Liam has gained (perspective) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2014-01-30 15:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | scarecrow |
Who: Ashleigh Donovan
What: A bit of a panic
Where: Her room at the Bellagio
When: Recently
Warnings/Rating: Some panicking.
She was late.
Not just a day or so, but a week, and for someone who was usually regular like clockwork, even a day or two late gave Ashleigh cause to be concerned, particularly when she had slept with someone. And now, she was late, and with it coming on the heels of having slept with Alexander Murphy the same day that Sam had been shot, Ashleigh thought she had a pretty good reason to be concerned.
She couldn't be pregnant. She shouldn't be pregnant. She was on the Pill and had been for as long as she could remember. But here she was, and there it wasn't, and she knew she had to at least call Alexander. Sitting there on the edge of the bed, phone in her hands, Ashleigh couldn't bring herself to do it. Her hands were shaking, a flutter of worry and anxiety making itself known in the pit of her stomach, and she felt like she was going to throw up. She could only imagine what her family would say if this turned out to be legitimate. They were angry enough with her as it was for her even being involved with one of the Murphys; she imagined their heads might very well explode if they found out she was carrying one of their children as well.
The phone was tossed to the side, bouncing twice on the mattress before finally settling. Ashleigh got up to her feet, fingers tangled together as she paced a path in front of the bed, trying to come to some sort of decision. Having a plan of action always made her feel better, so mentally, Ashleigh started her list. She'd go to the store, get a pregnancy test, and go from there. If it was negative, then she wouldn't have to tell anyone that this had happened.
And if it was positive…?
Well, she'd deal with that when it happened. The sick feeling in her stomach wouldn't allow her to think any further ahead than that.
Decision made, Ashleigh found the keys to her bike and grabbed her jacket off the chair she had thrown it on last time she had gone out. She tried to calm the shaking in her hands with a deep breath, and then she was out, footsteps heavy on the hallway of the Bellagio.
Hours later, Ashleigh was sitting on the edge of the bathtub in the bathroom, staring at the test in her hands. A tiny pink plus sign. It was so innocuous, and it seemed ridiculous that something so tiny, something so happy and pink could have her so upset. One leg bounced up and down, vibrating her entire body with the anxiety that was ripping through her. The logical, sound part of her mind told her that it could still be false. These things weren't always correct. But there was another little voice that piped up, reminding her that it could be absolutely correct.
Ashleigh put the test on the edge of the counter and got up to wash her hands, scrubbing at them until her skin was reddened, as though that might help the situation at all. She needed to call Alexander. Needed to call someone. Had it been anyone else she had been with, Ashleigh would have called one of her brothers, but considering she couldn't gauge what kind of reaction they would have (likely horrible), the only person to call was the one who was partially responsible for this situation.
She splashed water on her face and looked at her reflection in the mirror. The black eye she had gotten during last week's bout was fading, and it only added to the dark shadows beneath her eyes that had formed with all the worry that had come up in the last weeks since Sam was shot. "You're not ready to be a mother," she told herself, her voice breaking at the end with a laugh. It sounded so absolutely preposterous. Her? A mother? It didn't sound right.
Ashleigh tore herself away from her reflection to go fetch her phone from where she had left it on the bed, and sinking down to sit on the floor, she punched in Alexander's number and listened to the sound of the ringing phone, waiting for him to pick up.