take care of yourself

[attitude]

Every time that Faye thought she'd finally learned to accept her pregnancy in full, something came about to prove her wrong. In some ways, it felt like taking regular steps towards some blurred and as of yet uncertain destination. Telling Dean had been the first big step, one that left her feeling exposed and shaky at best, to learn that someone else was much more prepared for the changes to come than she was herself. Recognizing each symptom thereafter had been an almost painful process, one which drew out a sense of lingering paranoia. Were her aches caused by the pregnancy? Was she losing sleep because of anxiety? Was she, could she, had she— an endless myriad that never seemed to solve for itself, because some answers simply couldn't be had no matter how great the effort to root them out.

And that morning, she'd come across yet another problem: the clothes that she'd picked out for herself at the beginning of the month, skin-tight and every bit as capable of exuding confidence as the bright yellow she used to wear, were somehow too small around the waist.

Naturally, Faye knew that the changes had taken place since day one. But in some way, the baby was still a distant notion at the start. Fatigue, she could blame on the mental stress. Nausea, she could blame on poor eating habits. But a thickening of her waist felt somehow undeniable, because Faye Valentine was not one to let herself go to any extent, and her size had remained constant since she woke up in that chamber those few years ago.

Something else was changing, and still Faye felt like she was digging her heel stubbornly against all of it.

For the time being, her solution was to snag a shirt out of the several that Dean sometimes left at her place, before slipping on the loosest pair of jeans she had. Maybe she didn't look like much, but at least it masked the constant thrum of her chest as she took a deep breath, setting out for the common dining room, even if she had the lingering suspicion that her nausea would make it hard to keep anything down.


[ Dated April 20th, this is the post for anyone who knows Faye and wants to hear about baby stuff first-hand from her! ST/LT welcome, no limit, go wild. (Sorry for being slow enough to require backdating.) ]

Comments

[victorofthe65th]

It's far from the first time Finnick's been made aware of the tendency for people to disappear here. He's seen it firsthand more than a few times already, after all. But something about Faye bringing it up here, in this context, makes his blood run cold. Because Annie is just as likely to disappear as anyone else. And even if this whole island is just a construct of his own broken mind, he knows it won't feel any less devastating to lose her. Her and their baby.

Swallowing tightly, his frown deepens briefly before he forces himself to hide it. It's not going to do him any good right now. "So... what about you?" he asks instead, watching her carefully. "Are you happy?"

[attitude]

She can see the change in his countenance, although Faye isn't really sure what there is to do about it. Console him, perhaps, but all of the words feel empty as she runs them through her thoughts, unsure whether or not she has it in her to throw full weight behind them. Finnick moves on quickly enough, though, asking her that telltale question. Only because she's fond of the guy does Faye stop to actually give it some thought.

"Dean makes me happy," Faye confesses. "It might sound silly coming from yours truly, but he... really makes me feel like I can be young again, stupid again, and not have it bite me in the behind every time. Of course, this just goes to show that how you feel isn't an excuse for being anything but careful." She rested her hand briefly on her abdomen, even though there really wasn't much to be seen there.

"I think I might be happy," she concludes. "But it's not the kind of thing I like to think about. In my experience, the moment I decide I'm happy, something about it gets taken away."