Jagged Little Pill

Captain Steven Hale

You know it's bad when you start listening exclusively to Alanis Morissette. That was what Steven thought as he barked out an order to the computer to replay the track. He knew he'd hit rock bottom when he went on this kind of music bender. It was almost as if he no longer had the capacity to choose a different style or artist. But this was the ultimate pit's very rocky bottom. The way he'd described it to his best friend BJ was "You know that bottomless pit? It ain't so bottomless coz I just hit it." He felt like a car accident. Not simply like he'd been in one, but the whole fucking accident. He was the written-off car, the spectators watching in mute shock and the poor bastard laying on the curb bleeding to death. He'd been told he didn't look much better than that either.

The look on her face when he'd told her that he was filing for a divorce. The fucking love of his life and he'd probably never see her again except to finalise the settlement. Irreparable differences was what he'd told her but he saw the weight of understanding in her eyes. She'd killed their baby. Without discussing it with him. His son. She hadn't even told him she was pregnant. The first he'd heard was when the CMO of her ship had contacted hi to tell him something had gone wrong with the abortion procedure and could they have his permission to do further surgery.

He'd stared at the guy, mumbling out a "Yeah, sure..." then... "An abortion? What d'you mean an abortion?"

Compassion filled Sylvester Davidson's eyes as he said, "It should have been a simple procedure but the problems with your baby has caused serious complications."

"My baby?" Numbness filled his veins.

Sylvester blinked but nodded. "Hasn't your wife discussed all of this with you?" When all steven did was shake his head, the fellow doctor frowned. "Lieutenant Charlotte Hale decided that because of everything wrong with your son and because there was no way we could guarantee quality of life, she wanted an abortion."

My son, he thought, the idea trickling through his mind like melting ice. "What was wrong with him, Doctor?" Steven asked as the lead weights dragged at his soul.

"Look, Captain Hale, I really think you should discuss this with your wife."

"I don't want to discuss it with my wife, damnit, I want you to tell me!" His eyes blazed as he sat forward. "Tell me exactly what was wrong with me and skip the layman's terms. I ain't no prissy know-nothin' with a degree in damn pseudo-medicine! I trained at the same damn Academy as you did."

"Yes, Doctor," Sylvester said carefully. He let out a sigh and visibly sagged i his chair. The Lieutenant had said she'd spoken to her husband. She'd even signed a waver saying he agreed to the surgery. Slowly, he described all of the findings of the prenatal exam in full clinical detail. The baby had an under-formed set of lungs and heart. He was going to be deaf and blind. They could already see the first signed of brain damage even at six weeks. The prediction made had been that the boy wouldn't live past six and that at best he'd be cripplingly autistic and on a permanent ventilator, at worst he'd be a vegetable.

Each complication, each illness, each symptom was like a punch to Steven's gut. "But there'd be a chance," he whispered. "I've read... in journals... other kids like him?"

Sylvester inclined his head then nodded. "But only very slim. We would have had to induce birth very early and then operate on both mother and child the moment he was born. It would have been gruelling for both."

"But there was a chance."

"Yes, Captain."

Steven just nodded. He agreed to the further surgery, sent over the appropriate forms and stopped thinking. As the screen fizzled blank, he stared at it, his shoulders slumping until he was totally hunched over with the weight of his grief.