We were happy after that. We were deliriously happy, locked in some sort of trance together. Everything was pleasurable, cooking, cleaning, the little spats we'd have over whether or not simply had to visit my father for dinner or not. It was a stupid kind of perfect, the kind of stupid you find in every romance novel of the time, fluffy and idealistic, we hadn't a care in the world.

It was fall of 1954 when Psi returned once more to our happy little abode. He hadn't known that I was pregnant, or that there had been such trouble between John and I. Psi was distant though, returning from a trip to a far away place from which he refused to send me letters. He was so different from what he'd once been. We'd never been as close as John and I had at the start of our whirlwind romance, but once upon a time Psi and I had at least been on that track.

But now he'd come back, and he was only there just so I could make sure he was actually alive. I'd missed him, that was no secret. Whenever I knew where he was on his travels, I'd send a letter to the hotel he would stay at. I'd never get one in return, and sometimes when I'd think I had, it was only the hotel sending my letter back with the simple message 'This patron is no longer staying with us here at the hotel.'

It all seemed like such a simple notion but he kept breaking my heart with it, and I never once let John see the pain, until finally he came back. I had tried to forget. I tried to forget him with every passing day, but had only managed to push his memory further into my stream of consciousness. Nothing had gone quite right since he'd left. I thought that maybe with the baby i'd be so busy that I'd forget about him, that myself and John would have the perfect life in our picket-fenced home. How wrong I was.

John was becoming increasingly more distant, every time I confronted him he spewed some crap about River. I understood, I did, but when he had been the one to suggest starting a family? I had started to wonder why we'd ever thought about it in the first place. He obviously couldn't handle it.

So I started going for walks, when I felt up to it i'd go across town, maybe visit my father or Nina. I would d get away from the house. John wasn't home a lot, he would always find a new student to tutor or make plans to have dinner with Wilf. Thus I found myself alone most days and it took all I could to face him on those nights. So I walked.

But there was a rather peculiar day. John had kissed me on the cheek that morning, something he hadn't done in a while (I was bound to find it odd). It puzzled me, and I got lost on my way to a book store. I'd wandered into the more populated area, townhouses lining most of the streets, alleys parting clusters of them. Then, just up ahead of me I saw a familiar face ducking out of a townhouse.

Psi.

I strode fairly confidently up to him. He stood emotionless when I came to a stop, staring up at him with a hesitation to speak. My eyes widened at the close-up sight of him. His hair had been unusually disheveled, suit a bit wrinkled, and he looked like he'd been up for hours on end. Yet he had that unlimited boundless energy that I could barely register was even there for once. He was that still, that different.

Then he bounced into his normal prattling on self and began discussing the power of fours. I nearly lost it. I felt dizzy. He looked at me, but saw straight through. 'He doesn't love you' suddenly sprang back to my mind, accompanied with a sense of loss. Flinching back at the disembodied though, I tucked my arms around my stomach as if he might have gone off at me any second. Like I needed to protect. He was different, mentally different, more unhinged. Every shred of normality I'd seen him achieve before had vanished, and he'd almost seemed worse. Sure he was more polite, but the anger and the voice were just under the surface, peeking out with every wrong action.

His rambling shocked me. Psi of course did this a lot when we gallivanted around together, 'investigating' in the early days, but it was never.. it hadn't on this new sort of scale. It hadn't gotten to the point where it looked like he was saying anything he could just to avoid saying something else. My wide eyes filled with tears. He didn't care that I once meant something to him, or vice versa. I shook my head, trying to force those terrifyingly realistic thoughts away.

His constant pacing stressed me, my temples pounded with a headache and my cheeks were wet with tears. The babbling was worse than silence. It was worse than arguments.

"No." I managed to croak. "I should be getting home. Dinner to make, hopefully for two, practice for three." I didn't care if I made much sense at the time. Now I wanted out. My dreams of him reappearing had crashed down, expectations of a warm and apologetic welcome smashed to pieces. "You're busy. I shouldn't…"

Psi had managed to shut his mouth long enough to listen to me. I supposed sounded not so good and when he decided to finally look at me.. well, I appeared that way too so it mustn't have been that far of a jump. He hesitantly walked closer to me, for I was still standing a good five feet away. Honestly, he looked and moved like he was trying to prevent a stray animal from scurrying away from him and into the shadows. Maybe he was. Maybe I was afraid. Maybe I should have been.

"Why're you crying?"

He reached out slowly, trailing the back of it down my cheek and wiping away the tears I hadn't known were there. Psi was prepared to focus on anything it seemed, everything, as long as there was always something in his mind to evade what he wanted to avoid. Or maybe he wanted to address it? No, no. That's what he was trying to prevent then.

"Because I don't like making you cry. I do it a lot though, don't I? I'm good at that, I'm good at hurting things, Connie. Why haven't you forgotten me by now? Why'd you come here? How'd you find me? Where's John? What is that? You don't seem..."

Trailing off, he leaned in my direction, eyes narrowed. I shut my eyes then, trying as hard as I could to will the situation into a dream. I didn't want this anymore. I didn't want to see him anymore. My breath hitched at his touch, and I didn't dare open my eyes to his. I couldn't have been that close to him and kept my cool. Psi's actions puzzled me. So cruel and ignorant one minute, so confusing and caring the next.

"I'm pregnant." I said slowly, then hesitating before unwrapping my arms from around the tiny bump I'd had at the time. I remember suddenly feeling vulnerable. With my only happiness revealed to him I was petrified that he'd have tried to take it away. Hurt me, scare me, somehow make me lose the child no matter the outcome of its life. It was cruel these imaginary acts I was accusing him of possibly being capable. But I was terrified, having only recently began to come into my impending motherhood. It wasn't necessarily just me to be worried about anymore. I opened my eyes at long last, and was shocked to see the look in his own.

Worried. I'd never have expected that in a hundred years, not back then. He hadn't been angry.

"I'm pregnant." I said again, voice a little stronger, confidence returning with a slow ambition to.