#yoyoyo fiiiiiiiic

[jessixalogan-blog]

I'm Asking For An Absolution; Chapter One

Rating: T; for sprinkles of language

Characters: Jessica Logan, Wyatt Logan, Emma Whitmore, Lucy Preston

Relationships: WyJess, Garcy, possible Riya

Summary: "I know I've done nothing to deserve anything from you...but I'm begging you, please, help me."

Jessica's nails drummed on the desk. A satisfying noise that she could honestly listen to all day long. She was boring easily today, though. She huffed and looked at her watch. (12:56pm) Emma had been gone for 4 hours. Something has either gone wrong, or she has everything under complete control and is just making a show of everything. Jessica rolled her eyes, thinking of the last time Emma had done just that, and sighed. She was hungry, but there was nothing to eat here and she couldn't go get something. She was tired but she couldn't sleep, on account of Emma appointing her watch-dog. 

Her hand that was drumming on the table, lowered to her swollen belly. The being inside reacted promptly to the sensation and gave Jessica a swift kick. "Woah, little dude." She yawned. "It's just me." 

She grabbed her phone—yes, she was allowed her phone and basically free access to anything. Besides, Emma doesn't have to know about everything. Lazily and mindlessly, swiping her pattern to unlock it, she opened her camera and tried to record the baby reacting to her touch. Smiling as she caught two kicks, she stopped the video and sent it to her husband. In the message box below, she wrote, Four months. 

She felt like crying, when she was done. (Hormones mostly.) She missed her husband dearly, and she so wanted him to be apart of her pregnancy and more importantly the child's life. She had no idea if he got her texts, if he looked at them. If they made him happy to see the development of his baby. Did he care care at all? 

Surely he did. Surely. They way he looked at her in the alley, the way he sounded...surely he meant it. She tried to stay in touch—behind Emma's back, she'll have you know—but it was radio silence from him.

Four months later... 

Jessica usually kept her distance from Emma. It's not that she didn't like her, it's just...Emma rubbed her the wrong way. Everything Wyatt told her about his Jessica and all the time they had spent together, made her question. Hell, that night in Chinatown made her question everything. (She couldn't do anything about it, though. And she wasn't about to risk the life of her unborn child.) So she just kept her distance, and came when called. 

Earlier in this afternoon, Emma was pissed. And not "I Broke My Mom's Favourite Dish And Now I'm Grounded For Life" pissed but "I Crashed Dad's Truck Into A Tree and I'll Be Lucky If I Live Through The Night" pissed. Jessica's whole body tensed and her hands instinctively flew to her very pronounced​, round belly. 

"The bitch!" She yelled. She tugged at her hair, and honestly looked like a child. Jessica bit her lip. "And the...bastards." 

Jessica didn't ask what happened. She never asked. She let Emma cool off and if she wanted to talk, Jessica would talk with her. (It was never anything personal. Always business—Rittenhouse—related.) 

Tonight, Jessica was playing Beer Pong (because what else?) on her phone, on the crappy couch, when Emma finally spoke up. She sat across the room, at the desk. The computer screen lit up her face. 

"You know, we can't keep it, right? We can't." It was an out of the blue statement that was said so nonchalantly. With no care—she didn't even look at Jess. "It was an accident." 

Jessica's heart sped up. She had a feeling she knew what Emma was talking about, but for safe measure she asked, "Excuse me? What?" 

Emma's eyes flickered to her but only for a nanosecond. "The baby," She clarified. "We can't keep it." 

Jessica set aside her phone and tried to calm herself down, mentally. No, no, no, no. She sat up straighter, willed tears not to fall at the mere idea. 

"What? Why?" She didn't exactly yell, but her voice was louder than before. 

"Because, Jessica," Emma now turned to her. "I didn't really like you. But I kept you around because I could use the back up. You're a good asset and damn good with a gun. But now you've gotten yourself knocked up and are barely any help. When it arrives, you sure as hell won't be able to do anything." 

Jessica couldn't even speak. Her heart jumped to her throat. (This stress wasn't good for the baby, she told herself. She needed to calm down.) She shook her head. "No, no." Louder again, "I figured we could raise it here—in Rittenhouse. Become an asset, an agent. I—" 

"What is a newborn going to provide to Rittenhouse?" 

"Well, obviously not as a newborn. He—or she—would have to be considerably older," She was speaking quickly. Her sentences blurred together. She tried to say anything and everything that would get this ridiculous notion out of her head. Rittenhouse, the baby could grow up in Rittenhouse. "But maybe in 13 years, it could be helpful—" 

"That's 13 years, Jessica. I cannot wait that long. I don't have the time nor the patience." 

Jessica was on the verge of tears but she wiped then away and shook her head once more. "No." 

"Yes," Emma said. "That's what Rittenhouse is about—sacrifice. Sacrifice for the greater good. When was the last time you truly sacrificed something?" 

"My husband!" That time she did yell and maybe one stray tear fell. "My husband." 

"Please. Save the hormonal drama. The baby isn't staying. That's final." 

Rather childishly, Jessica grabbed her phone and ran to the other room. Jessica cried herself to sleep and Emma felt a clench in the stomach. But she ignored it, as usual. 

3 weeks later...

Newborn baby smell was amazing, it was almost indescribable. It was joy; Jess couldn't be happier. It was relief; she was no longer pregnant. It was bittersweet; she would no longer feel the baby moving inside of her but now she got to hold it. It was sadness; Emma was going to take it away. 

Jessica was not prepared for this baby. No matter how much she wanted to be, how often she tried to leave, Emma didn't let her. "It's not staying, so you don't need anything," She would say. 

Emma had left for a trip that she said she was going to be gone for longer than usual. The baby had come early. (Jessica delivered it herself. Scared witless but she had read enough that she was somewhat confident that she could do it.) Tears rolled freely. She couldn't give this baby up. She had tried to detach herself from it. Had stopped sending Wyatt updates, videos and pictures. But when the little thing screamed and took its first breath...it was overwhelming. She could never give up this child. 

She cleaned the baby off best as she could, cleaned herself up and hobbled to her room. She grabbed her phone and, with shaky hands, punched in Wyatt's number. The baby fell asleep against her chest and a sob escaped her throat. 

Wyatt didn't answer. He never did. 

She looked around and made a quick decision. 

Run. 

She limped around, still very sore and tender—she really shouldn't be walking—she grabbed a basket and a towel, laid the baby inside the basket and grabbed the keys that Emma did not "hide". 

She grabbed the basket and headed for the door. She didn't spare one look back as she hopped in the jet black vehicle. Before starting the car, she took the SIM card out of her phone and chucked it at the building—somewhat angrily. The phone was completely useless now except for the memories it held. 

It scared the ever living crap out of Jessica to put her hour-old baby in a basket in the floorboard of the car. She drove fast and with purpose but carefully, glancing at the baby every 5 seconds. (It was sound asleep.) 

It was hours before she made it where she wanted to be. Wyatt was right; she knew where the bunker was. And they hadn't moved. (She was a little surprised, honestly.) 

She got out of the car and grabbed her baby and headed for the latch. She approached very, very carefully and warily, not wanting to get shot at. No one was guarding the latch. 

(They were really confident in the idea that no one was going to find them, it would seem.) 

She hadn't thought this through. The only way in...was down. Down a ladder. And she was 90% sure there could be an alarm that would go off the second she opened it. She didn't remember any when Wyatt had brought her, but a lot has changed. 

(Another thought had just come to her, Wyatt could be gone. Back in time, trying to stop Emma... She internally panicked but kept her head.) 

Deciding she could climb the ladder one-handed (she's done it before. Just not with a baby...), she set the basket down and opened the latch. 

No alarms. She thanked whatever God was watching out for her today. She carefully took the baby out of the basket and held it close to her chest. With deep breaths, she started down. 

Climbing a ladder. Something you shouldn't do three hours after giving birth. Jessica could scream. But she bit her tongue. 

She made it to the bottom. She took five feet worth of steps—in agony—before she came face to face with Lucy. 

Lucy's face was pure panic. She was about to run the other direction, scream, something to draw attention. But Jessica beat her. 

"Please," Her voice came out hoarse and she was suddenly aware of how much of a Trainwreck she probably looked. "Please." 

Lucy noticed the bundle in her arms. And closed her mouth. She shifted from one foot to the other. Her hair was half pulled up and she was wearing an oversized burgundy, turtleneck. If they weren't in this situation, Jessica would have smirked. 

"I know I've done nothing to deserve anything from you," Jessica yelled at herself internally for sounding so weak. "but I'm begging you...help me. Please." 

Lucy was very skeptical. And for good reason, Jessica would admit. She eyed Jessica up and down, noticed the slightly bent knees, and the spots of blood that were sporadic from her waist down. (Jessica had forgotten about that, but she didn't care.) Lucy concluded that she had indeed just given birth and was in no position to bring a fight. (Even if she tried, in Jessica's current state, The Team could beat her to anything.) Lucy nodded and beckoned Jessica to follow her.