Jul. 15th, 2006

stbethadettes: (...what?)
"What's happening?"

Nobody's answering her goddamn questions. Fucking Sister Ober and the woman with the bun and glasses are just staring at the screen.

"Is... is something wrong with my boy?"

Sister Ober -- even more stoic and stony-faced that before, if that's possible -- turns to her again. "I'm afraid so. Your boy is a girl."

It's like she's not even speaking English; her words make about as much sense to Beth as the German the other woman was speaking.

Her mouth opens in surprise, and as she stares down at her belly, it seems like a whole lot longer than it must actually be before the meaning of the words sinks in. "...What?"

But it's the Sister's turn to make demands. "Where did this child come from?"

Beth unconsciously shrinks into herself a little.

She wants to cry. For the first time in years, she wants to cry. It's not a boy, and she'd been so sure. But she doesn't know any doctors or scientists to make up something believable about. She also knows what happened to most -- if not all -- of the sperm banks after the plague so there's no thinking fast there. She has no fucking clue what she could say that Sister Ober would believe.

All she knows is she can't tell the truth. "I..."
stbethadettes: (glaring)
Medieval Castle, the outside of the building says above the main doors.

Some place for a center of operations for Sister Ober and her Swiss Guard stooges.

At least they gave Beth a black maternity dress, something she can actually fit in, and had a bag with her other clothes (and Yorick's letter) in it for her to take back.

Maybe they're not monsters, like Sister Ober said, but Beth can't make herself feel all that thankful.

It looks like morning's coming, and she's finally getting a chance to feel that lack of easy, undisturbed sleep.


stbethadettes: (Default)

January 2009

    12 3

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 21st, 2017 03:12 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios