Title: Disquiet
Author: Fallenbelle
Summary: Despite attempts to put it squarely behind you, the past always has a way of coming back to haunt you.
Spoilers: None specific. Sometime in the future.
Genre: Angst/Drama
Note: There will be a part 2 coming shortly.
William H. Murdoch, Jr. was only three days old, but already there was no doubt that he was a miniature version of his father. It was as if, George Crabtree had said, someone had cloned the detective. In fact, one would be hard pressed to identify a feature that could have come from his mother-much to William's chagrin-and he repeatedly stated that he hoped that his son would take on more of his mother's appearance in the coming weeks.
For her part, Julia was relieved that the child seemed to be very much his father's son. In fact, she hoped that this meant that the child had also inherited his father's temperament as well; there was no need for the baby to repeat his mother's mistakes.
Considering how attractive she found his father, it was no hardship for her that the boy was very much his father's son. The baby was very pleasant to gaze upon, and Julia loved seeing William reflected in the infant's tiny features when she looked upon him.
For the most part, Julia lay in her bed, recovering from a difficult birth, but the tiny boy who was definitely a miniature version of his father was healthy, and had immediately reduced his normally stoic father to tears of happiness.
While William was undoubtedly besotted with the tiny infant, the same could not be said for his mother. While Julia had gazed at the beauty of her child, and expressed relief and thanksgiving that the child was seemingly perfect, she could not bring herself to actually pick up or hold the baby. Other than the brief moment when Isaac had laid him on her chest immediately after his birth, she'd had no physical contact with her son.
That was three days ago.
But not that the baby was being neglected, between William, Emily, Margaret Brackenreid, and a wet nurse brought in, the child was well-cared for and already loved beyond compare. It was already apparent that the child would want for nothing-except his mother.
It's not that Julia didn't love the boy (words could not express her feelings), or didn't want to care for him, she just couldn't. Oh, she was physically able, the birth had been long, but she was recovering nicely, her breasts were full of the milk needed to nourish him, and she could get out of bed to take care of her needs, but she couldn't be the mother that this beautiful baby deserved.
This baby deserved a mother who could love him without reservation, one who wasn't racked with guilt when she looked upon the child. A mother who hadn't chosen to terminate one pregnancy while reacting with joy over the news of a subsequent pregnancy many years later.
Why was the knowledge of one pregnancy enough to send her spiraling into despair, while the discovery of another the cause of joy?
Was it an issue of paternity with one baby being fathered by the man she loved, while the other was the product of a drunken youthful indiscretion?
What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she look upon her child that she'd made with William and just be happy? Why did she have to be reminded of her previous failures when looking at her three-day-old son? He was innocent of her past actions!
But, she couldn't bring herself to pick up the child and take delight in him. It would be an insult to the child she would have had so many years ago, and Julia couldn't bring herself to betray the child that would have been.
As the tiny boy cried in his cradle, Julia turned her back and waited for William or the nurse to attend to him as they always did.
She feigned sleep and squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears from spilling onto her face as William came in to tend to his son, whispering words of comfort to the boy.
She was sorry that there were no words that could comfort her.