unsaid [oliver]

august 2001

"I'm pregnant."

Quinn Regan's hands gripped either side of the sink, the porcelain losing its chill for how long she had been standing there. She steadied herself, staring at herself in the bathroom mirror, once again practicing the words she knew she needed to say to the man on the other side of the door. She wasn't sure how long she could stay in here, the shower running needlessly to drown out her words. "I'm... pregnant. I'm pregnant." The woman scrunched up her face, silently scolding her reflection. No matter what inflection she gave to the words, it all sounded wrong. She tried the words again, with a smile, without. Still wrong.

She really ought to have told him sooner. She hated herself for waiting.

He had been injured in his last playoff match, but Quinn had been too focused on her own match and then the subsequent victory and birthday celebrations and determining she was pregnant that she didn't find out until the following day. Of course, things would be much easier if they could just admit to other people, not just each other, that they were dating. But admit it or not, bedside at St. Mungo's was not the ideal place to tell him.

And now it was nearly a month later. She had found excuse after excuse: it would only upset the injury, it would ruin the mood, Elias would overhear from the next room, it wouldn't be obvious for at least another couple months. She grasped on tight to any reason she could think of. She didn't once consider that she was stalling because she had no idea what response she was going to receive when she finally said the words to him.

Just when, precisely, had she started caring what Oliver thought? The seeker had caught feelings, and she had caught them bad. She wasn't used to this. Could she just blame it on the jumble of pregnancy hormones? She hated admitting defeat, and somehow telling him that she was pregnant was on par with losing. Losing him. The had only been sleeping together for just over four months, calling it 'dating' even less than that, and they still hadn't gone public with their relationship. What reason did he really have to stay?

When did she start doubting how amazing she was and forgetting how lucky Oliver must be to have the honor of impregnating her?

Damn it, she was just going to tell him. Whatever he thought about it wouldn't change the fact that she was pregnant with what was sure to be an amazing baby, if her genes had anything to say about it.  Plus, she shouldn't feel bad for him getting injured. She had managed to play through all her matches without long lasting injury; even after being 'maliciously transfigured' into an Irish setter she didn't sit out for more than three days. Quinn  made eye contact with her reflection, giving herself a quick nod.

Less than a week ago, she had closed her hand around the League-winning snitch, bringing the Falcons to the top from somewhere near the middle of the standings. She could certainly say two words to Oliver Wood.

Of course, she actually did care what he thought about this whole situation, but she was psyching herself up, not unlike before any quidditch match. She would be just as successful with this as she had been with the latter half of her quidditch season. With one last sharp exhalation, Quinn stopped the shower and turned around to reenter Oliver's bedroom, not caring that leaving the bathroom after a shower fully clothed and with dry hair might raise some eyebrows. He was still sitting exactly how she had left him: propped up with a pile of pillows, shirtless, looking as surly as ever, his arm still in a splint.

The woman stopped a couple feet from the bed where he sat, knowing that being any closer would just cloud his judgement with the obvious distraction she presented him. "So," she said firmly, locking her gaze onto his unshaven yet still grossly gorgeous face. "You know how we were going to be discreet with this?" She waved her hand between the two of them to indicate the 'this' she was referring to. "We might need to reconsider that in the next six months." She paused to take a deep breath. "Because I--" she hesitated briefly, glancing up at the ceiling and throwing out the rest of her sentence: "I'm pregnant."

@Oliver Wood

His arm ached, it was hot in the apartment, Quinn was using up all the hot water, and most importantly, he had to pee.

To say that Oliver Wood had been feeling a bit surly lately? Well, that would be, and was, the biggest understatement of the bloody century. He’d been having a fair to middling season, which had done nothing to help his mood. Then, on top of a shitty season he ended up getting hurt, and not just in the ‘oh I broke a bone’ sort of way - a bit of skelegrow would have set that right. No, instead he ended up getting hit with some weird injury where his arm wouldn’t stop jerking, and swinging around like a bludger. It had been a good play, but naturally, it couldn’t have been simple.

He’d been out for somewhere around a month, and hating every minute of it. To make things worse, the mediwizards at St. Mungo’s had figured out how to get his arm to stop swinging round, but when they’d tried to magically treat the damage done by the force exerted on his arm and joints, they only found that it made things worse. So, he was stuck sitting there with his arm in a splint, having to let it heal the muggle way, and when he’d asked how long it might take for it to heal, the doctors had no answer. This made for a very cross wizard, and he’d almost been grateful for Quinn’s busy schedule, it meant that he hadn’t had to deal with her gloating too often. Had they not been kept apart, he was fairly sure he would have gone mental.

He wasn’t sure if it was because he was about as friendly as the womping willow, or if it was simply his mind over-analyzing things, but things had been off between them as of late – not that they’d been together for that long, a whole lot of four months. Under normal circumstances, Oliver might have made an effort to talk about it, to see if there wasn’t anything he could do to help fix whatever the problem was. But at present, the Puddlemere United keeper was far too wrapped up in his own misery to do anything about it other than brood.

Just as he was about to pull himself out of his nest of pillows, pillows that he was really starting to resent by the way, and see what was taking Quinn so long, the door opened, and out she came. Flicking his gaze her way, in a gesture of acknowledgement, Oliver prepared to go back to staring at the wall, wishing that he had the added entertainment value of watching the paint dry when her words caught his attention.

A small frown creased his forehead as he listened and watched her speak, his need for the bathroom forgotten. Reconsider? Six months? Was she breaking up with him? His frowned continued to deepen as his psyche continued to jump from one assumption to the next, painting a bleaker picture each time. This post season really was turning out to be shit, he decided just before the end of her sentence hit his ears. His frown dissolved into complete surprise before leaving the ex-Gryffindor speechless.

Pregnant. Pregnant? Pregnant. Quinn was pregnant.

He blinked at her stupidly, confusion and surprise still mingling on his face “You’re sure?” Oliver wasn’t sure how to feel. The idea of kids had always been nice, something tucked away for that ‘someday,’ but he hadn’t been prepared for that someday to be today. A small part of him wondered if he should ask if it was his, and before his brain could stop his mouth, the words were tumbling out “Is it mine?” Wide eyes recognized his mistake and silently wished he could take the words back, but they hung between them now. Oliver blanched and quickly threw his hands up “sorry, sorry – dumb question I know”

Shifting so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, Oliver couldn’t believe his own stupidity. Scrubbing a hand through his already unkempt hair he sighed heavily as he considered the patterns in the wooden floor beneath his feet, trying desperately to figure out how he felt, and to keep his mouth from running itself. He was sure that Quinn was probably going to murder him, walk out on him, or both, and none of those options seemed particularly promising.

"What am I gonna do? What are we gonna do?" He barely realized that he'd spoken aloud, but either way, he didn’t have any quick answers, that was for sure. As he sat there breathing and staring at the floor, not daring to meet Quinn’s eye again just yet, it occurred to him that his first reaction to hearing about the pregnancy, no the baby, - his baby - he corrected himself, was to see it as another inconvenience on top of everything else. He’d never felt any less like a Gryffindor, or a man, and more like a coward, until that moment, and it scared him. He could do better, had to do better.

Oliver made himself look back up, look at Quinn and look her in the eye. He was sure she’d be able to see the fear on his face, and maybe some of his cowardice too, but he knew then too that walking away from her, from them both, was not an option. Beyond doing or not doing the right thing, they had careers to think of, and if he walked away, it would do neither of them favors publically. Then there was the fact that he loved Quinn, he hadn’t told her that yet, but he did.
He had never realized how two words could cause such turmoil, both inward and outward. He was scared, but he could guess that Quinn hadn’t quite planned on being pregnant either. What a mess, he thought. Swallowing hard, the keeper stood shakily and closed the gap between them hoping Quinn was done being cross with him hugged her to him with his good arm, and kissed the top of her head.

“Twenty quid says it’s a boy.”

Was she sure? Was he kidding? Of course she was sure. This was a potentially relationship-ruining situation. A potentially career-ruining situation. She had checked, denied it, checked again, and then somehow managed to fit in a visit or two to St Mungo's while dodging both her training sessions and Oliver's own visits to the hospital to be checked on. Did he realize how much championship celebratory champagne she had missed out on because of this? She had even stopped drinking caffeinated tea and it was slowly but surely killing her.

But all of her surety amounted to a very small, "Yes." She waited a beat before adding, "I'm sure." She tore her gaze away from the ceiling, almost reluctantly meeting Oliver's own. Her face was growing warm, her throat getting dry, her eyes starting to sting as she told herself that this would be a very inopportune time to cry. She hadn't cried in front of him and wasn't about to let this pregnancy weaken her to the point of ruining that now.

Thankfully, Oliver's next words were enough to make her emotions swing back in the other direction. Rolling her eyes, Quinn sighed. "No, it's Elias's." Honestly, when would she have been able to find the time to sleep with anyone else? She was, whether he believed her or not, a one-man sort of woman. Since that first date with him, anyway. She shrugged off his apology and nodded in agreement, willing him to start being serious about all of this.

Relief washed over her face at the use of the word 'we'. She had been prepared to offer him an out; he didn't owe her anything. He had already done plenty. She was an independent woman. One Quinn would be enough parent for any child. Never mind that she had more family than she knew what to do with. The lack of Oliver in her life would go unnoticed by everyone but her. But he hadn't stopped at wondering what he was going to do. He wanted to know what they, together, were going to do.

She glanced back up at the ceiling, feeling that unwelcome teary feeling in her eyes that she had started growing accustomed to the past month or two, triggered by the most innocuous things: being snubbed by her cat for snuggles, seeing babies in the park, running out of her favorite food only because she had eaten it all.

Taking a deep breath, Quinn looked back to him, convincing herself that the look on his face exuded confidence. "Well," she started, her voice thin, "We're going to have a baby." She nodded, reassuring herself more than anything. The whole thing was still hard for her to grasp, and she was the person in this who was actually growing another person. She was on the brink of apologizing but she stopped herself short as Oliver stood up and closed the space between them.

She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and buried her face in his chest. She really ought to be happier about this; she figured that would all come in due time but she couldn't help but be overcome with every emotion except that one. Thankfully the man she was holding onto was terrible at reading a room and she couldn't help but laugh at his prediction. "You're on," she said, albeit a bit muffled as she tried to speak into his chest. She was one of seven children, five of whom were girls, so she was pretty confident that the odds were in her favor. Never mind that if she somehow ended up being wrong and he made her pay up, she would have the trump card of 'I just had your child' to play.

But thinking ahead like that was the wrong move. She relaxed her grip on Oliver and took a step back. Now that she had told him, she had to start considering how to tell other people. She was petite and incredibly fit, sure, but eventually she would start showing. She was in the midst of full time training for Ireland, not to mention the appearances she was scheduled to make on behalf of the Falcons, the interviews, the annual Quidditch Gala, Christmas with her parents, New Year's with her entire family. "Oh shit," she started, settling into the space on the bed that Oliver had just abandoned. "I'm going to get so fat."

She looked up at Oliver with wide eyes, disbelief on her face, a million thoughts running through her mind. "Oh my god, what if I can't fly come January?" The thought of being forced to the sidelines for something so trivial as a pregnancy had never crossed her mind. She had just won the league for the Falcons, damn it, she'd like to see them try to tell her she wasn't allowed to fly. But if she was physically incapable of staying airborne? She wasn't able to hold back her tears any longer and she buried her face in her hands, shielding her sobs from Oliver's eyes.

Quinn was crying. She never cried. Bollocks, what was he supposed to do now?! If it were any other woman other than Quinn, he would have gone for the standard gestures of comfort and reassurance, but Oliver was almost sure that that was the opposite of what Quinn would want, and he didn’t want her mad at him, not after he’d managed to avoid that only moments before. Clearing his throat awkwardly the wizard gently spun her round so she was facing him, but made no move to make her uncover her face “Quinn, January is months away, you might actually not get that fat, and third, how are we going to tell your family?” That last bit was the lesser of the important points he had made but it was a fairly apt question, seeing as the Regan family could potentially want his head on a pike, and he quite liked it where it was, attached to the rest of his body.

Bollocks. He’d never imagined having a kid would be this upsetting and difficult even before the child was born. He supposed that in some ways they did have a few more worries than most new parents did. Like the press, handling their PR people, season schedules, nannies. It made Oliver’s head spin and he wasn’t even the one having to cart around an extra person for a few months. Having given her enough time to answer his multiple questions, he offered her a few tissues, not wanting to risk invading her personal space completely just yet. “Besides, save for flying and games, we do get to call the shots with our families, the press, and our teams. And after your season, I doubt anyone is going to be letting you go, baby or not” he finished with a small chuckle.

“On a scale of one to ten, how badly do you think your dad’s going to want to hex me into oblivion?” He hadn’t necessarily planned on asking her the question so early, but like her concerns over getting fat, he didn’t want to put himself off to a bad start with the family he’d likely call his in-laws someday. Not to mention Alex, who would quite possibly throw his ass around a room when it came to things involving Quinn. “And we’ll never hear the end of it from Elias” He groaned as he continued to run through the mental list of people they would inevitably have to tell, whether they wanted to or not.

He wasn’t completely sure, but he hoped that his parents wouldn’t be too put out that they hadn’t spent some real time with the mother of their grandchild prior to their being a grandchild. Urgh. The whole mess made him sick, and equally appreciative of what Quinn was going to have to face.

Quinn knew perfectly well when January was and how far away it was, thank you very much. January happened to be when this child was due, exactly twenty-four weeks and five days from now, a not-so-minor detail that Oliver had yet to inquire about. Though maybe it was better that he didn't ask and could remain unaware of just how long she had known about this and neglected to tell him. Not that anyone could blame her, though. She sighed as she had this argument with herself once again, choosing to instead focus on his next set of words.

Not that fat. She stopped crying almost immediately, pulling her hands down so she could shoot him a look with narrowed eyes. At least he wasn't denying it? She wasn't sure if that made it okay or not, but she was ready to stop second guessing every single feeling she had in a matter of seconds.

"My family?" She had only gotten so far as telling Oliver. Alex knew, of course, but he had been there when she had found out, so it would have been sort of impossible not to tell him. And he had yet to have any sort of interaction with Oliver, negative or otherwise, since. He probably would have been the most complicated person to tell, so at least she had already taken care of that. The woman shrugged. "I don't know. Honestly." She took the proffered tissues and wiped her face, her sobbing done as quickly as it had begun. "It probably would have been easier if they had met you prior to you knocking me up but I think we'll manage." She gave him a gentle pat on his good arm and tugged at his elbow to get him to take a seat on the bed next to her.

She looked straight ahead but she took Oliver's hand in her own, lacing her fingers between his as she sighed, borderline dramatically. "I'm not worried about being fired. Just not playing. Like.. physically incapable." She used her free hand to mime a large and rounded stomach, puffing out her cheeks to paint the picture. She decided not to touch on the subject of the press or their teams yet, as she had already somewhat started coming up with a plan for all of that. Sort of.

"I think that really depends on if I hex you first, darling." Quinn gave his hand a squeeze as she smirked, wiping away a rogue tear from her cheek. She turned her head to look over at him, still offering him her smirk. "But honestly, my older sister is six months older than my parents' marriage, so I think you'll be okay. Not to mention that my dad was engaged to another woman at the time of conception, so..." She trailed off, her smirk turning into a genuine smile. There were no secrets in their family, not when they were something so juicy and were known by talkative, drinking aunts.

Quinn groaned as she leaned back across the bed, her legs still dangling over the side. "Can we just not tell Elias?" He would be so smug and proud that it was thanks to him and his wonderful matchmaking skills that this brand new life would be joining them soon. He wouldn't be wrong, of course, but that didn't mean that Quinn was about to thank him for being the indirect cause of all of this. "Maybe he just won't notice." She paused, unsure  of how to broach the next topic she had been hoping to bring up, but figured this was as good a transition as any. She sat up quickly, turning her body and pulling her feet up underneath her so she could look at Oliver properly. "Especially if you move in with me."

At Quinn’s gentle tug Oliver sat obediently on the duvet that covered the bed, listening intently as he offered her a warm smile “ I suppose you’re right.” He couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow at her next statement as he savored the warmth of her skin against his “You’re sort of preaching to the choir, love..” he teased as he held up his arm, which was encased in a sturdy white splint. Before she could get mad at him again he added “my point being that it’ll end eventually –and the greatest human ever made will be born. How can you argue with that?” He hoped he could appeal to her ego as a distraction.

He laughed heartily as she suggested that she might the one to hex him first, that was beyond true, and they both knew it, but he couldn’t let her get away with it entirely, so he quipped back “You could, that’s fair, but then who would you have to rag on about changing diapers and all that?” He was curious to see what she could come up with for an answer. Her next revelation made him feel significantly better; he liked having all of his parts attached in the right places.

“Definitely fine with not telling Elias. We’d never stop hearing about it, not even after the babe’s grown and off to work.” He dreaded even the thought of that conversation, thinking back to how Elias had reacted when he’d found out their first date had gone well, and that he’d been snooping on them the whole time. Memories aside, he knew the conversation would have to happen eventually, but they could put that off until it was unavoidable, which would probably be around the time that Quinn would start to resemble a dirigible plumb. He nodded at the suggestion “I could do that, but wouldn’t that be equally suspicious?” He pondered before shrugging,“I don’t see the harm in it I suppose.”

Then after another brief pause and a squeeze of her hand “Do you know what we’re having yet, and when?” He felt foolish for forgetting to ask the important questions before, but he was trying to make up for it now.

“At least I had nothing to do with your reason,” Quinn narrowed her eyes before softening her expression and repeating what he had just said, “But I suppose you’re right.” The greatest human ever made was nothing short of the truth, even if the baby would be half Scottish. She was counting on the Irish half of its genes to take precedence. Of course, Quinn was only half-Irish, so those Irish genes would have to work extra hard to edge out the Scottish bits.

Quinn shrugged casually, not too worried about hexing or not hexing Oliver. “It’s not like I would seriously maim you or anything. Just enough for some light encouragement.” She smirked; despite the threats, it was such a relief to hear him already talking about diaper duty when no more than ten minutes ago she was still figuring out how to tell him about everything.

She nodded quickly as he agreed with avoiding telling Elias. He might figure it out eventually, but she was completely fine with letting everything fall into place naturally. Plus, she had to continuously worry about other peoples’ feelings when they learned that they would be losing all that quality alone time with her in the next few months, and taking care of people like that was so utterly exhausting.

A look of shock found its way to her face as Oliver didn’t immediately agree to her suggestion of moving in with her. It had seemed like the only logical conclusion after he hadn’t run immediately upon hearing the news. He was either in this one hundred percent or not at all. She was about to tell him ‘never mind’ on the whole thing when he spoke up again and her expression softened. Damn, all of these feelings were getting in the way of sooo many things.

“Is that a yes, then?” She had never been near rejected for a proposal of this sort, never mind had never asked anyone to live with her in the first place, but she was fairly certain that was as close to agreement that she was going to get from him. “Doesn’t have to be soon or anything, or even in Falmouth.” London wasn’t too terrible, she supposed, and it would put her closer to her brother, after all, but these were the sorts of things they probably needed to figure out together.

She returned the squeeze of his hand with one of her own as she shrugged. “No, I don’t know what, yet,” she paused before answering the rest of his question, hoping he wouldn’t suddenly realize how far along she was and get mad for not being told sooner. “January twenty-fourth, so I imagine I’m going to be trying to fly still on January twenty-third.” She paused again, looking away at something nondescript across the room. "So I'm like three months along," she paused again, not sure if the extra half a month would really make much difference, but she stumbled into the words anyway, "And a half. Three and a half months."

“It’s a yes then” He confirmed as he grinned at her before leaning in to give her a kiss. It seemed strange to think of living with Quinn, even if they were expecting, but just like the baby itself, he hadn’t imagined moving in with anyone on such a serious level yet. He wondered how @Elias Dörfler would take it. And wondered if they’d have to tell him about the baby then. Beyond his ego getting out of control, Oliver was kind of curious to see how their friend would react.

“Could we live in the country?” He asked, somewhat hopefully. He’d spent plenty of time outside the city as a child, and it seemed like a much better option than a city, even a wizarding one. It just seemed safer in his mind, better somehow. If she said no to that request, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it would be a little disappointing. But the main thing was being together, and he knew that, and was willing to make it work, he wanted to make it work.

Oliver chuckled again when Quinn was talking about trying to fly all the way up until their baby was born, and knew that she would if she could get away with it. It dawned on him though, that as she talked about how far along she was, that she’d known for some time, and hadn’t told him. His first reaction was to be hurt, but another part of him also understood where she was coming from, that was a pretty big piece of news to share. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked curiously “Were you afraid of what I’d say or do?” He was fairly certain he knew the answers to both those questions, but it was important to talk about all the same.

It was hard not to get distracted by Oliver’s kiss, not even with all the conflicting feelings running through her mind. She nodded as he pulled away, smiling in spite of trying to take control over her emotions. The country? She could maybe be convinced, especially if they were to make these sorts of decisions while she was hormonal and easily influenced. The country wasn’t London, which was alright with her, but it wasn’t one of her other preferences either, mainly ‘by the sea’ and Dublin. But at some point she might have to make a compromise. Maybe. She could at least maybe be convinced to consider it.

“The country sounds fine, as long as we have room for flying.” She was talking about, of course, having enough room for a practice pitch, so that she could continue flying even after her managers told her not to, but the thought of having enough babies with this man to form their own quidditch team crept up on her and she couldn’t suppress another smile.

Unfortunately, Oliver was a bit better at math than she had been hoping for, and he looked a tad crestfallen. “I wouldn’t say ‘afraid’ exactly, more along the lines of ‘incredibly concerned’.” She swallowed hard, willing herself to not get emotional yet again in such a short span of time, and shrugged off any tears that were threatening to interfere. “There just wasn’t a good time. I took a test the same day you ended up in hospital, before I had even heard about your match.” She avoided the use of the word ‘injury’ or any reminder that she had won her match while he had lost hers. There would be plenty of time to gloat later. “And then the rest of playoffs,” she trailed off, not feeling the need to reiterate, yet again, the fact that she had won the league and he hadn’t. Again, proper place and the proper time, and all that.

She shrugged again, scooting herself just a bit closer to him. “It’s impossible to figure out this stuff when we hardly want to be seen together.” Quinn paused to sigh. “We’re going to have to get over that soon, I imagine.” Waiting a few more seconds, she added with a much lighter tone, “And are you aware of how a muggle pregnancy test works? It’s disgusting.” Alex had needed to convince her to go through with it once she had read the instructions.