Chapter Text
Eleanor has ended up where she always ends up at parties: in the basement with the nerds. Some of her friends are passing around a joint, but she has no desire to try it. She’s done too much research, and knows she’d be the paranoid high person without needing to test the theory. She’s happy enough lying on this sofa, with her lukewarm punch, her legs tangled with Jack’s, a cat resting on her stomach.
Eleanor can barely remember who’s house this even is, who this cat belongs to, but he’s beautiful, ginger and white and purring happily as Eleanor scratches behind his ears. Victoria always joked that Eleanor was like Snow White: the animals flocked to her without her even needing to look for them.
Not that Victoria was any better, she knew every dog within a five mile radius, always so chatty with their owners whenever they took Baymax for a walk. Victoria may be the most extroverted person Eleanor has ever known, she talks to everyone, and happily so. Eleanor would be happy talking to no one but her family on dog walks, at a push, her friends if they happened to run into them.
Eleanor loves her family; is fully aware they’re like a family off a cereal commercial or something: all shiny and smiley and like they had no problems in the whole world. Everyone always knew those commercials were bullshit but with Eleanor’s family it was very close to the reality.
They weren’t robots, they bickered sometimes, they had stupid little arguments that meant nothing. And they weren’t always smiling, of course sadness and anger and frustration came to knock sometimes, a bout of depression so massive it would tow Dad under for a while, or relentless anxiety that would have Papa wearing the floorboards thin with his pacing.
So, they weren’t like the cookie cutter version of people on the shiny, happy, commercials, but they did love each other that much, always had done, and for the most part they were that happy.
Eleanor has never known anything but her family being close knit, and supportive. And for an introvert, it was testament to how much she adores them, that she could be around any of them without her social battery draining.
She’s never had the social ease that Papa and Victoria do: where they thrived off meeting people, could shake hands for hours, and were genuinely happy to do so. But she doesn’t mind, Eleanor was happier here with the nerds, and the animals who magically found her.
‘Shouldn’t you be off upstairs with Rocky?’ Eleanor asks Jack, shifting her legs to try and poke him with her toes.
‘Maybe later’ Jack says, not looking up from his console ‘when he’s sick of the party, he’ll want to come back to mine and chill.’
‘Chill?’ Eleanor asks, raising her eyebrow.
‘Yeah’ Jack winks extravagantly ‘chill.’
‘Well, have fun’ Eleanor says, scratching the cat’s head again.
‘Speaking of people we’re attached to, where’s your sister? Off with Archie in one of the bedrooms?’
‘Maybe’ Eleanor shrugs ‘she got the sex chat off my Dads a few weeks ago, so probably.’
‘Did she die? Listening to your extremely hot dads talk about the birds and the bees?’
‘Could you not call my dads extremely hot?’ Eleanor shudders.
‘They are, my sweet innocent child.’
‘Would you like it, if I called your parents hot?’
‘My parents are not walking talking sex symbols.’
‘Ugh, stop’ Eleanor retches, making Jack laugh.
Eleanor throws a cushion at him and says
‘It wasn’t the bees and the birds anyway, it was more about consent and protection.’
‘Did they threaten to hunt Archie down and kill him, if he ever hurt Victoria?’
‘No’ Eleanor rolls her eyes ‘because they’re not neanderthals.’
‘Oh they would be hot as—’
Eleanor picks up another cushion and hurls it at him.
‘Stop calling my dads hot!’
‘They are’ comes a disembodied voice from somewhere in the room that Eleanor swivels her head to try and locate, but fails to. Jack is still laughing.
‘Why are we even friends?’
‘Cos we’re queer, nerdy people who like quiet is why’ Jack says, downing the last of his drink and untangling his legs with Eleanor’s, to go get another.
It’s not like it’s the first time Eleanor has ever heard people call her dads hot. When she was little, the term baffled her entirely. Since figuring out that she was aroace, Eleanor often joked that she was as extreme on the sexuality spectrum as her Dad was.
Papa often joked that Dad was the gayest man alive, into double digits on the Kinsey scale. Well, if a Kinsey scale existed for asexuality and aromanticism, Eleanor was at the very end of the scale: no attraction or romantic feels at all, nada, zilch. Eleanor saw people like she saw nature, she could acknowledge that people were beautiful, but it was like calling a sunset or a mountain lined lake or an old tree beautiful, she didn’t want to have sex or be in a relationship with those things either.
Eleanor understands in that way, that her dads are beautiful, and she can see why people would find them attractive. But that doesn’t make her hearing it, feel any less icky; no one likes to think of their parents like that.
Eleanor stretches, the movement making the cat jump off her stomach. Just as she is getting up to get more lukewarm punch, the clack of heels sounds on the basement stairs and half the nerds in the room stare open-mouthed as Victoria comes into view.
‘What’s wrong?’ Eleanor asks the moment she sees Victoria’s expression.
‘We need to call Dads.’
‘On it’ Eleanor says and she races up the stairs after her sister, waving a goodbye to Jack.
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Alex is nodding off on the sofa, Henry’s head in his lap, when the sound of his phone startles him fully awake.
‘I’m up’ Alex shouts half coherently, as Henry sits up and reaches for the phone, answering it on speaker.
‘Are you ok?’ are the first words out of his mouth, given that’s it’s closing in on the girls’ curfew.
They always offered to pick the girls up from whenever they were, it was the safest option they had at their disposal.
‘We’re fine’ Eleanor says ‘but we think Kayla might have been spiked, can you bring her to the hospital?’
‘We’re on our way’ Alex says, pulling up the address the girls had sent them earlier.
Alex grabs the car keys, and a spare coat and gets the Sat Nav set up in the car, as Henry deals with the alarm before climbing into the passenger seat.
‘Who’s party was this, again?’ Henry asks as Alex gets on the road.
‘Anya? Ariel? One of Victoria’s teammates, anyway.’
‘You’re meant to be good with names’ Henry teases.
‘Our daughter talks to about the same amount as people, as either one of our moms on a daily basis, you expect me to remember them all?’
‘No, love’ Henry says gently, putting a hand on the back of Alex’s neck and stroking his thumb there ‘no, I don’t. Are you ok?’
‘How the fuck are people still getting spiked in this day and age?’ Alex sighs.
‘I know, love’ Henry says sadly ‘but she’ll be ok, we’ll get her looked after.’
When Alex and Henry reach the house, the party has spilled out onto the lawn, cups littering the grass. Alex sees their daughters immediately, standing with Archie—Victoria’s boyfriend—who along with Victoria herself, is supporting Kayla, their arms around her waist.
Alex and Henry get out of the car, the vast majority of the kids scurrying back inside at the sight of them.
‘Hey Dads’ Victoria says ‘thanks for coming.’
‘Of course, darling’ Henry says, relieving his daughter and picking up Kayla in a bridal swoop like she weighs nothing.
Alex reminds himself that standing in the front yard of a party, with their two 17-year-old daughters, one of their boyfriends, and their sick friend watching, is not the time to get aroused by his husband’s competence.
Alex looks at Archie, who looks a bit lost, and takes pity on him. Alex and Henry have both tried their hardest to be friendly with Victoria’s boyfriend. He was a good kid, and he clearly adored their daughter, but it had taken time to not let their primordial, paternal instincts win over. The fact that he was polite and kind helped, that he had taken an age to get used to calling them by their first names, that he clearly cared what they thought of him.
'Do you need us to call you an Uber, Archie?’ Alex asks as Henry gets Kayla in the car, and Victoria and Eleanor climb in with her.
‘Eh’ Archie looks down at his phone ‘yeah, please, my mom is working nights at the moment.’
‘Busy saving lives?’ Alex smiles as he opens Uber and keys in Archie’s address.
‘She had a mom who had quads yesterday, she had to do heart surgery on one of the boys, she said it was the smallest heart she’d ever seen.’
‘And the baby was ok?’
‘Yeah’ Archie says ‘yeah, he was. She was saying you guys still visit?’
‘The peds ward? Yeah we do, when we have time. Though it’s mostly the parents who are impressed with us these days, we try to visit the other wards where the patients would actually want to see us.’
Archie chuckles in what is clearly a placating way; it makes Alex feel old, unintentionally cracking out dad jokes.
‘Here’s your ride’ Alex says, pointing at the Prius pulling up ‘you let Victoria know, when you get home, ok?’
‘Ok’ Archie says ‘thanks, Alex.’
‘It’s no problem, Archie, get home safe.’
Alex watches as Archie climbs into the Uber, and it drives away, before he gets into his own car, where Kayla has her head in Victoria’s lap in the backseat, Eleanor slightly squished against the opposite window.
Alex pulls away from the kerb as Henry pulls a plastic bag out of his pocket and hands it back to the girls.
‘Is this a poop bag?’ Victoria asks, incredulously as she takes it.
‘It does the same job’ Henry says ‘just in case she throws up.’
Victoria takes the bag and waves it open, the air filled with the sound of crinkling, along with a smell Alex would rather not be smelling, while in a car with his daughters.
‘Why do I smell weed?’ Alex asks, trying to keep any accusation out of his voice.
‘The basement nerds were smoking it’ Eleanor says easily ‘not me, I know I’d be the paranoid high person.’
Alex doesn’t ask for any further context with that sentence, as Victoria adds
‘Plus, you know the whole cancer and addiction family stories we have, doesn’t exactly endear us to drugs.’
‘Just drink?’ Alex says, raising his eyebrows in the rearview mirror at their daughters.
‘Everything in moderation, Papa,’ Victoria says ‘you said that. And you agree that the legal drinking age in this country is a joke, considering you can vote, enlist and get married at eighteen. Imagine not being able to have a drink until your third wedding anniversary, god.’
‘Are you trying to tell us something, Victoria?’ Henry asks, sounding slightly worried.
‘No, Dad, I’m not getting married anytime soon, me and Archie have only been dating like five months. Plus I want to get my BSW and a Masters degree before I’d even consider letting someone put a ring on this finger.’
‘You are too wise for your age, you know that?’ Alex says.
‘It’s your guys’ fault, raising us to be all like confident and empowered.’
‘And being able to talk to you, like you’re people, rather than scary authoritarians’ Eleanor chips in.
‘That too’ Victoria agrees.
After a few minutes of silence, Alex pulls into the hospital’s parking lot, and says ‘we’re here.’
Henry gets out and picks up Kayla again, walking into the ER with Victoria, as Eleanor comes with Alex to find the parking meter. Hospitals were the last place he knew that still had physical tickets, as opposed to paying on your phone.
'You’re going to call Kayla’s parents, aren’t you?’ Eleanor asks as they make their way across the parking lot.
‘Of course, Eleanor, you know we have to let them know.’
‘Kayla’s mom is in Morocco at the moment, she married some photographer guy who keeps taking her away. And her dad lives in North Dakota now.’
‘North Dakota?’
‘Yeah, I don’t know why.’
‘She can stay with us’ Alex sighs ‘but we’ll have to tell her parents at some point. Me and your dad would want to know if either of you came to any harm.’
‘Like that time Victoria puked up yellow after drinking too many banana daquiris?’
‘Yes’ Alex says, nudging her in the side ‘though I did the same with strawberry daquiris, once upon a time, so I can’t judge.’
‘Did you not get the ‘lie to your teenagers so they don’t make the same mistakes as you’ handbook?’
‘No,’ Alex nudges her again and Eleanor rolls her eyes and slips her arm through his ‘we got the ‘treat your kids like people so they don’t see drink and drugs and sex as unattainable and forbidden, which will just result in them wanting them more and using them irresponsibly’ handbook’’.
‘That’s a very long title.’
‘Yeah, well’ Alex chuckles ‘you’re doing alright, aren’t you?’
‘Is now the time to unburden all my deep, dark secrets?’
Alex stops and looks at Eleanor but she’s grinning at me within two seconds.
‘Give your Papa a heart attack, why don’t you?’
‘Sorry, Papa.’
‘But you know you can, right? Tell us anything? Call us anytime? We’ve got you, always.’
‘Yeah’ Eleanor says, squeezing his arm ‘I know.’
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The night at the hospital is long; though given their fame status, they do all get ushered into a private room relatively quickly. Alex and Henry never forget how well known they are worldwide, but it’s in the back of their minds, and it is jarring nowadays when they are reminded so starkly of it. It doesn’t happen often, they’ve been in Austin, living their beautiful boring lives for nearly twenty years, they stopped being exciting to the vast majority of people they encounter, a long time ago.
They can’t moan though, not when it has it’s advantages, even if it is getting some extra chairs in the room, because their daughters refuse to leave. They squeeze onto a cot together, falling asleep entangled. Alex and Henry—trying to get comfortable in chairs—doze off occasionally, but spend most of the night, talking in low whispers, and keeping an eye on their daughters, and Kayla, as nurses bustle in and out, checking on her.
Kayla wakes with a groan the next morning, her hand against her forehead. She looks taken aback to find her teammate’s entire family in the same room as her, but doesn’t comment on it. She lapses into silence, constantly twisting and bundling the sheets in her fingers.
She gets discharged mid-morning, once her last set of blood tests, and vitals have been deemed ok. The drive back to their house is quiet, and as Henry drives, Alex can’t stop checking on Kayla in the rearview mirror. He just, he wants to bundle her up tight. He wants to wrap a blanket around her shoulders, cook her a hearty breakfast, and let her know everything was going to be ok, that none of this—not getting spiked, not her parents splitting up or moving away—is her fault.
Alex knows that in so many situations, divorce is the best option for everyone. That kids are better being raised by parents who are happier apart, than miserable together; he knows it’s true for his own parents. And he knows too, that parents whose work takes them away a lot, can try their hardest, knows that Archie’s neonatal surgeon mom, loves her son beyond measure, while she’s busy saving other children’s lives.
Alex has long reckoned with all of that, but there’s working parents, and there’s absent parents, and Alex, though he doesn’t want to ask, thinks Kayla might have the latter. Victoria has so many friends over to the house, that he can barely keep track, but he can remember Kayla’s red hair, appearing often lately in the social vista of their daughters.
‘Hey girls’ Alex says, once they’re pulled into the driveway, and made their way inside ‘can you show Kayla where she’s staying? She can have Bea’s room, and get her some towels, and anything else she needs, yeah? We’ll start on breakfast.’
‘Pancakes?’ Victoria asks, as she walks up the stairs, with her hand on the small of Kayla’s back.
‘Sure, mija’ Alex says ‘I can make pancakes. Kayla, is that ok with you?’
Kayla simply nods, and lets herself be led up the stairs. Alex and Henry walk through to the kitchen, where Alex starts making pancake batter, without conscious thought—having done it hundreds of times—as Henry looks after Baymax.
He only registers Henry is back in the kitchen when his arms fall around Alex’s waist, a kiss being dropped on his temple.
‘So, what do we do now?’ Henry says quietly ‘do we go to the police?’
‘I don’t think there’s much they could do’ Alex sighs ‘there were dozens of kids at that party, and no way to prove it was any of them.’
Alex hates it, hates no matter how much better things have gotten over the years—and they have gotten immeasurably better—that there’s always going to be things that cannot be fixed. Things that the law, or science, or simple humanity will not fix. Instances of women and teens getting spiked are so much lower than they once were, but are still not at zero.
Alex wants to do, what he always wants to do, when he despairs at the world and feels helpless to fix it: he wants to dive into work, and help whatever way he can. Alas, Sunday morning is not the time to be burying himself in work. Not when he has pancakes to make, and teenage daughters to be teased by.
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‘So your aunt usually stays in this room?’ Kayla asks, looking around at the pink and green room, her eyes alighting on the guitar propped in the corner.
‘Yeah’ Victoria says, sitting down on the bed ‘usually. Other people stay in it too, but Aunt Bea always stays in this room.’
‘Right’ Kayla says, sitting down beside Victoria and running her hand over the cover ‘are your dads always like that?’
‘Like what?’ Victoria asks.
‘Like they’re just there’ Kayla says, waving her hands around as if looking for the words ‘they don’t yell at you for being at a party, they come pick us all up, they offer to make pancakes. Are they not going to scream at you, at some point?’
‘Em… no’ Victoria says, trying to meet her friend’s eye ‘no, they don’t yell. Especially not when we were at a party they knew about, and you needed help. They would have been more annoyed if we hadn’t called them.’
Victoria shifts over and hesitantly puts her arm around Kayla, waiting until she slackens rather than push Victoria away.
‘So, when do they yell?’
‘They don’t’ Victoria says again ‘they never yell at us. When I was like five, one time I dropped a glass by accident, and I moved and Papa yelled at me to stay still so I wouldn’t step in it. I burst into tears, and he picked me up and hugged me and gave me ice cream. I can’t think of anything besides that.’
‘God,’ Kayla says, looking up at the ceiling ‘every time I come over, they’re just always here, offering snacks and a ride home, and letting you take over the big TV. I thought they were just being nice in front of company.’
‘No’ Victoria smiles ‘no, they’re just like that. They’ve always been exceedingly present.’
‘Exceedingly present’ Kayla repeats quietly to herself.
‘Girls’ Papa calls ‘breakfast is ready.’
‘Come on’ Victoria says, standing up and holding out her hand ‘let’s go have some pancakes.’