Oliver: Chapter 4: "She"
Title: Oliver
Genre: Post-513, Daddy!Fic, Fluff
Summary: Brian and Justin's lives post 513, focusing mainly on raising the newest addition to their family, their son, Oliver.
Timeline: 2013--->
Notes: This story will have 100 'sections', and is based upon the fanfic 100 table, but I'll be rearranging some of it a bit. You can find it here--> Oliver Master Post Table Basically, this story is meant to be a breather for me while I finish my original novel. Each section will be at least 500 words, and with 100 sections, that will mean I will reach the 50,000 nanorwrimo goal when it's completed.
This story is a thank you for all of you fanfiction readers who have stuck by me for so long. Sections, aka, chapters, will probably be posted quite rapidly as I usually like to get my fist 50,000 nanorwimo words out of the way. I wanted to give you something back that would be a 'feel good' story. Enjoy!
Oliver
Chapter 4: "She"
I walk into the nursery and find Justin rocking Oliver; he looks up at me and gives me a strange look I can’t decipher. “Bad day?”
He mumbles, “No, Olly’s been great.”
Justin never stops talking, so when he’s not forthcoming about something, I get worried. “What’s wrong?” I ask, standing behind him and pulling him so the back of his body fits against my front. I wait in silence, swaying side-to-side with him, kissing along his jaw.
He stills our movements and lets out a deep breath. “I just wonder if she’s going to want him back.”
It’s been a month since Oliver has been born and the ‘She’ he speaks of is his cousin Stephanie. “Has she said or done something that would make you think that?” Knowing Stephanie, I doubt it. I’m pretty sure these fears popped up again because he and Olly had lunch with Stephanie today; the first time she’s seen him since she gave birth.
“N...no,” he whispers and turns to face me, handing me Oliver. “She was so much more natural with him than I am. You should’ve seen her, Brian. She said she never wanted to be a mother, but she was so perfect with Olly.”
“You’re perfect with Oliver.”
“But she…”
“She never said she didn’t want to be a mother,” I remind him. “She said that she couldn’t be a parent. She can’t take him away, and I wouldn’t have ever agreed to father a child with her if I thought she ever would.”
He nods his head in affirmation and chuckles, “Guess I’m just tired, which makes me emotional.”
“Uh-huh.” Stephanie has limb-girdle muscular dystrophy and over the last couple of years it’s gotten worse. When she found out we were looking into surrogacy, she came to us and offered carry my child. I was tested, to make sure I didn’t carry the hereditary gene, and after many intense meetings dealing with both the personal and medical sides of her being our surrogate, we agreed. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s walking around, but I can tell she’s in a lot of pain.”
“She wanted to give life before it got any worse.”
“Having Oliver made it worse.”
“She’s said it a million times, if not for us, she would’ve done it for someone else.”
He smiles. “I’m glad it was us.”
“I’m sure she is too,” I say, ruffling his hair. “She’s content with her decision. Now, stop worrying and do something about that terrible smell.”
His scrunches his nose up and holds up his hands when I try to pass Oliver to him. “Your turn, Dad. I’m gonna take a nap and when I wake up I’ll be a normal, rationally thinking adult.”
“Since when have you ever been?” I tease, placing Oliver on the changing table.
“We’ll discuss that remark later…” he says, tiredly. “When I can think rationally.”
“So, we’ll never discuss that remark,” I joke and get hit in the head with a diaper as retaliation.
TBC in ----> Thanksgiving