"Carson?"

Santana's voice sounded far away, as if Carson were hearing it through some kind of extremely dense fog. His ears were ringing, and all he could hear clearly through the noise were her words, echoing over and over.

"I think I might be pregnant."

Pregnant.

PREGNANT.

He wasn't sure whether to scream, faint, or run away. He knew that he couldn't believe what she was saying. It just couldn't be possible. She must have been fucking with him. Or he was still drunk. Or his hangover was making him hallucinate, right?

….. Right?

"Jesus Christ, are you even listening to me, Emo? I said I might be pregnant," Santana repeated irritably, poking him roughly in the shoulder.

"I heard you!" Carson snapped back, brushing her hand away from him and finally meeting her eyes. "I.. but... you can't be. How? And how do you know it's even mine?"

Santana's hand came up and slapped him hard across the face almost immediately after the words had left his mouth, and he recoiled, holding his stinging cheek in one hand as he glared angrily at her.

"Ow!" he exclaimed. "What the fuck?"

"Ok, first of all, if you ever call me a slut again, that will be the last day you own an intact pair of man berries, you feel me?" Santana replied, her eyes flashing with anger. "I know it's yours because you're the only person with a dick that I've been with in a long, long while. And secondly... last month? Broken condom? God, you're slow," she continued. "Last time I checked, uninhibited jizz can definitely be a one way ticket to baby town."

"But you said you were on the pill!" Carson exclaimed, his hangover forgotten, panic starting to set in now that his brain was fully grasping the gravity of the situation. "I told you the condom broke, and you said it was fine!"

Santana crossed her arms and looked down at the ground, leaning up against the wall with a tired sigh. "I don't know. I had just started a new birth control, and I thought it should have kicked in by then, and... fuck, I was drunk, Carson. And what difference does it make now? The shit has already hit the fan."

Carson brought his hand up to his face, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as he struggled to keep himself and his voice at a reasonably calm level. "Ok," he said slowly. "Are you positive that you're... you know? I mean, did you take a test?"

Santana nodded. "Yeah, I stole one last night and took it, and it came out positive, but..."

"Did you take it right?" Carson interrupted, desperately grasping at any straw he could that would mean he could panic less about this.

"I'm not a fucking idiot. Of course I took it right," Santana snapped. "I don't know, the box said something about a possible false positive..."

"False positive!" Carson practically squeaked, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he sagged against the wall. "That's great!"

"Excuse me?" asked Santana, narrowing her eyes at him. "What's so fucking great about it? I've been tired and nauseous, I've been eating shit I normally hate, and the fucking test came out positive. What more proof do we need?"

"More tests," Carson said quickly, pointing his finger in the air for emphasis. "A shit ton more tests. We go to the pharmacy and we swipe every fucking test we can find. Maybe the one you took was defective and you actually have, like, a horrible intestinal disease or something."

"True... that's true..." Santana mused, beginning to pace back and forth. "I just took the one test. It could have been wrong, right?"

"Exactly," agreed Carson, holding on to the tiny sliver of hope as though his life depended on it. Which, in a manner of speaking, it sort of did. He didn't even want to think about the possibility that Santana actually was pregnant, because what the hell was he supposed to do then? What if she decided to keep it? How was he going to help support a fucking baby?

She's not pregnant. She can't be. My life would be absolutely over then, and the universe wouldn't be THAT cruel to me. Not after everything that I've already gone through in my life. My future is all that's keeping me going.

I'm sure she's not.

"It has to be wrong. I mean, my parents will probably kill me if it's not. And if they don't, my grandmother sure as fuck will," Santana continued, the slightest bit of panic beginning to show through her voice. "She's said before that if I ever got knocked up, she would beat me with a chair. And I'm only about fifty percent sure that she was joking."

"Just calm down, ok? Nobody is beating or killing anybody yet, just... just calm down," Carson said, failing spectacularly at being comforting. Santana's words gave him pause. He hadn't even considered what his own parents' reactions would be to an unplanned teenage pregnancy, but he was pretty sure it wouldn't be good. Santana wasn't the only one who needed to worry about being beaten with furniture, of that he was certain.

"I can't," Santana complained. "I can't calm down until we test again. We have to do it today. Right now. Come on, we have to get to the pharmacy," she said, yanking him by the arm and dragging him down the street. "No, wait!" she shrieked, bringing them to an abrupt stop before they'd even taken three steps. "Oh god, I can't go to any store on this side of town! What if someone sees me in the pregnancy test aisle and figures it out and they tell my parents?"

"Well, where did you get the test you took last night?" asked Carson.

"Uh... the pharmacy on the other side of town," answered Santana. "Near where your grandmother's home is. I was at Brittany's house and went there on my way home."

"Ok, fine. Let's go back there," Carson said, feeling slightly calmer now that they had a plan of action. "I'll even do the stealing, if you want."

The front door of his house opened then and Kurt stepped out, looking down at his phone as his thumbs flew across the keyboard. He looked up, catching sight of Carson and sticking his phone back in his pocket.

"Carson, are you coming inside?" he asked, giving Santana a glare.

"Sorry, sweets, he has plans," Santana answered for him, her grip on Carson's arm tightening as she started dragging him back down the street. Carson chanced one brief look behind him, the sight of Kurt's disappointed face making him feel only slightly guilty, but also determined as fuck to keep this whole situation under wraps for as long as possible.

God, PLEASE let it be a horrible intestinal disease.

The bus ride across town was tense and mostly silent as Santana stared broodingly out the window and Carson sat nervously beside her, trying desperately to keep himself calm and pulled together. The fact that the woman across the aisle was holding a fussing baby didn't help matters. It only served to slap him in the face with the cold, hard reality of exactly how much he was fucked if Santana turned out to be pregnant.

I swear to God or whatever mystical being may or may not exist, if I escape this, I'll never fuck a woman again as long as I live. Dicks, just dicks, and nothing but dicks from now until the day I die, I swear.

Just, please give me this one, little break. Please.

"I swear to God, if I get through this, I'm swearing off dick," Santana spoke up, breaking the silence between then that had permeated the ride up until that moment. "I'm staying exclusively with pussy."

Well, at least we're on the same page, Carson thought, trying to hide his amusement as the woman with the baby glared over at them.

"Oh, fuck off," Santana told her, rolling her eyes.

The bus finally dropped them off at their destination, and Carson glanced over at the assisted living home as they passed it on their way to the pharmacy, wondering how his grandmother would react to this, if she could comprehend it. He had a feeling she'd be supportive no matter what. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was go in there, hug her, and feel safe.

Unfortunately, he knew that wasn't a possibility, so he swallowed his nervousness and followed Santana to the side street that contained the pharmacy. It looked a lot more intimidating than it should have, which Carson told himself was absolutely, completely ridiculous. After all, there was no reason to be this nervous if all they were going to do was prove that there was nothing to worry about, right?

Of course.

"Ok," he said, sounding a lot calmer than he felt. "I'll go in and get the... the stuff. You wait out here and try to act casual. Light up a... wait, no. Don't," he corrected himself, feeling foolish at telling her to not do something that could harm a baby he was sure didn't exist. Just... I don't know, play with your phone, or.."

"For fuck's sake, Carson, act casual. I know. Jesus, I've got it," Santana snapped impatiently. "Just hurry up so we can get this over with. And lift some water while you're in there. I'm going to need to pee like a motherfucker if I'm going to take all these damn tests."

"Right," Carson nodded, taking a deep breath before pushing open the door. He stepped inside the store and looked around, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.

Ok, where the fuck do they keep the pregnancy shit? he mused, his eyes scanning the signs above the aisles.

"Hi, there!" came a chipper female voice that sounded slightly familiar. He turned around and almost had a heart attack as he realized that the woman behind the counter was Mystery Redhead. The very same woman he had seen hanging out with his father for weeks on end.

Oh, fuck. I'm screwed. I'm so screwed.

"Can I help you find something, sir?" the woman asked, and Carson shook his head quickly.

"No, I... I'm just looking," he stammered out, ducking into an aisle to catch his breath and process this new complication in the plan.

Except... was it really a complication? He wondered if he even really needed to worry that much about the woman. Obviously, she hadn't seemed to recognize him. Well, of course they'd never met, but if she had ever seen a photo of Kurt, she would have recognized Carson as well.

And apparently she hasn't ever seen a picture of Kurt, Carson thought with relief. Of course she hasn't. She's the side dish. Dad isn't going to bother telling her about his kids, that would just get in the way of the sex.

Oh god, Carson, please never think about sex and either of your parents in the same sentence ever again. Santana should be the nauseous one, not you.

Oh, right. Santana. Ok, focus. Pregnancy tests, where are they?

He finally found the right aisle, which, thankfully, was well out of the sight of pretty much everyone in the store, and started grabbing all the tests he saw, making sure to shove one of each kind into his bag. He could hear the woman chatting away with each customer as she rung them up, and he wondered if she ever stopped talking. That overly cheerful, bright voice was enough to drive him up a wall, and he wondered how his father stood it.

Who cares? Just get the tests and go.

He made his way back toward the front of the store, ready to make a quick exit, but stopped dead in his tracks as he realized he'd forgotten the water.

Goddammit, he thought in frustration as the woman looked over at him and smiled widely. He realized he was still holding two tests in his hand that he hadn't yet shoved in his bag due to his distracted thoughts, and he couldn't very well walk out the door with them with her standing there watching him.

Uuuugh, he groaned inwardly. Oh, well. He had money on him, and hopefully this would all be very quick and painless.

Besides, if this chick is your ticket to a Neal-free household, it might help to get to know her a little, right?

He grabbed two water bottles out of the small cooler by the magazine rack and plopped them down on the counter, along with the pregnancy tests as he tried to look calm and collected.

"Hello," the woman said brightly as she began to ring up his items. "How are you doing today?"

"I'm peachy," Carson mumbled in response as she finally realized what she was ringing up and gave him a cross between a smile and an uncomfortable look.

"Oh," she murmured as she stuck the pregnancy tests in a bag.

"Yeah," said Carson. "Don't worry, they aren't for me."

Her face relaxed into a smile as she scanned the waters. "Trying for your first?"

The fuck? Carson wondered, just barely saving himself from saying it out loud. Do I look that nature for my age?

"Uh, well... not exactly trying," he said awkwardly, wishing this whole exchange would just end already. His eyes caught the glint of a shiny silver necklace around the woman's neck. "Nice necklace," he said quickly, attempting to change the subject. Must be one of the gifts from the other week when they went to that jewelry place downtown.

"Oh, thank you!" she chirped, touching the necklace lightly with one hand. "My boyfriend gave it to me. Truthfully, I'm holding out hope for an engagement ring one of these days."

Carson almost choked on his own spit as he heard that last sentence, covering it hurriedly with a fake cough. Jesus Christ. This woman is mental. Then again, I guess he's nicer to her than he is to us, so.

"You, uh... been together long?" he asked, his eyes falling on Santana outside, who was looking in at him and looking very impatient, probably wondering why the hell he was wasting time paying

"About six months," she answered as she took the money Carson held out to her and put it in the register. "But, you know. I think he might be the one."

Ok, wow, yeah, you're fucking insane, he thought, putting a fake smile on his face as he took his change and his bags. Either that or a glutton for punishment.

"Well... April," he said, leaning in to read the name on her name tag, "I hope that works out for you. Take care." He hurried out of the store as fast as he legs would carry him, handing the bag containing the water to Santana as he hurried away from the direction of the pharmacy.

"What the fuck were you doing in there?" Santana demanded, scurrying to keep up with him. "All you had to do was steal the shit and get the hell out of there."

"I know, I know. It's a long story, but I got like a fuck trillion tests, so start drinking so you can take them," he replied, not wanting to get into the subject of April at the moment. He and Santana had bigger things to worry about. Much, much bigger.

"Where are we doing this?" asked Santana as she twisted the cap off one water bottle and began to chug it down. "My parents are home. Kurt's at your house, and god knows I don't need him knowing about this. He'd never shut up about it and everyone would know within a day."

"Hey, that's not fair," Carson protested, feeling the protective need to defend Kurt for some reason. "He can keep a secret."

"Fine. Do you want him to know about this?" Santana asked sweetly, her voice laced with sarcasm. Carson hung his head and shook it. No, he didn't want Kurt to know about this at all. He had the feeling that his twin's reaction to even the possibility of pregnancy would be the worst out of everybody's.

"Yeah, didn't think so," said Santana.

"Why don't we go to my Grandma's?" Carson suggested. "I can visit with her while you, um... while you do the thing."

Santana nodded, taking a huge swig of water. "Fine. Yeah. Let's go there."

They wasted no time getting to the assisted living home, breezing through the lobby and giving the receptionist a casual wave before heading down the hall toward Grandma's room.

"Ok, I'm going to be in her room, right there," Carson said, pointing to the door as Santana nodded in understanding. "There's a bathroom at the very end of the hall that nobody really uses except the employees, so you should have plenty of privacy. Here," he continued, handing her the plastic pharmacy bag along with his messenger bag. "The rest of the tests are in there."

"Ok," Santana said, taking a deep breath as she took the bags. "Well. Wish us luck, I guess."

Carson gave her a pained smile and an awkward pat on the shoulder as he watched her go, praying to anyone or anything that might be listening that what was going on with her was anything but a pregnancy.

Please, please, please, please, pleeeease, he pleaded silently as he gently opened the door to Grandma's room. She was sleeping, which he supposed was just as well. His nerves were already frayed enough without the added stress that would occur if it happened to not be one of her good days. He pulled out his phone, the blinking light at the top indicating that he had several missed texts from Kurt.

You didn't have to run out, Carson.

Are you ok?

Can we talk about what happened last night?

Carson sighed heavily, sinking back into his chair. He had almost entirely forgotten about the previous night at Sebastian's, in light of everything that had happened in the couple of hours since he'd arrived home. It seemed so long ago, like something that had happened in a whole other lifetime. Depending on the results of those tests, his complicated relationship with Kurt could possibly become the least worrisome thing in his life, and quite honestly, he was scared shitless about that. He wished that he was as close to his twin as he used to be. Even last year, he could have just told Kurt what was going on and Kurt would have probably comforted him, held his hand, told him everything would be ok.

Unfortunately, things get a little complicated and messy when you fall in love with someone you really shouldn't.

He passed the time on his phone, making it through six levels of Angry Birds before the door to the room finally opened and Santana peeked in, her face sullen and serious looking.

"Can we go?" she asked, sounding on the verge of tears, and Carson nodded, his heart sinking in his chest as he pocketed his phone and left the room, closing the door gently behind him as he turned to face Santana. She looked more lost and vulnerable than he'd ever seen her look before, and the sight of her barely keeping it together was absolutely the scariest thing he'd experienced all day.

"Well," he said, not bothering to phrase it as a question because he already knew the answer. Santana held out the plastic pharmacy bag, opening it carefully to reveal the pile of tests Carson had given her. Every last one of them was proudly and tauntingly displaying either a plus sign or some other coded display that meant one thing and one thing only.

They both stared down at the tests for what felt like hours, neither of them saying a word as they absorbed the news. Carson had heard the phrase "One moment can change your life forever" many times, always attached to something like a book summary, or a magazine article, or something dumb like a television commercial for a movie of the week. Just a cliché thing that people say when they want to be dramatic. He'd never really stopped to consider what it meant.

Now he knew. Now he understood completely. It wasn't just a dramatic, overused phrase. It was rooted in cold reality.

"I have to get home," Santana said after a while, clearly trying to keep her voice from breaking. "It's getting late, and I said I would be home for dinner."

Carson nodded, still feeling completely numb from the news. "Yeah... yeah. I'll take you."

"I can get there myself."

"No, I'll take you," Carson insisted, taking the plastic bag from Santana and closing it up. "We'll toss this in the public bin on the way."

Santana nodded, giving in and allowing Carson to accompany her all the way home.

"We should go to a doctor," Carson said as they turned onto Santana's street.

"What the fuck for?" asked Santana. "I think seven tests is more than enough. What will a doctor prove?"

"Well, you never know, do you?" Carson snapped. "Maybe you have something else that can show up as pregnancy symptoms."

"For fuck's sake, Carson-"

"Look, don't you want to have official confirmation?" he asked. "And information?"

"Information about what?"

"Well... your options," Carson said.

Santana didn't say anything else in reply as they finally reached the end of her driveway. They stood outside for a moment, just staring at the house, and Carson could tell that the last thing Santana wanted to do was go inside.

"Well. What they don't know can't hurt them for a while, right?" she said finally, handing Carson his messenger bag and giving him a wave. "I'll see you in school tomorrow, yeah?"

"School. School, right," Carson agreed, nodding robotically before beginning to trudge home. School, like everything else, seemed a million years ago. And also like something that suddenly seemed completely pointless. What was the sense of even trying at school if he was never going to be able to get into the university he wanted because he had a baby?

She could decide to not even keep it, he mused, kicking a rock in front of him every few feet as the sun slowly set and the day turned to dusk. It could be adopted. Or... or she could decide not to even have it at all.

The fact that he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about either of those options scared him more than possibly anything else.

Kurt was waiting for him when he got back home, perched on the couch with an open magazine in front of him as he delicately thumbed through the pages.

"Carson, good. You're home," he said, closing his magazine and setting it down on the coffee table. "I was worried."

"You really shouldn't worry so much," Carson murmured, breezing past Kurt to go into the kitchen. He was suddenly starving, having only eaten a bit of yogurt at Sebastian's house earlier that morning.

"Well, you ran off so suddenly and you were so quiet today," said Kurt, following him into the kitchen. "And I really think we should talk about... you know. Last night."

"It's not important, Kurt," said Carson, pulling out the bread and a jar of peanut butter. "It happened, let's just forget it and get on with life."

"I don't want to just forget it," Kurt replied, pulling out a chair and sitting down at the table. "I want to talk about it because I think it's time we discussed-"

"Discussed what, Kurt?" Carson snapped. "We fucked your boyfriend together. Big deal. I have more important things to worry about than you being jealous of my spending time with Sebastian."

"He is not my boyfriend!" Kurt shouted. "And that's... that's not even it at all. I'm not... not about Seb... I lo-"

"Jesus Christ, Kurt, will you just leave me alone for five fucking minutes?" Carson practically roared, slamming his sandwich together and throwing the butter knife into the sink in frustration, where it clattered against the metal, the sound echoing throughout the kitchen. He had barely heard any of what Kurt had said, so lost was he in his own miserable thoughts. It all sounded like white noise to him, and he would have happily killed someone for a few seconds of silence. "God, I can't... I can't even fucking breathe, just leave me alone."

Kurt's bottom lip quivered as Carson finished yelling, barely even noticeable but enhanced significantly by the wounded look in his eyes. He got up from his chair, opening his mouth as if he wanted desperately to say something, but closed it again before hurrying out of the kitchen, his head bowed and his arms wrapped protectively around himself. Carson felt like a complete asshole as he turned back to the sink, pressing his palms against it and hanging his head.

I would say it can't get any worse than this, but I think the universe would take that as a challenge.

"Another drink?" asked Sebastian, holding out a red plastic cup to Kurt, who eagerly took it and downed half the contents in one gulp. It was Saturday night and they were hanging out in the Phillips' living room because the club they normally went to had been temporarily closed due to a drug raid. It would figure, Kurt thought as he nursed his drink. The one time the police gave a shit about drugs, and it would have to be the weekend he desperately needed a night out.

He didn't even know what to do about Carson anymore. He had thought he had made at least a little bit of progress with him the past few weeks. It hadn't been perfect, but it was progress. Carson had been a little less moody, anyway. Even if he was spending far too much time with Sebastian for Kurt's liking. Contrary to what Carson seemed to think, Kurt's thinly disguised jealousy was not entirely about Sebastian. He did like Sebastian as slightly more than just a friend and a fuck buddy, but that wasn't where most of his jealousy stemmed from.

No, where it stemmed from was the fact that he knew Sebastian, and he knew exactly how easily Sebastian could charm almost anyone out of their pants and into his bed. And even though he didn't really think that Carson would ever give in that easily, the very thought still sent waves of jealousy crashing over Kurt the likes of which he' never felt before.

He guessed that this was part of the reason why he had kind of instigated that threesome the other night. If anything was going to happen between Carson and Sebastian, it would be on Kurt's terms. Unfortunately, he was now having to face the possibility that this might have been a bit of a mistake. For the past few days, Carson had been even moodier than ever. And, considering how bitchy and snappy Carson could get even on a normal moody day for him, that was certainly saying something. His outburst to Kurt in the kitchen the other night, although it hadn't really been that bad, had shaken Kurt up a lot. He really, really didn't like being the cause of Carson's moodiness, and it seemed as though the catalyst this time had been the goddamn threesome.

And, to add insult to injury, Carson had suddenly been spending a lot more time with Santana, who was also being an even bigger bitch than she normally was. Kurt wasn't sure whose mood was rubbing off on who, but the two of them together were like a giant storm cloud of misery. And, oh joy of joys, Santana was over that night, sitting sullenly next to Carson and watching television.

If I live to be a hundred years old, I will never understand what the fuck he sees in her, Kurt thought bitterly, downing the rest of his drink as Sebastian handed him another one.

"You're not driving tonight, are you?" Sebastian quipped as Kurt sipped at the drink.

"Vurry funny," Kurt slurred, getting up and moving over to the couch where Carson and Santana sat. "Coming throuuugh," he crooned as he set his drink down on the coffee table, wedging himself between the two of them and cuddling up close to Carson. "It... it's warm ov... over here. You're warm," he said, clinging to Carson and giving Santana the best evil eye he could conjure up in his inebriated state.

"You're drunk, Kurt," replied Carson, and at the very least he didn't sound pissed. Then again, he was at least a little bit buzzed.

"I knooooow," said Kurt happily as Sebastian sat down in a chair across from the couch and gave him an amused look. "I'm glad we didn't go out tonight. I like this couch. This is good couch." He burst into giggles and wrapped his arms around Carson's waist, secretly thrilling when Carson didn't immediately get up or tell him to go.

"How freaking charming," mumbled Santana, her eyes glued to the TV screen. Kurt looked over at her and glared, narrowing his eyes and pointing one finger in her direction.

"You know, San...San... Sultana... you know what your problem is?" Kurt slurred. "I.. ah, you know what, I don't care. I'm happy Carsey is in a good mood tonight," he said with a sloppy smile, cuddling closer to Carson and trying to curl up in a more comfortable position with his feet almost in Santana's lap.

"Kurt, be careful," Carson said quietly, tapping Kurt on the legs to make him move them over. "You're going to end up kicking her."

Kurt drunkenly blew a raspberry and moved his feet, not much caring whether or not he kicked Santana, but careful not to do it anyway. "You're being a nice Carsey tonight. I like nice Carsey," he said. "Not... not like you... like you in your bad mood and shit, like... I swear sometimes it's like living with a bitchy girl who has a constant case of PMS. No offense, Santana," he added, throwing a toothy smile in Santana's direction.

"You know, Kurt, I don't need to have PMS to kick your ass," Santana retorted, shoving Kurt as far away from herself as possible.

"Ow," Kurt whined, even though it hadn't really hurt. "Bring it... bi... bit... bitch," he finally got out. "Bring it on."

"Both of you stop it. Nobody is fighting anyone. Especially not you, Santana," Carson said, giving the girl a pointed look.

"You know what?" Kurt said, patting Carson clumsily on the shoulder. "I.. you're right. Violence is... is never the answer. Well, ok, sometimes it's kind of the answer, but, like... she's a girl, so. So, yeah. Gentleman and all that shit. I need another drink," he said, awkwardly getting up and crossing over into the kitchen to pour some alcohol and soda into a cup.

"Sebastiaaan," he whined as he struggled with the cap on a new bottle of soda. "I can't get it open."

Sebastian sighed and got up to help him as Kurt peered back into the living room. He saw Santana holding his forgotten cup that he had left on the coffee table, holding it up as Carson tried to yank it away from her.

"Santana, what the fuck?" he was saying, his eyebrows knit into an angry frown. "You can't."

"Oh, please. A little bit isn't going to kill it," Santana replied. "I have to drink or I'll go fucking insane."

"Give me that," Carson said exasperatedly, finally succeeding in getting the cup out of Santana's grasp and standing up with it.

"Ok, you know what, fuck this," said Santana, getting up from the couch and grabbing for her jacket. "I'm going home... oh god," she added, bringing her hand up to her mouth. "After I throw up. Then I'm going home." She rushed off in the direction of the bathroom, leaving Carson holding the cup with a tired look on his face.

"They're fighting," Kurt said gleefully, turning back to Sebastian as the other boy handed him the opened soda bottle.

"I'll bet," said Sebastian, pouring himself another drink. "Won't be the last time for a while, I'd imagine."

"Hmm?" asked Kurt, taking a sip of his drink.

"Nothing," said Sebastian. "Go cuddle Carson some more. It's better than porn for me."

Kurt flipped him off and toddled back into the living room with his cup, joining Carson back on the couch as Santana came out of the bathroom and left without a word.

"What's her problem?" Kurt asked between sips, resting his head on Carson's shoulder and smiling to himself when his twin let him.

"It's complicated," Carson murmured, pulling Kurt a little bit closer.

"I feel like I'm going to throw up," Santana said as she sat on the examination table at the clinic on Monday morning. "And I can't tell if it's because I'm pregnant or nervous."

"Hey, we don't know for sure you're pregnant until the doctor says so," Carson replied, fidgeting nervously in his chair.

"You seemed pretty fucking sure on Saturday when you wouldn't let me drink," mumbled Santana irritably.

"That was just in case," Carson retorted. "And please stop talking, you're making me nervous."

"I'm making you nervous?" Santana exclaimed. "Need I remind you that I'm the one who could possibly be carrying your bastard child, which, should I decide to allow it to leech off of me for the next nine months, is probably going to completely ruin my abs, not to mention my vagina? I think I'm just a little more nervous than you are."

Carson's biting retort was cut short by the turning of the door knob as the doctor came back inside the room and smiled at them.

"Well," the doctor said cheerfully, pulling up her stool and sitting down on it with her clipboard in hand. "How are we today?"

Carson just barely managed to resist rolling his eyes. They were two teenagers waiting on the results of a pregnancy test on a weekday morning when they'd be less likely to be seen coming in or out of the clinic. How the fuck did she think they were?

"How about we cut the small talk bullshit and you just give it to us straight," Santana replied, getting right to the point. "Am I knocked up or not?"

"You are," the doctor replied, her smile wavering as she referred to her clipboard. "About four weeks along, I'd say."

The buzzing in Carson's ears prevented him from hearing anything else the doctor said. She might have been talking about anything, anything at all. It would have made no difference to him. All he could focus on was the metaphorical sound of his future being flushed down the toilet.

Simply put, if Santana chose to keep the baby, the final nail in Carson's coffin was hammered in. Every decision he made from then on would first have to be put through the baby filter. All the plans he'd made for a bigger and better life... He had to actually bite his lip to keep himself from crying right there in the doctor's office.

That wasn't even his biggest problem, either, he realized as he shuffled his way into his grandmother's room later that afternoon, pulling up a chair and waiting patiently for her to wake up from her nap. Deep down inside, he knew that university and life plans could be worked around if he focused hard enough. All it would take was a lot more effort on his part.

But the prospect of being a father... that scared the shit out of him. How the hell was he supposed to raise a child? What kind of father could he possibly be, when the only model of fatherhood he had to go on was Neal? At least he knew that he didn't want to be that kind of father. He would never put his own child through what his father had put him through. No fucking way.

But the question was, how was he supposed to be a good father? Or, hell, even an adequate father? What if he sucked at it? What if he screwed the kid up for life by his sheer parental ineptitude?

What if being an abusive asshole was genetic and he couldn't help but turn into his father once he had a kid of his own?

That last part was what haunted him the most. He looked over at his sleeping grandmother, wishing as hard as he could that she would wake up with her memory magically restored to its former glory, hug him, and say "Now, listen, Carson. Don't you dare put yourself down. You'll be ok. I'm here for you."

His phone buzzing interrupted his pity party, and he opened it to reveal a text from Kurt, who was really the only other person he wanted a hug from at the moment, no matter how much he pushed the desire away.

Wanna do something tonight? Just you and me? :)

Carson put the phone aside, bringing his knees up to his chest as he buried his face in them and cried.

He left the assisted living home an hour and a half later, a slight puffiness in his face the only remaining evidence that he had had a good cry. He shifted the weight of his messenger bag on his shoulder, feeling as though it were symbolic somehow of the weight life had seen fit to put on his shoulders. He had never felt more like running away in his entire life than he did right then, not even in the moments following the last beating he'd gotten from his father. He would rather have relived that a thousand times than be going through the shit he was dealing with now. At least then he had hope.

He passed by the pharmacy, automatically glancing through the window to see if April was there, as had become his habit whenever he passed it now. She saw him looking and gave him a wave, which he reluctantly returned. He was a little weirded out when she waved him inside, but he decided he might as well. Maybe he could convince her to take his father off his hands.

Hah. If only.

"Hi, there!" chirped April when Carson went inside, and he refrained from wincing at the sugary sweetness of her voice. Seriously, how the hell does Dad STAND that? He's used to a house full of sarcastic bite.

"Hi," he replied awkwardly.

"So, how did it go?" asked April with a smile.

"Huh?"

"You know... your purchases last week," she said in a hushed voice.

"Oh," Carson said, finally getting it. "Well, she's, um... she's pregnant." The very word felt like a chain on his tongue, but he ignored that and tried to fake a smile.

"That's wonderful!" exclaimed April. "Congratulations, Papa."

Oh for fuck's sake, don't call me that. "Yeah, well.. um... thanks," he said. And suddenly, as he looked upon April's smiling face, he had an idea. Maybe he was just pissed off at the world, or maybe he was just feeling particularly vindictive, he wasn't sure. But suddenly, he realized that he was actually in a pretty good position to help things along in the Get Neal The Fuck Out Of This Family department.

A little manipulation couldn't hurt, right?

"So, how's the boyfriend?" he asked casually, pasting a fake-ass smile on his face and resisting the urge to gag. "Got that engagement ring yet?"

April blushed and looked around before she smiled sadly and shook her head. "Not yet. I keep dropping hints, and he says he'd like to get married someday, but I don't know when someday is."

"That.. erm... that's a shame," said Carson, trying his best to sound sincere. "You have any plans of your own to start a family?"

April nodded, smiling wider. "Oh, I hope so. I can't wait to have children. But, you know. I do kind of want that ring first."

"Well, you know," said Carson smoothly, leaning across the counter and giving her his most winning smile. "I do hope I'm not getting too personal here, and I apologize if I am. But you know what gets a guy off his ass and gets him to finally make that commitment faster than anything?"

"What's that?" asked April.

"A baby," replied Carson simply as April's eyes widened. "I mean, look at me."

"Hmm," April mused. "Well, that is true for some guys. I don't know about him, though. He's never had children and I'm not really even sure how he feels about having them."

Carson suppressed a snort, covering it with a cough. "Oh, I bet he'll be resistant at first, but he'll love them when they're here, right?" He forced out a joking laugh, which April returned, but he could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

Hey, if my life is going to be ruined by an unplanned baby, so should Dear Old Dad's.