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marmolady · 1 day ago

Text

Conor

Main Pairings: Michelle x Quinn

Summary: Michelle and Quinn welcome a baby boy.

Word Count: 5252

Thanks for reading!

USA, September 2031

“We really are going to have to invest in a pacifier,” Michelle commented, her voice soft so as to not wake the sleeping infant who had her little finger in his mouth. “Tag-teaming this is going to get old real fast.”

She was looking down at the tiny bundle in the hospital crib with eyes that shone with love. One day in, and little Conor Bien Nguyen-Kelly had an even tighter hold on her heart than he did on her finger.

“Thank you, babe…,” Quinn murmured sleepily, “for taking over….”

“The hell kind of doctor would I be if I didn’t let you rest after major surgery? If you’re on feeding duty, the least I can do is to help settle the little man.” Michelle smiled lovingly. “Besides… there’s something so wonderfully peaceful about just sitting here with him. Getting to know him. I’m happy. I’m really, really happy.”

Quinn looked over her sweet newborn son, dozing contentedly with his mommy’s soothing finger. It hadn’t all gone to plan, but the end result was what mattered; Conor was here, and he was safe and healthy. At eight pounds six ounces, he was bigger than Isla had been, and had rather less hair-- though there was a fine hint of auburn fuzz coming through at the back of his head.

“He’s perfect,” she whispered.

Conor was a miraculous, impossible thing; her healthy son whom she’d made, and carried, and grown. His very existence was just another gift La Huerta had given.

“Isn’t he just?” Michelle gushed softly. “He’s so like you-- not just because he’s gorgeous. He’s really got that look of you when you were a baby.”

She could just sit there looking at him for hours. It was crazy to think of all that it had taken to get him here. Interdimensional time-travel to save his mama’s life... a year trapped at the end of the world for his mama and mommy to fall in love… a little bit of resurrection of the earth and humanity as they knew it… then a sperm donor, a few visits to a clinic and a nerve-wracking pregnancy… it all brought them to this. Surely, it was only going to be easier from here on in. So long as they were seeing it out together.

“I hate that I’m leaving you,” she said, frowning, knowing she’d soon have to pass Conor back to Quinn. There was really no getting around it. Neither of them were willing to leave their older child, four-year-old Isla, in the care of anyone else at such a pivotal time in the life of their family.

“I know,” Quinn agreed, “I hate it too. But if I find myself going to a dark place, I can just look over here….” She nodded toward the crib. “…and remember that this time, my body’s given me something wonderful. And I’ll remember the end in sight. Con and I will be home before we know it.”

Michelle looked into her wife’s eyes, and her heart thrummed with love. If she could just stay there with her… but it simply wasn’t possible.

“And you’re sure you don’t want me to rope in someone else to sit with you?”

She knew that, beneath the elation, Quinn had been knocked around emotionally by the emergency delivery. For so much of her life, Quinn had needed medical intervention… she’d so longed to do this with as little assistance as possible. There had been not a moment’s hesitation when plans had to change, but Michelle sensed a hurt that would need tending to.

“I’ll just sleep,” Quinn insisted, shaking her head. “Well, sleep and tend to Little Man. Just give Isla the biggest squeeze from me.”

For all the smiles she plastered on, she missed Michelle the moment the door closed. She sucked in a breath and found tears threatening to fall.

“I love you, Little Man…. Help me get through tonight?”

She settled in and took a few deep breaths. They really would do anything for this kid. A night in hospital? That was nothing.

_______________________

USA, 2035

“Oh my god. Conor!”

The four-year-old had a wild look in his eyes, beautifully complimenting the mud-splatters from his top to his toe, and the leafy debris caught in his short red hair.

Quinn didn’t have time for this. It was an utter relief that Michelle wasn’t yet home, for after the week she’d had, the little mud monster that had become of their sweet son would have tipped her over to sobbing-on-the-floor territory.

“Mama!” he cried, quite happily oblivious to the stress of his mother. “I’m Adventurer Con! I adventured into a big swamp I made.”

On the verge of pulling her hair out she might be, but Quinn righted herself quickly. Conor was a kid, that he could embracing being a kid was a good thing. That meant mud, and scraped knees, and running late, and ornaments broken, and-- she had no doubt-- a few worry-lines appearing upon her face. She’d been his age when her many of her simple childhood joys ended, and it was something that deeply influenced her approach to parenting.

“Do you mind adventuring over to Bathroom Falls for a quick shower, honey?” she gently prodded. “Mom will be home soon, and we’ll want to get you into some dry clothes for Isla’s parent evening.”

Parent evening was no fun at all. They’d not managed to find anyone to sit for the kids, so they’d be coming along, with the promise of pizza-and-movie night to follow keeping them cooperative. Whether that was enough to convince Conor to leave the mud-monster’s den he’d dug out for himself under the backyard slide was another matter.

She needn’t have worried. Conor belly-crawled out of his home-made swamp and came running, throwing his arms around his Mama with a wet splat.

“Lovely!” Quinn chuckled, on the verge of hysteria. It seemed she’d be having a shower herself. She’d just have to make it a quick one-- after a long day at the hospital, Michelle would certainly be in need of a relaxing soak before immersing herself into her second job, that of a mother-of-two.

Conor lifted his chin, gazing up at his mama while his head rested against her belly with a laugh still upon his face.

“Heheh, now you’re a swamp ‘venturer like me, Mama!”

“I sure am! So, what’s it to be-- shower or bath?”

But he took her hand in hers. “Five minutes?”

“My darling, I’m not sure you know what ‘five minutes’ is….” Experience told her he definitely did not.

“But you know. You can count! And just have a small, teeny-weeny ‘venture with me.”

Quinn’s face fell. Oh, sweetheart, not tonight. “That sounds a lot of fun… but Mommy’s going to be very tired when she gets home; it’s important we’re all ready to go so she doesn’t have anything else to worry about.”

“I bet doctors worry a lot. If they get things wrong, people might die, or their lungs fall off, or something like that.”

“Yeah, pretty much. It’s a tough gig. So--”

“So we should wait ‘til Mommy gets back, then we can all play in the mud together! It’s a good thing to do instead of worrying.”

That little face was so earnest, his sweet nature shining through; it made Quinn melt every time. Conor would, though, need his good intentions steering in a different direction, lest poor Michelle be reduced to tears after a long day.

“How about,” she countered, “we schedule the messy play for Mommy’s day off? Between us, we can find something to do that’s so fun that the worries all fade away. Right now, though, Mommy’s just going to want to rest and relax.”

Conor pouted, but relented, grasping his mama’s hand with an unfortunate squelch of mud. “Okay. Bathroom Falls is fun too.”

____________________

USA, September 2031

Michelle opened the front door, and found herself almost bowled over by the two little girls that charged through.

“Easy, girls-- remember indoor feet and indoor voices, there is a baby in here!”

Taylor was a couple of steps after the hurricane that was the combined force of Isla and Liv. “Liv!” she hissed. “I know you’re excited, but I’m going to need you to do ‘excited’ in a calm way. You’re setting an example for Isla here, kiddo.”

“Sorry, Auntie Meech!” Liv whispered loudly.

Isla did a little dance on her toes as she reached up to hug her mom. “Mommy!” she said-- not exactly quiet, but quiet-by-the-standards-of-a-four-year-old. “We saw seven giraffes-- I counted! And there was a really big lion with a fluffy mane, and also not-fluffy lions which are girl ones, and also some baby ones!”

In no time at all, the girls were rushing out into the yard, somehow with more energy still to burn off.

“Thanks so much for this, Taylor,” Michelle gushed, putting an arm around her old friend’s shoulders. “I can’t tell you how nice it’s been to just have some bonding time between the three of us, without feeling like we’re neglecting Isla. And she has been such a gem, you know? An absolute angel. She’s so deserved a fun day out… so thank you.”

Taylor hugged her back, and kissed her on the cheek. “It was no trouble. Seriously. Miss La-la is a joy; it’s never a chore.” She glanced back over her shoulder toward the door. “’Stel’s just stopping off to pick up those few things Quinn said you were getting low on. Shouldn’t be long and we’ll leave you in peace.”

“You’re not staying for a little cuddle?” Michelle asked, quirking a brow.

“You know I’d never say ‘no’… but we’ll take your lead. I know it’s hard to find the balance between helpful and overbearing, and I wouldn’t want to unsettle him….”

Michelle was practical. So long as Liv was here, Isla would be happily occupied, which made it a hell of a lot easier to organise dinner while she and Quinn were also juggling caring for a newborn. But even aside from that, Taylor and Estela were easy company, close enough that they could lounge bras-off, hair-a-mess, and more than likely splattered with baby vomit, and not feel uncomfortable.

“Well, Quinn’s just finishing off a feed now, we were going to have some cuddles anyway before settling him down again. You know I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.”

Taylor gave a little laugh. “Heh, true. I can’t argue with that. If we’re not intruding, yes, I’d love for us to stay a little while… so long as we’re not getting in your hair.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! You’re staying.” Michelle knew Taylor wouldn’t argue once her foot was down. Hell, Estela wouldn’t dare argue when Michelle put her foot down. “But if you go too hard on being apologetic about it, that’ll get old quick.”

The closeness both Michelle and Quinn shared with their Catalyst family never seemed to ebb, in spite of the passing of years. Other friends came and went-- some became closer than others-- but in times of vulnerability, it always came back to the twelve of them. They’d be Conor’s aunts and uncles, just as they had always been to Isla. Right now, the new mothers-of-two could use all the non-intrusive help they could get… and their chosen family would be there for them.

In the bedroom, Quinn smiled as she watched her little Isla out the window. Isla had taken Liv into the backyard, and had roped her into a game of ‘horsey’.

“It’s not gonna feel like five minutes until you’ll be out there, giving those two a run for their money,” she said with a gentle laugh, cradling baby Conor. “But however much fun it looks, don’t you go growing up too fast on me.”

He’d been feeding well so far, which was a relief. Neither she nor Michelle had done the whole breastfeeding thing with Isla, so while much of the ‘mom to a newborn’ life was familiar, that aspect had been daunting. Even her success in that regard, though, brought anxiety. Quinn had carried the baby, Quinn was feeding the baby… where did that leave Michelle? It was hard not to feel guilt, but she knew guilt helped none of them. Quinn resolved to take this opportunity to have a good chat with Taylor and Estela who’d been through a similar experience with Liv… they’d get it.

Conor burbled as he unlatched himself, flopping satisfied against his mother’s chest. His facial expressions made Quinn smile-- already their little guy was brimming with personality. Gently, she propped him up on her shoulder to burp him.

“There you go, sweetheart, nice big belch for Mama!”

The bedroom door squeaked as Michelle poked her head in. “Hello there, beautiful.”

Quinn smiled softly. “Good timing, darling-- someone’s just finished a big feed. I think he’ll have the energy to meet some excited aunties before he dozes off.”

She gently passed the baby to Michelle; after her surgery she had to be careful about lifting him, so teamwork was needed.

Michelle immediately cuddled Conor close and kissed his bald little head. “Come on, kid… time to start meeting the squad. Don’t worry-- we’re starting you off on some of the easy ones….”

_______________________

La Huerta, 2037

Trekking through dense jungle-- in this instance, between Elyys’tel and Colonnade Cove-- was something Michelle had begrudgingly gotten used to. What she didn’t think she’d ever get a head for, though, was doing so with her curious and exuberant son in tow. Thank god, she’d thought to herself around twenty times already, they had helpers.

At this moment, he’d wandered into a small stream to inspect the leech that had just been removed from Grace’s calf.

“You mean it was eating your blood?” Conor asked, wide-eyed. He picked up a stick to poke the slimy creature.

“Yeah,” Imogen told him, completely unfazed. “Basically a vampire slug-- but Mom can give you the actual taxonomy if you want.”

Conor didn’t know what ‘taxonomy’ meant, but he understood ‘vampire slug’. “Ew, that’s disgusting!” he cried. “Do you think we can find some more?”

“Oh no.” Michelle was quick to nip that idea in the bud. “We’re going to encounter plenty of leeches without actually seeking the things out.” She shuddered.

Thankfully, Conor was happily distracted by the simple thrill of taking on the journey itself, and with the leech sent on its merry way, he returned to his favoured place at the front of the pack, greeting the unknown head-on.

Michelle rejoined her wife, slipping her hand into Quinn’s.

Quinn smiled, and of course, Michelle had to as well. Somehow, Quinn always remained radiant no matter how ghastly the humidity, or how tough the trek. She just glowed like the flowers around them with the sheer pleasure of being free to experience a beautiful world. Michelle was more of a ‘relaxing on the beach’ person, but she’d always take moments to see the world as her wife saw it. They were a part of something truly special, why not soak it in and enjoy?

The tricky bit now, was to temper her anxiety over her whirlwind of a son. It wasn’t really fair to throw around phrases like ‘walking disaster area’ but Conor just had his way of finding any danger or trouble, then cannon-balling right in. It was a balancing act. Conor needed the space to grow confidence in his own ability to take on the world. Quinn needed to give her children the freedom she’d desperately wished she’d been able to have. And Michelle needed to make for damn sure that her treasured son did not end up like the countless kids she’d seen grievously injured or worse, day after day at the hospital.

They’d had it easy with Isla. Confident as she’d always been, she’d not much cared for heights or thrills; not so her younger brother, who’d been an adrenaline junkie from the time he could toddle.

“Conor!”

Michelle felt her blood run cold at Isla’s cry cry, any discomfort in the stifling humidity falling away as she rushed forward. “--What’s happened?”

“He’s stuck!” announced little Michael from his perch piggybacking with his arms around Sean’s shoulders. “Oh no!”

This stream wasn’t small anymore, and Conor was right in the middle, perched high on a rickety log that was slippery with moss. As he moved, he slid down toward the jagged rocks below before scrambling back with his fingers clinging as if for dear life. On the bank, Isla was watching, helpless, panic clear in her wide eyes.

Having assessed the situation quickly, Estela jumped to action. Both strong and agile, she was able to manoeuvre herself onto the log and guide Conor into her arms, but with hands now full with a heavy kid, getting down was a greater challenge.

“I’ve got ya, Katniss--” Jake waded out, braced by Craig, and offered a hand.

Michelle was right there, ready to scoop up her precious, foolish boy, and when his feet touched dry land he was almost swept up off them again as she grabbed him.

“What do you think you were doing?”

Conor, not remotely flustered, still had a self-satisfied grin on his face, as if his misadventure had been a great personal achievement.

“I just wanted to climb it, it looked fun-- it was just a little bit slippy!”

With a great wordless cry of frustration, Michelle took Conor by the arm, away from the rest of the group.

“I am so sick of this!” she hissed. “We’re lucky you weren’t hurt-- that you didn’t get anyone else hurt when they had to rescue you!”

“I didn’t mean to get stuck, Mom--”

“No, you never do, but you just don’t think! Why don’t you ever just think?”

Conor, at last, showed some remorse in his face. “I’m sorry. I thought it would be easy.”

“Con, this is our time. An actual break, the best chance we get to relax, to enjoy ourselves as a family. Do you really want to spend the whole week on La Huerta in bed with a broken leg? Do you think Mama wants to spend this time in the hospital?”

Conor’s gaze flicked down guiltily. His mama hated the hospital. “No…. I’m sorry.”

Michelle sighed, almost a groan, and she ran her hands through her hair. God, this humidity….

“You’ve got to know your own limits. Especially out here.”

Michelle had seen too much, patched up too many wounds. And she knew… she knew she, and Quinn, and all of them, had died hundreds of times over in this place. Their guard could not be down, not even all these years later, with Rourke long gone and relations with the Vaanti peaceable. La Huerta was a wilderness, unforgiving. Sooner or later, one of the kids would learn that the hard way, and Conor seemed hell-bent on being the unlucky recipient of such a lesson. This talk, like all those that’d come before it, would go in one ear and out the other.

“Are you two okay?”

Quinn, of course, was eager to put her arms around her son, and Conor was more than happy to be wrapped in a cuddle. It wasn’t that he’d been scared, but that his moms had been. He’d show them someday… he could do anything the big kids could do, take on the dangers of La Huerta, and even fight bad guys like his moms once had.

“...I’ll be more careful…,” Conor mumbled. He hated careful. Careful was too much time ‘thinking’ and not enough time ‘doing’. But he’d try. He’d really, really try.

Quinn kissed the top of his head. “And best say ‘thank you’ to Estela for getting you down from there.”

As he ran off, Michelle sighed against her wife’s shoulder. “Next time, I’ll let him stay busy searching for fucking leeches….”

________________________

USA, October 2031

Quinn threw her arms tearfully around Michelle. She held her, squeezed her, and imagined they were someplace else. Anywhere else would be better than this.

She hiccoughed. “He’s just a baby.”

Conor could not be sick… not really sick. He was little, and fragile, and he didn’t deserve to suffer for one second.

Quinn couldn’t stop it. That was life, life was sickness. Long nights holding Isla through a terrible flu had been a torture Quinn wished she’d not have to repeat… but her kids were going to get sick, and she would always, always have the nagging dread….

Conor didn’t have Rotterdam’s. Iris had assured them both that Quinn’s entire genetic structure had been purged of its trace… she wouldn’t pass on the gene to her child. They’d tested in utero all the same, paranoid. Even if they hadn’t, it had never shown up in a child so young.

Those rasping coughs had their way of making Michelle sick with dread herself. How could she reassure her wife when she knew just how vulnerable young babies were?

But she’d try. She held Quinn’s hands.

“Con’s in the best possible place. Us being as paranoid as we are, we couldn’t have responded quicker. He’s going to be okay, baby.” Lovingly, she ran her fingers through Quinn’s hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. “And as for us? We’ll just have to hold on together through the rough ride.”

Exhaling shakily, Quinn put her forehead to Michelle’s. “You promise?”

“Cross my heart. I’ve got you, and I’m sure as hell going to need you to hold me up as well.”

Quinn offered a watery smile, all the courage she could muster wrapped up in it. “I’ll do my very best.”

At last, they were given the okay for cuddles. Never had Quinn been so nervous to pick up her own baby. He looked exhausted, his breathing laboured. It scared her half to death.

“I’ll take your lead,” Michelle said, and she placed a hand on her wife’s arm, her fingers brushing Conor’s soft skin, and it made her heart pang with aching love. “I can stay with him tonight, and you can hopefully get at least some sleep back home. Unless you’d rather be here?”

Quinn so desperately wanted to be with Conor, to hold him and never let him go. But….

“I think…,” she said, voice cracking, “I think if I stay here, I’ll break…. And I feel such a horrible mom--”

Michelle squeezed her, firm and insistent. She wouldn’t hear it. “You know what they said; only one of us overnight. There’s no point in making this any more traumatic than it needs to be; being in hospital is different for you and me, and that’s just a fact.”

Quinn sniffed. “I know he couldn’t be with anyone better.”

“And he’s got you as well, Quinn,” Michelle said seriously. “He’s lucky to have you.”

The little baby in Quinn’s arms could barely keep his eyes open; comforted by his Mama’s presence, he drifted peacefully to sleep for the first time since arriving at the hospital many hours ago.

“See? We’ll get through this.”

Her breath shuddering with emotion, Quinn stroked Conor’s cheek. They couldn’t protect him from everything-- if only-- but they could be there with him through it, facing every challenge.

“I know you’re scared,” Quinn whispered. “You don’t know where you are, what’s happening to you. But we’re here for you, and we love you. You’re gonna be okay, my brave little boy….”

And so will we.

________________________

USA, 2038

“How’re you feeling about it?” Quinn asked, snuggling closer to Michelle on her pillow. “At least a little vindicated?”

“Yes, well, I’m obviously not surprised. Now we’re certain what we’re dealing with, we can support him in ways that actually help.”

The pieces had finally slotted into place. ADHD, and dyslexia. Michelle had been convinced for some time, but official diagnoses took longer to reach their conclusions than did mother’s intuition.

“I just… part of me wonders if we could have been switched on to it earlier if my head wasn’t at work so much.” Michelle winced. “The usual guilt. Nothing new.”

“Hey.” Quinn cupped her wife’s face. “You’re an amazing mom. Look at the role model you are for them both-- you’re showing them determination, and compassion, and that the sky’s the limit with the right support. You’ve got that support, Chellie. You deserve to have your dreams… even if they don’t look quite as you always imagined them.

Neurosurgery had been thrown out the window as unrealistic. Not that Michelle didn’t believe she could get there, but that she knew the hours and the stress were not conducive to being the parent she wanted to be. So… she’d become a neurohospitalist. New York-- another dream-- was put aside, and the family had settled outside Northbridge, while she took up a position at Edenbrook Hospital. Actually, of all strokes of luck, they’d caught the big, beautiful house that had once been shared by half the Catalyst gang during their Senior year at Hartfeld as it went on the market; this place could not feel more home.

Michelle smiled ruefully. She couldn’t get everything quite right. Some dreams just… clashed. It had been eleven years since Isla was born, seven since Conor, and the balance was still one she fought with.

“Baby, you’ve always had Con’s back. You’ve tracked every milestone….” Quinn chuckled lovingly. “Sometimes like a woman possessed.”

“Maybe compensating for when I let him down,” Michelle sighed. The missed parents’ evenings… school award ceremonies… one time even his birthday party-- though that was filed under ‘never again’.

“No mom’s perfect,” Quinn said. “I’m the first to say I’m not.”

Michelle was quiet for a little while, just appreciating the comfort given by her wife’s embrace. She was given all the space she needed as she stumbled through her own thoughts and feelings; Quinn would never push her.

“I think I need to reconsider moving to a clinic position. The way things are at Edenbrook it’s not… sustainable. I know it’s been hard on you. Burnt-out Michelle is not much fun for anyone.”

Quinn stroked Michelle’s face. “But I still love her,” she said softly. “She’s worth taking the time to find that happy balance. She deserves to be fulfilled at work and home. Give her a break now and then.”

Then there was a thudding of footsteps from the hall.

“He’s awake,” the two women determined at once.

“Oh, Con,” Quinn uttered, shaking her head affectionately, if long-suffering. “Hopefully he’ll just grab a drink and go straight back to bed without any prompting.”

Michelle was already sitting up, ready to get on with the business of settling her son.

He’ll be an absolute zombie tomorrow if we have another bad night….

In a shared silence, they held a breath, then another… and then the thudding footsteps returned, before fell quiet.

“Nobody jinx it…,” Michelle whispered. Tentatively, still listening out, she huddled back under the covers.

__________________________

San Trobida, 2040

“I did pretty good on the plane, though, didn’t I, Mom?”

“The kid kicking the back of my chair could have learned a thing or two.” Michelle exhaled, letting it go. “You did great, Conor.”

“That was annoying,” Conor commiserated. “She must have switched seats sometime, ‘cause I had something whacking me when I was trying to sleep.”

He looked out the window, watching the scenery whiz by. They’d taken him to San Trobida a few times before, visiting family friends, so a lot of the sights and scents were familiar. In a lot of ways it was like La Huerta, but it was much louder and more peopley.

“Maybe we should move out here too,” Conor pondered out loud. A lot of his La Huerta family lived here now, and it meant they were lucky enough to visit their secret paradise more than once a year.

“I dunno,” Michelle said, “you’d leave behind some very sad grandparents….”

Conor had an answer for that. “Michael says he sees his grandmas more because they come and stay with them for weeks, not just visit for an afternoon like they used to.”

“But what about your friends?” Michelle countered. “And Isla’s. God, could you imagine the hell you’d have to pay if we uprooted her social life so you can spend your weekends goofing off in some jungle?”

The trees were getting farther apart; they were coming up to the coast. Surely, The Star of San Trobida was just a few minutes away, and with it, a reunion with Conor’s Mama and sister who’d arrived the day prior. Conor was pretty sure Isla could make new friends whenever she went, but for all the fuss she’d make about having to do so, it would be a greater challenge for him. He did already have friends here, though… Sean and Jake’s kid, Alex, was even in the same grade at school, and he could always write to the guys back in Northbridge….

But then, a thought occurred to him.

“Do they have hockey here?”

“You know, I don’t think they do.”

“Well, that idea’s out, then!”

“Con, the idea was never ‘in’. I think we’re all pretty happy with how our lives look right now. I know I am.”

Conor turned from the window and shared a smile with his mom. She looked pretty happy. They had to rearrange flights so that she could take him to the big game, and she’d been totally stressed out when she’d had to sort it all out over the phone with The Useless Travel Agent, but this had been fun.

“I’m happy,” he said. “And I was really happy you went to the game, even if we get a little less vacation.”

Michelle smiled all the broader, and squeezed her son’s knee. “Me too.”

_______________________

USA, October 2031

“It feels like we’re bringing him home for the first time all over again,” Quinn observed as she unlatched the baby capsule from the car.

Conor, though, had grown. He even had a little bit more hair coming through-- looking more like a fiery red by the day.

Isla peered up at her baby brother. “I missed him,” she said, and she reached out to touch. Always gentle, she wished she was old enough to scoop the baby up in her arms and carry him like the grown-ups did. “Did Conor miss me?”

“I’m sure he did,” Quinn said. “You tell him such great stories about the fun you have at daycare; it’s been hard for us to fill that role!”

“I do pictures for him too,” Isla reminded. “I did one of him, and Mama and Mommy, and me! And one of him and the doctors at the hospital.”

Michelle stroked her fingers through Isla’s hair. Isla didn’t know how much light her own personal sparkle brought to them when they needed it most. She’d been so cooperative during the past two weeks, weeks filled with stress and tears and worry.

“Do you want to put your drawings up on the wall in our room?” she asked. Generally, drawings belonged on the fridge, not on the neat-and-tidy bedroom wall, but the love given made for an exception.

Isla must have known the extent of the gesture coming from her Mom, because she did a little dance on her toes. “I can write on them if you help me! I want to write ‘welcome home, baby Conor, I love you!’.”

Michelle did the honours of opening the door. The four of them were home at last.

#endless summer #playchoices #michelle nguyen #quinn kelly #michelle x quinn #quinn x michelle #catalyst kiddos

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mysteli · 17 days ago

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WAKE UP - ANDROMEDA SNIPPET (ENDLESS SUMMER REWRITE)

A/N: Hello! This is a draft of the opening of my endless summer concept story. It's obviously not the full thing because there's spoilers like straight after for the main concept of the book lol. Hope you like it and you'll definitely understand where I got the idea from.

“Darlin’?”

She stirred at the word, but only internally. Her own mind could barely bring itself to function again and it certainly wasn’t used to it. Even her own thoughts were hard to form. It felt like she hadn’t moved mentally in forever and hearing a sound almost seemed like a foreign concept.

“Come on. Wake up.”

There it was again. That voice. The tone of a male. Strained and tainted with fear. Echoing like a ghost in her head. But was it a devil or an angel? “I know you’re there. Please.”

Again, she felt herself stir. This time physically, determined by the catch in his breath and the shock that came with it. All she had to do was open her eyes. Why did it feel like such a heavy burden to perform one action?

“You’re breathing!”

He gasped again. Less strain and more hope. Although her body felt completely numb, her senses were finally coming back to her. At last, her eyes shifted and she could open them half-way. Despite her blurred version, she caught sight of a face staring at her, shaking her gently.

The man didn’t talk for a while. He just waited impatiently for her to regain full consciousness. Not hearing his voice almost made her think she was falling into darkness again.

“Please…” Inhale. Exhale. With her breathing pattern finally falling into place, she tried to open her eyes further. She’s met face to face with the man calling out to her. He was strong-faced and tanned, with cerulean eyes that ignited with hope once her own had finally opened. In a way, she recognised him but in another, she’d never seen him until this very moment.

“Oh my god! You’re alive.” He exclaimed, running his hand over his sweating forehead. At this point, every part of him was relieved.

Adjusting to reality, she held his gaze for a long moment before the questions regarding the situation entered her mind at last. Where was she? Who was this man before her? Who was she? Clearing her throat, she attempted to speak. “I feel… numb.” She barely muttered, physically defeated and the man wasn’t at all surprised by it.

“I know. Don’t worry, I’m going to get you out.” He assured, unable to suppress a smile of satisfaction, which she was only confused by.

“Where… am I?”

The man turned his attention away from her, breaking their stare. Now, he was fiddling with something beside her that she couldn’t make out through her tainted vision.

“You’ve been asleep in this pod for five years. I’m sorry it took so long for me to find you.”

Suddenly, she felt her body shake. Whether it was a reaction to the reveal or her senses coming back to her she couldn’t decipher. What she could sense was that the numbness was starting to go away and her body was slowly becoming mobile. The man brought his eyes back to hers and they widened as the sight of her stirring.

“Can you move?”

Sure enough, her hand was now present. Movement felt natural again so she attempted her first action but something held her back.

“What…”

“You’re trapped. I’m tryna’ find a way to disable it.” He started moving his head frantically again but it abruptly fell down, while his eyes stared in that direction for a good moment.

“Ah, fuck it.”

BANG. BANG. BANG. Three straight shots and she felt a sharp pain on her arms. The numbness was fleeting but she still couldn’t stop her body from plummeting to the floor, meeting cold tile. The unknown man reacted, lifting her from the ground and clutching her in his arms, as carefully as he could.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked, panicked, hastily brushing her hair out of her face. Her brain still isn’t catching up, even as she looked in his eyes once more. No information was coming to her. Finally, her voice allowed her to form words.

“Who… are you?”

The man’s eyes widened, as if he was realising what was happening.

“Lo, come on. It’s me.”

It was as if he didn’t think he had to explain his identity. As if she was supposed to know. However, he did say one important thing. Something she recognised. He called her ‘Lo’.

“You don’t remember–”

BANG. Another loud and unsettling noise, and suddenly, she was on the floor again. Vision catching up swiftly now, she watched as the man grabbed his arm in pain. Two guard-looking figures had entered the room, both holding gigantic guns. One had obviously just been fired.

“You really never know when to fucking quit, do you, Wolf?” One of them speaks in a disgusted tone.

Wolf?

However, the man didn’t appear to slow down from the shot. In a flash, he ran at the two men, going for one of the high-powered guns. They wrestled for it for a couple seconds, before he lifted a leg and kicked the soldier's own to limit his balance. As a counter, the soldier goes for his opponent’s weak arm, causing him to seeth at the impact. Reacting, he steadies his grip on the heavy machinery and moves one of his hands to grab his gun from his belt, planting a shot in the leg he’d kicked. Now, the soldier was caught off guard, allowing her supposed saviour to take charge. The other soldier tried to shoot back but the man’s too fast. With no warning, he fired a flock of bullets that seemed to end the two soldiers' lives instantly. They fell to the floor, motionless.

Cautiously, the man stared at their corpses for a few moments, as if to make sure they’re truly dead. Satisfied, he turned his attention back to the girl, eyes wide from what she’d just witnessed. Rushing to her side, he attempted to help her to feet.

“Come on. We need to get out of here before more come.”

BANG.

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