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It’s been two months, and Lana can’t bring herself to take AJ to see Archer.
She can barely stand the sight of him anymore- the tubes cocooning him, the devices keeping him alive (barely), the shrill beeps of the heart monitor that seem to follow Lana even when the device is on quiet mode, Malory’s occasional sniffles. She can’t take it. The asshole went and got himself shot. And now he’s lying in a hospital bed, and Lana can’t take their child to see her father, and she can’t look at him without a wave of nausea rolling over her. Even thinking about him, adrift in a sea of sterile white sheets, makes her stomach churn.
Ever since she’d stepped foot into ISIS, she’d had an iron stomach, except when she was pregnant. And now the thought of one person makes her want to throw up. It’s kind of funny. Or at least Archer would find it funny. The asshole.
She pulls out her wallet, listening to the shrieks and giggles of toddlers all around her, as she waits for her shrieking, giggling toddler to finish putting away her blocks. The second she’d returned home on that fateful night, paid the babysitter for overtime, and checked on AJ, she’d withdrawn her kid from Country Day and enrolled her in a local preschool. She was hell-bent on making sure she didn’t make any of Malory’s mistakes- the ones that had landed Archer in a hospital bed. She’d started crying halfway through the call to AJ’s new school, as the realization that it was up to her to parent AJ hit her. And then she’d shattered every bottle of booze in the house, because of course Archer’d had alcohol in his blood when he was shot. And not two minutes later, she’d called Ray over so he could bring her tequila and she could have a breakdown in the living room.
She pushes the painful memories down, down into the place where she pushes nearly every emotion- by now, it’s a cesspool of insecurity and envy and anxiety that all bleeds out to her surface, expressing itself in bitchiness and rage and a tendency to shoot things.
“AJ’s almost done, Ms. Kane,” Debra, one of the teachers, says, with a warm smile.
“Thanks, Debra. Love the new locs, by the way,” Lana adds.
Debra smiles wider and touches her hair. “Thank you! And you’re still rocking that weave,” she says. Lana’s given up on denying it- except to her coworkers, of course- so she smiles and thanks the other woman.
What had she pulled out her wallet for, anyways?
Oh, right, she thinks as her gaze falls on the photo tucked in there, of the ISIS staff all at AJ’s second birthday party. When Lana and Archer were still- well, Lana and Archer.
Her attention wanders as she thinks back to that day a month ago where Krieger had found her, passed out in her office with eyeliner smeared on her cheeks, and woken her up to give her the tape of Archer’s speech to Katya, almost a year before. Krieger’d explained what happened, and Lana had punched him, and punched Cyril and Ray and Pam too (she couldn’t find Cheryl). Then she’d returned to her office and watched the tape. She got as far as “And then to realize that you might actually be in love with your best friend, who also happens to be the mother of your child… that’s, like, a miracle.” She’d smashed the tape with a hammer after that.
Lana looks back down at the photograph. Cheryl lurks in the back, Cyril sulking with her. Krieger is holding up a little bitty robot teddy bear, which Lana had been skeptical of at first, but AJ loves it, so… Pam had been holding a tiny spoonful of cake to AJ’s face, and Malory obviously hadn’t seen it, because she’s looking surprisingly un-harpylike, standing at Archer’s shoulder. Archer and Lana are both holding AJ, who has cake smeared all over her face, and holding hands. Lana misses the warmth in his eyes.
She thumbs past that photo to the next one- the one that she barely allows herself to look at, lest nausea choke her, worse than it had when she was pregnant. It’s one of those stupid photobooth strips- Archer had insisted on doing something “like regular goddamn people, Lana, let’s try to be boring for once.” The two of them have an 18-month AJ snuggled in between them, and in the first one, both Lana and Archer had looked a little weirded out. In the second once, AJ had been making a face, and both of them had caught sight of it. They’d been grinning like idiots. Or like teenagers. One and the same , Lana thinks, moving on to the third photo. In that one, Lana remembers- she’d caught sight of Archer’s blinding grin, almost boyish in all its joy and amazement, and she’d been amazed. She’s not often amazed with Archer- amazed with his stupidity, perhaps- but that had gone straight to her heart. And in the fourth picture, she’d grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled him in for a kiss. Lana thinks back to that day, to Archer’s slightly dazed expression as he asked, “What was that for?”
She hadn’t given him an answer, since she could feel that AJ had just shat her diaper.
“Mama, what’s that?” AJ lisps in her tiny little voice. Lana can feel herself choking up a little. Just a little. She hadn’t even heard her kid sneak up on her. This would be where Archer would say “she’s a better spy than you,” but Archer’s not here, is he?
“It’s some photos of us and Daddy,” Lana says, scooping AJ up after waving goodbye to the teachers. “See that baby in the middle?”
“Yeah!”
“That’s you!”
“Really?” AJ asks, although it sounds more like “Weawwy?”
“Yeah, baby! It’s you!”
AJ points to Archer as Lana fumbles with the car keys. “That’s papa?”
And now Lana is choked up a lot. “Yeah, babygirl, that’s papa.”
“Mama, when are we gon’ go see Papa?” AJ asks, as Lana buckles her into the car seat. “I wanna see Papa!”
Lana stops in her tracks. She thinks about Archer, alone, with only his drunk, demonic mother for company. She thinks about AJ, who’s probably forgotten Archer’s voice by now- God, that’s terrifying. Bite the bullet, girl, she can hear Ray say. “Are you sure?” she asks AJ. “It might be scary, baby, because Papa’s connected to a lot of machines.” For some goddamn reason, AJ has inherited Archer’s fear of machines, Krieger’s robot shit notwithstanding. She honestly thinks that Archer has shown AJ Skynet or something. It’s totally something he’d do, the asshole.
“I wanna see Papa!” AJ repeats.
Lana takes a breath. Bite the bullet, Kane. “You wanna go right now?”
“Yeah!”
“Okay, baby, let’s go,” she says. She slides into the front seat and starts the car, her hands shaking a little. Idiot. You can barely handle seeing him, how is a literal child gonna deal with it? And Malory’s gonna be there, probably drunk, probably mean… AJ hasn’t seen Malory like that in a while. And the last time she saw Archer, he didn’t look like a dead guy. She slams on the breaks at a red light that she almost missed. He’s not dead. “Sorry, baby,” she winces.
“Issokay, Mama,” AJ says.
Don’tcrydon’tcrydon’tcry . “Thanks, kiddo.” The light turns green again, and she drives, almost on autopilot, the rest of the way to the hospital, as AJ sings songs to herself. Lana usually talks endlessly with AJ, the only part of her day where she can get up the energy to be bubbly or animated, but today she can’t. “AJ, are you sure that you want to see Papa?” she asks again.
“I do, mama, I do!” AJ says, kicking her little legs against the carseat.
“All right, let's go, kiddo.” Lana walks around to the back of the car and unbuckles AJ. She lifts her daughter into her arms and walks into the hospital. Both she and AJ wrinkle their noses at the smell of bleach. “Doesn't smell great, does it?” Lana asks, tickling AJ’s belly.
“Nuh-uh,” AJ replies, giggling. Lana smiles at the sight of her daughter’s crinkled grin, but it doesn't erase the pit in her stomach. She hurries to get their badges, hoping she can get in before Malory turns into a drunk hell-bitch (as opposed to just a regular hell-bitch).
She'd have AJ walk, but she can't seem to stop to put her down. Lana’s already long strides grow faster, and soon she's practically running. The hospital staff, probably used to people rushing around, don't even notice her. They've probably seen too many widows and half-orphaned kids. Not that she's Archer's widow- she's not Archer's anything, as he'd made so abundantly clear in the waterboarding incident. Asshole. And he’s not fucking dead.
Said asshole comes into view as Lana approaches the open door of his room. She draws in a sharp breath, as she always does when she sees him for the first time in a while. Beside her, she hears AJ take an identical breath. “Mama, issat Papa?”
“Yeah, baby, that's Papa.” God. She hasn't been here in almost three weeks, and Archer has deteriorated. His cheeks are sunken, and the dark circles under his eyes are much more prominent. Jesus, he looks almost like he has cancer again.
Malory is passed out- thank God- half on a chair, half on Archer's bed, an empty bottle of absinthe clutched in her talons. AJ, usually a veritable chatterbox, says nothing as Lana pushes Malory upright into her chair. “You wanna talk to Papa?” Lana asks. AJ nods, and Lana tells her, “He won't talk back, though, okay? He's still sleeping. His body has to fix itself.”
AJ nods again, and Lana sets her down on Archer's bed. Despite her best efforts, a tiny flame of hope rises within her. Come on, Archer. Your kid needs you. AJ launches into a detailed retelling of her day, sparing no detail, and Lana crosses her fingers.
Nothing happens. AJ keeps on talking. The machines keep on humming. Malory keeps on sleeping.
Lana sags into the chair beside Malory. Fatigue pulls at her bones, settling deep inside her heart. She hasn't slept properly ever since Archer- well. Landed up here.
AJ yawns. “Mama, I’m sleepy,” she announces.
“You wanna take a nap, kiddo?” Lana says. She doesn’t want to leave, but AJ does seem pretty worn out.
“Yeah,” AJ says. She yawns again- she yawns exactly like her dad, the over-exaggerated movement, the arm-swinging, everything, it’s just so Archer it makes Lana’s heart hurt. AJ digs herself a little nest under Archer’s covers, burrowing into Archer’s side. Lana wasn’t really intending for that, but she’s relieved- she can’t bring herself to leave this early.
AJ starts snoring almost instantly, in tune with Malory’s drunken, heavy exhales. Lana’s surprised that the staff let Malory bring in any alcohol, let alone absinthe. Then again, this is Malory. She probably bribed the nurses and threatened them if they didn’t cooperate, Lana thinks. Classic her .
A wave of longing sweeps over her. She’s really not the type to get attached. She doesn’t even know why she’s crying- oh shit, I’m crying- over someone like Archer. Cheating, lying, manipulative bastard. “You prick,” Lana laughs through her tears.
…
Archer is arguing with Lana, her emerald eyes blazing in anger, when she says, “You prick.” It’s not an uncommon phrase, but her voice- choked, laughing- is at complete odds with her outraged face.
“What?” Archer asks.
“I said , you can’t be bothered to look after- you know what? I’m sick of this. You obviously don’t care about the spaceship, why the hell did you fight so hard for it in the divorce?” Lana yells.
“ Divorce?” Archer says, the words hitting him like a truck. He’s never been married to Lana. “When the shit were we married ?”
Lana draws back as if he’d slapped her, the rage in her eyes being tempered by hurt. Without a sound- which in itself is strange enough- she turns on her heel and practically sprints away from him, short-cropped curls bouncing.
Wait. Since when does Lana have curly hair?
“That was cruel ,” a disembodied voice that sounds exactly like Mother says. “I mean, even for me, Sterling.”
“Wha- are you telling me that Lana and I were actually married?” Archer asks. His tone is indignant, but he can’t help but wonder what it would be like. He’s broken up more marriages than he can count, but there’s something in him that tells him he couldn’t risk a divorce with Lana. I mean, her laugh- her ass- alone.
“Are you cracking up? How do you forget a marriage that lasted nearly thirteen years?” the voice asks.
“Wait, then why did we divorce?” Archer asks.
“Do I have to call Krieger?”
“No! Just- why? I must be hungover,” he says, in his lamest attempt at a lie ever.
The voice seems to buy it, even though her voice is laden with suspicion when she says, “You got waterboarded and said that you might love- oh, who was it- yes, Veronica Deane, that Milky Way Theatre actress. So Lana, in one of her little fits, declared a break. And then she walked in on you screwing the broad on your thirteenth wedding anniversary, and she called for a divorce.”
Now that sounds familiar- although what the Milky Way Theatre is, he doesn’t know. For Christ’s sake, I faked the waterboarding confession to piss her off. She was the one going apeshit over Ellis Crane. And she should know torture only gives the captors what they want to hear. God . And Archer’d never admit it to anyone, especially not- well, anyone- but he’d only screwed Deane because he- well, he missed Lana. God. “So why did I fight so hard for this hunk o’ junk?” Archer asks, looking around. It’s a pretty beat-up spaceship.
“I’ve got no clue why , but this ship is practically your baby,” the voice says. It’s eerie how much it sounds like Mother.
“Uh… okay, I’m gonna go sleep off this insane hangover,” he says, still lying without an ounce of heart in it, “so where would I find my room?”
The voice sounds like she’s exceedingly tired of Archer’s shit when she says, “Down the hall, first door on the left.”
Archer follows the directions to find a quite humble room- wooden bed with white linen bedding, bookshelves crammed full of hardbacks, two oak doors leading elsewhere, and a holographic screen floating on one wall. The simplicity isn’t quite his style, although he does appreciate the bookshelves. He falls flat on the bed, quite honestly wondering if he’s concussed. His head hits something hard under his pillow. God. Now I probably do have a concussion. He sits up again and fishes around under the sheets, and he pulls out a framed photo strip, like those old ones that they have on Earth. The first photo is one of him and Lana, holding a baby- their baby, he realizes, spotting Lana’s distinct features on the kid- and looking not-so-comfy. The second one, the kid’s pulling a face, and he and Lana are looking down at her with huge grins. In the third one, Lana’s beaming at him- God, he misses Lana looking like that, looking happy- and in the fourth one, Lana has him by the back of the head, and she’s kissing him.
He can feel himself tearing up a little- what the fuck. In an attempt to deflect, he thinks, Must’ve been a damn good photobooth to get all that without fucking up. It doesn’t really work- the moisture at the corners of his eyes remains.
“Get up, Archer, stop being a douchebag,” Lana says. He looks at the door, but it’s still closed. “Come on.” It seems to be coming from all around him. “Wake up.”
“I am awake,” Archer says, his throat suddenly bone-dry. “What the hell-” He opens his eyes- weren’t they open literally two seconds ago?- and sees something that is definitely not his spaceship. There’s something poking into his side, and someone’s gripping his hand with the intensity of Krieger’s Chokebot. Must be Lana.
He hears a sharp intake of breath next to him. “Archer?” Lana says, tightening her already-vicelike grip.
“Ow,” he rasps. He feels like he’s been hit by a truck. He turns his head to the side, and is greeted with the sight of a sleeping AJ, a passed-out Mother, and Lana. She’s grinning, but cautiously, as if the rug might be swept out from under her feet at any second.
“Are you awake?” Lana asks, shifting in her chair, leaning towards him.
“No- ow- no shit,” Archer replies, coughing. Lana hands him a cup of water with her free hand, and he downs it. “Although I wouldn’t be surprised if my hand is broken now,” he says.
“Shitass,” Lana says, but she loosens her grip. “Do you, uh…”
The memory of gunshots drift into his mind. “Ugh. That crazy bitch.” Lana’s face hardens at the mention of Veronica Deane- understandably, he thinks. She drops his hand. “Lana, I- I only did it to piss you off. And that- I shouldn’t have done it,” he says. “There was literally- Lana, look at me, literally- nothing that I felt for her. I mean, with the whole thing with the clowns and all-” Lana wrinkles her nose, and Archer feels a rush of affection for her- “she literally would not stop being a pussy. Like, Christ on sale, lady, get it together.” Lana snorts a little, and a tiny little flame of pride blossoms in Archer’s chest. “So… yeah, I shouldn’t have let it go that far.”
“Wow, is that the sound of Archer, being mature about something? I’m not sure that I’m not dreaming,” Lana snarks. She pinches herself, a little too hard to be joking. “No, yeah… I shouldn’t have let it go that far either. I mean, you were obviously the one who was the most wrong-” Archer rolls his eyes, but his smile stays glued on his face- “but yeah. I’m sorry too. Uh, Krieger showed me the tape of what happened with Katya, so… well, I believe you. But if you pull some shit like that again, I will literally- and I mean this- literally cut your Achilles tendons, and then AJ and I will leave you.”
Archer opens his mouth and shuts it again. Then- “Fair.”
Lana gazes at him, her eyes searching his face for a moment, and then she lunges at him. Her lips are a little chapped, his, infinitely more so, and Archer- he’d literally die before admitting it- melts a little. Wherever their mouths meet, fireworks explode, and his brain feels like it’s imploding.
Suddenly, Archer stills. His eyelids slide down, open just wide enough to see Lana’s reaction, and he falls backwards onto the bed. Lana freezes. “Archer?” she hedges, her voice suddenly devoid of all feelings. “Archer, are-” Tears gather in her eyes, but she stays frozen. “Archer!” she yells, emotion starting to bleed into her voice.
Out of the corner of his eye, Archer spots Mother, rising from her slumber. “Lana, shut up.” He can just barely make out her face shifting from irritation into something almost maternal as she says, worry in her voice, “Sterling? Lana, what-”
“You idiot, you can’t go, I love-”
Archer pops back up from the bed, grinning like a maniac. “Ooh, using the L-word-” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because Lana slaps him across the face. “Ow!”
“ Shitass,” Lana yells.
“Sterling Malory Archer-”
“I swear to God, Archer-”
“You pull a stunt like that again-”
“I can’t believe you-”
“Hey!” Archer interjects. Lana and Mother keep shouting. “Hey, idiots, you’re gonna wake up AJ!”
That shuts them up quick, although they each still look murderous. Normal day, then, Archer thinks with a touch of fondness- more so for Lana than his mother. “C’mon, that’s- well, hopefully- the only chance I’ll have to prank you like that,” he says. Lana screws her eyes shut, and for a second, Archer thinks she’s gonna slap him again, but when she opens them, they’re glassy again. Which- well, Archer doesn’t know how to respond to crying Lana. Angry Lana, he can do, but crying Lana? He’s useless, he can only make jokes, and that either-
Lana surprises him, pulling him into a hug, pressing her cheek to his. “If you make me think you’re dead ever again, you won’t live long enough to regret you were ever born,” she says.
Archer pulls back a little to gaze at her eyes. “From Monte Carlo,” he says, surprising himself with his memory. Well, it’s kind of hard to forget Ray rubbing his cock in Mother’s underwear, no matter how hard he tries to bleach the incident from his memory.
“Just making sure you remember,” Lana says.
“Oh, shove,” Mother says, elbowing Lana aside and giving Archer the once-over. “Let me get a look at my son. I can’t believe you didn’t wake me up.”
“Well, he was barely awake for five minutes before he pulled that bullshit,” Lana snaps back.
“Even still,” Mother replies. Archer pulls her in for a hug- it’s stiff, formal, but he can tell Mother was glad she didn’t have to initiate it. As they pull away, she smacks him in the back of the head.
“Ow!”
“Don’t you dare do something like that ever again.”
“Oh my God, Mother, let’s enjoy the moment.” Archer turns to look at his kid. God, she’s grown in the past few months. A rare apprehension fills his stomach as he looks at his daughter- his daughter, God, he’s never gonna get tired of that. “AJ?” he says. He doesn’t respond. For a second, melancholy twists up his insides- he forgot that AJ could sleep through a bomb. But he’s awake, and he remembers that he has a daughter, so it’s more trouble than it’s worth to be sad. He pokes her belly and tickles her, and soon, the room is filled with shrieks. “Hey, squirt,” he says, grinning.
“Papa?” AJ yells, nearly deafening Archer. “Papa, I thought you were sleeping!”
“Nah, kiddo, I’m done with that.”
“Oh, you’re not gonna sleep at all tonight,” Lana tells him, her face dead serious. Mother gags, but Archer pulls Lana in for a kiss.
“Ew!” AJ says, wrinkling her tiny little nose.
Archer pulls back. Lana has that oh-so-rare smile on her face, the one that means she won’t bitch for at least 24 hours. “Come on, let’s go home.” He starts to swing his legs out of the bed, when- “Goddamnit!”
“Goddamnit!” AJ repeats gleefully.
Lana doesn’t even bother correcting AJ- Archer can only guess how many languages the kid’ll be able to swear in by the time she’s an adult. “What?” Lana asks, sounding a little panicky.
“I forgot we lived in LA,” Archer says mournfully.