notsocommon | sick day (for Will)

Entry tags:

tabula rasa,
will

sick day (for Will)

Helen had mostly gotten used to the whims of her stomach and tried to avoid obvious triggers - trips to the Winchester had been suspended entirely until she could smell food cooking without setting her stomach on edge. But today, no matter what she did, she still felt terrible. She left the vet's office in Kate's hands and eschewed her Council work in favor of going home and laying down, a damp cloth over her eyes.

It would pass, soon, but she didn't remember this being nearly so terrible when she was pregnant with Ashley. Then again, that was nearly thirty years ago now, and even her memory could fade over time.

When she heard the door swing in, Helen didn't bother getting up and called out from bed instead.

"Please tell me you've nothing to eat with you? I hate food today."

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Will does, in fact, have food with him, but it's nothing that smells. He's picked up on the fact that she can't stand the smell of food and after his office hours, picked up a thermos of ginger tea and some crackers for her. "Um, nothing that smells," he assures her. "I did bring you some ginger tea if you want it? But it's in a thermos, so if you don't want it right now, it's okay." He puts the thermos on the bedside table and sits carefully on the edge of the bed, trying not to jostle. "Feeling queasy?" he asks softly.

"A bit," Helen said, pressing her lips together and letting out a slow breath. Controlled breathing occasionally helped with the nausea and Helen had to wonder if there wasn't a mental component to this morning sickness nonsense. Then again, since morning sickness usually hit her all hours of the day...

"Your child doesn't seem to like the idea of eating anything other than mint leaves and ginger."

"He'll get over it," Will says, and grins. "He's got to learn to appreciate hotdogs and beer at a baseball game, eventually." He smoothes her hair back from her face with soft, gentle touches and feels guilty that she's feeling so crappy because of him. "Do you want some tea?"

"Please? It's about the only thing that settles it," Helen said, giving him a wan and thin little smile. She didn't want Will to think she was unhappy about the pregnancy, far from it, and while it was uncomfortable at the moment it was something that did make her happy.

"At least I'm not dying, right?"

"Not even close," he says, and removes the cap of thermos, flipping it over to serve as a cup, and filling it about half-full. "It's hot," he warns her. "Want to sit up a little? Slowly." He really doesn't want to set off her nausea, for her sake mostly but a little for his, because he's the world's biggest emetophobe.

"Yes, darling," Helen said softly, shifting to sit up and cup the little thermos cap in her hands. She blew over the tea lightly, wanting to be sure it didn't burn her tongue, before sipping it. She missed black tea terribly but caffeine was a no no.

"First trimester is always the worst."

Will nods. "So I hear. And before you know it, you'll be past this part and it'll be better. Right?" He'd never heard of anyone being sick for their entire pregnancy.

"First trimester is nausea and sensitive breasts. Second trimester is insatiable sex drive and strange food cravings. And the last is waddling and not getting terribly far from the bathroom," Helen said. She gave him a smile, softer this time.

"And, since I conceived in March, we're almost to insatiable sex drive. There's something, isn't it?"

"Hey, I thought we already had that part down," he says, giving her a very light, teasing poke in the arm. "I mean, you know, I have no complaints, okay." He rubs her shoulder lightly, but not enough to jostle her and make her queasy.

"I should hope not. I do try my very best," Helen said, laughing even harder. It was better to laugh and not think about how she felt and at least Will was good at taking her mind off it. She couldn't really ask for better in a partner and while she tried to tell him often, she never felt it was often enough.

"It's different, though, when pregnant. Everything feels like a live wire, everything feels new. I only...there was a night with James. It was wonderful. I have no doubt that you and I will be that much closer over the next few months."

Will feels like maybe he ought to be a little jealous or something about Watson, but he's not. Maybe because Magnus usually seems happy whenever she talks about him, unlike the way talking about her past with Druitt just tears her up--any sadness in talking about Watson usually comes from the fact that he's gone, not from anything he did. "Well, we'll enjoy it when we get there," he says, "and until then, I'll take care of you."

"Mmm. That is something I've never had before, being taken care of. It..."

Nausea roiled in her stomach and Helen covered her mouth and turned her head away. She hoped she wouldn't get sick this time, Will hated it, but sometimes the baby simply had a mind of his own regarding those things. She grabbed Will's wrist with her hand, fingers pressing in sharply against his skin.

"Help me outside? I don't...I don't want to in here."

Thankfully their house is small enough that it only takes a few steps to get them outside. "Deep breaths," he says, lightly rubbing her back, hoping that just getting some fresh air will help settle her stomach, but knowing it probably won't, and the idea that she'll probably get sick makes him a little queasy, too.

Helen didn't want to get sick. Not only was it miserable and embarrassing for her, she could manage if it didn't make Will sick too. But it did, usually, which triggered her gagging again and it just became a cycle. So she fought, as best she could, but couldn't manage any longer and had to vomit. She did at least manage to do so a few feet away with her back turned to Will so he wouldn't actually see it but he could still hear.

"I'm so sorry, darling, I know...I know you hate it."

Will tries really hard not to gag. He hates it, because he doesn't want Magnus feeling any worse than she already does, but he really can't help it. So he gags a little, but manages to keep it to a minimum, and then pulls a handkerchief from the back pocket of his jeans. Kind of old-fashioned to carry one around, but he's learned Magnus can get sick anywhere at any time and might need it. Just because he didn't actually manage to get into Boy Scouts doesn't mean he can't be prepared. "Hey, no. It's okay," he says, and offers her the handkerchief. "You can't help it, don't worry about me."

"I hate it," Helen managed quietly, wiping her eyes where she'd cried a little and then wiping her mouth clean. It was nice that Will was prepared and thoughtful enough to have a handkerchief for her; it certainly was a little luxury that made this process a lot easier than it had been the first time around.

"I think it's passed for this round, though. We can probably go back inside and lay down. Or I can lay down and you can do whatever else needs doing? I don't want to keep you if you've work or something to do. I just know that I need to rest for a little while."

"Oh no," Will says, sliding his arm around her waist to help her back into the house in case she feels a little wobbly and queasy still. "I don't have anything to do except look after you, right now. So don't worry about it. Seriously."

Helen was still a bit unsteady and she leaned against Will both out of the desire to keep upright and also to take solace in his warm, steady presence. A lot of the fears she had regarding pregnancy and childbirth were tied up in being abandoned by John and having to put Ashley in stasis and then, later, having Ashley without a support system.

Helen wasn't so backward as to think one must be married to have a child, no, but having two loving parents in a child's life was important, even if those parents weren't in a romantic relationship. This new child would have a warm, sweet, giving father in Will and it was hard not to get a little wrapped up in that and embrace it.

"I know you must be tired of hearing it but I'm so glad I have you to help me like this, Will. I'm so glad you've not left me to do this alone like I had to when John abandoned me."

Will shakes his head a little as he helps Magnus back to bed. "There's no way I'd leave you," he says. "Especially not now. 'Sickness and health' means 'sickness and health' and morning sickness and everything else. So don't let that even cross your mind again, okay?"

"I know you wouldn't leave. You're a good man, Will," Helen said, padding back into the bedroom with his help and undressing quickly. It was so bloody hot on the island and getting overheated was as likely to make her sick as anything else. That done, she laid down in bed.

"And yet, my prior experience with this stage of life isn't so good. It's nice to be married this time around. Having a brilliant husband makes all the difference."

Will leans over and kisses her forehead. "I don't know about briliant," he says, "but I'll do what I can." There are times where he's not really sure he knows what to do, because it's not like he can draw on his own life experiences except to know what not to do.

"Does it make you happy? I know it's not something we planned and trust me, I fully intended to plan our pregnancy. I wanted to work out when best to try to conceive, pick out names, have everything just so before the pregnancy part even happened."

Best-laid plans apparently always went to hell, though, considering Helen had agreed with Will that with John showing up, perhaps this wasn't the best time to get pregnant.

"It makes me happy, at any rate. Incredibly happy."

Will sits beside her on the edge of the bed, sliding his fingers through the ends of her hair. "I wanted to plan things, too," he says thoughtfully. "I wanted to make sure everything was safe for you and a baby, that I had my head together enough to be a good dad, that everything would be perfect. But yeah, I'm happy. Scared shitless," he clarifies, with a small, self-deprecating laugh, "but happy. Really happy. This is going to be our kid... it's incredible."

"I suppose a healthy bit of fear is understandable," Helen said, weighing that in her mind. "Especially considering neither of us have had good experiences with this sort of thing. I raised Ashley alone and I'm terrified it will happen again. You had a poor upbringing by your father."

Helen threaded her fingers in his. "But I want, desperately, to help ease those fears. What frightens you about it?"

Will thinks for a minute before answering, still toying with her hair. "Well, mostly I worry that something's going to happen with you or the baby and it's not like we're on the forefront of medical science out here," he says. "You're not immortal anymore and you don't have whatever was in your blood that helps you heal, and I know everyone else gets along perfectly fine without it, but..." He shrugs softly and twines her hair around his finger. "And if something happened to you, Magnus, I don't know what I would do. You're my whole life."

"Nothing...well, it's a bit much to say nothing's going to happen. I know with my apparent age, I'm not in prime childbearing condition and there's always a chance of something. But I'm healthy, Will, and strong. I'll be fine," Helen promised, squeezing his hand. She tugged it down to her stomach. It was barely even noticeable, at this point, just a little extra padding from where she'd been eating better, but it was symbolic.

"The child will be fine too. You'll see."

Will rubs his hand lightly over her stomach, a touch firm enough not to tickle but not enough to jostle her when she's already queasy. "Logically, I know you're both likely to be perfectly fine," he says. "But I can't help but worry about the people I love. It's a thing."

He lets his hand linger over her stomach a little longer and he knows he probably looks like a giant dork, because at the moment he's just marveling that right now, inside Magnus, is their baby, a little of both of them that's made someone completely new.

"I've never had anyone worry about me," Helen admitted softly, watching as Will touched her stomach. It was strangely intimate in a way that she hadn't really been with anyone else and she loved it more than she could possibly say.

"I've always been alone, Will. There were times with James, when I wasn't, but they were few and far between. My father, for all he loved me, was more the doting and presents sort. He wasn't a support system and I hope that you and I as parents...that we'll be better. We'll be better than our own parents and better than I was with Ashley, at times. She was a bit spoiled."

"At least we know what we don't want to do," he says. "And that's a start, right?" Will definitely knows what he doesn't want to be. He doesn't want to be the kind of dad can't come to when he or she wants to talk, or the kind of dad whose kids are scared of him or the kind of dad who never has time for his kids. There's a lot he won't be able to give his child here, but the one thing he has in abundance is time, and he's going to give as much of it as he possibly can.

"I wish I remembered more about my mom," he says, without planning or meaning to. "She always had time for me, you know? It didn't matter if she was busy or stressed or had her own things going on. She always had time for me."

"Mm. I tried to be that for Ashley. I think I went to the extreme, though, and tried to be her friend more than her mother," Helen said drowsily. She tugged at Will, wanting him to lay next to her.

"I was always so afraid to punish her. I was afraid she'd hate me forever."

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