her hand and Emma shook it. 

'Please sit down, I have some news for you.'

Emma's heart was beating at a million miles an hour, why was an OBGYN consulting with her?

'Emma, your urine sample came back positive, you are pregnant,' she said briskly.

'Wh-what?' she stammered. Surely she couldn't have heard right, she was on the pill, she'd never missed a tablet.

'You are pregnant. I take it that this is a surprise?'

'I can't be... I'm on the pill.' She stuttered. 

'Did you miss a tablet?' She asked.

Emma shook her head. 

'Have you taken any other medications?'

She shook her head. 'Wait, I took a valium,' she recalled. 

'And when was that?'

'Two weeks ago today,' her voice dropping to a whisper as her throat dried up. 

'Yes, that most certainly would have done it.' She was writing on a chart. 

'Do you have any questions, or shall we discuss your options?'

This was all happening so fast. She was pregnant? Pregnant with a baby? With Sam's baby? She felt ill. 

She tried to keep up with the doctor, 'Options.'

'Okay, option number one is that you keep the baby. You come for regular checkups and look after your health. Your due date would be August 18.' She paused. 

'Option number two is to terminate the pregnancy. If this is your preference then you are lucky because you are only four weeks pregnant, so you can still have a medical abortion, by which I mean that you will take a series of tablets that will make you miscarry without surgical intervention. It will feel like a very bad heavy menstrual period. The medical abortion is only an option up until eight weeks, so if you want to do that you will need to decide quite soon. 

'Past eight weeks a surgical abortion is possible up to twenty-one weeks gestation, although obviously we recommend that if you choose to have an abortion you have it done sooner rather than later. Any questions so far?' 

'The medical abortion, when can I have that done?' She asked. The bad heavy period scenario was the best out of the list, in her mind. 

'We can book you in for tomorrow. The state of California requires that you undertake a counseling session first, then you will be given the first pill. Forty-eight to seventy-two hours later, you will take the second pill, which will induce the bleeding.'

Emma felt numb, 'Okay, yes, let's do that.' 

The doctor nodded her head and made some notes in her chart. You can make the appointment at Clinic number three, which is on the second floor. You will need this referral. She ripped the paper that she had been scribbling on off her note pad.

Emma walked through making the appointment like a zombie. How could she have been so stupid? She knew that you were supposed to check before taking other medicines while on the pill. She'd just been so distraught on that day. 

When she thought about it, that day had been right smack bang in the middle of her cycle. And when she thought about it, Sam had injected an unusually large amount of semen into her in the early hours of the morning that day. Shit. How could she have gone and done that? 

But she shouldn't worry, she was just going to take the pills and have a bad heavy period. She shouldn't even think about it. She didn't feel like she was pregnant, it didn't feel like there was a baby in her belly, so why even think about it? 

The problem was that she couldn't stop thinking about it. She should tell Sam. She knew she should tell him. God, how hurt would he be if he ever found out that she had been pregnant with his child and she'd aborted it without telling him? He'd probably keel over and die on the spot from a broken heart. 

But telling Sam would add a whole extra layer of complexity to the problem. He would want to keep it, she knew he would want it. What if she had the baby and the state took it away, like their dad had said? And even if they could keep it what would she do with a baby anyway? She had no idea how to look after a child. 

She felt like there was a massive windstorm in her brain. Thoughts and ideas crashed around haphazardly, nothing seemed attached or grounded. God she needed Sam right now. 

She looked at her watch, it was 3 pm, she was supposed to be at weight training in another hour. Or she could get in the car and be at Sam's place by the end of the day. 



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

It was 10:00 pm. The drive had taken longer than it should have because she'd had to stop a few times to walk around and calm herself down. 

It was raining. Thick sheets of water poured from the sky. Emma sat in her car a few doors down from Sam's apartment building, willing herself to get out and walk to the door. She was about to ruin his life. Even if Sam thought that he wanted to be with her, this baby was going to ruin him. If she had the abortion he might never get over it, if she didn't they'd have a kid for the rest of their lives. The rest of their lives. It was a very long time. It was one thing to talk about it, it was another thing to be trapped into it. 

She took a deep breath, opened the car door and ran up to the apartment building. Once she was inside it only took a moment to find his apartment. She knocked on the door before she could loose her momentum, before she could stop and think about it again. 

After a moment a tall lanky guy with dark hair and fair skin opened the door. Emma was confused, she knew she had the number right. 

'Hi,' he said tentatively.

'Ah, is Sam here?' she asked meekly. 

Before he could respond she heard his voice, 'Emma, is that you?' 

Sam appeared behind the mystery guy, who looked from Emma to Sam and back again. There was such tension between them, they hadn't even said hello yet and her hairs were sanding on end. 

'Come in, you're soaked,' he said as he reached for her hand and pulled her inside. 

Emma looked around, so this is where Sam lived. It dawned on her that the mystery guy must be his roommate, Tyler. God her brain must really be backfiring for her to forget that he had a roommate. 

'You know what? I think I'll go over to Kelly's tonight. I'll see you at practice tomorrow Sam,' said Tyler, still looking at Emma. And then he left, leaving her standing alone with Sam in the living room of his small, cramped apartment. 

'You should take that off, you'll catch a cold,' he said. Still holding her hand he led her down a narrow hallway and into his room. It was neat. Sam had always been neat. He let go of her hand and opened a dresser drawer, pulling out a hooded sweatshirt. 

'Here,' he handed it to her and walked out of the room. 

She peeled the wet sweater off, she was soaked through to the skin. She decided to take off her shirt and bra too, as they were similarly wet. She pulled on his hoodie and was surrounded by the smell of him. She closed her eyes and breathed it in for a moment, letting it soothe her frazzled nerves. 

She didn't know what to do with her wet clothes, so she left them hanging over the back of his desk chair and walked back out into the living room. Sam was sitting on the couch.

'I know why you're here,' he said. He was looking at the TV, which was switched off. 

Emma was confused, how could he know already? She didn't even know herself until today. 

'How?' 

'Mom told me.' 

How could mom have known? Weren't there privacy laws? Wasn't it illegal to disclose patient information? 

'She told me that she had lunch with you, that you told her that you were going to end it with me.'

Emma was startled, why would their mother have said that? 'I never said that Sam.'

He looked up at her, 'You didn't?' 

She shook her head. 'No, I told her that I hadn't made up my mind yet.'

He looked relieved. 'Why would she tell me that?' 

Then Emma remembered the comment the psychologist had made... 'Mothers, and especially mothers, are the worst people to take relationship advice from,' she had said. 

'She's trying to break us up,' Emma said. 

'So that means we are still together?' Sam asked.

'I don't know Sam, I have all sorts of conflicting feelings, I don't know yet.' 

He nodded. 'So if you don't know what you want, why are you here?' 

'I'm pregnant,' she told him without stopping to think about it, lest she lose her nerve. 

Sam's eyes grew wide, 'Pregnant?'

Emma felt the tears coming, she didn't want to cry, she wanted to act cool, for him to think she had things under control, but the tears came anyway. 

Sam was beside her, his arm around her, leading her to the couch. 

'It's my fault Sam,' she sobbed. 'I took a valium, it interfered with the pill.' Her breathing was ragged. 'I didn't mean to, I didn't even realize.'

'Shhh, baby,' he was holding her against him, rubbing her back. 'Just stop. Calm down.' 

How could he be so calm? He was like a rock, so solid and dependable. She let him soothe her. He sat on the couch and pulled her into his lap, cradled in his arms she rested her head on his chest and listened to his heart beating. The steady rhythm lulled her into a sense of security. She shouldn't be letting him hold her like this, but she needed him right now. She needed him to help her through this. 

They sat like that for a long time. Finally, when she had been quiet for a long time, he spoke. 

'So we are going to be parents then?'

She shook her head, 'I made the appointment for the med...' her words stuck in her throat, 'for the medical abortion.' 

'What? Emma, no!' He cried. He pushed her upright on his lap so that she would look at him. 'Why? Why would you do that?'

'It's okay Sam, it's just a series of pills I'll take, it will be like I'm having a bad heavy period. It's only been growing for two weeks, it's tiny.'

Sam looked distraught, his forehead was crinkled and his mouth gaped slightly. 'But Emma, it's our baby.'

She shook her head, 'It's not a baby yet, it's just an embryo, just a bunch of cells. If I get the drugs now it will just be like I'm having my period...' She started to cry again. 'Do you know how complicated it would be if we had this baby Sam?' 

This time he didn't hug her to him, he didn't reach for her and try to calm her. 'I don't care how complicated it is,' he told her. 

'Mom and dad would have a fit, they'd disown us.'

'They wouldn't, and even if they did it wouldn't change my mind. You're more important than them. Our baby is more important than them.' 


1. Racing From Love Ch. 16-18



'But it would break their hearts,' she sobbed. 

'They'll get over it. Emma, please don't do this.'

'There are too many things against us. What if it was taken away from us? What if our baby had to live in foster homes and we didn't know where it was or if it was being looked after properly?'

'I wouldn't let that happen. I'd never let that happen,' his eyes were dark, angry. 

'Sam,' she begged him, 'please don't make this harder for me than it has to be. I need you. I need you to help me through this.'

He sighed, and closed his eyes. The seconds ticked by. When he opened them again they were sad, defeated. 'When is your appointment?' He asked.

'Tomorrow at three.'

He sighed again, 'Okay, we'll have to leave by eight, traffic is always bad on Fridays.'

She touched him on the arm, 'You don't have to come with me. I just came because I thought you would want to know.'

He shook his head, 'Of course I'm going with you, I am responsible for this too.' 

He nudged her and she moved off his lap. 

'Come on, let's go to bed,' his voice was flat. 

He walked back down the hallway and into his room, Emma trailed behind him. He stripped off to his boxer shorts and grabbed one of the pillows from the bed. Reaching up into his closet, he pulled out a blanket.

'There are clean t-shirts in the second drawer,' he told her. 'Good night,' he hesitated for just a second before turning and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. 

Emma looked around, she hadn't had a chance to examine the room before. She could see into his closet where there was a box on the ground full of trophies and medals. He had a set of bookshelves above his desk and she skimmed over the titles, they were mostly text books, Applied Biogeochemistry, Ordinary Differential Equations, Physical Chemistry, Chaos and Fractals, Quantum Mechanics, MatLab for Science. 

Her eyes skimmed over his desk where there was a notebook open with equations scribbled in his messy handwriting beside an open text book. She turned it over to read its title, 'Partial Differential Equations.' Christ, it looked complicated. 

There was a small stack of books on the desk too. Something caught her eye, a familiar book. She shimmied it out of the pile, it was the book of microphotographs that she had sent him for his birthday the year that he wouldn't talk to her. 

She opened it up, it was slightly worn, the corners of the pages limp from overuse. She flipped through the images, on every page there were notes in his handwriting. 'Bacillus anthacis? Or cereus?' read one of the notes. On another page 'lacks vascular structure, probably Bryophyta' was scribbled. It seemed he had liked her gift. 

She continued to look around. There was only one picture on the wall, it was an enlarged photograph of Rosie, the golden retriever they'd had as kids. It was a picture of her in the surf at Santa Cruz, her coat drenched and clinging to her body, a tennis ball in her mouth. It must have been from a summer vacation. It made Emma smile. 

Rosie was so funny in the surf, she could never quite figure out the waves and she was always forgetting that it was salt water and trying to drink it only to gag and shake her head. She wasn't a clever dog but they had loved her all the same. She and Sam had begged and begged their parents for a dog, they had given in on the grounds that the kids would be responsible for her. They fed her, they walked her, they picked up her poop and when she got so stinky that they couldn't stand it any longer they bathed her. 

She had died of cancer when they were fifteen, it had been so sad, they had cried and cried. She was only nine years old. She remembered Sam saying that there would never be another dog like Rosie. 

Emma found a t-shirt in his drawers, she changed into it and stripped off her jeans. She turned off the light and crawled into his bed. She looked up at the ceiling. A soft beam of light entered the room from the window, falling diagonally across the bed. She sat up and looked out, it was from the streetlight across the road. Rain was still falling, although it was lighter now than it had been earlier. 

She lay back down facing away from the window, and that's when she noticed the photograph on his nightstand. Her own smiling face was illuminated by the streetlight. It was a photo from last summer, when they'd gone cherry picking at a farm out in Brentwood. 

She remembered when he'd taken it, they were deep in some farmer's cherry orchard and he'd been feeding her cherries and making lame jokes about how he'd taken her cherry away from her. He'd chased her around the trees and they'd kissed and fondled each other in the cool grass until they'd heard children's laughter approaching. They'd picked up their buckets and left giggling, both swollen and aroused.

The picture was oriented at just the right angle in just the right position in the light so that you could stare at it if you were lying on your side like she was. 

She reached out for it, and realized that it was actually a stack of photos held together in a ring stand. She pulled the photos out and looked through them, they were all of her, but some of them had Sam in them. There were photos of her at running races, them on backpacking trips, at the beach, in their parents' back yard. There was one very old photo of the two of them on a boat on Lake Tahoe, grinning widely, dripping wet and wearing bright orange life preservers. That was the summer that they'd learned how to water-ski, they couldn't have been older than twelve. 

She was touched. Sam looked at her photo at night, and it seemed like he had done for a long time. She didn't doubt that he loved her, she hadn't doubted it since the fall after her accident, she was just surprised to have found evidence of it in his room. 

She put the photos back in the stand, rolled over and tried to sleep. She lay there for a long time. Thoughts swirled around in her head, images of happier times jumbled with the uncertainties of the present and fear for the future. She finally drifted off to sleep.

She was at the health clinic. The nurse told her to take the pill and so she swallowed it. All of a sudden she was bleeding, the blood seeped through her jeans and dripped on the sterile white tiled floor. Big drops of red, violent against the blinding white floor. 

The nurse told her to take her pants off and lay down with her feet in the stirrups. Push she told her, push! Emma pushed hard, the pain searing through her body. Finally it was gone. The nurse left the room. Emma sat up, there was something moving in the kidney shaped metal tray, she stood up and walked over to it. It was a bird, a big black crow, covered in blood and mucus and twitching violently. Its milky white eyes were unseeing, its beak opened and closed grotesquely, wheezing air. She had given birth to a crow. 

She sat up in the bed, her heart racing. She looked around, not recognizing anything. She started crying, big sobs that made her gasp for air. There was a knock on the door.

'Emma?' 

Sam came in. 'What's wrong? I heard you scream,' there was fear in his voice. 

The relief was overwhelming, he was beside her and she clutched on to him pulling him into the bed, sobbing against his bare chest. His arms enfolded her, holding her tightly.

'Shhh, Emma, I've got you... Shhhh, I'm here now,' he cooed to her in his deep husky voice. 

Slowly she began to realize what had happened and relax. It was a nightmare. She consciously slowed her breathing, taking bigger breaths, trying to calm down. She sagged into Sam. 

'Bad dream?' He asked. 

She nodded, the skin of her face still pressed against his chest. 'I dreamed that I gave birth to a crow,' she shivered remembering the disgusting sight. 'How does my brain come up with this shit?' 

'Don't think about it now. You need to sleep, it's late.'

He was loosening his grip on her, pushing her gently back down onto the bed. She didn't want him to leave. 

'Sammy, I'm scared. Will you sleep in here?'

He hesitated for a second before he slipped under the covers with her. He seemed reluctant to touch her, he didn't seem to want to hold her. He lay flat on his back while she curled up facing him. 

Every time she closed her eyes she saw that awful crow, the tears kept on rolling out, her breath almost like a hiccup. 

'Come on, turn over,' he told her. 

She turned away from him and he spooned her, his warmth diffusing through the t-shirt and into her back. His lips brushed against the back of her neck when he spoke. 

'Hey, do you remember that time we were up in Tilden Park and we decided that the blackberries were so good that we should pick a bunch of them and make jam?' 

She sniffed, 'uh-huh.'

'And when we ate the jam it turned our teeth purple?'

She let out a funny sort of giggle, 'And then we invited Dale Flannery over and made him eat a bunch of it before he had to go to church an his teeth were so black.'

She felt Sam's chest vibrate as he chuckled. 'I'm surprised his parents ever let him come around again.'

There was a pause, Emma's breathing was settling down. 'I like the picture of Rosie,' she said.

'Mmmm... I loved that dog, she was such a good girl.'

'Remember how she used to hide under mom and dad's bed when she knew we were going to give her a bath?'

'Yeah, and how she used to hide her treats in the closet and forget about them. Remember when she hid a dog biscuit in Dad's golf shoes and by the time he found out it was all soggy and rotten?'

Emma laughed, 'Mmm, she was a good dog. I remember when she died you told me that there would never be another dog like her.'

'And there probably wont be. She was our childhood pet, she will always be idealized in our minds.' 

They lay there like that for a long time. When Sam held her like this she felt like nothing else in the world mattered. 

'I'm glad you're in all of my memories Sam,' she whispered. 

He squeezed her gently, 'Me too Em.'

Emma woke up the next morning with Sam's erection pressing into her butt. God, it was so erotic, she was so turned on. His hand had found its way under her t-shirt and was resting on her bare belly, excruciatingly close to her aching pussy. 

She was in the haze of the early morning. Those moments when you are neither awake nor asleep, when the weight of the day hasn't yet settled on your shoulders. She wanted to feel him again, to feel something good, something real. 

She started grinding her butt against him, she could feel the moisture between her pussy lips, if only she could maneuver his cock far enough between her butt cheeks she knew he would feel it too. 

His hand slipped from her belly down to her hip. She willed him to touch her breasts, to squeeze them, they were so tender and sensitive. But his hand stayed on her hip, slowly tightening his grip until he had her pinned so she couldn't move. 

He held her there for a moment, his cock pushing against the fabric of her panties, dividing her butt cheeks. 

His lips tickled her ear when he said, 'Not like this Emma.'

And then he got up. She heard the creaking of pipes and the hiss of a shower. She was wide awake now, burning with embarrassment. Now there was no escaping the task of the day, today she would terminate the product of their forbidden love.

Sam stood in the shower letting the water wash over him. Today was going to suck. This whole weekend was going to suck. He didn't know how long a medical abortion took, he'd heard of it but had never had the need to learn about it. She'd said that it would be a series of pills so he assumed he'd be up there for a few days. 

He felt so conflicted. One part of him wanted to forbid her from doing it today, make her sit down with him and talk properly about what the options were before making a decision. Another part of him recognized that she was right, having a baby would make their situation so much more complicated. He wanted her to come back to him because she wanted to, not because she was trapped into it by having a kid with him. And then there was the legal problem, he didn't know if they could get around that. 

If she was going to terminate the pregnancy doing it now would be much better than waiting. He had taken enough biology to understand the reproductive cycle of placental mammals. Technically what they had made together was called an embryo at this point, but it was little more than a blastocyst, just a little ball of cells that had implanted in her endometrium. But in a few more weeks it would have a heart beat and the organs would start developing and then an abortion would start to become a more painful and ethically challenging problem. 

His chest contracted painfully thinking about how their baby would develop if left alone. He felt protective, he knew it was stupid but he wanted to protect that little ball of cells in her womb. 

He shook his head, he needed to get a grip. The simple fact of the matter was that in order to have a baby you needed a willing mother, and Emma appeared to be anything but willing. She had asked him to help her through this and he would. 

Later, while they were eating breakfast at the nook in the kitchen Emma apologized for what had happened in the bed that morning. 

'It's okay,' he replied, not wanting to torture her more than she clearly was torturing herself. 'It's just that I can't do casual sex with you Em, if we're going to do it I need to know that it's for real.'

She nodded, but before she could say anything Tyler walked in the door. 

'Dude, you are in so much shit,' Tyler told him with a sly grin on his face. 'Coach looked like he was about to birth puppies when you didn't show up for practice.'

'What did you tell him?' He knew that coach would have asked Tyler, he was his closest friend on the team and they lived together. 

'Nothing, I told him that I didn't stay here last night so I didn't know where you were. You should probably call him, he's pretty livid.'

Sam was finding it difficult to give a shit if his coach was angry at him. 

'Tyler, this is Emma. Emma, Tyler,' he introduced them to each other. 

'Hey, nice to meet you,' Tyler said as he leaned over Sam to shake her hand. 

'Yeah, you too,' replied Emma, she gave him a small smile. 

'Can you do me a favor and turn my PDE homework in to Dr. Zimmermann's mail box today?' Sam asked him.

'Alright,' he said suspiciously. 'Where will you be?'

'We're going up to Berkeley, I probably wont be back until next week.'

Tyler's mouth dropped open. It was bad to miss one practice, but Sam was going to miss at least three. He may be the fastest swimmer on the team but he'd pretty much used up all of his good will with coach last fall, when he'd moved home to take care of Emma. 

'Dude, I hope you're planning on telling coach because I can't cover your ass for that long.'

'Yeah, I'll call him, don't worry.' Sam got up and went to retrieve his homework from his room. He could hear them talking out in the kitchen.

'You swim?' She asked.

'Uh-huh.'

'What events?'

'50 and 100 breaststroke.'

'Huh. Maybe you could teach Sam.'

'Hey, I can hear you,' he called out, but he was smiling. She was such a little shit. 

'Whatever Sam, you know your breaststroke is holding you back,' she called back. 

'He's just in denial, he doesn't want to admit that he's an IM swimmer,' she said to Tyler. 

'Is that right?' he replied, amusement in his voice. 

Sam walked back into the room. 'Babe, I didn't even make a final in an IM event at worlds.' Tyler's eyebrows rose in surprise when he called her babe. 

'Yeah, because your breaststroke sucks,' she said in a you-idiot kind of way. 

He was surprised, 'You told me my breaststroke was awesome.'

'Yeah, a year ago, and that was in comparison to your back stroke, which I think we can all agree was appalling at that stage.'

Tyler started chuckling. He was leaning against the counter eating grapes out of the fruit bowl, clearly enjoying this conversation. 

'Have you got something to add?' Sam asked him.

'No, I think she's doing a pretty good job on her own,' he said, his eyes sparkling with fun. 

Sam shook his head, smiling. 'We've got to go Em, are you ready?' He asked her. 

'Yeah, just let me pee,' she said as she slid out from her seat and walked away towards the bathroom. 

Sam handed Tyler his homework. He grabbed the dirty plates off the table and started to wash them in the sink. Tyler was still leaning on the kitchen counter, watching him. 

'So, are you going to tell me who she is?' He asked in a low voice. 

'It's complicated,' he replied.

Tyler nodded. 'I like her, she's ballsy.'

Sam laughed, yes she was. Emma had always had a strong personality, it was something that he loved about her. She didn't seem to know the meaning of the word fear; how many people, let alone women, have the guts to do multiple-day running trips through the wilderness? That's why it had scared him so much lately to see her so shaken by their parents' reaction to their relationship. What was she doing taking valium? And now with this pregnancy she really wasn't acting like herself, he'd never seen her scared and frantic like she was last night. 

'How long have you been together?'

Sam didn't know how to answer that question, or if he should answer it. Tyler was a good friend, he thought he could trust him, but what would be the point if Emma was just going to break up with him? 

'She's my sister,' he admitted. 

Tyler's eyes grew wide, 'THAT is your sister?' He asked. 'Your sister who fell and broke her leg?' 

Sam knew what he was getting at, 'Yeah, she's my adoptive sister,' he clarified. 

Tyler gave a low whistle and shook his head. 'I don't envy you brother.'

'What?' 

Tyler looked unsure, 'Surely you must realize that she's gorgeous?' 

Sam nodded, but he knew Emma's good looks were the least of her charms. 

'To have to grow up in the same house, to watch her mature, to never be able to...'

'Hey,' Sam said sharply.

'Oh sorry, I got carried away,' Tyler said with a goofy grin. 

'So you're going up to Berkeley for a few days?' He asked.

'Uh-huh.'

'Can I ask why?'

'No.' 

Tyler nodded, 'Okay, but like I said, you've got to take care of coach.'

Emma came back into the room, her keys jangling from her index finger. 'Ready?' She asked? 

'Yep.' Sam dried his hands and picked up the bag he'd packed.

'Nice to meet you Tyler,' she said giving him a genuine smile. 

Tyler grinned back, 'It really was a pleasure for me Emma. I've never seen anyone put Sam in his place like that.'

She laughed, 'Well someone's got to do it, we don't want his head to get too big.' It was good to hear her laugh properly. 

In the car he asked her if she was serious about his breaststroke. She told him that she thought it was less to do with his technique than it was the fact that he was carrying too much excess muscle in his shoulders. He thought she was joking at first, but she wasn't. 'I think it weighs you down,' she told him. 'Sure you need it if you're going to swim the 200 fly, but it turns into a burden if you want to swim anything else.' 

Talking about swimming was a nice distraction. She told him that she really did believe that he had a better chance of medaling in the 200 or 400 IM than the butterfly events at the world championships, and that he should drop the fly from his program. It was difficult to hear, Sam loved the 200 fly, it had been his event since he was a kid. 

After an hour or so she asked if he would take over driving. She was tired. Sam obliged and she promptly fell asleep in the passenger seat, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Every mile brought them closer to Berkeley, closer to the clinic. He could feel his anxiety level rising, this was going to be one of the most challenging things he'd ever done, to sit through this, to hold her hand and help her terminate the embryo that he wished so dearly to keep. 




1. Racing From Love Ch. 16-18



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The exam room was small and sterile. They sat in metal fold out chairs as the doctor explained what was going to happen. Doctor Rebecca Fitzgibbon, she was patient and thorough. Her long brown hair was pulled back in an old fashioned metal clasp. 

Sam held Emma's hand, she seemed nervous. It was a lengthy process, the doctor said Sam could stay for the pelvic exam but that Emma had to have counseling session one-on-one and sit by herself for 15 minutes before they could give her the first pill. 

When the doctor asked if they had any questions Emma shook her head. Sam asked about the side effects, he asked if there were any studies that suggested that this treatment would reduce her chances of conceiving in the future, he asked how the drugs worked. It seemed to be quite safe. 

Dr. Fitzgibbon left the room while Emma changed into the exam gown and sat on the exam table. Sam folded her clothes and left them on one of the chairs, he stood beside her and took her hand. She was clearly nervous, he was feeling the strain too. 

'Do you want me to leave?' He asked.

'No, stay. If you don't mind, that is.' 

The doctor came back in, she ripped open a sterilized package, and laid a long metal instrument on an exam tray. She squirted some clear lubricating jelly on a piece of gauze and put it on the tray too.

'Okay Emma, please lay back and put your feet up in the stirrups,' she asked as she folded metal extensions out of the table. Huh, he had never noticed those before. 

Emma took a deep breath and did as she was asked. The doctor washed her hands in the little sink with the foot-controlled faucet. She had long thin fingers. 

'A little lower please...' 

She scooted lower on the table as the doctor dried her hands and donned surgical gloves.

'Okay, open your legs a little wider,' she asked as the gently guided Emma's knees apart. 

'Alright, I'm going to insert a finger...' she scooped some lubricant in her fingers and disappeared between Emma's legs. 

'... and now the speculum, this might be a bit cold...' he watched as she picked up the metal instrument and dipped back between Emma's legs. His nervousness was quickly giving way to curiosity. Still standing beside Emma, he raised up on his toes to try and see what was going on. 

'...Okay, now I'm going to open the speculum, you might feel some pressure...'

He couldn't see anything, even on his toes. He looked down at Emma, she had a funny half grin on her face.

'You want to see don't you?' 

'Maybe,' he was relieved that she seemed to be less nervous than before. 

'Can Sam see?' She asked the doctor. 

'Yes, that's fine,' Dr. Fitzgibbon replied. 

He squeezed her hand before he let go of it to go around the end of the table. 

Wow, the stirrups really exposed everything. He glanced over her familiar anatomy to where the speculum was holding her vagina open. The handle of the speculum rested downwards, on her anus. 

'You'll have to bend down to see properly,' Fitzgibbon told him. 

He bent down beside the doctor. She was wearing a sort of head lamp which shined into Emma's vagina, at the end of the reflective surface of the speculum was a purplish round bud with a little round dimple in the middle. 

'That's her cervix?' He asked.

'Yes. We're looking at your cervix Emma, it looks healthy.'

'How so?' Sam asked.

'The surface is smooth and firm, there are no blemishes or bumps.

'Emma, you are definitely pregnant,' the doctor announced. 

'How can you tell?' Sam asked.

Fitzgibbon smiled, she seemed like a nice lady. 'Emma indicated that she hasn't had any bleeding in four weeks. Usually at this time of her cycle the cervix would be soft and the os, that little hole in the middle, would be open in anticipation of bleeding. The fact that it is closed, firm and a little bluish in color indicates that she has conceived.'

'Why does it turn blue?'

'Increased blood circulation.'

'Because the endometrium is growing?' 

'Yes, although after implantation the uterine lining is called the decidua.'

'How is that different?' He asked. He was fascinated. 

'You are curious, aren't you?' she asked, smiling. 

'Sam, are you bothering the doctor?' Asked Emma with an amused undertone.

'Sorry,' he said sheepishly, thinking that he might have overstepped the mark.

'It's not a problem, it's actually refreshing, usually when women bring their partners in they stand by their heads looking like they're about to pass out or throw up.

'In response to the hormone progesterone the endometrium thickens and becomes spongy, and that's when it is called the decidua. Later, some of the cells will become specialized and form the maternal side of the placenta.'

He had a million more questions but he thought it best to keep them to himself for now. He could always look up the answers on his own later. 'Okay, I'll stop asking questions now,' he said, smiling. 

He stood upright and grinned at Emma from between her legs. He gave her the thumbs up, she laughed and rolled her eyes. She seemed to be a lot more relaxed. 

'I'm going to close the speculum now... and now I'm taking it out.' Fitzgibbon seemed intent on keeping a running commentary of everything that she was doing. She placed the speculum back on the tray. 

'Next I'll do the manual part of the exam. I'm going to feel your ovaries and your uterus. Just relax as much as you can, I'm going to insert two fingers now...'

Fitzgibbon slid two fingers into Emma's vagina, palm upwards. She used her other hand to press down on her tummy, feeling around. 

'There is your uterus, it is a little swollen, as we would expect...' She moved the hand on her belly to one side and then the other. '... and your ovaries feel fine too.'

Sam was fascinated, could she really feel all of that? He wanted to try so bad, should he ask? Would Emma think that was weird? He'd already seen her cervix and that didn't seem to bother her. 

'Can I feel?' He asked shyly.

'Sam!' Emma cried incredulously.

'What? It's not sexual, I'm just curious,' he explained. He could tell she wasn't upset, she was shaking her head but she was smiling. 

'Doctor?' She asked.

Fitzgibbon smiled at him, 'Okay, wash your hands thoroughly and put gloves on, there are bigger ones in the second drawer.'

He did as she told him to, he felt nervous as he came to the foot of the bed. 

'Okay, left hand, as if you were making a peace sign, but hold your two fingers together,' she demonstrated. 

Sam copied her. 

'Good, insert them slowly, palm upwards.'

He looked at Emma to get confirmation, she nodded. He looked down and slid his fingers into her. He couldn't really feel her vagina through the gloves, just the pressure from the walls and the warmth of her. He looked back up at her, she was watching him, her expression unreadable. 

'Can you feel the cervix?'

There was a firm nub at the end of her vagina. 'Yes.'

'Good. Now, right hand, half way between the belly button and the opening to the vagina,' she showed him where to place his other hand and he followed. 

'Now, with your left hand, gently push the cervix upwards, while pressing down with your right hand.'

He started to manipulate her the way the doctor had described when Emma yelped, 'Ow!' 

Sam just about jumped out of his skin in terror, he pulled his fingers out of her and stepped back. 

She was laughing, and the doctor was too, 'You should see your face Sam, you look like you may have just wet your pants!' Emma cried. 

He couldn't help but smile. 'Not funny Emma,' he told her.

'Okay, okay. I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. Try again,' she said as she tried valiantly to suppress her smile. 

He stepped back up to her and reinserted his fingers and started feeling between her belly and her vagina. There was a firm mass, in the shape of an upside down pear. 

'I feel it,' he said in awe as he gently felt around it. 'That's where the baby will... would grow,' he corrected himself, suddenly remembering why they were there. Emma's smile disappeared. 

He let go of her and moved away.

'You don't want to feel the ovaries?' The doctor asked. 

'I don't think so, not today,' Sam said quietly. The mood had changed. 

'Well, that's it for the physical exam,' Fitzgibbon said. 'I will send in the counselor in a few minutes and then you will have to leave Sam. I will see you to confirm the miscarriage in two weeks Emma. Best of luck to you,' she said as she pulled the door closed. 

Emma got up and used a tissue to wipe herself. He handed her clothes to her and she dressed in silence. They sat back on the cold metal chairs. 

She was quiet, probably nervous. He felt the weight of their reality settle back on his shoulders. 

'You okay?' He asked.

She nodded but didn't look at him. 

He didn't know what to say, what to do. How could he make this better for her? Before he could decide what to say there was a knock on the door and the counselor came in, who asked him to leave. 

Sam got up, and bent over to kiss Emma on the forehead. He squeezed her hand and she made eye contact with him. Her big brown eyes were dark with fear. What could he do? 

He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, 'It's okay Emma. I'll always love you, no matter what.'

He squeezed her hand again and tuned to leave. As he closed the door he looked up to see that she was still watching him. 

He paced back and forth in the waiting room. Every time a door opened he looked up, wondering if it was Emma. It took forever, he watched the minutes tick by on the clock. His stomach growled with hunger but he didn't want to leave until she'd come out of there. 

Finally the door opened and it was her. He strode over and put his arm around her, her eyes were red and puffy.

'Come on, let's get out of here,' she said. 

Once they were outside of the health center she turned to him. 'I couldn't do it Sam. Not yet, not before we talk about it properly first.'

Relief washed over him, he gathered her to him a in a bear hug and didn't let go for a long time. 

They walked back to her car in silence. Sam was starting to feel better, even if he couldn't convince her to keep the baby he would at least get to have his opinions heard. 

'Emma there's something that I have to tell you,' he said in a serious tone.

'What?' She asked, turning to him.

'It's just that you...' He pretended to search for words.

'What is it?' She asked, worried. 

'...you have a very beautiful cervix.' He said with a big grin. 

She laughed and punched him playfully in the arm, 'You big dork Sam.'

'I think Dr. Fitzgibbon would agree with me,' he told her. 'She saw it too.'

'Yes, I am aware of that,' she said rolling her eyes. 'Thank god we didn't get that awful woman I got yesterday, Johannsen was her name, she was a C-U-N-T,' she spelled it out. 

'Well I guess that's what she specializes in,' he said. 

She laughed again. It was good to see her laugh, everything seemed a little bit better when Emma laughed. 

When he got off the plane on Sunday he felt both better and worse at the same time. On Friday she had told him that he didn't need to stay, but there were too many questions, too many things that didn't add up to him. Why was she taking valium? Why was she at the doctors office in the first place? 

When she told him the whole story it had thrown him. The Emma that he knew was strong and capable; she could maintain her vehicle on her own, she could survive in the wilderness injured. The Emma he knew didn't need psychologists or psychiatrists. Sure, he had known that she had been depressed that summer that they didn't talk, but he had never really spoken with her about it, he never realized just how bad it had been for her. 

It was a new dimension of her to understand. His love had a mental illness, a recurring mental illness. When he had time to digest it he realized that her insistence on getting treatment was really just another manifestation of her competency. To overcome the stigma of mental illness, to recognize and respect a flaw within yourself, it was a stunning achievement. It only made him love her more. 

They hadn't made a decision about the pregnancy. He had laid his case out to her; he promised that he would take care of the baby, that he would raise their child whether she decided she wanted part in that or not. He promised that although it would be something that would bind them, it would not necessitate her staying in a relationship with him. 'I don't want to trap you,' he had told her. 

She brought up the legal problems associated with them having a child together. He had suggested that she could tell the hospital that she didn't know who the father was so that his name wouldn't be on the birth certificate. 'But you wouldn't have any legal rights,' she had said. 'I trust you,' he had assured her. 

Tyler picked him up from the airport. 

'Is everything alright?' He asked.

'No,' Sam replied. 

'Want to talk about it?' 

Sam regarded his friend, Tyler had always been trustworthy, he played the idiot surfer-dude well but he was actually a man of intelligence and principles. 

'We've been... together... since the beginning of last summer, although god knows I had wanted it for years.'

Tyler glanced at him, not taking his eyes off the road for too long. 'Uh-huh, I figured.'

'Our parents caught us over thanksgiving. Predictably, they threw a fit. Mom is pissed because she thinks it's morally wrong, dad is pissed because it's illegal.'

'And you are pissed because...' 

Was he that transparent? He sighed. 'I am pissed because I don't give a shit what our parents think, I want to be with her, but she doesn't feel the same way. She thinks she needs to make a decision between us, it's them or me.' 

'And she hasn't decided yet?'

'No. She was adopted, right? She feels like they saved her life and that she owes it to them to not break their hearts by running off with their only son.'

Tyler gave a low whistle and shook his head. 'Like I said, I don't envy you brother.'

'There's more... She's pregnant.'

'Shit.'

'Yeah, shit. That's what all that was about this weekend, she decided she wanted to have an abortion, while it's still small, you know? I begged her not to, in the end she decided to wait and think about it.'

'Wait, you begged her not to?' 

'I love her,' he said matter-of-factly. 'As soon as she told me she was pregnant I knew that I love our child too.'

'That's a big deal Sam, a kid will be around forever.'

'I know.'

'I don't know what to say to you. Sounds like you are up shit creek without a paddle.'

There was a pause. Sam was surprised that Tyler hadn't made a big deal out of the fact that Emma was supposed to be his sister. 

'You don't think it's disgusting?' Sam asked.

'Interesting yes, disgusting no.'

'Why interesting?'

'There's a theory in psychology, I don't remember the name of it but that says that children who are raised together imprint on each other so that they have a sexual aversion to each other later in life. It's thought to be the underlying motivation behind the incest taboo. Clearly both you and Emma either never felt that aversion or were able to overcome it. For one person to not imprint seems conceivable enough, but for both of you to not feel that aversion is... well it's remarkable.'

Sam thought about it. 'I felt it,' he said. 'When I first started having sexual thoughts about her. It freaked me out. It made me feel like a pervert.'

'Why did that change?'

Sam sighed, he felt tired. 'I tried to suppress it for the longest time, I wouldn't talk to her, wouldn't see her. I started dating Hortencia to try and get away from the thoughts I was having about Emma.'

'Urgh, I thought we agreed to never speak that woman's name again?' Tyler interjected. 

'Nothing worked, she was always in the back of my mind. Then she had her accident and I thought she was going to die.' Sam closed his eyes when he thought of that awful night when he'd found her in the cave, the streaks of blood and dirt on the rocks. He shivered. 'At that point I just accepted that she was the one.'

'And what about when you broke it to Emma? Did she freak out?'

'No, she was the one who started it. The physical part of it anyway.'

'Amazing. You were raised together? Always?'

'Yeah, she's a day younger than me. Her biological mother had the hospital bed beside my mom, she died a few days after Emma was born and my parents decided to adopt her.'

'Hmm.' Tyler appeared to be thinking. 'Who named her?' He asked.

Sam thought about it, 'I don't know, I'd always assumed that her birth mother did.'

'That would make sense, but it strikes me as a very English name for an African American girl. Not to say that there aren't plenty of black people out there with English names, it's just that your family are from England, right?'

'Yeah, at least on my dad's side, I'm not sure about my mom's side, I think they're German.'

'What's her last name?'

'Who my mom? Holtzmann, why?'

'No Emma, if her mom lived for a few days after she gave birth surely you must know her last name?'

Sam had never thought about it before, Emma had always been a Watson to him. 'I don't know, I guess I never asked.'

'Well, no matter her name it seems that you are at her mercy now.'