A/N: Okay I confess, I'm playing with the time line a bit. I was trying to keep some semblance of real time and push things towards winter but I was out on this great bike ride today in the warm sun and the idea of writing winter just sounded depressing. So it's no longer moving towards winter...for the moment.
I probaby should have stayed quiet. I never notice weather in other people's fics.
Chapter Seven
Emma's POV
Washing her hands in the middle of the night while the toilet flushed was becoming a pattern Emma was quickly forgetting a time without. She was fairly certain that for the majority of her life she had successfully navigated the night without waking to a demanding bladder but as she blinked wearily into her reflection, wondering what Will would say if he found her asleep against the mirror, she was foggy on the details of such an existence.
Carefully she placed her hands over her stomach, rotating her body to the side, trying to imagine what she might look like at nine months pregnant and resisting the urge to check for visible evidence of the life growing inside her that she knew wasn't there yet.
She was nervous and excited about starting to show. Nervous because she didn't know how she would receive it and excited because then what they were doing, the family they were creating, would seem so much more real.
Her stomach growled as she blindly flicked the light off and she paused mid-step unsure of what to do. Indecisiveness gripped her in the doorway of the bathroom and she unconsciously rubbed at her stomach as if trying to caress the sensation away. This wasn't the first night this had happened, or even the first day. Her appetite had been increasing for the past few days, manifesting at weird times that she didn't feel comfortable eating at. So, up until now she had tried to ignore it. Tonight however she knew she wouldn't be able to fall back to sleep.
It was so much more than a hunger pain.
It was something that had first been categorized as a threat and then proof that she was succeeding and finally, somewhere in there, it rolled back around to what it was supposed to be; her body's signal that she needed food. Or in this case, her body adapting to the demands being placed on her body by her unborn child.
Mentally picturing the hallway she was standing in she turned for the kitchen only to stop after one step, frozen as if someone had taken a picture. It would have been an apt picture, showing how she was able to war with herself no matter the circumstance.
It was three in the morning. She hadn't eaten at three in the morning in over a year. At one point eating after eight in the evening had been unthinkable. Eight had morphed into five and for so long she had dwindled away her evenings with flavored teas and books.
This was something she hadn't ever thought to address, wanting food in the middle of the night. It had been unacceptable for so long that the idea really hadn't entered her mind, until now. In the darkness her thoughts seemed even more intrusive, pressured.
I can't go eat at three in the morning. That's ridiculous. It's only a few hours. I should wait until morning. Sleeping takes hunger pains away. Maybe I could eat something, something small. After all this is just because the baby is growing. It's not like it will become a habit. I don't know what to eat. This feels wrong. It's been so long since I've done this. How do I do this?
With a frustrated sigh she turned again, padding into the bedroom, over to Will's side of the bed. He never woke when she did anymore and she envied that.
"Will," Carefully Emma shook his shoulder, mentally apologizing for interrupting his sleep for something most people probably would have taken care of by now.
"Hmm?" He mumbled, trying to turn over and she considered letting him until she thought about going into the kitchen by herself at three in the morning.
"What is it? Is something wrong?" He sat up quickly, reaching out for her in the darkness. Trying to reassure him she placed a hand over his.
"Not anything serious." She began, unable to say that everything was alright because in her mind it wasn't. "I'm um, I'm really hungry," Emma backed up as he crawled out of bed, like she was withdrawing from her words. "I feel weird getting food right now and I was wondering if maybe you would get some too?"
As soon as she said she felt ridiculous. Waking her husband up when they both had work in the morning because raiding the fridge felt foreign and reeked vaguely of one binge-episode where she had literally sat in front of the fridge shoveling whatever food she could find into her mouth in a panicked rush. She hadn't bought real groceries in months, most of the shelves were just that, shelves, but her body had been so desperate for any form of sustenance that wasn't the oatmeal she been subsisting on that it hadn't mattered. It never mattered at that point.
She had downed half a bottle of Italian dressing, drinking it like a bottle of water.
That was something she had never told Will about. There were a lot of crazed low points she had never discussed with him, feeling that he had seen enough over the course of their relationship.
"Come on," his hands were on her shoulders, a fleeting comfort before he turned the hall light on, turning back to her with a compassionate expression overpowering the sleep still tugging at his features. "Let's go get some food."
Emma mouthed the shy thank you she couldn't find the voice for and followed her husband.
Standing in the kitchen with Will, the dim light above the stove bathing the room in a golden hue was significantly less daunting than it would have been had it only been her and for a moment she was reminded of sugar-infused slumber parties in grade school when her and a few select friends had snuck into her mother's kitchen for the candy always kept in the bread box next to the stove. Vaguely Emma wondered if she would ever be that care-free again.
Will yawned, stretching his arms over his head before scanning the room. "Graham crackers?" He questioned, eyeing the box she had picked up a few days ago but not touched.
She nodded, sitting down at the table while Will fetched the box and a plate, plopping a decent-sized pile between them. This wasn't so bad. This was nothing like that night had been and Emma hoped that in the future if midnight hunger struck again she wouldn't have to wake him.
"You know, I want some hot chocolate," Will looked contemplative as he chewed his first bite of cracker. "With marsh mellows and cinnamon. You want some?" He popped the rest of the cracker into his mouth, asking as though this was something they did every night.
She loved him even more for that.
Offering because she was there, not complaining that his alarm would be going off in a few hours even though she knew he had only been asleep for roughly two because he had still been up, Spanish essays scattered across the table, glasses perched on the end of his nose, red pen in hand when she had turned in.
His back was to her, boiling water on the stove the way he had often spoke of his mother doing when he was a boy when he voiced what had probably been on his mind since she had shaken him awake.
"Don't try to ignore it if you feel hungry okay? I swear I don't care what time it is if it makes you uncomfortable come get me. It just means that our baby is growing." He finished softly, the bright orange burner visible when he shifted his weight drawing her attention every time.
Something about the moment, the forbidden component of being awake and partaking in hot chocolate compelled her to revisit pieces of her past she hadn't told anyone.
"Sometimes I couldn't sleep because I was so hungry. I would raid the cupboards for something, anything to take that feeling away." She mused, allowing her mind to transport her back to a different kitchen, a different night, a different life. "I remember sitting in front of the fridge eating spoonfuls of jelly from jars I hadn't touched for months. I used to eat little handfuls of uncooked noodles from those bags of flavored pasta. The powder gave them flavor. At the time I really didn't think about how weird that was."
He glanced over his shoulder at her, his face saddened, eyebrows knitted together by an emotion she couldn't place. She wondered how her confession sounded to him. It sounded like the plight of a desperate soul to her.
A warn emerald mug appeared in front of her, the hot chocolate still swirling from him stirring in the cinnamon and she smiled when he dropped four marsh mellows in. It was something she had teased him about, always four.
The wind picked up outside, the sweet scent of chocolate, more vivid than she had ever known it to be, filled the room and Moritz appeared in the entryway, his tail wagging expectantly at the tip.
"Come 'ere." She called out softly, plucking a marsh mellow out of her mug and holding it next to the ground giggling at Will who was pretending to be annoyed at her actions, but she had seen him sneak food to the dog before when he thought she wasn't looking.
The retriever sniffed at the object in her hand, inhaling twice only to exhale forcefully, the air moist against her hand. He licked it once, swiping his tongue across his nose immediately after as dogs do, smearing a bit of soggy marsh mellow on his nose as he did so.
Emma laughed, Will joining in as the dog plopped onto his rear, his nose in the air as he frantically tried to lick away the substance on his tongue couldn't quite reach. He paused then, staring at them with an almost indignant expression and wandered out of the room still flicking the air with his tongue.
"I can still see him." Will commented, leaning back so that he could look around the corner. "He can't get it. Poor guy." When he turned back to her his face expression was serious, cautious, as though he wasn't sure about what he was going to say. "Promise me that you will eat when you feel hungry. It doesn't have to be a meal. Maybe we can get some granola bars or something, just promise me."
For an instant she remembered a time, before he had learned what was really going on, when he had made her promise that she would eat lunch, leaning against the door frame in her office, his expression concerned but not overly so. That was the last time he had ever made her promise, gentle guidance from Kristen suggesting that he maybe not use that word because it would only magnify her guilt if she didn't keep it.
That was then. This was now. And she was a different person now. She was pregnant with their child.
"I promise." She smiled back at him, taking a bite of a cracker as she did so. "Thank you for eating with me."
"Anytime." He grinned as the tone in that one word indicated just how serious he was despite his ensuing quip about their child needing to reset their internal clock because their midnight snack was three hours late.
Squinting into the sun despite her sunglasses Emma leveled her most imposing glare into the open-mouthed grin of the retriever who was gradually working himself into an adorable state of distress that only increased every time she refused to propel his deflated, yet beloved, ladybug toy across the yard.
"No more," She commented catching herself before she went on to needlessly explain that she had already been lobbing the stuffed bug for over an hour because the attention would only encourage the dog's antics.
He wasn't misbehaving, not really. As far as dogs went he wasn't exceedingly pushy but in the past Emma had made the mistake of giving in to his nudges and intense stares where he seemed to be attempting mind control and she was paying for it now.
For the past few weeks all she had wanted to do was crawl into bed so tonight, while Will went to a conference for Glee instructors that she had been invited to but declined, she was catching up on the exhaustion that was exhausting her with a glass of lemonade and a short story Jeanette Winterson's The Twenty-Four Hour Dog that had been recommended by a friend.
All she wanted to do was get lost in the wording that had captivated her from the first sentence.
All the dog wanted to do was retrieve like a mindless zealot.
Something, she mused, wasn't adding up.
"He was soft as Rainwater." Will's voice appeared behind her, mimicking the words she had read a dozen times over, followed by a hand on her shoulder as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "I'm going to go. Call me if you need anything. Anything." He emphasized before, bending down to pick up the toy the dog had finally given up on and chucking it out into the yard before she could stop him.
She was going to complain that she had finally gotten the dog to chill out when she caught the smirk in his tone as he disappeared back into the house and told her to enjoy her book.
"He threw it not me!" She fruitlessly explained to Moritz who dropped the slobber doused fabric right on top of the book she felt like using on Will that was sitting in her lap. "Will." She groaned under her breath vowing to get him back as she gave in completely and forced herself to stand, and purposefully sending the toy two inches to her left.
The dog only stared at her, as if he thought he deserved better.
"If her dog has a head like a question mark you have one like an exclamation point." She muttered, still longing for the world of words and phrases her own dog of unknown hours was forcing her to leave for another day.
She jumped when she saw Will grinning at her through the patio door.
"I forgot to say good-bye." He mouthed as he opened the door, stepping back out into the sun, looking dressed for school in slacks, a sweater vest and a long-sleeved button down. "Wife," he mumbled kissing her softly on the cheek before dropping down on one knee to softly kiss her stomach through the fabric of her shirt. "Baby," he said, his voice softer, washed in a quiet respect she adored.
Moritz seeing his number one person at his level happily discarded his toy and bounded over, pressing his nose into Will's cheek and licking him once. Emma cringed but Will only chuckled. "Dog." He drew out slowly and scratched him behind the ear, thankfully forgoing the same display of affection he had bestowed upon her.
He was gone then, for the second time, leaving Emma grinning to herself, one hand resting over the place on her belly where his lips had been.
With a sigh she forced her aching body out into the yard, aimlessly meandering through the grass careful to watch for doggy land mines as Will called them.
"I have sun tea, if you want some." A voice with a familiar unidentifiable accent rang out and Emma turned to find Amanda leaning against her side of the fence, a pitcher of sun tea sitting on a table on her own patio. "I would offer you coffee but I'm thinking that would be a no go because I don't have any decaf. Unless he kisses your stomach every time he says good-bye." She grinned, wrinkling her nose, her eyes more vibrant that Emma had ever seen as she quickly pulled her hair back. "I've heard of some weird fetishes though so maybe I shouldn't judge."
Emma found herself laughing along, smiling to herself as she thought about the woman's words and how Will had probably paid more attention to her stomach, including kisses and caresses, than most spouses.
"I'm pregnant." She confirmed still getting a certain thrill out of saying the words, knowing that they applied to her.
At school Shannon had nearly dropped the sandwich she had been working her way through and had given Will a high-five followed by a bone-crushing hug that she could tell by his expression had taken him off guard. Her own hug from the coach had been much gentler. And she had pulled her chair out before she sat down. It was a shame more people couldn't see past her appearance. She had a heart of gold.
Sue had somehow caught wind of the news before she had found her surrounded by the latest trophies from the cheerleading season. She had noticed that Sue didn't dust the objects as much as she once did. She was relaxing into herself more and the hug and heart-felt congratulations that had been mixed with a sadness Emma assumed was for her own lost child-bearing years showed just how far the woman had come. She was still Sue though, and Will had endured numerous genetics-themed hair jokes, all with a smile.
"No more running around without a bra anymore," Amanda quipped with a friendly grin, training her eyes directly on Emma's. "That probably sounded weird. I only say that because I sometimes forget to wear a bra you know, you understand." Emma paused, transfixed by the woman's stare, by the emphasis on that word that had been so slight that someone else would have definitely missed it.
Emma understood. She understood perfectly.
Even when she had been at her lowest weight she had always worn a bra to work, training bras meant for adolescents, but a bra nonetheless. In the comfort of her own apartment she had often neglected to wear one because she had loved the knowledge that she was small enough, she could get by without it.
Breasts had been fat deposits marring her progress and a bra had been merely an article of clothing designed to support that fat. Yes, she understood.
She hadn't spoken much with Amanda, only a few words exchanged in the morning before they all left for work but she had learned quickly that the young woman often spoke her mind, coming up with the oddest observations about things Emma never thought twice about but always ended up contemplating later.
Amanda motioned to the tea and Emma made her way out of her yard and into her neighbor's telling the dog, ladybug in mouth, to be good.
"Does it bother you? That you are going to gain weight?" The brunette asked as she poured the iced beverage into a transparent glass. "Sometimes I think pregnant woman look…" She trailed off, her mouth abruptly closing as what she was going to say, and the state of who she was going to say it to, sunk in.
"I used to think that." Emma jumped in eager to convey that she wasn't offended. "I used to think they looked fat." She finished the statement so there was no confusion before taking a sip and sighing. "It's funny but as you gain weight suddenly people don't look so heavy anymore. When I was really sick I remember following this person through the mall angry at how much skinnier they were than me and then their mom walked over. That girl must have been twelve, maybe."
Amanda nodded, comprehension flashing through her eyes as she tucked her long, slender legs beneath her body in the oversized chair.
"I have to get rid of my running shoes." She commented in a defeated yet determined tone. "Well, I'm supposed to hide them but I know that won't work." She admitted and Emma could tell that piece of knowledge probably came first hand.
Glancing over Emma caught sight of the black and white tennis shoes just inside the patio door, sleek and modern looking, far too new in appearance for the miles they probably had logged.
"You must have been great at hide and seek." Emma joked, tilting her head in the direction of the shoes and Amanda's face broke into a smile.
"I was the best." She said, popping the 't', leaving Emma thinking that she probably was, that she probably tried to be the best at a lot of things. Like anorexia.
"I'm worried about the weight gain." Emma picked up their earlier topic before Amanda's divergence revealing that although she was scared of that aspect, she was determined to put her baby's health first.
They chatted amiably for another hour, the sun beginning to sink into the horizon seeming to zap the last of her already drained reserves out of her body. Agreeing to do this again soon Emma stopped just before she stepped onto the first step.
Wordlessly she turned and walked over to the patio door, sliding it open and picking up the shoes that sat just inside it, waiting until she was standing in the grass, peering up at Amanda, before speaking.
"I'll take these then."
The woman didn't say anything but Emma could see it in her eyes, her attempt not to cry, the silent 'thank you' that was deafening. Returning to Moritz, snoozing inches away from his toy, she carried the shoes inside and deposited them in the trash knowing that even if Amanda one day got to a point in her treatment where they were allowing her to exercise she would never go back to the same shoes unless she was going back to the disorder. Emma wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt.
She hadn't been able to do it either, throw away her scale. Her equivalent of the running shoes that would go to the dump tomorrow morning.
It was eight in the evening and Will still hadn't gotten home. He hadn't been sure what time he would get in but as Emma fidgeted on the couch, trying anything she could think of to distract herself from the sensation between her legs, she found that she really wanted him, his hands, mouth, and kisses to leave early and come home to her.
She had read about pregnancy hormones. How they might make her incredibly horny but she had laughed it off, sighted it as an excuse for pregnant woman to get more. She wasn't laughing about it anymore and her frustration tolerance for the situation had hit zero half an hour ago.
Heading to the bathroom she paused long enough to switch her Ipod on, not really caring or noticing what the music was as she stripped her way through the hall, her underwear falling to the floor as she sat on the edge of the tub and waited for the water to warm, adding bubbles because she felt like it.
The water was heaven. The suds creeping up her chest and covering her body as she sunk down up to her chin before propping herself up at the back of the tub, closing her eyes to the notes of a song she knew she should be able to recognize but really didn't have the clarity of mind to contemplate.
Slowly she slid her hand down her body, forgoing her breasts which had become increasingly tender, stopping between her legs for a moment, letting the anticipation build as she imagined it was Will who was going to be doing these things, his hand, not hers.
She let herself moan softly when she finally lowered her hand, so desperate for any kind of relief that she didn't care if she made noises for once.
Will's POV
The acoustic version of "Unchained Melody" from the West End musical Ghost was playing softly when he walked into the dimly lit house, a rented movie in hand because they hadn't really decided what to do tonight.
Stretching as he stepped past the couch he went to remove his vest when the sight of Emma's shirt lying crumpled on the floor stopped him. Slowly he lowered his arms, his eyes following a disorderly trail of her clothing to the bathroom, where he could see light illuminating a section of the carpet.
Smiling to himself he picked up the clothes marveling at how it was something that would probably have annoyed most husbands, but it meant so much more than clothes being left on the floor with her. It meant progress and besides, she usually never left them long.
He knocked softly on the door, intending to tease her when his eyes widened at what he was seeing.
She was in the tub, bubbles surrounding her but her knees were visible and angled in such a way that he knew her legs were spread. Her head was tilted back, resting against the side of the tub and her chest was rising and falling rapidly, her cheeks flushed in a way he knew all too well.
His pants felt tighter as he stepped into the bathroom to the sound of a dainty moan.
Her eyes were closed, she didn't know he was there yet and briefly he considered letting her continue. It was so rare that he got to see her like this and he so very much loved to see her doing what she was now.
"I think you misunderstood." He cleared his throat as her eyes snapped open, propelling him forward with their arousal. "When I said call me if you need anything I definitely meant this kind of anything.'
She said nothing as he dropped down next to the tub shamelessly staring at the breast the bubbles had shifted to reveal. He could tell she was close, the way she couldn't form words and her eyes were unfocused yet sharp with desire. Supporting himself with one hand he leaned over the edge, bringing his mouth to hers while dipping his other hand into the warm water, not caring that he was getting his sleeve wet because he didn't want to deny her one second. Gently he caressed her inner thigh before moving it to the place she had no doubt just been touching as he slid his tongue into her mouth.
It was an awkward angle for him, bent over the side of the tub but the way she was writhing in the water, suds and droplets sloshing out to trail over the edge, made it so much better. She broke away from his kiss, inhaling with a gasp and he took the liberty of having his face inches from hers to watch her as she came.
Her lips found his again after, and her hand came up behind his shoulders to brush through his hair.
"Hey," he pretended to scold against her cheek, flinching as the water soaked through the back of his shirt. "You ready to get out?" He asked gently, moving to stand and retrieve a towel.
"No," she sighed, looking for more exhausted than a post-orgasm haze generally called for and his heart went out to her. "Well, how about I go make us a snack then alright?" She nodded, her head falling to the side and he reminded himself to check back in a few minutes to make sure she hadn't fallen asleep.
Finding himself once again faced with the task of deciding what she might want to eat he opted for some of the honey and oats granola bars they had picked up along with the graham crackers they had opened the other night.
As he set them out on the plate he remembered that Emma had once told him something she had learned in a Human Sex class while getting her Bachelor's, that the food was originally invented to decrease the urge to masturbate in men by a Reverend Graham.
"I wonder if they made any for woman. Not that I really want to stop that particular urge in her." He mused first to himself and then to the dog that had appeared in the doorway when he had started speaking. "I think I like her like this and I think you are going to be sleeping on the couch more often bud, sorry." He paused, pursing his lips at Moritz, pretending to think. "You know what? The couch is comfy, you'll be fine and I'm not sorry. Definitely not sorry."
As he waited for Emma, deciding to give her the five more minutes she so often pleaded for in the mornings, he thought about the other night.
Her waking him up because she was uncomfortable getting something to eat at that time was both unsettling and comforting. As he had watched the water boiling, listening to her talking about the things she had ate, blanching at the thought of uncooked noodles, it had hit him that there were a lot of things he still didn't know about the disorder he had seen so much of. It hurt to hear her speak that way but he hoped that she would continue to reveal things.
She had promised that she would eat when she felt hungry and he felt safe in her promise because she wasn't the terrified, controlled woman he had met so long ago. She was independent and strong and confident.
They had discussed her late night bouts of hunger yet that night deciding that maybe a late snack would be the best way to go. He had a feeling she would still eat even if he didn't but he had never been one to turn down food, perhaps one of the reasons it had taken him so long to truly grasp the eating disorder that had enveloped her.
She smiled shyly as she slipped into the kitchen, wearing one of his t-shirts and he was transfixed by how radiant she seemed, how naturally beautiful she was in the dim lighting even though her hair was wet around her shoulders and his shirt took away any semblance of shape from her body.
Fixing her with his own sly grin he motioned to the table. "For your pleasure, my dear." He whispered seductively, coming up behind her, wrapping his arms her and burying his nose in her hair. "You smell like sun-ripened strawberries." He commented before stepping away to let her sit down, glad that she had used the shampoo he had gone back to buy because it had reminded him so much of her.
He could tell by the look in her eyes as she seemed to devour him as much as the food from her place across the table that Moritz was going to be sleeping on the couch tonight, and he wasn't sorry, not really.
A/N: That weather in Lima, crazy stuff...almost as bad as here...
A huge HUGE, beyond grateful thank you to both epicwemma and classicbookworm who have so kindly provided me with tips on writing pregnant Emma. Having never been, it was getting a little overhwelming trying to sort out info on the internet. That being said, if you notice any glaring mistakes in her pregnancy (yes I know it usually takes nine months :) ) please don't tell me...unless they are really bad! Ignorance is bliss and I love bliss.
I hope you enjoyed hormonal Emma. I should have doubled checked my messages to see when they said that kicked in but I wanted to write it and figured you guys wouldn't mind:P