Waru would think that she was upset at him, and while he did have a tendency to upset her from time to time, that wasn’t the current issue. As strange as it was to say, Emmy found that she did not want to hurt his feelings by implying something like that. She didn’t need those puppy eyes he gave when he felt spurned.
However, they did need to talk. There was no getting around that, given what Emmy had discovered. She’d given herself a few days to process her own thoughts on the matter, but the way Waru was going to react to this was still a wildcard.
So, she wasn’t going to procrastinate on the conversation. She hated waiting around.
She did, however, take an extra moment to think about her phrasing for Waru’s sake.
I have something to tell you. Come over?
There. That was better.
***
The familiar ping of a select tone became a knife twist that flitted away into gentle butterflies within his stomach. The emotional rollercoaster spanned seconds, the ride ended smoothly. Nobody died from crazy g-forces by the end of it. The world continued to not end and things were good…
Relatively speaking.
Waru was freshly elated for how commanding of his attention just a few, short words could be.
Especially when coming from Emmy…
Who he didn’t hesitate to respond to, albeit with hieroglyphics instead of proper sentences. He thought he got the message across well enough though. Believed that Emmy both knew him and was smart enough to distill the essence of what he meant into something that made contextual sense.
He was coming over just as fast as physics would allow. With bells on. If not also whistles. There was always a chance for whistles…
He wondered, sometimes, quietly to himself in the wee hours of night become morning become some other time— About whether or not he should’ve felt something like *shame* for how on a leash most of his lovers had him. The way he over-under-analyzed everything in the most haphazard, unproductive way; running his list of options for whether or not he should bring something? Wear something? Do something extra?
If he’d forgotten an important date?
If he needed to invent a new, important date worth remembering? A whole calendar of them, maybe. It was Emmy though; clear, concise, to the point. Sometimes brutally so. If she wanted something extra? She would’ve said.
Like maybe a partner who knew shame with some sort of intimacy.
As it was? She hadn’t said, and who she’d asked for was him. Someone who had never met shame when faced with loving others. Hell, he’d not even gotten a cursory introduction of the most basic kind with the feeling. The kind that came with a cold, floppy handshake and withering smile.
It meant that he was happy to be at her place, that whatever came next? He would be happy to be at her place! Beckoned, called, arrived. Which led to him texting her the second he was out front her door, hoping only that he hadn’t made her wait too long.
***
Oh, he’d panicked anyway, hadn’t he? She could tell by the types of emojis he was sending, and also the fact that he was coming over without any hesitation. At least he wasn’t going to try to teleport into her living room. She’d broken him of even thinking about that habit quite a while ago.
She’d never had to prepare for this kind of conversation before, but she supposed it wasn’t so different from preparing for anything else. She set out drinks on the coffee table. Wine was not allowed at the moment, of course, and so was too much coffee, and herbal tea didn’t feel quite right. She poured raspberry flavored sparkling water into stemless wine glasses, instead.
She made sure she was dressed, too. She’d been spending more and more of her mornings in her pajamas, but now she threw on a crisp shirt and pencil skirt. This felt, in some ways, like business.
At least, she didn’t know what else to treat it like.
She opened the door when Waru texted, unfamiliar nerves settling in the bottom of her stomach. “Hello,” she said, and smiled crisply, but did not go in for the kiss. “Come in,” she said instead, and took him by the hand, leading him over to the couch and perching there, back perfectly straight. She grabbed her drink in her free hand and tapped it with coral-painted nails while she steeled herself.
***
“Hey–” A nerve-touched exhale of a greeting, his smile a little more watery as the worries he’d told himself he didn’t have made themselves known. Reared up hydralike and myriad in brilliant colors of potential wrongs he’d committed. It was the little things, nothing quite off enough but still *off* enough to scrunch his features briefly as he followed to sit where she bade him. The way her posture suggested business over pleasure, the way her dress was oh so very ‘her’ but missing the flair he’d always clocked as being pure ‘Emmy’. It was always the tiniest things; sushi shaped earrings, for-this-holiday-only makeup. A fun bracelet, a brilliant scarf, a matching handbag and the kind of heels that dragged his mind to the wildest places – off beach-side raveens – into cozy coat closets. The way she was dressed not up, nor down, but smack in the middle of the road.
How that gave him the sense she was handling him professionally and all the ways that it ached, the feeling of knowing he needed to be handled at all. His eyes roving the click-click-click of her brightly painted nails over polished glass, leaving him wishing he hadn’t let her trade holding his hand for holding a drink, or that he’d demanded a kiss. Or– Hell– done anything more than let himself be led lamblike and off-kilter to be potentially slaughtered in a way that wouldn’t even stain her too-white couch.
A damn shame, one less thing for him and Hestia to competitively-clean over. Feelings didn't bleed the same way veins did – and all the gory imagery his head could conjure was always just his own – a private cinema of sadness.
“Lissn, if there's something I did?” As though he could think his way ahead of the pass, head his mistakes off before they hit the fork in the road, readying an apology for something he’d done – hadn’t done – was about to do? Except for how strategy had never been his forte and any thought he could conjure up was far less forethought than it was the empty, hapless kind. Like those brief bits of a moment before a wreck, when everything seemed to slow down just enough that thinking and acting and reacting felt lightning quick.
Except that I’m here to listen – right? Not to – ********’ what? Talk her down off of s**t she hasn’t told me…all ominous feelings aside…
He wanted to blame the calamity, or life, or – god? Could he blame space itself? Could he blame the hollow full of star fragments in his chest? Something, there had to be something he could pin the nebulous, yikes-like itch beneath his skin on – the antsyness that likely had nothing to do with Emmy at all and was just him, gods, what, projecting s**t on her? He went with that, stuck with that, stemming the flood of words that wanted to come. Biting them off – and catching the tip of his tongue between teeth before settling on mimicry.
She’d gone to all the trouble of setting drinks out after all, right? All hospitality and color-coordinated control. He’d at least taste one of the summery looking…
And oh, they weren’t spirits…
Sparkling water? A health kick?
“Or…but no…you first, yeah? M’sure it’s important…though…it never needs t’be important t’call me over, Ems.” Because the world *didn’t end* – he was still here – they both were– things were still good. He told himself over easy, ad nauseum, while letting the bubbles tickle his upper lip and the first summery sip shut himself up long enough to let her *speak*.
***
He was worried that he was in trouble. It was almost sweet, the puppy dog eyes, the hint of a beg almost in his tone. As if Emmy would have called him all the way over here just to berate him.
If he upset her, she had no problem letting him know about that over text. He always tried to fix his mistakes, too. That was part of why she kept him around.
Although they were getting to the point where there might be another reason. Emmy took a breath, and took a sip of sparkling water, remaining in complete control of her features. She’d never been one to hesitate, and she wasn’t about to start now.
“You know how I haven’t been feeling well recently?” she asked. It had been a rough few weeks. She’d missed team meetings, even a fight with an oversized snake over the fate of Earth. Waru had been kind to her, but she could tell he didn’t suspect anything past a flu.
“It turns out I’m pregnant.”
There it was. It was the wildcard statement. She had no idea how he’d react.
She looked over at him, blinking.
***
He nodded along in understanding, stared, and then he choked on the next swallow of sweet, fizzy water. Felt the air falter in his lungs as he struggled to comprehend as well as breathe. The two acts as incomparable as chewing gum and thinking at the same time. The way it was ******** embarrassing enough that he had to look away while setting the drink down. Simultaneously clearing his throat and mentally checking that the hamster running the singular wheel labeled ‘thoughts’ in his head hadn’t just up and died.
That he’d heard her correctly—
She’d been missing any number of important things, but not anything they couldn’t necessarily handle without her. It was all more brute work than brain work and Emmy was more than just cherry red lips and hair-splitting battle axes.
She was smart. She had a job — a real one — a life — a civilian one? At least he’d assumed she did. There was the streaming, yeah, but he knew her to be goal oriented and…
And he hadn’t wanted to see her face at the potential end of it all, sitting through them freeing Aelius, picking up yet more pieces of more bloody messes that they hadn’t, (for ******** once!) made themselves. He knew goddamned intrinsically that she never liked the way he death flagged his every next encounter with some godly force, lampshading their potential demise with a smile and words Ilmari — sweet, sweet Baz’s beautiful crashout — knew were best left unspoken into the winds of any universe.
He didn’t fault her for not being there, didn’t want her to witness him peacock his gnashing at the life’s bit — caution to the wind — continued lack of self-preservation. Specifically in the face of an event where he should’ve had *some* — at least some!!
And then the next domino fell and his cool flew out the sixth story window and….
He’d always thought her axe looked good at his throat. Treys poisonous smoke in his lungs. Eions claws at his hips. Adams knife in his ribs.
Emmy, Emmy, Emmy —-
Not a lick of that had a damn thing to do with what she’d revealed to him. Did it? Not here, not now. So he collected his own scattered self and congratulated her.
Tried to —
“Are you —“ Did she want this? How far along was she? Who was the — and trying to make sure she had everything she needed from him, no matter what she needed, was dragging divots across Waru’s mental bandwidth. The deep divide between having questions and wanting to be supportive in an excited way. “I’m — I’m coping — I am! M’just playing catch up cause It’s just such a surprise, Em’s! But I’m with you. Because this is good news, yeah? More than that! And — uh — congrats?”
Lame lame lame!!
“No, wait! I mean it in a good way! The congratulations, because of course you must want this. You uh, you wouldn’t be telling me if you didn’t, right?” Catching himself from flying off on a new emotional tangent while he tried to read her stone cold, controlled features for context clues. Because what if she wasn’t telling him the big reveal because she wanted cheery comfort?
What if there was something else—
Someone else — but only the kind of else that would give her issues — none of his business — not until right now, and probably to even now, but?!
“Okay, yeah, I’m freaking out now — I need more info, but only if that’s okay with you!? Just, uh, I need to know if you’re good, is this good? Please. Some kinda feedback, Em’s. M’begging here.” Return of the puppy eyes with extra plea.
***
Should she have given more context, immediately? He was surprised, and she supposed she shouldn’t leave him suffering like that any longer than he had to. She couldn’t blame him for the expressions he was making, though.
She’d been in much the same state a week and a half ago, standing in her bathroom late at night and staring at the two lines on the drugstore test. Luckily, nobody had been there to see her startle, or to start pacing around the kitchen island for a good hour afterwards, trying to make sense of what she’d seen.
“I’m fine,” she told him. She’d had the time to process it, now, and she could keep the air of elegance, the hint of a nod. There were rumors that motherhood softened people, changed them. While there would certainly be changes, Emilia was determined that losing her edge would not be one of them. “If I’d decided it was a problem, you never would have known. I’m very capable of taking care of myself. You understand this.”
Instead, they were here. The stuttered congratulations did bring out a hint of a smile. It was different than the compliments she usually received. She could get used to that, she thought.
“It was a surprise to me,” she admitted, “But after some thought, I’ve decided to embrace it. It will be different to have a child around, but I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. Anyway, plenty of people my age are parents. It might help me connect with a new demographic.”
That was especially important when your audience was your livelihood. She’d been going steady with her streaming and her videos, but frankly, she could use a change to boost her engagement.
A much smaller part of her thought about how it would make the apartment seem less empty, even if she’d have to work harder to keep her couches crisp and white.
“What about you?” she asked him. “It’s your child. I haven’t been with anyone else recently.” She was now thankful for the scheduling conflicts she’d had recently with Adam. It saved her that bit of confusion. “So you should take some time to decide if you want to be involved.”
***
‘What does fine even mean in this context?’ His mind was already off and wandering the halls of ten thousand wonders. The way he imagined any number of things ‘fine’ could actually mean when coming from Emilia. The way he imagined she could’ve been run through with a sword and said in that same calm, precise, unwavering tone that she was fine.
He wouldn't have ever known otherwise. That was the point, wasn’t it? That was the whole entire vast and unmissable point. All the ways she was beyond his radar, how her walls were well maintained, glassily polished, high that she had to make herself blunt-force-trauma clear to him or he would miss things. Hell, or worse? Misconstrue them entirely. Couldn’t have that, not in the face of all this. Not when she was being clear and he was understanding and nodding along—
The way he wobbled between feeling every feeling there was to feel; a human compass needle caught in a magnetic whirlpool. A jellyfish in a riptide. Which were really funny videos! What with the way their little, gelatinous bodies got whipped the hell around. Before bouncing back out…untangling…floating along again like nothing had happened.
The jellyfish were always fine and Emmy was fine and he was…
Listening. Withholding his questions. Swallowing his tongue. Scratching at the ******** walls in the most anxiously still and silent way he could. Deer in the headlights except there wasn’t the blessing of an oncoming car zipping his way to save him from twitching in some direction and opening his mouth to offer sounds. Just Emmy, soft on the eyes, hard at the edges, endlessly, pointedly patient, and embracing surprises!
Was it a good surprise? Were you happy for it? Do you ever panic? Do you even really want me, because I know you don’t need me, but that’s not the point is it?!
He wanted to bend her back over something until her spine looked less rigid! Until she looked relaxed and some approximation of genuinely happy again instead of a woman delivering potentially dire news! And this was the part where he was supposed to be opening up his mouth and saying words and —
“I love you.” Searching, searching, frantically the way his eyes darted over her features. The effortless line of perched she was. He’d said before and he’d say it now and he would say it to their child! Like a man compelled, because he had to, because he’d feel wretched in his soul I’d he didn’t. “D’you…you do know that, right? Not just suddenly, or just right now, or just because of this…”
“That I wouldn’t care if it— if he or she or…Uhm, no. ********, if the baby…our baby…wasn’t mine?” It mattered. It mattered. It mattered! Even if only to him, beyond what little competition he had in his own head with Adam and whoever else Emmy chose to entertain herself with. He wanted her to know these sorts of things as fact, if she didn’t already. “That I don’t care if we don’t work that way, or if the feeling isn’t mutual. If all my ‘muchness’ is one sided....”
“Just so long as you know, Emmy.”
“And with all that knowing…that you also understand…that there isn’t a universe I exist in where you would come t’me with something like this and..where I’d decide to be absent if you came to me with something like this…” The way she talked about challenges and demographics, his features scrunched slightly as he shook the mixed tangle of want and fear off. However she justified doing this — whatever parenting style she chose — whatever — did he really care so long as he was allowed in?
“There just. There isn’t.”
He’d always talked about kids, dismissed the notion, entertained it, pep-talked himself about things because he knew himself well enough to know the day might come ‘when’ it would be more than just imaginings and discussions!
“Y’really do need to take the head off any version of me you ever meet who turns out like that, yeah? Promise. Cause it probably be a skinwalker…or like….Headache in disguise?” And he did shudder at the idea. Shuddered and brushed it off because he didn’t have time to think of hypothetical horrors, reality was very much happening and he needed to be present for it!!
“That is to say I don’t need time. Not for something like this..the idea of taking time to think about it? Like I’m ordering takeout or…no.”
“I just need to know if you want me. Here or — there or— cause, it’s like you said, yeah? Whether or not this would be a problem was always your right t’decide. Capable as I know you are? So the same goes for having me around.” Her right and her choice and how all those things were paramount. How he appreciated her prudence with these sorts of things! The way that not knowing absolutely would’ve been better on his psyche if she’d chosen another way—
The way that knowing now and being potentially dismissed might break something in him. He wasn’t sure what, but it felt fragile when he mentally flicked it.
“Because I don’t want to be your ******** you’re telling me now and then…and then later decide me being absent would be better? Uhm…” A part of him wondered if he should’ve been on his knees for this? Assumed the position and taken her hands and begged. Save how their dynamic was steadier than his rabbiting pulse beneath his skin, she led every dance, he followed. Asked permission. Took orders. Offered roses and fell on swords and yielded even when he didn’t want to. Yielded when he needed to the most, to something in her eyes and something in her voice, an inexorable tug like a hand twisting the end of a leash.
He just didn’t know if he could yield in the face of this, if being bade in and then sent home would be the end of some part of him? The loss of a limb. Because now that he knew he wanted!!!
So so so so so much!
“That…that’s the sort of thing I think I’d need to take time to think about. That uh— that might actually hurt more than an axe to the neck? Just saying. Or more than not knowing at all…I’m always….I’m all the way in or I’m none of the way in…no inbetween. I can’t…if I get to meet this new person? I’d be kinda, uhm, wholly ******** commited to them.”
“Because it’s you…”
“Because I’m me…”
“And the second you said the baby was mine..ours..yeah…”
“So long as you're okay with that?”
Keep me keep me keep me —-
Let me be a better anything than my father was—
Let me prove how useful I am when it really counts!!
***
It was almost like he was trying to act like her. Stiff, serious, with folded hands and a steady gaze. There was a part of her that was proud, a part of her that had worked with him over the months and years to try to give certain situations the respect they deserved.
There was another, deeper part of that which was relieved when he dropped the I love you.
She let out a breath that she hadn’t been consciously holding. “I know,” she said. It had hardly slipped her notice. She found the intensity of his feelings endearing, even if, as he knew, she could not quite reciprocate in the same way. “I appreciate it.”
In many ways, it felt like her world had turned upside down over night, but he was here, looking at her with the same puppy eyes and sappy expression that he always had. She was always the intense one, and she kept staring at him in that manner, not faltering.
She was fine. She was in control. “I’m not rejecting you,” she told him, her voice steady. “I just want to make sure you understand, and can make your decisions without worrying about my feelings. I can handle this, no matter what.” Her jaw tightened, and her eyes seemed to flash with determination. “I know I’ve put collars on you, but that’s a game. I would never dream of limiting your freedom just because my birth control failed, and a child is much more responsibility than a lover you meet up with on the weekends.”
He understood that, didn’t he? Yet, he still seemed so earnest. Emmy was suddenly even more aware of her posture, of how her hands had curled to white-knuckled fists, of how she was staring at him like she was trying to close a deal.
Was it fair to him, for her to act like this?
Usually, that wasn’t the kind of question that would have crossed her mind. She was the picture of strength. She did what she wanted, all on her own.
Was that truly what she wanted here, though?
She thought of the evenings spent with Waru, smiling at his antics under the lights of their favorite restaurants. She thought of sipping wine with him on the couch. She thought of the way she let herself look over the softened features of his face when he fell asleep in her bed.
Did she really want this to be a business transaction? Did she want to take this to court and write up a visitation schedule, like they were divorced? That was what was going to happen here, if she wasn’t more open about her feelings like he was begging her to be.
She swallowed.
“Waru,” she said, a completely different tone to her voice. She reached over to rest her hand on his. “I’m scared. About more than just the baby, honestly. That’s just made everything else more obvious.” She paused, struggled to regain most of her composure. “And of course I can deal with all of this alone if I need to, but if you’re asking what I want, and you’re not afraid of the answer?”
She met his eyes. “I don’t want to do this alone. Not at all.”
***
“C’mere…please?” With the not-wine set aside on the pristine coffee table, her hand on his, he couldn’t help but ask for more; switch up his grip until his fingers were encircling her delicate wrist and he was tugging her towards him. Palms up, arms open, lips parted around the next breath of halted words. Because all he wanted to do was tell her how much he wanted to hold her, for as long as she’d allow, in whatever ways she’d let him; her back to his chest, her ear on his heart, the closeness he craved to offer and take like a balm.
Whatever would allow him to, just for a moment, show her he could be solid enough for the both of them…for all three of them?
No, for even more than that. Because he wanted to show her that he could be reliable! Because anchors weren’t just for sinking ships; the thing that pulled them down and down and trapped them at the bottom in endless scenes of wreckage for all of time. They had dual purposes, offered stability and strength all their own. Held steadfastly floating vessels full of life against endless roaring waves and yanking currents.
I can be that too—
“Please…” Plaintive and longing, soft as he watched her eyes fill with emotion, catching new notes in her voice; a dam threatening to spill. Held back only by sheer force of will, or so he assumed. Appreciating in the moment how she spelt it out so simply for him, while at the same time hating himself for ever putting the idea in her head that they were only weekend lovers meant for noon-midnight on a Sunday. Or worse? The idea that he’d made her think she was worth less of his time just because the L’word was low-tier on her vocabulary.
I can hold you down in a good way, Ems.
“You were never…” He swallowed the hurt for stretching himself too thin between them all, for making her think she had to be so accommodating. That the fun and games, the kinks and collars, were where he drew his final lines. He supposed he’d just been lucky enough to love the sorts of people independent enough to not need more — to not want more — the kind of people who didn’t ask — who weren’t like that — and so he hadn’t thought…
I should’ve asked before all this. His own lament for not begging anyone who would hear him out, who was willing, to crawl in-between his ribs and under his skin for the next sum of eternity.
“None of you,” watching, unblinking, serious as the grave, “are ever,” because he wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. Not for a long time now. At least — not so long as the bars were shaped like mutual affection, shared longing, loving need! “just anything.”
“Not to me.”
“Never to me.”
He wasn’t afraid! Not of her. Not of this new — a little — a lot — of extra responsibility, and a Hell of a lot of unknowns. But since when was that new anymore? The catastrophically unexpected? The beauty of a surprise coming out the other side of what could’ve been the end!! A death preceding a birth the way life intended!
“Cause I know that this isn’t a game…”
“I know…it’s so…it’s so much, right? Almost too much, maybe. But not if we tackle it together, yeh?”
“N’hell! You can keep being as strong as you want to be! M’not gonna tell ya not ******** the idea of me being some kinda necessary? Just so long as you know that you don’t have t’be anything alone…”
“You never had to be that, Em’s. D’you hear me? Do you trust me— with this? You can…you should…I give you permission t’need me just as much as I’ve always needed you. To share the weight n’lean in a little.”
I won’t fold under the pressure, not in the face of something as important as this.
He didn’t know how to promise her, didn’t dare to start. If he could manage this much for now? It’d maybe be enough to build on.
***
Waru tried to pull her tight, but Emmy just looked over at him, still sitting up as straight as ever, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side like she wasn’t sure what he was even trying to do. Did he want to cuddle her? When she was trying to have a serious conversation with him?
And he was talking so passionately about how much he’d always cared about her, as if she hadn’t known that already. As if that had ever been the problem.
“Waru,” she told him, that hint of a chide in her voice. “I have always been the one who sees this as an amusement. I have been aware of your feelings, but I have been nothing but clear about my own feelings on the matter.”
She paused. She took a sip of bubbly water, because she hated how it felt like everything that she thought she’d had under control was slipping through her fingers. At least feeling the fizz on the roof of her mouth gave her something else to think about for a moment.
Not as good as alcohol, but that was how it was going to have to be now, wasn’t it?
“But everything is changing. Maybe everything already was.”
She supposed that meant that she should try to be somewhat considerate of his feelings. She put the leaned into him, although honestly, she didn’t know how to relax in a situation like this. Her whole body was locked up. It did not make her feel better.
“I built my whole adult life around being the perfect Negaverse agent. And, if i’m being,” she swallowed, “Honest?”
It took her a few seconds to manage the words. “I’ve never been good at it.”
***
He knew that, he swore he knew, and of course she’d told him how many times now? About her feelings. Clear as glass, and bells, and – mirrors? No. Windows. But still, knowing all of that didn’t leave him any less confused ot any less grasping for straws and wondering how she wanted him to do this…
What she wanted him to do with this?! What she needed from him for? She’d always known then he felt and always known herself and…Was that the issue? That she didn’t want to need and was independent and so maybe…
Maybe I shouldn’t be, like, throwing myself at her, yeah? Err..pressing the issue…
He and Baz had almost had this talk in full, there’d been some disruption – a phone call – missing pants – coffee spilling. Something, but the young blond had at least talked to him about ‘overwhelming care’ and how that could make people feel. How sometimes piling it on thick and high and constantly pressing the issue was just as bad as offering less than nothing at all. Middle grounds did ******** exist and he swore he knew how to find them without needing a map, and a guide, and his hand held the whole way.
“Y’know…hearing you say that? Really makes me want to argue with you.” It all slowly clicked as she spoke. How she didn’t want to come over, to be held, t’be constrained in her life or caged up in the lives of others either. How this? Was probably the most terrifying thing – the change – the – the vulnerability? And if he sat with the thought he understood more and more that it would become everything.
Body, mind, spirit – him being there – and yes that was because he wanted to be there and also because she’d asked him to! But that was still so damn huge, wasn’t it!? Equal gains – equal losses of a sort, a trade of some kind?
“About the ‘not being a good agent’ part. Not…not anything else..just that little bit there…” He sighed and made to stroke his thumb over the back of her hand instead, relaxed his grip enough to let his fingers simply rest against her own. “Sept, then I’d have to argue other things too, yeah? Like how change can be good…even when it’s terrifying…and…” He tried smiling, knew it felt off, blamed it on the nerves rattling his head and leaving him wondering if he was getting this all wrong. If she’d need to explain it to him like an actual child, and gods how embarrassing would that be?
He knew he was supposed to be listening, to shut his yap for five whole seconds, and – ******** it– shame was for other people! Embarrassment could bite him! Emmy could correct him again!
“The part where you’re this astounding agent? To me. And it’s crazy that someone who somehow isn’t also Axinites long-lost daughter managed to get this far. All on your own merit, n’mind, n’work…” He tried teasing, dredging up an old joke. Remembering dragging her out camping so long ago. How she was never gimli, always galadriel. Powerful and shining. Nothing less than splendorous in his eyes. “How…even though you’re saying that’s what you’ve built your life around? It’s not all that you are, Em’s. Least, that's not how I ever saw you. As just Jadarite, or just the hottie with an axe to grind.” He swallowed, pulled up short, she stressed how honest she was being, and that was important to pay attention to, right?
“But uhm..this? This isn’t really about me, yeah. This is….I wish I knew how to make it better…I could…definitely make a list of everything else you’re good at? Th’kinda things I know you’d agree with me on.”
***
She’d always been good at appearing strong. That had always been her greatest asset. She could hold the axe. She could answer questions quickly, sharply. She could stand tall and make decisions, and people listened to her.
And it had always fallen apart when it mattered. It had always been rare for her to win fights. It had happened a handful of times, but not often. And then there were the bigger things.
“I never bounced back after my bank project went up in smoke,” she explained, and then pulled back away from him to sit tall, her eyes boring into his as much as they ever had. “And that’s the truth. Don’t try to placate me with flattery.”
She had her strengths and she was aware of that fact. But at the same time, she was a realistic person. She needed to be realistic about this, too.
“I went back to my streaming, and YouTube afterwards, but honestly, that’s also begun to plateau.” Her numbers weren’t bad, but they weren’t as good as they could have been, either. “And it’s possible that perhaps I’m the one who’s stagnated.”
It was possible, she’d discovered, to get burnt out on work even when that work revolved around video games and her passions.
“That’s why I’m willing to look at things differently now. A few years ago, I don’t think I would have had a child, but now I will.” Now that the pregnancy was here, she could see it as a new path forwards.
“Which I suppose just leaves the question of what we are.”
***
The look on his face, winced apology, a diminutive, one-sided shrug that gave off ‘hey, at least I tried’ energy. He hadn’t meant to placate her, he just….
He wanted to comfort her in spite of her strength. However practical she was, however logical and stoic. He still wanted to give her flowers on valentines and hold her hand when she looked worried.
Always—- which made it a lot to take in, to watch her, not crumble, but shift in all her thinking. He knew she wasn’t the same after that, wasn’t seeking blood, wasn’t looking as passionate as she had before. He’d never considered the loss to have shaken her, but maybe he should have?
“I don’t know that I would’ve either…At least not with anyone who didn’t know Waru n’ Albite are one in the same — it’s make, uh..everything kinda impossible to explain without both. How I’ve managed anything when I’ve never held a real job..not a permanent one…not outside of ‘this’ and we know I don’t consider that real work? N’my current ‘home’ isn’t livable for a family.” She knew this, he was sure she knew.
“N’My other home isn’t baby-proofed. Or on Earth….” Because he’d ever thought of Aelius' apartment as his ‘home’ so much as it was the man’s residence in which he was crashing for said man’s sake, and he wasn’t seeing their kid raised in the underdark! Visiting was one thing of course? But waru had a sinking suspicion that newborns and their ruling body simply didn’t mix. There was some ‘must be this tall and this old’ to ride kinda limit, he was sure of it.
“You ‘n the kid are the last thing I need to think on…the wanting part…the being there and wanting part…but everything else might be?”
Should’ve been, he knew. In depth, even. The kind of thoughts that reality demands take more than five seconds. It was like doing taxes…but it was figuring out life..,
“I don’t…hell…if you feel you’ve hit a wall, Em’s? You can stand on my shoulders to climb over it. I’ll support you..the changes you wanna make for yourself. Even after you’re very pregnant — even then…shoulders…” hopeful in tone, because he could see her moving away from the games, and moving away from the negaverse. But not quitting, no, instead he could see her shifting her all into some new endeavor and going on to win at that instead!
“As to what we are to each other…I…I’ve never had the word for that? I don’t think we should get married…it’d be cliche’ to do it only now that you’re pregnant...m’not trying to make you right by god with a ring in some weird religious way…” He was realizing he didn’t know enough about her, that he had never pressed for more, that it hadn’t been necessary before, after, ever. She was more to him but he was her weekend fling and it was nice to be one and one together. To enjoy the unconflicting silence in his mind when he came over and out everything else away and focused solely on her.
It was fun—-
But this was serious…and he was trying to treat it with the seriousness it deserved.
“I didn’t even know what wedlock was till I came here? My whole family is bastards….and besides…I’d be a useless dependent…not even worth the paperwork on taxes. Or with a court house...” The thought of going through the motions so suddenly, just to put on an image — and for who? He didn’t want that sort of thing to happen unless it was happening naturally, that was all.
“I just…we can’t just be mommy and daddy? Or, hell, is there a label that you’d like?”
***
Emmy took the welcome distraction to glance for a moment at his arms, to admire the tattoos, the tight muscles underneath. “I have confidence in your strength to carry me,” she said, and she brought one hand over to idly trace his forearms. It was a kind of tenderness she didn’t often show, but she supposed given everything they were talking about, it felt right.
“To carry us.”
She could accept help in this. She would. She was always honest with herself, and part of that honestly had to be knowing when it was better not to be alone.
There would be logistics in that, but Emilia was very good at logistics. “We can get you a job,” she said, in more of her normal tone of voice, the one that was thoughtful, in control. She didn’t say it like it was an option. He wanted to help take care of a child? He was going to have to take care of himself. “And a better place to stay. I can make some calls. It will work out, as long as you’re willing to put in the effort.”
Security paid decently, and he looked intimidating enough. There were also the Negaverse businesses. He had options.
That was easy for Emmy. The harder part was figuring out relationships.
“Mommy and daddy?” sweet, in a way, that he thought it was so simple, but her lip curled all the same. “For the child, that’s fine, I suppose. For everyone else?” she shook her head. “I think ‘baby mommy’ is the worst way that you could possibly phrase this.”
Wife certainly would have been more respectful, and she did not brush the possibility aside immediately. She’d been known to do things for the sake of appearances, but something like that wouldn’t have been fair to Waru. Strange, that she cared how he felt, but she did.
Marriage meant something more to him, and in the past, she’d been clear about not wanting that. No need to change it now.
“Partner?” she offered, after a few moments more thought.
***
His face went through a series of emotions, he liked the concept of ‘baby-mama’ even less than ‘baby-daddy’, the words sounding inelegant coming out of Emmys mouth. Tasting some level of sour, disrespectful in his own mind.
Plain and simple? He hated it.
The same way he hated calling people half anything when raised together as whole-a**, always there, all the time, chosen blood. He was used to a place full of cousins…mothers..teachers…help! All his siblings being his siblings regardless of their patronage, to have it all get chopped up into pieces?
“Partners.”
It worked for him.
The same way the brief compliment and admiring touch worked for him. Her confidence doing wonders for his worries, smoothing out the line of tension he hadn’t realized was lingering between his shoulder blades. He rolled them experimentally, let out a breath. Smiled, something soft, somber, real. Laughing at the notion of a job, not because he was opposed to it! But? This was gonna take work on his end, he could feel it, the gaping cracks ready for him to misstep into and twist his ankle on. A maw full of unknowns, quietly waiting to catch him slipping. Because Emilia was a different breed of girl in his own eyes, always had been, always would be. Her priorities always tripped him up, her expressions kept him guessing. Her needs and her desires, however clear she made them, were unique to her in his own eyes.
Where he wanted hugs and an overflow of words, a beehive of emotions let loose! She wanted a serious, succinct, discussion—
She wanted to tell him the truth quietly, with a grave face, not so grave she’d get wrinkles, but—
And yet I love her all the same —
And yet I trust her to be an amazing mother —-
And—
“Partners, and? If anything— something part time t’start? I don’t even know how t’begin to balance things now with…uh..my current night position? And my extracurriculars…but…” He thought about the desires he did have, the ones that had sat swirling in his mind. Realizations that popped up like whims and impulsively he talked on.
“I wanna house…” He couldn’t begin to think of how he’d outgrown his modular..but he had… “N’to talk about…money? Accounts? Uhm…scenarios and solutions…maybe not right this second!!” He wasn’t trying to panic, didn’t want to dump details down her throat anymore than he wanted to get jumped by them!
“But I…yeah…yes? To us. To this. To you.” Reassurance burbling in a slightly nervous sigh, the edges of the sound buzzing with excitement. Knowing that whatever he couldn’t work out? Emmy inevitably would. One way or another, hopefully with his help!! With whatever he could provide…
“Partner.”
