[[for Henri]]

[adifferentlife]

Sybil sits on the edge of the bed, the box clutched between her hands. She has yet to open it, unable to take it out and perform the test that feels as if it has already changed everything. It's simple enough to find out the truth she knows. All she has to do is open the box and administer the test. Open the box and she won't even have to mention it to Henri if the test is negative.

More lies? More secrets dividing us?

That thought preys on her until she can think of nothing but the strained moments that have sat between them since their return from Downton. They are fewer these days, but they still exist and though there are less of them they seem deep all the same.

She hears the door open and her grip on the box tightens until she's crushing it, her knuckles white.

"I'm in the bedroom," she calls out when she hears him say her name. A part of her wants to hide the test, but she squares her shoulders instead, holding it firm in her lap.

Comments

[jaimemieux]

“Cherie?” Combeferre frowned softly, following Sybil’s voice into the bedroom. Had he heard a renewed tension in her voice, or was it only his imagination? Things had finally begun to soften between them after their debacle in Downton, and surely something new had not come between them now.

He still wore a face of concern when he found her sitting on the bed. “Are you well, Sybil?"

[adifferentlife]

“I’m not sure,” she says softly, now worried that he’s here. What might he say about this predicament and how they’ve gotten to this place? She looks up at him, the worry plain in her eyes as she holds out the box; slightly crushed but as of yet unopened.

[jaimemieux]

“What is that?” Henri asked, voice gentle as he went to sit beside her. Somehow, the small paper box seemed to be the source of Sybil’s concern - or at least a reflection of it. “Sybil-“ Only then did he read the blue writing across its white face. Pregnancy test.

“Sybil.” His voice dipped softer still, becoming a shaky exhale as he said her name.

[adifferentlife]

She lets go of the box with one hand, finding his and gripping it tightly instead. She's so afraid of what he might say, or that he might be angry because of this. "I don't know, yet. I haven't been able to take it out of the box."

[jaimemieux]

Henri squeezed her hand hard and kissed her temple. He feared that lately he had not been the best of men to Sybil - the way he had dismissed her when they had been trapped in Darrow still haunted him as he laid in bed in the evening - and now he feared saying yet another foolish thing. When he did speak, it was with words chosen carefully. “Do you wish to? We might go to a doctor instead. I would go with you."

[adifferentlife]

“I think I should like to do it here,” she says, relieved that he would offer to come with her at the least. If she is going to have the shame of this, she doesn’t want it public, not yet. Sybil holds his eyes, searching for something she’s not sure of, some answer to a question as of yet unasked. “If it is, if I am, what then?”

[jaimemieux]

Henri swallowed hard. “We will do whatever is right for us. All of us.” He exhaled shakily, hoping that Sybil could not see just how unsteady he felt. Part of him wanted nothing more in the world than to marry Sybil, have a child, live together in peace. But could they do that now? Were they strong enough - weathered, but steady? “Whatever it is, we will do it together.”

There. That much he could promise with certainty.

[adifferentlife]

There is a part of Sybil that hoped for a grander promise; that of marriage and all that came with it. But his words are steady, and they include them both as equals, something she appreciates greatly now that he's spoken. "We will."

It takes another moment before she's ready to stand, to go into the bathroom and use the test as it tells her to. That part she can't have him watch, but she brings the little stick back out to him, standing and waiting for the minute it will take.

"I love you," she says, needing to tell him before they know what the answer is.

[jaimemieux]

“And I love you.” In those few minutes that Sybil had been gone, Combeferre had confronted the possible futures that lay before him - as father, as husband, as a man torn between two worlds, but kept steady by those who mattered most. And then something strange happened: he realized that those futures did not frighten him. As long as the woman he loved was with him, he could manage the rest. He could manage it happily.

Before Sybil could say anything further, Combeferre stood and went to her, taking her hands. “Before you tell me, I must say something,” he told her with a voice of certainty and calm. “I do not wish to marry you- no, that is not right. I wish to marry you more than anything in the world. But I do not want you to ever wonder, now or decades from now, for even the slightest moment, that any offer was made under duress. So know that when I do ask for your hand - and I assure you, I will-“ here, he blushed and ducked his head- “I will be offering nothing more than my heart. And I welcome whatever form our life together might take."

[adifferentlife]

His words are nearly too much for her. He says everything that she wanted and yet everything that she worries of. "Nor would I wish anything else, and thank you. For saying so now."

Sybil can only take his hand and kiss him softly, the stick still ominous in one hand. Yet, when she does turn to look at it, the markings have not changed. There is no second line, and that is both a relief and a disappointment. Sybil turns to Henri, a hand still tight in his. "I don't know what I should feel."

[jaimemieux]

Henri licked his lips, gaze flickering from the device to Sybil. He had heard of these tests, even understood the principle behind them, but before now he had had no reason to learn how they displayed the result. Nevertheless, he found the look on Sybil’s face easy to read, and a similar wash of pain and surprising disappointment went through him as well. “Then you are not…?” he began, only managing half the question.

[adifferentlife]

"No," she says, looking again to the small bit of plastic with its lack of stripes. Sybil looks back up at him, unsure of what to say or how she should feel. It's disappointing, but there's also a kernel of relief which is confusing and makes her feel worse. "I'm- We, are not."

[jaimemieux]

“Very well,” Henri murmured, relief and loss mingling in his voice. “Then that is what is meant to be. For now.” He took both of Sybil’s hands. “My darling, we have the chance to do it right, do you see? We were meant to choose our own fate, without the meddling hand of tradition, or chance, or family.” He flashed a ghost of a smile. “And we should not be ashamed of that."

[adifferentlife]

He is kind, and good, and she loves him with every bit of her being she thinks, especially in this moment. His words are soothing and encouraging, and she smiles at him though it is a tentative thing. "We can, and we should. Thank you."

[jaimemieux]

Henri kissed her softly upon the forehead. Words formed on his lips that he should have spoken some time ago; Sybil deserved a true apology for the distance he had allowed to develop between them since they had returned from their dreamlike adventure to Downton. “I know I have not been the most easy man to love of late. I have been far more distracted than you deserve. But you are always first in my heart, Sybil, even when I do a poor job of showing it."

[adifferentlife]

"And you, mine," she says, his words more than she had hoped to hear. Sybil had become used to their distance, the space between them something she had accepted albeit with difficulty. She loved him, no matter what the strain in their relationship, and she knows that the tension is not only his fault but also her own. "It is not only you that has had a hard time of it."

[jaimemieux]

“I know.” He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek and smiled - though with a certain sadness. “Nevertheless, that does not excuse my own behavior.” Henri took a breath. “You will forgive me?"

[adifferentlife]

She takes a moment to look at him; at his glasses almost askew, at the hair that curled over his forehead and collar, the flush of his cheeks and the earnest sincerity in his eyes. There is no doubt in her mind that she would forgive him a great deal more than this. "Always."

[jaimemieux]

With a sheepish laughed, Henri ducked his head. “Thank God.” He took a breath, smiling with more certainty as he met her gaze again. Everything would be all right, he told himself. “What do you say to dinner, perhaps? We might order take-out. Some of those egg rolls."

[adifferentlife]

With those words, and the many halting ones that came before them, things again seemed right to Sybil. It seemed that Henri and she were again finding their way together, however strange the path they were on might be. "Please. Some of the flat noodles with the duck and black bean sauce too."