On Shadow

[prydeful]

It's weird to wake up and be solid.

Piotr's arm is over her, which sometimes happens even if she's phased, but the bed is also solid beneath her.

It's just--

It's weird. It's only been a few nights, and she's telling herself she'll get used to it.

It's not bad, anyway, she reminds herself as she gets up and heads to the bathroom, uses the toilet and splashes some water on her face.

She stops to look in the mirror for a moment, studies the Kate Pryde who's studying her back, and thinks, You could be pregnant and feels a little sick to her stomach.

She needs, maybe, Kate thinks, to not think about that in the middle of the night. There are too many ways to get lost in her own thoughts, alone.

When she heads back to bed Piotr's stirring slightly in his sleep; it makes her bend to kiss him, softly, drift a hand over his hair, and whisper a shhh that may wake him more than let him sleep, but is still meant for comfort.

Comments

[prydeful]

"Maybe." She's not going to say he's wrong.

She doesn't actually say anything after that, just looks at her boyfriend instead and after a few minutes of silence starts to stroke his hair.

"I lived without it for thirteen years. You'd think I could get used to not phasing again without a problem."

Except for how you really wouldn't think that, if you knew her.

"M'still trying."

[steelartisan]

Twelve years of phasing is a long time, too. Almost half her life.

He doesn't say that. But they both know it.

"It will get easier." Just about everything does, sooner or later.

[prydeful]

"Maybe."

She's not sure of that.

Kate's quiet for a moment before asking, "What if it doesn't?"

[steelartisan]

"Then we will deal with it. Together, Katya."

[prydeful]

"We don't have a 'how' for that one, though, Piotr."

It's just whispered, as she studies their blanket.

"What if I slip?"

[steelartisan]

"You will not." He brushes light knuckles over her cheekbone, studies the pooled shadows of her face in the moonlight. "You are too stubborn."

"We can only try," he adds, softly. "Everything in our lives is full of maybe and if. We have always known that. And so we will deal with what comes. But we will try -- do our best -- and we will make it work."

They're both stubborn. And neither one of them's ever mastered the skill of paying attention to the odds.

Sometimes ignoring the odds is a good habit to be in.

[prydeful]

"I'm just--one slip, Piotr. And we might not even know what it could do. One slip and we might stop it before it's had a real chance to start."

I'm scared she doesn't say and she's saying loud and clear both.

"I know. We'll try. I do know. I just--I keep thinking. About everything."

[steelartisan]

Piotr nods. She can feel the motion, whether or not she can see it clearly; all the same, he adds, "I know."

And the thing is -- he can't say don't worry about it, or it'll all be fine. Because these fears are rational, and they have been all along, and she knows it.

(He's scared too.)

[prydeful]

"I just have this image. Of me forgetting. Just for a minute, and phasing into the shower, or letting a shirt drop. Something stupid. And then--"

And then everything.

(Her hand has crept back to rest on her stomach.)

"Sometimes I wish we were normal," Kate says finally, tiredly.

[steelartisan]

Piotr is silent for a few moments, breathing slowly in the darkness. His hand slips over her ribs, the silky fabric of her pajama top, to lace with hers over her stomach.

"If you are not..."

"We could always wait longer. You could get used to it more gradually. If it would help."

[prydeful]

Kate doesn't answer that.

Or not in words, anyway. Not immediately. Just turns her head so her face is pressed against his neck and sighs.

"I'm always going to be scared of this," she whispers finally. "Thank you. But I don't--waiting won't make it better. And it won't change what we have to do in the end. What I have to do. And what happens if I slip."

She's switched to Russian along the way without realizing it.

"We want this. You and I both do. I am just--"

And then Russian, English, or Shi'ar, it doesn't matter, because she can't find the right words. Just shrugs, and closes her eyes, and turns her face into his neck a little more.

[steelartisan]

Piotr strokes her hair slowly in silence, holding Kate close against him.

That, at least, he can do, and there's comfort in it.

[prydeful]

"I am scared of your face if we lose our baby and it's my fault," Kate whispers finally.

[steelartisan]

Piotr's hand stills.





"I know you will love our child as much as I will," he whispers, after a long slow breath. That's just fact to him, clear and utterly certain. "No matter when. No matter what. You will be a good mother."

"I could never blame you. Because I know that. You will work as hard as anyone could to keep the baby safe. You are even now."

"If we -- if it happens. For any reason. We will both grieve, yes." He doesn't even want to contemplate the idea. But they have to; it's there, and much too possible to ignore. "No matter why or how. And I will love you no matter what happens, Katya."

"I believe in you."

Not in her infallibility. They're both human. They've known each other for eleven years; he's seen her fail and seen her at her worst, just as she's seen him.

But in her strength.

In her determination.

And in how far she'll go, what she'll do, for the people she loves.

[prydeful]

"Sap," is what Kate whispers after a minute.

But she's smiling, a little.

And her fingers lace a little more with his after a moment, and she holds his hand a little more firmly.

"The not-knowing scares me the most," she admits after a minute.

[steelartisan]

"Da."

He can be comforting; he can hold her and reassure her, and mean every word.

But he's still nervous too.

There are so many what-ifs. So many, everywhere.

[prydeful]

Kate sighs and is quiet for a few minutes, listening to his breathing and his heart.

(He shifts under her. Tiny movements. She can't help noticing them still.)

"This is what we're letting ourselves in for, you know. A lot of nights of us both worrying. And that's before we actually have a child depending on us."

Her tone is more wry than anything else.

"I still want this with you," she adds, more softly. "That doesn't stop me. I think we're both nuts. But I've kinda known that one for about a decade, so it's not really a shock."

[steelartisan]

"Why grow sensible now?"

He's smiling, just a little and crooked, and his tone matches it.

"We are X-Men. I am not sure we're capable anyway."

[prydeful]

"That's an old excuse."

She leans in to kiss him once anyway.

"I'm happy with our choices," she adds, quietly, as she pulls back. "With this one."

His hand gets resettled more comfortably on her stomach.

"With us. It's good."

[steelartisan]

Tried and true.

"Good," is all he whispers, but he's smiling in the darkness, soft and warm and real, and his body is relaxed against hers.

[prydeful]

"Could try some more of the baby-making attempts," she muses.

"But I think you should kiss me either way. A lot."

[steelartisan]

Piotr laughs softly, and pulls her closer to oblige.

Kissing Kate is not exactly a hardship, here.

[prydeful]

"Mmm."

Her fingers thread through his hair before she smiles and kisses him once more.

"I'm awfully lucky to have you with me," Kate murmurs. "And grateful. My Piotr."

[steelartisan]

"We are both lucky."

Sometimes lucky seems the furthest thing from reality for them, and for their world.

And sometimes -- like now, as he nudges Kate's head closer to kiss her again -- it's nothing but the truth.

[prydeful]

"Dork."

One thing she appreciates feeling: his body, large and warm, under hers as she stretches a leg over him some more and thinks mine contentedly.

"Done panicking for tonight, I think. Feeling too content to."