I've waited ages to post this chapter ^_^
To Riordanlover16- I won't lie, the 'everyone ships them but themselves' is one of my favourite things. You can thank Percabeth for it XD
To LooneyPeach- (Chapter 11) Do you know how hard it is for me to write fluffy chapters? I'm so used to chucking monsters and problems in, it's very hard to restrain myself! (Chapter 12) See previous! :P
Jessica put her hand on Louisa's knee, stilling the bouncing. Three seconds after she removed her hand, the bouncing started again. Jessica suppressed a sigh.
They were sitting in the hall. Wood panelled walls, exposed beams, faded maroon carpet. It was old-fashioned in here, smelled old-fashioned too. They were sitting on worn fabric chairs, the stuffing squished down to almost nothing. Leo was fidgeting in his, playing with things from his belt. Louisa was bouncing her knee, hands squished together.
Jessica was used to ADHD. She wondered if Bradley would get it too. Genetics or demigods or whatever. How did that work? Gods didn't have DNA; they were just magic. Harvey had explained it to her a hundred times, but she still argued with it— demigods and their children, legacies, still inherited things from their godly parents. There had to be some form of DNA or some form of hereditary line. Harvey had countered that she was trying to explain immortal beings with science and shrugged like that ended the argument.
Leo finished with his tinkering and a tiny bronze man in a top hat began dancing across his palm, twirling a bronze cane. Tinny music came from the creation, though it warbled and sank in and out of tune. After a minute, the dancer collapsed like a rag doll and didn't move again.
"Hm," Leo said, already pulling it apart. Louisa was bouncing her other knee now, watching distantly.
A door opened across the hall.
"Louisa Smith-Jackson?"
Jessica had to elbow Louisa from her thoughts. Louisa shot to her feet.
"Yeah. Yeah, that's me." She glanced back at the pram. It was parked next to Jessica, brakes on. Bradley had been asleep since they got here, soothed by the warmth of the building. It was turning autumnal outside, a brisk wind having played on their skin on the walk over.
"I've got him," Jessica assured. "You go."
Louisa nodded shakily, wringing her hands. The woman smiled at her. She was in her fifties, neat and prim in a knee-length grey skirt and a fussy blue blouse. Her greying brown hair was pulled back in a bun adorned with a velvet blue scrunchie. Jessica knew Louisa was sizing her up before following her in, making sure she was simply a mortal woman doing her job and not a heinous monster in disguise.
"Leo?" Louisa looked the other way. Leo blinked, realising he was under her gaze, and shoved the remains of the dancing man into his toolbelt. She hesitated. Jessica spoke for her.
"Go with her, Leo."
"Me?"
"You are Leo, are you not?"
"Last I checked. Lou, are you—?" She didn't even let him finish, face pinched with pain.
"Please."
"OK." He got up and tailed her dutifully into the office. It carried the theme of the hallway, though brighter thanks to a large window. Outside was a garden bristling with foliage and the remains of summer's flowers. Shelves lined the left wall, stuffed with books and photo frames. The desk took up most of the room, a hunk of dark wood as neatly organised as the woman behind it.
The woman introduced herself as Margaret. Leo thought she looked like a Margaret. He did not ask if he could call her Maggie, noticing a shiny embossed name plate in front of him as he sat down.
Louisa sat on the edge of her seat, hands clasped between her knees. She did not look up as Margaret spoke about why they were here today.
Margaret raised an eyebrow at Leo. "Is everything alright?" she asked.
Leo didn't know how to answer that one. No, was the truthful response, but that wasn't his place.
He leaned over to Louisa, dropping his voice to a whisper. Margaret sat back and turned away slightly in her chair, giving them a hint of privacy.
"Lou?" He touched her arm, fingers barely grazing her wrist. She jumped anyway. He saw her go for her watch, freezing when she saw it was him. "Talk to me. What are you thinking?"
She blinked. Swallowed dryly. She looked ready to spring; Leo braced himself for it and was right to do so. She was up and out the door, casting it open and sprinting out.
"What—?" Margaret, baffled, spun back round. Leo motioned to her vaguely and hurried after Louisa. Jessica was on her feet in the hallway, but she did not deviate from Bradley's side. She said nothing when Leo streamed past.
Louisa hadn't got far. The registry office was set back from the main road, enveloped in its own garden. Trees and shrubbery cocooned the place, giving it a sense of separation from the real world. People got married here, Leo had seen the adverts in the hall. It was a picturesque place to get married. Pictures of happy couples under the nature in all seasons.
She had made it about twenty feet from the door and then collapsed to her knees under a beech tree, fingers curling in the grass beneath. Even from a distance, Leo could see she wasn't breathing properly.
He knelt next to her, the grass and dirt cold beneath him.
"Lou?"
Her eyes were wide in a pale face, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her breath was coming in sharp, jagged gasps, neither in nor out properly. She was shaking all over.
Leo called for her again, leaning down a fraction. She did not hear him, did not see him. She was elsewhere, elsewhen. Perspiration had broken out on her forehead. Tears fell to the earth.
Leo didn't think on it. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close and firm. Her head fell under his and he pressed his cheek to her hair. "I'm here, Lou," he said, "I'm not going anywhere. You're safe."
She coughed. Leo knew what was coming and whipped a bag from his toolbelt. He rubbed her back as she vomited. Unpleasant, but something had jolted inside her and up came her breakfast. The realisation of being sick seemed to work, her eyes clearing a little.
"Leo?"
"Hey. Let me take that, here." He carefully sealed the bag and put it to one side. He produced a bottle of water and she drained half in one go. Rinsed her mouth out and spat onto the ground. The rest was tipped over her head.
Leo held her hand, getting splashed a little. Held her hand in both of his, massaging his thumbs into her palm. Being sick, the water, her breathing was starting to settle now, coming more evenly.
The bottle crumpled in her hand just as he was starting to think they were on safer ground. Thunder ripped the clear sky and she launched the bottle.
"FUCK!"
The sunshine vanished. Leo looked up to see storm clouds bruise the sky in purples and blues. Thunder rolled again. Her hand disappeared from Leo's and he turned back to her at it. Her hands balled in her hair, knees drawn to her chest. She inhaled deeply, rocking.
Storms were good. Storms meant she was letting it out.
The wind swept around them, whistling, and the first icy drops of rain hit his face. Tearing from her throat, from her chest, she yelled. Yelled without words, a yell, a scream, an outburst of pain, a maelstrom of opening the bottle she had tapered shut these past months.
She yelled until her lungs felt fit to burst, dwindling into a sob. She crumpled and Leo was there.
They clung to each other. Her curled into him, anchoring herself with him, crying into his chest. Him wrapped around her, wanting to shield her, wanting to hold her.
She shook her head, forehead pressed over his heartbeat. "I ain't signin' his name. I won't. I won't do it!"
"Don't then," Leo said. It was not the real Luke, just borrowing his image. Whatever dark creature had done this to her, maybe it didn't have a name. Regardless, Luke Castellan it called itself and Luke Castellan it had seared in her brain. "Don't," Leo said again. "You don't have to."
Thunder made him jump. She sat up, glaring at something past him. Her face was tear-streaked, eyes red. Leo watched her as the rain soaked her hair to her skin. What was that he had seen? Not even a second, but he had seen something. A flicker. A flicker of green light passed through the sea green, so quick, he had almost missed it, almost felt as though he had imagined it.
Her breath hitched. She dragged the heel of her hand under her eyes.
"I'm not doin' it," she growled. She jerked a head at the office. "They'll want me to put somethin', but I'm not doin' it. I'm not. I won't. I… I can't." Her voice broke and her features twisted as tears pooled anew.
Leo held his hands out. The rain was coming down now, relentless and bitter. Even he was feeling cold, but he pushed that to the back of his mind. She took his hands and he smoothed his thumb over her knuckles. "What do I do?" she whispered, her words almost lost to the wind. Leo had to lean closer to hear her properly. "I… I can't put… I have to put somethin', but I can't…" She hiccupped, squeezed her eyes shut. "What do I do, Leo?"
She was as soaked through as he was. She was still trembling, Leo could feel it in her hands. The storms were out, but her usual waterproofing was failing her. He rubbed at her hands, willing his own to warm up.
A thought pinged across his mind. Did he dare say it?
He felt Louisa tense, her fingers gripping his.
"Can you sign it?"
Had she read his mind?
Leo stared at her. The thought had occurred to him, though where it had come from, he couldn't say. Well, maybe he could say. Wishful thinking. Stupid idea. ADHD brain chucking nonsense at him again. He had wanted to say it, to suggest it, but would that entail crossing the line? The urge to speak had flared in his chest like the storms above, dammed on his tongue by that ounce of sensibility he seemed to carry.
So why had she said it? Why had she spoken his mind for him?
She tugged on his hands. "Leo, can you sign it?"
"Me?" She snorted, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips.
"You are Leo, are you not?"
"You want me to sign it?" She nodded, though suddenly couldn't look him in the eye. Her hands started to withdraw. Leo held on tighter. "I'll sign it," he blurted. "I'll sign it a hundred times, a thousand times, whatever you want." She stared at him, gaping slightly. Leo beamed at her. "I'll sign it 'til my hand falls off, just say the word."
"What?"
"I'll sign it," he repeated. She had asked him, but now she was thrown for six. Had she not expected him to agree? She was studying him again, like she had yesterday on the shopping trip. Like he had dropped in from another planet.
"Why?"
"Because you asked me to. Because I want to."
"Why?"
He shook his head. What could he say to that?
He still held her hands, drawing them up to kiss her fingers, once then twice. Scarlet flooded her face and he could see her floundering.
"If you want me to sign it, I will sign it."
"But… why?"
"Because it's you, Lou." The words were coming out unbidden now. The dam had crumbled and the river roared through. "It's you, it's always been you. I'll sign it, I want to sign it, I do. I really really do. For you, for Bradley, I'll do it. I swear I'll do it."
"But… but what about…?" She faltered, gulped. She couldn't get the name out. Leo shook his head. Her brow creased. "But what he did, what happened… I'm not… I'm not… I'm not OK." The word came out on a sob.
"That's what I'm here for, Lou," he promised. "I am here for you, whatever happens." He could see she was going to ask him why again, her confusion paramount. She had asked him that a lot recently.
He pulled on their conversation yesterday, under that umbrella at the café with the heavenly pancakes. "I'm supposed to be at your side," he said, "I know I am. And I will stay at your side unless you say otherwise." Her mouth twitched. Her attention was on their entwined hands.
"You gonna fix me too?" Leo shook his head again.
"You don't need fixing. You are perfect as you are." Her expression contorted, split between smiling and crying. Somehow she managed to do both, though Leo only saw it for a moment. She launched herself forward, her arms around his neck. Leo grinned and looped her in an embrace of his own.
They went back in together. Jessica said nothing at them being joined by the hand, though her eyes sparkled knowingly. Margaret was waiting nervously in the doorway of her office, smiling politely as they came back. She eyed them dripping onto her carpet, mouth pursed at the puddle.
"Is everything alright?" she asked.
"It is now," Louisa nodded. Jessica pulled a small towel, a muslin, from the baby bag and they dried their faces and their hands.
"How the weather changes," she remarked with a sly smirk. The rain was easing away now, the thunder more distance. Louisa met her gaze levelly.
"Good weather for ducks," she said.
"And fish," Jessica nodded. Louisa stuck her tongue out. Leo half-heard the exchange— he was imagining taking Bradley to feed the ducks one day.
Her hand was still shaky as she filled in Bradley's name and signed, but there it was. She was Bradley's mother.
Leo signed next to it. It was only as he was writing his surname did he see Bradley's.
Bradley Perseus Valdez.
His heart soared and he looked up to see her watching him, wringing her hands once more.
"Is that OK?" she asked quietly. He looked back at the certificate and then at her.
"You don't match."
"What?"
"Valdez, Valdez, Smith-Jackson. You don't match." Colour rose in her face and she looked away. She was trying not to smile, he could see.
Margaret was happy with their signatures. She bustled off to do whatever registrars did. She did explain it, but Leo wasn't listening. He was on cloud nine. He was on clouds nine, ten, eleven, infinite. All the clouds. He walked out the office practically floating, Louisa's hand in his.
Jessica grinned at him, at him. She had picked Bradley from his pram while they had been in the office and she passed him to Leo now. The tot was awake, his blue eyes round and staring. He still couldn't see very much, Leo knew, but he grinned down at the baby all the same.
"Congratulations," Jessica said. "It's a boy."