Chapter Text
“Luke? Is that you?”
“Do other people enter our house with the doorcode this late at night?” he calls back, opening the fridge and scanning its contents.
“Often, actually, yeah,” she huffs. “Our friends have no boundaries.”
“Fair,” he snorts, pulling out an apple.
“So um….,” Thalia’s voice increases in volume as she enters the kitchen behind him. “I was trying to wear your jersey the other day. The gold one- nothing special. I was just going to read some data from work.”
“Hmmm,” he hums, pulling a knife from the block.
“And uh… it didn’t fit. I mean, it did, but it didn’t fit normally. It felt kind of… tight.”
Luke pauses, knife in the air, and sucks air against his teeth. This is beginning to feel like a trap. “It’s a trap!” Admiral Ackbar. A classic.
“Huh,” he says noncommittally
“And um… so I went to um… the doctor and uh….”
His brow furrows. The doctor? For what? Ozempic?
“Uh huh,” he says again, pressing the knife down into the apple.
“Turn around dumbass,” Thalia says softly.
When he turns, Thalia is holding a tiny white jersey. It’s his jersey still: same number and name, but it’s tiny as fuck.
“Ummmm,” he says stupidly.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to wear it much longer,” she says, blinking back tears. “But I made a new one so somebody else could.”
Luke furrows his brow at her. “Like… a hamster? Cause that thing is small!”
“Oh my god,” Thalia rolls her eyes, laughing wetly. “No, Luke. Like a baby.”
“Like… a….”
His knees give out and he slams his elbow against the counter on the way down, sending the uncut apple flying into the sink.
“Luke!” She giggles in concern, carefully dropping to her knees beside him. “Are you okay?”
“We’re having a baby?” he asks weakly, tears spilling their way down his face. “We’re pregnant?”
“I’m pregnant,” she clarifies. “You aren’t shit. But yes, Luke. I’m having your baby.”
(They end up needing to custom make another jersey after all. But neither one of them minds much. And it makes for the cutest Christmas cards the year after the twins are born.)