Description: John is unsure about becoming a father. Written for the Banna Secret Santa Exchange 2017.
Warnings: Set sometime in series 6 with minor spoilers for the series.
A/N: So this is my present for nurs3gir1 as part of the Banna Secret Santa Exchange 2017. I'm sorry this is so late, Christmas and New Years were both... interesting for me. Forever grateful to silly-beggar for being the most excellent beta.
Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: Anna, Bates and Downton Abbey all belong to Julian Fellows and and are not my intellectual property. I'm only borrowing them for a bit and I fully intend to give them back!
Ever since Anna had shared with him her – no, their – news, it had seemed to John like the gods really were smiling down on them. Every morning he would wake up beside his beautiful wife and thank whoever was listening for the joy given to them in the form of a tiny heartbeat. Every evening he would fall asleep in the arms of his wife, making sure to cherish the soft skin that carried their child. Invisible under her black uniform, the little life that Anna carried was beginning to make him or herself noticeable with a slight rounding of her stomach – noticeable only to one as well acquainted with Anna's body as John was honoured to be. Although he couldn't wait to have friends sharing in their excitement, John was, for the time being, enjoying their secret being, well, secret.
At the Abbey, he would follow Anna around like a lost puppy dog, constantly assuring not only her comfort and safety, but that of his child too. He had told Anna (and meant it when he said it) that he was perfectly content with just his beautiful wife but, now the prospect of a child was finally within his grasp, John would stop at nothing to give this gift to her. He had sworn, all those years before, that she would never be harmed again and now was determined to uphold his promise.
Occasionally though, lying awake next to a sleeping Anna, his thoughts would take a negative turn and drift to his undeniable inability to be a good father. What child would want a crippled Dad? John knew that he could never run around or teach them to climb trees or play cricket. Yes, he could teach him or her their letters and maybe they could read a bedtime story together but John wanted to do more. Even after Anna confronted him about his brooding and told him that she could imagine or desire no better father for her child, the doubt remained at the back of his mind, niggling. He was determined to give this child everything he had been denied as a boy. Even all these years later, John was haunted by unpleasant memories of his father and was determined that their little one would never have the same experience.
In the end, it took a dream (of all the things!) to quell John's fears.
Their day had started like usual: up before the sun and dashing around to secure buttons and hooks so they could make it up to Downton in time for breakfast. Mary had been in a particularly grumpy mood and so John had been deprived of his beautiful wife's company for the majority of the day. And beautiful she really was. Ever since her delightful news, Anna had been like a ray of sunshine. There was no doubt about it, she glowed.
Much later on that day, the couple were cosied up in front of the fire, swapping stories from the day. John was lounged in an armchair, waistcoat buttons undone and shoes off with Anna curled up in his lap. As had become habit, John was tracing patterns on her stomach gently, showing their little one how much he or she was loved. Anna sighed, obviously enjoying the attention too. Once they'd finished telling each other about their days, the conversation lulled into a comfortable silence. The fire crackled, the wind howled and contentment reigned.
It was then that Anna began to speak. She'd had a dream, the night before, and oh John it was so wonderful. She spoke of them in the future, surrounded by not one child but many, a giant, happy family that they had created. She would teach them to cook and to clean, showing them how to get the bed covers just right. He would teach them to bake (she never had had much luck with pastry) and how to write their letters and how to tell a story. Birthdays and Christmases would be full of special presents and rich food and joy. So much joy. Anna's eyes danced in the firelight as she shared the details and, privately, John thought she had never looked more beautiful.
But, for once, it wasn't his wife's beauty that had truly captivated him but her words. For in every scene, Anna had dreamt of John, just as involved as herself. Just as loved by their children. It soothed John's fearful heart and, at last, he too was able to dream of the future, their future, without trepidation. For he knew that if his wife could love him as much as she did, her children could also love him too.