Work Text:
Patterns swirled together on the popcorn ceiling, little secrets hidden there as your eyes wandered. Skin slick with cooling water, you laid on the dark silk sheets of the bed. Plush pillows strewn to the side, nothing but inky blackness surrounded you.
Two months had passed without your cycle making an appearance, you chalked it up to stress and your work as a hunter. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for it to happen, you’d always had an inconsistent cycle, no reason to stress over it’s absence. If anything, you told yourself, it was a small blessing. A break from blood staining your sheets and cramps debilitating your body.
Waves of tenderness, your breasts ached, some small spotting in your underwear to be washed away. It only really stood out to you when you started to feel sick, nauseated on the train with its rhythmic swaying and thunking wheels. Acrid smell of Nero’s lunch made your stomach flip, you had to press your hand to your lips to prevent a gag. No other signs of sickness, nothing Dr. Zayne was concerned about. He just suggested sleep and more water, stick to a healthy schedule when you messaged him about it.
Another week passed in a similar fashion, discomfort and denial running through your veins before you threw up. Curled over the toilet in the staff restroom, heaving as your stomach emptied itself, that you knew you had to check. You stopped by a convenience store, one you had never been to and would never return to, on your way home. Shakily, you picked out two pregnancy tests from different brands, kept your eyes low as you paid and shoved them in your bag before taking the train home. The tests sat unopened for two more days, haunting you from their perch on the bathroom counter.
Patiently you waited for the work week to end, you had a long weekend ahead, four days without work due to Caleb’s arrival back in Skyhaven. The fleet had been on a mission for the past six weeks, so classified you couldn’t even pull strings at the association to find out more. All you had was a return date to keep you going, no communication allowed for the duration. The silence ate at you, but you trusted Caleb.
So you packed a bag before work, hid it under your desk and left early to make the train. Once you arrived in Skyhaven, back aching and head pounding throughout the duration of your commute, you decided it was time. Little boxes tucked neatly in your luggage, sandwiched between mismatched pairs of socks. As you stepped out, into the familiar terminal, clean air filled your lungs. Skyhaven was so different from Linkon City, the longer you spent away the more it dawned on you. Without delay, you went to Caleb's apartment. Technically it was a shared residence now, but unlike your own apartment in Linkon you weren’t on the lease and you didn't pay for it. There were days you wished you’d lived together, but the commute and shared unwillingness to leave your careers made it impossible. So you had your space, with his model planes lining your shelves, and he had his, with his vanity overrun by your skincare products.
It was still bright out when you arrived, curtains drawn tight in Caleb’s absence. The air was thick, stuffy from the lack of movement. You went through the motions of tidying the place up. It wasn’t his first deployment since he came back, but it was the longest thus far. Curtains were pulled apart, golden sunlight filtering in through the thick glass windows so high above the world. Air filters switched out, fridge cleaned with a restock delivery already ordered. You changed the sheets, ran your fingers along the various colors of smooth satin bedding until you found a black set. It seemed like something from long ago, before you wormed your way in. Nowadays the sheets were always light, usually a neutral grey or light brown when Caleb did laundry, soft pastels or adorned with patterns of flora and fauna if you did them. These sheets were at the bottom of the pile. Pulling them out, feeling the coolness against your palm, invited by it, you decided to use them on the main bed.
Fresh out of busy work, every task marked off your list, you decided to shower. The grime of the day, cleaning supplies that made your skin dry and cracked, you wanted to wash them away. To be rid of it. The cold tile beneath your feet sent a shiver up your spine, hair on the back of your neck rising as you slowly discarded your clothes, dropping them into the hamper. At home you would have dropped them to the floor without a second thought, a problem for future you, but for now you took your time. Without any barriers to shield you, you turned and gazed upon your reflection in the mirror. A few bruises littered your arms and legs, marks left by Wanderers, old scars and moles dotted across the expanse of skin. As your eyes trailed lower and lower, you noticed the roundness of your stomach. Not inherently obvious, a small bulge that could’ve been contributed to a full meal, but the bump had your stomach sinking.
Steam billowed from the shower, clouds of mist engulfing the small room. The steam was comforting, allowed you to retreat within it, hidden amongst the fog. You took your time, went through every step of your routine and then some. Exfoliated and shaved, used every fancy product Caleb had tucked away in a basket under the sink. Face masks, hair treatments, fragrant lotions. All to delay the inevitable. Once the water ran cold and your fingertips pruned, you finally relented. Turned the pelting water off with a huff, empty silence filled the space like a blade cutting through the atmosphere. You retrieved your bag, wrapped in a towel and dripped water on the floor. Ripped open the packaging, followed the instructions and set it on Caleb’s bedside table while you dressed.
So lightheaded, from the altitude and the hot water, you barely managed to put on your underwear, a nice set he’d gifted you for your birthday. Soft light blue fabric bordered by white lace. A little bow set on the front of the waistline, matching bra with bow inlaid at the sternum. It was different from your usual pajamas. Old shirts and stolen boxers, courtesy of Caleb’s closet, were your go to. Preferring the comfort of his well worn apparel to stiff lingerie. Something about the delicacy of the lace, small looping patterns giving it a gentler edge, made it stand out.
You pushed the pillows away, ignored the stuffed fruit plushes that fell to the floor. Laid down on the fresh sheets, water droplets still cooling on your skin as you ignored the beeping timer, dreaded answers demanding an audience. Instead you thought of Caleb, stared up at the ceiling and reminisced.
It had barely been a year since he came home, the two of you were still thick in the honeymoon phase. Once out of highschool, no one even knew you’d grown up together unless you expliciately told them. At the time many of them assumed you were dating anyway, from pretending to be his girlfriend when he was in college to him saving you from awkward dates. The couples specials you’d cashed in on together, it was common knowledge that the two of you were linked.
There hadn’t been a formal transition, no anniversary date to be marked on the calendar. A simple progression, yearning and desire boiling over until all of your careful control evaporated. A night of desperate intimacy, a clear shift in dynamic, yet no labels were ever stated. Various explanations given to your friends and coworkers, too involved to be a situationship, yet there was a quiet barrier hesitant to be broken that kept you from calling it a relationship in earnest.
There were little windows of bliss, weekends in between deployments and missions holed up in his Skyhaven apartment or your Linkon residence, with nothing but each other's company. Your eyes trailed from the ceiling down to the desk on the left side of the bed. Trinkets and polaroids from extravagant dates, little mementos to keep the memories fresh. To keep a reminder of him throughout the time spent apart.
Caleb had always been there, like an ever present shadow following you around. His existence only possible due to your radiance, always on the periphery if you just looked. Years of following you around, picking up the pieces and ensuring your happiness without any acknowledgement. It wasn’t until he came back, back from Deepspace, back from the dead, that you knew the depth of his efforts. How long he’d spent in the darkness just to observe your light. You knew without a doubt that he loved you, more than anything in this life or the next.
Yet you couldn’t be certain how he would react to the possible news. Doubts would seep into your mind on his deployments, the perception and reality of your relationship unfolding.
Did he want to be a father? Was starting a family something on his bucket list? You’d never asked. The topic never came up, even as children playing house. You’d always been the wife with Zayne, your next door neighbor, playing the husband. It only made sense, you’d argued time and time again, he was the oldest. Caleb played the mailman or the dog, pouting at the mere suggestion of playing the baby. Yet, he’d never contradicted you. Never went against what you wanted, even as children.
Was that the reality, would he go along with what you wanted at his own expense? Your whole life he’d sat on the sidelines and let you call the shots. Followed every rule you’d made up as kids, even the obnoxious ones that meant he would lose. Would he be honest? Would he tell you that he wasn’t ready, that he never wanted a family? Would he ever tell you his true feelings, or would he grin and bear it at his own expense just to see you happy?
Tears welled up in your eyes as you thought through a million possibilities, when suddenly the lock of the front door opened. One solid click, and you froze, Caleb wasn’t supposed to come home for another day, yet you knew there was no one else it could be. Only the two of you knew where the Colonel lived, the only ones to have the keys and combinations.
Thudding, heavy tread of boots were softened after a moment, delicate scuff of slippers against the freshly mopped floors taking its place. You could hear him rummaging through the apartment. The suctioned pop of the fridge opening, bottles knocking against one another echoed in the otherwise empty space. You laid still, fingers curling into fists at your side. Willing your breathing to slow, to quell the panic thrumming in your chest, you listened intently. The shuffling got closer, surely he had seen your bag by now. Your shoes left by the door, coat hung in the entry, yet he didn’t call out for you.
On a normal day, after a deployment ended and you had a few days to spend together, you would have gotten up, greeted him at the door, enveloped him in a tight hug with peppered kisses across his face.
“Welcome home, Honey.” You’d laugh, air squeezed out of you by the force of his arms wrapped around your waist. The feeling of his breath against your neck, inhaling your scent after so long apart.
The bedroom door swung open, Caleb, still in his uniform, staring down at his phone with his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. His head was cocked ever so slightly to the right, like whatever he was looking at was puzzling him.
“Hey.” You greeted, barely a whisper as you finally moved. Rigid limbs going slack as you curled onto your right side, facing him. Crossing your arms over your stomach, a poor attempt at covering up given your attire.
“Pip-squeak.” Momentary surprise devolved into a warm smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Caleb shut his phone off, set it on your bedside table before kneeling in front of you. He looked tired, his shoulders slumped compared to how composed he normally was in uniform. Usually the stark difference would warm you, fill you with a selfish pride that only you could see him like this. Caleb, not the Colonel, relaxed at home.
“I missed you.” He whispered, reaching up to graze his knuckles along your cheek. His touch was gentle, the barest amount of pressure, a ghost of affection. You knew it was because of his arm, the lack of sensation put him on edge when it came to you. One wrong movement and he could crush your skull in. It’d taken a lot of trial and error, a lot of reassurance and practice to get to this. Letting out a hum in response, your eyes fluttered shut as his presence sank in. With Caleb came an air of security, that he would protect you from everything. Even your own thoughts and fears.
“How was it?” You asked, knowing he would give some vague answer, nothing too close to the truth, to not breach his contracts. This was a familiar game, just like when he asked about your classified missions.
“Alright, not the worst but not the best. There are still some things I need to look over but they can wait.” He explained, “How are you?”
You hummed noncommittally as his fingers trailed down your side, feather light strokes. The pressure deepened as he went down, less scared of hurting you. He stopped at your hip, resting his hand there. Brushing his thumb along the lacy edge in appreciation. It was soothing, so gentle when you held such a heavy truth from him.
“What’s a matter baby?” He asked, not beating around the bush. Finally you opened your eyes, unshed tears gathering on your waterline.
“Look at your table.” You whispered, rolling over to lay on your back. He stood up, leaned against the bed as he reached over the expanse of the bed. You watched him, eyes trained on his face as he grabbed the test, sat on the bed next to you. You could feel his warmth, radiating out and seeping into your skin where your hips touched. Even through all his layers, the man was a furnace.
For a brief moment, there was a light. Like a shooting star, a glimmer of a wish, as his eyes widened, the corners of his mouth curled upwards, parting a fraction as he took in the results. There was no guessing, you didn’t even have to look at it, one line or two, to know you were pregnant. Then it was gone, his face reverted to a carefully calculated expression of neutrality. Too close to the one he used at work, cold and disconnected.
“What do you want to do?” He asked, setting the test off to the side, placed into the darkness that surrounded you. You didn’t say anything, didn’t move as his resolve cracked. He was always weak to you. Gently, he placed a hand on either side of your head, leaned so his body was diagonal over yours, looking you square in the eyes.
It made you think of highschool, when you’d lost a bet and one of your friends dared you to lay under Caleb while he was doing push ups without explanation. Just to see how he would respond. You could still feel it, the cold chain dropping against your chest as he lowered himself, hot puffs of air fanning your face, the smell of his sweat. Was that the first time your thoughts strayed? You couldn't be certain, but you longed for that childhood naivety. The way Caleb teased you for blushing, how he shook his head and got his gross sweat on you.
“What do you want?” You asked, voice coming out in a rasp.
“It’s up to you. It’s your body-“
“Caleb.” Your tone left no room for discussion. “I want to know… how you feel. About this, the timing, us, everything. I need to know.”
Purple eyes, dusted with orange flecks around the iris, stared down at you, searching your soul. You felt exposed under his intense stare, so close to that of the interrogation room.
“I don’t think…” He started, scrambling to find the words. Your eyes widened, tears threatening to fall.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. It’s a bit sudden, but when have we ever followed the rules, huh?” He smiled, so tenderly it made your heart ache.
“You want to keep it?” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck. Without hesitation you pulled him closer, inspecting his face.
“Only if you want to, Pip-squeak. I would never say no to starting a family with you. If you feel it’s too soon or you don’t want kids, I’ll understand.” He explained, leaning down to press your foreheads together.
“I want this, with you.” You replied, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. The time apart was always rough, but with the revelation had been agonizing.
“Really?” He sat up, pulling you up with him, strong arms wrapping around your waist. Excitement evident in his eyes, shooting star turned meteor shower.
“Yes.” You breathed as he hugged you. Caleb buried his head in your neck, a smile imprinting against your skin. He pressed a kiss to your neck, your shoulder, across your collarbones. Slowly he laid you back down, still kissing along your chest. Against your sternum, along your ribs until he pressed one to the center of your stomach. Lashes long against his cheeks, he breathed in a sigh of relief, eyes flickering up to your flushed face.
“You’re going to be a wonderful mom.” He smiled, ears burning. To say he was surprised would be an understatement. He’d never let his mind stray that far, never allowed himself to hope you’d feel the same way he felt, much less dreamed of having a baby with you.
“We’ll have a little pilot on our hands.” He teased, stroking your stomach. He laughed as you rolled your eyes, finally showing your own excitement.
He went over logistics in his head, adding you to his insurance, setting up appointment dates, marrying you. He’d wanted to do things properly, but this was so much bigger than anything he’d expected. He’d known something was off the moment he entered the apartment and saw your shoes, the lack of greeting was the cherry on top.
He’d expected you to say you lost your job, got injured, a friend died, the worst was the imaginary breakup conversation he’d conjured in his head. When you didn’t greet him, he’d checked your location on his phone, only to see you were home. He hoped you were sleeping, was shocked to find you in his bed in the set he’d gifted you.
He’d always liked that shade of blue against your skin, how fragile the lace was compared to you, your life as a hunter. He liked giving you moments of femininity. Even if you stole his clothes half the time.
Two blue lines, you were pregnant.
Caleb pressed a kiss to your stomach, already imagining the future to come. The two of you would simply have to get married, that was nonnegotiable for Caleb, even if it was just a courthouse wedding and a celebration after the baby was born.
The bedroom that was reserved for you all those months ago, would be renovated into a nursery. He could already picture the walls painted with pastels, white fluffy clouds as decor. He couldn’t wait for you to start showing. Going shopping for maternity and baby clothes, his heart hammered at the thought of having a baby girl - pigtails and dresses - or even a little boy - overalls and striped socks.
Truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to see you happy. A baby on your hip, greeting him after long missions. Toys scattered around the living room, a picture of his precious baby in his wallet. The stress of his job, the torture and experiments he’d endured, made this moment worth it. He’d do it all over again, spend his entire life in pain, if it meant he would get to have this joy in every life. You’d always given him more than he could ever ask for, your attention, your care, your love, and now the greatest gift you could ever give him.