Ill Conceived Plans

Who's your daddy!

THROWING up in the backyard of his mother's house in Devon was not the way Dane expected he'd find out about his impending fatherhood. It wasn't something he'd really thought out but he knew it wouldn't have involved shrubbery and a Hilditch/Huntington viewing gallery.

Yet here he was.

In his mother's backyard with his pregnant best friend, fertilizing the Hydrangeas.

Well, he'd already fertilized her, so why not.

It was a freezing cold November evening and they'd both lost a lot of fluid.

He was no longer sympathy vomiting, or maybe it had been the shock that had caused his technicolor wave?

He should be angry and he was, he should be hurt and yeah he was that too but mostly he was worried. He had an arm thrown around Sarah, supporting her. She felt weak like she'd fall over if he moved his arm, he wasn't use to that, she was a strong woman, mentally and physically, here and now she was cold, clammy, shivering and heading towards four months pregnant with a child.

His child.

He'd made a baby. 

Something in him stirred.

"Are you okay Fox?" he asked quietly. Her teeth were chattering, her lips a fetching shade of purple.

"We need to get you inside darling."

She looked behind her. They had an audience. She shook her head.

They needed to talk, they needed privacy. He pivoted his body enough to allow him to give his family the "scram signal" – waving his hand furiously at them. Fox needed space. She couldn't "people" right now, even people she felt safe with. He knew the look on her face; could read her body language, wondered whether she'd send him away next, well try to – Dane wasn't going anywhere, not until he got answers and then still probably not. He saw his mother gather his siblings, their partners and children and heading out of the kitchen.

"They're gone Fox, we need to get you and Bean inside," he said gently. She might not go for her own good but he had the impression that mentioning Bean would work. She was fiercely protective of that little foetus. It may be a little scrap of humanity but it was her child.

His child.

If he kept repeating it in his head it might start feeling real. The feeling stirred again, he felt so protective towards her, he'd always had her back but now................

"Please for our baby."

Her eyes softened into a gentle smile.

She'd looked frightened and flighty before, like a wild untamed animal caught in a trap and looking for an escape but she was starting to settle, starting to look like his Fox. And whatever she'd done, she was still that, she'd always be that.

"I tried to tell you," she said shivering as he helped her up. He nodded.

"The other day – I was going to tell you and then Sabine answered the intercom and I couldn't do it to her, to you. You deserve a normal life."

They were walking towards the house now, Sarah was leaning on him. 

So pale. 

He felt guilt, anger, sorrow.

"You didn't think to tell me when you found out?" he was still talking in a little more than a whisper, trying to keep his tone neutral and not let any of the anger seep in, afraid he'd spook her. He just wanted to get her inside to the warmth, to a shower and a nice tea, he could do with a nice sweet tea himself. He was almost sorry he'd asked the question, he should wait until she was warm, until she felt better but he needed to know, he needed to try and get into her head. He knew now why not ringing her had upset her so much and a wave of guilt washed over him. She'd been pregnant and alone, without her best friend, the father of her child. She didn't do it on her own, it was more his stupid fault than hers if he analysed it and he'd been so caught up trying to keep it normal that he didn't realise normal had changed forever. Her whole support network was connected to him; he wondered how isolated that had made her feel. But why didn't she tell him, they shared everything? And this was the biggest thing they would share. A baby, half him, half her. His grip tightened around her.