Clinical

Dru shook Ryan awake one night, pressing a finger to her lips once his eyes fluttered open, gesturing silently toward the door. It had to be Ryan, she’d decided after weeks of deliberation. It would have been months if she had months.

She didn’t have months.

Druscilla shut the door on a peacefully sleeping Brendon, alone now in their Queen-sized bed, drooling on his green pillowcase, dreaming happy things that he’d tell them about over breakfast the next day.

Ryan was wiping sleep from his eyes and trying not to yawn as he followed Dru down the steps into the basement. “Baby, what’s going on?” he murmured, immediately wincing when she shhh’d him and shut the basement door.

“I need you to kill it.” she said in an extremely low voice.

The boy looked confused and said nothing, bringing a hand to his mouth to chew on a hangnail. He knew his silence would be enough to force her to explain.

“I need you to kill it.” she said again, this time leaning in, letting one hand grab the bottom of the tee-shirt he was wearing.

“What are you talking about?” His voice was even quieter than hers and he stopped biting at his hand, letting it fall to his side.

“This thing.” Dru whispered desperately, tears shining in her eyes now. “This thing inside me.”

Ryan’s eyes widened. Everything from Ouija boards to exorcism to bad B-movies raced through his mind. “W-What thing?” He started chewing the hangnail again.

The girl let out a noise that sound very like a horse and grabbed his hand, putting it on her stomach. “It’s growing.” she whispered. “You have to kill it.”

Ryan’s hand twitched on her stomach. “You mean an abortion?” he asked after a momentary silence. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He was making damn sure it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

“It’s killing me.” the girl whispered, and then the tears began to fall, as well as her, face pressed against Ryan’s chest as he held her. “They’re haunting me. They don’t want me to have it.”

They flitted in his head for a moment before registering. His lips pressed hard against her forehead when it did. “I’ll go with you tomorrow.” he promised.

“Don’t tell Brendon.” Dru murmured, her arms wrapped around his waist, sniffling against his tee-shirt.

“I won’t.”

* * *

They wouldn’t let him in the room with her. She cried and begged and screamed, but they still wouldn’t. He was in the waiting room, lying to Brendon via text message, swearing he and Dru had gone out for breakfast, said she’d started her period and was craving food they didn’t have, said they hadn’t wanted to wake him. It worked.

Now he was staring at his hands, refusing to meet the eyes of anyone in the room. Mostly girls, one other boy. He was holding onto the girl beside him as if she might suddenly bolt for the door, screaming.

Only now, only for this moment that Dru wasn’t around did he let himself wonder. Just for a moment. Was it his or was it Brendon’s? He hated himself for wondering. It wasn’t like it mattered. Not at all.

Just a bunch of cells. Not a baby. He didn’t want kids. He’d never wanted kids. With a mother who walked out and a father that was drunk the majority of his life, who would? He’d rather be sitting in the waiting room at the clinic. He was not going to be a father. He was not going to fuck up like they did.

Dru came out then, pale and trembling, her arms squeezed tightly around herself. He jumped up immediately, his own arms gently wrapping around her, leading her through the front doors and out to the car. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

She nodded as he opened her door. “It’s gone.” she whispered.

“I know, baby.”

Then, she cried.