Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They were supposed to be studying physics.  Exams were in two weeks and, to quote Miss Quill, You lot may have saved the world, but I can, and will, still fail you.  So April had organized a study session, which was really just insisting that they bring their physics books to Charlie’s house for what had become their normal Saturday afternoon gathering.  That had been easy enough, but the actual studying was harder.  They started strong, but twenty minutes in all productivity went out the window.

“What’s the point of trying to study?” Ram asked from his spot on the sofa next to her.  “She’s just going to throw a bunch of equations on the board—half of which won’t even be from the book—and tell us to SOLVE IT.”

They all laughed at his impression, and April forced herself to be serious.  “We can at least study the ones in the book.”

“We’ll need Tanya’s help for that.”  Ram looked from April to Charlie.  “Wait, shouldn’t you be some kind of physics whiz with all your advanced knowledge?”

“He is no help,” Mattuesz said from where he was sprawled on the floor next to Charlie who sat with a rigid back and perfect posture.  “I tried to have him explain it once and he was worse than Miss Quill.”

“Hey!” Charlie protested. 

His face remained in a pout until Matteusz nudged his leg affectionately with his foot, which turned his pout into a sappy smile.  Ram opened his mouth to say something, but April nudged him with her foot and he closed it.  These boys would be the death of her.  She needed Tanya.

“When will they be back from the gym?”

Charlie shrugged. “Quill just says they’ll be gone as long as they need.”

“Where do they go?” Ram asked.  “Because I can’t picture any gym letting a woman that pregnant fight.”

“School auditorium,” Matteusz said. 

“Makes sense," Ram said with a nod. "Everyone there is too afraid to bother her.

April didn't much care where Miss Quill and Tanya had gone to 'train,' especially when there were more pressing questions. “How pregnant is she?” she asked.  Her mum had guessed somewhere in the ninth month, but April had no idea human pregnancy months even applied here.  “Does she know when she’s due?”

“Current estimate is 8 to 12 days,” Charlie told her.

April looked around the room, which looked the same as it always did—i.e., it contained nothing remotely baby related. “Seriously?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

April ignored is literalism.  “Are you even ready for a baby?  Has she bought anything for it?”

“No,” Charlie said with a shake of his head. “She keeps saying why buy a layette when it might not even be human shaped?”

“My impression was better,” Ram muttered.

Matteusz, after checking to see if Charlie was looking at him, nodded in agreement. April ignored both of them.

“The baby will still need nappies and a place to sleep,” she argued.

“That is what I say,” Mattuesz agreed.  “But she responds that Amazon Prime has one day delivery.”

“And it’s not really any of our business,” Ram added.

Matteusz nodded at that.  “She says that too.”

“But you both live here.  The baby’s going to be your business whether she wants it or not,” April reasoned.  “Besides, it’s weird that she hasn’t done anything.  You’d think she’d at least be nesting.”

“We’re supposed to act like humans.”  Charlie looked at her with utter confusion.  “Why would she build a nest?”

April did her best to hide her surprise.  “It’s an expression for when mums start decorating and buying things for the baby.”

Ram had far less tact.  “You meant actual nest?  Is that what your people do?”

“Not Rhodians, but the Quill.”

Ram pulled a face as he tried to picture it.  April elbowed him gently.  He didn’t get the hint. 

“So you’re saying that Miss Quill was born in a nest?” he asked.

April cringed at his question (despite her own curiosity).  She looked at Mattuesz who gave her a half-shrug that said ‘you tried.’  Charlie, for his part, was not bothered—sometimes his obliviousness worked in his favor.

“I assume so,” Charlie said.  “All Quill are.”

“Like a bird’s nest?” Ram asked and April elbowed him harder.

“They only built them on the lower continent.  It was never safe for me to travel there, so I’ve never seen one up close,” Charlie explained.  “But they’re supposed to be large—size of this room at least.”

“You should probably stop talking.”

The all jumped at the sound of another voice entering the room.  Thankfully, it was Tanya, but they all expected to see an irate Miss Quill walk in behind her. April briefly considered ducking behind a pillow while Charlie looked particularly panicked, which was fair since he'd bear the brunt of Miss Quill's wrath. 

“She went to the shop,” Tanya explained with a smirk as she dropped her backpack on the table.  Digging through her bag for her physics books, she continued, “Said you were out of mushy peas and that I needed to study.”

“She ate a whole tin smothered over fish yesterday,” Matteusz explained.

“Cravings,” April concluded.  “AKA a normal non-alien pregnancy thing. This pregnancy is not as unusual as she claims.”  She turned to Tanya.  “Has she said anything to you about buying baby stuff?”

“Just that Amazon Prime has one day delivery.”

“See,” Mattuesz chimed in.  “I told you.”

“This is ridiculous. She’ll need things whether she wants to admit it or not,” April said decisively.  “We’ll throw her a baby shower.”

Tanya, Matteusz, and Ram burst out laughing.  Charlie looked confused.

“It’s your funeral,” Ram said.

Chapter Text

Quill was exhausted.  She and Tanya had sparred for barely forty minutes (twenty minutes of their usual hour had been spent with Quill correcting the girl’s form while she kicked) and she was drained.  She should be grateful.  If this were a litter, she’d be too tired to get out of bed at this stage—all of her strength going to sustaining the fetuses.   Still, it was hard to be grateful when her weird human ankles were swollen and making her favorite heels uncomfortable.

Not that she would stop wearing them or admit that to anyone, of course.  She was sure Tanya had suspected, the girl was rather perceptive and the twenty minute kicking critique made things fairly obvious.  The girl was smart enough not to comment.

“Wait!”

But she wasn’t smart enough to let Quill enter her house without interruption. 

“What?” she snapped back.  Her hand remained on the door handle, but she didn’t try to open it.

“Before you go in, you have to promise me something.”

“I don’t make promises.”

Quill moved to open the door but Tanya inserted herself between her and it.

“Just promise you won’t kill any of us.”

She suppressed a groan. “What has your little squad done now?”

“No killing.”

“Why?”

“Just nod your head if you agree not to kill anyone.”

Quill rolled her eyes and nodded. “But only because I don’t feel like having to find somewhere to hide a body tonight.”

“Good enough.”  Tanya opened the door for her.  “After you.”

“SURPRISE!”

Quill was neither surprised nor amused.  Sure, she hadn’t expected to walk in to find balloons and paper streamers filling the kitchen and lounge, but it wasn’t entirely a surprise to see this many decorations when April was involved.  The brunette was positively beaming.  The others wore smiles as well—except for the prince, who just looked apprehensive.  He may have more sense than she gave him credit for.

“What is all this?”

“No killing,” Tanya whispered as she brushed by her to join her friends.  “You nodded, remember?”

“It’s your baby shower,” April said brightly.  Her smile somehow managed to widen further.

Quill raised an eyebrow. “Is it going to rain babies?”

“It’s a party,” April clarified.  Yeah, Quill had grasped that much.  She glared at the girl, whose smile barely wavered.  “For you and the baby.”

That still didn’t explain the name.  The concept of a party for a new mother wasn’t foreign to her.  Well, it was completely foreign in the sense that it was nothing like any Quill traditions, but it was something she had seen online before her disgust for the “mommy blogs” resulted in her almost throwing her tablet across the room.  Humans were weird.  She forced her attention back to the human teenagers in the room with her.  They were waiting for a reaction from her.  Quill chose to glare harder.

“It was all her idea,” Ram said, jerking his thumb at April.  Clearly teenage love only brought so much loyalty.

“Thanks for the support,” April muttered, which prompted an immediate chastised look from Ram.  Maybe she should give teenage love more credit.

Ram held up a package.  “We got you presents.”

Quill considered her options.  Blow them off and go upstairs (which would not get any of them to leave her house) or indulge them (which might get them to leave the slightest bit sooner).  Sighing, she rolled her eyes and sat down at the kitchen table.

“Well, give them here.”

It turns out that getting her presents meant getting it presents.  Bottles, nappies, burp cloths and clothing—all things a Quill baby wouldn’t need (and that she could easily order online if she did).  She didn’t know what a Lorr baby would need, but she hoped it would be none of this—although with her luck, a half-Lorr baby would be just as helpless as a human one and need all this nonsense. 

Still, the teenagers had tried and much of what they gave her was covered in cats, so Quill nodded thanks at each of them.  There were no gifts, however, from the freeloaders who lived with her. 

“What about you two?”

Charles avoided her glare, but Matteusz looked at her and smiled.  “Upstairs.”

Quill sighed and stood up.  She gestured at the boys to lead the way to the stairs.  She followed them and the rest trailed behind her.  Because, of course, they had to do everything as a group.

The destination of this little walk was her bedroom—more specifically, her closed bedroom door, in front of which they both stood, effectively blocking her entrance.

“Close your eyes,” Matteusz instructed.

“I followed you upstairs.  I will not close my eyes.”

“But we could not wrap it.”

Again, it was the Polish One who spoke while the prince said nothing.  He was uncharacteristically quiet and still avoiding eye contact with her.  This didn’t actually bother her, even if it was mildly suspicious.

“You think I care?” she asked tiredly.  “Open it or I will.”  That worked and they stepped aside for her to walk in.

The first thing she noticed was that her vanity had been moved to another wall and that it had been replaced by what her online research told her was a changing table.  Gods did she hope she wouldn’t need that.  Next to it was a baby cot, but it wasn’t one of those pale pastel bassinets with painted white wood.  It had wooden slats, but they were finished only with some kind of glaze so that the planks appeared knotted and natural.  The legs weren’t rectangles of wood either—they were carved into branches that curved and twisted.

“What is this?” she asked.

“A place to sleep,” Matteusz answered.  “Charlie found it.”

“He did?”

Quill turned to look at the prince to find him staring at her intently—like he was trying to figure out her reaction before having one himself. 

“I saw it and it seemed like…”

“Yeah,” she said when he trailed off. 

He didn’t have to say the word for her to know what he meant.  Quill took a few steps forward so she could run her fingers along the largest of the “branches.”  This one arched upwards and stretched over the top of the cot.  It wasn’t a nest.  It was nothing near a nest.  And yet… Damn it, she thought when she realized her eyes were becoming damp.  

“Why don’t we…” 

April’s sentence trailed off into a shuffle of footsteps as the teenagers left.  All but one.  Quill discreetly wiped her eyes and turned around.  She looked at him levelly.

“Not bad, Prince.”

“It should have something like home.”

“Rhodia will never be its home.”

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have it.”

She nodded solemnly in response.  God this conversation had gotten serious.  Quill turned back to the cot and studied the stars dangling from the branch that stretched over the top of it.  Two were natural wood but the others were painted.  She flicked the one painted yellow (it had a swirl of purple that looked vaguely like a one of those music symbols) with her finger. 

“What’s with these?” she asked.

“Matteusz’s idea.  The unpainted ones are for you and…and the father.”

“Ballon.”

He looked at her in surprise.  Quill shrugged.  If he was going to be thoughtful, she might as well tell him the name of the father.  Her death was unlikely but not impossible; there should be someone who could tell it the name of its father.  The prince, to his credit, did not comment any further on this revelation.

“The painted ones,” he continued.  “Are for its Earth family.”

Quill raised an eyebrow.  “Family?”

“Matteusz’s words, not mine,” he said with a shrug.  “Its Earth people then.”

“There are only four.”  Quill looked at him expectantly.  “Matteusz would have insisted you make one too.”

“And I told him you wouldn’t want it on there.”

She rolled her eyes and held out her hand.  “Give it here, Charles.”

He pulled it from his pocket and handed it to her.  Quill dangled it between her fingers for a minute, enjoying the confusion on his face as she did.  The star was painted with smaller stars.  Not just any stars, but a constellation from their galaxy that was best seen from the lower continent—he was such a sap.  Quill turned abruptly and tied it to the branch with the others.

“You’ll be a part of its life whether I want you to or not.  You may as well have a star with the others,” she said as she finished knotting the twine.  “This doesn’t make us family.”

“Of course not.”

“For once we agree.”  Quill expected him to leave, but he just stared at her.  “Well, go back to your friends and tell Matteusz I hung your star.”

“He said you would.”

“He thinks he knows everything.”  When he still didn’t move, Quill waved her hand at him.  “Now go on.”

“The party’s not over.”

“It is for me.”

“It’s your party.”

“So?”

“There’s chocolate cake.”

Quill sighed.  She could deal with their cheery faces if it meant cake.  “Fine.”

It turned out getting cake required the playing of games.  Charles had conveniently left that detail out.  Which, to be fair, was probably for the best—she may have pushed him down the stairs and locked herself in her room had she known.  The first game involved guessing the type of candy bar that was smashed into nappies.  It was revolting, and criminal waste of chocolate, but Quill indulged them and played.  The teenagers performed miserably.  She had a perfect score.

“I have played your game.  Now where is my cake?”

April nudged Tanya and the girls got up to head to the kitchen and brought the cake to the kitchen—not the couch where she was sat.  Weren’t they supposed to be catering to her at this party?  Sighing, she stood up and walked to the table to look at the mountain of blue frosting (along with bright yellow stars and a fuchsia spaceship) that covered the cake. 

“Blast-Off to Baby,” Quill read from the frosting.

“CLOTHESPIN,” Ram shouted.  Matteusz’ voice echoed the same word a half-second later.

Quill looked at him in confusion and then remembered the clothespin April had handed her when she had come back downstairs.  It was for one of the games.  The rules of which Quill had promptly forgotten as soon as April had thrust the thing into her hand. 

She handed the clothespin to him and studied the frosting spaceship.  It looked nothing like a craft that would allow for serious space travel.  And the outer space theme was hardly creative.  “It’s nice to see you didn’t expend too many brain cells on the theme.”

“It is cute,” Matteusz said.

Quill rolled her eyes.  “Whatever.”

Thankfully, Tanya started cutting the cake and placed a large piece on plate for Quill.  Matteusz handed her a glass of milk.  He was perpetually trying to give her things that were good for a human pregnancy, regardless of how many times she reminded him that she was not human.  She took the cake and milk back to the sofa without waiting for the teenagers to get theirs. They, of course, followed her and gathered in the lounge. 

“Next game…” April said brightly and began explaining something about having fifteen seconds to stare at items belonging in a baby changing bag.  Quill rolled her eyes and tuned out the rest, until a pad of paper appeared in front of her.  “Here’s yours, Miss Quill.”

“Hard pass.”

“But…”

“I’m not playing some game about a bunch of things that this probably won’t even need,” she said, pointing at her stomach for emphasis.  “Not human, remember?”

“It’s just a game.”

Quill shifted on the sofa so she could prop her feet up (nearly pushing off Tanya in the process). “And you children can play it.”

It wasn’t just one game—there were nearly a half-dozen more.  There was guessing the price of the various items they had just memorized (which made Quill realize how bloody expensive having a baby would be—it made little sense why this species would bankrupt the person who was reproducing to support it—not that she would be supporting a human, but the argument remained valid).  Another involved creating nappies out of toilet tissue for a series of dolls (clearly from April’s own childhood collection). 

“We need you to judge them,” April had insisted once they were finished.

Quill eyed them—and their dolls—skeptically. “Based on what?”

“Whatever criteria you want,” she said with a smile.  “Style, creativity, practicality…”

“You all win,” Quill said, cutting off what was sure to be a very long list from April.

“No way,” Ram argued.  “You can’t say that.  Charlie’s ripped when he tried to pin it and Tanya’s is just wrapped like a mummy.”

“So?” Tanya said with a shrug.  “I don’t do nappies in baby or doll form.”

“We need a winner,” Matteusz agreed.  “April is keeping score.”

“Of course, she is.”  Quill sighed.  “Someone bring me crisps and then I’ll do it.”

Matteusz and Ram both jumped up and headed to kitchen, while bickering about the other trying to bribe the judge.  Apparently they were the two with the most points.  It was Matteusz who ended up bringing the crisps, but Ram brought her a glass of punch—so it was even bribery.  Not that she was going to be swayed by food (although she did file ‘forcing them into competition’ as a method of getting them to do things for her in the future). Ultimately she awarded the points to Ram because he had managed to incorporate ruffles into his tissue nappy.  Quill didn’t approve of unnecessary ruffles a matter of course, but it did match the frilly frock the doll wore. Fashion was important.

No matter the game, the five of them threw themselves into it with exuberance—even the one that involved tasting the unappetizing mashed baby food (because of course human babies were born without teeth).  They had the same reaction the one that resulted in Matteusz shouting “MY WATER BROKE” and pulling a plastic baby from his drink (which incidentally also dashed her hopes that the plastic baby half-frozen in an ice cube in her own glass was part of some drowning ritual).  That one had resulted in gales of laughter and Ram pouting while holding his own nearly completely unfrozen plastic baby.

Their enthusiasm wasn’t exactly contagious, but Quill found admirable in its own way.  These humans fought in a battle and still managed to smile, laugh, and act like daft fools together despite their scars.  Even Charles—who still spent most of his time brooding rather than accepting his sorrow like a true warrior—was laughing as they raced to wrapped April’s baby dolls like tiny egg rolls. There was a word for what they were doing and she was half-tempted to look it up, but when she unlocked her phone the prospect of ordering actual eggrolls was much more appealing than finding out what humans called the egg roll wrapping of their offspring.  Glancing at the teenagers, who were now watching April count clothespins and tally final points, she increased her order to include enough for the entire group.

“It’s a tie,” April announced.

“What?”  Matteusz and Charles said in near unison.  Having failed on his own, the prince was clearly eager to share in his boyfriend’s victory.

“Don’t you have another game?” Ram asked.

“All out,” April said sheepishly.

“I know that face,” Ram argued.  It was hard not to know that face.  April was as subtle as a flare gun.  “You’re lying.”

“There’s one more, but Miss Quill won’t like it.”

Quill looked up from her phone. “What have I done to give you the impression that I’ve liked any of these?”

April, to her credit, ignored the comment.  “But you really won’t like this one.”

“We can’t have a tie,” Ram argued and Matteusz nodded in agreement.  “We need to know the winner.”

“Is there even a prize for this?”  Quill asked.  “Or is it just pointless competition."

“Yes, well sort of," April said vaguely.  "And there’s a lot of honor in the title.”

“Of baby shower king,” Tanya said derisively before Quill could. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t want me to win,” Ram argued.

Tanya rolled her eyes, but Quill could tell she was invested in Ram’s win.  That alone wasn’t reason enough to allow another game, but perhaps she could get something else out of this.  “How about the winner gets the title and gets to make the runner up do something.”

“Like what?” Matteusz asked warily.

Quill held up her phone.  “Send him to pick up the Chinese takeaway I just ordered.”

“You ordered food?” April asked looking as if Quill had just attacking her personally by way of finding her party's menu inadequate.  “But we have…”

“Snacks,” Quill finished for her.  “Baby carrots, cake, and crisps do not make a meal.”

“There are also Jelly Babies,” Ram pointed out as he popped one into his mouth.

“Also not food,” Quill said, but her words were interrupted by Matteusz’ shout.

“CLOTHESPIN.”

“Jelly Babies is a proper noun and, even if it wasn’t, the game requires you to use the singular and not plural form of the word.  Don’t try to cheat.”

Matteusz was about to argue back, but Quill held up her hand.  “I’m sure to regret this, but just start your last game.”

The regret was pretty much immediate.  The final game required the boys cutting ribbon in a length that they thought would wrap around her stomach.  Yeah, she definitely hated this game.  After deliberating and giving her one too many looks, they each cut their ribbons and held them up.  Reluctantly, she stood up and wrapped each around her waist.  Ram’s was clearly too short (which was probably a safer choice than going too big) while Matteusz’s was (scarily) accurate.  Ram had argued that the game wasn’t fair since Matteusz saw her way more than he did, but his arguments had faded when he learned that the prize was a crown made out of a nappy.  April might have too much time on her hands.   Maybe they needed more homework.  Matteusz donned the crown with pride, causing the others to laugh and Quill to roll her eyes. 

She felt a series of kicks—hopefully they were out of annoyance over the raucous laughter rather than an attempt to join in—and absently rubbed her stomach in the spot until the movement stilled.  Quill still found it strange—that there was this living thing inside her that seemed to respond to her touch.  It would be out soon—a thing that would exist independent of her, yet be her sole responsibility.  Back on Rhodia, Quill children were raised in the community until they were old enough to attend school under the care of a matron.  The practice was, in part, a product of necessity since a single father could not raise a litter of Quills on his own, but it was also something that knitted the clan together—made them stronger.  But there were no more clans—there was only her—this was it. 

Her gaze drifted to the teenagers.  Ram was trying to convince April to go to the Chinese shop with him and Tanya was helping Matteusz make something out of one of the extra nappies.  A smaller crown, it turned out, for the prince.  He wore it with a little too much excitement for her liking, but she expected no less.   This was it, she realized.  It wasn’t a family or clan, but they would be its community. 

Just then, Ram snorted with laughter over the pair royal nappy wearers while April snapped a picture on her phone. 

Yeah, this really was it.  Her community—such as it was.