Saturday, April 2nd

Pregnant.

An adjective meaning to contain a developing embryo, fetus, or unborn offspring within the body (Merriam Webster).

Gestate.

A verb meaning to carry in the uterus during pregnancy (Merriam Webster).

Either way she looked at it, both two syllable words described her current state. She knew what they meant. She had looked them up in a dictionary when she was seven. Her mother had been pregnant and known it for the grand space of two weeks before miscarrying. Her only hope for a little brother or sister slipping away.

Pregnant.

Gestating.

Both were enough to make her sink to the edge of the tub in shock and fear. It shouldn't have come as either; they had talked about it in February. That cold Saturday morning between his pre-proposal and her real proposal. They'd both agreed that they wanted a child. Together. And at the time, she'd thought that now would be good. Had agreed to his somewhat surprising enthusiasm on the subject.

But now that it was here; now that the little white stick had turned blue; she wasn't sure this was what she wanted now. It wasn't only the stick in her hand that had turned blue. All four in the box were showing the same thing. Four different tests taken on four different mornings.

They were pregnant.

Inside of her a life was growing. A life that was half her and half Harry. A life that Harry would want more than anything in the world. A life she was scared of. A life that wouldn't disappear if she closed her eyes.

God what was she going to do.

In the starkness of really being pregnant, she wasn't sure it was the greatest of ideas. They'd only been together four months. Living together six. They were still getting accustom to the other being in their life. There were moments; not many granted but moments none the less; that she would be out doing some shopping and would forget that they were a couple. She'd look down at her list and wonder exactly why she was picking up Fig Rolls when she couldn't stand them.

And then she'd remember.

Harry liked them in the evening while he was watching the telly.

Or she'd stop off somewhere on the way home from work. One of those nights when they didn't travel together. And completely forget that there would be someone wondering where she was. Would forget until he rang to see if she'd an appointment he'd forgotten about.

Never mind the simple process of living together. There were moments still where one would do something that drove the other batty. She'd leave her shoes next to the bench in the hall. He'd wake up at the crack of dawn and pitter patter around the house. She'd forget to use a coaster in the sitting room. He'd follow behind her cleaning up something she had every intention of getting later. She'd leave her bra hanging on the bathroom door. He'd forget to put the loo seat down.

How could they even be close to ready to bring another life into this world. To be ready to be parents? They were intelligent adults. They should have known better than to rush this. There would be time to have a baby later. Once they settled into a routine. After they were married. After they were together at least a year.

Not after four months.

But what could she do?

In the same sense that she knew it was too early she knew she could never have an abortion. Couldn't kill something they had created together. Something that; as cliché as it was; was an expression of their love. Not only would she never forgive herself but it would destroy Harry. They would be over. He'd never forgive her. Not if her life wasn't directly at risk.

She couldn't handle the thought though.

Sometime in the next nine months she was going to be responsible for caring for another human being. An infant. One fully dependant on her not to forget to buy it nappies or feed it in the middle of the night when all she wanted to do was sleep. One who would need her to remember to bring it home after stopping into the book shop. She couldn't do this.

That's how Harry found her some time later. Sitting on the edge of the tub, little white stick in hand as she starred into space; a look of something he couldn't describe on her face. He knew what that little stick was. Had seen enough of them over the years while he was married to Jane or a partner thought the impossible had happened and they'd gotten pregnant despite the use of protection.

But he'd never seen the look on her face on any of them. Which meant it was negative. Not that he was surprised. Getting pregnant took time. He didn't care what anyone said. Jane and him had been married for three years; sleeping together for six; before she'd finally gotten pregnant with Catherine. It'd been another two years after Catherine's birth before she'd fallen pregnant with Graham. To expect that Ruth would get pregnant this soon was preposterous. No matter how much he might hope for it.

He was surprised in himself. After his failed marriage and the disaster he'd made with his first two children, he never wanted more children. Had dreaded those few times that a partner had thought she might be pregnant. Each negative had brought him a great sense of relief. But then he'd fallen in love with Ruth. And everything changed.

With her he didn't feel like the disappointment Jane had made him feel like. Ruth made him feel valued; loved. She didn't accuse him of having an affair on the nights a meeting ran late or toss another woman in his path when she needed her space. She wasn't off having an affair of her own; seeking love that she was missing from him. With her, he felt like he had a chance at raising a child; no - children; without causing them to resent him. She'd be with him through each step; reducing the chance that he'd screw up more lives.

Right now though, this was about Ruth. And making sure she was alright with another negative result. Crossing the room, he sat down next to her and wrapped his arm around her. Feeling her jump at his touch, he watched as she realized what was in her hand and tried to shove it behind her back. Pressing his lips against her head, he held her close.

"It's okay. You don't have to hide it. I know what it said."

Shaking slightly, she avoided looking at him and asked quietly "You do?".

"Your face gave it away. It's okay that we're not pregnant. We'll keep trying and sometime in the future the result will be different. There's no rush; we have a lifetime together."

Looking down again at the stick in her hand, she didn't know what to say. He thought it was negative. He thought it was negative because of the look on her face. How would he take it then when she told him it was positive?

Sensing the need to remove her from the present situation, he reached a hand out and tried to remove the test from her grip.

Feeling him start to pull the test away, Ruth panicked and gripped the test tighter, pulling it to her chest.

"Ruth give me the test. I'm just going to toss it in the waste basket."

"No."

"Ruth it's alright. There will be other chances." Sliding his hand over hers, he tried to pry her fingers open.

"I'm pregnant."

Those two words stopped him. Surely he had misheard her. Reaching for the test, he managed to pull it free. Lifting it in front of his eyes, he looked at it. Saw the blue plus sign. And smiled.

They were pregnant.

Setting the test on the vanity, he stood. Turning back to her, he reached a hand down and pulled her to her feet. Still grinning, he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close, lifting her from the floor. And spinning her around in the confines of the bathroom.

"We're pregnant."

The smile was evident in his voice and she felt even worse. God. He was so happy. Why couldn't she be happy? Why did she have this feeling of fear and dread filling her?

As if sensing something was amiss, Harry set her on her feet and pulled back slightly. Seeing the same look as earlier on her face, he frowned.

"You're not happy."

Swallowing, she slowly shook her head no.

"You don't want this baby?"

"I don't know what I am or what I want." she said softly, fingers digging into his forearms as she felt him stepping away from her. "Harry..."

"I thought you wanted this. Him or her. A baby with me."

"I thought I did."

"But now you don't."

"I didn't say that."

Prying her fingers from his arms, he stepped back, a weight settling over his chest. "You did."

"I said I don't know what I am."

"And you also said you thought you wanted this when I said I you wanted this."

"Harry it's too soon."

The weight settling over his chest gave way to the feeling of his heart breaking a little. This moment; one that should have been joyous; was turning into a pit of despair. She didn't want to have his child. For the first time in over twenty years, he'd been filled with a feeling of elation at the prospect of being a father again. And she'd crushed it.

"Why is it always too soon for you? Too soon to be living together. Too soon to tell anyone we're seeing each other. Too soon to get engaged. Too soon to get married. Now it's too soon to have this baby that's apparently already growing inside of you. If you're that embarrassed of me, why the hell are you still here?"

"What? Why ever would you think that?"

"Unlike you, I'm not naive Ruth. I love you. I really do. But I can't keep having you take swipes at me. My heart can't take it."

Taking a step closer, she reached out for him. "I'm not taking swipes at you. I love you."

"I'm not sure that you do." Stepping away from her, he didn't know where to turn or what to do. The feeling settling over his heart was worse than the feeling of Jane packing up and leaving with the kids. Back to her, he looked into their room.

"You need to leave. Or I need to leave. I don't know. I just...can't look at you right now."

Biting back a sob, she reached out for him. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be happy. Hand settling onto his shoulder, she felt him shrug it off and move away.

"Don't touch me. Just...don't touch me." Turning towards the door, he paused. "But know this. If you kill this life we created because it's "too soon" for it to happen, I won't forgive you."

"Harry please."

Without saying a word, he left the room and slammed the door shut behind him. Sinking to her knees, she succumb to the sobs overwhelming her and cried. In the distance she heard a door slam. Lying on her side on the cold tile, she wrapped her arms around herself and cried.

Bag hanging off her shoulder, Ruth hugged her coat around her and knocked on the door. Please be home, she thought to herself as she knocked again. Time had passed slowly as she laid on those cold bathroom tiles crying. Had passed slowly as she waited for Harry to come back. But he didn't. For five hours she had waited for him to come home. First on the bathroom floor and then in the sitting room. But he never did.

Then she had tried calling him both from the house line and her mobile. But they'd gone unanswered. Ring after ring she had hoped he'd pick up. He never did. Finally her calls started going to voicemail on the first ring.

That's how she knew. Knew that as long as she was still there, he wouldn't return to his house. Not right now when things were so disarrayed between them. Not when he didn't want to see or talk to her.

So she had let Scarlett out in the back garden while she'd packed a bag. Fed the two animals before pulling on her coat and making her way outside. Looking up and down the street she hoped to glimpse of his car. Nothing. Keys in hand, she had crossed the drive slowly and climbed into her hatchback. Setting her bag on the passenger seat, she had drive round aimlessly for an hour, wondering where to go.

Tossed between finding a hotel and going to work, she had instead wound up parked in front of Danny's flat. She'd sat there in the street for three-quarters of an hour before the setting sun and lowering temperatures had forced her to seek shelter. That's how she had come to be on his front stoop. Praying that he was home.

Her prayer was soon answered as Danny opened the door in sweat pants and a vest. Seeing his friend standing at his door, tear stains running down her face, he looked over her shoulder expecting the worst. Not seeing anything he reached a hand out and pulled her inside.

"Ruth?"

With a sob, she fell against his chest and cried.

Monday, April 11th

Fingers clutching the gown closed, Ruth sat in the sterile room. Alone. For nine days she had tried to talk to Harry; tried to get him to listen; but he rebuked her at every turn. At work he was cold but professional; flat out telling her early the previous Monday morning that while they might have to work together, he would prefer if she went to Adam for the foreseeable future with all things work related. When she'd started to bring up the personal, he'd turned his head to his desk and asked her to leave. Not wanting to bring their fight to the Grid, she had quietly left his office with the hope that things would get better.

It hadn't.

Danny was being a good friend; letting her stay in Zoe's old room. He'd also nipped round to Harry's house to pick up more of her clothing when it became apparent that Harry wasn't going to relent any time soon.

Ruth was lost. The fear of impending motherhood had nothing on the despair of losing Harry. Getting up in the morning was damned near impossible. Making it through the day even harder. And trying not to cry herself to sleep at night wasn't happening. He was gone; at least for now; and she was clueless on how to make it better. This afternoon was her first appointment with the doctor. God, how he could think she'd consider even for a second getting rid of their child killed her. With all hope lost of getting through to him, she'd sent him an e-mail Friday afternoon telling him of her appointment today.

She'd received no response from him.

Adam had come over before leaving and said the time was approved then asked if she wanted him to go with her. She'd almost said yes out of fear of going alone. But the thought that anyone but Harry experiencing these appointments with her had her saying no.

A small part of her had hoped that maybe he'd think about it over the weekend and come with her. Or at least meet her here. But he hadn't been in all morning. Something about a meeting with Juliet over departmental spending. When the clock had neared two and he had yet to return, she had half heartedly pulled on her coat and made her way to the hospital.

As the door opened Ruth was pulled from her thoughts. Smiling weakly at the doctor, she pulled the gown tighter.

"Ms. Evershed? I'm Doctor Whovian. How are you today?"

"Alright."

Setting onto the rolling stool, the doctor smiled, settling next to the table. "By your chart I see that you think you might be pregnant."

"Ye...Yes. I took four different tests and they all came out positive."

"I think there's a good chance your pregnant than. I'll want to do some blood work to make sure and run some other tests. How far along do you think you are?"

"I don't know. At least a month."

"Do you remember when your last menses was?"

Thinking back Ruth was somewhat shocked to realize she hadn't had her period since the end of January. With everything going on she hadn't thought about the fact that she was late.

"From the look on your face I'm guessing it was awhile ago."

"January 21st."

Writing down the date the doctor nodded. "And is it normal for you to be irregular?"

"No. I'm usually pretty regular even when under a lot of stress. But so much was happening that I didn't think about it. I didn't even suspect I might be pregnant until I couldn't get over the tiredness from my cold last month."

Sitting back, the doctor smiled. "So it's possible that you're closer to two months instead of one?"

"Yes." Ruth answered weakly, her thoughts going to how bad of a mother would she be that she didn't even know she was pregnant.

Sensing her discomfort, the doctor laid a reassuring hand on her arm. "It's alright. Not every woman knows they're pregnant right away; especially if you're not planning it. By looking over your chart you're not on any prescription medications that we would need to worry about causing any harm to the fetus and as long as you've not been binge drinking every night or partaking in the use of illicit substances, everything should be alright."

Rolling back, the doctor stood and crossed the room. "I am going to do an ultrasound to see if we can come up with an approximate age of the fetus as well as a due date."

Nodding, Ruth watched as the doctor moved the ultrasound machine over. Smiling at her, the doctor picked up a tube of gel and told her it'd be cold before lifting her down and squeezing it onto her stomach. Gasping at the coldness, Ruth held still as the doctor took the wand and moved it over her uterus.

Seeing a picture flicker on the screen, Ruth watched as the image changed with each stroke of the wand. Unsure of what she was looking at she turned to the doctor as the wand stopped moving. Seeing a frown, she froze as fear gripped her. As scared as she was about being a mother and it being too soon, she didn't want something to happen to the baby.

"Doctor what's wrong?"

"Hold on a moment."

Moving the wand slowly across her lower abdomen, the doctor watched the screen closely. Pushing a bit harder, the doctor looked at the screen before turning her attention back to Ruth.

"What is it?" Ruth asked again, fingers gripping the side of the bed in fear.

"It's nothing to worry about. I promise. I just wanted to be sure."

"Sure of what?"

"Is there a history of twins in your family or the father's?"

"Twins?"

Nodding the doctor turned her attention back to the screen. Pressing some buttons, she split the image into two and showed Ruth the pictures she had taken. Pointing at a cluster shaped like a peanut on each image, she continued, "Twins. Both look to be about seven weeks old at this point so I'd put conception somewhere around the 17th of February. Meaning you're due mid-November."

"Twins?" Ruth asked again, her attention drawn to the screen. As if one baby wasn't enough to scare her silly; now there was two. God. Harry had been effective in knocking her up well and good. Watching the screen, she felt her heart constrict that he was missing the first picture of their baby.

Correction.

Babies.

Swallowing Ruth turned back to the doctor.

"Is everything okay with them?"

Pressing another button, the ultrasound switched back to real time. Watching for a moment, the doctor pointed at the screen.

"See this little flickering motion here," pausing a moment, she drew a box around it before continuing onto the other peanut cluster, "and here. Those are the heartbeats. While it's still too early to see any deformities, it does bode well that we're seeing both heartbeats on ultrasound. It is still a bit too early to try and hear anything yet. We'll know more when the results of the lab work come in."

Eyes still watching the screen in disbelief, Ruth nodded. "How long does that normally take?"

"A day or two. We should know on Wednesday how everything is."

"What do I need to do?"

"Nothing. We'll call you as soon as the results are in." Turning back to the screen, the doctor printed out pictures of both babies. "As for any restrictions I don't see the need for any other than the normal diet and such. If you happen to feel any discomfort or notice any spotting, I do want you to either call or come to the hospital immediately."

"Alright."

"And seeing as you're having twins, I'd like to see you in three weeks to see how everything is progressing and make sure everything is still going along alright."

"Okay."

Smiling the doctor offered her hand to Ruth. "It was a pleasure to meet you Ms. Evershed. I'll leave you alone to get cleaned up."

Watching as the doctor left the room, Ruth watched the frozen image on the screen another moment before moving. Crossing to her bag she pulled out her phone and sent a text message to Harry; hoping he'd answer.

Saw doctor. Need to talk to you.

Placing her phone on the table, she shed the gown and was pulling on her clothes as the phone chirped. Picking it up she quickly scrolled to her inbox.

Are you still pregnant?

Yes.

For how long?

Sensing his continued anger, she typed back another message; hoping just maybe it would open the path to communication.

About seven more months.

Moving to the screen she lined up the image of the ultrasound; making sure to capture the words Fetus 1 and Fetus 2 in the picture. Not waiting for a response, she attached the image to another text and sent it to him.

AN: Please don't kill me. I did warn that April would bring a lot of sadness and thus it has so far though with a little twist of happiness too. And I will take this moment to say that it's only going to get worse. Not being a completely heartless person, I did continue further than I had planned with this chapter; not ending it when she'd arrived on Danny's stoop and thus not being entirely happy with how the final part wrote itself. But I couldn't leave it as it was. I also couldn't resist a little humour with the Doctor's name. That said - please review and let me know what you think; good or bad.