This Child
"..to raise 'this child.' Live 'this life.' Takes place in the past around the time Elisabeth is pregnant. I do not own anything yadda yadda yadda, also only seen Season 1 so far - so apologies if all this has been disproved later in the show.
It felt like a butterfly fluttering its wings against the buttons of her jeans. Like a tiny finger tapping gently the inside of her abdomen. It felt remarkably like fear she thought as she stared out the car window fighting her nausea from the smell of blood and urine lingering from the fight that she somehow could not get out of her nose.
The butterfly was her secret for now. It was what the Center wanted, and she was used to following direction, but this time it just felt wrong. This creature was not like a wig or a pair of glasses that you could close away in a vault when not needed. Consolidating a disguise was not a good enough reason to bring someone else into the picture, someone without a choice. A child should be borne out of passion, out of love, and certainly not out of an operational need. If only things were different…
She looked at Philip, his jawlines still tense from the mission, driving purposefully to the refuge of their house, which felt more like a tactical base than a home, and Elisabeth was fine with that. She wondered what his reaction was going to be; joy, apprehension, relief? He seemed genuinely invested in fitting in, raising a family. It was the one order from the Center he seemed to be embracing enthusiastically. For her, it felt like the ultimate invasion into her core, although under the many layers of onion, she was not entirely sure she had a core anymore. Maybe it was all layers and then just emptiness.
After all these years working and living together, Philip was still a stranger to her, albeit a familiar one. Surely, there was more than one Philip: her partner, the highly efficient and lethal KGB operative she had learnt to count on and trust and her "husband", the goofy American guy, content and comfortable with his new life whose motivations kept eluding her. Could she trust this other Philip? And most importantly, did she want this child with either of them?
"I'll drop you off at the house and take this to the drop point" she heard him say.
"OK" – normally she would have argued, but this time, she was glad to remain alone. It was a chance for her to throw up and take a shower before he returned. The butterfly would stay her secret for now, she decided.
