Work Text:
[Beep]
Mi querida arañita…
No sé dónde estás, o dónde estarás. No sé si crecerás hablando, soñando en inglés o español o chino o cualquier otro idioma.
Pero tu mamá speaks English—she always butchered Spanish—so, at least, I think you'll know it, too.
I'm leaving you this message because...I want you to know you are loved.
But I'm not sure if this recording is for you, really. You might not ever hear it. It might be more for me. I just wanted to remember this moment.
When I read your mother's letter, a bolt of happiness shot through me. I was angry and lost and sad but the first thing I felt was pure joy. For you.
But then I felt rage.
I punched the wall. Several times. I'm currently wrapping my bloody knuckles—your mom used to do this for me.
Your mom...I am pissed at her for disappearing without saying goodbye. For not having the cojones to tell me about you in person.
And I'm mad at Morales for screwing things up.
Mad at myself for screwing things up.
Mad at the world for always needing fixing.
Every universe...every timeline...is unfair. Fuck. Canon is so unfair.
Because no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, it seems like my daughters get taken from me...
That's right–you had a big sister, and I bet she would have loved to meet you.
Anyways, I just wanted you to know that tu papá loves you—will always love you—even if I never meet you, and even if a future me–or a different me–decides to come after you, to hurt you.
The me, the Miguel, right now, in this moment, is so happy to be your dad.
[Beep]