Carmella watched as Mike got down on one knee. Her brain chanted a frightened, heart-tugging mantra. No. No. No. No. He can't be. Not-- As close as they were, after professing love, she'd always dreaded the moment that he would make it go farther. She knew she'd never be able to give him the things in life he wanted, he needed. He was 31 years old, and still no family. And with her--

"Mella, baby, I love you. Will you-- will you marry me?"

Her heart stopped. The heart-shaped diamonds sparkled in the light. She turned her eyes to the others and didn't know what to say. He would pick a time when everyone else was around. How could she break his heart with them all looking at her. She turned back to Mike and felt herself starting to cry.

Mike took her tears and silence for a yes and slowly began to slide the ring on her finger. He'd known for a while, since the funeral, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. That he wanted to grow old with Carmella and play with their children and grandchildren. He loved her more than anything.

She tried. Everything in her tried to pull away, but she couldn't. As he stood and kissed her, tears fell harder and faster. Mike stepped back and she looked from him to the ring. She dropped her arm to her side and stepped back. "Mike-- I--" She couldn't say anything, instead choosing to run from the room.

Sean looked at him and shrugged. "Go after her," he told him. Mike stood in confusion, staring at the open doorway. His body began to realize that he wanted to move and he followed her out the door. He finally caught up with her halfway down the hall and turned her to him.

"Mella? Baby, what is it?"

"Mike-- I--"

"Don't you want to marry me?"

"God, baby, yes. I do. It's just--" She stepped back, taking a shaky breath. "I can't give you what you want."

"You're what I want."

"But, you want more. A family, children, the whole nine yards. And-- I can't give you that."

"Why? You don't want--"

"No, baby, no," she said, quickly cutting him off. "I want to. God, I want to. I just-- Mike--" Her hand went absently to her stomach as she stared into his eyes. "I can't."

He moved to her, tentatively, and she stepped back. Carmella turned away from him, unable to look at him. Mike walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. He tried to turn her back, but she put every ounce of strength she had in staying away. "Baby-- why?"

"I--" Carmella sighed. She could feel the tears and pain coming back to her as the memories flooded her. The burning pain through her body, starting in her abdomen, and spreading. The months in the hospital, infection after infection. It was just another reason for her to despise her family and their life.

Slowly, she turned to Mike. He saw the pain and fear in her eyes and went to her, arms outstretched. Carmella stepped back and he let his arms fall, biting back a question. "I was thirteen," she started, her voice low. Her arms came up, and she hugged herself. She was suddenly so cold, so frozen with over a decade's fear.

"It was my eighth grade graduation. I--" She stopped, closing her eyes. "I was leaving, with my family and-- the bullets came out of nowhere. They were everything. I felt Bobby pull me down, but-- it was too late."

"Baby," he whispered. Once more, he went to her and yet again, she stepped back.

"Two bullets in the stomach. They were surprised I even lived." She grunted, disgustedly. "At times, I wish I hadn't."

"Don't-- dont' say that."

"Mike-- it left me defective. I got so many infections and my insides were mangled and-- long and short of it? We don't use condoms cause even if your guys made it up there, there's nowhere to put a baby. It's gone. Nothing can survive inside of me. I'm defective as hell and I hate it."

Mike went to her again, and this time fought to hold her. She struggled, tried to pull away, but Mike wouldn't let her. He didn't know what to say. Yes, he'd wanted kids, but he didn't want to lose her just because of that. And to hear her talk of herself in such a way-- it broke his heart. He didn't know what to say to stop her thoughts, and he didn't know if she'd listen to anything he could say anyway. But, as he held her in his arms, he knew, no matter what, he couldnt' let her go.

The others watched quietly as Mike brought Carmella back to the room. He laid her down, gently, her eyes still puffy with tears. Mike pulled the covers to her chin and rubbed her forehead. He leaned down, gently pressing his lips to her smooth skin and whispered, "Rest, baby." She murmurred softly, then curled up in ball.

Mike ushered the others out of the room and closed the door, leaving it open just a little. "Is everything alright?" Sean asked him.

"I don't know," he answered, honestly.

"The wedding?" Chuck asked him.

"As far as I know it's still on."

"What's wrong?" Emmaline spoke up.

Mike looked at her, then the others, then sighed. They were best friends, family. And he wanted to tell them. To let them all help her, but he knew that he couldn't do that. It wasn't his place to tell. With another, heavier sigh, he leaned against the wall. "I can't say."

"Mike--"

"Look, Shawn, I can't. If Mella wants to tell it, then it's hers to tell." He heard a moan coming from the room and stood upright. "I have to go. I'll see you guys tomorrow?" They all looked at him in confusion and caring, but nodded reluctantly.

Mike went back inside and crawled next to her in the bed. He pulled Carmella's whimpering form into his arms and held her tightly. She fought against him at first, trying to break free of the restraints of his embrace. Mike smoothed her hair, cooed softly to her, and finally she settled down.

He held her in her slumber, trying to find a way to fix things. But, deep in his heart, he knew he couldn't. If she chose to return his ring, to break off their relationship, he knew that he couldn't stop it. All he could do was let her know that she was loved and that no matter what she thought was wrong with her, he'd always be there for her. He would always love her.

While the thought of not having children with her hurt him to the core, he could get over it. They could adopt. They could-- Hell, he didn't know all of their options. But, what he did know, was that he loved her and that he couldn't lose her. While he would have loved to watch his child grow within her womb, that lack thereof was not enough to make him no longer care. Nothing could stop his love.

Blood. So much blood. The thick crimson liquid spread around her in a pool. The consistency thickened and hardened on her skin. Her brother’s hands covered hers. Her mother’s tear drops dampened her forehead. She coughed, and the coppery sweetness coated her tongue. “Papa,” she said weakly. Her blurring vision caught sight of him, pressing down on her abdomen, trying to stop the bleeding.

She screamed. But, the sound was for just a second. No sooner than the sharp pain had come, it disappeared, leaving her with nothing but coldness, emptiness. “Papa,” she muttered again and he raised one blood-stained hand to her forehead. “Mia bambina,” he whispered. My baby. His baby was dying, her life leaking out onto his hands, the ground, everywhere that it shouldn’t be. My baby, he thought. Not my baby...

Carmella woke with a start. Her hands roamed her midsection. She rose the loose shirt she wore, searching for holes. Long ago, had the scars from her ordeal healed, but she still felt them. Blind-folded, she could pinpoint exactly where the bullets had gone in. She could trace the lines from her surgery, and even thought she could tell the exact spot from which her bane of womanhood had been taken from her.

Mike sat up and turned to her. He didn’t move, just watched. Her hands made a path across her skin, feeling, poking, prodding. Her lips moved slightly as she spoke silently to herself. Her head turned to him and she sighed. Slowly, she took his fingers and led them across the path that she had marked with her own touch.

“This one,” she said softly, “was a bullet.”

“It--”

“No scar. But-- I remember.” She moved a little more. “That-- oh, no, that’s just an appendix scar when I was eight. Now, this--” She stopped and let his finger linger. “This was the longest incision. It was so ugly, I remember. The scar was.”

“Baby-- you don’t have to.”

“I do it all the time. Everytime I see a child with its mother and think--” She sighed. “I can’t help it.” Carmella turned her eyes to him, and they held a lifetime of pain and anger and frustration. “My father paid so much money to have those scars removed, but-- I know. No matter what you see, they’re still there.” She lowered her head and leaned back, looking at her flat stomach. She whispered, “They’ll always be there.”

Mike encompassed her in his arms and leaned back, pulling her tighter into his embrace. “You’re letting it kill you,” he said softly. “You can’t do that.”

“What else can I do?” She sighed, feeling his chest rise and fall against her.

“You can let me help you. Let us help you.”

“Mike--”

“They’re your family, baby. They wanna help.”

“You didn’t--”

“No. No, I didn’t. That’s for you to decide. But--” Mike sighed and closed his eyes. He let them open slowly, then looked down at her. “I have to ask you-- are you going to marry me?”

“I don’t deserve you,” she said softly. “You deserve better than this.”

“I love you, Mella. Yes, I’d love to have a baby with you, but if we can’t-- There are other ways. I just want to be with you.”

“I can’t do that to you.”

“Let me decide that?”

She turned to look him in the eyes. Carmella could see his need, his love for her, but inside of her, she felt-- She didn’t know what she felt or knew or thought she knew, except that she didn’t want to hinder him. She didn’t want him to think he had to settle. With an exasperated sigh, she laid back against him. Could she really give this up? His arms around her, his love permeating her skin, just-- him? She didn’t know, but there was another question. Could she live with herself, every time they passed a couple with their own blood children, knowing that with someone else he could have had that? Could she be so selfish?

Carmella had been the last to arrive at the arena. Mike had been reluctant to leave without her, but she told him to go. She needed some time alone. She needed to think about her choices. What her life would be with and without Mike. What path she should follow. Just-- everything.

She walked solemnly into the locker room. Her head was hung low, her shoulders hunched. The door closed slowly behind her and she leaned her back against the cool metal. Her eyes were glued to her left hand, hanging languidly by her side. The diamond which she had never removed, sparkled in the light. Tentatively, she rose her head to the others.

“Don’t say anything. Just let me talk.” She sighed. Mike moved to her and she rose her hand. “No. I-- I have to do this.” She sighed again and let her eyes fall on them all. Mark, Sean, Emmaline, Shawn, Chuck and Reno. “I was thirteen years old,” she began.

Carmella watched their expressions, listened to the collective gasps as she told her tale. Their eyes held such pain for her and she could tell that they wanted to help. She turned her gaze to Mike and bit her lip. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. She wanted to go to him, to let her hold him, to love him. But, instead, as she gazed into his eyes, she rose her hand and slowly slid the ring from her finger.

“Mike, I love you so much. But-- I can’t let you settle.” Her body shook with fear and pain. Memories mixed with a forboding future without him. He moved to her, took the ring, and put it back on her finger.

“Anyone else would be settling.”

“But-- I know what you want. You can’t--”

“I love you. We’ll figure the rest out. Just-- please, don’t leave me.”
“Please, don’t,” Reno said, walking over. “Cause then, you’d probably quit.”

“And then he’d whine,” Chuck said.

“And we ALL hate a whiny Mike Sanders,” Sean told her. Emmaline came over and shook her head.

“I’ll get the worst of it,” she said. “Cause he’ll whine, and that’ll make Sean whine and then--”

“Hey, Red! Cut it out!” Sean smiled and reached out to Carmella. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. She squealed in surprise and he shook her. “Now, listen up you.” He spanked her playfully and she squealed again.

“What was that for!” she screamed.

“For being stubborn. Now, listen. You’re gonna marry Mikey, have a nice life. We’re kids enough for ya. And if ya want more-- I’m sure you can buy ‘em off the black market or something.”

Carmella felt a laugh erupting in her as Sean passed her around the room and each Thriller took their turn with the spankings. Finally, they handed her off to Mike and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. She held him as though he were the only thing keeping her afloat and without him, she knew she’d surely drown. “I love you,” she whispered. “So much.”

“I love you, too,” he told her. “Now-- can we start planning a wedding?”

She laughed and kissed him softly. “Yeah-- We can start planning our life.”