#mauvecatfic

[marmolady]

Grandchildren: Beatriz

Summary: Endless Ending timeline. Middle-aged Taylor and Estela are entering a new phase of their life together, welcoming their grandchildren into the family. In four parts; this is PART THREE.

Word Count: 3496

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, ​@mauvecatfic @rhemenway888

Thanks for reading!

__________________________

2060

Taylor placed down a plate of cookies on the coffee table, and sat alongside her heavily pregnant daughter.

“I know it sucks for you to not be able to fix everything,” Liv said, looking up to her mother with a grateful smile, “but don’t think your tending to my cravings isn’t appreciated.”

Liv was some seven months along, her belly huge and rounded. Heavy bags under her eyes gave away her lack of sleep, the worrying that had kept her awake long into the night. Her unborn baby, a daughter, had long passed the danger period where a miscarriage was a high risk, but she would not truly relax before the infant was in her arms. After all, the last time… the baby had been four months along, she should have been okay…. Most days Liv felt she was barely functioning, even with all the support her family, and Jeimy, could offer.

“I’ve felt so awful,” Liv admitted. “I let the blonde fade out… I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean--?” Then Taylor realised. The blonde streak Liv had always dyed into her hair… making the point of having at least a bit of her look like the mom she had no biological link to. “God, Livi, you don’t have to keep doing your hair a certain way to prove our relationship to me!”

Liv winced. “See, I know that logically, but it’s not about logic, it’s about feeling. It’s been since I was so little, it feels like I’m throwing something away… something important.” She sniffed and looked away, lost in a dark place. Was there anyone she didn’t feel she’d let down?

“You’re carrying a lot, sweetheart. Let that one go.” She tenderly stroked her daughter’s short hair. “If it makes you happy, keep in the blonde, but do it for you, not out of any fear of hurting me. I’m secure in myself, and in my role as your mom… so take that load off, all right?”

“I’m just… finding it hard. Harder than I expected, which is stupid, I should’ve known I wasn’t ready for this….”

Taylor kept stroking her fingers through Liv’s hair. There was nothing she could say that would take away the fear, or the grief that still lingered.

“Some people believe,” she said quietly, “that the soul doesn’t fully attach itself to the body until the moment of birth. If the baby’s born sleeping, the soul waits for another little life. I don’t know if it might help… to imagine a piece of Avis might be with you and Beatriz now.”

Liv’s eyes grew wide and watery. “I want her with us,” she whispered. “More than anything.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I feel… I feel guilty sometimes even just for being excited about Bea coming. And I feel guilty that I’ve got this far carrying Bea when Jeimy had to go through that loss….”

“Sweetheart,” Taylor said, clutching her daughter’s hand. “You both went through it. It’s different, but your grief is real. Jeimy loves you, and they love Bea.”

Liv wept and snuggled into her mom’s shoulder, taking comfort there until her tears slowed.

“Mom… there’s something else. I need to check you’re okay with something….”

“I’m listening.”

“Well,” Liv wiped her face, righting herself a little, so she could look her mother in the face and read her. “We’d really like to use ‘Estela’ as Bea’s middle name.”

“Beatriz Estela Montoya? That’s pretty. That’s really pretty, swetheart. You were worried I’d be hurt?”

“I know we named Andi after you, but ‘Andromeda’ isn’t your actual name….”

Taylor laughed, and kissed Liv’s head. “Is this to get out of naming a dog ‘Draco’? You silly goose, didn’t I just tell you I’m secure in what we’ve got? Bea’s name is beautiful.”

Liv breathed a little sigh of relief. “Thanks-- we really like it.”

“She’s going to be really touched.” Taylor stroked the side of Liv’s face, adoring her. She could be a worrywart, her girl, but with what life had thrown at her in recent years, Taylor couldn’t blame her. Through it all, Liv was strong and kind, giving more of herself than she probably should, but somehow retaining her joie-de-vivre, her sparkle, dulled though it was on the darkest of days. “I love you, Livi,” she said. “I love you so much.”

And she hugged her, willing herself to somehow lend strength and courage where her daughter needed it-- if only it were that simple.

“It’s going to be okay.”

_________________________

It was pointless to keep checking her phone-- the message and ring tones had been set to blaringly loud so nothing could possibly be missed-- but that didn’t stop Taylor.

“Who you talking to, Grandma?” Andi asked, peering over Taylor’s shoulder.

Taylor hastily put it beside her on the floor. “No one, no one! Promise.”

Young Sol belly-crawled along the rug towards his grandma, then put himself in her lap.

“Hey, kiddo-- don’t worry, you’ve got my attention.”

“How many hours does it take for a baby to be born? They’ve been at the hospital all day!”

“Well, it depends. Sometimes, a baby will be in a big hurry to get out and it can happen in a couple of hours. Sometimes… it could even be a couple of days.”

“Days!” the two kids said in unison. It always tickled both Taylor and Estela that the two had an almost twin-like connection, their births only two days apart and inseparable since. Andi had often said ‘we basically are twins’ and no one could convince her otherwise.

How would another child fit into this dynamic? From the early days, Andi had been fascinated by her unborn sibling, talking about her constantly, while Sol barely seemed to register that a mammoth change was afoot. Until now, with his mom and nanay in the hospital, and not coming back until they had a baby to bring home.

“But,” Taylor added quickly, “last time your mom had a baby it was only five hours after she got to the hospital that Andi was born, and usually it’s faster once the mom’s already had a baby.”

“So, baby Bea could be being born right now?” Andi asked, reaching for her grandma’s phone. “And then they’ll ring and tell us?”

“She could be. And yes, they will. We’re just going to have to be patient.”

Andi huffed out a frustrated exhale. “Being patient is so hard! I wish we knew what was happening.”

“I know, mija,” Estela said as she came into the room with a plate of cocadas-- just how her mom used to make them. “Trust me, we’re all going a little crazy waiting for news. It’s just something we’ve gotta deal with.”

A tasty treat easily placated the easy-going Sol, who hummed to himself as he chewed, still sat in Taylor’s lap. Andi, though, wolfed hers down in what felt like seconds, and went straight back to asking after her mom and nanay. It was a challenge and a half, Taylor had to admit, to entertain two five-year-olds when one was completely incapable of thinking about anything other than the imminent arrival themselves.

Estela gave her wife a look. An understanding, ‘it’s driving me crazy too’ look. An ‘I’m with you’ look.

“Solito,” Estela said, determined to be distracted from worrying, and to have the kids distracted from worrying, “go and grab some paper and pens-- we can make some ‘welcome home’ posters for baby Bea-- good practice for your writing.”

Sol jumped up immediately, almost clocking his grandma in the chin as he got to his feet as was his enthusiasm. Reading and writing was a new skill, and one he was mighty proud of. He ran off, and as was typical, Andi was not far behind him.

It was hard not to be brought back to the kids’ mom learning to read and write. Liv had started a bit earlier, keen as she’d been to keep up with the older Reggie-- with whom she was inseperable. Liv would forever play with her alphabet fridge magnets; she took them with her from La Huerta, to San Trobida, to the States. Estela didn’t have any regrets about that rather fast-changing period in her daughter’s life… they’d given what stability they could, but it had never been possible to have a single true ‘home’. For these kids, though, home was San Trobida, a vastly different place to that the young Liv had known, and for Estela, it was barely recognisable as the war-torn country she grew up in. For baby Beatriz as well, the civil war and the horrors that came with it would just be a story told by her abuela, and a history lesson as she went through her schooling, as distant and irrelevent as the 2020 pandemic and dial-up internet.

Good for her.

Then Estela perched herself on the edge of the couch, only half-relaxing, for she could need to spring to action at a moment’s notice.

As if it had been waiting for the kids to leave the room, Estela’s phone rang, and she was up on her feet in an instant.

“Jeimy?” she asked too loudly. You’re gonna have to calm down…. She put the phone on speaker, though Taylor was right up by her ear so it probably wasn’t even necessary.

“She’s here-- they’re both doing great!” Jeimy cried down the phone, almost garbled in their excitement.

“The baby’s here? The baby--” Of course, the baby. Estela just laughed as relief and flooded her body. “Congratulations, Lorito,” she managed to get out. “Oh my god….”

“Pretty much what I said!” Jeimy laughed, ecstatic. “Beatriz is here, and she’s just divine.”

“Oh, Jeimy,” Taylor said, “you know it’s torture I can’t send you a hug down the phone, right?”

But even with the distance she could feel the happiness that radiated forth, and knew the same would be received. Then, the inevitable happened, and Taylor had to contend with tears streaming down her face. Her baby’s baby was here-- there was no way she wasn’t crying.

“H-how was it? Quicker than last time at least.”

“Everything went smoothly; I almost can’t believe it. It’s like… it’s like all the tension’s gone now… the scariest part is over. Liv’s feeling a bit wrecked for talking right now, but she’s happy. So, so happy.”

“Can we… can we tell the kids?”

Jeimy laughed, giddy. “Yeah, go ahead! We’ll get you to bring them down to the hospital soon-- we can’t wait to see them, just want to make sure Livi rests a little first.”

“Just… enjoy the peace and quiet with your little baby, okay?”

“And kisses for everyone from us, all right, mijo?”

“I’ll see to it-- I’ll see to it. You’ll give the kids a big squeeze from us as well! Love you-- love you-- bye!”

Estela hung up the phone and squealed, pulling a laughing Taylor into her arms for the tightest of hugs.

“We’ve got another granddaughter!” Taylor wept.

________________________

Liv’s eyelids were heavy as she watched the babe’s chest rise and fall. Their little Beatriz had made it earthside. There was no doubt in Liv’s mind; there would be no more babies for her and Jeimy. She couldn’t handle the rollercoaster. It would be her, and Jeimy, and Andi and Sol, and Beatriz… and that was all she’d ever need.

Safe and swaddled in her crib, an arm’s reach away from her exhausted mother, Beatriz had drifted off easily. Even bruised and swollen from the delivery, there was so much character in her little face.

“She looks like Sol did,” Liv whispered. “Not quite as much hair.”

At Liv’s other side, Jeimy was serene, sat up against their pillow. “I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for nine months,” they admitted. “It’s nice to breathe again.”

“I know the feeling,” Liv said. “At this point I’ll welcome the sleepless nights with open arms-- I’m just so relieved to have her here.”

Jeimy scooched closer and stroked Liv’s face. “How are you feeling? Physically, I mean.”

Liv looked up at them with a loving smile. “Very sore, very tired.”

Worth it, she thought, and she turned back to once again admire the little life she’d brought into the world. Oh my god, you are worth it.

____________________________

“Surely, no parent of a newborn in history has ever thought ‘oh, let’s have a party-- I could use some further disruption of my sleep patterns!” Aleister proclaimed. “And yet,” he added, “here we are.”

“I think ‘party’ is a strong word,” Taylor said. “Just a little get-together; good company, barbecue, and some fruit punch.”

Jeimy came over and hugged their uncle-in-law, welcoming him into the backyard, set up with lights and tables. “We’re not completely crazy; doing this at home means Liv and I can bolt upstairs with the baby and hide away at the drop of a hat. And if anyone was gonna disturb us, Mama ‘Stel would sort them out. Besides-- we’re not entertaining or anything, hence having everyone bring a plate and do their own dishes. Surrounding ourselves with love, but with as little of the hassle as possible.”

Aleister chuckled. “I can’t say I don’t still think you’re quite mad but… I see some of the appeal.”

Jeimy met his eye. “It means a lot Reggie coming home for us. I can’t say how much Liv’s missed him.”

“However all-singing-and-dancing the technology may get, it’s never the same as in person, is it? I hope it does Liv good,” he said sincerely. Aleister had been close to Liv all her life, for she and his own child Reggie had been something of a dynamic duo since before either could remember. She was his niece and he loved her, and through her mental health struggles he’d wished he could do more. It had been easier to be there for Estela, knowing that his support had helped her to be there for Liv. Reggie, he knew, was the healing balm that old Uncle Al could never be.

Thankfully, in the minds of the two parents of the new baby, the gathering had been able to be kept small and quiet-- certainly by the standards set by their ever-growing extended family. Naturally, Estela and Taylor were there, and Rosa with toddler Leo. Diego had made the trip from La Huerta a week prior, an additional support for Liv and Jeimy. Sean and Jake’s son Michael, proud donor uncle to baby Beatriz, as well as Liv’s older two children and Rosa’s unborn baby, was along for the fun; he’d taken up position as Chief of Fun and was keeping Andi and Sol out from their exhausted parents’ feet. His fiance and Michelle and Quinn’s youngest, Conor, was there to offer him assistance with the kids. Reggie was the guest of honour, the reason this whole thing was even happening-- and his sisters with their respective families, and Aleister and Grace rounded out the guestlist.

The back door swung open.

“Here she is!” Liv cried, stepping out with, cradled in her arms, a tiny bundle of baby in a puffy floral dress and a great big bow.

Michael turned to Jeimy and laughed. “What happened to the ‘gender neutral’ thing you were doing?”

“Hey. Flowers are for any and all genders.” Jeimy rolled their eyes teasingly. “Anyway, we gave up with the unisex name-- Spanish names are so damn gendered-- so thought ‘screw it, just put her in dresses if we like them’.”

“She looks cute,” Michael said, “but she’s gonna have to grow into that bow.” He held out his arms. “Cuddle with Uncle Michael?”

Liv chuckled, and carefully passed over the baby. As little Beatriz was placed in his arms, Michael absolutely beamed. There was no doubt he’d be as besotted over this kid as he was Andi and Sol.

“Damn, she’s cute!” he exclaimed. “You people are making me want a baby so bad. I’m pretty lucky to be a ‘donor uncle’ in the meantime, hey?”

“And we really appreciate it,” Liv was quick to say. Michael had basically given her the family she loved so much, and there were simply no words for what that meant. What was more, he’d given Liv’s Mama Taylor a genetic tie to her grandchildren-- a sort of link she’d once only dreamed of. Their family was unconventional, but in Liv’s eyes, it was all the more wonderful for what had been overcome to bring them to this moment, together. “It’s gonna be a pretty good excuse to get out to La Huerta regularly once Rosa’s bub’s here. We may have to tag along now and then-- I’m not having you usurp my position as ‘coolest visiting relative’.”

“I hate to break it to you, Liv,” Michael said, shaking his head in feigned sorrow, “but Jeimy sings, plays guitar, and has a talking parrot. You’ve never had the top spot to begin with.”

“Dude-- I can take my baby back---”

“Geez, touchy much! At least I know when I’m beat.”

“Just enjoy that cuddle, I’m pretty sure madam’s gonna be in high demand this evening.”

Content that her baby was in good hands, Liv felt comfortable enough to move a few feet away to check up on her older two. They’d blown her away with how they’d taken the new arrival in their stride; Sol was easy-going as usual, but Andi she’d been more concerned about, demanding as she was for fun and attention that simply was not in as high supply these days. But Andi doted on her baby sister, and was forever clamouring to be involved and help out. Now, the twosome had apparently roped Uncle Conor into a game of horsey-ride, with Andi was putting her newfound maternal side to use in steadying two-year-old Leonel with her hand as he had his turn, and Sol ripping up handfuls of grass to feed their new ‘pet’. Liv took an exhale and relaxed. Her little family was surrounded by love.

Then she turned, and there was the face she’d been desperately yearning to see.

“Reggie!”

“I told you, I’d be here, I’m not sure what all the fuss is abo--”

Liv flung her arms around her cousin, her best friend, and squeezed him with all her might.

“Steady on! You always have to be over-the-top about everything, don’t you,” he grumbled good-naturedly, but he kissed her the top of her head as she cried against his chest. He hugged her back, and gave a trembling exhale. “Now that I have you in person; congratulations.”

Liv came away to rub her teary eyes with the back of a hand. “I knew you were coming and everything, ‘m just a bit hormonal for this!”

She put her hands on her hips and took a few deep breaths, righting herself, then looked up at Reggie with a massive grin. He’d been with her through it all… both their spouses had been pregnant at the time, but she and Jeimy had lost their Avis, while Reggie and Mariama had brought home their healthy and bright Olivette-- named in tribute to their bond. Even struggling with parenting a newborn as well as his other two kids, Reggie had always found time for his old cousin, and it was a rare week that would pass without a call between London and San Trobida.

“How have you been?” he asked, “And don’t give me sass because I know childbirth can be godawful….”

“You really think I’d sass you?”

“Sure as bloody hell you would…. But are you doing all right? Other than obviously being touched in the head to have a blasted party of all things so soon after bringing a baby home. I just… I’d like to know you’re doing well.”

“We’re adjusting to the new normal,” she told him. “I’m adjusting… slowly but surely. And there’s grief that’s coming up, but I expected that. Mostly… I’m caught up in loving my baby girl, and so, so damn thankful that she’s here.” She grinned. It was as though she couldn’t think about her little Beatriz without doing so. “Do you wanna meet Bea? She’s having a cuddle with Uncle Michael right now.”

Reggie’s eyes lit up. “I did come all this way, I won’t not say ‘hi’. Actually, I may have promised Sammy and Ange that I send a few photographs-- it’s almost as though the need proof I’m actually here and taking meeting the new little cousin seriously.”

Liv laughed. “I’m sure we can manage that!” She took him by the elbow. “Come on-- you flew all the way from London, you get to skip the cuddle queue.”

And she took him to get acquainted with the baby, beaming as she walked him through a backyard filled with the smiling faces of the people she loved so much-- all there for her. Soon, they’d gather together, and raise a glass; to family, to good times, and to Beatriz Estela Montoya.

#endless summer #estela x mc #rosita montoya #es fanfic #montoya family #catalyst kiddos #playchoices

[mcbangle]

15 Questions and 15 Mutuals

Thanks for tagging me, @dollsome-does-tumblr

Were you named after anyone?

In classic Catholic tradition, I was named after a saint. My IRL nickname came from a name my parents saw in the closing credits of a show they can no longer remember. The nickname stuck, even if the show (and the religious affiliation) didn't!

When was the last time you cried?

Not sure, but it probably wasn't that long ago. I am still the sentimental sucker who cries at every sad movie and TV show. And book. And commercial. And dream.

Do you have kids?

Yes.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

All. The. Time. Slightly OT, but it's weird how we all have our own micro-cultures that we assume other people have as well. I strongly remember a friend in college who insisted that happy couples never argue, tease each other, nor are sarcastic when speaking with each other. That was news to me!

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

I feel like this question comes up a lot in these kinds of things, and I never know how to answer them. I don't know? I've never particularly noticed what I notice about people.

What’s your eye color?

Hazel-green-blue, changing depending on the light and what colors I'm wearing.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings for sure. I'll enjoy the occasional psychological thriller but I don't have any tolerance anymore for on-screen gore nor jump scares.

Any special talents?

🤔 How do we define special talents on a website where the majority of users write and/or draw for fun? Presumably differently than in a corporate ice-breaker?

I like to write and I like to draw and paint. I used to cross-stitch, embroider and crochet a lot but I've fallen out of the habit. I don't have any, like, funny party tricks, though.

Where were you born?

In the United States

What are your hobbies?

Reading, writing, drawing, painting

Have any pets?

I have the sweetest little puppy who is my little ray of sunshine.

What sports do you play/have you played?

I have poor hand-eye coordination and I flinch and/or duck when a ball or other projectile comes in my general direction, so...

I have played soccer and softball as a very young kid, but neither beyond mid-elementary school.

How tall are you?

Shorter than average for a U.S. woman.

Favorite subject in school?

In high school, it was probably a split between English (because I loved reading) and Math (because it came easily to me). In college, basically every Psychology course I took (I can't remember whether there were any required Psychology courses that I disliked, but if there were, I've forgotten them).

Dream job?

Now that I'm *cough cough* years old and have been through a few career transitions, my idea of a dream job is different from when I was younger. My dream job when I was younger would have involved me doing whatever I was most passionate about at the time. These days, I'd rather have a job that allows me the flexibility to take care of my family and enough free time to enjoy my hobbies outside of work. So, I suppose my current dream job would be a part-time, remote job that lets me set my own hours but nonetheless pays a livable wage and also provides top-tier health insurance at no cost to me. We're talking dreams here, right?

Tagging: I always get stressed at this point, so I'm just following my usual practice of tagging the mutuals I've most recently interacted with. Feel free to play or ignore as you like! Also, anybody else reading this who wants to play along, consider yourself tagged!

@redneterp, @lostwithnointernet, @3insert-cool-name3, @aurorasulphur, @seeking-further-illumination, @nrandom2215, @ereshai, @maramcgregor, @ladyknightkeladryofmindelan, @running-rabbit, @andthatisnotfake, @mauvecatfic, @feeisamarshmallow, @rdx-dcm, @tardis-stowaway

#about me

[normal-thoughts-official]

I was tagged by @androgymagnus . Thanks, honey

Rules: Write the latest line from your WIP (or post where you last left off in your art), and tag as many people as there are words in the line. Make a new post, don't reblog!

There is room for even more happiness in his heart, should he and Nicolò get some more privacy, is all he's saying.

Well that's a lot of words. And you tagged most of our mutual friends so. Uhhh. @mauvecatfic @drinkingteainthedark @knowlesian (im not sure if u write fic but if u dont analysis and stuff is fine also lol) and yeah i give up. I need more writer friends ez doesn't already know, lol

(If you wanna do the game, then consider yourself tagged. Also no pressure to do it)

#tag game #nsft mention

[edgydepressedchoicesthot]

Now you! 10, 14, 15, 19.

Thanks @mauvecatfic :D

10. A villain you wish didn’t get a redemption arc?

Okay so this choice might seem odd, but out of all the books I read and completed, he's the only villain I could think of that got the closest thing to a redemption arc with a diamond choice recalling old times after a brutal betrayal: Ansel Crane from "The Heist: Monaco". Like...what was even the point of that diamond choice??? I didn't take it, not even out of curiosity. Why would PB give a diamond choice for a character that's just so dislikable? idk lol

14. What scene would you rewrite and why?

There are honestly so many scenes that I'd rewrite, but off the top of my head,the ending for “Endless Summer” T_T

15. Favorite animal?

The undead bunny from "It Lives Beneath". It was cute in a way that satisfied my inner fan of horror lol.

19. What plot would you like to see in a Choices book?

A whodunit-style mystery book where all the characters are trapped in an isolated location and there's a killer picking them off, and MC has to rise to the occasion and play detective to find out wtf's going on.

#asks

[queen-arabella-of-cordonia]

Thanks for tagging me @cordonianruby !

Rules: tag nine people you want to get to know better!

favorite color: pink

currently reading: One Hundred Years of Solitude

last song: Olivia Rodrigo's good 4 u came on the radio when I was in the car this morning 😅

last series: I'm not really a TV person so none at the moment

last movie: Almost Famous for the 50th time bc it never gets old

sweet, savory, or spicy: sweet

currently craving: chips and queso are sounding pretty good right now tbh

coffee or tea: tea

currently working on: trr character moodboards and moodboards for individual relationships they each have with mc. I shelved my last writing project for now, but I've been painting a fairy forest irl!

Tagging: @kingliamisbae @otakudreamer @illustriousellarious @mauvecatfic

@storyofmychoices @lovingchoices14 @bebepac @nazario-sayeed @pixelsbichoice

#not choices

[marmolady]

Grandchildren: Aurora

Summary: Endless Ending timeline. Middle-aged Taylor and Estela are entering a new phase of their life together, welcoming their grandchildren into the family. In four parts; this is PART FOUR.

Word Count: 4421

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, ​@mauvecatfic @rhemenway888

Thanks for reading!

________________________________________

2061

Rosa smoothed out the gown with a hand. Her Mama Estela’s beautiful wedding gown, a gift from an old friend, Seraxa. Georgie’s wife, Taamina, had made the necessary alterations to accommodate seven months’ worth of baby bump-- something that Estela had insisted they try out rather than have Rosa write off her dream dress. Guilt remained over doing anything to change it at all when there were such precious memories attached….

“You look nervous. Are you nervous?” Luz, Rosa’s other best friend, had been by her side since early that morning.

Most of the Catalyst kids had gotten permission to bring their significant others in on the secrets of La Huerta… but Rosa hadn’t the need, Vaanti fiance and all. With her looking to spend as much time on the island as possible, Varyyn had suggested he consult with the elders to gain approval for her to share her world with Luz, who’d been close to both Rosa and Georgiana since their early school days. This was the result; Niala’rei was here, and Rosa would be wed with her two closest friends by her side.

“...I….” Of course, Rosa was nervous. The dress was, admittedly, a factor. A part of her felt it was too beautiful, the kind of gown a goddess would show up to a wedding in. Did she really have the confidence to pull off a dress like that? Her Mama ‘Stel had, twice. But that made Rosa feel like a mouse stepping into a warrior costume.

Somehow, though, Rosa didn’t look like the mouse she saw herself as; she looked proud and confident. Perhaps she held herself differently just with the knowledge that this was her heritage, that she belonged. Perhaps she held herself differently because of the baby… she’d always been more courageous for Leo’s presence, maybe this little one had helped her grow further.

This dress was both Vaanti and Montoya. There was no way she’d wear anything else as she made her vows to Homori.

She had to be the warrior queen. And her fight was with herself, because the greatest fear that lingered, the shadow that loomed menacingly over her, was her inability to speak the words she so needed to speak.

“Wo--oa--oah! I’m having some serious deja-vu right now-- talk about a blast from the past, doodlejumps!”

The appearance of Raj, all wide arms coming in for a bear hug made the skittish Rosa jump, but she recovered enough to take the embrace.

Rosa had hit it off with her larger-than-life Catalyst ‘uncle’ pretty much from the get-go-- even timid and fragile as she’d been back then. He had this magic quality… you couldn’t help but be at ease around him, and the young Rosa had gotten so much comfort from that warm and jovial presence. He’d made sure he had time in his busy schedule for her wedding, saying he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

She smiled shyly. “I had hoped it could fit,” she admitted. “After Livi wore Mama Taylor’s, I thought it would be nice to…. It’s like a family tradition now, isn’t it?”  

“Seems like it,” Raj said. “Gotta pull out the old Niala’rei gowns for a Montoya wedding. You know, when your moms made it official in San Trobida-- you know I basically ran that whole gig, right?-- Estela was pregnant too. We didn’t know it, though, early days. But still, maybe that’s a tradition too!”

“It might be now.”

“Well, it suits you.”

He joined the crowd bustling into the throne room, and Rosa was left alone with Luz. All those people who’d be watching… there was surely no way she could do this….

“You can do this,” Luz said warmly, supportive as ever. “Just… talk to Mori. Look at him, look at the big smile on his dorky face, and speak to him.”

Rosa had never not been able to talk to Homori. Her body trusted him, never felt the need to freeze up. Her childhood challenges with selective mutism had been more or less overcome, but every now and then, usually when she least wanted it to happen, all her words would get… stuck. She preferred writing. Her hand never failed her like her voice did.

She couldn’t screw up her wedding vows, though. There was much that needed to be said; how much it meant to her that she could pour her heart and soul out to Homori and know she was being heard, how he made her laugh more in just a day by his side than she would in weeks without him. How he was exactly the parent to Leo that she, growing up in care, would have longed for as a young child-- sweet, and tender, and encouraging, and loving without bounds. Rosa had to promise him a lifetime of love, given honestly and openly. She’d promise that she’d have his back as they took on the challenges of parenthood, of finding personal fulfilment side-by-side, and navigating the divide between their cultures. She’d share his dreams, cheer his successes as her own, knowing that her joys would be his in the very same way. She had to say all that, aloud, get the words in the right order, and… and….

Luz squeezed Rosa’s hand. “It sounds like they’re ready for you, babe.”

Placing a hand on her belly, Rosa took a deep breath. Breathing techniques had gotten her through some real panics in her time…. She could feel the movement of the baby, and it weirdly made her feel more capable. Yes, she was definitely holding herself stronger and prouder since this little kid came along. For her baby, and for Leo, and for her lovely Homori, she could do this. She could damn well say what she needed to say.

The hall was full. Couples getting married, friends and family there in love and support. Rosa had attended Niala’rei before; when Georgie had taken Faiyara’s hand. She’d imagined it then… having the guts to choose a life far removed from the one she’d grown up with. Stepping into that hall, she was proud. Her and Homori, they were going to make it.

Her breath rattling with nervous excitement, Rosa saw through the crowd that was her family, and her eyes met with Homori’s. Oh, Mori…. His eyes welled immediately, and his face was in his hands.

Rosa giggled as she reached him, and wrapped her fingers around his. They laughed together, tearfully jubilant to be there hand in hand, so close to ever after.

Maybe they’d both have trouble getting the words out after all. It didn’t even matter. They had one another, and they could take all the time they needed.

_________________________________

The front door was ajar, so Liv pushed it open and tentatively stuck her head in. “Hello, Rosa?”

“Auntie Liv!” came the bellow of the small child who charged smack into her legs. Leonel barely even blinked, but wrapped his arm around Liv’s-- probably soon to be bruised-- thighs.

“Oh, hey Leo,” Liv said, recovering quickly. She was used to being almost being bowled over by small children by this point. “I take it your mommy’s in?”

“I’m here!” Rosa said, bustling over. “Thanks for grabbing him-- Mo just went out to the workshop to grab the crib, and I’ve been trying to convince Leo to wait here with me.”

“No worries.” Liv placed down her bags, and scooped her nephew up in her arms. He was a cuddly kid, and she was enough of a novelty that her attention would distract him from getting under his dad’s feet. “I just wanted to drop by the few things I said about. I’ll send more as Bea grows out of things, obviously, but just little little clothes and sleep bags for now.”

She sat her younger sister down and brought her a cold refreshment-- and Leonel a pineapple juice in a sippy cup.

“You really didn’t have to,” Rosa said as she sipped gratefully. The heat was admittedly hard to handle this late in pregnancy, even with all the fans going.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to go back home to San Trobida without being totally sure you’re all right,” Liv admitted. “I know first-hand how hard it can be with a newborn, and you’re fresh off the back of a massive life change. I want… I want you to know that I’m here for you. Me and Jeimy. I know we’re swamped with our own kids, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have your back as well.”

Rosa nodded quietly, looking down into her glass. She didn’t want to put anyone out, she’d always struggled with that. Her early life she’d gotten through by making as few demands as possible, well, until she simply cracked. Asking for help was still something she had only found herself able to do with Homori, her moms, and very rarely, Luz or Georgie.

“Rosita, I want to be there for you,” Liv urged.

Rosa exhaled shakily, her breath making the surface of her colourful drink tremble. She placed it down, and looked to the side shyly.

“I am scared,” she said finally. “Not of being a mom again, because I love being a mom, it… feels like it’s what I’m meant to be doing. I’m scared of labour and the birth… you know my pain tolerance is laughable. I’m not… I’m not like you. I’m not tough.”

Liv scooched closer and took her sister’s hand. “I’d think you were batshit crazy if you weren’t crazy. Labour is off-the-charts intense. You’ll cry, and scream, and swear, and probably crap yourself. And it’ll be worth it.” She paused. “They do… have everything on hand to give you an epidural if you need one, right?”

Rosa nodded, wiping her eyes. It was a relief to share her fears with someone other than Homori. What had Mama Taylor always told her?-- ‘you’re allowed to take up space’. The space she took up with her anxiety did not need to be apologised for. Or so she knew in theory.

“Y-yeah. I wanted to try without, it’s not really a thing women here use much.”

“Well, good on you. Just… don’t let other people’s expectations sway you one way or another. You know your body and what you need, and you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

Rosa could feel herself blushing.

“Mommy!” Leonel said, “Can I show Auntie Liv my room? I have dinosaurs on my bed, she’ll pro’lly like the dinosaurs.”

“Sure, I like dinosaurs,” Liv said. “Shall we go for this tour?”

Grateful to have the glare of attention off herself, Rosa happily let Leo do his thing. He had his auntie by the hand, and enthusiastically showed her round. So, Rosa took the opportunity to put her head through the door and check in on Homori with the new crib.

“There!” he said, “we’re ready as we’ll ever be!”

Rosa could’ve danced at the sight of that crib, the ornamental fox designs at the head hand-carved by the daddy-to-be. It was just gorgeous, and its placement by the bed signalled that it would not be long until the new family member would be there with them. God, the wait was feeling like an eternity. Naturally, she ran to Homori and kissed him.

A little while later, Rosa and Liv were back in the bedroom, sorting tiny baby clothes into neat piles.

 “I’m so glad you’ve got Georgie with you on this when the time comes,” Liv was saying. “She knows her stuff.”

“She really does,” Rosa said, and she smiled. How lucky was she that her best friend happened to be a midwife? She couldn’t be in safer hands. “Sometimes I think she’s almost as excited about baby coming as we are.

Liv had to laugh. “It’s a good thing she’s going to have her own to keep her busy soon enough, or I reckon you’d have to prise her off the baby with a winch or something.”

Rosa chuckled, but then turned away. She had the best people in her corner, a far cry from what she’d come from. She couldn’t forget that feeling though, the aloneness, and it made letting go difficult. Liv would understand.

“I….”

The words caught.

“No rush, Rosi. You can take your time.”

“I have… Georgie. Helping. But she’ll have… she’ll have her own baby. I have Homori, and he’s everything.”

“Mo is an absolute freaking superstar,” Liv concurred. “Tio Diego would do anything for you as well, you know that, right? Varyyn too.”

Rosa looked at her hands, at the teeny, tiny babygro in them. Teeny and tiny, and representative of oh-so-much. “I… know that. Asking for help is… hard.” She laughed bitterly. “When I need help the most, I can hardly even string a sentence together.”

Liv frowned. “Maybe you could have a codeword to text or something? They want to be there for you-- they love you.”

It was hard to accept, even if logic told her it was true. Old insecurities were not Rosa’s friends.

“And I… I miss Moms.”

“Yeah. It’s a big change.”

“I know they’d drop everything if I needed help, but it still… scares me. I shouldn’t be scared of not living with my moms at twenty-six but I definitely am.” Rosa swallowed hard. “They said… they can stay on La Huerta as long as I need, but….”

“You’re not a burden, Rosita. Not at all.” Liv put an arm around her younger sister and hugged her close. “Worst case scenario? Moms get a month or two longer hanging out on paradise island. Mama Taylor will hang out with Tio Diego watching old episodes of Cinema Therapy and go on their little emotional journeys together. Mama Estela will teach Leony how to put the other kids in a headlock.”

Rosa snorted. “I guess they wouldn’t mind. Worst case scenario.”

“And you probably won’t even need that. You got this.”

_______________________________

There was a slight breeze. A welcome slight breeze, for it had been a muggy day even by La Huerta standards. Estela let her foot dangle.

Try and relax. It’s gonna be a long one.

She and Taylor sat on their porch swing-- it had been built and embellished with carvings by Homori who’d gifted it to them a year prior-- taking in the night, and resigning themselves to the anxious wait.

Rosa had been very afraid. Fair enough, Estela had thought, for childbirth was almost unimaginably painful. Rosi had never had a high pain tolerance. Estela did, and she’d found herself going to pieces in the agony that had preceded Liv’s entrance to the world. Her own instinct was to want to be near to Rosa, to help, but a plenty capable support team was doing that job. In all honesty, Estela had anticipated that Rosa would want her mothers there; she’d always needed their reassurance far more than Liv ever had, even into adulthood. Maybe it was a good thing that Rosa had other supports in place… her independence had certainly grown since Leo came along. Hell, she’d freaking blossomed.

Estela glanced down as her phone screen lit up.

‘6cm, looks like going into active labor. Starting to get a bit scary!’

“Oh, sweetheart…,” Taylor breathed. “That’s good. Good progress. Quicker than I was expecting, to be honest.” She sucked her cheek as she let Estela tap out an encouraging reply. “I’m selfish, but I miss her needing me so much.”

“You’re not selfish,” Estela said with a shrug. “You’d be selfish if you barged in, demanding she hold your hand. You can’t help your feelings, but you’re aware of them, so….”

“...so I guess I’m not making them anyone’s problem but my own. True. Well, apart from you.”

Estela looked her wife in the eyes and smiled gently. “It’s always comforting to know I’m not the only one having an internal freak-out.”

Taylor grinned. “We do our freak-outs as a team like the loved-up wives we are.”

She looked lovely out there in the moonlight, Estela thought. All full of hope and excitement, of tenderness for the frightened little girl who now existed only as a memory-- for Rosa had found her wings and soared.  Taylor was what she’d always been, a carer and protector, an inspirer and a confidant. She’d still be all of those things, but her role would change now as their children brought forth another generation. Time to be ‘grandma’.

Estela kissed her softly, heartbeat quickening at the tender caress of Taylor’s lips upon her own.

“You are never gonna not be needed,” she said in a hushed laugh. “Hermosa idiota.”

That made Taylor giggle. “I guess not.”

___________________________

Leonel jumped up and down on the springy old couch, punctuating his bounces with chanting. “We’ve… got… a… baby! We’ve… got… a… baby!”

In Homori’s arms, a golden-haired infant slumbered, oblivious to the excitement.

“Mind you don’t wake your sister.”

With an extra big bounce, Leo landed on his bottom, and grinned from ear to ear. “My baby sister! I can’t believe she’s gonna live with us now!”

“I know,” Rosa said, and she groaned as she sat down. “No more jumping, okay, sweetheart? I can barely believe she’s out in the world either.”

“She’ll get a name, right?” Leo asked. “We can’t call her ‘baby’ when she gets bigger….”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something, mijo.”

It was even slower than usual to get Leo into his pyjamas, and clean his teeth, and brush his hair. A new baby sister was a significant distraction. The baby joined the three of them in Leo’s room, sleeping through the two requisite bedtime stories, and still not stirring when her big brother gave her a very gentle kiss on the top of her head.

Eventually, though, Leo was settled, and his parents could spend some quiet time with the newest member of their happy unit.

“I guess the next challenge,” Rosa said sleepily, “what’s her name? I think it would be really nice to have ‘Luz’ as the middle after all she’s helped me out… but I’m pretty stumped on a first name. D’you think you can come up with a short-list?”

Homori’s eyes were shining with love for the small infant snuggled against his bare chest. “She should have a human name-- English or Spanish-- like her brother. It’ll be easier for her to keep her secrets if her name does not attract attention.”

Rosa frowned. He was right, but it didn’t sit well. Their little girl was to be raised by a Vaanti father, she had a right to the cultural heritage that came with that. They could maybe even get away with some Vaanti names-- it wasn’t as if humans didn’t get creative when naming their kids, no one would necessarily suspect anything….

“Or,” Homori said, picking up the vibe his wife was giving off, “she could have a Vaanti name and a human name. Maybe we could give Leo a Vaanti name too. Even if they don’t always use them, it would be kinda nice for them to have.”

“Maybe,” Rosa said, thoughtful, “you could come up with some Vaanti names, and we’ll look up human names with an equivalent meaning.”

They sat together on the bed, poring over baby name websites, and a book of names they’d gotten out from the library in The New Celestial weeks ago. Rosa and Homori were on a mission; their baby girl was going to have a name before the night was out.

“Something bright and optimistic,” Homori pondered. “I quite like ‘Tahiyya’, which represents a hopeful future. ‘Hiyya’ is ‘future’, and ‘Tah’or ‘Taa’ is something you add on the front of a word or name… like a positive thing.”

“What does Taamina’s name mean?”

Taamina was the child of a close friend, who frequently played with Leo.

“‘Mina’ is like… ‘to dance’. So, I guess like a dance of happiness.”

“That’s cute! Pity that one’s taken by a close friend.”

Homori chuckled. “We’ll find her name.”

Rosa clicked her tongue. “Okay, names meaning ‘future’….”

She searched for five minutes, then ten. “Nothing really jumping out, to be honest.”

“‘Laniira’ is the name of the first Elyyshar, who brought our people together from across the island at a time of trouble. I’m not sure of the full meaning, but ‘niir’ is ‘sunrise’ and the ‘a’ sound is feminine. Something beautiful beginning… that’s pretty nice as meanings go.”

That was pretty nice. “Like ‘dawn’ or something….” Rosa pondered. Or how about…. “What about ‘Aurora’? Our new day. Her Vaanti name could be Niira.”

Homori beamed. “That’s it! That’s her name!”

The baby began to stir and whine, woken by his excited cry.

“Oops-- I’m gonna… I’m gonna have to get the hang of being enthusiastic quietly….”

Rosa couldn’t help but laugh. “And this is the kid who slept through ‘Hurricane Leo’.”

“Hurricane Leo is no match for over-excited Daddy Mo!”

Having picked up the freshly named Aurora and begun gently bouncing her upon her arm, Rosa looked up at Homori and grinned from ear to ear. To think she once couldn’t see herself ever so much as having a family… now her family, and the love they shared, just kept growing.

Somewhere along the line, she’d gotten so lucky. And Aurora, and her whirlwind Leony, would never know fears like the ones she’d had.

_____________________________

2062

“Abuela, Abuela!” Sol cried as he ran, feet pounding on the sand.

Taylor grinned, looking up from her drink to meet her wife’s eye. “You’re wanted.”

Estela got to her feet and began limbering up. “Ready to lose, mijo?”

“’Stel! He’s only six! You’re gonna go easy, right?”

“And I’m sixty-five. Pretty damn fair if you ask me.”

Sol grasped his grandmother’s hand and led her to the firmer sand. He pointed up the beach. “To that banana tree that’s sticking out down there-- you see it?”

“I’m racing too!” Andi hollered, dropping her arepa con queso in her hurry to be included. She rarely beat her brother in a running race, but she didn’t tire of trying. Then, tagging along behind her was Leonel-- just another one of the ‘big kids’ as far as he was concerned.

“On my signal….” Raj announced, and he picked up a napkin to hold in the air. “Aaaand… let her rip!”

He dropped his arm, and the four were off… with Estela perhaps going a little easy on her grandkids.

Taylor watched with a smile on her face and in her heart. A more perfect way to spend a day she couldn’t think of; Aurora’s first birthday, and a lively picnic surrounded by loved ones. Joining the Montoya clan, Raj had flown in; he’d taken up the role of ‘cool great-uncle’ with Leo and Aurora as if he was born for no other purpose, though he had Diego as stiff competition. Michael and Conor had joined him; Michael never missed a birthday of one of his donor kids. Rosa’s close friends Georgiana and Faiyara had joined the celebration with children Niraea and Rauan in tow, and Homori’s father had trekked down from Colonnade Cove to be there to commemorate the birth of his granddaughter.

Diego, naturally, was right by Taylor’s side.

“How’s it even been a year?” he asked incredulously. “Look at her-- she’s walking. Walking, Taylor!”

“That’s all of them,” Taylor laughed. “All of the grandkids walking, all walking straight into mischief.”

“You reckon Rosa’s done?”

“Yeah, she seemed pretty certain.”

“I’m not surprised,” Diego commented. “She and Mori seem really content. Rosi always talks about all these things she’s excited to do... easier once all the baby-having’s out the way.”

“You’re not wrong. She’s happy, and she’s just growing into herself more and more.”

“Five grandkids… not a bad effort.”

“Not bad at all.”

Having sat herself in the middle of the largest picnic blanket, Aurora seemed to know she was the centre of attention. All these people around, all the hubbub that came with a party, and she took it all in her diminutive stride.

“She looks like you,” Diego noted with a laugh. “Everyone else revolving around her.”

“Hey! I know I’m not the centre of the universe!”

How could Taylor not smile? So much of the people she loved in those five children, and each of the five was something unique and precious all on their own. Little pieces of stardust, brightening their family’s world.

Sol had joined Aurora on the blanket, and was cuddling Beatriz in his lap-- even as the toddler made a bid for freedom and for the oh-so-tempting cupcakes set out on the camp table. Still out on the sand, Andi was giving Leonel ‘whizzies’, holding him under his armpits and swinging him wildly around in circles until she collapsed dizzily. And Aurora was just taking it all in; chewing on her teething ring, and watching the antics of her friends and family with quiet curiosity. Every now and then, someone-- her mom and dad, of course, had a particular knack for this-- would catch her eye and smile or pull a face, and she’d come alight with a giggle.

“You know what you’ve gotta do?” Diego prodded. “Grannies and grandkids selfie!”

It wasn’t always going to happen that they’d all be together, Liv’s and Rosa’s lives being in different places. Yeah… they should take a picture.

Estela needed little convincing, and she swiftly herded up Leo-- who rushed over to snuggle with Grandma Tay-- and Andi --who was grabbled and dangled upside down as she laughed hysterically.

“You,” Taylor gushed as she squeezed her little Leo, cuddled up on her lap. “Are. So. Huggy!”

“Hugs are good!” he declared.

Hugs are good, Taylor concurred, as birthday girl Aurora came over with wide arms to join in.

Liv held up her phone to take a picture. “Mom, you’ve got Andi-Pants the wrong way up! Didn’t they ever tell you how to correctly assemble a kid?”

The giggling, squirming Andi was eventually tamed, leaning up on one side of Estela’s lap, while Sol took the other. Perched between them, of course, was baby Bea-- a little bewildered by the bustling around, but taking it in her stride.

Over the top of Aurora’s head, Taylor caught Estela’s eye and they shared a smile. Sometimes, it was necessary to take a moment and really marvel in the beautiful thing they’d made together. The odds faced, the fight for their lives… somehow it was a million miles away now. And ‘happy ever after’ just seemed to keep on coming.

#endless summer #playchoices #estela montoya #estela x mc #liv montoya #rosita montoya #es fanfic

[marmolady]

Grandchildren: Leonel

Summary: Endless Ending timeline. Middle-aged Taylor and Estela are entering a new phase of their life together, welcoming their grandchildren into the family. In four parts; this is PART TWO.

Word Count: 3208

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, ​@mauvecatfic @rhemenway888

Thanks for reading!

________________________

2058

Rosa was trembling as she hung up the phone, the news taking several moments to sink in.

It was a ‘yes’. It was happening. She was going to be bringing home her baby boy.

The whole story went back several years-- or to Rosa’s birth if we’re talking the real beginning. Raised in one of Santa Juana’s children’s homes after being abandoned on the doorstep as an infant, she’d found herself drawn back there, initially to help process her own traumas but then to lend a hand where she could in helping others through the system. The home wasn’t far from Rosa’s university, so it was easy enough to volunteer an hour or two most days, just being there as a friendly face. Even after graduating, she kept up her commitment, and then… Leonel arrived.

Rosa had actually been at the home when the baby was discovered upon the doorstep. Foundlings were not unusual in San Trobida; taking into account the small population, baby abandonment could even be considered commonplace, especially around the two main cities. The tiny country had found stability in the decades since the civil war, but the knock-on effects remained. Leonel, like Rosa, was a casualty, presumably, of that ongoing trauma. She’d jumped in to assist, not knowing that as soon as she took the infant in her arms, she would feel a pull to him as if by a chain through her very heart. Leo didn’t have to spend years in the system, bouncing between orphanages and foster homes; Rosa wouldn’t let it be. She would be his mom.

Months had passed. There was a lot to be arranged. Rosa was ready to be a mom, and began nesting. Her home was also her mothers’. A lot of San Trobidans lived in multi-generational households, so it wasn’t a concern; Rosa talked with Mama Taylor and Mama Estela about the possibility of her moving on to her own place, but they were undaunted by the prospect of a live-in grandchild… and Rosa just simply preferred her family close. It was no longer the separation anxiety that had plagued her in years gone by-- she could leave, she just didn’t want to.

Leo wouldn’t have that problem, she’d make sure of it. He’d never know a day where he’d wonder if someone, anywhere, wanted him. Rosa would ease him through his feelings about his background, and he’d know she was on his side, always, even when she wasn’t physically by his side.

Tears began to roll down her cheeks. You’re coming home, baby.

With shaky steps, Rosa entered the kitchen; her moms were putting a simple dinner together, and were engaged in conversation that halted as they saw their daughter’s dazed state.

“Rosa?” Estela straightened her back, as if bringing herself to her full height to intimidate some invisible threat. Ready for action should Rosa need her.

Taylor was quicker to get a read on Rosa’s expression. This was good news. She put her hands to her face. “Rosi?”

“So, uh… I’m gonna be a mom.”

And the room erupted with joyous squeals and shouts.

____________________________

“Penny for yours?” Taylor asked, sitting down at the breakfast table. Estela looked as though she was miles away.

“Hng?” Estela brought herself back to the present. “Huh, sorry, I was just a little lost in thought there.”

“I mean, fair enough. It’s a lot to get your head around-- this time tomorrow, Rosa’s bringing baby home. Once things got moving, they got moving fast.”

Estela smiled gently. “Yeah… it hardly seems real. Reminds me of when we were doing this. Long… long time ago now.”

Rosa was their baby, but she was no baby anymore, but a twenty-three year old young woman. The years had flown by, far faster than they’d done with Liv. Just two years out of college, Rosa was stepping away from her fledgling teaching career to focus on the child she was taking as her son. Even sharing the same roof, there was only so much Estela and Taylor could do for her, that she’d accept from them.

“Just nerves, I guess,” Estela said. “A long time since we’ve had a baby at home.”

Taylor gave a little laugh. “Rosi’s going to be amazing… but we might have gotten a little too used to uninterrupted sleep.”

Then quiet fell between them.

 A smile quirked at Estela’s lips. “I’m not the only one overthinking?”

“Part of me worries…. It’s stupid.” Taylor looked to her wife. You know what I’m going to say, don’t you? “She’s pouring everything into Leonel, almost as if she could erase her own pain by preventing his. I’m scared for her realisation that you can’t protect your child from everything.”

Estela sighed. “Yeah. I’ve thought that too. But, mi amor,” she said calmy, taking Taylor’s hands, “she’s not any different to either of us when we had Livi. You’re gonna want your kid to have everything you wish you’d had. Sometimes, you overcompensate. And sometimes,” she sighed again, heavier, “the things that hurt the people you want to protect are the things you don’t see coming.”

“Yeah…. I see so much of me in her. It’s part of why I connected with her so hard in the beginning; she had no roots, and I could give her that. I could give her that… to a point.”

Estela’s caloused thumb traced along Taylor’s forefinger. “And you learned to live with your own limitations.”

“Of which I have many,” Taylor admitted with a sad laugh. She looked into her lover’s eyes, now lined with deep creases. The earnest tenderness there gave her strength, as it always did. “But Rosa will be better prepared for my own experiences. We’re so lucky we’re still as close as we are. You imagine your kids finding their wings and flying away… but I’m not remotely sorry Rosi’s taking her time with the ‘leaving’ part.”

Estela smiled. “No. I’m not sorry at all either. Poor kid spent too many years with no family; she can make up lost time as long as she wants, and we’ll always give it to her.”

Taylor leaned forward and kissed her wife’s lips, lingering just long enough to bring out a happy little sigh. She could be trepidatious for Rosa-- for all of them-- but her joy was far greater. Their family was perfect in all its scars and stories. Leo, like Rosa before him, would simply add to the tapestry, enriching her life in ways she couldn’t yet know. And Taylor was happy, for her Rosi damn well deserved that.

______________________________

Leonel was as he’d always been; bright, curious, his dark brown eyes following Rosa’s from the moment she came close. It was different this time. How far he’d come since she’d first met him, a newborn all alone in he world; it was just on her last visit with him that she’d heard his first giggle, his black hair was coming in thick, and he was reaching out for things he wanted. Today, he reached for Rosa.

“Come here, darling,” she cooed, and she scooped him up, bringing him to her chest. This time, there wouldn’t be a goodbye; Leo would belong in her arms for good.

“You’re going home, Leonito!” his foster carer, a sunny older woman by name of Elena, announced. She rubbed Rosa on the back, a supportive ‘over to you, now’.

“Oh….” Rosa wiped her face as well as she could while holding her precious baby, her son. “I knew I’d be a crying mess!”

Elena smiled a twinkling-eyed smile. “And so you should be. Today is a beautiful day. You don’t waste a beautiful day not feeling it!”

Rosa couldn’t not feel this. It was everything. It filled her up and left her weeping.

“I’ve got you, bebe… I got you….”

Holy shit… this whole little life was in her hands.

________________________

Rosa’s nerves were unbearable as she stepped forward to knock on the door of the pretty little hut just outside the bustling marketplace. Leonel was his usual easygoing self-- not a grumble out of him the whole journey there-- and as she held him, Rosa found herself wishing she had something of his knack for taking life in his stride. If he had a stride, anyway…. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the wooden doorframe, and it was barely room for her exhale before the response came.

“Your son!” Homori exclaimed as he threw open his front door and thew open his arms. “I can’t believe it-- and he’s beautiful! I have never… never seen a baby like him-- his hair is so dark already!”

“Oh!” Rosa laughed, her nerves falling away in the face of her dearest friend’s pure exhilaration. He pulled her into the moment and out of her own stormy mind, as was his talent. “Human hair is a bit different to Vaanti; we can be one colour most of our lives, or start dark as a baby and go lighter.”

“I knew you go grey instead of brown, but I guess I’m still learning. I think his dark hair makes Leo look like he’s wise like an old man, and his face is bright and new.”

Homori’s yellow eyes were wide with wonderment as the three of them came through to the cosy sitting room of his hut, and within mere moments, it had filled Rosa with utter delight. His heart on his sleeve as per the norm. It was one of the things she loved about him; there was nothing hidden. When Homori loved, it filled every inch of him and couldn’t be denied. Rosa was shyer, insecure, but not for a second had she doubted what she shared with her starry-eyed young man from Colonnade Cove.

“Would you like to hold him?” she asked. “He’s pretty good with new people.”

“People who look like me, though?”

“Didn’t bat an eyelid when he met Varyyn. Anyway, Leony’s going to be spending a lot of time out here… best he gets accostomed to the fact that some people are blue or green.”

Homori tore his gaze from Leo’s curious one to look Rosa in the face, earnest and hopeful. “A lot of time out here? I’d like that. I know it’s hard… so much of what you love is far away, but there is much you can share with him here. I’d share with him too, if you wanted; even if I can’t be his dad, I will be s-someone who cares for him….”

He trailed off, his voice cracking with emotion. He’d be Homori’s dad. He’d love him, for he loved Rosa, and this was Rosa’s baby who found his way into their world through her kind heart. Baby Leonel was, however, another tie binding Rosa to a place Homori couldn’t belong to, a faraway place he could only know through stories else risk his life and the lives of his people.

A lump formed in Homori’s throat. He nodded. “I’d really love to hold him.”

“Yeah?” Rosa breathed. “Just… just make sure his head doesn’t flop forward. His neck’s getting stronger, but still a bit of help needed.”

She eased the little child into the Vaanti man’s arms, and was pleased but unsurprised when Leo took the transition all in his stride.

“Leonel, my sweet one! I’m so happy to meet you! I am! I am!” Homori cooed, exaggerating his adoring grin as the baby smiled back at him. “Look at that smile-- just like your mama!”

Rosa didn’t want to cry. Homori would feel guilt, and this was her decision, her fault. Several years had passed since their brief summer romance, but they hadn’t managed to keep the flame from rekindling, inconvenient though it was. If not for the pregnancy scare, maybe they’d have stayed caught in in the whirlwind of young love, but the reality was that their worlds were separate. Homori simply could not just waltz into the life Rosa lived in San Trobida, and even after weeks of soul-searching and feeling as though she might drown in her own tears, she knew that there was too much she couldn’t walk away from.

This was the best they could do. Rosa and Homori were in love, and they were honest about it. Their time together was never long enough. Should one find a relationship in the absence of the other, it would be with a blessing already spoken. Rosa didn’t want anyone else. She wanted to teach children-- it was what she’d studied for-- and she wanted to stay near to the family that she’d gleaned so much strength from. She wanted to make San Trobida better for kids like her, and kids like Leonel. The thing was, her heart remained with Homori as well.

They all sat down together, and Homori gently bounced the infant on his knee, all the while talking to him, delighting in each smile brought to the small round face.

When Homori looked back to Rosa, his eyes were sparkling with unwept tears, and he saw the emotion plain in her own. He wouldn’t have her hurt for him-- not on a day as special as this.

“You have everything to be happy about, sweet flower, and everything to be proud of. Look at this boy! He’s growing up loved, and that’s you.”

“Yes,” said Rosa, “I’m happy. I can’t believe he’s here right now; my son, discovering La Huerta for the first time. Meeting you.”

She was quiet for a few moments, then--

“I know what we agreed. I just… don’t see myself feeling this way for someone who isn’t you.”

“Me neither. So maybe… for now… we just accept where and what we are, trusting it won’t be forever.”

Homori dared look hopeful, and Rosa thought how beautiful he was like that, holding her little Leo like he was his own. She couldn’t let this not be what she was heading towards. What she saw there before her was everything she could ever want….

“I’d never ask you to wait for me,” she said, “I stand by that. I’ve just got so much to work out with my life….”

“That’s nothing to apologise for,” Homori said gently, and he clicked his tongue for Leo as he resumed the rolling bouncing of his knee. “You have a lot that you care about. It’s far better than to not care enough!”

Rosa sighed a laugh. “I can’t argue with that. It was kind of inescapable, the family I got adopted into… caring to the point of almost destroying yourself is kind of a Montoya family trait. I’m lucky I have you; you love big and proud... and somehow you’re just so cool about it?”

“Hey, I’m a cool guy!” Homori attempted a hair flip, which he didn’t pull off, but earned a big smile off both Leo and Rosa, so he took it as a win.

She didn’t want to lose this. She could hope no one else ever caught his eye while he waited for her to get a hold of her life, or…. But she was afraid, and words were never her strong point when she was afraid.

Homori’s expression quickly became serious, concerned. He edged closer to her on the sofa, so that baby Leo could happily snuggle against either or both of them, then let the silence be.

“Mo.”

“I hear you, Rosa.” Homori’s voice was smooth and warm… effortlessly comforting.

“I love you.”

Homori’s eyes had filled with tears. “Okay, maybe I’m not that cool….”

“You are to me,” Rosa choked out a laugh. “To me, you’re perfect.”

And Homori put his forehead to Rosa’s, her precious baby boy contentedly cuddled between their bodies.

“I love you too, sweet flower. And now your baby as well!” “The love we have could never steer is wrong-- I really believe that. Maybe it’ll change like it’s done before, but I know it’ll always be there.

Like the love she had for her Leonel. Trust in love came with difficulty, but this… this was impossible to deny. So, she and Leo, and Homori… they were going to be okay.

_______________________________

Rosa sat out on the hill overlooking The Celestial, baby Leonel slumbering in her lap, wearing a homemade onesie gifted from Aleister and Grace’s daughter, Erin, a little bobble hat knitted by his grandma, and swaddled in a blanket passed down from Andi and Sol that Rosa had made for them. The first baby born into the Catalyst extended family in several years, the little guy had enjoyed plenty of attention. It was small wonder he was exhausted, but still he took it all in his stride. Rosa, on the other hand, would be glad when the interest waned. The love was welcome, but it didn’t take much for her to become overwhelmed when it came from all sides.

“You’re a resilient little man, you know that?”

Where possible, she’d make it so he didn’t have to be, but inner strength would serve him well when she could not protect him from life’s challenges. Besides… some of the best things came out of hurt, and loss; her Mama ‘Stel had told her that.  It had been Rosa’s own pain that spurred her to be where she’d been to meet Leo in the first place, and now she was his mother.

She watched the usual beginning-of-reunion frivolities from her secluded spot; it had been the norm for her to retreat here when it all got overwhelming. That was something else she’d gotten from her mothers, for this was ‘their’ hill. Right now, they were in the thick of things, Mama Taylor with young Andi on her knee as they toasted marshmallows, Mama Estela sharing a drink with Jake and Craig. Both Reggie’s wife Mariama and Liv’s spouse Jeimy, Rosa had already quietly noticed, were off the alcohol, adding to her growing suspicion that there might be even more little kids around soon-- Isla was heavily pregnant with twins as well, so Leo would not be the baby of the bunch for long.

Leo breathed heavily in his sleep, completely at peace. Rosa had just been ready to go indoors and get him settled in his crib when he dropped off, and now couldn’t bring herself to risk disturbing him. But the night air was comfortable and slightly cool, and she was quite content to enjoy the feel of him snuggled against her, while taking in the sounds of family. She adjusted her position, bringing him further upright so she could lean down and kiss the top of his little head, his hair so soft to touch. To hold him and kiss him was to have warmth spread through her body, touch her very soul.

What would their future be? Rosa couldn’t see herself not returning to this place. Perhaps, when Leonel was that bit older, and she that bit more settled into motherhood, she’d find a way to balance her life in San Trobida with the home she had and would always have on La Huerta. Before Leo, she’d been on the verge of making that leap… but babies change things.

“We’ll work it out, Leonito, and it’ll be fun. I know you trust me.” She kissed him again. “Love you.”

#endless summer #estela x mc #rosita montoya #es fanfic #montoya family #catalyst kiddos #playchoices

[marmolady]

Never Had A Friend Like Me: Part One

Hey, @mauvecatfic... some Diego for you!

Summary: Endless Ending timeline. Elderly Diego and Taylor reflect on a lifelong friendship. Part one of two.

Word Count: 3741

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, ​@mauvecatfic @rhemenway888

Thanks for reading!

__________________________

La Huerta, 2090

“Hey--” Taylor said as she settled down amongst the soft cushions of her favourite chair, knowing full well she’d be needing to call in assistance when the time came to haul her old body up from them, “I came up with the perfect idea for our next marathon.”

“’Marathon’? Between the two of us, we’re lucky to get through one movie without someone dozing off.” Diego grinned at his friend. His best friend of seventy years.

“That’s what makes it a marathon, because it takes so damn long. We take our time, savouring the laughs, the tears, and appreciating the artform.” A glass of wine, some cheeses, to break it up. And the two of them would reminisce, and Diego would point out his favourites of the crew’s filmmaking choices… or those that were notably bad.

“How about ‘the Zac Efron trifecta’?” Taylor suggested, showing her age. “High School Musical, followed by Hairspray, followed by The Greatest Showman.”

“Let’s just see if we can get through ‘Julie Andrews Fest’ first, okay?”

They did this fairly often. Just chilling out to the tune of films meeting their assigned theme. At the age they were, ‘just chilling out’ was pretty much requisite. Taylor’s arthritis had worsened considerably in the last year, and Diego’s respiratory issues were easily triggered by any amount of exertion. They were reasonably healthy nonogenerians… but they were nonogenerians.

You got to an age where you didn’t know when your best-friend-movie-weekend would be your last one. Naturally, a lot of the choices were deeply nostalgic old comforts. Created from nothing into a white American woman with a built-in noughties childhood and adolescence, the lyrics to all the songs in High School Musical-- and some of the dance routines too-- were something innate to Taylor. She’d been born with it. Later, she’d discovered that Quinn had been obsessed with the series as a kid and had found it a comfort as she shared it with her mom during long months housebound. When Vaanu was piecing together what ‘human’ looked like, something from Quinn’s consciousness must have been picked up. So many of those little things made up Taylor, and now that so many of her friends had passed on, they meant all the more.

There weren’t many of them left now. Quinn, who’d fought so valiantly to even survive adolescence, was still hanging on, the youngest of the group at coming up to ninety-four. Estela was still there, rather more mobile than the others, but then she was stubborn, gritting her teeth through the aches and pains and soldiering on. Aleister was… struggling. Taking one day at a time since the loss of his beloved Grace some months before. But he got up in the morning, and found his inner strength when needed to chide his sister for being a pig-headed idiot pushing her shrinking limits too far. Zahra had long been a respected figure among the Vaanti, and she was still the go-to person for technological know-how, even though anyone seeking her help was advised to do so only with an armoured layer of thick skin. She did ‘cantankerous and acerbic old woman’ to perfection, and her mind remained just as sharp as her tongue.

Taylor leaned back in her chair, feet up on an ottoman and wearing a well-worn pair of slippers.

“We’re going to have to become more selective,” she admitted. “And I know we traditionally do movies, but one last Doctor Who binge?”

Everything was getting to be ‘the last time’. Diego had put off their re-watch of The Lord of the Rings trilogy time and time again for that very reason; saying goodbye needed to be given the weight it deserved. Soon, he’d brave it, but for that one, Varyyn would need to join them.

“You couldn’t have picked a longer running series, Tay?” Diego teased. “We’ve got decades of life left in us to watch this stuff, you know….”

“Oh, ha-ha. You know I’m a David Tennant era girl. The rest I’ll take or leave. Like I said, we should be selective.”

Diego grunted a chuckle, and readied the next movie in their Julie-Andrews-a-thon, The Sound of Music, pausing before pressing ‘play’.

“Hey, I said ‘selective’, not that we couldn’t watch this-- you know I love--”

“Yeah, but think of the big old family sing-along we could make out of this,” he said, eyes twinkling. “We could even drag Zahra up here, keep her heckling muscles strong.”

Taylor’s grin broadened. Her family and Diego’s family were one and the same. Liv and her spouse, Jeimy, had lived on La Huerta a few years now-- and Rosa had lived there for a few decades. Their family was human, and Vaanti, with grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and nephews and nieces, and in-laws. It was their weird little family they’d made at the end of the world, and then everything that had grown from there.

“All right, I’ll share my bestie… this time. But we’re telling the hordes to bring their own snacks.”

“You’re on.”

They waited together in companiable quiet for the others to arrive. Taylor found herself studying the peaceful profile of her old friend as he began to doze. No doubt, he still felt a young twenty-something on the inside, just as she did. She could almost still see that young man, somewhere beneath the grey hair and the wrinkles that told a lifetime of stories.

Their stories.

___________________________

La Huerta, 2078

“Here you go,” Taylor said, a smile in her voice as she pushed the door open with her hip. “Breakfast in bed. You can’t say we don’t treat our guests right!”

With a soft moan, Diego propped himself higher against his pillow. “Pancakes? Who’d have thought recovering from heart surgery could be so sweet? I’ll never want to leave this bed if you keep this up. The usual pain aside, I feel pretty lucky.”

It was fortunate indeed that he’d had somewhere to go to for help just a short hop from La Huerta. And it was fortunate indeed that Taylor and Estela’s old home had enough room for them to care for him there-- and enough space that Varyyn could exist there comfortably in secret for the necessary recovery period. It was Liv’s home now, shared with her spouse and elder daughter, though the latter had temporarily moved in with her brother at the old Montoya place to make room. Still, with six people and three bedrooms, it was a very full house.

Diego met his old friend’s eye. “Thank you. Really.”

The reply was quiet and sincere. “It’s no problem.”

Taylor helped Diego with his breakfast tray. “It looked like Varyyn was enjoying his morning stroll around the big yard. I worried about him feeling trapped here, but I guess at our pace it takes a good while even to do one lap of it all.”

“He quite likes it,” Diego said. “Which is a relief-- I feel guilty enough taking him from his home. Varyyn doesn’t like the invisibility suit much anyway, but even if he did, I don’t think he’d so much as leave the property while I’m like this.”

“You’re very loved, you know.”

“I feel it right now,” he said softly. “Sore, and scared at being faced with my own mortality, and definitely very loved.”

The company was good. Liv was something between a niece and a daughter to him, and he loved her dearly. He never saw as much of her as Taylor’s other daughter, Rosa, who now lived on La Huerta, so the opportunity to catch up was welcome. Liv’s spouse, Jeimy, was a gentle presence, quietly seeing to it that their recuperating guest could want for nothing. Like Taylor, Estela had remained close to Diego’s bedside during the frightening days in hospital, and now put her considerable will-power into ensuring he took care of himself through the next phase and offering a shoulder to Varyyn should he need it. She didn’t tend to say a whole lot, but never left it unsaid that she cared. Even those few words weren’t really needed though… Diego knew.  

Taylor’s voice cracked as she spoke again. “I’m just relieved to have home from hospital. God, actually, I’m just relieved to have you out the other side of going under,” she said. “We’ve lost too much… I’ve lost too much, and I couldn’t bear it if you….”

Diego put a bony hand on hers. He felt his own eyes welling as those dark days, not so far in the back-view mirror, came flooding back. Of Jake and Craig, and the gaping holes they’d torn with their departures, one after the other. Everyone must have been bricking it, as he’d have been if any of them had been taken into hospital for heart valve replacement surgery, a vulnerable old man of eighty-two, whose body could so easily have given up the ghost.

Taylor sniffed. “But with your ticker sorted, you’ve no excuse to bail out on me anytime soon.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Except home to La Huerta-- and maybe one last go round Disney World. I still can’t believe we got kicked out that time….”

“Ha. I blame that crowd of people wanting a picture with Varyyn-- way to get us unwanted attention!” Taylor chuckled, heartened by her friend’s ability to see beyond the recovery period. Maybe they should go and do something fun, a last hurrah. “It’s not far to Florida. I’m sure we can pull that one off… but we’ll get you healed up and recovered first. Deal? I need you to be okay.”

Diego met her eye and nodded. He’d never not take her fears for him seriously.

“No more scares. I don’t think Varyyn could take it either.”

It was strange to be in this place. Less and less he’d leave La Huerta… less and less there’d been a need to. There was no blood family left. He was contentedly retired, living the life of a revered old storyteller in Elyys’tel. And much of his chosen family-- Taylor and Estela, Grace and Aleister, and more recently Zahra, Sean and Raj-- had taken up residence back on La Huerta, choosing to spend their twilight years, well, home. The younger generation did most of the running around, visiting frequently, while the bulk of the ageing Catalyst gang remained settled in the place that had changed everything. More accustomed to life in a Vaanti village than he was the world he’d been born into, Diego had long lost the desire to go back, even to visit.

“No,” Taylor said quietly. “He’s been worried sick.”

This would probably be the last time Diego and Varyyn would visit the extended Montoya family in San Trobida. Diego had been a frequent guest at old Tio Nicolas’ place whenever Taylor and Estela were staying with him, and later was a frequent guest in this house as his friends put down their own roots. All the photographs on the dresser he’d looked at a thousand times before; Taylor and Estela on their second wedding day, young Liv with a broad grin and a gymnastics medal, a middle-aged couple he knew to be Estela’s grandparents, and one of the many, many group photos taken on a Catalyst reunion-- he’d guess the date to be sometime in the 2040s. And there was one of him and Taylor, arms around one another and grinning; he was pretty sure it had been taken at a party to celebrate the launch of his second book. It had been a pretty tipsy night, so neither remembered it being taken, but he’d always loved how damn happy he looked in that picture. Taylor had once told Diego he ‘represented her side of the family’. He felt it. This room was more home than any other off La Huerta had ever been.

“Hey?” Taylor broke the long silence. “I’m gonna go grab a slice or two of toast, but I’ll come back. If you don’t mind, can I sit up on the bed with you? I think… I’m having a clingy day.”

There was no question at all.

____________________________

La Huerta, 2070

Taylor took a deep breath as she stepped off the plane. This was it. They were home for good.

“Grandma!” came the holler of little Aurora, nine years old, soon to be wrapped in a cuddle.

“We’re here! All in one piece, thanks to Captain Georgie,” Taylor announced. It had been a few years since Georgiana and Benny took over from their father as La Huerta’s go-to pilots, and she’d been tasked the very important job of bringing two of the Catalysts back to the island.

“Can we go on the plane?” twelve-year-old Leo clamoured, peering past his grandmother.

“Why, you’re going somewhere?” Estela asked, stepping down onto the dirt and taking in the familiar scents of La Huerta.

Leo shook his head. “I’ve just never checked out the cockpit,” he said. “But I swear I’m happy to see you too!”

They all did the rounds of hugs; Taylor and Estela’s younger daughter, Rosa, lived on the island with her Vaanti husband, and the reunion was always emotional. Sean and Jake’s youngest, Georgie, also lived here-- like Diego, she was almost as culturally Vaanti as she was anything else-- and her little family had also come down to the airstrip to greet the newcomers.

Diego held back patiently, dying though he was to throw his arms around his old friend and welcome her to the rest of their lives. He wasn’t about to get between those kids and their grandmas-- both Leo and Aurora had been talking about little else for weeks.

With tears in her eyes, Taylor squeezed little Aurora as she came in for hug after hug, only letting anyone else get a look in when she latched on to Estela for a few seconds before switching again. Of Taylor and Estela’s five grandchilren, Aurora was the youngest, the only blonde of the bunch, and the one who most resembled Grandma Tay-- and not just physically. Their bond was especially tight; Aurora had been in floods of tears last time they’d said goodbye. There’d be less of that now. Of course, the trade-off was that Liv’s clan in San Trobida would become the family they’d have to fly to visit…. There was really no winning once one’s children spread their wings and put down roots away from the maternal nest; she and Estela could not be with all of them all of the time, however much they wanted to be.

“Hey, G’ma!” Leo took an opportunity to get a look in, putting an arm around his grandmother. He was as tall as her now-- how and when did that happen?

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” Taylor asked, and she had to crane her neck to kiss his head. Goddamnit, kid, stop growing so fast! “Have you been up to much while we were gone?”

“Mostly just school and stuff,” he said with a shrug. “Dad’s been giving me some guitar lessons, though.”

“You’re giving the drums a rest?”

Leo grinned, his dark eyes alight with the mischief of a kid with a penchant for making a lot of noise. “For now.”

With Leo soon back to the important business of kicking a ball up and down the beach with Georgie’s children, Niraea and Rauan, and Estela being shown the jewellery Aurora had made, Taylor exchanged hugs and greetings with Rosa and Homori. She found herself choking up as she looked over her daughter’s shoulder and into the world that had been the making of her… where she was truly home.

There was nowhere else I was ever going to wind up in the end, was there?

And there, meeting her eye, was Diego. What she didn’t owe that man…. Her smile broadened to match his, and with a kiss to Rosa’s hair, she stepped away.

“Where’s my hug, Diego? You finally got your way-- we’re here, and we’re here to stay!”

Diego laughed. “It was only ever a matter of time. I know you… and this is your happy place.”

She embraced him, then took his hand and squeezed, before raising their joined fingers to her face to wipe away those pesky tears.

“It’s really good to be home, you know? It’s really good to be home.”

________________________

La Huerta, 2060

With a grunt, Diego sat down upon the sand. They hadn’t walked far from Elyys’tel. He was tired, the toll of the past few days being felt all over.

“I’m sorry,” Taylor said heavily. “I really am sorry. For your loss, and for being a pushy jerk when you plainly told me to give you space.”

Diego gave her a soft nudge with his shoulder. He’d needed to hear it, that apology. Things had been hard, as though every part of him was in conflict, and he’d been helpless but to let it all blow up inside him. He’d needed his best friend, but mostly he’d needed her to leave him the hell alone to work out his own head.

 “Hey, you got the message eventually. Took you long enough, but… I think I can forgive you. I know Varyyn has too.”

 A fall-out with Taylor had been the last thing he’d needed, but it was just that kind of a week. Of course, his father dying had to coincide with the most vital phase of Varyyn’s handing over the title of Elyyshar to Taari, and of course Taylor in full ‘fix everyone’s problems’ mode would come in all overbearing just when he needed to be left to process. Looking back, he could see how Taylor needed to feel as though she could help, to overcompensate for the helplessness she’d been battling over her daughter’s struggles back home.

Things had been rocky between them for a few days, but space had done its job. Sitting out there in the place where they each felt most themselves, feelings and fears could come tumbling out, for he was ready for it now.

“So, now it’s just Mama,” Diego was saying. “I have even less reason to go back-- I know she wouldn’t recognise me anyway. What would I say if she did? There’s nothing more I’m willing to apologise for; I’m not apologising for being me.”

“And you shouldn’t. Not ever.”

Diego looked into his friend’s face, desperately seeking comfort as he’d done countless times before. Any anger over how she’d behaved was gone; now he was ready to talk, and he just wanted that same old honest and loving support he trusted her to give… even when the conversation itself scared him half to death. What it could say about himself… the very man he was…. When he spoke again, the words came out rushed and fearful.

“My cousins will keep visiting… I know they will. But Mama’s going to be one of those tragic dementia patients sitting abandoned in a nursing home, her only kid having wiped his hands of her. It makes me feel just sick with guilt.”

“Hey,” Taylor said gently. She  tenderly brushed a lock of her behind Diego’s ear. Her heart ached for him. It was so damn unfair, but that, it seemed, was life sometimes. All she could do was listen. And actually listen this time. “You’re getting eaten up over someone who’s betrayed your trust, who’s had every chance to put the work in and heal things but chose not to. You still love your mom, but you love yourself more. That’s not abandonment by my reckoning.”

A tear rolled down Diego’s cheek. “Just… just feels different now. The roles are reversed, and she’s the one who needs looking after.”

Taylor frowned thoughtfully. “I wish I had the answers. I really do. A big part of me wants to tell you ‘screw that asshole, she made her bed and has to lie in it’, but you’re the one who’s going to have to be able to live with yourself. If living with yourself means spending some time with her, even just one visit to get closure, it doesn’t mean you’re just bowing down to the pressure she put on you all those years. Whatever you decide, do it for you.”

They quietly watched the waves roll in.

Diego found himself envying his friend. Taylor didn’t have a family, so they couldn’t hurt her. She’d never felt rejection-- certainly not from anyone who’d promised a lifetime of love. He always came back to Taylor, it just came naturally, but the flickerings of resentment reared their heads, even as the two of them stood shoulder to shoulder on the beach. How could she possibly have a clue?

He brushed away his tears. Of all the times he’d wished he was in Taylor’s shoes instead, it always came back to truth that he was proud of the man he’d become… and that man had been shaped by the life he’d lived and the people he’d loved-- whether they returned it or not.

And Taylor… cared for him. She loved him. So, he’d take her as the wonderful, flawed person she was and appreciate her presence in his corner, even when she botched the execution. At least she screwed up and then made amends, she wasn’t too proud to be wrong. In contrast, he didn’t think he could recall an instance of his mother owning up and apologising even once in his life….

Diego sighed loudly. No one else could decide this one for him. His decision… well, he’d already decided. He just had to find a way to forgive himself.

Getting to his feet, he held out a hand to pull Taylor to hers. Then, they continued their walk. They walked the well-trodden and yet constantly-changing strip between Elyys’tel and Catalyst’tel, bare feet in the shallows, the water pleasantly cool as the sun neared the horizon.

“I know who I am,” Diego said, after another long stretch of comfortable, if emotional, hush. I’m not a cruel person.”

“Cruel is the last thing you are,” Taylor said, soft but full of conviction.

Diego’s chin trembled. Sorry, Mama. This is me knowing what I’m worth.  “My head knows I can’t give Mama any more. My heart’s just going to need to learn to let go.”

They fell quiet once more.

“Sunset’s really pretty tonight….” Diego said quietly after a while. “Guess it’s not all doom and gloom.”

And in the morning… the sun would rise again.

_______________________

La Huerta, 2042

“I wanted to put something to you,” Taylor said nervously. “It’ll need you and Varyyn to sit with it a bit, so don’t worry about giving me an answer now.”

“That sounds… pretty ominous to be honest.”

This was supposed to be just a relaxing stroll along the beach before dinner, but Diego was immediately on alert for something big. Admittedly, Taylor had dropped some pretty gargantuan bombs on him in the past.

Taylor chuckled and shook her head. “Before you freak out-- we’d like you to be Rosa’s godfather. Or the agnostic equivalent anyway. Basically, if anything were to happen to ‘Stel and me, you and Liv would share custody of Rosa and take care of her together-- whether it’s here or back in San Trobida.”

Diego took it in with a nod, turning it over in his head. She was asking the world and giving the world… but was it her heart talking over her head?

“You don’t think-- I mean, I’m sure you’ve thought of this-- that in a worst-case scenario she’d do better with some of the guys in San Trobida who she’s got to know a bit more?”

Diego watched as his friend’s face crumpled before him. “I’m sorry-- I didn’t mean--”

Taylor turned away, wrestling with herself as emotion overcame her. “God, you don’t have to be sorry. It’s… it’s what Estela said initially too.” She looked back to Diego, her eyes rimmed with red. “It’s just different with you. What we have is special; I’ll never have a connection like that with another person. You’re my other home.”

“Is one not enough for you? Greedy cow,” Diego teased gently, but he wrapped Taylor in his arms as he did so, bringing her in so they were forehead-to-forehead. He got it. His deep sense of belonging with Varyyn didn’t take away the warmth and security he gleaned from the tight bond he had with Taylor. It was more like… a familial bond. They’d each grown and gone their separate ways, but a piece of their hearts resided with one another and always would.

“I would always, always be there for your girls,” he said.

“I know….” Taylor said shakily. “You’ve just been such an amazing ‘special uncle’ to Liv; it would be wonderful for Rosa, you know? She needs all the support systems we can give her.” She sighed, and gave a weak laugh. “It goes without saying, doesn’t it. I guess… I guess….”

As she trailed off, Diego considered her quietly. Taylor’s past year had been intense, and the distance between them had made it difficult for him to be the shoulder he wanted to be her. The bags under her eyes were telling, and the way she so clearly longed for closeness with him.

“It’s hardly a surprise… mortality being on your mind. What with the anniversary just been,” he said quietly.

Twelve months prior, Estela had been grievously injured in an attack by a young and brash admirer of the late General Salazar. Vastly more experienced in fighting as she was, Estela had managed to stave off mortal harm, but it had been far too close a shave for comfort. Miles and miles away, Diego had been there with Taylor, talking her through the terror and despair down a phone line. Of course, Jake flew a plane to bring him back to San Trobida as soon as he could, but he felt his isolation from the rest of the world in a way he rarely had before or since. His best friend had him now, though.

Taylor nodded, sniffing. “I thought I’d moved on from it. ‘Stel’s going strong. We actually needed a jolt to make us stop and really consider how we wanted the rest of our lives to look-- maybe we wouldn’t even have Rosi now if it wasn’t for the wake-up call. But it scared the absolute shit out of me.

“Obviously, I don’t think either of us are going anywhere, or we wouldn’t have even thought about adopting. It just sneaks up on me with how close we came. Life’s pretty fragile.”

“How are things going with Rosa?” Diego ventured gently. “Smooth sailing since we last talked?”

“She seems pretty happy, doesn’t she?” Taylor replied, fully aware of just how obvious her deflection was. But this was Diego, so she relented and shared. “I think security will come in time for her. Right now the threshold for meltdowns is really low-- the slightest hint of either of us using a stern tone with her or being disapproving in any way, and she goes to pieces.” She gave a dry little laugh. “Obviously I feel a complete asshole for ragging on Estela that first time it happened. Rosa barely gives us a reason to reprimand her in any way, she’s so desperate to please, but we’re human beings and we get frustrated.”

“Bet it makes you feel like absolute shit, though! Only human or not.”

Taylor met his eye and nodded again. “It’s a lot. I’m with her all day-- though we’re confident she’ll be ready to go to a real school next year-- and I’m hyper-aware of how she’s perceiving me. I’m pretty sure she is happy for the most part; her speaking’s come on in leaps and bounds, and there’s so much affection between us.” She gave a sad shrug. “I just wish so badly that she didn’t have that fear, that she knew with total certainty that she’s ours unconditionally. She doesn’t deserve to be scared like she is.”

“It’s just time, you know?” Diego said gently. “You did a pretty good job of convincing me you were unconditional, and I had even more years of baggage collected than Rosi does. Just… time.”

“Yeah….” Taylor’s shoulders slumped. There was no magic shortcut.

“I’ll come and pay you another visit-- soon. I want to stay with you a while; if what’s holding me back from saying yes is that Rosa doesn’t know me well enough, then we fix that. She’s basically my niece, and I already love her; we’re on catch-up compared to Liv at that age, but I’ll work on it ‘til we get there.”

A smile came to Taylor’s face, growing ever-broader.

“What?” said Diego, “I take it you’re on board with that? I don’t need to Airbnb it?”

Taylor couldn’t help but laugh. “Buddy, how long have you been out here? Airbnb went down the tubes years ago! And you know full well, if you come to San Trobida and stay anywhere other than the Casa Montoya, I will be mortally wounded.”

“Heh, well, I can’t have that.”

#endless summer #playchoices #diego soto #taylor montoya #estela x taylor #variego

[marmolady]

Grandchildren: Sol and Andi

Summary: Endless Ending timeline. Middle-aged Taylor and Estela are entering a new phase of their life together, welcoming their grandchildren into the family. In four parts; this is PART ONE.

Word Count: 4117

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, ​@mauvecatfic @rhemenway888

Thanks for reading!

_____________________________

2055

Taylor pulled out an old plastic tub from under the bed.

“You coming, ‘Stel?”

It had been many years since they’d gone through all these things; treasures from their Liv’s baby and toddler days. Many years, but it felt like yesterday that little kid was crawling around their La Huerta home, bright-eyed and curious about a world that was all new.

Estela came into the bedroom and sat down on the rug beside Taylor, her eye going straight to a little cardigan.

“So long since you’ve knitted,” she commented. “You were good at it.”

Where had the time been for knitting while Liv was growing up? And then Rosa… though Taylor had managed to finish a couple of jumpers for their second daughter over the years, desperate that she too have something mom-made to hang on to. Now, Rosa was twenty, and though she still enjoyed the security of the maternal home, she was pretty much independent as she made her way through college. It was a good a time as any for Taylor to break out the old knitting needles and create something for a new generation.

“Thanks-- it always was kind of therapeutic. Maybe it’s time I get myself back in the knitting zone, make it part of my whole grandma asthetic.”

Liv was expecting. And Liv’s spouse Jeimy was expecting. Liv was carrying Jeimy’s genetic child, and Jeimy carried Liv’s. That they’d gone and had embryos transferred almost simultaneously had been, as Liv had put it, ‘just not wanting to put all our eggs in one basket’. Chances were, the first transfer wouldn’t be a success, but if they both gave it a shot, there was simply more chance of a baby-- one way or the other. But then, they’d gone and gotten extremely lucky. Liv’s cousin Reggie, already a father of three, had shaken his head in exasperation, declaring her ‘absolutely stark raving bonkers’. And the expectant grandmothers… could neither disagree, nor contain their jubilation at the news. It was unorthodox, but Liv and Jeimy would be given every support. They’d handled far worse ‘absolutely stark raving bonkers’ than a couple of babies on the way.

Estela smiled softly. Grandma Taylor was going to be about the cutest thing she’d ever see. “We’ll have to set you up with a rocking chair.”

Since the death of Tio Nicolas a couple of years prior, Estela and Taylor had lived in a small house two doors down from the Valle Brava home where they’d raised Liv from the age of eleven. It had been fortuitious that it had come up; while Nicolas had been ill, they’d lived with him to provide care, but soon missed the proximity to their elder daughter and child-in-law. Rather than build a granny flat in the back of the property, they had that little bit more space that allowed Rosa to stay home while she found her feet in adult life, and got to reconnect with a community they’d loved being a part of. Grace and Aleister still lived just a few minutes up the road, and their now-grown children visited regularly. It had been deeply emotional for Estela to leave behind the home she’d grown up in, but she sensed that for this next phase of life, this was where she was meant to be.

She became quiet, sorting through the onesies, and booties, and bibs, and bobble hats. The years just slipped away from her. She couldn’t stop it. The baby who’d worn these things was still that baby in her mind’s eye, and yet… all the things they’d shared, the full days and long nights, tears against her shoulder, puddles jumped in, bedtime stories, bike rides across the countryside, snowball fights, actual fights, hugs that lingered for hours… they were all still so real as well.

“We’ll have to warn Livita not to blink. It goes much too fast.”

Taylor looked up and met her wife’s eye, choked. Too fast by half.

The door swung open and Rosa came through, a couple of bags under her arm. “Have you found much?” Then she saw the large container, bursting at the seams. “Woah! Just… a lot.”

“Yes, just a lot,” Taylor admitted. “We’re pretty sentimental.”

“That’s not news,” said Rosa, and she sat down, drawn wide-eyed to the tiny clothes. “God, if I wasn’t broody before….”

Estela laughed gently. “We’ll make sure plenty of this finds its way to your little ones.”

Rosa ran her fingers over a little onesie, one she knew had been sewn by her Mama Taylor. How different Liv’s early days had been to Rosa’s….

“I wish I’d had stuff kept,” she said quietly. “I’m pretty sure everything got recycled, one baby after another until it was worn. Not that I’m opposed to reusing clothes--”

“Hon, you don’t need to defend yourself,” Taylor said.

Rosa’s cheeks pinkened. “It’s just nice to have some things that were made, or even just given, with love… especially for you. Do you remember my sunflower dress? I think it was the first thing you bought me the first time we went to the market together.”

“I remember it.”

“I cried so much when I outgrew it.”

“We have it, Rosita,” Estela told her. “Of course we have a ‘Rosa box’. No baby clothes, but the memories mean as much.”

“You kept it?”

“I’m sure we told you at the time, but you were eight or nine or something… it’s a long time ago to remember.”

Rosa bounced happily on the spot. “Oh my god!”

In no time, the three of them were looking through two big tubs of childhood memories. The bags Rosa had brought with her soon filled up with things deemed nice enough to pass on, but not so precious no one could bear their getting damaged. And Rosa held her special first Montoya family dress in her lap.

“Mom,” she said, getting Taylor’s attention-- an achievement when there were baby-Liv-sized bobble hats to be cooed over-- “do you think you could teach me how to sew? I’d love to make a patchwork blanket or something for the babies. I could even use pieces of my old clothes; that way I can at least pass something on.”

Taylor’s face split into the biggest of grins. “Baby, I would love that! We can have a proper sewing bee.”

“I’ve been wanting to start for a long time; I just get… daunted, you know….”

Her moms knew. Rosa and ‘new things’ was an ongoing challenge, but one she was winning. Stability in her life had been hard to find, so any perceived change, even good ones, brought up a fear response. Becoming an aunt… was genuinely frightening. Rosa was afraid of losing the closeness she had with her older sister. She was afraid the babies would reject her love. She was afraid to be faced with her own desires to be a mother… when the only person she’d ever imagined wanting to raise children with was highly impractical. But mostly, she was afraid of the unknown of it all. Rosa’s family unit had been consistent, all the way up until they lost Tio Nicolas. Of all the things to change, her family was the one she feared most.

“Well,” Estela said, “now we know it’s something you want to do, we’ll work on it.”

___________________________

Estela passed Liv a coffee-- her daily ration since pregnancy began. “Did you manage to sleep?”

Nine months pregnant, Liv felt like a blimp on legs. Nothing was comfortable, and after a false alarm and being told to keep waiting at home, she certainly couldn’t turn her brain off enough to get any quality rest.

“A little,” Liv replied, gratefully taking the mug. “Jeimy kept me company while I was awake, though. I think I got more sleep than they did.”

Estela looked over her child-in-law, who was reclining on the couch, dark bags under their eyes, and looking every bit as heavily pregnant as Liv.

“You’re sure you don’t want anything, Lorito?”

The nickname had always deeply touched Jeimy, a lover of birds, their mother-in-law’s ‘little parrot’. Estela actually said that ‘little songbird’ would be more accurate, but pájaro cantorito was rather more of a mouthful. At any rate, Jeimy loved ‘Lorito’, for the term of endearment was one their beloved grandmother had once bestowed upon them herself. Without realising she was doing it, Estela had helped Jeimy feel closer to their deceased lola-- really, all of their birth family-- than they had in years.

Jeimy shook their head. “I’m fine. I was gonna drag myself out of my chair in a moment anyway and do my bird round.”

Liv groaned. “Oh my god, Jeimy! Just lay off the damn chores-- you hardly slept, and you’re having a baby in five days!”

She needn’t have worried. No one was overdoing anything when abuela-to-be Estela was around. It was all good practice for when Liv and Jeimy really had their hands full and needed a hand with their various animals. Estela had housesat several times before, so it was really just a case of brushing up on feeding routines and the who’s who of Jeimy’s beloved collection of rescued birds.

“Thanks for this,” Jeimy said, tickling the belly of a colourful parakeet through the aviary wire. “I know you and Mama Taylor-- and Rosi-- are here to help, but it’s easier to accept help when I’m at least able to do a little bit.”

Estela laughed. “I’ll have you take care of the bitey ones for me as long as I can. I’ve got enough scars to be going on with. Anyway… it’s good for you to hang onto some semblance of your normal. It won’t be easy soon.”

It certainly wouldn’t. It had been a gamble to implant two embryos simultaneously, and miraculous as it felt to have two babies now on the way, the reality of what they were facing was hitting hard. Help would be close on hand from Liv’s family, but the care already being lavished served to highlight to Jeimy their estrangement from their own.

“I just wish things were different with my family,” Jeimy admitted. “When you imagine starting your own… you don’t exactly envision your parents not wanting to be a part of it.” They sighed. “I miss my mom. I shouldn’t, after the way she treated me, but it wasn’t always like that. I miss the mom who I thought would always love me.”

“It only makes sense that it’s hurting now… I’d think it would add a new layer of hurt when you have a child of your own,” Estela said, a hint of a growl in her voice. “Your mom and dad are lucky they’ve never strayed across my path.”

The thought made Jeimy chuckle, in spite of the surging pain. Their Mama Estela would take no prisoners.

“Heh, I’d bet. I wish it was as simple as just whoopin’ their asses into being decent parents.

“It’s like…,” they said, “I already love the babies, so, so much. And I don’t have favourites, but I already feel like I’ve bonded with Little Boy; I can feel him there, and I know him. I just don’t know how the hell anyone could feel love like this, and then turn their back on their child. The more time goes by, the more fucked-up it seems to be. I was meant to be their baby.”

Her heart aching in sympathy, Estela instinctively rubbed Jeimy’s shoulder. “It is fucked-up, and it’s not what you deserve.” It was difficult to fathom, even being so well-acquainted with the depths of human depravity. These assholes didn’t have a clue how lucky they were to have the ability to watch their child grow up, to blossom into a strong and capable adult-- they’d thrown it away in a fit of cruelty, while some parents would have done anything at all to be there for their child.

“I wish we could give you what you’re missing. I know we can’t, however much we might want to fill that hole, it doesn’t take away what you’ve lost and how you’ve been hurt.”

Estela loved Jeimy fiercely; her protective instincts flaring up almost immediately upon meeting the meek and gentle person who’d left Liv so lovestruck. Over time, she’d seen the core of steel that had gotten Jeimy through the hardest of times alone, and admired them.

But she wasn’t their mom. Taylor wasn’t their mom. What they shared with Liv, and with Rosa, was something different.

“You’re family, mijo.”

“Sort of,” Jeimy murmured. Liv was their family, so the connections they married into were what they had to hang on to when the faces of the past were beyond reach.

Estela shrugged. “We make our own. Blood isn’t the most important thing you can share with someone. It can be nice, sure, but it’s not everything.”

Jeimy considered Estela quietly. They’d been absolutely bricking it when they first met her all those years ago, with Liv having painted a picture of a hardened warrior who was a fluffy little kitten on the inside. The walls had come down faster than they’d imagined.

“I’m nervous about the birth,” they said after a long break in the conversation. “I think that’s part of why I keep thinking of Mom. And I think, she’s not even the person I’d really want with me… she’s just a substitute because she’s part of what my family used to be. I really wish my lola could be with me through this. She was magic how she could make anything all right… and she’d want to be here. She loved me.” Then, Jeimy ventured a subject they’d never dared bring up with Estela. “Was it hard not having your mom with you when Liv was born?”

“Well, yeah-- she wouldn’t have even been that old, only fifty two! She shouldn’t have been dead-- she should’ve been there. She wasn’t holding my hand because they stole it from us. Everything she did for me… she deserved to be there and see that everything could be perfect. Liv was perfect.” Estela swallowed hard.

“She still is,” said Jeimy with a soft smile.

“Yeah… she is,” Estela agreed proudly. “Mami would have adored her-- she’d have adored both of you. I think you and Livita both chose the right person to be taking this on with… even if you are crazy going for two babies at once.”

Jeimy giggled, the tension flowing from their body. Beyond the-- to be expected-- nerves, there was excitement. Excitement so big that the fear could be overcome. “There’s no doubt we’re crazy. I’m terrifed, but I also can’t wait to have our family of the four of us.”

Their babies… they couldn’t come soon enough.

_________________________

The room was silent; they could’ve heard a pin drop. But the agonising silence was broken instead by the cry of a newborn, rising in strength as she found her breath.

“There we go,” said the midwife warmly, “your baby girl has arrived. Little darling just needed a moment.”

Jeimy put their hands to their face and sobbed, but Liv lay slumped and dazed, utterly spent, barely comprehending the activity around her. All she knew was a sudden emptiness, both physical and emotional.

“...She’s okay….”

Estela squeezed Liv’s hand tight. “She’s okay. You did it, mi alma.”

The infant was quickly transferred to Liv’s chest, and with assistance from Jeimy, the new mother rolled down her gown to allow the little one to feel the warmth of her skin, and to try and nurse.

She sniffed, still stunned, but gradually coming through the haze to a joy and a love unlike anything she’d ever known. She’d done it… their little girl was there in her arms. It all slowly fell into place; the empty space was alarming, but that baby she loved was right there, and she was holding her.

“...Hello, little one… it’s me… I’m right here….” she murmured, taking in the scent of the tiny child’s head as she nuzzled close to her.

She glanced up to Jeimy, who huddled in, shaking, their breath caught in their throat. This was it… they actually had a baby together.

“Hey, Little Girl…,” Jeimy gushed, “I’m your nanay. I’ve been waiting for you!”

But it was time the baby graduated from being just ‘Little Girl’.

“W-we wanted to call her ‘Andromeda’, but, well, ‘Andi’. Less of a mouthful,” Liv said after a little while. “Oh my god, she’s so perfect! Look at her little fingers….”

Jeimy was beaming, and still fending off the tears that rolled down their face. “She’s the most perfect thing in the whole world. Well… tied, I guess. How the heck are we ever going to get anything done with two of these to look at?”

Taylor chuckled. She couldn’t stop smiling; her cheeks ached terribly and it was absolutely wonderful. She hugged Estela, and was held tightly in return, finding herself feeding off the giddiness infectious in the room. “It’s going to be a challenge, that’s for sure. Good thing you’ve got as much help as you want. You’ve got this.”

Jeimy kissed baby Andi’s soft little head, then kissed Liv. “So… she’s baby Andi. I think we were gonna go with….” They paused for the nodded approval from Liv. “…Andromeda Chesa Montoya. ‘Chesa’ was my lola’s name, so we really wanted to use it. And we looked it up, and it means ‘celestial’.”

“Isn’t that just perfect?” Liv’s eyes were shining as she looked up at her moms. She knew well the significance for them. “And we really liked that ‘Andi’ is pretty gender-neutral. That’s what we’re going for with Little Boy’s name too.” That, though, would remain under wraps until he made his own appearance.

There was a blur of activity. Baby Andi enjoyed her first feed, then her first cuddle with a weeping and elated nanay Jeimy, while Liv used the little strength she had left in her to deliver the afterbirth. In no time, the family was transferred to a comfortable recovery room. Jeimy had assistance from the nurse in putting on the diaper and the best technique for swaddling, and was soon back on cuddle-duty.

Taylor put a gentle arm around her daughter’s shoulder. Her baby girl was a mom now, and she could just about burst with pride.

“We’ll let you get some rest, okay? Have some bonding time in peace-- god knows, you deserve it.”

Estela nodded solemnly, tears pricking at her eyes. “You’ve been so strong. We’re proud of you, and we love you.”

“Quick cuddle first, though, yeah?” Liv urged softly. “She’s so, so special to me. I want you to meet her properly.”

Her heart beating fast, Estela sat down on the comfortable couch by the window. How the hell she was going to keep from bursting into outright sobs she had no clue. She caught Taylor’s eye, as she sat down beside her, and saw the very same exhilaration. Neither of them had known the love of a grandparent, or even that of a grandparent figure. It was something new, a sign of the stability their family had found. They were surviving… they were thriving. And the future only looked bright. Her mom would’ve wanted nothing more.

They took the little bundle between them, and shared a held breath. With her free hand, Estela wiped her eyes.

“It’s good to meet you at last, nena…. Welcome to the world.”

Taylor grinned, giddy. “You’re gonna love it.”

______________________

It was a good thing, Taylor noted, that a large recovery suite was available for Liv and Jeimy--it was unusual to have the necessity of two hospital beds in a private maternity room. She recalled that sometime, many years ago, Estela and Aleister had jointly poured a good deal of funds into this hospital, though this private wing had been developed later. The room was nice… bright and airy, and overlooking the central gardens below.

Baby Andi, though, cared not for the comforts. She couldn’t see further than the blurry faces that kept smiling down on her. It had been a long time since Taylor had held a two-day old baby, and she was totally addicted. Taking care of the precious little one while Jeimy was in for the scheduled C-section was about the best gig she’d ever been offered.

“Your water, Grandma?” Estela offered, coming in from the bathroom. She was tense, coming down from the cloud-nine of Andi’s birth two days prior and anxious for news about the second baby. The not knowing what was happening was painful, but it was how it had to be. Liv was no longer their little girl, and hadn’t been for many years. She’d know the same aching maternal tug someday, of that Estela was sure. Andi and her brother would be off and away and living their lives before anyone could so much as blink….

Taylor smiled at her. The air was thick with nerves, and she could see it clear as day in her wife’s face. “Thanks, love. Actually, you look like you need a cuddle,” she said. “If you pop my glass down, I’ll pass you Miss Andi-Pants.”

It had all taken a long time. The scheduled C-section had been pushed back due to an emergency, and the ongoing wait only became more harrowing. There was no reason why Jeimy and the baby wouldn’t be fine… it wasn’t as if there was a life-threatening complication that had prompted the section, it was just a simple case of the baby being breach. But surgery was surgery, and childbirth was inherently risky; no one was breathing easy until everyone was accounted for, safe and sound.

They looked up simultaneously as the squeaking of hospital bed wheels pre-empted the opening of the door. And then, there before them was the rest of the newly formed family; Liv leading the way, Jeimy sat up and beaming in the bed, and a swaddled treasure in their arms.

“Oh, thank god!” Taylor gushed. “Everyone doing all right?”

“Everyone’s amazing,” Liv grinned. “And we’ve got someone special to introduce you to.” She exchanged a glance with Jeimy, who carefully placed the bundle in her arms with a mouthed ‘love you’.

“We’d like you to meet your grandson, Sol Nicolas Montoya.”

Estela gave a sharp intake of breath at the name. She wasn’t surprised; Tio Nicolas had basically been a grandfather to Liv, and she’d always idolised him, but to hear it touched her deeply. Sol would be lucky indeed to have anything of his great-great uncle about him.

“That means a lot,” she said softly. “His name.”

“It seems like we’ve got a family tradition going of naming babies after special people. Actually-- we did think about doing the whole she-bang and calling him ‘Draco’, but the Harry Potter connection is still too damn strong.”

Estela chuckled. “You can name a dog after me as a compromise, I won’t be offended.”

She looked into her newborn grandson’s wrinkled little face, and was enchanted. Sol had much more hair than his sister; actually, he didn’t look much like her-- he looked like baby Liv.

“Livita, he looks about as much like you as Andi looks like Jeimy.”

“Really?” Jeimy asked. “I think he’s got Michael’s eyes and nose. Maybe he’s an equal mix of both.”

“Much bigger than Michael, though--,” Liv said, a smile in her voice as she looked over her baby son, “nine pounds two.”

Taylor whistled. “That is a substantial baby. Good for you, Sollie. I can actually see it-- Andi looks so little next to him.” She looked up at Liv, terrible wrench as it was to tear her gaze from the baby’s darling face for even a moment. “Michael’s on his way?”

“Yeah, and he’s going to bring Auntie Rosa with him. Sounds like they were waiting for news together.”

 Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Estela put a gentle arm around Jeimy’s shoulder. “How are you feeling, mijo?”

“Seeing how big my ‘little’ man actually is, grateful for the C-section,” they said with a smirk. “According to the nurse, everything went completely smoothly. It was the most surreal feeling, like I was half-disconnected from the lower part of my body. I have to remind myself that it’s actually happened-- he’s here-- this little guy, that’s my boy. That baby I’ve been connected to all these months.”

Jeimy gazed at the little hand that grasped his Grandma Taylor’s finger. At Liv bursting with pride as she cuddled Andi beside them. At Abuela Estela standing protectively over them all. They couldn’t want for more; what mattered was here.

“Yeah, ‘surreal’ is definitely the word.”

#endless summer #endless summer fanfiction #estela montoya #estela x mc #liv montoya #jeimy montoya #rosita montoya #far future #happy families!

[marmolady]

WIP Dump!

I am actually still writing Endless Summer fanfic, believe it or not. It's just... slow. @mauvecatfic @rhemenway888 @sceptilemasterr I'm still here, quiet though I am!

In addition to the fics mentioned here, I'm also working on my 'Montoya grandchildren' collection, and my 'reunions' collection, and at some write some more glimpses into other Catalysts' family lives. As my 'main' post-canon story is long concluded, I'm mostly doing slice of life stuff and not much too heavy. That is, except for potential explorations of the end of the Catalysts' lives. I've already written Taylor's death scene. BUT I have been working on that particular fic on and off for literally years.

Snippets below the cut:

The first thing I've been working on is a series of windows into Taylor and Diego's friendship over the years, including far, far into the future. I think it's about halfway written, so it could be the next piece to make an appearance here and on AO3.

A snippet....

“Hey--” Taylor said as she settled down amongst the soft cushions of her favourite chair, knowing full well she’d be needing to call in assistance when the time came to haul her old body up from them, “I came up with the perfect idea for our next marathon.”

“’Marathon’? Between the two of us, we’re lucky to get through one movie without someone dozing off.” Diego grinned at his friend. His best friend of seventy years.

“That’s what makes it a marathon, because it takes so damn long. We take our time, savouring the laughs, the tears, and appreciating the artform.” A glass of wine, some cheeses to break up the films. And the two of them would reminisce, and Diego would point out his favourites of the crew’s filmmaking choices… or those that were notably bad.

“How about ‘the Zac Efron trifecta’?” Taylor suggested, showning her age. “High School Musical, followed by Hairspray, followed by The Greatest Showman.”

“Let’s just see if we can get through ‘Julie Andrews Fest’ first, okay?”

They did this fairly often. Just chilling out to the tune of films meeting their assigned theme. At the age they were, ‘just chilling out’ was pretty much requisite. Taylor’s arthritis had worsened considerably in the last year, and Diego’s respiratory issues were easily triggered by any amount of exertion. They were reasonably healthy nonogenerians… but they were nonogenerians.

______________________

Otherwise, you'll be seeing this next; some nice Taystela Valentine's fluff. Because so help me I love some Taystela fluff, and if anyone deserves ALL-THE-FLUFF it is Estela Montoya.

A snippet:

“‘Safe’ sounds perfect. As long as there’s no danger, people can stare all they want-- I’m in love with this woman, and I could not be less ashamed.”

Again, Estela momentarily glanced from the road to catch her wife’s eye, to return the smile there. “Don’t worry. I’m not taking you anywhere I couldn’t kiss you. I’ve suffered enough in my life.”

Taylor chuckled darkly, the knowing laugh of someone who knew all to well what it was to go through hell and back… and to try and embrace the happy ending on the other side in spite of the traumas that wouldn’t let go.

“I’m glad to hear it,” she said. “On both counts.”

___________________

Aaaaaand my baby Rosa gets to head to La Huerta for the first time!

A snippet:

“Where are you headed?” the driver had asked, to which Rosa’s Mama Taylor had replied with, “It’s a secret-- don’t want to spoil the surprise for the little one.”

Rosa pretty much knew where they were going-- she’d heard all about it-- but it sounded so mysterious, it seemed likely there would be surprises when she got there. So much of what she’d been told sounded like magic. The taxi driver wasn’t part of the family, so they couldn’t talk about the place where they were flying to while he could hear.

 They were all headed to the special island, the one where Rosa’s moms first met, years and years ago. It would be Rosa and her new family. And… all these other people. Including Uncle Raj, whom she’d just met the day before. He’d stayed at their house overnight before everyone flew out, and was now sharing their taxi to the airport. It was a little bit scary, because he wasn’t just a new adult to meet, but a very, very big one, and very energetic. But Uncle Raj must have known those things were scary for Rosa, because he’d knelt down to her and talked all calm. He seemed kind and gentle-- and at dinner, he’d even whipped her up a special glittery drink with cotton candy on top. ‘Her signature drink’ he’d called it. Rosa liked Uncle Raj, and she hoped that the other new people would be just as nice.

“Oh, a surprise holiday? Qué niña tan afortunada!”

Rosa could barely hold in a giggle at the sight of Raj, who looked just about to burst with the excitement of the secrets they were keeping from the driver-- well, from all the world. It made her feel better, taking the edge off her jitters. It had to be something good they were on their way to.

__________________________

#endless summer #playchoices #estela montoya #diego soto

[marmolady]

Reunion: 2026

Main Pairings: Jake x Sean (I'll call it Gaykenzie)

Sean and Jake have gotten closer.... One for you, @yukkimons! It basically picks up where the first wedding in 'Four Weddings' takes off.

Do feel free to shout out a year between 2024 and 2097 if you want me to write a specific one next. You can find the full series (in progress) here on AO3.

Word Count: 1256

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, ​@mauvecatfic @rhemenway888

Thanks for reading! Comments and re-blogs make me EXTRA happy. Always happy to nerd out about these characters with other fans.

_______________________

The dead of night saw The Celestial still and quiet, all its occupants having long since succumbed to sleep after a typically exhausting first-day-of-the-reunion party. Almost all of them, anyway.

Tonight, Jake shared his suite with Sean, who’d managed to slip in unnoticed-- it helped that everyone else was too dead on their feet to care for anything other than getting swiftly to bed. After a long evening of yearning glances, they lay together entangled and gleefully free of the need for subtlty.

“Still don’t suppose anyone’s twigged we’ve been dancing the horizontal tango?”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Jake shrugged his shoulders, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And here I thought ya didn’t want me to be crude about it….”

Sean met his lover’s eye, the gaze making him hot under the collar, whether he’d admit to it or not. God, he’s a cocky bastard.

“’Crude’,” he said, “doesn’t really do justice to what we do together.”

“So… horizontal tango it is?”

“Because everything’s a nickname with you… I guess it is.” Sean lowered himself down onto the bed, scooching so that his torso was pressed against Jake’s. “And I think we’re in the clear. Craig hasn’t said anything, and if he’s not suspicious, it means Zahra isn’t either.”

“And if she ain’t onto us, we’re good, ‘cause no one figures anything out before Skrillex does.”

“Pretty much my reasoning.” Sean couldn’t help but find his gaze falling again and again on Jake’s lips, the teasing smile.

This… this thing between them, it had been a secret for their own sanity really. They both had busy lives, always moving around as their careers bade them. There wasn’t a lot of room to hash out a stable relationship, and so this thing had been as transient as other aspects of their lives. But since Quinn and Michelle’s wedding, and that first hook up, they just kept finding their way back to one another’s arms and beds. Estela, Jake was pretty certain, had a fair inkling something was going down, for she’d been the one to push him to make a move to begin with, and that meant Taylor probably had an idea as well, but otherwise, they’d so far managed to keep the development on the down-low. Sure, it would all come out sooner or later, but going into a serious relationship was, for both of them, a big deal, with a lot of baggage coming with it. It was just easier to find their way without the added pressure of eagerly watching eyes.

They couldn’t be together all the time, but that connection was undeniable. If Sean hadn’t had Jake these past months… well, it wouldn’t have felt like he’d had a home to come go home to. It didn’t matter where they were when they found time to be together; it always felt like the one place on earth where he was meant to be.

Jake sucked his cheeks, mulling something over. It was putting too much pressure on this to make it a big public deal while so much was still uncertain, but… at the same time, so much was certain. Jake knew how he felt for one thing. This was serious, so why not start talking things out with select people?

“While we’re here, you oughtta tell, Drax.”

Sean looked up, surprised. “I guess that means things are getting pretty serious.”

“Yeah, I know you’ve been dyin’ to bring him in on it. Besides, makes it fair-- Katniss already knows what’s up, and you should have someone cheerin’ you on as well.”

“Ha-- he’ll certainly be doing that.”

Jake met Sean’s eyes, questioning. “Do you want to keep things how they are? Are you happy?”

Sean brought his hand to Jake’s cheek, caressing his fingers over rough stubble. “I’m happy. I think… a part of me is waiting for things to get easier. The gig I’m in, it’s blink and you’ll miss it, and your time’s up. One of the downsides is… I gotta be fully in it.”

“Rough deal when your hot piece of ass won’t stay in one place either.”

“Jacob Lucas McKenzie, you did not just refer to yourself as ‘my hot piece of ass’….”

“If the boot fits….”

Sean took his hand from Jake’s face to give his rear end a squeeze. “Huh. Well, it is hard to argue with that one.”

Jake’s expression became serious once more. Being open, being real, it came more easily these days, but he knew he’d never be a heart-on-his-sleeve guy. “I want you, babe. Now, when you’re putting in for retirement, always. Part-time don’t mean it ain’t serious, ‘cause I am deadly serious. It’s you, Pretty Boy.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sean said quietly. He sucked a breath, then trusted himself to let the words go. “I love you. There-- I said it.”

Jake was silent for a moment, rapt. “Beat me to it,” he said at last, and it took an effort not to chuckle at the plain relief upon his lover’s face.”You… don’t mind if I say it back?”

Sean gave a giddy little laugh. “Sure. Go for it.”

“Alright. No point dancing around it; I love you too. Scares the shit outta me sometimes, but in the same way my first flight scared the shit outta me. The kind that says ‘this is everything, don’t you goddamn lose it’.

“You won’t,” Sean said, solemn. “I know you won’t. Remember how pig-headed we both were when we first came here? Both of those idiots on the same side… absolutely indomitable.”

“Yeah, I actually believe it too. I think my body just still ain’t used to optimism.”

“We’ll just have to keep working on that. I know it’s how I’ve got through so far.” Sean pressed his forehead into his steepled hands. “See, I knew I was never gonna have a long career doing this. No one ever does. I always knew going in that I couldn’t push it, that I had to put my future beyond football first-- not let it screw all that up like my dad did.” He sighed, and looked back up at Jake, his dark eyes soft. “I couldn’t really picture that future, just knowing I wanted to somehow have a family. I believed in it, ‘cause that’s how I get by, but I couldn’t see it clear. The thing is, it’s not ‘somehow’ anymore. What I’ve got to look forward to is you. And suddenly a flash in the pan career is almost a blessing.”

Jake cupped Sean’s chin. “Hey. You hang up those shoulder-pads, that ain’t the end for you, hear me? Any mountain you want to climb, you got it. And you’ll always be my QB. The things I’ve seen you do? Don’t matter if it’s having that family you’re dreaming of, or saving the world before breakfast, I’ll be behind you all the way.”

Sean closed the distance, drawing Jake into a kiss and inviting him to linger there. This week… it wouldn’t be long enough. So now, he kissed him hard, desperately like a man running out of time. And he wasn’t the only one; the response was breathtaking-- leaving Sean grasping his fingers into Jake’s long hair just to remain steady.

Then, they slowed, the kisses becoming lingering and languid.

“I found some crazy things out here. Nothing comes close to you. You… always did make me crazy.”

“Ha. I’m a one-of-a-kind.” Jake winked. “Don’t worry, Pretty Boy. The Jake-crazies look mighty good on you.”

#endless summer #playchoices #jake mckenzie #sean gayle #sean x jake #jake x sean #gaykenzie #marmo's reunions project

[marmolady]

Isla

Main Pairings: Michelle x Quinn

Summary: Michelle and Quinn bring home their new baby girl.

Word Count: 7748

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, ​@mauvecatfic @rhemenway888

Thanks for reading!

_____________________

“This is insane. In. Sane.” Michelle dropped her bobby pin and swore. However she’d anticipated becoming a mother, this sure as hell wasn’t it. But somehow… now that the possibility was there… it fit. She raised her eyes to Quinn’s, and accepted the retrieved pin with shaking fingers. “I want to say ‘yes’,” she said quietly, but with so much more conviction than she herself had expected. “So, what happens next? I’m guessing we sit down with Jen and have a conversation between the three of us.”

Quinn took Michelle’s hands in her own, squeezing them until the metal of the pin pressed into her skin, and met that strong gaze.

“I… I want to say ‘yes’, too,” she said. “I feel it deep in my bones, that this is right-- you know?” Laughing with exhilaration, she could feel tears prickling her eyes. She was never supposed to live long enough to be a mother-- but even in that joy there was the deepest pain in knowing what was being lost. But her friend trusted her, her out of anyone, her and her amazing, brilliant Michelle, to take that little life into their hands. She was touched right at her heart. “I think we need to tell Jen that we want to be moms to her baby with her.”

USA, February 2027

Life, Michelle had come to realise long ago, never really did run out of curve-balls to throw her way. Life could be turned on its head at any time, and she’d just have to learn to roll with it. No, it wasn’t ‘trapped at the end of the world, everyone else is dead’ level, but bringing home your first child-- and one born in deeply emotional circumstances-- was certainly… a lot.

Ready or not, she and Quinn were bringing home baby Isla. Their perfect little girl; eight pounds, and with a fine dark smattering of hair. She was strong and healthy, putting to rest persistent fears for the expectant mothers, of which Isla had more than most.

Eager grandparents on both sides had already been warned that the newly formed family would be taking at least a couple of weeks to settle-- any visits would solely be by invitation, specifically if help was needed. No one, not even an eager Craig, was fool enough to come barging in when Michelle had put her foot down. She had to be staunch in her resolve; there was a lot that they were struggling to come to terms with-- Quinn especially. If her wife needed time and space to get her head around all this, Michelle would make it happen.

The door creaked open, and they were home in their spacious Northbridge apartment.

“Home, sweet, home, Isla!” Quinn announced, but the tiny child in the carrier didn’t even stir. “I guess we’ll have to show you around later; even if you were awake there’s so much that you won’t be able to take in yet, little one.”

Michelle gave a shiver. “Oh my god-- goosebumps! I can’t believe she’s really here in our apartment. She’s home!”

She’d half expected some wrench to be thrown into their plans at the last minute-- some long-lost relative of the birth-mother show up and demand custody of the baby, or some adoption official swoop in and insist the baby would be better off in care. Or even a yeti take the baby as her own. None of the scenarios were likely, but with so much on the line, catastrophising was all too easy.

Even with everything going exactly to plan, the turmoil was immense. Isla’s birth mother, Jen, always to be acknowledged as one of three mothers as important of either of the remaining two, was dead. The strain of labour proved more than her frail body could handle, and Rotterdam’s took her after a lifetime of courageous fighting. A chance meeting at a Kelly Foundation event several years prior had resulted in a firm friendship between Quinn and the younger woman with whom she shared so much… and in time to come, the answer to Jen’s prayers when she’d found herself pregnant. Then had come the rollercoaster; fears that the unborn infant might have inherited Rotterdam’s and the hard discussions about what they’d do if she had, the doubts and the fears, the nights Michelle and Quinn spent wide awake wondering if they were unconsciously taking advantage of a dying young woman. But through it all, Jen had remained adamant; her baby girl would be her gift left to the world, and the trusted friend who’d supported her would, in turn, support her daughter. Their daughter.

The baby began to fidget in her sleep, and Michelle jumped to make a bottle of formula-- or, she attempted to, but Quinn, catching on to her wife’s nerves, caught her hands and twisted her round into an embrace.

“First bottle in her new home? I think that might be a job for two mommies rather than one.”

“All right, fine.” Michelle exhaled slowly, then threw herself into the hug. And breathe. “Between you and me,” she said, rather too shakily to convince a soul, “how hard can this parenting crap really be?”

____________________________

USA, 2039

The scream reverberated all around her. It was everywhere, and it was everything. Years of medical training, of dealing with uncooperative patients, had prepared Michelle for this moment.

Isla kicked out on the floor, hitting a shelf, and sending a cascade of boxes and packets tumbling down. And still she screamed, unintelligible.

Crouched down with her daughter, Michelle tried to get hold of Isla’s hands, met only with resistance. She tried to ignore the gaze of onlookers-- probably a fifty-fifty mix of scornful and sympathetic. Had she not been so desperate to put on a show of calm for her daughter, a brutal tongue lashing would have been in order. Sometimes holding back barbs was one of the hardest parts of parenting.

“NO-O-OO!” Isla hollered.

“Isla, I need you to use your words for me,” Michelle said loudly, as clear as she could manage over the continued noise. “Darling, I can’t understand when you’re screaming.”

The toddler continued to struggle.

“Look at me-- look at me! Look at Mommy, Isla….” She managed to get eye contact for a moment-- progress. “Sweetheart, can you take a big breath in?” She demonstrated, exaggerated for effect.

To Michelle’s sheer relief, Isla stopped screeching for long enough to take in a big gulp of air.

“That’s my girl! Aaand… breathe out.”

Isla did, but her tiny face immediately crumpled all over again.

“One more time for Mommy! Big breath in….”

As Isla calmed herself, that wildness in her eyes slowly flickered out, the more familiar sweet, happy toddler resurfacing from beneath it. Her hair was unkempt and falling out of her sparkling hair-clips, her cheeks were red and streaked with tears, but she was Michelle’s beloved baby peeking out from the hysteria.

“Well done, Isla! That’s it… that’s it….”

Isla’s sobs subsiding, she looked up into her mother’s face with a loud hiccough. “I want-- that-- hic-- one…. All a people getting toys. Why not that one, Mommy?”

“There’s a toy you want to show me?”

“Put a in a twoy for home.”

Michelle carefully remained calm, knowing just how easy it would be for the disgruntled toddler to tip back over the edge. But she sure as hell wasn’t putting any big sparkly toys in the trolley for home, no matter how bad of a migraine she might be risking. “Sweetheart, it’s very close to Christmas, do you know that? That’s why so many people are here buying toys.”

“We buy toys!”

“When we’re doing, our Christmas shopping, it’s even more fun to find special things for other people who we love.”

Isla took a sharp inhale, clearly gearing up for another lung-busting shriek.

Oh, no you don’t….

“Isla, why don’t you show me the really cool thing you found, and then we can see if you can find something extra special to wrap up and hide for Mama? What do you think Mama would like?”

“Pesent for Mama?” Isla queried, visibly rolling the concept over in her mind, weighing up whether it was an interesting enough prospect to ditch her tantrum to pursue. “For unna a twee?”

“That’s right.” Michelle replied, far more brightly than should have been possible for someone a hair’s breadth away from bursting into tears herself.

Fucking hell, child, don’t you make me have a breakdown in the middle of a goddamn Walmart. I am this close….

And then, as if by miracle, the storm passed and Isla stood up, bounced on the spot and smiled.

What. The fuck. Did I just perform an exorcism right now? Sure, no one witnesses that bit, just the screaming meltdown.

But rather than voicing her bemusement, Michelle held out her hand, immediately taken by her little Isla, now grinning from ear to ear even as tear streaks still lined her face.

Isla looked up at her, all puffy eyes and smiles. “Mommy we find dowfins for Mama!”

“That’s a really good idea, Isla, we’ll see what we can find with dolphins-- Mama would really like that.”

So, it wasn’t exactly going to be a quick and easy shopping trip. If it meant the tantrums could be kept at bay, Michelle would take it but honestly… it would be the dolphin-treasure-hunting detours that she knew she’d hang onto forever. But she’d be damned if she wouldn’t remember that exorcising trick as well.

_________________________

USA, 2031

“Well,” Quinn said with an exhale as she sat down beside her mother, “it’s not come back, baby’s fine, and the doctor is pretty convinced I’m not sick at all.”

“Oh, Quinnie, thank goodness!” Fiona Kelly took her daughter in her arms and held her. “I knew, but… god, the places your mind goes to….”

Quinn knew those places all too well. She’d been ‘cured’ before, only to have her symptoms return. How could she possibly reassure her mother that it was different now, that what happened on La Huerta had permanently taken any trace of the condition from her body, when she herself felt utter dread every time she developed the smallest sniffle? She should have known morning sickness would be a nightmare for her.

“I’m just… ‘burnt at both ends’ is what the doctor called it. I told her everything I had on my plate and she looked at me like I was mad! I known Michelle tells me I take on too much, but I just tend to, you know, laugh it off. As if she can talk!”

“It’s hardly surprising, sweetpea. I remember the first time-- when we thought that experimental treatment had worked-- you spent every day trying to cram as much in as you possibly could in case the chance to do those things would never come again.”

Isla came skipping into the room, draped in a very pink, very sparkly number, something put together enthusiastically from her mountain of dress-ups. “Grandma, do you like my dress?”

Fiona beamed at the little girl. “It’s very pretty, Isla. Can you give us a twirl?”

As if that even needed asking. Isla turned in a flourishing pirouette, laughing. That tinkling laugh warmed Quinn’s heart and her soul. It was confronting to see just what innocence she’d have had when she herself was that age… before everything changed. It made it all the more precious. Yes, she’d taken on a lot, but nothing would come before making sure her little daughter had the easy, carefree childhood she hadn’t had. The kind she’d seen on television. In the kids playing in the streets on their bicycles-- with friends.

“I guess I never saw the things I have on my plate as ‘work’; it’s things I love. And I suppose that was enough until I went and put a pregnancy into the equation.”

Isla leaned up against her mother’s knees and looked up at Fiona. “Do you know the little, little baby in Mama’s tummy? It’s my brother or my sister.”

“I know!” Fiona gushed. “It’s very exciting. The baby in Mama’s tummy is going to be my grandbaby, so then I’ll have two! Isn’t that lucky!”

“I want it to be called ‘Pie’,” Isla said, deadly serious. “Pie is good. Spessolly the one we had when Bà came to our house for dinner.”

“I guess… ‘Pie Nguyen-Kelly’ has a unique kind of ring to it. We’ll have to talk to Mommy about that,” Quinn said diplomatically, trying not to laugh at the thought of the look on Michelle’s face should such a name be proposed. “But we have lots of time still. We’re probably going to think of lots of really nice names before we all decide together.”

Now, Isla was all but climbing into Quinn’s lap, nuzzling up like a puppy wanting pats. “I think the baby should be called ‘Pie’ or ‘Glitter’… or ‘Cuddles’.”

Quinn squeezed her and kissed her hair. The giggles were exactly what she needed after the doctor’s visit… and being given the realisation that something had to give. It would not be Isla. Already, Quinn had found herself being uncharacteristically sharp with the headstrong little girl, and it left her feeling sick with guilt even after apologies were said.

Fiona met her daughter’s eye, knowing. “You’ve poured so much into the foundation; no one would think ill of you taking a step back to have some more ‘mom time’. Besides… I think we both know your dad would absolutely throw himself into keeping things ticking over.”

“Yeah… I do know that,” Quinn said, and she found herself sniffing back tears.

“Mama, are you sad? Do you need to be kissed better?” Isla contorted herself so that she was fully bent over, twisted to look up into her mother’s face.

Baby, you are an actual angel.

“Don’t you worry-- Mama’s just fine,” Quinn reassured. “I’ve just realised that I have all the time in the world to do all the things I want to do. I’m going to have more fun and be less worried--”

“--and put your feet up and relax once in a while,” Fiona added for her. “For your own good, and Michelle’s, and Isla’s… and baby Cuddles.”

Isla’s eyes grew wide. “You think we should call it ‘Cuddles’?”

Fiona chuckled. “It’s got my vote so far. We’re a cuddly family!” She squeezed Quinn’s knee. “The foundation, ‘For Goodness’ Cake’, this little lady, and a pregnancy? Darling, you’re so very special, but you’re not a superhero.”

If only she knew…. But this was now, and Quinn had to admit the truth. Time to come up for air… and trust that she wasn’t fighting a ticking clock.

“I think Mama’s a superhero!” Isla loudly announced.

And that, Quinn knew, was the reason why.

__________________________

USA, February 2027

It was so easy. Easier than either of them had braced themselves for. Isla took her carefully measured amount of formula, burped on cue, and was now sleeping soundly in her bassinet while her mothers looked on, entranced.

Michelle rested her head on Quinn’s shoulder. “I didn’t know it was possible to feel so much at once. I’m so full of love right now, but the sadness is just… just stifling.” She sniffed. “I’m just so damn grateful Jen got to hold her. What a piss-poor consolation! But she almost didn’t even have that. It’s just fucking bullshit.”

Quinn looked at the tiny child in the crib, a little life already touched by Rotterdam’s, watching the rise and fall of her chest. They already knew that Isla didn’t have the condition, for Jen had insisted on screening in utero before deciding to go ahead with the pregnancy. Quinn understood completely, even as questions of ‘what if’s were stirred up in her. Isla couldn’t be shielded from what she’d lost though, and it sent an ache down to Quinn’s heart. How was it fair that the Island’s Heart had let her live, while others suffered and died of the same condition? This little angel might be sleeping soundly beside her real mother right now….

“I feel ashamed for being happy to have her, because I can’t separate it from how we have her,” Quinn said. “It really is just… love. Bittersweet and absolutely enormous. It reminds me-- this is going to sound stupid--” she added apologetically, but Michelle gestured for her to go on. “It reminds me of when the Island Heart was influencing me-- not when I was fully possessed-- but when there was something so strong, I could feel it filling me up from top to toe, and every inch of me could feel it. This love is like that. And that,” she chuckled softly, “kinda reminds me of our wedding day, only that was so much easier, no conflict, just pure joy.”

Michelle nodded, thoughtful. The poor child wouldn’t be looked on as something bittersweet forever, would she? Jen had no regrets, had been so proud of the little bundle of baby that had been placed in her arms, she reminded herself, so maybe everyone else would be able to look at things in a similar way. In time.

“Chellie…?” Quinn breathed. “How the hell do I ever tell her that something from beyond this world saved me, but couldn’t save her real mom?” The ‘r’ word slipped out before she could help it and she felt Michelle wince beside her. “God, sorry! I know I shouldn’t say that. We’re her moms too… I’m just so scared. It’s the most selfish thing; worrying that she’ll wish she didn’t have us at all, and she had Jen instead. I had the whole pregnancy to work through those stupid worries, but it turns out they’re not going anywhere.”

Michelle gave her wife a sympathetic look. She got it. She might not have the guilt Quinn felt over being cured, but she sure knew a thing or two about dreading that she’d be a let down to the daughter she already loved as her own.

“I think… worrying that she’ll resent us comes with the territory.” She reached into the crib and gently stroked the baby’s fine hair. “It absolutely breaks my heart that she’ll never meet her other mom, who loved her so much. I can’t see how that won’t be tough on her.”

____________________________

USA, 2034

Seven-year-old Isla sat at the kitchen bar, playing despondently with the last remnants of her breakfast. She knew her Mama, Quinn, had been keeping a close eye on her, noticing that she hadn’t quite been herself. Isla didn’t want her mom to worry. So, she braved the question. A big one. Perhaps the scariest of them all.

“Mama?” Isla asked quietly, her sparkling eyes slightly glazed over. “I- I’ve been thinking. And… wondering a bit.”

“Yeah? You do seem like you’ve been lost in thought these past couple of days. Has something been troubling you?”

Quinn nudged very gently, balancing out the need to show genuine interest in what was on her daughter’s mind, with the need to make sure no pressure was being exerted. She seemed to have a knack for it; Isla had always been very forthcoming-- sharing everything from troubles with her math homework, to social drama from the schoolyard, to those big worries about whether Mama might get sick with Rotterdam’s again and die just like Tummy Mom Jen did.

Isla looked down into her bowl as she spoke. “You and Mom… do you… do you think you would love me more if I was your own actual kid? Like… like Conor is.”

“Isla…,” Quinn said gently, and she came around the counter to put an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Come sit down with me on the couch.”

They sat down together, little Isla hunched over herself, perched at the edge of the seat, while Quinn kept an arm around her, never letting the reassuring touch slip.

“You’re my daughter, sweetheart. You’re Mom’s daughter. Baby, you are our actual kid.”

“But-- but I’m not!”

“Y-you know love… it doesn’t really care about things like how you’re related. I love you for all the time we’ve spent together-- all the times you see I’m sad and you grab me a tissue and snuggle me until I’m smiling again. I’m really, really lucky you know. I have you, and I have Mr Con. I was just as excited to meet you as I was to meet him-- and just as nervous! I wanted to get everything right, and make you feel happy, and make you feel just how much I loved you. And from the moment you were born… I just love you so much it feels my heart isn’t even big enough to hold it all.”

Isla snuggled in, sniffling. “I’m sorry….”

“Darling, it’s okay! It’s natural to worry about things like that. You probably don’t know this, but Mom used to be worried that Conor wouldn’t love her as much as he loves me, because they weren’t related either.”

“What? But Conor loves Mom! He thinks Mom’s the best thing ever! I think he wants to be just like her when he grows up.”

“Exactly. These worries we have… they’re normal to have, but it doesn’t mean what we’re worried about is true at all.”

“So… so I didn’t hurt your feelings? I know you love me, I just wondered… if it was different, you know?”

“Of course not, angel.” Quinn kissed the top of Isla’s head with a loud ‘mwah!’. “It’s my job to put those little fears to rest-- you don’t deserve to have those worries hurting you, okay? You’re my special girl. The specialest.”

“That’s not even a word, Mama!”

Quinn squeezed her tightly, tight enough that there could never be any doubt of the love there. “Doesn’t matter, it’s still what you are!” She gave Isla another big kiss, and stroked her rosy cheek. “Tummy Mom Jen wold have said so too. She loved you so much, babe. Even when she was very sick, and very scared, knowing she was bringing you into the world made her feel brave.”

Isla looked up at her mom, big eyes watery. “It’s not fair that she died. I wish I could meet her. And give her her Mother’s Day card in person instead of putting it in the fire to go to heaven. We would be a really nice family.”

“We really would be. She’d be as proud of you as me and Mom are-- actually, I’m sure she is, wherever she’s looking down from.”

Sniffing, Isla gave a slow nod of the head. Quinn gently rubbed her arm, comforting her.

“Hey-- I wanted to bake some special cupcakes for Mom to celebrate this new job. Do you think you could help me out with the decorating? You do always manage to get them just the right amount of sparkly.”

The edge of Isla’s mouth twitched, a smile threatening to burst forth. That was a cheering-up activity if ever she heard of one. “W-we… um, we could decorate them like brains and stethoscopes, ‘cause Mom’s a brain doctor.”

“Not glittery-sparkly decorations? Are you trying something new, Isla?”

“I can make brain and doctor cupcakes glittery-sparkly. So they’re extra special for Mom. Do you think she’d like that?”

“Sweetie, she’d love that.”

Little Conor’s ears must have been burning, for he came toddling over from the rug on across the room where he’d been playing with building blocks, eyes wide.

“We a making steffyscup cakes?”

“We sure are, kiddo!” Quinn said, standing up and scooping her small son into her arms. At only three, Conor could only do so much to help in the kitchen, but there was no way she’d have him miss out on cupcake fun. Cupcake fun was her specialty. “I’m gonna need you each to pick out a really yummy flavour, something you think Mom will like.”

“I fink mud.”

“That’s gross! Mama! Mom does not like mud.”

“Okay, how about chocolate for Con?” Quinn could have burst out laughing at the look on Conor’s face; he clearly hadn’t considered that chocolate might have been rather yummier, but he was very suggestible to the idea. “And what do you think, La-la? It can be anything you like, even if it means we need a quick run to the shops.”

Still needy, Isla clasped Quinn’s hand and buried her face against her. “I want them sprinkles and glitter and strawberry,” she mumbled. “Really pretty for Mommy so she knows we love her.”

While Conor ran to grab his shoes, eager as he was to get some sweet treats happening, Isla hung back, still hugging Quinn’s waist.

Quinn crouched down to talk to her little girl and spoke to her softly.

“Isla? I’ve been thinking, sweetheart. It’s been a little while since we took you to Tummy Mom Jen’s grave… do you think you might like to go sometime to talk to her?”

“I would really, really, really like that, Mama,” Isla replied, a little muffled by her thumb and finger in her mouth-- a nervous habit. “Can we… can we go with Mommy, too? I want all my moms at the same time.”

Quinn cradled Isla’s head and kissed her. “Of course, baby. And you’ll always have us.”

_____________________________

San Trobida, 2036

Isla absolutely loved it there. ‘The Star of San Trobida’. It wasn’t the biggest holiday resort she’d ever stayed at, nor the fanciest, but it was the only one she knew that had forests up the walls and roofs outside and a beach and two pools and-- this was probably the best bit-- some of her La Huerta family around the place. She’d had to write about the family holiday to San Trobida for school, which had been pretty fun. Aleister was excited to be interviewed by her about the hotel and all its innovations in sustainability, and how it was helping put the small country on the international tourism map after years of civil war. Isla had interviewed Estela was well. She hadn’t gushed on nearly so much, but Isla got the impression she too was very, very proud of what Catalyst International had achieved.

So, when the nine-year-old woke up on the morning of her birthday-- and the last before they returned to their usual accommodation at the Hall’s place in Valle Brava-- she realised she wasn’t quite done with documenting her adventures. Did New Year’s resolutions only count at the beginning of the calendar year, or did birthdays count as a new year? Because she had a plan to start something fun.

“If I kept writing about our holiday-- not just the five-hundred words Mrs Mason wanted-- could I, like, print it off to keep? And then I could keep writing about all the exciting things we do all year!”

“That’s a really nice idea, Isla,” Quinn said brightly from the ensuite, where she was brushing her hair.

Michelle took a little longer to perk up of a morning, certainly before anything caffeinated had been administered, but she gave her daughter a warm-- if tired-- smile. “You really enjoyed that little piece of homework didn’t you?”

“It didn’t even feel like homework, which was weird,” Isla said. “Writing is kinda fun when you can write about stuff you care about. I wanted to do a travel journal for ages, but most of our holidays are to places that are too secret.”

“I know, baby,” Quinn said, sticking her head around the door frame. “But if you want to write about La Huerta, you can always keep a journal in our house over there? We can keep important things secret and still have fun, yeah?”

That gave Isla another idea. “If I write a load of stuff about going to San Trobida, I could take a few copies to La Huerta to give to my friends, like Talauet, and Zhaali, and Ashala. They can’t go and visit different places like this on their own!”

She jabbered excitedly, legs swinging off the side of the plush hotel bed, confident that her mothers were hanging on her every word. “And I know they can read English pretty well, but it would be nicer I think if Diego could help me out with translating into Vaanti-- and I could put photos with it and everything! Is it okay if I use the family tablet to write it all and to take pictures? I swear I won’t like… drop it in the sea or something.”  

Quinn felt her heart swell at the passion in her daughter’s voice. “Just make sure it’s got the heavy duty case on. We all know it’ll end up in Conor’s hands at some point--”

“--and he’ll definitely drop it?” Isla finished, clearly knowing her younger brother’s points of weakness.

“He will definitely drop it,” Michelle attested, not bothering to hide a shudder. She loved her boy to absolute pieces, but that didn’t mean his tendency to crash through life wasn’t exhausting at times. She fished the tablet-- already sporting a few dings-- from the bedside drawer. “While we’re here, why don’t you start with taking some pictures of the hotel?”

Isla jauntily crawled up the bed on all fours, then knelt up to put her arms around Michelle. “D’you wanna be in the pictures?”

“Not until I’ve fixed my hair, thank you,” she replied, wicked-fast, making her daughter giggle.

“Okay! I think you’re always beautiful, but you can say when you think you’re beautiful enough for pictures.”

Quinn caught Michelle’s eye, her gaze brimming with adoration. It still made Michelle’s stomach flip, make her feel her strongest self. Actually-- why not capture these moments, messy and real as they were? This was her little girl’s ninth birthday, and these moments would never be had again.

“Screw it!” she said, and again, her giggly girl laughed, light and free. “If my bed hair’s on this holiday with us, it gets to be in the photos. We’d better grab Conor, though-- his PB&J face needs to be captured as well!”

Perfect was them like this, open and honest… a family.

___________________________

USA, February 2027

“Have you looked at your phone in a while?” Michelle called from the lounge. “Mine’s just about blowing up with messages. Zahra says, ‘congrats, happy for us, but not to take that as any sign that she wants to babysit ‘it’’. Aaaand separate text from Craig asking to babysit if we ever need it. Yeah, don’t think that’s happening.”

Quinn burst out laughing. It was wonderfully grounding to hear from their friends. This whole rollercoaster of hospitals, adoption, loss, and bringing home the baby left her feeling as though she was existing in a whole different world to everyone around her. While only Michelle was in the thick of it with her, the outpouring from family no matter how far away left her knowing that they weren’t going through it all alone. She joined Michelle and sat down beside her on the sofa.

“Poor Craig,” she chuckled. “I think he might just have to wait until bubba’s old enough to not be a Zahra repellent. I’m pretty sure she’ll want to hold a baby when hell freezes over.”

“Nice long text from Taylor, as if we’d expect anything else….”

Quinn took the phone and read, soon finding her face aching with a smile.

‘Don’t worry, not gonna try and get a conversation out of you-- just dropping a line to let you all (!) know that we’re thinking of you and we love you. Liv has been asking about baby Isla all day! Anyway, we’ve sent you an Uber Eats gift card for the likely event that you’re too exhausted to even think about cooking. Check your emails! I think Stel sent it to Michelle’s but not sure. Love you guys SO MUCH, over the moon for you and can’t wait to meet your gorgeous girl. Just know that we can be right there if you need anything at all, okay? Also, don’t freak out about replying to this long message-- just enjoy a good meal and we’ll hear from you when we hear from you. Massive hugs and congratulations! T & E & L xx’

“Aw, that’s really sweet!” she said. “Not gonna lie, I’m this close to crying from relief that we don’t have to cook….”

“Oh my god, hard same!” Michelle exclaimed. “You would think med school would prepare you for tired, but nooooo, apparently there are depths of exhaustion I hadn’t plumbed yet. Different emotions I guess.” She selected another message. “Raj is crazy excited to get back into experimenting with baby purees.”

Then she read aloud the message from Sean and her eyes grew misty.

‘Hey guys, had to send you my massive congratulations. Isla is gorgeous, and no matter how hard things feel right now, she’s so damn lucky to be growing up with you two as moms. After all the talking about it for so long, it’s crazy to think she’s really coming home with you! I know it’s hard to reach out when you’re exhausted, but don’t you ever forget that I’m here for anything you need-- we all are. You are both absolutely amazing.’

Michelle wiped her face. “Wow. That one really hit me. I guess… after everything we went through, it means a lot.” She looked up to Quinn’s smiling eyes. “I’m gonna have to save all these. Pretty sure we’re gonna need to remember this feeling when things get tough.”

“Yes,” Quinn said, and she leaned in and softly kissed her wife’s lips. “And we’re gonna need to remember that we’re not doing this alone. Isla may not know it yet, but she’s got a big family who love her to pieces.”

________________________

USA, 2038

Isla cried and cried and cried. Her slight body shook even as she buried it in Michelle’s arms… whatever comfort she gleaned didn’t take away the hurt like a knife to her chest.

White hot anger surged through Michelle’s body, engulfing her from head to toe. She knew this kind of ugliness all too well-- how utterly naiive to even dare hope that Isla might get through her childhood without being made a victim. What could she even do to help but be there for her?

Quinn came back to them on the couch, having seen that Conor was happy playing away in a sea of Legos on his bedroom floor. It was just as well, for Isla needed support. Of course, Quinn knew that kids could be cruel, but having been so socially deprived had made it a somewhat distant concept. Here and now, looking upon her sweet girl, all dressed up for a party after saving up for a new outfit specially, and so proud of the jewellery she’d spent hours hand-crafting as a gift for her best friend, only to be told-- texted of all things-- that she wasn’t invited after all, her spot taken by the popular new girl in their year… it was shocking, and it damn near broke Quinn’s heart.

“That’s it, my darling,” she cooed, rubbing a hand gently on Isla’s shaking arm. “You just cry it all out, okay? We’ve got you.”

She glanced up and met her wife’s eye. Michelle looked ready to punch someone. It wasn’t often Quinn felt that kind of anger, but with her daughter sobbing in her arms… she got it. What anger wouldn’t do, though, was help Isla.

Michelle, clearly taking great efforts to not let her fury affect Isla, rubbed her arm. “Hey… we know we can’t make up for what you’re missing out on, and that sucks. What we can do, babe, is give you a special night in; you choose the movies, you choose the snacks, and manicures are on me.”

Isla sniffed, her face crumpled. “But I don’t have any friends. H-how sad do I have to be to have a party on my own?”

Quinn kissed her temple. “You’ve got us. And… hey!-- how about we see if Liv’s free? Friends still count as friends even if you’re hanging out down a video call.”

It didn’t seem likely to Isla that anyone would want to go out their way to keep her company when she felt like absolute crap, but she nodded, humouring her moms' well-intentioned desire to make her feel better. But then, not a half hour later, she was talking to her special friend all the way in San Trobida.

“You don’t have to hang out with me if you don’t want to,” Isla said softly, apologetic, unaware that her shattered confidence and self-worth on full display brought her listening mothers close to tears. “It’s okay….”

On the tablet screen, Liv simply looked baffled. This wasn’t the self-important rather pushy Isla that she knew. “What? As if! We haven’t talked in ages. And, well, if you’ve had a shit time of it, I’m not letting you go until you feel at least a little better. You’ve bullied me into feeling happy enough times not for me to return the favour, you know.”

Isla’s lip quivered. “Thanks.”

“Do, uh,” Liv ventured, a little unsure, “do you want to talk about it?”

Isla hugged herself. “Not really, I’ll only start crying again and my face is puffy enough already.”

“Bet your Mom’s got something for that.”

“Yeah. Best part of being a sad sack is that Mom’ll break out the fanciest face cream to make me feel better. I know I don’t even need to use lotions or anything yet, but it makes me feel confident like Mom.” Even talking about it did something to perk Isla up. Her moms were going to spoil her rotten until she was feeling herself again; games and cupcakes and pampering would be the remedies of choice. “Well… basically,” she said, feeling braver, “what happened was Paisley ditched me for Alison again. Only this time it’s for her actual birthday party… that she invited me to months ago. So… so I pretty much don’t have any real friends.” Isla’s lip wobbled dangerously, and the lump in her throat was choking. She gave in, and the tears came once more. “I-it’s not fair! I never did-did anything to her except be her friend.”

“Oh, La, that really sucks. I’m so sorry. I wish I could just give you the biggest hug right now!”

Isla whimpered. “I wish you could too.” She trembled as she sat there. “Alison says it’s because I’m a-- because I’m bossy.” She couldn’t bring herself to repeat exactly what Alison had called her.

“But you’re good bossy,” Liv argued. “Whenever I hurt myself, you never leave me the hell alone until I get patched up. You barge in and take over whatever the twins are doing because you’re older and you want to make sure they know how to do things properly so they stay safe. And when everyone was first learning Erin’s new pronouns you gave the filthiest looks when anyone got it wrong. Fair sure it caught on so quick partly because everyone cared so much, and partly because no one wanted to incur your wrath. E felt so good to know you had her back-- you know you’ve always been one of her idols, right?”

Isla’s cheeks had gone quite pink. She scoffed, looking at her hands. “It doesn’t seem like anyone outside my La Huerta friends see it that way….”

“Then they’re dumbasses, and they’re missing out.”

“Yeah, but I’m missing out too. You try and survive middle school with no friends-- it’s bullshit!”

Even through the screen, the empathy in Liv’s face shone through. “I know. It really is horrible, and you don’t deserve any of it. I’ve been there… a lot. If you ever need to vent, you can throw me a message any time. Or even just to talk about any old crap. Don’t even worry about bothering me, okay? I always like to hear from you.”

“...Yeah?” Isla asked, uncharacteristically meek. Liv was a good deal older than her-- nearly fifteen and a real teenager-- and didn’t really need to waste her time with what must seem to her like a little kid. But Liv never let her feel like just a little kid, and right now, it was exactly what she needed.

“Yeah! I’m actually not doing too bad for friends here now, but I don’t have anyone who I’m really close to other than Reggie. I’ve always been a little on the outside. And yeah, it’s kinda shit, but it also makes the people who matter really stand out. You’ve always been one of them.”

Isla smiled and smiled, blushing from her cheeks to her ears to the back of her neck. “You’ll always be my friend too, Livi.” She took a shuddering exhale, a breath she didn’t realise she was holding, and knew she was fine. Somehow, the hurt in her heart was dulled. “Hey, do you wanna watch a movie with me? Do you like Labyrinth? It’s one of Mama’s favourites from when she was little and needed cheering up… and David Bowie in those tights cracks me up.”

“Ohmygod, yeeessss!” Liv cried. “As long as you don’t mind Mama Tay showing up in the background and singing along like the total dork she is. Oh! Oh, oh! We can get Reggie and the twins in on this too! Reggie’s a total nerdface… he’ll spend the whole time just studying the mechanics of the puppets and crapping on about the pain-staking detail. Anyway-- I can call them if you like?”

Actually… that sounded rather wonderful. Paisley could keep her shitty stuck-up party; Isla had better things to do and better friends to give her time. And by the sound of her mom’s car rolling up back in the driveway after a quick supply run, a bitchin’ pedicure was soon to be had.

__________________________

USA, February 2027

A cry from the crib wrenched Quinn and Michelle from a too-brief kiss and embrace.

Quinn smiled against her wife’s lips. “I’ll take diaper duty if you get a bottle prepared?”

“Sounds like a deal.” Michelle kissed her once more, a quick peck before Isla’s cry grew louder, sharper. “Take turns?”

Quinn laughed softly. “That’s a plan!”

She went to little Isla and took her in her arms, hushing her and gently rocking her. Those whimpers were like a pull to her very heart, not unlike the feeling she had when tethered to the Island Heart. How Isla came to be in her care was irrelevant to it; she felt the love of a mother, and it was beautiful and all-encompassing.

As Quinn brought Isla out to the changing table and undid her diaper, she called out to Michelle; “We’ve got a lot of pee in here, but no poops! Did you catch the time for your records?”

“Thanks, babe!” Came the reply. “Yep, already got that sleep logged!”

One day in and Michelle was already big on tracking and managing ‘wake windows’, getting the very beginnings of a routine in place. Quinn went along with it, though she would have been perfectly happy keeping things a little more relaxed; if structure helped Michelle cope with the chaos that came with parenting a new baby, she’d take her lead.

She brought a clean and happy Isla through to Michelle and they all snuggled up together on the couch. Quinn passed the baby on and felt her heart swell as she watched Michelle feed her.

Michelle looked up and met Quinn’s warm smile. “This is terrifying. But… we’ve got this.” She gave a little laugh. “I’ll have to tell you when my year out’s done whether babies are better or worse for the stress levels than a medicine residency.”

Quinn chuckled appreciatively and leaned in close to kiss Michelle, feeling their sweet daughter safely nestled between them.

Yeah. We’ve got this. Little baby girl, you’d better brace yourself, because there’s gonna be a lot of love coming your way.

_________________________

Dark rings circled Jen’s eyes, even more noticeable now as her face hollowed. That deep tiredness, though, couldn’t hide the bright spark in her eyes when Quinn and Michelle sat down at her bedside with the news that they’d picked out a name for her approval.

“Right now,” Quinn said, nervous, for already she’d found herself attached to the name, “we’re pretty sure we want to go with ‘Isla Quy’. If you like it.”

“That’s pretty. I’m assuming ‘Quy’ is Vietnamese?”

Michelle nodded. “It means ‘precious’. My family has a tradition of using a Vietnamese name as a middle; I really wanted to carry that on. So, Isla Quy Nguyen-Kelly.”

Jen beamed. “I really, really like that. Our baby Isla.” She groaned, leaning into the pillow. “That helps. Her having a name. I’m glad you freaking finally decided on something; I was beginning to think I’d die with a nameless baby.”

“Not on our watch,” Michelle said. “You’re her mom; a name to call her is the least we can give you.”

For a little while, Jen was quiet, exhausted from even the exertion of a small happy thrill. It was bullshit.

“You wouldn’t believe the looks I get,” she said darkly, her voice a croak. “People don’t know what to say to a dying girl. Throw in a baby bump? I’m not sure what’s worse, the condescending pity or the scathing judgement.”

“They just don’t have a clue,” Quinn said. She’d seen those looks; they made her stomach clench. What people couldn’t understand, they’d sneer at; safe and detached, and condescending.

“Nah, they don’t. I mean, look at me. Deathbed at twenty. You’d think the world might have owed me something good, something that might make my shit-show of a life worthwhile? That’s what Isla is. Can’t I have that? My little girl living, laughing, loved and happy, long after I’m worm-food in the ground.”

“And she will be, you know. So, so loved.”

“You don’t expect kids to happen, not with Rotterdam’s. If it can’t be my miracle, I’m glad she’ll be yours. In a small way, it feels like I’m winning. Got to take those small victories.”

She rested a hand tenderly on her belly. It was likely she’d never know her child, but knowing the baby’s name made the little one so much more solid, real to her. The movements in her body were not some trick of an illness; they were Isla Quy Nguyen-Kelly.

As victories went, Isla wasn’t even a small one; she was everything.

#quinchelle #endless summer #michelle x quinn #quinn kelly #michelle nguyen #quinn x michelle #catalyst kiddos #playchoices

[marmolady]

I was tagged by @mauvecatfic, thanks!! It's been a long time since I've been around, so it's especially appreciated.

Rules: Write the latest line from your WIP (or post where you last left off in your art), and tag as many people as there are words in the line. Make a new post, don't reblog!

I'm not going to tag as many people as there are words, too many words. But I WILL tag @sceptilemasterr and @rhemenway888, my ES buddies.

“Of course I’ve got my ukulele, man… what do you take me for? I’m not gonna get caught out in a ukulele emergency without a ukulele!”

“You… anticipated a ukulele emergency?”

“It’s La Huerta. Stranger things have happened! Besides, it always comes in handy in the event of a fire-side singalong.”

Now that Aleister thought about it, his mission to serenade Grace could indeed constitute a ukulele emergency. Perhaps Raj had a fair point.

#wip #endless summer #aleister rourke #raj bhandarkar

[marmolady]

Reunion: 2022

Main Pairings: Estela x (F)MC, Michelle x Quinn, Graleister, Namasiao

Here it is! My main writing project right now. I'll be giving little windows into the annual Catalyst Reunions as they happen over the years. Some will be little snippets, some will be longer fics. Generally, I'd like to go in chronological order, but me being me, that might not happen. Do feel free to shout out a year between 2022 and 2097 if you want me to write one. So, without further ado, here is the first instalment-- enjoy!

Word Count: 3866

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, ​@mauvecatfic @rhemenway888

Thanks for reading! Comments and re-blogs make me EXTRA happy.

________________________

From their vantage point up on ‘their’ hill, Estela and Taylor caught sight of the plane coming in before anyone else did.

While Taylor laughed and waved beside her-- even knowing there was little chance she could be seen from the plane-- Estela was quiet, her stomach turning. It had been so long since the twelve of them had been all together; the pandemic had seen to that. Two years had passed since Diego, Grace, Aleister, Taylor and herself returned to La Huerta to stay, pretty much picking up where they left off, but always there had been the sense of something missing… or rather, seven someones. Having spent most of her young life alone and friendless save for her mother and uncle, Estela didn’t have a lot to compare with, but she had a sense that this bond the twelve of them had forged was something uncommonly deep. She supposed shared trauma could do that. It didn’t stop the nerves, though. Estela was no fool; she knew that emotions were bound to be stirred up big time. For better or for worse.

Taylor grasped her hand. “Come on-- let’s head down to the hangar.”

Quinn wasn’t sure what hit first as she stepped out the plane; the humidity or the all-too familiar scent of soil and jungle mixed with sea salt. But there was no mistaking what her senses screamed at her, as if responding to the whirring of an alarm; she was back on La Huerta. Beside her, she felt Michelle such in a breath.

“It’s surreal, isn’t it?” Quinn whispered, while others in the group disembarked.

She hadn’t intended on staying away for so long-- she didn’t think anyone had. But intentions didn’t mean much when a pandemic was thrown into the mix, and the priority had to be keeping the Vaanti safe. It didn’t look like almost three and a half years had passed since she stepped foot on the island. The hangar, the tangle of forest creeping towards the runway… it was all as she remembered. La Huerta might not have changed, but she had. All of them had.

“God,” Michelle was muttering, “just being here is making my hair stand on end….”

“Well,” Zahra said, “record’s a year and a half. Guess we’ll see how long it takes us to escape this time.”

“Zahra!”

In contrast to the all-too-easily-baited Michelle, Sean wouldn’t let his spirits be dampened. That they were all coming back there together, safe and happy and thriving-- it was them having won. For all the pain he’d endured on this island, what he’d got out of it meant so much more.

“Clear skies as we came in,” he chuckled. “I think we’re all right.”

Then, running up from the beach-- or waddling in the case of heavily pregnant Grace-- those who’d built a permanent life for themselves upon La Huerta joined the visitors, and the group erupted into cheers and hugs, and in some cases, tears.

There were great sighs of relief, for it was this very sense of unity they’d come so far to feel once more, the thing that brought them back to their strongest selves. Not another human being on Earth could understand that connection-- of surviving the end of everything side by side. As they laughed and hugged and cried, the very first annual Catalyst reunion had begun.

The group trudged up the beach to the same old part of the island that they’d first called home such a long time ago, and under the most unusual circumstances. The Celestial-- or rather, The Old Celestial-- was no longer standing; in its place was a far smaller resort, just four storeys tall and shrouded in the plant life that came off its green walls.

There was some amount of oohing and aahing, and Raj wondered aloud to Craig as to whether Aleister had indeed taken the memo about the need for waterslides.

“Y-you cannot be serious!” Aleister spluttered. “A modern marvel in environmentally-sound architecture is before you, but no, ‘does it have a slide?’--”

“There’s a waterslide, Raj,” said Estela. “So it’ll automatically get a better review from you than the last one.”

 A Vaanti woman dressed in an eclectic mix of traditional clothing and modern human accessories  came through the front doors with a nervous flourish.

“Finally you are all here!” she said. “We have been waiting since the beginning to share what we have worked so hard on with you, Catalysts.”

Taylor stepped forward. “For those of you who haven’t met her and her husband yet, this is Elyywa, who’s been helping us out so much with The Celestial.”

Elyywa looked to her side bashfully, her cheeks flushing a brighter green. “It is our home now and we are proud of it.”

“Elyywa is one of the handiest people I’ve ever met,” Taylor said, “she makes keeping the place running look easy, and I know it’s not.”

As they came through to the newly rebuilt atrium, Quinn gave a little gasp. The high walls were lined with beautifully carved bookshelves, and she suspected that every volume in Rourke’s prized collection had made the transfer. No longer were they hidden away, but shared; several armchairs were occupied by folks who’d wandered over from Elyys’tel for the sole purpose of a reading retreat and a cup of tea.

“This is the central room-- and the library,” Grace said proudly. “I know Aleister and I had such special memories in the old library… it was a comforting place when starting again felt so overwhelming.” She grinned. “It sounds crazy, but it felt like we were liberating all these books from Rourke’s keep. Now all this knowledge, all these stories… they belong to everyone here. We’ve even started translating some of the most sought out works into Vaanti-- which Diego has been amazing with!”

“It’s gorgeous!” Michelle gushed. “Pictures really didn’t do this place justice. I’m dying to see our rooms!”

Aleister flushed happily. “It was certainly a labour of love. Some of the lessons learned here have already helped us with the San Trobida project; but this isn’t just a trial run, it’s intended to be both a sanctuary and a place of learning.”

“I’m so glad we can finally see it for ourselves!” Quinn said, beaming. She wandered to the wall at the back of the room, painted with illustrations she and her friends had left there the night before they all left La Huerta so long ago. Memories shared, then remembered together. Of all the things that had been salvaged from the old Celestial, it was the one she treasured most. Her slender fingers traced over brushstrokes of one of her own contributions to the mural wall; an illustration of the thirteen of them relaxing by a shimmering lake. “It really is beautiful.” She turned to Elyywa, who was watching her and the others with undisguised curiosity. “Do you have a lot of people come and stay here?”

“Oh, yes!” Elyywa said, beaming. “We have a market every eighth day, Delphinus, which brings people from across Vaanu to trade their wares-- many regulars. There is great pride in taking back a part of our home that the Hydra had seen our people banished from. In the beginning we had much attention from the remaining devout, but that is less so.”

Zahra frowned. “How’s your security? We’re not gonna have any nutbags like Uqzhaal skulking around, looking for an easy mark to poison….”

Horror filled Elyywa’s thin face, but it was Varyyn who spoke, his tone utterly calm.

“It has been a time of unease,” he said,  “but the tension is passing. The fall of the Hydra and the safe conclusion of Raan’losti speak for themselves; what The Endless predicted-- whatever her motivations were-- have come to pass and brought about a future that brings us great hope. Should any individuals disturb this hard-won peace, they would be rising up against the united front of our people. Many in Elyys’tel see you Catalysts as part of our community even after you left our shores, and would see you protected as they would any Vaanti.”

“Basically,” Taylor said, “keep it respectful to the people who live here, and any issues go through Varyyn. Yeah, there’s probably a few dangerous extremists out there, people being people, but we’ve not had any problems even with some of the more intense followers of the religion. It didn’t take long for the initial excitement to all calm down; now we’re just part of the furniture again.”

It hadn’t even crossed Quinn’s mind that a threat might remain; after everything they’d all been through, this was their second home. In all honesty, it felt like no time had passed at all-- making the seemingly sudden replacement of Rourke’s old resort almost jarring. It was almost like she’d stumbled into an alternate universe; everything was hauntingly familiar and yet new.

When Grace showed her and Michelle to their suite, that same feeling came back to Quinn tenfold. Several pieces of furniture were exactly as she’d remembered them, and they looked over the same old shimmering sea, but the Vaanti influence in the design was proudly there too, and it made it quite clear that this was no hotel of Rourke’s.

Exhausted, she flopped on the bed and Michelle fell into her arms, making her giggle.

“Is it just me,” Michelle asked, looking up at the ceiling hung with glowing lights and vines, “or is this surreal as hell?”

Definitely not just you.

______________________

The sun dipped below the horizon, the end of a long and busy day. The poolside was ringing with voices as old family rekindled their bonds, sharing jokes that not a soul outside themselves would ever understand. Having been given a tour of the kitchen by Elyywa and husband Asti, Raj had refused to emerge without a full spread to lay out in celebration of the reunion. By the edge of the beach, a happily full Estela had taken refuge away from the main hubbub, and sipped a virgin variation of her usual signature drink as she sat cross-legged upon the sand, joined by Quinn and Michelle as they too opted for just a little quiet time.

 It wasn’t often she had the opportunity to really talk about the things that had been troubling her most-- not with friends with a human perspective. It was easier than she’d imagined it to be, the time apart from her friends doing nothing to change how comfortable she felt bearing herself to them. She was among family-- certainly in any way that mattered to her. And in the way they shared with her in return… that trust touched her deeply, every time.

“...it really means a lot that you worked with my insane schedule so we can come,” Michelle was saying. “I honestly would have been devastated. You’re good as sisters to me, and you don’t just miss your sisters’ wedding! Having something like that to look forward to might just get me through my exams.”

Quinn’s blue eyes twinkled and she gave Michelle’s shoulder a nudge. “And here I was thinking I was getting you through?”

“Babe, you’re a fucking ray of sunshine, but to get through med school I’m going to want all the motivation I can get.”

They laughed together, and Estela felt safe.

“I, uh, I’m really excited to show you my home,” she said, her cheeks reddening. Comfortable with her La Huerta sisters she might be, but she was still a little awkward. She scratched the back of her neck. “I hope your families don’t freak on you when you tell them the wedding’s in San Trobida….”

It was aimed more at Quinn who she knew had been struggling to manage the protectiveness of her mother and father as they adjusted to their daughter’s freedom from the impact of Rotterdam’s.

Quinn met Estela’s eyes, appreciating the understanding and offering a smile. “Oh, they will. Mom’ll cry and beg me not to go, then she’ll cry all over again and tell me to go for it and make the most of every second. Dad’ll encourage me, but be pretty much having kittens all the same.”

“I don’t blame them for being afraid,” Estela said quietly, looking out over the foaming sea as it gently lapped the shore. “We pretty much put everyone back home through hell, and no one knows the half of it. And your parents spent your whole life scared of losing you before you even came here.” She looked back to Quinn. “But it’s good you’re living your life for you. It’s all any decent parents really want, isn’t it? You being happy.”

“Yeah… and I think that’s the only thing allowing them to let go. But, hey! Once I’ve shown them all the photos I take of the resort you guys built over there, they’ll be wanting a San Trobida vacation themselves!”

Estela didn’t think it likely, but then if anyone could paint a picture of sunshine and rainbows, it would surely be Quinn. Maybe they needed to rope her into San Trobida’s tourism board.

Then, Michelle ventured the gentle query Estela had most been dreading.

“You can tell me to fuck off if this is too personal--”

Estela snorted softly, finding humour in Michelle’s Michelle-ness even as her stomach churned.

“--how are you and Tay doing on the baby front?”

“Well, I’m not pregnant. We keep trying every month, but…” Estela shrugged her shoulders and stared at her hands. A heart to heart was one thing, but she didn’t have any intention of full-on crying at what was meant to be a celebration. “Shit outta luck so far. It’s getting us both down-- and Diego too. He wants it so bad, but he downplays it to protect us. It’s pretty obvious to everyone that it’s starting to break me. Sometimes I can’t think of anything else, and it just… it just hurts.”

Her fears and frustrations over her thus-far failed attempts at falling pregnant had rarely been uttered aloud… not since it came about that Grace and Aleister were expecting their own little one. She daren’t broach the subject too deeply with her uncle; she couldn’t bear to have him hurting on her behalf after everything she’d already put him through, and Taylor had given up her well-meaning but unwelcome encouragement in finding support in that avenue. Taylor had Diego. Estela had him too, but as the proposed donor and a very emotionally invested party, he was too close to the situation to make talking easy.

“I’m selfish,” she said shortly.  “I’m selfish to care so much about genetics when there’s god knows how many kids in San Trobida who need loving families.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s selfish, Estela….” Michelle said, squeezing her hand. “For better or worse, most people take biological children as a given. It’s a tangible connection to people you love. I don’t think that holding a lot of meaning is selfish.”

“I guess…, Estela said, “it doesn’t matter if it is selfish or if it’s not. It… doesn’t change the way I feel. I want what I want, and it’s not going away. So, I push the guilt aside. I’ve done my part. Why shouldn’t I have one selfish thing that I want? Someone to love with a little piece of my mom in them.” She shook her head with a dark chuckle. “It’s looking, though, like my selfish want isn’t meant to come to anything anyhow. Iris says everything’s in working order, we get the timing right… but we can’t make it happen.”

Quinn hugged her. “That must be so hard. Even with everything doing what it’s meant to, there’s still so much luck involved. I’m sorry.”

Estela just sighed. “It is what it is. We have options-- and we can certainly afford medical assistance if it really just isn’t working. That would either mean moving back to the States or preferably bringing doctors over for short visits to La Huerta to perform IVF. But I’m not quite ready to throw the towel in and get help.”

“I’m guessing,” Quinn queried, “it’s a stupid question as to whether there are many options within San Trobida right now?”

“There’s so much that needs fixing. I do what I can, but it’s a long way off fertility treatment from being a priority. It’s frustrating, but my tio says I’m impatient, that things are truly progressing so well and so fast.”

Again, Estela shook her head, but with the finality that said she was done with the subject. It was a hard one, and she was fast approaching her limit. “We’re taking a break anyway. I’m about to be a tia, and I’m going to be there-- fully there-- for whenever Grace, Aleister and the baby need me. Right now, that’s what’s most important. We’ll go back to trying later… couple of months maybe.”

“Just make sure you’re looking after yourself as well,” Michelle said gravely. “Don’t think we don’t know how stubborn you are! We’re always on the end of the line if you need to vent. I’ll vent right back at you, because med school is a bitch, but I’ll always be there.”

Estela couldn’t help the small smile that quirked at her lips. “I’m sure we can work out a fair exchange.”

“How about a toast?” Quinn suggested, lifting her glass. “To our family growing.”

Pleased that the message had been received and the subject being put to rest, Estela raised her own to Quinn’s and gently chinked it, and Michelle followed suit. “Our family.”

Somehow, she felt that little bit lighter… a burden shared and all that.

________________________

The rest of the group were still buzzing when Estela rejoined them. She kept to the sidelines, though she never felt unwelcome.

“Katniss!” Jake called from the bar, which he’d apparently managed to commandeer from Raj, “Lemon, lime, bitters?”

“I’m good,” she replied. “You’re… sitting out of pool noodle jousting? Funny, that’s not like you.”

Jake smirked. “What can I say? Gotta give poor Heisman a chance to win one now and then.”

“I bet he really appreciates the condescension.”

“I’m a gift that keeps giving.”

“Sure you are, cabrón. Just don’t give it to me.”

While she ribbed Jake, Estela knew that he was finding this whole reunion business harder than most. He’d already made it pretty clear that he didn’t want to talk, so she didn’t push. But he’d be thinking on Mike as much as she herself was thinking on her mom.

Not wanting to get caught up too deep in that particular head-space, she focused back on the rest of their friends as they shouted and splashed in the pool. They all carried their own scars from La Huerta, but they were letting them fade into the background in favour of the simple joy of being with the people they loved most.

Her eye was drawn helplessly to Taylor-- how could it not be? Bathed in the light of the setting sun, Estela’s wife was literally glowing. Taylor in her happy place; surrounded by her people. She was a remarkable woman, Estela knew, as open-hearted as she was brave, and with an uncanny knack for feeling when the people around her needed a hand to hold or a shoulder to cry on. Poor Taylor had struggled so much with what she’d come from that she so easily missed the sheer wonder of who she was. Estela never did. She saw Taylor. Taylor-the-person. Sparkling with laughter as she talked with her friends. And Estela couldn’t help but smile as she watched her like that, and wonder how the hell a social butterfly like that could wind up falling in love with the strange loner. Then Taylor turned and met her wife’s gaze, and the smile changed, if anything becoming even sweeter. The warmth and understanding there needed no words.

“Hey!” Zahra called from the pool, “When you’re done making heart-eyes at Tayls, wanna team up and kick some ass?”

“Aw, Z!” Craig whined, and he dumped her from his shoulders. “After all we’ve been through?”

Estela didn’t need a lot of convincing. Either she could get caught up in her own head, or she could have a little fun with the best people she knew. The choice was easy. She stripped down to her swimwear, and having neatly placed her clothes on a deck chair, dived in.

Zahra was dishevelled from being dunked, but was smirking. “Heh, I’ve got freaking Estela. I hope you losers are bracing yourselves for a world of pain….”

________________________

From their balcony, tucked just away from the waning action at the poolside, Quinn and Michelle cuddled beneath a blanket and watched as one by one-- or two by two in some cases-- their friends retired to their respective hotel rooms. Like most everything else that day, there was a strange and comforting familiarity about it all.

Quinn noticed Estela helping up Grace, unsteady on her feet and eight months pregnant, and thinking back to the talk she’d had with Estela, was glad for them that they had one another. Then, with Aleister having retaken up his role as Grace’s arm to lean on, Estela and Taylor were wrapped around one another once more, giggling as they danced across the tiled ground. Sean, Craig and Raj all parted ways with exchanged slaps on the back and clasping of shoulders that snowballed into bear hugs. Tentative at first, Diego joined in, soon swamped in affection from the three much-larger men, while Jake jeered until he got roped into his own noogie. Quinn realised that those alarm bells her body had been blaring at her had all but subsided, as though the old confidence she’d always felt in the company of these friends had gotten the hint and kicked in. Trepidation had fallen away, and what remained was nothing short of contentment. Born, she knew, of a sense of belonging she could only have dreamed of for most of her life, sheltered as she’d been from her peers.

“’Chellie…,” she said softly, snuggling her head against Michelle’s neck, “you know, I am really, really happy to be back here. So much it’s surprised me.”

Michelle laughed dryly. “You know how much I was dreading this. If I don’t have another panic attack or three before the week’s out it’ll be a miracle….” She sighed, amused. “But it’s crazy how much it feels like home. It’s got to be the company. And I cannot wait to get back to the old med centre and catch up with the old team.”

Quinn kissed her lover’s cheek, slightly cool in the evening air. “This might turn into an annual group therapy session!”

“Yeah. It wouldn’t hurt… it’s not as if we can tell a damn soul back home half of what we went through.”

A soft smile came to Michelle’s face as she looked up from the resort grounds to the wilderness beyond. Further still, she knew, was the Catalyst village still standing, then Elyys’tel. After everything, it couldn’t not remain home to her in some deep way, this beautiful, insane place.

“I want us to keep coming back.”

#yes i'm still here #i actually wrote a damn thing #endless summer #marmo's reunions project #estela montoya #quinn kelly #michelle nguyen

[marmolady]

Pick Up The Pieces: Part One (Grace x Aleister)

Main Pairings: Graleister time!

Summary: During Book Three. Aleister and Grace are back with their friends, but his betrayal hangs over them both.

Word Count: 4265

Notes: It drove me nuts that (among many things that felt rushed in Book Three) the interpersonal effects of Aleister's betrayal-- ESPECIALLY with regards to Grace-- were barely touched on once he fought back against his father in Ch. 6. So, naturally, I saw fit to expand on things a little, mostly within the confines of the rushed canon... I'm only stretching and slowing time out a little bit.

Part Two is on the way, but I'm likely to take a break write a couple of other little things first.

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, ​@mauvecatfic @rhemenway888

Thanks for reading! Comments and re-blogs make me EXTRA happy.

_______________________

He sank down into the mattress in his new quarters, his head in his hands.

‘Dead’, his father had said. ‘Killed as they attempted an escape’.

All of them.

The swooping sickness in Aleister’s stomach and heart wouldn’t leave him. He knew it-- of course he did-- that he was ultimately responsible. But he fought it.

Those absolute fools. Did they honestly think they could fight their way out through countless heavily armoured mercenaries?

It shouldn’t surprise him that some among the group were too stupid to surrender and come quietly.

You pressed that button knowing who they were. Knowing they’d fight it. Their blood is on your hands.

He choked on a dry sob. Still convinced he was right, the cold truth dawned that it didn’t matter. Right or not, he couldn’t force his friends to join him, and they’d died for his attempt to make them do so. After everything….

He’d cared for his friends… they’d cared for him. It had been beginning to feel like he belonged somewhere, as though he might have taken his place as part of a family. Why couldn’t they bloody see that was why he was trying to protect them? Something so much bigger than them all, that they couldn’t hope to overcome-- why couldn’t they see there was no other way?

Then, Aleister brought himself up. Swallowed past the painful lump in his throat. Closed his eyes to the faces that swam through his mind. God, he couldn’t bear to linger upon those faces. So, he would not. Grace needed him now, whether she could see it or…. Oh, his heart ached at the thought of her; the way she’d looked at him… the way her own heart would surely shatter when he told her the fate of their… their family. But he’d be damned if he let her be just more collateral damage to whatever his father was scheming.

By any means necessary, he would keep Grace safe.

In the present-- though here the use of the word was laughable-- Aleister stumbled burned and bruised down to the servants’ quarters of Rosencraft Manor, a wounded Sean limping along beside him. Thought of time travel was bordering on the ordinary at this point, but Aleister couldn’t have foreseen this. There he was, searching for a way out of a monumental pickle of his father’s making-- in the 1920s of all things-- surrounded by the people he’d almost considered friends. As they all retired for the night, it boggled Aleister’s mind that he’d, for the most part, been accepted back into the fold.

Taylor had flung her arms around him and tearily hugged him tight, thanking him for saving everyone she loved. She’d gushed that what mattered was that they were on the same side again, that their best chance was to face what madness came their way together. Raj too had welcomed Aleister back into ‘the fam’ with literal open arms. Perhaps the two people most responsible for keeping the group together still saw him as one of them… so, there was hope.

There had been some who’d greeted his return in a rather more frosty manner; certainly if looks could kill, Aleister would have dropped dead on the spot for the glare Estela sent his way, but with another dilemma to solve, most of his friends had simply slipped back into how they always used to interact with him, and he was ribbing them in much the same way he always had. With Estela, though, and with Grace, he’d certainly be watching his step.

The group had decided unanimously that Grace should enjoy the more luxurious accommodations that had been offered, bearing in mind what she’d recently endured.

Suffering he’d let happen. In trying to protect her, no doubt, but as if that lessened her suffering in any way. Self-loathing boiled in Aleister’s gut at the thought.

Grace….

She’d saved his life. It would have been so easy for her to turn and walk away-- by all accounts she should have done. After everything his stupidity, his arrogance had put her through….  And yet, she wouldn’t leave without him. Could it be that she saw a glimmer of something decent in him still?

Aleister stumbled, a little light-headed still from the electric shock he’d received from the fried Omega Mech. A hand reached to steady him, and a strong arm grasped one of his own.

“Take it easy,” Sean said gently. “I didn’t see what happened back there, but it clearly knocked you around.”

Just in front of them, Michelle turned round, a frown upon her face. “For all we know, you could have internal burns. If we at least had some equipment to properly check you over….” She grumbled, shaking her head. “Best thing we can do now is cool water on your hand and arm, rest you up, and give you some serious pain-killers. I just can’t believe I owe you my life after the shit you pulled.”

Aleister supposed he’d best add Michelle to the list of people he was on thin ice with. Not that he could blame anyone’s resentment… he was certain he could live a hundred years more and never forgive himself.

“Michelle….” Sean urged. “Aleister showed us his true colours; he came through. It’s easy for us to judge but… that wasn’t our dad we were dealing with. That kind of history makes an impact.”

Feeling his cheeks flushing, surely a most hideous shade of pink, Aleister said nothing. Every instinct in him would have him snap in defence of his pride, but what was pride now? He was now resigned to the fact that humility would do him good.

The servants’ quarters were plain and a bit cramped, but cosy. Michelle would be leaving to join Grace and Michelle in the guest wing once she’d dealt with the walking wounded, so the small space only really needed to accommodate nine of them. Between four small rooms each with two narrow single beds, they’d manage easily enough.

Sean sat down upon a bed and called out to Aleister. “Want to be roommates? I have a sneaking suspicion we’ll get Raj in here as well; everyone else is coupling off pretty predictably.”

Managing not to sniff at the thought-- neither Sean nor Raj were small men, and those beds were positively poky-- Aleister gingerly sat down opposite him.

“Thank you, Sean.”

It was awkward. He’d held the man prisoner just days ago, for christ’s sake! Aleister said little as Michelle dealt with their respective injuries. The shock had left him numb and tingly in his burned fingers, while everything up from his palm throbbed. It was only sitting down now that it became clear just how dizzy he’d been-- he’d simply had to push through it. Obediently having taken the painkillers Michelle had offered him, he looked on in silence as she focused on stitching together the wound on Sean’s thigh.

Aleister kept himself quiet and inconspicuous until Michelle began to leave. He opened his mouth-- to ask her to tell Grace… but to tell Grace what? As if there were any message that could be passed on that’d help. They were far, far past that.

Again, he and Sean sat in uncomfortable quiet. Laughter from the next room on drifted through, only adding to the tension. There was but one thing for it….

“I don’t know how to even begin to apologise for….” Aleister winced. “Would you believe me if I told you I was truly doing what I thought would keep everyone safe?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I believe you.” Sean looked him in the eye, still warm, kind. Kinder than Aleister knew how to accept. “Thing is, we’re a team. You went and made a decision for all of us, damn well knowing we wouldn’t like it. It was a bad call, but I understand why you did it. See, I haven’t known you long, Aleister, but it strikes me that you’ve had to make a lot of calls all on your own.”

Why did it hurt so much to hear it that way? All of a sudden, Aleister’s eyes stung. “That is… more or less accurate,” he mumbled into his chest, desperately holding off tears. Should his father catch him weeping…. But it was that very thought that allowed him to let go, to cry. “I truly believed I’d killed you all….”

“We’re all still kicking. We’re all still fighting.” Sean one-legged-hopped to the other bed and put an arm around Aleister. “I really thought I was a goner back there, but you did, you came through, even with your dad looming over you, watching and waiting. I’ve been there man, and there’s nothing harder.”

“Yes,” Aleister croaked, “well….”

The door swung open and Raj barreled in with a flourish.

“Hey, hey! Room for a little one?”

Coughing, Aleister tried to collect himself. Raj caught the mortification upon his newly-reinstated friend’s face, and sat down opposite him with an expression so totally straight and serious in his concern that Aleister was shocked out of his embarrassment at being caught in such a state of vulnerability.

Sean cleared his throat. “I’m sure we can squeeze you in,” he said jovially. “Guess you decided against braving Estela’s snoring?”

“So, you believe me?” Raj asked. “Aw, broseph, I knew someone wouldn’t pin it all on me!”

Wiping away the last of those pesky tears, Aleister managed to speak. “I can’t say for certain that love is indeed blind, but Taylor provides some compelling evidence to love’s being a tad hard of hearing.”

But again, his face fell. How could he bear think of true love now? It was something lost to him, and he had no one to blame but himself.

“Or a really deep sleeper!” Sean offered with a laugh. “I’d put money on there being a few culprits in the snoring department, actually. Don’t tell Craig, but I’m gonna have to narc on him there.”

Raj collected a few cushions from the other rooms, put together a makeshift mattress between the beds of his two wounded friends and settled down. Then, he and Sean proceeded to talk Aleister through everything that had happened since he’d left them at MASADA. How Rourke had immediately ordered Lila to execute them, only for her to die enabling their escape. How the group had become separated as Arachnid pursued them. To hear it retold in such detail filled Aleister with horror and shame. Repent as he might, he could not take away what his friends had endured because of his mistakes. But the story continued…. The identity of The Endless, the recovery and subsequent loss of half the Island’s Heart, Zahra’s faked death, the time vortexes and the Anachronists, Uqzhaal’s turning on them, the appearance of the spirit of Vaanu…. It was much to take in, and Aleister said little.

“How are you holding up?” Sean asked when they’d finished. “It’s a lot to get your head around, and to hear it all at once….”

Aleister swallowed hard. He knew one thing for certain; The Endless was right that his father’s grand scheme could not be allowed to come to pass. Aleister had seen too much to have any doubt of that. “I could tell some tales myself. Since coming here, the bizarre, the alarming and the damn-near absurd have just become the norm. What’s painful is that for all that time, I was, to the people I cared most about, the enemy.”

Raj frowned sadly. “Look, dude, I get it. What happened back there cut me deep, and I know I wasn’t alone. But everything you’ve done since then has shown that you’ve been trying to get out of that corner you put yourself in. How you gonna fight back when Rourkey boy has Grace? You can’t.”

Again, tears sprung to the corners Aleister’s eyes. “It was a trap of my own making. My own worst enemy-- as, no doubt, he intended,” he spat. “I let that bastard play me like a fiddle--!”

“Yeah, but then you went and zapped us all back into existence! Baller move if ever there was one, and he never saw it coming!”

He did do that. He’d saved them all, and he’d saved Mike. There was no going back to his father’s side after what he’d done; those ties were severed for good, and his loyalty was clear. The man he was today, on that day there, he was proud of. It was a start. And tomorrow, he’d be that man again.

Aleister nodded and wiped his eyes. “Is it dusty in here? Have all the actual housekeepers cleared off?”

In the other bed, Sean pulled back his cover and got comfortable, wincing at the movement of his leg. “Just… try not to worry, and I guess try not to force anything. You belong with us. Everyone’s gonna realise that, even if it’s not all at once.”

He couldn’t bring himself to look Sean in the face, but Aleister nodded again, stiffly. Never could he have imagined striking up a friendship with the likes of Sean-- a jock, one of the most popular students at Hartfeld-- but that was just another surprise La Huerta had sprung on him. Sean was a good friend, and a fine, compassionate human being. The support he gave was touching, and what Aleister needed off the back of his darkest hour.

“... Thank you.”

From the floor, Raj agreed. “For sure, dude! Everyone knows it-- we’re best when we come together. The hard part now is just having a little faith. Ooh, and hey-- the patented Raj ten-step plan to romantic bliss is still on offer. If things with Grace, you know….”

“I fear we’re a long way past that.” Aleister sighed. “But then, who knows? What’s impossible these days?” He looked at his hands. “If there’s anything to be salvaged….”

It was pointless to think about it now. Rest… that was what he needed. To feel himself, to breathe, after the tight-rope walk between the salvation of everything he cared about and total disaster. Grace was safe. His father couldn’t reach her now, and she had trusted friends around. Those simple facts were enough for now. Time to rest.

_______________________________

“Grace?”

She said nothing. She would not, could not, utter a word to him. Not after what he’d done.

“Grace, I demanded you be accommodated properly--  for them to keep you here is… is inhumane! Father assures it’ll be done as soon as it’s been ascertained that you don’t pose a flight risk. Do you understand, Grace?”

He always had his way he said her name. As though she were precious, his name almost a prayer in its sanctity. That softness and warmth beneath his cold outer layers drew her in. That achingly familiar pain in his eyes; the pain of parental expectations that could never be met. That longing for love and tenderness that could never quite be earned.

“They….” Aleister’s voice broke, crackling over the speaker into her cell. “They’re all dead.”

Grace squeezed her eyes closed. No. She’d heard gunfire and feared the worst, but how could she bear believing it? Sweet Quinn for whom they’d defied time and space themselves to keep alive. Indomitable Raj who’d brought smiles to their faces in the face of darkness. Warm, open-hearted Taylor who’d listened to all of Grace’s hopes and fears without a trace of judgement. All of them… all of them… gone? She choked on the sob, not wanting a sound to be heard from her cell, but the tears flowed relentlessly.

“They tried to escape… attacked the guards. All of them… they were shot down….”

Was he crying? Did he know he’d done this? Their blood was on his hands.

Everything was lost.

“Grace? You look like you’re spacing out… do you need to sit down?”

And there she was, back in the present. Quinn had kindly accompanied her to the guest wing of Rosencraft Manor after the group insisted she, Grace, be the one to enjoy a little extra comfort. After the ordeal she’d had, that she deserved it was agreed upon unanimously. She was immensely grateful, but the images of Rourke’s wicked face upon the walls took her back to the darkest of places.

Thankfully, she had Quinn to keep her from drifting too deep into her own head.

The wing was opulent, rather unnervingly so after where she’d spent her past weeks. She found herself actually trembling as she sat down upon the luxurious mattress.

“Gracie, are you holding up okay?” Quinn asked gently, sitting beside her.

Wow…. It had been a long time since anyone had called her that.

Somehow, coming from a friend as dear as Quinn, it was comforting. A dear friend she’d grieved for. How precious her friends were now.

She chuckled softly. “I’m… reeling to be honest. I’m more relieved than I can put to words. And I feel so lucky to have you all as friends; the best friends I could ask for.”

Grace passed Quinn a folded piece of paper. “Taylor gave this to me. She found it underneath Aleister’s workstation.” With a trembling exhale, she watched her friend’s face as she read. “It… it does ring true. I know that he’d his mistakes back if he could. I had a lot of time to think about it, and I understand… he was terrified, terrified and stupidly convinced that he alone could see the right choice in front of us. I understand the fear, but how could anyone be so arrogant?”

Quinn finished the note, and handed it back to Grace, her expression kind. “Well, we saw that painting of Rourke back there-- I think it’s clear where the ego comes from. I was absolutely furious at what he did, but I still feel sorry for him. I think he was genuinely trying to save us all.”

“I think so too,” Grace sighed. “And I realised that as well, when I was alone in that cell all those nights, why he went into it all viewing himself as this pinnacle, above us all; with his father the way he is, he’s always had to. Just to not be overlooked. And as much as I can relate on a significant level, I can’t imagine ever….” She shook her head. Angry as she was, furious as she was, she refused to let herself forget the emotional abuse that had shaped Aleister. He’d clearly done the best he could with the broken tools his father had equipped him with. Would she have done any better had it been her mother there, playing the role of manipulator? She winced, taken back to her lowest lows, her loss of all control when all those years of turmoil exploded outwards.

Was that why this hurt so much? Could she not bear to look Aleister in the eye because she feared seeing the greatest shame she had in herself?

There was a creaking of the heavy door, and Michelle came through, a bottle of champagne in hand.

“Either of you two want a glass? Flora caught me on the way up here, practically forced it on me.”

Grace looked up, smiling shakily. “She has hope that she might actually get to be with the man she loves-- against all the odds. I can’t think of a better reason to want to celebrate.” Even after everything, if there was one thing she believed in, it was love. She wouldn’t let herself lose that.  “All right! I’ll have a glass.”

Giving Grace a sympathetic glance and grasping her hand, Quinn nodded. “I’ll always drink to love winning the day.”

The three of them sat on the canopy bed together, relaxing into the plush pillows and sipping champagne.

“How is he?” Grace asked quietly. “Aleister. For a moment, I thought….” She shook her head. “Whatever he did, I don’t think I could bear it if… well, it doesn’t matter now.”

“He’ll live,” Michelle said brusquely, then she softened. “He’s lucky. I’m going to keep a close watch on him in case there’s hidden damage, but he’s okay.

“Thank you, Michelle.” Relief had flooded Grace’s body. If he hadn’t been all right…. It seemed she couldn’t just switch off caring about him. Even hearing Michelle’s tone made something protective-- defensive-- fare up within her. He was an arrogant fool to do what he’d done, but he was also the man she’d found herself falling in love with. More than that, he was the one person in whom she’d ever found a kindred spirit, a connection so powerful that her world felt different, better, for knowing him. It was all in conflict, and it hurt.

“He was an idiot, an absolute pompous idiot!” She took another mouthful of champagne. “But he was never… never not on our side.”

For a little while, the three of them were quiet, thoughtful.

Grace swallowed hard. “He told me you were all dead. He believed it too… I know he did, his voice…. He sounded so broken. And I hated him because it was his fault, and I hated myself because it was to save me.”

She wept, unable to force past the lump in her throat any longer. She let it out-- the anger and the fear, the grief and utter despair. It was done, and she could begin to release it.

“Oh, Grace….” Michelle held Grace as she sobbed. She took her head in her hands and cradled her there against her shoulder. “I can’t even imagine. It’s bad enough fearing the worst, without it being pretty much confirmed.” She shuddered involuntarily, going back to the horror of the escape from MASADA. “When we were… when we were getting away, the group got split in two. I escaped-- just-- in the gondola with Raj, Diego and Varyyn, and we could just watch helplessly as everyone else tried….”

The three of them huddled closer together, hanging on for comfort. Some things needed to be spoken aloud, to be felt, so they could be moved through.

“Everyone else took a chopper. A-and we watched as Zahra fell-- I don’t even want to think about how high it was….”

Grace put a hand to her mouth. “Oh my--”

Michelle met Quinn’s eyes, almost apologetic. “Then Quinn, doing her superhero thing… blasted out of the sky. And then Taylor fell, and the whole thing just went down, everyone else still inside. It felt like it was all happening in slow motion you know….”

“It must have been horrible,” Quinn whispered. “I already told Grace about what I’ve been up to-- I think I was lucky to be knocked unconscious before seeing the helicopter crash. I just… kept doing whatever I could to find everyone again.”

“Horrible is right,” Michelle said. “Absolutely fucking horrible. You don’t realise just how much people mean to you until--” She scoffed. “Well, maybe that’s just me. Having true friends like this is newer to me than I’d really like to admit. But god….” Pushing her hair back from her face, she looked at Grace. “You know Zahra faked her own death?”

“What?”

It was Quinn’s turn to shudder. Her voice was small when she spoke. “She’d… she’d planted a skeleton. Sort of dressed it up to look like her, so Rourke wouldn’t come after her. S-she had us fooled. She really had us fooled. And poor Craig was just….”

Grace grasped her friends’ hands. So, they knew exactly the same grief she’d experienced herself. How long had it been before the bonds between the twelve of them had become, well, everything? Before coming to this island, half the group probably wouldn’t even be able to recognise all the others by name, and now…. It was like family.

“He was shattered,” Michelle finished on Quinn’s behalf. “And that was when this ‘Vaanu’ thing showed up again, and then… there she was. Alive and kicking and making out with Craig.” She laughed weakly. “The emotional roller-coaster is really getting more than I can take.”

“We’re together now,” Grace said softly. Even after all she’d been through herself, her instinct was to reassure. Hope was so much easier to hold onto when the people you loved were there to hang on with you. “Jake even has Mike back, and they’re waiting for us. I’m just… so happy we’ve all come through. I’ve got my friends back.”

“And you’re not about to lose us again,” Quinn said resolutely.

From where she’d come from, it seemed to Grace a miracle they’d made it this far…. They’d seen some impossible things, and if she was to believe in any impossible thing, it was the hope that they’d see this all through, together. She believed in these people. Even Aleister. Maybe --even after all that had happened-- especially Aleister.

Between her two dear friends, Grace snuggled down into the luxurious blankets and let herself breathe deeply, lulling her tired mind to a state of rest that had been unreachable to her. For the first time in so many days-- had it been two weeks even?-- she closed her eyes at night without the pit of dread for the morning that would follow. The new day would bring a way forward, one more step toward peace and safety.

In her warm cocoon, even trepidatious thoughts of Aleister, of fearing for his life, of love and anger, of the confrontation she knew must lie ahead if they were to have any future at all… they couldn’t trouble her now. In finding her friends, she’d found her strongest self. They’d all found their strongest selves. And she could handle it.

#endless summer #playchoices #graleister #grace x aleister #aleister x grace #aleister rourke #grace hall

[mcbangle]

WIP Game

Rules: Write the latest line from your wip and tag as many people as there are words in the line. Make a new post, don’t reblog. Tagged by @feeisamarshmallow

He partially sat up and gestured to the hinged wooden box.

Am I writing? Yes! Will I ever finish and post it? Who knows!

Tagging from my latest notes @running-rabbit @immcfuckinglosingmyshit @notherefortheanonhate @spookycactibeliever @mauvecatfic @bethanyactually @aristofranes @eggy-tea @ivecarvedawoodenheart @tardis-stowaway @hullomoon and anyone else who wants to play.

#wip game #my writing