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The bedroom door slammed, making Eddie wince, and he started to stand up from the couch, but Buck's arm shot out in front of him and gently pushed him back down.
“Just...let’s take some time for all of us to cool down, OK? You go in now and he’s just going to start yelling again, and you’ll both say something you’ll regret.” He reasoned, and Eddie sighed. His husband was right, he knew he was, but the thought of his son being that mad at him was killing him. They’d never had this big an argument, not really. And he knew that part of that was the hormones surging through his son’s 12-year-old body. But that didn’t help right now.
“I know, I...I just thought he’d be happy.” Buck had been the one worried about Christopher’s reaction when they broke the news that Buck was pregnant. After all, everything had changed lately. Between the wedding and Buck finally moving in, all in the past six months, it had been a lot. And now to find out his parents were expecting another child...he could see why that wouldn’t be received well. Eddie, on the other hand, had been convinced that Christopher would love the idea of being a big brother, and was shocked when he yelled at them for being “irresponsible” and “too old for a baby”. That it “wasn’t fair” and “selfish” to do this. Then he’d stomped off to his room and slammed the door behind him.
“And I’m sure he will, just give him time.” Buck leaned in, resting his head on Eddie’s shoulder, and his hand on his small bump. At twelve weeks, he was starting to show now, and had been wearing slightly baggier clothes to try and hide it. Bobby knew, of course, because he’d had to contact HR through him, but no one else did. They’d planned a party this weekend to reveal the pregnancy to their friends and family, although Buck was convinced that Hen had figured it out. He had noticed over the past few weeks that she kept giving him strange looks, like she wanted to say something to him but didn’t. Also there had been some soft, knowing smiles, and small comments. Like when she was talking about their new foster daughter, she’d said “it’s nice to have a baby in the house, don’t you think, Eddie?” Eddie had choked on his water at that, glanced over at Buck and then answered that he couldn’t really comment as he wasn’t there when Christopher was an infant. Bobby had raised his eyebrows and given Buck a wink when no one was looking once Eddie had recovered.
Eddie rested his own hand on the bump too, and smiled when he felt the slight movement inside. His newly-discovered power, that he was connected to their baby by touch, had just gotten stronger as the days had gone on.
“Wish I could feel him too.” Buck muttered sadly, and Eddie pulled him in close, telling him that he would soon be able to feel little flutters and kicks. Just a few more weeks. Then, in a few months he’d be complaining that he couldn’t sleep because of the kicking. “Nah, that’ll never happen.” Buck laughed.
“I’ll remind you of that in five months.” Eddie promised, because, even though he hadn’t been through the whole pregnancy last time, he remembered that when he’d managed to video call Shannon while he was away, she always looked tired. Christopher had apparently thought he was part cat and liked to stretch out in extremely uncomfortable ways. But maybe this one wouldn’t be the same.
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Christopher slammed the door to his bedroom and threw himself on the bed in pure anger. How could they even think about having a baby at their age? They were ancient! And they were all happy about it, like it was the best thing to ever happen to their family. They were going to have the perfect baby getting all their attention. One that would grow up normal. Not having to rely on people to help him to do simple stuff when they were almost a teenager. Or having to go to physical therapy just so they could run around like the normal kids did. Or having to rely on those stupid fucking crutches all the time. He threw one across the room. The crash as it landed on the floor was strangely satisfying, so he threw the other one too. A better sound as it landed on top of the first. A metallic clunk.
He felt a little better already. Buck had told him about some rage room place that he’d gone to on a work night out once, just after that whole stupid lawsuit thing, when neither of them could see him for months. A place where you could just get a baseball bat and hit things. TVs, drinking glasses, tables, plates...At that moment, it sounded like a great idea. He couldn’t do it in his room, obviously, but he could at least throw things around. His dad would probably be mad if he did, but he really didn’t care. It was all his fault, anyway. Both their faults. They’d said that they didn’t know Buck was a carrier until it had happened, but his teacher in health class had told them exactly how important it was to get tested if you were gay or bisexual, just in case. How could he have not? That was totally irresponsible of him.
And his dad...he should have known that it would happen. He had this weird super power that meant he could see into the future. He wasn’t supposed to know about that, but he’d heard the family talking about it when he was meant to be asleep one night at bisabuela’s house. Everyone seemed to have some kind of power, and they had been wondering what one their kids would get, if they got one at all. Something to do with genetics and only being half-magical meant it wasn’t certain. And Christopher hadn’t developed one, so he figured he took after his mom.
His eyes darting around the room, he looked for things he could throw. The bookcase, that was a good start. Books didn’t break easily, so his dads couldn’t be that mad at him. And stuff like Lego and stationery, those could make a good noise. If only he could throw them without getting off his bed, just with his mind, like Matilda. Because he couldn’t be bothered getting back up, he’d gotten comfortable now.
A knock came from the door. “Are you OK in there?” Buck. The life-ruiner. Because this was going to ruin his life. The crying at night waking him up, then, when the baby was older, getting into his room, going through his stuff...wait, where was it going to sleep? Would they have to move? Or would he have to share his room? He didn’t like either choice. He liked his room the way it was, thank you very much.
“Go away!” He yelled back, and he listened as Buck sighed and walked away, footsteps getting quieter and quieter as he went. Two hushed voices that he couldn’t quite make out, but he heard his name being mentioned a few times. They could talk about him all they liked, he didn’t care.
Staring at a pencil on his desk, he scrunched up his nose and narrowed his eyes, willing it to move. It was a crazy idea, but, if he was to have powers like his dad and Tías and everyone else in his family, maybe he could choose what he got. And this would be a pretty cool one to have.
He stared at it for the longest time, maybe ten minutes, but it didn’t move. So much for that, then. Sitting up on the bed, he swung his legs around and looked over one last time, then let out a gasp as it started to levitate right in front of him. Using his eyes, he guided it to the other side of the room and blinked, letting it fall to the floor. Holy shit.
Maybe he was imagining it. But his brain told him he couldn’t be. The pencil was right over there, on the floor, and it had been on the desk the entire time. Maybe he was dreaming. He pinched himself hard on the arm and let out an “ow!” No, definitely not dreaming. He, Christopher Diaz, had moved a pencil without even touching it. Cool!
“I wonder what else...” He muttered to himself. Was it just small things he could do that with, or was it big things too? And if so, how big? Could he lift a car, for example, or just things that he could normally lift with his hands? Would he get stronger as he got older and practiced? Deciding that the best thing to do was to test his power out, he turned his attention to the bookshelf, willing the lightest books to fall to the floor first. When they did, with ease, he moved onto the slightly heavier paperbacks, then the hardbacks, and then the reference books. The heavier ones were harder to move, but he managed them without too much trouble. And the sound of them falling was fantastic, the dull thud of them on the carpet. Next, the Lego. The big tub was closed tight, but the smaller one on his desk open, and lighter. He stared at it, willing it to lift into the air, and, with a little more effort on his part, it did. It hovered there for a few seconds, then fell back onto the desk with a crash.
“Christopher, stop!” He hadn’t heard the door open, nor his dad come into the room until then, having been too caught up in trying out his newfound skills. Ignoring him, he turned his attention to the computer keyboard, just wanting to lift it up a little. Before it could rise even a centimetre, his dad hopped over the mess of books on the floor and stood in front of him, obscuring his view. “Mijo, stop now, please. You will wear yourself out.” He pleaded, and Christopher let his head fall. Staring into his lap, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head.
“Ow!” That really hurt.
“That’s what happens when you over-use your powers, especially when you’re still developing them. Your brain isn’t used to it, and it’ll be sore for a few hours. You’ll probably fall asleep soon, too. Moving all those books must have been exhausting.” Eddie tried to explain, and Christopher let out a yawn. “Thought so. Now, come on, lie down, sleep for an hour or two, and then we can talk, OK?” He nodded, feeling himself shut down pretty quickly. Eddie lifted his legs onto the bed and pulled a blanket over him as he snuggled down, his head resting on the familiar pillow. The last thing he saw as he closed his eyes was Buck standing watching them from the doorway.
“Buck?” He mumbled sleepily. “Sorry for...”
He felt the side of the bed move, like someone was sitting on it, and a hand running through his hair. He always thought he was too old for this now, but it felt nice and soothing. “It’s OK, kid.” Buck’s voice whispered. “We’re OK.”