Fic: Paternal Fears
Title: Paternal Fears
Pairing/Character: John/Elizabeth
Rating PG, for vomiting and thoughts about it...nothing graphic.
Summary: When he's sick, her first thoughts are for his well-being.
Warnings: None really, no spoilers either that i noticed.
Beta: Her royal Kyness.
Disclaimer: Any of the characters, places or television shows depicted in this fic are not owned by me. I am using them simply for the means to entertain and in no way make a profit from the distribution of this story.
Author's Notes: It's short.
Feedback: Is Teh love
When he’s sick, her first thoughts are for his well-being.
When he’s burning up and flushed red, she’ll lead him to the bed and take his temperature, placing her hand gently on his forehead in reassurance that everything will be fine. She’ll take his temperature and insist he eat something, She’ll sit with him for as long as it takes, holding his hand and stroking his forehead as they wait for Carson’s antibiotics to kick in.
When she finds him in their shared bathroom, unable to keep his last meal down, her first thought is ‘what did he eat?’ or ‘what has he done to himself now?’
She sits on the edge of the bath tub and gently strokes his back until he collapses to the ground, tired and wheezing.
She’ll smile down at him and brush her fingers across his forehead to soothe him, knowing that as soon as he smiles, he’s feeling that getting it out of his system was exactly what he needed.
***
When she’s ill, his first thoughts are panicked.
When she’s nauseas or sweating, collapsing in the control room, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He wonders if it was something he could be blamed for. He tries to calculate when she was last inexplicably agitated, the kind of agitation that came around once a month or when he was particularly adolescent.
***
She wonders if there is anything wrong with this.
She wonders if she should be worried that, when he is ill, her first thoughts are for him, but when she is ill and huddled over the porcelain pillow, his first worry is that ‘Oh my God, I’m going to be a father.’
Sometimes, she laughs at the panic in his eyes. It is funny in hindsight, but when she’s face down in the toilet and regurgitating everything she has eaten in the last day, she doesn’t see the humour.
Once she has enough air in her lungs and calm in her stomach, she will convince him that it was just a bug, that she was perfectly regular and he had nothing to fear. After that he was more than obliging to hold her hair for her, to rub her back and tell her everything will be OK.
It took her almost three years to train him, to convince him that not every time she was ill meant that they were going be meeting a little tiny person in nine months time.
She was happy the first time that he found her in the bathroom, crouched down next to the bathtub, rubbing her aching abdomen; he smiled to her and sat down beside her, whispering that she’d feel better in the morning and didn’t even hint that he had panicked at all.
She almost felt guilty. He’d finally stopped panicking. But if he’d followed his norm just one more time, he would have been right at least once in their relationship.
The End.
Pairing/Character: John/Elizabeth
Rating PG, for vomiting and thoughts about it...nothing graphic.
Summary: When he's sick, her first thoughts are for his well-being.
Warnings: None really, no spoilers either that i noticed.
Beta: Her royal Kyness.
Disclaimer: Any of the characters, places or television shows depicted in this fic are not owned by me. I am using them simply for the means to entertain and in no way make a profit from the distribution of this story.
Author's Notes: It's short.
Feedback: Is Teh love
When he’s sick, her first thoughts are for his well-being.
When he’s burning up and flushed red, she’ll lead him to the bed and take his temperature, placing her hand gently on his forehead in reassurance that everything will be fine. She’ll take his temperature and insist he eat something, She’ll sit with him for as long as it takes, holding his hand and stroking his forehead as they wait for Carson’s antibiotics to kick in.
When she finds him in their shared bathroom, unable to keep his last meal down, her first thought is ‘what did he eat?’ or ‘what has he done to himself now?’
She sits on the edge of the bath tub and gently strokes his back until he collapses to the ground, tired and wheezing.
She’ll smile down at him and brush her fingers across his forehead to soothe him, knowing that as soon as he smiles, he’s feeling that getting it out of his system was exactly what he needed.
***
When she’s ill, his first thoughts are panicked.
When she’s nauseas or sweating, collapsing in the control room, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He wonders if it was something he could be blamed for. He tries to calculate when she was last inexplicably agitated, the kind of agitation that came around once a month or when he was particularly adolescent.
***
She wonders if there is anything wrong with this.
She wonders if she should be worried that, when he is ill, her first thoughts are for him, but when she is ill and huddled over the porcelain pillow, his first worry is that ‘Oh my God, I’m going to be a father.’
Sometimes, she laughs at the panic in his eyes. It is funny in hindsight, but when she’s face down in the toilet and regurgitating everything she has eaten in the last day, she doesn’t see the humour.
Once she has enough air in her lungs and calm in her stomach, she will convince him that it was just a bug, that she was perfectly regular and he had nothing to fear. After that he was more than obliging to hold her hair for her, to rub her back and tell her everything will be OK.
It took her almost three years to train him, to convince him that not every time she was ill meant that they were going be meeting a little tiny person in nine months time.
She was happy the first time that he found her in the bathroom, crouched down next to the bathtub, rubbing her aching abdomen; he smiled to her and sat down beside her, whispering that she’d feel better in the morning and didn’t even hint that he had panicked at all.
She almost felt guilty. He’d finally stopped panicking. But if he’d followed his norm just one more time, he would have been right at least once in their relationship.
The End.