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A Moth Into A Butterfly	By : TaimaMarie Category: Individual Celebrities > Criss Angel Views: 3069 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know or own Criss Angel. This is a work of fiction. I make no money off it.

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AN: Criss IS a dick for doing that, Ero, and it's about to get a WHOLE lot worse. Haha. I like to update frequently because I like to keep my readers happy. And I *love* poetic sex. It makes me sound SO dorky and strange, but I'd rather have pretty sex than hot, sweaty sex. (I've had both, take the pretty sex any day.) Hope you got the baby down to bed okay! Also, everyone, the song is Imaginary by Evanescence, because I think it captures how Marilyn is feeling.

Marilyn sat in her bathroom. She wrung her fingers together, picked at her nail polished, fussed with the toilet paper holder, and then stared at the timer on her cell phone.

“Come on, come on.” She mumbled. She had woken up on her couch the morning after her night with Nicholas. It was quite a shock to reach out and have nothing but air. Not even a bed was beneath her palm.

Marilyn had sat up quick. She had to remember everything that happened the night before. Had he slipped her something? She hadn’t had that much to drink. No, no, all she remembered was that great sex and then falling asleep with him. Maybe she had gotten up early in the morning and cabbed home.

Marilyn ran her hand through her hair. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was that she was now exactly two weeks late. Normally it wouldn’t bother her much. Maybe she was just too stressed or something.

But she couldn’t help but remember the fact that she hadn’t been refilling her birth control prescription for the past, oh, six months maybe. (It was a waste. She wasn’t even dating anyone.) And she didn’t remember Nicholas putting a condom on. She had been too caught up in the moment, too interested in what was about to happen. It had been a long time for her.

How often did she get picked up by a sexy man like that, anyway?

This morning, she had put on sweat pants and a baseball hat, an outfit she never would have permitted herself to leave the house in under normal circumstances. She slipped down to the drugstore and bought two pregnancy tests, taking special care to hide her face. She didn’t want anyone to realize it was her.

The alarm finally beeped, and Marilyn leapt for the little white stick on the counter. She stared at it for a second, closed her eyes, and then opened them. It was one of those digital ones that spelled out in plain English whether or not you were pregnant.

Apparently she was.

“It’s wrong.” She said to no one. “It can’t be right. There’s no way that thing is right. I’ll just wait like, fifteen minutes and take the other.” It sounded like a good plan.

Except Marilyn got distracted. She had to do the dishes that had been staking up, and then read her mail, then her e-mail, then start some laundry. In fact, she forgot about the whole thing until it was bedtime. By then, she rationalized that she was already in bed. She could wait until morning.

**

Marilyn sat again on the toilet lid the next morning. She didn’t fuss and fidget, didn’t get up and pace. She sat with her hands clasped as though in prayer, resting her lips against them.

It was going to come back negative. It had to come back negative. There was no way she could be pregnant. She had a job, but it didn’t pay enough for her to take care of a baby. She had no man, no money, and no family.

The minutes stretched on endlessly. Marilyn let her eyes close. She thought back to Nicholas. She hadn’t spoken to him since that night. She had gone back to the club, but he hadn’t been there. And she didn’t know the name of his hotel. Sure, she could have driven around Vegas until she found it, but he was probably already gone. There was no way she could find him.

Marilyn was most definitely on her own. She bit her lip as the timer on her cell phone beeped once again. It was time to reach out and face the music. She needed to know, needed to make doctor’s appointments, make phone calls, think of something. There was always the adoption agency.

God. She had never though she would end up like this. She was twenty two for God’s sake. A full grown woman. She was supposed to have her shit together, supposed to know who she was and what she wanted from life.

I really want Nicholas. She sighed to herself. It was ridiculous to want him. She knew how one night stands went. Then again, she also knew they weren’t supposed to end in a baby.

Marilyn reached out and took the last pregnancy test. She looked at the read out. The letters blurred through her tears. Pregnant. Pregnant pregnant pregnant. What the hell was she going to do now?

She stood up and threw the test at the wall with a scream. The scream turned into two, and then dissolved into sobs. Crying, she slumped down onto the floor, her back against the cool porcelain of the bathtub.

She pressed her hands to her stomach.

“It isn’t your fault.” She sniffled. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just scared. But don’t worry, I’ll think of something. Okay? So don’t be worried.” Marilyn knew she was more talking to herself, but she figured it couldn’t hurt to do this.

***

Criss sat at his desk, pushing his pen back and forth. Hammie sat on his lap, watching. Every now and then his paw would reach out to bat idly at the pen. Neither one of them were really putting their hearts into it.

“Criss, is there something wrong.” JD was in the room, doing paper work. “You haven’t seemed yourself lately.”

“I’m fine, I guess.” He scrubbed his hands down his face. “I just… I don’t know. I’m lonely.”

“You’re lonely? You’re always surrounded by people. How can you be lonely?” JD’s brow knit in confused. Criss could only shrug, worrying his brother further. Usually he was so articulate, could say exactly what he was feeling. It was strange to see Criss not be able to vocalize what he wanted.

“I know. But none of them are really the one that I want.”

“Who do you want?” JD asked softly. Criss went quiet and started playing with the pen again. Hammie had clearly lost interest, leapt off his lap and went to go and find a nice place to nap. Criss could only sigh.

He knew who he wanted. He wanted Marilyn Grace back. He wanted to see those golden eyes again, wanted to see her smile. But how could he? He had packed her up and sent her away before she was even properly awake. Criss had avoided going back to the club for fear that he might see her again.

But he wanted to see her. He knew he couldn’t know though. She had probably forgotten all about him. She had probably moved on; found someone else who could love her. Why had he ever been so stupid?

Criss stood up from his desk and walked to the window. The sun was just starting to go down. Of course, it wasn’t as pretty as it could have been. There was so much light pollution in Las Vegas. But the sky was tinted the faintest shade of gold. It made him almost want to cry.

“I don’t want anyone, J.D. Forget I said anything about it.”
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A Moth Into A Butterfly