Chapter Text
3:08 AM.
Colt groaned awake as the nerves in his back pinched and ached. That fall, on top of jumping through glass windows and getting hit by cars, did a number on his aging body. It was not taking the injuries well after years of being a stuntman to Ryder. He carefully sat up in bed, careful not to wake Jody, who was snoring softly with her mouth slightly ajar and blond curls draped over the pillow. Colts' eyes traveled to her bump under her arm, housing their son.
Ryland.
Named after his twin.
He still couldn't believe his brother was somewhere in space, sent to his death. Forced to sacrifice himself for the good of humanity by that woman Stratt.
It took a while for her to be on Colt's good side. If it weren't for her being truly remorseful when he talked to - well, more like yelled profanities at her (that almost got him kicked out), when he visited her in prison Colt would never talk to her again. When she broke down in tears, begging for forgiveness, Colt realized she only did what she genuinely thought was right and would save the whole of humanity.
Including bombing Antarctica, but that's a whole other moral dilemma.
Quietly as he could, Colt carefully pushed the duvet off him and stood to his full height which caused a sharp wince. His back convulsed as his muscles stretched. Glancing over, the stuntman gazed as his gorgeous wife continued sleeping, not disturbed by his sounds. His wife, the mother of his son, the only thing holding him together. The day Rylie was forced to the ground, pleading for his life, Jody held Colt as he sobbed. He really would be dead without her. Blowing out a breath he slowly shuffled into the living room to make his way to the kitchen for some coffee and Tylenol.
When the coffee machine beeped and the liquid gold was piping hot, Grace sat at the kitchen table with two blue tablets and his steaming mug. Popping the pills he downed half of the mug, the hot liquid warming his throat. The quiet of the apartment washed over Colt, the pain in his back not yet gone. Sighing, he hung his head in his hands. Rylie's panicked voice echoed in his head…
“No! No, don't do it!”
“Colt! Help me! I don't want to go! Make them stop!”
“Hey…” Colts’ head snapped up, Jody slowly approaching the table with a worried smile. Her hands were on her back as she waddled closer, bump hidden by an oversized black Metalstorm merch T - shirt. Her accent is thick with sleep. “What are ya doin’ up?”
Rubbing his eyes, Colt sat up. “Just… couldn't sleep. Back pain.” He sighs and looks up at Jody, reaching out a hand. “C'mere.”
Smiling wider, Jody takes his hand and lets Colt pull her close. Being the same height as her midsection, Colt rested his face against her bump. The baby gives a gentle kick, earning a chuckle and kiss from Colt.
“He wake you up?” Colt teased.
“Yeah,” Jody gave an amused huff as she played with Colt's fluffy hair. “He woke me up by kicking my bloody bladder. I got up to pee and I realized you weren't in bed.”
Silence settled over them, Colt not moving his head. He let his eyes closed, feeling the rise and fall of each breath Jody took as well as the movements of their son.
“I've been thinking about him…”
The words came out in a mumbled, but Jody understood on every level.
Losing your twin, watching him get chased and sedated and sent to space to die wasn't easy to deal with. Colt spent many nights crying in his sleep, not able to eat or drink. It was months before he was even somewhat okay, and when they found out Jody was pregnant he realized he HAD to be okay.
For them.
When he suggested their son should be named Ryland, she finally saw the light and joy return to his eyes and she simply had to agree.
She tilted his head to look up at her, eyes tender and understanding. “Your brother would be so proud of you, and I just know you're going to be a great Daddy.”
Bending down Jody planted a gentle kiss to his forehead and allowed his head to rest against her belly again, tears wetting her shirt.