Chapter Text
The cold blows harshly through New York City. It’s nipping temperature lowering steadily while the sun hides behind the thick clouds in the sky. A strong breeze sweeps through the city as Dani steps out of her apartment. It picks her thick curls off her shoulders. A single curl gets caught on her eyelash, a mild spike of painful itching distracting her from her mission. She’s frustrated, her nerves grated to their raw ends. She suspects that aggravation is not going to end soon.
“Detective,” Manuel greets from behind the counter. He spares her a hasty glance before looking back down at the textbook he has on the counter. She has known Manuel since the first week she moved into her apartment. Manuel’s father owns the convenience store as it was passed down from his father to him. Now, Manuel’s father hopes to pass it down to Manuel. Only, Manuel wants to be a teacher. Still, he spends every night, four p.m. to twelve a.m., working the shop. He hates it but his father means more to him than spending the weekend terrorizing the neighborhood with his friends.
Dani needs one thing. Masterfully, she glides along the aisles. She gets a tub of Ben & Jerry’s, brownie bits because it’s been a long and bad day. She deserves the brownie to ice cream ratio. That and, hopefully, Manuel will look over what she’s really here for.
Pregnancy tests.
Manuel’s hand hovers over the box, his eyes glancing up at her. A silent, quick judgment on how far he can push her on the matter at hand. The matter under his hand. “You good,” he asks, placing both items in the same bag. He hadn’t seen Dani in some time but he knew well enough that she hadn’t been with anyone, seriously, since Estime. Unless, of course, the brownie bits Ben & Jerry’s counts. She’s always had a stable relationship there but it’s a bit one-sided.
Dani sighs heavily and wonders if she should unload her stresses on a seventeen-year-old with enough on his plate. She glances down at his textbook, math problems cover the waxy pages. Nodding, she retrieves the bag from the counter. “I’m good. Are you though? That looks pretty complex.” She motions to the textbook and Manuel’s eyes squint.
He nods, his mind no longer wrapped up on the pregnancy test. “It’s calculus,” he explains with a sigh. The low light of the shop enhancing the bags under their eyes, the tired bloodshot scleras. “It’s driving me crazy,” he adds, frowning down at the textbook. “I’ve got a test tomorrow.”
Dani hums, shaking her head. She doesn’t miss high school. “I’ll leave you to that.” He smiles at her and she feels his eyes on her as she leaves. As she climbs the stairs back to her apartment, she realizes she’s got a test too and for the first time in her life she’s not sure if she wants to pass it or not.
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She locks her apartment door behind her. Stopping only at the refrigerator to collect a half-finished Gatorade. It had been in the fridge for… well, she’s not sure but she’s hoping it’ll speed this process on rather quickly.
One line.
She holds the test in one hand, head tilted. “Oh,” she chuckles, but deep down this doesn’t feel right. It feels too easy. “That’s too good to be true.” So, in pajamas, she goes back down to the corner. She buys more tests and more Gatorade, Manuel doesn’t comment.
“This better work.” She pees on her hand a little and it’s disgusting. Then she thinks about a baby. The amount of pee and poop she’s going to get all over her hands if she’s pregnant. Five minutes pass and two lines show up. She throws the test against the wall. It breaks in half with a satisfying crack.
With her knees drawn to her chest, she sobs into her knees. She loses track of time before she stands back up. Pulling her hair into a loose bun, she drinks another Gatorade, preparing for another test.
Just to be sure.
-------1st month---------
“These are probably better,” Manuel holds up a bottle of prenatal vitamins. They’re pink, unlike the blue bottle Dani is reading the back of. “I did… some research.” The comment slips right past Dani, she’s caught up more in why there are so many options. She takes the bottle from Manuel and puts in her little basket. “Have you gone to the doctor yet,” he asks.
She frowns, she’d read some blogs. Mostly, she’s looked at corporate women in business breaking down how to hide a baby bump in each trimester. She hadn’t thought about the doctors yet, not once. She can’t help the blush that creeps up her cheeks,” uh no.”
Manuel frowns but doesn’t say anything.
“So, how’d that test go?” He steps out of the way and allows her better access to the end of the aisle. She needs to pick up healthier snacks, things to keep the babu healthy and a few of the extra ‘baby pounds’ off.
Manuel grins at her,” about as well as yours.” She ignores his comment and he fills her in. “I got an A- but considering the class is mostly self-taught, I’m counting it as a win.” His proud little smirk melts her heart and she wonders how she’s going to pass the next few months with raging hormones. “How are… your things?”
She elects to ignore his little in tone, the inclination that he’s talking about any one of the hundred problems she has right now. Especially, the ones she told him about while tipsy on box wine three months ago. More so, the one growing in her right now. “I’m fine, Manuel.” Except she’s not. She isn’t going to tell him that though. “Ring me up?”
He looks defeat, probably hoping those raging hormones would loosen her tongue a bit. No such luck.
“Be good,” she says as she leaves him. She rolls her eyes towards the sky, what a little shit.
------2nd month----------
“You okay?” The small tilt of Malcolm’s head gives away that he already knows the right answer. His eyes are stupidly blue and full of compassion and genuine interest. It makes her stomach tie itself into tight little knots. Her chest feeling cracked, nearly broken as her heart races. “You don’t look like you feel well,” he adds.
She doesn’t feel good. Her mother called last night and that call ended in mutual tears and a frustrated goodbye. There’s a box of positive pregnancy tests in her bathroom. Estime won’t pick up her calls and now Malcolm… Well, he’s looking at her with those stupidly, adorable blue eyes all concerned and caring and it’s not helping. “It’s been,” she considers lying. Then she remembers that little head tilt and knows there’s no point. “I’m exhausted and this case isn’t helping.”
He sighs in agreeance, settling himself on the edge of her desk. “Wanna talk about,” he offers but it’s like bait. He’s luring her in, even if he is genuinely interested. A part of her does want to tell him. To unload all this weight she’s carrying but she hasn’t even told her mother about the baby yet. If anything, her mother and JT should know before Malcolm does.
Right?
She pulls herself to her feet, stuffing her paperwork back into its manilla folder. She glances at him only once, knowing her mouth will come unglued if she looks too long or spares a second glance. Those blue eyes will get to her. Remind her that he cares, that he’s more than willing to let her air her dirty laundry. Why does he have to be so damn charming?
“You okay?” He seems to be asking her that a lot lately.
“I’ll be right back,” her tight smile doesn’t bid well with him. It… it isn’t right. Dani’s smile makes the skin around her eyes lift and crinkle. It’s contagious to everyone in the room. The corner of the right side of her face always lifts a little higher than the left, crooked. This smile was forced, it wasn’t real.
She comes back from the bathroom ten minutes later. Malcolm notices how ginger she is with her stomach, a hand half raised to protect it. His mind races to fill in the problem, the anxiety, and concern eating his own stomach away. She’s not okay and she’s lying. Dani never lies, at least not to him. It’s like, around him, she says every thought that happens to cross her mind. She leans into him, his touches. Of late, she’s silent and avoidant.
Has he done something?
“She was twenty-four,” Edrisa hands them the paperwork. The killer had brutally torn apart a young woman, defiling her in such a way that made her unrecognizable. Leaving Edrisa to put her back together and take hair follicles to give their young victim a name. “Her name was Samantha Hinegrad,” Edrisa hands Gil a picture so he can pin it to their board. “She was a mother of two.”
The sudden paleness of Dani’s features all makes sense. The wrist she keeps pressed to her lower stomach, the long bathroom breaks, and the near gag at lunch when JT reheated eggs. “You’re pregnant,” the words leave his mouth softly. It’s still an accusation and they all know who at.
All eyes turn to Dani, her paler getting suddenly worse. “W-What?”
They both stutter. JT’s face is a cloud of mixed emotion, aggravation and confusion. It makes Malcolm uneasy, suddenly thrown off. It does the same to Dani. She stands too quickly, her stomach hurting and she knows another bout of morning sickness is washing over her.
She’s hurt, too. Naive hope had left her to believe she could do this on her own. She could keep it her little secret. It would be easy, she coached herself each morning. Just as easy as getting knocked up in the first place. Then, she had to put up her tighter fitting t-shirts, a perfect little bump protruding from her favorite. Each week, was a little harder than the one before.
Then there was the morning sickness. That was new to this week and whoever dubbed it ‘morning’ sickness was a cruel, mistaken bastard.
Her chair falls over as she rushes to the bathroom. She falls to her knees, hard. Nothing comes up because she hasn’t eaten since this morning. She threw up what little of the bagel she could get down. Miserable, she leans against the toilet. Letting the cool porcelain touch the bare skin where her shirt has risen up.
“Here,” warmth. Something warm is pressed into her palm and she realizes its a heating pad. A hand eases it’s way around her torso, pressing it to her stomach. The room smells of Irish Spring and fruit. Malcolm. “Have you eaten?” She allows him to pull her away from the toilet, leaning back against his boney chest instead. She shakes her head.
He hums thoughtfully. His sensitive stomach finally coming in handy for something. “Let’s get you off the floor, yeah?” He eases her up, bearing her weight as her knees tremble underneath her. “How about some Gatorade and saltines?”
She nods her head, resigning herself to being taken care of.
“You okay?” Gil and JT are waiting just outside the doors. She wonders if they fought over who would come in to check on her. When neither step forward to peel her away from Malcolm’s side, she has her answer.
Malcolm mumbles something but her attention is split. She only feels the deep rattle of his voice in his chest. “Alright,” he leads her to her chair not moving away until she’s completely settled. “Saltines and Gatorade, you need or want anything else?”
As he looks at her, crouched down on his knees she has to force her tears at bay. She can’t do this alone, she realizes. She doesn’t have to either. Malcolm smiles at her as he rises back to his feet, heading for his coat to head out into the cold, for her. JT and Gil keep nearby too, sparing her glances and small smiles.
She’s got a family. Her baby will have one too.