#an absolutely terrifying prospect but i can’t delay the inevitable

[danothan]

i’m in the kind of art block where it takes me 5 hrs to do a simple bust sketch bc it feels like i’m relearning how to draw, so what ends up happening is that i find myself painstakingly sculpting barry allens for half of the day and then admiring those drawings for the other half, not bc they’re any good (art block clouding my perception), but bc they are. barry <3

he could singlehandedly push me thru this block, i know he can. he has to.

[stellacolletore]

i know this much (you will never be enough) summary: Mashima Reiko is crazy, and rich, and the mother of the person she loves. note: title and blurb inspired by the film ‘crazy rich asians’ because reiko is basically eleanor

“If you’re not doing it, I will.”  

Chihaya didn’t dare breath. A single move from her and she knew—she knew Sumire will see through her threat. Her thumb was perilously close to pressing the dial button. Should Chihaya say the wrong thing, she might end up having to answer to Mrs. Pressure without any mental preparation at all.

“Wait!” She pleaded. “I’ll call tonight. Promise.”

Sumire narrowed her eyes. Assured that Chihaya was completely serious about her resolution, Sumire handed the phone back to her.

Everyone in the club room exhaled. No bomb was unnecessarily detonated this afternoon, fortunately. “Man, you’re almost as scary as Mashima-san just now, Hanano-san.” Nishida remarked, finally able to swallow the pork bun in his hand.

Sumire sighed, still exasperated. “It’s been three days since I gave Ayase-senpai Mashima-san’s number. Forgive me if I sound impatient right now, because I totally am.”

Chihaya prostrated on the tatami. “Sorry, Sumire-chan!”

“Don’t be like that, Chihaya. We understand,” Kanade patted Chihaya’s head lightly. “But Sumire is right. Mashima-kun has been sick for three days already. We’re all very worried about him, just like you are.”

Komano fixed his glasses. “And as his unofficial girlfriend, the task to check up on him falls on you.”

Chihaya exhaled in defeat. She had ran away long enough.

It was time to face the inevitable.

*

Chihaya felt like coming down with the flu herself as she searched Mashima-san's contact number on her phone directory. It was a good thing she delayed eating dinner—her stomach was in knots just thinking about finally calling Taichi's terrifying mother and asking her a favor.

"You're a Queen, Chihaya," she muttered to herself, "You can do this."

Momentarily psyched up by her pep talk, she pressed the CALL button.

Clutching her Daddy Bear to her chest, she nervously waited for the other line to pick up.

"Moshi moshi. Mashima residence."

The voice unmistakably belonged to Mashima Reiko. Chihaya instinctively froze at the recognition, failing to follow through with a greeting.

"Hello? Who's ca—"

"It's Chihaya!" she blurted. Voice slightly shaky, she chattered, "Um, this is Chihaya. Good evening, Mrs. Pre—Mashima-san."

Reiko's voice instantly turned ice cold. "Ah, Chihaya-chan. It's a pleasure to receive your call at dinnertime."

Chihaya's eyes latched on the clock. Of course she'd end up calling at an absolutely inconvenient hour. She instantly replied, "I'm so sorry! It's just—I'd like to ask if Taichi's okay..."

She could hear a disappointed sigh. "If he is still unable to message you and your friends, I believe that means he's currently unwell. Now, do you have other questions, Chihaya-chan?"

Every nerve in her body was desperately begging for her to drop the line already, but if Chihaya would back down now, she's sure Sumire would find a way to still make the request, which may make things more difficult. Steeling herself, she took the plunge. "May I come over tomorrow?"

When she was met with silence, Chihaya rambled on, "I was asked by Tsukue-kun—I mean, his classmate—to deliver the notes for the lessons he missed. And our club members bought him oranges and apples and—"

"You may come tomorrow at five. You can help me prepare dinner."

Chihaya almost choked her stuff toy. This wasn't on the plan. "Sorry?"

"I believe you have excellent hearing, Chihaya-chan. Surely I won't need to repeat myself."

Like a soldier under scrutiny by her commander, she automatically replied, "Y - yes, Ma'am."

Pacified with her answer, Reiko said, "If that is all, then I must be going back to dinner. See you tomorrow."

"Thank you for your time, Mashima-san. S - see you tomorrow."

As soon as the call disconnected, Chihaya collapsed on the bed, energy spent. A minute later she got up, exited the room, and dashed down the stairs.

"Mom! Please teach me how to cook!"

*

"Woah—is meeting Taichi's mom really that scary for you?" Nishida inquired, staring at Chihaya's bloodshot eyes. "And what happened with those?" He pointed at Chihaya's freshly bandaged fingers.

Chihaya blinked rapidly, moistening her eyes. In between yawns, she explained, "I slept late. Mrs. Pressure asked me to help her with dinner so I had to learn how to chop vegetables. Perfectly."

Nishida gave her a comforting smile, "Ganbatte, Ayase. If you survive tonight, I'll treat you with pork buns for lunch tomorrow."

Resting her head on the desk, Chihaya muttered, "Thanks, Nikuman-kun."

*

Had Chihaya been a lucid dreamer, she would've realized that the castle was simply a representation of the Mashima house, the sleeping prince was Taichi all along, and the fire breathing dragon guarding the gate was definitely Mashima Reiko. If she were, she may not have woken up with a start, embarrassing herself in the middle of Fukasaku-sensei's class.

Looking at how messed up Chihaya was, Nishida began to doubt if he'd be able to buy her pork buns the next day.

*

It's okay, Chihaya, she's not really a dragon, she inwardly declared. She pressed the doorbell with her free hand, and then sighed in relief when she found Rika peering excitedly at her from the entranceway.

"Welcome, Chihaya-chan!" Taichi's younger sister greeted. Quirking an eyebrow at her, she then questioned, "Do you want some water? You look pale."

Chihaya waved her worry away. "I'm fine."

Locating Reiko at the kitchen, Chihaya presented the basket clutched in her hand. "G - good afternoon, Mashima-san. This is from everyone in the club." She proceeded to extract Komano's papers from her bag. "And these are the notes from Tsukue-kun."

"Please extend our gratitude to them, Chihaya-chan." Reiko took the basket and began to put the fruits inside the refrigerator. "You can leave the notes on Taichi's desk later."

Chihaya's heart skipped a beat. For all the stress she had gone through in the past twenty-four hours, the prospect of actually visiting Taichi had been at the back seat on her mind, overshadowed by the daunting ordeal of dealing with Mrs. Pressure without her son's intervention. Her thoughts led her to look in the direction of Taichi's bedroom.

She had never seen Taichi this sick, and she dearly hoped she could help him recover, if only a little.

She heard Reiko clear her throat. "You may see him as soon as we finished making dinner."

Chihaya's gaze snapped back to Reiko. "H - hai."

Reiko seemed to consider something, staring at her with a surprisingly concerned expression. "Would you like to have some tea first? Your face is pale."

Chihaya slapped her cheeks in response, giving some color to them. "I'm okay!" Encouraged by the thinly-veiled worry for her wellbeing reflected in Reiko's eyes, Chihaya attempted a smile, "I'm ready."

*

Having tried her hand in kitchen work for the first time last night, Chihaya could recognize how admirable Mashima Reiko moved through the space, retrieving cooking tools from the cupboards and ingredients from the refrigerator with exceptional grace. Taichi must have inherited his poise from his mother.

Chihaya put the vegetables in the strainer and headed to the sink. "I'll wash these up, Mashima-san."

Reiko hummed in agreement. "I'll be seasoning the meat." She turned to her daughter perched on the dining table stool, happily watching over the two of them. "Go work on your homework, Rika. You have nothing to do here."

Rika started to protest. "But I wanna see—" her words were cut abruptly, and from behind her Chihaya could guess that Mrs. Pressure had given Rika her intimidating gaze.

If Mashima Reiko were karuta Queen, Chihaya was sure she'd never become a challenger. If she did, she would have to play blindfolded, just so she can avoid that look.

"Fine," Rika relented. "Ganbatte, Chihaya-chan." She proceeded to go upstairs, leaving Chihaya and Reiko alone.

Finishing her first task, Chihaya deposited the vegetables on the container next to the chopping board.

Time to show what I've practiced. She picked up a medium-sized knife and was about to slice the head of a cabbage when Reiko suddenly ordered, "Stop."

Chihaya stared at her, dumbfounded. Was she already deemed a failure? That fast?

Reiko withdrew the knife from her hands. Then she remarked. "Your fingers are hurt."

Chihaya blinked. "They're all right. I can still—"

"Take a sit over there and just watch me, Chihaya-chan," Reiko instructed, her tone clearly expressing that Chihaya have no other choice but to follow. Flustered, Chihaya merely nodded, settling on the stool Rika had previously occupied.

Reiko continued preparing the meal, making Chihaya feel more and more anxious at being utterly unhelpful each second that passed. She knew she should attempt to make small talk, but her mind can't come up with any dialogue, not even about the weather.

It was Reiko that broke the silence. "If I remember correctly, you've injured your hand once before. Was playing karuta that challenging?"

Taken aback by Reiko's recollection, Chihaya failed to filter her thoughts. "Harada-sensei trained me harder so I won't get injured like that again. I, um, got these last night chopping carrots."

As soon as the words were left hanging in the air, Chihaya bit her lip. Please don't think much about it please don't think much about it please don't—

Reiko stopped swirling the ladle in the pot. Chihaya held her breath, preparing herself for whatever it was that will come out of Mrs. Pressure's lips.

Her imagination couldn't have predicted what she had finally said. Not in a million years.

"You know, I never disliked you, Chihaya-chan." Reiko resumed her motions, "Just how early you arrived."

Even though they were merely two sentences, Chihaya couldn't begin to grasp what Mrs. Pressure was telling her.

Even without Chihaya's prompting, Reiko elaborated, "When I became a mother, I promised to myself that I will raise my child with the same standards that my parents had set for me." Having finished cooking the broth, she turned off the stove. Reaching for the box of genmaicha tea, she continued, "Fortunately, I hadn't had much trouble with Taichi. He is naturally brilliant and determined. He listens to my demands and takes on the challenges I set for him. But then one day he came home saying he wants to be good at playing this obscure game,"—Chihaya straightened up, ready for a lecture—"and it worried me, not just because it wasn't in my plans, but also because the game came from a girl that has taken more than his attention, even though he's unaware of it at the time."

Reiko poured hot water on two porcelain cups, then submerged the tea kernels in them. "Just as how my parents had given me freedom to choose the person I like, I must give the same choice to my children. But you happened to come into Taichi's life far earlier than when Oligo came into mine, and I can't help but treat you with unwarranted hostility for that." Reiko gave her a stricken smile, "But maybe it was for the better. If I had Taichi controlled for all these years, he might have been leading a broken life by now." She slid one cup towards Chihaya. "I suppose I owe you both an apology and my thanks, Chihaya-chan."

Unable to completely digest the sudden disclosure from Reiko, Chihaya could only refute her last statement. "That's not true! Taichi is the person he is right now because of your efforts, Mashima-san." Chihaya recalled a moment from way back their first team tournament as a seven-membered club. She relayed the details of the event to her, narrating how Taichi had uncharacteristically snapped at Tsukuba for arguing with the word 'but' all over his sentences, declaring that a man has no use for the word. Chihaya had then commented how Reiko's strictness with Taichi had disciplined him, allowing him to become strong in his own way.

This time it was Reiko who was rendered speechless. Chihaya sipped the tea, finding her nerves settling. After finishing her cup, she shyly ventured, "If you will, I'd like to take up Taichi's dinner with the notes now, Mashima-san."

Composing herself, Reiko nodded, then started assembling the food.

*

She found Taichi covered under layers of blankets when she entered his room. Setting the tray on the study desk, Chihay tiptoed towards his huddled figure.

She rested a hand on his arm, finding it awfully warm. "Passing Todai must've been so hard, ne, Taichi?" She swapped the dry towelette for a cool one, setting it on his forehead. Feeling the sudden chill, Taichi stirred. His amber eyes connected with Chihaya's, and he muttered weakly, "Now I'm delirious."

Chihaya chuckled, placing a hand on his cheek. "Not yet. I'm real."

Taichi sounded genuinely lost when he insisted, "You can't be. You'd have to get past my Mom to be here, and you're terrified of her."

Chihaya perked up, "About that..." she decided against telling him about her upgraded relationship with Mrs. Pressure. Taichi would be more convinced that he was hallucinating if she did. Instead, she took his hand. "Everyone was worried about you. Please get well soon, Taichi. I missed beating you in matches."

Taichi grinned mischievously, "You could leave out the beating at matches part."

Chihaya felt her face warm. "Fine, just because you're sick this time. I missed you, Taichi."

Satisfied at her admission, and perhaps still feeling very much unwell, Taichi began to drift off again. Checking her wristwatch, Chihaya noted that there was still an hour before he had to take his medicine.

Reaching up to gently caress his head, Chihaya found herself narrating, "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful prince who was stuck in a castle. There was a big, fire breathing dragon at the gates and everyone in the land was afraid of her. It turns out, the dragon wasn't bad at all, and so when the princess..."

[welllpthisishappening]

Of Babies and Hockey Mascots

It had been a very long time since the mascot of the Philadelphia Flyers had made Matthew Jones want to scream in fear. He was, after all, a grown man. But being a grown man also meant seeing other adults in his life have kids. And Roland had always been very popular in Philadelphia.

------

This was/is and continues to be exceptionally self-indulgent next gen Blue Line hockey fic. Because life is life and good things happen in this universe. Also because I write them that way. So, here’s like almost 4K of Matt Jones, his girlfriend, his parents and both Roland and Henry ragging on Matt Jones for being terrified of Gritty. And the Rangers play hockey tomorrow. So.

This one goes out directly to @shireness-says for being an absolute, goddamn delight at all times. Also, also @optomisticgirl for constantly letting me bounce ideas off her, @stealing-vengence because I didn’t have these words to send last night and @distant-rose just for, like, existing. 

This is the video mentioned in the story.

------

“Babe.”

Matt didn’t answer. 

“Babe.”

Nothing. If he didn’t answer, then Claire would definitely go back to sleep and it was stupid and petulant and—“Babe,” she said, that one sounding less like an endearment and more like the audible and understandable sound of middle-of-the-night frustration. She jabbed him in the ribs. 

Matt groaned. 

“Answer your phone, Matthew.”

He hissed in a breath, burying his face into the pillow like that would make the phone stop, but that was a pipe dream and Claire’s nails absolutely left marks on his skin when she scratched down his side. 

“I got it, I got it, I—“ 

The phone fell on the floor. 

“Oh my God,” Claire grumbled. 

None of Matt’s muscles appreciated when he leaned over the side of the bed, fingers scrambling for a phone that was somehow still ringing and sounded as if it were getting louder with each passing second and—

“Someone better be dead,” he growled, barely moving his thumb away from the screen after he swiped before lifting it to his ear. 

He hadn’t checked who was calling. 

That was definitely his first mistake.

Well, second. Maybe third, actually. 

He’d gotten hit pretty hard after that turnover in the zone and he should have just started shutting his phone off at night. Like several dozen years earlier. So those probably took precedence. 

And the tongue click on the other end made it blatantly obvious who it was anyway. 

“No one is dead,” Dad said. “That’s kind of the whole point of this call, actually.”

Matt blinked. Once, twice, three times, probably to match up with the number of mistakes and—he would absolutely blame whatever time it actually was for how long it took him to realize what was going on. 

“Oh, shit.”

Dad sighed. And it sounded like Mom laughed. 

It must have been nearly three in the morning. 

“Got there, huh?” Dad asked. “That was a good pass in the third, by the way. Almost made up for the turnover and—“

“—You do not get to critique my turnovers right now. It is the middle of the night and that was just like…your greatest weakness and—“

“—And not really the point,” Mom called, what sounded like the couch creaking in the background and they must have been in the living room. Waiting. Or something that sounded a little more familial and far less menacing. 

“It’s not really the point,” Dad admitted, voice turning a little repentant. “But it was a really good pass, the legend of the wrists continues—“

Mom sounded like she was growling. 

There was a quiet scuffle on the other end of the phone, Claire’s laugh working its way under Matt’s skin when she pressed her head into the curve of his shoulder, reaching a hand up to brush away far-too-long curls because they were in the middle of a playoff run and he desperately needed to go back to sleep, but—

“It’s a boy,” Mom announced, and of all the very sore muscles that made up Matt’s current bodily structure, he hadn’t ever really expected his cheeks to ache quite that much. 

Or so suddenly. 

Smiling like an idiot would do that though. 

“Oh, shit.”

“Mattie, you can’t keep saying that over and over. It’s just—it’s not the world’s best reaction.”

“I know, I know, I just—a boy, for real?”

“You knew that,” Claire mumbled, nosing at his collarbone and he could feel her smile too. His stomach felt like it had thrown into his throat. 

“Yeah, I know I did, I just—“

“—Used up all those well-thought out responses in post, huh?” Mom asked, and maybe they were all just smiling like idiots. That made him feel a little better. 

It had been a really good pass. 

“Something like that,” Matt muttered. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging lightly as if that would wake him up, but the prospect of Roland and Lizzie’s kid had already done a pretty good job of that and Claire only gasped softly when he pulled her up with him. “Is everything—I mean, everything went ok, right? No one’s—“

“Everyone’s fine, kid,” Dad said, clearly on speaker now and that was probably for the best. “Except maybe Liam who—“

“—According to El, snapped at several different orderlies, demanded hourly updates from the nurse and—“

“—Wait, wait,” Matt interrupted. “Hourly? This was a multiple hours thing? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Nothing.

Huh. That was annoying. 

“Well,” he prompted, “the resounding echo of your own silence is pretty deafening. Who else was there? Why didn’t Rol call?”

“Presumably because he’s staring at his kid like they’re the greatest thing in the entire world,” Dad said reasonably. 

Matt slumped against the pillows. “I’m going to blame the turnover. For, you know—being a dick.”

“Matthew!’

“Mom, you don’t get to ground me anymore, I just—“

“—Henry was there,” Dad finished. “He’d been planning on coming back here, but something about fate or whatever and he got delayed in Atlanta, so he rerouted to Philly and from what Gina said, he was the only rational one and Rol kept walking in and out of the room. Rumor has it there was quite a lot of pinching the bridge of his nose.”

“He does that when he gets nervous.”

“I can’t imagine why he’d feel that way in this scenario.”

“But everything’s ok, right? I mean—with Lizzie and Rol, the nose thing aside and—“

“That’s very normal,” Mom mumbled, another telltale tongue click from Dad and Claire kissed Matt’s shoulder that time. “Some would say even calm compared to other reactions.”

“This is not an answer to my question, just sly jabs at Dad for being a freak and—“

“—I will absolutely ground you, Matthew,” Dad cut in, a distinct lack of any actual frustration. “Also, today is not the season-opener. So, I can’t see how the two situations are even remotely comparable.”

Matt hummed. 

Claire might have mumbled something that sounded a hell of a lot like this family is crazy, which—well, fair. 

“And,” Mom continued, “I wasn’t really being sly about it. I thought that was a pretty obvious commentary on Dad’s nerves.”

“A name, Mom. Does the kid have a name?”

She hissed in a breath. 

And Matt waited. Or, tried. Doing his best to temper his impatience because he was only a little annoyed Henry had been there when he hadn’t and that was absolutely insane. 

Seriously, it was all that turnover’s fault. 

He hoped Roland hadn’t seen that. 

He’d never hear the end of it. 

“Mom. Do I have to guess? I’m not going to be able to guess, I—“

“Noah Miller Locksley,” she finished, and Matt nearly dropped the phone again. 

He swallowed. More than once, tongue darting between suddenly dry lips because he’d started breathing through his mouth at some point, the way his eyes falling shut having nothing to do with how utterly and completely exhausted he was. 

“Oh shit,” Claire whispered. “That’s good.”

Matt made another noise — something he was only vaguely hopeful sounded like an agreement. “Did Aunt Gina cry?”

“She absolutely wept according to several reliable sources,” Dad answered. 

“Were those all just Henry?”

“And El. Who told me this while crying rather hard.”

“God, that’s so stupid.”

“In the realm of exceptionally stupid, yeah.”

“Idiot,” Claire mumbled, and it might have just been a trick of the minimal light in their room, but Matt would have sworn her eyes had gone a bit glossy too. He blinked several times. 

So as not to also be accused of idiocy.

And Matt’s phone buzzed in his hand. 

“There it is,” Mom muttered fondly, Matt’s hand shaking when he glanced down at the screen and a group text that was very active for the middle of the night. 

Roland Locksley, 2:47 a.m. :: image attached ::

Noah Miller Locksley. Ten fingers, ten toes. Seven pounds, eight ounces. Far more hair than expected, which we assume means he’s some kind of super baby. 

Do not send us hockey sticks, I will punch you all in the face. 

Matt scoffed, a quick sniffle and tears on his cheeks that he hadn’t really planned on, but seemed pretty inevitable for the parents of a kid who had absolutely fought over who got to use him on their side of the aisle at their wedding. 

Claire kissed his cheek. 

He didn’t read the rest of the messages — Peggy sending at least ten in a row and Chris’ didn’t look like much more than the same gif of Roland celebrating a playoff goal four seasons before, Leo’s all just several lines of exclamation points — tugging the phone back up to his ear and his own parents were definitely smiling. 

Beaming, probably. 

“I’m going to buy that kid so much team-branded merch,” Matt said. “All blue. Only blue.”

Dad chuckled. “I’m sure Roland will genuinely appreciate that.”

“How many hats do you think one hospital goes through with its baby population every day?”

“This is why you answer the questions and don’t ask them, kid.”

“That’s a serious question.”

“Make sure you ask Lizzie that later.”

“Don’t ask Lizzie that later,” Mom countered, and the couch made another noise. “And it really was a good pass in the third.”

“Ah ha! I thought you said that wasn’t the point of the conversation!”

“I mean—not a huge point, but definitely a sidebar and,” her voice dropped low like there wasn’t another person sitting directly next to her, “Dad nearly destroyed the chair when he jumped out of it. So.”

“So?”

“So,” Mom echoed. “Something paternal.”

“Yuh huh.”

“Go back to sleep, Mattie.”

“Sure thing, Mom.”

She one-hundred percent narrowed her eyes at the air in front of her, several dozen blocks away, but Matt still wasn’t all that worried about getting grounded and the small flutter of feeling in the pit of his stomach didn’t disappear when he woke up the next morning. 

He only checked one of his text messages. 

Dad, 8:15 a.m. The chair would have deserved to get wrecked in celebration of that pass. I’m proud of you, kid.

Matt, 8:17 a.m. Something, something, you’ve got a pretty solid head start on best dad. 

Don’t tell Henry I said that. 

Dad, 8:18 a.m. The something really made the message. I will not tell Henry. 

And it all probably would have been fine — more photos of Noah while he was sleeping and being held and the group text had several thoughts on Roland’s technique when Lizzie sent a video of him rocking their kid back and forth in the middle of the hospital room. But then that same video got several gazillion retweets and likes and Matt had to go to film and skate and he didn’t really forget, but—

“Christ, Jones, is your phone going to explode?”

Matt shook his hair away from his eyes, tossing his practice jersey into the hamper a few feet away and it was a legitimate question. The stupid thing was buzzing and ringing at the same time, wobbling precariously on the top shelf of his locker, like it was getting ready to take flight.

He really needed to start checking who was calling before he answered the phone. Because Henry was already talking. 

On video. 

“Matt, Matt, Matt, listen, I need you to not check the group text and—“

“—Wait, what? Why do you sound like you’re out of breath?”

“Are you in the locker room?”

“I am in the middle of a series. I have skate and I need to go to PT and—“

“—Go in the hallway.”

“What?”

“The hallway,” Henry repeated, sounding as if he were issuing declarations or possibly grounding his own kids and Matt was twenty-nine. He needed to stop thinking about getting grounded so much. “Now.”

Matt widened his eyes, but Henry’s expression didn’t change, clearly tucked in the corner of a hospital with particularly aggressive overhead lighting. 

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled. It only took a few moments, not bothering to grab his sandals when he hadn’t even had time to take his socks off yet, slumping down the wall almost as soon as the sounds from the locker room dimmed behind him. “You look like you’re about to tell me that they’re taking away my assist from last night.”

“That was a ridiculous pass.”

“Ridiculous here, meaning—“

“Good, obviously,” Henry sighed, an obviously exhausted hand running over his face. 

“You sleep at all, old man? Where are your kids?”

“At my apartment? With my wife? What kind of question is that?”

“You’re really stressing me out.”

“Did you look at the group text yet?”

Matt shook his head slowly, some of that pleasant fluttering and general good that had made it easier to skate on such sore muscles disappearing. “I get the feeling I should have, though.”

“No, that’s—Matt, that’s the point. I—ok—“

The footsteps that moved down the hallway in a hospital with particularly aggressive overhead lighting in Philadelphia, weren’t all that loud — presumably because he hadn’t gotten much sleep what with having a baby to take care of, but then Matt also felt kind of bad about referring to Noah solely as a baby less than twenty-four hours after he’d been born and Roland looked torn between hysterics and…mostly hysterics. 

“Are you kidding me, Matthew?” he balked, sliding down next to Henry slowly enough that it took several moments for him to find his way into the phone frame. 

Matt arched an eyebrow. 

Henry sighed. 

“Seriously, why wasn’t this something I knew about?”

“Should you be out here? Shouldn’t you be like—I don’t know, documenting Noah’s every move or making sure Lizzie is—”

“—Lizzie told him to come out here for reasons we’ll get to that are not my fault,” Henry finished. 

Matt’s eyebrows could not get higher. 

And Roland rolled his eyes. “Ok, well, thanks for that vote of father-like confidence—“

“I’m not your father, Locksley, that sentence didn’t even make sense.”

“You want to acknowledge how cute my kid is…or?”

“Obviously,” Matt snapped, a weird counterbalance to the way the ends of his mouth tugged up. “He’s a super cute kid. I’m going to buy you twenty hockey sticks that are all legit, pro size.”

“I’m already kind of annoyed with you, so that’s not helping.”

“What could you possibly have to be annoyed with? Aren’t you just, I don’t know, buoyed by emotion and those father-like feelings?”

“Good use of the word buoyed,” Henry mumbled, Matt’s eyes flickering his direction. He still looked a little nervous. 

“What’s going on? I feel like I’m missing something.”

“Nah uh,” Roland objected, “you’re the one holding out on us, Matthew. It’s—how do you even play here?”

Matt tilted his head. The fluttering was gone completely, replaced by something that felt like entirely unwelcome dread and he nearly yanked several pieces of hair out of his head when he ran his fingers through it. 

Henry grimaced. 

“This is not my fault.”

“So you’ve mentioned.”

“I never told.”

“Yuh huh.”

“But, uh—ok, are you by yourself? Because…just maybe look at the group text and see what this stupid team did.”

Roland had to put his hand over his mouth. Presumably so he wouldn’t disturb the other babies. With his laughter. 

Matt wondered how long they were required to wear hats.

And it only took a few scrolls back for Roland to find it, brandishing his screen towards Henry’s — the whole phone call almost understandable because Chris had posted the video and he didn’t know, no one really knew, it was a stupid, childlike fear that he’d absolute, positively, shaken as a grown man with a very serious girlfriend he was really considering proposing to at some point and—

“Oh, fuck,” Matt gasped, pushing his arm out like that would stop the video from playing or the goddamn Flyers mascot from moving around so much in said video. 

Roland snickered. 

Matt squeezed his eyes shut, whatever filler music the Flyers had used in the video sounding impossibly loud. As if it were heightened by his fear 

Of goddamn Gritty. 

He was decorating a locker — streamers and balloons, every move making his stupid eyes rattle around because the eyes hadn’t changed in years and Matt still hated him with every fiber of his being. As if there were totally normal. 

The video didn’t end. 

It seemed to last forever, Gritty glancing back at the camera every few seconds — presumably just to remind Matt that his eyes defied the laws of gravity — but then the locker was decorated and the sign said Welcome Baby, Locksley and Matt could not remember the last time he took a deep breath. 

Roland had given up on trying to hide his laugh. 

“Why did that happen?” Matt hissed, rolling his shoulders like that would make him look more adult or less terrified of another grown adult in a costume. “You’re not even on this team anymore. You are—“

“—A beloved alum, it seems,” Roland alum. “Oh Captain, my captain and all that.”

“Isn’t he dead in that poem?”

“Honestly?”

Matt glanced at Henry, the color in his cheeks nothing do with embarrassment and more with Gritty. “This has taken a pretty morbid turn, don’t you think?”

“Why is the mascot decorating a locker that isn’t yours, Rol?” Matt demanded. 

“I’m very popular on this team. Still, or whatever. Plus, you know—the kid is exceptionally cute.”

“God, that’s not fair.”

“Say the kid is cute, Matthew.”

“Obviously I think the kid is cute. God, you are so annoying.”

“Tired,” Henry amended. “He’s tired.”

Roland nodded. “That too. And maybe a little delirious on like—I don’t know, joy? Is that lame?”

“Yes,” Matt nodded “But nice too. Dad said Gina cried.”

“Wept. Seriously. Shoulders shaking, sniffles. It was not dignified at all. Made the whole thing.”

“You’re a giant freak, you know that?”

“Lizzie’s going to call you later, she’s got—“

More footsteps. Those ones with a distinct squeak that came from those very specific shoes nurses wore and the woman smiled when she noticed both Henry and Roland. 

On the floor. 

“Mrs. Locksley is awake again,” the nurse said, “and, uh—well, she’d like to know why you didn’t wake her up if you were going to—“ Roland’s eyes widened. And Matt laughed that time. 

“She wants to know why they’re ragging me about the video without her, isn’t she?” he asked. 

The nurse nodded. 

“Maybe I should just ask her to marry me again,” Roland mused. “That’s romantic, right?”

“I mean the kid was a pretty good sign that you were into your own wife, honestly.”

“True, true, c’mon. I bet she’s got scathing opinions.”

She did. For several straight minutes, a gurgling Noah resting across her chest and that didn’t do much to stop Lizzie’s right hand from flying through the air while she talked. 

Matt chewed on his lower lip. 

“What I can’t understand,” Roland mused, slumped in one of the few chairs the hospital room seemed to offer, “is why we didn’t know you were so terrified of the mascot? You play here all the time.”

“Never came up.”

“Matt.”

“What? When would I have told you that? And would that not have ended with you trying to get me to run into the stupid thing every time was at Wells Fargo?”

“Eh, yeah, that’s probably true.”

“It’s one-hundred percent true,” Henry said. 

“And how did you know, exactly?”

“Oh, I’ve known forever. Matt was—I don’t know, little, little. Like a baby and Killian was on the road in Philly and he lost his mind when Gritty came on TV. Just one of those fundamental fears, I guess.”

“Is that a thing?”

“See,” Matt challenged, “we shouldn’t be talking about that stupid monster because then you’re going to mess your kid up after less than a day.”

Lizzie glared at him. “You’re a jerk.”

“I’m only going to buy you Rangers gear.”

“Please, you’re going to take it from the team store.”

“Eh, column A, column B.”

“Still stealing,” Roland muttered, head lolling back. 

“Whatever. Go to sleep. I’ve got to go back to the locker room and acknowledge PT and—“

“—A will yell at you if you blow that off,” Lizzie interrupted, her own eyelashes fluttering and Henry was already moving towards the door. “Just, you know, on principle.”

“I know, that’s why I’m trying to end this conversation with you.”

“Charmer.”

“Mmhm, hey you want to know a secret?”

Lizzie cracked open one eye. Noah was definitely already asleep. And still as cute as ever. “Did you cry?”

“How’d you know that?”

“Please,” she scoffed. “I know everything about you.”

“You did not know about Gritty.”

“I knew there was a reason you hated being on the ice for too long during warmups here. And it wasn’t that hard to put two and two together. Who do you think told Henry the message was in the group chat?”

“You were reading the group chat?”

“It was a genuinely insane pass last night. You guys going to win tomorrow?”

“An attempt will certainly be made.”

Lizzie laughed, soft and obviously exhausted, a heaviness to her that hadn’t been there before, but wasn’t altogether bad. Almost like she was more…something. Good. Protective. Maybe even understanding. 

“I will probably fall asleep during the game,” she warned. 

“Ah, well, you did just have a kid, so…”

“Exactly.”

A voice called for him from the other end of the hall, one side of Lizzie’s mouth ticking up when she slumped further into the hospital bed. “Score the kid a goal, huh?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He did. In the third period. A quick stick and impossibly fast wrists, no mascot in New York to terrorize infants and Matt grinned when Claire found him outside the locker room later that night, a bag with a Rangers onesie clutched in her hand.  

[nekoabi]

On the Verge of a Heartbreak - Chapter 26

Time for some double dating shenanigans!

Pairings: Moxiety, OC/OC Words: 4011 (oops) Warnings: High levels of anxiety, food mention. If there’s anything else, let me know!

Summary: Double dating at the theme park.

Virgil was an absolute mess the night before the theme park double date. He was still utterly scared at the prospect of being forced onto rollercoasters that would terrify him even more than he already thought they would, which would then cause him to look extremely childish, which would then cause Abigal to laugh and treat him like a little baby, and would cause Reggie to suggest they leave him behind with the child day care if he couldn’t handle something so easy, and would cause Patton to then see that Virgil was absolutely not the person he thought he was and then Patton would leave him and ditch him forever because he couldn’t handle rollercoasters!

The teenager groaned and rolled over, crushing his face into his pillow, hiding from the morning light that was trying so hard to enter his room through his closed, blackout curtains. “It’s official. I am going to die alone.”

“What’s got you all upset, honey? I thought you’d be excited to go out with your friends today.” His mother had entered his room almost silently and the sound of her voice startled Virgil a little bit. He caught his breath as she walked over to the curtains and pulled them open.

As the morning light was finally allowed to shine into the room, Virgil groaned again, shoving his face further into the pillow, “Mom… Why are you in my room…?” He mumbled into the pillow.

There was a soft laugh before Virgil felt weight being added to the edge of his mattress and a hand coming to rest on his back, “I wanted to make sure you were getting up in time, sweetheart. Please, tell me what’s wrong?”

Virgil sighed heavily and sat up, leaving the covers pooling around his waist as he leant against the headboard. He talked about what he’d seen on the website for the theme park and how he felt about it all, how many of his thoughts had spiralled over the last couple of days as the time got closer, how he wasn’t sure how to bring this up after Patton was so excited for it.

“Oh honey…” His mom said, moving closer to wrap him in a loose hug, “Patton would understand and so would your other friends. I know it must be hard for you to open up to them about these things, but I think you should at least let Patton know.”

“I can’t.” Virgil muttered, his face buried against his mother’s shoulder, “Patton would stop himself doing things he wanted to do if I told him… That’s not fair on him…”

His mom pulled away and brushed his hair away from his face, “Well, I just want you to promise me that you won’t push yourself too hard today, okay?” She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead when he quietly agreed to her statement before she got up and headed to the door, “Get up and dressed quickly so you can have some breakfast before you go.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “Okay mom. Be down in a little bit.”

It took him much more time to get ready that morning than usual as he still was trying to delay the inevitable. He spent far longer picking out his outfit, changing his mind several times before deciding, he redid his makeup at least four times to make sure it was ‘perfect’, he triple checked that he had all the things he needed in his pockets before even thinking about reaching for the door handle. Virgil looked aimlessly around his room, as if searching for one more thing to try and occupy his time before he finally left his bedroom.

Virgil trudged down the stairs at a sluggish pace, his brain racing at almost three times the speed of that trying to think of excuses he could use – not that he’d actually use any of them and leave Patton on his own like that. Eventually, he reached the kitchen and slipped into the free chair next to the door, across from his mom, who smiled at him warmly before going back to reading the article she was deep into.

His dad placed a plate with some toast in front of him along with a drink, ruffling his son’s hair as he took seat in the final chair, “So, worried about today, huh?”

Virgil shot a look over to his mother, who simply ignored it but took an extended and loud sip from her morning coffee to hide the small smile, “Thanks mom.”

Jason laughed, “You’ll be fine. There are lots of different things to do at theme parks that don’t involve rollercoasters and thrill rides. Everyone has different things they want to do, so they’ll listen to you, especially if they’re your friends and if they’re Patton.”

The teenager let out a deep breath, “But I don’t want to force anyone to do anything… or have them think I’m a huge wimp or a baby…”

His dad’s face turned serious, “If they think that and make fun of you for it, then they’re not very good friends, Virgil.” Neither said another word as Virgil began to finally eat through the toast in front of him.

Virgil knew that both his parents were right, but it was hard to believe when his thoughts were so fixated on being loud and obnoxious about all the insecurities he had. He needed to just keep their words in mind and trust his friends. He did trust them, especially Patton.

As he thought that, there was a knock at the door that had Virgil’s heartrate doubling.

“That must be Patton. I’ll get it, you just finish eating.” Jason patted his son’s shoulder in a way to silently tell him that it was okay if he couldn’t. Virgil nibbled and took small bites as he heard the front door opening and the sudden cheery voice of his boyfriend.

‘Everything will be fine.’ Virgil chanted in his head. He stood up, leaving his breakfast half finished. He downed the last of the drink he’d been given before stepping out into the living room.

“Hi Virgil! Are you excited?” Patton asked, immediately running towards him and grabbing a hold of his hands. He was bouncing up and down on his toes, being utterly adorable in every way. Virgil couldn’t destroy that.

“Uh, yeah, totally. So excited.” Virgil plastered on a fake smile.

For a brief moment, it seemed like Patton was concerned about Virgil’s response, but he must have imagined the sudden expression change as Patton was still excitable and bouncy when he left his side.

Virgil got the disappointed Dad look when he slipped out of the car later, but he attempted to ignore the guilt that rose up in his stomach when he saw it. “Have a good time, boys! Let me know when you two would like to be picked up!” Jason called out of the window before driving out of the car park outside the theme park.

The two teenagers headed towards the front gates, looking around to see if they could spot their other friends that were supposed to be meeting them there. As they reached the pavement just outside, Patton’s phone started to ring. He fished it out of the bag he had slung over his body and picked it up, “Hello?”

“Hi Pat! So so so sorry! We’re running a little bit late! We’ll be there as soon as we can!” Abigal’s voice came through the speaker, loud enough for Virgil to hear it from where he was standing.

Patton giggled, seemingly having expected this turn of events, “It’s okay! See you soon.” With that, he hung up and turned to Virgil with a large sunny grin, “I guess you heard that?”

Virgil let out a soft breath of laughter, “Yup. Guess we’ll be out here for a little bit.”

They both moved closer to the wall, standing in a small part that was free of posters or gates. Patton was making light conversation, while Virgil pulled out his phone and was scrolling through social media at the same time. It didn’t exactly register to him, but his nerves had died down quite a bit. It was almost as if just being around Patton calmed him down.

As he was thinking about the boy, Virgil turned and looked at his boyfriend. He was suddenly struck with how odd they must look to some outside observers. Virgil leaning up against the wall casually in his ripped jeans, emo band hoodie and dark makeup, black headphones dangling from the shirt collar as he scrolled through his phone that had a self-made MCR phone case, while Patton stood next to him, looking extremely innocent by comparison. He was stood just in front of the wall, rather than leaning against it, which allowed for the pastel-coloured skirt he was wearing to flow in the soft breeze along with the bright shirt that had some sort of motivational saying on it that made Virgil almost puke at the thought – he’d had way too many of those back with an old therapist. His hair was pinned back with a simple butterfly clip and was looking all around extremely approachable.

Two completely opposite looking human beings not just standing next to each other, but clearly being close. At one point in the conversation, Patton moved closer and grabbed a hold of Virgil’s hand, swinging it lightly and looking entirely smitten with the dark emo. It made Virgil smile, because he knew he must look the same.

“PATTON! VIRGIL!” A loud shout and the sound of someone running broke their little moment as both of them turned to see Abigal coming towards them at full speed. She skidded to a halt just in front of them and panted, “I am so sorry. It was all my fault. I couldn’t find the thing I needed. And then my dad wasn’t answering the phone. And then I-”

Virgil clocked out of Abigal’s ramblings as he noticed that Reggie wasn’t currently alongside her. He looked behind the girl to see the other teenager in question slowly heading their way, taking his time rather than running like his girlfriend had done. They made eye contact as he got within speaking distance and the two greeted each other a little awkwardly – at least on Virgil’s part.

Unlike Abigal and Patton who had known each other since Patton had started high school, Reggie and Virgil were still relatively new friends, and really hadn’t had any time to get to know one another outside of their large friend group meetups. Virgil had this feeling that he should get to know Reggie, that maybe they could be friends as a lot of their humour lined up, but he just didn’t know how to go about it.

While Virgil was thinking all of this, Abigal had finally caught her breath and was done listing off her rack of apologies. She grabbed Reggie’s arm and pointed to the gates, “Time to go in and have the time of our lives!”

Patton squealed in joy and dragged Virgil along behind him as he followed the other couple up to the gates. They stood in line, chatting happily and laughing as they waited to reach the attendant. When it was their turn, Abigal stepped up and dug around in her bag.

“Abi?” came the voice from inside, causing the girl to look up.

She immediately broke out into a large grin, “Oh hey! I didn’t realise you were working today!” Abigal and the worker started an extremely casual conversation, which didn’t seem all too out of the ordinary. She was a very outgoing person and would probably have a few friends that none of them were aware of. The strangest thing happened at the end of the conversation, “So, I have three friends with me today, okay?” They all watched as Abigal passed over a card and the attendant barely checked it before handing it back.

“Have a good time!” The attendant smiled at them all, looking at them for the first time. Abigal thanked them and grabbed a hold of Reggie’s arm and Patton’s free hand before dragging all of them along with her into the park, through the turnstile.

All three of her friends were a little stunned, Virgil also feeling some form of pure terror. They’d all just walked in without being asked a single question, without any of them paying or doing anything that they should have to do in order to gain entrance to somewhere like this and it was not sitting well with him.

“What was that?” Reggie asked once they were all a fair distance from the entrance.

Abigal turned and looked at him with a slightly confused smile, “What do you mean?”

“You just dragged us all into a theme park. You knew the person at the entrance and you just had to hand over a weird card thing that they didn’t even have to look at to let you and your friends in.” Reggie rattled off all the events, almost deadpanning the whole thing.

“Ohhhhh, I hadn’t told you guys?” Abigal gasped and looked between each of them, falling on Virgil last. He was acutely aware that he was probably showing a lot of his anxiety right now, especially as he had to fight so hard to keep control of it. Abigal bit her lip before apologising, “I’m sorry, I thought I told you all that my dad owns the park…”

“WHAT?!” Patton screeched, drawing the collective attention of almost everyone, “That’s amazing!”

His reaction perked Abigal right up, “I know, right?! It’s freaking awesome! Though I am super super sorry about not telling you guys, I didn’t mean to scare you like that…” Virgil knew that was aimed mostly at him, but he was appreciative anyway. Knowing they weren’t breaking the rules and were definitely not about to get thrown out or arrested was most certainly a good thing for his nerves as they almost immediately dropped back to their normal levels.

“So, where first? You know all the best places, Abi! Where should we go?” Patton was almost vibrating from excitement. Abigal brought him over to a map and pointed to several of the rides around the park, indicating the order that she thought they should all do them in. Virgil tried to not pay attention, instead looking for something that was more his kind of thing. He noticed there was an arcade put at the centre of the map and that sounded like a much easier and better thing for him to do, now it was just bringing it up… which he just couldn’t do.

Abigal and Patton led the way, chatting and laughing as they walked in front of their significant others. They walked at a decently fast pace, which meant that Virgil’s nerves were upping at the exact same rate. They were getting closer and closer to that first rollercoaster and Virgil was having a hard time keeping himself calm. He could do this, he could definitely do this. It was only one rollercoaster, it didn’t really matter all that much. He was too busy trying to calm himself down that he didn’t notice someone was watching him the whole time.

Next to him, Reggie was clearly noticing Virgil’s anxiousness and was trying to figure out what was causing it to suddenly rise like it had. It made sense that the initial scare of being pulled through into a theme park without being told how they were able to just walk in would put some stress on the poor kid, but all they were doing was walking through the park.

“Ah, there it is!” Patton excitedly pointed towards the sign in the distance for the ride and Reggie saw that Virgil immediately tensed even more. It was suddenly all clear.

The two at the front of their group immediately headed for the entrance, but Virgil and Reggie stayed back, not getting close to the line. After a moment, Abigal and Patton realised that their boyfriends weren’t following them and returned to their sides.

“Hey, what’s up? You guys not coming?” Patton asked, sounding concerned.

Abigal smirked playfully, “Are you two just too chicken?” To anyone that wasn’t Virgil, it was clear she was only messing with them.

But Virgil was sadly himself and this was just Virgil’s worst fears coming true. Patton being upset with him not wanting to go on the rides and ruining the whole day for everyone. Abigal thinking he was a wimp and a coward and thinking less of him because of it. He was just beginning to wallow in his despair when Reggie scoffed exaggeratedly beside him. He looked up to see the boy flick his long braids in a show of sass.

“Excuse me? You think I’m going on that? With this hair? Honey, no. I am not ruining perfection for some cheap thrills that mean nothing to me.” Reggie pouted and crossed his arms in a show of defiance before continuing, “You two go enjoy whatever you want, ruin yourselves as much as you like. Virgil and I-” He looped an arm around Virgil’s shoulders casually, leaning into the emo a little, “-are going to go have our own fun, alright?”

It was clear to both Abigal and Patton that Reggie was covering for Virgil, who they could easily see was extremely nervous about the ride. His eyes kept flicking up and looking at the signs and at the tracks that looped around in the distance, he visibly flinched whenever there was a loud screaming from the rides around him. Ever the good friends, the two didn’t bring it up.

“Okay, babe. You two go have your fun and we’ll meet somewhere for lunch, I guess.” Abigal popped up onto her toes in order to press a simple kiss to Reggie’s lips before she stepped closer to the ride, waiting for Patton to join her.

“Yeah! I can’t wait to hear what you two get up to!” Patton kissed Virgil’s cheek and grinned before joining Abigal.

The other two waited until their significant others reached the line before heading off back towards the main section of the park. They walked in silence for a bit, Virgil still trying to calm his nerves back to their usual levels.

He looked up to the older student who he was now apparently going to spend most of his day with, “Hey… Thanks for that…” Virgil mumbled, returning his gaze back down to watch the paving stones as they walked, “You didn’t have to, you could have gone on the ride with them…”

Reggie simply smiled, watching the shy boy next to him, “I didn’t make anything up back there. I do not need this perfection going to waste on some rides, besides it can’t be fun to just wait for everyone else on your own when you’re freaking out.”

Virgil felt a soft smile tugging at his lips, “Yeah, it’s kinda the worst thing.”

“See? I’m just being the nice person I normally am.” Reggie grinned as Virgil gave him a disbelieving look.

“You? A nice person? That’s a pretty funny joke.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Do I have to bring up the first few years of high school?”

Reggie stopped dead and stared at Virgil with an open mouth, making various unhappy gasping noises. After a few seconds to think, Reggie walked the few paces to where Virgil was watching him with an amused grin before he spoke, “That is unfair. You don’t bring up a past like that.”

“Uh huh, whatever you say, Princess.” Virgil couldn’t help laughing as Reggie made more insulted noises beside him.

The two ended up at the arcade and spent most of their day in there, playing various games. Virgil had far more skill at almost every game they played, except for when they played any of the dancing games the arcade had set up. Virgil went first and did fairly well on medium difficulty, but he could not have been prepared for when Reggie got up there and absolutely demolished a song on the hardest difficulty without even really trying. The older boy went through a few different songs, drawing in a curious and impressed crowd within just the first two. Virgil watched as he thrived from the attention, especially at the end when some of the crowd – mostly the parents with young children – applauded his efforts.

Reggie hopped down off of the machine with a confident grin and an ego that could barely fit inside the building, “So, what’s next?”

Virgil snorted and headed over to a completely different game, “I kick your ass and bring your ego back to a manageable size, so we can all breathe.”

After an hour of absolute domination, Virgil deemed Reggie’s ego thoroughly beaten and they took a break to sit outside on a bench. They were both more comfortable with each other, joking around a lot more and just generally talking about stuff that neither of them would have considered talking about in the past. Virgil learned more about Reggie’s family and why he was currently living on his own in an apartment in America and Reggie learned a lot more about Virgil and his anxiety and his past with Patton.

On the other side of the park, Abigal and Patton had just come out of the final ride they’d wanted to go on. They were still giddy with adrenaline and were giggling together.

“I guess we should go find our boyfriends?” Patton asked, becoming happier and even more giggly as he said the final words. He went to reach for his bag in order to pull out his phone but found himself interrupted by Abigal.

“Yeah, I think it’s time to get food. I am absolutely starving!” Abigal grabbed Patton’s arm and pulled him along behind her as she ran back to the central area of the park. It was only for a few seconds, but it managed to divert Patton’s attention away from getting his phone and meant that the two ended up simply wandering casually to the centre. Once they got there, they quickly noticed their two boyfriends chatting happily on a bench outside the arcade.

Patton immediately felt his heart bloom with warmth as he saw Virgil smiling and being so relaxed. He’d been worried ever since seeing the emo that morning since the boy really didn’t seem all that excited about coming to the theme park, but all that worry was now a distant memory. Patton joined Abigal in slowly walking over to them.

What he didn’t join in with was her sneaking up to the back of the bench and surprising Reggie by wrapping her arms around him and calling directly into his ear, “Boo!” She grinned as the boy in her arms turned sharply to look at her.

Virgil turned around to see Patton standing just to the side of him, also grinning. He moved over on the bench, giving Patton just enough room to perch on the end. Virgil’s arm wrapped around his boyfriend’s shoulders, giving him a gentle hug.

“Soooo, how about we talk about everything we’ve been up to over some lunch?” Abigal suggested. Everyone was more than happy to go along with that plan and they headed over to one of the restaurants inside the park to eat. They happily recounted their mornings and had an overall good time. The last part of the day was more relaxed, as they all spent the time together and went on easier, chill rides and did other activities.

Virgil was exhausted but feeling really good as he and Patton climbed into the back of his dad’s car later in the afternoon. They’d said their goodbyes to their friends and were heading home. Everything was so utterly perfect and Virgil could not have been more pleased that he’d made the decision to go out on the double date to a theme park with his friends.

Last Chapter —– Next Chapter

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[coeurdastronaute]

Giant: Ch. 7

Make my messes matter. Make this chaos count. Let every little fracture in me Shatter out loud.

“Dammit, Kara,” Lena growled from the living room as she tripped over something.

The culprit smiled to herself before taking a sip of her coffee and resumed her amused appraisal of the absolute wrath to which she’d exacted upon Lena’s poor refrigerator. She cocked her head and tried to figure out how she did, and even more impressively, how Lena survived it.

“My bed is snapped in half,” the CEO finally made it to the kitchen, carefully around the remnants of her bookshelf. “It looks like I was robbed.”

“Yeah, I have a bad track record with beds,” Kara nodded, not surprised at all.

“How do I explain this to Francine?”

“Who’s Francine?” the hero cocked her head slightly like the RCA dog.

“Well... she’s my...my housekeeper kind of.”

“Wild rhino attack?” she shrugged, handing over her coffee cup to the CEO who leaned against the counter, surveying it all as well.

“I can barely walk,” Lena muttered into the drink, not taking her eyes off of her kitchen, knowing full well what her words would do to her friend.

“I didn’t--you’re not-- that--” Kara sputtered, taking a double glance at the girl beside her who so casually said such things. “You’re… not hurt?”

“The good kind of barely walk. Trust me. I think it has more to do with sheer quantity than force.” Kara blushed slightly, a little proud of herself. “Ten years of sexual tension could literally destroy my apartment,” Lena realized. “Thank goodness you didn’t wait a day longer and I try to work out occasionally.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I think it’s sexy as hell. No one’s ever wanted me enough to break my appliances.”

“Ugh I don’t know what came over me,” she groaned, hiding in her hands.

“Me. A few times.”

“Lena!” Kara blanched before a fiercer blush overtook her. 

“Just give me a warning, so I can buy sturdier furniture next time.”

“Lena,” she complained again.

“If there’s going to be a next time,” Lena shrugged smiling into her cup as she took another sip, enjoying the squirming and stammering in the girl beside her.

“We’re late for work.”

Kara pushed her hair around on her head, tucking the mess of it behind an ear. She looked at Lena and saw her in much the same state. The loose shirt barely covered her hips. Her hips betrayed bruises and hickeys, marks mimicked on her neck and chest. The alien felt almost proud at the galaxy she created.

“Want to be a bit later?” Lena asked, setting down the mug and sneaking a grab of Kara’s ass. She sprinted down the hall, hurdling the mess on the ground as she giggled as the hero chased her, catching easily.

Never before had Kara called off work. Never from both of her jobs. She never meant to, either, until she was faced with the prospect of leaving Lena’s penthouse, which proved completely impossible and utterly terrifying. If she left, she wasn’t sure she’d come back, wasn’t sure she could stay away. The past six weeks had been a flurry of feelings that left Kara oscillating between what she knew and what she thought she wanted. What felt faded in three years, was suddenly on fire.

Since the moment Lena Luthor’s face appeared on television in National City, Kara became that girl in the hall who couldn’t speak. And when she had to go to that meeting Cat set up, she felt all of the anger boil up, while at the same time, this kind of happiness just to be near her again. And then she read the article, and she realized she’d been afraid of Lena never knowing who she really was, potentially being like her brother. Hating her, and that was too much to comprehend.

But Lena wasn’t, and she was good, and despite time, they still had a comfort together, an ease, this unmistakable kind of space that felt made for them. Friends would have been acceptable. The benefits weren’t terrible though.

So Kara couldn’t leave, just let it all swirling around, so undecided and all over the place. Her brain had enough of it to last her a lifetime.

“It’s just not fair,” Lena complained. “You eat so much and yet… these.” Her hands ran over Kara’s abs, the muscles contracting slightly with the tickle her gentle fingertips gave. “I’ve never seen you work out ever. I’m in the gym every morning. I run marathons. I… I scored 3 goals in the state championships… and I don’t have a single ab. And you...”

“How long have you been waiting to do that?”

“So long,” she moaned and touched the skin there more, enjoying the feel of it.

Kara ran her hands along Lena’s thighs that now straddled her on the mattress that resided on the floor courtesy of the night before. The sheets were a tangle, half covering, half twisted around what they could. She let her own body be explored. Clenched against gentle hands.

Never before had Kara let herself imagine this moment. Or the previous moments, or any of the moments. Surely her heart would have exploded, or she would have never been able to stop running from sheer energy, if she’d thought about the way Lena felt in her hands, or the way she liked her hips kissed, or the way she tasted, or the way she giggled when Kara ran her fingers along her spine, or the way her breath would hitch just before she--

“What are you thinking about?” Lena whispered, smoothing the worried wrinkles of Kara’s forehead.

“How did we get here?”

“I did an interview...” The CEO earned a look and sigh before she realized her jokes were unappreciated for the moment.

“What are we doing?”

“I think what we were always meant to do.”

“You can’t leave again.”

“I know,” she nodded. “I did it to protect you.”

“And I get it… but, we’re… I don’t know. I can live without this… naked… things. Just…” her hands grabbed at Lena’s thighs in her nervousness. “I like having you in my life. I’ve missed having you in my life. I need you in my life, in even the smallest capacity. So I just need you to know that.”

The smile was small, but it grew. Lena watched the girl beneath her, the one who could throw  a pick up truck to the moon but couldn’t swear to save her life. She leaned down and kissed her, because it was better than any promise, and it was so much easier than actual words.

“How about I never leave, and we still do… naked things?” Lena growled, moving to the long expanse of neck. “Often. Together. Anywhere.”

“Yeah, um, yes, yeah,” Kara swallowed and tilted her chin. “That sounds… that. Yeah. We could. I mean. Yeah.”

Lena sat up again only to pull the shirt over her head. It went somewhere in the room while blue eyes grew wider and stared up at her. She bit her lip and placed her hands on Kara’s ribs, enjoying how it felt to be there, to feel the ribs expand with a deep breath, to feel the glow of a blush appear deep in Kara’s chest.

“I’m not going anywhere, Kara. I know it doesn’t mean anything now, but it will,” she promised. “Leaving was the hardest decision of my life, but I... I wasn’t me. I wasn’t anyone, and I was trying to do the right thing. I’d do it again, even without the promise of this moment.”

“Mhm,” she nodded.

“You can’t hear anything right now, can you?” Lena shook her head and rolled her eyes.

“What?”

Lena smiled and watched Kara stare at her. She felt very seen, very real, very adored, and so she smiled and ran her hands over her own chest, enjoying how much it made Kara’s eyes pop.

“Just have at it,” she chuckled.

“You can’t do it again,” Kara realized quietly. “I mean it.”

“Since I was seventeen,” Lena reminded her.

“We can handle ourselves and each other, from whatever comes up. But we don’t run away. If we do this, we do it. We’re not strangers, Lee. This isn’t new, and it isn’t old. It’s both and neither.”

“I’m not scared,” Lena lied, though it was not a lie about her fear of physical pain. She genuinely was terrified of what loving someone else could mean or do to her. That was the most terrifying force in the universe, and of that, she was certain. But she wasn’t afraid of what Kara was talking about, so it wasn’t a complete lie. One day, she would tell Kara she was afraid to love her, not because she didn’t, but because it was scary to be vulnerable and weak and to love. But for now, she knew that Kara somehow already knew, and kept her secret for her.

“I am,” Kara whispered.

“Good thing I’ll protect you then.”

“Good thing,” she chuckled and sat up slightly, kissing Lena’s sternum and melting into her.

The entire day was a mix of sex and take out and remembering and reacquainting. Never before, had Lena not gone into work, not opened her email, not wanted to check her phone, not cared about the price of a stock or the delay in the new prototype from Level Three. The entire day passed, and she fell in love again about a hundred times. Never before had she spent so many consecutive hours with one person. Never before had it felt so nice. Never before had she not wanted to leave. Never before had she spoke so many words, about so many feelings, so honestly.

Somewhere between the burgers and the chinese food, between finding that sweet spot that made Kara unable to speak and the other that made her giggle so hard she couldn’t breathe, between arguing about some memory and dreaming up some future, Lena found that little bit of herself that remained hidden after it all, after the trial, after her brother, after leaving. The littlest slice of what she remembered to be the idealistic, optimistic girl who won state.

They napped, woke up and kissed, lazed, napped, and forgot to pay attention to movies. It was a marathon of being together in the best kind of way. The only way to reconnect, in her humble opinion. She was grateful they put off separating, not because it simply delayed the inevitable, but because it was time that she needed to catch up.

By the time the early winter night rolled in, and the sun set in a quick kind of sunset that barely let anyone have time to adjust, Lena was ready to sell everything and never leave her apartment. It was safe there, they were them, there.

Only when Lena went to order pizza, did Kara decide to go shower, citing the raging smell of sex and yesterday's house fire that still lingered even though Lena couldn’t smell it. It was a reprieve without meaning to be, a break without trying, though both needed to catch their breath. The CEO tried to straighten up what she could, though the damage to some of the furniture was well beyond repair.

She gave up and finally opened her laptop, deciding to at least see if anything was burned to the ground or if her world could survive her absence for a day. She knew deep down, that Kara had used her shower as an excuse to check in with her sister, with her friends. It made her smile to think of the stuttering that would accompany that explanation.

“I think we broke the shower door,” Kara mentioned, as she toweled her hair and made her way back into the living room.

Lena noticed a change in her, the inevitable Kara that came out despite herself. She didn’t stay mad, couldn’t even. It was against her nature. The CEO knew it would take time to get her trust completely, but just having that, the lighthearted, the kind, the good natured person who made her smile with just her love of terrible tv and complete lack of knowledge of anything sports related, all of it was enough. It was all borrowed time she never thought she’d get.

“That one was me, I think,” Lena remembered as she scrolled. “Mmm, you smell good.”

“I feel better. Did you know you left a… there’s a... mark“ Kara stuttered slightly as she took the seat on the couch beside Lena, half leaning across it to lean her head against her arm. “On my… butt.”

“Yeah, I knew. I did it myself. You weren’t complaining--”

“Ugh, Lena,” she complained and hid in her side, burrowing against ribs. “I looked less beat up after fighting a white martian. No! Don’t! Stop looking so smug.”

“I can’t help it.”

With an exasperated huff, Kara pulled herself up and watched Lena work for a few minutes. She kissed her arm and inhaled her smell. There on the couch, they sat, Kara half flopped over, making it hard to type, but still, warm and comfortable. It was easy, it was quiet, it was like they were eighteen and Kara avoided homework while Lena let her distract her from her own.

“We have to talk about this.”

“I wasn’t going to go to this event,” Lena shook her head as she perused the email.

“I mean...us… what we’re doing.”

“Oh,” she nodded, slowly closing the laptop as the words came out.

“There’s just a lot,” Kara explained. “We are friends. Were friends. I don’t want to mess anything up, which is why this… us. You know. And between us, and you, and my job, my side job. We talked earlier… and just… Who we were, and-”

“And my name.”

“No, no, not that. I don’t… I don’t care about that.”

“It has a certain ring to it nowadays,” Lena acknowledged.

“A good one.”

“Kara, if you don’t… if this is all we get, just a day and two nights, then that’s fine. I’m not going anyw--”

“No, wait,” she sat up a bit. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t do… whatever it is we’re doing. I like it actually. I think you were right, when you said we were always something. I’m just saying that we need to talk about it. I’m not going to do this if we can’t talk about all of that stuff. It won’t work. I have to be able to tell you the truth, and you have to want to tell it to me, no more secrets to protect each other. We do it together.”

“I don’t really like talking about things,” Lena reminded her friend.

“I know. But that’s my condition.”

For a moment, Lena pondered the situation. She’d made deals before, but none felt as important as this one. She thought about her parents for some reason. Her mother would have told her to give whatever she could, fully, because that was all that she could do. Her father would have pointed to his orange jumpsuit and told her that was what love got.

“Alright,” she grit. “What do you want to talk about first?”

It was terse and layered, but it was the best effort she could make, and Kara knew it. She wasn’t going to make it difficult, to drag out everything at once, but she had to see if this was even an option. She picked herself up, unable to hold her smile in, and kissed the CEO.

“Pizza. It just got in the elevator.”

“At least I know I can distract you with food,” Lena giggled as Kara covered her in quick, sloppy, happy kisses.

“We have as long as we want to figure it out. So long as I know you want to.”

“You’re going to kill me.”

The pillows were all warm. The bed was in shambles, with the sheets every which way from the almost two days of inhabitants, but neither seemed to notice or care too much of the state of such things. The only light came from the city and the moon, the fire and the stars. Bathed in the chill of the night and the flames that cast them orange, the bodies adjusted and ebbed together, slow and steady, quiet and very much singular. 

Every action had a reaction. When Lena kissed Kara’s neck, she earned a nudge with a thigh. When Kara held Lena’s chest too rough, she earned a bite. It was simple science and it was the only kind of math either could be interested in ever learning.

“You would have really loved it,” Kara whispered, smiling softly as Lena ran her nails up and down her back lazily. She felt Lena’s breath against her shoulder and skin and tried to remember it.

“An advanced alien planet with beautiful inhabitants like the one in my bed right now? Yeah. I think I’d be a fan,” Lena promised. “I wish I would have asked about it sooner. I read some of Lex’s information on it. It sounded amazing.”

“I was always proud of my name. Your name reminded me of it. The way you would say Luthor with such pride. That was what it meant to belong to the House of El.”

“So you were like a princess?”

“No, no, we didn’t have a monarchy. It was more of a… what’s it? With the group of people ruling?”

“Oligarchy.”

“Sure,” she grinned. “Seven ancient families sat in the council. Beneath that was the… kind of like Congress. Except it was just one elected council. And then we had the tribunal for any matters that might need settled, but were not of consequence to the majority of the inhabitants.”

“Complex.”

“It was simple. We kept to ourselves, and we rarely had problems. No one needed laws. It was all about fairness and equity.”

“Tell me about the noble House of El?” Lena asked, watching the fire from the fireplace play across Kara’s face. All was peaceful, all was right with the world.

With a long inhale, Kara smiled and tried to think of when to start. She decided the beginning was apt enough. And she told Lena everything. Told her about the tribes, about her name which was as old as the stars, which meant Of the Stars, which meant that they believed she was born of dust and particles long before even Earth or the sun existed. In undefinable awe, Lena listened and laughed when Kara laughed, and made a million notes in her head, to try to memorize this history, because it was Kara’s history, and because it was important to her, because it was her’s .

Kara told Lena about her father, about the way he would let her sit on his shoulders during parade days and celebrations. About her mother, and how she had nice, warm hands when it was cold, who always told her not to eat so much fruit from the trees in their yard, and yet Kara always would, earning a stomach ache. She told her about the smell of the city, the taste of her favorite meal, the noise the kreof made when they flapped and welcomed the dawn by the lakes, the feeling of being normal, and not breaking things if she wasn’t paying enough attention. It all just came out, stored up and ready to be heard, ready to be shared so eagerly.

From her spot, Lena ran her leg up Kara’s while she spoke. She held her neck, tucked hair behind her ear, watched the way her face changed as she tried to pinpoint a moment, a sense, and share it as accurately as possible.

“Your parents would be very proud of who you became,” Lena promised. “You bring honor to the House of El.”

“There isn’t anymore House of El,” she shrugged. “Our motto was ‘Of the Stars, To the Stars,’ or at least that’s as close as I can get it. It means--”

“From our past, to our future,” the CEO offered, earning a nod.

“To the stars. That’s where I am right now. To the future. I try not to dwell, too much.”

“There’s a difference between dwelling and remembering.”

“There is,” she agreed and kissed Lena, just because she could, just because she was happy, just because Lena got it. “Now it’s my turn.”

“We’re taking turns?” Lena asked, cocking her eyebrow, humming as she leaned forward and kissed her friend yet again, wrapping her arms around her neck and into her hair. “I don’t think I signed up for that. Tell me more about the particle accelerators and the theory of interdimensional visualization.”

“I was like ten when I left,” Kara shook her head. “I only know a tiny bit of science. It’d be like asking a third grader to describe Newtonian principles.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Such a nerd,” she chuckled. “We’re getting to know each other again. I want to know all of it.”

“You already know all of it.”

“You, Lena Luthor, are a multitude of beings wrapped up in a very beautiful package. On any day, you are a thousand different thoughts and ideas and sometimes you do this thing, where you say something, out of the blue, but it’s the end of a conversation you’re having with yourself. So I’m very lost. It used to bug me, and I’d make you explain, and the trail was wild, but now I just like seeing what pops out.”

“You missed me, didn’t you?” Lena murmured, running her fingertips along Kara’s cheeks, skating over cheekbone. It was even quieter than their quiet.

“Every day,” Kara sighed, sweet and warm against Lena’s cheek as she closed her own eyes and burst apart at the seams with the feeling of hands on her, creating her, forming her.

“I missed you. I missed this.”

“We didn’t really, uh… do this. Back then.”

“I know. I mean I missed talking to you. You have a peculiar way of seeing the world. It always… it made me stop and see things a little differently as well. When I was away, I would find myself having these moments that I wanted to tell you about. Like, one evening I found myself wondering if my biological mother ever sat on a bench and read a book as I was doing. It felt like a very Kara question to ask, or think. You altered my brain, and I liked that. I called it my heart-shaped glasses view.”

“The ones from the funeral?” Lena nodded.

“You look at the world in a very interesting way. Evidently you look at me with those kind of glasses.”

“I missed you,” Kara smiled and repeated, giddy at the words. Her hands ran up Lena’s hip, toyed with her shoulder blade, stilled there.

“Even though I hurt you?”

“Anyone who could hurt me like that was going to leave a huge hole. Of course I missed you. I missed how silly you were, I missed that no one else knew it. This sounds ridiculous, but I always felt so cool to be in your club.”

“My club?” Lena snorted.

“Yeah, your club. This kind of group that always forms around you. People liked being near you. You were aloof and so darn cool. And then, you’d ask me if I wanted to leave, and you’d put on your leather jacket or sunglasses, and tug my hand, and I just felt… I don’t know. I got to know you. You picked me to be around. It was a badge of honor. Everyone knew you, but only I got to know you.”

“Well, I wanted to kiss you, duh.”

“And yet you never did.”

“You scared me.”

“I did?” Kara opened her eyes finally with the admission.

“Kara, I moved across the globe to keep you safe. I betrayed my brother. I turned my back on my father. I did those things because it was right, but also because of… because they wanted to hurt you,” Lena shook her head and adjusted her leg, lifting it higher, until it eclipsed Kara’s hip. “You are terrifying.”

“I just didn’t kiss you because you were so pretty.” Lena chuckled and let Kara roll her over, let her settle atop her and kiss her neck before lazily sliding lower. “What are we doing, Lena?”

“If we ever leave this bed, and maybe go out, I’d call it dating.”

“Can we be friends, too?”

“We can be everything,” she promised. “It’s your turn.”

“Right. My turn. The big questions.”

Pondering deeply, Kara used her time to rub her nose against Lena’s stomach. She liked the feel of it, not hard, not too muscular, soft and warm, it clenched when she breathed against it, earning an almost giggle.

“Did you ever try to find your biological parents?” Kara asked, lazily toying with the slope of Lena’s thigh and knee.

“How come you never asked me this stuff before?”

“I don’t know,” Kara shrugged. “There are things you can ask someone when you’re naked that you can’t when you’re clothed. We’re a little more bare, now, aren’t we?”

“It’s easy,” Lena realized.

“So?”

“I tried, I did,” the CEO finally confessed. “I hired a few different investigators to see if they could find anything about me, but no one could before the adoption. I don’t remember anything. Not one thing, or if I do, I guess it’s mixed in with my family.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara cooed, kissing stomach and ribs and hip, all slow and lazy and in no rush at all.

“Oh well. To the Stars, right?”

Sadly, Lena shrugged, not interested in her failure. She played with Kara’s messy hair.

“Well, why don’t we make up a history?”

“You can’t make up history. That defies the point.”

“Trust me, sometimes the truth is the worst. But what would you want your history to be?” she asked as she sat up slightly, intrigued by her own idea.

“Kara, that’s silly.”

“Fine. I’ll give you one,” she decided. For a long while, Kara thought and debated, seriously considering it all. It was serious business, to invent someone completely.

“Your mother’s name was Evelyn. She went by Evie. She played piano and danced, and I mean danced, like if you saw her dancing, you’d think it was why music was created. She wasn’t the most perfect, but she looked like she just enjoyed life, like she figured it out. And she had your hair, and I bet when she was dancing it looked like yours when you get done running. Do you remember? Like after practice, it’d be all sweaty and curl in little spots, fly away all over the place.”

“I’m a terrible dancer,” Lena reminded her and closed her eyes as her hand moved over Kara’s temple.

“Oh yeah, you are,” she agreed. “Because you inherited your father’s two left feet and sense of rhythm. But also his green eyes. And his brain. Your mom knew how to hotwire a car, how to pick a lock, practical things. Your dad carried around a notebook in his pocket and filled it up with numbers and ideas and calculations. He was a dreamer.”

“He sounds very dorky.”

“Oh yeah, he totally was,” Kara chuckled. “That’s where you get it from.”

“Ah,” she laughed. Kara adored hearing it, listening to her diaphragm move and jostle with the amusement.

“And they met in the laundromat.”

“At the bar,” Lena decided.

“At the bar,” Kara agreed. “She was dancing, and he saw her smile, this brilliant kind of one that you get, like when you don’t realize you’re smiling. It looks like you’re breathless. And that’s how Evie looked the night Philip saw her. He was intense. And he had those eyes, and this soft kind of allure. He was a book waiting to be read.”

“She approached him.”

“Definitely. He was way too shy, though he spent the entire night trying to get some courage. He wasn’t going to miss his shot. And when she did, he was super honest. You get this honest streak. I know the Luthors taught you a lot about maintaining average and even keel, but you’re sometimes poetic, and you don’t mean to be, which is my favorite. I imagine that was Philip. Just blurting things out and not batting an eye at it while Evie marvelled and blushed.”

“He wrote poetry.”

“Oh yeah,” Kara decided, sitting up slightly, smiling as Lena joined her. “He wrote poems every day. Worked as an engineer, and his engineer buddies would call him--”

“Neruda.”

“Neruda. Because he wrote love poems non-stop. He would dream in poems, and Evie would nudge him in the middle of the night to keep him quiet. Philip would recite the entirety of Howl to her belly when she was pregnant.”

“I like them,” Lena decided, tilting her head to find Kara watching her as she dreamt of her imaginary parents. “What?”

“You’re smiling just like how I bet your dad smiled when your mom told him he was going to be a daddy.”

“Kara,” she rolled her eyes and hid her face slightly, laughing at the idea. “You’re really committing to it.”

“If you’re never going to know, why not reverse engineer them?”

“Still.”

“They had a tiny little starter house out on the edge of town. Not much of a yard, but enough for a toddler at least. She liked to drive through richer neighborhoods, and they’d dream like we’re dreaming right now, of when’s and how’s and if’s.”

“Mom taught dance and Dad hated people who put an ‘s’ on anyway.”

“Naturally.”

With a hum of approval, Lena adjusted her hips and formed a tiny picture of the people that must have created her. In all reality, they could have been something completely different, but maybe Kara was right. Maybe they were good, honest people who were madly in love and had hobbies and a home and a hope for the future.

“They were in love and happy and wanted me.”

It was a question and an answer, all rolled together. Kara swallowed and ran her thumb along hip bone.

“So in love, unbelievably happy, and they wanted you so much,” the hero promised. “Phil read all of the books he could find about babies. Evie painted a wall in the nursery and made him buy her lots of beets because she craved them all day.”

Lena grew quiet and thought hard about her question, which she had to ask, which Kara knew she had to answer.

“What happened to them?”

With a small gulp, Kara took a deep breath.

“On the night you were born there was an accident. It was no one’s fault, it was just fate. And the doctor’s saved you.”

“I knew that story wouldn’t have a happy ending, and yet it still hurts,” Lena muttered. She pressed her hand against her chest and heaved a heavy sigh out with all of the anger and worry. She had a nice story now, and she appreciated Kara’s effort.

“What do you mean it doesn’t have a happy ending?” Kara asked as she sat up slightly and looked over at the girl who finally relaxed against the blankets. “You’re here. You overcame an accident of fate, a ridiculous IQ, a stint as the best friend of an alien, multiple degree programs, and own your own company, and are currently naked, with aforementioned alien. You have a home, you have… you had food in your cupboards,” she amended as she considered her answer, earning a chuckle. “I mean, the story isn’t over yet, but I think it’s pretty happy. It certainly has potential.”

“You’re skating over a few parts.”

“Yeah, well… My story involved a literal exploded home planet and multiple attempts on my life, but I’d like to think it’s a happy story,” she muttered, earning a tiny tug, a tiny desire for her to be closer.

Lena gave her a kiss because she didn’t want to argue, and because she knew Kara would win. Kara always won, and it was infuriating still. Instead, she kissed her because it was kinder and she was right.

“Thank you for my parent story.”

“It was alright?”

“More than alright,” she promised and kissed her hero again, because the truth was that her heart was bursting, and she didn’t know how to express it. The truth was, that even if it wasn’t true, it didn’t matter at all. She found a girl who would give her an entire history, and that was something.

“You’ve never thought about it?”

“About what?” Lena furrowed, taking her seat on the counter as Kara went to work making them food.

“A future.”

“I can barely handle the present, let alone the past,” she shrugged and plucked a grape from the bunch Kara set out. “Haven’t gotten a jump on the future just yet, Ms. Danvers. Someone threw me against my fridge and had their way with me, and I haven’t been able to even leave my house since.”

“Everyone dreams about their future,” Kara disagreed as she managed to find something resembling food to get them through until they could decide on dinner. Or Breakfast. Or whatever eating at four in the morning was.

“I haven’t had time.”

“You have time now.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t know,” Kara shrugged, obviously lying. Lena stared at her legs that poked out, long and lean from her own old shirt. She swallowed slightly at the sight of a recently sexed Kara Danvers in her kitchen.

“Tell me.”

“It’s a thing, people ask each other, when they date. Or go on dates. You know. What are your goals, what do you want from life, who do you want to be. Those kinds of things.”

“Oh, well. I don’t date much. And when I do, it’s usually only one or two. I guess we don’t get… to that…” Lena realized, perplexed by the answer. “Which date are we on?”

“We haven’t been on one  yet.”

“Right, right. Can I have a pass until we’re on at least date number three to figure out a five year plan?”

“Think you’ll get that many?” Kara teased, slathering bread with peanut butter.

“I am very confident that I will.”

“I’m just curious.”

“You know what they say about that trait,” Lena warned with a sigh. “Honestly, Kara, I haven’t thought about it. I know we used to dream, but that was when we were kids. I got sucked into this, and you got… you reached your calling. Our plates are a little full.”

With a nod, Kara listened, but didn’t buy it. One of her favorite pastimes was to think of tomorrow, of the following year. It kept her going, it kept her reaching for something. And Lena used to be the queen of dreaming.

“I’m just curious what might have changed since we were teenagers.” With a movement, she handed over a PB & J.

“Everything,” Lena answered quite honestly.

“Yeah,” Kara nodded, oddly saddened by that news, though she instinctively knew it. “But also not much. It’s a weird balance. You wanted to start a punk band, and you wanted to run with the bulls.”

For a moment, they both chewed and thought. Lena crossed her ankles and observed the alien in her home. She earned eyes back at her and a small smile.

“Fine. What do you want to know about my future?” she relented a second later.

“Close your eyes,” Kara instructed, putting down her own sandwich. She tilted her head until Lena rolled her eyes and relented, sassing the entire time. The hero took another bite before waving her hand in front of the CEO’s face. “Okay,” she decided. “Now, I want you to actually allow yourself to think of a future.”

“I plan for the future,” Lena opened her eyes and fiddled with the crust of her sandwich.

“Close your eyes.”

“I have multiple investment accounts and retirement plans, as well as property and an exit strategy from the company, plus personal wealth accumulated through--”

“I’m not talking to you as an accountant,” Kara groaned and shook her head. “You’re so practical sometimes.”

“Well, I have to make some adjustments to the projections if my furniture keeps getting ruined by a sex-craz--”

“Nope, stop,” the hero warned with a smile and mouth full of peanut butter and jelly. She placed her hand over Lena’s mouth until she felt the smile form in her palm.

Standing between the legs that sat on the counter, Kara gave her eyes, those eyes, the ones she knew would be super effective and wear Lena down to do whatever she wanted. She hoped they were still what she remembered.

“Fine,” Lena mumbled and closed her eyes once more.

“Okay. Alex made me do this, before I became Supergirl. I couldn’t figure out what to do after college,” Kara explained, standing up a bit straighter. Lena took another bite innocently. “You just answer the first things that pop into your head.”

“Okay.”

Hair a mess, tossed all over, shirt hanging off a shoulder, legs bare, bruise on her neck, Lena looked perfect. Kara wanted a picture, she wanted to engrave it in her memory. Instead, she just kissed her sweetly, innocently, quietly, quickly.

“Sunshine. Sunlight. Those big fluffy clouds that make shadows but not enough to blot out the sun. Mostly, sunshine,” Lena rattled off with a grin before taking another bite, oddly proud of herself. “This is easy.”

“We haven’t started yet,” Kara giggled.

“Damn. Well, that’s my answer.”

“We’ll start simple.”

“Are you going to tell me what you want from life, too?” Lena asked, peeking slightly as she squinted up her face to keep it a secret.

“Yeah, that’s how we work.”

“Okay,” she smiled and relaxed her features. “Let’s go.”

“Where is your dream place to live in five years?”

“Hm. Right here?” Lena ventured, furrowing at the thought. She really thought about it, realizing that she honestly hadn’t thought about anything like that when she signed the papers and bought the penthouse. “I don’t know. I’d like a house one day. I like living in the city, but I miss having a yard. I’d like a yard.”

“A house with a yard,” Kara repeated, already enjoying this. She watched Lena actually think about it a little more, actually let herself want something. Her face furrowed as if she were solving logarithms.

“I really like those doors that you can open the whole way, like that leads outside, so the walls are windows that you can pull back and then it's like your house is open outside. I’d like that. Doesn’t that sound nice on a summer evening?” she asked, opening her eyes and grinning excitedly. “I stayed at a villa on the coast of Morocco. It had windows like that. And in the afternoon we could open them so the breeze came in. And I want lots of trees. But a lemon tree especially. And one of those with pink flowers.”

“Cherry blossom.”

“Yes, that,” she nodded eagerly. “And the one with the big white flowers.”

“Dogwood.”

“Yes. I like those a lot. Lots of flowers in this yard.”

“See? This isn’t too hard to imagine,” Kara chuckled as Lena realized she’d made up an entire future home with little effort at all. “A house that is open, a big yard, lots of flowers. Seems manageable. But I meant did you want to stay in National City.”

“Oh,” Lena swallowed and flushed slightly. “Oh! Oh. Yes. I mean. I like this city. We moved so much that no place ever felt like home. Except here. Plus, I still own the Hawks. And… I don’t know. They have yards here, right?”

“Yeah, I think so,” the hero laughed and ran her hand along Lena’s thigh, assuring her, calming her. “Close your eyes, you’re defeating the purpose.”

“Right,” she nodded eagerly, closing them again, almost enjoying Kara’s experiment.

“What about for work? What do you want to do?”

“Does it have to be what I’m doing now?”

“Of course not.”

“I love what I do. I’d kind of like to sell it though. Start over. Get rid of everything and start from the ground up. Really make something of my own, if that makes sense. I don’t know how to do it, but… I think I’d feel better. To shed away Luthor Corp, or LexCorp, or LCorp. I’d call it something not as narcissistic.”

“Sounds like you did actually think about that quite a bit. That sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” Lena asked, not opening her eyes this time. Kara kissed her again. “Sunshine. Like, when you’re underwater, and you can watch the light move and dance on the top.”

“That wasn’t part of it.”

“Right, right,” she grinned and shrugged. “I don’t know where all of that came from, my answers. Maybe I really was thinking it all along.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe it’s you.”

“Probably,” Kara agreed easily. “So you’re going to get a house with a big yard and lots of trees. And you’re going to start your own business after saving your family’s legacy.”

“Yes.”

“What about pets?”

“Hmmm,” Lena thought about it hard, pictured her pretend house, her pretend work. “I’d like to be a boss that had a dog they brought to work, but I imagine I’m a bit of a cat person. I’ve never had one though.”

“Never?”

“Nope,” she shrugged, opening her eyes to steal another grape, missing the perplexed and oddly horrified look on Kara’s face. “What?”

“Never had a cat or a pet?”

“Pet, so both.”

“Oh, dear,” Kara breathed, shaking her head. “You can make up for it. Let’s go get a cat right now.”

“As very gay as that is, I don’t think now is the time.”

“You could get both, you know,” Kara smiled at the dismissal before taking another bite.

“They shed and lick and just… have smells. I’m not sold. Maybe I’ll start with a fish.”

“Yeah. I’m sure in five years you can work your way up.”

“Exactly.”

Kara wanted to ask her more, but she saw the furrow and the thinking that was happening with another chew of the sandwich, and so she simply waited, because oddly enough, that was all Lena needed usually.

“In my big yard, it’d be nice to have a big dog though. You know, one of those really big, massive, floppy kind of dogs that’s whole body moves when he shakes? Maybe a cat that naps on the porch in the sun. That sounds good, right?”

Kara put her hands over Lena’s eyes until she felt them close and smiled to herself when she won once again.

“It does sound nice.”

“Do they come with names, or do you get to pick? How does that work?”

“That’s an entirely different conversation,” Kara reminded her. “You know, I think it’s just a little ironic that the alien has to be the one teaching you about Earth customs.”

“Big floppy puppy. I wish you could see what’s in my head. It’s kind of nice,” Lena murmured, ignoring Kara’s jibing.

“I have an idea,” the hero promised. For a moment, she watched Lena enjoy the thoughts before she decided to close her own eyes and picture it. “Okay, so it’s a Thursday evening. You just finished a meeting at work, at your new firm that does… something brainy, and you open the door to your house with the big trees. The doors and windows are open, the lights are on, the breeze is drifting around. The big floppy dog shakes and stretches in the yard while the cat completely ignores you.”

“And the fish has no idea what’s happening on the table,” Lena interjected.

“He’s still alive?”

“Oh no, probably not. But it’s twelfth or so replacement.”

“Of course,” Kara smiled and toyed with Lena’s thighs, felt hands move to her shoulders, keeping her close. “What else is happening in your house?”

“Hmmm,” Lena takes a deep breath and really things, really pictures it all. Pictures herself petting the big dog with floppy ears that she doesn’t know the name of, pictures the cat do one of those yoga-like stretches, pictures the trees in the sunset. “Dinner is being made. And I drop off my bag. And little arms wrap around my leg and greet me, before I-- Holy fuck, Kara! I want kids. Oh shit.”

With a start, Lena opened her eyes and jerked slightly. Kara gripped her legs and kept her grounded.

“That’s not the end of the world.”

“I don’t like this,” Lena decided, shaking her head quickly. She looked quite shaken at the notion, as if it was very foreign and very different than what she anticipated herself dreaming.

“Lena, it’s okay to want that.”

“Do you see what my family did to me? No way am I doing that to a kid. No way will they have to be Luthors. And I went through twelve fish!” She argued, looking away, distracting her worried fingers with picking another grape and studying it intensely before taking a bite. “You can’t give someone who killed eleven fish a kid!”

“You don’t even have a fish.”

“I don’t even have a fish!” she repeated, her shoulders tensing up in a permanent shrug. “Can’t have a kid with no experience.”

“Stop freaking out, Lena, please.”

“I’m not, I’m just saying. That should be a requirement. No fish, no kid.”

“Lena…”

“I never thought about kids, okay,” Lena lied and shook her head until Kara stilled it, lifting her chin with her knuckle, trying to find her eyes. “I don’t… You’re way more effective than my shrink I pay a lot of money for.”

“You don’t have… you know… with her. Do you?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“This isn’t funny,” Lena complained, oddly tired from the session, emotionally exhausted from the past day. All of her shock and surprise ran down her arms as she relaxed, defeated by her own psychosis.

Kara shushed her and held her closer, gently chewed the last bite of her own sandwich and murmured through a peanut butter lisp that it was a long time away and she would be an amazing mother, that she shouldn’t worry, that she hadn’t meant to scare her, that it was a beautiful dream, that it was an attainable dream. Lena just took a deep breath, smelled the distinctly Kara smell that made her feel at ease, the mix of sun and wildflowers that lived in her skin.

“Who was making dinner?”

“What?”

“In your future,” Kara tried, letting Lena lean forward and place her forehead on her shoulder. She ran her hands up Lena’s back, splayed them, covering as much space as she could. A head just lulled against her shoulder, hid in her neck, groaned in complaint, mumbled when lips found skin. “Who was making dinner?”

“I don’t know,” Lena lied, her sigh making Kara’s skin turn to goose bumps.

“Tell the truth. It’s what we do.”

“Maybe it was you. Maybe it was Neil deGrasse Tyson.”

“Probably the later.”

“Probably,” she admitted quietly.

For a moment, Lena just hugged Kara’s shoulders. She closed her eyes and hid there, oddly alarmed at suddenly having an idea for the future. Just like that, Kara Danvers around for a day, and she suddenly had her dreaming and thinking and hoping, infecting her with her ideals and desire for better. It was exhausting to someone who had worked so hard to perfect the demeanor of complete nihilism. She spent the past few years working so hard to shove all of her desire and want and hope down. Now it burst like that geyser she remembered from a trip her sixth grade summer her parents decided they needed.

“Want to know a secret?” Kara smiled into Lena’s neck. “I’m an amazing cook.”

“You’re not helping my newfound anxieties about my newfound future.”

For a moment, Kara just chuckled and soothed Lena’s shoulders, enjoying the closeness, enjoying the effect she still had on her.

“A house on the corner,” she mumbled, moving her hands to hips. “A blue door. I like that. Colorful. Cozy. Very comfortable. Lived in, not too perfect. A fireplace. I like fireplaces. Maybe an old house. One that needs work so I could paint it all kinds of fun colors. A dog and a cat. I’m a reporter. But like, a real reporter. One who does work and isn’t afraid of her editor. One who has experience and integrity. And on Sundays, we don’t leave the house. We eat outside and the dog and cat beg because I like to sneak them table food. When I come home from work, little arms grab my legs too. And you have your hair up, kind of messy, and you’re wearing my old, painted up jeans, rolled up on your legs. And there are little hands clinging to your shirt while you sing some song and check something in the oven.”

“Oh,” Lena swallowed.

“It’s always been you, Lena.”

“Oh.”

“I wanted to know if we had a shot. If we had similar… you know… goals. No sense in this if… We have history. I wanted to see if we had a future.”

“Do we?”

“I could live with lots of flowers and a fish as well, if that’s all we get,” Kara grinned.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“To the Stars,” Lena realized.

“You’re not freaked out, are you?”

“So much,” she chuckled, still slightly dazed at the imagining and the idea of her life. She suddenly had to get a fish when she was only just kidding about that part. It was a lot at one time, the fish being so low on her list and yet suddenly necessary. She wanted to not fixate on it, but it was the safest place to focus.

“I don’t want it tomorrow, Lee,” she promised, pulling away enough to rest her forehead on Lena’s. “I don’t even want it next year. I just want it one day. We haven’t even been on a date yet.”

“We still have to do that?”

“Oh yeah,” she nodded, earning a smile. “A lot.”

“I don’t want a fish.”

“Okay, no fish.”

“Alright,” Lena nodded. She wound her arm around Kara’s neck and shoulders and kissed her tamely. “I might not be good at this whole five year plan thing, but I do have a one night plan right now. Do you want to know what it entails?”

“Sure.”

“Take me to bed. I’ll show you.”

NEXT