CHAPTER SONG: "Heal Me" by Lady Gaga

March 10th, 1918

In a modestly built family house in the peaceful village of Surrey, a young American woman awoke in the spare bedroom, white morning light streaming through the curtains obstructing the windows.

The colorfully patterned worn quilt tangled around her legs from her tossing and turning while sleeping the night before.

As though on instinct, she reached over to the other side of the twin bed to find it disappointingly empty.

Her absent William…

And yet, she could still feel his nearby presence, hear his muffled voice downstairs…

Emmanuelle Hunterson sat up, running her fingers through her disheveled curls, blinking away the sleep from her eyes as she yawned aloud. As she brought her hands down to her lap, the sparkling glint from her scarred hand caught her eye and a girlish enchanted smile formed on her chapped lips…

The diamond-heart engagement ring on her finger greeted her as it did every morning since her corporal proposed to her a month ago…

At first, the ring itself had been slightly loose on her small finger, but the metallic circle was adjusted in its circumference to remain secure on her hand and not slip off.

She would have never forgiven herself if she ended up losing the ring that had once belonged to Will's late mother…

In mere weeks, she and Lance Corporal William Schofield were to be married…

April 7th…

A sudden knot of nausea twisted in her gut as she realized that her period had still not started at its usual time during the first week of the month.

She and Will had that wonderful night on her birthday… united in body and heart, not yet by law.

And today, she had to be sure…

She was more than ready to start a new life with her soldier… just eight more months until this godforsaken war was over.

After Will never had to wear that damned uniform of his again and love each other where they both belonged after everything endured to get to this point…

How she hoped her lack of a usual menstrual cycle was only pre-wedding jitters.

Emmy couldn't stop her hands shaking as she changed out of her cotton ivory nightdress and pinned up her chaotic curls in place.

.

.

After she was fully dressed, Emmy went downstairs to the living parlor, listening to the voices of her eventual new family as she saw her soldier come into view, her long-legged Englishman immediately meeting her eyes with a wearied yet adoring gaze.

Her fiancé…

She was halfway down the stairs as he held out his hand toward her, their fingers interlocking in a gentle hold. A beaming smile glowed on her face as she quickly strode down those final steps and Will gathered her within his arms.

He caught the green glitter of the emerald bracelet on her wrist as she flung her arms around his neck, allowing him to lift her off the final step and just hold her up against him several inches off the ground, her fingers curling at his nape, feeling the fine velvet of his cropped hair.

"Good morning, my love." His soft voice whispered in her ear, his gentle lips brushing her cheek as he slowly lowered her to stand on the floor. Will kept his arms around her, their mouths mutually meeting in a brief but tender kiss, their noses brushing as he crooned to her. "You look beautiful, more so than yesterday."

"Shut up…" She smirked in a flustered way, her cheeks coloring scarlet in a hot-blooded blush. "You say that every day."

Her hand reached up to touch her thumb to his lips, as though to teasingly silence him; only for Will to sensuously nibble the tip of the small digit attached to her hand. Emmy's heart raced with a euphoric acceleration at how much his playful side had been shown to her in the many weeks since she had awoken from her coma.

Since his miraculous kiss of truest love to her lips had revived her from near death…

From the first day of her return to the Edwardian era, Will and Emmy nearly spent every moment they possibly could together.

Will took ahold of her raised hand and kissed her fragile fingertips, his own thumb caressing her knuckles. "Am I not permitted to still court you even though we're engaged?"

"Oh, we're way past the courting, Corporal Schofield…" Her voice was husky as a shiver racked up her spine as she turned around so that her back was against his chest. "I've missed you being in my room lately."

He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the floral scent of her tresses, sighing deeply as his arms folded around her, the tips of his fingers ticking the skin of her collarbone. "I know, my Emmy. I yearn for your body against mine every night, your sweet taste on my tongue."

His fingers enticingly made their way up the column of her throat as she suppressed a pleasured moan, feeling his touch make its way underneath her chin and along her jaw-line.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear, quiet yet longing in tone. "That night we had in London at the hotel was beyond unforgettable… but what I want to do before we experience that again is to marry you first."

His lips kissed the shell of her ear, then the side of her neck, as her hands gently removed his own from her collarbone down over her bosom, past her breasts and to rest on her abdomen. Will leaned his head down so their cheeks were touching.

Emmy took initiative, turning around once more in his arms to carefully push him against the wall near the stairs. Her fingers played with the buttons of his woolen tunic, looking up into his blue eyes of ocean mist shining with a worried curiosity at her.

Pushing down a wave of insecurity down at the pit of her stomach, she whispered in nearly timid pitch with her voice. "If you had to choose, would you sleep with the prettiest girl in the world or marry me?"

Will raised his brow in the quizzical British way that he did, one of his idiosyncrasies she had come to love. And to her immense relief, he answered in only one second. "That's a trick question, beloved. You're the most beautiful woman to walk this earth in all the hundred years between my era and yours… the only woman I would give all of myself to, in marriage and intimacy."

His devoted look to her made her blink back tears of reassurance as he raised his hand again and stroked her blossom cheek, feeling her exuberant, lively warmth.

"Emmy, where is this coming from? Are you nervous… getting cold feet?" Will asked her with an ever patient understanding to his voice, not one iota of his words demanding to know what she was thinking that very moment. "You don't look very well, my love. Are you ill?"

"No… I'm fine. Just… all my thoughts bunch up together when I'm alone. And honestly… a year ago, I could never see myself getting married… taking such a big step. In my era… marriage isn't held up as sacredly; even my own parents didn't keep up theirs. I guess it's made me cynical… you have to remember I'm a 2020 woman in 1918. I won't exactly be a proper lady." She smiled bitterly with a chuckle as she laid her head against his pectoral, listening to his strong heartbeat.

His elongated, tapered fingers delicately petted through her hair, careful not to undo her plait coiled at the back of her head as he spoke once more to her. "And that's what makes you my Emmy. Why I'm ever tempted to take you to the church right now and marry you right now today. Every moment that passes, I tire of not being wed to Emmanuelle Julia Hunterson of 2020 America."

She grinned brightly up at him, standing on her tiptoes to place her own kiss on the side of his throat, above his jugular vein as his Adam's apple bobbed in aroused excitement. Emmy purred as she nuzzled his neck, his own responsive growl vibrating through both of their bodies, knowing she could bring out the primal side of him that took her to bed that night at the London hotel.

The aroma of cooking breakfast wafted through the room as her stomach began to rumble in hunger.

And the pattering of tiny children's feet nearby… Cecelia and Giselle coming into the house to start their morning before school…

This was a routine Emmy could definitely get used to as Will took her hand, running his thumb along her bejeweled scarred finger as they walked side by side in sync to the dining room.

And that's when it truly struck Emmy for the first time. In a month, she would gain not only a husband, but a sister and two adorable nieces.

She would have a real, true family who treasured her…

.

.

"Emmy, are you sure… that you think…?" Molly walked through the street alongside Emmy, toward Dr. Wannop's facility. Both women decided to stop on their way taking the girls to school, leaving Will behind at the house.

The guilt spread through Emmy's veins at keeping this concern from Will, but she was glad to have Molly as a confidante with her more feminine ordeals.

They both spoke in hushed voice to avoid looks from passersby.

"Well, it's been a month since me and Will… you know…" Emmy trailed off, knowing Molly would deduce what she was talking about. "And I've never been consistent to the day with my menstrual cycle. But… I just wanna be sure before I say anything to him."

"Well, besides your monthly, have you been nauseous? You had barely touched your breakfast this morning." Molly's voice held a sisterly, almost maternal gentleness that assured her that whatever happened, the two of them would stand to support each other.

"I… I've felt dizzy some mornings, but it passes quick. And I haven't been throwing up or anything. Maybe I'm just nervous about the wedding." Emmy looped her arm through Molly's, keeping hold of her for physical and emotional companionship. "But… what if I actually am pregnant now, Molly?"

They stopped in front of the doctor's office structure, Emmy's legs buckling underneath her dress skirt. A lump formed in her throat, and tears came again to her eyes.

Molly grasped onto her shoulders, steadying Emmy whose face paled into a near ashen white pallor, her steel-like gaze keeping the younger woman balanced. "Emmanuelle, listen to me. Whatever your diagnosis is, if you're carrying Will's child, I swear we will do everything possible to help you. We won't cast you out nor will we abandon you. My brother loves you more than anything in this world. My daughters adore you and want to be like you… and you're the precious sister I wanted but never had growing up. You're part of our family and we'll make sure you're taken care of."

The elder Schofield woman had her own tears flowing down her face as Emmy reluctantly nodded her head, wiping her cheeks and nose with her handkerchief. The brunette American girl drew the slightly taller Englishwoman into her arms, resting her chin on Molly's shoulder, the strength of their sisterhood growing with every word and gesture.

Molly herself sniffled as she rubbed Emmy's back, feeling the worried stares of various people passing them, but she didn't care. All that mattered was soothing the younger girl's torment and anxiety.

Both women slightly backed away, still holding onto each other as Molly cleaned her face with her own kerchief and glanced at one another in a silent communicative stare, reassuring one another that no matter what happened, Emmy wouldn't face it alone.

To keep her hands from further trembling, Emmy clasped her hands together as the two ladies walked into the clinic, her fingertips stroking the emerald jewel of the bracelet decorating her wrist, the same hand which wore her engagement ring.

A gift from her best friend who loved her enough to voluntarily walk her down the aisle to marry Will…

.

.

Later that evening, Molly put the girls up to bed earlier than normal, knowing that Will and Emmy needed to have their important conversation about today. To Cici and Elle's disappointment, that meant no bedtime story from their Aunt Emmy tonight, but she promised to make it up to them tomorrow, with it being the weekend.

After the couple hugged Molly and kissed the small children goodnight, they were alone in the parlor, the growing puppy Bucky following up the stairs to sleep in the girls' room.

Will had relegated himself with still sleeping on the chaise that was barely long enough to fit his wiry and tall build since their night together in London… wanting to wait for more until the wedding night without the focus of the bride being more sexually experienced and the groom being not so much…

They sat alone on the chaise, their only source of golden light from the nearby lamp, their hands locked together.

Will waited for her to begin speaking, refraining from being irritated or restless for an explanation as he sensed her hesitating. To coax her further, he lifted her hand not bearing the ring to his lips and reverently kissed her knuckles.

And Emmy opened her mouth to talk, taking his larger hand within both of hers and tracing along the veins under his calloused skin with her fingertips.

"I… I went to Dr. Wannop's office after dropping off the girls at school. Molly took me there for support." Emmy was selective in choosing her words, feeling Will's gaze on her the whole time, loving and protective without overwhelming her.

"Why did you go to the doctor, my love? Have you been not feeling well?" He asked, remembering asking her the same question that morning and her denial of being sick.

"I… I'd not been having my… monthly in time this past week. And I've been feeling disoriented and moody." Emmy met his eyes, basking in his compassion and affection for her. "Since that night we had together in London."

Will slowly stood from the chaise and knelt before her upon the carpet, grasping both of her hands in a tight but still fragile grip. "Emmanuelle… are you…?"

His voice choked as he spoke those three words, unable to finish as his heart nearly ceased beating in his ribcage. A million different emotions swirling in his mind…

The cold hard diamond of her ring cut into his skin as she opened her pink lips to answer him at last.

"Dr. Wannop examined me and confirmed the result. And a few hours after we left, my monthly started… so I'm not pregnant." She leaned forward to stroke her fingers comfortingly through his wavy brown hair and he bowed his head down to rest on her lap, a rumbling breath of relief exhaling onto her skirt.

"Oh, Emmy… I was afraid that…" Will gulped back his words, resting his hands on her thighs and she continued stroking his hair.

"I didn't want to… but we could have." She inhaled as he rose his head up to look at her, a frown forming on his lips. "And you know how I love Cici and Elle."

"Emmy… one day, do you want to have children of our own?" Will felt completely stupid for not asking her this earlier, but he didn't want to be so blunt about such a sensitive subject to her. "Can you imagine just a little? Maybe a girl for Cici and Elle to play with… she'd have your beautiful eyes and your unbreakable courage."

She wanted so badly to picture such an idyllic image… starting a real family with the man she loved more than anything. Will sitting by a rocking bassinet as he softly sang a lullaby or recited a nursery rhyme to their newborn baby as she watched from their marital bed.

Emmy remembered one he had serenaded to Cici and Elle one night when they had been very hyper and unable to settle down after hearing the tale of The Little Mermaid from their aunt's perspective.

They went to sea in a sieve, they did

In a sieve, they went to sea…

She bent down to kiss her hero, in a wordless gesture to signal for him that all would be well. The kiss was passionate and consuming in their mutual amour for one another, with Emmy only pausing to pull away as another thought came to her head with the subject of offspring.

"When we have our children one day… two, three, four or however many… Molly can be godmother. And Joe can be godfather, right?" Emmy ran the tip of her finger down the length of his sculpted nose, seeing his lips smile a humored grin as his fingers reached at the back of her head to untangle her plaited braid of her hair so the glorious waterfall of chocolate loosened down her back and shoulders.

"Of course, my darling. I would trust no other two people in our lives to care for our children in the future." He leaned over to kiss her forehead, just stopping before Emmy's features contorted into a discomforted grimace. Immediately, his humored attitude turned into that of worry as he sat once again at her side on the chaise. "Emmy, what's wrong? What is it?"

He tucked her hair away from her face as she saw her hand clutch onto her stomach. "It's just my damn cramps… I might be staying in bed for most of tomorrow, though I'm supposed to go with Molly to get fitted for my wedding dress."

"What can I do to make your pain go away, sweetheart?" Will asked, even though he was nearly clueless as to what she might need to alleviate the internal torture her abdomen was enduring.

"There's stuff in my room we got from the pharmacy, water bottles. But what I really want right now is a hot steaming bath." She sighed in a near dramatic fashion and Will watched with silent amusement, seeing her pretending to swoon like a novel heroine on a fainting couch.

He folded his arms as he stood up to his full height, his shadow darkening her view as she looked up at him, knowing what he was about to do. She spread out her arms as though to give him consent, exasperatingly rolling her eyes despite her heart brimming with gratitude. "Go ahead; I won't stop you."

"Then it's settled." Will retorted half-jokingly as he helped Emmy to stand on her feet for a few seconds before sweeping her up into his arms, her body impulsively leaning its weight against his chest and her arms around his neck. "I'll prepare the water whilst you undress."

Will carried her steadfastly toward the stairs and ascended up each step trying to keep quiet as possible with the creaks of the aging wood beneath his boots. Her fingers stroked his smooth chin adoringly. "Are you sure you don't want to be the one taking my clothes off?"

"Emmy… don't give me any ideas." He good-naturedly scolded her, his lips kissing her forehead. "There are things I want to save for our wedding night."

"In my era, men are taught to see this sort of thing as disgusting. They won't even want to touch a woman if they knew she was on her period, they'd just be grossed out, but it's part of our nature." Emmy felt his hands grip slightly tighter underneath her back and knees as he cradled her in his arms with little to no effort, stepping onto the top stair.

"You need not ever be ashamed, my angel. I may not understand completely, but I want to keep it from ailing you further." His voice was a quiet murmur in her ear as he carried Emmy into her room. "One of our vows at the altar is in sickness and health, after all."

And Will swore to himself as he left her in privacy to disrobe and he readied the bathwater in the washroom that he would nurture her with as much care as she needed, and pray for the fortitude he would need to be a worthy husband for this wonderful woman who had showed him so much beauty and truth in the world with her love.

To be her defender and provider…

To give Emmanuelle the life she desired and deserved.