#ctmshare

[procrastinatingalways]

Next chapter of my fic with random Turnadette stories is up. This one from an outsiders perspective, Trixie! What does the interactions she has with both of them in Season 2 Ep 7 make her think. Trying to work on inner monologues of other CtM characters in prep for another fic so sorry if this is a little different.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[cooldoyouhaveaflag]

IT LIVES. 

Omg I’m so sorry this took a billion years. 

Prompt 49: “You’re so bloody (fucking) hot when you’re mad” is up! 

This one just really didn’t want to comply to Turnadette realness, so I was struggling, but I think we got there! Hope you enjoy! This one is lots of kettles, so BE WARNED. ;P 

[beatrix-franklin]

Final Memories [A Call The Midwife Fan Fiction]

Something I've definitely learned over the last year or two is that you never know whether the last time you saw someone will be the last time, a morbid thought I know and something I’m trying not to dwell on right now. But this got me thinking about Sister Evangelina's death and the character's last memories with her and wanted to explore this as it wasn’t shown on screen for all characters. This is different to anything I've written before so I hope I've done this justice. 

This explores Trixie’s, Shelagh’s and Patrick’s final memories with Sister Evanglina, but I may continue this with other character’s if it’s recieved well. 

The news of Sister Evangelina’s death sent shockwaves through the Nonnatus family. She’d slipped away in her sleep, pain free and peacefully which many found comfort in. In the days following her death Nonnatus was kept afloat by everyone’s final memories of Sister Evangelina.

For Trixie, the final time she had seen Sister Evangelina was early in the morning on the day of her death. She’d just got in from a long and tiring birth in which life teetered on the edge. She couldn’t face going to bed just yet so, in the absence of alcohol she’d trudged to the kitchen in search of Horlicks. She’d fallen asleep, slumped on the table before she’d even taken the first sip, tiredness consuming her the moment she’d sat down.

“To bed with you gal,” a voiced barked from behind her, pulling her out her slumber. “I don’t know why you Nurses have to indulge yourself with Horlicks before bed when you’re clearly too tired to even lift the kettle.”

“It’s better than indulging myself with gin,” Trixie had muttered under her breath in response, hoping Sister Evangelina hadn’t heard her, knowing it would result in another lecture, one she was too tired to face. But instead of the onslaught she expected she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, surprising her somewhat.

“You know your problem? You don’t believe in yourself enough. You’ve gone months without a drink, just because you’ve had a bad evening it doesn’t mean you have to drink yourself to sleep. You’re better than that.” Trixie had opened her mouth to question how she knew, but stopped herself, everyone knew she was the eyes and ears of Nonnatus. Instead, she grabbed her hand and whispered a quiet thanks, trying to hide the tears that had formed.  Sister Evangelina took the handkerchief from her pocket and dapped Trixie’s eyes gently.

“Now now, enough of this, you know I don’t do tears. To bed with you, you’re clearly tired enough.” Her tone was firm, but without malice, in a way that only Sister Evangelina could achieve. Trixie simply nodded in response and turned to leave but before she could Sister Evangelina took the hankie she’d just used wipe Trixie’s tears and placed it in her hands. “Just in case you need it again.” She’d said with a small smile.

When the news of Sister Evangelina’s death broke Trixie reached to her pocket and curled her fingers around the handkerchief, thumbing the corners slightly before drying her tears with it, just as Sister Evangelina had done so that morning.

-

Between Angela reaching her terrible twos, Timothy constantly needing help with his increasingly challenging schoolwork and the surgery being busier than ever, Shelagh hadn’t managed to drop by Nonnatus as often as she liked, something she now regretted as she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a proper conversation with Sister Evangelina. So, for Shelagh, her final memory of Sister Evangelina was a brief one. The last time she’d seen Sister Evangelina had been at the Tuesday clinic, a few days before her death. The clinic was busier than ever, the Nurses and Sisters were completely stretched to their limits and all were feeling the strain of the last few months. Mrs Penny had rung in sick that morning so Shelagh had no other option than to take Angela to clinic with her, hoping she would just sit quietly and play with the other children by the doll’s house. But Angela was determined not to be parted from her Mother that morning and cried every time she wasn’t by her mother’s side, constantly needing the comfort of physical contact. Shelagh had no choice but to work with her Daughter perched on her lap, if only to save the clinic from her incessant crying. The moment she saw Sister Evangelina walk into clinic she took a deep breath, preparing herself to be reprimanded, something which she didn’t have the energy for that day.

“You indulge that child too much Mrs Turner,” Sister Evangelina started, seeing no need for a customary greeting, she never saw the point in wasting time on pleasantries when there was work to be done. “Put her down so you can do your job efficiently please.” Her tone irked Shelagh and rather than letting go of Angela she held her tighter.

“She’s perfectly okay as she is Sister, I’ll be able to do my job more efficiently if she’s quietly sat on my lap and not disgruntling the other mothers by crying constantly.” Shelagh retorted through gritted teeth.

Sensing her mother’s shift in mood Angela began to stir and removed her head from the crook of her mother’s shoulder. On seeing Sister Evangelina she immediately perked up, and her drooping bottom lip was soon replaced by a gummy smile. She jumped off her mother’s knee and ran straight to the Sister, who couldn’t resist giving her a quick cuddle.

“Now who’s indulging her?” Shelagh smirked.

“I’m sure Miss Angela will be perfectly okay helping me today Mrs Turner, now get organized the mother’s will be arriving soon.” Without another word Sister Evangelina had made away to the weighing station, hand in hand with Angela. Over the course of the day Shelagh kept glancing over to where Angela stood with Sister Evangelina, smiling fondly as she watched the pair interacted. In the days following Sister Evangelina’s death Shelagh thought about that day a lot. She regretted that she’d been so short with the Sister, had she known it’d be the last time she’d see her she wouldn’t have spoke to her in the way she had,  but she couldn’t dwell on that as she knew that you can never know when you’re seeing someone for the last time.  So instead she decided to focus on that day for the joy it held and the knowledge that on that day her daughter had a final precious memory of the Sister that meant so much to her; even if her daughter was too young to remember she would ensure when she grew older she knew of that day and Sister Evangelina’s memory would forever be kept alive within the Turner household.  

-

Patrick’s final memory had also come from that day. He’d found his wife stood in the kitchen, nursing a cup of tea, giving herself five minutes away from the madness of the clinic. It was then he noticed the bags under her eyes on the way in which her shoulders slumped slightly, almost as if she no longer had the energy to keep herself upright. He made a mental note to himself to ask Timothy to babysit one night so he could take Shelagh out and give her a much-needed night off from being a Nurse and Mother and simply allow her to be his wife.

“Penny for them?” the sound Patrick’s voice pulled Shelagh out her trance.

“You’d pay twice as much not to hear them,” Patrick simply shook his head in response, he’d give every penny he had to hear Shelagh’s every thought. He quickly glanced around the small kitchen to ensure no one was about; confirming the coast was clear her pulled Shelagh into his embrace, allowing her to rest her head on his chest knowing she’d find comfort in the steady beating of his heart.

“Tough day?” he asked, placing a kiss in her hair as he did so.

“Angela won’t stop crying and I’ve had Sister Evangelina criticizing my parenting skills yet again,” she sighed.

“I’m sure she’s not criticizing you dear,” Shelagh looked up at Patrick at his words, ready to disagree with him but before she had chance he had caught her lips in a gentle kiss. “You know I’m right,”

“I need to get back to work,” she sighed “so do you.”

“Shelagh,” Patrick called as she began to walk away, she turned to look at him and his eyes conveyed everything he was about to say.

“I know,” she whispered back in response and made her way back to her desk, leaving Patrick to watch her retreating form.  Unbeknown to the couple Sister Evangelina had been watching their interaction from afar and caught Patrick as he followed his wife back to work.

“You look after her,” she told him sternly, “she’ll never admit it but she’s struggling right now, she needs you. You look after her,” she repeated, “you promise me that.”

“Sister, on our wedding day I vowed to love and protect her and I have no intention of breaking them vows. I promise you that.” Patrick replied.

“Good,” was the final word spoken by Sister Evangelina to Patrick that day. 

When he learnt of Sister Evangelina’s death, Patrick thought back to the final promise he made to her, knowing it was more poignant now. And as Shelagh broke down in his arms that evening, finally allowing herself to cry, he held her tightly as if he could hold the broken parts of her together, and prayed to the God he struggled to believe in, that Sister Evangelina could see that he would dedicate every day to fulfilling his final promise to her.

[mg-bsl381]

Learning from the Cradle

This idea has been lying dormant in my head since the end of series 6 but it suddenly erupted out of my brain with a little visual prompting.  Many thanks to @m-t-b-lover for this photoset:

https://m-t-b-lover.tumblr.com/post/164111593774/christmas-countdown-2017-135-whose-get

I’m sure after reading this little story, you will guess which photo inspired me!

I hope you like it :)

Learning from the Cradle

Shelagh had fallen asleep and Patrick could see the exhaustion written across her face.  Shelagh had been bearing the brunt of family life as a succession of complex deliveries and run-of-the-mill ailments of winter had kept Patrick constantly busy for days on end.  Angela was becoming more wilful and asserting her independence more since the arrival of her baby brother.  The combination of a determined three year old and a teenage boy with hormones off the scale did not make for a peaceful household.  Patrick felt guilty that he had left Shelagh to cope alone but her understanding of his work made it a little easier for him.  Marianne had never understood and it had caused friction between them over the years.

Patrick watched Shelagh sleep, it was something he loved to do.  A part of him still wondered how he had gone from a lonely widower struggling to juggle work and fatherhood to this life he led now.  Even in his wildest dreams he could never have imagined this.  His beloved Shelagh had brought joy and love into his life and so much more.  She loved Timothy as if he was her own but also acknowledged that he’d had another mother.  It was important to her that Timothy never forgot Marianne.  Patrick believed Shelagh would be a natural at motherhood but it was only when he saw her nurture of Angela that he understood what a special gift she had.  He had seen in the short months since Teddy’s arrival that Shelagh made no distinction at all between their three children.  Her love was total and constant for all of them.  

Baby Teddy was asleep but although he had been fed Patrick could see his son was restless.  The little boy started to stir and Patrick knew that if he cried Shelagh would be awake in moments.  He reasoned that the baby was unlikely to be hungry so Patrick carefully scooped him out of his moses basket and wrapping him in the blanket carried him to the door.  He paused just before opening the door and glanced back at the bed.  Shelagh had not stirred but he could see she was now deeply asleep.  He was just about to leave the room when his eye was caught by something.  Perfect, he thought and picked up the item, tucking it under his arm.  Taking utmost care he opened the bedroom door and closed it just as softly behind him.  

Patrick walked slowly downstairs and into the kitchen.  He made himself a cup of tea and went through to the sitting room.  He settled himself on the sofa and snuggled Teddy into his chest.  The baby was still sleeping but fidgety, so Patrick pulled the roll of paper out from under his arm.  With one had he gently shook it out and opened The Lancet at the first page.  In soft, measured tones Patrick began to read aloud.  

He was fascinated by the myriad articles he read over the next hour or so.  Advances in medicine were a source of amazement and delight to Patrick.  He was sadly now more sceptical of new drugs than he had once been.  Thalidomide was still a raw wound and one that would take many years to heal.  As he read, he remembered another night.  Reading The Lancet to soothe another baby, one whose circumstances were so different from his own child’s.  Baby Susan Mullucks had defied his expectations and clung at life with the tenacity of a limpet.  In many ways she was just like any other child but not in all.  

Teddy stirred as Patrick had paused in his reading to reflect on little Susan.  Patrick turned the page and began reading the next article that held absolutely no interest to a young baby.  Maybe not now but one day, he thought.   A son as a doctor was not just a dream but could in a few years become a reality.  Timothy had expressed such an interest a few years back when Patrick was at a very low point with his faith in his abilities as a doctor severely shaken.  His eldest son was now excelling in sciences and was looking likely to pass his upcoming exams with flying colours.  A career in medicine beckoned for Timothy but what of this little one and Angela too?  Who knows but a man could dream after all.

Patrick pulled Teddy closer to him as his eyelids started to droop.  The Lancet slipped from his fingertips as he slipped into a deep sleep.  His tea lay cooling and forgotten.  Upstairs the rest of the family slept peacefully.  

Several hours later Patrick was woken by fingers brushing his fringe off his face.  He blearily opened his eyes to see Shelagh leaning over him.  She looked so well rested that he rubbed his hand across his eyes to check he wasn’t dreaming.  A gentle kiss to his forehead proved to him that this was real as did the damp squirming bundle in his arms.  Teddy had sensed his mother’s presence or more likely her milk and was now wide awake and working himself up to ear-splitting volume.  Patrick quickly shifted over on the sofa and Shelagh settled herself next to him, unbuttoning her nightdress as she did so.  Within moments the sound of hungry suckling filled with room as Teddy settled down to a feed.  

Shelagh pushed at the abandoned copy of The Lancet with her foot and turning slightly raised an eyebrow at Patrick.  He shrugged and commented that The Lancet was the premier publication for inducing a soporific effect in a young baby.  Shelagh chuckled softly and commented on the usefulness of improving medical knowledge over counting sheep as an aid to sleep.  She thanked Patrick for his thoughtfulness in letting her get some much needed rest.  Patrick mused that maybe his nocturnal reading of The Lancet may help their tiny son in the long term but they would leave him to make his own mind up about that.  Only time would tell if learning from the cradle would be beneficial but it was certainly working with Timothy.

[snoopctm]

Finally here is Chapter 3. I haven’t forgotten this story! I’ve been working on this for a while, and now it’s ready. I expect to have maybe 2 or 3 more chapters of this, all in this “month, year” vignette style. I hope you enjoy it!

Thanks as always to everyone who reads this, and anything I write!

[kienova66]

6x02 Coda

Because who needs to do the million projects you have due in the next ten days when you can write fanfic instead?

------

He can’t seem to keep his hands off her once he knows. It’s terribly distracting, the way he comes up behind her when she’s attempting to get through cooking without gagging, just to find his hand slipping about her waist. Or when the surgery is empty save for the patients ensconced in the maternity home and he stands behind her while she puts files away, fingers hovering over her belt, pressing softly into the fabric of her apron and uniform dress. She can’t be mad, scoffing slightly through giggles as she shoves him away more often than not, cheeks flushing crimson. She’s not ready for anyone else to know their little secret quite yet, apart from her husband and Sister Julienne.

It isn’t that she doesn’t love the attention, because she does, but she’s still wrapping her mind around the new reality that she finds herself in which makes it difficult. She chastises Patrick softly one night when they’re lying in bed and he’s stroking over her abdomen in circles.

“You’re not even touching where my uterus is,” she murmurs into the dark, voice thick was exhaustion that comes from growing a new human while constantly being ill. He chuckles against her neck, pressing a sloppy kiss to her exposed collarbone as he increases the pressure on her stomach just slightly.

“I know,” he answers into the twilight. “I just figured if I moved my hand much lower you would say I was being indecent. Especially in places where anyone could walk in and see,” he smiles against her skin. She can’t help but let out a soft laugh at his reasoning, snuggling backwards until she’s pressed completely against his chest, his arm encircling her until he’s clinging to her.

“You’re ridiculous,” she mumbles, yawning as her body quickly drags her to sleep.

She wants to tell the children, unsure of how to approach it, but knowing that sooner or later they’re going to find out. She’s surprised Timothy hasn’t brought up anything yet, the boy wise beyond his years and as observant as Sherlock Holmes in the way he approaches everything. She doubts Angela will understand aside from thinking there will be a new little one to push around in her pram that she got for Christmas. Shelagh won’t have the heart to tell the girl no until the baby is actually there, knowing her instincts to protect the fragile new life will prevent her from letting her daughter play with the infant.

She says as much late one evening after he presses his hand to her belly in his office, eyes filled with so much mirth even though there’s nothing to feel beneath her clothes yet, his fingers barely grazing the fabric. She can’t help but kiss him then, knowing he’s just as excited, if not more so, than she is in some ways. She hears him chuckle for a few moments even after she leaves the room, knowing he’s picturing their son’s disgusted expression when he will inevitably contemplate how his little brother or sister came to be. She shakes her head, letting her own fingers press against her stomach as she puts some files away.

“You’re going to have a lot of people to love you little one,” she murmurs. She can’t wait until she gets to feel an answering movement from within at the words.

[alwaysmilingsam]

Some Timtrick based on the synopsis for episode 4 

[procrastinatingalways]

Here is my latest chapter of missing scenes for Turnadette, this one set in their extended engagement era. The way Patrick reacts when he notices Shelagh embroidering the baby's nightdress got me thinking that they had to have already discussed having children and led to this scene. https://archiveofourown.org/works/51840268/chapters/131526928