Chapter Five

It Froze Me

As Lilly finished her story, Scotty’s heart flooded with affectionate warmth, and he gazed at his partner in disbelief. "You went to bat…for me?" he asked in amazement.

Lilly shrugged in reply, with an almost-sheepish grin. "Well, yeah," she replied, her tone slightly uncomfortable, but her sapphire eyes earnest.

Scotty supposed the surprise must have flickered across his face, because Lilly chuckled softly, then continued, the awkwardness disappearing from her voice. "I mean, c’mon, Scotty…you’ve been my partner for years. You were there for me after George, you were there after my mother died…hell, you saved my life when I got shot," she finished, her smile widening. "You think I’m gonna take all that lightly?"

Unaccustomed to this sort of openness from Lilly, he smiled almost shyly, then took a sip of his coffee and pondered her words. They really did have a great partnership, he realized. As she’d said just a few minutes before…it wasn’t anything, and yet it was everything…and it had survived quite a lot of changes over the years: Elisa, Christina, George, the shooting, the love interests that flitted in and out of both their lives, now Kat and the baby…. Looking back over the years, Scotty was truly amazed that he and Lil had kept their partnership alive and well and as strong as ever despite all that. They’d been through a lot, but, as she’d said, he’d always been there for her, and he certainly had no plans of doing otherwise. And yet, for some unfathomable reason…she’d feared losing him. As he placed the coffee mug back on his desk, he glanced up and studied her carefully for a second. Whatever fears Lil had had three years ago seemed to have been put to rest, but, just in case, he hastily sought to reassure her.

"Hey," he said tenderly, with a slight grin, looking deep into his partner’s eyes and placing his hand over hers. "It’s gonna take a lot more than a baby for you to get rid of me. You know that."

"Oh, I know that now," Lilly agreed warmly. "But I just…didn’t back then. And…I was worried," she admitted, her eyes leaving his and fixating on the files on the desk in front of her.

"You never told me that," he replied, seeking her gaze and holding it fast.

After a moment, Lilly smiled and shrugged again. "Well, you had enough on your plate," she informed him lightly. At his arched brow, she continued. "C’mon, Scotty…an unplanned pregnancy with a co-worker? You sure as hell didn’t need worryin’ about me on top of all that."

"Worryin’ about you is always on my plate, Lil," he retorted mildly, giving her hand an affectionate pat before withdrawing his. "It’s somethin’ I’m gonna do, no matter what."

"I know," Lilly replied, then hesitated for a moment before meeting his eyes once more. "And, Scotty…thanks."

He grinned at her again, his eyes twinkling merrily. "Maybe I should be thankin’ you, y’know…for tellin’ Miller what you did." Scotty paused then, his expression suddenly reflective. "Course, that doesn’t exactly make how I handled it look all that good…"

Mid-December, 2008

With the passage of the next few weeks, things had quickly returned to normal, much to Scotty’s amazement. After that awkward first morning, and a couple slightly uncomfortable days after that where they mostly avoided each other, he and Kat had gone back to the way things always had been between them: a snarky, yet sincere friendship, where they laughed and joked and called each other on their crap. Scotty was eternally grateful that their drunken indiscretion had been only a speed bump on an otherwise smooth road, especially now. Things had been a bit strange with Lilly lately, and though he couldn’t for the life of him think why, he refused to waste time obsessing over it as he had in the past. Lil was just…like that, he’d learned over the years. Sometimes she opened up to him, other times she didn’t, and although that had at one time irked him to no end, he’d finally come to accept it as having no bearing on their partnership, or their friendship…it was just the way she was.

But with Kat, he never had to guess how she was feeling. She told it to him straight up, never beating around the bush or pretending she was fine when she wasn’t, and although she wasn’t the type to pour out her innermost feelings to him, or anyone else, for that matter, he didn’t have to do that awkward, walking-on-eggshells dance he sometimes did with Lilly. As a result, despite his long-enduring friendship with Lilly, he was comfortable with Kat in a way that he wasn’t with his partner. Kat’s straightforward nature was contagious: she was honestly and unabashedly herself, especially around him, and that gave him the freedom to let go and do likewise. So he was glad, and endlessly relieved, that things hadn’t gotten weird between them.

At least…not until recently. The past couple of weeks, though, Scotty had noticed Kat looking wan and frequently a bit sick. Occasionally, with a peculiar look crossing her face, she’d suddenly excuse herself from whatever they were doing, be gone for a few minutes, and then return looking somewhat drained, but definitely better. She was also yawning a lot more than usual, he’d observed, yet for some reason she wasn’t guzzling coffee by the gallon like the rest of them always did…like she used to, he noted with alarm. She wasn’t fighting with Vera for snacks, either, and at this, Scotty began to think that maybe she really was sick. Well, whatever it was, he hoped it wasn’t serious. Or contagious.

But as the days wore on and she didn’t seem to be getting any better, Scotty grew more and more concerned. He considered asking her about it, perhaps even suggesting that she see a doctor, but, around that same time, much to his chagrin, he suddenly found himself perilously close to walking on those damn eggshells. Around her, for God’s sake. Where their relationship had previously been characterized by gentle teasing and jovial snark, it was now, he was loath to realize, nearly nonexistent. She didn’t speak to him unless she had to, and the few interviews they’d done together had been eerily quiet and awkwardly professional. In the office, Scotty would glance up and see her looking at him with an inscrutable expression on her face, one that he mulled over regularly, but could never truly figure out. At any rate, he never got too long to study it, because whenever she caught him looking at her, she’d hastily glance away, bury herself in her paperwork, or find an excuse to go somewhere else.

As he pondered all these things anew that chilly December afternoon, Scotty heaved a sigh of frustration. They were doing so well, given what happened…things had gone great until a couple weeks ago. He’d honestly thought they could go back to the way things used to be. After all, he didn’t have feelings for her, she didn’t have feelings for him…at least, he was pretty sure she didn’t. With a bit of alarm, he briefly wondered if that was it, if that was why she was being suddenly so standoffish, but then he dismissed the thought almost as soon as it occurred to him, mostly because that wouldn’t explain her physical symptoms. At any rate, what he’d done was a mistake, a simple one, one that he still cursed himself for, but one that had been fueled by alcohol and loneliness and that...that plaintive, wide-eyed…vulnerable look that never failed to reel him in like a damn catfish.

Through the cacophony of his thoughts, Scotty heard the metallic scrape of a chair against the floor. He glanced up just in time to see Miller abruptly fleeing for about the fourth time that day, and he furrowed his brow in confusion as he watched her leave. She’d been sneaking even more odd glances toward him than usual for the past couple hours, and his irritation with the whole thing was beginning to reach a fever pitch, bringing him thisclose to just pulling her into the interview room and interrogating her. He’d come to expect this sort of behavior from Lilly, naturally…but from Kat? Not in a million years. Complete withdrawal from someone wasn’t her M. O., not in the slightest. Tearing them a new one was more her style.

He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with him, and he wished she’d just hit him with it already and get it over with. He didn’t think she was mad at him, because anger wasn’t exactly the vibe he was getting from her…but, if she was, well…there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He knew that. He’d screwed up, badly, and if she simply couldn’t go back to the way things had been, if that was just too difficult for her, well, then that was a price he’d have to pay. But for the love of God, he wished she’d just tell him.

As he lowered his eyes back to his paperwork, he caught Lilly glancing at him, a quizzical expression crossing her delicate features. Oh, what, her too, now? Goddammit. He couldn’t take much more of this. Scotty was fairly certain Miller hadn’t spilled the beans to Lil about their mistake, as private as she was… and even if she had, Rush wouldn’t judge. Well…that wasn’t entirely true. She would. And probably was, right this second, he realized with a heavy dose of cynicism.

"What?" he demanded, his voice and glare both sharp as he directed his attention to his partner.

Lilly was unperturbed by his sudden outburst. "You need to go talk to her," she informed him calmly, her eyes on the pile of old newspapers she was combing through.

"Oh, like that’s gonna work," he scoffed. "She ain’t spoken to me in---"

"Scotty," Lilly interrupted as she raised her eyes to his, her voice still kind, but unquestionably firm. "Just. Go. Talk to her."

He stared back at her in defiance, but she coolly met his gaze, clear by her expression that backing down was nowhere on her agenda. Finally, knowing when to cut his losses, Scotty sighed heavily and tossed his pen to the desk as he rose from his chair.

"Fine," he agreed tersely. "Least maybe now I’ll get some damn answers."

***

After a fruitless fifteen minutes spent searching the building, he finally found Kat downstairs on the first floor, leaning wearily against the wall of a little-used hallway off the lobby. For some reason, she’d stationed herself directly in line with the front doors, thus ensuring that she caught a brief wintry blast every time someone went in or out. Somewhat mystified, and more than a bit concerned, Scotty wanted to warn her that she’d get cold, but as he approached her, he saw her looking pale and clammy despite the frequent gusts of frigid air. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was quick and shallow.

"Miller," Scotty said gently, and her eyes flew open, betraying her surprise for just a moment before she lowered them to the floor, that same inscrutable expression settling over her features. "You okay?" he asked, giving her a careful once-over.

"Yeah," she replied, though her voice was entirely too chipper to match her current appearance. "Fine."

Fine, he repeated inwardly, with a touch of bitter amusement. Gee, where in the world had he heard that before? He was willing to put up with it from Lilly, since that’s just how she was, but not here. Not now. Not from Miller.

"Don’t give me that crap, Kat," he chided, with at least moderate success in disguising his rising irritation. "I know you ain’t fine."

As expected, she glared at him, though her glare was a wan shadow of its usual self, and this both emboldened and frightened him. "You’re lookin’ kinda sick…" he pressed uncomfortably, "…you sure you’re okay? Can I get you anything? Coffee, maybe?" he asked, snatching the first idea that came to mind.

Her eyes widened, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, she turned just a shade or two paler than she already was. "Not coffee," she said vehemently, shaking her head. "Anything but coffee."

No coffee? What the hell was wrong with her?

"Okay…water, maybe? Juice? Soda?" he offered helplessly.

Kat brightened ever so slightly. "See if they got some ginger ale," she requested, her voice suddenly feeble, her eyes showing that tender flash of vulnerability, the one that had gotten them into this whole awkward mess in the first place, and Scotty tossed a brief glance in the direction of the coffee cart just outside the lobby.

"Ginger ale," he repeated with an uncertain frown as he moved toward the glass double doors. "You got it." He headed out into the spitting snow, purchased a bottle of Canada Dry from the puzzled-looking street vendor, who very likely hadn’t sold a cold drink all day, and brought it back inside to Kat. Offering him a weak smile of thanks, she quickly twisted the lid off and sipped the soda gratefully.

"Better?" Scotty asked, his eyes dark with concern. More than anything, he wanted to reach out and place a hand on her shoulder, an innocent gesture of comfort and reassurance, but he wasn’t sure if her No Touching rule was still in effect, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to press the boundaries now.

"Yeah," she replied softly, and he could tell that, somehow, the ginger ale had actually helped. With a weak, yet grateful, smile, she added, "Thanks, Scotty."

"You’re welcome," he answered, and then a silence descended upon them as he wrestled with his thoughts, circling around the questions he was dying to ask and trying to figure out the least dangerous way to go about asking them. After all, Lil had practically ordered him to go talk to Kat, and he was pretty damn sure the ginger ale had nothing to do with it. Something fishy was going on with Miller, that much was clear, and, now that she seemed a bit better, he suddenly realized that he didn’t feel quite as guilty about broaching the subject. Now, he decided, was as good a time as any. Well, here goes nothin’…

"Look," he began nervously, turning to face her as he raked a hand through his hair. "I, uh…I know you ain’t feelin’ good and all, and…I know this is probably the last thing you wanna talk about, but…" she tossed him a suspicious glance at this, and, despite her weakened state, he knew he’d better just spit it out.

"What’s goin’ on with you?" he asked, still somewhat hesitant. At her unreadable expression, he continued. "I mean, we’re hardly talkin’ anymore, and you’re lookin’ all sick, and you ain’t gettin’ any better, and…"

Kat chuckled uneasily at this, and Scotty stopped dead in his tracks. She was laughing?

"Ain’t no cure for what I got," she replied, avoiding his eyes and taking another sip of her ginger ale.

Scotty was instantly alarmed. No cure? What the hell was wrong with her? Did she have cancer? Was she dying? If she was, he thought angrily, the least she could do was quit this goddamn job, ‘cause if he only had a few months to live, he’d be damned if he---

"Scotty," she said sharply, breaking through the maelstrom of his thoughts. He looked up to find her clutching the bottle of ginger ale so tightly her knuckles had turned white, her pulse pounding at the base of her throat, and he just stared at her, trying like hell to read the mysterious look in her dark eyes.

"Relax," she reassured him with a faltering grin. "I’ll be better in another four weeks or so."

Four weeks? Where he came from, sicknesses only lasted a few days, maybe a week if it was a really bad flu or something. But four weeks? He couldn’t even begin to comprehend being ill that long.

Completely dumbfounded, Scotty could only stand there, still frantically searching Kat’s eyes. He could tell from her expression that she was clearly hoping he’d just get something, that he’d understand without her having to say anything, and, Lord, did he wish he could, but he…just didn’t.

"Four weeks?" he parroted, still fixated on that nearly unimaginable number. "What the hell’s wrong with you that it’s gonna take four weeks to get over?"

"I said four weeks to get better," she retorted, but her tone was far more timid than usual. "But it’s not goin’ away anytime soon."

"Kat," Scotty burst out helplessly. "For the love of God, would you just tell me what’s goin’ on with you?"

To his amazement, rather than shoot back the volley of angry snark he expected, she merely smiled up at him again, the smile tentative, almost girlish, her eyes shining with something he’d never seen there before. She opened her mouth to say something, closed it again, then took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly.

"I’m pregnant, Scotty," she informed him softly. "Eight weeks along." With that, she gave him an anxious, yet penetrating look, willing him with her gaze to grasp the significance of what she was telling him.

The universe came to a screeching halt with those six deafeningly quiet words. Scotty could have sworn his heart stopped beating altogether, and he felt his eyes widening to approximately the size of dinner plates.

"Pregnant?" he tried to croak, but he couldn’t, for the life of him, make any sound come out of his mouth other than a strange, hideously embarrassing squeaking noise.

Fortunately, Kat didn’t notice. In fact, she didn’t even seem to be paying any attention to him anymore. Her eyes now riveted on her ginger ale, she issued another nervous laugh. "God, I must be the most fertile woman on the planet," she joked uncomfortably. "Eleven years of celibacy, and first crack outta the box? Bam. Stick turns blue."

Scotty was still standing there, staring at her in disbelief, completely flabbergasted. The floor had just been yanked out from beneath him by a cruel God who took some sort of perverse pleasure in watching him hurtle blindly through outer space, and all he could do was stare. He knew he should say something to Kat, he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t come up with anything to say, not with the way his thoughts had begun to whirl around in his mind, faster and faster, until they became a tornado, making him suddenly breathless and dizzy. He tried his damnedest to snatch some small bit of coherence out of the noisy, whirling chaos, but nothing would come, and as he felt the walls closing in, the room getting smaller and smaller…infinitely, frighteningly smaller…he knew he had to get out of there before the damn thing collapsed on him completely.

"Scotty?" he heard Kat ask, from what sounded like a million miles away.

He thought he might have managed to mumble an apology as he turned around and stumbled through the glass doors without a backward glance. He certainly hoped he had. But he had no way of being sure.

***

A while later, after driving aimlessly around the city, trying to make some sense, any sense, of what Kat had just told him, Scotty found himself parked on a bridge overlooking the Schuylkill River. It could’ve taken anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours to get there, he had no idea…nor was he sure why, exactly, his car had brought him to this particular spot. He guessed, though, that it was because one thought had finally managed to crystallize enough for him to snatch it out of the whirlwind and look at it…and he supposed that was why he was here, in this chillingly familiar place, on the bridge where Elisa had jumped to her death that cold day almost four years ago.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

That was the lone thought he’d managed to articulate.

It just…wasn’t supposed to be like this.

As he climbed out of the car, took a few trudging, reluctant steps, and leaned on the metal bridge railing with a sigh, staring into the grayish water of the river below that perfectly reflected the leaden December sky, that was the one snatch of coherence that kept ringing out, over and over, echoing in the chamber of his mind.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He was supposed to be having a baby with Elisa. They were supposed to be married, and happy, and living in a cozy little row house close to their families. And she was supposed to come bounding into the bedroom one morning with that little stick in her hand, squealing for joy as she pounced on him to wake him up. Or wrapping up a pair of baby booties and putting them on his place at the dinner table. Or giving him some cheesy "World’s Best Dad" coffee mug as a Christmas gift. Or whispering it in his ear one night after they made love. She was supposed to be alive, and whole, and healthy, and they were supposed to be together, dammit. He wasn’t supposed to be here, standing on a haunted, lonely bridge railing, staring into the murky waters that had claimed the woman he loved, trying to fill the gaping hole she’d left in his life with meaningless sex and drunken one-night stands.

Kat wasn’t supposed to be having his baby. Elisa was.

And that thought, for whatever reason, was cementing the truth in Scotty’s sinking heart…the truth that Elisa, his Bella, was really and truly gone. The life they’d dreamed of together for well over a decade would never happen. Ever.

Scotty knew that. Of course he knew that. Hell, his brain had known it for years…but as he stood there overlooking the water, his hands clinging to the last solid thing on Earth that had felt Elisa’s touch, he realized that his heart had never quite absorbed it. From the moment she’d first heard the voices, he’d doggedly dragged her to doctor after doctor, to drug after drug, in an increasingly futile attempt to get back what they’d had. Finally, Elisa herself had forced him to stop and accept the truth: she wasn’t going to get better. And once he finally stopped running and turned to look that truth square in the face… it was so painful that he’d had to break it off with her. He couldn’t keep hoping, couldn’t keep trying…not when she herself was giving up. He couldn’t ride the roller coaster with her anymore. He had to move on.

But if he hadn’t, he’d chastised himself over and over through the years, she might still be here. If he hadn’t left, if he hadn’t abandoned her, she might have called him that fateful morning when the giants came to claim her one final time. He might have been able to rush over to her apartment and calm her down, as he had thousands of times before. Failing that, he at least might have made it to the bridge just in time to yank her back before she jumped, or dive in after her and pull her to safety...

But he wasn’t there. He’d abandoned Elisa to her giants, and they’d finally won. They’d taken her from him. And if he hadn’t deserted her, if he hadn’t screwed up, then she’d still be here… and he wouldn’t be having a baby with Kat Miller.

Dammit, Valens, he griped inwardly, smacking the cold metal bridge railing with both hands, trying to blame the tears he suddenly felt stinging his eyes on the frigid wind and not his swirling emotions. The anguished memories threatening to overwhelm him, he forcefully shut the door on them, yet again…and then found his thoughts switching suddenly to his co-worker, his friend, the woman who’d be paying for his mistakes for the rest of her life. Kat was an innocent bystander caught in his crossfire. She’d needed a friend that night, and that’s all he’d intended to be, but a few drinks and a little vulnerability was all it took for him to make the same damn mistake he’d made so many times in his life. Would he never learn?

Kat already had a kid, he reminded himself bitterly. Already had an unplanned daughter from another jackass who’d taken advantage of her. She was already struggling to make ends meet, trying like hell to juggle work and family, her life was already complicated enough…and now she was stuck with a baby. His baby.

His baby.

Scotty froze as another thought began to crystallize. That was his child. Whether or not he or she would be born to Elisa, that child they’d dreamed of was suddenly a part of the world, growing quietly in the womb of his co-worker…his friend. A part of him was there, a part of that future, that family he’d always thought was out there. But now, despite everything, it wasn’t just ‘out there’ anymore…it was right here. Maybe it wasn’t ideal, maybe it wasn’t the best for anyone involved…but he could damn well try his best to make it better.

If she’ll ever speak to me again, he thought, with a heavy dose of cynicism and self-loathing. After the way he’d reacted in the lobby when she told him the news, he was suddenly certain that she never would, and he realized he wouldn’t blame her a bit. She’d tried her best, she’d told him as directly and honestly as she could…and he’d turned tail and run like the chickenshit he was. He’d abandoned Elisa, he’d abandoned Kat, and now, by default, he’d abandoned his own flesh and blood.

With a frustrated growl, Scotty launched himself away from the railing and back into the car, where he peeled away from the curb with a screeching of tires. He’d never been more furious with himself. His life was a mess, and he’d come to accept that, but now the lives of his good friend, and his child, were also a mess, because of his screw-ups. No matter what he did, they just kept happening, just kept snowballing, just kept getting worse and worse and fucking worse.

He didn’t get like this often, but when he did, he knew where to go. Knew what to do. The choking, burning anger was getting the better of him, making it impossible for him to think clearly, to try and figure out how to make the best of this situation, to make it so maybe Kat didn’t hate him, to determine some way she might let him in enough so he could help her raise their child. And he needed to think clearly to be able to do any of that.

So he went to the one place he knew he could count on having some time to think. The place he didn’t think anyone from work knew about. The place he’d been retreating to for years when things got to be more than he could handle, where no one knew who he was and no one cared, where he could indulge his anger, wallow in it, rejoice in it…and then get it out of his system. He’d always done his best thinking while he was in an isolated corner, breathing hard, drenched in sweat, beating the crap out of a punching bag. He was headed for the one place he could count on to get his thoughts and emotions and all the chaos in his life to resemble some kind of order.

He was headed for the gym.