Work Text:
Hold steady.
Christopher grips Eve’s hands in her own as she pushes back from the rim of the rink. Eve holds onto her hands so tightly that she can feel the nails digging into the back of her gloves. It’s okay, she murmurs, her own voice rumbling in her chest. I’ve got you.
What if I fall? Eve asks, still looking at the ice beneath their blades, uncertain and unsteady on her skates. I don’t want to fall.
Hey. Christopher maintains his hold on her hands but leans forward just enough to tap his forehead against hers. Look at me.
Eve shakes her head, wobbles on her skates, holds even tighter onto Christopher’s hands until she’s steady again. I’ll fall.
Then I’ll fall with you.
That doesn’t make it better! Tears creep into the corners of her eyes. This was a bad idea. We should go back. We’re gonna get hurt.
Christopher leans forward again and kisses her girlfriend’s forehead gently. Sometimes, when we do hard things, we can get hurt. But what do we do when we get hurt?
Eve blinks twice and looks up to meet his deep blue eyes. Her cheeks grow red, but whether that’s the cold or something else, he can’t tell. Then she takes a deep breath and tries to push forward to meet him.
Look! Look!
Eve sits in the middle of their Christopher’s living room with her eyes on her son. She gestures wildly with one hand but doesn’t take her eyes off of him. He’s walking!
Christopher steps away from the kitchen counter just in time to see Brendan standing on wobbly baby legs, taking a first (or maybe not first) step forward, and then falling. Brendan’s face gathers that moment of shock that babies have sometimes, and he looks to Eve as though to gauge her reaction. Eve gasps and reaches out to him, but Christopher places a hand on her shoulder and crouches down next to her. Wait.
But he could be hurt, Eve says, not turning to Christopher and equally not wanting to wait. I need to make sure he’s okay—
Give him a second, Christopher says, and when Eve shoots him a look, he keeps his eyes on Brendan. What do we do when we get hurt?
He’s a baby, Christopher—
Christopher continues to focus on Brendan. The boy’s face is still scrunched up, but where he might have started bawling if Eve rushed to him, now he looks determined. It’s cute, in a baby sort of way. Look.
Eve turns just as Brendan struggles to push himself up and takes another step towards her.
It’s funny, doing this again.
Claire wobbles on her skates and then holds her arms out to either side of herself. It’s an attempt to keep herself stable and upright, and mostly it works. She at least catches the rim of the rink and makes sure she doesn’t fall when she slips again.
Eve zooms past her with their daughter – Rowena, named for Claire’s mother, with all the lithe grace that her aunt Agatha had as a ballerina (and still has, even though she’s retired). Brendan sits on the sidelines with his wife, sharing a cup of hot cocoa with her as their son laces up his first pair of skates. She ruffles his hair fondly. When he’s ready, she’ll join the ice with them, Brendan pushing her wheelchair around the rink while Rowena shows her nephew how to skate.
Claire loves them all.
She loves them so much.
(A small part of her regrets that Agatha won’t be joining them. She and Aislin have accepted an invitation from Wanda to join them for a holiday tradition with her family, which is important given just how overbearing Wanda’s grandfather can be. Claire understands this to some extent; she would be just as protective with Rowena – is just as protective with Rowena – or at least has been when there’s been need of it. Wanda’s grandfather, however, has a much harder shell to crack.)
Hey, Eve says, gliding up next to Claire and matching her pace. You’re on the sidelines. Something wrong?
Claire chuckles. I’m scared of falling, she admits, brushing her free hand through her long hair. (She loves it, too, the way it falls perfectly about her shoulders. It’s been a long time coming.)
Eve’s eyes widen. You? Scared? She covers her mouth with one mitten and then lowers it with a knowing smile. You’re not scared of getting hurt, are you?
A little.
At her admittance, Eve takes both of Claire’s hands in her own, the same way that Claire did for her so long ago, and gently leads her away from the edge. Did you forget what we do when we get hurt?
No. I remember. Claire sticks her tongue out at Eve. It’s cold, and it’s warm.
Eve frees one hand just enough to boop Claire’s nose. If I remember right, you like a little pain.
Ew, Mom! Gross! Rowena chirps out as she speeds past them.
Claire whirls so that her eyes can follow her daughter, but Eve wasn’t prepared, and they both fall, a tangle of limbs. For a moment, they’re both startled, and then they both laugh. It hurts, Claire hisses out, but Eve takes her hands again and meets her eyes. She doesn’t even have to say it.
What do we do when we get hurt?
Claire pushes herself up, a little more slowly than Eve, and when she stands at her full height, Eve leans forward and kisses her before pulling away with a twinkle in her eyes.
C’mon, Eve says. Let’s join everyone.
And they do.