Monica was rushing down the streets in despair, trying to get as far away from Stafford Terrace, and the man living in it, as fast as she could, and struggling to run properly in her impractically high shoes and sore feet and find a red telephone box in an area that wasn't deserted but also wasn't majorly busy either.

People turned and watched as she staggered past them in a flash. An old lady or two asked her if she was alright, and as much as she wanted to collapse at their feet, beg for help, and pout out her feelings, but she ignored them as she rounded every street corner. Her fear told her to keep running and running, and not stop for anything or anyone except a red telephone box.

Eventually she slipped into one, and luckily she still had her evening bag slung on her shoulder, containing her money and address and contacts book. She slammed the door shut before breathlessly leaning up against the glass window pane, her heart practically beating out of her chest. She waited for a good few minutes until eventually she caught up with her breaths and she was able to think straight enough to make decisions.

With numb, unsteady fingers she slipped her change into the slot and dialled the Deacon household, the only family in London that she felt safe with (other than the Bulsaras, they were in India visiting relatives, and they lived about an two hours away by train anyway). She would've telephoned her family in Belfast, only she feared that they would start shaming her and say, "I told you so.", she decided to keep them as Plan B. She held the receiver to her ear, unable to control her rapid, panicky breathing and shaking hands, and waited...

"Hello?" A groggy John picked up.

"John?" Monica's voice quivered. "I'm sorry I'm calling so late but you have to help me."

"Monica?" His voice grew concerned on the other end. "W-What happened-"

"Oh John he was so scary!" She sobbed, unable to hold her tears back any longer. "I've never seen him like that before! I-I had to get out of there! He started breaking a glass and everything!"

John, hearing her pain and desperation, and knowing knowing how severe his temper could get, he knew that he had to get there quickly. Her words summed it up.

"Where are you now?!" He stepped into his slippers.

She peered out the window to look at a nearby building with the street name on its sign and told him. But at the same time, a man of the night in a long brown coat and with greying hair had noticed the lone, pretty young girl dressed up in her fine party gear inside the box, although looking and sounding conflicted, and approached it with dark intentions...

"Alright, I'll be there as soon as I can." Deaky said, and she could just about hear the relieving sound of clanking car keys on the other end.

"But there's a man outside the door! And he's smirking at me! What do I do?" She whimpered.

"Just... just pretend to keep talking on the telephone, alright? I'll go as fast as I can."

She nodded with trembling lips as soon as he hung up.

For the next several minutes, through her confusion and fright she pretended to be in deep conversation, fake nodding and smiling, slotting make-believe coins into the machine and casually leaning against the box wall as the stranger tapped his foot impatiently, waiting not for the phone but for the girl.

And finally, Deaky pulled up onto the curb and rushed to the box when he saw her in it.

"Excuse me..." he reached to open the door, but the man stepped in front of him.

"There's a girl in there." The man crossed his arms.

"I know, and I think you will find that she's with me." John said patiently as Monica opened the door a crack and called his name out.

"John?!"

"Oh. My apologies." With disappointment the man obediently moved out of the way to allow her to step out, and she rushed into John's arms.

"You don't really need to use the phone, do you?" John asked the stranger, zipping a sullen Monica's coat up, and as clever as he was he gave him no time to answer. "No you don't. You best be off. This girl has had enough of men this evening."

He sighed and walked back into the night, and John pulled her back into a hug again, "Are you alright?"

She nodded through the tears, "Thank you so much John. Thank you. I'm sorry I woke you at this hour."

"It's alright. I'll take you back. Best be quiet though. Veronica and Robert will be asleep. Well, Robert anyway..." John put his arm around her and helped her into his car.

He drove her back to his home and helped her into the sitting room, where Veronica was waiting with a hot drink and a blanket for her.

"Oh Monica" she helped her husband sit the distraught girl down. "You poor thing..."

"Thank you both..." she snivelled as she sipped. "You don't know what this means, honestly."

"It's alright. Take a moment to relax." John rubbed her shoulder gently before going upstairs.

"Monica!" I small voice chirped excitedly.

Little Robert was standing at the doorway, peeping his head around the doorway.

"Robert!" She genuinely smiled for the first time in hours as he ran over to her, and she opened her arms.

"What happened?" He looked up at her, perched on her lap. "Why you crying? Where's Freddie-"

"Freddie is back at the flat. Monica got a little upset over something he did and said." John returned to the room with a box of tissues.

"Bunny Fred?" The boy looked up as his mum rubbed his head.

"Yes" his parents giggled uneasily, but for Monica it was painful.

"But he's... He-He read me a bedtime story when we to live by the sea-"

"It's time you went back to bed now sweetheart." Veronica immediately picked the little boy up. "Say goodnight to Monica."

"Nanight!" He waved over his mum's shoulder, and she smiled and waved back as John bent down to her.

When they disappeared John wiped her wet cheeks gently with a tissue, traces of makeup smeared on them.

"Do you want to talk about it at all?" He asked gently.

"Well, it is kind of complicated." She snivelled.

"Please try your best." He held her hand in his. "I promise you it'll help you feel better. Plus, I'm an electronic whizz. 'Complicated' is my middle name."

She nodded and and giggled a little, and took a deep breath, "...well, you might as well know because Freddie sort of knows now too... today I went to the doctor and I'm-I'm going to have a baby."

He squeezed her hand and smiled a little.

"Oh Monica that's wonderful. Congrats!"

"Is it though, John?" She wiped her eyes. "I don't know how to feel about it now."

"Well, of course it is." He said, a little perplexed. "What happened that made it less so?"

She smiled a little, "thank you John. I-I wanted to keep it a surprise from F-Freddie, and I planned for a day out with him on Saturday to tell him then. But tonight he insisted on going out to the club to spend some time with me."

She hesitated as John nodded, "take your time..."

"And... later on in the night I saw the doctor who tested me this morning standing at the bar, waiting for his wife to arrive. I'm still unsure about what I'm going to do and how to cope with the morning sickness so I asked him for some advice because I-I am genuinely scared for this... motherhood, I mean, and Freddie saw me talking to the doctor and..." she started to sob.

John was getting the gist of it now.

"He was jealous because you were talking to a man"

She nodded as Veronica came back into the room and settled herself down on the sofa beside her and continued, "also, he was talking to his ex Mary but that didn't bother me at all because I know she's only in charge of his accounts now and I trust..." she stopped herself.

"What is it?" John asked gently as she looked down at her lap, tears on her lashes.

"Trusted him." She let out, and Veronica rubbed her back soothingly. "I trusted him until we got back..."

She stopped herself again, much to John's understanding. She wouldn't dare call the flat home.

"He was nothing like the kind, soft spoken man I'd met in the nightclub... he changed." She whispered. "The words he used... oh lord they were so vicious!"

She sobbed into her hands as John and Veronica glanced at each other with empathetic expressions; John only knew from past experiences in the studio how nasty things could get.

"He called me pathetic, a "money-sucking leech..." and something along the lines of-" she began to sob louder. "Something along the lines of "you should be working in a brothel"... and he said that the Day-out on Saturday that I'd planned was only there to hide the truth of an affair and-and that he sometimes wished that he stayed with Mary"

The couple held her in between them on that sofa, knowing rightly that these were words that she definitely didn't deserve to hear. Knowing that Freddie called the 'nice young girl from Ireland' those things made John very, very angry at him.

"I was never in it for money. I was in it for the love" she rubbed her eyes. "I remember the moment I first looked at him I loved him, rich or not. All I saw was a wonderful, beautiful person."

"We believe you," Veronica held her hand. "You have always been so humble."

John nodded, "you're perfect girlfriend material."

"Definitely. For his every need. You don't even need to try hard like most rockstars' girlfriends." Veronica chuckled.

"Yeah," John smiled. "You're just 'you', and you're perfect for him."

She blushed and snivelled, "I thought he knew how much I loved him... considering I gave myself to him I thought he'd know to treat me better..."

"Oh Monica... you don't deserve this." John held her other hand. "You wanted to surprise him and you both happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and he got the wrong idea. His problem, not yours."

She nodded and snivelled, pulling the blanket around her a little tighter.

"I-I still really love him. But after last night I don't know if he loves me the same."

John took her chin in his hand gently and in all seriousness, he spoke, "You can take or leave what I'm about to say next. But Freddie does love you. He can turn into a monster at times and he always has problems losing his temper but really, he means well and he's got a heart of gold. His good side always triumphs."

Her lower lip trembled a little, "you think so?"

"I know so" John said as Veronica nodded.

Of course she did feel some reassurance, but either way she knew that she was going to see him again and she didn't like the uncertainty.

"Would you like us to take you to the spare bedroom?" Veronica asked in an attempt to ease her mood, and she nodded.

The two helped her up, and showed her to the guest room. Illuminated by a single lamp it was very basic and a little colder than her and Freddie's bedroom-

She winced at the thought of him. She didn't know where to turn. She knew that he was out to get her. She went to close the curtains to make herself feel more protected from the outside world. But so far, the Deacons' optimism was the only thing telling her that it'd be alright.

"I'll get you another blanket." Veronica fixed her duvet, snapping the girl out of her miserable thoughts. "Otherwise your feet will get cold."

"Thank you," Monica smiled and turned to her. "Sorry for all the hassle."

"Not at all. You know, of you ever need an ear for these things, Veronica and I are always in reach" John smiled, and Veronica took his hand and nodded.

"Honestly I-I don't know how to pay you back" she snivelled as she sat down in the bed.

"Don't worry!" The couple interjected.

"I'll make sure you two get a free three course dinner at work... I will talk to Christina about it," She smiled, then frowned. "That is, if I decide to stay."

"Don't worry about any of that now." Veronica assured her, laying another blanket onto her duvet.

"Just get some sleep and think of something nice." John suggested.

He meant good, but the only nice thing that she could think of wasn't what it had seemed, and it made her wince.

"Thanks." She smiled uneasily as she opened the covers.

"Let us know if there is a problem." Veronica said as they hovered at the doorway.

She nodded as she unstrapped her heels, placing them at her feet, "of course. Thank you."

"It's alright." They both said as John grabbed the door handle. "Sleep well."

She waved as they left and shut the door behind them.

Numbly, she reached over to shut the lamp off before settling under the duvet. A few moments of shifting and trying to get comfortable her body and mind finally settled. For the next half hour she tried to think of her happy childhood memories, her dreams, her future plans...

But they still went back to Freddie.

......................................................................................................

Around half an hour later, John snuck to the downstairs phone and decided to call the flat. He knew that it was a risky move that could backfire if he told Freddie where Monica went, but he never asked her for permission to telephone her boyfriend and deep down he knew that they loved each other just by watching them together, and that Freddie would likely be worrying where Monica had gone to.

"Hello?!" Freddie answered with a sense of hope and urgency. "Monica?! Love, is that you? Are you alright?! Tell me where you are! Oh please come back-"

The tone of voice was a good sign to Deaky.

"It's John. Just so you know, Monica is alright. She's in our guest bedroom."

"Oh thank goodness!" Freddie sighed with relief "Can I speak to her?"

"She's asleep." John said flatly.

"Please... please, John." He said a little more pleadingly.

"Leave it for the morning." John said firmly. "I just want to let you know that she is safe with us."

"Can't you at least bring her back over to the flat?" Freddie's voice cracked.

"...You love her, don't you?" John asked with a bit more sympathy.

"Y-Yes." He tried to respond calmly. "Yes I do love her. She's-She's the best thing."

"Then leave her be just for tonight. Come over in the morning. She has had an exhausting day. She's found out some big, life-changing news, you- I don't even want to know what you did or said to her. She gave us an idea of what you said."

"Oh fuck... she told you?"

John sighed, "Yeah. And I can't believe it myself... Then, when she telephoned me for help a man tried to abduct her" and Freddie gasped on the other end. "Now, I don't think she is fit to see the man who got her in this state in the first place, do you?"

"N-No. I just want her to be happy." He admitted.

"She wants the same for you, Freddie. She didn't tell you that she was pregnant because it was meant to be a surprise. That's what the day-out was for. She was going to tell you then."

"...So it's true?" He asked hopefully. "I'm going to be a father?"

John was prepared to be cautious "...Yes. The man she was talking to at the bar was her doctor. She was asking for some early stage pregnancy advice."

"Oh fuck... so she was right?!"

"I suppose." Was all John could say.

"She's going ahead with it? Are you sure it's what she wants?"

"You're asking the wrong person."

"...does she still love me?"

John sighed and took a deep breath.

"Freddie, she dropped everything to be with you. She dropped a chance of third level education and a career and left behind her family and friends and home for you and she is still only young, finding her feet. But, her life is only beginning and now she's having your baby, and they both need you. The evidence is right in front of you." John said flatly. "Of course she loves you. She even said so herself."

"B-But I didn't know-" Freddie blubbered.

"I know you didn't know about the baby," John interrupted. "But you don't have a clue how much she loves you and it doesn't matter if you didn't know; drunk or not that is no way to treat someone, especially her. You've hurt her, frightened her as well. Made her feel small."

"Oh my sweet, sweet Monica... W-What have I done to her?!" He blubbered down the phone. "I'm a fucking monster. My whole bloody life I have treated people like shit when I didn't get my way and they deserved none of it... even my own mother but her-" he sobbed. "I used to scare my own mum and I've probably scared her too... I know I've scared her. What good of a father am I going to be if I can't control myself? She is going to say no to the ring-"

"You bought her a ring?" Deaky interrupted, secretly feeling delighted.

"Yes... I was going to propose to her on the day-out actually... but I think that I'll just return the bloody thing and get a refund, and give her the money to use for transport services back home," he babbled. "It's the right size and everything... I took along one of her other rings that she wears on the right finger with me..."

"Keep the ring, Freddie." He ordered.

"What?" He blubbered.

"Just in case." He said. "Trust me, you might regret it. You don't know what she has to say-"

"Thank you, John. I will... I'll do that. But I don't think that there's any point."

"Oh Fred-" John started, but Freddie, still feeling utterly remorseful and angry at himself, slammed the phone down.

It was such a shame because John was going to offer him some reassurance and explain that Monica didn't talk bitterly of him once. It certainly would've helped him sleep better.

John sighed and put the phone back on the cradle, before going upstairs to bed.

Alone with their painful thoughts and fears, the night to come was horrible. Tears streamed down their faces as each silent minute past, their anguished minds. She felt as if she had no way out, and he felt as if there was no way of mending her trust in him. If he asked her now, she'd only say no and ditch the silver diamond.

Still, shortly after the phone call he tucked the light turquoise Tiffany box away in his bedside drawer, taking John's advice.

Just in case, he told himself with a pinch of faith as he shuffled back under the covers.

Neither of them wanted the light of dawn to peep through the curtains, but they still just wanted to make amends and be in each others' arms once more.

They just didn't want to have to do it the hard way.

They were going to have to go through the sleepless night and wait until morning to decide, and the decision was on Monica...