Addison Winchester (Now Completed)

Chapter 2

It didn't take me long to get to the place I needed to be, in fact it took a lot less time then I thought it would. My fingers drummed against the steering wheel as I attempted to find a place to park. Except every spot for this damn clinic was taken and I ended up just parking at the diner across the street and walked over. On my way over I shrugged my jacket off and tied it around my waist leaving me in a tank top.

I got a few odd looks from people that were walking down the street, I guess that the people here weren't that used to tattoos of pentagrams aka a devil's trap or long jagged scars running down my back. I had gotten them from being on the receiving end of a werewolf's claw. I had gotten the tattoo on the left side of my chest right before I ran away from from my brothers and father as a last goodbye to the life.

A large gust of cool air hit me as I pulled the front door open and I almost had to take a step back. The room was completely filled with women. Most of them were far into their pregnancies but a few of them were holding onto babies or small toddlers. I guess you could say that I have slight anxiety when it comes to children. Sam was only two years younger to me so I don't really remember him as a baby.

After I signed in I scanned through the room looking for somewhere to sit, after coming up short I settled for leaning against the wall near the front door where I came in. I crossed my arms tightly across my chest and licked my lips. In the four years that Spencer and I've been together we've only ever had one conversation about have kids, it was after our first pregnancy scare. He doesn't want to risk passing on his mother's disease and I'm horrified of the thing that killed my mother. But that was two years ago and I'm really hoping that his thinking had changed because this isn't a scare.

"How far along are ya?" It took me a few seconds to realize the question was directed towards me. The woman was looking at me with an amused expression.

"Um, the doctor said that I was six weeks two weeks ago so I guess...eight weeks?" I tumbled over the words as they rolled from my lips and my arms tightened around my chest. She smiled, took the bag off the chair that was next to her and gestured for me to take a seat. She reminded me a lot of Missouri Mosley, one of the many people that my father had dropped me off with while he was out hunting. I wonder what she's up to now, maybe I can give her a call.

"You don't look very happy about it." She gave me a look that said I could tell her anything, not that I was going to but a friendly face didn't look all that bad at the moment.

"No, I'm not upset...I mean I'm not...I don't know." I wet my lips, Spencer said that it's something I do when I'm nervous and for the longest time I didn't believe him but at the moment I don't know what to think anymore. "My...boyfriend and I have talked about it but we decided that it wasn't the best idea this time in out lives."

"Well hon, there's a very big difference between talking about having kids and being pregnant." She gave me a reassuring smile. "Sweetie, if this guy has anything close to a brain then he'll be thankful." She nodded like she knew for sure how everything would end.

Just as I was about to reply a nurse called for me to follow her into the back. The woman gave me a reassuring smile and patted me on the knee. She nodded her head towards the nurse. Taking a deep breath, I stood and began making my way to the door. She led me into an examination room and told me to fill out a form for the doctor before leaving.

After reading over the paper I filled out what I could and waited on the Doctor. My eyes kept moving from the door to the clock as my feet swung back and forth underneath the table I was currently occupying. The counter on the other side of the room held a clipboard and several jars filled with different doctor stuff. I couldn't stop myself form stressing about the time, I needed to meet Spencer at noon and it was already nine thirty, I don't know how long this appointment is supposed to be but there is no way I can be late. It would only make him more suspicious then he already is.

I forced myself to take a deep breath and forced my body to relax. I looked around the room again and this time wondered about what all of the 'doctor stuff' was for.

"Sorry about the wait." A woman, I'm guessing the doctor, said as she hurried into the room and quietly shut the door behind her. "I'm Dr. Reynolds, I'll be your OB/GYN." She gave me a warm smile and pulled over the stool that was in the corner of the room. She held a file in her hand and scanned thought it for a few seconds before shutting it. "Okay, so your file says that's your eight weeks along and that's it." She wore a pristine white lab coat and a pair of glasses as on the bridge of her nose.

"Well when I...when I went to the clinic in Vegas, they did a test and made an appointment for two weeks later and that was then end of it." I folded my hands in my lap and looked around the room. Posters were hung all over the walls, smiling children and women were all I could see and I'm not sure how that made me feel. Most of my childhood consisted of different motel rooms, of course my bothers and I had our fare share of laughs and smiles but it wasn't all sun shine and rainbows especially after I ran away. I spent most of the first four months dodging my father's attempts to find me. There were a few times where I just wanted him to get me, I wanted to stop running but every time I came close to being found I always changed my mind at the last minute, something inside of me would convince the rest of me that everything I was doing was for the better. I wanted a real life, with a husband and a family and I knew the only way I could ever have that is if I ran. Being a hunter tends to put a lot of pressure on relationships, not to mention kids. Now look at me, everything I want is on a plate in front of me and I'm horrified of what's going to happen if I take it, not that I really have a choice at this point.

"That makes sense, most first appointments happen between eight to ten weeks." She placed the folder next to me on the bed thing, the white paper crinkled under the folder. "Now, lets start with a few questions." I could tell her smile was supposed to make me feel better but it only made me want to hurl even more then I already wanted to. "Is this your first pregnancy?"

"Yes." I nodded and continued to swing my feet under the table. "We had a scare about two years ago but it was a false alarm."

"Okay, what about genetics? Are there any diseases that run in your or your partner's family? Do either of you have any special medical conditions?"

"I don't know about my side, I grew up with my father and he wasn't one to talk about things like that." I told her, "but Spencer's mother suffers from paranoid schizophrenia. As for medical conditions with the two of us? All clear." I wiped my hand out in front of me as if to say everything was out on the table.

"And he doesn't have the disease?" She asked, looking down at her clipboard.

"Not that we know of. He's in his early twenty's and he said that he could start showing signs at any time. That he would more then likely be okay if he made it to thirty." I could hear the panic in my voice and I wanted to hit myself for it. Usually I could hold myself together better then this but my emotions seemed to be getting the better of me lately. My hands rubbed against my arms to chase off the chill that this topic always brought over me.

"He's right. If he does end up taking after his mother then your baby has a six percent chance of contracting the disease, and if he doesn't then the baby has a five percent chance. I wouldn't be all the worried but there is a chance." Spencer always made it seem like if we had a baby then they would have no way of not being sick. Hearing the doctor say that there's less then a ten percent chance of them having it was like popping a balloon that took up all the space in my chest. "What about medications? Vitamins? Do you take any?"

"Nope, I drink coffee, but that's about it."

"Well, you're going to have to switch to decaf if you haven't already. Its not clear how much caffeine is bad for the baby but it's better to err on the side of caution so do your best to limit yourself to under 200mg a day that's about an 11 ounce cup of coffee." She wheeled over and grabbed a clipboard that was on the counter and flipped a few pages over the back. No coffee? Who the hell made that rule? "Now, lets run some tests."