Chapter Text
Here we fucking go again. Max thought, fidgeting with the hem of her oversized sweatshirt. Okay, it was actually Lucas’ sweatshirt but that was one of the perks of being married, what's his was hers.
Dustin used to tease them early in their relationship, following them around the neighborhood singing “Lucas and Max sitting in a tree…” Their life had mirrored the rhyme pretty well, even if Max thought a few more steps should have been added to really make it completely applicable: first came love, then came an evil sorcerer who trapped her in his mind for 18 months, then came a long road to recovery, THEN came marriage, and now… Now she was longing for a baby in a baby carriage. They both were, honestly.
They had been married for a year and a half, now living in a townhouse just south of Ann Arbor, where they had both attended for their bachelors and now just about to finish up their masters. Max was so proud of the perfectly mundane life they had created. Steady jobs that they worked during the day, fitting their schedule perfectly while wrapping up their studies. The longer she learnedabout childhood grief counseling, the more convinced she was that it was the perfect career path for her. Learning different coping strategies, why the brain processed trauma so differently in children and teens versus adults, even the physical reactions to grief seemed to slowly heal something in her. Max was thrilled to use it in practice, that was, until, a phone call from a friend followed by a conversation with her beloved rekindled another dream.
Lucas had come home from classes that end of August evening and found Max making dinner. He stuck true to his late high school plans and was wrapping up his masters in physical therapy. To Max, he seemed like a natural; people complimented his bedside manner, his care for patients, and dedication to caring for the whole person. As much as he tried to keep Max’s physical disabilities private, Lucas would often gush that he learned everything he knew about patient care from her.
“Well well well,” he said, casually dropping his bag and going to stand behind her. His arms wrapped around her waist and squeezed, illisting a small laugh from the red head. “You are a sight for sore eyes. Speaking of, is it a glasses day?”
Max put down the spatula covered in marinara sauce, a Sinclair family recipe she was hellbent on mastering, before turning around, readjusting her bright red frames, and planting a kiss on her husband's lips. “I’m fine, Stalker. I was just getting a headache from reading. You should be proud of me for not toughing it out!” she replied before turning her attention back to dinner. “Here, try this. What is it missing?”
Lucas took a taste of the sauce. “Little bit of pepper, some more oregano, and you might have beaten my mom.” Max pumped her fist in the air and reached for the extra ingredients as the phone rang. “I got it!” Lucas said, planting one more kiss on the girl’s cheek before striding to the wall phone. “Sinclair residence… oh hey Steve! Yeah she’s here, let me put you on speaker phone.”
“Max?” Steve’s voice filled the modest home.
“Hey Steve! Is Mer there?” Max responded, putting down the lid on the sauce and leaving it to simmer. When Steve met Meredith summer of ‘89, before the Party was scattered across the country for college, everyone knew Steve “The Hair” Harrington had found his perfect person. Not only that, but Meredith graphed herself into the group perfectly; it truly felt like she had always been there.
She took a special liking to Max, having grown up with an absent father and alcoholic mother herself. “Listen, if I can get out of it, so can you. They don’t define you; what you make of your life is the best ‘fuck you’ you could give to them.” Meredith had told the girl all those years ago. Max looked up to her almost as much as she looked up to Nancy and Robin, which was saying something. She often thought about how she went from having no sisters and a shitty step brother to three incredible older sisters and a kickass big bro. A broken but beautiful family.
“I’m here, so is Daniella.” Steve’s wife of 3 years answered for herself and their 2 year old daughter.
“Hey Dani girl! How’s my favorite niece?” Max chided. The small child responded in babbles that made no sense to anyone but Max who played along until Steve interrupted.
“Ellie, do you want to tell Uncle Lucas and Aunt Max what your shirt says?” Steve brought the conversation back to center.
Lucas and Max gave each other a knowing smile.
“Would it happen have anything to do with becoming a big sister?” Lucas asked.
“How the fu- crap did you know?” The older man asked, catching himself from cursing in front of his daughter. “We just found out a few weeks ago!”
“Just a hunch.” Max answered. “Oh my gosh I’m, we’re, so excited for you both! How are you feeling Meredith? How far along are you?”
“Thanks Max!” Meredith responded. “I’ve been pretty nauseous, which is harder chasing around a 2 year old and a classroom full of first graders, but overall I’m doing well. I’m 10 weeks, confirmed this morning.”
“That’s great! Congratulations to you both!” Lucas squeezed his wife’s hand, noticing how her eyes were misty, like they had been when Dani’s imminent arrival was announced all those years ago. “I’m sorry to cut this call short, but we were just about to eat dinner. Could we talk again on Saturday?”
“Of course, man! Hey but do us a favor, don’t share it yet? We each got to pick someone to tell and we both picked each of you. I almost picked Buckley but I knew she’d blab instantly.” Steve said.
“Our lips are sealed.” Lucas answered. “Love you guys a lot, congrats again.”
They said their pleasantries, then hung up the receiver. Lucas turned to his wife, tears freely falling down her cheeks now.
“I know babe, I know.” Lucas pulled her into an embrace.
“We would have had an almost 3 year old, Lucas. My due date was in October.” Max exhaled into his chest.
“I know.”
“I wanted it so badly.”
“Me too.” His grip tightened just a little at that comment. “Max… maybe now is not the best time to bring it up, but I’ve been thinking.” She pulled away just a little to look into his eyes, her glasses foggy from her hot tears.
“You want to start trying again?” She asked, the question punctuated with hope and fear and excitement.
“Well, you are just about done with school. We have a house, plenty of room. When we graduate in May we’ll both be able to get even better paying jobs.” Lucas rationalized. “It seems like the ideal time. What do you think?”
Max paused, then, walked over to one of the bar stools, sitting down holding her husband’s hand.
“Lucas, I want that so badly. I want a family with you. But I’m terrified. What if it happens again?” Max thought aloud. “I couldn’t take it. Losing a baby… I can’t go through that again. And I can’t watch you go through that again.”
“Hey, listen to me. You don’t need to worry about me.” Lucas looked deeply into his wife’s eyes. “For better or worse, that’s my promise to you. The good, the bad, and the bag pissing, remember? If you’re ready, I’m ready. If you want to wait forever, I’ll wait with you. But Max, what is it you’re always saying? ‘If you’re going to fixate on everything that could go wrong, you need to also focus on what could go right!’ This could go wrong, but it could go so right too!”
A sigh escaped the girl’s lips.
“I hate it when you throw my advice back at me.” She grumbled. “Okay. Okay, yes, I want to start trying again. But before that, I am going to the doctor to make sure everything is still good and to figure out how to come off the pill with the intention of getting pregnant. Until then,” she slinked off the stool and gripped his bicep, standing on her tip toes to reach his ear. “It wouldn’t hurt to start practicing some more.” She whispered. In one fluid motion, Lucas scooped her up over his shoulder, pulling out a surprised shriek from Max, turned off the simmering sauce, and carried his beloved upstairs.
So now Max stood in the bathroom, 8 months since coming off the pill, 2 months since her last cycle, taking yet another pregnancy test. She could have waited for Lucas to get home, but she already knew what to expect.
The doctor said everything was great; there was no obvious reason why they had to wait so long. Pacing the familiar path, Max hoped against hope this time would be different. She could almost hear echoes of her husband cooing over a baby, the small patter of feet in the hallway, the sleepless nights that she so desperately wanted. She let herself daydream just a little like she always did, the part of her that leaned towards optimistic making an appearance, when the timer went off. She casually picked it up, glanced at the stick already disappointed. The two dark lines were a shock.
“Positive? It- it’s positive?” She stuttered out, free hand instinctually fluttering to her belly.
Max turned the stick this way and that, waiting for the very dark lines to suddenly disappear; for someone to jump out from around the corner and yell “Sike! You really thought you deserved something that good?” Eventually, as if on autopilot, she made her way into the living room and plopped herself onto the couch, eyes never leaving the pink and white plastic.
She sat there for over an hour, just staring. Max reached into the coffee table to pull out her reading glasses, wanting to confirm she wasn’t seeing things. “Nope.” she whispered, hand returning to her stomach. “That’s positive alright.”
She suddenly, and somewhat violently, remembered the cause of why she took the test in the first place. Sprinting to the bathroom, Max threw up yet again, though there was nothing left to purge, just bile.
Worn, Max returned to the living room and looked at the clock on the wall, 11:30. Lucas wouldn’t be home until after 6 at the earliest, but there was a growing thump in her throat and she knew she had to tell someone. Max racked her brain on who to call, guilt consuming her at not calling her husband. But Max had known since they started trying how she wanted to tell him; a beige onesie with blue lettering spelled out “daddy’s number one fan” accompanied by a little basketball, baseball, and tennis ball had been sitting in between sleep shorts for months, occasionally being picked up like a hopeful secret before being put back in its home. But not that night. That night it would finally come out of the drawer for good.
Max smiled at that idea as she continued to think about who to call. Her first thought was obvious, though it made her sad. She wanted to call the person who she still felt was her best friend even though it had been five and a half years since she had died. Her next thought shocked her; she wanted to call her mom.
Max hadn’t thought of her mom in years. Even when she was planning her wedding, she missed her dad more than her mom, but that was quickly replaced with the love of Hopper and Joyce, Sue and Charles, even Steve and Meredith. Max was content then, but now? Now she wanted to share the joy of finding out she was going to finally be a mom with her own. That just wasn’t an option.
That could have led to despair, until she focused on who was available, who she could call. And in the end, the answer was obvious.
Mas ignored the phone book in the kitchen, knowing the number by heart. She picked up the receiver and dialed the familiar digits. Thankfully, she picked up quickly.
“Hello?” Nancy Wheeler answered.
“Hey.” Max breathed out, suddenly doubting the logic behind calling her “big sister”.
“Oh hey Max. Everything okay? Lucas told me you both had food poisoning or a stomach bug but he was over it, did you get past it?” Nancy asked.
“Yeah so about that…” Max thought long and hard about how she was going to phrase this. Plausible deniability, tell her without telling her so you still tell Lucas first. “Um, that ‘stomach bug’ isn’t going to go away any time soon, at least not for 9 months or so.” she twirled the phone cord around her finger, hoping Nancy would understand what she was trying to say.
“Oh my god Max are you-”
“And I have not been able to tell my husband yet, so obviously I have not told you yet.” Max interrupted. “I just… I needed someone to talk to and you seemed like a safe bet. So, without saying the actual words, help me out because I’m freaking out right now.”
“Max. Breathe.” Nancy instructed. “First of all, we are actually happy about this, right? Just nervous? Because if we aren’t happy, I’ll be on the next plane and-”
“Nance I’m fucking thrilled.” Max responded, trying to cut her off quickly. “We have been trying, for months actually. And it’s been one negative after another I’d almost given up hope.” She bit her lip before continuing. “I just…” almost inaudibly she added “what if it all goes wrong again?”
Nancy wished she could climb through the phone, pick up the girl like she did for the months after she’d woken from her coma, and ease all her fears. Why can’t they both just catch a break? Nancy thought to herself.
“Okay. Do you want help and advice, or do you want comfort and a listening ear?” Nancy asked, trying her best to sound supportive while also giving practical options.
“I want my big sister. So yes/and?”
“Got it. Okay, first of all. OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO BE AN AUNT!” Thankfully that comment had its desired effect: drawing a small laugh out of the girl. “Now that we have that out of the way. Max, how far along do you *think* you are?”
“What an odd question. Um, I could be anywhere between 2-10 weeks. I missed my cycle last month, but the test was negative. I took it today because I’ve been fucking exhausted, my boobs have been killing me, and I haven’t been able to keep anything down down for weeks.”
“Those are all really really good signs, as much as they suck. Have you called your doctor yet?” Nancy asked, fulfilling her role as big sister as best she could.
“That was going to be my next call.” Max told her. “You know how much I love doctors.”
Coma, hospital, months of pt, an eye surgery, another hospital stay, a trip when she lost… Nancy had to cut her mind off there.
“Max, you’re ready. You can do this.” Nancy tried to sound encouraging, tried to be upbeat, but she was even nervous for the young family. “And for the love of god tell your husband. I have never seen a man so flat out goofy over his wife-”
“Well you did have Ted Wheeler as your father.” Max interrupted.
“Yeah and who were your examples?” Crickets would have been louder. “I thought so. Now. Get off this phone, call your doctor, then tell Lucas. And Max?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re ready to be a mom. You are not going to be your mom. Your life looks radically different and, as proud of you as I believe she would be, she should take some notes. Because you are incredible and will be the most present, healed, adoring mother possible.”
There was a sniffle though the phone before a faint. “Thanks Nance.”
“Any time. Love you sis, and love you my niece or nephew!”
Max hung up the phone, then, having to look at the phone book, dialed another number. Do it scared.
—
Max was standing over the stove, trying, and failing, yet another Sinclair family recipe when Lucas walked through the door. She had tried her best to clean up the apartment, but nausea and exhaustion kept overwhelming her and she’d have to lay down. Cooking dinner was her attempt at normalcy, but even that was making her stomach churn. To her relief, Lucas held bags of Chinese takeout from down the street.
“Honey, I’m home.” He called playfully in a sing-song voice, earning an eyeroll and chuckle from Max. “Are you feeling any better?”
“A little.” She lied, but not trying to. She was feeling better knowing that he was soon going to be in on the secret and that she would soon get some more support. “I’m glad you picked up dinner, your mom’s soup is not coming along well at all.”
Lucas peered into the pot. “Yeah, that’s looking a little more like a biohazard than chicken and wild rice. Oof!” Max playfully hit his stomach before he reached over for the plates.
They sat down to dinner and chatted about their day, Max barely picking at her food before putting down her fork and picking up the bag from under her chair.
“What is that?” Lucas asked? “My birthday was last month and our anniversary is in June.”
“I know, but this couldn’t wait.” Max answered, all nausea thankfully disappearing so she could be fully present for this moment. She handed Lucas the bag and he gleefully opened it.
He pulled out the onesie first, then the stick with the very dark lines, secured in a plastic baggie because Max could not get past the fact that it had literal urine on it.
“Max, what is this?” Lucas asked, looking between the two items and his wife.
“It finally happened.” Max responded, still not daring to say the words out loud.
“Oh my god. We’re having a baby!” Lucas jumped up so quickly his chair tipped back but he did not care. He ran over to Max, engulphing her in the biggest hug possible. When he released her, she stood up to give him a proper one. They stood there for a long time, weeping and laughing like giddy teenagers again. Finally, Lucas released his grip, , but only enough to slide down onto his knees and cradle her belly in his hands. He kissed her midsection repeatedly, eliciting laughs from Max until he finally stopped momentarily.
“Hi my sweet baby. I love you. Your mom loves you. Your family loves you.” He looked up for a moment at his wife, realizing he was very much taking up her space. Lucas let his hands hover just long enough for her to nod and put her hand on the back of his head, carefully returning him to his original post. “And I cannot wait to meet you. I mean, I’ll be patient but only for so long.” He put one more kiss to her belly before standing up, pulling her into yet another embrace.
They stayed there for a few minutes, until Max suddenly broke the hug and ran yet again to the bathroom. But Lucas was right behind her, holding her hair and rubbing her back. They were a team, always. And when they fell asleep, both their hands rested on her belly, on their rainbow.