Archive of Our Own ^beta

Klee’s laughter should have told her something, but really, Lisa paid it no mind. Klee was a giggly child, she found the biggest joys in the smallest of things. So no, it didn’t seem out of place at all that Klee was laughing rather manically to herself (Jean called it her future supervillain laugh and Lisa always gave her a short look) while they were all checking over the bags and ensuring they had packed everything.

“Mine, yours, Fischl’s two bags, Razor’s knapsack because for some reason he doesn’t like proper luggage, Klee’s, extra space for everyone, rain boots, coats… two umbrellas…” Jean was counting off on her fingers, poking and prodding at the trunk of the car as she went while Fischl was already seated in the back, complaining loudly and Razor was skulking by the door to the house.

And of course… Klee’s laughter, though the child herself was not immediately visible. Lisa was tossing her flats into the passenger seat footwell, already barefoot as she paced back up the driveway to retrieve the bag of snacks and extra headphones and crossword puzzles that she would need for the drive. The children had their own things, their gameboys and books and… whatever Klee was doing hidden by the hood of the car. 

The hood was propped open because Jean insisted on checking the dipstick and filling the washer fluid, I would hate to have to stop for something so preventable, she had said, giving Lisa a look that absolutely meant remember that one time your car broke down because you have never, not once in your life, taken it in for an oil change?

Lisa frequently ignored looks like that from Jean, though.

Jean… Lisa sighed and looked back at her wife, wearing her ball cap and checking over the things she had in her fanny pack. She looked absolutely foolish, and Lisa lost a little bit of respect for herself because all she wanted to do was drag Jean back inside and throw her down on their bed. It was embarrassing how attractive she found dad-mode Jean Gunnhildr to be.

(Fischl had coined the term for Jean, dad-mode, meant entirely as an insult but Jean quickly took pride in it and made sure to clip on her fanny pack every time she was due to take Fischl anywhere in public. Fischl had learned to be more clever with her insults after that.)

“My love, you have water bottles for everyone and lemonade for Klee, right?” Jean looked from her fanny pack, zipping it shut with a loud flourish before she adjusted her cap and waited for Lisa’s response.

“In the front seat with me, yes.” Lisa affirmed. 

“Great, and we’ve given Razor his dramamine?” 

“Mm, no.” Lisa frowned. That was what she was forgetting. 

“Ah.” Jean winced. And Lisa winced. And well… not a great start. “Guys, listen up!” Jean called out to gather the attention of their various spawn. “We’ll be making pit stops for Razor in case he gets sick. You will stay buckled in your seats. Fish, you’ve got to sit in the middle, alright?”

A loud ugggh resounded from the backseat of the car and Lisa peered through the open door to watch Fischl slide into the middle, Klee’s booster seat just next to her. 

“You all insert yourselves into my trip and this is how I’m treated!” Fischl complained, waving her hand in annoyance. A very Jean gesture, in Lisa’s opinion. 

“She gets that from you.” Jean said, joining Lisa for a moment to kiss her cheek and point to their eldest child. 

“She does not!” Lisa exclaimed, her hand already lifting in objection before she caught herself and huffed. Oh, Fischl got it all from her, didn’t she?

Jean was already laughing as she rounded the car, as if she could read Lisa’s mind. “Klee! What do you think you’re doing, come on now, we’re about ready to leave.” Jean scooped Klee into her arms and tossed her onto her shoulder, carrying her like a little giggling sack of potatoes as she closed the hood of the car, freshly filled washer fluid ensuring they wouldn’t have to stop for that, at least. (They would for a plethora of other reasons.)

Lisa smiled tenderly at the sight, years old but still so very precious to her.

“Are we all ready, buckled up back there, comfortable?” Jean rattled off, glancing around and peeking over her shoulder to check on the kids in the back seat. Lisa had the map sitting on her thighs, her elbow on the center armrest console, her fingers teasing along Jean’s shoulder.

There was always that one last checkover, to ensure they had all the things they needed and their front door was locked and they weren’t about to forget something egregious like Razor's allergy meds or someone’s underwear.

Once Jean was satisfied, she reversed out of their driveway, Klee waving and calling goodbye to their empty house, and then they were off.

Off to Sumeru, an entire family trip to the far off nation so Fischl could visit the Sumeru Akademiya, Lisa’s alma mater. Lisa had been rather delighted to hear that Fischl was interested, she was certainly smart enough, and she thought it would be nice to see some old friends, and then one thing led to another and here they all were. A family road trip.

Fischl had been less than pleased, but Lisa waved her off. It’ll be fun! Lisa had insisted.

And nice to get in another trip before Fischl left them… Lisa frowned and placed her feet on the dashboard, tucking the map into the little well on the bottom of her door.

“Lisa… really?” Jean sighed in exasperation, and Lisa shrugged.

“I need to be comfortable for long drives.” She hummed, ignoring Jean’s incredulous look her way. Jean always drove, and Lisa thought it was due to a lot of things. Lisa didn’t like driving, she wasn’t particularly… good at it, and Jean was a control freak. So Lisa never had to bother with taking a shift, and Jean typically got out of the car at their destination with cramps in her calves and doing mildly obscene stretches until she had feeling back in her ass.

It always made Lisa laugh, and she had offered to drive once upon a time but Jean had turned that down enough for her to stay quiet.

Jean’s own fault, really.

Jean simply sighed again and Lisa’s laughter trilled through the car easily as they took off down the road, Jean quite intent on making good time, as she always liked to say. Something about road trips always got Jean checking her watch more than usual.

Lisa didn’t care, so much. Sure, it wasn’t a thrill to be jammed into one car with Jean and their three remarkably unruly children, but… it was family time. Lisa enjoyed that well enough.

“Ugggh…” 

“Mother!”

“Oh gods Jean pull over!”

Chaos. It wasn’t unusual for the Gunnhildr-Minci family, but when in such a confined space like a car, it was amplified. 

Razor was curled into a ball, mumbling and moaning, while Fischl tried to jam herself as close as possible to Klee in her booster seat, who was giggling. Because of course she was. 

Jean glanced every which way as they pulled across one lane of traffic and then onto the gravely side of the road, braking quickly and putting the car into park. 

Lisa jumped from the car and pulled Razor’s door open, helping him from the car and immediately into a bent over position as he threw up most of his breakfast into the grass beside them. Lisa held his hair and rubbed his back soothingly. 

“Oh sweetie, I’m sorry.” Lisa winced. They had given him his dramamine while on the road but… it looks like he just brought it back up. 

Razor groaned sadly, hunched over and letting it pass as Jean leaned over the center console to hand a water bottle toward Lisa.

She took it and uncapped it, offering it to Razor as he stood upright. He swished quickly and spit before taking a few smaller sips.

“Better?” Lisa grimaced, pushing his wild hair back from his face as he nodded sadly. She helped him back into the car and gave him the water bottle, slowly getting back into the front as Jean checked him over.

“Alright, let’s get going. Just… keep looking out the window, Razor.” Jean winced and patted his knee gently, then they were off once more, Jean easing back into traffic on the highway.

Passing into Liyue was quite nice, and Klee cheered once Lisa read the sign aloud. Fischl was absorbed into whatever book-on-tape she was listening to, small headphones propped on her pulled back hair, and Razor… well, he looked rough.

They’d already pulled over three times for him to be sick on the side of the road, at which point he was no longer really able to bring anything back up and thus he sat, huddled against the door with a couple of plastic bags in his lap. Lisa sighed and reached back to squeeze his knee gently.

“Do you need more water, sweetie?” She asked him gently, and he simply shook his head sadly.

Poor kid. Lisa never knew where he got the motion-sickness from.

She stretched her back out and looked at Jean, brows furrowed and a little curl to her top lip as she was peering at the road signs they passed.

“Do you need me to check the map, dear?” She offered quietly, knowing what Jean’s answer would be regardless.

“Of course not, I know where we are. I’m just making sure I don’t miss the exit.” Jean waved her off easily, a quick smile shot her way, and Lisa hummed.

“Sure, darling. Well, if no one needs me, I’ll be napping.” 

Jean laughed and reached over to pat her thigh softly.

“Goodnight, mommy!” Klee called adorably, and with that, Lisa closed her eyes and nestled her pullover against the door to rest on.

And… Lisa did not get to nap long before they were rumbling over onto a gravel-lined side of the highway in familiar fashion, Jean covering her curses with words like fudge and shiftin’ car…

Lisa sat up and blinked, noting that the steam coming from the front of their car was… not great.

“Oh, hun… what’s that?” Lisa mumbled, covering her yawn as she looked over at a very irritated Jean who simply smiled tightly.

“Haven’t a clue… I’ll check.” She spoke stiltedly which told Lisa that she was this close to losing it (in a controlled manner, though. It was Jean.) Lisa huffed and leaned back against her seat for a moment, just a moment more of peace before-

“What’s going on? Why have we stopped?”

“I don’t need to be sick, mum.”

“I have to pee!”

“Mother!”

Thankfully, Jean had already stepped from the car to prop the hood open and was, quite hopefully, deaf to the complaints. Lisa turned around and faced her three children, each in varying degrees of distress.

“Something’s going on with the car but your mom is checking. Now… who needs to pee? Because it’s going to be in those trees there.” She nodded toward the little cropping of trees and Fischl made the most disgusted face, Lisa was actually proud of her.

“Me!” Klee continued to wave her little hand and Lisa sighed.

“Alright, come on sweetie.” Lisa pulled her shoes on, finally, and stepped from the car with a heavy stretch. Klee was adept at undoing her own buckle and she climbed over Fischl and then Razor (definitely elbowed him somewhere painful, judging by the sicker look on his face) and jumped from the car easily. She fluttered on ahead and Lisa followed slowly, keeping her in eyesight so close to a major road, faintly hearing Jean’s grumbling.

Oh boy.

Klee took her time, hopping about, and Lisa waited patiently, glancing back and forth between Klee and Jean, wondering which one was going to give her more trouble.

Judging by the way Jean had squatted down with her head in her hands… her wife.

“Almost done?” Lisa called, and Klee said something in whatever made up language she had been going on about lately before skipping back toward Lisa with a nod.

“Just rinse your hands with water when we’re back at the car.”

And back they went, slowly, Lisa creeping up toward Jean and gauging her irritation levels. Quite high, truthfully.

“Hi, love.” Lisa whispered, once Klee had crawled back into the car.

“Hm.” Jean grumbled, head still firmly plastered to her hands.

“What’s going on?” Lisa bent over and rubbed Jean’s back slowly, gentle circles over her shoulder blades.

“You can look, it’s obvious.”

Lisa stood and peered into the hood of the car… ah. It was obvious. Lisa sucked her teeth for a moment, bit her bottom lip, and slid her fingers through Jean’s ponytail.

“Thank you.” She whispered, bent down to kiss Jean’s head, and then made her way to the back door of the car to speak with Klee.

“Klee, sweetheart. Did you pack your Lion-Rumi stuffy?” Lisa asked sweetly, hand digging into the seat she was leaning over.

Klee nodded surely. “Yes!”

“And where did you pack it?”

“The car.” Klee told her plainly.

“Yes… Klee, did you stuff it in the hood?” Lisa asked flatly.

Klee nodded, blank look on her little face.

“Okay. Can you tell me why?”

“To make sure he came with us, and that Fischl didn’t throw him out of the window.” Klee said it so innocently that… it just made sense.

“The hood of the car is a very dangerous place for stuffies, Klee. I don’t…” Lisa’s eyes widened and she paused. The car… things have happened, and it needed fixing, sure, but Lisa realized that they no longer had Klee’s favorite stuffy. For what was surely going to be a very difficult rest of the day.

“Where’s Rumi lion?” Klee’s little eyes turned into wells and Fischl held back a snort, turning it into a cough as Lisa shot her a look.

“I think we’re going to… have to take Rumi lion to the little stuffy hospital, Klee. We won’t see him for a bit.” Lisa nodded slowly, “but he’ll be fine! In a week or two.”

“Mother… what has happened to our most valiant steed, this automobile?"

“We’re experiencing some difficulties, okay kids? Can you all just sit here, and not touch each other at all. If any one of you hits the other you will be grounded.” Lisa said sternly, closing the door behind her and taking a deep breath.

“Jean?” She asked faintly.

“Hm?” Jean grumbled once more.

“How bad?”

Jean finally stood and rounded the car, and though she had car gunk on her hands… Lisa hugged her and tucked her face against her neck.

“I think the battery is ruined, it’s leaking fluid. The stupid lion caught on fire.” Jean said glumly.

“Okay, that’s not horrible. We’ll… get a cab, get a hotel… get a tow truck, get a battery…” Lisa listed off and she knew this trip of theirs had gotten off to the worst possible start. Would it only get worse? She certainly hoped not.

“I don’t want to leave you all… we might be able to drive slow until we’re closer to a town?” Jean wondered, looking ahead of them and trying to find a sign that would let them know what they’re near.

“Do you think that’s safe?” Lisa asked with a frown.

Jean shrugged. “Sure…”

It wasn’t. The battery definitely wasn’t in great shape, but they drove, blinkers on, Jean on edge the entire way until she had to stop and walk the rest of the distance to a gas station with a phone.

Lisa did not want to wait in the car with all the kids, so Jean piggy-backed Klee, and Fischl and Razor walked, and they all made their way along as Jean led them down the side of the busy road. They stopped only briefly for Jean to head inside of a gas station and come out with directions.

“There’s an auto shop two more blocks.” She managed through Klee’s stranglehold on her neck.

“Klee, loose hold, honey.” Lisa reminded her, and Klee said ooh and loosened her grip and Jean flashed Lisa a grateful look. 

They continued on and Lisa wondered how they looked traipsing along the side of the road with three children. Probably like horrid parents. She rolled her eyes and kept her hand on Razor’s shoulder as he walked ahead of her.

It was just a few blocks, now in more bustling city streets than open highway, and Jean sighed in relief at the sight of the auto shop.

“Everyone inside, then!” Lisa instructed, though the kids were intent on following Jean anyway. The door chimed and Jean made her way right to the counter, letting Klee to the floor and shooing her along with Lisa.

Lisa chose to drag the children to the far side of the shop where a crummy TV played daytime channels and chairs with questionable stains were placed against the wall.

“Sit down and behave, please.” Lisa ordered, her kind but stern voice, the one that had long since been perfected.

She turned to watch Jean at the counter, her furrowed brow just about visible to Lisa. The words she shared with the employee were too quiet for Lisa to hear but… watching, she got the gist.

Lisa watched the way Jean let out a full body sigh, her conversation clearly not going well. Going worse by the second. She could see Jean’s frustration, how a situation entirely out of their control was boring into her psyche because she hated not having control.

Jean’s shoulders grew tighter and her hands joined the conversation, short gestures here and there. Jean was leaning even closer to the counter, looming above it and the employee on the other side.

Jean was getting frustrated on an already hectic and horrible day.

Lisa sighed and stood from her seat. “Fish, look after your brother and sister. I’ll be a moment.”

Fischl took the orders as any teenage girl would. She heaved a sigh and looked at her siblings with disdain. “And once more, the noblest of the stock is weighed down by the lesser. The eldest child, expected to simply eschew her own childhood and rear the young.” Fischl lamented, and honestly Lisa just had to roll her eyes at that but then Klee rolled her eyes to copy her and Lisa wondered if she and Jean had inadvertently ruined their children despite their best efforts.

“Fischl.” Lisa snapped then. She already felt a headache coming on. “Please.” 

Fischl pouted in the most accurate imitation of Jean that she had ever achieved and Lisa could only shake her head and turn on her heel. With her purse tight in hand, she left the auto shop quickly as the bell rang and the door clattered shut behind her. There was a payphone just next to the turn into the shop and Lisa rooted around for change and a little folded slip of paper that she had tucked into her purse, just in case.

With mora and the slip of paper in hand, Lisa closed her eyes for a moment. She caught her breath and assured herself that everything would be fine.

Dropping the coins into the machine, she dialed the number on the paper and half-hoped it would simply ring through and no one would answer.

But-

“Hello?”

Lisa winced.

“Hi, mom.”

A quick five minute conversation, an address, and Lisa hung up. Heavily. Her headache had certainly made itself at home by now. She needed a moment, but more than that, she needed to check on Jean and the kids. She gathered her things and crossed the drive, the smell of oil tickling her nose.

Lisa opened the door loudly and Jean turned, her argument paused, her frustration making way for confusion.

“How long will it take for the car?” Lisa stepped up next to Jean and addressed the employee.

Jean answered anyway. “He says at least three days to even look at it!” Jean exclaimed in annoyance.

“Fine. Get it done.” Lisa nodded and tugged Jean along with her toward the children and the ridiculously dramatized show they were watching. “Come here, Jean.”

Jean followed with a grumble. “Lisa, three days? That’s too-”

“I called my mother.” Lisa interrupted her, and Jean’s mouth shut quickly. Her entire countenance changed, all of her frustration and anger melted away and the overwhelming concern that replaced it was so obvious. It was the simplest thing, how Jean’s immediate reaction was for Lisa and Lisa alone, and it put her at ease, it made her smile come a little easier.

“Why? Are you alright?” Jean stepped closer and placed the tips of her fingers to Lisa’s elbow. She kept her voice low, so the kids wouldn’t hear.

“She emailed me a few weeks ago. She’s actually renting a house not too far from… here. She can pick us up, and we will have a place to stay for the night and figure out what we’re going to do.” Lisa explained gently.

Jean seemed entirely unmoved.

“We could have gotten a hotel, Lisa. We don’t need to-”

“Jean, you were moments away from yelling at that man who is simply doing his job. You’re stressed with this trip as it is. This is an easy solution and we can get the kids somewhere calm for the night.”

“I’d rather yell at that man than have you deal with your mother.” Jean grumbled, her eyes scanning Lisa’s face.

“And I would like them to fix our car. Thank you, but it’s done.” Lisa said pointedly.

Then she turned from Jean, because it was already said and finished, and addressed Fischl, Razor, and Klee.

“Kids… grandma is going to pick us up soon, so let’s be on our best behavior!” Lisa did her best attempt at a cheer and, unsurprisingly, Fischl and Razor saw right through her.

“Why?” Fischl frowned. Razor said nothing, though he looked endlessly suspicious.

“All the way from Mondstadt?” Klee asked so innocently.

“No Klee, other grandma.” Razor said shortly.

Klee frowned though.

“Who?”

And Lisa struggled to remember if her mother had even bothered coming to visit after Klee was born.

With their car arriving into the lot and the kids all lined up out front, Lisa kept her eyes on the road. Of course, she had no idea what kind of car her mother drove here, but she was anxious. Even Jean’s hand firm against her lower back did nothing to calm her like it should have.

“Let’s go grab our bags, team. And get your mom’s, too.” Jean corralled the kids to the car as it was lowered from the lift. She paused to kiss Lisa’s cheek and brush strands of hair back from her face before following the children.

Lisa was… upset. This was supposed to be fun. One last chaotic family trip before Fischl chose her college, before things changed forever. And now… her mood was already wrecked, Fischl was sure to be irritable with the delay, Klee was going to ask simple questions that shouldn’t be so difficult to answer and Razor… he was fine. He was good. Thank the gods for Razor.

And Jean was going to shoulder the parenting for herself and Lisa and burn herself out in hopes of giving Lisa as much peace as possible.

She hated this. She had honestly thought that she was well past letting her mother ruin her life, and yet, here she was, nearly forty-four years old and dreading her mother’s face.

Even Jean could pull herself together long enough to get through a monthly dinner with Frederica. Though, Frederica had seemed to soften in her old age. (Not for Jean, though. Just the kids, but it made it easier. It gave way for light conversations on grades and achievements and sports instead of the usual questioning of Jean’s life choices).

Giulia Minci was not like Frederica in any way, though. Lisa had known warmth and love, she had a doting mother, once upon a time. Until she didn’t, and Giulia had said you’re old enough to be on your own now, I’ll be in Natlan for two weeks. Call Alice if you need anything.

Lisa was eight.

She had felt so proud at the time, too. Like she was so mature and her mother trusted her.

She had been foolish, obviously.

Giulia Minci never wanted to be a mother, and it became so obvious as Lisa grew up.

To be so unwanted by your own mother… it made the increasingly rare reunions stiff and hateful.

And Lisa winced when a car pulled in, stopped in front of her, and her mother stepped from the driver’s seat.

“Hello, Lisa! It’s wonderful to see you again!” Giulia cheered, and Lisa braced herself with a tight smile.

Getting to her mother’s house was a glimpse into the future that Lisa ignored. She had pushed aside her negative thoughts, her pessimism born out of familiarity with her mother’s behavior, and tried to be open-minded. But stuffing all of the kids and their bags and then themselves into the car had been near-impossible and should have been the sign, glaring and bright, that said abandon hope, all ye who enter! It should have been where Lisa said never mind, let’s get a hotel, but she didn’t.

She thought that maybe, after all of these years and without burden or responsibility, her mother might surprise her. She hoped, anyway.

“Klee, do not crush the flowers!” Lisa called in her stern-mom voice within moments of everyone falling from the car like fish spilling from a tipped barrel. Lisa had been stuffed onto Jean’s lap in the passenger seat while the kids took up the rear, and the bags more than overfilled the trunk.

Because it took Lisa so long to detangle from Jean and not fall on her face, and because Klee was becoming a little too smart for her own good, she had already vacated her booster seat and followed Fischl and Razor from the car and into the well-maintained lawn of the home Lisa’s mother was renting.

“They’re just flowers, Lisa.” Her mother laughed dismissively and waved the children to the front door. “Who wants to help me make sticky buns?” Giulia called, watching Klee light up while Razor tried to hide his interest.

Jean was already at the trunk, mechanically pulling out bag after bag while Fischl lingered between the car and the front door. Lisa sighed and rounded the car for Jean.

“Do you think she’ll let me take the car when she inevitably tells me to go get all of the ingredients she doesn’t have?” Lisa asked dryly, slumping toward Jean and falling into her arms as soon as they opened to welcome her.

“Maybe she has a bike. On the bright side, it’ll get you out of the house longer.” Jean murmured against Lisa’s hair, rubbing soothing circles over her back.

“And leave you with the kids and her for too long? I wouldn’t dare.”

“We both know your mother is going to disappear as soon as they start and one of us will be making those sticky buns anyway.” Jean grumbled.

“Mothers? Do you require assistance?” Fischl stood nearer to them, her familiar green eyes narrowed as she surveyed the scene.

“Yes please. Take yours and your sister’s bags inside.” Jean ordered gently, dropping a kiss to Lisa’s hair again before bending to offer the bags over. Before Fischl could even take two steps to the front door, it opened and Giulia stood there squinting toward the car.

“Lisa? Could you run to the store? We need sugar, cinnamon, and walnuts. It’s only a fifteen minute walk!” She bellowed.

Lisa grit her teeth and looked at Jean. A lovely sympathetic smile and soft blue eyes greeted her and she let out a measured breath.

“Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone.” Lisa said with an eye roll. Jean winced and offered over her wallet without another word.

Sticky buns had been made, the children had inhaled them and become absolute messes along with ruining their appetite for dinner, and as predicted, Giulia had disappeared into her home office just as Klee had been getting excited to make something and Jean had taken over the effort.

It was evening and Klee had ingested far too much sugar, her tiny body wired as she ran around the house to chase the cat that Giulia ostensibly had.

The cat that she doted over and gave chin scratches to.

Lisa rolled her eyes and didn’t bother hiding it.

Jean cleared her throat from somewhere behind the couch that Lisa was slumped on, and then she had Jean’s arms wrapping around her shoulders from behind and lips against her ear.

“Why don’t you head to bed? I’ll wrestle the kids into the kitchen for a sandwich and get them settled, hm?” Jean whispered. Her hands were soft and loose, tracing gentle patterns into Lisa’s shoulders.

Lisa’s mother was making intermittent trips between the living room and her office while Razor was glued to the tv and Fischl looked like a little version of Lisa, all curled up in a chair with a thick book in her lap.

“Jean, you don’t have to handle everything.” Lisa said quietly, but it was laced with a sigh and wasn’t just about everything she’d said since calling her mother?

“Go relax, Lisa. We’ll be fine, I’ll take care of bed time.”

Lisa’s eyes slipped closed with the tenderness of Jean’s voice. She leaned back into the comfort of her arms and sighed once more, but one of relief and satisfaction. One that slipped out with the ease of Jean’s love.

“Thank you, Jean, but don’t push yourself just because of me. I’ll be fine.” Lisa whispered imploringly. She was beyond lucky to have someone like Jean in her life, so observant and knowing in the ways that Lisa handled things, but Lisa knew how Jean handled things too. It was far too easy for her to take on too much.

“Taking care of our children is hardly pushing myself. Taking care of you is hardly pushing myself. In fact…” Jean’s arms left her and Lisa whined at the sudden lack of comfort, but Jean was rounding the couch, smiling down at her with too much excitement. “Doing this, isn’t even pushing myself.” And she bent forward and scooped Lisa into her arms to a shrill of Lisa’s laughter.

“Jean!” She cried out as Jean’s hands landed ticklishly under her knees, hoisting her up with a grunt and another, very accomplished grin.

“Come now. Bed time for my lovely wife.” Jean said in a triumph, carrying Lisa through the living room, passing by Fischl who watched them with a thinly veiled smile. Lisa settled into Jean’s arms once again, wrapping her arms around Jean’s shoulders and nuzzling into her neck for a moment of wonderful reprieve. 

“So Fischl, Sumeru! How incredible would it be to go there? You know, I was so proud of Lisa when she attended, but I wasn’t surprised, either. She was always so brilliant.” Giulia waxed poetic for a moment while they were all seated at the dinner table, their first full day with Lisa’s mother having passed by without much fanfare.

Lisa gritted her teeth at the topic, but Fischl nodded enthusiastically.

“Of course it’s a wonderful institution, but one does have to wonder if it really does live up to the praise it garners. I’m sure I could achieve a similar education closer to home, but nevertheless, I am excited to tour the campus.” Fischl rattled off and nodded her head this way and that, so very enthusiastic whenever she spoke, and Jean shook her head humorously.

“And the best part is that it’s so far away from home!” Giulia laughed. Lisa felt her stomach turn, the grilled fish Jean had put so much effort into suddenly seeming so unappetizing. “Lisa practically ran away from me at the first chance she got.”

She could see Jean clenching her fork out of the corner of her eye, her smile turning tight and practiced. 

“I bet you’re all chomping at the bit to get going, hm? Right, Klee? You just can’t wait to get away from home for once?” Giulia continued, entirely oblivious to the tension she was creating.

Lisa cleared her throat but Klee giggled a little bit, stabbing aggressively at some fish.

“I love my moms.” She answered so innocently, not even bothering to look up from her plate. Lisa’s heart melted just the slightest. That was what mattered, she reminded herself. Klee, Fischl, Razor. How they saw Lisa, how they saw Jean and their whole family and that they were happy. So Lisa wasn’t happy with her own mother, so things hadn’t turned out so well. That was okay, as long as she had her own family.

“Oh, you’re sweet.” Giulia cooed. “And you’re… five, was that it?”

“Seven, mother.” Lisa cut in, watching Klee’s little face scrunch in distaste.

“Seven… what an age.” Giulia seemed almost wistful and Lisa clenched her hand so tightly. Like you would even know? But she didn’t say that. Not in front of her children.

Jean cleared her throat and addressed Fischl, clearly adhering to a time-honored method of posing questions to parents that they didn’t quite want to speak directly to. “Why don’t you tell her the other schools you’ve toured?”

“Mondstadt University, naturally. Imunlaukr College, though I doubt I will actually be attending that one. Windrise University, as well, and perhaps I might like to visit something in Liyue. It is very pretty here.” Fischl listed off methodically.

“Sure, but Sumeru, Fischl. I know you might think you have reservations right now but when you see it, you will be sold.” Giulia was so very sure of herself. So very sure of pushing Fischl in the direction of as far away as possible. Lisa tilted her head and realized the very thought of Fischl heading off to Sumeru, actually going there for her university years and even possibly… liking it enough to stay after graduation… oh that hurt so very deeply.

Lisa had fled at the first chance she got, leaving Mondstadt, a home that seemed so unwelcoming, and she had found something in Sumeru but it certainly didn’t fill the void she had grown up with.

Did Fischl feel the same way? Did Fischl look forward to getting away from them, from Jean and Lisa and her siblings? They were chaos personified on a good day, yes, but Lisa thought their home had been so filled with love…

Oh, shit, here come the tears. Lisa stood swiftly and excused herself with a quick wave at a very startled Jean.

“I’ll be a moment.” She hurried to say, through a tight voice, a constricted throat, through tears that welled in her eyes.

Oh gods, she thought, pushing through the back sliding door and heading out into the backyard. Have we come so far only to see that we failed our children just as our parents failed us? Lisa’s hands were trembling and her breaths were hardly controlled, shaky and stilted as she tried not to have a full-blown panic attack.

She walked along the manicured grass of the backyard, a service likely paid for, and found a small pagoda with trellis vines creeping up the sides. Lisa sucked in breaths, trying to even everything out. Trying to ignore the sudden dread that had absolutely filled her entire being.

She had been a happy child up to a point. A point when she realized her family had not been like others. And no, that wasn’t always bad. But she hadn’t realized that being home alone so constantly did not mean she was trusted and mature, it meant her mother had better things to do. Always in another nation, always pursuing her own interests.

There was something to be proud of in there, for her mother. For continuing on with her hobbies and career, still focusing on herself despite having a child. But surely… so many mothers have found the balancing point. A way to be both a mother and a person with interests and things to do. 

Lisa had met that balance, hadn’t she? She doted on the children, she loved them and all their quirks and eccentricities, she did not push them or expect the world of them. But she continued on in the library, with her own personal research. Things took longer than they used to, but that came with having new responsibilities. 

Her kids and their various issues were more important than most things. Klee’s school calling about a fall she took on the playground; Razor's grades slipping in math; Fischl’s conflicts with classmates. Those were not things that took her away from what she enjoyed; those were things that she needed and wanted to attend to because they involved her children. Lisa worried about each and every one of them day in and day out, she would never go a day without feeling worry and fear for them.

She knew her mother did not feel that same way. But, did that make a difference? Where her mother had been so distant, was Lisa so smothering? Had she been deluding herself for so very long, thinking she was an exceptional mother?

Well, no. She never once thought she was good at this. Being a mother was hard work. It was grating and terrifying, it was effort personified, it was so very rewarding, though.

Did her mother never see that?

Lisa felt the tears coming on full-force then, and she wondered why now, why it still hurt her to know that she had not been enough for her mother. Who could walk away from their child with such ease?

“Lisa?”

She turned and sniffled, trying to hastily wipe away the evidence of her breakdown but it was Jean; Jean would always see through her.

“Come here.” Jean joined her in the pagoda, arms welcoming, and if that wasn’t Lisa’s favorite place to be when she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. She slid into Jean’s arms and gripped her fiercely, sniffling and willing her tear and shaking body to stop.

“Do you think we’ve fucked up?” She whispered into Jean’s shoulder.

“No, of course not, Lisa.” Jean answered immediately, sure in her answer and words. Her arms wrapped tighter around Lisa, swaying her gently in the breeze that wafted through the pagoda.

“What if I turn out just like her?” She whimpered then, and it was so hard to figure out what was the more terrifying prospect.

Jean pulled back, her face the picture of a frown, and she shook her head softly. “What?”

“What if I suddenly look up and realize that I don’t want this?” Lisa cried, her tears flowing down her cheeks. Her vision blurred and Jean was little more than a gentle look and golden hair.

“Lisa… have you ever thought that before? Have you ever second-guessed me or the kids?” Jean asked so very quietly, so gentle and encouraging and not an ounce of accusation.

Lisa heaved a breath and tried her hardest to speak through her shakiness. “I… I was so scared that I wasn’t going to be good enough. I was afraid I wasn’t ready…”

“But you are, to both. You are good enough, Lisa. You are more than good enough. Neither of us was ready for Fischl, but you're the one that made me so sure we would be alright, and she turned out… mostly normal.” Jean shrugged with an attempt at levity, but her smile was crooked and charming and it was at the expense of Fischl who was probably not even their strangest child so Lisa let out a watery laugh despite the heaviness she still felt. "You make this family what it is, Lisa. You are so fiercely loved by every one of us, and if you do not realize that now, then I’m not doing my job.”

“No, it’s not you!” Lisa hurried to say, and she sniffled and rubbed her hands over Jean’s sides.

“I know, I understand. It’s being here, it’s her. Still, if you ever have to question it, that means I don’t tell you enough how much you mean to us all. To me, because I would not be who I am, not even a fraction, if it weren’t for you.” The gentle insistence of Jean’s voice, the way her eyes were so beautifully expressive and once again, Jean did so very much to settle her.

Lisa’s smile wavered and tears still dripped from her lashes, but she nodded as Jean’s hand cupped her cheek gently. A thumb wiped tears away, and Jean’s eyes never left hers.

“I’m worried.” Lisa admitted. “I’m worried that I’m pushing them out the door, that they won’t come back. That they don’t need us. I’m worried that I’m not good enough for them because I don’t do the field trips and the sports, Jean, and what if my expectations are too high? I’m so worried.”

“I’m not.” Jean said tenderly. “I’m not worried about our children, and I’m not worried about us. Because you, Lisa, have forever been my most patient supporter. You have trusted me to make the right decisions and you have trusted me with this beautiful family that we have together. And more than that, you are the most amazing mother to our children because you are so patient with them. I was never graced with patience… and look how I turned out.” Jean laughed softly, something hollow. “You’re loving and gentle, and firm when you need to be. You care, Lisa, and you are nothing like your mother, because you make our home what it is. It is vibrant and full of life and love, it is full of noise and music and passion, and each one of our children has gotten those things from you. Klee talks constantly, she sings all the time, all of your favorite songs. Razor, we both know he got that sullen look from me but he has your passion for learning. And Fischl… I’m not sure she’s ours.”

Lisa burst into teary laughter, overwhelmed with Jean’s words, with her startling speech, but she still took the opportunity to admonish her for picking on Fischl once again. “Leave her alone…” Lisa managed through her watery smile.

Jean’s grin softened and she tilted her head. “Fischl looks up to you in every way possible, Lisa, and I don’t think you even realize that. Our children will always love us, and if they don’t come home to visit, then it’s only because we’ve prepared them for life so very well.”

She always knew Jean should have been some type of motivational speaker or something like that, because the way she cherry-picked Lisa’s concerns and had an example to soothe each one was otherworldly.

It made Lisa cry harder, emotions filling her but finally mingling with a happiness from Jean’s words. She was pulled back into Jean’s arms, hands soothing over her back and kisses pressed to her ear and hair and cheek.

She clutched at Jean’s back, hands scrunching up in her soft t-shirt. “Thank you.” Lisa murmured, and her voice was muffled but she was no longer shaking and hurting. Jean, wonderful and supportive as always, arms tight and holding her up in more ways than one.

“Of course.” She whispered back. One hand carded through Lisa’s hair in gentle strokes. “Where would we possibly be without you, Lisa? Probably stuck on the side of the road, car impounded, because I’ve pissed off the auto shop employee.”

Lisa snorted and dropped her head back as her laughter bubbled out of her. “You are probably correct.” She agreed, and leaned back enough to place her hands on Jean’s cheeks. “Again, Jean, thank you. I love you so dearly.”

“And I love you. Now, would you like to head in? I doubt Klee is still seated.” Jean asked gently and once again, assisted in wiping tears from Lisa’s cheeks with her thumbs and peppered kisses.

“Let’s.” Lisa agreed, her voice a bit lower from the tears and the emotions, but she managed a tender smile for Jean who so easily earned it, and let Jean take her hand to head back inside.

As wonderful as Jean was, as helpful as her words were in settling some of Lisa’s deepest fears, her mother was still a bit of an issue. One that was admittedly unresolved, despite the many years it had been.

For instance, as the day wound down and everyone turned to a quiet evening activity, reading or television or, in Jean’s case, pouring over the map and outlining their projected route to Sumeru in several different colored markers, Lisa realized Klee was not around.

She stood from the couch, smiling at the way Fischl was utterly enthralled by a book of her own recommendation, and went about looking for her youngest spawn. She passed by Jean, kneeling on the floor with her map spread all over the coffee table, dropping a kiss to her hair that smelled of sunshine, and then passed Razor with his coloring book filled with intricate animal and nature scenes as he meticulously and properly colored the page.

Lisa heard sounds, quiet and clanking, coming from the kitchen and she almost ignored it. Almost passed by in search of Klee, hoping she wouldn’t have to be alone with her mother for even a moment too long. But she stepped inside, and gasped at the sight.

“Klee! You do not play with the stove, what are you doing?” She hurried to turn the knobs off, watching the flames flicker out as Klee looked up at her with wide eyes.

“Grandma said I could make something if I was still hungry.” Klee said quietly, wilting under Lisa’s heavy tone. 

“No, grandma is not in charge. You do not touch the stove without me or your mother, do you understand?” Lisa asked intently, and it was probably a bit much because Klee didn’t know she was doing something wrong, but she was livid. Klee nodded quickly and Lisa placed a hand on her shoulder. “Go sit with your mother, okay?”

Klee hurried off and Lisa took a deep breath, clenched her hands tightly for a moment, and then breathed out slowly. She left the kitchen, intent on going to her mother’s office.

“Klee is seven! She cannot use the stove alone! What were you thinking?” Lisa exploded the second she stepped inside, the second she spotted her mother's face, too loud and too angry even for the situation. Calm minds always prevailed but ooh, this was a long time coming.

Her mother merely laughed. Lisa’s concerns were something to brush off, mother knows best.  

“You were making your own meals at that age!” She laughed. She waved her hand about. She absolutely did not see the problem. Lisa soured even more. 

“Because I had to! However, I have no intention of leaving my children alone like you did, so Klee has no need to use it. Especially alone!”

“Oh Lisa…” Giulia tutted. She had a way of making Lisa feel so trivial. So... unworthy of any effort.

“No. You know what? I am proud of the mother that I have become. I’m happy that you got to fulfill your dreams and that you didn’t let motherhood derail that, but I did not become who I am now because of you.” She unloaded a bit there, didn’t she? Quite suddenly, but it was the years of built up frustrations and angers and… sadness, finally creeping out.

“Well, you weren’t exactly an easy child yourself.” Giulia rolled her eyes. Not unkindly, she rarely did things out of spite or malice, but she really had a way of trivializing everything. A way of saying you’re overreacting without ever saying the words. 

“You think any of my children are easy? You think Fischl is easy? She calls me birthgiver in public. Razor? He growls at his teachers. And Klee… shoved her plushie inside of the car engine and here we are. So no, surprise! Children are not easy. But I love them anyway! I love them more than I could have ever imagined loving someone else, and I can’t stand going more than a day without any of them.” Lisa ranted, frustrations and annoyance boiling over into… realizations. She was so unlike her mother, wasn’t she? Jean was right in many ways, and finally, Lisa felt it. Lisa felt it, because in that moment, all she wanted was to be surrounded by her children, and have Jean at her side. That was where she was happiest.

“I… Lisa-“ She didn’t know what to say in response. Her mother was, for once, at a loss for words. 

“I’m not asking for anything. I am simply done with feeling inadequate and not good enough. I want you to know these things, and know that everything I am as a mother is everything I wished you were. That’s it. Goodnight.”

And Lisa turned on her heel and left, and she didn’t so much feel like crying, then. She felt lighter. She knew that was needed, and it would likely serve to sour their ties even further, possibly even sever them, but it was needed.  

She joined her family back within the living room, Klee currently huddled underneath a rather confused Jean’s arm, doodling on their road map with a pen. Lisa looked at Jean, managed a lopsided smile at her, and sat down next to Razor to run her hand through his perpetually chaotic hair.

Lisa woke to a not-so-empty bed, but one noticeably absent of her wife. It was early still, and while Jean always was an early riser, she typically tried to stay in bed a bit longer when they went on trips. Klee was a starfish shape in the middle of the bed, preferring to take up the little space Jean and Lisa had in the guest bed rather than sleeping in a nest of blankets on the floor like Razor.

(Fischl had demanded the couch. They could grant that of her, after everything.)

But, Jean was no longer in bed, which pulled a sigh from Lisa. What could she possibly be up to? Maybe an early morning run, she was a bit of a masochist like that, Lisa supposed. Annoyingly, she sometimes had difficulty sleeping without Jean, something about her weight and breathing settling the bed just right. Add in the strangeness of an unfamiliar room, Klee’s kicking feet… she gave up and stood from the bed with a hearty yawn.

Lisa stepped around Razor’s floor nest carefully and slipped from the guest room. She was heading for the bathroom, ready, albeit begrudgingly, to start her day, but she heard laughter that warmed her heart so she followed it to the kitchen.

The sight warmed her heart even further. Familiar, though less frequent these days, Fischl stood at the stove with pancakes frying in a pan, Jean behind her and working to braid her unruly morning hair.

“Ugh, mother, very heavy-handed of you, I would say.” Fischl groaned and shrugged against Jean’s hands tugging at her hair and Lisa’s smile grew unbidden.

“Yes, yes, I’m terrible. You’re welcome to go wake your mom.” Jean suggested in a voice that held endless humor.

Lisa sighed and stepped into the kitchen. “No need, I’m up.” They both spun, Jean’s smile bright and excited as Fischl batted her hands away. “I couldn’t sleep through Klee’s kicking.”

Jean gestured wildly for one brief moment and Lisa made a face, eyebrows high as she glanced at Fischl to subtly point out the resemblance, but Jean forged on. “I think she punched me in the kidney. It was quite painful. Anyway, I have good news.”

Lisa joined them at the stove and kissed Jean chastely before taking up the vacated spot behind Fischl, undoing the mess Jean had started. It was no wonder Razor’s hair was perpetually messy; Klee’s hair kept around shoulder-length; hair was always Lisa’s job.

“Go on.”

Jean cleared her throat, shot a quick eyebrow wiggle at Fischl, and leaned back against the counter just beside them to grin. “I’ve called seven different rental places... we have a car! Razor will have to be packed into the trunk but other than that, it’s perfect!”

Fischl laughed in the way that meant she was trying not to but Jean’s rare foolishness pulled it out anyway.

“Jean.” Lisa intoned though, used to her wife’s admittedly charming antics.

“Joking.” She hummed. “It will fit all of us and our things. We can get it later today and then get back to our trip and just pick our car up on the way back.”

Lisa focused on Fischl’s hair, thick and golden strands wrapping around her fingers as she wove them beneath another section. That sounded an awful lot like admitting defeat, fleeing her mother’s presence and all that that meant.

“Because, Lisa, this is Fischl’s trip.” Jean said gently, as if reading her mind. “I love you, and I appreciate that you’re pushing through, but this is for Fish. We may as well just keep going.”

Fischl tensed slightly, but she glanced over her shoulder and she looked so very curious. Lisa sighed in defeat. It sounded like a lot of mora to spend on top of the car repair (and somehow finding a new, limited edition Rumi-Lion plushie for Klee) but…

“You’re right. I’m sorry, sweetie.” She kissed Fischl on the side of her head, thankful she hadn’t grown so tall, not like Razor seemed to be in the middle of doing. “I’ll get the other two up and we can start packing if you two can promise pancakes soon?”

“Of course! I am proficient at this method of sustenance.” Fischl answered gleefully, flipping the pancakes before her as if on cue.

Lisa pulled Fischl’s hair into a lazy braid and stepped away a bit, Jean following.

“We’ll say thank you and goodbye to your mother, see her in another five or six years, and move on.” Jean murmured, pressing her lips against Lisa’s temple and simply lingering there.

“I know. You’re right. Thank you for finding a car for us.” Lisa whispered. Jean’s hand settled on her waist, firm and comforting, thumb rubbing gentle circles into her hip.

“Ahehem.” The loud and obnoxious throat-clearing from Fischl pulled them apart and Lisa rolled her eyes at the annoyance all over their daughter’s face.

Jean, in a fit of adorableness that had Lisa giggling as she left the kitchen, stuck her tongue out so very childishly.

It took time, of course. All morning, in fact, for Jean to head out in a cab and find the rental place to pick up their car for the rest of the trip. Then to return and go through the rituals of packing up again, and then finally rallying the children out of the home and getting everyone onto the lawn to set off and continue their journey.

Lisa watched Jean triple-check everything, staunchly refusing to touch the hood this time even though Klee had no stuffy to hide away. Fischl was helping to place Klee’s booster seat and Lisa stood beside her mother, silent and stiff.

She cleared her throat and turned to her, feeling the overwhelming discomfort that settled between them ever since Lisa had said what she did.

“Well…” She started, pausing, chewing on her lip for a moment.

Giulia smiled sadly and gestured for a hug, a question. Lisa obliged, a loose embrace with her mother.

“It was very nice to see you and your family.” She said, and her words felt meaningful. Because Lisa’s family was so very separate from her.

“Thank you for helping us, mom. Maybe we can stop by for dinner when we come back through.” Lisa offered, because what was the alternative? Exactly what Jean had said, letting the years slip by before accidentally getting in touch again.

“I would enjoy that. You’ll have to let me know what the kids like and I can prepare a little better.” 

She was generous in her offer and Lisa, despite the stalemate they had come to, suspected it was mostly empty words, but at least the sentiment was there.

“Of course. How long do you plan on staying here?” Lisa asked. Trying to prolong a conversation that felt so very final?

“I’m not sure. You know me… following my many whims.” Giulia shrugged. Lisa felt bad, felt like she should have continued on biting her tongue because they so rarely ever saw each other anyway. But she knew she was lighter because of it.

“Alright. Well, keep in touch at least. We’ll see you soon.” Lisa nodded, and they both stepped nearer to the car as Jean slammed the trunk shut. They went through the rounds of hugs, first Jean and then the children as Giulia bent forward to hug Klee last.

“And it was so very nice meeting you. Have a safe trip now, everyone.” She stood and Lisa climbed into the car with one last hug, settling into her seat as the children followed. Jean checked everyone for seatbelts and then they were off. Just like that, Lisa’s mother left behind.

It was a rare moment of quiet, to have everyone in the car and no one willing to voice anything just yet. Lisa closed her eyes and sighed.

“Mum?” Fischl asked quietly. The way she said it, Lisa wasn’t sure which of them she was calling for, but she turned to look and so did Jean, briefly, for just a moment. (She always grumbled about those scenes in movies where the driver took their eyes off of the road for way too long. It’s unrealistic! Who would ever do such a thing! And Lisa would remind her that plenty of people were fools.)

“Yes?” Lisa asked, smiling at Fischl who seemed sorrowful. Sorrowful… because her trip had been ruined, hadn’t it? “Oh, Fish. I’m sorry, baby. I know this has been a mess and you could have taken the train… on your own.” Lisa sighed at the thought.

“It’s not that. I would love to go to Sumeru, and I really want you to be proud of me. But… what if I choose somewhere in Mondstadt? To be closer?”

Lisa’s eyes widened and she felt her heart break in so many ways. Here she was, trying her best to let Fischl be free, to have the world open before her, and she had entirely forgotten to let her know that it was still her choice. Her choice of where to end up, and should that be closer to home, well…

“Fischl, we’d be proud of you even if you stay in your room all day playing that weird computer game you like so much.” Jean answered quickly, fluid and smooth like she’d practiced for such a question.

“I would like to go to school.” Fischl grumbled, and Lisa laughed lightly and wiped at the tears that had somehow gathered in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Fischl. I’ve been so preoccupied this trip. It wasn’t… easy to see my mother.” Lisa admitted quietly, reaching out to squeeze Fischl’s knee. She twisted around in her seat further, to face Fischl as best she could. “You can choose any university you like, Fischl, and I will always be proud of you. Would I be absolutely thrilled if you choose to stay closer to home? Of course. But I also want you to know that you can choose to go anywhere and you will always be welcomed back to us.”

Fischl looked down sheepishly, but Lisa saw her smile. Relief, a hint of embarrassment. It was just right.

“Okay. I still want to see Sumeru, though.” She mumbled.

“We’re going to Sumeru whether you all like it or not.” Jean declared. They had sunk far too much time into this trip to abandon it, of course. Lisa saw the flinch in Jean’s hand and she reached out to stroke her forearm.

“We all want to go to Sumeru, dear. Thank you for driving us, as always.” Lisa soothed her and looked back at the kids, stuffed in a line in the backseat, little Klee in her booster seat playing with a fork… for some reason, Fischl with a book in hand though she hadn’t opened it yet, and Razor.

Oh gods.

“I do not feel… good.” He grumbled, his face twisted into a grimace as he hunched forward in his seat.

Jean and Lisa cursed quietly. They forgot his dramamine once again.

The sun was low and they were so very close to Sumeru. After a quick stop for dinner, the kids were quiet in the back, and Lisa peeked to check, quite pleased to see they were all sleeping.

“Mm, we’re close.” Lisa sighed, settling back into her seat and reaching out to squeeze Jean’s thigh.

“Yes? Is it bringing back memories?” Jean smiled toward her quickly, one hand firm on the steering wheel and the other one curling over Lisa’s.

“Oh yeah. Just up here, there was a billboard advertising nude ladies for the longest time.” Lisa laughed quietly. She pointed ahead along the flat stretch of road as they drove through the rocky plains of Liyue.

“Nude ladies, ah! And where were they?” Jean asked casually.

Lisa smirked. “Why would you possibly need to know that, wife?”

Jean scoffed and shot her a quick look. “Oh come now, you know I could never appreciate another woman more than you.”

“Mm.” Lisa side-eyed her, teasing and light, before moving on to something that had been pressing her thoughts for some time. “Jean… do you think Razor might be gay?”

Jean sputtered so loudly that Lisa checked over her shoulder to make sure the kids hadn’t woken, only some slight stirring from Klee but that was common.

“What? Why- do you?”

“Well… he and Bennett are so close…” Lisa shrugged. She tilted her head and leaned her elbow on the door of the car.

“They’re best friends, Lisa.”

“Sure. For now. We should talk with him soon, though. He may come to a point where he’s questioning things and we can make sure he knows that’s okay.”

“He has two mothers.” Jean deadpanned, and Lisa knew that came from Jean’s own upbringing. Why talk about things when you could just… not?

“Jean…” Lisa said pointedly. “It’s nice to discuss things before they become issues.”

Jean’s eyes widened, not in surprise, but simply in concession and she nodded slowly. “You’re right. Let me know how that conversation goes.”

Lisa laughed, and stifled it into a snort which made Jean positively gleeful. “Ass.” She smacked Jean’s thigh and leaned back against her headrest.

Lisa had thrown a pickle at Jean's face. She hadn't been aiming for Jean's face but she wasn't overly talented in the art of throwing things so that's kind of where it ended up, but it had Jean staring at her with wide, affronted eyes as a small pickle seed clung to her cheek. Right where she'd been hit. By the pickle slice that Lisa threw at her.

"Why would you do that?" Jean whimpered, so obviously bewildered more than anything.

"I am nine months pregnant, Jean. Do not come in here, at one in the morning, worrying about if we're ready for this baby or not!" Lisa exclaimed. Throughout her pregnancy, she had been hormonal, they both knew that. Jean was wildly gracious in accepting some of the less than kind things Lisa would say, and she would forever be grateful for that. But this time? Tear welling in her eyes and saying things like what if we're not ready, what if we screw up so badly, what if I turn out just like my mother? No, Lisa couldn't allow that. She simply couldn't.

"We have nothing to go on, Lisa. We have... a guidebook on what not to do. Aren't you... aren't you terrified?" Jean asked so quietly, and Lisa slid her opened jar of pickle spears away and stood, slowly, with great effort, from her seat at the kitchen island.

"Of course I am, darling. But I have you, and anything we do, we do as a team. I trust you, I know we'll be okay." Lisa probably wasn't waddling but every step she took felt like that anyway, and she made her way to Jean, to gently wipe away the remnants of pickle juice that dotted her face and gather her hand tightly. "We have a very thorough book on what not to do, and I think that's a lovely start."

Jean smiled faintly, her eyes closing as Lisa caressed her cheek.  She definitely still had pickle juice on her fingers, she realized, and winced a bit.

Lisa continued, pecking Jean's lips quickly. "Another start? We are going to love this child with everything that we have. Even if we're not perfect, even if we make mistakes, our child will know so much love."

Jean softened like an entire weight had been lifted from her shoulders, the tight lines of her face eased and her smile turned graceful. "Yes, she will." Jean nodded, and very subtly lifted a napkin from the counter to clean Lisa's fingers and then wipe her own face. Lisa laughed through the slight rifling of emotions that began to hit her. Nine months along, her due date so very near... their nursery half-finished. None of that quite mattered though, because she had Jean, and Jean had her, and they made a wonderful team.

"It's pickles!" Lisa mumbled under her breath, startling from her dream. Her memory of so long ago. So long ago, when she and Jean had been fumbling their way through her first pregnancy and everything they did felt like a momentous step and they wouldn't know for a long time to come if it was in the right direction or not.

Jean snorted, not common of her, and side-eyed Lisa. "Are you... sleep-talking?"

Lisa yawned and stretched and let out a tiny little noise of comfort before shaking her head. "No, I've figured it out. Do you remember how I didn't eat pickles when I was pregnant with Klee?"

"Oh!" Jean exclaimed and Lisa immediately knew she had far too much to say. "You mean how when you were pregnant with our first two you became a ravenous monster sometime around midnight and the only snack that sated you was pickles, so then when you were pregnant with Klee, I had stocked up on far too many pickles of varying qualities and slices and flavors, only for you to suddenly decide that pickles were no longer your snack of choice? Yes, I seem to recall that. Only vaguely though, really." Jean shrugged after her little rant and Lisa rolled her eyes obviously, choosing to lean even closer to Jean over the center console and get right up next to her, bobbing her head with the movement just to really emphasize it all.

"Anyway." Lisa clicked her tongue. "Perhaps not eating pickles is why Klee is... you know." She wiggled her fingers toward the back where Klee was, with a quick check, still sleeping.

"No, I don't know, Lisa. What is she?"

Lisa stared at Jean, Jean's gleeful little smile, her raised eyebrows. It was a conversation they'd had many times. Klee. Arguably the oddest of their little bunch and they weren't really sure why. She was talkative where Razor was nearly silent, outgoing where Fischl preferred her corners and shadows and took so very long to open up. Entirely spontaneous in everything she did where Jean was organized months in advance. Lisa wondered if she had given some strange, latent tendencies to Klee, some of her childhood habits that maybe she'd forgotten. But Jean liked to joke that Klee was switched in the hospital and wasn't actually theirs, which had Lisa scoffing and shushing her every time. She never agreed with Jean; insisted that Klee was perfectly normal and fit in with the Gunnhildr-Minci chaos quite well.

Except, now she had a theory.

"Fine, Jean. Do I sometimes wonder if she's really ours? Yes, I do." Lisa rolled her eyes half-heartedly while Jean laughed gleefully and oh of course they didn't mean it. Klee was their darling little firecracker, a sweet bundle of joy with a propensity for chaos. Each of their kids seemed so very strange with their odd habits and personalities, and Lisa wasn't even sure if she felt that Klee took the title for oddest. Maybe it was like picking a favorite, she really couldn't. They were each an odd-ball in their own unique way. "I'm just saying, I ate pickles while pregnant with two of the three... I really do wonder where some of that comes from, though. Not you, that's for sure." 

"Ouch. You're right of course, but I'm offended anyway." Jean sniffed, and Lisa laughed loudly. Perhaps they should have been a bit pickier with their donor for Klee...

"Mommy? Are you... not my mom?" Klee's tiny little voice barely cut over the radio and Lisa gasped, spinning in her seat to see Klee with an almost-comical frown on her face, her little eyes shining with tears. Jean glanced back only briefly but the horror on her face was obvious.

"Oh, Klee! Honey, no, no, no! No, that's not what I meant! Oh sweetie, we're both your moms, I promise!" Lisa hurried, hand shooting out for Klee's knee, trying to comfort her in any way possible.

"But... am I not from you?" Klee whimpered again, and Lisa paused.

"You are, Klee. I'm your mother just as much as Lisa is." Jean promised, always so sincere in her words. She tried to glance at Klee through the rearview mirror and offer her a kind smile.

"Then why did you say Mommy was right?" Klee asked.

Klee hardly ever went more than a few seconds without making noise. Why, why, Lisa screamed in her own mind, had she chosen that moment to sit silently in her booster seat and simply listen to their conversation.

"Klee..." Lisa started. And then stopped. Did they really want to get into this, right now? Lisa sure didn't. Judging by the still lingering hints of horror in Jean's eyes, she didn't either. "You're just so different, it surprises us! Like how fun you are, when your mom is so stuffy and boring, right?" Lisa scrunched her nose and made a face, tilting her head toward Jean.

Klee giggled a little bit, a little sniffly, and her eyes were still glassy, but her frown had disappeared.

"Because mommy always remembers everything and I always forget things?" Klee tacked on, attempting to join in, oh so adorably, on the teasing.

"Exactly! You'd walk out of the house without your shoes if it wasn't for your mommy, right?' Lisa agreed, enthusiastic and doting.

"Well... that sounds like a you thing, actually." Jean pointed out to Lisa, and then toward her feet which, since they had been in the car for hours, were bare. "It's our differences that make us so unique, Klee! And you have plenty from the rest of us, but that makes you extra special to us, okay?" Jean said, a hopeful smile on her face and Lisa stifled her giggle at the words but watched Klee settle down quite a bit.

She nodded with a soft little smile and her tears seemed to dissipate. "Okay, mommy. Or do I call you Jean?" Klee crunched her face up in confusion as Lisa burst out laughing and Jean shouted a very quick no!

Lisa was humming along to the radio, finally catching a signal as they neared Sumeru City. It was late, dark, the road lit by the glow of plants and flowers bunched along the way. They’d been chatting in a way that was so familiar, comfortable and soothing, while the kids continued to sleep.

“I’m afraid that Klee is behind in school.” Jean said, turning the radio just a bit lower, checking her mirrors despite being the only ones on the road at that very moment.

“What? She’s reading above grade level.” Lisa pointed out.

“You’re a librarian, Lisa. It’d be embarrassing if she wasn’t reading above her level. Her math is atrocious though.” Jean explained, eyebrows knitting together.

Lisa pursed her lips, thinking back to each of the other kids. “She’s seven. It’s adding. She’ll catch up.” Razor struggled with math too, but he ended up right on track with some time.

“She should get a tutor.” Jean insisted, but gently. 

Lisa shrugged. A tutor wouldn’t hurt, and if it helped make Jean feel better… “I can ask Mona.”

“Agh…” Jean grumbled lowly, making Lisa laugh once more.

“She’s a great babysitter!” She pointed out, while Jean shot a side-eye at her.

“Sure, but she has awfully steep prices, Lisa.”

Lisa twisted her lips. “She just graduated college, Jean.” She had been the one to initially hire Mona a few years back, someone who gelled so easily with Razor and Klee and knew well enough to let Fischl do her own thing.

“What about Sucrose?” Jean asked instead, an admittedly not terrible suggestion as Sucrose was a genius. However… Lisa couldn’t imagine her figuring out how to translate her smarts to something Klee would understand.

“We can talk about it when school starts up again, perhaps. We don’t even know what she’s learning next year.” Lisa said.

“You’d think we would know the curriculum by now.” Jean laughed.

“I’m not convinced it doesn’t change every year.” Lisa sighed, and she placed her hand firmly on Jean’s thigh to watch her. Face focused, a slight furrow in her brows, her hat long-gone as night had fallen, Jean glanced over toward her for just a moment to flash a quick smile and Lisa knew there would never be a day where that smile didn’t soothe her very soul.