Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Doctor Blake, please, give me some comments on the record. It will be so much better if you would let me tell your side of the story,” Rose followed Lucien around his surgery with her usual tenacity, though it seemed to be edged with a bit of desperation as well.

“Rose, there’s no version of this story that sounds good right now. I can’t very well announce my engagement to Jean in the paper. The whole bloody town knows that my wife is alive. Jean would be mortified if I went public before the divorce.”

“But the things that Edward wants to print are so much worse than an engagement pending divorce. He’s holding off for now because his father practically begged him not to take any gossip regarding the two of you to print. But you know Edward, that won’t last indefinitely. He cares very little what his father thinks. I told him I thought I could get an exclusive interview from you. There’s a chance he’d print my article, even if it isn’t as sordid as he wants, IF I could quote one or both of you.”

“Quote us saying what? That we’re engaged and living together? It doesn’t matter what we say after that, the only result will be everyone assuming that we’re sleeping together and more horrible name-calling. Only once we go public, the name-calling will be public as well, instead of whispered behind hands. It’s bad enough as it is. I won’t have people emboldened enough to say those things about Jean openly.”

“So, people assume you’re sleeping together. They’ve been assuming that for ages. It’s not as though it’s completely untrue.”

Lucien was stunned into silence, but his look said enough to let Rose know she had overstepped. He glared at her so fiercely that she took a step backwards and quickly tried to walk back her words as well.

“Doctor, I’m happy for the both of you, and I don’t think there is anything wrong with being with the person you love however you see fit.”

“How we see fit,” Lucien uttered through a clenched jaw, “is to wait until I am divorced and we are married.”

Rose couldn’t believe that the Doctor would so aggressively lie to her. He was usually so forthcoming.

“We’re completely off the record now, Doc. Hand to heart, I would never tell another living soul, but you can’t honestly expect me to believe that. I spend a lot of time here.”

“Which is exactly why you should know that Jean and I sleep in separate bedrooms on separate bloody floors of the house.” He was seething now.

“Doctor, I saw her in the hall the other night. Please trust me, there’s no need to hide it.” Rose knew she was pushing much further than was wise, but the reporter in her couldn’t accept being told something she knew wasn’t true. She was also rather hurt that he didn't think he could be honest with her about this.

“So, you saw Jean walking the halls of her own home at night and assumed that meant we were sleeping together?” Doctor Blake was baffled that someone who he considered a friend would so easily number herself among all those jumping to unfair conclusions.

“NO! Well, yes, but it was more than that. Doctor, it was quite late and she was wearing a lovely little lace nightgown and her hair and makeup were recently done.” Rose continued on, not seeing Lucien’s face shift from angry to perplexed.

“Honestly, you really don’t need to keep it from me, I…” She finally looked back at Lucien and realized what had happened, “and you didn’t know that until just now.”

Lucien shook his head slowly.

“Which means,” Rose continued, “that I interrupted Jean on probably the first and only time that she entertained the possibility of…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence, just looked sheepishly at Lucien.

He was rubbing his hand over the back of his head as he subtly nodded.

“Oh, Doctor Blake, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” Rose was mortified and wanted nothing more than to remove herself from the Blake residence as quickly as possible.

“Right, well, yes,” Lucien stumbled to form coherent sentences as he considered the implications of what Rose had revealed.

“I’ll just…why don’t you talk to Jean about the article and let me know what you decide?” Rose defaulted to the original purpose of her visit in a desperate attempt to escape.

“Hmm, yes, of course,” Lucien muttered, not hearing what she’d said.

Rose turned and walked out as fast as she could, not even bothering to say goodbye. Which was just as well, as Lucien wouldn’t have heard her anyway.

Chapter Text

Lucien went through the rest of his day almost in a trance. He saw a few patients and managed to pull himself together enough to at least give them proper treatment, but his mind wandered back to Rose’s revelation as soon as each patient left.

Jean couldn’t help but notice that he seemed rather distracted. And while that certainly wasn’t unusual, there was typically the explanation of an active investigation. As far as she knew, there were no cases that he was working on at the moment. After seeing the last patient out, Jean returned to the door of Lucien’s surgery and lingered there watching him. He still seemed completely lost in thought. He didn’t register her presence until she knocked lightly on the door frame.

He looked at her and an involuntary smile lit up his features. She had that effect on him regardless of his state of mind. Jean couldn’t stop the small smile in return as she stepped into the room.

“Did you get a case that I don’t know about?” she asked as he stood to meet her advance.

“No,” Lucien replied, a bit perplexed, “Why? Have you heard something?” He put his hand on her upper arm as he entered her space, incapable of keeping his hands off of her.

“No, you just seem a bit distracted, the way you get when you’re working a puzzle.” She returned his touch with her hand on his shoulder, laughing a bit internally at the way his penchant for needing constant physical touch seemed to have rubbed off on her. Not that she minded. The feel of him solidly under her hands made any of her concerns seem less daunting.

Lucien chuckled, “Ah yes, you do see right through me. I have been working on a bit of a puzzle, though not of the criminal variety.”

“Is it anything I can help with?” she asked, a little cautiously, wary of intruding on his thoughts.

Lucien noted her trepidation and brought his other hand to her cheek. “Jean, I don’t think there’s a puzzle in the world that wouldn’t benefit from having your keen mind turned to it. Especially this one. Why don’t we sit down and I’ll tell you?”

Jean pursed her lips to hide her growing smile at his flattering words. She then took a seat in the chair in front of Lucien’s desk as he took the one next to her.

Lucien had become so used to including her in all of his dilemmas that it was only as he sat down that he remembered the sensitive nature of what had been troubling him. He, of course, didn’t want to keep anything from her. He also didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or presume anything based on what Rose had told him. He feared that mentioning it would make her feel pressured.

His moment of hesitation didn’t escape Jean and she touched his knee lightly in encouragement. He looked up at her perfect and vulnerable face and decided in the moment to leave behind what Rose had revealed. It felt so intrusive to bring it up, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was her choice if she wanted to broach physical intimacy again. Especially if she was feeling uncertain after having her intentions discovered by an outsider.

He quickly followed Rose’s lead and defaulted to her initial reason for seeking him out, realizing as he settled on that option that he really did need to discuss it with Jean.

“I had a visit from Rose earlier today. Apparently, Edward is set on printing a scandalous article about our relationship.”

Jean sat up straighter and brought her hand to her mouth as she responded. “Oh Lucien, will it never stop?”

“I’m afraid not, my dear. The people in this town seem determined to nose into our business and Edward is too opportunistic to not take advantage. Rose suggested that we go on the record and she could write an article announcing our engagement…”

“While you’re still married?” Jean interrupted. “How would that be any better?”

“That’s precisely what I said. But Rose is convinced that her version of the story would be far less damaging than what Edward currently wants to run. I don’t know, Jean, I’m starting to think she might be right,” he sighed.

“Maybe she is,” Jean agreed quietly.

Lucien’s head raised in surprise. “Really?” He inquired, baffled that Jean would even consider it.

“It’s not as if half of the town doesn’t already know. I’ve been wearing the ring every day now, on all my errands around town. I already get dirty looks, and I can see them whispering.” She explained.

“But if we announce the engagement in the paper, I’m afraid it won’t just be whispers anymore,” he countered. “No matter how proper we’ve tried to be, it doesn’t change the fact that we’re engaged and living together. While I’m still married, no less. The names they shout won’t be pleasant.” His voice had an edge of anger to it, but he looked at her with a gentle concern. Jean thought, not for the first time, that it could not be wrong to love this man.

“It seems a shame to bear the names without the benefits of having committed the crime. Perhaps I should take the wind out of their sails and just go ahead and start sewing a scarlet ‘A’ on all my clothes,” Jean muttered, attempting a sardonic tone, but she was unable to completely conceal the hurt it brought to think of people calling her an adulteress.

Lucien reached over and grabbed both of her hands in his, unsettled by her words. “Anyone who would think that that is an appropriate label for you is utterly blind and misguided.” He saw the tears threatening to fall from her eyes and knew that even though she had decided to let people say what they might, that didn’t stop it from hurting her. He stood and pulled her up with him and into his arms. She gratefully buried her head in his chest and he placed a kiss on the top of her head while rubbing a soothing hand over her back. “I think that once we are married and some time passes, people will accept that we are meant to be and move onto the next bit of gossip.”

“Do you really believe that?” Jean said as she pulled back just enough to look at him without making him loosen his comforting grip. “Do you believe that we’re meant to be, even with all of the things that seem to be conspiring to keep us apart?”

“Oh, Jeannie, I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life,” he declared as he squeezed her tightly to him again.

“Me neither,” she whispered into his chest, though her low tone didn’t lessen the conviction behind the words. Then she took a deep breath and added, “I think we should give Rose that interview.”

“Quite right. I’ll call her tomorrow to set it up.”

Chapter Text

Lucien carefully tried to adjust himself in his bed. Jean had filled his bed with an absurd number of pillows in an attempt to make him comfortable, but he still found it difficult to find a position that allowed him to rest. It didn’t help that his mind was unsettled as well. The more he thought about the case and the past couple of weeks, the more he worried about Jean. He had been watching her silently struggle for too long. He tried to lend support when possible, but so much of what she was going through had to do with her faith and religion, and he felt terribly inadequate to help her in that regard.

He tried to be respectful of her beliefs, but it was becoming harder and harder as he watched those beliefs bring her pain and sorrow. He would do anything to be with Jean, except cause her heartache. He was beginning to worry that he was putting her into an impossible situation, and that she was making decisions that she might regret someday.

His mind once again went back to the information that Rose had revealed to him, that she had interrupted Jean en route to his room, apparently dressed for a possible romantic encounter. He had decided to refrain from telling Jean that he knew about it, but he still kept coming back to it in his mind. He was concerned that he had somehow made her believe that he needed that level of physical intimacy from her right now.

He definitely wanted it, but it was important to him to not push Jean past what was comfortable. Not only that, he still was very much aware that he was married to someone else. Even though he and Mei Lin were both ready to move on after all of their years apart, he would still feel better about taking that step once the divorce was sorted. Although, now that the divorce was indefinitely stalled, he felt his resolve on that matter slipping.

Giving up on sleep, Lucien decided that maybe reading would help take his mind off of the troubles he and Jean faced. He gingerly reached over to his nightstand for the book that he kept there. Unfortunately, his inability to twist his torso left him groping blindly for the book and he instead knocked it to the floor, along with the glass of water Jean had left there for him. Lucien winced at the racket it made, hoping it wasn’t enough to wake everybody in the house. His hopes weren’t realized as he heard multiple sets of footsteps in the hallway above him and then muttered voices. He could only assume that Charlie and Jean were discussing who would come to check on him.

Sure enough, he heard one set of footsteps coming quickly down the stairs and then towards his room, followed by a knock. Jean didn’t wait for him to answer before bursting into the room and turning on the lights.

“Lucien, is everything all right?” She was breathless and panicked, she hadn’t even bothered to put her robe on.

“Jean, yes, everything is fine. I’m so sorry, I just knocked my book and glass over.”

Jean just nodded her head solemnly as she struggled to control her breathing. She busied herself with cleaning up the mess and as she made her way to his bedside, Lucien could see unshed tears in her eyes.

“Oh, Jeannie, I’m so sorry I worried you,” he reassured her, as he tried to lift himself in his bed to go to her.

She hurried to his side to stop him, putting a gentle hand on his chest. “Oh Lucien, please stay still. I’m fine.”

Lucien gave her a crooked smile. “I told you I was a terrible patient.”

She breathed out a laugh, but her eyes still shone. Lucien put his hand on her cheek.

“I’m sorry I woke you. I promise I’m fine, just struggling a bit to sleep.”

“You didn’t wake me, I couldn’t really sleep, either,” she whispered back, covering his hand on her cheek with hers, desperate for any contact with him.

“Something haunting your dreams?” Lucien asked, drawing an incredulous look from Jean.

“You almost died,” she stated as her hand on his chest slid towards where the wound was on his left side.

Lucien said nothing, just dropped his hands to his sides and carefully pushed himself up and scooted gingerly away from Jean. She gasped at the lack of contact and stood up to try and help him.

“Lucien, what are you…”

“Shhh, Jean, come here,” he soothed as he put out his arm to invite Jean into the now empty space next to him on the bed.

“Lucien, I…”

“Jean, we’ve both had a terrible fright. Please, let me hold you. I just want to hold you,” Lucien begged, trying to convey his sincerity and complete lack of ulterior motives.

Jean really didn’t need to be begged. She quickly collapsed onto his uninjured shoulder and he gathered her up into him with his good arm, dropping a kiss at her hairline and then whispering repeated apologies into her hair.

“Lucien, I’m just glad you’re alive. No need for more apologies.”

He pulled her in even tighter. She took the opportunity to reach over and rub her hand in his beard. He smiled and turned his head to kiss her hand. She shivered, and he reached down to pull his quilt up over them. She nuzzled closer into him and slid her right leg over his, desperate to feel him against her, alive and present. She sighed deeply into his shoulder and he rubbed random patterns on her back, trying to soothe the both of them.

Jean shifted slightly, to get more comfortable, and Lucien’s hand brushed the side of her breast. She stiffened immediately and Lucien pulled his hand back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No, I know,” Jean reassured him, but she was still stiff and she pulled her leg back from his.

“Jean, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me. I would never ask you to do something you weren’t sure you wanted, but I’m worried I’ve made you feel pressured.”

“Pressured? Lucien, what would give you that impression? Have I seemed distant?”

“No, not at all. It’s just I’ve been thinking about what Rose said about seeing you that night…” Lucien froze. Apparently between the late hour, the pain medication, and his general exhaustion, he had momentarily forgotten that he never told Jean about what he’d learned from Rose.

It only took Jean a moment to work out what he was talking about and then she pushed herself up into a sitting position.

“Jean, I…”

“Rose told you?” Jean interrupted, incredulous and hurt.

“It more sort of spilled out. She assumed I knew; that it wasn’t an isolated incident.”

Jean stood quickly and Lucien reached after her, wincing at the movement.

“What must you think of me?” She uttered from behind the hand that had gone to her mouth. Once again fighting back tears.

“What must I think? Jean, I’ve never had a single negative thought about you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I made you feel like you needed to do that for me.”

She turned back around quickly to look at him, confused. “That’s not why I did it.”

“But…”

“Lucien, I ran into Rose in the hall that night because I was going after what I wanted.” She took a step toward him, but stayed out of his reach.

Lucien was speechless. He was so certain that she had felt pressured to address his physical needs. “Then why didn’t you… I mean, you could have…” He didn’t know how to ask his question without sounding presumptuous.

Jean knew where he was heading and saved him the trouble. “Rose interrupting me was a sign. She prevented me from making the same mistake twice.”

She may have answered his question of why she hadn’t tried again, but he was no less confused. “Twice? Jean, what mistakes have we made.”

Jean realized that she had painted herself into a rather difficult corner. She felt the urge to flee, knowing Lucien couldn’t very well follow her right now. But he looked so confused and concerned, and he’d convinced himself that she was uncomfortable with him. She couldn’t let it stand.

So she took a deep breath. “We haven’t made any mistakes. I have.”

Lucien looked like he was working out a particularly difficult maths problem in his head. He had no idea what she was confessing to him, and he couldn’t conceive of a world where Jean was the one of them that made serious mistakes.

The weight of what she was about to share with him was too much and she found herself sitting back down on the edge of his bed. He immediately grasped her hands, sensing her need for support and still desperately needing contact with her.

“I was pregnant. When I married Christopher.” She barely spoke it. It was almost as if it had escaped her lips without her permission.

Lucien heard it anyway, but still struggled to accept what she was saying. “But Christopher Jr. was born quite a while after you got married. I don’t…”

“There was another child,” she interrupted, wanting to get it all out as quickly as she could now that she had started. “A girl, the doctor said. But I lost her during the pregnancy.” Her voice was quivering with emotion, but she continued on. “I didn’t wait until we were married, so God took my daughter from me,” she sobbed.

Lucien’s heart broke for the woman he loved as tears now threatened to spill from his eyes as well. He tried to sit up to draw her into a hug, but was quickly reminded of his limitations. Instead, he slid his hand from Jean’s and up to her arm, gently pulling her back down towards him.

She resisted at first, old shame and guilt making her feel unworthy of comfort. But she was so tired, and he was so strong, so she slowly slid back down to be lying once again on his shoulder with his arm pulling her tightly to his side.

“Oh Jean. My sweet Jean.” He didn’t know how to soothe wounds so old and so deep. He felt the urge to tell her that it wasn’t her fault, that pregnancy didn’t work that way, but he was well acquainted with how ineffective logic was at dislodging deeply held guilt.  His heart ached for the burden she had been carrying for most of her life. He felt a pang of anger at the Church for making such a good woman feel such terrible guilt, but he knew that wasn’t helpful. He focused instead on trying to somehow communicate to Jean how truly cherished she was.

They lay in near silence, the only sounds being Jean’s shaky breaths. Lucien continued rubbing her back until her breathing evened out. He took her hand from where it was clutched near her face and coaxed her into relaxing it so he could gently kiss her fingertips. He then placed her hand over his heart, holding it securely in place with his own. He waited until they could both feel the steady rhythm of his heart and leaned his cheek to rest on the crown of her head.

“I love you, Jean Beazley,” he declared, as if it were the only truth of the universe. Jean’s breath caught as his words fluttered over her head and she felt the truth of them washing over her. Somehow, Lucien’s simple admission, even knowing her darkest secret, relieved her of the many weights she had been carrying. She twisted in his arms to place a kiss on his cheek, then settled back on his shoulder and fell asleep in the arms of the man she loved.