Friday, 17 August 2012

Susan's Tale, Part 5

Previous instalments: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4a Part 4b

The fever broke the following morning. I hadn't needed Doctor Renwick's help after all; and fortunately he'd been delayed by some more urgent case, so I didn't have to worry about awkward questions arising from an examination. When I woke I rolled over and saw David, sleeping beside me - he looked exhausted, poor dear. I propped myself up on an elbow and watched him for a while, appreciating the lines of his face while processing all the thoughts that had come to me during the night.

After a while I made my decision. I sat up, ready to try standing. A quiet voice stopped me.

"Susan?"

"Sorry, David, I didn't mean to wake you."

He reached up and stroked my cheek with his hand. "It's good to see you looking better, love. Your temperature's come down, too. How do you feel?"

I laughed. "Still a bit giddy." I lay back down and hugged him, my head against his shoulder. He was warm, and I felt safe in his arms. After a while I raised my head, and looked directly into his eyes. "David. I've got something important to say."

"Okay." He looked at me, patiently, lovingly. Suddenly I felt shy and nervous again. I sat up; so did he.

"I've been thinking about what you said, what you wanted. About children. I've never given you an answer, and I know how it's hurt you."

"There's no need -"

"No, David, listen. I... I really want to explain. There's been a couple of things stopping me properly thinking about it. One is, this didn't seem a very good place or time to start a family. But I've been remembering some of the people I met on my travels, who had children in much worse circumstances. The metaxi, for instance, who'd only just landed on a new world: they had even less to work with than we do. And the people of the Nest, who knew that many of their children would be killed before they reached maturity. Just because the future's uncertain doesn't mean we have to put life on hold! Every minute those children live adds something to the universe, and it's taken this fever to make me realise that denying someone a chance at life is no way to protect them!

"Except, well, there's something else which means that's not quite the choice we've got. The thing is, I won't be able to bear you a child. Please don't ask me to tell you how I know; I just do. But there are orphans out there, right now, who could do with a loving family. Their lives are worth living, even as they are; but I think we could make them so much better. So I guess what I'm saying is: how do you feel about adopting?"

He looked at me in astonishment. "How do I feel about it? It's a wonderful idea!" He paused, and looked worried again. "But it'll mean some big changes. Are you sure you really want it? It's not the fever making you say all this?"

I smiled. "I'm sure," I replied, and I was. That's another advantage of my background: I don't have to say things to work out if I mean them.

David nodded, thoughtfully, then laughed. "Why not?" he said - and those were the last words either of us spoke for a while.

Our lives turn on such tiny things. Ian, Barbara, David - who knows what would have happened to them if the TARDIS had taken me somewhere different, just once? And then there's you. The odds against you even being born were immense, but here you are. There are so few people I can talk to about my travels; and I suppose it won't be that long before I have to decide how much I can say to you, too. For now, though, when all you want from a conversation is the sound of my voice, you can be my confidante.

So close those eyes, my miracle baby. I'm sure you have a wonderful, full life ahead of you, however long it lasts; but right now there's nothing you need to do, except rest. Sleep well, my beautiful boy. My Alex.

THE END

Next Time:
Some notes on the writing of this story - including some information on when you'll get to read the other half of the adventure...

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