Chapter Nineteen

When her thoughts are not consumed by her work, in which she is still sadly behind after being unable to focus on it yesterday, Ana vacillates between worrying about whether she and Christian are really past the danger and smiling at the memory of how cute he was last night. He's trying so hard to make up for lashing out at her in his panic, but Ana still feels so hurt that, when she imagines being close to him, all she feels is afraid. She's yet again lost in thought when Ryan knocks on the door and enters her office, carrying a large wrapped gift. Smiling, he says, "Delivery for you, Mrs. Grey. It's safe."

He knows about her pregnancy; Christian's idea, so that her current bodyguard has all the information necessary to protect her and the baby. Ana has had to endure Ryan's congratulations and then quiet smiles all morning. She thanks him and he winks before leaving, a gesture so out of character for the normally reserved former FBI agent that Ana only stares at him, then shakes her head when he's gone, wondering if it's going to be like this with everyone when the news inevitably breaks.

Attached to the large box is a card featuring a photo of piano keys on which rests a blue butterfly; evoking a memory of what Christian had said on their honeymoon, about butterflies not knowing how beautiful they are. It feels as if her heart cannot contain her joy when she sees that he's written inside "Second reason why I'll make a good father; the gift of music," again signing it, "Grateful husband and proud father, Christian Grey." Wondering how he's managed it in such short time, and when he's working, she knows that he's not only reassuring her that he's sticking to their plan, but also reminding her – with the butterfly – of his love for her.

Now very curious, Ana opens the gift to find a pregnancy music belt; something she can wear as her belly expands, that will play music from her iPod at the perfect volume for a growing fetus. Christian will be busy by now, so she wipes the happy tears away and limits her gratitude to the short text message, "Bastard."

She almost hugs her phone when he soon replies, "Lucky bastard."

Pondering how she's going to get the gift home without letting her entire staff know that she's pregnant, Ana realizes that she should have known Christian would have considered that when, after a polite interval, Ryan returns with a large, plastic bag and whisks away the evidence, though she keeps the card, so she can look at it during the day.

Thankfully, with this boost to her courage, the day goes quicker and Hannah is soon alerting Ana that it's time for her appointment with the neurologist. Not that she doesn't trust her assistant, but "Appointment" really is all that the young woman knows and she doesn't enquire further, so Ana is genuinely grateful as she thanks her and heads out, of course accompanied by Ryan. At her car – her darling VW – Ana holds out a hand for the keys, but he says, "Uh, I've received instructions that you're not to drive until we know the cause of these headaches, ma'am."

Ana knows that she could override the order, and he would obey her. But, she's given Christian control, and these are his wishes. So she smiles enough to let Ryan know that she's not upset with him and says, "I guess it could have been worse; he could have said no driving until after the baby is born, and then we'd really have a problem."

Ryan smiles his gratitude and relief, saying, "I'm sure that will become a factor in later months. Thank you, ma'am. Not that it matters, but I happen to agree with him this time. Frequent headaches could be caused by any number of things that would make driving dangerous."

As she gets in the back seat, Ana quips, "Or a natural side-effect of being married to Christian Grey."

Chuckling as he starts the car, Ryan says, "Or that."

The waiting room of the private clinic is typically depressing, and the receptionist typically bored, but Ana doesn't have to wait long before she's in a consulting room being greeted by "Colin". Apparently having been provided with Ana's medical history, he asks several generic questions about her health and habits before saying, "Now, to the specific reason you're here; you've been having persistent headaches? When did they start? I understand you won't have paid attention to the first one or two; your best guess as to when the pattern began will be close enough."

Ana has given it some thought since Christian expressed some concern. "Thinking back, I'd say leading up to finals. I didn't think anything of it, with the strain I was under at the time. But they've worsened since then. Again, didn't seem that strange, given that I've met and married Christian Grey in the meantime, gaining a publishing company in the process and learning to cope with daily attention from the press." She knows that he has the information, but can't help the slight flush to her cheeks when she adds, "And apparently fallen pregnant."

Colin is taking notes as she speaks and clips, "Time of day?"

"Morning; almost always. Though they occasionally linger all day if I'm under a lot of strain, and sometimes reoccur if I'm tired enough to need a nap."

"Pain level on a scale of one to ten; with ten being the worst pain you've ever experienced?"

"Around an eight, I guess; worse than cramps, but not as bad as a broken bone."

"Ever woken by them?"

Actually becoming worried at these rather specific questions, Ana stammers, "Uh, yeah…sometimes. But I just find a comfy position that eases the pain and go back to sleep."

There; right there. Ana sees the moment when he becomes worried, and her heart is pounding when she dares to ask, "What is it?"

He recovers quickly, saying, "I'm not sure yet. Have you experienced any other neurological symptoms; gaps in memory, behavior changes, blurred vision, dizziness or fainting, speech problems, decreased motor skills?"

Becoming increasingly nervous, Ana jokes, "Well, all that just made me dizzy." When this elicits only a fake smile, she continues, "No, not really. I'm naturally clumsy, but have been less so since meeting Christian…he gives me confidence and focus. Uh, you'd better ask him if my behavior has changed. No vision or speech problems; likewise with the memory. I sometimes get dizzy if I don't eat regularly – it was even more of a problem in my teens – but that hasn't happened for a while, because I've been paying more attention to my diet. Was that it?"

"Yes, thank you. Your brain seems to be functioning just fine, but I'd like to run a few simple tests."

"Only after you tell me what's going on."

With an ease no doubt born of habit, Colin smoothly says, "It's too early to tell right now, Mrs. Grey. We'll know more soon."

"Just tell me what you suspect. I'm not going to faint, and I won't freak out."

He studies her for a while, obviously deciding how much to say, and then reveals, "I suspect a cyst or tumor. But, as I said, it's too early to tell."

The pulse of her emotional pain suddenly seeming to give the universe a heartbeat, Ana waits until the perceived sound recedes before saying, "You're talking about cancer."

Carefully studying her reaction, he continues, "Not at all, though that's one possibility. As I said, it's too early to tell, and only ten percent of tumors are cancerous. If it's a tumor – and it's a big 'if' – we're in luck; close to the surface and small enough not to cause anything other than headaches is as good as it gets with such a diagnosis. Worst case scenario is an entirely survivable condition, so try to maintain that calm."

Ana swallows her fear and asks, "Best case?"

Somewhat taken aback by the question, Colin says, "You need a new pillow; one better suited to the shape of your body. And there're all manner of possibilities in between. How about we get started on finding out which one it is?"

Remembering that Christian's perpetual concern for her health and comfort ensured he bought a tailored pillow when he first became aware that she often woke up in pain, Ana is already preparing herself for bad news when she says, "Please."

After several minutes of poking, prodding, positioning and instructing Ana to follow his finger with her eyes while asking her questions, Colin says, "Well, you can keep your pillow. I'd like to schedule an MRI, so we can eliminate a few more possibilities, and take a few samples, to see if they tell us anything." He sits down and motions that Ana should do the same before asking, "Your background information contains no mention of your father's medical history?"

Wondering how Christian got even Carla's history, Ana says, "Uh, no. My father upheld a long family tradition of dying young and leaving his widow and baby to cope on a military pension."

Adding something to the file before him, Colin says, "I'm sorry to hear that. And how old was he when he died?"

"Twenty-four, I think. Mom would know for sure. Why?"

"Because there's nothing in your mother's history to suggest this is a genetic condition. Again, just eliminating possibilities."

Ana nods and asks, "Is an MRI safe for the baby?"

"If we do without the contrast agent – the dye – almost certainly. You can check with your obstetrician if you're concerned."

"No, that's okay. If Christian chose you, I'm sure you're highly qualified." Then taking a deep breath, summoning further reserves of courage, Ana asks, "And, if it is cancer? What about the baby, then? I mean…I know it's not contagious, but…we're sharing a body, right?"

Finally losing some of his clinical coldness, Colin kindly explains, "Even as this age, your baby isn't defenseless. If cancer cells attempt to cross the placental barrier, they'll be destroyed. There's some evidence to suggest that leukemia or melanoma can transfer to a fetus, but that's not the case here. About one in a thousand women are diagnosed with cancer while pregnant. Of those, most survive, especially with an early diagnosis. There is mounting evidence – healthy, full-term babies – to suggest that even chemotherapy is safe, at least after thirteen weeks. I'm afraid that there's not been enough study done during the first trimester for me to allay your fears on that score, but we'll discuss options if today brings bad news." When Ana says nothing, he asks, "Ready to find out what we're dealing with?"

Somehow, the part of Ana's brain that is screaming "NO" doesn't get the panicked message to her lips. "May I please call my husband, first?"

Surreptitiously glancing at his muted phone, Christian sees that it's another message from Ana, and guesses that it's a diagnosis. "Excuse me, gentlemen, I need to take this."

Not even looking back to see how they feel about him walking out on the meeting, he slides the message open as he moves, to read, "Call me when u can."

Ana always – so far without fail – precedes such messages with a reminder that nothing is wrong, so his hands are trembling as he dials her number while instructing a confused Taylor, "We're leaving."

As if she's lost in a dark place, Ana answers, "Christian?"

Her timid greeting is enough to confirm his worst fears and he asks, "Tumor?"

He knows that he deserves her mistrust, but it still stings when she hesitates and then evades, "Not sure yet. They're running some tests."

Leaning his forehead against a metal column, the cold harshness of it reassuring him, Christian promises, "Baby, it's okay. I'm strong. This is yet another reason why I'll make a good father; I always hope for the best but plan for the worst. Right now only McKay knows more about headaches than I do."

He realizes that she's still unsure when Ana says only, "He said to call him Colin."

Silently cursing himself, because no one else is responsible for Ana currently feeling unable to lean on her husband in a time of crisis, Christian maintains control enough to calmly say, "Colin, then. Please, baby, let me take care of this. I won't let you down again. I'll be with you soon, and I will be a source of comfort."

Finally, he hears the woman he loves in her voice when she breathes an audible sigh of relief and says, "If I really doubted that, we wouldn't be speaking. He wants to run a bunch of tests and do an MRI. I'm so scared, Christian. He says that the baby will most likely be okay, even if it's bad news, but…what if it's really bad?"

Just the thought of it is enough that oblivion threatens, but Christian pushes it back with his fist, the pain immediately becoming an anchor for his sanity, and asks, "You still believe in that god of yours?"

"I do, though she remains strangely silent today."

Finally feeling good about himself, when he hears the humor in Ana's voice, Christian says, "You know that I don't. Nothing I've experienced in my life ever convinced me of a higher being with a benevolent plan…until you."

This time there are happy tears in Ana's voice when she eventually teases, "Are you telling me that you've done got religion?"

And then, miracle of miracles, he smiles. "Despite my name, no. I'm saying that, if you really are the gift from God that you seem, there exists no god cruel enough to take you from me when we've only just met."

His heart pounding, and mouth bone dry with fear that he's damaged her faith in him too much to be of any use to her, Christian only releases his breath when Ana gently promises, "Bastard."

Gasping his relief, he then says, "Thank you, baby. I'll be there real soon. In the meantime, imagine me holding your hand, because I very soon will be."

"Thank you. Should I wait for you?"

It's the final confirmation that she's again able to rely on him, and Christian doesn't let her down. "No, baby; not unless you really can't cope alone. We need answers, so we can work out what to do next. Just get started and I'll be there as quick as I safely can. I love you."

"You haven't said that since…oh, because I wasn't ready to hear it until now."

"Exactly. We'll be okay, baby, I promise."

"I believe you. We're not yet, though, because I feel weird about saying it back, sorry."

Mortified that she'd feel guilty about that, even as he's again stabbed with the knowledge that he almost destroyed her love for him, Christian says, "Hey, you haven't done anything wrong, remember?" Taylor is trying to catch his eye, so he concludes, "Time to go. I'm holding your hand."

"Get Taylor to look at it first."

"What?"

"I heard the thud, Christian. I'm not stupid. But I do love you, and I'll see you not quite soon enough."

Marveling at the wonder that is his wife, Christian finally notices the smeared blood on his abused knuckles as he says "Very soon, my love," then finds the strength to hang up.

Proving yet again why he's in such a trusted position, Taylor merely says, "Doing preflight now. You have just enough time to make your apologies."

"Thanks." It had galled that the medication Flynn currently has him on means that Christian needed to hire a temporary pilot for Charlie Tango. But he's suddenly glad, because it will save precious minutes. Despite the fact that Taylor has not asked for details, when he must know something is wrong, Christian checks that they're still alone before finding the courage to voice his terror. "Ana may have cancer."

Having donated samples of various bodily fluids and answers to yet more questions, Ana is asked to change into one of those "sexy" hospital gowns. Eyeing the flimsy locker in the change room, she decides to instead trust Ryan with her brand new jewelry. Finally ready, and looking at the imposing MRI machine, she's asked the same questions again, and answers them as if it doesn't piss her off. When they get to the question about music, she hands over her iPod with the "Missing him" playlist chosen and says, "Thank you."

With the technician apparently satisfied, Ana is helped onto the narrow table and given final instructions; mainly amounting to, "Relax and keep still." Bulky headphones are put over her ears, and then she's alone, with nothing to look at but the inside of a narrow, plastic tunnel. Soon, the strains of Bach appear to fill the small room. Only seconds later, the music is replaced by the tech's voice. "How are you feeling, Mrs. Grey?"

"Scared, but okay."

"Then you'll be happy to know that you're completely normal. If you're ready, we'll begin."

"I'm ready."

The music is again playing as the loud percussions that Ana had been warned about reach her partly shielded ears. Not very disturbed by everything that's happening, except for a possibly life-threatening diagnosis after enduring all these impositions, her current biggest concern is that the sounds of the machine don't match the beat. Then they suddenly stop, signifying the end of the first run, and Christian's voice asks, "Missing me, baby?"

Somehow managing to keep from running to him, she sobs her relief and teases, "I never said that playlist was about you."

"Always with the smart mouth. They say I can talk to you, or you can listen to the music. Either way, you need to keep quiet and still."

As if there was ever any doubt, Ana says, "You, please."

So Christian calmly relates the details of his day, from the moment he left her side this morning. The machine finally stops humming and the tech says, "Just hang tight while I check everything, Mrs. Grey."

"Is there a problem?"

"No, ma'am. Just making sure that you don't have to go through this again."

"Thank you. Can my husband come in here?"

The sound of the door opening is answer enough and Christian is holding her hand, saying, "Nice outfit."

"Thanks. It's new." Nervously biting her lip, she then asks, "You okay?"

After a moment, she feels his warm lips on the back of her hand and his voice is heavy with emotion when he says, "You're incredible. I'm not the one with my head in a machine. I'm fine; just worried about you."

It's all the truth they need when Ana says, "I'm okay now you're here."

The sound of the door opening this time signals her freedom, and the technician waits until Ana is on her feet before saying to them both, "Your doctor will let you know the results."

Ana feels so proud of Christian when every inch of him silently expresses outrage at having to wait, but he merely says, "Thank you."

On their way, hand in hand, to the changing area, Ana says, "I'm surprised you didn't insist on knowing the results right now."

With a shrug, Christian reveals, "They're legally bound to refuse, because they're not qualified to make a diagnosis. They would only have called security if I insisted, and you don't need that sort of drama. You sure that you're okay? Can I get you anything?"

"Uh, Ryan has my jewelry; the aquamarine." Then smiling at the memory of waking to his gift, Ana says, "That was so sweet, thank you. Every time I got worried today, I just touched the pendant and it made me feel better."

His face lighting with a boyish grin, Christian says, "Good. I'm glad it helped. I felt awful leaving you this morning. But you need sleep, now more than ever. Did you eat lunch?"

"No, I'm sorry. It was too early when I left the office, and I've been shunted from one medical professional to the next since then."

Kissing her forehead, Christian says, "Don't be sorry. We'll get something while we wait for the results. Go, get changed. What room are you?"

"Two. Thank you." He's almost out of sight when Ana asks, "Are you dosed?"

Smiling, as if he hasn't always hated drugs, Christian says, "To the gills, baby. Why? Do I seem different?"

"Other than you're not climbing the walls with worry? You…I'm in a hospital gown."

Approaching and taking her in his arms, threatening the integrity of her thin, cotton gown with an idle caress, his teasing fingertips sending jolts of pleasure up and down her spine, he smilingly says, "Yes, you are." Then holding her close enough to leave no doubt of his arousal, Christian murmurs, "No pill strong enough to kill my desire for you, Mrs. Grey. But even that is somewhat muted. So we'll have no trouble sticking to the plan."

For so many reasons, desperate to just lose herself in him, Ana says, "Surely circumstances have changed?"

With a grin, Christian says, "I knew you couldn't last the distance." Again kissing only her forehead, he turns her and, with a pat on her almost visible butt, instructs, "Get changed. I'll be right back."

Silently cursing John Flynn's efficiency, even as she acknowledges that the medication means Christian is coping very well with potentially disastrous news. Ana is almost ready when a knock on the door announces Christian, who reveals her jewelry in his palm and asks, "May I?"

Turning and holding her hair up out of the way, Ana wills her legs to do their job as Christian enters the cubicle and reaches around to replace the necklace, never once touching her skin, even when he fastens the clasp. Then putting his lips beside her ear, he whispers, "Distraction."

Biting her lip to stifle a moan, Ana leans back against him and breathes, "Bastard."

When Christian then slides his arms around to rest on her belly, even as he promises "Your bastard," she feels the difference in his embrace; he's including their baby in the gesture. It's too much for her, and she's silently weeping when he senses the change in her mood and turns her to face him, begging, "Please, baby, tell me what to do."

Pressing her face into his chest, she haltingly mumbles, "No. It's fine. You're doing it. That's the problem. You're perfect."

Christian laughs, the relaxed sound further soothing her shattered nerves, and says, "I'm not sure even you've accused me of that before. But I'm glad that you think so." Then gently pushing her back just a little, he wipes the moisture from her cheeks with his thumbs and cradles her face as he says, "I'm claiming today's kiss now."

Beaming her permission, Ana says, "Actually, I owe you two today."

Mirroring her delighted smile, Christian says "Even better," before tenderly reaffirming his love for her. Closing her eyes and giving herself up to the feelings this ancient gesture stirs within her, Ana has no idea how much time has passed when Christian finally and reluctantly drags his lips from hers to huskily suggest, "Time for lunch. There's a decent café within walking distance."

"But Colin…?"

"Will call us. Trust me, I was raised by a doctor; these things always take ages. We can eat, chat, flirt and pretend that nothing bad could ever happen to us."

Wondering how she can feel okay, just because he's here, Ana smiles and again says, "Perfect."

Author's note: Not sure I like Calm Christian, but I understand the necessity. Away from home (and internet) this weekend, so there might be a wait for the next installment. Thanks, for reading.