Who: Nat W and Njall Strand What: Yeah, this really needs to be said in person When: Monday, April 8, 2019 | Late Where: Njall's apartment in Snowcap Warnings: Feels and fainting
Nat apparated to just outside Njall's front door and then leaned against the wall next to it, letting a particularly nasty wave of dizziness pass. She was tired, and probably she shouldn't have even been apparating, but this was not a conversation that could wait. It was bad enough that Njall already knew that she was pregnant. Why the hell hadn't she considered the possibility that he might start going back through things? When he'd gone social media dark after leaving for Iceland, she'd made assumptions...but those had obviously proven inaccurate.
Oddly, she wasn't even tempted to turn around and go back home, despite feeling entirely out of sorts both physically and mentally. She wasn't ready to have this conversation—but she was ready for it to be done. She rang the bell and focused on breathing slowly and figuring out what she was going to say. Of course, all of that went out of her brain immediately when the door opened, and she found herself staring at Njall almost blankly.
His normal wards that would tell him if someone had Apparated nearby had long since worn off, so Njall was legitimately startled when his doorbell chimed. He looked stupidly at the door for a second before going about the business of seeing who the heck would show up at--he checked his watch--eleven at night. Natalia Wyrzykowski was the last person on the list he could have possibly been expecting. His brows crawled toward his hairline, but he took an immediate step back to let her in.
"Hi. Uh, come in? Excuse the mess, I've been unpacking and the place is a wreck." He waved a hand at the disaster of clothes and boxes and papers behind him. "How are you? How've you been? How's the baby? You're having a baby. Of course you know that. You're the one that's having it. That's a really stupid thing to say. Can we start over with 'hi' and an offer of tea?"
And there he was, standing very near where he'd been the day they broke up, with a far more pleasant expression on his face, and goddammit why couldn't she just be heartless and get this over with? He'd even given her the perfect opener. But broken up or not, she couldn't start this by shoving information at him and rubbing his face in it. If that was her intent, letting him know by text would have been the kinder thing.
"Hi," Nat said, and managed what she thought was at least a neutral sort of smile as she stepped inside. She shook her head at the offer of tea. "I'm not planning to stay long. I wouldn't have even come this late, and so soon after you've gotten back, if it wasn't important." She glanced over at the living room, but the way was littered with boxes, and for all she knew, the seating might be the same. Which was fine. She wasn't going to be comfortable with all this until it was out in the open anyway. Instead, she leaned against the wall just inside the doorway. "I'm so, so, so sorry. This is really not how I envisioned this going."
Even though he hadn't seen her in nearly four months, and the last time hadn't been exactly pleasant, Njall couldn't bring himself to feel surprised that he wanted to go to her. He'd be lying to them both if he tried to deny it, or to deny that his thoughts had touched on her with no small amount of regret while he'd been settling his mother's affairs and reconnecting with family. But recent facts that had been brought to light just proved that their breakup had been for the best. She didn't need the drama of his crappy life, especially since she'd evidently moved on. He found he wasn't even all that upset by the idea that she'd found someone else already. He'd meant it back then that he wished her nothing but the best, and that she deserved so much better.
He said none of this, of course, but it all flashed through his head before he said quietly, "Envisioned what going? Look, if this is about the baby, it's fine. It was a surprise, sure, but I'm happy for you. You're amazing, and you deserve someone who's going to make you happy. I'm just glad it looks like you found them."
His journal alerted him to a ward and he glanced at where it sat open on a nearby table. "Hang on a sec, that's your brother." He scooped up the weather-beaten book and glanced down at the message. "He says we should talk. I'll let him know you're here. Just a second." He dashed off a reply and then tapped it so it wouldn't interrupt them again. "Sorry about that. You were saying?"
Nat almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, and how truer and truer her statement about how she'd envisioned things became with every word out of his mouth. She hated that either of them was in this position, but that wasn't going to make it go away, and she was an adult and could deal with it accordingly. She'd learned a lot of things from her Uncle Jesse, but taking responsibility for your actions was definitely one of the big ones.
She started to reply when the journal interrupted them, and once again she was hit by the desire to laugh. Of course he was talking to Tony already. Maybe she was just punch drunk. "It is about the baby," she started, once his attention was on her again. "But not for the reasons you probably think. Things ended with us, and it sucked, but I can make a clean break. Except...." She pushed lightly away from the wall, wanting to at least put a hand on his arm or something to soften it, but she was immediately dizzy and sank back again. It took her a second, but finally she said, "I haven't found anyone else, Njall. I'm 19 weeks pregnant."
He'd started toward her when she seemed unsteady on her feet, but her words stopped him just as surely as if she'd hit him with a impediment jinx. Nineteen weeks. His head flipped into healer mode for an unhelpful second--functioning kidneys, vernix formation, sensory development including hearing--before a calendar shoved its way to the forefront. Nineteen weeks. The last time he was with Nat, right before they broke up. No. NoNoNoNoNoNo. This wasn't happening. This could NOT be happening. He was staring, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself. His eyes dropped to her stomach, and bile rose into the back of his throat.
Slowly he raised them to look at her again. He had no idea what to say, except he had to say something, anything. There was a mulish part of him that wanted to question if she was sure it was actually his, but he told that part of him to kindly shut up and go to hell. Which was where he was right then. In hell. "I'm half-selkie!" he blurted. Yup. Definitely in hell. He could practically hear Satan laughing at him. "On my father's side. I just found out. I don't...know what that means. For you. For your...for the baby. For our baby. Oh, my God. Our baby."
Nat had known this information wouldn't be easy to swallow. Hell, it hadn't been for her, either, and she was the one with an interloper growing in her body. She stayed quiet and gave him a moment to start mentally sorting through it. It was really all she could offer him at this point, other than the fact that she didn't have any expectations of him. That she wasn't going to ask him to be involved, but wouldn't exclude him if he wanted it, either.
Except all of that went right out of her head at this pronouncement. "You're...what?" She gave a little nervous giggle, because it all seemed so absurd, but it was obvious from his tone as he went on that this was not a joke. She knew Selkies. Not personally, but was familiar with them in a way that the average witch probably wasn't. She'd never studied them formally, like she had the Merfolk, but the information was there. "You didn't...how do you not know something like that?" It was the wrong question right now, but it came out of her mouth anyway, and then she waved it away. She could only process one thing at a time right now. "Sorry, that's not the point. And I'm sorry you had to find out like this, really. I thought you weren't ever coming back."
Njall shoved his fingers back through his hair while his other hand twitched with the urge to move. But he wasn't sure what he would do if he did. Maybe leave. Maybe hug her. Maybe make an illegal portkey and go back to Iceland where he could deal with one nightmare at a time. He heard words coming from his mouth, but at a distance. "I was just going to bury my mother," he said in neutral tones, neither defensive nor snappish. "My life is here. Of course I was coming back. It's not like I gave HR notice." A dark look suddenly crossed his face. "And anyway, you'd be surprised how much parents hide from their children."
"No, I wouldn't," Nat said, and this time when she levered away from the wall, she forced herself to fight through the way her head swam so that she could take a couple of steps closer to him. "My parents hid themselves. Kind of hard to get more screwed up than that." Though, if she had to make a scale, having a dad who was a Selkie was definitely up there on the list.
"As far as the rest, I can't claim anything other than not entirely rational thoughts. You left so suddenly, and you were gone for so long, and then so much time had passed before I even knew, and...well, it seemed easier to believe you'd decided to stay in Iceland than it did to figure out how I could do this without upending your life, too." Nat finally gave in to the impulse to touch his arm, which was a good thing, because the room was starting to spin. She needed to get control of this if she wanted to be able to escape back home anytime soon.
He winced. Of course she knew. That had been a stupid thing to say, especially to her. "Right. Yeah. Sorry. I'm keylagged. That was pretty insensitive of me to say. But you're not… you're not screwed up. Not any more than the average person, that is." He made a face at himself. None of this was coming out right. Njall gave her a helpless little shrug. "I'm not using my words in the way that I want. I just mean we all have our damage. I wasn't trying to dismiss yours."
All of that babbling, all the chattering in his head went still as soon as her hand was on him. It snapped his focus on the present, and on the fact that Nat was very pale and her eyes were a little glassy. Healer instincts took over as he put his hand over hers--ignoring the warmth that spilled through that connection--and then moved up her arm to take her elbow. "Why don't we sit down for a sec to talk about this? I'm pretty sure tea doesn't go bad."
"It's fine." Nat probably would have continued down that line of discussion, but she didn't feel well enough for the argument that might follow, so she left the subject alone. "I don't want—"
She stopped and closed her eyes against a wave of lightheadedness far worse than any she remembered in recent weeks. She gripped his arm out of necessity, trying to keep her feet but stumbling a little in the process. Everything seemed suddenly very far away, but she pushed back against the sensation. "I think I'm going to pass out," she managed, hovering right there on the edge of consciousness.
There was a bit of a flurry of papers and boxes as Njall swiftly cleared a space on one of his chairs. With another wand motion, it transfigured into a chaise. He watched her eyes flutter behind their closed lids, and maneuvered her gently but firmly down onto it. Once Nat was settled and no longer in danger of having an unscheduled visit with his apartment floor, he started casting diagnostic spells. It was pathetic and probably psychotic how grateful he was for this emergency. It allowed him to completely shut down that part of him that had begun the rapid descent into panic and self-loathing.
"I'm okay," Nat said weakly, though she didn't resist as he helped her into a comfortable surface where she could lay down. She took long, deep breaths, concentrating on the sound of Njall's casting over her. She wasn't sure how long passed, but eventually she started to feel more like herself. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. Maybe she should have felt awkward, but there are far more pressing things to worry about. "I'm okay," she repeated, though she didn't try to sit up yet. "That was a bad one. Usually I just get a little woozy and have to sit down."
The diagnostic results were unhelpfully vague. It was frustrating, but not altogether unheard of in any pregnancy. Of course, that didn't factor in his dubious heritage. It could have been a contributing factor, but these weren't the spells that would tell him for sure. He gave her an assessing look, but tried to keep it from turning critical. (She was still so lovely, but this was the worst time to be having those kinds of thoughts.) "Have you told your regular OB healer about these episodes?"
Nat didn't quite glare at him, but it was close. "Of course I told my healer." She only barely refrained from adding I'm not an idiot, because she now extra did not feel up to an argument. "I can't exactly function if I can't stay on my feet, which does no one any good. He wasn't sure what might be causing it. Nothing in particular is pinging in the spellwork. But he's got me doing a food journal, watching my water intake, things like that. I'm supposed to go back next week." She sighed and ran a hand over her face. "Though I guess now I'm going to have to make time to go see him early. It really hasn't been this bad before."
She finally got up the energy to attempt to sit up, which she did slowly. The room wasn't spinning. That was a good sign. "I still want to pass on the tea, but maybe a glass of water?"
He was on autopilot as he got her the water as requested. Naturally, he could have summoned a glass and used the aguamenti to do so, but actually walking to the kitchen and making it a manual process gave him the time he needed to get the unhelpful mess of his thoughts together. In a moment, he was back and holding it out to her. "I could go with you," he said very quietly as he stood in front of her, and then inwardly cursed himself. He couldn't help but explain. "So the healer knows about me. About what I am. It'll probably make him re-evaluate the healing options for you, maybe help with whatever these syncopal episodes mean."
Nat gave him a rather startled look before she could catch herself. She accepted the water and took a couple of careful sips, using the time to recover her composure as best she could. Which really wasn't all that well. "Do you really think it could have something to do with this?" she asked, putting aside the weirdness that would be having her ex-boyfriend going to the healer with her, father or not. And god, didn't that thought have its own weirdness? Father. "Is there...well, is there even information about" —she waved her hand inarticulately at him— "I don't even know what you'd call it. I mean, you seem perfectly human to me."
"I don't know either," he admitted as he lowered himself to perch on the chaise next to her, just because this didn't feel like the kind of conversation he could comfortably have while looming over her. Reaching up, he carded his fingers through his hair again--definitely a nervous gesture--and sighed. "I don't know much about any of it, really. Just vague family stories and local legends that have more of a foundation in myth than they do in fact."
He snorted a laugh and extended his hand out in front of him, splaying it wide and gazing at the back of it. "Hell, I didn't even know that I'd had webbing removed from my fingers and toes until I came across some papers that my mom had squirreled away before she left the house." His hand dropped to his lap. The weight of everything was crushing against his skull. He'd just found out he wasn't entirely human, and now he was going to have a baby. Things were getting hazy at the edges of his vision as he stared toward a point in the floor. "I feel perfectly human, right up until the point where I'm not. I just have no idea where that point is."
Nat was grateful for having regained enough presence of mind to not react at the mention of being born with webbed fingers, even though the thought of her baby having something like that was vaguely horrifying. There was a time when she would have reached for his hand and wound her fingers through his, horrified or not, but that was several months gone now. She'd already known she didn't hate him—their romantic relationship had been too short for that—but what she did feel right now was pretty damn jumbled up. What she had really wanted was to get this whole baby thing out in the open and then hightail it out of there, but now that didn't seem right, with all that he was relating to her. And yet, there was a part of her that wanted to be selfish and walk out the door anyway. Wasn't that essentially what he'd done?
"I'll call my healer tomorrow morning and let him know...about the near-fainting and the rest, too." That was nice and neutral, and maybe if she was careful, she could avoid needing to answer about Njall coming to any appointments. She sipped her water for a moment and then added, "My family knows. That the baby's yours, I mean. I haven't mentioned your name to anyone else. There's probably a fair few who made the same assumption you did, but can't figure out how they missed it in this town. Especially since there haven't been any visible signs." She gestured down to her relatively flat stomach. She could tell a difference, but even that was mostly by feeling rather than sight. "My point being that you probably don't have to worry about it coming up randomly."
He nodded slowly, because that was a thing that felt expected and right. Not that any of this felt right. A thought occurred to him, making him laugh suddenly. "This is straight out of one of Tony's telenovelas." His smile went wry, and then dropped altogether. He looked up at her, obviously hesitated a moment, decided screw it, and touched her arm. "I mean it, Nat. I've gotta wrap my head around whatever all this means, and God knows I'm not gonna be perfect, but I want to be there for you." His eyes dropped to her stomach. "For them. In whatever way you need. Or don't need. I know we're gonna need to keep talking about this--of course we are--but I wanted to start with this." And then, very quietly, his voice one of wonder. "You're having a baby."
Nat was quiet for a long while, alternately looking at Njall's hand on her arm and down at her stomach. She shifted one hand to rest there in a gesture that still seemed strange to her, but that somehow sharpened her focus. This was a thing that was happening. There was a tiny human in there. She tried to remember what fruit or vegetable Tony's latest update had compared it to, but all of the weeks seemed to run together. "I don't know how to do this," she said quietly, looking up at him. "To be around you after everything, to constantly share all these personal things...I don't know. But it means a lot that you're willing."
She'd intended to go on, probably to say something about not wanting her baby to feel the way that she had as a child—and still did on occasion, truth be told—but her eyes had gone all teary, and she instead closed her mouth and tightened her cheeks, fighting off the emotions. If she was going to cry, it wasn't going to be here.
This was one of those moments where he normally would have just drawn her close and kissed her. Even though that ship had sailed, the impulse was still there. And now he had to find even that suspect. How many of his instincts that he'd always trusted had been…other? That tight feeling in his chest got worse. He took an unsteady breath and slid his hand out from under hers. He hated that disconnection as soon as it happened, but recognized that he needed it.
But just as he thought he'd gotten control of himself, he leaned over and gave her a hug. He lingered in it for a few seconds, feeling that pull that had drawn him to her in the first place--like the ocean (a thought that startled and discomforted him)--then eased back and stood. Njall offered her his hand. "There's gonna be a ton of unknowns about all of this, but maybe we can figure out a few of them before…" He shrugged. "I'll do whatever I can whenever I can."
Nat was relieved when he released her, despite the pang of loneliness that followed it. This was already messy, and given the tendency in their relationship to try to fix things with sex, it was best if she got out of there sooner rather than later. "I'll...I don't know. Text you?" She laughed a little at the absurdity of that statement. They were going to have a baby, but texting was about where things stood. Never in a million years would she have imagined herself here.
She got to her feet and was pleased to find that she still felt a little off, but it wasn't any more than the normal low level of off. Good enough to get home. "Bye." She kissed him on the cheek, because there didn't seem any other response, and then headed for the front door.