Mr Rickman [Sequel to Mr Americano] - An ALAN RICKMAN fanfic

Chapter 23 - The Four of Us

Hello! I have a new update for you. Not quite so long as my usual, but that's because of the way I'm planning the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it! Plenty of Alan/baby mush! 

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A car-wash of nerves has been bubbling inside of me the entire journey on the way to the hospital. Today should be a happy, monumentous occasion - the day of the first baby scan, but deep down inside there is that little part of me that is inhabited by darkness, despite my constant determination to push any such thoughts out of my mind. Last time I set foot here my sister who lay with a bullet wound and a punctured lung took her last breath. I, myself lay beaten, wired up to a monitor, and Ellie lay bruised in the children's ward, traumatised.

Alan, who towers my right side, protectively wraps an arm round my waist as we bypass patients and visitors. I feel as if everyone is looking at me, or us. Perhaps they are. They're catching sight of my baby bump and looking at Alan as if I'm too young to be carrying his child, or thinking he is too old to be a father.

"I don't like all these people here."

"Darling, it's a hospital. They're just going about their business."

"I feel as if they're judging us."

"Nothing of the sort."

I take a conscious breath.

"Put it out of your mind. We're here for the baby."

He gives my side a squeeze as we walk on through the swishing doors and timely into our private appointment booked in for an Ultrasound. The friendly looking woman in blue who greets us confirms my earlier assumption - that nerves are outwardly jittering all over me. She and I exchange a smile that helps to put me at ease.

"There's no need to be nervous," she says, "it's straight-forward, no discomfort, and you'll have a little souvenir to take home at the end of it."

Apparently my nerves have disabled all common sense.

"The scan darling," Alan says quietly, with a rather amused smirk. "I don't think the baby is quite baked yet."

I can feel heat rushing to my cheeks as the nurse jokes that I have seven more months to go. "But it'll fly by and the little one will be here before you know it."

I apologise. "Sorry, I-I just don't like hospitals. Bad memories..."

 She smiles sympathetically and tells me miracles happen in them too.

I lay back on a bed where I'm asked to make myself comfortable. Alan, who gives me a warm smile, reminds me I should be enjoying our moment and not reliving memories of the last time I was here. I exhale and smile as he runs a thumb across my forehead, and rests his hand at the top of my head coaxing my hair. He looks utterly handsome in his long black coat with his eyes glittering in excitement and yet he still has a coolly focussed air about him - so very Alan.

Simultaneously we reach for each other's hand.

"This will be a little bit cold..." the sonographer pre-warns before rubbing a thick gel on my bump.

She places the transducer to my stomach gently rolling over to locate our baby and there on the screen before our eyes, the moving grey patterns take the shape of a little life. My throat cracks in a sheer joy as a I shed a tear at newly formed miniature fingers and teeny toes. Alan's eyes narrow into small almonds as his smile can no longer resist its upturned seal. He's beaming. Seeing him this way has a tear rolling down my cheek.

"This is real," I say almost whispery in disbelief. "A little life."

"Very real," he gushes, squeezing my hand, before magnetising to the screen again, his mouth slightly open in sheer wonder.

Before we leave, pre-natel testing is done to ensure the baby isn't at risk of any defects. Alan insisted. I haven't mentioned it aloud, but I have a feeling his urgency was partly due to his age and if that would have a negative effect on the baby. He wanted everything to be perfect.

Afterwards, we indulge in a little baby shopping. Alan and I have already been generously, although overwhelming inundated with gifts from his family, our friends, Emma - who we're planning on making god-mother but she doesn't know it yet - and because of this, Alan has put a halt to it. He reminds me that we have toys and clothes for up to three years old when it's "barely a fully formed fetus." His cynical humour does make me laugh, at least some of the time, other times when I'm in the midst of baby consumerism, it does tend to piss me off.

"They're just excited, like we are," I say as he lowers my hand before I reach for something in the 1-2 year old section.

"You buy that now, and by the time the baby is one, they'll not only have enough clothing to wear multiple outfits a day, but also enough to open their own extensive clothing line...World wide."

I snort being dragged away to the newborn section. Everything is so impossibly tiny and even more so next to Alan who picks up the tiniest little soft boots. I don't know which is sweeter - the look on his face or the sight of them in his large palm. They're coming home with us. As is a beautiful crib we set eyes on and other baby bits and pieces before I grab three more sleep-suits.

As the sales assistant bags them up, she and I are engaged in a giddy conversation about the sex of the baby, which we don't know yet because we aren't that far along. We're happy whatever the outcome, but I feel Alan would love a little girl, and Ellie a little sister.

Alan generously pays, takes the bags, but just as we go to leave, I spot something on the counter.

"Oh these are cute."

He playfully takes my arm and escorts me out of the shop before I can spend another penny.

"What do you think Ellie is going to say?" I smile at the thought of the news we're about to share with her as we go to pick her up from school.

"She'll be delighted I'm sure - a little brother or sister on the scene."

I'm so happy to say that Ellie has settled into school beautifully after a difficult first week. Unlike adults, kids can be so resilient, so much stronger than us. Just as quickly as someone knocks over their tower of bricks that they've worked hard at, they build the tower straight back up again, this time, stronger. Ellie is an inspiration. Over the last few weeks she's made new friends, loves her new teacher and brings home a daily array of pictures and paintings for the fridge and Alan's office.

As we pull up and park the car, I know she'll be over the moon to see Alan's face.  He's been filming all week and has been getting home late in the evenings, and so lately we haven't had much time together.

The doors open and the children leave, greeting their mum's and dad's. We catch a glimpse of Ellie behind her teacher, who points us out. Ellie takes one look at Alan and squeals, running from her classroom with her backpack bobbing and her oversized paintings threatening to fall from her arms that fling open like wings.

"Dad-dy! Dad-dy!"

Alan bends down with a throaty chuckle and she jumps into his embrace.

"Well that was lovely hello. Did you have a good day?"

Oh my heart. She called him daddy. My emotions get the better of me and I don't realise at first that the teacher has run out with the trail of paintings Ellie dropped and hands them over.

"I made a picture for you! I made lots of pictures!"

Alan's raises his brows, carrying her back to the car,

"Owh really? Well, we may just have a picture for you too."

"Really??"

"Really."

Is it possible to be more in love than I already am?

We get home, and reveal the baby scan to Ellie who looks so endearingly confused by the greyscale picture, and together Alan I point out the babies head, the little fingers, toes... Equally as excited as us, she insists it goes on the fridge next to her drawing - the drawing that reads...'Me, Mummy, Daddy, Baby.'

Our Family.

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*sigh* I'm so happy for them. More on the way soon!