(Untitled)
She's bleeding.
You don't think of it as bleeding, really. Or she doesn't, not most months. It's her period. It comes three months, regular as clockwork, when she's on the pill, and it's every five to six weeks when she's not on it. It's just part of a biological system ( Read more... )
You don't think of it as bleeding, really. Or she doesn't, not most months. It's her period. It comes three months, regular as clockwork, when she's on the pill, and it's every five to six weeks when she's not on it. It's just part of a biological system ( Read more... )
And then the first punch hit the wall, and his head jerked up.
Then the second, and the third, and the fourth -- enough, and rhythmic and consistent enough, to make it clear what he was hearing.
His brows have drawn together, and the book rests forgotten in front of him. He's trying to figure out if he should knock on the door, or just wait; either way, he's worried.
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Kate phases out shortly enough anyway, anger radiating off her in almost visible waves, and--
She wants to sit on the bed.
She doesn't want to be near him.
She says, shortly, "I have my period," after a pause, and then bends and starts to rummage through her duffel bag.
Looking for--
She doesn't even know what.
She needs to move her hands, and barely notices that they're moving through just as much as they're touching.
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(And his heart drops in his chest, and he only barely manages to keep that reaction off his face, because he didn't realize he was hoping for another miracle so soon until it was denied.
He should know better. For so many reasons.)
He turns enough to face her better, hands loose on his knees. It's a long moment in which he doesn't know what to say or do, what will help and what will make her angrier at the world, before he says softly, "It is one month, Katya."
They have time.
Plenty of couples have to keep trying.
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(She knows she should.)
"Just a few days mess, right? No big deal. We're fine."
She can't make her voice stop being clipped right now, and she gives up looking for the something in the bag and angrily tosses it across the room.
She wants to hit something.
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They'll be fine. They will be.
It isn't a big deal.
(It isn't, he tells himself. It's one month. That's nothing, in the long run. It's just random chance. It's not a big deal.
He tells himself, and it mostly even works.)
But right now...
He looks at Kate, and he knows fine's not the word.
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She's rambling.
She knows it.
"We can get some extra sleep in, even, for a few days this way."
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He wants something to do with his hands.
He wants something to do. Something to help.
"You do not have to be fine."
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Even Kate knows when she's ridiculous, and even Kate knows when to stop and to sigh, and to start to rhythmically bang her head against the wall.
"I wanted to be pregnant by now," she says after a moment, quietly.
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He starts to lift his hands to her shoulders; realizes that, with the amount she's been phasing these last few minutes, he's not likely to be able to touch her if he tries it, and lets them drop halfway instead. One more step takes him to her side, and more into her peripheral vision.
In soft Russian, "I know."
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"I would like to."
In other words: no.
It's been a very long time since he had answers for life's unfairness.
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(No. She wouldn't. Kate's not big on horses. She knows how to ride one. She likes Mal's. But in general, they're just not her thing.)
"I don't--I hate it when I do this," Kate manages, and she throws the shirt she'd picked up to wring between her hands across the room anyway.
"I just-"
"I wanted it to just get started already. I wanted the not knowing to stop."
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He lifts a hand now, slowly, to brush her cheek or to brush the air near it.
"We have time, my Katya."
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"I sorta want to get the whole thing over with, a little," she murmurs, without looking at him.
"I want our baby. You know I do. But I want to be able to phase without worry. I just--nine months. I want them started. I want a deadline of when it's okay, and I just--I want. I just want it to work. And it might not, and that terrifies me."
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"We will make it work out, if we need to."
But that doesn't address most of the problem.
And there's nothing he can do to help that part, except to be here for her.
(Piotr is well aware that, whether he wants it that way or not, he has the easy part here.)
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"It's a good thing you're the one being daddy here. I'm entirely too selfish to make this work on my own."
And, for the most part, she doesn't worry that it will end up her alone with a pregnancy or baby.
Mostly.
97%-ish sure, at least.
Which Kate feels, considering everything, including history, is about as sure as she can hope to get with anyone, so.
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