"I'm fat."
"You're pregnant."
"I'm fat."
"That's because you're pregnant," Jonathan informed his wife, sitting onto the edge of the bed as he fiddled with the tie around his neck, pulling it in different directions until it sat perfectly against his chest and he did up the buttons on his cuffs. His wife remained stood at the end of the room, looking in the mirror as she held up the red dress to her body and sighed to herself.
"I'm too fat!" she complained again as Jonathan took a deep breath, controlling his annoyance before he stood up and shrugged into his jacket.
"That's because you're pregnant," he reminded her and she shook her head quickly, her limp blonde curls moving around her face as she dropped the dress to the floor and stomped her foot like a little child.
"I thought I was supposed to have a natural glowing look?" she informed her husband who pinched the bridge of his nose, telling himself it was just the hormones that were messing around with her as he checked his watch.
"You do," he assured her. "You look beautiful to me every day."
"You're my husband," she said dryly. "You're supposed to say that."
"If it helps to calm you then I'm open to anything," Jonathan assured her, kissing her on the cheek as his arm wrapped itself around her waist and she pushed his black hair behind his ears as he remained straight lipped.
"I'm going to go baby shopping today," she informed him, still playing with his hair as he nodded in agreement.
"Okay," he simply spoke. "Don't overdo it though; you look like you're ready any day now."
"Is that because I'm fat?" she asked him and he shook his head at her, wishing he could bite his tongue some days as she remained silent and he wondered if she was about to cry. Why did she think she was fat? She was pregnant! Did she not realise that she had another human living inside of her? Of course she did. She ate enough for the pair of them.
"You're pregnant," Jonathan reasoned with her. "Look, I have to go to work. Just...please, don't do anything strenuous, okay?"
"Yeah," she agreed. "I get it."
"Because I would love to be at the birth of our child," he informed her, grabbing his briefcase as he left their bedroom and moved into the living room, picking it up from the wooden coffee table as Isabelle stood in the doorway, her arms folded across her enlarged stomach as she remained looking at her husband.
"I intend for you to be," she promised him and he grinned again at her, picking his keys up from the small dining table as he looked at the majority of baby stuff which was contained in the living room. He never knew having children would be this costly or time consuming. "And, I can't give birth yet. You won't let me put the cot up and you haven't done it."
"I'll do it," he promised her. "I managed with the bookshelf, didn't I?"
"Yes," Isabelle said, looking over to it as it stood in the corner near the window of the ground floor flat. "Hence why the shelves are wonky."
"You're always so picky," he complained, placing his glasses onto his nose as Isabelle rolled her eyes.
"Have a good day, dear," she called out to him as he grinned and closed the door behind him, shaking his head as he failed to believe what he had.
He made his way through the foyer of the small apartment building before moving onto the quiet street which they lived on. He walked to work most days, preferring some air. Harrows Street was small and quaint, full of large white apartments with black fences lining their way and an uneven pavement which led onto the busier streets of London.
Jonathan failed to believe his good luck sometimes. He had managed to find a job as a psychiatrist in a private practice which had begun expansion. Apparently, he had a talent for it. If only they knew his true talent. He and Isabelle had remarried in a small ceremony with just them two. It was like the Vegas wedding he had initially proposed on having.
And, she was ready to give birth any day now. The baby was growing healthily inside of her, doing what it should. She never stopped smiling as they went to the scans, her face alight with joy as she looked at Jonathan who had to force the smile onto his lips for her. Physically the baby was fine. Mentally, was a different issue.
...
Isabelle quickly changed out of her pyjamas and placed on a pair of trousers along with her white blouse as she looked at herself in the mirror. It was no use. Everything which she tried on looked terrible on her. She didn't suit pregnancy. Well, she didn't think she did. She'd warned Jonathan that another child was not on the agenda for a while and he had chuckled, simply clearing the table away as she continued to eat the sweets he had bought her. Her cravings were certainly up and down.
She felt a sudden bump in her stomach, shaking it off as she began to move out of the apartment, checking the patio doors were locked as she wandered to the shops of London, looking for baby toys and maybe some neutral clothes. The gender was unknown; both of them deciding that would be for the best. Isabelle barely noted how the baby continued to kick at her until she doubled over in pain, grabbing onto a table full of jumpers for support as a shop assistant moved over to her.
"Are you okay, Miss?"
"Yes," Isabelle said, her voice not convincing as she suddenly heard the splashing noise from beneath her and she looked down as the shop assistant panicked.
"Your water has broken," she said. "I'll call for an ambulance."
...
"Dr Crane," his assistant's voice spoke out as she poked her head around the wooden door, looking on as the man finished writing down his notes in his notepad and he looked up at her, peering through his glasses and wondering what she wanted.
"Yes?"
"The hospital just called. Your wife has gone into labour."
Jonathan dropped the pen which he had been writing with as he stood up quickly, his chair rolling back as he did so and he rushed to the coat stand, picking up his jacket and flinging it over his arm as he filled his briefcase with the paperwork.
"Cancel all of my appointments for the rest of the day," he demanded from her and she nodded, holding the door open as Jonathan slammed his case shut, picking it up and then looking at her as he thought about what else needed doing.
"Actually, try to get Robert to take them...some of them are important. And tell him about Mrs Ryan and her husband...she's needy and won't talk to him unless she can trust him..."
"Yes, Dr Crane," she agreed and Jonathan smiled once, thinking about what was about to happen as his assistant looked at him.
"Well...I'd best go and see how Isabelle is getting on..." he said, his voice full of business as the assistant stifled a laugh. It was rare he allowed himself a moment of happiness at work. He was always so cold and stiff. This was certainly a different side to him.
...
"Where's Jonathan?" Isabelle wailed, her hands holding onto the mask which she had, giving her oxygen as she lay on the hospital bed in the gown, feeling the baby moving inside of her as the midwife made a fuss and Isabelle flung her head back, trying not to yell out in pain.
"Your husband is on the way, Mrs Crane," he assured her and Isabelle shook her head, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead as she tried to stop herself from wanting to push. He had to be here. He had to.
"You need to push, Mrs Crane. The baby won't wait," the midwife said sternly and Isabelle wailed out in pain again.
"I can't!" she yelled. "He's not here!"
"No need to worry, Mrs Crane. He's here now," the midwife said as the door flung open and Jonathan stumbled in, dumping his briefcase onto the empty chair as Isabelle glared at him.
"You're late!" she snapped and he blinked profusely at her, removing his glasses as she screamed out in pain again.
"Is it that bad?" he asked her, picking her hand up as she squeezed it tightly so he feared for circulation. Clearly, the glare he was receiving didn't warrant spoken words for an answer as Isabelle yelled again and Jonathan stood by her side.
"You're doing great," the midwife promised her. "You just need to push a little harder."
"How?" Isabelle yelled. "How can that thing come from my-"
"-Isabelle," Jonathan warned her and placed his cold hand onto her hot cheek, stroking her hair from her face as he bent down slightly, his eyes looking into hers and promising her that she would be okay. "You're going to be fine. You're going to do this and then you're going to see that it was worth it...our baby...okay? Keep pushing. You have to keep pushing."
Isabelle took a deep breath, sitting upright as she pushed hard and Jonathan wrapped his arm around her shoulders, sitting down on the edge of the bed as she remained squeezing his hand.
"One more push!" the woman called out and Isabelle leant back again before pushing.
"We can see the head," the woman assured Isabelle. "One more push, sweetheart."
"Oh God," Isabelle complained. She did what was asked, letting out one final yell before she collapsed back against the bed, panting as she heard the wails of the baby fill the room. Jonathan quickly kissed his wife on the forehead, holding her tight to him as the nurses wrapped the baby and made sure it was healthy.
"Is it okay?" Isabelle checked, Jonathan remaining silent and slightly pale due to his circulation being cut off as the midwife nodded once, wrapping the baby into a blanket and looking down at it.
"It's a girl and perfectly healthy," she informed them and Isabelle felt tears move into her eye as the nurse gently descended the baby into her arms and she held onto her delicately, wondering how to hold her without hurting her as her cries settled down.
"Do you have a name for her?"
"Not yet," Isabelle said, unable to take her eyes from her child as Jonathan looked down onto her, her small beady eyes looking back at him and he felt something rise in his chest as the baby curled her hand around Isabelle's finger and his wife smiled down at her with glee. She looked across to Jonathan who looked back at her as she kissed him on the cheek and he smiled at her.
"She's beautiful," Isabelle commented.
"She looks so fragile," Jonathan mumbled and the midwife chuckled.
"She's fit and healthy yet fragile," she agreed with Jonathan. "You need to take care of them two Mr Crane."
...
Isabelle had begun to worry. They'd brought their baby home the day after and she had been at home for one week. Jonathan continued to go to work, claiming they needed some money coming into the household as Isabelle cared for their little girl.
She knew Jonathan was scared of looking after a child. He was scared of breaking her or of how to even handle her. She knew he felt guilty for passing on his genes to her. Isabelle did worry to. But, she would be there for her when she needed her. Jonathan never received the help which he needed, but, he was fine now. He was fine with his tablets. Well, the voice was at bay, at least.
They still hadn't named her. Failing to agree on one name, but, she never slept. She kept both of them up at night and normally it was Isabelle who attended to her. But on the Friday night it was different. Isabelle awoke in the middle of the night, not to crying, but to silence. She looked around, her arm moving across the bed which turned out to be empty. She sat up, looking around and noted that Jonathan and their baby weren't there.
She stood up, placing her dressing gown over the shirt of Jonathan's which she slept in as she opened the bedroom door and looked into the apartment. A small light was glowing from the lamp by the sofa as she noted Jonathan laid on it, sprawled out as he spoke softly.
"And, of course, when you look at her you can understand why she is how she is. Her mother has cheated on her father. She doesn't believe in the concept of marriage, seeing as how the vows are so redundant in today's society, but, I had to assure her that they're really not if she doesn't want them to be. Like your mother and I. We're happily married now and honour our vows."
Isabelle remained stood still, listening to him before he noted her stood in the doorway and he turned his head across to look at her as their child remained resting on his chest.
"Did I wake you?" he asked and Isabelle shook her head, remaining stood up.
"Were you talking to our daughter about one of your patients?" she wondered and he grinned. "Patient and doctor confidentiality, Doctor Crane?"
"She won't tell anyone," he said confidently. "She began to cry so I brought her out here. If you lay them where they can hear your heartbeat then they will calm down."
"I see," Isabelle mused.
"She's sleeping now so you can go back to bed. I'll stay with her."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," he nodded, rubbing the sleep from his eye as he yawned loudly. "I've been thinking about names."
"Oh?"
"How does Emma sound?" he wondered. "It's traditional yet modern."
"I like it," Isabelle agreed with her husband and he smiled to himself, pushing his hand through his hair.
"Good," he said. "Go back to bed. I'll stay with Emma Crane."
"You'll make a good dad," Isabelle assured him and he smirked to himself.
"That's the plan."
...
A/N: Just a quick one shot for anyone who read The First Sign of Madness and wondered what happened when Jonathan and Isabelle managed to elope. Hope you enjoyed it!