Fills Post #2
Mar. 7th, 2021 01:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
theoldguardkinkmemeThis is where your fills go!
Fills can but don't need to be anonymous.
Start a new comment for each fill. Don't use threaded comments for new fills. Threaded comments are for fills that take up more than one comment field, or for feedback/squee/praise.
In your fill, please mention the prompt you are responding to, and provide a link to your prompt in the body of the text.
Please use a header with your character(s)/pairing and a title and/or keyword or short phrase. (For example: "Just you and me: Andy/Quynh, Make-up sex" or "Between a Rock and A Hard Place: Nicky/Joe/Booker, first time DP").
Please also comment with a link to your fill in the prompt post, under the prompt you are responding to. Your comment header should include the word "Fill" or "Filled", so that those checking out the thread can find your fic/art more easily (For example: "FILL: Re: Any/Quynh, Make-up sex").
If you end up cleaning up your fill and posting it elsewhere (AO3, your personal journal), feel free to link the posted fic/art here as well.
Fills can but don't need to be anonymous.
Start a new comment for each fill. Don't use threaded comments for new fills. Threaded comments are for fills that take up more than one comment field, or for feedback/squee/praise.
In your fill, please mention the prompt you are responding to, and provide a link to your prompt in the body of the text.
Please use a header with your character(s)/pairing and a title and/or keyword or short phrase. (For example: "Just you and me: Andy/Quynh, Make-up sex" or "Between a Rock and A Hard Place: Nicky/Joe/Booker, first time DP").
Please also comment with a link to your fill in the prompt post, under the prompt you are responding to. Your comment header should include the word "Fill" or "Filled", so that those checking out the thread can find your fic/art more easily (For example: "FILL: Re: Any/Quynh, Make-up sex").
If you end up cleaning up your fill and posting it elsewhere (AO3, your personal journal), feel free to link the posted fic/art here as well.
Fills on Pinboard: For a list of filled prompts on Pinboard, go here.
Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (6/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-05 12:13 am (UTC)First parts: https://theoldguardkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/694.html?thread=1879478#cmt1879478
Let's continue this here now then!
_____________________
It wasn’t even supposed to be a mission. Nicky had medical training, and Joe was nifty with engineering, so when they decided to join in humanitarian efforts at a refugee camp, and Andy tagged along, Nile thought her absence wouldn’t be felt too deeply. That they uncovered a child trafficking ring was incidental; that it ran deeper than they first thought was enough reason to have her back.
It didn’t mean she wasn’t worried all through it.
Something about the way Booker saw her off made her feel on edge. No, not something: the kiss. She hugged him, as always, on the threshold of his old building, and then he chose that moment to pull her into a kiss. Not a peck in the cheek, as she was used to giving him, or a press of lips against her forehead, as he sometimes did. A full-on kiss that followed her through the days away, and made her anxious to return quickly, no matter how many times she made him swear he would get help if he needed it.
It takes her a second to place the faint smell drifting from a couple of plastic bags slumped by the flat's door, but when the metallic scent of blood registers, Nile panics. The flat is silent and still, and she's immediately pulled to the sight of Booker's broad back slumped on the bed.
"Book, what happe—oh, shit!"
A scrunched up little face watches her from the bed, unfocused and unaware that Nile held herself on her feet by sheer adrenaline.
"Shit, fuckin—Book!"
He doesn't quite notice her despite her bruising grip shaking his shoulder, attention drifting to the squirming baby beside him. Nile's stomach sinks at the softness with which he places his big hand over the baby's little belly, motion soothing and gentle. His mouth curving in a little smile looks out of place with the deep shadows under his eyes, the days old stubble covering his cheeks; he smells of exhaustion.
"Book?" She can't keep the waver out of her voice, and that seems to do the trick.
Slowly, slowly, he turns his head and smiles. "Hey," he sighs, voice small, face falling, "Please, don't cry."
"I'm not," she says, sniffling a little, running her hand through his greasy hair. "You agreed, Book. I left because you agreed you'd go to the hospital if you felt something. Why?"
“They would see,” he mumbles, eyes drifting closed at her touch, “Couldn’t let them.”
Rationally, Nile knows the risks of him having birth at a hospital, at someone seeing their abilities when he was alone and vulnerable; he would’ve survived it either way. The baby, on the other hand, wouldn’t have had the same luck had anything happened.
“You put the baby at risk.” Her voice comes out harder than she meant, and he recoils. Nile does her best to tamp down the panic bubbling up her chest. Standing up, she props him into a sitting position. “C’mon, we can deal with it once we sort out this mess first.”
"She can't be alone," he whispers, eyes vacant and lost now she pulled him away from the cocoon he'd entrenched himself for the last few days. "She's too small, she can't be alone."
"She won't be, I promise," Nile answers, doing her best to keep her voice steady, but she's one second away from spiralling. He still smells like blood. "I'll just pop you in the shower and then I'll go fetch her, alright? She'll be right where you can see her all the while."
Booker fixes her an indecipherable look, but nods in acquiescence, sagging a little more against her. She maneuvers his considerable weight into the shower, leaving him standing under the tepid spray. Hurrying back into the room, she finds the baby exactly how she left her, gurgling a little and completely oblivious to the rampant anxiety racking through Nile's body. She's pink and round-cheeked, with nothing about her that should set her apart from all the other babies Nile has seen in her life, and yet immediately she feels… something. A warmth coiling around her ribs, an intense desire to protect, to cherish. This is family, she knows from the first sight.
Her weight on her arms feels right, the little squirming bundle swaddled in the starry blanket molding itself perfectly against her chest. Oh, Nile thinks, running a fingertip along a chubby cheek, she's so fucked.
She goes back to the bathroom, sitting down on the closed toilet. Booker peeks a look at them, already a little more present and aware, only to suck in a strangled breath at whatever is it that he sees; pressing his lips, he goes back to washing his hair. Nile can't help but watch him, and how little his body gave away about what it just went through: apart from a little flush and swelling around his nipples, he looks just the same, even though she only caught a glimpse of him pre bump—it was hard to focus on anything else except his exposed guts at the moment. Still, the sight of him naked and wet, soft cock resting placid between his thighs, make her lower belly tighten, and at the same time she feels guilty.
His voice accusing her of being there on some misguided alpha instinct to defend the vulnerable omega echoes through her head as she fixes him something to eat, which he accepts one-handed while balancing the baby latched at his chest with the other.
"Careful not to slip."
"Uh?" she asks, blinking up at him from her food.
"You're about to drool a puddle on the floor," he says, his smile barely a quirk, directed at his food, "alpha."
Nile shudders, the tone of his voice along with the sight making her head spin and she recoils. What is going on with her? "I'm sorry," she says, "I didn't mean to—fuck, I'm so sorry—"
"It's ok, I'm just teasing," he says, eyes fond. "I know you're not like that."
The day slips by between caring for the baby and Booker. He loses focus more than a few times, voice trailing off in the middle of a sentence; other times Nile sees him staring at the baby looking lost. He doesn’t slip once while taking care of her, knowing when she needed something a second before she made a single sound of protest, but still the dazed look comes back once she settles, as if she were a puzzle piece he couldn’t quite find the fit. The entire situation left Nile restless, and she didn’t even know exactly why.
At night, she makes no comment when he settles on the bed with the baby, even if her skin itches to come closer; instead, she pulls a blanket and a pillow down to the floor, out of the way but within reach if he needs help.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting ready to sleep?”
Booker frowns. “Why are you on the floor then?”
“We won’t all fit on the bed.” His eyebrows furrow further. “It’s no bother, really.”
Sighing, Booker sits cradling the baby to his chest. “Don’t be silly, of course we all fit. Come up here,” he says, patting the mattress by his side. Nile hesitates, a protest sharp at the tip of her tongue. “I know I teased you about…” he continues, closing his eyes, looking so tired. “About your alpha instincts and all that but… It would make me feel better, I think. Hypocrite, I know.”
“Book…”
“Please.”
Later, with an arm thrown over Booker’s middle, his breath warm and constant against her temple, Nile watches the baby secure and fast asleep over his chest, and thinks she’s very, very fucked.
____________________________
Oh we're getting closer to a resolution, but this is definitely quite long already lmao.
Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (6/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-05 01:30 am (UTC)Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (6/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-05 04:36 am (UTC)He's totally thinking he wants Nile's babies, right? XD
happy to see an update on this author! a much needed bright spot in today
Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (6/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-12 03:55 am (UTC)Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (6/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-05 03:21 pm (UTC)Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (6/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-08 06:20 pm (UTC)Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (7/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-15 04:03 am (UTC)“We need to talk.”
She doesn’t want to. Nile wants to pretend whatever he has to say won’t break what they have right now, just a little longer.
“For as long as I live—and that’s probably going to be quite a long time still—I won’t be able to repay what you did for me. For us,” he says, the words measured as if he’s been sitting on them for quite some time. “I need to ask you one more thing from you.”
“I’m not going to like it, am I?” Nile says, pulling the chair to sit in front of him.
Booker chuckles weakly. “No, I guess…” He takes a deep breath, looking down at the wide awake baby squirming in his lap. “I need help finding her a good family—Nile, please, just… Just listen.” A thousand protests claw up her throat, the mere thought sending a jolt of fury down her spine. It’s only the desperation in his voice, so like that day in the cave, that stops her from exploding, her fists bloodless. “She deserves a normal life,” he pleads, “Parents who can love her like she deserves, who can give her everything they have and not make her resent them. I can’t be that for her.”
“You’re protecting yourself then?” she bites off, unable to hold it in. “You’re giving her away because you’re scared of her hating you like your son did?”
“I’m not doing this for me!” he hisses. “I’m doing this to protect her, to keep her safe from the fact that at some point I’ll fuck it up and hurt her too.” Booker sags, curling himself over the baby. “I don’t trust myself to make the best decision, to find the best possible home for her, and that’s why I’m asking for your help. She’s not yours, Nile,” he says, and he might as well have shot her in the chest, “It’s not your decision to make.”
The call to Copley is tense, and when she comes back to the flat it seems like all the warmth, all they shared these past months is gone. At night she makes no mention of climbing in the bed, nor does he asks her to. The baby fusses for hours, disturbed by the sudden change in her routine; every whimper feels like a blade twisting in her guts. Booker doesn’t ask for her help once.
It takes Copley three days to give them an answer. Nile can see through his mask when he arrives at the flat to take the baby, how much he wants to ask; he doesn’t, and for that she’s grateful. He doesn’t mention the things she asked of him either, exactly as requested: that he find a family, a temporary family, to take care of a newborn. She can’t give up hope just yet, for her own sanity’s sake.
“Anything you want me to pass on?” he asks while Booker fiddles with the baby carrier. The starry blanket has been tucked and retucked more times than Nile can count—she knows fidgeting when she sees it.
“No, she’s very easy-going,” he whispers.
Nile crosses her arms tight around her chest as she watches him pass the carrier to Copley, fighting the urge to just snatch it away once and for all, to put an end to this charade. She doesn’t.
“Her name,” Booker interjects when Copley turns to the door. His eyes flicker towards the carrier, a deep breath shaking his shoulders. “Alexandria. Her name is Alexandria.”
Copley nods after a pause, and Nile follows him outside, fleeing the sight of Booker sitting in the rumpled bed. The baby—Alexandria, she corrects, she has a name now—blinks up at her, apparently very content to be swinging around in her carrier, and wholly, blessedly unaware.
“The people you found,” Nile asked, “Are they really trustworthy?”
“They’re actually friends,” Copley answers, carefully walking down the narrow steps. “Couple of children, willing to lend a hand to a friend of mine with no family for a few months. They’ll take care of her.”
“Hmm.”
“I planned to ask, about the circumstances and everything, but,” he says, opening the door of his car, “One look at the both of you made me rethink it fast.”
“It’s… complicated, to say the least.”
“I can see that,” he answers, finally buckling down the carrier. Copley frowns up at the flat’s window. “That he chose one of Andy’s names for the little girl is just another layer…”
“What do you mean?” Nile asks, startled by the comment.
“Alexandria Black. Andy used the name around the EU these last years,” he clarifies.
Nile doesn’t quite hear his goodbyes, entirely aware of what feels like a thread tied to her ribs being stretched beyond reason as she watches Copley drive away, the pain sharp and insistent. When she enters the flat again, she sees Booker exactly how she left him, curled in on himself in his shitty bed. She has no idea what to say, or do, only that the grief feels much like the one of letting go of her family.
“You don’t need to stay anymore,” she hears him mumble, before scrubbing his hands over his face and raising his head to look at her with red-rimmed eyes. “As I said, I’m very grateful for everything, but you should get back to your life now.”
“Are you sending me away for my own good too?” she asks. “I’m not a child, Booker, I can very well make my own decisions without your self-pity coming into it.”
“It’s not self-pit—”
“How is it not?” she half shouts. “You push people away, and you’d rather tell yourself you’re doing it for their sake but it’s you who can’t deal with things as they are. It’s—” Nile swallows around the knot in her throat. “It’s unfair.”
“Most things are.”
Nile chuckles ruefully. “If you don’t want me here anymore, just tell me, but don’t pretend you’re doing it for me.”
Booker frowns at the window, shaking his head, and for a moment she feels a little hope. “I would prefer if you left,” he says, still not looking at her, and her hope shatters.
Much of the following weeks, slowly turning into months, blurred together so badly she could hardly remember anything about them. There’s one follow up on the human trafficking op, and many empty days in which she knows she’s probably worrying the others; Andy looked at her as if she wanted to ask the first days, before deciding against, so it obviously fell to Joe and Nicky.
“This is a beautiful scarf.”
Nile hums when Nicky sits beside her, the silk smooth and cold between her fingers. On a sleepless night after she came back, she briefly fantasized about burning it; she couldn’t make herself do it.
“Nile,” Nicky says, slowly and so carefully it already makes her feel a little guilty. “Whatever is it you’re going through, you can tell us. Even if…” He stops, considering. “Even if you think we won’t quite approve.”
“I just…I miss my family,” she says, and it doesn’t feel like a lie. The ache of missing her mom, her little brother, along with this new one… It was unbearable. He doesn’t ply for more, and she doesn’t offer. She could mention that she’s dreaming more than usual lately, of darkness and loneliness, but she doesn’t do that either; the memory of the pain in their faces that one time makes her sure she will do her best to just endure it, if only to not cause them any more pointless pain.
Until one night she doesn’t dream of darkness.
There’s light, too much of it, too bright and white to be anything but artificial. There’s cold, sterile air (there’s air! she thinks a thought not her own), shackles around her wrists and feet. And there’s someone else.
There’s Booker.
And Nile wakes with a gasp.
________________________
And it's a cliffhanger! I'm sorry, this one took some time because I was dreading to write it lmao. I'm also sorry for the angst on the kinkmeme, and AGAIN I promise we're very close to getting a happy ending (probably in the shape of like three epilogues).
The name Alexandria Black was in an ID in Copley's wall in the movie, so yeah, it's one of Andy's names.
Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (7/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-15 04:28 am (UTC)Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (7/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-15 05:03 am (UTC)anyways, even with the angst, i'm excited to see what happens next!
Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (7/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-15 06:20 am (UTC)Can’t wait to see where this goes next :)
Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (8/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-20 02:20 am (UTC)Booker looks at her slowly, eyes flickering first at the door in case anyone comes barging in to interrupt their talk. It happened three times, ever since they found a language both knew but that wouldn't be too easy to eavesdrop. Booker did his best to explain cameras and microphones, but there were limits to the dead language Andromache had taught him more than a century ago in a fit of boredom, and which currently only about the five of them spoke. Quỳnh didn't mind. She got the gist of what he meant.
"What do you mean?"
"That they haven't even figured out you have been pregnant recently enough you're still nursing," Quỳnh says, watching as Booker flinches. "How long has it been? I can smell it in you, but you haven't filled enough to drip, so six months? Eight?"
"Three," he whispers, hand drifting to his lower belly. He catches her question before she asks it. "She's… she's not with me anymore."
"Is she with your alpha?" Booker stares at her wide-eyed, and Quỳnh frowns. "What? We have nothing to do until the change of shifts, might as well talk about what I missed."
"I don't have an alpha."
Quỳnh snorts. "Of course you do. Sure, it's not a full bond, but it's halfway there." She looks him over, all color fleeing his face. "You said it yourself, the things they were giving you were supposed to induce your heat, but weren't working for some reason. The reason is you have an incomplete bond, and you won't go into heat unless your alpha is present."
"Putain de merde…"
"Why did you think they didn't try it on me?" she asked, getting ready to pounce on the person who would come through the door at any moment. "My bond is perceptible to anyone, it would've been useless."
"I was thinking along the lines that nothing they gave you managed to keep you down for longer than a handful of heartbeats." Quỳnh grins, and the door opens. Their escape plan is in motion.
The man fights like a raging bull, muscling through doors and guards by brute force; when his lack of precision fails, he makes it up with improvisation, and sheer strength. It’s effective, Quỳnh can’t deny him that, but she also sees the gaps left by his inexperience, his youth—even if his body looks older than hers, he’s still a child at this game—and the absence of a firmer hand steering him through the movements, to hone his skills into perfect sharpness. She can see a little of Andromache in a feint, Yusuf and Nicolò in a roll, and yet most of it seems to be only Sebastièn himself.
A fight is a fight, and Quỳnh has seen enough of the world already that even the obvious changes have little power to bother her. A weapon is a weapon, she thinks, pressing the trigger in her gun and watching another man fall down with a spray of blood, and all men still bleed the same. It’s easy to fall into step with Booker when he’s all she’s seen for so long.
“Ferma!”
Nicolò’s voice means Yusuf isn’t far behind, and she sees them, wide-eyed and alert, as Booker sags in relief a few steps ahead of her after a bend in the corridor. They quickly take stock of the situation, of their bare feet trailing their own blood through glass shards, and other’s blood staining their flimsy clothes. Her heart swells at the sight of them, still unchanged, still the same.
“Andy and Nile went up to destroy their databases,” Yusuf says, beckoning them to follow Nicolò. Quỳnh sees Booker try to take the rear, a little further behind, just to be promptly pushed back to the middle by Yusuf. “And get the doctor, so she can’t try this shit again.”
“What about cloud stored info?” Booker asks.
“Copley is taking care of that,” Nicolò answers, “Our part was just the physical data and rescue. We have some five minutes before it all blows up.”
So little of what they say makes sense that tuning them out isn’t an issue, and Quỳnh lets herself be lulled by the rhythm of fighting and moving in group as one. When her Andromache joins them, followed closely by the new one, Quỳnh almost forgets where she is, and that there’s people after their blood; how could any of it matters when she can finally feel her beloved’s skin under her hands, the smell of her in the middle of a fight? None of that should matter, if only a scratch along Andromache’s cheek weren’t still sluggishly bleeding, when it should have closed as fast as it opened. As it were, she lets the new one urge them ahead, and in doing so she catches the look she shares with Booker over Andromache’s shoulder. She would know what it meant even without the dreams to tell her, even without the longing she heard in Sebastièn’s voice.
There’s a crack, loud and deep as thunder, and she feels the building shudder. They move through more stairs than she ever saw at once, down and down without stopping, even though there are many attempts at stopping them. Quỳnh finds herself shielding Andromache to mirror the others, vowing to herself that she won’t lose her right not, not when she just got her back. The new one, Nile—Booker’s alpha, whether he realises it or not—takes the lead as naturally as breathing, though she does stop once to berate Andromache back into shelter. Nicolò’s little smile makes it seem like an usual debate.
Andromache and Nile usher them into the back of a… transport, she guesses, while Nicolò and Yusuf take the front. Booker sags down to the floor even before it starts moving, rumbling loudly and madly out of their prison, leaving Andromache to step over the sprawl of his long legs, but not without tousling his hair gently.
“Hello, love,” Quỳnh says once the silence stretches on too long after Andromache crouches down in front of her. The hands cupping her cheeks, the back of her neck, are still the same. The smell of her lover after a fight was still the same. The tears on her cheeks are not just her own, and there are no more words between them while they make their escape.
Quỳnh loses track of time as they speed away, lulled to comfort by Andromache’s touch. It’s only when a sharp turn jolts them violently that she looks at the two other occupants of the strange carriage’s back. There’s a stiffness around them, with Booker still slumped on the floor and Nile standing as still as she can with a hand firmly clenched around a rail, the hurt drifting out of her in palpable waves, but the longing… They were evenly matched on that.
“Nile…” Quỳnh hears Booker whisper, a bitten off plea.
Nile’s jaw jumps, eyes shining, and she holds out for a second, two. She folds down like a puppet with its strings cut.
“You stupid, emotionally constipated asshole, you—”
Booker chuckles wetly against her forehead, cradling her in his lap. His hands hesitate up until she buries her face on the crook of his neck, sniffling; he hugs her tightly to his chest, muttering choked off apologies for something Quỳnh knows not. In the end, she doesn’t think it matters much.
__________________________
We're very, very close! I think we have one part story and... three epilogues, of sorts... It's a bit dumb, three epilogues, but it's what they are, so?
Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (8/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-20 03:59 am (UTC)I am also 100% here for three epilogues.
Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (8/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-20 07:42 am (UTC)Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (8/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-20 08:07 pm (UTC)Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (8/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-20 10:10 pm (UTC)Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (9/12) Cont.
Date: 2020-12-08 01:23 am (UTC)Booker is silent, keeping to himself as if he half expects to be asked to leave at any moment. It made sense for them to try their own escape plan, she thinks, if he thought they were by themselves. She's too tired to think more deeply about it, and ready to just push it off at least until she's slept for three entire days.
"So, where's your baby?"
Can't catch a fucking break, Nile thought, swallowing back a groan at Quỳnh's question. She feels Booker stiffening beside her, the weight of the confusion from the others. They haven't even showered yet, for God’s sake.
"I can see this is your alpha—would be hard not to see it actually—but I don't think this place is adequate for young babies," she continued, throwing an unimpressed glance around the old building.
"Love, what are you talking about?" Andy asked, frowning between Quỳnh and Booker's pale face.
"Don't tell me you can't smell it on them? Andromache, that's disappointing."
"I don't—"Andy stopped sharply, turning to them with a hiss. "The lab?" Booker nodded.
"Can someone explain what the fuck is going on," Joe cut through Andy's colorful swearing, at the end of his patience, "From the beginning, and with actual words?"
It's not a talk they should be having still dressed in combat clothes, smelling of sweat and smoke. She doesn't contribute much except to confirm her… participation, so to speak, in helping Booker hide his pregnancy; Nicky's disappointed look makes her feel young, and foolish. It feels like her mom's one time she escaped to go to a party she shouldn't, and how that wasn't how families solved things. For a moment she considered snapping, saying she wasn't the only one hiding things, and look how different Andy already looked after having Quỳnh back for a few hours? How much was she keeping inside and not talking about it either? It isn't fair, she knows it, and not at all how she was raised. She takes the disappointment in silence.
They don't comment on Quỳnh calling her Booker's alpha, not after having the rest of the story laid out before them.
"And the baby," Andy asks, "Is she really safe?"
"Alexandria," Nile says, raising her eyes at Andy, begging her to understand. "That's her name, and yes, she's safe."
Andy sucks in a sharp breath, looking stricken, and Nile sees it reflected in Joe and Nicky as they catch up. This is enough for now, she thinks, I can't think about her right now too and don't break down. She feels a hand in hers, big and still sticky with blood. "Can we continue this another time?" Booker asks. "Please," he adds when Andy makes to push for more.
Her jaw clenches as if she wants to keep up either way, until Quỳnh touches her shoulder and gives her a look. Nile sags in relief when they disband to clean up.
"Nile, what are you doing up?"
She doesn't have an answer, really, for why she's by his bed in the middle of the night, while by all means she should be sleeping like the dead. "Too much on my head, I guess," she shrugs, and she knows he knows it’s a lie the moment the words come out. She lets him pull her in, until they’re laying side by side just like before, only this time they don’t have to make space for a baby.
Nile finds out she actually misses it.
She sniffles.
“C’mon, tell me,” Booker says, very softly. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be the emotionally constipated idiot here,” he prods, running his fingers over her shoulders.
“Last week it’s been a year since I died,” she says. His hand stills, before he pulls her tighter against him. “Just the day before I dreamt of you and Quỳnh, actually. I miss them so much,” she sobs, “So much, and I was scared for you, and I missed Alexandria too—I know she’s not mine, but I missed her like a limb—and I wish I could just ask my mom what should I do, but I can’t—” He holds her until her tears run dry, the scent of him and his warmth slowly easing at least one of her worries.
“A very wise person told me once,” he says, nuzzling her temple, “That we should take it one day at a day, and see where that goes. I don’t think I’ve been very good at that, but it seems like a solid idea.”
He chuckles a little at her glare, a little teary himself. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I regretted those words the moment they left my mouth, and I can only hope one day I’ll be able to make amends for them… I know my words don’t mean much right now, but I’m here for you, just like they are too if you let them. I’m here for you like you were for me.” He trails off, looking out to the dark room, and she knows what he’s thinking.
“Do you regret sending her away too?”
Booker looks back at her, biting his lip. “I want her,” he murmurs, “So much. I trust that she’s safe, and I hope that she’s loved, but I wish…”
“You can,” she says, and his eyes snap to her. “The family Copley found was temporary. I wasn’t sure what I’d do later, but I knew I couldn’t just… send her off forever like that. She’s family—their family too, whether you thought about it or not.” He just stares at her, dumbstruck and wide-eyed, until she squirms. “Just say something.”
He kisses her, deep and desperate, until she’s clutching at his shoulders. She thinks they’re both crying, and fuck if it isn’t a bit ridiculous, but it feels right. It feels good. She doesn’t know where this will lead, much less what will be decided when the morning comes and they have to deal with the fallout again. It’s like someone (a wise someone, he repeats) said. One day at a time.
_____________________________
Hey there, we finally have more of this! This is just uhhh a tearful reunion, and as promised we're getting three epilogues dealing with what happened next. We're finally getting Booker's perspective in two of them! Thanks to all your comments, and wish me luck on an important thing I have in two days!
Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (9/12) Cont.
Date: 2020-12-08 03:35 am (UTC)Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (9/12) Cont.
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2020-12-08 07:08 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (9/12) Cont.
Date: 2020-12-08 06:47 am (UTC)Best of luck on your important thing!!
Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (9/12) Cont.
Date: 2020-12-08 08:05 am (UTC)Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (9/12) Cont.
Date: 2020-12-08 03:44 pm (UTC)Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (10/12) Cont.
Date: 2020-12-27 09:21 pm (UTC)Things turned downwards once Nile left, and he couldn’t help but think how much her mere presence was working as the one thing pulling him through the fog, incomplete bond or not. He debated with himself, on respecting the decision they reached to take things slow, but it became increasingly hard when, besides her, the only other person he actually interacted with couldn’t even sit on her own yet. He thought of the others, and the distance that had still been there even after everything, and he couldn’t…
He lasted a whole two weeks.
“Call Nile,” Andy said the second she picked up, “Or I’ll have to tie her up and drop her at your doorstep.”
“What?” Maybe calling Andy had been a mistake after all. She told him to if he needed, and by now he really needed it, but still.
“It’s a new bond, Book, you know how this shit works,” she hissed. “I explained to her she wouldn’t feel right being away this much, without even hearing or seeing you for weeks on end, but she’s got this stupid idea on her head about taking things slow. Apparently, you do too, since you’re calling me instead of her.”
“It’s what we agreed—”
“It doesn’t matter. Call her.” And she hung up, leaving him to glare at the phone, only to sigh and scroll down to Nile's number. That night he finally managed to sleep along with Lele, his phone warm from an hour long video call, and judging by the smudged shadows under her eyes, he hadn't been the only one missing sleep.
Nile ended up visiting every few weeks, to the point that even when she wasn’t there he could still smell her: by Lele’s crib, on the sofa they curled up to laze about, on their bed. It made him itch for a little more, just a little. He thought he could see the want in her too sometimes, in the way she looked at him the first time he attempted to help her twist her hair, or in the way her teeth always seemed to find the back of his neck when they fucked. She never acted on it, and he followed her lead, as he would until she felt ready (if she ever felt ready, his traitorous mind supplied once he was by himself again.)
After Lele’s first birthday, Andy and Quỳnh became yet another presence at their little house, ruining his piss poor attempts at keeping any semblance of order. It was strange to even think about these two relics in the same context as colorful cartoons and mashed fruits, but they fit right in. Quỳnh had adapted more quickly to the modern world than Andy ever did, despite missing the actual development of it, and she was more than happy to forget their no pictures rule in favor of snapping a dozen photos of Lele every hour.
They helped fill in the empty space in his chest that not even Nile could, a bond older than her. If there were still pieces missing, it was nobody’s fault but his. If it took him a few visits to notice they seemed to coincide with some of the most bloody jobs, nobody could judge him. He asked Nile about it.
"I must be the one doing a poor job if this is what you're thinking of while I'm going down on you."
He chuckled at her disgruntled look. "I don't know, you might have room for improvement—" He watched her as she came back to bed with lube and a vibrator. "Actually scratch that, you're on your peak performance, award worthy." She slicked his cock, to make up for the fact that she doesn't get wet enough for it to be comfortable, but the vibrator didn't receive the same treatment: the mere thought of her lately was enough to get him wet lately, and right now he was sure he was already soaking the sheets. She didn't tease, pushing it inside him in a single slide, and he clenched around the toy, his cock jumping, smearing his belly under Nile's hungry eyes. It takes all his self control to keep his hands on the headboard like she challenged him to, his fingers itching to replace hers around the base of her cock.
She teased herself, sliding their cocks together, before sliding him inside. All thoughts of Andy vanished as she rode him, the vibrations of the toy, the sticky trail left by her cock on his stomach and the tight squeeze around his own cock sending his mind to a buzz. The headboard groaned under his grip, her fingers digging into his chest. At the first spurts of her cock, his resolve failed, hands flying to stroke her through her first orgasm. She shuddered, slowing down to catch her breath, and he didn't miss the smirk at winning their little game, before she dug her knees in place and started it all again.
Afterwards, when the vibrator laid discarded on the floor and the window wide open to cool them off, she turned to him, a little sheepish, and confirmed that it was Quỳnh's idea. He didn't mind as much as he agreed. Keeping Andy safe would be a full time job, and he was more than happy to do his part.
The first time they asked him to join in a job was a little over six months later, because it called for a little demolition. His protests that Nicky could do it were silenced by the need for a sniper too, and that he wouldn't need to worry because Andy, said Nile in a very suggestive tone, had volunteered to babysit. He understood then what they were truly asking, and agreed despite his own apprehension. Nile noticed the real reasons for it quickly enough, and they had nothing to do with lack of confidence in Andy's abilities, as Quỳnh tried to tease him about; it was the first time he’d been away from her ever since he got her back, and even though the adrenaline, the blood pumping fast through his veins in the practised motions of the team work, made him feel exhilarated, he missed her more. When he returned, they’d redecorated most of the living room, the walls drawn on all over with animals and shapes, and Booker had to sit for a minute to think that maybe, maybe he could have both.
Joe and Nicky were the last missing pieces by the time Lele’s second birthday came around. They were cordial during missions, even babysat her once when he went on a mission of Nile's choosing, but the distance he put between them was still there, the proof of how lost he had been. At the party, after gifts had been opened, most of the food eaten, Booker allowed himself to just watch the others from the porch and catch his breath, and that was when Joe took his chance, coming to sit beside him.
“I kept thinking why you would try to give this up,” Joe said, after a beat. “Where did we get it so wrong with you that you never trusted us enough with this side of yourself—”
“You didn’t,” he rushed to answer, “It was never anything you did or didn’t do.” He sighed and pushed on. “The first decades after I joined you, after my son died, every kindness felt like pity and I couldn’t bear it. I know it was never how you meant it, that you and Nicky and Andy never had any intention other than making me feel welcome. I’m sorry, Joe,” he said, “I know you don’t owe me forgiveness, but I can only hope one day I’m able to deserve your trust again.”
Joe smiled, shaking his head. “You know, that sounds too emotionally smart to be the Booker I know.”
Booker laughed. “I, I’ve got a therapist,” he said, “Apparently I have too much unprocessed grief that led to self destructive habits like substance abuse and suicide ideation. I’m… trying to work through it.”
“Nile’s work?”
“No, I wouldn’t expect that of her,” he said, looking at Nile and Lele sharing yet another piece of cake. It was a good thing there were five other people in the house tonight to entertain a toddler on a sugar high. “I just can’t let my shit hurt anyone else again. It’s my mess to clean up…”
“You’re right in saying I don’t owe you forgiveness,” Joe said, “And I don’t know when I’ll feel confident with trusting you fully again but… you’re family, and so is the little imp over there. We’re here for the two of you, even if it means I’ll feel the urge to check my back once in a while.” Joe pulled him to his side, burying his face against the side of his head. He always took comfort like this, by touching them, breathing them in. That he still wanted to do it him meant more than any word. “Shithead.”
Booker laughed, and it came out more than a little tearful. “Am I getting Nicky’s disappointment later too?”
“You can bet on that. Also we have a bet running on when you and Nile will pull your heads out of your asses and complete your bond, and if you make me lose I’ll have to beat you.”
__________________________
It might not have been mentioned in the fic, but here is how I think of the others: Andy and Joe are also alphas, Nicky is a beta and Quỳnh is also an omega.
Also thank you for the luck wishes! Everything went fine and I got the Thing! Now let's see if I can finish this before New Year, two more to go!
Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (10/12) Cont.
Date: 2020-12-27 09:43 pm (UTC)Glad that Booker is tentatively rebuilding his relationship with the team, acknowledging his faults and seeking therapy. And I’m so glad he got his daughter back and started to build a relationship with Nile.
OP
Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (10/12) Cont.
Date: 2020-12-29 07:48 am (UTC)I really love this especially because all of Booker’s issues and his relationships with Nile/the team aren’t magically fixed, but they are working on them!
Also, Lele is such a cute nickname :)
Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (10/12) Cont.
Date: 2021-03-08 12:56 pm (UTC)Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (6/?) Cont.
Date: 2021-11-13 01:35 am (UTC)Re: Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (6/?) Cont.
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2022-02-02 12:09 pm (UTC) - Expand