Chapter Ten
A/N: More seriousness, ahoy! (Eventually. First have some silliness!) I hope you enjoy and please review.
Also, I've been on vacation and finally found my writing mojo again! I've actually finished most of the rest of the chapters of this fic in advance, which I am going to be releasing weekly. Seriously, I only have the last chapter to write now. I think I can now safely say that I will finish this fic, even if it kills me. There will be 17 chapters so with this chapter, we're over halfway there! Hooray! This fic will be 100% published by the end of July.
The relative quiet in Matthew's apartment was suddenly broken by an incessant knocking at the door.
"Alfred's here!" Gil called out to Matthew, who was still changing out of his work clothes. It turned out not to be a very helpful warning, because Alfred burst into his home (Matthew really regretted giving him that extra key sometimes) and into his bedroom in under a minute.
"MATT!" Alfred yelled cheerfully before tackling his older brother.
"Alfred, you fat hoser, get off me!" Matthew grunted as he tried to throw his brother off.
"Meanie!" Alfred cried before getting up and dusting off his hands. "I come all the way across town to take you out like an actual normal person and all you do is call me names?"
"Yeah, Matt, you big meanie!" Gil echoed from the doorway.
Oh, Lord, they had teamed up. Graciously accepting defeat, Matthew apologized to his brother, albeit in a backhanded way that still insulted Alfred (though of course, Alfred couldn't tell) before getting up. Matthew finished changing while Alfred chattered away and as they were about to leave, Gil, who had plans herself for that evening, waved and called out, "See you later! I'll probably be back sometime... tomorrow I guess!"
"Okay, see you," Matthew answered and waved back before Alfred grabbed his collar and dragged him to his car. They ended up at a loud club Alfred had chosen with plenty of flashing lights and cheap drinks. Matthew was severely disappointed by the lack of Molson but Alfred insisted that this club had the best appletinis in town.
"I'm not sure whether I should be concerned that you like appletinis or impressed that you're willingly eating fruit," Matthew commented dryly once they had their drinks.
"Yeah, well..." Alfred trailed off, searching for a retort. "All that beer will make you fat!"
"I'll have to borrow your clothes then."
Alfred pouted.
"Dammit, I never win these things with you! You're deceptively sweet looking but pure evil inside! I should call you... Dr. Evil or something!"
Matthew just grinned because as much as he loved his brother, insulting him was hysterical. His verbal ripostes were always so endearingly weak. They chatted over their drinks about whatever came to mind, until Alfred brought up the one topic Matthew had futilely hoped he would avoid (for once).
"Sooo, how's that teenager? I notice she's still around."
"She's fine, I guess?" Matthew answered him. Alfred nodded.
"That's good, that's good."
He didn't say anything after that and Matthew hoped that he would drop the subject.
"So what was with that whole 'see you later' thing?" Alfred switched to falsetto and batted his eyelashes obnoxiously in what was apparently supposed to be an imitation of Gil. Matthew sighed.
"Well, when people say 'see you later' it usually means they're going to see each other later," he explained in as patronizing a way he could. Alfred rolled his eyes.
"Seemed awfully cozy to me," Alfred noted. Matthew facepalmed. "I mean, I wouldn't blame you. She's not bad looking."
And oh, those words brought back Matthew's badly-repressed realization that Gil was actually rather attractive. He'd managed to forget about it after the whole mall debacle but Alfred's words brought it all back.
"I knew it!" Alfred gloated as Matthew slumped onto the bar. "I fuckin' knew it! I knew you could only hide it for so long! I knew you two were having a thing from the very beginning! I knew it!"
"We are not 'having a thing'," Matthew mumbled into the wood of the bar. "We have never 'had a thing'."
Alfred was quiet for a moment and when he spoke up again, Matthew was surprised at the quiet way he asked him, "Do you want to have a thing with her?"
Matthew blinked and sat up.
"I don't think so," he answered. And then, for some reason Matthew couldn't place (which he would later blame on alcohol loosening his tongue) he ended up telling Alfred all about the mess when he'd found the underwear, ending up slumped back over the bar again as he told the whole pathetic story.
"Well, there's no problem there!" Alfred said brightly, clapping a hand on Matthew's back. "You can appreciate the fact that she's pretty without doing anything else, you big dummy! I mean, I saw The Avengers the other day and even though Jeremy Renner has a really great butt, it doesn't mean anything! You can stand by and quietly appreciate someone's butt without wanting to do anything else with them!"
"That...was a really weird example, Al."
He did have a point though. In fact, now Matt felt extra stupid about freaking out so badly about what had happened.
"And you know what else?" Alfred blathered on. "There's an even better solution to those kinds of problems! Find someone better! There are plenty of cute girls here tonight! Just tell them you're a doctor and you'll find someone! Now go out there and repress your problems!"
"...Thanks," Matthew said. The last part of Alfred's advice was probably not that great, but he had made some important points that had surprisingly enough, turned out to be very helpful.
"Aww, you're welcome!" Alfred trilled. "I'm always happy to help out my bro with his love life!"
"You need to be quiet now."
"Hell no, not when I'm right for once."
"The key word there is 'once'."
"You know, I'm a little disappointed that you would freak over underpants. Seriously, dude, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were some kind of virgin after all that!"
"So, you pay attention to people's butts often now, eh Al?" Matthew added, trying to change the subject. "What's Ivan's butt like?"
Alfred turned a bright, cherry red and Matthew knew his subject-changing tactics were as successful as always.
"I have never looked at that creep's butt," he insisted loudly, "but if I did, I'm sure it would be disgusting! Because he's fat and extremely unattractive!"
They bantered on for a while and by the time Matthew got home, he ended up feeling much better about his life.
Sometime during that week, Matthew was typing peacefully on his computer and drinking the first of many morning coffees when out of the blue Gil burst out of the bathroom, dripping wet and only wearing a towel. Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose in stress (and with the convenient side effect of blocking the sight from his eyes and his slowly heating face from her sight). He silently repeated Alfred's oddly-useful advice to himself before he looked up again.
"Can I use your computer?" Gil asked when she had his attention.
"Dry off first, or you're going to destroy it," he insisted. And hurriedly added, "And clean up the water you dripped everywhere."
She pouted, but left the kitchen.
"And put on clothes!" Matthew added as a afterthought.
"Boo! You're no fun!" she cried out before sticking out her tongue and disappearing back into the bathroom. He sighed as the door clicked shut and focused on his laptop again, saving what he had been working on before he was going to lend it to Gil. At least the heat in his face was starting to die down now that she was gone. Not quite fast enough, though, because shortly after that Gil exited the bathroom—thankfully fully dressed—and loudly exclaimed, "Oh my God, are you blushing?"
"Of course not!" Matthew exclaimed but the sudden rush of embarrassment from the accusation made his face flush again. Gil nearly skipped in joy over to the kitchen table to leer at him.
"You totally are!" Gil crowed before reaching across the table and pinching his cheeks. Matthew yelped and flailed helplessly in response, but she only cooed, "Awww, you look like a little, blushing, virgin schoolgirl! I think I could even tie your hair into pigtails!"
"Leggo 'f my fasche," he ordered fruitlessly.
"But you look so cuuuuute!" After a short struggle, he managed to pry her hands off of his face. (At least annoying moments like this reaffirmed that he did not want to "have a thing" with her.)
"You know, you're making a pretty terrible case for getting me to let you use my stuff," he pointed out once his mouth wasn't stretched in bizarre directions. Gil pouted.
"But I need to look something up!"
"Maybe you should have thought about that before you manhandled my face," Matthew said somewhat seriously; Gil glowered at him.
"Fine, don't let me use your computer. Not like I care!" she huffed before sitting down at the table with him. She sat in silence after that and Matthew stupidly lowered his guard and took a sip.
"So I'm starting to get stretch marks, what do I do?" Gil said nonchalantly. Matthew spat coffee onto the table.
"You couldn't have waited until I swallowed?" he coughed, trying to clear his nasal passage of coffee. Gil shrugged.
"You wouldn't let me use your computer so I couldn't look it up myself. I had no choice but to ask you!" she reasoned out loud. "Seriously though, I have these freakish red patches everywhere. This is easily the most horrifying part of the never-ending nightmare that has consumed my life."
"Cocoa butter," Matthew answered once his airways were free of caffeinated beverages. "Moisturizers help skin keep its elasticity and they can reduce stretch marks."
"Oh, cool. I noticed them in the shower and I was worried that I would never be able to get rid of them," Gil sighed in relief. And because neither of them had anything in particular planned for that afternoon, the decision was made to go buy cocoa butter later that day once the two were finished with school and work.
Gil began to despair when she reached the moisturizer aisle of WalMart. The cheapest tubs of cocoa butter were only a few dollars but considering what little money she had left had to last her the rest of the month... A few dollars suddenly seemed luxurious. Contrary to what most people probably believed about her, Gil hated borrowing money. She hated owing anybody anything and if it hadn't been for the fact that clothes were necessary to avoid being slapped with public indecency fines, she wouldn't have borrowed Matt's money for her new clothes in the first place. Heck, West, that precious angel, had literally had to force her to take his money the first few times he'd offered and it still bothered her to take it. As it was, she only used what he gave her for food (not that there was anything else left after food). Looking at indulgences like fancy lotion felt like a waste of his trust.
She weighed the few extra dollars she'd have to sponge off her little brother over having red scars on her breasts and stomach for the rest of her life and after some lengthy soul searching, the cocoa butter won, victorious over her pride. The cheapest package of the stuff was tossed in the cart Matt was waiting by. She trailed after him as he went about the rest of his shopping, stopping only when they had reached the baby section.
"Is there anything you need from here?" Matthew asked her, the concern on his face turning Gil's stomach. "The baby's going to be here pretty soon. If you need anything, you should probably start looking now."
There were plenty of things Gil needed; money to pay for anything out of a store that wasn't the 99¢ store was one of the more prominent ones on the list. Apparently Matthew knew that, too, because he followed up quietly with, "If you're having trouble paying, I don't mind lending you the money."
"I mind," came tumbling out of her mouth all on its own. She scowled when she'd realized what she'd accidentally said. Matthew shrugged.
"You already owe me for the clothes. You might as well."
Did she have much of a choice? Babies needed cribs and diapers and clothes; she couldn't not buy anything. West could only lend her so much and she had no other options. Skin crawling with embarrassment and shame, Gil nodded and they ventured into the pastel pink and blue aisles.
"Let's just get some basics," Matthew offered and Gil followed him. Apparently, the first of the basics included a baby carrier. She almost cried when she looked at the prices.
"This one's a combination baby carrier and stroller, that's convenient," Matthew said awkwardly, probably trying to break the hideous silence.
"Sure," Gil agreed hollowly and picked out the most plain, cheapest one in the store. Picking out the rest of the baby supplies went much the same way. Cheap crib, cheap clothes, cheap diapers. But even the least expensive things added up and Gil couldn't stop herself from doing the mental math. The sheer volume of baby things piling up in the cart was making her more and more anxious. Her heart beat faster and her chest feel tight; Gil felt like she couldn't breathe and a nausea that she thought had long passed bubbled up in her stomach. She was starting to break when a loud squeal nearly echoed through the store.
"This is so cute!" a happily expectant woman cried out, clutching a stuffed elephant. Her friend, apparently also pregnant, was holding up a tiny dress. They both giggled and chatted away cheerfully, not even thinking about it before adding their items to carts full of cute luxuries.
"Hey, this thing is kinda cute!" Matt suddenly said brightly, holding up a truck-patterned bib. It was the last straw. Bile rose in Gil's throat and she gasped, "Gotta pee!" before taking off. She made it to the bathroom before she was sick. When the gagging stopped, she flushed the toilet and sat on the closed seat, still shaking.
It had all been too much. Matthew was more excited about her pregnancy than she was and that had to be one of the most fucked up things she'd ever witnessed. And those other women, they had looked so damn excited about their pregnancies and just this morning Gil had called hers a never-ending nightmare. The differences among the three had been so stark it had made Gil sick to her stomach. With how she'd ended up pregnant, she'd nearly forgotten that babies were normally something to be happy about, little pieces of yourself to shower with love, bring joy into your life, and all that jazz. And then there was her.
How was she supposed to actually keep this thing when she couldn't even muster a little bit of excitement or like for it? It made Gil wonder; had her own mother felt the same way? Had she once been the one called a never-ending nightmare by the person who was supposed to care for her unconditionally? And what about her grandfather? Had he, too, felt the same, burdened with a baby dumped on him by an irresponsible daughter? Could she do any better than the shit job her guardians had done with her?
She didn't know. And it made her feel worse than she'd ever felt in her life. But she wanted to do better. She wanted to try. Gil placed her hands gently on her stomach.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly to the fetus. "I've been doing a shi- I mean, a really bad job of this, haven't I?"
Almost as if in response, it kicked. Gil gently caressed the area where the kicking was, feeling a little hand or maybe it was actually a little foot press back. This... wasn't bad. She didn't even realize that she was smiling.
"Well, from now on I'm going to do better," she promised. "uh, kid? Tyke? Baby?" None of the words felt right on her tongue yet, but they didn't feel as foreign as they used to. "Whatever. We'll figure it out. But yeah, I'm gonna do right by you, okay baby? We'll be okay. We'll be okay."
Matthew checked his watch again, looking around worriedly for Gil. She'd run off looking white as a sheet; he hoped she was okay. He wasn't sure how long he'd been waiting when she came back, looking much better.
"Are you okay?" he asked just in case. She nodded and smiled.
"Yup. I'm fine." She looked fine so Matthew let himself stop worrying about her disappearance. He found himself very much relieved that she seemed to be doing much better. Of course, it was really normal to be happy that your friends were happy, too. After picking up a few more things, they rented some movies so they could have a movie night on the weekend and then headed back to the apartment.