AN: Sooo.. is everyone still after me with pitchforks and knives?

Courtney had to shake his shoulder and repeatedly say his name before the words fully sunk in. Gathering his wits, he looked at her slowly. "Miscarriage."

She nodded once, shutting her eyes in despair. "I'm so sorry."

Shaking his head, he grabbed her arm and pulled her close to his chest. He held her tight, stroking her hair and letting her softly weep into the crook of his neck. They were only kids; all this drama had been thrown onto them and exploded into a mess neither of them had signed up for. Swallowing down the sick feeling rising up like bile, he whispered, "Maybe this is a blessing in disguise."

Ripping away from him like his touched had burned, she stared at him with a cold, unnerving expression. "A blessing? Our," She made a hand movement; gesturing between them feverishly. "Baby could be dying and you think it's a blessing?"

He hated the anger that was burning behind the unforgiving look she shot at him. He hated what he was about to say. "Why don't you take a step back into reality, Courtney? We can kid ourselves all we want, but we aren't ready for a child!" It was true. Cruel, but true. At least, he wasn't, even if he could convince himself he was. All Duncan wanted, was for her to understand; if she did, it might hurt, just a little less.

Shaking her head in utter disbelief, she bolted from the dingy bathroom, clutching her stomach as if it would somehow keep the child from dying.

"Courtney!" He called after her, but she kept on running.

No one asked questions, or bothered her when they saw her pass. They kept to themselves, trying to process how their little camping adventure had turned into such a twisted soap opera.

Courtney ignored all their curious stares, slinking in through the trees to find some privacy. She was careful not not trip over roots or branches, rubbing her stomach in a comforting manner. She wanted to tell the little baby everything would be okay, but she couldn't lie, even if it couldn't hear her. Leaning up against one of the drier trees, a sigh slipped through her lips. She felt so frazzled, as if she had just been shoved overboard and was running out of oxygen. What was she going to do? If Duncan wasn't willing to help her now, how on earth would she receive proper medical treatment? Chef certainly wasn't qualified for that.

Still, while too frightened to leave the island, she knew she couldn't sit around and do nothing.

Quiet and swift, Courtney ran out from her forest cover and up the steps into the mess hall, nearly slipping on one of the damper ones.

She could hear Chef and Chris arguing about budget cuts and salaries, and not having enough money to throw that Hawaiian party they had been planning. She rolled her eyes, despite her worry.

"Chris," She piped up once she realized they weren't going to stop on account of her presence. "I need your help."

"And my money." He deadpanned, as if she'd be talking about ripping out pieces of his soul. If he even had one. "The answer is no."


"Noooo." He stretched out the word, shaking his head. "I don't care what it is, we barely have enough money to last for the rest of this summer!"

Courtney was about to reply, when a hand coming down onto her shoulder made her jump. She turned, expecting to see Duncan, apologetic and ready to calm the hysteria that was whirling inside her, but instead saw Bridgette with a light smile. "Wanna talk?"

Duncan laid in the sand, it felt cold and wet against the back of his shirt, but he didn't move. Everything about him felt cold; like somehow he had come to realize that his dream had turned into a sick nightmare. Kids sounded so great in theory, but he couldn't support a child. Not in the state he was in. Never the less, he couldn't shake the little voice in his head that was repeating over and over how he had let her and their possible child down.

"Yo, Dunc," He looked up slightly, seeing Geoff's beaming, which made him crack just a tiny smile in return.


"We've gotta talk, dude."

"So you are pregnant..." Bridgette murmured in awe, mentally adding that she now owed Harold five dollars.

"Not for long." Courtney muttered bitterly, wrapping her arms tighter around her stomach.

"You don't know that for sure." The blonde gazed out the window in confusion as she could of sworn she saw a flicker of bright orange hair in the window, but shook it off. "You need a doctor to take a look at you."

"I know that, Bridgette, but it's not like Chris is going to get me my own private doctor. I couldn't even think of a proper cover story as to why I would need one."

"I could shoot you in the foot!" They heard a familiar shout, followed by a gleeful cackle, and the appearance of a certain red head. "I've gots me precious right here!" She held up a silver gun, making both girl's eyes widen, but they relaxed as they realized it was only a BB gun.

"That won't help me, Izzy." Courtney said flatly, before studying the girl. "Then again, maybe you can. You're crazy; you know how to do a lot of stuff. You could fly a helicopter, couldn't you?"

Bridgette gasped. She wasn't sure who she thought was crazier; Izzy, or Courtney, for possibly trusting Izzy.

"Woo! Yeah! Flying time, weee!" Izzy spread her arms out and ran around the room as if she were an airplane. Clearly her fear of flying had been overcome.

The brunette and blonde looked at one another. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea.

AN: Here you go! Finally, a chapter update. I apologize if it was thrown together; I just really wanted to get this out to my wonderful fans. -I feel arrogant saying I have fans. Do I really? Can I have a fan club?-