Chapter Text
The day Agatha Harkness had just lived was nothing short of pure hell.
She’s just spent the last six hours sitting at some dreary, boring lawyer’s office while he drones on about her bitch of a birth giver’s will.
Not that Agatha went in expecting anything, really. Evanora had disowned her when she was just barely out of high school. Shocker of the fucking century since they never really got along. Agatha would describe her prior relationship with Evanora as tumultuous at best, and even that is entirely too generous.
If it were up to Agatha, she would never dare to drag up the night of her eighteenth birthday.
Literally, as the clock struck midnight, Agatha had been awoken to Evanora with two empty suitcases and a promise to call the police if Agatha didn’t vacate the premises within the next hour.
Evanora never bother reaching out to Agatha since that night, barely looking at her daughter as she scurried out the door with no home, no plan and very little money.
Those first few months were some of the hardest of Agatha’s life. If it weren’t for Lilia’s generosity and spare bedroom, she would have been on the streets for a lot longer than she wants to think.
Jen and Alice had gotten her a job, while Wanda had gotten her a really great trauma therapist.
Through it all, Rio was her rock, her solstice, her sanity.
Agatha owes those five people everything.
Evanora never knew Agatha put herself through college, got a decent job that pays near six figures a year. Her mother never knew she got married, and most certainly never knew she had a grandchild (Agatha made sure she never would have, either).
Instead, Evanora Harkness died at home, bitter and alone to the very end.
Agatha didn’t even know Evanora had passed until Sharon Davis had come up to her in the cookie aisle at Trader Joe’s with teary eyes, grabbed her hands in her cold, clammy ones, and told her how sorry she was for Agatha’s loss.
Agatha had gone several aisles over after playing the grieving daughter and splurged on a decent bottle of champagne she and Rio had split hours after Nicky had been laid down for bed.
Jen, Alice and Lilia had even sent a card, complete with confetti and a speaker that played Kool & The Gang’s “Celebration” when the card had opened. In the middle of the card, in Jen’s neat handwriting, is “Sorry your mom’s dead” with a terrible drawing of a heart right after. All three women had signed the bottom. Wanda, one of Agatha’s closest friends from college, had signed off to the side of the message, writing a little “hooray!” with a smiley face right after. Her twins, Billy and Tommy, who were old enough to hold and use a pen, but not old enough to read (thank the Divine Mother), had scribbled their names in blue and green crayon respectfully.
Agatha loved it so much that she placed the card on display on the mantle, even long after the speaker's battery had died.
Needless to say, Agatha is not expecting anything from Evanora from beyond the grave. So, when she gets a call from some lawyer a few towns over to discuss the details to Evanora’s will, she could care less. In fact, she was ready to hang up in the guy’s face when he started to drone on and on about how somehow, someway, Evanora had made her attendance necessary.
Somehow legally binding.
It was infuriating.
Between fighting a pain in the ass, legally bounded bullshit thing, and a small sense of morbid curiosity, Agatha had grit her teeth and snapped that she would meet this stupid lawyer and discuss her stupid dead mother’s will.
Whatever.
Seriously, if Evanora Harkness wasn’t six feet under already, Agatha would have put her in there herself.
So, she had dragged herself up out of bed from the warm embrace of her wife, pressed a tender kiss to Rio’s forehead before padding over to Nicky’s bassinet and placing a soft kiss on his tiny, chubby cheek. She pulled herself away to sneak out before either one had woken up, already bitter she had to spend a day away from the loves of her life.
Bitter her cunt of a mother somehow had a sense of power over her, even while she was rotting away to nothingness.
Agatha’s never felt so bad for worms. They deserved better food.
The will reading was boring and painful to sit through. The entire time, Agatha switches from feeling like she’s on the cusp of a breakdown, to furious she’s wasting her entire day here when she could be spending this time with her wife and five month old baby.
The lawyer himself didn’t look too thrilled to be here either, though it does not make Agatha feel any better. Especially since, around hour three of the will reading, Agatha had come to the conclusion that this was just one big joke. Her mother’s final fuck you to her daughter, whose only flaw had been being born, apparently.
Predictably, she leaves the reading with nothing but a crushed spirit and frustrated tears in her eyes.
Not that Agatha had been expecting anything more.
She’s emotionally drained. All she wants to do is go home and get a big hug from her wife, and a slobbery, uncoordinated kiss from her baby.
It takes a surprising amount of willpower for Agatha to drive the twenty minutes from the bland corporate building to the two story suburban house she’s shared with Rio for as long as she can remember.
Her hands are white knuckled around the steering wheel, her upper arms shaking from the exertion. She can’t convince herself to move, instead swallowing around the huge lump that’s formed in her throat.
Agatha gulps in a few quick breaths, letting them out slowly through pursed lips as she lowers her forehead in between her hands. She inhales, holds, then exhales slowly. The repetitive motion slowly draws the tension from her body until she can breathe without feeling like she’s choking.
Suddenly, Agatha reels back and smacks her palm against the rim of the steering wheel.
No!
Damn Evanora Harkness! Agatha will not let this woman, who had taken so much of her, continue to haunt her any longer. She won’t let her.
Evanora may have gotten one last cruel lick in, one last go at Agatha to ensure she’s positively miserable.
Fuck that!
The hours wasted with the lawyer is the last time Agatha would ever have to acknowledge her existence. She would sleep just fine knowing the monster that had given her life would be alone for the rest of time, with not a single tear shed over her grave. Not from Agatha.
Never from Agatha.
Fuck Evanora Harkness.
The only people that truly deserve Agatha’s time and emotional energy are the owners of the names scribbled on a google eyed cat card from Hallmark on her mantle.
Her throat squeezes for an entirely different reason now.
The only ones that matter are the two people who lay just behind that large, white front door.
Through patience and time, they had all shown Agatha what it truly meant to be appreciated and loved.
To have a family.
To truly matter.
And Agatha’s determined to march into the house and show the two people she cares the most about in this world just how much they matter to her, too.
She wants nothing more than to kiss Rio silly and love on their little miracle baby until they’re both complaining.
(They never do, and even if they did, Agatha would only give them more until they felt even a fraction of the amount of appreciation, adoration, and love Agatha holds for them.)
Determined, Agatha pulls her keys from the ignition and throws the door to the car open with a bit more force than necessary and marches up the pathway to the house.
She unlocks the door and is careful when swinging it open. It’s just barely past two, so both Rio and Nicky should be well awake by now. But, then again, they could both be down for a nap.
The sound of children singing, and Rio’s soft voice echoes to the doorway, soothing Agatha’s frazzled nerves like a balm. Any remaining tension the day had caused to her body dissipates, leaving her feeling light and warm.
Careful to shut and lock the door behind her, Agatha toes off her shoes and slowly makes her way to the source of the noise: the living room. The sight before her nearly makes her heart burst.
Rio, in a messy, high ponytail, is standing in the middle of the living room in a cream color t-shirt that has an assortment of bright, cartoon style dinosaurs on the front and black boxers with small, oval shaped creatures in different shades of the rainbow.
(Trilobites, Agatha recalls. In college, Rio used to spend hours talking to Agatha about the ancient arthropods with a bright smile and shining eyes. It would have been downright cruel for Agatha to do anything less than listen with rapt attention.
The boxers were a birthday gift from a few years back. Agatha had paid Alice handsomely to make up the design in Photoshop so she could send it off to get the pair custom made from Rio’s favorite brand. There’s several dozen species of the ancient aquatic arthropods, and Agatha will proudly list off every single species on the boxers just to see Rio grin.)
Hoisted delicately in Rio’s arms, dressed in a green and yellow triceratops costume complete with a hood with all three horns, is Nicky. The hood is down, hanging limply from the back of the baby’s neck as Rio eagerly points to the TV.
She uses her hand to guide Nicky’s fist curled tightly around her index finger, using it to guide him as they dance around.
Well, okay, dancing is a very generous term for Rio bouncing Nicky gently, swaying side to side with him as she sings along to the song from the animated movie playing on the screen: obviously, The Land Before Time.
Two, if you need to be technical.
“Though you look like you,” Rio sings, gasping softly and poking Nicky gently on the nose.
Agatha’s heart melts at his responding giggle. She can’t bring herself to interrupt this moment. Not yet.
She leans in the entryway, watching the scene with an adoring smile.
Rio beams at Nicky, leaning in to rub her nose against his cheek. “We think you like us too, cause we’re a family and you’re one of us now!”
Slowly, Rio lift Nicky and spins around with him, bobbing her head as she continues to sing, “We’re a family and you’re one of us now! We’re a family and you’re one of us now! Though you look like you, we think you like us too, cause we’re a family and you’re one of us now!” She gasps again dramatically, holding Nicky up in the air before bringing him down and blowing a raspberry on his cheek.
She smushes her cheek to Nicky’s with a gasp as she points to the screen. “Look, that’s Cera. Her name’s Cera because it’s short for triceratops.” She tickles Nicky’s chest gently with her fingers, scrunching her nose up. “Just like you!”
As if finally sensing Agatha’s presence, Rio turns towards her wife, her smile softening into something precious. She tilts her head before leaning her cheek on top of Nicky’s head. “Hi, my love.”
Nicky looks across at her, his brown eyes widening and lighting up at the sight of her.
The nickname and Nicky’s reaction to seeing her, along with the entire scene Agatha had just witnessed, makes her feel overwhelmed in the best possible way.
She tears up, bringing a finger up to wipe at her eyes. “Hi,” she murmurs thickly.
Rio watches her closely, waiting patiently. A brow lifts.
Agatha shakes her head, wiping at the stray tears that escape her eyes. “I’m okay,” she insists softly, clapping her hands together before reaching out for Nicky. “Oh, my goodness! What does mami have you wearing!”
Rio presses a kiss to Nicky’s cheek, kneeling down to set the baby on the floor. “Go get mama, cariño,” she encourages gently as she sets Nicky on his knees.
The triceratops head falls forward, coming to rest on Nicky’s forehead. The size of the head makes it seem as if Nicky has actually transformed into a tiny dinosaur.
Agatha laughs, kneeling down and clapping her hands together. “Oh, my darling, come here!”
Nicky pads over quickly, the dinosaur head bobbing on the back of the baby’s head. By the time Nicky reaches Agatha, both she and Rio are in near tears from laughing so hard.
“I need to send a video to the group chat later,” Rio wheezes. “Oh my god, that was too cute.”
Agatha giggles, gently scooping Nicky up in her arms and standing up. She brushes his hair from his forehead, grinning at him. “You’re your mommies terrifying little dinosaur!” she coos adoringly, pressing several kisses to his cheek.
Rio, stil giggling, hoists herself up with a small grunt before flitting over to the duo. She places a hand on the small of Agatha’s back, leaning in to press a tender kiss to her lips.
Agatha sighs into her mouth, and it’s as if the day had never even happened.
Rio’s thumb tenderly rubs soothing circles into Agatha’s skin, pulling back from the kiss with a gentle hum. “Are you okay?”
Agatha presses one more long, lingering kiss to her wife’s lips, not pulling way until she has Rio gasping for air. She presses her lips to the side of Nicky’s head, smiling as the baby watches the cartoon dinosaurs on the TV screen.
“I’ve never been better,” she responds truthfully.