"Just sign your name here," the lawyer casually pointed to the dotted line on the paper, "and that's it."

"That's it? Just sign and go?" Stacy questioned looking at the white paper and then to her mother, who throughout the whole meeting just remained still and said nothing. That was highly unusual for Stacy, normally anything that had anything to do with her life; her mom asked a million questions over and over.

"Yes, Ms. Sterling. Sign your signature and the adoption process is over." Stacy then looked into the hopeful eyes of Kelly, the woman who was maybe in her late twenties. It still struck the sixteen year old odd why Kelly wanted her baby. Stacy of course knew that there was something special about her baby because the father was someone special. But he disappeared before he knew about the child. He was simply gone one day. No goodbye. No note. Just gone.

"Okay," she answered and grabbed the pen next to the papers. But when she tried to write in her chicken-scratch way, no ink came out. "Oh, I think I need another pen." Not a moment too soon did the lawyer with friendly brown eyes hand her another one but didn't work either, "Uh, I seem to have a problem." She smiled, and saw Kelly scribble on her paper with a different pen.

"This one works," she decided and passed it to her.

Stacy smiled gratefully and took it; trying to avoid the feeling in her stomach that there was a reason those pens did not work; and it didn't help that her seven month old baby in her stomach choose that moment to kick. She stared at the signature line and started to sign but abruptly looked up. "I'm sorry," she peered into Kelly's frightened eyes, "I can't do this."

"What do you mean?" She heard Kelly's voice cry desperately, but Stacy was already out the door and running (or breaking into a quick paced waddle) for the elevator.

--

She felt relieved as she walked out the door, revealing a busy, hot Atlanta day. This was going to be for the best. She had already stopped going to school last April after finding out that she was indeed pregnant. It's not like raising a baby would destroy her future career, which currently consisted of working at a diner. She didn't even realize she was still holding the adoption papers until it gave her a small cut. She folded them into her jeans.

"Yes, you are very wise to make such a decision."

Stacy turned her head away from the bustling traffic as she was trying to hail a cab to the deep male voice that had just startled her.

"I'm sorry," she started facing the elderly man with striking storm cloud gray eyes (which reminded her of her lost love) and dressed in formal attire, "but are you talking to me?"

The man smiled genuinely, "Yes," and her heart raced began racing. Her hand instinctively covered her belly. "You were a very wise young lady to keep such a special child."

Stacy desperately looked to see if any taxis were stopping to pick her up. She really didn't need some man, who probably had some weird obsession with children, talking to her. She looked again at the busy roads. No cabs were coming her.

Maybe, she just needed some breathing room for a moment, and turned back around to reenter the building.

"Stacy Sterling, you don't realize what a special child you have." he stopped her as her hand caressed the doorknob.

"Look," She trembled, both confused and terrified, "I have no idea who you are. Just le-leave me alone."

"You must raise your baby. She shan't be raised by another. She is your responsibility." He said sternly, narrowing his eyes at her; making her feel foolish and childish. Just like her mother had always done.
Stacy was going to start yelling (or crying) at him but when she turned to face, he appeared in the middle of the crosswalk.

"Hey!" She shouted after him, moving as fast as she possibly could. "What do you mean-"And that was all she could manage to say before she was hit by the speeding car.

--

"Miss? Miss?" A friendly nurse asked urgently as Stacy was being whisked away on the stretcher; feeling pain engulf her. Her stomach was especially twisting in agony. Her baby. "Do we have permission for an emergency C-Section? Do you consent? It's the only way your baby will survive."

"Ow, yes! Do it!" She screamed agonized by the unbearable pain in her abdomen.

--

"Say hello to your daughter Ms. Sterling." The nurses voice said kindly as the noisy cry of a baby filled the room.

Stacy looked to see a tiny figure being put into something that had a lot of wires around it. And her mother. She saw her mom.

--

A week had passed since she had given birth to her little daughter. She barely recalled the fuzzy image of a crying premature child. Stacy felt overwhelmed by everything. It had all just happened so suddenly, and because of some strange guy that reminded her so much of Kingsley.

Thinking of her made her heart throb. What if the kid looked like him? What if she had his personality?

--

It had been two long months since her baby had been born. Stacy had only been allowed to look through a Plexiglas window and watch all the other frail children (hers included) suffer looking starved and uncomfortable with wires stuck in them.

Today the nurse had officially given her permission to see her baby, so she could bring it home.

So that's where she found herself now. Staring in the glass window looking at the station that read Little Girl Sterling. She hadn't even been able to think of a name

Her mother held her hand gently when they walked into the room.

"And here she is. She's quite beautiful!" The nurse sighed gently.

"Yes," her mom mused, "she is."

The little girl was actually healthy looking now. And looked at Stacy with bright blue eyes. The same color as Stacy's.

"Just sign the release forms…" The nurse handed her a clipboard.

She is your responsibility, the words came back to her, and she gazed back into the child's eyes. It was like looking in a mirror. They were both the same. Both were just children.

"No, no. I can't do this." She said realizing she was wearing those same jeans from the day of the accident. "I can't handle the responsibility." And her hand fumbled into her pocket as she pulled out the old, distressed adoption form. This time she signed it effortlessly.

"Stacy?" Her mother narrowed her eyes as if about to ground her.

"You're right mother; I'm not ready to do this. But Kelly is."

Then she left the room.

--

It was truly like the weight of the world had been lifted off of her shoulders. The warm sunny day in Georgia matched Stacy's newfound attitude, and she tossed her shiny black hair behind her.

"You should not have done that. It should be raised by you." Stacy felt the temperature drop as the man who had caused her accident spoke. "Your daughter needs you. Do you know how terrible her destiny is?"

"No, I don't." Stacy retorted looking him in his stern eyes, "And neither do you. I did what was best for the both of us."

This time a cab stopped, and Stacy jumped in.

"Destiny is not planned. Just like my daughters' whole existence." And then she slammed the door, and the cab sped off.

But it is, the man thought, that child's is. And you could have saved our daughter a lot of suffering in the future. She'll need a mother's shoulder to cry on.

--

"What are you going to name her?" The nurse asked, feeling a little star struck.

Kelly beamed up at the petite nurse, "Thalia after my first acting role. I was ten! In a small production; I played a Greek muse with like maybe two lines! Thalia Grace. Isn't that pretty?"

A/N: I hoped you enjoyed! For anyone that caught all the LOST references: you're the best!

Also I wanted to add that originally this was going to be based off a letter from of my other fics and the movie An Education (and in a way is; Stacy being sixteen and Kingsley/Zeus/man being much older.) but kind of drifted away from that when the new season of LOST began.

Okay I'm finished talking now.

Reviews are lovely. Flaming is not a problem. Constructive Criticism is always my favorite!

You know you love me,

Bianca