Among the Strong
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marysuevirusTitle: Among the Strong
Chapter Seventeen: Possibilities
Fandom: the Marvel universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic violence, language, sex, dark themes, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. Haley belongs todazzledfirestar Morgan belongs toginevra Roxxy belongs tonanaeanaven Jehnna belongs to silverfox_chan and Dare belongs to me. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from dazzledfirestar .
Author's Notes: this is almost entirely Daz's fault. okay. so it really isn't. its actually almost 100% my fault. Daz just did a whole lot of encouraging. this fic is going to be kind of dark, so please keep that in mind while reading.
Among the Strong - the index
Jehnna watched Sam as he thumbed through the albums on the shelf to find something slow and easy to which they could dance. Dancing had become their favorite way to pass the time since trips to the gym had been cut from their schedules. The excuse had been that such vigorous activity might promote miscarriages. To be honest, Jehnna didn't miss the gym much. She knew Sam did simply because he hated being idle.
She'd been the one to suggest dancing as a way around it. And she'd taught him the dances she knew, just as he'd taught her the ones he knew. Most of the time, they didn't do anything fancy. They usually just swayed to the music while clinging to one another. She was starting to forget what it was like to be around other people. It had been just the two of them in this room for so long now. And they didn't even have the daily trips to the lab to break up the monotony anymore. She supposed it was stupid to make them perform when she was completely and absolutely pregnant.
As if trailing after her thoughts, the baby in her belly kicked at just that moment. It was a faint kick, but it told her the little one was not happy with her inactivity. She'd found that the baby seemed to like it when she and Sam danced. Which suggested to her that their child liked to be as busy as her father.
For a moment, all of it overwhelmed her again. A baby that wasn't Warren's. A baby that she was never going to be able to hold or kiss or rock to sleep when she got fussy. This whole situation was seriously fucked up. It had been from day one. And now, months into their captivity, it was even more seriously fucked up than it had been. Because she was madly in love with Sam Guthrie. And she was having his baby in order for Sinister to give it to Apocalypse. While she was still married to Warren.
She wished, for a moment, that such events had never happened. It was an old wish, one she kept tucked away in her heart. Because she knew, upon going home, it was going to be hard to pick. How did she choose between Warren, her first love, and Sam, who treated her like she was the only woman in the world? How did she make a decision between either one of them? She wasn't sure she was going to be able to do that.
"Jehnna? Sweetheart?" Sam's voice cut across her musings, pulling her away from her thoughts. He looked vaguely concerned so she gave him a bright smile. It was one meant to reassure him. He'd been like this ever since she'd come back from that first prenatal visit with Sinister. His words, not hers. She couldn't recall what happened, so she didn't know if it had or hadn't been a prenatal visit. But the fact that she couldn't remember the visit, combined with the fact that Sam said the goblins had returned her to their room unconscious, meant he was always a little worried when she slipped into her thoughts. "Everything okay?"
"Right as rain, Sam," she replied, putting some cheer into the words. He gave her a skeptical look, but didn't push the issue. That's when she noticed that there was music playing softly in the background. After a moment, her smile softened. She did like Nat King Cole, and 'Unforgettable' was one of his best.
"Shall we dance, then?" he questioned, holding his hands out to her. Jehnna nodded and took hold of them. He pulled her into him and snuggled her close, then started swaying in time with the music. It was a little awkward with the baby bump in the way, but they'd found a way to make it work. Jehnna put her head on his shoulder, a natural inclination that she just couldn't seem to resist. In return, Sam pressed his cheek against her head and pulled her a little closer. His arms closed more tightly around her, bringing a sigh of pure contentment up her throat.
It felt good in his arms. It felt right. Jehnna was sure she should feel guilty about that, but she didn't. Maybe later, when they got home, she'd let guilt eat her alive again like it had in the beginning. For now, she let herself sink into Sam's strong arms and swayed in time with the music that played softly through the record player's speakers.
His hands were big, fingers spread wide across her back as they moved together. She liked the way they felt, the safety they offered. Not that he could do anything if Sinister tried anything. But he still made her feel safe. It was something he'd done from the very beginning. She'd never questioned it, though maybe she should have. Jehnna had gotten the impression, a time or two, that Sam knew more about her than he let on. Almost as if he'd picked things up long before they'd come to this place.
"You know, Jehnna. I wish things could be different." Sam's voice tugged her away from her thoughts. They were still moving, but she found he'd lifted his head and he was now staring at her. She frowned.
"How do you mean?" she asked.
"I wish that we were making plans for the arrival of our baby," he told her softly. Jehnna blinked up at him, slightly amazed by his statement. "We'd be going around to all those trendy baby places, looking for the perfect furniture. I picture you as wanting the traditional crib, all wood with a deep honey burnish to it. A matching dresser and changing table. And a rocking chair, so you'd be able to rock her back to sleep when she wakes up crying in the middle of the night. As well as nurse her when she gets hungry."
"That is a pretty dream," she said with a sigh.
"Not as pretty as you with sleep-mussed hair, sitting in the rocking chair with our daughter nursing at your breast," he responded readily. Both his voice and his eyes held no small amount of hungry need. Jehnna felt her cheeks heat with equal parts embarrassment and desire.
"Don't tell me you're going to be one of those fathers who leaves it all to me," she responded in an attempt to push away some of the growing hunger.
"Of course not. I'd be there with you every step of the way. When you're too tired to sit with her, I'll do it in your stead. She's our daughter. Of course I'm going to help care for her." There was a touch of indignant disbelief in Sam's voice. He stopped swaying so that he could bring his hands up to brush her hair from her face. So that his fingers could trail over her cheeks. "We're in this together, sweetheart. I'm not going to be one of those dads who doesn't help care for or spend time with his kids."
Her heart melted. Just a little bit. Okay. A whole lot. Not that she'd really thought that Sam would avoid being an involved parent. It was different to hear him say it. To know he meant it. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, which prompted him to turn his face more fully toward hers and take her lips in an answering kiss.
It was long and slow and sweet and deep enough that it curled her toes against the cheap rug that covered the floor.
They broke apart gasping for air. She suspected Sam would have kept the kiss going longer if not for their need to breathe. Jehnna's cheeks were on fire with the growing desire and that same sense of embarrassment. Sam's eyes had darkened with hunger and she could feel the way his fingers trembled against the need to grab her and throw her on the bed. Instead, the two of them stood there and stared at each other while the air around them grew heavier with their combined need for one another.
She couldn't say how long it had been since they'd stopped moving and started staring. Apparently, where the baby was concerned, it was far too long. She gave a sharp, pointed kick that actually brought a little bit of pain. Jehnna gasped, one hand moving to cover the spot where that tiny foot had connected. Concern replaced the need on Sam's face immediately, and he was steering her toward the love seat before she could even say a word.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked as he settled her on the cushions. Jehnna offered him a smile to quell his concern.
"Its nothing, Sam. She just kicked harder than she has before and it took me by surprise," Jehnna replied.
His hand went immediately to her belly and settled on it. After a moment or two, the baby kicked again. And Sam's hand moved to where that kick had happened. It became a game of chase, with Sam's hand moving to each new kick location. The baby seemed to be aware it was a game, because her foot kicked on one side, then the other, then at the top before moving to the bottom. Joy, absolute and pure, masked Sam's face as he followed those little kicks around. "She's going to be a speedster," he said quietly. With no small amount of awe in his voice. "Just like her Pa."
His words were like a knife to the heart. Because Jehnna knew what was coming, had mostly come to terms with it. She knew he knew what was coming. And it pained her to know that they'd never get to see their daughter grow up. They'd never know if she was going to be a speedster or not.
The baby seemed to have an opinion on the matter, too. She kicked again, right in the very center of Jehnna's belly. And she kicked hard. Hard enough that they both saw the imprint of her tiny foot in Jehnna's flesh. Hard enough to draw another gasp up Jehnna's throat. Sam's hand moved immediately to the spot where that foot had made contact and settled over it. "Hey, now, baby girl. You best be nice and take it easy on your Ma. Its not nice to kick people."
Sam sounded so serious. He looked so serious. Jehnna couldn't help the tears that came then. Because she only had a few more months of getting to see Sam be a father. And he was so good at it. Her heart was breaking because she wouldn't get to see it again after they returned home.
"Come on, Jehnna. No tears. There's no reason to be sad," Sam said, his thumbs gently wiping the tears away.
"I'm sorry," she replied, letting her eyes lift to his. "I can't help it. You're going to be such a great father. But he's going to take our baby and..."
Jehnna found herself back in his arms. Sam hugged her tightly, one hand stroking the length of her hair with slow motions. "That's no reason to cry, Jehnna. There'll be an opportunity for other babies. I know its hard not to think of what's going to happen when she's born." With those words, one hand was pressed up against her belly again. "But you shouldn't let it be a burden. You should take joy in the life you created. Because you made a miracle. Our baby is a miracle, no matter what happens. And knowing I helped you make her brings me such a sense of peace and happiness."
"But..." The protest came out automatically. The soft smile Sam gave Jehnna brought whatever she might have said to a halt. She didn't miss the faint touch of sadness in his eyes, though, and it prompted her to go on. "What about you, Sam? You can't honestly be okay with everything? It has to hurt knowing that you'll never get to be her father once she's born."
"Of course it hurts, Jehnna. I've always wanted to be a father and have lots of children. And that can still happen. There's no knowing what the future holds for any of us," Sam told her, his voice soft against the music playing in the background. "And Sinister taking our baby to give to Apocalypse doesn't erase the fact that I'm her father. I will always be her father. Nothing will change that. Just like you'll always be her mother."
For a moment, Jehnna was at a loss for words. How was Sam so upbeat and positive about all this? How could he sit there, knowing what kind of future was in store for their child, and find a way to be positive about it? She didn't know if she could do it. She was pretty sure she would live with guilt over it all for the rest of her life. Her other kids might help keep that guilt at a distance. But Sam didn't have that option. And Sam deserved to have that option.
Hell, he deserved to not suffer with guilt. He deserved to be a father to as many children as he could stand. She could see that he'd be a good father. He was, after all, a good human being. It was there in the way he smiled for her. In the way he made sure she wasn't having problems. She'd told him about the difficulties with her last pregnancy and he'd made it his mission to see that this pregnancy ran smoothly. It was there in the way he interacted with her pregnancy. The way he spoke to their child. He would be a good father.
And he deserved to be a father to this baby. Anger and a sense of helplessness wrapped themselves around her. Jehnna hated that his first child would be taken from him before he could even hold her or see her. It wasn't fair to him. She had children she could go home to. Children she could hug and love and touch. Sam would be left with nothing but bittersweet memories. She hated that.
A memory rose up, one that was only a few months old. A memory of the day Sam had confronted her about being pregnant. It was the day she'd admitted to him that she loved him. He'd done the same. It had been his confession that had prompted hers. It had felt awkward and wrong and perfect and right all at the same time.
She supposed, looking back on the past nine months or whatever it had been, that such an event was inevitable. She wondered if it had happened between Warren and Morgan. There was a stab of pain near her heart, but not as strong as she'd expected it to be. She kind of figured she had no room to be mad about the two of them developing feelings for one another. She'd gone and done the same thing with Sam. And maybe that had been part of Sinister's plans all along. Still, she didn't understand how she could love them both. That wasn't something she did. That was something that seemed more like Morgan.
She could remember, when Morgan was a young girl, the way she'd flittered back and forth between the boys at the school. Even some of the teachers. But she'd never stuck with one long enough for it to be anything other than some sex. The only person she'd ever been linked to consistently was Dare. And, to this day, Jehnna wasn't sure what type of relationship the two women had.
All the running around had stopped, though, the moment Remy had taken an interest in Morgan. Jehnna puzzled over that one, too. Because Remy had been going out with Dare and then suddenly Dare was going out with Logan and... Ugh. Thinking about it made her head hurt. She'd never figured out what it was Dare saw in Logan. Truth be told, she didn't think most of the school had ever figured that one out. But she knew that Morgan loved more than one person. Dare, too. Even Roxxy seemed to be capable of loving more than one person. And while she'd never seen Haley in a relationship with more than one man at a time, she had dated plenty of men. So maybe she was capable of loving more than one person, too.
Was there something wrong with Jehnna that loving both Sam and Warren felt like it was tearing her apart? Or was there something wrong with the others that the didn't seem to be able to love just one person? She didn't understand what was going on or why it seemed to be such a difficult thing for her.
"Jehnna?" Sam's voice once again cut into her thoughts, pulling her out of her head and back to reality. The smile she offered him must have looked troubled, because he slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. "Whatever has you frowning like that, sweetheart, must be real serious. Care to lighten the load and share?"
For a moment, she wondered if she should tell Sam about her doubts. She didn't want him to look at her like she was nuts. But she didn't know how to deal with this on her own. Hell, she didn't know if she could deal with this on her own. Maybe Sam would have insight that would help. At this stage in things, it sure as hell couldn't hurt. "If you don't mind?" She looked at him with the question echoing in her eyes.
"Of course not, sweetheart. If I can do anything at all to put a smile back on your face, I'll consider it a privilege." He reached up to stroke her cheek with his fingers. "Now spill it."
Jehnna took a deep breath and collected her thoughts, then she nodded and started talking.
~*~
Jesus Christ. How could every muscle in her body hurt? There were parts of her that hurt that she hadn't even known existed before now. And this coming from someone who had trained with Remy, Logan, and Dare more than once. She'd never gotten muscle cramps before. Not once in each of her pregnancies had she had cramps. And, if she had, they'd been so minute as to be forgettable. Nothing like this.
Fortunately for her, Warren's fingers were there to work at the tenseness in her left calf. She hissed out a breath when he dug into a particularly painful spot. "Sorry, Morgan," he said in response to her obvious discomfort.
"You should be," she snapped back, though there was little heat in her words. She was just tired of being achy all the damn time. The cramps and various pains had started some time in the second trimester. Not long after her visit to Sinister's lab, in fact. A visit that she couldn't remember. She didn't like that she couldn't recall anything. And she knew Warren didn't like it much, either. Not that he'd said anything to that effect. But she could tell anyway. She'd seen it in his eyes a time or two in the days following that visit. In the tension in his shoulders when the door opened.
The moment the first pain had made an appearance, Warren had been there to soothe it away. After so many days of it, she felt like she'd gotten addicted to the nimbleness in his fingers and the way he somehow always managed to work the knots out and ease the pain until it was either gone or tolerable. Somewhere along the line, she'd come to the conclusion that Warren's hands were a heavenly blessing because they were so capable of easing all her pain. But they were also a hellish curse, because she was addicted to them. To the way he massaged her aches away. To the way he used them to bring pleasure. They were good hands. And she was utterly addicted to them.
What happened when they went home? She was fairly certain that Remy wouldn't judge. He was going through this same thing with Dare, wasn't he? For a moment, she considered that. Would things change within the foursome? She was pretty sure that Dare would blame herself and wouldn't be able to look Morgan in the eyes. That was how Dare had been ever since the Professor had brought her to the school. Morgan would have to find a way to make her understand that she didn't hate her. She didn't think Logan would judge anymore than Remy would. He hadn't judged with Creed. Surely he wouldn't judge this time?
But what about Jehnna? Was she going to understand that this was a situation beyond everyone's control? Was she going to hate Morgan for having a baby with Warren? Was she going to have problems with Warren for having sex with someone other than her? Morgan considered the whole mess. She didn't understand why Sinister had paired them off the way he had. The freak obviously thought she was better paired with Warren. The notion meant there was a small part of her that was hurt because Sinister seemed to think that she wasn't good enough for Remy. It weighed on her for a moment or two. Then she nudged it aside as unimportant. What was important was that Remy thought she was good enough for him. He loved her and that was all that mattered.
Her thoughts were put on hold when Warren's fingers found a knot on the bottom of her foot simply by pressing into it. Morgan groaned, some odd mix of pleasure and pain, and tried to pull her foot out of his hold. He refused to let it go and continued working his thumbs against the knot. The more he worked, the less fight she was capable of giving. Eventually, she was limp against the bed while he started his way back up her calf. The smile he gave her when she looked up at him was enough to make her want to hit him. The comment that followed only reinforced the desire. "You're so easy, Morgan."
"Considering I've had muscle cramps for months, I don't think its that hard for anyone to figure it out. Even you," she snapped, though there was only a small amount of heat behind her words. And the possible effect of that heat was killed when his fingers did a thing that drew a very obscene moan up her throat. Morgan shot him a glare. "I'm pretty sure I didn't have muscle cramps during my other pregnancies, but its possible I did and I just never knew. I honestly don't remember dealing with pain this bad before. Its got to be your fault."
Her words saw Warren chuckling softly. He raised her leg so that he could press a tender kiss against the swell of her calf. "Right," he said with a cheeky grin. "There's no way LeBeau would do that to you. It has to be those pesky Worthington genes."
Morgan couldn't hold back the smile that came at that. She still managed to level some kind of moderately dark look his way. "Mhmm. Clearly Jehnna's a saint for doing this four times with you. The pope needs to canonize her. Saint Jehnna. She'd be the saint pregnant women pray to for relief from muscle cramps and cheeky partners."
Her comment made him laugh out loud. And then she let go a grunt that saw him giving her a worried look. Morgan shook her head and smiled at him, then took hold of his hand and settled it on her belly. Just in time for the baby to kick at her again. Warren turned wide eyes her way even though he'd felt the baby kick time and again. Each time it happened, he acted like it was the most miraculous event ever. No lie, she honestly found it cute each and every time he did it.
"She's really active today," Warren commented. Morgan only hummed in agreement, too caught up in watching his hand chase those tiny feet around. His gaze found hers, the wonder in it making her breath catch in her throat. He'd turned that look on her a time or two since the pregnancy had started and she found it endearing every time he did so. She loved how he seemed to startled by the process, despite having gone through it four previous times with Jehnna. It was such an odd dichotomy. Warren Worthington was intelligent, handsome, capable, and smooth. And he was positively childlike in his wonder where their baby was concerned. She loved that about him.
Hell, she just straight up loved him.
It would be a lie to say she hadn't thought about what he'd be like as a father to their child. And it would be a lie to say that she hadn't felt a pang of regret when ever she had that thought. Because she wanted so much to see that face again and again. When their baby was born, When he held her for the first time. When she started walking and the first time she called him Dada. Warren would wear that look so many times with all of their baby's firsts. Except she was destined to go to Apocalypse and become a horseman.
"No melancholy thoughts," Warren said gently. His free hand reached up to cup her cheek. That touch anchored her and brought her back to the here and now. She looked at him to find he was watching her closely, his eyes dark with concern and maybe even a little fear.
"Sorry. I was just saddened that I won't get to see that face again once we leave here," she told him. She'd long ago stopped trying to shift his attention away from the obvious, from the things she didn't want to think or talk about.
"What face?" he asked. His hands slid away so that he could move around to sit at her side on the bed. Morgan took the opportunity to stretch her legs, marveling at how capable he was at relieving the pain. She put a hand on his cheek and let her palm memorize the feel of his skin against hers. Just in case...
"The one that's filled with the same kind of wonder a child gets when they discover something new. Every time you put your hands on my belly and feel the baby kick, you get that same look on your face. And once she's born, that won't happen anymore. Sinister will take her and you'll never have that look on your face again."
"And you're so certain of that?" he asked, his tone suggesting she was wrong.
"Pretty certain, yeah. I can't imagine that we'll stay together when we return home. You've got Jehnna and your kids. I've got Remy and my kids."
"And Dare. And Logan," Warren pointed out. Morgan frowned at that
"Well, yeah. They're my family," she told him. He should know that already. Dare had been family longer than any of them and she knew that the other woman was going to need help getting past this newest mind fuck.
"We're a family now, Morgan," Warren told her. She stared up at him, confused as to why he'd say that. He chuckled at that look before leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. His hand returned to her belly and rubbed a gentle circle there. The baby kicked again, obviously encouraged by his touch. "There's a bond between us now, you know. One that makes us family. That doesn't change just because Sinister plans to take her away. You and I are as much family as you and Dare. There are real emotions involved. Going back doesn't mean things go back to the way they were. We're all going to have to sort things out between us. Come to some kind of new normal."
"So, what? You're suggesting we have a baby when we go home?" She let her skepticism show in her voice. It was probably on her face, too.
"No," he said, then paused. His breath came out on a hard sigh. "Maybe. I don't know. I don't know what the answer is, Morgan. What I do know is we fell in love here. We've shared something terribly intimate. Sinister can't take that from us. Neither one of us knows what will happen when we go home. We'll face that problem when we get there. For now, though, we have this. Our family."
He leaned down to press a kiss to her belly, bringing tears to her eyes. How could she love him so much? Especially when she still loved Remy. And Logan. And Dare. God, Dare was like life's blood at this point. She'd told Remy once that no man could get between her and Dare. She'd been wrong, to some degree. He'd found a way into her heart. So had Logan. And now Warren. But she'd been right, too. Because Dare was her first love. Not the marriage and kids kind of way. She was a love that went past all that. And nothing, no one person, would ever come between them.
But that didn't stop her from loving the others. And it didn't stop her from wondering, even though she knew it meant nothing but heartache, what having Warren in her life all the time would be like. What having his child would be like. "She's going to be as pretty as her mother," Warren said gently. Again, his voice brought her out of her thoughts so that she could give her attention to him. "She's going to be strong and capable. Just like her mother."
Those words saw tears falling. Because she knew they were the absolute truth. And the worst kind of lie. "She's going to have your wild sense of spirit. And she's going to be a headache for both of us," Warren told her.
"She'll have your intelligence," Morgan replied. She shouldn't play this game with him. This game was dangerous and would only lead to heartache. But she couldn't stop herself. She'd imagined a life for the three of them so many times in the past months. "And your smile."
"Just my smile?" he teased. She couldn't help the laugh that came. There was such a look of indignant disbelief on his face.
"Of course not. She'll be a smooth talker, just like you," Morgan added.
Warren's smile grew. "She'll wear those silly, frilly dresses that women seem to love putting on their baby girls. The kind with tights that have more frills on the butt. And a pair of black patent shoes she'll be able to wear for one picture session. Because her mother loves shoes. And we'll even put a little bow in her hair. One that matches her dress."
"What if she doesn't have any hair?" Morgan asked him. God help her, she could picture their daughter, so small and tiny in his arms, wearing a baby pink dress with tons of frills under the skirt.
"Doesn't matter. We'll still put a bow on her head. So everyone knows she's a sweet little girl," he told her before leaning in to steal a kiss from her. That kiss went right to her head, as if Warren was made from the finest wine. His hand rubbed her belly again. "She'll have so many dresses and shoes, she'll give you a run for your money."
"I'm not sure if that's possible," Morgan said, a faint laugh coloring her words. She knew well just how full her closet was. Remy had complained about the number of dresses and pairs of shoes that lived within it.
"Of course its possible. I'm Warren Worthington. I have more money than God." There was a touch of amusement in his words. "The money makes up for my pesky genes."
"Sir, your face and your body make up for your pesky genes," she said, letting one hand slide down his arm in order to map out the muscles there.
"That's so sweet of you to say," he returned, his lips curling up into a satisfied smile.
Morgan gave him a look. "The money is just an added bonus."
"Why you!" Warren got out before his fingers were moving over her sides with all the precision of a drunken fly. The feather-light touches brought laughter to her lips, saw her trying to scoot away from him. But Warren moved so that he had her caged with his arms and his legs. She had nowhere to go even before he locked her thighs between his knees so that his hands were free to tickle at will. Morgan squirmed in an effort to get away from him, but his legs kept her from going far. "Just for that, I won't tell you about the baby furniture we'll get her."
"Warren!" Morgan got out before wheezing laughter rolled out of her throat. His hands felt like they were everywhere and she couldn't get air into her lungs because she was laughing so hard. She tried to grab his wrists, but he was too quick for her. So she went with the next best thing. "Stop before I wet the bed!"
That got his attention and the tickling stopped immediately. It took her several minutes before her breathing leveled out. In that time, Warren had shifted so that he was once more sitting beside her. When Morgan made the effort to sit up, his hands were there to help her into a sitting position. He looked contrite. "I'm sorry. I forgot."
"Just for that, you'll be buying her the most expensive set of baby furniture I can find," Morgan told him.
"Its no less than I deserve," he agreed. Warren slipped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. She snuggled into the warmth of his body and rested her head against his chest. His lips pressed a kiss to the top of her head before he went on. "Our little princess deserves the very best."
The absolute seriousness in his voice brought a lump to her throat. "Warren..."
"Her crib will have a canopy over it," he went on, bulldozing over the emotion in her voice. The talk of what their child would be like had been fun, but the sincerity in his voice was more than she could stand. He absolutely meant what he was saying and, God, it hurt to hear. Because he knew as well as she did that they'd never see their daughter after she'd been born. But he went on, as if that wasn't an issue, and it left her heart in shreds. "The canopy will be pink and white, with frills and bows and all those girly things on it. The crib will be glossy white and it'll be all sleek lines and rounded edges. The headboard and footboard will be painted with pink flowers and little bunnies."
"Warren," she tried again. Her throat was tight and her eyes burned with the need to cry.
"The rest of the furniture will be that same sleek white. A dresser, of course, for all her cute daily clothes. The frilly dresses and shoes will be kept in the closet. A changing table. A bookshelf for toys and baby books. She's going to have a stereo so that she can listen to classical while she sleeps. And a rocking chair where you can sit with her when she's fussy. There will be all kinds of soft toys and she's going to have soft lamps to light her space. A mobile of farm animals that plays a lullaby. Everything her mother's heart desires for her."
"Warren. Please stop," Morgan whispered. Tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped off her chin. When he looked down at her, the seriousness that had been in his voice was in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close.
"I know, Morgan. But we can't give up hope. Miracles happen every day. You just have to believe." His voice was filled with conviction. He believed it. He believed in miracles.
Yes. Miracles existed. And it would take a miracle like she'd never seen before for this whole mess to end anyway other than sadness and tears. Please, God, please. She whispered the words in her head, unwilling to let Warren know how much she wanted and needed for this to happen. Please, God. Please let there be a miracle. Please let me have a miracle.
She deserved a miracle.
Didn't she?
Chapter Seventeen: Possibilities
Fandom: the Marvel universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic violence, language, sex, dark themes, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. Haley belongs to
dazzledfirestar Morgan belongs toginevra Roxxy belongs tonanaeanaven Jehnna belongs to silverfox_chan and Dare belongs to me. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from dazzledfirestar . Author's Notes: this is almost entirely Daz's fault. okay. so it really isn't. its actually almost 100% my fault. Daz just did a whole lot of encouraging. this fic is going to be kind of dark, so please keep that in mind while reading.
Among the Strong - the index
Jehnna watched Sam as he thumbed through the albums on the shelf to find something slow and easy to which they could dance. Dancing had become their favorite way to pass the time since trips to the gym had been cut from their schedules. The excuse had been that such vigorous activity might promote miscarriages. To be honest, Jehnna didn't miss the gym much. She knew Sam did simply because he hated being idle.
She'd been the one to suggest dancing as a way around it. And she'd taught him the dances she knew, just as he'd taught her the ones he knew. Most of the time, they didn't do anything fancy. They usually just swayed to the music while clinging to one another. She was starting to forget what it was like to be around other people. It had been just the two of them in this room for so long now. And they didn't even have the daily trips to the lab to break up the monotony anymore. She supposed it was stupid to make them perform when she was completely and absolutely pregnant.
As if trailing after her thoughts, the baby in her belly kicked at just that moment. It was a faint kick, but it told her the little one was not happy with her inactivity. She'd found that the baby seemed to like it when she and Sam danced. Which suggested to her that their child liked to be as busy as her father.
For a moment, all of it overwhelmed her again. A baby that wasn't Warren's. A baby that she was never going to be able to hold or kiss or rock to sleep when she got fussy. This whole situation was seriously fucked up. It had been from day one. And now, months into their captivity, it was even more seriously fucked up than it had been. Because she was madly in love with Sam Guthrie. And she was having his baby in order for Sinister to give it to Apocalypse. While she was still married to Warren.
She wished, for a moment, that such events had never happened. It was an old wish, one she kept tucked away in her heart. Because she knew, upon going home, it was going to be hard to pick. How did she choose between Warren, her first love, and Sam, who treated her like she was the only woman in the world? How did she make a decision between either one of them? She wasn't sure she was going to be able to do that.
"Jehnna? Sweetheart?" Sam's voice cut across her musings, pulling her away from her thoughts. He looked vaguely concerned so she gave him a bright smile. It was one meant to reassure him. He'd been like this ever since she'd come back from that first prenatal visit with Sinister. His words, not hers. She couldn't recall what happened, so she didn't know if it had or hadn't been a prenatal visit. But the fact that she couldn't remember the visit, combined with the fact that Sam said the goblins had returned her to their room unconscious, meant he was always a little worried when she slipped into her thoughts. "Everything okay?"
"Right as rain, Sam," she replied, putting some cheer into the words. He gave her a skeptical look, but didn't push the issue. That's when she noticed that there was music playing softly in the background. After a moment, her smile softened. She did like Nat King Cole, and 'Unforgettable' was one of his best.
"Shall we dance, then?" he questioned, holding his hands out to her. Jehnna nodded and took hold of them. He pulled her into him and snuggled her close, then started swaying in time with the music. It was a little awkward with the baby bump in the way, but they'd found a way to make it work. Jehnna put her head on his shoulder, a natural inclination that she just couldn't seem to resist. In return, Sam pressed his cheek against her head and pulled her a little closer. His arms closed more tightly around her, bringing a sigh of pure contentment up her throat.
It felt good in his arms. It felt right. Jehnna was sure she should feel guilty about that, but she didn't. Maybe later, when they got home, she'd let guilt eat her alive again like it had in the beginning. For now, she let herself sink into Sam's strong arms and swayed in time with the music that played softly through the record player's speakers.
His hands were big, fingers spread wide across her back as they moved together. She liked the way they felt, the safety they offered. Not that he could do anything if Sinister tried anything. But he still made her feel safe. It was something he'd done from the very beginning. She'd never questioned it, though maybe she should have. Jehnna had gotten the impression, a time or two, that Sam knew more about her than he let on. Almost as if he'd picked things up long before they'd come to this place.
"You know, Jehnna. I wish things could be different." Sam's voice tugged her away from her thoughts. They were still moving, but she found he'd lifted his head and he was now staring at her. She frowned.
"How do you mean?" she asked.
"I wish that we were making plans for the arrival of our baby," he told her softly. Jehnna blinked up at him, slightly amazed by his statement. "We'd be going around to all those trendy baby places, looking for the perfect furniture. I picture you as wanting the traditional crib, all wood with a deep honey burnish to it. A matching dresser and changing table. And a rocking chair, so you'd be able to rock her back to sleep when she wakes up crying in the middle of the night. As well as nurse her when she gets hungry."
"That is a pretty dream," she said with a sigh.
"Not as pretty as you with sleep-mussed hair, sitting in the rocking chair with our daughter nursing at your breast," he responded readily. Both his voice and his eyes held no small amount of hungry need. Jehnna felt her cheeks heat with equal parts embarrassment and desire.
"Don't tell me you're going to be one of those fathers who leaves it all to me," she responded in an attempt to push away some of the growing hunger.
"Of course not. I'd be there with you every step of the way. When you're too tired to sit with her, I'll do it in your stead. She's our daughter. Of course I'm going to help care for her." There was a touch of indignant disbelief in Sam's voice. He stopped swaying so that he could bring his hands up to brush her hair from her face. So that his fingers could trail over her cheeks. "We're in this together, sweetheart. I'm not going to be one of those dads who doesn't help care for or spend time with his kids."
Her heart melted. Just a little bit. Okay. A whole lot. Not that she'd really thought that Sam would avoid being an involved parent. It was different to hear him say it. To know he meant it. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, which prompted him to turn his face more fully toward hers and take her lips in an answering kiss.
It was long and slow and sweet and deep enough that it curled her toes against the cheap rug that covered the floor.
They broke apart gasping for air. She suspected Sam would have kept the kiss going longer if not for their need to breathe. Jehnna's cheeks were on fire with the growing desire and that same sense of embarrassment. Sam's eyes had darkened with hunger and she could feel the way his fingers trembled against the need to grab her and throw her on the bed. Instead, the two of them stood there and stared at each other while the air around them grew heavier with their combined need for one another.
She couldn't say how long it had been since they'd stopped moving and started staring. Apparently, where the baby was concerned, it was far too long. She gave a sharp, pointed kick that actually brought a little bit of pain. Jehnna gasped, one hand moving to cover the spot where that tiny foot had connected. Concern replaced the need on Sam's face immediately, and he was steering her toward the love seat before she could even say a word.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked as he settled her on the cushions. Jehnna offered him a smile to quell his concern.
"Its nothing, Sam. She just kicked harder than she has before and it took me by surprise," Jehnna replied.
His hand went immediately to her belly and settled on it. After a moment or two, the baby kicked again. And Sam's hand moved to where that kick had happened. It became a game of chase, with Sam's hand moving to each new kick location. The baby seemed to be aware it was a game, because her foot kicked on one side, then the other, then at the top before moving to the bottom. Joy, absolute and pure, masked Sam's face as he followed those little kicks around. "She's going to be a speedster," he said quietly. With no small amount of awe in his voice. "Just like her Pa."
His words were like a knife to the heart. Because Jehnna knew what was coming, had mostly come to terms with it. She knew he knew what was coming. And it pained her to know that they'd never get to see their daughter grow up. They'd never know if she was going to be a speedster or not.
The baby seemed to have an opinion on the matter, too. She kicked again, right in the very center of Jehnna's belly. And she kicked hard. Hard enough that they both saw the imprint of her tiny foot in Jehnna's flesh. Hard enough to draw another gasp up Jehnna's throat. Sam's hand moved immediately to the spot where that foot had made contact and settled over it. "Hey, now, baby girl. You best be nice and take it easy on your Ma. Its not nice to kick people."
Sam sounded so serious. He looked so serious. Jehnna couldn't help the tears that came then. Because she only had a few more months of getting to see Sam be a father. And he was so good at it. Her heart was breaking because she wouldn't get to see it again after they returned home.
"Come on, Jehnna. No tears. There's no reason to be sad," Sam said, his thumbs gently wiping the tears away.
"I'm sorry," she replied, letting her eyes lift to his. "I can't help it. You're going to be such a great father. But he's going to take our baby and..."
Jehnna found herself back in his arms. Sam hugged her tightly, one hand stroking the length of her hair with slow motions. "That's no reason to cry, Jehnna. There'll be an opportunity for other babies. I know its hard not to think of what's going to happen when she's born." With those words, one hand was pressed up against her belly again. "But you shouldn't let it be a burden. You should take joy in the life you created. Because you made a miracle. Our baby is a miracle, no matter what happens. And knowing I helped you make her brings me such a sense of peace and happiness."
"But..." The protest came out automatically. The soft smile Sam gave Jehnna brought whatever she might have said to a halt. She didn't miss the faint touch of sadness in his eyes, though, and it prompted her to go on. "What about you, Sam? You can't honestly be okay with everything? It has to hurt knowing that you'll never get to be her father once she's born."
"Of course it hurts, Jehnna. I've always wanted to be a father and have lots of children. And that can still happen. There's no knowing what the future holds for any of us," Sam told her, his voice soft against the music playing in the background. "And Sinister taking our baby to give to Apocalypse doesn't erase the fact that I'm her father. I will always be her father. Nothing will change that. Just like you'll always be her mother."
For a moment, Jehnna was at a loss for words. How was Sam so upbeat and positive about all this? How could he sit there, knowing what kind of future was in store for their child, and find a way to be positive about it? She didn't know if she could do it. She was pretty sure she would live with guilt over it all for the rest of her life. Her other kids might help keep that guilt at a distance. But Sam didn't have that option. And Sam deserved to have that option.
Hell, he deserved to not suffer with guilt. He deserved to be a father to as many children as he could stand. She could see that he'd be a good father. He was, after all, a good human being. It was there in the way he smiled for her. In the way he made sure she wasn't having problems. She'd told him about the difficulties with her last pregnancy and he'd made it his mission to see that this pregnancy ran smoothly. It was there in the way he interacted with her pregnancy. The way he spoke to their child. He would be a good father.
And he deserved to be a father to this baby. Anger and a sense of helplessness wrapped themselves around her. Jehnna hated that his first child would be taken from him before he could even hold her or see her. It wasn't fair to him. She had children she could go home to. Children she could hug and love and touch. Sam would be left with nothing but bittersweet memories. She hated that.
A memory rose up, one that was only a few months old. A memory of the day Sam had confronted her about being pregnant. It was the day she'd admitted to him that she loved him. He'd done the same. It had been his confession that had prompted hers. It had felt awkward and wrong and perfect and right all at the same time.
She supposed, looking back on the past nine months or whatever it had been, that such an event was inevitable. She wondered if it had happened between Warren and Morgan. There was a stab of pain near her heart, but not as strong as she'd expected it to be. She kind of figured she had no room to be mad about the two of them developing feelings for one another. She'd gone and done the same thing with Sam. And maybe that had been part of Sinister's plans all along. Still, she didn't understand how she could love them both. That wasn't something she did. That was something that seemed more like Morgan.
She could remember, when Morgan was a young girl, the way she'd flittered back and forth between the boys at the school. Even some of the teachers. But she'd never stuck with one long enough for it to be anything other than some sex. The only person she'd ever been linked to consistently was Dare. And, to this day, Jehnna wasn't sure what type of relationship the two women had.
All the running around had stopped, though, the moment Remy had taken an interest in Morgan. Jehnna puzzled over that one, too. Because Remy had been going out with Dare and then suddenly Dare was going out with Logan and... Ugh. Thinking about it made her head hurt. She'd never figured out what it was Dare saw in Logan. Truth be told, she didn't think most of the school had ever figured that one out. But she knew that Morgan loved more than one person. Dare, too. Even Roxxy seemed to be capable of loving more than one person. And while she'd never seen Haley in a relationship with more than one man at a time, she had dated plenty of men. So maybe she was capable of loving more than one person, too.
Was there something wrong with Jehnna that loving both Sam and Warren felt like it was tearing her apart? Or was there something wrong with the others that the didn't seem to be able to love just one person? She didn't understand what was going on or why it seemed to be such a difficult thing for her.
"Jehnna?" Sam's voice once again cut into her thoughts, pulling her out of her head and back to reality. The smile she offered him must have looked troubled, because he slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. "Whatever has you frowning like that, sweetheart, must be real serious. Care to lighten the load and share?"
For a moment, she wondered if she should tell Sam about her doubts. She didn't want him to look at her like she was nuts. But she didn't know how to deal with this on her own. Hell, she didn't know if she could deal with this on her own. Maybe Sam would have insight that would help. At this stage in things, it sure as hell couldn't hurt. "If you don't mind?" She looked at him with the question echoing in her eyes.
"Of course not, sweetheart. If I can do anything at all to put a smile back on your face, I'll consider it a privilege." He reached up to stroke her cheek with his fingers. "Now spill it."
Jehnna took a deep breath and collected her thoughts, then she nodded and started talking.
~*~
Jesus Christ. How could every muscle in her body hurt? There were parts of her that hurt that she hadn't even known existed before now. And this coming from someone who had trained with Remy, Logan, and Dare more than once. She'd never gotten muscle cramps before. Not once in each of her pregnancies had she had cramps. And, if she had, they'd been so minute as to be forgettable. Nothing like this.
Fortunately for her, Warren's fingers were there to work at the tenseness in her left calf. She hissed out a breath when he dug into a particularly painful spot. "Sorry, Morgan," he said in response to her obvious discomfort.
"You should be," she snapped back, though there was little heat in her words. She was just tired of being achy all the damn time. The cramps and various pains had started some time in the second trimester. Not long after her visit to Sinister's lab, in fact. A visit that she couldn't remember. She didn't like that she couldn't recall anything. And she knew Warren didn't like it much, either. Not that he'd said anything to that effect. But she could tell anyway. She'd seen it in his eyes a time or two in the days following that visit. In the tension in his shoulders when the door opened.
The moment the first pain had made an appearance, Warren had been there to soothe it away. After so many days of it, she felt like she'd gotten addicted to the nimbleness in his fingers and the way he somehow always managed to work the knots out and ease the pain until it was either gone or tolerable. Somewhere along the line, she'd come to the conclusion that Warren's hands were a heavenly blessing because they were so capable of easing all her pain. But they were also a hellish curse, because she was addicted to them. To the way he massaged her aches away. To the way he used them to bring pleasure. They were good hands. And she was utterly addicted to them.
What happened when they went home? She was fairly certain that Remy wouldn't judge. He was going through this same thing with Dare, wasn't he? For a moment, she considered that. Would things change within the foursome? She was pretty sure that Dare would blame herself and wouldn't be able to look Morgan in the eyes. That was how Dare had been ever since the Professor had brought her to the school. Morgan would have to find a way to make her understand that she didn't hate her. She didn't think Logan would judge anymore than Remy would. He hadn't judged with Creed. Surely he wouldn't judge this time?
But what about Jehnna? Was she going to understand that this was a situation beyond everyone's control? Was she going to hate Morgan for having a baby with Warren? Was she going to have problems with Warren for having sex with someone other than her? Morgan considered the whole mess. She didn't understand why Sinister had paired them off the way he had. The freak obviously thought she was better paired with Warren. The notion meant there was a small part of her that was hurt because Sinister seemed to think that she wasn't good enough for Remy. It weighed on her for a moment or two. Then she nudged it aside as unimportant. What was important was that Remy thought she was good enough for him. He loved her and that was all that mattered.
Her thoughts were put on hold when Warren's fingers found a knot on the bottom of her foot simply by pressing into it. Morgan groaned, some odd mix of pleasure and pain, and tried to pull her foot out of his hold. He refused to let it go and continued working his thumbs against the knot. The more he worked, the less fight she was capable of giving. Eventually, she was limp against the bed while he started his way back up her calf. The smile he gave her when she looked up at him was enough to make her want to hit him. The comment that followed only reinforced the desire. "You're so easy, Morgan."
"Considering I've had muscle cramps for months, I don't think its that hard for anyone to figure it out. Even you," she snapped, though there was only a small amount of heat behind her words. And the possible effect of that heat was killed when his fingers did a thing that drew a very obscene moan up her throat. Morgan shot him a glare. "I'm pretty sure I didn't have muscle cramps during my other pregnancies, but its possible I did and I just never knew. I honestly don't remember dealing with pain this bad before. Its got to be your fault."
Her words saw Warren chuckling softly. He raised her leg so that he could press a tender kiss against the swell of her calf. "Right," he said with a cheeky grin. "There's no way LeBeau would do that to you. It has to be those pesky Worthington genes."
Morgan couldn't hold back the smile that came at that. She still managed to level some kind of moderately dark look his way. "Mhmm. Clearly Jehnna's a saint for doing this four times with you. The pope needs to canonize her. Saint Jehnna. She'd be the saint pregnant women pray to for relief from muscle cramps and cheeky partners."
Her comment made him laugh out loud. And then she let go a grunt that saw him giving her a worried look. Morgan shook her head and smiled at him, then took hold of his hand and settled it on her belly. Just in time for the baby to kick at her again. Warren turned wide eyes her way even though he'd felt the baby kick time and again. Each time it happened, he acted like it was the most miraculous event ever. No lie, she honestly found it cute each and every time he did it.
"She's really active today," Warren commented. Morgan only hummed in agreement, too caught up in watching his hand chase those tiny feet around. His gaze found hers, the wonder in it making her breath catch in her throat. He'd turned that look on her a time or two since the pregnancy had started and she found it endearing every time he did so. She loved how he seemed to startled by the process, despite having gone through it four previous times with Jehnna. It was such an odd dichotomy. Warren Worthington was intelligent, handsome, capable, and smooth. And he was positively childlike in his wonder where their baby was concerned. She loved that about him.
Hell, she just straight up loved him.
It would be a lie to say she hadn't thought about what he'd be like as a father to their child. And it would be a lie to say that she hadn't felt a pang of regret when ever she had that thought. Because she wanted so much to see that face again and again. When their baby was born, When he held her for the first time. When she started walking and the first time she called him Dada. Warren would wear that look so many times with all of their baby's firsts. Except she was destined to go to Apocalypse and become a horseman.
"No melancholy thoughts," Warren said gently. His free hand reached up to cup her cheek. That touch anchored her and brought her back to the here and now. She looked at him to find he was watching her closely, his eyes dark with concern and maybe even a little fear.
"Sorry. I was just saddened that I won't get to see that face again once we leave here," she told him. She'd long ago stopped trying to shift his attention away from the obvious, from the things she didn't want to think or talk about.
"What face?" he asked. His hands slid away so that he could move around to sit at her side on the bed. Morgan took the opportunity to stretch her legs, marveling at how capable he was at relieving the pain. She put a hand on his cheek and let her palm memorize the feel of his skin against hers. Just in case...
"The one that's filled with the same kind of wonder a child gets when they discover something new. Every time you put your hands on my belly and feel the baby kick, you get that same look on your face. And once she's born, that won't happen anymore. Sinister will take her and you'll never have that look on your face again."
"And you're so certain of that?" he asked, his tone suggesting she was wrong.
"Pretty certain, yeah. I can't imagine that we'll stay together when we return home. You've got Jehnna and your kids. I've got Remy and my kids."
"And Dare. And Logan," Warren pointed out. Morgan frowned at that
"Well, yeah. They're my family," she told him. He should know that already. Dare had been family longer than any of them and she knew that the other woman was going to need help getting past this newest mind fuck.
"We're a family now, Morgan," Warren told her. She stared up at him, confused as to why he'd say that. He chuckled at that look before leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. His hand returned to her belly and rubbed a gentle circle there. The baby kicked again, obviously encouraged by his touch. "There's a bond between us now, you know. One that makes us family. That doesn't change just because Sinister plans to take her away. You and I are as much family as you and Dare. There are real emotions involved. Going back doesn't mean things go back to the way they were. We're all going to have to sort things out between us. Come to some kind of new normal."
"So, what? You're suggesting we have a baby when we go home?" She let her skepticism show in her voice. It was probably on her face, too.
"No," he said, then paused. His breath came out on a hard sigh. "Maybe. I don't know. I don't know what the answer is, Morgan. What I do know is we fell in love here. We've shared something terribly intimate. Sinister can't take that from us. Neither one of us knows what will happen when we go home. We'll face that problem when we get there. For now, though, we have this. Our family."
He leaned down to press a kiss to her belly, bringing tears to her eyes. How could she love him so much? Especially when she still loved Remy. And Logan. And Dare. God, Dare was like life's blood at this point. She'd told Remy once that no man could get between her and Dare. She'd been wrong, to some degree. He'd found a way into her heart. So had Logan. And now Warren. But she'd been right, too. Because Dare was her first love. Not the marriage and kids kind of way. She was a love that went past all that. And nothing, no one person, would ever come between them.
But that didn't stop her from loving the others. And it didn't stop her from wondering, even though she knew it meant nothing but heartache, what having Warren in her life all the time would be like. What having his child would be like. "She's going to be as pretty as her mother," Warren said gently. Again, his voice brought her out of her thoughts so that she could give her attention to him. "She's going to be strong and capable. Just like her mother."
Those words saw tears falling. Because she knew they were the absolute truth. And the worst kind of lie. "She's going to have your wild sense of spirit. And she's going to be a headache for both of us," Warren told her.
"She'll have your intelligence," Morgan replied. She shouldn't play this game with him. This game was dangerous and would only lead to heartache. But she couldn't stop herself. She'd imagined a life for the three of them so many times in the past months. "And your smile."
"Just my smile?" he teased. She couldn't help the laugh that came. There was such a look of indignant disbelief on his face.
"Of course not. She'll be a smooth talker, just like you," Morgan added.
Warren's smile grew. "She'll wear those silly, frilly dresses that women seem to love putting on their baby girls. The kind with tights that have more frills on the butt. And a pair of black patent shoes she'll be able to wear for one picture session. Because her mother loves shoes. And we'll even put a little bow in her hair. One that matches her dress."
"What if she doesn't have any hair?" Morgan asked him. God help her, she could picture their daughter, so small and tiny in his arms, wearing a baby pink dress with tons of frills under the skirt.
"Doesn't matter. We'll still put a bow on her head. So everyone knows she's a sweet little girl," he told her before leaning in to steal a kiss from her. That kiss went right to her head, as if Warren was made from the finest wine. His hand rubbed her belly again. "She'll have so many dresses and shoes, she'll give you a run for your money."
"I'm not sure if that's possible," Morgan said, a faint laugh coloring her words. She knew well just how full her closet was. Remy had complained about the number of dresses and pairs of shoes that lived within it.
"Of course its possible. I'm Warren Worthington. I have more money than God." There was a touch of amusement in his words. "The money makes up for my pesky genes."
"Sir, your face and your body make up for your pesky genes," she said, letting one hand slide down his arm in order to map out the muscles there.
"That's so sweet of you to say," he returned, his lips curling up into a satisfied smile.
Morgan gave him a look. "The money is just an added bonus."
"Why you!" Warren got out before his fingers were moving over her sides with all the precision of a drunken fly. The feather-light touches brought laughter to her lips, saw her trying to scoot away from him. But Warren moved so that he had her caged with his arms and his legs. She had nowhere to go even before he locked her thighs between his knees so that his hands were free to tickle at will. Morgan squirmed in an effort to get away from him, but his legs kept her from going far. "Just for that, I won't tell you about the baby furniture we'll get her."
"Warren!" Morgan got out before wheezing laughter rolled out of her throat. His hands felt like they were everywhere and she couldn't get air into her lungs because she was laughing so hard. She tried to grab his wrists, but he was too quick for her. So she went with the next best thing. "Stop before I wet the bed!"
That got his attention and the tickling stopped immediately. It took her several minutes before her breathing leveled out. In that time, Warren had shifted so that he was once more sitting beside her. When Morgan made the effort to sit up, his hands were there to help her into a sitting position. He looked contrite. "I'm sorry. I forgot."
"Just for that, you'll be buying her the most expensive set of baby furniture I can find," Morgan told him.
"Its no less than I deserve," he agreed. Warren slipped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. She snuggled into the warmth of his body and rested her head against his chest. His lips pressed a kiss to the top of her head before he went on. "Our little princess deserves the very best."
The absolute seriousness in his voice brought a lump to her throat. "Warren..."
"Her crib will have a canopy over it," he went on, bulldozing over the emotion in her voice. The talk of what their child would be like had been fun, but the sincerity in his voice was more than she could stand. He absolutely meant what he was saying and, God, it hurt to hear. Because he knew as well as she did that they'd never see their daughter after she'd been born. But he went on, as if that wasn't an issue, and it left her heart in shreds. "The canopy will be pink and white, with frills and bows and all those girly things on it. The crib will be glossy white and it'll be all sleek lines and rounded edges. The headboard and footboard will be painted with pink flowers and little bunnies."
"Warren," she tried again. Her throat was tight and her eyes burned with the need to cry.
"The rest of the furniture will be that same sleek white. A dresser, of course, for all her cute daily clothes. The frilly dresses and shoes will be kept in the closet. A changing table. A bookshelf for toys and baby books. She's going to have a stereo so that she can listen to classical while she sleeps. And a rocking chair where you can sit with her when she's fussy. There will be all kinds of soft toys and she's going to have soft lamps to light her space. A mobile of farm animals that plays a lullaby. Everything her mother's heart desires for her."
"Warren. Please stop," Morgan whispered. Tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped off her chin. When he looked down at her, the seriousness that had been in his voice was in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close.
"I know, Morgan. But we can't give up hope. Miracles happen every day. You just have to believe." His voice was filled with conviction. He believed it. He believed in miracles.
Yes. Miracles existed. And it would take a miracle like she'd never seen before for this whole mess to end anyway other than sadness and tears. Please, God, please. She whispered the words in her head, unwilling to let Warren know how much she wanted and needed for this to happen. Please, God. Please let there be a miracle. Please let me have a miracle.
She deserved a miracle.
Didn't she?
