March 21st, 1890 — The Crouch Apartment, Paris

The translucent emerald vial clutched tightly in her hand wasn't entirely dissimilar to the one that had drastically altered her life weeks ago. It housed another illegal potion procured through questionable means as a potential solution to an unexpected complication. Melody's limited access to research (one of the hardest consequences for her to bear in the aftermath of eloping) promised no guarantees of its effectiveness. Some cases produced the desired results, whilst others led to horrid outcomes. But, after nearly three weeks of sitting on the realization of her pregnancy, Melody knew she had no other alternatives. She had to rid herself of the babe before it became a more obvious problem.

Changes, both subtle and not, had already begun to make their appearance. Her near constant state of nausea caused a decrease in appetite so severe her already slight build appeared even thinner. Somehow, mercifully really, she had yet to hurl with Ben present (though that record was becoming increasingly hard not to break). Her breasts, while not yet a drastically different size, were overly sensitive and ached from the restrictions of her corset. And now, underneath her heavy layers, was a slight swell unmistakable to someone as familiar with their body as she. Despite her every effort to ignore her condition, there was little denying it now.

All there was left to do was act.

Melody endlessly paced the cramped apartment as she struggled to convince herself to drink the potion. It wasn't a devotion to the baby that extinguished her flash of courage. Motherhood had always seemed like a far off eventuality to her — a reality she had years yet to reconcile with. The responsibility of raising morally decent people was one woefully unprepared for, for how could she teach someone to do the right thing when she'd committed every wrong herself? Even perfect Maisie had waited at least a year before announcing her first pregnancy, as did several of her married friends. It wasn't fair that she (perhaps the most unmarried married person there was) fell pregnant after only one night. What a cruel trick of fate the universe decided to play on her, for had Ben not decided to stay with her she truly would be destitute now.

Ben...

To speak of fairness would mean to acknowledge the harm she was (once again!) causing her husband. Despite what he may believe, Melody was convinced he would be a wonderful father. He was thoughtful and responsible (when required, anyway). He placed other's happiness above his own. He was always honest about himself with her. Were she not in the equation Ben would grow into an excellent father. However, there was no mistaking her part in parenting this child whom she only recently begun to have dreams of. Thoughts of their beautiful baby came unbidden once more: a boy with her curls and his charm. A heartbreaker from infancy. A warm complexion and sparkling eyes. A bog with wit and knowledge. A mischiveous devil.

An angel.

Tears welled in her eyes and bile rose in her throat as she removed the vial's stopper once more. Ben and she were only just beginning to adjust to their new reality. His trust in her was still, and would likely always be, shattered. The foundation for a bridge between them was only just beginning to form. She refused to bring a baby into a marriage in shambles. Not to mention there was still an insurmountable mountain of obstacles to work through before they could contemplate adding another person to the mix. Melody's rushed actions had hindered his freedoms — she didn't want to further the entrapment with the task of fatherhood. Ben deserved better than that. Ben deserved a chance to be happy when becoming a parent. Melody refused to steal that joy from him too.

It was only by a sheer force of will that she hadn't yet shed a tear. Her hands shook with an unease she had never experienced. This potion didn't just house the means to rid herself of a pregnancy, it also contained heartache and grief. An inexplicable sadness. Apologies to Ben, to the unborn baby, to herself echoed through her thoughts like a well known mantra. Forgiveness was a grace she would no longer deserve.

'This has to be done. It has to be done. It has-'

Behind her, the door to the apartment opened.

  

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Ben was worried about Melody. He didn't know whether he should be, or whether he had any right to be, but he was all the same. She seemed to have been getting quieter by the day, though that may have just been his imagination. He thought, too, that she might be getting sick, but he couldn't put his finger on exactly why. Something about the way she carried herself, or how she ate, maybe. He felt as though she were withering away before his eyes, but he hadn't noticed anything concrete enough to say whether that was really happening or not. If it was, he felt it was probably his fault. Maybe not directly, but perhaps by forcing her to live in this squalid little hotel room for so long. She was used to much, much better, and they'd been killing time in Paris longer than he'd thought they would've.

Even if there was cause to worry, though, was that his place? Maybe she was depressed, and maybe it was because the realities of the lifestyle change were finally starting to sink in, but who was he to tell her how she ought to feel about that? He'd never been exceptionally wealthy, though his family had always been well-off. He'd never been cut off so completely from the future he should have had as she had been when she decided to marry him. If she was depressed about it, then what was he supposed to say to her to talk her out of it? It wasn't as though he could empathize. Not really.

So he was trying his best to stay out of it. When he came home that day he tossed a bag from the local bakery onto the small table, as he usually did, then moved to sit so that he could remove his shoes. "Hey," he greeted with a bit of a weary tone. "Good news. I think I've closed this deal I've been working on with the French distributor. Haven't signed anything yet, but... it seems like it's more or less in the bag," he said with a shrug. "Which means I probably won't be unemployed when we make it back home."

  

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Melody's thoughts were lagging as she processed Ben's sudden appearance. Countless hours had disappeared throughout her stressed afternoon. A look to the window proved what she believed to be early afternoon was now early evening. 'Stupid fool.' She scolded herself internally. Had Melody realized even five minutes sooner what time it was she would have set this gruesome task for another day. Tomorrow, even. Any time other than the hour Ben was due home.

Not even her adept skills of neutrality would be able to hide the bubbling turmoil within. She hadn't had any time to compose herself but the thirty seconds it took for her to turn to face him, the open vial plain as day in her hand. Another mistake, she soon realized. Ben wasn't naive enough not to question a potion in her hand, especially when considering her track record with potions. For all she knew, he would think she was searching for a way to poison him.

His news registered only minimally as her gaze flitted between him and the floor between them. Once that deal was secure they could return home. Fuck. Melody had even less time than she thought to deal with this pregnancy. "Hi." She said finally, likely long after he stopped sharing about his day. How to tell him she was only seconds away from (hopefully) ridding herself of their baby? Melody resealed the potion and turned her attention to him once more. "I uhm. We should talk."

  

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When Melody turned around it took him half a second to take in everything there was to notice. Her facial expression, the look in her eyes, the open potion vial in her hand. Ben tensed. He had no idea what she was doing, but it was clear that she'd been caught in the middle of something she hadn't planned to be caught at. That was enough to set off alarm bells in and of itself — that there was something she was, apparently, hiding from him — but the presence of the potion vial took things to a whole other level. The last time that Melody had done something with a potion without telling him about it...

He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but it was hard to imagine that there was anything good in store. Especially after she hurriedly re-capped the potion.

"Yeah," he replied stiffly. "Looks like it." He'd thought things had been going a bit better, after the night they'd played cards. Had he been misreading everything? Had something derailed and gone totally wrong at some point without his realizing it? He indicated a chair at the table and waited for her to sit and start explaining.

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Already this was disastrous. The past week had seen a break in the constant tension surrounding them. The great divide between them at night had lessened enough to where Melody could hold his hand if she so chose. To lose all that now because of yet another potion was reason enough to weep. Never mind what she was hoping the potion would do.

Melody hesitantly moved towards the table and placed the vial in the center. "It's what I was researching," she started quietly. The next words felt impossible to say aloud. In fact, thinking of it now, Melody hadn't yet spoken the truth. The potioneer had known without her explanation what she was after, and that was the only person who knew still. She swallowed thickly, the tears she'd been battling threatened to spill.

This wasn't how Ben ought to have found out about his child.

"I need you to understand I didn't seek this out because of any doubts in you. If anything, you're the only reason I haven't yet taken it." She explained frantically. Then, after a long drawn out moment of silence she pressed on in a near whisper, "I have reason to suspect I'm - we're expecting. The potion is meant to cause a miscarriage."

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Melody's announcement was so unexpected that for half a second Ben didn't realize what she was saying. Once he'd connected the word expecting to its most common colloquial meaning, however, his face fell. Pregnant. She was pregnant. His first thought was that this whole charade was for nothing, then — everyone would assume they'd run off together because they'd been having sex for months and she was going to be ruined by an early baby that was obviously not her husband's if she went through with the arranged marriage. A part of him was almost a little relieved that they wouldn't have to pretend to be in love, or even happy — but that was immediately overwhelmed by the realization that in several months there would be a baby, and what the hell was he going to do with himself then?

Except maybe there wouldn't be. Left to his own devices with just the news of the pregnancy, he may very well have come to the same conclusion she had, but following as it did on the heels of the earlier revelation, the word miscarriage sent his head spinning. What did that mean, exactly? What was this potion going to actually do? Did it work? Was it safe? Where had she gotten it, and how long had she been doing research?

How long had she known about this without telling him? And then that lead, inevitably, to the one point of this that loomed larger than all of the others. He wasn't sure how he felt about her pregnancy, or how he should feel about it, and he was equally uncertain about the path she apparently intended to take to address the issue. He knew immediately how he felt about the latest point, however.

"You weren't going to tell me," he said, deadpan, as he looked from the vial back to her.

  

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"No, I wasn't." She admitted weakly. It was yet another betrayal, she knew it. But, were the situation reversed Melody was certain she wouldn't want to know about what might have been. To forever wonder about the various possibilities and life this child might have had. Just minutes ago Melody would've fallen to her knees and begged not to have this knowledge. Why would she have burdened him with it if she didn't have to?

"There is already too much for us to deal with. Your employment, finding a house...even learning about one another. This isn't something we're - I'm ready for." She subconsciously wrapped her arms around herself as she spoke, almost as though she might protect the baby from what was to come. "Parenthood is meant to be a happy occasion. It's terrifying and limiting and stressful, but Maisie was so blindly happy when she had her first baby. I just...I didn't want the first time you became a parent to be a direct result of my mistakes."

  

Everything she was saying was logical and correct, on the one hand. He wasn't sure what he was feeling at the moment, but happy wasn't part of it. This was too much, too fast, and they were both still trying to orient themselves to this new life they were supposed to share together. They didn't even have a place to live. Even after they'd moved back and settled into some sort of routine — and even if they were somehow able to patch up the shreds of this relationship into something that resembled mutual affection, or some shadow of it — Ben still wasn't sure he'd be ready for something like this. He certainly wasn't ready for it now.

The fact remained, though, that she was thinking about going through with this — this thing that would, in essence, kill his child, and might very well kill her in the bargain — and she hadn't even been planning to tell him.

All at once he felt exhausted. What were they doing here? What were they playing at? They couldn't pretend to be a couple, and they couldn't possibly try to get to a place of mutual understanding at some point in the future, if they were starting here. He'd thought things had been looking up, after the card game, but now he was realizing that not only had that not been any sort of real progress, but the start line wasn't even where he'd thought it had been.

"You weren't going to tell me," he repeated, emphatically this time. "Melody — what — what am I supposed to do here? How the hell am I supposed to try and be your husband if you're — if you're going to act like this? If you aren't even going to pretend you care about me, and what I want, or what I think? If you're going to just do whatever you think is best at every turn and not even ask me? This is the night at the ball all over again," he said bitterly. "You didn't learn a goddamn thing from any of that, did you? Or — no, you know what? I'm the one who didn't learn anything. You were pretty damn clear that you didn't care about me, and you didn't trust me, and it was stupid of me to think you might've changed."

  

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"This isn't that." She said equally as passionately as he. "I wasn't going to tell you because this is a horrendously sad decision - one that I've been turning over and over struggling with. Didn't you stress only a few weeks ago how there were only two sorts of couples who eloped?! Those who loved one another and those who were pregnant? Which one have you been pushing us towards? Which one was I to wreck myself over living?!" She stood from the table to resume her earlier pacing. The tears she had an already fragile hold on slipped down her cheeks as she ranted.

Melody stood to face him, her feet freezing a few feet away from him as she more calmly said, "I wasn't going to tell you because I was trying to spare you. Not because I wasn't thinking of you."

  

Melody was spiraling, that was clear. If they'd been talking about something else he would have gone to comfort her, but as it was he was still too angry to do anything about her growing distress other than notice it and push it aside. Her feelings didn't trump his, and he wasn't going to let the fact that she was upset keep him from saying what was on his mind — though why he was bothering at all, he didn't know. It wasn't like she'd taken anything in from the last time they'd had this exact same fight, was it? Here she was again, setting up to make a big, life-altering decision for him that he would only find out about when it was too late to change course.

"You want to spare me?" he asked, voice full of vitriol. "You can spare me this patronizing bullshit, Mel. Every time things get tough, you act like I'm so fragile, like I can't handle whatever you're going through, and you just take me out of the equation. That's bullshit," he stormed. "I can't live with someone who treats me like this. I can't pretend to build a life with someone who won't even tell me when they're about to make a decision that affects both of us. I mean, honestly, Melody, what do you expect me to do here? How am I supposed to feel about this?"

  

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His questions and accusations hung in the air between them like an axe waiting to put an end to this charade entirely. What a fool she was to have put them in this situation twice, to have stripped him of an opinion on all matters of great importance. Though, she still fervently believed Ben was better left in the dark. Ignorance was bliss, after all. What he didn't know couldn't ache like a gaping wound.

Or, at least, that was how she felt.

"I don't know, Ben." She sniffled, her eyes red and puffy. "I know you disagree, but I truly believe I was doing the best thing. It's not because I believe you're fragile or unable to cope with my dealings. Clearly, you've proven yourself tenfold there." Melody sat on the edge of the bed. Sitting across the table from him felt too intimate now for some reason. "I mean, is this what you what you want? To bring a baby into this mess? To lose even more of the freedoms than I've already cost you? Because I'm already drowning under the weight of that."

  

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Obviously Melody had a lot on her mind at the moment, and if he were less frustrated himself he might have been willing to cut her more slack as she responded. As it was, the main takeaway for him was that despite everything he'd just said, she still wasn't listening. He wasn't talking about the pregnancy and how to handle it, because in his mind there was no way to even begin that conversation until they'd had another one first. He had to know that she wasn't just going to keep doing this stuff — trying to make every major life decision without him — or else what was the point? Why had he stuck by her after the elopement and completely derailed his life if she wasn't even willing to try meeting him halfway on anything? It was even worse than that though, worse than not trying to compromise. She hadn't even figured out whether a compromise was necessary, because this news — this major, life-altering piece of news — wasn't even something she was going to tell him.

"Of course I don't want a baby," he shot back. He felt as though he could explode from everything building up in his chest, which he didn't know how to put into words. "I don't even want to be married. But it's not as though I get a say, is it? In this, or in anything?"

  

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"If I could alter history I would." She said with a heavy sigh. It was a phrase she was likely to repeat for years to come. Whenever something went wrong in their new lives every argument would boil back to the worst decision of her life.

Melody rubbed her temples tiredly. The crying combined with the stress of the afternoon exhausted her. "This choice isn't yet final, though it does need to be made sooner than later." She continued quietly. The effectiveness of the potion diminished as the weeks went by, if they were hoping to remain childless a choice would have to be made soon. "I'm going to get some air."

  

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She was just going to leave? Ben was frustrated, but he wasn't even sure if he wanted to try and stop her. What was the point in continuing to argue? She still wasn't hearing what he was trying to tell her, or addressing the thing that he felt was so much more vitally important than the actual fact of whether or not she drank this potion. That — was a big deal, obviously. It would have a huge impact on their lives either way, and it deserved due consideration. But once that choice was made, it was done. The larger issue at hand was going to keep coming up throughout the rest of their lives. How they made decisions together (or didn't), how they talked to one another, how they treated one another... these were not the sort of things that one could just apologize for and move on with. Not after she'd proven that she had a track record of just forging on ahead without him and making decisions on behalf of both of them.

But he wasn't going to convince her to change by talking her through it tonight. What's more, he wasn't going to convince himself to trust her again so easily — so what was the point of keeping this up?

"Fine," he said, diverting his eyes from her. "Do what you want."

  

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