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Post by malia on Jan 1, 2024 21:29:33 GMT -5
The more the realization seems to dawn on him, the more panicked she can feel herself getting. The way he pulls his hand away to rub it roughly down his face, his eyes all of the sudden seeming a thousand times more tired than they had only a few minutes ago. And it’s her fault. She feels a mixture of guilt and panic., that nausea returning to her in a wave that’s almost overwhelming.
Fuck.
Honestly, what else was there to say? They hadn’t even thought about protection the week of the funeral. It had already been so sad. And she had only been trying to comfort him, or both of them maybe. And dammit, this was the kind of human stuff she just wasn’t very good at. Why wasn’t she very good at it? It had been long enough. She should know these things by now. She tries to calm her breathing again as he takes her hands, squeezing them through her panic as she turns to look back at him.
They would figure it out. They always figured it out. Or at least they had up until this point. They hadn’t wanted Ava when they’d found out about her either. But that was different, and it’s just so soon. She pulls her gaze away when he asks her the question that she knows both of them have been thinking.
She doesn’t know. She doesn’t want to stay for this dinner. She doesn’t even want to talk about their wedding, not anymore. In fact, she kind of just wants to cry…and keep crying…and then cry some more.
“I don’t know,” She whines, burying her face against his shoulder. “I guess we need a test.”
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Post by stiles on Jan 1, 2024 22:23:41 GMT -5
This is… a lot of crying for Malia. So much that Stiles starts to find it hard to believe she’s not pregnant. (Nevermind the fact that he also would like to find a quiet corner to go cry in.) She buries her face in his shoulder as she tells him that she doesn’t know what she wants to do. Well, that makes two of them. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer as she sobs into the fabric of his shirt. Her words are muffled against his chest, but he can still make out I guess we need a test.
And that answers his question of whether or not she had any on hand from the last time.
“We’ll stop on the way home,” he tells her as he rubs her back. Part of him wants to tell her that it’ll be okay, but it feels too trite. Who is he to tell her that it’ll be okay when it’s her body?
He feels the weight of his own guilt again. Birth control had been his responsibility. He had been the one to say they could use condoms when Nat had gone over all of their options at that six week postpartum appointment. It was the only option that had no possible side effects for Malia, and after she had given every part of herself to carry their baby, then deliver her, and then continue to feed her, it had felt like the least he could do. And now, he had managed to forget repeatedly. “I’m sorry,” he tells her as he rests his chin on the top of her head. “I really fucked up.”
Before she can say anything, the sharp sound of Ava’s wails fill the bathroom. He can feel the way Malia immediately tenses in his arms, and it mirrors the way his own chest tightens again. Suddenly, he feels drained. Their baby is crying in the other room while a very possible second baby could already be growing inside Malia. And he wants to vomit all over again.
“That sounds like ours,” he sighs, as if there’s a second baby out there. Malia pulls away, wiping quickly at her eyes while her tears continue to fall, and it’s all he can do to not pull her back into his arms. But it’s only a matter of time before Scott or his dad come looking for them, especially now that Ava is upset. “I can go check on her,” he offers. “You take as long as you need.” Her bottom lip trembles again as she nods, and again, he feels his own heart break for her. “Hey,” he says gently as he takes her chin in his hand. “I love you. No matter what happens, I love you so much.”
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Post by malia on Jan 1, 2024 23:12:08 GMT -5
She breathes him in, pulling him closer, looking for that comfort of his familiar scent and his tight embrace..the warmth of his body. It does make her feel better to be this closer to him, and it feels even better when he presses his lips to her hair, reassuring her that they’ll stop on the way home.
She doesn’t want to wait. She wants to leave now, to take the baby and go. But the human part of her knows they can’t do that. Noah would be upset because they were upset, and Scott and Nat would just think they had some kind of problem with what they had going on…or something. She doesn’t quite get all the intricate details of why staying is a good idea, but she knows from his demeanor and her years of observation that leaving immediately isn’t going to be happening.
She furrows her brow when he apologizes. What was he apologizing for? He hadn’t fucked up. No more than she had. But before she can ask or assure him that she doesn’t think he fucked up at all, the sound of Ava’s crying fills the house. It’s shrill and angry, the sound of her hungry baby. It’s a cry she knows all too well and she can already feel herself getting tense. Her breasts ache at the sound.
She nods at his words, pulling away to wipe the still falling tears from her eyes. She kisses him when he takes her chin into his hand, lingering against his lips. “I love you too,” she whispers tearfully. There was never any doubt about that. Baby or no baby. No matter what happened. He shuts the door behind him but she doesn’t linger. She turns the faucet on, splashing her face with cold water. She can still tell she’s been crying as she looks herself over in the mirror, her eyes are puffy (maybe that was the lack of sleep), her cheeks flushed and her hair messy. She rests a hand against her belly. It doesn’t feel any different. But then, it had taken a long time for anything to change with Ava. So she just sighs as she leaves the bathroom, making her wait to the other room where Stiles is already trying to comfort Ava.
She’s not having any of it. It was time for her to eat again, even though she had spent most of the night last night eating, the day had been much more normal. She doesn’t say anything to their friends, only offering one sympathetic look towards Nat. She hadn’t meant to make her feel bad. She grabs what she needs from the diaper bag, a blanket and a burp cloth, and she takes the angry baby from Stiles.
“She’s hungry,” She says, as though that would explain everything that had happened to the entire room. “I’ll be back.” She makes her way to the other room where she’ll be out of the way. She kisses Ava’s head, getting them situated in the chair as the baby throws a proper fit.
She could barely handle one. How was she going to manage two?
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Post by stiles on Jan 1, 2024 23:59:29 GMT -5
Her lips are soft against his when she leans in to kiss him, and it’s the first time that he thinks she’s going to be okay. No matter what they find out tonight, Malia will be okay. She’s too resilient not to be. Still, he feels guilty to leave her alone there to finish collecting herself, but Ava’s wailing hasn’t stopped.
He emerges from the bathroom to find that everyone else has moved on in their absence. Judging from the smell of charcoal, his dad is out on the deck. Nat and Scott are in the kitchen. Nat holds Ava in her arms, bouncing and rocking her as she does a loop around the island. Again, Scott lingers there against the counter, his gaze soft as he watches Nat with the baby. And Stiles’s first instinct is to remind him of the importance of condoms.
“I can take her,” he says instead as he steps into the kitchen. Nat looks up at the sound of his voice, seeming to shrink a little again. “I think she’s hungry,” she tells him as she hands him the baby. “She’s rooting.”
“Her favorite,” He says with a raised brow as he settles Ava in the crook of his arm, offering her her pacifier. “It’s okay, Aves,” he coos softly. “Mama will be here in a minute.” And it is just a minute before Malia is there. Her face is still pale, and her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but her eyes aren’t red any more. She scoops the baby from her arms, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, and Stiles finds a lump in his throat. Because even in her panic over being pregnant again, she’s the best mom. He rubs her back briefly before she pulls away, heading back to the living room where there will be less to distract the baby.
As soon as she’s gone, both Scott and Nat look to him expectantly. Nat wears an expression of worry that honestly makes Stiles want to give Scott his blessing, weirdness and all. And Scott seems wary, like he’s about to investigate every inch of this house and interrogate them both to make sure there’s no threat. “She’s fine,” he offers before either of them can do anything rash. “We’re just both really fucking tired.” It’s the easiest excuse: for her absence, her tears, for their odd behavior. And Scott and Nat both seem to accept it.
“So you guys have been together for…?” Stiles asks, desperate to change the subject. Luckily, they take the bait. The three of them end up on stools around the island as they start to recount the way they started spending time together even before Ava was born. Stiles does truly want to hear this story of how this happened, but it’s almost impossible to concentrate when his mind is in the next room. He’s too busy wondering if she’s crampy right now, and if there’s anything she can safely take, and if she was crampy when she was pregnant with Ava. He’s too busy thinking about going back to weekly appointments and food aversions and coming home to Malia fast asleep on the couch. He’s too busy imagining her body change again, growing and stretching as she literally creates an entire tiny person, and then trying to imagine her caring for their current tiny person at the same time. He nods and laughs and asks the occasional question, but his brain is still consumed by this new future looming on the horizon.
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Post by malia on Jan 2, 2024 16:52:45 GMT -5
There’s a comfort in sitting there with Ava at her breast that makes her think for the very, very briefest of moments that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have another. The baby gazes up at her with those hazel eyes, what Malia thinks is a look of adoration starting back at her as she opens and closes her fist against her skin. She’s content now, an occasional hiccuping sob all that’s left of the absolute melt down she’d been having when she and Stiles had been having their absolute meltdown in the bathroom.
She listens in to the conversation happening in the other room. Stiles is trying to make small talk even though she can still smell his anxiety and worry from here. He’s doing a pretty good job, but Scott most definitely knows something is going on. And it’s probably why the baby didn’t calm down at all when she was finally in his arms (she usually did). She wants to be curious about Nat and Scott, to find out more about how long this relationship has been happening under their noses without them knowing, but she finds her mind is just too preoccupied to even think about anything other than the possibility that she’ll take a test later and see a pink plus sign starring back at her.
Ava has finished nursing from both breasts by the time Noah comes in with the freshly cooked meat and Melissa begins to set the table. Malia lays her down on the couch, content for the time being, so she can put herself back together. She picks Ava up, gently patting her on the back as she makes her way back to the table to join the others. Ava breaks the tension as she lets out a belch that most certainly could have come out of a baby twice her size and even Malia finds herself laughing a little as she settles the baby there in her lap.
She tries to make herself seem less weird by offering up an attempt at conversation. “Smells delicious,” she says with a smile, though she’s not sure she’s going to be able to actually eat anything.
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Post by stiles on Jan 2, 2024 19:03:57 GMT -5
Any time Nat is even partially distracted, Scott shoots Stiles a worried look. It’s how he knows he smells like a volatile mixture of anxiety and fear. But he can’t help it. He silently hopes that it’ll fade once he can’t hear the baby literally scream from the next room. But once she’s quiet, Nat tells a story about Scott stepping in to act as an epidural for a stubborn patient, and Stiles is stuck envisioning himself back in the delivery room less than a year after Ava’s birth. She tells Scott to tell a story about a mom who managed to lose a toddler in Nat’s office while at her newborn’s appointment with Scott, and Stiles wonders if this is what his future looks like. He’s present enough to note that Scott and Nat grew close working weekends together at a free clinic, but he misses what they did for their first date and their second and last night. Because he’s too worried about himself.
Luckily, his dad saves him with the announcement that dinner is ready. Stiles excused himself to let Malia know. In the living room, he finds her at least appearing calm, but her smile still doesn’t reach her eyes when she nods and lets him know she’ll be there in a minute. Back in the kitchen, he busies himself with helping to set the table and getting Malia a glass of water, aware of the way Scott still watches him. At least he doesn’t say anything as Malia joins them again and Stiles heads to the guest room to grab the baby’s rocker. Still, it feels like Scott’s eyes follow him.
He sets the rocker beside Malia, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “You should give your arms a break while you can,” he says as he takes his seat beside hers. His eyes dart across the table to Scott. It’s not surprising that he’s now watching Malia with that same intensity. It makes Stiles’s own chest feel tight, so he taps Malia’s arm before Scott can say anything. “They’ve been dating since before Ava was born,” he tells her, trying to take control of the conversation.
Of course, it doesn’t last. The whole purpose of tonight was to talk about the wedding, so they don’t even get through filling their plates before Noah broaches the subject. As it is, Stiles feels too nauseous to do more than push food around his plate even before his dad says, “Have you thought at all about a date?
“Well, we know we want to get married outside,” Stiles says. He glances over at Malia to double check that this is still true, but she’s bent over, doing something for the baby. “So not any time soon.”
“You’d think in California, you’d have more options,” Melissa says.
“A friend just got married. She said the best month to book anything is August,” Nat adds.
A few hours ago, Stiles wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but now, he starts counting months, adding them up until he feels like he might puke right there. This time, when he looks over at Malia, she’s staring back at him. “August is nine months from now,” he says, swallowing hard.
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Post by malia on Jan 2, 2024 21:08:40 GMT -5
She gently settles Ava into her rocker when Stiles brings it into the room, setting it down beside her. She didn’t mind having the baby in her arms when she ate, she was kind of used to it, but she also kind of feels like she’s running on autopilot right now….doing whatever she can do to try to get through this dinner so they can figure out if there’s another baby.
Her Alpha’s gaze on her burns a hole right through her forehead. She pushes the food around on her plate, trying to avoid his eyes. Whether she liked it or not, he would always have some kind of control over her. If he wanted to know what was really going on, he could get it out of her, and that was the last thing she wanted. And she knows that’s the last thing Stiles wants. Scott would always have some kind of supernatural hold over her as her Alpha, that would never change whether they liked it or not. Luckily Stiles steps in to try and break the building tension. She offers him a half-hearted smile and nods. Dating since before Ava was born…how interesting….Nobody had known. Or maybe it was just them that hadn’t known? Maybe they were too caught up in their own stuff to really notice anything that anybody else had going on. She’d wonder later when she wasn’t preoccupied.
But then the conversation takes a sharp turn right towards their wedding date. She continues pushing the food around on her plate, all of her appetite gone, though she doesn’t want to seem ungrateful. August. She mulls the date over in her mind as she stares at the pile of now mixed food on her plate. If she was pregnant now, and had been for a few weeks, she would be almost ready to give birth in August. She wanted to be married to Stiles, desperate. She stares at the ring on her finger as it catches the evening sunlight.
Before she even realizes what she’s doing, she speaks. She knows he wants to be married before they have another baby, and maybe that would be for the best. But there might already be another baby, and August is too far away for that. “Maybe we should do it sooner.”
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Post by stiles on Jan 2, 2024 21:42:23 GMT -5
Now, Stiles’s mind is in August. His gaze is locked on hers, but his brain is locked on late summer. She’ll be miserable, being that heavily pregnant during the hottest part of the summer. She had been miserable with Ava, and Ava had been born a month later. Or by the end of August, they could have a newborn. Ava wouldn’t be one yet, and Malia wouldn’t be herself again yet. There would be no Labor Day weekend with the pack at the lake. How could they fit two cribs in the room they stayed in at Lydia’s family’s second home? Hell, how could they fit another baby in their own current home?
Malia breaks eye contact when she speaks, and it immediately pulls him back into the moment. “Sooner would be good,” he agrees with a nod.
His mind races as he does more math. April would be the first month they could be sure it would be warm enough for an outdoor ceremony. May would be warmer and brighter. By then, she’d be six months pregnant. She’d be showing, but they wouldn’t have to worry about her being in labor when they were supposed to get married. They’d still share a last name by the time the baby was born. If there was a baby. (Which at some point, his brain had just accepted there would be.)
“What about May?” He asks, looking at Malia, and then his dad when she doesn’t look up from her plate. Scott’s gaze still feels heavy and observant, but Stiles ignores it as Melissa comments that May would be beautiful and then starts talking about floral arrangements and color palettes.
Nat asks Scott a question when Melissa mentions the Preserve, and Stiles takes everyone’s momentary distraction as an opportunity with Malia. He reaches over to take her hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing her hand. “You should eat something,” he says quietly so only she can hear. He feels like a hypocrite as he says it, but his brain can’t stop thinking about her body feeding one baby while supporting another, and surely, she can’t do that without taking care of herself.
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Post by malia on Jan 2, 2024 22:23:21 GMT -5
Her mind is racing, but Stiles’s words seem to pull her back into the moment. “Yeah…May,” she agrees. “Maybe May would be better.”
The room falls back into conversation, mostly Melissa and Noah, and she’s okay with that. For one thing, she knew that this whole wedding thing was going to be beyond her. She didn’t care about the party and the ceremony and the flowers, she just wanted to marry Stiles. The planning was never going to be something she was good at or had much interest in. Nat and Scott sit across from them sharing unspoken glances, she’s sure that Scott’s hand is resting on Nat’s leg under the table. She’s not sure why, she can just sense it. She can also sense his arousal. They’ll be having sex later. Ava whimpers slightly on the floor there beside her and she looks down at the baby. She’s still sleeping, occasionally moving enough to suck vigorously on her pacifier before stilling again.
Everything just seems to be swirling around her while she’s lost in this little whirlwind of worry and anticipation and anxiety and she’s really not sure how the hell she’s going to make it through the rest of this night. Stiles shakes her out of her own thoughts as he grabs her hand, and she turns to look at him as he urgent her to eat.
“I don’t think I can,” She tells him. “I feel like somebody just dropped a brick into my stomach.” She tries to speak quietly, so nobody else at the table will hear the conversation they’re having. “Besides, I’m not hungry. Not now.” She attempts to listen to him, picking up her fork and taking a bite of the salad that Melissa had made to go with the meal. It did taste good, but she’s not sure she can even eat one more bite. “Maybe we can leave soon?” She asks him in an almost pleading voice.
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Post by stiles on Jan 2, 2024 23:59:52 GMT -5
Stiles understands what she means. His own stomach protests every time he takes a bite, thanks to his anxiety. Her voice is small when she speaks. Everything about her feels small right now, and it makes his heart ache almost as much as his chest hurts under the weight of his panic. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “Yeah. We can leave soon,” he whispers close to her ear.
His mind immediately starts working, trying to find an out, but it’s like Ava can pick up on their weird energy the same way Scott can. She chooses that moment to wake up wailing, and Malia almost knocks her chair over in her rush to take the baby and have an excuse to leave the room. Scott’s eyes follow her out of the room. Stiles watches him go so far as push his chair away from the table before Stiles does the only thing he can think to do. “What about you two?” he asks, eyebrow raised. “Any wedding plans?”
Nat chokes, and Scott turns bright red, and the rest of dinner passes in a blur. Or maybe it’s just a blur for Stiles whose brain is stuck on doing the math for what it’ll cost them to have two in diapers and wondering if there’s a discount if you return to Labor & Delivery twice in one year. In the next room, the baby is intermittently quiet before she screams again the same way she did last night. Stiles groans inwardly at the realization that the cluster feeding has, in fact, not stopped. And he feels the weight of their current reality settle in the pit of his stomach once again.
They’ve just started to clean the table when Ava starts to wail again. Melissa’s smile is soft and sympathetic when she takes the salad bowl from his hands. “If you need to get her home, we understand,” she offers, and for the second time that night Stiles thinks he might cry, this time for a very different reason. Malia also looks like she might cry from relief when he joins her in the living room to pack up the baby’s things and finally head out.
It’s a tense quiet between the two of them as she buckles the baby in and he packs up the diaper bag. All of the color has drained from Malia’s face, and he wonders if she might actually throw up before they make it out the door, but then again, maybe he’s just projecting. In her worry, Malia forgets to say goodbye, heading straight to the car with the baby. Stiles is contemplating slipping out behind her in the same way when Nat corners him. His heart starts to race with the fear that she somehow knows. That her supernatural senses picked up on something different about Malia. But then she offers him the name of an ointment for Malia’s sore nipples instead, and he laughs in a way that probably makes him seem crazy. But maybe not as crazy as she probably thinks he is when he embraces her, unable to find the words to apologize for their odd behavior tonight.
He almost makes it out the door a second time when his dad rounds the corner. Noah walks him out to the porch, but then stops him with a hand on his shoulder. Stiles is aware of the fact that his dad looks worn, too; worried in a way that lets Stiles know that even if Nat didn’t pick up on their weirdness, Noah certainly had. “You know there’s no rush,” he says. “If you two are having second thoughts about getting married…”
Again, Stiles laughs in a way that’s probably inappropriate as he shakes his head. “This is what we want,” he assures his dad. “We’re just so tired.”
Noah looks apprehensive still, but Stiles is starting to feel like he might pass out or puke right there on the front porch, so he gives his dad a quick hug before he uses the baby’s cluster feeding as an excuse again and heads to the car. Inside the Jeep, Ava is still fussing, but Malia doesn’t even seem to notice. She’s biting her bottom lip again, and she looks small in the front seat, too. He’s not sure if it’s intentional, but he doesn’t miss the hand that rests low on her abdomen. It takes his breath away for a second because it feels so concrete. So real. But he tries to push it aside as he brings his own hand to rest on the warm skin of her thigh, just below the hem of her cutoffs. “You doing okay?”
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Post by malia on Jan 3, 2024 19:45:22 GMT -5
She’s never been so glad to leave Stiles childhood home. Ever. In fact, when she’d first come back it had been the only place that she felt safe.
Until just now. She is so relieved that Ava seems to have fallen right back into the same pattern as she was in the night before. She’s never been so glad that Stiles was supportive of her, always. She’s never been so grateful to hear Ava screaming from the back seat as Stiles buckles her seat into the car. She’d seen Noah stop Stiles before he walked away from the door, and she’d taken note of the serious look on his face as he talked to his son. But she just tries to push it from her mind, hoping that his father wasn’t talking to him about what an absolute crazy person he had gotten himself mixed up with. She didn’t really care about what other people thought about her, except Stiles…and Noah.
His hand comes to rest comfortably on the skin right below the cut-off of her shorts and it breaks her out of her own worried thoughts. She lets go of her bottom lip, but she can already taste blood on the inside of her mouth, and she looks over at him with apologetic eyes. “I’m okay,” she assures him. “I just want to get this over with.” It comes out differently than she means. She’s sure she doesn’t mean get it over with…not really. “I mean, figured out.”
Yeah, that sounded better than getting it over with.
She moves her hand to rest over his on her leg, her fingers sliding in between his own. She can sense his nerves, feeding off of his anxiety, but she doesn’t mind this time. It only seems to match her own. He nods, his face resolute. And within a half hour, they have bought more than enough tests to tell them for sure if this is really happening and they’re pulling back into the drive way of his small house while Ava screams at the top of her lungs from the backseat.
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Post by stiles on Jan 3, 2024 22:46:00 GMT -5
Stiles knows what she means when she says get it over with. If Malia is pregnant, there won’t be any getting over it; it’ll be the next nine months of their lives, and then the next 18 years of their lives. But this not knowing is the part they need to bring to an end. It’s been an hour at most since she dragged him into the bathroom, and already he feels like he might be losing his mind. He squeezes her hand where it rests on her thigh. “We’re gonna figure it out,” he tells her again, wishing he could offer her more than that.
At the pharmacy, he leaves her alone in the car to try to soothe the screaming baby while he ventures in alone. And it takes him all of thirty seconds in the Family Planning aisle to realize he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing. He vividly remembers the test she took with Ava had had a bright pink plus sign, but other boxes claim to tell you up to 10 days sooner! Sooner than what? he wonders even as he grabs that one and the one beside it. In the end, he leaves the aisle with five different tests and two boxes of condoms. If he didn’t have to walk past the alcohol section on his way to the checkout, he probably wouldn’t have stopped, but a six pack rounds out his haul. Which is probably why the guy behind the register smirks as he hands him his two bags and says, “Good luck.”
They’re going to need it.
They’re both silent on the five minute drive home, and he’s not sure if that’s because she also doesn’t know what to say, or because Ava is still screaming so loudly, it’s hard to even think. Once inside, he hands her the bag from the pharmacy. “I’ll try to get her to take a bottle,” he tells Malia. He thinks he might catch her bottom lip tremble before she bites it again. She stays rooted to that spot in the kitchen, too, when he thought she might immediately flee to their en suite and shred the packaging with her claws. This time, he does lean in closer, resting his palm against her cheek as he runs his thumb over her lip. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
He watches her shoulders rise and fall as she takes a deep breath before she nods and finally heads towards their bedroom. Stiles leaves Ava screaming in her carseat long enough to make a bottle - the fastest bottle he’s ever prepared - and then he follows the same path he watched Malia take. By the time he reaches the bathroom and the door she left wide open, the tests are spread out across the counter, and she has the directions from one fanned out before her. And suddenly, Stiles is unsure of what to do. He wasn’t here last time, so he doesn’t know what kind of support to offer. He’s not sure if she’s delaying the inevitable because she’s not ready, or if she’s trying to still make sense of the directions. And it probably doesn’t help that Ava is still screaming.
Stiles lets a drop of milk drip onto his pinky, getting Ava to take that before he pulls his finger away at the same time he gives her the nipple of the bottle. With her fooled for the moment, he steps closer, trying to read over Malia’s shoulder. “Do you need help?” he finally offers gently.
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Post by malia on Jan 4, 2024 16:08:53 GMT -5
She doesn’t want to do this alone, not like she did last time. But at the same time, she’s relieved when he says he’ll take Ava to try and get her to take a bottle because her wailing is putting Malia on edge and she really just wants to get this over with. Ava hasn’t been keen on taking a bottle since the whole cluster feeding (Stiles told her all about what it was) had started, so there’s a good chance it won’t work. But if he can just pull it off for a few minutes, maybe that would give her enough time to take the tests and she could nurse while they were waiting.
Oh God, is this how she was going to have to juggle things from now on? Distracting one so she could take care of the other and the other way around?
She nods as she takes the bag from him, taking a deep breath to steel her resolve as she turns to make her way to the bathroom. He bought a lot of tests, more than she’d bought the first time she did this, and they’re all different. She lays them all out, still quite aware of Ava’s wails from down the hallway, and examines the packaging. She takes a deep breath and opens it all up, spreading it across the counter, and that’s when she sees Stiles leaning agains the doorway. Right as he settles there, he seems to trick Ava into taking the bottle and she quiets down for the time being.
She shakes her head, before brushing past him. “I need a cup,” she says, brushing her palm across Ava’s hair as she passes by them as if she could pull some comfort from the action. Ava’s still taking the bottle when she comes back into the bathroom. “Will you read me the directions for whichever one I’m using…?” She asks him uncertainly as she works on pulling her shorts down. He nods and she settles herself to try and get as much in the cup as she can. She can tell Stiles doesn’t know what to do with himself as she pees…but the fact that he’s standing there while she does doesn’t bother her.
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Post by stiles on Jan 4, 2024 18:07:46 GMT -5
He doesn’t miss the way that her head lingers on the baby’s head, like she’s trying to steal some of the calm Ava blessedly possesses for the first time in more than 24 hours. It takes all of his self control to not reach out and grab her wrist, to stop her and pull her close and promise her one more time that they’ll figure this out together. It shouldn’t, but it surprises Stiles how much he wishes they could switch places again. He felt that way both times she was hospitalized before Ava was born, and then even more strongly for the entire time she was in labor. But he feels it again now, that unignorable need to be able to do more for her. But he can’t take the test for her. He can’t be the one to carry the physical burden of a second baby. He can’t even truly assuage her fears.
But he can read directions, and he’s grateful for her request when she returns. As she moves to pull her shorts down, he looks at the array of tests across the counter. It feels unnecessary and a little ridiculous to see them all there now, but he had just felt so lost in that aisle. “This one?” he asks her, holding up the only opened box with that familiar test and its bright pink plus sign on the front. Malia nods as she sits, and he busies himself reading the directions. His attention is pulled away only when he hears the soft smack of Ava’s mouth falling away from the bottle. Stiles finds himself bracing for the return of the crying, but when he glances down, she’s asleep, at least for now. And that, at least, feels like a small victory.
When Malia finishes and washes her hands, he passes her the test. “It says to uncap it and then hold it in the cup for 20 seconds,” he tells her. He watches her hand shake, unable to look away, as if it might immediately give them the answer they’re seeking. Instead, she just lifts the test after 20 seconds, looking at him expectantly. “Then you cap it and lay it flat,” he says. “And now we wait ten minutes.”
Immediately, Stiles feels like he might puke again, and Malia looks like she might burst into tears again. And he knows neither of those things will be helpful. “C’mere,” he says instead, gently taking her head. “I set a timer on my phone.” She doesn’t say anything, but she lets him lead her out of the bathroom. He drops her hand just long enough to lay Ava down in her basinet, knowing she can be changed into her pajamas later, and then he pulls her towards their bed. He lays down first, feeling relieved when she follows suit. Stiles doesn’t hesitate before pulling her into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head when she lays her head down on his chest.
His mind starts to race again with thoughts about the future, about diapers and sleepless nights and another tiny mouth to feed. About watching her body change and the warm weight of a newborn against his chest, and the idea of falling in love with another piece of her all over again. “How terrible would it be if you’re pregnant again?” he asks her before he can stop himself. Malia’s head lifts immediately, her expression a mix of shock and horror. “I know this is far from ideal,” he assures her, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. He lets his hand linger there on her cheek as he says, “But I don’t think Ava is the worst thing we’ve ever done together.”
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Post by malia on Jan 4, 2024 20:50:44 GMT -5
She follows his instructions incredibly carefully. She counts to each amount of time he lists. She makes sure the test is fully emerged, and fully capped when she’s finished. If there was going to be some kind of error with the test, she didn’t want their continued anxiety to rest on her shoulders. She sighs, looking down at the test when she settles it there where it has to sit for another 10 minutes before they’ll know anything.
She’s beyond grateful when he finally leads her out of the bathroom. She remembered the last time she did this. The waiting alone for the result to show up on the test was perhaps the worst part of the entire experience. And sure, she wouldn’t be alone this time, but the waiting would be worse for his anxiety than it was for her…she’s almost sure of that. Ava is sleeping pretty soundly when he settles her down in her bassinet and that’s another thing she’s grateful for. She follows his lead, crawling into bed beside him and curling in as close as she possibly can. She rests her head against his familiar chest and he wraps his arm around her, pulling her closer as if that were even possible.
His chest vibrates against her cheek as he speaks and she’s sure she must have misheard him. She lifts her head so she can look at him with confusion. But he doesn’t stop there, and she settles immediately as he reaches up to brush some hair behind her ear as she listens to him.
“I think shes the best thing,” She agrees. She rests her hand on his abdomen, letting it run soothingly to his side and back again. “But what if I can’t take care of two? Sometimes I feel like I’m barely taking good enough care of her. And where would we put it?”
It’s a valid question. His house isn’t very big. And since she’s come back, its inhabitants have increased 150 percent. When he’d bought it, it was only him.
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