Disclaimer: I don't own any of the movies or characters from the "Cabin Fever" franchise. All "Cabin Fever" movies and their characters belong to their respective owners. I don't make any money from the writing of this story.
*****
"It was a mistake," Marcy stated. "I should've known better."
She took a deep swig of her beer.
"Yeah," Paul agreed in a half-hearted tone. "That's what we're supposed to say, isn't it? So if we know it was a mistake, how come we're here right now, in bed together, naked?" Marcy glanced at him with unreadable eyes. "I mean we've fucked twice tonight, we're probably gonna fuck again, right?"
"Oh, fuck yeah!" Marcy confirmed with deadpan honesty.
"It seems like we're full of crap," Paul continued.
Marcy consumed the last half-inch of her cigarette, letting the last of the soothing smoke linger inside for a second before rolling it out through her lips while she squished the butt into the ashtray. Paul took the opportunity to admire her ass while it was briefly visible to him.
"Yeah, but it's different now," she argued. "The damage's already been done."
"Yeah, " Paul replied with a bitter chuckle. "I guess things can't get any more fucked up than they are, can they?" he asked in a pensive tone.
"Nope," Marcy softly replied.
"Do you think about it much?" she asked after a brief silence.
"Yeah," Paul admitted with a sigh. "At first, I tried not to, but after a while I just couldn't stop myself from thinking about it. I keep trying to make some sense of it, but..." he trailed off. "You?" he turned the question back on Marcy, without even the slightest hint of accusation or judgement in his voice.
"Same," she nodded. "I thought I could just forget about it and keep going, like it never happened. But it comes back to haunt you. It's like a fucking horror movie monster - there's no escaping it." In truth, Marcy had been able to do a reasonable job of putting Paul out of her mind since their rescue. She'd had ample experience in blocking out regrettable one night stands. But that all fell apart the moment she began to suspect that his seed had taken root inside her. Coupled with the news of Karen's death at the same time, Marcy found herself unable to suppress the thoughts of guilt and shame any longer.
She rolled on to her side and looked Paul straight in the eye as she continued, "Sometimes I can't even look at myself in the mirror, and then when I do, I just look so miserable or pissed off and it really hurts. It feels like the woman on the other side wants to slap me for fucking up so bad; for what I've done to her."
Paul reached out and placed his hand on Marcy's side in a comforting gesture.
"You know, I really wish I could just go back and not do it. But I can't. It's just messed everything up," Marcy remarked. Her anxieties were pouring out of her with such momentum that she found herself on the verge of revealing her pregnancy to Paul. But the level-headed part of her mind stepped in and censored her. The comfortable, judgement-free atmosphere in the room existed solely because the dirty laundry they were airing was no secret to either of them. If Marcy dropped a bombshell Paul wasn't prepared for, it would surely spoil the entire night.
"I don't know what the fuck to do," she continued, veiling the true nature of her predicament with vague language. "I don't have a fucking clue how to deal with any of this. I sure as hell can't talk to anyone about it. God, the way they'd look at me if they knew what I'd... the crap they'd say about me behind my back. The only thing I can do is try to work it out myself. It's such a headfuck," she told him, a sense of melancholy slipping in to her voice as her detachment from the uncertain future ahead of her wore thin.
Paul caressed her body gently up and down in an instintive comforting gesture.
"It'll get better..." he told her in a voice that betrayed his lack of confidence in those words. "...eventually. It has to, right?"
"Thanks," Marcy replied in a soft, emotionally exhausted tone, that was nonetheless sincere. They stared at each other in silence for a while, a weak smile on Marcy's face expressing her gratitude for Paul's consolation.
"Do you think that this, tonight, is gonna be just as big a mess to deal with?" Paul asked her.
Marcy couldn't help but smirk at his ignorance. It's not like she could get any more knocked up.
"Well, like I said, I think the damage's already been done," she answered.
Paul seemed to take a measure of comfort from her words. Knowing that the emotional baggage he'd been carrying wouldn't be compounded by his choices tonight was a relief.
The heel of his hand brushed against the side of her breast as he absently caressed her.
Meeting his gaze, Marcy sighed softly as the silence between them grew. Like the entire evening, nothing about the silence was awkward. If anything, it was extremely soothing, offering her the opportunity to process everything that had been discussed at her own pace. There was something about the intimate contact that Paul gave her that added a measure of dependability to his words. Perhaps things would work out for the best.
"You really like those, don't you?" she asked in a voice that was garnished with the slightest hint of pride. She gestured towards her tits with her eyes to eliminate any confusion about what she meant.
