Chapter Text
“Colin”
“Colin!”
He jolted awake, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
“Pen?” was the only word he could manage as he sat upright, limbs moving sluggishly, before swivelling his head to try to take in his surroundings. The room was bathed in muted grey light, he could hardly tell if it was day or night. His shirt was drenched in his own sweat, clinging to his chest and back. For a moment, he did not know where he was—or even what day it was. His eyes darted across the ceiling, then to the walls that seemed unfamiliar and distorted in the haze of waking. He felt a gentle hand tracing lines along his forearm that made him turn to his right to find a mess of auburn hair, a smaller figure wearing a royal blue t-shirt he recognized from his wardrobe.
“Colin, you’re burning up.” her voice came softly, still laced with sleep and thick with concern.
He blinked at her once. Twice. Three times.
“You’re okay. Fuck , you’re here.” his voice trembled in disbelief.
Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him gently into her warmth. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, tears streameing down his cheeks as he let his body sink into the calm she radiated.
She ran her fingers slowly through his damp chestnut hair, smoothing away the remnants of the nightmare that still clung to him. Cradling him in her arms, she rocked back and forth until she felt his breathing gradually slow. He felt the tension in his shoulders melted away as his body relaxed to her embrace. The heaviness pressing down on his chest lifted bit by bit until it was replaced by a sense of safety.
“I’m here, baby”, he heard her softly say just as he slipped into slumber.
———
Penelope’s eyes fluttered open to the soft morning light slipping through the curtains, casting a pale glow across the bedroom she shared with her husband—the same feverish husband she now realized was no longer beside her.
Before she could call out his name, a warm, comforting smell reached her— a rich, savoury scent of soup simmering from somewhere nearby. She took a deep breath, letting the aroma fill her lungs. A faint clatter of a wooden spoon against a pot was heard from all the way to the bedroom. She could only assume that the sound came from the kitchen where her sick husband would most likely be found considering they did not live with anyone else in their months old house. At least not yet.
She quietly slipped out of bed and padded down the hallway, barefoot, and down the stairs, towards the source of the familiar smell. As she rounded the corner into the kitchen, the sight that greeted her stopped her in her tracks— not in alarm, but in something far gentler, something that tugged at her heart.
Colin stood over the stovetop with a blanket draped haphazardly over his shoulders, looking like a superhero who had just rolled out of bed with a faint flush on his cheeks and hair messy from sleep. He was making soup.
Her eyes drifted back and forth between him and the pot of bubbling soup on the stove. She felt her heart swelling at the quiet stubbornness of the gesture. Her husband looked so determined, standing there with tired eyes and pale skin.
“You should be in bed”, she said softly, her words coming out more like a breath rather than a scolding.
Colin jumped slightly at the sound of her voice cutting through the silent hum of the simmering soup. He looked up with wide eyes before softening with relief. Despite the pale flush on his cheeks and the heavy drag of fatigue in his posture, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“You scared me”, he murmured, “I didn’t hear you come down.”
She crossed the kitchen in a few steps, her bare feet cold against the tile. Without uttering a single word, she reached up to brush the damp hair from his forehead, letting her fingers linger as she felt the heat still on his skin.
“You’re still warm”, she whispered, worry slipping into her tone despite herself.
Before she could say more, Colin leaned down to pull her into his arms as tight as he could without pressing too hard on the gentle curve growing on her belly. His navy blue blanket slipped from his shoulders as he wrapped her in his warmth, burying his face in her neck for a beat before peppering soft, fluttering kisses across her face—her cheeks, her tiny nose, her forehead, then her lips.
She let out a low and breathy laugh as her fingers curled into the back of his shirt. “Colin”, she grumbled, affectionately, but didn’t dare pull away. Not even for a second.
They stayed wrapped up in each other for a few moments longer before Colin loosened his hold, his hands trailing down her arms as he pulled back just enough to take a proper look at her. Penelope caught an expression in his eyes that she could not quite recognize. Something fragile and unspoken, almost like he could not quite believe that she was standing in front of him . Safe. The look made her heart stutter and her mind wander back to whatever dream he had woken from in the middle of the night. Whatever it was, it had shaken him.
“The soup’s ready,” he said in a soft voice, raspier than usual but still laced with warmth. “Go sit. I’ll bring it over.”
Before she could turn her aching body towards the dining table, he dipped his head and pressed a gentle kiss to the swell of her belly, resting his palm there for a second before straightening up and brushing a thumb across her cheek with a soft smile.
“Both of you need to eat.”
———
They sat across from each other at the dining table gifted to them by his brother, Anthony, and his wife, Kate, as a housewarming present when they moved into their home shortly after their wedding, the mismatched bowls of steaming chicken soup nestled between them. Penelope cradles hers in her tiny hands, blowing on the surface while eyeing Colin over the rim.
“You sure you’re okay?”, she asked, watching him stir his spoon around, trying to get his soup to cool down faster.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, but his voice cracked halfway through the word and sent him into a coughing fit.
As soon as it passed, he cleared his throat, grinned and added, “See? Picture of health.”
Penelope tilted her head. “You look like a damp sock.”
He narrowed his eyes. “That’s rich coming from someone who just rolled out of bed looking like a cute hedgehog.”
“Well, this hedgehog is carrying your child and still managed to look more alive than you”, she retorted flatly.
He blinked, her words hitting him like a well-aimed pebble to his chest. His eyes widened just a little and something in his whole posture shifted.
“You’re right,” he said, an unmistakable shakiness in his voice. “You’re carrying our baby and still you rushed downstairs making sure I don’t spontaneously combust over soup.”
The slight shift in his tone caught her off guard.
“Colin—“
“No, I just…” he reached out, placing a gentle hand over hers. “I forget sometimes. Not in a bad way, just…you joke, and you roll your eyes, and you still take care of me even when I look like a walking corpse in a cape, and I— God, I’m so in love with you I forget how terrifying that is.”
Her expression softened as she felt his hand squeeze hers gently, his thumb brushing across her knuckles. She studied him for a moment, lines of concern creeping their way across her features.
“Was that what your dream was about? Me?”
He looked down at their hands, jaw tightening as if he was struggling with whether to say it out loud. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he looked back up. He had this vulnerability that only came when your heart had been cracked open in sleep and was still piecing itself back together.
“Yeah,” he admitted, voice shaky. “There was a war. I had to leave you behind. I promised I’d come back and I did but when I did, you weren’t there. You—“
His voice faltered as he felt his throat tightening. He couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. The mere thought of losing her, of not having her in his life, ripped through him like a shrapnel. The grief, irrational but overwhelming, caught up to him fast and hard enough that he could not stop a sob escaping him.
Penelope’s chair scraped softly against the floor as she pushed it back in a rush. She was right by his side in seconds, kneeling beside him. Her arms found their way around his torso, holding him tight.
“Oh, Colin” she whispered. She could not help her voice cracking as she cradled him in her arms. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
He clung to her like a lifeline, like she could be taken from him at any moment, with so much fear that she might slip through his fingers like she did in that awful dream. They were silent for a few minutes—no words, no movement, just the quiet beat of their hearts, holding each other while appreciating the sacred act of being able to hold each other. Of still having the chance to do so.
“You left me a letter. You told me that we had a little girl.” he choked out after a few minutes of silence. “She was there. Red curly hair, just like you. But her eyes…she had my eyes.”
Penelope’s breath caught in her throat as she felt a swell of emotion tightening in her chest, trying to hold back tears. She loosened her hold on him and rose to her feet only to lean back down and wrap her arms around his shoulders instead.
“Colin…” she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss into his hair. “I’m here now, she’s going to be here, too. We’re going to meet her together. Hold her together. And I’m going to make her breakfast in the morning and you will drop her off at school. And you will come back to me waiting for you. You will tell her all your terrible jokes and embarrass her in front of her friends and I will be there clutching my stomach in laughter. She’s real, and she’s coming to us.”
He gave her a small nod—not only in agreement, but the kind of nod someone gives when they’re desperately trying to believe in something far greater than fear. He curled his fingers around her forearm to bring her in front of him so he could press a gentle kiss on her belly. He then took both her hands in his and pressed his lips against them, lingering for a few seconds.
“I think the dream…it might have been more than just a dream,” he said.
“I mean, of course it wasn’t real, but…it felt like everything I’ve been trying not to say out loud. The war, losing you—it was all just this sick and twisted version of what I’m really scared of.” He glanced up at her, searching her face. “I’m fucking terrified, Pen. Of becoming a father. Of not being enough. Of failing you. Of being without you.”
Her heart clenched at the rawness of his confession. Her hand guided Colin’s head to rest on her swollen belly.
“You’re allowed to be scared. Hell, I’m scared, too,” she said gently. “This is big. And this is something we’re both new to. But what I do know is it’s something that is so so full of love. We are going to figure it out—together.”
He let out a slow exhale as if the whole world was lifted off his back. She could feel the tension begin to ease from his shoulders.
“You don’t have to be perfect, Colin,” she added with a steady voice. “You just have to be here. And you are.”
Colin’s eyes glistened as he looked at her with so much adoration. Like she was the only thing tethering him to the earth.
“God, Penelope,” he let out a shaky breath, brushing his knuckles down the side of her cheek. “How did I ever get so lucky?”
A smirk slowly crept onto her face. She opened her mouth to respond, but she was cut off by her husband.
“You could have chosen anyone. Someone who is not stubborn, less of a walking disaster. Someone who doesn’t lose his phone in the couch cushions every other day or panic over normal pregnancy cravings.”
“So, someone boring?” she teased, a grin growing across her face.
He let out a guttural laugh at that one. “Exactly. But you chose me. And now you’re here, growing this little person—half of you and half of me.”
“I mean, you did run a block after my taxi that night. The driver was so confused.” she said as she rolled her eyes in fake annoyance.
Colin stood from his chair to plant a kiss on her lips, his hands cupping her cheeks.
“I love you so much, My Pen. I just don’t know how to hold all this love sometimes.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, barely tall enough to do so. “That’s okay. I’ve got room to hold the rest of it for you.”
He exhaled a breath and whispered, “You always do.”
Penelope took one of her hands from around his neck to deliver a swift smack to his bum.
“Now, enough with the war documentaries or no TV time for you for the rest of the week.” she warned in a stern voice with a soft glint in her eyes.
Colin let out a dramatic gasp, one hand flying to clutch his bum.
“And don’t make me force a Tylenol down your throat.” She added with a raised eyebrow.
He let out a laugh before shaking his head in disbelief. “You really are getting the hang of the mom thing before our baby is even here, Mrs. Bridgerton.”
She tilted her chin up with a smug smile etched on her face. “Someone’s gotta keep you in check.”
“Oh, I’m thoroughly checked.”
“Good.” she said as she tugged him down by his shirt to plant a tender kiss on his forehead. He felt a rush of heat creeping up his neck then his cheeks which he tried to mask with a coughing fit, into his sleeve.
“So…” he began casually. “Baby names?”