Date: Sat, 22 May 1999 08:28:27 -0700 From: clark Subject: Care (01/02) To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu This is follows six other stories I've written, "Hope," "Faith," "Charity," "Peace," "Love," and "Understanding." Due to some language and descriptions, "Hope" was posted under an adult header. All the previous stories are available on my website, http://www.best.com/~sclark/fk/. Permission given to archive at fkfanfic website and the FTP site. No other permission is granted to repost/reprint/reuse. If you're interested drop me a line. Feedback, virtual mangoes, or time machines are all welcomed. This story is based on characters and situations that aren't mine. Thanks to TPTB for their use. Care (01/02) by S. Clark Natalie grew increasingly tense as she watched her friend Margaret's face. Margaret's words had yet to betray anything but the doctor/patient banter the two normally engaged in during a checkup. But, as Margaret removed the tape measure from Natalie's swollen belly, her demeanor, well, that wasn't Margaret's usual. "How's everything?" Natalie asked. It was an easy question, not probing. Margaret didn't respond. "You know, away from this place," Natalie tacked on quickly. Perhaps she shouldn't rush any news, especially news she'd rather not hear. "With me, fine?" Margaret went to the counter and jotted something on the chart. "By the way, I didn't see Nick out in the waiting room." Natalie squirmed a little, readjusting herself on the table as best she could. "Nick couldn't come for this appointment." Margaret nodded. "But you did get a ride here?" "My friend Grace brought me." Natalie took in a couple deep breaths. "Why?" "I just think you'd have trouble driving. You know, reaching the steering wheel, the pedals." "I haven't tried for a while, honestly," Natalie confessed. "Nowhere to go, I guess." Margaret nodded, and made some additional notes on the chart. "Good. That's probably for the best, anyway." Natalie's fears were further provoked by those words. "For the best? Why?" She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "What's wrong?" Margaret rolled up a stool so she could have a seat next to Natalie. "You show a significant increase in fundal height. I'd like to do a quick ultrasound." "What are you thinking?" "It could be nothing." Margaret laid a light hand on her friend's shoulder. "But it's best we check." "But it could be something, also." Margaret smiled. "Anything could be something. I'd like to do a scan, and see what that shows us." ### Natalie sat on the couch, alone. Leaning against the arm, she rested her legs on the cushion. Inconclusive. She let the words drift through her thoughts. That's what Margaret had said. The results of the scan were inconclusive. Inconclusive was an easier word than the other one Margaret had used. Polyhydramnios. Excess amniotic fluid. Possible indicator of several of conditions, conditions ranging from benign to serious. Inconclusive was open, not as precise. It wasn't a neutral word, but it also wasn't a word she could relate to studies, to pictures and descriptions. The scan, the excess fluid, made the attempt to view the fetus's internal organs inconclusive. Now Natalie had to wait, to schedule another ultrasound. On the plus side, Margaret had said the follow-up appointment wasn't urgent. The heartbeat looked good, as did the baby's tone. And the child was moving well. Still, without more information, without conclusive information, Natalie couldn't bring herself to tell Nick. He was so excited about the baby, excited enough for both of them. How would he take the news. How could she do that to him? No, it was best to wait. For Nick's sake. It was easier that way. So Natalie sat on the couch. And rubbed her hands over her stomach. And once again, mulled over the word. Inconclusive. ### Natalie jumped when she heard the door upstairs open. She could hear Nick padding down the stairs. She dabbed at the tears on her cheeks, and hoped he wouldn't notice the puffiness, the redness of her eyes. He went to the end of the couch and grabbed her left foot, giving it a light massage. "You didn't wake me when you came in." Natalie forced a smile to her face. "I didn't want to climb the stairs." "And what news did Margaret have for us?" "You know, the same." "Good." Nick had that innocent, wide-eyed look. The one she found so difficult to resist. She wanted to continue to cry, to have him hold her, comfort her. And she was afraid. He moved to the other foot. "You look tired." "I haven't been able to fall sleep." That, at least, was the truth. Nick set her foot back on the couch. He moved to sit beside her, and placed a hand on her abdomen. He planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "Can I get you something to eat?" That did it. He was being so nice, so patient. And she couldn't tell him the truth. Her tears started again. "Natalie?" He stroked her hair, rubbed his hand over her back. His words were spoken slowly, cautiously. "Is everything all right?" She hugged him, holding on tight. "I'm just tired," she said through the sobs. "Just tired." He held her until the tears ceased. She had cried herself out, cried herself to sleep. Nick reached for a pillow and propped it behind her back. He covered her, tucking in the blanket up around her chin. Confident that she was fully asleep, he reluctantly moved away from her, from the stirring child. Time to prepare for his day, and leave her to her sleep. ### Disclaimers in part 1. Care (02/02) by S. Clark Nick heard the ringing when he was in the shower. He cursed himself for not thinking to take it off the hook. He grabbed the dressing gown, tightening it around himself as he rushed from the room. But he was too late. But the time he got to the landing, she had already talking on the phone. He turned to re-enter the bathroom, but then his sensitive hearing caught a snippet of the conversation below. He remained still, out of her view, and listened. It was Margaret scheduling another appointment. Nick knew that Natalie had weekly appointments set from now until delivery. She'd marked each on a calendar down in the kitchen. It was a way for them to coordinate schedules while he still worked nights, and she tried to live days. No, this was something out of the ordinary. An ultrasound. At the hospital. He could hear Natalie's pulse racing, her breath quickening. She quietly thanked Margaret and hung up the phone. Again he could hear her sobs. Nick closed his eyes. Something was wrong. Something with the baby. And Natalie hadn't told him, hadn't had enough trust, enough faith, to be able to share that information about their baby. He went into the bedroom and dressed. He made a call on his cell phone and booked off. No, he told Cohen, it wasn't the baby. But he needed to take the personal time. She approved the request. He sat on the bed, his head buried in his hands. He had to face her, to talk to her. But she'd closed him out. Perhaps it was only right that she kept her own counsel. Was it that he'd already caused enough pain, enough damage? Another test. At the hospital. Something was wrong with the child. He should have known better. Should have known that the only life he could spawn would be a monster, a beast like himself. And he had encumbered Natalie with this wretched child. How could he be so foolish, so arrogant? How could he expect to create anything pure, anything innocent? Natalie should have rejected his offers. She should have shown more sense, more strength. Instead, she'd allowed him to help her effect a creature that shouldn't exist. A child, burdened by his sins. Sins that would all be divulged at the child's birth. They would transform the child, this hope, this chance at sharing his love with Natalie, into a reflection of himself. A soulless, damned creature. It would all be there, open to the world. His transgressions marking his child's conformation. Again, he repeated his curses to his arrogance, his folly. And he steeled himself to face Natalie. He knew her secret. Knew the burden upon their child. And knew that he was to blame. ### She knew when she saw his face that he'd heard her on the phone. The red streaks down his cheeks told her that much. She took in a deep breath. Time to project strength, for his benefit. And for her own. Natalie held out her hand to him. He grasped it and fell to his knees, holding it to his cheek. With her other hand she reached out for him. Placing the hand on the back of his head, she pulled him close. This time she held him as he cried. She explained to him about the scan. What the test was for. And what the scan could show, as well as what it couldn't. And, why the earlier scan was inconclusive. She told him that polyhydramnios often indicated digestive abnormalities. For example, if the child had no stomach. Or had esophageal atresia, no connection from the esophagus to the stomach. She explained it all, using all the technical terms. Then, she defined those for him, also. And she stressed the fact that it could be nothing, all the while hoping she could bring herself to believe that this could be the case. Once it was all said, all in the open, they could both begin to relax. He scooted in, sitting behind her, allowing her to rest herself against his chest. He rubbed her shoulders, her arms. And they continued to talk. About her day. About the office gossip Grace passed along. None of which he cared about, but he listened intently. He made sure she ate, and helped her prepare for bed. Once she was lying down, he assisted her in getting comfortable, moving her collection of pillows as she requested. And he stayed with her until she drifted off. After she was asleep, Nick returned to the great room of the loft. There, before the box that contained St. Joan's cross, he asked for intercession. He asked that his child be spared his sins, his torment. He confessed he was in no position to make such a request. He knew he deserved no such assistance. But, he also asked that his child would be judged on its own merits. That it not be stained by his sins. ### Nick impatiently awaited the results of the ultrasound. The appointment was, once again, during the day. Grace had, once again, taken Natalie. He made her swear this time she'd call as soon as she knew anyway. Whatever the results were, he wanted to know them, also, just as soon as was practical. But this didn't keep him from being startled when the phone rang. He literally flew across the room to answer it. "Nat?" He didn't waste time with hello, or any of the other pleasantries. If it was anyone else, he didn't want to speak with them, anyway. "All through," she said. "And?" "And, it looks normal." Nick smiled. He sat down at a kitchen chair, relieved. "Are you sure?" "Well, there's still the matter of the excess fluid." "But the other things you described..." "At this point, I don't think any of those appear likely." "And you're coming home now?" He heard her laugh. A sound he hadn't heard in the last few days. A sound he'd missed. "Can you have the VCR ready for me?" "King Kong?" "And Chinese?" "And Chinese," he agreed. "And Nick?" "Hmmm?" "I love you." The phone clicked dead. Nick cradled it to his chest. "I love you, too."