Metal Chains {Dylan O'Brien}

Epilogue

    "Hey, Katy? I'm going to the store to pick up some things for dinner, do you need anything?" I hear Dylan call from the kitchen. We were definitely running low on just about everything. I sit my book down on my bedside table and jump out of bed. "Um, hold on let me check." I call back. Dylan pokes his head through the small crack in the door just as I half walk, half run to the bathroom. I hear him chuckling and shush him. "Don't laugh at me, butt face. That's how I run!" I call out to him. I hear him laugh even louder, just to tease me no doubt.

    I shuffle around the bathroom, opening our cabinets and making sure we have everything we need. We're (surprisingly) fully stocked on toothpaste and mouthwash, and we have enough conditioner to wait a couple weeks are so to buy more, but barely any shampoo. "Maybe some more shampoo!" I call out to him. He enters the bathroom and looks at me kneeling to look in the cabinet under the sink. I glance up. "You know the kind I get by now, right?" I ask. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him nod.

    Just as I'm about the close the cabinet under the sink and tell him that's all, I notice a small box of Tampax just behind his shampoo. I realize that the last time I bought any feminine toiletries was almost three months ago, right before my last period. I wrap my fingers around the small box and pull it out of the cabinet, knocking over a shampoo bottle or two in the process. "Dylan..." I mutter, anxiety filling my chest. I stand up with shaking legs and look at him. He stares at me. "What's wrong? Do you need more? Obviously, I'll go buy them for you."

    I clutch the counter with one hand and the box with the other. "Dylan, I... I may need...a-a pregnancy test." I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and see that I look paler than usual. Dylan steps toward me, resting a hand on my waist and looking down at me with wide eyes. "A- are you sure?" he whispers, looking over my face and brushing my bangs away from my face. I nod, feeling the gentle weight of my hand on the top of my head. "I-I'm late. I'm really late, Dylan." I explain. Dylan backs away and nods, running a hand through his hair and turning just as pale as me.

"Okay. Okay I'll be right back."

    He sprints out the door and I sit on the toilet seat with my head in my hands. What if I'm really pregnant? Will I even make a good mother? I sit with my head between my knees and take a couple deep breathes. Calm down, Katy. You have Dylan, he would be the best father in the world and he'll be here to help you. Breathe. The possibility of having Dylan's child is exciting and terrifying.

    Before long, Dylan comes rushing back in, a small rectangular box in his hands. He exchanges a look with me as he sits the box on the counter and helps me up from the floor. I pick up the test and look at it, reading all of the phony advertisements about accuracy. He lingers outside the door, leaning on the wall while I handle my business. I wash my hands and exit the bathroom, where Dylan is waiting, anxiously fumbling with his hands. He turns to me when I exit and looks at me with a nervous expression. I tuck my hair behind my ear and look down at the ground.

"It'll say in a few minutes." I mumble.

    A minute passes and I slide down the wall. He sits down on the ground next to me, takes my hand and sighs. Another moment passes before he speaks. "You know, on the entire drive back, I was thinking how good of a mom you'd be." I look over at him and bite my bottom lip to hide the grin creeping onto my face. "Thank you, Dylan... You'd definitely be a great dad." I tell him. He turns his head toward me and we look into each other's eyes for a long moment. I sigh and rest my head on his shoulder. The rest of the wait is completely silent.

    Eventually, I decide that we've waited long enough and I pull myself up from the ground to go see if the results are in. I look at myself in the mirror and place a hand on my stomach. There could be a baby forming in there right now. I take a deep breath and look over at the test  across the counter. Now is the time to find out. I look at Dylan, who's lingering in the doorway as I pinch the stick between two fingers. I hold my breath and look at the stick.

"Dylan?" I look over at him, a grin spreading across my face. "Call the doctor."