Disclaimer: I do not own ER or the characters thereof; I just like to play with them. Please don't sue me for I have no money to take. By the way, I hate disclaimers....

Note: There have been several stories about Abby being pregnant, (I love them all, by the way. I love to see Abby happy). So I've decided to write my own story about what I think it would really be like. I think I'll tell it from Abby's point of view. Set late in season seven.

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I hate the color blue. It was my favorite color almost my whole life because it was so soothing. But now it's staring back at me, sitting there on the end of a tiny stick with a message of doom, telling me my life's about to turn upside down.

I hate the color blue...

"Abby? Abby did you hear me?" Kerri Weaver asks me in her usual "I'm the boss" tone. And no, I didn't hear her.

"What? I'm sorry," I reply.

"There's an old man in Exam 2 who needs some stitches," she says as she hands me the chart.

I take the chart without further acknowledgement and let my mind wander back to my previous distraction; did I throw the box away? I should have burned it, then I wouldn't have to worry about whether or not Luka might find it. I'll just tell him I want to be alone tonight and pray that he doesn't get too suspicious.

"Mr. Bellman?" I ask as I enter the room.

"It's about goddamn time," is he "cheerful" reply. I don't bother to introduce myself, but instead go straight to the mind numbing work. I've stitched so many people I'd bet money that I could do it with my eyes closed. So I do the next best thing, I let my mind wander again.

How the hell could I be pregnant? The damn condom must have broke. Yeah, I remember now. That's exactly what happened. Fucking latex.

So now I just have to decide what to do. No I don't. I already know what to do.

There was a reason I chose to be an OB nurse. I wanted to be around babies but I didn't want to have my own. I've never wanted my own. I never even played with baby dolls growing up because I was so against the idea of being a mother. I hated my mother, why would I want to be like that?

I really only have one option then, and it really depresses me because I never thought I would consider it. Ideally I would put my child up for adoption so it could be in what I know would be a loving home. But the problem is Luka. It would make him so happy to have a kid again, and he'd probably strangle me before he let me give it up. And for the sake of his happiness and my sanity, I can never let him know.

God, I need a cigarette.

"All right Mr. Bellman, all done," I say happily. "I'll get a doctor in here to discharge you."

I peel my gloves off with a snap and make a beeline for the elevator. When I open the door to the roof, the crisp air smacks my face and I instantly calm down. God, I love the roof. I light up my cigarette as I make my way to the edge.

Since I've been in the ER, this has been the best part of my workdays, just standing by the edge of the building and letting the cold air twist around my body. It's the best thing I've ever felt.

"Mind if I join you?" came a voice from behind me, and I recognize it instantly. It's John, my good, good friend John.

"Not at all," I reply.

"So what's bothering you? You've been in a daze all day. Not to mention the way you bolted up here, and I know you only come here when you're stressed. So what's up?"

I can tell Carter anything.

"The test was positive," I say as I take another puff.

"What test?"

"The pregnancy test." He pauses for a while with a look on his face that I can't discern. I can't tell if it's shock or disappointment. It's probably both.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he asks. Always the supportive friend that Carter.

"It's very bad." I take an even bigger puff.

"What does Luka think?" For some reason, he always has trouble saying his name.

"Nothing. I haven't told him, and I'm not going to."

"So you're not going to keep it."

"God no," I say laughing an angry laugh, finally breaking the cool exterior I had been keeping. "There's no way in hell I'm going to have a kid. I don't want one, I never have."

"Why not?"

"You've met my mother. Take a guess," I snap, immediately regretful for doing so. He was only trying to understand. He didn't deserve that. But I'm too stressed right now to apologize.

"Do you want me to make you an appointment somewhere?" he asked, still being supportive.

"No, I can do it myself, thanks. But, when the time comes, do you think you could come with me? I don't think I could do it alone."

"Of course," he says. He puts his arm around me and rubs it up and down my own, trying to make me warm. It's then that I realize I've been shaking.

"Luka can never find out," I say. "He'll hate me if he finds out."

"You don't need to worry about it," he says back, still rubbing.

"How can I do this to him?" I ask as I burry my head in his chest. I don't cry though. I never cry in front of people.

"It's your choice too," he explains. "If you don't feel you can be a mother, then he can't force you to have a baby."

He always makes me feel better. He's a great guy. And so I get the reassurance I've been craving. I'm doing the right thing. Though the truth is, I don't think I'll ever believe this is the right thing. I'm going to completely betray Luka, the man I'm supposed to love. I'm going to prevent a life from happening. What if I could be a good mother? What if I'm only going to do this because I'm afraid?

I am afraid. Mostly afraid that I won't ever be able to look Luka in his big brown eyes again. I'm going to hate myself even more than I already do if I do this to him.

But hey, what's a little more hatred towards myself? That's nothing in my world.