#and yall might get some trimberly christmas fluff soon too who knows

[leaughrilke]

repeat the sounding joy

superbabies christmas special, pt. 2

find it on: ao3 ff.net

. . .

2020

. . .

“Kara?”  Lena’s hoping that her wife is home or, at least, in range to hear her—she was supposed to be done with Supergirl duty by now, but a little wiggle room is always penciled into the schedule Lena’s memorized, kept logged in the back of her mind.  Except—well.

This particular event is not wiggle room applicable.

Finn is nearing seven months and they are entering their first holiday season with him and Lena will be damned if their holiday card is not perfect.  Kara was the one that talked her into matching sweaters to begin with and now that Finn has managed to both vomit and poop all over his outfit, it’ll be Kara that comes up with a solution.

So long as the photographer Lena’s arranged to come by their apartment isn’t running early.

She’s not sure why she worried; Kara’s never been late without either calling ahead or having Alex do it for her and, so far, Lena’s not gotten a call.

“Alright, little man,” she sighs, fixing the top snap of the clean shirt she’s just dressed him in.  “Maybe Mama won’t notice that you’re a little out of sorts, hm?”

Finn coos back, parrots, “Mama!” and wiggles in Lena’s arms, obviously aiming to get back to his toys on the floor of his room.

There’s a brief rush of wind, a cool draft, and when Lena turns, Kara’s next to her.  And, bless her, holding a clean Finn-sized sweater.  “I figured it would be a good plan to keep extras on hand,” she says, stepping closer to tickle one of their son’s feet, grinning as he shrieks with laughter.

“Always so smart.”  Lena kisses her wife’s cheek, passes Finn off to her seamlessly.  “I need to wash up before Lenore gets here and I believe someone was missing his mama and would appreciate some quality time,” she says cheekily.

“How’s my man?” Kara asks, shifting her son to rest on her hip as Lena slips out of the room.  “How’s my Finster?”

Lena hurries in the bathroom, the doorbell ringing just as she reaches the bottom step of their stairs.  Kara’s just about to answer it when she notices Lena, turning quickly to flash a smile and a thumbs-up at her.  The movement elicits a giggle from Finn—they really lucked out with him, Lena thinks.  He’s always smiling, always happy.  She’d always been nervous thinking about having children, both for fear of a perpetually fussy baby as well as what her name would bring down on them.  But Finn?

Finn is wonderful, even smiles at the photographer when Kara opens the door for her.

“Hello handsome,” Lenore greets him before focusing on Kara and Lena.  “And hello moms!  I love the matched set.”

/

The shoot goes smoothly, with Kara and Lena selecting three shots for the Danvers family holiday card, as well as one for the L-Corp newsletter Lena started a few years earlier as a way to humanize her with her employees.

“Admit it,” Kara says later, after they’ve gotten Finn down for bed and are getting ready themselves.

Lena turns to raise an eyebrow at her wife, carefully pulling the backing off her snowflake earrings and setting them on the dresser.  “Admit what?”

Kara floats over, wraps her arms around Lena’s waist and rests her chin on her shoulder.  “You loooove the matching sweaters,” she teases, pressing a kiss to the skin exposed by the fallen strap of Lena’s nightdress.

“I will admit no such thing,” Lena smirks, turning in her wife’s arms and leaning up for a real kiss.  “We did the matching sweaters this year and never again.”

“Mhm,” Kara hums as she steers them both to bed.  “Whatever you say, babe.”

. . .

2022

. . .

“Finn, honey, please put your markers down.  Auntie Lenore is coming over so soon!  Don’t you want to be nice and clean then?”  Kara leans down to pull the offending items out of Finn’s death grip, whipping around to glare at Lena when she snorts at the exchange.  “Something funny, dear?”

“Nothing at all, sugarplum,” Lena responds, saccharine sweet even as she narrows her eyes in challenge.  It’s not her fault that Kara chose to be on Finn watch this year; Lena would have been more than happy to switch with her, barring feeding Maia who had apparently developed a distaste for bottles recently, but Kara had insisted.

The funny part, Lena thinks, is that same trademark stubbornness reflected in Finn is what’s starting to get on Kara’s nerves.

But Finn is sweet at his core, even if his terrible twos mask that sometimes.  He lets his mother wrestle the pens away with minimal fuss, even if he does look over imploringly at Lena, knowing that she’s the ultimate pushover when it comes to his baby blues.

“Nuh uh, kiddo,” she says firmly.  “Mama said coloring time is over.”

“Draw,” he whines, jutting out his bottom lip in a horrifically accurate recreation of Kara’s puppy dog pout.

“C’mon honey,” Kara huffs, picking up their son.  “You know that’s not fair—Mommy can’t resist that look.”  She pokes his cheek lightly, earns herself a damp raspberry from Finn in return.  “Where’s that smile, hm?"

Finn does start to smile a little begrudgingly, always an easy win even now.  Looking at them, Lena starts to understand that appeal of the matching sweaters—snowmen this year, as opposed to the previous theme of snowflakes; Kara and Finn look like a matched set, Maia looking much the same in Lena’s arms.  All bright and blonde and beautiful, all strong, all powered—sometimes Lena feels a little left out of their club, sometimes feels a little out of place when Maia and Finn fly up out of her reach to play, when only Kara can join them easily.

The sweaters are a tangible reminder that she’s not a separate entity from them, not really.  She may not be exactly the same, but she is part of the family, a part of these giggling, happy children.

Maia coos happily, begins to play with Lena’s fingers and rings.  “Are you excited for the photos, love?” Lena asks her, smiling when Maia turns her big blue eyes on her, a wide toothless grin her answer.

/

The card turns out a little messier than previous years, not quite as picture perfect as their first holiday card with Finn—he was grumpy through the process, so Kara had to tickle him to get a smile.  The movement sent Kara’s glasses slipping down her nose and she tried to catch them by turning her head up.  Lena’s a blur, caught half in motion as she turned to look at what was happening next to her.

Maia, of course, was the only one looking at the camera.

. . .

2025

. . .

Their first card with Stella is a different ballgame—quite frankly, Lena is close to just calling it.  It wouldn’t be a tragedy to miss one year, especially with Stella still so worryingly small, still so colicky and fussy, with them still so sleep deprived.  They had enough photos from the months leading up that could easily sub in for the card.

“It’s going to be fine,” Kara assures Lena when she voices her same argument for what has to be the fourth time today.  “Finn and Maia are pros at this and Stella took a nice, long nap, so she’s should be good.”

“I just—,” Lena starts, pulling her hair out of its bun.  “It just feels wrong to be focusing on this so much, considering how difficult this year has been for us.  Is that ridiculous?”

“Of course not,” Kara says soothingly.  “But this is our normal, right?  We should try and stick to our normal as much as possible, that’s what Dr. Neuhaus said.  Babies can sense when people are stressed and we have been so stressed.  Besides,” she grins, pulling an earlier abandoned bag out of their closet.  “I had these customized.”

The sweaters for this year are reindeers, a family of five; Lena saw them when they arrived and burst into tears.  The transition from four to five was much more difficult than they’d ever anticipated and part of her was still worried that the final paperwork for the adoption, stuck somewhere in the grinding gears of bureaucracy, would be denied even when their case worker had all but assured it.

Maybe that had more to do with her hesitance for this card than anything else.  She’s not sure she’d ever recover if they lost Stella now.  She is sure, however, that she’d be a wreck every time she saw the card if they did lose her.

“You’re overthinking,” Kara says at the same moment Stella starts wailing.

Lena still swivels to where, until a few weeks ago, Stella’s bassinet sat, tucked in a warmly lit corner of their bedroom.  They’d just moved her into what had used to be their home office, recently renovated for their unexpected addition and it still feels wrong to have to cross the hall to comfort their crying daughter.  Still feels too far.

“I’ll get her,” Lena tells Kara once she’s reoriented herself, heading to the hall.

Some of this extra fear, Lena’s sure, is because she never had to worry with Finn and Maia.  Finn never ran a temperature, virtually never fussed or cried, slept soundly from the very beginning—all credit to Kara’s genetics.  Maia’s powers manifested so early, Lena hardly had a chance to worry about her, at least not in the way she worries for Stella.

Little Stella, still so small and sickly.  She catches colds and stomach bugs with ease, runs fevers like she’s been training for them.  Lena and Kara hardly slept the first few months with her.

And now, as Lena steps into the low-lit room, Stella’s wails ratchet up an octave.  That’s normal, at least—she always gets worse before getting better.  Her crying sustains even when Lena picks her up, only beginning to quiet when Lena holds her close.  They’ll have to figure out a better pose than they were planning; it would have been Finn holding Stella, Maia on a step behind them, and her and Kara at the back, but that won’t work if Stella’s fussing.  She likes being close to her or Kara.  Small adjustments, Lena figures.  All worth it.

Stella calms quickly enough, allows Lena to change her and dress her in the family sweater.

By the time Lenore arrives, they’ve all sort of gotten their collective act together.  Kara holds Stella on her hip, Lena seated on the floor with Finn on one side, Maia on the other.  When they’re reviewing the shots after, Lena spots a The Shot, a candid snapped when no one was paying attention.  Finn’s telling her something, his arms a blur as he gestures animatedly; she and Maia have twin looks of concentration as they listen to him, though Lena’s smirking.  Kara is resting her forehead against Stella’s, both of them smiling.

/

When the call comes in from their case worker that their final paperwork has been approved, she makes sure to send everyone involved a copy of the newly expanded and legalized Danvers Family Holiday Card.

. . .

2054

. . .

“Moms?” Finn calls, holding the door open for the rest of his family.  “We’re here!”

“Finn!” Maia hisses curled up next to Beth on the couch.  “Why are you so loud?”

“You’re one to talk, sis,” he shoots back with an eye roll.

Nasrin sweeps in, pushing her husband out of the way with a gasp.  “Oh, is that her?�� she asks, ignoring Finn’s surprised laugh.  “Boys,” she scolds when her sons scramble for the couch to see their new cousin.

“She’s awake,” Beth assures her, shifting the bundle in her arms so that the newcomers can see her face.  Beth turns, asks her nephews, “Can you be really gentle?”

Cyrus, already taking tentative steps towards the trio on the couch, nods.  His brother, Jasper, follows him closely and says, “Is she gonna break?”

“Yes,” Maia answers just as Beth says, “Of course not.”  Finn glares at his sister as Beth continues.  “She’s just really small still and you guys are so strong!  You just have to be careful and support her head, if you want to hold her.”

Jasper looks back at his mother, easing herself into one of the armchairs.  “Is the new baby going to be this small?” he asks her, eyes on her ever-growing belly.

“Yes, love,” Nasrin hums, leaning back and resting her hands atop her stomach.  “You should start practicing gentle hands now.”

“Where’s Charlie?” Finn asks Maia as he sets his family’s bags down on the kitchen island.  “I have a question for him.”

“He’s supervising—.”

“Allie and Leo?”

“Mhm.  Snowball fight in the backyard.”

Cyrus bails at that, makes a dash for the back door and ignores his mother calling after him to slow down.  Jasper hesitates a moment, looks to his parents for approval and, after Finn laughs and tells him “Go!”, runs after his brother.

“Stell?” Finn asks finally.

Beth looks up again, smiling slightly at the mention of her wife.  “Laying down,” she answers.  “Lena just went to check on her, actually.”

“I’ll go—.”

Before Finn can finish his thought, Kara rounds the corner into the living room, arms piled high with holiday sweaters (this year’s theme, according to his mom’s email, was penguins).  “I thought that was you guys,” she says, smiling brightly at her son and daughter-in-law.  “Did the kids head outside?”

“Maia said the magic words,” Nasrin answers her.  “Snowball fight.”

Kara laughs, sets down the stack of sweaters on the coffee table.  “Good,” she sighs, stepping back to analyze the pile.  “They can work all their wiggles out now.  Have you seen your mom yet?” she asks Finn.

“Not yet.  Maia said she was checking on Stella?”

His mom swivels on her daughter then, eyebrows raised.  “What’s happening with Stella?”

“She’s fine,” Beth cuts in.  “Just healing up slower than she’d like and refusing to slow down at all to accommodate.”

Kara tuts and shakes her head.  “She’s always done that,” she grumbles.  “You too, Birdy.”  She swats at Maia’s shoulder accusatorially.  “Giving me grays, I swear.”

“Gee Ma,” Maia rolls her eyes.  “I wonder where we picked that up from.”

“I have never—!”

“Let’s not tell lies, love,” Lena hums, coming down the stairs.  “Credit where credit’s due and all that.  Have we got the sweaters sorted out?”

“Almost.”

“Perfect.  Lenore’s set to come over in twenty and Stella’s just washing up, so we should be on track.”

“Hi Mom,” Finn says, perched on the arm of his wife’s chair.

“Hi sweetheart,” Lena responds with a grin.  She hugs him tightly before leaning down to hug Nasrin.  “I thought I heard you all come in.”

“We’re sorry we’re late,” Nasrin apologizes.  “Cyrus’s game ran long and I wanted him to clean up before we headed over.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Lena assures her, squeezing her shoulder.  “We always plan a little wiggle-room into these things.”

“Okay,” Kara interrupts.  “We’ve got an extra sweater.”

Beth looks up from her conversation with Maia and asks, “You’re not double counting the newborns?  One for Tess and one for Finn and Nasrin, right?”

“Maybe the company made a mistake?” Lena suggests as she joins Beth and Maia on the couch, arms open to accept her granddaughter when Beth hands her off.

“Actually,” Maia says quietly.

All eyes turn to her.

“Charlie and I, uh, were going to wait a little longer to tell everyone, but I forgot I’d changed the order,” she says sheepishly.  The back door opens and Maia calls, “Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m about to tell them about the thing.”

“Oh!”  Charlie, covered in snow, rushes into the room, grinning wide.  “Really?”

“I forgot I changed the order for the sweaters.”

“Ah, gotcha.”

Kara, resting her arms on the pile of sweaters, extra and all, clears her throat.  “Your news?”

“Right!” Maia laughs.  “You all know that we had already put in the paperwork to adopt again when we got pregnant with Leo,” she explains.  “And, well.  We got a call a few months ago about a match.  We’ve been meeting with her at her foster home for the last several weeks and it’s looking like she’s going to be joining our family pretty soon.”

“What?”  Beth glares at her best friend.  “I’m getting another niece and you haven’t told me?”

“We haven’t really told anyone,” Charlie promises.  “We weren’t sure it was happening.  Josie’s older than Allie was when we adopted her, so we wanted to make sure she had some say in everything.”

“But it’s happening?” Kara asks, starting to tear up.

Maia nods, grinning.  “Yeah, Mama, it’s happening.  She’s coming home with us next week.”

Kara starts crying openly, dropping onto the other side of the couch and hugging her daughter.  Each grandchild’s announcement was met with tears and joy and this arrival would be no different.  Lena, on the other hand, quietly pulls out her phone.

Beth notices the small movement and raised her eyebrows.  “Researching?” she asks jokingly.

“Rescheduling,” Lena whispers back.  She dials before asking Maia, “Do you think she’d be up to meeting everyone then?”

Maia wipes her cheeks and nods.  “She’s been asking about that, actually.  She’s really excited to have a big family.”

“And how would she feel about matching sweaters?”

/

The final product, a sprawling, joyous shot that Kara and Lena frame for their mantle, features all fourteen and a half members of the family.

Nasrin holds the extra newborn sweater in front of her belly, Finn grinning proudly behind her.   Josie, already adored by every member of her newfound family, sits in Lena’s lap, her arm looped through Kara’s.  She took to her grandmothers quickly, but Lena’s memories of her time at the orphanage informed her care and words towards her new granddaughter and earned favor immediately.

Stella’s relegated to the couch with her mothers and Nasrin, a decision she’d protested loudly up until the day of, when she’d collapsed into her seat with a sigh of relief.  Tessa, in her arms, is yawning.  Cyrus managed to avoid his parents’ keen eyes and so Jasper has a pair of bunny ears—Allie sits on Charlie’s shoulders, Leo seated on the arm of the couch, his hand in Maia’s.  Beth’s found gazing down at her wife and daughter, her smile and adoration for them alone at the time.

Small things, little imperfections that Lena, as a child, was taught to hate—they make up the soul of her family.  The pulse, the breath, the things that remind her that this is real, this is the family she and Kara built together.  This is the reality she allowed herself all those years ago when she finally said yes.