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Sarah winds up at S’s after another round with Vic. Somewhere between the third and fourth line they’d gotten to arguing about the next job—one thing led to another and his fist found its way to her cheek. She tries not to think about it, about any of it.
Vic says he loves her and Sarah thinks that eventually it will be enough.
She makes her way to the bathroom; her stomach hurts but Sarah thinks it’s just the fight and the drugs causing it to do somersaults. She’s been sick more often lately—but every time she tries to get clean, to be better for Kira and all that shit, Vic’s there and—
It’s just easier to fall back into their routine. And Vic knows all of her shit—and he’s still there, he loves her so much that it makes him do this shit.
You’re an orphan, Sarah. Nobody wanted you. Except me. I want you. I love you.
Sarah doesn’t argue. She knows she has Fe and Kira, but she can't figure out why they haven’t left her by now. Fe is too fucking hopeful, always seeing some good in her that doesn’t bloody well exist. A good person doesn’t steal 10k from the father of their kid because he was getting too close. A good person doesn’t run out on their kid when shite gets hard.
Kira still looks at her like she’s her world. Sarah wants to be that person, but she’s not. She’s the fuck-up who can’t figure anything out and runs first. But maybe if she can get a handle on her life, get some money, find a place, get clean, then maybe it’ll all be worth it.
Maybe someday she’ll be worth it.
“Stupid, bloody stupid,” Sarah mutters as she fumbles around the cupboards. She’s done this so often that Siobhan should just keep the damn thing in order, but she never does. After a moment, Sarah sees what she needs and reaches for some peroxide and a bit of gauze. Her fingers coil around the bottle and a couple tampons spill out of the shelf and onto the floor.
Sarah picks it up and frowns, rolling the thing between her fingers; it’s been a while. Her brain does the mental math and suddenly her every muscle in her body tenses.
Shite.
It’s been three months and even with all the fighting and the coke and the cons and the pills, Sarah knows. She’s been through this before and she can connect the dots once they’ve been put in front of her like this.
She’s pregnant with Vic’s fucking kid.
“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit,” Sarah repeats as her hand moves to her stomach. Shite.
Sarah bites down on her lip, nearly breaking the skin in an effort to keep her tears at bay. She’d come here for some bandages and a moment of peace, and now she’s got more problems.
Vic’s baby. Vic’s bloody baby.
The thought alone causes her to wretch, the contents of her stomach spilling out of her, and Sarah knows that it's not the drugs that've been causing her to get sick more often. It’s Vic and his bloody obsession with not using protection.
There’s a knock at the door and Sarah feels the blood rush out of her—someone’s here. Not just someone, Siobhan. The last thing she needs right now is a lecture about what a fuck up she is—running cons, leaving her kid, dealing drugs. She’s not meant for a square life, hell, she’s not meant for much of anything at all.
“You’ve been in there for half an hour, Sarah.”
“I know, okay? I’m just looking for somethin’.” Sarah barks, hoping that Siobhan isn’t in the mood to argue with her, but knowing she isn’t that bloody lucky.
“I can hear you hurling behind the door,” Siobhan sighs. There’s a scrape at the lock and Sarah freezes, knowing S is picking it. She eyes the sink for anything heavy to block her path, but nothing is available to her. The door twists and her stomach sinks, S is on her way in and there is nothing Sarah can do about it.
“Leave me alone,” Sarah repeats once Siobhan is inside the door. She can feel S’s eyes burning holes into her and all she wants to do is find Sherry and escape the latest Sarah shitestorm, at least for a little while.
“Are you drunk? Around your daughter?”
“I‘m not on anythin’, okay?” Sarah snaps, irritated. “I just need some bloody privacy please.”
“This is my house Sarah—and while I may let you stay here for Kira,“ Siobhan starts and she is immediately done with this shite. She didn't come here for a lecture, or to realize that she’s gone and tied herself to Vic worse than she already is. Sarah came here for some bandages and peroxide, that's it.
“I didn’t take anything!” Sarah grabs at a box of tampons and throws them against the door, watching as they all tumble from the box and land like bullet casings around the two of them. Her throat burns and she swats angrily at some tears that fall down her cheeks and she tenses as S sinks to the floor and wraps her arms around her.
“You alright? Let me get a look at you.“ Sarah inhales sharply as Siobhan shifts against her and turns to look at her face. Sarah winces as S gently taps at the bruise and take inventory of the damage to her cheek and then looks at her with a frown on her face, which only makes a few more tears fall. She hates this, being vulnerable, when S acts like her real mum and not someone collecting checks for being her and Fe’s caretaker. “Vic?”
“He’s workin’ on his anger issues.”
“Is he?” Siobhan clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, a knowing look on her face. Sarah frowns, her defenses rising as she pushes away from S—Siobhan isn’t her bloody mother, and her concern is bullshit.
This is what Siobhan does—always getting in the middle of her life and judging her. S just wants to make her something she isn’t and throws every bloody choice she makes back in her face. It’s always Kira this and Kira that and what kind of example is she setting? Sarah is bloody trying as best she can, but it’s never gonna measure up in Siobhan’s eyes.
Vic doesn’t question her bloody choices or the way she raises her damn kid. He likes her sober and loves her high and Sarah likes escaping any chance she gets. Plus he wants her, which is more than Siobhan does—and it’s bloody nice to be wanted instead of left out in the streets and arrested for it.
She still hasn’t forgiven S for that.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, having a baby with him, she thinks for a second, before brushing her fingers against the top of her head, where a bump is starting to form. No, no kids. She’s not bringing a kid around Vic, just like she keeps him away from Kira. Sarah knows that much.
“What d’ya care anyway, yeah? You’re not my mum.”
Siobhan shifts closer and Sarah pushes away. There’s no use in denying it, not when they have years of history and bullshit that proves her right. S has stuck around, more than Sarah can say for the others, but the older she gets, the more they drift away. “Sarah—“
“I’m pregnant, S,” Sarah snaps, not in the mood for another version of Siobhan lying, even if she registers the hurt on S’s face. She can’t take it back, and there are too many land mines between them to ever apologize for something. Not before Siobhan does, anyway. “Vic’s gonna be a father, yeah?”
“Jesus bloody Christ, Sarah. What were you thinking?” Siobhan yells, shooting up from the ground and running a hand over her face. S hadn’t gotten a chance with Kira to react. She’d just shown up one day, once she couldn’t hide it anymore, with nowhere else to go. Fe’d still been in high school and she’d kept the truth of it from him. He didn’t need to know how much of a fuck up she was—even now, she’s glad none of them know just how she and Cal met.
“I don’t know! I don’t—“
“How long?” Siobhan asks, some of the fire leaving her voice and Sarah knows that S believes her.
“I—three months. I think. I just put it together,” Sarah admits. Siobhan frowns, but doesn’t question it further, much to Sarah’s relief.
“We need to get you to the doctor, then. Get a check up.”
Sarah runs a hand through her hair and frowns. She knows what she wants—and what she doesn’t, and S might not agree with her bloody decision. But she needs to tell her anyway—she can’t do this to a kid. She can’t. “I—I don’t know, S.”
“What do you mean you don’t know, Sarah?”
“I—I don’t think I can do this,” Sarah mutters and Siobhan’s brows furrow in confusion. Great. She isn’t getting it and Sarah isn’t sure she has the stones to explain it to her.
“You had one already—“
“No. I don’t think I can have Vic’s baby, S.”
“Sarah—“
“Don’t lecture me. Please,” Sarah interrupts, unsure if Siobhan was about to criticize her or not. “Vic is a shithead, yeah? What’s he gonna do to a kid?”
Siobhan doesn’t say anything, folding her arms over her chest and sitting down on the lip of the tub. It almost makes it worse, her not saying anything, even though Sarah had asked her not to give her a lecture. She makes a note of it, something to add to her list of reasons to get out—S has seen some shite in her day, battered women and all that. If S isn’t saying anything then maybe—but no, that’s stupid.
She’s stupid, didn’t even finish high school and all that. But Sarah knows enough to know that she can’t have Vic’s kid.
Sarah bites her lip and inhales, not sure if she should tell S all of it, but she’s gone this far, so what choice does she have. She just hopes that S “And I’ve been usin’. That’s three months of coke and pills and shite. They say kids get all sorts of fucked up from that, yeah?”
“Jesus, Sarah! You’re a smart girl—why are you acting so stupid?” Siobhan shouts, and Sarah cowers under her gaze. She should be above this by now, but S has a way of getting to her, even when she swears that she’s done with her bullshit. “I know about the drinking, but what have I told you about that—you're off getting high while your daughter grows up without a mother.“
“I wasn’t tryin’ to get knocked up!” Sarah screams, ripping at her hair as she tries to make this all go away. “Can you stop bein' a bitch and be my mum for one bloody second?”
“What do you want me to do, Sarah?” Siobhan asks, softer this time and thankfully not pointing out the fact that only moments ago Sarah had said she wasn’t her bloody mother.
“Tell me it’s okay. Yeah? That this is the right thing.”
“There’s no right or wrong in this, Chicken. Whatever you decide is the right thing—and Sarah, I will support you either way.”
Sarah scoffs at that. Siobhan’s version of support is always contingent upon agreeing with whatever Siobhan thinks is best.
“I mean it, Sarah. I—I’m proud of you for thinking about this, being responsible.”
“If I were responsible, I wouldn’t have gotten knocked up in the first place.”
“Well, no,” Siobhan concedes. “But thinking about the child’s welfare is an act of love, Sarah.”
The for once hangs silently between them.
“I’m a shit mother, aren't I?”
“No you’re not,” Siobhan sighs, “Kira likes it when you’re around. I wish you’d believe that.”
Sarah ignores Siobhan. She can’t deal with that shite right now and instead focuses on the immediate problem. “I need to get rid of it, S."
"Are you certain? There’s no—"
"Yeah," Sarah interrupts, feeling surer of anything than she has all day. A part of her feels awful at the way a weight lifts from her shoulders and the lightness she feels at the decision. But then she thinks of Kira and the life she’s been able to have because Vic isn’t part of it. That she hadn’t gotten into coke and shite when she met Cal. And that Sarah still leaves Kira behind and runs when things get too hard. She loves her daughter, she does, but sometimes it’s so bloody hard.
This kid, with her as a mum and Vic as a dad would be fucked from the start. Sarah would want to run and there’d be nowhere to run to, with Vic tying them both to him and his bullshit. She stays with Vic by choice, because he’s what all she deserves, with her history. But she isn’t willing to tie someone else to this, running cons and dodging fists. Especially not a kid.
"Well, come on, then. Get your coat and I'll take you to the clinic," Siobhan says and Sarah wipes her eyes, while eying her suspiciously. There are appointments and shite for this type of thing. “My old friend Linda, she can take you. It’s a private facility—no questions and no paperwork.”
Sarah nods and accepts S’ offer. She’s always got odd friends roaming around—Benjamin and the lot of them, all drinking beer and talking about the good old days without ever saying what those days were. When they were kids, she and Fe would try and guess at what kind of secret life Siobhan had, but neither of them had gotten close to the truth.
"What about Kira?"
"We'll get Felix to pick her up," Siobhan says and hands Sarah her coat. S never wastes any time, once a plan is in place and firmed up. It’s one of the only things they have in common—not wasting time debating.
"Okay,” Sarah agrees, taking the coat. It feels like a temporary truce between them, this moment, but she already knows that in a few days it’ll be over and things will be back to normal.
Siobhan doesn’t get it, the way she feels about Vic, about herself. But thankfully, it seems, she gets this enough to understand exactly what she needs right now. She opens her mouth to mutter her thanks and the words die in her throat, unsaid and dangling betweent them like so much else. One day she might bring herself to say thank you and I'm sorry and Siobhan might say it back, maybe slip an I love you in there that Sarah dares to believe is true, but she knows enough to know that day is not today.
It isn't tomorrow, either.