Chapter Text
Nora Darhk was dying; she was sure of it.
Her uterus was trying to eat her alive. Even worse, it felt as if full-grown elephants were violently stampeding across her lower back. It made her almost wistful for the days she'd spent possessed by Mallus in an asylum for the clinically insane, because she was pretty certain she’d take the Big Bad Demon himself any day over the white-hot searing pain she felt currently tearing her lower abdomen to shreds.
And sure, she’d been through this many times before. It’s not as if she was having her period for the very first time. Her cycle had been fairly regular for as long as she could recall... Though she did sometimes think about whether they stopped while Mallus was taking control of her body. She'd eventually decided she was really just better off not knowing, even if it did give her some degree of perverse satisfaction to think of the mighty Mallus suffering from menstrual cramps on a monthly basis. But alas, the cramps were nothing new—just Mother Nature doling out her completely unsolicited punishment to Nora for having the gall to be born with a uterus.
Somehow, though, this—the agony she’s feeling right now—is worse.
She thinks it might be the direct result of being a prisoner of the Time Bureau, then breaking out of the Time Bureau, and also being framed for murder and forced to go on the run by a new powerful demon that makes Mallus look like a petulant toddler in comparison. Honestly, it’s not exactly news that the past couple months have taken their toll on her body.
She should be grateful, really. She’s not trapped in a cage anymore, Nate Heywood is no longer convinced she murdered his father, and on top of all that, she’s sleeping in the same bed with the tall and very muscle-y human teddy bear superhero otherwise known as Ray Palmer.
Not that she has a crush on him, or anything. That would be dumb.
No, Nora doesn’t do crushes. Much less with guys like Ray Palmer.
So what if she thinks his smile is cute sometimes, or catches herself staring at his muscular forearms on occasion, or has a few sex dreams here and there about him tearing off her clothes and passionately ravaging her in his bed?
So what?
It’s not like she likes him for his actual personality (which she really does), or that nervous laugh he does at the stupidest of times (which she actually thinks is adorable), or his incessant need to help everyone he happens across like the hopelessly altruistic Boy Scout he is (which, although she tries to deny it, never fails to make her weak in the knees).
Alright, fine.
Maybe she likes him a little bit.
It’s not like that means anything.
Especially now, when she feels as if she’s literally dangling on the edge of death in the man’s bed, and even the earthy scent of him mixed with the slightest hint of his cologne isn’t enough to distract her from wishing Mallus had just taken pity on her and launched her into the Underworld when he’d been given the chance.
Actually, he’d been given many chances to do just that. And yet: here she is, sweat beading at her temples, red-hot knives of pain stabbing her pelvis from every side. If Mallus wasn’t already in hell, she’d have sent him there herself right then, because Fuck.
And then, because things hadn’t been going badly enough, Ray chose that moment to stroll into his quarters where she lay dying, an infuriatingly cheerful grin on his face as he hummed the namesake tune from the musical Singin’ in the Rain.
(She refused to acknowledge that his borderline obsession with the movie was actually something she found quite endearing.)
“Ray,” she managed to growl, her voice gravelly to her ears. “I like you, but if you don’t stop humming right this second, I’m turning myself back in to the Time Bureau.”
The humming stopped. “You… You like me?”
Christ.
She didn’t bother turning to glare at him in response; she didn’t have the energy. “Ray,” she scolded instead.
“Oh—Oh, right,” Ray recovered, doing that nervous chuckle of his even as Nora cursed the way her heart leapt at the sound. “No more humming. Got it.”
What a dork, she thought.
There was a blessed silence for a moment. Nora took the opportunity to focus on her breathing, even as she could feel Ray’s attentive eyes upon her.
“Hey,” he said eventually in a soft tone. She felt him sit carefully on the bed, just beside her prone and shivering figure. “Are you okay?”
She turned weakly to look at him, hating how she ached at the genuine concern on his features, his brows stitched together with worry.
“Fine,” she managed to choke out.
“Nora…” Ray trailed off with a sigh, shifting to place a large but gentle hand over hers atop the covers.
Her eyes darted to his as she tried to effect a halfway convincing look with an unsteady quirk of her lips. “It’ll pass, Ray. Don’t worry.”
The crease in his forehead deepened even as she longed to reach out and smooth it away. “How can you know that? What if you’re really sick?” he asked, rubbing soothing circles into her skin.
“This happens every month, okay?” she said, hoping he’d realize what she was trying to say. Discussing her menstrual cycle with Ray Palmer was something she really didn’t have the energy for right now.
She fought the urge to roll her eyes as the confusion on his face only worsened. “What—What do you mean?” he asked, sounding borderline frantic as he devolved into a classic Ray Palmer ramble. “Is it a medical condition? Have you seen a doctor? Nora, what if this is serious?”
Then he was looking at her with a desperate and searching gaze, and Oh, well, she thought. Might as well just say it.
“I’m on my period,” she stated as casually as she could. "I think it’s just worse because of how things have been for me the past month or so. But that’s how I know it’ll pass. Okay?”
Ray gaped for a long moment, then abruptly shut his mouth, then opened it again, clearly struggling for a coherent response. “Uh—I—You—” he stammered, his eyes darting down to her belly then instantly back up. Nora felt her cheeks burn under his inspection. “Oh! Oh! You… Oh! “
Please, Mallus, just take me now, she pleaded silently.
“I—You—I… I’m sorry,” Ray managed to say after a fair amount of sputtering, looking almost contrite—but his hand didn’t move from Nora’s, for which she was immensely grateful… not that she’d ever admit such a thing, of course.
Nora felt a small smile quirking at her lips despite herself, because of course: only Ray Palmer would apologize to her during her monthly period as if it was somehow his fault that the female reproductive system functions the way that it did.
“Don’t be sorry,” she spoke, letting out an amused huff of air. “If anything, I’m sorry you have to deal with me like this.”
Ray’s eyes, if at all possible, instantly grew wider. “What?” he yelped, his voice at least an octave higher than normal. "No! I love—” he cut himself off, clearing his throat, then continued in a purposefully deeper tone: “I, um, I like having you here.”
Something in her ribcage fluttered at the man’s adorable awkwardness.
“Good,” she said quietly. “I like being here.”
She’d hate herself for showing such weakness later, but it was worth it, she decided, to see how Ray positively beamed at her admission.
It was quiet for another moment, Nora gazing up into Ray’s soft brown eyes as he continued stroking random patterns into the skin of her wrist, tingles spreading everywhere inside her at the utter safety and familiarity of it all.
She wanted to groan when they were interrupted seconds later by the Palmer Tech watch on Ray’s wrist letting out a shrill beep, the man shooting her an apologetic look as he absentmindedly pressed a couple of buttons and squinted at the alert on the screen.
He sighed. “Mick forgot how to use the toaster again. I gotta go make sure he doesn’t burn down the Waverider,” he squeezed his hand tenderly around hers, then moved to stand beside the bed, turning to fix that absolutely debilitating puppy-eyed gaze upon her. “Is there anything I can get you? Chocolate? Heating pads? F—" he interrupted himself with a cough, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “F-Feminine hygiene products?”
She didn’t know whether to melt at his adorable consideration or just allow the ground to swallow her whole to end her embarrassment.
“That’s okay, Ray,” she assured him. “You don’t have to do that.”
He took a halting step forward, an eager look on his features. “B-But I want to! I want—I want to help.”
God, he’s precious, she thought.
She smiled. “No, I’m okay.”
“If you’re sure… “
“100%. Just go make sure Mick doesn’t blow us all up.”
At that, he grinned widely. “Yes ma’am.”
And with that, he was gone.
⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥
It had taken Ray about 30 minutes to gather everyone in the Parlour for an impromptu team meeting. He’d have just asked Gideon to announce it over the loudspeaker, if not for a very weak and shivering Nora Darhk currently bundled up in his quarters that he would rather die than disturb right now. Even so, it was not a terribly popular undertaking. He’d been yelled at by a very upset Sara and Ava for again daring to interrupt their scant alone time (they were now wearing matching glares as he thanked everyone for coming); John had been completely naked in the library while doing some form of magic yoga, a sight Ray might never be able to erase from his brain; Charlie and Zari had been “wrestling” in Zari’s room, where Ray had walked in upon a smirking Charlie forcefully tugging a giggling Zari to sit on her lap (he didn’t understand for the life of him why they weren’t dating yet, because Wow); Mick had been trying (and failing) to construct a Molotov cocktail down in the lab as Mona watched him set various items aflame without the slightest hint of concern; and lastly, Nate had been constructing a very detail-oriented protein shake in the kitchen that smelled like compost.
“So!” he clapped his hands together, trying to be optimistic amidst a sea of unimpressed glares. “I wanted your guys’ help with something!”
Zari raised her hand. “Do we have to?” she asked, voice muffled around a mouthful of the chocolate-and-sprinkles donut she’d been eating.
Mick grunted from where he sat sprawled on the floor, taking another swig of his beer. “What she said.”
“10 minutes, guys,” he pleaded. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“Well, squire,” John drawled around his unlit cigarette, dressed unashamedly in only a fluffy white towel around his waist, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his exposed upper half. “You’d better get on with it, eh?”
Ray nodded absentmindedly. “Right—"
“Hold it,” Charlie interrupted from her spot next to Zari, tilting her head at John. “I didn’t know we were allowed to walk around naked. I’d have started wearing much less ages ago!”
Zari sighed. “Can we not do this right now?”
“What?” Charlie turned to her with a smug grin, nudging her playfully. “You know you’d like it.”
Zari opened her mouth to protest, cheeks flushed, but was quickly cut off by a wide-eyed Mona: “That was really gay,” she observed in her airy tone. “Did anyone else see that?”
“I did,” Nate piped up.
“Yup,” Mick said gruffly.
“Zari and Charlie…” Mona mused, then her eyes brightened as if she’d thought of something even as Zari groaned into her hands. “Oh my God! Your ship name would be Zarlie! That’s so—"
"Thank you, Mona,” Sara interrupted sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “But to be clear: No one is allowed to walk around naked.”
“Bollocks!” the shape-shifter protested, flipping the bird at John who stood barefoot next to the smaller table, leisurely spinning the globe of the Earth with a dainty finger. “He’s doin’ it right now!”
John heaved a dramatic sigh. “I’m not even fully naked, love! Though,” he paused for effect, winking flirtatiously at an unamused Charlie, “that can be arranged."
“John, go put on some clothes,” Sara ordered, exasperation clear in her tone.
The blonde-haired man just shrugged inconsequentially. “Only 'cause you asked so nicely, pet,” he replied charmingly with another wink, ignoring Sara’s scowl and Ava’s withering glare as he padded down the steps and around the corner, presumably to his quarters.
“Now that that’s settled,” Ray said, “Nora—"
“You finally boned, didn’t ya?” Charlie practically yelled. “I knew it!”
Ray’s brow furrowed, mouth agape. “That’s not—“
“Ah,” Mick grunted again, raising his bottle as if to toast to him. “Good one, Haircut.”
Ray chuckled nervously. “No, you guys don’t understand—“
“I can’t believe you lied to me when I specifically asked if you had the hots for her!” Nate interjected, looking vaguely indignant. "I thought we were Time Bros!”
“We are, Nate, I just—"
“Did you use protection?” Sara asked sternly, eyes narrowed as Ava nodded solemnly beside her, and Oh my God, I can’t believe this is happening, he thought.
“No, we—"
“You didn’t use protection?! ” Ava questioned incredulously, outrage showing clearly on her features.
“You really don’t underst—"
Nate gasped. “You’re gonna be a dad? ”
“Mazel Tov,” Mick offered from the floor.
“No—"
“And you didn’t think to consult me about this?” Sara glared, arms crossed. “I can’t believe you, the irresponsibility—“
“Dude,” Zari spoke up, “are you even ready to be a father?”
“I—"
Charlie blew out a long breath. “This is fuc—"
“I’m not gonna be a dad!” Ray yelped suddenly, effectively silencing everyone else in the room. “No one boned anyon—No sex, okay? None!” he finished, his voice cracking hysterically on the final syllable.
There was a measured silence.
“Damn, buddy, I’m sorry,” Nate said eventually. “That must be rough. Wanna talk about it?”
Mona nodded eagerly. “We’re here for you! It’s been a long time since I got some action, too.”
“Preaching to the choir,” muttered Zari.
Sara smirked. “Well, I’m sure Charlie would be more than happy to help you out with that.”
“Just say the word, babe,” Charlie added, smirking down at a reddening Zari.
“Guys!” Mona complained insistently, her expression serious. “We’re supposed to be helping out Ray right now! Our teammate is having a hard time dealing with his sexual frustration.”
“Wait—You—What?” Ray sputtered, because Oh my God. “No—You—No, guys, that’s not what I’m upset about!”
Mona just nodded her head sympathetically, looking as though she didn’t believe a word he’d just said. At all. “We’ve all been there,” she said emphatically with an understanding gaze. “The first step is acceptance.”
Ray’s eyes widened. “No, really, that’s not what’s going on here—“
“Aw, c’mon, mate,” Charlie cut him off with a lazy grin. “Sex is a very natural human activity, alright? Nothing to be—“
“Nora’s vagina is bleeding!” he blurted before he could stop himself, wincing almost immediately at the less-than-ideal wording as silence promptly fell upon the room.
“Cripes,” came a voice from behind him, and Ray whirled around to see a fully-dressed (Thank God) John Constantine, observing the scene before him with interest as he waltzed back into the room. “I didn’t know you were that well-endowed, squire. I suppose congratulations are in order,” he said with a grin, clapping Ray loudly on the back before strutting across the floor to lean against the wall next to Mona.
“Wait, I thought they didn’t have sex… " Nate interjected, his brows furrowed.
“‘Congratulations’?!” Ava yelped in protest, more or less ignoring Nate’s comment as she fixed John with an incredulous stare. “What? ”
John just blinked, a blank look on his features. “Sorry?”
Ava sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Blood means you don’t know what foreplay is, okay—"
“True,” Sara jumped in. “Sex shouldn’t hurt.”
Mona let out a small strangled noise. “It shouldn’t?”
Sara sighed, a twinge of sadness showing on her features. “No, Mona, it shouldn’t,” she said, her tone softer. “No matter how big they are, or even if it’s your first time.”
“I didn’t know that,” Mona replied, looking almost dazed as she stared off into nothing. John waved an experimental hand in front of her after a long moment—no response.
The now-dressed warlock threw his hands up. “Well, congrats, love—you broke Mona."
“Can it, Constantine,” Ava snapped.
“Make me, Sharpie.”
“You—"
“You guys should stop before Mom puts you both in timeout,” Nate advised, even as they both turned to glower at him.
“Or grounds you,” Ray added with a visible shudder.
The pair of blondes looked indignant but obeyed nonetheless, everyone falling silent as they turned to watch a very peeved Sara count slowly to three in her head, nostrils flaring. “Okay, look—we need to move on. But starting next week, I’m implementing sex education class on the Waverider,” she quickly silenced Charlie’s resounding groan with an ice-cold glare. "It’s not up for discussion. Understood?”
No one argued, just nodded their heads in sync until Sara was satisfied she’d gotten a signal of agreement from everyone in the room.
“Great,” she said exhaustedly, letting out another deep sigh, relaxing incrementally as Ava wordlessly rubbed a soothing hand up and down her back. “Now, let’s just listen to Ray’s girl problem, shall we?”
“So Nora’s on her p-period… "
⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥ ⌥