I didn't realise it had been like six months since I updated this. Sorry about that. I want to say that I'll get this updated again before another six months passes, but I doubt I will. I do want to try and get this finished and off my projects list, but my motivation for this story is pretty much non-existent. And when new medication makes it hard for me to focus on words and stay awake for more than an hour at a time, I don't really have much time to work on this one.
Anyway, sorry it's been so long since I updated this. It was supposed to be a longer chapter so the ending might seem a little strange. It'll be finished at the start of the next chapter, though.
"Aw, look at you! Aren't you adorable!"
Bickslow looked away from the shelf stacked with jars of colourful baby food just to find a woman hovering over his shopping cart to smile at Ingrid. He was so confused that all he could do was stand there and wonder just what the fuck was happening.
"She's gorgeous," she said, bopping Ingrid on the nose. Bickslow had to refrain from wanting to just slap the strange woman's hand away. "How old is she?"
"Uh… Just about eleven months," Bickslow mumbled. "Do I know you?"
She smiled and laughed nervously for a second, straightening up to finally turn her attention to Bickslow. "Oh, not at all. I just couldn't resist saying hello to your little one. It must be rough."
"…Huh?"
"You know, looking after her by yourself. You don't see many single dads with younger children anymore. I admire you for it."
"Oh!" Bickslow couldn't help but grimace. It wasn't the first time someone had come up to him in the grocery store, but that didn't mean that he wasn't horribly uncomfortable, because he was. The last time though, he'd kind of laughed about it. This time he was just embarrassed. "I'm, uh… I'm married, actually," he admitted sheepishly. "But thank you… I think."
It was the woman's turn to be embarrassed, and she quickly tried to apologise. "Oh god! I'm… I'm sorry! I just… I assumed, because you don't have a wedding ring on and…" She shook her head and forced a nervous laugh. "Please forgive me."
"Honest mistake. Don't worry."
"W-Well, um… Have a nice day."
Bickslow only nodded as the woman took her shopping basket and carried on down the aisle. He might have just gotten on with his shopping so he could hurry up and leave had it not occurred to him that he'd just said he was married.
Admittedly, it was occasionally easier to just refer to Lucy as his wife or say that he was married, just because it was technically true. But it was almost becoming too easy. He didn't think twice about it when it came to saying he was married. It was just the natural thing to say, if anything.
That was the part that bothered him, though.
Still, the grocery store wasn't the place for Bickslow to be thinking about just how much he liked referring to Lucy as his wife. He still had half of a shopping list to get through, and when he had Ingrid with him, the sooner he got it done, the better. So, only looking back down at his daughter in the trolley to make sure that she was still preoccupied by colourful plastic rings that she was trying to shove in her mouth, Bickslow then turned his attention back to the shelves of baby food in front of him, grabbing a jar of the mashed apples and pears.
Once the shopping was done, Bickslow was back off out the front of the grocery store to get into the waiting taxi. Thankfully the ride home wasn't too long – he'd only gone to the small grocery that was in the next block over and not into the city – which ended up being a good thing since it was getting to the time of day where Ingrid was getting tired. And if Bickslow couldn't deal with her being cranky, then he knew the poor taxi driver wouldn't either.
When they reached the house, Bickslow quickly paid the fair and thanked the driver when he helped get the few shopping bags out of the boot. He held Ingrid in one arm and the plastic shopping bags in the other as he walked up the driveway to meet Lucy in front of their still mostly-empty garden beds.
Had Lucy not asked Bickslow to take Ingrid with him to the store, then he really wouldn't have. But, they'd been in the new house for a couple of months at that point, and while all of the new furniture had been in it for weeks, and most of the boxes had been unpacked and set away, there'd still been a few things to do around the house. Like, the gardens. And with the weather warming up as summer continued on, Lucy had decided it was time to get to work on making everything perfect before the twins came and while she still had time.
So, that day, it had been all about doing some chores and getting the flowers planted in the garden. Despite the large trees at the front of the yard and hanging over the road, they still had some sunny spots on their lawn against the house, and Lucy had decided that she wanted to plant some roses.
Lucy smiled as she dusted the dirt off her gloves and then pulled them off to set them down on the grass. "I was wondering when you'd be back," she said. They'd only needed a few things at the store, but Bickslow had been gone for over an hour, and last she checked, it didn't take an hour to buy baby food.
"Well, I was taking my time."
"Clearly," Lucy laughed. "Help me up, will you?" Bickslow set the grocery bags down so he could reach for Lucy's outstretched hand and pull her to her feet. Beside her, Freya was still snoozing in the sun and Lucy could only sigh and shake her head. As it turns out, the puppy was lazy. "Anyway. Did you get the lasagne sheets for tonight?" she asked, picking up the grocery bags to then follow Bickslow back into the house. She whistled to get Freya's attention, and waited until her ears had pricked up and she'd looked up and towards her before going in.
"Ah, shit. I knew I forgot something." Bickslow sighed. "Want me to go back and get them?"
"No, it's fine. We can just use up what's in the fridge, or order pizza or something."
"That works. Well, I'm just gonna go put Ingrid down for a bit."
Lucy nodded as she set the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Before Bickslow could leave to head upstairs, she turned back to call out, "Oh, wait!" He stopped and looked back with an eyebrow raised. "When you come back down, can you please unload the washing machine and take the basket out the back for me?" Lucy asked. At twenty-eight weeks, moving was really beginning to become a problem. Or, really, just existing was becoming a problem, but that was fine. Still, their washer was a top-loader, and at that point, Lucy could no longer reach the bottom of it, not even if she tried to do so sideways – which, really, just ended up hurting her back because her spine really wasn't meant to bend that way.
Bickslow couldn't help but laugh, but it was mostly due to the slight blush on Lucy's cheeks. "Yeah, sure thing."
By the time Lucy was finished tidying up their bathroom and then checking on Ingrid before heading to bed, Bickslow was already sitting up in bed and mindlessly rubbing Freya's ears. The fact that the dog was on the bed wasn't surprising to Lucy, since Bickslow had managed to convince her to let the dog onto the bed since the day he'd brought the border collie puppy home a few weeks earlier. Freya now slept at the foot of their bed each and every night, although she usually crawled up towards the pillows in the middle of the night and stayed there. Still, the dog wasn't what bothered Lucy. It was the fact that Bickslow was seemingly stuck staring into space and looking like something was worrying him.
"Are you okay?" Lucy asked as she folded the blanket back to climb into bed.
Bickslow's head snapped up. "Huh? What?"
"You look like you have something on your mind," she said. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Oh. I, uh… I don't know…" he mumbled, looking back down to Freya again. "I'm just…"
"Bicks, come on. Talk to me."
Bickslow let out a heavy sigh before coming to admit, "I'm just thinking about how everything might've ended up if you hadn't been pregnant."
"…You're not changing your mind about all of this, are you?" Lucy asked. She almost didn't even want to ask the question, but that was what it sounded like to her ears.
"Oh. No. God no." He would admit that it did sound a little bit like that, but that really wasn't the case at all. For the most part though, Bickslow still wasn't entirely sure why he was so excited about the twins, or why he was so happy with being a dad to Ingrid and being able to do it all right next to Lucy… But he was happy regardless. It was just that he'd started thinking about what he'd said in the grocery store that morning, and he really couldn't help but wonder if everything still would've ended up the way it had, had Lucy not ended up being pregnant.
He was almost inclined to think that they wouldn't, because they wouldn't have had as much of a reason to try and make their lives really their own.
"Then…" Lucy pressed.
Bickslow shrugged slightly. "I was just thinking, that's all."
"But why?"
He shrugged again. Telling Lucy that he'd probably been hit on in the damn baby food aisle didn't seem like the best idea, so he wasn't even going to bring that up. "Because… Because the babies are going to be here soon, and… And I'm thinking about lots of things lately," he said instead. It wasn't exactly a lie, either. He had been thinking about everything, although it had mostly been about how fucking chaotic his life would be with three babies.
"So you wondered if we would still be together if I hadn't been pregnant," Lucy surmised. "Or if I'd lost them."
"It sounds shittier when you say it."
"I only said the words you meant to say."
Bickslow shifted, sliding down the bed slightly and making the dog move out of the way just to stand, walk around in a circle three times, and then curl up next to him with her head resting next to his foot. Lucy had a point. He just didn't really want to admit it. Bickslow didn't want to have been thinking about any of it either, because he knew there wasn't much point to it, but he still hadn't been able to help himself.
"Well… I like to think we still would've ended up like this," Lucy said softly. She'd said to Bickslow once before that she liked to think that all of it was because of him anyway, that the reason they were married and had children together in that world was from Bickslow loving her in their own world. She knew it was crazy, too, but stranger things had happened. Being in that world was proof of that alone. And when Lucy was inclined to think that all of it was because of Bickslow, she was inclined to think that everything that had happened, had meant to be. That included falling almost ridiculously in love with the moron next to her.
"Why, though?"
"Why do I think that?" Bickslow only nodded and Lucy waited a moment before she answered, "Because I think I see the same thing in you as my other self saw in this world's Bickslow." They might've had their problems, and they might've each made their mistakes, but they'd still gotten married, and they'd still had Ingrid, and Lucy believed that there was a good reason for it. She chose to believe that it had all meant to be in some way or another, and that none of it had been a total mistake – not their other selves deciding to start a life together, and definitely not them for deciding to take control of the lives they'd stepped into and make them their own.
"Which is what, exactly?"
"Who knows." She couldn't help but giggle when Bickslow scowled at her. "Oh, come on. I'm kidding!" Mostly.
He let out a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine," he mumbled. "But… It still doesn't matter anyway. No point in worrying about how things could've been when things are fine the way they are." Bickslow still wouldn't change anything about his life right then either. It hadn't exactly been the smoothest path to that point, but that was irrelevant.
"Now that, I agree with. On another note though… There was something I wanted to talk to you about."
"…That sounds suspicious."
Lucy wished she hadn't gotten comfortable when she sat up again slowly, tucking a pillow behind her back as she looked to Bickslow and said, "We need to buy another car."
Bickslow bit the inside of his cheek and stared back at Lucy for a moment. Without a word, he pushed the blanket back and climbed out of bed. That wasn't a conversation he wanted to have. Not even a little bit.
Lucy could only sigh as she watched Bickslow walk around the end and out of the room. "Bicks, come on…" The dog that usually followed Bickslow everywhere around the house didn't even lift her head. Lucy wasn't so stupid that she didn't know Bickslow was avoiding the conversation, either, because she did. And as much as part of her wanted to just let Bickslow have his space, she just couldn't. She'd given him so much time and space since the accident that she wouldn't do it anymore.
When she managed to pull herself out of bed, Lucy first went to Ingrid's room in search of Bickslow. Only finding Ingrid sound asleep in her crib, Lucy ventured downstairs. The light coming from the back corner of the house gave away Bickslow's location, so when she reached the kitchen, Lucy wasn't surprised to find Bickslow with his back to her.
"No," Bickslow said when he heard Lucy sigh behind him.
"To what?"
"To all of it." He shut the fridge door once he had the jug of cold water and pulled a clean glass from the dish rack. "No to a car, and no to the whole topic of it."
"Bicks…" Lucy sighed. She had a feeling that it was going to be harder than she thought to convince Bickslow that they really did need another car. "You know we need another one…"
"No we don't."
"We do," she insisted. "We can't just keep using a taxi to go everywhere. Or, well, you can't keep using a taxi."
Bickslow shrugged as he took a sip. "Sure we can." There were trains and busses too. There was no need for them to have another car. It was safer for them to not have another car.
"No, Bickslow." Lucy reached to take the glass from his hand and set it aside. Bickslow only scowled at her when she stood leaning against the counter with her other hand on her hip. "We need a car. We have a baby, if you haven't noticed. We have two more on the way as well. Do you really think we can manage without our own car?" she questioned. "What's going to happen when we want to go out somewhere? Do you really think a taxi driver is going to appreciate having three babies in his car? And we can't even do that anyway because we won't have any car seats!"
Bickslow shrugged again. "We just won't all go out together. Simple."
"I'm not spending the rest of my life in this house, thank you very much."
"Not the rest of your life. Just until the kids are old enough to actually walk or something."
"You are absolutely insane if you think that's going to happen."
"Yeah, love you too…" Bickslow muttered.
Lucy sighed quietly. Perhaps that was a little too harsh. She wasn't really trying to be, but Bickslow was far too stubborn sometimes and it was hard to get through to him sometimes, and it was frustrating. Still, Lucy knew why he was so against not buying another car. She just didn't want Bickslow to worry about it anymore. "Look, I know how you feel, okay?" she said softly.
"Do you?" Bickslow shot back almost too quickly. Lucy tried to ignore the slight venom in it. "Because I don't think you do."
"I know you're worried about us getting into another accident if we get another car, and I know you're scared of driving again just in case it does happen."
"Can you blame me?" he whispered. He wasn't even going to try and deny it because Lucy was right, just as she always was. And he knew that they'd talked about all of that before, about how the crash hadn't even been his fault and that he didn't need to still feel guilty for it, but all of those feelings still lingered. Talking with the counsellor had helped, but Bickslow had mostly just accepted that he probably wasn't ever going to stop blaming himself for it at least a little bit.
"No," Lucy said. She knew she'd be the same if it had been reversed. "But it's in the past. You can't keep dwelling on it. You really do need to move on from it, Bicks."
"Why? Just to let it happen again?"
"It won't happen again."
"It might."
"Bicks…"
He turned away from the counter just to step closer to Lucy, arm raising to gently let his fingers brush against her cheek and lightly trace over small pink scar right above her left eyebrow. Bickslow hated that she had it at all. He knew Lucy didn't really care about it, but he did. He was the one who had to see it every time he looked at her. "I can't lose you," he murmured. "I can't lose any of you. Not Ingrid, not the twins. I can't."
"I know that," Lucy whispered. "And you won't."
"I almost did, though."
"That's not true."
"It is. And I don't want to risk that happening again."
"Bickslow, you won't," Lucy insisted. "I promise. Nothing will happen."
"You can't guarantee that."
He has a point. "Maybe not," she agreed. "At least think about it though? Will you do that for me?"
And, if it was for Lucy, then Bickslow would at least do that. He doubted he'd change his mind on the subject, but he could at least consider it. With a sigh of defeat, he gave a small nod and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Lucy's head. "Fine. I'll think about it."
"So, come on, tell me," Laxus began, picking up the napkin that had come with his lunch order to wipe his mouth. "What's fucking Blondie like? It's gotta be different 'cause she's knocked up, right?"
Freed choked on his salad as he elbowed the former leader. "Laxus! You can't ask that!"
"What? Why not?"
"Because it's inappropriate! Hasn't being a parent taught you anything?"
"Apparently not." As far as Laxus was concerned, it was a perfectly acceptable question. He knew they were sleeping together, because duh. He was just curious to know whether the whole pregnant thing made a difference.
Bickslow only shook his head. For once, he was with Freed on the whole inappropriate issue. Perhaps being a parent had taught him a few things.
That being said, he couldn't just ignore Laxus' question. Oh no. He had no interest in actually disclosing anything about his sex life (or, lack thereof), partly because that would kind of be weird, and partly because Lucy would probably kill him. But, what Bickslow could do, was point out the fact that Laxus' question was honestly just fucking stupid.
With a sigh, Bickslow looked to Laxus and said flatly, "Aside from the fact that it's honestly just fucking creepy that you would ask that, it's really just a stupid question. She's nearly eight months pregnant. With twins. And I am quite certain that she refers to herself as a human whale at least once a day. Do you really think she wants anything to do with my dick right now? Or any dick for that matter?" He was barely even allowed to touch her on a good day anymore, so actually fucking her was completely out of the question. For the most part, Bickslow didn't really get it, but he wasn't going to question it.
It made her cry. Everything made her cry.
"Anyway," Evergreen announced, clearing her throat. She felt a more appropriate conversation topic was needed. "Have you picked out names for the babies yet?" she asked as she kicked her shiny stilettos off and tucked her feet under her on the lounge.
Bickslow waited until he'd swallowed the bite of his lunch before he answered, "No, but Lucy has been set on Nathan for the boy for the last two days."
"Nathan? God no. That's horrible."
"I know."
"When is she having them again?" Laxus chimed in.
"Hopefully at the end of October," Bickslow answered, pausing to take another bite of the wrap he'd picked up from the café downstairs. "So… Ten weeks now, I think. Or eleven. Or something like that."
"Shit, really?"
Bickslow grimaced and gave a solemn nod. As excited as he was for the twins, he was downright fucking terrified, and quite honestly, he wasn't even ready for them. And, sure, he'd technically had the last nearly six months to get himself ready for it, and he still had at least another two and a half to go, but even that wasn't going to be enough.
It had been different with Ingrid. He'd had no choice but to just accept that he had shit to do now, and that had been before he'd really seen her as his actual daughter. With the twins though, it had been them the whole way along. They'd been the ones to decide whether they'd even have the babies at all. So with the twins, it just felt more real to Bickslow. Like it was actually his life and that he wasn't just stepping into someone else's shoes.
And that was terrifying.
Thankfully, Lucy had yet to catch on to the fact that he was usually up in the middle of the night panicking over the arrival of the twins. He didn't want her knowing it, either. Turns out, an eleven-month-old infant was a great listener.
"Well, I'm sure they'll be here before you know it," Freed offered kindly.
That, Bickslow didn't doubt.
"Anyway," Evergreen began then. "How's Ingrid? Is she walking yet?"
"Ah, no, thankfully. But with how often she crawls around after the dog, I'm beginning to think she might actually start believing she's a dog herself."
"Aw, that's adorable!"
"No… No, it is not," Bickslow insisted. Even worse was that Ingrid was speedy as well. How, he had no idea, but it was becoming difficult to keep up with her sometimes. One minute she'd be right in front of him playing with the blocks, and the next, she'd be gone and Bickslow would spend the next five minutes wondering just how the fuck she made it into the kitchen.
Evergreen only rolled her eyes.
Lucy couldn't help but groan when she heard the doorbell. She'd just sat down after taking Freya for her walk (because Bickslow certainly hadn't been doing it) and finally getting Ingrid down for a nap, and the last thing Lucy wanted to be doing was getting back up. It was hard to get up, damn it.
A knock on the door came next, and Lucy let out a sigh and finally decided to pull herself up from the comfortable lounge. "I'm coming… Hold on…" She'd stopped being able to see her feet nearly two months earlier, and now that she felt like she was the size of a literal hot air balloon, Lucy considered it a win when she didn't almost topple over as soon as she did get up from sitting down.
As she climbed the two tiny steps that led out of their slightly sunken lounge room and into the foyer, her feet protested and Lucy definitely considered moving to a house that had zero stairs. She didn't like stairs. Not anymore, at least.
Eventually, she reached the front door, and did her best to muster a polite smile for the idiot on the other side.
"Wow, would you look at you!"
"Eh?" She didn't even get a chance to properly look at the man standing on the front steps before he was reaching forward to rest his hands on either side of her belly. She had half a mind to punch his face in – she was not a fan of people touching her those days, not even Bickslow – but she was honestly just too stunned to really do anything. There was something familiar about the black-haired man, though.
"I can't believe Bicks never told me!" he said, drawing his hands back to his side when Lucy made a point of stepping back slightly. "Where is that moronic son of mine anyway?"
Of all the people to show up at her house, Bickslow's father was definitely not one Lucy had expected. And she had a feeling that Bickslow wouldn't have expected it either since he'd never once mentioned his parents in the seven months they'd been there. Still, while Lucy honestly didn't doubt that the man in front of her was Bickslow's father, especially now that she'd had a short moment to study his features – their faces were the same shape, and their eyes would be the same had his father's not been a warm amber – she didn't know why he was there at all.
Lucy stepped out of the way to invite her apparent father-in-law in, seemingly against her better judgement since he was effectively a stranger to her. "He's, uh… He's at work," she answered.
"Ah. Pity," he sighed. "Thought we'd grab a bite to eat. Haven't heard from him for a while."
"I guess he's just been busy…" Lucy mumbled in response. She didn't know what kind of relationship the other Bickslow had had with his father, so she couldn't even come up with any other kind of excuse for her Bickslow. Although she supposed it was kind of true anyway. "The last few months have been a little, um… hectic."
"I don't doubt it. You look like you're about ready to explode."
Must not strangle. Must not strangle. Must not strangle. "Yeah, I suppose…" she laughed nervously. "Still got a couple of months left, though."
"Months? How many you got in there?"
"Just two…"
"Huh. No kidding. Well, I would've congratulated you earlier and all, but…" He shrugged. "No one told me anything."
Lucy suspected he was fishing for some kind of apology, but she just wasn't going to give him one. Instead, she only gave him another polite smile as she closed the door again. "Like I said, things have been a little hectic."
She led him through the house to the kitchen to offer him a drink and then sat down on one of the lounges at the front of the room. Lucy had almost forgotten the discomfort that came from having to pretend to be her other self. It had been the same with Claire and Mark at first, but she'd mostly been able to forget about it since she'd come to appreciate them and actually see them as her friends. But with Bickslow's supposed father, that feeling was back, and Lucy couldn't help but wonder if it was the universe's way of reminding her that it still wasn't really her life yet. When she was constantly having to pretend to be that other Lucy, she really did think that it was just always going to be that way – that whenever she came close to truly forgetting about everything else, something would come up and remind her that she probably didn't even belong in that world at all.
Right then though, Lucy didn't have the time to worry about it.
"So anyway! How did you find us here?" she decided to ask. She was definitely more than a little curious about it, since she knew full well that Bickslow hadn't told him. "I guess we forgot to tell you that we were moving, too…"
"Your neighbours told me when I stopped by your old apartment," he said. "That nice woman with the long hair gave me the address. What's her name again?"
"Claire?"
"Yes, that's it! Ah, lovely woman. She makes the best brownies."
Lucy sighed and shook her head. "I see…" She hoped that it was because Claire knew Bickslow's father. The thought that her former neighbour might've given out her new address to a complete stranger was just a little worrying, though.
Before Lucy could ask anything else and force the conversation, the baby monitor on the kitchen bench sounded and Lucy tried not to let her relief show. Any other time and she might've just been annoyed, especially since she'd just put Ingrid down, but right then, her daughter was her saviour.
"Ah, sounds like someone's a little cranky."
"Yeah… I'm, just, uh… I'm going to go deal with her…" Lucy stood as quickly as she could manage to waddle out to the staircase and up to the second floor. She still had no idea why Ingrid was awake and crying, and as weirdly glad as she was for the timing of it, she was also worried since she hated hearing Ingrid cry.
She reached Ingrid's bedroom and turned the light on quickly. "Shh, shh, it's okay." Pushing down the railing, Lucy reached into the crib to lift Ingrid out and bring her to her chest. "Mama's here now. It's alright," she whispered.
She didn't think that Ingrid was hungry, since she'd been fed before. It felt stuffy in the room though, so Lucy considered the fact that Ingrid might've just been a little warm. After opening up the window facing the quiet street to let some air into the room, Lucy went about getting Ingrid into something cooler, hoping that was the cause for her crying. Lucy assumed she was right when Ingrid stopped crying a few minutes later.
Even with Ingrid having stopped crying and returned to her usual grabby, affectionate self (which Lucy adored, just not so much when Ingrid thought ears were meant to be pulled on), Lucy didn't go back downstairs. She dreaded the mere thought of going back downstairs to talk to Bickslow's apparent father. She had no idea what she was supposed to say to him, or what she was supposed to answer with when he asked her how things had been. It had been difficult enough as it was to lie to people like Claire and Mark for all that time and pretend that they were still the same people who had lived across the hall from them for the last few years. But to do that again with Bickslow's dad? Lucy just wasn't capable of that, at least not alone.
With Ingrid on her hip, Lucy went to find her phone where she'd left it on charge in her bedroom. It was just a little before noon, so Lucy knew she wouldn't exactly be disturbing Bickslow if she called him right then. She knew for a fact that he barely did anything during the day, since half the time, he was texting her about how much he hated contracts.
She sat down on the edge of the bed to get off her feet and set Ingrid down in the middle. Lucy was careful to keep an eye on her daughter crawling around the bed as she found Bickslow's number on her phone and brought it to her ear. Bickslow picked up after four rings, not to Lucy's surprise.
"What's up? Why are you calling me?" Bickslow asked. "Wait, nothing's wrong with the twins, right?"
Lucy couldn't help but roll her eyes. "No, nothing is wrong," she said. "I wanted to see if you were busy today."
"Uh, no. Not really. Kind of a slow day, actually. I'm bored out of my freakin' mind."
"Oh. Well, I was thinking I could come visit you and we could go out for lunch somewhere?" Lucy suggested. Admittedly, it would be like killing two birds with one stone if Bickslow agreed to it. First, she'd get to deal with the man sitting downstairs in her living room, and secondly, she'd get to go out for a change. She didn't really get the opportunity to go out that often those days, not unless the hospital or the grocery store counted (which they didn't, at least not in Lucy's mind).
"Lunch? Yeah, okay, that sounds good. Where do you want to go?"
"I don't know. We'll decide on something when I get there." There were plenty of places in the city to choose from anyway. "I'm going to just get Ingrid ready and I'll see you in a bit, okay?"
"Alright. Drive safe, I'll see you soon."
"I will." Ending the short call, Lucy set her phone down again to pick up Ingrid before she could crawl right off the edge of the bed. "Nuh-uh, not today, missy."
Quickly, Lucy went about getting ready to head out. She grabbed Ingrid's bag from the closet before she went and put on some shoes and grabbed her purse. She finally returned downstairs a few minutes later with the bright bag over her shoulder and Ingrid on her other side – although by the time she did get downstairs, she was admittedly having to pause for a moment to catch her breath. It was getting way too difficult to wrangle Ingrid those days.
She walked back into the living room with a bright smile. "How about we go visit Bicks at work and grab some lunch?" she suggested. Lucy doubted that the man would turn her down, so she was already grabbing the new car keys off the hook in the kitchen and heading back for the front door.
It wasn't until Lucy had gotten to Bickslow's building that she realised that she hadn't bought a new pram for Ingrid yet. They'd gotten a new car seat and everything else, but not a pram. Although, it wasn't like there was much room for one in the back of the car anyway, since most of the space inside the car was being taken up by the actual seats. It just meant she'd have to buy a pram that could fold up easily.
Still, without the pram, it meant Lucy was left having to hold Ingrid the entire time, and she was not in a good mood. Lunch was disturbing her nap time.
Thankfully though, Bickslow's father had been quiet most of the trip back into the city, save from a few comments once they'd gotten into the elevator about how he was surprised his son still worked for his moronic childhood friend.
Reaching Bickslow's floor, Lucy stepped out of the elevator with her unnamed father-in-law following behind her. She passed Bickslow's assistant by a row of desks and smiled politely at him. For the life of her, she couldn't remember his name, so she wasn't even going to try and greet him properly. He had such a fresh, young face that Lucy couldn't help but find cute though. She hadn't told Bickslow that. Oh no.
"Oh! I wasn't aware you'd be visiting today, Lucy!" James said as he shuffled the binders in his arms to hold them more securely, pushing the bridge of his glasses up his nose with his free hand. "Mr. Thero—" He paused to correct himself. "Bickslow should be in his office."
"Thank you," Lucy said. Although she'd already known that Bickslow was in his office. And if he hadn't been, then she knew he would've been returning soon anyway, so it was fine.
So off she went, trying her best not to actually waddle the rest of the way, although her feet hurt and her back hurt and Ingrid was getting damn heavy. Lucy's saving grace was that Bickslow's office wasn't that far away, so she reached it quickly (at least by her standards).
Bickslow got up from his desk as soon as he saw Lucy through the blinds in his office – it's not like she was hard to miss, not that he said that to her face or anything. "Hey! Oh, and there's my favourite girl!" He reached to take Ingrid off Lucy's hands, only quickly kissing her cheek first before he finally got to cuddle his daughter. "Someone's not in a very good mood today," he mumbled, seeing Ingrid's pout.
"She's tired, I think," Lucy sighed, finally getting to sit down on the leather sofa on the back wall.
"Why did you suggest getting lunch then?"
"Um, because I thought it would be nice if we all—wait…" Lucy was only just registering that Bickslow's father hadn't followed her into the office. No wonder Bickslow was questioning it. "Damn it, where the hell did he go?"
"Where did who go?" Bickslow asked. That was when an uncomfortably familiar face walked through the door, and Bickslow almost thought he was seeing things. "Dad?"
"Oh, sorry. I was just talking to your assistant out there. Lovely fellow," he said, grinning apologetically. "I have to admit, the other one was much nicer to look at."
Bickslow didn't even know what to think. He was pretty sure the last time he'd actually seen his father, Bickslow had punched him in the face and broken his nose. He couldn't have been any older than fifteen or sixteen either, but he hadn't thought about it since. But that had been in his world. The father Bickslow knew and remembered had been a prick and Bickslow had been glad to get him out of his life for good. Maybe things were different in that world; maybe his father in that world was actually a decent person.
Bickslow just didn't know. And he didn't know why the fuck he was there right then, either, or why Lucy had brought him there. "What are you… What are you doing here?" he asked, hoisting Ingrid up on his side as he continued to stare dumbfoundedly at his father.
"What, so now you don't even want to talk to your old man on Father's Day?"
Father's Day?! Lucy inwardly panicked as she realised that she'd had absolutely no idea what day it was. The only thing that made her feel a little better was that Bickslow hadn't known either, judging by the look of surprise on his face.
"Right, yeah… Sorry," Bickslow mumbled. "I just, um… I wasn't expecting to see you, you know?"
"Well, that was obvious. Anyway, are we gonna go get something to eat or what?"
Now Bickslow could see why Lucy had suggested they go out for lunch. Well, sort of, at least. His father showing up… That was the last thing he had expected, and if he hadn't expected it, then Lucy most certainly wouldn't have even considered it ever happening. "Yeah, sure. In a sec, I guess…" Bickslow said. Maybe going out would be a good thing anyway.
His father nodded and pointed back to Bickslow's open door. "Where's the nearest bathroom first?" he asked.
"Uh, at the end of the hall. Right out this door, and then turn right again when you get to the hallway."
"Gotcha."
Bickslow waited until he was sure his father wasn't just going to randomly walk back in again before he looked to Lucy still sitting on the sofa. He really needed to know what he'd missed. "What the fuck is he doing here?" he hissed.
"How am I supposed to know? I don't even know his name!" Lucy said.
"Wait, you don't?"
"No. Why on earth would I know his name? You've never even mentioned your parents to me. I wasn't even sure who he was until he asked where his moronic son was." Although Bickslow actually calling him dad did made Lucy feel a little better about assuming who he was.
"It's Oscar. And wait, that's what he said?" Bickslow shook his head. His father calling him moronic to Lucy wasn't exactly a concern right then. "Doesn't matter," he muttered. "What happened, then? What did he say?"
Lucy shrugged as Bickslow sat down next to her. "Nothing, really…" she said. "He showed up at the door, I had no idea who he was until he said… Well, that. And then he just asked where we'd been for the last few months since he hadn't heard from you since the beginning of the year…"
"How did he even know about the house?"
"Claire told him."
"Great." Bickslow rubbed the side of his face as he sat Ingrid down on his lap for a second. So now I have stupid neighbours to deal with too. Awesome. Sighing, Bickslow glanced back to the door before he asked, "So that's why you called me and suggested lunch, right? Because he showed up?"
"I didn't know what I was supposed to do…" Lucy mumbled. "I mean, I didn't know his name or if he really was your dad, and he was looking for you anyway, so…"
"Yeah, I get it. I probably would've done the same thing if your dad had shown up out of blue."
"Well, luckily for you, both my parents are long dead, so you don't have anything to worry about."
Bickslow wasn't sure whether to laugh or be worried over what had just come out of Lucy's mouth. Morbid wasn't exactly her style, but that didn't change the fact that he found it oddly comforting to know he wasn't going to have to deal with Lucy's parents ever showing up. If he could hardly handle his own turning up, how he was expected to handle his girlfriend's?
Bickslow arrived back home late in the evening to find his father still hanging around. Lunch had only been an hour, but Bickslow had seemed to be the only one who had actually taken delight in it. For the most part, all they'd really talked about was Ingrid, the twins, or what Oscar had been up to for the last few months. Bickslow had quickly realised that he didn't at all care what his father had to talk about, but Lucy had for some reason enjoyed actually talking to him. That, or she was just really good at being nice – so good that even Bickslow had been fooled.
Still, once Bickslow had needed to go back to work, Lucy had of course decided to invite Oscar back to the house so he could spend some time with Ingrid and they could continue catching up on everything. Bickslow still didn't know whether his father in that world was as much of a dick as his other father had been, but he found that he didn't really care to find out, either. His life had been going pretty great without his dad being in it, and Bickslow didn't want to change that.
It didn't help that he wasn't exactly all that capable of forgetting about all the shitty things his real father had done, either. It had been hard to look at the man pulling stupid faces at his daughter over lunch and not see the man who Bickslow would forever blame for his mother's death. He couldn't just forget about that, even if they were in a different world.
Freya greeted him at the door once he walked in, jumping up at him and wagging her tail as she waited to be picked up. She'd grown a lot since he'd brought her home, but that didn't stop him from picking up the fluffy creature to cuddle her.
"About time you got back," Oscar commented as Bickslow set the dog down on the lounge in the living room. Lucy hated the dog being allowed on the furniture, but more than once, Bickslow had caught her patting Freya while she slept over her lap. "Is this what time he usually gets home now?"
"No, not always…" Lucy said. "Some days he just has to work a little late to make up for when he comes home early."
"Right, of course," Oscar scoffed. "Well, you gotta be able to afford this flash house of yours somehow, am I right?"
Bickslow only watched him carefully while making his way slowly to Lucy. The only reason he was late that day was because he'd gone out for lunch with them. He usually worked through his lunch break just so he was able to get home to Lucy and Ingrid as early as he could. As long as he got his work done, Laxus and Makarov didn't really care what time he left most of the time. He knew Lucy didn't really care when he got home either, as long as he at least texted her to let her know if he'd be later than normal.
But why his dad had an issue with him not getting home until a quarter to six, Bickslow really wasn't sure. He didn't really want to know, either.
He kissed Lucy gently on the top of her head once he'd walked around the kitchen counter. "Where's Ingrid?" he asked quietly.
"Upstairs. I was about to go get her ready for bed."
"I can do it."
"Oh. Are you sure?"
"Yeah. 'Course." He figured that Lucy wanted him to stay downstairs and talk to his dad, but he really had no interest in doing so. Even then, putting Ingrid to bed was his favourite part of his day, assuming Lucy just didn't do it herself. He was out almost the whole day during the week so he didn't get much time with Ingrid, so he really couldn't help but love that brief window at the end of every evening where he got to somewhat unwind and just cuddle his kid for a little while.
"Well, okay then." Lucy nodded and smiled up at him quickly. "Dinner should be ready by the time you're done."
Half an hour later, Bickslow came back down the stairs to find Oscar standing at the bottom of them and clearly waiting for him. "Are you leaving?" he asked, hoping that the man was finally going to be going back to his own home and leaving him the fuck alone.
Oscar chuckled and shook his head. "Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Honestly, I would."
"Anyway, come on, we're going out."
Bickslow raised his eyebrows at the man as he beckoned him over to the door. "Uh, no we're not," Bickslow insisted. "I'm gonna stay here and eat, but you can go and do whatever you want." Besides, even if he hadn't wanted to eat, the last thing Bickslow wanted to be doing right then was going anywhere with his father. He just didn't have the energy to put up with him and pretend like he actually cared about the man.
"Bicks, don't be like that," Lucy sighed as she came from the kitchen.
"Be like what?"
"You're being rude," she said quietly. "Besides, I messed up dinner so you're better off going with him."
"That's fine, we can just order like, pizza or something," Bickslow said.
Lucy shook her head. "I already ordered some, but I didn't order one for you, so go on, just go with him." Messing up dinner really had been an accident, but she supposed it was for the best anyway. Bickslow would get to catch up with his father, and Lucy would get to eat an entire pizza to herself and just watch a movie or two with Ingrid and the dog. "Come on, it's just a few drinks. I'm sure you can handle that. Do it for me if you don't want to do it for your dad."
Bickslow groaned. When it came to Lucy, there wasn't much Bickslow wasn't willing to do. Right then, he really seemed to hate it though, because he could think of so many better things he could be doing with his time, rather than sitting at a bar and playing nice with his father. "You know what? I really hate you," he mumbled, pocketing his house keys and his wallet as Lucy handed them back to him.
"Nuh-uh. No you don't," she murmured, standing on her toes to quickly press a kiss to his lips. "Your cab's already here, so you better go."
"Fine. But I'm not staying for long, okay? Just a couple beers and then I'll be coming home."
"Uh-huh, sure thing. Have fun, you two!"
Bickslow continued to scowl over his shoulder as he finally went to the door where his father was waiting for him. "Jeez, you make it sound like it's a chore getting a drink with your old man," Oscar joked.
Bickslow had never been very fond of chores.
The fifteen minute drive into the city to get to a bar had quite possibly been the longest fifteen minutes of Bickslow's life. Oscar had tried making small talk to fill the silence (and time), but Bickslow hadn't really had anything to say to the man so he'd mostly stayed silent.
It was only once they reached the bar and sat down that Oscar decided he'd had enough of it and asked, "Why are you in such a foul mood today?"
"I'm not in a foul mood."
"You are so. You've been shitty ever since I showed up. What, are you too good for old man now?"
Yes. Bickslow shrugged.
"Kid, come on. I get no calls, no texts, nothing from you for an entire year," Oscar said, "And now when I show up to ask what the fuck's been going on, you're like this. What happened? What did I do?"
Had it been anyone else sitting in front of him, Bickslow wouldn't have hesitated from just saying that he should've taken the silence as a hint and gotten on with his life. But it was his father, and he couldn't do that. Bickslow still didn't really know what kind of terms Oscar had been on with his other self, and he still didn't really want to know, but he still had to make an effort to have it seem like everything was normal and nothing had changed.
And the fact that he was having to do all of that again after all those months just drained him. It had been easy to pretend to be someone else when he still hadn't really known what was going on. But now that he'd settled in, and now that he'd done his best to make the situation work, having to go back to pretending was just so difficult and Bickslow didn't have the energy or the patience to do it anymore.
But he had to. And right then, he was doing it because Lucy had asked him to. Nothing else.
"Just been busy," he mumbled.
"Yeah, so I've heard," Oscar muttered. "But hey, you're finally getting that son now! That's gotta be exciting."
"Uh, yeah, I guess." As exciting (and terrifying) as it was, Bickslow was sure he'd still be just as ecstatic had it been two girls – or even two boys, for that matter.
"I remember you saying you hoped it was a boy the first time."
"Are you sure? I don't remember saying that."
Oscar shook his head. "Nope, I remember it clearly. Because it was your birthday and you came home and got fucking plastered and passed out in your old bedroom," he recalled, chuckling quietly to himself. "Told you if it was the girl, the kid would end up exactly like her bitch of a mother, and then you started crying about how you can't raise a girl and then whined about how you wished it was a boy."
Bickslow didn't think it sounded like something he'd say, but then again, his other self had kind of been an idiot so anything was possible. But for the most part, Bickslow wasn't worried about the things his other self had done and said right then. He was more concerned about his father, because the more he talked, the more Bickslow grew to hate him, too. He was far too close to the father Bickslow actually knew, and that wasn't a good thing.
"Well, calling Lucy a bitch wasn't really necessary," Bickslow said quietly.
"Would you prefer whore?"
"Stop."
"I just call it like I see it." Oscar shrugged.
"Yeah, well, she's your daughter-in-law and the mother of your only grand-children, so try having a little respect."
"Yeah, whatever," Oscar scoffed as he leant back in the booth. "Last I heard, you two were splitting up anyway. What's the deal with that?"
Bickslow shrugged. "We just worked things out."
"Or, my guess is she got herself knocked up again because she knew you wouldn't leave if she was."
"That's not what happened." Or at least Bickslow was pretty sure that wasn't what had happened. He didn't think any Lucy in any universe would be capable of doing that.
Oscar was still sure he was right. He shook his head, almost slamming his empty tumbler down onto the table. "I fucking told you it was a mistake marrying her, and now look where you are," he spat. "Women. All they do is dig their fucking claws in, and the minute you start to get away from them, they pull you back in and brainwash you into thinking it was your idea."
Bickslow could only silently sip at his drink. He found it just a little peculiar that a few hours earlier Oscar had been the best of friends with Lucy. Now he was showing his true colours, and while it didn't exactly surprise Bickslow that that was the case, he didn't think Lucy would be all too pleased to know what kind of things her father-in-law was saying behind her back. "It wasn't a mistake, and Lucy isn't like that," Bickslow said.
"Sure. Sure," he mumbled. "I'd say that you at least have that assistant of yours to look forward to, since you're sure as hell not going to be getting any from that wife of yours from a while, but I'm guessing she's gone too, judging by that dumbass in the office today."
"What, you mean Veronica?"
Oscar considered it for a moment, tilting his head slightly. "Sexy name, sexy legs? Yeah, that's it," Oscar said. Bickslow couldn't help but cringe a little. "Let me guess, you told Lucy you were fucking her?"
"Yes, because she deserved to know," Bickslow answered. He didn't know whether his other self had planned on telling his wife, but Bickslow really hoped he had. Still, the fact that his father knew was just a little worrying.
Oscar shook his head. "Come on, I raised you better than this. Rule number one of having a side piece is not telling the fucking wife." He sighed through his nose and hung his head slightly in disappointment. "Well, it's your own fault there. My advice, get rid of that moron you have working for you now and get someone else like that Veronica. Just don't fucking tell Lucy this time. You work late enough as it is. I doubt she's smart enough to put two and two together anyway."
Admittedly, there'd been a brief moment where Bickslow had been just a little curious to know what kind of terms the Bickslow of that world had been on with his father, but right then, he was glad he'd decided he didn't care because it meant he wasn't at all disappointed to know that his father in that world was just as much of an asshole as the father he knew all too well.
And while Bickslow hadn't wanted to have anything to do with him, he was realising that he didn't want anything to do with the father in front of him either. He didn't at all care what it had been like with his other self. He didn't care about preserving what was supposedly already there and pretending anymore. All Bickslow cared about was getting the fuck away from Oscar, because he wasn't a person Bickslow wanted to have around his family.
Although after hearing what he just had, Bickslow wasn't all that surprised that his other self had ended up being such a dick. He'd clearly had a great role model in his life to constantly look up to.
"This is… This is just so fucked up," Bickslow muttered, shaking his head slightly. He reached into his pocket to grab his wallet and pull a few notes out, tucking them under the coaster on the table.
"What is?"
"All of it. And you know what? I'm fucking done with all this shit, and with you as well."
"Bicks, come on. What the fuck are you—"
"No, I mean it. I'm out." He slid himself out of the booth after finishing the rest of his drink. "I've got my own shit to deal with and I sure as hell don't want you there to make it worse. So don't fucking call me or try to talk to me, and stay the fuck away from my family from now on, alright?"
Bickslow didn't bother sticking around to hear just what else Oscar had to say to him. He knew it was something that sounded vaguely like an order to sit back down, but still, Bickslow didn't care. His father was the last person he'd wanted back in his life, and just those few hours that Oscar had been there had reminded Bickslow why it was he felt that way. He was uncaring, and he was toxic, and he was just a complete asshole and Bickslow really was better off without him.