So this is a story composed of different pieces (chapters) of various lengths that make up one single story when read correctly. HOWEVER, the pieces will be posted out of sequential order. Basically, I'm Tarantino-ing it!

(35) Growth

Sleeping on an actual bed with actual blankets was a strange experience for both Sharkboy and Lavagirl. For all that Max had given them when he dreamed them into this new world, this new life —both the good and bad— was something they were left to navigate.

Sharkboy had vague memories of sleeping on a bunk when he was very young, but after the storm, it was usually sandbanks or kelp beds. Lavagirl had never slept in a bed before coming to this new world, as her powers would only destroy them. Instead always sleeping on the ground, in the sand next to Sharkboy, or in the lava pools of her volcano home. So, needless to say, learning to sleep in a bed together took a lot of trial and error.

Oh, they'd slept next to each other plenty of times, curled up on their beach as close as they could be without Sharkboy burning up. And, now that they could touch, there was nothing to stop him from wrapping his arms around Lavagirl and pressing as close as physically possible. In those early days, he was so bad about it that LG used to joke that he should change his name to 'Octopus-boy.'

But, in Sharkboy's opinion, that had been the only good thing about beds.

They were too soft, too squishy, and he couldn't sleep on his back because it would hurt his fin. And, fuck, he hated blankets. Lavagirl loved them, to the point of collecting an entire closet of different types. She loved the silky, cool ones, the warm, fuzzy ones, the light, breezy ones, and the heavy, thick ones. She'd change them out ever so often so she could experience each one in different ways.

Sharkboy, for his part, endured this silently —mainly because it made his love happy. But he hated them. He hated that they made him too warm when Lavagirl provided all the heat he needed; and that they tangled around his legs like loose fishing nets entangling sharks and dolphins. He hated how he couldn't sleep on his stomach either, because his fin would tent the covers and disturb her.

But now, lying here awake at night, Sharkboy thinks he might be wrong about blankets. Sometimes he used to lay awake and watch Lavagirl sleep, taking advantage of her relaxed state to touch her hand, her hair, her face, and her mouth as gently as he could. Despite physical contact having become their new normal, he still liked to reassure himself that she was there.

Now there was another reason; he liked to lay there and just marvel at her stomach, watching it swell with their child little by little each day. The fact that they could even have a child was wondrous as being able to watch it grow was mind-blowing! Sharkboy couldn't bear to miss a moment of it!

So the night his keen eyes picked up the slightest moment in the blanket draped over Lavagirl's stomach, he nearly cried. And, when he put his hand over the spot gently as he could so as not to wake his beloved wife and felt a small, yet unmistakable kick against his palm, the tears came freely and unrestrained.

He was definitely wrong about blankets.

I notice that, despite there being plenty of WCBH fics, about 99% of them are self-insert stories written for/by people who really want to f*** Pedro Pascal, which is VALID, but I wanted to write a (semi) serious fic in the 'verse. Chapters will be coming every other week.