title: Neither Do Storks or Cabbage Patches
genre: Harry Potter, Post-DH/Epilogue
rating: PG
pairing: Dean/Luna, (possible)Dean/Seamus
main charatcer: Seamus
summary: Possibly the weirdest question Seamus had ever fielded "Are you my mum?" And all he could think was that he was going to kill Dean when that boy got home. Part of the Turquoise-'verse. Oneshot.

--

"Shay?"

"Yea, little dearie?"

"Are you my mum?"

At this point, Seamus put down the file he'd been looking through and stared at the little caramel-colored girl in front of him.

"Why are you asking?" His eyes snapped around the room, where was her father when you needed him? She shouldn't be asking Seamus about things like this.

"'Cause the other kids have a mum and a da, but I've only got a da." Her wide eyes, her mother's eyes, continued to stare at him in that unnerving way. "Unless you're my mum…" She let the question hang in the air.

Seamus screwed up his face in thought. It really ought to be Dean telling little Abby these things… not Seamus.

--

Their friendship had been rough in some parts after the War. Like a badly repaired blanket, there was always parts that were soft and comfortable, familiar; but there were also the parts when your fingers would accidently brush against the burnt edges or the stitch that was only barely holding things together. When that happened, things would unravel and need to be fixed (badly) once again.

They met sparingly at first. Seamus had been in the thick of things at Hogwarts. Dean had been on the run. Both had seen things they never wanted to, had done things they never wanted to, and had lived through things that no one ever should. They were both broken, and they both knew it.

But then… everything changed.

Seamus didn't ask. He didn't even blink at Dean suddenly appearing on his doorstep with a trunk and a face worn through.

Dean, however, seemed only to remember himself then, "Ah," He said, as if he had only just woken up and was pretending he was really fully awake, "I—Look…" His eyes suddenly drowned in the matt at Seamus's doorstep. "Nevermind. I'll see you later." He took a step away, to leave, as if he had forgotten he wasn't welcome.

Seamus grabbed his arm. His pale hands digging into the darker flesh of his friend, "Don't." He said, communicating in their own way, that Dean was always welcome, had always been welcome—regardless of what the other boy thought. "Stay."

"Okay." Dean said and suddenly Seamus had a roommate.

Seamus gave Dean the guest room, he had made up for his mam's spontaneous and often short visits. She didn't seem to mind, when she found out. She'd just patted his shoulder and said she should be getting back to her own bed anyway. She had even smiled at him, something that had been rare since his da's death.

--

Seamus hadn't asked when Luna showed up a few months later on his (their) doorstep.

Luna had always seemed to be in the clouds in an almost alien fashion… but when Seamus opened the door and saw her standing there…

For a girl who had always seemed to be a bit blurry on the edges, who had always seemed like she wasn't really part of this world, it was completely unnerving to see her standing there, no blur, no dreams in her eyes, just undoubtedly and solidly human.

She asked for Dean but politely refused to enter the flat. Seamus moved away from the doorframe to let Dean by, but watched them as they both suddenly seemed unbearably lost together.

She seemed even more grounded to the earth—something a girl like her was never made to be—and he seemed to melt at the edges slightly as he if he had lost connection with the world for a moment.

She spoke first, "Good to see you, Dean."

"You look…Yea. Same here." Dean stumbled over his words, his eyes seeming hollow of something for a moment before he tucked that part of himself into hiding once again.

"I…" She glanced down at the cloth bundle in her arms.

For a moment, they were like the earth and the moon: stuck in orbit around one another, too near to escape the pull, but too far to touch. They were stuck at the same distance from each other, a distance bred in understanding, but held at arm's length by pain.

Luna seemed to regain her unearthly blur for a moment and she extended her arms, settling the bundle into Dean's limp arms.

"It turns out that Rappborks don't make them after all." She said simply and left.

Dean stood there for a long moment.

In the bundle was a little baby girl.

A rumpled and sprawled note was curled in her tiny fist:

"Abellona Thomas

Born April 12th, 6am

I'm sorry"

--

Somehow… having the child to care for made things easier.

Suddenly, things didn't seem as dark with that little girl's giggles.

Suddenly, the two of them weren't so broken.

Seamus didn't even realize it until Dean's deep laugh startled him. He hadn't heard that laugh in… years now. And now that Dean had started, he couldn't stop. Sure, it was slightly hysterical by then, but it was like he was trying to make up for all the times he hadn't laughed, all the times he hadn't smiled.

Seamus didn't bother to control the smile that came to his own lips and the slightly hysterical laughter that bubbled up from his middle as well.

Eyes, wide and curious, like her mother's, watched on and she let out a curl of giggles in a show of pure joy that is only shown by infants and madmen.

"Mum? She called you, of all people, mum?" Dean's rich laughter followed.

Seamus grumbled, scowling at his muffin, "And now she won't stop calling me it. You need to tell her."

Dean sobered almost immediately, "I suppose it's time she knew who her mother is." He said reluctantly.

--

Dean's room was filled with drawings of her.

Her smiles, her stares, her tears.

Seamus couldn't help but smile everytime he went in there. She was so much a part of their lives now.

Her tiny giggles filling the cracks in each of them, her odd ways making up for their empty ones, her expression eyes making up for their sometimes blank faces.

It was impossible to think of anything else.

It was as good as having a family of his own, Seamus thought.

--

"You know…" Dean's voice seemed cautious, "You can still go out."

Seamus stopped scowling at his muffin and glanced at Dean's carefully empty expression. Dean hadn't gone on so much as a date since Luna stopped by, than disappeared off the face of the earth. Seamus had gone to clubs, brought back a few girls.

He had stopped recently though.

Seamus shook his head, "Doesn't seem right." He replied in an offhand tone.

"I'm going to take Abby to my mum's for a visit. You can go to that place you like and… Well, we'll be gone all weekend." Dean nodded to himself but never met Seamus's eyes.

Seamus shook his head again, his expression far off. "This is my family now." Then, suddenly, as if only realizing then what he had said, he hurriedly added, "If you'll have me as it anyway. As family."

A smile spread across Dean's face—one of his rare and most honest smiles. "Good. Let's all go visit my mum then."

"Sure. I'll grab Abby." Seamus rose from the table with a vaguely amused grin.

--

"Bye da! Bye mum!" Abby half hung out the window as she waved to the two men on the platform.

"Seeya Ab!" Seamus called out, "Show that troll who's boss!"

"Be safe!" Dean shouted, "Don't worry about the sorting! Shay's just being an arse."

"Hey now!" Seamus cuffed Dean in the back of the head.

They waved back, but soon were gone from sight and the caramel girl set herself back inside the train.

A silvery-red haired girl sat across from her. "I thought you said you lived with Mr. Thomas and Mr. Finnigan?"

Abby smiled in her odd way, reminiscent of the dreamy look of her mother and nodded.

The other girl knit her brows together and looked puzzled. "But… then, who are you calling 'mum'? I didn't see a woman with Mr. Thomas…"

"Oh, Victoire, you're silly," Abby's wide and expression eyes flashed amusingly, her face facing to something more influenced by a certain Irishman, "Luna is me mother, but now Seamus is me mum."

The part-veela girl's face looked even more puzzled for a moment then she broke out into laughter. "Mr. Finnigan! No way! He's so…" Victoire snorts, "Are they together then?"

"Who?" Abby blinked and tilted her head to the side.

"Mr. Thomas and Mr. Finnigan, are they… yanno, together?" Victoire wiggled her pierced eyebrow in an amusing fashion.

Abby just laughed. "Ask 'em that yourself."

Victoire pouted, "Aw, you're no fun." Then suddenly she changed her tactics, "You said you draw, can I see?"

Abby smiled, tugging out a sketchbook from her messenger bag. "Sure, but I warn you, most of them are of me da and mum."

The other girl giggled, "I don't mind. I bet they're all awesome."

The train rolled on as the two girls chattered nervously but happily on their way to a first long year away at Hogwarts.