homeless_pard | Later...home

Entry tags:

jason au,
starter

Later...home

Who: Khem, Jason
When: Home from WW.
What: Hello pregnancy?

She woke, smiling; how could she not? She was home, in her own bed in the rooms above the shop and her husband was beside her, hair honey in the light that leaked past the curtain. He worked late, so she oft woke before he did, with much to do in this world. Shops were open during the day after all and she had been away some time. Like they'd be short of many key items and no few medicines for her regulars. It felt wonderful to be back in the place she had made for herself honestly. She trusted her high lord to handle the horses that had come with them, and to look upon the grander view of their realm. She had...here.

Here and a husband and it was a wonderful thing. She kissed him gently before slipping from the bed. No matter they'd been months and months upon the search for her anchors in her old world and coming back to the gate, the wonder that was wedded life hadn't faded in the least for her. Her lord, her Jason, had chosen to cleave unto her. She had only to share him with her sworn high lord, a fealty as ingrained and accepted as breathing. Her Jason wouldst ever look for the feeling of the high lord's fangs, and betimes his bed. But otherwise he was hers and she wouldst never time of that fact.

Her bed. Their bed. It was enough to bring heat to her cheeks as she slipped down the stairs to the living quarters above the shop and set her kettle to brewing. Skilled was a mild term to apply to her love honestly. Heated mayhap, eager to share his knowledge...

...skill...

...she poured her morning tea without truly realizing, and lifted the cup to her lips when her talisman of Gunnora flared hot, truly burning and sharp against her chest. She yelped and dropped the cup, cup shattering on the floor as she bent forward to get the molten feeling gem off her skin. Ouch ouch ouch...she looked down at the mark on her chest, bewildered, then turned to go downstairs further to the greenhouse. A burn ointment, best to keep this...mild...and then he was staring at the mark for a moment, considering. What, and why?

What and why indeed?

How long had...her tea was not harmful unless...

...when had she last had a cycle?

She blinked, considering amongst the waving greenery in the glass house.

Unless she was three months in.

Almost on cue with the realization there was roil of mild nausea, she winced and fled back upstairs.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh dear.

She wiped her mouth and brushed her teeth, eyes large and dark in the mirror when she dared glance. She had to go...wake Jason. Right now. Yes. Wake him and apologize.

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But she had to have missed a day! She had to have! She didn't know what else this could be! He just got an utterly blank look at his statement though, because she was...very much still a woman from a medieval fantasy world? It was her responsibility to avoid or not? "No? What wouldst you not know?"

He saw that and reached out to squeeze her hand comfortingly. Well, it was meant to be comforting, but likely came off as nervous. "A bad joke, sorry. Can't really help it, I guess, when things are..." he gestured vaguely about them.

A deep breath and he met her eyes. "If...it's not like it's something you could have done by yourself, right? Pretty sure that's not how all that works."

His hands were shaking as he held hers. Shaking or fidgeting, was this how such was supposed to be?! She found herself squeezing his hands in kind, trying to offer comfort? "But it is my responsibility?" And he had rights as a husband? And in that she...

...ah the device had a beep when it was done and she near jumped out if her skin at the interruption. She was rather afraid to look honestly.

"Not here. And not with us." He shook his head and squeezed back, likely starting a compulsive back and forth of hand squeezing and fretting. "I could have made sure to use protection when I could. I...let myself be selfish when I heard you had your tea, but-"

That beep made him jump as well, and his face paled. He seemed just as afraid to look.

Things she had never thought to discuss with him because of course he need not worry? That this world might not assume such hadn't even occurred to her?

And it was much engrossing to stare at his hands yes. She was rather fond of his hands...right. This was ridiculous wasn't it? "What..." Ah, her throat was too dry she had to take a moment, "what do you hope is the result?"

He didn't answer directly; rather he stroked her hands with his thumbs. "I think," he said slowly, his voice creaking through his own dry throat, "that it might not be the best idea to wonder about what we're hoping."

His breath shuddered somewhat. "Do you want me to look?"

She wanted to know how badly this might go honestly but he was right, that was silly wasn't it? "On three?" She offered with a breathy, nervous laugh. Looking together might help?

He managed a weak smile and nodded. "Ok." Another deep breath and he offered, "One."

There was an almost pained pause before he managed the word, "Two."

He had to swallow through his tight throat as he dragged out the last number. "Three."

She squeezed his hands even tighter, her fingers would be bloodless by the end honestly, but that was a worry for another time. Now there was just the counting...

...and the growing scent of sun warmed wheat and ripe grapes? It grew stronger with each number and she actually found herself relaxing some, almost calm by the time they looked at the screen.

Of course she was.

Now what? She stared at Jason, waiting.

He was still pale, staring for a long time at the screen in dull shock.

Of course it was.

"Ok." he said weakly, trying to wet his very dry lips. "...ok."

Ah. Not something had...wanted. Why hadn't she spoken to him about this before?!

"My apologies my Jason. I'll..." She'd what? She had no idea.

He tore his eyes from the tiny screen on the table. He didn't look well, no, but she...

He forced himself up from the table. "No, honey, don't..." He pulled her, hands still shaking, into a desperate hug that made it impossible for him to hide the fear and panic inside him. "Don't apologize, Khem."

"You're so unhappy," she shivered, burying her face against his shoulder. So terribly unhappy.

What else was she supposed to do but try to fix that?! He'd never felt so fragile against him. Even drugged and raging with fever he had always felt solid and there, but a stiff breeze could shatter him right now!

He was very possibly clinging to her as much as she was burying her face into him. "I'm..." He couldn't say he wasn't? But that wasn't it, exactly. He tucked his nose behind her ear almost desperately as he breathed, "I'm...scared."

"...why?" How could this frighten a man who routinely faced nightwalkers and fights?! This was just something stressfully normal, wasn't it?

He was quietly breathing against her, but it would be easy for anyone to sense the inner turmoil, let alone Khemrys. "It's...it's not something I really...thought of," he murmured. "But...I don't know. It's just...got me really scared."

"But you are always so brave my Jason." It was almost impossible to comprehend honestly. She managed to wrap her arms around him, offering support? She had to stand strong for them both right now?

The was a soft snuffle against her neck that might have been a laugh. "No I haven't. But even that's all...different. This is...a kid. It's...you can't fuck up when there's a kid..." He fell silent for a moment before adding, "I don't have the best track record there."

...

...

...

"You already have a child?! WHAT ELSE COULD HE MEAN BY THAT?!

...

He blinked in confusion and pulled back to stare questioningly at her. "What? No, why..." He took a breath and tried to explain as calmly as he could. "Khem, I meant about fucking up: I'm always fucking up. And it's bad enough for human parents to fuck up, but being a lycanthrope, I can't fuck up."

"...I had thought that you meant a poor track record in not messing up a child!" She had to blurt that given the look on his face.

What? Just, what? "Whyever shouldst your state matter as a parent?!"

He had to laugh at that, pressing his forehead to hers. "God, no. Until I met you I didn't think kids would even ever be a possibility, and even then your Old Blood making it harder to..."

Well, apparently it was easier for Old Blood with someone from his world?

"What if for some reason I lose control? What if I accidentally hurt it because I'm not used to how much more...delicate it is? Or full moons? Oh fuck, what are we going to do on full moons? And I'm a known werewolf, what if someone...calls CPS or something? I don't know..."

She rubbed small circles at the small of his back, listening. He had worries so she must think after all?

Well, fir starters, "I am delicate my Jason and you've not harmed me," she pointed out. He was we'd to someone nowhere near his strength and she never feared his touch? "Come moons we ask the Nightwalkers, or mayhap the Nanas that enjoy my shop?" That was just sense? Moons were not to be feared.

But, well, "what is a CPS?"

His back arched subconsciously into her soothing touch. "I guess," he murmured, not sounding wholly convinced but not actively arguing the point.

But yeah. "CPS is...child protective services. I...I don't know all their rules because, well like I said, it wasn't something I thought was possible, but...humans don't see us as safe around kids. Enough to make me nervous about how they'd feel seeing a werewolf raising a kid."

They had a community, that meant they were not alone? At least in her mind.

"Ah, shouldst they ever be so cruel and pointless we may take our child to...your parents world to raise." It wasn't her world anymore after all.

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