A/N: This fucking shite grew more dramatic than I had intended. I just wanted to write lighthearted fluff / rom-com, but my fingers refused to poke fun about unexpected pregnancies. Facking shite, you traitorous, mutinous bastards! I hope you ten piggies enjoy the slaughterhouse!
(This is what happens when I don't have a happy song playing in the background whilst typing)
As usual, more notes in the closing segment. Enjoy~
Aria
-0-0-0-
They had separate rooms.
She supposed that only made sense, and it was the only reason they were allowed to live in the same house in the first place, but as she had begun to suspect for a while now, her bed felt far too big for one person.
Gently, she laid her sleeping daughter on her crib, tucking her in and kissed her forehead goodnight, before quietly making her way down the short walk to his room. She had two hours before the next feeding, and she had already decided what she was going to do.
The dance ended tonight.
Butterflies rustled inside her with each step and a numbing feeling of trepidation spread across her palms. She hesitated to reach out for the doorknob and wondered, not for the first time, if this was the right thing to do.
Briefly, she wondered how it came to this. When once he haunted her nightmares, now she saw the real him. She supposed, given their cohabitation, it truly was only a matter of time before affection would develop.
But this?
This was unprecedented.
She closed her emerald eyes, inhaling deeply as she recalled the warmth of his touch, and the tender way he held her daughter.
He had every right to do away with them, she knew, but he stayed. He remained a constant source of stability in this crazy world she found herself in. She honestly felt guilt at the judgment that was passed onto him for her decision and admiration that he would not flinch.
It was time she did the same. Steeling herself, she placed her hand on the knob, quietly twisting it and entering his room.
As she had suspected, Scott was sat in front of the large computer typing away the mission report. She took him in as she silently approached; it still astounded her how little he had aged during his death. When once she looked up to him as a teenager, now she saw him as simply only a few years ahead of her.
His alertness did not stagnate, however, as he caught her reflection on his computer screen. He swiveled his chair around and greeted her with a concerned smile.
"Is everything alright, Laura?" He asked. "Is she-"
"Asleep, yes." She nodded, tucking a lock of raven hair behind her ear subconsciously. The butterflies continued to flutter, and she was quickly feeling awkward just standing before him.
Noticing her discomfort, Scott immediately stood up. "Here." He offered his seat with a hand before making his way to his bed. Laura tracked him as he sat down, and he tilted his head at her questioningly when she didn't budge. "Laura?"
Her heart pounded against its cage.
"I… never told you how much I appreciate everything you have done, have I?" She began. It was his turn to track her as she slowly made her way towards him.
"You never needed to." He replied.
She could see it in the way his body tensed—the wheels in his head were spinning and she could tell he was about to bolt. Again.
She would have none of that.
Firmly, she planted her hands on his shoulders and straddled his legs, staring past his ruby-quartz gaze and capturing his eyes.
"I have been contemplating much, lately..." Laura told him, and when she was sure he would not run, slid a hand down his warm chest.
She was elated to know his heart was pounding as much as hers.
With a soft smile, she continued, "And after what happened today—after what happened in that skirmish—I am certain I do not want to contemplate longer."
Scott swallowed the lump in his throat.
"Laura… I'm not him." He whispered to her. He was very much aware of everything this young woman was doing to him.
Laura nodded.
"I know. But what we had—he was lonely, and frustrated, and disheartened, and I didn't want him to feel like his world was ending. To leave knowing that only isolation and death waited for him. I wanted to save him, if only for a moment, just as he had done for me."
When she could see that he was still lost, she simplified, "I did not love him."
Scott broke their stare, gazing to the side in what she perceived was shame and guilt.
He was ashamed of how his time-displaced younger-self had acted, and he was guilty that his recalcitrance forced her to make the first step. A shallow, selfish part of him hoped that by not acknowledging this thing that started to develop between them, she would be saved from the consequences that came with it.
Hell, he was still trying to sort out his life!
Naturally, she was having none of that, too.
Laura had gone through enough complicated messes in her life that now that she could feel this connection, she refused to waffle around it. She had learned, over the past several years, life was inherently complicated, but those complications need not put life on hold.
Sometimes, beautiful things could come about.
Like her lovely daughter.
And she sincerely wished Scott would forgive himself enough to see that, too.
The hand on his chest trailed upwards, gently cupping his cheek and returning his gaze to hers.
"But you…" She began, slowly, hesitantly, and incredibly self-conscious. She was uncertain if the words she chose were correct—were enough to connect, but, "I am sure these feelings I feel… I feel that you…" It was her turn to swallow her nerves, "I feel that I love…"
She caught his eyes again, and she truly felt the certainty she proclaimed.
"…you, Scott."
Her heart twisted when he looked painfully torn. "This is my fault."
"Yes it is." She confirmed, gazing at him reassuringly so as to sweep his inner turmoil away. "If you were not you, I would not feel this way."
When he continued to look distressed, the hand on his cheek trailed to his neck and gave his carotid a gentle massage.
That brought him out of his panicking thoughts.
"No more mixed signals or half-truths, Scott." Laura firmly declared. "I just want to know. Do you care for me?"
"Yes." Against his better judgment, he added honestly, "Deeply." And she could tell, too. His body spoke more than his words could ever convey. "But not in the same way I do for Jean or Emma."
"I would hope not." Laura pointed out, even as many tiny wings fluttered inside her joyfully. Still, she needed to remain firm. "I am not them. Now ask yourself, Scott, am I any less than them?"
Slowly, hesitantly, Scott shook his head.
Laura smiled. "Then that is good enough for me. I have no interest in things that are simply given."
She had worked for everything in her life and she was comfortable letting life stay that way.
Abruptly, the young woman sagged in his arms, and Scott realized how tense she must have been this entire time—how much courage she must have mustered to confront him. Feeling the need to comfort her, his right hand trailed up her spine before he began rubbing circles against her nape.
Laura sighed in relief and dug herself deeper into him.
"Are you alright?" Scott asked of the suddenly quiet woman.
"Exhausted." Laura admitted.
But she was very much content for the moment.
"Maybe you should sleep?"
"Maybe you should sleep with me?" She murmured against his neck.
He pulled back slightly and glanced at her emerald eyes, shimmering with hope, and felt his will crumble.
"Only for tonight." Scott decided, and let out an involuntary oof when she pushed him against the bed and claimed her spot above him.
Scott was sure he was going to catch hell come the morning, but as Laura's arms snaked around his chest, and as his found themselves around her waist, he decided they would take this one step at a time.
"Scott?" Laura began, eyes closing as she listened to the beautiful lullaby of his heart.
"Yeah?"
Her smile widened at the rumbling of his chest.
"I have a bottle ready in the fridge. Our daughter is expected to wake in twenty-one point five minutes. Can you handle it?"
Scott smiled at her cheeky request and began to gently comb a hand through her long, luxurious hair.
The young mother purred and nuzzled deeper into him.
"Of course."
Laura was lightly snoring not a minute later.
Slowly, Scott pulled his blanket around them and planted a loving kiss against her crown.
-0-0-0-
Omake: Booze and Breaking the News
Being an X-Man wasn't just about teaching mutants to control their powers, fighting for equality, and occasionally saving a world that hates and fears them every odd-Tuesday. It was also about accepting a certain philosophy:
Death is only another state of living.
It was why nobody was surprised when Scott Summers returned from the grave. In fact, there was only a modest few that celebrated his return at his new apartment.
An hour into the gathering found Jean and Emma at the balcony, chatting amiably, while at the living area, Alex was struggling to beat the Cuckoos in a game of chess.
The doorbell rung and Scott was greeted to the sight of Wolverine with two barrels of booze.
"Slim," Logan started gruffly and immediately cut to the point, "We need to talk. Alone."
There was an urgency to his tone that was very palpable. "Did something happen?"
"Yeah." Logan stated gruffly and stared straight into Scott's eyes behind his ruby-quartz frames. "How much do you remember of what your younger self did?"
Scott frowned. "Nothing. What did younger me do?"
Logan put down one of the barrels and fished a white plastic device from his pocket before handing it to Scott.
Inspecting it, Scott found a pair of familiar lines.
His heart dropped.
The gears in his head whirred crazily.
Scott's gaze whipped back up to the grimacing Logan, who ground out the confirmation.
"It's Laura's."
There was a loud crash that sounded like it came from the balcony and Scott briefly wondered if it was too late to return to his peaceful grave.
-0-0-0-
"I really don't know what to do." Logan said as he downed his twentieth mug. "All my children just suddenly appeared. All grown. I never saw the women I bedded actually pregnant." He confessed before glaring at Scott. "Slim, throw me a bone, here."
Scott wordlessly passed him another mug filled with liquid sorrow as while his other hand continued to nurse his growing headache with a cold bottle.
"I don't plan on abandoning her." Scott assured him.
"You best not." Logan agreed, the unspoken threat clear as crystal. "But I don't want you anywhere near her, either."
"I'm sure you don't." Scott nodded his head, and immediately regretted it as his headache grew worse. He sent an urgent thought to Jean and Emma to either stop bickering or stop listening altogether. "But have you spoken to Laura about what she wants to do?"
Logan shot him a sidelong glare.
That said it all, really.
"You… haven't?" Scott gaped. In his mindscape, Emma and Jean did, too.
"I freaked out." Logan scowled at him fiercely, but there was no hiding the misery in his tone. "What was I supposed to do?"
"Did you tell her anything?" Scott urgently pressed.
To his credit, Logan actually averted his gaze guiltily. "I… may have stormed out when I found out."
Scott sighed. "I'll talk to her, Logan." He told the hotheaded mutant. "But only after you have. You owe it to Laura."
Idly, Scott wondered if he was this bad when Lynn had Nathan.
"I know." Logan growled., downing his mug "Stop making so much goddamn sense, Slim."
Wordlessly, Scott passed him his twenty-second.
A/N: So yeah, that happened. Here's the bunny that started it all:
Premise: When the real Scott Summers returns from the grave, he is shocked to find out his time-displaced younger-self had, in a moment of passion, impregnated Laura Kinney before he was shipped back. Even more shocking, Laura wants to keep the baby. Not one to run from his presumed responsibility, Scott chooses to take care of both Laura and her baby, much to everyone's chagrin. Family fluff ensues as one very confused-and-definitely-winging-this Scott takes care of one very determined-to-not-fuck-this-up Laura, while a traumatized Logan, a Jean-in-denial and a resigned Emma watch from the sidelines.
But back to this piece. I feel torn up because I did a lot of telling and not showing Laura's development but, at the same time, this really wasn't supposed to be a long piece. On the other hand, ugh, writing fanfiction doesn't put food on my table so this is just me ranting my frustration at not doing Laura enough justice.
Finally, kids, don't try the carotid massage at home! Like, seriously, don't. Laura is an expert in the human body so let her do her thing.
Toodle-do~
