notsocommon | post-ultrasound

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post-ultrasound

Helen had originally been of two minds when it came to knowing the sex of their unborn child but the idea that it might spark some sort of memory for Will tipped her over into wanting to know. Besides, he had wanted to know the sex before he lost his memories and Helen felt like she owed it to him, among other things.

She was, predictably enough, incredibly healthy and strong and the baby had obliged turning over in such a way that they could see they were having a boy. While Helen knew she and Will would have been happy with a girl, certainly, a boy was what they'd both wanted deep down. Helen couldn't wait to see him in the little baseball outfits that Will had picked out or to see Will teaching him how to play catch and the like.

As they left the clinic, Helen slid her hand in Will's just like she used to before the island had decided to steal his memories. "A boy. I was really hoping we were having a boy and I'm so excited. You are too, I trust?"

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"Excited? Oh yeah," Will says, and squeezes her hand. Honestly, he would have been happy whether the baby was a boy or girl (he's not one of those asshole guys that thinks he's not man enough! unless his sperm produces a male child) but now that he knows the baby is a boy, well, he has all kinds of plans. It's kind of ridiculous. "A boy, wow. Did we talk about names, before?"

"We did. In a few short months, you will be the proud father of one Gregory James Zimmerman," Helen said, beaming, then realized that Will might not actually know she'd changed her surname. Oops.

"Ah, right, I don't think I've mentioned this. You're the only person who really calls me Magnus now, aside from Kate, because my name's Zimmerman and not Magnus any longer."

"Gregory for your father, I guess, and James for... James Watson? One of the Five?" Will doesn't actually remember Watson, but Magnus has mentioned him and explained a little. "Sounds like a good name to me. And it's funny, I guess, that I still call you Magnus," he says. "I guess it's habit? Does it bother you?"

"Heavens, no. It's practically a pet name, by this point," Helen said, grinning at him. "And yes, for Father and for James. You liked them both very much, I think, and we agreed it would be a fitting name for our son. It's a good, strong name, don't you think?"

It was very important that Will like it since Helen wanted him to feel he was included in every decision they made about their new family.

"It's a great name," Will says. "Very English." And he's glad to see they didn't choose his own father's name. He doesn't know what kind of relationship he had with his father before coming here but as far as he's concerned, the less, the better.

And then he has another one of those rememberings, as he's started thinking of them. "I call you Maggie sometimes, don't I?" he says, grinning. "And you totally hate it but I do it anyway."

"And here I was hoping you'd conveniently have forgotten that for all eternity," Helen said dryly, only to dissolve into giggles. She actually liked being called Maggie even if she did put up more than a token protest every time Will did it.

"But yes, sometimes you call me Maggie in private. Would you like to hear the story behind it?"

God, the giggles, and the way they bring out her dimple... it's so foreign to him to see her like this and yet he can totally see how he fell in love with her before. When she turns that smile on him, he feels a rush that's not like anything he's ever felt with anyone else. "I would like to hear the story behind it, yes," he says.

"That was St. Patrick's, not this year but the year before," Helen explained, thinking it best that she gloss over St. Patrick's this year entirely. She tucked her hair back behind her ears as she spoke, trying to stall for time and gather her thoughts.

"St. Patrick's is a favorite holiday of yours and I wore a pretty green dress - the same one you saw me cursing the other night before the Ball because I can't fit in it? Anyway, you got tipsy and we went back to my hut since you weren't living with me yet and I had more privacy and you kept doing this bloody ridiculous Irish accent. So you called me Maggie and said I was looking so pretty with that pretty green dress and flower in my hair. It was so bloody stupid and I laughed the whole time before we...well. You know where that story probably ends."

"Oh, God," he says, laughing, and weirdly embarrassed--he's not sure why, because it really sounds like something he'd do. "Yeah, I can figure out where that ended," he says, and when he imagines her in that green dress with a flower in her hair...yeah. As the days go on and he spends more time with Magnus and remembers small pieces of what he's forgotten, he feels more comfortable thinking about her as his wife and partner and not his employer, and he's allowed himself to think about her that way on more than one occasion.

"I bet you looked amazing. Just like you did at the ball."

"Flattery gets you everywhere, dearest," Helen teased, leaning in and kissing his cheek lightly for no real reason at all. In a way, this was nice, because it felt like courting all over. Will hadn't been the sort of husband to let the little romantic things slide simply because they were comfortable but this was sweet and affectionate in a way that Helen rather likes.

"Would you like to go for a swim? I'll need to pick a new swimming costume from the box but I think we can manage."

Edited 2012-07-16 02:30 (UTC)

"That's a good idea--actually," he adds, "why don't we just make a day of it? You can go find a new 'swimming costume' and I'll pack us some lunch and we'll just go and have a good time of it." A date? Maybe, but Will would rather not put a label on it; he just wants to spend more time with her.

It wasn't a terrible idea and Helen, too, wanted to spend more time with him so she went to go deal with the box and its fickle nature until she managed to wrestle a two piece that wasn't microscopic from it. Plenty of suncream and she should be right, yes?

That done, she caught back up with Will, grinning at him. "I think there's ruffles on my bottom and everything. How utterly ridiculous, no?"

Will can't tell what Magnus is wearing under the loose beach cover-up-thing she's wearing, but the idea of ruffles--and the fact that she actually said bottom to refer to a part of her anatomy--cracks him up. "Whatever you're wearing probably looks great on you," he says, and kisses her cheek. "Wait here a minute and I'll see if the box will cough up something for me to wear."

It does, actually, but it's not what Will would be caught dead in--no way is he wearing a Speedo. He'd rather go naked, it looks less stupid. A little more digging produces a pair of neon green board shorts and while they're not exactly what he wants, he figures he won't get a better option, so he goes with it. He pulls on a t-shirt and grabs a couple of towels in case Magnus didn't pick some up, and heads back upstairs. He meets her in the kitchen and gathers up the picnic lunch he's packed. "You carry the towels and I'll carry all the rest of this stuff," he says.

"Hardly seems an equitable division of labor but as I benefit, I won't protest," Helen said, taking the towels from him and falling into step beside him. "I should be all right but we'll have to take care to ensure I don't burn or get too hot. I can regulate my temperature but the little one can't just yet."

She grinned a little. "You'll have to hover. It must be so terrible for you."

"I think I can handle that." If he didn't have his arms full of picnic basket, he'd put his arm around her waist, but since he does, he just walks close to her. Something about seeing that tiny baby on the ultrasound screen (even though it looks more like a fuzzy gray alien than an actual baby) has made all of this more real, more holy crap I'm going to be a dad, and he feels a little protective.

"Oh, it's a lofty position, to be sure. It requires attention to detail, focus..."

Helen gave him a smile, somewhat shyer than before. "Affection. Love, someday, I hope, but I can't press my luck too soon, can I? I don't want to hurt you."

He also hopes for that someday, and doesn't want to press his luck because he doesn't want to hurt her. He's encouraged by how things are going so far, but still--he wants to make sure he's in love with her because he's in love with her and not because he thinks he should be because he was before, but he also wants to make sure she's in love with him as he is now, and not just who he was before. Maybe it's a distinction only a psychiatrist would think about, but he wants to be careful.

"Taking things one day at a time, I think, is the best we can do for now," he says, "and try to build things up again."

"Spending time together like this will help," Helen agreed. "But there's no sense in rushing it. Especially not being intimate. I really don't want to push that and would rather it develop naturally. Before, when we were first courting one another...I pushed sex over and over and you kept turning me down. We ended up hurting each other quite a bit with something that's meant to be an expression of love more than anything else. Since I'm getting a chance to fall in love with you all over again, I really would like to do it right this time."

"Why did I keep turning you down?" he asks, shifting the basket in his arms. It's not that he doesn't believe her--he does, she wouldn't have any reason to lie about that--but he's having a hard time figuring out why. "I'm assuming I had a reason and I at least told you about it?"

"You didn't want to move too fast," Helen said, shrugging a bit. It was difficult to talk about it even now and while Will's reasons had been sound, being rejected hurt. At least the rejection this time around was because Will was completely unsure of everything with his memory loss, not just their relationship.

"I made a fool of myself. It's not something I care to repeat."

"Hey." He nudges her lightly with his elbow. "It'll be okay. We'll make it work. No pressure, and I'm not going anywhere." Will can see, now, why he didn't want to move too fast; he knows he and Magnus have a good friendship and working relationship and he can see not wanting to risk it if a relationship on a different level didn't work out. This time, though, he can see that they do work out.

"Besides, I got you in my bed in a week. That's already much better progress than the last time we did this," Helen said, bumping him back lightly with her hip and smiling a bit. "It just hurts to feel unwanted, is all. It doesn't feel that way this time, it feels like you genuinely want to get to know a different facet of me that you've never experienced before. Perhaps you meant it that way last time and I didn't know you well enough to glean that from you?"

Helen laughed a bit. "I am certainly not sorry about getting you back in bed with me though. I missed you."

"I probably missed you, too, even if I don't remember it," Will says. "I'm definitely sleeping better in the bed with you than on the couch."

He's also pretty sure that his reluctance in the early part of their relationship had nothing to do with a lack of wanting on his part. Really, it has nothing to do with a lack of wanting now. This time around, he'll have to make sure she knows that's not the case, especially if she has any insecurities about her looks because of the pregnancy.

"I'm not the psychiatrist, so correct me if I'm wrong, but can't the breathing patterns and rhythms of another in sleep help lull someone to bed more easily? Something about feeling safe?"

Helen certainly felt safe in bed with Will and always had. She felt much better now that he'd started sharing with her again.

"There's that," Will allows, "but I don't think that's all of it. I think even though my mind doesn't remember, the rest of me does." Then he realizes how that sounds and shakes his head. "I don't mean it like that," he says, "but do you know what I mean?"

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