Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Life sure is strange, isn’t it? Sometimes life is hard and full of unexpected surprises that leave you in a no-win situation. Other times, life has amazing things to offer, the kind that has you waiting for what comes tomorrow. It was the latter for you; however, the world didn’t seem to be in your favor at all. The universe threw every brick imaginable in your face.

Growing up, you consumed every romantic cartoon Disney Channel had to offer. The stories airing on TV always promised the princesses their happily ever after. You watched so much that it made you believe you, too, would eventually find a prince who would save you from loneliness. Even as a hopeless romantic ten-year-old, you just wanted to know what it felt like to be loved and to experience a healthy relationship.

Surviving adulthood was a struggle in itself, yet you managed. Surprisingly, your love life was finally blossoming. You never imagined you would find real love, but fate led you to a generous, loving man you met at a bar party. He built up the courage to ask you out, and you accepted without hesitation.

Initially, you just wanted to test the waters. However, the more you got to know him, the deeper he drew you in. Beneath the surface, he was a genuinely good man, prompting the two of you to go on several more dates. Countless late-night talks and strolls through public gardens soon followed, and before you knew it, you were inseparable.

You truly believed it was meant to be. He was steadfast, devoted, and everything a woman could ever want, and you were unbelievably happy to call him your boyfriend. Thanks to the modest savings you had tucked away from your shifts as a barista at the local cafe and his reliable paycheck, you were both finally able to lease a humble apartment together.

It wasn't exactly the Ritz, but it was your sanctuary, and you never complained. Your boyfriend was never overly particular about what you cooked for him; all that truly mattered to him was that you went out of your way to do it.

For once, things were going perfectly. You never thought your happily ever after could crumble into pieces, but you were wrong. Unexpectedly, your lover went missing, throwing you into a state of deep panic and stress.

He was the kind of man who would never randomly disappear; the man you grew to love wouldn’t leave you just like that. Something was definitely wrong. You immediately reported him missing to the police, who tried to reassure and convince you they would do everything in their power to find him.

You clung to the hope that they would reach out with a miraculous update, but your frantic prayers went unanswered. Your heart sank as the realization hit you—life had played a cruel, unimaginable trick on you. Tears welled in your eyes every time his memory crossed your mind. Though his sudden disappearance had devastated you, you forced yourself to power through your shifts, relying on your co-worker, Carol, for much-needed comfort.

It had been four to eight weeks since he vanished, just as you began navigating your new, painful reality, the universe dealt you another shocking blow. Soon after, you found yourself battling a wave of overwhelming nausea and morning sickness.

With desperation, you decided to buy a pregnancy test to confirm your suspicion. The second the pink lines appeared—confirming the suspicion that had been blooming in your mind—a wave of calm washed over you. You weren't distraught; you were overjoyed.

This baby was a precious piece of the man you loved, the only thing he left behind other than his belongings that were still in the apartment. Looking down at the test, you made a silent vow to fiercely protect and nurture this blessing he had gifted you.

You let grief settle into the apartment, transforming it into a quiet shrine where his belongings remained untouched. His jackets still hung heavy on the hooks, and his everyday items were scattered just as he left them. You needed these tangible pieces of him to soften the sharp edges of your grief, desperate to keep his memory breathing in the space for just a little while longer.

The alarm on the bedside table blared, sitting stubbornly atop a teetering stack of books. You groaned and burrowed deeper under the comforters. Facing the morning was the last thing you wanted to do, yet you needed to throw yourself into your work to cope with your missing lover. Staying busy provided a reliable shield against the agony of longing, filling the hollow spaces of your days with a comforting sense of productivity.

Kicking the comforters aside, you dragged yourself out of bed. A sudden, violent wave of nausea forced you to clamp a hand over your mouth as you scrambled toward the bathroom. You collapsed onto the cold tile floor just as your stomach emptied into the toilet.

Gasping for air, you leaned your heavy head in your hands, pressing your palm against your throbbing, clammy forehead. “Morning sickness..is the worst,” you muttered under your breath, waiting a few moments before slowly standing up. After showering and brushing your teeth, you walked back into the bedroom. You grabbed a white button-up shirt and a pair of black pants from your drawers.

After dressing presentably, you studied your reflection in the corner mirror of the bedroom.
You gently touched your stomach; at only four to six weeks pregnant, your baby bump was not yet visible. After quickly combing through your hair, you walked into the kitchen to prepare breakfast: fried eggs, fresh orange juice, and a cold glass of water.

Grabbing your keys from off the counter top, you slung your purse over your shoulder as you slipped into your shoes by the front door. You took a glance at the two handmade pottery cups you and your lover made on a poetry date, which were resting on the shelf next to the coat rack, as you felt sadness wash over you, pulling your lips into a frown.

Shaking your head, you unlocked the front door, stepped outside, and pulled it shut behind you, locking it securely with your keys as you set off for your shift at the cafe. The crisp, biting air sent a shiver down your spine as you noticed the streets and buildings plastered with flyers.

The flyers were advertising a new circus that had just come to town—a chilling reminder of a lingering, childhood fear of clowns that you had never quite outgrown. You were off-put by the clowns' tacky wigs, red noses, and the striking application of their makeup.

“Get out of here, you weirdo!” A man's sudden, loud voice jolted you from your thoughts. Noticeable to you, a large crowd of onlookers stood still, completely glued to whatever was happening. Drawn by curiosity, you pushed through the crowd, your eyes widening at the scene. A man was violently kicking a clown on the ground.

A bright red welt bloomed across the clown's pale cheek as he silently endured the abuse and relentless yelling. “Ever since you freaks showed up, people have been disappearing! Go back to whatever hellhole you crawled out of!” A sudden wave of boiling anger washed over you. While clowns had always terrified you, the protective urge to step in overpowered your fear; you couldn't just stand by and watch this man abuse one of the circus workers.

You clenched your fist and intervened immediately, stepping in front of the defenseless circus performer. “Leave him the hell alone!” You angrily yelled at the man. “He’s done nothing wrong! He’s just doing his job! Fuck off!” The man scoffed as he muttered under his breath, "Working for the devil, maybe..."

You furrowed your brows, sparing a glance back at the clown who watched in silence, before returning your attention to the insufferable man in front of you. “If you don’t stop this nonsense, I’m going to call the police, don’t try me.” Your words only angered the man more as yelled even louder, causing you to flinch a bit. “Fuck you! Open your eyes. I hope they take you too!” The male flipped you off as he violently shoved through the crowds of people.

Once the spectacle ended and the crowd of onlookers finally dissipated, you let out a soft sigh and turned around, extending a hand to the clown. “Here, let me help you up. I'm so sorry about that asshole... I promise not everyone is like that.”

The quiet circus performer stared at your hand for a long moment, his eyes searching yours with an unreadable expression. Feeling a wave of awkwardness, you began to retract your hand, but the silent clown panicked. He quickly snatched your hand before you could pull away, allowing you to haul him off the ground.

As the tall clown loomed before you, his imposing height commanded your attention. You took in his striking appearance, noting how starkly he contrasted with the cliché circus performers sporting tacky rainbow wigs and bulbous red noses. Snapping out of your daze, you focused on the injury he had sustained.

You rummaged through your purse and pulled out a single pink bandage, extending your hand as you offered it to him. “Here you go,” you gently gestured for him to take it. “I keep a few spare bandages in my purse for situations like this... although, if it still hurts, you should definitely see a doctor.”

The clown simply nodded, the bells on his cap jingling with every movement. Rubbing your neck, your eyes drifted to the scattered flyers on the ground. You wanted to help him pick them up-your mother had always taught you to be kind to others.

Kneeling down, you gathered the papers into a neat stack. The red clown stared down at your every move. His face twisted and contorted into a lovesick expression, entirely unnoticed by you as you focused solely on collecting every last flyer.

Rising from your knees, you stood up and handed over the stack of papers. “Here you go! I have to run, though..I wouldn't want to be late for work. Good bye!” With a parting wave, you hurried off toward your job.

Behind you, the circus performer's cheeks flushed crimson. His breath caught, growing heavy as he gripped his chest. Slowly, his golden irises melted into the shape of hearts. To him, destiny itself had delivered you, and he had no intention of letting this chance to uncover everything about you slip away.