Disclaimer: The Sound of Music belongs to 20th Century Fox. No infringement is intended. All original characters are mine.

Rating: T

Setting: Stefanverse, set about one month before Nearly Was. As with this AU, the Anchluss hasn't happened yet. The Von Trapps have too much other stuff to worry about.

Warning: This story crept up on me when I thought that life wasn't always raindrops on roses for this family, even is Stefanverse. There had to be some moments when there was some tension. Some may disagree with the choices of a character in this story, but it was something I wanted to explore.

Gratitude: To Ilandra, who always, always knows what I mean and is invaluable in helping me bring it out. Thank you for looking at this twice and one troublesome bit a third time. You're a gem! Also, thank you to Joolsfan, who was the first to hear of the idea as we sat in a pub. I'm sorry it took me eight months to finally get it out, but you know how things go. Also, thank you to Monroe-Hepburn, who was wonderfully patient and constant in her inquiries in how the story was going. I hope you enjoy!

Regrets

The Von Trapp Villa was uncharacteristically quiet. It felt as if time had stopped and all that was left was a heavy, leaden immobility that pressed upon the house.

Even the air was still. And it was hot. It was the oppressive, draining heat that seemed to lay over Salzburg like a heavy blanket. No birds chirped, and it was possible that the fish were too hot to swim. There was no breeze to offer any relief. Outside, the Untersburg mirrored in the still glass lake surface.

Only the bugs seemed to relish in the heat. They sang with abandon, mocking the rest of the world which was too lethargic to move.

The Von Trapp children sat motionless inside the living room, which had never felt so small. They were molded into their surroundings, both heat and raw emotions draining them from any movement.

The sun was finally starting to descend behind the trees, bringing what felt like the longest day into darkness. Maybe the night would also bring some comfort, for everyone was on edge and the heat was only intensifying it. The silence was deafening.

Louisa shifted and rubbed her neck in a futile effort to remove the sweat coating it. Kurt thumbed through a novel, not registering the words. Marta and Gretl had long since forgotten to dress their naked dolls. Friedrich was playing cards with Liesl's fiancé, Gunter. Neither was positive what the score was. The only child displaying any type of movement was Stefan, who sat at Louisa's feet and made occasional swooshing sounds as he moved his toy boat over the carpet.

Sitting stoically alone on the windowsill was Brigitta, her face a mask of guilt-ridden fear. Occasionally, her siblings would cast a quick glance at her, only to turn away when her eyes moved to meet theirs. No one had spoken to her in hours.

All of the maids and footmen seemed to have vanished. Well, it was Sunday; they were with their families. Except for Frau Schmidt, who was upstairs.

There was an odd sense of déjà vu; the children were scattered about, the tension draping over them. But there were striking differences. Their father wasn't with them, and the fear far outweighed the hesitant happiness.

Brigitta wrung her hands together, her wide eyes on the verge of tears. The older children couldn't help but feel sorry for their sister. Brigitta always said what was on her mind, and they knew she hadn't meant for things to get so out of control. The younger ones were too confused to understand the whole story. They only knew what was happening at the moment.

Stefan crashed two boats together, and the entire group jumped. The boy looked up at Louisa. "So quiet."

Her attempt to smile failed. "We're all just praying, Stefan," she answered.

The child pursed his lips together. "Why?"

"For Mother and the baby," Gretl answered, and Stefan's eyes widened, not understanding.

"The baby will be born today, Stefan," Marta said, her voice assuring. "Soon, you'll be a big brother!"

The boy brightened for a moment, but then fell silent again, as if wondering why everyone was so grave on what had been promised to be a happy event.

Louisa rubbed his head. "Mother is just working very hard to bring the baby into the world, Stefan," she said. "Having a baby can be challenging."

"He doesn't need to know that," Kurt snapped.

Louisa glared at him. "He doesn't need to be lied to either."

"Please," Friedrich pleaded before the argument could continue. Awkwardness joined the tension in the silence.

"I wish someone would come down and say something, just to let us know what was going on," Marta said after a moment. "I hate not knowing."

"They're all busy upstairs," Gunter said.

Gretl sighed. "I wish I could hear Mother, like we could when…" she trailed, casting a quick glance to Stefan. "If we could hear her, then we'd know she was at least still…"

"Stop it!" Kurt snapped again. "It's just different this time."

Louisa stole a glance at Brigitta, who looked as if she was about to be sick.

"Please, everyone," Friedrich said, "let's just remain calm and pray for the best. I'm sure Father or Liesl will come down soon, saying the baby and Mother are fine."

"Her time isn't until for another three weeks," Marta said, her mouth forming a tight line of worry.

Gretl quickly glanced to the windowsill and then down to her doll again. "She wouldn't have been outside. She wouldn't have been running –"

"That's enough, Gretl," Louisa interrupted. "What's happened has happened."

The group returned into the discontented silence. Gunter shuffled the cards, and Kurt flipped the novel back to its start. Stefan studied the bow of his toy boat, and Marta and Gretl finally remembered to dress their dolls.

The sound of footsteps broke into the fragile calm. The children had seemed to stop breathing and turned. Gunter quickly rose and walked over to Liesl, who was standing in the doorframe, her expression drained.

The eldest Von Trapp brightened as her fiancé approached her. Taking his hand, she sighed, the exhaustion making her look ten years older. She gazed around the room.

"Liesl?" Gretl's voice was unnervingly quiet.

"A girl," Liesl said. "Klara."

The collective breath was released, trailed by an escape sob from Marta. Kurt buried his face in his hands, and Friedrich ran his hand through his hair. Louisa hugged Stefan close.

"She's small, but healthy," Liesl continued, grasping Gunter's hand. "She's beautiful."

"And is… is…"

All turned to Brigitta, whose eyes were shining.

Liesl stared at her sister, her expression unreadable. She breathed in sharply, as if looking for the gentlest words.

"She's very weak; we thought she had started to hemorrhage – "

"What?" Gretl asked.

"She lost a lot of blood," Liesl explained. "The doctor stopped it, but she…"

Brigitta's face turned even whiter.

"The doctor believes she will recover, but it'll take a while. She'll be in bed for at least a month," Liesl continued.

Kurt swallowed. "But she will be all right, won't she?"

Liesl nodded quickly. "The doctor thinks so, but it will take a while," she repeated, shaking her head and looking desperately at Gunter. He guided her to an obliging chair. Marta and Gretl walked over to her, and Liesl hugged them close. Gunter squeezed her shoulder.

Friedrich swallowed. "How is Father?"

His sister paused. "He's confident she will be all right."

Stefan shuddered despite the oppressive heat. "May I see Mama?"

Liesl smiled. "Father is with her for a moment, Stefan," she answered. "He wanted to stay with her alone for a little while. He'll come down shortly and will take you to see her."

Louisa stole a glance to the windowsill, and her eyes widened.

Brigitta had vanished.

To be continued...